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 —

THE LIFE ^^^^

V-<£-

JESUS THE CHRIST

HENRY WARD BEECHER

"But when the fuluess of the time was come, God seut forth his Son,
made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under
the law." Gal. iv., 4, 5.

VOI-. I.

EARLIER SCENES

COMPLETED EDITION

NEW Y(>J?Jv:.':

BROM FIELD A l^.i' 'fcO MPANY

LONDON : nic'^rtrms Dickinson

[All rifjhls reserwd.}

 THE NEW YORK
PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR, LENOX AND

TILDEN FOUNDATIONS
R 1915 t
am

Coiiyright {as to the Completed Edition), 1891,

BY lillOMFIELD AND COMPANY.

[All rights 7-eserved.]

The Mackenzie Fbebs:

Walbridus & Co.,
17-27 VANDEWATtn Stheet, N. Y,
 PREFACE.

I HAVE undertaken to write a Life of Jesus, the

Christ, in the hope of inspiring a deeper interest in

the noble Personage of whom those matchless his-

tories, the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and

John, are the chief authentic memorials. I have en-
deavored to present scenes that occurred two thousand
years ago as they would appear to modern eyes if

the events had taken place in our day.

The Lives of Christ which have appeared of late
years have naturally partaken largely of the dialectic
and critical spirit. They have either attacked or de-
fended. The Gospel, like a city of four gates, has
been taken and retaken by alternate parties, or held

in part by opposing hosts, while on every side the

marks of siege and defence cover the ground. This
may be unfortunate, but it is necessio-yy .As long as

great learning and acut,(3i<ritijtigjii are brought to assail

the text of the Gospels, the-i-K hist<)j:ic autl\enticity, tlie

truth of their contents, and th^ qtjiitial atttiue ol' tlieir

teachings, so long must greut; [oarning and soimd ))bi-

losophy be brought to the defence of those precious

documents.
 ;

iv PREFACE.

But such controversial LiA^es of Christ are not the

best for general reading. While they may lead
scholars from doubt to certainty, they are likely to

lead plain people from certainty into doubt, and to

leave them there. I have therefore studiously avoid-
ed a polemic spirit, seeking to produce conviction
without controversy.
Joubert ^ finely says :
" State truths of sentiment,

and do not try to prove them. There is danger in

such proofs ; for in arguing it is necessary to treat

that which is in question as something problematic
now that which we accustom ourselves to treat as
problematic ends by appearing to us as really doubtr
ful. In things that are visible and palpable, never
prove what is believed already ; in things that are

certain and mysterious, — mysterious by great- their

ness and by their nature, — make people believe them,

and do not prove them ; in things that are matters of

practice and duty, command, and do not explain.

*
Fear God ' has made many men pious ; the proofs of
the existence of God have made many men atheists.

From the defiance springs the attack; the advocate

begets in hi^.'-hcare}' a wish to pick holes; and men
are almost always led loir' foin' a desire to contradict
the doctor t^o'-iiKfi /^fsirr^.-.'to 'contradict the doctrine.

Make Trutlv'16y^fy;vincl. do not try to arm her."

The history of the- i-^^^.t, the authenticity of the

' As fiuoted by Matthew Arnold, Essays in Criticism, p. 234 (London

fed.), 1865.
 PREFACE. V

several narratives, the many philosophical questions

that must arise in such a field, I have not formally dis-

cussed ; still less have I paused to dispute and answer

the thousands of objections which swarm around the
narrative in the books of the sceptical school of criti-

cism. Such a labor, while very important, would con-

stitute a work quite distinct from that which I have
proposed, and would infuse into the discussion a con-
troversial element which I have especially sought to

avoid, as inconsistent with the moral ends which I had

in view.

I have however attentively considered whatever

has been said, on every side, in the works of critical
objectors, and have endeavored as far as possible so

to state the facts as to take away the grounds from

which the objections were aimed.
Writing in full sympathy with the Gospels as au-

thentic historical documents, and with the nature and

teachings of the great Personage whom they describe,
it is scarcely necessary to say that I have not attempt-
ed to show the world what Matthew and John ougJd
to have heard and to have seen, but did not ; nor
what things they did not see or hear, but in their
simplicity believed that they did. In short, I have
not invented a Life of Jesus to suit the critical phi-

losophy of the nineteenth century.

The Jesus of the lour Evanj^elists for wellniirh two
thousand years has exerted a powerful infkience upon
the heart, the understanding, and the imagination of
vi PREFACE.

inankind. It is that Jesus, and not a modern substitute,

whom I have sought to depict, in his life, his social le-

lations, his disposition, his deeds and doctrines.

This work has been delayed far beyond the expec-
tation of the publishers, without fault of theirs, but
simply because, with the other duties incumbent upon
me, I could not make haste faster than I have. Even
after so long a delay the first Part only is ready to
go forth ; and for the second I am obliged to solicit

the patience of my readers. But I aim to complete

it within the year.
The order of time in the four Evangelists has

always been a perplexity to harmonists, and it seems

likely never to be less. But this is more especially

characteristic of details whose value is little affected

by the question of chronological order, than of the

great facts of the life of Jesus.

I have followed, though not without variations, the

order given by Ellicott,^ and especially Andrews.-

But a recent " Gospel History Consolidated," pub-
lished in London by Bagster,^ so generally accords

with these that I have made it the working basis;

and, instead of cumbering the margin with references

to the passages under treatment, have preferred to
reproduce at the end of this volume a corresponding
portion of the text of the " Gospels Consolidated," by

*
of Onr Lord Jesus Christ. C. J. Ellicott.
JJistorical Lectures on the Life

of Our Lord vpon Earth. Samuel J. Andrews.

Tlie Life
» Imported and sold in the United States by John Vi''iley and Son, New
York.
 PREFACE. vii

a reference to which, chapter by chapter, those who

wish to do so will find the groundwork on which this

Life is founded.
Although the general arrangement of the " Gos-
pels Consolidated " has been followed/ it will be seen
that I have frequently deviated from it in minor matr
ters. For example, believing that the reports of the
Sermon on the Mount, as given in Matthew and in
Luke, are but two separate accounts of the one dis-

course, I have not treated Luke's account as the rec-

ord of a second delivery of the same matter, as is

(sometimes done. The two narrations of the discourse

and uproar at Nazareth I have regarded as referring
to but a single transaction, while the " Gospels Con-
solidated" treats them as separate events. But such
differences in mere arrangement are inevitable, and
not important. No two harmonists ever did agree in
all particulars, and it is scarcely possible that any two
ever will. The very structure of the Gospels makes
it wellnigh impossible. They are not like the " dis-
sected maps," or pictures, whose severed parts can,
with some patience, be fitted together into the origi-
nal whole, a hundred times exactly alike. They are
little more, often, than copious indexes of a volumi-
nous life, without dates or order. It is not probable

* I would not he understood as recommending the " Gospels Consoli-

dated" as a substitute for the four Gospels, but as an auxiliary. The

fulness with which transactions are there made to stand out will lii-lp the
common reader to attain conceptions to which scholars come by a laborious
intercomparison of the four narratives.
viii PREFACE.

tliat a single note was taken, or a line written, in

Christ's lifetime. The Gospels are children of the

memory. They were vocally delivered hundreds of

times before being written out at all ; and they bear
the marks of such origin, in the intensity and vivid-
ness of individual incidents, while chronological order
and literary unity are but little regarded. In the
arrangement of particulars, therefore, when no clew
to the real order of time could be found, I have felt at

liberty to select such order as would best help the

general impression.
That this work may carry to its readers the rich-

est blessing which I can imagine, a sympathetic in-

sight into the heart of its great subject, Jesus Christ,

the Redeemer of the world, and a vital union with

him, is my earnest wish and devout prayer.

HENRY WARD BEECHER.

Brooklyn, N. Y,, August, 1871.
 oonte:nts of paet i.

CHAPTEE I,

Introductory .1
Pace

CHAPTER II.

The Overture of Angels 11

CHAPTER III.
The Doctrinal Basis 44

CHAPTER IV.
CniLDIIOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NaZARETH .... 54

CHAPTER V.
The Voice in the Wilderness ...... 82

CHAPTER VI.
The Temptation 114

CHAPTER VII.
Jesus, nis Personal Appearance 134

CHAPTER VIII.
The Outlook 156

CHAPTER IX.
The HousRHOLi) Gate .... .181
 CHAPTEK X.
TlIK FlUST JUDiKAN MiNISTKY ...,,, 200

CHAPTER XI.
The Lesson at Jacob's Well 229

CHAPTER XII.
Earlt Labors in (Jalilee 253

CHAPTER XIII.
A Ti.ME OP Joy 280

CHAPTER XIV.
The Sermon on the Mount. — The Beatitudes . , . 305

CHAPTER XV.
The Sermon on the Mount {aj/itmued) .... 331

CHAPTER XVI.
The Beginninc; of Conflict ...... 3G4

CHAPTER XVII.
Around the Sea of Galilee 399

APPENDIX ...... e „. 433

INDKX ^ .... 441

 INDEX TO ILLUSTRATIONS.

Vol.. T.

Head of Christ, aftkii Lkonahuo da A''ixcr .... Fro/Uispiece

(Stkkl Engraving.)

Templk of IfKRoi), FJioM Olivet Opposite pa f/(i \

See Appenaix, Vol. II. p. 319.

The Overtijkk of Angels 11

Sec .\ppcmli.\'. Vol. II. p. ;>00.

KkIIII.KIIKM, .NKAIl TlIK CoNVENT 29

Sec .\ppcn(lix, Vol. II. p. odfi.

Na/.akkth 'il

.'>i:e .ippciiilix. Vol. II. p. .'50.5.

TlIK AV'ii.uKRNKss, Ea.st (jp Olivet 83

Sec Appendix, Vol. 11. p. 310.

Swamp ok Pai-vkis IIef.ds 06

Sc(; Ap|)en(lix, Vol. II. p. 3G0.

TOKI) OX TlIK JoiiDAN lit

See Appendix, Vol. II. p. 314.

PoRTRAn>< 111- ('m;i^i' 1"H

See Appendix, Vol. II. p. 311.

Site of ('Ai-KitN^iM 1"^!

See Appi'lidix, Vol. 11. p :;.':.'.

(yllKl.ST ('l.KAKINC; TlIK TkMI'I.K ... . ,

201)

.See Appendix, Vol. II. p. 3J0.

Plan- of tiik TKMri.K 204

See Appendix, Vol. II. p. 3I'J.

Jacob's Wkm 229

.^ei' .Vppeiidiv, Vol II p. 3il.
Ml L\/'/:.\' JO iij.i sinATiuys and maps.

'r.VliKi.V UN TIIK LaKK 300

See Appendix, Vol. II. p. :i;3s.

Karun IIattin 305

Sec Apiicmli.v, Vul. II. p. 3::(i.

Lakk of Gknnesaheth 416

Sec Appeu(li.\, Vol. II. p. 3UJ.

MAPS.
PaLKSTINE IX THE Tl.ME OF Ouii Savjoih 160

VicixTTY OF Ska of Galilee 315

 CHAPTER
INTRODUCTORY.

How well the Hebrew Priest, but especially

Prophet, had done his work, may best be seen in that
moral element which made Judaism to religion what
the Greek spirit had been to the intellectual life of
the world. Nowhere out of Judasa were to be found
such passionate moral fervor and such intense spiritual
yearnings. But this spirit had spent itself as a for-

mative power had already overshot the multitude,

; it

while higher natures were goaded by it to excess.

There was need of a new religious education. This
was the desire and expectation of the best men of
the Jewish Church. How their spiritual quickening
was to come, they knew not. That it was coming
was generally believed, and also that the approach-
ing deliverance would in some mysterious way bring
God nearer to men. "Of the day and of the hour"
knew no man. The day had come when a new mani-
festation of (Jod was to be made. A God of hoHness,
a God of power, and a God of mercy had been clearly
revealed. The Divine Spirit was now to be clothed
with tiesli, subjected to the ordinary laws of matter,
placed in those conditions in which men live, liecome
the subject of care, weariness, sorrow, and of deatl>
itself
2 THE lAFK OF .IKSIJS, THE CHRIST.

The history of this divine incarnation we are now

knowledge wliich lias
to trace, in so far as the rehgious
sprung from it can be carried back to its sources, and
be made to illustrate the sublime truths and events
of the Lord's earthly mission.
Since there are four inspired lives of our Lord, — two
of them l^y the hands of disciples who were eye-wit-
by Mat-
nesses of the events recorded, namely, those
thew and John, and two, those of Mark and Luke, by
men who, though not disciples, were yet the com-
panions of the Apostles, and derived their materials, in

part, from them, — why should it be necessary to frame

other histories of Jesus, the Christ? Since the mate-
rials for any new life of Christ must be derived from
the four Evangelists, is it likely that uninspired men,
after a lapse of nearly nineteen hundred years, can
do better than ihei/ did who were either witnesses or
contemporaries of the Lord, and who were appointed
and guided by the Divine Spirit to make a record of

truth for all time ?

The impression produced by such suggestions will be

materially modified upon a close examination of the
Gospels.
1. The very fact that there are four lives, wliich
strikes one as a fourfold blessing, and which surely
is an advantage, carries with it also certain disadvnn-

tages. For a clear view of the life and teachings

of our Lord, four fields are to be reaped instead of
one.
The early ages needed testimony; our age needs
teaching. Four witnesses are better for testimony.
But for biography one complete narrative, combining
in it the materials of the four, would have given a pic-
 INTRODUCTORY. 3

ture of our Lord more in accordance with the habits

and wants of men in our day.
This diversit}^ of witnesses subserves other important
ends. No single man could have represented all sides
of the Saviour's teaching. A comparison of Matthew's
Gospel with that of John will show how much would
have been lost, had there been only a single collector
and rejDorter of Christ's discourses.
It is not easy, even for one trained to investigation,
to gather out of the four Evangelists a clear and con-
sistent narrative of our Lord's ministry ; and still less

will unstudious men succeed in doing it.

No one will deu}^ that every Christian man should

seek a comprehensive, and not a fragmentary, knowl-
edge of his Lord. In other words, every Christian
reader seeks, for himself, out of the other four, to
weave a fifth life of Christ. Why should not this in-

dispensable work be performed for men, with all the

aids of elaborate investigation?
2. The impression derived from this general view is
greatly strengthened by a critical examination of the
contents of the Gospels.
It is one of the striking facts in history, that One
whose teachings were to revolutionize human ideas,
and to create a new era in the world's affairs, did not
commit a single syllable to paper, and did not organize
a single institution. An unlimited power of acting
upon the world witliout these subsidiary and. to men,
indispensable instruments, — viz. writing and organiza-
tion, — and only by the enunciation of a])sohite truths
in their rehition to human conduct, is one of the marks
of Divinity.
There is no i'vi(k'n('e tliat Jesus appointed any of lii-
4 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

disciples toperform the work of an historian. None

of them claim such authorization. Only Luke ^ makes
any reference to the motives which led him to under-
take the task of writing, and he claims no other than
a personal desire to record a knowledge which he
deemed fuller than that of others.
The four Gospels are evidently final and authorita-
tive collections of oral histories and com23ilations of
narratives which were already circulating among the
early Christians. In the cases of Matthew and John,
these materials were wrought upon the fabric of their
own personal observation and experience.
There is in none of them any consistent regard to
the order of time or of place. The principle of arrange-
ment evidently is to be foimd in the moral similari-
ties of the materials, and not in their chronological se-

quences. Different events are clustered together which

were widely separated. Whole chapters of parables
are given as if they had been delivered in a single
discourse. We should never have known from Mat-
thew, Mark, or Luke, that our Lord was accustomed
to go up to Jerusalem to the great Jewish feasts but ;

we do get it from John, who is mainly concerned with

the history and discourses of his Master in Judcea.
Matthew, on the other hand, bestows his attention
upon that part of the Saviour's life which was spent
in Galilee. Moreover, he seldom enters, as John does,

' Luke i. 1-4. "Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to set forth
which arc most surely believed among
in order a dechiration of those thinn;s
us, even as they delivered them unto us, which from the l)c<j;inning were eye-

witnesses, and ministers of the word it seemed good to me also, having had
;

perfect understanding of all things from the veryfirst, to write unto thee in

order, most excellent Tlieophilus that thou mightest know the certainty of
those things wherein thou hast been instructed."
 INTROD UCTOR Y. 5

upon interior and profoundly spiritual experiences.

John almost as little notices the merely external facts
and events of the Lord's life, which Matthew habitually
regards.^
In their structure the Evangelical narratives have
been well compared to Xenophon's Memorabilia of
Socrates. They are clusters of events, parables, mir-
acles, discourses, inwhich the order of time is some-
times obscure, and sometimes wholly inverted.
In every age of the Church it has been deemed wise
to attempt to form a harmony of the four Gospels.
Since the year A. D. 1500, there have been more than
Jifll/ harmonies made by most eminent Christian schol-

ars. Of Lives of Christ and Harmonies there have

been more than one hundred and fifty.
But for some such help, the difficulties arising from a
comparison of the difterent narratives would be insolu-
ble. Many obstacles are thus removed, many apparent
contradictions are congruously explained, many appar-
ent inconsistencies are harmonized ; and it is shown
that, of the inexplicable facts remaining, none are im-
portant, — certainly not as respects the great truths or
the essential events of the narrative.
3. It is probable that no equal amount of truth was
ever expressed in a mode so well fitted for uui\ersal
circulation. And yet, as the Gospels were written by

' "The first tlirce Evangelists describe especially those tliiniis wliicli Christ
did in our and relate the precepts which He delivered uii tlie (hities
licsh,

to be peH'oruied by us. while we walk on earth and dwell in the tlesh. But
St. John soars to lienven, as an eagle, al)ove the clouds of human inlinnity,

and reveals to us the mysteries of Christ's Godhead, and of the Trinity in

Unity, and tlic felicities of Life Eternal, and gazes on the Light of Immuta-
ble Truth with a keen and steady ken." —
St. Atir/ustlne, tranalnted by Dr.

Wordsworth. Introduction tn Conunentaries on the New Testament.

6 THE LIFE OF JESUS, TUB CHRIST.

Jews, and with primary reference to certain wants of

the age in which the writers lived, they are full of
alhisions, references, customs, and beliefs, which have
long since passed away or have become greatly modi-
fied. There are also in the New Testament allusions
to customs of which there is no knowledge whatever
preserved.
But far more important is it to observe the habits of
thought, the whole mental attitude of the Apostolic
age, and the change which has since come upon the
world. Truths remain the same ; but every age has its

own style of thought. Although this difference is not

so great as is the difference between one language and
another, it is yet so great as to require restatement or,

as it were, translation. The truth which Paul argues to

the Romans is as important for us as it was for them.
But we are not Jews.^ We care nothing for circum-
cision. The Hebrew law has never entangled us. We
have our prejudices and obstinacies, but they are
not the same as those which the Apostle combated.
The truth of the Epistle to the Romans, when sepa-
rated from the stalk and ear on which it grew, is of
universal nutriment. But in Paul's own day the stem
and the husk also were green and succulent they ;

were living and indisj^ensable parts of his statement

of the truth. Far less is tliis distinction applicable to
the Gospels, and 3^et it is, in a measure, true of them.
Our age has developed wants no deeper, perhaps,
nor more important, than those in the Apostolic age,

* Jews were dispersed throiigh all the civilized world, and in general,
both in Greek and Roman cities, there were synajrojiues, in which the Old
Testament Scriptures were read, and in which the Apostles made known to
their own countrymen the fulfilment of those Scriptures in the history of
our Lord. See Acts 28 : 16-24.
 !

INTRODUCTORY. 7

but needs essentially different. We live for different

ends. We have other aspirations. We are plagued
with new infidelities of our own. We are proud in a
different way, and vain after our own manner. To meet
all these ever-changing necessities of the human heart
and of society, men are ordained to preach the gospel.
If merely reading the text as it was originally delivered
were enough, why should there be preachers ? It is
the business of preachers to re-adapt truth, from age
to age, to men's ever-renewing wants.
And what is this, but doing by single passages of
Scripture what a Life of Christ attempts to do system-
atically, and in some dramatic form, for the whole?
Some have said, almost contemptuously, "The only
good Lives of Christ are those by the four Evangelists."
And yet these very men are so little content with these
same Evangelists, that they spend their lives in restat-
ing, illustrating, and newly applying the substance and
matter of the Evangelical writings, thus by their —
own most sensible example refuting their own most
foolish criticism
But there are reasons yet deeper why the Life
4.

of Christ should be rewritten for each and every age.

The life of the Christian Church has, in one point
of view, been a gradual unfolding and interpretation of
the spiritual truths of the Gospels. The knowledge
of the human heart, of its yearnings, its failiu-es, its sins

and sorrows, has immensely increased in the progress

of centuries.
Has nothing been learned by the Christian world of
the methods of moral government, of the counnunion
of the Holy Ghost, of the power of the Divine Spirit to
cleanse, enrich, and fire the soul, after so many centu-
 —
8 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

lies of experience ? Has

world no lore of love, no
this
stores of faith,no experience of joy unfolded from the
original germs, which shall fit it to go back to the truths
of the New Testament with a far larger understanding
of their contents than they had who wrote them ? Proph-
ets do not always understand their own visions Apos- ;

tles deliver truths which are fiir deeper, and more

glorious in their ulterior forms, than even their utterers

suspect.
It is both a privilege and a duty of the Church of
Christ to gather up, from time to time, these Hving
commentaries upon divine truth, — these divine inter-
j^retations, by means of human experience, of the truth
asit is in Jesus, —
and carry back this hght and knowl-
edge to the primal forms and symbols. Our Lord him-
self declared that hiskingdom of truth was as a seed.
But what shall interpret a seed like its own growth
and harvest? To us the narratives of the Gospel ought
to mean far more than to the primitive disciple, or they
have been germs without development, seed without a
harvest.
All critics of the Gospels, though, in each group,
differing by many shades among themselves, may be
reduced to two classes :
—
Those who believe that the writings of the Evan-
1.

gelistsare authentic historical documents, that they

were divinely inspired, and that the supernatural ele-
ments contained in them are real, and to be credited as
much any other parts of the history; and,
as
2. Those who deny the inspiration of the Gospels,

regarding them as unassisted human productions, filled

with mistakes and inaccuracies; especially, as filled
with superstitions and pretended miracles.
 INTRODUCTORY. ^

These latter critics set aside all traces of the super-

natural. They feel at liberty to reject all miracles,
either summarily, with "philosophic" contempt, or by
explanations as wonderful as the miracles are marvel-
lous. In effect, they act as if there could be no evi-
dence except that which addresses itself to the ma-
terial senses. Such reasoning chains philosophy to
matter: to which statement many already do not ob-
ject, but boldly claim that, in our present condition,
no truth can be known to men except that which con-
forms itself to physical laws. There is a step further,
and one that must soon be taken, if these reasons are
logically consistentnamely, to hold that there is no
;

evidence of a God, unless Nature be that God. And

this is Pantheism, which, being interpreted, is Atheism.
We scarcely need to sa}^, that we shall take our stand
with those who New
Testament as a collec-
accept the
tion of veritable historical documents, with the record
of miracles, and with the train of spiritual phenomena,
as of absolute and literal truth. The miraculous ele-
ment constitutes the very nerve-system of the Gospel.
To withdraw it from credence is to leave the Gospel
liistories a mere shapeless mass of pulp.
What is left when these venerable records are
stripped of the ministry of angels, of the mystery of the
divine incarnation, of the wonders and miracles which
accompanied our Lord at every step of his career?
Christ's miracles were not occasional and occult, but in
a long series, with every degree of publicity, involving
almost every element of nature, and in numbers so
great that they are summed up as comprehending
whole villages, towns, and neighborhoods in their bene-
factions. They produced an excitement in the public
10 I' 1 1 1' II I' I'- OF JEsua, THE emu ST.

mind so great that ofttimes secrecy was enjoined, lest

the Roman government should interfere.
That Christ should be the centre and active cause
of such stupendous imposture, on the supposition that
miracles were but deceptions, shocks the moral feeling
of those even who disbelieve his divinity. Widely as
men differ on every topic connected with the Christ,
there is one ground on which all stand together,
namely, that Jesus was good. Even Lifidelity would
feel bereaved in the destruction of Christ's moral
character. But to save that, and yet to explain away
the miracles which he wrought, has put ingenuity to
ludicrous shifts.

Renan, to save the character of his poetic hero, is

him
obliged to depict as the subject of an enthusiasm
which grew upon him until it became a self-deceiving
fanaticism. whole world has
It seems, then, that the
been under the influence of one who was not an imi^os-
tor, only because he was mildly insane !

That such a conclusion should give no pain to men

utterly destitute of religious aspirations may well be
conceived. But all others, looking upon this wanton
and needless procedure, will adopt the language of
Mary, and say, " They have taken away my Lord, and
I know not where they have laid him."
UVERTURE ui- Angels.
 THE OVERTURE OF A^GELiS. \\

CHAPTER II.

THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS.

Had been the design of Divine Providence that

it

the Gospels should be wrought up like a poem for lit-

erary and artistic effect, surely the narrative of the
angelic appearances would have glowed in all the
colon? of an Oriental morning. They are, indeed, to
those who have an eye to discern, a wonderful and ex-
quisitely tinted prelude to the dawn of a glorious day.
It is not to be supposed that the earth and its dull in-
habitants knew what was approacliing. But heavenly
spirits knew it. There was movement and holy ecstasy
in the Upper Air, and angels seem, as birds when new-
come have flown hither and thither, in
in spring, to
songful mood, dipping their white wings into our at-
mosphere, just touching the earth or glancing along
its surfjice, as sea-birds skim the surfice of the sea.

And yet l)irds are far too rude, and wings too burden-
some, to express adequately that feeling of unlabored
angelic motion which the narrative produces upon the
imagination. Their airy and gentle coming would per-
liaps he better compared to the glow of colors thmg by
tiie sun upon morning clouds that seem to be born
just where they appear. Like a l)eam of light striking
through some orifice, they shine upon Zacharias in the

Temple. As the morning light finds the flowers, so

found they the mother of Jesus. To the shepherds'
12 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

eyes they filled the midnight arch like auroral beams

of liglit ; but not as silently, for they sang, and more
marvellously than when "the morning stars sang
together and all God shouted for joy."
the sons of
The new era opens at Jerusalem. The pride with
which a devout Jew looked upon Jerusalem can
scarcely be imagined in our prosaic times. Men
loved that city with such passionate devotion as we
are accustomed to see bestowed only on a living per-
son. When the doctrine of immortality grew more
distinctly into the belief of holy men, no name could
be found which would make the invisible world so
attractive as that of the beloved city. New Jeru-
salem was the chosen name Heaven. for
Upon city broke the morning rays of the
this
Advent. A venerable priest, Zacharias, belonging to
the retinue of the Temple, had spent his whole life in
the quiet offices of religion. He Avas married, but
childless. To him happened a surprising thing.
It was his turn to biu^n incense, — the most honor-
able function of the priestly office. UiDon the great
altar of sacrifice, outside the holy place, the burnt-
oflering was placed. At a signal the priest came
forth, and, taking fire from this altar, he entered the
inner and more sacred place of the Temple, and there,
))efore the altar of incense, putting the fragrant gum
upon the coals, he swung the censer, filling the air
with wreaths of smoke. The people who had gath-
ered on the outside, as soon as the smoke ascended
silently sentwp their prayers, of which the incense
was the symbol. " And there appeared unto him an
angel of the Lord, standing on the right side of the
altar."
 ; ;

THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 13

That he trembled with fear and awe is apparent

from the angel's address, "Fear not!" —The key-
note of the new dispensation was sounded! Here-
after, God was to be brought nearer, to seem less

terrible and a religion of the spirit and of love was

;

soon to dispossess a religion of ceremonials and of

fear.

" Fear not, Zacliarias : for thy prayer is heard

And thy wife Elisabeth shall bear thee a son,
And thou shalt call his name John.
And thou shalt have joy and gladness
And many shall rejoice at his birth.
For he shall be great in the sight of the Lord,
And shall drink neither wine nor strong drink ;

And he shall be filled with the Holy Ghost even from his mother's
womb.
And many of the chihh'en of Israel shall he turn to the Lord their
God.
And he shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elias,
To turn the hearts of the parents to the children,
And the disobedient to the wisdom of the just;
To make ready a people prepared for the Lord."

If this address, to our modern ears, seems stately

and formal, it is to be remembered that no other lan-
guage would seem so fit for a heavenly message to a
Jewish priest as that which breathed the spirit of the
Old Testament writings; and that to us it savors of
the sermon because it has since been so often used
for the purposes of the sermon.
But the laws of the material world seemed to the
doubting priest more powerful than the promise of
that God who made :ill ])hysi(';il laws. To this distinct
j)romise of a son who should become a great reformer,
and renew the power and grandeur of the ])r()])lu'tic

ollicc, he could only say. "Whcrchy shall 1 know

this?" His doubts should have hc'Tun earlier, or
 !

14 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

not at all. He should have rejected the whole vision,

or should have accepted the promise implicitly; for
what sign could be given so assuring as the very
presence of the angel ? But the sign which he asked
was given in a way that he could never forget. His
sj^eech departed silence was the sign
; as if the ; —
priest of the Old was to teach no more until the com-
ing of the New.
When Zacharias came forth to the people, who
were already impatient at his long delay, they per-
ceived by his altered manner that some great experi-
ence had befallen him. He could not speak, and could
dismiss them only by a gesture.
We have no certainty whether this scene occurred
at a morning or an evening service, but it is supposed
to have been at the evening sacrifice. In that case
the event was an impressive sjanbol. The people be-
held their priest standing against the setting sun,
dumb, while they dispersed in the twilight, the shadow
of the Temple having already fallen upon them. The
Old was passing into darkness; to-morrow another sun
must rise
Elisabeth, the wife of Zacharias, returned to the " hill-
country," or that region lying west and south of Jeru-
salem. The promise had begun to be fulfilled. All the
promises made to Israel were pointing to their ful-

filment through her. These promises, accumulating

through ages, were ample enough, even in the letter, to
fill a devout soul with ardent expectancy. But falling
upon the imagination of a greatly distressed people,
they had been maii:nified or refracted until the public
mind was filled with inordinate and even fantastic ex-
pectations of the Messianic reign. It is not probable
 THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 15

thatany were altogether free from this delusion, not

even the soberest and most spiritual natures. We
can therefore imagine but faintly the ecstatic hopes
of Zacharias and Elisabeth during the six months in
which they were hidden in their home among the liills
before the history again finds them. They are next
introduced through the story of another memorable
actor in this drama, the mother of our Lord.
It is difficult to speak of Mary, the mother of Jesus,
both because so little is known of her and because so
much has been imagined. Around no other name in
history has the imagination thrown its witching light
in so great a volume. In art she has divided honors
with her divine Son. For a thousand years her name
has excited the profoundest reverence and worship.
A mother's love and foi'bearance with her children, as
it is a universal experience, so is it the nearest image
of the divine tenderness which the soul can foi-m.
In attempting to present the Divine Being in his
relations to universal government, men have well-nigh
lost his personality in a sublime Those
abstraction.
traits of personal tenderness and generous love which

alone will ever draw the human heart to God, it has

too often been obliged to seek elsewhere. And, liow-
ever mistaken the endeavor to find in the Vii-<rin
Mary the sympathy and fond familiarity of a divine
fi)stering love, it is an error hito which men have been

drawn by the profoundest needs of the human soul.

It isnn error of the heart. The cure will found W
by reveahug, in the Divine nature, the longed-for
traits in greater beauty and force than are given tlieni

in the legends of tlic niollicr of Jesus.

Meanwiiilc. if tlic doctors of tlicologN' have long
IG Till-: LIFE OF JESUS, THE VURIST.

hesitated to deify the Virgin, art has unconsciously

raised her to the highest place. There is nothing in
attitude, expression, or motion which has been left un-
tried. The earlier Christian painters were content to
express her pure fervor, without relying upon the ele-
ment of beauty. But as, age by age, imagination
kindled, the canvas has given forth this divine mother
in more and more glowing beauty, borrowing from
the Grecian spirit all that was charming in the high-

est ideals of Venus, and adding to them an element of

transcendent purity and devotion, which has no paral-
lel in ancient art.

It is difficult for one whose eye has been steeped in

the colors of art to go back from its enchantment to
the barrenness of actual history. By Luke alone is the
place even of her residence mentioned. It is only in-
ferred that she was of the voyaX house of David. She
was already espoused to a man named Joseph, but not
as yet married. This is the sum of our knowledge
of Mary at the point where her history is introduced.
Legends abound, many of them charming, but like
the innumerable faces which artists have painted, they
gratify the imagination without adding anything to
historic truth.
The scene of the Annunciation will always be admi-
rable in literature, even to those who are not disposed
to accord it any historic value. To announce to an
espoused virgin that she was to be the mother of a
child, out of wedlock, by the unconscious working in
her of the Divine power, would, beforehand, seem
inconsistent with delicac3^ -^^^^^^ person of poetic
sensibility can read the scene as it is narrated by

Luke without admiring its sublime purity and sei*enity.

 ; "

THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 17

It is not a transaction of the lower world of passion.

Things most difficult to a lower sphere are both easy
and beautiful in that atmosphere which, as it were,
the angel brought down with him.
"And the angel came in unto her and said, Hail!
thou that art highly favored \ The Lord is with thee !

Then was announced the birth of Jesus, and that he

should inherit and prolong endlessly the glories prom-
ised to Israel of old. To her inquiry, " How shall this

be ? " the angel replied :

—
" The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee,
And the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee
Therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee
Shall be called the Son of God."

It was also made known Mary that her cousin

to
Elisabeth had conceived a son. And Mary said " Be- :

hold the handmaid of the Lord Be it unto me accord-

!

ing to thy word."

Many have brought to this history the associations
of a later day, of a different civilization, and of habits of
thouo-ht forei":n to the whole cast of the Oriental mind.
Out of a process so unphilosophical they have evolved
the most serious doubts and difficulties. But no one
is fitted to appreciate either the beauty or the truth-
fulness to nature of such a scene, who cannot in some
degree carry himself buck in sympathy to that Jewish
maiden's life. The education of a Hebrew woman
was far freer than that of women of other Oriental na-
tions. She had nioi'e personal liberty, a wider scope of
intelligence, than obtained among the Greeks or even
among the Romans. But above all, she received a
moral education which placed her high above her sis-

ters in other lands.

8
18 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

It is plain that Mary was imbued with the spirit of

the Hebrew Scriptures. Not only was the history of
her people familiar to her, but her language shows that
the poetry of the Old Testament had filled her soul.
She was fitted to receive her people's history in its
most romantic and spiritual aspects. They were God's
peculiar people. Their history unrolled before her as
a series of wonderful providences. The path glowed
with divme manifestations. Miracles blossomed out of
every natural law. But to her there were no laws of
nature. Such had not yet been born.
ideas The
earth was " the Lord's." All its phenomena were direct
manifestations of his will. Clouds and storms came
on errands from God. Light and darkness were the
shining or the hiding of his face. Calamities were pun-
ishments. Harvests were divine gifts ; famines were
immediate divine penalties. To us God acts through
instruments ; to the Hebrew he acted immediately by
his will. " He spake, and it was done ; he commanded,
and it stood fast."

To such a one as Mary there would be no incredu-

lity as to the reality of this angelic manifestation. Her
only surprise would be that she should be chosen for a
renewal of those divine interpositions in behalf of her
people of which their history was so full. The very
reason which would lead us to suspect a miracle in our
day gave it credibility in other days. It is simply a
question of adaptation. A miracle as a blind appeal
to the moral sense, without the use of the reason, was
adapted to the earher periods of human life. Its
usefulness ceases when the moral sense is so developed
that it can find its own way through the ministration
of the reason. A miracle is a substitute for moral
 THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 19

demonstration, and is peculiarly adapted to the early

conditions of mankind.
Of all miracles, there was none more sacred, con-
gruous, and grateful to a Hebrew than an angeHc vis-

itation. A
devout Jew, in looking back, saw angels fly-
ing thick between the heavenly throne and the throne
of his fathers. The greatest events of national history
had been made illustrious by their presence. Their
work began with the primitive pair. They had come
at evening to Abraham's tent. They had waited upon
Jacob's footsteps. They had communed with Moses,
with the and magistrates, wuth
judges, with pi-iests
prophets and holy men. way down from the
All the
beginning of histor}-, the pious Jew saw the shining
footsteps of these heavenly messengers. Nor had the
faith died out in the long interval through which their

visits had been withheld. Mary could not, therefore,

be surprised at the coming of angels, but only that
they should come to her.
Itmay seem strange that Zacharias should be struck
dumb for doul^ting the heavenly messenger, while Mary
went unreb Liked. But it is plain that there was a
wide difference in the nature of the relative experi-
ences. To Zacharias was promised an event external
to himself, not involving bis own sensibility. Bui to a
woman's heart there can be no other annouiu'ement
possible that shall so stir every feeling and sensibility
of the sold, as the promise and prospect of her first
child. Motherhood is the very eentiv of womanhood.
The first awaking in her soul of the reality tliaf she
bears a double life — herself within herself — brings a

sweet bewilderment of wonder and j'oy. Tiie more

sure her faith of the fact, the more tremulous must
 ! ; ;

20 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

her soul become. Such an announcement can never

mean to a father's what it does to a mother's heart.
And it is one of the exquisite shades of subtle truth,

and of beauty as well, that the angel who rebuked

Zacharias for doubt saw nothintr in the trembling
hesitancy and wonder of Mary inconsistent with a
childlike faith.
hope of a new life in the
If the heart swells with the
common lot of mortals, with what profound feeling
must Mary have pondered the angel's promise to her
son
" He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest
And the Lord God shall give him the throne of his father David
And he shall reign over the house of Jacob forever,
And of his kingdom there shall be no end."

It is expressly stated that Joseph was of the " house

of David," but there is no evidence that Mary was
of the same, except this implication, The Lord God
'•

shall give him the throne of his fither David." Since

Joseph was not his father, it could only be through his
mother that he could trace his lineage to David.
There is no reason to suppose that Mary Avas more
enlightened than those among whom she dwelt, or that
she gave to these words that spiritual sense in which
alone they have proved true. To her, it may be sup-
posed, there arose a vague idea that her son was des-
tined to be an eminent teacher and deliverer. She
would naturally go back in her mind to the instances,
in the history of her own eminent men
people, of
and women who had been raised up in dark times to
deliver their people.
She lived in the very region which Deborah and
Barak had made famous. Almost before her eyes lay
 THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 21

the plains on which great deliverances had been

wrought by heroes raised up by the God of Israel.
But that other glory, of spiritual deliverance, was
hidden from her. Or, if that influence which over-
shadowed her awakened in her the spiritual vision, it
was doubtless to reveal that her son was to be some-
thing more than a mere worldly conqueror. But
it was not for her to discern the glorious reality. It
hung in the future as a dim brightness, whose par-
ticular form and substance could not be discerned.
For it is not to be supposed that Mary prophet as —
every woman is — could discern that spiritual truth
of the promises of the Old Testament which his own
disciples did not understand after companying with
Jesus for three years, nor yet after his ascension, nor
until the fire of the pentecostal day had kindled in
them the eye of flame that pierces all things and dis-

cerns the spirit.

"And Mary arose in those days, and went into the

with haste, into a city of Juda, and entered
liill-country
into thehouse of Zacharias and saluted Elisabeth."
The overshadowing Spirit had l)reathed upon her
tiie new life. What woman of deep soul was ever
unthrilled at the mystery of life beating within life ?

And what Jewish woman, devoutly believing that in

her child were to be fulfilled the hopes of Israel, could
hold this faith without excitement almost too great to
be borne? She could not tarry. With haste she trod
that way which she had (h)iihtless often trod helore in
hei- animal ascent to the Tenijjle. Kverv village, every
hrook, every hill, must have awakened in her some sad
recollection of the olden days of her ])eoj)le. There
was Tabor, from which came down Barak and his men.
 —

22 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

And in the great plain of Esclraelon he fought Sisera.

The waters of Kishon, murmuring at her feet, must
have recalled the song of Deborah. Here, too, Josiah
was slain at Megiddo, and " the mourning of Hadad-
Rimmon in the valley of Megiddoii" became the by-
word of grief Mount Gilboa rose upon her from the
east, Ebal and Gerizim stood forth in remembrance
of the sublime drama of blessings and cursings. Then
came Shechem, the paradise of Pale?<tine, in whose
neighborhood Joseph was buried. This pilgrim may
have quenched her thirst at noonday, as afterwards
her son did, at the well of Jacob ; and ftxrther to the

south might be that the oak of Mamre, under which

it

the patriarch dwelt, cast its great shadow upon her.

It is plam from the song of Mary, of which we shall
speak in a moment, that she bore in mind the his-
tory of the mother of Samuel, wife of Elkanah, who
dwelt in this region, and whose song, at the presenta-
tion of Samuel to the priest at Sliiloh, seems to have
been the mould in which Mary unconsciously cast her
own.
Thus, one after another, Mary must have passed the
most memorable spots in her people's history. Even
if not sensitive to patriotic influences, — still more if

she was alive to such sacred and poetic associations,

she must have come to her relative Elisabeth with
flaming heart.
Well she might ! What other mystery in human life

is so profound as the beginning of life ? From the

earliest days women have called themselves blessed of
God when life begins to palpitate within their, bosom.
It is not education, but nature, that inspires such tender
amazement. Doubtless even the Indian woman in
 THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 23

such periods dwells consciously near to the Great

Spirit! Every one of a deep nature seems to herself
more sacred and more especially under the divine
care while a new life, moulded by the divine hand, is
springing into being. For, of all creative acts, none
is so sovereign and divine. Who shall reveal the end-
less musings, the perpetual prophecies, of the mother's
soul Her thoughts dw ell upon the unknown child,
? —
thoughts more in nuinber than the ripples of the sea
upon some undiscovered shore. To others, in such
hours, woman should seem more sacred than the most
solemn temple and to herself she must needs seem
;

as if overshadowed by the Holy Ghost!

To this natural elevation were added, in the instance
of Mary and Elisabeth, those vague but exalted expec-
tations arising from the angelic annunciations. Both
of them believed that the whole future condition of
their nation was to be intimately affected by the lives
of their sons.
And Mary said :
—
" My soul tlotli inaffiiify the Lord,
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden ;

For, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.

For He that is mighty hath done to mc great things ;

And holy is his name.

And his mercy is on them that fear him
From generation to generation.
lie hath shewed strength with his arm ;

lie hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

He hath ])Ut down the mighty from tlieir seats,
And exaltecl them of low degree.
He hath filled the hungry with good things;
And the rich he hath sent empty away.
He hath holpen his servant Israel,
In remembrance of his mercy ;

As h<' spake to our fatliers.

To .\br;di:im, and to liis seccl fiirever."

 ; ; :; :: : ;

24 THE LIFE OF JESU;S. THE CIIRIST.

Unsympathizing critics remark upon the similarity

of this chant of Mary's with the song of Hannah/ the
mother of Samuel. Inspiration served to kindle the
materials already in possession of the mind. This
Hebrew maiden had stored her imagination with the
poetic elements of the Old Testament. But, of all tlie

' " My heart rcjoifcth in the Lord ;

My horn is exalted in the Lord ;

My mouth is enlarged over mine enemies

Because I rejoice in thy salvation.
There is none holy as the Lord
For there is none beside thee
Neither is there any rock like our God.
Talk no more so exceeding proudly :

Let not arrogancy come out of your mouth :

For the Lord is a God of knowledge,

And by him actions are weighed.
The bows of the mighty men are broken,
And they that stumbled are gii-ded with strength.
They that were full have hired out themselves lor bread ;

And they that were hungry ceased ;

So that the barren hath borne seven;

And she that hath many children is waxed feeble.
The Lord killeth, and maketh alive :

lb- bringeth down to the grave, and bringeth u^).

The Lord maketh poor, and maketh rich
He l)ringeth low, and lifteth up.
He up the poor out of the dust,
raiseth
And up the beggar from the dunghill.
lifteth

To set them among princes,

And to make them inherit the throne of glory
For the pillars of the earth are the Lord's,
And he hath set the world upon them.
He will keep the feet of his saints,
And the wicked shall l)e silent in darkness
For by strength shall no man prevail.

The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces

Out of heaven sliall he thunder upon them
Tlie Lord shall judge the ends of the earth;
And he shall give strength unto his King,
And exalt the horn of his Anointed."
 THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 25

treasures atcommand, only a devout and grateful na-

ture would have made so unselfish a selection. For it is
not upon her own blessedness that Mary chiefly dwells,
but upon the sovereignty, the goodness, and the glory
of God. To be exalted by the joy of our personal
prosperity above self-consciousness into the atmos-
phere of thanksgiving and adoration, is a sure sign of
nobility of soul.
For three months these sweet and noble women
dwelt together, performing, doubtless, the simple labors
of the household. Their thoughts, their converse, their
employments, must be wholly to the imagination.
left

And yet, it is impossible not to be curious in regard to

these hidden days of Judaea, when the mother of our
Lord was already fashioning that sacred form which, in
due time, not far from her residence, perhaps within the
very sight of it, was to be lifted up upon the cross.
But it is a research whichwe have no means of
pursuing. Her thoughts must be impossible to us,

as our thoughts of her son were impossible to her.

No one can look forward, even in the spirit of proph-
ecy, to see after-things in all their fuhiess as the}'
shall be ; nor can one who has known go back again to
see as if he had not known.
After Mary's return to Nazareth, Elisabeth was de-
Hvcred of a son. Following the custom of their peo-
ple, her friends would have named him after his fatliei-,
but tlic' uiother, mindful of the name given by the an-
gel, called him John. An appeal was uiade to the priest
— who pr()l)ably was deaf as well as duml), for they made
signs to him —
how the child sliould be named. Calling
for writing-materials, he surprised them all l)y naming

iiini as his wil'c had. —

John. At once \\\v si«>n ceased.
 ;

2G TlIK LIFE or JKSUS, Till-: CliniST.

His were unsealed, and he broke forth into thanks-

lips

giving and praise. All the circumstances conspired to

awaken wonder and to spread throughout the neigh-
borhood mysterious expectations, men saying, " What
manner of child shall this be ? "
The first chapter of Luke may be considered as
the last leaf of the Old Testament, so saturated is it
with the heart and spirit of the olden times. And the
song of Zacharias clearly reveals the state of feeling
among Jews of that day. Their nation was
the best
grievously pressed down by foreign despotism. Their
people were scattered through the world. The time
was exceedingly dark, and the promises of the old
prophets served by contrast to make their present dis-
tress yet darker. We are not surprised, therefore, to
find the first jiortion of Zacharias's chant sensitively
recognizing the degradations and sufferings of his jjeo-

ple :
—
" Blessed be the Lord God of Israel
For he hath and redeemed his people,
visited

And hath raised up an horn of salvation for ns

In the house of his servant David

(As he spake by the mouth of his holy prophets,
"NMiichhave been since the world began) ;

Tliat we should be saved from our eni'uiies,

And fi-om the hand of all that hate us ;

To perform the mercy promised to our iathers,

And to remember his holy covenant,

The oath which he sware to our father Aljraham,
That he would grant unto us.
That we being delivered out of the hand of our enemies
Might serve him without fear,
In holiness and righteousness before him,
All the days of our life."

Then, as if seized with a spirit of prophecy, and be-

holding the relations and offices of his son, in language
 : ;

THE OVELiTUllE OF ANGELS. 27

as poetically beautiful as it is sj)iritually triumphant he

exclaims :
—
" And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest
For thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways
To give knowledge of salvation unto his people
By the remission of their sins.
Through the tender mercy of om* God ;

Whereby the day-spring fi'ora on high hath visited us,

To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
To guide our feet into the way of peace."

Even in his childhood John manifested that fulness

of nature and that earnestness which afterwards fitted
him for his mission. He "waxed strong in sj)irit."

He did not mingle in the ordinary pursuits of men.

As one who bears a sensitive conscience and refuses
to mingle in the throng of men of low morality, he
stood apart and was solitary. was in the deserts He "

until the day of his showing unto Israel."

Mary had returned to Nazareth. Although Joseph,
to whom she was betrothed, was descended from

David, every sign of royalty had died out. He earned

his Hvelihood by working in wood, probably as a car-

])enter, though the word applied to his trade admits of

uiucli larger application. Tradition lias uniformly rep-
resented him as a carpenter, and ai't has conformed to
tradition. He appears but on the threshold of the liis-

toiy. He goes to Egypt, returns to Nazareth, and is

faintly recognized as present when Jesus was twelve

years of age. But nothing more is heard of him. If
alive when his reputed son entered u])on public min-
istry, there is no sign of it. And as Mary is often
mi'utioned in the history of the Lord's mission, it

is probable that Joseph died before Jesus entered

u|)on his public life. He is ciillecl man, and we
a just

know that he was humane. For when he perceived

28 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the condition of his betrothed wife, instead of press-

ing to its full rigor the Jewish law against her, he
meant quietly and without harm to set her aside.
When in a vision he learned the truth, he took
Mary as his wife.
In the thousand pictures of the Holy Family, Joseph
is represented as a venerable man, standing a little apart,

lost in contemplation, while Mary and Elisabeth caress

the child Jesus. In this' respect. Christian art has, it is

probable, rightly represented the character of Joseph.

He was but a shadow on the canvas. Such men are
found in every community, — gentle, blameless, mildly
but exerting no positive influence. Except in
active,
one or two vague implications, he early disappears
from sight. No mention is made of his death, though
he must have deceased long before Mary, who in all

our Lord's ministry appears alone. He reappears in

the ecclesiastical calendar as St. Joseph, simply be-
cause he was the husband of Marj^, —a harmless
saint, mild and silent.

An imperial order having issued for the taxing of

the whole nation, it became necessary for every one,
according to the custom of the Jews, to repair to the
city where he belonged, for registration.^

'
It is needless to considiT the. diOiculty to which this passage has given
rise. Josephus states tliat Qiiirinins became <j:overnor of Judaea
(Cyreniiis)
after the death of Arehehiiis, Herod's son and lieii-, and so some eight or
ten years after the birth of Clirist. How then coidd that taxing have
brought Joseph from Nazareth to Bethkdiem ? The innnense ingenuity
which has been employed to solve this difficulty will scarcely add to the
value of hypothetical historical reasoning. Especially when now, at length,

it is ascertained u])on grounds almost certain, that Quirinius was twice gov-
ernor of Syria. See Schaff 's note to Lange's Com. (Luke, pp. 32, 33), and
the more full discussion in Smith's Bible Dirliounri/. Art. " Cyrenius," and
President Woolsey's addition to this article in Hurd and Houghton's Amer-
ican edition.
 THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 29

From Nazareth to Bethlehem was about eighty miles.

Travelling slowly, as the condition of Mary required,
they would probably occupy about four days in reach-
ing their destination. Already the place was crow^ded
with others brought thither on the same errand. They
probably sought shelter in a cottage, for "the inn was
full," and there Mary gave birth to her child.
It is said by Luke that the child was laid in a man-
ger, from which it has been inferred that his parents
had taken refuge in a stable. But tradition asserts that
it was a cave, such as abound in the limestone rock of

that region, and are used both for sheltering herds

and, sometimes, for human residences. The precip-
itous sides of the rock are often pierced in such a way
that a cottage built near might easily convert an ad-
joining cave to the uses of an outbuilding.
Caves are not rare in Palestine, as with us. On the
contrary, the whole land seems to be honeycombed
with them. They are, and have been for ages, used for
almost every purpose which architecture supplies in
other lands, — as dwellings for the living and sepul-
chres for the dead, as shelter for the household and for
cattle and herds, as hidden retreats for robbers, and
as defensive positions or rock-castles for soldiers.
Travelk'rs make them a refuge when no better inn is
at hand. They are shaped into reservoirs for water,
or, if dry, they are employed as granaries. The lime-
sfoiic ol" the region is so poi'oiis and soft, that hut a
htth> lahor is required to cularge, refashion, and a(la|)t

caves to any desirable pur})()sc.

Of the " manger," or " crib," Thomson, loug a uiis-

sionary in Palestine, says :

" It is common to find two
sides ol" the one room, where the uatixt.' farmer resides
30 TllK LIFE UF JESUS, THE (lilt I ST.

with his up with these mangers, and the re-

cattle, fitted

mainder elevated about two feet higher for the accom-

modation of the family. The mangers are built of
small stones and mortar, in the shape of a box, or,
rather, of a kneading-trough, and when cleaned up and
whitewashed, as they often are in summer, they do
very well to lay little babes in. Indeed, our own chil-

dren have slept there in our rude summer retreats on

^
the mountains."
The laying of the little babe in the manger is not to
be regarded then as an extraordinary^ thing, or a posi-
tive hardship. It was merely subjecting the child to
a custom which peasants frequently practised with
their children. Jesus began his life with and as the
lowest.

About five miles south of Jerusalem, and crowning

the top and sides of a ujutow ridge or spur which
shoots out eastwardly from the central mass of the
Juda?an hills, was the village of Bethlehem. On every
side but the western, the hill breaks down abruptly
into deep valleys. The steep slopes were terraced and
cultivated from top to bottom. A little to the east^
ward is a kind of plain, where it is supposed the shep-
herds, of all shepherds that ever lived now the most
famous, tended their flocks. The great fruitfulness of

its fields is supposed to have given to Bethlehem its

name, which signifies the " House of Bread." Famous

as it has become, it was but a hamlet at the birth of
Jesus. Here King David was born, but there is noth-
ing to indicate that he retained any special attachment
to the place. In the rugged valleys and gorges which

1 Thomson's The Land and the Book, Vol. 11. p. 98.

 THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 31

abound on every side, he had watched his father's flocks

and had become inured to danger and to toil, defend-
ing his charge on the one hand against wild beasts, and
on the other against the scarcely less savage predatory
tribes that infested the region south and east. From
Bethlehem one may look out upon the very fields
made beautiful forever to the imagination by the
charming idyl of David's ancestress, Ruth the Moabitess.
Changed as Bethlehem itself is, which, from holding a
mere handful then, has a population now of some four
thousand, customs and the face of nature remain the
same. The hills are terraced, the fields are tilled,
Hocks are tended by laborers unchanged in garb, work-
ing with the same kinds of implements, having the
same manners, and employing the same salutations as
in the days of the patriarchs.
Were Boaz to return to-day, he would hardly see an
unfamiliar thing in his old fields, — the barley harvest,
the reapers, the gleaners, the threshing-floors, and the
rude threshing, — all are there as they were thousands
of years ago.
At the season of our Saviour's advent, the nights
were soft and genial.^ It was no hardship for rugged
' This is true, be selected of the many which have been
whichever date shall
urged by dilVrrent learned men. But further than this there is no cer-
tainty. " In the primitive Church there was no agreement as to the time
of Christ's birth. In the East the 6th of January was observed as the day
of his baptism and birth In the third century, as Clement of Alexandria
relates, scjme regarded the 20th of May, others the 20th of A])rii, as the

birthday of our Saviour, .\moiig modern chronologists and liiograpluTs of

Jesus llu-re is still greater dilference of opinion, and every month even —
June ami July (when the fields are parched from want of rain) has I)een —
named as the time when the great event took place. Lightfoot assigns the
Nativity to September, Lardner and Newcome to October, Wieseler to Feli-
ruary, I'aulus to March, (h-cswcH and AHl-ra to the .')th of April, just after
the spring rains, when there is an al)undance of pasture ; Lichtcnstein
32 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

shepherds to spend the night in the fields with their

flocks. By day, as the sheep fed, their keepers might
while away their time with sights and sounds along
the earth. When darkness shut in the scene, the
heavens would naturally attract their attention. Their
eyes had so long kept company with the mysterious
stars, that, doubtless, like shepherds of more ancient

times, they were rude astronomers, and had grown

famiUar with the planets, and knew them in all their
courses. But there came to them a night surpassing
all nights in wonders. Of a sudden the whole heavens
were filled with light, as if morning were come upon
midnight. Out of this splendor a single voice issued, as
of a choral leader, —
"Behold, I bring you glad tidings
of great joy." The shepherds were told of the Saviour's
birth, and of the place where the babe might be found.
Then no longer a single voice, but a host in heaven,
was heard celebrating the event. " Suddenly there was
with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, prais-
ing God, and saying,
" Glory to God in the highest,

And on earth peace, good-will toward men."

Raised to a fervor of wonder, these children of the

field made haste to find the babe, and to make known
on every side the marvellous vision. Moved by this

places it in July or December, Strong in August, Robinson in autumn,

Clinton in spring, Andrews between the middle of December, 749, and the
middle of January, 750, A. U. C. On the other hand, Roman Catholic histo-
rians and biographers of Jesus, and also
as Sepp, Friedlieb. Bucher, Patritins,
some Protestant wi-iters, defend the popular tradition, —
the 25th of De-
cember. Wordsworth gives up the problem, and thinks that the Holy Spirit
has concealed the knowledge of the year and day of Christ's birth and the
duration of his ministry from the wise and prudent, to teach them humil-
ity." — Dr. Schaff, in Lange's Commentary (Luke, p. 36).
 ;

THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 33

faith to worship and to glorify God, they were thus

unconsciously the earliest disciples and the first evan-
gelists, for " they made known abroad the saying which
was told them concerning this child."

In beautiful contrast with these rude exclamatory

worshippers, the mother is described as silentand
thoughtful. " Mary kept all these things and pon-
dered them in her heart." If no woman comes to
herself until she loves, so, it may be said, she knows
not how to love until her first-born is in her arms.
Sad is it for her who does not feel herself made
sacred by motherhood.
That heart-pondering Who !

may tell the thoughts which rise from the deep places
of an inspired love, more in number and more beauti-
ful than the particles of vapor which the sun draws

from the surface of the sea ?

Intimately as a mother must feel that her babe is

connected with her o\\ti body, even more she is wont

to feel that her child comes direct from God. God-
given is a familiar name in every language. Not from
her Lord came this child to Mary. It was her Lord
himself that came.
A sweet and trusting faith in God, childlike simplicity,
and profound love seem to have formed the nature of
Mary. She may be accepted as the type of Christian
motherliood. In tliis view, and excluding the dogma
of her immaculate nature, and still more emphatically
that of {xwy other participation in divinity tli;iu thiit

which is couunon to all, we may receive with ])leasure

tlie stores of excjuisite pictures with which Christian
art has lillrd its realm. The ''
Madonnas" are so many
tributes to the beauty and dignity of motherliood
8
 !

34 I'lll^ l-ll'l^ OF JESUS, THE CUlilST.

and they may stand so interpreted, now that the

superstitious associations which they have had are so
wholly worn aAvay. At any rate, the Protestant re-
action from Mary has gone far enough, and, on our
own groiuids, we may well have our share also in the
memory of this sweet and nol)le woman.
The same reason which led our Lord to clothe him-
self with flesh made it proper, when he was born, to
have fulfilled upon him all the customs of his peojile.
He was therefore circumcised when eight days old, and
presented in the Temple on the fortieth day, at which
period his mother had completed the time appointed for
her purification. The offering required was a lamb and
a dove ; but if the parents were poor, then two doves.
Mary's humble condition was indicated by the offering
of two doves. And yet, if she had heard the exclama-
tion ofJohn after the Lord's baptism, years afterwards,
she might have perceived that, in spite of her poverty,
she had brought the Lamb, divine and precious
Surprise upon surprise awaited Mary. There dwelt
at Jerusalem, Avrapped in his own devout and longing
thoughts, a great nature, living contentedly in obsciu-ity,
Simeon by name. This venerable man seized the child
with holy rapture, when it was presented in the Temple,
and broke forth in the very spirit of a prophet :
—
" Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace,
According to thy word :

For mine eyes have seen thy salvation,

"NVhit li tliou hast prepared before the face of all people ;

A light to lighten the Gentiles,

And the glory of thy people Israel."

Both Mary and Joseph were amazed, but there was

something in Mary's appearance that drew this inspired
 THE OVFAiTURE OF ANGELS. 35

old man specially to her. " Behold, this child is set for
the fall and rising again of many in Israel Yea,
a sword shall pierce through thine own soul also."
As the asters, among plants, go all summer long un-
hidden within, and burst into
beautiful, their flowers •

bloom at the very end of summer and in late autumn,

with the frosts upon their heads, so this aged saint had
blossomed, at the close of a long life, into this noble
ecstasy of joy. In a stormy time, when outward life

moves wholly against one's wishes, he is truly great

whose soul becomes a sanctuary in which patience
dwells with hope. In one hour Simeon received full
satisfaction for the yearnings of many years !

Among more perhaps than in any other

the Jews,
Oriental nation, woman was permitted to develop nat-
urally, and liberty was accorded her to participate
in things which other people reserved with zealous se-
clusion for men. Hebrew women were prophetesses,
teachers (2 Kings xxii. 14), judges, queens. The ad-
vent of our Saviour was hailed appropriately by
woman, — Anna, the prophetess, joining with Simeon
in praise and thanksgiving.
But other witnesses were preparing. Already the
footsteps of strangers afar off were advancing toward
Judaea. Erelong Jerusalem was thrown into an excite-
ment by the arrival of certain sages, probably from
Persia. The city, like an uneasy volcano, was always on
the eve of an eruption. When it was known tliat tiiese
pilgrims had come to inquire about a king, wbo, tliey
believed, bad been born, a king of tlie Jews, the news
excited botli the city and the palace, —
hope in one,
fear in tlie otber. Herod dreaded a rival. The Jews
longed for a native prince whose arm should expel the
 !

36 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRTST.

intrusive government. No wonder

Herod was that "
troul)led,and all Jerusalem with him." He first sum-
moned the Jewish schohirs, to know where, according to
their projDhets, the Messiah was to be born. Bethle-
hem was the place of prediction. Next, he summoned
the Magi, secretly, to learn of them at what time the
revealing star had appeared to them, and then, craftily
veiling his cruel purposes with an assumed interest, he
charges them, when the child was found, to let him be
a worshipper too
The same which had drawn their footsteps to
star
Jerusalem now guided the wise men to the very place
of Jesus' birth.
What was this star ? All that can be known is, that
it was some appearance of light in the sky, which by
these Oriental philosophers was supposed to indicate a
great event. Ingenuity has unnecessarily been exer-
cised to prove that at about this time there was a con-
junction of three planets. But did the same thing
happen again, after their arrival at Jerusalem ? For
it is stated that, on their leaving the city to go to Beth-

lehem, " lo, the star which they saw in the east went
before them till it came and stood over where the j'oung
child was." How could a planetary conjunction stand
over a particular house ? It is evident that the sidereal
guide was a globe of light, divinely ordered and ap-
pointed for this work. It was a miracle. That nature
is but an organized outworking of the divine will, that

God is not limited to ordinary law in the production of

results, that he can, and that he does, produce events by
the direct force of his will without the ordinary instru-
ments of nature, is the very spirit of the whole Bil)le.
These gleams of immediate power flash through in
 THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 37

every age. The superiority of spiritual power over

sensuous, is the ilkiminating truth of the New Testa-
ment. The gospels should be taken or rejected unmu-
tilated. The disciples plucked the wheat-heads, and,
rubbing them in their hands, they ate the grain. But
our sceptical believers take from the New Testament its
supernatural element, — rub out the wheat, — and eat
the chaff. There is consistency in one who sets the
gospels aside on the ground that they are not inspired,
that they are not even historical, that they are grow^ths
of the and covered all over w^ith the
imagination,
parasites of superstition but in one who professes to
;

accept the record as an inspired history, the disposition

to pare miracles down to a scientific shape, to find
their roots in natural laws, is neither reverent nor
sagacious. Miracles are to be accepted boklly or not
at all. They are jewels, and sparkle with divine light,
or they are nothing.
This guide of the Magi was a light kindled in the
heavens to instruct and lead those whose eyes were
prepared to receive it. If the vision of angels and the
extraordinary conception of the Virgin are received as
miraculous, it ought not to be ditiicult to accept the
star seen from the east as a miracle also.

The situation of the child ill befitted Oriental notions

of a king's dignity. But under the divine influence
which rested upon the Magi, they doubtless saw more
than the outward circumstances. Humble as the place
was, poor as his parents evidently were, and he a mere
babe, they fell down before him in worship, and pre-
sented princely gifts, "gold, IVaukincense, and uiyirh."
Instead of returning to Herod, they went back to their
own country.
38 '^liE LIFE OF JFSUS, TTIK CHRIST.

And now it Wcis time for Joseph to look well to his

safety. If there was to be a king in Israel, he was to
come from the house of David, and Joseph was of that
stock, and his child, Jesus, was royal too. Herod's
jealousy was aroused. He was not a man wont to
miss the fulfilment of any desire on account of hu-
mane or moral scruples. The return of the Magi with-
out giving him the knowledge which he sought seemed
doubtless to the king like another step in a plot to su]>
vert his throne. He determined to make thorough work
of this nascent peril, "and sent forth and slew all the
children that were in Bethlehem, and in all the coasts
thereof, from two years .old and under." He put the
limit of age at a periodwhich would make it sure that
the new-born king of the Jews would be included.
It has been objected to the probable truth of this
statement, that such an event could hardly fail to be
recorded by secular historians, and especially by Jose-
phus, who narrates the contemporaneous history with
much minuteness. But this event is far more striking
upon our imagination now, than it was likel}^ to be
upon the attention of men then. For, as Bethlehem
was a mere hamlet, with but a handful of people, it has
been computed that not more than ten or fifteen chil-
dren could have perished by this merciless edict. Be-
sides, what was such an act as this, in a life stored full

of abominable cruelties ? " He who had immolated a

cherished wife, a brother, and three sons to his jealous
suspicions, and who ordered a general massacre for the
day of his funeral, so that his body should not be borne
to the earth amidst general rejoicings," may easily be
supposed to have filled up the spaces with minor cruel-

ties which escaped record. But here is an historical

 THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 39

record. It is no impeachment of its truth to aver that

there is it. Until some disproof is
no other history of
alleged, must stand.
it

Stirred by a divine impulse, Joseph had already re-

moved the child from danger. Whither should he flee?
Egypt was not distant, and the roads thither were easy
and much frequented. Thither too, from time to time,
exiled for various reasons, had resorted numbers of
Jews, so that, though in a foreign land, he would be
among his own countrymen, all interested alike in hat-
ing the despotic cruelty of Herod. There is no record
of the place of Joseph's sojourn in Egypt. Tradition,
always uncertain, places it at Matarea, near Leonto])olis,
where subsequently the Jewish temple of Onias stood.
His stay was probably brief For, within two or
three weeks of the foregoing events, Herod died.
Joseph did not return to Bethlehem, though he de-
sired to do so, but was warned of God in a dream
of his danger. It was probable that Archelaus, who

succeeded to Herod in Judaea, would be as suspicious

of danger Irom an heir royal of the house of David as
his father had been so Joseph passed ; it may be —
\)y way of the sea-coast — northward, to Nazareth,
whence a few months before he had removed.

Before closing this chapter we shall revert to one

of tlie most striking features of the period thus far
j)assed over, namely, flw mim'.sfndion of (on/rls. The l)elief
in the existence of heavenly beings who in some man-
ner are coiiccnicd in the allliii's of men. lias existed
IVom the earliest periods of which we have a history
This Caith is peculiarly grateful lo llic hiniiau heart,
and, though it has never been received with lavor by
40 'J^tii^ LIFE OF JEStfS, THE CIilU:bT.

men addicted to purely physical studies,

has been it

entertained by the Church with fond

and by the ftiith

common people with the enthusiasm of sympathy.

It is scarcely possible to follow the line of develop-
ment in the animal kingdom, and to witness the grada-
tions on the ascending scale, unfolding steadily, rank

above rank, until man is reached, without having the

presumption awakened that there are intelligences
above man, —
creatures which rise as much above him
as he above the inferior animals.
When the word of God announces the ministration
of angels, records their early visits to this planet, repre-
sents them as bending over the race in benevolent
sympathy, bearing warnings, consolations, and messages
of wisdom, the heart receives the doctrine even against
the cautions of a sceptical reason.
Our might be put to shame if the scriptural
faith
angels bore any analogy to those of the rude and puerile
histories contained in apocryphal books. But the long
line of heavenly visitants shines in unsullied brightness
as high above the beliefs and prejudices of an early age
as the stars are above the vapors and dust of earth.
While patriarchs, prophets, and apostles show all the
deficiencies of their own period and are stained with
human passions, the angelic beings, judged by the most
fastidious requirements of these later ages, are without
spot or blemish. They are not made up of human
traits idealized. They are unworldly, of — a different
type, of nobler presence, and " of far grander and
sweeter natures than any living on earth.
The ano;els of the oldest records are like the anu^els
of the latest. The Hebrew thought had moved through
a vast arc of the infinite cycle of truth between the days
 THE OVERTURE OF ANGELS. 4j

when Abraham came from Ur of Chaldaea and the times

of our Lord's stay on earth. But there is no develop-
ment in angels of later over those of an earlier date.
They were as beautiful, as spiritual, as pure and
noble, at the beginning as at the close of the old dis-
pensation. Can such creatures, transcending earthly
experience, and far outrunning anything in the life of
man, be creations of the rude ages of the human under-
standing ?

We could not imagine the Advent stripped of its an-

gelic lore. The dawn without a twilight, the sun with-
out clouds of silver and gold, the morning on the fields
without dew-diamonds, — but not the Saviour without
his angels ! They shine within the Temple, they bear
to the matchless mother a message which would have
))een disgrace from mortal lips, but which fjom theirs

I'ell upon her as pure as dew-drops upon the lilies of

the plain of Esdraelon. They communed with the
Saviour in his glory of transfiguration, sustained him
in the anguish of the garden, watched at the tomb; and
as they had thronged the earth at his coming, so they
seem to have hovered in the air in multitudes at the
hour of his ascension. Beautiful as they seem, they
are never mere poetic adornments. The occasions of
their appearing are grand. The reasons are weighty.
Their demeanor suggests and befits the Iiighest con-
ception of superior beings. These are the very ele-
ments that a rude age could not fashion. Could a
sensuous aire invent an order of ))einu:s, which, touch-
inu' the earth IVoui a lieavenly height on its uiost uio-
iHcntoiis occasions, couM still, after aijres of culture liad

rcliucd the human taste aud moral a])j)reciatiou, I'euiaiu

inell'ahly su})erior in delicacy, in pure spirituality, to
42 Till-: Lll-E OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the demands of criticism ? Their very coming and

going is not with earthly movement. They suddenly
are seen in the air as one sees white clouds round
out from the blue sky, in a summer's day, that melt
back even while one looks upon them. They vibrate
between the visible and the invisible. They come
without motion. They go without flight. They dawn
and disappear. Their words are few, but the Advent
Chorus yet is sounding its music through the world.
A part of the angelic ministration is to be looked for
inwhat men are by it incited to do. It helps the mind
to populate heaven with spiritual inhabitants. The
imagination no longer translates thither the gross
corporeity of this life. We suspect that few of us
are aware how much our definite conceptions of spirit-
life are the product of the angel-lore of the Bible.
It is to be noticed that only in Luke is the history
of the angelic annunciation given. It is to Luke also
that we are indebted for the record of the angels at
the tomb on the morning of the resurrection. Luke
has been called the Evangelist of Greece. He was
Paul's companion of travel, and particularly among the
Greek cities of Asia Minor. This suggests the fact
that the angelic commemorated in the
ministration
New Testament would greatly facilitate among Greeks
the reception of monotheism. Comforting to us as is

the doctrine of angels, it can hardly be of the same

help as it was to a Greek or to aRoman when he first
accepted the Christian faith. The rejection of so many
divinities must have left the fields, the mountains, the
and temples very bare to all who had l)een accus-
cities

tomed to heathen mythology. The ancients seem to

have striven to express universal divine presence by
 TBE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST. 43

multiplying their gods. This at least had the effect of

giving life to every part of nature. The imaginative
Greek had grown familiar with the thought of gods
innumerable. Every stream, each grove, the caves, the
fields, the clouds, suggested some divine person. It

would be almost impossible to strip such a one of those

fertile suggestions and tie him to the simple doctrine

of One God, without producing a sense of cheerless-

ness and solitude. Ano;els come in to make for him an
easy transition from polytheism to monotheism. The
air might still be populous, his imagination yet be full

of teeming suggestions, but no longer with false gods.

Now there was to him but one God, but He was
served by multitudes of blessed spirits, children of
lioht and glory. Instead of a realm of conflicting
divinities there was a household, the Father looking
in benignity upon his radiant family. Thus, again, to
the Greek, as to the Patriarch, angels ascended and de-
scended the steps that lead from earth to heaven.
44 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

CHAPTER III.

THE DOCTRINAL BASIS.

Before we enter upon the childhood of Jesus, and,

with still more reason, before we enter upon his adult

life, it is necessary to form some idea of his original

nature. No one conversant with the ideas on this

point which fill the Christian world can avoid taking
one or another of the philosophical views
sides ^vith
which have divided the Church. Even mere readers,
who seem to themselves uncommitted to any doctrine
of the natm-e of Christ, are unconsciously in s\in-
pathy with some theory. But to draw up a history
of Christ without some pilot-idea is impossible. Every
fact in the narrative will take its color and foiTQ from
the philosophy around which it is grouped.
Was Jesus, then, one of those gifted men who have
from time to time arisen in the world, differing from
their fellows only in pre-eminence of earthly power, in
a fortunatetemperament, and a happy balance of Acui-
ties? he simply and only an extraordinary Man?
Was
This \'iew was early taken, and as soon vehemently
combated. But it has never ceased to be held. It

reappears in every age. And it has special hold upon

thoughtful minds to-day ; upon such thought-
at least,
ful minds as are imbued with the present spirit of ma-
terial science. The physical laws of nature, we are
told, are invariable and constant, and all true knowl-
 THE DOCTRISAL BASIS. \'y

edge is the product of the observation of such la^vs.

This view will exclude, not only niu'acles, the divine

inspiration of holv men of old, and the divinitv of
Jesus Christ ; but, if honestly followed to its proper
consequences, it will destroy the grounds on which
stand the belief of the immortality of the soul and
of the existence of angels and spirits ; and, finally

and deny the validity of all eviden-

fotally, it will

ces of the existence and government of God. And

we accordingl}- find that, on the Em'opean continent
and in England, the men of some recent schools of
science, without deming the existence of an intelli-

gent, personal God. deny that there is. or can be. any
human hiouiedge of the fact. The nature of the hu-
man mind, and the laws under which all knowledge is
gained, it is taught, prevent our knowing ^vith cer-
tainty auA^thing beyond the reach of the senses and of
personal consciousness. God is the Unknown, and
the life beyond this the Unknowable. There are
many inclining to this position who would be shocked
at the results to which it logically leads. But it is
difficult to see how one can reject miracles, as philo-
sophically impossible, except upon grounds of mate-
rialistic science which lead ii'resistibly to veiled or
overt atheism.
The Lives of Christ which have been written from
the purely humanitarian view have not been without
their benefits. They have brought the historical ele-
ments of his life into clearer light, have called back
the mind from speculative and imaginative efforts iu
spiritual directions, and have given to a dim and dis-
tant idea the clearness and reality of a fact. Like
some old picture of the masters, the Gospels, ex-
 !

46 i'Jll' I'll' I'' '>'' ll-'-'^f'S, THE (11 HI ST.

posed to the dust and smoke of superstition, to re-

varnishing glosses and retouching phikjsophies, in the
sight of many had lost their original ))rightness and
beaut3^ The rationalistic school has done much to re-
move these false surfjxces, and to bring back to tlie ejx'

the original picture as it was laid upon the canvas.

But, this work ended, every step beyond has Ijeen
mischievous. The genius of the Gospels has been cru-
cified to a theory of Christ's humanity. The canons
of historical criticism have been adopted or laid aside
as the exigencies of the special theory required. The
most lawless fancy has been called in to correct the
alleged fancifulness of the evangelists. Not only has
the picture been " restored," but the pigments have
been taken off, reground, and laid on again by mod-
ern hands. A new head, a different countenance,
appears. They found a God : they have left a feeble
man
Dissatisfied with the barrenness of this school,
which leaves nothing upon which devotion may fas-
ten, another class of thinkers have represented Jesus
as more than human, but as less than divine. What
that being is to whose kind Jesus belongs, ihey cannot
tell. Theirs is a theory of compromise. It adopts
the obscure as a means of hidintr definite difficulties.
It admits the grandeur of Christ's nature, and the
sublimity of his life and teachings. It exalts him
above angels, but not to the level of the Throne.
It leaves him wide and mysterious space that
in that
lies between the finite and the infinite.

The theological difficulties which inhere in such a

theory are many. It may enable reasoners to elude
pursuit, but it will not give them any vantage-ground
 THE DOrTRfNAL BASIS. 47

for a conflict with philosophical objections. And yet,

as the pilotridea of a Life of Christ, it is far less mis-
chievous than the strictly humanitarian view ; it does
less violence to recorded facts. But it cannot create
an ideal on which the soul may feed. After the last
touch is given to the canvas, we see only a Creature.
The soul admires but it must go elsewhere to bestow
;

its utmost love and reverence.

A third view is held, which may be called the doc-
trine of the Church, at least since the fourth century.
It attributes to Jesus a double nature, — a human soul
and a divine soul in one body. It is not held that
these two souls existed separately and in juxtaposi-
tion, —
two separate tenants, as it were, of a common
dwelling. Neither is it taught that either soul al>
sorbed the other, so that the divine lapsed into the
human, or the human expanded into the divine.
But it is held that, by the union of a human and a
divine nature, the one person Jesus Christ became
God-Man a being carrying in himself both natures,
;

inseparably blended, and never again to be dissevered.

This new fJmnilhropic being, of blended divinity and
liiimanity, will occasionno surprise in those who are
familiar with modes of thought which belonged to the
early theologians of the Church. It is only when, in

our day, this doctrine is supposed to be found in the

New Testament, that one is inclined to surprise.
For, as in a hot campjiign the nature of the lines ol"

intrenchment is determined by the assaults of the

enemy, so tiiis doctiine took its shape not fioiii
Scri|)ture statements, but from the exigencies ol"

(•ontr(nersy. It was thrown up to meet the assaults

upon the triK' <li\iiiity of Christ j and, although cum-
48 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

broiis and involved, it saved Christianity. For, the

truth of the proper divinity of Christ is the marrow
of the sacred Scriptures. It is the only point at
which natural and revealed religion can be reconciled.
But if by another and better statement the divinity
of Christ can be exhibited in equal eminence and Avith
greater simplicity, and if such exhibition shall be found
in more obvious accord with the language of the New
Testament, and with what we now know of mental
philosophy, it will be wise, in constructing a life of
Christ, to leave the antiquated theory of the mediaeval
Church, and return to the simple and more philosophi-
cal views of the sacred Scriptures.
We must bear in mind that many questions which
have profoundly excited the curiosit}^ of thinkers, and
agitated the Church, had not even entered into the
conceptions of men when the writings
at the time
of the New Testament were framed. They are medi-
aeval or modern. The Romish doctrine of the Virgin
Mary could hardly have been understood even, by
the apostles. The speculations which have absorbed
the thoughts of men for ages are not only not
found in the sacred record, but would have been in-

congruous with whole spirit.

its The evangelists
never reason upon any question they simpl)' state ;

what they saw or heard. They never deduce in-

ferences and principles from facts. They frame their
narrations without any apparent consciousness of the
philosophical relations of the facts contained in them
to each other or to any system. It is probable that

the mj^stery of the Incarnation never entered their

minds as it exists in oui-s. It was to them a moral
ffict, and not a philosophical problem.
 THE DOCTRINAL BASIS. 49

How Jesus was Son of God, and yet Son of Man, is

nowhere spoken of in those simple records. The

evangelists and the apostles content themselves with
simply declaring that God came into the world in the
form of a man. " The Word was God." " And the
Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us." This is
all the explanation given by the disciple who was

most in sympathy with Jesus. Jesus was God and ;

he was made flesh. The simplest rendering of these

words would seem to be, that the Divine Spirit had
enveloped himself with the human body, and in that
condition been subject to the indispensable limitations
of material laws. Paul's statement is almost a direct
historical narrative of facts. ''
Let this mind be in
you which was who, being in the
also in Christ Jesus :

form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with

God but made himself of no reputation, and tool;: upon
;

him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness

of men ; and being found in fashion as a man, he hum-
bled himself and became obedient unto death, even
the death of the cross." (Phil. ii. 5-8.) This is

a simple statement that Jesus, a Divine Person,

brought his nature into the human body, and was
subject to all its laws and conditions. No one can
extract from this the notion of two intermixed souls
in one nature.
The same fonn of statement appears in Romans viii.

3 :
" Foi- wliat the law could not do, in that it was
weak tluougli the flesh, God, sending his own Son in

the likeness of sinful Jhsh, and for sin. coiHUMimrd sin in

the flesh." There is no hint here of joining a human

soul to the divine. lu not a single passage of the New
Testament is such an idea even suggested. The Ian-
50 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

guage which is used on this subject is such as could

not have been employed by one who had in his mind
the notion of two souls in coexistence.
As it is unsafe to depart from the obvious teaching
of the sacred Scriptures on a theme so far removed
from all human knowledge, we shall not, in this Life of
our Lord, render ourselves subject to the hopeless con-
fusions of the theories of the schools, but shall cling to
the simple and intelligible representations of the Word.
" Great is the mystery of godliness God tvas manifest
:

in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen of angels,

preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world,
received up into glory." (1 Tim. iii. 16.)
The Divine Spirit came into the world, in the person
of Jesus, not bearing the attributes of Deity in their
full disclosm-e and power. He came into the world
to subject his spirit to that whole discipline and expe-
rience through which every man must pass. He veiled
his royalty ; he folded back, as it were, within himself
those ineffiible powers which belonged to him as a free
spirit in heaven. He went into captivity to himself,
wrapping weakness and forgetfulness his divine en-
in
ergies, while he was a babe. " Being found in fashion
as a man," he was subject to that gradual unfolding of
his buried powers which belongs to infancy and child-
hood. "And the child grew, and waxed strong in
spirit." He was subject to the restrictions which hold
and hinder common men. He was to come back to
himself little by little. Who shall say that God can-
not put himself into finite conditions ? Though as a
free spirit God cannot grow, yet as fettered in the flesh
he may. Breaking out at times mth amazing power, in
single directions, yet at other times feeling the mist
 THE DOCTRINAL BASIS. 51

of humanity resting upon his eyes, he declares, '^

Of
that day and that hour knoweth no man, no, not the
angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, but the
Father." This is just the experience which we shoukl
expect in a being whose problem of life was, not
the disclosure of the full power and glory of God's
natural attributes, but the manifestation of the love
of God, and of the extremities of self-renunciation to
which the Divine heart would su])mit, in the rearing^
up from animalism and passion his family of children.
The incessant looking for the signs of divine power
and of infinite attributes, in the earthly life of Jesus,
whose mission it was to bring the Divine Spirit Avithin
the conditions of feeble humanity, is as if one shouhl
search a dethroned king, in exile, for his crown and his
sceptre. We are not to look for a glorified, an en-
throned Jesus, but for God manifest in the flesh; and
in this view the very limitations and seeming discrep-
ancies in a Divine life become congruous parts of the

whole sublime problem.

We are to remember that, whatever view of the
mystery be taken, there will l^e difficulties whicli no
ingenuity can solve. But we are to distinguish be-
tween (lifHculties which are inherent in the nature of
the Infinite, and those which are but the imperfections
of oui- own philosophy. In the one case, the per])k'x-
weakness of our reason in the otlicr, in
ity lies in the ;

the weakness of our reasoning. The former will always

be biU(hMisome enough, without a(Ming to it the ])i-es-

surc ol' that extraordinary theory of the Incaination,

which, without a single express 8eri])tui-al statement in

its su])j)ort, works out a compound divine nature, with-

out analogue or parallel in human mental }>hilos()phy.
 !

52 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Early theologians believed suffering to be inconsist-

ent with the Divine perfection. Impassivity was es-
sential to true divinity. With such ideas of the Divine
nature, how could they believe that Jesus, a man of
suffering, grief, was divine ?
and acquainted with A
human was
soultherefore conjoined to the divine, and
to that human element were ascribed all the phenom-
ena of weakness and suffering which they shrank from
imputing to the Deity. This disordered reverence was
corroborated by imperfect notions of what constitutes
a true manhooc]. If God became a true man, they

arsrued, he must have had a human soul. As if the

Divine nature clothed in flesh did not constitute the
most absolute manhood, and fill up the whole ideal
Man's nature and God's nature do not diflter in kind,
but in degree of the same attributes. Love in God
is love in man. Justice, mercy, benevolence, are not
different in nature, but only in degree of power and
excellence. "And God said, Let us make man in

our image, after our likeness." (Gen. i. 26.) "In

him we live, and move, and have our being
Forasmuch then as we are the offspring of God," etc.

(Acts xvii. 28, 29.)

This identification of the divine and the human na-
ture was one of the grand results of the Incarnation.
The beauty and preciousness of Christ's earthljj life
consist in its being a true divine life, a presentation
to us, in forms that we can comprehend, of the very
thoughts, feelings, and actions of God when placed in
our condition in this mortal life. To insert two na-
tures is to dissolve the charm.
Christ was very God. Yet, when clothed with a hu-
man body, and made subject through that body to
 THE DOCTRINAL BASIS. 53

physical laws, he was then a man, of the same moral

faculties as man, of the same mental nature, subject
to precisely the same trials and temptations, oiAy with-
out the weakness of sin. A human soul is not some-
thing other and different from the Divine soid. It is as
like it as the son is like his father. God is father, man
is son. As God in our place becomes human, — such
being the similarity of the essential natures, — so
man God becomes divine. Thus we learn not onh*
in
to what our manhood is coming, but when the Divine
Spirit takes our Avhole condition upon himself, we see
the thoughts, the feelings, and, if we may so say, the
private and domestic inclinations of God. What he
was on earth, in his sympathies, tastes, friendships,
generous famiharities, gentle condescensions, we shall
find him to be in heaven, only in a profusion and
amplitude of disclosure far beyond the earthly hints
and glimpses.
The tears of Christ were born of the Hesh, but
the tender sympathy which showed itself by those
precious tokens dwells unwasted and forever in
the nature of God. The gentleness, the compas-
sion, the patience, the loving habit, the truth and
equity, which were displayed in the daily life of
the Saviour, were not so many experiences of a hu-
man soul mated with the Divine. l)ut wei'c \\\v
proper expressions of the very Divine soul itsell', that
men might see, in God, a true and perfect manhood.
When Jesus, standing before his disci])les as a full

man, was asked to reveal (iod the Fatlier. lie an-

swered, "He that hath seen nie hath seen the Fathei'."
Manhood is nearer to godhood tiian we base been
wont to believe.
54 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

CHAPTER IV.

CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH.

The p«T.rents of Jesus returned to Nazareth, and there

for many years they and their child were to dwell.
There was nothing that we know of, to distinguish
this child from any other that ever was born. It passed
through the twilight of infoncy as helpless and depend-
ent as all other children must ever be. If we had
dwelt at Nazareth and daily seen the child Jesus, we
should have seen the cradle-life of other children. This
was no prodigy. He did not speak wonderful wisdom
in his infancy. He slept or waked upon his mother's
bosom, as all children do. He unfolded, first the per-
ceptive reason, afterwards the voluntary powers. He
was nourished and he grew under the same laws which
govern infjint life now. This then was not a divinity
coming through the clouds into human life, full-orbed,
triumphing with the undiminished strength of a
heavenly nature over those conditions which men must
bear. If thiswas a divine person, it was a divine
child, and childhood meant latent power, luideveloped
faculty, unripe organs ; a being without habits, without
character, without experience ; a cluster of germs, a
branch full of unblossomed buds, a mere seed of man-
hood. Except his mother s arms, there was no circle of
light about his head, fondly as artists have loved to paint
it. But for the after-record of Scriptures, we should
 " :

CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 55

have no reason to suppose that this child differed in any

respect from ordinary children. Yet this was the Son
of God This was that Word of whom John spake
!

" In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was

witli God, and the Word tvas God !

It was natural that Joseph and Mary should desire

to settle in Judsea. Not alone because here was the
home of their father David, but especially because,
when once they believed their son Jesus destined to ful-
fil the prophecies concerning the Messiah, they would
wish him to be educated near to Jerusalem. To them,
doubtless, the Temple and its priesthood were yet the
highest exponents of religion.
Divine Providence however removed hiui as I'ar

from the Temple and its influences as possible. Half-

heathen Galilee was better for his youth than Jeru-
salem.To Nazareth we must look for his early history.
But what can l)e gleaned there, when for twelve
years of childhood the only syllable of history uttered
is, "And waxed strong in spirit,
the child grew, and
filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was upon

him?"
Not a single fact is recorded of his appearance,
his ways; what his ])arents thought, what
infantine
his brothers and sisters thought of him tlie im- ;

pression made by him upon neiglibors whethiT he ;

went to scliool how early, il" Mt all. he put his hand to

;

work ; wliether he was lively and gay, or sad and

thoughtiul, or l)otli by turns; wliether he was medita-
tive and icIIikmI. stiiudiug apart IVoui others, or robust.

aud addicted to sports auioug his vouug associates:

no one knows, or can know, whatcvci- may be inl'eiTed

or suspected, lie emerges Ibr a moment into history

56 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

at twelve years of age, going with his parents to Jeru-

salem. That glimpse is the last which is given us for
the next sixteen or eighteen years.
But reo-ardino; a life over which men have hung; witli
an interest so absorbing, it is impossible to restrain the
imagination. There will always be a filling up of
the vacant spaces. If not clone by the pen, it will
none the less be done in some more fanciful way hy
free thoughts, which, incited both by curiosity and
devotion, will hover over the probabilities when
there is nothing better. Nor need this be mischiev-
ous. There are certain generic experiences which
must have befallen Jesus, because they belong to all
human life. He was a child. He was subject to
parental authority. He lived among citizens and un-
der the laws. He ate, drank, labored, was weary, re-
freshed himself by sleep. He mingled among men,
transacted affairs with them, and exchanged daily
salutations. He was pleased or displeased; he was
glad often and often sorrowful. He was subject to the
oscillations ofmood which belong to finely organized
persons. There must have been manifestations of filial
love. In looking upon men he was subject to emo-
tions of grief, pity, and indignation, or of sympathy
and approval. He was a child before he was a man.
He had those nameless graces which belong to all

ingenuous boys; and though he must have seemed

precocious, at least to his own household, there is

no evidence that he was thought remarkable by his

fellow-citizens. On the other hand, none were less
prepared to see him take a prominent part in pub-
lic affiiiis than the very people who had known him

from mfancy. "Whence hath this man this wisdom,

 !

CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 57

and these mighty works ? Is not this the carpenter's

son ? Is not his mother called Mary ? and his brethren,
James, and Joses, and Simon, and Judas ? and his sisters,
are they not all with us ? " — this is not the lanffuajre of
admiring neighbors, who had thought the boy a prod-
igy and had always predicted that he would become
remarkable ! This incident throws back a light upon
his childhood. If he went through the ordinary evolu-
tions of youth it is certain that the universal experi-
ences of that period must have befallen him. Nothing
could be more unnatiual than to suppose that he was
a child without a childhood, a full and perfect being
cleft from the Almighty, as Minerva was fal)led to have
come from the head of Jupiter ; who, though a Jew,
in Nazareth, probably following a carpenter's trade,
was yet but a celestial image, a white and slen-
der figure floating in a half-spiritual transfiguration
through the days of a glorified cluldhood. He was
"the Son of Man," —a real boy, as afterwards he was
a most maidy man. He know every step of growth ;

he underwent the babe's experience of knowing noth-

ing, the child's, of knowing a little, the universal neces-
sity of development
But there is a question of education, which lias been
much considered. Was the development of his nature
the result of Or was he, as other nu'U
iiitci'nal I'oi'ces ?

are wont to be, powerfully aflected by external eircuni-

stances? Was his imagination touched aud ein-ichcd
by the exquisite scenery about him'.' Did the historic
associations of all this (iaiilcau I'cgion around liiiu

develop a tenipci' of pati'iolisui '.'

Was his moral uatuic
educated by the rcpuNion of ignoble nu'U. — \>y tlu'

necessity of toil, — by the synagogue, — l)y his mother

 —

58 ^l^JJI'^^ TJFE or JESUS, THE CHRTST.

at home, — and by his hours of soUtary meditation, and

of holy commmiion with God ?
That Jesus was sensitive to every influence which
would shape an honorable nature, is not to be doubted.
But whether there was more than mere recipiency,
may well be questioned. Circumstances may have
been the occasions, but not the causes, of development
to a divine mind, obscured in a human body, and learn-
ing to regain its power and splendor by the steps which
in common men are called growth.
We shall make a brief discussion of the point a
means of setting before the mind the physical features
of Galilee, and the local influences which prevailed
there during our Lord's life.

If was desirable to bring up the child Jesus as far

it

as possible from the Temple influence, in Palestine and

yet not under excessive Jewish influence, no place could
have been chosen better than Nazareth. It was a
small village, obscure, and remote from Jerusalem. Its
very name had never occurred in the Old Testament
records. And though, after the fall of Jerusalem, Gal-
ilee was made the seat of Jewish schools of religion,
Sepharis, but a few miles north of Nazareth, being
the head-quarters, —
yet, at our Lord's birth, and dur-
ing his whole life, this region of Palestine was but
little affected by Jerusalem. The population was a
mixed one, made up of many different nationalities.
A debased remnant of the ten tribes, after their cap-
tivity had wandered back, with Jewish blood and
heathen manners. The Roman armies and Roman
rulers had brought into the ])r()vint'e a gi'eat many
foreigners. A large Gentile population had divided
with native Jews the towns and villages. Greeks
 CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 59

swarmed in the larger coiuniercial towns. Galilee was,

far more than Judaea, cosmopolitan. Commerce and
manufactures had thriven by the side of agriculture.
Josephus says that Galilee had more than two hun-
dred cities and villages, the smallest of which con-
tained not less than fifteen thousand inhabitants. This
seems an extravagant statement, but it will serve to
convey an idea of the great populousness of the prov-
ince in which the youth of Jesus was S23ent and in
which also his public life was chiefly passed. The in-
fluences which had changed the people had provincial-
ized their language. A Galilean was known hy his
speech, which seems to have been regarded as unre-
fined and vulgar.^
Among such a people was the Lord reared. If, as
is probable, he his father's business and
followed
worked among the common people, we may perceive
tliat his education, remote from the Temple, not only

saved him from the influence of the dead and corrupt

schools of Jerusalem, but brought him into sympa-
thetic relations with the most lowly in life. In all his
after ministry, apart from his divine insight, he could
of his own experience understand the feelings, tastes,
and needs of his audiences. The counnon people heard
''

liiiu gladly." He had sprung from among them. He

liad been reared in their |)Ui'suits and iial)its. For
thirty years hewas a man among men, a la))oriug man
among la})oring men. It is in this contact witli human
hfe on all its — with the
sides. ])ure ,Ie\v. with the
dew-eiiei-ale .lew. with the Greek, the IMi(eiiieian. the
iioiiian. the Syrian. — we are
th;it to look for the most
fruitful results of the Lord's youth and manhood in

'
Miirk xiv. 7i»; .Vet- ii. 7.
 ;

60 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Nazareth and the surrounding region. In this rich and

populous province the civiHzed world was epitomized.
Jesus had never travelled as did ancient philosophers
but he had probably come in contact more largely with
various human nature by staying at home, than they
had by going abroad.
The village of Nazareth had a bad reputation. This
is shown in the surprised question of Nathanael, who,
being a resident of Cana, in its immediate neighbor-
hood, undoubtedly reflected the popular estimate, " Can
any good thing come out of Nazareth ? " This ques-
tion incidentally shows, also, that our Lord's childhood
had not been one of portents and marvels, and had
not exhibited any such singular characteristics as to
create in the region about him such a reputation as
easily grows up among ignorant people aromid any
peculiarity in childhood. Something of the spirit
which had given Nazareth such bad repute shows
itself on the occasion of our Lord's first preaching

there, when, as the application of his discourse was

closer than they liked, the people offered him per-
sonal violence, showing them to be unrestrained, pas-
sionate, and bloodthirsty.
The town, or as it then was, the village, of Nazareth
was an exquisite gem in a noble setting. All writers
grow enthusiastic in the description of its beauty, —a
beauty which continues to this day. Stanley, in part
quoting Richardson, says :
" Fifteen gently rounded
hills seem as if they had met
form an enclosure for
to
this peaceful basin. They rise round it like the edge
of a shell, to g-uard it from intrusion. It is a rich and

beautiful field in the midst of these green hills, abound-

ing in gay flowers, in fig-trees, small gardens, hedges of
 CniLDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 61

the prickly pear; and the dense rice-grass affords an

abundant pasture." ^
The town was built not upon the summit, but upon
the sides, of a high hill. The basin runs from north-
east to southwest, and it is from its western slope that
the village of Nazareth looks forth.
It must needs be that, in his boyhood wanderings,
Jesus often ascended to the top of the hill, to look over
the wide scene which opened before the eye. It often

hiippens that the finest panoramas in mountain coun-

tries are not those seen from the highest points. The
peculiar conformations of the land frequently give to
comparatively low positions a view both wider jiud no-
Ijler than is obtained from a fourfold height. The
hill of Nazareth yielded a view not equalled in Pales-
tine, — surpassing that seen from the top of Tabor.
The on the side of one of the
village itself, built hills

which form the mile-long basin, was four hundred feet

below the summit, and was so much shut in by sur-
rounding heights that it had but little outlook. But
from the hill-top behind the village one looked forth
upon almost the whole of Galilee, — from Lebanon, and
from Ilennon, always white with snow, in the far noith
and noitlieast, down to the lake of Gennesarelli, with
Hattin, Tabor, Little Hennon, Gilboa, on the cast and
southeast; the hills of Samaria on the south; Caiinc]
and the Mediterranean Sea on the southwest and west.
Two miles south of the village of Nazareth stretched
clear across the breadth of (Jalilee the noblest plain
of Palestine, — Esdraelon, (which naiue is but a iiiodi-

ficatiou of the ohl word Jezreel), a meadow-like plain

with an undulatiui:: surface, or, as it would be called in

* Sinai arid Palestine^ j). 357.

02 Till-: LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

our Western phruse, a rolling prjiirie, three or four

miles wide at and about fifteen in length.
its widest,
These names recall some of the most romantic
and critical events of the old Jewish history. The
places were identified with the patriarchs, the judges,
the prophets, and the kings of Israel. Across the
great plain of Jezreel the tide of battle has not ceased
to fiow, age after age ; the Midianite, the Amalekite,
the Syrian, the Philistine, each in turn rushed through
this open gate among the hills, alternately conquering
and conquered. Its modern history has made good its

ancient experience. It has been the battle-field of

ages; and the threat of war so continually hangs
over it, that, while it is the richest and most fruitful
part of Palestine, there is not to-day an inhabited city
or village in its whole extent.
The beauty of all this region in the spring and
early summer gives rise to endless praise from travel-
lers. It may be doubted whether this scene does not
owe much to and whether, if it were
local contrast,
transported to England or to America, where moisture
is perpetual, and a kinder sun stimulates but seldom

scorches, it would maintain its reputation. But in one

respect, probably, it excels all foreign contrasts, and
that is, in the variety, succession, and brilliancy of its
flowers. The fields fairly glow with colors, which
change every month, and only in August disappear
from the plain and even then, retreating to the cool
;

ravines and edges of the mountains, they bloom on.

The region swarms with singing-birds of every plum-
age, besides countless flocks of birds for game.^

' Professor J. L. Porter, in Kitto's Biblical Encyclopaedia (Art. " Galilee")

says :
" Lower Galilee was a land of husbandmen, famed for its corn-fields, as
 CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 63

The whole of Galilee is to every modern traveller

made profoimdlj^ interesting by the life of Christ,
which was so largely spent in it. But no thoughtful
mind can help asking, What did it do to him ?
Of this the Gospels are silent. No record is made of
his youthful tastes, or of his manhood pursuits. We are
unwilling to believe that he never ascended the hill to

look out over the noble panorama, and still less are Ave
willing to believe that he beheld all that was there
without sensibility, or even with only an ordinary hu-
man sensitiveness to nature. We cannot doubt that
he beheld the scenes with a grander impulse than man
ever knew. He was in his own world. "All thiuiifs
were made by him ; and without him was not anything
made that was made." But whether this knowledge
existed during his childhood, or whether he came to
the full recognition of his prior relations to the world
gradually and only in the later years of his life, may
be surmised, but cannot be known.
It is certain that the general statements which have
recently been made, respecting the influence of Naza-
reth and its surroundings upon the unfolding of his
genius, are without either positive historic evidence

UppLT Galilee was for its olive groves and Jiulioa for its vineyards. Tlu' rich
soil remains, and there are still some fruitful fields; but its inhabitants are few
in number, and its ehoieest plains are desolated by the wild Bedouin. CJali-

Ire was and is also remarkable for the variety and beauty of its wild flowers.
In early sprin<>; the whole country is spangled with them, and the air is filled
with their odiirs. Birds, too, are exeeedingly numerous. Tlie rocky
liaiiks are all alive with ])artri Iges ; the meadows swarm with (piails and
larks; 'the voice of the tiirt'e' resounds thnjugli every grove; and pigeons
are heard cooing high up in the clifls and glen-sides, and are seen in flocks
hovering over the corn-fields. The writer has travelled through Galilee at
various seasons, anil has always been struck with some new beauty ; the deli-
cate verdure of spring, and its l)lush of (lowers, the mellow tints of autumn,
and the russet hues of the oak-forests in winter, have all their charms."
64 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

or any internal evidence to be found in his discourses^,

conversations, and parables.
The slightest study of our Lord's discourses will
show that he made almost no use of nature, as such,
in his thoughts and teachings. He had in his hands
the writings of the old prophets of his nation, and he
was familiar Avith their contents. In them he beheld
all the aspects of nature, whatever was sublime, and
whatever was beautiful, employed to enforce the lessons
of morality with a power and poetic beauty which had
then no parallel, and which have since had no rival.
But there would seem to have been in his own use of
language a striking avoidance of the style of the proph-
ets. In the employment of natural objects, no contrast
can be imagined greater than that between the records
of the Evangelists and the pages of Isaiah, Jeremiah,
Habakkuk, and the Psalmists. Our Lord never drew
illustrations from original and wild nature, but from na-
ture after it had felt the hand of man. Human occu-
pations furnish the staple of his parables and illustra-
tions. It was the city set upon athat our Lord
hill

selected, not the high. hill itself, or a mountain; vines

and fig-trees, but not the cedars of Lebanon, nor the
oaks. The plough, the yoke, the seed-sowing, the har-
vestrfield, flocks of sheep, bargains, coins, magistrates,
courts of justice, domestic scenes, — these are the pre-
ferred images in our Saviour's discourses. And yet he
had Ix'cn brought up in sight of the Mediterranean
Sea for thirty years, at a few steps from his home, he
;

might have looked on Mount Hermon, lifted up in soli-

tude a])ove the reach of siunmer; the history of his
people was identified with Tabor, with Mount Gilboa,
with Ebal and Gerizim, —
but he made no use of them.
 CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. G5

The very changes which war had wrought upon the

face of the country, — the destruction of forests, the
(hying up of springs of water, the breaking down of
terraces, the waste of soil, and the destruction of vine-
yards, — were striking analogies of the effects of the
passions upon human nature. Yet no allusion is made
to these things. There are in the Gospel narratives no
waves, clouds, stonns, lions, eagles, mountains, forests,

plains.^

The lilies and the sparrows and the reed shaken by

the wind are the only purely natural objects which he
uses. For water and light (with the one exception of
lightning) are employed in their relations of utility.
The illustration of the setting sun (Matt. xvi. 2) is
but the quotation of a common proverb. The Jordan
was the one great historic stream : it is not alluded
to. The cities that were once on the plain, Sodom
and Gomorrah, are held up in solemn warning; but
that most impressive moral symbol, the Dead Sea it-

'
Moses would show God's tender care of Israel, it was the eagle
AVlieii

that represented God. As an eagle stin-eth up her nest, Huttereth over

'.'

lier young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her
wings ; so theLord alone did lead him." (Deut. xxii. 11, 12.)
The profound care of our Lord was represented by him in the figure of
a l)ird, l)ut taken from husbandry. " How often would I have gathered thy
children together, even as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings,
and ye would not!"
The same contrast exists in the employment of illustrations drawn from
the floral kingdom. Had Ruskin been writing, instead of Solomon, he could
not have shown a rarer intimacy with flowers than is exhibited in Solo-
mon's Songs. " I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. As
the lily among thorns, so is my love among daughters. As the apple-tree
am<mg the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons." ''My be-
loved spake, and said unto me. Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come
away. For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; the flowers ap-
pear on the earth : tin- time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of
llie turtle [dove] is iuani in our land. The fig-tree putfeth forth lior green
 :

66 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

self, Christ did not mention. We must not allow our

thoughts to suppose that the Lord's soul did not see
or feel that natural beauty which he had himself cre-
ated and which he had through ages reproduced with
each year. The reasons w^hy his teaching should be
unadorned and simple are not hard to find. The
literary styles which are most universally attractive,

and which are least subject to the capricious change

of popular taste, are those which are rich in material,
but transparently simple in form. Much as men ad-

mire the grandeur of the prophets, they dwell on the

words of Christ with a more natural companionship
and far more enduring satisfaction.
Although it is not expressly said that Christ fol-
lowed his father's trade, yet Mark represents the dis-
affected people of Nazareth, on the occasion of an im-
popular sermon, as saying of Jesus, " Is not this the
carpenter?" (Mark vi. 3.)

We should not give to the term " carpenter " the close

and the vines with the tender grape give a goodly smell." In this
figs,

joyous sympathy with nature, the Song flows on like a brook fringed
with ineadow-flowers. "A garden enclosed is my sister, my spouse. . . .

Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; cam-

phire, with spikenard. Spikenard and saffron ; calamus and cinnamon,
with all trees of frankincense ; myrrh, and aloes, with all the chief spices
a fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon.
Awixke, O north wind ; and come, thou south, blow upon my garden, that
the spices thereof may flow out."
The single instance, in the Gospels, of is remarkably
an allusion to flowers
enough in reference to this very Solomon whose words have just quoted.
Ave
" Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow they toil not, neither do
;

they and yet 1

sjiin ; say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was
not arrayed like one of these."
The afllucnce and s))len(lor of illustrations, in the Old Testament, drawn
from the poetic side of nature, and in contrast with the lower tone and the
domesticity of New Testament figures, will be apparent upon the slightest
comparison.
 CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 67

technical meaning which it has in our day. All trades,

as society grows in civilization, become special, each
single department making itself into a trade. Carv-
ing, cabinet-making, joinery, carpentry, wooden -tool
making, domestic -ware -manufacturing, tinkering, are
each a sub-trade by itself But in our Lord's 'i^y, as it

is yet in Palestine, they were all included iii one busi-

ness. The carpenter was a universal worker in wood.
He built houses or fences, he made agricultural im-
plements or tools, such as spades, yokes, ploughs,
etc., or houseware, chairs, tables, tubs, etc. Carving
is a favorite part of the wood-worker's business in the
East to-day, and probably was so in ancient times.
Justin Martyr says that Jesus made yokes and ploughs,
and he spiritualizes them as symbols of obedience and
activity. Even had Christ been brought up to wealth
as he was to poverty, there would be no reason why
he should not have learned a mechanical trade. In this,

as in so many other respects, the Jewish people wcM-e

in prudence greatly in advance of the then civilized
world. It was not only deemed not disgraceful to learn
some manual trade, but a parent was not thought to
have done well by his child's education who had not
taught him" how to earn a living by his hands. But
in Jose})]i\s case, little other education, it is prol)Mble,

had he the means of giving his son. John records the

surprise of the scholars of the Temple upon occasion
of one of Christ's discourses: The Jews marvelled,
^'

saying, How knoweth this man letters, having never

Iciirned?" The term " letters " was used, as it still is,
to signify litcnitiirc. imd in this case i-cligious litera-

ture, as the .lews had no other. There is no evidence

in the Lord's diseoiiise that the occupations of iiis
68 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

youth had any special influence upon his thoughts or

imagination. He made no allusion to tools, he drew
no from the processes of construction, he
illustrations
said nothing which would suggest that he had wrought
with hannner or saw.
More attractive to the heart are the probable in-

fluences of home. It will always make home more

sacred to men, that the Lord Jesus was reared by a
mother, in the ordinary life of the household. For
children, too, there is a Saviour, who was in all things
made like unto them.
Sacred history makes everything of Mary, and noth-
ing of Joseph. It is taken for granted that it was
with his mother that Jesus held most intimate com-
munion. The adoration of the Virgin by the Romish
Church has doubtless contributed largely to this belief
There is nothing improbable in it. But it is pure sup-
position. There is not a trace of any facts to support
it. Though an ordinary child to others, that Jesus
was to his parents a child of wonder, can scarcely be
doubted. Such manifestations of his nature, as broke
forth at twelve years of age in the Temple scene,
must have shown themselves at other times in vari-
ous ways at home. Yet so entirely are our minds
absorbed in his later teachings, and so wholly is his
life summed up to us in the three years of his min-

istry, that we are not accustomed to recall and fill out

his youth as we do his riper years. Who imagines

the boy Jesus going or coming at command, leav-—
ing home, with his tools, for his daily work, —
lifting

timber, laying the line, scribing the pattern, fitting

and finishing the job, —
bargaining for work, demand-
ing and receiving his wages, —
conversing with fellow-
 CHILDHOOD AXD RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 69

workmen, and mingling in their innocent amusements ?

Yet must not all these things have been ? We must
carry along with us that interpreting sentence, which
like a refrain should come in with every strain :
" In

all things it behooved him to be made like unto his

brethren." (Heb. ii. 17.)
In the synagogue and at home he would become fa-

miliar with the Scriptures of the Old Testament. This

itself was no insignificant education.The institutes
of Moses were rich in political wisdom. They have
not yet expended their force. The commonwealth es-
tabhshed in the Desert has long ceased, but its seeds
have been sown in other continents and the spirit of
;

democracy which to-day is gaining ascendency in

every land has owed more to the Mosaic than to any
other political institution.
The Saviour's discourses show that his mind was
peculiarly adapted to read the Book of Pi-over])s with
keen relish. Under his eye the practical wisdom of
those curt sentences, the insight into men's motives
which they give, those shrewd lessons of experience,
must have had a larger interpretation than they were
wont to receive. If one has observed how the frigid
annals of history, when Shakespeare read them, blos-
somed out into wonderful dramas, he can partly im-
Mgine what Solomon's philosophy must have become
under the eye of Jesus.
He lived in the very sight of [)laces made uuMiior-
able by the deeds of liis country's greatest men. If lie
Silt, on still Sabbaths, upon the hill-top, — childlike, alter-
nately watching and musing, — he must at times luive
seen the shadowy ibrms and heard the awful tones of
those extraordinary nu-n, tlir Hebrew propliets. Theie
70 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

was. before hi:n Gilboa, on which Samuel's shadow earne

to Saul and overthrew him. Across these plains and
over these solitary mountains, Elijah, that grandest
and most dramatic of the old prophets, had often
come, and disappeared as soon, bearing the Lord's
messages, as the summer storm bears the lightning.
He could see the very spots where Elisha, proi^het of
the gentle heart, had wrought kind miracles.
The sword of David had flashed over these plains.
But it is David's harp that has conquered the world,
and his psalms must have been the channels through
which the soul of Jesus often found its way back
to hisHeavenly Father. Not even in his youth are
w^e to suppose that Jesus received unquestioning the
writings of the holy men of his nation. He had come
to inspire a loftier morality than belonged to the
twilight of the past. How early he came to himself,
and felt mthin him the motions of his Godhood, none
can tell. At twelve he overrode the interpretations
of the doctors, and, as one having authority, sat in
judgment upon the imperfect religion of his ancestors.
This Jerusalem stands up in his childhood
first visit to

as Mount Tabor rises from the plam, the one soli- —

tary point of definite record.
At twelve, the Jewish children were reckoned in the
congregation and made their appearance at the great
annual feasts. Roads were unknown. Along paths, on
foot, — the feeble carried upon mules, — the people made
their way by easy stages toward the beloved city. At
each step new-couiers fell into the ever-swelling stream.
Relatives met one another, friends renewed acquaint-
ance, and strangers soon lost strangeness in hospitable
company. Had it been an Anglo-Saxon pilgrimage, all
 : :

CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 71

Palestinewould scarcely have held the baggage-train

making a home everywhere,
of a race that, instead of
seek everywhere to carry their home with them. The
abstemious habits of the Orientals required but a
slender stock of provisions and no cumberino; bag-traffe.

They sang their sacred songs at morning and evening,

and on the way. Thus one might hear the last notes
of one chant dying in the valley as the first note of
another rose upon the hill, and song answered to song,
and echoed all along the pleasant way.
We can imagine group after group coming at even-
ing into the valley of Samaria, guarded by Gerizim —
and Ebal, —
beginning to feel the presence of those
mountain forms which continue all the way to Jeru-
salem, and chanting these words :
—
" I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,

From whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the Lord,
"Which made heaven and earth.
He will not suflf'er thy foot to be moved
He that keepeth thee will not slumber.
Behold, he that keejx'th Israel
Shall neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is thy keeper;
Tlie Lord is thy shade upon th}- right hand.
Tlie sun shall not smite thee by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The Lord shall preserve thee fioui all evil

He shall preserve thy soul.

'Die Lord shall preserve thy going out,

.•\iul thy coming in,

From this tiuu- fctrth.

Anil cvrn tiircvcrmore."

Refreshed l)y slcc]). bivaking up their siuijtlc (';iin|).

the mingled lliroiiu- ;il carlx uioi-iiliig stni't forili ;m;iin.

A voice is heard cIiaiitiiiL:- a ])<alni. It i-^ eauii-lil ii|) 1>V

 ! :

72 THE LIFE or JESUS, THE CHRISr.

others. The whole region resounds. And these are

the words :
—
" I was glad when they said unto me,
Let us go into the house of the Lord.
Our feet shall stand
AVithin thy gates, O Jerusalem
Jerusalem is builded
Asa city that is compact together
"Whither the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord,
Unto the testimony of L^rael,
To give thanks unto the wmw of tlu' Lord
For there are set thrones of judgiuent,

The thrones of the house of David.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem :

They shall jJrosper that love thee.

Peace be within thy walls,
And prosperity within thy palaces.
For my brethren and companions' sakes
I will now say, Peace be within thee,
Because of the house of the Lord our God
I will seek thy good."

The festival over, the mighty city and all its envi-
rons sent back the worshippers to their homes. It had
been a religious festival, but not the less an uncon-
strained social picnic. How freely they mingled with
each other, group with group, is shown in the fact that
Joseph and Mary had gone a day's journey on the road
home before they missed their child. This coidd not
have been, were it not cuptomary for the parties often
to break up and mingle in new comljinations. " But

they, supposing him to have been in the company, went

a day's journey." It is plain, then, that at twelve years
of age Jesus had outgrown the constant watch of his
parents' eyes, and had assumed a degree of manly lib-

erty.
They turned back. It was three days before they
found him. One day was required by the backward
 CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 73

journey. Two days they must have wandered in and

about the city, anxiously enough. In the last place
in which they dreamed of looking, they found him, —
"in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors,
both hearing them, and asking them questions."
Christ's questions were always like spears that pierced

the joints of the harness. It seems that even so

early he had begun to wield this weapon.
What part of these three days Jesus had spent at the
Temple, we are not told. But we may be sure that it
was a refreshing time in that dull circle of doctors. An
ingenuous youth, frank, and not hackneyed by the con-
ventional ways of the world, with a living soul and a
quick genius, is always a fascinating object, and per-
haps even more to men who have grown stiff in formal
ways than to others. There is something of youthful
feeling and of fatherhood yet left in souls that for
fifty years have discussed the microscopic atoms of
an imaginary philosophy. Besides, where there are
five doctors of philosophy there are not less than five
opposing schools, and in this case each learned man
must needs have enjoyed the palpable hits which his
compjinions received from the stripling. The people
who stood about would have a heart for the child :

what crowd would not ? And, if he held his

own against the doctors of law, all the more the
wonder grew. It is not necessary to suppose that

a spiritual chord vibrated at his touch in the hearts

of all this circle of experts in Temple dialectics.

Yet we would fondly imagine that one at least

there was —
some unnamed Nicodenuis, or another
Joseph of AriiHJitlicM — who felt the fire ])uru within

him as this child spake Kvcn in Sahara there are

 —
74 'J'lH-^ i'il-l'- ^>l' ./A'.S77.S, THE CHRIST.

found green spots, shaded Avith palms, watered and

liuitl'ul. There might have been sweetrhearted men
among the Jewish doctors!
Upon this strange school, in which the pupil was the
teacher and the teachers were puzzled scholars, came
at length, her serene face now flushed with alarm,
the " mother of Jesus. She, all mother, with love's
reproach said, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with
us ?" and he, all inspired with fast-coming thoughts,
answered, "Wist ye not that I must be about my
"
Father's business ?

Not yet This ministry of youth was not whole-

!

some. Premature prodigies have never done God's

work on earth. It would have pleased the appetite
for wonder, had his childhood continued to emit such
flashes as came forth in the Temple. But such is not
the order of nature, and the Son of God had con-
sented to be " made under the law " It is plain, from !

his reply to his mother, that he was conscious of the

nature that was in him, and that strong impulses urged
him to disclose his power. It is therefore very signifi-
cant, and not the least of the signs of divinity, that he
ruled his spirit, and dwelt at home in unmurmuring
expectation. " He went down with them, and came to

Nazareth, and was subject unto them." (Luke ii. 51.)

This might well be said to be to his childhood what the
temptations m the wilderness were to his ministry.
The modesty, the filial piety, the perfectness of self-
control, contentment in mechanical labor, conscious sov-
ereignty undisclosed, a wealth of nature kept back,
in short, the holding of his whole being in tranquil si-
lence, waiting for growth
produce his ripe self, and
to
for God, his Father, to shake out the seed which was
 CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 75

to become the bread of the world, —

all this is in itself

a wonder of divinity, if men were only wise enough

to marvel. Christ's "-reatest miracles were wrought
withm liimself.

In a review of the childhood of Jesus, there are

several points which deserve special attention.
While it is true that, by incarnation, the Son
1.

of God became subject to all human conditions, and,

among them, to the law of gradual development, by
which "he increased in wisdom and stature," for "the —
child grew, and waxed strong in spirit," we must —
not fall into the error of supposing that Jesus was
moulded by the circumstances in which he was placed.
Not his mother, nor the scenery, nor the national as-
sociations, nor the occupations of his thirty years,
fashioned Only natures of a lower kind are
him.
shaped by circumstances. Great natures imfold by
the force of that which is within them. When food
nourishes, it receives the power to do so by that which
the vital power of the body gives it. Food does not
give life, Init by assimilation receives it. Christ was
not the creation of his age. We may trace occasions
and external influences of wliich he availed himself,
but his original nature contained in its germ all that
he was to be, and needed only a normal unfolding.
The absolute independence from all external forma-
and the sovereignty of the essential self.
tive influence,
was never so sublimely asserted as when Jehovah
declared, "I am that am." l>iit, without extrava-
I

gance or inuiiodesty, the mot lior of Jesus might have

written this divine legend u|)on Ids cradle.
2. We have said nothinu- of the brothers and sisters
 ;
;

76 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

of our Lord. They are not only mentioned, but the

names of his brothers are given, and allusions are
made to them in several instances.^ Yet the matter
does not prove upon examination to be as simple as at
first sight it seems.
Undoubtedly, it suited the peculiar ideas which were
early developed in the Church, to consider Jesus not
only the first-born, but the only, child of Mary. But
there are real and intrinsic difficulties in the case.
The term brethren was often used in the general sense
of relative. To this day authorities of the highest
repute are divided and in about equal
in opinion,
proportions on each side. There are several suppo-
sitions concerning these brothers and sisters They :

were the children of Joseph by a former marriage

or, they were adopted from a deceased brother's
family or, they were the children of a sister of the
;

mother of Jesus, and so cousins-german to him

or, they were the children of Joseph and Mary,
and so the real brothers of Jesus. We shall not
enter upon the argument.^ The chief point of in-
terest is not in doubt namely, that our Lord was not
:

brought up alone in a household as an only child ;

that he was a child among children that he was sur- ;

rounded by those who were to him, either really his

own brothers and sisters, or just the same in senti-
ment. He had this ordinary experience of childhood.
The unconscious babe in the cradle has a Saviour
who once was as sweetly helpless as it is. The prat-
*
INLitthew xii. 46-50; xiii. 55, 56. Mark iii. 31 ; vi. 3. Luke viii. 19.

John ii. 12; vii. 3. Acts i. 14.

* Those who desire to investigate the matter may see Andrews's very

clear and judicial estimate of the case (^Life of our Lord, pp. 104-116);
also, Lange, Life of (t'hrlsl, Vol. I. pp. 421-437.
 "

cm Lb HOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. "J "J

tling child is passing along that path over which

the infant footprints of Jesus were marked. The
later friendships of brothers and sisters derive a
sacred influence from the love which Jesus bore to his
while growing up with them.
sisters There is thus
an example for the household, and a gospel for the
nursery, in the life of Jesus, as well as an " ensample
in his manhood for the riper years of men.
3. While we do not mean to raise and discuss, in
this work, the many difficulties which are peculiar to
critics, is one connected with this period of our
there
Lord's which we shall mention, for the sake of
life

lajnng down certain principles which should guide, us

in reading the Sacred Scriptures.
Matthew declares that " he came and dwelt in a city
it might be fulfilled which was
called Nazareth: that
spoken by the prophets. He shall be called a Naz-
arene." No such line has ever been found in the
])rophets.
Infinite ingenuity of learning has been brought to
bear upon this difficulty, without in the slightest de-
gree solving term " " is
it. It is said that the Nazareth
dei-i\ed from nef.irr, a sprout, as the region around
Nazareth is covered with bushes; and by coujjling
tills with Isaiah xi. 1, where the Messiah is predict-
ed iiiidci- the naiiu' of a Branch, the connection is
establisbed. That Matthew, tlie most literal and
unimaginative of all the Evangelists, should liaxc lu--

taken liinisell" to such a subtle trick of laimuatre.

would not sui'prise us had he li\ed in Kngland
in Sh;ikesj)eare's time. l)Ut as he wiote to .lews
who did not belie\c' thai <'hrisl w.is the .Messiaii, we
should, by adopting this |il;i\ on words, only change
78 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the verbal difficulty into a psychological one still

more vexations.
Others have supposed that Matthew referred to
some apocryphal book, or to some prophecy now
lost. This is worse than ingenious. It is perverse.
The Old Testament canon was, and had long been,
complete when Matthew wrote. What evidence is
there that anything had ever been dropped from it,

— or that any apocryphal book had ever existed, con-

taining this sentence ? Is our faith in the inspired
record helped or hindered by the introduction of such
groundless fancies ? The difficulty of the text is not
half so dangerous as is such a liberty taken in explain-
ing it. Others of this ingenious band of scholars
derive the name Nazarene from mtser, that which
guards. it is from netser, to separate,
Others think that
as if the Messiah were to be a NazanVe, which he was
not nor was it anywhere in the Old Testament pre-
;

dicted that he should be. Lange supposes that, already

when Matthew wrote, Nazarene had become a term of
such universal reproach, as to be equivalent to the
general representations of the prophets that the Mes-
siah should be despised and rejected, and that it might
even be interchangeable with them. The whole ground
of this explanation is an assumption. That Nazarene
was a term of reproach, is very likely, but that it had
become a generic epithet for humiliation, rejection,
scorn, persecution, and all maltreatment, is nowhere
evident, and not at all probable.
But what would happen if it should be -said that
Matthew recorded the current impression of his time
in attributing this declaration to the Old Testament
prophets ? Would a mere error of reference invali-
 CHILDHOOD AND RESIDENCE AT NAZARETH. 79

date the trustworthiness of the Evangehst? We lean

our whole weight upon men who are fallible. Must
a record be totally infallible before it can be trusted
at all ? Navigators trust ship, cargo, and the lives of
allon board, to calculations based on tables of loga-
rithms,knowing that there was never a set computed,
without machinery, that had not some errors in it.
The supposition, that to admit that there are imma-
terial and incidental mistakes in the Sacred Writ

would break the confidence of men in it, is contra-

dicted by the uniform experience of life, and by the
whole procedure of society.
On the contrary, the shifts and ingenuities to which
critics are obliged to resort either blunts the sense of
truth, or disgusts men with the special pleading of crit-

ics, and tends powerfully to general unbelief

The theory of Inspiration must be founded upon the
claims which the Scriptures themselves make. " All

Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profita-

ble for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruc-
tion in righteousness; that the man of God may ])e

perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works."

(2 Tim. iii. 16, 17.)
Under this declaration, no more can be claiuied for
the doctrine of Inspiration than that there shall have
been such ;iu iiilliience exerted upon the formation of
the record that it shall be the truth respecting God, and
no falsity ; that it shall so ex])Ound the duty of ui.ni

under (fod's moral government, as to secure, in all who

will, a true lioliiu'ss; that it shall contain no errors
which can afiect the essential truths taught, oi- which
shall cloud the icason or sully the moral sense.
But it is not right or })ru(lent to infer, frcMu the
80 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Biblical statement of inspiration, that it makes pro-

vision for the very words and sentences that it shall ;

raise the inspired penmen above the possibility of lit-

erary inaccuracy, or minor and immaterial mistakes.
It is enough if the Bible be a sure and sufficient guide
to spiritual morality and to rational piety. To erect for
it a claim to absolute literary infallibility, or to infalli-

bility in things not directly pertaining to faith, is to

weaken its real authority, and to turn it aside from its
avowed purpose. The theory of verbal inspiration
brings a strain upon the Word of God which it cannot
bear. If rigorously pressed, it tends powerfully to
bigotry on the one side and to infidelity on the other.
The inspiration of holy men is to be construed as
we do the doctrine of an overruling and special Provi-
dence ; of the- divine supervision and guidance of the
Church ; of the faithfulness of God in answering
prayer. The truth of these doctrines is not inconsis-
tent with the existence of a thousand evils, mischiefs,
and mistakes, and with the occurrence of wanderings
long and almost fatal. Yet, the general supervision
of a Divine Providence is rational. We might expect
that there would be an analogy between God's care
and education of the race, and His care of the Bible
in its formation.
Around the central certainty of saving truth are
WTapped the swaddling-clothes of human language.
Neither the condition of the human understanding, nor
the nature of human speech, which is the vehicle of
thought, admits of more than a fragmentary and par-
tial presentation of truth. " For we know in pmi, and
we ])rophesy in parf." (1 Cor. xiii. 9.) Still less are we
then to expect that there will be perfection in this
 CHILDHOOD AND RESIDEXCE AT XAZATiEril. gl

vehicle. And incidental errors, which do not reach the

substance of truth and duty, which touch only contin-
gent and external elements, are not to be regarded as
inconsistent with the ftxct that the Scriptures were in-
spired of God. Nor will our reverence for the Scrip-
tures be impaired if, in such cases, it be frankly said.

Here is an insoluble difficulty. Such a course is for

less dangerous to the moral sense than that pernicious
ingenuity which, assuming that there can be no literal
errors in Scripture, resorts to subtle arts of criticism,
improbabilities of statement, and violence of construc-
tion, such as, if made use of in the intercourse of
men in daily woidd break up society and destroy
life,

all faith of man in man.

We dwell at length upon this topic now, that we

may not be obliged to recur to it when, as will be the
case, other instances arise in which there is no solution
of unimportant, though real, literary difficulties.
There are a multitude of minute and, on the whole,
as respects the substance of truth, not important ques-
tions and topics, which, like a fastened door, refuse to
})e opened by any key which learning has brought to
them. It is better to let them stand closed than, like
impatient mastiffs, after long barking in vain, to lie

whining at the door, unable to enter and unwilling to

go away.
 ;

82 THE LIFE OF JESUS, TUE CHRIST.

CHAPTER V.

THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS.

, The long silence is ended. The seclusion is over,

with allwondrous inward experience, of which no
its

record has been made, and which must therefore be

left to a reverent imagination. Jesus has now reached
the age which custom has established among his peo-
ple for the entrance of a priest upon his public duty.

But, first, another voice is to be heard. Before the

ministry of Love begins, there is to be one more great
prophet of the Law, who, with stern and severe fidel-

ity, shall stir the conscience, and, as it were, open the

furrows in which the seeds of the new life are to be
sown.
Every nation has its men of genius. The direction
which their genius takes will be determined largely by
the peculiar education which arises from the position
and history of the nation but it will also depend upon
;

the innate tendencies of the race-stock.

The original tribal organizations of Israel were
moulded by the laws and institutions of Moses into a
commonwealth of peculiar characteristics. Each tribe
scrupulously preserved its autonomy, and in its own
province had a' local independence while the whole ;

were grouped and confederated around the Tabernacle,

and afterwards about its outgrowth, the Temple. On
the one side, the nation approximated to a democracy
 —

THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 83

on the other, to a monarchy. But the throne, inde-

pendent of the people, was not independent of an aris-
tocracy. The priestly class combined in itself, as in
Egypt, the and sacerdotal functions. The Hebrew
civil

government was a theocratic democracy. A fierce and

turbulent people had great power over the govern-
ment. The ruling class was, as in Egypt it had Ijeen,
the priestly class. The laws wdiich regulated personal
rights, property, industry, marriage, revenue, military
affairs, and religious worship were all ecclesiastical,

were interpreted and administered by the hierarchy.

The doctrine of a future existence had no j^lace in the
Mosaic economy, either as a dogma or as a moral influ-
ence. The sphere of religion was wholly within the
secular horizon. There was no distinction, as with us,
of things civil and things moral. All moral duties
were civil, and all civil were moral duties. Priest
and magistrate were one. Patriotism and piety were
identical. The military organization of the Jews was
Levitical. The wore the sword, took part in
priest
planning campaigns, and led the people in battle.^ The
Levitical body was a kind of niitional university. Lit-

erature, learning, and the fine arts, in so far as they

had existence, were preserved, nourished, and diffused
by the priestly order.
Under sucli circumstances, genius must needs be re-
ligious. It must develop itself in analogy with the

history and institutions of the ])eople. The Ilchiew

man of genius was the ])r()phet. Tlie stiict priest
was narrow and bai icn llie prophet was a son ol
;

liberty, a child ol" iiisi)iration. All other men toiiclu'd

'
For some iiistnictivc ami iiitcn-stiiif; remarks on this topii", 5""0 A. V.

Stnnley, Jewish Clniiili, § 2. p. I IS.

84 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the ground. He only had wings ; he was orator, poet,

singer, civiHan, statesman. Of no close profession,
he performed the functions of all, as by turns, in the
great personal freedom of his career, he needed their
elements.
That temperament which now underlies genius was
also the root of the prophetic nature. In ordinary
men, the mind-system is organized with only that
degree of sensibility which enables it to act under
the stimulus of external influences. The ideal perfect
man is one who, in addition, has such fineness and
sensibility as to originate conceptions from interior
cerebral stimulus. He acts without waiting for ex-
ternal solicitation. The particular mode of this auto-
matic action varies with different persons. With all,

however, it has this in common, that the mind does not

creep step by step toward knowledge, gaining it by lit^

tie and little. knowledge came upon

It is rather as if

the soul by a sudden flash or as if the mind itself

;

had an illuminating power, by which suddenly and in-

stantly it poured forth light upon external things. This
was early called inspiration, as if the gods had breathed
into the soul something of their omniscience. It is still
called inspiration.
If the intellect alone has this power of exaltation
and creativeness, we shall behold genius in literature
or science. But if there be added an eminent moral
sense and comprehensive moral sentiments, we shall
have, in peaceful times, men wlio will carry ideas
of right, of justice, of mercy, far beyond the bounds at
which they found them, — moral teachers, judges, and
creative moralists and ; in times of storm, reformers
and martyrs.
 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 85

This constitution of genius is not something abnor-

mal. Complete development of all the body and all

the mind, with a susceptibility to automatic activity, is

ripe and proper manhood. To this the whole race is

perhaps approximating, and, in the perfect day, will

attain.
But in a race rising slowly out of animal condition,
in possession of unripe faculties, left almost to chance

lor education, there sometimes come these higher na-

tures, men of genius, who are not to be deemed crea-
tures of another nature, lifted' a])Ove their fellows for
their own advantage and enjoyment. They are only
elder brethren of the race. They are appointed lead-
ers, going before their child-brethren, to inspire them

with higher ideas of life, and to show them the way.

By their nature and position they are forerunners, seers,
and foreseers.
Such men, among the old Jews, became prophets.
But a prophet was more than one who foretold events.
He forefelt and foretaught high moral truths. He had
escaped the tlirall of passion in which other men lived,
and, without help inherited from old civilizations, by
the force of the Divine Spirit acting upon a nature
of genius in moral directions, he went ahead of his na-
tion and of his age, denouncing evil, revealing justice,
enjoining social ])urity. and ius])ii'ing a nohle picly.
A ])i()phet was born to his oUice. Whorxcr found in

himself the U])rising soul, the sensil)ilil\ to divine

truth, the impulse to proclaim it, might, if he i)leased,

bi' a pioplicl. in the ix'culiar sense of deelai ing the

truth and enrorcing moial ideas, 'i'lie call ol" (iod. in

all ages, has come to natmes ;ili'ea(ly |)r(']iai'ed for the

oni(a' to which tlie\ were called. Here was a call

86 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHlilST.

in birth-structure. This was well understood by the

prophets. Jeremiah explicitly declares that he was
created to the prophetic office "The word of the Lord
:

came unto me, saying, Before I formed thee in the

belly I knew thee and before thou camest forth out
;

of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee

a prophet unto the nations." (Jer. i. 4, 5.) When God
calls men, he calls thoroughly and begins early.

The prophets, although wielding great influence,

seem not to have been inducted into office by any
ecclesiastical authority. There was no provision, at
least in early times, for their continuance and succes-
sion in the community. There was no regular suc-
cession. Occasionally they shot up from the people,
by the impulse of their own natures, divinely moved.
They were confined to no grade or class. They might
be priests or commoners they might come of any tribe.
;

In two instances eminent prophets were women and ;

one of them, Huldah, was of such repute that to her,

though Jeremiah was then alive and in full authority,
King Josiah sent for advice in impending public dan-
ger. (2 Kings xxii. 14 - 20.)
It was from the free spirit of the prophet in the
old Jewish nation, and not from the priesthood, that
religious ideas grew, and enlarged interpretations of
religion proceeded. The priest indeed had a very
limited sphere. The nature of the Temple service re-
quired him to be but little conversant with the living
souls of men, and as little with ideas. In preparing
the sacrifices of oxen, of sheep, of birds, the Temple or
Tabernacle could have appeared to the modern eye but
little less repulsive than a huge abnffoir. The priests,
with axe and knife, slaughtering herds of animals,
 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 87

needed to be, and certainly in the early days were,

men of nerve and muscle, rather than men of rich
emotion or of strong religious feeling/ The subordi-
nate priests had as little occasion for moral feeling, in
the performance of their ordinary duties, as laborers
in the shambles. The higher officers were neither
teachers nor preachers. In scarcely a single point,
from the high-priest downward, do the members of
the Jewish hierarchy resemble the Christian minister.
It is true that the Levites were appointed to instruct
the people in the Law ; but this instruction consisted
merely in an occasional public reading of the Levitical
Scriptures. Until after the captivity, and do\\Ti to a
comparatively late period in Jewish history, this func-
tion was irregidarly performed, and with but little
effect. If there had been no other source of moral
influence than the priesthood, the people might almost
as well have been left to themselves.
The prophetic impulse had been felt long before the
Levitical institutes were framed. Now and then, at
wide intervals, men of genius had arisen, who carried
forward the moral sentiment of their age. They en-
larged the bounds of truth, and deepened in the con-
sciences of men moral and religious obligations. It is

only through the imagination that rude natures can be

spiritually influenced. These men were often great
'
Wlifii Solniiion liroii^rlit up tlic ;irk and tlic sacrcil vessel to the new
Tein|tlf, it is saiil that he saciiliciMl shi'op and oxen " tliat coiihl not he told
nor niiinhcri'd for nnillitiuh'," and, at tin- close of the dedicatory servieea,
" Solomon olTeri^d a sai-rifiet- of pea<'e-oir<'rin;is, which he olfered unto the
Lord, two and twenty thousand oxen, and an hundre<l and twenty ihousaml
sheep. So the kin<j and all the ehildren of Israel dedicated the house of
the Lord." (1 Kinfjs viii. ."J, 6.'J.) This nnist have heen the climax. Siieh

fjifl*"*"" slanjrhters eouM not have l)ecn cnminon. Rut the rej^ular .suorifieos

involved tiif necessity of kiilin;^ vast numlicrs of animals.

88 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

moral dramatists. They kept themselves aloof. Some

of them dwelt in solitary places, and came upon the
people at unexpected moments. The prophets were
intensely patriotic. They were the defenders of the
common people against oppressive rulers, and thej^
stirred them up to throw off foreign rule. Wild and
weird as they often were, awful in their severity, car-
rying justice at times to the most bloody and terrific
sacrifices, they were notwithstanding essentially hu-

mane, sympathetic, and good. The old prophets were

the men in whom, in a desolate age, and in almost
savage conditions of society, the gentler graces of the
soul took refuge. We
must not be deceived by their
rugged nor by the battle which they made for
exterior,
the right. Humanity has its severities and even love,
;

striving for the crown, must fight. Like all men who
reform a corrupt age, the rude violence of the prophets
was exerted against the animal that is in man, for the
sake of his spiritual nature.
Had there been but the influence of the Temple or
of the Tabernacle to repress and limit the outflow of
those passions which make themselves channels in
every society of men, they would have swept like a
flood, and destroyed the foundations of civil life. It
was the prophet who kept alive the moral sense of the
people. He taught no subtilties. It was too early,
and this was not the nation, for such philosophy as
sprung up in Greece. The prophet seized those great
moral truths which inhere in the very soul of man, and
which natural and revealed religion hold in common.
Their own feelings were roused by mysterious contact
with the forces of the .invisible world. They con-
fronted alike the court and the nation with audacious
 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 89

fidelity. Often themselves of the sacerdotal order, and

exercising the sacrificial functions of the priest (as in
the instance of Samuel), yet wlien, in later times, true
spirituality had been overlaid and destroyed by ritu-
alism, they turned against the priest, the ritual, and the
Temple. They trod luider foot the artificial sanctity
of religious usages, and vindicated the authority of
morality, humanity, and simple pei'sonal piety against
the superstitions and the exactions of I'cligious institu-
tions and their officials.
sacrifices as to seem
Jeremiah speaks so slightingly of
to deny their divine origin. He represents God as say-
ing " For I spake not unto your fathers, nor com-
:

manded them in the day that I brought them out of

the land of Egypt, concerning burnt-offerings or sacri-
fices. But this thing commanded I them, saying. Obey
my voice, and I will be your God, and ye shall be iny
people." (Jer. vii. 22, 23.)
Isaiah even bolder
is " To what purpose is the
:

multitude of your sacrifices unto me ? Your new . . . .

moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth

Your hands are full of blood. Wash you, make you
clean Seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge
the fatherless, plead for the widow." (Isa. i. 11 - 17.)

Amos, in impetuous wrath, cries out: "I hate, I de-

spise your feast-days, and I will not smell in your
soleiun assemblies Take thou away from me tlic
noise of thy songs But let judguient run down
as waters, Jiud righteousness as a mighty stjvam."
(Amos v. 21-24.)
Considering the liouor in wliieh he was lield, and the
infhieuce nllowed liim. \\\v old ])rophet was the freest-
speaking man on reioni. Not the king, nor his coun-
90 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

sellers, nor priests, nor the people, nor prophets them-

had any terror for him. When the solemn in-
selves,
fluence coming from the great invisible world set in
upon his soul, his whole nature moved to it, as the
tides move to celestial power.
But the prophet did not live always, nor even often,
in these sublime elevations of feeling. The popular
notion that, wrapt in moods of grandeur, he was al-
ways looking and drawing forth secrets
into the future,
from its mysterious depths, — a weird
fisher upon the
shores of the infinite, —
is the very reverse of truth.

Revelatory inspirations were occasional and rare.

They seldom came except in some imminent catastro-
phe of the nation, or upon some high-handed aggres-
sion of idolatry or of regal immorality. The prophet
labored with his hands, or was a teacher. At certain
periods, it would seem were placed the
as if in his care
music, the poetry, the oratory, and even the jurispru-
dence of the nation. The phrase "to prophesy" at
first signified an uncontrollable utterance under an

overruling possession, or inspiration. It was an irre-

sistible rhapsody, frequently so like that of the insane,
that in early times, and among some nations even
yet, the insane were looked upon mth some awe, as
persons overcharged with the prophetic spirit. But
in time the term assumed the meaning of moral dis-
course, vehement preaching and finally it included
;

simple moral teaching. In the later periods of Jewish

history, the term " to prophesy " was understood in
much the same sense as our phrases " to instruct," " to
indoctrinate." Paul says, " He that prophesieth speak-
eth unto men to edification, and exhortation, and com-
fort." (1 Cor. xiv. 3.) The criticisms and commands
 ;

THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 91

of the Apostle respecting prophecy show clearly that

in his day it was in the nature of sudden, impulsive,
impassioned discourse, — that it was, in short, sacred
oratory.
The absolute spontaneity of the old prophet, in con-
trast with the perfunctory priest, is admirable. Out
of a ritual service rigid as a rock is seen gushing a
liberty of utterance that reminds one of the rock in
the wilderness when smitten with the prophet's rod.
Although the prophets were the religious men, far more
revered for sanctity than the priests, itwas not because
they held aloof from secular affairs. They were often
men of rigor, but never ascetics. They never despised
common humanity, either in its moral or in its secular
relations.
The prophet was sometimes the chief justice of the
nation, as Samuel ; or a councillor at court, as Nathan
or a retired statesman, consulted by the rulers, as
Elisha ; or an iron reformer, as Elijah ; or the censor
and theologian, as Isaiah, who, like Dante, clothed phi-
losophy with the garb of poetry, that might have it

power to search and But whatever

to purify society.
else he was, the prophet was the great exemplar of
personal freedom. He represented absolute personal
liberty in religious thought. He often opposed the
government, l)ut in favor of tlie state ; he iuveighed
against the church, but on behalf of religion ; he de-
nounced the people, but always for their own highest
good.
Tt must 1)0 through sonic siicli ;i\cnii(' of thouglit
that one approaches the last great pr()[)het of the Jew-
ish nation. The morning star of a new era, John is
speedily lost in the blaze of Ilini who was and is the
 "

92 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

" Light of the world." His history seems short. The

child of prophecy, — the youth secluded in the soli-
tudes, — the voice the wilderness, — the crowds on
in
the Jordan, — the grasp of persecution, — the death in
prison, — the outline of
this is But the his story. in
filling what substance of manhood must have been
up,
there, what genuine power, what moral richness in
thought and feeling, what chivalric magnanimity, to
have drawn from Jesus the eulogy, " Among those that
are born of women there is not a greater prophet than
John the Baptist " But his was one of those lives
!

which are lost to themselves that they may spring up

in others. He came both in grandeur and in beauty,
like a summer storm, Avhich, falling in rain, is lost in

the and reappears neither as vapor nor cloud, but

soil,

transfused into flowers and fruits.

One particular prophet was singled out by our Lord
as John's prototype, and that one by far the most dra-
matic of all the venerable brotherhood. " If ye will
receive it, this is Elias, which was for to come
(Matt. xi. 14), — Elijah, called in the Septuagint ver-
sion Elias. Malachi, whose words close the canon of
the Jewish Scriptures, had declared, "Behold, I will
send you Elijah the prophet, before the coming of
the great and dreadful day of the Lord."There was,
therefore, a universal expectation Jews that among the
the Messiah should be preceded by Elijah.' It was

* Stanley says of this prophet: — " He stood alone against Jezebel. He

stands alone in many senses among the proj)hi'ts. Nursed in the bosom of
Israel, the prophetical p(jrtion, if one may so say, of the chosen people, vin-
dicating the true religion from the nearest danger of overthrow, setting at
defiance by invisible power the whole forces of the Israelite kingdom, he
reached a height Moses and Samuel in the traditions of his
ecjual to that of

country.
" He was the prophet lor whosi- retinii in later years his countrymen have
 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 93

an expectation not confined to the Jews, but shared

by the outlying tribes and nations around Palestine.
There is no real interior resemblance between John
and Elijah. Their times were not alike. There are
not elsewhere in recorded history such dramatic ele-

ments as in the career of Elijah. Irregular, almost

fitful, seemed at times clean gone
Elijah the Tishbite
forever, dried up like a summer's brook. Then sud-
denly, like that stream after a storm on the hills, he
came down with a flood. His sudden appearances
and as sudden vanishings were perfectly natural to one
who had been reared, as he liad been, among a nomadic
people, not unlike the Bedouin Arabs. But to us they
seem more like the mystery of spiritual apparitions.
When the whole kingdom and the regions round about
were searched for him in vain by the inquisitorial
Jezebel, then, without warning, he appeared before the
court,overawed its power, and carried away the peo-
ple by an irresistible fascination. Almost alone, and
mourning over his solitariness, he buffeted the idola-
trous government for long and weary years of discour-
agement. His end was as wonderful as his career.
Caught up in a mighty tempest, he disappeared from

looked with most eajjjer hope. The last prophet of the old dispensation
clung to this consolation in the decline of the state.
" In the ffospcl history we find this expectation constantly excited in each
successive api)earance of a new prophet. It was a fixed belief oi' the Jews
that he had appeared again and again, as an Arabian merchant, to wise
and good rabbis at their prayers or on their journeys. A si'at is still placed
for him to superint«'nd the circumcision of the Jewish children.
" Passover afler Passover, the Jews of oin- own day |)lace the paschal
cnj)on the tabic ami set the door wide open, believing that this is the mo-
ment when Elijah will reappear.
" When goods are found and no owner come.-i, when didicuitie."! ari.sc and

no solution appears, the answer is, Put them by till Elijah comes.' "
' Stan- —
ley, Ilistori/ of (he Jewish Churchl Part fl. j). 291).
94 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CIIIllST.

the earth, to be seen no more, until, in the exquisite

vision of the Transfiguration, his heavenly spirit IjIos-

somed into light, and hung above the glowing Saviour

and the terrified disciples.
" This is which was for
Elias, to come." John
from his childhood had been reared
in the rugged re-

gion west of the Dead Sea, southeast from Jerusalem

and Bethlehem. (Luke i. 80.) His raiment was a
cloth of camel's hair, probably a long robe fastened
round the waist with a leathern girdle. Whether he
lived more as a hermit or as a shepherd, we cannot
tell. It is probable that he was each by turns. In a
manner which is peculiarly congenial to the Oriental
imagination, he fed his moral nature in solitude, and
by meditation gained that education which with West-
ern races comes by the activities of a benevolent life.
He probably surpassed his great prototype in native
power and in the importance of his special mission, but
fell below him in duration of action and dramatic effect.

Elijah and John were alike unconventional, each hav-

ing a strong though rude individualism. Living in the
wilderness, fed by the thoughts and imaginations which
great natures find in solitude, their characters had
woven into them not one of those soft and silvery
threads which fly back and forth incessantly from the
shuttle of civilized life. They began their ministry
without entanglements. They had no yoke to break,
no harness to cast off, no customs to renounce. They
came to society, not from it.
Each of them, single-handed, attacked the bad morals
of society and the selfish conduct of men. Though of
a priestly family, John did not represent the Temple
or its schools. He came in the name of no Jewish
 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 95

Beet or party. He was simply " the voice of One cry-

ing in the wilderness."
John was Christ's forerunner, as the ploughman goes
before the sower. Before good work can be expected,
there must be excitement. The turf-bound surface
of communities must be torn up, the compacted soil

turned to the air and light. Upon the rough furrows,

and not on the shorn lawn, is there hope for the seed.
This ^reat work of arousing the nation befitted
John. His spirit was of the Law. He had, doubtless,
like his ancient brethren of the prophet brood, his
mysterious struggles with the infinite and the un-
known. He had felt the sovereignty of conscience.
Right and wrong rose before his imagination, amidst
the amenities of an indulgent life, like Ebal and Geri-
zhn above the vale of Samaria. In his very prime, and
full of impetuous manhood, he came forth from the
wilderness, and began his career by the most direct
and unsparing appeals to the moral sense of the people.
There was no sensuous mysticism, no subtile philosophy,
no poetic enchantment, no tide of pleasurable emotion.
He assailed human conduct in dowuright earnest. He
struck right home at the unsheltered sins of guilty
men, as the axe-man strikes. Indeed, the axe should
be the sign and syuibol of John.' There are moods
in men such moral aggression as his.
that invite
When a large and magnetic nature appears, with
power to grasp men, the moral feeling l)e('()mes elec-
tric and contagious. Whole communities are fired.
They rise up against their sins and si'lf-iiidiilgcni lial)-

' "And now also tlic axe is laid unto tin- rnnt of tlic tni's: tlicrrforo

every trei' wliich liiin;.'clli not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into

the fire." (Matt iii. lu.)

96 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

its,they lead them forth to slaughter, as the minions

of Baal were led hy Elijah at Mount Carmel. Not the
grandest commotions of nature, not the coming on of
spring, nor the sound of summer storms, is more sub-
lime than are these moral whirls, to which, especially
in their grander but less useful forms, rude men, in
morally neglected communities, are powerfully ad-
dicted.
The wilderness of Judasa, where John began his

preaching, reaches on its northern flank to the river

Jordan. From this point he seems to have made brief
circuits in the vicinity of the river valley. " He came
into all the country about Jordan." (Luke iii. 3.)
But, as his fame spread, he was saved the labor of
travel. " There went out unto him all the land of
Judaea" (Mark i. 5), — city, town, and country. The
population of this region was very dense. It was
largely a JcAvish population, and therefore mercurial
in feeling, but tenacious of purpose ; easily aroused,
but hard to change not willing to alter its course,
;

but glad to be kindled and accelerated in any direc-

tion already begun. An Oriental nation is peculiarly
and the Jews above all Ori-
accessible to excitement,
entals were open to its influence. Fanaticism lay
dormant in every heart. Every Jew was like a grain
of powder, harmless and small until touched by the
spark, and then instantly SAvelling wdth irresistible
and immeasurable force. Just at this time, too, the
very air of Judaea was fidl of feverish expectation.
Its people were sick of foreign rule. Their pride
was wounded, but not weakened, or even humbled.
The Jews were the children of the prophets. That
one Voice crying in the wilderness touched the deep
-^S^WJ'
 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 97

religious romance of every patriotic heart. It was

like olden time.
the So had the great prophets
done. Even one of less greatness than John would
have had a tumultuous reception. But John was
profoundly in earnest. It was his good fortune to
have no restraints or commitments. He had no phi-
losophy to shape or balance, no sect whose tenets he
must respect, no reputation to guard, and no deluding
vanity of an influence to be either won or kept. He
listened to the voice of God in his own soul, and
spake right on. When such a one speaks, the hearts
of men are targets, his words are arrows, and multi-
tudes will fall down wounded.
And yet no one in the full blessedness of Chris-
tian experience can look upon the preaching of John
without sadness. It was secular, not spiritual. There
was no future, no great spirit-land, no heaven above
his Avorld. The Jewish hills were his horizon. It is
true that he saw above these hills a hazy light but ;

what that light would reveal he knew not. How

should he ? To him it seemed that the Messiah would
be only anotlier John, but grander, more thorough,
and wholly irresistible. " But he that cometh after
me is mightier than I." What would this mightier
than John be ? What would he do ? Only this " He :

shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost and with lire:
whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly purge
his floor, and will gather the wheat into his gar-
ner but the chafl' he will burn with fire unquench-
;

al)le."

All this was true but that does not desciil)0 the
;

Christ. John saw him as one sees a tree in winter,

— the bare branches, without leaves, flowers, or fruit.
 — ;

98 THE LII'E OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

What would he have thought, if he had heard the

first sermon of Jesus at Nazareth, — " He hath sent me
to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to
the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to
set at libertythem that are bruised " ? No wonder
Jesus said of him that the least in the kingdom of
heaven should be greater than he John would have !

said, Purity and then divine favor; Christ, Divine

favor that ye may become pure.
This great Soul of the Wilderness was sent to do
a preparatory work, and to introduce the true Teacher.
Though he represented the Law, that Law had not
in his hands, as ithad in the handling of the priests,
lost all compassion. There is a bold discrimination in
the Baptist's conduct toward the ignorant common
people and the enlightened Pharisee. " What shall we
do?'' is the question of a heart sincerely in earnest
and this question brought John to each man's side like
a brother.
Knowing that to repent of particular sins was an
education toward a hatred of the principle of evil,

sins being the drops which flow from the fountain of

sin, — he obliged the tax-gatherer to repent of a tax-
gatherer's sins, — extortion and avarice. The soldier
must abandon his peculiar sins, — violence, rapine,
greed of booty, revengeful accusations against all

who resisted his predatory habits. Selfish men, liv-

ing on one another by the endless

together, prey
ways of petty John struck at .the root
selfishness.
of this universal self-indidgence when he commanded
the common people, He that hath two coats, let him
'''

impart to him that hath none and he that hath meat,

;

let him do likewise." It is probable that he had

 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 99

seen right before him hungry and shivering men by

the side of the over and luxuriously clothed.
full '

There were others in the crowd besides publicans

and sinners. There were saints there, at least —
the Pharisees thought so. They looked upon others
with sympathy, and were glad that the common peo-
ple repented. Although they themselves needed no
amendment, it yet could do no harm to be baptized,
and their pious example might encourage those who
needed it !This John was doing good. They were
disposed to patronize him !

If thiswas the spirit which John perceived, no

wonder he Hashed out upon them with such light-
ning strokes. " generation of vipers, who hath
warned you to flee from the wrath to come ? Bring
forth fruits meet for repentance." These dazzling
words did not altogether ofllend, for the Pharisees
were sure that John did not quite understand that
they were the choicest and most modern instances
of what the old saints had been! Looking around
on the sun-bleached graAcl and mossless stones, John
replied to their thoughts " Think not to say within
:

yourselves. We have A))raham to our father; for I

say unto you, that God is al)le of these stones to raise
up children unto Abraham."
The preaching of John is plain. But what was
the meaning of his l)a])tisui ? Was into the Jew-
it

ish church that he baptized? But tlic ])co|)le were

alri'ady nicinbcis of tiiat chui'cli. It was a national
church, and men were born into it Avitliout any fur-
ther troubh'. Was it an initiation into a new sect?
John did not organize a sect or a party. Tie ex
>v-

plicitly declared his ollice to he tiansitory, ids fiuK

100 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CnniST.

tion to prepare men for the great Coming Man

Was it Christian ])aptism ? Christ was not yet de-
clared. The fornuda was not Christian.
If that inevitable husk, an outward organization,
had not become so fixed in men's minds, John's own
explanation would suffice. It is clear and explicit:
" I baptize you with water unto repentance." It was
a symbolic act, signifying that one had risen to a
higher moral condition. was an act of transition.
It
It was a moral act, quite important enough to stand
by itself, without serving any secondary purpose of
initiation into any church or sect. Neither John nor
afterwards Jesus gave to the act any ecclesiastical
meaning. It had only a moral significance. It was
an act neither of association nor of initiation. It was
purely personal, beginning and ending with the individ-
ual subject of it. It conferred, and professed to confer,
nothing. It was declaratory of moral transition. Bap-
tism is that sjanbolic act by which a man declares,
" I forsake my sins, and rise to a better life."
A study of the
fragments of John's discourses enables
us to understand the relation of their subject-matter
to the spiritual truths which Christ unfolded. He
dwelt in the truth of the old dispensation. He saw
the twilight of the coming day, but did not compre-
hend it. He called men to repentance, but it was
repentance of sin as measured b}' the old canons of
morality. He men to reformation,
called but not to
regeneration. He summoned men back to the highest
conception of rectitude then known ; but he did not,
as Christ did, raise morality into the realm of spiritu-
ality,and hold forth a new ideal of character, incom-
parably higher tlian any before taught. the very K
 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. IQl

Reformer liimself, in the estimation of Jesus, was less

than the least in the kingdom of Heaven, how much
lower must his rude disciples have been than the " new
man in Christ Jesus " !

Ideals are the true germs of growth. No benefactor

is like him who fills life wi<:h new and fruitful ideals.

Christ gave to every duty a new motive. Every vir-

tue had an aspiration for something yet nobler. He
carried forward the bounds of life, and assured immor-
tality to the world as a new horizon. He blew away
the mists of the schools, and the nature of God shone
out with redoubled radiance. He was the God of the
Jews, because he was the God of the whole earth. He
was King, because he was Father. H«e was Sover-
eign, because love reigns throughout the universe.
He suffered, and thenceforth altars were extinguished.
He and Sinai became Calvary. Where he lay,
died,
there was a garden and Howers and fragrant clusters
;

were the fit symbols of the new era.

The true place of John's preaching cannot be so well
fixed as by this contrast. But John answered the end
forwhich he came. He had aroused the attention of
the nation. He had stimulated, even if he had not
enlightened, the public conscience; and, al)Ove all, he
had excited an eager expectation of some great na-
tional (l('li\ ciiince.

The Jew had decj) uioi'al feeling, but little spirit-

uality. His luoial sense was strong, but narrow,
national, and selfish. Tenacious of piu-pose. elastic and
tough, courageous even to fanaticism, heroic in sulfer-

ing, tiu' one ('lenient neeiled lo a grand national char-

acter was love. '•
Tliou shalt love tliy friends and
hate thine eiu'inies." gave ample scope to iiis nature;
102 ^'^^' T^I^^^'' ^^^^ JESUS, THE CHRIST.

for his friends were few, and enemies nearly the

his
whole civilized world. The Hebrews looked for a
Messiah, and he was already among them. Love was
his natm'e, love his mission, and his name might

have been called Love. How should he be known

by a nation who were practised in every inflection of
hatred, but who had never learned the spiritual quality
of love?
Restless as was the nation, and longing for divine
intervention, every portent was quickly noticed. Fierce
factions, and from a lower plane the turbulent peo-
ple, watched his coming. The wretched multitude, a
prey by turns to foreigners and to their own country-
men, had, with all the rest, a vague and superstitious
faith of the coming Messiah. Holy men like Simeon,
and devout priests like Zacharias, there were, amidst
this seething people, who, brooding, longing, wjiiting,
chanted to themselves day by day the words of the
Psalmist, " My soul waiteth for the Lord more than
they that watch for the morning." (Ps. cxxx. 6.) As
lovers that watch for the appointed coming, and start
at the quivering of a leaf, the llight of a bird, or the
humming and grow weary of the tense
of a bee,
strain, so did the Jews watch for their Deliverer. It
is one of the most piteous sights of history, especially

when we reflect that he came, — and they knew him

not!
This growing excitement in all the region around
the Jordan sent its fiery wave to Jerusalem. The
Temple, with its keen priestly watchers, heard that
voice in the wiklerness, repeating day by day, with
awful emphasis, " Prepare, prepare the Lord is at
!

hand !
" With all the airs of arrogant authority came
 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 103

clown from the Sanhedrim priestly questioners. It is

an early instance of the examination of a young man

for license to preach.
"
" Who art thou ?

" 1 am not the "Christ."

" What then, art thou Elias ?"
" I am not."

"Art thou that prophet?"

" No."
" Who art thou, that we may give an answer to them
"
that sent us ? What sayest thou of thyself ?

"I am the Voice of one crying in the wilderness,

Make straight the way of the Lord, as said the prophet
Esaias."
" Why baptizest thou then, if thou he not that
Christ, nor Elias, neither that prophet?"
" I baptize with water. But there standetii One
AMONG YOU whom ye know not. He it is, that, coming-
after me, is preferred before me, whose shoe's latchet
I am not worthy to luiloose."
There can be no doubt of the effect of John's replies
upon tlie council at Jerusalem. It was simply a de-
nial of their authority. It was an appeal from Ritual
to Conscience. He came home to men with direct
and personal a])peal, and refused the old forms and
sacred cliimucls of instruction; and wIu'h asked l)y
the ])roper authorities for his credentials, \\v gave his
name, A Voice iu the Wilderuess, as if he owed no
obligation to Jerusalem, but only to nature and to

God.
Already, tlicii, tlicir Messiah was luiimling in the
throng. He was looking u])on men. and upon John,
hut was not recoLiiiiziMl. What iiis thoughts wei'c at
 "

l04 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the scenes about him, every one's own imagination

must reveal.
On the day following the visit of this committee from
Jerusalem, as John was baptizing, there came to him
one Jesus from Nazareth, and asked to be baptized.
John had been forewarned of the significant sign by
which he should recognize the Messiah " He that sent :

me to baptize with water, the same said unto me, Upon

whom thou shalt see the Spirit descending, and remain-
ing on him, the same he who baptizeth with the
is

Holy Ghost." Although that signal had not been

given, yet he recognized Jesus. Whether, being cou-
sins, they had ever met, we know not. It is evident
that they were in sympathy, each having fully heard
of the other. Perhaps they had met year by year in
the feasts of Jerusalem, to which we know that Christ
went up, and at which John, as a man of the old dis-
pensation and a thorough Jew, heart and soul, was
even more likely to have been present.
How fierce had been the reply of the Baptist when
the Pharisees asked to be baptized How gentle was
!

his bearing to Jesus, and how humble his expostula-

tion, " I have need to be baptized of thee, and comest
thou to me ?
His heart recognized the Christ, even before the de-
scent of the Spirit.
Equally beautiful is the reply of Jesus. He had not
yet been made known hy the brooding Spirit. He had
neither passed his probation, nor received that enlarged
liberty of soulwhich was to be to him the signal for his
peculiar ministry. He was simply a citizen of the com-
monwealth of Israel, under the Law, and he was walk-
ing in the footsteps of his people, " that in all things
 The voice in the wilderness. io5

he miglit be made like unto his brethren " " of the

seed of Abraham."
They went down together, the son of Elizabeth and
the son of Mary, John and Jesus, into the old river
Jordan, that neither hastened nor slackened its current
at their coming ; for the Messianic sign w^as not to be
from the waters beneath, but from the heavens above.
Hitherto the Jordan had been sacred to the patriotic
Jew from its intimate connection with many of the
most remarkable events in the history of the common-
wealth and of the kingdom. Another Jesus ^ had once
conveyed the people from tlieir wanderings across this
river dry shod. The Jordan had separated David
and his pursuers Avhen the king fled from his usurping
son. Elijah smote it to let liim Jind Elisha go over,
and erelong Elisha returned alone. The Jordan was
a long silvery thread, on which weie strung national
memories through many hundred years. But all these
histories were outshone hy the new occurrence. In all
Christendom to-day the Jordan means Christ's bap-
tism. Profoundly significant as was this event, the
first outward step by which Jesus entered u])on his min-

istry, it was followed by another still more striking

and far more important. Jesus ascended from the Jor-

dan looking up and praying. (Luke iii. 21.) As he
gMze(l, the sky was cleft open, and a Ix'ain of liglit
Hashed fortli, and, alighting upon liiui. seemed in
bodily sha])e like a dove. Instaiifly a voice spake
from out of heaven, " This is my bclovt'd Son, in
whom I am well pleased." (Matt. iii. 17.)

'
In till- Hebrew tlu' iiniiic Saviour appears imiler tlu- tlilU'reiit forms
HosHEA {Oshea), JKiiosiir.v {Joshua), later Hebrew Jkshua (Greek
Jesus).
loo THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

We know not wlint opening of soul came from this

divine light. We know not what cords were loosed
and what long-bound attributes unfolded, — as buds
held by winter unroll in the spring. But from this
moment Jesus becjime Tue Christ He relinquished
!

his home and ordinaiy labors. He assumed an au-

thority never before manifested, and moved with a
dignity never afterward laid aside. We cannot, by
analysis or analogy, discern and set forth the change
wrouiirht within him bv the descent of the Holv Ghost.
But those who look with doubt upon the reality of
any great exaltation of soul divinely inspired may do
well to see what often befalls men.
It is a familiar fact, that men, at certain periods of
their lives, experience changes w^iich are like an-
other birth. The new life, when the passion, and, still

more significantly, when the sentiment, of love takes

full possession of the soul, is familiar. Great men
date their birth from the hour of some great inspi-
ration. Even from human sources, from individual
men, and from society, electric influences dart out
upon susceptible natures, which change their future
history. How much more powerful should this be
if there is a Divine Spirit ! If secular influence has
transforming power, how much more divine influence!
The universal belief of the Church, that men are the
subjects of suddenand transforming divine influences,
is borne out by facts without number. The most
extraordinary and interesting f)henomena in mental
history are those which appear in religious conver-
sions. Men are overwhelmed with influences to which
they were before strangers. Without changing the
natural constitution of the mind, tlie balance of power
 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 107

is dominant animal passions go under

SO shifted that
the yoke, and dormant moral sentiments spring up
with amazing energy. With such sudden transfor-
mations within, there follows a total outward revo-
lution of manners, morals, actions, and aims. Per-
haps the most drauuitic instance is Paid's. But
inward changes, without the external brilliancy, have
been made in thousands of men and of women, full
as thorough and transforming as that of the great
Apostle. Indeed, such changes are no longer rare
or remarkable. They are counuon and familiar. And
even though we should join those who, admitting
the change, account for it upon the lowest theory
of natural principles, the main thing which we have
in view w^ould still be gained namely, to show that
;

the human soul is so organized that, when brought

under certain intiuences, it is susceptible of sudden
and complete transformation.
If it is thus impressible at the hands of secular in-
fluence, how much more if there be admitted a divine
energy, as were an atmosphere of divine will, in
it

which all material worlds float, and out of which physi-

cal laws tlieinselves flow, as rills and rivers from an

inexhaustible reservoir I

But the upon which the Spirit descended over

soul
the Jordan was divine. It was a divine nature,
aroimd wliidi had been boinid cords of restraint, now
greatly loosened, or e\en snapped, by the sacred tianie ;

with atliibntes repressed, sell-infolded, but which now,

at tlie celestial touch, were lonsed to something of
theii' pristine sweep and power.
All belbi-e this has been a |)eriod of waiting. Tjjon
his ascent IVoin the .Ionian. .lesiis the ("ini>t. indued
108 TfJF. LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHniSf.

with power by the Holy Spirit, steps into a new sphere.

He is now to appear before his people as a divine
teacher, to authenticate his high claims by acts so far
above human power that they shall evince the Divine
presence ; and, finally, to be offered up, through suf-
fering unto death, as a sacrifice for sin, — the one
victim which shall forever supersede all other sacri-
fices. Here, then, upon the banks of the Jordan, be-
gins the new dispensation.
There is a remarkable symmetry of mystery about
John. He had all his life lived apart from society,
unknowing and imknown. Standing by the side of
the Jordan, he made himself felt in all Judaea and
throughout Galilee. The wise men of his time sought
in vain to take his measure. Like all men who seek
to reduce moral truth to exact forms and propor-
tions, the Pharisees had their gauge and mould, and
John would not fit to any of them. If he was not
Messiah, or Elias, or that prophet, he might as well
have been nobody. They could not understand him ;

and when he described himself as a voice to men's

consciences from the wilderness, it must have seemed
to his questioners either insanity or mockery.
We are better informed of his true nature and pur-
poses ;
3'et how little of his disposition, of his personal
appearance and habits, the style of his discourse, his
struggles with himself, his alternations of hope and
fear, do we know Looking back for the man who
!

moved the whole of Palestine, we can say only that

he was the Voice from the wilderness. Though the
history of our Lord will require some further notice
of John by and by, yet we may here appropriately
finish what little remains of his personal history.
 Tin-: VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 109

He continued to preach and to baptize for some time

after Christ entered upon his mission, ascending the
Jordan from near Jericho, where it is supposed that he
began his baptismal career, to Bethany (not Bethabara),
beyond Jordan, and then, still higher, to yEnon. His
whole ministry is computed to have been something
over two years. Herod Antipas had long looked with
a jealous eye upon John's influence. No man who could
call together and sway such multitudes as John did

would be looked upon with favor by an Oriental despot.

It only needed one act of fidelity on the prophet's part
to secure his arrest. John publicly denounced the
wickedness of Herod, and particularly his indecent
marriage with his brother Philip's wife, Herodias, who
eloped from Philip to marry Herod Antipas. John
was imprisoned in the castle of Machaerns, which stood
on the perpendicular cliffs of one of the streams emp-
tying into the Dead Sea from the east, and not far
from its shores. There John must have remained in
captivity for a considerable period of time. It was

not Herod's intention to do him further liaiin. But

Herodias could not forgive the sting of his public,

rebuke, and watched for his destruction. Not long,

however, had she to wait. By her volu})tuous dancing
upon a state occasion, at a banquet, the daughter of
Herodias won from the king the boon ol' clioosing her
own reward. Instructed by her vindictive mother,
she demanded the head of John. With a ])assing
regret, tlie ])romise was ke])t, —
and the {'v[\^\ went
on. John's disciples bui'icd his body. Thus cndtMl
the earthly iil"<' ol" this cliild of |>rc)niise, — the soblary
heniiit, the ardent ret'oiiner. the last prophet of" the
Old Testament line.
110 rillC LIFE OF JESUS, THE VllRlST.

It was upon these mountains of Moab, or in their

ravines, that Moses was buried. Thus the first f^reat
prophet of Israel and the hist one were buried near
to each other, outside of the Promised Land, amidst
those dark hills beyond Jordan and the Dead Sea.
There is a striking analogy, also, in another respect.
Moses came only to the border of the Promised Land,
the object of his whole life's labor. lie looked to the
north, to the west, to the south, over the whole of
it. " I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes,
but thou shalt not go over thither."
John had gone before the promised Messiah, to
prepare his way, and to bring in the new dispen-
sation. But he himself was not permitted to enter
upon it. Out of his prison he sent to Jesus an
anxious inquiry, " Art thou he that should come, or
look we for another ? " The account which his disci-
ples brought back must have assured his lonely heart
that the Messiah had come. His spirit beheld the
dawning day of holiness, and was dismissed.
Until this day no one knows where either Moses or
John was buried. They were alike in the utter hiding
of their graves.

We have already spoken of the nature of John's

baptism. The question arises. Why should Jesus be
baptized? His reply was, " Thus it hecomcih ns to fulfil

But baptism was not a part of the

all righteousness''

Jewish service. Even if proselytes were baptized

into the Jewish church, there is no evidence that a
Jew was required to be baptized at any period of his
life. We are not to confound the imshings of the Le-
vitical law with baptisms, which were totally different.
 THE VOICE IN nil-: WILDI-JiNESS. HI
It certainly could not be a baptism of repentance
to Jesus in the same sense that it is to all others.
Very many solutions have been given of this per-
plexing question.^
Every man who has been, like John, successful in
arousing men from evil and leading them toward a
higher life, has noticed that repentance always takes
on at first the form of turning from evil, rather than
of taking hold on good. To part with sweet-hearted
and break up evil habits, especially
sins, to forsake

habits formed upon the passions and appetites, re-

quires vehement exertion. As this is ordinarily the
firstexperience in repentance, and usually the most
sudden and painful one, while righteousness is gradual

' Meyer ji;ives a difjost of the various oj)inions which have been held con-"
cerning Christ's bajjtisin : — "Jesus did not come to be baptized from a
leeliiig of personal siniiilness (Bruno Hauer, eoinp. Strauss) ; nor because,
according to the Levitical law, his personal connection with an impure
people rendered him impure (Lange) ; nor for the purpose of showing that
there was no incompatibility between his aup^ daBeveias and life in the
Spirit (Ilofmann, Welsxaguny und Ei'/iUlunf/, Vol. II. p. 82); nor because
baptism implied a declaration of being sul)ject to a penalty of death
(Ebrard) nor in order to elicit the Divine di'dai-ation that he was the
;

Messiah (Paulus) ; nor to confirm the faith of his liMlowers, insomuch as baj)-

tism was a symbol of the regeneration of his disciples (Annnon L. J., Vol.
I. p. 2(i8) ; nor to sanction the baptism of .Jnlm by his examj)le (Kuinoel,
Kern); nor to indicate his obligations to obey the law (Ilofmann, Krabbe.
Osiandcr) ; nor, lastly, liecause before the descent of the Spirit he aetcd like

any otiicr ordinary Israelite (Hess, Kuhn, comp. Olshausen).

"The true explanation of this act, as furnished iu verse 1."), is, that as the
Messiah he felt that, according to the Divine will, he bad to submit to the
baptism of his forerunner, in order to receive the iliviiie declaration of his
Messianic dignity (verses It!, 17).
" It was not iu baptism that he fir>t be<'ame conscious of his dignity as llie

Messiah, as if by that act he hailbeen inwardly trausformed into the Mes-

siah ; till- e\|ire<-ii)n 'thus it beeometh us' (verse !."») implies that he was
••onseiuiis of lieiiig the ^^•ssiah, and of the relation in whieh. as such, .lohn
stood Unvard liim." — (Quoted l>y Lange, uu Matthew, Chapter III.
112 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

both in fact and fruition, so it is not surprising that

the popular idea of repentance should be the fot^saking

of evil. To " break off one's sins % rigMeonsness " is

a later knowledge. And yet this is the very core

and marrow of repentance. It is the rising from
grossness into refinement, from selfishness into univer-
sal good-will, from passion to sentiment, — in short,

from the flesh into the spirit.

Repentance, in its from a
last analysis, is rising
lower life into a higher one, and to a holy being
this would be the side first seen and most valued.
To the eye of John, the multitude who were bap-
tized by him, " confessing their sins," were forsak-
ing evil. In the sight of Christ, they were coming
to a higher and better life.

Imagine, then, sympathy of Jesus for these

the
things. Whatever would carrj- forward the work
should be favored. He, too, though he had no sins
to repent of, had higher attainments to make. " The

Captain of our salvation was made perfect through

suffering." Even though, in his full and original
nature, he was God, yet while in humiliation, and
robbed, as it were, of the full disclosure of his own
attributes, he must go through the unfolding process,
and risefrom step to step of spiritual experience.
A baptism to a higher life would probably be Christ's
interpretation of John's baptijgm for himself And he
submitted to one of the great multitude. " It
it, as
becometh us!' He joined the movement; he added
his example to the good Avork going on. Others
repented, —
or turned from evil to good; Jesus only
advanced from point to point in a line of gracious
development. That which repentance means, in its
 THE VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS. 113

true spirit, namely, the rising from lower to higher

inoral states, Jesus experienced in common with the
multitude although he had not, like them, any need
;

of the stings of remorse for past misconduct to drive

him upward. Repentance is but another name for
aspiration.
114 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

CHAPTER VI.

THE TEMPTATION.

At every step the disclosure of the life of Jesus

was a surprise. He came into the world as no man
would imagine that a Divine person would come.
His youth was spent without exhibitions of singular
power. His entrance upon public life was unosten-
tatious. His baptism, to all but John, was like the
baptism of any one of the thousands that thronged
the Jordan.
Shall he now shine out with a full disclosure of
himself? Shall he at once ascend to Jerusalem, and
in the greatness of his Divinity make it apparent to
all men that he is indeed the very Messiah ?

This was not the Divine method. was not by a It

surprise of the senses, nor by exciting mere wonder
among unthinking men, that Jesus would make plain
his Divine nature. It was by evolving a sweeter
and nobler life than man ever does, and in circum-
stances even more adverse than fall to the lot of
man, that his nature was to be shown.
It is not strange to us, now well instructed in the
spirit of Christ's mission, that he did not enter at
once upon his work of teaching. Midway between
his private life, now ended, and his public ministry,
about to begin, there was to be a long and silent
discipline. The three narratives of the Temptation,
 —

THE TEMPTATION. 115

by Matthew, Mark, and Luke, lift us at once into

the region of mystery. We
find ourselves beyond
our depth at the and deep follows deep
first step,
to the end. The mj^stery of that Divine Spirit which
possessed the Saviour, the mystery of forty days'
conflictin such a soul, the mystery of the nature
and power of Satan, the mystery of the three final
forms into which the Temptation resolved itself,
these are beyond our reach. They comj3ass and
shroud the scene with a kind of supernatural gloom.
The best solution we give to the difficulties will cast
but a twilight ui)on the scene.
It has been supposed by many that the Tempta-

tion took place among the solitary mountains of Moab,

beyond the Jordan. It was thither that Moses re-

sorted for his last and longing look over the Prom-
ised Land and it would certainly give us a poetic
;

gratification if we could believe that the " exceed-

ing high " mountain, from which the glory of the
world flashed upon the Saviour's view, was that same
summit upon which his type, the great prophet Moses,
had stood, thus singularly making the same peak
behold the liegiiming of the two great dispensations,
that of tlie Old and that of the New Testament.
It is a pleasant fancy, but hardly true as history.
Westward from Jericho, rising in places with stccj)

clifls of white limestone fifteen hundred feet in height,

is a line of mountains, wliose irregular and rugged
to])s against llic sky, seen from the j)lains of the
Jordan, presenl a noble contrast to the ordinary mo-
notony of the .luda'an hills. One. called (,)uaranta-

nia from its supposed relation to the foity days of

temptation, has been pointed out by tradition as the
 :

116 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

scene of the Lord's conflict. It rises high, is pierced

with caves and gashed with ravines, and is soHtary
and wikl enough to have been, as recorded by Mark,
a lair of wild beasts, as it continues to be to the
present day.
Into the solitude of this mountain in the wilderness
came Jesus, under the same guidance as that which
convoyed the prophets of old. Indeed, we must dis-
miss from our minds modern notions, and even the ideas
which ruled in the time of Jesus, and go back to the
days of Samuel, of Elijah, and of Ezekiel, if we would
get any clew to the imagery and the spirit of the
extraordinary transaction which we are about to con-
sider. Had been recorded of some of the
this scene
it would have har-
prophets hundreds of years before,
monized admirably with the narratives which relate
the old prophetic histories. But in the later days
of Gospel history this scene of temptation is like
some gigantic boulder drifted out of its place and
historic relations, and out of sight and memory of the
cliffs to Avhich in kind it belonged. It is in perfect
accord with the elder Hebrew nature, and it was the
last and greatest of that sublime series of prophetic
tableaux, through which Hebrew genius delivered to
the world its imperishable contributions of moral truth.
Like the seers of old, Jesus was powerfully excited
by the descent upon him of the Divine Spirit. There
were all the appearances connnon to states in which
there is a partial suspension of voluntary action. The
language of the Evangelists is significant. Luke says
" And Jesus, being full of the IIol// Ghost, returned from
Jordan, and was led by tlie Spirit into the wilderness"
(" led w_/?," says Matthew). But Mark's language is
 :

THE TEMPTATION. 117

more strikingly significant of the prophetic orgasm

" And immediately the Spirit driveth him into the wil-
derness." This is the language of the prophet-parox-
ysm. Seized with an irresistible impidse, so the " holy
men of old " were impelled by the Spirit. Thus Eze-
kiel says :
" In the visions of God me into
brought he
the land of Israel, and set me upon a very high moun-
tain." (Ezek. The operation of the Divine in-
xl. 2.)

spiration upon the mind of Ezekiel throws important

light upon the philosophy of this opening scene of
Christ's ministry.
We believe the temptation of Christ to have been
an actual experience, not a dream or a parable, in which
his soul, illumined and exalted by the Spirit of God,
was brought into personal conflict with Satan and the ;

conflict was none the less real and historic, because

the method involved tliat extraordinary ecstasy of
the prophet-mind. Of the peculiarities of the pro-
phetic state we shall speak a little further on.
The whole life of Christ stands between two o trreat

spheres of temptation. The forty days of the wilder-

ness and the midnight in the garden of Gethsemane
are as two great cloud-gates, of enti-ance to his min-
istry and of exit from it. In both scenes, silence is

the predominant quality.

The first stage of the Temptation includes the forty
days of fasting. This may be said to liavc ])vv\\ the
private struggle and personal ])r()bati()U.

The forty days were not for human eyes. If the

history of tliese experiences was ever spoken, even to
tlic car ()(" .loliii, tlic most ri'('ej)tiv(' of tiic disci|)h>s, it

was not dcsigiKMl for record or publication. It is more

probable that the ex])erien('e was iucouiiiiunicable.
 !

1 1 8 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Even in our lower sphere, mental conflicts cannot be

adequately reported. The vacillations of the soul, a
full expression of its anxieties, its agonizing suspense,
shame, remorse, of its yearnings and ambitions, cainiot
be uttered or written. For the word " shame " does
not describe the experience of shame. Nor is the
word " love " a portrait of love. The real life of the
heart is alwaj's unfolding in silence ; and men of large
natures carry in the centre of their hearts a secret
garden or a silent wilderness. But in how much
greater degree is this true of the mystery of Christ's
temptation in the wilderness, and of his trial in Geth-
semane ! If there are no heart-words for full human
feeling, how much less for divine
We know that Jesus grappled with the powers of
the invisible world, and that he was victorious. His
life in the wilderness is not to be imagined as the
retirement of a philosophic hermit to contemplative
solitude. The cavernous mountain was not merely a
study, in which our Lord surveyed in advance the
purposes of his ministerial life. All this, doubtless,
formed a part of his experience; but there was more
than studious leisure and natural contemplation. There
was a conflict between his soul and the powers of dark-
ness ; a sphere of real energy, in which the opposing
elements of good and evil in the universe met in
intense opposition.
Out from that infinite aerial ocean in the great Ob-
scure, beyond human life, came we know not what
winds, what immeasurable and sweeping forces of
temptation. But that the power and kingdom of the
Devil were there concentrated upon him was the be-
lief of Iiis disciples and the teaching of the Apostles,
 TEE TEMPTATION. 119

and it is the faith of the Christian Church. It is not

needful for us to understand each struggle and its vic-

tory. It is enough for us to know, that in this un-

friendly solitude every fjiculty in man that is tried
in ordinary life was also tested and proved in Jesus.
He was tempted in all points" or faculties, as we
"
are, though not with the same means and implements
of temptation. No human being will ever be tried in
appetite, in passion, in affection, in sentiment, in will'
and reason, so severely as was the Lord and his vic- ;

tory was not simply that he withstood the particular

blasts that rushed upon him, but that he tested the
utmost that Satan could do, and was able to bear up
against it, and to come oft' a conqueror, every fac- —
ulty stamped with the sign of invincibility.
The proof of appeared in all his career. The
this
members of his were put to the same stress that
soul
sinful men experience in daily life. There may be
new circumstances, but no new temptations; there
may be new cunning, new instruments, new conditions,
but nothing will send home temptation with greater
force than he experienced, or to any part of the soul
not assaulted in him. Through that long battle of life

in which every man is engaged, and in every mood of

the struggle which men of aspiration and moral sense
make toward perfect holiness, there is an inspiration
of comfort to be derived from the example of Christ.
In places the most strange, and in the desolate way
where men dwell with the wild beasts of the i)assions,

if thci-c l)c' but a twiligbt of failli, we shall liinl his

footstep, and know lliat he has l)een there, — is tiiere

again, living o\er anew in ns his own slrnggles. and

Baying, with the autlioi'ity ol" a (iod and the tenderness
120 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

of a father: "In the world ye shall have tribulation;

but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world."
The world is a better place to live in since Christ suf-
fered and triumphed in it.

We pass now to another form of the Temptation.

It was no longer to be a private and personal scrutiny.
Jesus had baffled the tempter, and driven him back
from the gate of every emotion. But Jesus was not to
be a private citizen. He had a transcendent work to
perform, of teaching and of suffering. His hands were
to bear more largely than before the power of God.
Since the descent upon him of the Spirit on the banks
of the Jordan, the hidden powers of his nature were
springing into activity. Only when he was prepared
to lay aside the clog of an earthly body could he be
clothed again with all that glory which he had with
the Father before the world was. But the entrance
upon his public ministry was to be signalized, if not by
the disclosure of his full nature, yet by an ampler in-
telligence and a wider scope of power. Tropical phmts
in northern zones, brought forward under glass, their
roots compressed to the size of the gardener's pot, and
their tops pruned back to the dimensions of the green-
house, are at midsummer turned out into the open
ground, and there shoot forth with new life and vigor;
and yet never, in one short August, attain to the gran-
deur of their native tropical growth. So this Heav-
enly Palm, dropped down upon Palestine, dwarfed by
childhood and youtli, shot forth new growth when
enfranchised by the Holy Spirit; and yet could not
in this climate, in the short summer of human life,

swell to the full proportions of its celestial life.

These swellings of power, this new radiance of intel-

 THE TEMPTATION. 121

ligence, wereemployed according to the law of

to be
Heaven ; and end was permitted that dramatic
to this
threefold temptation with which the scene in the wil-
derness closes.
"We have already said that the three closing tempta-
tions of Christ are to be regarded, not as parables, but
as prophetic visions. They were historical events, but
in the same sense as the visions of Isaiah or of Ezekiel
were historical. Jesus was a Hebrew, and stood in the
line of the Hebrew prophets. However fantastic the
scenery and the action of the closing temptations may
seem modern thought, they were entirely congruous
to
Avith Hebrew method of evolving the highest
the
moral truths. Nor can Ave fully appreciate them Avith-
out some knoAA-ledge of the prophetic ecstasy.
The prophet-mind, in its highest moods, hung in a
trance between the real physical life and the equally
real spiritual state. The inspiration of those moods
seems to have carried up the mind far beyond its

ordinary instruments. Not ide;is, but pictures, AA^ere

before it. The relations of time and place seemed to

disapjiear. The prophet, tliough stationary, seemed to
himself to be ubiquitous. He Avas borne to distant
nations, made the circuit of kingdoms, held high con-
ference Avith monarchs, saw the events of empires dis-

closed as in a glass. His own Ixxly often l)C'('anie

unconscious. He lost ordinary siglit of the pliysical

woi"l(l. He slept. He swooned. Foi- long periods of

time lie neither liuugered nor thirsted. The propliets
saw visions of liic s])irit-lan(l. Angels conversed with
tlieni. The tlironc of.Ood bla/.cd full upon their da/-
/led eyes.
More Avonderful still was the syniholization enijjloyed
122 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

in this prophetic state. All the globe became a text-

book. Beasts were symbols of kings or of kingdoms.
Floods, whirlwinds, and earthquakes moved in proces-
sion before them as types of events in history. The
rush and might of human passions, revolutions, and
wars were written for them in signs of fire and blood.
Captivity and dispersion were set forth in the gorgeous
imagery of storm-driven clouds of the sun and moon
j

stained with blood ; of stars, panic-stricken, like de-

feated warriors, rushing headlong through the heavens.
How little are the close-cut wings of the modern
imagination prepared to follow the circuits of men who
dwelt in this upper picture-world, where the reason
was inspired through the imagination Physical sci-
!

ence has as yet no analogue for such moods. The

alembic says, It is not in me the rocks and soil say,
;

It is not in us. Poets, nearest of any, are in sympa-

thy with the prophets ; but they mostly sing in the
boughs, low down, and not from the clear air above.
The whole life of the prophet was absorbed into an
intense spiritual intuition.
The moral faculties of the human soul have this
susceptibility to ecstatic exaltation, and therefore the
prophetic mood was in so far natural. But these facul-
tiesnever unfold into the ecstatic visions of prophecy
except by the direct impulse of the Divine power.
And herein the prophetic differs from the merely
poetic.
If the prophets had left only these gigantic frescoes,
we might them by as the extraordinary pro-
pass
duct of fantasy. But this was the prophetic style of
thinkino;- Out of all this wonderful commixture came
the profoundest teaching in regard to national moral-
 THE TEMPTATION. 123

ity, the most advanced views of their times as to

personal purity and dignity, the most terrible invec-
tives against dishonor in the individual and corrup-
tion in the Those clouds and flames
government.
and storms, those and yokes and flails, those
girdles
trumpets and voices and thunders, were only so many
letters by which were spelled out, not merely the no-
blest spiritual truths of the prophets' age, but truths
which are the glory of all ages. Men often are glad
of the fruit of the prophetic teaching, who reject with
contempt the methods by wdiich prophets taught.
The effect becomes ludicrous Avhen modern inter-
preters, not content with a disclosure of the ruling
thought, attempt to transform the Avliolt! gorgeous pic-

ture into modern equivalents, to translate every sign

and symbol into a literal fact. Some have thought
that prophets were insane. They were always rational
enough in their own ways. It has been the interpret-

ers and connnentators who have gone crazy. The at-

tempt of men to work up the Song of Solomon into
church-going apparel is folly past all conceit. Spelling
Hebrew words with English letters is not translation.
Solomon's Song, in our modern exposition, would have
put Solomon and all his court into amazement. Who
can reproduce the opalesque visions of Ezekiel aud
Ilosea in the lustreless language of modern days? If

men were to attempt with bi-ick and mortar to build a

])i('ture of the auroral lights, it would scarcely be more

absurd than the attempt to find UKKJcni (M|uivaleuts
for e\('iy ])art of the sublime Apocalypse of St. Joliii.

iiCt every nation think in its own language. Let every

period have its own method of ins|)iration. As we do
not attempt to build over again Egyptian temples iji
 ;

124 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

American cities, new pyramids on our prairies, but

allow those sublime memorials to remain where they
belong, symbols of the thought of ages ago, so we are
to let the old prophets stand in their solitary gran-
deur.
Like the prophets of earlier days, Jesus fasted long,
and, shutting out external scenes, except such as be-
longed to the most solitary j^hases of nature, he rose
at length to the vision state ; for as in oratorios the
overture foreshadows in brief the controlling spirit

and action of the whole performance, so in the three

trial points which close the Temptation there would

seem to be a foreshadowing of the trials which through

his whole career would beset Jesus in the use of Di-
vine power.
It is impossible for us to strive too earnestly to gain
some idea of this mystery. Yet, with all our powers
of sympathy and imagination, we cannot enter vividly
into the condition of a pure being, come into the world
from the bosom of God to take the place of a subject
and of suffering man. He was " plagued as others are "
he was poor and dependent on friends for very bread,
and yet was conscious of carrying within himself a
power by which the whole world should fly to serve
him he was in disgrace, the pity of the ignorant and
;

the scorn of the great, and yet held in his hand

that authority by which, at a word, the very stars
should praise him, and his brightness outshine the
utmost pomp of kings he was counted with servants,
;

and yet conscious of infinite dignity; he was hated,

hunted, persecuted, even unto death, —a death, too,
which then suggested turpitude and ignominy,- — and
yet possessed, unused, a power which made him supe-
 TUE TEMPTATION. 125

rior to alland more powerful than all. Such experi-

ences might well require beforehand that training and
divine instruction by which the Captain of our salva-
tion was to be made perfect
Weary with watching, and spent with hunger, he
beholds the Adversary approach. ''If thou be the Son
of God, command that these stones be made bread."
This scene will be desecrated if we cannot rise above
the gross materialism of the Latin Chiu'clr Contrast
the awful simplicity of Christ's teachings respecting
evil spirits with the grotesque and hideous representa-
tions of the mediaeval ages. The Romans, it is proba
ble, derived this taint of the imagination from the old
Tuscans, to whom, if we may judge from what remain.<r
of their arts, the future was a paradise of horrors.^

* " The predoniinatiiiff feature of the Etruscan nation, a feature which

]i:i<l been the result of a natural disposition, and principally of a sacerdotal
system very skilfully combined was a gloomy and cruel superstition. ITic
science of the aruspices and the discipline of the augurs were, as is well
known, of Etruscan invention was from Etruria that this kind of super-
; it

stition, reduced to a system carefully drawn uj), was imported at an early

period into Rome, where it became the religion of the state, and, as such,
intolerant and absolute while in (Jreece ideas originally similar, but re-
;

moved at an early period from ilic exclusive dominion of the priests, exer-
cised through the means of oracles and great national festivities, which con-
tinually placed the peoj)le in movement and the citizens in connection one
with the other, — exercised, I say, no other influence and ac(|uired no other
authority than that of popular legends and traditions. With this feature

of the national character in ancient Etruria. a featuri' wliich emanates fron:

a j)rimitive disj)osition, strengthened by the sacerdotal system, we shall

soon see how strongly impressed are all the nutnuments of this jieople
IltiKc the human sacrifices which were for a long time in use there. Hence
the blood-stained combats of gladiators, which were also of Etruscan origii.,
and which, afler having l)een for a long time a game among that people,
l)ec:ime a passion among the Hf)mans. Ili-ncc, in fine, the terrible images
made to inspire terror which are so fre(|uently produceil on the monmnt-nts
of this people, — the larva', the phanti>ms, the monsters of all kinds, the Scyl-
liv, the Medusa, the Furies with hideous features, and Divine, justico under
126 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

This sensuousness of imagination and cruel conception

of the future passed into the Roman Christian Church.
The sublime conception of the Evil One a-s an intelli-

gent prince, who woukl organize the world for selfish

pleasure, and who perpetually strives to bring down
spirit to matter and life to mere sense, the everlast-
ing antagonist of the God of love and of pure spirit,

gives place in the Roman theology to those monstrous

images which have but the single attribute of hideous
and brutal cruelty. That fatal taint has corrupted
the popular idea of Satan to this day. He is not a
mighty but a sooty monster, an infernal vam-
spirit,

pire, heathen Gorgon. The figures of the Scrip-

a
ture, which in their place are not misleading, the
serj)ent and the employed by Jesus to
lion, (figures

inculcate qualities becoming even in Christians,) joined

to the herd of bestial images with which heathenism
— the heathenism of a deo-raded Christianitv — has
filled the world, lapse into excessive grossness and
vulgarity.
Not such was the great Tempter of the wilderness.
He might well have risen upon the Saviour's sight as
fair as when, after a stormy night, the morning star

dawns from the east upon the mariner, " an angel —

of light." To suppose that there could be any temp-
tation experienced by Jesus at the solicitation of
such a Devil as has been pictured by the imagina-
tions of monks, is to degrade him to the level of the
lowest natures. In this ecstatic vision we may sup-

aA'cncjiiifj fiirins ; while in (ireere. milder manners, cultivaterl by a more

humane relijiion, represented death under agreeable, smiling, and almost
voluptuous images." — Raoul Roehette, Lectures on Ancient Art, translated
from the French, (London, 1854,) pp. 54, 55.
 THE TEMPTATION. 127

pose that there arose upon the Saviour's imagination

the grandest conception of reason and of wisdom.
It was not meant toseem a temptation, but only a
rational persuasion. was the Spirit of this World
It
soliciting Jesus to employ that Divine power which
now began to effulge in him, for secular and physical,
rather than for moral and spiritual ends. It was, if
one might so say, the whole selfish spirit of time and
history pleading that Jesus should work upon matter
and for the flesh, rather than upon the soul and for
the spirit.

"If thou be the Son of God, command that these

stones be made bread."
were historic in the sense of an ordi-
If this scene
WAYy personal history, how slight to a divine nature
would be the temptation of eating bread, and how
harndess the act solicited For if it is right that
!

man should employ his faculties in rearing harvests

to supply necessary food, woidd it be wrong for the
Son of Man to employ his power in procuring the
needed bread ?
But as a vision of prophetic ecstasy, in which bread
is the sym])ol of physical life, the temptation is genu-
ine and vital. '-Draw from its sheath the power of thine
omnipotence, if thou be the Son of God. Come forth
from the wilderness as the patron of physical thrift.

Tench men inventions. ]\riilti])ly hai'vests. Cover the

world with industry and wealth. Nonrisli connnerce.
Let villages jj-row to cities. JiCt harhors swaiiii with
ships. How glorious shalt thou he, how will men HjIIow
thee and jdl the world be subdued to thy ein})ire, if

thou wilt connnand the very stones to l)econu^ bread !

If such power as thou surely hast shall inspire even

128 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the dead rocks with nourishment, Nature, through all

her realm, will feel the new life, and seed and fruit,

vine and tree, will give forth a glorious abundance, and

the wilderness shall blossom as the rose."
This temptation, interpreted from the side of pro-
phetic symbolism, struck the very key-note. Shall
Jesus be simply a civilizer, or shall he come to develop
a new soul-life ? Is it to give new force to matter, or
to break through matter and raise the human soul to
the light and joy of the great spiritual sphere beyond ?

He came from the spirit-land to guide the innermost

soul of man, through matter, to victor}'' over it.

The reply, " It is written, Man shall not live by bread

alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the

mouth of God," is the precise counterpart and repul-
sion of the perverting suggestion of Satan. " Men do
not need that to be strengthened in them which is

already too strong. Not and gold, nor wine

silver
and oil, nor cities and kingdoms great in riches, will
raise my brethren to a higher manhood. My new
food they need, but that food is spirit-life. The word
of love, the word of mercy, the word of justice and
holiness, issuing from God, — on these the inner life

of man must feed."

Was not this single temptation a glass in which
he saw the whole throng of temptations that would
meet him at every turn, namel}', of absolute power
used for immediate and personal convenience ? We
do not enough consider what a perpetual self-denial
would be required to carry omnipotence, unused and
powerless, amidst the urgent requirements of a life

vehemently pressed with motives of self-indulgence

in its myriad minor forms.
 ;

THE TEMPTATION. 129

The vision passed; but another rose in its phice.

Since he would not employ physical power for physical
results, since men were not to be led through their
physical wants, but through their spiritual nature,
Jesus was next solicited to let the spirit of admi-
ration and praise be the genius of the new move-
ment. And now the vision took form. There stood
the Temple, and from the peak of the roof on the
court of Solomon, the plunge downward, over the
cliff, deep valley below, was fearful. But won-
to the
derful indeed would it be if one casting himself down
thither, in the sight of priests and people, should be
buoyed up by invisible hands, and, bird-like, move
through the air unharmed.
" If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down from
hence ; for it is written,

He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee

And in their hands they shall bear thee up,
Lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone."

This sjTubol, as a trial scene, contains net only an

appeal to the love of praise in Jesus, but an a])])eal

to the principle of admiration in the multitude. If

he would have a prosperous following and an easy vic-

tory over the world, let him become the master of
marvels. Let him show men that a Divinity was
among them, not by the inspiration of a hiulici lift-

in their souls, but by such a use of Divine power as

should captivate the fancy of all who saw the won-

ders of skill, of beauty, of power and dariug. which he
should show. Still more. Irt liiui ('m])loy his Diviue
power to shield his heart IVoiu tiie (<)nteiiij)t ot ir.-

feriors who were outwai-(lly t( hi' his mast(M's. lie

was to he a servant, when lu' kuew that he was Lord j

'J
130 '^'IIE LIFE or JESUS, THE ciiniST.

he was to have not Avhere to lay his head, — l)irds

and foxes having more rights than he. He was to be

surrounded with spies, and pointed at as a Jew with-
out love of country, as conniving with Rome and
undermining the Temple. In every way, his outward
inferiority was to be sharply brought home to him,
and that instinctive desire of all right souls, to be
held in esteem, was to be painfully excited. One
flash of his will, and scoffs would become hosannas.
Let him employ Divine power for the production of
pleasure and surprise and brilliant applause, and. men
would honor him, and save him from that under-
valuing contempt which the spirit of the Temple (on
which in vision he stood) was yet erelong to pour
upon him.
In a parallel way, the apparition from the mountain-
top, of all the glory of the nations, as a literal fact
was impossible except by a miracle. And though a
miracle is a fact wholly within the bounds of reason,
yet we are not needlessly to convert common events
into uiiracles.There is no such mountain, nor on a
round globe can be. Besides, as a direct persuasion
to worship Satan, it would be worse than feeble, it
would be puerile. Far otherwise would it seem in
a prophetic vision, where, as a symbol, it was to the
real truth wliat letters to the mean-
and sentences are
ing which they express. The impression produced
outruns the natural force of tlie symbol.
There was a tremendous temptation to exhibit be-
fore men his real place and authority to appear as
;

great as he really was to so use his energies that men

;

should admit him to be greater than generals, higher

than kings, more glorious than Temple or Palace. Tn
 THE TEMPrATION. 131

that mountain vision he saw the hne of temptations

which would beat in upon the principle of self-esteem,
that source and fountain of ambition among men. In
all three of these final outbursts we see a proj^hetic
representation of temptations addressed to his public
and ministerial course. They related to that mat-
ter of transcendent importance, the carriage and uses
of absolute power. He was in danger of breaking
through the part which he had undertaken. He must
keep the level of humanity, not in moral character
alone, but in the whole handling of his Divinity. Men
have argued that Christ did not manifest Divine
power forgetting that it was to lay aside his govern-
;

ing power, and to humljle himself as a man, that he

came into the world. With men, the difficulty is to
rise into eminence. With Jesus, the very reverse was
true. To keep upon the level of humanity was his
task, and to rise into a common and familiar use of
absolute power was his danger.
This view is not exhaustively satisfactory. No view
is. Whichever theory one takes in explaining the
Temptation, he must take it with its painful jKM'jilex-
ities. That which is important to any proper con-
sideration of the o])scure sublimity of this mystery
is, that it shall be a teinptntiou of the l)e\il as ;iii

actujd personal spirit; that it sliali be a real temp-

tation, or one that put the I'aculties of Christ's soul
to task, and i'ef|uirt'd a resistance of his whole uature,
as other teu»])tatious do of liuniiiu unturc. It is oii

this account tbat we liave regarded the Tein|>t;ilion

tis of two ])ai-ts or series, — tlie first, a ])ers()nMl iind

i)riv;iti' coiiinct lunninii' throuuii forty solitar\ davs

of fasliuu ill tile wihU'iness; and the second, a min-
132 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

i.steriiil trial, represented by the symbolism of the

bread, the Temple, and the mountain-top.
It is not because we think the literal history open
to many of the objections lu'ged that we prefer the
theory of a symbolic vision. The difficulty sometimes
alleged, that the Scripture narrative clothes Satan
with transcendent power, is not a valid objection,
unless the whole spirit of the New Testament on this

point be false and misleading. He is a prince of

power. Neither is it an objection that Christ seemed
to submit to his dictation. For Jesus had humbled
himself; he had put himself under the dominion of
natural law, of civil rulers, of ecclesiastical require-
ments ; and why should we hesitate to accept this
experience of the domineering arm of the Tempter?
Nor should we hesitate, if they were all, at the
feeble questions, " How could he be conveyed to the
Temple's summit?" and, ""How would it be possi-
ble from any mountain-top to see the whole world,
or any considerable part of it?" If the temptation
in such a literal manner was needful and appropri-
ate, there can be no doubt that there was miraculous
power to produce its conditions.
But we disincline to the literal because it renders
Satan a wretched, puerile creature, shallow, flippant,
and contemptible. It makes it impossible that Christ
should have been tempted. Such bald suggestions
*

would scarcely have power to move a child. They

would be to Christ what a fool's bauble would be
to a statesman like Cecil, what a court jester's frib-
bles would have been to Bacon or to Sully. The
very possibilit}' of tempting such a one as Jesus re-
quires that Satan should be a person of some gran-
 THE TEMPTATION. 133

deiir of nature, one whose .suggestions should indicate

a knowledge of the springs of the human heart, and
some wisdom in acting upon them.

The practical benefit of this mysterious and obscure

passage in the life of Jesus does not depend upon
our ability to reduce by anahsis to some equiv-
it

alent in human experience. It is enough that the

fact stands clear, that he who was henceforth to i)e
the spiritual leader of the race came to his ])ower
among men by means of trial and suffering. The
experience of loneliness, of hunger, and of Aveariness
for forty days, of inward strife against selfishness,
pride, and the glittering falsities of vanity, brought
him into sympathy with the trials through which must
pass every man who seeks to rise out of animal con-
ditions into a true manhood. Suffering has slain myr-
iads ;
yet, of all who have reached a true moral great-
ness, not one but has been nourished by suffering:.

Perfection and suffering seem, in this sjDliere, insep-

arably joined as effect and cause.
Here too, in this strange retirement, we behold the
New Man refusing tlie inferior weapons of common
secular life, determined to coiKjuer by *•
things that
are not," by the 'Mnviucihle miglit of weakness," l)y
the uplifting force of humility, by the secret eiu'rgy
of disinterested love, and by that sul)lime insight,
Faitli. not altogct hci' luiknown brfoi-c. but which
thereafter was to become the great spiritual force of
history.
134 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

CHAPTER YII.

JESUS, HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE.

No man will ever .succeed in so reproducing an age

long past that it shall seem to the beholder as it did
to those who lived in it. Even if one is in possession
of all the facts, and has skill to draw a perfect picture,
he cannot prevent our looking ujDon a past age with
modern eyes, and with feelings and associations that
will put into the picture the coloring of our own time.
But we can approach the times and spirit of Roman
life, or of life in Athens in the days of Socrates, far
more readily and easily than we can the Jewish life
in the time of Christ. He was of the Shemitic race ;

we are of the Japhetic. The orderliness of our

thought, the regulated perceptions, the logical ar-
rangements, the rigorous subordination of feeling to
volition, the supremacy of reason over sentiment and
imagination, which characterize our day, make it al-

most impossible for us to be in full sympathy with

people who had little genius for abstractions, and whose
thought moved in such association with feeling and
imagination that to the methodical man of the West
much of Oriental literature which is most esteemed in
its home seems like a glittering dream or a gorgeous

fantasy.
But the attempt to reproduce the person and mind
of Jesus, aside from the transcendent elevation of the
1. KAIM.IKST KNOWN, FllOM CATACO.M DS 2. FROM I'.MKKAl.I) INIAOLIO OF
OF ST. (Al.IXir.s. i:.Mi'i:i!oi; hcickils.

4. AViKK Ai.iiuii III- i>ri:Ki:. 5. ArrKK pai'I, i»k i.a iinciiK.

HKADS OV ClIIMsr.
 HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 135

subject, meets with a serious obstacle in our uncon-

scious preconceptions. We cannot see him in GaUlee,
nor in Judaea, just as he was. We look back upon
him through a blaze of light. The iitmost care will
not wholly prevent our beholding Jesus through the
medium of subsequent history. It is not the Jesus
who suffered in Palestine that we behold, but the Christ
that has since filled the world with his name. It is
difiicidt to put back into the simple mechanic citizen
Him whom ages have exalted to Divinity. Even
if we could strain out the color of history, we could
not stop the beatings of the heart, nor disenchant the
imagination, nor forget those personal struggles and
deep experiences which have connected our lives in
so strange a manner with his. We cannot lay aside
our faith like a garment, nor change at will our
yearning and affection for Christ, so as not to see
him in the light of our own hearts. His very name
is a love-name, and kindles in tender and grateful
natures a kind of poetry of feeling. As at evening
we see the sun through an atmosphere which the sun
itself has fdled with vapor, and by which its color

and dimensions are changed to the eye, so we see

in Jesus the qualities which he has inspired in us.
Such a state ol' mind inclines one to (U'votioii.
rather than to pliil()so])irK'al accuracy. TIic exalted
idea which we hold oi" .lesits, and our im[)lieit and \\'\-

erential view of his Divinity, still tend, as they have

tended liitherto. to give an ideal color to his peison
and to his actual ait|)earaiice among men in the times
in which he Hved. it is iniconscionsly assumed that

the inwai'd Divinitv manifi'^ted itself in iiis foiiu anil

mien. We see him in imaiiinal ion, not as thi'\ saw

1^36 ^''^ ^-^''''•' ^''' JESUS, THE CHRIST.

liiiii who coiupanied with him from the beginning, but

under the dazzling reflection of two thousand years of
adoration. To men of his own times he was simply a
citizen. He came to earth to be a man, and succeeded
so perfectly that he seemed to his own age and to his
followers to be only a nitm. That he was remarkable
for purity and for power of an extraordinary kind, that
he was a great prophet, and lived in the enjoyment
of peculiar favor with God, and in the exercise of pre-
rogatives not vouchsafed to mere men, was fully ad-

mitted ; but until after his resurrection, none even of

his disciples, any in the circle bej'ond,
and still less

seem to have held that view of his person which

we are prone to form when in imagination we go
back to Palestine, carrying with us the ideas, the
pictures, the worship, which long years of training
have bred in us.
There is one conversation recorded which bears
directly on this very point, namely, the impression
which Jesus made upon his own time and country-
men. It Avas near the end of his first year of min-
istry. He wasneighborhood of Cassarea Phi-
in the
lippi, north of Galilee, where he had been engaged

in wayside prayer with his disciples. Bj^ combining

the narratives in the synoptic Gospels we have the
following striking conversation.
" Whom do men say that I, the Son of Man, am ? "
And the disciples answered and said :
" Some say
that thou art John the Baptist ; but some say Elijah,
and others say Jeremiah, or that one of the old proph-
ets is risen again."
And Jesus saith unto them :
" But whom say ye
that I am?"
 HIS PERSONAL APPEAR.WCE. 1^^

Simon Peter answered and said unto him :

" Thou
art the Christ, the Son of the livino- God."
This, it is an explicit avowal of the speak-
true, is

er's helief that Jesus was the Messiah. But how im-
perfect the reigning expectation of even the most
intelligent Jews must have been, in regard to that
long-expected personage, need not be set forth.That
the disciples themselves had but the most vague
and unsatisfying notion is shown, not alone by
their whole career until after the Lord's ascension,
but by the instruction which Jesus proceeded to
give them in immediate connection with this con-
versation. He began to make known to them what
should befall him at Jerusalem, his sufferings, his
death and resurrection whereat Peter rebuked him,
;

and was himself reproved for the unworthiness of his

conceptions.
There is absolutely nothing to determine the per-
sonal appearance of Jesus. Some ideas of his bear-
ing, and many of his li{d)its, may be gathered from
incidental elements recorded in the Gospels. But to
his form, his height, the character of his face, or of
any single feature of it, there is not the slightest al-

lusion. Had Jesus lived in Greece, we should have

bad a very close portraiture of his person and counte-
nauce. Of the great men of Greece — of Socrates, of
Demosthenes, of Pericles, and of many others — we
have more or less accurate details of ])t'isoiial ;i|)])('ar-

ance. Coius and statues reveal the features of the

Roman contcuiporaries of Jesus l)ut of Him, the one
:

historic" pcrsouage of whose form and face the whole

world most desires some knowledge, there is not a
trace or a hint. The disciples were neitiier litei-ai\
138 ^^^ J^H-^l-^ OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

nor artistic men. It is doubtful whether the genius

of the race to which they belonged ever inclined
them to personal descriptions or delineations.
The religion and the patriotism of the Greek incited
him to fill his tenriDles with statues of gods, and with
the busts of heroes and of patriots. The Greek artist
was scrupulously trained to the study of the human
form, with special reference to its representation in
art. But the Jew was forbidden to make any image
or likeness or symbol of Divinity. The prohibition,
though primarily confined to Deity, could not but
affect the whole education in art; and it is not sur-
prising that there w\as no Jewish art. that paintings —
and statues were unknown, —
that Solomon's Temple
was the single specimen of pure Jewish architecture
of which there is any history. Probably even that
was Phoenician, or, as some think, Persian.
But when men have not formed the habit of rep-
resenting external things from an artistic point of
view, they do not observe them closely. We cannot,
therefore, wonder that there is nothing wdiich was at

any time said by the con mi on people, or by their

teachers and rulers, and that nothing fell out upon
his trial, among Roman spectators, and nothing in the
subsequent history, which throws a ray of light upon
the personal appearance of Jesus of Nazareth.
We know not whether he was of moderate height
or whether his hair was dark or light, whether
tall,

his eyes were blue, or gray, or piercing black. We

have no hint of mouth or brow, of posture, gesture,
or of those personal peculiarities which give to every
man his individual look. All is blank, althous-h four
separate accounts of him w^ere written within fifty
 HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 139

years of his earthly hfe. He is to us a personal

power without a form, a name of wonder without por-
traiture. It is true that there is a conventional head
of Christ, which has come down to us through the
schools of art, but it is of no direct historic value.
The ejirly Fathers were divided in opinion, whether
our Lord had that dignity and beauty which became
so exalted a person, whether he Avas imcomely
or
and insignificant in tippearance. Both views appealed
to the prophecies of the Old Testament respecting
the Messiah :
" Thou art fairer than the children of
men ;
grace is poured into thy lips ; therefore God
hath blessed thee forever. Gird thy sword upon thy
thigh, most Mighty, with thy glory and thy ma-
jesty." (Psalm xlv. 2, 3.)
On the other hand :
" Who hath ])elieved our re-

port ? And to whom arm of the Lord revealed ?

is the
For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant,
and as a root out of a dry ground; he hath no form
nor comeliness and when we shall see him, there is
;

no beauty that we should desire him." (Isaiah liii.

1, 2.)
As men adhered to the one or the other oi' these
and like passages, they formed their theory of Clirist's

personal appearance. During the persecutions of the

second and third centuries, the poor and despised
Christian found it ])leasant to believe tiiat ids Master
was, thongli very God, yet as insignificant outwardly,
and as wretched, as tiu' most vulgar of his disciples.

I^iit when (1n-istianit\ hcgau to ti-iuni|th. and to

hold the sceptre (jf government, it was very natural

that its votaries sliould desire to give to its foinider
a more regal aspect. 8t. .leiouie inveiglied against
140 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the earlier view, contending that, had our Lord not

carried a truly Divine countenance, his disciples would
not so implicitly have obeyed and followed him at his
first call. It was not far, probably, from the begin-

ning of the foiu'th century that the famous letter

was forged, purporting to have been written by
Publius Lentulus, a friend of Pilate, and a contem-
porary of Jesus, of which we shall soon speak.
began to appear about the same
Portraits of Christ
time, each one having a legend which carried it back
to the original; and by the sixth century every prin-
cipal city and Christian community had some image,
picture, cameo, or other representation of Christ, of
which hardly any two were alike. The absurdity
became so oftensive that the Seventh General Coun-
cil, held in Constantinople in 754, condemned all pic-

tures whatsoever which pretended to have come

direct from Christ or his Apostles.^
Such a letter as the fictitious epistle of Publius
Lentulus, had one been written by a Greek or
Roman contemporary of the Lord, would be of mi-
speaka])le interest. But, aside from the rare beauty
of its description, this famous letter is of interest
only as showing what were the received opinions of
Christians in the fourth century respecting our Lord's
personal appearance. We append the letter.^

•
An excellent summary of the historj' of the ideas coneeniinpj our Lord's
appearance may be found in the Introduction to the first volume of the
Life of our Lord nx exemplified in Wo7-ks of Art, &c., &c., begun by Mrs.
Jameson, and continued by Lady Eastlake.
" In this time appeared a man, who lives till now, — a man endowed with
great powers. Men call him a great prophet ; his own disciples term him
the Son of God. Mis name is Jesus Christ. He restores the dead to life,

and cures the sick of all manner of diseases

"This man is of noble and well-proportioned stature, with a face full of
 HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 141

Although the sacred Scriptures furnish not a single

hint of his mien, and although the negative evidence is

strong that there was nothing remarkable in his coun-

tenance on ordinary occasions, it is not improbable
that his disciples, as they everywhere narrated the
principal events of his life, would be inquired of as

to their Master's looks. Nor is it unlikely that they

recalled what they could of his countenance, for the
gratification of a curiosity inspired by love and rever-
ence. The letter of Publius Lentulus may therefore
be supposed to give a clear view of the countenance
which art had already adopted, and which afterward
served virtually as the type of all the heads of Christ
by the great and hy almost all mod-
Italian masters,
ern artists. It remarkable that this
is not a little

typical head of Christ is not a Jewish head. The

first portraits of Christ were made by Greek artists,

in the degenerate days of Grecian art. They could

hardly help bringing miconsciously to their work the

kindness and yet fininK'ss, so that tlu- heholdcrs both love huu and fear
him. His hair is the color of wine, and golden at the root, — straight, and
without lustre, — but from the level of the ears curling and glossy, and di-
vided down the centre after the fashion of the Nazarenes (i. e. Na/arites).
His forehead even and smooth, his face without blemish, and enhanced
is

by a tempered bloom. Hi«< countenance ingenuous and kind. Nose and

mouth are in no way faulty. His beard is full, of the same color as his hair,
.ind forked in form ; his eyes blue, and extremely brilliant.
" In reproof and rebuke he is formidable; in exhortation and teaehing,
gentle and amiable of tongue. None have seen him to laugh ; but many,
on the contrary, to weep. His perscm is tall ; his hanils bi-autiful and
straight. In speaking he is delilurate and grave, and little given to lo-

quacity. In beauty surpassing most men."

Tliure is another description of Jesus found in tlie writings of St. .lohn of
Dama-scus, who lived in the eighth century, and wliieh is taken, without doul)t,
from earlier writiTs. He says tiiat "Jesus w:us ()f stately growth, w th eye-

brows that joined together, IkmuIKuI eyes, curly hair, in the i>riuie of life,

with black beard, and with a yellow complexion and long fingers like iiis

mother."
142 THE LIFE or JESUS, THE CIIIUST.

feelings and ideas inspired hy the splendid represen-

tations which had been made, by the renowned ar-
tists of their country, of the figm-es and heads of. the

niythologic deities, and especially of Zeus, to them —

not only the chief of gods, but the highest realiza-
tion of majesty and authority.
But now is to be seen the modifying influence of
the Christian ideas in respect to the expression of
Divinity. The Christian artists all attempted to ex-
press in our Lord's face a feeling of spiritual eleva-
tion and of sympathy, which was wholly unknown
to classic Grecian art. Although there is in the early
heads of Christ the form of a Greek ideal philoso-
pher's face, or of a god's, the sentiment which it ex-
presses removes it from the sphere of Greek ideas.
Still less is the historic art-head of Christ of the
Roman type. The round Roman head, the hard lines
of face, the harsh energy of expression, form a strik-
ing contrast with the gentle, thoughtful, sympathetic
countenance which comes down to us from the fourth
century. As Christ spiritually united in himself all

nationalities, so in art his head has a certain uni-

versality. All races find in it something of their race

features. The head of Christ, as it comes to us from

the great Italian masters, is to art what the heart of
Christ has been to the human race.
But how unsatisf^ying is all art, even in its noblest
achievements, when by the presentation of a human
face it undertakes to meet the conceptions which we
have of the glory of Divinity! When art sets itself
to represent a Divine face in Christ, it aims not only
at that which is intrinsically impossible, but at an
unhistorical fact. It was not to show his royalty
 HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 143

that Christ came into the world. He took upon him-

self the form of a man. He looked like a man. He
lived and acted as a man. The very miracles which
he wrought served to show, by contrast, the profound
agreement of his a-eneral life with the ffreat lower
realm of nature into which he had descended.
The attempt to kindle his face to such ethereal
glow that it shall seem lost in light, must carry the
artist away from the distinctive fact of the life of

Jesus. He was not a man striving to rise to the

Deity. He was God in the flesh, seeking to restrain
his Divinity within such bounds as should identify
him with his brethren, and keep him within the range
of their personal sympathy.
No one view of the head of Jesus can satisfy the
desires of a devout spectator. It is impossible for
art to combine majesty and meekness, suffering and
joy, indignation and love, sternness and tenderness,
grief and triumph, in the same face at one time.
Yet some special representations may come imuh
nearer to satisfying us than others. The Christ of
Michael Angelo, in his renowned picture of the Last
Judgment, is repulsive. The head and face of Christ
by Leonardo da Vinci, in the Last Supper, even in
its present wasted condition, produces an impression

upon a sensitive nature which it will never forget,

nor wish to forget. But few of all the representations
of Christ wliicli liave })ecome famous in art are at all
helpful, citlu'i- ill bringing us toward any a(K't|iiate
conception of (lie facts ol' history, or in giving hflp

to our devout leclings by I'uniishing thcni an out-

ward expression. The great crowd of j)i('torial efforts

neither aid dexotion, represent histoiy, nor dignify

144 'J'itl-^ Z/^'^'^' OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

art Made without reverence, as professional exer-

cises,they lower the tone of our thoughts and mis-
lead our imagination. Taking all time together, it
may well be doubted whether religion has not lost
more than it has gained by the pictorial represen-
tation of Jesus. The old Hebrew example was far
grander. The Hebrew taught men spirituality, when
he forbade art to paint or to carve an image of the
formless Deity and although Jesus of Nazareth was
;

"God tnanifest in the flesh," and in so far not to be

reckoned rigidly as within the old Hebrew rule, yet
even in this case art can touch only the humiliation
of Divinity, and not its glory.
We could afford to lose the physical portraiture of
Jesus, if in its stead we could obtain such an idea of
his personal bearing and carriage as should place him
before our eyes with that impressive individuality
which he must have had in the sight of his contempo-
raries. Fortunately there are glimpses of his per-
sonal bearinu;. As soon as men cease to divide the
life of Christ, and apportion one part to the man and
the other to the God, as soon as they accept his
whole life and being in its unity, — God manifest in
the flesh, — events become more significant. They
are not the actions of a human soul in some strange
connection with a Divine natiu^e ; they are the out-
working of the Divine nature placed in human circum-
stances. Their value, as interpreters of the Divine
feelings, dispositions, and will, is thus manifestly
augmented.
Every system, whether of philosophy or of re-
ligion, that was ever ])ropounded, l)efore Christianity,

might be received without any knowledge, in the dis-

 —

HIS PERSONAL APPEARASCE. 145

ciple, of the person of its teacher. The Parsee and

the Buddhist beheve in a system more than in a
person. What Phito taught is more important than
what Plato himself was. One may accept all of Soc-
rates's teachmg without caring for Socrates himself
Even Paul's development of Christian ideas does not
require that one should accept Paul.
Not so Christianity. Christianity is faith in Christ.
The vital union of our souls with his was the sum of
his teaching, the means by which our nature was to
be carried up to God's and all other doctrines were
;

auxiliary to this union, or a guide to the life which

should spring from it. To live in him, to have him
dwelling in us, to lose our personal identity in his,

and to have it return to us purified and ennobled,

this is the very marrow of his teaching. them, " I in

and thou me, that they may be made perfect in

in
one." The Apostle summarized Christianity as " Christ
m 7J0H, the hope of glory."
The very genius of Christianity, then, requires a
distinct conception, not of Christ's person, but of his
personality. This may account for the structure of
the Gospels. They are neither journals nor itinera-
ries ; still less are they orderly expositions of doc-
trine. Tlie Gospels are the collective reminiscences
of Christ ))V the most iuipressible of liis disciples.

Their uuMiiorics would retain the most characteristic

transactions which took place diiriug their iutei'course
with the Master, while mere incidental things, the
prosaic and iin])i('torial ])<)rtions of his life, would lade
out. We fnid. therefoi-e, as might be <'X|)ecteil. in

all the Gospels, ])ictures of Christ which ri'present

the social and spiritual elements ol" his life, ratlier

146 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CURIST.

than the corporeal. If these biographies be compared

with the physical portraiture of heroes and gods
which classic literature has furnished, the contrast
will be striking. The Gospels give a portrait, not
of attitudes or of features, but of the disposition and
of the soul.
Most men, it may be suspected, think of Jesus as
one above the ordinary level of limnau existence,
down upon the gay and innocent
looking pitifully
pursuits of common life, — abstract, ethereal, wise,
and good, but living apart from men, and descend-
ing to their level only to give them rebuke or in-
struction.
But we shall miss the free companionship of Christ,
if we thus put him out of the familiar sympathies
of every-day life. He was not a pulseless being,
feeding on meditations, but a man in every honorable
trait of manhood, and participating in the whole
range of industries, trials, joys, sorrows, and tempta-
tions of human kind. During at least twenty years
of his life, if we subtract his childhood, he was a
common laborer. There are incidental evidences that
he did not attract attention to himself more than any
other mechanic. Whatever experience hard-laboring
men pass through, of toil poorly requited, of insig-
nificance in the sight of the rich and the powerful,
of poverty with its cutting l)onds and its hard limita-

tions, Jesus had proved through many patient years.

And when he beg-an his ministrv, he did not stand
aloof like an ambassador froui a foreign court, watch-
ing the development of citizen manners as a mere
spectator. He entered into the society of his times,
and was an integral part of it. He belonged to the
 HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 147

nation, was reared under its laws and customs, par-

took of its liabilities, had the ardor of elevated patri-

otism, and performed all the appropriate duties of a

citizen. John says, " He dwelt muowj us."
And yet it is difficult to conceive of him as spe-
cialized, either to any nation or to any class or pro-
fession. He was universal. Although he had the
sanctity of the priest, he was more than priest.
Though he had a j)hilosoplier's wisdom, he had a
royal sympathy with all of human life, quite foreign
to the philosophic temper. He was more than a
prophet, more than a Jew. He touched human life
on every side, though chiefly in its spiritual ele-
ments. He moved alike among men of every kind,
and was at home with each. Among the poor he
was as if poor, among the rich as if bred to wealth.
Among children he was a familiar companion among ;

doctors of theology an unmatched disputant. Sympa-

thy, Versatility, and Universality are the terms which
may with justice be applied to him.
He loved active society, and yet he was fond of
solitude ; he loved assemblies ; he IoncmI wayside con-
versations with all sorts of men and women. To-day
he roamed the highway, living upon the alms of lov-
ing friends, and sleeping at night wlu're he chanced
to find a bed; to-niorrow we shall (iiid liiiii at the
feasts ol" ricli mcu. both couitcMl and fcai-ed. That
he did uot sit at the table a mere sjx'ctator of social
joy is plain IVoiii the fact which he himscir iiiciitioiis.

that by his pact icipation in feasts he brought u|>ou

hiuiscirthf rc|)iit;it Ion of hcing a rcxcllcr! (.Matthew
xi. 19.) The "beginning of niiiacles" at ('ana was
one which was designed to prolong the festivities of
148 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

a marriage feast. There is not the record of a single

reprehension of social festivity, not a severe speech,
not a disapproving sentence uttered against the pur-
suits and enjoyments of common life. He was neither
an Ascetic nor a Stoic. The feasts of which he par-
took, and which so often form the basis of his para-
bles, glowed with the warmth and color of innocent

enjoyment. It is plain, both that he loved to see

men happy, and that he was himself, in his ordinary
moods, both genial and cheerful, or he could not
have glided so harmoniously from day to day into
the domestic and business life of his countrymen.
It was only in their public relations, and upon ques-
tions of morality and spirituality, that he ever came
into earnest collision with men.
It should be noticed, also, that there was a peculiar
kindness in his bearing which drew him close to

men's persons, — the natural language of affection

and sympathy. He fou'ched the eyes of the blind ; he
put his finger in the ears of the deaf; he laid his

hands upon the sick. The incidental phrases, almost

unnoticed in the Gospels, show this yearning per-
sonal familiarity with men And he could there do
:
"

no mighty work, save that he laid his hand upon a few

sick folk and healed them."^ "Now when the sun
was setting, all they that had any sick with divers
diseases brought them unto him and he laid his ;

hands on every one of them, and healed them."^ "He

called lier to him, .... (vnd he laid his hands on her:
and immediately she was made straight."^
The whole narrative of the blind man given by
Mark (viii. 22-25) is full of this tender and nursing
•
Mark vi. 5. « Luke iv. 40. * Luke xiii. 12, 13.
 ;

HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 149

personal intercourse :
'•
And he conietli to Bethsaida
and they bring a bHnd inim unto him, and besought
him to touch him. And he took the blind man h/j
the hand and led him out of the town and when he ;

had spit on his eyes, and put his hcmds i(pon him, he
asked him if he saw aught. And he looked up,
and said, I see men as trees walking. After that,
he put his hands agcdu upon his eyes, and made
him look up : and he was restored, and saw every
man clearly." When the leper pleaded that he
might be healed, " Jesus put forth his hand, and touched
him, .... and immediately his leprosy was cleansed."
(Matthew viii. 3, 4.) When the centurion asked him
to heal his servant, expecting him only to send the
word of power to his distant couch, Jesus replied, "I
will come and heal him." Peter's mother-in-law being
sick, " he took hvr the hand, and innnediately the
!>//

fever left her." And so the Gospels are full of

phrases tliat iuiply a manner of great personal fa-

miliarity. "And he cauie and touched the bier: and

they that bare hiui stood still." "And he touched
their eyes." "And touched his tongue." "But Jesus
took him by the hand, and lifted him ///>."

Tn no other place is his loving and caressing uiau-

ucr more strikingly set forth tlian in tlie account of
his re('('])ti()n of bttlc cliildi-cn. "And he took thciii

ii]t ill bis iiriiis. put liis li.-iixls npon tbciii. and Messed
them." These are bosom words, full of love-pressure.
And in anotber instance, when enlbreing tbe truth
of disinteresteibiess. it enough to illustrate
was not
it ))y nieiitiouiiig ehililhood. but "he Imdr a eliiM. and

set biin in the luidst oj" llieiu: and when hr lind tnkeu
him in his units, he said unto them. Who-oexer shall
150 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

receive one of such children in m}- name, receiveth

me." (Mark ix. 36, 37.)
Nor should we fail to notice the interview with
Mary, after his resurrection, in the garden. "Touch
me not" reveals her spontaneous impulse, and casts
l)ack a light upon that sacred household life and love
which he had prized so much at Bethany.
But we are not to suppose, because moved
Jesus
among the common people as a man among men,
that he was regarded by his disciples or by the peo-
ple as a common man. On the contrary, there was
a mysterious awe, as well as a profound curiosity,

concerning him. He was manifestly superior to all

about him, not in stature nor in conscious authority,

Ijut in those qualities which indicate power
spiritual

and comprehensiveness. upon

His disciples looked
him both with love and fear. Familiarity and awe
alternated. Sometimes they treated him as a com-
panion. They expostulated and complained. They
disputed his word and rebuked him. At other times
they whispered among themselves, and dared not even
ask him questions. It is plain that Jesus had moods

of lofty abstraction. There were hidden depths. The

sublimest exhibition of this took place at his trans-
figurationon the mount, but glimpses of the same
experience seem to have flashed forth from time to
time. His nature was not unfluctuating. It had pe-
riods of overflow and of subsidence.
But these cloiVled or outshining hours did not pro-
duce fear so much as veneration. The general effect
upon his disciples of intimacy with him was love.
Those who were capable of understanding him best
loved him most. Jesus too was a lover, not alone in
 HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 151

the sense of general benevolence, but in the habit of

concentrated affection for particular persons. " Then
Jesus, beholding him, loved him." " He whom thou
hvest is sick." "Now Jesus hvcd Martha, and her
sister, and Lazarus." " Then
Behold said the Jews,
how he loved him." was not for the first
Surely it

time at the supper following the washing of the disci-

ples' feet, that it could be said of John, " He, leaning
thus, back on Jesus' breast," — for such is the force
of the original, in the latest corrected text.^ That
must be a loving and demonstrative nature with which
such familiarity could be even possible.
Mark, more than any other Evangelist, records
the power which Christ had in his look. His eye at
times seemed to pierce with irresistible power. Only
on such a supposition can we account for the dis-

may of those sent to arrest him. The crowd came

rushing upon him, led on by Judas. Jesus said,
" Whom seek ye ? They answered him, Jesus of Naz-
areth. Jesus saitli unto them, 1 am he As
soon then as he had said unto them 1 am he, they
went backward, and fell to the ground."
Wlien Peter had thrice denied him, "The Lord
turned, and IwJced upon Peter." " And Peter went

out and wept bitterly." Such cases will serve to ex-

plain instances like that of the hciliug of thi' man
'
Tlif '•
Iciniiii^f on rloiis" Ih.-oiii," in llir twciity-lliinl vrrsc (.Ii.lni \iii.),

simply indicatt'S tint J(jliii, irclinin;^ at tal)li' accoiilin;,' to tlu" ciistoin pivv-

ali'iit siiKc the captivity, caim- in-xt hi-low .Ii-siis, ami Iiis hi-ail would tliiTc-

fi)rc ooiiu" near to his Master's breast. Hnt in the twenty-fit'th verse a ililler-

ent artion is in(li( ateil. The laiijrna^'e implies, that, in askin;^ the ipiestion

ahoMt the hetiayal. he leanfij ha.k so as to rest liis lieail upon his Loril's
bosom. The rea<lin;j ••
Icaniit;/ Imrk on Jesus' breast," in.ste.id of ' He then

Ijlitui on Jesus* breast," is approved by Tiseheiidorf, (Jreen, .Altbnl, lUiJ

Trcjjolleb.
152 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

with a withered hand. And he '•

looked round about
on them with anger, being grieved for the hardness
of their hearts." On another occasion he is thus rep-
resented Wlio touched nie ? And he looked round
:
"

about to see her that had done this thing. But the
woman, fearing and trembhng, .... came and fell
down before him."
It is plain,from a comparison of passages, that his
gentle and attractive manners, which made him acces-
sible to the poor, the outcast, and the despised, were
accompanied by an imperial manner
which none
ever presumed upon. Indeed, we have incidental
mention of the awe which he inspired, even in those
who had the right to intimate familiarity. "And
none of the disciples durst ask him. Who art thou?
knowing that it Avas the Lord." All three of the
synoptical Gospelsmention the effect produced by
his bearing and by his answers to vexatious ques-
tions. "And after that, they durst not ask him any
question at all."

Mark mentions a very striking incident in a man-

ner so modest that its significance is likely to escape
us. "And they were in the way, going up to Jerusa-
lem and Jesus went before them and they were
; ;

amazed and as they followed, they were afraid. And

;

he took again the twelve, and began to tell them

what things should happen unto him." (Mark x. 32.)
It seems that he was so absorbed in the contempla-
tion of jthose great events which already overhung
him, and toward which he was quickening his steps,
that he got before them and walked alone. As
they looked upon him, a change came over his
person. Once before, on the mountain, some of them
 "

HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 153

had been bewildered by his changed look. Yet it

was not now an effidgent light, but rather sternness
and grandeur, as if his soul by anticipation was in
conflict with the powers of darkness, and his whole
figure lifted up as in the act of "despising the shame"
of the near and ignominious trial.
Our Lord's great power as a speaker depended
essentially upon the profound truths which he uttered,
upon the singular skill with which they were adapted
to the peculiar circumstanceswhich called them forth,
and to the faculty which he had of uttering in simple
and vernacular phrase the most abstruse ideas. But
there w^as besides all this a singular impressiveness of
manner which it is probable was never surpassed. His
attitude, the extraordinary influence of his eye, his
very were elements of power of which the
silence,
Evangelists do not leave us in doubt.
There is in Mark's account (x. 23) a use of words
that indicates a peculiar, long, and penetrating action
of the eye, —a lingering deliberation. "And Jesus
looked round about, and saith unto his disciples. How
hardly shall they that have riches enter into the
kingdom of God!" When the disciples, amazed witli

the impressiveness of his word and action, asked,

"Who, then, can be saved?" he apparently did not
reply iiist;ii)tl\ . hiil. with the same long gaze, ids eye
spoke in advance of his tongue. '' Jesus, A^r//-///// ujKni
l/niii. saitli. With men it is impossibh', but not with
CJod." Ill the aceoimt Liixcii \)y Mark (\iii. .')•>) one
can s(M' liow hiTLi'e an eleiiieiit of iiii|iressi\'eness was
(h'rised iVoiii ('hrist's iimiiiier :iii(l e.\|)ressioii. before
lie spoke .1 word. ••
Uiit when he had tnrne(l about,
and looked on his (hseiph-s. he rebuked Peter, s.iving,

(let thee behind inc. Satan I

 !

154 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

There Avere times when Jesus did not employ words

at all. Most impressive effects were derived from
liis manner alone. "And Jesus entered into Jerusa-
lem, and into the temple and when he had looked
;

round about upon all things, and now the even-tide

was come, he went out unto Bethany." This scene
would not have lingered in the mind of the specta-
tors, and been recorded in the Gospel, if his air and

manner had not been exceedingly striking. It was

a picture that could not fade from the memory of
those who had seen it, yet it was a scene of perfect
silence
There is a poor kind of dignity, that never allows
itself to be excited, that is guarded against all sur-
prises, that restrains the expression of sudden interest,
that holds on its cold and careful way as if superior
to the evanescent moods of common men. Such was
not Christ's dignity. No one seemed more a man
among men in all the inflections of human moods
than did Jesus. With the utmost
simplicity he suf-
fered the events of throw their lights and
life to
shadows upon his soul. He was "grieved," he was
" angry," he was " surprised," he " marvelled." In
short, his soul moved through all the moods of hu-
man experience and while he rose to sublime com-
;

munion with God, he was also a man among men;

while he reljuked self-indulgence and frivolity, he
cheerfully partook of innocent enjoyments; while he
denounced the insincerity or Ijurdensome teachings
of the Pharisees, he did not separate himself from
their society or from their social life, but even ac-
cepted their hospitality, and his dinner discourses
contain some of his most pungent teachings.
 HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 155

We have purposely omitted those views of Christ

which, through the unfolding process of his life and
teaching, developed at length, in the Apostles' minds,
to the full and clear revelation of Divinity. We have
sketched him as he must have appeared during his
ministry, when men were gazing upon him in won-
der, thinking that he was " that prophet," or " Elijah,"

or that Messiah '•

that should come."
We must not, then, take with us, in following out
the life of Jesus, the conception of a formidable
being, terrible in holiness. We must clothe him in
our imagination with traits that made little children
run to him; that made mothers long to have him
touch their babes ; that won to him the poor and suf-
fering that made the rich and
; influential throw wide
open the doors of their houses him that brought to ;

around him a company of noble women, who trav-

elled with him, attended to his wants, and su})plied
his necessities from their own wealth ; that irresistibly
attracted those other women, in whom vice had not
yet destroyed all longing for a better life ; that ex-
cited among the learned a vehement curiosity of dis-
putation, while the unlettered declared that he spake
as one having authority. He was the great Master
of nature, observing its laws, laying all his jjImus in
consoiiniicc with the fixed oihUt ol" things even in his

miracles; seeming to violate nature, only because ln'

knew that nature is not oidy and alone that small

circle which tonches and inclndes ]>liysical matter.
but a largci- jjrovincc. cnclosiiii:- the great spiritual
world, includiu''' (lod iiiniscll' thiTriii.
156 ?'^^^' ^^^''^' OF JESUS, THE VURiST.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE OUTLOOK.

"Think not that I am come to destroy the law,

or the prophets : I am not come to destroy, but to
fulfil." Jesus would reform the world, not by destroy-
ing, but by developing the germs of truth already
existing. He accepted whatever truth and goodness
had ripened through thousands of years. He would
join his OAvn work to that already accomplished, bring-
ing to view the yet higher truths of the spiritual realm.
But the design of all his teaching, whether of morality
or of spirituality, was to open the human spirit to the
direct influence of the Divine nature. Out of such a
union would proceed by spiritual laws and tendencies
all that man needs.
The reconciliation of the human soul with the Divine
is also the harmonization of the two great spheres,
the material and the spiritual. Men will then be no
longer under the exclusive dominion of natural law
in the plane of matter. They will come luider the in-
fluence of another and a higher form of natural law,
that of the spirit. Nature is not confined to matter.
To us it begins there but nature includes the earth
;

and the heaven, the visible and the invisible, all mat-
ter and all spirit. That portion of natural law which
regulates physical things is nearest to our knowl-
edge, but is not the typical or universal As seen
 THE OUTLOOK. 157

from above, doubtless, it the lowest form of law.

is

Nature is the universe. Nature as men's physical

senses discern it is jDOor and meagre compared with

its expansion in the invisible realm where God dwell-

eth. Natural laws run through God's dominion in
harmonious subordination, those of the spiritual world
having pre-eminence and control.
We discern in Jesus the demeanor of one who was
conscious of the universe, and who knew that this
earthly globe is but its least part, — normal, indeed,
and serviceable, but subject, auxiliary, and subordinate
to higher elements. He acted as one who recognized
the uses of this life, but who by a heavenly experience
knew its vast relative inferiority. By no word did
Jesus undervalue civil laws, governments, the indus-
tries of men, and their accumulated wealth yet not a ;

syllable of instruction did he let fall on these topics,

nor did he employ them to any consideraljle degree in
his ministry. To us, husbandry, navigation, the per-
fection of mechanic arts, and the discovery of new
forces or tlie invention of new combinations, seem of
transcendent importance. Men have asked whether
he who threw no light upon physiology, who made
known no laws of health and no antidotes or remedies
for wasting sicknesses, who left tlie world as poor in
economic resources as he found it. could be Diviue.
But one cognizant of the spiritual universe all
to
these thin<rs would seem initial, subordiuate, and in-
ferior; while tlu' ti'ullis of the soul aud of the spirit,
the science of holiness, would take ])i'ecedence of all

secular wealth and wisdom.

Physical elements might ])e safely left to unfold
through that natuial law of develo|)Uient which is
 ;

158 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

carrying the world steadily forward ; but " the spirit

is weak." To bring the soul of man into the pres-
ence of God, to open his heart to the Divine influ-

ence, was a need far greater than that of any sensuous

help. We shall find that Jesus differed from ordinary
men, not by living above natural laws, but by living
in a larger sphere of natural laws. He harmonized
in his life the laws of spirit and of matter. In all
that pertained to earthly life, he lived just as men
live. In that which pertained to the spirit, he lived
with the air and manner of one who came from
heaven. In his miracles he but exhibited the su-
premacy of the higher over the lower, of the spiritual
over the material. A miracle is not the setting aside
of a law of nature, it is but the exhibition of the su-
premacy of a higher law of nature in a sphere wdiere
men have been accustomed to see the operation of
the lower natural laws alone. No man is surprised
at the obedience of matter to his own will. Our
control of our bodies, and, generally, of the organ-
ized matter of the globe, increases in the ratio of
the growth of our mental strength. Jesus declared
were opened up to the Divine pres-
that, if the soul
ence, this power would be greatly augmented that ;

man's higher spiritual elements had a natural au-

thority over the physical conditions of this world
and that faith, prayer, divine communion, in a fer-
vent state, would enable his followers to perform the
miracles that he himself performed. It was this latent
power of man's spiritual natui'e that Christ sought to
develop. He strove to lift men one sphere higher,
and, without taking them away from the senses, to
break open, as it were, and reveal a realm where the
 THE OUTLOOK. 159

spirit would dominate matter, as in this world matter

governs the spirit.

It is this supremacy of the spiritual over the physi-

cal in the great order of a universe-nature, rather than
of the earth-nature, that must be borne in mind, both
in Christ'sown conduct and in his discourses and his
promises to those who truly entered his kingdom ; and
that is the rational explanation also of the extraor-
dinary phenomena which accompanied the Apostle's
preaching. 4-30.)
(1 Cor. xii.

Christwas a Jew, and did not refuse to love his

country, nor was he without enthusiasm for the his-
toric elements wrought out so nobly by the great
men of the Hebrew nation. And yet no one can fail
to perceive that above all these patriotic enthusiasms,
and far beyond them, he bore a nature which allied

him to universal man without regard to race or pe-

riod, and that his being reached higher than that of
common luunanity, and brooded in the mysterious
realms of the spirit land, beyond all human sight or
knowledge.
We may presume, therefore, that in his ministry
there will be found a close adhesion to nature ; that
as the Son of Man he will follow the methods of ordi-
nary physical nature, while as the Son of (iod he
will confoi'iii to the laws of spiritual nature. And it

nuiy be presuitposcd that, to those not instructed, one

part of siicli observance of natural law may seem to

conflict with another part, whereas both arc alike

coiir<)niial)I(' to iialmc, il" by nature is meant God's
universe.

When Jesus ])cgan liis mission in Palestine, it

IGO THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

swarmed with a population so mixed with foreign

elements that it might almost be said to represent ev-
ery people of the then civilized world. No great war
seemed able to leave Palestine untouched whether ;

it was Egypt, or Assyria, or Greece, or Rome that

was at war, Palestine was sure to be swept by the
inundation. Every retiring wave, too, left behind it a
sediment. The physical conformation of the country
made northern part of Palestine a commercial
the
thorouo-hfjire for Eastern and Western nations, while
Judtea, lying from the grand routes, and not
off
favorably situated for commerce, was less traversed

by merchants, adventurers, or emigrant hordes. And

so it happened that Galilee and Samaria were largely
adulterated, while Judtea maintained the old Jewish
stock with but little foreign mixture.
The Judiean Jews were proud of this superiority.
They looked upon Galilee as half given over to bar-
barism. It was styled " Galilee of the Gentiles,"
since thither had drifted a mixed population in which
almost every nation had some representatives. No
one would suspect from the dreary and impoverished
condition of Palestine to-day how populous it was in
the time of Christ. The ruins of villages, towns, and
cities, which abound both on the east and the west
of the Jordan, confirm the explicit testimony of Jose-
phus to the extraordinary populousness of Palestine
diu'inii: our Lord's life and ministry. Samaria, the
great middle section of Palestine, besides its large
had an adulterated home popu-
infusion of foreigners,
lation. It was on this account that the puritan Jews
of Jerusalem and Judsea abhorred the Samaritans, and
refused to have any dealings with them.
milVATICWS
 THE OUTLOOK. IQl

Galilee, the most populous section,^

intermixed with pagan elements. Tmife Romai
made up largely of Italian officer;
drawn from conquered Oriental natl
all the large towns, and left in theni^-
the outside world. Already the Greek,
rover, the merchant of that age as the
the trader of subsequent ages, was largely spr'i
through the province. Syria and Phoenicia also con-
tributed of their peoj)le. Thus, in every part of Pal-
estine, north and south, a foreign population swarmed
around the Jewish stock without changing it, and
without being itself much changed.
The inequality of condition which separated the
various classes of Jews Avas unfavorable to jDrosperity.
While the northern province was given to commerce,
the great plain of Esdraelon serving as a roadway be-
tween the shores of the Mediterranean and the great
Syrian interior and the countries skirting the Lower
Jordan and the Dead Sea, yet the bulk of the popu-
lation depended for a precarious subsistence upon
agriculture and the humbler forms of mechanic art.
That affecting petition in the Lord's Prayer, Give us ''

this (lay our daily bread," is an historic disclosure of

local want, as well as an element of imiversal devotion.

It is tiic player prescribed foi- uieii to whoui it was

said, "Take no [anxious] thought what ye shall eat,

what ye sliall drink, or wherewithal ye shall be
clothed." l>ut commerce had made a ])ortion of the
j)eople rich. Extortion had swollen the allluence or
others. The gicatcst injustice picxaiied. Small pro-
tection was gi\('n to the weak. The .lews wiTe a
'
Till' |iii|iiilatii)ii ot' (ialiU'c was aliuiit tlin-c millions.

11
162 ^rHE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

subject race, but not subdued. Little able to govern

themselves, they were still less fitted to be governed
by another nation. Their religious training had built
up in them a character of great strength. They were
proud, fierce, and careless of life to an extraordinary

decree, whether was their own life or that of others.

it

Political subjection was peculiarly irksome, because,

as they interpreted their prophets, the Jews were
God's favored people. They believed that the family
of David, now obscure and dishonored, was yet to
hold the sceptre of universal monarchy. They had
not onl}^ a right to be free, but God had specially
promised that they should rule all other nations, if

only they kept his statutes. To keep his command-

ments was their one excessive anxiety. They scruti-
nized every particular, added duty to duty, multiplied
and magnified particulars, lest something should be
omitted. They gloried in the Law, and devoted them-
selves to it night and day with engrossing assiduity.
Where, then, was their reward ? Why was not the Di-
vine promise kept ? Instead of governing others, they
wei'e themselves overwhelmed, subdued, oppressed.
Was this the reward for their unexampled fidelity?
The Pharisee had kept his blood pure from all taint;
not a drop of foreign blood polluted the veins of the
Hebrew of the Hebrews, When Hellenism threatened
with self-indulgent philosophy to destroy the faith of
their fathers, the Pharisees had resisted, overwhelmed,
and driven it out. Josephus, himself a Pharisee, says
of them :
" Li their own idea they are the flower of the
nation and the most accurate observers of the Law."
And yet how had God neglected them! His conduct
was inexplicable and sadly mysterious. It was not
 ;

THE OUTLOOK. 163

in their power to keep their soil, nor even the holy

Temple, from the hated intrusion of the idolater's foot.
Their priesthood had been converted to the uses of
the detestable Romans. The high-priest, once ven-
erated, had become the creature of Iduma?an Herod.
For many hundreds of years before Herod's reign the
Jews had seen but one high-priest deposed. But from
the conquest of Jerusalem by Herod to its destruc-
tion under Titus, a period of one hundred and eight
years, twenty-eight high-priests had been nominated,
making an average term of but four years to each.
Rulers were filled with worldly ambition, and scribes
and were continually intriguing and quarrelling
priests
among themselves. Only so much of the distinctive
Jewish economy was left free as could be controlled
by unscrupulous politicians for the furtherance of their
own selfish ends. Pride and avarice were genuine
benevolence and devotion were simulated or openly
disowned.
It will be well to consider with some particularity
the three forms of religious development which existed
in the time of our Lord, — Ritualism, Rationalism, and
Asceticism, — as represented respectively by the Phari-
see, the Sadducee, and the Essene ; and it will l)e
especially necessary to ])e acquainted with the Phari-
sees, who were our Lord's chief and constant antago-
nists, whose habits furnished continual themes for his
discourses, and whose malign activity at length was
the chief cause of his death.
hi no such sense as liiat term conveys to us were
the IMiarisees an orgaui/e(I sect.' They rej)i-esented

' " It is the custom to contnist tlu> Pharisoi'5 with the Saddiicffs, as it"

thry were two opposite sects existing; in tlie inicist ot' the Jewi»li nation
 —

164 'J^ilE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

a tendency, and answered nearly to our phrase of

"High Church among the Episcopalians, by which we
"

do not mean a separate organization within that sect,

but only a mode or direction of thought and adminis-
tration.
In their origin and early functions the Pharisees
deserved well of their countrymen, and not so ill of
posterity as it has fjired with them. When the Jews
were carried to Babylon, so dependent had they al-
ways been upon the Temple and the organized priest-
hood, that, in the absence of these, their chief re-

ligious supports fell to the ground. The people, left

without teachers, exiled, surrounded by idolatrous
practices which tempted the passions of men with
peculiar fascination, were likely to forget the worship
of their fathers, and not only to lapse into idolatry,
but by intermarriages to be absorbed and to lose their
very nationality. It was therefore a generous and
patriotic impulse which inspired many of the more
earnestly religious Jews to separate themselves from
all foreign influences, and to keep alive the Jewish

and separated from the boily of the Jews. But neither the Sadducees nor
the Pharisees were seets in the common acceptation of the word, least of all
the latter. Taken at bottom, the nation was for the most part Pharisai-
cally minded in other words, the Pharisees were only the more important
;

and relijjjiously inclined men of the nation, who gave the most decided
expression to the prevailing belief, and strove to establish and enforce it by
a definite system of teaching and interpretation of the sacred- books. All
the priests who were not mere blunt, senseless instruments clung to the
Pharisaical belief All the Sephorim, or Scribes, were at thesame time
Pharisees ;and where they are spoken of side by side as two different
classes, by the latter (Pharisees) must be understood those who, without
belonging by calling or position to th«^ body of the learned, were yet zealous
in setting forth its principles, teachings, and practices, and surpassed others

in the example they gave of the most exact observance of the law."

Dbllinger's Tho Gentile and the Jew, (London, 1862,) Vol. II. pp. 304, 305.
 THE OUTLOOK. 165

spirit among their poor, ojjpres.sed countrymen. The

name Pharisee, in the Hebrew, signifies wie who is sepa-
rated. When first apphed, it meant a Jew who, accord-

ing to the Levitical Law, in captivity kept himself scru-

pulously separate from all defilements. Unfortunately,
the Pharisee sought worthy ends by an almost j^urely
external course. In this respect he is in contrast with
the English Puritan of the sixteenth century. Both
of them were intensely patriotic ; both set themselves
vigorously against the seductive refinements and jirtful

blandishments of their times. The English Puritan,

with a clear perception of moral truth, and with utter
faith in the power of inward and spiritual disposi-
tions, was inclined to sacrifice forms, ceremonies, and
symbols, as helps liable too easily to become hin-
drances, fixing the senses upon an externality, and
leading men away from simple spiritual truth. But
the early Jewish Puritan had nothing to work with
except the old Mosaic Law. lie sought to put that })e-
tween his countrymen and idolatry. By inciting them
to reverenceand to pride in their own Law he saved
them fiom apostasy, and kept alive in their memories
the history of their fathers and the love for their na-
tive land. And so far the labor of the Pharisee de-
served praise. But the Levitical Law required, in

the great change of circiinistances induced by tlic (';ij)-

tivity, a rc-;id;i])1;iti()ii. ;m(l. as new exigencies arose.

new interpretations. ( JiiKhiall}' the Pharisees became

ex]M)unders of the l^aw. Tlicy grew minute, technical,
literal. They sought for religion neither in tlie inune-
diatc insjiiration ofdod nor in nature, but in the books
of Moses anil ol" the Prophets. They were /ealons
for tradition and cei-enioUN The old landniai'k'^ wei'c
.
 —

166 'fflE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

sacred to them. Yet they oveilaid the simplicity of

the ancient Hebrew faith with an enormous mass of
pedantic, pragmatical details, that smothered the heart
and tormented the conscience of the devotee. Their
moral sense was drilled upon mere conventional quali-
ties. It had no intuition and no liberty. It became

the slave of the senses.

Little by little the work grew upon their hands.
Cases multiplied. Nice distinctions, exceptions, di-

visions, and subdivisions increased with an enormous

fecundity. The commentary smothered the text. The
interpreters were in thorough earnest ; but their con-
science ran to leaf and not to fruit. That befell the
Pharisees which sooner or later befalls all ritualists,

they fell into the idolatry of symbolism. The sym-

bol erelong absorbs into itself the idea which it was
sent to convey. The artificial sign grows fairer to the
senses than is the truth to the soul. Like manna,
symbols must be gathered fresh every day. The
Pharisee could not resist the inevitable tendency.
He heaped upon life such a mass of helps and guides,
such an endless profusion of minute duties, that no
sensitive conscience could endure the thrall. One class
of minds went into torment and bondage, of which
Paul gives an inimitable picture in the seventh chapter
of the Epistle to the Romans. Another class, harder
and more self-confident, conceived themselves obedient
to the whole round of dut}, and became conceited and
vainglorious
The Pharisees were sincere, but sincere in a way
that must destroy tenderness, devoutness, and benevo-
lence, and that must minister to conceit, hardness
of heart, and intolerant arrogance. No religion can
 THE OUTLOOK. 167

be true, and no worship can be useful, that does not

educate the understanding, kindle the aspirations, give
to the spiritual part a mastery over the senses, and
make man stronger, nobler, freer, and purer than it
found him. Religion proves its divinity by augment-
ing the power and contents of manhood. If it de-
stroys strengthunder the pretence of regulation, it
becomes a superstition and a tyranny.
The Pharisees had not escaped the influence of the
prevalent philosophies. Although they were working
away from the Hellenistic influence, they were indi-
rectly moulded by it. It was essentially in the re-
fining spirit of Greek philosophy that they interpreted
the old HebrcAV statutes. Not that they desired them
to be less Jewish. They sought to make them more
intensely national. The Greek spirit wrought in the
Jew to make him more intensely Jewish.
But Grecian influence had raised up another school,
that of the Sadducees. They were the Epicureans of
Judiea. It is probable that, unlike the Pharisees, the
Sadducees recognized the Grecian philosophy, and :ip-

plicd it to the interpretation of the Mosaic statutes.

They accepted the chief doctrine of the Epicurean
philosophy. They admitted the agency of God in
creation. They taught that things had a natuiv of
thcii- own. and that, al'ter being once created and set

going, they had need of no Divine interferemc in

tlie way of ])rovidential govcnnnent. Every man had

his tiite in liis own hands. Ilavinjji: or«!:ani/A'd the svs-
tern of nature. (Jod withdrew liiniself, h'a\inLi' men to

their own ahsolnte ficedoni. Ahin was liisown master.

lie was the author of his own good ami of wis own
evil, and holh the ^^innX and the evil the\ heliexcd
168 ^''/^' I"''- '^^' ./J:siJS, the (JtlRtST.

to be confined to this lil'e. Deutli ended the history.

There was to be no new life, no resurrection.
We are not to suppose that the Sadducees abandoned
the Jewish Scriptures for any form of Grecian philoso-
ph}^ They rejected all modern interpretations and
the
additions of the old Hebrew institutes. They pro-
fessed to hold to the literal construction and inter-
pretation of the sacred Scrijitures. They rejected all

tenets that were not found in Moses and the prophets.

This principle forced them to assume a negative phi-
losophy. They stuck to the letter of the Law, that
they might shake off the vast accumulations which it

had received at the hands of the Pharisees. But in

doin": this thev rendered themselves infidel to the
deepest moral convictions of their age. The spirit of
denial is essentially infidel. Belief is indispensable to
moral health, even if the tenets believed be artificial.

There is no reason to think that the Sadducees had

a deep religious life, or any positive convictions which
redeemed them from the danger attending a system of
negation. They were a priestly class, sceptical of the
truths which the best men of their age cherished.
Thus, while they were strict in their construction of
the text, they were liberal in doctrine. It was through
literalism that they sought liberalism. If their refusal
of the Pharisaic traditions and glosses had been for
the sake of introducing a larger spiritual element,
they would have deserved better of their countrymen.
As it was, they were not popular. They were not
the leaders of the masses, nor the representatives of
the popular belief, nor in sym])athy with the common
people. We can hardly regard them in any other
light than that of self-indulgent and ambitious men,
 THE OUTLOOK. 1(3 (j

using the national religion rather as a defence against

the charge of want of patriotism than from any moral
convictions. In short, they were thoroughly worldly,
selfish, and unlovely.
Although the name "
Essene " does not occur in the
New Testament, yet the sect existed in the time of
Christ, and probably exercised a considerable intiuence
upon the thought of many devout Jews. The Es-
senes observed the law of Moses with a rigor surpass-
ing that of any of their countrjanen. They, however,
rejected animal sacrifices. There seems to have been
among them an element of worship derived from the
Persians. They addressed petitions each morning to
the sun. They felt bound to refrain in word or act
from anything which could profane that luminary.
They kept the Sabbath even more rigorously than
the Pharisees. They prepared all their food the day
before. Not only would they kindle no fires on the
Sabbath, but they would suffer no vessel to be moved
from its place, nor would they satisfj^ on that day
any of their natural and necessary desires. They
lived in communities, very much aj)art iVoiu gciu'ial

society ; but this does not seem to have arisen so

much from an ascetic s])iiit as from the excessively
restrictive notions which they cherished on the matter
of legal ])urity. To the contaminations established
l)\' the Mosaic code, and all the additional ceremo-
nial im|)urities which the ritual zeal of the Pharisee
rendered imminent, they added others even more se-

vere. To touch an\ one not of his own onK-r defdetl

an Ksseiif. I']\cn an Ksseiie. if of a lower giade,

could not be louchetl without defdeiuent. Such j»ar-

ticularit\' could scncclx lail to work social seclusion.

170 I' 1 11'^ f^l^'''^ <^^* JKSUS, THE CHRIST.

Their meals were strictly sacrificial, and looked upon

as religious actions. Every one washed his wliole

hody before eating, and put on a clean linen gar-
ment, which was laid aside at the end of the meal.
The baker and the cook placed before each his mess,
and the priest then blessed the food, before which
none dared to taste a morsel.
They held their property in common so that the ;

temporary community of goods by the Christians, after

the Pentecostal day, was not a new or uncommon
act among the Jews. Marriage was forbidden. No
buying or selling was permitted among themselves.
They disallowed both slavery and war, neither would
they suffer any of their sect to forge warlike arms for
others. They were under the strictest subordination
to their own superiors, and implicit obedience was a
prime virtue. They maintained perfect silence in their
assemblies and during their repasts. Only adults were
taken into the brotherhood, and these were required
to undergo a probation of a year, and they then
entered but the lowest grade. Two years more were
required for full membership. The Essenes abhorred
pleasure. They were temperate in all things, — in
food, in the indulgence of their and in en-
passions,
joyments of every kind. In many respects they seem
to have resembled the modern Shakers.
The Sadducees, l)eing a priestly and aristocratic class,
were not disposed to take any office which would
impose trouble or care, and looked with indifference
or contempt upon the greater part of that which
passed for religion among the people. The Essenes
were small in numbers, their habits of life were se-
cluded, and they do not seem to have made any effort
 THE OUTLOOK. 171

at influencing the mind of the people at large. Only

the Pharisees took pains to instruct the people. And
we shall not iniderstand the atmosphere which sur-
rounded our Lord, if we do not take into consideration
the kind of teaching given hy them, and the national
feeling whichhad produced.
it

We are not to undervalue the real excellence of the

Mosaic institutes on account of the burdensome and
frivolous additions made to them during a long series
of interpretations and connnentaries. The institutes
of Moses inculcated a sound morality, a kind and
benevolent spirit, obedience to God, and reverence
for divine things. But as it was interpreted by the
Pharisees it disproportionately directed the attention
to external acts. The state of the heart was not
wholly neglected. Many excellent distinctions were
drawn, and wise maxims were given respecting purity
of thought and rectitude of motive. But the influ-
ence of a system depends, not upon few or many
truths scattered up and down in it, but upon the
accent and emphasis which is given to its different

parts. Paul bears witness that his countrymen had

a " zeal of God, but not according to knowledge."
Like men in a wrong road, the longer they toiled
the farther end sought.
they were from the Yet
they did not regard themselves as in the wrong. God
had given tlicm the \a\\\. 'I'iic most signal ])r()niises
followed ol)edience to that Law. They should over-
come all their enemies. They should become the
governors of those who now oppressed them. There-
foi-e obedience they addicssed (lieniselves with
to that
all their zeal and conscience. l..est they shonld fail nn-

wittiniflv, it was a maxim with them lliat tli»'\ should

172 TUE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

do even more than the Law required. And such was

the scrupulosity of the Pharisee, that he came to feel
that he did perfectly keep the Law, and therefore wait-
ed impatiently for the fulfilment of the Divine prom-
ises. It was a distinct bargahi. They were all looking

and waiting for the Messiah. When he should come,

he would give to the nation the long-needed leader.
All would unite in him. He would march at the head
of the whole population to expel the Romans, to re-
deem Jerusalem, to purify the Temple, to extend the
sway of the Jewish reUgion. They brooded over these
joyful prospects. Thus, they had their tests of Mes-
siahship. He must hate idolaters. He must have
the gift of leadership. He must represent the in-

tensest spirit of Jewish patriotism. He must aim to

make Israel the head and benefactor of all the nations

on earth.
It is plain could not meet such ex-
that Jesus
pectations. He must have known from the begin-
ning what reception his countrymen would give him,
should he at once announce himself as the Messiah;
and this will explain his silence, or the guarded pri-

vate utterance, in the beginning, as to his nature and

claims.
Unfavorable as was the religious aspect, the political
condition of Palestine was even worse. The nation
was in the stage preceding dissolution, — subdued by
the Romans, farmed out to court favorites, governed
by them with remorseless cruelty and avarice. The
fieryand fanatical patriotism of the Jew was continu-
ally bursting out into bloody insurrection. Without
great leaders, without any consistent and wise plan of
operations, these frequent and convulsive spasms of
 THE OUTLOOK. 173

misery were instantly repressed by the Romans with

incredible slaughter.

Even had been a part of the design of Je-

if it

sus to rescue the Jewish nation and perpetuate it, he

came too late. These frequent convulsions were the
expiring struggles of a doomed people. Already the
prophecies hung low over the city. Death was in
the very air. The remnant of the people was to be
scattered up and down in the earth, as the wind chases
autumnal leaves. Jesus stood alone. He was ap-
parently but a peasant mechanic. That which was
dearest to his heart men cared nothing for that which;

all men were eagerly pursuing was nothing to him.

He had no party, he could conciliate no interest. The

serpent of hatred was coiled and waiting and, though
;

it delayed to strike, the fang was there, ready and

venomous, as soon as his foot should tread upon it.

The were luxurious and self-indulgent.
rich The
learned were not wise they were
; vain of an im-
mense acquisition of infinitesimal fribbles. The igno-
rant people were besotted, the educated class was
corrupt, the government was foreign, the Temple was
in the hands of factious priests playing a game of
worldly ambition. Who was on liis side? At what
point should he begin his mission, and how ? Should
he stand in Jerusalem and preach? Should he enter
the Temple, and announce to the grand council his
true character?
was not the purpose of Jesus to ])rcseut him-
It
self to the nation with sudden or dianialic outburst.
There was to be a gi-a(hial unfoMing of his claims, of
the truth, and of his whole nature, in this n-spect he
174 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

conformed to the law of that world in which he was

infixed, and of that race with whose nature and con-
dition he had identified himself We shall find him,
in the beginning, joinhig- his ministry on to that of
John we .shall next see him taking up the religious
:

truths of the Old Testament which were common to

him and to the people, but cleansing them of their
grosser interpretations, and giving to them a spiritual
meaning not before suspected then we shall find a
:

silent change of manner, the language and the bearing

of one who knows himself to be Divine and finally, :

toward the close of his work, we shall see the full

disclosure of the truth, his equality with the Father,
his sacrificial relations to the Jews and to all the world ;

and in connection with this last fact we shall hear the

annunciation of that truth most repugnant to a Jew, a
suffenng Messiah.
Not only shall we find this law of progressive de-
velopment exemplified in a general way, but we shall
see it in each minor element. His own nature and
claims, implied rather than asserted at first, he taught
with an increasing emphasis and fulness of disclosure
to the end of his ministry. His doctrine of spiritual
life, as unfolded in the private discourses with his dis-
ciples just before his Passion, and recorded in the five
chapters beginning with the twelfth of John's Gospel,
are remarkable, not alonefor their spiritual depth
and but as showing how far his teachings had
fervor,
by that time gone beyond the Sermon on the Mount.
The earlier and later teachings are in contrast, not in
respect to relative perfection, but in the order of de-
velopment. Both are perfect, but one as a germ and
the other as its blossom. Jesus observed in all his
 THE OUTLOOK. 175

ministry that law of growth which he affirmed in re-

spect to the kingdom of Heaven. It is a seed, said he,

the smallest of all seeds when sown, but when it is

grown it is a tree. At another time he distinguished

the very stages of growth :
" First the blade, then
the ear, after that the full corn in the ear." (Mark
iv. 28.)
We are then to look for this unfolding process in
the teachings of Jesus. We
him gathering shall find
up the threads of morality, already partly woven into
the moral consciousness of his time ; we shall see how
in his hands morality assumed a higher type, and was
made to spring from nobler motives. Then we shall
find the intimations of an interior and spiritual life

expanding and filling a larger sphere of thought, until

in the full radiance of his later teachings it dazzles
the eyes of his disciples and transcends their spiritual
capacity.
In like manner the divinity of Christ's own nature
and was not made prominent at first but gradu-
office ;

ally it grew into notice, until during tlie last half-year

it assumed the air of sovereignty. In nothing is this
so strikingly shown as in the teaching of his own
personal relations to all true spiritual life in every
individual. It is sublime when God declares himself
to be the fountain of life. Itwould be insufiera))le
an'ogance in a uiere man. But by every form ol" as-
sertion, with incessant repetition, Jesus taught witli

growing intensity as liis death drew near, that in

him. and oidy in hiiu. were tlie sources of s]Hritual

life. " Come unto me," " Leai'u of inc." •'
Abide in

nu\" ••
Without me ye can do notiiing." And yet. in
the midst of sueli incessant assertions of himself, lie
176 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE ciIRrST.

declared, and all the world lias conceded it, "I am

meek and lowly in heart."
There was a corresponding development in his criti'
cism of the prevailing religious life, and in the attacks
which he made upon the ruling classes. His miracles,
too, assumed a higher type from period to period;
and, although we cannot draw a line at the precise
periods of transition, yet no one can fail to mark how
much deeper was the moral significance of the mira-
cles wrought in the last few months of his life, than
that of those in the opening of his career. We are
not to look, then, for a ministry blazing forth at the
beginning in its full effulgence. We are to see Jesus,
without signals or ostentation, taking up John's teach-
ing, and beginning to preach, " Repent, for the king-
dom of heaven is at hand " ; we are to wait for further
disclosures issuing naturally and gradually, in an as-
cending series. The whole life of Jesus was a true
and normal growth. His ministry did not come like
an orb, round and shining, perfect and full, at the
first: it was a regular and symmetrical development.

True, it differed from all other and ordinary human

growths, in that no part of his teaching was false or
crude. was partial, but never erroneous. The first
It

enunciations were as absolutely true as the last but ;

he unfolded rudimentary truths in an order and in

forms suitable for their propagation upon the human
understanding.
It is in these views that we shall find a solution of

the seeming want of plan in the life of Jesus. There

is no element in it which answers to our ordinary
idea of a prearranged campaign. He knew that he
was a sower of seed, and not the reaper. It was of
 THE OUTLOOK. 177

more importance that he should produce a powerful

spiritual impression, than that he should give an or-
ganized form to his followers. It was better that he
should develop the germs of a Divine spiritual life,

than that he should work any immediate change in

the forms of society.
The Mosaic institutes had aimed at a spiritual
life in man by building up around him restraining

influences, acting thus upon the soul from the out-

side. Jesus transferred the seat of action to the
soul itself, and rendered it capable of self-control.
Others had sought to overcome and put down the ap-
petites and passions ; Jesus, by developing new forces
in the soul and giving Divine excitement to the spir-
itual nature, regulated the passions and harmonized
them with the moral ends of life. When once the
soul derived its highest stimulus from God, it might
safely be trusted to develop all its lower forces, which,
by subordination, became auxiliary. Jesus sought to
develop a whole and perfect manhood, nothing lost,
nothing in excess. He neither repelled nor underval-
ued secular thrift, social morality, civil order, nor the
fruits of an intellectual and aesthetic culture ; he did
not la])or directly for these, but struck fartlier back at

a potential but as yet undisclosed nature in iiinn. wbidi

if aroused and l)i'()iight into a uoniial and vital i-clation

witli tlie Divine soul would give to all the earlier de-
velojied and lower elements of man's nature a more
coni|)lete control than had ever before been found, and
would so lertili/.e and IVuctifv llie w little natiu'e that
the outward life would have no need of special ])al-
tei'iis. (;hil<lren act from rules. Men act iVoin |)iin-

ciples. A time will eonie when ihey will act from

178 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

intuitions, and right and wrong in the famihar matters

of Ufe will be determined by the agreement or dis-

agreement of things with the moral sensibility, as

music and beauty in art already are first felt, and
afterwards reasoned upon and analyzed.
If this be a true rendering of Christ's method, it will
be apparent that all theories which imply that any out^
ward forms of society, or special elements of art and
industry, or the organization of a church, or the purifi-
cation of the household, or any other special and de-
terminate external act or order of events or institu-
tions, were parts of his plan, will fail in appreciating
the one grand distinctive fact, namely, that it was
a psychological kingdom that he came to found. He
aimed not to construct a new system of morals or
of philosophy, but a new with new capabilities,
soul,
under new spiritual influences. Of course an outward
lifeand form would be developed from this inspiration.
Men would still need governments, institutions, cus-
toms. But with a regulated and reinforced nature
they could be safely left to evolve these from their
own reason and experience. As much as ever, there
would be need of states, churches, schools. But for
none of these need any pattern be given. They were
left to be developed freely, as experience should

dictate. Government is inevitable. It is a univer-

sal constitutional necessity in man. There was no
more need of providing for that, than of providing
for sleep or for breathing. Life, if fully developed

and left free to choose, will find its way to all neces-
sary outward forms, in government, in society, and in
industrj'.
Therefore they utterly misconceive the genius of
 THE OUTLOOK. 179

Christ's work who suppose that he aimed at the estab-

lishment of an organized cliurch. Beyond the inci-
dental commands to his disciples to draw together and
maintain intimate social no special or dis-
life, there is

tinctive provision for church organization. That was

left to itself As after events have shown, the tendency
to organize was already too strong. Religion has been
imprisoned in its own institutions. Perhaps the most
extraordinary contrast ever known to history is that
which between the genius of the Gospels and the
exists
pompous claims of church hierarchies. Christians made
haste to repeat the mistakes of the Hebrews. Religion
ran rank to outwardness. The fruit, hidden by the
enormous growth of leaves, could not ripen. Spiritu-
ality died of ecclesiasticism. If the Church has been
the nurse, it has also been often the destroyer of
religion.
If Jesus came to found a church, never were actions
so at variance with purposes. There are no recorded
instructions to this end. He remained in the full com-
munion of the Jewish Church to the last. Nor did his
disciples or apostles dream of leaving the church of
their fathers. They went up with their countrymen,
at the great festivals, to Jerusalem. They resorted to
the Temple for worshi]). They attempted to develop
their new life wilhiii the old forms. Little by lit tit-.

and slowly, they learned l)v experience that new wine

could not be ke])t in old bottles. The new life re-
quired and round better conditions, a freer conscience,
fewer lilies, more lilierty. Vov ii short ])ei-io(i the eii-

franehised soul, in its new j)r()niised hiiid. shone forth

with <rreat trlorN' ; but then, like the fathers of old.

believers lell hack IVoia liberty to superstition, and

180 'rilE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

for a thousand years have been in captivity to spir-

itual Babylon.
The captivity is drawing to a close. The Jerusa-
lem of the Spirit is descending, adorned as a bride
for the bridegroom. The new life in God is gath-
ering disciples. They are finding each other. Not
disdaining outward helps, they are learning that the
Spirit alone is essential. All creeds, churches, institu-
tions, customs, ordinances, are but steps upon which
the Christian plants his foot, that they may help him
to ascend to the perfect liberty in Christ Jesus.
 THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. \^l

CHAPTER TX.

THE HOUSEHOLD GATE.

If one considers that, after his experience in the

wilderness, Jesus seems for a period of some months
to have returned to private life, — that he neither went
to the Temple in Jerusalem, nor appeared before the
religious teachers of his people, nor even apparently
entered the Holy City, but abruptly departed to Gali-
lee, — it may seem as if he had no plan of pro-
cedure, but waited until events should open the way
into his ministry.
But what if it was his purpose to refuse all public
life in our sense of that term ? What if he meant to
remain a private citizen, working as one friend would
with another, eschewing the roads of influence already
laid out, and going back to that simple personal power
which one heart has upon another in genial and friend-
ly contact ?

His power was to be, not witli whole coiiiiiimiitics,

but witli tlic iiidividuMl. — from ni;m to man ; and it

Wits to spring, not from any machinery of institution

wielded by man, nor from ollicial j)ositiou. but from
his own peisoual nature, and fiom the intrinsic force
of truth to be uttered. At the very be«^innin'^ and
throuirh his whole career, we sball fuiii Jesus clintrin*;

to private life, or to public life only in its transient

and s])()ntaneoiis (leveloj)nieMts out of private lil'e. He
 —

182 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

taught from house to house. He never went among

crowds. They gathered about him, and dissolved
again after he had passed on. The pul^hc roadside,
the synagogues, the princely mansion, the Temple, the
boat by the sea-shore, the poor man's cottage, were all

alike mere incidents, the accidents of time and place,

and not in any manner things to be depended upon
for influence. He was not an elder or a ruler in the
synagogue, nor a scribe or a priest, but strictly a
private citizen. He was in his own simple self the
whole power.

The first step of Jesus in his ministry is a return

home to his mother. This is not to be looked at mere-
ly as a matter of sentiment ; it is characteristic of the
new dispensation which he came to inaugurate.
In the spiritual order that was now to be introduced
there were to be no ranks and classes, no public and
official life as distinguished from private and personal.
The Church was to be a household men were to be ;

brethren, " members one of another." God was made

known as the Father, magisterial in love.
Had Jesus separated himself from the common life,

even by assuming the garb and place of an authorized

teacher, had he affiliated with the Temple officers, had
he been in any way connected with a hierarchy, his
course would have been at variance with one aim of his
mission. It was the private life of the world to which
be came. His own personal life, his home life, his famil-
iar association with men, his social intercourse, formed
his true public career. He was not to break in upon
the world with the boisterous energy of warriors,
"He shall not strive nor cry"; nor was he to seek,
 THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 183

after the manner of ambitious orators, to dazzle the

people, — " His voice shall not be heard in the streets."

Without pressing unduly prophecy of the Messiah,

this
it may be said that it discriminates between an ambi-

tious and noisy career, and a ministry that was to move

among men with gentleness, affability, sympathy, and
loving humility.
We shall lose an essential characteristic of both his
disposition and his dispensation, if w^e accustom our-
selves to think of Jesus as a public man, in our sense
of official eminence. We are to look for him among
the common scenes of daily life, not distinguished in
any way from the people about him, except in supe-
rior wisdom and goodness. It is true that he often
stood in public places, but only as any other Jew
might have done. Pie was never set apart in any
manner after the usages of the priesthood. He came
back from artificial arrangements to nature. There is

great significance in the title by which he almost inva-

riably spoke of hhnself, — "the Son of Man." By this
title he emphasized his mission. He had descended
from God. He was born of woman, had joined himself
to the human family, and meant to cleave fast to his
kindred. To one conscious of his own Divinity, the
title "Son of Man" becomes very significant of tbt^

value which he placed upon his union with mankind.

His personal and intimate connection with the great
body of the people, beginning with liis early years,
was continued to the end.
It is not strange, then, liiat Jesus began his active
ministry witli a return IVoin the scene of his tcin|itati()n

to his former home. lie did not ])aus(> at Nazareth, but

either went with his mother or lollowed her to ('ana,
184 THE lAFK OF JESUS, THE CI/ HIST.

where <a wedding was to take place. There were two

Canas, — one now called Kefr Kenna, a small village
about four miles and a half northeast of Nazareth, and
Kana-el-Jelil, about nine miles north of Nazareth and ;

the best authorities leave it still uncertain in which

the first miracle of our Lord was performed. It may
be interesting, but it is not important, to determine the
question.
The appearance of Jesus at the wedding, and his ac-
tive participation in the festivities, are full of meaning.
It is highly improbable that John the Baptist could
have been persuaded to appear at such a service.
For he lived apart from the scenes of common life, was
solitary, and even severe. His followers would have
been strongly inclined to fall in with the philosophy
nd practices of the Essenes. If so, the simple pleas-
Ui '3 and the ordinary occupations of common life would
be regarded as inconsistent with religion. Jesus had
just returned from John's presence. He had passed
through the ordeal of solitude and the temptation of
the wilderness. He had gathered three or four dis-
ciples, and was taking the first steps in his early career.

That the very first act should be an attendance, with

his disciples, by invitation, at a Jewish wedding, which
was seldom less than three and usually of seven days'
duration, and was conducted with most joyful fes-
tivities, cannot but be regarded as a significant tes-
timony.
The Hebrews were led by their religious institutions
to the cultivation of social and joyous habits. Their
great religious feasts were celebrated with some days
of solemnity, but with more of festivity such as would
seem to our colder manners almost like dissipation.
 THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 185

In all nations the wedding of young people calls forth

sympathy. Among the Hebrews, from the earliest

times, nuptial occasionswere celebrated with rejoicings,
in which the whole community took some part.
The scene comes before us clearly. The bride-
groom's house, or his father's, is the centre of festivity.
The bride and groom spend the day separately in se-
clusion, in confession of sin and rites of purgation. As
evening draws near, the friends and relatives of the
bride bring her fortli from her parents' house in full
bridal apparel, with myrtle vines and garlands of flowers
about her head. Torches precede the company music;

breaks out on every side. Besides the instruments

provided for the processions, songs greet them along the
way; for the street is lined with virgins, who yield to
the fair candidate that honor which they hope in time
for themselves. They cast flowers before her, and little

cakes and roasted ears of wheat. The street resounds

with gayety and as the band draws near the appointed
;

dwelhnjJi:, the bridegroom and his friends come forth

to meet the bride and to conduct her into the house.

After some legal settlements have been perfected, and
the marriage service has been performed, a sumptuous
feast is provided, and the utmost joy and meniment
reign. Nor do the festivities terminate with the im-
mediate feast. A whole week is devoted to rejoicing
and gayety.
It must not l)e imagined, however, that such |)r()-
longed social enjoyment «l('genei-ated into dissipation.
In liixinioiis cities, am! csjjecially aftei" conimcict' and
wcaltii had hrouii'lit in lorcign manners, tlie gro.s.sest

excesses came to prevail at great feasts; l)nt the

connnon people among the old Hebrews were, in the
186 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

main, temperate and abstinent. That almost epidemic

drunkenness which in modern times has prevailed
among Teutonic races, in cold climates, was unknown
to the great body of the Hebrew nation.
The sobriety and vigorous industry of the society
in which we have been educated indisposes us to sym-
pathize with such expenditure of time for social pur-
poses as was common among the Hebrews. We spare
a single day at long intervals, and then hasten back
to our tasks as if escaping from an evil. Weddings
among the poorest Jews, aswe have said, seldom ab-
sorbed less than three days. The ordinary term of
conviviality was seven days. Among men of wealth or
eminent station, the genial service not unfrequently
extended to fourteen days. During this time, neigh-
bors came and went. Those from a distance tarried
both day and night. The time was filled up with
entertainments suitable to the condition of the various
classes. The young employed the cool hours with
dances. The aged quietly looked on, or held tranquil
converse apart from the crowd. Nor was intellectual
provision wanting. Readings and addresses were then
unknown. In a land where philosophy was as yet only
a collection of striking proverbs or ingenious enigmas,
it was deemed an intellectual exercise to propound
riddles and "-dark sayings," and to call forth the exer-
cise of the imagination in giving solutions. These oc-
casions were not devoted, then, to a mere riot of merry-
making. They were the meetings of long-dispersed
friends, the gathering-points of connected families ; in

the absence of facilities for frequent intercourse, the

seven days of a wedding feast would serve as a means
of intercommunion and the renewal of friendships ; and
 THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 187

it w^ peculiarly after the genius of the Hebrew people

that both religion and social intercourse should take
place with the accompaniments of abundant eating and
drinking. The table was loaded with provisions, the
best that the means of the parties could supply nor ;

was it imusual for the guests also to contribute to the

common stock.
There is no reason to presume that the wedding at
Cana was of less duration than the common period of
seven days and it may be assumed, in the absence
;

of evidence to the contrary, that Jesus remained to the

end. It has been surmised that it was a near connec-
tion of his mother who was the host upon this occasion.
However that may be, she was actively engaged in the
management of the feast, kept herself informed of the
state of the provisions, sought to replenish them when
they were expended, and assumed familiar authority
over the servants, who appear to have obeyed her
implicitl^^
Nothing could well be a greater violation of the
spirit of his people, and less worthy of him, than

the supposition that Jesus walked among the joyous

guests with a cold or disapproving eye, or that he lield

liimself aloofand was wrapped in his own nu'ditatious.

His whole shows that liis soul went out in sym-

life

pathy with the human hfe around him. His manners

were so agreeable and attractive that all classes of nu>n
instinctively drew near to him. It needs not that we

imagine him breaking forth into rll'ulgent gayety; l)Ut

that he looked upon the happiness arouml him with
smiles it would l)e wrong to donht. There ai'e some
whose very smile cari'ies hene(Helion. ami whose eye
yheds perpetual happiness.
188 ^/'^ ^^'/''^ OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

But Jesus was not simply a genial guest. He had

chosen the occasion for the display of his first miracle.
It would seem that more guests had come to the wed-
ding than had been provided for, drawn, perhaps, from
day to day, in increasing numbers, by the presence of
Jesus. The wine gave out. The scene as recorded
by John is not without its remarkable features. The
air of Mary in applying to her son seems to point

either to some previous conversation, or to the knowl-

edge on her part that he possessed extraordinary
powers, and that he might be expected to exercise
them.
" They have no [more] wine."
Jesus said unto her, " Woman, what have I to do
with thee ? mine hour is not yet come."
Interpreted according to the impression which such
language would make were it employed thus abruptly

in our day, this reply must be admitted to be not only

a refusal of his mother's request, but a rebuke as well,
and in language hardly less than harsh. But inter-
preted through the impression which it produced upon
his mother, it was neither a refusal nor a rebuke for ;

she acted as one who had asked and obtained a favor.

She turned at once to the servants, with the command,
" Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." This is not
the language of one who felt rebuked, but of one
whose request had been granted.
In houses of any pretension it was customary to
make provision for the numerous washings, both of
the peison and of vessels, which the Pharisaic usages
required. (Mark vii. 4.) In this instance there were
six large water- vessels, holding two or three firkins
apiece. The six '•'•
water-pots of stone," therefore, had
 THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 189

a capacity of about one hundred and twenty-six gal-

lons.^

These vessels were filled with water, and at the will

of the Lord the water became wine. When the master
of the feast tasted it, it proved so much superior to the
former supply as to call forth his commendation. The
quantity of wine has excited some criticism ; but it

should be borne in mind that in Palestine, where light

wines were so generally a part of the common drink,
four barrels of wine would not seem a supply so ex-
traordinary as it does to people in non-wine-growing
countries, who have been accustomed to see fiery wines,
and at high prices. It must also be
in small quantities
remembered that the company was large, or else the
provision would not have given out, and that it was
without doubt to be yet larger from day to day, the
miracle itself tending to bring together all the neigh-
borhood. It is to be considered also that wine, unlike
bread, is not perishable, but grows better with age ; so
that, had the quantity been far greater than their pres-
ent need, it would not be wasted. On the other hand,
' The term " firkin," in our English version, is the Greek metretes, corre-
sponding, according to Josephus, to the Hebrew hath. Tlie Attic metretes
held « gallons and 7.4 pints. The water-vessels are said in the Gospel to
have held between two and three firkins, or metretes, a])iere, which would
be somewhere between 17 and 25 gallons. Calling it 21 gallons, six of them
would be 126 gallons. The writer in Smith's Bible Dictionary places the
(juantity at 110 gallons; but Wordsworth gives 136. Tlie lowest I'stimate
which we have seen puts it at (!0 gallons, but the weight of authority places
it as in the text.
It has been rcmarkcil, that tlie fact that these vessels were exclusively
appropriated to wat»'r, anil never used lor holding wine, will pri'vent the
slipping over this miracle by saying that wine was .ilreaily in the vessels,
and that water was oidy added to it. The (juantity, too, made it imjws-
sihle that it should have been wrought in an underhandcil and collusive

maiuuT. It is the very firet of a long series of miracles, ami one of the mo.xt
indisputable.
190 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

there were reasons why the supply should be gen-

erous. The wine had once given out. The strange
supply said to every one, There can be no second fail-

ure. Abundance goes with power wherever the Divine

hand works.
That the wine created by our Lord answered to the
fermented wine of the country would never have been
doubted, if the exigencies of a modern and most benefi-
cent reformation had not created a strong but unwise
disposition to do aw^ay with the undoubted example of
our Lord. But though the motive was good, and the
effort most ingeniously and plausibly carried out, the
result has failed to satisfy the best scholars and it is ;

the almost universal conviction of those competent to

form a judgment, that our Lord did both make and
use wines which answer to the fermented wines of the
present day in Palestine.^
' The editors of the Conrircgational Revieio, No. 54, pp. 398, 399, in a
review of Communion Wine and Bible Temperance, by Rev. William M.
Thayer, published by the National Temperance Society, 1869, use the
following language :
—
" We respect the ]\Ir. Thayer, and do not question his sincerity.
zeal of
But we have gone over the arguments he has reproduced we have con- ;

sidered his so-called evidence, which has so often done duty in its narrow
range we have pondered the discussions of Lees, Nott, Ritchie, and Duf-
;

field, before him what is more, we have gone over the Greek and Hebrew
;

Scriptures carefully for ourselves ; have sifted the testimony of travellers

who knew, and those who did not know ; have corresponded with mission-
aries and conferred with Jewish Rabbis on this subject; and if there is any-
thing in Biblical literature on which we can speak confidently, we have no
doubt that Dr. Laurie is right and that Rev. Mr. Thayer is wrong." (Mr.
Thayer's book is an attempt to show that there are two kinds of wine
spoken of in the Bible, one of which is intoxicating and the other not.)
" In these views we are thoroughly supported. If we mistake not, the

Biblical scholarship of Andover, Princeton, Newton, Chicago, and New

Haven, as well as Smith's Bible Dictionary and Kitto's Biblical Cyclopaedia,
is with us. One of the most learned and devout scholars of the country
recently said to us:.' None but a third-rate scholar adopts the view that
 THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 191

Drunkenness has prevailed in all ages and in all

countries, but it has been the vice of particular races
far more than of others. In the earlier periods of
the world, all moral remedial influences were rela-
tively weak. With the progressive development of
man we have learned to throw off evils by ways
'

which were scarcely practicable in early days. So it

has been with the sin of drunkenness. Christian men
proposed, some half a century ago, voluntarily to ab-
stain from the use, as a diet or as a luxury, of all
that can intoxicate. A revolution of public sentiment
gradually followed in respect to the drinking usages of
society. This abstinence has been urged upon various
grounds. Upon the intrinsic nature of all alcoholic
stimulants temperance men have been divided in opin-
ion, some taking the extreme ground that alcohol is
a poison, no less when developed by fermentation and
remaining in chemical com]:)ination than when by dis-
tillation it exists in separation and concentration, —a
statement in which some physiologists of note have
concurred. But these views have never won favor witli

the great body of physiologists, and the more recent in-

vestigators are farther from admitting them than tlieir

predecessors. Yet it is certain that the discussions and

investigations have destroyed, it may be liojx'd I'oivver,
the extravagant notions which have prevailed in nil

countries as to tbe ])enefits of wine and strong drinks.

It is admitted tbat they are always injurious to uumy
constitutions, tbat they are medically useful in f;ir less

the Hil)Ii' (lcs( rilics two kinds of wine.'" TIic nioral iirpninrnf for toin|H'r-
ance is valid, ami sudicicnt. Dnnlitriil spccidatiims in [ihihdo^^y (>n;,dit not
to Im! introdncL'd into a cansc in wliirli the pnliiic widliirt' is so dt-oply con-
cerned.
102 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

decrees and in fewer instances than hitherto has been

supposed, and that to ordinary persons in good health
they are not needful, adding neither any strength nor
any vitality which could not be far better attained by
wholesome food and suitable rest.
A would be gained in the advo-
certain advantage
cacy of total abstinence if it could be shown that any
use of wine is a sin against one's oAvn nature. But
the moral power of example is immeasurably greater
if those who hold that wine and its colleagues are not

unwholesome when used sparingly shall yet, as a free-

will offering to the weak, cheerfully refrain from their

use. To relinquish a wrong is praiseworthy but to ;

yield up a personal right for benevolent purposes is

far more admirable.
Since the coming of Christ there have not been
many spectacles of greater moral impressiveness than
the example of millions of Christian men, in both hemi-
spheres, cheerfully and enthusiastically giving up the
use of intoxicating drink, that by their example they
might restrain or win those who were in danger of
ruinous temptation. If in any age or nation the evil

of intemperance is not general nor urgent, the entire

abstinence from wine may be wise for peculiar individ-
uals, but it can have no general moral influence, since
the conditions would be wanting which called for self-

sacrifice.

Had Jesus, living in our time, beheld the wide waste

and wretchedness arising from inordinate appetites,
can any one doubt on which side he would be found ?
Was not his whole life a superlative giving up of his
own riffhts for the benefit of the fallen ? Did he not
teach that customs, institutions, and laws must yield to
 THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 193

the inherent sacredness of man ? In his own age he

ate and drank as his countrjnnen did, judging it to
be safe to do so. But this is not a condemnation of
the course of those who, in other lands and under
different circumstances, wholly abstain from wine and
strong drink, for their own good and for the good of
others. The same action has a different moral sig-
and circumstances. Jesus
nificance in different periods
followed the harmless custom of his country when, ;

in another age and country, the same custom had be-

come mischievous, would he have allowed it ? " All
things are lawful unto me, but all things are not expe-
dient." (1 Cor. vi. 12.) "It is good neither to eat
flesh, nor to drink wine, nor anything whereby thy
brother .... is made weak." (Rom. xiv. 21.)
The example of Christ beyond all question settles

the doctrine, that, if abstinence from wine is practised,

it must be a voluntary act, a cheerful surrender of a
thing not necessarily in itself harmful, for the sake of a
true benevolence to others. But if it be an extreme
to wrest the example of Christ in favor of the total-
abstinence theories of modern society, it is a yet more
dangerous one to employ his example as a shield and
justification of the drinking usages wliich have proved
the greatest curse ever known to man. Nor can we
d()iil)t that a voluntary abstinence from all that intoxi-

cates, as a diet or a luxury, by all persons in health,

for moral reasons, is in accordance with the very spirit
of the gospel. The extraordinary benefits whicli liave
accompanied jind rollowiMl the tenijx'iance cetornialion
marlv it as one of the great victories ol" Christ ianity.

The scenes at ('ana are especially gratcliil to us jus

194 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

disclosing the inward feeling of Jesus respecting social

life, as well as the peculiar genius of Christianity.
He began his mission to others by going home to his
mother. The household was his first temple the :

opening of a wedded life engaged his first sympathy,

find the promotion of social and domestic happiness
was the inspiration of his first miracle. We are espe-
cially struck with his direct production of enjoyment.
In marked contrast with the spirit of many of the
reigning moral philosophers, who desj)ised pleasure,
Christ sought it as a thing essentially good. Recog-
nizing the truth that goodness and virtue are the
sources of continuous liappiness, Jesus taught that
gladness is one of the factors of virtue, and none the
less so because sorrow is another, each of them play-
ing around the forms and events of practical life as do

light and shadow in a picture. Far more important

than we are apt to consider among the secondary in-
fluences which have maintained Christianity itself in
this world, in spite of the corruption of its doctrines
and the horrible cruelty of its advocates, has been its
subtile and indestructible s^'uipathy both with suffer-
ing and with joy. It sounds the depths of the one, and
rises to the height of the other. Its power has never

lain in its intellectual elements, but in its command of

that nature which lies back of all philosophy or voliui-
tary activity. It breathes the breath of the Almighty
upon the elements of the soid, and again order and life
spring from darkness and chaos.
Through the household, as through a gate, Jesus en-
tered upon his ministry of love. Ever since, the Chris-
tian home has been the refuge of true religion. Here
it has had its purest altars, its best teachers, and a hfe
 THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 195

of self-denying love in all gladness, which is consti-

tuted a perpetual memorial of the nourishing love of
God, and a symbol of the great mystery of sacrifice by
which love perpetually lays down its life for others.
The religion of the Synagogue, of the Temple, and of
the Church would have perished long ago but for the
ministry of the household. It was fit that a ministry
of love should begin at home. It was fit, too, that love

should develop joy. Joyful love inspires sell-denial,

and keeps sorrow wholesome. Love civilizes conscience,
refines the passions, and restrains them. The bright
and joyful opening of Christ's ministry has been gen-
erally lost sight of The darkness of the last great
tragedy has thrown back its shadow upon the morning
hour of his life. His course was rounded out, like a
perfect day. began with the calmness and dewiness
It
of a morning, it came to its noon with fervor and
labor, it ended in twilight and darkness, but rose again
without cloud, unsetting and innnortal.
For two years Jesus pursued his ministry in his o\\t\
Galilee, among scenes familiar to his childhood, every-
where performing the most joyful work which is pos-
sible to this world, — that of bringing men out of
trouble, of inspiring hunger for truthand righteous-
ness, of cheering tlic bopelcss and desponding, be-
sides works of mercy, almost without number, directed
to the relief of tlie pbysical condition of tbe ])oorand
neglected.
The few disci])les who ii;i(i a<'coni|)aiiie(l Jesus, and
wei'e with him ;it the iiinrriage. wei'e (hiiwu to hiui by
that uiiraele with i-euewe(| :i(huirat ion. Tiie hands that

at first held ihcm to their Master must have lu'en sliglit.

Being rude, uuh'ttered men, accustomed to live by

 :

196 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

their senses only, they were not yet quahfied to go

without important external adjuvants. As there was
no organization, no school or party, no separate religious
forms, but only this one peasant prophet, lately a me-
chanic, whose words and bearing had greatly fascinated
them, Avas to be expected that they would soon de-
it

spond and doubt if something tangible were not given

them and this miracle answered their need. The effect
;

produced on their minds was thought worthy of record

" And his disciples believed on him." Of all the re-
maining crowd of guests, of the host and his household,
of the bridal pair and their gay companions, nothing
is said. Probably the miracle was the wonder of the
hour, and then passed with the compliments and con-
gratulations of the occasion into the happy haze of
memory, in which ^particulars are lost, and only a pleas-
ing mist overhangs the too soon receding past.
But seems certain that all of the innnediate
it

household of Jesus were brought for a time under

his influence. For when, soon after these events, he
went down to Capernaum, upon the northwestern coast
of the Sea of Galilee, all went with him, " he, and —
his mother, and his brethren, and his disciples." (John
ii. 12.) Nothing is disclosed of the object of this
visit, or of his occupation while there. It is not
impro])able, though it is but a supposition, that he
had formerly plied his trade in Capernaum, while
he was yet living by manual labor. After he was
rejected and treated with brutal ignominy by his
own townsmen of Nazareth, he made Capernaum his
home. It is probable that his mother, sister, and
brethren removed thither, and had there a house to
which Jesus resorted as to a home when he was in
 THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 197

Capernaum.'^ It is believed that it was a city of con-

siderable population and importance. It was always
called a ''
city," had its synagogue, in which Jesus often
taught, was a Roman garrison town and a customs sta-
tion. It is was on the lake shore, near
probable that it

the city, that Jesus saw and called Simon Peter and his
brother Andrew, while they were "mending their nets."
Matthew —
who resided there, was a publican, and was
sunnnoned by the Lord from this odious occupation to
discipleship — says, with perhaps a little pride, speak-
ing of Capernaum :
" And he entered into a ship, and
passed over, and came into his oim citi/." Here too he
healed the demoniac (Mark i. 21-28), cured the cen-
turion's servant (Luke vii. 1), the paralytic (Mark ii. 3),
and the man with an imclean devil (Mark i. 23, Luke
iv. 33), and raised Jairus's daughter (Mark v. 22). It
was here that the nobleman's son lay when in Cana
the healing word went forth which restored him. It
was at Capernaum that, when tribute was demanded
of him, he sent Peter to find in a fish's mouth the piece
of money required (Matt. xvii. 24). Here be healed
Peter's wife's mother, who "lay sick of a fever and '
;

Tristram, in arguing for the site of Capernaum at the

"Round Fountain," remarks that fevers are prevalent
there to this day. It was in or near this city that
many of (jur Lord's most striking parables wvw ut-

tered, —
"the sower," "the tares," "tlie goodly ])i'arls,"
"the net cast into the sea," and, notably. " the Si'rmon
on the Mount." It was in Ca])ei"nauni that he dis-
coursed on fasting (Matt. ix. lO). and exposed the
' Grove says, in Smith's Bible Dlcliotiari/, that thf phrase in Mark ii. 1.

*•
in thi- honse," has in tlu' Grock thi' force of "at hunif." So, in ino<h'rn

lanpiapi's, the French a la mni^on, the German zh HniLst , the Italian alia

easa, etc.
198 'flil'^ LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

frivolous customs and vain traditions of the Pharisees

(Matt. XV. Here also occurred the remarkable
1, etc.).

discussion recorded by John only (John vi. 22-71),

and the discourse upon humility, with a "little child"
for the text (Mark ix. 33-50).
Jerusalem is more intimately associated with the
solemn close of Christ's life, but no place seems to
have had so much of his time, discourse, and mira-
cles as Capernaum. And yet nowhere was he less
successful in winning the people to a spiritual life,
or even to any considerable attention, save the tran-
sient enthusiasm excited by a miracle. The intense
cry of sorrow uttered by Jesus over Jerusalem has its
counterpart in his righteous indignation over the city
by the sea " And thou, Capernaum, which art ex-
:

alted unto heaven, shalt be brought down to hell ; for

ifthe mighty works which have been done in thee had
been done in Sodom, it would have remained until
this day It shall be more tolerable for the land

of Sodom, in the day of judgment, than for thee."

(Matt. xi. 23, 24.) Even if Jesus wrought miracles at
this first visit to Capernaum, immediately after the
wedding scene at Cana, no record or notice of them
appears in the narrative, except that, afterward, when
he was in Nazareth, lie heard, doubtless, the whisper-
ings and taunts of his impudent townsmen, and re-
plied :
" Ye will surely say unto me this proverb,
Physician, heal thyself: whatsoever we have heard
done in Capernaum do also here in thy country." We
may infer, then, that the whole country was full of
the rumor of his miracles during his brief stay on this
Capernaum.
his earliest visit to
Although the woes denounced against "his own
 THE HOUSEHOLD GATE. 199

city" were designed to reach its citizens rather than

the streets and dwelhngs of the city itself, yet they
seem to have overflowed and fallen with crushing
weight upon the very stones of the town. The plain
of Genesareth and the Sea of Galilee are still therv3,
as when Christ made them familiar by his daily foot-
steps along their border. But the cities, they are —
utterly perished ! Among several heaps of shapeless
stonesupon the northeast coast of the Sea of Galilee,
for hundreds of years, geographers and antiquaries
have groped and dug in vain. Which was Bethesda,
which Chorazin or Capernaum, no one can tell to this
day. Not Sodom, under the waters of i\\Q Dead Sea;,
is more lost to sight than the guilty cities of that other
plain, Genesareth.

"And they continued there not many days." The

Passover being at hand, Jesus went to Jerusalem, and
there next we must see him and hear his voice.
200 ^'^^' ^^^^^ ^^' J£6 us. TUB CniilST.

CHAPTER X.

THE FIRST JUD^AN MINISTRY.

Twelve tribes settled Palestine and a narrow strip

of territory east of the river Jordaii. The tribal spirit

was strong. Had there been no provision for keeping

up a common national life, the Israelites would have
been liable to all the evils of a narrow and obstinate
provincial spirit. There were neither schools to pro-
mote intelligence nor books to feed it. Modern na-
tions, through the newspapers and swift tracts, keep
their people conversant with the same ideas at the
same time. Every week sees the millions of this con-
tinent thinkino; and talkino; of the same events, and
discussing the same policies or interests. But no such
provision for a common popular education was pos-
sible in Palestine.
The same however, was sought by the great
result,
Lawgiver of the Desert by means of a circulation of
the people Three times in each year
themselves.
every male inhabitant of the land who was not legally
impure, or hindered by infirmity or sickness, was com-
manded to appear in Jerusalem, and for a week to
engage in the solemn or joyful services of the Tem-
ple. The great occasions were the Passover, the
Pentecost, and the Feast of Tabernacles. It is proba-
ble that the first and last of these were borrowed
from celebrations already existing among other nations
 V3^,.

:%rifid^": S^
 THE FIRST JUD^AN ^f^NISTRY. 201

of antiquity, and primarily had reference to the course

of nature. The seasons of seed-sowing and harvesting
would naturally furnish points for religious and social
festivals. We still retain a vestige of these festivals
in themelancholy Fast-day of New England and in the
Thanksgiving-day of the nation so that these simple ;

primitive observances of the vernal and autumnal posi-

tions of the sun seem likely to outlive all more elab-
orate institutions. But if Moses borrowed festivals
already in vogue, it is certain that he gave new asso-
ciations to them by making them commemorate cer-
tain great events in the history of the Israelites.
The feast of the Passover was kept in remembrance
of the safety of the Jews on that awful night when
Jehovah smote the first-born of every family in Egypt,
but passed over the dwellings of his own people, and
forbade the angel of death to strike any of their
households. The event itself marked an epoch in Jew-
ish history. The secondar}- benefits of its celebration,
however, were primary in moral importance. To be
taken away from home and sordid cares; to ))e thiown
into a mighty stream of pilgrims that moved on iVom
every quarter to Jerusalem; to see one's own comitiy-
men from every part of Palestine, and witli tliem to
oflerthe same sacrifices, in tlie same jjlace. by a
conunon ministration to utter the sanu'
; |)s;ibiis, and
mingle in the same festivities, — could not but pro-
duce a civilizin*:: inlluence far strontj-er than would re-
suit from such a course in modern times, when society
has so luucli hetler means of iMJiieiit ing its peo|ile.

Itwas not I'ar IVoiu the tiuu' of the Passover that

Jesus went to ('apeiiiaiuu, and his stay there was ap-
parently shortened \\y his desire to be In .leiusalem
1>02 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Jit this solemn iestiviil. Already he beheld among his.

countrymen preparations for the journey. Pilgrims

were passing through Capernaum. The great road
along the western shore of the Lake of Genesareth
was filled with groups of men going toward Jerusalem.
Probably Jesus joined himself to the company ; nor can
any one who has noticed and affectionate
his cheerful
disposition doubt that he exerted upon his chance com-
panions that winning influence which so generally
brought men about him in admiring familiarity.
If he pursued the route east of the Jordan, crossing
again near the scene of his baptism, and ascending by
the way of Jericho and Bethany, he approached Jeru-
salem from the east. From this quarter Jerusalem
breaks upon the eye with a beauty which it has not
when seen from any other direction. At this time,,

too, he would behold swarming with people, not the

city only, but all its neighborhood. Although it was
the custom of all pious Jews to entertain their country-
men at the great feasts, yet no city could hold the
numbers. The fields were white with tents. The hills
round about were covered as with an encamped army.
Josephus says that at the Passover A. D. 65, there were
three million Jews in attendance, and that in the reign
of Nero there were on one occasion two million seven
hundred thousand and even greater numbers have
;

been recorded. But if the half of these were present,

it is plain that the whole region around Jerusalem,

together with near villages, must have been over full.

Right before him, as he came over the Mount of

Temple, whose foundations rose
Olives, shone forth the
sheer from the precipitous rocks on the eastern side
of Jerusalem, and whose white marble summits gUt-
 THE FIRST JUDJSAN MINISTRY. 203

tered in the sun higher than the highest objects in

the city itself.

We should dismiss from our minds all preconcep

tions of the appearance of the renowned Temple
whether based upon classic temjiles or ii])on moderr-
cathedrals or churches. It resembled none of them,
but stood by itself, without parallel or likeness either
in structure or method, as it certainly stood alon«
among all temples in its wonderful uses. It was
not so much a building as a system of structures; one
quadrangle within another, the second standing upon
higher ground than the outermost, and the Temple
proper upon a position highest of all, and forming the
architectural climax of beauty, as it certainly stood
highest in moral sacredness. The Temple of Solomon
was originally upon the rocky heights on the east
built
side of Jerusjdem, and was separated from the city by a
deep ravine. The heights not affording sufficient room
for all the outbuildings, the royal architect l)uilt up
a wall from the valley below and filled in the enclosed
space with earth. Other additions continued to be
made, until, when Herod had finished the last Temple.
— that one which shone out upon Jesus and the pil-
<z:rims comiu": over the Mount of Olives, the whole —
space, including the tower of Antonia, occu])ied about
nineteen aci-es. The Temple, then, was not a single
building, like the Grecian leni|)Ies or like modern
cathedr;ds, but a system of concenti'ic enclosnres or
courts, — a kind ol" sacerdotal citadel, ol" wiiieh the
Tem))le ])roper, though the most splendid part of it,

and lilted high ahoxc all the rest, was in sj)aee an«l

hulk but a small part. In a])proachiug the sacred

mount, the Jew first entereil the outei court, called
204 'J^HE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the Court of the Gentiles, not because it was set apart

for them, but because Gentiles, rigorously excluded
from every other portion of the Temple enclosures,
were permitted, with all others^ to enter there. This
outer quadrangle, taken separately from the residue
of the Temple system, was remarkable for its magni-
tude, its magnificence, md the variety of its uses.
Although its walls were elevated, yet, standing upon
a lower level, they did not hide the interior courts,
with their walls, gates, and adornments. On the in-
ner side of the walls of this outer court extended
porticos or cloisters with double rows of white marble
Corinthian columns. The ceiling was flat, finished
with cedar, and nearly forty feet in height above the
floor. But these were quite eclipsed by the
cloisters
magnificence of the Stoa Basilica, or Royal Porch, on
the south side. It consisted of a nave and two aisles,

six hundred feet in length, formed by four rows of

white marble columns, forty columns in each row.
The breadtli of the central space was forty-five feet,
and its height one hundred. The side spaces were
thirty feet wide and fifty in height. This impressive
building was unlike any other, in that it was wholly
open on the side toward the Temple it was connected ;

with the city and the king's palace by a bridge thrown

across the ravine. This vast arcade was a grand resort
for all persons of leisure who repaired to the Temple,
a kind of ecclesiastical Exchange, somewhat analogous
to the Grecian Agora or the Roman Forum a place ;

of general resort for public, literary, or professional

business. Some it were appropriated to syna-
parts of
gogical purposes. was here that Jesus was accus-
It

tomed to teach the people and to hold discourse with

 q

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Mllili NORTH CLOISTER

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COURT OF THE GENTILES

,J(jy)Mtja.JI..B.B.g .B..H A..a- O- B M..IIM.»,M 9

<
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"CLOISTErt' '^

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JUJUUkA^U^U " l^^&Ui^^hA^UdUy

SOUTH.
I'l.AN ANI> >l < ri«>N Ml III. TKMI'I.K.
 THE FIRST JUD^AN MINISTRY. 205

the Scribes and Pharisees ; and here, too, the early

Christians,who did not consider themselves as broken
off'from the Jewish Church or debarred from the
rights and privileges of the Temple, used to assemble
for conversation and worship.
Although the cathedral-like aisles of Herod's Stoa
Basilica,on the south side, were the most magnificent
part of the Court of the Gentiles, yet on all its sides
stood spacious colonnades or cloisters, and next within
was an open court paved with stones of various cohjrs.
Still farther inside of this open court one came to a

low marble partition, beautifully carved, and bearing

the warning, in several languages, that it was death
for any Gentile beyond it. Paul was accused
to pass
of having taken Greeks beyond it (Acts xxi. 28). By
bearing in mind this screen, we shall understand tlie
force and beauty of Paul's argument that Christ had
" broken down the middle wall of partition between
1
us."

A
few yards beyond this screen of exclusion, one
ascended by a series of steps to the next enclosuie or

' " But now, i!i Christ Jesus, ye, who sonietinK-s •vvorc far otV, are made iii>;h

l)y the blood of Christ. our peace, wlio hath made both out-, and
For he is

liatli broken down the middle wall of ])artition between us having alx)l- ;

ishcd ill liis flesh the enmity, t'vcn the law of commandments contained in
ordinances for to make in himself of twain one new man, so making peace
: ;

and that he might reconcile both unto (Jod in one body by the cross, having
shiin the enmity thereby and came and preached peace to you which were
:

afar off and to them that were nigh. For through him wc both have access
by one Spirit unto the Fatlier. Now therefore ye are no more strangers
and ff)reigners, but fcllow-<-iti/,ens with the saints, an<l of tlic household of
CJod : ami are built ujton the foundation of the apostles and proplicts. .lesus

Christ himself being the chief corner-stone; in whom all the building, fitly

framed together, growctli unto an holy temple in the Lonl : in whr>m ye

also arr biiilded tngctlicr, for an liabitatii)n of (Jotl tliroiigli the Spirit."

(Kph. ii. l.t-22.)

206 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

quadrangle, which was twenty-two feet above the level

of the Court of the Gentiles. This court was again
subdivided into the Coiu't of the Israelites and the
Court of the Women. The Temple stood in still an-
other and a higher portion of this court, and was
approached through a gate upon which had been
lavished every element of architectural beauty; and
it was which was called Beaufiful
this gate, probably,
(Acts iii. 2). The walls and the gateways were so built
as to furnish numerous apartments for the officers of
the Temple, for the priests and their retinue. In the
Court of the Israelites and the Court of the Women
were the various tables and utensils in use for sacri-
ficial purposes. Within the Gate Beautiful stood the
altar, and beyond that the Temple proper, in the fonn

of an inverted T (i), comprising a portico, the sanc-

tuary, and the Holy of Holies. The main portions
of the Temple, it is believed, were of the same
dimensions and upon the very foundations of Solo-
mon's Temple. But it is supposed that, while the
internal space remained the same, the external pro-
portions were much increased, and that the wings of
the facade were extended, so that the length of the
Temple and the width of its front or facade were each
one hundred feet.
A general knowledge of the structure of the Temple
is indispensable to those who would study either the

history of Jesus or that of his countrymen. One may

know far more of Athens, her Acropolis left out, of
Rome without its Forum or Capitol, than of Jerusalem
without its Without that the city would
Temple.
have hardly any significance left. The Temple was at
once the brain and the heart of the nation. It was
 THE FIRST JUDJEAN MINISTRY. 207

the university and chief house of the learned men and

priests, and gave to Palestine a centre of orthodoxy.
Through the Temple circulated the whole people in its

great annual visitations, and then, like blood that has

been aerated, it carried back new life to every ex-
tremity of the land.
With what feelings Jesus looked upon the Temple
as he drew near to Jerusalem can only be surmised.
It might seem as though his Divine soul would per-
ceive little of use in the cumbrous ritual which he
had come to abrogate. As he looked over from the
Mount of Olives upon the encircling walls and battle-
ments, the ascending rows of towers, arches, and gate-
ways, and the pure white Temple glittering high in
the air above all, covdd he fail to contrast the outward
beauty with the interior desecration? But it does not
follow on that account that he felt little interest. On
another occasion, when lie looked from the same place
over upon the whole city of Jerusalem, whose long
and wearisome criminid history rose before his mind,
he did not any the less experience a profound affection
for the city, even wdiile pronouncing its doom. In like
manner he might have looked upon the Temple, and,
though conscious of its gross unspirituality, he might
have yet experienced a profound S}anpathy for it, con-
sidei-ed in its whole past history, in its intent, and as

the focus to which so many noble hearts had through

ages converged. At any rate, he is soon found with-
in it, and his first recorded act of authority took place
in the Temple.
seems to us very strange that moiu\v-brokers. cattle,
It
sheep, and doves should he found in the Teui|)le. and
that trallickiug shoidd go on in that sacred pla<-e, if l>y
208 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

this temi we bring before our minds the true and in-
nermost Temple. But these transactions took place
in the lower and outer court, and probably at the
western portion of the Court of the Gentiles.
Thousands of Jews must have come every year to
Jerusalem without being in circumstances to bring
with them the appropriate offerings. For their con-
venience, doves, sheep, and oxen were provided and
held for sale, at first, probably, in the vicinity of the
Temple enclosure. Little by little they intruded upon
the space within, until they made it their head-quar-
ters without rebuke.
This custom was less repulsive, probably, to the Jews
than it would be to us, because the whole Temple
was used in a manner that would utterly shock the
sensibility of men educated in Christian churches.
Thousands and hundreds of thousands of sheep, every
Passover, as well as at every Pentecost and every Feast
of Tabernacles, were borne into the Temple and car-
ried or driven into the Court of the Priests, and there
slain, the blood being caught by the priests in bowls

and dashed upon the altar. Hour after hour, the whole
day long, the spectacle continued. The secret chan-
nels down through the rocks, toward the king's gar-
den, gurgled with blood.
was blood, blood, blood
It ;

nor can a modern man imagine how it could be

other than intolerably shocking. We cannot con-
ceive how even fjimiliarity would abate the repulsive-
ness of an altar incessantly flowing with blood, and of
pavements and walls dripping with the same.
But the tolerant custom of herding cattle and sheep
in the outer court of the Temple, the place where the

people gathered and talked, where discussions and

/'
 THE FIRST JUDuEAN MINISTRY. 209

discourses went on, had doubtless become so much

abused that portions of the court had become almost
a corral, or cattle-yard.
In this court, too, brokers had congregated to ex-
change foreign coin for the shekel of the sanctuary, in
which only could the Jew pay the Temple tax. The
images on imperial coins savored of idolatry. The
devout Jew, drawing near to the Temple, fdled with
pious associations, would find his meditations rudely
broken in upon by lowing herds and bleating flocks, by
the haggling of money-changers and the chink of their
coin. If, as is suspected, the traffic was winked at by

the Temple familiars because they were participants of

the profits, it was all the more improper. Many deco-
rous Jews would be scandalized at the growing evil,
but what could they do ?
On the first day of the Passover, or perhaps on the
day before, when the herds of cattle were likely to be
most in the way, the nuisance was suddenly abated.
Without parley or leave asked, Jesus drove out the
motley herd. It must have been one of those supreme
moments, wliich came so often to him afterwai'ds, when
no one could stand before his gaze. Go hence and I

with a Avhip of small cords he drove out the lowing

and l)leiiting creatures, and tlieir owners hastened
after tlicm no one seemed to resist him. lie over-
;

threw till' inoncy-cliangi'rs' tables, and seut the coin

ringing over the marble })avemeMts. "Take these
things hence! Make not my Father's hoiiso an house
"
of merchaiidise !

The only connnent made l)y the Kvangelist John is

in these words: "And his disciples remembt'red that

it was written, The zeal of thy house hath eaieu me
u
210 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

up." But why should this passage have occurred to

them, unless his manner had been full of energy, and
his voice so terrible that the avaricious hucksters,
though assailed in privileges permitted by the Temple
officers, dared not resist ? The fact itself, and the com-
mentary which the Evangelist adds, make it plain that
there was in the comitenance of Jesus, and in his man-
ner, that Avhich men did not choose to confront.
Nothing can better show how superior Christ was
to the narrow prejudices of the Jews against all for-
eign people. A heathen was an abomination. The
only part of the Temple to which the Gentile could
approach was this court. Jews did not care that cat-

tle and money-brokers turned the court into a vast

and noisy bazaar or market they could pass on, and
;

in the higher interior courts be free from all molesta-

tion. It was only the Gentile that suffered from this
perversion of the great outer court of the Temple.
The cleansing of this place was not only an act of hu-
manity to the Gentiles, but may be regarded as the
sign and precursor of the mercy of Christ to the whole
world, Jew or Gentile.
Even if the rulers of the Temple were not spectators
of this scene, the story must have soon come to their
ears. There seems to have been no anger excited.
Among the Jews there was singular toleration for
any one upon whom came "the Spirit of the Lord."
Besides, deeper than every other feeling, stronger
even than avarice, ambition, and pride, or perhaps as
the fullest expression of them all, was the longing for
that Messiah who was to end their national degrada-
tion, exalt them to supremac}^, and avenge upon the
heathen double for all their sufferings. In spite of all
 THE FIRST JUD^AN MINISTRY. 211

their worldliness, or rather a remarkable feature of it,

was this undying watchfuhiess for the Divine inter-

position in their behalf And when any person of
remarkable gifts appeared, as in the case of John the
Baptist, and in the earlier periods of Jesus's ministry,
all eyes were turned upon him, and in anxious sus-
pense they waited for evidence that he was the prom-
ised Deliverer. There is something inexpressibly sad
in the sight of a proud nation resenting an oppression
which it could not resist, and carrying an unextin-
guished longing, night and day, for a promised cham-
pion, who was, in the sense expected, never to come.
It was not in displeasure, but rather in eager ex-
pectancy, that the officers put the question, " What
sign showest thou unto us, seeing thou doest such
things ? " It was only another form of saying, as they
did afterwards, ''
If thou be the Christ, tell us plainly."
Jesus had taken things into his own hands, had re-

voked tlie permission which they had given to the

traffickers, and for the moment he was tiie one person
in supreme authority there. That he was not seized,

ejected from the Temple, or even slain, shows that the

rulers hoped something fi-om tliis new-comer who pos-
sessed such power of command.
Jesus replied, " Destroy this temple, and in three
days T will raise it up." The Jews, taking his auswiT
literally, wnc stumbled :it the boast inij)ru'(l. - Forty
and six yc;irs w;is this 'rciiipic in building. ;iud wilt
thou i-(';ir it ii|> in tliicc days'" 'i'hc Evangelist John
adds, " iJut he spake of the temple of his body."
it is not strange that he should i(leutif\ himself with
tlie 'i'einple. for Jesus boi'e the same relation to the

new dispensation which the 'I'eniple did to the old.

212 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

What the visible altar and sanctuary were to ritual

worship, that his heart was to spiritual worship. It

is not the only instance in which Christ suggests a

comparison between himself and the Temple. When
defending himself against the charge of Sabbath-
breaking, he refers to the blamelessness of the priests,
though working on the Sabbath in the Temple. " But
I say unto you, that in this place is one greater than
the Temple." (Matt. xii. 6.)
There has been much perplexity among commen-
tators at this reply, which on its ftice meant one thing,
and really meant another. But Jesus did not intend
to have them penetrate the hidden meaning. Then
why answer at all? The mood in which the officers
evidently were would not brook a defiant silence. The
Jews were fanatically inflammable in all matters relat-
ing to the Temple. Without prudence or calculation
of the result, they would throw themselves headlong
upon Roman soldiers, or upon any others, who seemed
to put contempt upon the holy place they were like
;

hornets, who, when their nest is touched, dash with

fiery courage upon the intruder, and that without
regard to the certainty of their own destruction. The
answer of Jesus, while it could not have seemed dis-
respectfid, must have left them in suspense as to
whether he was boasting, or whether he was claim-
ing Divine power. had the effect designed, at any
It

rate. The great liberty which Jesus had taken was

allowed to pass without rebuke or violence, and he
had avoided a public declaration of his Messiahship,
which at that period would have been imprudent,
whether the rulers accepted or rejected him. His
time had not yet come.
 THE FIRST .WDA:AN MINISTRY. 213

But was this baffling reply such a one as we

should expect from a sincere and frank nature ? The
answer to this question will require us to consider
for a moment the method of discourse which Christ
adopted. No one ever taught with more transparent
simplicity and directness. Much of his teaching reads
like the Book of Proverbs, of which the
Sermon on the
Mount, as given by Matthew, is a good instance. At
times he employed an argumentative or logical style,
as in the discussions with the Jews recorded by John.
He likewise taught by pictures; for such are his ex-
quisite little fables, as the Greeks would have called
them, and which we style parables. But Jesus ex-
plicitly declared to his disciples, that, for wise purposes,

he often employed an outward form to hide within it a

meaning which they were not yet prepared to accept.
The outward form, therefore, acted the part of the
lobes of a seed. They first preserve the germ till

planting time, and then supply its food until it has

roots of its own. We hear Jesus explicitly saying
(Matt. xiii. JO -16) that he taught in unintelligible
forms.
But we are to consider that among the Oiicnlals,
and especially among the Jews, this was considcrt'd as
the liiixhest form of iiist met ion. It was the dcliiilit of

])liilosopliy 1o express itself in enigmas, paradoxes. j)ar-

ables. and excii in riddles. Friendly arguments were

not so much an anay of facts and i-easonings. as tlie

pro])Osing and the interpreting of dark sayings. In

l^roverbs the phlJu-oplH-r is thus described :

••
.\ wise

man will hear, and will increase learning; and a man

of understanding shall attain unto wisi' counsels: to

understand a proverb, and the interpretation ;

the
214 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

words of the wise, and their dark sayings." (Prov. i.

5, 6.) A "dark saying" was simply a truth locked
up in a figure, hidden within a parable, in such a way
as to stir the imagination and provoke the reason to
search it out. The real design was not to conceal
the truth, but, by exciting curiosity, to put men upon
the search for it. (Ps. xlix. 4 ; Dan. viii. 23.) Such
a method of instruction easily degenerated into a
mere contest of puzzles and riddles. But we see it

m its noblest form in the teaching of Jesus, where,

though often used with w^onderful skill to foil the craft
and malice of his antagonists, it never failed to carry
within it some profound moral truth.
The crucifixion of Christ was to be the first step in
the destruction of the Temple. The blow aimed at
Christ would shatter the altar. All this lay before the
mind of Jesus. His reply was a rebound of thought
from the physical and the present to the invisible and
spiritual. was meant neither as an explanation nor
It
as a prophecy it was rather a soliloquy
;
" Destroy :

this Temple, and in three days I will raise it again."

Enigmatical to them and puzzhng to commentators
ever since, it would seem quite natural to one who
looked at the spiritual as well as the temporal relations
of all events and physical fiicts. He did not mean to
speak definitely, either of his own death or of the
end of the Levitical system.
This answer conforms to Christ's habit of speaking,
not to the thing suggesting, but to the ulterior truths
suggested. A note being sounded, he took its octave.
Witness the scene (John xii. 20-26) where his disci-

ples tellhim that certain Greeks desire to see him.

He replies " The hour is come that the Son of Man
:
 THE FIRST JUD^AN MINISTRY. 215

should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you.

Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die,
it but if it die, it bringeth forth much
abideth alone ;

fruit."There never was a greater enthusiasm for him

among the whole community than at that moment.
Even foreigners were infected. When told of this, he
answers not to the outside fact, but to the inward
vision.
In this light, his reply to the rulers in the Temple,
if obscure to them, confomis to his habits of thought
and speech. As they understood his reply, it must
have seemed extravagant. No wonder they said, "For-
ty and six years was this Temple in building, and wilt
thou rear it up in three days?" The Temple proper
had been completed in a year and a half after it was
begun. But portions of the courts and various ad-
juncts had been forty-six years in hand, and, indeed,
the work was still going on.
During this Passover, Jesus became the centre of
attraction. He both wrought miracles and taught,
and no inconsiderable number were dis])osed to join
him. But he saw that it was only an outward ex-
citement, and had no root in moral conviction. He
would not, therefore, draw tlieni out. nor put hinisi'lf
at their head. There is evidence that his ministry
])roduced an effect among the most tlioughtful of the
Pharisees. It was doubtless a matter of conlereiice in

the Sanhedrim and of conversation among such Jews

as liad (Icej) spiritual longings. Indeed, as soon as tiie

night extricated Jesus from the crowd, and gave liini

leisure for extended conversation, one of tlu' noblest

among the Pharisees, a ruler too, came to him.

That one luckless [)hrasc, ••

lt\ uiLiht." has >ciit down
2l6 T^fJf' f^J^F: OF jE.'sus, nil-: cnmsT.

to us the name of «an honest and courageous Jew as

one too timid to come openly, and who therefore
souo;ht to steal an interview under the cover of dark-
ness, so as to avoid responsibility. There is not in
the history of Nicodemus a single fact to justify such
an imputation on his moral courage, except the single
phrase that he came " by night." He appears but
three times in the history, and every one of these
occasions shows a calm, earnest, thoughtful man, un-
demonstrative, but firm and courageous.
Is it the part of timidity that he, though an emi- —
nent man, a member of the Sanhedrim, a Pharisee,
with a reputation to sustain, — after witnessing Christ's
works and listening came before all
to his teaching,
others the first to seek instruction ? The night was
chosen simply because then Jesus was no longer amid
an excited multitude. The crowd was gone. He was
free for protracted conference. When would a dis-

tressed soul, in our day, seek advice, — when the

preacher was speaking in the full congregation, or
afterward, when he could be found home, and at
at
leisure to consider a single case ? Nicodemus came in
the true hour for converse. He came by night but ;

he was the only one of all his fellows that came at all.

The next scene which Nicodemus appears is near

in

the close of Christ's ministry. The rulers had become

desperate. His death was resolved upon. It was now
only a matter of hesitation how to compass it. In
full council the Sanhedrim sat, waiting for Jesus to

be arrested and brought before them. The ofiicers

brought word that they were overawed by his bearing
and his teaching. The Pharisees were enraged. They
inquired whether any of their own party were going
 THE FIRST JUDjEAN MINISTRY. 217

Over to liiiu. They cursed the common people as

stupid and ignorant, and they reviled the delinquent
officers. Was this the place and time in which a
timid man would confront the whole official power
of his people ? And yet one man in that coimcil
bravely spoke out, —
"Doth our law judge any man
before it hear him, and know what he doetli ? " That
man was Nicodemus.
He appears yet once more. It was after the cruci-
fixion. All hope was over. The were over-
disciples
awed, confounded, and scattered. There was not a
man left in Jerusalem who would now think it pru-
dent to identify himself with a lost cause ; it coukl
help nothing and would compromise the actor. Joseph
of Arimathea begged of Pilate the body of Jesus for
honorable burial. "And there came also Nicodemus
(which at the first came to Jesus by night), mid
brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about an hun-
dred pound weight." Of Jose})h, the Evangelist John
says expressly that he was " a disciple of Jesus, but
secretly, for fear of the Jews." (John xix. 38, 39.)

But not an intimation of this kind is made against

Nicodemus. The phrase is ouly, "he tliat came to
Jesus by night "
; and agaiu, " which at the first came
to Jesus by night."
Just such lucii as Peter aud Nicodeuuis we have
around us now. The one was eager and ()vertk)wing.

the other calm and undemonstrative. In Peter, im-

pulse was strongest; in Nicodemus. reflection. PetiT,

rash and lieiulslrong. was conrused l»y real ])eril ;

Nico-

deuuis, cautious at the heginning. grew lirnuT ;ind

bolder as diHicidties (levelope(l danger.
This interview between Jesus and Nicodemus is pro-
218 'i'HE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

foundly interesting from the revelation which it gives

of the character of the better men among the Pharisees,
and also of the spiritual condition of the sincere and
devout Jews. It is besides remarkable for the first

disclosure made of the distinctive doctrines of the new

life then about to dawn. Nicodemus saluted Christ as
if he were a Jewish rabbi, and confessed the effect
wrought upon his mind by the sight of his miracles,
but asked no questions. Jesus, striking at once to the
heart of the matter, answered not his Avords nor even
his thoughts, but his unconscious spiritual needs " Ex- :

cept a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom

of God." That such a man as Nicodemus should take
this as a literal physical re-birth gives surprising evi-
dence of the externality of his religious knowledge.
He had not the fjiintest sense of the difference be-
tween external righteousness and internal holiness.
He did not even understand enough of spirituality
to accept the figure employed by Christ ;ind he ;

needed, like a child, to have it explained that not

a physical, but a moral, re-birth was meant.
" That which is born of the flesh is flesh ;

That which is born of the Spirit is spirit."

This is the root. In these words Jesus gave the

fundamental philosophy of religion. Man is born
into the material world with all those powers which
are required for his physical and social well-being,
but within him lie dormant the o:erms of a Divine

nature. These can be developed only by the Spirit

of God ; but when evolved they change the whole
nature, give to man a new horizon, new force, scope,
and vision. He will live thenceforth by a different
class of faculties. Before, he lived by the forces
 —

THE FIRST JUDA:AN MINISTRY. 219

which nature developed through the senses. He was

mainly a physical being. Afterwards, he will live
through the forces developed by the Spirit of God,
— forces whose rudiments existed before, but whose
growth and full power demand the energy and fire of
the Divine soul. Like an exotic plant in a temper-
ate zone, the soul without God bears only leaves.
For blossoms and fruit there must be tropical heat
and light, that we may '• bring forth fruit unto God."
Thus, in his very first recorded conversation, as
clearly as at the end of his ministry, Jesus set forth
the new era to wdiich the soul of man was approach-
ing. The conversation as recorded has an uncon-
scious dramatic element. An eminent Pharisee, whose
life has been spent in attaining perfection, and who,
in his own opinion, has almost reached it, Ijut has
not found satisfaction of his heart-hunger, is told that
his whole life-work has been in a wrong direction,
he must begin anew. Like one who has gone upon
a wrong I'oad. he has been carried In' every step away
IVoui his goal. lie has sought moral perfectness by
rigorous disci])liue in external things. He must re-
verse the process, and reinforce the soul.
In the order of time, man develo])s from the si'jisu-

ous towards ihc >j)irit iial. Ibit in the order of ])o\V('i'

and of sc'll-government, that which is last must become

first. The s])irit must be formal and fdiccl by the Di-
vine soul. It is then ins|)irr(l. A new foice is de-
vcdo|)e(l. A eonllict ensnes. 'I'he s])irit strixctli against

the tiesh. and the llesli Insleth against the spirit. P>nl

the whole moral nalnre is icinvigorated. It \\a< be-

come open and sensitive to trnlhs and inlbienees w hieh
before it did not perceive noi- fe •!.
220 '^fJE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Of course the whole conversation of the two is not

recorded. Hours woukl not suffice, when once the
soul had found its Master, to bring him into all the
dark and troubled places within, where there had been
sorrow and trouble of soul. The stars still rose and
set; but Nicodemus had found his new heaven and
the o-uidino; star of his future life. He marvelled.
Nor did hiswonder cease as his Master, step by step,
unfolded the new life and the supremacy of the spirit-
ual over the carnal. As Jesus with indistinct lines
sketched his own history, his death, the life-giving
power of faith in him, it may be supposed that his
listener heard only, but did not understand.
We are concerned with this earliest discourse of
Jesus, because its philosophy underlies the whole
question of religion. It has two astonishing originali-
ties. Men may stop suddenly in a career of evil, and
be born again. The Ethiopian change his skin,
maf/
and the leopard his spots ! There is a power before
which even habit cannot stand. It also reveals that
a whole new development of spiritual life is possible
to every one. Those inspirations which before have
glanced upon a few, which have been the privilege of
genius, are now to become a free gift to all. The
Holy Ghost is to carry a flood of light and energy to
every soul that is willing.
A crisis had come in the world's psychology. Rea-
son was to receive a higher development, adding to
the senses the power of faith. Faith, which is reason
inspired to intuitions of supersensuous truth, (not a
blind credulity, but a new light, a higher reason, acting
in a sphere above matter,) was thereafter to become
developed into a stature and power of which the past
had given but hints and glimpses.
 THE FIRST JUD^AN MINISTRY. 221

Jesus remained in Judaea from April to December,

or, as some think, till January. Nothing can more
forcibly show how far the Gospels are from a close
biography than the fact that this period, at the very
opening of his public ministry, is not mentioned by
Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Avho do not even give an
account of this visit to Jerusalem while John, from ;

whom we derive all our knowledge of this visit,

leaves the next four months, though the first months
of the Saviour's public ministry, without a record.
" After these things came Jesus and his disciples
into the land of Judiea." But they were already in
Jerusalem : it is therefore evident that they went
out of the city into the adjacent parts, probably into
the northeast of Judaea. But even of that we are un-
certain. " And there he tarried with them, and bap-
tized." It is added
not said where he baptized. It is

that John " was baptizing in ^Enon, because there was

much water there." But where vEnon w\as hardly
any two investigators agree, —
whether it was on the
Jordan, or at certain copious springs, the source of a
stream on its western side. It is not said that Jesus
was near John. All is left to conjecture. It is quite
certain that a period of from four to six nioiitlis elapsed
between liis h'aving CajxMiiaum for the Passover at
Jerusalem and his return to Galik^e. Even of his

doings tliere is no hint, except only of his baptizing;

and tliis was not performed by himself, l)ut by tlie

bauds of his disciples. During these I'oiu" or fi\t'
nu)ntlis oecuire(l the other annual feasts of the .lew-
ish year, — the Pentecost ami the Feast of 'rai)er-
nach's. It is scarc(dy possible hut tliat Jesus, being
near to Jerusalem, and hahitualh observant of the
222 '^It^ LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

national customs, was present on these occasions in

Jerusalem. Yet no mention is made of it. Nor is

it said that he preached at all, or taught, or wrought

a single miracle and yet it is scarcely supposable

;

that, after having entered on his ministry, he should

leave so many months utterly blank. It has been sug-
gested by Andrews that during this period may have
begun his acquaintance with the family of Lazarus,
which afterward constituted so remarkable a feature
of his history, and was the occasion of a miracle which
gave the last impulse to the zeal of his opponents,
leading to his arrest and death.
If this reticence of the Evangelists arises from their
peculiarly un-literary and non-historic genius, it is not
unbecoming There was never
to the nature of Jesus.
so impersonal a person as he. Although to an extraor-
dinary degree full of outward life and action, yet there
was something in the elevation of his nature which
abstracts our thoughts from the outward form of his
life. As in the presence of a great picture we forget
the canvas, the paint, and the brush, and think only
of the events and objects themselves ; so Jesus leaves
upon our minds the impression not of the journeys, the
acts, the words even, but of the temper, the nobility
of soul, the universal truths of his life and teachings.
He detaches himself from the world in which he lived
and through which he acted, as the perfume of fra-
grant vines abandons the flowers in which it was dis-
•

tilled and fills the air.

Jesus was full of a generous enthusiasm for his

own country and people. He was occupied until
within two or three years of his death in mechanical
labors peculiar to his place and time. He so shaped
 THE FIRST JUDyEAN MINISTRY. 223

his tea'chings as to include in them all the truths

then unfolded among his countrymen, and he identi-
fied himself with the common people in the use of
their customs, pursuits, domestic habits, and language ;

so that he was of allmen a typical Jew, a Hebrew

of the Hebrews. And yet his life, written by four
Evangelists, themselves Hebrews, produces the effect,
not of nationality, but of universality.
We do not think of him as a Jew, but as a man ;

and each race appropriates him, as if he interpreted

their truest and deepest conception of manhood. That
which was peculiar to his age and. country seems to
have withered and dropped away, as leaves do when
they have nourished the cluster, which could not have
ripened without them, but which, being grown, is un-
like them in form, in color, and in flavor.
The only incident mentioned by the Evangelists in
connection with Christ's stay in Judaea is that he bap-
tized there. Yet it is expressly said, " Jesus himself
baptized not, but his disciples." The use of water as

a siscn of ceremonial cleanness is as old as the insti-

tutes of Moses, and borrowed from
probably was
Egyptian customs. It may be said to be a custom
almost universal iunong Oi-icntal nations. It was
natural that water should become in like manner a

synd)ol and declaration of moral purity. In this iin-'

])ortant element, tlic ])a])tisin of John, tiic haptisni of

,Iesns. and the ba|)tisni of the A|)ostU"s in the early

Clinrch arc suhsf ani ially oiu'. 'V\\vrv was. nndoiilit-

edly, a, variation of forniuhi. I'anl says that .lohn haj)-
tized a baptism of repentance, ami \\\;\(\v his converts
promise obedience to the Saviour that was lo come.
No such formula coiiM have been used in the ].'resence
224 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

of the Saviour himself. Nor can we suppose that the

apostolic formula, by which candidates were ])aptized
into the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy
Ghost, could have been unfolded at this early period.
But whatever the formula, and whatever the specific
variations, all these forms of baptism were essentially
one, and were but a token and announcement of moral
changes begun or promised. It was of powerful in-
fluence in giving decision and definiteness to moral
reformation. Good resolutions without action soon
melt away. Mere purposes of a better life change
easil}^ to dreams and reveries. But men who have
openly declared their withdrawal from evil, and their
adhesion to virtue and piety, are committed before
their fellows. After an open espousal of religion,
that pride and vanity which before resisted, now
fortify men's zeal.

It is, however, remarkable, that only in these early

and obscure periods of his ministry, and while he was in
John's neighborhood and surrounded by a community
that had been aroused by that bold and stern reformer,
did Christ continue in the use of baptism. There
seems to have been a special reason why he should
drop it. A dispute arose between John's disciples
and those of Jesus " about purifying." What it was,
is not said. It is supposed to relate to some form
of baptizing. Where men had been trained in the
school of the Pharisee, it would not be hard to find
occasion of difference. The moral duty of accuracy
in outward forms was the peculiar spirit of Pharisa-
ism. Indifference to all religious forms, if only the
interior reality be present, was the spirit of Christ.
To him baptism was a secondary matter, incidental
 THE FIRST .TUBMAN MINISTRY. 225

and declaratory. It was not an initiation, but the

sign of one. It conveyed no moral change, but it
was the profession of one. It was an act which re-
quired a disclosure of feeling, the manifestation of a
purpose, commitment to a vital decision and so far ;

as by this outward action men could be aided in the

struggles of a new
was useful,
life, it and no — so far
farther. Already Jesus had expounded to Nicodemus
the inoperative nature of baptism as a mere sign of
reformation Except a man be born of water and of
:
"•

the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God";

which is saying, in effect, Do not rest in the mere

fact that you have been baptized. John, indeed, bap-
tized to repentance and reformation. That is but the
lowest step it is a mere shadow and symbol.
; Hast
thou been baptized ? That is not enough. Except a
man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot
enter into the kingdom of God.
But this long dispute that had begun between the
disciples of Jesus and of John is not ended yet.
Which of two baptisms is best, — either of which is

good enough as a symbol, and neither of which is

good for anything else, —
still engages good men in

conscientious and useless controversy. The Jews who

liad been haptized hy John thought, doubtless, that

they had been better baptized than those other Jews

who had been baptized by the disciples of Jesus. It

is very likely tliat there was some slight dilVerence

in the way of handling the candidates. Doubtless the
woi'ds spoken over iheni in tlic rmniula of ha|)tisni

were Hut the Jews lia«l l)een reared

a little dillerent.

to a ceremonial worsliij), and had become very rigor-

ous in the o))servan<'e of eacli slightest particular of
226 ^^^^ ^^^'^^ OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

an external service, lest the absence of any single

particle would leave a leak through which all the
virtue would run out. Ceremonialism tends to scru-
pulosity, and scrupulosity to superstition, and super-
stition is idolatry. day men are yet camped
To this
down beside the Jordan, disputing about baptism and ;

now, as then, in the full blaze of a system whose whole

force is spiritual, disciples are divided, not even on an
ordinance, but on the external method of its adminis-
tration. Good men have intrenched their consciences
behind an externality of an externality. Nor is the
whole common spiritual wealth of Christianity able to
unite men who have quarrelled over the husk and
rind of a sj^mbolical ordinance.
There came near being two sects. It needed only
that the leaders on this question of baptism should
take sides with their disciples effectually to split their
common movement into two warring halves. Jesus,
seeing the danger, not only left the neighborhood,
but ceased baptizing. There is no record or hint
from this day that any of his disciples, or even that
his own Apostles, were baptized.
It is never easy for a master to see his authority
waning and another taking his place. Therefore
when on this occasion John's disciples resorted to
him, saying, " He that was with thee beyond Jordan,
to whom thou barest witness, behold, the same baptiz-
eth, and all mm come to him,'' we see in his answer a
disposition worthy of the forerunner of Christ. Only
the noblest natures so rejoice in the whole work of
God on earth that they are willing to "spend and
be spent " for the sake of the common good. John's
camel's hair and food of the wilderness were well
 !

THE rUiST JUD^EAN MINISTRY. 227

enough ; his stern morality and burning zeal in re-

forming his people were commendable ; but not all

of them revealed his true nobility as did the reply of

this unsectarian leader to his sectarian disciples : "I
am not the Christ. I am sent before him. He must
increase. I must decrease." Thus John yielded up
his place, and dies that it may
even as a flower falls

give place to the fruit that swells beneath it. Nor

ought we to lose the beauty of that figure which
John employed " The friend of the bridegroom,
:

which standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly

because of the bridegroom's Aoice : this my joy there-
fore is fulfilled." Jesus is the true bridegroom, I am
only his groomsman j but I make his happiness my
own
The time had come for Jesus to leave Judaea.
Warned by these disputes of the danger of a useless
controversy, and perceiving as well that his opportu-
nity was not yet ripe, he jDrepared to go home to
Galilee. He felt the access of a larger power. He had
thus far pursued his work in a tentative way. nud
without displaying those wonderful influences whicli
so often afterward swept ever3tliing before him. But
as when he came up from the Jordan the Spirit of (Jod
descended iij)()ii him so a second time, uow on tlu-
;

eve of his great missionary circuit, his soul was won-

derfully replenished and exalted. He rose to a liigher
sphere. He took one more stop back toward his full

orignial self. A portion of that miulitand majesty

which had been n'sti'aiiUMl by his mortal llcsh was
unfolding, and he was to Nvoik with a hiL:licr power
and upon a higliiT plane than before.
J}y weaving together IVom the four Kvangelists
228 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the account of his departure, we shall get a clear

view of the grounds on which the above remarks are
founded.
" Now after that John was put in prison, and Jesus
hud heard that he was cast into prison, and when the
Lord knew how the Pharisees had heard that Jesus
made and baptized more disciples than John (though
Jesus himself baptized not, but his disciples), he left

Judeea, and departed again, and 7'etiinied in the power of

the Spirit into Galilee^
>x-:-6i <
 THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 229

CHAPTER XI.

THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL.

From Jerusalem to Galilee the shortest and in many

respects the most interesting road ran directly north,
along the highest ridge of the Jiidrean hills. This table-
hind was comparatively narrow. On the east, its flank
was cut by deep ravines running down to the Jordan.
On the west, another system of ravines ran down to
the great maritime plain. Along the upper line be-
tween these gorges and valleys, the table-land was of
variable breadth, and in the time of our Lord was
clothed with trees and vines to an extent that can
hardly be imagined by one who views it in its present
barren and desolate state.
This region, including the ravines and valleys shoot-
ing down on either hand from the I'idge, wvax be called
the military ground of Palestine. At almost every
step one might here recall some famous conflict. It
was along this plateau that Joshua Ibught his cjiief
l)attl('s. Here Saul trium])hed, and here he was Anally
(n'crthrown and slain. Over this ground the ark went
in captivity U) Philistia. David fought over every
incii ol' this teiritoiy, hid in its cavrs. wandered in

its wildernes.s, and at length secured ])eace fioin his

enemies through their dual oveithrow and subjugation.
In his day Jerusalem, wholly wrested from the .lebu-
sites, became the capital of the nation, which reached
230 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the summit of its prosperity under the brilliant but

delusive reign of Solomon. The glory of that reign
was autumnal, and presaged decay.
The very names of towns and cities on either side
of this great road are histories. Ai, — the first city
conquered by Joshua, — Gibeah, Mizpeh, Michmash,
Gibeon, Beth-horon, Bethel, Gilgal, Shiloh, Shechem,
and many others, could hardly fail to callup to any
Jew a host
intelligent of historic remembrances. At
Bethel (Luz) Abraham pitched his tent, finding then,
as is still found, excellent pasturage ; and here he and
Lot separated. This place was the annual resort of
Samuel to judge Israel. Here Jeroboam set up the
golden calf, when he designed to draw away the ten
tribes from the worship of Jehovah. It was a place of

eminent sacredness in Jewish histor}^, and the projjhet

Amos (v. 5) sadly and solemnly predicts its ruin.

Under the palm-trees between Rama and Bethel, on

the mount of Ephraim, the proj)hetess Deborah sat and
judged Israel (Judges iv. 4, v. 12). It was hard by
Bethel, but eastward, that our Saviour, near the close
of his life, took refuge in the city of Ephraim —
Epliron and Ophrah of the Old Testament — from the
malice of his enemies in Jerusalem, and thence crossed
over Jordan to Pera3a. The names of Abraham, of
Isaac, of Jacob, and of Joseph, —
whose grave is near
to Shechem, — are associated with ever}^ step of the
way. The lapse of time has obliterated for us a thou-
sand monuments and landmarks which must have
been fresh and vital in the day when our Lord passed
by them. Each bald rock had its tale, every ravine
its legend, every mountain peak its history. The very
trees, gnarled and lifted high on some signal hill,
 THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 231

brought to mind many a stirring incident. This was

the road over which Jesus himself had gone in his
childhood with Mary and with Joseph.
All modern travellers are enraptured Avith the beauty
of the vale in which Shechem stands. Coming down
from the Juda3an hills,from among rocky passes and
stinted arboreous vegetation, the contrast at once pre-
sented of luxuriant fields of wheat and barley, the
silvery green of olive-trees, the fig, the oak, together
with the company of singing birds, would fill the sen-
sitive mind with delight. Van de Yelde presents a
striking picture, not only of the beauty of the vale of
Shechem, but of the atmospheric appearance of Pales-
tine in general, which is worthy of preservation.
" The awful gorge of the Leontes is grand and bold

beyond description the hills of Lebanon, over against

;

Sidon, are magnificent and su]jlime the valley of the ;

hill of Naphtali is rich in wild oak forest and brush-

wood those of Asher and Wady Kara, for example,

;

present a beautiful combination of wood and mountain

stream in ;ill the magnificence of undisturbed origi-
nality. Carmel, with its wilderness of timber trees and
shrul)s, of plants and Inishes, still :uiswers to its ancient
reputation for magnificence.
" But the vale of Shechem differs from them all. Here
there is no wilderness, here there are no wild thickets,
yet there is always verdure, — ahvays shade, not of the
oak, the terebinth, and the caroub-tree, but of the olive-
grove, so soft in color, so |)icturcs(|uc in foi'ui. that for
its sake we c;in willinglv (lisjx'nsc with ;ill dthcr wood.
"Here there arc no iin|)('t noii< mountain t(trr('nts,

yet there is water. — watei*. too. in more co|»ious suj)-

plies than anywhere else in the lan<l ; and it is just

232 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

to its many fountains, rills, and water-courses that the

valley owes its exquisite beauty.
" There is a singularity about the vale of Shechem,
and that is the peculiar coloring which objects as-

sume in it. You know that wherever there is water

the air becomes charged with watery particles, and
that distant objects, beheld through that medium, seem
to be enveloped in a pale blue or gray mist, such as
contributes not a little to give a charm to the land-
scape. But it is precisely these atmospheric tints that
we miss so much in Palestine. Fiery tints are to be
seen both in the morning and the evening, and glit-

tering violet or purple-colored hues where the light

fallsnext to the long, deep shadows but there is an ;

absence of coloring, and of that charming dusky haze

in which objects assume such softly blended forms, and
in which also the transition in color from the foreground
to the farthest distance loses the hardness of outline
peculiar to the perfect transparency of an Eastern sky.
"Itis otherwise in the vale of Shechem, at least

in the morning and the evening. Here the exhalations

remain hoverino; amono; the branches and leaves of the
olive-trees, and hence that lovely bluish haze.
" The valley is far from broad, not exceeding in some

places a few hundred feet. This you find generally

enclosed on all sides there likewise the vapors are
:

condensed. And so you advance 'under the shade of

the foliage along the living Avaters, and charmed by
the melody of a host of singing birds, for they, too, —
know where to find their best quarters, while the —
perspective fades away, and is lost in the damp, va-
pory atmosphere." ^
* Van de A^'oldc. I. 386, as quoted by Stanley.
 THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 233

At no other spot in Palestine, probably, could Jesus

have more fitly uttered his remarkable doctrine of the
absolute liberty of conscience from all t lira 11 of place
or tradition than here in Shechem, where the whole
Jewish nation, in a peculiar sense, had its beginning.
It was here that the great patriarch, Abraham, made
his first halt in Canaan, coming down from Damas-

cus and from Ur of the Chaldees, before any regular

village existed except the huddled tents of Bedouins.
Here he built an altar and worshipped. That faint
smoke which lay in the air but for a moment against
the background of Gerizim or Ebal was the prophecy
of myriads of sacrificial fires in after ages, kindled in
this land by his posterity, to that God who was then
for the first time worshipped in Palestine. From Abra-
ham to Christ had been a long and weary way but ;

now the Messiah was come, the last sacrifice. Thence-

forth neither in this mountain nor yet at Jerusalem
should men worship God, but under every sky, in
every spot where a true heart yearned or suffered.
It was here that Jacob first pitched his tent, having
parted from Esau in safety, and come down to the
Jordan through the valley cleft by the river Jaljl)()k.
"And he bought a parcel of a field, where he had
spread liis tent, at the hand of the cliildren of Ilnnior,
Shechem's fjithcr, for ati liiiiKlicd |)i(M'es of money.
And he erected tliere an nltar. and vn\\v^\ il El-
Pj.oilK-IsKAKl.." When the Israelites i-ctiiriu'd from
Egypt Jind crossed the Jordan, they lay lor a tiuu- in
the valley, thrusting -out an aim. as it were to de-
stroy the chief cities on the hills hetwi'eii what is

now Jerusalem and Sheeliein. lint the first per-

manent removal ol the whole camp into the interior
234 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

brought them to this vale, and here they discharged

their sacred trust, and buried the bones of Joseph
near the foot of the mountain. It is one of the few

burial-})laces of the earlier heroes of the Hebrews

which may be regarded as having been accurately
preserved by tradition.
It was in this vale, and in the presence of these
mountains, Gerizim on the south and Ebal on the north,
that the most august assembly which history has ever
recorded was gathered together. Before the tribes
were separated and sent to their respective allotments
of territory, while yet the people were living a camp
life, —a camp of three million souls,
vast a mova- —
ble city, awandering state, a nomadic commonwealth,
— it seemed desirable to produce upon their memory

and their imagination a solemn impression, that should

not wear out for generations, of their especial calling,
of their eminent moral duties as a peculiar nation,
the people of Jehovah.
Into the narrow plain of Shechem came the whole
nation. On the north stood precipitous Ebal, over
against it on the south Avas Gerizim. The tribes
were divided. Six tribes drew around the base and
lined the sides of the one mountain, and six swarmed
up, a million and a half of men, women, and children,
upon the other; the ark, the priests and Levites,
standing midway between the two great mountains.
Then the nation, with a dramatic solemnity unpar-
alleled, entered into a covenant with God. All other
historic assemblages sink into insignificance compared
with this. For grandeur it can be equalled only in
the Judgment day
representation of the great final
and the gorgeous Apocalyptic visions. The whole
 ;

THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 235

Law w<as read by the Levites, to its last words. Nor,

from the accounts of travellers, can there be a doubt
that in the clear air of Palestine the human voice
could make itself distinctly audible through all the vale
and the mountain galleries, crowded with three million
people. The most striking, as doubtless it was the most
thrilling, part of the service followed the reading of
the Law. Moses had drawn up an inventory of bless-
ings which should come upon the people if tliey kept
the law and twice as many curses, of extraordinary
;

variety and bitterness, if they were unfaithful to the

Law. As each blessing was promised, all the people
on Gerizim shouted a cheerful Amen To the curses, !

a sullen Amen was echoed back from Ebal. Thus the

!

mountains cried one to the other, like the sound of

many waters, in thunders of curses and of blessings.
For a long time Shechem served as a kind of capital
and even after Jerusalem had ))ecome the chief and
royal city, coronations took place at Shechem, as if it

had a relation to the nation's history wliich gave it

peculiar sanctity.
Samaria was inhabited in the time of Clirist l)y the
descendants of lieathen nations, sent thither by the
king of Bal)ylon to replace the Jews, of whom the land
had l)een stri])ped bare by Shalmaneser, B. C. 721.
They had. however, endeavored to adopt the Jewisli
worsliip witlioiil cntiri'Iy ix'lin(|iiisliing idolatry. Being
repelled Jews tVoiii all ])aiticipatl()n in the
l»y tlic

building of the Temple at .liTiisalem, they had l>nilt a

temple ol' theii' own upon Monnt (leii/im. and claimed
for it a sanctity even uTeater than that of .leiMisalem.
The enmity between the .lew and the Samaritan rose
to such a pitch that the\' refused all intercoai'se with
236 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

each other. The education of the Jew made him a

very determined hater, and every patriotic impulse
and the whole fervor of his religious feeling quickened
and intensified the hatred and contempt with which
he looked upon a mongrel race who practised idola-
try, the greatest crime known to the Jew, mider the
pretence of a rival worship of Jehovah. There is no
passion so strong in human nature as an educated
religious hatred. It was this national abhorrence that

gave such audacity to the parable of the Good Sa-

maritan, utteredby our Lord, and that marks the
interview at Jacob's well.
There no means of determining with exactness
is

at what time of the year Christ passed through Sama-

ria,and consequently scholars fix the time all along
from November to March. We incline to the opinion
that it was not far from December. With his few
disciples, Jesus came from the mountain of Ephraim
into the plain of Shechem, and of course approached
the passage between Gerizim and Ebal at its eastern
end. Robinson says that Jacob's well is "on the end
of a low spur or swell running out from the north-
eastern base of Gerizim, and is still fifteen or twenty
feet above the level of the plain below." The whole
region around is alive with natural springs. Seventy
distinct fountains have been counted, some of them
gushing with such force and abundance, that, after
supplying many houses and gardens, the waste water
is still sufficient to turn small mills.
This very abundance of springs has given rise to
the doubting question. Why should Jacob dig a well
ten feet in diameter, to the depth of eighty-five feet,
through solid rock, for the sake of obtaining water,
 THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 237

when already water bubbled up in extraordinary

abundance on every side ? The reason doubtless was,
that these natural fountains were already in posses-
sion of the native population, who would be jealous of
a foreigner whose vast herds and flocks, and whose
household servants and trained bands, indicated a
power and prosperity which they did not altogether
enjoy. In that land a well-spring was a valuable pri-
vate property, held by families and tribes very much
as coal and iron mines and water-powers are, in our
day, owned by companies. Besides, in the watering
of Jacob's great flocks there would be peculiar danger
of quarrels and conflicts with native herdsmen. It

was like JacoJj —

a pacific and sagacious manager,
better fitted for keeping out of danger than for the
display of courage and the love of fighting — to pro-
vide a well of his own, and thus to secure at the same
time peace wnth his neighbors and personal indepen-
dence. This well is among the few memorials of the
patriarchal period about which tradition is hardly sus-
pected of lying. It is safe to accept it as a gift to
posterity from the very hands of the most politic and
worldly-wise of all the Jewish patriarchs. Around it

his own flocks have flourished. He has himself stood

at evening to see the eager herds rushing to the stone
troughs to slake their thirst. In tliat burning liind

tliirst \v;is a torment, mid its relief a great hixurv.

Indeed, there are few of the lower sensations of enjoy-
ment known to in;ni tliat ecjual the cup of cold water
in tlir hoiu' of thii'st. And he is not (it for ])astoral

life who (h)('s not \\\\\v ))leasnre in watching animals

drink. We may be snrc that .laroh often stdod hy the
w'at('riny:-trou}2:hs to direct the order! \ administration
238 THE LIFE or JESUS, THE CHRIST.

of things, and to watch the scene with quiet satisfac-

tion. Eagerly the cattle plunge their muzzles deep in
the water. They lift their heads for breath, the drops
falling back to the trough, flashing in the evening
light like opals. They drink again. They toss the
water now with their lips in play. They draw large
draughts and stand long without swallowing, as if to

cool their and slowly tin^n away, now full

throats,
satisfied, to couch down, with long-draAvn breath, and

rest for the night. It were well for us if these simple

rural tastes could supplant the feverish pleasures of
untimely hours in crowded towns, where less of nature
and more of man work corruption of taste and of
morals.
We love to think of this old well and its long work
of mercy. Through hundreds and through thousands
of years at brink have stood old men, little children,
its

weary pilgrims, fair maidens, grim warriors, stately

sheiks, dusty travellers, — all sorts and conditions of
the East and of the West. It gave forth its water to
the good and bad alike. It not improbably crowned
itsbeneficence by furnishing to the prophet the sug-
gestion of " wells of salvation," which in time were
transferred to the ideal city, the great overhanging
Home of mankind ; and the message of God in the
Revelation closes with the voice of one crying to
the whole earth, for all time, " And the Spirit and
the bride say^ Come. And let him that heareth say.
Come. And let him that is athirst come. And who-
soever will, let him take the water of life freely."
On the route which Jesus had chosen from Judasa to
Galilee " he must needs pass through Samaria." It
was the shortest and easiest road. Yet such was the
 THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 239

animosity of Jews towards Samaritans that for the most

part the Jews preferred the circuitous road through
Peraea, east of the Jordan. The December sun was
not so fervid as to forbid travelling through the whole
day. It Avas about noon when Jesus came to Jacob's
well. There was a stone platform about it, and doubt-
less other provision was made for the comfort of trav-
ellers. Here Jesus rested while his disciples went on
to Sychar to buy food. The town of Shechem, like
its modern successor Nablous, was two miles from the

well, and Sychar was probably the name for a neigh-

borhood attached to Shechem, but much nearer to the
w^ell. Every considerable place will be found to have
nicknames for such outlying settlements, and Sychar
was probably such a one.
Jesus had not been long there before a Samaritan
woman approached to draw water, and was surprised
that a stranger, and he a Jew, should say to her,
" Give me to drink." Although an easy, good-natured
creature, and too fond of society, no one should say that
she had not shown a proper spirit in standing up for
the right of all Samaritans to hate Jews " How is it !

that thou, being a Jew, askest drink of me, who am a

woman of Samaria?"
Clnist was conscious of the contrast in irnnsclf
between appearance and reality. He felt tlie r)i\iiu'
nature withiu, yet to the eye there was no divinity.
Tlie woiiiMu's r('])ly touclied thnt consciousness of his
real siipciior existence. ••
If thou knewest the gift of
(lod. and who it is that saith to thee. (Jive me to drink,
thou \voul(h'st have asked of liiiu. and he would Iiave
'

gi\('n thee h\ing watei*.

We see in this conversation airain the \<'i\ same

 "

240 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

subtile play of tliought between the material and its

spiritual counterpart which was shown in the conversa-
tions with Nicodemus and with the questioners in the
Temple. Jesus seems like one who thought on two
different planes. He recognized the qualities and the
substance of this world as they appeared to his follow-
ers, while their outcome and value and meaning in

the spiritual life was his real and inner interpretation

of them. This doubleness we often see in parents, or
in benevolent teachers of children, who go along with
the child's understanding, and yet ]Derceive that things
are not as the child thinks them to be, and their "con-
sciousness plays back and forth between the child's
imperfect sense of truth and their own truer judgment
of reality.
Jesus seemed to the woman to be talking about real
water. The term " living water " has not necessarily a

spiritual significance. Living water was perhaps to

her ears spring-water, for nothing seems more alive
than running water; and her mind was divided be-
tween respect and curiosity. At any rate, she now
bethinks herself of his title, and calls him Master, or,

as in the English version. Sir. " Sir, thou hast noth-

ing to draw and the well is deep from whence
Avitli, :

then hast thou that living water ? " And then look-
ing upon the traveller, and in her mind contrasting
his helpless appearance with the grand ideas enter-
tained by her people of the old patriarch Jacob, she
adds, with a spice of humor, Art thou greater than
''

our father Jacob, which gave us the well, and drank

?
thereof himself, and his children, and his cattle
Without doubt, she regarded this answer as pecu-
liarly effective from a Samaritan to a Jew, inasmuch
 ;

THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 241

as she had given him to understand, Jew as he was,

that Jacob was also the Samaritan's father, and that
the detested Samaritan owned the patriarch's very
well, so that thirsty Jews were obliged to come beg-
ging a drink of the very peoj^le whom they despised
as outcastsfrom Israel and out of covenant with God.
If such was her feeling, the reply of Jesus put it all
away, and brought her to a different mind. Without
noticing her implied taunts, and now beginning to let
her see that he was not talking of the water in Ja-
cob's well, but of some other, —
what other she could
not imagine, — he said :
" Whosoever drinketh of this
water shall thirst again whosoever drinketh of
: l)ut

the water that I shall give him shall never thirst but ;

the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well

of water springing up into everlasting life."

As the body thirsts, and is contented with water, so

there is unanswered yearning, for unsatisfied desires,
for
for all that restlessness and craving of feeling, for the
thirst of the soul, a living water which shall quiet them
not as water quiets the body, that thirsts again in an
hour, but with an abiding and eternal satisfaction. This
is indeed that "gift of God" which, had she known,

would have made her suppliant to him. Even yet

how few know it How few among Christian believers
!

have entered into tbat rest of soul, that trust and love,
which come from the Divine Spirit, and which, when
once the Holy Sj)iiit lias fully shined and brought
simuiicr to the soul, will never depart from it, but will
be an eternal joy I

None of all this, however, did she understand. Per-

haps, while Clu'ist was speaking, she revolved in her
mind Ihc coiucnicncc of the new sort of water which
10
242 THE 'life of JESUS. THE CHRIST.

this man spoke of, would

and what a treasure it

be if, when the summer came on, she need not

trudge wearily to this well. At any rate, she seems to
have refjlied in a business-like spirit: "Sir, give me
this water, that I thirst not, neither come hither to
draw." There are many like her, who would be glad
of such a Divine gift of religion as should take
away all. labor and trouble of Christian life. " That I
come not hither to draw" is the desire of thousands
who want the results of right living without the
trouble of living aright.
But it was time to bring home the truth to her
conscience, instead themes which this
of discussing
poor pleasure-loving creature could understand even
less than Nicodemus. As if he were about to comply
with her request for this gift of living water, (by
which very likely she understood that he would dis-
cover to her a new and near spring, bubbling up
close at hand near her dwelling,) he says to her
pointedly, " Go, call thy husband."There must have
been in the tone and manner something which startled
her for evidently this adroit woman was, for the
;

moment, thrown off her guard. Instead of waiving

the demand, or seeming to evade it, she with some
sense of shame hastily replied, " I have no husband."
Like an arrow well aimed from a strong bow the
words of Jesus struck home to her conscience. "Thou
hast well said, I have no husband : for thou hast had
five husbands ; and he Avhom thou now hast is not thy
husband in that saidst thou truly."
:

It was but a second of confusion. The woman

was of nimble thought, and had been practised in
quick ways. There is great diplomacy in her recog-
 THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 243

nizing the truth of the allegation in a way of compli-

ment to this stranger, rather than of shame to her-
self: " Sir, I perceive that thou art a prophet." And
then, with fluent dexterity, she eludes the personal
topic and glides into the stock argument between the
Jew and the Samaritan. Nor can we help noticing the
consummate tact with which she managed her case.
" Our fothers worshipped in this mountain." And there,

right before them, rose Mount Gerizim, its temple blaz-

ing in the midday sun, and beginning already to cast
its shadows somewhat toward the east. The argument,
too, of "our fithers" has always proved strong. Opin-
ions, like electricity, are supposed to descend more
safely along an unbrolven chain. That which " our fa-
thers " or our ancestors believed is apt to seem neces-
sarily true ; and the longer the roots of any belief, the
more flourishing, it is supposed, will be its top. " Our
fathers worshipped in this mountain, and ye say that
in Jerusalem is the place where men ought to wor-
ship." This was the bone of contention. Worsliip had
ceased to be the offering of the heart, and had become
a superstition of places and external methods.
The reply of Jesus is striking in its appeal to her
for credence :
" Woman, believe me, the hour Com-
eth, when ye sliall neither in this moimtain. nor yet
at Jerusalem, worship the Father." This answer was
not in the spirit of tlie Greek philosoj)hy, whicli was
the parent of scepticisui ; nor in the Oriental spirit,
yvliich was full of superstition ; nor in tlic lioiuan spii'it,

which was essentially worldly and unrcligions ; and far

less did it breathe the ('()nteni])()iaiy .lewish spirit,

whether oi' Pharisee or of Sadducee. It expresses

the renimciation of the senses in worship. It throws
244 THE TAPE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

back upon the heart and soul of every one^ whoever

he may be, wherever he may be, the whole office of
worship. It is the first gleam of the new morning.
No longer in this nest alone, or in that, shall religion
be looked for, but, escaping from its shell, heard in
all the earth, in notes the same in every language,

flying unrestrained and free, the whole heavens shall

be its sphere and the whole earth its home.
But, for a moment restraining these imperial views,
Jesus declares that in so far as the truth taught at
Mount Zion is to be compared with that at Gerizim,
Jerusalem is nearer the truth of God than Shechem.

"Ye worship ye knoAV not what: we know what we

worship for salvation is of the Jews."
; He thus
authenticates the religion of the old dispensation, iden-
tifies himself with the Jews as distinguished from the
Samaritans, and witnesses to the essential truth of
their views of God and of Divine government. Re-
suming; ag-ain the theme of relisrion set free from all

external constraints and all superstitions of place and

method, he adds :
" But the hour cometh, and now is,

when the true worshippers shall worship the Father

in spirit and in truth for the Father seeketh such
:

to worship him. God is a spirit, and they that wor-

ship him must worship him in spirit and in truth."

Henceforth religion shall be personal, not official.

Sobered by the impressive manner of Jesus, and

having an indistinct feeling of a great truth in his
teaching, the woman waives the dispute, and, catch-
ing at his repeated allusion to the new coming future,
safely closes her part in saying, I know that Mes- ^'

sias cometh, which is called Christ when he is come, :

he will tell us all things. Jesus saith unto her, I

 THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 245

that speak unto thee am he." But just then came

the disciples, and we have never ceased to wish that
they had stayed away a Uttle longer, for the conver-
sationhad reached a point at which one is breathless
for the next sentence. The disciples were curious
and surprised to find their Master thus engaged, and
would have asked inquisitively what he was talking
about but there was something in his manner which
;

checked familiarity. "No man said, Why talkest thou

with her?"
Whether Jesus received at the hands of the woman
the coveted draught of water, we know not. Carried
away by the thoughts of the new heaven and the
new earth, in the glorious efflux of the spirit of life
and liberty he may have forgotten his bodil>' thirst.
It is certain that the excitement of his soul so
wrought upon his body as to take away his desire for
food, for, when his disciples urged him to eat, his
enigmatical reply was, " I have meat to eat that ye
know not of" And they, in their simplicity, asked
whether any one had brought food to him. Then
he declared that not bread, but work, was his food.
He felt the power of tlie Spirit. Ilis own spirit was
kindled, and streamed forth toward the field of
labor, wliicli was ripe and waiting for the sickle of tlie
truth. The vale of 8hecliem was famous for its graiii-
fields. They stretched out before his eye in the ten-
der green of their first sprouting. Seizing the scene
before him, as he was wont to do Ibi- figure, parable,
or theme, he said,"Say not ye, There are 3'et four
months, and then cometh harvest? beliold, T say unto
you, Lift up your eyes and look on the fields ; for
they are white already to harvest."
 ;

246 'i'JII'^ tll^'l'^ OF JESUS, THE (JURIST.

Thus, while his words seeiried to hold on to the

visible field of young grain, his meaning had really
glanced off to the transcendent field of moral life.

We saw the same method in his reply to the scribes

in the Temple, and we shall find it a peculiarity of
his genius, which appears in all the Gospels, but which
John alone seems to have reproduced fully.
The woman was profoundly affected by the surpris-
ing interview. She hastened back to her friends,
not to boast a triumph, but to call them out to see
a man " that told me all things that ever I did."

There are certain experiences which stand for the

whole of one's life. It may be a great love, or a
great defeat and mortification, or a great crime, or
a measureless sorrow, or a joy lost irrecoverably
whatever it may be, there are experiences which
epitomize our whole life, and represent to our mem-
ory the very substance of life, everything besides
being incidental and accessory. And he that touches
that hidden life seems to have revealed everything.
This woman's domestic career had been such as to
show the channel in which her nature ran. A single
sentence told her that the stranger knew her spirit
and disposition. It was not his words alone, but
with them there was a judicial solemnity, a piercing
eye that seemed to her to search her very soul, a man-
ner which showed that he sorrowed for her, while he
was exposing her career. And yet she had lived un-
abashed and content with herseh'. The whole narrative
shows a woman not utterly sunk in evil, careful yet
of appearances, —a woman quick of thought, fertile

in expedient,and possessed of much natural force, —

just such a one as might have had five husbands.
 THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 247

Love had not taught her dehcacy or purity. One

does not think pleasantly of five successive mar-
riages, and is not surprised that her last choice had

not even the pretence of marriage. Yet this shrewd

but pleasure-lovingwoman could not refrain among
her townspeople from crying out, " Is not this the
Christ ? " Thereupon the citizens rushed out " and
came unto him"; they surrounded him with entrea-
ties —
he too a Jew, and they Samaritans that he! —
would come home with them and tarry. For two days
he stayed with them. His works and his discourses
are not recorded. The effects of them, however,
are : many believed many whose curiosity had been
;

excited by the enthusiasm of the woman exchanged

curiosity for a moral conviction that this was indeed
the Christ, the Saviour of the world.
We thus behold Jesus at the beginning of his more
open ministry setting himself against the seculariza-
tion of the Temple and the superficial morality of the
Pharisee, turning his back upon Jerusalem, and with
it upon the strongest national passion, namely, the

sense of superlative Jewish excellence, and the ))itier

hatred of Gentiles, and, above all other (Jentiles, of
the Samaritans. Patriotism among the Jews had lost
;ill kindliness, and was made iij) of intense conceit and

liatri'd. To resist this spirit, according to all worldly

calculations, was and his cause, in
to subject hinisell'
the very beginning, to overwhelming oblo({uy. Of
this Jesns could not have been ignorant. He needed
no experience to teach him lliaf his countrymen, by
a vicious interpretation of their Scriptures, and by
their ])eculiar sulR'rings in caplisity and under the
yoke ut home, had come to regard a uialign and bitter
248 I'HK LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

hatred of all Gentiles not only as compatible with

but as the critical exercise of it, as the fulfil-
religion,
ment of its innermost spirit. " Thou shalt love thy
neighbor, and hate thine enemy."
Even common prudence, the simple instinct of safe-
ty, would have inclined a mere man to avoid offending,
at any rate on the threshold, the strongest impulses of
the most religious portion of his people, especially when
itneeded only that he should take the right-hand
road and go by the valley of the Jordan, or through
Peroea to Galilee, instead of going through Samaria.
But he chose to go through Samaria. When a woman
doubly abhorrent to the precision ists — both a as Sa-
maritan and as one of loose morals — drew near him,
he asked the boon of water, and thus gave her leave to
enter into conversation with him, and treated her, not
as a sinner,but as a human being, all the more needy
because she was culpable he sent his disciples to buy
;

food at a Samaritan town, though " the Jews have no

dealings with the Samaritans"; and finally, though
right from Jerusalem and from the Temple, to the
horror of every right-minded Pharisee he accepted
the hospitality of the Samaritans, slept under then-
roofs, ate at their tables, taught in their and
streets,
altogether treated them as if they were as good as
Jews!
Here, then, " the middle wall of partition " began to
be broken down. In the Temple, between the Court
of the Gentiles and the next inner court described in
our last chapter, was a marble screen or curiously
carved fence, some two feet high, beyond which no
Gentile coidd venture. Had a Samaritan put his foot
inside of that " wall of partition " he would have been
 THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL. 249

whirled away and stoned to death in

in a fury of rage,
the twinkUng But Jesus was treading
of an eye.
down that partition wall. He that was himself the
spiritual counterpart of the Temple was admitting
Samaritans within the pale of Divine sympathy and
love.
This visit in Samaria is of singular importance, at
the opening of Christ's ministry, in two respects first, :

as a deliberate repudiation and rebuke of the exclu-

siveness of the Jewish Church ; and secondly, and
even more significantly, as to the humane manner
of his treatment of a sinning woman. He knew
her tainted life. He knew that the whole world
smiles upon the act of degrading a woman, and that
the whole world puts the double sin upon her alone,
hardly esteeming her paramour guilty at all, but
counting her sin utterly unforgivable. He who after-
wards said, •'
Tlie publicans and harlots shall go into
the kingdom of God before you," here made it mani-
fest that sin does not remove the sinner from Divine

sympathy and love. Christ treated not this care-

less, shrewd, dexterous woman of the world with
scorn or bitter rebuke. He made himself her com-
panion. That which was Divine in liim had fellowsliip
with that which was human in lier. His soul went out
to her, not as a fire to consume, but as a pui'i lying
fiame. Tliis experience was a fit prelude to his now

opening public life. It was the text from which fiowed

two distinguishing eh'nients of liis ministry, sym- —
pathy lor mankind, and the tenderest compassion for
those who liave sinned and stnm))led. It revealed
God's heart, sent tbe prophetic beam of reconciliation
to each soul, and was the promise of that one laniily in
250 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Christ Jesus that was to comprise every nation and

people on the globe.
It has been objected to this narrative, that it is not
probable that Jesus would have gone into such profound
discourse with a woman, a stranger, not capable of un-
derstanding his meaning, and wholly unworthy, in any
point of view, of receiving such, attention. It cer-
tainly is not probable, ifwe reason according to the
common tendencies of human nature. Men reserve
their fine speeches for fine men, and their philosophy
for philosophers. Had the mission of Christ followed
human would have differed in every partic-
notions, it

ular from its real history. But certainly this elevated

doctrine delivered to the light-living woman of Sama-
ria is in strict analogy with the other acts of Jesus.
Modern critics are not the make such objections
first to

to his career. His contemporaries reproached him for

this very thing, namely, consorting with publicans and
sinners, and he made the noble reply, I came not to ''

call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance." If to

any this familiarity seems discordant and repulsive,
they have occasion to look well to their own hearts.
Such a course Avould be apt and
to offend pride spirit-

ual conceit; it could not but harmonize with a spirit

of pure benevolence.
It is interesting to contrast these two conversations
of Jesus, that with Nicodemus and that with the name-
less woman Nicodemus was a man of
of Samaria.
rank and consideration woman was of the lower
; the
order of an outcast people. He was cultivated, reflec-
tive, and eminently moral she was ignorant, unspirit-
;

ual, and unvirtuous. Far apiirt as they were in all

external proprieties, both of them had been caught in
 ;

THE LESSON AT JACOB'S WELL 251

the snare of selfishness. He had l)iiilt up a life for

himself,and she for herself He was selfish through
and moral nature, and she through her
his intellectual
senses and passions. Outwardly they were far apart
as a member of society she fell sadly below him but ;

in the sight of God both were alike sinful. It was

not needful to argue this with her ; conscience already
condemned her. But to Nicodemus itwas necessary
to say, " Ye must be born again." He was probably
more surprised at the truth when he understood its
spiritual meaning than when he stumbled at it as a
ph3^siological proposition. There is but one message
to the high and to the low. All are crude, undevel-
oped, sinful. Only by the Spirit of God can any one
rise to tliat true life, whose fruit is truth and purity,
joy and j^eaco.
We are not to claim originality for the truths dis-
closed in the discourse at the well. The spirituality of
God, the fact that religion is an affection of the soul,
and not a routine of action, —
that God is a universal
God, the same everywhere, accessible to all of every
nation without other labor than that of lifting up pure
thoughts to him, and that he dwells in heaven yet is

])resent everywhere, so that no one need seek him on

the high mountain, nor in any special temple, but uiay
find hiui near, in their very hearts, — this was taught by
all tlie prophets, — by Samuel as really as by Isaiah,
by Moses as clearly as by his successors.
But llie knowledge was pract ically lost. If tlie

clearer iiiiiids of a few discerned it. yet it was to tlu'

many indistiuct, being vi'iled, and even buried, by

the ritual, the priestly olliees. and the superstitious
aanctity given to temples and altais. Men felt that
252 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

in some mysterious way they derived a fitness to

approach God by what the altar, the priest, or the
intiuences of the sacred place did for them. That a
holy God demanded pm^ity in those who approached
him, they knew but they did not realize that he him-
;

self purified by his very presence those who came to

him.
The filial relationship of every human heart to God
did not enter the moral consciousness of men until
they learned it in Jesus Christ. In him ever}- mtin
became a priest, his heart an altar, and his love and
obedience the only offerings required. Men were
loosed from the ministration of ordinances, of rituals,
of days, moons, and the whole paraphernalia of a
gorgeous and laborious external system, and hence-
forth the poor, the untaught, the sinful, had a God
near at hand and easy of access. He was no longer
to be regarded as a monarch, but as a Father. No
longer was it to be taught that he reigned to lev}'

exactions, but to pour boundless treasure out of his

own heart upon the needy. God sought those who
before sought him. no nearer to God
The priest stood
than the humblest peasant. God was as near to the
Magdalen as to the Virgin Mary. He was presented
to the heart and imagination as the great Helper.
The approach to him was simply
qujilification for

NEED. Tliey stood nearest to Divine mercy that

needed most.
 Early labors in galilee. 253

CHAPTER XII.

EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE.

Bad as the Samaritans were esteemed to be by the

Jews, they excelled the people of Jerusalem both in
cordial reception of the trnth and in hospitality. There
isno narrative of Christ's words or actions durincj; the
two days which he was persuaded to tarry in Samaria,
but some idea may be formed of his teachings from the
conversations held with Nicodemus and with the Wo-
man at the Well. The lost discourses of Jesns were far
more numerous than those which have been preserved,
and one cannot refrain from regret that so much in-

imitable teaching served but the purpose of the hour,

and passed ont of mind without an authentic memorial.
Leaving Samaria, he bent his steps toward Galilee
as toward a shelter. Althouo^h it was like drawino* near
to his home, yet his original home, Nazareth, seems
never to have had attractions for him, or to have de-
served liis regard. He gave as a reason for not return-
ing there, tbat a •'
prophet hath no h(juor in his own
country." But he was cordially I'eceived in other parts
of Galilee. The echo of his doings in Jerusalem had
conic down to the ])rovin(!es. Many Jews IVoiu tliis
re«i:ion had been at JcrusaK'ni, and had both heard him
and seen his works. Wliat was ])robably more to the
purpose, they had heard tlic ()])iui()ns of the cliief men
of the Temple, who, though in watclil'ul suspense, were
 ;

254 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

hoping that he might prove to be the longed for Leader

and Deliverer. The tacit approval of the Scribes and
Pharisees of Jerusalem would go far with the devout
provincial Jews.
Probably attracted by the cordiality of friends in
Cana, where he had wrought his first miracle, Jesus
repaired thither. But he had now become a celebrity.
It was known in all the region that he had returned
from Jerusalem. And herewe come uj^oh one of those
striking scenes of wliich we shall see so many during
his career, — pictures they seem, rather than histo-
ries. Out of the nameless crowd some striking figure
emerges, —a ruler, a centurion, a maniac, a foreign
woman. Under the eye of Christ these personages
glow for a moment with intense individuality, and then
sink back into obscurity. No history precedes them
no after account of them is given. Like the pictures
which the magic lantern throws upon the screen, they
seem to come from the air and to melt again into
nothing and yet, while they remain, every line is
;

distinct and every color intense.

Such a picture is that afforded by the courtier of
Capernaum. A " nobleman " he is miscalled in the
Euglish version probablj^ he was only a house-officer
;

under Herod Antipas, but with some pretensions to

influence. In common with others, he had heard of
Jesus and, as rumor always exaggerates, he doubtless
;

supposed that the new prophet had performed more

cures than at that time he had done. This officer, who
would at other tiuies have listened to Jesus only as a
fashionable man would listen to a Avandering magician,
for the diversion of a spare moment, had a son h'ing
at the point of death with a fever, — that plague of
 "

EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 255

Capernaum. Sorrow makes men sincere, and anguish

makes them earnest. The courtier sought out this
Jesus and as in critical danger the proudest men are
;

suppHant to the physician, so he " besought him that

he would come down and heal his son." To heal that
boy was easy ;
yet, as if the boon were far too small
for the generosity of his heart, Jesus purposed not only
to restore the child to his parent, but to send back a
more excellent father to the child. And so, that he
might awaken his better nature and prepare him to
receive the bounty, not as a matter of course but
as a gift of God, he dealt withjiis petitioner as fond
parents do with their children, when they excite their
eagerness and their pleasure by holding the coveted
giftabove their reach, and cause them to vibrate be-
tween desire and doubt. "Except ye see signs and
wonders, ye Avill not believe."
The mere thought of losing his boy through an un-
believing spirit seemed to touch the father's very

heart, and without protestations he showed his foith

by bursting out into an agony of imperious persuasion:
"Sir, come down ere my child die !

It was enough. The fountain was stirred. Jesus

did better than he was asked. Instead of ""oino; to
Capernaum, twenty-five miles distant, his spirit darted
henling power, and he dismissed the believing parent:
"(jio thy way; thy son liveth."

That the Either believed truly is plain in tlint he

accepted tlic word without doubt. ;iiid turned iiomc-
;i

ward with all haste, as one who fears no o\'il. it was

about one o'clock when i\w conference with Christ

took })lace ;and the next day in the afternoon, as lie
was on the road, iiis servants met him with "Thy
256 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

son liveth," and upon inquiry they informed him that

" yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him."
This is more remarkable, because it departed in
the
the very heat and glow of the day, as well as at the
very hour when Jesus said, " Thy son liveth." From
that moment the courtier became a believing disciple,
and with him his whole household. Thus the passing
sickness of one is blessed to the spiritual restoration
of a whole family. Sorrows are often precursors of
mercy. Those are blessed troubles which bring Christ
to us. But for that boy's deathly sickness, the father
might have missed his own immortality. By it he
saved his own soul and the souls of his household, and
not only recovered his son, but dwells with him eter-
^
nally. For " himself believed, and his whole house."
But the time must come when Jesus should preach
in the town where his childhood and much of his
early manhood Avere spent. Not long after this act of
mercy to the servant of Herod, Jesus came to Nazareth.
On the Sabbath he entered the synagogue familiar to
him from his youth. The scene which took place is
one of the most remarkable in this period of his his-

*
Many commentators liave supposed that this incident is the same as

that recorded by Matthew and Luke. (Matt, viii, Luke vii. 1-10.)
5 - 13 ;

But the ditTerences are utterly irreconcilable. In one case it was a Roman
centurion, in the other an officer of Herod's household, that solicited Christ's
interference. The courtier's s<on was sick the centurion's servonl. The
;

centurion sent the elders of the Jews to Jesus the courtier came himself.
;

Tlie courtier besought Christ to come to his house, but his child was healed
from a distance ; Jesus oflered to go to the centurion's house, but, with ex-
treme humility, that officer declared himself unworthy of such a guest, and

besought him, with a striking military figure, to heal his servant by a word.
Tlie points of resemblance are few, and such as might easily occur where so
many miracles were wrought. The divergences are so marked that to make
the cases one and the same would introduce difficulties where none really
exist, except hi the imagination of commentators.
 EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 257

iory. was imperilled in an unlooked for

His life

uproar which broke out in the synagogue when he was

conducting the service. For the Jewish synagogue
had no ordained and regular minister the ruler, and ;

in his absence the elders, twelve of whom sat upon the

platform where the reading-desk was placed, called
from the congregation an}^ person of suitable age and
character who could read fluently and expound with
propriety the lessons of the Law and the Prophets.^

' We quote a brief extract from Kitto's Biblical CydopcBdia (Art.

" Synagogue," by Christian D. Ginsburg), to illustrate the reading of the
Scriptures by Christ :
—
" To give unity and harmony to the worship, as well as to enable the
congregation to take part in the responses, it was absolutely necessary to
have one who should lead the worship. Hence, as soon as the legal number
required for public worship had assembled, the ruler of the synagogue, or
in his absence the elders, delegated one of the congregation to go up before
the ark to conduct divine service.
" The function of the apostle of the ecclesia was not permanently vested
in any single individual ordained
for this purpose, but was alternately con-
ferredupon any lay member who was supposed to possess the qualifications
necessary for offering up prayer in the name of the congregation. This is
evident from the reiterated declarations both in the Mishna and the Tahnud.
" Thus we are told that any one who is not under thirteen years of age,
and whose garments are not in rags, may officiate before the ark that if ;
'

one is before the ark (ministers for the congregation), and makes a mistake
(in the prayer), another one is to minister in his stead, and he is not to
decline it on such an occasion.' '
The sages have transmitted that he who
is asked to conduct public worship is to delay a little at first, saying that lie

is unworthy of it; and if he does not delay he is like unto a dish wherein is

no salt, and if he delays more than is necessary he is like unto a dish wliieli

the salt hath spoiled.'

" IIow is he to ilo it? Tlie first time he is asked, he is to decline tlie ;

second time, he is to stir; and the third time, he is to move his legs and
asceml bel()re the ark. Even on the most solemn occasions when the whole
<'ongregafion fasted and asseinliled witii the president and viei'-presiiient of
the Saidiedrim for natiimal humiliation and prayer, no stated minisfer is

i»j)oken of; l)ut it is said that one of the aged men present is to deliver a
penitent iai adilress. and another is to offer up tlie solenin prayi'rs.
•'
It was afterwards ordained that, '
even if an elder or sage is pnseiit in
17
258 ^^IH'^ LIFE or JESUS, the CHRIST.

On the morning of the Sabbath referred to, Jesus

was called to conduct the service. After the litur-

gical services were finished, which consisted of Psalms

and prayers, said and chanted responsively by the
reader and the congregation, he proceeded to read the
lesson for the day from the Prophets. It so happened
that Isaiah was read, and the portion for the day con-
tained these remarkable words, mainly as rendered in
the Se|)tuagint :
—
" The spirit of the Lord is upon me,
Because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor;
He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted,
To preach deliverance to the captives,
And recovering of sight to the blind,
To set at liberty them that are bruised,
To preach the acceptable year of the Lord."

To understand the force of these words, one must

read the context in the sixtieth chapter of Isaiah, and
consider that it is the culmination of all the glowing
promises of this great prophet respecting the Messiah.
When Jesus had finished reading and had shut the
book, there seems to have come over him a change
such as his countenance often assumed. Before he
uttered a word
further, such was his appearance that
" the eyes of allthem that were in the sj nagogue were
fastened on him." Nor was the wonder decreased when
he broke silence, saying, "This day is this scripture
fulfilled in your ears." There must have been not

the congregation, ho is not to be asked to officiate before the ark, but that
man is to who is apt to officiate, who has children, whose
be delegated
family are free from vice, who has a proper beard, whose garments are
decent, who is acceptable to the people, who has a good and amiable voice,
who understands how to read the Law, the Prophets, and the Ilagiographa,
who is versed in the hoiiiili-tic, legal, and traditional exegesis, and who
knows all the benedictions of tin- service.'"
 "

EARLY LAE^RS IN GALinEE. 259

only great majesty in his manner, but also great sweet-

ness, for a thrill went through the audience, and they
all '^
bare him witness, and wondered at the gracious
words which proceeded out of his mouth " : nothing
could so touch the Jewish heart as an intimation that
the Messiah was near or was come.
It was but a transient feeling, more a testimony to
the power of him who w\as teaching than to their own
docility ; for in a moment more
it came over the con-

gregation, that, after was but their old to\\ais-

all, this
nian. Their vanity was wounded, and the more vulgar
among them began to whisper, " Is not this Joseph's
son ? " " Is not this the carpenter's son ? " Others
confirmed it, for " Is not his mother called Mary ?

Everybody knew him and his family, and the poor

way in which they had always lived. They knew his "•

brethren, James and Joses and Simon and Judas, and

his sisters." Out of such a connnon set it was not
likely that a prophet would arise, particidarly when
it was known how little education Jesus had received.

Where did he get his learning ? How should our

plain townsman be able to do the mighty works that
we have heard of his performing ? " Whence hath
this man this wisdom?"

Jesus did not lesent their unfavorable speeches con-

cerning his motiier and her family. Had he chosen,
lie could have made his townsmen enthusiastic in his
belialt", by doing some ''mighty work" whicli. making
Nazareth famous, would give every one of his old neigh-
bors some |)arlicipatiou in its glory. But ali'ea(l\" pride
and vanity were their bane. It was better that they
should be moi'titied, and not iullated still more. Jesus
pereeivecl their spirit, aud revealed it iu his reply:
260 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

" Ye will surely say unto me this proverb. Physician,

heal thyself: whatsoever we have heard done in Ca-
pernaum, do also here in thy country." That is, You
do not care for me, or for the truth but you are jeal-
;

ous of a neighboring town, and angry because I do not

make as much of Nazareth as of Capernaum. You
think that I am not a Divine teacher because I pass
by my own town. But thus God often administers.
He passed by the whole Jewish nation, when, during
the great famine, by his prophet Elijah he held com-
mimion with a Phoenician widow, though there was
many a Hebrew widow in the land. Also he passed
by the thousands of lepers in that region, and healed
a Syrian, Naaman, who was at that very time chief offi-
cer to a heathen king holding Israel in subjugation.
These words were like flame upon stubble. The
love of country among the Jews was a fanaticism.
It carried with it a burning hatred of foreigners, as
heathen, which no prudence could restrain. Everj^
year this ferocious spirit broke out, and was put down
by the slaughter of hundreds and thousands of Jews.
It made no difference. Like the internal fires of the
globe, it burned on. even when no eruption made it
manifest. The historical facts alleged could not be
gainsaid ; but the use of them to show that God cared
for other nations, even at the expense of- the Jews,
produced a burst of uncontrollable fury. The meeting
broke up in a fierce tumult. Jesus was seized by the
enraged crowd that went shoutinij: throuo-h the street,

and hurried toward one of the many precipitous ledges

of the mountainous hill on whose sides Nazareth was
built, that they might cast him down headlong. They
were dragging him hastily onward, when, behold, the
 EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 201

men let go tlieir hold, and no one dared to brave his

eye. "Passmg through the midst of them, he went his

^
way."
It may seem to be not in accordance with the mani-
festprudence of Jesus to bring on an attack by such
pungent discourse in his own town, when he had just
left Judaea on account of the danger of collision with
the leading men, and had taken refuge in Galilee as
being safer, and as affording him opportunity to unfold
the great spiritual truths which carried the world's life

in them. Where and when he should preach were

certainly matters of discretion ; Ijut trhat he should
preach could not be That his
left to expediency.
truth would be disagreeal)le to his hearers, and provoke
opposition, never deterred him from pungent personal
discourse. If the resistance was such as to be likely
to bring his ministry prematurely to an end, he re-
moved to some other place, but did not change the
searching character of his teaching. The outburst of
wounded vanity and of fanatical religious zeal amono;
liis and turbulent fellow-townsmen would
ignorant
have little efi'ect outside of Nazareth. Such an uproar
in Jerusalem might have driven him from Judiva, and

even from Palestine. Nazareth was not Jerusalem.

Much question has arisen respecting the position of

' Tliis sceiu- is ^^ivtii by Luku (iv. IG - .']()) and by Matthew (xiii. 53-r)8).
Many coininentators rcf^anl these as separate occasions, placing the scene
as fjiven l)y Mattlicw much hitcr in the liistory. It seems scarcely ])ossihle
that two visits should have heen maih- Id Nazareth, not only with the same
;i(!neral residts, hut with (juestiiins and answers almost identical; especially
tliat the proverl) usi-d l)y Ji-sus in reply to his en\ ions townsmen should
serve both o<Tasions. There are no (Hditnitics which coniiMJ the harmonist
to make two separate scenes of this kind, and everv prolialiiiity re(|uircs
tlitni to lie the same; thonjih, in narration, each Kvan;;elist, as would be
natural, ;;ives some particnlais omitted iiv the oilier.
262 ^^^^ ^-^^^^' OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

the declivity toward which the enraged Jews were

bearing Jesus. From the modern village, it is two
miles to the precipice which overhangs the valley of
Esdraelon. Thomson says that near to this precipice
his guide pointed out the ruins of the ancient village
of Nazareth, which in that case Was much farther south
than the present site. But the point is not essential.
Nazareth is built upon the side of a mountainous ridge,
which, wherever the ancient village Avas placed, — for
it was but a hamlet, — furnishes enough places for the
purpose intended by the Nazarenes. was not for It
landscape effect, but for an execution, that ihQ crowd
were looking for a ledge, and twenty feet was as good
for such a purpose as fifty; especially if the plunge
were followed by stones, — a method of terminating a
discussion with which the Jews were quite familiar.^
If we regard the three accounts of the transaction at
Nazareth as referring to the same visit, it is plain that
Jesus did not leave the village immediately. We are
not obliged to suppose that he escaped from the mur-
derous hands of his townsmen by a miracle. Some

'
W. H. Dixon,The Hob/ Land, gives a strikinji; view of Nazareth
in :
—
" Four miles south of the strong Greek city of Saphoris, liidden away
among gentle hills, then covered from the base to the crown with vineyards
and fig-trees, lay a natural nest, or basin, of rich red and white earth,
star-like in shape, about a mile in width, and wondrously fertile. Along the
scarred and chalky slope of the highest of these hills spread a small and
lovely village, which, in a land where every stone seemed to have a story, is
remarkable as having had no public history and no distinguishable native
name. No great road led up to this sunny nook. No traffic came into it.

Trade, war, adventure, pleasure, pomp, passed by it, flowing from west to
east, from east to west, along the Roman road. But the meadows were
aglow with wheat and b:irley. Near the low ground ran a belt of gardens
fenced with hjose stones,in which myriads of green figs, red pomegranates,

and golden citrons ripened in the summer sun. High up the slopes, which
were lined and planted like the Rhine at Bingen, hung vintages of purple
 EARLY LABORS LN GALILEE. 263

have believed that he became invisible or that he ;

changed his appearance, so that the people did not

recognize him or that he melted like a cloud out of
;

their hands.
The language of Luke is, " But he, passing through
the midst of them, went his way." That Jesus at times
assumed an air of such grandeur that men were awe-
struck, and could not bear either his eye or his voice,
we know. The hardened soldiers that went to Geth-
semane to arrest him fell to the ground when he con-
fronted them. There are many instances of this power
of his person to make men quail. (See Chapter VII.)
We are inclined to the supposition, that Jesus assumed
a manner of such authority that even the riotous crowd
let fall their hands, and that he walked quietly away
from out of their midst.
This unhappy visit to Nazareth was the last. He
could not there bestow the mercies which doubtless
he would have conferred upon a spot that must have
been endeared to him by a thousand associations and
experiences of youth, and where, according to Mark,

grapes. In the plain among the corn, and beneath the mulberry-trees and
figs, shone daisies, poppies, tulips, lilies, anemones, endless in their pro-
fusion, brilliant in their dyes. Low down on the hillside sprang a well of
water, bubl)liiig, plentiful, and sweet ; and above this fountain of life, in a long
street straggling from the fountain to the synagogue, rose the homesteads
of niiiny shepherds, eraftsmen, and vine-dressers. It was a lovely and
humble place, of which no poet, no ruler, no historian of Israel had ever
taken note."
It need scarcely ])c said, that, except the hills an<l terraces and the
fountain, there is iKttliing now in or about Nazareth that could have been
there in Christ's youth.Tlie legends that abound respecting his infancy
and youth are unworthy of a moment's consideration. Over the youth of
Christ, in Na/areth, there rests a silence far more impressive than anything
which the imagination can frame, and on which the puerile legends break
with imjH itincnt intrusion.
264 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

his sisters yet dwelt. " And are not his sisters here
with us?" (Mark vi. 3.) The temper of this people
repelled his gracious offers of kindness. It is true that
" he laid his hand upon a few sick folk, and healed

them." But we may easily believe that he would have

been glad to make Nazareth a monument
of benefac-
tions. A year had passed since his baptism by John.
Already he had experience of the unbelieving temper
of his age and countrymen but there was something
;

in the fierceness and repulsive manners of his fellow-

townsmen that surpassed all ordinary experience, " and
he marvelled because of their unbelief"
Capernaum henceforth became his home, in so far as
he can be said to have had a home at all during the
year now before him, and which was the great period
of his activity.For the ministry of Christ covered but
a little more than two years, and his chief labor was
compressed into a single one.^
From this time Jesus seems either to have lived in
retirement for about two months, or, if he carried for-

ward his work of teaching, no allusion is made to it

by any of the Evangelists. But in March of this year
he goes again to Jerusalem, probably to the Feast of
Piirim, —a feast instituted to keep in remembrance
the great deliverance which the Jews in captivity re-
ceived at the hands of Esther.^

' " Tlie ministry of our

Lord would seem to liave lasted about two years
and three months, i.from his baptism, at the close of 27 A. D. (780
e.

A. U. C.) or bej^nnning of 2« A. D. to the last Passover in 30 A. D. The

opinions on this subject have been apparently as much divided in ancient
as in modern times The general feeling of antiquity was, that our
Lord's entire ministry lasted for a period, speaking roughly, of about three
years, but that the more active part .... lasted one..'"'— Ellicott's Lec-
tures on the TJfeof our Lord Jesus Christ, (Boston, 1862,) ]). 14.5, note.
* John simply says that it was a " feast of the Jews." It might be, there-
 EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 265

This visit of Jesus to Jerusalem was memorable, not

only for the beneficent miracles of mercy wrought by
him there, but for the decided alienation of the Phari-
sees, and the beginning on their part of that deadly
hatred which little more than a year afterwards accom-

plished his crucifixion.

Jesus was not, like the Rabbis, accustomed to hold
himself apart from the common people, and to show
himself only to admiring disciples. There are many
indications that he moved about inquiringly among the
poor, and made himself familiar with their necessities.
He shortened the distance between himself and the
plain common people as much as possible. It was in
one of these walks of mercy that he came one Sabbath
day to was without the
the pool of Bethesda, which
walls of Jerusalem and near to the Sheep Gate but ;

the spot is not now known. That which has for ages
been pointed out as the site of Bethesda a dry reser- —
voir on the north of the Temple wall is now given —
up. This " pool " was an intermitting fountain, whose
waters were supposed to be healing, if used at the
time of their regurgitation. Around it, for the con-
venience of the had been built a colonnade, or
sick,

porch, and there the diseased and the crippled awaited

their chance to descend.
It was to just such places that Jesus was likely to

tore, tlie DcMlicatioii, tlu> Feast of Puriin, tlii; Passovor. flii' Penti'cost, or tlie
Feast of Tabernacles, vvliirh till, respectively, in the months of December,
March, April, May, and September. The best anthorities are irreconcilably
at variance as to which " feast " is meant ; whichever view one takes, it will

be only cfmjectnre, rather than probability. Ci'rtainty there is none. 'Hie

value of the truths of the ;^uspel is not atlected bv the utter confusion of
chronolofjists. The consecutive mili r of many of the events in Christ's
life cannot be precisely (leterniiiied ; but this does not clian};;e their moral
worth, nor cast any suspieion npnn ilieir authentieity.
266 '^^^"'^ ^^^'^^" OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

come ; and on this Sabbath day he beheld a sufferer

nnable to help himself and without friends to assist

him. None are more apt to be selfish than the sick.

Each one seeks his oVn and is indifferent to the

cure,
sufferings of others. This man had brought upon him-
self, by some course of dissipation, the evils which af-
flicted him (John v. 14); but it was enough that he

suffered. Jesus saluted him with the question, " Wilt

thou be made whole ? " and the man, not knowing
the stranger, and naturally supposing that he was
asking only the reason of his delay in entering the
pool,excused himself by pleading his inability to con-
tend with the scrambling crowd that plunged into the
waters a't the favored moment. As yet Jesus was but
little known. He had neither preached in Jerusalem,
nor wrought miracles in any such public way as to
bring his Divine power clearly before men. He did
not, therefore, require the exercise of faith in this

cripple as a condition of mercy. He surprised him

with the peremptory command, " Rise Take up thy !

bed, and Walk " Then came the sudden thrill of

!

health The cripple had been bathed in no fountain

!

stirred by an angel. From the Fountain of life had

fallen on him the healing influence. His amazement
of jo}^must be imagined.
Behold him now with nimble step ascending to the

city ! He is stopped. What is it ? Why, he is carry-

ing with him his bed ! He has forij^otten that it is the
Sabbath. not lawful for thee to carry thy bed."
"It is

Was an Oriental bed, then, so large as to make an

uncomely appearance upon the man's shoulder ? No,
it was but a pallet, to be spread, like a blanket, on the
ground. Rolled up, it was a l)nu(lle less than a sol-
 !

EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 267

dier's overcoat, and could be carried under the arm

without inconvenience. But it was the Sabbath day.
A Jew might play on the Sabbath, join in social fes-
tivity, grow hilarious, but he must not work

There is no evidence that Jesus did not keep the

Sabbath day as it was enjoined in the Law of Moses.
He certainly did not trample it under foot, nor in any
way inidervalue it. It was against the glosses of the
Pharisees that he strove. They had added to the Law
innumerable explanations which were deemed as bind-
ing as the original. The Sabbath day had become a
snare. By ingenious constructions and by stretch of
words the Jews had turned it into a day of bondage,
and made it a monument of superstitions. No Jew
must kindle a fire on that day, nor even light a can-
dle. A conscientious Jew would not snuff his candle
nor put fuel upon the fire on the Sabbath. There were
thirty-nine principal occupations which, with all that
were analogous to them, Avere forbidden. " If a Jew
go forth on the Friday, and on the night falls short of
home more than is lawful to be travelled on the Sab-

bath day (i.two thousand yards), there must he set

e.

him down, and there keep his Sabbath, though in a

wood, or in a field, or on the highway-side, without all
fear of wind and weather, of thieves and robbers, all
care of meat or drink." " The lame may use a staff,

but the Ijlind may Not being indispensable, for

not."
a blind man would come under tlie
to carry a stafi'

head of carrying burdens on the Sabbath. '' Men must

not fling more corn to their poultry than will serve
that day, lest it may grow by lying still, and tlicy be
said to sow their corn upon the Sabbath." "They may
not carry a flap or fan to drive away (he Hies." That
would be a species of labor.
268 ^'/^^^ f'ff-^''^ 0^^ JESUS, THE CHRIST.

It was not enough that every device was seized to

prevent formal or honest labor, but there was joined
to this rigor an ingenious dishonesty. " To carry any-
thing from one house to another is unlawful ; but if

the householders in a court should join in some article

of food and deposit it in a certain place, the whole
court becomes virtually one dwelling, and the inmates
are entitled to carry from house to house whatever
they please." " It is unlawful to carry a handkerchief
loose in the pocket ; but if they pin it to the pocket,
or tie round the waist as a girdle, they may carry it
it

anywhere." Many of the things which a Jew would

by no means suffer himself to do on the Sabbath, such
as putting fuel on the fire, or performing tasks of cook-
ing, he would permit a Gentile servant to do for him,
if he were rich enough to employ one, inasmuch as
the Gentiles were not under the Law ! At the very
time that the Rabbis were devising restrictions on the
one side, they were shrewdly outwitting the Law by

cunning devices on the other. " A Sabbath-day's

journe}^ " was two thousand paces, measured from
one's domicile. But b}' depositing food at the end of
the two thousand paces on a previous day, and
first

calling that place a domicile, they were sufibrcd to go

forward another Sabbath-day's journey. Thus super-
stitious rigor led to evasions and h3'pocrisy.
But this strictness was not exercised for the sake of
keeping the Sal)l)atli as a day of moral instruction and
of devotion. For, though the Temple service was
more full on that day than on ordinar}^ days, and there
were religious services in the synagogues, yet the Sab-
bath was observed on the whole as a day of recreation
and social enjoyment. Feasts were given, and a large
 EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 269

hospitality was exercised. The Jewish Sabbath, from

the days of Moses, and in its original intent and spirit,
was as much a day of social pleasure as of religious
observance. Boisterous hilarity was disallowed, and
all secular work, that is, toil for profit of every kind,
was a capital offence. It was upon this clause that

the Pharisaic ingenuity had run into fantastic extrava-

gances, and a day originally appointed for reasons of
mercy had become a burden and an oppression.
The fortunate man who had been healed did not,
when questioned, even know to whom he was indebted.
" It is the Sabbath day," said the pious townsmen " it ;

is not lawful for thee to carry thy bed." But his bet-
ter nature told him that one who could perform such a
miracle upon him stood nearer to God, and was more
fit to be obeyed, than the men of the Temple. Brave-
ly he replied, " He that made me whole, the same said
unto me, Take up thy bed, and walk." But afterward,
having met Jesus in the Temple, he let it be known
who was that had healed him. The excitement ran
it

high. So enraged were the Jews, that they did " per-
secute Jesus, and sought to slay him." Without doubt,
the excitement and uproar took place in the Temple
court.
been thought, and with reason, that Jesus
It has
was arraigned before the Sanhedrim, if not formally,
yet in a hastily convoked meeting. The discourse re-
corded by John (v. 17-47) could scarcely be the flow
of an iminterrupted speech. It bears all the marks
of a controversy. broken up into disconnected
It is
topics, as if between them there had been ai'guments
and answers, or some taunting retorts, although the
Evangelist has not presented any part of the disputa-
270 7'///'" fll-'' '^^^' -f^^SUS, THE CHRIST.

tion,except the points of the Lord's replies. To the

charge of breaking the Sabbath by working a miracle,
Jesus answers with an allusion to God's ceaseless ac-
tivity on all days alike which, even were it not the
;

highest truth, would be the noblest poetry, and not the

lessemphatic because so condensed, — " My Father
worketh hitherto, and I work."
Why should I forbear on the Sabbath to do good ?

Does the sun cease shining ? Do rivers stand still ?

Do the grasses not grow, and fruits ripen, and birds
sing ? Does Nature keep Sabbath ? Is not God for-
ever going on in ceaseless benefaction, without vari-
ableness or shadow of turning ? Is it not lawful for
children to be born on the Sabbath ? for medicine to
carry forward the cure ? for the weak to grow strong ?
Through all God's realm the Sabbath is a day of active
mercy, and why should I refuse a work of benevo-
lence ?

The reply was unanswerable. It was a sublime ap-

peal from the rescripts and traditions of man to the

authority of God. Jesus appealed from custom to na-

ture. Evading this reply, they seized upon the fiict

that he had called God his Father, thus, as they said,

"making himself equal with God." They broke out

upon him with truculent fury, and sought to tear him
in pieces. Yet by some means the storm was quieted.
The discourse is remarkable in every respect, but in
nothing more than the direct assumption of Divine
authority. He rises above all conventional grounds
and above all human sanctions. He declares that he
acts with the direct authority of God. " The Son can
do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father
do." Instead of explanation and apology to his ac-
 EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 271

cusers, Jesus boldly claims their submission to his au-

thority !
"
The Father judgeth no man, but hath com-
mitted judgment
all to the Son that all men should
:

honor the Son, even as they honor the Father." He

now drops the title Son of Man, which he had always
used among the common people, because it drew him so
near to them and made them and him of one kin, and
for the first time calls himself the Son of God. " The

hour is coming, and now is, when the dead shall hear
the voice of the Son of God." As it was a question
of authority before the Sanhedrim, he places himself on
grounds above all reach of competition or of compar-
ison. He not only does not acknowledge their right to
control his conscience, but he declares that he will hold
them and all mankind responsible to himself. " The
hour is coming, in the which all that 'are in the graves
shall hear His voice, and shall come forth ; they that
have done good, unto the resurrection of life and they ;

that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damna-

tion."
The members of the court must have looked upon
him with wonder as well as with rage. He disowned
the whole value of that system of authority on whicli
their pride, their power, and their ambition were built.
He refused to stand before them as a culprit, or to
be catechised as a scholar. He soared to the highest
heaven. He placed himself beside God. He clothed
himself with Divine authority. He judged his judges,
and condemned the highest tribunal of his people.
Instead of apologizing for his deeds, or even explaining,
he arraigned the Saidiedrim. He reminded them that
for a time they had been disposed to accept John as a
prophet: "Ye were willing for a season to rejoice in
272 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CnRTST.

his light." John also was now a witness for Jesus.

But no man could be an adequate witness of his nature

and authority. Only God could authenticate these.
By his miracles he showed that God had borne witness
to hhn. He rebuked them for gross ignorance of those
Scriptures in which it was their pride and boast that
they were profoundly versed. He brings home to them
mutual flatteries, their ambitions,
their worldliness, their
their poverty of love, their wealth of selfishness.
Overawed, their tumultuous anger died, and Jesus
went forth from this first encounter with the rulers of
his people safe for the present, but a marked man, to
be watched, followed, entrapped, and, when the favor-
able moment should come, to be slain.

We must not suppose that the Pharisees were moved

to this controversy with Jesus from any moral regard
for the Sabbath. It was simply a question of power.
To attack what may be called their theology of the
Sabbath was to attack the most salient point of their
religious authority. If they might be safely defied
before the people on this ground, there was no use in
trying to maintain their authority as leaders on any
other. They could not allow themselves to look upon
Christ's merciful deed in the light of humanity. It was
to them a political act, and in its tendency a subver-
sion of their teaching, of their influence, and of their
supreme authority.
No party will yield up its power willingly and a j

religious party less willingly than any other, because it

believes itself to represent the Divine will, and con-
strues all attack upon itself as resistance to Divine
authority. Its moral sense is offended, as well as its

avarice and ambition. There is no bitterness so intense

 EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 273

as that which comes when the moral feelino-s are cor-

nipted into alliance with men's passions. That is

fanaticism.
Althongh there is something admirable in this scene,
—a single man confronting the false spirit of the age,
the customs of his countrymen, and the active power
of their government, — yet it has its sadness as well.
Here began the death of Jesus. From this hour the
cross threw its shadow upon his path.
There were two other conflicts on this very question
which occurred about this time and though there is
;

nothing by which we may fix the place where they

occurred, some placing it near Jerusalem, and some,
with more probability, in Galilee, they may be fitly
grouped and considered together, for they all belong
to about the same period of Christ's ministry, and they
are, interiorly, parts of the same conflict.
This first collision settled the policy of the Temple
party. Word went out over all the land to their ac-
tive partisans that Jesus was to be watched. Wher-
ever he went from this time, his steps were dogged by
spies skulking emissaries listened for some indictable
;

speech and everywhere he found the Pharisees in a

;

ferment of malice.
In one of his circuits, whether in Judaea or in Gali-
lee not stated, he was on a Sabbath day. passing
is

through the fields. The barley harvest was near at

hand. The grain was turning ripe. His disciples,
being hungry, began to rub out the ripe kernels from
the barley-iieads and to eat them. According to the
refinements of the Pliarisees, this was equivalent to
/i(trrrsfi)ir/. Jesus was permitting his disciples to reap
grain-fields on the Sabbath ! To be sure, it was ])ut a
 ! !

274 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

few heads that were plucked, but harvesting did not

depend on much or Httle. One grain gathered on
the Sabbath had the moral character of harvest labor
Does this seem impertinent and impossible ? Not if

one considers that the Pharisee forbade men to walk

on the grass on the Sabbath, because in so doing some
seeds might be crushed out under their feet, and that
would be threshing No man must catch a flea on the
!

Sabbath, for that would be hunting No man on the !

Sabbath must wear nailed shoes, for that would be

bearing burdens
To make the criminality of Jesus sure, it was neces-
sary to call attention to the conduct of his disciples,
and secure his approval of it. Taking food that did
not belong to them was not an offence under the laws
of Moses, if it was done to satisfy hunger The alle- '

gation was, therefore, " Thy disciples do that which is

not lawful to do upon the Sahludh day!'' He first shapes
a reply that a Pharisee would feel, and then he places
the Sabbath on the broadest ground of humanity.
King David, the pride and glory of the Jews, was
never condemned for breaking a law which was regard-
ed with extraordinary sacredness. Driven by excess of
hunger, when fleeing from Saul, he entered the house
of God,^ deceived the higli-priest, seized and ate the
consecrated bread, taking it, as it were, from before
the very face of God. To save his life he committed
an act of sacrilege, and yet was never deemed guilty

' " When tlion comest into thy nt'iojhbor's vineyard, then thou mayest eat
grapes thy fill, at thine own pleasure; but thou shalt not put any in thy
vessel. When thou eoniest into the standing corn of thy neighbor, then
thou mayest phick the ears with thine hand ; liutthou shaltnot move a sickle
unto thy neighbor's standing corn." — Deut. x.xiii. 24, 25
* 1 Sam. xxi. 1-6.
 EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 275

of the sin of sacrilege. But it was not necessary to

refer to history. Right before their eyes, in their own
day, was the law of the Sabbath broken, and that too
by their holiest men. Did not the priests work every
Sabbath in the Temj)le, slaying sheep and oxen, draw-
ing water, cleaving wood and carrying it to the altar,
kindling fires, and all this, not in rare emergencies, but
habitually ? If the Pharisaic rule of the Sabbath were
binding, what should be said of men who every week
chose the holiest place, in the most public manner, to
violate the Sabbath by hard work ? No reply was
made to these words, for the best of reasons.
They could not deny that the rulers of the Temple
had authorit}' to permit the priests to work on the
Sabbath. But Jesus claimed that he was himself
superior in authority to the Temple. " In this place

is one greater than the Temple." To the Jews that

Temple was the symbol of their history, their re-
and their
ligion, civil law.It was the nation's heart.
When Jesus declared himself to be superior to the
Temple itself, it could be understood as nothing less
than grasping at sovereignty ; and as it was an af-

firmation in justification of an assault upon the most

sensitive part of their authority,
it could be understood

as nothing less than treadingunder foot the Sanhedriui.

Was it, then, one of those moments in which his heav-
enly nature illumined his person, and filled all that
looked on with admiration and amazement? If not,
how can we accomit for it tliat there was no pi'otest,
no outbui'st of wrath ?

This impcMMal mood was significant, too. l)ecause it

disclosed itself in the beginning of his contlict with the

Temple party, in the very calmness and morning of his
276 THE UFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

more open ministry. The same sovereignty of spirit

was more {ind more apparent to the end. Its assump-
tion was not, as Renan imagines, the final effect of con-
tinuous conflicts with the Jews it belonged to Jesus
:

from the beorinnino;. His life answered to either title,

Son of Man, or Son of God. In the spirit of sover-

eignty he claimed authority to repeal the legislation
of the Pharisees respecting the Sabbath, to restore the
Law to its original simplicity, and to leave to the in-
telligent moral sense of men what things were mer-
cifuland necessary on the Sabbath.
It remarkable that there should be a third conflict
is

of the same kind at about the same time. It shows that

the Pharisees had accepted the challenge, and were de-
termined to make an open issue with Jesus on the
subject of Sabbath-keeping. On a Sabbath not long
after the scene just now narrated, the people were
gathered in a synagogue, — where and
what one is in
not mentioned. Christ was teaching the people.
There
was among them a man whose right arm was paralyzed.
The Pharisees were there watching. They knew that
Jesus would l>e tempted by his humanity to break the
Pharisaic Sabbath by healing him. They hinted at the
man's presence b}^ asking Jesus, " Is it lawful to heal
on the Sabbath day?" Before answering them, Jesus
called to the paralytic, " Rise up, and stand forth in
the midst." Then, turning to his malicious questioners,
he put back to them their own question, lifted out of
its technical form, and placed upon moral grounds " Is :

it lawful on the Sabbath days to do good, or to do evil ?

to save life, or to destroy it ? " They did not dare to

answer when the case was thus brought home to every
man's common sense. But Jesus was willing to meet
 ;

EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 277

the question both on technical and on moral grounds.

The Pharisees permitted a shepherd to- extricate from
peril one of his sheep on the Sabbath day. Seizing
that permission to property interests, Jesus contrasted
with it their shameless indifference to humanity.
" How much then is a man better than a sheep ?

Wherefore it is lawful to do well on the Sabbath days."

This scene, slight as seems in the rehearsal, went
it

to the very heart of Jesus. To him nothing seemed so

repulsive as the soul of an intelligent man coiled up
in its selfishness and striking at the poor and weak.
Sins of excess, unbridled passions, vices and crimes,
he rebuked with much of i^ity as well as of sternness
but intelligent inhumanity roused his utmost indigna-
tion. This particular case was peculiarly offensive.
He turned upon his questioners an eye that none could
bear. Cahn it was, ))ut it burned like a flame. There
is no expression so unendurable as that of incensed love.
It is plain that he searched their countenances one by
one, and brought home to them a sense of their mean-
ness. " And when he had looked round about on them
with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their
hearts, he saith unto the man, Stretch forth thine
hand." It was healed.
Now came the rage of his ballled enemies. Tljey
"were filled with madness." They drew together in
counsel ; they began to call in as auxiliaries tbe venal
scoundrels that hung about Ileiod's court, seeking
"how they might destroy liiiu." couibiuing political
jealousy with ecclesiastical bitteiuess. As yet, their
malice was [)owerless. His hour had not couie.

We lia\(' here, in a more developed lorui than had

278 '^HE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

thus far appeared in the hfe of Jesus, the aggressive-

ness of love. He had shown himself to be personally
full of sympathy and kindness ; but now he makes
benevolence the criterion of justice and the test of
religion. He begins to bring the institutions, the
customs, and the maxims of his countrymen to the
criticism of the law of kindness. It is the first scene

in which we behold love equipped for conflict.

Whatever importance attached to the day in their
controversy, the Sabbath was a secondary matter. It
Avas not a question whether it was divine, nor whether
it should be abrogated, nor even how it should be kept;
it was the spirit of inhumanity, the hard-heartedness
of the religious chiefs, the unsympathetic and teasing
spirit wdth wdiicli they administered religious afliiirs

that was to be judged. It was more than a dispute

about an ordinance was a conflict between kindness
; it

and unmercifulness, between fraternal sympathies and

otficial authority, between mercy and relentless super-

stition.

When we hear Jesus saying, "I will have mercy,

and not sacrifice," and know that those words were
applied to the administration of law, we feel that a
new interpretation of justice has come. The Divine
aduiinistration of all law^sis toward mercy. Hence-
forth humanity judges them, and gives them permis-
sion to be. Pain and penalty are not abolished, but
they are no longer vindictive they are for restraint,
;

correction, and prevention. Justice is love pui-ging

things from evil and making them lovely.
The protests of Jesus against the Pharisaic ob-
servance of the Sabbath must not be regarded as dis-
countenancing the day itself as a Divine ordinance,
 EARLY LABORS IN GALILEE. 279

nor even as criticising the original methods of its

observance enjoined by Moses. He set his face against

the unfeeling use which the Pharisees of his time made
of it. It was the perversion of a day of mercy that he
resisted. In reasoning the case, Jesus laid down a prin-
ciple which affects all human institutions of every kind :

" The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the

Sabbath."
Institutions and laws have no sacredness in them-
selves. They have no rights as against the real wel-
fare of men. Laws are No law
servants, not masters.
must rule unless it will serve. But one thing on earth
is intrinsically sacred, and that is man, and he because

he is God's son and the heir of immortality. His na-

ture is sacred. Amidst all his sins, crimes, and corrup-
tions, there is stillwithin him the soul that came of
God, whose sake the whole round of nature is
for

ordained; —
and how much more civil laws and eccle-
siastical ordinances The state was made for man, not
!

man for the state.

The welfare of the state depends upon the sacredness
of the individual citizen. The tendency has been to
build up the state at all hazard, — to sacrifice the cit-
izen to public good, as if the good of the whole de-
manded tlie sacrifice of its luiits. Men may offer
tlieinselves up in great emergencies, revolutions, wars,
etc., but in the ordinary How of life the strength and
hap])in('ss of the unit will determine the prosperity
and power of the aggregate.
280 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

CHAPTER XIII.

A TIME OF JOY.

Thus far we have seen only the preparatory steps

of Christ's mmistry. A
year and a half had passed
since his baptism, of which period but an imperfect
record exists. The time was now come for the full dis-
closure of his energy. He began to feel in greater
measure the impulse of the Divine nature. He had
learned, in this last visit to Jerusalem, of John's arrest
and imprisonment. The field was open. He left the
scowling brotherhood of Juda^an Pharisees, who no
longer disguised their deadly intentions, and repaired
to Galilee, making Capernaum his head-quarters. We
must soon follow him in the repeated circuits which he
made from there, and note the details of his ministry.
It was the most joyful period of his life. It was a
full year of beneficence unobstructed. It is true that
he was jealously watched, but he was not forcibly re-
sisted. He was maliciously defamed by the emissaries
of the Temple, but he irresistibly charmed the hearts
of the common people. Can we doubt that his life was
full of exquisite enjoyment
? He had not within him-
which common men have.
self those conflicts There
was entire harmony of faculties within, and a perfect
agreement between his inward and his external life.
He bore others' burdens, but had none of his own.
His body was in full health his soul was clear and
;
 A TIME OF JOY. 281

tranquil ; his heart overflowed with an unending sym-

pathy. He was pursuing the errand which
loftiest

benevolence can contemplate. No joy known to the

human compares with that of successful benefi-
soul
cent labor. We cannot doubt that the earlier portions
of this year, though full of intense excitement, were
also full of deep happiness to him. Wherever he
came, he carried men's hearts with him. Whatever
town he left, there had been hundreds of hearts in
it made happy by his cleansing touch. At times the
excitement seemed likely to whirl him away. He was
obliged to repress it, to forsake the crowds and hide
himself for a while, — to withhold his miracles, lest
the overflowing enthusiasm should be mistaken by a
jealous government for political insurrection, and a
cruel end be put to the work of beneficence.
We love to linger in these thoughts. We are glad
that Jesus tasted joy as Avell as sorrow, — that there
were months of wonderful gladness. At times the
cloud of coming suffering may have cast its shadow
upon his path but his daily work was full of light.
;

Could he behold the gladness of household after house-

hold and be himselfunmoved ? Could he heal the sick
through wide regions, see the maimed and crippled
restored to activity, and not participate in the joy
which broke out on every liaud ? Could he console
the soriow iug. instruct the igiu)i";iiit, recall the wan-
deriuy;, condiiii the waverino;, and not (iud his heart
full of joyfuluess? Besides the wonder and admira-
tion which he excited on every hand, lie received I'rom
not a few the most cordial alfection, and returned a
richer love.
It is impossible not to see from the simple language
282 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

of the Evangelists, that his first circuits in GaHlee were

triumphal processions. The sentences which general-
ize the history are few, but they are such as could
have sprung only out of joyous memories, and indicate
a new and great development of power on his side, and
an ebullition of joyful excitement through the whole
community. " And Jesus returned m the poiver of the

Spirit into Galileeand there went out a fame of him

:

through all the region round about. And he taught

in their synagogues, being glorified of ally (Luke iv.
14, 15.)
To suppose that Jesus had no gladness in the work
which diffused so much happiness, that he could see
the tides ofexcitement flowing on every side without
sympathy, that he could touch responsively every
tender affection in the human soul and not have a
vibration of its joy in himself, is to suppose him less

than human. Any worthy conception of a Divine na-

ture must make it far richer in affection and sympathy
than men can be. Whatever rejoicing attended his
career through Galilee, we may be sure that no one
was more happy than he.
On the Sabbath he seems always to have resorted to
the synagogue, as did every devout Jew, just as Chris-
tians now betake themselves to churches. His fame
would not permit him to be only a listener. He was
called by the rulers of the synagogue to the place of
teacher, and from Sabbath to Sabbath he unfolded to
his countrymen the deep spiritual meanings hidden in
their Scriptures which had been buried under the Phar-
isaic traditions. But he did not confine himself to a
Scriptural and expository method of instruction. On
the Sabbath, and during the week-days, when fit occa-
 A TIME OF JOY. 283

sion offered, he seized the events which were taking

place before their eyes, and, applying to them the
criticism of tlie highest morality, he made them the
texts from wliich to develop a spiritual faith. More
of these discourses founded upon passing events are
recorded than of Scriptural expositions. Indeed, while
we have many allusions to Scripture, we have no
single discourse of Jesus which ma}- be strictly called
an expository one. The freshness of this method of
teaching, the abandonment of all mere refinements
and frivolous niceties, the application of humane good
sense and of rational justice to e very-day interests,
gave to his teaching a power wliich never accom-
panied the tedious dialectics of the Jewish doctors.
"And they were astonished at his doctrine: for he
taught them as one that had authority, and not as the
scribes. For his word was with power." (Mark i.
. . .

22 ; Luke iv. 32.)

An occurrence on one of the earliest, if not the very
first of the Sabbaths spent in Capernaum, will furnish
a good example of the scenes of this great year of his
ministry.
While Jesus was speaking in the synagogue, amidst
the ])roround stillness the people were startled by a
wild outcry. A poor wretch was there who ''
had the
spirit of an unclean devil." With the ])athos of intense
fejir lie criiMl out," Let us jdoue ; wliiit have we to do
with tlicc. lliou Jesus of Nazareth ? " All this might
have resulted IVoui the pungent nature of the teach-
ing, l)ut not the eiy. '•
I know thee who thou art. the
Holy One of (Jod," — this was sonu'thing more tliiiu

a raudoni speech. We may iuiauiiie the shock which

such a sei'Ue would produce in the luidst of a seriuou
284 ^V/A' IJFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

in one of our churches. Jesus, undisturbed and calm,

enjoined silence, and with a word of command drove
out the evil spirit. Then came the reactionall men
;

were filled with admiration and spread the news abroad.

But Jesus, withdrawing from the tunudt, secluded
himself during the heat of the day in Peter's house.
There he found Peter's mother-in-law prostrated with
a fever. At a touch of his hand she was healed, and
resumed her household duties before them all, as if she
had not been sick. The whole city was alive with
excitement.
During the fiery noons of Oriental cities men shut
themselves up in their houses but at evening they
;

pour forth, and the gate of the city is the grand resort.
Thither too, upon this same day, repaired Jesus, who
was always drawn toward the multitudes. He was
evidently expected and eagerly awaited. And now
appeared a scene which only the imagination can
depict. All the diseases which the violent heats in
that climate breed upon the uncleanly habits and the
squalid poverty of the masses were represented at
the gate by appropriate subjects. Fevers, dropsies,
paralyses, were there. The blind, the deaf, and hov- —
ering on the edge afar off — the lepers implored help.
The lame came limping, and those too sick to help
themselves were borne thither by their friends, until
the ample space was like a camp hospital. Jesus
comuienced among them his merciful work. It was
a solemn and joyful scene. Human misery was ex-
hibited here in many forms but as, one by one, the
;

touch or word of the Master healed it, came the re-

bound of exultatiou. Those who were coming, bear-
ing the sick on couches, met returning happy groups
 A TIME OF JOY. 285

of those who had been healed. Many tears of rejoic-

ing fell, as children were given back to despairing
mothers. Strange calmness in some natures, and wild
exhilaration in others, attested the rapture of deliver-
ance from loathsome disease. Never, in all their mem-
ories, had there been such an evening twilight of a
Sabbath day. But of all Avho went home that night
in ecstasy of gladness, there was not one whose nature
enabled him to feel the deep joy of Him who said, " It
is more blessed to give than to receive."

We always long to look into the souls of great men

at critical periods, to see how success or defeat affects
them. This had been a triumphal Sabbath to Jesus.
No oj^position seems to have arisen from any quarter.
His instructions had been received without cavil, and

had awakened an almost idolatrous enthusiasm. His

name was on every lip his praise resounded through
;

the whole neighborhood, and the day had closed by such

a luminous display of merciful benefactions as left all

his former deeds in the shade. The effect of such suc-

cess upon his own soul is dindy shown in the record
by the intimations of a probably sleepless night, and
his going forth long before daylight into a quiet place
for prayer. The excitement of beneficence lifted him
toward tlie Divine Spirit. If success had in any wise
tempted liim to vanity, he found a refuge in com-
munion with God. "And in the morning, rising up a
great wliile before day, he went out, and (k'parted into
a solitary place, and there prayed." (Mark i. 35.)
]>iit ihc limiiilt of excitement in tlie city could not
easily subside Karly ibe ])e()i)h' began to throng
Peter's house to liud liiui again. Peter and his bi-olli-

ers went forth to search for the wjinderer. We cau

 ;

286 THE lAFE OF JESUS, THE CI/IilST.

without violence imagine that he had selected one of

the near slopes of the hills which hedge in the Sea of
Galilee on its western limit. There lay the tranquil
waters. The were dissolving from its face as
last mists

the footsteps of the throng drew near. Simon salutes

him, saying, " All men seek for thee " and the people ;

with him press around Jesus with affectionate violence,

as if they would carry him back to the city in their
arms. They " came unto him, and stayed him, that he
should not depart from them." Tlie desire was natural;
but he had a mission of which they knew not. It was
not for him to settle in Capernaum, nor suffer them to
appropriate to themselves all his mercies. He replied
to their importunity, " I must preach the kingdom of
God to other cities also."
It is not to be supposed that the Pharisees joined in
this While there were just men
general applause.
among them, the great body were either secretly or
openly inimical to Jesus. But they were politic
they did not choose to array themselves against the
people in the hour of their enthusiasm. If at first
they hesitated, hoping that this man of singular in-
fluence might be used in the interest of their party,
they had now given up all such expectations, and
their enmity grew with his popularity. Thus at this
time they seem to have neither applauded nor op-
posed him.
Jesus journeyed, after the manner of the country,
on So thickly were the towns planted in popu-
foot.

lous Galilee that he needed to make but a short

march from one to another. It was the hospitable
custom of the time, when Jewish Rabbis went from
place to place, to provide for all their wants. Thus
 A TIME OF JOY. 2 (ST

Jesus was supported by the kindness of the people

wherever he labored. Can it be doubted that, among
so many who received at his hands priceless gifts of
healing or consolation, there were found numbers of
all classes who contested for the privilege of enter-
taining him ? And yet there is reason to believe
that he allied himself very closely with the poor
and laboring class. It is certain that in his passage
through Galilee, at a later day than that of which
we are speaking, he was dependent upon the contri-
butions of grateful women whom he had healed or
blessed by his teaching, and who accompanied his
disciples. (Luke viii. 1-3.) We also know that the
company of was organized
disciples into a family,
had a common treasury, and received into it the gifts
of benevolence for their joint support. Jesus never
scrupled to accept the hos])itality of the rich, for they
too were men ;
yet he seems to have been at no time
long separated from the poor and wretched of his
people. Haxl he dwelt among the rich and gone down
to the poor, he could never have come so near to
their hearts as when he ate their brciid, slept under
their huml)le roofs, and sympathized with their tasks
and labors, as his own earl}^ life peculiarly fitted him

to do. Many wanderer would come to him as he sat

a
among the who would not have dared to enter
lowl^',

the mansions of the rich. Yet one will in vain look

0)r a syllable in all his teachings that would favor the
prejudices which one class usually entertains against
another. He was faithful (o all in )('l)iikiiiL:- their
evil. But his sj)irit tended to draw men together, and
to unite the widely separated classes of society in the
sympathy of a connnon brotherhood.
288 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Immediately following the Sabbath whose history

we have given above, Jesus made the first of the series
of cirmnts which marked this period of his life, and by
which he compassed the whole of Galilee several times
during this year. So vague are the chronological
hints in the Evangelists, that we cannot note with pre-
cision either the several routes or the exact periods at
which the several journeys were made, nor ascertain
to which of the circuits belong certain descriptions
of the effects produced. It is probable that every
appearance of Jesus was the signal for great excite-
ment, that the course of ordinary affairs w'as inter-
rupted, and that the whole population in some in-
stances were turned out of the usual channels of life.

Not only did the people of each town throng his steps,
but there came from abroad, from widely different
directions, great multitudes, who crowded the roads,
choked up the villages, and went with him from place
to place. Matthew says that "great multitudes" of
people " followed " him from Galilee, from Decapolis
(the name of a region on the northeast of Palestine,
comprising ten cities), from Jerusalem, from Judaea
generally, and from beyond Jordan, and that his fame
"
was spread throughout all Syria." Every day added
to the excitement. It threatened to become revolu-
tionary. Every eminent miracle shot forth a new
ardor. Capernaum, on one occasion, was fjiirly be-
sieged, so that, as Mark says, he " could no more
openly enter into the city." How large these crowds
we have some means of judging by the
actually were,
numbers mentioned in the subsequent history of the
feeding of the uuiltitudes ; one case four thousand,
in
and in another case live thousand, were supplied with
 :

A TIME OF JOY. 289

food. It was certainly to be desired that the preach-

ing of Jesus should arouse the whole community but ;

an excessive and ungovernable excitement was unfa-

vorable to the reception of the truth, and subjected
the people to bloody dangers by arousing the sus-
picions of a vigilant and cruel government. Herod
would be likely to imagine that under all these pre-
tences of religion lurked some political scheme. The
Pharisees, as we know, had made league with the
Herodians against Jesus, and were fomenting malig-
nant jealousies. For these reasons it is not strange
that Jesus sought to allay enthusiasm, rather than to
inflame curiosity. But it was impossible ; his Avords
had no more effect than dew upon a burning prairie.
Is this surprising ? What if in one of our villages
such a scene as the healing of the leper, or the curing
of the paralytic, should take place ? For about this time
it was that in a "certain city" — what city we know
not —
Jesus saw one approaching him whose dress
marked him as a leper. By law the leper had no right
to come near to any one. He was bound, if any one
approached him unawares, to lift up a wail of warning
Such, however, was the repute
!
" Unclean ! imclean "

of Jesus for divine sympathy, that even lepers long

used to unkindness and neglect forgot their habits of
seclusion and avoidance. Right before the feet of the
Master a leper upon his face, and with intense sup-
fell

plication "besought" him: "Lord, if thou wilt, thou

canst make me clean."
was not needful to touch tliis loathsome creature.
It

A word would licnl liiiii. I)ii1 word would not ex-

;i

press tlic tenderness and vr;nning synipatliv of the

Saviour's heart. "And Jesus, niovetl with compassion,
290 ^'^'^^' ^^'1'^''^ ^-'''' '^J^SUS, THE CHRIST.

put forth Ms hand, and touched him, and saitli unto him,
" I will ; be thou clean."
That Jesus commanded him to go and exhibit him-
self, with appropriate offerings, to the Jewish priests,
may seem strange, when we consider how free Jesus
himself was from the conventionalism of his age.
There does not seem to be an instance in which he
ever set aside an original Mosaic rite or institute. It

was the additions made by the Pharisees that he

pushed away without reverence, and even with re-
pugnance. No other Jew was more observant of the
original relio;ious institutes of Moses than he who
came to "fulfil the law." He went behind the tra-
dition of the elders to the Law itself: nay, he accepted
the commands of Moses because they coincided with
the Divine will. " Ye have made the commandment of

God of none effect by your tradition."

In no way was the leper capable of expressing his
gratitude religiously other than by the customs of his
own people. He had not learned the higher forms of
spiritual life. He must speak his thanks to God in the
language which he had learned, even if some other were
a better language. All the expedients of external
worship in this world are but crutches to weak souls.

The true worship is in spirit. It requires neither altar,

nor priest, nor uttered prayer, but only the grateful
heart, open before Him who knows better than any one
can tell Him all that men would say.
The healed leper, however, did not obey the injunc-
tion. Carried away with overpowering joy, he went
blazing abroad the deed of mercy. Can we wonder ?
Leprosy was a living death. The worst form of the
disease, as it is seen in Palestine to-day, is described by
 !

A TIME OF JOY. 291

Thomson words
in these " The hair falls off from
:

the head and eyebrows the nails loosen, decay, and

;

drop off; joint after joint of the fingers and toes shrinks
np and slowly falls away. The gums are absorbed and
the teeth disappear. The nose, the eyes, the tongue,
and the palate are slowly consumed and finally the ;

wretched victim sinks into the earth and disappears,

while medicine has no power to stay the ravages of this
fell disease, or even to mitigate sensibly its tortures."
^

With what sensations must health be received back

by this exile from society, seeing life afar off, but not
participating in its joys ! In one instant his skin was
sweet and smooth, his face comely, his breath whole-
some. He might again clasp his mother in his arms
He might take little children upon his knee The !

lips of love would not now shrink from the kiss which
so long lay withered upon his lips ! What marvel if

his joy rang through the region round about, and

roused up other suffering wretches, who went throng-
ing toward the city, hopeful of a like cure ? Nor were
tliey disappointed. The narratives of the Evangelists
clearly imply that whole neighborhoods turned out with
their sick, and returned with every invalid healed. As
a frost kills malaria, or a wind sweeps impurity from
the sultry air, so the words of Jesus seemed to i)urif\'
the fountains of health in whole districts. None of all
that came were refused. It is in vaiu (o explain away
the mii-aculoiis elciiicHt in tlic few cases which are
given in detail, unless some natural solution can be
found for the healing oi"hundreds and thousands, re-
peatedly enected at different times and in different
neiirhhorhoods.
O
'
I'he Land (luil thr Ilnoky (Aiiuriciin itlitinii,) Vol. 11. p. .')11).
 ;

292 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE ClIJilST.

At length, when the beneficence of heahng had com-

pleted its work, Jesus retreated from the excitement,
from the curiosity, the admiration, the criticism, the
importunity of enthusiasm and affection, and hid him-
self in the near solitudes. The love of solitude is strik-
ingly shown in Jesus. Nothing exhausts one so soon
as sympathy with the active sorrows of men. Drawn
out on every side by men's needs, he regained his equi-
lil)rium in the "wilderness." It was there too that his
thoughts rose into connnunion with his Father. What
reminiscences of heaven had he ? What dim memo-
ries of his former life and joy came to him ? Was
not the silence of solitude full of whispers from the
spirit land ? No one can tell. There are many who
can testify that to them the solitudes that lie near to
every side of life have been as the dawn of the morn-
ing after a troubled night, as a cool shadow in the hot
noon, —
a fountain in a great and weary desert.
That Jesus did not confine his religious instructions
to Sabbath days, and that he occupied other places
than the synagogues, is plain from the accounts of his
sermons from boats to the people assembled on the
shore, and of his discoursing on the mountain-side, and
is seen in an occiun^ence which took place soon after his

return to Capernaum from his first circuit. He was

sitting in a private was soon noised
dAvelling. It
abroad in the city. Out rushed hundreds to find him.
The court of the house was choked with the crowd
the streets were thronged. There was " no room to
receive them, no, not so much as about the door and :

he preached ilie word unto them." While he was thus

engaged, four uu-u were seen bearing upon a litter
between thorn a poor paralytic, and seeking to pene-
 A TIME OF JOY. 293

trate the crowd. Impossible ! An eager throng, made

up of persons each seeking some advantage for himself,
and moved by no common impulse but that of selfish-
ness, is harder to be penetrated than stone walls and
wooden structures. All at once, as Jesus was teach-
ing, without doubt in such a one-story house as is still

to be seen in that same neighborhood, the roof above

his head was parted, —
as from its construction could
easily be done, and as was frequently done for va-
rious purposes, —
and through the opening was let
down before him the imhappy patient ! Struck with
their confident faith, Jesus, interrupted in his discourse,
naturally conferred that favor which to him was un-
speakably greater than any other: "Son, be of good
"
cheer ; thy sins be forgiven thee !

Instantly a hum of voices was heard. Confusion

arose ; for he was preaching, not to unlettered citizens
alone, but to au unusual number of the dignitaries of
the synagogue and Temple. " There were Pharisees
and doctors of the law sitting by, which were couie out
of every town of Galilee and Judiea and Jerusalem."
The bare enunciation of the forgiveness of sins could
hardly have disturbed these worthies. It must be that
Jesus uttered the words with the air of sovereignty.
It was one of those uioments in which his Divine nature
shone out with radiance. The Pharisees plainly re-
garded liiui as acting in his own right, and assuming
authority to forgive sins, wliich was a I)i\ine i)reroga-
tive. Tliey cried out, "Blasplieiuy ! blasphemy!" They
challenged him on the spot : "Who can forgive sins, but
(lod alone?" Jesus acce])ted their consti-uctiou, and
al'tei' some words of reasoning rej)lie(l, " 'i'hat ye may

know that the Son o!" Man hath power on earth to

294 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

forgive sins," — turning to the sick man, — " Arise,

take up thy bed, and go thy way unto thine house."

To the doctors there could be but one interpretation
of this response. It was an unequivocal claim of Di-

vinity.
Men have claimed for
suftering from halhicinutions
themselves dignities and titles transcend ently above
their merit. One must be himself suffering from an
hallucination who can imagine Jesus at this period of
his development be over-heated in brain, or fanati-
to
cal. His wonderful discourse, which drew and fasci-
nated alike the rudest and the most learned, his
calmness, his self-forge tfulness, and his tender sympa-
thy for others, are inconsistent with any supposition of
a tainted reason, and still less with an over-swollen pride
and self-conceit. And ^et, when liis attention was called
to the fact that forgiveness of sin was a Divine preroga-
tive, he did not explain that it was a delegated author-
ity, but reaffirmed his right to forgive of his own proper
self,and wrought a miracle in attestation of that right.
That his whole bearing was unusuall}^ impressive is
plain from the effect produced upon the common peo-
ple in the crowd. They liad seen repeated instances
of heah'ng and of other works of mercy. But there
was in this case something more than is set forth in
the narrative, and which must have been effected by
the majesty of his person and the greatness of his
spirit ; for as they dispersed they went softly and awe-
stricken, saying one to another, "We have seen strange
things to-day," — " We never saw it on this fashion."
Luke says, "They marvelled, and were filled with fear."
Matthew says they ''glorified God, which had given
such power unto men." What the Pharisees and the
 A TIME OF JOY. 295

doctors said we do not know.

That some of them
may have been mwardly convinced that this was the
Messiah, is quite probable but that the most of them
;

were only the more enraged and set against Jesus, is

more than probable.

It will be recollected that, soon after his baptism,

Jesus gathered a few disciples from among those who
coihpanied with John. Although they were found and
called in Judsea, yet they all lived in Galilee, went back
with him on his return thither, and are mentioned as
guests with him at the marriage in Cana. During
the long intervals of quiet and seclusion which Jesus
seems to have had during the first year after his bap-
tism, they seem to have gone back to their occupa-
tions, and awaited. doul)tless, the signal which should
recall them to him. Jesus was, in the eyes of his peo-
ple, a Rablu, or learned teacher, although probably he
was deemed irregular, and was out of favor with the
heads of schools. He followedall the customs of his

people when they were innocent ; and in his teaching

career he undoubtedly pursued the course which was

conuiion among Rabbis, of gathering classes of pupils,
and living with them, and even upon their contribu-
tions. The ])iipils were expected, inider due regulation,

to diffuse among otiiers the knowledge which they re-

ceived from their Rabbi. They sometimes expoimded
to the pe()})lc iiiKk'r the eye of their teacher ; and as
they advaiKH'd in ('a})acity, they were sent out upon cir-

cuits of their own. (Jreat pains was taken among the

Jews promote ('diicalion. Large schools existed in
to
Palestine, and in oilier lands wliillier the .lews had
mi<;;rated. In these schools was tannht iIk' whole round
296 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

of knowledge then existing ; — theology, philosophy,

jurisprudence, astronomy, astrology, medicine, botany,
geography, arithmetic, architecture, social duties, eti-
quette, and even trades, were taught. Indeed, it was
the boast of eminent Rabbis that they had learned a
trade, and could, if need be, support themselves by
their hands, without depending upon fees for tui-
own
tion and they prided themselves upon titles derived
;

from trades ; —
as, Rabbi Simon, the iveaver ; Rabbi

Ismael, the needle-maker ; Rabbi Jochanan, the shoemaker.

This will suggest Paul's occupation, that of a tent-
maker.
Besides the teaching of these high schools or col-

leges, instruction was provided for children, and

throughout Palestine there prevailed no inconsiderable
zeal in the cause of popular education. Through the
more elementary schools it is almost certain that Jesus
and his disciples had passed, and equally sure that they
had not studied in the higher seminaries or colleges.
The method of instruction pursued in Jewish schools
throws light upon the course pursued by our Lord.
The mode of imparting knowledge was chiefly cate-
chetical. After the master had lectured, the pupils
asked questions. To stir up their pupils if they grew
dull, allegories, riddles, and stories were introduced.

The parable was a favorite device with the Jewish

teacher. He often propounded questions, and, if his
pupils could not answer, solved them himself Christ's
method then was that of his age and countrymen, with
only such differences as might arise from different per-
sonality. Instruction from village to village ; a com-
pany of pupils going with him, both as learners and
assistants; the familiar and colloquial style of discourse ;
 A TIME OF JOY. 297

the use of parables and of enigmatical sentences ;

—
these were all familiar to his times. It was in matter,
and not in manner, that he differed from ordinary
teachers.
The time had now come for the permanent forma-
and it took place at or near
tion of his disciple-family,
Capernaum. We are charmed with the picture which
is given of the morning scene on the shores of Genesa-

retli. It breathes the very air of reality, and its sim-

plicity gives a clear picture of our Lord's manner. It
was early dawn, and those wliose avocations called
them to the busy shore were making the most of the
cool hours. Jesus came quietly to the water's edge,
and stood watching certain fishermen who had hauled
their nets upon the beach and were washing and
putting them in order. He was not left to himself;
for the people, as soon as they knew him, began to
press around him with questions and solicitations.
As they began to close in, he stepped upon one
of the fishing-boats, and, pushing out a little, turned
to the rude but eager crowd and delivered a dis-
course to them. His theme was doubtless taken from
something which lay before him. That Avas his cus-
tom. Both text and sermon have perished with the
pe()])le to whom they were spoken. As soon as he had
finished, be connnanded Simon to push out into deep
WMter and let down his net. Simon,
lo speak jjionipt

and over-confident, first excused himseU" on tlie ground

that tlioy bnd l)een trying all niglit and tbat tbere was
no use in tr\in<!: a^ain ; and then, havni<i: eased bis wil-
fulness, he complied with the request. No sooiut was
tliis (lone llian sucli ;i multitu(U' of (isb was secured as
tb('\' had never seen at aii\' lime bcfoi-c. Indrcd, Siuion
298 'i'iJE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

.saw in it a Divine power. His boldness and familiarity

forsook liini. He stood before a superior being, and his
own iniworthiness was the first impression which seized
him. He fell down
" Depart
at Jesus's knees, saying.
from me for I am a
; sinful man, Lord." Not far
away were the brothers, James and John, who had
a partnership with Simon. Them also Jesus called.
Without ado, and unhesitatingly, they forsook their
property and their occuj^ation, and from this time did
not leave him. They could not mistake the import of
his call: "Follow me. I will from henceforth make you
to become fishers of men." The whole scene is natural
and harmonious. There was no striking assumption of
authority. Fishermen were approached through their
own business, by methods which were adapted to their
habits and ideas.
Tlie call of Levi, better known by the name of Mat-
thew, is recorded more briefly. He ^vas a tax-gatherer
under the Roman o;overnment. It was an uno-racious
office. It was the last position in which to look for an
apostle. Collecting customs-dues of his own people
to feed the court of Herod and to uphold the Roman
usurpation, with profit to himself, was not likely to
endear him to countrymen, nor to prepare his own
his
heart for the unremuuerative and wanderino; life of
which he was called. Yet there was in
self-denial to
the few simple words of Jesus a charm that wrought
instantly. "Follow me." "And he arose," ("left all,"
says Luke,) " and followed him."
It is not unlikely that Matthew, like Simon, John,
James, and Philip, had already been a disciple of Christ,
and like them had never separated himself from his
regular business ; so that the call, which seems to us
 A TIME OF joy. 299

80 sudden, was far less peremptory and unexpected to

him than it seems in the narrative.
We are not to confound the outside disciples of Christ
with the inner circle, — the family of his Apostles, —
who were called " that they should be with him, and that
he might send them forth to preach." His Apostles
were disciples, but all his disciples were not Apostles.
There was collected in every circuit a large disci^^le
Ijand without organization, attached to his ministrations,
rather than to his person. Of the company of twelve
disciples there were three pairs of brothers. All of
them were All were from the humbler
Galileans.
walks of life, though in several instances they were
not poor. Levi had a house of his own, and could give
to his Master a " great feast." James and John, sons
of Zebedee, conducted a business which enabled them
to employ under-servants and their mother, Salome,
;

" ministered of her substance " to the Master's support.

It is command, to
impossible, from the materials at our
ascertainupon what principle of selection the disciples
were gathered. But few of them asserted any such
iudividuahty as to bring their names into view during
tlie ministry of Jesus.
The evil record of Judas will keep his name in
memory. Peter was conspicuous through the whole
ciirccr. John was specially associated witli the Master.
With IV'ter and John was associated James, though
little excepthis name appears in the Ciospel narra-
tives. They were all selected froui the common walks
ol' life. Noue of them give evidence of peculiar dejitli
of religious I'eehug. None except John ever exhibiti'd
auy traits of gcuius. 'I'hat they were subject to the
couuuou fauhs oI" hinuanitv aliuiidaiit appears in
I
\-
 ;

300 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

their disputes among themselves, in their worldly am-

bitions, in the j)lotting to supersede each other, in
their rash and revengeful imprecations of judgments
upon the villagers who had treated Jesus with disre-
spect, and in their utter lack of coiu^age when the final
catastrophe was approaching. They partook of all the
errors of their age. They were as little competent to
understand the spiritual teachings of their Master as
were the average of their countrymen. They believed
in an earthly kingdom for the Messiah, and, with the
rest of their people, anticipated a carnal triumph of the
Jews over all their enemies. They could not be made
to understand that their Master was to be put to death
and when he was arrested, they " all forsook him and
tied." They hovered in bewilderment around the sol-
emn tragedy but only one of them, John, had the
;

courage to be present and near at the crucifixion of

their Teacher. Looking external!}^ upon these men,
contrasting them with such as Nicodemus and Joseph
of Arimathea, the question arises whether among all
the more highly cultivated Jews, among the Phar-
isees and doctors, there might not have been found
sincere men, of deeply religious natures, of educated
intelligence, who, under the same amount of personal
instruction, would have been far more capable of car-
rying forward the work of the new kingdom. All
that can be known is, that Jesus chose his disciples, not
from Judtea, but from Galilee, far away from the Temple
influence and in a province much aftected hy the for-
eign spirit that he selected them, not from the specifi-
;

cally religious class, but from the working people.

None are mentioned as taken from agricultural pur-
suits, and all anIiosc occupations are mentioned were
HilliP^
 A TIME OF JOY. 301

more or less concerned with commerce. That there

were reasons m his own mind for the selection none
can doubt, and none can ever know what the rea-
sons were. That he felt for his immediate followers
a strong affection is plain, and that his regard was
strengthened to the end of his life can be doubted by
none who read those incomparable discourses of love
which immediately preceded his arrest, and which John
alone records, —
John, the most impassioned, the most
susceptible, and at length the most perfect representa-
tive of his Master's spirit.

It will ])e well to look back, before considering that

remarkable discourse of Christ's, familiarly called the
"Sermon on the Mount," and to consider the character
of his teaching in this the first period of his ministry.
We shall be struck with three tliin£»:s : the stimulating
character indicated, the remarkable partnership of word
and deed, and the absence of any public claim to the
Messiahship. This latter fact is the more remarkable,
since, in his conversation with the woman of Samaria,
he distinctly avows himself to be the Messiah. Nowhere
is there evidence that he proclaimed this truth in his

pul)lic discourses, and in the abstracts and fnigments

which were preserved there is nothing of the kind.

Neither does there seem to have been that presenta-
tion of himself as the source of spiritual life that is

so wonderful at a later stage of his teaching. lie aj)-

parently aimed hrst at tlie work of arousing the moral

sense ol" the people. His characteristic tlu'uic at first

was, " Repent I TIk' kingdom of licavcn is at band!"

It is not to be sup])osc(l tli;il be went IVom ])lace to

place uttering these woi'ds as a text or formula. They

 ;

302 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

rather describe the genius of his preaching. Tt aroused

in men an and expectation of a nobler life than
ideal
they and their fellows were living, and stimulated a
wholesome moral discontent. Men's hearts were laid
open. Not only their sins, but the sources and motives
of their evil deeds, were made bare. Then his audiences
began to hear a vivid exposition of life. Unlike the
Eabbis, he did not spend his time in mincing texts with
barren ingenuity. Men heard their actions called in
question. They heard their pride, their selfishness, their
exposed that self-condemnation
avarice, their lusts, so
was everywhere mingled with wonder and admiration.
The effects of his teaching were heightened by the
humanity of his miracles, and the tender sympathy
which he manifested for the temporal comfort of men,
as well as for their spiritual well-being. Miracles were
not mere explosions of power, designed to excite tran-
sient wonder. They were instruments of kindness
they unsealed fountains of jo}" long closed ; they tended
to rectify the disorders which afflicted thousands of
unhappy and neglected wretches ; they gave emphasis
to instruction ; they ratified his exhortations ; they
gave solemnit}^ to his simple methods. The miracles
of Christ cannot be taken out of their life-connections
and analyzed by themselves. They were to his teach-
ing what gestures are to an orator, that go with his
thoughts, and taken alone are of no value. They were
the glowing expressions of s^nnpathy. As in the moods
lip, the face, have expressions that
of love, the eye, the
cannot be separated from the emotions which produce
them, so was it with Christ's works of mercy. They
were not philosophical experiments upon natiu'e, nor
premeditated evidences of power. They were the inspi-
 A TIME OF JOY. 303

rations of a tender sympathy with human suffering, the

flashes of the Kght of love, the arms of God stretched
forth for the rescue or consolation of the poor and needy.
While the early preaching of Jesus seems to have
been of the most arousing character, we are not to sup-
pose that instructiveness was sacrificed, nor that the
next period, beginning with the " Sermon on the
Mount," was devoid of pimgency because the instruc-
tive elements predominated. Only to arouse men, and
to leave them no solid substance of thought, is to kindle
a fire of shavings that but flames up and dies in ashes.
The words of Christ, primarily addressed to the peo-
ple of his own age and country, carried in them truths
so deep and universal, that, like an inexhaustible soil,

they have fed the roots of religious life for the world
ever since, and have had a stronger hold upon the intel-

lect and the fancy than that Grecian literature which

for philosophical acuteness, for grace, and for quali-
ties of the imagination would seem far more likely to

control the world of thought than the homely domes-

tic aphorisms and parables of the Saviour. In every
element of external excellence the Greek surpassed
the Hebrew. But the Hebrew carried in his soul two
worlds, the Greek only one. The Greek was busy with
the world he lived in the Hebrew concerned himself
;

with the folks that lived in the world. More than

this, it was the inspiration of the life to come that
gave such enduring force to the teaching of Jesus.
His s^nnpathy with both sides of human experience, its
joy and its sorrow, its genial domestic tr;m(|itillity and
its outreach and enterprise, its sweet contentment and
its passionate aspiration, gave to his feacliings a qual-
ity not to be foiiiid in any school but his. And, above
304 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

all other things, his teachings had himself for a back-

ground. He was the perpetual illustration of his own
words, iho: interpretation of the deeper spiritual enigmas.
And an important sense in which the
yet there is

preaching of Jesus was strangely unworldly. It was

not such discourse as in Greece made orators famous.
So devoid was it of secular elements, that one would
not know from it that Palestine was overrun with for-
eigners, — that the iron hand and iron heel of Rome
wellnigh pressed the life out of the nation, — that the
provinces were glowing with luxuries, cities everywhere
springing up, while the people, ground down by extor-
tion, were becoming wretched and desperate. Jesus
was a Jew, susceptible and sympathetic to a remarka-
ble degree. There was never such a field for patriotic
oratory. But amid insurrections cruelly quelled, amid
the anguish of his people, he let fall no single word of
secular eloquence. Amidst the tumults of war and the
prodigalities of foreign luxury and wasteful dissipation
was heard the calm discourse of heavenly themes. It
was of the soul, of that new and possible soul, that he
spake, —and so spake that all the nation took heed, and
the sordid common people, rushing after him for bread,
paused, listened, and, wondering, declared "he speaks
with authority." Something more critical of his method
of discourse we
submit by and by. Here we only
shall
point out the eminent \uiworldliness of it, and the in-
troduction of a searching personal element imknown
before, but now so much a part of Christianity that we
fail to appreciate its originality in Christ. We mean
the individualizing of discourse to each heart, so that
every man felt that it was addressed to him, concern-
ing himself, — his spiritual self
 ;

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 305

CHAPTEK XIV.
THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. — THE BEATITUDES.

The customs of his country would naturally lead

Jesus to be much abroad, and he seems to have had
a peculiar love for the open fields. His journeys, his
habits of teaching by the way, his frequent resorting
to the sea-sideand to the solitude of the hills, impress
one with the belief that he loved the open air far
more than the house or the street. It is certain that
while at Capernaum he had sought out places of se-
clusion, and had his own fimiliar haunts. These were
not simply for rest to the body, but also for medita-
tion and for communion with his Father. Wherever
he went, Jesus found out these natural sanctuaries
while for the benefit of others he often taught in
synagogues and in the Temple, for his own refresh-
ment he loved better the wilderness, the lake-shore,
the hill-top, the shaded ravine, or the twilight of the
olive-groves.
Sucli a i-csort h(> found on tlie stunmit of Mount
Ilattiu, a hill rising IVoni the |)Iaiii about seven miles
southwesterly tVoiu ('ajxTMauiii. It was more an u})-

laiid liijiii a iiKiiiiiIain. The two horns, or summits,

rise only si.\1\' feet ahoxr tiic laidc-Iands which con-
stilnte the base, and the wln)le elevation is hut about
a thousand feet above the level of the sea. From the
sunnnit toward the east one may look over the Sea of
20
 —

306 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Galilee, and northward, along the broken ranges, to the

snow-clad peaks of Lebanon.^
Returning from a preaching tour, Jesus, and with him
the immense and motley throng that now everywhere
pressed upon him, reached this neighborhood at even-
ing. Not waiting for his voluntary blessings, the mul-
titudes sought to touch his very garments, that they
might receive benefit from that virtue which seemed
to emanate from his person. Gliding from among
them as the shadows fell, he hid himself from their
importunity in some part of the mountain. Here he
spent the night in prayer.
There is no part of the history of Jesus that

* " This mountain, or hill, — for it only rises sixty feet above the plain, —
is that known to pilgrims as the Mount of the Beatitudes, the supposed
scene of the Sermon on the Mount. The tradition cannot lay claim to
any early date it was in all probability suggested first to the Crusaders by
;

its remarkable situation. But that situation so strikingly coincides with the
intimations of the Gospel narrative as almost to force the inference that in
this instance the eyes of those who selected the spot were for once rightly
directed. It is the only height seen in this direction from the shores of the
Lake of Genesareth. The plain on which it stands is easily accessible
from the lake, and from that plain to the summit is but a few minutes' walk.
The platform at the top is evidently suitable for the collection of a multi-
tude, and corresponds precisely to the 'level place' (Luke vi. 17, mis-

translated plain ') to which he would

' '
come down ' as from one of its
higher horns to address the people. Its situation is central both to the
peasants of the Galilean and the fishermen of the Galilean lake, be-
hills

tween which it stands, and would therefore be a natural resort both to

Jesus and his discii)les (Matthew iv. 25 —
v. 1) when they retired for

solitude from the shores of the sea, and also to the crowds who assembled
'
from (Jalilee, from Decapolis, fi-om Jerusalem, from Judaea, and from be-
yond Jordan.' None of the other mountains in the neighborhood could
answer equally well to this description, inasmuch as they are merged into
the uniform barrier of hills round the lake, whereas this stands separate, —
'
the mountain,' —
which alone could lay claim to a distinct name, with tlie
exception of the one height of Tabor, which is too distant to answer the
requirements." Stanley's Sinai and Palestine, pp. 360, 361 (2d ed.
368, 369).
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 307

stirs the imagination more profoundly than these sol-

itary nights, in lonely places, spent in prayer. It

surely was not a service ofmere recitation, nor such

wounded by sin, full of fear
iraplorations as the soul,
and remorse, pours out before God. We must con-
ceive of it as a holy conference with God. He who
came down from heaven again returns to its com-
munion. Weighed down and impaired by evil, the
soul of man sometimes rises above the consciousness
of its bodily condition, and rejoices in an almost ac-
complished liberty. Much more may we suppose that
in these hours of retirement the sinless soul of the
Saviour, loosed from all consciousness of physical fa-

tigue, hunger, or slumberous languor, rejoined its noble

companions, tasted again its fonner liberty, and walked
with God. But we can hardly suppose that in these
exalted hours he forgot those who all day long tasked
his sympathy. Did not he who on the cross prayed
for his enemies, on the mountain pray for his friends ?
Did not he wlio now
ever liveth to make interces-
"

sion " for his followers intercede often, when he was

with them, for tlie tliroug of ignorant, impoverished,
bewildered people that swanned aljout his footsteps ?
Neither Mark nor John mentions the Sermon on the
Mount, which was delivered on the mornino: followintr
this retirement. Luke gives a condensed report of it,
adding, liowevei'. the woes wliicli ('on'csjxjnd (o the
]5eatitudes. Matthew gives by fai- the fulh'st recital
of it. Fitikc says that he stood u|)()n the ])lain (or,
a level place), but Matthew, that he went up out of
the plain to llie uiouulaiu. and there deliNcred the
discoiuse. Wiien, after a night of prayer. .lesus came
down to the lower parts of the hill, he found there the
308 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

great crowds which the day before had attended him.

Nor is it unlikely that he addressed to them words
of instruction. Then, withdrawing higher up the hill,
accompanied by the Apostles and by numbers of his
general disciples, he sat down, as was the manner of
Jewish instructors, and delivered the discourse record-
ed by Matthew. Luke, not having been a witness
of the scene, and manifestly giving but a partial and
general account of it, naturally speaks of the sermon
as delivered on the plain, because the multitude was
there, and because Jesus came down and began his
instructions there. Matthew, who was present as one
of the recently selected Apostles, gives the main dis-
course of the day, and states also, that, on account of
the multitude, Jesus retired farther up the mountain
before delivering it. But though addressed to his
more immediate disciples, it is not to be supposed
that they alone heard the discourse. It was natural
that many of the throng should follow them. This
would be especially the case with those in whose
hearts the word had begun to excite a spiritual hun-
ger, and who, though not ready to call themselves
disciples, lost no opportunity of increasing their
knowledge.
The opinion that Matthew collected froui his Mas-
ter's various teachings at diflerent times the ele-

ments of the Sermon on the Mount, and arranged

them into one discourse, although formerly held by
many, and by one of no less repute than Calvin, has
lost ground, and is now taught by only a few. The
fact that portions of the matter of this sermon ap-
pear in the other Gospels as spoken under diflerent
circumstances may make it jDrobable that Jesus re-
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 300

peated important truths or striking illustrations to

different audiences.^ It is not, therefore, unlikely that
portions of the Sermon on the Mount were thus de-
liv^ered elsewhere and under other circumstances.

That contrast between the Sermon on the Mount

and the giving of the law on Sinai, which from an
early day it has been the delight of commentators to
suggest, has in fact more reason than one is likely
at first to suppose. No contrast could be greater
than the gaunt and barren wilderness of Sinai and
the luxuriant fields of Galilee about the Sea of Ge-
nesareth ; nor could the blighted peaks of Sinai well
have a more absolute contrast than in the fruitful
slopes of Hattin, which in successive ledges declined
toward the lake, at every step beautiful with diver-
sified ve(»:etation and redolent with the odors of fruits

and blossoms. If the more ancient assembly were

taking the first steps from a servile existence to a
national life of independence, so the multitudes that

thronged to hear the Sermon on the Mount were about

to \)Q inducted into a new spiritual life. The law given
froui Sinai was a law of morality, and chiefly concerned
the outward conduct. The Sermon on the Mouut is

likewise a discourse of uiorality, but transceudently

higher than that wliich was written u])on the tal)les of
stone. 'Hie root of luoi'ality is alwa\s the saiiu', l>ut
at dillereut stages of growth it puts forth dilVereut
its

developments. In the early aud rude state of uatious

it concerns itself with outward aflliirs. rigorously guards

the laws hy which alone society can exist, and pre-

' C'niii|t:in' Matfliiw V. IS, aiiil Liiki- xii. ftS ; M,ittli<\v vi. I H L'l. :m«l
Luke xii. .'{:{, Maltlit-w vi. 21, ami Ijiki- xvi. \'^ ; Mattiuw vii. i;t, and Luke
xiii. 24 ;
Matthew vii. 22, and Luke xiii. 25-27.
310 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

serves the life, the person, and the property of the citi-

zen. As civihzation refines men's nature, and brings

into power more of reason and of moral sentiment,
morality, still guarding external things, adds to its

charge the interior qualities of the disposition, and

holds men responsible, not only for actions, but for the
motives of action. It sway over the realm
extends its

of thought, emotion, and the will. Thus it adds prov-

ince to province, until the boundary between morality
and the purest spiritual religion is indistinguishable ;

and men at length see that morality, in the ordinjiry

sense of the term, is religion applied to human con-
duct, while religion is but morality acting in the
sphere of the spiritual sentiments.
Jesus came to brino; a new <»:rowth to the old roots,
to bring into bloom that which had only shown leaves,
and into fruit that which had hitherto only blossomed.
All the superstitions and burdensome ceremonials
which overlaid the simplicity of the original statutes
of Moses were to be rescinded, and the machinery of
the Mosaic Law itself, not the moral element of it, was
to be abrogated. But that great law of universal love
which was to bind men to each other, and all of them
to God, Jesus declared to be at the foundation of the
Jewish The whole
religion. civil and ceremonial sys-

tem of the Hebrews aimed at the production of uni-

versal love.
One would scarcely know from the Sermon on the
Mount whether the Jews had altar or temple, priests or
ritual. The pure wheat is here garnered the straw and ;

chaff, so needful for its growth, but now in its ripe-

ness so useless, and even pernicious, were cleared away.

It is a discourse of the past for the sake of the future.
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 311

To interpret the Sermon on the Mount as the

charter of Christianity, is to misconceive not only this
discourse, but the very nature of Christianity itself,
which is not a system of new truths, but a higher
development of existing forces.
The fulness of time had come. Man was to be lifted
to a higher plane, and made accessible to more power-
ful influences than could be exerted through the old

dispensation. Out of that grand renewal of human

nature there would spring up truths innumerable, the
products of Christianity. But Christianity itself was
not a system of truths, nor the result of a system of
truths, but a name for living- forces. It was a new
dispensation of power, an efflux of the Divine Spirit,
developing the latent spiritual forces in man. It

was the kingdom of God among men. like It was

the diffusion of a new and more fervid climate over
a whole continent. A development and perfection
would follow, never before known, and impossible to
a lower temperature. The one silver thread which
runs through the Gospels and the Epistles, and binds
them into unity, is the indwelling of the Divine Spirit
in the human soul, and the enlarged scope and power
of hunuin lil'e by reason of it.
John saw the radiant kingdom descending when he
cried, " There cometh one mightier than I after me,
.... lie shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost."
And when Jesus came, the same truth was thrown
roiwaid in advance of all others: "The kingdom
of heaven is at liand. Cast out all evil Lay open
!

your souls to tiic Divine coming!" Repentance and

forgiveness wrie not the gospel. The kingdom of
God among men, an exaltation of the race by the
 — ;

312 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Divine union with it, the wisdom of God and the

power of God unto salvation, — this was the good
news.
But the Sermon on the Mount is deficient in pre-
cisely these elements. It has in it no annunciation
of a new dispensation. That flame of fire, the Spirit
of God, is not mentioned. Jesus does not there claim
for himself any vital relation to the human soul
that faith which so largely filled his subsequent
teachings is not alluded to. He does not even claim
the Messiahship. There is no word of his suft'er-

ings and death, nor of his future mediation, nor of

the doctrine of repentance and the new birth. Can
that be an epitome of Christianity which leaves out
the great themes which filled the later teaching of
Jesus ?

The Sermon on the Mount gathers up the sum of all

that had been gained under the Jewish dispensation,

distinguishes between the original and genuine ele-
ments of truth in the Jewish belief, and the modern
and perverse inculcations of the Rabbis, and, above —
all, gives to familiar things a new spiritual force and

authority.
At the threshold of the new life it was wise to ascer-
tain what was real and ^yhat fictitious in the^ belief of
the people. A repudiation of the Law and the prophets
would have bewildered their moral sense but the ;

truth of their fathers, cleansed from glosses, pure

and simple, would l)ecome the instrument for work-
ing that very repentance which would prepare them
for the new life of God in the soul.
Men are fond of speaking of the originality of the
Sermon on the Mount ; but originality would have
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 313

defeated its very aim. must sprout from

All growth
roots pre-existing in the soul. There can be no neiv,
except by the help of some old. To have spread out a
novel field of unfamiliar truth before the people might
have led them to speculation, but could not have
aroused their conscience, nor rebuked the degradation
of their natures and the sordidness of their lives. It

was the very aim of the Sermon on the Mount to place

before the Jews, in the clearest light, the great truths
out of which sprung their Law and their prophets, as a
preparation for the new and higher developments that
would come afterwards. In so doing Jesus put him-
self into the confidence of his own people. To the
sober-minded among his countrymen he never seemed
a subverter of Hebrew customs, or an innovator upon
the national religion. He was recognized everywhere
by the common people, and by all earnest natures not
wrought into tlic Pharisaic party, as a genuine Hebrew
prophet, standing on the very ground of the fathers,
and enunciating old and familiar truths, but giving to
them a scope and a spiritual elevation which, though
new, was neither strange nor unnatural.
The Sermon on the Mount, then, being in the nature
of an historical review, could not be original. It was a
criticism of the received doctrine. Every part of it

brings down to us the odor and flavor of the l)est days

and the ripest things of the Old Testament dispensa-
tion. It was the mount from which men looked over
into the promised land of the spirit. Even the Beati-
tudes, an (•.\<|nisit(' j)r('lu(h', wliich seems like a solemn
hynmsung befoi-c a service, are but a colK'ction and
better ordering of maxims or a])horisms which existed
in the Ohl Testament.
 ;

314 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Already Isaiah had heard God saying, " I dwell in

the high and holy place, with him also that is of a
contrite and humble spirit." And the Psalmist had
said, " A broken and a contrite heart, God, thou wilt
not despise." Already the prophet had promised
" Beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and

the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness "

and the wise man had said, " Sorrow is better than
lauiihter." From the Psalmist were taken almost the
words of benediction to the meek " The meek shall
:

inherit the earth, and shall delight themselves in the

abundance of peace." Where is there a hunger and
thirst of the soul, if it be not recorded in the forty-
second Psalm? This Psalm is broken into two, the
forty-second and forty-third, and three times the re-
frain comes in, " I shall yet praise him who is the help
of my countenance." There are abundant blessings
pronounced upon the merciful, upon the pure in heart,
upon the persecuted for righteousness' sake and even ;

in the old warlike age peace was not uncelebrated.

If there be no distinct blessing for peacemakers, there
are numberless woes denounced against those who stir
up strife and cruel war.
The Beatitudes, then, were not new principles the ;

truth in them had been recognized before. They were

truths hidden in the very nature of the soul, and, in
the best sense, natural. But formerly they lay scatr

tered as pearls not detached from the parent shell, or

as rough diamonds unground. Here they first appear
in brilliant setting. They are no longer happy say-

ings, but sovereign principles. They always spoke

with instructiveness, Ijut now with authority, as if they
wore crowns upon their heads.
<^'g"m^,-,i^^AZJLHETHa CLiypaSRKMJM .0.AX.13L1:TS
y

txpfltssLT ro« H.w.ecLCHCiis'Lirc orjcsus.THC CMHitr

 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 315

There was a noble strangeness in them. The whole

world was acting in a spirit contrary to them. They
conflicted with every sentiment and maxim of common
life. On a lonely hill-top sat one known to have been
reared as a mechanic, pronouncing to a group of peas-
ants, fishermen, mechanics, and foreigners the sublime
truths of the higher and interior life of the soul, which
have since by universal consent been deemed the no-
blest utterances of earth. The traveller may to-day
stand in Antwerp, near the old cathedral, hearing all

the clattei* of business, a thousand feet tramping close

up to the walls and buttresses against which lean
the booths, a thousand ton<»:ues rattliuii" the lano-uag-e
of traffic, when, as the hour strikes from above, a
shower of notes seems to descend from the spire, —
bell notes, fine, sweet, small as a bird's warble, the
whole air full of crisp tinklings, underlaid by the
deeper and sonorous tones of large bells, but all of
them in fit secpiences pouring forth a melody that
seems unearthly, and the more because in such con-
trast with the scenes of vulgar life beneath. In some
such way must these words have fallen upon the mul-
titude.
Whether the audience felt the sweetness and ex-
quisite beauty of Christ's opening sentences we can-
uot know. They are the choicest truths of the old
disj)L'Usation set to the spirit of the new. But not
until, like l)ells, they were thus set in chimes and
rung in the spirit and melody of the s[)iritual age,
could one have dreanicd how uohlc they were. And
what When before did such a conn)any
blessings !

of and misfortunes find themstdvi's mustered iuid

ills

renamed ? No word of commendation for wealth, or

 !

316 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

favor, or high estate, or power, or pleasure. For all

that the world was striving after with incessant indus-
try there was no benediction. Congratulations wei'c
reserved for the evils which all men dreaded, pov- —
erty, sorrow, persecution, and the hatred of men, or —
for qualities which men thought to be the signs of
weakness. Could his disciples understand such para-
doxes? We know that they did not until after the
descent upon them of the Holy Spirit, at a later day.
Still less would the rude multitude comprehend such
mysterious sayings, so profoundly true, but true in
relation to conditions of soul of which they had no
conception. The real man was invisible to their eyes.
Only the outward life was known to them, the life of
the body, and of the mind only as the ready minister
to bodily enjoyments

"Blessed ake the poor in spirit."

Not poverty of thought, nor of courage, nor of

emotion, —not empty-mindedness, nor any idea im-
plying a real lack of strength, variety, and richness of
nature, —
was here intended. It was to be a con-
sciousness of moral incompleteness. As the sense
of poverty in this world's goods inspires men to en-
terprise, so the consciousness of a poverty of man-
liness might be expected to lead to earnest endeav-
ors for moral growth. This first sentence was aimed
full at that supreme self-complacency which so gener-
ally resultedfrom the school of the Pharisee. Paul's
interpretation of his own experience illustrates the
predominant spirit. He once had no higher idea of
character than that inculcated in the Law of Moses,
and he wrote of his attainments '' Touching the right-
:
 !

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 317

eousness which is in the law, blameless." (Phil. iii. 6.)

He was a perfect man
The land was full of " perfect men." Groups of
them were to be found in every synagogue. To be
sure they were worldly, selfish, ambitious, vindictive,
but without the consciousness of being the worse
for all that. Rigorous exactitude in a visible routine
gave them the right to thank God that they were not
as other men were. For such men, in sucli moods,
there could be no spiritual kingdom. They could
never sympathize with that new life which was com-
ing upon the world, in which the treasures were
"love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness,
faith, meekness, temperance." (Gal. v. 22, 23.) But
those who painfully felt the poverty of their inward
nature in all these excellences might rise to the bless-
ings of the new kingdom, " in which dwelleth right-
eousness."
In a world so full modes of
of trouble a thousand
consolation have been sought, a thousand ways of joy.
But Jesus, still looking upon the invisible manhood,

next points out the Divine road to happiness.

"Blessed are they that mouiin."

For ])crfect beings sorrow is not needed ; l)ut to
creatures like men, seeking to escape the thrall and
bui(hMi of iiiiiiiiMl life, sorrow is helpful. As frosts
nidock tlu' liiird and help the germ to
shells of seeds
get free, so Irouhle develops in men the germs of
force. |»;ilieuee. ;iii(l ingenuity, ;ind in nohle n;itin'es

"works the peju'eahie fruits of riy-hteousness." A iren-

tie se.hoolmaster it is to those who are " exercised
thereby." Tears, like raindrops, have a thousand
318 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

times fallen to the ground and come up in flowers.

All the good in this world which has risen above the
line of material comfort has been born from some
one's sorrow. We
march under a Captain " who
all

was made perfect through sufferings " and we are ;

to find peace only as we learn of him in the school

of patience.
Not less astonishing than the value put upon pov-
erty of spirit and mourning must have seemed the
next promise and prediction: —
"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit
THE earth."
Each part of a man's mind has its peculiar and dis-
tinctive excitement. The passions and appetites give
forth a turbulent and exhausting experience. The full
activity of the domestic and social emotions produces
excitement less harsh and violent, but yet tumultuous.
The highest conditions of the soul's activity are serene
and tranquil. It is to this superior calm of a soul that is
living in the continuous activity of its highest spiritual
sentiments that the term meekness should be applied.
It designates the whole temper of the soul in the range
of moral and spiritual faculties. The appetites and
its

passions produce a boisterous agitation too coarse and

rude for real pleasure. The affections develop pleas-
ure, but with too near an alliance to our lower na-
ture for tranquillity. The spiritual portion of the soul

is at once luuiinous and peaceful. The strength of

man lies in those faculties which are farthest removed
from his animal conditions. It is in the spiritual

nature that manhood resides. The action of these

higher sentiments is so different in result from the
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 319

violent agitations of the appetites and passions, that

man may well speak of himself as a duality, a union
of two distinct persons, not only of different, but of
opposite and contradictory experiences. At the bot-
tom of man's natiu^e lie rude strength, coarse excite-
ments, violent fluctuations, exhausting impulses. At
the top of man's nature the soul puts forth continuous
life almost without fjitigue, is tranquil under intense
activities, and is full of the light of moral intuitions.
Meekness is generally thought to be a sweet benig-
nity under provocation. But provocation only dis-

closes, and does not create it. It exists as a generic

mood or condition of soul, independent of those causes
which may bring it to light. In this state, power and
peace are harmonized, —and tranquillity, joy
activity
and calmness, all-seeingness without violence of desire.
From these nobler fountains chiefly are to flow those
influences which shall control the world.
Man the animal has hitherto possessed the globe.
Man the divine is yet to take it. The struggle is
going on. But in every cycle more and more does
the world feel the superior authority of truth, purity,
justice, kindness, lOve, and faith. They shall yet pos-
sess the earth. In these three opening sentences how
deep are iha insights given The soul beholds its
!

meagreness .nid |)()verty, it longs with unutterable de-

sire to be eiuiclied, it Ix'liolds the ideal state luminous

willi peace and full ol" power.

But now the discourse I'ises IVoui tbese iulei'lor

states tomore iictive eleuu'uts. Amidst tlie coullict-
ing elements of life no man can gain any important
moral victories by mere longing, or by rare impulses,
or by feeble purposes. If one would reach the true
320 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

manhood, the spiritual Hfe, of the new kingdom, it

must be by continuous energy during his entire career.
In the whole routine of daily life, in the treatment of
all cares, temptations, strifes, and experiences of every

kind, the one predominant purpose must be the per-

fection of manhood in ourselves.

"Blessed are they who do hunger and thirst

AFTER righteousness, FOR THEY SHALL BE FILLED."

The life of the body, and skill, are

its strength
every day built up by the food which hunger craves.
And as hunger is not a rational faculty, and does not
depend upon any of the rational faculties for its action,
but follows the internal condition of the body, and is

an automatic sign and signal of the waste or repair

going on within so the longing for uprightness and
;

goodness must be a deep-seated and incessant impor-

tunity of the soul's very substance, as it were, acting,
not upon suggestion or special excitement, but self-

aroused and continuous. To such a desire the whole

world becomes a ministering servant. All this is
strangely in contrast with the life of man. The fierce
conflict, the exacting enterpinse, are felt, but they ex-
pend themselves upon externals. They seek to build
up the estate, to augment the power, to nuiltiply
physical pleasures. In the new life the strife and
enterprise are to be none the less, but will be directed
toward inward qualities.

These four Beatitudes not only revealed the Divine

conception of the new spiritual life, but they stood in
striking contrast with the ideas held by the leaders of
the Jews. The Pharisees were also expecting a king-
dom, and great advantage and delight. They had no
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 321

idea of the joy there is in spiritual sorrow. They

knew nothing of the sweet tranquillity of meekness,
and to them nothing seemed so little likely to inherit
the earth. Energetic power, invincible zeal, and a
courage that did not fear disaster or death, — these
would win, if anything could. The Beatitudes, thus
far, must have been profoundly unintelligible to
Christ's hearers. What wonder ? They are even yet
unintelligible to mankind.

"Blessed aee the merciful, for they shall

obtain mekcy."

To an undeveloped race, struggling ignorantly for-

ward rather than upward, jostling, contending, quar-
— each man
relling, selfish, but demanding that others
should be — each
kind, one unjust, but clamoring
against others for their injustice, — each one exact-
ing, severe, or cruel, but requiring that others should
be lenient, — comes the word. Blessed are the merciful.
No one thing does human life more need than a kind
consideration of men's faults. Every one sins. Every
one needs forbearance. Their own imperfections should
teach men to be merciful. God is merciful because he
is perfect.Mercy is an attribute of high moral char-
acter. As men grow toward the Divine, they become
gentle, forgiving, compassionate. The absence of a
merciful spirit is evidence of the want of true holiness.
A soul that has really entered into the life of Clirist
carries in itself a store of nourislnnent and a cordial
lor li('l[)less souls around it. Wiiocver uiakcs his own
rigorous life, or his formal ])roj)riety. or his exacting
consciciuH', an argunuMit ior a coudciuuatory spirit
toward oilicrs, is not of the household of liiith. Mer-
21
322 THE LIFE OF JESUS, TUE CHRIST.

ciless observers of men's faults, who delight in find-

ing out the evil that is in their neighbors, who rejoice
in exposing the sins of evil-doers, or who find a
pleasure in commenting upon, or ridiculing the mis-
takes of others, show themselves to be ignorant of
the first element of the Christian religion.

" Blessed aee the pure in heart, for they shall

SEE God."

Precisely what meant by " purity " has called

is

forth much speculation. But it should be remem-

bered that the whole discourse contains either a latent
or an avowed criticism upon the prevailing notions
of the Jews as to true religion. On no 23oint were
the Pharisees more scrupulous than that of Levitical
purity. This had no direct relation in their minds
to the inward and purposes.
dispositions Impurity
was contracted by some bodily act, and was removed
by some corresponding external ceremony. There
were some seventy specific cases of uncleanness de-
scribed by Jewish writers, and others were possible.
A conscientious man found his action limited on every
hand by fear of impurity, or by the rites of purifica-
tion which were required in case of defilement. A
ceremony designed to inspire a moral idea by a physi-
cal act suffered the almost inevitable fate of symbols,
and ended by withdrawing the mind from moral states
and fixing it superstitiously upon external deeds. The
benediction of Jesus was uf)on purity of heart, as dis-
tinguished from legal and ceremonial f)urity. A state
of heart in which all its parts and faculties should
be morally as free from the contamination of passion,
selfishness, injustice, and insincerity as the body and
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 323

its members might be from Levitical defilement, was,

without doubt, the state upon which the blessing was
meant But the promise here given, " they shall
to rest.
see God," assumes a wider view and a more profound
philosophy. There can be no knowledge of God in
any degree moral and spiritual, which does not come
to man through some form of moral intuition. To
understand justice, one must have some experience of
justice. There could arise no idea of love in a soul
that had never loved, or of pity in one who had
never experienced compassion. Our knowledge of
the moral attributes of God must take its rise in
some likeness, or germ of resemblance, in us to that
which we conceive is the Divine nature. In propor-
tion as we become like him, the elements of under-
standing increase. The soul becomes an interpreter
through own experiences. They only can under-
its

stand God who have in themselves some moral resem-

blance to him and they will enter most largely into
;

knowledge who are most in sympathy with the Divine

life.

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall

BE called the children of God."

Peace is not a negative state, a mere interval 1)e-

tween two excitements. In its highest meaning it is
that serenity which joy assumes, not only when single
faculties are excited, ])ut when the whole soul is in
harmony witli itself and full of wholesome activity.
An original disposition wliicli dwells in peace bv the
fulness iind the inspiration of ;dl its parts is a rare
gift. One whose nature unconsciously dilfuses j)eace
is very near to (Jod. Jesus himself never seemed
324 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

SO divine as when, on the eve of his arrest, with the

cloud already casting its shadow upon him, and every
hour bringing him consciously nearer to the great
agony, he said to his humble followers " Peace I leave :

with you. My peace I give unto you." There is no

other sign of Divinity more eminent than that of a
nature which can breathe upon men an atmosphere of
peace. They who can do this, even imperfectly, have
the lineaments of their Parent upon them. They are
the children of God.
Far out from the centre of creative power, among
the elements of nature, thereis wild turbulence, and

immense energies grapple in conflict. As the uni-

verse rises, circle above circle, each successive sphere
loses something of and develops some tendency
strife

to harmony. All perfection tends toward peace. In

that innermost circle, where the God dwells in very
person, peace eternally reigns. The energy which
'

creates, the universal will which governs, and the in-

conceivable intellect that watches and thinks of all
the realm, have their highest expression in a perfect
peace. Thus, though the lower stages of being are
full of agitations, the higher stages are tranquil. The
universe grows sweet as it grows ripe. "The God of
peace " is the highest expression of perfect being.
Whatever disturbance is raging in his remote creation.
He dwells in eternal peace, waiting for the consum-
mation of all things. There is, then, evident reason
why peacemakers " shall be called the children of
God."
In a lower way, but yet in close sympathy with this
supreme disposition of a soul in harmony with God,
are to be included all voluntary efforts I'or the sup-
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 325

pression of riotous mischief and for the promotion of

kindness, agreement, concord, and peace among men
and between nations. While maHgn dispositions stir
up strife, a benevolent nature seeks to allay irritation,
to quiet the fierceness of temper, and to subdue all
harsh and cruel souls to the law of kindness. A pacifi-
cator will make himself the benefactor of any neigh-
borhood.
It is true that peace is sometimes so hindered by
means of corrupt or selfish interests that
passions
there must be a struggle before peace can exist. "I
came not to send peace, but a sword,"was our Lord's
annunciation of this fact. A conflict between the spirit
and the flesh takes place in every individual and in
every community that is growing better. It is, how-
ever, but transient and auxiliary. Out of it comes a
higher With that come harmony and peace. One
life.

may sacrifice peace by neglecting to struggle, and one

may seek peace by instituting conflicts. Love must
overcome selfishness, even if the demon in departing
casts down its victim upon the ground and leaves him
as one dead.

"Blessed aee tiiey which are persecuted for

righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom
of heaven."

All the elements of human society were originally

organized hy the force of reason acting in its lowest
])hine, — selfishly. Little b\- little the animal gave way
to the social, the material to the spiritual, and room
began to be Coimd in the secular lor llie eternal. it

has jjeeu a long conlliet. ll is a conflict still, and will

continue to be for ages. A jnst man at every step
326 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

finds some one whose interests turn upon injustice.

One cannot make the truth clear and stimulating with-

out disturbing some drowsy error, which flies out of its

cave and would extinguish the light. Not only have

pride and vanity their unlawful sway, but every pas-
sion has in human life some vested interest which
truth and love will either altogether destroy, or greatr
and regulate.
ly restrain
Now, although the truth when presented in its own
symmetry is beautiful, and although men, unless greatly
perverted, recognize the beauty of righteousness, yet
their selfish interests in the processes of life, the profit
or pleasure which they derive from unrighteousness,
sweep away their feeble admiration, and in its place
come anger and opposition. All potential goodness is
a disturbing force. Benevolent men are the friends
of even the selfish, but selfish men feel that benevo-
lence is the enemy The silent example
of selfishness.
of a good man judges and condemns the conduct of
bad men. Even passive goodness stands in the way
of active selfishness. But when, as was to be the case
in the new spiritual kingdom heralded by Christ, good
men acting in sympathy should seek to sj^read the
sway of moral principles, the time would speedily
arrive when their spirit would come in conflict with
the whole kingdom of darkness. Then would arise the
bitterest opposition. Since the world began, it has not
been permitted to any one to rise within himself from
a lower to a higher moral state, without an angry con-
flict on the part of his inferior faculties. No part of
human society has been allowed to develop into a
higher form without bitter persecutions. If this had
been so up to that era, when the stages were tentative
 !

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 327

and preparatory, how much more was it to be so now,

when the fuhiess of time had come, and the followers
of Christ were to found a kingdom in which the moral
and spiritual elements were to predominate over every
other
But persecution which is caused by true goodness
drives men more entirely from the resources of the
animal and secular life, and develops in them to
greater strength and intensity their truly spiritual or
divine part and in that state their joys increase in
;

elevation, in conscious purity, in peacefulness. They

live in another realm. They are not dependent for
their enjoyment upon outward circumstances, nor upon
the remunerations of social life. They are lifted into
the very vicinage of heaven. They hold communion
with God. A new realm, invisible but potential,
springs up around them. Dispossessed of common
pleasures, they find themselves filled with other joys,
uns2)eakal)le and full of glory. " Theirs is the king-
dom of heaven."
Here the Beatitudes end. They raise in the mind
an exalted conception of the spiritual manhood. In
the new kingdom manhood was to be clothed with
new power. It had broken up through to the realm
above, and was clothed with Divine elements. In this
state, the grand instrument of success in the subjuga-
tion of the world was to be the simple force of tliis

new human nature, acting directly upon living men.

Until tliat time rehgion had, in the weakness of llie

race, needed to empk)y and institutions, and

rules, laws,
to maintain its authority by force borrowed from the
physical nature of man. But the new kingdom was
to rely sovereignly upon a new force, —
tlie living soul
 "

328 TTIE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

acting upon living souls. Therefore Jesus, having

revealed by these few profound elements what was
the true spiritual strength of man, declares to his dis-
ciples their mission. They were to be the preservative
element of life. They were to become sons of God,
not alone for their own sake, but as spiritual forces in
subduing the world to goodness. While Pharisees
were intensely concerned to maintain their own sup-
posed blameless state, and Essenes were withdi-awing
from human life more and more, and various religion-
ists were playing hermit, shunning a world which
they could not resist or overcome, the disciples of
the new kingdom of the spirit, inspired by a Divine
and
influence, living in an atmosphere uncontaminated
by the lower passions, were to go boldly forth into
Hfe, taking hold of human affairs, seeking to purif}^ the

household, to reclaim the selfishness and the sordidness

of material life, to infuse a spirit of justice and of
goodness into laws and magistrates, and to make the
power of their new life felt in every fibre of human
society. " Ye are the salt of the earth !
" " Ye are
!
the light of the world

The opening portion of the Sermon on the Mount

must not have the canons of modern philosophy ap-
plied to it. Its organic relations with the rest of the
discourse must not be pressed too far. It depicts the

moral qualities which are to give character to the new

life, but does not include all the elements of it, nor

even the most important ones. Hoj^e, faith, and

love are not mentioned. It is plain, therefore, that
the principle of selection was largely an external one.
Jesus was about to criticise the national religion. He
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 329

fixed his eye upon the living officers and exemplars

of that religion, and emphasized with his benediction
those qualities which most needed to be made promi-
nent, and which were signally lacking in the spirit of
the Pharisee.
Just as little should we attempt to exhibit in the
Beatitudes a natural progression, or philosophic order
of qualities. There is no reason why the second Be-
atitude should not stand first, nor why the fifth, sixth,

and seventh might not be interchanged. The fourth

might without impropriety have begun the series.
The order in which they stand does not represent
the order of the actual evolution of moral qualities.
On the contrary, we perceive that the spirit of God
develops the new life in the human soul in no fixed
order. Men who have gone far in overt wickedness
may find their first moral impulse to spring from a
condemning conscience but others are more affected
;

by the sweetness and beauty of moral qualities as seen

in some goodly life. Sometimes hope, sometimes
sympathy, sometimes fear, and sometimes even the
imitativeness that becomes contagious in social life,
is the initiatory motive. For the human soul is like
a city of many gates and a conqueror does not
;

always enter by the same gate, but by that one which

chances to lie open. It is true that a geiRMnl sense
of si 11 fulness precedes all effort after a liiglier life.

But a clear discriniination of evil, and an ex(|iiisite

sensibility to it, such as are implied in the first two

Beatitudes, do not belong to an untrained conscience
first aroused lo duty, l)iit are the tVuils of later stages
of Christian experience.
The Beatitudi's constitute a beautil'ul sketch of the
330 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

ideal state, when the glowing passions, which in the

day of Christ controlled even the religious leaders,
and still so largely rule the world, shall be supplanted
by the highest moral sentiments. The ostentatious
wealth and arrogant pride of this sensuous life shall
be replaced in the new life by a profound humility.
The conceit and base content of a sordid prosperity
shall give way to ingenuous spiritual aspiration. Men
shall long for goodness more than the hungry do for
food. They shall no longer live by the force of their
animal life, but by the serene sweetness of the moral
sentiments. Meekness shall be stronger than force.
The peacemaking shall take the place of irri-
spirit of

tation and quarrelsomeness. But as we can come to

the mildness and serenity of spring only through the
blustering winds and boisterous days of March, so this
new kingdom must enter through a period of resist-
ance and of persecution and all who, taking part in
;

its early establishment, have to accept persecution,

must learn to find joy in it as the witness that they

are exalted to a superior realm of experience, to the
companionship of the noblest heroes of the prophetic
age, and to fellowship with God.
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 331

CHAPTER XV.

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. — (Continued.)

After pronouncing the Beatitudes, and before en-

tering upon his criticism of the current reUgious ideas,
Jesus put his disciples on their guard lest they should
suppose that he meant to overturn the religion of their
fathers. Think not that I am come to destroy the Law or
the Projjhets. If men's moral were the result
beliefs
of a purely logical process, their religious faith might
be changed upon mere argument, and with as little
detriment to their moral constitution as an astronomer
experiences when, upon the recalculation of a prob-
lem, he corrects an error. But men's moral convic-
tions spring largely from their feelings. The intellect
Imt gives expression to the heart. The creed and
worship, however they may begin in philosophy, are
soon covered all over with the associations of the
hoLiseliold they are perfumed with domestic love
;
;

they convey with them the hopes and the fears of life,
the childhood fancies, and the imaginations of nian-
liood. To change a man's religious system is to recon-
struct the whole man himself Sucli change is full of
peril. Only the strongest moral natures can survive
the shock of doubt which dispossesses tlu'ui of all that
they have trusted from cliildliood. 'Hutc arc lew
strong moral natures. The mass of men are creatures
of dependent habits and of uiucasoning faith. Once
332 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CnUTST.

cut loose from what they have always deemed sacred,

they find it impossible to renew their reverence for
new things, and sink either into moral indifference or
into careless scepticism. Men must, if possible, see
in the new a preservation of all that was valuable in
the old, made still more fruitful and beautiful. It is
the old in the new that preserves it from doing harm
to untaught natures.
The nowhere more re-
reco2:nition of this truth is

markable than in the progress of Christianity under the

ministration of Jesus and of his Apostles. Although
surrounded by a people whose hatred of foreign re-
ligions was inordinate and fanatical, the Jews did not
hear from the lips of Jesus even an allusion to hea-
thenism. If the narratives of the Gospel are fair speci-
mens manner, there was not a word that fell
of his
from him which could have wounded an honest hea-
then ;^ and, afterwards, his Apostles sought to find some
ground of common moral consciousness from which to
reason with the idolatrous people among whom they
came. We are not to suppose that Jesus made an ab-
rupt transition from the religious institutions of Moses
to his own spiritual system. He said no word to

unsettle the minds of his countrymen in the faith of

their fathers. He was careful of the religious preju-
dices of his times. The very blows directed against
the glosses and perversions of the Pharisees derived
their force from the love which Jesus showed for the
Law and the Prophets. He pierced through the outr
ward forms to the central principle of Mosaism, and
made his new dispensation to be an evolution of the old.

' The word " heathen," Matt. vi. 7, and xviii. 1 7, is used rather as a
designation than as a criticism.
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 333

Think not that I am come to destroy the Latv or the

Prophets : I am not come to destroy, but to fidfil.

Here is the law of development announced by an
inspired Hebrew to a peasant and mechanic crowd in
obscure Galilee, ages before the philosophy of evolu-
tion was suspected or the laws of progress were found
out. Jesus did not come to destroy old faiths, but to
carry them forward by growth to the higher forms
and the better fruit that were contained within them.
This tenderness for all the good that there was in
the past of the Jewish nation is in striking contrast
with the bitter spirit of hatred against the Jews which
afterwards grew up in the Christian Church. No man
can be in sympathy with Jesus who has no affection
for the Jew and no reverence for the oracles of the
old Hebrew dispensation.
It was peculiarly appropriate, at the beginning of
a discourse designed to search the received interpre-
tations of the Law with the most severe criticism, that
Jesus should caution his disciples against a tendency,
often developed in times of transition, to give up and
abandon all the convictions and traditions of the past.
Jesus therefore amplified the thought. The central
truths of Hebraism were fundamental and organic.
The ceremonies and institutions which surrounded
them might change, but the enshrined principles were
permanent. Heaven and earth should ])ass away be-
fore one jot or tittle of them should perish. No man
must seek notoriety by a crusade against liis fntlu'r's
religion. He who sliould break one of the least com-
mandments, or should iiis|)ir(' others to do so, should
be least in the kingdom of licMven. The temper of
the new life was not to be destructive, but construe-
334 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

tive. Even that part of the old religion which was

to pass away must not be destroyed by attack, but
be left to dry up and fall by the natural develop-
ment of the higher elements of spiritual life contained
within it. And that should not be till the old was
" fulfilled " in the new the blossom should be dis-
:

placed only by the fruit.

Jesus was now prepared to passunder review the

ethical mistakes which his countrymen had made in
interpreting the Law of Moses. He began by declar-
ing that the reigning religious spirit was totally insuf-
ficient. No one under its inspiration could rise into
that higher life which was opening upon the world.
Except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness

of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the

kingdom of heaven.
This may be called the theme of the whole sermon
following. From this text Jesus now developed his
view of the ethics of the netv life. He furnished the
ideals towards which men must strive, setting forth

the morality of the teleologic state of mankind. For

this purpose he selected a series of cases in which
the great laws of purity and of love were the most
violated in the practical life of his times, and ap-
plied to them the ethics of the final and perfect
state of manhood. This he did, not as a legislator,
nor as a He was not attempting to regulate
priest.

civil society, nor the church, by minute regulations,

but by inspiring the soul with those nobler emotions
from which just rules spring, and which themselves
need no laws. He spoke from conscious divinity in
himself to the moral consciousness in man. He was
not framing principles into human laws or institutions.
 :

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 335

He held up ideals of disposition for the attainment

of which all men were to strive. They are not the
less true because men in the lower stages of devel-
opment are unable to attain to their level. They are
the true basis of all social and civil procedure, even
though nations are not yet civilized enough to prac-
tise them.
There are nine topics successively treated, all of
them relating to the state of man's heart, namely
1. Murder 2. Adultery
; 3. Divorce 4. Oaths 5. Re-
; ; ;

taliation ; 6. Disinterested Benevolence ; 7. Almsgiv-

ing ; 8. Prayer ; 9. Fasting. Following the enuncia-
tion of principles in regard to these topics are a series
of cases relating to the outward life, or economico-
ethical instructions. The spiritual ethics which Jesus
laid down with the quiet authority of conscious divin-
ity not only antagonized with the private passions of
men and the customs of society, but directly contested
the popular interpretation of the Law of Moses.
1. Murder. — Christ teaches that the true life is that
of the thoughts and emotions ; that the highest au-
thority and government is that which is within the
soul, and not alone that which breaks out into ac-
tive civil law and takes cognizance of acts. Spiritual
law takes hold of the sources of all acts. Now the
Pharisee sought to restrain evil by a microscopic con-
sideration of externals. Jesus went back to the foiiu-
taiu. and would ])iirily all the issues by cleansing it.

Ye have heard thid U im-s said hij them of old flute, Thou
slialt not kill ; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of

the jadrpnenf : hut I su// u)il<i //o/^ That irhosoever is ancfr//

ivith Ids Itrollwr tntlwut a c((use shall he in daiu/er <f the

judifinent : and whasnercr ^hall ^iif/ to his t>n>th<r, Ilaca. stiad
336 TIIK LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

be in danger of the council : but ivhosoever shall say, Thou

fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.
What is murder ? The law of the land answered in
its way. Jesus replied, The voluntary indulgence of
any would naturally lead to the act,
feeling that that —
is murder. The crime is first committed in the shad-
owy realm of thought and feeling. Many a murder
is unperformed outwardly, Avhile all that constitutes

its guilt is enacted in the heart. A legalist would

regard himself as innocent if only he did not act as
he felt. But in the kingdom of the Spirit feelings
are acts. A murderous temper is murder. John says,
" Whosoever hateth his brother is a murderer."

This does not forbid all anger. There may be a

just indignation which carries in it no malice, which
springs from affronted benevolence. This is implied in
the phrase, " Whoso is angry with his brother wUhout
a cause" i. e. a just cause, a cause springing from high
moral considerations, as where indignation is aroused
at the sight of one who is committing a great cruelty.
Not alone anger wdiich leads to violence, but even
that degree of anger which leads one to abuse another
by the use of opprobrious epithets, is forbidden. Yet
more severely condemned is such a transport of anger
03 leads one, under the influence of merciless pas-
ions, as it were, to tread out all sense of another's
manhood and to annihilate him.
Not only are we to carry kind thoughts ourselves,
])ut we are bound, hy every means within our power,

to prevent unkind thoughts in others. If we know

that another " hath aught against us," the removal of
that unkind feeling is more important before God than
any act of worship. Leave the altar, remove the un-
 ;

ootr
THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 337

kindness, then return to thy prayers. First humanity,

then devotion.
2. Adultery. — The same general principle is applied
to the passion of lust.
But I mij unto you., That whosoever looJceth on a woman
to lust after her hath committed adultery tvith her already in
his heart.

Not only he guilty who

is suffers desire to run its

full length and consummate itself in action, but he

also who nourishes the desire which he cannot or dare
not consummate. And though the temptation require
the uttermost strength of resistance, must be van- it

quished. As a soldier fights though wounded, and is

triumphantly received though his victory has lost him
an arm or an eye, so at every sacrifice and with all
perseverance must the true man maintain chastity in
his feelings, in his thoughts, and in his imagination.

If thy riyht eye offend thee, pluck it out. If thy right hand
offend thee, cut it off'.

3. Divorce. — In the kingdom of the Spirit the new

man shall no longer be sufiered to consult his own
mere pleasure in the disposal of his wife. In the
Orient and among the Jews polygamy was permitted
the husband might take as many wives as he could
support, and hewas at liberty to dismiss any one of
them upon the most trivial cause. Woman was help-
less, a slave of man's convenience, without redress
when wroni^od. She could demand a leii-al document
of her husband ifhe put her away, aud that })robably
\vas c(|iiival('ut to a general certificate of respectable
character, such as employers give to ser\anls when
for any reason they wish no longer to retain them.
Under Oriental laws, to this day, women are little
338 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

better than slaves. The husband has despotic power

over them. Among the Hebrews, the condition of
woman was and her privileges were greater,
far better,
than in other Eastern nations yet the husband could
;

dispossess her of her marriage rights almost at his own

will. He had There was
uncontrolled jurisdiction.
no necessity for obtaining permission from a civil or
religious tribunal to put away his wife. It was a
household affair, with which the public had nothing to
do. Her stay in the house was purely a matter of her
lord's will. He could send her forth for the most
trivial fault, or from the merest caprice. The doctrine
of Jesus sheared off at one stroke all these unnatural
privileges from the husband, and made the wife's
position firm and permanent, unless she forfeited it
by crime. By limiting the grounds of separation
to the single crime of adultery, Jesus revolutionized
the Oriental household, and lifted woman far up on
the scale of natural rights. Considered in its histor-

ical relations, this action of our Lord was primarily a

restriction upon the stronger and directly in the in-
terest of the weaker party.
This theme and our Lord's teaching upon it will be
resumed where we come to treat of a later period in
his ministry, when he more fully disclosed his doctrine
upon the subject. But it is clear that our Lord be-
longed to neither of the two schools which existed
among the Jews, — the lax school of Hillel, or the
rigid school of Shammai. He rose higher than either.
He made the outward relation permanent, on account
of the true spiritual nature of marriage, it being the
fusion or real unity of tAvo Having once
hearts.
been outwardly united, they must abide together, and
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 339

even when they found themselves in conflict must

learn to be one in spirit by the discipline of living
together. If they enter the wedded state unprepared,
the household is the school in which they are to learn
the neglected lesson.
4. Oaths. — If men loved the truth always, there
would be no need of an oath ; but so prone are
they to deceit, that in cases of public interest they
must be incited to speak truly by a lively fear acting
upon an aroused conscience. By an oath men swear
to God, and not to man, of the truth of facts. A day
shall come when men will speak the truth in the love

of truth. Then all judicial oaths will be needless.

The perfect state will have no need of them, and they
will be done away.
The casuists among the Jews had corrupted the
oath. Men were not bound by
was an oath it, unless it

directly to God. They might win confidence by giving

to their solemn afhrmations the appearance of an
oath. They might swear by heaven, by the earth, by
Jerusalem, by one's head but it was hekl that from
;

these oaths they might draw back without dishonor.

Jesus exposed the deception and impiety of such oaths.
He laid down for all time the canon, that the true
man shall declare facts with the utmost simplicity. It
uiiist be yea, yea, or nay, nay; nothing more. Tlrls
certainly forbids the use of all trivial oaths, and re-
duces judicial oaths to the position of expedients,
tolerated oidy on Mccount of the weakness ot men, and
to be abolished in llie era of true manhood. Oaths
will Ite dispensed with just as soon as men can be
l)elieved witliout an oath.
5. UdnUnliim. — .lesus [)assed next to a consideration
 ;

340 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

of the law of retaliation.The lower (lo\yn upon the

moral scale men live, the more nearly must they be
governed wholly by fear and force. Under the laws
of nature, disobedience brings jiain. Men learn the
same government, and inflict pain upon those who
offend. Civil government methodizes this economy of
pain. It is, however, the method peculiar to unde-

veloped manhood. Force is the lowest, pain is the

next, and fear the next but all of them are methods
;

of deahng with creatures not yet brought up to their

true selves. They are therefore expedients of educa-
tion, and, like all instruments of training, they cease
as soon as they have carried their subjects to a higher
plane. In the coming kingdom of love, the full man
in Christ Jesus will no longer re23ay evil with evil,
pain with pain. Evil-doing will be corrected by the
spirit of goodness, and love will take the place of force
and pain and fear.

Even if it be yet impossible to develop among men

this future and ideal government, it can be held up as
the aim toward which progress should be directed.
This Jesus did. I sa/j unto yon, That ye resist not evil

hut tvhosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him

the other also.Nay, more he who acts in the full

;

spirit of love, so farfrom revenging an injustice, will

yield more than is demanded. It was a time of in-

justice and of tyrannical exactions but the command ;

of Jesus was. If the law, wickedly administered, should

take your property, rather than quarrel give more
than is asked ; if impressed in your property and per-
son into the public service, exceed the task laid upon
you; if solicited, lend and give freely. As society is

constituted, and in the low and animal condition of

 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 341

mankind, it may be that these commands could not

be fulfilled literally ;but they furnish an ideal toward
which every one must strive.

6. Dmnterested Benevolence. — Having developed the

genius of the new kingdom of love negatively, it was
natural that Jesus should next disclose the positive
forms of love and its duties. He laid down the funda-
mental principle that love must spring forth, not from
the admira1)leness of any object of regard, but from
the richness of one's own nature in true benevolence.
Like the sun, love sends forth from itself that color

which makes beautiful wliatever there- it shines upon ;

fore love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do

good to them that hate you, and pray for them that
despitefully use you. The new men of the future
must not derive their notions of perfection from be-
neath them, — that direction the animal, — but
in lies

from above. Seek that kind of perfection which

for
God desires, — the perfection of a disinterested love.
The sun and They pour
the seasons interpret that.
life and bounty over the whole whether deserv- race,
ing or not. In spite of the pains and penalties of
which nature is full, over all the earth are the sym-
bols that God's <j;reater ""overnment is one of ""ood-
ness. He must be a bad man who does not love that
wliicli is lovely. Even selfishness can honor and serve
tliat which will redound to its benefit. The worst
men in society will ])U'ase those who will ivturn like
service.
This, too. like the teaching upon the other topics, is

to be accepted as the ideal of the new kingdom. It

can be but imjx'irectly carried out as yet. Hut it

is that spirit which every man is to recognize as

342 iiJi-- ff-^i- OF ./A'^xvs TiiK rmusT.

the stondard, aiul to carry out "as nuicli as in liim

lies."

7. AIni^(firi)i(]. — Josiis now cautions his discijdcs

against doiui;- ri«;lit things from wroni»" motives. Thov
must give ahns, not for the sake of reputation, not for
their own interests, but out of a simple benevok'nce.
The love of })raise may go with benevolence, but must
not take the place of it. It is hy]>ocrisy to act from
sellish motives, while obtaining creilit for disinterested

ones. This passing olf of our baser feeliirgs for our

noblest is a species of moral counterfeiting as preva-
lent now as in the times of our Lord.
8. Prat/cr. — j\len should ])i'ay from a sincere feeling

of devotion, and not from vanity or nu^re custom.And,

as both Jewish and heathen prayers had become filled
with superstitious and cumbersome repetitions. Jesus
enjoins simplicity and privacy, rather as the cure of
ostentation than as absolute excellences. God does
not need instruction in our wants. He knows better
than we what we need. Neither does he need i)er-

suasion. lie is more ready to give good gifts than

parents are to bestow good things on their children.
It is sermon of Christ on the
probable that the
mount was delivered in the most tamiliar and inter-
locutory manner. It seems to have been icported in

outline, rather than in full, and between one portion

and another there would doubtless be questions asked
and answered. In this way we can interpret the succes-
sion of topics which have no internal i*elation to each
other, but which might be drawn out of the s])eaker
by some inter})ose(l question or explanation. Luke
gives ns a cIcav to one such scene.
" And it came to pass, that, as he was praying in a
 I in: SEiiMON ON 'J III: Moijsr. 34,^}

certain place, \v'h(;M he cea.sed, one of his dinciplen w,\'\(\

unto [jirri, Lord, t.enf;h uh to pray, jih John alwo taught

hJH di.scipleH." (xi. \.)

Many of Jolm'H diHciplcH, after th'; irnpriHonrnent of

their master, attjiclied themselve.-; to Jchuh. 'Vhc trari-

Hition waH natural and easy. Jchuh niiiHt have HcemcfJ

U) them like a Hccond Joljn, ^^reater in iniracleH, but
far IcHH in John vvjih wholly a refr>nner.
Hanctity.
He did not take upon him the dutien and hurd(;nH of*
common citi/(-n-hip, f^it .stood apart an a ,JMd<(e and
cennor of inond-:. He liad th;it nevere mood of M.-iric-

tity which alvvayn imprcHHCH \\ut imagination of the

ignorant and the HiiperHtitiouH. Jchuh wan a chhcii.
He knew the fatigucH of labor, the trialn whicli henc-t
poverty, the ternptationn arining from the [practical

conduct of hunincHH. He lived among men in all the

innocent expcrienccH of Hociety life, a cheerful, cotii-

panionahle, and mont winning nature. There waH no

gayety in hin demeanor, hut much cheerfulne-H, He
did not aHHume the prr^fcHsional Hanctity tfiat. waH
much in CHteem. He wan familiar, natural, unpret.en-
tiouH, loving that which wan homely and natural in

men, rather than that which wan artificial and preten-

tiouH.
munt have felt the difference
IJut John'M dinciplcH
in the teaching of the two iuhhU'Sh. VjHpacAnUy ui\wi
they have ohw-rved the devotional npirit of Jchum.
And on the occjwion mentioned, when he had Mpi-nt, in

prayc-r the night preceding the .S^-nnon on the Mount,

Mmm of them ankefl Jchuh to teach th«;m how to [iray,
" HH John ii\nft taught h\s di>u;ipIeH."

Prayer wan no new thing to the JewM. Synagogues

ahounded, and their liturgical «€Tvice wa^ rich in
344 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

prayers, which in general were scrij^tural and emi-

nently devotional. But their very number was bur-
densome, and their repetition confusing. Liturgies
furnish prayers for men in groups and societies. This
meets but one side of human want. Man needs to
draw himself out from among his fellows, and to pray
alone and individually. New wine disdtiins old bot-
tles. Intense feeling will not accept old formulas, but
bursts out into prayer of its own shaping. Yet it

was hardly this last want that led the disciples to ask

Jesus to teach them how to pray. It was more proli-

ably a request that he would, out of the multitude of

prayers already prepared, either select for them or
frame some prayer that should be in sympathy with
the spiritual instruction which he was giving them.
Now, in the Sermon on the Mount, as given by Mat-
thew, Jesus had just been reprehending the practice of
repetition in prayer, so striking in the devotions of
the heathen, who frequently for a half-hour together
vociferate a single sentence, or word even. The dis-
ciples of John very naturally asked him to give them
such a prayer as he would approve. Jesus gave them
what has become known as '^ the Lord's Prayer." It
may be used liturgically, or it may serve as a model
for private prayer, as shall seem most profitaljle.
One knows not which most to admire in this form,
— its loftiness of spirit, its comprehensiveness, its

brevity, its simplicity, or its union of human and divine

elements. Our admiration of it is not disturbed by
that criticism which questions its originality and finds
it to be made up, in part, of prayers already existing.
Is the diamond less princely among stones because its

constituent elements can be shown in other combi-

 TUB SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 345

nations ? The brilliant contrast between the inor-

ganic elements and their crystalline form is a sufficient
answer. All prayer may be said to have crystallized
in this prayer. The Church has worn it for hundreds
of years upon her bosom, as the brightest gem of
devotion.
The opening phrase, Our Father, is the key to
Christianity. God is father; government is personal.
All the tenderness which now is stored up in the
word "
mother " was of old included in the name

"father." The household was governed by law, and

yet it was small enough to enable the father to make
himself the exponent of love and law.
In the household, strength and weakness are
bound together by the mysterious tie of love. The
superior serves the inferior, and yet subordination is
not lost. Children learn obedience through their affec-
tions, and fear supplements higher motives. In this
the family differs from all civil institutions. The father
is in contact with his children, and governs them by

personal influence. The magistrate cannot know or

be known to the Ijiilk of his subjects. Love in the
household is a living influence, in the state it is an
abstraction. In a family where love and law are
commensurate, the father's will is the most perfect
government.
Civil government is an extension of the family only
in nanu'. Kings are not fathers, and national ii-ov-
crnments cainiot ))e paternal because they cannot be
pcrson.il. It is a (juestion of tlie utmost importance,
then, wlicllicr wc sIkiII foiin oiu' idea of the Divine
moral government IVom the liunily or from the state;
whether we shall conceive of IJod as Father or as
346 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

King, and his government as one of abstract laws or

of personal influences. " Our Father " is itself a
whole theology. We are prone to transfer to the
moral administration of God those peculiarities of
civil government which really spring from men's lim-
itation and Aveakness, and are therefore the worst pos-
sible analogies or sj^mbols of Divine things. The im-
personality of magistrates and the abstractions of law
are necessary in human government, because men are
too weak to The Divine gov-
reach a higher model.
ernment, administered by means of universal laws,
still leaves theSupreme Father free to exercise his
personal feelings. If God be only a magistrate, the
charm is gone. He governs no longer by the influ-
ence of his heart, but by a law, which, as projected
from himself, is conceived of by men as a thing sepa-
rate from Divine will, though at first springing from it.
At once justice becomes something inflexible, severe,
relentless. A king is weak in moral power in pro-
portion as he relies upon the law of force. His hand
for matter, his heart for men.
A father on earth, though dear and venerated, is
yet human and imperfect; but a "Father in heaven"
exalts the imagination. The Celestial Father dis-
charges all those duties and offices of love and au-
thoi'ity which the earthly parent but hints at and
imperfectly fulfils. It is the ideal of perfection in

fatherhood. It enhances our conception of the ideal

"
home, in the house not made m ith hands, eternal in
the heavens." As children an earthly family come
in
to a parent, so with all the privileges of children our
spirits ascend to the spiritual Father in heaven.
With -a child's love and admiration mingles not only
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 347

a sense of the superiority of its parent, but an affec-

tionate desire for his honor and dignity. Halloived he
thy name is the expression of the desire that God may
be held in universal reverence. Experiencing the
blessedness of veneration, the soul would clothe the
object of its adoration with the love and admiration
which it deserves. It is not a sui^plication for one's
self, but an affectionate and holy desire for the wel-
fjire of another. There is it no servile adulation,
in
no abject awe. It springs from the highest spiritual
affection,and is rational and ennobling.
In the next petition the soul yearns for that per-
fect state toward which men have always been look-
ing forward. However imperfect the conceptions may
be, men have always conceived of the present as a sin-
gle step in one long advance toward an ideally perfect
state. Somewhere in the future the spirit of man is to
be elevated, purified, perfected. The discords and mis-
rule and wretchedness of the present are not to con-
tinue. From afiir off, advancing surely though slowly
through the ages, comes that kingdom "in which
dwelleth righteousness." Every good man longs for it,
and his thoughts frequently take shelter in it. Th//
kimjdom come is the petition of every one who loves
God and his fellow-man.
The next is like unto it : 7'//// vill he done in ear///.

as il i,s in heaven.

All uatural laws are the euianntions of the Diviue

will. Those riiudameutMl princi|)K's of I'iglit. upon
which all iiiimaii laws arc rouiKlcd. are (U'vived IVom
the Di\ine will. Thai will re|)reseiits onU'r, progress,

and goveruinent. (Jods will is uuiversal haiiuony.

On earth, men are largely ignorant of this regnlative
348 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE C/IRIST.

wiU, and are irregular in their o])eclience to that which

is known, or are wholly disobedient and rebellious.
But in heaven perfect obedience follows knowledge.
The will of God is unobstructed. Men are here in the
uproar of an untuned orchestra, each instrument at
discord with its fellows; but in heaven the chorus
will flow forever in harmonious sweetness. In desir-
ing our own spiritual good,we must come into sym-
pathy with the work of God in the Avhole race, and
seek ardently the consummation of the Divine will
in all the earth and through all time.
Thus far, in the Lord's Prayer, men are taught to
express love, reverence, and the aspiration of earnest
benevolence. They are to put forth their first desires,

and their strongest, in behalf of the Divine glory and

of the welfare of the whole kingdom. Then, as single
individuals in that kingdom, they may make supplica-
tion for their own personal wants. Give its ihk da/j

our daily bread.

Bread may be regarded as the symbol of all that
support which the body needs. To pray for daily
bread is to pray for all necessary support. It is to in-
voke the protection of Divine Providence, and in its

spirit it includes whatever is needed for the comfort of

our physical life. Thus, however favored of wealth
and its fruits, all men have conscious needs which are
touched by the sj)irit of this cry for bread. But they
to whom it was first spoken knew the pangs of hun-
ger. Their daily bread was by no means sure. It
was the one want that never left them. Nor is it to
be forgotten that the great mass of men on tlie globe
to-day are living in such abject condition as to make
the question of food a matter of anxiety for every
 THE SERMON ON TUE MOUNT. 349

single day. The prayer for bread unites more voices

on earth than any other.
The next petition is for the forgiveness of sins ; and
it is coupled with a reminder of man's duty of for-

giveness toward his fellow-men. Forgive us our debts,

as zve forgive our debtors. No other offence seems to
have been regarded as so fatal to true manhood as a
cruel and harm-bearing disposition. Even indifference
to another's welfare aroused the Master's rebuke ; but
a wilful animosity, or an infliction of unnecessary pain,
was regarded with the severest condemnation.^ No
other sin is more common or more culpable. The only
comment of our Lord upon this prayer touches this
malign trait in a manner of peculiar solemnity. For
if ye forgive men their trespasses, your Hcavcnlg Father
will also forgive you but if ye forgive not men their tres-
:

passes, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

The next petition. Lead us not into temptation, is not
inconsistent with the expression of joy when men fall

into divers temptations.^ Men often rejoice in a con-

flict, after it is past, which they dreaded in anticipa-

tion. Looking forth into the future, a soul conscious

of weakness dreads being put under severe temp-
its

tation. Those who have seen the most of active life

will most deeply feel the need of this petition. No
one can tell beforehand how he will be affected by
persistent, insidious, and vehement temptations. Tf it
is a duty to avoid evil, it is surely permissible to
solicit Divine liclp thereto.
15ut when niider I)i\ine PioNidence it is necessary
that men should pass througli a conflict with evil, that

* Sec MaU. vi. 11, 15 ; Luku vi. 87 ; Mutt. .wiii. ar>.

• James i. 2.
350 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

very consciousness of their own weakness which led

them to pray that they might not be tempted now
causes them to turn to God for strength to resist and
overcome the evil. In like manner the Saviour prayed
in Gethsemane that the cup might pass but then, ;

since that might not be, he conformed himself to the

will of God. All deep feelings grow into paradoxes.
Fear and courage may coexist. One may dread to be
tempted, and yet rejoice in being tried.^
9. Fasting. —
We have seen that Jesus was in the
midst of a criticism upon pretentious almsgiving and
ostentatious prayer, when asked to give an example
of prayer. Having complied, he now resumes the in-
terrupted theme, and warns them against fasting in a
spirit of vanity. Religious fosting had long prevailed
among the devout Jews. It had been perverted by
ascetics on the one hand, and by the Pharisees on the

^ The doxology, " For thine is the kingdom," etc., is admirably accordant
with the spirit of the Lord's Prayer, but not with its object. It was not
included in the prayer as originally recorded by Matthew, and in Luke it

does not appear even now. In the Jewish religious synagogical services, to
which the early Christians had been trained, the doxology was of frequent
occurrence, and in using the Lord's Prayer it was natural that it should
be appended to this as to all other prayers. It is not strange that at
length it should creep into the text of early versions, without the design
of improper interpolation, simply because in oral use it had so long been as-

sociated with the prayer itself Tlie most ancient and authoritative manu-
scripts are unanimous in omitting it.

Called forth by the request of a disciple, the prayer was given, as we see

by Matthew's Gospel, as a model of brevity, in contrast with the senseless

repetitions of the heathen prayers. It is an extraordinary fact, that the

Lord's Prayer has been made the agent of that very repetition which it was
meant to correct. Tlioluck says That prayer which He gave
:
" as an anti-
dote to those repetitions is the very one which has been most a])used by
vain repetitions. According to the rosary, the Paler Nostcr (Patriloijuia,
as it is called) is [in certain of the church services] prayed fifteen times (or
seven or five times), and the Ave Maria one hundred and fifty times
(or fifty or sixty-three times)."
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 351

other. Jesus certainly uttered no word which tended

to increase the respect of men for this practice. His
example was regarded as lowering the value of fosting,
and he was on one occasion expostulated with, and
John's example contrasted with his more cheerfid
conduct. But he did not come to found a religion
of the cave or the cloister, but a religion which should
develop every side of manhood, and which, while
deep and earnest, should yet be sweet and cheerful.
In such a religion nothing could be more offensive
than insincere devotion, pretentious humility, and
hypocritical self-denial.
Thus far the discourse had borne upon the popular
notions of religious worship. Jesus now subjects to
the spiritual standard of the new life those economic
opinions which then ruled the world, as they still do.
Next after the glory of military power, the imagina-
tion of the world has always been infatuated with
riches. They command so many sources of enjoy-
ment, and redeem men from so many of the humilia-
tions which poverty inflicts, that the Jew, to whose
fathers wealth was promised as a reward of obedience,
a tol^en of Divine favor, would naturall}' put a very
high estimate upon it. In fact, the pursuit of wealth
was one of the master passions of that age. Every-
thing else was made subordinate to it. It usurped
the place of religion itself, and drew men after it
with a kind of fanaticism. Against this over-valuation
;ni<l iuoidiuatc pursuit of wealth our Lord protested.
Lai/ mt up for tjourselvcs treasures upon earth, .... tnit ta//

up for //oKrsrtrrs treasures in hmrcn. Here moral excel-

lence is put in contrast with ])hysical treasure. Men
are to seek nobility of character, riches of feeling,
352 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

strength of manhood, and not perishable wealth. Nor

can they divide their hearts between virtue and riches
when these stand in opposition. The soul's estate
must be the supreme ambition. Unity and sim-
plicityof moral purpose is indispensable to good-
ness and happiness. The reconciliation of avarice
with devotion, of self-indulgence in luxury with su-
preme love to God, is utterly impossible. One may
serve two masters, if the two are of one mind one ;

may serve two alternately, even if they differ. But

where two masters represent opposite qualities and
wills, and each demands the whole service, it is im-

possible to serve both. Ye cannot serve God and mam-

mon. The absolute supremacy of man's moral nature
over every part of secular life is nowhere taught with
such emphasis and solemnity as in Christ's treatment
of riches. The ardor and force of his declarations
might almost lead one to suppose that he forbade
his followers all participation in riches, as will more
plainly appear when we shall give a summary view of
utterances on that topic.
all his

Not only did Jesus reprobate the spirit of avarice,

but the vulgar form of it Avhich exists among the

poor came under his criticism. All grinding anxiety
for theconmion necessaries of life he declared to be
both unwise and impious unwise, because it did no
:

good impious, because it reflected upon God's kind

;

providence. He referred to that economy in nature

by which everything is provided for in the simple
exercise of its common organs or fiiculties ; the grass,
the lily, the sparrow, had but to put forth their re-
spective powers, and nature yielded all their needs.
Let man, a higher being, put forth his nobler faculties.
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 353

— reason and the moral sentiments, — and a life guid-

ed by these would be sure to draw in its train, not
only virtue and happiness, but whatever of temporal
good is necessary.
There is no worldly wisdom like that which springs
from the moral sentiments. On the great scale, Piety
and Plenty go hand in hand. He that secures God
secures his favoring providence. Man is governed
by laws which reward morality. Piety itself is the
highest morality. Seek ye fird the Idngdom of God and
his righteousness, and all these things shall he added mito
you. The sordid anxieties of the poor and the ava-
rice of the rich spring from the same source, and
are alike culpable. Faith in Divine Providence should
forestall and prevent fretting cares and depressing
fears.

This matchless discourse closes with a series of moral

truths that are clustered together more like a chapter
from the Book of Proverbs than like the flowing
sentences of an ordinary discourse. Censorious judg-
ments of our fellow-men are forbidden. Men who be-
lieve themselves to hold the whole truth, and pride
themselves on knowledge and purity, are very apt to
look witli sus])icion and contempt on all that are not
ortliodox a('(M)r(hng to their standard. Harsh judg-
ments ill religious matters seem inseparable from a
state in which conscience is stronger thnn love. Tjcni-
ency and forgiveness are cominanded blindness to our
;

own faults and sensitiveness to the failings of others

arc j)()iiit( d out. Caution is cujoiiKMl in speaking of
eminent truths in the hejiring of the base. The fa-
therhood of Cod, far nobler and kinder than any
354 ^'///-' LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

earthly fatherhood, is made the ground of confident

supplication. The Golden Rule is set forth. Religion
is declared not to be an indolent luxury, but a vehe-
ment strife, taxing men's resources to the uttermost.
His disciples are cautioned against false teachers,
against specious morality, against a boastful famil-
iarity with Divine things while the life is carnal and
secular ; and, finally, his hearers are urged to a prac-
tical use of the whole discourse by a striking pic-
ture of houses built upon the sand or upon the rock,
and their respective powers of endurance.
1. In this sermon of Jesus there is a full and con-

tinual disclosure of a Divine consciousness which did

not leave him to the end of his career. His method
was that of simple declaration, and not of reasoning or
of proof. The simple sentences of the Sermon fell

from him as ripe fruit from the bough in a still day.

Although they reached out far beyond the attain-
ments of his age, and developed an ideal style of
character and a sphere of morality which addressed
itself to the heroic elements in man, his teachings

were not labored nor elaborate, but had the complete-

ness and brevity of thoughts most familiar to him.
He unfolded the old national faith to its innermost
nature. In his hands glowed as if it were de-
it

scended from heaven and yet he spoke of the relig-

;

ion of the Jews with the authority of a god, and not

with the submissiveness of a man. He stood in the
road along which travelled a thousand traditions and
and turned them aside by his simple, im-
evil glosses,
say unto you "
perial, " I !

There was no inequality or unharmony in the

whole discourse. The pitch at the beginning was
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 355

taken far above the line of any doctrine then in prac-

tice, and to the end the elevation was sustained. It
was the teaching of one who saw men as men had
never yet been. The possible manhood, never yet
developed, was familiar to Jesus, and upon that ideal
he fashioned every 23recept. Not a note fell from the
pitch. Every single thought was brought up to a man-
hood far transcending that of his own age. It is this
that gives to the Sermon on the Mount an air of im-
possibility. Men look upon its requisitions as exceed-
ing the power of man. But none of them were
lowered in accommodation to the moral tone of his
times, every one of them chording with the key-
note, — Except your rigJifeousness shall exceed the righteous-

ness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case eixler

into the kingdom of heaven.
2. In its spirit and secret tendency the Sermon on
the Mount may be regarded as a charter of personal
LIBERTY. It does uot foruiully proclaim man's freedom,
but no one can follow it without that result. It places
moral life upon grounds which imply and promote

moial sovereignty in the individual. This it does by

removing the emphasis of authority derived from all
it in man's own moral con-
external rules,. and placing
sciousness. an ai)peal from rules to principle^.
It is

Rules are mere methods by which principles are specifi-

cally applied. Feeble and undeveloped natures ueed
at each step a formula of action. Tliey are not wise
enough to a]i])ly a principle to the chauging circum-
stances of e.\])erience. But rules that help the weak
to follow principle should lend to educate tliem to
follow pi'iuciplc without such licl]). lnstca<I of that,
rulers, teachers, .-nid hiciaichs. (indiug them cou\i'uient
356 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

instruments of authority, multipl}^ them, clothe them

with the sanctity of principles, and hold men in a
bondage of superstition to customs, rites, and arbitrary
regulations.
The appeal in the Sermon on the Moiuit is always
to the natural grounds of right, and never to the tra-
ditional, the historical, and the artificial. In no single
case did Jesus institute a method, or external law.
Every existing custom or practice which he touched
he resolved back to some natural faculty or principle.
By shifting the legislative -power from the external to
the internal, from rules to principles, from synagogues
and Sanhedrim to the livins; moral consciousness of
men, the way was prepared for great expansion of
reason and freedom of conscience. The most striking
example of philosophic generalization in history is that
by which Jesus reduced the whole Mosaic system and
the whole substance of Jewish literature into the
simple principle of love. " Thou shalt love the Lord
thy God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as thy-
self. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the

Prophetsr
This discourse recos-nizes the soul as the man. The
body only a passive instrument. Action is but the
is

evidence of what is croing; on within it has no moral

;

good or bad, except that which is impressed

character,
upon it by the fiiculties which inspire it. A man's
thoughts and cherished feelings determine his char-
acter. He may be a murderer, who never slays his
enemy an adulterer, who never fulfils the wishes of
;

illicit love an irreligious man, who spends his life in

;

offices of devotion a selfish creature, whose vanity in-

;

spires charitable gifts. It is the soul that determines

 ;

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 357

manhood. Only God and man's self can control these.

Man is the love-servant of God, and sovereign of him-
self The highest personal liberty consists in the
abilityand willingness of man to do right from inward
choice, and not from external influences.
3. In this inward and spiritual element we have

the solution of difficulties which to many have be-

set what may be called the political and economic
themes of this discourse. Jesus disclosed to his dis-
ciples a kingdom in which no man should employ
physical force in self-defence and yet this would ;

seem to o;ive unobstructed dominion to selfish streno-th.

No man may resist the unlawful demands of govern-
ment, — let him rather do cheerfully far more than is

wrongfully required, — and to every aspect of physi-

cal force he would have his disciples oppose only the
calmness and kindness of benevolence; yet this would
seem to make wicked governments secure. The his-
tory of civilization certainly shows that society can
redeem itself from barbarism only by enterprise, by
painstaking industry, hy sagacious foresight and rea-
sonable care ;Imt Jesus refers his disciples to the
flowers jind birds as exemplars of freedom froui care
forbids men
to lay up treasure on earth, or to live in
regard to earthly things more than by the single day,
and declares that they must hnplicitly trust the pa-
ternal care ol" God for all their wants. Nay, if they
are ])ossess(_'d of some wealth, they are not to hus-
band it, but f/ivc lo hiiii iliat ((skclh thct\ u ml from him
IJuil ti'oulil horrnti' of IJicr /urn unl /limi nirajj.

it is ceitaiu that a literal infci-pretation of these

precepts respecting giving, lending, resistance of evil,

ibretliought, ac({uisition of property and its tenure in

358 '^^^^''^ ^^^^ 0^^ JESUS, THE CHRIST.

common, would bring Christianity into conflict with

every approved doctrine of political economy, and
would seem to compel man to spend his earthly life
in little more than meditation, —a conception which
might suit the natural ease, not to say indolence, of
an Oriental life in a genial tropical climate, but which
would seem utterly ruinous to the prosperity of a
vigorous and enterprising race in the cold zones and
upon a penurious soil. To insist upon a literal ful-
filment of ani/ economic precepts would violate the
spirit of the discourse, whose very genius it is to re-

lease men from bondage to the letter and bring them

into the liberty of the spirit.
It is very certain that an earnest attempt to make
the spirit of these precepts the rule of life will bring

out in men a moral force of transcendent value, and

that among primitive Christians, and in modern days
in the small company of Friends, a remarkable degree
of prosperity even in worldly things has followed a
more rigorous interpretation of these commands than
is generally practised. On the other hand, the at-
tempt to make property the common and equal pos-
session of all has led to some of the worst social evils.

The partial success which has attended the experi-

ment, in small bodies, has been at the expense of a
general development of the individuals. But whether
an immediate and literal obedience to Christ's teach-
ings upon the subject of property and industry would
be beneficial, or would be possible in nations not
placed as. the Jews were, —
whether the weight of
society and all the accumulations of that very civili-
zation which Christianity has produced could be sus-
tained upon such foundations, — hardly admits of
 THE SERMON ON THE }fOUNr. 359

debate. If his preceptswere meant ever to be taken

literally, it must have been in a condition of society in

the future, of which there was yet no pattern among

men.
It is certain that every step which human life has
ever taken toward a full realization of the general
morality of the Sermon on the Mount has developed
an unsuspected and wonderful prosperity, moral and
social.

We must believe, then, that Jesus gave this grand

picture of the new life for immediate and practical
use, but that it was to be interpreted, not by the
narrowness of the letter, but by the largeness of the
spirit. He seemed to foresee what has so often ap-
peared, the ])arren admiration of men who praise this
discourse as a power, as a merely ideal justice, as a
beautiful but impracticable scheme of ethics ; for he
turns upon such, at the close, with a striking para-
ble designed to enforce the immediate application of
his teachings. And why call ye me Lord, Lord, and
do not the things which I say ? Tlierefore whosoever
cometh to me, and heareth these sayings of mine, and
doeth them, I will show you to whom he is like he :

is like a wise man which built his house and ditji:<!:ed

deep, and laid the foundation on a rock and when ;

till' rain descended, and the Hoods came, and the

winds blew, and the storm beat violently upon that
house and could not shake it, it fell not, for it was
founded on ;i rock. But every one that heareth these
sayings ol" uiine, and dot'tli them nol, is liko a fool-
ish man. which built his house without a. Ibundation
upon the sand and the rain descended, and the Hoods
;

came, and the winds blew, and the storm did beat
360 ^'^^' ^^^''^i OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

vehemently upon that house, and immediately it fell,

and great was the fall of it.
4. The hold which the Sermon on the Mount has

had, and continues to have, upon men of diverse tem-

peraments and beliefs, is not to be accounted for by
an inventory of its ethical points. It reached to the
very centre of rectitude, and gave to human conduct
inspirations that will never diminish. All this might
have been done in unsympathetic severity, leaving
the Sermon like a mountain barrier between right
and wrong, so rugged, barren, and solitary that men
would not love to ascend or frequent it. But Jesus
breathed over the whole an air of genial tranquillity
that wins men to it as to a garden. The precepts
grow like flowers, and are fragrant. The cautious
and condemnations lie like sunny hedges or walls
covered with moss or vines. In no part can it be
called dreamy, yet it is pervaded by an element of
sweetness and peace, which charms us none the less
because it eludes analysis. Like a mild day in early
June, the sky, the earth, the air, the birds and herbage,
things near and things far off, seem under some
heavenly influence. The heavens unfold, and in j^lace
of dreadful deities we behold " Our Father." His
personal care is over all the affairs of life. The trials

of this mortal sphere go on for a purpose of good, and

our fears, our burdens, and our sufferings are neither
accidents nor vengeful punishments, but a discipline
of education. The end of life is a glorified manhood.
At every step Jesus invokes the nobler motives of the
human soul. There is nothing of the repulsiveness of
morbid anatomy. Where the knife cut to the very
nerve, it was a clean and wholesome blade, that carried
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 361

no poison. The whole discourse lifts one out of the

lower and sets in motion those higher impulses
life,

from which the soul derives its strength and haj^piness.

While it has neither the rhythm nor the form of
poetry, yet an ideal element in it produces all the
charms of poetry. Portions of the Sermon might be
chanted in low tones, as one sings cheering songs in
his solitude. It is full of light, full of cheer, full of
faith in Divine love and of the certainty of possible
goodness in man. The immeasurable distance between
the flesh and the spirit, between the animal and man,
isnowhere more clearly revealed than in this beautiful
discourse. Thus the Son of God stood among men,
talking with them face to face as a brother, and giving
to them, in his own spirit, glimpses of that heavenly
rest for which all the world, at times, doth sigh.

The Sermon on tlie Mount drew a line which left

the great body of the influential men of his country
on one and Jesus and his few disciples on the
side,
other. If were to be merely a discourse, and nothing
it

else, it might be tolerated. But if it was a policy, to

be followed up by active measures, it was scarcely less

than an open declaration of war. The Pharisees were

Ik- 1(1 by name to the severest criticism. Their
lip

philosophy and their most sacred religious customs

were mercilessly denounced, and men were warned
against their tendencies. The influence of the criti-

cisms u])on fasting, prayer, and almsgiving was not

limited lo liiese special topics, but iiiiist have been
regarded as an attack upon the whole uielhod of wor-
ship by means of cumbersome rituals. Kitualisni was
not expressly forl)i(l(leii ; but if the iuvisibk' was to be
362 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

SO highly esteemed, if simplicity, heart purity, spirit-

uality, and absolute privacy of spiritual life, were to be
accepted as the governing ideals of worship, all author-
itative and obligatory ritualism would wither and drop
away from the ripened grain as so much chaff, — with-
out prejudice, however, to the spontaneous use of such
material forms in worship as may be found by any
one to be specially helpful to him. Neither in this
sermon nor in any after discourse did Jesus encourage
the use of symbols, if we except Baptism and the
Lord's Supper. He never rebuked men for neglect of
forms, nor put one new interpretation to them, nor
added a line of attractive color. The whole land was
full of ritual customs. The days were marked.all

The very hours were numbered. Every emotion had

its channel and course pointed out. Men were drilled
to religious methods, until all spontaneity and personal
liberty had wellnigh become extinct. In the midst
of such artificial ways, Christ stands up as an emanci-

pator. He appeals directly to the reason and to the

conscience of men. He founds nothing upon the old
authority. He even confronts the " common law " of
his nation with his own personal authority, as if his

words would touch a responsive feeling in every heart.

"Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time,"
— But I my iinto you. This was an appeal from all
the past to the living consciousness of the present. It

was so understood. There was an unmistakable and

imperial force in that phrase, "I say unto you"; and
when the last sentence had been heard, there was a
stir,and the universal feeling broke out in the expres-
sion, " He teaches as one having authority, and not as
the Scribes."
 THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 363

Whatever may have kept the Pharisees silent, there

can be no doubt that this discourse was regarded by
them as an end of peace. Henceforth their only
thought was how to com^jass the downMl of a dan-
gerous man, who threatened to alienate the people
from their religious control.Every day Jesus would
now be more closely watched. His enemies were all
the while in secret counsel. Step by step they fol-
lowed him, from the slopes of Mount Hattin to the
summit of Calvary !
364 ^'^^' ^ii-^t'^ OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

CHAPTER XYI.
THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT.

The crowd did not disperse or open to let Jesus

pass through, but closed about him and thronged his
steps, ashe returned home to Capernaum. His dis-
courses seem to have fascinated the people almost as
much as his wonderful deeds astonished them. We do
not imagine that the walk was a silent one. There
must have been much conversation by the way, much
discussion, and doubtless many replies of wisdom and
beneficence from Jesus not less striking than the sen-
tences of the sermon. From this time forth the life

of Jesus crowded with dramatic incidents.

is No-
where else do we find so many events of great moral
significance painted with unconscious skill by so few
strokes. Their number perplexes our attention. Like
stars in a rich cluster in the heavens, they run to-
gether into a haze of brightness, to be resolved into
their separate elements only by the strongest glass.
Each incident, if drawn apart and studied separately,
afibrds food for both the imagination and the heart.
By one occurrence a striking insight is given into
the relations which sometimes subsisted between the
Jews and their conquerors. Not a few Romans, it may
be believed, were won to the Jewish religion. The
centurion of Capernaum, without doubt, was a convert.
We cannot conceive otherwise that he should have built
 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 365

the Jews a synagogue, and that he should be on such

intimate terms with the rulers of it as to make them

his messengers to Jesus. This Roman, like so many

other subjects of the Gospel record, has come down
to us without a name, and, except a single scene, with-
out a history.
Soon after the return of Jesus to Capernaum, he was
met (where, it is not said) by the rulers of the syna-
gogue, bearing an earnest request from the centurion
that he would heal a f^ivorite slave, who lay sick and
at the point of death.The honorable men who bore
the message must have been well known to Jesus, and
their importunity revealed their own interest in their
errand. " They besought him instantly, saying that
he was worthy for whom he should do this." Nor
should we fail to notice this appeal made to the patri-
otism of Jesus, wdiich, coming from men who were
familiar with his and teachings, indicates a marked
life

quality of his disposition. " He loveth our nation, and

he hath built us a synagogue." That the heart of
Jesus was touched is shown in that he required no tests
of faith, but with prompt sympathy said, ^' I will come
and heal him." And, suiting the action to the word, he
went with them at once to the centurion's house.
Learning that Jesus was drawing near, the centu-
lion sent another deputation, whose message, both for
courtesy and for Iniinility, in one born to connnand,

was striking, — ''Lord, tr()iil)le not thyself; for 1 wwi

not worthy that tliou shouldest enter under my roof:
wherefore neither thought I myself worthy to come
unto thee; but speak the word only, and my servant
shall be healed." 'i'lieii, alluding to his own command
over his followers, he iuq)lies that .lesus ha.s but to
366 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

make known his will, and all diseases, and life, and
death would obey as promptly as soldiers the
itself,

word of command. The whole scene filled Jesus with

pleasurable astonishment. He loved the sight of a
noble nature. And yet the between the
contrast
hardness of his unbelieving countrymen and the art-
less dignity of faith manifested by this heathen for-
eigner brought grief to his heart. It suggested the
rejection of Israel and the ingathering of the Gentiles.
Many shall come from the east and west, and shall
sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the

kingdom of heaven; but the children of the king-

dom shall be cast out into outer darkness. Then
turning to the messenger he said, "Go thy way; and
as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee." Tire
servant was instantly healed.
The severity of tone with which Jesus spoke of the
unbelief of the leaders of his people, and of his re-
jection by them, is only one among many indications
of the rising intensity of his feelings at this period.
Every day seemed to develop in him a higher energ}^
His calmness did not forsake him, but the sovereignty
of his nature was every hour more apparent. He
was now more than ever to grapple with demonic in-
fluences, and to overcome them. He was about to
make his power felt in the realms of death, and
bring back to life those who had passed from it. The
conduct of his family and the criticisms of the jealous
Pharisees, aswe shall soon see, plainly enough indi-
cate that this elevation of spirit manifested itself in
hiswhole carriage, and many even believed that he
was insane, or else under infernal influences.
On the day following the healing of the centurion's
 !

THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 367

servant, Jesus, on one of the short excursions which

he was wont to make from Capernaum, came to the
village of Nain, on the slope of Little Hermon and
nearly south of Nazareth, on the edge of the great
plain of Esdraelon. In the rocky sides of the hill
near by were hewn the burial-chambers of the vil-
lage, and toward them, as Jesus drew near, was slowly
proceeding a funeral was a widowed mother
train. It
bearing her only son to the sepulchre. She was well
known, and the circumstances of her great loss had
touched the sympathies of her townsfolk, " and much
people of the city was with her." His first word was
one of courage to the disconsolate mourner, " Weep —
not!" He then laid his hand upon the bier. Such
was his countenance and commanding attitude that
the procession halted. There was to be no deluding
ceremony, no necromancy. " Young man, I say unto
!

thee. Arise The blood again beat from his heart,

"

the light dawned ujjon his eyes, and his breathing lips
spake
There is no grief like a mother's grief. No one who
has the heart of a son can see a great nature given
up to inconsolable sorrow without sympathy. It was
not the mission of Jesus to stay the hand of death, nor
did he often choose to bring back the spirit that had
once fled ; but there seem to have been two motives
The overwhelming grief of
here for his interposition.
the widowed mother wrought strongly u})on liis sym-
pathy, and there were special reasons why he sliould
just now lu.ike ;i siii)r('iiH' manifestation ol" liis Divine
power. Every day the leaven of opposition to him
was working. ()])enly or insidiously, he was i-csisted
and viliri('(l. His own s[)irit evidently was loused to
368 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

intensity,and began to develop an elevation and force

which any hitherto put forth. At such
far surpassed
a time, the restoration to life of a dead man, in the
presence of so vast a throng, could not but produce
a deep impression. It was an act of sovereignty
which would render powerless the efforts of the emis-
saries from Jerusalem to wean the common people
from his influence. This end seems to have been
gained. The people were electrified, and cried out,
"A great prophet is risen up among us! " others said,
" God hath visited his people." The tidings of this
act ran through the nation ; not only in " the region
round about," but " the rumor of him went forth
throughout all Judaea."
The battle now begins. Everywhere he carried with
him the enthusiastic multitude. Everywhere the Tem-
ple party, lurking about his steps, grew more deter-
mined to resist the reformation and to destroy the
reformer. We are not to suppose that the presence
and the miracles of Jesus produced the same effect
upon the multitudes present with him that they do
upon devout and believing souls now. Our whole life
has been educated by the discourses of this Divine Man.
We do violence to our nature, to all our associations
and sympathies, if we do not believe. But in the
crowds which surrounded Jesus in his lifetime there
was every conceivable diversity of disposition and ;

though curiosity and wonder and a general social ex-

hilaration were common to all, these were not valuable
in the eyes of Jesus. The insatiable hunger of Ori-
entals for signs and wonders was even a hindrance to
his designs of instruction. In every way he repressed
this vague and fruitless excitement. The deeper moral
 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 369

emotions which he most esteemed were produced in

very imperfect forms and in but comparatively few
persons. Cautious men held their convictions in sus-
pense. Many favored him and followed him without
really committing themselves to his cause.
There will always be men who
show favor towill
the hero of the hour. Such a one was Simon the
Pharisee, who probably dwelt in Nain or in its neigh-
borhood, for at that time this whole region was pop-
ulous and prosperous. It had not then been given
over to the incursions of the Bedouins, who for cen-
turies have by continual ravages kept this beautiful
territory in almost complete desolation.
Invited to the house of Simon to dine, Jesus re-
paired thither with his disciples. There went with
him, also, unbidden guests. Not the widowed mother
alone had felt the sympathy of his nature. While he
was bringing back to life her son, there was in the
crowd one who felt the need of a resurrection from
the dead even more than if her body, rather than her
honor, had died. In the presence of Jesus the sense
of her degradation became unendurable. In him she
beheld a l>enefactor who might rescue her. All men
despised her. Her reputation, like a brazen wall,
stood between her and reformation. For her there
were no helpers. Bad men were friendly only for
evil. Moral men slnit up their sym])athies from one
who Avas an outcast. The gratitude of the mother for
her cliild restored must have been like incense to the
sensitive soul of Jesus. But it is doubtful whether he
did not more profoundly rejoice in the remorse, the
absor})ing grief, the hope strugghng against despair,
that fdled the bosom of this unknown Magdalen.
24
370 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

As Jesus reclined at dinner, according to the Ori-

ental custom, this penitent woman, coming behind,
without word or permission, wept at the feet of Jesus
unrebuked. So copiously flowed her tears that his feet
were wet, and with her dishevelled locks she sought to
remove the sacred tears of penitence. The very per-
fumes which had been provided for her own person she
lavished upon this stranger's feet. That she was not
spurned was to her trembling heart a sign of grace and
favor. When the Pharisee beheld, without sympathy,
the forbearance of Jesus, up his heart against
it stirred
his guest. Like many others he had been in suspense
as to the true character of the man. Now the decis-
ion was unfavorable. It was clear that he was not a
prophet of God. "This man, if he were a prophet,"
he said within himself, " would have known who and
what manner of woman this is that toucheth him for :

she is a sinner." He could not conceive of a divinity

of compassion. God, to his imagination, was only an
enlarged Pharisee, careful of his own safety, and care-
less of those made wretched by their own sins. These
thoughts were interpreted upon his countenance by a
look of displeasure and contempt. He did not expect
to be humbled in the sight of all his guests by an
exposition of his own seems that
inhospitality; for it

while he had invited Jesus to dine, it was more from

curiosity than respect, and he seems to have consid-
ered that the favor which he thus conferred released
him from those rites which belong to Oriental hospi-
tality. In a parable, Jesus propounded to him a ques-
tion. If a creditor generously forgives two debtors,
one of fifty pence and the other of five hundred,
which will experience the most gratitude ? The an-
 ;

THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 371

swer was obvious, "I suppose that he to whom he

forgave most." "Thou hast rightly judged." Then,
in simple phrase, but with terrible emphasis, he con-
trasted the conduct of this fallen woman with the
insincere hospitality of the host. " Seest thou this
woman ? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me
no water for my feet : but she hath washed my feet
with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head.
Thou gavest me no kiss but this woman : since the
time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My
head with oil thou didst not anoint : but this woman
hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I
say unto thee. Her sins, which are many, are forgiven
for she loved much but to whom little is
: forgiven,
the same loveth little." With ineffable grace, Jesus
turns from the Pharisee, silent under this rebuke, to
the woman :
" Thy sins are forgiven." The effect
produced upon the company shows that these words
were no mere pious phrases, but were uttered with
an authority which a mere man had no right to
assume. "Who is this that forgiveth sins also?"
Truly, who can forgive sins but God only ? Jesus did
not deign an explanation. In the same lofty mood
of sovereignty he dismissed the ransomed soul :
"Thy
faith hath saved thee ;
go in peace." But such a gra-
cious sentence was the strongest possible confirmation
of their judgment that he had assumed to perform the
functions of a Divine Being.
We shall hereafter find many a brief controversy in
uliicli a |)arab]e, or a simple (|uesti()n touching the
manow of things, puts his adversaries to silence, con-
them even when they would not be convinced.
victing
Upon this day there had been two deaths, and the
372 '-i^JiJ'^ J-^tTE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

living death the most piteous and least pitied among

men: two and the lews marvellous of
resurrections,
the two was the more wondered at two proofs of
:

Divinity,— one to the senses, and impressive to the

lowest and highest alike; the other transcendently
l)rigliter, hut perceived only by those whose moral

sensibilities gave them spiritual eyesight. The fur'

ther history of the widow's son is not recorded. For
a moment he stands forth with singular distinctness,
and then sinks back into forgetfulneSvS, without name
or memorial.
At about this time the figure of John comes for a
moment to the light. He had probably lain for six
months in his prison at Machoerus. Although in his
youth he had been trained in solitude, it was the soli-
tude of freedom and of the wilderness. There is evi-
dence that his long confinement in prison began to
wear upon his spirits. It is true that he was not

wholly cut off from the companionship of men. As

John's offence was political only in pretence, Herod
did not guard his prisoner so but that his disciples had
access to him. Can we doubt what was the one theme
of the Baptist's inquiry? The work which he had
begun, which Jesus was to take up, —
how fared it?
Why was there no overwhelming disclosure of the
new kingdom? Of what use were discourses and won-
derful works so long as the nation stood unmoved ? A
long time had elapsed since Christ's baptism. He had
not openly proclaimed even his Messiahship. He had
rot gathered his followers either into a church or an
army. He gave no signs of lifting that banner which
was to lead Israel to universal supremacy. He was
spending his days in Galilee, far from Jerusalem, the
 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 373

proper capital of the new kingdom as of the old, and

among a largely foreign population. Nor was he de-
nouncing the wickedness of his times as John did, nor
keeping the reserve of a lofty sanctity, but was teach-
ing in viUages like a prophet-schoolmaster, receiving
the frequent hospitality of the rich, and even partaking
of social festivities and public banquets. Many of
John's disciples, as we know, were with Jesus during
several of his journeys, attentive listeners and observ-
ers. Many openly adhered to the new leader, and all

seemed friendly. But it is natural that a few should

be jealous for their old master, and that they should
prefer the downright impetuosity of John to the calmer
and gentler method of Jesus. They would naturally
carry back to the solitary man in prison accounts col-
ored by their feelings. To all this should be added
that depression of spirits which settles upon an ener-
getic nature when no longer connected with actual
affairs. Much of hope and courage springs from sym-
pathy and contact with society. We grow uncertain
of things which we can no longer see.
Whatever may have been John's mood and its
causes, it is certain that the message whicli he now
sent to Jesus implied distressing doubts, which were
reprehended by the closing sentence of Jesus's replj''.

Blessed is he., ivhosoever shall not be offended in me. John

was in danger of losing faith in Jesus, and there is

an almost piteous tone of entreaty in the in(|uiry

which he sent his disciples to make: "Art thou he
that should <'<)me ? or look we lln* another?" Of
what use would be an asseveration in words, or an
apologetic ex])lanati()n ? 'I'heie was a more cogent

reply. It would sihmu that .lesus di'layed his answer,

 :

374 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

and went on with his teaching and miracles in the

presence of John's waiting disciples. " In that same
hour he cured many of their infirmities and plagues,
and of evil spirits and unto many that were blind
;

he gave sight." messengers

It is possible that these
had been with Jesus at Nain and beheld the rais-
ing of the widow's son, since he mentions the raising
of the dead as one of the acts of power which they
had witnessed, and the widow's son was the first in-
stance recorded. During his ministry only three cases
of this kind are mentioned, namely, the young man at
Nain, the daughter of Jairus, and Lazarus, the brother
of Mary and Martha. Yet it by no means follows
that these were the only instances.
These wonderful deeds, enacted before their eyes,
were the answer which they were to carry back. It
implies the essential nobility of John's nature, as if he
only needed to be brought into sympathy with such
living work to recognize the Divine power. " Go, ....
tell John these things which ye have seen and heard
how that the blind receive their sight, and the lame
walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the
dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel
preached unto them."
It was not rumor of wonderful works that
the
John's messengers were to carry back, but the testi-
mony of what they themselves had "seen and heard."
No rumor could surpass the reality none of all the ;

special deeds performed would be likely to satisfy the

mind of John so much as the greatest marvel of all,
— that one had appeared to whom the poor were an
object of solicitude ! Not the healing of the sick, nor
even the raising of the dead, was so surprising as
 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 375

that a person clothed with Divine power, able to draw

to him the homage of the rich and of the influential,
should address himself specially to the poor. Wonders
and miracles might be counterfeited but a sympathy ;

with suffering and helplessness so tender, so laborious,

and so long continued, was not likely to be simulated.
Such humanity was unworldly and divine.
Ample provision was made among the Jews for the
instruction of all the families of the nation, but the
great disasters which had befallen that people had in-
terrupted the action of this benevolent polity. Sifted
in among the native Jews, especially in Galilee, were
thousands of foreigners, many of them extremely ig-

norant, debased, and poor, who were objects of re-

ligious prejudice and aversion. The Mosaic institutes
breathed a spirit of singular humanity toward the
poor. No nation of antiquity can show such benevo-
lent enactments ; nor can Christian nations boast of
any advance in the temper or polity by which the
poverty are alleviated and the weak preserved
evils of
from the oppression of the strong. It was promised
to the ancient Jew, at least by implication, that, if he
maintained the Divine economy established by Moses,
"there shall be no poor among you" (Deut. xv. 4, 5).

In the palmy days of Israel there were no beggars;

and there is no Hebrew word for begging.^ But in

' I'rott'ssor T. .J. Conant, of" Brooklyn, for many years engafjed in tlie

translation and revision of the Scriptures for tlie American Bible Union,
a friend to whom I am indebted for many valuable suggestions in matters
of scholarly research, writes me. in reference to this, as ibllows :
—
" There is no word in IIci)rew that sjH'cifn ally means to f/e;/. Three
verbs, hn'Z' in Kal lo ask; I'iel Id ask- ini/iorhiiKtlrli/, f/p3 In seek; and }i/-n

to senrrfi for, to seek; are strained from their natural sense to express beg-
ging, for lack of a proper expression <•(' it
; and tliis iu only tinu- pass;iges.

"Tin- first, Sx;!^ (compare .Judges v. 'jri, 'lie asked water'), Kal form,
 "

376 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE ClItilST.

the distemper of those later times all regard for the

poor had wellnigh perished. Jesus renew^ed the old
national feeling in a nobler form. Himself poor, the
child of the poor, he devoted himself to the welfare of
the needy; and though he associated freely with all

ranks and classes of people, his sympathy for the poor

never waned, and his ministrations continued to the
very end to be chiefly among them.
John's disciples depart. The great excitable and
fickle crowd remain. How easily they had let go of
John ! How eagerly they had taken up Jesus ! How
quickly would they rush after the next novelty ! Like
the tides, this changeable people were always coming
and going, under influences which they could neither
control nor understand. It did not please Jesus to see
them the sport of every fantastic creation that could
dazzle them with pretentious novelties.
What went ye out into the wilderness for to see ?
A reed shaken with the wind? It was as if he had said,
Now it is a mountebank, shrewd and shifty, that sends
you roaming into some gathering-place, hoping for de-
liverance from the oppressor at the hands of one who
is used in Proverbs xx. 4, 'shall beg in harvest,' — properly, shall ask help;

Piel (intensive), Psalm cix. 10, 'let his children be vagabonds and beg,' —
properly, ask importunately.
" The second, t:;p3 (participle), is used in Psalm xxxvii. 25, '
nor his
seed begging bread,' — properly, seeking breads as it is translated in Lamen-
tations i. 19, 'they sought their meat.'
" The third, t'y\, is used in Psalm cix. 10, 2d member, Eng. V., 'let them
seek (their bread).' Gesenius needlessly gives it (here only) the sense
to beg. The meaning is, let them seek (help), be seekets, far from their
ruined homes.
"The word '
beggar,' in 1 Samuel ii. 8, is a mistranslation of pOX, needy,
poor.
" I think it entirely safe to say, as you have done, that *
there is no He-
brew word for begging.'
 !

THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 377

only plays on your credulity for his own benefit, and

is himself swayed hither and thither by the breath of
self-interest, like a reed quivering in the wind
Turning to others, he said : But what went ye out
for to see ? A man clothed in soft raiment ? Did you
expect deliverance would come to Israel from rich and
luxurious men, pleasure-loving courtiers ? Look for
such men only in courts and mansions. They will
never task themselves for this people, but will bask in
sumptuous palaces.
Turning again to others, Jesus said : But what
went ye out for to see ? A iwophet ? A great re-
former, flaming with indignation at evil, and vehement

in rebuke ? John was indeed a prophet, eminent above

the great brotherhood of former days. No otlier
prophet was ever like him; and yet even John can
never bring in that kingdom which God has promised
to his people. The kingdom of the spirit is not phy-
sical nor ibrceful. It dwells in the heart. It is the

empire within the soul, pure, spontaneous, benevolent.

Even the least member of this kingdom of the s[)irit

is greater than the greatest prophet of the old and

external dispensation.
This was the lan<2:ua«i'e of criticism and rebuke. It

contrasted the eagerness which many among his hear-

ers h;id shown to rush after any sign of ein[)ire that
had the tokens of external movement and force, and
the disappointment which they could not conceal that
Jesus should, with all his wonderful power, do noth-
ing except to instruct people and to relieve \\\(i sul-

ferings of the unfortunate. If this is all, said tln-y, if

marvel and discourse ai-e not leadinij; on tt) or«ianized
revolt and to victorious onset, what is the use of
378 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

them ? Truth and purity of motive and self-denjnng

kindness may be all very well, but will they dispossess
foreign armies and reinstate the Jewish rulers ? Thus
the real excellence of the new kingdom was turned
against it as a weakness.
The teaching and miracles of Jesus were doing lit-
tle good, and seemed to quicken that fatal tendency

toward pride and self-indulgence which had already

prevented the development of moral sensibility. It

was not personal but political changes that men

wanted. Neither John nor Jesus fed their insatiable
ambition, and each in turn was rejected on a mere
pretence. John is a recluse, abstinent, rigorously se-
vere. He is possessed by the demon of the wilder-
ness ! Jesus dwells among his people, adopts the
social customs of his times, disowns all pretentious
fiisting and all acerb morality. He eats and drinks
like other men to-day he breaks bread among the
:

poor ; to-morrow some ostentatious rich man will have

him at his table ;
— it makes no difierence. A couch
or the hard plank of a ship, the banquet or the crust
of bread, are alike to him. But this universal social
sympathy is charged against him by his censorious
critics He is a dissipated fellow, a companion of
:

grossly wicked men For John the Baptist came neither

!

caiiug bread nor drinMug ivine ; and ye sag, He hath a

devil. The Son of Man is come eating and drinJcing ; and
ye say, Behold a gluttonous man, and a tvinehibber, a friend
of publicans and sinners !

To such unfriendly thoughts Jesus replies by point-

ing out a group of peevish children that had gath-
ered in the public square. Their companions cry,
"Let us play funeral." No, they will not play at
 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 379

that; it is too solemn. Well, then, play wedding!

No, they do not like pipes and dancing ! Nothing
will suit them. The severity of John and the gentle-
ness of Jesus were alike unpalatable to men who
wanted riches, power, and obsequious flatteries. This
impenetrable worldliness appears to have affected the
spirits of Jesus in an unusual degree. He was sad-
dened that so little of promise had resulted from his
labors.
In the full sovereignty of his nature, he called to
judgment the cities in which he had wrought the most
striking miracles in the greatest numbers with the
least possible effects. " Woe unto thee, Bethsaida," —
itwas a soliloquy probably, low-voiced, and heard only
by his disciples, —
"woe unto thee, Chorazin for if !

the mighty works which were done in you had been

done in Tyre and Sidon [heathen cities], they would
have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes." In
this solemn hour, Capernaum, his home after his re-
jection by the people of Nazareth, rose before him
as guiltiest of all. Nowhere else had he taught so
assiduously, or performed so many beneficent works.
He dwelt there, and was there well known. Yet in
no other place was there so little change for good.
''Tlion, Capernaum, which art exalted unto heaven,
sliiilt l)(' bioiigbt down to bell .... it shall be more
;

tolerable for the land of Sodom, in the day of judg-

ment, than for thee." Jesus did not undervalue the
guilt of the cities of the plain. He left bestial vices
{IS odious ;is llie moral sense of the world ba<l ranked
tlieni. \*)\\i he raised the estimate of the guilt of
selfisli Sodom was not less, but
and sordid sins.

Capernaum was more, guilty tliaii men judged. The

380 '^'11'^ f^ll'l'^ f^^'^ JESUS, THE CHRIST.

sentence of Jesus does not change the emphasis of

condenmation, but its relative distribution.
Throughout this scene of reproach, and the follow-
ing passages of conflict with the cold and selfish re-

ligionists, the character of Jesus assumes a new ap-

pearance. It loses nothing of benevolence, but it

reveals how terrible benevolence may become when

arrayed against evil. The guilt of sin is that it

destroys happiness in its very sources. Regarding

the law of right as the law of happiness, the viola-
tion of right is the destruction of happiness. A dis-

position of disobedience is malign. It reaches out

against universal well-being. Divine benevolence, as
a part of the very exercise of kindness, sternly re-

sistsevery active malign tendency. In a pure soul,

indignation at evil is not an alternative or mere ac-
companiment of benevolence, but is benevolence itself
acting for the preservation of happiness. It seems
impossible that one should be good, and not abhor
that which destroys goodness.
In all the reproofs of Jesus there is an exaltation
and calmness which renders them more terrible than if
they were an outburst of sudden passion. It is not
angered ambition, but repulsed kindness, that speaks.
There is sadness in the severity. The very denun-
ciations seem to mourn.
After his distress had given itself voice in those
severe words, he seems to have let go the trouble, and
to have arisen in prayer to the bosom of his God. The
o;loom is breakinjic '•
He sees an infinite wisdom in that

love which hides from the proud and vain the inef!a))le
truths of religion, and which reveals them to the humble
and the heart-broken. The vision of God brings peace
 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 381

to him. He turns again to the people, every cloud

gone from his face and the sternness from his words.
Full of pity and of tenderness, in sentences that have
in them the charm of music, he invites the troubled
and unhappy around him to that rest of the heart
which will keep in perfect peace him whose soul is
stayed on God :
—
Come unto mc, all ije that labor and are heavtj laden, and
I will give you red. Take my yoke upon you, and learn

of me; for I am meek and loivly in heart : and ye shall

find red inito your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my

burden is light.

John's message of doubt and wavering came to Jesus

while he was in full conflict with the emissaries from
Jerusalem, who were sowing distrust, and who, as we
shall see, had even stirred up his own fimily connec-
tions against him. The whole tone of Jesus's reply,
the progression of thought, is that of one thoroughly
aroused and indignant at the exhibitions of moral
meanness around him. His words were warrior words.
Though in prison, saddened, and about to perish, John
was gently but faithfully rcl)uked. " Blessed is he,
whosoever shall not be offended in me." If even
John wjis culpable, how much more the malignant
enemies around him Still more the cities which had
!

been the focal points of his ministration Thuii step !

by step bis soul manifests its noble rejuignance to evil,

till it bi'eaks forth in prayer before (Jod, and returns,
full of pity and of yearning, to beseech once more the
lil)eity of doing good to ungrateful enemies. Noth-
inij can iustifv tbe roval tone of Jesus in this wbole
scene but the leality of his Divinity- That a man
should make himself the Ibuntain of cleansing in-
382 iliJ-^ Lll^J'^ OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

fluence, and summon all his fellows to be healed by

his spirit, would exhibit an arrogance of pride which
to their minds could be palliated only on the supposi-
tion of insanity.
His family connections do not seem to have been
greatly in sympathy with Jesus at any time. We
know that at a much later period his brethren reject-
ed his claims of Messiahshij). Of course they must
have watched his career, and listened to all that was
said of him by those to whom they had been ac-
customed to look for right opinions in matters of re-
ligion. The increased activity of Jesus, the resolute
front which he opposed to the constituted teachers of
his people, the increasing opposition which he stirred
up, the visible effect of all this upon his own spirit,
the loftiness both of carriage and of language with
which he confronted his opponents, together with his
frequent retirements and liis deep reveries, suggested
to his friends the notion of insanity. Without doubt
this was at first a hinted criticism, a shaking of the
head and a whispering of one with another.
His life must have seemed strange, if they looked
upon Jesus without faith in his Divine mission, or sym-
patliy with it, and applied to him such practical rules
as regulated their own conduct. The intensity of his
spirit, the apparent restlessness which compelled him

to go throughout every village and city, " preaching

and showing the glad tidings of the kingdom of God,"
must have seemed imaccoun table. Then, his company
was extraordinary. His twelve disciples were now his
constant attendants. But besides these a singular
band of women went with him, and largely provided
for his support. First mentioned is Mary Magdalene,
 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 383

who, whatever doubts may rest upon her history or

the origin of her name, dung to Jesus with a fidehty
that could not be surpassed, an affection which seems
to have grown more earnest and fearless with dan-
ger, and which, during his crucifixion and after his
burial, places her even before his own mother in in-
tensity of self-devotion. Joanna, the wife of Herod's
steward, was another ; and Susanna, whose name only
remains to us, was also conspicuous. But it is said
by Luke that there were "many others." He also
states that " they ministered to him of their sub-
stance." This was an extraordinary procession for a
teacher to make. His kindred felt that they had a
right to interfere, was not long before they
and it

had the opportunity. Indeed, there seem to have

been two separate efforts to withdraw him to the
privacy of his home, —
or, rather, two stages of the

one search and attempted interference. On one oc-

casion the enthusiasm of the people rose to an uncon-
trollable height. Jesus appears to have been utterly
swallowed up by the crowd. He and his disciples
" could not so much as eat bread." Then it was that
his friends, when they heard of it, " went out to lay
hands upon him for they said, He is beside himself"
;

But the work went on. The Pharisees beheld his

glowing power with the people, especially after his
mastery of a case of demoniacal possession of a pecu-
liarly malignant and obstinate character. The easy res-
toiatioii of the victim fillcil the multitude, even though
they had almost grown familiar with his mirack's of
mercy, with wonder and amazement. They cried out
in spontaneous enthusiasm, "Is not this the son of
David?" By that title was the long-desired Messiah
 ! ! !

384 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

familiarly known. This homage of the people stirred

the Scribes. Taking hint from the impression of his
friends that he was insane, they added to the charge
that it was an insanity of demoniacal possession
That he cast out demons could not be denied but ;

they said that did not argue his Divinity, for he was
himself a dupe or an accomplice, working under the
poAver conferred by Satan in short, a magician, a nec-
;

romancer, one who had made a league with the devil

The emissaries from Jerusalem and their confeder-
ates in Galilee were blind to all the excellences of
Jesus. If he was to thrive outside of their party, and
raiseup an influence antagonistic to it, then, the better
he was, the more dangerous to them. How unscrupu-
lous and malignant their conversation became is re-
vealed by the epithets employed he was a drunkard
:
;

he was a glutton he was a companion of knaves

;

and courtesans he was a sabbath-breaker, a blas-

;

phemer, a charlatan, a necromancer, an unclean fel-

low. (Mark iii. 30.) His power could not be gain-
said but its moral significance might be blurred,
;

nay, it might be made to witness against him, if

they could persuade the people that the devil sent

him among them, and that imder the guise of kind-
ness he was really weaving infernal snares for their
easy credulity
The reply of Jesus to this last aspersion was con-
clusive, judged from their point of view.
if " You

believe that Satan is carrying forward his work by me.

Would he begin, then, by acting against himself?
Will Beelzebub cast out Beelzebub? Satan fight
Satan ? Is not this a house divided against itself, and

sure to fall ? But why charge me with acting from

 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 385

infernal power, when you believe that evil spirits are

cast out by your own disciples and by lawful methods ?
When your pupils employ the exorcisms which you
prescribe, and men are relieved, do you admit that it
was the devil that wrought with them ? On the con-
trary, you believe it to be a Divine power that helps
your children. Their example condemns your argu-
ments against me."
If the carefulness of the Lord's reply seems strange,
it is only because the exceeding gravity and danger-
ousness of this attack upon him is not appreciated.
Beelzebub was a heathen god, and to charge Jesus
with acting as his emissary was to suggest the most
insidious form of idolatry. To the common people
Jesus was the very model of a Jew. He revived and
represented the heroic national character. His whole
career appealed to the patriotic element. His use of
their Scriptures, his teaching in their synagogues, his
conformity to all Jewish rites and usages in worship,
the historical basis of his teachings, and the very at-

tempt to bring back the old Jewish life by reforming

the abuses of the school of the Pharisee, all gave to
him a high repute with the common people as, a rep-

resentative national man with the stamp of the old

propliets.
If his enemies could destroy this impression, and
excite a suspicion that, after all, he was in sympathy
with foreign nations and was really an emissary of an
idolatrous system, they would easily destroy his in-

fluence. For on no other point was the Jewish mind

so inflammable as against idolatrous foreign influences.
Beel/.cbub was (he chief of foreign heathen deities.
To charge Jesus with acting under his inspiration was
386 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

an appeal to the national fanaticism. The vigor of

Christ's reply manifests his sense of the danger of
such an imputation, and explains also the solemn and
judicial severity with which he immediately turned
upon his assailants. For the lines were drawn. All
hope of accommodation was past. Between him and
the Pharisees the gulf had been opened that could never
be closed. Hitherto he had entered into controversy
with them as a Rabbi would dispute with any one in
his school who dissented from his teaching. In his
Sermon on the Mount he had clearly taken ground
against the whole ethics and religious philosophy of
this school. But now the hour had come when he
distinctly assailed them as a corrupt party. There
could be no more friendliness between them. No one
could be on both sides, or be indifferent. All must
choose. Pointing to his antagonists, he declared, " He
that is not with me is against me. He that gathereth
not with me scattereth abroad." He now asserts his
Divinity as he had never done before, not by assum-
ing to himself Divine titles, but by identifying their
resistance to him as a direct and conscious resistance
to the Holy Ghost.
The scene at this point is extraordinary. Jesus had
hitherto stood upon the defensive. But there was
something in the spirit of his antagonists which roused
in him the latent royalty to a most august disclosure.
He no longer explains or defends. He brings home to
the conspiring Pharisees the terrible charge of blas-
phemy. He expressly excludes the idea that this was
done simply because they had opposed him. WJmso-
ever sijeaketh a tvord acjaimt tlie Son of 3fan, it shall he for-

given him. Jesus accepted his place among men, and

 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 387

did not demand any exemption from the criticisms

and arguments with which men contested all the phi-
losophies or religious teachings of the Rabbis. He did
not hold his antagonists guilty because they had op-
posed his claims or his doctrines. It was their own
highest nature, in its state of Divine illumination, that
they had deliberately violated. His Avorks and his
expositions had not failed ; there was among these
men an hour of full conviction that this work and
this doctrine was of God. But pride and malign sel-

fishness rose up against the light. For the sake of

sinister interests, they dishonored the noblest intu-
itions of their souls.
There are hours in which men are lifted out of the
dominion of sensuous fact, and come up into the full

blaze of spiritual truths. They are consciously in the

very presence of God. The Divine influence is so per-
sonal and pervasive, that in their own consciousness
they think, feel, and will, as it were, face to fjice with
God. These are the hours of the soul's sovereignty,
and its choices are final, since they are made when
every advantage is concentrated upon them. If they
are right, they are eternally right if wrong, they are ;

wrong forever.
In supreme mood the Pharisees had not only
sucli a

dishonored own luminous convictions of the

their
truth, but, transported with the anger of mortified
vanity, had poiued contempt and ridicule upon them.
The sentence of Mark is very significant, " Because —
they said, lie '':'<'' "^i fnickan spirit." What unck'an
spirit was meant, is shown hy Matthew: "Tiiis fellow
doth not cast out devils but by 15eelzebub." Beelze-
bub was to the Jews tbe lieatlien god ol' nastiness,
 388 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

god of the dunghill, of universal excrement ^ The !

vulgarity of the abuse must be left to the imagi-

nation.
Affairs had reached a crisis. It is well, therefore, at
this point, to look somewhat closely into the precise
relations subsisting between the party of the Temple,
the common people, and Jesus.
The Scribes and Pharisees were neither better nor
worse than men usually are who hold power in their
hands, and are determined, at all hazards, to main-
tain it. If Jesus could have been made to work un-
der their general direction, and so to contribute to the
stability of the Templewould have influence, they
suffered him to utter almost any sentiment, and to
execute rigorous popular reformations. Every word
and every act was scrutinized from one point of view,
— its relations to the influence of the dominant
school.
In the progressive conflict with Jesus, which ended
with his death, the Scribes acted w^ithin the familiar

' See Smith's Bible Dictionary (American edition, Hurd and Houghton),
Art. " Beelzel)ul."
Moreover, on this point Professor Conant writes :
" To the heathen
themselves Beelzebub was not the '
god of nastiness,' but a very respectable
sort of a divinity, with an honorable vocation, according to their notions.
''
Beelzebuh (3-131 "^i'S), ^vith final h, occurs only once, in 2 Kings i. 2,

as a god of the Philistines at Ekron, to whom Ahaziah sent messengers to

inquire Avhether he should recover from his disease. He was then, it seems,
a god of good repute even in Israel. • •

" From the etymology, Gesenius explains the name as \/ly-Baal, fly-

destroyer, like the Zfvy 'Anofivios of Elis, .... and the Mijlagrus deus of
the Romans.' Fiirst, under 30?, compares the 'epithets of Hercules,
inoKTovos (vermin-killer) and Kopvorrioiv (locust-killer).'
The Jews, with
'•
their propensity to sarcastic punning, pronounced the
name Beehehul (S.^I Sj^S), 'god of the dunghill,' dunghill-god.
" There can be no reasonable doubt that the view you give in the text
is the true one."
 THE BEG/NNING OF CONFLICT. 389

sphere of ordinary political immorality. They were not

monsters, but simply unscrupulous politicians. At first
they contented themselves with observing Jesus, and
would evidently have been willing to conciliate, had a
chance been given them. They then followed him,
watching for some mistake which would bring down on
him the grasp of a jealous foreign government. This
was by far the most politic method of dealing with
him. A dangerous man would thus be removed by an
odious foreign despotism, without prejudice to the Jew-
ish rulers. But Jesus was fullj^ conscious of this peril.
So cautious was he in discourse, that from the records
of his teachino; one would scarcelv know that there
was an intrusive government in Palestine. He used
his authority to keep down popular excitement; and
when the enthusiasm could not be controlled, he
frequently withdrew from sight, and sometimes hid
himself absolutelj'.The Avisdom of his course was
justified.The Roman officials, after a while, seem to
have dismissed his movements from their thoughts;
and even at the crisis of his death they appear to
have cared but little for the matter, and to have
been pushed on by the resolute fury of the Jewish
leaders.
If the Temple party could not check the career of
Jesus by direct political interference, the next obvi-
ous step of policy woidd l)e to embroil him with his

own countrymen. This would seem not dillicult. Tlie

Jewish people were iiioidinatcly sensitive to secta-
ri;m niid national prejudices. It seemed likely tliat

a I)ol(l reformer like Jesus would first or last strike

some blow that would rouse u[) the whole wrath of
a bigoted peo])le, and that he would be sacrificed in
 —

390 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

some popular tiimnlt. This line of policy was skil-

fully followed by them. It was not wise to shock

the enthusiasm of the people, or to stand cold and
unmoved amid so much popular feeling. It was
better to go with the crowd as friends, but as con-
servative friends. They listened, but in a gentle and
respectful way sought to entangle him in his teach-
ings. The ill success of this course little by little

increased their zeal. But they were politic. They

could not break with Jesus so long as the mass of
the people were with him. They therefore still main-
tained outward amicable relations, but watched and
waited, wdiispering, suggesting, criticising; — yet all

in vain. The current would not be turned by these

puffs of wind that ran across its surface.
Jesus seems to have been perfectly aware of all
this, and of the dangers which threatened. His tran-
quil avoidance of their snares disclosed how skilfid
may be the highest moral endowments. It was diffi-

cult to oppose the whole religious teaching of his

times without appearing to set aside the Jewish faith,
and bringing upon himself the charge of infidelity,
always a fiicile and effective weapon. It was diffi-
cult to resist the authority of the representative men
of his nation, without violating the fanatical sense of
patriotism among the people. The consciousness of
such peril would render a weak nature cautious, would
limit his sphere of remark, and enfeeble his criti-
cisms of evil. Nothino; is more strikinfi; than the
attitude of Jesus in the face of this danger. His
teachings did not flag. His words became more pow-
erful. The sphere of topics every day enlarged. Like
a skilful surgeon, confident of his hand, he plmiged
 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 391

the probe down, amid nerves and arteries, with un-

failing and unsj^aring fidelity. At times his adver-
saries could not forbear admiration of his tact and
skill. He never struck wrong, nor ever missed a
stroke. They beheld him every day less in peril of
the court, less likely to lose his hold upon the com-
mon people, and more clearly endangering their own
" name and place."
It was at this point of affairs that the cry was first

heard, Is not this the son of David? By that phrase

was meant Messiahship The spark had fallen. The
!

fire was kindled. The Scribes seemed thrown off

their guard by the extremity of danger. Then it
was, as we have seen, that they blindly charged him
with being a minion of infernal influences, the evil
victim of a foreign god of filthy and detestable attri-
butes. And it was to this open declaration of Avar
that Jesus opposed as openly the terrific denuncia-
tions which consigned them to a doom not to be
reversed in this world nor in the world to come.
The Scribes at once saw their blunder. They had
not carried the people with them. They had aroused
in Jesus a spirit of sovereignty before which they
quailed. They had thrown the javelin, but it had
missed, and they stood disarmed.
The}' then attempted to recover their ])osition. It
is fjuite likely tliat the Scril)es, who had led llie onset,
gave place to others, who put on a face of kindness as a
mask to their real feelings. They came to him with an
afiectatioH of reasonableness and of devotion: Mas- —
ter, we wish tliat we might only see a sign Irom thee.

He was not to be deceived by this sudck'ii coniplai-

SJince. With even increasing eh'vation of spirit and
 ;:

392 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE fffR/ST.

of manner he denounced them an "evil and adul-

as
terous generation." No sign should be wrought for
their purposes. But a sign thej^ should have. What
Jonah was to Nineveh, that should the Son of Man
be to Jerusalem. So far from softening his words or
abating his authority he takes a bolder step, and de-
clares himself superior to Jonah, an eminent prophet,
and to Solomon, the most renowned philosopher and
the most brilliant king of the Hebrew race. That
such arrogation of rank did not offend the people is

a testimony to the hold which Jesus had gained up-

on their veneration.
This plausible attempt of the Pharisees to return to
amicable relations with him did not for a moment im-
pose upon Jesus. He signified his judgment of the
value of their mood by a parable, which, however, did
not expend its force upon them, but, after the method of
the prophecies, had a kind of moral ricochet and struck
successive periods. Their pretended reformations were
but a getting ready for renewed wickedness.
When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he vmllceth

through dry places, seeking rest, and findeth none. Then he

saith, I ivill return into my Imiise from ivhence I came out
and when he is come, he findeth it empty, swept, and garnished.
Then gocth he, and taketh with himself seven other spirits
more wicked than himself, and they enter in and dwell there
and the last state of that man is 2vorse than the first. Even
so sJmll it be also irnto this wicked generation.
In his adversaries, the discourses of Jesus produced
anger, and at times rage. The people generally felt

admiration and enthusiasm for them, some being ca-

pable of appreciating their spiritual excellence and
entering profoundly into sympathy with him. Thus,
 THE BEGINNING OF CONFUCT. 393

while he was unfolding the truth, a woman in the

crowd, quite borne away by the admirableness of
his teaching, cried out with a true mother's feeling,
" Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the paps
which thou hast sucked " This was the very pride of
!

motherhood breaking into rapture of worship. It is

not likely that she knew Mary. There certainly is
no unconscious blessing pronounced upon the Virgin
Mother it was upon Cln^ist that her heart rested.
;

She struck an unimagined chord in the heart of Jesus.

There is sadness in his reply. Yea, rather, blessed are they
that hear the tvord of God, and keep it. And reason there
was for this sadness. At that very moment his mother,
with other members of the family, were hovering on
the outskirts of the excessive crowd, seeking him. By
Mark (iii. 20, 21, 31-35) we see what her errand was.
Driven by maternal solicitude, she had become more
anxious for his personal safety than for the develop-
ment of the kingdom of heaven. Her love for him as
her own son was stronger than her love for him as the
Son of God. She might not have believed that he was
"beside himself;" she mig-ht naturallv have felt that
by excessive zeal he was putting his life in peril. Fol-
lowing in the wake of the crowd, she would gather up
into her anxious heart all the angry speeches and
significant threats of his enemies. Why should we
imagine that Mary was made perfect without sufVeriug,
without mistakes, without that training which every
one of the disciples passed througli, and without need
of those tender rebukes IVoiii the Master which all
experienced ? If even the luifhuchiug and sturdy
John faltered. v;y\\ we wonder tiiat a uiother should
dread the stoiiu whicli she saw gathering around her
l)el(»ve(l son V
394 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE ClllllST.

was while the cry of sympathy from a nameless

It
woman in the crowd was in his ear, that word was
brought to Jesus, " Behold thy mother and thy brethren
stand without, desiring to speak with thee." This is

the sequel of that previous statement, " When his

friends (kinsmen) heard of it, they went out to lay

hold of hira ; for they said, He is beside himself"
Were it would be hard to
not for this history, it

redeem the reply of Jesus to the messenger of his

mother from the imputation of severity, bordering on
harshness. Who is my mother ? and tvho are my brethren ?
Is this the language of a child's love, in whose ear his
mother's name is music ? Is this the honored recep-
tion, before all the people, which a mother had a right

to expect from such a son ?

Then it was that he seems to have drawn himself up
and looked round upon the crowd with an eye of love
veiled by sorrow. There must have been something
striking in his manner of speaking, that should lead
the Evangelists always to describe his personal ap-
pearance in that act. They were not anatomists, nor
close students of details they mentioned that which
;

struck them was not a glance, a flash, but

forcibly. It
a long and piercing gaze " he looked round about on
:

them which sat about him " and then, stretching ;

forth his hand toward his disciples, he said, " Behold

my mother and my brethren Whosoever shall do !

the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same

is my brother, and my sister, and my mother "
^ !

' President Woolsey, of Yale College, holds the following language :

—
" However we explain Mary's participation in the design of her kinsmen,
she is included in what is a virtual censure on the part of our Lord. He
neither goes out to meet her and her companions, nor ailmits them into his
presence. He exclaims that his nearest of kin are the children of God,
 THE BFJUNNING OF CONFLICT. 395

While this was unquestionably a rebuke to his

mother and brethren for want of moral sympathy with
him, it presents an admirable illustration of the way
in which Jesus looked upon all the social relationships
of life. As much in domestic as in religious matters
the exterior is but the veil, the interior is the sub-
stance and reality. made up by As manhood is not
the members of the body, but by the soul, so re-
lationship is not simply by blood, but by affinities of
character. The household which is grouped around
natural parents, with all its blessedness, does not limit
within itself one's real kindred. All that are good
belong to each other. All, in every nation, who call

God Father, have a right to call each other brother,

sister, mother ! Thus around the visible home there
extends an invisible household of the heart, and men
of fiiith and aspiration are rich in noble relationships.
This scene between Jesus and his mother was a
mere episode in the sharp conflict which, under one
form and another, was going on between Jesus and the
emissaries from the Temple, together with their con-
federates in the provinces. But it was not all an open
conllict. It would seem as if, while some plied him
with opposition, others tried the arts of kindness, and
the seductions of hospitality. For these invitations

and asks, *
WIjo is my luotlier and my hnthron ? ' It is tlms ivinarkal)Ii'
tliaf ill tliu only two instanci-s, until the crucifixion, where Mary figires in
the Gospel, — the marriage at Cana and the passage before us, — she aj)-

pcars in order to be reproved by the Saviour, and to be phiced, as far as

the mere maternal relation is concerned, below obedient servants of Oo<l.
These must \w regarded as protests laid up in store against the
f)assages
heathenish eminence which tiie Roman Ciuirch assigns to Mary, ami espe-
cially against that newly establisheil dogma, of hiT bi-ing without sin from
her liirth, which they so signally contradict." — RcUijwn of the J'resettt ami
uj the Future, p. 4G. New York : Charles Scribiier vt Co. 1871.
396 THE TJFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

which brought him to feasts in the houses of dis-

tinguished Pharisees, as the whole carriage of Jesus
showed, were not always acts of simple kindness. No
doubt they were inspired to some extent by curiosity,
mingled with vanity at having possession of one
who was whole community.
stirring the But they
evidently had in them
also an element of seduction.
He might be flattered by attentions. He might be
softened by social blandishments. He might, in the
(confidence of honorable hospitality, be thrown off his
guard and led to incautious speeches, by which after-
wards he might be entangled.
Soon after this interview with his mother, a Pharisee
urged him to dine. No sooner had they sat down
than the latent design of this hospitality began to
appear. Jesus had neglected to wash his hands offi-

cially, after the custom of the strict among the Jews,

and he was at once questioned about it. It seems that
there was present a large company of lawyers and
doctors of the law, and that all w^ere sharpened for
conflict, and this will sufficiently account for the
character of the most extraordinary after-dinner speech
that was ever recorded. Jesus was not for a moment
deceived by their pretensions and formal courtesies.
He knew what their politeness meant. He replied to
the inward reality, and not to the outward seeming.
It was a fearful analysis and exposure of the hollow-

heartedness of the men who were seeking his downfall.

The manner of this speech seems to have been thus :

One after another would question him, and upon his

replies still other criticisms Avould be made, followed
again by taunts and contemptuous questions. Luke
gives us an insight into the method and spirit of this
 THE BEGINNING OF CONFLICT. 397

remarkable dialogue :
" As he said these things unto
them, the Scribes and the Pharisees began to urge him
vehem.ently, and to provoke him to speak of many
things ; laying wait for him, and seeking to catch
something out of liis mouth, that they might accuse
him." The speech as given in the text may be regard-
ed as a condensed record of the substance of liis

replies, the interpolated questions and disputatious

passages being left out. It is this interlocutory char-
acter of the Lord's discourses, both here and elsewhere,
that must supply us with a clew to the succession of
topics, which otherwise will seem forced.
And the Lord said unto hiniy Now do jjc Pharisees make
clean the outside of the ciqo and the platter ; hut your inivard
part is fxdl of ravening and tvicJcedness. Ye fools, did not
he that made that tvhich is tvithoid make that ivhich is tvithin

also ? But rathe?' give alms of such things as ye have; and,

behold, all things are clean unto you. But ivoe unto you,
Phansees ! for ye tithe mint and rue and all manner of
herbs, and pass over judgment and the love of God : these

ouglit ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone. Woe
unto you, Pharisees ! for ye love the ujtpermost scats' in the

synagogues, and greetings in the markets. Woe unto you.

Scribes and Pharisees, hypocntes ! for ye are as graves ivhich

appear not, and the men that ivalk over them are not airare
of them. Then ansivered one of the lawyers, and said unto
him, blaster, thus saying thou reproachest us also. And he
said, Woe unto you aho, ye lawyers ! for ye bale men with
burdemt grievous to be borne, and yc yourselves t<nuJi w>l Ihr
burdens with one of yoiir Jingcrs. Woe niito yon ! for yc
hnitit tlw scpnirhres if the prophets, (uul your fifhrrs killed

them. 'D'uly ye bear witnc'^s that ye atbnr the deeds if your

fathers : for they indeed killed them, and ye build their aejad-
398 '^'^E LIFE OF JESUS, THE CIIIUST.

chres. Therefore also said the msdom of God, I ivill send

them prophets and apostles, and some of them they shall sla?j

and persecute : that the blood of all the prop>hets, tchich was
shed from the foundation of the tvorld, may he required of
this generation, from the blood of Abel unto the blood of
Zacharias, ivhich perished betiveen the altar, and the temple :

verily I say unto you, It shall be required of this generation.

Woe unto you, lawyers ! for ye have taken aivay the key of

knowledge : ye entered not in yourselves, and them that were

erdering in ye hindered.

The kindled flame was to be nourished by new

fuel every day. The courage and boldness of Jesus
were equalled only by the bitterness and cunning of
the Scribes. He knew the issue. " I am come to send
fire on the earth, and what will I, if it be already

kindled?"
 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 399

CHAPTER XVII.

AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE.

The discourses of Jesus grew deeper and richer

from the beginning of his ministry to the end. But
the transitions were never formal or abrupt. Nor can
we anywhere lay our finger upon a precise moment or
occasion when the deepening or widening took place.
His teaching was like the flow of a river, whose depth
and breadth continually increase, but nowhere sud-
denly. From the first he had preached the kingdom of
heaven, but at this time he seems to have made that
theme the special subject of discourse. Indeed, just
before he sent out his twelve disciples to teach, there
was a crisis in his ministry and a change in his style
which proceeded from profound reasons that deserve
careful consideration.
Whatever spiritual had been derived by
benefit
single persons from his ministry, it was plain that in
general his teaching liad fallen only upon the outward
ear, and that his benelicent works had stirred up the
worldly side of men more than the spiritual. They
were glad to have their sicknes.ses healed, to know
that the kingdom of heaven (interpreted according
(() .K'wish cxpcclations) \v;is ;i(l\ ancing. Ilis family
friendswere plying him with prudential (M)n.si(U'rations.
His adversai'ics were organizing a ])owerfnl, though
as yet cautious and crafty, oj)[)osition. He stood in
400 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

an excited circle of worldly men and whether they

;

were for him or against him, they were for the most
part seeking a material and secnlar interest. It was
important that he should, if possible, break through
this carnal view, and kindle in their minds some idea
of that spiritual kingdom which he sought to establish.
On no other subject did he concentrate so many
parables as upon this. Eight of them in succession,
and apparently at about the same time, evince his
earnestness, and his estimate of the importance of the
topic. The Sower, the Tares, the GroAvth of Seed, the
Grain of Mustard-seed, the Leaven, the Treasure-field,
the Pearl, the Net, — each one of these expounded
some view of his kingdom. In reading them, one is
struck with the wholly spiritual and unworldly charac-
ter of that kingdom. There is no intimation of a so-
ciety or of organization.
These parables are evidently the fragments of dis-
course. The disciples remembered and recorded them
as and striking pictures; but it is not likely
brief
that Jesus put them forth one after the other, without
any filling up or exposition. We know, in regard
to some, that they were parts of interlocutory dis-
course, and that they gave rise to questions and to an-
swers. It is highly probable that all of them were
preceded and followed by expository matter, on which
the parables were wrought like the figures upon lace.
The sudden addiction of Christ to parables is the sign
of a serious change in his relations to that part of the
people who were now secretly banding together in
opposition to his influence. We
have already seen the
feeling which this conduct produced in his bosom.
Although his personal relations were apparently not
 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 401

and he moved among the Pharisees as he had

affected,
always done, he regarded portions of them as being
so dangerous that it was prudent to forestall their
efforts to catch something out of his mouth, that thcjj migM
accuse him.
A parable — or a moral truth thrown into the form
of an imaginary history, a germ drama
was pecu- —
liarly fitted for the which in his hands it
double office

had to perform. It was an instructive form of sjieech,

addressing the imagination, and clinging tenaciously to
the memory. was admirably suited to the intelli-
It

gence of the common people. It had also this advan-

tage, that throughout the East it was a familiar style
of instruction, and the people were both used to it and
fond of it. On the other hand, its polemic advantages
were eminent. By parables Jesus could advance his
views with the utmost boldness, and yet give to his
enemies but little chance of perverting his words. It
was necessary to baflle iJieir devices, without restrict-
ing the scope of his teaching or abating his activity.
We
have already glanced at the methods by which
the Scribes sought an end to this reformer, as soon
as they became satisfied that he could not be used
as a tool for their own advantage. The topic will
bear unfolding still further. They first attempted to
excite against liim llie fears of the government, and
to cause his arrest as one politically dangerous. This
would seem beforehand to promise the surest and
s|)('(Mli('st rcsulls. Herod was sus[)icious, jealous of
liis })o\vei", and eiiiel in xindicating it. The great
excitement wliich kindhMl aroinid .lesus, and the ex-
cessive tlirongs which followecl gave ('oU)r to
Iiini,

unfavorable representations. Tlie general conduct of

26
402 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

Jesus must have been very circumspect. Indeed, we

are struck, not only with the absence of pohtical
topics from his teachings, but with the unworldly
treatment of common secular duties. M/j kingdom is

not of this ivorld was as plainly indicated by the Ser-

mon on the Mount as by his final declaration. Poli-
ticians were shrewd enough to see that Jesus had
no purpose of publicly or secret!}^ organizing the peo-
ple. Every political party has one or two sensitive
tests. If a man is sound or harmless in respect to
them, he is regarded as safe. In ecclesiastical admin-
istration these tests are apt to be doctrinal or ritual.

In political management they are more likely to re-

late to practical policy. Judged by jDolitical tests, it

must have seemed to disinterested spectators that Jesus

was simply a very benevolent man, with great power
of personal fascination, who indulged in impracticable
dreams of an ideal future that he neglected the
;

most admirable opportunities. for forming a party, and

squandered his influence for lack of organization.
The people again and again came at his call, but dis-
solved and sunk away without bringing to him any
advantage. His doctrine passed over the surfoce of
society as the shadows of white clouds high up in the
heavens pass over fields and forests, making transient
pictures, but changing nothing in root, leaf, or fruit.

There was far less to fear in such a man than in the

narrower, but more immediately John the
practical,

Baptist. Besides, it may be presumed that there were

in Herod's household friends of Jesus, who had the
ear of the king or of his advisers. We know that the
wife of Herod's steward was a devoted friend to the
prophet of Galilee. The fate of men and of policies
 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 403

often depends upon the soft whisper, m an hour of lei-

sure, ofone whom the public neither sees nor knows,
whose very obscurity lends to his influence by disarm-
ing jealousy or the fear of selfish counsel.
Political influences failing, the next obvious method
of destroying Jesus would be to embroil him with
the people. The Pharisees, representing the patri-
otic feeling of the nation, were very popular with
the masses. The people were apt upon the slightest
provocation to burst out into uncontrollable fanati-
cism. How would be to sweep away this man
easy it

of Nazareth in some wild outbreak But Jesus, a !

man of the connnon people, living day by day among

them, familiar with all their prejudices, their thoughts,
their wants, and ministering to their necessities by
almost daily acts of beneficence, could not easily be
withdraAvn from the sympathies of the poor. The
crowds of grateful creatures that surrounded him
might be ignorant of his real doctrines, and take little
profit from his spirit ; but they proved a stronger l)ar-

rier between him and his enemies of the syna^-otjcne

and the Temple than an imperial army would have
been. They were unconsciously his body-guard.
The only other method of putting Jesus out of the
\v;iywas by the exercise of the ])ower of discipline
in thehands of the Jewish Sanhedrim. But a trial for
heresy required material. It was not easy to procure
it. Jesus wjis in disMgreeincnf witli the religious
leaders of his ])c()|th'. but he was Iiistoricnlly in accord
witli Moses and the I'rojtliets. lie was really more
ortiiodox than the Jiabbis.
It was lor the sake ol" bringing iiini to trial before
the religious tribunal of his people for some form of
404 '^'iil'^ f-ll^E OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

error, was now watched with indefatigable

that he
vio'ihmce and the ehanfi:e in his method of teaching::
;

may be attributed greatly to that. For a marked

change took place in the style of his teaching soon
after the calling and sending forth of his disciples.
In expounding to them the parable of the Sower, as we
shall see, Jesus expressly gave as a reason for using
the parabolic form in teaching, that would baffle his
it

enemies. It would convey the truth and yet, as the ;

vehicle was a fiction, his adversaries would be unable

to catch him in his words. There is no instance in
which his parables were alleged as an offence. The
Pharisees knew at whom they were aimed yet so ;

wisely did Jesus frame them, that nothing contrary

to the law or to national customs could be made out
of them.
But the larger use of the parable in his teachings
is not the only change to be noticed at this period.
We shall find an impetus .to his discourses, an attack-
ing force, which shows that he designed to put his
adversaries on the defensive. Instead of watching
him, they found themselves impelled to study their
own defence. Many came as if conscious of great
superiority,and as pompous patrons. But they were
handled as if they were very poorly instructed pupils.
These considerations of the state of the conflict will
not only illustrate the general prudence of Jesus's
course, but will give significance to many incidents
which otherwise would lose their real bearings.
It was in the face and under the influence of this
crafty conspiracy against him that he pronounced the
words recorded by Luke, which not only informed
them explicitly that he divined their plans, but in-
 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE 405

structed his disciples that both they and their master

were under the care of a Divine Providence which
watches over the minutest elements of creation. Con-
sidered as the utterance of one standing' amidst shrewd
and venomous enendes, this tranquillizing and com-
forting spirit is truly divine.
" In the mean time, when there were gathered to-
gether an innumeraljle multitude of people, insomuch
that they trode one upon another, he l)egan to say unto
his disciples first of all, Beware ye of the leaven of the
Pharisees, which is hypocrisy. For there is nothing
covered that shall not be revealed ; neither hid, that
shall not be known. Therefore whatsoever ye have
spoken in darkness shall be heard in the light and that ;

wliich ye have spoken in the ear in closets shall be

proclaimed upon the house-tops. And I say unto you
my friends. Be not afraid of them that kill the body,
{ind after that have no more that they can do. But I

will forewarn you whom ye shall fear : Fear him whicb,

after he hath killed, hath power to cast into hell ;
yea,
I say unto you, Fear him. Are not five sparrows sold
for two fiirtliings? and not one of them is forgotten
before God : l)ut even the very hairs of your head
are all nund)ered. Fear not, therefore : ye are of more
value than many sparrows. Also I say unto you,
Whosoevei' slmll confess inc bcfoiH' uicii. biiu sball the
Son of Man also conlrss bcfoic the angels of Ood:
but he that denieth nie before men shall he denied
before the angels of (Jod. And whosoever shall s])eak

a woid aganist the Son ol" Man. shall he forgiNcu it

him; hut inito him that hlasphenieth against tin- Holy

Gliost, it shall not be forgiven. And when they bring
you unto the synagogues, and unto uiagistiates and
406 'J'HE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CIIRTST.

powers, take ye no thought how what thing ye

or
shall answer, or what ye shall lor the Holy
say :

Ghost shall teach you m the same liour what ye

ought to say."
An mcident occurred about this time which deserves
more than a passing notice. A young man appealed
to Jesus against his brother, in the matter of dividing
some property that had been left to them. " Master,

speak to my brother that he divide the inheritance

with me." One who was smarting under a wrong
would naturally appeal to a great teacher of morals
for advice and influence. The reply of Jesus surprises
us by an apparent severity for which at first we can-
not account, —
" Man, who made me a judge or a
divider over you?" But if the cunning Scribes had
whispered this young man on, hoping to induce Jesus
through his sympathies to assume judicial functions
and to step into a snare, we can understand that the
severity of his abrupt refusal was meant more for the
Pharisees than for their dupe. Yet, though he could
not assume the authority of courts and distribute prop-
erty, he could fasten the attention upon the most lofty
views respecting the ends of life. Beware of covetous-

ness : for a maiis life coihsiMefh not in the abundance of the

things which he possesscth. One ma}' be happy in riches;
l)ut there is a higher enjoyment than any which wealth
can bestow. This view was not left as a mere apo-
thegm. He framed it into a picture which no one
could ever forget. For the memory of things received
ihiough the imagination is ineradicable.
In a dozen lines he gives a perfect drama. Avarice,
made good-natured by ]u"osperity, counsels with itself
and fiUs the future with visions of self-indulgence.
 ! :

AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 407

Then from out the great realm above comes a voice

pronouncing eternal bankruptcy to the presumptuous
dreamer
" And he spake a parable unto them, saying, The
ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully
and he thought within himself, saying. What shall I do,
because I have no room where to bestow my fruits?
And he said, This will I do I will pull down my barns,
:

and build greater and there will 1 bestow all my

;

fruits and my goods. And I will say to my soul. Soul,

thou hast much goods laid up for many years take ;

thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But God said

unto him, Tliou fool, this night thy soul shall be re-
quired of thee then whose shall those things be
:

which thou hast provided ? So is he that layeth up

treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God."
This is the contrast that evermore exists, in ten
thousand forms, between the visible and the invisi-
ble. Just beyond inordinate mirth lie gloom and
sadness. Through the tears of desponding sorrow
rises on the background beyond a tender rainbow.
When the sun is setting, the human form projects a
grotesque and monstrous shadow far along the ground ;

and so character casts forward a shadow into the future^

whether fail' or hideous, in })rodigious disproportion to
the seeming magnitude of the living reality.
The parables of Jesus, as we find them in the Gos'
pels, are like pearls cast into a jewel-case, witlior.t
order or selection. The tliread that connected tlieni

is lost. But we often lind an Inward congruity be-

tween the parable and the events just then hai)i)en-
ing, that creates a j)robability as to the order. Thus
the two parables respecting the inmiiueuce of death
408 TtlE LIFE OP JESUS, THE VUIUST.

would seem naturally to have followed the parable

of the rich fool. There are two; one in light, the
other in shadow. Could anything be more radiant
and original, contrasted with the frightful pagan ideas
of death, or with the dismal ideas of the primitive
Jewish nations, than the figure of Death as a bride-
groom returning from wedding festivities to his house-
hold? Yet, in exhorting his disciples to be in con-
stant preparation for the event of death, Jesus urges
them to be vigilant and cheerful watchers, " like unto
men that wait for their lord, when he will return from
the wedding." Their lord shall cause them to sit

down to a banquet, and he himself, in love, shall honor

and serve them. This watching must run through the
series of hours, whether he come in the second watch
or in the third watch. It is to be an all-night fidelity.

There is a fine vein of poetry in the implication that

this life is a night,and death the breaking of the
morning, the awaking from sleep. But the mention
of the night watches suggests a new illustration, and
the parable changes. It is a householder now, secure,
asleep, dreaming happily. But hovering near is the
artful thief He steals noiselessly to the window. He
enters without discovery and despoils the house of
treasure in the very face of its owner, too fast asleep
to know the mischief that is going on. When the
man awakes and discerns the state of things, no doubt
he will bestir himself But too late ! The thief is
^
gone, and with him the goods !

Peter now interposes a question as to whether the

parables referred to the disciples only, or also to the
whole multitude. The reply is not recorded ; but the
' Lukexii. 35-40.
 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 409

new parable which followed it indicates the nature

of the reply, — that he was speaking to all alike.
In a few words Jesus depicts the interior of some
princely household ; the master is absent, and not
soon expected home ; the ftxithless steward, assuming-
airs of superiority, betakes himself to inordinate fes-

tivities, and drunken revelling plays the petty

in his
tyrant, abusing the servants with words and blows.
In the midst of the shameful debauch, the master sud-
denly appears. In an instant all is changed. The
unfaithful servant is convicted, dispossessed, and cast
forth. There could be no doubt in Peter's mind
whether he spoke " to all " or not. By such a picture,
the materials of which were too abundant in that age
and country, Jesus would fix in the memory of a
curious crowd, subject to evanescent excitements, the
great danger of giving way to their passions in this
life without regard to that great After-Life, which,
though silent, is certain and near at hand, and whose
happiness depends upon the results of the moral edu-
cation evolved in this visible world.
The picture was not only likely to abide in the
memory, teaching its own lesson, but it was made to
carry with it whose trutiis lie
certain short sentences,
at the foundation of responsible moral government.
The servant that knew his lord's will, and did it not,
shall be beaten witli many stripes ; but he that knew
not, witii lew stripes. The severity of pnnislinieut is

to be graded by the dclilx ration witli which the law

of duty is broken. Under a government of physical
laws, the motive of the transgressor has no inllnence
upon the The ignorant and the intelligent,
])enalty.

those who disobey wilfnlly and those who do it un-

410 '^'ii^ LIFE OF JESUS, TUE CHRIST.

knowingly, suffer alike. But under a moral govern-

ment the penalty is graded according to the deliber-

ation and wilfulness with which disobedience takes

place. The very essence of moral government consists
in its administration, notby an implacable law, but by
an intelligent ruler, who can shape rewards and penal-
ties to the moral character of a subject's conduct. It
is plain that Jesus was s^^eaking of the future life, and
of the effect of men's conduct here upon their con-
dition hereafter. Indeed, we shall presently see that
in this respect he stood in extraordinary contrast to
the great teachers of the Old Testament dispensation,
who, whatever may have been their private hopes,
never derived motives or sanctions from the great
truth of an after life, but wholly from the relations of
conduct to this present existence. Jesus, on the con-
trary, scarcely noticing the effect of human actions on
men's secular welfare, almost invariably points to the
future world as the sphere in Avliich the nature and
consequences of men's actions will be disclosed.
The doctrine of immortality in a w^orld to come has
not in the teachings of Jesus the appearance of a
fresh philosophical theory or of a new truth, kindling
in him a constant and intensity.
surprise It seems

rather like unconscious knowledge. He speaks of

the great invisible world as if it had always lain be-
fore him, and as familiarly as to us stretches out the
landscape which we have seen since our birth. The
assertion of a future state is scarcely to be met with in
his teachings : the assumption of it pervades them.
This fiimiliarity with another world, and the calm
sense of its transcendent value over this life, must be
kept in mind if we would fully appreciate his instruc-
 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 411

tions. Men seemed to him as laborious triflers, toiling

for perishable things, and indifferent to things momen-
tous and eternal. That silent contrast between the
spiritual sphereand the world of matter seems never
to have been absent from
his mind. Out of this
atmosphere came parable, criticism, judgment, and
rebuke, and their force and spirit cannot be under-
stood unless we enter fully into this conception.

To one before whom dwelt the eternal calm and joy

of a higher life, how foolish must have seemed the
frivolous zeal, the intense absorption in trifles, the
thoroughly sensuous life, of the Pharisees ! Their
sacred heats were like a rash upon the skin. They
thought themselves superlatively wise. They prided
themselves upon their tact in managing men, their
sagacity in planning and skill in executing their petty
scheuies of party and personal ambition. And yet
in their very midst stood the greatest person that
had ever appeared on earth, teaching sublime wisdom,
almost unheard and the Pharisees could see nothins:
;

in liim but a dangerous zealot " Ye can discern !

the face of the sky," said Jesus to them, " and of the
earth, but how is it that ye do not discern //i/'.s time ?

Why even of yourselves do ye not judge what is

?
right " They were going on blindly to eternity,
tluTc to lueet an unlooked-for dooiu. Jesus likened
theui to debtors in the hands of a rigorous creditor:
W/iru thoti (/ovsl ii'ilh lluuc adrcrmr// (o the )}i(((/i>i(raf(\ (ts

tlioit (irl ill l/ic n'<ii/. t/irc (lilij/iiifc Hud I/khi )it<(//i'sl he dvlir-
ercd from Ji'nn ; Irsl hr Imlr iJwc In l/ir /ndi/r. mid l/w jmhjc
dclirvr llirr In (lie nfjircr^ mid l/ic <ilfji-ir cusl llu'v iulo jirison.

J It'll thcc^ Unm akall not dcjjuii Ihcncc Ull thou laid paid l/ic

very last mite.

 :

412 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

And yet there was hope even for Pharisees. God

was waiting with long patience, and bringing to bear
upon them the most extraordinary moral influences.
For a little time this would continue. Then would
come the irremediable end. All this he set forth in
the parable of the fig-tree : — He spake also this parable

A certain man had a fig-tree plarded in his vineyard ; and he

came and sought fritit thereon, and found none. Then said
he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold^ these three years
I come seeking fruit on this fig-tree, and find none : cid it
doivn ; tvhy cumhereth it the ground? And he ansioeiing
said unto him, Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig
about it, and dung it : and if it bear fruit, well: and if not,
then after that thou shaU cut it down.
While he was thus teaching, some one from the
crowd —
with that familiarity which strikingly reveals
the footing on which Jesus stood with the people, and
which led them to bring to his notice the news, the
rumors, and the questions of the day, that they might
hear what he had to say —
told him of the slaughter
by Herod, in the Temple at Jerusalem, of certain peo-
ple of his own province of Galilee.
It is probable that this was one of those minor in-
surrections which were continually taking place among
the Jews, one which was not of sufficient importance
to be noticed in any history. The informants of Jesus
appear to have thought that the cruel death of these
men indicated their great sinfulness. No. The prov-
idential dealings of God with men do not proceed
upon grounds of moral desert. He maketh the sun
to rise and the rain to fall upon the good and bad
ahke.
There tvere present at that season some that told him of the
 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 413

Galileans, whose blood Pilate Jiad mingled tvith their sacrifices.

And Jesus ansivering said unto them, Suppose ye that these
Galileam ivere sinners ahove all the Galilmns, because they
suffered such things ? I tell you, Nay : but, except ye repent,

ye ^hall all likeivise perish. Or those eighteen, upon tvhom

the toiver in SUoam fell, and slew them, think ye that they
were sinners above all men that divett in Jerusalem ? I tell
you. Nay : but, except ye r^epent, ye shall all likevnse

perish.

By this declaration Jesus put himself in direct an-

tagonism to the philosophy of his nation, and to the
belief which had prevailed through the whole period
of the Old Testament dispensation. The old Hebrew
approached very near to the modern doctrine of ma-
terial laws ; only, he attributed directly to the Divine
will the effects which we refer to "natural laws."
But he believed, with the modern, that good or evil
results from obedience or disobedience. By a natiu^al
inference he supposed that one upon whom a great
evilcame was suffering the punishment of sin. Al-
though the doctrine of a future life and of rewards
aud punishments after death was already familiar to
the Jewish mind, yet the old notion that miisfortune
is an evidence of criminality had not been weeded
out,and Jesus plainly told them that those who had
been slain by Herod, and those crushed by the falling
tower in Siloam, were not sinful more than others.
God's judiriiicnts are spiritual, and they overhang all
111(11 alike wiio conliniic in worldly and selfish courses.

Ill the inces.sjiut conlhct of ()|)iiii()ii liiat now al-

teiukMl Jesus, he was obliged to assume a vigorous

defence, or to make ])iingent criticism. To easy aud
indolent natures, that do not so nmch love peace as
414 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

di.slike laborious exertion, it is more than likely that

Jesus seemed an unnecessary disturber. Why is it

needful, they would say, to dispute with the authori-

ties of the synagogue ? Of what use will be so much
reprehension ? Is the Messiah's kingdom to be ad-
vanced by such intestine turmoil and conflict? Is
not the coming Prince to be meek and gentle among
his own people, and terrible only to the heathen ?
And his kingdom, is it not to bring peace ? Human
nature must have undergone a great change since
then, if many of his auditors did not suggest to him
such considerations.
But far different was the Messiah's kingdom It !

was to have no external form and no national history.

No one could see it coming, as he could view the ad-
vance of an army, or witness the development and
growth of a secular nation. When men should have
their passions in perfect control, when benevolence
should have expelled selfishness, when purity and
truth should pervade society where deceit and vul-
gar appetite held sway, then the kingdom of the
Messiah would dawn. But how long and severe a
struggle ! The corruption of human nature woidd
not be purged out without pain. There doubtless
rose before the mind of Jesus those ages of conflict

through which Christian civilization has sought to

expel the animal passions from the control of human
society. Suppose ye, he cried, that I am come to

give peace on earth ? I tell you nay, but rather di-

vision ! And it shall not be simply a division created

by selfishness, or the collisions of self-will and pride.
Conscience also shall disturb men. Renewed and ex-
alted sensibilities shall make the selfish ways of life
 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 415

seem hateful, and a zeal for purity and goodness shall

burn as a fire. My kingdom shall separate closest
friends. It shall divide the household. The father
shall be divided ao:ainst the son, and the son ao:ainst
the father ; the mother against the daughter, and the
dauo:hter aorainst the mother.
We must not imao*ine all these thino;s as said on
a single occasion, or before the same audience. The
record is but an epitome of the labors of days and
weeks, — in Capernaum, by the sea-shore, in the fields,
along the wayside, in towns and villages. The sun
rose and set between many of the lines of the record.
Between verse and verse miracles were performed.
Much that was said and done is left out. Jesus was
more active than appears on the face of the Gospel
narratives rich as they are in his words, he was far
;

more fruitful than they represent. John, with the

first three Gospels before him, closes his own his-
tory of the life of Jesus with a declaration whose ex-
travagance fitly attests his sense of the fruitfulness of
Jesus's life. And there are also man// other things tehich
Jesus did, the which, if the/j should be written ever/j one, I
su/i/pose that even the toorld itself could not contain the I)ooJcs

that should. t>e written.

The period of which we are now treating was the

very height of tlie Lord's activity, and we may easily
imagine that the unrecorded part of his labors far ex-
ceeded those portions which were afterwards wi-itten
down. Jesus did not live all the time in tbc excite-
ment of tbc lliinng. At n()()ii(l;i\- lie i('tii(M| fioiii the
open ;iir to the shelter ol" his Capeniaiiiii house.
When tlie lie;it diiiiiiiished, and the shadows he<;an to
fall upon the lake, " went Jesus out of the house and
 ;

416 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

sat by the seaside." The Sea of

would hardly
Galilee
have been heard of had it depended for fame upon
its scenery alone. A hundred lakes surpass it in jjic-
turesque beauty. But no other lake on earth fires the
imagination and fills the heart with such emotion as
this strip of water a little over twelve miles long, and
in its widest part not quite seven broad. Although it
is between and seven hundred feet below the level
six
of the Mediterranean Sea, the descent to it is not pre-
cipitous, and at but few points is the shore line steep,
or overhung with cliffs of any considerable height.
The west shore, especially, is bounded by slopes of
rounded hills, and in some places edged with small
plains, —
notably the little plain of Genesareth, whose
fertility and beauty seem to have excited the enthu-

siasm of Josephus.
The public life of Jesus may be said to have had
its centre and chief development around the Sea of
Galilee. Nothing can excel or equal in intensity of
interest the few closing weeks of his life in Jerusalem
but, these apart, the Sea of Galilee witnessed the
chief part of his ministrations. This he was himself
conscious of He taught everywhere, through Upper
and Lower Galilee but only against the cities on
;

the shores of the lake did he utter maledictions for

their obduracy. Upon them he had bestowed a
long-continued and fruitful activity without a parallel.
But little of his time seems to have been given to the
southern portions of the lake-shore population. He
dwelt upon the northern border, and the most mem-
orable events of his Galilean ministry took place at
the upper end of the lake ; and with a few striking
exceptions, such as the feeding of the multitude and
1 <•:
 AROUND TUE SEA OF GALILEE. 417

the casting out of demons from the man of the tombs,

his deeds and teachings belong chiefly to the north-
west portion.
It was but a short distance from Capernaum to the
plain of Genesareth. Part of the beach is made up
of fragments of basalt, but in many places it is com-

posed of fine white sand, pebbles, and shells. Without

doubt was far more pleasant for passage in that day,
it

when commerce of a swarming population re-

the
quired such a roadway as the shore would make, than
it now is, after the neglect of ages. The traveller
then \vould find many a sward of green grass kindled
with brilliant flowers. It is doubtful if, in the time of
our history, the borders of the lake were edged with
trees to the degree that we are accustomed to see
around the lakes in temperate Northern lands. But
they doubtless flourished to an extent which one could
hardly imagine who now looks upon the barren hills
and shore from which vandal hands have stripped
wellnigh every tree.There must have been places
within easy reach of his house in Capernaum where
cool rocks were overshadowed by dense foliage. Mac-
gregor, who explored the Sea of Galilee in a canoe,
found near to Bethsaida " great rocks projecting from
the shore into the waves, while verdure most pro-
fuse teems over them, and long streamers of maiden's- '

hair,' and richest grasses and ferns and briers and

moss, wave pendent in the breeze, or trail upon the

water." Along the shore, in favored spots, grew reeds
and rushes, and the far-famed papyrus the olive, the ;

fig, and the palm at that tinu» abounded. Nor can

we doubt that oaks, walnuts, and terel)inths cast down
dense and grateful shade on many a point along the
418 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CIllUST.

shore. The thorn-trees, in thickets, and hixuriant

chunps of oleander, glowing with rosy and pink blos-
soms like a burning bush, added to the charms of the
scene.
The solitary walks of Jesus must often have been
along this level beach, which, with slight obstri'ictions
here and there, ran around the whole lake. He must
often have seen the morning mists rise as the sun
advanced, and heard the cry of the fishermen return-
ing shoreward from their early work. Before his eyes
rose the high and scarped hills of Bashan on the east
of the lake. The mouth of the upper Jordan, coming
into the lake from the north, was but two or three
miles distant, probably not then green with reeds as
in our day, but edged with the houses of cities now
perished. That Jesus was observant of nature, at least
when associated with human industrj^, is shown by
his parables and it is none the less striking because
;

his eye discerned the moral uses, rather than the

purely aesthetical relations of things. No one could
be conversant with the Hebrew prophets, or with the
singers of Israel, and be indifferent to the aspects of
the natural world. The moral suggestions, the sub-
limity and beauty of mountains and hills, of rivers
and the sea, of trees and and grass,
vines, of flowers
of clouds and storms, of birds and beasts, as they are
felt by poetic and devout natures in our day, were

unknown to the people of antiquity, with the single

exception of the Hebrew nation. Jesus was truly a
Hebrew. He loved solitude, as the great prophets
always did. He "discerned the face of the sky," and
the clothing of the and the myster}^ of the sea,
hills,

as well as the processes of husbandry and the ways

 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 419

of the city. His resort to the shore was not merely

for purposes of lonely meditation. was the The sea
centre of active commerce. All along its shore busy
towns plied their industry. The fisheries were a
source of great profit. The surface of the lake was
dotted at morning and evening with fleets of boats
busy in fishing others darted hither and thither,
;

transporting passengers from side to side of the lake.

On its peaceful bosom, too, had raged naval battles
between Roman and Jewish galleys.
Now the sea is almost deserted. Tiberias yet exists;
but the long belt of proud and busy towns that en-
compassed this inland lake is gone, and men from
distant lands grope among the thorns or overgrown
heaps of stone, disputing the position of one and
another city which in the days of Jesus seemed too
strong to be ever wasted. Both around the sea and
in all the country far away on each side of it, the
and towns have utterly perished. Temples and
cities

synagogues are gone. Walls of towns and marble

palaces are in heaps. The architectural ambition of
Herod, the city-building aspirations of the Greeks, the
engineering Romans, all alike
achievements of the
have hopelessly perished. The Lake of Genesareth is
without a boat. Its fish swarm unmolested. The soil
adjacent runs rankly to thorns and briers. Only a few
Arabs hover about its edges. But oue thing remnins;
it is the uuMUory of Jesus. The sky, the surrouud-
ing hills, and the water li;ive but oue story to tell the
educated tiMveller. Jesus still wanders slowlv alonir
these deseited shores. His spirit yet walks uj)on these
waters; and the very name of this plain and solitary
lake sends a liiiill ihiuugh every one who hears it!
420 'J'Hf' III I- ^>i' •iJ'^-'^^is, THE (^nnrsT.

Toward evening, after a clay of great labor, Jesus

resorted to the shore of the lake. The shadows were
falling and coolness was coming on with
from the Avest,

night. Across the lake the light was playing on the

hills, and kindling them with colors rarely seen in

any other locality. If Jesus sought solitude for medi-

tation or the refreshment of a Avalk, he was disappoint-
ed. Such was the intense interest now felt in all his

doings that the sight of him gathered a crowd. We

have seen before how at times the multitude so
thronged him that he had no leisure so much as to eat,
that his family could not by any effort press through to
his side, and that the people absolutely trod upon one
another ; and now so great was the throng upon the
sea-shore that he took refuge in a boat, and, pushing
out a little, taught them from this novel seat. If
we suppose that the boat had ))een drawn up in some
inlet, then the audience might line either side, and,

from the rise of the ground, stand on successive levels,

as in a natural amphitheatre; so that the "great mul-
titudes" "come to him out of every city" could easily
be within speaking distance. We are to remember,
also, that the reii-ion of this lake is famed for the
propagation of souud.^
As soon he had gained a favorable position for his
as
floating pulpit, he began to instruct the people, who
seem never to have wearied of hearing his words, and

'
Macgrcgor, in coasting along the sea in the famed canoe Rob Roy,
gives an account of a running conversation with an Arab travelling on shore
while the at a distance of three hundred yards from
Rob Roy was paddling
him. was very remarkable how distinctly every word was hearil, even
" It

at three hundred yards oil"; and it was very easy to comprdiend how in
this clear air a preacher sitting in a boat could easily lu' heard by a vast

multitude standing upon the shore." — The Hob Roy on the Jordan, p. 328.
 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 421

seldom to have ol)eyed them. There was the eager,

fickle multitude, rapt in attention, stirred to their souls

while he was speaking. Yet their consciousness moved

with his. How beautiful, while he spoke, \yas the
holiness of the kingdom of God ! How noble to
break away from evil and rise to the serene moods of
virtue ! But liow transient the impression on their
minds! upon the sea, forget-
Before the darkness fell

fulness would descend upon most of his hearers. A

few would for some days carry a heart of thoughtful
purpose l)ut secular cares would soon change the cur-
;

rent, and they would relapse into indifference. Onlj^

here and there a single one would receive from Jesus
the permauent impulse to a higher life. This wasting
away of moral impressions was the very theme of his
discouise. Right before his eyes and theirs were the
materials of the parable Avhich pictured the truth.
" Hearken Behold, there went out a sower to sow
:

ids seed and it came to pass, as he sowed, some fell

:

by the w.ayside, and it was trodden down, and the fowls

of the air came and devoured it up. And some fell
on stony ground where it had not much earth and ;

iunuediately it sprang up, because it had no depth of

earth but as soon as it was sprung up, when tlie sun
:

was up, it was scorched; and because it lacked uioisluiO

Mud bad no I'oot it withered away. And some fell
among thorns, and tiie tliorns gi-ew up witli it. and
cliol-ied it, and it yicbb'd no fi'uit. And other IMI on
good ground, and did yield IViiil that s|)iang np and
increased; ami broiiglil lortli. some an liundred-lbld.
some sixty-fold, some thirty-fold."
The grain-fields were not, as in our Dinning districtvS,

near the farmers' dwellings, but remote fn)ni them, so

422 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE ClllilST.

that the sower indeed " went out "

sow there were to ;

only paths, narrow and often rocky, and no wide

roads with fields of soil on either side. Patches of
thistles and jungles of thorns sjDrang up in spots, and
defied extermination ; while the ledges of rock that
broke through to the surface, or were covered by a
mere film of soil, furnished another element of this
rural picture.
Although truths illustrated by this parable are of
continuous efficacy and of universal application in the
propagation of moral forces among men, yet it is

easy to see why Jesus should have felt called to an-

nounce such truth at that particular time. Brillijint

in many respects as his ministry was, what, after all,

had been gained? The expectation of a new king-

dom was not a poetic notion among thinking Jews, but
a deep and earnest fjiith, and at times an agonizing
wish. It was not a matter to be trifled with. He who
claimed, or allowed his followers to believe, that he was
the longed-for One, and that the kingdom of heaven
was at hand, touched the heart of the nation to the
quick. He who excited hopes that verged u})on fanat-
icism must not expect to escape, if he did nothing to
justify anticipations which he had aroused. It is evi-

dent that a spirit of impatience was springing up. The

message of John from his prison is one indication of
it; another is the impression of Jesus's own relatives,

that he was an enthusiast, acting without a rational

aim. The same feeling broke out a little later, when
his brethren again interfered Avith him: "Go into
Judaea, that th}^ disciples also may see the works that
thou doest. For there is no man that doeth any-
thing in secret, and he himself seeketh to be known
 ;

AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 423

openly. If thou do these things" (i. e. if there is no

deceit in these miracles, and they are what they
seem to be), " show thyself to the world." (John
vii. 3, 4.)

That a feeling of secret and growing dissatisfaction

existed, there can hardly be a doubt. Nor are we to
leave out of consideration the working of another
thing, the failure of Jesus to convince or win the
educated and religious portion of the community. It
would be said, and felt far more often than said, "This
man has the art of stirring up the ignorant crowd
but what does it all amount to ? They gather to-day,
and are gone to-morrow. He comes down on the
people like a gust of wind upon yonder sea. The
waves roll, the whole sea is alive but in an hour the ;

wind is down, and the lake is just as it was before.

It is only a momentary excitement among ignorant
men. He makes no head with those who are intelli-
gent. Why don't he convince those whose business
"
it is to study the truth ?

To meet tliis mood, Jesus expounds in the parable

of the sower the nature of moral teaching. Imme-
diate results are no test of the reality of the ti'uth.
The new kingdom is to come by growth, and not by
miracle. Truth, like seed, is to l)e sown, subject to all

the conditions of human nature. The worldly cares,

the sordid passions, have, as it were, beaten hard paths
along the life of men. The Divine truth lalls upon
these ways of scKislmcss. or oC avarice, or of hatred ;

but there is nothing in tlii'm to grasp it. It lies

like seed in a trodden path; and as birds devour such

seed, uncovered, e\])osed. before it can liiile its roots
or send up a stem, so truth, falling on uncongenial
 ;;

424 TllK LIFE OF JFSUS, THE CHRIST.

minds, rolls off, or is dispersed and consumed by gad-

ding and hungry world-thoughts. Or, it may be in
the crowd that swarms around the teachers are many
whose hearts are more kindly, but they lack force.
The truth is readily accepted, but there is no deep
moral nature into which its roots may penetrate. In-
tense feeling and vivid imagination flourish for a day,
and then languish, perish, and disappear. In the case
of other natures, the truth finds a bed in Avhich to be
planted, but one where weeds also have found root
and as in nature that which spends its strength in
fruit or grain has not strength to cope with that
which gives little and spends all on its
to its fruit,
robust leaves and stem, the rank growth chokes the
tender grain. A few hearts only are like good soil,
well tended, capable of developing the truth-germ to
its full form.
Thus the moral teacher finds himself limited by
hard natures that will not receive truth at all, by
vivacious and fickle natures that retain no impressions
long, and by strong natures preoccupied with worldly
interests; he finds only a few which are in
while
condition to imderstand, entertain, and deal fjiirly with
the truth. Hardness, shallowness, and preoccupation
are perpetual hindrances.
This parable of the sower was an illusti-ation of an
important fact respecting the progress of moral truth
but it was also an answer to those who expected Jesus
to bring in the new kingdom by the exertion of super-
natural forces. gave the clew to the reason why no
It
larger results followed so great an excitement. Taken
in connection with the abundance of his miracles, it
has peculiar significance. Jesus wrought no miracle
 AROUND THE SEA OF CArJLEE. 425

U23on the human soul. He distinctly marked the line

between the physical realm and the spiritual. Upon
matter he laid a hand of power for that was to treat ;

it according to its ownThe human soul he

nature.
left to its own freedom, approaching it only by moral
influences ; that was to treat the soul according to its

nature.
In no instance did he seek to secure moral results
by direct power. By his w^ill he changed water to
wine, but never pride to humility. He multiplied a
few loaves into great abundance of bread, but never
converted the slender stores of ignorance into the
riches of knowledge. The fury of the sea he allayed
by a word, Ijut the storms of human passion he never
controlled by his irresistible During his whole \\ill.

career, there is not an instance in which the two

realms of matter and of mind were confounded, or their
respective laws disregarded. His miracles were natu-
ral, and his teaching was natural. The former man-
aged physical uature according to its genius, and the
latter reached out to the human soul accordiuir to
its peculiar constitution ; and both of them are ad-
mirable illustrations of a conformity to nature, in a
sense far more intensive and radical than is usually
attached to that plirase.
It is lor those who regard the Gospels as the gradual
unfoldiug of uiytbs, liaviug perha])s a genu of fact, to

explain how, in early ages, aud anioug ignorant and

superstitious men. this nice distiuctiou l)etweeM the
two great realms of creation should iiavc ht'cu iu\aii-
al)ly maintained. Il' the (Jospels aic not a true his-

tory of a real Jesus, written by the nu'n whose nanies

they bear, hut are the product of superstition gradu-
426 '^111'^ T^iii'^ ^^z' -/A'.^r.s, THE ciiiusT.

ally acting through a long period, how is it that so

fine an abstinence IVoni miracles upon the human soul
should have been observed by men who evidently
had an eager appetite for wonders, and who filled

their history with marvels without number, l)ut al-

ways miracles wrought uj^on matter, and never once
upon the spirit of man ?

It is true that Jesus made way for his spiritual teach-

ing by the exercise of power upon the infirmities of
the body. But that was only a preparation for instruc-
tion, as ploughing is for seed-sowing. The furrow was
opened, but the seed was left to germinate by its own
nature and laws. This remarkable subordination of
physical force to moral influence pervaded his whole
life and ministry. He exercised his authority to for-
give sins, but never his power to refonn the sinner.
Diseases of the body were peremptorily cured; but
the sores and fevers of the soul could not be arbitra-
rily healed. By his coercive power he often cast out
demons ; but evil dispositions, never. Between the
teaching of Jesus and that of rabbi or philosopher the
difference was that of substance, not merely of method.
He addressed truth to the understanding, motives to
the will, and feeling to the emotions. Not only was
he patient with the tardy results, but, in all his min-
istry, he acted as one Avho left his cause to the evolu-
tion of the ages.
If one willcompare the Sermon on the Mount with
the teaching in the thirteenth chapter of Matthew, he
will see a reason why the disciples should be struck
with his altered method, and why they should inquire
from Jesus the reason of so large a use of the parable.
The spirit of the reply will be better understood, if
 AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 427

we consider it as a statement of his reasons for not

employing an open didactic method. The parable was,
under the circumstances, more likely to inspire curi-
osity and to lead perhaps, by and by, to some knowl-
edge of the truth. His disciples were within the new
kingdom, by virtue of their sensibility to moral ideas.
They who from conceit or lack of feeling rejected
spiritual truth were " without." To them there could
be no instruction, because there was no susceptibility
to moral truth. Words fell upon such as seed upon a
beaten path. As there is something in the eye waiting
for the light, and in the ear prepared for sound, and in
the body ready to digest and assimilate food, so there
must be in the soul some pre-existing fitness for truth.
Where the universal moral sense is kept clear and
practical, the soul will increase in moral excellence.
But when it is abused, it will lose sensibility and waste
away. " He answered and said unto them, Because it

is given unto you to know the mysteries of the king-

dom of heaven, but to them it is not given. For who-
soever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have
more al)un(lance : but whosoever hath not, from him
shall be taken away even that he hath. Therefore
speak I to them in parables : because they seeing see
not ; and hearing they hear not, neither do they
iiiidcrstaiKl."

Ill ilhistration of this view, Jesus quotes from Isjiiali

(vi. D) a passage which, judged from its f;ice alone,

would seem to say thiit Jesus taugiit in p;ii;ibles for

tile purpose of jiclivcly blinding those wlio were

"without," and securing their destruction by hiding the
saving truth from their luiiids. But tliis is abhorrent
to every sentiiiieiil of honor or justice, utterly irrecon-
 "

428 '-l^^H'^ f'll'^'-^ OF JESUS, THE cniUST.

cilablewith the very errand of Jesus into the world,

and the direct opposite of that disposition of pity and
love which he not only taught, but manifested all his
life long. The true heart of Jesus was expressed at a
later period in these words :
" How often would I have
gathered thy children .... but yc would not."
A parable was adapted to arouse the curiosity of
even the hardened, and to excite reflection in men's
minds, and so ultimately bring them to the truth bet-
ter than would didactic instruction. Men will remem-
ber an illustration when they would forget a principle.
The parable, so far from being an instrument for
blinding, was better adapted to give light than would
be the unillustrated statement of spiritual things. At
the same time, it put the truth in such a form that
those who were lying in wait to catch Jesus in his
words would upon which to lay hold.
find nothing
The was not delivered to a mere
discourse of Jesus
peasant audience. There were those present capable
of acute criticism. They had kept up with the cur-
rent of Jewish thought. They would be likely to say,
"This kingdom, —
this new notion of a kingdom that

no one can see, that has no outward show, pray, how —

shall one know whether it is present or absent ?

And he said, ^o is the kingdom of God, as if a man

shonld cast seed into the (/round ; and should sleep, and rise

nighl and da//, and the seed should sjmng and groiv up, he
knowcth not how. For the earth bring eth forth fruit of her-
self, first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the

ear. But ivhen the fruit is brougM forth, immediately he put-

teth in the sicJde, because the harvest is come.

The realm of the disposition or heart, of which Paul

says, "The kingdom of God is not meat and drink,
 —

AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 429

but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy

Ghost," does not march in as armies do, but develops
by stages of evolution, as do plants. " Yet surely,"
they would say, "there should be some beginning to it!

Is there no starting-point to this mysterious kingdom ?

It is to be a vast, earth-filling kingdom,. where are —
its elements ? Are there no materials Avhich show a
preparation? " In reply to such queries.
Another parable put he forth unto them, saf/ing., The king-

dom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard-seed, ivhich a man

took, and soired in his field : which indeed is the least of all

seeds : but ivhen it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs,

and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and
lodge in the branches thereof.
" Ah, it is an influence then," they said. " But
"
where is the workinu; of that influence ?

The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman

took, and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole ivas

kavcned.
It is works within the heart.
silent influence. It
The woman neither sees nor hears what is going on
in the dough yet in the morning it is leavened.
;

Thus the Divine influence is silently working in the

souls of men.
"This motley crowd, is this your kingdom? Are
these all good men? Ragged, squalid, mean, uiixed
of ;dl nations, running after you from curiosity, or in
ho[)e of some gain, or for an interested i)ur])ose.
do you pretend that God's kingdom is made ii[) of
such?"
The kingdom of heaven is- like unto a net, that was cast
into the sea^ and gathered of everg kind //'hie//, when it :

was full, tJiey drew to shore, and sat down, and gathered the
 "

430 ^''^/^' i^ti'''^^ '^''' -/A'.sx'.s, Tiih: ciiiusT.

good into vessels, but cast the had aivay. So shall it J)e at the

end of the ivorld : the angels shall come forth, and sever the
wicked from among the just, and shall cast them into the fur-
nace of fire : there shall he wailing and gnashing of teeth.
"At the end of the world? That is a long time to
wait ! Why do you not select and enroll your follow-
ers ? Why not at once cast away from you all unwor-
thy persons, and register the clearly good ?
To this Jesus replies that the thing cannot be done.
The church will always have uuAvorthy members, the
kingdom of God on earth will always be rejiresented
by rude and imperfect materials :
—
Another parahle put he forth unto them, saying, The king-
dom of heaven is likened unto a man which sowed good seed in
his field : bid tvhile men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares
among the wheat, and tvent his way. But ivhen the blade ivas

sprung itp, and brought forth fruit, then appeared the tares
also. So the servants of the householder came and said unto
him. Sir, didst not thou sow good seed in thy field? from
ivhence then hath it tares ? He said unto them. An enemy
hath done this. The servants said unto him. Wilt thou then
that we go and gather them up> ? But he said, Nay ; lest

tvhile ye gather vp the tares, ye root up also the tvhcat with

them. Let both groiv together until the harvest : and in tJie

time of harvest I will say to the reapers, Gather ye together

first the tares, and bind them in bundles to hum them : but

gather the u'heat into my barn.

While all things are imperfect, the separation of
good and bad is impossible. When all things are ripe,
there will be no difficulty in seciu-ing the wheat.
Insignificant and valueless as a share in this in-
visible new kingdom might seem to men greedy of
gain or inflamed with ambition, there was nothing in
 ;!

AROUND THE SEA OF GALILEE. 431

life to compare witli it. One might well give all his

time, his influence, and his means, to be possessed

of it :
—
The Jcingdo)!) of luaven is like unto treasure hid in a Jield
the tvhich when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy
thereof goeth and selleth all that he Jiath, and hwjeth that

field.

What are houses, lands, and money worth to a

heart stirred up with discontent? A heart at peace,
or overflowing with joy, can better be without world-
ly goods, than have riches without heart happiness
Many a man, outwardly hard and rugged as the oyster-
shell, carries within him a pearl of exceeding worth -^ :

The kingdom of heaven is like vnto a merchant-man seeking

goodhj jiearh : who, when he had found one pearl of great
price, tvent and sold all that he tiad, and boug/it it.

It is likely that not a single person of his audience

gained a clear idea of God's spirit-kingdom, but it is

still less probalfle that any left the shore of Galilee

that dnv without the beo-innino-s of new tlioujrhts,

which from that time forth began to leaven their

minds.
Tt is a difficidt task even now, after so many liun-
(h('(l yeai's of ('X])i'rience, to expoiuid to unknowing
liearts themeaning ol' the kingdom of heaven, so that
they comprcbend it. It was yet more difticult
shall
in the days of the Son of Man. But, witli all our
progress in knowledge, we still go back to tlicsc para-
bles of Jesus as ibe easiest aud cleiU'est expositions
of bis kingdom tliat can Ix' icceiveiL — not tbrougb
the hearing of the ear. luil oidy by the understanding
heart.
432 THE LIFE OF JESUS, THE CHRIST.

The Voice ceased. The crowd disappeared. The

light that had sparkled along the waters and fired the
distant hills Avent out. Twilight came on the even-
;

ing winds whispered among the rustling reeds, and the

ripples gurgling upon the beach answered them in
liquid echoes. The boom of the solitary bittern came
over the w^aters, and now and then, as darkness fell
upon the lake, the call of the fishermen, at their nightr
toil. The crowd dispersed. The world received its
own again. With the darkness came forgetfulness,
leaving but a faint memory of the Voice or of its

teachings, as of a wind whispering among the fickle

reeds. The enthusiasm of the throng, like the last
rays of the sun, died out; and their hearts, like the
sea, again sent incessant desires murmuring and com-
plaining to the shore.
 APPENDIX.

THE GOSPELS CONSOLIDATED

 INTEODUCTIOlSr.

Luke 1. 1-4. Ij FORASMUCH as many have taken in hand to set

J- which
forth in-order a declaration of those things
are most surely believed among us, even as they deliv-
ered them unto us, which from the beginning were eye-
witnesses, and ministers of the word it seemed good
;

to me also, having had perfect understanding of all

things from the very first, to write unto thee in order,
most excellent Theophilus, that thou mightest know
the certainty of those things, wherein thou hast been
instructed.^
 THE GOSPEL HISTORY.

Chapter I. — The Divinity of Christ.

liefer to Mark i. 1.

John i. 1-5, 9-14, 16-18.

Chapter II. —The Birth of John the Baptist and Birth of Jesus
foretold, and the meeting of Mary and Elizabeth.
Kefer to Luke i. 5-50.
John i. 6-8, 15.

Chapter III. — Birth and Circumcision of John the Baptist.

Refer to Luke i. 57-80.

Chapter IV. — Birth and Circumcision of Jesus Christ.

Refer to Matthew i. 18-25.
" Luke ii. 1-39.
" Isaiali vii. 14.

Chapter V. — The Genealogies of Jesus Christ.

Refer to Matthew i. 1-1 7. .

Mark i. 1.

Luke iii. 2:5-38.

Chapter VI. — The Infancy of Josus Christ.

Refer to Nhitthew ii. 1-23.
" Luke ii. 39-52.
" Micah V. 2.
" Ilosca xi. 1.
" .Tcrciniah xxxi. 15.

Isaiah liii. 2.
43G THE GOSPEL HISTORY.

Chapter VIII. — The Baptism of Jesus Christ and his Tempta-

tion.
Refer to Matthew iii. Vi-n.
iv. 1-11.
*'
Mark i. 9-13.
Luke iii. 21, 22.
*' " iv. 1-13.
" iii. 23.
Psahiixci. 11, 12.

Chapter IX. — The Testimony of John the Baptist to Jesus,

and the calling of the first Disciples.
Refer to John i. 19-51.
" Isaiah xl. 3.

Chapter X. —The Marriage at Cana. Journey to Jerusalem.—

— The casting out of the Traders from the Temple.
Refer to John ii. 1-22.
" Psalm Ixix. 9.

Chapter XI. — Jesus and Nicodemus. — Further Testimony of

the Baptist.
Refer to John ii. 23-25.
" iii. 1-36.

Chapter XII. — Imprisonment of John the Baptist. — Return

of Jesus to Galilee.— Interview with the Woman of Samaria.
Refer to Matthew iv. 12.
xiv. 3-5.
" Mark i. 14.
" Luke iii. 19, 20.
" iv. 14.
" John iv. 1-45.

Chapter XIII. — The Preaching of Jesus in Galilee. — Severii

Miracles. — Calling of several Disciples.

Refer to Matthew iv. 17, 13-16, 18-22.

Mark i. 14-39.
Luke iv. 14-31, 38, 39.
John iv. 46-54.
Luke v. 1-11.
" Isaiah Ixi. 1, 2.
' " ix. 1, 2.
 THE GOSPEL HISTORY. 437

Chapter XIV. — Healing of a Leper, ami of a Paralytic.

Refer to Matthew iv. 23-35.
" " viii. 2-4.
ix. 2-9.
Mark i. 40-45.
" ii. 1-14.
Luke V. 12-28.

Chaptkr XV. — TIealing of a Man on the Sabbath, and conse-

quent Discussion.
Refer to Jolui v. 1-47.

Chapter XVL — Christ's Teaching as to the Sabbath. — The

Ordination of the Tweh^e Apostles.

Refer to Matthew xii. 1-15.

Mark ii. 23-26.
* Luke vi. 1-19.
Mark iii. 1-19.
Mattliew X. 2-4.
" Isaiah xlii. 1-3.

Chapter XVII. — The Sermon on the ]Mount.

Refer to Mattliew v. 1-48.
vi. 1-34.
vii. 1-29.
Luke vi. 20-30, 32-42, 31, 43-49.

Chapter XVIII. — Tlie Healing of the Centurion's Servant, and

the raising of the Widow's Son at Xain.

Ri^fer to Matthew viii. 1, 5-13.

" Luke vii. 1-17.

C'iiAi'ri:i{ XIX. —.Tt^sus and tlie Disciples of Jolm tlio Baptist.

— .h'sus' Testimony of John liaptist. His Comlfmnation of —

tlie unbt'lioving Citie.-*, —
Jesus anointed by a Woman at a
Pharisee's hcnise.

Hcfir to Mattliew xi. 2-30.

Luke vii. 18-50.
Malarhi iii. 1.
438 THE GOSPEL HISTORY.

Chapter XX. — Another Circuit through Galilee. — Denunci-

ation of the Scribes and Pharisees on the occasion of a Devil
being cast out, and of a Dinner at a Pharisee's house.

Refer to Matthew xii. 22-50.

Mark ill. 19-35.
" Luke viii. 1-3.
" xi. 14, 15, 17-22, 16, 23-26.
•' " xi. 29-30, 20-28, 37-51
 .

ANALYTICAL INDEX.

Adultery, the Sermon on the Mount, 337. Capernaum, 197 the last traces of, 199
;
,

Almsgiving, the Sermon on the Mount, a year of beneficence in, 281 the ;

342. judgment upon, by Jesus, 379 ; its

Angelic Minisirationa, tlie fiiith of a de- scenery, 417.

vout Jew, 19 ; a strikinj^ feature of the Carpenter, tlie trade of, now and In
period, 39; faith of tlic church and Christ's time in Palestine, 67.
peojile, 40 ; relation to monotheism Caves in Palestine and their use, 29.
among the Greeks, 42. Centurion of Capernaum, the, 364.

Ann.v, the prophetess, 35. Character OF Jesus, 146; tenderness

Annunciation, the, 1 1 in personal intercourse, 148; not re-
A])ostles, the, as distinguished from dis- garded as a common man, 150 ;
power
ciples, 299. of his look, 151 ;
power as a speaker,
AitciiELAUS, the successor of IIcrod,39. 153; impressive manner, 1.54; popu-
I3ti/ilittm, John's formula, and the mean- lar conceptions, 155; assumptions of
ing of the act, 99 ; Christ's baptism, sovereign authority, 276.
and the Jewish law, 110; learned wri- Childhood of Jesus, ])oints for special
ters on the subject, 111; Christ's own attention, 75 ; brothers and sisters, 75 ;

interpretation of tlie rite, 112; its Matthew declares he would be called

symbolic meaning and formula, 223 ; a Nazarene, 77.
the disciples' dispute about purifying, Cliorazin, the judgment of Christ upon,
224 ; the dispute not yet ended, 22."). 379.
Btdlitiidcs. See Si nnun on tlie Muiint. Christian Art, deification of the Virgin,
Bfulitudes, the Mount of the, 306. 16; tributes to Mary as the tyjw of
Bek.lzkijuu, critical examination of the motherhood, 33.
name, 388. Christian Church, its gradual unfolding
" llig," the strained use of the word, 375. and interpretation of spiritual Gospel
/iincrolfnir, the Sermon on tiic Mount, truths, 7.
341. Church Organization was not the aim of
lirlhesdn, the I'oo' of, 20'). Christ, 178.
fii'tlilt'liim, to-day, and in tlic time of CuuZA, Ilernd's steward, the wife of,

Christ, 31. 383, 402.

firllisdidd, the jndgnuni <»f ("lirist upon, " Come unto me, all ye that I'llior," 381.
379. CoNANT, Professor T. J., on the word
" Horn agiJii," physical and moral re- "lK'g,"375; oil the name Beelzebub,
birth, 21S. 388.
Cami. See Wtddtug. Corrlunnniss, a wiirning, 406.
 .

440 ANALYTICAL INDEX.

Critics of the Gospels, 8. Future Life, Christ's familiarity with,

David, King, the consecrated bread, 410 ; its influence upon his teachings,
274. 410.
Design of Christ's teaching, the direct Galilee, local influences upon Christ's
influence of the Divine nature upon life, 58; scenery, 60, 416; historical
the human heart, 156. associations, 62 animal and vegetable
;

Disciples, the permanent formation of the life, 62 ; admixture of pagan popula-

disciple family, 297 ; Simon, James, tion, 161 ; the centre of Christ's pub-
and John, 298 Matthew, otherwise
; lic life, 416 ; Macgregor's description,
Levi, 298 ; occupations and social 417.
position, 298 ; character and personal Galileans, reply of Jesus on news of
relations with Jesus, 299 ; errors and their slaughter, 413.
Aiilings, 299 ; why chosen, 299 ; as Gates of Oriental cities the evening re-

distinguished from apostles, 299. sort, 284.

Discourses of Jesus, illustrations from Genesareth, the plain of, 416; Christ's
nature, 64 ; reasons for simplicity, 66 ;
solitary walks, 418; propagation of
influence of the Book of Proverbs, 69 ;
sound in that region, 420 ; its desola-
toNicodemus, 218; to the woman of tion in later times, 419.
Samaria, 239 before the Sanhedrim,
; Gospels, the four, the only material for
269. a life of Christ, 2 ; their value as tes-
Divine Influences upon mental transfor- timony, 2 ; authority and motives for
mations, 106. writing them, 3 ; what they are, their

Divinity, the claims of Jesus to, 293. moral rather than chronological simi-
Divorce, the Sermon on the Mount, 337. larity, 4 ; compared to Xenophon's
Dixon, W. H., view of Nazareth, 262. Memorabilia of Socrates, 5 their ref- ;

Doctors, the, in the Temple, 73. erence to the mental altitude and cus-
DoLLiNGER, Dr., on the Pharisees, 163. toms of their time, 6 ; Jews iheir

Education of Jesus, 296. authors, 6 ; necessity readapting with,

Education among the Jews, 295 ; courses 7 ; the life of Christ should be re-writ-
of study, 296 ; teaching of trades at ten for every age, 7 ; their deeper
schools, 296 ; the rabbis, even, were meaning to us than to the primitive
taught such, 296 ; why the disciples disciple, 8 ; the two classes of Gospel
were named after trades taught at critic*?, 8 ; to which class the present

school, 296. writer belongs, 9 ;

providential design
Eli AS the prophet, 92; dramatic inci- of the Gospels, 11; their structure,

dents of his career, 93. 145 ; are collective reminiscences of

Elizabeth. See Zaciiarias. Christ, 145; the mythical theory in
Ellicott's " Lectures," on the duration regard to them, 425.
of Christ's ministry, 264. Governinent a constitutional necessity in
Essenes, organization, observances, and man, 178; physical and moral, con-
faith of, 169. sidered, 409.
Fasting, the Sermon on the Mount, 350. Grain-Jickls of Galilee, 42;
Feasts, the three annual at Jerusalem, Greek and Hebrew minu^ contrasted,
200 ; the Passover, 201 ; of Purim, 303.
264. See also Jerusalem. Hattin, the scene of the Sen. on on the
Forgiveness of Sin, the repentant Mag- Mount, 305.
dalene, 371 ; Christ's enunciation of Heathen, the word as a designation, 332.
power to forgive sin, 293. Hebrews, original tribal organization.
 ;; ;;;

ANALYTICAL INDEX. 441

82 ; the priests the ruling class, m ;

sacred songs of the travellers, 71 ; the
the propiietic nature, 83. unconstrained character of the festival,
Hebrew Women, education and associa- 72 the approach to the
; city, 201
tions, 17; participation in public af- Jerusalem to Galilee, 229.
fairs, 35. Jesus, the Christ, birth of Jesus, 29;
Hebrew and Greek minds contrasted, laid in a manger, 29 opinions and ;

303. customs assign various dates to the

Herod, his alarm on bearing of Jesus, nativity, 31 the voice from the heav-
;

36 ; Magi and sends them

consults the ens and the coming of the shepherds,
to seek Jesus, 36 they see Jesus and ; 32 ; circumcision, and presentation in
depart to their homes, 37 ; Herod's the Temple, 34; Simeon and Anna,
greater alarm, — the massacre of chil- 35 ; the excitement at Jerusalem, 35
dren ordered, 38 , the liistorical truth Herod consults the Magi, 36 ; tiie guid-
of the statement, 38 , the death of ing star, 36 ; their worship and gifts,

Herod, 39 ; succeeded by Archelaus, 37 ; the flight into Egy])t and return

39 ; his suspicious and cruel character, to Nazareth, 39 ; the nature of Jesus
401 ; Jesus had friends among his (see Nature of .lesus) ; childhood and
household, 402 ; the wife of Herod's residence at Nazareth, 54 ; his visit to
stev/ard, 383, 402. Jerusalem at twelve years of age, the
Holy Ghost, the descent of, upon Jesus, last glimpse of him for sixteen or
105. eighteen years, 56 ; his probable youth-
Humanitarianism. See Nature of Jesus. ful experiences and character, 56
Immortality always assumed in Christ's his brothers and sisters, 75 the ;

teachings, 410. local influences of Galilee, — the bad

Incarnation. See Nature of .Jesus. reputation of Nazareth, its beautiful
Inspiration of the Scriptures, its theory, scenery, 60 ; historical associations of

79 ; how the claim should be under- Galilee, 62; influence of the region
stood, 80. upon his genius considered, 63-66;
Israel. See Hebrews. his education was little beyond his
.Tarob's Well, the discourse of Jesus to father's trade of carpenter, 66 ; what
the woman of Samaria, — locality of the term included, 67 ; his knowledge
the well, 236 ; its authenticity, 237 ; of the Old Testament gained in the
he asks for water, 239 ; the woman's synagogue, 69 ; the influence of that
implied taunts, 240; the " living wa- knowledge upon his mind, 69 ; his
ter," 240 ; the return of the discijiles first visit to Jerusalem, TO ; the festi-

intcrrnjits the conversation, 245 ; its val over, his parents return, — he is

effect upon the woman's mind, 246 mis.sed after a day's journey, 72 ; they
she informs her town's-jK'oi)Ie, 247 ; find him after three days among the
he remains with them two days, 247 ; doctors in the Temple, 73 ; John, the
Jesus thus sft himself against the ex- forerunner of Jesus (sec .John); is

clusivcness of the Jewish Church, 247 ;

baptized by John, 104 ; the sign of the
his treatment of n sinning woman, dove descending, — u voice fmm heav-
249 ; the iiuidont a fit |)reiude to his en, 105 ; Jesus from that moment Ik--

opening j)uhlic life, 249 ; objections to eame the Christ, 106; he U-gins the
the narrative, 2.50 ; jiis rejily to the new dis|xMisatiuu, 107; the temptation
diseii)les who reproaciird him, 250. in the wilderness (see I'lmytnlion) ; the
Jfritsitiiin, love of the .lews for it, 12; IKTsonal Hp|H'arance of Jesus {ace Prr-
the annual fustivul, 70 , the roa<ls, 70 sonut A}ij» araiict) ; the design of his
 — ; —;;

442 ANALYTICAL INDEX.

teachings, 1 56 ; social and religious con- Jerusalem, 264 ; healing the man at
dition of Palestine, 160 (see also Jews, the pool of Bethesda, 266 ; the sick
Pliarisees, Saddncees, Essenes, &c.) ;
man unlawfully carries his bed upon
the expectations of" a Messiah, and his the Sabbath, 266 ; anger of the Jews
real design, 1 72 ; its progressive devel- thereat, 267 ; Jesus is summoned be-
opment, 174 ; he did not aim to organ- fore the Sanhedrim, 269 ; his discourse
ize a church, 178; retained full com- in reply to accusations, 269 ; he claims
munion witli the Jewish Church, 178; Divine authority, 270 ; now first calls

his return home after the temptation, himself the Son of God, 271 ; wonder
181 ; he clung to the common life of and rage of the court at his defiance
he was the " Son of
the people, 181 ; of their authority, 271 ; it was his first
Man," 183; he went to Cana, 183; collision with theTemple party, 273 ;

the wedding feast (see Wedding ) ; his the policy of the Temple thenceforth
life for the next two years, 195; visit hostile, 273; Jesus was watched by

to Capernaum and subsccjueut home spies, 273 ; the plucking of grain by

there, 196; his miracles and life at the disciples a new accusation, 273 ;

Capernaum, 197; his failure to win his replies, 275 ; his sovereignty of
the jjcople to a spiritual life, 198; Je- spirit in these contests, 276 ; heals the
sus went to Jerusalem, 199; the first paralytic man in the synagogue, 276 ;

Judyeau ministry, — the

approach to again accused, — his replies, 276 ; the
Jerusalem, 202 ; the Temple, 203 the ; conflict of his love with inhumanity,
traffic therein, 207 ; Jesus drove out 278 ; he went to Capernaum, 280 ; an
the cattle and overthrew the tables, unobstructed year of beneficence, 280
209 is questioned by the officers of
; the popular wonder and admiration,
the Temple, 211 the meaning of his ; 281 ; his preaching in the synagogues,
reply, 214 the coming of Nicodemus
; 282 ; heals a man with an unclean
by night, 215 importance of the con- ; devil, 283 ; withdraws to Peter's house,
versation, 218; omission in John's 284 ; heals the mother-in-law of Peter,
Gospel record of this period, 221 ; con- 284 ; healing at the city gates, 284
jectures upon the subject, 221 ; only the Pharisees silent for a time, 286
mention is that Clirist baptized in Ju- Jesus now made his first circuit
da;a, 223 he early ceased to perform
; through Galilee, 288 ; suggestions of
it, 224 ; the dispute among the dis- routes taken, 288 ; the excitement
ciples " about purifying," 224 the ; everywhere caused, 288 ; Herod's prob-
danger of division between Christ's able impressions, 289 ; the healing of
and John's disciples, 226 ; Christ's re- a leper, 289 ; respect of Jesus for
turn to Galilee, 228 ; Samaria, 236 original Mosaic rites, 290 ; the para-
Jesus at Jacob's well (see Jacob's lytic man lowered through a house
Well) ; went into Galilee, 253 ; heals roof, 293; Jesus forgives his sins,

the nobleman's son at Cajji-ruaum, the excitement of Pharisees present,

254 ; Jesus came to Nazareth, 256 293 ; he declares his power to forgive,

invited to read in the synagogue, 293 ; it was a claim of divinity, 294;

announces the fulfilment of the Scrip- his use of ])arables, 296 ; the perma-
tures, 257 - 260 ; rage of the congrega- nent formation of his disciple family
tion, who take him out to kill him, 260; near Capernaum, 297 ; the miraculous
his escape, 261 ;
probable scene of the draught of fishes, 297 ; calls Simon,
attempt, 262; Capernaum thenceforth James, and John to follow him, 298 ;

the home of Jesus, 264 he again ; visits the call ot Matthew, otherwise Levi,
 ;;; — ;

ANALYTICAL INDEX. 443

298 {see Disciples) ; character of Jesus's 415 his solitary

his life at this time, ;

teaching at this period, 301 ; the Ser- walks about Genesareth, 417; his ser-
mon on the Mount (see Ksermon) ;
mon from a boat, 420 his method of ;

his return to Capernaum, 364 ; heal- teaching and the theory of myths,
ing of the centurion's servant, 364 426 ; some parables considered, 429
the widow's son restored to life, 367 ;
the voice ceased, and the enthusiasm
the effect of this miracle, 368 ; at the of the crowd had gone out, 432.
house of Simon the Pharisee, 369 Jews, their moral nature, 101 ; inequality
the rejientant Magdalene, .369 ; the of condition and precarious existence,
message of John in prison, 372 ; his 161; politiral snl)jection, 162; their
warnings to Beih-^aida, Cliorazin, and glory in the law as God's chosen peo-
Capernaum, 377 ; absence of synijia- ple, 162; priesthood dominated by the
thy from his family connections, 382; Romans, 163; forms of religious de-
his companions at this time, 382 velopment, — the Pharisee, the Saddn-
charges of the Scribes and Pharisees, cee, and the Essene, 163; their social
384 ; his replies, 384 ; he charges tliem hai)its and observances, 184.
with blasphemy, 386 ; they said he Jewish C'/iHfcA, its expected deliverance, 1.

was aided by Beelzebub, 387 ; efforts Jewish Nation, tenderness of Jesus to-

of the Temj)le party to embroil him ward the good of its past, 333.
with his countrymen, 389 ; his attitude Joanna, wife of Herod's steward, 383,402.
in face of tliis danger, 390 ; the cry, John, the forerunner of Jesus, Zacha-
" Is not this the son of David ?
" first rias and Elizabeth, 11-27; his char-

heard, 391 ; the parable of tiie unclean acter in childhooil, 27 ; the prototype
spirit, 392 ; blessing of his mother by of Elias (Elijah) the prophet, 92; in

a woman listener, 393 ; his mother ,

what the similarity consisted, 93 ; his
and hretiiren desire to speak with him, brief history, 92 ; his mission as the

394 ; declares who are his mother and I

forerunner of Jesus, 95 ; his downright
bretiiren, 394; invited to dine by a! earnestness, 95 ; his preaching was
Pharisee, 396 ; is ([uestioned about :
secular, not spiritual, 97 ; his meaning
the washing of hands, 396 ; the Scrii)es of baptism, 99 ; his formula and mean-
and Pharisees urge him to speak of ing of baptism, 99 ; the relation of his
]

many things to accuse him, 397 ; he \ discourses to the spiritual tr iths which
rebukes their inward hypocrisy, 397 ; ; Christ unfolded, 100; John conceived
around the Sea of Galilee, 399; eigiit no new ideal of morality, 100; the
j

j)arables, 400 efforts to embroil him

; effects of his ])reaeiiing, 101 ; excite-
with the people, 403 ; they were un- ment in Jerusalem, 102; is questioned
consciously his I)ody guard, 403 ; the i
by mes.sengers from the Sanhedrim,
Pharisees watched for heresy, 403 ;
« 103; he declares to them the coming
the prudence of his course, 404 ; his (jf Jesus, 103 ; Jesus comes to him for
<liscourse to his disciples before a mul- baptism, 104; the sign from heaven,
titude, as recorded by Luke, 405 ; a 105; the mystery surrounding John,
young man appeals aizainst his brother, 108; his ministry after Christ's bap-
— is warned against covetousness,
'

tism. disj)ufps al>out "purifying," 224;

406 ;
parables, 408 ; is told of the John's noble characier exemplified.
slaughter of the Galileans, 412; the 2i6 ;
jealousy of Ileroil Antipas,
labor of days and weeks epitomi/.e<l in .lojin denounces his wiekeihu'ss and is

the record of this time, 415 ; statement impiisoned, — the demand for his head
by John of ii.s extent, 415 ; ni>inner of, by the daughter of Ilerodias, — liis
 ;

444 ANALYTICAL INDEX.

death, and burial by his disciples, 109 ;

Magdalene, Mart, one of Christ's nt
his burial-place, like that of Moses, tendants, 382.
unknown, 110; analogies in the his- Magi, the, mission to find Jesus, 36 ; the
tory of Moses and John, 110; his guiding star in the cast, 36 ; they
long imprisonment at Macha-rus, 372 ;
worshipped him and presented gifts,

his doubting message to Jesus and the 37 ; return to their homes, 37.
reply, .'n.J ; conduct of the peoj)le to- Manger, what it probably was, 29.
ward him and Jesus, 376 ; the most Mary, the mother of Jesus, the little
perfect lepresentation of his Master's known of her, the light of imagina- —
spirit, 301. tion thrown around her name, 15 ;

Jmdan, the, historical associations, out- the reason why she is reverenced and
shone by the baptism of Christ, 105. worshipped, 15; a mother's love and
Joseph, the carpenter, the Virgin forbearance the nearest image of divine
Mary's espousal to him, 16; he was tenderness which the soul can form,
of the house of David, 20 ; his occupa- 15; the deification of the Virgin by
tion, 27 ; few remaining details of his art, 16 ; the residence, lineage, and es-
history, 27 ; his death probably before pousal of Mary, 1
6 ; the habits and
the public ministry of Christ, 27 ; how associations of her life, 17 ; her famili-
he is represented on pictures of the arity with the Hebrew Scriptures, —
Holy Family, 28 ; sacred history re- she was imbued with their spirit, 18;
lates nothing of him, 68. reality to her of the angelic manifesta-
Judaa maintained the old Jewish stock, tion, 18; her ideas of the promised
dislike of the Samaritans, 160. deliverance of Israel, 20; she went
Judiean Hills, the road along the, — into the city of Juda, to the house of
scenery and memories, 229. Zacharias, 21 , her revelations to Eliza-
Kiiv/dom of Christ, the, not of this world, beth, 23 ; the exalted expectations of
402. both women, 23 ; the song of Mary,
KiTTo's Biblical Cyclopcedia on Christ in 23 ; its similarity with the song of
the synagogue, 257. Hannah, 24 ; Mary's return to Naza-
Lange, on the word " Nazarene," 78. reth, 25 ; the journey to Bethlehem,
Law and the Prophets, Jesus came not to 29 ; the birth of Jesus, 29 ; a cottage
destroy, 331 ; Christ's spiritual ethics probably the place, 29 ; the manger
contested their popular interpretation, was in a cave excavated from the cot-

335. tage, 29 ;coming of the shepherds,

the
Laws, their true relation of servants not 32 ;
purification and thank-offering,
masters, 279. 34 •
the prophecy of Simeon and ot
I>ENTULDS, fictitious letter on appear- Anna, 34 ; the visit of the Magi, 36
ance of Christ, 140. flight into Egypt, and return to Naza-
Leprosy, a description of, 290. reth, 39 ; the most intimate commun-
Levites, the, 83, 87. ion of Jesus was with his mother, 68 ;

Lives of Christ and Harmonies, 5 ; necessi- other children of Joseph and Mary,
ty for new adaptations for every age, 7. 76 ; blessed by a woman among
ford's Prayer, the, 342. Christ's listeners, 393 ; Mary's anxiety
Luke, his motive for writing his Gos- for her son, 393 ; she with his breth-
pel, 4 ; why called the cviuigelist of ren desire to speak with him, 394 ;

Greece, 42. " Who is ray mother? " 394 ; it was a

Macoregor, on the Sea of Galilee, 417, rebuke to them, 395.
420. Massacre oftlte Innocents, 38.
 — .

ANALYTICAL INDEX. 445

Materials for a Life ofJesiis, the Gospels 47 ; more philosophical and simpler
only, — he wrote nothing, 2. views, 48 ; theological discussions are
Matthew, his mental character, 77 ;
mediajval or modern, 48 ; instances of
the term " Nazarene," 77. this, 48, 49 ground taken by the au-
;

Messiah, the, promises and expectations thor, 50 ; the grand results of the in-
of, 14; the popular expectations, carnation, 52.
the real design of Jesus, 172 ; the an- Nazareth, its bad reputation, 60 ; scen-
nunciation of a suffering Messiah, ery, 60 ; scene of attempt to kill Jesus,
174 ; the kingdom of, when at hand, 261 ; W. H. Di.Kon's view of Naza-
414. reth, 262 ; fierceness and unbelief of
Miracles, their rejection leads to Panthe- the townsmen, 263.
ism, 9 ; their character and credibility, Nazarene, a term of reproach, — Mat-
19 ; angelic manifestations and the thew's statement of its reference to
Hebrews, 19 ; relation to a higher law Jesus, 77.
of nature, 1.58; deeper moral signifi- New Life, the Sermon on the Moimt,
cance toward the close of Christ's life, Cln-ist's view of its ethics, 334.

176; the wedding at Cana, 188; at NicoDEMUs, came to Jesus "by night,"
Capernaum, 197 healing the noble- ; 215; mistaken view of his courage,
man's son, 254 the impotent man, ; 216 ; how proved later, 217; spiritual
266 the paralytic man, 276 the man
; ; re-birth explained to him, 218.
with an unclean devil, 283 healing ; Oaths, the Sermon on the Mount, 339.
of Peter's mother-in-law, 284 ; healing Oriental Instruction and its character, 213.
at the city gate, 284 ; healing the leper, Overture of Angels, the, 1 1

289 ; the paralytic man, 292 ; miracu- Palestine, populations and influence of
lous draught of fisiics, 297 ; the hu- wars therein, 160; political condition,

manity of Christ's miracles, 302; the 172.

centurion's servant, 364 resurrection ; Pantheism is atheism, — the miracles, 9.

of the widow's son, 367 ; unfriendly Parables, a favorite device with Jewish
po])ular criticism, 378. teachers, 296 ; their use by Jesus, 296 ;

Moral Beliefs and Convictions, the source the two debtors, 370 ; the unclean
of, 331. spirit, 392 ; the eight spoken in suc-
Moral Teaching, its nature, 423. cession, 400 ; their character and pur-
Mosaic Institutes, 171 their interpreta- ; pose, 400; the advantage and use of
tion, 171 ; Christ's relations toward parables, 401 ; the parable of the
them, 177 ; he never disregarded them, sower, 404, 421 ; the parable of the
290 ; their humanity toward the j)oor, rich man, 407 ; the servants found
37.5. waiting for their lord, 408 ; Peter's
Mother and Brethren, his disciples are such questions as to whom the paraldes re-
to iiim, 394. ferred, 408 ;
paral>le of the unfuitliful
Murder, the Sermon on the Mount, 335. scr\-ant, 409 ; tlw? rigorous creditor,
Myths, the theory of, refuted, 425. 41 1 ;
parable of the fig-tree, 412 ; par-
Naliriti/, differences as to its date, 31. ables as used by .lesus, 426 ; the grain
Nature of Jesur, philosophical views of mustard-seed, 429; the kingilom of
of the Church, 44 ; hiiinanitarian and heaven like unto leaven, 429 unto a ;

rationalistic school and its tendency, net, 429 ; the good .^eed and the tarcx,
44 ; compromi.sc views arc unsatiisfac- 4.10 ; the treasure hid in a field, 431 ;

tory, 45 ; church doctrine of a double the pearl of >;reat price, 431.

nature, 47 ; its services to Christianity, Passover. See Feasts.
 ; ;

446 ANALYTICAL INDEX.

Paul, why called a tent-maker, 296. and the motive, 269 ; their accusations
Peace on earth only reached by con- of Jesus, 384 ; he charges them with
flict, 414. blasphemy, 386 ; rei)uked by Jesus at
Pentecost. See Feasts. the Pharisee's house, 397their meth- ;

Personal Appearaxck of Jesus, the od of seeking to destroy him, 401 ;

difficulty of approacliing the Jewish their popularity, 403 ; their sjiiritual

life in the time of Christ, 134; the blindness, 411. See also Temple.
exalted idea of Jesus and his Divinity Pilate, slaughter of the Galileans, 413.
give an ideal color to his person and Political Tests of Jesus by the Scribes, 402.
appearance, 135 ; the impressions Poor, humanity of the Mosaic institutes
which he made upon his disciples and toward, 375.
countrymen, 136 ; to them he was Prayer, the Lord's, 342.
simply a citizen, and so to his dis- Priests, limited sphere and influence of,

ciples until after the resurrection, 136 86.

a conversation combined from the Prophets, the prophetic nature, 84
Gospels on this ])oint, 136; there is prophets among the Jews, 86 ; inde-
nothing to detcrmiiie the personal ap- pendence of ceremonial usages, 89
pearance of Jesus, 137 men ; the great examjjjes of particular prophets, 91 ;

of Greece and Rome were commemo- highest moods of inspiration, 121 ;

rated in art, 137 ; the disciples were symholization employed by tiie j)ro-

neither literary nor artistic men, — the phetic state, 122; attempted interpre-
Jew was forbidden to make any image tation to modern equivalents, 123.
or likeness of Divinity, 138; the early Proverbs, theBook of, influence upon
Fathers differed as to his comeliness, Christ's discourses, 69.
— tiiey appealed to the prophecies Raising of the Dead, the three instances,
concerning the Messiah, 139 ; the typ- 374.
ical head of Christ, 141 ; the fictitious Rationalism. See Nature of Jesus.
letter of Publius Lentulus, 140; por- Renan, M., on the character of Christ,
traits began to appear in the fourth 10; on his sovereignty of spirit, 276.
century, 140 , they were by Greek Repentance, its true meaning and spirit,

artists, 141 ; their ideal characteristics, 111.

142; the Kcman type, 142; the Italian Retaliation, — Revenge, the Sermon on
masters, 142; the Christ of Michael theMount, 339.
Angelo, and of Leonardo da Vinci, Rociiette, Raoul, lectures on ancient
143 ; the effect of pictures of Jesus art, 125.

upon religion, 144; the grander He- Romans, Christian converts among the,

brew example, 144 there arc glimp- ; 364.

ses of Jesus's personal bearing, 144; Salihath, Jewish laws and observances,
every system of philosophy or religion 267 ; the conflict with the Sanhedrim,
except Christianity can be received 269 ; the plucking of ears of grain,
without knowledge of its founder's 273 ; healing the paralytic, 276 ;
real

person, 144; the genius of Christiani- significance of the controversy, 278;

ty requires a distinct conception of the Sabbath made for man, 279.
Christ's personality, 145. Sacri/ires, 89.
Pharisees, their history and religious Sadducees, their doctrines and relations
tendencies, 163; extract from Dol- toward the people, 168.
LINGER on the Phfirisfes, 163 arraign- St. Augustine on ; the four Evangel-
ment of Jesus for Sabbath-breaking, ists, 5.
 ;;

ANALYTICAL INDEX. 4-i7

Samaria, its population, 160; history Son of Man, significance of the name,
and inhabitants, 235 ; enmity with the 183; by it Christ emphasized his mis-
Jews, 235 ; cordial icccptiou of truth sion, 183.

and hospitality, 253. Son of God, Jesus assumes the title, 271.
Sanhedrim, questions John, the forerun- Song, the, of Mary, 23 of Hannah, 24 ;

ner of Jesus, 103. See also Sablxith. of Zacharias, 26 ; of the pilgrims to

Satan, mediaeval art representations of Jerusalem, 70.
evil spirits, 125; they have corrupted Stanley, on the Mount of the Beati-
the popular ideas to this day, 126; the tudes, 306.
Devil pictured by the monks is de- Star in the East, the, 36.
grading to the narrative, 126 ; a true Susanna, one of Christ's attendants,
conception of the Evil One, 126. 383.
Saviour, Hebrew forms of the name, Synagogues, order of service in the, 257.
105. Tabernacles. See Feasts.
Scribes and Pharisees. See Pharisees. Teachings of Christ, his methods of,

Sermon on the Mount, the Beatitudes, 296.

Mount Hattin, the scene of the Ser- Temperance refonners, and the wedding
mon on the Mount, 305 ; extract from at Cana, 190 wine and alcohols con-
;

Stanley's Sin(ti, 306 ; the various ac- sidered, 191 ; conclusions from Christ's
counts of the sermon, 307 ; contrast example, 193.
between the sermon and the giving of Temple, the, at Jerusalem, 203 ; traffick-
the law from Sinai, 309 ; character ing in, — extent and reason of it,

and purpose of the sermon, 309 207,

" Blessed are the poor in spirit," 316 ;
Temptations of Christ in the wil-
"Blessed are they that mourn," 317 ;
derness, the three narratives, by Mat-
" Blessed are the meek," 318 " Bless- ; thew, Mark, and Luke, 115; place of
ed are they who hunger and thirst the temptations, — erroneously sup-
after righteousness," 320 ;
" Blessed posed to be the mountains of Moab, —
are the mereiful," 321 ;
" Blessed are was one called Quarantania, of the
the pure in heart," 322 ;
" Blessed are line of mountains westward of Jericho,
the peacemakers," 323 ;
" Blessed are 115 accordance of these events with
;

they who are persecuted for righteous- the elder Hebrew nature, 116; light
ness' sake," 325 ; the sermon Jesus's afforded by the visions of Ezekiel,
view of the spiritual ethics of the new 117 ; the forty days' fasting a private
life, 334 where it contested the popu-
; struggle and protection, 117; the si-

lar interpretation of the law, .335 ;

lence of Jesus upon the subject, 117;
murder, 335 ; adultery, .337 ; divorce, his struggles with the powers of the
337 ; oaths, 3.39 ; retaliation, 339 invisible world, an<l his victory, 118;
disinterested benevolence, 341 ; alms- the lielief of his disi-i|)!es, — the teach-
giving, 342 ;
prayer, — the Ixird's ing of the a|H)stIes and the faith of the
Prayer, 342 ; fasting, 350 ; the pur- Christian Church agree as to their
suit of wealth, 351 ;
general consider- reality, 118; the inspiration of com-
ations ujHin the sermon, 353. fort from his victory over the utmost
Shechem, the vale of, and its beauties, that Satan could attempt, 119; the
231 ; connection with great events of nature of prophetic inspiration, 121 ;

Jewish history, 233. the mystery of his pure K-ing, 124 ;

Simeon, the j)r<>plietie raptun.- of, 34. his trials nnd |)ersecutions and con-
Son of David, is not this tlic, 3'JI. sciousness of |)ower, 124; the first
 —

448 ANALYTICAL INDEX.

temptation, " command that these Wealth, the pursuit of, — the Sermon on
stones be made bread," 125 ; Satan, the Mount, 351.
mediaeval and modern representations Weddiwj, the, in Cana, — uncertainty a."

of evil spirits, 125; Rochette's lec- to which Cana, 184; the presence of
tures on ancient art, 1 25 ; the popular Jesus and its significance, 184 social ;

idea of Satan to this day, 126 ; a true and joyous habits of the Jews, 184;
conception of the Evil One, 1 20 ; the the scene described, 1 85 ; sobriety of
prophetic synil>olisni of tiie first tempta- sucli occasions, 185; Christ's geni-
tion, 127 ; the second temptation, "cast ality as a guest, 187; the wine ex
thyself down from hence," 129 ; its hausted, 188; the first miracle, 189;
appeal to the love of praise and the the character of the wine, 190 ; Con-
principle of admiration in the multi- gregational Review on Rev. W. M.
tude, 129; the third temptation, the Thayer's " Communion Wine," &c.,
mountain-top, — its tremendous force, 190 ; wine and alcohol considered,
130; considerations of the theories of 191 ; the conclusions to be drawn from
the temptations, 131 ; the objections Christ's example, 193.
to the literal history, — why the the- Weddings among the Jews, 185.
ory of a symbolic vision is preferable, Wine. See Wedding in Cana.
132; the practical benefit of this pas- Woman, Christ's humanity toward the
sage in the life of Jesus, 133. sinning, 249.
Thief, the, that cometh in the night, WooLSEY, President, on the mother
408. and brethren of Jesus, 394.
Thompson, the missionary, on caves in Zacharias, the priest, and his wife
Palestine, 29 ; on leprosy, 290. Elizabeth, 11 his life and duties, 12;
;

Twelve Tribes. See Feasts. the angel of the Lord appears to him,

. Unbelief of the people's leaders, Christ's 12; the promise of a son, 13 ; Zacha-
severity towards, 366. rias doubts and is stricken dumb, 13 ;

Van de Velde, on Palestine and the their hopes of a Messiah, 14; return
vale of Shechem, 231. to the "hill country," 14 ; arrival of

Virgin, deification of the, by art, 16. Mary, 21 ; the birth and naming of
Watchiiuj for the Lord, 408. John, 25; his lips were unsealed,
Water, its ceremonial use, 223. his song of thanksgiving, 26 ; his

Waier vessels among the Hebrews, 189. prophecy of John's greatness, 27.

END OF PART I.
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This book is

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