VII. senes. ticism, or in some instances in the colder philo- CHAP. sophy of the Greeks. For these Jesus was as much too plain and popular, as he was too gentle and peaceable for the turbulent. He was scarcely more congenial to the severe and ascetic practices of the Essene, than to the fiercer followers of the Galilean The EsJudas. Though the Essene might admire the exquisite purity of his moral teaching, and the uncompromising firmness with which he repressed the vices of all ranks and parties; however he might be prepared for the abrogation of the ceremonial law, and the substitution of the religion of the heart for that of the prevalent outward forms, on his side he was too closely bound by his own monastic rules his whole existence was recluse and contemplative. His religion was so altogether unfitted for aggression, as, however apparently it might coincide with Christianity in some material points, in fact its vital system was repugnant to that of the new faith. Though, after strict investigation, the Essene would admit the numerous candidates who aspired to unite themselves with his coenobitic society, in which no one, according to Pliny's expression, was born, but which was always full, he would never seek proselytes, or use any active means for disseminating his principles; and it is worthy of remark, that almost the only quarter of Palestine which Jesus does not appear to have visited, is the district near the Dead Sea, where the agricultural settlements of the Essenes were chiefly situated. While the mass of the community were hostile CHAP. to Jesus, from his deficiency in the more imposing, the warlike, the destructive signs of the Messiah's power and glory; from his opposition to the genius and principles of the prevailing sects; from his want of nationality, both as regarded the civil independence and the exclusive religious superiority of the race of Abraham; and from their own general incapacity for comprehending the moral sublimity of his teaching; additional, and not less influential, motives, conspired to inflame The Rulers. the animosity of the Rulers. Independent of the dread of innovation, inseparable from established governments, they could not but discern the utter incompatibility of their own rule with that of an unworldly Messiah. They must abdicate at once, if not their civil office as magistrates, unquestionably their sovereignty over the public mind; retract much which they had been teaching on the authority of their fathers, the wise men; and submit, with the lowest and most ignorant, to be the humble scholars of the new Teacher. With all this mingled, no doubt, a real apprehension of offending the Roman power. They could not but discern on how precarious a foundation rested not only the feeble shadow of national independence, but even the national existence. A single mandate from the Emperor, not unlikely to be precipitately advised, and relentlessly carried into execution, on the least appearance of tumult, by a governor of so decided a character as Pontius Pilate, might annihilate at once all that remained of their civil, and even of their religious, constitution. If we VII. look forward we find that, during the whole of CHAP. the period which precedes the last Jewish war, the ruling authorities of the nation pursued the same cautious policy. They were driven into the insurrection, not by their own deliberate determination, but by the uncontrollable fanaticism of the populace. To every overture of peace they lent a willing ear; and their hopes of an honourable capitulation, by which the city might be spared the horrors of a storm, and the Temple be secured from desecration, did not expire, till their party was thinned by the remorseless sword of the Idumean and the assassin, and the Temple had become the stronghold of one of the contending factions. Religious fears might seem to countenance this trembling apprehension of the Roman power, for there is strong ground, both in Josephus and the Talmudic writings, for believing that the current interpretation of the prophecies of Daniel designated the Romans as the predestined destroyers of the Theocracy. And however the more enthusiastic might look upon this only as one of the inevitable calamities which was to precede the appearance and final triumph of the Messiah, the less fervid faith of the older and more influential party was far more profoundly impressed with the *It is probable that in the allusion of Jesus to the “abomination of desolation," the phrase was already applied by the popular apprehensions to some impending destruction by the Romans. Τὸν αΰτον τρόπον Δανίηλος καὶ περὶ τῶν Ρωμαιῶν ἡγεμονίας ανέγραψε, καὶ ὅτι ὑπ ̓ αὐτῶν ἐρημωθήσεται. Ant. x. 2. 7., and in the Bell. Jud. iv. 6. 3., the poprela CHAP. Demeanour of Jesus. dread of the impending ruin, than elated with the remoter hope of final restoration. The advice of Caiaphas, therefore, to sacrifice even an innocent man for the safety of the state, would appear to them both sound and reasonable policy. We must imagine this suspense, this agitation of the crowded city, or we shall be unable fully to enter into the beauty of the calm and unostentatious dignity with which Jesus pursues his course through the midst of this terrific tumult. He preserves the same equable composure in the triumphant procession into the Temple and in the Hall of Pilate. Every thing indicates his tranquil conviction of his inevitable death; he foretells it with all its afflicting circumstances to his disciples, incredulous almost to the last to this alone of their Master's declarations. At every step he feels himself more inextricably within the toils; yet he moves onwards with the selfcommand of a willing sacrifice, constantly dwelling with a profound, though chastened, melancholy on his approaching fate, and intimating that his death was necessary, in order to secure indescribable benefits for his faithful followers and for mankind. Yet there is no needless exasperation of his enemies; he observes the utmost prudence, though he seems so fully aware that his prudence can be of no avail; he never passes the night within the city; and it is only by the treachery of one of, his followers that the Sanhedrin at length make themselves masters of his person. The Son of Man had now arrived at Bethany, and we must endeavour to trace his future pro VII. of chrono ceedings in a consecutive course*; but if it has been СНАР. difficult to dispose the events of the life of Jesus, in the order of time, this difficulty increases as Difficulty we approach its termination. However embar- logical arrassing this fact to those who require something rangement. more than historical credibility in the evangelical narratives, to those who are content with a lower and more rational view of their authority, it throws not the least suspicion on their truth. It might almost seem, at the present period, that the Evangelists, confounded as it were, and stunned with the deep sense of the importance of the crisis, however they might remember the facts, had in some degree perplexed and confused their regular order. At Bethany he took up his abode in the house of Jesus at Simon, who had been a leper, and, it is not impro- Bethany. bably conjectured, had been healed by the wonderful power of Jesus. Simon was, in all likelihood, closely connected, though the degree of relationship is not intimated, with the family of Lazarus, for Lazarus was present at the feast, and it was conducted by Martha his sister. The fervent devotion of their sister Mary had been already indicated on two occasions; and this passionate zeal, now heightened by gratitude for the recent restoration of her brother to life, evinced itself in her breaking an alabaster box of very costly perfume, and anointing his head ‡, according, as we have seen * Matt. xxi. 1.; Mark, xi. 1.; Luke, xix. 28.; John, xii. 1. + Matt. xxvi. 1-13.; Mark, xiv. 3—9.; John, xii. 1-11. (We fol low St. John's narrative in placing |