THE MALTREATMENT OF JESUS.

We have made these remarks preparatory to our return to the record of Luke. The 63d verse of his twenty-second chapter reads thus, "And the men that held Jesus mocked him, and smote him."

Now it is to be observed, that Matthew and Mark place the maltreatment of Jesus after the opinion had been expressed by the council, that "he was guilty of death." Luke, however, seems to place the maltreatment before that expression of opinion. The discrepancy is easily reconciled upon the hypothesis of two sittings of the Sanhedrim. Luke passes over the preliminary trial in the house of Caiaphas, and records only the more formal proceedings in the room gazith, of the temple. Matthew and Mark relate the trial in the palace of the high-priest, and pass over the arraignment of Christ in the Sanhedrim-room, to hear his sentence. Omissions are not contradictions. Matthew and Mark do not contradict Luke, when he says expressly, that "As soon as it was clay, the elders of the people, and the chief priests, and the scribes, came together, and led him into their council." On the contrary, we have seen that Matthew incidentally confirms this statement, by his allusion to the interview between Judas and these same chief priests and elders, within the precincts of the temple. Luke, moreover, does not contradict Matthew and Mark, in what they tell of the informal proceedings against our Lord in the house of Caiaphas. On the contrary, by placing the maltreatment of Jesus before the removal of the court to the council chamber, he has incidentally confirmed their direct declarations. It is unnatural to suppose that the menials or officials about his sacred person would have dared to offer him so many indignities, before they heard the opinion of their superiors that he was worthy of death. It is true that John tells us of his being struck in the very presence of the high-priest; but this blow was given in a moment of anger, and for an alleged want of respect to the high-priest. We think it altogether unlikely that Caiaphas, with his strict attention to legal technicalities, would have permitted a series of outrages to be perpetrated upon his prisoner, before the informal decision was given.

The Romans were accustomed to treat condemned criminals with the utmost barbarity. It was common with them to scourge sentenced malefactors, before putting them to death. The Jews, from their long intercourse with their conquerors, had doubtless learned to borrow some of their notions, and to imitate at least their worst customs. Men are ever prone to imitate evil rather than good; and as the Jews had the example of the Romans for the maltreatment of those under sentence of death, Caiaphas could easily reconcile to his strangely constituted conscience the wanton insults to Christ, after the Sanhedrim had pronounced him to be worthy of death. He would most likely have interfered to prevent this treatment, had it occurred before the informal action of the council. Nor do we think it at all improbable that the misusage of Christ first began with the Roman soldiers. Luke explicitly tells us that the cruel sport was started by the men who held Jesus. And we have already seen the anxiety of the Jewish rulers to get our Lord into the hands of the Romans. It is exceedingly probable then, that Caiaphas committed the keeping of our Lord to those soldiers from the garrison of Antonia, who accompanied the arresting party to Gethsemane. If so, the high-priest would not feel himself called upon to interrupt these custodians of Christ in a course of conduct, which, however unjust and improper, was entirely consonant with their customs and ideas of propriety. And when the servants and retainers of the high-priest joined the Romans in their wicked fun, he could still justify his non-interference, upon the ground that the Romans, who led the way in the deviltry, would be offended at any expression of disapprobation of their proceedings.

61. The point, which we make here, is one of great importance. There seemed to be an irreconcilable discrepancy between Luke and the first two Evangelists. But the hypothesis of two sittings of the Sanhedrim has brought harmony out of disagreement. Yea, it has done more; it has shown that what seemed difference, was really coincidence of the most delicate and convincing character. Luke incidentally confirms what Matthew and Mark say of the informal sentence against Christ, by placing the maltreatment of Christ in the house of Caiaphas. Matthew confirms what Luke says of the adjournment of the court to the council-room, by an incidental allusion to an interview between Judas and the chief priests, within the walls of the temple.

It is utterly impossible to exhibit stronger proof of the reliability of evidence than is here presented by an examination of the testimony of the first three Evangelists. The agreement between them is perfect, and yet so casual and undesigned as to preclude the suspicion of collusion. The fact that so much difficulty has been felt and acknowledged by those who have attempted to reconcile them, proves, incontestably, that the very last thing thought of by the witnesses, was the harmonizing of their statements. Our solution of the difficulty removes it entirely, and throws the burden of proof upon the objector. Every plausible explanation of an alleged discrepancy knocks down one prop of his system of error. He has to go to work and try to build it up. He has to go to work to show that the explanation does not cancel the discrepancy. For (we cannot too strongly reiterate it) the presumption is always in favour of the truthfulness of witnesses. It is incumbent on him who denies their veracity, to show that their statements are inconsistent, improbable, or contradictory.

The Evangelists, in their account of the maltreatment of our blessed Saviour, have exhibited the progressive nature of wickedness in the most natural manner. Never was "the mirror held up to nature" in a more undesigned manner. The verse above quoted from Luke might be rendered "the men that held Jesus made sport of him, striking him." By reference to the other Evangelists, we find that they began their cruel sport with spitting upon him, then as their blood warms with their devilish mischief, they buffet him, and strike him with the palms of their hands. And so their appetite for wrong-doing grows with the things that it feeds upon; until at length, those who had mocked, and insulted, and struck him in a sort of infernal by-play, while in the house of Caiaphas, exhibit the most monstrous ferocity before the judgment-hall of Pilate. The men, who had been content with derision and buffoonery, now cry aloud for blood, and raise the fierce shout, "Away with him! Crucify him! crucify him!" Father in heaven, is this a true picture of thy fallen creatures? Is wicked fun so soon changed into malignant hate? Is malicious sport so soon changed into murderous violence? Is godless merry-making so soon changed into "fire-brands, arrows, and death?" Is the profane jest so soon changed into the howl for blood? Alas! we know too well how the carousing and festivity of sinners generally terminate. And yet what eloquent pleas are made for innocent sports and harmless fun, as though there could be anything innocent and harmless without the blessing of God upon it!

But our object has been to call attention to the natural stroke given us by the Evangelists in their exhibition of the rapid downward progress of the wicked. The wretches, who surrounded our Lord, were satisfied at first with raillery and rough pleasantry, but grew fiercer and fiercer by their indulgence in violence, until nothing will appease their morbid craving for fresh excitement, but the mortal agony of their insulted victim. History and experience confirm what the gospel writers have taught incidentally in regard to the quick advance in crime. The brothers of Joseph were first jealous of him, next they hated him; and, finally, they wished to slay him. "Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing!" was the indignant reply of Hazael, when told by the prophet of the atrocities that he would commit. And yet Hazael advanced step by step in wickedness, until he had perpetrated all the enormities which had been predicted. "When King Saul had once disregarded the divine authority in his treatment of the Amalekites, there were no bounds to the evil workings of his mind. Full of jealousy, envy, and malignity, he murders a whole city of innocent men; repairs to a witch for counsel; and at the last, with his own hands, puts an end to his miserable life. . . . . And so too with David — having first outraged decorum, he betakes himself to intrigue, in hope to cover his crime: and when this fails him, he has recourse to murder; and this being accomplished, the horrible event is, with an air of affected resignation, ascribed to Providence: ' The sword devoureth one, as well as another'! Nor is this the only instance wherein that which began in a wanton look, has ended in blood."' — Andrew Fuller.

But turning from sacred history, (whose authority the infidel does not recognize,) we can find numerous instances given by profane writers, of the progress of sin.

The appetite for blood was not developed in a day, in the monster Nero. When the first death-warrant was brought to him for his signature, he said that he wished that he had never learned to write, so that he might have been spared the painful duty of sanctioning a single execution. And this was the speech of him who afterwards fed his wild beasts with the bodies of Christians, thrown in alive to them. This was the speech of him to whom, in after years, the sweetest music was the cranching of the bones of those " of whom the world was not worthy." And thus too was it with the bloodthirsty wretch Caligula. The first eight months of his reign were distinguished for moderation, mercy, and justice. And so too was it with Commodus, who has perhaps gained a more infamous notoriety than any of the other emperors that proved a curse to Rome and to the world. " During the first three years of his reign, the forms, and even the spirit of the old administration were maintained by those faithful counsellors to whom Marcus had recommended his son, and for whose wisdom and integrity Commodus still entertained a reluctant esteem. The young prince and his favourites still revelled in all the license of power; but his hands were yet unstained with blood; and he had even displayed a generosity of sentiment which might perhaps have ripened into solid virtue. A fatal incident decided his fluctuating character." — Gibbon. But the luxurious inclinations and sensual appetites of the young sovereign had already hardened his heart, and prepared the way for his bloody career; and therefore it was that "his cruelty, which at first obeyed the dictates of others, degenerated into habit, and at length became the ruling passion of his soul." And thus too was it with most of the incarnate fiends who, under the illustrious title of Caesar, made themselves drunk with the blood of their subjects. Few of them grew up immediately to the full stature of giants in iniquity. Slow and almost insensible was their progress in sin, until they became monsters of depravity and cruelty.

And if we come down to the darkest and most melancholy chapter of the world's history — that which records the French Revolution — we will find the same rapid progression in crime. Not one of the ruthless actors in the dreadful scenes of that period seems to have been born with a naturally ferocious disposition. Danton may perhaps constitute an exception; and yet the hands of Danton were not so deeply imbrued with blood as were those of Barrere, whose natural disposition was mild and amiable. "A man who, having been blessed by nature with a bland temper, gradually brings himself to inflict misery on his fellowcreatures with indifference, with satisfaction, and at length with hideous rapture, deserves to be regarded as a portent of wickedness; and such a man was Barrere. . . . . He tasted blood, and felt no loathing; he tasted it again, and liked it well. Cruelty became with him, first a habit, then a passion, at last a madness. So complete and rapid was the degeneracy of his nature, that within a very few months from the time when he passed for a good-natured man, he had brought himself to look on the despair and misery of his fellow-creatures with a glee resembling that of the fiends whom Dante saw watching the seething pitch in Malebolge. He had many associates in guilt; but he distinguished himself from them all by the bacchanalian exultation which he seemed to feel in the work of death. He was drunk with innocent and noble blood; he laughed and shouted as he butchered, and howled strange songs, and reeled in strange dances, amidst the carnage." — Macaulay. And this reveller in blood was considered, until past his thirtieth year, a mild, gentle, and humane man! The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked — who can know it?

The loveliest cities are sometimes desolated by an eruption of fiery lava, which had lain for ages unseen and unsuspected beneath the fairest surface; but which had, all the while, been slowly eating away the crust of earth that restrained it. So, in the bosom of every unregenerate man, there is a seething mass of corruption, which, when the restraints of God's providence are removed, will burst forth into the most desolating wickedness. Maximilian Robespierre, before the seed of evil in him had been germinated by the atrocities of the Revolution, was distinguished for his tenderness to his brother and sister. Desmoulins, who severed by the guillotine the marriage ties of so many of the noblest men in France, might have lived and died in any other period of history, remarkable only for his ardent attachment, and faithful devotion to his beautiful and accomplished wife. And what a fearful thing it is to reflect that the sanguinary St. Just, the blasphemer Clootz, the obscene Chaumette, and all of the infernal Jacobin Club, were once innocent babes, and were hushed to sleep on the breasts of gentle mothers! We are prone to think of them as devils let loose from the pit of darkness, and to forget that they once romped about in all the exuberance of childish delight, and boyish glee. Ah, how little are we inclined to remember that the children who gladden our hearts by their sinless mirth, and cheer us by their bursts of innocent laughter, have within them the elements of a depraved nature, which may be developed into the most blood-thirsty ferocity, and heaven-daring impiety! Slowly, but surely, will Satan and sin work their eternal ruin, unless God interpose with his sovereign grace. thou that keepest thy covenant with thy people, take charge of the little ones of the flock!

But if the degeneracy of individuals be thus rapid, how much more so is that of communities! There is always a demoralizing influence in numbers. This is due to various causes. The majority in assemblages of men are generally godless, hence the balance is against truth and righteousness. Add to this, the inclination to imitate evil rather than good, and the preponderance of the majority becomes tremendous. Throw into the account, also, the natural desire for preeminence, which makes men unwilling to be outstripped even in wickedness. " The workers of iniquity boast themselves;" yea, they will boast of their iniquity to one another, when they have no nobler object of ambition. Add once more, the encouragement to sin afforded by the presence, the sympathy, and the counsel of evil companions. " They encourage themselves in an evil matter," was the experience of David in his day, and has been the experience of the world in every age. "Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend." And so it is, whether the sharpening be for weal or for woe, for happiness or destruction. "As in water face answereth to face, so the heart of man to man." Yes, a true image will be reflected back, whether the features be hideous with vice, or lovely with virtue.

All the causes enumerated above, and many others, combine to accelerate the progress in wickedness of promiscuous gatherings of men. How often have mobs, which had assembled with a comparatively harmless design, proceeded to the most outrageous acts of indecency and cruelty, after they had stimulated one another with a recital of real or imaginary grievances, and encouraged one another in violence and wrong-doing! How often do they begin with a little playful rudeness, and end with pouring out blood like water!

62. We have called in history and experience to prove that the Evangelists have not done violence to nature, in their representation of the conduct of those who maltreated our adorable Redeemer. On the contrary, their representations entirely correspond with all that is known of the rapid progress of vice. But, alas! unbelief will not see, and will not admire the truthful picture presented by the sacred writers. So far from it, the very men who extol the genius of Hogarth in exhibiting by a series of paintings the "Hake's Progress," from the first slight departure from virtue to the last crowning act of guilt, can see nothing to commend in the same truthful representation by the Evangelists of the ever downward course of sin. History and experience go for nothing with the poor benighted infidel. Philosophy herself may come forward and show that the Evangelists describe the laws governing the moral world, just as she describes the laws governing the physical world. She teaches that falling bodies descend with an ever accelerating velocity; they teach that the wicked run the downward road to hell with an ever-quickening speed. All this harmony of the gospels with history, with experience, and with nature, will have but little weight with the deluded sceptic. But the child of God will have his faith strengthened by it, and will be the better enabled to "give to every man a reason for the hope that is in him," of the blessed truths of the book divine. His faith, too, will be more firmly established, by observing how little design there is in the harmony. The Evangelists give their evidence like men too much in earnest to tell their own tale, to be concerned about harmonizing with anybody, or with anything. They have, with a few rapid touches, given us a faithful portrait of human nature; but they have done this in such an artless manner, that the most brazen effrontery cannot charge them with preconcerted design.

We will now examine the maltreatment of our Lord in detail. Matthew says, " Then did they spit in his face, and buffeted him; and others smote him with the palms of their hands, saying, Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, who is he that smote thee?" We learn from this that two distinct sets of persons were engaged in the outrages upon our Lord. The one set began the wicked sport by spitting on him, as a mark of contempt, and then proceeded to buffet him. The other set smote him with the palms of their hands, and demanded him to designate the smiters. Who were these two sets of persons? We cannot find out from Matthew who they were. Neither can we find out, from anything that he has said, how it would be difficult for Christ to point out those who smote him. He required but the use of his eyes to see them. Why then did his tormentors assume that the spirit of prophecy was requisite, in order to know who they were? Let us see whether Mark throws any light upon these points. His account is as follows: "And some began to spit on him, and to cover his face, and to buffet him, and to say unto him, Prophesy; and the servants did strike him with the palms of their hands."

Mark, then, answers explicitly one of our questions. The second set were servants, probably the servants of the high-priest. But still we are left in ignorance as to the first set. Here, however, as we have already seen, Luke supplies the deficiency, and tells us that the first set were those who held Jesus — most likely Roman soldiers. A comparison of Mark with Matthew, will remove the other difficulty. We observe that while both Evangelists agree in saying, that the first set spit on Jesus, and buffeted him, Mark mentions a circumstance omitted by Matthew. He tells us that the first set covered our Lord's face. Hence, he could only tell who smote him, by being imbued with the prophetic spirit, So then, Mark clears up the obscure passage in Matthew, but his own narrative would be just as unintelligible, if left by itself. Note that he says that they commanded Jesus to prophesy, but he does not tell what they required him to prophesy about. These mutual omissions are readily accounted for, upon the supposition that the Evangelists were honest and truthful men. We explain them, by saying, That they arose from the excess of familiarity of both writers with the whole subject. Men who are thoroughly conversant with any matter themselves, are very apt to assume unconsciously some degree of knowledge on the part of their hearers, and to make most important omissions in their narratives. But how can the infidel account for these palpable omissions, with his theory of a cunningly devised fable?

63. On summing up our evidence, we see that we have a beautiful specimen of independent, but concurrent statements. Luke tells us who were the ruffians that began the assault on Jesus; but does not tell who took up the infernal amusement, and continued it. Mark does not say who started the cruel fun, but explicitly states that the servants prosecuted it, after it was once begun. Moreover, Mark speaks of a demand to Christ to prophesy, when his face was covered; but he does not say what he was required to prophesy about. For all that appears to the contrary, it might have been about future events, and then, of course, the covering of the face would be no impediment. But now Matthew comes in, who had said nothing about the blindfolding, and tells us that the demand was to prophesy (or say) who was the smiter. So we see that the accounts of the witnesses are, in their individual capacity, obscure, confused, and even unintelligible; but when taken collectively, are clear, complete, and unmistakable. How are we to account for the fact that statements so diverse in themselves, yet when put together, constitute a family group — all bearing the same family likeness.

A far less striking resemblance between the numerous asteroids discovered between Mars and Jupiter, has induced astronomers to ascribe them to a common origin. "It is evident," says a recent writer, "that these small planets sustain to each other a relation different from that of the other members of the solar system. We see a family likeness running through the entire group; and it naturally suggests the idea of a common origin. This idea occurred to the mind of Olbers, after the discovery of the second asteroid, and led to his celebrated theory, that all these bodies originally constituted a single planet, which had been broken into fragments by the operation of some internal force." But whether this theory be true or not, "it seems, nevertheless, difficult to avoid the conclusion that similar causes have operated in determining the orbits of this zone of planets. The most striking peculiarity of these orbits is, that they all lock into one another, like the links of a chain, so that if the orbits are supposed to be represented materially as hoops, they all hang together as one system Indeed, if we seize hold of any orbit at random, it will drag all the other orbits along with it. This feature of itself sufficiently distinguishes the asteroid orbits from all the other orbits of the solar system."

May we not, by parity of reasoning, trace up the gospel narratives to the same source — even the source of eternal truth? We have seen in them a far nicer interlocking than the astronomer discovers in the asteroid paths. We have seen link welded in with link, supporting all the rest, and in turn supported by them.

The next verse (64th,) of the chapter under consideration, is in the words: "And when they had blindfolded him, they struck him on the face, and asked him saying, Prophesy, who is it that smote thee."

Our translators have made a little difference in their rendering of the same word. The blindfolding in the original is expressed by the same word, as that rendered covering, in Mark — covering his face. It has, however, the participle form in Luke, and is a verb in Mark. But, passing over that point, we notice that Mark unequivocally ascribes the demand to prophesy to the first class of tormentors. There can be no doubt that he means to say that those who spit on our Lord, buffeted and blindfolded him, were the same persons. The language of Luke conveys the same impression. Matthew, on the contrary, ascribes with equal distinctness, the demand to prophesy, to the second class of persecutors: "and others smote him with the palms of their hands, saying, Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, who is he that smote thee?" Here then is discrepancy, and that, too, of the very kind which infidelity has gloated over and exulted in. But we will see how little comfort unbebelief can derive from this source. The second set of persecutors were servants; the first set were the custodians of Christ — most likely Roman soldiers. Now, how natural the supposition, that the servants imitated the language, as well as the behaviour of their superiors! How natural to suppose that the menials thought it noble to imitate the Roman taunt, as well as the Roman blow!

So the whole difficulty is removed by the simple hypothesis, that the guard around Christ first began the jeering about his prophetic claims, and that the servants afterwards joined in the jeering, under the impression that it was very witty, or very severe. But we are far from being content with merely cancelling the discrepancy. We trust to be able to show, that there is in the testimony, a fine example of the preservation of individual characteristics, by the respective witnesses. Observe that Matthew puts two words, "thou Christ" in the mouths of the second class of ruffians, which the first class did not use. " Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, who is he that smote thee?" Now, remember that this second class was composed of servants, Jewish menials. We do not care to enter into the discussion of the proper meaning of the word rendered " servants." It matters not whether they were the servants of Caiaphas, or the attendants of the Sanhedrim, or the guard of the temple. John vii. 45. At any rate, they were Jews, men to whom the nature, the office, and the dignity of the Christ, were perfectly familiar. From his earliest childhood, the Jew was accustomed to hear of the Christ — the promised Messiah — the expected deliverer of his nation. These menials, servants or officials, (call them by what name you please) knew full well that the Christ was to be a prophet like unto Moses. " The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a prophet from the midst of thee, of thy brethren, like unto me; unto him shall ye hearken." Deut. xviii. 15. Therefore, they knew full well that when Jesus of Nazareth claimed to be the Christ, he also claimed to be the Prophet foretold by Moses. There was then a devilish sarcasm in connecting the words, "thou Christ," with the command, "Prophesy unto us." But this sarcasm could only have entered into the mind of a Jew. It would have had no point, no force, no meaning, to one of another nation. Hence the Roman soldiers, who first taunted our Lord with his claim as a prophet, did not employ the words, "thou Christ." Their whole system of mythology made them familiar with the idea of a prophet, but they had no conception of a Christ.

We see from this, that Matthew has given us a natural stroke, marking the line between Jew and Gentile, discriminating between the Romans and those of his own nation. The faithful representation by the Evangelist, of a national characteristic, is no mean proof of his reliability; and this proof is greatly strengthened by the undesigned, spontaneous manner in which it is given. But we will not even let the argument rest here. We will show that Luke teaches directly, what Matthew only teaches inferentially, in regard to the different phraseology employed by the Jews and Romans, in their reviling of our blessed Redeemer. If we go forward in the narrative, to that dreadful scene on Calvary, we will observe a marked distinction in the epithets of derision. Luke says, "And the rulers also with them (the people) derided him, saying, He saved others; let him save himself, if he be Christ, the chosen of God. And the soldiers (Roman) also mocked him, coming to him, and offering him vinegar, and saying, If thou be the King of the Jews, save thyself." Here is the very distinction that Matthew had previously made. The idea of "the Christ" is still prominent in the mind of the Jews, and they jeer Jesus of Nazareth with his vain claim to that title. The Romans knew nothing of the Messiah; they join in the scurrility; they join in giving a mocking appellation of honour — but this is "King," and not "Christ." How naturally, how artlessly have the Evangelists brought out national peculiarities. The Jewish scoffer upbraids the Sufferer with his pretension to be the Christ; for that was his crime, in the estimation of the Jews. The Roman soldier upbraids him with his claim to kingly authority; for that was his crime, in the estimation of the Romans.

64. A review of our testimony shows that we have a threefold argument for the truth of the witnesses. We have the cancellation of a discrepancy; a natural exhibition of national temper and tone of thought; and a direct, though wholly undesigned, confirmation by Luke, of the inferential teaching of Matthew.

We attach more than ordinary importance to the point just made. Matthew puts into the mouth of the second class of tormentors, words which a Jew alone would have thought of using, and which a Jew alone would have thought of recording. But Matthew does not tell us that these ruffians were Jews; we are indebted to Mark for that information. Now, according to the scheme of infidelity, Mark gave this information in order to give consistency to Matthew's lie; and Luke put similar language in the mouth of the scoffers around the cross, in order to give consistency to the joint lies of Matthew and Mark. The man who can believe this double absurdity, does not reject the gospel from any lack of credulity in his composition. Alas! how sad the reflection, that unbelievers are unbelievers of truth alone; and that they can give credence to any system of error, delusion, and wickedness. Thousands of miserable wretches in France, at the close of the last century, treated the word of God as a myth, a fable, an imposture, but to believe in all the wild dreams, the vagaries, the extravagancies, and the prophecies of the mad fanatic, Catharine Theot. Jesus of Nazareth rejected for a crazy woman! And this is the gain of infidelity! How fearfully does the Father avenge the insult to his co-equal Son!

The 65th verse of the twenty-second chapter of Luke reads thus: "And many other things blasphemously spake they against him."

None of the other Evangelists contain a similar comment upon the conduct of those who maltreated our precious Saviour. Notice, moreover, that Luke's comment is upon the language, and not upon the acts of the persecutors. To arrive at a right understanding of the state of mind which prompted the Evangelist to make this remark, we must go forward a little in his narrative. We will find, by comparing his record of the proceedings in the temple with his record of the preliminary trial in the house of Caiaphas, that he has made a singular omission in both cases. He does not mention the appeal of the high-priest to his colleagues — "Ye have heard his blasphemy." But his very omission furnishes an unanswerable argument for the credibility of the gospel narratives. How did Luke get the idea of blasphemy in his mind? Was he not thinking at the very time he penned the above paragraph, that they who charged Jesus with blasphemy, were themselves the real blasphemers? To this it may be objected, that it was exceedingly natural for Luke to comment on the maltreatment of our Lord. Yes, but it scarcely seems natural that he should comment on the opprobrious words, and not on the outrageous acts — the spitting the buffeting, and the smiting with the palms of the hands. We must, therefore, ascribe the language of Luke to some other cause than naturalness. The real cause, it seems to us, was his recollection that Jesus had been accused of blasphemy — "he hath spoken blasphemy." The charge against Jesus was on account of his words. The Jews often tried to wrest his words to his own destruction. Never did they dare to try to entrap him into unlawful deeds. The false witnesses brought no accusation against him, of even a single wrong deed in his public and private life. Caiaphas himself sought to condemn him by his words. There was no act of that sinless career which the malignant high-priest could censure. And therefore, he sought to secure a judgment against our Lord, for the utterances of the mouth, and not for the works of the hand. The artful villain succeeded in his infernal design, and the Son of God was judged worthy of death, on account of the confession of his own lips. "With this in his mind, Luke makes the natural comment, that although his Master was informally condemned for words of alleged blasphemy, yet the real blasphemous expressions were spoken, not by him, but by his tormentors.

There is a consideration which greatly strengthens the view just taken of the language of Luke. Many of the incidents connected with the arrest, the trial, the condemnation, and the suffering of Christ, furnish a broad and affecting contrast of weakness and power, of the real and the false. He, who could have commanded twelve legions of angels, was deserted by his twelve disciples. He whose mere presence was sufficient to overthrow the arresting party, stood, a few moments after, a helpless, bound prisoner in the midst of them. The Prophet foretold by Moses was first accused by the false witnesses, on account of the words of his own prophecy. The real High-Priest of Israel was arraigned at the bar of the high-priest in type. The King of kings and Lord of lords was brought before Pilate, the representative, the shadow of an earthly monarch. One more instance presents this contrast in a still more striking light. Olshausen has adduced sufficient proof to make it at least very probable, that the given name of Barabbas was Jesus, and that the other was his surname. At any rate, the word Barabbas means, "Son of the Father." And so the Jews preferred the robber and murderer, the son of an earthly father, to the holy, harmless, and undefiled Son of God. "It is a most striking circumstance," says the learned German critic, "that two Jesuses should have thus met, and that Pilate's question should have taken the form, whether do you wish that I should release that Jesus who is called Christ, or that one who is called Barabbas?' How applicable the words 'ludit in humanis Divina potentia rebus' to this transaction! We find more than once, particularly in the history of Christ's suffering, similar marvellous instances of providential control in matters apparently unessential. But even the other name, Barabbas, is specially significant — it means ' Son of the Father.' All, therefore, which in the Redeemer existed in essence, appeared in the murderer in caricature. It is not improbable even, that his whole enterprise had been a caricature of the Most Holy; and that probably he had pretended to the plenipotential character of the Messiah. But the blinded multitude, in their phrenzy, chose the hellish caricature in preference to the heavenly original."

The verse that we are considering calls attention to the same sort of contrast — the blasphemers charging the sin of blasphemy on the blasphemed. It is consistent, then, with the whole scope of the respective narratives; and this consistency of narration the infidel is bound to recognize as an argument for the credibility of the witnesses, whether he believe the narratives or not. He must take the record just as it is; and if he find it homogeneous throughout, he is bound, as an honest man, to confess that the homogeneity is against him.

65. The review of our testimony shows that we have a twofold argument for the truthfulness of the Evangelists. Matthew and Mark tell of the charge of blasphemy against our Lord. Luke, who is altogether silent about the charges, uses, nevertheless, an expression which shows that he had it in his mind. This casual correspondence pleads powerfully in favour of the credibility of the witnesses. And if we add the consistency of Luke, in presenting another contrast to the many exhibited in the proceedings against Christ, it is difficult to resist the conclusion, that the writers of the gospel history wrote as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.