t\hv<ixy of ^he trbeolo^ical ^^minavy 
 
 PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY 
 
 From the Library of 
 ^enjamin 3reckinricTp:e Warfield 
 
IMAGO CHRISTI 
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF JESUS CHRIST, 
 
 BY 
 
 / 
 
 IREV. JAMES STALKER, M. A., 
 
 AUTHOR OF •' THE LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST," '' THE LIFE OF ST. PAUL, 
 
 ETC. 
 
 Imago diciiur quasi iniitago. 
 
 Porphyr. Hor. Od. I. xii. 
 
 INTRODUCTION BY REV. WM, M, TAYLOR, D. D., LL. D. 
 
 JVew Tork: 
 A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON 
 
 714 BROADWAY. 
 
COPYRIGHT, 18S9. 
 BY A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The author of the following volume is one jf 
 the most eminent of the younger ministers of the 
 Free Church of Scotland. Educated in his native 
 land, he spent some time in Germany, prosecuting 
 there such studies as he judged to be best fitted to 
 prepare him for his li^e-work in the ministry of 
 the gospel. 
 
 He began his pastoral labors in Kirkcaldy, Fife- 
 shire, and while there attracted wide attention by 
 his eloquence as a preacher and his excellence as 
 an expositor of the Word or God. Two or three 
 years ago he was called to Free St. ]\Iatthew's 
 Church, Glasgow, where by all he is "esteemed 
 very highly in love for his work's sake." He 
 occupies there a place of commanding influence, 
 and by his labors among young people and his 
 active sympathy with evangelistic work, he is prov- 
 ing himself eminently useful. 
 
 All who were present at the Belfast meeting of 
 the Presbyterian Alliance recognized his ability in 
 dealing with a difficult subject; and his volumes on 
 
O INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the "Life of Christ" and the "Life of St. Paul," 
 though issued under the unpretending title of 
 hand-books, are remarkable for their originality 
 of method, clearness of style, comprehensiveness 
 of view, and suggestiveness of matter. 
 
 The same qualities are conspicuous in his treat- 
 ment, in "Imago Christi," of the example of 
 Christ, a subject which he has handled in a way 
 entirely his own and in a spirit of devoutest rever- 
 ence. We commend the work as equally fitted to 
 be a companion for the closet and a directory for 
 
 the life. 
 
 WM. M. TAYLOR. 
 New York, Nov. 23, 1889. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 T F it were permissible, I could truly describe the 
 ^ origin of this book in the very words of 
 Bunyan : 
 
 When at the first I took my pen in hand 
 Thus for to write, I did not understand 
 That I at all should make a little book 
 In such a mode ; nay, I had undertook 
 To make another ; which, when almost done, 
 Before I was aware, I this begun. 
 
 Whilst writing my Life of Christy and reading 
 extensively on the subject, the conviction was borne 
 in upon me that no desideratum more urgently 
 needs to be supplied in our theology than a work 
 on the Mind or Teaching of Christ. For several 
 years I have been working at this task. But, as 
 I went on, my progress was impeded by the fact 
 that, especially in the department of ethics, Jesus 
 seemed to teach as much by His example as by 
 His words ; whereas it was my intention to derive 
 
8 PREFACE. 
 
 His teaching from His words alone. I commenced 
 accordingly to write a little on His example, 
 merely for the purpose of clearing the surplus 
 material out of the way, and without any thought 
 that it would extend beyond a chapter or two. 
 But, as I wrote, it grew and grew, till, almost 
 unawares, the plan of a new book shaped itself 
 in my mind. Recurring to the quaint and pithy 
 language of Bunyan, I may say : 
 
 Having now my method by the end, 
 
 Still, as I pulled, it came ; and so I penned 
 
 It down ; until it came at last to be, 
 
 For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. 
 
 The plan of this book, as it thus, so to speak, 
 made itself, is — to divide the circle of human life 
 into segments, each of which represents an extensive 
 sphere of experience and duty, and then to follow 
 our Lord through them one after another, in order 
 to see how He conducted Himself in each and 
 thereby learn how to conduct ourselves in the 
 same. It is thus a kind of Christian Ethics with 
 a practical and devotional aim. By making the 
 segments smaller, the chapters might easily have 
 been increased in number ; but perhaps no very 
 important part of life has been entirely overlooked. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Each chapter has been written in full view of 
 the whole of our Lord's behaviour, as far as it 
 has been recorded, in the department of human 
 life to which it refers ; and it was at one time 
 my intention to print in full, from the Gospels, 
 all the evidence on each head. I soon found, 
 however, that this would be impracticable, for the 
 evidence turned out to be far more voluminous 
 than I had any conception of ; and to print it in 
 full would have swelled th^ book to double its size. 
 It has been to me a continual astonishment to find 
 how abundant are the materials for tracing out our 
 Lord's example even in what may be considered 
 the less important parts of life ; and I thankfully 
 confess that I have derived from this study a new 
 impression of the wealth which is packed into the 
 narrow circumference of the Four Gospels. On 
 the flyleaf of each chapter I have noted a number 
 of the more important passages ; and this list, 
 although in no case complete, may serve as a 
 starting-point to those who may wish to collect 
 the evidence for themselves. 
 
 I am persuaded that there are many at present 
 in all the churches who are turning earnest eyes 
 to the Example of Christ, and who desire an 
 
lo PREFACE. 
 
 account, derived directly from the records, of how 
 He lived this earthly life which we are living 
 now. They have awakened to the value and 
 solenmnity of time, and feel that the one thing 
 needful is to fill our few and swiftly passing years 
 with a life large and useful and ever more abundant. 
 But it must be a life like Christ's, for His was the 
 best ; and any life, however filled with excitement 
 or success, of which He disapproved, would not 
 seem to them worth living. For such I have 
 written this guide to the imitation of Christ, and 
 I send it forth with the earnest hope that they 
 may be able to find in it, in some degree, the 
 authentic features of the image of the Son of 
 man. 
 
 Glasgow, Se;ptember 27zd, 1889. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. INTRODUCTORY : THOMAS A KE.MPls' IMITATION OF CHRIST 13 
 
 11. CHRIST IN THE HOME 35 
 
 III. CHRIST IN THE STATE . , , . • . • 55 
 
 IV. CHRIST IN THE CHURCH , .71 
 
 V. CHRIST AS A FRIEND ,91 
 
 VI. CHRIST IN SOCIETY I09 
 
 VII. CHRIST AS A MAN OF PRAYER I25 
 
 VIII. CHRIST AS A STUDENT OF SCRIPTURE , . , .145 
 
 IX. CHRIST AS A WORKER . . . . , . . 165 
 
 X. CHRIST AS A SUFFERER 183 
 
 XI. CHRIST AS A PHILANTHROPIST 201 
 
 XII. CHRIST AS A WINNER OF SOULS ..... 221 
 
 XIII. CHRIST AS A PREACHER 24I 
 
 XIV. CHRIST AS A TEACHER 26 1 
 
 XV. CHRIST AS A CONTROVERSIALIST , , . . . 281 
 
 XVI. CHRIST AS A MAN OF FEELING 299 
 
 XVII. CHRIST AS AN INFLUENCE ....... 315 
 
I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY: 
 THOMAS A KEMPIS' IMITATION OF CHRIS! 
 
But Thomas a Kempis ? — the name had come across her in her 
 reading, and she felt the satisfaction, which every one knoivs, of gettin? 
 some ideas to attach to a name that strays solitary in the memory. 
 She took up the little old clumsy book with some curiosity : it had the 
 corners turned down in many places, and some hand, now for ever 
 quiet, had made at certain passages strong pen-and-ink marks, long 
 since browned by time. Maggie turned from leaf to leaf and read 
 where the quiet hand pointed. . . . 
 
 A strange thrill of awe passed through her ivhile she read, as if she 
 had been wakened in the night by a strain of solemn music, telling of 
 beings whose souls had been astir while hers was in stupor. . . . She 
 knezej nothing of doctrines and systems — of mysticism or quietism ; but 
 this voice out of the far-off middle ages zvas the direct co7nmunication 
 of a human soul's belief and experience^ and came to her as an un- 
 questioned message. 
 
 I sttppose that is the reason why the small oldfashioned book, for 
 which you need only pay sixpence at a bookstall, works miracles to this 
 day, turning bitter waters into sweetttess ; while expensive sermons and 
 treatises, newly issued^ leave all things as they wej-e before. It was 
 written down by a hand that waited for the hearts prompting; it is 
 the chronicle of a solita7y, hidden anguish, strtiggle, trust, and triumph 
 — not written on velvet cushions to teach endurance to those who are 
 treading with bleeding feet on the stones. And so it remains to all time 
 a lasting record of human needs and human consolations. 
 
 George Eliot : The Mill on the Floss. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 THOMAS A KEMPIS' IMITATION OF CHRIST, 
 
 NO religious book perhaps, outside the canon of 
 Scripture, has attained so wide a diffusion 
 in the Christian Church as the De Iinitatione Christi 
 of Thomas a Kempis. The only other book which 
 may possibly compete with it in popularity is the 
 Pilgrim's Progress. But the hold on Christendom 
 of the older work is probably more extensive than 
 even that of Bunyan's masterpiece ; for, whilst the 
 picture of Giant Pope must be an obstacle to 
 the access of the Pilgrim to sensitive Catholics, 
 the Imitation is as much read among Protestants 
 as in the Church which claims it as its own, and 
 in the Greek Church it is as popular as in either 
 of the communions of the West. 
 
 I. 
 
 To Protestants it has a peculiar interest from 
 the very fact that it was not written by the pen of 
 a Protestant. It belongs to the beginning of the 
 
l6 IMAGO CHRISTl. 
 
 fifteenth century, and its author flourished a hun- 
 dred years before Luther. It thus belongs to the 
 age which must be accounted the darkest in the 
 whole history of Christianity, when the light of God 
 was well-nigh extinguished by the errors of men. 
 Protestants, indeed, hardly think of the century 
 before the Reformation as a time when Christianity 
 existed at all ; so vast is the accumulation of 
 corruptions which meets the eye, that the reli- 
 gion of Christ almost seems to have disappeared. 
 But this single book corrects this impression. The 
 Imitation of Christ is a voice rising out of the 
 darkness to remind us that the Church of Christ 
 never ceased to exist, but that God had His witnesses 
 and Christ His lovers even in the era of deepest 
 decay. 
 
 The Imitation itself, indeed, bears marks of the 
 evil time in which it arose. There are elements of 
 superstition in it which the modern mind rejects. 
 But these relics of a corrupt age only make the 
 profoundly Christian tone of the whole the more 
 surprising. It throbs throughout with a devotion 
 to Christ which will find its way to the hearts of 
 Christians in every age : 
 
 O my beloved Spouse Christ Jesus, most 
 pure Lover, Ruler of all creation, who will 
 
INTROD UCTOR Y. 17 
 
 give me the wings of true liberty to fly and 
 repose in Thee ? 
 
 O Jesus, Brightness of the eternal glory, 
 Comfort of the pilgrim soul, with Thee are 
 my lips without a voice, and my very silence 
 speaks to Thee. 
 
 How long delays my Lord His coming ? 
 Let Him come to me. His poor servant, 
 and make me glad. Come, come, for with- 
 out Thee there will be no glad day nor 
 hour; forThou art my gladness, and without 
 Thee my table is unspread. 
 
 Let others seek, instead of Thee, what- 
 ever else they please ; nothing else pleases 
 me, or shall please me, but Thou, my God, 
 my Hope, my Eternal Salvation. 
 
 The book overflows with love to the Saviour 
 3 expressed in this impassioned strain ; and one very 
 remarkable thing is that, on the whole, the soul goes 
 straight to Christ without halting at those means of 
 grace which were at that time so often substituted 
 for the Saviour or feeling any need of the inter- 
 cession of the Virgin or the saints, on which so much 
 stress is laid in Catholic books of devotion. This 
 
i8 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 is the healthiest feature of the whole production and 
 must be welcome to every one who wishes to believe 
 that even in that age, when the spirit was buried 
 beneath the forms of worship, there were many souls 
 that reached up through all obstacles to contact with 
 the living Saviour. 
 
 II. 
 
 Obscure as is the external history of the author 
 of the Imitation,^ the reader comes to be on the 
 
 *"The writer of the Imitatio Christi is not known, and 
 perhaps never will be known, with absolute certainty. The 
 dispute about the authorship has filled a hundred volumes, and 
 is still so undecided that the voice of the sweetest and humblest 
 of books has come to us mingled, for the last two and a half 
 centuries, with one of the most bitter and arrogant of literary 
 controversies. ... Of the nine or ten saints and doctors to 
 whom at different times the work has been attributed, the 
 pretensions of three alone can be now said to possess the least 
 germ of probability. These three are a certain Gersen de 
 Cabanis, Thomas Hemerken of Kempen, and Jean de Charlier 
 de Gerson; and the claims of the first of the three . . . may 
 now be considered to be set at rest. 
 
 " The two, then, between whom rests the glory of the author- 
 ship — though in truth earthly glory was the last thing for which 
 the author would have wished — are Thovias a Kempis, sub-prior 
 of the monastery of St. Agnes, in the diocese of Cologne, and 
 Jean Gerso?i, Chancellor of the University of Paris, and one 
 of the grandest figures of his time. 
 
 " The lives of both these saints of God fell in the same dreary 
 epoch. It was that ' age of lead and iron,' of political anarchy 
 and ecclesiastical degradation, of war, famine, misery, agitation. 
 
IN TROD UCTOR Y. 19 
 
 most intimate terms with him. He is a mere 
 shadow to the scientific historian ; but to the devout 
 student his personaUty is most distinct ; his accent 
 is separate and easily detected ; and, notwithstanding 
 the flight and passion of his devotion, there is in 
 him something homely and kindly that wins our 
 affection. Above all, we feel, as we open the book, 
 that we are entering into communion with one who 
 has found the secret of life. Here is one who, after 
 
 corruption, which marked the close of the fourteenth and the 
 beginning of the fifteenth century. Thomas a Kempis, born in 
 1379, died at the age of ninety-two ; Gerson, born in 1363, died 
 at the age of sixty-one. They were thus contemporaries for 
 forty-five years of their lives. But the destinies of the two men 
 were utterly different. 
 
 " Thomas, the son of an artisan, a quiet recluse, a copier of 
 manuscripts, was trained at Deventer, and was received into a 
 monastery in the year 1400 at the age of twenty-one. In that 
 monastery of St. Agnes — va/de devotus^ libenter solus, nuttquaf?i 
 otiosus — he spent seventy-one years of perfect calm, unbroken 
 except by one brief period, in which he fled from his cell rather 
 than acknowledge an archbishop to whom the Pope had refused 
 the pallium. This was almost the sole event of a life in which 
 we are told that it was his chief delight to be alone in angello 
 cum libcllo. 
 
 "Far different from this life, 'in a little corner with a little 
 book,' was the troubled, prominent, impassioned life of Jean 
 Gerson, the Doctor Christianissbnus. Rising while yet young 
 to a leading position, he was appointed Chancellor of the 
 University of Paris before the age of thirty, and, struggling 
 against popes and councils, and mobs and kings, became the 
 stormiest champion of a stormy time. . . . And when all his life 
 seemed to have culminated in one long faiuire . . . then forced 
 
20 IMAGO CHRISTL 
 
 weary wanderings, such as we perhaps are still 
 entangled in, and many conflicts, such as we may 
 still be waging, has attained the peace of God ; and 
 he takes us aside and leads us by the hand to view 
 the land of rest. This is the enduring charm of 
 the book. We all carry in our hearts a secret belief 
 that somewhere in the world there exists a paradise 
 unvexed with the cares by which we are pursued 
 and watered by the river of God ; and whenever 
 
 to see how utterly little is man even at his greatest, and how 
 different are the ways of man's nothing-perfectness from those 
 of God's all-completeness, tjie great Chancellor, who has been 
 the soul of mighty councils and the terror of contumacious 
 popes, takes obscure refuge, first in a monastery of Tyrol, after- 
 wards under the rule of his brother at Lyons, and there, among 
 the strict and humble Celestine monks, passes his last days in 
 humility and submission. Far other thoughts than those of his 
 tumultuous life had been revealed to him as he wandered, in 
 danger and privation, among the mountains of Bavaria, — or, 
 rather, those earlier objects had faded from the horizon of his 
 soul like the burning hues of a stormy sunset; but as, when the 
 sunset crimson has faded, we see the light of the eternal stars, 
 so when the painted vapours of earthly ambition had lost their 
 colouring, Gerson could gaze at last on those ' living sapphires ' 
 which glow in the deep firmament of spiritual hopes. He 
 had been a leader among the schoolmen, now he cares only for 
 the simplest truths. He had been a fierce gladiator in the arena 
 of publicity, now he has passed into the life of holy silence. At 
 his hottest period of strife he had cried out, * Peace, peace, 
 I long for peace ; * now at last there has fallen on his soul — not 
 as the world giveth — that peace that passeth understanding." — 
 Farrar in Compatiiotis of the Devoid Life. 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 one appears whose air assures us that he has 
 Hved in that Eden and drunk of that river, we 
 cannot help welcoming him and listening to his 
 message. 
 
 But where is this happy land ? It is not far 
 away. It is in ourselves : " The kingdom of God 
 is within you." Men seek happiness out of them- 
 selves — in riches or learning or fame, in friendships 
 and family connections, in talking about others and 
 hearing news. They roam the world in search of 
 adventures ; they descend to the bottom of the 
 sea and tear out the bowels of the earth in pur- 
 suit of wealth ; they are driven forth by turbulent 
 passions in search of excitement and novelty ; they 
 fight with one another, because every one, dis- 
 satisfied himself, believes that his brother is making 
 away with his share. But all the time they are 
 stumbling over their happiness, which lies among 
 their feet ; they fly to the ends of the earth in 
 search of it, and lo it is at home. 
 
 Whensoever a man desires anything in- 
 ordinately, he is presently disquieted within 
 himself. The proud and covetous are 
 never at rest. The poor and humble in 
 spirit live in abundance of peace. 
 
2» IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 We might have much peace, if we would 
 not busy ourselves with the sayings and 
 doings of others, and with things which 
 are no concern of ours. 
 
 How can he remain long in peace who 
 entangles himself with the cares of others ; 
 who seekj occasions of going abroad, and 
 is little or seldom inwardly recollected ? 
 
 First keep thyself in peace, and then 
 thou wilt be able to bring others to 
 peace. 
 
 A good peaceable man turns all things 
 to good. Such an one is conqueror of 
 himself, and lord of the world, a friend 
 of Christ, and an heir of heaven. 
 
 These counsels sound like many that the world 
 has heard from others of its teachers. They sound 
 Hke the doctrines of the Stoic philosophers, which 
 ended in making self an arrogant little god ; they 
 sound like the teaching of some in modern times 
 who, looking on the raising of "the pyramid of their 
 own being" as the chief end of existence, have 
 sacrificed to culture the rights of others and the 
 most sacred obligations of morality. The doctrine 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 that the interior man is the supreme object of care 
 may turn into a doctrine of arrogant selfishness. 
 But a Kempis has guarded well against this per- 
 version. He has no maxims more pungent than 
 those directed against the undue exaltation of self 
 When he advises us to turn away from outward 
 things to seek the true wealth and happiness 
 within, it is not in ourselves we ^ are to find it, 
 though it is within ourselves. We have to make 
 an empty space within, that it may be filled with 
 God, who is the only true satisfaction of the 
 soul : 
 
 Know that the love of thyself doth 
 hurt thee more than anything else in 
 the world. 
 
 On this defect, that a man inordinately 
 loves himself, hangs almost all in thee 
 that thou hast to root out and overcome ; 
 and, when this evil has been once con- 
 quered and brought under, soon will there 
 be great peace and tranquillity. 
 
 Christ will come to thee, holding out 
 to thee His consolation, if thou prepare 
 Him a fit dwelling within thee. 
 
 Many a visit does He make to the 
 
24 IMAGO CHRISTi. 
 
 interior man ; sweet is His communication 
 with him, delightful His consolation, great 
 His peace, and His familiarity exceedingly 
 amazing. Give place, then, for Christ, 
 and deny entrance to all others. 
 
 When thou hast Christ thou art rich, 
 and He is sufficient for thee. He will 
 provide for thee and faithfully supply thy 
 wants in all things, so that thou needest 
 not trust to men. 
 
 "Son," says Christ to us, "leave thy- 
 ^ self, and thou shalt find Me." 
 
 III. 
 
 The merits of a Kempis are inimitable and 
 imperishable ; yet the book is not without defects 
 more or less inseparable from the time and the 
 circumstances in which it was written. 
 
 I. There is a defect of the Imitation which 
 lies on the surface and has been often pointed 
 out. Its author was a monk and needed a rule 
 only for the little, monotonous world of the cloister ; 
 we live in the freedom and amidst the perils of a 
 larger world, which needs an example more uni- 
 versal. To a Kempis and his brethren this world 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 25 
 
 was the territory of the Evil One, from which they 
 
 had fled ; they wished to have no deahngs with 
 
 it and had no hope of making it better. " Thou 
 
 oughtest," he says, " to be so far dead to the 
 
 affections of men as to wish, as far as thou canst, 
 
 to be without any human company." Even life 
 
 itself appeared to him an evil : in one of his 
 
 gloomiest pages he says expressly, " It is truly a 
 
 misery to live upon earth." This happily is not 
 
 our creed. 
 
 The world is not a blank to us, 
 Nor blot ; it means intensely, and means good. 
 
 To US it is God's world ; and our vocation is to 
 make God's will be done in all departments of its 
 life and to make His Word run on all its highways 
 and bye-ways. Monasticism was a confession on the 
 part of Christianity of being beaten by the world ; 
 but to-day Christianity is planting its standard 
 on every shore and going forth conquering and to 
 conquer. 
 
 2. Another blemish which has been attributed to 
 it is thus dealt with by Dr. Chalmers in one of his 
 published Letters : " I have been reading Thomas 
 a Kempis recently on the Imitation of Jesus Christ 
 — a very impressive performance. Some would say 
 of it that it is not enough evangelical. He certainly 
 does not often affirm, in a direct and ostensible 
 
26 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 manner, the righteousness that is by faith. But 
 he proceeds on this doctrine, and many an incidental 
 recognition does he bestow upon it ; and I am not 
 sure but that this implies a stronger and more 
 habitual settlement of mind respecting it than 
 when it is thrust forward and repeated, and re- 
 repeated with a kind of ultra-orthodoxy, as if to 
 vindicate one's soundness, and acquit oneself of a 
 kind of exacted homage to the form of sound 
 words." * 
 
 This is both a generous and a just statement of 
 a Kempis' position ; though a simpler explanation 
 of it lies in the fact that he lived a hundred 
 years before the republication, at the Reformation, 
 of this cardinal doctrine of the Pauline theology. 
 Rut it is a point of the greatest practical import- 
 ance to emphasize that in experience the true order 
 is, that the imitation of Christ should follow the 
 forgiveness of sins through the blood of His cross.t 
 
 3. There is another great Pauline doctrine which 
 hardly perhaps obtains in a Kempis the prominence 
 which belongs to it in connexion with his subject. 
 This is the doctrine of union with Christ, which 
 
 * Correspo?idence of Rev. Thofnas Chalme?'s, D.D., p. 81. 
 
 t On this point see the singularly lofty and weighty statement 
 of Martensen, On the Imitation of Christ and Justifying Faith, in 
 his Christian Ethics, vol. i. 
 
INTR OD UC TOR Y. 27 
 
 may be called the other pole of St. Paul's system. 
 St. Paul's whole teaching revolves between the two 
 poles of righteousness through the death of Christ 
 for us and holiness through the life of Christ in 
 us. The latter truth is not absent from the pages 
 of the Imitation ; but its importance is not fully 
 brought out. 
 
 For, beautiful as the phrase " the imitation of 
 Christ " is, it hardly indicates the deepest way in 
 which Christ's people become like Him. Imitation 
 is rather an external process : it denotes the taking 
 of that which is on one and putting it on another 
 from the outside. But it is not chiefly by such 
 an external copying that a Christian grows like 
 Christ, but by an internal union with Him. If 
 it is by a process of imitation at all, then it is 
 imitation like that of a child copying its mother. 
 This is the completest of imitations. The child 
 reproduces the mother's tones, her gestures, the 
 smallest peculiarities of her gait and movements, 
 with an amazing and almost laughable perfection. 
 But why is the imitation so perfect t It may be 
 said it is because of the child's innumerable oppor- 
 tunities of seeing its mother, or because of the 
 minuteness of a child's observation. But every one 
 knows that there is more in it than this. The 
 mother is in her child ; at its birth she communi- 
 
28 IMAGO CHRISTl. 
 
 cated her own nature to it ; and it is to the 
 working in the child of this mysterious influence 
 that the success of the imitation is due. In Hke 
 manner we may carefully copy the traits of Christ's 
 character, looking at Him outside of us, as a 
 painter looks at his model ; we may do better still — 
 we may, by prayer and the reading of the Word, 
 live daily in His company, and receive the impress 
 of His influence ; but, if our imitation of Him is 
 to be the deepest and most thorough, something 
 more is necessary : He must be in us, as the 
 mother is in her child, having communicated His 
 own nature to us in the new birth.* 
 
 IV. 
 
 There is, however, a defect in the Imitation which 
 the reader of to-day feels more than any of these : 
 it lacks the historical sense, which is the guide of 
 the modern mind in every kind of inquiry. Though 
 the spirit of Christ pervades the book and many 
 of its chapters are so full of the essence of His 
 teaching that they might be appended as invaluable 
 comments to His sayings, yet it presents no clear 
 historical image of Him. 
 
 * " Christ! Vorbild ist mehr als kahles, kaltes Tugendbeispiel, 
 es ist erwarmende, eiziindende Lebensgemeinschaft." — Kogel, 
 PredigteUy i. 86. 
 
INTR ODUC TOR Y. 29 
 
 This would seem, however, to be the one thing 
 needful for successful imitation. If we are to try 
 to be like Christ, we must know what He was like. 
 No painter could make a satisfactory copy of a 
 figure of which he had himself only a vague con- 
 ception. Yet no exact image of Christ will be 
 found in a Kempis. To him Christ is the union 
 and sum of all possible excellences ; but he con- 
 structs Christ out of his own notions of excellence, 
 instead of going to the records of His life and 
 painting the portrait with the colours they supply. 
 He specifies, indeed, certain great features of the 
 Saviour's history — as, for instance, that in becoming 
 man He humbled Himself, and therefore we ought 
 to be humble ; or that He lived a life of suffering, 
 and therefore we ought to be willing to suffer ; but 
 he does not get beyond these generalities. 
 
 Now, it is possible to construct out of the Gospels 
 a more lifelike portrait than this. It is possible at 
 present as it has never been in any former age. 
 Our century will be remembered in the history of 
 Christian thought as the first which concentrated 
 its attention on the details of the Life of Christ. 
 The works written on this subject in recent times 
 have been without number, and they have power- 
 fully affected the mind of the age. The course of 
 Christ's life on earth has been traced from point 
 
30 IMAGO CHRISTL 
 
 to point with indefatigable patience and illustrated 
 with knowledge from every quarter ; every incident 
 has been set in the clearest light ; and we are now 
 able to follow Him as it has never been possible to 
 do before into every department of life — such as the 
 family, the state, the Church, the life of* prayer, the 
 life of friendship, and so on — and to see exactly how 
 He bore Himself in each. This is the method of 
 knowing Him which' has been granted to our age ; 
 and to be content to know Him merely as a vague 
 image of all possible excellences would be to us 
 like painting a landscape in the studio from mere 
 general conceptions of mountains, rivers and fields, 
 instead of going direct to nature. 
 
 Of course it is easy to exaggerate the value of 
 a method. Infinitely more important always arc 
 the mind and heart working behind the method. 
 The glowing love, the soaring reverence, the range 
 and sublimity of thought in a Kempis, have brought 
 the object home to him with a closeness and reality 
 which fill every sympathetic reader with a sacred 
 envy and will always enchain the Christian heart.* 
 Yet, though an improved method is not everything, 
 
 * In reading the Psalms, who has not coveted the nearness 
 to God which their authors attained, and the splendid glow oi 
 feeling which contact with Him produced in them? Who has 
 not questioned whether he has ever himself penetrated so far 
 
y 
 
 INTR OD UCTOR V. 3 1 
 
 it is something ; and, if we feel our own devotion 
 to be cold, and the wing of our thought feeble 
 in comparison with others, all the more ought we 
 to grasp at whatever advantage it may be able to 
 supply. The imitation of Christ is a subject which 
 is constantly calling for reconsideration ; for the 
 evolution of history and the progress of knowledge 
 place people on new points of view in relation to it. 
 Each generation sees it in its own way, and the last 
 word on it can never be spoken. The historical 
 method of handling it is the one which falls in with 
 those habits of thought which have been worn into 
 the mind of our age by its vast conquests in other 
 directions ; and, though it will not make up for the 
 lack of faith and love, it is a cJiarisma which the 
 Church is bound to use, and on the use of which 
 God will bestow His blessing. 
 
 V. 
 It can hardly be said that evangelical thought 
 has hitherto claimed this subject cordially enough 
 as its own. The evangelical heart, indeed, has 
 always been true to it. I have sometimes even 
 thought that among the causes of the popularity of 
 
 into the secret of the Lord? Yet this does not blind us to the 
 superior freedom and fulness of access to the divine presence 
 allowed under the New Testament. 
 
32 IMAGO CHRIS TI. 
 
 a Kempis' book not the least potent is its mere 
 name. The Imitation of Christ ! the very sound 
 of this phrase goes to the heart of every Christian 
 and sets innumerable things moving and yearning 
 in the soul. There is a summons in it like a 
 ravishing voice calling us up sunny heights. It is 
 the sum of all which in our best moments and 
 in our deepest heart we desire. 
 
 But, whilst to Christian experience the imitation 
 of Christ has always been inexpressibly precious, 
 it has held, in evangelical preaching and literature, 
 on the whole, only an equivocal position. The 
 Moderatism which in last century nearly extin- 
 guished the religion of the country made much 
 of the example of Christ. But it divorced it from 
 His atonement, and urged men to follow Christ's 
 example, without first making them acquainted with 
 Him as the Saviour from sins that are past. The 
 Evangelicals, in opposition to this, made Christ's 
 atonement the burden ot their testimony and, 
 when His example was mentioned, were ever ready 
 with. Yes, but His death is more important. Thus 
 it happened that the two parties divided the truth 
 between them, the example of Christ being the 
 doctrine of the one and His atoning death that 
 of the other. In like manner, when Unitarianism 
 seemed for a time, through the high character 
 
INTR OD UC TOR Y. 33 
 
 and splendid eloquence of Channing, to be about 
 to become a power in the world, it derived nearly 
 all the attractiveness it ever possessed from the 
 eulogies in which its preaching abounded of the 
 pure, lofty and self-sacrificing humanity of Christ. 
 The evangelical Church answered with demonstra- 
 tions of His divinity, scriptural and irresistibly 
 logical no doubt, but not always very captivating. 
 And thus a division was again allowed to take 
 place, the humanity of Christ falling to the one 
 party as its share and His divinity to the other. 
 It is time to object to these divisions. Both 
 halves of the truth are ours, and we claim the 
 whole of it. The death of Christ is ours, and 
 we rest in it our hopes of acceptance with God 
 in time and in eternity. This is what we begin 
 with ; but we do not end with it. We will go on 
 from His death to Flis life and, with the love 
 begotten of being redeemed, try to reproduce that 
 life in our own. In the same way, whilst glorying 
 in His divinity, we will allow none to rob us of the 
 attraction and the example of His humanity ; for, 
 indeed, the perfection of His humanity, with what 
 this implies as to the value of His testimony about 
 Himself, is the strongest bulwark of our faith that 
 He was more than man. 
 
11. 
 
 CHRIST IN THE HOME. 
 
Matt. viii. 14, 15, Matt. i. 
 
 „ ix. 18-26. ,, ii. 
 
 „ xvii. 18. Luke i. 26-56. 
 
 xviii. 1-6. 
 
 11. 
 
 „ xix. 13-15. „ lii. 23-38. 
 Markjv. 18, 19. 
 
 ,, xii. 18-25. 
 
 Luke vii. 11 -15. 
 
 „ xi. 27. 28. Matt. xiii. 55-58. 
 
 John viii. i-ii. Luke iv. 16, 22. 
 
 „ xix. 25-27. John vi. 42. 
 
 Matt. xii. 46-50. Mark iii. 21. 
 
 Luke ix. 57-62. John vii. 3-9. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 CHRIST IN THE HOME. 
 
 I. 
 
 " I ^HE institution of the family affords striking 
 ■^ illustrations both of what may be called the 
 element of necessity and of what may be called the 
 element of liberty in human life. 
 
 There is in it a mysterious element of necessity. 
 Everyone is born into a particular family, which 
 has a history and character of its own, formed 
 before he arrives. He has no choice in the matter; 
 yet this connection affects all his subsequent life. 
 He may be born where it is an honour to be 
 born or, on the contrary, where it is a disgrace. 
 He may be heir to inspiring memories and refined 
 habits, or he may have to take up a hereditary 
 burden of physical and moral disease. A man 
 has no choice of his own father and mother, his 
 brothers and sisters, his uncles and cousins ; yet 
 on these ties, which he can never unlock, may 
 depend three-fourths of his happiness or misery. 
 
38 IMAGO CHRIST/, 
 
 The door-bell rings some night, and, going out, 
 you see on the doorstep a man who is evidently 
 a stranger from a strange land. You know nothing 
 of him ; he is quite outside the circle of your 
 interest ; he is ten thousand miles away from your 
 spirit. But, if he can say, " Don't you know me ? 
 I am your brother," how near he comes — ten 
 thousand miles at one step ! You and he are 
 connected with an indissoluble bond ; and this 
 bond may either be a golden clasp which is an 
 ornament or an iron clamp which burns and 
 corrodes your very flesh. This is the element of 
 necessity in the institution of the family. 
 
 Jesus could not touch humanity without being 
 caught in this fetter of necessity. He entered its 
 mysterious circle when He was born of a woman. 
 He became a member of a family which had its 
 own traditions and its own position in society ; 
 and He had brothers and sisters. 
 
 These circumstances were not without import- 
 ance to Him. That His mother exercised an 
 influence upon His growing mind cannot be 
 doubted. We have not, indeed, the means of 
 tracing in much detail how this influence acted, 
 for iQ\v notices of His early years have come 
 down to us ; but it may be noted as one signifi- 
 cant fact that Mary's hymn, the so-called Magnificat, 
 
CHRIST IN THE HOME. 39 
 
 in which, at her meeting with EHzabeth, she poured 
 forth the sentiments of her heart, embodies thoughts 
 which are echoed again and again in the preaching 
 of Jesus. This production proves her to have been 
 a woman not only of great grace, but of rare natural 
 gifts, which had been nourished from God's Word, 
 till she naturally spoke the very language of the 
 prophets and the holy women of old. We may 
 not ascribe too much to her and Joseph, but we 
 can say that the holy childhood of Jesus was 
 reared in a home of pious refinement, and that 
 there were marks of this home on Him after He 
 left it. 
 
 Besides this influence, He was born to a long 
 pedigree ; and this was not a matter of indiffer- 
 ence to Him. He was of the seed of David ; 
 and the Gospel narrative takes pains to trace His 
 descent in the royal line — a procedure which may 
 be regarded as an echo of His own feeling. 
 Noblesse oblige : there is a stimulus to noble action 
 supplied by noble lineage ; and Milton is not 
 perhaps overstepping the bounds of legitimate infer- 
 ence when, in Paradise Regained, he represents the 
 mind of the youthful Saviour as being stirred to 
 noble ambition by the memories of His ancestors: 
 
 Victorious deeds 
 Flamed in My heart, heroic acts — one while 
 To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke ; 
 
40 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 Then to subdue and quell o'er all the earth 
 Brute violence and proud tyrannic power, 
 Till truth was freed and equity restored. 
 
 There can at least be no hesitation in believing 
 that His royal descent pointed out His way to the 
 work of the Messiah. 
 
 He had, however, also to feel the galling of the 
 ring of necessity. He bore the reproach of mean 
 descent ; for, although His remoter ancestry was 
 noble. His immediate relatives were poor ; and, when 
 He appeared on the stage of public life, sneering 
 tongues asked, " Is not this the carpenter's son ? " 
 His life is the final rebuke to such shallow respect 
 of persons, and will remain for ever to the despised 
 and lowly-born a guide to show how, by worth of 
 character and wealth of service to God and man, 
 they may shut the mouths of gainsayers and win a 
 place in the love and honour of the world. 
 
 The element of liberty which belongs to human 
 life is exhibited no less conspicuously than the 
 element of necessity in the family, and is equally 
 mysterious. Of his own choice a man enters the 
 married state and founds a family ; and by this act 
 of his will the circle is fashioned which in the next 
 generation will be inclosing other human beings in 
 the same bonds of relationship into which he has 
 himself been born. 
 
 Of course the nature of the case prevented Jesus 
 
CHRIST IN THE HOME, 
 
 from being the founder of a family ; and this has 
 sometimes been pointed to as a defect in the 
 example He has left us. We have not, it is said, 
 His example to follow in the most sacred of all the 
 relationships of life. Undeniably there seems to be 
 a certain force in this objection. Yet it is a singular 
 fact that the greatest of all precepts in regard to 
 this relationship is taken directly from His example. 
 The deepest and most sacred word ever uttered on 
 the subject of marriage is this : " Husbands, love 
 your wives, even as Christ also loved the Church, 
 and gave Himself for it ; that He might sanctify 
 and cleanse it with the washing of water by the 
 Word, that He might present it to Himself a 
 glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any 
 such thing ; but that it should be holy and without 
 blemish."* 
 
 II. 
 
 Jesus honoured the institution of the family all 
 through His life. 
 
 In His day there prevailed in Palestine a shameful 
 dissolution of the domestic ties. Divorce was rife 
 and so easily procured that every trifle was made an 
 excuse for it ; and by the system of Corban children 
 were actually allowed to compound by a payment to 
 
 * Eph. V. 25 ft. 
 
42 IMAGO CHRISTL 
 
 the Temple for the neglect of their own parents. 
 Jesus denounced these abuses with unsparing indig- 
 nation and sanctioned for all the Christian ages only 
 that law of marriage which causes it to be entered 
 on with forethought,* and then, when the relation- 
 ship has been formed, drains the deepest affections 
 of the heart into its sacred channel. 
 
 His own love of children, and the divine words 
 He spoke about them, if they cannot be said to have 
 created the love of parents for their children, have at 
 all events immensely deepened and refined it. The 
 love of heathen mothers and fathers for their offspring 
 is a rude and animal propensity in comparison with 
 the love for children which reigns in our Christian 
 homes. He lifted childhood up, as He raised so 
 many other weak and despised things, and set it in 
 the midst. If the patter of little feet on the stairs 
 
 * •' He who attacks marriage, he who by word or deed sets 
 himself to undermine this foundation of all moral society, he 
 must settle the matter with me ; and, if I don't bring him to 
 reason, then I have nothing to do with him. Marriage is the 
 beginning and the summit of all civilisation. It makes the 
 savage mild ; and the most highly cultivated man has no better 
 means of demonstrating his mildness. Marriage must be 
 indissoluble ; for it brings so much general happiness, that any 
 individual case of unhappiness that may be connected with it 
 cannot come into account. . . . Are we not really married to our 
 conscience, of which we might often be willing to rid ourselves 
 because it often annoys us more than any man or woman can 
 possibly annoy one another? " — Blackie, The Wisdoin of Goethe. 
 
CHRIST IN THE HOME. 
 
 43 
 
 and the sound of little voices in the house are music 
 to us, and if the pressure of little fingers and the 
 touches of little lips can make us thrill with gratitude 
 and prayer, we owe this sunshine of life to Jesus 
 Christ. By saying, " Suffer the little children to 
 come unto Me," He converted the home into a 
 church, and parents into His ministers ; and it may 
 be doubted whether He has not by this means won 
 to Himself as many disciples in the course of the 
 Christian ages as even by the institution of the 
 Church itself. Perhaps the lessons of mothers 
 speaking of Jesus, and the examples of Christian 
 fathers, have done as much for the success of 
 Christianity as the sermons of eloquent preachers or 
 the worship of assembled congregations. Not once 
 or twice, at all events, has the religion of Christ, 
 when driven out of the Church, which had been 
 turned by faithless ministers and worldly members 
 into a synagogue of Satan, found an asylum in the 
 home ; and there have been few of the great teachers 
 of Christendom who have not derived their deepest 
 convictions from the impressions made by their 
 earliest domestic environment. 
 
 Many of the miracles of Jesus seem to Jiave been 
 prompted by regard for the affections of the family. 
 When He healed the Syro-Phoenician's daughter, or 
 gave the daughter of Jairus back to her mother, or 
 
44 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 raised the widow's son at the gate of Nain, or 
 brought Lazarus from the dead to keep the family 
 circle at Bethany unbroken, can it be doubted that 
 the Saviour experienced delight in ministering to 
 the domestic affections ? He showed how profound 
 was His appreciation of the depth and intensity 
 of these affections in the Parable of the Prodigal 
 Son. 
 
 But it was by His own conduct in the family 
 that He exhibited most fully His respect for this 
 institution. Though the details of His life in 
 Mary's home are unknown to us, every indication 
 shows Him to have been a perfect son. 
 
 There is no joy of parents comparable to that of 
 seeing their child growing' up in wisdom, modesty 
 and nobility ; and we are told that Jesus grew in 
 wisdom and stature and in favour with God and 
 man. If He knew already of the great career 
 before Him, this did not lift Him above the obedience 
 of a child ; for, even when He was twelve years of 
 age, we are told, He went down to Nazareth with 
 His parents and was subject unto them. It is 
 generally supposed that soon after this Joseph died, 
 and on Jesus, as the eldest son, fell the care of 
 supporting the family. This is uncertain ; but the 
 very close of His life is marked by an act which 
 throws the strongest light back on the years of 
 
CHRIST IN THE HOME, 
 
 45 
 
 which no record has been preserved, for it reveals 
 how deep and deathless was His affection for His 
 mother. Whilst hanging on the cross, He saw her 
 and spoke to her. He was at the time in terrible 
 agony, every nerve tingling with intolerable pain. 
 He was at the point of death and anxious no doubt 
 to turn away from all earthly things and deal with 
 God alone ; He was bearing the sin of the world, 
 whose maddening load was crushing His heart ; yet, 
 amidst it all, He turned His attention to His mother 
 and to her future, and made provision for her by 
 asking one of His disciples to take her to his home 
 and be a son to her in His own stead. And the 
 disciple He selected for this service was the most 
 amiable of them all — not Peter the headlong or 
 Thomas the melancholy, but John, who could talk 
 with her more tenderly than any other about the 
 one subject which absorbed them both, and who 
 was perhaps abler than any of the rest, on account 
 of the comfort of his worldly condition, to support 
 Mary without allowing her to feel that she was a 
 burden. 
 
 ni. 
 
 Sacred as is the parent's right to the obedience 
 of the child, there is a term to it. It is the office 
 of the parent to train the child to independence. 
 
46 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 As the schoolmaster's aim ought to be to train his 
 pupils to a stage where they are able to face the 
 work of life without any more help from him, so 
 parents have to recognise that there is a point at 
 which their commands must cease and their children 
 be allowed to choose and act for themselves. Love 
 will not cease ; respect ought not to cease ; but 
 authority has to cease. Where exactly this point 
 occurs in a child's life it is difficult to define. It 
 may not be the same in every case. But in all 
 cases it is a momentous crisis. Woe to the child 
 who grasps at this freedom too soon ! This is often 
 the ruin of the young ; and among the features of the 
 life of our own time there are none perhaps more 
 ominous than the widespread disposition among the 
 young to slip the bridle of authority prematurely 
 and acknowledge no law except their own will. But 
 parents also sometimes make the mistake of attempt- 
 ing to exert their authority too long. A father may 
 try to keep Lis son under his roof when it would be 
 better for him to marry and have a house of his 
 own ; or a mother may interfere in the household 
 affairs of her married daughter, who would be a 
 
 better wife if left to her own resources. 
 
 * 
 
 * " A child's duty is to obey its parents. It is never said any- 
 where in the Bible, and never was yet said in any good or wise 
 book, that a man's or a woman's is. When, precisely, a child 
 
CHRIST IN THE HOME. 47 
 
 Mary, the mother of Jesus, erred in this respect. 
 She attempted again and again to interfere unduly 
 with His work, even after His public ministry had 
 commenced. It was her pride in Him that made 
 her do so at the marriage in Cana of Galilee ; it 
 was anxiety about His health on other occasions. 
 She was not the only one who ventured to control 
 His action in an undue way. But, if anything 
 could arouse the indignation of Jesus, it was such 
 interference. It made Him once turn on Peter 
 with, " Get thee behind Me, Satan ; " and on more 
 than one occasion it lent an appearance of harshness 
 even to His behaviour to His mother. The very 
 intensity of His love to His friends and relatives 
 made their wishes and appeals sore temptations to 
 Him, for He would have liked to please them had 
 
 becomes a man or a woman, it can no more be said, than when it 
 should first stand on its legs. But a time assuredly comes when 
 it should. In great states, children are always trying to remain 
 children, and the parents wanting to make men and women of 
 them. In vile states the children are always wanting to be men 
 and women, and the parents to keep them children. It may be 
 — and happy the house in which it is so — that the father's at 
 least equal intellect, and older experience, may remain to the 
 end of his life a law to his children, not of force, but of perfect 
 guidance, with perfect love. Rarely it is so ; not often possible. 
 It is as natural for the old to be prejudiced as for the young to 
 be presumptuous ; and in the change of centuries, each generation 
 has something to judge of for itself." — Ruskin, Mornings in 
 Florence^ vol. iii., p. 72. 
 
48 'IMAGO CHRISTl. 
 
 He been able. But, if He had yielded, He would 
 have been turning away from the task to which 
 He was pledged ; and therefore He had to rouse 
 Himself even to indignation to resist temptation. 
 On no other occasion had His conduct so much 
 appearance of unfilial harshness as when His 
 mother and brethren came one day in the midst 
 of His work desiring to speak with Him, and He 
 retorted on the person who told Him, " But who 
 is My mother, and who are My brethren ? " and, 
 looking round on the disciples seated in front of 
 Him, added, " Behold, My mother and My brethren ! 
 for whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is 
 My brother, and sister, and mother." It cannot 
 be denied that these words have a harsh sound.* 
 But they are probably to be read with what goes 
 immediately before them in the Gospel of St. Mark, 
 where we are told that His friends made an attempt 
 to lay hold of Him, saying, " He is beside Himself." 
 So absorbed was Jesus at this period in His work 
 that He neglected even to eat ; so rapt was He 
 in the holy passion of saving men that to His rela- 
 tives it appeared that He had gone mad ; and they 
 
 * The very fact, however, that Jesus compared the relation 
 between Himself and those who do the will of God to the con- 
 nection between Himself and His mother and brethren implies 
 that the latter held a high and sacred place in His mind. 
 
CHRIST IN THE HOME. 49 
 
 conceived it to be their duty to lay hands on Him 
 and put Him in restraint. If Mary took part in this 
 impious procedure, it is no wonder that there should 
 have fallen on her a heavy rebuke. At all events 
 she evidently came to Him thinking that He must 
 at once leave everything and speak to her. But He 
 had to teach her that there are even higher claims 
 than those of domestic affection : in doing God's 
 work He could recognise no authority but God's. 
 There is a sphere into which even parental 
 authority may not seek admittance — the sphere of 
 conscience. Jesus not only kept this sacred for 
 Himself, but called upon those who followed Him 
 to do so too. He foresaw how in the progress of 
 time this would often sever family ties ; and to one 
 who cherished so high a respect for the home it 
 must have been a prospect full of pain : " Think 
 not," He said, " that I am come to send peace on 
 earth, but a sword. For I am come to set a man 
 at variance against his father, and the daughter 
 against her mother, and the daughter-in-law against 
 her mother-in-law. And a man's foes shall be they 
 of his own household." This must have been to 
 Him a terrible prospect ; but He did not shrink 
 from it ; to Him there were claims higher than 
 even those of home : " He that loveth father and 
 mother more than Me is not \vorthy of Me, and he 
 
 4 
 
50 IMAGO CHRJSTI. 
 
 that loveth son or daughter more than Me is not 
 vorthy of Me." 
 
 This sword still cuts. In heathen countries 
 where Christianity is being introduced, especially in 
 countries, like India, where the domestic system 
 is extensively developed, the chief difficulty in the 
 way of confessing Christ is the pain of breaking 
 family connections, and often it is nothing less 
 than an agony. Even in Christian lands the oppo- 
 sition of worldly parents to the religious decision 
 of their children is sometimes very strong, and 
 occasions extreme perplexity to those who have to 
 bear this cross. It is always a delicate case, re- 
 quiring the utmost Christian wisdom and patience ; 
 but, when the issues are clear to mind and con- 
 science, there can be no doubt which alternative 
 is the will of Christ : we must obey God rather than 
 man.* How happy are they who are in precisely 
 the opposite case : who know that their full decision 
 
 * There is a very important caution hinted at in the words 
 of Martensen on this subject {Ch^'istian Ethics, vol. ii.) : " What- 
 ever doubtful and difficult circumstances may hereby arise, and 
 however mistakenly those members of a family may act, who 
 are awake to Christian truth, but whose Christianity is often 
 made an unseemly display of, and whose whole behaviour is one 
 fret and ferment, still the fact itself, that ordinary and zuorldly 
 family life is disturbed by the Gospel, is one quite in order, and 
 in conformity with the divine economy.'" 
 
CHRIST IN THE HOME. 51 
 
 for Christ and frank confession of Him would fill 
 their homes with joy unspeakable ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 In every home, it is said, there is a skeleton in 
 the cupboard ; that is to say, however great may be 
 its prosperity and however perfect the appearance 
 of harmony it presents to the world, there is always, 
 inside, some friction or fear, or secret, which darkens 
 the sunshine. 
 
 This proverb may be no truer than many other 
 wide generalisations which need to be qualified 
 by the acknowledgment of innumerable exceptions. 
 Yet there is no denying that home has its pains as 
 well as its pleasures, and the very closeness of the 
 connection of the members of a family with one 
 another gives to any who may be so disposed the 
 chance of wounding the rest. Under the cloak of 
 relationship torture may be applied with impunity, 
 which those who inflict it would not dare to apply 
 to an outsider. 
 
 Jesus suffered from this : He had His peculiar 
 domestic grief. It was that His brethren did not 
 believe on Him. They could not believe that 
 He who had grown up with .them as one of 
 themselves was infinitely greater than they. They 
 looked with envy on His waxing fame. Whenever 
 
52 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 they intervene in His life, it is in a way to 
 annoy. 
 
 How great a grief this must have been to Jesus 
 will be best understood by those who have suffered 
 the like themselves. There have been many of 
 God's saints who have had to stand and testify 
 alone in ungodly and worldly homes. Many in 
 such circumstances are suffering an agony of daily 
 petty martyrdom which may be harder to bear than 
 public persecution, for which widespread sympathy 
 is easily aroused. But they know at least that they 
 have the sympathy of Him who alluded so patheti- 
 cally to His own experience in the words : " A 
 prophet is not without honour save in his own 
 country and in his own house." 
 
 How He met His brethren's unbelief — whether 
 He reasoned and remonstrated with them or was 
 silent and trusted to the testimony of His life — 
 we cannot tell. But we may be certain that He 
 prayed for them without ceasing ; and happily we 
 know what the issue was. 
 
 His brethren, it would appear, continued un- 
 believing up to the time of His death. But im- 
 mediately thereafter, in the first chapter of the 
 Book of Acts, we, find them assembled as believers 
 with His apostles in Jerusalem."^ This is an 
 
 * Acts i. 14. 
 
CHRIST IN THE HOME. 53 
 
 extraordinary circumstance ; for at this very time 
 His cause was, if we may so speak, at the lowest 
 ebb. Events seemed to have demonstrated that 
 His pretensions to the Messiahship had been false ; 
 yet those who had disbelieved in Him at the height 
 of His fame were found among the believers in 
 Him when apparently His cause had gone to pieces. 
 How is this to be accounted for ? 
 
 The explanation lies, I believe, in a passage of 
 First Corinthians, where, in enumerating the appear- 
 ances of our Lord to different persons after His 
 resurrection, St. Paul mentions that He appeared to 
 James.* This was apparently the Lord's brother ; 
 and, if so, is there not something wonderfully strik- 
 ing in the fact that one of the first acts of the risen 
 Saviour was to bring to His unbelieving brother the 
 evidence which would conquer his unbelief? James, 
 it may be presumed, would communicate what he 
 had experienced to the other members of Mary's 
 family. The result was of the happiest description ; 
 and two of the brothers, James and Jude, lived to 
 be the penmen of books of Holy Scripture. 
 
 I venture to think that the presence of these 
 brethren of Jesus among the believers in Him at 
 such a crisis is even yet one of the strongest proofs 
 
 * I Cor. XV. 7. 
 
54 IMAGO CURISTL 
 
 of the reality of the resurrection ; but in the mean- 
 time we will rather think of it as a signal proof 
 of the unwearied persistence with which He sought 
 their salvation, and as an example to ourselves to 
 pray on, hope on, work on for those of our own 
 flesh and blood who may yet be outside the fold 
 of Christ. 
 
III. 
 
 CHRIST IN THE STATE 
 
Matt. ix. I. Matt. ii. 
 
 „ xiii. 54. „ iv. 3-10. 
 
 ,, xvii. 24-27, ,, ix. 9, 27. 
 
 „ XX. 17-19. ,, xxi. I-II. 
 
 ,, xxiii. 37-39. „ xxii. 15-21. 
 
 ,, xxvi. 32. ,, xxvi. 47-6S 
 
 Luke iv. 16-30. ,, xxvii. 
 
 ,, xiii. 16; 34, 35. Luke ii. II, 29, 3; 
 
 ,, xix. 9. ,, xiii. 31-33. 
 
 ,, xxiii. 7-12. 
 
 John vi. 15. 
 xi. 48. 
 
 Matt, xviii. 1-3. 
 
 ,5 xix. 28. 
 
 ,, XX. 20-28. 
 John xviii. 36, 37. 
 
 xix. 14, 19, 20. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 CHRIST IN THE STATE. 
 
 r N the mind of the average Christian of the 
 ^ present day the idea of the state does not 
 perhaps occupy a prominent position. Many of 
 his duties appear to him more important than those 
 he owes as a citizen. He probably considers that 
 the most important question which can be asked 
 about him is, What is he in himself, in his secret 
 soul and inward character ? Next to this in im- 
 portance he might perhaps consider the question 
 of what he is as a member of the Church, charged 
 with sustaining its honour and sharing in its work. 
 The third place he might give to the question of 
 what he is in the family, as son, husband, father. 
 But much less important than any of these would 
 appear to him the fourth question — what he is as 
 a citizen of the state. 
 
 On the whole, perhaps this is the right way of 
 
58 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 judging ; probably it is the Christian way.* But 
 it is the exact opposite of the view of the whole 
 ancient world. The great thinkers of Greece, for 
 example, put the state before the individual, the 
 home and the Church. To them the supreme 
 question about every man was, What is he as a 
 citizen } The chief end of man they believed to 
 be to make the state great and prosperous, and to 
 the interests of the state they sacrificed everything 
 else. Whether the individual was good and happy, 
 whether the family was pure and harmonious, was 
 not what they asked first, but whether the state 
 was strong. 
 
 Jesus changed this. He was the discoverer, so 
 to speak, of the individual. He taught that in 
 every man there is a soul more precious than the 
 
 * The relative importance of these different ways of con- 
 sidering man affords scope, however, for endless discussion and 
 difference of opinion. Rothe's ethical speculations were power- 
 fully influenced by deference to the ancient view of the priority 
 of the state. Martensen holds that a theory of society must 
 start from the family. Ritschl and his school have re-emphasized 
 the ethical and religious importance of the Church. Among 
 ourselves several causes are contributing at present to give 
 prominence to the social aspects of religion. It is impossible 
 to overestimate these, unless they are put above its individual 
 aspects. I can entertain no doubt that in the mind of Jesus 
 the individual was the p?ius. Indeed, one of the most decisive 
 steps forward taken in His moral teaching was the substitution 
 of the individual as the unit for the nation or the Church. 
 
CHRIST IN THE STATE. 59 
 
 whole world, and that the best product of this 
 world is a good and noble character. Instead of 
 its being true that individuals do not matter if the 
 state is strong, the truth is that the state and the 
 Church and the family are only means for the good 
 of the individual, and they are tested by the kind 
 of man they produce * In this, as in many other 
 respects, Christianity turned the world upside down, 
 and put the first last and the last first. 
 
 But, although the state does not hold the place 
 in Christian teaching which it held in heathen 
 philosophy, it would be a great mistake to sup- 
 pose that to Christianity the state is unimportant. 
 Though the primary aim of Christ's religion is to 
 make good men, yet good men ought to be good 
 citizens. 
 
 II. 
 
 It is natural to a healthy human being to love 
 the land of his birth, the scenery on which his 
 eyes have first rested, and the town in which he 
 resides ; and it is part of the design of Providence 
 to utilise these affections for the progress of man 
 and the embellishment of the earth, which is his 
 habitation. Every inhabitant of a town ought to 
 
 * " The test of every religious, political, or educational system 
 is the man which it forms." — AmieVs Journal^ vol. i., p. 49. 
 
6o IMAGO CHRISTl. 
 
 wish to promote its welfare and adorn it with 
 beauty ; and there is no feeling more worthy of a 
 youthful heart than the desire to do something — 
 by making a wise plan, or writing a good book, 
 or singing a noble lay, or expunging a national 
 blot — to add to the fair fame of his native 
 country.* 
 
 Some countries have had an exceptional power 
 of awakening these sentiments and of binding 
 their own children to their service. Palestine was 
 one of these. It was loved with a fervent patriot- 
 ism. Its charm lay partly in its beauty. It may 
 have lain partly in its very smallness, for feeling 
 contracts an impetuous force when confined within 
 narrow limits, as highland rivers become torrents 
 in their rocky beds. But it is the memory of great 
 and unselfish lives lived on its soil that chiefly 
 excites patriotic sentiment in the inhabitants of any 
 
 " I mind it weel, in early date, 
 When I was beardless, young and blate, 
 And first could thresh the barn, 
 
 * * ♦ * 
 
 Ev'n then a wish (I mind its power), 
 A wish that to my latest hour 
 
 Shall strongly heave my breast : 
 That I for poor auld Scotland's sake 
 Some usefu' plan or beuk could make 
 
 Or sing a sang at least." 
 
 Burns. 
 
CHRIST IN THE STATE. 6i 
 
 country ; * and Palestine possessed this source of 
 fascination in unparalleled measure, for its history 
 was crowded with the most inspiring names. 
 
 Jesus felt this spell. Can any one read in His 
 words the images of natural beauty gathered from 
 the fields of Galilee without being convinced that 
 He looked on these landscapes with a loving eye } 
 The name of the village He was brought up in clings 
 to Him to this day, for He is still Jesus of Nazareth. 
 He vindicated Himself for healing a woman on the 
 Sabbath on the ground that she was a daughter 
 of Abraham ; and the publicans and sinners were 
 dear to Him because they were the lost sheep of 
 the house of Israel. Jerusalem, the capital of the 
 country, had always laid a strong hold on Jewish 
 hearts. The bards of the nation used to sing of 
 it, '' Beautiful for situation is Mount Zion ; " " Let 
 my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth if I 
 forget thee, O Jerusalem." But all such tributes of 
 affection were surpassed by Jesus, when He addressed 
 it, " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have 
 
 * Saj's Novalis : "The best of the French monarclis had it for 
 his purpose to make his subjects so well off that every one of 
 them should be able on Sundays to have roast fowl to dinner. 
 Very good. But would not that be a better government under 
 which the peasant would rather dine on dry bread than under 
 any other on roast fowl, and, as grace before meat, would give 
 God thanks that he had been born in such a country ? " 
 
62 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 gathered thy children together even as a hen 
 gathereth her chickens under her wings ! " This 
 feeling survived even the transformation of the 
 grave, for, in giving instructions, after He was 
 risen, to His apostles about the evangelization of 
 the world, He said, "Begin at Jerusalem." He lived 
 in the closest sympathy with the great figures of His 
 country's past and with the work done by them. 
 Such names as Abraham and Moses, David and 
 Isaiah, were continually on His lips; and He took up 
 the tasks which they had left unfinished and carried 
 them forward to their fulfilment. This is the truest 
 work of patriotism. Happy is that country whose 
 best life has been drained into some ideal cause, and 
 whose greatest names are the names of those who have 
 lavished their strength on this object. The deeds 
 and sayings of these heroes ought, next to the Bible, 
 to be the chief spiritual nourishment of her children ; 
 and the young ambition of her choicest minds should 
 be concentrated on watering the seeds which they 
 sowed and completing the enterprises which they 
 inaugurated. 
 
 ni. 
 
 There was one task of patriotism in Christ's day 
 and country which seemed to lie to the hand of 
 anyone born with a patriotic spirit. Palestine was 
 at that time an enslaved country. In fact, it was 
 
CHRIST IN THE STATE. 63 
 
 groaning under a double servitude ; for, whilst 
 several of its provinces were ruled over by the 
 tyrannical race of the Herods,* the whole country 
 was subject to the Roman power. 
 
 Was it not the duty of Jesus to free His country 
 from this double tyranny and restore it to indepen- 
 dence, or even elevate it to a place of sovereignty 
 among the nations ? Many would have been willing 
 to welcome a deliverer and to make sacrifices for the 
 national cause. The whole of the Pharisaic party 
 was imbued with patriotic sentiment, and a section 
 of it bore the name of the Zealots, because 
 they were willing to go all lengths in sacrifice or 
 daring.t 
 
 Jesus seemed to be designated for this very 
 service. He was directly descended from David 
 through the royal line. When He was born, wise 
 men came from the East to Jerusalem inquiring, 
 " Where is He that is born King of the Jews t " 
 One of His first disciples,^ on being introduced to 
 Him, saluted Him as " the King of Israel ;" and, on 
 the day when He rode in triumph into Jerusalem, 
 
 * Herod the Great, the founder of this dynasty, was an 
 Idumsean, but tried to conciliate the national sentiment by 
 marrying a Jewish princess. 
 
 t One member of this party, Simon Zelotes, joined the 
 discipleship of Jesus. 
 
 I Nathanael. 
 
64 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 His adherents called Him by the same name, no 
 doubt meaning that they expected Him to be 
 literally the king of the country. These, and man)- 
 other incidents which they will recall, are indications 
 that it was His destiny not to be the private man 
 He was, but to be the head of an emancipated and 
 glorious state. 
 
 Why was this destination not fulfilled ? This is 
 the most difficult question that can be asked. It 
 occurs often to every careful reader of the Gospels, 
 but lands us as often as we ask it in a sea of 
 mysteries. Did He ever intend to be the king 
 of His native country } Was Satan appealing to 
 the favourite fancies of His youth when he showed 
 Him all the kingdoms of the world and the glory 
 of them .? If the Jewish people, instead of rejecting, 
 had welcomed Him, what would have happened 1 
 Would He have set up His throne in Jerusalem 
 and made the whole world subject to it ? Was it 
 only when they had made it impossible for Him to 
 reign over them that He turned aside from what 
 appeared to be His destiny and limited Himself 
 to a kingdom not of this world .? 
 
 It is impossible to read Christ's life intelligently 
 without asking such questions as these ; yet it is vain 
 to ask them, for they cannot be answered. We are 
 asking what would have been, if something which 
 
CHRIST IN THE STATE. 65 
 
 did happen had not happened; and only omniscience 
 is equal to such a problem. 
 
 We may, however, say with certainty that it was 
 the sin of man which prevented Jesus from ascending 
 the throne of His father David. His offer of Himself 
 to be the Messiah of His country was a bond fide 
 offer. Yet it was made on conditions from which 
 He could not depart : He could only have been 
 king of a righteous nation. But the Jews were 
 thoroughly unrighteous. They once tried to take 
 Him by force and make Him a king ; but their zeal 
 was unhallowed, and He could not yield to it. 
 
 Then the tide of His life turned and rolled back 
 upon itself. Instead of the expeller of tyrants, He 
 became the victim of tyranny. His own nation, 
 which ought to have raised Him on its shields as 
 its leader, became His prosecutor at the bar of the 
 alien government, and He had to stand as a culprit 
 before both the Roman and the Herod ian rulers 
 of the land. As a subject of the country, He 
 yielded with all submissiveness, telling His followers 
 to put up their swords. And the law-officers of the 
 state made a malefactor of Him, crucifying Him 
 between two thieves. His blood fell on the capital 
 of the country as a deadly curse ; and in less than 
 half a century after His murder the Jewish state 
 had disappeared from the face of the earth. 
 
 S 
 
66 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 It is a terrible commentary on the imperfection 
 of the state. The state exists for the protection of 
 life, property, and honour — to be a terror to evil- 
 doers and a praise to them that do well. Once, 
 and only once in all history, it had to deal with One 
 who was perfectly good ; and what it did was to 
 adjudge Him a place among the very worst of 
 criminals and put Him to death. If this were a 
 specimen of the law's habitual action, the state, 
 instead of being a divine institution, would have to 
 be pronounced the most monstrous evil with which 
 the world is cursed. So the victims of its injustice 
 have sometimes pronounced it ; but happily such 
 opinions are only the excesses of a few. On the 
 whole, the laws framed by the state, and the ad- 
 ministration of them, have been a restraint on sin 
 and a protection to innocence. Yet the exceptions 
 in every age have been numerous and sad enough. 
 Not everything is righteous which the law of the 
 land sanctions, nor are those all unrighteous whom 
 the administrators of the law condemn. It is of the 
 utmost consequence in our day to remember this, 
 because, in the changed arrangements of the modern 
 state, we are not only subjects of the government, 
 but, directly or indirectly, makers and administrators 
 of the law. Through the exercise of the municipal 
 and the parliamentary franchises, we have a pait in 
 
CHRIST IN THE STATE. 67 
 
 appointing those who make and who administer the 
 laws, and thus we have our share in the responsi- 
 bility of bringing up the laws to the standard of the 
 divine justice and placing the wise and the good 
 upon the judgment scat. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The life of Jesus appeared to miscarry. He who 
 was meant to be a king was held unworthy to live 
 even as a subject ; instead of inhabiting a palace, 
 He was consigned to a prison ; instead of being 
 seated on a throne. He was nailed to a tree. 
 
 But, although this was a miscarriage in so far as 
 it was due to the wicked will of men, it was no mis- 
 carriage in the wisdom of God. Looked at from 
 man's side, the death of Christ was the blackest spot 
 on human history, a mistake and a crime without 
 parallel ; but, looked at from God's side, it is the 
 grandest scene in the history of the universe ; for in 
 it human sin was expiated, the depths of the divine 
 love were disclosed, and the path of perfection 
 opened for the children of men. Jesus was never 
 so completely a king as at the moment when His 
 claims to kingship were turned into ridicule. It was 
 in savage jest that the title was put above His cross, 
 "This is Jesus, the King of the Jews." Pilate wrote 
 
68 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 these words in ridicule ; but, when we look back at 
 them now, do they appear ridiculous ? Do they 
 not rather shine across the centuries with inextin- 
 guishable splendour ? In that hour of uttermost 
 shame He was proving Himself to be the King of 
 kings and the Lord of lords. 
 
 Jesus had all along had a conception of His own 
 kingship which was distinct, original and often 
 repeated. He held that to be a true king is to be 
 the servant of the commonweal, and that he is most 
 kingly who renders the most valuable services to the 
 greatest number. He was well aware that this was 
 not the world's view of kingship, but precisely the 
 reverse of it. The world's view is that to be a king 
 is to have multitudes in your service, and the greater 
 the numbers ministering to his glory or pleasure the 
 greater is the king. So He said : " The princes of 
 the Gentiles exercise dominion over them, and they 
 that are great exercise authority upon them." " But," 
 He added, " it shall not be so among you : but 
 whosoever will be great among you, let him be your 
 minister ; and whosoever w^ill be chief among you, let 
 him be your servant." Such was Christ's conception 
 of greatness ; and, if it is the true one, He was 
 never so great as when, by the sacrifice of Himself, 
 He was conferring on the whole world the blessings 
 of salvation. 
 
CHRIST IN THE STATE. 69 
 
 But this conception of greatness and kingliness 
 was not meant by Jesus to be applied to His own 
 conduct alone ; it is of universal application. It is 
 the Christian standard for the measurement of all 
 dignities in the state. He is greatest, according to 
 the mind of Christ, who renders the greatest services 
 to others. 
 
 Alas ! this is as yet but little understood ; it 
 makes but slow progress in the minds of men. 
 The old heathen idea is still the governing one 
 of politics — that to be great is to receive much 
 service, not to render it. Politics has been a 
 game of ambition, if not a hunting-ground for 
 rapacity, rather than a sphere of service. The 
 aim of the governing classes hitherto has been to 
 get as much as possible for themselves at the 
 expense of the governed ; and it has yet to be 
 seen whether the new governing class is to be 
 swayed by a better spirit. 
 
 Still, the Christian idea is growing in this depart- 
 ment also of human affairs. The common heart 
 responds to Christ's teaching, that the kingliest is 
 he who sacrifices himself most willingly, works the 
 hardest and achieves the most for the weal of all ; 
 and, although the quaint old saying of the Psalmist 
 is still too true, that ** men will praise thee when 
 thou doest well to thyself," yet the number of those 
 
70 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 is daily growing who feel that the greatness of a 
 ruler is measured, " not by the amount of tribute he 
 levies on society, but by the greatness of the services 
 he renders it." 
 
IV 
 CHRIST IN THE CHURCH 
 
Matt. iii. 13-15. Matt. ix. 10-17. 
 
 ,, viii. 4. „ xii. 1-14. 
 
 „ ix. 35- »t XV. 1-9. 
 
 „ xiii. 54. ,, xvi. 6. 
 
 ,, xxi. 12, 13. ,, xxiii. 
 
 Mark iii. 1-6. Luke x. 31, 32. 
 
 ,, vf 2. John ii. 13-33. 
 
 „ xii. 41-44. 
 
 Luke ii. 21-24, 39» 4I-49- 
 
 ,, iv. 16-32, 44. 
 
 „ xxii. 53. 
 
 John iv. 22. Matt. xxiv. 1-2. 
 
 „ V. I. „ xxvi. 17-30. 
 
 ,, viii. 20. ■ ,, xxviii. 19, 20. 
 
 „ X. 22. 23. John xk. 22, 23. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 CHRIST IN THE CHURCH. 
 
 T N some respects the Church is a narrower body 
 ^ than even the family ; for one member of a 
 family may be taken into it and another left out ; 
 but in other respects it is wider even than the state ; 
 for members of different nations may be members 
 of the same Church. 
 
 The family and the state are institutions de- 
 veloped out of human nature by its own inherent 
 force and according to its own inherent laws ; but 
 the Church is a divine institution, planted among 
 men to gather into itself select souls and administer 
 to them supernatural gifts. It is not, indeed, with- 
 out a natural root in human nature ; but this root 
 consists of those feelings in man which make him 
 aspire to an enjojment and satisfaction which are 
 not to be found in this world of which he is lord, 
 but can only be got as the pure gift of Heaven. 
 Without revelation there is no Church. As the 
 edifice of the Church rises above the homes of men, 
 
74 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 amidst which it is erected, and its spire, like a 
 finger, points to the sky, so the Church as an 
 institution is an expression of man's aspirations after 
 a heavenly life — a life in God and in eternity, 
 which only the condescending grace of God can 
 supply. 
 
 I. 
 
 Jesus was born in a country in which there was 
 already a true Church, founded on revelation and 
 administering the grace of God. He was a child 
 of that nation to which " pertained the adoption and 
 the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the 
 law, and the service of God, and the promises." He 
 was admitted into the fellowship of the Church by 
 the ordinary gateway of circumcision ; and a {^w 
 weeks thereafter He was presented in the Temple, 
 like any other Jewish child, in acknowledgment 
 that He belonged to the Lord. Thus, before He 
 was Himself conscious of it. He was, through the 
 wishes of His earthly parents, shut in by holy rites 
 within the visible Church of God. 
 
 In our day, all Christian parents devote their chil- 
 dren to God; but too many of them show no dis- 
 position in maturity to desire for themselves to be 
 connected with the house of God. Jesus, on the 
 contrary, as soon as He became fully capable of 
 
CHRIST IN THE CHURCH 75 
 
 self-conscious action, adopted the pious wishes 
 of His parents as His own and developed a pas- 
 sionate love for the house of God. When His 
 parents lost Him in Jerusalem at twelve years of 
 age, they found Him again in the Temple ; and, 
 when they told Him how long and how widely they 
 had sought Him, He asked in surprise how they 
 could have expected Him to be anywhere else than 
 there.* He was without a doubt a regular fre- 
 quenter of the synagogue during His silent years 
 at Nazareth ; and strange it is to think of Him 
 being preached to Sabbath after Sabbath for so 
 long.-f 
 
 When He quitted the privacy of Nazareth and 
 began His public work. He was still a regular 
 frequenter of the synagogue. This was in fact the 
 centre from which His work developed itself. " He 
 wrought miracles in the synagogues of Galilee." 
 
 * " Wist ye not that I should be in M}^ Father's house ? " So 
 the Revised Version, correctly. 
 
 t What was the man like who did it? Was he a wise man, 
 who guided the footsteps of the Holy Child into the pastures of 
 the Word and supplied Him with the language in which His 
 own thoughts afterwards expressed themselves ? or was he an 
 embodiment of all that Jesus had afterwards to denounce in 
 Pharisee and scribe ? No portion of a congregation is more / 
 awe-inspiring to a minister than the children. Any Sunday •^ 
 there may be sitting before us one who is already revolving 
 the thoughts which will dominate the future and supersede 
 our own. 
 
76 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 Nor was He neglectful of the other centre of Jewish 
 worship — the Temple at Jerusalem. He regularly 
 attended the feasts ; He sat down with His disciples 
 in Jerusalem to eat the Passover ; and He preached 
 in the courts of the Temple. Even so secular a 
 part of divine service as the giving of money He 
 did not overlook : He sent Peter to fetch out of 
 the fish's mouth a coin to pay for Him the Temple- 
 tax ; and He passed a glowing eulogium on the 
 widow who cast her mite into the Temple collecting- 
 box. 
 
 It is thus evident that Jesus was a passionate 
 lover of the house of God. He could say with 
 holy David, " How amiable are Thy tabernacles, O 
 Lord of hosts ; my soul longeth, yea, even fainteth 
 for the courts of the Lord. A day in Thy courts 
 is better than a thousand." 
 
 One sometimes hears even professedly religious 
 people at the present day disparaging public 
 worship, as if religion might flourish equally well 
 without it ; and, for trifling reasons or for no reason 
 at all, they take it upon themselves to withdraw 
 from the visible Church as something unworthy of 
 them. This was not the way in which Jesus acted 
 The Church of Plis day was by no means a pure 
 one ; and He, if anybody, might have deemed it 
 unworthy of Him. But He regularly waited on 
 
CHRIST IN THE CHURCH. 77 
 
 its ordinances and ardently loved it. There are 
 few congregations less ideal perhaps than that in 
 which He worshipped in wicked Nazareth, and i(t\N 
 sermons are less perfect than those He listened to. 
 But in that little synagogue He felt Himself made 
 one with all the piety of the land ; as the Scripture 
 was read, the great and good of former ages 
 thronged around Him ; nay, heaven itself was in 
 that narrow place for Him. 
 
 The Church is the window in the house of human 
 life from which to look out and see heaven ; and it 
 does not require a very ornamental window to make 
 the stars visible. The finest name ever given, out- 
 side the Bible, to the Church Is Bunyan's Palace 
 Beautiful. Yet the churches which he was ac- 
 quainted with were only the Baptist meeting-houses 
 of Bedfordshire ; and in an age of persecution these 
 were certainly as humble structures as have ever 
 served for places of worship. No better than barns 
 they seemed to common eyes ; but in his eyes 
 each of them was a Palace Beautiful ; because, 
 when seated on one of its rough benches, he felt 
 himself in the general assembly and Church of the 
 firstborn ; and the eye of his imagination, looking 
 up through the dingy rafters, could descry the 
 gorgeous roof and shining pinnacles of the Church 
 universal. It is the sanctified imagination that 
 
78 IMAGO CHRIST!, 
 
 invests the Church building, whether it be biick 
 meeting-house or noble cathedral, with true sub- 
 limity ; and love to God, whose house it is, can 
 make the humblest material structure a home of 
 the spirit. 
 
 II. 
 
 Although the Church of Christ's day was of 
 divine origin and He acknowledged it to be the 
 house of God, it was frightfully full of abuses. 
 Though an institution comes, from God, man may 
 add to it that which is his own ; and by degrees the 
 human addition may become so identified with the 
 divine institution that both are supposed to be of 
 a piece and equally divine. The human additions 
 grow and grow, until it is almost impossible to get at 
 what is God's through that which is man's. Some 
 successful souls, indeed, still find their way through 
 to the reality, as the roots of trees seek their way to 
 the sustenance of the soil between the crannies of 
 the opposing rocks ; but multitudes are unable to 
 find the way, and perish through trying to satisfy 
 themselves with what is merely human, mistaking it 
 for what is divine. At last a strong man is raised 
 up to perceive the difference between the original 
 structure and the human addition ; and he tears 
 away the latter, breaking it in pieces, amidst the 
 
CHRIST IN THE CHURCH. 79 
 
 wild i)utcries of all the owls and birds of darkness 
 that have built their nests in it, and discloses once 
 more the foundation of God. This is the Reformer. 
 
 In Christ's day the accumulation of human addi- 
 tions to the religion which God had instituted had 
 grown to a head. No one knows how it had begun ; 
 such things sometimes begin innocently enough. But 
 it had been immensely developed by a misconcep- 
 tion which had crept in as to what the worship of 
 God is. Worship is the means by which the empty 
 human soul approaches God in order to be filled 
 with His fulness, and then go away rejoicing, to 
 live for Him in tlie strength thus received. But 
 there is always a tendency to look upon it as a 
 tribute we pay to God, which pleases Him and is 
 meritoiious on our part. Of course, if it is tribute 
 paid to Him, the more of it that can be paid the 
 better ; for the more of it there is, so much the 
 greater grows the merit of the worshipper. Thus 
 services are multiplied, new forms are invented, 
 and the memory of God's grace is lost in the 
 achievements of human m.erit. 
 
 This was what had happened in Palestine. 
 Religion had become an endless round of services, 
 which were multiplied till they became a burden 
 which life was unable to bear. The ministers 
 of religion heaped them on the people, whose 
 
8o IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 consciences were so crushed with the sense of 
 shortcoming that the whole joy of rehgion was 
 extinguished. Even the ministers of religion them- 
 selves were not able to perform all the orders they 
 issued ; and then hypocrisy came in ; for naturally 
 they were supposed to be doing those things which 
 they prescribed to others. But they said and did 
 not ; they bound heavy burdens and grievous to be 
 borne on other men's shoulders, while they them- 
 selves would not touch them with one of their 
 fingers. It was high time for a reformer to appear, 
 and the work fell to Jesus. 
 
 The first outburst of His reformatory zeal was 
 at the outset of His ministry, when He drove the 
 buyers and sellers out of the Temple. Their practices 
 had probably commenced with good intentions : they 
 sold oxen and doves for sacrifice to the worshippers 
 from foreign countries, who came in tens of thousands 
 to Jerusalem at the feast and could not easily bring 
 these animals with them ; and they exchanged the 
 coins of Jerusalem for those of foreign countries, 
 in which the strangers of course had brought their 
 money. It was a necessary thing ; but it had 
 grown to be a vast abuse ; for exorbitant prices 
 were charged for the animals and exorbitant rates of 
 exchange demanded ; the traffic was carried on with 
 such din and clamour as to disturb the worship ; and 
 
CHRIST IN THE CHURCH. 8i 
 
 it took up SO much room that the Gentiles were 
 elbowed out of the court of the Temple which be- 
 longed to them. In short, the house of prayer had 
 become a den of thieves. Jesus had no doubt noted 
 the abuse with holy anger many a time when visiting 
 the Temple at the feasts ; and, when the prophetic 
 spirit descended on Him and His public ministry 
 began, it was among His first acts to clear it out of 
 the house of God. The youthful Prophet, with His 
 scourge of cords, flaming above the venal crowd, that, 
 conscious of their sin, fled, amidst tumbling tables 
 and fleeing animals, from before His holy ire, is a 
 perfect picture of the Reformer. 
 
 It is said that the high-priestly families derived an 
 income from this unholy traffic, and it is not likely 
 that they felt very kindly to One who thus invaded 
 their vested interests. In like manner He aroused 
 the resentment of the Pharisaic party by turning 
 into ridicule their long and pretentious prayers and 
 the trumpets they blew before them when they were 
 giving alms. He could not but expose these prac- 
 tices, for the people had learned to revere as the 
 flower of piety that which was the base weed of 
 vulgarity and pride. He had to consent to be 
 frowned upon as a man of sin because He neglected 
 the fasts and the Sabbatic extravagances which He 
 knew to be no part of religion ; and still more 
 
 6 
 
82 IMAGO CHRIST!, 
 
 because He mingled with publicans and sinners, 
 though He knew this to be the very course of 
 divine mercy. He was compelled at last to pluck 
 the cloak of hypocrisy entirely away from the reli- 
 gious characters of the day and expose them in 
 their true colours as blind leaders of the blind and 
 whited sepulchres, which appeared fair outside, but 
 inwardly were full of dead men's bones. 
 
 Thus He cleared away the human additions piled 
 about the house of God and let the true Temple once 
 more be seen in its own fair proportions. But He 
 had to pay the penalty. The priests, the stream of 
 whose sinful gains He had stopped, and the Pharisees, 
 whose hypocrisy He had exposed, pursued Him with 
 hatred that never rested till they saw Him on the 
 cross. And so, in addition to the name of reformer, 
 He earned the name of Martyr, and Himself became 
 the leader of the noble army of martyrs which in a 
 thin line deploys through the centuries. 
 
 Not a few of that army have also been reformers. 
 They have risen against the abuses of the Church 
 of their day and perished in the attempt. For the 
 New Testament Church is no more free t-han was the 
 Old Testament Church from the danger of being 
 a scene of abuses. The condition of the Christian 
 Church at the time of those men of God to whom 
 we are wont specially to apply the title of the 
 
CHRIST IN THE CHURCH. 83 
 
 Reformers was remarkably like the state of the Old 
 Testament Church in the time of Christ : man's 
 additions had completely overlaid God's handiwork ; 
 religion had been transformed from an institution for 
 the administration of God's grace into a round of 
 forms and ceremonies for procuring God's favour 
 by human merit ; and the ministers of religion had 
 become blind leaders of the blind. By the Reforma 
 tion God delivered His Church from this state 
 of things ; and never since, we may hope, has there 
 been anything like the same need of reform. It 
 would be vain, however, to suppose that in our time 
 or in the section of the Church to which we may 
 belong there are no abuses needing the reformer's 
 fan. Though we may be insensible of them, this 
 is no proof that they do not exist ; for the Church 
 even in its worst days has been unconscious of its 
 own defects, till the proper man has appeared and 
 pointed them out ; and in all ages there have been 
 those who have believed themselves to be doing God 
 service when resisting the most necessary changes.* 
 
 * Schism is the caricature of Reform. But Schismatic is often 
 merely a nickname given to the true Reformer ; and even real 
 schism nearly ahvays indicates the need for reform, as Schlcier- 
 macher has proved in the profound discussion of Church Reform 
 in his Chrisiliche Sitte. He says : 
 
 " Um also nichtigen Versuchen zu vvehren, bedarf es zuvoiderst 
 der Untervveisung zu richtigem Schriftverstimdnisse, und dann 
 
84 JMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 III. 
 
 The name Reformer, where it is truly deserved, 
 is a great one in the Church ; but to Jesus belongs 
 one much greater ; for He was the Founder of the 
 Church. 
 
 The old Church in which He was brought up 
 was ready to vanish away. It had served its day 
 and was about to be taken down. He Himself 
 prophesied that of the Temple there would soon not 
 
 muss audi immer das Bewusstsein ervveckt werden, dass ein 
 volliges Verstehen der Schrift nicht anders moglich ist, als auf 
 dem Wege der gelehiten Bildung. Ware' in beider Hinsicht 
 immer besser gesorgt gewesen, so wiirden viele Abnormitaten 
 nicht entstanden sein. Dazu kommt aber noch etvvas anderes. 
 Es tritt namlich nur zu oft der Fall ein, dass die Ehrfurcht, 
 welche die Laien haben fiir die Wissenden als solche und fiir die 
 Kirchenreprasentation als Amt, ganzlich wieder aufgehoben vvird 
 durch die geringe personliche Ehrfurcht, welche die Mitglieder 
 der Reprasentation und in welchen sonst das geschichtliche Leben 
 ist einflossen. Wie sollte auch der Laie beides vereinigen, 
 auf der einen Seite sich iiber jenen wissen in Beziehung auf 
 Sittlichkeit und religiose Kraft, und auf der anderen Seite sich 
 ihrer hoheren Erkenntniss unterordnen. Der geistliche Hoch- 
 muth wiirde also in den einzelnen nicht entstehen, wenn er nicht 
 immer Vorschub fande einerseits in der Unvollkommenheit der 
 Organisation, und andererseits darin, dass nicht Anstalten genug 
 getroffen tind zur Verbreitung des richtigen Schriftverstandnisses, 
 und die Menge jencr verkehrten Versuche in unserer Kirche ist 
 ein sicheres Thermometer fiir den Zustand des ganzen in diescr 
 Hinsicht. Wir werden auch des Uebels nicht Herr werden, ehe 
 die Griinde desselben gehoben sind." 
 
CHRIST IN THE CHURCH. 85 
 
 be left one stone above another ; He told the woman 
 of Samaria that the hour was coming when they 
 would neither in Gerizim nor yet on Mount Zion 
 worship the Father, but the true worshippers every- 
 where would worship Him in spirit and in truth ; 
 and, when He died, the veil of the Temple was rent 
 in twain from the top to the bottom. 
 
 He founded the Church of the New Testament 
 in His own blood. By the shedding of His blood 
 He abolished the imperfect relation between God 
 and men mediated by the blood of bulls and of 
 goats, and established a new and better relationship. 
 So He said in instituting the Lord's Supper, " This 
 is the new covenant in My blood." The new house 
 of God is illuminated with the perfect revelation 
 made by Him of the Father ; and in it are adminis- 
 tered the new and richer blessings purchased by His 
 life and death. 
 
 But in building the new house of God its Founder 
 did not wholly discard the materials of the old.* 
 
 * The apparent contradiction between speaking of Christ both 
 as the Reformer of the old and the Founder of the new is partly 
 due to the contradiction, expounded in the preceding chapter, 
 between the will of God and the will of man. To finite eyes it 
 cannot but seem that He was striving earnestly for ends which 
 were not realised, and that the results of His life were different 
 from His intentions. Besides, old and new are terms which may 
 both be applicable to the same object at the same time. It is 
 more orthodox to speak of the Christian Church as the same 
 
86 IMAGO CHRISTI, 
 
 He instituted the Lord's Supper in the very elements 
 with which on the evening of its institution He and 
 His disciples were celebrating the Passover. The 
 forms of worship and office-bearers of the Christian 
 Church bear a close resemblance to those of the 
 synagogue. Above all, the Scriptures of the Old 
 Testament, with the figures of their saints and 
 heroes, form part of the same volume as the 
 Scriptures of the New. 
 
 Jesus Himself did not draw out in detail the 
 plan of the New Testament Church. He contented 
 Himself with laying its foundation, which none else 
 could have done, and sketching the great outlines of 
 its structure. He entrusted to it His Gospel, with 
 the sacred charge to preach it to every creature ; 
 He gave to it the twelve apostles, whose labours and 
 inspired teachings might serve as the second course 
 of foundation-stones laid above the foundation 
 which He had laid Himself; He empowered its 
 officers to admit to, and exclude from, its fellowship ; 
 He instituted the sacram.ents of baptism and the 
 Lord's Supper ; and, above all. He left with His 
 Church the promise, which is her star of hope in 
 
 with that of the Old Testament ; but it is perhaps more scriptural 
 to speak of it as a new Church. That is to say, orthodoxy 
 emphasizes the element which is common to both dispensations, 
 whilst Scripture emphasizes what is distinctive in the new. 
 
CHRIST IN THE CHURCH. 87 
 
 every age : " Lo, I am with you always, even to the 
 end of the world." 
 
 This foundation-laying work of Christ was done 
 once for all and cannot be repeated. Men dream 
 sometimes of the Christian Church passing away 
 and something more advanced taking its place. But 
 *' other foundation can no man lay." Only the 
 building up of the Church on this foundation is now 
 left to us. This, however, is part of the same work 
 and may be done in the same spirit in which He laid 
 the foundations. 
 
 In the first place, those who undertake it require 
 to see to it that they build straight on the founda- 
 tion. There is much that passes for Christian work 
 that will not in the end be acknowledged by Christ, 
 because it is not building on the foundation which 
 He has laid. If that new covenant in His blood 
 be ignored in which He declared His own work to 
 consist, or if the foundations laid by His apostles in 
 His name are not recognised, we may build a church 
 of our own, but He will not recognise our labour. 
 
 All who take part in this work ought to build 
 with His holy ardour. He thought it worth while 
 to die for the sake of redeeming the souls of men ; 
 what sacrifices are we prepared to make in contri- 
 buting to the same end t He gave His life ; will 
 we give up our ease, our effort, our money .? It was 
 
IMAGO CHRISTl. 
 
 because He believed every single soul was more 
 precious than a world that He died to save the souls 
 of men. Are they precious in our eyes ? Does 
 their fate haunt us ? does their sin grieve us ? would 
 their salvation fill us with aught of the joy that 
 thrills the angels in heaven when one sinner is 
 converted ? * 
 
 There is needed, however, not only zeal, but con- 
 secrated originality as well, in building this edifice. 
 As I said, Jesus did not prescribe the minute details 
 of the organization of the Church. He largely left 
 it to human ingenuity to find out how best His 
 work may be done ; and the Church is only finding 
 out still. New problems arise for her to solve, 
 new tasks to be performed, and therefore she needs 
 inventors and pioneers to devise the plans for her 
 new enterprises and open up the way to new con- 
 quests. It is impossible, for example, to measure 
 the blessing which that man conferred on the 
 
 * " Christianity would sacrifice its divinity if it abandoned 
 its missionary character and became a mere educational institu- 
 tion. Surely this Article of Conversion is the true articuhis 
 staiitis aiit cade7itis ecclesicB. When the power of reclaiming the 
 lost dies out of the Church, it ceases to be the Church. It may 
 remahi a useful institution, though it is most likely to become 
 an immoral and mischievous one. Where the power remains, 
 there, whatever is wanting, it may still be said that 'the taber- 
 nacle of God is with men.' " — Ecce Homo. 
 
CHRIST IN THE CHURCH. 
 
 Church who instituted Sabbath schools. He was 
 no dignitary of the Church nor perhaps in any way 
 a remarkable man, except in this — that he saw a 
 vast work needing to be done and had originality 
 to discover the best way of doing it. He led the 
 way into the children's world, and ever since he has 
 been supplying the best of work for the myriads 
 of willing reapers who have followed him into that 
 most attractive portion of the harvest-field. There 
 are plenty of other tasks awaiting solution from 
 sanctified Christian genius ; and I know no prize 
 more to be coveted than that of being the first to 
 show how Christian thought may exploit some new 
 mine of spiritual knowledge, or Christian character 
 rise to a new level of spiritual attainment, or Christian 
 zeal reach the spiritual wants of some neglected 
 section of the community. 
 
V. 
 
 CHRIST AS A FRIKND 
 
Matt. X. 2-4. Luke viii. 1-3. 
 
 »> XI. 7-n. ^^ X. 3S-42. 
 
 >. xvii. I, 2. ,, xii. 4. 
 
 „ xviii. 6-10. John i. 35-51, 
 
 M xxi. 17. ^^ xi. 
 
 ,, xxvi. 14-16, 37, 38, 40, 50. „ xii. 1-7. 
 
 ,, xxvii. 3-5, 55-61. . „ xiii. 1-5, 23. 
 
 Mark V. 37. ^^ XV. 13-15. 
 
 ,, xiii. 3, 4. ^^ xix. 27. 
 
I 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CHRIST AS A FRIEND. 
 
 I. 
 
 T has been advanced as an objection to the New 
 Testament that it never recommends friendship, 
 and, while supplying rules for the behaviour to one 
 another of husbands and wives, parents and children, 
 brothers and sisters, gives none for the intercourse 
 of friend with friend.* 
 
 Various reasons have been suggested to account 
 for this singular om.ission. But, before entering 
 
 * In an argument designed to prove that Christianity is 
 unfavourable to friendship, the fact might be adduced, that the 
 best book on the subject is from the pen of a heathen. From the 
 classical age of English theology we have two treatises on the 
 subject, one from the Royalist side by Jeremy Taylor, the other 
 from the Puritan side by Richard Baxter; but neither possesses 
 the exquisite flavour of Cicero's De Ainicitid. The Lysis of Plato 
 is interesting, as opening some of the difficulties of the subject, 
 but it is not an important dialogue. Shakspeare also has dis- 
 cussed some of the difficulties in Two Noble Kinsmen and Two 
 Gentlemen of Verona, and he has given the whole subject an 
 exquisite embodiment in The Mcrdiant of Venice. But the 
 glory of English literature in this department is /// Mrvinriam. 
 
94 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 upon these, it would be well to make sure that the 
 omission itself is a reality. Is it true that the New 
 Testament omits all reference to friendship ? 
 
 I venture, on the contrary, to affirm that the New 
 Testament is the classical place for the study of this 
 subject. The highest of all examples of friendship 
 is to be found in Jesus ; and His behaviour in this 
 beautiful relationship is the very mirror in which all 
 true friendship must see and measure itself. 
 
 It is objected, indeed, that this instance is inad- 
 missible, because Jesus sustained to those who may 
 be calle d His friends the higher relationship of 
 Saviour ; and between those standing on such 
 different levels, It is contended, real friendship was 
 Impossible. 
 
 But He Himself called the Twelve His friends : 
 '* Henceforth I call you not servants, but friends." 
 From among the Twelve He made special com- 
 panions of three — Peter, James and John ; and 
 of these three John was specially the disciple whom 
 Jesus loved. We are told that "Jesus loved Martha 
 and her sister and Lazarus ;" and this notice surely 
 Implies that He stood in an attitude of peculiar 
 friendliness towards the members of the family of 
 Bethany. Merely as the Saviour, He is hardly 
 to be thought of as loving one of those He has 
 saved more than another ; He loves them all alike. 
 
CHRIST AS A FRIEND. 95 
 
 But in the cases just quoted He showed preferences 
 for some of His followers over others ; and this 
 seems to prove that within the wider and higher 
 relationship between Saviour and saved there was 
 scope for the strictly human tie of friendship. 
 
 II. 
 
 Among those who have written on the subject 
 of friendship it has been discussed whether the best 
 friend is he who loves most or he who bestows the 
 greatest benefits. 
 
 Much may be said on both sides ; for, on the one 
 hand, there is an infinite solace in the sincere affec- 
 tion of even the humblest friend, however unable 
 he may be to render any material service ; and, on 
 the other hand, in the perplexities and misfortunes 
 of life, which coir e to all, it is an unspeakable 
 advantage to have one with a sound judgment and 
 a helpful hand, who will interest himself in our 
 affairs as if they were his own, because he is our 
 friend. Yet I venture to think that neither of these 
 is the pearl of friendship ; there is something in it 
 more valuable than either. 
 
 Let any one who has drunk deeply of this well- 
 spring of happiness look back and ask what has 
 been the sweetest ingredient in it : let him recall 
 the friend of his heart, whose image is associated 
 
96 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 with the choicest hours of his experience ; and then 
 let him say what is the secret and the soul of his 
 satisfaction. If your friendship has been of a high 
 order, the soul of it is simply the worth of him 
 you are allowed to call your friend. He is genuine 
 to the core ; you know him through and through, 
 and nowhere is there any twist or doubleness or 
 guile. It may be a false and disappointing world, 
 but you have known at least one heart that has 
 never deceived you ; and, amidst much that may 
 have happened to lower your estimate of mankind, 
 the image of your friend has enabled you always to 
 believe in human nature. Surely this is the incom- 
 parable gain of friendship — fellowship with a simple, 
 pure and lofty soul. 
 
 If it is, what must have been the charm of the 
 friendship of Jesus ! If even the comparatively 
 common and imperfect specimens of human nature 
 we have known can make impressions so delightful, 
 what must it have been to see closely that heart 
 which was always beating with the purest love to 
 God and man, that mind which was a copious and 
 ever-springing fountain of such thoughts as have 
 been preserved to us in the Gospels, that character 
 in which the minutest investigation has never 
 detected a single spot or wrinkle ! As we read 
 the records of the great and good, we cannot help 
 
CHRIST AS A FRIEND. 97 
 
 sometimes wishing it had been our lot to follow 
 Plato in his garden, or to hear the table-talk of 
 Luther, or to sit with Bunyan in the sunshine of the 
 streets of Bedford, or to listen to Coleridge bodying 
 forth the golden clouds of his philosophy. But what 
 would any such privilege have been in comparison 
 with that of Mary,* who sat at Jesus' feet and heard 
 His words ; or that of John, who leant on His bosom 
 and listened to the beating of His heart ? 
 
 HI. 
 
 If that which has just been mentioned is the 
 prime excellence of friendship, love holds in it 
 the second place. 
 
 Friendship is not the mere claim which one man 
 may make on another because he was born in the 
 
 * The heathen held woman to be unfit for this relationship, 
 and too many Christian thinkers have followed in their footsteps, 
 alleging such pleas as that a woman cannot keep a secret or that 
 she cannot give counsel in affairs of difficulty. But Jesus " loved 
 Martha and her sister ; " some of His friends were women. Thus 
 He vindicated the right of women to this honourable position, 
 and hundreds of the best and manliest of His servants have 
 since experienced the solace and strength springing from the 
 friendship of good women ; and, as one of them (Jeremy Taylor) 
 has said, " a woman can love as passionately, and converse as 
 pleasantly, and retain a secret as faithfully, and be useful in her 
 proper ministries ; and she can die for her friend as well as any 
 Roman knight." 
 
 7 
 
98 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 same village or sat on the same bench at school ; 
 it is not the acquaintance of nei|^hbours who have 
 learned to like one another by daily gossiping from 
 door to door, but would, if separated, forget one 
 another in a month ; it is not the tryst of roysterers, 
 or the chance acquaintance of fellow-travellers, or 
 the association of the members of a political party.* 
 In real friendship there is always the knitting of 
 soul to soul, the exchange of heart for heart. In 
 the classical instance of friendship in the Old Testa- 
 ment, its inception is exquisitely described : " And it 
 came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking 
 unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with 
 the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his 
 own soul." A union like this is formed not to be 
 broken, and, if it is broken, it can only be with the 
 tearing of the flesh and the loss of much blood. 
 
 I cannot, however, agree with those who maintain 
 that true friendship, like wedded love, can have but 
 
 Zu trauter Freundschaft ist es nicht genug, 
 Dass man auf Du und Du ein Glas geleert, 
 Auf Einer Schulbank bei einander sass, 
 In Einem Cafe oft zusammentraf, 
 Sich auf der Strasse hoflich unterhielt, 
 Im selben Club dieselben Lieder sang, 
 Als Publicisten Eine Farbe trug, 
 Auch in der Presse sich einander pries.** 
 
 Baggesen, quoted by Miirtensen. 
 
CHRIST AS A FRIEND. 99 
 
 one object at a time. One of the finest spirits of 
 our century, a thinker conversant with all the heights 
 and depths of man's relationships with man,* has 
 argued strongly in favour of this position, and he 
 silences all objectors by replying that, if you think 
 you have more friends than one, this only proves 
 that you have not yet found the true one. But this 
 is to misinterpret the nature of this affection, and 
 force on it a rule belonging to quite a different 
 passion. At all events, the example of Christ 
 appears to support this view, and to prove that in 
 friendship there may be different degrees, and that 
 the heart is capable of enjoying several friendships 
 at the same time. 
 
 IV. 
 
 The love of friends is an active passion, and 
 delights in rendering services and bestowing benefits. 
 
 So sensible of this were the ancients that, in 
 discussing the duties of friendship, what they asked 
 was, not how much one friend ought to do for 
 another, but where the limit was at which he ought 
 to stop. They took it for granted that he would 
 do, suffer and give all he could for his friend's 
 
 * RoTHE. See his Ethik, vol. iv., p. 67. Germany is fortunate 
 in having such examples of friendship among its greatest men as 
 that of Luther and Melanchthon, and that of Goethe and Schiller 
 
IMAGO CHRIST!, 
 
 sake ; and they only prescribed to him to restrain 
 himself at the point v/here his zeal might clash 
 with some still higher obligation to his family, his 
 country or his God. In accordance with this they 
 represented friendship in art as a young man bare- 
 headed and rudely attired, to signify activity and 
 aptness for service. Upon the fringe of his garment 
 was written Death and Life, as signifying that in 
 life and death friendship is the same. On his 
 forehead was inscribed Stnniner and Winter, mean- 
 ing that in prosperity or adversity friendship knows 
 no change except in the variety of its services. The 
 left shoulder and the arm were naked down to the 
 heart, to which the finger of the right hand pointed 
 at the words Far and Near, which expressed that 
 true friendship is not impaired by time or dissolved 
 by distance.* 
 
 Of this feature in the friendships of Jesus it would 
 be easy to give examples ; but none could be more 
 striking than His behaviour at the death and re- 
 surrection of Lazarus. Every step of His on this 
 occasion is characteristic. His abiding two days 
 still in the place where He was, after receiving the 
 news of His friend's death, in order to make the 
 gift He was about to bestow more valuable ; His 
 
 * From Jeremy Taylor's treatise on Friendship 
 
CHRIST AS A FRIEND. 
 
 venturing into Judaea in spite of the dangers He 
 was exposed to and the fears of the Twelve ; His 
 fanning into flame of Martha's weak faith ; His 
 secret sending for Mary, that she might not miss 
 the great spectacle; His sympathy with the emotions 
 of the scene, so intense that He wept and the spec- 
 tators exclaimed, " Behold, how He loved him ; " 
 His preparation of the sisters, by His prayer, for 
 the shock of seeing their brother emerging from the 
 sepulchre in his graveclothes ; and then the bene- 
 faction of his resurrection — all these are traits of a 
 love that was delicate as a woman's heart, strong 
 as death and bountiful as heaven. 
 
 But friendship can sometimes show its strength 
 as much by the readiness with which it accepts 
 benefits as by the freedom with which it gives them. 
 It proves by this its confidence in the love on the 
 other side. Jesus gave such a proof of the depth of 
 His friendship for John when, hanging on the cross, 
 He asked the beloved disciple to adopt Mary as 
 his ov/n mother. Never was there a more delicate 
 expression given to friendship. Jesus did not ask 
 him if he would ; He took his devotion for granted ; 
 and this trust was the greatest honour that could 
 have been conferred on the disciple. 
 
IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 V. 
 
 It is a well-known characteristic of friendship that 
 friends enjoy being in each other's company and 
 hearing each other talk, and that they admit one 
 another to the knowledge of secrets which they 
 would not reveal to the world at large. 
 
 It is the commonest saying abou^two very in- 
 timate friends, that if you are seeking the one, you 
 will do best to resort to the abode of the other. 
 In each other's company they are at peace ; speech 
 between them is hardly necessary, for they have a 
 subtler way of divining thought and feeling, and it 
 is a precious privilege of friends to be silent in each 
 other's company without awkwardness. Yet, when 
 the gates of speech are opened, there is an out- 
 pouring of the mind's wealth such as takes place 
 in no other circumstances. For nothing needs to be 
 concealed. The shy thought, which scarcely ventured 
 to show its face even to its own creator, is tempted 
 out ; the hardy opinion utters itself without fear ; 
 confidence is responded to with confidence; like 
 two coals, burning feebly apart, which, when flung 
 together, make a merry blaze, so mind and mind 
 burn as they touch, and emit splendours which 
 nothing but this contact could evoke. He is ignorant 
 of one of the most glorious prerogatives of manhood 
 
CHRIST AS A FRIEND. 103 
 
 who does not carry, treasured in his mind, the 
 recollection of such golden hours of the feast of 
 reason and' the flow of soul. 
 
 Jesus expressly chose the Twelve "that they 
 might be with Him." For three years they were 
 His constant companions ; and often He would 
 take them away into uninhabited spots or on 
 distant journeys for the express purpose of enjoying 
 with them more uninterrupted intercourse. In the 
 Gospel of St. John we have notes of these conver- 
 sations, and from the wide contrast between the 
 sayings of Jesus in this Gospel and those reported in 
 the Synoptists, which rather represent His addresses 
 to the people at large, we may perceive how fully 
 in these interviews He opened to the Twelve His 
 secret mind. And the kind of impressions which 
 they received from these confidences may be learned 
 from the saying of the two with whom He conversed 
 on the way to Emmaus : "Did not our heart burn 
 within us as He talked with us by the way, and as 
 He opened to us the Scriptures 1 " 
 
 The minds of the most favoured apostles especially 
 carried in subsequent years the priceless memory of 
 many great hours like this, when, with hearts lost in 
 wonder, they gazed into the vast and mystic realm 
 of the thoughts of Christ. And they were vouch- 
 safed a (qw hours even greater, when He took them 
 
104 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 away with Him to pray ; as He did, for instance, 
 when they beheld His glory in the Holy Mount, 
 or when He invited them to watch with Him in 
 Gethsemane. Never surely was He so unmistakably 
 the human friend as when, on the latter occasion, 
 He threw Himself on their sympathy, entreating 
 them to be near Him in His agony. 
 
 These scenes excite our wonder that any should 
 have been admitted so far into His secret life. 
 Were not these hours of prayer especially too 
 sacred for any mortal eyes to see .'* That His friends 
 were admitted to them proves that it is a prerogative 
 of friendship to be admitted far into the secrets of 
 religious experience. 
 
 It is a truncated and most imperfect friendship 
 when the gateway of this region is closed ; for it 
 means that the one friend is excluded from the most 
 important province of the other's life. Hence it 
 may be affirmed that friendship in its highest sense 
 can exist only between Christians;* and even they 
 
 * " Ihre hochste Intensitiit hat die Freundschaft als religiose 
 Freundschaft, als Wahlanziehung der Freunde vermoge der 
 specifischen Wahlverwandtschaft ihrer religiosen Individuali- 
 taten. Denn wegen der vvesentlich centralen Stellung der 
 Frommigkeit im Menschen ist die religiose specifische Sympathie 
 der Individuen wesentlich specifische Sympathie derselben nach 
 der Totalitat ihrer sittlichen Individualitat, nach dem ganzen 
 imersten Kern derselben." — Rothe, ChristUche EtJiik, vol. iv., 
 p. 68. 
 
CHRIST AS A FRIEND. 
 
 only taste the bloom on this cup when they have 
 arrived at the stage of free and frequent converse 
 on those themes which were native to the mouth 
 of Christ. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Friendship, like everything else, is tested by 
 results. If you wish to know the value of any 
 friendship, you must ask what it has done for you 
 and what it has made you. 
 
 The friendship of Jesus could stand this test. 
 Look at the Twelve ! Consider what they were 
 before they knew Him, and think what His influence 
 made them and what position they occupy now ! 
 They were humble men, some of them, perhaps, 
 with unusual natural gifts, but rude and undeveloped 
 everyone. Without Him they would never have 
 been anything. They would have lived and died in 
 the obscurity of their peasant occupations and been 
 laid in unmarked graves by the blue waters of the 
 Sea of Galilee. They would never have been heard 
 of twenty miles from home, and would all have 
 been forgotten in less than a century. But His 
 intercourse and conversation raised them to a place 
 among the best and wisest of the sons of men ; and 
 they now sit on thrones, ruling the modern world 
 with their ideas and example. 
 
io6 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 Our friendships, too, must submit to this test. 
 There are friendships so called which are like mill- 
 stones dragging down those who are tied to them 
 into degradation and shame. But true friendship 
 purifies and exalts. A friend may be a second 
 conscience. The consciousness of what he expects 
 from us may be a spur to high endeavour. The mere 
 memory that he exists, though it be at a distance, 
 may stifle unworthy thoughts and prevent unworthy 
 actions. Even when the fear of facing our own 
 conscience might not be strong enough to restrain 
 us from evil, the knowledge that our conduct will 
 have to encounter his judgment will make the com- 
 mission of what is base intolerable. 
 
 Among the privileges of friendship one of the 
 most valuable is the right of being told our faults by 
 our friend. There are ridiculous traits of character 
 in every man which all eyes see except his own ; 
 and there are dangers to character which the eye of 
 a friend can discern long before they are visible to 
 ourselves. It requires some tact to administer such 
 reproof, and it requires some grace to take it grate- 
 fully ; but " faithful are the wounds of a friend," and 
 there are few gifts of friendship more highly to be 
 prized than words of wise correction.* 
 
 * Cicero adds something more: " Ut igitur et rnoiiere et 
 moneri proprium est verse amicitiae, et alterum libere i'acere, 
 
CHRIST AS A FRIEND. 107 
 
 Whilst, however, we estimate the value of the 
 friendships we enjoy by their influence on us, it 
 is no less important to remember that our own 
 conduct in this relationship has to stand the same 
 test. Is it good for my friend that I am his 
 friend ? In the maturity of his fully- formed judg- 
 ment will he look back on the connection with 
 approval ? At the judgment-seat and in eternity 
 will he prize it ? A man will hesitate to answer 
 these questions ; but surely there is no object 
 worthier of intense desire and earnest prayer than 
 that our friendship may never be detrimental to 
 him we love — that it may never pull him down, 
 but help to raise and sustain him. Would it not 
 be a prize better than any earthly distinction, if in 
 
 non aspere, alterum patienter accipere, non repugnanter ; sic 
 habendum est, nullam in amicitiis pestem esse majorem, 
 quam adulationem, blanditiam, assentationem : multis enim 
 nominibus est hoc vitium notandum levium hominum atque 
 fallacium, ad voluntatem loquentium omnia, nihil ad veri- 
 tatem. Cum autem omnium rerum simulatio vitiosa est (toUit 
 enim judicium veri idque adulterat), tum amicitiae repugnat 
 maxime : delet enim veritatem, sine qua nomen amicitiae valere 
 non potest. Nam cum amicitiae vis sit in eo, ut unus quasi 
 animus hat ex phiribus, qui id fieri poterit, si ne in uno 
 quidem quoque unus animus erit idemque semper, sed varius, 
 commutabihs, multiplex? Quid enim potest esse tarn flexibile 
 tarn devium, quam animus eius qui ad alterius non modo sensum 
 ac voluntatem, sed etiam vultum atque nutum convertitur ?" — De 
 Ainicitid, cap. 25. 
 
io8 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 the distant years, when we are old and grey-headed, 
 or perhaps beneath the sod, there were one or 
 two who could say, "His influence was a redeeming 
 element in my life ; he made me believe in goodness 
 and think highly of human nature ; and I thank 
 God I ever knew him ?" 
 
 There is no way in which we can have any 
 guarantee of exerting such an influence except by 
 keeping ourselves in contact with the great source 
 of good influence. Christ was the friend of Peter 
 and John and James, of Martha and Mary and 
 Lazarus, in Palestine long ago. But He is still the 
 friend of men ; and, if we wish it, He will be ours. 
 There are those who walk with Him and talk with 
 Him. They meet Him in the morning when they 
 awake ; He is with them in the street and at their 
 work ; they tell Him their secrets and appeal to 
 Him in every time of need ; they know Him better 
 than any other friend. And these are they who 
 have found the secret of existence and keep alive 
 the faith of mankind in the reality of the life of 
 Christ. 
 
VI 
 CHRIST IN SOCIETY 
 
Matt. xi. 16-19. Matt. xxvi. 6-13. 
 
 Luke XV. I, 2. Luke vii. 36-50. 
 
 ,, xix. 5-7. John ii. l-ii. 
 
 ,, xxiv. 41-43- » X"- i-S- 
 
 Luke xi. 37-44- ^^att. xiv. 15-21. 
 
 „ xiv. 1-24. „ xxvi. 26-30. 
 
 Luke xxiv. 29-31. 
 John xiii. I-15. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CHRIST IN SOCIETY. 
 
 T3EY0ND the narrow circle of those whom we 
 -■-^ properly call our friends, there is a large circle 
 of acquaintances, brought into connection with us in 
 various ways, which may be designated by the vague 
 term Society. Our intercourse with those to whom 
 we are thus related raises questions which are not 
 free from difficulty, but they receive light from the 
 study of the conduct of Jesus. 
 
 I. 
 
 In this relationship there was a remarkable 
 contrast between our Lord and His forerunner, the 
 Baptist. John shunned society, living in the desert 
 far from the abodes of men. His clothing was 
 unsuited for the house or the town, and he con- 
 fined himself to the ascetic fare of a hermit. The 
 Saviour, on the contrary, descended among His 
 fellowmen. Instead of waiting, like the Baptist, 
 till people went out to Him, He came to them. 
 
112 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 In village and city, in street and market-place, in 
 synagogue and Temple — wherever two or three 
 vv^ere gathered together, there was He in the midst 
 of them, He entered beneath men's roofs, to rejoice 
 with them when they were rejoicing and to weep 
 with them when they wept. It is astonishing how 
 often we read of His being at feasts. He began His 
 ministry by attending a wedding. Matthew made 
 Him a feast, and He went and sat down among the 
 publican's motley guests. He invited Himself to the 
 house of Zacchseus, another publican. Indeed, His 
 eating with this class of persons came to be notorious. 
 But, when people from the other end of the social 
 scale invited Him, He accepted their hospitality with 
 equal readiness and sat down as frankly with scribes 
 and Pharisees as among publicans and sinners. St. 
 Luke mentions at least three occasions when He 
 dined with Pharisees. Thus, " the Son of man 
 came eating and drinking." Indeed, so free was 
 His conduct in this respect, that sour and narrow- 
 souled critics were able to call Him a gluttonous 
 man and a wine-bibber. False as these nicknames 
 were, they derived a colour of truth from His way of 
 living ; none would ever have dreamed of applying 
 them to the Baptist. 
 
 This contrast is remarkable between two so 
 closely associated as John and Jesus. Both were 
 
CHRIST IN SOCIETY. 
 
 13 
 
 religious teachers, whose disciples imitated them ; 
 but in this particular their examples led in opposite 
 directions. The disciples of John fasted, while 
 Christ's disciples feasted. Could these opposite 
 courses both be justified ? 
 
 The Baptist no doubt had reasons for his con- 
 duct which satisfied himself There are dangers 
 in society. The lust of the flesh and the lust of 
 the eyes and the pride of life are there. Company 
 is the ruin of many a man and of many a family. 
 There are social circles in which religion would not 
 be tolerated, and there are others in which those 
 who profess it are under sore temptation to hide 
 their colours. The Baptist felt that these influences 
 were so predominant in the society of his day thai 
 neither he nor his followers could bear up against 
 them. The only alternatives between which they 
 had to choose were either, on the one hand, to flee 
 from society and keep their religion pure and entire 
 or, on the other, to enter it and lose their religion ; 
 and there could be no doubt which was the path of 
 duty.* Jesus, on the contrary, could go into society 
 
 * John was well aware, however, of the imperfection of his 
 own standpoint. " He pointed across to the sweetness, freedom 
 and glory of the new dispensation, as Moses from Pisgah saw 
 the land of promise." — Schleiermacher, Predigten, vol. iv. In 
 this volume there are four discourses which maybe called a kind 
 
 8 
 
/14 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 not only without striking His colours, but for the 
 purpose of displaying them. So completely was 
 His religious character the whole of Him, and so 
 powerful and victorious were His principles, that 
 there was no fear of any company He might enter 
 obscuring His testimony for God. And He lent 
 His followers the same power : He filled them with 
 an enthusiasm which wrought in them like new 
 wine ; they moved through the world with the free 
 and glad bearing of wedding guests ; and therefore 
 wherever they went they gave the tone to society ; 
 their enthusiasm was so exuberant that it was fai 
 more likely to set others on fire than to be 
 extinguished by worldly influences. 
 
 Here we seem to find the true answer to the 
 perplexing questions often raised as to how far 
 the people of God ought to venture into society 
 and take part in its engagements. What is its 
 effect on your religious life and profession } Does 
 it silence your testimony .''. does it cool down your 
 enthusiasm } does it secularise you and render you 
 
 of sketch of what has been attempted in this book. They are 
 entitled — 
 
 Christ as a Teacher. 
 
 Christ as a Miracle-Worker 
 
 Christ in Social Life. 
 
 Christ among His disciples. 
 
CHRIST IN SOCIETY. 
 
 unfit for prayer ? If so, then you must adopt the 
 Baptist's line of conduct and keep away from it, 
 or seek for company in which your principles will 
 be safe. But there are those who can venture 
 far into the world and yet everywhere be true to 
 their Saviour ; they are known as Christians wher- 
 ever they appear, and people respect their position ; 
 they would not go anywhere if they knew that theij 
 mouths were to be stopped on the subjects lying 
 nearest their hearts ; the energy of Christ in them is 
 so glowing and victorious a force that they mould the 
 society in which they are, instead of being moulded 
 by it. This may be a difficult attainment ; but 
 there can be no doubt that it is the attitude towards 
 the world most worthy of Christ's followers and 
 Hke to His own. ^ 
 
 II. 
 
 It has been mentioned how often He is recorded 
 to have been present at feasts. This part of His 
 conduct was of a piece with all the rest ; for 
 nothing He ever did, however trivial it might seem 
 to be, was unconnected with the grand mission 
 upon which He had come to the world. This 
 mission was to make known the love of Heaven 
 and to awaken and foster love on earth. He lived 
 to increase the love of man to God and the love of 
 
ii6 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 man to man ; and. nothing which could serve either 
 of these ends was unimportant in His eyes. 
 
 He encouraged hospitality because it promotes 
 one of these ends : it helps to break down the 
 obstacles which separate men and to bind them 
 together in the bonds of goodwill. When men meet 
 one another, the misconceptions and misunder- 
 standings which have caused estrangement dissolve 
 in the light of better acquaintance. How often 
 we come away from a first conversation with one 
 against whom we have entertained a prejudice with 
 the remark that he is not a bad fellow after all ; 
 and not unfrequently after a social rencontre we 
 carry away an enthusiastic admiration for a charac- 
 ter which we have previously considered proud, or 
 formal, or shallow. Our dislikes and suspicions 
 breed and grow great at a distance, but they die 
 at the touch of actual acquaintance. 
 
 Jesus did not regard even the courtesies of life 
 as beneath His notice and encouragement. These 
 foster respect between man and man, causing 
 us to think of one another as personalities, not 
 as things to be neglected or trampled on. Once 
 He was invited to dine at a house where the host 
 neglected to show Him the ordinary Oriental 
 courtesies. The man had no real regard for his 
 Guest, but invited Him for a selfish purpose of 
 
CHRIST IN SOCIETY. 117 
 
 his own. He wished to gratify his curiosity by 
 examining at leisure one who was the talk of the 
 country and to honour himself by having the dis- 
 tinguished man beneath his roof. But he felt it 
 to be a condescension, and he showed this by 
 omitting the courtesies which he bestowed on the 
 guests of his own standing. Jesus felt the slight ; 
 and, before leaving the table. He exposed Simon's 
 little and loveless heart, enumerating one by one,* 
 in tones of scathing indignation, the courtesies he 
 had grudged Him. He could not enjoy a loveless 
 feast. 
 
 Where, on the contrary, love was. He would 
 not have it controlled. When, at the feast of 
 another Simon, His gentle disciple Mary poured 
 her costly treasure on His head and brought down 
 on herself the reproaches of narrow hearts that 
 grudged the extravagance, Jesus defended her 
 against the pretended champions of the poor and 
 insisted on love having its way. 
 
 It is a violation of the sacrament of hospitality 
 
 * "Notanda sunt antitheta in quibus Simoni mulier praefertur : 
 nempe quod haec lachrymis suis rigavit Christi pedes, et capillis 
 abstersit, quum ille ne vulgarem quidem aquam dari jussisset : 
 quod haec non desierit osculari pedes, quum ille ne hospitali 
 quidem osculo dignatus esset Christum excipere : quod pretiosum 
 unguentum ilia effuderit in pedes, hie autem ne oleo quidem 
 caput unxerit." — Calvin, in loc. 
 
Ii8 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 when any other motive underlies it but love. Jesus 
 pointed the finger of condemnation at those who 
 extend hospitality only to guests who, they hope, 
 will extend it to them in turn, thus degrading it 
 to a business transaction. It is, if possible, a 
 meaner motive still to make it only an opportunity 
 of selfish display. Cumbrous luxury is the death 
 of true hospitality. It narrows the scope of it ; 
 for even the wealthy can indulge but seldom in 
 such extravagance, and people of humbler means 
 are not able to face it at all except at the risk 
 of ruin. This is one of the growing evils of the 
 present day. With the money spent on a single 
 tiresome feast, half a dozen simple and frugal 
 entertainments might be furnished forth, and thus 
 the scope of hospitality widened.* Instead of 
 
 * ** Hospitality is threefold : — for one's family, this is of neces- 
 sity ; for strangers, this is courtesy ; for the poor, this is charity. 
 
 " To keep a disorderly house is the way to keep neither 
 house nor lands. For whilst they keep the greatest roaring, 
 their state steals away in the greatest silence. Yet, when many 
 consume themselves with secret vices, then hospitality bears the 
 blame ; whereas it is not the meat but the sauce, not the supper 
 but the gaming after it, doth undo them. 
 
 " Measure not the entertainment of a guest by his estate, but 
 THINE OWN. Because he is a lord forget not that thou art but a 
 gentleman ; otherwise, if with feasting him thou breakest thyself] 
 he will not cure thy rupture, and (perchance) may rather deride 
 than pity thee." — Fuller, The Holy and Profane State. 
 
CHRJST IN SOCIETY. 119 
 
 gorging the wealthy, who have too much already, 
 influential entertainers might occasionally open their 
 doors to those younger and humbler than themselves, 
 and parents might assemble often round their tables 
 suitable company for their children, instead of 
 driving them to public places to seek occupation 
 for their hours of leisure. There is a mission of 
 social kindness still remaining to be opened up 
 as one of the agencies of Christianity. 
 
 III. 
 
 Though the encouragement of hospitality, and 
 through it of love, was one reason for which Jesus 
 went to the tables of those who invited Him, He 
 carried there a still higher purpose. When He 
 went to dine at the house of Zacchaeus, He said, 
 "To-day is salvation come to this house;" and 
 salvation came to n any a house when He entered 
 it. Hospitality affords unrivalled opportunities of 
 conversation, and Jesus made use of these to speak 
 words of eternal life. If you carefully examine 
 His words, you will be surprised to find how 
 many of them are literally table-talk — words spoken 
 to His fellow- guests at meals. Some of His most 
 priceless sayings, which are now the watchwords 
 of His religion, were uttered in these commonplace 
 circumstances, such as, " They that are whole have 
 
IMAGO CHRIST T. 
 
 no need of a physician, but they that are sick ; " 
 " The Son of man is come to seek and to save 
 that which was lost;" and many more. 
 
 This is an instance of how Jesus dignified Hfe 
 and found golden opportunities of doing good in 
 those elements of it which are often treated as 
 mere waste. The talk and the hilarity of the 
 table are a snare. Men of social charm often 
 use their gift to their own undoing and to the 
 injury of others. The meeting-place of boon com- 
 panions is to many the vestibule of ruin. Even 
 where sociality is not permitted to degenerate into 
 temptation, the conversation of the table is too 
 often allowed to lapse into triviality and stupidity; 
 and the meetings of friends, which might give 
 intellectual stimulus and kindle noble purpose, 
 become a weariness and satisfy nobody. It is a 
 rare gift to be able to lift conversation out of the 
 ditch and lead it to manly and profitable themes. 
 
 There have, however, been servants of God who 
 in this respect have followed very closely in the 
 footsteps of their Master. They have made con- 
 versation a delightful and profitable art ; and to 
 enjoy their company in the free interchange of social 
 intercourse has been an education in everything 
 good and true. A man of note recently deceased, 
 son of a father still more notable, has left a striking 
 
CHRIST IN SOCIETY. 12 1 
 
 picture of the circle of scholars and men of God 
 who used to be assembled round his father's 
 hospitable table, and of the wonder and delight 
 with which he and his brothers, then only children, 
 used to listen to the discussions and pick up the 
 crumbs of wisdom.* No parent can do his chil- 
 dren a better service than by making his house a 
 resort of the wise and good, in whom the keen 
 observation of childhood may see examples of 
 noble manhood and womanhood. " Be not for- 
 getful," says the Epistle to the Hebrews, " to enter- 
 tain strangers, for thereby some have entertained 
 angels unawares ; " on which one of the wise has 
 thus commented : " By exercising hospitality — by 
 treating with sympathy and hearty interest those 
 who are still in many respects strangers to us — by 
 showing ourselves kindly and opening our houses 
 
 *"Here almost every night, for long years, came Professors 
 Dod and Maclean, and frequently Professors J. W, Alexander, 
 Joseph Henry, and the older professors. A, Alexander, and 
 Samuel Miller, President Carnahan, and frequently, when visit- 
 ing the town. Professors Vethake and Torrey, and Dr. John W. 
 Yeomans. Thus, at least in the eyes of the young sons gleaming 
 out from the corners, from the shadows of which they looked on 
 with breathless interest, this study became the scene of the 
 most wonderful debates and discourses on the highest themes of 
 philosophy, science, literature, theology, morals, and politics." 
 • — Rev. Dr. A. A. Hedge in Pruicetoniana, by Rev. C. A. 
 Salmond, M.A. 
 
IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 to them, as circumstances permit and opportunities 
 offer — it may also happen to us to entertain angels ; 
 that is, men in whom we must recognise mes- 
 sengers sent to us from God, or from the world 
 of mind and ideas, and whose sojourn in our house, 
 whose conversation, whose influence on our souls, 
 may bring us a blessing far outweighing all we 
 can do for them." * 
 
 IV. 
 
 We have been looking at our Lord as the guest 
 of others ; but He comes before us in the Gospels 
 also as Himself an entertainer. 
 
 Jesus never, indeed, had a house of His own to 
 which He could invite people. But on the two 
 occasions when He fed the five thousand and the 
 four thousand He acted as entertainer on a colossal 
 scale. 
 
 It was a character in which He was thoroughly 
 Himself ; for it displayed His consideration for 
 the common wants of man. Spiritual as He was 
 and intent on the salvation of the soul, He never 
 undervalued or overlooked the body. On the 
 contrary, He recognised on it the stamp and honour 
 of its Maker, and He knew quite well that it is often 
 
 * Martensen, Christian Ethics, vol. iii. 
 
CHRIST IN SOCIETY, 123 
 
 only through the body that the soul can be reached. 
 The great majority of His guests were doubtless 
 poor, and it gratified His generous heart to confer 
 a benefit on them. It was, indeed, but common 
 fare He gave them ; * the table was the ground, 
 the tablecloth was the green grass, and the 
 banqueting hall was the open air ; but never did 
 His guests enjoy a better meal, for love presided 
 at the table, and it is love that makes an enter- 
 tainment fine. 
 
 As we see Him there, beaming with genial 
 delight over the vast company, it is impossible not 
 to think of such words of His as these : " I am 
 the bread of life ; " " The bread which 1 shall give 
 is My flesh, which I will give for the life of the 
 world." In His teaching He delighted to repre- 
 sent the gospel as a feast, to which He invited all 
 the sons of men in the beautiful spirit of a royal 
 host. 
 
 But nothing else shows so strikingly how charac- 
 teristic of Him this spirit was as the fact that 
 the memorial by which He has chosen to be remem- 
 bered to all generations is a feast. He might have 
 selected any one of a hundred other mementoes. 
 He might, for instance, have instituted among His 
 
 * " Barley loaves," the bread of the poor. 
 
124 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 followers a periodical fast. But this would have 
 been a thoroughly unsuitable memorial of Him ; 
 for His is a gospel of abundance, joy and union. 
 He chose what was fitting and truly significant ; 
 and so throughout all ages at the head of His own 
 table the Saviour sits in the character of Entertainer, 
 His face radiant with goodwill and His heart over- 
 flowing with generosity ; and over His head, on the 
 wall behind where He sits, these words are written, 
 " This Man receiveth sinners, and eateth with 
 them." 
 
VII. 
 
 CHRIST AS A MAN OF PRAYER 
 
Matt. xi. 25, 26. Matt. xiv. 23. 
 
 ,, xiv. 19. Mark i. 35. 
 
 ., xix. 13. ,, xiv. 22, 23. 
 
 ,, xxi. 12, 13. Luke v. 16. 
 
 „. xxvi. 53. 
 
 lAike ix. 18. Matt. xxvi. 36-44. 
 
 ,, xi. I. Luke vi. 12, 13. 
 John vi. 23. 
 
 ,, xiv. 16, 17. Luke iii. 21,22. 
 
 H xvii. ,, ix. 28, 29, 
 
 John xi. 41, 42. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CHRIST AS A MAN OF PRAYER. 
 
 I. 
 
 ^ I "HP^RE is surely a mystery in the prayers of 
 -*- Jesus. If, as we believe, He was no less 
 than God, how could God pray to God, or what 
 need could there be in His nature for the satisfaction 
 of which He required to pray ? 
 
 It may be a partial answer to this question to say 
 that all prayer does not consist of petitions arising 
 from the sense of need. Prayer, indeed, is often 
 spoken of, especially by those who wish to bring it 
 into ridicule, as if it consisted of nothing but a series 
 of demands addressed to God — to give' fine weather, 
 or to take away disease, or in some other way to 
 alter our circumstances in accordance with our 
 wishes. But it is not by those who pray that 
 prayer is thus spoken of. In the prayers of those 
 who pray most and best, petitions proper, I venture 
 to say, occupy only an inconsiderable place. Much 
 of prayer expresses the fulness of the soul rather 
 
128 IMAGO CHRISTL 
 
 than its emptiness. It is the overflow of the cup. 
 Prayer at its best is, if one may be allowed the 
 expression, conversation with God, the confidential 
 talk of a child who tells everything to his father. 
 There is a remarkable example of this in the 
 Confessions of St. Augustine. This great book is in 
 the form of a prayer from beginning to end ; yet 
 it narrates its author's history and expounds the 
 most important of his opinions. Evidently the good 
 man had got into the habit of doing all his deepest 
 thinking in the form of conversation with God. 
 
 If this be what prayer is, it is not difficult to 
 understand how the Eternal Son should have prayed 
 to the Eternal Father. Indeed, it is easy to see 
 that, in this sense, He must have prayed without 
 ceasing. 
 
 But this does not altogether clear up the mystery 
 of the prayers of Jesus ; for many of them were 
 undoubtedly expressions of the sense of want. " In 
 the days of His flesh. He offered up prayers and 
 supplications with strong crying and tears unto Him 
 that was able to save Him from death, and was 
 heard in that He feared." * How can we explain 
 a statement like this .? There is but one explanation 
 of it ; and it is His true humanity. It is only by 
 
 ♦ Heb. V. 7. 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF PRAYER. 129 
 
 accepting this truth in the fullest sense that we can 
 understand this aspect of His life. Christ was not 
 half a God and half a man, but perfectly God and 
 perfectly man. There are things about Him, and 
 there are statements of His own, to which justice 
 cannot be done without categorically calling Him 
 God. We may hesitate to utter this confession, but 
 the facts, unless we flinch from them, will compel us 
 to make it. On the other hand, there are other 
 things about Him which compel us in the fullest 
 acceptation of the term to call Him a man ; and we 
 are not honouring but dishonouring Him if we do 
 not accept this truth also in all its fulness and in all 
 its consequences. 
 
 He prayed, then, because He was a man. Humanity 
 even at its best is a feeble and dependent thing ; 
 it can never be self-sufficient. Even in Him it was 
 not sufficient for itself, but dependent on God from 
 day to day ; and He expressed His sense of depend- 
 ence by praying. Does this not bring Him very 
 near us .'* Verily He is our brother, bone of our 
 bone and flesh of our flesh. 
 
 But there is another lesson in it, and a graver 
 one. Although a man, Jesus was a sinless man. 
 At every stage of development His manhood was 
 perfect. He had no sinful past to weaken the force 
 of present effort, ^r^ He needed prayer and resorted 
 
 9 
 
130 IMAGO CHRIS TI. 
 
 to it continually. What a commentary on our need 
 of it ! If He needed it, being what He was, how 
 must we need it, being what we are. 
 
 n. 
 
 The life of prayer is a secret life, and everyone 
 who really loves prayer has habits of it known only 
 to himself Much of the prayerfulness of Jesus 
 must have lain beyond the observation of even His 
 disciples, and therefore is altogether unrecorded in 
 the Gospels. But some of His habits have been 
 preserved, and they are extremely interesting and 
 instructive. 
 
 He liked, when about to pray, to escape from the 
 house and from the town and go away out into the 
 natural solitudes. We read, " He went out and 
 departed unto a solitary place, and there prayed." 
 Elsewhere it is said, " He withdrew Himself into 
 the wilderness, and prayed." He seems to have 
 especially loved mountains as places of prayer. 
 When the statement is anywhere made that He went 
 up to a mountain to pray, commentators try to find 
 out, by examining the vicinity in which He was 
 sojourning at the time, which mountain it was He 
 ascended for this purpose. But in this, I think, 
 they are on the wrong track. In Palestine, as in 
 many parts of Scotland, there is mountain everywhere. 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF PRA YER. 131 
 
 A mile or two from any town you are out on it. 
 You have only to quit the houses, cross a few 
 acres of cultivated ground, and your feet are on 
 the turfy pastures, where you can be absolutely 
 alone. Jesus had, if we may so speak, made the 
 discovery that He could obtain this solitude any- 
 where ; and, when He arrived in a town, His first 
 thought was, which was the shortest road to the 
 mountain, — ^just as ordinary travellers inquire where 
 are the most noted sights and which is the best 
 hotel. 
 
 There is a solitude of time as well as a solitude 
 of space. What mountains and wildernesses are 
 to towns and cities, the night-time and the early 
 morning are to the day-time and the early night. 
 Jesus frequented this solitude too for prayer. We 
 hear of Him continuing the whole night in prayer 
 to God ; or it is said that He " rose up a great 
 while before day, and departed into a solitary place 
 to pray." 
 
 It may partly have been because, on account of 
 His poverty. He could not easily find solitude in the 
 houses in which He lodged that Jesus cultivated this 
 habit,* and this may ^w^ His example a special 
 
 * Many of us may be able to be quite alone in our own homes. 
 Jesus recognised this when He said : " Enter thou, when tbou 
 prayest, into thy closet ; and, when thou hast shut thy door, pray 
 
132 IMAGO CHRIST I. 
 
 interest for any whose circumstances expose them 
 to the same difificulty. But it is a discovery which 
 might immensely enrich us all if we were to realise 
 how easy it is to get into the natural solitudes. 
 There is scarcely a town out of which you cannot 
 escape in a very {^\\f minutes and find yourself quite 
 alone — on a bit of shore, or on a mountain, or in 
 a pasture or a wood. The town or city may be 
 thundering away quite near, with its imprisoned 
 multitudes bound on the treadmill of its toils or its 
 amusements ; but you are out of it and alone with 
 God. 
 
 There is more than mere solitude in such a 
 situation to assist prayer. There is a ministry of 
 nature which soothes the mind and disposes it to 
 
 to thy Father which is in secret." The essential thing is to have 
 the world shut out and to be alone with God. It is for this reason 
 that we shut our eyes in prayer : it is that our attention, being 
 withdrawn from all sights and sounds without, may be concen- 
 trated on the vision and the voices within. We may even so 
 familiarise ourselves with the inward world that we shall acquire 
 the habit of transporting ourselves into it at will at any hour 
 of the day and in any circumstances. Amidst the whirr of 
 machinery, in the bustle of the street, even in the midst of con- 
 versation, we may be able mentally to disappear out of time and 
 stand for an instant in eternity face to face with God ; and few 
 prayers are more precious than the momentary ejaculations 
 offered in the course of daily occupations. He who has acquired 
 this habit has a strong tower into which he can retreat in every 
 time of need. 
 
CUR 1ST AS A MAN OF PR A YER. 133 
 
 devotion. Never did I feel more strongly that 
 in this habit Jesus had laid bare one of the great 
 secrets of life than one day when I climbed all 
 alone a hill above Inveraray and lay on the summit 
 of it, musing through a summer forenoon. On 
 every hand there stretched a solitary world of 
 mountain and moorland ; the loch below was gleam- 
 ing in the sun like a shield of silver ; the town was 
 visible at the foot of the hill, and the passengers 
 could be seen moving in the streets, but no sound 
 of its bustle reached so high. The great sky was 
 over all ; and God seemed just at hand, waiting to 
 hear every word. It was in spots like this that 
 Jesus prayed. 
 
 He prayed, however, in company as well as in 
 solitude. We hear of Him again and again taking 
 two or three of His disciples away to pray with 
 them, and sometimes of Him praying with them all. 
 The Twelve were a kind of family to Him, and He 
 assiduously cultivated family worship. He spoke 
 too of the value of united prayer. " I say unto you, 
 that if two of you shall agree on earth as touching 
 anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for 
 them of My Father which is in heaven." United 
 prayer acts on the spirit very much in the same way 
 as conversation acts on the mind. Many a man's 
 intellect, when he is alone, is slow in its movements 
 
134 IMAGO CHRIST!, 
 
 and far from fertile in the production of ideas. 
 But, when it meets with another mind and clashes 
 with it in conversation, it is transformed : it be- 
 comes agile and audacious, it burns and coruscates, 
 and brings forth ideas out of its resources which 
 are a surprise even to itself* So, where two or 
 three are met together, the prayer of one strikes 
 fire from the soul of another ; and the latter in 
 his turn leads the way to nobler heights of devo- 
 tion. And lo ! as their joy increases, there is One 
 in their midst whom they all recognise and cling 
 to. He was there before, but it is only when their 
 hearts begin to burn that they recognise Him ; and 
 in a true sense they may be said to bring Him 
 there — " Where two or three are met together in 
 My name, there am I in the midst of them." 
 
 HI. 
 
 The occasions which call for prayer are innumer- 
 able, and it would be vain to attempt to count 
 
 * " Certain it is, that whosoever hath his Mind fraught with 
 many Thoughts, his Wits and Understanding do clarify and break 
 up, in the communicating and discoursing with Another : he 
 tosseth his Thoughts more easily ; he marshalleth them more 
 orderly ; he seeth how they look when they are turned into 
 Words ; finally, he waxeth wiser than himself, and that more by 
 an Hour's Discourse than by a Day's Meditation." — Bacons 
 Essays, xxvii : Of Friendship. 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF PRA YER. 135 
 
 them. Jesus undoubtedly had, as we have ourselves, 
 new reasons for praying every day ; but some of 
 the occasions on which He prayed are specially 
 instructive. 
 
 I. We find Him engaged in special prayer just 
 before taking very important steps in life. One of 
 the most important steps He ever took was the 
 selection from among His disciples of the Twelve 
 who were to be His apostles. It was an act on 
 which the whole future of Christianity depended ; 
 and what was He doing before it took place .? " It 
 came to pass in those days that He went into a 
 mountain to pray, and continued all night in prayer 
 to God ; and, when it was day, He called unto Him 
 His disciples, and of them He chose twelve, whom He 
 also named apostles." It was after this night-long 
 vigil that He proceeded to the choice which was to 
 be so momentous for Him and for them and for 
 all the world. There was another day for which, 
 we are told, He made similar preparation. It was 
 that on which He first informed His disciples that 
 He was to suffer and die. 
 
 Thus it is evident that, when Jesus had a day of 
 crisis or of difficult duty before Him, He gave Him- 
 self specially to prayer. Would it not simplify our 
 difficulties if we attacked them in the same way t 
 It would infinitely increase the intellectual insight 
 
136 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 with which we try to penetrate a problem and the 
 power of the hand we lay upon duty. The wheels 
 of existence would move far more smoothly and 
 our purposes travel more surely to their aims, if 
 every morning we reviewed beforehand the duties 
 of the day with God.* 
 
 2. Jesus appears to have devoted Himself specially 
 to prayer at times when His life was unusually full 
 of work and excitement. His was a very busy life ; 
 there were nearly always " many coming and going " 
 about Him. Sometimes, however, there was such a 
 congestion of thronging objects that He had scarcely 
 time to eat. But even then He found time to pray. 
 
 * In Nicoirs Life of Jesus Christ, pp. 178-80, an important con- 
 sideration is added: "Jesus Christ not only prayed before great and 
 decisive acts, but He prayed after them. . . . This teaches us much 
 which it is easy but fatal to miss. When we have done some great 
 work by immense expenditure of force, we are tempted to say 
 our part is done, — we cannot accompHsh more. Many a man 
 desires to end and crown his public life amidst the shoutings of 
 applause tor some victory or achievement. He would retire to 
 boast of it, and live all the rest of his days upon that proud 
 memory. Better it is to pray, — to pray, if it be God's will, for 
 new strength, for new if humbler efforts, and, if that is denied, 
 for blessing on what has been attempted or done. Jesus Christ 
 did not boast, He did not give up, but He recruited Himself for 
 new service by continuing in prayer to God. Another tempta- 
 tion is to pride. We are lifted above the simplicity and humility 
 in which we lived before. Our hearts swell, and we are tempted 
 to think our previous life mean and insignificant. Never are we 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF PRAYER. 137 
 
 Indeed, these appear to have been with Ilim seasons 
 of more prolonged prayer than usual. Thus we 
 read : " So much the more went there a fame abroad 
 of Him, and great multitudes came together to hear 
 and to be healed by Him of their infirmities ; but 
 He withdrew Himself into the wilderness and 
 prayed." 
 
 Many in our day know what this congestion of 
 occupations is : they are swept off their feet with 
 their engagements and can scarcely find time to eat. 
 We make this a reason for not praying ; Jesus 
 made it a reason for praying. Is there any doubt 
 
 further from God than when intoxicated by pride. In the pride 
 of their hearts the wicked angels fell, and we may fall too unless 
 we are delivered from their sin. Nothing will avail more effect- 
 ually to allay and silence our pride than prayer. In communion 
 with our Father our pride is chilled and destroyed. A kindred 
 temptation after great achievements is the temptation to profound 
 depression. When one has done one's utmost, and put forth the 
 whole force of life, one feels completely spent, as if work were 
 over. Men who have preached with power to multitudes of people 
 have told us of the terrible languor which succeeds a full outburst 
 of the heart. They have told us how they felt as if their life went 
 from them in that supreme effort, and could never be regained. 
 That is natural ; and we may learn from Jesus Christ how it is 
 to be met. Let us pray that by prayer and service we may be 
 taught to feel that our well-springs are in God, and that He who 
 strengthened and filled us for that achievement, which we fear 
 we can never repeat, can gird us, if He will, for new and nobler 
 work." 
 
138 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 which is the better course ? Many of the wisest 
 have in this respect done as Jesus did. When Luther 
 had a specially busy and exciting day, he allowed 
 himself longer time than usual for prayer beforehand. 
 A wise man once said that he was too busy to be 
 in a hurry ; he meant that, if he allowed himself to 
 become hurried, he could not do all that he had to 
 do. There is nothing like prayer for producing this 
 calm self-possession. When the dust of business 
 so fills your room that it threatens to choke you, 
 sprinkle it with the water of prayer, and then you 
 can cleanse it out with comfort and expedition. 
 
 3. We find Jesus engaging in special prayer when 
 about to enter into temptation. The greatest scene 
 of prayer in His life is undoubtedly Gethsemane. 
 As we enter that garden after Him, we fear almost 
 to look on the scene — it is so sacred and so passes 
 our understanding ; and we tremble as we listen to 
 the prayers rising from the ground where He lies. 
 Never were prayers heard like these. We cannot 
 fathom them ; yet much may be learned from them. 
 Let one lesson, however, suffice in the meantime : 
 He prayed on this occasion before entering into 
 temptation ; for at the gate of the garden, after the 
 agony was over. He said, " This is your hour and 
 the power of darkness." It was the commencement 
 of His final conflict with the powers of wickedness in 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF PR A YER. 139 
 
 earth and hell. But He had equipped Himself for 
 the conflict by the prayer in the garden beforehand, 
 and so He was able to go through all that followed 
 with unruffled dignity and with perfect success. His 
 strength was the strength of prayer. 
 
 What an illustration of contrast was presented on 
 that occasion by the weakness of the disciples ! For 
 them also the hour and the power of darkness began 
 at the gate of Gethsemane ; but it was an hour of 
 disaster and ignominious defeat. Why .? Because 
 they were sleeping when they ought to have been 
 praying. " Watch and pray," He had said, bending 
 over their prostrate forms, " lest yc enter into tempta- 
 tion." But they heeded not ; and so, when the hour 
 of temptation came, they fell. Alas ! their experi- 
 ence has often been ours also. The only armour in 
 which temptation can be successfully met is prayer ; 
 and, when the enemy is allowed to come upon us 
 before we have buckled it on, we have not a chance 
 of standing. 
 
 4. If any scene of prayer in our Lord's life may 
 compete in interest with this one, it is the last of all. 
 Jesus died praying. His last words were words ot 
 prayer. The habit of life was strong in death. It 
 may seem far off ; but this event will come to us 
 also. What will our last words be } Who can tell } 
 But would it not be beautiful if our spirit were so 
 
I40 
 
 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 Steeped in the habit of prayer that the language of 
 prayer came naturally to us at the last ? Many 
 have died with Christ's own last words on their lips. 
 Who would not covet them for his own ? " Father, 
 into Thy hands I commend My spirit." 
 
 IV. 
 
 If anyone were to go through the life of Christ 
 seeking for answers to His prayers, many of them, 
 I am persuaded, could be found. But I shall at 
 present refer only to two on which the Word itself 
 lays emphasis, and which are specially instructive. 
 
 The Transfiguration was an answer to prayer. 
 This is how it is introduced in one of the Gospels : 
 " And it came to pass about an eight days after 
 these sayings. He took Peter and John and James, 
 and went up into a mountain to. pray. And as He 
 prayed, the fashion of His countenance was altered, 
 and His raiment was white and glistering. And, 
 behold, there talked with Him two men, which were 
 Moses and Elias." I do not say that He was praying 
 for this alteration in His countenance and raiment, 
 or even for the privilege of talking with these wise 
 and sympathetic spirits about the work which He 
 was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. But yet, 
 I say, all this was in answer to the prayer He 
 was offering when it came. There are some who, 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF PR A YER. 141 
 
 disbelieving in the direct virtue of prayer to obtain 
 from God what it asks, yet believe in what they 
 call the reflex influence of prayer : they allow it does 
 you good to pray, even if you get nothing directly 
 by it, and even if there is no God to hear you. 
 This, taken as the whole theory of prayer, is a 
 mockery, as the simplest mind must perceive. But 
 it is none the less true that there is a most blessed 
 reflex influence of prayer. Prayers for goodness and 
 purity in a sense answer themselves ; for you cannot 
 pray for these things without in some measure re- 
 ceiving them in the very act. To lift up the soul to 
 God calms and ennobles it. It was this, I imagine, 
 that was the beginning of Christ's transfiguration. 
 The absorption and delight of communion with His 
 Father overspread His very face with beauty and 
 glory ; and through this outlet the inner glory leapt 
 forth. In some degree this happens to all who pray, 
 and it may happen in a high degree to those who 
 pray much. Moses, after being forty days in the 
 mount with God, shone with the same kind of light 
 as the disciples saw in their Master on the Holy 
 Mount ; and there is a spiritual beauty bestowed in 
 some degree on all God's saints who pray much 
 which is of the same nature and is the most precious 
 of all answers to prayer. Character flows from 
 the well-spring of prayer. 
 
142 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 The Other answer to prayer given to Jesus to 
 which I desire to call attention took place at His 
 baptism. Here is St. Luke's account of it : " Now 
 when all the people were baptized, it came to pass, 
 that Jesus also being baptized, and praying, the 
 heaven was opened, and the Holy Ghost descended 
 like a dove upon Him." It was when He was 
 praying that the Spirit was sent down upon Him, 
 and in all probability it was this which at the 
 moment He was praying for. He had just left His 
 home in Nazareth to begin His public work ; and 
 He was in immediate need of the Holy Spirit to 
 equip Him for His task. It is a forgotten truth 
 that Jesus was filled with the Holy Ghost ; but it 
 is one most clearly revealed in the Gospels. The 
 human nature of Jesus was from first to last depen- 
 dent on the Holy Ghost, being thereby made a fit 
 organ for the divine ; and it was in the strength 
 of this inspiration that all His work, as preacher, 
 miracle-worker and atoner, was done.* And if in 
 
 * " The Holy Spirit, in a peculiar manner, anointed Him with 
 all those extraordinary powers and gifts which were necessary 
 for the exercise and discharging of His office on the earth. Isa. 
 Ixi. I : ' The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me ; because the 
 Lord hath anointed Me to preach good tidings unto the meek : 
 He hath sent Me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim 
 liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them 
 that are bound,' It is the prophetical office of Christ, and His 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF PRA YER. 143 
 
 any measure our life is to be an imitation of His — 
 if we are to help in carrying on His work in the 
 world or in filling up what is lacking in His 
 sufferings — we must be dependent on the same 
 influence. But how are we to get it ? He has 
 
 discharge thereof in His ministry on the earth, which is intended. 
 And He apphes these words unto Himself with respect unto His 
 preaching of the Gospel (Luke iv. 18, 19) ; for this was that office 
 which He principally attended unto here in the world, as that 
 whereby He instructed men in the nature and use of His other 
 offices. . . . Hereunto was He fitted by this unction of the Spirit. 
 And here, also, is a distinction between the ' Spirit that was 
 upon Him,' and His being ' anointed to preach,' which contains 
 the communication of the gifts of that Spirit unto Him. . . . And 
 this collation of extraordinary gifts for the discharge of His 
 prophetical office was at His baptism (Matt. iii. 17). They were 
 not bestowed on the Head of the Church, nor are any gifts of the 
 same nature in general bestowed on any of His members, but 
 for use, exercise, and improvement. And that they were then 
 collated appears ; for, — 
 
 " I. Then did He receive the visible pledge \\\\\Qkv zoxi'^XTsx^di 
 Him in, and testified' unto others His calling of God to, the 
 exercise of His office; for then 'the Spirit of God descended 
 like a dove, and lighted upon Him : and, lo, a voice came from 
 heaven, saying, This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well 
 pleased ' (Matt. iii. 16, 17). Hereby was He 'sealed of God the 
 Father ' (John vi. 27) in that visible pledge of His vocation, setting 
 the great seal of heaven to His commission. And this also was 
 to be a testimony unto others, that they might own Him in His 
 office, now He had undertaken to discharge it (chap. i. 33). 
 
 " 2. He now entered on His public ministry, and wholly gave 
 Himself up unto His work; for before He did only occasionally 
 manifest the presence of God with Him, somewhat to prepare 
 
144 IMAGO CHRIS TI. 
 
 told US Himself : " If ye then, being evil, know how 
 to give good gifts unto your children, how much 
 more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy 
 Spirit to them that ask Him." Power, like 
 character, comes from the fountain of prayer. 
 
 the minds of men to attend unto His ministry, as when He filled 
 them with astonishment at His discourses with the doctors in 
 the Temple (Luke ii. 46, 47). And although it is probable that He 
 might be acted by the Spirit in and unto many such extraordinary 
 actions during His course of a private life, yet the fulness of gifts 
 for His work He received not until the time of His baptism, and 
 therefore before that He gave not Himself up wholly unto His 
 public ministry. 
 
 " 3. Immediately hereon it is said that He was ^fiill of the 
 Holy Ghost' (Luke iv. i). Before, He was said to 'wax strong 
 in spirit,' n^puvfieuos (ro(j)Laf, chap. ii. 40, ' continually filling '; 
 but now He is nXrjprjs UvevixaTos 'Ayiov (' full of the Holy Ghost'). 
 He was actually possessed of and furnished with all that fulness 
 of spiritual gifts which were any way needful for Him or useful 
 unto Him, or which human nature is capable of receiving." 
 
 Owen, Oh the Holy Spirit. 
 
VIII. 
 CHRIST AS A STUDENT OF SCRIPTURE 
 
 lO 
 
Matt. iv. 4, 7, lo. Luke iv. 16-27 
 
 V. 17, 48. ,, viii. 21. 
 
 VI. 29. „ xvi. 29, 30. 
 vii. 12. „ xxiii. 46. 
 viii. 4, II. ,. xxiv. 27. 
 ix. 13. 
 X. 15. 
 xi. 21, 24. 
 xii. 3-7. 39-42- 
 xiii. 14, 15. 
 
 XV. 7-9. John V. 39, 45, 46. 
 
 xix. 8, 18, 19. „ vi. 32, 45, 49. 
 
 xxi. 16, 42. „ vii. 19, 22. 
 
 xxii. 29-32, 35-40, 43-45, „ viii. 17, 37. 
 
 xxiv. 37-39. „ x. 34, 35. 
 
 xxvi. 30, 31, 53, 54. „ xiii 18. 
 
 xxvii. 46. „ xvii. 12. 14, 17 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 CHRIST AS A STUDENT OF SCRIPTURE. 
 
 I. 
 
 T T is probable that Jesus knew three languages. 
 
 ^ The language of His country was Aramaic ; 
 
 and some fragments of it, as they fell from His 
 lips, have been preserved to us in the Gospels, 
 such as TalitJia, cimii, the words with which He 
 raised the daughter of Jairus. But it is not 
 likely that He read the Scriptures in this His 
 native tongue. Sometimes, indeed, the quotations 
 of the Old Testament in the New do not tally 
 exactly with any form of the Old Testament now 
 in our hands, and the conjecture has been 
 hazarded that in such cases the quotations are 
 taken from an Aramaic version then in existence; 
 but this is no more than conjecture. 
 
 Another language He spoke was Greek. In 
 Galilee, where He was brought up, there were so 
 many Greek settlers that it was called *' Galilee 
 of the Gentiles ; " and Greek was the language of 
 
r48 IMAGO CHRIS TI. 
 
 commerce and of the more cosmopolitan kind 
 of social intercourse. A boy brought up in Galilee 
 in those days would have the same chance of 
 learning Greek as in our day a boy brought up 
 in the Highlands of Scotland has of learning 
 English. Now in Greek there existed in Christ's 
 time a version of the Old Testament Scriptures. 
 We still possess it, under the name of the Sep- 
 tuagint, or Seventy, the supposed number of the 
 translators who executed it in Egypt between two 
 and three hundred years before the Christian era. 
 It was extensively circulated in Palestine. The 
 New Testament writers very frequently quote from 
 it, and there is little doubt that our Lord read it. 
 The third language which He probably knew 
 was Hebrew. This can only be stated as a 
 probability ; for, though Hebrew was the language 
 of the Jews, it had ceased before Christ's time to 
 be the spoken language of Palestine. Languages 
 sometimes decay even in the countries to which 
 they are native, and become so mixed with 
 foreign elements as to lose their identity. A 
 modern example is seen in Italy, where Latin is 
 now a dead language, having been transmuted by 
 slow degrees in the course of centuries into Italian. 
 Though Italian bears considerable resemblance to 
 the ancient tongue, the boys of Italy of to-day 
 
CHRIST AS A STUDENT OF SCRIPTURE. 149 
 
 have to learn Latin just as our own boys do. 
 The same thing had taken place in Palestine. 
 The Hebrew language, in which the Old Testa- 
 ment was written, had degenerated into Aramaic ; 
 and Jews who desired to read the Scriptures in 
 the original tongue had to learn the dead language. 
 There is reason to believe that Jesus acquired 
 it. In some of His quotations from the Old 
 Testament, scholars have observed, He purposely 
 diverges from the Greek and reverts to the exact 
 terms of the original. It will be remembered 
 also that in the synagogue of Nazareth He was 
 asked to read the Scriptures. Now it is probable 
 that in the synagogue-roll the writing was in 
 Hebrew, the reader having first to read it in that 
 language and then to translate it into the language 
 of the people.* If this be so, it is surely interest- 
 ing to think of Jesus learning the dead language 
 in order to read the Word of God in the tongue 
 in which it was written. Remember, His condition 
 in life was only that of a mechanic ; and it may 
 Jiave been in the brief intervals of toil that He 
 mastered the strange letters and forms that were 
 
 • "Vers fiir Vers, abwechselnd mit dem dazu bestellten 
 Uebersetzer, las der Aufgerufene den Text und der Uehersetzer 
 sprach das Targum, d. h. die aramaische Paraphrase." — 
 Hausrath, Neutestameiilliche Zeitgcschichtc. 
 
ISO IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 to bring Him face to face with the Psahns as 
 David wrote them and with the prophecies as 
 they flowed from the pen of Isaiah or Jeremiah. 
 In our own country the same sacred ambition is 
 not unknown. At all events, a generation ago 
 there were working men who learned Greek with 
 the grammar stuck on the loom in front of 
 them, that they might read the New Testament 
 in the language in which it was written ; and I 
 have spoken with the members of a group of 
 business men in Edinburgh who met every Saturday 
 to read the Greek Testament. Certainly there is 
 a flavour about the Bible, when read in the 
 language it was written in, which it loses more 
 or less in every translation ; and it is perhaps 
 surprising that in our day, when the love of the 
 Bible is so common and the means of learning are 
 so accessible, the ambition to read it thus is not 
 more widely spread. 
 
 It is pathetic to think that Jesus neVer possessed 
 a Bible of His own ; but there can be no doubt of 
 the fact. The expense of such a possession in those 
 days was utterly beyond the means of one in His 
 condition ; and besides, the bulkiness of the rolls 
 on which it was written would have prevented it 
 from being portable, even if He could have possessed 
 it. Possibly in His home there may have been a 
 
CHRIST AS A STUDENT OF SCRIPTURE. 15] 
 
 few of the precious rolls, containing the Psalms 
 or other favourite portions of Holy Writ ; but it 
 must have been by freg^uetrting the synagogue and 
 obtaining access to the books lying there, perhaps 
 through ingratiating Himself with their keeper, as 
 an enthusiastic musician may do with the organist 
 of a church in order to be permitted to use the 
 instrument, that He was able to quench His 
 thirst for sacred knowledge. We can procure the 
 Holy Book for next to nothing, and every child 
 possesses a copy. May its cheapness and universal 
 currency never make it in our eyes a common 
 thing ! 
 
 Of course it was only the Old Testament Jesus 
 had to read. It may be worth while to recall this 
 as a reminder of how much more reason we have 
 to love and prize our larger Bible. When I read 
 in the Psalms such outbursts of affection for the 
 Word of God as these : " Oh how I love Thy law : 
 it is my study all the day ; " " How sweet are Thy 
 words to my taste ; yea, sweeter than honey to my 
 mouth ; " " More to be desired are they than gold, 
 yea, than much fine gold ; sweeter also than honey 
 and the honey-comb," — I say, when I read such 
 outbursts of holy feeling, and recollect that they 
 came from the lips of men who possessed only the 
 Old Testament, perhaps only a fragment of it — 
 
152 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 men in whose Bible there were no Gospels, or 
 Epistles of Paul, or Apocalypse, who had never read 
 the Sermon on the Mount or the Prodigal Son, the 
 seventeenth of John or the eighth of Romans, the 
 thirteenth of First Corinthians or the eleventh of 
 Hebrews, — I ask what my feelings are towards the 
 much larger Bible I possess, and I say to myself 
 that surely in modern times the heart of man has 
 become ossified, and the fountains of gratitude have 
 dried up, and the fires of admiration and enthusiasm 
 have been put out, so tame, in comparison, is our 
 affection for the far more perfect Book.* 
 
 * No nobler tribute has been ever paid to the Divine Word 
 than Edward Irving's Orations for the Oracles of God. We quote 
 a few sentences from the first of them : " There is no express 
 stirring up of faculties to meditate her high and heavenly strains 
 — nor formal sequestration of the mind from all other concerns 
 on purpose for her special entertainment — nor pause of solemn 
 seeking and solemn waiting for a spiritual frame, before entering 
 and listening to the voice of the Almighty's wisdom. Who feels 
 the sublime dignity there is in a saying fresh descended from the 
 porch of heaven ? Who feels the awful weight there is in the 
 least iota that hath dropped from the lips of God ? Who feels 
 the thrilling fear or trembling hope there is in words whereon 
 the eternal destinies of himself do hang? Who feels the tide of 
 gratitude swelling within his breast, for redemption and salvation, 
 instead of flat despair and everlasting retribution ? Or who, in 
 perusing the Word of God, is captivated through all his faculties, 
 transported through all his emotions, and through all his energies 
 of action wound up ? . . . 
 
 ••Oh! if books had but tongues to speak their wrongs, then. 
 
CHRIST AS A STUDENT OF SCRIPTURE. 153 
 
 II. 
 
 There is the most indubitable evidence that Jesus 
 was an assiduous student of the Word of God. 
 This is furnished, not by repeated statements to 
 this effect, but by proofs far more impressive. His 
 recorded sayings abound with quotations from it. 
 These are sometimes express references to the book 
 
 might this book well exclaim —Hear, O heavens ! and give ear, 
 
 earth ! I came from the love and embrace of God, and mute 
 nature, to whom I brought no boon, did me rightful homage. To 
 man I came, and my words were to the children of men. I dis- 
 closed to you the mysteries of the hereafter, and the secrets of the 
 throne of God. I set open to you the gates of salvation, and the 
 way of eternal life, heretofore unknown. Nothing in heaven did 
 
 1 withhold from your hope and ambition ; and upon your earthly 
 lot I poured the full horn of divine providence and consolation. 
 But ye requited me with no welcome, ye held no festivity on my 
 arrival : ye sequester me from happiness and heroism, closeting 
 me with sickness and infirmity ; ye make not of me, nor use me 
 for your guide to wisdom and prudence, but press me into your 
 list of duties, and withdraw me to a mere corner of your time ; 
 and most of ye set me at nought, and utterly disregard me. 1 
 came, the fulness of the knowledge of God : angels delighted 
 in my company, and desired to dive into my secrets. But ye, 
 mortals, place masters over me, subjecting me to the discipline 
 and dogmatism of men, and tutoring me in your schools of learn- 
 ing. I came not to be silent in your dwellings, but to speak 
 welfare to you and to your children. I came to rule, and my 
 throne to set up in the hearts of men. Mine ancient residence 
 was the bosom of God ; no residence will I have but the soul 
 of an immortal; and if you had eniertained me, I should have 
 possessed you of the peace which I had wuth God." 
 
154 IMAGO CHRIS TI. 
 
 and the verse ; but oftener they are allusions to Old 
 Testament events and personages or unexpressed 
 quotations so woven into the warp and woof of His 
 own statements as to show that the Old Testament 
 drenched His mind through and through, supplied 
 the scenery in which His imagination habitually 
 worked, and moulded the very language in which 
 He thought and spoke. 
 
 If His quotations are examined, it will be found 
 that they are derived from every part of the book, 
 showing His acquaintance not only with its promi- 
 nent features, but with its obscurest corners ; so that 
 we ourselves need not travel anywhere among the 
 Old Testament writings without the assurance that 
 His blessed feet have been there before us. It is, 
 however, peculiarly enjoyable in the reading of 
 Scripture to be able to halt at a text and know for 
 certain, from His quoting it, that out of this very 
 vessel, which we are raising to our lips, Jesus drank 
 the living water. There arc even texts which we 
 may without irreverence call His favourites, because 
 He quoted them again and again. And there are 
 books of Scripture which seem to have been specially 
 dear to Him, Deuteronomy, the Psalms, and Isaiah 
 being the chief. 
 
 Not long ago it fell to my lot to look over the 
 papers of a deceased friend. As all who have had 
 
CHRISl^ AS A STUDENT OF SCRIPTURE. 155 
 
 the same duty to perform must know, it is a pathetic 
 task. There is a haunting sense of desecration in 
 rifling the secrets kept hidden during Hfe and learn- 
 ing exactly what the man was beneath the surface. 
 My friend had been a man of the world, exposed 
 to many of the temptations of those who have to 
 do its business and mingle with its company ; but 
 he had sustained the character of a religious man. 
 I had now the means of finding out whether this 
 was something put on from the outside or growing 
 from within. It was with deep awe that, as I 
 advanced, I came upon evidence after evidence of 
 an inner life with even deeper and fresher roots than 
 I had ventured to hope for. When I opened his 
 Bible especially, it told an unmistakable story ; for 
 the marks of long and diligent use were visible on 
 exery page — the leaves well worn, the choice texts 
 underlined, short breathings of the heart noted on 
 the margins. In some parts the marks of use were 
 peculiarly frequent. This was the case especially 
 Vv'ith Psalms, Isaiah and Hosea in the Old Testa- 
 ment and the writings of St. John in the New. I 
 now knew the reality of the life that was ended, 
 and whence its virtues had sprung. 
 
 Thus the very aspect of a man's Bible may be a 
 record of his most secret habits and remain to those 
 who come after him a monument of his religion or 
 
[56 IMAGO CHRISTL 
 
 irreligion. To the living man himself there is 
 perhaps no better test of his own religious condition 
 than a glance through its pages ; for by the tokens of 
 use or neglect he may learn whether or not he loves 
 it. I copied from the flyleaf of my friend's Bible a 
 few words which perhaps explain the source of true 
 love to the Word : " Oh, to come nearer to Christ, 
 nearer to God, nearer to holiness ! Every day to 
 live more completely in Him, by Him, for and with 
 Him. There is a Christ ; shall I be Christless ? 
 A cleansing ; shall I remain foul ? A Father's love ; 
 shall I be an alien ? A heaven ; shall I be cast 
 out?" 
 
 III. 
 
 There are different methods of studying the 
 Scriptures with profit. On these we have no 
 express teaching from the lips of Christ ; but from 
 the records of His conduct we can see that He 
 practised them. 
 
 According to the method by which it is studied, 
 God's Word serves different uses in spiritual experi- 
 ence ; one method being serviceable for one kind 
 of use, and another for another. Jesus displayed 
 perfect proficiency in all the ways of using it ; and 
 from this we are able to infer how He studied it. 
 
CHRIST AS A S7UDENT OF SCRIPTURE. 157 
 
 There are especially three prominent uses to 
 which we find Him putting the Bible, and these 
 are very important for our imitation. 
 
 I. For Defence. 
 
 The very first use we find Him making of the 
 Word is as a defence against temptation. When 
 the Wicked One came to Him and tempted Him in 
 the wilderness, He answered every suggestion with, 
 " It is written.' The Word was in His hands the 
 sword of the Spirit, and He turned with its edge 
 the onsets of the enemy. 
 
 In like manner He defended Himself with it 
 against the assaults of wicked men. When they lay 
 in wait for Him and tried to entangle Him in His 
 talk. He foiled them with the Word of God. Espe- 
 cially on that great day of controversy immediately 
 before His end,*' when all His enemies set upon Him 
 and the champions of the different parties did their 
 utmost to confuse and confute Him, He repelled 
 their attacks one after another with answers drawn 
 from the Scriptures ; and at last silenced them and 
 put them to shame in the eyes of the people by 
 showing their ignorance of the Scriptures of which 
 they w^ere the chosen interpreters. 
 
 * Matt, xxii. 
 
158 IMAGO CHRISTI, 
 
 There was yet another enemy He met with the 
 same weapon. It was the last enemy. When the 
 terrors of death were closing round Him, like a dark 
 multitude pressing in upon a solitary man, He had 
 recourse to His old and tried weapon. Two at least, 
 if not more, of His seven last words from the cross 
 were verses out of His favourite book of Psalms. 
 One of them was His very last word, and with it He 
 plucked His soul out of the jaws of death : " Father, 
 into Thy hands I commend My spirit." 
 
 For this use of Scripture the practice of com- 
 mitting it to memory is essential. In every case I 
 have mentioned Jesus was able to recur to the con- 
 tents of a memory stored with texts of Scripture and 
 find at once the necessary weapon for the occasion. 
 Often, when temptation comes, there is no time to 
 search for the word to meet it ; everything depends 
 on being already armed, with sword in hand. This 
 shows how necessary it is to fill the memory, while 
 it is plastic, with stores of texts ; we do not know 
 what use we may get of them in future days of 
 trial and weakness. In daily reading, when we 
 have gone through a chapter, it is an excellent plan 
 to select a single verse and commit it to memory. 
 Not only does this sharpen the attention on the 
 whole chapter, but it lays up ammunition for future 
 battles. 
 
CHRIST AS A STUDENT OF SCRIPTURE. 159 
 
 2. For Inspiration. 
 
 It is easy from Christ's Old Testament references 
 to see that He dwelt much among the great spirits 
 of the past whose lives the Old Testament records. 
 His earthly environment was unsympathetic in the 
 extreme. In His own home He was not believed 
 in. In His own country there was living an evil 
 generation, as He often said, irresponsive to every 
 motive that most profoundly affected Him. His 
 own followers were, in mind and spirit, but children, 
 whom He was only training to comprehend His 
 ideas. His overcharged heart longed for com- 
 panionship, and He had to seek it among the great 
 figures of the past. In the silent walks and groves 
 of Scripture He met with Abraham and Moses, 
 with David and Elijah and Isaiah, and many more 
 of kindred spirit. These men had lived for aims 
 similar to His own. They had suffered for them 
 as He was suffering ; He could borrow the very 
 words of Isaiah about his contemporaries to de- 
 scribe His own. If Jerusalem was persecuting Him, 
 she had always been the city that slew the prophets. 
 So near did He get in His reading of the Word to 
 these departed spirits, so alive in His meditations 
 did they become, that at last two of them, the 
 greatest of all, Moses and Elias, were actually 
 drawn back across the boundary of visibility and 
 
l6o IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 appeared conversing with Him in the Holy Mount. 
 But this conversation was only the culmination of 
 hundreds He had held before with them and with 
 the other prophets in the pages of Holy Writ. 
 
 To enjoy this use of the Bible a different kind 
 of study of it is necessary from that which makes 
 it useful for defence. For defence the verbal 
 memory of single texts is what is necessary ; for 
 inspiration our study must take a wider sweep. It 
 must embrace the life of a man from beginning to 
 end ; it must understand the time which produced 
 him and the circumstances against which he had 
 to react. We must read about the man till we 
 see the world of his day, and him moving in it ; 
 we must learn to catch his tone and accent. Then 
 he is ours ; he will walk with us ; he will speak to 
 us ; he will be our companion and friend. This is 
 the privilege of the Christian who knows his Bible : 
 whatever be his surroundings in the actual world, 
 he can transport himself at will into the best of 
 company, where the brow of every one is crowned 
 with nobleness, every eye beams encouragement, 
 and the air is redolent of faith and hope and 
 love. 
 
 3. For Guidance. 
 
 Jesus used His Bible as the chart of His own 
 life. I-earned men, ay, and reverent men, have 
 
CHRIST AS A SI U DENT OF SCRIPTURE. i6i 
 
 discussed the question at what age He became fully 
 aware that He was the Messiah, and by what 
 degrees He became possessed of a distinct know- 
 ledge of the path which He was to pursue: at 
 what point, for example, He learned that He was 
 to be not a victorious but a suffering Saviour ; and 
 they have supposed that He came to the knowledge 
 of these things by the study of the prophecies of 
 the Old Testament about Himself. I have never 
 felt myself fit for such speculations ; these things 
 seem to me to be hidden behind the curtain of 
 the mystery of His person as God and man in one. 
 But it is easy in His words to see that He did 
 follow His own course with intense interest in Old 
 Testament prophecy, as in a chart. Again and 
 again it is said He did this and that, that such 
 and such a prophecy might be fulfilled. To the 
 deputation sent from the Baptist, and to others. He 
 pointed out how literally His way of life corre- 
 sponded with the portrait of the Messiah sketched 
 by Isaiah and other prophets. His intercourse 
 with His disciples after His resurrection seems to 
 have been mainly devoted to showing them from 
 Moses and all the prophets that His life, sufferings 
 and death were the exact fulfilment of all that had 
 been foretold. 
 
 To use Scripture thus requires a method of 
 
 1 1 
 
1 62 IMAGO CHRIS TI. 
 
 I 
 
 study far more advanced than is necessary for the 
 uses of defence or inspiration already explained : it 
 requires the power of taking a bird's-eye view of 
 Scripture as a whole, of discerning the main currents 
 flowing through it from first to last, and especially 
 of tracing clearly the great central current to which 
 all the others tend and into vi^hich they finally 
 empty themselves. 
 
 Evidently this was Christ's way of studying the 
 Bible : He could lift it up and wield it as a whole. 
 One sees this even in His mode of using single texts. 
 He rarely quotes a text without revealing in it some 
 hidden meaning which no one had suspected before, 
 but which shines clearly to all eyes as soon as it has 
 been pointed out.* Some rare men in all ages have 
 had this power. You occasionally hear a preacher 
 
 * " Lord, this morning I read a chapter in the Bible, and therein 
 observed a memorable passage, whereof I never took notice 
 before. Why now, and no sooner, did I see it? Formerly my 
 eyes were as open, and the letters as legible. Is there not a thin 
 veil laid over Thy Word, which is more rarefied by reading, and 
 at last wholly worn away ? . . . I see the oil of Thy word will 
 never leave increasing whilst any bring an empty barrel. The 
 Old Testament will still be a New Testament to him who comes 
 with a fresh desire of information. . . . How fruitful are the seeming 
 barren places of Scripture. Bad ploughmen, which make balks 
 of such ground. Wheresoever the surface of God's Word doth 
 not laugh and sing with corn, there the heart thereof within 
 is merry with mines, affording, where not plain matter, hidden 
 mysteries." — Fuller, Good Thoughts in Bad Times. 
 
CHRIST AS A STUDENT OF SCRIPTURE. 163 
 
 who can quote a text so that it becomes transfigured 
 and shines in his argument like a gem. What gives 
 this power ? It comes when the mind can go down 
 and down through the text till it reaches the great 
 lake of light that lies beneath all the texts, and 
 a jet from that fiery sea comes up and burns on the 
 surface. 
 
 We are too easily satisfied with enjoying isolated 
 texts. The shock and stimulus which a single text 
 can give is very valuable, but a whole book of 
 Scripture can give a far more powerful shock, if we 
 read it from beginning to end and try to grasp its 
 message as a whole. From this we may advance 
 to groups of books. Sometimes we might take a 
 single subject and go through the whole Bible to find 
 out what is taught on it. And why should we not 
 at last make the attempt to grasp all that the Bible 
 has to teach, for faith on the one hand and for 
 conduct on the other? 
 
 The best guide to the fulness of Scripture is to 
 search it, as Jesus did, as the chart of our own life. 
 In a different way, indeed, from that in which He 
 found His life prefigured there, yet in a perfectly 
 legitimate way, we shall find the exact form and 
 image of our own. In precept and promise and 
 example we yhall see every deed we have to do, 
 every resolution we have to form, every turn in life 
 
1 64 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 we have to take, laid down ; and, if we act as it is 
 written, we shall be able to follow up what we do 
 by saying, as He so often did, " This has been done 
 that the Scripture might be fulfilled." 
 
 Such a course earnestly followed will, however, 
 bring us still nearer to His method of studying 
 the Scriptures ; for it will inevitably land us in the 
 great central current which runs through the whole 
 of Scripture from first to last. What is this } It is 
 nothing but Christ Himself. The whole stream and 
 drift of the Old Testament moves straight to the 
 cross of Christ. The whole New Testament is 
 nothing but the portrait of Christ. Let a man seek 
 the true course of his own life in the Word, and 
 inevitably it will land him at the cross, to seek mercy 
 as a perishing sinner in the Saviour's wounds ; and 
 let him, starting afresh from this point of departure, 
 seek his true course still farther, and inevitably what 
 he will see will be, rising upon him in the distance, 
 astonishing and enchaining him, but drawing him 
 ever on, the image of perfection in the man Christ 
 J esus. 
 
IX. 
 CHRIST AS A WORKER 
 
Matt. iv. 24. 
 
 .; viii. 16, 17. 
 
 ,. ix. 35. 
 
 „ xi. I, 4. 5. 
 
 ,, xii. 15. 
 
 ,, xiii. 2 
 
 » xiv. 13, 14, 35, 36, 
 
 „ XV. 30. 
 
 „ xix. I, 2 
 
 Mark ii. 2. 
 „ iii. 20. 
 ') vi. 31. 54-56. 
 
 » xu!. 34. 
 ., xiv 8 
 
 Luke vi. 19. 
 „ X. 2. 
 „ xii. I. 
 
 John ii, 4. 
 
 r» iv. 32-34. 
 
 „ vii. 6, 8. 
 
 „ ix. 4. 
 
 „ xii. 23. 
 
 ., xvii. 4. 
 
 „ xix. 30. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 CHRIST AS A WORKER. 
 
 T^HERE are two ideals as to work — the one to 
 ^ do as little, and the other to do as much, as 
 possible. The former may be called the Oriental, 
 the latter the Occidental, ideal. The child of the 
 East, living in a warm climate, where movement or 
 exertion soon tires, counts idleness the height of 
 enjoyment, and passes his time, if he can, in a lazy 
 dream. His very clothing is an index of his tastes 
 — the capacious garment, the loose slipper. The 
 son of the West, on the contrary, is apt to be a 
 stirring being ; he likes the excitement of endeavour 
 and the exultation of achievement. His clothing is 
 the least elegant in the world, but it has one virtue 
 which in his eyes is a sufficient compensation : it is 
 suitable for movement and work His very pastimes 
 are strenuous: whilst the Oriental after work stretches 
 himself on a divan, the Briton spends his leisure in 
 football or hunting. 
 
 Even in the West, indeed, there are great differ- 
 ences in the tastes of individuals. People of lethargic 
 
1 68 IMAGO CHRISTl. 
 
 temperament are slow to work and prone to laziness, 
 whilst those of the choleric temperament sometimes 
 carry the enthusiasm for exertion to such extremes 
 that they do not feel right unless they are in a kind 
 of tempest of occupation. Among certain classes 
 the goal of ambition is to be in a position to be able, 
 if you choose, to do nothing ; this is called being a 
 gentleman. But the shrevv^der heads perceive that 
 the pleasures of such a position, when it is won, 
 seldom come up to the expectations of its possessor, 
 unless, when released from a bread-winning calling, 
 he voluntarily devotes himself to some of those in- 
 valuable services to the community or the Church 
 which the leisured can best discharge, and on which 
 the welfare of modern society so much depends. 
 
 Such are the differences which prevail amongst 
 men when choosing only according to taste or 
 temperament; but on this subject, as elsewhere, our 
 Lord has set before us, in His teaching and example, 
 the will of God. 
 
 I. 
 
 In its bearing on this question there is endless 
 significance in the fact that Jesus was born in 
 the cottage of a working man and spent the 
 greater part of His life doing the work of a 
 village carpenter. It is impossible to believe that 
 
CHRIST AS A WORKER. 169 
 
 this happened by chance ; for the minutest cir- 
 cumstances of the Hfe of Christ must have been 
 ordered by God. The Jews expected the Messiah 
 to be a prince ; but God decreed that He should 
 be born a working man. And so Jesus built the 
 cottages of the villagers of Nazareth, constructed 
 the waggon of the farmer, and mended perhaps 
 the plaything of the child. 
 
 This sheds immortal honour upon work. The 
 Greeks and the Romans despised manual labour, 
 accounting it only fit for slaves ; and this pagan 
 notion easily slips back into the minds of men. 
 But the example of the Son of man will always 
 protect the dignity of honest labour ; and the 
 heart of the artisan will sing at his work as he 
 remembers that Jesus of Nazareth stood at the 
 bench and handled the tools of the carpenter. 
 
 The virtue of work is manifold. It stamps the 
 brute earth and the raw materials taken out of 
 it with the signature of mind,* which is the image 
 and superscription of Him who is the Supreme 
 Reason. It is a contribution to the happiness of 
 
 * Compare Schleiermacher's definition of Ethics, as " the 
 collective operation of active human reason upon nature," and 
 of the aim of moral effort as "the perfect inter-penetration ol 
 reason and nature, a permeation of nature by reason." — Wuttke, 
 Christian Ethics, vol. i., p. 48 (translation). 
 
I70 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 the race, and it brings the individual into co-opera- 
 tion with all his fellow-creatures in the common 
 task of taking possession of their habitation. It 
 reacts too on the worker. It is a daily school ol 
 patience, sympathy and honesty. The man who 
 scamps his work degrades himself. 
 
 Our age has learnt these truths well, because 
 they have been expounded to it by several of its 
 favourite and wisest teachers ; and there is no 
 healthier element in the literature of our century 
 than this Gospel of Labour, as it is called. It 
 has taught many a man to do his work thoroughly, 
 not merely because he is paid for it, but because 
 he delights in it for its own sake and respects 
 himself too much to pass off for work what he 
 knows to be sham.* 
 
 * " ' Who draws a line and satisfies his soul, 
 
 Making it crooked where it should be straight ? 
 
 An idiot with an oyster-shell may draw 
 
 His lines along the sand, all wavering, 
 
 Fixing no point or pathway to a point ; 
 
 An idiot one remove may choose his line, 
 
 Straggle and be content ; but, God be praised, 
 
 Antonio Stradivari has an eye 
 
 That winces at false work and loves the true, 
 
 With hand and arm that play upon the tool 
 
 As willingly as any singing bird 
 
 Sets him to sing his morning* roundelay, 
 
 Because he likes to sing and likes the song. 
 
CHRIST AS A WORKER. 171 
 
 n. 
 
 Although the commonest work well done is 
 nonourable, every kind of work is not of equal 
 honour. There are some callings in which a man 
 can contribute far more directly and amply than 
 in others to the welfare of his fellow-creatures, 
 and these stand highest in the scale of honour. 
 
 It was on this principle that Jesus acted when 
 He quitted the bench of the carpenter to devote 
 Himself to preaching and healing. Than these 
 
 Then Naldo : ' Tis a petty kind of fame 
 At best, that comes of making violins ; 
 And saves no masses, either. Thou wilt go 
 To purgatory none the less.' 
 
 But he : 
 ' 'Twere purgatory here to make them ill ; 
 And for my fame — when any master holds, 
 'Tvvixt chin and hand a violin of mine, 
 He will be glad that Stradivari lived, 
 Made violins, and made them of the best. 
 The masters only know whose work is good : 
 They will choose mine ; and, while God gives them ski I 
 I give them instruments to play upon, 
 God choosing me to help Him.' 
 
 ' What ! were God 
 At fault for violins, thou absent ? ' 
 
 ' Yes ; 
 He were at fault for Stradivari's work.'" 
 
 George Eliot, Stradivarhis. 
 
172 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 two there are no callings more honourable, the one 
 ministering directly to the soul and the other to 
 the body. By adopting them, however, Jesus 
 stamped a fresh dignity on the work both of the 
 preacher and of the physician; and, ever since, many 
 in both professions have gone about their duties 
 with intenser ardour and enjoyment because they 
 have been conscious of walking in His footsteps. 
 
 But, though His work had changed, He was 
 not less a worker than He had been before. It 
 is a common theme of discussion between manual 
 and professional labourers whether the toil of the 
 hand or that of the brain is the more severe. 
 The artisan thinks that his well-clothed neighbour, 
 who does not need to touch rough materials or 
 lift heavy loads, has an easy time of it ; whilst 
 the professional man, harassed with anxiety and 
 responsibility, sighs for the regular hours, the well- 
 learnt task and the freedom from care of the 
 working man. This is a controversy which will 
 never be decided. But it is certain, in the case 
 of Jesus at least, that it was when He entered 
 on His new career that the real hard work of 
 His life began. His three years of work as 
 preacher and healer were years of unexampled 
 toil. Wherever He went multitudes followed Plim; 
 when He went into any new region, they sent 
 
CHRIST AS A WORKER. 173 
 
 into all the country round about and brought 
 unto Him all that were diseased in mind or 
 body ; the crowds about Him sometimes swelled 
 to such dimensions that the people trode one 
 upon another ; and sometimes He had not time 
 even to eat. Such was the pressure and conges- 
 tion of work with which He was beset. It is 
 the kind of life which many have to live in this 
 busy age ; but we can look to Jesus and see in 
 what spirit to carry the burden. 
 
 III. 
 
 In Christ's teaching there are many sayings on the 
 responsibility of devoting our time and strength to 
 the work of the world. We are servants, to every 
 one of whom the Divine Taskmaster has given his 
 own work ; and, when He returns, He will rigidly 
 require an account of whether or not it has been 
 done. 
 
 The most solemn utterance of this kind is the 
 great parable of the talents. The master, going 
 into a far country, leaves each of his servants with 
 a certain amount of money, one with more, another 
 with less ; it is to be well employed in his absence ; 
 and, when he comes back, he looks to receive not 
 only the principal, but the additional money it has 
 gained. Those who have made use of their trust 
 
174 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 diligently enter into the joy of their lord ; but the 
 servant who has done nothing with his talent is cast 
 into outer darkness. It is a parable of truly awful 
 solemnity. It evidently means that at the last 
 judgment God will expect us to produce work done 
 equivalent to the talents and opportunities He has 
 conferred upon us ; and merely to have done nothing 
 with them, as the man with one talent did, will be 
 enough to condemn us. It is not necessary to waste 
 our time and squander our strength, money and other 
 gifts on bad objects : merely to have failed to expend 
 them on the work of life will incur the extreme 
 penalty of the law.* 
 
 This is an exceedingly severe view of life ; but it 
 is the view by which Jesus lived Himself. He did 
 not preach what He did not practise. He was 
 doubtless conscious of possessing vast powers and 
 of being capable of exerting an influence which 
 
 * " And who art thou that braggest of thy life of Idleness ; 
 complacently shovvest thy bright gilt equipages ; sumptuous 
 cushions ; appliances for folding of the hands to mere sleep ? 
 Looking up, looking down, around, behind or before, discernest 
 thou, if it be not in IMayfair alone, any idle hero, saint, god, or 
 even devil ? Not a vestige of one. In the Heavens, in the 
 Earth, in the Waters under the Earth, is none like unto thee. 
 Thou art an original figure in this Creation ; a denizen in Mayfair 
 alone, in this extraordinary Century or Half-Century alone I One 
 monster there is in the world : the idle man. What is his 
 ' Religion ' ? That Nature is a Phantom, where cunning beggary 
 
CHRIST AS A WORKER. 175 
 
 would produce enormous changes both on indivi- 
 duals and in history. But the time allowed Him 
 for putting this influence forth and impressing 
 it on the world was very brief. He knew this, 
 and He always acted like one who has a great 
 work to do and little time to do it. Every hour 
 of His time seemed to be apportioned to its own 
 part of the task, for, when asked to do anything 
 sooner than He intended, He would say, " Mine 
 hour is not yet come." Everything with Him had 
 its own hour. This made Him bold in the face of 
 danger, for He knew that He was immortal till His 
 work was done. As He said, there are twelve hours 
 in the day of a human life, and, till these are spent, 
 a man walks in safety beneath the shield of Provi- 
 dence. The edge of earnestness on His spirit grew 
 keener as time went on ; the purpose of life burned 
 
 or thievery may sometimes find good victual. That God is a lie ; 
 and that Man and his life are a lie. — Alas, alas, who of us is 
 there that can say, I have worked ? The faithfullest of us are 
 unprofitable servants ; the faithfullest of us know that best. The 
 faithfullest of us may say, with sad and true old Samuel, * Much 
 of my life has been trifled away!' But he that has, and except 
 'on public occasions' professes to have, no function but that o: 
 going idle in a graceful or graceless manner, and of begetting 
 sons to go idle; ... on what iron spikes is he rushing?" — 
 Carlyle, Past and Present. 
 
 On this subject the professional philosophers are no less 
 severe. See Dorner, Christliche Sittenlehrc, p. 460. 
 
[76 IMAGO CHRIST J. 
 
 more within Him, and He v/as straitened till it 
 should be accomplished. On His last journey to 
 Jerusalem, as He went before His disciples in the 
 way, "they were amazed, and, as they followed, they 
 were afraid." " I must work the work of Him that 
 sent Me," He would say, " while it is day ; the night 
 Cometh, when no man can work." 
 
 IV. 
 
 There is intense joy in work when it is done and 
 well done. The humblest mechanic feels this plea- 
 sure, when he sees the article he has been making 
 passing out of his hands perfect. The poet surely 
 feels it when he writes Finis at the end of the 
 work into which he has poured the full force of his 
 genius. What must it have been to William Wilber- 
 force to hear on his deathbed that the cause to which 
 he had devoted the toil of a lifetime had triumphed, 
 and to know that, when he died, there would not be 
 a single slave breathing in any of the dependencies 
 of Britain ! 
 
 Jesus drank deeply of this well q{ pleasure. The 
 work He was doing was done perfectly at every 
 stage ; and it was work of the most beneficent and 
 enduring kind. As He saw part after part of it 
 falling accomplished behind Him, as He saw hour 
 after hour receding into the past filled with its 
 
CHR/ST AS A WORKER. IT] 
 
 God-appointed work, He whispered to Himself, " My 
 meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to 
 finish His work." And in the article of death, as 
 He saw the last fold of the grand design unrolled, 
 He passed out of the world with the cry on His lips, 
 " It is finished ! " He uttered this cry as a soldier 
 might do on the battlefield, who perceives, with the 
 last effort of consciousness, that the struggle in which 
 he has sacrificed his life has been a splendid victory. 
 But the triumph and the reward of His work never 
 come to an end ; for still, as the results of what He 
 did unfold themselves age after age, as His words 
 sink deeper into the minds of men, as His influence 
 changes the face of the world, and as heaven fills 
 with those whom He has redeemed, "He shall see 
 of the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied." 
 
 V. 
 
 Rest is as necessary a part of life as work. Even 
 for work's sake it is necessary ; for it restores the 
 worker to himself, putting him in possession of all 
 his powers and enabling him to do his best. 
 
 Jesus knew how to rest as well as how to work. 
 Though there was constant haste in His life, there 
 was no hurry ; though there was much pressure, there 
 was no confusion. Nothing was more consp'cuous 
 
 12 
 
178 IMAGO CHRISTL 
 
 in Him than His unvarying dignity, calmness and 
 self-possession. 
 
 He never did anything unprepared. As He never 
 did anything before the time, so He never did any- 
 thing after it. One-half of the worry and confusion 
 of life arises from doing things at the wrong time, 
 the mind being either weakened by borrowing to-day 
 the trouble of to-morrow or exhausted by having on 
 hand not only to-day's work but that which ought 
 to have been done yesterday. God never wants us 
 to do more in a day than we have time for ; and the 
 day will be found to have room enough for its own 
 work if it is not encumbered with the work of the 
 day past or the care of the day to come,* 
 
 Jesus was ready for every duty because He came 
 up with it strengthened by the perfect discharge 
 of the duty preceding it. His work in the car- 
 penter's shop was a preparation for the work of 
 preaching. It acquainted Him with human nature 
 and human life, initiating Him especially into 
 the joys and sorrows of the poor, to whom it was 
 afterwards His boast to preach. Many a preacher 
 misses the mark because, though he knows books, 
 
 * " ^sthetically we may say that want of time is want of 
 genius ; for genius accomplishes in a very short time, and in right 
 time, what others cannot accomplish in an unlimited time. But 
 ethically expressed, it is this : want of time is want of moiaj 
 energy and wisdom." — Martensen, General EiJiics, p. 426. 
 
CHRIST AS A WORKER. 179 
 
 he does not know men. But Jesus " knew what 
 was in man, and needed not that any should teach 
 Him." He did not quit this school of experience 
 till He was thirty years of age. Eager as He 
 must have been for the work which lay before Him, 
 He did not rush into it prematurely, but waited 
 hidden in the country, till mind and body were 
 mature and everything fully ripe ; and then He 
 came forth travelling in the greatness of His 
 strength and did His work swiftly, surely, perfectly. 
 But in the midst of His work also He took means 
 to preserve His independence and peace of mind. 
 When the multitude pressing on Him grew too 
 large and stayed too long, He withdrew Himseli 
 into the wilderness. Neither the desire to go on 
 preaching nor even the appeals of the sick and 
 dying could detain Him when He felt He needed 
 to preserve His own calmness and self-possession. 
 After days of too crowded work He would disap- 
 pear, to refresh His body by casting it on the breast 
 of nature and His soul by casting it on the bosom 
 of God. When He saw His disciples becoming- 
 exhausted or excited, He would say, " Come ye 
 yourselves apart into a desert place and rest a 
 while." For even in the holiest work it is possible 
 to lose oneself One may resign oneself so com- 
 pletely to the appeals and needs of men as to have 
 
i8o IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 no leisure for communion with God. The enthu- 
 siastic minister, consumed with zeal and willing to 
 please everybody, neglects his study and allows his 
 mind to become starved ; and the result is inevitable. 
 He becomes stale, flat and unprofitable ; and those 
 whose importunities have induced him to sacrifice 
 his true self are the first to turn round and complain 
 that he has disappointed them 
 
 For the great mass of the world's workers the 
 principal opportunity of rest is the Sabbath.* Jesus 
 threw His shield over this institution, maintaining 
 that it was made for man, and therefore none had 
 
 * *' The importance to a statesman of refusing to be hurried 
 was recognised by Talleyrand. He had drawn up a confession 
 of faith, which was to be sent to the Pope on the day of his 
 death. On the day before he died he was supposed to be at the 
 point of death, and he was asked whether the paper should be 
 sent off. His reply was addressed to the Duchesse de Dino, who 
 repeated it to the first Lord Ashburton, from whom I heard it : 
 ^ Atteiides jiisqiid donain. Tottte ?na vie je me s ids fait une 
 regie de 7ie jamais me presser, et fai toujour s ete a te7iips' 
 
 "With a view to promote thorough calmness, ordeiliness, — and 
 with higher views also, though these have respect to the man 
 rather than exclusively to the statesman, — it were to be wished 
 that he should set apart from business, not only a sabbatical day 
 in each week, but, if it be possible, a sabbatical hour in each 
 day. I do not here refer to his devotional exercises exclusively, 
 but to the advantage he may derive from quitting the current of 
 bu^ thoughts, and cutting out for himself in each day a sort of 
 cell for reading or meditation — a space resembling one of those 
 bights or incurvations in \\^ ronrse of a rapid stream ('called by 
 
CHRIST AS A WORKER. i8i 
 
 the light to take it from him. In His day those who 
 tried to take it away were the Pharisees, who con- 
 verted it from a day of sacred deHght into a day set 
 with thorns to wound the conscience. This danger 
 is not yet past ; but in our day the attack comes 
 more from the other side — from the Sadducees 
 rather than the Pharisees. The movements against 
 the Sabbath originate at present almost entirely 
 with the idle rich, who naturally, after spending six 
 days in a round of pleasure and dissipation, have 
 no taste for a day of quietness, when they might 
 have to look within and face themselves. If they 
 obeyed the first part of the fourth commandment, 
 
 the Spaniards resting-places), where the waters seem to tarry and 
 repose themselves for a while. This, if it were only by exer- 
 cising the statesman's powers of self-government — of intention 
 and remission in business, of putting the mind on and taking it 
 off — would be a practice well paid ; for it is to these powers that 
 he must owe his exemption from the dangers to mind, body, and 
 business of continued nervous excitement. But to a statesman 
 of a high order of intellect such intermissions of labour will yield 
 a further profit ; they will tend to preserve in him some remains 
 of such philosophic or meditative faculties as may be crumbling 
 under the shocks and pressures of public life. One who shall 
 have been deeply imbued in his early years with the love oi 
 meditative studies, will find that in any such hour of tranquillity 
 which he shall allow himself, the recollection of them will spring 
 up in his mind with a light and spiritual emanation, in like 
 manner (to resume the similitude) as a bubble of air springs 
 from the bottom of the stayed waters."' — Sir Henry Taylor, 
 The Statesman, pp. 275, 276. 
 
iS2 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 ■' Six days shalt thou labour," they would have more 
 comprehensicn of the second. They generally pro- 
 fess, indeed, to be acting in the interest of the poor ; 
 but they take the name of the poor in vain, for the 
 poor know better. They know that, wherever the 
 sacredness of the Sabbath is overridden, the poor 
 man has seven days to toil instead of six. Wherever 
 the continental Sunday prevails, the noise of mill 
 and foundry is heard on Sabbath as well as Satur- 
 day ; and, should the working classes of this country 
 ever yield to a movement for secularising the Lord's 
 Day, they will find it true that, whilst they that 
 honour God are honoured, those who despise Him 
 shall be lightly esteemed. 
 
 It is, however, a problem always requiring fresh 
 consideration, as the conditions of life change, how 
 to observe the Sabbath. The day of rest is not 
 rightly spent unless it is a delight to man as well as 
 holiness to the Lord. But surely the best security 
 for reaping all the fruits it v/as intended to yield is 
 to spend it in the spirit and the company of Him 
 after whom it is called the Lord's Day. 
 
X. 
 
 CHRIST AS A SUFFERER 
 
Matt. ii. 13-18. 
 
 „ iv. I. 
 
 „ viii. 16 17, 
 
 ,, ix. 3. 
 
 „ xi. 19. 
 
 ,, xii. 24. 
 
 „ xiii. 54-58. 
 
 „ xvi. 21. 
 
 ,, xvii, 22. 23. 
 
 „ XX. 17-19. 
 
 ,, xxvi. 
 
 ,, xxvii. 
 
 Mark iii. 21, 22. 
 
 ,, viii. 17-21. 
 
 „ ix. 19. 
 
 ,, xiv. 50. 
 
 Luke iv. 28, 29. 
 „ vi. 7. 
 M xi. 53. 54. 
 „ xvi. 14. 
 
 John vi. 66. 
 
 vii. 7, 12; 19.20: 32,^5; 
 
 ix. 16, 22, 29. 
 
 X. 20. 
 
 xii. 10, II, 27. 
 
 XV. 18. 
 
 xvii. 14. 
 
 xviii, 22. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 CHRIST AS A SUFFERER. 
 
 I. 
 
 "ITT'ORK is but one half of life; suffering is 
 ^ ' the other. There is a hemisphere of the 
 world in the sunshine of work, but there is another 
 in the shadow of suffering. 
 
 Not, indeed, that in any life these states alternate 
 with anything like the same regularity with which 
 the earth rolls out of darkness into light, and back 
 again from light into darkness. Nothing is more 
 mysterious than the proportions in which the two 
 elements are distributed in different lots. Some 
 enjoy the exhilaration of successful exertion nearly 
 all their days, and know little or nothing of illness, 
 bereavement or defeat. Others appear to be marked 
 out by suffering for its own. All through life they 
 are " acquainted with grief ; " they are scarcely ever 
 out of mourning, because ever and anon death is 
 knocking at their door to claim their dearest ; their 
 
1 86 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 own health is precarious ; and, whatever dreams of 
 high and sustained achievement may visit them, 
 they know, as soon as the excitement subsides, that 
 they have not physical strength to carry out their 
 vision. 
 
 If you are a child of fortune, scarcely ever 
 knowing a day's ill health and delighting in your 
 work, whose results you see day by day waxing 
 greater and more imposing behind you, go and 
 stand by the bedside of an invalid laid down with 
 incurable disease. There you may recognise a mind 
 more capable than your own, a heart as fit as yours 
 for love and enjoyment ; but an invisible chain is 
 wound round the limbs and holds them fast ; and, 
 though the martyrdom may last for ten or twenty 
 years, that figure will never rise with its own strength 
 from where it lies. What does your philosophy 
 make of such a sight } Yet it is only an extreme 
 instance of what is occurring in a thousand forms. 
 The children of sorrow are numerous, and nc 
 man knows how soon his own life of work may be 
 changed into a life of suffering. Any moment a 
 bolt may break from the blue and alter everything. 
 A cloud no bigger than a man's hand may wax arid 
 spread till it drapes the sky in blackness from horizon 
 to horizon. And, even if no such awful calamity 
 come, time brings to all their own share of suffering. 
 
CHRIST AS A SUFFERER. 187 
 
 There is no flock, however watched and tended, 
 
 But one dead lamb is there ; 
 There is no household, howsoe'er defended, 
 
 But has one vacant chair. 
 
 Suffering, then, is not an element of life that can 
 be ignored. If we need one to show us how to 
 work, not less do we need one to teach us how to 
 suffer. And here, again, the Son of man does not 
 fail us. Whilst He is the great Captain of work, 
 calling out the young and the energetic to dare 
 and to achieve. He is also the sufferer's Friend, 
 round whom are gathered the weak, the disappointed 
 and the agonized. When on the cross He cried, 
 " It is finished," He was referring not only to the 
 work of His life successfully accomplished, but also 
 to the cup of suffering drunk out to the last drop. 
 
 II. 
 
 I. Jesus suffered from what may be called the 
 ordinary privations of humanity. He was born in a 
 stable and laid in a manger, thus at the very outset 
 of His career stepping into the dark hemisphere of 
 suffering. We know little of the social condition in 
 which He was brought up : we cannot tell whether 
 or not in Mary's home He dwelt much in the shadow 
 of want and misfortune. But at a later stage, we 
 know from Himself, " foxes had holes and the birds 
 
1 88 IMAGO CHRIS TI. 
 
 of the air had nests, but the Son of man had not 
 where to lay His head." It is not often that one of 
 the children of men is reduced so low as thus to have 
 to envy the beast its lair and the bird its nest. As 
 a rule the end of human life, when the habitation 
 in which the soul has tabernacled is broken up, is 
 attended with more or less of suH'ering ; but the 
 physical suffering which He endured at the last was 
 extreme. We need only recall the bloody sweat of 
 Gethsemane ; the scourging, when His body, bent 
 over a short post, was beaten with all the force of 
 cruel soldiers ; the thrusting of the crown of thorns 
 on His head ; the complicated tortures of crucifixion* 
 We may not be able to assert that none ever suf- 
 fered so much physical agony as He, but this is at 
 least probable ; for the exquisiteness of His physical 
 organism in all likelihood made Him much more 
 sensitive than others to pain. 
 
 2. He suffered keenly from the pain of antici- 
 pating coining evil. When great sorrow or pain 
 comes on suddenly, there is sometimes a kind of 
 bewilderment in it which acts as an anodyne, and it 
 may be over before the sufferer thoroughly realises it. 
 But to know that one is in the grasp of a disease 
 which in, say, six months will develop into intoler- 
 able agony before carrying one away, fills the mind 
 with a horror of anticipation which is worse than 
 
CHRIST AS A SUFFERE.^. 189 
 
 even the reality when it comes. Jesus foreknew His 
 sufferings and foretold them to His disciples ; and 
 these communications grew more and more vivid and 
 minute month by month, as if they were taking ever 
 stronger hold of His imagination. This horror of 
 anticipation culminated in Gethsemane ; for it was 
 the dread of what was coming which there produced 
 in His mind such a tumult of amazement and agony 
 that the sweat fell like great blood-drops from His 
 face. 
 
 3. He suffered from the sense of being the cause 
 of suffering to others. To persons of an unselfish 
 disposition the keenest pang inflicted by their own 
 weakness or misfortunes may sometimes be to see 
 those whom they would like to make happy rendered 
 miserable through connection with themselves. To 
 the child Jesus how gruesome must have been the 
 story of the babes of Bethlehem, whom the sword of 
 Herod smote when it was seeking for Him ! Or, if 
 His mother spared Him this recital, He must at least 
 have learned how she and Joseph had to flee with 
 Him to Egypt to escape the jealousy of Herod. 
 As His life drew near its close, this sense that con- 
 nection with Himself might be fatal to His friends 
 forced itself more and more upon His notice. 
 When He was arrested, He tried to protect 
 the Twelve from His own fate, pleading with His 
 
190 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 captors, " Let these go their way." But He foresaw 
 too clearly that the world w^hich hated Him would 
 hate them also, and, as He said, that the time would 
 come when whosoever killed them w^ould think that 
 he was doing God service. He had to see the sword 
 piercing the heart of His mother when she gazed up 
 at Him dying a death more shameful in that age 
 than death on the gallows is in ours. 
 
 4. The element of shame was all through a large 
 ingredient in His cup of suffering. To a sensitive 
 mind there is nothing more intolerable ; it is far 
 harder to bear than bodily pain. But it assailed 
 Jesus in nearly every form, pursuing Him all 
 through His life. He was railed at for the 
 humbleness of His birth. The high-born priests 
 and the educated rabbis sneered at the carpenter's 
 son who had never learned, and the wealthy Phari- 
 sees derided Him. He was again and again called 
 a madman. Evidently this was what Pilate took 
 Him for ; and, when He appeared before Herod, 
 the gay monarch and his men of war " set Him 
 at nought." The Roman soldiers adopted an atti- 
 tude of savage banter towards Him all through 
 His trial and crucifixion, treating Him as boys tor- 
 ment one who is weak in the mind. They spat in 
 His face ; they blindfolded Him, and then, smiting 
 Him, asked, " Prophesy who struck thee ! " They 
 
CHRIST AS A SUFFERER. 191 
 
 made Him a mock-king, with the cast-off coat of a 
 soldier for a mantle, a reed for a sceptre, and the 
 thorns for a crown. Under such indignities had His 
 godlike mind to burn. He heard Barabbas preferred 
 to Himself by the voice of His fellow-countrymen, 
 and He was crucified between thieves, as if He were 
 the worst of the worst. A hail of mockery kept falling 
 on Him in His dying hours. The passers-by made 
 faces of derision at Him, adding with their lips the 
 vilest insults ; and even the thieves who were cruci- 
 fied with Him cast contempt in His teeth. Thus 
 had He who was conscious of irresistible strength to 
 submit to be treated as the weakest of weaklings, 
 and He who was the Wisdom of the Highest to 
 submit to be used as if He were less than a man. 
 
 5. But to Jesus it was more painful still, being 
 the Holy One of God, to be regarded and treated 
 as the chief of sinners. To one who loves God 
 and goodness there can be nothing so odious as to 
 be suspected of hypocrisy and to know that he is 
 believed to be perpetrating crimes at the opposite 
 extreme from his public profession. Yet this was 
 what Jesus was accused of. He was believed to be 
 in collusion with the powers of evil and to cast out 
 devils by Beelzebub, the prince of the devils. He 
 to \^hGm the name of God was as ointrrient poured 
 forth was called a blasphemer and a Sabbath- 
 
[92 IMAGO CflRISTF. 
 
 breaker. His very best acts were misconstrued ; 
 and for going to seek the lost where alone th(?y 
 could be found He had to submit to be called a 
 glutton and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and 
 sinners. In claiming to be the Messiah He was 
 thought by the majority of all classes to be an 
 unscrupulous pretender ; the authorities, both eccle- 
 siastical and secular, decided so in solemn court. 
 Even His own disciples at last forsook Him ; one 
 of them betrayed Him ; and the foremost of them 
 all cursed and swore that he did not know Him. 
 Possibly there was not a single human being, when 
 He died, who believed that He was what He claimed 
 to be. 
 
 6. If to the holy soul of Jesus it was painful to 
 be believed to be guilty of sins which He had not 
 committed, it must have been still more painful to 
 feel tljat He was being thrust into sin itself. This 
 attempt was often made.* Satan tried it in the 
 
 * ** Common usage, I cannot but think, has fallen into a serious 
 error in speaking of the temptation in the wilderness. Men 
 speak, if they do not think, as if this temptation stood alone in 
 the life of Christ. Nothing can be a greater mistake. Our 
 Lord's whole life was one continued temptation. We have but 
 to read the memoirs, which the Holy Ghost has caused to be 
 written for our learning, in order to recognise in almost every- 
 page how the Lord Jesus Christ was exposed to ceaseless 
 teujptations. He was subjected to trials of temper, trials of 
 
CHRIST AS A SUFtERER. 193 
 
 wilderness, and, although only this one temptation 
 of his is detailed, he no doubt often returned to 
 the attack. Wicked men tried it : they resorted to 
 every device to cause Him to lose His temper and 
 speak unadvisedly with His lips : " They began to 
 urge Him vehemently, and to provoke Him to speak 
 of many things, laying wait for Him and seeking to 
 catch something out of His mouth." Even friends, 
 who did not understand the plan of His life, endea- 
 voured to divert Him from the course prescribed to 
 Him by the will of God — so much so that He had 
 once to turn on one of them, as if he were tempta- 
 tion personified, with ** Get thee behind Me, Satan." 
 Nothing could prove more clearly than such a saying, 
 so unlike Him who uttered it, how keenly He felt 
 the point of temptation, and what horror awoke in 
 
 character, trials of principle ; He was harassed by temptations 
 caused by nervous irritability, or want of strength, or physical 
 weakness, or bodily weariness ; unfair opposition was constantly 
 urging Him to give way to undue anger and unrestrained passion ; 
 or rejection and desertion would, had it been possible, have 
 betrayed Him into moodiness or cynical despair. The machina- 
 tions of His foes, the fickleness of the mob, even the foolishness 
 of His disciples, were scarcely ever wanting to try His spirit, and 
 would often goad Him beyond endurance. All the continually 
 recurring trials, which are ever betraying man into faults he has 
 bitterly to deplore, and into sins of which he has to repent in 
 sorrow, were present in the life of the iLord Jesus Christ." — 
 BtR^■ARD, The Mental Characic7'istics of the Lordjestis Christ. 
 
 13 
 
[94 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 Him at* the danger of transgressing by a hairsbreadth 
 the will of God. 
 
 7. While the proximity of sin awoke such loathing 
 in His holy soul, and the touch of it was to Him 
 like the touch of fire on delicate flesh, He was 
 brought into the closest contact with it, and hence 
 arose His deepest suffering. It pressed its loath- 
 some presence on Him from a hundred quarters. He 
 who could not bear to look on it saw it in its worst 
 forms close to His very eyes. His own presence 
 in the world brought it out ; for goodness stirs up 
 the evil lying at the bottom of wicked hearts. The 
 sacredness of the Person with whom they had to do 
 intensified the virulence of Pharisees and Sadducees, 
 and the crimes of Pilate and Judas. What a sea of 
 all the evil passions in human nature He was gazing 
 over when, as He hung on the cross. His eye fell on 
 the upturned faces of the multitude ! 
 
 It was as if all the sin of the race were rushing 
 upon Him, and Jesus felt as if it were all His own. 
 In a large family of evildoers, where the father and 
 mother are drunkards, the sons jail-birds and the 
 daughters steeped in shame, there may be one, a 
 daughter, pure, sensible, sensitive, living in the home 
 of sin like a lily among thorns. And she makes all 
 the sin of the family her own. The others do not 
 mind it ; the shame of their sin is nothing to them ; 
 
CHRIST AS A SUFFERER. 195 
 
 it is the talk of the town, but they do not care. 
 Only in her heart their crimes and disgrace meet 
 hke a sheaf of spears, piercing and mangling. The 
 one innocent member of the family bears the guilt 
 of all the rest. Even their cruelty to herself she 
 hides, as if all the shame of it were her own. Such 
 a position did Christ hold in the human family. 
 He entered it voluntarily, becoming bone of our 
 bone and flesh of our flesh ; He identified Himself 
 with it ; He was the sensitive centre of the whole. 
 He gathered into His heart the shame and guilt 
 of all the sin He saw. The perpetrators did not 
 feel it, but He felt it. It crushed Him ; it broke 
 His heart ; and He died under the weight of the sin 
 of others, which He had made His own. 
 
 Thus we try to bring home to our thoughts the 
 mystery of Gethsemane and the awful cry of Gol- 
 gotha, " My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken 
 Me ? " Eut it is still a mystery. Who can draw 
 near to that figure prostrate beneath the olive trees 
 in the garden, or listen to that voice sounding from 
 the cross, without feeling that there is a sorrow 
 there whose depths we cannot fathom } We draw 
 as near as we may, but something calls to us, 
 " Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further." Only 
 we know that it was sin which was crushing Him. 
 " He was made sin for us, who knew no sin, that 
 
196 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 we might be made the righteousness of God in 
 Him."^ 
 
 III. 
 
 The Results of the sufferings of Christ are the 
 principal theme of the Gospel ; but only a few words 
 on the subject can be said here. 
 
 I. The Epistle to the Hebrews says that " the 
 Author of our salvation was made perfect through 
 suffering ; " and, again, that " He learned obedience 
 through the things which He suffered." 
 
 These are mysterious statements. Was He im- 
 perfect that He needed to be made perfect, or 
 disobedient that He required to learn obedience } 
 They cannot surely mean that the smallest iota was 
 ever wanting to complete His character in either 
 sense. No, but simply because He was a man, with 
 a human history and a human development. He had 
 to ascend a stair, so to speak, of obedience and per- 
 fection, and, although every step was surmounted at 
 its own precise time, and He emerged upon it perfect, 
 yet every new step required a new effort and, when 
 surmounted, brought Him to a higher stage of per- 
 
 * George Herbert's Sacrifice^ with its piercing refrain, " Was 
 ever grief like Mine ?" is too long to quote. It gives a detailed 
 and most moving enumeration of the sources of the Saviour's 
 sufferings. 
 
CHRIST AS A SUFFERER. 197 
 
 fection and into a wider circle of obedience.* We 
 see the progress of this effort with great clearness 
 in Gethsemane, where in the first access of suffering 
 He says, " Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass 
 from Me;" but at the last is able to say in deep 
 tranquillity, " O My Father, if this cup may not pass 
 away from Me except I drink it, Thy will be done." 
 This was the perfection He attained through 
 suffering. It was complete comprehension of the will 
 of God and absolute harmony with it. This is our 
 perfection too ; and suffering is the great means 
 of bringing it about. Many of us would never 
 have thought much of God's will unless we had 
 first felt it as a violent contradiction of our own. 
 We wondered at it, and rebelled against it ; but, 
 when we learned, after Jesus, to say, " Not my will, 
 but Thine, be done," we found that this is the secret 
 of life, and the peace which passeth all understanding 
 
 * " His divine nature was not unto Him in the place of a soul, 
 nor did immediately operate the things which He performed, as 
 some of old vainly imagined; but, being a perfect man, His 
 rational soul was in Him the immediate principle of all His 
 moral operations, even as ours are in us. Now, in the improve- 
 ment and exercise of these faculties and powers of His soul, He 
 had and made a progress after the manner of other men ; for 
 He was made like unto us 'in all things,' yet without sin. In 
 their increase, enlargement, and exercise there was required a 
 progression in grace also ; and this He had continually by the 
 Holy Ghost (Luke ii. 40)." — Owen, On the Holy Sfirit, 
 
198 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 came into our souls. Or at least we have seen 
 the process in others. I daresay to some of us the 
 most priceless of all memories is that of ore of the 
 sons or daughters of affliction made beautiful by sub- 
 mission to the will of God. There had perhaps been 
 a struggle once; but it was over; and God's will was 
 accepted, not only with submission, but with a holy 
 joy which glorified the whole being. And, as we 
 have watched the pure and patient face on the 
 pillow, we have felt that here was one who by sur- 
 render had won the victory, and we have confessed 
 that our own life, with all its storm and stress of 
 activity, might be far less valuable to either God 
 or man than this one lying bound and motionless : 
 They also serve who only stand and wait. 
 
 2. St. Paul, in one of the most confidential pas- 
 sages of his writings, tells of a lesson which he 
 learned from suffering. " Blessed be God," he says, 
 " the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who 
 comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be 
 able to comfort them which are in any trouble by 
 the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of 
 God." * He was glad that he had suffered, because 
 he had learned thereb}^ how to deal with sufferers. 
 How like his big heart was the sentiment ! And it 
 
 * 2 Cor. i. 3, 4. 
 
CHRIST AS A SUFFERER. 199 
 
 IS profoundly true. Suffering gives the power to 
 comfort. Indeed, there is no other way of acquiring 
 the art. To one in deep trouble there is all the 
 difference in the world between the words of the 
 heart-whole, who have never themselves been in 
 the fire, and the tender grasp and sympathetic tones 
 of those who have personally suffered. Those, there- 
 fore, who are in the furnace of bereavement or 
 pain may take to themselves the inspiring sug- 
 gestion. Perhaps this is my apprenticeship to the 
 sacred office of the comforter. Jesus thus acquired 
 the art; and the tried and tempted of every gene- 
 ration come to Him with a confidence which is born 
 of the knowledge of how He personally explored all 
 the recesses of this kind of experience. " We have 
 not an high priest which cannot be touched with 
 the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points 
 tempted like as we are, yet without sin." 
 
 3. The results of the sufferings of Christ enter 
 still more deeply into His work as the Saviour. He 
 foresaw them Himself and spoke often about them. 
 " Except a corn of wheat," He said, " fall into the 
 ground and die, it abideth alone ; but, if it die, it 
 bringeth forth much fruit ; " " I, if I be lifted up 
 from the earth, will draw all men unto Me ; " " As 
 Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even 
 so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whoso- 
 
IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 ever believeth on Him should not perish, but have 
 eternal life." . 
 
 When He died, His cause seemed to be lost. 
 Not a single adherent was left clinging to it. But, 
 when this eclipse was over and He came forth from 
 the grave, His adherents awoke to discover that they 
 possessed in Him a hundred times more than they 
 had before been aware of; and the new glory in 
 which He shone was that of the suffering Saviour. 
 
 In every age His sufferings attract to Him the 
 hearts of men ; for they prove the boundless extent 
 of His love, His absolute unselfishness, and His 
 loyalty to truth and principle even unto death. 
 Thus they have power with men. 
 
 But they have also power with God. ** He is the 
 propitiation for our sins ; and not for ours only, but 
 also for the sins of the whole world." Because He 
 died we need not die. God has put into His hands 
 the forgiveness of sins to be bestowed as a free gift 
 on all who receive Him. Because He humbled 
 Himself God hath highly exalted Him. He is 
 seated now at the right hand of power, a Prince and 
 a Saviour, and He carries at His girdle the keys of 
 hell and cf death. 
 
XI. 
 
 CHRIST AS A PHILANTHROPIST 
 
Matt. iv. 23, 24. Mark vi. 54-56. 
 
 viii. 16, 17. „ X. 21. 
 
 i-^- 35- 36. 
 X. I. 8. 
 xi. 4, 5. 
 
 xiv. 13. 14 ; 36. Luke x. 12-17. 
 
 XV. 30-32. 
 xix. 21. 
 xxi. 14. 
 XXV. 34-40. 
 xxvi. 8-II. • John xiii. 29. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 CHRIST AS A PHILANTHROPIST. 
 
 PHILANTHROPIST may be thought too light 
 ^ a name to apply to Christ. And it must be 
 confessed that it has a secular sound. 
 
 Some words are unfortunate : in common usage 
 they are degraded, and their original meaning is 
 lost. The word " charity " is a well-known instance. 
 Originally meaning " love," it had at one time a 
 good chance of being the technical term for the very 
 highest kind of love — that passion which is kindled 
 by union with Christ. This is its meaning in the 
 thirteenth of First Corinthians, and the authority of 
 so great a chapter might have been expected to 
 determine for ever the usage of Christendom. But 
 somehow the word missed this honour and suffered 
 degradation ; and now " charity " is another name 
 for "alms." In like manner, "philanthropy" has 
 been brought down by usage to denote work done 
 on behalf of men's bodies and temporal condition, 
 as distinguished from work done for their spiritual 
 
204 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 good. But originally it was not so restricted, but 
 meant simply love to men. 
 
 In this wide sense it is ascribed in Scripture to 
 God Himself. Thus, in a well-known passage in the 
 Epistle to Titus, the literal rendering is, " But 
 after that the kindness and philanthropy* of God 
 our Saviour appeared, not by works of righteous- 
 ness which we have done, but according to His 
 mercy He saved us, by the washing of regeneration 
 and renewing of the Holy Ghost, which He shed on us 
 abundantly through Jesus Christ our Saviour." Here, 
 it will be perceived, philanthropy denotes, not God's 
 kindness to the bodies of men, but His grace to their 
 souls ; for it displayed itself in bestowing the washing 
 of regeneration and the renewing of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 It was in the same way that the philanthropy of 
 Christ also primarily manifested itself. His work 
 and sufferings being gone through with a view in 
 the first place to the salvation of men's souls, while 
 the relief of their bodily wants and ailments came in 
 only in the second place. Nor is it easy to under- 
 stand why work done for the soul's sake should not 
 be called philanthropy as much as work for the 
 body's. From the Christian standpoint at least it is a 
 far greater kindness ; and none can deny that it often 
 
 * A.V., "love of God our Saviour towards man." 
 
CHRIST AS A PHILANTHROPIST. 205 
 
 involves far-reaching temporal advantages. In both 
 foreign and home missions the success of the Gospel, 
 when it saves men's souls, generally includes, as a 
 secondary but inevitable accompaniment, the sweeping 
 away of masses of cruelty, poverty and ignorance. 
 
 If, indeed, the improvement of men's temporal 
 condition be dignified with the name of philanthropy, 
 and sharply dissociated from spiritual aims, the 
 name of Philanthropist must be denied to Jesus. 
 He unfolded the utmost consideration for the 
 physical necessities of men, but always in sub- 
 ordination to the higher wants of the soul. His 
 love extended to the whole man — body and soul 
 together. His love to God and His love to man 
 were not two passions, but one. He loved man 
 because He saw God in him — God's handiwork, 
 God's image, the object of God's love. 
 
 This must ever be the pulse of a powerful philan- 
 thropy — to see God in man ; or, as Christians more 
 naturally phrase it, to see Christ in man. " Inas- 
 much as ye did it unto the least of these ye did it 
 unto Me," are Christ's own words. When I touch 
 the body of a man, I am touching what was made 
 to be a temple of the Holy Ghost. In the humblest 
 — ay, in the most sinful — human being we see one 
 whom God loves, whom the Saviour died for, and 
 who m.ay be an heir of the glory of Christ. These 
 
2o6 IMAGO CHRIST!, 
 
 are the deep wells of conviction out of which a 
 strong philanihropy is nourished. 
 
 II. 
 
 It cannot be said that an active philanthropy has 
 always been a characteristic of those professing god- 
 liness. Jesus Himself gave a significant hint of this 
 in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. The priest 
 and the Levite passed the poor maltreated way- 
 farer by, whereas the milk of human kindness was 
 found in the common, unordained man. History 
 supplies too many instances to confirm the parable. 
 Often has the untrained heart of humanity noted and 
 branded a wrong, and the uncovenanted hand sprung 
 forth to the relief of misery, when those expressly 
 called by their offices to the service have remained 
 silent and supine. It would even seem sometimes 
 as if intense sympathy with God destroyed sym- 
 pathy with man. But one of the greatest services 
 of Jesus to the world was to harmonize religion 
 and morality. He would not allow neglect of man 
 to be covered by zeal for God, but ever taught that 
 he only loves God who loves his brother also. 
 
 At present we see these things, which He joined, 
 put asunder from the other side. One of the 
 novelties of our own age is an atheistic philan- 
 thropy. There are those who do not believe in 
 
CHRIST AS A FHILAATHROPIST, 207 
 
 God or the God-man, or in the spiritual and eternal 
 world, but yet make a life of sacrifice for others the 
 sum of morality. They confess that it was Jesus 
 who brought their ideal into the world, and that it 
 was established in the convictions of mankind by 
 His authority ; but now, they maintain, it is able 
 to dispense with His support, and they call on us 
 to love man, not for Christ's sake, but for his own. 
 They profess to see in man himself, apart from God, 
 enough to inspire hourly and life-long effort on his 
 behalf; and in the very brevity of his existence, 
 which comes completely to an end at death, they 
 find a pathetic motive for instant activity, because 
 he must be helped now or never. 
 
 In so far as any may be induced by such motives 
 to embrace the life of self-denial and really grapple 
 with the problems of poverty and crime. Christians 
 need not hesitate to wish them God-speed. This is 
 a wide world, affording room for experiments ; and 
 it is a world of such fearful misery that there is 
 little need to forbid anyone who from any motive 
 may feel inclined to lend it a helping hand. We 
 may even recognise some to be for Christ who believe 
 themselves to be against Him. But, where the oppo- 
 sition is radical and final, we are hardly justified either 
 by reason or the facts of the case in expecting very 
 much from such a movement. 
 
2o8 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 No doubt there is in the natural heart a love of 
 man for man, which, if blown up by a favourable 
 wind, may now and then do wonders ; and the kind- 
 ness of those who make no profession of religion 
 sometimes puts Christians to shame. But, on the 
 other hand, the force which the philanthropic spirit 
 has to overcome is one of the mightiest in nature. 
 It is the force of selfishness — that universally dif- 
 fused instinct which makes the individual seek 
 his own interest and happiness whatever comes of 
 others, which makes the strong domineer over the 
 weak and the many tyrannize over the few. This 
 force lodges in every human breast ; it pervades 
 communities as well as individuals ; it is embodied 
 in customs and laws ; it evolves new forms of wrong 
 in every age ; and many would say that it rules the 
 world. This is the force which philanthropy has 
 to overcome. It is not easily dislodged. It will 
 not be conquered by fine words. There is needed, 
 to overcome it, a change which only God can work 
 by communicating to us His own nature, which is 
 love. 
 
 ' Is there a reason in nature for these hard hearts?' O Lear, 
 That a reason out of nature must turn them soft seems clear. 
 
 In the teaching of Christ man is so dignified by 
 his connection with God and by his immortal destiny, 
 that e\e]yone who really believes this creed must 
 
CHRIST AS A PHILANTHROPIST, 209 
 
 feel himself condemned if he treats his brother ill. 
 But strip man, as Agnosticism does, of all the great- 
 ness and mystery with which Christianity invests him 
 — cease to believe that he comes from God, that 
 he is akin to beings greater than himself who care 
 for him, and that his soul is of infinite worth because 
 it has before it an unending development — and how 
 long will it be possible to cherish for him the 
 reverence which wins him consideration and help ? 
 The brevity of man's existence gives him, according 
 to the present teaching of Agnosticism, a pathetic 
 claim to instant help ; but who knows whether in 
 a society given over to unbelief the argument might 
 not tell the other way, the selfish heart reasoning 
 that sufferings which must end so soon do not 
 matter ? 
 
 It was in the generation preceding the French 
 Revolution that atheistic philanthropy took its rise. 
 The prophets of the time were predicting an age of 
 peace and brotherhood, when selfish passion should 
 disappear and cruelty and wrong no more vex the 
 world. But, when their teaching had done its work, 
 its fruit appeared in the Revolution itself, whose 
 unspeakable inhumanities afforded our race such 
 glances into the dark depths of its own nature as 
 can never be forgotten. It is painful to recall that 
 Rousseau himself, the most eloquent and, in some 
 
210 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 respects, the noblest apostle of the new faith, while 
 preaching universal brotherhood, sent his own chil- 
 dren one by one, as they were born, to the Foundling 
 Hospital, to save himself the trouble and expense 
 of their support. The Revolution did much 
 destructive work for which the hour had come ; 
 but it was a gigantic proof that the love necessary 
 for the work of reconstruction must be sought in 
 a superhuman source.* 
 
 We are living at present in a state of society in 
 which there is an after-glow of Christian sentiment 
 even in minds that have ceased to name the name 
 of Christ, which develops beautiful manifestations ; 
 but those who know human nature will demand very 
 strictly where Agnosticism is to get the light and 
 
 * " The practical paradox, that the age in which the claims of 
 humanity were most strongly asserted is also the age in which 
 human nature was reduced to its lowest terms, — that the age 
 of tolerance, philanthropy, and enlightenment was also the 
 age of materialism, individualism, and scepticism, — is explicable 
 only if we remember that both equally spring out of the negative 
 form taken by the first assertion of human freedom. 
 
 "As the individual thus fell back upon himself, throwing off all 
 relations to that which seemed to be external, the specific religious 
 and social ideas of earlier days lost power over him ; and their 
 place was taken by the abstract idea of God and the abstract idea 
 of the equality and fraternity of men, — ideas which seemed to be 
 higher and nobler because they were more general, but which 
 for that very reason were emptied of all definite meaning, as 
 well as of all vital power to hold in check the lusts and greeds 
 
CHRIST AS A PHILANTHROPIST. 
 
 the glow which will keep back the on-rushing force 
 of dark and selfish passion, when Christianity is 
 removed. There is a remnant of Christianity in 
 many who think they have got quit of it ; but it 
 remains to be seen how long this will last when 
 cut off from its source. A sheet of ice holding 
 on to the edges of a pool may maintain its 
 position even after the water on whose surface it 
 has been formed has been drawn off; but it will 
 not maintain it long, and it will not bear much 
 weight. The facts with which philanthropy has 
 to deal are excessively disagreeable to face, and 
 the temptations to spare oneself and enjoy the 
 world are insistent.. Not long ago, when the bitter 
 cry of outcast London grew so piercing as to attract 
 
 of man's lower nature. Thus the ambitious but vague procla- 
 mation of the rehgion of nature and the rights of man was closely 
 associated with a theory which was reducing man to a mere 
 animal individual, a mere subject of sensations and appetites, 
 incapable either of religion or of morality. For an ethics which is 
 more than a word, and a religion which is more than an aspiration, 
 imply dejinite relations of men to each other and to God, and all 
 such relations were now rejected as inconsistent with the freedom 
 of the individual. The French Revolution was the practical 
 demonstration that the mere general idea of religion is not a 
 religion, and that the mere general idea of a social unity is not 
 a state ; but that such abstractions, inspiring as they may be as 
 weapons of attack upon the old system, leave nothing behind 
 to build up the new one, except the unchained passions of the 
 natural man." — E. Caird, HegcI. pp. 19, 20. 
 
212 IMAGO CHRIS 1 1, 
 
 universal attention, tlie heart of the West End was 
 stirred, and the sons and daughters of fashion left 
 their frivolities to go " slumming," as it was called, in 
 the East End. But already, I am told, this is nearly 
 all over ; and the work of relieving the wretched 
 is left, for the most part, to the humble followers 
 of Christ, who were at it before. If strict inquiry 
 were made, I imagine it would be found that there 
 are very few philanthropic institutions of any dimen- 
 sions in our midst that would not go down if they 
 were deprived of the support of those who give 
 not only for the sake of man, but for the sake of 
 the Saviour who has redeemed them. 
 
 III. 
 
 The actual forms in which the philanthropy of 
 Christ manifested itself were mainly two. 
 
 One of these was the giving of alms to the poor. 
 This was, it is evident, a constant habit of His — 
 so much so, that when, on the night of the betrayal, 
 He said to Judas, who had the bag, "That thou 
 doest do quickly," the rest of the disciples thought 
 that the message the betrayer had received was to 
 visit and relieve with a gift of money someone 
 in distress. How the bag was filled we do not 
 know very well. Jesus may have put into it 
 savings of His own which He had laid by, when 
 
CHRIST AS A PHILANTHROPIST. 
 
 213 
 
 working as a carpenter, in view of the life He had 
 in prospect. The Twelve may have done the same ; 
 and the holy women who followed Him contributed 
 to it. But there is no reason to think that it was 
 ever very full, but the contrary. When Jesus gave 
 alms, it was the poor giving to the poor ; yet He 
 kept up the practice to the • very end. 
 
 There have been good men who have seen so 
 much peril \\\ this form of philanthropy that they 
 have pronounced against it altogether ; but the 
 example of Jesus supports it. There can be no 
 doubt, however, that it requires caution and con- 
 sideration. To give to the professional beggar 
 generally does more harm than good, and too facile 
 yielding to his importunities is to be accounted a 
 vice rather than a virtue. But there are deserving 
 poor. They are known to those whose work lies 
 among them ; and the wealthy might with advantage 
 make these workers their almoners. But it is not 
 difficult to find them out, if we are willing to go 
 on our own feet into the abodes of poverty. To 
 many, indeed, this is an unexplored world, though 
 it is at their doors. But it is not difficult to discover. 
 Once enter it with a loving heart, and progress is 
 
 * Compare Dorner, Christliche Sitte^ilehre^ p. 469: "There 
 is something holy in poverty. The poor are the altar of th^ 
 Church. But there is no holiness in beggary." 
 
214 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 easy. You will find in it honest men, on whom 
 illness or temporary want of work has fallen, and 
 whom a gift may help honourably over the time of 
 need. You will find the aged, who have fought 
 the battle manfully, but now can fight no more ; 
 and surely it is an honour to have a few of these 
 dependent on our bounty. Among the poorest 
 there are princes of God, who at a future stage of 
 existence may be in a position to patronise us.* 
 
 The other form of His philanthropy was healing. 
 Because He healed by miracle we naturally think of 
 it as easily done ; but perhaps it was more an effort 
 than we suppose. On one occasion, when a woman 
 touched Him and was healed, without wishing Him 
 to know. He did know, because, it is said. He 
 perceived that virtue had gone out of Him. And 
 there are other indications that these cures must have 
 cost Him an expenditure of nervous sympathy and 
 
 * " Those are ripe for charity who are withered by age or 
 impotency, — especially if maimed in following their calling ; 
 for such are industry's martyrs, at least her confessors. Add to 
 these those that with diligence fight against poverty, thougli 
 neither conquer till death make it a drawn battle. Expect not, 
 but prevent, their craving of thee ; for God forbid the heavens 
 should never rain till the earth first opens her mouth, seeing 
 some grounds will sooner burn than chap ! 
 
 "The House of Correction is the fittest hospital for those 
 cripples whose legs are lame through their own laziness." — 
 Fuller, The Holy and PrOj 'ane State, 
 
CHRIST AS A PHILANTHROPIST, 215 
 
 emotion which imparts a deep pathos to the saying 
 of St. Matthew, " Himself took our infirmities and 
 bare our sicknesses." But, in any case, the work 
 of heaUng was a congenial one in which His loving 
 nature rejoiced ; and He was never more at home 
 than in a crowd composed of persons suffering from 
 every kind of disease and infirmity of body and 
 mind, amongst whom He moved benignly, touching 
 one here into health, speaking to another the word 
 of power, and letting glances of kindness and good 
 cheer fall on all. The joy radiated far and wide, 
 when the father returned to his home to be no longer 
 its burden but its bread-winner, the son to be no 
 more a care but a pride, the mother to resume the 
 place and the work from which illness had dislodged 
 her. The best help to the poor and needy is that 
 which enables them to help themselves ; and this 
 was the kind of help which Jesus gave by His 
 miracles. 
 
 We of course do not possess miraculous powers ; 
 but in their place we have others, which may be put 
 to the like uses and are capable of working wonders 
 as far beyond what could be achieved in His day 
 through natural causes as His miracles are beyond us. 
 
 We possess, for instance, the power of science, 
 There is no form of philanthropy perhaps more 
 Christ-like than that which puts at the disposal of 
 
2i6 IMAGO CHRIS TI. 
 
 the poor and tl"w^ ignorant first-rate medical skill 
 Our infirmaries and dispensaries are the con- 
 tinuation of Christ's healing activity. Medical 
 missionaries carry to the heathen a commission 
 singularly like that with which Jesus sent forth the 
 apostles. The Church is beginning to employ 
 trained nurses in mission work. And in every part 
 of the country there are medical men who are daily 
 rendering to the poorest the best efforts of their 
 art, for which they receive little or no remuneration, 
 but which they give with even greater inward de- 
 light than they feel in working for their best-paying 
 patients, because they are serving Christ in His 
 members. 
 
 There is also the power of politics. Of this 
 the early Christians had no control ; they had no 
 influence whatever in the State. But this power is 
 now in the hands of all. The work of a Wilber- 
 force or a Shaftesbury shows .what use can be made 
 of it in putting an end to wrong and misery. It 
 enables us to ascend the stream and cut great evils 
 off at their sources. Christian men are only learn- 
 ing how to use it yet ; some are even shy of touch- 
 ing it, as if it were unholy. But they will yet prize 
 it as one of the most powerful instruments put by 
 Providence into their hands for doing good. We 
 shall not always be content with a philanthropy that 
 
CHRIST AS A PHILAKTHROFL-^ 217 
 
 picks up the victims as they fly broken from the 
 wheel of oppression ; we will stop the wheel itself.* 
 
 These are only specimens of the powers with 
 which Christian philanthropy is arming itself; and 
 the strange word of Christ is coming true, "Verily, 
 verily, I say unto you, he that believeth on Me, the 
 works that I do shall he do also ; and greater works 
 shall he do, because I go unto My Fatiier." 
 
 IV. 
 
 There is nothing more certain than that our Lord 
 left this part of His work as an example to His 
 followers. In the distribution of alms from the 
 common bag He associated the Twelve with Him- 
 self, giving the bag in charge to one of them. To 
 
 * "The ouligation of philanthropy is for all ages, but if we 
 consider the particular modes of philanthropy which Christ pre- 
 scribed to His followers, we shall find that they wei e suggested 
 by the special conditions of that age. The same spirit of love 
 which dictated them, working in this age upon the same pro- 
 blems, would find them utterly insufficient. No man who loves 
 his kind can in these days rest content with waiting as a servant 
 upon, human misery, when it is in so many cases possible to 
 anticipate and avert it. Prevention is better than cure, and it is 
 now clear to all that a large part of human suffering is pre- 
 ventible by improved social arrangements. Charity will now, if 
 it be genuine, fix upon this enterprise as greater, more widely 
 and permanently beneficial, and therefore more Christian than 
 the other. It will not, indeed, neglect the lower task of relieving 
 
2i8 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 one who wished to join the company of those who 
 followed Him He said, " Go and sell all that thou 
 hast and give to the poor, and thou shalt have 
 treasure in heaven, and come and follow Me ; " and 
 in other cases He may have imposed the same con- 
 dition of discipleship. He associated the Twelve 
 with Himself in like manner in the work of healing. 
 " Heal the sick," He said, as He sent them forth, 
 " cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils : 
 freely ye have received, freely give." 
 
 But the most impressive evidence of all is His 
 great description of the last judgment, where the 
 King says to those on His right hand, " Come, ye 
 blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared 
 
 and consoling those who, whether through the errors and un- 
 skilful arrangements of society or through causes not yet pre- 
 ventible, have actually fallen into calamity. . . . But when it 
 has done all which the New Testament enjoins, it will feel that 
 its task is not half fulfilled. When the sick man has been visited 
 and everything done which skill and assi^duity can do to cure 
 him, modern charity will go on to consider the causes of his 
 malady, what noxious influence besetting his life, what contempt 
 of the laws of health in his diet or habits, may have caused it, 
 and then to inquire whether others incur the same dangers and 
 may be warned in time. When the starving man has been 
 relieved, modern charity inquires whether any fault in the social 
 system deprived him of his share of nature's bounty, any unjust 
 advantage taken by the strong over the weak, any rudeness or 
 want of culture in himself wrecking his virtue and his habits of 
 thrift.'' — Ecce Homo, 
 
CHRIST AS A PHILANTHROPIST. 219 
 
 for you from the foundation of the world : for I was 
 an hungered, and ye gave Me meat ; I was thirsty, 
 and ye gave Me drink ; I was a stranger, and ye took 
 Me in ; naked, and ye clothed Me ; I was sick, and ye 
 visited Me ; I was in prison, and ye came unto Me ; " 
 but to those on His left hand, " Depart from Me, ye 
 cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil 
 and his angels : for I was an hungered, and ye gave 
 Me no meat ; I was thirsty, and ye gave Me no 
 drink ; I was a stranger, and ye took Me not in ; 
 naked, and ye clothed Me not ; sick, and in prison, 
 and ye visited Me not." 
 
 Are there many Christians who realise that this 
 is the test by which at the final review their 
 Christianity is to be tried ? Do the habits of 
 Christendom accord with our Lord's plainest teach- 
 ing ? There are, indeed, a few who follow Him 
 along this path. And, though it is a path of self- 
 denial, they find it one of flowers ; for on the way 
 to the homes of the destitute they see the marks 
 of His footsteps, and, in handling the bodies of 
 the bedridden and suffering, their fingers touch 
 His hands and His side. Thus, while losing their 
 life, they find it. But is this a practice of the 
 average Christian ? Do his feet know the way to 
 the homes of the blind, the tortured and the friend- 
 less ? There is a day coming when many of us 
 
220 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 shall wish that every penny we have given to 
 the poor had been a pound ; when those who have 
 begged from us on behalf of the suffering and the 
 ignorant, but of whose importunities we have often 
 complained, will be accounted our best benefactors ; 
 and when it will be more valuable to us to re- 
 member one hour passed in the garret of the poor 
 than a hundred spent at the tables of the rich. 
 ** Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
 least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto 
 Me." 
 
XII. 
 
 CHRIST AS A WINNER OF SOULS 
 
Matt. i. 21. 
 
 „ iv, 18-22. 
 
 „ ix. 10-13. 
 
 Luke iv. 43. 
 
 „ vii. 36-50. 
 
 ., XV. 
 
 „ xix. i-io ; 41, 42. 
 
 M xxii- 39-43- 
 
 John ii. 23. 
 
 » 
 
 111. 
 
 V 
 
 iv. 
 
 « 
 
 vii. 3i» 37- 
 
 J» 
 
 ix. 35-38. 
 
 »> 
 
 X. II. 
 
 „ 
 
 xii. 21, 22. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 CHRIST AS A WINNER OF SOULS. 
 
 I. 
 
 T HAVE heard that one of the diamond-fields 
 of South Africa was discovered on this wise. 
 A traveller one day entered the valley and drew 
 near to a settler's door, at which a boy was amusing 
 himself by throwing stones. One of the stones fell 
 at the stranger's feet, who picked it up and was in 
 the act of laughingly returning it, when something 
 flashed from it which stopped his hand and made 
 his heart beat fast. It was a diamond. The child 
 was playing with it as a common stone ; the 
 peasant's foot had spurned it ; the cart-wheel had 
 crushed it ; till the man who knew saw it and 
 recognised its value. 
 
 This story comes often to my mind when I am 
 thinking of the soul. Was it not the same careless 
 treatment the soul was receiving when Jesus arrived 
 in the world and discovered it ? A harlot's soul, 
 sunk in the mud and filth of iniquity ! why a 
 
2 34 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 Pharisee would not stain his fingers to find it. 
 A child's soul ! the scribes used to discuss in their 
 schools whether or not a child had a soul at all. 
 
 Even yet there is nothing else of less account 
 in the eyes of the majority than the soul. It is 
 flung about, it is ignored, it is crushed by the care- 
 less foot, just as the undiscovered diamond was. 
 A new soul, fresh out of eternity, enters an earthly 
 home ; but in most cases the family sin on as if 
 it were not there ; they are visited by no com- 
 punctions lest it should be corrupted by their 
 example. By-and-bye it goes out into the world 
 and is brought into contact with the multifarious 
 influences of social life ; but here there is, if possible, 
 still less sense of its value ; there is no fear of 
 misleading it, no reverence for its high origin or 
 its solemn destiny. If it remains undeveloped, or 
 if it is lost and rushes unprepared upon its doom, 
 the majority heed not ; its fate is no business of 
 theirs, and they do not even remember that it 
 exists. 
 
 Our common language betrays that to the 
 majority the soul is as undiscovered as the diamond 
 was to the settler and his children. When the 
 employes are pouring out of a factory at the meal 
 hour, we say, What a number of hands ! Hands ! 
 not souls ; as if the body and the power of work in 
 
CHRIST AS A WINAER OF SOULS, 225 
 
 it were the whole of the man. Even the Church 
 speaks of the population of the East End as the 
 masses ; as if they only counted in the bulk, and 
 were not separable into units, in each of which there 
 is that which touches heaven above and hell be- 
 neath. As we watch the multitude pouring along 
 a crowded street, what is it we see .? Only so many 
 figures interesting or uninteresting for their looks, 
 their dress and the like ; or embodied spirits, that 
 have come from God and are going to God ? 
 
 If we have the power of seeing the latter, we 
 have learned it from Christ. He lifted the soul 
 up out of the mud and from among the trampling 
 feet, and said, Behold the diamond ! " What shall 
 it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose 
 his own soul ? " 
 
 Mankind believed, indeed, in the souls of the 
 great — the soul that could distinguish itself by 
 force or wisdom — the soul of Socrates, the soul 
 of Caesar. "^ But Jesus taught it to believe in the 
 common soul — the soul of a child, of a woman, 
 nay, of a publican or a sinner. This is His 
 immortal discovery. In every child of Adam He 
 
 * " Contempt of men is a ground-feature of heathenism, 
 which goes side by side with the deification of men, and we can 
 trace this twofold extreme down to the heathenism of our own 
 days."' — Martensen, Christian EtJiics. 
 
 15 
 
226 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 perceived the diamond. The rags of the beggar 
 could not hide it from His eyes, nor the black skin 
 of the savage, nor even the crimes of the evil-doer. 
 It was true the soul was lost sunk deep in 
 ignorance and unrighteousness. But this only made 
 it the more interesting ; it only stimulated His 
 desire to rescue and cleanse it, and set it where 
 it might shine. To a physician who are interest- 
 ing } Not they that are whole, but they who are 
 sick ; and among all his patients the m :)st absorb- 
 ing case is that which most needs his help. It 
 haunts him day and night ; it runs away with 
 nine-tenths of his thinking ; he visits it thrice a 
 day ; and, if the disease is overcome, this case is 
 the triumph of his art. So Jesus taught, explaining 
 
 His own feelings and conduct. 
 
 Yet there is a mystery in this estimate of the 
 soul. Is it really true that one soul — that of 
 the thief lying to day in prison or of harlequin 
 who was grinning last night in the circus — is more 
 precious than the gold of California or the diamonds 
 of Golconda } To multitudes, if they would confess 
 the truth, such an assertion has no meaning. Yet it 
 was made by Him who, while living here below in 
 time, lived also aloft in eternity and could look 
 clearly along the track of the future, seeing all that 
 the soul can become — both the splendid possibilities 
 
CHRIST AS A '.V INNER OF SOULS. 227 
 
 it may develop and the depths to which it may 
 fall. 
 
 This unique estimate of the soul was the secret 
 spring of His work as a soul-winner ; and it is this 
 faith, kindling mind and heart, which makes the soul- 
 winner always. A man has no claim to this office 
 under any of its forms if he does not believe in the 
 soul more than in money, or physique, or success, or 
 any earthly thing, and unless the saving of a single 
 soul would be to him a greater prize than all Greek 
 and Roman fame.* 
 
 II. 
 
 There is another motive perhaps even more 
 essential. It is the sense of a divine call. The 
 
 * " There is one power which lies at the bottom of all success 
 in preaching ; its influence is essential everywhere ; without its 
 presence we cannot imagine a man as making a minister of the 
 Gospel in the largest sense. Under its.compulsion a man becomes 
 a preacher, and every sermon he preaches is more or less shaped 
 by its presence. That power is the value of the human soul felt 
 by the preacher, furnishing the motive and inspiration of all his 
 work. . . . The other motives for the minister's work seem tome 
 to stand around this great central motive as the staff-officers 
 stand about the general. They need him, they execute his will ; 
 but he is not dependent on them as they are on him. Any one of 
 them might fall away, and he could fight the battle out without 
 him. . . . Pleasure of work; delight in the exercise of power; 
 love of Gods truth ; the love of study ; gratification in feeling our 
 life touch other lives ; the perception of order ; love of regulai 
 movement; insight into the lives and ways of men; and, lastly, 
 
228 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 soul-winner must be conscious that he is doing God's 
 work, and that it is God's message he bears to men. 
 Enthusiasm for humanity is a noble passion and 
 sheds a beautiful glow over the first efforts of an 
 unselfish life. But it is hardly stern enough for the 
 uses of the world. There come hours of despair 
 when men seem hardly worth our devotion. They 
 are so base and ungrateful, and our best efforts are 
 able to change them so little, that the temptation 
 is strong to throw up the thankless task. Those for 
 whom we are sacrificing ourselves take all we can do 
 as a matter of course ; they pass us by unnoticed, or 
 turn and rend us, as if we were their enemies. Why 
 should we continue to press our gifts on those who 
 do not want them } Worse still is the sickening 
 consciousness that we have but little to give : 
 perhaps we have mistaken our vocation ; it is a 
 world out of joint, but were we born to put it right ? 
 This is where a sterner motive is needed than love 
 of men ; our retreating zeal requires to be rallied by 
 
 the pleasure of seeing right ideas replace wrong ideas— these 
 are the noble members of the staff of the great general. But how 
 the motive which they serve towers above them all ! " From a 
 noble lecture on the value of the soul, with which Dr. Phillips 
 Brooks closes his Yale Lectures oil Preacliiiig. The locus 
 classicus, however, on this subject is Baxter's Reformed Paster ^ 
 through which the thought of the danger and the preciousness of 
 the soul sounds like the bell of eternity. 
 
CHRIST AS A WIANER OF SOULS. 229 
 
 the command of God. It is His work ; these souls 
 are His ; He has committed them to our care ; and 
 at the judgment-seat He will demand an account 
 of them. 
 
 All prophets and apostles who have dealt with 
 men for God have been driven on by this impulse, 
 which has recovered them in hours of weakness and 
 enabled them to face the opposition of the world. 
 Most of them have experienced a crisis in which 
 this call has come and clearly determined their 
 life-work. It came to Moses in the wilderness 
 and drove him into public life in spite of strong 
 resistance ; and it bore him through the un- 
 paralleled trials of his subsequent career. It came 
 to Isaiah in a vision which coloured all his after 
 history ; and it revolutionised St. Paul's life in an 
 hour. Jeremiah felt the divine message like a 
 sword in his bones and like a fire which consumed 
 him till he cast it forth among the people.* 
 
 This was one of the strongest motives of Christ's 
 life also. It gave to it its irresistible momentum ; 
 it strengthened Him in the face of opposition ; it 
 rescued Him from the dark hour of despair. He 
 
 * The difficult question of what constitutes a call to the 
 ministry is discussed with great good sense in Blaikie's Fo7- the 
 Work of the Ministry, and with racy wisdom in Spurgeon's 
 Lectures to My Students. 
 
230 IMAGO CHRIS TI. 
 
 was never weary of asserting that the works He did 
 were not His own, but God's ; and that so were the 
 words He spoke. His comfort was that every step 
 He took was in fulfilment of the divine will. 
 
 But He had no hour at which His life was 
 broken in twain by a moral crisis, and the task of 
 living for others imposed on Him. This vocation 
 was inwoven with the very texture of His being ; 
 the love of men was as native to His heart as it 
 is to the nature of God ; the salvation of men was 
 the primary passion of His soul ; and, though He 
 claimed that His works and words were given Him 
 by God, yet so identified were His own deepest 
 wishes with the purposes of the divine love, that 
 He could say, " I and My Father are one." 
 
 HI. 
 
 The name of Soul-winner which I have ventured 
 to apply to the Saviour is a scriptural one ; for we 
 read in Scripture that " he that winneth souls is 
 wise." It is a word which indicates the delicacy 
 and the difficulty of the work of seeking the lost. 
 This work requires tact and skill in him who under- 
 takes it. Souls have to be zuon ; and this requires 
 a winning way — a kind of winsomeness — in those 
 who seek them. 
 
 Jesus Himself did not use this word ; but He. 
 
CHRIST AS A WINNER OF SOULS. 231 
 
 made use of one suggestive of the same truth. 
 When calling His disciples to take part with Him in 
 this work, He said to them, " Follow Me, and I will 
 make you fishers of men." Every fisher with the 
 rod knows how much knowledge of the weather and 
 the water, how much judgment, keenness of eye 
 and lightness of touch fishing requires. Probably 
 it was of net-fishing Christ was thinking ; but this 
 requires no less experience, alertness, tact and 
 perseverance. 
 
 All these qualities are needed in winning souls. 
 Jesus was the perfect model of this art ; and the 
 best guide to its acquisition is to watch His methods 
 
 I. He made use of His miracles as stepping-stones 
 to reach the soul. All the acts of kindness and mercy 
 described in the foregoing chapter were introductions 
 to the development of the higher and more spiritual 
 aims which were always in His mind. I do not say 
 that this was their only purpose; for His miracles had 
 many meanings. But it was one of them: they often 
 opened the door to spiritual dealing which could not 
 have taken place without them. For example, in 
 the ninth of St. John we read of a man whom He 
 cured of blindness, without making Himself known 
 to him. The man conceived a passion of gratitude 
 and went about praising and championing his un- 
 known friend ; till Jesus, meeting him, made Himself 
 
232 IMAGO CHRISTL 
 
 known, when the man at once exclaimed, "Lord, 1 
 believe," and worshipped Him. This is a clear case 
 in which the bodily cure was a prelude to the cure 
 of the blindness of the soul. In numberless other 
 instances it must have served the same end ; and, if 
 it be remembered that the miracles were often nearly 
 as valuable to the relatives of those who were healed 
 as to themselves, it will be understood how many 
 minds must have been conciliated by this means to a 
 favourable hearing of His divine message. 
 
 Philanthropy may serve us also as a stepping- 
 stone to higher work. Kindness opens hearts ; and 
 through the open door salvation may be introduced. 
 There lurks danger, indeed, on either hand ; for, on 
 the one hand, charity may be robbed of all true 
 human kindliness by the proselytizer's zeal, and, on 
 the other, a hypocritical pretence of piety may be 
 put on by the receiver of temporal advantages, as a 
 payment for the accepted dole. But, whilst these 
 dangers need to be avoided, the principle itself has 
 the highest authority, and in earnest Christian work 
 it is receiving at present many happy applications. 
 Zeal for the soul often awakens consideration for the 
 body also, and produces deeds which smell as sweetly 
 to the Saviour of men as did the ointment with 
 which Mary anointed Him. 
 
 2. Preaching was one of the principal means by 
 
CHRIST AS A WINNER OF SOULS. 233 
 
 which Christ sought the lost. As a separate chapter 
 occurs below on Jesus as a Preacher, the subject 
 need not here be dwelt upon. Only let it be noted 
 how attractive His preaching was — how well fitted 
 to win men. He invested the truth with every 
 charm of parable and illustration, though He well 
 knew that such gay clothing is not truth's native 
 garb. Truth is plain and simple ; and those who 
 know it love to have it so. But Jesus had to deal 
 with those to whom in itself it had no attraction ; 
 and therefore He administered it to them as they 
 were able to bear it, trusting that, if once it had 
 won them and they had learned its worth, they 
 would welcome it in any garb. 
 
 So powerful a means of winning men to God is 
 preaching still, that it is no wonder that the desire 
 to preach is often born at the same time as the 
 desire of saving souls ; but perhaps it is a wonder 
 that of those who preach so i^w exert themselves, as 
 Jesus did, to attract men by presenting their message 
 in beautiful and winsome forms. ^ 
 
 3. Of course only a small proportion of those who 
 burn to save the lost can become preachers; but with 
 
 * " Man irrt sich erstaunlich, wenn man meint, dass, was 
 gerade so klingt, wie das Volk in den Arbeitsstunden selbst 
 redet, von diesem am liebsten gehort werde. Sie haben den 
 Sonntagsrock angezogen, als sie in die Kirche gegangen sind ; 
 
234 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 His preaching Jesus combined another method, which 
 it is more open to all to imitate — the method of 
 conversation. We have illustrations of His use of 
 this method in His conversation with Nfcodemus 
 and His talk at the well with the woman of Samaria, 
 which are models, intended to serve to all time, of 
 this mode of winning souls. If the two cases be 
 compared together, it will be seen with what perfect 
 tact He adapted Himself to the circumstances of His 
 interlocutors, and how naturally, whilst meeting them 
 on their own ground. He led the conversation to the 
 point He aimed at, always descending full upon the 
 conscience. 
 
 This is a difficult art ; for religious conversation 
 must be natural — it must well up out of a heart full 
 of religion — or it is worse than useless. Yet it is of 
 priceless value, and no trouble is too great to be 
 spent in acquiring it. I am not sure but we are 
 more in need of those who can talk about religion 
 than of those who can preach about it. A sermon is 
 often applied by the hearers to one another, whilst 
 each puts its message away from himself; but con- 
 versation goes straight to its mark. If it is supported 
 
 so thut es ihnen aiich wohl, an der Predigt, die £;ie vernehmen, 
 das festliche Kleid zu gewahren." From the Preface to Tholuck's 
 Predigiciiy where wih be found some of the most remarkable 
 pages on Preaching ever written. 
 
CHRIST AS A WINNER OF SOULS. 235 
 
 by an impressive and consistent character, he who 
 can wield it carries a blessing with him wherever he 
 goes ; in homes in which he has been a visitor his 
 memory is cherished as that of one who has made 
 religion real ; and, though his name may be little 
 heard of on earth, his track through the world is 
 marked by a line of light to the eye of Heaven. 
 
 Jesus did not, however, need always to be the 
 aggressor when employing this instrument. In many 
 cases those whom He conversed with about the con- 
 cerns of the soul introduced the subject themselves. 
 Persons who were anxious about religion sought Him 
 out ; for they instinctively felt that He knew the 
 way after which they were groping. The passing ot 
 Jesus through the country was like the passing of a 
 magnet over a floor where there are pieces of iron : 
 it drew the souls which had affinity for the divine life 
 to itself And in all Christian communities there are 
 some who, in greater or less degree, discharge the same 
 function. They are known to possess the secret of 
 life ; those passing through the deepest experiences 
 of the soul are confident that they will understand 
 them ; burdened consciences seek their sympathy. 
 Surely this is the most precious privilege of the soul- 
 winner: he is never so effectively seeking the lost as 
 when the lost seek him. 
 
236 IMAGO CHRISTL 
 
 IV. 
 
 As our subject in these chapters is the imitation 
 of Christ, we naturally dwell on those aspects of His 
 life and work in which it is possible for us to imitate 
 Him. But ever and anon we need to remember at 
 what a height He is above us. It is only with dis- 
 tant and faltering steps we can follow Him at all ; 
 and in many places He passes quite beyond our 
 reach. 
 
 It is so at this point. In some respects, such 
 as those just mentioned, we can imitate Him in 
 winning souls ; but He went, in this quest, where we 
 cannot go : He came not only to seek but to save 
 the lost. He compared Himself, as a soul-winner, 
 to the shepherd going after the lost sheep and 
 bringing it home on his shoulders rejoicing ; and 
 thus far we may venture to compare our own soul- 
 winning to His ; but He carried the comparison 
 further : " The good shepherd giveth his life for the 
 sheep." He followed sinners to their earthly haunts, 
 and so may we ; but He followed them further — 
 down to the gates of hell, where He plucked the 
 prey from the hands of the mighty. He entered 
 a supernatural region, where He conquered for us, 
 made atonement for us, opened for us the gates of 
 immortality. Of these transactions we can but dimly 
 
CHRIST AS A WINNER OF SOULS. 237 
 
 know, for they were done in a region which we have 
 not seen. Only we know that they were greater — 
 more pathetic and solemn — than all our thoughts. 
 The outward sign and symbol of them which we 
 can see is Golgotha — His body broken for us, His 
 blood shed for us. And this is the highest symbol 
 of soul-winning love. 
 
 Here we rather bow down and adore than think 
 of imitation. Yet here too there are lessons which 
 all must learn who wish to be expert in this art. 
 No one will have power with men who has not 
 power with God for men ; the victory may seem 
 to be won whilst we persuade men, but it has to 
 be previously won in the pi: c^ of intercession. This 
 place was to Jesus a place of agony and death ; 
 and there is no soul-winning without pain and 
 sacrifice. St. Paul said that he filled up that which 
 was lacking in the sufferings of Christ for His 
 body's sake, which is the Church ; and all who will 
 be partakers of Christ's joy in the redemption of the 
 world must first be partakers in His sufferings. 
 
 V. 
 
 If the art of the soul-winner is difficult and 
 accompanied with much pain, its reward is corre- 
 spondingly great. I have known an eminent portrait- 
 painter, who, when the crisis of his picture came at 
 
238 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 which it was to be determined whether or not he had 
 produced a Hkeness of the features only, or a picture 
 of the soul and character of his subject, used to 
 fall into perfect paroxysms of excitement, weeping, 
 wringing his hands and grovelling on the ground ; 
 but, when it was over and the true likeness stood 
 embodied on the canvas, gave way to equally ex- 
 travagant exultation. And it must be a strange 
 sensation to see an image of beauty, out of nothing 
 so to speak, gradually developing itself on the canvas 
 and living there. But what is this compared with 
 seeing a soul emerging from death into life — its 
 wings freeing themselves from the hard, ugly chrysalis 
 of its natural condition, to flutter forth into the 
 sunshine of eternity } 
 
 Of the effect of this sight on Jesus we have an 
 authentic glimpse in the wonderful parables of the 
 fifteenth of St. Luke — the shepherd calling his 
 friends together and saying, " Rejoice with me, for 
 I have found my sheep which was lost," and the 
 father of the prodigal crying, " Let us eat and drink 
 and be merry." He has told us Himself what this 
 rejoicing means: "Verily I say unto you. There is 
 joy in the presence of the angels of God over one 
 sinner that repenteth." And that joy in the faces 
 of the angels is only a reflection of the joy of the 
 Lord of angels, on whose face they are ever gazing. 
 
CHRIST AS A WINNER OF SOULS. 239 
 
 In His earthly life we see very clearly on at least 
 one occasion this holy excitement in His heart.* 
 When He had won the wicked woman of Samaria 
 to God and holiness, His disciples, arri\ing where 
 He was with provisions which they brought from the 
 town, prayed Him, saying, " Master, eat." But He 
 could not eat ; He was too delighted and absorbed ; 
 and He answered, " I have meat to eat that ye 
 know not of." Then, looking towards the cit\', 
 whither the woman had gone to bring more souls 
 to Him to be won. He continued in the' same en- 
 raptured strain, " Say not ye. There are yet four 
 months, and then coQicth harvest ? Behold, I say 
 unto you, Lift up your e}es, and look on the fields ; 
 for they are white already to harvest." It was 
 the same deep passion in another phase, when He 
 beheld the city which He had in vain attempted to 
 win and in which so many souls were perishing, and 
 wept over it. 
 
 In these sacred emotions all soul-winners partake 
 in their degree ; and there are no higher emotions 
 in this world. They are the signature and patent 
 of a nobility derived directly from Heaven ; for the 
 humblest Christian worker, who is really pained with 
 
 * I have heard the late Brovvnlow North say that, though on 
 one side of His nature Jesus was the Man of Sorrows, on another 
 He was the happiest of all the ciuldrcn of men. 
 
240 IMAGO CHRIS TI. 
 
 the sin of men and rejoices in their salvation, is 
 feeling, in his degree, the very passion which bore 
 the Saviour of the world through His sufferings, 
 and which has throbbed from eternity in the heart 
 of God. 
 
XIII. 
 
 CHRIST AS A PREACHER 
 
 i6 
 
Matt. iv. i6 ; 23-25. 
 
 >» v.-vii. ,, V. 17. 
 
 t. ix. 4, 13 ; 35-38. „ vii. 16. 
 
 „ X. 7, 19, 20; 27. ,, viii. 1-8. 
 
 „ xi. 27, 28. 
 
 xui. 
 xvi. 14. 
 
 Mark i. 38, 39. John iii. 34. 
 
 11. 2. 
 
 „ vii. 14-16 ; 26 ; 40 ; 
 iy. 33- 45, 46. 
 
 vi. 1-6, .. viii. I. 2. 
 
CHAPTER XITL 
 
 CHRIST AS A PREACHER. 
 
 I. 
 
 T F, m the course of a lifetime, we have been 
 ^ fortunate enough to hear once or twice an 
 orator of the first rank, we talk of it all our da^'s ; 
 or, if we can remember a preacher who first made 
 religion real to us, his image is enshrined in our 
 memory in a sacred niche. What, then, must it 
 have ■ been to listen to Him who spake as never 
 man spake ? What must it have been to hear 
 the Sermon on the Mount or the Parable of the 
 Prodigal Son issuing, for the first time, fresh from 
 the lips that uttered them ? 
 
 For thirty years Jesus had kept silence. During 
 this period the waters of thought and conviction 
 had been accumulating in His mind ; and, when 
 the outlet was opened, forth they rushed in copious 
 volume. He began in Nazareth and Capernaum, 
 the places of His abode, to preach in the syna- 
 gogues on the Sabbaths. But He soon extended 
 
244 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 His activity to the neighbouring villages and towns. 
 Nor were the Sabbaths and the synagogues and the 
 customary hours of worship sufficient for His zeal ; 
 by-and-bye He was preaching every day, and not 
 only in the synagogues, but in streets and squares, 
 and in the more picturesque temple of the hillside 
 or the seashore. 
 
 The enthusiasm of those whom He addressed 
 corresponded with His own. Almost as soon as 
 He began to preach His fame spread over the 
 whole of Syria, bringing hearers from every 
 quarter ; and from this time onwards we are 
 constantly hearing that great multitudes followed 
 Him, the crowd becoming sometimes so dense 
 that they trode one upon another. They detained 
 Him when, wearied out with PI is efforts, He 
 wished to escape into solitude ; and, if at length 
 He got away for a little, they were waiting for Him 
 when He cam.e back. 
 
 All classes were to be found in His audiences. 
 Not unfrequently the preacher who can move the 
 populace is neglected by the educated, whilst he 
 who can satisfy the cultured few is caviare to the 
 general. But at the feet of Jesus you might have 
 seen Pharisees and doctors of the law sitting, who 
 were come out of every town of Galilee and Judeea 
 and Jerusalem; whilst, on the other hand, the 
 
CHRIST AS A PREACHER. 245 
 
 common people heard Him gladly ; and even the 
 class below the line of respectability — those who in 
 general cared nothing for synagogues and sermons 
 — were roused for once to frequent the public 
 religious assemblies: "Then drew near unto Him ail 
 the publicans and sinners for to hear Him/' 
 
 Wherein lay the secret of this intense and uni- 
 versal interest ? The ancients represented the orator 
 in works of art as drawing men after himself with 
 golden chains issuing from his mouth. What were 
 the chains of attraction by which Jesus drew all men 
 unto Himself? 
 
 11. 
 
 When the standard of religious life and of preach- 
 ing is conspicuously low in a country or neigh- 
 bourhood, the appearance of a man of God who 
 preaches the Word with power is made remarkable 
 by contrast ; the darkness of the background making 
 the light more visible. 
 
 ,A darkness of this kind, which may be compared 
 to that of midnight, was brooding over Galilee when 
 Jesus opened His career as a preacher ; and St. 
 Matthew, who lived on the spot, describes the con- 
 trast by quoting these words of prophecy : " The 
 people that sat in darkness saw great light ; and to 
 them who sat in the region and shadow of death 
 
246 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 light is sprung up." In the same way, the first 
 criticism passed on the new Preacher by all who 
 heard Him was a surprised expression of the 
 difference they felt between Him and their ac- 
 customed teachers : " The people were astonished at 
 His doctrine; for He tair^ht them as one having 
 authority, and not as the scribes." 
 
 The scribes were their accustomed teachers, who 
 harangued them week by week in the synagogues. 
 No doubt there must have been differences among 
 them ; they cannot all have been equally bad ; but, 
 taken as a whole, they were probably the most 
 barren and unspiritual set of men who have ever 
 held sway over the mind of a nation. In the col- 
 lection of Jewish books called the Talmud, which 
 has come down to us and is, indeed, at present in 
 process of being translated into the English lan- 
 guage, we have specimens of their teaching, and 
 those who have studied them declare that they are 
 the driest products of the human mind. To read 
 them is like travelling through endless galleries of 
 lumber, where the air is darkened and the lungs are 
 well-nigh asphyxiated with the rising dust. 
 
 The people in their criticism of Jesus exactly hit 
 the principal defect of their teachers. He, they 
 said, taught with authority, and not as the scribes ; 
 that is, the scribes taught without authority. This 
 
CHRIST AS A PREACHER. 247 
 
 is the leading characteristic of these Talmudic writ- 
 ings. No teacher speaks as if he had ever been in 
 touch with God Himself or seen the spiritual world 
 with his own eyes. Everyone quotes some earlier 
 teacher, to whose authority he appeals ; they are all 
 leaning upon one another. This is a fatal kind of 
 preaching, though it has often prevailed and some- 
 times loudly arrogated to itself the name of ortho- 
 doxy. Have you never heard God spoken of as 
 if He had existed hundreds of years ago, in Bible 
 times, but no longer moved and worked in the life 
 and history of today ? Have you never heard joy 
 in God, the happiness of forgiveness, the fulness of 
 the Spirit, and the other higher experiences of the 
 spiritual life, spoken of as if they had, indeed, been 
 experienced by the saints of the Bible, but were no 
 longer to be looked for in these modern centuries } 
 The Bible can be converted into a prison in which 
 God is confined, or a museum in which the spiritual 
 life is preserved as an antiquarian curiosity. But 
 those who came to hear Jesus felt that He was in^ 
 direct contact with the spiritual world and brought 
 to them news of what He had Himself seen and 
 felt. He was not a mere commentator, repeating 
 some faint and far-derived echo of the message re- 
 ceived from on high by men long dead. He spoke 
 like one who had just come from the abode of the 
 
248 IMAGO CHKISTI. 
 
 Highest, or rather who was still in it, seeing what 
 He was describing. He was not a scribe, but a 
 prophet, who could say, " Thus saith the Lord." 
 
 So the fame of Him travelled from Dan to 
 Beersheba ; men said to one another, with kindling 
 looks, " A great prophet is risen up among us ; " 
 and the shepherd left his sheep in the wilderness, 
 the husbandman his vineyard, and the fisher his 
 nets by the shore, to go and hear the new Preacher ; 
 for men know they need a message from the other 
 world, and they instinctively recognise the authentic 
 voice when they hear it. 
 
 HI. 
 
 Preaching sometimes acquires an extraordinary 
 influence from the personality of the preacher. 
 Those who have merely read the sermon are told 
 by those who have heard it that they have no con- 
 ception of what it was : " You should have seen the 
 man." It is well known that the posthumously 
 published discourses of some of the greatest pulpit 
 orators have entirely disappointed the world, pos- 
 terity asking in surprise where the influence can 
 have lain. It lay in the man — in the peculiarity of 
 his personality — in the majesty of his appearance, 
 or his passionate earnestness, or his moral force. 
 
 It cannot be said that the printed words of Jesus 
 
CHRIST AS A PREACHER. 249 
 
 are disappointing : on the contrary, their weightiness 
 and originality must have attracted attention how- 
 ever they had been spoken. But yet in this case, 
 also, as can easily be perceived from the criticism of 
 His hearers, the Preacher told as well as the sermon. 
 
 We do not, indeed, know how Jesus looked — \ 
 whether His appearance was attractive, His voice 
 pleasant, or the like ; the traditions about such , 
 things which have come down to us not being trust- \ 
 worthy. But we do know in some respects the 
 nature of the impressions which He made on His 
 hearers. 
 
 Though for many generations the only preachers "^ 
 whom His countrymen had heard were dry-as-dust 
 scribes, yet one of the proudest traditions of the 
 Jewish people was the memory of great speakers 
 for God whose voices had sounded through- 
 out the land in days gone by, and whose charac- 
 teristics were indelibly imprinted on the national 
 memory ; and, as soon as Jesus commenced to 
 preach, it was recognised at once that the great 
 order of the Prophets had revived in Him. They 
 said He spoke as one of the prophets. 
 
 But they went further: they actually believed 
 that one or other of the old prophets had risen 
 from the dead and resumed his work in the person 
 of Jesus. In indulging this fancy, they were divided 
 
2SO IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 between two of the ancient prophets, and the selec- 
 tion of these two clearly shows what characteristics 
 they had specially remarked in Him. The two 
 were Jeremiah and Elijah : some said He was 
 Jercn^ah, others that He was Elijah. 
 
 Now these were both great prophets ; perhaps 
 the very greatest in the popular estimation ; so that 
 it was to their very greatest that they compared 
 Him. But the two were of types so diametrically 
 opposite to one another that it may seem impossible 
 that their characteristics should have been united in 
 one personality. 
 
 Jeremiah was the soft, pathetic prophet — the m.an 
 of heart, who wished that his eyes were a fountain 
 of tears to w^eep for the misfortunes of his people. 
 It is not surprising that Christ's hearers discovered a 
 resemblance to him ; for it must have been evident 
 at the first glance that Jesus was a man of heart. 
 The very first sentences of His Sermon on the 
 Mount were words of compassion for the poor, the 
 mourners, the oppressed. The most insignificant 
 among His hearers must have felt that He took an 
 interest in him and would take any trouble to do 
 him good. Although He addressed all classes, His 
 boast was that He preached the Gospel to the poor ; 
 whilst the scribes flattered the wealthy and coveted 
 cultivated audiences, the common man knew that 
 
CHRIS7 AS A PREACHER. 
 
 Jesus considered his soul as precious as that of the 
 wealthiest of His hearers. The sight of a multitude 
 moved Him with a strange compassion. And, like 
 Jeremiah, He was such an intense lover of His 
 country and His countrymen, that even the publican 
 or harlot was dear to Him because belonging to the 
 seed of Abraham. 
 
 Elijah was in every respect a contrast to Jere- 
 miah : he was a man of rock, who could rebuke 
 kings and queens to their faces and stand alone 
 against the world. It did not seem possible that 
 one who exhibited the traits of Jeremiah should also 
 exhibit those of Elijah. Yet the people recognised 
 in Jesus an Elijah. And they were not mistaken. 
 It is an entire misapprehension to suppose that Jesus 
 was all softness and gentleness. There was a stern- 
 ness in many of His utterances not surpassed even by 
 Elijah's rebukes of Ahab, and the bold denunciation 
 of wrong was one of the most imposing elements of 
 His power. There has never been in this world a 
 polemic so uncompromising and annihilating as His 
 against the Pharisees. 
 
 The truth is, both characteristics. His softness / 
 and His sternness, had a common root. As in 
 the poorest peasant He saw and revered a man, so 
 in the wealthiest noble He saw no more than a man. 
 As the rags of Lazarus could not conceal from Him | 
 
252 
 
 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 the dignity of the soul, so the purple of Dives could 
 not blind Him to its meanness. He knew what 
 was in °man — the height and the depths, the glory 
 and the shame, the pathos and the horror ; and 
 men felt, as they faced Him, that here was One 
 whose manhood towered above their own and yet, 
 stooping down, embraced it and sympathized with 
 it through and through. 
 
 IV. 
 
 No preacher has perhaps ever made a profound 
 impression on the general mind who has not studied 
 the form in which to put what he has had to say ; 
 or perhaps the fact might be more correctly stated 
 by saying, that the true messenger from God to the 
 people instinctively clothes his message in attractive 
 and arresting words. Beginners in preaching, I 
 observe, are apt to neglect this : they think that, if 
 only they have something good to say, it does not 
 matter how they say it. As well might a house- 
 wife suppose that, if only she has som.ething good to 
 give her guests to eat, it does not matter how it is 
 cooked. 
 
 The teaching of Jesus owed its attractiveness, and 
 owes it still, in no small degree, to its exquisite form. 
 The common people do not, I think, as a rule 
 remember so well the drift of an argument or a long 
 
CHRIST AS A PREACHER. 253 
 
 discourse as remarks here and there expressed in 
 pithy, pointed, crystalline words. This is the form 
 of most of the sayings of Jesus. They are simple, 
 felicitous and easily remembered ; yet every one of 
 them is packed full of thought, and the longer you 
 brood over it the more do you see in it. It is like a 
 pool so clear and sunny that it seems quite shallow, 
 till, thrusting in your stick to touch the pebbles so 
 clearly visible at the bottom, you discover that its 
 depth far exceeds what you are trying to measure 
 it with. 
 
 But the discourses of Jesus had a still more 
 popular quality : they were plentifully adorned with 
 illustrations. This is the most attractive quality of 
 human speech. The same God being the Author 
 of both the world of mind and the world of matter. 
 He has so fashioned them that the objects of nature, 
 if presented in a certain way, become mirrors in 
 which are reflected the truths of the spirit ; and 
 we are so constituted that we never relish truth so 
 well as when it is presented in this way. Nature 
 contains thousands of these mirrors for exhibiting 
 spiritual truth which have never yet been used but 
 await the hands of the masters of speech who are 
 yet to be born. 
 
 Christ used this method of illustrating truth so 
 constantly that the common objects of the country 
 
254 IMAGO CHKISTl. 
 
 in which He resided are seen more perfectly in 
 His words than in all the historians of the time. 
 The Jewish life of Galilee in the days of Christ 
 is thus lifted up out of the surrounding darkness 
 into everlasting visibility, and, as on the screen of 
 a magic lantern, we see, in scene after scene, the 
 landscapes of the country, the domestic life of the 
 people, and the larger life of the cities in all their 
 details. In the house we see the cup and the 
 platter, the lamp and the candlestick ; we see the 
 servants grinding the meal between the millstones 
 and then hiding the leaven in it, till the whole is 
 leavened ; we see the mother of the family sewing 
 a piece of cloth on an old garm.ent and the father 
 straining the wine into the skin-bottles ; we see, at 
 the door, the hen gathering her chickens under her 
 wings and, in the streets, the children playing at 
 marriages and funerals. Out in the fields we see 
 the lilies in their stately beauty rivalling Solomon's, 
 the crows picking up the seed behind the sower, and 
 the birds in their nests among the branches ; the 
 doves and the sparrows, dogs and swine, the fig tree 
 and the bramble bush. Looking up, we see the 
 cloud carried over the landscape by the south wind, 
 the red sky of evening promising fair weather for 
 the morrow, and the lightning flashing from one 
 end of heaven to the other. We see the vineyard 
 
CHRIST AS A PREACHER. 255 
 
 with its tower and winepress ; the field adorned 
 with the tender blade of spring or sprinkled with 
 the reapers among the yellow grain of autumn ; 
 the sheep, too, yonder on their pastures, and the 
 shepherd going before them or seeking the lost one 
 far over hill and dale. Are there any figures of 
 our own streets with which we are more familiar 
 than the Pharisee and the Publican at prayer in the 
 Temple ; or the Priest and the Levite and the Good 
 Samaritan on the road to Jericho ; or the gorgeous 
 Dives at his daily banquet and Lazarus lying at his 
 gate with the dogs licking his sores ? Nor were 
 these pictures less striking to the audiences of Jesus, 
 though they were familiar ; for — 
 
 We're made so that we love 
 First, when we see them painted, things we've passed 
 Perhaps a hundred times, nor cared to see. 
 
 It was because Jesus had exquisite love and 
 consideration for His hearers that He thus sought 
 out acceptable words to win their minds. But there 
 was a reason in Himself besides. It is when the 
 mind of a preacher is acting on the truth with 
 intense energy and delight that it coruscates in 
 such gleams of illustration. When the mental 
 energy is only smouldering in a lukewarm way 
 inside the subject, then you have the commonplace, 
 prosaic statement ; when the warmth increases and 
 
256 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 pervades the whole, you get the clear, strong, 
 impressive statement ; but, when the glow has 
 thoroughly mastered the mass and flames all over 
 it, then come the gorgeous images and parables 
 which dwell for ever in the minds of the hearers. 
 
 V. 
 
 However important the form of preaching may 
 be, the supremely momentous thing is the substance 
 of it. The form is only the stamp of the coin ; bat 
 the substance is the metal. What is that — is it 
 gold or silver, or only copper ? is it genuine or 
 counterfeit t This is the all-important question. 
 
 Never has the substance of preaching been more 
 trivial than among the Jewish scribes. The Tal- 
 mudical books show this. The topics they deal 
 with are in their triviality beneath contempt. The 
 religion of the scribes was a mere round of cere- 
 monies, and their preaching was almost wholly 
 occupied with these : the proper breadth of phy- 
 lacteries, the proper length of fasts, the articles 
 on which tithe ought to be paid, the hundred and 
 one things by which one might be made ceremonially 
 unclean— these and a thousand similar minutiae 
 formed the them.es of their tiresome harangues. 
 There have been times in the history of the Church 
 since then when the pulpit has sunk almost to as 
 
CHRIST AS A PREACHER. 257 
 
 Iowa level. In our own country immediately before 
 the Reformation the sermons of the monks were, 
 if possible, even worse — more trivial and low 
 in tone — than those of the scribes in the time 
 of Christ. Similarly in Germany last century, when 
 Rationalism was at its lowest, the pulpit had 
 reached an almost incredible stage of degradation.* 
 The truth is, there is a necessity in these things. 
 When the minds of preachers grow cold, they move 
 away insensibly from the central things and drift to 
 those on the circumference ; and at length they 
 go over the circumference. 
 
 Of course the subjects which formed the sub- 
 stance of Christ's preaching cannot here be enu- 
 merated. It must suffice to say that His matter 
 was always the most solemn and vital which can be 
 presented to the human mind. He spoke of God 
 in such a way that His hearers felt as \i to their 
 eyes God was now light and in Him was no dark- 
 ness at all. As He uttered such parables as the Lost 
 Sheep and the Prodigal Son, it seemed as if the 
 gates of heaven were thrown open and they could 
 see the very beatings of the heart of the divine 
 mercy. He spoke of man so as to make every 
 
 * " Die Zeit der Kaffee- und Kuhpocken-Prcdigten " it is wittily 
 named by Tholuck, referring, I fancy, to the subjects of some 
 notorious sermons. 
 
 17 
 
258 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 hearer feel that till that moment he had never been 
 acquainted either with himself or with the human 
 race. He made every man conscious that he carried 
 in his own bosom that which was more precious 
 than worlds ; and that the passing hours of his 
 apparently trivial life were charged with issues 
 reaching high as heaven and deep as hell. When 
 He spoke of eternity, He brought life and im- 
 mortality, which men before then had only vaguely 
 guessed at, fully to light, and described the world 
 behind the veil with the graphic and familiar force 
 ■)f one to whom it was no unknown countr}^ 
 
 Is it any wonder that the crowds followed Him, 
 that they hung spellbound on His lips and could 
 never get enough of His preaching ? Intoxicated 
 as men are with the secularities of this world, they 
 know, deep down, that they belong to another, and, 
 interesting as the knowledge of this world is, the 
 questions about the other world will always be far 
 more fascinating to the spirit of man. Whence am 
 I ? What am I ? Whither am I going } Unless 
 preaching can answer these questions, we may shut 
 our churches. That voice which sounded on the 
 Galilean mountain-side, and which spoke of these 
 mysteries so familiarly, we, indeed, shall never hear, 
 till we hear it from the great white throne. But 
 the heart and the spirit that embodied themselves 
 
CHRIST AS A PREACHER. 259 
 
 in these sounds never die ; they live an.d burn to-day 
 as they did then. Whenever a preacher strikes 
 correctly a note of the eternal truth, it is Christ that 
 docs it. Whenever a preacher makes you feel that 
 there is a world of realities above and behind 
 the one you see and touch ; whenever he lays 
 hold of your mind, touches your heart, awakens 
 your aspiration, rouses your conscience — that is 
 Christ trying to grasp you, to reach you with His 
 love, to save you. " Now then we are ambassadors 
 for Christ ; as though God did beseech you by 
 us, we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled 
 to God." 
 
xiv; 
 
 CHRIST AS A TEACHER 
 
iv. 1 8, 19. M.irk iii. i . 
 
 ix. 9; 14-17. „ iv. 34. 
 
 X. „ vi. 30-32. 
 
 xii. 1-3; 49. „ ix. 35-41. 
 
 xiii. 10. II ; 16-36. ,, xvi. 7. 
 
 XV. 15. 16; 23. 24; 32 ; 36. 
 
 xvi. 5-28, Luke ix. 54-56. 
 
 xvii. „ X. I-17. 
 
 xviii. 1-3 ; 21, 22. ,, xi. I. 
 
 xix. 13-30. „ xxiv. 36-5] 
 
 XX. 17-19 ; 20-28. 
 
 xxvi. 21, 22 ; 26 36 : 56. John ii. 1 1, 22 
 
 xxviii. 7, 10, 16-20. ,, iv. 2. 
 
 ,, xiii.-xvii. 
 
HAPTER XIV. 
 
 CHRIST AS A TEACHER. 
 I. 
 
 I ^HE function of the teacher is a more limited 
 one than that of the preacher. The preacher 
 addresses the multitude ; the teacher concentrates 
 his attention on a select few. The audiences to 
 whom Jesus preached numbered thousands ; the 
 men to whom He acted as teacher numbered only 
 twelve. Yet perhaps in its results His work in the 
 latter capacity was quite equal in value to His whole 
 work as a preacher. 
 
 The teacher's office had many remarkable occu- 
 pants before Christ. In the schools of Greek 
 philosophy Socrates, Plato, Aristotle and other 
 famous masters stood in a relation to their dis- 
 ciples similar to that which Jesus sustained to 
 His. Among the Jews also this relationship was 
 not unknown. In the schools of the prophets, in 
 the Old Testament, the " men of God " were the 
 teachers of "the sons of the prophets." John the 
 
264 IMAGO CHRI:bTI, 
 
 Baptist, besides preaching to the multitude, had 
 disciples who followed him. 
 
 The standing phrase in Greek for the disciples 
 of any master is " those about him : " the disciples 
 of Socrates, for example, are " those about Socrates." 
 Similarly it is said in the Gospels that Jesus chose 
 the Twelve " that they should be with Him." This 
 circumstance alone must have limited the number 
 of those who were His disciples in the strict sense ; 
 for few could give up their work and home in order 
 to follow Him. His habits were itinerant ; and 
 this made the separation of those about Him from 
 settled occupations more absolute. It seems, indeed, 
 that some attached themselves to Him temporarily 
 and intermittently ; for we hear on one occasion of 
 as many as a hundred and twenty disciples, and 
 on another of seventy ; but those whom He chose 
 out to give up all and be with Him continually were 
 only twelve. 
 
 There was, however, another reason for the strict 
 limitation of their number. A teacher has to know 
 his disciples individually and study therp, as a mother 
 has to study the temperament of each of her chil- 
 dren separately in order to be to them a good 
 mother. While the preacher, addressing a crowd, 
 draws the bow at a venture, not knowing whom 
 he may hit, and has carefully to avoid references to 
 
CHRIST AS A TEACHER. 265 
 
 particular persons,the teacher addresses every question 
 and remark straight to individuals ; and therefore he 
 must know the precise mental condition of every 
 one before him. This is why the names of the 
 Twelve are so exactly given in evangelist after 
 evangelist, and their relations to one another indi- 
 cated. Perhaps they included as great a variety 
 of disposition and experience as will ever be found 
 among the same number of men ; but they were 
 not too numerous for separate treatment, and there 
 is the completest evidence that their Master studied 
 everyone of them till He knew him through and 
 through, and carefully adapted His treatment to 
 each particular case. His affectionate way with 
 John exactly suited the temperament of that 
 disciple ; and equally adapted to the case was His 
 patient and delicate handling of Thomas. But His 
 treatment of Peter was the crown and glory of 
 His activity in this character. How completely 
 He knew him ! He managed the tumultuous and 
 fluctuating elements of his character as a perfect 
 rider does a high-mettled horse. And how success- 
 ful He was ! He transformed a nature unstable as 
 water into the consistency of rock ; and on this 
 rock He built the Church of the New Testament. 
 Similar results were achieved in the whole apostolic 
 circle. With the exception of the traitor, every one 
 
266 IMAGO CHRJSTI. 
 
 of the Twelve became, by means of the Master*s 
 teaching, able to be a pillar in the Church and a 
 power in the world. 
 
 Jesus combined the work of the preacher and 
 that of the teacher. The former was most fascinat- 
 ing, and it could easily have absorbed His whole 
 time and strength. The multitudes were clamorous 
 to have Him, and their needs spoke urgently to His 
 heart. Yet He saved most of His time for the 
 training of twelve ;?ien.f We love numbers too 
 much. We measure ministerial success by them ; 
 and many servants of God expend on them 
 their whole strength. It is true, indeed, that no 
 preacher who has the heart of Jesus in his breast 
 can join in the depreciation of the multitude which 
 sounds so wise, but is so cheap. Yet the example 
 of Jesus teaches us also a different lesson. It is 
 a saying of one of the wise, that the difference 
 between being broad and being narrow is the 
 difference between being a marsh and being a 
 stream ; and the quaint remark has a bearing on 
 the present case. If a moderate quantity of force, 
 such as may be in us, is distributed over too wide 
 a surface, it may have no more efi'ect than the inch- 
 deep water of a marsh ; but, concentrated on a 
 more limited task, it may be like a stream which 
 sings along its narrow channel and drives the mill. 
 
CHRIST AS A TEACHER. 267 
 
 Get a multitude and distribute your influence over 
 it, and every one may receive but little ; but throw 
 yourself on twelve men or six or even one, and 
 the effects may be deep and everlasting. There 
 are those quite unfit to address a multitude who 
 might teach a small number ; and it may turn out 
 in the end that they have done as much as if they 
 had been endowed with the more coveted gift. 
 
 11. 
 
 In some respects Christ's methods of teaching the 
 Twelve were similar to those which He pursued with 
 the multitude. They heard all His addresses to the 
 multitude, for they were always with Him ; whereas 
 the majority of His hearers can only have heard 
 Him once or twice. Besides, they heard from Him 
 in private many a discourse not dissimilar in its 
 structure to His public sermons. In the same way, 
 they witnessed all His miracles, because they ac- 
 companied Him wherever He went ; whereas the 
 majority saw only the miracles performed in one 
 or two places. Besides, He wrought some of His 
 very greatest miracles — such, for example, as the 
 stilling of the tempest — in their presence and for 
 their benefit alone. This constant repetition of great 
 impressions was an incalculable advantage. 
 
 But that which was distinctive in His method of 
 
268 IMAGO CHKJSTI, 
 
 dealing with them was the permission He gave them 
 to put questions, which He answered. Whenever 
 there was anything in His public discourses which 
 was obscure, they asked Him in private what it 
 meant, and He told them. Or, if they had hesitation 
 about the truth or wisdom of anything He stated, 
 they were at liberty to propound their doubts, and 
 He solved them. Thus, at the beginning of His 
 ministry, we find them asking why He spake in 
 parables, and again and again afterwards they re- 
 quested Him to explain a parable which they had 
 not fully understood. When they heard His severe 
 teaching on divorce, they said to Him, " If the case 
 of the man be so with his wife, it is not good to 
 marry," and drew from Him a fuller statement on 
 the subject. In the same way, when they heard 
 Him say that it is easier for a camel to go through 
 the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter 
 into the kingdom of God, they exclaimed, " Who 
 then can be saved ? " and thus led Him on to a 
 copious discourse on the subject of riches. In short, 
 we are told that, " when He was alone. He ex- 
 pounded all things to His disciples." 
 
 But He pursued this method further ; He not 
 only allowed them to ask questions, but provoked 
 them to do so. He deliberately wound His 
 statements in obscurity and paradox to excite the 
 
CHRIST AS A TEACHER. 269 
 
 questioning propensity. He Himself gave this ex- 
 planation of His habit of speaking in parables. The 
 parable waj a veil cast over the face of the truth for 
 the very purpose of tempting the hearers to lift it 
 and see the beauty which it half concealed and half 
 revealed. A teacher has done nothing unless he 
 awakens the mind to independent activity. As long 
 as it is merely passive, receiving what is poured into 
 it but doing nothing more, true education has not 
 commenced. It is only when the mind itself begins 
 to work on a subject, feeling within itself difficulties 
 to which the truth supplies the answers, and wants 
 to which it gives satisfaction, that growth com- 
 mences and progress is made. What Christ said 
 set the minds of His disciples in a ferment ; it was 
 intended to raise in them all sorts of perplexities, 
 and then they came to Him for their solution. 
 
 The method of Socrates, the wisest of heathen 
 teachers, was similar. In his teaching also question- 
 ing played a prominent part. When a disciple 
 came to him, Socrates would ask a question on 
 some important subject, such as righteousness, tem- 
 perance or wisdom, about which the disciple believed 
 himself to be perfectly well-informed. His answer 
 would be replied to by another question, designed to 
 make him doubt whether it was correct or sufficient. 
 Then Socrates would go on asking question aftei 
 
270 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 question from twenty different sides and angles of 
 the subject, till the disciple was made to see that his 
 own opinions about it were, as yet, nothing but a 
 confused bundle of contradictions, and probably also 
 that his mind itself was a mass of undigested pulp.* 
 Both methods had the same end — to excite 
 the mind to independent activity. Yet there is a 
 subtle and profound distinction between them. 
 Socrates asked questions which his disciples tried 
 to answer ; Jesus provoked His disciples to ask 
 questions which He answered. On the whole, what 
 was aimed at in the school of philosophy was the 
 mental gymnastic ; the answers to the questions did 
 not matter so much. Indeed, many philosophers 
 have avowed that the chief end of their work is 
 the mental invigoration obtained in the pursuit of 
 truth ; f and the saying of one of them is well 
 
 * Description by Dr. Chalmers of a foolish preacher ; story 
 still remembered in Kirkcaldy. 
 
 t Compare the witty remark of Novalis {Schriften^ vol. iii., 
 p. 196) : " Der Philosoph lebt von Problemen vvie der Mensch 
 von Speisen. Ein unauflosliches Problem ist eine unverdauliche 
 Speise. Was die Wiirze an den Speisen, das ist das Paradoxe 
 an den Problemen. Wahrhaft aufgelost wird ein Problem wenn 
 es als solches vernichtet wird. So auch mit den Speisen. Der 
 Gewinn von Beiden ist die Thatigkeit, die bei Beiden erregt 
 wird. Jedoch gibt es auch nahrende Probleme wie nahrende 
 Speisen, deren Elemente ein Zuwachs mtiner Intelligenz 
 warden." 
 
CHRIST AS A TEACHER. 271 
 
 known, that, if the Deity were to offer him in one 
 hand the pursuit of truth and in the other the truth 
 itself, he would unhesitatingly choose the former. 
 This may be a wise saying in the region of philo- 
 sophy ; but no wise man would make it in the 
 region of religion. It was saving truth of which 
 Jesus was a teacher. The pursuit of this also dis- 
 ciplines the mind, but we dare not be satisfied v. ith the 
 pursuit alone; we must have the answers to the great 
 questions of the soul. Therefore, whilst Socrates 
 questioned, Jesus answered ; and to Him, after wan- 
 dering in the obscurities of doubt and inquiry, men 
 will always have at last to come for the solution 
 of the problems of the spirit. '* Lord, to whom 
 shall we go ? Thou hast the words of eternal life." 
 
 III. 
 
 If we were to express the aim of Christ in the 
 training of the Twelve by saying that it was to pro- 
 vide successors to Himself, we should be using too 
 strong a word ; for of course in His greatest and 
 most characteristic work — the working out of re- 
 demption by His sufferings and death — He had, 
 and could have, no successor. He finished the worl^ 
 leaving nothing for anyone else to do. 
 
 But, this being understood, we may perhaps 
 best express what He did as a teacher by saying 
 
272 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 that He was training His own successors. When 
 He was taken from the earth, much that He had 
 been wont to do, and would have continued to do 
 had He remained here, fell to them. They had to 
 undertake the championing of the cause which He 
 had founded, and its guidance in the world. From 
 the very beginning of His own activity He had 
 had this in view ; and, in spite of preoccupations, 
 which would, if He had allowed them, have entirely 
 absorbed Him, He devoted Himself to the prepara- 
 tion of those who should take His place after His 
 departure. 
 
 He employed them at first in subordinate and 
 ministerial branches of His own work. For 
 example, it is expressly said that "Jesus baptized 
 not, but His disciples." After they had been longer 
 with Him and attained to some degree of Christian 
 maturity. He sent them forth to labour on their 
 own account. They made tours, perhaps of no 
 great extent, preaching and healing, and then 
 returned to tell Him " all things, both what they 
 had done and what they had taught," and to receive 
 instructions for further operations. In this way the 
 ground was sometimes broken up by the disciples 
 before the Master came to sow it with the seed of 
 eternal life ; and perhaps regions were overtaken 
 which He had not time to visit in person. But 
 
CHRIST AS A TEACHER. 273 
 
 above all, their powers were being developed and 
 their faith strengthened in view of the day, which 
 He foresaw, when they would find themselves left 
 alone face to face with the task of founding the 
 Church and conquering the world in His name. 
 
 It is one of the characteristics of genuine Chris- 
 tianity, that it gives us an interest not only in 
 the great events of the past, but also in the history 
 of the future. The average man cares little for the 
 future, except so far perhaps as his own offspring 
 may be concerned : if he is happy, what does it 
 matter to him what the state of the world will 
 be after he is dead ? But to a Christian it does 
 matter. The faith and love in his heart bind him 
 to the saints yet unborn. He is interested in a 
 cause which is to go on after he has left it, and 
 which he is to meet and take up again at a sub- 
 sequent stage of his existence. It is almost as 
 important to him how the work of Christ will 
 be prospering when he is in his grave as how it 
 is prospering now. This ought to make us think 
 anxiously of those who are to be doing our work 
 after we have left it. Christ thought of this from 
 the very commencement of His own activity; and 
 it was not too soon. 
 
 A man may do more for a cause by bringing 
 younger forces into its service and training them to 
 
274 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 their work than by lavishing on it every moment 
 of his own time and every atom of his energy. I 
 was recently reading a monograph on the history 
 of a particular branch of medicine ; and intensely 
 interesting it was to trace the progress from the 
 beginning of knowledge among the Greek naturalists 
 down through the Arab physicians of the Middle 
 Ages, till one came to the vast and daily multiplying 
 discoveries of modern science. But the name in 
 the whole succession which chiefly arrested my 
 attention was that of one whose contributions had 
 been very large, but who acknowledged that they 
 had not been strictly his own. He was always 
 surrounded by a group of young physicians whom 
 he inspired with enthusiasm for his subject ; then 
 he was in the habit of giving them single points of 
 obscurity to investigate ; and it was by the accumu- 
 lation of these detailed studies that he was able 
 to make vast additions to science. We need 
 nothing more pressingly in the Christian Church at 
 present than men who will thus guide the young 
 and the willing to their work, showing what needs 
 to be done and adapting talent to task. By taking 
 up this function of the teacher, many a man might 
 bring into the service of Christ those whose contribu- 
 tions would far surpass his own, as Barnabas did, 
 when he brought into the Church the services of Paul 
 
CHRIST AS A TEACHER. 275 
 
 IV. 
 
 Perhpps in our modern life the work most closely 
 resemblirg the work of Jesus as a teaeher is that 
 of a professor of divinity.* The students in our 
 theological seminaries and colleges are at the same 
 stage as the Twelve were before they were sent forth 
 on their independent course ; and the intercourse 
 between Christ and the Twelve, if carefully studied, 
 would throw much light on the relationship between 
 professors and students. 
 
 To the Twelve the most valuable part of their 
 connection wnth Christ was simply the privilege of 
 being with Him — of seeing that marvellous life 
 day by day, and daily receiving the silent, almost 
 
 * In Tlie Public JMiiiistiy and Pasto?'al MetJiods of oitr Lo7'd 
 Professor Blaikie heads a chapter, " The College of the Twelve." 
 He also suggests another analog}' : "A young mmister, for 
 example, may try to multiply himself by means of the j'oung 
 men of his flock. Some have a rare gift of finding out the most 
 susceptible of these — getting them about them in classes and 
 meetings, and perhaps sometimes in walks and at meals — ex- 
 plaining to them their plans, infusing into them their enthusiasm, 
 enlisting their sympathies, arid drawing out their talents. . . . Dr. 
 Chalmers in Glasgow, gathering young men around him, pouring 
 his own views and spirit into them, rousing them to aid in his 
 territorial schemes, and thus training the youths who in after 
 years became the elite of the Christian laity of the west, comes as 
 near as may be on a m.ere common level to the example of Christ 
 and His Twelve."' 
 
276 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 unobserved, impress of His character. St. John, 
 reflecting on this three years' experience long after- 
 wards, summed it up by saying, " We beheld His 
 glory ! " The word he uses denotes the shekinah 
 that shone above the mercy-seat. In those lonely 
 walks through Phoenicia and Peraea, in those close 
 talks on the hills of Galilee, they often felt that the 
 holy of holies was being opened to them, and that 
 they were gazing on the beauty that is ineffable. 
 
 The chief defect perhaps of theological train- 
 ing, as it is practised at present, is the lack of 
 this close intercourse between the teacher and the 
 taught. Few professors have attempted it on any 
 considerable scale. It would, indeed, be trying 
 work. No eyes are so keen as those of students. 
 If admitted close to a man, they take immediate 
 stock of his resources. They are hero-worshippers 
 when they believe in a professor ; but their scorn 
 is unmeasured if they disbelieve in him. They can 
 be dazzled by a reputation ; but only massiveness 
 of character and thoroughness of attainment can be 
 sure of permanently impressing them. 
 
 I know of only one man in recent times who 
 threw himself without fear or reserve into the most 
 intimate relations with students. His conduct was 
 so Christ-like and is so great an example, that it is 
 worthy of being commemorated here 
 
CHRIST AS A TEACHER. 277 
 
 riofessor Tholuck is well known, by name at 
 least, to all who have any tincture of theological 
 knowledge. His numerous works in exegesis and 
 apologetics give him a high place among the 
 evangelical theologians of the century. He ranks 
 still higher as a reforming force. What Wesley 
 did for the Church of England, and Chalmers for 
 the Church of Scotland, and Vinet for the Church 
 of Switzerland, he may be said to have done for the 
 Church of Germany : he fought down and annihi- 
 lated the old Rationalism, which corresponded to 
 our Moderatism, and during the first decades of this 
 century made evangelical religion a respected and 
 waxing power in the land.* 
 
 But the method by which he chiefly accomplished 
 this is what will entitle him to lasting remem- 
 brance in the Church of God. No sooner was he 
 converted and settled down to his work as an 
 academic teacher, than he at once began to seek 
 
 * The great name of Schleieimacher will doubtless occur to 
 many as deserving to occupy this place ; and it would be difficult 
 to overestimate the profundity and extent of his influence. But 
 to me at least the Life of Tholuck (by Witte, 1886) has been a 
 revelation as to what were the real sources of the Evangelical Re- 
 vival in Germany. Schleiermacher intellectualised the movement 
 and became the scientific guide of those who had been spii itually 
 quickened ; but the quickening itself, on which in the last resort 
 all depended, was largely due to humbler instrumentalities. 
 
278 IMAGO CHRIST L 
 
 intercourse with his students of a kind most 
 unusual in Germany. Not satisfied with merely 
 lecturing from his chair, he made himself personally 
 acquainted with them all, with the view of winning 
 them to Christ. He invited them to walk with 
 him ; he visited them in their lodgings ; he gathered 
 them in his rooms two evenings a week for prayer, 
 study of the Scriptures and reports of missionary 
 enterprise. As time went on and his classes grew, 
 this became a task of portentous dimensions. But 
 his devotion to it never relaxed. At the busiest 
 period of his life, when he was preparing lectures 
 which filled his class-room with crowds of students 
 and publishing the books which won him a worlds 
 wide reputation, he regularly sp^nt four hours a day 
 walking with students, besides having one student 
 at dinner with him and another at supper. 
 
 It was not superficial work. It bore no resem- 
 blance to the method of some who think they have 
 dealt with a man about his spiritual concerns when 
 they have once forced the subject of religion into con- 
 versation without preparation. He often found the 
 approaches to the mind of the student very difficult and 
 had to begin far out on the circumference of things. 
 Pie was full of geniality and overflowed with humour ; 
 he tried the students' wits with the oddest questions, 
 and those who had enjoyed the privilege of walking 
 
CHRJST AS A TEACHER. 279 
 
 with him would retail for weeks afterwards the quips 
 and sallies in which he had indulged. He was full 
 of intellectual interest, knew how to draw every man 
 out on the subjects with which he was acquainted, 
 and could give invaluable hints on books and 
 methods of study. He endeavoured to rouse and 
 stimulate the mind from every side, and many 
 owed to him their mental as well as their spiritual 
 awakening. He did not neglect the body either : no 
 professor in Germany did so much to help on poor 
 students. Yet, all the time, he had his eye on one 
 object and was drifting steadily towards it — the 
 personal salvation of every student with whom he 
 had to deal. 
 
 He had his reward. It w^as known in his lifetime 
 that his success had been great ; but it is only by 
 the publication of his biography that it has been 
 made known how great it was. Among his papers 
 were found hundreds of letters from students and 
 ministers owning him as their spiritual father ; and 
 it turns out that among his converts were some of 
 the most illustrious names in the German literary 
 history of the century. In the pulpits and pro- 
 fessorial chairs of Germany there are at present 
 hundreds working for the evangel who owe their 
 souls to him. 
 
 Why does such a life seem to us so original and 
 
>8o IMAGO CHRISTL 
 
 exceptional ? Why is it not repeated in other 
 spheres — in the office, the shop and the school, as 
 well as in the Church and the university ? Tholuck 
 explained the secret of his life in a single 
 sentence: " I have but one passion, and that is 
 Christ." 
 
XV. 
 
 CHRIST AS A CONTROVERSIALIST 
 
Matt. V. 21-48. Luke vii. 36-50. 
 
 „ ix. 10-13. „ X, 25-37. 
 
 „ xii. 24-45. „ xi. 37-54. 
 
 „ XV. 1-14. ,, xii. I. 
 
 „ xvi. 1-4. ,, xiii. II-17. 
 
 „ xix. 3-12. 
 
 ,, xxi. 23-46. John ii. iS-20. 
 
 „ xxii. „ V. 
 
 „ xxiii. ,, vi. 41-65. 
 
 „ vii. 10-53. 
 „ viii. 12-59. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CHRIST AS A CONTROVERSIALIST. 
 
 ^T^HE ministers of the temple of truth, it has been 
 ■^ said, are of three kinds : first, those stationed at 
 the gate of the temple to constrain the passers-by to 
 come in; secondly, those whose function is to accom- 
 pany inside all who have been persuaded to enter, 
 and display and explain to them the treasures and 
 secrets of the place ; and, thirdly, those whose duty 
 is to patrol round the temple, keeping watch and 
 ward and defending the shrine from the attacks of 
 enemies. We are only speaking very roughly if we 
 say that the first of these three functions is that of 
 the Preacher, the second that of the Teacher, and the 
 third that of the Controversialist. 
 
 I. 
 
 At the present time controversy has an evil name; 
 the mere mention of it excites alarm; and the image 
 of the controversialist, in most people's minds, is any- 
 thing but an amiable or admired figure. He who is 
 
284 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 called in providence to undertake the function of 
 controversy can reckon less than almost any other 
 servant of Christ on the sympathy and appreciation 
 of Christ's people ; for even those who agree v^^ith 
 his view of the truth will be sorry that he has 
 allowed himself to enter the atmosphere of strife, 
 and regret that he has not rested content with 
 other kinds of work. This temper of mind of the 
 Christian public has had its natural result. Able 
 men are shy of undertaking work of this kind, 
 easily finding employment for their talents in 
 other directions, where labour is more appreciated. 
 Controversy has accordingly fallen to a large ex- 
 tent into the hands of inferior practitioners; and 
 it would be easy to mention controversies acknow- 
 ledged to be of vital consequence to the welfare of 
 the Church which do not receive the support of 
 the champions whose advocacy would lend them 
 dignity in the eyes of men. 
 
 It would be interesting to trace this state of public 
 feeling back to its causes; for without doubt there 
 are good reasons for it. It would probably be found 
 to be a reaction from the temper of a time when 
 controversy was carried to excess ; for, although an 
 important function of the Church, controversy is 
 far from being the most important ; and that which 
 in due proportion is wholesome may in excess be 
 
CHRIST AS A CONTROVERSIALIST. 285 
 
 poisonous. In their zeal for truth good men have 
 sometimes forgotten to be zealous for charity. Con- 
 troversy has raged round small points, on which 
 Christians might well agree to differ, with a heat 
 and violence which would only have been justified 
 had the hearths and altars been at stake. When 
 men thus indulge their passions, they lose from their 
 own minds the sense of proportion, and, having 
 expended their superlatives on objects of trifling 
 importance, they have not the use of them when 
 subjects emerge to which they would be really 
 applicable. They also lose their hold on others ; for 
 the public mind, having been flogged into fury over 
 questions which it afterwards discovers were not 
 worth fighting about, refuses to stir even when the 
 citadel is in danger. Thus has the Church to 
 expiate her mistakes. 
 
 Yet it is no good sign of the times that contro- 
 versy should be looked down upon. As has been 
 mentioned in the Preface to this book, we have had 
 to refrain from printing in full the evidence, from the 
 Gospels, of the conduct of Jesus in the different 
 departments of life ; but, had this been done, the 
 bulkiest of all these bodies of evidence would have 
 been the appendix to the present chapter. In the 
 records of His life we have pages upon pages of 
 controversy. It may have been far from the work 
 
IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 in which He deh'^rhted most to be eng-aged ; but 
 He had to undertake it all through His life, and 
 especially towards the close. The most eminent of 
 His servants in every age have had to do the same. 
 St. Paul may not have been indisposed by nature to 
 throw himself into controversy; but St. John had to 
 enter into it with equal earnestness. It is scarcely 
 possible to mention a representative man in any 
 section of the Christian Church in any age who has 
 been able altogether to avoid it. 
 
 The spirit of the true controversialist is the joyful 
 and certain sense of possessing the truth, and the 
 conviction of its value to all men, which makes error 
 hateful and inspires the determination to sweep it 
 away.* It was as the King of Truth t that Christ 
 carried on controversy, and He was borne along by 
 
 * " Late in life he (Mozley) speculated on the controversial 
 temper with an evident though unacknowledged sense of ex- 
 perience. He did not appear to estimate it over-highly, further 
 than as he considered it now to be rare. The contrary tem- 
 perament was dealt with tenderly — the one that really needs the 
 agreement of those around it, that has a sense of discomfort and 
 privation without it, that must act with others; but the true 
 controversial spiiit, that which, strong in the feeling of possession, 
 of a firm hold of its own view, rises with opposition or neglect, 
 vvhi( h can ttand alone, ready as it were for ail comers, this was 
 the temper that, as he defined it, his nature evidently responded 
 to."— Introduction to Mozley' s Essays. 
 
 t John xviii. 37. 
 
CHRIST AS A CONTROVERSIALIST, 287 
 
 the generous passion to cut His fellow-men out from 
 their imprisonment in the labyrinth of error. Ex- ( 
 cessive aversion to controversy may be an indication 
 that a Church has no keen sense of possessing truth 
 which is of any great worth, and that it has lost 
 appreciation for the infinite difference in value 
 between truth and error. 
 
 II. 
 
 There are differences, indeed, in the present feeling 
 of the public mind to different kinds of controversy. 
 One of the tasks of controversy is to combat error 
 outside of the Church. Christianity is incessantly 
 assailed by forms of unbelief, which arise one after 
 another and have their day. At one time it is 
 Deism which requires to be refuted, at another 
 Pantheism, at another Materialism. To defend the 
 temple of Christian truth from such assailants is popu- 
 lar enough and meets with perhaps even excessive 
 rewards. This kind of controversy is accordingly 
 much cultivated and sometimes may be indulged 
 in where it is not needed. When it is of the right 
 quality, however, its value cannot be overestimated; 
 and at the present moment it requires the very 
 highest talent, for the apologetic problems of our 
 century have not yet been solved. 
 
 It is controversy within the Church which excites 
 
288 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 alarm and aversion. Yet the controversy which our 
 Lord waged was inside the Church ; and so has 
 been that carried on by the most eminent of His 
 followers. It would, indeed, be well if the sound 
 of controversial weapons were never heard in the 
 temple of peace ; but only on condition that it is 
 also a temple of truth. In the time of Christ it was 
 the stronghold of error; and not once or twice since 
 then it has been the same. Jesus had to assail nearly 
 the whole ecclesiastical system of His time and a 
 large body of the Church's doctrines. To do so 
 must, to a thoughtful mind, in any circumstances be 
 an extremely painful task ; for the faith reposed in 
 their spiritual guides by the mass of men, who have 
 little leisure or ability to think out vast subjects to 
 the bottom, is one of the most sacred pillars of the 
 edifice of human life; and nothing can be more 
 criminal than wantonly to shake it. But it some- 
 times needs to be shaken, and Jesus did so. 
 
 Of course the opposite case may easily occur : the 
 Church may have the truth, and the innovator may 
 be in error. Then the true place of the Christian 
 controversialist is on the side of the Church against 
 him who is trying to mislead her. This also is a 
 delicate task, requiring the utmost Christian wisdom 
 and sometimes likely to be repaid with little thanks; 
 for, while he who defends the Church against error 
 
CHRIST AS A CONTROVERSIALIST. 2S9 
 
 coming from the outside is loaded with honours as 
 a saviour of the faith, he who attempts to preserve 
 her from more menacing danger within may be 
 dismissed with the odious and withering title of 
 heresy-hunter. But it is not easy to see what ethical 
 standing-ground there is to the competent Christian 
 man between either, on the one hand, attacking the 
 Church himself as heretical or, on the other, being 
 prepared to defend her from accusations of not 
 teaching the truth. 
 
 III. 
 
 Christ and the Jewish teac'ners with whom He 
 contended had a common standard and test of con- 
 troversies to which they appealed. Both acknow- 
 ledged the Scriptures of the Old Testament to be 
 the Word of God. As this gave a peculiar colouring 
 to all His work among the Jewish people, whom He 
 addressed as He could not have preached to any 
 other nation, so also it immensely simplified His 
 work as a controversialist. His superiority con- 
 sisted in His more intimate familiarity with this 
 standard to which they both appealed. They were, 
 indeed, the learned men of the nation, and the Old 
 Testament was their text-book ; while He, as they 
 liked to remind Him, had never learned. But His 
 intense love for the V/ord of His Father and His 
 
 19 
 
290 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 life-long diligence in searching it made Him far 
 more than a match for them on their own ground. 
 Out of the stores of memory He could fetch the 
 passage which was needed on every occasion ; and, 
 as He brought forth the word which was to over- 
 throw their argument, He would sometimes taunt 
 them, who boasted of their acquaintance with the 
 Bible, by beginning His quotation with the question, 
 " Have ye never read ? " At other times, in a more 
 solemn mood, He would tell them plainly, " Ye do 
 err, not knowing the Scriptures." 
 
 He did not, however, trust merely to His know- 
 ledge of the letter of Scripture. This is the method 
 of the small controversialist, who is satisfied if he can 
 always meet text with text and if at the end he has 
 one text more than his opponent. Such controversy 
 is barren as the sand of the sea driven with the 
 wind and has no more value than the bickerings 
 of kites and crows. It is this kind of controversy 
 which has brought the controversial function of the 
 Church into contempt. In the true controversialist 
 there is more than mere familiarity with the text of 
 Scripture : he has a grasp of scriptural principles, a 
 religious experience of his own which interprets the 
 Scripture, and a nearness to God which imparts 
 earnestness and dignity to his work. 
 
 The mind of Jesus stood thus above the mere 
 
CHRIST AS A CONTROVERSIALIST. 291 
 
 letter of Scripture and handled it with consumnnate 
 ease and freedom. This was why He scarcely ever 
 quoted a text of the Old Testament without reveal- 
 ing a new meaning in it. It was as if His touch 
 split it asunder and showed the gem flashing at its 
 heart. Sometimes He would gather a principle from 
 the general scope of Scripture which seemed to dis- 
 soly;e and even contradict the mere letter.* While 
 loving and reverencing the Word of His Father with 
 His w^hole soul, He knew Himself to be the organ 
 of a revelation in which the older one was to be 
 merged, as the light of the stars is lost in the dawn 
 of the morning. 
 
 Rut it was not with Scripture alone that Jesus 
 operated as a controversialist. There is an appeal 
 to the common sense and to the reason of men — 
 an appeal away from the mere pedantry of learning 
 and the citation of authorities — which every contro- 
 versialist of real mark must be able to make. And, 
 if it can be miade in a flash of wit or in an epigram 
 which stamps itself instantly on the memory, the 
 effect is irresistible, when the controversy is carried 
 on before popular judges. Jesus possessed this 
 power in the highest degree, as many of His sayings 
 show. One of the most striking is this, at which 
 
 ♦ E.g., Matt. V. 31, 33. 
 
292 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 " they marvelled, and left Him, and went their way " : 
 " Render unto Caesar the things which are Csesar's 
 and unto God the things which are God's." 
 
 IV. 
 
 In any exposition of the ethics of controversy at 
 the present day, a prominent place would be given 
 to the duty of treating opponents with consideration. 
 However severely their arguments may be handled, 
 their persons ought to be treated with respect, and 
 they should receive credit for honourable motives. 
 
 No rule could be more reasonable. V/e know 
 but little of our fellow-men at the best, and, when 
 anything inflames us against them, it is easy to be 
 blinded by prejudice to their excellences. On the 
 other hand, we know so much about ourselves that we 
 may well hesitate to cast stones at others. No man 
 has all the truth, and an opponent may be seeing a 
 side of it which we cannot see. God sometimes 
 gets the whole truth given to the Church only by the 
 halves of it, held by different minds, meeting at first 
 in conflict. The fire generated by their collision 
 unites them at last in perfect fusion.^ 
 
 * " They that purify sih^er to the purpose, use to put it in the 
 fire again and again, that it may be thoroughly tried. So is the 
 truth of God ; there is scrrce any truth but hath been tried over 
 and over again, and still if any dross liappen to mingle with it, 
 
CHRIST AS A CONTROVERSIALIST. 293 
 
 Yet, excellent as this rule is, it is not without 
 exceptions ; for Jesus broke it. We have not enough 
 information to know whether or not at the begin- 
 ning of His career He treated His opponents with 
 more consideration ; but, towards the end of His 
 life. He exposed them with more and more keen- 
 ness, and at last He poured on Pharisees, scribes 
 and priests a torrent of scorn never equalled in its 
 withering and annihilating vehemence.* 
 
 In point of fact, our estimate of the characters of 
 men exercises an important influence on the value 
 we set on their opinions. We may not be able to 
 express it in public, yet in secret we may know that 
 about an opponent which robs his opinions of all 
 weight. He may be writing or speaking confidently 
 on religious subjects, while we know him to be a 
 
 then God calls it in question again. If in former times there 
 have been Scriptures alleged that have not been pertinent to 
 prove it, that truth shall into the fire again, that what is dross 
 may be burnt up ; the Holy Ghost is so curious, so delicate, so 
 exact, He cannot bear that falsehood should be mingled with the 
 truths of the Gospel. That is the reason, therefore, why that 
 God doth still, age after age, call former things in question, 
 because that there is still some dross one way or other mingled 
 with them ; either in the stating the opinions themselves, or else 
 in the Scriptures that are brought and alleged for them, that 
 have passed for current, for He will never leave till He have 
 purified them." — Thomas Goodwin. 
 * Matt, xxiii. 
 
294 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 thoroughly irreligious man, who has not the very 
 faculty on which true insight in such matters de- 
 pends, and who could not afford to confess the 
 truth, ev^en if he knew it, because it would condemn 
 himself at every point. It may in certain circum- 
 stances be a duty to make this public. Jesus often 
 told the Jewish teachers that it was impossible for 
 them to understand Him, because they lacked moral 
 sympathy with the truth ; and the interests of 
 priests and Pharisees were vested in the system of 
 hypocrisy which their arguments were invented to 
 defend. Our judgments in such cases are liable to 
 be mistaken ; but He could completely trust His 
 own ; and at last He broke all the authority of His 
 opponents by thoroughly exposing their character. 
 
 V. 
 
 In the very rush of the controversial onset, how- 
 ever, Jesus would pause to note and acknowledge a 
 better spirit, if any sign of candour showed itself 
 in an opponent. 
 
 There was a day of fierce conflict in His life 
 to which the Ev^angelists devote close attention. It 
 was one of the days of the last week before He 
 suffered, and a combination of a most formidable 
 character took place among His enemies, to con- 
 fute Him and put Him down. The scribes and 
 
CIJRIST AS A CONTROVERSIALIST. 295 
 
 Pharisees were there of course ; even the Sadducees, 
 who in general neglected Him, had come out of 
 their haughty retirement ; and Pharisees and Hero- 
 dians, who generally hated one another, were for 
 once united in a common purpose. They had 
 arranged well beforehand the questions with which 
 they were to try Him ; they had chosen their 
 champions ; and one after another they delivered 
 their assaults upon Him in the Temple. But it 
 was for them a day of disaster and humiliation ; 
 for He refuted them so conclusively that " no 
 man was able to answer Him a word ; neither 
 durst any man from that day forth ask Him any 
 more questions." 
 
 In the very midst, however, of this exciting scene 
 a controversialist arose to whom Jesus extended 
 very different treatment than to the rest. The man 
 appears to have known comparatively little about 
 Christ, except that He was one who was everywhere 
 spoken against. But he was a scribe, and, as his 
 party was attacking Christ, he was drawn into the 
 same attitude. He looked upon Him as a misleader 
 of the people, who deserved to be put down, and he 
 had come to do so. Yet the answers which he 
 heard Jesus giving before his own turn came shook 
 him ; for they were right answers, which by no 
 means confirmed the impressions of Christ which he 
 
296 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 had brought to the spot. Some such acknowledg- 
 ment seems to have been conveyed in the tone of 
 his own question, when he put it. 
 
 It was, indeed, but a paltry question, "Which is 
 the first commandment of all .? " This was one of 
 the subjects on which in the rabbinical schools 
 they were wont to chop logic, and the man pro- 
 bably considered that it was one on which he was 
 superior to any other rabbi. Jesus, however, had 
 observed something that pleased Him in the man's 
 look or manner, and, instead of merely overthrowing 
 and humiliating him, as He had done to the others, 
 He gave him a full and earnest answer : " The 
 first of all the commandments is, Hear, O Israel ; 
 The Lord our God is one Lord : and thou shalt 
 love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with 
 all thy soul, and with all thy mind : this is the first 
 commandment. And the second is like, namely 
 this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. 
 There is none other commandment greater than 
 these." 
 
 To us this is familiar teaching, and it falls on our 
 senses without making much impression. But it is 
 not difficult to conceive with what irresistible power 
 and majesty it may have fallen on a mind which 
 heard it for the first time. It seems to have thrown 
 the man completely out of the cavilling attitude into 
 
CHRIST AS A CONTROVERSIALIST. 297 
 
 one of intense moral earnestness. It not only smote 
 his arguments down, but burst open the doors of 
 his being and went straight to his conscience, which 
 sent back the echo instantaneously and clearly : 
 " Well, Master, Thou hast said the truth : for there 
 is one God ; and there is none other but He : and 
 to love Him with all the heart, and with all the 
 understanding, and with all the soul, and with all 
 the strength, and to love his neighbour as himself, 
 is more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices." 
 
 This was a noble answer. The man had forgotten 
 the role he had come to play ; he had forgotten his 
 comrades, and ^^'hat they were expecting of him ; he 
 let his heart speak and did homage to the moral 
 dignity of Christ. Jesus marked the change with 
 deep inward satisfaction and said to him, " Thou 
 art not far from the kingdom of God." 
 
 This is a great example. To attack them 
 remorselessly in controversy often drives into per- 
 manent opposition those who mic^ht be won by 
 milder treatment. Men may appear as opponents 
 of Christianity who in their hearts are very near 
 it ; and it is Christ-like to detect this sympathy 
 and bring it to expression. To prove to men 
 that they are outside the kingdom is an easy thing 
 in comparison ; but it may be far better to let 
 them see that they are only a few steps from 
 
298 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 its threshold. The triumph of a ruthless polemic 
 may gratify the natural heart ; but far more 
 like the Master, where it is possible, is a winning 
 irenicum. 
 
XVI. 
 
 CHRIST AS A MAN OF FEELING. 
 
Matt. viii. 17. 
 
 Matt. 
 
 viiL 
 
 10. 
 
 
 Matt. xvi. 23. 
 
 „ ix. 36. 
 
 )! 
 
 ix. 
 
 2,28. 
 
 
 „ xvii. 17. 
 
 „ xiv. 14. 
 
 » 
 
 xi. ( 
 
 5. 
 
 
 „ xxvi. 50, 55. 
 
 „ XV. 32. 
 
 )) 
 
 xiii 
 
 .58. 
 
 
 Mark i. 25. 
 
 „ XX. 34. 
 
 » 
 
 xiv 
 
 •31- 
 
 
 „ iii- 5- 
 
 Mark i. 41. 
 
 »> 
 
 XV. 
 
 28. 
 
 
 „ XV. 3, 5. 
 
 „ iv. 33- 
 
 »» 
 
 xxvi. 13, 
 
 38. 
 
 Luke iv. 35; 39-4: 
 
 Luke vii. 11-15. 
 
 Mark 
 
 : vi. 
 viii 
 
 5,6. 
 . 12. 
 
 
 John xi. 33-38. 
 
 
 Luke vii. 
 
 9. 
 
 
 
 
 » 
 
 xvii. 17. 
 
 
 
 Matt, xxvii. 34. 
 
 
 
 
 Matt. 
 
 viii. 4. 
 
 Mark x. 13-16 ; 
 
 ; 21. 
 
 
 
 »» 
 
 ix. 30. 
 
 „ xii. 34. 
 
 
 
 
 »» 
 
 xii. 16. 
 
 Luke X. 21. 
 
 
 
 
 »> 
 
 xiv. 22. 
 
 „ xix. 41. 
 
 
 
 
 >» 
 
 xvi. 20. 
 
 John viii. i-i I 
 
 
 
 
 J! 
 
 xvii. 9. 
 
 „ xii. 27. 
 
 
 
 
 Mark 
 
 vii. 24. 36. 
 
 „ xiii. 21. 
 
 
 
 
 ;> 
 
 viii. 26. 3a 
 
 ^ XX. 16, I 
 
 7. 
 
 
 
 John 
 
 V. 13- 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CHRIST AS A MAN OF FEELING. 
 
 O O much learning has been expended in the present 
 ^^ age on the Life of Christ, and every particle 
 of the record has been so thoroughly sifted, that 
 it may be questioned if mere intellect will now 
 discover much that is new in the subject. There 
 may still, however, be great scope for the divina- 
 tory power of feeling.* Jesus was as refined and 
 delicate in feeling as He was wise in speech and 
 mighty in act ; and the motives of His conduct are 
 often incomprehensible except to those who possess 
 in some degree the same feelings as He had. He 
 
 * No more brilliant instance of such ps3^chological interpre- 
 tation could be adduced than the explanation given in Ecce Homo 
 of our Lord's conduct when the woman taken in adultery was 
 brought to Him. "He stooped down and wrote on the ground" 
 (John viii. 8). Why did He do so? It was because He was 
 ashamed of listening to a foul story. "He was seized with an 
 intolerable sense of shame. He could not meet the eye of the 
 crowd, or of the accusers, and perhaps at that moment least 
 of all of the woman. ... In His burning embarrassment and 
 
302 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 taught mankind to feel finely, and ever since He was 
 in the world there have been increasing numbers 
 who have learned from Him to regard childhood and 
 woman, poverty and service, and many other objects, 
 with sentiments totally different from those with 
 which they were regarded before His advent. 
 
 The notices in the Gospels of the impressions 
 made on His feelings by different situations in 
 which He was placed are extraordinarily numerous ; 
 but a single incident — the raising of the daughter 
 of Jairus — in which the feelings of His heart came 
 conspicuously into view will serve as a sufficient 
 clue. 
 
 I. 
 
 His Compassion was illustrated in this incident. 
 
 It was the case of a man whose only daughter 
 was lying at the point of death ; and he besought 
 Jesus greatly for her, says St. Mark. The heart 
 of Jesus could not but answer such an appeal. In 
 
 confusion He stooped down so as to hide His face, and began 
 writing with His finger on the ground." Everyone who reads 
 this explanation feels it to be the true one ; it shines with its 
 own light ; and, when first heard, gives a shock of delighted 
 surprise. 
 
 The author adds, "The effect on Jesus was such as might 
 have been produced upon many men since, but perhaps scarcely 
 upon any man that ever lived before." 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF FEELING. 303 
 
 a similar instance — tliat of a woman with an only 
 son, the widow of Nain — it is said that, when the 
 Lord saw her following behind the bier. He had 
 compassion on her and said to her, " Weep not." He 
 not only gave the required help in such cases, but 
 gave it with an amount of sympathy which doubled 
 its value. Thus He not only raised Lazarus, but 
 wept with his sisters. In curing a man who was 
 deaf. He sighed as He said, '* Ephphatha." All His 
 healing work cost Hirn feeling. There is a great 
 difference between the clergyman or physician who 
 merely calls at the house of sorrow as a matter of 
 duty, to be able to say that he has been there, and 
 him who takes the suffering of the stricken home 
 on his heart and goes away melted and broken 
 down with it. 
 
 On this occasion the compassion of Christ was 
 deepened by the fact that it was a child who was 
 ill. " My little daughter " she was called by her 
 father. All the scenes in Christ's life in which 
 children appear are exquisitely touching ; and it 
 was His feeling which gave them their beauty and 
 pathos. As you look at them, you feel that He 
 not only knew all that is in a father's and a mother's 
 heart, but sank new wells in the heart of humanity 
 and brought love up from deeper levels than it had 
 sprung from before. Ruskin has observed that there 
 
304 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 are no children in Greek art, but that they abound 
 in Christian art — an unmistakable token that it was 
 the e}e of Christ which first fully appreciated the 
 attractiveness of childhood. 
 
 II. 
 
 A second feeling which Jesus showed in this 
 incident was Sensitiveness. 
 
 At Jairus* request He went to the house where 
 the dying girl was ; but on the way a messenger 
 met them, who told the poor father that all was 
 over, and that he need not trouble the Master any 
 further. Whereupon, without waiting to be ap- 
 pealed to, Jesus turned to him and said, " Be not 
 afraid ; only believe." 
 
 In this we might see a new instance of His 
 compassion ; but it also reveals something else : 
 Jesus was extremely sensitive to the sentiments of 
 trust or distrust with which He was regarded. If 
 any generosity of belief was shown towards Him, 
 His heart filled with gladness, and He acknowledged 
 His gratification without stint. Thus, when another 
 applicant for help, in a situation not unlike that of 
 Jairus, expressed his belief that, if Jesus would only 
 speak a word even at a distance, without going to 
 the house in winch the sick person was lying, a cure 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF FEELIXG. 305 
 
 would ensue, Jesus stood still in the road and, turn- 
 ing to the bystanders, exclaimed, " I have not found 
 so great faith, no, not in Israel." The faith of 
 Jairus, though not so strong as this, had evidently 
 gratified Him, and it was because He could not 
 bear to have it clouded witli doubt that He hastened 
 so promptly to strengthen it. 
 
 He had, however, many an experience to en- 
 counter of the opposite kind, and the feeling thereby 
 occasioned in Him was keen. If now and then He 
 had to marvel at the greatness of faith. He had to 
 marvel far oftener at unbelief. In His own native 
 place, when He visited it. He could do scarcely any 
 mighty works on this account. The rebuff so 
 chilled His heart that the activity of His miraculous 
 power was restrained. His most signal favours 
 were somiCtimes received with ingratitude, as in the 
 case of the ten lepers, of whom only one returned to 
 give thanks for his cure, causing Him to ask sadly, 
 " Where are the nine } " 
 
 HI. 
 
 A third species of feeling which He betrayed on 
 this occasion was Indignation. 
 
 When He reached the house, not only was the 
 child dead, but the place had been taken possession 
 of by the mumn^ers who undertook the ghastly 
 
 20 
 
3o6 IMAGO CHRISTI. 
 
 ceremonial of mourning. Death, though the most 
 solemn of all events, has in many countries been 
 invested with absurdity through the mourning 
 customs with which it has been associated ; but in 
 Palestine this was carried to an extreme. As soon 
 as a death took place, the house was invaded by 
 professional mourners, who filled it with wild ulula- 
 tions and doleful music. This hideous custom was 
 in full operation when Jesus arrived, and to His 
 serene soul it was intolerable. He indignantly 
 enjoined silence, and, when this was not forthcoming. 
 He drove the whole ghastly apparatus forth and 
 cleared the house. 
 
 Indignation, though closely allied to sinful anger, 
 is not vicious, but virtuous. It is the sign of an 
 honourable and self-respecting nature. The soul 
 that loves order, uprightness and nobleness cannot 
 but be indignant at disorder, duplicity and mean- 
 ness. The indignation of Jesus is often mentioned. 
 It could be aroused by unseemly noise and con- 
 fusion, as on this occasion. When casting out 
 devils, he used angrily to rebuke the outcries of the 
 possessed. He is represented in the same attitude 
 when calming the winds and waves in the storm, 
 presumably because He was counteracting the prince 
 of the power of the air. The whole empire of 
 Satan is the empire of disorder, and every manifes- 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF FEELING. 307 
 
 tation of its power affected Him in this way. This 
 explains the strange tumult of indignant excitement 
 in which He advanced to the grave of Lazarus : 
 His condition of mind was one of angry vengeance 
 against the ravages of death.* 
 
 The state of the times in which He lived afforded 
 peculiar occasion for the display of this sentiment. 
 It was because the mourning in the house of Jairus 
 was professional, with no heart in it, that He dis- 
 liked it so utterly. But the society of Judaea at 
 that time was one vast hypocrisy. The holders 
 of sacred offices were self-seekers ; the professors of 
 
 * The story of the raising of Lazarus so abounds with notices 
 of Christ's emotions that we might have taken it for our clue 
 instead of the raising of the daughter of Jairus. As He ap- 
 proached the grave of Lazarus, it is said " He groaned in spirit, 
 and was troubled ; " but the Greek words are much stronger : 
 ev€^pifj.r)(TaTO rw Trvevfj-art kqI erdpa^ev eavTov. The first verb 
 denotes, not groaning, but " visibly-expressed indignation, dis- 
 pleasure, or wrath ;"' and the second denotes the change in His 
 countenance caused by this indignation. '• His w^hole frame 
 was moved. A storm of wrath was seen to sweep over Him." 
 What was the cause of this angry agitation ? " He was gazing 
 into the skeleton face of the world, and tracing everywhere the 
 reign of death. The whole earth to Him was but ' the valley of 
 the shadow of death ; ' and in those tears which were shed in His 
 presence He saw that 
 
 'Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe 
 Are brackish with the salt of human tears.' 
 
 . . . But this is not all. Behind the presence of death there 
 
3o8 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 piety were hunting for the praise of men ; the 
 teachers of the people laid grievous burdens on 
 other men's shoulders, which they would not them- 
 selves touch with one of their fingers ; sacred 
 language was a cloak for spoliation and impurity. 
 Jesus burned with indignation against it all and 
 poured His feelings out in philippics against the 
 parties and personalities of the time. 
 
 His was holy fire : it was the flame of truth 
 consuming falsehood, of justice attacking wrong, 
 of love burning against selfishness. Too often the 
 crusade against shams and hypocrisy has been 
 inspired by zeal which is unholy. Men have under- 
 taken the office of the censor and satirist whose own 
 hearts have not been pure and whose lives have 
 been inconsistent, pluckingthe mote out of their 
 brother's e}'e, and behold a beam was in their own. 
 They have only masqueraded in the garment of 
 
 was the awful reality, not only of sin, 'the sting of death,' but 
 also of him through whom sin came,— him who is in this Gospel 
 so frequently calkd ' the piince of this world.' If then we would 
 rightly understand the true meaning of our Lord's wrath, His 
 visibly-expressed indignation, we must regard Him here as 
 confronting in conflict the great enemy of His kingdom, — the 
 destro5^er of the race which He Himself had come to save." 
 
 See a remarkable paper on this difficult passage by the Rev. 
 John Hutchison, D.D., in the Monti dy Interpreter, vol. u. (T. <Sj 
 T. Clark, 18S5). 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF FEELING. 309 
 
 indignation.. But this robe found in Jesus its 
 true wearer, and He wore it with incomparable 
 dignity. " Are ye come out," He demanded of 
 those about to arrest Him, "as against a thief?" 
 " Judas," He asked the traitor, " betrayest thou the 
 Son of man with a kiss ? " Before the high-priest, 
 Pilate and Herod His indignant silence was more 
 eloquent than the most scorching words. He has 
 not put off this garment yet : in heaven still burns 
 '* the wrath of the Lamb." 
 
 IV. 
 
 A fourth mode of feeling characteristic of Jesus 
 which was illustrated on this occasion was Delicacy. 
 
 Having put the professional mourners out, He 
 went into the room of death, where the little maid 
 was lying on the bed. But He did not go alone, 
 or only with the three disciples whom He had taken 
 into the house with Him : He took with Him the 
 father and mother of the maiden, as being deeply 
 interested in her who was their own and entitled 
 to see all that happened to her. 
 
 Then He took her by the hand before pronouncing 
 the resurrection words ; for He did not wish her to 
 be startled when she woke, but to feel the support 
 of a sympathetic presence. Many a one in an hour 
 of agitation or when coming out of a swoon has 
 
310 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 felt how it steadies and strengthens to be held by 
 a firm hand and to look into a calm face. 
 
 Thus He did all with perfect tact, not by calcu- 
 lation, but with the instinct of delicate feeling, which 
 guided Him at every turn to do precisely the best 
 thing. Yet there was no straining after refinement. 
 The besetting sin of emotional natures is to over- 
 strain and overdo. But how healthy and manly 
 was the feeling of Jesus ! His very next act, after 
 these exquisite touches, was this : '' He commanded 
 that something should be given her to eat." In the 
 same way, after days of healing and preaching in 
 the wilderness, during which He had been borne 
 along with the prophetic enthusiasm, it was He who 
 made the proposal that food should be given to 
 the multitude, before they were dispersed, lest they 
 should faint by the way ; the disciples, though far 
 less preoccupied, never thinking of such a thing. 
 He excelled them as much in considerateness and 
 practicality as in delicacy of feeling. 
 
 V. 
 
 The last kind of feeling exhibited by our Lord 
 on this occasion was Modesty. 
 
 After the miracle was performed, *' He charged 
 them straitly that no man should know it." This 
 is the sequel to many a work of wonder in His life. 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF FEELING, 311 
 
 " See thou tell no man," He said to a leper whom 
 He had cleansed. " See that no man know it," He 
 said to two blind men whose sight He had restored. 
 He straitly charged those, as a rule, out of whom 
 He had cast devils not to make Him known. 
 
 Such notices abound in the Gospels ; yet I am 
 not sure that I have ever seen the true explanation 
 of them given. All kinds of elaborate explanations 
 have been attempted. In one case, for example, it 
 is said that He forbade the man who had been 
 healed to mention his cure, lest it should do him 
 harm by puffing him up ; in another, because his 
 testimony would have had no weight ; in a third, 
 because it was not yet time to acknowledge Himself 
 to be the Messiah ; and so on. Such are the sug- 
 gestions made by learned men, and there may be 
 some truth in them all. But they are too elaborate 
 and recondite ; the real explanation lies on the 
 surface. It is simply that, while so great a worker. 
 He disliked to have His good deeds made known. 
 St. Matthew puts this so plainly that it ought not to 
 have been overlo(3ked. After mentioning an occasion 
 when, after healing great multitudes. He charged 
 them that they should not make Him known, the 
 evangelist adds that this was in fulfilment of a 
 prophecy which said, " He shall not strive nor cry, 
 neither shall any one hear His voice in the street" 
 
112 IMAGO CIIRISTt. 
 
 It is one of the penalties of public work for God 
 that it comes to be talked about, and vulgar people 
 make a sensation of it. We are well acquainted 
 with this at the present day, when nothing is 
 allowed to remain private, and, if a man does 
 anything in the least out of the common, the 
 minutest details of his life are dragged out and 
 exposed to the public eye. But this is contrary 
 to the very genius of goodness and exposes even 
 those occupied with the holiest work to the temp- 
 tation of playing for the praise of men instead of 
 acting humbly in the eye of God. Jesus detested 
 it. He would have been hidden if He could ; and 
 it was a heavy cross to Him that the more He 
 pressed people to say nothing about Him, the more 
 widely did they spread His fame.* 
 
 Such was the heart of Christ as it is laid bare 
 in a single story. "By taking a wider sweep we 
 might have accumulated more illustrations. But 
 the clue, once seized, can be easily followed in the 
 Gospels, where the notices of how He telt in the 
 
 * There is, liowever, a shrinking from publicity which is 
 vicious : it may be mere fastidiousness or the cowardice which 
 fears responsibilit}'. And there is an enjoyment of popularity 
 which is nothing but unseldsh absorption in the triumph of a 
 p"ood cause. 
 
CHRIST AS A MAN OF FEELIXG. 313 
 
 different situations in which He was placed are far 
 more numerous than anyone whose attention has not 
 been specially directed to them would believe.* 
 
 Nor would it be difficult to trace the refining 
 influence which intercourse with Him had on His 
 disciples — how they learned to feel about things 
 as He did. There is no other influence so refilling 
 as genuine religion. Where the Gospel is faith- 
 fully preached and affectionately believed, there is 
 gradually wrought into the very features of people 
 the stamp of the Son of man. The friendship of 
 Jesus breeds the gentle heart. 
 
 Christus miiltum et vultu et nutu docuit." — Bkngel. 
 
XVII. 
 
 CHRIST AS AN INFLUENCE 
 
Matt. vii. 28. 
 
 viii. 27. 
 
 ix. 8, 26, 31, 33 
 
 xii. 23. 
 
 xiii. 54. 
 
 xxii. 22, 33. 
 Mark i. 45. 
 
 ii. I, 2, 12. 
 
 vii. 36 37. 
 
 ix. 15. 
 
 XV 5. 
 Luke ii. 47, 48. 
 
 „ iv. 15, 22. 32. 37 
 
 Matt. xiv. i. 2. 
 Mark iv. 41. 
 
 „ X. 32. 
 Luke V. 8, 26. 
 
 ,, xxiii. 45, 48. 
 John xviii. 6. 
 
 Mark i. 23-27. 
 
 ., V. 6, 7. 
 Luke vi. ii. 
 
 „ xiii. 14. 
 
 Matt. ii. 1-3. 
 
 ., iii. 13, 14. 
 
 ., iv. 19-22. 
 
 „ xxvii. 19, 55. 
 Mark i. 37. 
 
 , V. 18. 
 
 „ xii. 37. 
 Luke i. 41 
 
 , viii. 40. 
 
 „ xi. 27. 
 
 „ xxii. 61, 62. 
 
 „ xxiv. 32. 
 John vi. 68. 
 vii. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 CHRIST AS AN INFLUENCE. 
 
 IN the foregoing chapter we have seen the feelings 
 produced in the sensitive heart of Christ by the 
 persons and things He was brought into contact 
 with. In the present one we have to deal with the 
 feelings which He produced, by His presence and 
 actions, in the hearts of men. If much attention is 
 paid in the records of His life to the depth and 
 variety of the impressions which others made on 
 Him, no less surprising is the number of notices 
 they contain of the impressions which He made on 
 others. 
 
 Simeon the aged, when he held the child Jesus 
 in his arms in the Temple, prophesied that by con- 
 tact with Him the thoughts of many hearts would 
 be revealed ; and this was one of the most out- 
 standing features of His subsequent life. None who 
 came near Him could remain indifferent. They 
 might hate or they might love, they might admire 
 
3i8 IMAGO CHRIST/, 
 
 or they might scorn Him ; but in any case they 
 were compelled to show the deepest that ^vas in 
 them. In the Talmud there is a fable that King 
 Solomon wore a ring engraven with the divine 
 name, and everyone towards whom he turned the 
 inscription was forced to speak out whatever he was 
 thinking at the moment. So Jesus, by His mere 
 presence among men, brought to the surface their 
 deepest thoughts and feelings and made them dis- 
 play the best and the worst which their hearts 
 concealed. 
 
 The commonest impression which He is narrated 
 in the Gospels to have excited is Wonder. " They 
 marvelled at Him ;" "they wondered ;" " they were 
 astonished with a great astonishment " — such are 
 the phrases which recur continually in the records 
 of His life. Sometimes it was at His teaching that 
 they marvelled — at its gracefulness, originality and 
 power — or at the knowledge displayed by one 
 who had never learned. Still more noisy was their 
 wonder at His miracles. People ran together to the 
 spot where a miracle was taking place ; those who 
 had been cured spread abroad the fame of what had 
 happened to themselves; and, wherever He went, 
 there rose around Him a cloud of notoriet)\ 
 
CHRIST AS AN INFLUENCE. 319 
 
 Though this was the commonest impression made 
 on people's minds, it was far from the most valuable. 
 To Himself it was an unpleasant necessity. His 
 soul shrank from the importunities of the crowd, and 
 He gauged the depth of their shallow adulation. 
 The one advantage of it, for the sake of which He 
 submitted to the necessity, was that it brought to 
 Him, among the rest, those who really wanted Him 
 and whom He wanted — as in the case of the woman 
 who came behind Him in the crowd, when He was 
 on the way to the house of Jairus, and touched the 
 hem of His garment, that she might be healed. The 
 crowed was thronging Him, many no doubt touching 
 His very person; but they got nothing from this 
 contact. She came in dire need and trem.bling faith, 
 and, at her touch, virtue went out of Him and healed 
 her. But she would hardly have been there but for 
 the crowd : it was by the noise and excitement that 
 she was informed that He was near ; at all events 
 the crowd supplied her with her opportunity. 
 
 This may still be the one advantage which com- 
 pensates for the many drawbacks of the rumour that 
 rises round religion in some of its forms. The 
 sensation is a bell that rings into church those who 
 need Christ. The appearance of popular preachers 
 is trumpeted abroad, and crowds flock to hear them. 
 When a distinguished evangelist appears or a revival 
 
322 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 access of His prophetic inspiration, why did they 
 flee crouching before Him ? They were many, 
 while He was but one ; they were wealthy and 
 influential, while He was but a peasant. Yet there 
 was that in Him which they never thought of re- 
 sisting. They felt how awful goodness is. There 
 is a majesty in virtue indignant before which the 
 loftiest sinners cower. I have known a youth from 
 the country enter an office in the city, where the 
 daily conversation was so foul and profane that it 
 would almost have disgraced the hulks ; but a 
 month after his arrival not a man in the place dared 
 to utter an unchaste word when he was present. 
 Yet he had scarcely spoken a syllable of reproof ; 
 it was simply the dignity of manly goodness that 
 quelled conscious iniquity. 
 
 HI. 
 
 The fear exc'ted by Jesus sometimes deepened 
 into Repulsion. The fear He caused was the fear of 
 the finite in the grasp of the Infinite. But those who 
 felt themselves helpless in the hands of the Almighty 
 felt themselves at the same time exposed in the 
 sight of the All-seeing and the All-pure. 
 
 As the ignorant speak with fluency in the com- 
 pany of the ignorant, but, if introduced among the 
 learned, stammer and become afraid of their own 
 
CI/R/ST AS AN INFLUENCE. 323 
 
 voices ; or as the beggar, who is quite unconscious 
 of his rags when moving among his equals, if 
 brought into a drawing-room filled with well dressed 
 people, becomes suddenly aware of every patch on 
 his coat and every hole in his looped and windowed 
 raggedness ; so, when confronted with spotless holi- 
 ness, the human soul turns round upon itself and 
 recognises its imperfections. It was this which made 
 St. Peter, when he saw the miraculous draught of 
 fishes, put up his hands in deprecation and cry to 
 Jesus, *' Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O 
 Lord." And for the same reason the Gadarenes, 
 when they beheld the miracle which Jesus had 
 wrought in their midst, besought Him to depart out 
 of their coasts. They felt the instinctive shrinking 
 of the guilty from the holy. 
 
 In the tragedy of Faust, Margaret, who is meant 
 to represent virgin purity, cannot bear the sight of 
 Mephistopheles, though he is disguised as a knight 
 and she has no idea who he really is. She shrinks 
 from him instinctively : — 
 
 In all my life not anything 
 
 Has given my heart so sharp a sting 
 
 As that man's loathsome visage. 
 
 Christ's presence produced precisely the opposite 
 effect : in the unholy it awoke repulsion and the 
 desire to flee from Him. As He held down His 
 
324 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 head with burning shame and wrote on the ground, 
 when the sinful woman was brought to Him, her 
 accusers, at length dimly recognising what was 
 going on in His mind, grew afraid and, " being con- 
 victed in their own conscience, went out one by one, 
 beginning at the eldest, even unto the last ; and 
 Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the 
 midst." When He drew near to possessed persons, 
 His mere proximity threw them into paroxysms of 
 excitement, and they entreated Him to depart and 
 not torment them ; for merely to see one so holy 
 was a torment. 
 
 The presence of superlative goodness, if it does 
 not subdue, stirs up the wild beasts which lurk in 
 the subterranean caverns of the human heart into 
 angry opposition to itself Christ made the evil in 
 those who opposed Him show itself at its very worst. 
 Pilate, for example, only applied to the case of Jesus 
 the same principles of administration which he had 
 made use of in hundreds of other cases — the prin- 
 ciples of the self-seeker and time-server dressed in 
 the garb of justice ; but never did these principles 
 appear in all their ghastly unrighteousness till he 
 released Barabbas and handed over Jesus to the 
 executioner. The inhumanity and hollowness ot 
 Sadducee and Pharisee were never seen in their true 
 colours till the light which streamed from Jesus fell 
 
CHRIST AS AN INFLUENCE. 325 
 
 on them and exposed every spot and wrinkle of the 
 hypocrite's robe. Christ's very meekness provoked 
 them to deeper scorn of His pretensions ; His silence 
 under their accusations made them gnash their teeth 
 with baffled malice ; the castigation of His polemic 
 made them cling to their errors with more desperate 
 tenacity. 
 
 Thus are hearts hardened by the very excellence 
 of those with whom they have to deal. As Ahab, 
 when he met Elijah, hissed at him, " Hast thou 
 found me, O miine enemy ? " so the mere sense that 
 his godly mother is praying for him, or that good 
 people are planning for his spiritual welfare, may 
 excite in one who is going determinedly down the 
 broad road a diabolical scorn and rage. The con- 
 tempt with which one w^ho bears witness for God 
 is flouted by his comrades is often only an evidence 
 that they feel his presence a reproach to their own 
 evil characters, and it is a real, though undesigned, 
 tribute to his superiority. " Marvel not if the world 
 hate you ; ye know that it hated Me before it hated 
 you." 
 
 IV. 
 
 Although the presence of Jesus repelled some, it 
 exerted on others the most powerful attraction, and 
 the most characteristic feature of His character 
 
326 IMAGO CHRIST!. 
 
 was Moral Attractiveness. He repelled those who 
 were wedded to their sins and unwilling to abandon 
 them, but He attracted all who in any degree were 
 feeling after a new and better life. 
 
 Strong as the power of sin is in the soul of man, 
 it never altogether overcomes the opposite principle. 
 There is that in every man which opposes his sin 
 and protests against it. It reminds the prodigal of 
 the Father's house, from which he has wandered, 
 and makes him feel the shame of serving among the 
 swine. It warns him in solitary hours that the sin 
 to which he is attached is his worst enemy, and that 
 he will never be happy till he is separated from it. 
 
 This redeeming principle in human nature is the 
 conscience ; and without its feeling for what is holy 
 and divine the condition of man would be hopeless. 
 But it exists even in the wicked ; who cannot withhold 
 their admiration from the truly good and, though 
 following the worse, approve the better, course. 
 It makes men afraid and ashamed of their own 
 sin, even when they are most abandoned to it. It 
 may be stimulated by denunciations of sin, like those 
 of the Baptist ; but it is touched even more effect- 
 ively by the sight of exceptional purity or by the 
 compassion which pities ungodliness. This reminds 
 man of something he has lost ; it causes the sinful 
 enjoyments with which he is occupied to appear 
 
CHRIST AS AN INFLUENCE. 327 
 
 cheap and vulgar ; it makes him uneasy and dis- 
 satisfied. 
 
 Jesus naturally exerted this kind of influence in 
 the strongest degree. Wherever there existed any 
 tenderness or susceptibility towards what is high 
 and pure, it was stimulated by His presence. Con- 
 science, hearing His voice in its prison, woke up 
 and came to the windows to demand emancipation. 
 As the presence of a physician armed with a cure 
 for some virulent disease excites a sensation among 
 those afflicted with the malady, who communicate the 
 new^s of relief to one another with the swiftness of 
 a secret telegraphy, so, wherever Jesus went, the 
 heavy-laden and the aspiring heard of Him and found 
 Him. In publicans and sinners, and even in Phari- 
 sees, unaccustomed movements showed themselves : 
 Niccdemus sought Him by night ; Zacchseus 
 climbed into the sycamore tree to see Him ; the 
 woman who was a sinner stole to His feet to bathe 
 them with her tears. 
 
 Moral attractiveness is of two kinds — the passive 
 and the active. 
 
 There is a goodness which draws men by the 
 men? force of its own beauty. It is not thinking of 
 any such effect ; for it is inward and self-absorbed ; 
 its attention is concentrated on an inner vision and 
 occurjied with following a secret law. It would 
 
328 IMAGO CHRIST I, 
 
 never think of crediting itself with an influence on 
 others ; for it is not aware of its own beauty, and 
 that which sets off all its qualities is the ornament 
 of humility. This is the goodness especially of the 
 feminine virtues, and the characters which exhibit 
 it in a marked degree have always a womanly 
 element. " Such have many of us seen — some- 
 times in humble life, faithful and devoted, loyal to 
 man and full of melody in their hearts to God, their 
 life one act of praise ; some in a higher sphere, 
 living amid the pride of life, but wholly untouched 
 by its spells ; free and unensnared souls, that had 
 never been lighted up with the false lights and 
 aspirations of human life, or been fascinated by the 
 evil of the world, though sympathizing with all that 
 is good in it, and enjoying it becomingly ; who give 
 us, as far as human character now can do, an insight 
 into the realms of light, the light that comes from 
 neither sun nor moon, but from Him who is the 
 light everlasting." * 
 
 Of such characters Jesus is the head and crown. 
 His image shines. through all the centuries with the 
 beauty of holiness. This is why the eyes of men, 
 sweeping the fields of history in search of excellence, 
 always rest at last on Him as its perfect and final 
 
 * MozLEY, University Sermons, 
 
CHRIST AS AN INFLUENCE. 329 
 
 embodiment. This is why none can write of Christ 
 vvithout falling into a kind of rapture and ecstasy 
 of admiration, and even those who are bitter and 
 blustering in their opposition to everything Christian 
 grow hushed and reverent when they speak of Christ 
 Himself. No pen can fully render the impression 
 made on the reader by His life in the Gospels. It 
 is easy to make a catalogue of the qualities which 
 entered into His human character ; but the blend- 
 ing and the harmony and the perfection, the delight 
 and the subduing charm, who can express } Yet 
 all this walked the earth in the flesh, and men 
 and women saw it with their eyes ! 
 
 The moral attractiveness of the active sort influ- 
 ences in a different way. There are natures which we 
 call magnetic. People cannot help being drawn to 
 them and following where they go. Whatever such 
 natures do, they act with all their might, and others 
 are drawn into the rush and current of their course. 
 It may be an evil course, and then they are ring- 
 leaders in sin ; for the kingdom of darkness has its 
 missionaries as well as the kingdom of heaven. Like 
 other forces of human nature, this one requires to be 
 redeemed and consecrated. Then it becomes the spirit 
 of the missionary, the apostle, the religious pioneer. 
 
 Nothing in the memoirs of Jesus is more sur- 
 prising than the apparent ease with which He 
 
330 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 induced men to quit their occupations and follow 
 Him. John and James are in their ship mending 
 their nets ; but, when He calls, they instantly leave 
 the ship and nets and their father Zebedee and go 
 after Him. Matthew is at the seat of custom, and 
 that is a seat not easily left ; but no sooner is 
 he called than he forsakes all and follows Jesus. 
 Zacchseus, who had been an extortioner for a life- 
 time, was no sooner asked to receive Him into his 
 house than he began to make proposals and promises 
 of the utmost generosity. Jesus was engaged in a 
 splendid work, whose idea and results touched the 
 imagination of all who were capable of anything noble. 
 He was wholly absorbed in it ; and to see unselfish 
 devotion always awakens imitation. He was the 
 author and leader of a new movement, which grew 
 around Him, and the enthusiasm of those who 
 had joined it drew others in. The same power 
 has belonged in remarkable measure to all great 
 spiritual leaders — to St Paul, to Savonarola, to 
 Luther, to Wesley and many more ; who, filled 
 themselves with the Holy Ghost, have been able to 
 lift men above the instincts of pleasure and comfort 
 and make them willing to deny themselves for a 
 great cause. And no earnest life, in which the 
 enthusiasm of Jesus burns, fails to exercise in 
 some degree the same influence. 
 
CHRIST AS AN INFLUENCE. 331 
 
 It is one of the healthiest features of our day 
 that all thinking people are growing sensitive about 
 their influence. To many the chief dread of sin 
 arises from perceiving that they cannot sin them- 
 selves without directly or indirectly involving 
 others ; and it would be to them the greatest of 
 satisfactions to be able to believe that they are 
 doing good to those with whom they are brought 
 into contact, and not harm. 
 
 This is a feeling worthy of the solemn nature of 
 our earthly existence, and it ought certainly to be 
 one of the guiding principles of life. Yet it is not 
 without its dangers. If allowed too prominent a 
 place among our motives, it would crush the mind 
 with an intolerable weight and cause conduct to ap- 
 pear so responsible that the spring of energy would 
 be broken. It might easily betray us into living 
 so much for effect as to fall into hypocrisy. The 
 healthiest influence is unsought and unconscious. It 
 is not always when we are trying to impress others 
 that we impress them most. They elude the direct 
 efforts which we make, but they are observing us 
 when we are not thinking of it. They detect from 
 an unconscious gesture or chance word the secret 
 v/e are trying to conceal. They know quite well 
 whether our being is a palace fair within or only 
 a shabby structure with a pretentious elevation. 
 
332 IMAGO CHRIST/. 
 
 They estimate the mass and weight of our charac- 
 ter with curious accuracy; and it is this alone that 
 really tells. Our influence is the precise equivalent 
 of our human worth or worthlessness. 
 
 A man may strive for influence and miss it. But 
 let him grow within himself — in self-control, in con- 
 scientiousness, in purity and submission — and then 
 he will not miss it. Every step of inward progress 
 makes us worth more to the world and to every 
 cause with which we may be identified. The road 
 to influence is simply the highway of duty and 
 loyalty. Let a man press nearer to Christ and open 
 his nature more widely to admit the energy of 
 Christ, and, whether he knows it or not — it is 
 better perhaps if he does not know it — he will 
 certainly be growing in power for God with men, 
 and for men with God. "Abide in Me, and I in 
 you : as the branch cannot bear fruit of itself 
 except it abide in the vine, no more can ye except 
 ye abide in Me." 
 
 Finis. 
 
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