decree and issued a proclamation. When Christ came into the city, not secretly, but riding royally, making a sensation through the whole body of the people, running in the face of their decree and proclamation, it was obvious that they must do something; they must either lay hold of him or confess that they dared not. Thus this course of conduct commended itself to our blessed Lord for a twofold advantage::-as giving the citizens one last and best opportunity of repentance and salvation; or, if that failed, as it did, rendering his death inevitable.

Having thus looked all round, we may come to the supper of Bethany. When our Lord arrived from Jericho, Simon the leper, grateful for his cure, opened his house to receive him, and provided a great entertainment. Besides Jesus Christ and his disciples, Lazarus was there, whose resurrection was yet fresh in the memory of the people. A great company was invited, and came, not only to see Christ, but to see a man who had been dead and was raised again. Martha was there, busy in showing her love by waiting upon the Lord in her own way. Mary took an opportunity of withdrawing to bring in this alabaster box of ointment, which I do not suppose she had bought on purpose, for Christ says that she had kept it, and Judas does not complain that she had lavished the money in buying it, but that she had not sold it and given the money to the poor. It was therefore probably a relic saved from the funeral rites of Lazarus, intended to be kept sacred among those things which human love consecrates to the dear remembrance of its departed objects. With this she returned into the room, and, standing behind our Lord as he reclined at table, broke it and poured its contents upon his head-says one evangelist, upon his feet says another, and, reconciling both, we may suppose upon his whole body. The house was filled with the perfume that was destined to fill the world. This was the time; and as the next thing we read of is Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem, which took place on the first day of the week, since called Palm Sunday, we may safely pronounce that this incident occurred, not on the night before, which would have been the Jewish Sabbath evening, but on the Friday, exactly one week before our blessed Redeemer was actually laid in the tomb. There is, therefore, a peculiar significance and beauty in our Lord's explanation, " She did it for my burial."

A word or two as to the person, that is to say, Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus-a person whom I do not hesitate to characterise as the most illustrious example of female piety on record in the Word of God. Other persons loved Christ; but there was something about her love to him very peculiar, and as admirable as it was peculiar, It seems to have lain so deep es to be almost inscrutable. The more it is contemplated, the more it excites wonder, and, I had almost written, the less it is understood. It displayed itself, too, in ways that to others seemed most extraordinary, absurd, and even blameworthy. No one else ever thought of doing what she did, and if they had thought of it, they would have rejected the thought. But she had no notion whatever of taking into account what other persons might say; I do not know whether she herself could have always assigned a reason for what she did; her love seems to have moved instinctively, and to have done just that which first came into her mind, or which first came to hand, and yet it ever did that which was right. Thus, for instance, when Christ came to their house at Bethany, Martha was directly thrown into a fervour of excitement. How to entertain so illustrious a guest filled her with a thousand cares, and kept her tongue, her feet, her hands, continually on the move, until she was literally overwhelmed and oppressed with the weight of her own self-imposed anxieties, all the fruit of a true and ardent love to Christ. Mary, on the

contrary, without troubling herself in the least about household affairs, lost in the contemplation of his friendship, thinking of nothing but how to drink in his Divine instructions, treated him as if he wanted neither meat nor drink, nor any other entertainment but a willing ear and a loving heart. Though she would have found wings to bring him food or drink, if the question of hunger or thirst had occurred to her mind, yet these lie far beneath the region of her high thoughts and holy emotions. She gave the Saviour the homage he most wanted, the entertainment he most loved-a place in her inmost soul, and an undivided attention that would not let slip a single word of that Divine conversation that proceeded from his lips. All this seemed to her sister Martha so strange, so unaccountable, so little praiseworthy, that at last she broke into the presence of Christ, and, seeming to involve him in the reproach, cried out, 'Master, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone?" And yet the conduct complained of was perfectly natural to one whose views of Christ's character were so spiritual, so exalted above all carnal considerations, that she forgot for the time being that he had a body to feed, or that he needed anything beyond a listener and a disciple.

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Thus, again, in the action now under our consideration, we have an instance of the strange and unaccountable operation of her love to Christ, strange and unaccountable, that is, to those who more immediately surrounded her. What could put it into her mind, none of them could possibly divine; what to make of it, none of them knew. When they found themselves enveloped in a perfume that surpassed all the incense of the temple, and saw that it proceeded from the breaking of a costly vessel over his person, by a quiet and unobtrusive worshipper, who perhaps had hardly been seen or noticed until now, they were all filled with amazement, not unmixed with indignation. Some nostrils were as perverted as the minds to which they belonged. Avarice smelt waste. False charity grew sentimental over the poor. Spurious spiritualism peeped out through the thick folds of carnal prejudice, and thought such an act of external homage must be contrary to the mind of a Master who had shown that he never desired outward honour. Led on by few officious tongues, all misunderstood, all blamed. The shrinking woman was likely to be overwhelmed with reproaches, till the only other person who understood the action besides herself calmly interposed in her vindication, and put an end to the strife of words-"Why trouble ye the woman; she hath wrought a good work. She did it for my burial." Happy Mary! thou hast pleased the Master; what is the world to thee? Still sit at his feet who understands the flame he has inspired, and loves to be enveloped in its perfume!

If we go on to inquire into her sentiments and motives, it is obvious that her chief intention was to manifest her love. Now, although it is true that there was a character in her love that rose far above the common level,—there was, so to speak, a kind of boundlessness about it that baffles every attempt to express it in words; yet there are one or two things that further illustrate it in this incident. For instance, hers was a love to Christ that would give him anything and everything; the most precious is not too precious to be poured out in his honour. The odour of her ointment, the clamour of these indignant enemies to all waste, speak for themselves. Waste! she might have thought, Waste! If I had had anything greater, anything more costly still, it should have been all his! Oh, that we had a love like hers! It would command our dearest treasures. What would we not give him? what would we not sacrifice for him? If everything that we love and esteem, value and honour, could be bound up in one vessel, we would break it over his head and invest him with its perfume! Self-denial! we should almost deny the existence of such a

feeling; there could be no more self-denial than there can be waste. To constitute self-denial there must be an inclination after the thing that is given up. But if the heart goes to Christ undivided, everything goes with it; and to pour out all at his feet is all the soul desires, if he but condescend to approve and accept it.

Again, hers was a love that would stoop to the meanest offices. Among the ancients, anointing was properly the work of a servile ministry. In their writings the duty is always assigned to slaves. And yet, who is there that even thinks that Mary submitted herself to an unworthy debasement? Is not this very humility one of the greatest ornaments of her service? The great⚫ness and glory of the Master dignified it. Nothing, in her opinion, could be mean that was done for Christ. Lowest at the feet of Jesus is the ambition of every true disciple. The richer the gift and the more humble the service, the more noble and acceptable the sacrifice.

But if we may venture to analyse her motives yet further, we might say she meant this action to be a testimony of her faith, her faith in him as the Messiah. It is impossible not to see royalty imputed to him in her very action. This oil, that smelt of waste to others, was to her odoriferous of a kingdom. There was nothing of this in the homage paid to him by others. He might have been a great man,—a great prophet worthy to recline at the head of the table, worthy of all Martha's diligent attention. Mary alone pours out upon him the symbol of his true and proper office. She alone shows how heartily she had embraced him as the King of saints. She pours out her ointment upon his whole person-she bows at his feet-she employs her hair (a woman's glory), all loosened and dishevelled, in wiping his feet; full of affection, full of humility; regardless of all the world but him; deaf, or silent to every reproach; absorbed and lost to self, as if her whole being and consciousness were wrapt up in him alone. She consecrates herself and all she has to the glory of his kingdom, and confesses, more than ten thousand words could do, that to her "Christ is all in all."

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This particular inquiry into her motives and sentiments naturally runs into and blends itself with another subject, namely, the construction which our Lord himself puts upon her conduct. He not only says, virtually, "She has done right," but he says, She has come beforehand to anoint my body for the burial." Had Mary, then, the death and burial of Christ in view? There are many interpreters who deny it, alleging that it is not unfrequent in Hebrew for any one to be said to do a thing for this or that end, which, however, is not really intended by him, only it is consequent upon his act. Thus speaks Grotius. Another renders :-" She has suited the action as aptly to my situation as if she had done it by Divine impulse." So Maldonatus. A third paraphrases thus:-" You will not object to this ointment being expended on a corpse. Suppose this really the case, since my burial is close at hand." This is Kuinoel. And a fourth :-" Do not regard this ointment as wasted, but well bestowed; for this woman, though little aware of it, hath, as it were, presaged my death as shortly to happen, and has, in a measure, anticipated the funeral solemnities." Thus far Tittman. I quote these authors as those from whose principles of criticism and interpretation I generally dissent. Still I do not object to any of their views if they commend themselves to any minds as agreeable to the mind of the Spirit, only there are one or two remarks deserving of attention on the other side.

As, first, that Mary seems to have been more free from the common errors with respect to the Messiah than even the apostles themselves. Second, that she had cultivated more than most the personal fellowship and converse of the

Saviour; nor would it be wonderful that such intimate communion as hers had taught her to look far deeper into his character and design; not to add, that women have a far quicker insight into the secret troubles and afflictions of others than men. Thirdly, the words of Christ, literally interpreted, impute to her the knowledge of his approaching death and burial. On what ground, then, is it necessary to suppose her ignorant of them? Had not Christ plainly predicted them? True the other disciples did not understand, or would not believe. But it was their fault. Why must we impute that fault to Mary? How often have the weak and feeble outdone the strong in the things of Christ? Do we not know that in other respects Mary, and the rest of the women, put the very apostles to shame ? Do we not know that they were last at the cross, and earliest at the tomb? On these grounds, therefore, we conclude that there is nothing improbable in the supposition that Mary knew what she was doing; that it was not without grief that she stood behind him, with her hair all loosened and flowing in token of sorrow, and poured out this funeral anointing, with the painful consciousness that his prophecy would soon be fulfilled, and the Son of Man delivered into the hands of sinners to be crucified and buried before the glory of his expected kingdom could dawn upon their eyes!

One more remark to show how the presence of Christ draws out and detects the characters of men. Judas, angry and indignant at the act, yet more angry and indignant at its acceptance, went out from that feast a ripened traitor. The money that had missed his bag goads him to madness. Away he hastens to the chief priests. "What will ye give that I may deliver him to you?" From that time his treason began to be active; from that time he sought opportunity to betray him. If men are not made better by the presence of Christ, and by the sight of his worship, they are made worse. Like Mary's ointment, the Gospel and the ordinances of the Gospel are either a savour of life into life or of death unto death. Which shall it be? Go, rebel, traitor, into Christ's presence: but if you go out a rebel, beware! Remember Judas!

K.

IF THE GOSPEL BE A FABRICATION-WHAT THEN?

BY THE REV. HUGH STOWELL BROWN.

By the term Gospel I do not here mean the four books which bear this name, so much as the alleged facts recorded in those books. It is not the genuineness of the writings, but rather the authenticity of the things written, that I intend to discuss. This premised, if the Gospel be a fabrication, then,

1. By whom was it fabricated?

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It could not be fabricated by a professor of Christianity; not because fessors of Christianity are incapable of acting fraudulently, but because, by the supposition, there could be no professors of Christianity at the time. There could be no professors of Christianity until men had heard of a real or imaginary Christ, that is, until men had heard the Gospel; all the alleged facts of Christ's history, or most of them, must have been stated and promulged prior to the existence of Christian profession; Christian profession is purely the result of the Gospel; it could not originate that from which it sprang; it could not be both cause and effect of the forgery which is supposed.

Since the perpetrator of this fraud could not be a Christian, he must, I think, have been either a Jew, a Gentile, a Samaritan, or a proselyte; the religious principles of all men who lived at the time of the Gospel's first appearance being, I believe, represented by these four names. Well, then, was the fabricator a Jew? Then how comes it to pass that he has introduced into his fiction so many passages which indicate respect and affection for the dwellers in Samaria and all the heathen nations of the world? It is well known that the Jews were most bigoted and exclusive, that they despised and hated all other peoples, and believed that the world at large was to have no part in the kingdom of Christ and of God. And, I ask, is it at all likely that a Jew, sitting down to write a fictitious Gospel, should represent Christ as having been well received by the Samaritans; or that he should invent the parable of the Good Samaritan, which casts the deepest reproach upon his own nation? Again, this Jewish impostor deliberately pens such sentences as these "The kingdom of God shall be taken from you (the Jews) and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof." "They shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven; but the children of the kingdom shall be cast into outer darkness, there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth." Such statements are utterly inconsistent with the supposition that the Gospel was fabricated by a Jew. How then stands the case if we suppose the fabricator to have been a Gentile? Just as badly. I shall not now press the question, how could a Gentile have received so much moral and religious enlightenment as the author or authors of the Gospel must have possessed? Nor shall I stay to inquire, how this Gentile could become such a profound master of the Old Testament Scriptures as to quote them in the manner in which they are quoted in the Gospel. But I confine myself to this one point, the spirit in which this Gentile forger has treated the Jews. He has represented Christ as charging his disciples on their first mission not to go into the way of the Gentiles, but to care solely for the lost sheep of the house of Israel. He has represented Christ as weeping over Jerusalem; would any Gentile be likely to fabricate that pathetic cry, Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thee;" or would he inflict upon himself this blow, rebuking worldly cares by saying, "After all these things do the Gentiles seek"? Well, perhaps the Gospel was forged by a Samaritan. Do you think so? Would a Samaritan put these words into Christ's mouth, when addressing Samaritans : "Ye worship ye know not what; we know what we worship, for salvation is of the Jews"? Or would this Samaritan be likely to insert in the charge to the disciples this clause: "Into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not "? Consider also that the Psalms and the prophets are quoted in the Gospel; but these portions of Scripture the Samaritan did not accept as of Divine authority. One other alternative remains; the Gospel might be forged by a proselyte. This, however, is disposed of by these words, addressed to the Pharisees: "Ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte; and when he is made,’ye make him twofold more the child of hell than yourselves."

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Thus it appears to me to be a difficulty, amounting almost to an impossibility, to find the man whose religious principles or political prejudices would produce, such a forgery as the Gospel. If you take the Gospel to be a narrative of facts then it might have been written by any one-Jew, Gentile, Samaritan, or proselyte-who had witnessed the facts, and become the disciple of a real historic Christ. But take away the historic Christ, regard the Gospel as a fable, and then where are you to find the man who was likely to cast his fable in such a mould as this? From the difficulty, not to say the impossibility, of discovering

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