on,' cries a woman, casting a glance on him as she hurries past, 'He halts not here.' Rather more slowly, as running does not beseem them, some scholars also step past us, gesticulating rapidly. This is a MiracleWorker beyond compare,' says one. 'To me He seems more than this,' says another. 'King Messiah, King Messiah,' exclaims a ragged stripling, as he overtakes them. And at some distance from the latter, several poorly clad, horribly deformed and mutilated figures, who have withdrawn far from the hurrying crowd into the wheatfields and cry, 'Unclean, unclean!' bring up the train. These are outcasts, who in shrill tones warn the people from them, and press on with the utmost speed.

The motives of this tumult, as far as they appear, are curiosity, selfishness and enthusiasm of the vulgarest Is this the vanguard of the expected One? The impression is disappointing.

sort.

But look, there emerges behind the waving crest of the upland a marvellous company. In front walk four persons, who, while stepping forward not very slowly, have their faces and senses turned rather backwards than forwards. Next come five, the two on either side inclined with rapt attention to the middle one, regarding Him with eyes full of reverence and devotion, and at the same time in visible love pressing so closely upon Him as to leave Him scant room to move freely. Close in the wake of the five follow four others, who strive their utmost to catch as much as possible of the words of the middle one of the five; save one, carrying under his arm something like a bag, who seems to attend less to what passes without and to be buried in himself. But round about this travelling train,

which looks like a closely-twisted coil, are many others, too numerous to reckon. They run hither and thither, though carefully avoiding noise and disturbance, to find the best possible place for hearing Him, and with this desire crowd one upon another. Farther behind also are visible several women in thick veils, three and then two, carrying one one thing, another another. They converse together; but the loving looks which they direct, from time to time, to the One Who goes before them in the midst of the crowd of men, show that He is the star which they follow.

Our own eyes also are riveted by the One Who is the central and sole object of all. He is not clad in soft raiment of byssus and silk as those in kings' houses. He is not set off in flowing mantle like the Pharisees. On His head He wears a white handkerchief, fastened under the chin with a string, and hanging over the shoulders, and over the tunic, that covered His body down to feet and hands, a blue tallith with the prescribed light-blue tassels † at the four ends, so thrown over and held together that the old red-striped undergarment is scarcely seen, and the feet, shod not with shoes but with sandals, come into view only now and then. His clothing is clean and choice, but not superior and in no respect striking. And now we venture to view Him more closely, as well as we can while He is passing by.

He is a man of middle size, in whom youth has not yet given way to age. The purity and sweetness of the youth-like that of a rose, not a red but a white one-is blended in His countenance with the maturity and firmness of the man. His complexion is whiter than that of the men surrounding Him, who have

+ Numbers xv. 38.

more of the bronze complexion of their nation. His is white, and, especially beneath the white handkerchief, shows the whiter as His face is pale and without the ruddy freshness of health. The character of His face is not peculiarly Jewish, but might rather be taken as combining the Jewish and Hellenistic type a perfectly formed human countenance, that with blended grace and nobleness inspires no less reverence than love, while His eyes make those on whom they glance burn and glow, with their rays broken and softened as by tears. His mien is bent, retiring, and His movements are neither ungainly, like those of many Rabbis, nor blunt, like those of a common man, but unstudiedly noble and spontaneously gracious, like those of a King, who is himself even in a beggar's garb.

This is JESUS. Yes, this is He, just as His portrait looks upon us from the Gospel of prophets and apostles. Who has not often in his experience seen a man who seemed at first unlovely; disagreeable and repulsive rather than attractive; but when he came to know him better, the impression changed: the man's inner nobleness imprinted itself on the countenance; his eyes appear like the mirror of a soul at one with God, and his whole body is transformed into a transparent vessel that makes every impure thought impossible, the vessel of a spirit which is a stranger to everything earthly and common? So was it with Jesus. He that saw Him perceived at first no comeliness of form and no attraction of beauty. But he that came to know Him better saw united in Him the splendour of the King of heaven and King of earth: He became in his eyes more and more great and lovely, more and more worthy of love and reverence, until at last, in adoring rapture of affection, he cried out with the children of Korah: "Thou art the fair

est among the children of men,' and with John said exultingly: 'We beheld His glory, the glory as of the Only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.'

And who has not seen a sufferer, who, when he met without knowing him, by his terrified look and melancholy brooding gave the impression of one weighed down to the earth by his own guilt; but when he came to know him, and looked down into the man's abyss of sorrow, and into his soul suffering calmly, in the midst of wrath holding fast the love of God and unmurmuringly resigned to Him, then the lines of suffering of this sorrowful form appeared like a writing traced by God's finger, and the saddened features of this countenance as the morning dusk through which the sun breaks his way, and the tears of these eyes as the dew in which heaven is reflected? So was it with Jesus. He that saw Him cursorily saw a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief,' was terrified by the painful, unwonted expression of mighty inward conflicts. But he that came to know Him better, discerned that He had taken to His heart and thought the woe of His people and of all mankind, and that the fire of zeal for God's house was preying on His body-and, by the force of this self-sacrificing love, he was impelled to adoring love in return, and with converted Israel in Isaiah confessed: The chastisement of our peace was upon Him,' and exclaimed with John the Baptist: 'Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world!'

Yes, thus it happened, O Saviour, to those who gave themselves up to contemplate Thee. Now Thou art exalted above all earthly conditions and above the heaven of heavens, but yet Thy humiliation is for ever perpetuated in the Word which testifies of Thee. And just as we read with wonder how Stephen saw Thee

when his eye grew dim amid the rain of stones from his foes; how Saul saw Thee when Thou didst appear to him near Damascus and throw to the ground the raging persecutor; how John saw Thee in Patmos as the Lord of the Churches of Asia with the seven stars in Thy hand, and walking among the seven golden candlesticks; so we also read with vain longing, how Thou didst journey here below and walk through the land of Thy people on this and that side Jordan, and we are irresistibly impelled to combine in one whole the separate features of Thy portrait as prophecy sketches and historical fulfilment paints it, and to realize as living before us that sacred humanity, to which, in the depth of Thy sympathy with Thy people and the whole of mankind, Thou descendedst. With the disciples there on the mount of blessings, we hang on Thy mouth, whence issue words of life; with Simon Peter we fall down at Thy knees; with the sinful woman in Simon's house in spirit we kiss Thy feet; with the Canaanite we catch hold of the hem of Thy garment; we see Thy hand as then when, stretching it forth over Thy disciples, Thou saidst : 'Behold My mother and My brethren!' with them we look into Thy great, deep eyes lifted up to heaven. Thou wast of heavenly origin and royal blood, yet from love to us Thou becamest the poorest of the poor and a man of sorrows. O Son of God! O Son of the King! make clear in us this portrait of Thy poverty which is our wealth, this portrait of Thy suffering which is our bliss. Make it clear in us through that Spirit of remembrance and guidance into all truth' Whom Thou didst promise to Thy disciples.

We are permitted thus to pray. Paul's saying: 'Henceforth know we no man after the flesh; yea, though we have known Christ after the flesh,

yet now henceforth know we Him no more,' is not opposed to our desire. For what the Apostle would say is this: that Christian faith with its practical duties has not to conform itself to the national and peculiar fleshly life to which Christ once condescended, but to the spiritual life, raised far above all earthly and external conditions, in which He now reigns at God's right hand. But this does not preclude us from forming for ourselves a distinct and living conception of the Lord, as He appeared during His earthly sojourn. It is no doubt difficult to bring together into one single picture the features of the God-Man which are contained in the Old and New Testaments; for there ever remains in this unique, worldfamous Personality so much that is unapproachable and incomprehensible that we shall never succeed in drawing it out of the twilight of mystery, and in embodying its human side in the perfection of its visible, tangible manifestation. But yet we should and must attempt it as far as possible; the painter must do so, the historian must do so. The latter for still stronger reasons, if only it be done with reverent love, without which no becoming treatment of this most sacred of all subjects is possible.

The portrait of the Messiah is the portrait of a King. Since the Psalms of David who-a type of Him to come through deadly persecution made his way to the throne, in this portrait of Messiah the glorious reward and previous sufferings have been distinguished; or, as we put it in dogmatic terms, the states of humiliation and exaltation. The regal glory breaks through the Ecce-homoform as the sun through the bloodred clouds of morn. And the fundamental lines in the picture of the great Sufferer are affliction and poverty. He is sick and poor, and at last falls victim to an agonizing and shameful death.

It is no doubt hard for us to picture the Lord during His life here below as sick. And in fact the New Testament record everywhere presents Him to us simply as the wonder-working Healer of the sick and nowhere as Himself sick. It is nowhere said, and in itself is not probable, that during the brief period of three years, allotted to Him for His public ministry, He was subject to any special, positive sickness. But everything within and without that can cause fear and trembling in man's physical frame belonged to Him, Who 'was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin,' that as a merciful High-priest He might acquire abundant sympathy with our infirmities. There needed no judicial murder to effect His death. Even without this He would have succumbed to the sorrow which oppressed Him, to the zeal which consumed Him, to the excessive toils which wore Him away, to the griefs which pierced Him through. He was weary and faint, as only that man is who agonizes unceasingly in prayer and labours day and night, and, giving Himself no rest, devotes Himself, with all His powers of body and soul, to His calling. He was sick with love to God and mankind. He, the sinless One, had no passion but this one, which burnt like a measureless fire in the very marrow of His life, and charged His finite being with its own infinite intensity, to a degree which threatened to destroy it. Sickness has been called the sheet-lightning of death. This sheet-lightning flashed through His pure tender body in all shapes, and made Him, even before the anguish of the cross bruised Him, a dying grain of wheat. Hence says the golden passional of the Book of Isaiah: He was a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief,' and 'Truly He bore our griefs and carried our sorrows'; and it hath 'pleased the Lord to bruise Him.'

We are accustomed to pass lightly over such words, and to have before our eyes false pictures which give Him the outward form of an all-conquering hero; whereas He humbled Himself to such a point that He could say: 'I am a worm, and no man'; and according to those prophecies He must suffer both in sympathy in the fullest sense with every suffering of man, and also as a sacrifice. The ancient synagogue understood those prophecies better. It knows a suffering Messiah, and says of Him that iron rings shall be laid on His neck until He is utterly crushed; that God will load Him with burdensome service and atoning sufferings like millstones; and that His body will waste away in sorrow and sighing; and to the question: By what is the Messiah to be known? Elia gives to Rabbi Joshua, son of Levi, the answer: 'He sits at the gate of Rome (the empire that enslaved God's people) among the poor, the sick, binding up and again binding up wound upon wound.'

Old Testament type and prophecy also describe the Coming One as poor. The very same who says in Psalm xl. : 'Lo, I come: in the volume of the book it is written of Me,' says also : 'I am poor and needy; yet the Lord, thinketh upon Me.' And the King, before whom Sion, the daughter of Jerusalem, is to rejoice, in Zech. ix. 9, is called on the one hand, 'just, and having salvation;' on the other, 'lowly, and riding upon an ass.' On an ass, not on a war-steed! 'You believe,' once said the Persian King Sapor mockingly to the Jewish sage Samuel, 'the Messiah will come upon an ass; I will gladly give Him a dappled steed from my stable for His use.' Jewish learning felt the self-humiliation implied in this riding on an ass, for an old Midrash says, it will be sport for unbelievers in Israel. Also when in Isaiah liii. 9 it is said that, having died a death of agony, in