JESUS IN GETHSEMANE.

The next verses in order read thus: "And he came out, and went, as he was wont, to the Mount of Olives; and his disciples also followed him. And when he was at the place, he said unto them, Pray, that ye enter not into temptation."

We have a topographical agreement between the Evangelists, in regard to the place of Christ's suffering, which is both curious and interesting, as showing that they made no mistakes, even in unimportant matters of locality. The Mount of Olives, it is well known, was a hill of considerable height, on the east of Jerusalem and separated from it by the valley of Jehoshaphat, through which flowed the brook Kedron. This elevation derived its name from the luxuriant growth of olive trees, which covered it to its very summit. Now we notice in the verses above, that Luke spoke of Christ and his disciples coming to some place, whose name is not given, but which must have been on or near the Mount of Olives. Matthew and Mark both tell us that Christ, on the memorable night of his betrayal, went with his disciples to this mountain, and that they "came to a place called Gethsemane." We have now the name of the place, but still we do not know what sort of a place it was. John however supplies the needed information; "He went forth with his disciples over the brook Kedron, where was a garden." We thus learn that a garden was the spot chosen by our precious Redeemer, for his conflict with the powers of darkness. As the first Adam sinned and fell in a garden, may not the agony of the second Adam in this other garden have been specially intended to atone for original sin, the natural depravity of our natures, while the suffering on the cross was to atone for our actual transgressions? His mysterious struggle in Gethsemane with the invisible spirits of hell, would then seem to purchase for the child of God, strength for secret wrestling with those dark and malignant passions and appetites, which he has inherited from his great progenitor. And his dreadful anguish on the cross in the broad face of day, in the presence of a multitude of beholders, may have gained for the believer, ability to overcome open temptation in his intercourse with a sinful world. However, the object of our attention just now is the substantial agreement of the Evangelists in regard to the place of the betrayal, without their employing the same words to designate it. The first three mention the walk towards the Mount of Olives. John, on the other hand, says nothing about this mountain; but tells us of their crossing the brook Kedron; which perfectly harmonizes with the other narratives, because the mountain could not be reached from Jerusalem without crossing the brook. Again, we notice that Luke mentions a particular place visited, Matthew and Mark tell its name, and John what it was.

8. The omitting by some of the witnesses and supplying by others, in such a manner as to make the whole intelligible, ought to impress us most forcibly with the honesty and truthfulness of them all.

But the verses above present another point worthy of consideration. We learn from Matthew and Mark that Judas left our Saviour and his disciples eating the passover, and went straight to the chief priests and elders. It was then night; how did he know where to find his victim when he returned? Matthew and Mark give us no hint whatever upon the subject. Luke tells us that Christ "went, as he was wont, to the Mount of Olives." That is better, but still not quite satisfactory. It designates no particular place, where Judas might expect his much injured Master. John, however, is very explicit. "And Judas also, which betrayed him, knew the place, for Jesus often resorted thither with his disciples."

9. And thus we find one witness supplementing a deficiency in the testimony of the rest, and giving a satisfactory answer to a very natural question, which might have arisen after hearing their evidence. And yet John does this in such an off-hand manner, that it is impossible to suspect him of being conscious of the vacuum, which he was filling up.

Before closing this part of the subject, it may be well to remove a difficulty in the minds of some. Why was it necessary to hire a traitor at all? Since Christ so often taught in the temple, and openly everywhere, why not arrest him in public? Why employ a villain to track him in the darkness of the night, to some secluded spot, away from the busy haunts of men? By going a little back in the narrative, all difficulty will be removed. Matthew and Mark tell us that the chief priests and elders sought to kill Jesus, "but they said, not on the feast-day, lest there be an uproar among the people." And Luke tells us in like manner, that these malicious wretches "feared the people." Hence they sought opportunity to slay him in private. To accomplish his arrest, " they had given a commandment, that if any man knew where he were, he should show it, that they might take him." John xi. 57. Failing of procuring from any one such information as would enable them to make a secret arrest, they gladly accepted of Judas's proffered services as a traitor. But they exacted from him the promise to betray Christ "in the absence of the multitude." It would seem, too, that they were afraid to attempt to take Christ in the city, even at night, thinking probably that his disciples would stir up a tumult, and have him rescued. The great thing with them, then, was to lay hands upon him at night, beyond the walls of Jerusalem. Their hope of accomplishing this object was strengthened by their knowledge of Christ's habit of retiring into the country to pray. For

"Cold mountains and the midnight air,
Witnessed the fervour of his prayer."

And it would seem from John, that he often visited Gethsemane at night, for purposes of devotion. We now see how admirably fitted Judas was to carry out the hellish designs of the Jews. Being a disciple, he would excite no suspicion of a spy by his presence, and he could watch every movement of his Master, and steal off to tell the chief priests and elders, when he was going out of Jerusalem by night, attended only by his eleven disciples.

10. The hiring of Judas, it will thus be seen, constitutes an argument for the credibility of the Gospels. It is a fact referred to by all, and explained by none; and which can only be understood by a careful collation of their joint testimony.

The next verses (41st and 42d) are in these words: "And he was withdrawn from them about a stone's cast, and kneeled down and prayed, saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me; nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done."

By examining the parallel passages in Matthew and Mark, we ascertain that Christ took with him Peter, and James, and John, apart from the other eight disciples. We also ascertain that his withdrawal "about a stone's cast from them," refers to his separation from the three disciples, and not from the eight, who must have been at a still greater distance from him. Peter, and James, and John were honoured on two other occasions in the same sj3ecial manner as on this. They alone of the twelve disciples were permitted to witness the raising of Jairus's daughter, and the transfiguration of our blessed Redeemer. We know no reason- why Luke omits to mention the selection of the three disciples to attend their Master in his agony in the garden; and the omission is the more remarkable in so circumstantial a writer, who too had promised, at the very beginning of his narrative, " to write in order." We know, however, good reasons why Matthew and Mark did not omit to mention this selection. Matthew was one of the eight not distinguished by this mark of favour, and of course he would not be likely to forget the occasion. It is a strong proof of his integrity as a witness, that he adverts to a slight upon himself with so much candour and simplicity. And as to Mark, it is plain that he could not pass over an occurrence which he had doubtless heard Peter speak of so often, and which, being of such peculiar interest to his guide and preceptor, would almost appear personal to himself.

11. We thus have fulfilled one of the tests of the credibility of evidence, viz. the relation by some of the witnesses, of a fact in which they had a personal interest, and the omission of it by others who had no such interest.

But to this it may be objected, that John was one of the three honoured by our Saviour at Gethsemane, and that he makes no allusion to it whatever. To this we answer, neither does he mention the other two occasions in which he enjoyed the gracious preference of his Master. His complete silence in reference to these tokens of approbation may have been due to his modesty. Or we may find an explanation in the scope and design of his Gospel, which, as we have seen, was to record the private conversations, rather than the public speeches of our Saviour — the doctrines taught, rather than the deeds performed by him. But whatever the motive for silence may have been, here is the fact of one witness (Matthew) giving the details of a circumstance to his own disparagement, and of another witness (John) suppressing three which redounded to his honour.

12. Would not this honesty on the part of one, and absence of self-seeking on the part of the other, convince any court that it was dealing with true and reliable men?

But there is another point of greater importance in this connection, which deserves our consideration. John says not one word about the agony in the garden, nor about the mocking and buffeting in the palace of the high-priest, nor yet about the fearful anguish on the cross, which found utterance in the cry, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me!" Why is John silent in regard to these momentous occurrences? The answer is to be found in the character of the witness. The writings of John, and the testimony of the early Fathers of the Church, show him to have been a man of the nicest and tenderest sensibilities, full of sympathy with the sufferings of others, burning with love to his fellow-creatures, and ardently attached to the Master who loved him so well. How could a man with such a temperament, and such a disposition, dwell upon the blood} 7 sweat in the garden, the cruel scenes in the house of Caiaphas, and the hiding of the Father's face upon Calvary? no! he could not have written upon these subjects without doing violence to his feelings, violence to his nature, and violence to his loving heart. A record from him of these dreadful things would be utterly inconsistent with all that we know of his writings, preaching, conversation and life. It was sufficient for him to tell us of the essential, glorious truths, that " Jesus Christ was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification." And so we have, in the very omissions of John, the strongest possible proof of the credibility of his narrative. The numerous books of travels in Europe furnish a happy illustration of the point we are attempting to make. One writer abounds in statistics; another describes works of modern art; a third, the monuments of antiquity still existing, or the ruins that are left of them; a fourth, the geological formations and natural scenery of the country through which he passed. And when we have read the book of one of these travellers, we will have no difficulty in recognizing in a second work from him, not only the same style and manner, the same peculiarities of expression, but also attention to the same class of facts. These all show the idiosyncrasy of the man, the particular bent of his mind, and his way of looking at things. And unless the man undergo an entire change in his own character, the characteristics of his writings will be unaltered. And in fact, we find that the earliest and latest productions, even of those writers who have lived long, and written at long intervals apart, bear the same distinctive peculiarities.

If we were shown a book of travels, claiming to be from the pen of the great traveller and physical geographer, Yon Humboldt, but which, upon examination, proved to be full of maudlin sentiment and romantic legends concerning the places visited, we would at once pronounce the book to be spurious. We know that Humboldt does not deal in such stuff as this book contains, and therefore it is not his. But if, on the other hand, the book was replete with just that class of facts which we know receives the attention of the illustrious German, then we would receive it as his production, though we had never heard of it before. Now apply this test to John's narrative. We find it containing just those things we would expect it to contain, and suppressing just those things we would expect it to suppress.

13. The authenticity of John's Gospel is thus established, and its establishment by internal evidence is a virtual demonstration of its credibility.

Did the design of our argument permit, we would love to dwell upon the submissive, uncomplaining prayer of the Man of Sorrow, "Not my will, but thine be done." It may be permitted to us however to say, that if the second Person of the adorable Trinity, the Creator, submitted to mocking, buffeting, and a death of shame at the hands of his own creatures, in order that the will of the Father might be fulfilled, surely it becomes the child of God to bow with equal submission to all trials, afflictions, and bereavements sent upon him by the glorious three in one, Father, Redeemer, and Sanctifier.

The prayer of Christ is given in nearly the same words by the first three Evangelists, but is left out by John, since he does not allude at all to the agony in the garden. But John mentions the prayer of our Saviour on another occasion, which is substantially the same as that in Gethsemane. "Now is my soul troubled: and what shall I say? Father, deliver me from this hour." John xii. 27. Here is the same troubled soul, the same shrinking back from expected suffering, the same appeal to the Father for help, the same recognition of a duty to perform. The prayer, as recorded by John, was uttered some time before the feast of the passover, and it thus appears that the touching language in the garden was not then, for the first time, upon the lips of the precious sufferer. It may have been repeated thousands upon thousands of times. How little do we understand the sufferings of our blessed Redeemer. God has, in much mercy, hid the future from us. Who, in the morning of his days, would not be appalled with horror if the veil were lifted up, and he were permitted to gaze upon the dreadful scenes through which he had to pass in after life? Now standing by the pale corpse of a loved mother, then hanging over the bed of a dying child; one while writhing under the sharp arrows of envy, malice, and detraction; at another, convulsed with bodily pain or stupefied by some paralyzing disease. But thanks to our gracious Father, the future has been revealed to but one man of our race. "With him, the terrible conflict in Gethsemane was an ever present reality, from the moment that he could lisp his mother's name in Nazareth, till he cried, "It is finished!" upon Calvary. Well might it be said of him, that he was "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." But we quoted the above passage in John, not with the design of moralizing, but for the purpose of showing the beautiful consistency of the gospel narratives. The prayer in Gethsemane is a very remarkable one; it has no parallel in any language; nothing like it was ever uttered before by any human being. Now, suppose that three witnesses swore that a certain man, on some occasion, used an expression so unusual as to attract the attention of the court, and even to excite their doubts as to its reality; but suppose that a third witness, being called upon to testify in regard to a totally different matter, put this identical expression in the mouth of the same individual, would not the court be satisfied by this undesigned coincidence, that the man had really used the expression as stated by the first witness, and that it was a habitual one with him?

14. The case supposed is entirely parallel with that under consideration. Three of the Evangelists record the most wonderful prayer ever uttered, and which, but for our familiarity with it from childhood, would excite our most profound astonishment; the fourth Evangelist, writing upon another subject, and with reference to another occasion, gives in substance the very same prayer.

But in the case contemplated, the court would be still better satisfied if the fourth witness, without aiming to explain how the man acquired such an unusual phrase, let fall incidentally some hints from which the court itself could gather how he acquired it. Now, this is exactly what John has done. He does not give us the prayer in Gethsemane, neither has he said anything directly in explanation of it; but he records here and there in his narrative certain sayings of Jesus, which show the very spirit that dictated it. He tells us of Christ using these remarkable words, early in his ministry, "I came down from Heaven not to do my own will, but the will of him that sent me." Blessed be God, he did not forget the object of his mission, when he lay stretched in anguish upon the ground beyond the brook Kedron. Again, we hear him saying, " The Father hath not left me alone, for I do always the things that please him." John has not told us, but the other Evangelists have, how he sought to please that Father even on

"That dark and doleful night
When powers of earth and hell arose."

Again, we hear him saying, "But I honour my Father and ye do dishonour me. And I seek not my own glory." And this desire to honour the Father, and this disregard of self, triumphed in his prayer, over the natural shrinking of the man from suffering and death. And when he set his face to go up to Jerusalem, knowing all things that would befall him there, he said: "But that the world may know that I love the Father: and as the Father gave me commandment, even so I do." Now, can there be nicer harmony than is exhibited in the Gospels, touching the wonderful scene in the garden? Three of the writers record a prayer, breathing the most perfect submission to the will of the Father: the fourth does not make any allusion to the prayer, but relates many expressions of Christ made on different occasions and at wide intervals apart — all professing the most perfect subordination to the wishes and commands of his Father. And thus the Evangelist, who is silent in regard to the language of resignation in Gethsemane, tells us far more explicitly, more fully and more frequently than the other three Evangelists, of the habitual subserviency of the Son to the Father. And so John, without giving the prayer, gives the most complete explanation of it, by showing the spirit which prompted it.

15. Now, suppose that three witnesses testified to a will in which A left a legacy to B. This is, of course, sufficient to establish the validity of B's claim to the legacy. But suppose that the character of these witnesses has been impugned, and that while the question was in abeyance, a different trial came on, in no way connected with the preceding. And suppose that another witness, in the new case, mentioned incidentally in his testimony, certain ardent expressions of attachment on the part of A towards B. Would not this incidental evidence satisfy any reasonable jury, that A had really left the legacy in dispute to his cherished friend B? They would be satisfied of this fact, because they now understand the spirit which prompted the gift. The case under consideration is exactly like the one supposed. Three witnesses depose to a certain occurrence in Gethsemane. Their character is impugned, and the occurrence discredited: but a fourth witness, testifying about a different thing altogether, lets drop undesignedly certain expressions, which show us exactly how the occurrence was brought about. We say undesignedly, for it is preposterous to suppose that when John wrote the sayings of Christ, which we have quoted, he did it in order to explain the prayer in the garden. These sayings come in too naturally in the connection in which they are found; they harmonize too well with the context, to admit the wild conjecture that they have been thrust in, with the design of throwing light upon another matter.

Luke xxii. 43, is in these words: "And there appeared unto him an angel from heaven, strengthening him."

This angelic visitation is not mentioned by the other Evangelists. How shall we account for so singular an omission? We must again seek an explanation in the character of the witness. It is a remarkable fact, that Luke tells us more of the agency of angels, than does Matthew, Mark, or John. Thus he alone mentions the visit of Gabriel to Zacharias, announcing the birth of John the Baptist; and to Mary, announcing the birth of Christ; and the visit of the angel to the shepherds, when Jesus was born in Bethlehem; and of the heavenly host that sang, " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, and good will to men." In the Acts of the Apostles, written by him, there are no less than thirteen allusions to angels. The ministry of angels seems then to have been a favourite subject with Luke; and it would have been unnatural and wholly out of character for him to have failed to notice the strengthening of Christ by one of these messengers of light. We account for the proneness of Luke to speak of these mysterious beings from another world, by the nature of his profession, and his intimacy with Paul. Surely, the pious physician, who stands so often in the dark hour of night by the dying bed, watching the glazing eye, the failing pulse, and the waning life, must, of all men, be most likely to think of invisible spirits hovering near, to convey the released soul to the God who made it. Again, not only was Luke the constant companion of Paul in his travels, but it is highly probable that he was also the kinsman of the great Apostle to the Gentiles. (See Rom. xvi. 21.) And it is well known that almost all the information that we have about the nature and offices of angels, is derived from the writings of Paul. (See Heb. chap, i., &c.) And in addition to his explicit instruction on these points, there are in his epistles some twenty-four or twenty-five allusions to these heralds of the Most High. But however we account for the marked characteristic in Luke as a writer, of the existence of that characteristic there can be no doubt. And so, in recording an incident passed over by the other witnesses, he has preserved his own individuality.

16. "We have seen that it is the preservation of individuality in a witness which gives the greatest weight to his testimony.

We have, in the 44th verse, another circumstance recorded by Luke alone. This verse reads thus: "And being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground."

So remarkable a phenomenon as a bloody sweat would be more likely to attract the attention of a physician than any one else. It was more natural then for Luke, than for the other Evangelists, to record this singular occurrence. Matthew and Mark may not have been aware how unnatural it was; or taking the opposite view, they may not have known that the medical books contained any similar cases, and might therefore fear that their statements would be discredited. Luke, however, from his knowledge of physiology, would most likely be aware that such a sweat, though unusual, was not unprecedented. Aristotle, who was born 384 B. C, makes mention of bloody sweats. So does Diodorus Siculus, who wrote his history a little before the birth of Christ. It is highly probable that Luke was familiar with these renowned authors. His style and composition prove him to have been a scholar; and it is not at all likely that he was unacquainted with the most celebrated writings existing in his age. It would be indeed strange, if an educated man like Luke were ignorant of productions so highly esteemed by his contemporaries. It is not strange that uneducated men, like Matthew and Mark, knew nothing about them. The bloody sweat has been observed occasionally since the Christian era. Galen, who wrote less than two centuries after Christ, says: "Cases sometimes happen, in which, through mental pressure, the pores may be so dilated, that the blood will issue through them; so that there may be a bloody sweat." The biographer of Pope Sextus V. alludes to this phenomenon. So does Sir John Chardin, in his history of Persia. Thuanus also mentions the case of an Italian who was affected with a bloody sweat. And God has so ordained it, to silence the cavils of infidelity, that Voltaire himself, in his life of Charles IX., tells us that the blood oozed out of every pore of that most guilty and most unhappy monarch. In every case recorded, the affection has been the result of great mental emotion. This singular visitation upon Charles IX. has been attributed most generally to his remorse for the massacre on St. Bartholomew's day. We see, then, that the bloody sweat has not happened so often as not to be regarded as a notable phenomenon by an intelligent physician like Luke; and yet not so seldom as for him to be afraid of being discredited for the mention of it.

Now we think that it would be very difficult to find a more sure mark of the credibility of evidence, than is afforded by Luke alone alluding to the bloody sweat in Gethsemane. If Matthew and Mark had mentioned it, and Luke failed to do so, scepticism would have raised an objection which it would have been impossible to answer. But as it is, the phenomenon has been recorded by the very man whom we would have pronounced, a priori, the suitable person to make it.

17. In courts of justice, the testimony of a witness carries more weight with it, when perfectly consistent with the known character of the man, when perfectly in harmony with his known habits of observation and his profession in life. Should not the same force accompany the evidence of Luke, which so completely satisfies the foregoing conditions? If a physician were called upon to testify in regard to an affray in which a dangerous stab was inflicted, the court would expect from him a description of the wound, and of the symptoms of the patient. Other witnesses would be simply required to give information about the blow, and the causes that led to it, without noticing the condition of the wounded man. This is exactly what Matthew and Mark have done, while Luke, with professional accuracy, has described the condition of the illustrious Sufferer.

The 44th verse furnishes another point, to which we attach no little importance. Matthew tells us, that Jesus " fell on his face, and prayed;" Mark, that he "fell on the ground, and prayed." Luke, however, in the 41st verse, says he "kneeled down, and prayed." Now we observe, that there is perfect agreement between Matthew and Mark, while Luke differs from both. There is but one way of reconciling these apparently discrepant statements, and that is by supposing that Christ both kneeled and fell on his face. And we think that we can show at what precise time he changed his posture from kneeling, and fell flat on the ground. Let it be borne in mind, that falling on the ground denoted, with the Jews, great earnestness, and the very extremity of anguish and distress. Thus, at the time of the rebellion of Korah, Dathan and Abiram, Moses and Aaron " fell upon their faces, and said, God, the God of the spirits of all flesh, shall one man sin, and wilt thou be wroth with all the congregation?" Num. xvi. 22. Thus, when "Israel turned their backs" before the men of Ai, Joshua "fell to the earth upon his face before the ark of the Lord until the even-tide, he and the elders of Israel." Josh. vii. 6. Thus, when Job heard of the death of his children, and the destruction of his property, he "fell down upon the ground, and worshipped." Job i. 20. Thus, after Nathan's message to David, the penitent king "fasted, and went in and lay all night upon the earth." 2 Sam. xii. 16. Thus, when the Ammonites and Moabites came up against Judah, in the days of Jehoshaphat, that monarch "bowed his head, with his face to the ground; and all Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem fell before the Lord, worshipping the Lord." 2 Chron. xx. 18. In all these cases, the prostration' of the body indicated great agony of mind, and the casting of the supplicant upon the mercy of God. It was, with the Jew, the distinguishing outer act by which he signified the deep earnestness of his soul within. Keeping this in view, we find the most beautiful harmony in the accounts of the three Evangelists. Jesus first "kneeled down," as Luke relates, in the 41st verse; but when he "prayed more earnestly," in his agony, as recorded in the 44th verse, he fell upon his face on the ground. Here there is consistency between the three writers, Matthew, Mark, and Luke; but this consistency only becomes apparent by a remark in the 44th verse, which was made in the most natural manner, and evidently without any design to remove a difficulty.

18. Now, suppose that in a suit at law, the statements of the witnesses had seemed to clash in like manner, but were reconciled by a casual observation from one of them. Would not more importance be attached to the testimony, than though there had been no seeming disagreement? Would not the discrepancy prove the absence of collusion, and its reconcilement establish, beyond controversy, the truth of the witnesses?

Luke xxii. 45, reads thus: "And when he rose up from prayer and was come to the disciples, he found them sleeping for sorrow."

Matthew and Mark both tell us of our Saviour finding the disciples asleep. But neither of them attempts to give any explanation of it, unless we take as such the statement that " their eyes were heavy." Luke, however, not only mentions the remarkable manner in which the disciples were affected, but he also gives us the pathology of the affection, just as any other medical man would do in similar circumstances. It is, of course, the province of the physician to tell the cause as well as the nature of the disease. This Luke has done. He says that the cause of this heaviness of eyes, oppression, and most unnatural drowsiness was sorrow. Has he assigned a sufficient cause for the effects produced? Does overwhelming grief produce a tendency to sleep? Those who have been accustomed to observe the intimate connection between mind and body, need not be told that what prostrates the one will often overthrow the other. Extraordinary mental emotion of any kind frequently produces extreme lassitude and debility of body, exceedingly favourable to the approaches of "tired nature's sweet restorer." Thus military men have often noticed that after a day of exciting manoeuvering, preparatory to a great battle, the soldiers sleep soundly and heavily. So, too, nothing is more common than for prisoners to enjoy refreshing slumbers the night before their execution. That close observer and profound judge of human nature, Sir Walter Scott, has put into the mouth of Ratcliffe — the turnkey of the Tolbooth at Edinburgh — the following words: "I hae never heard o' ane that sleepit the night before trial, but of mony a ane that sleepit sound as a tap the night afore their necks were straughted." Barnes, in his notes on Matthew, quotes from Dr. Rush, as follows: " There is another symptom of grief, which is not often noticed, and that is profound sleep. I have often witnessed it even in mothers, immediately after the death of a child. Criminals, we are told by Mr. Akerman, the keeper of Newgate, in London, often sleep soundly the night before their execution. The son of General Custine slept nine hours the night before he was led to the guillotine in Paris." Historians have mentioned frequent instances of persons under condemnation sleeping just before they were put to death; but the fact has always been mentioned by these writers with admiration as an extraordinary proof of composure of mind in the victim. Thus they mention that Mary, Queen of Scots, slept several hours after midnight, on the morning of her execution. Thus they tell us that Charles I. of England, slept four hours the night before he was beheaded; and that Louis XVI. of France, slept for the same length of time the night before he was brought to the guillotine. Thus they speak of the Duke D'Enghien taking a brief repose in the little interval of time left him between his condemnation and his being led out to be shot. We suppose that not one reader in a thousand has taken a different view of these cases from that presented by the historians. But Dr. Rush has taken an entirely different view, and has regarded the sleep not as a healthy function of nature, but as a stupor resulting from great mental emotion. And just as Dr. Rush has taken a different stand-point from the historians and the majority of readers, so the physician, Luke, has taken a different stand-point from that of Matthew and Mark. An examination of the original tongue in which these authors wrote, will bring this out more fully. Matthew and Mark employ the same Greek word to express this sleep — a word which signifies deep, profound, intense sleep. But Luke uses a word which literally means "put to sleep." And it is remarkable that it is the same word (koimao) from which physicians have derived their technical term coma, a swoon, or state of stupefaction; and comatose, an adjective applied to the condition of insensibility, which immediately precedes death.

It is an impressive fact that Luke alone gives an explanation of the sleep of the three disciples under circumstances seemingly so well calculated to keep them awake. It is still more wonderful that he employs a nice technical term to express the cause. Taking the two facts together, it is difficult to see how the credibility of his testimony can be impugned. It is strictly professional, and yet so delicately discriminating that it requires the closest inspection to detect the shade of difference between it and that of Matthew and Mark.

19. It is ever regarded as a strong proof of the reliability of a witness, that his evidence bears marks of his observation having been influenced unconsciously by his occupation in life. And the more finely drawn are the marks, the stronger is the conviction of the honesty of the man. And when (as in the case before us) these traces are attenuated to the last degree, the integrity of the witness is completely and irresistibly established. No testimony was ever given in court which bore stronger internal proof of the truthfulness of the witnesses than is presented in the seemingly disagreeing, yet really harmonizing accounts in regard to the awful scene in Gethsemane.

Again, we have another point furnished by the 45th verse. It is to be observed that though Luke attributes the stupor of the disciples to sorrow, he had not said one single word about their being grieved and distressed previous to this time. We are not then prepared for the announcement from him that the disciples were stunned and stupefied by the magnitude of their grief. If the testimony of Luke, therefore, stood by itself, we would be constrained to say that he had assigned a wholly inadequate cause for the marvellous effect produced. But on turning to the other three Evangelists, we find abundant corroborations of the statement of Luke. We find that the disciples were greatly troubled from the time that their Master announced his betrayal and death; and that their alarm and anxiety were so great that Jesus found it necessary to make a special address to them, in order to allay their agitation. The primary design of the discourse of our Lord, (recorded in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth chapters of John) was to console the disciples in their heavy affliction at the thought of losing their well-beloved Friend and Leader. This tender and sympathizing address has brought such comfort to millions of mourners; it has fallen so much like the music of heaven upon the ears of those who were bereaved or crushed by some heavy calamity, that we have almost lost sight of the object for which it was delivered. It is so wonderfully adapted to the condition of those who have trouble of any kind, that we have almost ceased to remember that it was intended, first of all, to cheer and encourage the hearts of the disciples, in their great and overwhelming sorrow.

But a full examination of Matthew, Mark, and John, will show how well Luke is supported in his averment that the disciples were stupefied with sorrow. Matthew tells us that when Christ had told the disciples that he would be betrayed by one of their number, " they were exceedingly sorrowful, and began every one to say unto him, 'Lord, is it I?' ' Mark says: "And they began to be sorrowful, and to say unto him, one by one, 'Is it I?' and another said, 'Is it I?' ' John, who says nothing of their distress at the supper, tells us most explicitly how "sorrow filled their hearts" on their way to Gethsemane. The conversation of our Saviour, which he alone has recorded, is full of allusions to this sorrow. "Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me." "And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter." "I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you." "Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." "Because I have said these things unto you, sorrow hath filled your hearts." "And ye now, therefore, have sorrow, but I will see you again, and your hearts shall rejoice," &c, &c. And we learn from John, too, that our Saviour, after his affectionate talk with his disciples, offered up a prayer well calculated to dissipate their gloom and to teach them reliance upon the protecting care of God.

Now observe the perfect fitting in of part to part, in the gospel narratives, so as to make one harmonious whole. Matthew and Mark tell us how the sorrow of the disciples began at the paschal supper. John tells us how it increased in their walk to the garden, so that Jesus felt constrained to comfort them; and, finally, Luke tells us, that it was carried to such a degree as to produce a lethargic slumber. And this nice adjustment of statement to statement, not only enables us to form a single consistent account, but it also removes all difficulties that arise in the accounts, taken by themselves. Thus an objection might be urged against the cause which Luke had assigned to the sleep, because he had made no previous mention of that cause; but the allusions of the other three Evangelists to it are most copious and satisfactory.

20. Now, suppose that a witness testified abruptly in court, to the fact that he saw three men absolutely stupefied from the effects of great mental emotion. We might be inclined to discredit him, for the simple reason that such a result would require a cause operating for some time, and he had not spoken of it in this manner. But if two other witnesses, without alluding to the stupor, adverted casually to the beginning of the mental excitement, and if a third witness in the same casual manner spoke of its continuance, we would be entirely satisfied by this unintended harmony, that all three had spoken "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

There is still another point here, which we are not disposed to pass by. Matthew and Mark, who do not pretend to excuse the disciples for their sleep, upon the ground that it was caused by their distress of mind, have however given us the excuse offered for them by Christ himself. They tell us, that he, finding them asleep for the third time, said to them, " The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." And this, as we understand it, is equivalent to saying, "I know that your heart is right, and that you wish to watch with me, but your frail human nature is too much jaded and worn out to stand the fatigue." Now, would Christ have furnished an insincere excuse? Would he have looked with allowance upon a sleep which seemed to manifest such heartless want of sympathy with him in his agony, if there had been nothing preternatural in that sleep? The language of our Saviour is strongly confirmatory of the declaration of Luke, that the lethargy of the disciples was the result of sorrow. And it is a noticeable circumstance, that Luke, who gives his own independent reason for the sleep, does not mention at all the excuse offered by Christ.

21. It would be difficult to find stronger proof of the credibility of evidence than is afforded here. Matthew and Mark have not a word to say in defence of the three disciples; they have no explanation of the sleep; they see nothing preternatural in it: they tell us, however, (although all unconscious of its important bearing,) of the view taken of it by Jesus himself, and that is in perfect harmony with the opinion expressed by Luke. Luke xxii. 46, reads thus: "And said unto them, Why sleep ye? Rise and pray, lest ye enter into temptation."

A comparison' of this verse with the parallel passages in Matthew and Mark, reveals several points which are worthy of our attention. First of all, we notice, that as Luke had omitted to mention the selection of James, and John, and Peter, to watch with their Master, so he has also neglected to mention that Christ prayed three times, and returned at the close of each prayer to the drowsy watchers. Our explanation of the failure to allude to the three prayers is the same as that already given for the failure to allude to the selection of the three disciples. Luke evidently knew less than Matthew and Mark, of the agony in the garden, and he therefore has given us fewer of its details. However, his very omissions prove the trustworthiness of the Evangelists. In addition to the fact that Matthew and Mark had superior opportunities of knowing of the sufferings in Gethsemane, there is a peculiar propriety in the mention by them alone, of the choice of the three disciples, and of the minute particulars in the garden. As we understand this choice, it was not merely out of preference for James, and John, and Peter, but it was intended to rebuke their presumption, and to teach believers in all time to come, that "the heart is deceitful above all things."

Let it be borne in mind, that James and John had declared their ability to drink of the same cup of suffering with their Lord, and to be baptized with the same baptism of anguish and distress. Let it be borne in mind, that when Christ spoke of the smiting of the Shepherd and the scattering of the flock, Peter was the very first to proclaim his unswerving allegiance; "though all men shall be offended because of thee, yet will I never be offended." Let it be borne in mind, that Matthew and Mark alone record the boast of James and John. Matt. xx. 22; Mark x. 39. It was then obviously proper for them alone to show the emptiness of that boast. Let it be borne in mind, that though Luke tells us of the confident language of Peter, yet he relieves it greatly of its presumption, by making it seem to be in self-defence in consequence of a special charge against him alone for want of faithfulness. Whereas, we learn from Matthew and Mark that Christ had prophecied his desertion by all of the disciples, and thereupon Peter audaciously and vaingloriously professed his superior attachment and devotion. It was eminently suitable then, for these Evangelists to show how completely he falsified his profession, when the Master he claimed to love so dearly came to him three times, in vain imploring him to watch a little while, in vain imploring his sympathy and prayers to support the glorious Sufferer, in his awful conflict with the powers of darkness.

The point we make here is this. The rebuke of our Saviour recorded in the 46th verse, seems addressed to all of the eleven disciples; but we learn from Matthew and Mark that it was addressed only to the three boasters — James, and John, and Peter. Now, we affirm that there is a fitness in this, which ought to excite our admiration. It was right that the writers, who had made special mention of the pride, self-seeking, and self-laudation of the three disciples, should also record their fall. The gospel narratives are thereby made consistent with the whole scope and teaching of the Old Testament Scriptures. Thus the latter tell us that " every one that is proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord." "Pride goeth before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall." "An high look and a proud heart, and the ploughing of the wicked is sin.' 1 And pride is spoken of as the sin which keeps men from God. " The wicked, through the pride of his countenance, will not seek after God." And there are numerous examples given us in the Old Testament Scriptures, to show the displeasure of the Lord against pride, arrogance and boastfulness. How signally did he rebuke his own servant David, for numbering the people from a vainglorious motive. Nebuchadnezzar was driven from among men, and his dwelling was appointed with the beasts of the field, because of his boastful exclamation: "Is not this great Babylon, that I have built for the house of the kingdom by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty." Sennacherib, king of Assyria, elated by his victories over many nations, invaded Judea and wrote blasphemous and presumptuous letters, saying: "As the gods of the nations of other lands have not delivered their people out of my hand, so shall not the God of Hezekiah deliver his people out of my hand." God, however, put his hook in the nose of the boaster, and his bridle in his lips, and turned him back by the way he came. But one hundred and eighty-five thousand of his warriors returned not with him,

"For the angel of death spread his wings on the blast
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed,
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill
And their hearts but once heaved and for ever were still.
And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal,
And the might of the Gentile unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!"

Hezekiah, who had been so miraculously delivered from impending destruction, fell soon after into the same sin of pride, which had ruined the haughty Assyrian. For he boastfully exhibited to the messengers of the king of Babylon, "the silver, and the gold, and the spices, and the precious raiment, and all the house of his armour, and all that was found in his treasures." But the Lord was sore displeased with him for this vain display, and the prophet came with the stern message: "Behold the days come, that all that is in thine house, and that which thy fathers have laid up in store unto this day, shall be carried into Babylon: nothing shall be left, saith the Lord." Jehu exultingly exclaimed, "come with me and see my zeal for the Lord." But Jehu became a worshipper of "the golden calves that were in Bethel, and that were in Dan." And God permitted Hazael, king of Syria, to ravage his territories. Uzziah was greatly prospered while he was humble. " But when he was strong, his heart was lifted up to his destruction: for he transgressed against the Lord his God, and went into the temple of the Lord to burn incense upon the altar of incense." And God smote him with leprosy, for presumptuously attempting to do that which the priests alone had a right to do.

We are now prepared to see that Matthew and Mark have written in the same spirit as "the holy men of old;" and just as the writers of the Old Testament never record a boast, without also telling of its punishment, so the two Evangelists who record the presumption of the three disciples, tell in like manner of its rebuke. And yet Matthew and Mark have done this in the most natural manner conceivable, without breaking in upon the unity of their narrations, and doubtless without being conscious themselves that they were making their accounts harmonize with the whole scheme of Providence, from creation down. In fact, this harmony has only been brought out by a careful examination of their testimony, and is so delicate, that the great majority of readers do not perceive it at all.

22. Now, suppose that after a trial had been pending for years, two witnesses had been called upon to give their evidence; and this was found to agree in spirit and substance with all preceding evidence, and yet that the agreement could only be discovered after a rigid scrutiny and critical inspection — is there a court in Christendom which would not pronounce the two witnesses to be honest, and the whole testimony from the beginning to be true? How then is it possible for us, on seeing the wonderful harmony between Matthew and Mark and the writers of the Old Testament Scriptures in regard to the manner of God's dealing with men, to resist the conclusion that the two Evangelists are honest, and that the whole Bible is true?

But there is a collateral point here, which merits our consideration. Mark, writing under the direction of Peter, not only designates that apostle as one of the sleepers, but he also tells us of Christ's pointed rebuke to him personally: "And he cometh, and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter, Simon, sleepeth thou? couldst not thou watch one hour?" Observe, that Christ does not call him Peter, a rock — an honourable surname given him — but by his old name, Simon. There is more of censure in the name by which Christ addressed him, than in aught else. It would seem, that when Simon acknowledged Jesus to be the Messiah, his Master not only blessed him, but also bestowed upon him the cognomen, Peter. Matt. xvi. 17, 18. Now, it is remarkable that Mark, who relates Christ's personal rebuke of Peter in the garden, says not one word about the benediction. (Compare Mark viii. 29, with Matt. xvi. 17, 18.) Peter felt too much humbled after his fall, to permit Mark to tell how he got a surname, which he so much dishonoured.

We have said, that Christ offered an excuse for the sleeping disciples. It is easy to reconcile the excuse with the rebuke, if we take Luke's view of the sleep. Christ could consistently excuse them for sleeping, in the condition in which they were, and yet rebuke them for getting into that condition. There was something preternatural about their sleep; but if they had watched and prayed, as they were directed to do, they would have been enabled to resist temptation, and would not have fallen into a state of stupor. Christ could then, with perfect propriety, make allowance for them in being overpowered by a lethargy which had taken full possession of them, and yet at the same time, blame them for not resisting the first approaches of that lethargy. The censure and the excuse can thus be readily harmonized, with the aid of the explanation afforded by Luke; but they would be wholly irreconcilable without it.

23. However, the point we now make is, that Peter's modesty and honesty entitle him to be believed as a witness. He was too modest to allow his amanuensis, Mark, to record the blessing, and the title conferred upon him. He was too honest to permit his secretary to pass over the pointed rebuke which he received in the garden. Had he kept silence about it, the other ten disciples and the world most likely never would have known it; for it is not probable that James and John, in their drowsy condition, heard it at all.

Now, the boastfulness of pride has ever been regarded as a mark of untruthfulness. " The proud have forged a lie against me," said David, in a time of sore persecution. Solomon has associated together "the proud look and the lying tongue," as two of the six things which the Lord doth hate. Paul's classification of the wicked runs thus: "Proud, boasters, inventors of evil things." Here the bragging tongue and the mischief-working hand are coupled together. To this agrees the declaration of the Psalmist: " The workers of iniquity boast themselves." If boasting, then, be joined with falsehood and wickedness, surely modesty ought to be with truth and righteousness. In fact, the experience of all mankind confirms the teaching of God's holy word. Bragging and lying have ever been found associated together; modesty and veracity have ever been inseparable. The traitor, Arnold, was one of the greatest braggarts and most unblushing liars of his age. Washington was as much distinguished for his modesty as for his scrupulous regard for truth. Peter's modesty, in suppressing the praise which he had received, ought then to prepare us for the honesty he has manifested in allowing a severe rebuke of himself to become known. And as he has exhibited both traits of character, we are at a loss to imagine how any witness could give stronger proofs of rectitude and integrity.

Before passing on to the 47th verse, it may be well to notice a matter which has given considerable trouble to the most judicious commentators. Matthew tells us, that when Christ came to the disciples for the third time, he said, " Sleep on now, and take your rest. Behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners." Adam Clarke and Whitby suppose that the direction, " Sleep on now," was spoken interrogatively. "Do ye sleep on still? Will no warning avail? Will no danger excite you to watchfulness and prayer?" Campbell, Doddridge, and Matthew Henry, take a still stranger view of the language of our Saviour. They regard it as ironical, and equivalent to, "Now sleep on, if you can; sleep, if you dare. I would not disturb you, if Judas and his band would not." Even the judicious Scott perceives a grave sarcasm, in the permission granted to the disciples to sleep. He says, that " Christ bade them sleep, and take their rest, that is, if they were able; for though his agonies and exhortations had failed to keep them awake, there were those coming who would do it effectually." The last two views are utterly improbable; the meek and lowly Jesus could not employ the language of irony and sarcasm, under circumstances of such peculiar solemnity. And so thinks Dr. J. A. Alexander, though he has by no means removed the difficulty in the passage, which consists in the apparent contradiction of Christ's telling them in one sentence to "sleep on," and in the very next, to "rise" and "be going." (See Matt, xxvi. 45, 46.) Mr. Barnes takes the interrogative view suggested by Whitby and Clarke, and gives as a reason for it, that the 46th verse of Luke is interrogative, and points to the same time as that indicated in the 45th and 46th verses of Matthew.

We believe that most expositors, and the clergy generally, entertain a like opinion. But an examination of the original shows clearly that the interrogative hypothesis is wrong, and that the " Sleep on now, and take your rest," of Matthew, and the "Why sleep ye?" of Luke, are not equivalent expressions. The literal rendering of the Greek in Matthew is, " Sleep intensely what remains, and refresh yourselves;" that is, take your repose for what time yet remains, before you will be disturbed. This demonstrates the incorrectness of the interrogative view of Whitby and Clarke. "Why sleep ye what remains," is absurd phraseology. Moreover, it is entirely inconsistent with the pity manifested, and the excuse offered by our Saviour for the disciples, in their deplorable condition. We are then constrained to conclude, that Luke has condensed in the 46th verse, the first and last addresses of Christ. Matthew and Mark agree, that on his first visit, his language was interrogative; that on the second, he said nothing; and that on the third, he spoke pityingly, and directed them to sleep awhile, and then added, "Rise, let us be going." To make Luke's statement harmonize with that of Matthew and Mark, it is only necessary to suppose that the words recorded in the 46th verse were not all spoken at the same time; that Jesus said, "Why sleep ye?" when he first came to the disciples, and, "Rise and pray, lest ye enter into temptation," when he roused them, to go forth with him to meet Judas and his band.¹ A close inspection of the parallel passage in Mark establishes our position. He says, "And he cometh the third time, and saith unto them, Sleep on now, and take your rest: it is enough, the hour is come Rise up, let us go: lo, he that betray eth me is at hand." These words explain away the whole difficulty in Matthew. Jesus, in tender compassion for his suffering disciples, permitted them to sleep until he saw his persecutors coming, and then said, "It is enough." You have slept long enough, the betrayer is at hand. Nor was it a slight indulgence, which Christ granted his disciples, for several hours may have elapsed from the time he told them to "sleep on," until he aroused them saying, "It is enough." And this we will now attempt to prove. The paschal supper was most likely eaten just after sunset, (at that season between six and seven o'clock) and allowing ample time for all that occurred at the table, we may safely suppose that Christ did not reach Gethsemane later than ten o'clock. And, indeed, at a later hour, the gates of the city would most likely have been closed. To ascertain how long he was in the garden, we have then only to fix the time at which the betrayer came. A comparison of the Evangelists will settle that point.

The third denial of Peter was evidently at what the Jews called cock-crowing, that is just before daylight, (Kitto and Brown.) Because, we know from a comparison of John with Mark, that immediately (straightway) after the third denial of Peter, the Jews hurried Jesus to Pilate's Hall; and from Matthew we learn that it was just then daylight. Now, if we can determine when the first denial took place, we will be able to determine also pretty accurately, when Christ was arrested in the garden. And this we hope to do by a careful examination of the Evangelists. Mark says that the cock crew at the first denial of Peter: Luke, that the second denial was "a little while" after the first, and that the third was " about the space of one hour" after the second. Hence there was an interval of something like an hour, more or less, between the first denial and the last. John, (as we will see hereafter) gives an account of the several denials, in their connection with the trial before Caiaphas, as it progressed, and from him we learn that Peter first denied his Master before the high priest had propounded any questions, or, in other words, before Jesus was arraigned at the bar. And the last denial John places after the condemnation of Christ by the Sanhedrim. Therefore, it appears that the Jews hurried through the trial in the palace of Caiaphas, in about an hour. There were three powerful motives urging them to despatch. First, the malignity of their hate was such that they wished to execute Jesus as speedily as possible. Second, it was the preparation-day, and they had certain religious rites to perform, after they had gotten through with their bloody work. Third, they were exceedingly anxious to get Jesus under the charge of the Roman governor and soldiery, before the city should be awake, and a rescue attempted. These three motives were sufficiently cogent to prevent unnecessary delay in the mock trial before Caiaphas, and we may therefore safely say that it did not exceed an hour. Supposing, then, that daylight, or the second cock-crowing was about half after five o'clock at that season; the first crowing could not have been at midnight, as commentators generally teach. The interval of an hour, according to Luke, between the denials of Peter, forbids any such vague hypothesis. Besides, it is a well known fact that the cock does crow at dawn and about one hour before it, and that not until after three o'clock in the morning, is there so short an interval as one hour between any two successive Growings. Assuming, then, that the arraignment before Caiaphas began at half-past four o'clock, and allowing half an hour for the band to return from Gethsemane, the arrest was most probably made about four o'clock. Assuming, moreover, that Christ's agony lasted for more than an hour, (and that is a long period to assign to such extremity of suffering,) he must have come for the third time to the three disciples at about eleven o'clock. There was then a space of five hours from his saying, "Sleep on now," until the coming of the "great multitude with swords and staves, from the chief priests, and the scribes, and elders." It will now be seen that the whole difficulty, in reconciling the 45th and 46th verses of the twenty-sixth chapter of Matthew, has arisen from not perceiving that it was some hours from the third visit of Christ to his disciples, until the arrival of Judas. And if our estimate of time be correct, he could and did indulge them in sleep from eleven o'clock, P. M., till four A. M.

What an exalted view does this give us of the perfect unselfishness of our precious Redeemer! He graciously permits those to sleep, whose sympathy and support he craves so ardently, and watches alone those five dreary hours in the darkness of the night. And yet how little fitted is his body for such a task, already enfeebled as it is by the terrible ordeal just gone through! And what awful and appalling subjects of contemplation come crowding upon his mind; the betrayal by one disciple, the denial by another, the desertion by all, the crowning with thorns, the spitting of contempt, the mocking, the buffeting, the taunting, the hanging in agony upon the cross, the hiding of his Father's face! How he shrinks in his loneliness from these dreadful thoughts, and yet he allows his chosen three to sleep on, and sleep on! With all his own need of repose, he stands watching over the slumbers of his grief-stricken followers, with all the tenderness of a mother watching by the sickbed of a loving and beloved child. Hear how earnestly he prays for them, while the spirits of darkness stand pointing to them in derision, taunting him with their desertion, and exulting in the cruelties and death awaiting him. Still, he does not arouse the sleepers and implore one word of comfort and consolation: " a little more sleep for my beloved — the murderers are coming, but they are not yet here — rest a few moments longer." But hark! He is praying for you and for me! " Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also, which shall believe on me through their word."

We thank thee, Father, that the merciful, the compassionate, the unselfish, remembers even the chief of sinners. But look! the lights are flashing through yonder olive-trees. Ah, that is the measured tread of Roman soldiery — see the gleam of their spears; and that roar of vengeance — it is from the fierce rabble of Jerusalem. Mark that malicious-looking wretch, gliding stealthily before them. It is Judas himself — the traitor is here. Now Christ gently touches the sleepers, and awakes them. Still loving his own, he loves them to the end; still thinking of them, and not of himself, his words of awaking are words of admonition for their benefit: "Rise, and pray, lest ye enter into temptation."

Never man spake, never man acted like this man. Son of God! inspire us with some of thy own magnanimity, thy own generosity, and thy own unselfishness of character. Disciple of Jesus! you have often to bear the cross of Calvary before a sinful world; exhibit also the tenderness of Gethsemane, in your intercourse at home, with relations and friends.

24. It sometimes happens, in actions at law, that the testimony seems a jumble of contradictions, dark, confused, inexplicable, until the key is discovered, which unlocks the mystery, and brings everything out in the broad light of day. Such was the case, we remember, in a celebrated murder trial in England. And it is plain, that after all seeming contradictions have been reconciled, the jury will accept the whole evidence as true, with more readiness than though there had been no difficulty. The discrepancies show the absence of collusion, and their removal demonstrates the truth of the testimony.

The key to the difficulty in Matthew is the time spent in Gethsemane. The truth was locked up, and remained concealed, because no search was made for the key.

If we have gotten the right solution to the problem which has puzzled the world so long, we have also gotten an unanswerable argument for the credibility of the Evangelists. The truth has been elicited by a close cross-questioning of the witnesses at different times, on different occasions, and under different circumstances.

1) Since writing the above, we have been gratified to find that Dr. Jacobus also refers the address, "Why sleep ye?" to the first visit of Christ.