is applicable to the prayer of the true High Priest and its reviewers. Strauss finds in it not a direct outpouring, but a retrospect. Is it to be wondered at, that feeling, in its perfection, should be vented entirely in thoughts? Or should the words have been intermingled with the Ohs! and Ahs! of an enthusiast, lest they should seem only a retrospect? Such reasoning is called forth by the old assumption of an irreconcilable antagonism between ‘head and heart;’ but attention must be called to the infinitely acute understanding, the perfect reflection exhibited in the structure of a blossoming rose, the beautiful type of a mind glowing with love.

The leading idea of Weisse’s argument against the genuineness of this Gospel, has been already cited and refuted. The supposed duplexity of the Christ of the synoptical Gospels and the Christ of St John is an illusion. The ancient Church, in its intimate acquaintance with the subject, never perceived that double of the actual Christ, the John-like Christ, or Christ-like John of Professor Weisse. The view in question is connected with a multitude of erroneous assumptions. When it is said, for instance, that ‘in the portraiture of Christ, as given in the synoptical Gospels, the mind of the Evangelist is a medium of transmission wholly indifferent, while in that of John it is a co-operative power in the production,’ this assertion is entirely refuted by the fact, that each of the three first Gospels displays its own distinct peculiarity. Besides, according to this opinion, the synoptical portraiture of Christ would be a mere dull copy, that of John an artistic picture; and it might well be asked which was preferable. But in any case, the representation of John would still be a portrait of Christ. Weisse, however, subsequently withdraws such an assumption. ‘John gives us less a portrait than a notion of Christ; his Christ does not speak from, but about His person.’ But could He then not speak from His person about His own person? Is the Christ who converses at Jacob’s well with the woman of Samaria, and weeps at the grave of Lazarus, a mere notion—is this less a portrait than the Christ of the Sermon on the Mount? Weisse also proceeds upon the view that the Gospel of St John was composed independently of any settled plan. ‘In fact, it appears from the uniform character of the discourses, not to mention the selection of the events narrated, so entirely devoid of plan, that no other explanation offers itself to the unprejudiced reader than the accident that these, and no other occurrences, came to the authors knowledge; or, on the other hand, the equally accidental possibility of a connection of these, and no other narratives, with the matter in the possession of the author for the carrying out of his work,’ that is, with the discourses recorded by the Apostle John. The want of plan in this Gospel is only the assertion of the critic, which may, with equal or greater justice, be met by a counter assertion. It will be our task to affirm its entire conformity to a settled plan when we subsequently treat of this Gospel. A hint at its fundamental idea must suffice for the present. Throughout the whole composition, the Evangelist is carrying out the theme: ‘The light shined in darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not;’ or, as it is stated with greater detail, ‘He came unto His own, and His own received Him not; but to as many as received Him, to them gave He power to become the sons of God’ (chap. 1:5-11). This was the fundamental thought upon which this Evangelist composed and arranged his Gospel from the material of his own reminiscences. This is the reason why he speaks so little of Christ’s Galilean ministry, and so much of His contests with the Jewish mind in Jerusalem; and why, as Weisse incorrectly puts it, ‘this Gospel makes almost all the occurrences it relates take place at Jerusalem’ (p. 122).

Weisse sees also, in the connection of the didactic parts, marks of a compiler’s hand, and indeed of one who has but little independence of mind. ‘On actual investigation,’ says he, ‘the forced and laboured occasions for certain sayings and longer discourses, the frequently halting, and never really successful manner of the dialogue, the utter incomprehensibleness of many sayings and apophthegms, in the connection in which they are given, cannot but strike us.’ The critic then brings forward proofs, viz., examples in which the said incongruities between questions and answers are said to appear. One is met with, he says, in chap. 2:4, where Jesus gives the well-known answer to His mother’s observation: ‘they have no wine.’ That this answer is difficult to explain, cannot be denied. But this is owing to another property than incongruity; for as far as this is concerned, it is evident that the answer strictly refers to Mary’s remark. Weisse finds a second incongruity in chap. 3:5. His discovery concerning this passage is in the highest degree striking. When Nicodemus asked, ‘How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?’ and Jesus answered, ‘He must be born of water and of the Spirit;’ we have surely a correction of the most direct kind. It will not, we feel, be necessary to go through the critic’s whole catalogue in this manner.

The narrative parts of this Gospel, which, according to Weisse, must be entirely set down to a ‘compiler,’ are next said to exhibit an utter absence of any general view. ‘An error of judgment in our Evangelist of the kind referred to, both with respect to the relation of Jesus to the Jewish people, and His manner of discoursing and method of teaching, in the presence of His disciples and opponents, testifies more plainly against him who thus errs, than all his details in particulars testify for him.’ Concerning this supposed error of judgment in the Evangelist, the critic might be sufficiently corrected by the cross as it appears in the statements of the synoptists, but especially by the plan of St John himself, which has indeed escaped his research. The graphic nature of the narratives has often been extolled as a proof of the authenticity of this Gospel. Weisse, however, finds, in the very details which render them so, marks which make them doubtful; and, by way of example, tests the cure at Bethesda by this assertion. It is said to testify against the possibility of the narrator being an eye-witness, ‘that, according to this narrative, we involuntarily receive the impression that Jesus was going about alone and unaccompanied when He met with the sick man, which seems (ver. 13) to be further confirmed by the fact, that the latter lost sight of Jesus in the crowd, as a solitary and unimportant individual.’ If then it really happened thus, certainly the impression obtained by the critic may testify against the fact of John’s being an eye-witness of this miracle, but not in the least against his faithful remembrance and record of a circumstance, which Jesus might possibly have related to him a quarter of an hour after its occurrence. The critic is, however, unable to furnish the slightest reason for his view; for Jesus might just as easily have withdrawn Himself from the observation of the sick man, by passing through the multitude with one or more of His disciples, as alone. The circumstance that Jesus began to question the sick man, unapplied to, is next said to excite attention, since, according to the synoptists, such was by no means His custom. But would one who was compiling a narrative so lightly have ventured to depict so original a feature? Did the peculiar character of the patient offer no reason for peculiarity of treatment? This man, who for so long a period had suffered others to take precedence of himself, who appears to have taken no special pains to find people to plunge him at the right moment into the water, who so soon after the benefit he received, lost sight of his benefactor, seems not to have possessed the energy with which many others entreated the Lord. He was not entirely helpless, for he had often attempted to profit by the troubling of the water, and to get into the pool by his own strength; but ‘while I am coming,’ says he, ‘another steppeth in before me.’ And yet no wish, no entreaty, no expectation, is heard to proceed from his mouth. No one can blame Dr Paulus if he suspects this man. That he was indeed no impostor, is shown by the readiness of the Saviour to perform this cure; he seems, however, to have been phlegmatic and irresolute in the highest degree. It was for this reason that Jesus so significantly inquires of him, ‘Wilt thou be made whole?’ and excites within him the desire which was so devoid of energy. The critic also finds the injunction of Christ: ‘Arise, take up thy bed and walk,’ ‘utterly inadequate,’ because the patient had already some strength, and could therefore in case of need stand up and walk. It would be but an insult to my readers to waste a word on this ‘utter inadequacy.’ The Jews understood the difference between his former and present walking far better. Hence they employed their casuistry in representing it as a sin, that so robust a man should be carrying his bed, an act which they had formerly allowed to the cripple as a work of necessity. This obviates the new difficulty discovered by the critic. ‘But if it was not allowed to carry a bed on the Sabbath, how could the sick man have had his brought to the pool on that day?’ These are the kind of incidents which excite the suspicions of Weisse, in a narrative which seems to him fit to be selected as a specimen.

The free mention of the names of persons, towns, and districts by the Evangelist, forms another class of details. ‘A considerable part of these indications,’ says Weisse, ‘is so constructed, as to leave an involuntary impression that the narrator inserted them, to spare his readers the trouble it had cost him to make inquiries concerning scenes and persons.’ Among such indications are reckoned that ‘Bethsaida is called the city of Andrew and Peter;’ that when Cana is named a second time, the miracle formerly wrought there is recalled; that when Nicodemus again appears on the scene, he is designated as the same who came to Jesus by night; and others of a like character. This particularity of statement is, however, far more simply explained, by attributing it to the peculiarity of the author, than to the excessive laboriousness with which he prosecuted his studies of Gospel history, and with which he consequently imparted it to others. Could such information be so very difficult to obtain, in the later apostolic period of the Christian Church? Our critic is leading us imperceptibly beyond the sphere of the Church. Even in such a case, if the inquirer had appropriated the materials of others, it does not follow that he would impart it in the laboured manner supposed. But it well accords with the known character of St John, that he should mention with the emphasis of affection such places, for instance, as ‘Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha,—‘Lazarus whom He raised from the dead,’ and such like.

It is upon such arguments that Weisse founds his assertion, that the fourth Gospel, viewed as an historical authority, stands considerably lower than the synoptical Gospels, and must, in its general view of the character and person of Christ, and of the process of His history, be corrected by them. Though the critic does not commit himself to a distinction of the component parts of the Gospel according to their originality, yet he allows that ‘if anything in the whole composition is the work of St John, it is undoubtedly the so-called prologue (p. 134). If this prologue is regarded as an organic fragment needing completion by a corresponding organism, its nature is sufficiently manifested to enable us to infer such a completion as that furnished by the Gospel itself. The remark that such introductions to historical books are nowhere else found in the New Testament, cannot be brought forward as an argument against the unity of the fourth Gospel. The prologue harmonizes, both in style and view, with the whole work. Nevertheless, it is said to be an independent fragment. How far more does the prologue to the third Gospel differ from the Gospel which it precedes! and yet it is universally admitted as a component part. It certainly does need patience to follow the endless caprices, the tricks and turns of modern critical argumentation, for even a short distance.

The Tübingen school has declared, by the votes of a whole series of authors, against the genuineness of the fourth Gospel. The train of argument by which Schwegler, in his work, Der Montanismus und die christliche Kirche des zweiten Jahrhunderts, p. 183, opposes the authenticity of this Gospel, may be regarded as an expression of sympathy with this criticism. The first argument proceeds upon the assertion, that the Johannean doctrine of the Trinity, as far as its degree of formal completeness and definiteness is concerned, anticipates the dogmatic developments of nearly two centuries. This remark is not peculiarly well adapted for placing the argument on a firm foundation. The Johannean doctrine of the Trinity certainly surpasses, both in purity and fulness, that of Sabellius and Origen; nay, it may be with truth affirmed, that it has not even yet been exhausted, in its entire ideality, by the utterances either of Christian dogmatism or of religious philosophy. It follows, that if the fact of its surpassing posterity is taken as a starting-point for such an argument, we shall find ourselves on the high road to prove that this Gospel is not written yet. The critic, indeed, himself reminds us that ‘divining spirits often pass over a long series of intermediate results.’ But ‘he is surprised, that not only are the other books of the New Testament devoid of the Johannean doctrines of the Logos and the Paraclete, in this form, but especially, that Justin seems to have no notion of any apostolic predecessor of such a kind. As far as the other books of the New Testament are concerned, the Christology of Ephes. 1:3, &c., and Col 1:15, &c., is essentially the same as that announced in the fourth Gospel. Originality of view and expression, however, is an essential feature in our notion of an apostle. It would have been preposterous if St Paul had used the same expressions as St John, either in this or in any other respect. And if Justin did not make his saying (Apol. maj:), καὶ γὰρ ὁ Χριστὸς εἶπεν, ἄν μὴ ἀναγεννηθῆτε, οὐ μὴ εἰσελθῆτε εἰς τὴν βασιλείαν τῶν οὐρανῶν, exactly conform with St John’s words, chap. 3:3, such freedom of expression is so entirely in the style of Christian antiquity, that it is quite surprising to find our author regarding this circumstance as ‘a most striking proof’ that he was unacquainted with this Gospel. The author supposes that ‘Justin, as the sole promulgator of this doctrine in his days, would have felt bound to extend to his innovation the shield of apostolic sanction.’ In this remark ‘the innovation’ is a pure assumption, entirely devoid of foundation. If it be for a moment granted, that the doctrine of the Logos was already known to the Church in Justin’s days, through this Gospel, the whole remark falls to the ground. A second argument of this author is founded on the remark, that a decided distinction between the Logos and the Pneuma is wanting in the earlier fathers till Irenæus, and that this distinction or dogmatic evolution does not makes its appearance before the era of this Gospel and of Montanism. It is hence supposed ‘that both originated in one and the same sphere of theological movement.’ But here also the critic overshoots the mark in a manner which must be very inconvenient. If this confusion of the Logos with the Pneuma lasted till Irenæus, and if its abolition marks the epoch when St John’s Gospel and Montanism appeared, both must have been subsequent to Irenæus. With respect to the relation of the fourth Gospel to Montanism, the author brings forward the similarity between the theories of the Montanists and of St John concerning the Paraclete, in which respect he refers to Baur, Trinitätslehre, p. 164. In this case, such similarities are mentioned as, that both systems represent the Paraclete as the revealer of futurity, that both give prominence to His judicial agency. The author has indeed a feeling of the difference between the fourth Gospel and Montanism with regard to the Paraclete. ‘There we find the tranquil mysterious feature of Christian gnosis, here the coarse reality of the formal dead; there Christian consciousness in its peaceful untroubled perfection, here in its wild, enthusiastic current,’ &c. (p. 189). Yet he thinks, p. 204, he cannot but bring up the question as a dilemma, whether the Gospel is the postulate and relative factor of Montanism, or vice versa; and arrives at the result, that the Gospel seeks to mediate ‘between Jewish and heathen Christianity, two contrasts which stand exactly opposed to each other in their most concrete forms and sharpest distinctness, as Montanism and Gnosticism,—to admit both extremes in a transfigured form into the Church, and to point out the correct evangelical medium between them. Apart from the fact that the strongest expression of judaized Christianity is contained, not in Montanism, but in Ebionitism, we would ask, how could this Gospel so mediate between the mutilated Christology of the Montanists, which made the Son inferior to the Pneuma and the Doceticism of the Gnostics, that the Catholic doctrine of the Son of God, and of His perpetual presence in the Church, should be the result? How could it be possible to find any correct evangelical medium between the constrained and morbid asceticism of the Montanists, and the gloomy asceticism of the Gnostics which misconceived the corporeity? The author himself seems to produce but an extremely one-sided medium, one namely which accuses judaized Christianity as savouring of Marcionism (p. 210), and favours heathenized Christianity, by struggling towards the conclusion, that ‘according to the Gospel, it was only a spiritual body in which the risen Saviour appeared to His disciples.’ How the author can reconcile the Marcionism which he fancies he finds in the Gospel, with such passages as John v. 39 and viii. 39, it is not easy to perceive. He should have more explicitly stated what he understands by a ‘spiritual body,’ having shortly before remarked, that the risen Saviour insists upon the ‘materiality of His mode of existence more strongly here than in St Luke” This, at all events, is certain, that the fourth Gospel could as little introduce into the Church a judaized Christian as a heathenized Christian ‘extreme’ which it had ‘transfigured ;’ and, least of all, that having committed itself to so erroncous an enterprise, it would be able to maintain its canonicity. The Gospels know nothing of finding this kind of happy medium among themselves, which the author is so taken with. he fact is, that Christianity, even in apostolic times, could not but, from the very first, contend against both the christianized Jewish and christianized heathen views of the world, and oppose these delusions. Its mediation consisted in developing and defining its own nature in opposition to both. With respect to the principal matter, it is not difficult to see that the Paraclete of St John is very different from that of Montanus. The former appears in the world contemporaneously with the glorification of Christ by His death and resurrection (John vii. 39); the latter appears in the Church with the person of Montanus,⁶ or with the establishment of his school (Tertullian, de virgintbus velandis, c. 1).⁷ The former comes as the remembrancer; He speaks not of Himself; He brings no new revelation, but glorifies, as its vital principle, the living unity of the Gospel history (John xiv. 26, chap. xvi. 13). The latter does not appear as a remembrancer of the Gospel_history, but rather extinguishes the remembrance of the past and the present, and makes new communications to mankind.⁸ Finally, the former founds no church or kingdom different from that of the Son ; He brings no third revelation to surpass the revelations of the Father and the Son, but completes the one perpetual revelation of the Father by the Son, to the Church (John xvii.). The latter, on the contrary, is interested in making his revelation appear as a new, another, a third: one ; and they who proclaim it, separate themselves from the Church universal.⁹ From these essential differences, which manifest plainly enough the contrast between the mature catholic historic life, and the gloomy enthusiasm of separatism, a multitude of minor ones may be developed, as, for instance, the difference between the healthy energy of the spiritual life in St John’s Gospel, and the morbid, nay, convulsive passivity of the spiritual life of the Montanists. No further detail, however, is needed to destroy the illusion that Montanism is to be regarded as the postulate, and relatively as the factor, of the fourth Gospel.

This author brings forward the well-known question. concerning the day on which the Lord celebrated His last Passover, as a prominent difficulty in the way of acknowledging the genuineness of the fourth Gospel (p. 191). According to Irenaeus and Polykrates, St John and the Asiatic Church were accustomed to keep Easter in the night of the 14th and 15th Nisan, after the Jewish fashion.

“But what, says the author, ‘if the same John, in his Gospel, makes the 14th the day of Christ’s death, and the 13th that of His last Passover, thus depriving the date of the Eastern celebration of Easter of its ecclesiastical and historical sanction?’ ‘'This is, then,’ says Bretschneider, ‘an evident contradiction ; and since the attestation of this fact stands upon a firmer basis than that of St John’s Gospel, this contradiction becomes an evidence of the non-authenticity of the latter.’ The author thinks that the evident purpose of this Gospel is to oppose the Judaic-Christian Passover which was customary in Asia Minor. Its origin must therefore, in any case, date from the middle to the end of the second century. On the other hand, it may be asked, how could Tatian already appeal to four recognized Gospels in support of his work on the Gospels, if this Gospel did not appear till his own days, and was then intended to oppose so powerful a tendency as that of the Asiatic Church? Or how could Irenaeus reprove the Romish bishop, Victor, for making the time of the celebration of Easter a subject of contention, if he could not but know that the fourth Gospel took up the same position as Victor, and if he highly prized this Gospel, and gave it an equal rank with the other three? How speedily must this polemical Gospel have gained universal respect in the Church, if in the time of Apollinaris, A.D. 170, it had to struggle for it in Lesser Asia from an antagonistic stand-point, and had in the time of Irenaeus, about A.D. 200, and even earlier, obtained general recognition in the Church? We must, moreover, contemplate the incidents in which this opposition on the part of the fourth Gospel is said to appear. The assumption (p. 196) that even the meaning of the celebration of Easter itself was quite differently understood by the Eastern and Western Churches, may be demurred to. The Eastern Church was as little Jewish as the Western; and it is therefore incorrect to say that ‘the Oriental Easter had no other meaning and no other authority than that of being a continuation of the Jewish rite, which had no specifically Christian signification, The legalism of the Oriental celebration referred entirely to the time, not to the meaning of Easter.¹⁰ This must have appeared the same to the Christian Church everywhere, according to the maturity of the Christian spirit (1 Cor. v. 7,8). It is “quite in keeping that the death of Christ, the body of the dying Redeemer, should be spoken of under the image of the paschal lamb (John xix. 33-37). The Jewish Christians would have been Talmudists, if the intimate relation between this death and its type had escaped them; and the critic, in fact, most unjustly assumes that such talmudistic unbelief existed in the churches of Asia Minor. The peculiar difficulties lie in the passages quoted, which refer to the Lord’s last celebration of the Passover. Why did some of the disciples think that by the words, ‘That thou doest, do quickly,’ Judas was bidden by the Lord to buy what was needed for the feast? This could not have been possible unless the commencement of the feast had been already at hand, that is, unless it had been the evening of the fourteenth Nisan. If it had been the thirteenth, there would be no reason for the pressing word: do quickly. Purchases could then have been made till the evening of the following day, since the feast would not begin till the evening of the fourteenth. But if it were on this evening, it might seem to some, on hearing the words, that Judas had too long delayed the purchase of what was necessary for the feast, and that Jesus was urging him to provide for it as speedily as possible. Then, indeed, the words ὧν χρείαν ἔχομεν εἰς τὴν ἑορτήν do not refer to the paschal lamb itself, but to what was wanted besides for the whole feast, which, in this circle, would probably be provided just before its commencement. This view of the passage also answers to the words (chap. xiii. 1), which have been considered the beginning of these difficulties with respect to the time of the last. Passover : Πρὸ δὲ τῆς ἑορτῆς τοῦ πάσχα, εἰδὼς ὁ Ἰησοῦς ὅτι ἐλήλυθεν αὐτοῦ ἡ ὥρα, ἵνα μεταβῇ ἐκ τοῦ κοσμου τούτου πρὸς τὸν πατέρα, &c. We are here transported to the moment in which, on one hand, the celebration of the Passover, on the other, the hour when Jesus should depart out of this world unto the Father, were at hand. This departing out of the world is the New Testament parallel to the Old Testament departure of the children of Israel from Egypt, and the word seems chosen by the Evangelist with reference to that departure. The night of the real, and of the typical departure are identical: it is the night on which the fifteenth Nisan begins. The departure, the redemption, and the deliverance or salvation from death by the atoning blood on which this redemption was founded, are, both in the celebration of the Passover and in the Lord’s Supper, the principal matter, the primary, or at least the commemorative idea. Neither the death of the typical lamb, nor the death of the true Paschal Lamb, Christ Jesus, were actually represented, but assumed in the celebrations, as the event on which they were founded¹¹ Thus the killing of the paschal lamb took place on the fourteenth Nisan, not as being the festival itself, but as a preparation for the festival, which was itself held on the evening of the fourteenth Nisan, i.e., at the beginning of the fifteenth Nisan. It was on this day of the month also that the Lord’s Supper was instituted; for the death of Jesus was then celebrated in anticipation. If it be asked why, if Christ considered the paschal lamb a type of His death, did He not command His disciples to celebrate the Supper after His death? it may be answered, that this ideality is in conformity with the New Testament. It is just a sealing of that more obscure Old Testament ideality, by which the pious spirit looked, in the celebration of the Passover, to something greater than the preservation in Egypt, and the deliverance from the house of bondage, by which, indeed, it had anticipatively celebrated the death of Christ. Hence Christ also connects His Supper with the Passover, and causes the one to come forth from the other, as the full-blown rose does from the perfected bud. The moment was at hand when Jesus began to wash His disciples’ feet: hence John says, ‘Before the feast of the Passover.’ The washing of their feet was to be, to the disciples, the introduction to that holy night. If it had taken placea whole day before the Passover, they could not have seen in it a distinct reference to that festival. The best support which the reasoning of this author seems to find, is the remark, made by the Evangelist, concerning the Jews who led Jesus before Pilate, that they themselves went not into the judgment-hall, lest they should be defiled, ἀλλ’ ἵνα φάγωσι τὸ πάσχα. If these words are regarded as strictly referring to the eating of the paschal lamb, Christ must certainly have been crucified on the fourteenth Nisan, and have partaken of the Last Supper with His disciples on the preceding day. But it is questionable whether φαγεῖν τὸ πάσχα is to be thus strictly interpreted. Some, especially Lightfoot and Bynzeus, refer these words ‘to the so-called Chagiga, or the sacrifice combined with still more cheerful rejoicing, which took place before the close of the first day of the Passover.¹² Lücke does not, however, consider this view a correct one. Byneus remarks, that since the defilement incurred by entering the house of a Gentile would only have lasted one day, these Jews would not have  feared it, if the eating of the paschal lamb were to take place in the evening, that is, on the next day. Lücke, on the contrary, observes that Bynzeus only supposes, but does not prove, that entrance into a Gentile house involved only the day’s defilement. This may, however, be settled by reference to the passages, Acts x. 11, &e., and Lev, xi. 23, &e. It is certain that it had become a custom among the Jews to extend the law concerning defilement by dead unclean animals, to defilement by Gentile habitations. Bynæus and Lightfoot, however, if they extended the expression φαγεῖν τὸ πάσχα beyond its first and strictest meaning, need not have limited it to the sacrificial meal of the first day. The author of the essay Zu dem Stvreite über das letzte Mahl des Herrn (Evang. Kirchenzeitung, 1838, No. 98) rightly remarks: ‘The expression, to eat the Passover, designates the consumption of the paschal food in the whole extent of its meaning. This consisted of a lamb, with bitter herbs and unleavened bread, on the first day of the Passover; and for the remaining days, first of unleavened bread, and secondly of peace-offerings.’ It may, however, certainly be assumed that the words φαγεῖν τὸ πάσχα must gradually have obtained the same significance in Jewish ears as, to celebrate the Passover. Christians celebrate the Supper and ‘Christmas (Weihnacht) in the middle of the day ; the Romanist says, I am fasting, when he eats fish on Friday. Fasting is the definite notion ; the eating of fish is incidental. And thus, in the Jewish Passover, the eating of the lamb was the root from which the whole feast arose, and so far the whole festival might be included in this expression. We are not then obliged to understand here one definite meal, the desire to partake of which caused the Jews to hesitate at entering the Prætorium. They desired to keep themselves ceremonially clean during the feast; and it was a special part of their observance of the Passover to avoid the Gentile hall of judgment during the middle of the fifteenth Nisan, the feast having already commenced. In further proof of a discrepancy between St John and the synoptists, concerning the time of the Passover, it is also said, that the former twice says of the day of Christ’s death, that it was παρασιξευὴ τοῦ πάσχα (chap. xix. 14, 31) (p. 200). The statement of the author is here inaccurate. In chap. xix. 14, we find ἧν δὲ παρασκευὴ τοῦ πάσχα; while in ver. 31, on the contrary, we have ἐπεὶ παρασκευὴ ἧν; and this latter word is referred to the preceding: ἵνα ’μὴ μείνῃ ὲπὶ τοῦ σταυροῦ τὰ σώματα ἐν τῷ σαββάτῳ. Thus it is evident that preparation, παρασκευὴ, is here a stereotyped expression, to denote the day before the Sabbath, the Friday ; and that the preparation of the Passover, in this connection, cannot denote the time of preparation for the Passover, but only the Friday occurring during the time of its celebration. Finally, the question, why this Evangelist does not relate the institution of the Lord’s Supper, must be answered by a glance at the construction of this Gospel. In any case, it can as little be adduced as a proof of non-authenticity, as, e.g., the circumstance that the institution of baptism is not related. We might even ask the critic how it happened that the whole ancient Church did not perceive the antagonism of this Gospel to the statements of the three first Gospels, with respect to the time of Christ’s last celebration of the Passover, or that, if they did, they accepted the latter without difficulty? Polemic subtilties which were unobserved by the Church, which were never brought forward against the Quartodecimians, could never have been the actual motive of this Gospel. On this assumption, either the Evangelist ill understood polemics, or the Church ill understood polemic expressions. 

Another mark of non-authenticity has been found by this critic in the relation of the fourth Gospel to the Apocalypse. ‘The Apostle John,’ says he, ‘is the undeniable author of the Apocalypse. History bears the strongest and most emphatic testimony to this fact.’ But since it is merely assumed, and not proved, that the Apocalypse is heterogeneous to the Gospel of John, it will be unnecessary to bring forward what has been elsewhere said against this assumption.¹³ This might, indeed, be a good opportunity of keeping ‘criticism’ to its word with respect to its concession regarding the Apocalypse. Such an attempt, however, would be but labour lost. So long as the conclusions it arrives at vary almost | from man to man, and from five years to five years; so long as it turns every defective and contorted view into an argument, it would feel much astonished at being kept to its conclusions.

If we would, however, be convinced that criticism is rushing onwards on a suicidal course, we must contemplate the ever varying and ever transient results to which it ‘advances,’ till we at length stand with it upon the dizzy height, whence it plunges into the abyss of shame. It brings the Gospels, as far as their origin is concerned, within reach of the apocryphal region, driving them from the centre to the limits of Christendom, till it finally places them in a position in which, like offended spirits, they turn and sit in judgment upon their insolent and perplexed judge.

According to Weisse, the Gospel of St John was the work of some unknown compiler, who made use of certain records, still extant, from the hand of the Apostle John, and consisting of isolated reflections relating to the life of Jesus. These reflections are themselves, however, ‘the laboured product of the disciple’s mind, in its endeavour to seize that image of his Master which was threatening to dissolve into a misty form, to re-collect its already vanishing features, and to cast them in a new mould, by the help of a self-formed or borrowed theory concerning that Master’s nature and destination:’ p. 110. The Gospel itself is said not to have been composed till a later period, and by a compiler living at a time remote from the matters it treats of.

According to Schwegler, the Gospel of St John belongs to a series of reformatory writings which, appearing about the middle of the second century, mark the commencement of a reaction against Judaism. But it was the manner of such attempts, especially when they were united with peaceful aims, to arrogate that apostolic authority which was on their adversaries’ side in favour of their own tendency, and by cutting away the ground under the feet of the opposing party, to preserve the common apostolic point of union (p. 214). Here, then, this Gospel is, in fact, but a spurious work, imputed to the Apostle John, the patchwork of an impostor opposing apostolic relations.

According to Bauer, the Gospels are poetic productions of the Evangelists, founded on the Christian consciousness of the Church. In this inventive agency, Mark has retained the largest amount of genuineness, Luke has surpassed Mark, and Matthew, Luke. ‘The fourth’ leaves all the rest behind him. ‘When a scarecrow is pulled to pieces, and the purpose for which it was set up is perceived, there is nothing more of it left,’ says he, in a pause during the process of ‘ pulling to pieces’ ‘ the history of the resurrection of Lazarus’ (Krit, vol. iii. 185). So unsuccessful, in his opinion, is the work of the fourth Evangelist. He thus also characterizes him : ‘The unnamed writer is an airy vision, an airy vision first formed by the fourth himself; and, in this instance, the fourth has for once made a lucky hit, by giving his composition such an author. At first he sought to make it appear that there was another Gospel, derived from an eye-witness, and in fact written by one. An airy vision, however, would be the only fitting author of such a writing as the fourth has handed down to us’¹⁴ Lützelberger¹⁵ exports the Gospel which has been called the heart of Christ. still further. According to him, the fourth Gospel (see Weisse) is all of a piece, in contrast to the synoptists, who exhibit a lyric, unequal appearance, and in whose writings differing tones and strange discrepancies appear. This Gospel is said to have originated in Edessa, or its neighbourhood, a distant part of Asia. ‘The author of this Gospel,’ argues the critic, ‘could not possibly have been acquainted with the form of the Gospel history, as handed down by the three other Gospels.’ But this is accounted for, when it is known ‘that it originated on the other side of the Euphrates, and therefore beyond the limits of the Roman power,¹⁶ where the influence of the churches of Jerusalem, Antioch, Alexandria, and Rome was not so considerable” Thus this Gospel is said to have arisen as far as possible beyond that sphere of existence which was more peculiarly that of the Church! The pretended polemical views of the Gospel are also said to support the assumption of the author. He finds much that is warped in the external polemical tendencies of this Gospel, because its inner nature, its idea, and the vital unity with which this is carried out, are hidden from him. First of all, for instance, the Gospel is said polemically to oppose John’s disciples. ‘It is shown with all possible care, that John the Baptist absolutely declared, that not himself but Jesus was the Christ’ ‘It must, however, be remembered, that the Sabzeans, or disciples of John, were spread over Galilee, Syria, and the farther parts of the Parthian region, since they still exist in Persia.’ The Gospel is further said to oppose the Docetæ (p. 276). Now Syria and Mesopotamia were well known as the special seats of Docetism. The author therefore ought, in fairness, to have shown how it happened that, in a church which was originally’ thoroughly Docetic, a Gospel should have originated, spread, and been accepted, which entirely opposed this tendency. ‘The author, however, is so little acquainted with the specific nature of Docetism as a necessary result of that dualistic principle, which opposes to the good principle, the evil principle existing in matter, that he further on makes the author of the Gospel himself a Docetic. The earthly, the coarse material, is in this Gospel that which is opposed to the divine, which is subdued and subjected to the power of evil, to the prince of the world (p. 284). ‘The doctrine of the Logos, or the doctrine of the good Lord of heaven, necessarily introduced the opposite doctrine of the evil Lord of the world:’ p. 286. And. this Evangelist, who is thus himself a Docetist, is said to have opposed Docetism. This is the position whence ‘criticism’ plunges into the abyss!

The pious Hans Sachs, after long misconception and abuse, found an ‘ apologist’ in Gothe, when he said,

‘In Froschpfuhl all das Volk verbannt,

Das seinen Meister je verkannt.ʼ

The misconception and ill-treatment which ‘the fourth’ has so often experienced in our days, will perhaps soon call forth a general disposition in theology and science to apply this sentence of Göthe to those critics who have misconceived St John. At any rate these critics have to deal with a very different John from the venerable Master Hans of Nuremberg.

Notes

1. In the work, Dus Evangelium Johannes nach seinem innern Werthe und seiner Bedeutung fiir das Leben Jesu Kritisch untersucht von Dr Alex. Schweizer, the genuineness of this Gospel is, on the whole, maintained; at the same time, however, the hypothesis that this Gospel is interspersed with interpolations, which are the work of a later hand, and designed to contribute a somewhat Galilean addition, is carried out with much ingenuity. Considerable difficulties are, however, opposed to this hypothesis, even when but generally considered. It might fairly be asked, How could this Gospel have been so abundantly interpolated without this circumstance having been, at any time, or in any manner, noticed in the Church? If it had been interpolated before its propagation in the Church, John was mistaken in those to whose care he committed his work. If it were interpolated subsequently, it might be expected that manuscripts must be found which would support the original against the subsequent form of this Gospel; as, on the other hand, it is generally in this manner that subsequent additions are discovered. It may be further asked, Why should the original form be devoid of a Galilean clement? The Evangelist might indeed have had a plan which led him more especially to depict the ministry of Jesus in Judea, but could hardly have formed one which would induce him to exclude events which took place in Galilee. Was the interpolator already acquainted with the offence which modern criticism would take at the lack of the Galilean element in John, and desirous to obviate it beforehand? Could he misconceive the completeness of this Gospel? We would point to this completeness as a fact which decides the question. If it is once recognized, no place is found for admitting interpolations. The author starts with the ‘appended twenty-first chapter.’ He finds in the passage, chap. xx. 30, the formal conclusion, and considers the twenty-first chapter to be appended in a manner unprecedented in the Gospels. Now it cannot be denied, that the passage in question does form a conclusion to that exhibition of the manifestations of Christ’s glory, which were designed to call forth faith in Him, But it may be asked, whether the fundamental idea which guided the Evangelist in the composition of this Gospel, might not admit an epilogue, as a counterpoise to the prologue which introduced it. The prologue sets forth the eternal life of Christ, preceding His appearance in the world; the epilogue seems intended to represent His spiritual government in the world, as it was to continue after His return to the Father. To the prehistoric life of Christ, John the Baptist is the chosen witness. In conformity with his custom of representing the general by significant particulars, the Evangelist names him only, though many more testified to the coming of Christ. To His post-historic life the disciples Peter and John testify, as two strongly contrasted representatives of all the conflicts and triumphs of the kingdom of God. In the life of Peter, Christ specially manifests Himself as the ever present Lord of His Church ; in the life of John, as the Lord of glory who will shortly return from heaven. Such an epilogue completes the circle, in which the end of this Gospel significantly and definitely unites with its beginning, the prologue. ‘The author then proceeds upon the assumption that the verses 24, 25 of chap. xxi. are an addition by a later hand,—an assumption which we will admit without discussion. This concluding remark, however, is next said to show that the appended narratives are from the same later hand. ‘ He is conscious of having appended a narrative, and therefore assures us that it would be possible to make an infinity of insertions.” We may, however, rest assured, that any one who felt it possible to narrate so much, would not have contented himself with the addition of one narrative to the Gospel, when he had, moreover, once made a beginning ; while, on the other hand, he would hardly have selected from his materials a narrative so emphatically a concluding one. Secondly, it is said that John could not himself have corrected the report circulated among the disciples in the manner indicated. Why not? All that is done is to set aside a false and superficial interpretation of a deeply significant saying of Christ, and this can by no means appear ‘word-splitting, even though it does not at the same time give the correct meaning. Thirdly, the narratives are said to be of a legendary kind, and not related in the style of the Apostle John. But let, ¢.7., chap. xxi. 7 be compared with chap. xx. 4, and how minutely are they in accordance! Such a transaction as here takes place between Christ and Peter, could not possibly have arisen in the realm of the legendary, nor was there any of the disciples who would have so entirely understood and preserved its whole depth, power, and tenderness, as John. With respect to the style of this paragraph, Credner, after enumerating the expressions which are not in the style of this apostle, in the paragraph chap. vii. 23-viii. 11, says, ‘ Chap. xxi. presents appearances of an entirely different kind. There is not one single external testimony against it; and regarded from an internal point of view, this chapter exhibits almost every peculiarity of John’s style.’ The passage chap. xix. 35-37 is further regarded as an interpolation. Here the Perfect μεμαρτύρηκε is thought striking. But the Evangelist might well thus express himself with reference to the fact, that as an Evangelist he had, throughout the course of a long life, laid great stress upon this striking circumstance; and he designates his μαρτυρία as ἀληθινὴ,, because as believing testimony, it had been united to and penetrated by its object. It was because his μαρτυρία had this veracity that ‘he knoweth that he saith true’ (ὅτι ἀληθῆ λέγει). The constant vigour and accuracy of his memory is derived from his living in the truth. Nor can the choice of the adjective ἀληθινὸς be regarded as a mark of want of genuineness. The addition ἵνα καὶ ὑμεῖς πιστεύσητε is certainly striking, and can only be explained by the fact, that John attributed great importance to the circumstance that the legs of the crucified Jesus were not broken (ver. 33). That this circumstance should strike him as a wonderfully minute coincidence between the treatment of the typical, and the history of the true Paschal Lamb, and should be a powerful confirmation of his faith, is entirely consistent with the ‘ideal’ John; and this ‘external matter’ could scarcely seem to him anything else but a real manifestation of so specially ideal an incident. The importance attached by this Evangelist to the recognition that Christ was the true antitype of the paschal lamb (chap. i. 29, 36, vi. 53, &c., xiii.), appears from several passages of this Gospel. Hence it must have been significant in his eyes, that even this solitary fact, that the legs of the crucified Saviour were not broken, should designate Him as the Paschal Lamb. Why should not this sense for the significant have been specially characteristic of John, whose custom it ever is to seize the general in the particular, in the decidedly concrete, or whenever a clearly purposed symbolism offers the opportunity? The paschal lamb was the sacrificial repast of travellers, of fugitives; it referred to non-ritual sacrifice. This circumstance was specially expressed by the fact that it was roasted whole, that a bone of it was not broken (Ex. xii. 46). This symbolical trait was repeated in the case of the corpse of Jesus. It also was not treated according to law by the civil authorities, and still less sacrificed according to the Levitical ritual ; but was a sacrifice which, during the most violent storm of the world’s history, was offered ‘ without the camp,’ in strict historical reality, for the redemption of His people. This agreement between the type and the reality is so speaking, that another than John would scarcely have remarked upon it—Among lesser interpolations this author further includes chap. xviii. 9. The words ἵνα πληρωθῇ seem to him to be not happily applied to the passage John xvii. 12, because here a bodily, there a spiritual, preservation is spoken of. ‘This intermixture or confusion of bodily with spiritual destruction, is in glaring opposition to the thoughtful and ideal tone of this Gospel.’ But what if, in their bodily preservation at this time, the Evangelist saw the pledge of their spiritual preservation, as was in fact the case? (comp. John xii. 36; Luke xxii. 31, 32.) Offence is further taken at the remark of the disciples (xvi. 30), that Jesus knew all things, because it relates to the fact that He anticipated their objections and questions. The apostle, however, is here pointing out an important moment, namely, that in which the light first burst upon the disciples, that Jesus must leave them. It dawned upon them, however, by means of the disclosure in ver. 28; and in the fact that Jesus had given them certainty by this disclosure, they recognized the omniscience of His insight of the uncertainty of their minds, and of the depths of truth —Chap. ii. 21, 22 is also said to testify to ‘ the same alien spirit’ he author first considers the interpretation of the words (ver, 19) λύσατε τὸν ναὸν τοῦτον,, &e., which John gives in ver. 21 as his own (‘ But He spake of the temple of His body’), as incorrect. He asks, Could John have so expounded them, and moreover have called this the exposition of the disciples, when the correct meaning—viz., ‘the destruction of the Jewish form of the theocracy, and the establishment of a purer one’—appears in Acts vi. 14, &e.?2 The difficulty which exegetes have for some time found in this passage disappears at once, when it is considered that, from the evangelical point of view, the destruction of the Old Testament theocracy and the destruction of Christ's body must appear identical. It was only by the death of Christ that the Old Testament form of the theocracy was legally dissolved (Rom. vii. 4). The Jews could not put Christ to death, without at the same time spiritually casting a brand into their temple. From that time forth it was doomed to destruction, and the Old Covenant abolished. It could not have been legally abolished in any other manner than by condemning Christ by a hierarchically legitimate proceeding. John therefore perceived here also, the deep relation between type and antitype—The critic then proceeds to the examination of the longer passages which he regards as interpolated ; among which he reckons the miracle at Cana (ii. 1-12), the healing at Capernaum (iv. 44-54), the miracle of the loaves and fishes (vi. 1-26)—i.e., the history both of the miracle itself, and of the return across the lake.

First, the miracle of Cana is said to stand in opposition to what is said, chap. i. 52, of the greater works of Christ which were to follow the σημεῖον, ver. 51. This miracle, however, can hardly oppose the expectation of those greater works of Christ, which had been previously excited, The first argument rests upon a view of the meaning of miracles, according to which a distinction is made in an abstract manner between these and the agency of Christ upon the sage may, however, be easily maintained, by attributing an inaccuracy of expression to the Evangelist. Jesus departs from Samaria as a traveller to Galilee in general. He does not take up His abode in Nazareth, His πατρίς strictly speaking, and that from the motive stated in ver. 44. At all events, πατρίς must be limited to His native town. For the sphere of a prophet’s continual disparagement cannot be His native country, but only His native town. If then we are obliged to concede an inaccuracy of expression, it is more easily explained by the style of John, who everywhere deals in parentheses, than by supposing an interpolator beginning his matter with a contradiction (vers. 44 and 45). The passages, ver. 46, in which Cana is again designated as the place where Jesus made the water wine, and ver. 54, where this striking miracle is said to be the second that Jesus did when He was come out of Judea into Galilee, are also said to be doubtful. These traits are, however, among those which Weisse regards as peculiarities of style in the fourth Gospel. According to Weisse, therefore, these very traits are decisive for the genuineness of the passage. So inconsistent are the humours of critics! Ver. 48 is said to be still more difficult. ‘How could this man, who travelled with so much confidence towards Jesus, in the expectation of a miracle, such as had not yet been seen in Galilee, have deserved from Jesus such a rebuke in answer to his believing request ?’ He was indeed one of those many inhabitants of Capernaum who would never have concerned himself about Jesus, who had taken up His abode among them, unless a domestic calamity had arisen ; and the rebuke is expressed as mildly as possible. The man is actually corrected in a threefold manner by Jesus: first in his request that He would hasten back with him ; then in his second, that He would heal his son in His usual way ; thirdly, in his assertion that his son was at the point of death. he first need of the painfully excited father was tranquility of mind, and a faith reposing on the quiet means of unexpected help. Jesus gives him this faith ; hence the use of the word τέρατα in His reproof. It is not till he acquiesces in the form of help which Jesus points out, that he proves himself possessed of true faith. Finally, this narrative is said to be a parallel to that of the centurion in the synoptic Gospels (Matt. viii. 5), but far more indistinetly related. Too much stress is, however, laid upon the external resemblances of the two narratives ; and the decided contrast they exhibit is lost sight of, when they are looked upon as identical. The centurion of the earlier Gospels merely states his distress: he is too humble to solicit Jesus to make a long journey for his sake, and too believing to think this necessary. He is almost shocked when Jesus makes him the offer of coming to heal his sick servant. In what an opposite spirit does the nobleman of St John’s Gospel approach Jesus ; and hence how different is the treatment he meets with! The internal character of both histories is decisive with respect to the question of their diversity. It is as little possible to confound this βασιλικὸς with the ἑκατόνταρχος, as to take two men whom we might meet at different places one after another, and whose countenances were entirely different, for the same persons, because they both perhaps wore a red collar to their coats. For the rest, this miracle is not described merely as the second Galilean one, but as the second which Jesus wrought in returning from Judea to Galilee.

Lastly, with respect to the feeding of the multitude (vi. 1-26), it is said, first, that the miracle itself is abruptly introduced, in marked disharmony with what precedes, and in internal disconnection with what follows. It is certainly striking that the Evangelist should so suddenly change the scene. ‘Jesus was teaching in the temple at Jerusalem, ver. 47. Suddenly, and without mention of any return to Galilee, chap. vi. 1, after an indefinite μετὰ ταῦτα, continues with ὰπῆλθεν τιΙ-πέραν τῆς θαλάσσης τῇς Γᾳλιλαίας,’ &c. The author’s opinion is, that the passage chap. vi. 1-26 is interpolated in the discourse which Jesus, according to chap. v., delivered in the temple, and that the discourse chap. vi. from ver. 27 to the close of the chapter, is connected with the former, and was consequently spoken in Jerusalem. If, however, we view the Gospel under this assumption, and omit the supposed interpolation, we shall find the change of scene quite as sudden as before. At the close of the fifth chapter, we find Jesus still in the temple at Jerusalem; at the beginning of the seventh, we are informed that ‘after these things Jesus walked in Galilee ;’ and then, immediately thereafter, He goes again to Jerusalem ; and we hear nothing of His ministry in Galilee. Thus the choice offered us is, whether we accept, according to the existing text, the sudden change of scene, with a sojourn in Galilee filled up with occurrences; or, according to the hypothesis, an equally sudden change of scene, with a sojourn utterly barren of events. We passover the isolated expressions which are said to recall the synoptists; the indefinite τὸ ὄρος finds, indeed, the contrast which defines it, in the shores of the lake. The narrative is next said to be contradictory of what follows it. ‘How strange is it, that the men who had been so miraculously fed, and so struck by this deed of Jesus, that they (ver. 15) desired to take Him by force and make Him a Messianic king, should, on the very next day, encounter Him with “What sign (σημεῖον) showest Thou then, that we may see and believe Thee?” And how still more incomprehensible is it, that they should (ver. 31) just hit upon the thought that a miracle similar to the manna would suffice them!’ We can point, however, to something equally ‘strange’ in the eighth chapter, where it is said, ver. 30, that ‘many believed on Him,’ and in ver. 37, that Jesus said, ‘ye seek to kill Me.” Is not this contradiction greater? Here, however, if is to be referred to no ‘interpolator;’ but the return of such characteristic ‘ singularities’ rather points to a peculiarity of view in this Evangelist, and consequently testifies to the genuineness of the present passage. That these people are so ‘strange,’ is the very fact which the writer desires to represent, Jesus Himself reproaches them with it in the words, ‘Ye seek Me, not because ye saw the miracles, but because ye did eat of the loaves and were filled.” The author finds this saying striking ; but it evidently arises from the thought, that the miraculous meal has two sides: as a miracle, it attracts the higher sense, by means of its spiritual element; as a meal, however, it attracts the common sense, by means of its utility. To these utilitarian, the miracle of Jesus must have appeared less than that of Moses, not merely because Jesus had made use in the miracle of a natural substratum, but because Moses had, so to speak, continuously provided for his people by the manna, and because Jesus had given them to understand that they must not seek the realization of such utilitarian ideals from Him. ‘These people, as such, are just the Ἰουδαῖοι of John, and not Israelites within the limits of Judea, or ‘the upper class and their dependants at Jerusalem, the mention of whom is said to betray that this discourse was originally delivered at Jerusalem.’ That Jesus then, should oppose to the notions of these men, who, in the chiliastic spirit of a corrupt Judaism, would have made Him a king, the doctrine of the true bread of life, is quite what might be expected, and can by no means be regarded as inconsistent with the miracle itself, as the author supposes (p. 85). According to this supposition, the saying of Jesus, ver. 27, ‘ Labour not for the bread that perisheth,’ must also deny the account of this miracle in the synoptical Gospels.

On the return across the lake, the author remarks, ‘The whole narrative, the feeding of the multitude and the return, is, in its manner, style, indefiniteness, and lack of intuitive vision, unlike the genuine writings of John ;’ hereby assuming that the ordinary style of this apostle is definite and intuitive. It is, however, questionable, whether this can be affirmed of his statement of external relations in their actual connection and chronological sequence. The peculiar excellence of this apostle lies in entirely opposite qualities, and the very clumsiness of the narrative, especially vers. 22-24, might rather be adduced as a sign of the genuineness of the passage. An interpolator would have been careful to manage this crossing over more conveniently. When it is further said, ver, 16, ὡς δὲ ὀψία ἐγένετο, and ver. 17, σκοτιά ἤδη ἐγεγόνει, this shows no diversity of style with the expression, οὔσης ὂψίας, chap. xx. 19. In both cases, it was intended definitively to state that it was actually night. In the latter case, this would be made more evident by the circumstance καὶ τῶν θυρῶν κεκλεισμένων; but upon the lake such a circumstance was wanting, and it was consequently necessary to use a more definite expression. ‘The five and twenty or thirty furlongs’ of ver. 19 are entirely opposed to this author’s conjecture, that the disciples, according to the meaning of the Evangelist, rowed along the northern shore of the lake, and that Jesus followed them on foot along this shore, and overtook them at a short distance from their destination, after they had been detained by the storm. If the passage across the lake, which amounted to to forty furlongs, had been only twenty-five or thirty, it would even then have been impossible that this circuitous route should have amounted only to the same number of furlongs. The πλοιάρια of ver. 23 cannot, moreover, be the ships in which the people returned, as is here believed (p. 93). The intention of the Evangelist is very clear, though his expressions are not so. When the people, on the morning after the miracle, were standing on the shore, they well knew that only one vessel had been at the disposal of Jesus and His disciples, also that only the disciples had departed in this vessel, and that Jesus was not with them. They could not, therefore, but conclude that He was still on their side of the lake, and would have sought Him there. But other ships had arrived from Tiberias, nigh unto the place where they had eaten bread, and Jesus might have used one of these for His return. As, therefore, they did not find Him, it seemed to them increasingly. probable that He had used such an opportunity of crossing, and they immediately entered the ships that they might seek Him in Capernaum.

2. A very valuable contribution towards the solution of the inquiry, whether the supper spoken of John xiii. was the last Passover which Jesus celebrated with His disciples, and that connected with it, concerning the day on which Jesus died, has been furnished by Wieseler in his Chronological Synopsis of the Four Gospels. Comp. section 5 of the above-named work: Von dem letzten königlichen Einzug Jesu in Jerusalem bis zu seinem Tode und seiner Grablegung. Die Leidenswoche.¹⁷

15) Lützelberger: Die Tradition ther den Apostel Johannes und seine Sehriften in ihrer Grundlosigheit nachgewiesen von Lützelberger, Leipzig, 1840.

16) According to Lützelberger, Matthew’s Gospel originated in Egypt, Luke’s in Antioch, Mark’s in Rome.