The invention of them is far more improbable than the reality. If the anointing mentioned by Luke commands acceptance from us, in virtue of the dearest and most lovely traces which it bears of the Saviour's mind and heart, that recorded by the other evangelists (Matt. xxvi. 6-13; Mark xiv. 3-9; John xii. 1-11) has the recommendation of being witnessed by the beloved disciple himself, and of being specially adapted to the peculiar position in which the affairs of Christ then stood.

On this most interesting occasion it was that Judas seems to have first formed a definite resolve of treachery. At least, immediately succeeding their account of it, Matthew and Mark place the narrative of that wretched man's baseness. He had probably heard how the Sanhedrim had issued orders for the apprehension of Jesus. At any rate, his selfish soul was disturbed at the sight of this display of affection.

Thievish in his nature (John xii. 6), he would like to have clutched all the money the ointment had cost, and could not refrain from exclaiming against what to him was a pure waste. But villany must have a cloak; and so Judas frames his tongue to plead the cause of the poor. Yet this is the man whom some have endeavoured to shield from the epithet 'traitor.' The worst sense of that word is not too bad to describe his wickedness. By John he was clearly accounted most base. When, then, Judas witnessed Mary's costly proof of loving reverence, Why,' said he, was not this ointment sold and the proceeds given to the poor? It would have fetched three hundred denarii.' The denarius, we have seen, was the wages of a day-labourer in the time of Jesus. If we put down two shillings as the daily payment for hand labour now, we shall find the sum to be equal to £30 of our present money, or the wages of three hundred labourers. This was a rich gift. It shows that the family at Bethany were in easy, if not affluent circumstances, and inasmuch as the present was approved by Jesus, it shews also that costly gifts, as tokens of love towards God and his service, are proper in themselves and acceptable in the sight of Him from whom all treasure comes. To the Jew this precious ointment was an offering as natural as it was appropriate. He was accustomed to offer to God the finest wheat, the richest oil, lambs without blemish, and oxen in full perfection. It is only our modern habits that make us think with Judas that a better appropriation of the ointment might have been made. If, however, we were to feel and to act on the conviction that the best we have is too poor an oblation for Jehovah, we should render a higher service to ourselves than to his cause, and advance both our religion and our happiness. As it is, however, many of us dwell in cieled houses' (Hag. i. 4) and marble halls, and are content to see the house of God poor, if not mean.

The 'evil eye' of Judas made him wish for the value of the

ointment. It might have been given to the poor. By some means, he had become the treasurer of the evangelical company. He had, indeed, no true care for the poor. Like too many other professed followers of Jesus, when he spoke for the poor he meant himself, and what was given for the poor he turned to his own purposes. The dark incident is not without its light, disclosing, as it does, the fact that even among the needy band of which he who had no home and no resources was the head, a purse was kept, out of which disbursements were made to such as were more needy than themselves. Such is the benign effect of the presence of Jesus, if he is in our hearts and in our homes, little of this world's goods as we may possess, he will lead us to set apart something for the relief of others. Only let judgment in giving be combined with a generous spirit.

CHAPTER II.

JESUS ENTERS JERUSALEM AS THE MESSIAH, AND, HAVING GONE INTO THE TEMPLE, RETURNS IN THE EVENING TO BETHANY.

Sunday, 10th of Nisan, 1st day of the week, April 2nd.

The time was fully come. Jesus is prepared to claim his high office as Messiah in the face of his nation, now assembled in the capital at their great spring festival. Nature was on all sides reviving and springing forth into new and vigorous life. The scenes which were about to be enacted in the temple, would call to the mind of every well-instructed worshipper the new birth of the Hebrew race, in their rescue out of Egyptian servitude and their commencement of a truly national existence. A higher life, a brighter and a richer spring, Jesus was on the point of publicly originating.

He must proceed in the way of regular development. The new dispensation came forth from the old one. Christianity was the offspring of Judaism. Its head, therefore, though destined to become the Teacher of the whole world, held to his Hebrew alliances. The Saviour of mankind was the Jewish Messiah. Therefore he observed, as well as fulfilled, 'all things written in the law and the prophets concerning him.' Among these words we thus read (Zech. ix. 9):

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!
Shout, O daughter of Jerusalem !
Behold, thy King cometh to thee;
He is just and victorious,

Mild, and riding upon an ass,

Even upon a colt, the foal of an ass.

Having, then, with those who were around him, quitted Bethany, in order to enter Jerusalem as the Messiah, Jesus passed by Bethphage (house of figs'), another village which seems to have stood on the southern slope of Mount Olivet, rather better than a mile from Jerusalem. Arrived at this spot, Jesus sent two of his disciples to procure the foal of an ass which had not been used for riding. The ass in these parts is a far superior animal to the poor misused creature with which we are here acquainted. In the East he is distinguished for beauty, spirit, and sureness of tread. The latter quality fits him especially for riding on over a broken, stony soil. It was an old opinion that unused animals were more fit for sacred purposes than used ones. We have also just seen that the Messiah was expected to come riding on a young ass. The disciples accomplished their Master's request. They brought a foal. Having arrayed the animal with cloaks taken from their own persons, they set Jesus on the ass. The happy hour had come! They were full of joy and expectation. Their enthusiasm was shared by the crowd. Multitudes around him strewed his way with their garments and branches of trees cut for the purpose on the spot. The feeling had reached the city, for lo! as the procession wound down the western side of the Mount, another body of people came from Jerusalem, bearing, as tokens of victory, palm-branches in their hands, and, as they advanced to welcome the Christ, the universal Prince, singing, 'Hosanna! blessed is the King of Israel, that cometh in the name of Jehovah' (Psalm cxviii. 25, 26).

Amid this jubilant multitude one heart was sad. Jesus saw how hollow all this was. He had, indeed, striven to make his entry as little obtrusive and imposing as possible; for though firm for duty, he shrunk from arousing jealousy or wounding prejudice. But the popular excitement ran high, and seemed to be getting beyond bounds. Jesus knew that the multitude understood not his objects, and that even his disciples had a very faint conception of the nature of his pretensions. This glad and warm exultation, therefore, would quickly pass away, like a hand's-breadth of vapour from the summer sky. He knew also that weeping and gnashing of teeth' would come afterwards. Therefore was he sad at heart. Stopping, he surveyed the city, and wept while he said, 'O that thou hadst known, thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong to thy peace! But now they are hid from thine eyes.' And, his mind darting forward to the siege of the city by the Roman armies, he added, 'For the days will come upon thee that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee; and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another, because thou knowest not the time of thy visitation.'

Y

As Jesus proceeded amid the exulting shouts of the people, some Pharisees who were there watching the scene, unable any longer to restrain themselves, requested Jesus to silence his disciples, whom they regarded as the leaders of the popular favour. Well did Jesus reply from the Scriptures-intending to show the propriety of the present exultation-I tell you, that if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out. Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou hast perfected praise' (Ps. viii. 2).

Passing the brook Kedron, Jesus entered Jerusalem on its eastern side, and, as is believed, by what was called 'the Golden Gate.' Surrounded by a believing and joyous multitude, he went up to the temple. The conviction and the joy had a special basis. Long, indeed, and various had been the preparation, and many were the considerations which had united to secure the popular sympathy. But the raising of Lazarus, as a recent and well-attested event, was on every one's tongue. Here was a fact which could not be denied. There, in that village, which might be reached in half an hour, lived Lazarus, who had died and was buried. Go question him and his sisters, if you still doubt.' Meanwhile, the Pharisees saw how unavailing were the devices which they took to stop the rapid current. Sighing in themselves, they said, as for a moment they unwillingly yielded to the stream, 'Behold, the world is gone after him!'

Among those who had come up to the feast were some Greeks, proselytes to Judaism, who, having heard of Jesus, desired to see him. This request led the Lord to speak in distinct terms of his approaching death. Doubtless, it was grievous to Jesus thus to interrupt and darken the flow of joy in his disciples' minds. Duty required it. 'You,' he in effect said, 'you think the hour of my glory come. It is come, but in a different way from what you imagine. A grain of wheat before it sprouts and gives forth the germ of a new life, dies down and seems to perish. So must suffering and death precede the glorious life which I am introducing. You are surprised and grieved. Now is my own soul troubled; troubled to witness your disappointment, troubled at what is about to come to pass. And what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour? No! for this cause came I to this hour. Rather will I say, Father, glorify thy name.' Then came there a voice from heaven, saying, 'I have both glorified and will again glorify it.'

'How is this?' asked the wondering people. The Messiah abideth for ever, but thou speakest of thy death.' 'Even so is it,' rejoined Jesus, 'even so; learn of me, the true Light, and the true interpreter of the Scriptures and the will of Heaven; learn of me speedily, for the time is short.' Some offence seems to have been taken at these words, so full of paradox to the ordinary Jewish mind. Jesus, however, having made a general

survey, and ascertained the state of public feeling, hid himself from his auditors, and in the evening returned to Bethany (Matt. xxi. 1-9; Mark xi. 1-10; Luke xix. 29-44; John xii.).

While in the temple, Jesus may have been reminded that this was the day for the selection of the paschal lamb (Exod. xii. 3). He himself, the true sacrifice, had this day entered the city, a willing offering in fulfilment of the Divine Will. Now, then, 'is the judgment of this world; now shall the prince of this world be cast out; and I—if I perish, I perish that all may live.' The thought, full as it was of grand results, seems to have been the special cause of our Lord's present disturbance.

CHAPTER III.

JESUS, PROCEEDING EARLY IN THE MORNING TOWARDS JERUSALEM, PRONOUNCES JUDGMENT AGAINST THE BARREN FIG-TREE, CLEANSES THE TEMPLE, AND GOES BACK TO BETHANY.

Monday, 11th of Nisan, 2nd day of the week, April 3rd.

The morning came. Eager to be about his Father's business, Jesus left Bethany before the hour of morning prayer, and so, according to custom, without taking food. As he went forward he was hungry. Seeing a fig-tree at a distance bearing leaves, he went to it, hoping to find food. He found none. He pronounced a condemnation on the tree: it withered away. The disciples saw and wondered. 'How soon,' they the next day exclaimed, is the fig-tree withered away!' Hereupon, Jesus spoke to them of the necessity and power of faith (Matt. xxi. 18, 22; Mark xi. 12—14).

The fig-tree was common in Palestine. Growing by the wayside, it, agreeably to law and custom, afforded refreshment to the traveller, who was at liberty to pluck what fruit he wanted. The figs grow from the branches, bearing the bloom within themselves. There are three kinds of figs. 1. The spring-fig (Bokor) appears in March, even before the leaves, and is ripe in June,in some cases earlier. 2. The summer fig (Karmus) appears in June, and is ripe in August. 3. The winter fig appears in August, and is found ripe even after winter has stripped the tree of its leaves. This third kind are larger than the others, and, if the winter is not severe, they are found on the tree even in spring. The fruit of the fig is sweet and wholesome when ripe;