Christ it was under the tetrarch Philip. Herod the Great built there a temple in honour of Augustus; and his son Philip, just mentioned, restored the fallen Paneas, and, out of respect to the same emperor, called the place Cesarea-adding the epithet Philippi (of Philip), in order to distinguish it from Cesare'a Palesti'na, which stood on the Mediterranean. The city lay not far from what is generally accounted the chief source of the Jordan, and was the metropolis of Trachoni'tis, which formed the larger part of the tetrarchy of Philip. When the gospel began to prevail, a Christian church arose there, over which in time a bishop presided.

We do not know that our Lord entered the city itself; but he visited its dependencies (Mark viii. 27). While doing so, he led Peter to make the memorable declaration that 'Thou art the Christ,' on which, and not on Peter, on which, as the fundamental principle of the gospel, he avowed his intention of building his church. This declaration in truth was a Hebrew form of declaring that Jesus was a man sent from God-a great Prophet in whom God had visited his people-the great and divinelycommissioned Teacher and Saviour of mankind, who, in possession of the divine wisdom which from eternity was with God, so as to be God himself, was sent by his light and his love, his life and his death, to redeem the world, making God known to man, and reconciling man to God (Acts ii. 22, v. 31; John i. 1-14). Now also it was, when his disciples had formed a less insufficient idea of his real character, that Jesus, urged and driven by his enemies, and vividly foreseeing his approaching end, began in a distinct and emphatic manner to raise their minds to a higher spirituality, by teaching them that his mission involved suffering and death on his part, and that his glory as the Messiah would shine forth only as a result of previous humiliation. He would rise again when he had been rejected and slain by the elders and priests. The doctrine was most offensive to Peter, who, in his rash and impetuous temper, forgetting his recent avowal, began even to rebuke his Lord. Then was it that Jesus, having cast a significant look on the other disciples, said to Peter, 'Get thee behind me, Satan; for thou regardest not the things that be of God, but the things that be of men.' Following up the tenor of his lesson, the great Teacher then enunciated the sublime doctrine of self-sacrifice which he exemplified in his agony and death in so affecting a manner: 'Whosoever is anxious to save his life, will lose it; but whosoever may lose his life for my sake and the gospel's, the same will save it. Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me' (Matt. xvi. 13-28; Mark vii. 31, viii. 27, 38).

Leaving Cesarea Philippi, Jesus travelled to some part in the vicinity of the Sea of Galilee, and, taking ship, proceeded to Dalmanutha (wretched dwelling). This was a town or village

in the eastern territory of Manasseh, lying in a district of the same name, somewhere on the south-eastern shore of the lake. The place was wholly destroyed by the Romans, and as yet no remains by which the locality might be identified have been discovered. In this neighbourhood Jesus received a visit from Pharisees and Sadducees, who, sent probably by Herod Antipas with a view to ensnare him, desired a sign from heaven in attestation of his Messiahship. Mark, with his usual regard to particulars, reports that on the occasion, before he answered them, Jesus sighed deeply in his spirit. This is a graphic touch-the stroke of a master, presenting the kind, thoughtful, grieved spirit of Jesus before us in a word. And who can fail to love one who thus felt and pitied human frailties? Who, moreover, does not see that this seeking after signs, outward and visible proofs of Christ's mission-proofs after our own desires, not God's ordinations-this demand for credentials, instead of taking acquiescingly and thankfully the evidence that God gives, cannot be, and is not, in harmony with the mind of Jesus, which is the will of God? And what wonder if to them who do not make the best of the light they have, more light is not given?

Jesus refused the application. He had already given signs enough. He was every day giving signs. He was himself the great sign, token, and seal of the hand of God. This morbid and untractable temper was not to be encouraged. They loved the external, and compliance with their request would make them love it more. Better was it for them to reform their lives, in order that, the eyes of their understanding becoming clear, they might see the manifest proofs of God's presence which Jesus afforded every hour. At present they had no sight for spiritual things. With their carnal minds they could discern the face of the sky foretelling the weather, but were not able to read the clear signs of the times, though they betokened a great social change. Reproof was more needed than evidence; and having administered reproof, and made a vague allusion to his coming death and resurrection by reference to Jonah, the Saviour sent them away, in the hope that if ever they came again, it would be hungering and thirsting after righteousness, when assuredly they would be filled (Matt. xvi. 1—4; Mark viii. 10—13).

As Jesus and his friends were passing over the lake, his disciples found that they had in their boat not more than one loaf. Communicating the fact to their Master, in the hope, probably, of receiving a supply, they received instead an important lesson. Christ's mind was still full of the events just spoken of. He was also alive to a sense of his danger at the hands of Herod. Seizing, as was his custom, the opportunity offered, he bade his attendants beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod. His disciples, with minds little more elevated than the Pharisees and Sadducees themselves, failed to comprehend

his meaning. Accordingly, intimating to them how easy it was for him to give them bread, seeing, as they knew, he had just fed four thousand, and not long before five thousand, hungry persons, he distinctly informed them that their danger lay, not in the want of food, but in the temptations and falsehoods of the Jewish sectaries, and in the snares and pitfals of the wily Herod (Matt. xvi. 5-12; Mark viii. 14—21).

About the same time, Jesus, on a visit to Bethsaida, gave sight to a blind man. Contrary to his practice, he first led the man out of the town. This secrecy he may have sought from prudential considerations, endeavouring, as he now was, to keep out of Herod's hands. In effecting the cure, Jesus used spittle, and put his hands on the sufferer. By these means he seems to have intended to draw the man's attention to himself as the cause of his restoration to sight, and to give an emphasis to the whole transaction, in order that the man, being duly impressed, might receive that higher sight which would make him recognise Jesus as the Son of God. When the cure was accomplished, Jesus enjoined the strictest secrecy. The reason we have already seen; Herod and his fellow-plotters were around him. The man at first saw men, as trees, walking: that is, he had no distinct vision, could not discern forms or estimate distances. Such is the case with those who, having been born blind, suddenly receive sight. And in the simple description given by the Evangelist of a fact which in all probability he did not understand, we have a striking and satisfactory evidence of the reality of this miracle. Such a record could not have been invented (Mark viii. 22-26).

CHAPTER III.

JESUS IS TRANSFIGURED-CURES A LUNATIC.

Taking with him his three most intimate disciples, Peter, James, and John, Jesus withdrew into a mountain, where he could in solitude engage in prayer. As he prayed, he underwent a remarkable change, which has received the name of transfiguration. This change, according to Luke (ix. 29), was as follows: The fashion of Christ's countenance was altered, and his raiment became white and glistering. During this, two persons in human shape appeared in glory, and, talking with him, spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusalem. These two were Moses and Elias. Then followed a divine attestation; for ' a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice out of the cloud

said, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased: hear ye him.' Shortly after, Jesus, left alone, descended from the mountain, charging his companions not to tell the vision to any one until he, the Son of Man, had risen from the dead. They kept that saying with themselves, questioning one with another what the rising from the dead should mean.

The physical effect of this transfiguration was transient. Its operation, therefore, must have been on the surface. It appears to have been in the countenance; for the ethereal light accompanying the event sufficed, by its radiance, to give a bright, lustrous appearance to the garments. The same splendour may have aided in changing the appearance of the face of Jesus, which, however, owed its transfiguration chiefly, we believe, to a corresponding change of mind, which flashed its celestial brilliancy into his countenance, when it became radiant with the holy and glad light of a grand intuition seen in all its fulness, and a sublime resolution once and for all definitely formed, and thoroughly approved and loved. We are not left to conjecture as to what this truth was. The visitors of Jesus spoke of his 'decease.' The term in the original is exodus, departure. They spoke to him, therefore, of his departure from life. This depar ture, however, was surrounded by lofty historical associations and the sublimest assurances of never-ending benefits conferred on man. For as Moses had accomplished an exodus for the children of Israel, by which he redeemed them out of Egyptian bondage, and set them in the way to become a great people and the channel of God's highest communications to man, so was Jesus to accomplish a yet more momentous exodus at Jerusalem, dying, as did Moses in sight of the promised land; yet sure, as was he, to effect a deliverance which, with far more important and truly endless results, should embrace the whole world. And there were with our Lord on the mount the two agents by whom God had made Israel the great religious teacher of the world; Moses, representing the law which laid the foundation of that polity; and Eli'as, representing the prophets by whom it had been carried to the highest pitch of excellence of which it was capable. And as that polity prepared the way for the Messiah's kingdom, so did its great representatives now appear there to give their sanction to Christ, and introduce the new dispensation of 'power, love, and a sound mind.' The three in union symbolised in its three chief epochs the great scheme of Divine Providence for human salvation, corresponding in essential particulars with the three ages of man, who in his individual relations offers an epitome of the history of the race: 1, youth, the religion of Moses, denoted by its sensuousness; 2, manhood, the religion of the prophets, characterised by the predominance of mind, and a desire of 'better things to come;' 3, age, the religion of maturity-the gospel, with ripe and mellow holiness for its reward.

Jesus then, we conceive, was in this event led to recognise the relation which he bore with preceding dispensations, and the effects he would produce on coming ages. The link that connected him with the past and the future was crucifixion. So must it be. God willed, and man needed it. It was enough. Painful might the sacrifice be, but most glorious was the work, most high the office, most blissful the results! Happy, thrice happy, he who was thus chosen to die for the world, and so to accomplish an exodus which surpassed the brightest act in his country's annals, and would be an everlasting crown of rejoicing! So sublime an appointment, so blissful a redemption, filled the soul of Jesus with inconceivable delight, and threw into his countenance a 'joy unspeakable, and full of glory.'

The idea, it is true, was not wholly new. Christ had previously a conception of what his calling was. He also understood the work which he had to achieve. By degrees, and as his hearers could bear it, he had given intimations of his coming sorrows.

Immediately before this transfiguration, he had been rebuked by Peter for his clear averments on the point. Now, however, the truth of all stood in prominent features before his consciousness; and by the outward accompaniments of Moses, Elias, the bright enveloping cloud, the divine voice, recognised to be the same as that which spoke at his baptism,-by these impressive symbols, brought home to his heart with concentrated force and in ethereal brightness-the certainty that he was the Son of Man, the Saviour of the world, the desire, the hope, and the joy of all nations-this most certain fact seized on his soul with a vividness of conviction and an elevation of heart, which bore him directly up into the bosom of the Father, where, as a loving child, he gladly and rejoicingly, yet calmly, gave up all-himself, his powers, his life-in order that he might finish the work given him to do.

Nor was the vision without use for his companions. Ignorant as yet of the real nature of Christ's kingdom, they were, by what they then saw, led to converse as to the meaning of their Master's resurrection from the dead. And though their minds were slow to open, and though, when Jesus was in peril, they all forsook him, still the memory of such an event could not fade; and when events such as the death and ascension of Jesus had made all clear, they were greatly aided by the transfiguration in acquiring a clear and full idea of the relation which their Lord bore to the past and the future. The transfiguration, then, was a reality, having a symbolic design. That design mainly respected the self-destination of Jesus as the dying Saviour of man. Accord

ingly, the transfiguration holds the middle point between Christ's baptism and his crucifixion, sustaining the remoter end of the dark segment which comes from his early public ministry, and the nearer end of the bright and glorious segment which covers