ercise the rites of hospitality. He surlily bids his friend go away. I have gone to bed, he says, and can not get up and get you a supper. The answer seems decisive; but the traveler does not accept it so; he has no idea of sleeping out-ofdoors, and going supperless to his cold bed. He continues his knocking, and the host, unable to sleep, yields at length to the importunity of his friend what he would not yield to the claims of friendship merely. It is only to those who so hunger and thirst after righteousness that they will not be denied that the promise is made that they "shall be filled." Moses had appointed, as we have already seen, local tribunals for the trial of subordinate causes, and the punishment of lesser crimes and misdemeanors.* In accordance with Roman policy, which left as far as possible the manners and customs of each province undisturbed, these were still maintained. In every town was this inferior court. These judges, in the degeneracy of the age, had already become tainted with that corruption which at the present time almost universally characterizes the Oriental judge. Christ drew from the life the picture of such a one. A disciple of the Sadducaic philosophy, he was restrained by no fear of God's future judgments. A creature, perhaps, of the Roman court, he was utterly regardless of the opinion of his fellow-townsmen. It seems idle to hope for justice from such a man. A poor widow applies at his tribunal for protection from an enemy, but, being without means to enforce her claim by a liberal bribe, she can at first get no hearing. Not discouraged, however, she persists in her petition. The judge never sits down in the gate-the Oriental court-room-that this woman does not appear before him. At length, wearied out with her importunities, he grants her tardy justice, barely to be rid of the trouble she inflicts upon him. If, says Christ, the very worst of men thus yields a hearing at last to the importu *Deut. xvi., 18; Matt. v., 22-26; Jahn's Archæology, § 243, 245; Josephus, Antiquities, iv., 8, § 14. nate, shall not God, the judge of all the earth, give to the wronged and suffering a hearing? His justice seems to delay; he seems to hear long and patiently; but he will avenge them speedily.* Thus passed the closing weeks of winter. Mingled with these private instructions were hours of prayer, preparation for Christ's approaching sacrifice. At length the Passover drew nigh. To the amazement of the disciples, Jesus proposed to go up to the feast. Already an outlaw in Judea, condemned alike by the mob and the court, it seemed to them that he was but going to certain death. Nor did his prophecies tend to reassure their fears; for, in language more unmistakable than any he had before employed, he disclosed to them that vision of his betrayal and his crucifixion, which, after all, none but he could see ;t for to him the result of this last attempt on Judaism was not uncertain. As from a mountain-top one sees spread out before him the valley he is about to enter, Jesus saw the road that was leading him to the tomb. His disciples' feet faltered. His purpose was never firmer. With the night of weeping in Gethsemane, the betraying kiss of Judas, the terrified flight of his disciples, the palace of Caiaphas, the judgment-hall of Pilate, the march to Golgotha, and the cruel crucifixion full in view; with the blaspheming denials of Peter, the fierce outcries of the mob, the bitter lamentations of the weeping women, and the taunts of soldier, priest, and people ringing in his ears, he steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem. *Luke xviii., 1-8. † Luke xviii., 31-34; Matt. xx., 17–19; Mark x., 32–34. CHAPTER XXVII. TRIUMPH.* REATEST of all the festivals of festal Judaism, the most joyous and the most solemn of them all was that of the Passover. It was the birthday of the nation. On this day Israel celebrated its divine emancipation. The story of that emancipation, as romantic as it is marvelous, is familiar to every Christianly instructed child. A world-wide interest gathers about that night, when, after a long series of judgments and mercies, of miracles that, like the mysterious cloud, looked with angry face toward Egypt, and a bright and shining one toward Israel, the long-delayed hour of deliverance drew near-deliverance of a nation of despised slaves from a nation of proud and haughty task-masters. How the Lord himself hasted through the sleeping land; how he entered every house of Egypt, from the palace to the hut; how in every one he left a dead body and breaking hearts; how every believing Jew, warned of death's coming, warded off the blow by the blood of a lamb marked on the lintel of the door; how, thus defended, the Israelites watched through the long night waiting for the promised summons, and eating their hastilyprepared meal of unrisen bread as a preparation for their long, long journey-this has been so often rehearsed in song and story that it needs no new rehearsal here.† Every year the Jews gathered in Jerusalem to celebrate by a feast of unleavened bread and a new sacrifice of a paschal lamb this hour of divine deliverance, and keep alive in * Matt. xx., 17-34; xxi., 1-22; Mark xi., 1-26; Luke xviii., 31–43; xix; John xii., 12-50. + Exod. xi. ; xii. the hearts of their children the traditions of their ancestors. It was the Fourth of July of Judaism, with this difference, that it afforded no occasion for the deification of their ancient heroes; for godless pæans in honor of liberty; for oratorical panegyrics on the memory of Moses. God was the founder of their commonwealth. Their praise was paid to God alone. But the Holy City No true patriot suffered himself to be absent from the Feast of the Passover. If we could believe the Oriental figures of Josephus, three millions sometimes gathered about the Temple during this week of prayer and praise.* The walls of Jerusalem inclosed an area of about one square mile. That a population three times that of New York city could have been crowded into a space less than that of some of its upper wards, overtaxes our credulity. was doubtless crowded to its utmost. outdid itself. Every house became a caravanserai. Every door was thrown open to the strangers. The court-yards were filled. The roofs of the houses became bed-chambers. The city overflowed its walls, and the surrounding hills were dotted with the tented encampments, gathering as near the Temple of Jehovah as the city walls permitted; while from every house and every tent arose, morning and evening, praise to Jehovah," whose mercy endureth forever." The month of March had come, and with it the Passover. The roads were filled with companies of pilgrims marching with their wives and children to the city, where alone the feast of unleavened bread could be observed. Nature itself, emancipated from the brief winter, seemed, with its dress of fresh green, and its bursting buds and blossoms, to share the festivities of the nation. Among all these traveling companies none was more joyous than that which thronged, unbidden, about the Galilean Rabbi. His road lay through Jericho. That city was indeed what its name indicates, a city of fragrance. The plain which constituted its environs was an oasis of green, in the *Josephus, Wars of the Jews, ii., 14, § 3; iv., 9, § 3. midst of high and barren limestone mountains. The spring. which Elisha miraculously cured* made the earth a marvel of fertility. It was literally embowered in fragrant vegetation. It was a favored and favorite city of antiquity. The income from its palm and balsam was thought by Antony to be a present worthy of being conferred upon his royal mistress, Cleopatra. It was chosen as the site of a royal residence by Herod the Great, who built here a palace, and met here his death. The tax-gatherers of the Jordan valley, whose fertility the frosts of winter never checked, had here their headquarters. The priests of Jerusalem found underneath its shade-trees a quiet retreat when their priestly labors in the Temple at Jerusalem were over. Thus commerce and religion met here without mingling. It was a city of priests and publicans. Among these latter was Zaccheus, a chief among publicans; that is, he was a farmer of the public revenues, an officer answering to our district tax-collector. He belonged to an ancient Jewish family. His name held an honorable place among the archives of the period of the Restoration. had acquired great wealth in his calling; and Rome had done what she could to make him respectable in the eyes of his fellow-townsmen by constituting him one of the equestrian order. He But society closed her doors against him. The priest that passed him on the street gathered his flowing robes together that he might not suffer the accidental pollution of his touch. The children of his Jewish neighbors would not play with his children in the street. Rarely did a Rabbi darken his door. Despite his wealth, his family, his Gentile nobility, he was an outcast. For the aristocracy of Judaism was an aristocracy of relig ious patriotism. Society was exclusive, as where is it not? The shibboleth which admitted to it could never be pronounced by one who suffered Gentile contamination. In the 2 Kings ii., 19-22. Neh. vii., 1. |