Judging by the representation given in the Gospels, it does not appear that his life was in any special measure sad or gloomy. On the contrary, his circumstances were in the main conducive to a fair share of happiness. Surrounded by admiring friends of his own sex, and attended by sympathizing (perhaps loving) women, he passed from place to place, drawing crowds around him, speaking his mind freely, and receiving no inconsiderable homage. Granting that he had enemies, he was able until his prosecution to meet them on equal terms, and was not prohibited (as he would have been in most Christian countries until recent times) from proclaiming aloud his unorthodox opinions. True, this liberty was not allowed to continue for ever, but it was no small matter for him that it had continued so long. True, he suffered a painful death; but far less painful than many a humble martyr has undergone for his sake; far less painful even than those torturing illnesses which so often precede the hour of rest. Nor is it possible that his death could reflect its agonies back upon his life. His life, on the whole, seems to have been one, if not of abundant happiness, yet of a fair and reasonable degree of cheerfulness and of comfort. The notion that he had not where to lay his head is of course utterly unfounded. Not only had he his own house at Nazareth, but he had friends who at all times were happy to receive him. If he himself ever drew this sad picture of his desolation (which I doubt), he must have done it for a special purpose, and without regard to the literal accuracy of his words.

While, then, I see no proof of the peculiar sorrow ascribed to him on the strength of a prophecy, I freely admit that he had the melancholy which belongs to a sympathetic heart. His words of regret over Jerusalem are unsurpassed in their beauty. At this closing period of his career we may indeed detect the sadness of disappointment. And in the bitter cry that was wrung from him at the end, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" we look down for a moment into an abyss of misery which it is painful to contemplate; physical suffering and a shaken faith, the agonies of unaccomplished purposes, and the still more fearful agony of desertion by the loving Father in whom he had put his trust.

But Jesus, though he knew it not, had done his work. Nay, he had done more than he himself intended. After-ages saw in him—what he saw only in his God—an ideal to be worshiped and a power to be addressed in prayer. We, who are free from this exaggeration of reverence, may yet continue to pay him the high and unquestioned honor which his unflinching devotion to his duty, his gentle regard for the weak and suffering, his uncorrupted purity of mind, and his self-sacrificing love so abundantly deserve.

CHAPTER VI.
HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES.

Vast, and even immeasurable, as the influence has been which has been exercised on the course of human development by the great men of whom we have spoken, it has been equaled, if not surpassed, by the influence of the peculiar class of writings which we have grouped together under the designation of Holy Books. Of this, the last manifestation of the Religious Idea, it will be necessary to speak in considerable detail; both on account of its intrinsic importance, and because it is a branch of the subject which has not hitherto received the attention it deserves.

We have been far too much accustomed in Europe to treat the Bible as a book standing altogether by itself; to be admired, reverenced and loved, or, it may be, to be criticised, objected to and rejected, not as one of a class, but as something altogether peculiar and unparalleled in the literary history of the world. And, undoubtedly, if we compare it with ordinary literature of whatever description, whatever age, and whatever nation, this opinion is just. Neither in the poetry, the history, or the philosophy of any other nation do we find any work that at all resembles it. Nevertheless it would be a very rash conclusion to arrive at, that because in the whole field of Greek or Roman, Italian or French, Teutonic or Celtic literature, there is nothing that admits of being put in the same category with the Bible, therefore the Bible cannot be placed in any category at all. It is one of a numerous class; a class marked by certain distinct characteristics; a class of which some specimen is held in honor from the furthest East of Asia, to the extreme West of America, or, in other words, throughout every portion of the surface of the earth which is inhabited by any race with the smallest pretense to civilization and to culture. Wherever there is literature at all, there are Sacred Books. If in some isolated cases it is not so, these cases are exceptions too trifling in extent to invalidate the rule. Speaking generally we may say, that every people which has risen above the conditions of savage life; every nation which possesses an organized administration, a settled domestic life, a religion with developed and complex dogmas, possesses also its Sacred Books. If this truth has been too generally forgotten; if the Bible has been too commonly treated as something exceptional and peculiar which it was the glory of Christianity to possess, this omission is probably in great part due to the fact that the attention of scholars has been too much confined to the literature, the religion, and the general culture of the Greeks and Romans. From special circumstances these nations had no Sacred writings among them. Their religion was independent of any such authorities; and our notions of pagan religion have been largely drawn from the religions of Greece and Rome. But the Greeks and Romans were only an insignificant fraction of the Aryan race; and other far more numerous branches of that race had their recognized and authoritative Scriptures, containing in some portions those most ancient traditions of the original stock which entered into the intellectual property of the Hellenic family, in the form of mythological tales and current stories of their gods. We must not therefore be led by the example of classical antiquity to ignore the existence of these writings, or to overlook their importance.[34]

We may classify the Sacred Books to which reference will be made in this chapter as follows, proceeding (as in the case of prophets) from East to West:—

The works included in the above list,—which are more numerous than might at first appear, owing to the vast collections comprised under the titles "Vedas," and "Tripitaka,"—are distinguished, as has been already stated, by certain common characteristics. It would be an exaggeration to say that all of these characteristics apply to each one of the writings accepted by any portion of mankind as canonical. This cannot be so, any more than the peculiar qualities which may happen to distinguish any given race of men can ever belong in equal measure to all its members. Hence there will necessarily be some exceptions to our rules, but on the whole I believe we may say with confidence that canonical or sacred books have the following distinctive marks:—

A. There are certain external marks, the presence of which is essential to constitute them sacred at all.