elaborated out of the imagination of the writer. The suggestion of the bystanders (v. 37), that he might have prevented the death, is not more probable than the continuation (v. 38): "Jesus, therefore, again groaning in himself cometh to the grave." There, having ordered the stone to be removed, he delivers a prayer avowedly intended merely for the bystanders (v. 41 ff): "And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me, and I knew that thou hearest me always: but for the sake of the multitude which stand around I said this, that they may believe that thou hast sent me." This prayer is as evidently artificial as the rest of the details of the miracle but, as in other elaborately arranged scenic representations, the charm is altogether dispelled when closer examination shows the character of the dramatic elements. A careful consideration of the narrative and of all the facts of the case must, we think, lead to the conclusion that this miracle is not even a historical tradition of the life of Jesus, but is wholly an ideal composition by the author of the fourth Gospel. This being the case, the other miracles of the Gospel need not detain us.
If the historical part of the fourth Gospel be in irreconcilable contradiction to the Synoptics, the didactic is infinitely more so. The teaching of the one is totally different from that of the others, in spirit, form, and terminology; and although there are undoubtedly fine sayings throughout the work, in the prolix discourses of the fourth Gospel there is not a single characteristic of the simple eloquence of the Sermon on the Mount. In the diffuse mysticism of the Logos, we can scarcely recognise a trace of the terse practical wisdom of Jesus of Nazareth. It must, of course, be apparent even to the most superficial
observer that, in the fourth Gospel, we are introduced to a perfectly new system of instruction, and to an order of ideas of which there is not a vestige in the Synoptics. Instead of short and concise lessons full of striking truth and point, we find nothing but long and involved dogmatic discourses of little practical utility. The limpid spontaneity of that earlier teaching, with its fresh illustrations and profound sentences uttered without effort and untinged by art, is exchanged for diffuse addresses and artificial dialogues, in which labour and design are everywhere apparent. From pure and living morality couched in brief incisive sayings, which enter the heart and dwell upon the ear, we turn to elaborate philosophical orations without clearness or order, and to doctrinal announcements unknown to the Synoptics. To the inquiry: "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus replies, in the Synoptics: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself,... this do, and thou shalt live."(1) In the fourth Gospel, to the question: "What must we do, that we may work the works of God?" Jesus answers, "This is the work of God, that ye should believe in him whom he sent."(2) The teaching of Jesus, in the Synoptics, is almost wholly moral and, in the fourth Gospel, it is almost wholly dogmatic. If Christianity consist of the doctrines preached in the fourth Gospel, it is not too much to say that the Synoptics do not teach Christianity at all. The extraordinary phenomenon is presented of three Gospels, each professing to be complete in itself and to convey the good tidings of salvation to man,
which have actually omitted the doctrines which are the condition of that salvation. The fourth Gospel practically expounds a new religion. It is undeniable that morality and precepts of love and charity for the conduct of life are the staple of the teaching of Jesus in the Synoptics, and that dogma occupies so small a place that it is regarded as a subordinate and secondary consideration. In the fourth Gospel, however, dogma is the one thing needful, and forms the whole substance of the preaching of the Logos. The burden of his teaching is: "He that believeth on the Son, hath eternal life, but he that believeth not the Son, shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him."(1) It is scarcely possible to put the contrast between the Synoptics and the fourth Gospel in too strong a light If we possessed the Synoptics without the fourth Gospel, we should have the exposition of pure morality based on perfect love to God and man. If we had the fourth Gospel without the Synoptics, we should have little more than a system of dogmatic theology without morality. Not only is the doctrine and the terminology of the Jesus of the fourth Gospel quite different from that of the Jesus of the Synoptics, but so is the teaching of John the Baptist. In the Synoptics, he comes preaching the Baptism of repentance(2) and, like the Master, inculcating principles of morality;(3) but in the fourth Gospel he has adopted the peculiar views of the author, proclaims "the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world,"(4) and bears witness that he is "the Son of God."(5) We hear of the Paraclete for the first time in the fourth Gospel It is so impossible to ignore the distinct individuality
of the Jesus of the fourth Gospel, and of his teaching, that even apologists are obliged to admit that the peculiarities of the author have coloured the portrait, and introduced an element of subjectivity into the discourses. It was impossible, they confess, that the Apostle could remember verbally such long orations for half a century, and at best that they can only be accepted as substantially correct reports of the teaching of Jesus.(1) "Above all," says Ewald, "the discourses of Christ and of others in this Gospel are clothed as by an entirely new colour: on this account also scepticism has desired to conclude that the Apostle cannot have composed the Gospel; and yet no conclusion is more unfounded. When the Apostle at so late a period determined to compose the work, it was certainly impossible for him to reproduce all the words exactly as they were spoken, if he did not perhaps desire not merely to recall a few memorable sentences but, in longer discussions of more weighty subjects, to charm back all the animation with which they were once given. So he availed himself of that freedom in their revivification which is both quite intelligible in itself, and sufficiently warranted by the precedent of so many great examples of antiquity: and where the discourses extend to greater length, there entered involuntarily into the structure much of that fundamental conception and language regarding the
