prominently mentioned, and it would not accord with the contented return home of the disciples. Accepting the latter sense, it is instructive to observe the very small amount of evidence with which "the beloved disciple" is content. He simply finds the sepulchre empty and the linen clothes lying, and although no one even speaks of the resurrection, no one professes to have been an eye-witness of it, and "as yet they know not the scriptures, that he must rise again from the dead," he is nevertheless said to see and believe.
It will have been observed that as yet, although the two disciples have both entered the sepulchre, there has been no mention whatever of angels: they certainly did not see any. In immediate continuation of the narrative, however, we learn that when they have gone home, Mary Magdalene, who was standing without at the tomb weeping, stooped down and, looking into the sepulchre,—where just before the disciples had seen no one,—she beheld "two angels in white sitting, one at the head and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus lay. 13. They say unto her: Woman, why weepest thou? She saith unto them: Because they took away [———] my Lord, and I know not where they laid him."(1) This again is a very different representation and conversation from that reported in the other Gospels. Do we acquire any additional assurance as to the reality of the angels and the historical truth of their intervention from this narrative? We think not. Mary Magdalene repeats to the angels almost the very words she had said to the disciples, v. 2. Are we to suppose that "the beloved disciple," who saw and believed, did not communicate his conviction to the others, and that Mary was left
precisely in the same doubt and perplexity as before, without an idea that anything had happened except that the body had been taken away and she knew not where it had been laid? She appears to have seen and spoken to the angels with singular composure. Their sudden appearance does not even seem to have surprised her.
We must, however, continue the narrative, and it is well to remark the maintenance, at first, of the tone of affected ignorance, as well as the dramatic construction of the whole scene: v. 14. "Having said this, she turned herself back and beholdeth Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. 15. Jesus saith unto her: Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing that it was the gardener, saith unto him: Sir, if thou didst bear him hence, tell me where thou didst lay him, and I will take him away. 16. Jesus saith unto her: Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him in Hebrew:(1) Rabboni, which is to say, Master. 17. Jesus saith unto her: Touch me not [———]; for I have not yet ascended to the Father: but go to my brethren, and say unto them: I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and my God and your God. 18. Mary Magdalene cometh announcing to the disciples that she has seen the Lord, and he spake these things unto her."(2) To those who attach weight to these narratives and consider them historical, it must appear astonishing that Mary, who up to the very last had been closely associated with Jesus, does not recognise him when he thus appears to her, but supposes him at first to be the gardener. As part of the evidence of the Gospel, however,
1 This is the reading of the Vatican and Sinaitic codices,
besides D and many other important MSS.
such a trait is of much importance, and must hereafter be alluded to. After a couple of days not know Jesus whom she had daily seen for so long! The interpretation of the reply of Jesus, v. 17: "Touch me not," &c, has long been a bone of contention among critics, but it does not sufficiently affect the inquiry upon which we are engaged to require discussion here.(1) Only one point may be mentioned in passing, that if, as has been supposed in connection with Mt. xxviii. 9, Jesus be understood to repel, as premature, the worship of Mary, that very passage of the first Gospel, in which there is certainly no discouragement of worship, refutes the theory. We shall not say more about the construction of this dialogue, but we may point out that, as so many unimportant details are given throughout the narrative, it is somewhat remarkable that the scene terminates so abruptly, and leaves so much untold that it would have been of the utmost consequence for us to know. What became of Jesus, for instance? Did he vanish suddenly? or did he bid Mary farewell, and leave her like one in the flesh? Did she not inquire why he did not join the brethren? whither he was going? It is scarcely possible to tell us less than the writer has done; and as it cannot be denied that such minor points as where the linen clothes
