a demonstration of power and goodness with unrelenting hearts? Unthankful Malchus! and cruel soldiers! ye were worse wounded, and felt it not. God had struck your breasts with a fearful obduration, that ye still persist in your bloody enterprise. "And they, that had laid hold on Jesus, led him away," &c. CONTEMPLATION XXX. — CHRIST BEFORE CAIAPHAS. THAT traitor, whom his own cord made soon after too fast, gave this charge concerning Jesus: "Hold him fast.' Fear makes his guard cruel; they bind his hands, and think no twist can be strong enough for this Samson. Fond Jews and soldiers! if his own will had not tied him faster than your cords, though those manacles had been the stiffest cables or the strongest iron, they had been but threads of tow. What eyes can but run over to see those hands, that made heaven and earth, wrung together and bruised with those merciless cords to see him bound, who came to restore us to the liberty of the sons of God! to see the Lord of life contemptuously dragged through the streets, first to the house of Annas, then from thence to the house of Caiaphas, from him to Pilate, from Pilate to Herod, from Herod back again to Pilate, from Pilate to his Calvary! while, in the meantime, the base rabble and scum of the incensed multitude runs after him with shouts and scorns! The act of death hath not in it so much misery and horror as the pomp of death. And what needed all this pageant of cruelty? Wherefore was this state and lingering of an unjust execution? Was it for that their malice held a quick dispatch too much mercy? was it for that, while they meant to be bloody, they would fain seem just? A sudden violence had been palpably murderous; now the colour of a legal process gilds over all their deadly spite, and would seem to render them honest, and the accused guilty. This attachment, this convention of the innocent, was a true night-work: a deed of so much darkness was not for the light. Old Annas, and that wicked bench of greyheaded scribes and elders, can be content to break their sleep to do mischief: envy and malice can make noon of midnight. It is resolved he shall die; and now pretences must be sought that he may be clearly murdered. All evil begins at the sanctuary: the priests and scribes and elders are the first in this bloody scene; they have paid for this head, and now long to see what they shall have for their thirty silverlings. The bench is set in the hall of Caiaphas; false witnesses are sought for, and hired; they agree not, but shame their suborners. Woe is me! what safety can there be for innocence, when the evidence is wilfully corrupted? What state was ever so pure as not to yield some miscreants, that will either sell or lend an oath! What a brand hath the wisdom of God set upon falsehood! even dissonance and distraction : whereas truth ever holds together, and jars not while it is itself. O Saviour! what a perfect innocence was in thy life, what an exact purity in thy doctrine, that malice itself cannot so much as devise what to slander! It were hard if hell should not find some factors upon earth. At last two witnesses are brought in, that have learned to agree with themselves, while they differ from truth; they say the same, though false: "This fellow said, I am able to destroy the temple of God, and build it again in three days.' Perjured wretches! were these the terms that you heard from that sacred mouth? said he formally thus as ye have deposed? It is true, he spake of the temple, of destroying and building, of three days: but did he speak of that temple, of his own destroying of a material building in that space? He said, Destroy ye: ye say, I am able to destroy. He said, This temple of his body; ye say, The temple of God. He said, I will make up this temple of my body in three days: ye say, I am able in three days to build this material temple of God. The words were his, the sentence yours: the words were true, the evidence false: so, while you report the words, and misreport the sense, ye swear a true falsehood, and are truly forsworn. Where the resolutions are fixed, any colour will serve. Had those words been spoken, they contained no crime: had he been such as they supposed him, a mere man, the speech had carried a semblance of ostentation, no semblance of blasphemy. Yet how vehement is Caiaphas for an answer; as if those words had already battered that sacred pile, or the protestation of his ability had been the highest treason against the God of the temple. That infinite wisdom knew well how little satisfaction there could be in answers, where the sentence was determined: "Jesus held his peace." Where the asker is unworthy, the question captious, words bootless, the best answer is silence. Erewhile, his just and moderate speech to Annas was returned with a buffet on What heed is to be taken of men's judgment? so light are they upon the balance, that one dram of prejudice or forestalment turns the scales. Who were these but the grave benchers of Jerusalem, the synod of the choice Rabbis of Israel? yet these pass sentence against the Lord of life: sentence of that death of his, whereby, if ever, they shall be redeemed from the murder of their sentence. O Saviour! this is not the last time wherein thou hast received cruel dooms from them that profess learning and holiness. What wonder is it if thy weak members suffer that which was endured by so perfect a head? what care we to be judged by man's day, when thou, who art the righteous Judge of the world, wert thus misjudged by men? Now is the fury of thy malignant enemies let loose upon thee: what measure can be too hard for him that is denounced worthy of death? Now those foul mouths defile thy blessed face with their impure spittle, the venomous froth of their malice: now those cruel hands are lifted up to buffet thy sacred cheeks: now scorn and insultation triumph over thine humble patience: "Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, who it is that smote thee." O dear Jesu, what a beginning is here of a passion! There thou standest bound, condemned, spit upon, buffeted, derided by malicious sinners. Thou art bound, who camest to loose the bands of death; thou art condemned, whose sentence must acquit the world; thou art spit upon, who art “fairer than the sons of men;" thou art buffeted, the cheek: now, his silence is no less displeasing. Caiaphas was not more malicious than crafty: what was in vain attempted by witnesses, shall be drawn out of Christ's own mouth; what an accusation could not effect, an adjuration shall: "I adjure you by the living God, that thou tell us, whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God." Yea, this was the way to screw out a killing answer. Caiaphas, thy mouth was impure, but thy charge was dreadful. Now, if Jesus hold his peace, he is cried down for a profane disregarder of that awful name: if he answer, he is ensnared; an affirmation is death; a denial, worse than death. No, Caiaphas, thou shalt well know, it was not fear that all this while stopped that gracious mouth: thou speakest to him that cannot fear those faces he hath made; he that hath charged us to confess him, cannot but confess himself: "Jesus saith unto him. Thou hast said." "There is a time to speak, and a time to keep silence." He, that is the Wisdom of his Father, hath here given us a pattern of both. We may not so speak, as to give advantage to cavils: we may not be so silent as to betray the truth. Thou shalt have no more cause, proud and insulting Caiaphas, to complain of a speechless prisoner: now thou shalt hear more than thou demandest: "Hereafter shall ye see the Son of Man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven." There spake my Savi our; "the voice of God, and not of man." Hear now, insolent high-priest, and be confounded. That Son of Man, whom thou seest, is the Son of God, whom thou canst" in whose mouth there was no guile;" not see: that Son of Man, that Son of God, that God and Man, whom thou now seest standing despicably before thy consistorial seat, in a base dejectedness, him shalt thou once, with horror and trembling, see majestically sitting on the throne of heaven, attended with thousand thousands of angels, and coming in the clouds to that dreadful judgment, wherein thyself, amongst other damned malefactors, shall be presented before that glorious tribunal of his, and adjudged to thy just torments. Go now, wretched hypocrite, and rend thy garments; while, in the meantime, thou art worthy to have thy soul rent from thy body, for thy spiteful blasphemy against the Son of God. Onwards thy pretence is fair, and such as cannot but receive applause from thy compacted crew: "What need have we of witnesses? behold, now ye have heard his blasphemy. What think ye? And they answered and said, He is guilty of death." thou art derided, "who art clothed with glory and majesty." In the meanwhile, how can I enough wonder at thy infinite mercy, who, in the midst of all these woful indignities, couldst find a time to cast thine eyes back upon thy frail and ungrateful disciple, and in whose gracious ear Peter's cock sounded louder than all these reproaches? O Saviour! thou, who, in thine apprehension, couldst forget all thy danger, to correct and heal his over-lashing, now in the heat of thy arraignment and condemnation, canst forget thy own misery, to reclaim his error: and, by that seasonable glance of thine eye, to strike his heart with a needful remorse. He that was lately so valiant to fight for thee, now, the next morning, is so cowardly as to deny thee: he shrinks at the voice of a maid, who was not daunted with the sight of a band. O Peter, had thy slip been sudder., thy fall had been more easy; premonition aggravates thy offence: that stone was CONTEMPLATION XXXI. — CHRIST BEFORE foreshowed thee whereat thou stumbledst; | cheeks channels that shall never be dried! neither did thy warning more add to thy" And Peter went out and wept bitterly." guilt, than thine own fore-resolution. How didst thou vow, though thou shouldst die with thy Master, not to deny him! Hadst thou said nothing, but answered with a trembling silence, thy shame had been the less. Good purposes, when they are not held, do so far turn enemies to the entertainer of them, as that they help to double both his sin and punishment. Yet a single denial had been but easy: thine, I fear to speak it, was lined with swearing and execration. Whence then, O whence, was so vehement and peremptory disclamation of so gracious a Master? What such danger had attended thy profession of his attendance? One of thy fellows was known to the high-priest for a follower of Jesus, yet he not only came himself into that open hall, in view of the bench, but treated with the maid that kept the door to let thee in also. She knew him for what he was, and could therefore speak to thee, as brought in by his mediation: "Art not thou also one of this man's disciples ?" Thou also supposest the first acknowledged such; yet what crime, what danger, was urged upon that noted disciple? What could have been more to thee? Was it that thy heart misgave thee thou mightst be called to account for Malchus? It was no thank to thee that that ear was healed; neither did there want those that would think how near that ear was to the head. Doubtless, that busy fellow himself was not far off, and his fellows and kinsmen would have been apt enough to follow thee, besides thy discipleship, upon a bloodshed, a riot, a rescue. Thy conscience hath made thee thus unduly timorous: and now, to be sure, to avoid the imputation of that affray, thou renouncest all knowledge of him in whose cause thou foughtest. Howsoever, the sin was heinous. I tremble at such a fall of so great an apostle. It was thou, O Peter, that buffetedst thy Master more than those Jews; it was to thee that he turned the cheek from them, as to view him by whom he most smarted: he felt thee afar off, and answered thee with a look; such a look as was able to kill and revive at once. Thou hast wounded me, mayst thou now say, O my Saviour! "Thou hast wounded my heart with one of thine eyes;" that one eye of thy mercy hath wounded my heart with a deep remorse for my grievous sin, with an indignation at my unthankfulness; that one glance of thine hath resolved me into the tears of sorrow and contrition. O that mine eyes were fountains, and my PILATE. WELL Worthy were these Jews to be tributary: they had cast off the yoke of their God, and had justly earned this Roman servitude. Tiberius had befriended them too well with so favourable a governor as Pilate. Had they had the power of life and death in their hands, they had not been beholden to a Heathen for a legal murder. I know not whether they more repine at this slavery, or please themselves to think how cleanly they can shift off this blood into another's hand. These great masters of Israel flock from their own consistory to Pilate's judgment-hall. The sentence had been theirs, the execution must be his; and now they hope to bear down Jesus with the stream of that frequent confluence. But what ails you, O ye rulers of Israel, that ye stand thus thronging at the door? why do ye not go in to that public room of judicature, to call for that justice ye came for? Was it for that ye would not defile yourselves with the contagion of a Heathen roof? Holy men! your consciences would not suffer you to yield to so impure an act; your Passover must be kept, your persons must be clean: while ye expect justice from the man, ye abhor the pollution of the place. Woe to you priests, scribes, elders, hypocrites! can there be any roof so unclean as that of your own breasts? Not Pilate's walls, but your hearts, are impure. Is murder your errand, and do ye stick at a local infection? "God shall smite you, ye whited walls." Do ye long to be stained with blood, with the blood of God? and do ye fear to be defiled with the touch of Pilate's pavement? Doth so small a gnat stick in your throats, while ye swallow such a camel of flagitious wickedness? Go out of yourselves, ye false dissemblers, if ye would not be unclean. Pilate, onwards, hath more cause to fear, lest his walls should be defiled with the presence of so prodigious monsters of impiety. That plausible governor condescends to humour their superstition: they dare not come into him; he yields to go forth to them. Even Pilate begins justly: "What accusation bring you against this man ?” It is no judging of religion by the outward demeanour of men; there is more justice amongst Romans than amongst Jews. These malicious Rabbis thought it enough, that they had sentenced Jesus; no more | O Pilate, how happy had it been for thee, if thou hadst held thee there! thus thou hadst washed thy hands more clean than in all thy basons. Might law have been the rule of this judgment, and not malice, this blood had not been shed. How palpably doth their tongue bewray their heart!" It is not lawful for us to put any man to death." Pilate talks of judgment, they talk of death. This was their only aim: law was but a colour, judgment was but a ceremony; death was their drift, and without this nothing. Blood-thirsty priests and elders! it is well that this power of yours is restrained: no innocence could have been safe, if your lawless will had had no limits. It were pity this sword should be in any but just and sober hands. Your fury did not always consult with law: what law allowed your violence to Stephen, to Paul and Barnabas, and your deadly attempts against this blessed Jesus, whom ye now persecute? How lawful was it for you to procure that death which ye could not inflict? It is all the care of hypocrites to seek umbrages and pretences for their hateful purposes, and to make no other use of laws, whether divine or human, but to serve turns. Where death is fore-resolved, there cannot want accusations. Malice is not so barren as not to yield crimes enough: "And they began to accuse him, saying, We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute unto Cæsar, saying, that he himself is Christ and king." What accusations, saidst thou, O Pilate? heinous and capital: thou mightst have believed our confident intimation; but, since thou wilt needs urge us to particulars, know, that we come furnished with such an indictment as shall make thine ears glow to hear it. Besides that blasphemy whereof he hath been condemned by us, this man is a seducer of the people, a raiser of sedition, an usurper of sovereignty O impudent suggestion! What marvel is it, O Saviour, if thine honest servants be loaded with slanders, when thy most innocent person escaped not so shameful criminations? Thou a perverter of the nation, who taughtst the way of God truly!-thou a forbidder of tribute, who paidst it, who prescribedst it, who provedst it to be Cæsar's due!-thou a challenger of temporal sovereignty, who avoidedst it, who renouncedst it, who professedst to come to serve! O the forehead of malice! Co, ye shameless traducers, and swear that truth is guilty of all falsehood, justice of all wrong; and that the sun is the only cause of darkness, fire of cold. Now Pilate startles at the charge. The name of tribute, the name of Cæsar, is in mention; these potent spells can fetch him back to the common hall, and call Jesus to the bar. There, O Saviour, standest thou meekly to be judged, who shall once come to judge the quick and the dead: then shall he, before whom thou stoodst guiltless and dejected, stand before thy dreadful Majesty, guilty and trembling. The name of a king, of Cæsar, is justly tender and awful; the least whisper of a usurpation or disturbance is entertained with a jealous care. Pilate takes this intimation at the first bound: "Art thou then the King of the Jews?" He felt his own freehold now touched; it was time for him to stir. Daniel's weeks were now famously known to be near expiring. Many arrogant and busy spirits, as Judas of Galilee, Theudas, and that Egyptian seducer, taking that advantage, had raised several conspiracies, set up new titles to the crown, gathered forces to maintain their false claims. Perhaps Pilate supposed some such business now on foot, and therefore asks so curiously, "Art thou the King of the Jews?" He, that was no less wisdom than truth, thought it not best either to affirm or deny at once. Sometimes it may be extremely prejudicial to speak all truths. To disclaim that title suddenly, which had been of old given him by the prophets, at his birth by the Eastern sages, and now lately at his procession by the acclaiming multitude, had been injurious to himself; to profess and challenge it absolutely, had been unsafe, and needlessly provoking. By wise and just degrees, therefore, doth he so far affirm this truth, that he both satisfies the inquirer, and takes off all peril and prejudice from his assertion. Pilate shall know him a King, but such a King as no king needs to fear, as all kings ought to acknowledge and adore: "My kingdom is not of this world." It is your mistaking, O ye earthly potentates, that is guilty of your fears. Herod hears of a King born, and is troubled; Pilate hears of a King of the Jews, and is incensed. Were ve not ignorant, ye could not be jealous; had he learned to distinguish of kingdoms, these suspicions would vanish. There are secular kingdoms, there are spiritual neither of these trenches upon other your kingdom is secular, Christ's is spiritual; both may, both must stand together. His laws are divine, yours civil: his reign is eternal, yours temporal: the glory of his rule is inward, and stands in the graces of sanctification, love, peace, righteousness, joy in the Holy Ghost; yours in outward pomp, riches, magnificence: his enemies are the devil, the world, and the flesh; ; yours are bodily usurpers, and external peace-breakers: his sword is the power of the Word and Spirit, yours material; his rule is over the conscience, yours over bodies and lives; he punishes with hell, ye with temporal death or torture. Yea, so far is he from opposing your government, that, "by him ye kings reign:" your seeptres are his; but to maintain, not to wield, not to resist. O the unjust fears of vain men! He takes not away your earthly kingdoms, who gives you heavenly; he discrowns not the body, who crowns the soul; his intention is not to make you less great, but more happy. The charge is so fully answered, tnat Pilate acquits the prisoner. The Jewish masters stand still without: their very malice dares not venture their pollution in going in to prosecute their accusation. Pilate hath examined him within, and now comes forth to these eager complainants, with a cold answer to their over-hot expectation: “ I find in him no fault at all." O noble testimony of Christ's innocence, from that mouth which afterwards doomed him to death! What a difference there is betwixt a man as he is himself, and as he is the servant of others' wills! It is Pilate's tongue that says, "I find in him no fault at all:" it is the Jews' tongue in Pilate's mouth, that says, "Let him be crucified." That cruel sentence cannot blot him, whom this attestation cleareth. Neither doth he say, I find him not guilty in that whereof he is accused; but gives a universal acquittance of the whole carriage of Christ" I find in him no fault at all.” In spite of malice, innocence shall find abettors. Rather than Christ shall want witnesses, the mouth of Pilate shall be opened to his justification. How did these Jewish blood-suckers stand thunder-stricken with so unexpected a word! His absolution was their death, his acquittal their conviction. "No fault," when we have found crimes? "no fault at all," when we have condemned him for capital offences? How palpably doth Pilate give us the lie! how shamefully doth he affront our authority, and disparage our justice! So ingenuous a testimony, doubtless, exasperated the fury of these Jews: the fire of their indignation was seven-fold more intended with the sense of their repulse. I tremble to think how just Pilate as yet was, and how soon after depraved; yea, how merciful, together with that justice. How fain would he have freed Jesus, whom he found faultless! Corrupt custom, in memory of their deliverance from Egyptian bondage, allowed to gratify the Jews with the free delivery of some one prisoner. Tradition would be encroaching: the Paschal lamb was monument enough of that happy |