Skip to main content

Full text of "Meleagros; The new Calvary; tragedies"

See other formats 


t  LIBRARY  OF  GOA'dRKSS.  | 


v/. 


-<< 


:L\ITEI)  states  of  AMERICA. ^^ 


-•v.-v:^ 


^       ■•-    '***,•.■" '^"-*   ' 


ho  /s^ 


MELEAGROS 


THE    NEW    OALYARY 


TRAGEDIES 


LAUGHTON    OSBORN 


/ 


NEW    YORK 

THE  AMERICAN  NEWS  COMPANY 

117,  119,  121  NASSAU  Stukkt 

M  UCCC  I.XXI 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Confess,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

LAUGH  TON      OSBORN, 

In  the  Office  of  tlie  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


MELEAGROS 


^iDcccLxvn  &  vm 


CHARACTERS 

(Eneus,     King  of  Cahjdon. 

Meleagros,     son  of  (Eneus. 

Pro'thous,  I  Princes  of  the  Couretes  of  Pleuron,  and  h'oihers 

Come'tes,     )      of  Althcea. 

Theseus,     son  of  JEgeus^  King  of  Athenm. 

Nestor,    Prince  of  Pylos. 

Ep'ochos,     son  of  Lycurgus  of  Tegea. 

Peleus,     S071  of  ^acos,  King  of  the  Myrmidons  in  Tliesscdy. 

Alth^a,    daughter  of  Thestius,  and  mother  of  Meleagros. 

Deianeira,     Meleagros'  sister. 

Cleopa'tra,     daughter  of  Idas  and  Marpessa,  and  loife  of 

Meleagros. 
Atalanta,     daughter  of  Sdiwneiis  of  Arcadia. 

Mute  Personages 
Peirithoos,     son  of  Ixion,  Prince  of  the  Lapithw. 
Anc^us,     Irother  of  Epochos. 
Telamon,     Irother  of  PeUits,  from  Salamis. 
Amphiara'os,     son  of  Oicles,  from  Argos. 
Euryt'ion,     son  of  Actor  of  Phthia. 

Other  Huntsmen.     Attendants. 


Scene.     In   the  palace   of    (Eneus   and   on    the   jilain   lefore 
Calydon. 


MELEAGROS 


Act    t  u  e    First 

Scene.      The  Hall  in  the  Palace  of  (Emus. 

Meleagros.     Althaea.     Cleopatra.     Deianeira.' 

Mel.  Care  of  my  uncles  ?     Now,  I  tliink,  O  mother, 
They  should  by  l)etter  right  take  care  of  me. 
Should  they  not,  Cleopatra  ? 

Cle.  In  due  coui-se, 
Being  l>rotheis  of  thy  mother  and  two  for  one, 
Perhaps  they  should. 

Dei.  Not  were  they  four  to  one, 
As  they  are  more,  all  counted.     In  himself 
^ly  brother,  like  Alcides,  were  a  match 
In  thews  and  valor  for  six  times  his  count, 
"Were  all  the  six  Thesti'ada?. 

Alth,  Thestius'  sons 


MELEAGROS 


Are  of  my  blood,  remember,  and  to  me 
"What  IMelea'gros  is  to  thee.     His  strength 
And  courage,  like  thy  spirit,  are  not  deriv'd 
Alone  from  CEneus.     Vaunting  them,  thou  vaunt'st 
Thy  mother's  blood  as  well. 

Dei.  But  not  her  l^rothers. 
They  are  brave,  O  mother,  and  strong,  but  not  as  mine. 
I  lack  not  daring,  and  my  chariot  wheels 
Have  outstripp'd  theirs ' ;  but  opposite  my  brother 
I  am  a  woman. 

Mel.  As  before  thy  lover. 
This  say  the  deepening  roses  of  thy  cheek. 
To  name  me,  O  sister,  in  one  phrase  with  him 
Whom  the  world  knows  already,  for  his  deeds, 
As  Heracles  ^  is  lovingly  to  praise. 
Not  wisely,  as  were  I  to  match  thy  grace 
AVith  Hera's,  or  my  Cleopatra's  charms 
With  Aphrodite's  bloom.     Would  he  were  here  !  * 
The  conqueror  of  the  Erymanthiau  boar 
Might  make  our  mother  less  anxious,  both  for  me 
And  for  our  uncles. 

Alth.  I  fear  not  for  thee. 
Thy  life  is  in  my  coffer,  and  thy  courage 
May  drive  thee  whither  it  will,  the  monster's  tusks 
Have  power  to  wound  alone. 

Mel.  'T  is  well  for  me 
I  put  no  faitli  in  fables,  or  my  fame 
For  courage  might  even  in  Deianeira's  heart, 
Wliich  knows  what  courage  is,  and  Cleopatra's, 


ACT    I.  I 

Wliich  knows  it  I'lol,  Ijc  tarnish'd.     Throw  the  brand 
Into  the  fire,  O  mother,  and  thou  wilt  see 
I  shall  not  turn  to  ashes  with  it. 

Alth.   O  son. 
Think  it  not  couraiijc  to  defy  the  gods. 
Nor  wisdom  to  discredit  the  unseen. 
The  Fates  derided  may  have  their  revenge 
By  the  dread  Furies. 

MeJ.  I  deride  them  not. 
Have  not  derided,  either  gods  or  Fates ; 
I  think  but  as  I  thought,  when  first  a  man 
I  heard  thy  story,  that  tliou  wast  dcceiv'd. 
Alth.  This  to  thy  mother  !     Saw  I  not,  heard  not  ? 

Thou  wast  then  seven  days  old ;  the  brand  was  burning ; 

The  vailed  Moera  enter' d,  none  knew  whence. 

She  gaz'd  on  thee  a  moment,  or  so  seem'd ; 

For  her  thick  pall  hung  low  and  hid  her  eyes. 

As  her  head  bent,  and  with  its  shadows  dark'd 

The  features  under.     "  His  light  of  life,"  she  said, 

And  pointed  with  one  finger  to  the  brand, 

"  Will  last  while  that  rests  unconsum'd."  ^     At  once, 

I  snatch'd  it  from  the  fire,  extinguished,  stor'd  it. 

Thou  wast  a  weakling  then,  but  from  that  night 

Didst  thrive  and  grow. 

Mel.  As  I  had  thriven  and  grown 
Were  there  not  left  one  cinder  of  the  brand. 
It  was  not  difficult  for  the  crone  to  see 
My  slender  chance  of  life,  nor  for  tliy  fear 
To  chanjje  her  figure  in  the  flickering  light 


8  MELEAGROS 


To  a  vail'd  Moeia.     Wlio  knows  not  these  hags  ? 
There  is  not  a  green  spot  in  our  mountain  land 
Where,  in  lone  hut  or  beast-deserted  cave, 
Dwells  not  some  beldam  vers'd  in  magic  arts, 
Or  so  accounted,  who  could  say  as  much 
Over  a  puny  babe,  or  look  as  dread 
In  a  half-shadow'd  chamber.     Easy  way 
Have  such  found  always  to  my  father's  halls 
Tlu-ough  the  bewilder'd  and  awe-stricken  slaves, 
Wlio  deem  them  demon-taught  or  Heaven-inspir'd, 
And  listen  to  their  mumbled  cant  as  't  were 
Dodona's  oracles. 

Alth.  Am  I  of  that  herd  ? 
Wilt  thou  deny  me  eyesight  ?     Saw  I  not 
The  distaff  in  the  fatal  sister's  hand  ? 
It  had  touch' d  the  roof,  held  upright. 

Mel.  Or  the  skies. 
I  am  glad  she  was  industrious. 

Alth.  Meleagros !  — 
Is  this  thy  brother,  Deiancira  ?     This 
Thy  husband,  Cleopatra  ?     ffineus'  son 
Should  di'ead  celestial  anger." 

Dei.  And  docs  dread, 
Or  reverence,  O  my  mother.     'T  is  but  doubt 
That  his  brave  life  should  have  its  natural  length 
Dependent  on  the  extinction  of  a  brand. 
Md.  My  disbelief,  say  ratlier.     If  the  brand 

Hold  in  its  uncharr'd  core  my  spirit  of  life, 
I  am  immortal.     Lay  it  o'er  with  pitch. 


ACT    I. 

And  in  a  brazen  coflin  bury  it  deep 

'Neath  Taphiassus,  or  bound  round  with  lead 

Sink  it  in  broad  Trichonis  or  the  Gulf, 

Or  give  it,  if  thou  wilt,  O  mother,  in  charge 

Of  branching  Acheloos,  or  the  flood 

Wliich  beais  my  wife's  unhappy  grandsire's  name,' 

It  is  all  one  ;  the  stick  will  last  forever. 

And  I  shall  never  die. 

Alth.  This  passes  patience  ! 
Wilt  thou  enrage  me  ? 

Md.  'WHiy  shouldst  thou  l)e  anger'd  ? 
Is  it  in  reason,  in  the  possil)le  bounds 
Of  what  may  happen,  that  tlie  fatal  three. 
Whose  sad  or  ternble  mien  tlie  most  high  gods 
Scarcely  themselves  behold,  should  stoop  to  earth, 
Or  one  of  them,  to  warn  thee  of  decrees 
Whose  motive  is  iuscrutal^le  and  whose  aim 
Cannot  Ije  tuna'd  aside  ?     What  is  the  child 
Of  Thestius,  though  her  mortal  sire  were  got 
By  Arcs'  self  ( which  is  no  creed  of  mine, ) 
That  aught  should  leave  Heaven's  concave,  or  ascend 
From  Hades'  realm,  to  tread  the  flat  of  Earth 
For  her  advantage  ? 

Alth.  Wilt  thou  then  deny,  — ' 
Art  thou  so  impious,  as  irreverent,  grown,  — 
That  the  great  gods  have  held  consort'  with  men  ? 
Believe  not,  if  thou  wilt,  their  deathless  blood 
Has  twice  commingled,  as  I  joy  to  think. 
With  bolh  thy  sire's  and  mine  through  Plouron's  stem,* 


10  MELEAGROS 


Their  roseate  feet  have  trod  tliis  very  hall. 
Witness  mirth-gi-sdug  Dionysus,  made 
Thy  father's  guest,  as  I  myself  beheld. 
Mel.  Believ'st  thou  that  ? 

Alth.  I  say,  these  happy  eyes 
Beheld  the  god,  as  I  look  on  him  now 
In  memory's  vision,  with  his  sparkling  orbs, 
Blue  as  the  heaven  yet  radiant  as  the  sun. 
Heart-piercing  yet  lieart- winning,  and  his  cheeks 
Through  Avhose  immaculate  skin  the  ruddy  blood 
Bli^sh'd  like  the  inside  of  the  rose's  leaf. 
Just  where  the  vein'd  red  mingles  with  the  Vv'hite 
At  the  bottom  of  the  calyx  ;  liker  that 
Than  to  the  coarser  hue  wliich  stains  our  own, 
Whose  veins  are  not  immortal.     And  as  him 
In  his  youth's  glory,  at  thy  father's  board, 
So  saw  I  since,  though  darkling  and  close-vail' d,  / 

The  Moera  in  my  chamber. 

Mel.   Or  so  thought. 
Look  not  so  vex'd,  O  mother.     K  not  the  crone, 
Age-bent  and  wither' d,  muttering  fancy'd  spells, 
The  vision  of  the  Mcera  was  a  dream 

Brought  thee  by  Hermes.     Thou  hadst  watch' d  the  brand 
With  its  faint  blaze  that  rose  and  sank  by  turns, 
And  mus'd  upon  my  feeble  flame  of  life 
Flickering  like  it,  then  slept  to  di-eam  thereon. 
Thou  shouldst  have  pray'd,  on  waking,  to  the  Sun, 
Then  let  the  extinguish' d  brand  again  take  fire 
And  spar'd  thy  coffer. 


ACT    I.  11 

Alth.  And  the  gods  ? 

Cle.  O  Meleagros  !  — 

Alth.  Check  him  not,  my  child.  — 
What  of  the  gods  ?     Doubt'st  thou  too,  that  I  saw 
Step  like  a  youthful  monarch  in  this  hall 
The  son  of  Theban  Semele  ?  saw  and  heard 
The  voice  that  ra\nsh'd  and  the  eyes  that  Ijurn'd, 
Where  by  thy  fatlier's  side  the  Zeus-begotten 
Bent  o'er  the  board  that  changeless  brow  which  shadow'd 
His  tliick  locks'  wavj'^  gold  and  took  the  food 
That  mortals  savor,  with  tlie  rose-tipt  fingers 
That  were  not  mortal,  and  ate  as  mortals  wont  ? 

Mel.  I  doubt  not  what  thou  saw'st  nor  what  thou  heard'st ; 
I  doubt  the  immortal  i^resence.     Be  not  displeas'd. 
I  speak  with  reverence,  and  I  bid  beware. 
The  world  may  put  false  meaning  on  these  tales, 

And  at  some  future  day 

Alth.  I  will  no  more  ! 
Question  thy  sire,  since  now  thy  mother's  love 
Begets  not  credence.     Cleopatra,  come. 

[Exit,  followed  hy  Cle. 

Dei.  What  words  be  these  thou  hast  spoken,  O  my  brother  ? 
Believ'st  thou  then  no  longer  in  the  gods  ? 
'T  was  not  so  alway. 

Mel.  Nor  is  now.     Believe  ? 
'T  is  my  delight  to  hope  that  they  exist. 
Therefore  it  is  I  doubt  their  mingling  here 
With  the  earth-molded  mortals  of  this  world, 
Which  die  and  make  corruption.     Tliey  whose  pride 


12  MELEAGTIOS 


So  humbles  the  divine  conceive  it  not, 

Though  they  may  thint  they  do,  when  by  themselves 

They  measure  the  gods'  faculties  and  make 

Them  slaves  to  passions  groveling  as  their  own. 

And  for  that  tale  ;  thou  dost  not  lend  it  faith, 

Tliou,  Deianeira,  with  thy  man's  heart,  thou  ? 

Del  What  shall  I  say  ?     I  know  not  what  to  think, 
Now  with  our  mother,  now  inclin'd  to  thee. 

Mel.  Fy,  thou  art  but  a  woman  after  all, 

As  thy  face  speaks  thee.     Let  such  stories  live, 

The  world  will  stretch  their  fable,  or  exiilam 

Its  mystery  haply,  in  a  plainer  age. 

Not  to  our  mother's  honor.     ]\Ieu  may  say 

Thou  gatt'st  that  fair  skin  and  bright  locks,  those  eyes, 

Piercing  yet  winning  ( in  our  mother's  phrase,  ) 

From  Dionysus. 

Bet.  Thou  thy  valor,  then. 
From  Ares  ?     That  were  malice.     Lo,  where  comes 
Our  father,  brave  and  kinglike,  though  no  god. 

Enter  CEnetjs. 

(En.  Wliat  hast  thou  said,  O  son,  to  wound  the  Queen  ? 

Mel.  Nothing,  O  father,  should  have  given  pain. 
I  doubted  of  the  brand,  whereon  my  life 
Is  made  to  have  dependence;  frightful  thought, 
Were  it  not  monstrous  !  nor  believ'd  the  gods 
Consorted  with  their  creatures,  and  my  sire 
Had  vine-crown'd  Dionysus  here  his  guest 


ACT    I.  13 

In  his  hand-ljuilded  homo,  and  at  Ins  board. 
Is  it  not  some  delusion  ? 

(J'Jn.  Wiiat  to  say 
I  know  not,  and  unfavoi'd  of  the  skies  * 
Fear  to  awake  Heaven's  anger  by  distrust. 
The  guest  was  young,  heroical,  yet  learn' d, 
And  on  the  vine  dilated  with  a  Avarmth 
Partook  of  rapture.     Claim'd  not  he  himself 
Aught  of  divinity,  but  thy  mother  saw 
More  than  a  mortal's  fire  iu  the  eyes 
Which  glow'd,  with  a  strange  light,  though  soft  at  times 
As  Cleopatra's,  while  his  voice  was  sweet 
As  shcplicrd's  breathing  in  his  oaten  pipe 
At  even-tide. 

Mel.  It  should  have  had  a  sound 
Loud  as  the  sea-shell,  or  the  trumpet's  blast 
In  battle.     Tliat  could  be  no  god. 

Giln.  There  rest. 
Thou  knowest  thy  mother's  mood.     Provoke  her  not. 
Her  love  for  thee  is  passion ;  but  like  warmth 
Colors  her  fancies.     Not  to  give  her  way 
Were  to  be  ingrate,  for  to  her  thou  owest, 
Not  me,  thy  mettled  temper.     For  the  gods, 
Doubt  not,  dispute  not.     Let  the  coming  chase 
Remind  thee  of  its  cause. 

Mel.  Why  should  the  boar 
Be  sent  of  Artemis  ?     The  gods,  I  deem, 
Are  above  human  passion,  nor  resent 
Ncfjlect  as  mortals  use.     Wliv  band  we  else 


14  MELEAGROS 


Against  the  monster  ?     Not  ten  tliousand  men, 
Were  they  all  of  our  inland,'"  and  led  on 
By  twice  a  hundred  heroes  of  such  strength 
And  fortune  as  his  who  slew  its  Crommyan  dam," 
Would  slay  or  capture  it,  if  its  force  and  fury 
Be  Heaven-directed.     Thou  wilt  see,  O  sire, 
The  bow  of  Atalanta  will  suffice. 
(En.  I  trust  more  in  thy  javelin,  O  my  son. 

But  be  thou  lieedf  ul.     Are  all  things  made  prompt 
For  our  guests'  honor  ?     Sucli  were  ne'er  assembled 
Since  sail'd  the  Argo  for  her  precious  freight; 
And  these  be  of  her  heroes,  like  thyself, 
Tliough  thou  wast  then  scarce  man. 

Mel.  All  is  well  done ; 
And  the  fair  huntress  forms  the  special  charge 
Of  De'ianeira. 

Dei.  And  tliy  own.     Thou  seem'st, 
O  brother,  to  hold  the  Arcadian  maid  more  worth 
Thau  all  the  rest. 

Mel.  More  to  be  tended,  say. 
And  more  to  be  admii-'d,  being  what  she  is, 
A  woman  and  beautiful,  yet  with  the  soul 
Of  Heracles  or  Theseus.     Thus  thou  seest 
She  is  among  them. 

Dei.  So  were  I,  nor  last 
To  lead  the  attack,  wouldst  thou  and  would  our  sire 
Yield  to  my  urgence. 

QiJn.  Hast  thou  leam'd  to  use 
The  bow  of  Artemis  by  being  betrotli'd 


ACT    I.  15 

To  dread  Alcides  ?     Grudge  not  Sclioeneus'  daughter  '* 
Her  dangerous  honors,  but  enjoy  thy  own. 
Come,  Meleagros,  let  us  to  the  gate 
To  meet  our  great  guests. 

Dei.  "Would  I  were  a  man 
To  make  one  with  you ! 

Mel.  Thou  liast  nobler  joy, 
In  being  the  chosen  of  more  than  twice  a  man. 

He  follows  (Eneiis  toward  tlie  entrance, 
loohing  hacJc  on  Demneira. 

The  Droj)  falls. 


16  MELEAGROS 


Act    the    Second 

Scene.     As  lyefore. 

CEneus.  —  Mei.eagros  ;  Theseus  ;  Atalanta  ;  Protiioxis  ; 
CoMETES ;  Anc^us  ;  Epochos  ;  Peleus  ;  Peiritiioos  ; 
Telamon  ;  Amphiaraos  :  and  others  assemlled  for  the 
hunt. 

Thcs.  Is  my  voice  ask'd  ?     This  then  my  plan.     Divide 
Lito  two  parts  our  band,  each  with  its  head : 
These  mto  two  again,  if  need  require. 
The  monster,  driven  tlius  between  us,  comes 
Perforce  to  bay.     In  tlie  great  hero's  room, 
Ye  liave  lionor'd  me  unworthy  with  command. 
Have  I  the  riglit,  assuming  then  to  guide 
One  portion,  I  would  name  King  ffineus'  son 
To  lead  the  others. 

Froth.  He  is  all  too  young. 

(En.  Not  to  have  had  experience. 

Mel.  Which  was  gain'd 
Where  Prothous  ventured  not,  albeit  I  see 
Others  are  here  who  there  were  my  compeers, 
Under  lason,'' — foremost  of  them  all 
He  who  is  kin  in  valor  as  in  blood 
To  Z('us-1)orn  Heracles,  iEgeus'  royal  son.'* 


ACT    II.  17 

Atal.  Tlic  will  of  Tlicsciis  should  alono  prevail, 
Were  it  a  meaner  choice  ;  and  if  unknown 
For  conduct  and  for  valor  to  all  else, 
Yet  in  the  judgment  of  Athene's  king 
To  be  approved,  should  be  itself  a  title 
Unquestion'd  to  command.     Wliat  then,  when  he, 
So  chosen,  so  approv'd,  hath  in  himself 
Claims  to  precedence  second  but  to  his 
The  approver's  ?     Further,  so  endow'd,  and  son 
Of  royal  ffineus  for  wliose  sake  Ave  are  met, 
Were  Theseus  now,  as  Heracles,  away, 
None  should  command  l»ut  Meleagros  sole. 

Pi'otJi.  It  is  a  woman's  word.     A  woman's  right 
To  si)eak  at  all,  where  men  of  men's  affairs 
Hold  covuisel,  might  ])e  question'd ;   but  what  claim 
Has  Schoeneus'  daughter  to  consort  with  us 
Who  are  not  women,  but  the  sons  of  men  ? 

Atal.  I  am  indeed  a  woman  in  form  ;  my  sire 
Had  for  my  sex  the  same  disdain  as  thou.  '* 
With  what  cause  knows  Arcadia,  ancient  nurse 
Of  valiant  men,  where  none  who  boasts  a  beard 
Would  venture  to  deny  the  smooth-cheek'd  girl 
A  claim  to  heart-strength  equal  to  Jiis  own. 
Take  thou  my  ))ow.     Thou  mayest  l)cnd  it  well: 
But  canst  thou  drive  the  arrow  to  the  mark 
So  straight  as  I  I     Thou  art  more  strong  of  limb : 
But  is  thy  foot  so  fleet  ?     Against  tlie  boar 
If  one  of  thy  Couretes  shall  advance, 
Or  thou,  so  close  as  I,  or  if  thy  spear 


18  MELEAGROS 


Go  deeper  than  my  shaft's  head  in  his  side, 
Break  thou  my  bow,  and  whip  me  with  its  string, 
And  put  a  distafE  in  my  nerveless  hand, 
As  braggart  and  the  woman  wliich  thy  spleen 
Dares  make  me  only. 

CEn.  'T  is,  though  proudly  said, 
Said  justly.     All  are  welcome  here  who  come 
With  courage  for  the  task.     And  who  brings  more 
Than  Schceneus'  offspring  ?  who,  save  Theseus  sole, 
Is  fitter  by  exjDerience  for  this  chase 
Than  the  Parrhasian  huntress  ? 

Thcs.  Fitter  none. 
The  beast  of  Crommyon,  was  it  even  the  dam 
Of  Calydon's  terror,  miglit  of  fortune  give 
One  eminent  instance,  but  no  constant  proof 
Of  skill  for  this  emi^rise  as  doth  her  life. 
Which  from  its  cradleless  laabehood  has  till  now 
Been  in  consort'  or  conflict  with  wild  beasts ; 
Nor  sounds  the  ivory  quiver  on  her  shoulder  '* 
Less  fatal,  when  she  walks  the  forest  glade, 
Than  that  of  Artemis.     This,  for  her  skill 
In  fight  with  savage  creatures.     Ask  we  then 
For  proof  of  courage  such  as  fits  a  man 
In  strife  with  men,  we  need  but  call  to  mind 
Hylseos,  Rhcecos,  Centaurs,  whom  she  slew 
To  vindicate  her  virtue.     'T  was  a  deed 
Not  Prothous,  none  of  us,  could  well  surpass ; 
And  its  bare  mention  fires  the  youthful  blood 
Of  Meleagros,  and  the  scarce  more  old 


ACT    II.  19 

His  kin,  Coinotos,  from  whose  emulous  eyes 

Look  out  more  admiration  aiul  respect 

Than  wakes  mere  beauty. 

Com.  They  are  virtue's  clue 

As  well  as  beauty's.     And  if  worth  of  soul 

Bears  in  itself  a  claim  to  men's  regard, 

How  much  more,  when  the  charms  which  rarely  are 

Cocquals  wath  it,  and  not  oft  comatcs. 

Are  like  itself  exalted.     Prothous  fails 

To  make  discrimination  in  the  sex. 

Mine  eyes  are  bias'd  less ;  and  such  my  gage 

Of  Atalanta's  courage  and  her  claim 

Among  us  to  command,  tliat,  if  none  else, 

I,  I  will  follow  where  she  leads,  assur'd 

'T  will  be  to  the  thick  of  danger  and  success. 
Proth.  Thus  passion  and  the  light  of  Ijeauty's  eyes 

Blind  masculine  judgment  and  make  i^earded  men 

Overlook  their  place  and  sex-right.     I  will  not, 

Not  merely  follow  where  a  woman  leads. 

But  will  not  move  at  all  in  such  emprise 

Where  she  must  be  my  compeer. 

Mel  Wilt  thou  not  ? 

Now  by  my  father's  head,  thou  shalt ! 

ProtJi.  IshaU? 
3fel.  Ay,  thou  shalt  go  where  Atalanta  goes. 
And  be  it  given  her  to  lead,  then  thou 

Shalt  follow  with  the  rest. 

Proth.   And  this  from  thee  ? 

Thou  braggart  lioy,  who  scarce  hast  won  the  right 


20  MELEAGROS 


To  be  tlij^self  with  men 

(En.   Sto23,  Thcstius'  son. 
And  thou,  O  my  best-born,  wilt  thou  then  soil 
Thy  scarce-leav'd  laurels  with  the  dust  of  shame  ? 
Put  back  your  swords,  and  know,  that  in  these  haUs 
To  even  think  such  outrage  is  to  invade 
The  stranger's  rights  therein  and  to  insult 
Royal  ^gides,  all  who  to  our  aid 
Came  at  our  call,  and  )nost  the  maid  herself, 
The  unweetiug  cause  of  strife. 

Nest.  For  her  sake  then, 
To  whom,  though  woman,  none  will  here  impute 
Tliat  this  strife  was  engendred,  let  it  die, 
And  be  our  contest  only  who  shall  dare 
First  wound  the  monster  which  defies  us  all. 
Thes.  And  may  thy  spear,  O  son  of  Neleus,  jirove 
As  ready  as  thy  words,  which  fly  too  swift. 
Some  long  years  hence,  when  frost  is  on  thy  beard. 
And  care  and  thought  have  channel'd  that  smooth  brow, 
Thou  mayst  have  tongue.     Now,  give  thy  elders  si)ace. 
Valiant  GEnides,  and  thou.  Prince,  his  kin. 
Why  in  unnatural  bickering  waste  that  fire 
Which  hath  legitimate  and  useful  ways. 
So  many,  and  one  immediate,  to  exj^end 
Its  dangerous  power  ?     Unto  none  of  us, 
Who  are  all  here  guests  save  one,  belongs  the  right 
To  question  who  is  of  us.     If  her  sex 
Who  doth,  I  deem,  great  honor  to  our  band. 
Nor  is  its  least  adjuvant,  umbrage  gives 


ACT  ir.  21 

To  any  licre,  let  such  witlicliaw.     But  tliou, 

0  Prothous,  since  our  power  -svill  have  two  beads, 
May  choose  the  side  where  she  is  not :  yet  so, 
Thy  choice  will  flout  experience  and  make  less 
Thy  chances  of  good  fortune. 

Pi'oth.  Be  it  so  : 

1  shall  at  least  not  lessen  self-respect. 

TIlcs.  Even  as  thou  wilt,  or  think'st :  the  royal  maid, 
Rich  in  all  others'  homage,  will  not  pine. 
To  be  denied  thy  own.     But  unto  whom, 
O  Princes,  —  since  ye  all  (  Plcuronian  Prothous 
Only  except)  seem  emulous  of  tlie  joy 
To  attend  the  quiver'd  virgin ;  and  there  be. 
As  thou,  Peiritlioos,  and  the  shield-"nnde  breast 
Of  Zeus-descended  Telamon,  some  whose  eyes 
Dart  flames  like  Mcleagros'  and  the  orbs 
Of  Thestian  Comctes  at  the  thought,  — 
To  which  of  our  twin  parties  shall  belong 
Arcadian  Atalanta,  if  not  rather 
She  lead  a  third  division  of  her  own  ? 

ProtJi.  O  shame  to  manhood !  if  that  men  there  be 
To  follow  with  weapons  to  a  warlike  sport. 
Where  failure  may  be  death,  a  woman's  lead. 
Fancy  the  train !  more  fit  to  dance  in  glade 
Than  scour  the  forest.     Leto's  '^  child  herself 
Leads  nymphs,  not  satyrs  ;  and  tlie  hairy  cheek 
Should  Ijlush  to  be  so  shadow' d  from  the  sun. 

Mel.  Shame  on  thyself  !  and  let  tliy  own  cheek  blush. 
Art  thou  the  only  man,  where  all  around 


22  5IELEAGR0S 


Are  braver  than  thyself,  experienc'd  more, 
Have  oftener  cop'd  with  death,  as  has  this  maid  ? 

(En,  Forbear,  O  son ! 

Mel.  Here  in  thy  halls,  O  sire, 
Thy  son  should  shield  thy  guests  from  aU  reproach, 
Even  from  an  uncle.     But  not  hate  to  her 
Puts  on  this  shape  of  insult,  nor  disdain, 
But  jealousy  of  me. 

Froth.  Of  thee? 

Mel.   Of  me. 

Proth.  Now !  

Thes.  Likewise  thou  forbear.     And  where  ye  are 
Stand  both  of  ye.     Am  I  of  no  account  ? 
Let  fall  thy  hands  for  my  sake,  Meleagros, 
If  not  thy  sire's,  and  let  thy  sheath'd  sword  drop 
Back  to  his  custom' d  place.     Know  not  all  men 
That  thou  canst  use  it  promptly,  and  that  well  ? 
And  thou,  O  Prothous,  is  it  from  my  lips 
A  stranger  in  this  house  that  thou  must  learn 
What  honor  is  its  due  ?     By  -iEgeus'  ghost. 
He  who  first  lays  his  hand  upon  his  hilt 
Again  before  me  makes  of  me  his  foe. 
And  see,  O  son  of  ffineus,  where,  herself. 
All  ros'd  Avith  shame,  and  anger  of  hurt  pride, 
The  virgin  huntress  waits  a  chance  to  speak 
In  her  own  cause. 

Aial.  O  royal  Theseus,  thou 
King  (Eneus,  and  ye  piinces  all,  who  giieve, 
I  see  it,  for  the  slight  put  on  me  here. 


ACT  ir.  23 

Where  I  came,  not  intrusive,  but  invited 
With  the  same  flattering  urgencc  as  the  rest, 
Ye  will  not,  seeing  that  of  your  number  one 
Alone  is  hostile,  one  alone  speaks  words 
Of  insult  and  disparagement  unprovok'd, 
Look  for  response  of  other  kind  than  Avords 
Like  his  disdainful,  but,  unlike  his,  just,  — 
If  rather  I  should  not  treat  with  silent  scorn, 
As  your  looks  now  assure  me,  what  deserves 
No  notice,  commg  unprovok'd  from  him, 
From  him  to  me.     What  passion  in  his  breast 
Gave  Ate  jsower  to  stu-  up  strife  between 
His  sister's  son  and  him  because  of  me, 
I  know  not ;  for,  tUl  now,  has  been  no  sign 
Of  variance  't-\vixt  them,  or  to  me  of  spite. 
Since  our  here- coming.     Haply  't  is,  as  said, 
His  rage  that  to  his  nephew  sliould  be  given 
The  post  of  honor,  and  that  I  approv'd.  — 
Let  Mm  not  interrupt  me. 

Tlies.  No  !  that  hand 
So  wav'd  shall  be,  and  is,  a  sceptre.     I 
Am  chieftain  here,  and  tliis  is  GEneus'  house. 
Atal.  I  have  not  much  to  say.     I  came  to  aid. 

Such  was  my  thought ;  but  doubtless  too  inspir'd 

By  love  of  glory,  and  that  i-elish  habit 

Has  given  me  for  the  dangers  of  the  chase. 

I  knew  not  that  ambition  was  deny'd 

To  woman ;  and  I  had  that  pride  to  think 

I  knew  as  much  as  the  Pleuronian  prince 


24  MELEAGKOS 


Of  my  life's  practice.     And  your  murmui-s  say 

I  speak  to  the  purpose.     Thanks.     Encourag'd  thu3 

By  your  approvance,  I  might  slight,  as  sand 

In  a  summer's  gust,  the  annoyance  from  one  man 

Put  upon  me,  a  harmless  woman,  but  not 

Defenceless,  were  I  so  provok'd  to  try 

My  weapons  against  his.     But  since  my  presence 

Breeds  difference  here,  I  will  withdraw,  to  bide 

"With  Deianeira  in  tlie  women's  rooms 

The  issue  of  the  hunt,  and  then  betake  me 

Home  to  my  country. 

(En.  No  !     Hear'st  thou  that  cry 
That  echoes  me  ?  seest  thou  those  waving  arms  ? 
Thou  art  one  of  the  l^and,  and  not  the  least.     Let  him, 
Who  alone  of  all  gives  neither  voice  nor  liand 
Acclaiming,  leave  us. 

Md.  Wlierefore  ?     Let  liim  stay. 
I,  I  will  see,  that  she  who  is  tlu-on'd  among  us, 
In  our  hearts  and  eyes,  shall  suffer  no  attaint 
From  treasonous  speech  or  malice. 

TJies.   Son  of  CEneus ! 
Hold'st  thou  so  cheap  my  favor  ?     And  fear'st  thou  not 
To  rouse  once  more  the  virgin's  startled  pride 
By  thy  untoward  zeal  ?     There  is  no  cause 
For  difference.     In  our  troop  let  Prothous  take 
Position  where  he  lists.     Then  Schoeneiis'  daughter 
Will  grace  the  happier  side.     Or  ratliei-,  thou, 
Our  royal  host,  choose  wliere  the  ivory  quiver 
Shall  glitter  in  our  van. 


ACT    II.  25 

Com.  No,  let  the  maid 
Her  own  election  make.     We  yield  not,  any, 
Our  claims  to  the  honor,  to  which  all  save  one 
Aspire  witli  jealous  longing. 

ffi"/?.  So  't  were  best ; 
Fitter  for  Atalanta,  and  from  mc 
Lifting  the  biirden  of  a  difficult  choice, 
Invidious,  if  impartial. 

Thcs.   Speak  thou,  then, 
O  royal  maiden. 

Atal.  Were  my  -vvill  to  choose. 
My  place  would  be  with  thee,  illustrious  Prince, 
Peirithoos  and  the  heroes  thou  wilt  lead. 
But  Prothous  would  not  go  with  Qi^neus'  son, 
And  should  not  in  their  mutual  ire.     Thus  then, 
Scorning  comparison  with  such  as  I, 
He  would  be  lost  to  us  wholly,  where  my  will 
Would  have  him  witness  what  a  woman  dares 
And  learn  to  rate  my  quiver  by  his  spear. 
Therefore,  I  take  my  lot  with  Meleagros. 
Nor  is  it  with  regret.     No,  't  is  a  joy, 
Since  I  may.  not  exult  in  Tlieseus'  lead, 
To  follow  one  so  ardent  in  my  cause. 
Who  for  my  sake  sets  notliing  by  the  hate 
Of  his  near  km  ;  and  for  he  is  withal 
His  son  for  whom  we  are  gather' d,  and  whose  halls 
Right  royally  have  receiv'd  us,  adds  to  joy 
Contentment  as  from  duty  and  right  observ'd. 
Thes.  Blest  art  thou,  Meleagros.     On  thy  front 


26  MELEAGKOS 


I  see  akeady  Victory  lay  her  wreath  ; 
For  thou  hast  taken  from  us  our  l^est  head, 
And  our  most  dexterous  hand ;  and  Artemis, 
Though  we  make  battle  against  her  wrath,  will  stay 
Its  desolation  for  her  votary's  sake. 
(En.  Now  to  the  temple,  where  the  rites  await. 
Lead  thou,  O  son  of  ^geus,  and  thou,  son, 
Take  by  the  hand  thy  fortune.     In  her  smile 
Fate  beckons  thee  to  victory ;  though  defeat 
IVIight  even  have  relish,  shar'd  by  such  compeer. 

The  company  move  up,  Theskus 
leading,  followed  directly  by  Atalanta  and  Meleagros, 

to  tJie  entrance  of  the  hall,  CEnetjs  standing  aside. 
CoMETES   and   Nestor   heJiind,  in    the  foreground. 
Com.  He  seems  prepar'd  for  either. 

.Nest.  She  as  well. 
They  are  well  mated. 

Com.  Thou  forgett'st  Ms  spouse. 
He  has  no  right  to  look  so  radiant  here, 
Basking  in  foreign  beauty. 

Nest.  I  see  not 
That  he  has  need.     The  star  that  beams  witliin 
Is  brighter  to  my  judgment,  as  its  light 
More  fits  the  sex.     With  that  proud  eagle  nose, 
Those  fiery  eyes,  and  that  audacious  moutli, 
Sliines  Atalanta  more  a  handsome  youth 
Than  a  true  woman.'*    It  is  our  turn  to  move. 

As  Nestor  and  Cometes  go  up, 
the  Drop  falls. 


ACT  HI.  27 


Act    the    Third 

Scene.     A  remote  part  of  tTie  plain  iefore  Calydon. 

Enter 

TitESEUS  ;  Meleagros,  with  the  hide 

and  tusls  of  the  boar  ;  Atalanta  ;  PROTnous  ;  Comb- 

tes  ;    Amphiaraos  ;    PEiRiTnoos ;    Telamon  ; 

Huntsmen,  attendants  of  the  princes, 

tearing  certain  wounded,  and  th^  todies  of 

Anc^us  and  Eurytion,  which  Epocnos  and  Peleus 

accompany. 

Thes.  Here  halt  we  and  decern  the  spoil :  that  thus 
The  rightful  victor  may  at  the  very  gates 
Be  recognized  triumphant.     Ye,  who  bear 
The  sad  load  of  our  wounded  and  our  dead, 
Proceed  at  once  to  tlie  city.     Goest  thou  too, 
O  mourner  of  Ancocus  ? '°    Bear  his  head 
With  honor,  who  has  fallen  as  brave  men  fall, 
Albeit  not  in  battle.     Nor  grieve  so  much 
Over  Eurytion,  O  sad-brow'd  Peleus. 
Thine  was  an  accident  that  might  have  fallen 
To  me  or  Meleagros,  had  the  Fates 
So  will'd  it,  or  had  Phoebus  adverse  turn'd 


28  MELEAGROS 


Our  javelins  aside. 

Exeunt  Epocnos,  Peleus,  and  the 
hearers  of  the  slain. 
The  clay,  O  Mends, 

Full  of  exciting  peril,  and  not  fi'ee 

Of  loss  to  be  deplor'd,  has  issued  well. 

Though  Epochos  and  Peleus,  duty-led, 

May  not  be  heard,  yet  let  your  voice  pronounce, 

You  others,  who  among  ye,  of  all  those 

Whose  points  have  drawn  the  monster's  blood,  deserves 

Alone  the  immortal  honor  of  the  spoils. 

Ye  turn  from  one  to  another  and  look  to  me. 

Must  I  then  speak  ?     This  royal  maiden  first, 

As  was  to  be  expected,  gave  a  wound. 

Then  Amphiaraos  follow' d.°°     But  not  one. 

Nor  all  of  the  many  that  in  succession  struck. 

Avail' d  to  harm.     Sole  Meleagros'  spear 

Brought  to  a  stand  the  hunted,  and  liis  sword 

Achiev'd  the  difficult  conquest.     If  not  then 

To  Atalanta,  as  the  first  to  wound, 

Be  given  the  spoils,  they  must  of  right  be  his 

Who  overcame  and  slew  the  beast. 

ProtJi.  Not  more 

Than  I  and  others  whose  spearheads  and  broad  blades 

Were  purple  with  the  same  blood  as  dy'd  his. 
Mel.  After  his  struck  the  spring  in  wluch  ye  dipp'd  them 

And  made  its  purple  easier  to  flow. 
Proth.  Must  this  be  borne  ? 

Mel.  'T  is  truth,  and  chafes  but  thee, 


ACT   III.  29 

Not  Olcleides,  nor  those  other  chiefs 

Who  are  thy  betters,  and  who  know  my  spear 

Mixdo  safe  thy  venture.     Atalanta  sole • 

Th(s.  She  speaks,  O  Meleagros.     Let  her  voice, 

■Wliose  hand  was  foremost,  now  be  lieard  of  right, 
If  not  decide.     This  even  thy  ire,  O  Prothous, 
IMust  needs  accord. 

Atal.  Unhappy  am  I  truly, 
^Mio  have  been  the  cause  unweeting  of  tliis  strife. 
I  would  I  had  been  last  who  was  foremost  here, 
Foremost  though  not  most  skilful  nor  most  bold, 
Foremost  indeed  by  suiferance  of  him 
Who  has  proven  most  bold  and  skilful.     But  since  chance 
More  than  my  merit  wills  that  iEgeus'  son 
Should  find  I  have  some  claim  —    Peace  yet  awhile, 
Disdainful,  passionate,  and  ill-manner'd  piince  ! 
Some  claim  I  say  to  the  spoils,  I  wave  my  right, 
If  I  have  really  such  —  I  wave  it  here. 
As  is  but  simply  just,  and  to  you  all. 
To  all  save  one,  appealing,  and  most  of  all 
To  thee,  our  royal  leader,  I  ask  to  whom 
Should  fall  these  trophies,  Isut  to  him  whose  arm 
Snatch'd  them  in  victory  from  imminent  death. 
And  now  l^cars  up  theh  enormous  weight  as  stauchly 
As  if  Ijut  a  blood-wet  mantle  and  light  helm. 
TJies.  Daughter  of  Schoencus,  thou  hast  spoken  well, 
After  my  own  heart,  and  the  hearts  of  all 
Who  are  here  uulnas'd :  ^vitness  those  loud  cheers, 
Those  waving  arms,  and  glad  looks,  whereby  all, 


30  MELEAGROS 


Save  the  day's  riglitful  liero  and  his  kin, 
Token  approvance.     Keep  thou  then  the  siioUa, 

0  Prince  of  Calydon,  that  grace  thy  manhood. 
Mel.  If  ])y  the  general  will  I  dare  retain  them, 

'T  is  but  to  lay  them  at  the  maiden's  feet, 
Who  taught  the  way  to  win  them  and  inspii-'d. 
P/'oth.  She  shall  not  have  them  !  If  thou  wav'st  the  right 
Falsely  awarded  thee,  't  is  to  me  they  come. 
Next  victor  to  thyself  and  thy  near  kin, 
Not  to  thy  leman.   [Stoops  to  lift  the  sjmUs.     Mel.  sets  Ms 
foot  on  tliem. 

Md.  Dar'stthou?     Wilt  thou Then, 

Let  this  chastise  thee. 

Tlies.  Part  them. 

Pi'otli.  'T  is  too  late; 

1  have  my  death-wound. 

Mel.  Thou  hast  on  thyself 
Brought  it. 

Froth.  I  do  defy  thee,  and  would  still. 
Could  I  stand  up,  do  battle  for  my  right 
Against  thy  arrogance,  and  that  unscx'd  maid 

Who  would Avenge  me,  O  brotlier. 

Com.  Gone  ?  So  soon  ? 
Avenge  I  will :  not  thee  alone,  but  her. 
Whom,  faithful  like  her  mother  and  as  fair,^' 
Thy  murderer,  hot  with  an  adulterous  lust. 
Insults  and  seeks  to  outrage.     Come  thou  ! 

3Iel.   Stay, 
Thou  madman  and  malis?ner.     Flows  not  fresh 


ACT    III.  31 

Thy  brother's  blood  ? 

Nest.  O  priuces  !     Mighty  chief  I 
Let  them  not  fijjht ;  for  good  Althaea's  sake, 
For  generous  CEneus' ! 

Atal.  And  for  mine,  for  mine ! 
Wouldst  thou  a  second  murder  on  thy  soul, 
O  rash  Cometes  ?     No,  no  !  keep  them  back. 
Com.  Stand  from  before  him,  thou  unhappy  cause 
Of  all  tliis  strife. 

Mel.  Fear  not,  O  generous  maiden  ; 
^ly  mother's  otlier  brother  is  safe  from  me. 
Com.  From  thee  ?     Advance,  adulterer. 

TJies.  Drop  your  points, 

Both  of  you.     He  who  first 

Co?n.  Come  from  her  wing. 
Thou  skulking  paramour.     Tliis  for  Prothous'  sake. 

[sUglitly  wounding  Mel. 
Mel.  Thou  wilt  then,  ha  ?     Upon  thy  passionate  head 
Be  thy  own  blood. 

Tliey  fight,  despite  the  interposition  of  the 
princes,  and  Cometes /ctZ^s. 
Com.  'T  is  done.     And  all  of  thee, 
Hl-omen'd  virgin,  whom  I  lov'd  too  well. 
As  he  does  falsely.     Seek  not  for  revenge, 
O  my  Couretes :  I  am  —  fairly  slain.     [^Dies. 
Thes.  That  honest  wish  will  bear  no  fruit.     Already, 
Lo  where  a  teller  of  the  twofold  tale 
Makes  for  the  river. ''^     War  will  blaze  anew 
Between  fierce  Plcurou  and  her  kindred  race 


32  MELEAGROS 


Too  prone  to  quarrel,  nor  can  man  foretell 
The  setting  of  this  day  which  rose  so  fair. 
Lift  up  the  new  dead.     Look  not  so  down-cast, 
Ill-fated  Meleagros.     Shed  not  tears, 
O  Schceneus'  daughter.     Ere  to-morrow's  dawn, 
There  may  be  more  to  weep  for  than  this  wo. 

While  the  attendants  are  lifting   the  iodies, 

Meleagros  standing  near  with  head  deject, 

the  Drop  falls. 


ACT   IV.  33 


Act    the   Fourth 

Scene.     As  in  Act  I. 

Alth^a,    DEiAjsrEiRA.     Cleopatra, 

Dd.  Thou  art  not  easily  jealous,  Cleopatra. 

Thou  needst  not  be.     With  that  heart- winning  smile, 

Those  Hera  eyes,  that  skin  the  sun  burns  not, 

What  is  to  fear  in  Atalanta's  glow, 

Her  brow  imperious  and  her  manlike  mien, 

And  that  high  nose  with  curve  too  like  my  own 

To  wake  love- fancies  ? 

AWi.  Yet  Alcides  saw 
No  terror  in  its  outline ;  and  these  men 
Have  their  caprices  often  like  ourselves. 
But,  fair  Alcyone,  as  thy  mother  call'd  thee," 
That  art  as  true  as  she,  thou  needst  not  doubt 
More  than  she  did  lov'd  Idas,  whose  great  heart 
Was  not  more  sound  than  Meleagros'  own, 
"Where  beats  no  pulse  disloyal. 

C'le.  I  do  not  doubt. 
My  lord  admires  the  huntress  as  I  do, 
And  loves  her  as  I  do  love  and  all  men  must, 
True-hearted  as  she  is  and  frank  to  utter 
What  rises  from  her  heart,  and  that  alone. 


34  MELEAGROS 


He  honors  all  our  sex  in  honoring  her, 

And  I  but  love  him  more  that  he  does.     Next  his, 

May  her  hand  be  most  fortunate. 

Del.  Next  his 
It  may ;  but  not  before  his.     Where  my  brother  strides, 
And  wath  a  hostile  purpose,  Death  behind 
Stalks  as  his  servitor ;  and  save  ^geus'  son. 
And  one  more,  moves  no  hero  on  this  earth 
That  is  his  match. 

Alth.  Thy  uncles  are  as  brave. 
Though  not  so  large  of  thews. 

Cle.  That  tale,  O  mother, 
Of  Prothous'  scorn  and  Meleagros'  ire, 
Believ'st  thou  it  ? 

Alth.  Believe,  but  fear  not  therefore. 
Hot  though  of  mood,  thy  spouse  must  still  forbear 
His  mother's  blood,  nor  can  that  blood  forget 
He  is  my  son.     Proceed  we  to  the  fane. 
The  gods,  that  for  the  day's  success  receive 
Our  anxious  prayers,  will  listen  to  our  vows 
For  concord,  and  the  sacrificial  smoke. 
With  our  hearts'  incense  fraught,  make  welcome  both. 

Enter 

Epochos  and  Peleus, 

followed  ty  learei's  xoith  the  hodies  of 

AnC^US  a?ld  EURYTION. 

What  bring  ye,  princes  ?  —    Not  Anca^us  dead  ? 


ACT   IV.  35 

Eurj-tion  too  !     Alas,  we  have  been  too  slack  ! 
My  brothers  ? 

Cle.  And  my  husljand  ? 

Dei.  Mclcagros  ? 
Speak,  is  he  safe  ? 

Epoch.  Safe,  lady,  as  are  both 
Of  Thestius'  sons. 

Alth.  O  joy  for  all !  and  thanks 
To  the  most  high  gods. 

Cle.  Deep  thanks. 

Dei.  And  how  the  day  ? 
Is  the  boar  slain  ?  has  Meleagros  won  ? 
Epoch.   Our  sorrowful  duty  took  us  from  the  plain 
Wliere  they  adjudge  the  spoil.     But  (Eneus'  son 
Was  the  chief  \'ictor,  and  his  lusty  arm 
And  shoulder  bore  the  monster's  hide  and  tusks 
Even  when  we  left. 

JDei.  I  knew  it !     Who  is  like 
My  brother ! 

Cfe.  And  my  sjiouse. 

Alth.  Tliou  radiant  god, 
Whose  darts  give  absolute  death,  all  laud  to  thee, 
And  grateful  honor,  who  didst  unstring  thy  bow, 
And  shake  the  purpose  of  thy  sister's  heart 
Justly  indignant.     Thanks,  O  golden-hair'd, 
For  my  heroic  son,  for  Thestius'  sons 
My  brothers  thanks.     A  wolf  shall  smoke  to  thee, 
And  the  swart  crow  his  feathers  tinge  in  l:>lood 
Upon  thy  altar,  while  to  her,  thy  twin, 


36  MELEAGROS 


A  lamb  shall  bleat  in  saciifice.     But  oh, 
We  are  unjust,  my  daughters,  and  selfish-cruel, 
Forgettmg  the  grief  of  othere  in  our  joy. 
Ai  for  Ancaeus  !     Thou  didst  never  taste, 
As  thou  wast  told,  that  vintage,  hapless  king, 
Disdainful  of  jDresagement  like  my  son.  ^* 
How  did  he  fall,  O  EiJochos  ? 

Epoch.  Driv'u  to  his  fate 
By  his  rash  courage,  and  too  generous  pride 
Aspuing  to  be  first.     Even  whUe  he  lay 
Gor'd  with   that  frightful  wound,  —  there,  where  thou 

seest 
The  blood-soak' d  tunic  sticking  to  the  flesh,  — ■ 
He  rais'd  his  war- axe,  battling  even  in  death, 
Nor  seem'd  to  wish  my  succor. 

AltJi.  How  still  he  lies. 
How  pale,  who  was  so  flush  with  life  and  hope 
This  very  mom  !     So  may  om-selves,  when  Morn 
Again  looks  o'er  the  mountains,  be  as  pale. 
As  still.     [Pmise. 

But  thou,  why  standest  thou  so  mute, 
Bent  o'er  Eurytion,^*  gloomily  deject, 
O  son  of  Zeus-bom  ^acos  ?     Wliy  that  sign, 
Reijelling  with  thy  palm,  as  if  in  horror 
My  wistful  sympathy  ? 

Epoch.  Ask  him  not.     Thou  seest. 

Fate  tum'd  his  javelin ■     What  avail  the  love 

Of  the  immortals  and  regard  of  men. 
When  Destiny  is  adverse  ?     Hapless  Peleus 


ACT    IV.  37 

Renews  the  grief  of  his  paternal  isle,"* 
Here  by  the  Euenos ;  and 

Enter 

Servants  of  tJie  Thestiadm 

tearing  tlieir  iodies,  and  followed  hy 

Nestor. 

Alth.  More  dead ! 

Dei.  O  horror, 
Mother ! 

Altli.  Cometes  ?  —  Prothous  ?  —  Both  ?    Thou  didst 
Not  toll  of  this  !     Wliy  didst  thou  keep  it  hid  ?  — 
Accursed  day !  —     O  Prothous  !     O  my  pride  ! 
My  brave,  my  handsome  brothers !      Ai,  ai !  —    Answer  I 
Why  saidst  thou  they  were  safe  ? 

Epoch.  I  saw  them  so. 
Alth.  Saw  ?     And  the  hunt  was  over  ?     Ah !  ■ —     Speak,  thou, 
O  son  of  Nelcus. 

Nest.  Be  more  calm.     They  quarrel'd 
Ovej  the  spoil.  — 

Alth.  They?     Who?     Not  my  brothers.     ' 

Nest.  No. 

The  prince,  thy  son,  would  give  to  Atalanta ■ 

Alth.  My  son !     Did  Meleagros  do  this  deed  ?    Art  dumb  ? 
Speak  out  in  one  word.     Did  he  do  tliis  murder  ? 

O  my  brave  brothers !  —  My ! Sjoeak  it.  Was  it  he? 

Nest.  He  and  Cometes  fought.  — 

Alth.  They  fought  ?     Where  then 


38  MELEAGKOS 


Was  Protlious  ?     How  did  Prothous  fall  ? 

Murder' d  !  struck  down  by  that 

Nest.  He  us'd 
Insulting  and  despiteful  acts  and  words 

Alili.  Insulting  and  despiteful  ?     What  could  be 
The  insult  and  despite  should  arm  liis  hand 
Against  his  uncles  ?     Thou  insult' st  to  say  so. 
Murder' d,  and  foully.     They  shall  be  aveng'd. 
Here  in  your  gore,  scarce  clotted,  O  my  lov'd, 
My  brave,  my  beautiful,  I  dip  my  hands. 
And  swear  to  exact  atonement  from  that  heart 
More  savage  than  the  boar's.     Hear,  ye  Erinnyes  !  — 

Del.  Mother  !  he  is  your  son ! 

Cle.  Have  pity,  mercy  ! 

Altli.  Had  he  then  either  ?     Is  not  that  my  blood  ? 

My  father's  blood  ?     Look  there.     They  were,  this  morn, 

Active  and  brave  as  he.     But  now Look  I  look  ! 

I  will  avenge  them  ;  on  my  body's  fruit, 
Blood  of  my  blood,  I  will  have  life  for  life. 
I  swear  it  by  this  gore  which  now  I  taste, 
Press' d  to  these  lips  which  never  will  feel  more  • 
Their  known  caress.     My  brothers  !     O  my  brave ! 

Nest.  Lady,  add  not  the  terror  of  thy  vows 

To  what  is  raging  now.     Thou  hast  revenge. 
Hear'st  thou  that  din  ?     The  city  is  astir. 
The  men  of  Pleuron  are  in  battle  now 
With  thy  son's  followers  and  with  our  band 
Of  heroes  from  the  chase,  and  press  them  hard. 
I  must  be  ffone  to  assist  them. 


ACT    IV.  39 

Epoch.   Come,  O  Pelcus ; 
Thou  ■nilt  forget  thy  sorrow  in  the  fight. 
For  Theseus  and  for  CEneus  !     [Exeunt  Epoch,  and  Pel. 

Alth.  But  stay,  thou, 
Till  thou  hast  heard  me  out.     Then  bear  the  tale 
To  Meleagros. 

JVf'st.  lie  is  wounded  now.     Relent, 
Thou  mother,  though  a  sister. 

Cle.  On  our  knees, 
We  adjure  thee,  we,  his  sister  and  his  wife. 
He  has  been  driven  to  anger. 

Alth.  Driven? 

I>n.   O  mother, 
Thou  wouldst  not  have  him  wanting  in  that  fire 
Thyself  now  burn'st  with  ?     On  my  life,  my  brother 
Was  sore  abus'd.     Was  he  not,  Prince  of  Pylos  ? 
AUJi.  Let  not  the  Pylian  speak.     Look  there.     Those  lips, 
Pallid  and  speechless,  answer.     And  they  say, 
Heaven  hears  no  plea  for  mui'der.     And  to  me 
They  call,  with  their  mute  clamor.  Life  for  life. 
I  kneel  beside  you  ;  but  to  smite  the  ground 
With  this  blood-ljolter'd  hand,  and  pray  the  gods, 
Hereunder  who  respond  to  human  vows 
Like  mine  for  vengeance  upon  human  crime. 
Hear,  Hades  !  let  thy  curses  on  his  head. 
The  head  of  the  god-defying,  him  who  scoffs 
At  fate  and  prophecy,  and  sets  his  heart, 
In  its  brute  passion  and  ferocious  force, 
Above  maternal  reason  and  the  claim 


40  MELEAGROS 


Of  blood  maternal,  —  let  my  curses 

Dei.  No, 
We  will  not  stay,  nor  spouse  nor  sister,  we, 
To  listen  to  such  horror.     Be  thou  mad, 
O  mother,  in  thy  rage,  our  prayers  shall  rise     " 
To  Heaven  for  Meleagros  whom  thou  wrong' st, 
Nor  less  for  thee.     Farewell,  O  uncles.     Not  now 
Are  we  allow' d  to  weep  ye,  though  we  wail 
In  heart  your  timeless  deaths.     O  son  of  Neleus, 
Bear  to  my  brother,  with  my  mother's  wrath. 
Our  sorrow  and  our  faith.     We  know  him  guiltless 
Of  aught  but  passion  and  manly  ire. 

Alth.   Stay  both. 
Thou  took'st  from  me  all  power  to  interrupt. 
Unnatural  daughter.     Stay,  and  thou  O  prince, 
Till  I  have  shown  my  purpose.     Tell  him  then. 
What  thou  shalt  see.     I  have  his  life  in  my  coffer. 
Stay  tUl  I  bring  it ;  then  go,  to  see  him  die. 

Gle.  No,  no,  thou  wilt  not !  thou  canst  not,  O  mother  ! 

AUTi.  Cling  not  to  me.     It  is  in  vain. 

Nest.  What  wouldst  thou, 
O  royal  lady  ?     What  means  she  ? 

Dei.  'T  is  the  brand 
The  Mosra  gave,  whose  core,  our  mother  tliinks, 
Shuts  in  liis  life.     She  would  destroy  it. 

Alth.  I  will. 

Dei.  Be  not  relentless  !  for  thy  own  sake,  mother  ! 
Embrace  her  knees  with  me,  O  Cleopatra. 
Beseech  with  us,  O  Nestor. 


ACT    IV.  41 

JVest.  Be  acljur'd, 

O  thou  unhappy !     If  a  sister  thou, 

Art  thou  not  more,  a  mother  and  a  wife  ? 

Is  thy  son  guilty,  think'st  thou  that  one  crime 

O'crdocs  another  ?     All  liis  forfeit  blood 

Pour'd  on  thy  brothers  will  not  refill  their  veins, 

Nor  bring  back  to  those  ghastly  cheeks  one  flush 

Of  real  life.     Cometcs'  dying  words 

Forbad  revenge  and  own'd  him  fairly  slain. 
Alth.  It  was  his  great  soul.     But  how  fell  the  other  ? 

Speak  not.     I  have  heard  thee ;  and  I  stand  unshaken. 

Life  shall  have  life.     I  have  sworn  it  by  the  blood . 
Which  crimsons  yet  my  fingers.     Let  me  go. 
Mst.  Woman,  thou  art  unscx'd.     Hast  thou  well  thought 
There  are  gods  above  ?    Not  Hades  hears  alone 
Thy  impious  vows ;  nor  for  thee,  but  against, 
The  Erinnyes  lift  the  unsparing  scourge.     Be  wise. 
Over  that  heart  which  rages,  swells  the  breast 
Where  Meleagros  suck'd.     His  little  hands, 
Fecl'st  thou  not  stUl  their  pressure,  and  his  lijjs 
Drawing  the  stream  whose  fountain  was  thy  blood  ? 
Alth.  Ay,  and  in  this  my  body  feel  his  weight 
And  feeble  yerk  and  quiver.     But  the  blood 
Which  fashion'd  and  there  fed  him  drew  its  spring 
From  Thestius ;  and  those  there  are  Thestius'  sons. 
Thou  appeal' st,  upbraid'st  in  vain.  —    Fight  thou  without, 
O  cruel  Meleagros ;  here,  within. 
Thy  thread  of  life  is  measur'd,  and  thou  shalt  fall 
Not  by  the  foeman,  but  thy  mother's  hand.  — 


42  MELEAGROS 


Why  dost  tliou  keep  me,  thou  ?     Thou  dost  not  then 
Mock  at  my  threats,  and  disbelieve  as  he. 
The  godless  and  fate-scorning  ? 

Nest.  What  to  tliink 
I  know  not,  but  I  hold  it  folly  and  sin 
To  mock  at  destiny  or  incense  high  Zeus 
By  hesitating  faith.     Now  let  me  hence : 
The  fight  sounds  nearer.     Be  adjur'd  once  more. 
Alth.  Stay  !  but  a  moment.     Thou  slialt  not  be  deem'd 
Laggard  for  me.     Wlien  thou  hast  seen  the  brand 
Rekindled,  go  then  to  the  field  and  tell 
My  cruel  son  thou  hast  seen  his  life's  fire  burning 
Fast  into  ashes  by  Ms  mother's  hand. 

As  Altlicea  hurries  out, 
the  Br oj)  falls. 


ACT   V.  43 


Act    the    Fifth 

Scene.     As  he/ore. 

A  Irnzicr  of  live  coals.     Alth^a 

Tiolding  over  them  a  half-clinrreci  billet  of  wood. 

Nestor,  Deianeira,  a)id.  Cleopatra 

standing  near,  xoith  loolis  of  mingled  Iwrror  and  amazement. 

Alth.  Here  in  your  ghastly  presence,  butclier'd  sons 
Of  royal  Thestius,  and  yours  ye  brave  who  fell 
Not  as  they  fell,  slain  by  a  kinsman's  hand, 
I  give  to  natural  vengeance  and  to  right 
The  life  I  bare  to  nature.     Fall,  thou  brand. 
Accursed,  on  the  fire  wliere  is  your  home, 
And  whence  unwise  I  snatcli'd  you.     As  the  heat 
Consumes  your  redden'd  core,  so  shall  the  flame 
Of  a  once  loving  mother's  rage  lick  up 
Tlie  hot  blood  of  his  vitals,  till  no  drop 
Of  life  remains  in  the  veins  that  were  too  swollen 
With  pride  and  passion  to  have  natural  heat.  — 

Cle.  Have  mercy,  O  mother  !  — 

Dei.  By  the  dead  themselves 
We  adjure  thee  !  — 

Nest.  For  the  li^nng  and  the  dead. 

Alth.  Buni  quickly,  fire  ;   do  tliy  fatfd  work 


44  MELEAGKOS 


At  once,  O  brand,  and  crumble  ;  that  my  lieaii; 
May  not  have  time  to  falter,  nor  my  hand 
Snatch  thee  again  in  foolishness  away 
Ere  justice  is  accomplish' d. 

Nest.  She  is  lost 
To  reason  as  to  feeMng.     Let  us  hope 
The  gods  put  never  into  mortal  hands 
The  power  to  influence  fate.     Yet  call  the  King, 
Who  may  alone  control  her.     O  anxious  spouse 
And  sister,  I  seek  your  lov'd  one  in  the  field. 
Alth.  TeU  him,  while  thou  didst  talk  the  fire  burn'd  on. 
Tell  him,  if  yet  in  life  to  hear  thee  tell, 
I  stir  the  coals.     See.     As  these  sparks  shoot  up, 
And  fall  and  die  on  the  instant,  so,  swart  king 
Who  reignest  in  Erebus,  but  whose  sceptre  sways 
Wherever  on  Earth  men  die  ;  and  thou,  the  beautiful, 
Rapt  fi'om  bright  Enna  and  compell'd  to  share 
His  ebon"  throne,  made  pitUess  as  he  ; 
Ye  too  who  stand  at  their  right  hand  and  their  left,  — 
Ye  of  the  fireless  sacrifice  wherewith 
No  wine  is  mingled,^*  and  ye  other  three 
Who  spin  and  wind  the  thread  of  human  life,  — 
Servants  of  Zeus,  joint  agents  of  his  will. 
Remorseless  in  pursuit  of  filial  crime. 
Hear  me :   as  rise  and  fall  and  die  these  sparks, 
So  let  his  life's  fire  wholly  be  extinguish'd  ; 
Then  take  me  to  yourselves ;  for  which  I  shear 
And  give  to  the  fire  this  forelock,  unto  thee, 
Child  of  Earth-Mother,-"  that  I  may  lie  down 


ACT  V.  45 

And  sleci?  with  the  slayer  and  slain. 

As  Nestor,  wlio  Ms  leen  retreating' to  the  door, 

is  about  to  disajypear, 

Enter 

JIeleagros,  lame  on  the  arms  of  four  men 

and  followed  Inj  Atalanta. 

Nestor  tal-es  his  2)lace  ly  the  latter. 

Then  enter  {while  Althcea  speaks)  servants  with  a  low  couch, 

on  which  they  place  the  xooiinded  hero. 

Ah  !  Thou  art  come. 
Mel.  And  dying,  O  mother. 

Alth.  Dying?     'T  is  of  me. 
Seest  thou  the  brand  ? 

Mel.  I  see,  —  and  have  been  told 
Thy  unnatural  purpose.     But  my  life  flows  out 
By  twenty  wounds  made  by  the  foemen's  spears, 
More  fatal  than  my  uncle's. 

Enter  ffiNEUS. 

(En.  O  my  son !  — 

Thou  woman ! Ho  !  bring  water !     'T  is  not  yet 

Too  late  to  save  the  brand. 

Mel.  It  is  for  me. 
Let  the  wood  ))urn.     My  mother  will  weep  blood 
"When  I  am  dead,  —  and  dead,  as  she  wall  think, 
Through  her.     O  Atalanta,  let  not  tears  bestain 


46  MELEAGROS 


Thy  virgin  clieeks.     My  Cleopatra,  come 
Close  to  my  side.     Thou,  Deianeira  dear, 
Whose  brave  heart  is  too  swollen  to  let  thee  speak, 
Kiss  me.     Now  comfort  thou  our  -sire.     He  stands 
Lost,  as  thou  seest,  in  his  passion  of  grief, 
Unweeting  what  to  do.     O  cruel  mother, 
So  stem  and  pallid  o'er  thy  futile  task, 

Though  the  gods  have  not  given  thee  power  to  harm ■ 

AUh.  They  have  to  wreak  their  vengeance.     On  these  coals 
Shall  fall  no  drop  of  water. 

E7iter 
Theseus,  witTi  Pekithoos  a?i(l  others. 

Mel.  [7(«//'-ris/«^.]  Is  all  well? 

Thes.  The  foe  have  fled,  and  Calydou  is  sav'd. 
But  at  what  cost,  O  Meleagros  ! 

AUh.  Not 
The  cost  of  victoiy.     CEneus'  son  lies  there. 
Waiting  to  join  liis  uncles,  whom  he  slew 

TJies.  Not  unprovok'd,  and  one  in  self-defence. 

Atal.  With  a  man's  spirit,  resentful  of  the  wrong 
Done  to  a  guest,  a  woman  and  his  fiiend. 

Well  may  I  weep,  O  hero  :  but  for  me 

Thou  mother,  who  stand'st  so  tearless  and  so  fix'd, 
Watching  those  embers  with  that  stony  look 
As  if  thou  wast  the  Moera,  \n\t  thou  see 
Thy  only  son,  the  generous  and  the  brave. 
Pass  from  thee  unconsol'd  ?     Is  not  his  blood, 


ACT   V.  47 

Shed  for  his  sire,  his  people,  forthyself. 
Enough  atonement  ?     Vent  on  me,  the  cause, 
Though  innocent,  of  these  woes,  thy  vengeful  wrath. 
But  spai'e  to  him  one  word,  one  sign,  one  look, 
Of  pity. 

Mel.  Mother! 

Alth.  Meleagros.  —    No, 
Thou  shalt  not  see  me  weep.'°     That  tender  voice  — 
Thy  boyhood's  —  shall  not  make  mine  break.     I  have 

sworn  it  : 
Life  shall  have  life.     But  not  for  that  alone 
Thou  diest,  O  cruel ;   thou  hast  mock'd  the  gods. 
Else  would  they  not  have  sanction'd  my  revenge. 

Mel.  The  gods  that  are  liigh  aljove  us  are  too  high 
To  pimish  man  for  reason,  or  to  make 
Their  rational  worship  blasphemous.     If  my  death 
Is  other  than  the  sequel  of  my  acts 
Of  rashness  and  hot  blood,  it  is  the  due 
Exacted  for  my  ancestor,  whose  crime 
Pollutes  my  veins  through  thee,  O  Thestius'  child. 
When  thy  sire's  foresire  slew  Apollo's  sons. 
So  deem'd,  and  to  their  ravish' d  kingdom  gave 
Or  left  his  name,''  thus  for  all  future  song 

Recording  his  dishonor  and  liis  crime 

]My  breath  grows  short.  — 

Alth.  The  fire  is  dymg  out. 

(En.  Althaea ! 

Dei.  ) 

„,     >  together. ^  Mother!  

vie.   ) 


48  MELEAGROS 


(Eti.  Del.  Cle.  {nearly  together.  ]  Save  liim  ! 

Mel.  'T  is  too  late  - 
Both  for  the  brand  and  me.     If  human  gore 
Gives  solace  to  the  dead,  my  veins  arc  drain' d, 
Not  for  my  uncles,  but  Apollo's  sons. 
The  god  has  taken  us  three.  ^'^    Farewell,  O  friends  — 
And  lov'd  ones.     Blessings,  mother,  upon  thee  — • 
Even  for  thy  curses,  which  have  done  —  no  harm. 

{Dies. 
Altli.  Lo,  the  last  ember  ashes. 

Thes.  And  lo,  thy  son. 
AltJi.''''  Not  dead  ?     Thou  dost  not  say  it !     Slain  by  me  ? 
By  me  —  his  mother  !     How  his  bold  man's  lips 
Have  fallen,  which  I  have  kiss'd  so  oft.     O  quick, 
Bind  uj)  that  jaw  before  it  be  too  flx'd,  — 
And  close  those  eyes  —  those  eyes  —  which  never  more  ■ 

Never  — -  never I  cannot  do  it :  I  can  not, 

Can  not,  now  see.  —    He  bless' d  me  when  he  died  — 
Me  his  destroyer.  —    Lay  his  large  limbs  straight. 
The  curse  indeed  is  on  my  father's  house ; 

And  I  have  given  it O  my  brave  !  my  tears 

Rain  fast  enough  now,  now.     But  I  should  weep  — 
Thou  saidst  it  —  Meleagros  —  tears  of  blood. 
It  is  a  fit  atonement.     Wait  for  me  : 
Thou  too  shalt  have  life  for  life.     I  vow  it. 

\_Exit  hastily. 
Thes.  Save  her, 
Deianeira  I     Atalanta,  save  ! 


ACT  V.  49 

To  Cleopatra  leave  the  dead ;  to  me, 
The  unhaijpicst  of  sons,  the  afflicted  sire. 

AtaIjAnta  and  De'ianeira  hasten  after  Althma. 

Cleopatra  kneels,  embracing  tlie  head  of  the  hero, 

over  lohich  her  hair  falls  disheveled. 

Theseus,  stooping  tenderly,  touches  the  shoulder 

of  (Emus,  who,  with  his  head  to  the  floor, 

is  at  the  foot  of  the  couch. 

The  Curtain  falls. 
Vol.  m.— 3 


NOTES  TO   MELEAGROS 


1. — p.  5.  DeJaneira.]  The  reader  will  please  sound  tlie 
first  e  as  n  in  fate,  and  the  first  ^  as  e  in  me.  The  name  is,  I 
need  hardly  say,  the  Greek  form  of  what  we  write,  after  the 
Latins,  Dejanira,  but  sound  so  harshly,  not  in  their  way,  but  our 
own,  Dedj-a-ni'ra.  Ovid,  who  adopts  the  Greek  termination  for 
Meleagros,  also  makes  Deianira  of  five  syllables,  as  here. 

In  the  name  Meleagros,  sound  the  first  syllable  like  the  corre- 
sponding' one  in  melon,  and  the  a  as  rt  in  father.  (Eii'eus  is  of 
two  syllables,  like  The' sens,  ^'geus,  and  the  like. 

2. — P.  6.  Hack  not  daring,  and  my  chariot  wheels  Have  out- 
strip2')'d  theirs  — ]  Deianeira,  reputed  ( in  after  days  )  to  have 
been  bom  of  Althaea  by  Dionysus  ( Bacchus  ),  as  Meleagros  by  Ares 
(  Mars, )  was  skilled  in  charioteering,  and  warlike  :  A«ri)  ie  'wioxc, 
Kai  Ta  Kara  noXeixov  r\aKct.  She  was  betrothed  and  afterward  mar- 
ried to  Heracles,  who  had  contended  with  Achelous  because  of 
her.  Apollod.  Bihl.  I.  viii.  p.  113,  in  Fragm.  Histor.  Oraec. 
Miilleri  ( Paris.  8=  1841 : )  T.  I. 

3. — P.  6.     Whom  the  woiid  knoics  already,  for  his  deeds.     As 


52  NOTES    TO 


Heracles — ]  "Heracles"  (or,  as  we  write  it,  after  the  Latin, 
Hercules )  is  a  name  of  honor.  Previously,  the  hero  bore  but  his 
patronymic.  "  Nomen  habet  ab  ;;f)nr,  i.  e.  %apii','et  to  Ky^coi :  npa  est 
per  apocopen  ab  rjpava  et  €-mr)(iava^  idque  ab  tpnoj  amo.  *  *  *  Ante 
nominatus  fuerat  AX/ieio?,  ab  avo  ejus  paterno :  post  Pythius  ei  no- 
men  dedit  'HpaicAi;?,  his  versibus  :  'apaK\tr]v  &t  ac  ^ot0o;  tnoivvjiov 
E^ovofia^ei,  hpa  yap  avdpio-ani'yi  ifiepwv,  K\coi  a(pdiToi>  £^«i;.       Ex  qUO  appaxct 

etymologia  nominis,  quia  grata  multa  contulit  humano  generi 
viribus  suis.     Spiritus  asper  vero  est  Atticus. "     Damm.  in  nom. 

4. — P.  6.  Woitklhe  loere  Jiere ! ]  He  was  in  Lydia,  undergo- 
ing his  expiatory  servitude.  —  In  the  preceding  line,  Hera  is 
Juno. 

5. — P.  7,     Tliouwast  tlien  seven  days  old:  etc.  etc.]    .  .  tovtov 

Se  ovTOS  n/j.tpiov  iizTa^  napayevoixevai  ra;  JMoipaj  (paaiv  eiirtiv  Tore  TEKtvrriaei 
MsAsaypi)?,  oTav  o  Kaiajjieyog  em  rrjS  ca^apu;  JaXoj  KaraKaiJ.  APOLLOD. 
uM  S. 

6. — P.  8.  CEJneus'  son  Slio^dd  dread  celestial  anger.]  The 
boar,  the  chase  of  which  gives  rise  to  the  incidents  and  catas- 
trophe of  the  story,  is  fabled  to  have  been  sent  by  Artemis 
( Diana )  to  avenge  the  unintended  slight  put  upon  her  by  CEneus, 
when,  sacrificiug  to  the  other  gods  in  acknowledgment  of  a 
bountiful  harvest,  he  omitted  her  divinity.  —  Mara  in  the  text 
is  Fate. 

7.  — P.  9.  —  the  flood  Which  bears  my  wife's  unhappy  grand- 
sire's  name.]  The  Euenos  [Eve'nus].  Evenus  was  father  of 
Marpessa,  the  mother  of  Cleopatra.  His  daughter's  saitors  were 
required  to  contend  with  him  in  a  chariot-race.  Those  that 
were  unsuccessful  were  decapitated.  At  last  Idas,  brother  of 
Lynceus  and  son  of  Aphareus,  obtained  the  prize  ;  whereupon 


MELEAGROS  53 


Evenus  slew  bis  ovnx  horses  and  threw  himself  into  the  river 
which,  called  Lycormaa,  took  afterward  his  name.  It  is,  next  to 
the  Achclons,  the  largest  river  in  iEtolia.  It  has  its  source  in 
Mt.  CEta,  and  divided  Pleuron  from  Calydon. 

Mt.  l\(fhiasHus  is  on  the  coast  in  the  neighborhood  of  ancient 
Calydon.  Tnehunis  is  one  of  the  lakes  of  yEtoIia.  The  Gulf  is 
the  Gulf  of  Corinth,  which  bounds  .^<]tolia  on  the  south. 

8. — P.  9.  — through  Plcuron's  stem.]  Thestius  (brother  of 
Evenus )  was  son  of  Demonice  by  Mars.  Demonice  was  daughter 
of  Agenor,  as  Parthaon,  the  father  of  CEueus,  was  his  son  ;  and 
Agenor  was  son  of  Pleuron.  Thus  Pleuron  was  the  common 
ancestor  of  CEneus  and  Althaea. 

llddes  (above)  is  Pluto;  Ares.,  Mars.  Hermes  (below)  is 
Mercury. 

9. — P.  13.  — unfa  cor'' d  of  the  skies — ]  CEneus'  career  was 
full  of  trouble  to  its  close,  when,  disgusted  with  the  scene  of  his 
many  calamities,  he  left  it  in  self-banishment,  and  died  on  the 
way  to  Argolis. 

10. — P.  14.  We7'e  they  all  of  our  inland — ]  Where  the  people 
were  renowned  for  tenacity  and  valor. 

11. — P.  14.     — who  slew  its  Crommyan  dam — ]     Theseus. 

12. — P.  15.  — ScJianeus'  daughter — ]  This  is  the  parentage 
usually  assigned  to  Atalanta :  and  Schoeneus  with  mythologists 
and  lexicographers  is  made  to  be  Kuig  of  Scyros,  a  rocky  island 
of  the  Cyclades.  Apollodorus,  in  his  ill-digested  book,  makes 
her  in  one  place  ( where  he  enumerates  the  Calydonian  hunters  — 
I.  viii.  )  daughter  of  Schceneus  of  Arcadia.^  and  in  another  (when 
giving  the  particulars  of  her  history  —  III.  iv. )  tells  us  her  parents 


54  KOTES    TO 

wer6  lasus  and  Clymene  ;  and  as  lasns  was  the  son  of  Lycurgns 
of  Arcadia,  Cepheus  and  Antfasus,  both  present  at  the  chase, 
would  be  her  uncles.  Ovid  calls  her,  as  the  child  of  Schoeneus, 
"  Schjeneia"  (Met.  x.),  and  (ib.  viii.),  as  of  Arcadia,  (supposing  he 
does  not  mean  another  of  the  name,)  "  Nonacria  "  and  "  Tegea3a  " 
(from  Noniwris  and  Tegea  or  Tegeum,  towns  of  that  kingdom.  ) 
So  that  we  find  respectable  authorities  asserting  there  were  two 
heroines  of  the  name,  between  whom  they  divide  the  romance  of 
Atalanta's  story.  These  inconsistencies  or  variations  in  ancient 
fable  are  often  very  embarrassing. 

13.  — P.  16.  Tinder  Idson  — ]  In  the  Argonautic  expedition,  — 
as  mentioned  by  CEneus  in  Act  I. 

14. — P.  16.  lie  who  is  kiii^  etc.l  Their  mothers  were  cousins 
according  to  Plutarch,  ^thra  being  the  daughter  of  Pittheus  and 
Alcmena  of  Lysidice,  children  of  Pelops  and  Hippodamia.  Vita 
Tim.  §  vii  Op.  T.  i.  ed.  Reiske  ( Lips.  8°  1774, )  p.  15. 

15. — P.  17.  — my  sire  Had  for  my  sex  the  same  disdain  as 
tJiou.l  Disappointed  in  not  having  a  male  child,  he  exposed  the 
infant  bom  to  him,  which  was  suckled  by  a  bear  and  grew  up  to 
become  the  woman  Theseus  presently  describes.  Apollod.  III. 
iv.  p.  164  cd.  cit. 

16. — P.  18.     Nor  sounds  tlie  ivoi'y  quiver  on  her  shoulder — ] 

Ex  liumero  pendens  resonabat  ebiirnea  Ixvo 
Telornm  custos OviD.  Mat.  VIII.  320. 

17.— P.  21.     —Leto—\     Latona. 

18. — P.  26  — more  a  handsome  youth  Than  a  true  %comMn.\ 
Ovid,  before  me,  so  prefigured  the  mien  of  the  huntress : 


MELEAGROS  55 


facies,  quain  ilicerc  vere 

Virgineam  in  piiero,  iiucrilcm  in  viit'iiio,  posses.     ( ?/.  s.  322  ) 

It  is  an  inevitable  judgment,  from  her  pursuits  and  the  fable  of 
her  life. 

19. — V.  27.     0  mourner  of  Ancceus.]     Epochos. 

On  the  pediment  of  a  temple  of  Minerva  in  Tegea,  Pausanias, 
who  was  told  it  was  the  work  of  Scopas,  saw  a  sculptured  repre- 
sentation of  the  Calydoniau  boar-hunt.  Among  the  other  figures, 
Epochos  is  described  as  sustaining  in  act  to  raise  him  ( avtx<'"' ) 
Anca3us,  already  wounded  and  holding  rip  his  battleaxe.  Lib. 
VIII.  xlv.  p.  693,  ed.  Kuhn.  Lips,  m  fol.  1G9G. 

The  accidental  death  of  Euiytion  by  the  javelin  of  Peleus,  pres- 
ently alluded  to,  is  mentioned  by  ApoUodorus  :  I.  viii.  p.  113  ed.  c. 

20. — P.  28.  Then  Amphiaraos  followed.]  Apollou.  ib.  114. — 
It  is  he  whom,  afterward  in  the  text,  Meleagros  designates  by 
his  patronymic,  O'ideides. 

21. — P.  30.  — faithfulince  Jier  mother  and  as  fair — ]  Mar- 
pesa,  Marpessa,  or  Marpissa,  Cleopatra's  mother,  when  given  the 
choice  by  Jupiter,  preferred  her  husband  to  Apollo.  Homer 
mentions  her  beauty  and  alludes  to  her  fidelity  in  Phoenix'  story 
of  Meleagros  ( 11.  ix. )  Idas,  her  husband  and  Cleopatra's 
father,  is  included  among  the  hunters  by  Ovid  :  Et  celox  Idas. 

22.  — P.  32.  —  the  river.  ]  The  Evenus,  which,  as  said  above, 
divided  Pleuron  from  Calydon. 

23. — P.  33.  —  as  thy  mother  caWd  thee — ]  In  memory  of  her 
grief  when  carried  off  by  Apollo. 

Tiji/  (?£  TOT   r.v  jityapoiai  rraTrip  icai  iroTvla  jtrjrrip 


66  NOTES    TO 


A.\kvovtiv  Ka\ceaKov  ETTiovvjtov,  ouvtic'  api'  avrrt; 
M.rjTrip,  A.\KVOvoi  TToXvirepdcoi  oituv  C)(^ovaa^ 
KAai',  OTC  ^£1/  iKaEpyoi  avrjpiraat  ^oiPoi  AttoXXuv, 

Hon.  II.  IX.,  561.  text.  Wolf,  (in  Tauchnit.  ed.  Lips.  1829.) 

Alcyone  or  Alcyon  (Halcyon,  Attice)  was  the  ill-fated  wife  of 
Ceyx,  King  of  Trachinia,  on  seeing  whose  drowned  body  she 
threw  herself  into  the  sea,  and  was  changed  into  the  bird  that 
bears  her  name.  Ceyx  and  Halcyon,  like  Idas  and  Marpessa, 
were  patterns  of  conjugal  affection.  Their  story  is  told,  with 
much  beauty  and  elegance  of  detail,  by  Ovid  ( 3fet.  xi.),  who  has- 
displayed  in  the  narrative  certain  nice  touches  of  nature  that 
render  it  very  pathetic. 

24.  — P.  36.  Thou  didst  never  taste,  etc.  ]  On  a  certain  occa- 
sion, when  overlooking  the  labor  of  his  vineyard,  he  was  told  he 
would  never  drink  of  the  vintage.  When  the  wine  was  made,  he 
was  about  to  try  it,  reminding  the  speaker  of  his  prophecy,  who 
answered  by  repeating  the  proverb :  IToAXa  utralu  tteAei  kvXiku^  Kai 
XsiXao;  aKpo'j-  There  is  many  a  slip  Hwixt  the  cup  and  the  Up.  At 
that  moment  the  messenger  came  from  CBneus.  Fired  at  the 
news,  he  threw  down  the  untasted  cup  and  hastened  to  prepare 
for  that  exijedition  in  which  he  was  the  first  to  perish. 

25. — P.  36.  — Eurytion- — ]  Apollodorus  writes  Eurytion. 
But  in  the  usual  stories  of  the  eventful  life  of  Peleus,  it  is  Eury- 
tiLS^  his  father-in-law,  whom  he  is  said  to  have  killed  in  the 
Calydonian  hunt.  And  to  Eurytus  is  assigned  the  same  parent- 
age which  the  old  grammarian  gives  to  Eurytion,  whom,  and  not 
Eurytus,  Ovid,  a  century  later,  names  among  the  heroes.*  It  is 
easy  to  see  how  the  names  and  the  stories  have  been  confounded. 

*  And  inversely,  Eurytion  the  Centaur  is  called,  by  the  same  poet,  Eurytus. 


MELEAGROS  57 


So  with  AncaKus  above.  Some  make  the  Ancaeus  of  the  v-ine, 
who  met  his  death  also  by  a  wild  boar,  to  have  been  the  son  of 
Neptune,  and  the  other  (of  the  play)  of  Lycurgus.  Damm  {Lex. 
Horn.  Pind. )  applies  to  the  latter  the  fable  told  in  Note  24.  But 
there  needed  not  so  good  an  authoritj'  for  a  dramatist,  and  the 
confusion  between  names  and  events  that  are  of  similar  sound 
and  character  is  of  frequent  occurrence  throughout  mythology. 

26. — P.  37.  Renews  the  grief  of  his  paternal  ide — ].  He  had 
had  the  misfortune  to  kill  his  brother  Phocus,  or  to  be  accessory 
to  his  death  ;  on  which  account  he  fled  from  M^ma,  to  the  court 
of  Eurytus  in  Phthia. 

The  partiality  of  the  gods  for  Peleus,  and  the  honor  in  which 
he  was  held  by  men,  are  marked  by  the  events  of  his  history. 
Juno  herself  is  made  to  say  of  him  {II.  xxiv.  61 :  )  .  .  .  oj  ntpi  Knpt 

0iX»;  yc^CT   adavaTotatr. 

27. — P.  44.  —  ebon  throne — ]  Homer  makes  no  mention  of  the 
wood  i/^cpoi.  But  this  is  no  proof  that  its  existence  and  nature 
were  not  known,  as  well  as  those  of  ivory.  Hence  the  use  of  the 
epithet  here  is  not  properly  an  anachronism,  or  violation  of  cos- 
tume. I  could  easily  have  adopted  the  other  reading,  "  mourn- 
ful throne,"  or  for  the  two  verses  this  one  : 

"  Wlio  shar'st  his  throne,  made  pitiless  as  he." 

28. — p.  44.  Ye  of  the  fireless  sacrifice  wherewith  No  wine  is 
mingled.]     The  Erinnyes  or  Furies. 

29. — P.  44.     —  Earth-Mother  — ]     Arinnrrip  {Vii  ijnrrji') :  Ceres. 

30.— P.  47.     Of  iJity.    Mq\.  Mother !  kWa.  Meleagros.  —  No.] 

The  most  natural  reading,  and  thus  the  first  that  occurred  to  me, 

is : 

3-x- 


58  NOTES    TO    MELEAGROS 


"  Of  tnie  forgiveness. 

Mel.  Mother  I 

Alth.  Meleagros. 
No,  thou  shalt  not  see  me  weep." 

But  the  "  No"  is  hyijercatalectic ;  and  it  is  not  every  reader  that 
would  throw  the  emphasis  on  '■^ shalt"  :  so  that  the  verse  might 
be  made  to  halt. 

31. — P.  47.  —  to  their  ravislCd  kingdom  gave.  Or  left  his  name 
— ]  ^tolia  (from  ^to'lus.)  —  "for  all  future  song-."  "To 
all  future  time  "  is  the  first  and  better  reading  ;  but  it  makes  a 
rhyme. 

33. — P.  48.  The  god  has  taken  us  three.']  Certain  ancient 
poems,  according  to  Pausanias  (X.  xxxi.  p.  574  ed.  cit.),  made  the 
hero  to  have  been  slain  directly  by  Apollo,  who  took  the  side  of 
the  Couretes. 

33. — P.  48.  N'ot  dead?  TJlou  dost  not  say  it !  ]  Althsea  has 
her  eyes  fixed  on  the  embers.  It  is  only  when  Theseus  says, 
"  And  lo,  thy  son,"  she  lifts  them  and  sees  the  dead. 


THE    KEW    CALYAEY 


A    TRAGEDY 


BEING     THE     COMMENCEMENT     OF 
THE     SIXTH     VOLUME     OP     THE     DRAMATIC     SERIES 


LAUGHTON    OSBORN 


PREFACE  TO  THE  NEW  CALYARY 


I  HAVE  ■written  one  Calvary  to  suit  the  prejudices,  or 
the  superstitions,  of  others.  It  failed  to  attract  atten- 
tion. I  wi-ite  one  now  to  satisfy  myself.  I  might  hope 
for  its  success,  if  one  could  ever  hope  success  for  truth  in 
this  world.  But  truth  is  a  plant  of  very  slow  and  not 
always  steady  growth,  and  its  flower  may  not  open  for  a 
thousand  years.     Let  us  wait  till  then. 


THE   ISTEW    OALYARY 


MDCCCLXEX 


CHARACTERS,    Etc. 

Jestjs  of  Nazareth. 

Pontius  Pila'tus,     Procurator  of  Judea. 

Joseph  Caiaphas,     High-priest. 

NiCODEMXJS, 


of  the  Sanliedrim. 
Joseph  of  Ramatha'ui  (Arimatliea), 

Judas  Iscakio'tes,      1 

Simon  Pet'ros,  >    of  Jesus'  disciples. 

John,  J 

Marius,    a  Subcenttirion. 

Two  Witnesses     Tjefore  the  Sanliedrim. 

A  Scribe. 

Malchus,     Chief  Servant  of  the  High-priest. 

Camilla,     wife  of  Pontius. 
Mary  Magdalena. 

Mary,  Mother  of  Jesus.     Martha.     Certain  of  the  People. 
Certain  of  the  Disciples.     Roman  Soldiers. 

Scene.     Jerusalem  and  its  Environs. 


THE    NEAY    CALVARY 


Act    the    First 

Scene  I.      TJie  Hall  of  the  Procurator'' s  Palace, 

Pontius.     Camilla. 

Pon.  Thou  hast  heard  to  purpose.     Wilt  tliou  ]>&  a  Jew  ? 

Camil.  Nor  that,  nor  anything  but  what  I  am. 
Was  I  not  Roman,  I  were  still  thy  wife  : 
Thy  people  were  trnj  people,  and  thy  gods 
Would  have  my  worship.     'Tis  the  Jew  book's  talk. 

Pon.  Recited  lovingly.     'Tis  well,  my  child. 
By  Jupiter !  I  thought  thou  wast  bewitch' d 
By  this  same  Jesus.     Wherein  lieth  his  charm. 
That  dames  flock  wildly  to  him  as  he  Avere 
Another  Attis,  or  a  Bacchus  come 
With  pipe  and  cymbal  and  the  fruit  whose  juice 
Inflames  the  passions  ?     Is  tlie  man  so  fair  ? 


8  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


Gamil.  Few  are  less  favor' d/     Even  in  the  throng 
Of  his  ignoble  followers  stands  there  none 
Less  mark'd  of  aspect,  while  in  grace  of  form 
And  comeliness  of  visage  there  be  two 
Beside  whom  seems  the  Rabbin  at  first  sight 
Rudely  plebeian.     But  behold  him  stand, 
With  his  right  arm  outstretched,  his  left  hand  holding 
His  coarse  and  scanty  habit  to  his  breast. 
Look  in  his  eyes,  wliich  under  their  bent  brows 
Flash  lightning,  or  with  sharp  imperious  glance 
Pierce  to  the  very  marrow  of  the  soul, 
And  then  again  ( the  l:)row  relax' d  and  face 
Serenely  open  as  a  cloudless  sky) 
Fill  with  a  godlike  pity,  or  a  grief 
So  touching  that  your  own  eyes  swim  in  tears 
Only  to  see  them,  hear  his  matchless  voice. 
Now,  fiercely  vehement,  with  a  prophet's  wrath 
Denouncing  wo,  or  calling  to  repent 
The  reckless  guilty,  now,  subdu'd  and  sad, 
And  tender  as  a  lover's  whisper,  breathe 
Lament  o'er  fallen  Israel,  or  appeal, 
With  a  sublime  compassion,  to  the  hearts 
Of  the  afflicted,  and  though  Bacchus'  self 
Or  Berecynthian  Attis  were  beside. 
Thou  'dst  see  but  him  alone,  nor  only  see. 
But  hear  admuing,  ravish' d,  not  amus'd. 

Pon.  Thou  paint'st  a  dangerous  man.     I  wonder  not 
The  High-priest  dreads  him.     Even  now  he  seeks 
Means  to  arrest  him  quietly,  and  calls 


ACT    I.     SC.    1. 

lu  furtherance  my  power,  not  to  spare 
Should  the  man's  acts  condemn  liim. 

Camil.  "Tis  the  hate 
Engcuder'd  of  his  bigot  creed  and  nurs'd 
By  fears  of  change,  which,  to  tlie  proud  of  place 
"Wlio  fatten  on  abuses,  give,  or  wake 
Anew,  disquiet,  when  inquiring  minds 
Seem  to  observe  tliem  closely,  or  refuse 
To  be  driven  unquestioning,  like  the  harness' d  brute. 

Pon.  Thou  art  wise  and  pithy,  but  art  wrong  in  tliis. 
'Tis  not  his  dogmas  Caiaphas  detests 
Or  finds  pernicious.     "What  to  him  indeed, 
Whether  the  man  be  ]\Ioses  come  again, 
Or  one  of  those  wald  rantere,  whose  stuff' d  talk, 
Half  poetry,  half  madness,  fills  the  scrolls 
Of  these  cajjp'd  monotheists,  sacred  held 
As  their  half-savage,  narrow-minded  laws 
And  lying  histories,  as  we  hold,  ourselves, 
The  Sybil's  fragments,  scatter' d  prate  like  it? 
What,  though  he  were  the  Essean  John  *  himself 
Come,  with  his  head  on,  back  again  to  earth 
And  his  lavations  ?     In  his  narrow  creed 
Shut  as  in  walls,  the  pontiff  sits  serene. 
And  smiles  at  wliims  he  knows  his  stolid  race 
Would  only  scoff  at,  though  ten  Christs  should  spring 
Out  of  this  one  Messias'  head  and  rave  — 

Camil.  No,  preach — • 

Pon.  And  preach  ten  times  as  loud  as  he. 

No,  'tis  his  aims,  or  those  his  followers  have 
1* 


10  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


For  his  behoof.     The  liars  feign  him  sprung 
Of  ancient  Da%ad,  whose  long-buried  throne 
They  would  unearth,  repair  its  shatter'd  seat, 
And  put  him  in  possession.     Mad  attempt ! 
And  yet  not  more  so  than  the  many  made 
By  this  contentious  people,  whose  strong  necks 
Still  wince  and  writhe  beneath  the  needful  yoke 
They  never  shall  shake  off. 

Camil.  Believe  it  not. 
The  Rabbin  claims  no  sceptre  on  the  earth, 
Save  what  he  wields  already  o'er  the  soul. 

Pon.  That  can  have  no  great  sway. 

Camil.  Not  now,  not  here. 
But  how  hereafter  ?  and  in  other  climes  ? 
When  the  man  passes,  but  his  creed  remains. 
Wilt  thou  not  hear  liim  ? 

Pon.  With  his  rabble  ?     No. 
'Twould  add  to  liis  influence,  and  give  umbrage  where 
My  place  would  bid  me  shun  it.     'Tis  enough 
I  put  no  let  on  thee. 

Camil.  Then  hear  him  here. 

Pon.  Here,  in  my  halls  ?  a  Jew  ?     He  would  not  come. 

Camil.  He  would.     To  him,  in  his  large  soul,  are  one 
Both  Jew  and  Gentile,  and  no  place  is  bann'd, 
Since  nothing  is  not  cleanly  in  itself. 
Save  as  man's  vices  make  it.     Let  him  come. 

Pon.  And  make  me,  as  his  subtle  speech  has  thee, 
A  Nazarene  in  heart,  or  of  his  sect  ? 
No,  pretty  reasoner  :  nor  go  thou  too  oft 


ACT    I.     SC.    1.  11 

To  the  man's  out-cloor  temples,  lest  thy  soul 
Learn  a  new  worship,  or  it  be  rcmark'd 
To  my  reproach. 

Camil.  And  be  not  thou  misled 
By  the  designing  pontiff,  nor  tliy  staff 
Put  in  his  hand,  wherewith  to  lireak  the  back 
Of  a  good  man  and  hannlcss. 

Pon.  Is  he  such, 
Harmless  I  mean,  (for  be  he  good  or  Ixad, 
That  may  concern  the  Iligh-pricst,  doth  not  me, ) 
Thou  need'st  not  fear.     ]My  faith,  thou  know'st,  is  large 
And  takes  in  all  religions,  and  my  staff. 
If  heavy  in  office  for  the  backs  tliat  rise 
In  insolent  rebellion,  weighs  a  straw 
On  those  that  bend  obsequious  to  its  rule. 


12  THE   NEW   CALVAEY 


Scene  IT. 

In  ike  abode  of  Mary  Magdalena :  a  mean  apartment,  dimly 
lighted  by  a  lamp. 

Jesxjs.     John.     SnioN.     J'Lvry. 

Ma.  Yea,  master,  would  it  do  thee  good,  assist 
Thy  rise  to  power,  or  for  a  moment  ease 
Thy  footstep,  I  would  gladly  make  my  head 
A  stool  for  thy  feet,  not  merely  wipe  them  dry 
Or  dust  them  with  these  wicked  hairs,  whose  mass 
And  fineness,  have  they  been  a  charm  indeed. 
Have  help'd  ensnare  my  soul  and  made  for  me 
A  vail  of  shame. 

Jesiis.  If  so  thou  feel  it,  Mary, 
Thy  haks  will  be  a  glory.     Wliy  then  blame 
The  beauty  God  has  given  ?     In  the  blood 
And  the  soul's  Aveakness  Satan  finds  alone 
His  power  of  mischief,  and  the  ugly  fall 
As  easily  as  the  comely.     Nor  debase 
Thyself  to  do  me  service.     'Tis  my  head 
Should  lower  itself,  and  doth,  for  thee  and  all. 
But  art  thou  ti-uly  penitent,  so  pray 
Not  to  be  led  to  evil.     Dost  thou  so  ? 

Ma.  "Why  ask'st  thou  that,  0  master  ? 


ACT    I,     SC.  .2.  13 

Jcvis.  Judas  looks 
Lovingly  on  thy  locality. 

3fa.  Master! 

Jesus.  Save 
John  only,  \\\\o  is  fairer,  is  there  none 
Consorts  with  thee  more  gifted  Avith  those  chaiTns 
Of  face  and  form  vrhich  take  at  sight  tlic  hearts 
Of  womanldnd. 

ira.  xVt  thy  lov'd  feet,  like  Ruth, 
Without  Ruth's  secret  hopes,  more  joy  were  mine 
To  lie  by  the  hour,  than  pillow' d  by  the  side 
Of  David  or  of  Absalom.     One  day, 

Shouldst  thou  wed  Martha 

Jesus.  That  will  never  be. 
Ma.  Mary,  thy  mother,  hopes  it,  and  so  thinks. 
Jesus.  ]\Iary  my  mother  hopes  and  thinks  to  see 
My  hands  once  more  rchardcn  to  the  craft 
That  was  my  father's,  yet  the  spikes  shall  pierce 
More  easily  through  my  palms'  flesh  to  the  planks 
Than  shall  my  shut  palms  diive  them.    Tliou  wouldst  say, 

Should  I  wed  Martha 

3fa.  Thou  wouldst  have  indeed 
A  gentle  and  true  wife  and  a  fair  withal, 
Yet  all  her  passion,  and  she  loves  thee  well, 
Would  not  a  tithe  make  of  the  least  of  that 
Which  fills  to  the  full  the  brain  and  grateful  heart 
Of  the  poor  creature  thou  didst  not  despise 

When  hypocrites 

Jesus.   Wouldst  thou  then  tempt  me  too  ? 


14  THE    NEW    CALVAKY 


Ma.  Who,  master,  could  do  that  ? 

Jesus.  All  women  may, 
AU  men  may,  if  but,  for  a  moment's  space, 
The  heart  nods  o'er  its  duty  and  the  eyes 
Cease  to  look  upward,  Godward.     Mary,  peace : 
Speak  never  more  what  fits  me  not  to  hear, 
Nor  these  who  be  with  me. 

Ma.   It  had  not  been  dar'd: 
But  thou,  O  master,  didst  seem  to  see  me  falling, 
Because  I  fell. 

Jesus.  They,  Mary,  who  trip  once 
May  after  stuml)le.     'Tis  tlie  unsure  foot 
That  cannot  be  rely'd  on  to  be  firm. 
Our  sins  are  habits,  as  our  vices  are. 
Wlio  to  himself  shall  say,  he  not  again 
WiU  do  what  he  hath  done,  when  to  have  done  't 
Itself  suggests  the  doing  of  it  again 
And  makes  it  twice  more  easy  ?     Do  not  weep ; 
I  not  distrust  thee,  Mary,  not  in  soul. 
There  thou  art  wash'd,  regenerate ;  but  the  flesh 
Is  the  old  Adam.     See  that  not  the  fruit 
Held  by  the  tempter  make  thee  twice  an  Eve. 
Lo  where  he  cometh. 


Enter  Judas,  — 
who  hetrays  surprise  and  confusion. 
Ju.  Master,  seeking  thee. 


ACT    I,     SC.    2.  15 

Jesus.  No,  on  another  quest.     But  why  then  me  ? 
Ju.  Thou  art  in  danger.     Caiaphas,  't  is  said, 
Offers  great  sums  for  thy  arrest. 

Jesus.  Beware 
Lest  thou  be  tempted.     [  Turns  to  go. 

Ma.  Thou  wilt  not  yet  go  ? 
The  night  has  scarce  set  in.     With  thicker  dark 
Will  lie  less  danger. 

Jesus.  When  the  snare  is  set, 
The  prey  is  taken  more  easily  by  night : 
The  shadows  that  help  hide  him  from  pursuit 
Conceal  too  his  pursuers.     When  I  fall 
Into  the  pit  the  proud  man  digs  for  me, 
Haply  't  will  be  by  night. 

John.  Yet,  lord,  remain,  — 
If  not  till  mom,  yet  till  the  streets  be  thinn'd,  — 
As  Mary  prays.     For  our  sakes,  master. 

Si.  No. 
The  moon  is  not  yet  risen :   deeper  dark 
Is  now  than  will  be.     Why  should  Jesus  fear  ? 
Are  we  not  vf\t\\  him  ?     And  my  ann  is  strong. 
Jesus.   Simon,  be  not  too  confident.     Boast  not, 
Lest  thy  scant  doing  bring  thy  swollen  talk 
Into  derision.     Is  't  the  Almighty's  will. 
Hundreds  shall  not  surprise  me ;  if  my  fate 
Points  to  destruction,  one  will  be  enough. 
Mary,  fear  not  for  me ;  and  for  thyself. 
Remember  what  I  warn'd  thee.  \_Leatcs  with  John  and  Simon. 
Ju.  What  was  that  ? 


16  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Ma.   How  can  I  speak  it  ?     Didst  thou  truly  come, 

Seeking  him  only  ? 

Ju.  No  :  thou  mayst  be  sure 

Not  his  the  image  was  before  my  eyes, 

When  my  heart  long'd  for  beauty ;  and  the  locks, 

Whose  flexile,  fine-drawn  gold  weiglis  more  to  me 

Than  were  it  solid  metal  of  like  bulk 

Stor'd  in  the  Temple,  shadow  not  his  brow. 

Was  that  his  meaning  ?     What  is  it  to  him  ? 

Turn  his  own  thoughts  that  way  ? 

Ma.  On  me  1   Tliou  know'st 

That  cannot  be. 

Ju.  I  know  it  not.     His  eyes 

See  everything.     How  should  they  fail  to  mark 

The  largeness  of  thy  beauty  ?     Is  the  red 

Now  in  thy  cheek,  —  more  dusky  tlian  are  wont 

To  bloom  the  roses  love  hath  planted  there 

Ma.  'T  is  the  dim  light  — 

Ju.  —  Of  that  detested  lamp, 

Which  makes  it  dusky,  but  not  makes  the  red. 

Is't  not  there  summon'd  by  the  thought  of  him, 

Admiring,  haply  loving,  or  to  love  ? 
Ma.  Judas,  I  "will  not  listen,     Where  gatt'st  thou 

Tlie  right  to  so  upbraid  me  ?     And  thou  dost 

Grievously  wrong  the  master.     Were  his  heart 

Open  to  amorous  passion,  Martha  sole 

Would  fill  its  temj^le.     But  for  me,  alas, 

Stain' d  and  degraded 

Ju.  Mary,  do  not  weep,  — 


ACT    I.    SO.    2.  17 

Though  even  thy  tears  make  lioauty,  even  here 
Where  the  thin  yellow  flame  reveals  not  more 
Tlian  it  conceals  by  shadows  thy  lov'd  charms. 
But  what  did  Jesus  warn  thee  ?     Thou  art  free ; 
I  woo  to  wed  thee,  and  would  do  so  now, 
"Wouldst  thou  consent  to  it. 

3fa.  That  I  never  shall. 
I  have  been  try'd,  found  wanting.     Wouldst  thou  take 
Dishonor  to  thy  anns  ? 

Ju.  Ay,  ten  times  over, 
So  it  came  tempting  with  those  long  I^lue  eyes, 
Tender  yet  sad,  and  those  full,  mournful  lips. 
Which  heat  my  blood  to  madness.     Do  not  fear  : 
Tliough  we  be  here  alone,  I  am  no  brute. 

Nor  yet  a  villain,  though What  meant  he  then, 

When  the  talk  was  of  Caiaphas'  reward. 

By  bidding  me  beware  ?     He  dares  not  think 

That  I  would  sell  him  ?     Much  as  I  have  cause 

To  hate  and  to  despise  him 

3fa.  Hate!     Despise! 
Despise  the  master  ? 

Ju.  Why  wilt  thou  persist 
To  call  him  Master ;  he  is  nowise  leam'd  ? 
Ma.  Ay,  in  a  lore  the  books  teach  not,  and  few 
•  Have  ever  conn'd  as  he  has.     But  thyself 
Dost  so  address  him. 

Ju.  When  I  speak  him  fair. 
So  I  would  style  him  King,  would  that  bring  nigh 
The  kingdom  he  hath  promis'd.     But  its  wealth. 


18  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Like  the  false  water  o'er  the  heated  sands 
Of  the  desert,  mocks  us.     Toward  it  we  speed 
To  find  it  gone,  a  phantom  of  the  air. 
Ma.  Thou  thirstest  for  the  unreal.     Not  of  him 
Comes  the  illusion.     He  hath  often  said 
His  kingdom  is  unearthly. 

Ju.  But,  save  John, 
Who  of  us  men  believes  that  senseless  rant  ? 
Doth  Andrew  ?  Thomas  ?  James  ?       He  sham'd  me  too 
Before  his  trusted  ones,  the  girl-fac'd  John 
And  the  raAV  braggart,  Simon.     Why  not  keep 
His  menaces  for  thee  and  me,  if  needed. 
For  our  sole  ears  ? 

Ma.  Thou  know'st  it  is  his  use 
To  speak  without  reserve,  at  fitting  time, 
All  things  of  all  men. 

Ju.  No,  he  often  clouds 
His  talk  with  parables.     At  fitting  time. 
All  things  are  fit.     Was  this  a  fitting  time 
To  give  us  lessons  ?  thee,  for  aught  I  know, 
In  continence,  and  me  against  the  lust 
Of  having,  me  whom  ^vith  the  rest  he  keeps 
In  beggarly  indigence,  wlicn,  in  little  time, 
Would  he  not  dally  with  the  people's  wish, 
Telling  old  saws  of  Heaven,  which  they  list 
Only  to  laugh  at,  but  assume  their  lead. 
As  a  brave  man  ought  to,  he  might  put  us  all 
In  place  and  power,  make  Israel  once  more  sing 
The  song  of  triumph,  hush'd  now  as  the  haqj 


ACT  I,   sc.  a  19 

Of  vainly-honord  David,  and  for  me 
Change  gcralis  into  talents.     Then  shouldst  tliou, 
Lov'dMary,  have  tliat  place  beseems  thy  charms, 
And  thy  lap  till'd  with  shekels. 

Ma.  Woi-tlilcss  all, 
Though  like  thy  gerahs  they  should  turn  to  gold. 
Thou  art  too  sordid,  as  our  fathers  were, 
Hankering  for  Egypt's  fleshpots  and  the  calf 
That  shone  with  gold. 

Jit.  They  were  a-hunger'd  then : 
'Twas  natural  they  should  long  for  meat.     The  calf 
"Was  their  familiar  worship.     So  himself 
Jesus  will  teach  thee.     Are  we  not  both  poor  ? 
Look  at  that  lamp.     Wants  not  the  brazier  coals  ? 

Thou  hast  not  set  before  me  aught  to-night, 

And  I  am  famish' d.     Ilast  thou  not  a  crust? 

A  drop  of  wine  ? 

3Ta.  I  have  no  wine,  scarce  oil : 

The  fire  has  not  been  Lit :  I  am  not  cold. 

Thou,  closely  cover' d,  coming  from  the  street, 

Canst  not  yet  suffer :  and  my  last  of  bread 

Was  given  to  the  master  and  the  twain 

Who  now  were  vnth.  him. 

Ju.  And  for  this,  thy  thanks 

Were  a  cold  warnmg,  seemingly  of  me, 

And,  fill'd  with  liimself,  he  ciies  to  me,  so  poor, 

And  who  for  thy  sake,  Mary,  thine  alone. 

Covet  sufficient,  as  for  thy  sole  sake 

I  would  I  had  all  that  Solonaon  so  lavish'd 


20  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


On  that  one  perishable  House,  and  thou, 

That  thou  hadst  all  was  brought  him  by  the  Queen 

Of  sunny  Saba,  —  unto  me  he  cries, 

Beware  of  avarice ! 

Ma.  No,  "Beware,"  he  said, 
"  Lest  thou  be  tempted." 

Ju.  Tempted  to  do  what  ? 
Dost  thou  believe  me,  Mary,  then,  so  base, 
To  sell  men's  lives  for  money  1     Say  thou,  quick. 
Say  thou  dost  not  so  judge  me ! 

Ma.  Not  for  me 
To  judge  or  to  condemn  thee.     Have  I  not 
Myself  had  need  of  charital:>le  thought, 
Receiv'd  and  learn'd  its  lesson  ?     Thou  to  me 
Seemest  not  evil,  Judas ;  but  thy  heart 
Is  sway'd  by  passion,  and  tliy  vehement  will 
May  plunge  thee  in  a  moment  down  some  steep 
"Whereto  thou  runnest,  seeing,  not  with  eyes 
Which  scan  the  depth  wherefrom  is  no  ascent. 
But  the  verge  only,  nor  that  over-well. 
Why  shouldst  thou  hate  the  master  ?  how  despise 
Him  who  is  wise  as  Moses,  more  devout 
Than  Samuel,  and  more  blameless,  and  whose  tongue 
Rings  on  the  heart  as  not  Esaias'  did  ? 
There  has  been  none  his  like,  sage,  prophet,  judge, 
From  "the  beginning"  ^  to  that  godless  time 
When  the  last  prophet  warn'd  (but  not  like  him) 
Four  hundred  years  ago. 

Jti.  And  this  tliou  say'st. 


ACT    I.     SC.   2.  21 

This  think'st  ?     Thou'it  mad  !     Thou  lov'st  him  ! 

Ma.  Love  ?     I  do. 
Not  with  such  love,  I  think,  as  tliou  lov'st  me : 
But  if  I  did,  he  could  not  be  to  thee 
A  rival  or  cause  envy.     Is  he  not 
The  master  ?     Humbly  I  attend  his  feet, 
To  catch  his  lessons,  and  to  be  with  pride 
The  handmaid  of  his  servants. 

Ja.  Glad  to  part 
Tliy  last  cnist  with  the  menials  and  jjour  out 
Thy  scanty  log  of  wine. 

Ma.  My  crust,  my  wine  ? 
I  would  I  had  provision,  for  his  sake, 
Ample  as  Solomon's.^ 

Ju.  Why  not  wish  as  well 
A  realm  as  wide  ? 

Ma.  From  Tiphsah  even  to  Azzah. 
Ay,  't  were  not  broad  enough  for  his  desert, 
Which  one  day  may  fill  half  the  expanded  world  ; 
And  I  would  make  him  ruler  over  all. 
Ju.  Thou'it  drive  me  mad.  — But  give  him  what  thou  wilt. 
Thou  shalt  not  suffer  hunger,  tliirst,  nor  cold.     [Leaves. 
Ma.   [calling  after  him. 

Judas,  I  want  not.     [  The  door  closes. 

Gone !     And  in  such  mood ! 
I  needed  not  the  warning.     With  that  ire 
Blackening  his  handsome  visage,  Ilaman's  own 
Were  not  more  hateful,  and  the  bloody  hands 
Of  Joab  might  sooner  stretch  to  my  embrace. 


22  THE  NEW  CALVARY 


Act  the  Second 

Scene  I.      Tlie   Valley  of  Hinnom. 

Jesus  haranguing  the  rmdtitude. 

Near  Mm,  Simon,  John,  and  others  of  the  Tioehe. 

Also  near  Mm,  lut  on  the  outer  edge 

of  the  semicircle  of  feofle,  Nic- 

ODEMTJS  and  Joseph  of  Ramathaim.     Farther  off,  a  Scribe. 

Jesus.  So  Moses  taught  ?     Your  Moses  tauglit  you  lore 
After  the  fables  of  the  priests  of  On.^ 
Witness  the  death-fniit  and  the  serpent's  guile, 
And  the  man  molded,  as  the  sculptor  molds, 
Out  of  the  plastic  clay.  — " 

One  of  Peojy.  Hear !  he  blasphemes. 

Jesus.  No,  he  blasphemes  who,  having  inward  sight, 
Forgets  his  consciousness.     I  forget  it  not, 
Nor  level  to  the  abasement  of  the  fool. 
The  juggler,  or  the  palsied  of  resolve 
Who  says  and  unsays,  shaking  with  the  breath 
Of  his  own  purposes,  that  dread  First  Cause 
Wliose  name  not  one  of  us  is  fit  to  name. 
Even  if  he  knew  it.     Moses  knew  it  not. 
Not  as  ye  know  it.     He  was  not  so  bred 


ACT    II.    SC.    1.  23 

To  utter  it,  till  he  was  call'd [A  burst  of  indignation 

on  tlie  part  of  tlie  "people. 
Nic.  Nay,  hush ; 
lie  tells  you  what  the  Book  says.     Moses  ask'd 
Wliat  God  Himself  reveal'd.' 

'  Jesus.  "What  Moses  said 
Was  so  reveal' d,  —  if  Moses  did  so  say. 
Ye  know  not  that  he  did.     Nay,  hear  me  out. 
Not  I  malign  your  teacher,  that  great  man, 
The  God-inspir'd,  to  whom  ye  owe  it  this  day 
Ye  are  not  idolaters,  though  Egyjjt's  filth 
Still  clung  to  liis  garments  and  from  Aaron's  skirts 
Was  not  shook  off,  and  its  vain  tinsel' d  pomp 
Long  deck'd  your  sanctuary,  where  between 
The  expanded  wings,  thence  borrow' d,  sat,  't  was  said, 
That  Awful  One,  whose  majesty  nor  house. 
Nor  temple,  nor  grove,  nor  lofty^  mountain-top. 
Nor  the  thick  clouds,  nor  the  upheaving  sea, 
Can  anywise  contain.  — 

Another  of  Peop.  What !     Nazarene  ! 
Dar'st  thou  gainsay  what  God  liimself  ordain'd  ? 
Jesus.  Where  ?     In  the  burning  bush  ?     Upon  the  Mount, 
'jVIid  thunder  and  with  lightning  and  in  clouds, 
Wlien  the  hill  trembled  and  the  trumpet  blar'd  ? 
Hast  thou  not  heard  what  hoar  Elijah  saw, 
Wlien,  after  fasting,  on  the  Mount  of  God 
He  stood  expectant  ?     And  behold  !  there  rose 
A  strong  wind,  and  the  mountain's  heart  was  shook 
And  the  rocks  bow'd  their  foreheads.     But  the  Lord 


24  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


Was  not  in  tlie  wind.     And  when  the  wind  had  jjass'd 

An  earthquake  heav'd,  that  rent  the  mountain's  frame 

And  its  libs  clave  asunder.     But  the  Lord 

Was  not  in  tlie  earthquake.     Then  there  rag'd  a  fire. 

Still,  the  flames  held  Him  not.     At  last  there  breath'd 

A  soft,  small  voice :   and  lo,  the  Tishbite  drew 

His  mantle  o'er  his  face.     That  soft,  small  voice 

Spoke  in  the  prophet's  soul.     'T  will  speak  to  you, 

If  ye  will  hear  it :  in  a  thousand  tones 

'T  would  speak  to  you,  but  your  hearts'  ears  are  stuff' d 

And  cannot  listen. 

One  of  Peop.  Why  reproach  us  then 
That  they  hear  not  ? 

Jesus.  Thou  fool !    Jehovah  comes 
Not  to  the  idle  and  besotted.     Seek, 
And  ye  shall  find  Him ;  knock,  and  unto  you 
It  shall  be  open'cl ;  not  in  temples,  not 
Before  the  altar.     But  in  your  own  homes, 
In  darkness  and  in  loneness,  by  your  beds. 
Where  no  man  heareth  and  the  eye  sees  not, 
There  pray  unto  the  Father,  for  that  light 
That  shall  make  plam  your  pathway,  for  that  voice 
That  shall  encourage,  warn,  console  you,  pray 
That  the  small  plant  of  virtue  in  your  souls. 
Not  wholly  wither' d,  may  grow  up  and  spread. 
And  by  its  very  shadow  make  to  droop 
The  undergrowth  of  vices,  hideous  weeds, 
Which  suck  their  strength  from  and  exhaust  the  soil 
That  should  make  thrive  the  true  tree. 


ACT  II.   sc.    1.  25 

Peop.  Not  so  pray'd 
Our  fathers. 

Jesus.  No.     They  knew  not  to  adore 
The  Unutterable  ^  Ilim  whose  voice  no  man 
Hath  ever  heard,  no  man  will  ever  hear, 
Save  in  the  tonguoless  echoes  of  the  heart. 
Or  in  the  tones  of  Nature. 

Peop.  Speaks  it  then 
In  thee  ? 

Jesus.  Ay,  in  my  heart  wliile  thus  I  teach. 
And  in  the  unlock' d  hearts  of  all  good  men 
Among  ye  who  would  seek  to  know  the  truth. 
And  -who  ])ewail  the  ignorance  and  lusts 
That  tie  you  down  to  the  earth,  whereby  no  more 
Your  hearts'  eai-s  listen. 

Peop.  Sayst  thou  ?     Wliat  made  thee 
To  be  erect,  us  creatures  of  the  field  ? 
Art  thou  more  man  than  we  ?     Thou  look'st  it  not. 
Jesus.  But  am,  in  that  I  trample  on  the  lusts. 
Or  strive  to,  which  ye  set  upon  your  necks. 
More  sla\dsh  in  their  yoke  than  is  the  ox 
Before  the  ploughshare.     Yet,  ye  are  not  brutes : 
No,  ye  wear  clothing,  and  your  garments  hide 
Your  vices,  or  ye  think  so,  as  your  sores  ; 
But  on  your  faces,  in  your  cheeks,  your  eyes, 
Tliere  God  has  stamp'd  obsceneness,  God  who  gave 
Your  appetites  for  use.     But  ye  have  set 
Your  senses  up  as  idols,  and  your  acts 
Would  shame  the  very  dogs  you  call  obscene. 
Vol.  Vr.— 2 


26  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Hence  your  corrupted  visages.     And  thus 
Hath  David,  who  too  serv'd  liis  passions,  sung, 
When  Thou  with  cJiastisement  rebuFsi  man's  sin. 
Thou  mak'st  his  heauiy  to  consume  away 
As  doth  a  moth.     King  David  was  of  men 
Comely  among  the  comeliest,  but  he  paid 
Tlie  i^enalty  of  his  subjected  soul 
And  overmastering  body.     So  do  ye. 
The  rot  of  your  corruption  makes  a  stain 
Your  garments  cannot  hide  and  gives  disgust 
Even  to  your  fellows,  liideous  as  yourselves. 

Peoja.  Is  this  for  us  to  hear  ?     Wilt  thou  revile 
Our  wives  too  ?     What  be  they  ? 

Jesus.  Like  you,  whose  gods 
Are  your  own  entrails  and  your  secrets. 

Peop.  Out ! 
Out  on  the  Gentile  !     He  is  none  of  us. 

Another.  Stain  unto  Nazareth  !  thou  pretend  to  teach, 
Who  art  thyself  a  pagan  ? 

Jesus.  Look  around. 
Was  not  here  Topheth  ?     Is  not  this  the  vale 
CaU'd  of  the  sons  of  Hinnom  ?  where  your  sires 
Saw  o'er  the  flames  their  infants  lightly  pass'd 
By  votaries  of  Moloch  ?     Why  not  build 
An  altar  here  to  Chemosh,  Baal-Peor  ? 
The  Israelites  in  Chittim  saw  not  worse 
When  Zimri  and  his  Midian  harlot  fell, 
Pierc'd  thi'ough  the  belly  by  the  wrath  devout 
Of  Eleazar's  son,'  nor  worse,  more  late 


ACT    IT.    SC.    1.  27 

A  thousand  years,  the  caj^tive  prophet  saw 

In  visions  of  the  Lord,  ^vhen  by  the  hair 

He  was  lifted  up  between  the  Heavens  and  earth 

From  Chcbar's  bank,  and  set  before  the  gate 

That  looketh  toward  the  north,  of  God's  own  house, 

There  in  Jerusalem.'"    The  Egyptian  wives, 

The  Babylonians  whom  ye  scorn,  did  not, 

Between  the  setting  and  the  rising  sun. 

Worse  acts  than  ye  do.     O  adulterous  women  ! 

O  men  as  faithless  !   saw  ye  each  the  other, 

As  I  behold  you,  God-mark'd,  ye  would  cry 

Unto  the  caverns  "  Hide  us  !  "  and  the  wolves 

"  Let  us  be  your  companions  !  " 

Peo]j.  'T  is  enough : 
Let  him  speak  nothhig  further. 

Nic.  Nay,  hear  all. 
How  can  it  harm  ye  ?     Speaks  he  sooth,  his  words 
May  be  your  medicine,  though  they  relish  not : 
LE  false,  they  pass  you  as  the  murmuring  wind. 
Less  sharp  than  that  now  blowing,  and  through  which 
Ye  are  come  to  hear  him. 

Peop.  And  to  stay  to  hear. 
Will  he  not  make  us  heathen,  which  we  are  not. 
Jesus.  Yea,  't  is  your  nature.     To  subdue  the  heart, 
To  bend  the  knees  of  the  si^Lrit,  and  uplift 
The  prayerful  hands  of  the  soul  is  too  great  pain : 
To  see  what  takes  the  sense,  to  ofEer  up 
What  costs  you  but  the  value  of  the  gift. 
To  make  up  your  account  with  Heaven  above 


28  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


As  with  your  creditors  on  earth,  behold 

Your  daily,  only  worship.     How  remov'd 

Is  this  from  heathen  usage  ?     Think  ye  then, 

It  matters  in  what  form  or  by  what  name 

You  adore  the  Godhead,  so  it  be  in  jjrayer 

Lowly,  heart-felt  and  penitent  ?     It  is 

As  ye  conceive  Him  ;  for  to  know  Him  else, 

To  know  Him  as  He  is,  not  you,  nor  I, 

Nor  any  that  did  ever  or  shall  live 

In  the  whole  world  will  e'er  achieve.     Adore 

"With  humbleness,  adore  with  thankful  heart, 

Adore  with  penitence,  adore  with  loss 

Of  self  and  self  denying  ;  that  is  good  : 

And  whether  it  be  the  sun  that  gives  ye  warmth. 

Which  comes  of  Him,  if  ye  will  be  so  blind 

As  to  believe  it  is  Himself  that  shines. 

Or  some  misshapen  object,  can  ye  be 

So  dull  as  think  the  source  whence  beauty  flows  ' 

As  well  as  goodness  can  indeed  be  such, 

It  is  all  one.  —    Peace  !  but  a  little  more. 

Think  not  observances  make  mortals  holy. 

Or  that  mere  rites  atone  repeated  sin. 

When  from  their  feet  your  fathers  shook  the  dust 

Of  Gossen,"  robbing,  if  indeed  they  robb'd, 

So  meanly  those  who  unsuspecting  lent 

Their  kindly  jewels,  and  committing  murder, 

Did  they  commit  it,  when  besmear'd  with  blood 

Their  own  door-posts  were  jjass'd,  Avhile  from  the  gates 

Of  the  Nilotic  dwellings  came  the  wail 


ACT    II.    SC.    1.  29 

Of  women  o'er  theii'  children  foully  slain 

Peop.  Blasphemer  !    Do\vii  with  him  !    Let  him  speak  no  more. 
It  was  the  hand  of  God.  ' 

Jesxis.  So  dare  ye  say. 
Could  the  Life-Giver  order  life  destroy'd  ? 
"Would  the  All-Just  upon  the  innocent  child 
Visit  its  parents'  trespass,  or  make  wade 
Up  to  liis  ankles  in  the  first-born's  blood 
His  stainless  messenger  ?  "     'T  is  ye  blaspheme, 
Jehovah  never  sanction'd  even  tlie  least 
Of  all  your  monstrous  actions.     Such  ye  dare 
Not  only  boast  to  have  done  at  his  behest,  — 
TMiereljy  your  prophets'  and  your  jisalmists'  books 
Smell  of  the  stench  of  slaughter  and  are  blurr'd 
By  fraud  and  treachery  chanted  as  great  deeds,  — 
But  make  the  very  angels  at  his  l)id 
To  have  done  to  aid  ye.     Up,  I  say,  ye  came 
Over  the  sea  to  Chanaan,  with  you  bringing, 
At  least  your  leader,  a  religion  pure, 
The  secret  worship  of  the  Memphian  priests, 
Not  of  the  people ;  and  what  did  ye  do  ? 
What  did  your  leader  teach,  —  because  he  knew 
Not  easily  would  your  sensual  lips  be  wean'd 
From  the  paps  of  your  old  usances  ?     Your  priests 
Took  ephods,  and  the  mystic  stone  of  Trutli  " 
Glitter'd  upon  their  breasts,  your  temples  had, 
Unreck'd  the  prohibition  from  the  Mount, 
Their  Spliingian  Cherubim,  and  brazen  lamps 
Flam'd  in  the  Holy  Place,  and  there  were  cups 


30  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


For  wine-libation,  layers  for  the  wash, 
And  purifying  waters,  incense  reek'd 
Frofii  the  horn'd  altars,  daily,  mom  and  eve, 
And  knives  were  busier  with  the  victims'  tlu-oats 
Than  in  the  older  time  when  Abram  saw 
The  smoking  furnace  and  the  burning  torch 
Pass  in  his  dream  betwixt  the  sever' d  parts 
Of  the  slain  creatures,"  butcher'd  unto  Him 
Wlao  asks  not,  nor  will  take,  a  grosser  gift 
Than  the  self-stricken  heart.     More  senseless  still, 
And  more  profane,  ye  put  the  seal  of  God 
On  the  old  custom  in  Rameses  taught. 
And  mutilated  glorify' d  a  rite 
Your  conquerors  laugh  at. " 

Peop.  Down  with  him  at  once  1 
Down  with  the  pagan  ! 

Scrihe.  Let  him  rant  no  more. 
Stone,  stone  him  ! 

Nic.  Will  ye  ?     What !  for  being  free  ? 
Are  ye  so  gorg'd  with  liberty,  ye  seek 
To  fetter  thought,  to  put  a  servant's  chain 
Ujion  the  outspoken  tongue  ?     Shame  on  ye  aU  1 
Bethink  ye,  were  you  right,  as  you  are  not, 
Who  sits  now  in  your  Judgment.     Have  a  care : 
The  Roman  arm  is  long. 

Peop.  Then  bid  him  cease. 
He  hath  spoken  over  mucli. 

Nic.  He  waves  his  liand. 
Let  him  conclude. 


ACT    II.    SC.    1.  31 

Jesus.  If  yc  would  put  the  knife 
To  the  protruding  vices  of  the  lieart, 
Lop  off  to  God  one  sin  of  all  the  mass, 

Though  even  then  enough  of  ill  were  left 

Bsop.  Ah,  ah,  be  silent.     This  our  king !     Away  ! 
Another.  We  have  respect  for  the  Elder,  not  for  him. 
Away  with  liim  ! 

J(jsus.  O  Jerusalem  — 

Peoj).  Away  ! 
Jesus.  —  Thou  who  the  prophets  stonest,  and  to  death 
Givest  the  wise  God  sends  thee,  with  what  love 
"Would  I  thy  children  gather  'neath  my  wings 
As  the  hen  doth  her  brood  !     But  thou  vnlt  not. 

[  The  multitude  make  angry  demonsti'ationa, 
some  even  tahing  up  stones. 

NicoDEMUs  and  Joseph  lyut  themselves^ 

^former  icith  loldness,  the  latter  timidly,  hefore 

Jesus  and  wave  them  had:     Jesus  is  led  off 

Tyy  his  Disciples  ;  and  the  People  disperse  tumultuously. 


32  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


Scene  n. 

Before  the  Procurator's  Palace. 

Pontius.     Caiaphas. 

Pon.  Camilla  reads  your  books.     I  have  heard  her  tell, 
A  man  who  on  the  Sabbath  gather' d  sticks 
Was  by  your  leader  Moses'  order  stoh'd. 
Can  that  be  so  ? 

Cai.  It  is  so  wiitten. 

Pon.  Then, 
How  the  two  sons  of  Aaron,  the  High-priest, 
Were  wrapp'd  in  flames  because  their  censers  held 
A  fire  that  was  not  hallow' d.     Stands  that  so  ? 

Cai.  'T  is  so  set  down. 

Pon.  And  dost  thou  lend  it  faith  ? 

Cai.  Such  is  my  duty. 

Pon.  Lo  then  what  thou  mak'st 
Thy  God  to  be,  or  Avhat  thou  sufferest  still 
Thy  peo2)le  to  believe  Him  !     Canst  thou  name 
A  worshiiJ  that  is  bloodier,  as  there  are 
No  annals  more  atrocious  than  your  own  ? 
And  with  such  faith,  with  records  that  make  pale, 
Where  they  astound  not,  by  their  huge  excess 
Of  rational  puuition,  or  arouse 


ACT    11,    SC.    2.  33 

Doubts  of  their  verity,  or  provoke  a  laugh 
At  the  Avild  antics  of  a  senseless  code 
That  satiri/.es  justice,  —  on  such  faitli, 
And  boasting  such  misdeeds  — 

Cni.  I  boast  them  not. 
Pon.  Your  bloody  amials  do.     —  Thou'dst  bring  to  death 
This  Jesus  ( lo  the  exemplar  to  your  text 
Of  heavenly  mandate  I  )  who  would  teach  your  race 
A  wholesomer  belief.     His  Jove  is  one 
Of  mercy  and  love,  forbearing,  full  of  peace ; 
Yours,  Moses'  god,  who  sits  behind  the  vail, 
Invisible  between  the  outspread  wings, 
A  sanguinary  tyrant,  to  whose  heart 
"War  is  a  pastime,  and  v/ho  makes  not  more, 
If  we  believe  his  servants,  than  one  meal 
Of  thrice  a  thousand  men.  '^ 

Cni.  It  grieves  me  much 
Thou'lt  speak  in  so  light  wise  on  such  a  theme. 
■    Were  it  worth  arguing,  v>'ell  might  I  oppose 
Rome's  patron  godhead,  and  Bellona's  priests 
Smear'd  with  the  Ijlood  of  their  own  bodies  shed 
By  self -incision,  or  your  All-Good  Jove, 
To  whom  Busiris  sacrific'cl  his  guests. 
Till  mad  Alcides,  bloodier  than  he, 
Bound  him  in  turn  to  his  own  altar. 

Pon.  Vain 
Your  parallel  and  misplac'd.     Alcides  mates 
Your  Danite  Samson,  passion's  slave  like  him. 
And  like  him  fabulous.     Put  all  your  gods, 


34  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


From  the  Suu,  first  of  worships,  to  the  last 
And  least  of  all,  the  monstrous  lirood  that  swarm 
In  Coptiau  temples,  bastards  of  that  land 
(  Or  spawn'd  of  its  procreant  river-slime)  whose  faith 
Enfolds  all  nature,  —  put  them  in  one  group, 
Give  them  three  heads,  or  make  their  necks  uphold 
The  bull's  fierce  image  or  the  kindly  dog's, 
Let  them  lap  human  gore,  or  feed  tliem  milk, 
Wliich  is  comelier  sacrifice,  shake  their  fabled  names 
Together  in  one  uni,  I  'd  thrust  my  hand 
Amid  the  immortal  lot,  and  which  came  out 
Foremost  should  serve  as  type  of  all  the  rest, 
Emblems  of  that  First  Cause  which  I,  as  thou, 
Believe  but  understand  not,  and  whose  form, 
And  attributes,  and  name,  of  needs  must  come 
Out  of  the  molding  of  the  human  brain, 
Which  nothing  fashions  but  f-i'om  what  it  sees. 
Cai.   So  this  fanatic  teaches. 

Pan.  Doth  he  so  ? 
Wliy  so  Camilla  vouches.     Then  his  creed 
Will  make  you  humbler,  wiser,  better  men. 
Wliat  wouldst  thou  with  it  ?      Wouldst  thou  have  the 

man 
Forswear  his  thoughts  ?     I  would  not  give  up  mine, 
No,  not  to  be  Rome's  emperor. 

Cai.  'T  is  well, 
Wliile  they  are  thine  ;  but  put  them  on  the  tongue, 
The  Emperor  may  stop  them.     Lo  tliou  all 
I  ask  for  this  demoniac.     Will  he  keep 


ACT   II.   sc.   2.  35 

His  thoughts  in  tlioir  own  chambers,  not  the  vaU 
Of  the  most  lioly  place  shall  he  to  me 
More  sacred,  nor  the  awful  ark  itself 
Shield  better  from  ol)struction.     'T  is  their  sj^read, 
AVing'd  by  the  common  air,  to  take  deep  root 
And  sprout  in  thousand  places,  tliis  alone 
That  unto  me,  the  head  of  those  who  plant 
And  prune  Jehovah's  vineyard,  makes  them  count 
More  tlian  the  empty  I)recze  that  bears  them  round. 
Pon.  But  doth  the  vineyard  suffer  from  the  weeds, 

Tliou  may'st  their  root-stocks  pluck  up  one  by  one  ; 
Thou  canst  not  stop  the  unfettered  air  from  J^eai-ing 
The  fl^dng  seecUets.     Let  the  man  rave  on. 
Ten  thousand  of  his  clamors  will  not  blight 
One  vine  of  all  your  faith.     'T  is  no  small  thing 
To  choke  up  superstition.     This  attest 
Your  patriarchs,  priests  and  prophets,  judges,  kings, 
Psalmists  and  proverb-men,  fi-om  Moses  do^-n 
To  the  last  seer  that  threatened  and  that  howl'd. 
Canst  thou  with  one  man's  carcase  dam  the  tide 
^  Of  the  eternal  sea  ?     Through  countless  years 
The  customs  of  your  faith  liave  plung'd  their  roots 
Deeper  and  deeper  m  your  people's  heart. 
Wliat  shall  upheave  them  ?     What  may  overgrow 
Their  rank  luxuriance  ?     The  tumultuous  voice 
Of  one  mean  Nazarite  ?  the  fungus  shoot 
Of  casual  eloquence  ?     Not  did  he  blow 
A  daily  tempest ;  not  were  every  seed 
He  scatter'd  to  spring  up  a  thousand  fold. 


36  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Where  superstition  once  lias  taken  root, 

The  plants  of  reason,  truth,  and  common  sense, 

Share  but  by  patches  here  and  there  tlie  soil. 

Cai.  If  that  were  all,  your  sower-seer  might  blare 
Till  his  cheeks  burst  and  every  grain  were  spent 
Out  of  his  spiritual  seed-bag.     There  is  more.  — 

Pon.  Ay,  I  have  heard.     He  levels  at  your  place. 
The  sharp  truths  of  his  tenets  bore  like  moles 
Under  your  vincplots,  or  like  battering-rams 
Butt  as  a  hundred  men  against  your  walls. 
Shake  not ;  your  hierarchy  ■will  not  fall 
While  bigotry  and  pride  of  race  uphold 
The  old  foundation,  and  the  breastplate  shines, 
And  purple,  gold,  and  scarlet  make  your  robes 
An  eye-joy  to  the  crowd,  who,  as  with  us, 
Find  in  this  pomp,  and  in  the  censer's  smoke, 
And  butcher' d  and  Ijurnt  victims,  and  the  rites 
Which,  mystical  to  them,  they  must  not  sl)are, 
Something  that  wraps  the  senses  and  wakes  awe 
Of  the  unknown  supei'nal,  and  the  more 
That  they  are  hred  to  it,  almost  from  the  hour 
Tliey  cast  their  swaddlingcloths. 

Cai.  Thou  wilt  not  list. 
I  might  complain  that  Pontius  scants  thereby 
My  due  of  courtesy,  who  not  keep  him  here. 
In  the  chill  air,  to  vaunt  my  nation's  forms, 
Or  set  the  God  of  Sinai  o'er  his  own. 
The  dwellers  in  Olympus.     If  the  mole 
Burrows  my  vineyard,  it  concerns  thee  not : 


ACT    II.    SC.   3.  37 

liut  if  the  ram  is  swung  against  the  wall 

Of  Roman  mastery,  't  is  the  Roman's  heed 

To  sec  the  iron  head  smash  not  the  stones 

Or  the  shook  wall  bulge  inward.     Through  the  breach 

This  Jesus  strides  to  conquest. 

Poll.  Over  what  ? 
Are  we  a  handful  ?  or  your  Jews  a  race 
Of  arm'd  Goliatlis  ? 

Cai.  Da\'id  was  a  youth, 
A  sling  his  weapon  ;  yet  the  giant  fell. 
This  Jesus,  thou  hast  heard,  his  rabble  make 
To  be  a  distant  offslioot  from  the  stem 
Of  Jesse's  royal  son.     No  doubt,  a  tale 
Made  for  a  purjjose  :  Ijut  that  jjurpose,  what  ? 
In  the  crowd  met  to  hear  him  in  the  vale, 
And  only  now  disjjers'd,  was  one  that  cry'd, 
Flouting  him,  "  This  our  King  !  "     The  scoff  had  faU'd, 
Had  not  the  crown  been  talk'd  of,  or  in  thought. 

Pon.  To  think  and  make  are  different,  —  more  apart 
Than  brain  and  body,  hj  whose  action  each 
Is  separately  determin'd.     Not  mere  thought      » 
"Will  batter-in  the  wall ;   or,  if  it  do, 
I'll  pitch  him  o'er  the  battlements  more  quick 
Than  by  the  breach  he  entcr'd.     Edepol ! 
It  were  brave  sport  to  see  my  men  with  clubs 
Scatter  the  whole  vain  mummery,  as  thou  wott'st 
They  did  witli  the  water-bubble,  when  your  Jews 
Grudg'd  the  Jove's  tribute  taken  for  their  good." 

Cai.  But  why  desire  the  tumult  ?  when  for  kings, 


38  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


Crown'd  or  discrown' d,  't  is  apt  to  call  in  play 

Weapons  of  more  than  wood,  and  blood  may  swell 

The  basis  of  thy  bubble.     It  were  best 

It  did  not  rise  at  all ;  for  treasure  spent 

And  men's  lives  squander'd  make  such  inward  strife 

Costly  amusement,  be  it  the  revolt 

Of  misproud  Absalom  or  the  steep  down-fall 

Of  madden' d  Saul. 

Pon.  In  short, —  for  likes  me  not 
The  chance  of  popular  tumult  more  than  thee,  — 
What  wouldst  thou  do  ?     Camilla  vows  the  man 
Is  innocent  of  wrong  intent.     If  so, 
I  have  said  he  shall  not  suffer. 

Gai.   Grant  it  so. 
What  then  ?  he  is  centre  of  a  sect  whose  aim 
Would  overthrow  the  priesthood,  in  the  dust 
Of  the  demolish' d  temple  rear  the  fane 
Of  a  new  godhead,  and  upon  the  throne 
Of  fallen  Judah  seat  the  promis'd  Prince 
Our  race  stiU  look  for.     Patience  yet  awhile. 
I  say  not  they  can  do  it,  nor  forget 
How  every  like  attempt  against  Rome's  power 
Has  been  the  swelling  of  a  winter's  stream 
Which  floods  the  land  awhile,  then  soon  subsides, 
Shrinks  in  its  channel  and  with  summer's  heat 
Shows  scarce  a  brook.     Yet  the  stream  swells  not  less. 
What  would  I  do  ?     This :  buUd  the  low  banks  up 
Before  the  rise,  or  stop  it  at  the  sluice.  , 

Pon.  In  other  words  ? 


ACT    II.    SC.    2.  39 

Cai.  Arrest,  with  thy  pcnnit 
This  mischief-maker,  cut  the  main  stream  off 
Which  swells  the  flood  of  popular  discontent 
And  makes  it  dangerous. 

Pan.   Will  it  then  subside  ? 
WiU  not  thy  dykes  and  dams  swell  for  the  time 
Tlie  tossing  waters  ?     If  the  mass  desire 
This  Nazarenc,  his  violent  taking-off 
Or  even  restraint  may  lift  the  pent-up  flood 
To  sudden  ovci-flow.     IMyself,  I  reck 
The  danger  little  ;  on  our  beetling  rocks 
These  surges  dash  in  vain  ;  the  f  I'othing  tide 
Washes  your  laud  alone. 

Cai.  There  is  a  change 
Come  o'er  the  mass.     The  man's  o'erboiling  zeal 
Has  carry'd  him  from  his  vf?tx  against  the  rich, 
Which  flattered  their  despite,  to  fierce  assaults 
On  their  own  vices  and  the  bestial  l)onds 
(  So  dares  he  term  them  )  of  the  ancestral  faith 
He  strains  to  overthrow.     This  very  day 
They  were  about  to  stone  him. 

Pan.  Let  them  so. 
'T  will  save  us  trouble. 

Cai.  But,  the  morrow  come, 
TTiQ  wind  eits  otherwise,  and  their  hands  may  lift 
A  diadem.     If  their  hearts  be  angcr'd  still 
And  cry  for  his  conviction,  will  thy  grace 
Not  step  in  to  prevent  it  ? 

Pon.  "WTiat  they  will, 


40  THE    NEW    CALVAKY 


In  what  concerns  them  solely,  let  them  do. 
What  is  't  to  me,  so  Rome  he  not  aggriev'd  ? 
Cat.  Thanks.     I  salute  thee,  Pontius. 

Pon.  Be  thou  well. 


Scene  III. 
The  abode  of  Jesus.      Evening. 
Jesus.     Nicodemus  entering. 

Jesus.  Unto  my  humble  home  what  brings  the  Elder  ? 

Nic.  A  twofold  motive.     As  the  hind,  't  is  sung, 
Pants  for  the  brook,  so  is  my  soul  athirst 
For  knowledge,  and  I  come  to  drink  it  pure 
At  the  fountain  built  in  thee,  and  would  preseiTe 
From  violence  the  basin's  rim. 

Jesus.  Thou  art  kind. 
I  owe  thee  already  for  thy  timely  aid  ; 
Perhaps  for  life. 

Nic.  Dost  thou  esteem  it  such  ? 
Why  make  it  needful  ?     While  thou  didst  inveigh 
Against  the  moral  stench  which  makes  our  class, 


ACT  ir.  sc.  3. 

FuU  of  corrupting  sores  of  vice  and  pride, 
Loathsome  as  Lazarus,  in  tliy  proverb,  crouching 
Crumb-fed  and  hound-lick\l,  thou  wast  safe;  the  poor 
Ilemm'd  thee  around  applausive :  now  thou  turn'st 
Thy  mirror  on  themselves,  they  take  up  stones 
To  dent  its  surface,  nor  would  feel  regret 
Did  tliey  crush  botli  together. 

Jesus.   Wouldst  thou  then 
That  I  should  wear  two  faces  ?  have  one  hand 
Rais'd  to  chastise  the  Pharisee  and  Scribe, 
While  with  the  other  strokiug-down  tlie  shag 
Of  the  crouch'd  multitude  ?     So  't  were  best^indeed, 
Must  I  use  both  diversely ;  but  between 
The  vice  and  beastly  habits  of  all  ranks. 
Those  moral  sores  thou  speakcst  of,  whose  stench  - 
Makes  the  soul  sicken  and  shrink  back  dismay'd 
As  from  the  scurf'd  leper,  is  tliere  nought  distmct, 
Save  that  one  sits  in  purple  and  deep-fiing'd, 
While  through  the  rags  of  Lazarus  peer  out 
Tlie  scabs  all  pomt  at. 

Nlc.  Yet,  treat  both  alike, 
The  puqiled  glutton  and  the  Ijeggar  fed 
With  refuse  and  scurf-blotch'd,  where  wilt  thou  stand  ? 
The  rich  are  not  thy  friends,  wiU  never  be  : 
Must  the  poor  hate  thee  too  ?  as  men  stiU  hate 
The  eyes  that  pierce  them  through,  the  tongue  that  dares 
Spit  at  their  self-love,  which  is  foremost  still, 
Exacts  the  damtiest  handling,  and  stoops  not, 
Saving  to  be  caress'd.     Not  thus  thou  'It  reach 


41 


42  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


The  crown  men  say  thou  aim'st  at. 

Jesus.  Dost  thou  lend, 
Thou,  credence  to  such  tale  ? 

Nic.  Not  if  thou  sayst 
It  has  no  truth. 

Jesus.  I  say  it,  and  with  thought. 
I  would  not  be  their  king,  not  might  I  be 
With  safety  to  themselves,  not  did  the  bird 
Of  Rome  her  vast  wings  fold  about  my  head, 
Defending  and  caressing,  not  would  Rome 
Herself  step  back  and  ]:)id  our  race  be  free. 
Nie.  "Wliy  not,  when  so  't  were  better  ? 

Jesus.  I  am  here 
To  teach,  not  rule.     To  govern,  must  I  cease 
To  teach ;  and  't  is  the  Preacher's  rod  they  need 
More  than  his  father's  sceptre. 

Nic.  Thou  sayst  well. 
Perverse  and  self- opinion' d,  sensual,  false, 
Bloody  and  contumacious,  were  they  left 
To  choose  their  king  to-morrow,  ere  the  night 
They  'd  come  to  blows,  and,  into  factions  split, 
Set  up  another.     Mutinous  and  ingrate. 
Slaves  to  ol^servance,  chain' d  by  priestly  rule 
To  superstition's  galley,  where  the  oars 
Are  ignorance  and  the  rusty  iron  prow 
Points  but  one  way,  while  drifts  the  clumsy  keel 
Rudderless  through  a  tideless  sea  more  dead 
Than  that  of  Sodom,  as  they  were  at  first 
When  the  strong  shepherd  crafty  drave  the  flock. 


ACT    II.    SC.    3.  43 

straggling  and  looking  backward,  past  the  Mount, 

Up  from  regretted  Gossen,  such,  alas, 

Tliey  will  be  ever,  till  shall  pass  away 

Their  shadow  as  a  nation,  and,  dispers'd, 

Mix'd  with,  but  not  of,  populous  Gentile  tribes, 

Tliey  lose  their  power  of  mischief,  dwindling  down, 

Despis'd,  down-trodden,  yet  opinion'd  still, 

Unfit  to  be  a  nation,  but  still  fit 

To  bear  mean  burdens,  toilers  in  the  ditch 

And  mortar-pits,  as  when  scourge-driven  to  build 

Strong  Peitho  and  Ramcssa.     Seest  thou,  I 

Am  too  a  prophet,  when  the  bitter  heart 

Prompts  to  forebodements. 

Jesus.  Wliich  are  merely  true. 
Yet  thou  art  of  this  sinful  race. 

Nie.  And  thou. 
And  was  not  Solomon  ?  and  thy  namesake,  he, 
Sirach's  wise  son,  whose  lessons  are  more  worth 
Than  all  the  Prophets  ? 

Jesus.  Ay,  so  Jordan  flows 
Through  GalUee's  sweet  sea,  across  the  plain 
And  desert,  to  the  Salt  Sea,  joining  both. 
Even  Sodom  had  one  man  who  might  be  sav'd, 
Though  he  did,  after,  evil.     "Were  thy  class. 
Even  in  the  Sanhedrim,  just  and  bold  like  thee, 
Or  virtuous  as  thy  gentler,  low-voic'd  friend, 
Joseph  of  Ramatha'im,  I  should  turn 
My  hands  to  labor :  Israel  then  were  pure 
As  Abram  was  at  Mamre,  ere  he  sought 


44  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


Ur  of  Chaldea,  and  from  Haran  went 
To  gather  from  Mizra'im's  '*  priests  the  rite 
(If  that  indeed  he  practised  it,  and  not 
'T  is  so  pretended,  that  we  may  not  seem 
To  have  taken  it  from  that  greater  land  whose  race 
We  mix'd  and  were  confounded  with,  to  whom 
We  were  perhaps  enslav'd  four  hundred  years  — 
Such  is  the  count )  the  rite  whose  practice  scoffs 
At  nature  and  whose  precept  blasphemes  God. 
Nlc.  Rabbi,  that  utterance  gives  me  no  despite  ; 
But  to  the  mass,  which  ponders  not,  but  hugs 
To  its  breast  its  ugly  errors,  and  makes  blind  faith 
Respond  for  ignorance,  what  else  could  it  sound 
But  insult  and  defiance  ?     Could  thy  light 
Pierce  through  the  crannies  of  their  darken'd  brain, 
Whose  doors  and  windows  bigotry  has  Ijarr'd, 
Well  might'st  thou  wave  in  Heaven's  name  the  torch 
Of  truth  before  them  ;  but  they  dash  it  out, 
Or  turn  it  back  on  the  arm  that  bears  it. 

Jems.  True : 
And  %i  me  thank  thee.     But 't  is  hard  to  hide 
The  fire  which  ceaseless  burns  and  is  too  large 
For  prudence'  screen  to  cover.     To  do  good, 
We  must  not  stop  to  think  if  it  will  grow. 
We  strow  the  seed :  some  falls  on  ban-en  ground, 
Some  the  fowls  gather,  some  the  tares  will  choke. 
Could  I  from  Sodom  save  one  man  and  his. 
Though  one  of  them  should  turn  back  and  be  whelm' d 
By  the  down-pouring  molten  stone,  or  rain 


ACT  II.  sc.  3.  45 

Of  burning  ashes,  and  two  more  but  live 
To  do  most  foully,  I  sliould  lead  liim  up, 
Him  and  his  harlot  daughters  unto  Zoar, 
Nor  heed  the  cinders  and  the  redhot  stones 
That  hurtled  after. 

Mc.  But  when  Lot  himself 
Refuseth  rescue,  and  Gomorra  laughs 
At  the  vain  prophecy,  seeing  not  the  fire 
Yet  in  the  mountains'  bowels  ?  —    But  no  more : 
With  thee  I  could  talk  until  the  middle  watch 
On  themes  like  these,  whereon  thy  wisdom  flows 
A  stanchless  fountain  such  as  I  have  said 
My  soul  has  thirst  for.     :[.et  me  haste  to  say, 
Thou  art  in  imminent  danger.     As  I  came, 
I  saw  the  High-priest  holding  earnest  talk 
"With  the  stern  Procurator.     Hast  thou  heard 
He  hath  offer'd  large  rewards  to  have  thee  taken, 
So  it  be  done  in  privity  without  noise  ? 
Jesus.  I  have. 

Mc.  I  couple  this  and  that,  and  see 
The  thunder  gathering  o'er  thee.     Get  thee  hence, 
Before  it  lightens. 

Jesus.  Wliither? 

A7t'.  Anywhere, 
Wliere  the  sky  lowers  not :  to  Galilee  ; 
To  Mestre  " ;  further,  if  thou  list :  I  will 
So  thou  wilt  let  me,  furnish  means.     But  go  ; 
Forthwith. 

Jesus.  Thou  art  brave  and  good.     I  am  at  my  post 


46  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Wouldat  thou  have  me  desert  it  ? 

Nie.  "VVlien  no  more 
Thou  canst  defend  it  ?  when  to  foes  without 
Traitors  within  are  added,  and  the  gates 
Thou  think' st  to  guard  are  open  set  behind  thee, 
And  the  ground  trembles  both  ways  with  the  tread 
Of  the  encountering  masses,  which  wUl  join, 
While  thou  goest  down  between  them,  crushed  and  scom'd  i 
This  day,  had  Caiaphas  foreseen  the  stonn 
That  darkened  round  thee,  thou  hadst  been  even  then 
Seiz'd  as  evoking  riot.     'T  was  his  doubt 
The  populace  march'd  wath  thee.     Now  it  turns 
And  stops  thy  way,  what  wilt  thou  do  ? 

Jesus.  Abide 
The  shock  thou  speak'st  of,  and  fall  crush'd  and  scomM. 
Nic.     It  is  heroical :  but  is  it  wise  ? 

Jesus.  'T  is  fit ; 
And  that  is  everything.     Why  am  I  here  ? 
When  I  can  teach  no  more,  no  more  may  warn, 
'T  is  meet  that  I  be  render' d  to  that  dust 
Wherefrom  I  sprung  that  from  my  punctur'd  limbs 
The  balm  might  drop  and  underneath  my  shade 
Life's  wayworn  gather.     Haply,  when  my  blood 
Shall  fructify  that  dust,  a  plant  of  grace 
More  precious  than  the  balsam  or  the  palm. 
May  shoot  up  and  become  a  mighty  tree 
Beneath  whose  branches  kingdoms  shall  take  shelter, 
While  everywhere  its  healing  juice  shall  flow, 
Without  incision,  and  enough  for  all. 


ACT  II.  sc.  a  47 

Nic.     It  may  be. 

Jesus.  Nay,  it  \n\\  bo,  if  God  will. 

iV7c.     I  meant  it  so.  —    Then,  thou  wilt  here  abide  ? 

Jesus.     Heaven  willing,  I  shall  here  abide. 

Nic.  Then  be 
His  unseen  wings  above  thee.     What  on  earth 
Man  may  avail  to  help  thee,  sliall  be  done  ; 
Nor  will  my  soul  be  feebler,  that  from  thine 
It  hath  learn'd  to  set  the  fortitude  of  duty 
Higher  than  valor,  and  in  submission  find. 
Least  questioning,  nor  conceiving  of  complaint, 
Where  Heaven's  decrees  bear  hardest,  sweeter  fume 
Than  frankincense  can  yifeld  and  richer  gift 
Than  were  a  thousand  rams.     The  peace  of  God 
Be  with  thee  to  the  end. 

Jesus.  And  with  thy  spuit. 


48  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


Act    the    Third 

Scene  I.     As  in  Act  I.    Sc.  II. 

Mary,  seated  at  the  lattice. 

Enter,  opening  the  door  timidly,  Judas. 

He  hears  a  small  lantern,  and  a  full  panier,  which 

after  he  has  spoTcen,  he  sets  down, 

and  shuts  the  door. 

Ju.     In  darkness  ? 

Ma.  No  ;  the  moon  has  given  me  light, 
More  pleasant  than  thy  lantern.  And  my  lamp  " 
Was  wholly  silent. 

Ju.  I  come  in  time  then. 

3Ia.  No; 
The  night  is  too  far  in.     "What  hast  thou  there  ? 
Ju.     It  is  not  late  ;  the  first  watch  is  scarce  tlorough  : 
I  might  have  better  welcome.     But  I  bring 
on  for  the  lamp,  and  bread,  the  whitest,  best 
Thou  hast  long  seen,  wine,  honey  too,  and  dates, 
And  fuel  for  the  brazier.     Reach  thy  lamp. 
Or  no,  thou  fill  it ;  for  my  hands  are  numb. 
I  '11  make  thee  up  a  fire. 

Ma.  I  want  it  not. 


ACT   III.    sc.  1.  49 

It  is  not  cold.     Wliat  ails  thee  ?     How  thou  tremblest  1 
Ju.     The  air  is  chilly  out.     Do  fill  the  lamp. 
So.     Let  me  light  thee. 

Ma.  Why,  thy  hand  so  shakes 
Thou  scarce  canst  hold  tlie  lantern  !     What  is  this  ? 
Art  thou  not  well  ? 

Ju.  Do  let  me  make  the  fire. 
I  shall  be  better  then.     I  am  so  cold. 
And  with  the  warmth  and  light,  the  dreary  room 

Will  look  more  cheerful.     There  —  already see. 

Ah,  blessed  warmtli ! 

Ma.  Yet  thou  art  trembling  still. 
ITo-w  very  pale  thou  art !  Wliere  hast  thou  been  ? 
Where  didst  thou  get  these  things  ? 

Ju.  Pray  set  them  out. 
When  hast  thou  eaten,  Mary  ? 

Ma.  Not  this  day. 
Jri.     Ah,  so  I  fear'd,  from  what  thou  saidst  last  night. 
Eat,  Mary,  love.     The  fire,  the  light  make  glad ; 
But  it  will  glad  me  more  to  see  thee  eat. 
And  take  thou  of  the  wine.     Fill  me  a  cup. 
I  need  it. 

Ma.  Hast  thou  not  had  wine  enough  ? 
Something  excites  thee. 

Jti.  It  is  not  the  wine. 
I  would  it  was  ! 

Ma.  Thou  wouldst  it  was  ? 

Ju.  I  mean, 
The  cause  were  clearer,  and  would  sooner  cease. 
Vol.  VI.— 3 


50  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Thou  must  not  mind  me.     Let  me  see  thee  eat. 

Ma.  What  is  the  cause  ?     Where  gatt'st  thou  then  these  things  ? 

Ju.    Thou  dost  not  think  I  stole  them  ? 

Ma.  No ;  but  where 
Gatt'st  thou  the  means  ?  or  whence  hadst  thou  the  gift  ? 
Thou  hadst,  I  know,  no  money. 

Ju.  No,  and  all 
That  little  was  left  among  us  is  nigh  spent. 
I  did  not  like  to  ask  it  even  for  thee. 
The  Passover  at  hand.     Thou  art  so  free,  ^ 
Thou  robb'st  thyself  forever,  and  for  those 
Wlio  are  scarce  so  poor  as  thou.     Thou  dost  not  eat. 

Ma.     Thou  wilt  not  answer.     Where  gatt'st  thou  the  means  ? 

Ju.      Dost  thou  suspect  me  ?     I  am  not  a  tliief ; 

No,  nor What  was  that  noise  ? 

Ma.  I  heard  no  noise. 
Why  look'st  thou  round  thee  ?     What  should  make  thee 
fear  ? 

Ju.     It  is  not  fear.     Give,  Mary,  of  the  wine. 

Ma.     Thou  hast  drunk  enough.     And  yet,  thou  art  so  pale  1 

Ju.     It  is  the  cold. 

Ma.  It  cannot  be  the  cold ; 
Thy  hands  are  o'er  the  brazier  :  or  the  cold 
Comes  from  within  thee.     Thou  art  either  ill, 
Or  hast  that  on  the  conscience  which  makes  cold. 
Why  dost  thou  keep  thine  eyes  away,  which  late 
Forever  sought  out  mine  ?     I  am  not  chang'd. 
Dost  thou  no  longer  love  me  ?     Dost  thou  doubt  ? 

Ju.     Doubt  thee  ?     O  Mary  !     Love  thee  ?    If  thou  bidst. 


ACT    III.     SC.    1.  ,  61 

I  will  thrust  my  hand  in  that  fire,  and  hold  it  there 

Till  the  flesh  blackens.     There  is  nought  so  hard 

I  would  not  do  or  suffer  for  thy  sake. 
Jifa.     It  is  but  little  that  I  ask.     Say  then, 

Where  didst  thou  get  thee  money  ?     Hast  thou  more  ? 
Ju.     Have  I  more  money  ?     Yes  —  yes,  I  have  more. 

Eat :  thou  needst  fear  not :  I  shall  have  enough. 

Take  of  the  bread  and  honey,  or  those  dates. 

Let  me  but  see  thee  eat.     'T  -will  warm  me  more 

Than  wine  or  fire-heat.     When  the  morning  dawns, 

I  will  get  thee  meat. 

Ma.  But  yet  thou  tell'st  me  not 

Whence  came  the  means.     I  will  not  eat  till  then. 
Ju.     But  wilt  thou  then  ? 

3Ia.   So  I  be  well  couviiic'd 

'T  was  come  at  fairly. 

Ju.  'T  was  the  willing  gift 

Of  —  of  —     I  ask'd  it    —  of  the  master's  friend, 

The  Elder,  Nicodemus,  whom  I  met 

Coming  at  twilight  fi'om  the  Rabbi's  house. 
Ma.     He  ?  from  the  master's  house  ? 

Ju.  It  is  the  truth. 

He  was  thou  knowcst  in  the  Vale  to-day 

And  sav'd  liim  from  the  angry  crowd. 

Ma.  I  know. 

He  is  well  worthy  to  be  Jesus'  friend. 

That  gave  thee  not  the  right  to  ask  him  alms. 

It  was  at  twilight.     Where  wast  thou  since  then  ? 
Ju.     Since  then  —  since  —  at  the  High-priest's  house  —  I  mean, 


62  ,      THE    NEW    CALVARY 


I  stood  at  the  gate,  to  gather 

Ma.  Gather  what  ? 
What  mak'st  thou  there  at  the  lattice  ? 

Ju.  'T  is  to  see 
How  far  the  moon  is  up.     I  must  be  gone. 
Ma.     And  yet  thou  saidst,  but  now,  it  was  not  late. 
What  took  thee  to  the  High-priest's,  if  indeed 
Thou  wast  there  ? 

Ju.  Dost  thou  doubt  me  ? 

Ma.  Can  I  else  ? 
Thou  dost  so  shuffle.     Look  me  in  the  face. 
Thou  canst  not !     Judas,  Judas  !  by  the  love 
Thou  hast  vow'd  me,  I  adjure  thee  :  wast  thou  there  ? 
Give  me  thy  hand.     It  trembles,  it  is  cold. 
Ju.     I  was  there,  Mary. 

Ma.  Truly  ?     Wliat  to  do  ? 
Take  not  thy  hand  away.     Thou  hadst  been  glad, 
Last  night,  to  have  me  hold  it. 

Ju.  Not  as  now. 
Thou  holdst  it  but  to  try  me.     Let  it  go. 
Last  night,  last  night  —    I  would  it  were  to-night 
Even  as  last  night,  though  I  then  was  mad, 
All  of  thy  love  for  Jesus  :  wo  is  me  ! 
Let  me  go  forth.     Another  time  —  perhaps 
To-morrow  —  I  will  ansAver.     No,  no,  no  ! 
To-morrow  thou  wilt  need  no  answer. 

Ma.  Ah? 
Thou  'It  drive  me  also  mad.     What  is  there  wrong  ? 
What  wouldst  thou  gather  at  the  High-priest's  gate  ? 


A(;t  iir.  so,  1.  53 

«7w.     News  of  the  Rabbi's  safety.     I  had  heard  — 
I  have  told  thee  —  Caiaphas  had  offer'd  late 
Largely  to  have  him  taken  without  noise 
Or  danger  of  the  i^eople.     It  was  said 
The  Sanhediim  would  meet  to-night.     I  went 

After  the  Elder,  following  him  in 

Ma.     Thou  saidst  thou  stood' st  at  the  gate. 

Ju.  I  did.  How  should 
I  enter  in  ?    I  know  not  what  I  say. 

Let  me  be  gone.     I 

Ma.  Is  the  master  sold  ? 
Ju.     How  should  I  know  ? 

Ma.  Thou  saidst  thou  went'st  to  learn. 
What  didst  thou  learn  ?     Could  any  be  so  base 
To  sell  a  man  to  his  enemies  ?  to  take 
Money  for  human  blood  ?     Give  both  thy  hands : 
I  want  to  hold  tliem. 

Ju.  Mary,  let  me  go. 
I  am  waited  for. 

Ma.  By  whom  ?     —  If  such  there  be, 
'T  were  better  for  him  were  a  millstone  hung 
About  his  neck  and  he  cast  in  the  sea, 
The  Sea  of  the  Desert,  to  find  there  his  like 
In  Sodom  and  Gomorra. 

Ju.  Better  far ! 
Ma.     What  means  that  tone  ?     Tliou  art  weeping  too  !'     And 
sobs  ? 
It  cannot  Ije,  that  thou  — 

Ju.  Oh,  let  me  go  I 


54  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Ma.     I  keeiJ  thee  not :  thy  hands  are  loose  in  mine. 
But  how  they  tremble  !     Thou  a  strong  man  too, 
And  young  as  I,  who  am  feeble  and  a  woman  ! 

It  cannot  be Who  waiteth  then  for  thee  ? 

Ju.     The  —  the  Rabbi 

Ma.  Waits  for  thee  ?     And  where  ? 
Ju.     In  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane. 

3Ia.  Alone  ? 
Jit.     No,  with  the  brethren.     I  must  not  be  miss'd. 
Ma.     And  thou  goest  there  for  prayer  ?  for  lessons  ?  thou  ? 
Turn  not  thy  head  away.     It  cannot  be, 
That  thou,  who  swear'st  to  such  love  for  me,  wouldst  dare, 
Wouldst  be  so  heartless,  so  insanely  base, 

To  dare  to 

Ju.  Oh!  oh!  oh! 

Ma.  Is  't  true  then  ?     Say 

It  is  not  true.     But  say  thou  hast  not 

Ju.  Wliat? 
Ma.     I  cannot  name  it.     It  is  so  foul  wrong, 
■  A  crime  so  monstrous,  wickeder  than  liis 
Who  slew  his  brother,  wickeder  than  aught 
The  world  has  known  before,  the  very  word 
Would  crush  thee. 

Ju.  Would  it  might ! 

Ma.  It  is  then  true. 
God  of  our  fathers  !  thou  hast  sold  his  blood  ! 
The  innocent  Rabbi's  !     O,  thou  art  accurs'd 
■    Before  all  men  !     Begone  !     Take  with  thee  all 

Thou  hast  bought  with  thy  blood-money.     Not  the  lamp 


ACT    III.    SO.    1.  55 

Shall  hold  thy  oil.     Behold,  I  pour  it  out. 

These  embers  shtill  not  burn.     Thou  hcar'st  them  hiss 

Under  the  water-di-ops.     It  is  the  sound 

Of  human  execration  in  thy  ears. 

Go  !  to  thy  fate.     Or  no,  I  will  go  first 

To  warn  him,  if  it  may  be.     Stay  thou  here 

Till  I  may  reach  him  ;  then,  begone  forever. 

Never  will  I  speak  word  to  tliee  again.     [Going. 

Ju.     Mary  !  a  word !     Thou  hast  driven  me  akeady 

Ma.     I  drive  thee  ?     It  is  false.     Not  jealous  love, 

Not  envy  even,  have  given  thy  soul  to  Hell, 

But  filthy  avarice. 

Ju.  It  was  then  for  thee. 

-I  say  thou  hast  driven  me  wild.     Thou  mayst  do  more. 

Wilt  thou  not  pause  ?     I  may  undo  my  act. 
Ma.  {qukldy.}  Undo  it?  undo  it?     [Slowly. IJiVii  is  that  pos- 
sible now  ? 
Ju.     I  know  not :  I  can  try.     If  I  can  turn 

The  slot-hounds  from  the  scent,  or  lead  them  false,  — 

If  I  do  this,  at  peril  of  my  life. 

Wilt  thou  forgive  me  ?  hold  me  as  of  old  ? 
Ma.     Eorgivc  thee  ?     Ay,  —  though  thus  thou  wilt  undo 

One  treachery  by  another ;  but  no  more 

Canst  thou,  to  me  or  others,  be  the  same. 

Seek  thy  peace  there  where  I  have  sought  for  mine. 

Where  is  no  anger  and  where  mortal  sins 

Are  weigh' d  with  mortal  frailty,  and  the  heart 

Enters  for  judgment.     But  on  earth,  with  me. 

Thou  canst  plead  notliing.     [Going. 


56  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Ju.  Hear  me  !  hear  !    Not  yet  — 
Ma.     I  will  hear  nothing  more.     Do,  undo,  save, 
If  save  thou  canst,  the  master  ;  but  for  him, 
For  all  of  us,  let  thy  face  be,  as  to  me. 
Now  that  I  turn  from  it,  in  tlie  mind  alone, 
Forever. 

Ju.  Speak'st  thou,  go'st  thou,  thus  ?     Then,  go. 
Ungrateful  and  flint-hearted,  thou  hast  spoken 
My  death-doom.     Be  niy  blood  upon  thy  head. 
Ma.     'T  will  di'op  unnotic'd,  for  that  other  blood. 

The  innocent  blood,  which,  flooding  all  my  heart. 

Will  make  thine  be  forgotten,  save  as  shed 

In  expiation.     Art  thou  man  enough, 

Thou  wilt  thyself  so  punish.     But  no,  no ! 

No  !  do  it  not !     'T  were  better  thou  shouldst  live 

And  know  remorse.     And  God  thy  spirit  bring 

To  full  repentance. 

Ju.   Gone  !     Forever  gone  ! 
The  last  sounds  of  the  voice  that  was  to  me 
At  all  times  music,  the  light-echoing  feet 
Wliich  my  heart  told  from  thousands,  have  pass'd  now, 
And  the  world  lies  before  me  like  this  room, 
Dusky  and  desolate.     She  is  gone  to  him. 
For  liim.     I  might  have  sav'd  him  ;  and  I  try'd 
To  tell  her,  but  she  would  not  hear,  not  yet 
The  blood-price  is  paid  over,  and  the  part 
Given  in  earnest  of  the  accursed  pact 
Might  easily  be  repaid.     Her  heart  was  full. 
Full  of  him  only.     Let  him  meet  his  fate. 


ACT  III.   sc.  1.  57 

'T  is  but  a  little  sooner  tlian  would  come 
Of  his  own  madness.     Is  it  too  so  sure 
To  be  a  deutli-fate  ?     Power  to  put  out  life 
Is  goue  from  the  Sanhedrim,  and  Pontius'  wiU 
Eschews  all  useless  cruelty.     Be  it  so  : 
I  would  not  liarm  him ;  and  my  pay  is  eam'd 
When  the  hunt  finds  its  quarry.     'T  is  his  fault, 
Who  might  have  rul'd  as  king  and  made  us  rich, 
Who  has  robb'd  me  too  of  Mary's  love,  't  is  his, 
And  hers,  not  mine,  that  I  am  made  thus  base. 
And  should  he  die,  should  I  be  scoru'd,  what  tlien  ? 
Our  fate  is  equal,  and  thou  then  shalt  see, 
Ungrateful,  if  I  am  enough  a  man. 
3* 


58  THE  NEW   CALVAEY 


Scene  IT. 

Night.  —  The  Oarden  of  Oethscmane. 

Jesus, 
with  John,  Suion,  and  others  of  his  disciples. 

Jesus.     Hear  ye  again.     The  sacrifice  of  God 
Is  tlie  bruis'd,  broken,  and  repentant  heart. 
And  this  because  grief  i^urifies  the  heart. 
For  what  we  suffer  is  suffer' d  for  our  good, 
Not  for  His  glory,  which  we  can  enhance 
No  more  than  we  can  multiply  the  stars 
Or  make  more  bright  yon  moon.     But  we  can  add 
To  His  contentment  with  His  work  in  us, 
By  purging  off  our  passions,  by  clean  lives 
In  thought,  in  word,  in  action,  such  as  fit 
The  beings  he  made  straight- visag'd,  not  as  beasts 
Which  gaze  the  earth. 

John.  But,  master,  thou  art  pui-e. 

Jesus.     Pure  by  long  cleansing.     With  the  flesh  and  Devil 
I  have  wrestled  till  the  muscles  of  my  soul 
Are  hardened  to  the  conflict.     Wliat  I  am 
Yourselves  may  be,  if  so  ye  will  but  wash 
In  the  blood  that  is  of  the  spiiit,  and  day  and  night 
Fight  with  temptation. 


ACT    III.    SO.    2.  59 

Si.  Are  we  then  as  thou  ? 
Jes^is.     From  the  same  potter's  wheel.     If  tuni'd  more  thin, 
Guard  ye  the  more  that  brittle  vase,  your  soul. 
Remember,  I  am  l)ut  the  humble  son 
Of  a  poor  joiner,  train'd  to  do  his  work, 
Till,  fiU'd  by  Heaven  with  longings  for  the  task 
It  had  set  before  me,  and  for  which  I  deem'd 
It  had  made  me  fit,  I  labor'd  and  grew  strong 
In  the  great  mystery  which  I  teach  to  you. 
Yet  men  will  strive,  yourselves  will  haply  strive, 
To  accord  wild  proijhecies  of  what  may  not 
Ever  have  issue  vdth  wluit  now  has  come 
And  what  shall  come,  will  make  me  spring  direct 
By  a  long  line  of  names  pick'd  up  at  wall, 
.iViid  of  descents  which  never  could  be  trac'd 
Even  were  they  real,  from  Jesse's  royal  son, 
Humble  as  I  at  first,  but  on  whose  throne, 
Unsteady  with  men's  l:)lood  and  hung  with  clouds, 
I  would  not  sit  though  dragg'd  to  it. 

Si.  Yet  men  say, 
Master,  thou  art  God's  son. 

Jesus.  As  ye  are  all 
In  the  great  Psalmist's  sense  the  sons  of  God. 
Who  says  it  in  another  sense  blasphemes. 
Wliat !  He  who  made  the  fix'd  earth  and  the  seas, 
The  sun  that  moves  around  us,  and  the  moon 
That  takes  his  place  sometimes  by  night,  when  stars 
Bum  fewer  in  the  heavens  (  see  ye  now  ), 
Beyond  this  vault  above  us  He  who  rales, 


60  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Whose  vail  no  man  hath  lifted,  and  by  whom 
Live  all  things  that  have  being,  Wlio  was  at  first, 
When  the  Earth  empty  lay  and  without  form, 
And  Who  shall  be  when  darkness  shall  again 
Brood  o'er  the  waters,  He  !  break  through  the  bonds 
Himself  hath  put  on  nature,  to  create 

In  a  weak  woman's  bowels Let  us  pass 

The  audacious  fancy  by.     Its  very  sound 
Is  blasphemy  more  heinous  than  the  worst 
Our  sires  repaid  with  stoning.     Yet  a  day 
Will  come,  when  with  the  labor  of  a  life 
A  thousand  books  shall  argue  on  this  theme. 
Caught  from  the  vaporings  of  a  prophet's  brain 
And  jjoet's  myth,  the  impossible  monstrous  form 
Of  Asian  fiction,  and  the  insane  idea 
Of  minds  aspiring  to  be  great  in  phrase 
By  superclimljing  nature.     This  shall  seize 
The  subtlety  of  priestcraft  for  its  own, 
And,  with  ostent  of  awe  but  inward  laugh, 
Handing  it  to  the  popular  belief, 
Fix  it  forever.     For  the  vulgar  mind 
Thinks  rarely  for  itself  and  fears  to  unhasp 
The  doors  of  mysteries  which  faith  hath  lock'd 
And  flung  away  the  key.     Thus,  see  ye  to  it, 
After  my  death  that  none  of  your  vain  talk 
Go  to  confirm  delusion."" 

Si.  Could  that  be? 
Know  we  not,  master,  your  four  brothers,  see 
Often  your  sisters. 


ACT    III.    SC.   2.  61 

Jesus.  But  when  ye  are  gone, 
And  they  are  gone,  like  me,  where  is  no  eiir, 
And  whence  comes  no  correction,  tlien  shall  sj^rout 
Fables  more  thick  than  grapes  on  Sibmah's  vines ; 
The  dead  shall  bloom  like  Jericho's  shrank  rose, 
And  without  waterdrops  ;  the  lame  shall  walk ; 
And  they  who  wake  from  epileptic  sleeps 
Shall  find  their  tortured  bodies  give  egress 
To  pent-up  devils.     Nothing  shall  be  held 
Too  gross  for  maintenance  where  the  popular  faith 
Requu'es  upholstering,  and  the  cause  of  truth 
Shall  \nt\i  Truth's  sophists  justify  a  lie. 
Words  shall  be  put  in  mouths  that  spake  them  not, 
And  history  be  interpolated  °' ;  cries 
Of  disbeliever,  god-denier,  put  down 
The  uprisen  doubter ;  and  perhaps  the  cross, 
The  sword,  and  fire,  and  desolating  wars 
Cover  with  blood  and  ashes  Thought's  free  work, 
Wliere  grav'd  too  legible  to  be  efPac'd. 
Tlien  shall  old  failles  be  reviv'd,  the  rant 
Of  rhapsody  and  the  poet's  swelling  phrase 
Find  literal  meaning  that  bestaggers  sense  ; 
Men  shall  make  God  descend  to  do  an  act 
Needless  and  futile  and  against  Himself,'*'' 
And  bastardize  me  that  I  may  not  sin 
Against  prediction. 

John.  Master,  what  means  that  ? 
Jesus.     Haply  I  speak  what  ye  not  imderstand. 
But  men  shall  after  you.     When  I  shall  die. 


62  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


(  And  I  foretell  ye  that  the  end  is  near, ) 
Take  heed  ye  set  not  down  my  torture's  groan, 
The  sweat  of  weakness  and  the  bubljling  blood 
Drawn  by  the  deathsmen,  as  atonement  made 
And  destin'd  for  men's  sins.     There  is  none  such. 
Each  answers  for  his  own.     But  in  the  count. 
He,  who  knows  all  things,  will  against  the  ill 
Set  the  temptation,  set  that  fearful  weight, 
The  heaviest  in  the  record,  the  black  seed 
Sown  in  us  ere  our  birth,  whose  growth  no  care 
Can  root  up  wholly,  and  to  overgrow 
Costs  a  life's  toil,  the  watering  by  the  heart 
And  delving  of  the  mind. 

John.  But  in  the  law, 
A  goat  is  made  to  bear  the  general  sin 
And  led  into  the  wilderness.  , 

Jesus.  To  die. 
Food  of  the  Jordan's  lion.     Thus  that  beast, 
The  tyrant  of  the  desert  and  the  wold. 
Bloody,  ferocious,  butchers  for  the  Lord 
The  harmless  victim,  and  subserves  His  priest ! 
So  shall  my  murderers  make  my  body's  life 
Sin-offering  to  that  Highest  who  might  crush 
Ten  thousand  such  by  letting  fall  his  hand. 
Wliy,  Balaam's  ass  was  wiser,  and  the  boy. 
Tongue-tied,  brain-wilder'd,  whom  his  sorrowing  kin 
Brought,  hoping  for  my  cure,  who  could,  alas. 
But  grieve  with  them,  more  heart-sick  than  were  they 
Who  were  inur'd  to  the  horror,  why  that  poor  boy 


ACT    III.    SC.   2.  63 


Was  scarce  more  idiotic  !     Think  ye  too, 

That  ye  blaspheme  His  justice.     How  should  blood 

Of  innocent  victims  wash  out  human  guilt  ? 

Believe  it,  if  yourselves  have  thought  of  right, 

Have  jjity,  have  understanding  of  some  things, 

The  Evcr-floAving  Source  of  pity,  and  right. 

And  infinite  knowledge,  the  Pervading  Fire, 

Of  which  our  being  is  the  least  of  sparks, 

Upshooting  for  an  instant  in  the  air. 

Then  sunk  to  sight  and  sense,  plays  not  such  tricks 

As  would  shame  mortal  judges.     ]\Ioses'  act 

Was  a  formality ; "'  but  the  after  time 

Will  make  it  parent  of  a  thousand  frauds, 

And  priests  sliall  say  to  sinners,  "  Give  of  tliis: 

It  shall  redeem  the  soul  here  and  in  Hell 

From  penal  torment."     Wo  the  day  for  me, 

For  the  pure  faith  I  would  infuse  in  men. 

Drawing  it  from  my  breast  as  mothers  yield 

The  milk  of  their  dear  bodies,  wo  that  time, 

Wlien  priests  shall  haply,  taking  of  my  blood, 

Siirinkle  it  on  the  altar  for  men's  sins. 

And  say,  before  the  mercyseat  of  God, 

"  This  is  alone  atonement,  and  without 

Is  no  man  justify' d.     God  condemns  you  all ; 

But  he  who  was  your  scapegoat,  on  his  head 

Aaron  has  laid  both  hands.     Be  sooth'd,  be  free : 

Through  the  thick  amior  of  your  iron  faith 

Hell's  javelins  shall  not  pierce.     But  unto  those 

Who  stand  not  in  the  congregation,  those 


64  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


For  whom  the  sin-goat  bleeds  not,  and  the  smoke 
Of  incense,  burn'd  within  tlie  vail,  clouds  not 
The  mercyseat  with  mystery ;  "  those  who  pray 
With  their  own  lips,  confess  unto  themselves 
Their  daily  sins,  and  'neath  the  lampless  cope 
Of  tlieir  unaltar'd  dwellings,  whei'e  no  vail 
Parts  them  from  cherubim,  or  'neath  the  stars, 
The  grandest  of  all  temple-roofs,  make  vows 
Of  effort  for  amendment,  unto  these 
Comes  no  redemption,  and  their  works  save  not 
From  Satan  and  his  angels." 

John.  What  is  that 
Thou  imply'st,  dear  master  ?     Look'st  thou  to  an  end 
So  bloody  and  so  near  ?     There  floats  no  cloud 
Over  thy  destiny,  and  the  people's  love 
Again  shall  gather  round  thee  with  broad  wings 
To  comfort  and  defend. 

Jesus.  Thou  seest  no  cloud. 
But  from  the  horizon  of  my  troubled  day 
Rise  up  before  my  vision,  and  spread,  those  signs 
The  weather-wise  may  read  portending  storm. 
Heard'st  thou  what  Judas  said  ?     Lo,  where  the  moon 
Shines  with  such  clearness  I  may  almost  see 
The  color  of  thine  eyes,  or  note  the  crisp 
In  Simon's  beard :  yet  they  who  sleep  this  night 
Under  its  splendor  may  awake  to  find 
The  blue  vault  blacken' d.     What  is  that  comes  now  ? 


ACT    III.    sc.   2.  G5 

Enter,  hurriedly,  Mary  Magdalena. 

Ma.     IMastcr,  O  master,  fly  !  fly  for  clear  life  ! 
Judas  has  sold  thee.   {^sohs. 

Jesus.  So  I  fear'd.  —   Sccst  thou  ?  [to  John. 
The  %\'iiid  has  risen. 

John.  Wait  not  till  it  shakes 
The  forest.     Come,  lord,  come  I 

Jesus.  Come  whither? 
Sol)  not,  jjoor  Mary.     Is  it  fear  for  me, 
Or  wounded  love  for  Judas,  wrings  that  heart, 
So  good,  yet  j^assion-feebled  ? 

Ma.  Canst  thou  ask  ? 
But  stay  not !     Mind  mc  not.     Each  moment  brings 
Thy  fate  more  near.     Pray  with  me,  John  !  pray,  Simon  ! 
Cling  to  his  feet ;   or,  if  he  will  not  stir. 
Bear  him  off  witli  you.     In  a  little  wliile, 
The  hounds  are  on  him. 

Jesus.  Ay,  I  hear  their  bark 
Already  in  the  distance.     Where  to  fly  1 
It  is  too  late  to  put  the  water's  wash 
Between  them  and  the  blood-scent.     Let  us  here. 
Even  here,  await  the  hunters. 

Ma.  No,  no,  no ! 
Si.     No,  master  !     Is  tlais  duty  ?     Is  thy  life 
Nothing  to  us  ? 

John.  Wliere  hoj^e  is 

Jesus.  Is  not  safety. 
Look  ye  around.     Save  Simon,  and  thee,  Jolm, 


66  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Is  none  tliat  is  not  frighten' d,  "will  not  flee 
When  the  dogs'  teeth  meet  in  me.     Answer  not : 
I  would  it  was  nbt,  even  for  your  sakes,  so. 
But  Mary,  in  her  great  love,  has  more  lieart 
Than  all  of  ye  together. 

Ma.  Then,  lord,  come  ; 
Come,  for  poor  Mary's  sake !     Come  ! 

Jesus.  Wliither,  child  ? 

Ma.     What  matters  it,  so  time  be  gain'd  ?     The  night 
Is  all  before  us.     Wlaile  they  wander  here. 

Seeking,  not  finding 

Jesus.  WiU  they  wander  long  ? 
The  prey  escap'd,  they  will  not  search  his  lair, 
But  track  him  onward. 

3Ia.  But  it  may  be  late : 
Judas  may  dally.     He  imply'd  as  much. 
Is  fuU  of  terror  at  his  own  act.     Come  ! 
It  is  no  time  —  forgive  me  —  now  to  weigh 
Chances  or  reasons.     O,  if  with  my  arms 
I  could  uijlift  thee,  and  despite  thyself 
Bear  thee  to  safety,  bear  thee  to  some  place 
Mo]"e  hid  and  distant,  I  would  not  stand  here, 
Imploring,  weeping.     Come,  O  master,  come  ! 
Come,  Jesus  !     Come,  my  soul's  lord,  come  !     Ye  men, 
Wliy  stand  ye  listless  ?     Take  liim  up  by  force. 
O  that  I  had  your  sinews  !     Though  my  blood 
Should  gush  out  at  my  throat,  I  would  not  stop, 
Till  he  were  hidden,  or  myself  dropp'd  dead. 

Jesus.     Mary,  kind  Mary  —  (  God  for  tliy  much  love 


ACT    III.     SC.   3.  67 

Bless  thee  forever  and  assoil  thy  shis  !  ) 
Thou  art  wild  with  pity  and  terror.     Listen  now. 
A  good  man  of  the  Elders,  a  brave  spirit, 
Came  to  me  yesternight,  to  urge  me  flee.  — 

Ma.     And  thou  didst  not ! 

Jesus.  Hush,  hush.     I  would  not  then, 
Because  my  duty  bid  not.     Now  the  peril 
Is  come  more  nigh,  is  on  me,  shall  I  change  ? 
Tlie  will  of  God  hath  doom'd  me  to  this  fate 
Which  now  impends,  or  suffers  it  to  fall, 
Because  my  blood  shall  make  perhaps  the  soil 
I  have  dug  and  water'd  fruitful.     Let  it  flow 
In  His  dread  name,  if  from  the  seed  so  sown 
And  made  to  germinate,  plants  of  heavenly  grace, 
Meek  righteousness,  and  uncomplaining  faith, 
And  human  charity,  and  the  larger  thought 
That  spreads  the  mmd  which  bigotry  constrains, 
Shall  flourish  and  bear  multiplying  fruit. 
I  would  I  were  assur'd  of  that ;  then  fear 
Of  the  coming  horror  would  be  tuni'd  to  hope 
Unshadow'd  by  a  doubt.     Hark  !  see  !     Nay,  see ! 

Si.       The  lights  of  torches ! 

Jesus.  Soon  't  will  be  the  glare. 

Ma.     Art  thou  so  calm  ? 

Jesus.  No,  Mary,  so  resolv'd. 

Ma.  [liieeling.]  O  God,  have  pity  on  liim,  who  has  none 
On  his  own  life,  on  us  !     Thou,  Moses'  God, 
God  of  the  Prophets,  save  him  wlio  is  more 
Than  all  the  prophets,  and  whose  reason  guides 


68  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


Unto  Thee  npward  better  than  the  hxws  ! 
Jesus.     Thou  pray'st  well,  daughter ;  but  pray  better  thus, 
That  I  have  strength  to  bear  what  He  decrees 
And  wisdom  to  apjDrove  it  to  the  last.  — 
Hark,  to  the  tramp  !     And  see,  the  gleam  of  spears  ! 
What !  do  they  come  as  to  a  robber's  band  ? 
Are  ye  so  fearful,  brethren  ?     Ye  will  flee, 
When  they  are  on  us. 

Si.  I  shall  not.     Behold, 
I  am  arm'd,  O  master. 

Jesus.  Put  thou  back  thy  sword : 
'T  will  hurt  thee  more  than  others.     Mary  weeps, 
And  hugs  my  limbs.     She  will  abide  the  test. 
But  ye  will  fly  me,  all ;  even  thou  too,  John  ; 
And  Simon  shall  deny  me.     Hush  ;  they  come  ! 

Enter 

A  small  hand  of  Soldiers,  preceded  hy 

Malchus  and  Judas, 

the  latter  of  whom,  immediately  upon  speaJiing, 

falls  hack  to  the  side  of  the  hand  and 

shrinks  from   ohservation. 

Ju.     There,  that  is  he. 

Si.  Lord,  shall  I  cut  him  down  ? 
Jesus.     Put  back,  I  say,  thy  sword.     Men,  seek  ye  me  ? 
Lo,  I  am  here.     But  suffer  that  the  rest 
Depart  unworry'd. 

Mai.  They  are  gone  at  once : 


ACT    III.     SO.    2.  G9 

They  know  what  is  wholesome.     It  is  thou  wc  want ; 
Thy  vagabonds  are  useless.     Come  along. 
Maky  clings  to  Jesus. 
T?ie  Soldiers  inclose  him  in  their  midst,  IMalchus 
waiting  to  see   them  ^xiss,   while  Jtjdas 
prepares  tofolloio,  his  face  vmffied 
in  his  mantle. 
What  cloth  this  woman  ? 

Jesus.  Mary,  get  thee  home. 
And  God  go  with  thee  ! 

Ma.  No,  no,  no  !     But  yet  — 
A  little  further ! 

Mai.  Let  the  jade  come  on. 
March,  men.     It  is  his  harlot.  —    What  dost  thou, 
Thou  traitor,  stamping  thus  ?  and  with  that  look  ? 
Thy  face  was  better,  cover' d.     Art  tliou  mad? 
Ju.     Ay,  I  am  mad.     Do  thou  thy  duty.     On. 


70  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


Act    the   Fourth 

Scene  I.     In  the  house  of  Caiaphas.     The  Sanhedrim 
assembled. 

Caiaphas.     Nicodemtjs.     Joseph  op  Ramathaim. 
The  Scribe.     And  others  of  tlie  Council. 
Jesus  hpfore  them. 
On  one  side,  certain  Witnesses.     On  the  other,  Malchtts. 

Cai.     Wliat  need  we  more  ?     These  men,  of  simple  faith, 
Unbias'd  by  prejudice,  and  unsway'd  by  hope 
Of  personal  gain,  re-echoing  not  stale  sounds 
Of  popular  rumor,  nor  stuff' d  with  childish  tales, 
Extravagant,  incolierent  and  distort, 
Bandy'd  from  one  to  another  of  the  crowd, 
And  changing  shape  at  each  new  toss,  but  facts 
Themselves  had  witness' d,  these  whose  strong  attest 
Stands  not  unbuttress'd,  but  is  on  aU  sides  propp'd 
By  evidence  from  our  midst,  —  as,  did  we  list. 
Or  need,  it  might,  by  some  constraint,  have  more,  — 

[glancing  at  Nic.  and  Jos. 
These  men  of  worth  before  you  have  made  good 
The  charges  of  sedition,  ambitious  aim. 
Gross  sacrilege  and  blasphemous  contempt 


ACT    IV.     SO,    1.  71 

Of  the  laws  our  hallowed  sires  have  handed  down 
From  him  who  on  the  Mount  of  God  receiv'd 
Mandate  therein  direct;  nor  has  the  accus'd 
Ro[)ly'd  thereto. 

Nic.  Hast  thou  then  sought  reply  ? 

Cai.     He  would  not  answer. 

iY/c.  Not  to  insult.     No  ! 
A  brave  man  never  doth,  when  self-respect, 
And  consciousness  of  right  and  that  retort 
And  anger  would  be  wasted,  seal  his  lips. 

Cai.     "Wilt  thou  then  plead  for  him  ?  for  thou  wast  there, 
In  the  late  tumult,  thou  who  with  thy  friend 
Didst  rescue  the  blasphemer  from  a  fate 
Which  suffered  had  sav'd  the  Sanhedrim  this  pain. 

Nic.     Ay,  I  have  heard  :  't  was  Joseph  and  myself 

Thou  wouldst  constrain  to  proof.     "What  would  that  be  ? 

Not  on  thy  side.     The  Scribe,  who  in  that  crowd 

Heard  the  contemptuous  outcry.  This  our  King  / 

"Would  make  the  popular  longing  and  the  hope 

Of  the  seditious  this  good  man's  reproach. 

Though  I,  and  Joseph,  and  the  very  twelve 

"Who  are  his  constant  followers,  all  have  heard, 

Often,  the  unmistakable  disclaim 

Of  such  an  aspiration.     If  the  mob 

Know  him  their  leader,  find  him  apt  to  climb 

The  steep  of  their  desires,  why  made  they  threat 

To  stone  him  ? 

Cai.  Out  of  reverence  for  the  laws 
And  rites  which  he  denounces.     They  whose  eyes 


72  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Brook'd  not  the  eagle  on  the  House  of  God," 
Nor  hands  would  break  the  Sabbath  albeit  to  save 
Their  leagur'd  city,^°  will  not  suffer  him, 
Their  mimic  projjhet  and  false  Prince  of  Peace, 
Even  while  their  shoulders  strain  to  heave  him  up 
To  his  preposterous  throne,  to  scout  their  rites. 
They  took  up  missiles,  not  against  their  king. 
But  the  traducer  of  their  hoary  faith, 
The  mocking  foe  of  God. 

Nic.   Supijose  that  be,  — 
And  I  gainsay  it  not,  —  it  throws  no  shade 
Of  even  simulate  truth  upon  the  charge. 
What  he  disvouches,  what  I  stand  prepar'd 
In  his  behalf  —  I  ?  others,  wouldst  thou  more  — 
To  show  unfounded,  should  be  held  good  proof 
Against  the  vaporish  fancies  of  a  creed 
Which  is  delusion.     They  who  hold  that  creed, 
Self-taught  expounders  of  i^rophetic  di-eams. 
May  be  seditious.     It  is  not  his  fault. 
Nor  makes  him  rebel  or  to  Rome  or  us. 
His  kingdom,  doth  he  claim  one,  is  the  realm 
Wisdom  inherits,  and  his  sceptre  sways 
Over  the  minds  of  men.     I  would  that  all 
Here  present  were  its  subjects. 

Cai.  Art  thou  one  ? 
Nic.     Ay,  where  its  rule  is  lawful ;  nowhere  else. 
I  said,  not  slaves,  but  subjects.     He  whose  mind 
Predominates  my  own,  whose  knowledge  flows 
In  broader  channels,  from  a  deeper  source. 


ACT    IV.    SC.    1.  73 

Controls  my  brain  and  is,  wheree'cr  my  thoughts 
Follow  his  teaching,  monarch  of  my  soul 
And  master  of  my  ways. 

Cnl.  A  weightless  rod 
Of  qualify'd  allegiance.     May  we  ask 
How  fur  it  rules  thee  ?     Wilt  thou  argue  sane 
Tliis  madman's  rant,  discrediting  his  crime 
Of  dangerous  iiracticc  ?     Shall  we  fold  our  hands, 
"VVliile  ignorant  reform  throws  down  the  Ark, 
Sweeps  out  of  sight  the  miracles  of  God, 
And  points  with  jeering  at  the  mystic  lite 
Enjoin'd  at  Mamre  ? 

Nic.  Every  form  of  faith 
Yields  to  the  wear  of  time  which  all  things  else 
Changes  in  part  or  wholly,  rubbing  down, 
Koshaping,  or  displacing.     What  our  sires 
Found  Tvisc  or  fitting,  in  our  later  age 
May  be  amiss  and  foolish.     Wliat  liave  taught 
Your  cherish'd  ceremonies  ?     What  has  been 
In  history  the  thousand-fold  result 
Of  all  your  multiple  forms  of  pompous  rite 
And  mystical  observance  ?     To  estrange 
The  heart  from  commune  with  the  Invisible  God, 
And  bind  the  senses  only ;  to  transfer 
To  priests,  made  languid  Ijy  a  daily  task 
View'd  as  a  means  of  living  or  a  craft, 
Done  by  routine,  by  habit  of  the  mind. 
With  scarcely  consciousness,  to  transfer  to  them 
The  homage  of  the  individual  soul, 
Vol.  VI.— 4 


74  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


And  substitute  their  monotone  of  cliant, 

Their  frankincense  and  secrets  of  the  vail, 

For  the  mind's  penance.     Thus,  from  time  to  time, 

Has  Israel  turn'd  from  Sinai,  and  the  gods 

Of  heathen  worship  led  away  the  hearts 

Of  Zion's  kings.     Alas,  had  Moses  crush'd 

Outright  all  futile  forms,  taken  by  the  neck 

Idolatry  and  strangled  her,  not  given 

The  beast,  half-smother'd,  to  regain  her  feet, 

We  might  have  built  our  temples  there  where  now 

This  earnest-minded  and  God-fearing  man 

Would  give  us  footing. 

Cai.  What !     And  dar'st  thou  tlius 
Sink  Moses  to  the  flat  of  such  as  he  ? 
Moses,  whose  name  is  next  to  God's  ?     Take  heed 
Lest  on  thy  mantle  fall  the  impious  stains 
Of  this  polluted  Nazarene,  and  thou 
Thyself  be  held  to  judgment. 

Nic.  This  to  me  ! 
Thou  canst  not  threaten  save  with  futile  words 
That  make  derision  for  thyself.     I  am, 
Thanks  to  our  follies  and  our  fathers'  sins, 
Here  under  Roman  power,  and  its  shield 
Guards  wliile  it  shadows.     Thou  canst  not  thy  hand 
Lift  in  punition  even  on  such  as  he 
Save  by  its  will,  and  when  I  speak  my  thoughts 
•-  I  know  't  is  by  that  birthright  of  the  soul 
Which,  shame  to  the  fetters  of  our  slavish  creed, 
Our  conquerors  rob  not  in  religious  faith, 


ACT   IV.    SO.   1.  75 

As  we,  who  fled  in  its  defence  from  Misre, 

"Would  load  it  down  with  chams,  and  make  its  prison 

The  starless  cells  of  ignorant  uuthought 

And  dotard  superstition.     Threaten  me  ! 

Well  I  'm  no  traitor,  even  to  the  trust 

Imply'd  in  fellowship :  a  word  of  mine 

Might  put  the  best  of  you  in  danger. 

Jos.   [aside.  ]  Hush  ! 

Even  for  the  Rabbin's  sake.     Thou  fann'st  the  flames 
Kindled  for  his  destruction.     Be  more  calm. 
Nic.  [hut  openly.]  It  is  too  true.     I  am  doing  what  in  him 
I  blam'd  as  rashness,  and  compress  the  limits 
I  would  unshackle.     But,  with  blood  like  mine, 
Who  can  be  tame  to  malice  that  usurps 
The  staff  of  justice,  and  to  bigot  craft 
That  stamps  the  very  life  out  of  the  faith 
Breath'd  into  us  by  Heaven  ? 

Cai.  What  say  ye  there  ? 
Speak  to  the  Council  only. 

Nic.  They  have  heard. 
This :  that  your  tyranny  abuses  God. 
But  so  it  hath  ever  been,  will  ever  be, 
Where  for  a  time  the  lion  of  the  law 
Has  set  his  talon'd  foot  upon  the  stag. 
Prostrate,  deserted  by  his  timorous  kmd. 
And  di-opping  blood  already  where  the  hounds 
Of  superstition  and  religious  zeal 
Have  fasten'd  to  his  haunches. 

Cai.  Sayst  thou  this 


76  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


To  us? 

Nic.  To  all  men  ;   for  all  time.     In  all 
Religions,  priestly  power  will  stretch  its  hand 
Over  the  throat  of  liberty  of  will, 
Ready  to  gripe  it,  if  it  make  one  move 
For  freer  breathing.     This,  because  its  own 
Is  threatened  by  the  struggle.     Should  this  man 
You  persecute  establish,  by  the  force 
Evolv'd  of  persecution,  all  as  much 
As  by  his  godly  doctrine,  a  new  faith, 
The  time  will  come  its  hierarchs  shall  do 
As  ye  do,  strain  to  stifle  the  strong  breath 
Of  free  opinion,  and  to  put  out  eyes 
That  look  too  nearly  into  their  abuse 
Of  questionable  power  ;  thus  themselves 
Doing  what  they  denounce  as  done  to  him, 
And  founding  tyranny  on  the  hollow  base 
Of  that  soul-freedom  which  from  tyrannous  stuff 
Was  builded  against  tyranny." 

Cai.  Thou  hast  spoken, 
Under  the  Council's  sufferance,  wlio  in  vain 
Have  listened  for  one  plea  in  his  defence 
For  whose  defence  thou  stand'st.     But  I  shall  be 
More  just  than  thou,  as  calmer,  and  shall  take 
From  his  own  lips  all  that  himself  may  urge. 
If  thou  wouldst  aid  him  then,  so  let  him  speak 
Uninterrupted. 

Nic.  If  thou  give  him  scope 
To  explain  away  the  charges,  whose  mere  words, 


ACT    IV.     SC.    1.  77 

Taken  at  the  letter,  have  an  air  of  truth 
False  to  their  inner  meaning  when  they  are  his, 
And,  when  they  2}oint  to  deeds,  so  habit  facts 
That  their  true  shape  is  hidden,  it  is  well. 
But  do  not  thou  discredit  to  thyself. 
Nor  falsify  right  judgment,  asking  that 
Wliich  in  itself  accuses,  and  l)y  words 
Insinuates  evidence,  or  leads  on  the  accus'd 
To  criminate  himself. 

Cai.  Enough,  from  thee. 
Thou,  man  of  Nazareth,  what  hast  thou  to  say  ? 
Jesus.     Notliing. 

Cai.  How  !     Nothing  ? 

Jesus.  Nothing.     And  because 
If  what  I  said  should  tend  to  my  behoof 
Ye  would  not  lend  it  faith,  if  to  my  hurt 
'T  would  not  be  true. 

Cai.  Mark  his  assurance.     Speak 
To  what  we  ask  thee.     What  art  thou  ? 

Jesus.  A  man, 
As  thou  art.''* 

Cai.  Fellow! —    Art  thou  not  a  son 
Of  Joseph,  the  house-joiner  ? 

Jesns.  So  I  have  heard 
My  mother  tell,  and,  holding  her  most  chaste. 
So  I  believe. 

Cai.  Thou  art  not  then  the  man 
That  was  to  come  ? 

Jesus.  Who,  meanest  thou,  was  to  come  ? 


78  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Cai.     He,  the  foretold  Messias.^' 

Jesus.  I  know  none  such. 
Cai.     O  horror  !  hear  !  —    Believ'st  thou  not  the  Prophets  ? 

Hast  thou  no  faith  in  what  they  have  foretold  ? 
Jesus.     When  foretold  truly,  after  the  event. 

There  are  no  prophets.     Wherefore  should  they  come  ? 

If  they  predict,  it  is  to  listless  ears 

Or  unto  doubters.     Doth  then  the  All- Wise 

O'erride  the  laws  Himself  hath  given  to  Nature, 

And  given  thus  in  vain  ?     Doth  He  create 

What  is  to  be  of  none  effect,  or  work, 

Like  men,  in  hope,  without  a  sure  result  ? 

Either  the  so-calPd  Prophets  were  inspired, 

Or  they  were  not.     If  not,  what  they  foretold 

Was  at  the  best  wise  forecast.  — 

Scribe.  Shall  we  liear  ? 
This  is  mere  blasphemy. 

Cai.  Break  not  his  speech : 
His  own  mouth  shall  condemn  him. 

Jesus.  —  If  they  were, 
Then  is  Jehovah  mock'd  by  his  own  works. 
Or  unto  favor'd  men  has  stoop'd  to  talk 
With  futile  purjDOse. 

Cai.  Hast  thou  done  ? 

Jesus.  Thou  hear'st  : 
I  have  answer' d. 

Cai.  What  will  now  the  Elder  say  ? 
Nic.     I  ?     That  the  man  has  spoken  simply  sense. 
Cai.     What !  wilt  thou  too  blaspheme  ?     Are  we  become 


ACT   IV.    SC.   1.  79 

A  senate  of  the  heathen  ?     Shall  the  elect 

Of  GocVs  own  folk  resound  the  applause  of  men 

^Yl\o  are  false  to  God  ? 

Nic.  'T  is  thoy  are  false  to  God 
Who  assign  His  attributes  to  men.     Who  can 
Foresee  the  future,  save,  as  through  thick  fogs, 
Dimly,  by  glimpses,  —  with  experienc'd  eye 
Forecasting  from  the  past  ?     What  swells  the  strain 
Of  all  your  prophets  ?     Wild  lament  of  ills. 
Denunciations  of  impending  wo. 
Their  punishment  and  sequence,  mix'd  with  hopes 
That  take  the  natural  and  poetic  shape 
Of  rosy-hu'd  predictions  of  a  day 
That  still  may  rise  in  storm,  —  as  all  men  read 
The  shower  in  the  raincloud,  and  the  blast 
When  the  trees  bend  before  it.     He  whose  lips 
Were  touch' d  with  fire  by  seraphs,  when  in  dream 
The  doorposts  of  the  temple  shook  with  awe 
And  the  house  fill'd  with  smoke,'"  he,  in  the  heat 
Of  his  enkindled  song,  sings  grandly  out 
What  hath  no  literal  sense,  and  cannot  have, 
And  what,  in  any  sense,  applies  to  times 
The  enraptured  words  make  imminent,  not  remote." 
The  Virgin  birth  is  credited  and  the  people 
See  it  in  Jesus.     Is  that  Jesus'  fault  ? 
If  't  were,  ye  would  condemn  him.     That 't  is  not, 
Is  evident  from  his  disbelief,  which  scouts 
At  such  embodiment  of  a  poet's  dreams. 
And  yet  ye  would  condemn  him. 


80  THE   NEW    CALVARY 


Scribe.  'T  is  not  all. 
He  violates  the  Sabbath  and  makes  light 
Of  sacrifice.     Will  he  deny  it  ? 

Cai.  Answer. 
Though  ample  are  the  proofs,  yet  answer  thou. 
Jesus.     Hast  thou  not  heard  what  Samuel  said  ?     Behold, 
To  obey  is  more  than  sacrifice,  to  hear 
Than  is  the  fat  of  rams.^^    And  after  him, 
Fifteen  score  years  and  more,  yet  from  our  time 
Almost  eight-hundred,  Thus  Jehovah  saith : 
What  unto  Me  your  sacrifice  of  meats  ? 
Not  in  shed  blood  ofbnllocl's,  lambs,  and  goats 
I  taTce  delight.      Tour  incense  I  abhor. 
Your  New  Moons  and  your  Sahbaths,  your  fix' d  feasts, 
Four  solemn  meetings  cannot  I abide.^^ 
Cai.     It  is  enough.     Or,  shall  we,  children,  take, 
Wlio  are  unletter'd,  from  this  learned  Pnest, 
This  Father,  this  reshaper  of  the  laws 
Of  undeserving  Moses,  nay  this  Judge 
And  King  and  Prophet,  shall  we  take  from  him 
More  lessons  in  our  offices  ?     Perchance 
The  glory  of  the  Thummim  may  revive 
For  his  unjewel'd  breast,  and  in  its  light 
Great  oracles  be  given.     It  is  said 
X        He  hath  already  proven  the  Sabbath  void 
By  David  and  the  shewbrcad,  making  him, 
Ilis  high  progenitor,  pattern  in  the  need 
Of  his  own  ragged  followers.     Wilt  thou  deign, 
Thou  new-sprung  sucker  from  the  Ijuried  root 


ACT    IV.    SC.    1.  81 

Of  old-time  Jesse,  but  for  thee  forgot, 

To  wave  thy  boughs  in  signal  of  the  way 

We  have  lost  ?  for  we  are  Gentiles  at  the  best, 

Weaiy  with  travel,  ignorant  and  dull. 

And  strangers  to  this  sky.     Leads  yonder  road 

Men  call  the  Sabbath  to  the  Mount  of  God, 

Or  was  it  of  man's  making  ? 

JSlc.  Answer  not 
To  insult. 

Jesus.  Insult  has  for  me  no  sound 
More  than  the  murmur  of  the  irksome  fly 
I  cannot  brush  away. 

Cm.  Proceed.     Thy  guilt 
Is  all  too  large  to  get  increase  of  bulk 
By  insolent  frowardness. 

Jesus.  I  know  it  well 
Tliat  I  am  doom'd  unlieard  ;  nor  can  that  man, 
So  worthy  of  the  name,  whom  God  will  l)less 
That  he  upholds  the  innocent  and  would  lift 
Reason  and  right,  down-trodden,  from  the  feet 
Of  ignorance  and  injustice,  can  he  help 
Or  harm  me  in  this  hour.     With  thankful  heart 
Therefore  I  disregard  him,  and  reply  : 
The  Sabbath  is  approv'd  of  God,  but  came 
Of  man's  contrivance.     Matters  it  to  Him, 
To  whom  all  days  are  one.  Who  hath  no  day 
Defin'd  by  light  and  darkness,  whicli  of  seven 
We  set  aside  to  honor  him  ?  if  it  lie 
That  we  therein  do  honor  him,  who  approves, 

4* 


82  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Not  for  His  glory,  but  that  one  day's  rest, 
Hallow' d  by  prayer,  and  beautify' d  by  calm 
Unbroke  by  what  makes  hideous  m  the  eyes 

Of  all  good  men 

Cai.  Enough.     Here  shalt  thou  pause. 
Nor  rise  thou,  Nicodemus,  yet  again. 
Shall  we  sit  here  until  another  sun 
Goes  down  upon  this  blasphemy  ?     I  see 
In  all  of  ye,  save  two  I  need  not  name, 
AjDproval  of  my  purpose  and  my  course. 
Foe  to  our  rites,  perverter  of  our  faith, 
Inciter  of  rebellion  to  the  rule 
Of  those  whom  Heaven  for  our  continu'd  sins 
Hath  given  dominion  over  us,  whose  yoke 
This  man's  ambition  would  make  heavier  still. 
His  life  is  forfeited  ;  nor  can  we  doubt 
Rome  will  do  justice.     To  the  Judgment,  then. 
Let  him  be  taken. 
Scribe  and 


,     To  the  Judomeut,  ho  ! 
Others.      '  ° 

Jesus.     Thou  seest,  O  Nicodemus. 

Nic.  See,  that  right 

Cai.  Let  neither  speak.     Away  with  him  at  once. 

Nic.     Can  it  be  wonder'd  that  Jehovah's  wrath 

Cai.     Wonder  unto  the  walls,  if  so  thou  wilt : 

They  are  at  thy  semce.  —     Quickly,  men.  — •    Move  on. 


ACT   IV.    SC.   2.  83 


Scene  II. 
As  in  Act  I.    Scene  I. 
Pontius.      Camilla. 

Pon.     What  brings  thee  from  the  women's  room  so  soon  ? 
Tliou  art  alway  welcome  :  but  in  little  while 
I  must  to  the  Judgment.     "Why  art  thou  so  pale  ? 

Camil.     I  have  had  a  dream  ;  a  hideous  dream.     The  sky 
Was  hung  witli  black,  as  when  the  shadow' d  sun, 
With  his  mere  rim  on  one  side  uncclips'd, 
Tlirows  gloom  like  twilight  and  the  chill  of  awe 
On  shivering  thousands.     On  a  barren  hill, 
Strcw'd  horribly  with  skulls  and  dead-men's  bones, 
Stood  up  a  lofty  cross,  its  top  made  dim 
By  the  o'erhanging  blackness  ;  and  thereon, 
With  head  down-droojj'd  and  body  ninning  blood. 
The  Rabbi  Jesus,  dying  amid  the  jeers 
Of  a  besotted  multitude,  whose  hands 
Surrounding  soldiers  only  kept  from  acts 
Worse  than  their  insults.     But  before  the  guards. 
Facing  the  dying,  stood  a  man  like  them 
Roman  in  look  and  garb,  and  watch'd  the  scene 
As  if  'twere  of  his  bidding.     It  was  thou.  — 

Pon.     Never  !     That  could  not  be.     Am  I  a  Jew  ? 


84  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


What  is  the  Chiist  to  me  that  I  should  stand 
To  view  his  death-throes,  even  had  I  bid  ? 
Rests  it  with  me,  your  prophet  may  live  on 
Long  as  Tithonus,  and  nor  cross  nor  spear 
Give  him  a  roljlser's  ending.     Tliy  strange  dream. 
Sad  though  it  is,  is,  like  all  other  dreams, 
Made  up  of  things  impossible  to  sense 
Though  shadow'd  from  the  possible,  with  forms 
Shap'd  of  i)ast  thoughts,  the  accidents  of  mind. 
Let  it  not  haunt  thee  further. 

C'amil.  Yet  hear  all. 
At  the  last  moment,  the  transfix'd  on  thee 
Threw  a  reproachful  look,  where  was  no  scorn 
Nor  anger,  only  sorrow.     Thereupon, 
A  demon  seem'd  to  seize  thee.     With  a  yell 
Of  terrible  despair,  thou  bar'dst  thy  sword, 

And  rushing  on  its  point I  saw  no  more, 

But  woke  in  anguish,  gasping  and  afi-aid. 
Pon.     Afraid  of  what,  Camilla  ?     Am  I  a  man 
To  fall  upon  my  sword,  because  a  Jew 
Looks  sad  in  dying  ?     Not  were  all  his  Tribe 
Hvmg  on  a  thousand  Golgothas. 

Camil.  Tliou  goest 
To  sentence  Jesus  ? 

Pon.  'T  is  for  that  indeed 
I  am  caird,  but  am  not  purposed.     The  Iligh-priest 
Sent  over-night  to  tell  me  he  was  seiz'd 
And  would  have  hearing  in  the  early  mom, 
And  at  the  sixth  hour,  even  now  at  hand, 


ACT    IV.    SC.    2.  85 

Should  come  to  me  for  judgment. 

Camil.  Thus  tliou  sccst, 
His  fate  ah-eady  is  decreed.     But  thou, 
"Wilt  not  forget  thy  solemn  word  to  me ; 
Thou,  noble  Pontius,  generous  if  stem, 
Wilt  not  sit  stiU  while  bloody-minded  Jews 
Pollute  tliy  function  ? 

Pon.  Wliat  I  said  was  said. 
I  shall  keep  faitli  with  thee,  ])ut  not  the  less 
Must  also  with  tlie  Pontiff.     If  this  man 
Is  blameless  as  thou  holdst  him,  I  shall  do 
All  I  may  dare  to  save  liim.     But  if  proven 
A  rabble-leader,  dangerous  to  the  State, 
And,  with  vile  purpose  of  aml^itious  aim. 
Seeking  to  bring  in  scorn  his  country's  laws 
And  those  who  upholding  them  obstruct  Ms  way  ; 
Or  if  not  proven,  yet  the  popular  voice 
Calls  for  his  punishment ;  I  must  I  fear 
Surrender  him  for  Rome's  sake. 

Camil.  Tliou  wilt  not ! 
O  that  I  were  as  thou  ! 

Pon.  Wert  thou  as  I, 
Thou  wouldst  yield  readier,  as  more  lightly  sway'd 
And  having  those  fleshly  fears  which  shake  me  not. 
All  government  must,  in  some  form  and  degree, 
Yield  to  the  people.     He  who  stands  unmov'd, 
Fix'd  in  his  own  views  for  he  deems  them  right, 
And,  constant  unto  justice,  shuts  his  ears 
Against  expedience,  may  be  good  and  great. 


86  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


But  is  unfit  to  govern.     For  a  while 

His  mounds  keep  back  the  billows,  but  the  wave 

Carries  off  with  it  each  time  more  and  more 

Of  the  heap'd-up  earth,  and  when  the  bank  goes  down 

The  flood  sweeps-on  the  same.     Here  Daunus  comes 

To  array  me.     Be  content.     Look,  if  thou  wilt. 

From  thy  lattice  on  the  Pavement.     Thou  wilt  see 

I  shall  do  all  I  may.     But  let  the  place, 

Where,  since  without,  the  priests  stand  undismay'd 

Wlio  dread  defilement  in  a  Gentile's  liouse. 

Remind  thee  what  we  yield  to  popular  whim. 

Blindness  and  prejudice  ;  nor  expect  too  much. 


Scene  HI. 

A  street  near  tJie  Gabbatlia  or  Pavement. 

John  and  Simon  meeting. 

John.     Whence  com'st  thou  ?     Is  it  over  ?     Go'st  thou  now 
To  the  Pavement  ?     Thou  look'st  hurried,  anxious,  sad. 

8i.     It  is  most  truly  over ;  for  tliey  bear  him 

Not  to  release,  but  sentence.     Hear'st  tliou  there 
The  shouts  of  tlie  people  anxious  for  the  show  ? 


ACT  IV,.  sc.   3.  87 

They  bode  no  good.     I  had  the  wish  to  see 
And  hear  what  might  transpire,  and  hurry'd  thus. 
'T  is  better  otherwise  ;  w^e  might  ])c  known 
And  set  on  by  tlie  crowd. 

John.  Alas,  we  have  been 
Cowards  enougli  aheady. 

SI.  And  must  be. 
One  only  liath  been  true  to  him  :   a  woman. 
But  she  had  nought  to  dread.     Yet  we,  if  faint 
Were  not  false  hearted.     Stop  and  hear.     The  crowd 
Will  thus  have  time  to  arrange  itself,  before 
We  reacli  the  Judgment.     Hast  thou  haply  heard 
Of  Judas  ? 

John.  No. 

Si.  I  sought  the  High-jiriest's  house 
This  morn  betimes,  to  gather  news,  and  found 
IMary  of  Magdala  crouch'd  without  the  gate. 
She  had  watch'd  there  all  the  night.     Ere  yet  I  sjDake, 
Even  while  I  stoop' d  to  lift  her  head,  which  lay 
On  her  spread  palms,  that  rested  on  her  knees, 
The  portal  oj^ens,  and  behold,  where  comes, 
Haggard,  wild-looking,  Judas  ;  in  his  hand 
A  leathern  money-pouch  ;  which  when  I  saw, 
Enrag'd,  I  wanted  but  the  sword  I  held 
The  night  before  to  have  hew'd  him  into  shreds. 
John.     'T  was  better  as  it  was. 

Si.  As  thou  shalt  hear. 
When  her  he  saw,  his  paleness  grew  like  death, 
And  his  sunk  eyes  glar'd  in  their  caves.     At  first, 


88  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


When  Mary,  lifting  up  lier  head,  gave  out 
A  strange,  low  cry  of  horror,  and  again 
Sunk  it  upon  her  knees,  he  stepp'd  aside 
As  would  he  hun-y  from  us,  but  stopp'd  short, 
And,  laying  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  said. 
In  tremulous  tones  and  broken,  Mary  —  come. 
John.     How  could  he  hope  it  'I 

Si.  Haply,  for  the  means 
He  had  to  brilie  her.     But  he  knew  her  not. 
Upstarting  with  a  shiver,  back  she  drew, 
And  facing  him  a  moment,  with  a  look 
Which  held  him  as  the  serpent's  holds  the  bird,  — 
For,  though  his  jaw  drojjp'd  and  his  ghastly  cheek 
Turu'd  as  I  thought  still  ghastlier,  from  her  eyes 
He  could  not  take  away  Ms  own,  —  cried  "  Come  ? 
Come  !     And  with  thee  ?     I  'd  rather  serve  the  lust 
Of  all  Jerusalem's  ruffians,  turn  by  turn. 
Their  tumbling  hands  would  not  pollute  my  robe 
As  do  thy  fingers.     Go  thou,  thy  own  way. 
To  the  Devil's  angels."     Then  she  turn'd  her  back. 
And  gathering  round  her  face  her  long  hair  stood 
Under  the  door-beam,  with  her  head  sunk  down 
On  both  her  palms.     Thou  wilt  then.     Be  it  so. 
This  was  all  Judas  answer'd.     Tearing  open 
The  bag's  clos'd  mouth,  he  shook  it  up  i'  the  air, 
Scattering  the  coin  it  held  in  falling  showers. 
For  which  the  urchins  scrambled  that  were  nigh 
And  others  gather'd,  then  with  one  wild  glare 
Turn'd  upon  Mary,  not  regarding  me, 


ACT  IV.  sc.  3.  89 

Rush'd  from  the  spot,  to  the  Temple,  as  they  tell, 
And  managing  to  climb  tlie  southern  wall,'* 
Flung  himself  downward  headlong. 

John.  What  an  end  ! 
Si.     Better,  though  frightful,  than  the  unweighable  guilt 
Which  led  to  it 

John.  Heaven  forgive  him  I 

Si.  Well,  amen. 


90  THE   NEW   CALVARY 


Scene  IV. 

The  Gabiatha  or  Pavement, 

Pontius    on    the    Judgment-seat. 
Jesus  tefore  Mm. 
Caiaphas,  iGitli  a  number  of  the  Sanhedrim, 
among  whom  are  Nicodemus  and  Joseph  of  Ramathatm 
and  the  Scribe, 
tehind  and  to  the  right  of  Jesus,  — 
Caiaphas  -nearly  abreast  of  him,  and  Nicodemus  a 
little  removed,  in  the  rear  of  Caiaphas. 
Roman  Guards,  icitJi  their  Subcenturio  or  Lieutenant, 
on  the  left.      Other  guards  at  the  bottom  of  the 
Pavement;   inhere  is  a  promiscuous  croiod  of  Jews,  fore- 
most of  whom  are  Mary,  Jesus''  motlier,  Martha, 
and  Mary  Magdalena. 

Cai.     By  our  most  ancient  and  God-given  laws. 
Never  yet  abrogated,  though  in  part  at  times 
Fairn  into  some  disuse,  the  accus'd  is  found. 
For  blasphemous  words  and  acts  that  scout  our  faith. 
Worthy  of  death,  which  in  an  earlier  day. 
When  Judah's  lion  was  yet  uncag'd  nor  hid 
The  terror  of  his  claws,  we  might  ourselves 
Have  giv'n  by  the  people's  hands.     But  not  for  this, 


ACT    IV.    SC.   4.  91 

Our  Jcmsh  causes,  albeit  of  grave  offence, 

Ask  wo  the  Roman  sentence,  but  for  that 

Wliieh  touches  Rome  herself,  flagitious  aims 

Of  personal  ambition  ;  thereunto, 

The  inciting  of  the  rabble  to  revolt, 

And  subtle  teachings  of  sophistic  lore 

That  rouse  bad  passions  and  biing  into  distrust 

And  hatred  lawful  rule  and  those  who  stand, 

Its  ministers,  athwart  that  tortuous  way 

That  leads,  by  steps  of  tumult  and  grave  crime, 

To  a  one-day's  baseless  throne.  —  I  have  said. 

Poll.  Sj^eak  thou. 
I  am  bound  and  shall  be  well-content  to  hear 
All  thou  canst  urge  against  tliis  charge.     Is  't  true 
Thou  hast  the  insane  amljition  to  aspire 
To  build  again  that  throne  whose  scattered  parts 
Never  shall  join  again  ? 

Jesus.  The  throne  I  build, 
Or  seek  to  build,  is  founded  not  by  hand. 
But  rose  by  Heaven's  fiat,  what  time  the  Sons 
Of  God  Hosanna  shouted  when  tlie  man. 
New-fashion' d  of  the  elements,  stood  up 
Lord  of  himself  arid  nature,  and  its  parts 
Have  never  been  disjointed  and  can  not 
Be  scatter' d,  though  at  times  half-hid  and  dimm'd 
By  dust  and  rust  of  ages,  as  at  times. 
In  other  ages,  unobscur'd  and  l:)right 
With  cumulative  brilliance  ;  for  its  base 
Is  solid  as  the  world,  and  with  tlie  world 


92  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Alone  shall  crumble. 

Pon.  Leave  thy  Eastern  pomp 
Of  symbols  ;  I  am  Eoman.     What  should  be 
That  seat  unshakable  ? 

Jesus.  The  throne  of  mind. 
Pon.     'T  is  proudly  said,  and,  is  it  said  with  truth, 
Implies  no  rebel  purjiose.     If  thy  dream 
Were  ever  realized,  and  thou  shouldst  wield 
The  kings-staff  of  the  intellect  o'er  minds 
Made  vassals  to  thy  own,  would  not  thy  heart 
Have  human  longings  for  an  earthly  rule, 
Or  wouldst  thou  not  be  carried  on  the  tide 
Of  popular  favor  to  that  shelvy  shore 
Where  many  like  thee  are  dash'd  to  pieces,  few 
Are  wash'd  unwounded,  yet  the  Alpine  surf 
Thunders  to  them  in  vain  ?     I  speak  thy  style  : 
Answer  in  mine. 

Jesus.  They  who  would  mount  to  power 
On  the  mob's  servile  shoulders,  by  fair  words 
Coax  them  to  stoop.     Who  ever  knew  my  tongue 
Tam'd  to  cajolement  ?  who  has  not,  of  all 
Who  have  heard  me,  here,  in  Galilee,  where'er 
I  have  taught  in  public,  or  have  spoke  at  home, 
Known  me  to  be  no  flatterer,  speaking  truths 
That  humbled,  or  offended,  and  whose  aim 
Was  jjrofit  to  the  hearer,  not  to  me  ? 
What  else  implies  the  High-priest  ?     If  I  am 
A  rabble-leader,  why  am  I  found  here, 
And  the  streets  quiet  ? 


ACT    IV.    SC.   4.  93 

Cai.  I  have  said  indeed, 
His  acts  are  blasi^liemous  and  revolt  the  sense 
Even  of  the  people  ;  't  is  his  insolent  mood 
Flush'd  by  success  :  but  not  the  less  his  arts 
Are  constantly  seditious ;  and  for  tins, 
Lo  his  arrest  in  private  and  by  night. 
Wlio  knows  the  fickle  populace  ?     To-day, 
The  wind  blows  liard  against  the  man ;  to-morrow, 
Loose  him,  't  may  set  again  in  his  favor,  stretch 
His  sail  to  the  utmost,  and  his  galley  send 
Safely  to  haven.     It  drives,  as  thou  hast  said, 
Most  noble  Pontius,  tow'rd  a  dangerous  shore : 
But  shall  we  leave  to  shallows  and  sunk  rocks 
The  chance  of  its  destruction  ? 

Pon.  Ilast  thou  proofs  ? 
Cai.     The  witnesses  are  al)sent,  all  save  one, 
A  man  of  standing,  letter' d  in  the  law, 
Here  in  our  laody,  and  who  avers  as  they. 
But  is  't  thy  pleasure,  from  tlie  outer  crowd 
Men  may  be  summoned,  even  by  the  score, 
Foi"  a  like  attest,  that  m  this  Nazarene 
Is  risen  a  new  form  of  the  would-be  kings, 
Subtler,  more  dangei'ous,  laying  not  open  siege, 
With  enginery  of  violent  revolt. 
To  tower  and  citadel  of  faith  and  state. 
But  digging  darkling  hourly  underneath 
Tlieir  deep  foundations. 

Nic.  Suffer  me  in  turn 
To  plead,  O  Pontius.     The  one  witness  here, 


94  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


What  was  his  evidence  ?     Tliis  naked  fact, 
That  in  the  tumult  yesterday  one  cry'd, 
Scoffingly,  This  our  King  !    No  man  disputes. 
The  accus'd  will  not  deny,  the  ignorant  mass. 
Looking  for  that  Messias  which  should  come, 
"Would  make  of  him  their  leader.     It  may  be 
His  very  followers  hope  so  much.     Wliat  then  ? 
All  men,  his  followers,  I  myself,  have  heard, 
Nay,  has  he  not  maintain' d  it  even  now  ? 
He  aspires  to  wield  the  sceptre  of  the  mind 
Over  men's  morals.     Worker  in  a  field 
Too  long  left  fallow,  his  strong  hands  would  pluck 
The  tares  that  choke  the  wheat,  and  make  to  grow 
The  harvest  many  fold.     That  idlers  take 
The  husbandman  for  master,  turn  his  spade 
Into  a  sceptre,  and  his  humbled  knees 
TVIake  bow'd  upon  a  king's  seat,  is  the  fault 
Of  their  false  vision.     Caiaphas  declares 
His  tongue  insidious  and  his  lessons  craft. 
Circuitous  indeed  the  craft  which  makes 
Opprobrious  speech  serve  flattery  and  accepts 
Insults  and  stones  for  homage.  —    I  have  said. 

Pon.     And  after  my  o'wn  thinking.     Were  it  meet, 
I  could  myself  bring  witness  of  the  truths 
That  base  thy  argument.     But  speak  again, 
Thou  Nazarene.     Wouldst  tliou  indeed  be  king  ? 

Jesus.     Not  would  Rome's  emperor  guard  my  peaceful  throne, 
And  wreathe  my  staff  with  myrtle.     But  through  blood 
To  wade  to  its  possession,  and  by  wars 


ACT  IV.   sc.  4  95 

Maintain  its  mastery  !  not  were  I  indeed, 
"What  I  have  never  claim'd  to  be  and  know 
I  am  not,  of  David's  seed.     Kings  are  not  cast, 
Not  in  these  troublous  times,  in  such  a  mold 
As  shap'd  my  clay ;  and  they  whose  tongues  ascrilje 
Worldly  ambition  to  this  mournful  heart, 
See  not  its  fountains,  or  pollute  their  flow. 
Po/i.     I  h've  heard  much  in  thy  praise  from  oue  I  love. 
I  credit  it.     Kings  of  thy  stuff  may  reign  ; 
But  they  wlio  achieve  a  throne,  or  found  its  steps. 
Are  woven  of  stouter  thread.     Thy  wel^  would  break 
As  easily  as  the  spider's.     But  thy  acts. 
Thy  lore,  give  umbrage,  and,  if  true  or  not, 
Rightly,  I  think,  for  thou  wast  born  a  Jew, 
And  owcst  observance  to  thy  country's  rites, 
Its  faitli,  its  priesthood.     If  I  let  thee  go. 
Wilt  thou  forswear  thy  preaching,  and  thy  lore 
Keep  for  the  closet,  where  thy  gods  alone     ■ 
Shall  dictate  to  thy  conscience  ? 

Jesus.  Is  the  price 
Of  freedom  the  soul's  servitude,  to  chain 
The  thoughts  in  profitless  cells,  and  that  good  work 
The  Father  bids  me  do,  and  gave  me  power 
Fitly  to  do,  abandon  ?     What  were  life 
Without  the  aims  of  life  ?     'T  is  not  to  eat, 
To  diink,  to  sleep,  to  bask  him  in  the  sun, 
]Make  man's  sole  being.     lie  shares  that  with  the  beast. 
The  soul  has  its  own  nourishment  and  warms 
Its  blood  in  sunshine  from  a  heaven  within. 


96  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Take  from  me  that  existence,  thou  mayst  give 
My  body  to  my  foes.     I  will  not  chain 
My  f  reeborn  thoughts,  I  cannot  live  a  drone. 
Cai.     Thou  seest,  most  noble  Pontius,  kindly  grace 
Is  wasted  on  him.     Loos'd,  the  man  will  be 
The  same  fomenter  of  disturbance  still. 
Nay,  he  finds  glory  in  it,  and,  thanking  not, 
Throws  in  thy  teeth  thy  bounty,  nor  will  take 
Even  life  itself,  save  as  he  likes  the  terms. 
That  cannot  be.     The  interest  of  state, 
The  policy  of  Caesar,  —  dare  I  say  it. 
Thy  own  high  function,  — •  all  recjuire  that  crimes 
Such  as  the  Council  prove  on  the  accus'd 
Should  not  go  unchastis'd. 

Pon.  Nor  shall  they  so. 
Haply,  since  contumacious,  tliough  not  wrong 
In  Ms  own  eyes,  he  needs  correction.     Thus, 
He  shall  be  scourg'd,  ere  loos'd. 

Nic.  No,  Pontius,  no. 
Do  not  to  him  what  never  could  be  done 
To  any  freeborn  Roman.     If  a  Jew, 
He  is  not  less  a  freeman,  and  the  best, 
Since  freest,  of  his  kind. 

Pon.  Not  of  my  choice, 
But  need,  I  offer  it,  hoping  so  to  spare 
The  greater  punishment. 

Scribe.  Which  he  deserves. 
Scourge  him  not,  noble  Pontius :  to  the  cross, 
In  justice,  give  liim. 


ACT    IV.     SC.   4.  97 

Peoji.  Crucify  liim. 

Pon.  Peace !  — 
Ilcar'st  tliou  tliat  clamor  ?     "T  is  not  I  would  treat 
Thy  Rabbin  as  a  slave.  —     Wilt  thou  rei^ent, 
Thou  Jesus,  of  thy  teaching,  and  these  fools, 
That  will  not  have  thee,  leave  to  their  oato  ways  ? 
Choose  thy  own  doom. 

Jesus.  Tiic  cross  affrights  me  not, 
Nor  yet  the  lash.     No  i)unishnu'ut  enslaves 
The  freeborn  spirit,  which  stripes  can  not  degrade, 
Nor  pul)lic  death  witli  torture  make  forget 
Its  true  condition.     Give  me,  if  thou  wilt. 
To  death :   't  is  in  thy  power,  if  thy  owni  soul 
Will  let  thee :  but  not  thou,  nor  Cicsar's  self. 
Nor  the  whole  world  combined,  can  change  one  thought. 
Or  make  me  other  than  I  am. 

Cai  Behold! 
Clamors  the  people  justly  ? 

Peojy.  To  thd  Cross  ! 
Scribe.     lie  is  a  foe  to  CiPsar. 

Peop.  To  the  cross  ! 
Mary.     No,  no  !  he  is  mad  :  he  knows  not  what  he  says. 
Pon.     Silence,  ye  curs  !     Thou  woman,  what  art  thou  ? 
Mary.     I  am  his  mother.     Have  mercy  !     He  is  mad. 
Cai.     Be  silent,  woman  ;  and  thou,  so])l)ing  one. 

Who  art  with  her.     Let  them,  Pontius,  be  remov'd. 
Pon.     Spare  thy  advice  :  I  am  judge  and  ruler  here. 
The  woman  may  give  witness.  —     Is  this  sooth 
Tliy  mother  speaks  of  thee  ?     I  am  prone  to  think 
VoT,.  VT.— 5 


98  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Tliou  art  in  thy  lofty  fancies  parcel-mad, 
Like  all  the  prophets,  and  at  times  seest  not 
The  worldly  way  before  thee.     Stray' st  thou  thus, 
We  cannot  make  thee  answer  for  thy  acts,  * 

And  shall  dismiss  thee. 

Jesus.  Rather  let  me  bear 
My  foes'  worst  malice,  than,  offending  truth, 
Hear  in  tlie  mind  the  upbraiding  voice  of  God. 
I  would,  O  Pontius,  thou  and  all  the  rest 
Saw  with  as  clear  a  vision  as  I  see 
And  had  as  sound  a  judgment. 

Cai.  Said  I  well? 
The  leopard  cannot  change  his  spots  ;  the  beast 
Gotten  on  blasphemy  by  the  vulgar  rut 
Of  lunatic  ambition  will  rrprear 
Its  heads  defiant  and  be  rampant  still. 
Pan.     He  hath  the  stubborn  courage  of  his  stock. 
"Why  should  you  Jews  upbraid  it  ? 

Cai.  For  it  threats 
Hourly  our  peace.     I  must  be  pardon'd  here, 
O  noble  Pontius,  that  I  dare  avow 
Wonder  at  thy  forbearance.     Shall  one  man 
Be  of  more  count  than  thousands  ?     If  the  corpse 
Of  one  bad  subject  may  stop  up  the  vent 
Whence  flows,  or  may  flow,  streams  of  innocent  blood, 
Shall  we  not  use  it  ?  more  too  when,  besides, 
All  interests  combin'd  that  thrive  by  peace 
Are  peril'd  by  false  mercy  ? 

Poll.  What  wouldst  thou  ? 


ACT    IV.    SC.    4.  99 

He  is  a  brave  man,  and,  I  tbiuk,  a  good. 
Hark  to  the  women  wailing.     Will  not  less 
Thau  death  content  thee  ? 

Cai.  Let  the  people  say. 

Peop.     Death  to  the  would-be  king  ! 

Scribe.  To  Caesar's  foe. 

Peop.     Give  liim  to  crucifixion. 

Pon.  Silence,  Jews. 

iV7c.     One  word,  0  Pontius. 

Pon.  Thee  I  gladly  hear. 

iVJV.     The  Scribe  in  malice  calls  him  C;T?sar's  foe. 
Thou  wilt  take  me  as  witness,  —  shall  I  swear  ? 
Joseph  of  Ramathaim  too  will  swear, 
And  others,  is  there  need,  —  that  Jesus  here. 
This  innocent,  most  wrong'd  man,  at  all  times  l)ids 
Obedience  to  authority,  and  makes 
A  special  point  that  tribute  should  be  paid 
To  Ca;sar.     Shall  I  prove  it  ? 

Pon.  Not  to  me : 
I  credit  it.     But  tliou  seest  yon  bigot  crowd, 
Already  toss'd  by  passion.     They  are  Jews. 
In  Rome,  the  prisoner  would  not  stand  arraign'd 
One  hour.     What  can  I  do  ?     Your  senate  calls 
For  sentence  ;  and  the  people,  for  some  cause, 
Are  wroth  against  their  idol.     Of  my  will, 
It  were  a  stretch  of  power  to  set  him  free. 
He,  too,  obdurate.  —    Men  of  Juduli,  hear. 
On  tliis  your  annual  festival  ye  are  wont 
To  have  freed  to  you  a  prisoner.     Let  it  be 


100  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


This  blameless  Nazarene. 

Peop.  No,  no  ;  not  him  ! 
Scribe.     Before  us,  he  is  guilty. 

Pon.   Stolid  hearts, 
Ye  know  not  what  is  guilt.     Hear  yet  again. 
There  lietli  in  prison,  fetter'cl,  clue  to  death, 
A  man  whose  guilt  admits  no  doubt,  —  Barabbas,  - 
Taken  in  open  revolt,  with  armed  hands, 
Red  with  a  soldier's  murder.     Which  of  these, 
This  peace-persuading  teacher,  or  the  rebel, 
Blood-stain'd  and  ruffian,  will  ye  I  release  ? 
Bcribe.  Barabbas. 

Peoih  Ay,  Baraljbas. 

Pon.  And  this  man. 
What  shall  be  done  witli  him  ? 

Scribe.  What  we  have  said : 
Give  him  to  crucifixion. 

Peo}}.   To  tlie  cross  ! 
Pon.     Think  better  of  it.     He  hath  done  no  act 
Deserving  death. 

Scribe.  He  hath  l)y  our  own  law 
Wrought  several  sucli. 

Cai.  And,  lal^oiing  to  subvert. 
Whether  of  will  or  led  on  by  events. 
The  existing  state,  deserves  it  at  Rome's  hands. 
Pon.     Hear'st  thou,  unhappy  ?     Hast  thou  aught  to  say 
Before  tliou  goest  to  punishment  ? 

Jesus.  But  this. 
In  the  dread  names  of  Lilierty  and  Right, 


ACT    IV.    SO.    4.  101 

Which  die  not,  though  oft  wounded,  and  whose  tongues 

Even  tyrants  have  at  times  to  hear  in  lieart 

When  the  ear  shuts  to  them,  I  do  protest 

Against  this  sentence,  which  does  wrong  to  truth, 

To  reason,  and  to  justice.     Take  thou  hccd, 

Thou  who  canst  plead  no  passion,  nor  art  blind 

By  bigotry  or  prejudice.     My  life, 

God  will  require  it  at  thy  hand. 

Pan.  Thy  god 
Will  not.     Is  't  I  condemn  thee  ?     Lo,  your  rites 
Lend  me  a  symbol,  and  I  wash  my  liands 
Of  all  spot  of  tliy  blood. 

Scribe.  Be  it  on  our  robes. 

Pe^p.     And  on  our  cliildren's  heads. 

Cai.  Amen,  for  aye. 

Nic.     Yea,  it  will  be  for  aye,  while  man  has  thought 
Or  Heaven  the  sense  of  judgment.     Madmen  all ! 
But  [to  Jos.'\  that  the  unclouded  Roman  should  so  see 
Himself  expurgated  ! 

Pon.  What  sayst  thou  there  ? 
Tliou  art  a  bold  man,  and  I  like  thee  better 
Than  all  thy  race  ;   for  tliou  skulk'st  not  behind 
Old  ambush'd  superstitions,  when  tlie  dai-ts 
Of  pitiless  folly  liurtle  against  trutli : 
But  tliou  kenn'st  not  expedience  and  wliat  must 
Tlie  man  wlio  sits  where  I  sit.     Still,  for  thee 
I  will  do  something  and  for  him  thou  hast  shielded. 
Hark,  Marius.  [turning  to  the  8ubcenturion.'\  Go  thou  with 
the  guard.     Protect, 


102  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


So  far  as  may  be,  from  the  foul-mouth' d  mob 
The  prisoner,  and  see  no  useless  pangs 
Lengthen  his  agony. 

While  this  is  saying,  the  women  have  made  their  way  to 

Jesus,  who  hisses  tenderly  his  mother,  speaTcs  a  word 

to  Martha,  and  laying  his  hand  on  Mary  Magda- 

lena^s  head,  who  hneeling  emhraces  his  Tcnees,  af- 

pears  to  console  her.      The  Jews  stand  apart, 

looTcing   on  not  disrespectfully ;    nor   does 

Caiaphas  letray  displeasure. 

And  now  the  Guards  approach,  and 
the  Subcenturion,  putting  aside  gently  the  women, 
is  about  to  give  Jesus  to  he  bound,  when  Pon- 
tius cries  from  his  seat : 

Let  the  man  walk  free. 
Jesus.  \to  Nic.  and  Jos.  who  approach  and  take  his  hands.  ^ 
Farewell.     Were  the  world  like  you  twain ;  were  ten 
Alone  in  all  Jerusalem  like  thee, 

0  generous  Nicodemus,  I  might  sigh 
To  smk  to  darkness  while  my  sun  of  life 
Is  yet  at  mid-day :  but  now  Truth  is  dead, 
And  Reason's  heart,  made  bestial,  gives  no  throb 
That  answers  me,  refusing  to  be  stirr'd, 

1  close  my  books  of  stewardship  and  go, 
If  not  with  gladness,  yet  without  regret, 
To  give  in  the  account.     Farewell. 

Nic.  For  thee, 
Thou  art  happier  not  to  live  tlian  see  the  ills 
That  wait  this  generation,  by  their  God 


ACT   IV.   SC.   4.  103 

Abandon'd.     Even  I  am  prophet  here, 

And  weep  the  desolate  city  tliat  shall  be, 

The  blood-stain' d  and  the  bad.     And  now,  farewell. 

I  need  not  bid  thee  die  as  lits  a  man. 

Thou  ai-t  sure  to  do  so.     Joseph  and  myself 

Vow  to  thee  seemly  burial. 

Jos.  Thou  shalt  sleep, 
Lov'd  Ra1)b:n,  in  my  own  new  tomb.     Farewell. 
Cai.     Pass  on.     Ye  dally  there  too  long. 

Jos.  For  shame  !  {low. 

Nic.  [aloud. 

He  is  right.     The  folded,  tether'd,  dog-watch'd  herd 
Must  not  have  time  to  scent  what  stuff  they  browse. 


104  THE   NEW    CALVARY 


Act    the    Fifth 

Scene  I.     A  highway  leading  to  Golgotha  or  Calvary. 

NicoDEMUS  a7id  Joseph 

walking  slowly  and  sorrowfully  upicard. 

Enter, 

from   the   opposite   direction   and  pass   on. 

Mart,  weeping,  and  sujiported  hy  John  and  Martha. 

Close  behind  her,  Mary  Magdalena,  her  face 

iuried  in  her  hands, 

overr  which  her  long  hair  falls  dishevelled. 

Further  had", 

Simon,  who  is  intercepted  hy  Nicodemus  and  Josepih. 

Nic.     How  fares  it  with  liim,  Simon  ? 

8i.  As  witli  one  — 
(  Mind  not  my  tears.     I  have  not  wept  till  now  — 
Not  till  thou  spak'st )  —  as  —  as  with  one  whose  thoughts 
Are  no  more  of  this  world.     His  eyes  are  clos'd,. 
And  his  head  droops  more  low,  and  lower.     They, 
The  women,  were  not  suffered  to  remain  ; 
And  the  last  words  the  master  spake  bade  John 
Take  his  jjlace  with  his  mother.     Go  ye  now 
To  see  him  ? 


ACT    V.    SC.    1.  ,  105 

2fic.  'T  is  our  duty  we  have  thought. 
Why  hast  thou  left  him  ? 

Si.  'T  was  too  much  to  bear, 
Those  mangk'd  hands  and  feet,  bedropp'd  with  gore 
From  their  jagg'd  punctures,  and  that  pallid  face, 
Whereon  the  sweat  of  weakness  and  death-pain 
Stands  in  large  drops  that  seem  too  thick  to  fall. 
His  mother  happily  saw  him  not,  until 
The  cross  rose  with  its  horrid  load  above 
The  heads  of  the  shouting  rabble  :   for  no  groan 
Came  from  his  lips  to  fright  her,  when  the  spikes 
Were  di-ivcn  through  his  strctch'd  palms,  and  his  feet, 
Press'd  down  to  take  them.     There  was  but  one  sound 
When  ceas'd  the  hammer,  and  the  tree  was  rais'd, 
When,  looking  languidly  around,  then  up 
Unto  the  sky,  the  Rablji  pray'd  of  God 

Forgiveness  for  Ms  murderers. 

Nic.  And  this 

The  man  the  Roman,  on  a  mean  pretence 

Of  state-expedience,  yielded  to  a  death 

Reserved  for  slaves  and  ruffians  !     Well  it  were. 

Had  he  been  there  to  hear  him.     Let  us  go. 

Seems  he  to  suffer  yet  ?  or  did  he  take 

The  potion  ? 

Si.  No,  he  wavkl  it  back,  Avhen  offered 

Before  he  was  affix'd,  and  once  again. 

With  motion  of  the  head  and  mournful  smile, 

After  the  cross  was  lifted. 

Nic.  As  I  thought, 
5* 


106  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Valiant  as  good.     I  yet  may  spare  liim  pain. 
Let  us  make  haste. 

Si.  "With  the  good  Elders'  leave, 
I  will  attend  them,  and  behold  the  end. 


Scene  II. 

Golgotha.     Jesus  on  the  cross. 

Around,  a  Roman  Guard  ;  behind  lohom,  the  Subcenturion. 

The  People  in   the  foreground. 

Among  them,  lowest  down,  and  a  little  apart,  two  of 

the  Witnesses  that  had  appeared  before 

the  Sanliedrim. 

These  converse  in  low  tones. 

1st  Wit.     He  has  a  stanch  heart,  and  had  led  us  well 
Were  he  so  minded.     I  am  almost  griev'd 
I  lent  a  hand  to  bring  him  to  a  fate 
He  bears  so  bravely. 

2d  Wit.  But  whose  fault  was  tliat  ? 

1st  Wit.     Wliy,  the  High-priest  and  Scribe's. 


ACT    V.    SC.    2.  107 

2d  Wit.  I  meant  not  that. 
They  would  have  done  their  work  in  any  wise, 
By  others,  if  not  us.     We  arc  scarce  to  blame. 
'T  was  his  own  rashness  brought  the  Rabbi  here. 
"Wliy  must  he  talk  of  things  which,  even  if  wrong. 
He  could  not  better  ? 

1st  Wit.  Ay,  there  was  a  time 
"We  might  have  plac'd  him  on  a  different  throne, 
Though  lower  than  this  bloody  one,  and  spar'd 
The  Romans'  doing  guard.     A  man  that  makes 
So  little  of  his  life,  and  with  his  voice 
And  eyes  and  mien,  had  made  a  goodly  king 
If  not  of  David's  line.     He  might  have  driven 
This  swarm  of  locusts  into  the  Salt  Sea, 
And  made  our  nation  glorious. 

2d  Wit.  I  think  not. 
Seest  thou,  he  dies  not  as  your  heroes  die. 
Samson  bless' d  not  his  enemies.     This  man 
Had  warn'd  tliem  from  the  roof  before  it  crash'd, 
More  pleas' d  alone  to  suffer.     Lo,  where  comes 
The  Elder  who  spake  out  for  him,  nor  less 
He  who  is  more  suspected  still  of  faith 
In  the  new  doctrine,  Josej)h.     Is  not  he, 
Who  walks  beliind  them,  one  of  the  mad  Twelve  ? 
The  High-priest  wiU  be  glad  to  hear  of  this. 
1st  Wit.     Have  thou  no  more  to  do  with  it.     What  good 
Would  come  thereof  ?     Ls  Nicodemus  one 
To  stand  in  fear  of  Caiaphas  ?     Enough 
What  is  before  thee. 


108  THE    NEW    CALVARY 


Enter 

NicoDEMUs  and  Joseph, 

followed  hy  Sevion. 

They  place  themselves  behind  the  Subcenturion, 

Nicodemus  nearest  him. 

Nic.  \loiD,  to  Jos.  ]  He  is  not  yet  gone. 
His  head  hangs  down  ;  his  face  is  not  convuls'd.  - 
Think'st  thou  he  suffers  ?  \to  Subc. 

Subc.  Surely.     He  is  brave, 
And  will  not  show  it.     But  behold,  his  head 
Again  is  lifted.     He  will  sjjeak. 

Jos.  That  look 
In  the  sad,  upturn' d  eyes  !     O  God ! 

Subc.  Be  hush'd : 
His  lips  are  open'd  now. 

Jesus.  My  God  !  my  God  ! 
How  long  wilt  Thou  forsake  me  ?  ** 

Nic.  'T  is  too  much. 
Simon  is  sobbing.     And  I  wonder  not. 
A  word  with  thee,  [to  Siibc. 

Subc.  I  listen.     But  again, 
He  is  about  to  sj^eak. 

Jesus.  Yet  not  my  will, 
O  Father ;  thine  be  done.. 

Subc.  The  head  once  more 
Drops  on  the  shoulder.     Can  you  Jews  hear  that, 
And  think  this  man's  fate  justify' d  ? 

Nic.  Thou  then 


ACT  V.   sc.  2.  109 

Seest  it  not  willingly  ? 

Suhc.  A  brave  man's  death, 
lilet,  not  in  fight,  but  thus  !     What  decm'st  thou  me  ? 
I  would  I  could  withdraw. 

JV7f.  There  is  no  time 
Fix'd  for  his  pangs'  duration  ? 

Stibc.  No,  indeed. 
The  Procurator's  self  bade  needless  pain 
Be  spar'd  him. 

Ific.  Hasten  then  his  death. 
And  bind  me  to  thee  ever. 

Subc.  For  thy  sake, 
Who  ai-t  a  brave  man  too,  and  didst  thy  best 
To  rescue  him,  I  will.     What  wilt  thou  have  ? 
Nic.     Here,  in  thy  ear.  [  Whisjiers. 

And  give  the  man  this  daric, 
That  his  thrust  fail  not. 

The  Subcenturion,  leaning  over,  gives  direction  and  the 
gold  to  one  of  the  foremost  soldiers,  %nho  icith  his 
spear  pierces  Jesus''  left  side. 
Jesus.  Father,  to  thy  hands 
I  yield  my  spirit. 

Nic.  Receive  it,  God  ! 

Jos.  Amen ! 


NOTES  TO  THE  NEW  CALVARY 


1. — p.  8.  Few  are  less  favor'd.]  Several  of  the  ancient 
Fathers,  and  not  the  least  eminent  among  them,  maintained  that 
Christ  was  very  far  from  being  conspicuous  for  personal  come- 
liness: thus,  Tertullian,  Cyprian,  Clement  of  Alexandria;  basing 
their  belief  upon  the  text  of  Isaiah  (Ixiii.  2).  Augustin  assigned 
this  humbleness  of  exterior  as  a  reason  why  the  Jews  ventured 
to  maltreat  him.  Jerom,  on  the  contrary,  uses  an  analogous 
argument  ( the  influence,  namely,  of  the  Saviour  over  the  Apos- 
tles )  in  assertion  of  his  beauty ;  and  the  less  ancient  of  the  Church- 
fathers  have  accumulated  every  aasthetic  particular  which  they 
thought  could  add  to  the  dignity  of  the  Son  of  Man.  See  an  in- 
teresting note  to  Origen's  Sixth  Book  against  Celsus:  Op.  ed. 
Delarue  (  Paris,  in  fol.  1733  )  t.  I.  p.  689.—  Justin  Mavtyr:  { Dial, 
con.  Tryph.  Jud.)  speaks  of  Christ  as  plain  in  person,  or  even  de- 
formed, aciSnij  as  the  Scriptures  announced  that  he  should  be, — 
wi  al  Fpa^ii  etripvaaov :  §  88.  Op.  iu  Patrol.  Grace,  ed.  JVIigne 
(Paris.  8°  1857)  t.  vi.  col." 687. 

2. — P.  9.  — the  Essean  John  Jdmself — ]  Josephus,  in  the 
story  of  his  own  life  (§2),  speaks  of  one  Raniis  (Banous,)  who 
lived  in  the  desert  ( that  is,  in  imcultivated  places ),  and  clothed 


112  NOTES    TO 


himself  from  the  trees,  and  fed  on  wild  herbs  and  fruits,  washing 

JiimseJf  frequently  with  cold  water  by  way  of  purification  ( ^vx9"?  &s 

iSart    Trji/    hj'^pav   Kai    T-qv    vvKTa    TToXXaicif  \ovojxcvnv   npo;  ayvtiai'.*  )        The 

*  I  have  hesitated  a  good  deal  as  to  the  rendering  of  this  phrase,  considering 
the  place  where  it  occurs.  Hudson  translates  it  "  in  vitas  sanctimoniam,"— /or 
godliness  of  life ;  Gelenius,  "ad  castitatem  tuendam;  "  and  Tan.  Faber  (as  cited 
by  Hudson),  "ad  puritatem  castitatemque  corporis  tuendam."  The  usual  sense 
of  ayt'eia  is  certainly  purity  as  between  the  sexes,  chastity ;  but  to  assign  that 
as  the  object  of  Banus'  ablutions,  when  his  mode  of  living  effected  it  better, 
seems  unreasonable.  The  preposition  admits  of  being  rendered  in  accordance 
loiih  ( as  required  by ;  )  which  would  amount  to  the  same  thing  if  ayveia  be 
translated  chastity,  but  not  if  it  be  made  to  signify  purity  in  a  general  sense. 
The  difference  is  not  unimportant,  because  of  its  bearing  to  the  question  whether 
Banus  was  not  an  Essean.  Hudson's  paraphrastic  phrase,  if  accepted,  would  go 
far  to  sanction  my  belief  that  he  was,  although  translate  with  Gelenius,  in 
order  to  maintain  his  chastity,  and  there  is  a  sufficient  conjectural  confir- 
mation, since  chastity  was  a  special  point  of  observance  with  the  Esseans, 
who,  like  the  Shalers  with  us,  whom  they  seem  to  have  prototiTJed,  did  not 
marry  —  not  at  least  the  main  order.  See  ilnrh  vii.  3  &  4.  The  frequent 
nse  of  ablution  is  there  shoviTi  to  have  been  common  with  those  who  affected 
sanctimony ;  and  the  Esseans  only  carried  the  practice  further,  and  made  the 
lustration  a  primary  rite  of  initiation  into  their  order,  like  the  baptism  of  John. 
I  may  add  that  ayreta  has  sometimes  an  active  signification,  and  may  be  ren- 
dered, as  I  have  ventured  to  do  it,  purification. 

Finally,  see  Matthew  iii.  6,  7,  and  11  &  13.  From  all  of  which  we  do  not  learn 
where  John  obtained  the  idea  of  purification  by  baptism  (immersion  in  water), 
and  it  is  evident  that  it  was  already  a  custom  among  certain  of  the  Jews,  whom 
I  take  to  have  been  Esseans,  and  that  others  came  to  be  initiated  (  vv.  5,  6,  )  in- 
cluding some  of  the  two  other  sects  (  ».  7  ). 

The  connection  of  ablution  with  the  observances  of  religion,  and  hence,  or 
perhaps  primarily,  of  bodilj'  purity  with  the  religious  sentiment,  may  be  said 
to  be  natural,  especially  in  warm  cUmates.  Its  origin  however,  so  far  as  re- 
spects the  Hebrews,  may  be  traced  to  the  Egyptians,  whose  priests,  we  are  told, 
practised  it,  as  Banus  did,  repeatedly  both  day  and  night.  (1) 

(1)  See  Sir  J.  O.  Wilkinson's  Mannert  and  Customs  0/  the  Aim.  Efryptiarts  (Lond.  8°  1837  and  1841),  vol. 
iii.  p.  358,  —  a  work  v?hich  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  reading  only  after  the  completion  of  these  NotcB  and 
while  the  drama  was  going  through  the  press:  which  will  explain  why  the  information  or  illustration 
thence  derived  appears  at  the  foot  of  a  page,  or  at  the  end  of  a  note,  instead  of  being  embodied  in  it  as  it 
deserved. 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  113 


conjecture  of  Dr.  Hudson,  mentioned  by  Wliiston  in  a  note  to 
the  passage,  that  this  Banus  might  well  have  been  a  follower 
of  John  the  Baptist,  is  wholly  gratuitous.  Banus  was  more  lilcely, 
what  John  the  Baptist  was,  an  ascetic  of  the  kind  we  see  more 
than  once  indicated  in  Scripture,  as  in  the  case  of  Elijah  et  al. 
and,  from  what  Joscphus  has  implied,  belonged  to  the  Esseans, 
as  I  have  supposed  did  also  John.  See  in  Whiston's  translation, 
note  p.  17  of  Vol.  I. ,  Oxford  ed.  (  §  2  of  Life )  and  p.  31  ( §  47 ). 
The  strong  resemblance  between  the  usages,  religious  and  so- 
cial, of  the  E/iso'i;  Esscni,  or  Esseans  and  those  of  the  primitive 
Christians  did  not  escape  the  early  Fathers  of  the  Church,  the 
most  of  whom,  following  the  indication  of  Eusebius,  affected  to 
consider  them  and  their  kindred  sect  in  Egypt  ( the  Therajwutes ) 
as  actual  followers  of  Jesus,  whereas,  as  a  matter  of  chronology 
merely,  they  both  preceded  him.  See  EusEB.  Hist.  Bed  ii.  c. 
17,  and  the  note  in  refutation,  col.  175  t.  xx.  Patr.  Gra'C.  ed. 
B.  cit.  *;  SozOMENl  H.  E.  i.,  c.  13,  propeji/i.,  with  the  two  anno- 
tations, col.  895  t.  Ixvii. ,  P.  G.  Photius  however  regarded  the 
coincidence  more  dispassionately.  Cf.  Mangey :  not.  ad  p.  471 
Philon.  Op.  t.  ii.  Lond.  in  fol.  1743.  See  also  Joseph.  Antiq. 
Jud.  xviii.  c.  i.  p.  870,  t.  i.  ed.  Havercamp.  Amstel.  etc.  in  fol. 
1736.  Among  modem  writers  of  Church  History,  the  Prot- 
estant Gfrorer  has  not  hesitated  to  say  {Allgem.  Kirclienge- 
scJiich.  t.  i.  (  Stuttg.  8"  1844 )  p.  153 ),  that  he  who  does  not  see  in 
the  Essean  Order  the  great  forerunner  of  Christianity  is  utterly 
without  capacity  for  history:  "er  moge  von  der  Geschichte 
feme  bleiben,  denn  aUer  historische  Sinn  geht  ihin  ab. "    He  is 

*  The  Bishop  gives  it  as  hearsay  (Aoyos  ex^Ot  t^at  Philo  had  intercourse 
with  Peter  at  Rome,  wlio  was  then  preacki»ff  there !  whence  he  infers  that  tlie 
famous  Jewish  writer  drew  much  of  his  information  and  presumed  Christianity 
from  that  erudite  apostle.  In  the  same  spirit,  but  less  excusably,  "Whiston  as- 
sumes Josephns  to  have  been  an  Elnonite  Christian:  note  p.  548,  vol.  ii. 
Bohn's  ed.  —    See  subnote  1,  p.  147. 


114  NOTES  TO 


right :  Christianity  is  nothing  else  than  an  offshoot  of  Esseanism, 
transplanted,  and  by  peculiar  advantages  of  soil  and  cultivation 
bearing  such  goodly  fruit,  as  is  to  its  original  wild  product  what 
the  plum  is  to  the  sloe,  or  the  fleshy  peach  to  the  pulplesa 
almond.  The  learned  and  candid  German  is  right,  except  per- 
haps in  his  ill-chosen  epithet  of  great:  but  he  forgot  that  intel- 
lectually none  are  so  hopelessly  blind  as  those  who  will  not  see, 
who  dare  not  see,  or  who  pretend  not  to  see.  The  omission  in. 
the  New  Testament  of  all  mention  of  these  Jewish  Puritans,  as 
the  Esseans  may  be  called,  when  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees 
are  so  often  named,  is  certainly  significant.  Josephus,  who 
really  has  not  a  word  about  Christ  or  Christians  {see  below,  note 
21),  paints  admiringly  and  lovingly  the  habits  of  the  Esseans,  as 
PhUo,  with  a  like  interest,  does  of  the  Therapeutes.  The  former 
of  these  writers  is,  in  the  English  version,  in  almost  all  private 
libraries.  Not  to  adduce  other  particulars  which  will  startle, 
perhaps  painfully,  every  reader  who  familiar  %vith  the  New  Tes- 
tament meets  for  the  first  time  with  the  portraiture  referred 
to,  there  are  the  lustration  by  water  and  the  comvion  meal;  the 
latter  of  which  bears  a  strildng  resemblance  to  that  of  the 
Christians  as  described  by  Justin.  The  water  ceremony  is  pro- 
nounced by  Gfrorer  (I.  c.  p.  151)  the  true  historical  migin  of 
Christian  baptism.  It  is  indisputably.  WTio  looks  for  any  other 
errs  against  one  of  the  first  principles  of  philosophy,  and  darken.<j 
his  windows  to  light  a  farthing  candle  at  noonday. 

3. — P.  20.  —  "  the  beginning  " — ]  AUuding  to  the  first  words 
of  Genesis,  by  which  that  book  was  designated  with  the  Hebrews. 
"In  the  beginning,  the  gods  [clohi/n,  pi.  Heb.]  created  the  heaven 
and  the  earth."     Probably  a  purely  Egyjotian  sentence,*  taken 

*  Cf.  Gen.  1.26:  .."Let  its  make  man  in  02(r  image,  after  our  like- 
ness ".  .  .  ;  also  III.  23 :  .  . "  Behold  the  man  is  become  as  one  of  us.".  .  No 
reasoning  can  deprive  these  phrases  of  their  simple  meaning,  which  implies,  and 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  115 


perhaps  from  tlie  sacred  hooks  mentioned  by  Manetlio ;  and  in 
like  manner  that  which  follows,  which  indicates,  so  far  as  we 
know  and  may  conjecture  from  what  we  know,  the  cosmogony  of 
the  Egyptian  priesthood.  See  Wilkinson's  ^?ic.  Egyps.  2d.  ser.  vol. 
1.  pp.  273-0  and  ii.  134  sq. ;  also,  ib.  i.  337  at  bottom,  the  citation 
from  Plutarch,  which  wUl  remind  the  reader  of  a  theory  preva- 
lent among  men  of  science  in  his  own  day.     Cf.  Job^  xxxviii,  9. 

4. — P.  21.  — providoii  —  am2)le  as  Solomon'' s.']  1  Kings  iv. 
22,  23. 

5. — P.  22.  Tour  Moses  taugM  you  lore  After  the  fables  of  the 
priests  of  On.]  Acts  vii.  22.  —  It  is  not  unlikely  that  he  was 
himself  a  priest  in  the  City  of  the  Sun,  as  Manetho  would  have 
it  (see  Agst.  Ajnon  I.  26, )  and  as  is  apparent  from  the  internal 
evidence  of  his  o\\xl  laws.*     The  Egyptian  historian  says  he  was 

In  a  manner  indicating  a  prevalent  opinion  not  admitting  of  dispute,  a  belief  in 
polytheism.  The  Septuagint  have  indeed  chosen  to  read  6  ©eo5,  God,  wherever 
the  Hebrew  copies  have  the  plural  as  above  :  but  they  have  not  been  able  to  per- 
vert or  mystify  the  plain  signification  of  the  last  of  these  sentences :  ISou  A6a/i 
yeyof€>'  <os  cU  ef    y]  ixiav  • 

*  No  man  ever  made  those  laws  who  was  not  bred  a  priest,  and  who  had  not 
come  from  a  hierarchy  that  exercised  the  most  absolute  power  over  the  minds  of 
the  vulgar.  The  tyranny  of  his  legislation,  which,  after  his  Egyptian  models, 
regulates  even  the  pettiest  details  of  the  household,  the  diet  and  the  dress,  put- 
ting thus  a  thousand  chains  of  discipline  and  religious  form  upon  both  mind  and 
body,  has  perhaps  never  been  equaled  save  in  the  moral  and  religious  vassalage 
once  effected  by  the  church  of  Rome.  Besides,  if  he  was  not  a  priest  and  of 
Egypt,  what  becomes  of  the  assertion  that  he  was  instructed  in  all  the  wisdom 
of  its  people  ?  The  jealousy  with  which  that  exclusive  possession  of  its  hierarchy 
was  guarded,  a  possession  to  whose  full  enjojonent  not  even  all  of  its  own  body  were 
admitted  (i).  would  not  have  been  relaxed  in  favor  of  one  of  a  degraded  and  sub- 
ject race,  even  could  there  have  been  found  the  opportunity  of  acquiring  it,  occu- 
pied as  he  Is  described  to  have  been  in  his  very  doubtful  history.     Yet  Josephus 

(1)  Cs.  Clem.  Alex.  Slrom.  V.  c.  vll.  ad  init.    (Op.  In  Migne  P.  a.  Ix.  col.  08.) 


IIG  NOTES   TO 

bom  in  Heliopolis  and  was  named  Osai'sipTi,  from  tlie  god  Osiris, 
but  himself  changed  his  name  afterward  to  Moses,  ib.* 

The  word  Moses  ( Mouses ),  which  we  are  told  signified  in  Egyp- 
tian Wate7'-saDed,j;  may  have  suggested  the  pretty  fable  of  the 
floating  cradle,  or  may  have  been  devised  to  correspond  and  give 
permanence  as  well  as  verisimilitude  to  that  invention.     Or  again, 

has  dared  to  make  him  a  successful  general  under  the  reigning  Pharaoh  ( Afit.  J. 
II.  X.  1.), —  in  the  same  spirit  in  which  he  assigns  to  simple  Abram  the  mastery 
of  arithmetic  and  astronomy,  which  that  patriarch  is  made  to  have  imparted  to 
the  Egyptians,  who  at  a  later  day  enlightened  the  Greeks,  ( ib.  I.  viii.  2  ) ;  a  prepos- 
terous fable,  which  Eusebius  repeats,  citing  in  confirmation  Eupolemus,  out  of 
Polyhistor,  with  the  improvement  that  Abram  was  the  inventor  of  those  sciences 
(  Prcep.  Evang.  Op.  in  Migne  P.  G.  xxi.  cc.  706  sq. ) ;  whereas,  apart  from  a  hun- 
dred other  reasons  that  might  be  assigned  against  it,  were  it  worth  the  arguing, 
there  is  the  probable  fact,  derived  from  a  better  authoritj',  that  the  Chaldeans  of 
Babylon  were  originally  a  colony  of  Egyptians  who  can-ied  with  them  thither  the 
science  of  their  priests.  (2)  I  imagine  that  the  Cambridge  Professor  of  Mathe- 
matics would  have  had  something  to  say  thereon,  if  his  object  were  not  always 
to  justify  rather  than  correct  his  mendacious  historian. 

*  Aeyerai  6'  oTi.,  K.  T.  A.  Bid  it  is  said  that  the  priest  icho  laid  the  foundations 
of  their  state  and  latcs.  by  birth  a  Heliopolitan,  ire  name  Osarsijih,  from  the  god 
Osiris  in  Heliopolis,  lohen  he  had  gone  over  to  this  people  changed  his  name  a7id 
was  called  Moijses.  Contr.  Apionem  :  1.  i.  §  26,  ad  fin.  Jos.  Op.  t.  vi.  ed.  Richter, 
12°.  Lips.  1826. 

On  (  pron.  own  )  and  Heliopolis  were  one,  according  to  the  Seventy  :  (  .  .  icai 
tlv,  1)  e(TTLv  'HAiouTToAis.  Exod.  i.  11.  )  For  its  reputation  as  a  seat  of  learning,  see 
Wilkinson.  IV.  301,  sq. 

t  From  ' '  Mo,"  water,  and  "  Uses  ",  the  rescued  therefrom.  Jos.  Aiit.  II.  ix.  6. — 
Elsewhere,  he  divides  the  word  differently  :  to  &'  a\r)9€i  ovo/j-a,  k.  t.  A.  — but 
the  true  name  indicates  tlie  saved  from  the  water,  ifoyses ;  for  the  Egyptians  call 
water  Hoy  [  Mwi;  ].  Apion.  i.  31.  prope  fin.  It  is  not  an  uncommon  thing  for 
Josephus  to  have  two  ways  of  teUing  one  thing. 

(2)  ♦a<7t  Se  Kai  Tovc  ev  BafivXcuv  XaX^atoi/f ,  awoixovq  AiYWTttcv  ovrai;.  rrv  So^av  fx^tv  rriv  wept  tt^c 
aar/ioXoyiac.  Trapa  ruiv  Uptov  /^aSovTai;  Twv  At-yvmicuv.  DIOD.  SIC.  I.  Ixxxi.  p.  240  t.  1.  Wesseling. 
ed.  (8»  Bijiont.  1793.  )  With  which  compare  ib.  c.  xiviii  ad.  init.  p.  79. 

I  have  argued  above  on  the  assumption  that  there  was  such  a  person  as  the  Chaldean  Abram,  whereas 
1  have  very  great  doubts  whether  such  ever  existed  except  in  the  sacred  traditions  of  the  Egyptians 
respecting  the  patriarchs  of  their  own  race,  -whose  first  man  was  molded  of  red  earth  in  that  Garden  which 
was  surrounded  by  the  branching  Nile  in  what  is  Icnown  as  the  Delta. 


THE   NEW    CALVARY  117 


the  son  of  Jochebed  may  have  so  called  himself,  or  have  been  so 
called  by  acclamation  of  the  people,  in  what  must  have  been  their 
famihar  tong^ie,  the  Egyptian,  to  denote  their  presentation,  when, 
by  the  swift  in-rushing  of  the  tide,  the  "Memphian  chivalry" 
were  prevented  from  pursuing  over  the  ford. 

6. — P.  23.  ^"itness  the  death-fruit  and  theserpenfs  grille,  etc.] 
Whence  Moses,  or  whoever  wrote  the  first  book  of  the  Pentateuch, 
drew  the  fable  of  the  origin  of  sin,  cannot  now  be  knowTi ;  for  we 
have  only  fragments  of  the  Egyptian  historians.  The  Babylonian 
priest,  Berosus,  who  lived  about  three  centuries  before  Josephus, 
had,  as  we  find  in  this  latter  writer  (c.  Ap.  i.  19,)  the  story  of 
Noah  and  the  Ark.  In  all  probabihty,  he  drew  it,  if  not  directly 
yet  through  the  Chaldean  records,  from  the  same  sources  as  the 
author  of  Genesis,  that  is  fi'om  the  sacred  books  of  Egypt ;  and  it 
is  safe  to  conclude,  that,  in  the  account  of  the  Creation  (with 
which  almost  all  historians,  down  to  the  comparatively  modem 
date  of  the  Middle  Ages,  thought  themselves  bo\md  to  begin  their 
books,)  his  narrative,  and  likewise  that  of  Manetho,  and  the 
thousand  years  older  Phenician  history  of  Sanchoniathon,  would 
have  been  found  to  coiTespond  with  that  of  the  Hebrews.  The 
darkness  of  the  undistinguishable  deep  ;  the  vast  void  of  the  tm- 
animated  and  yet  chaotic  earth  ;  the  unseparated  and  encompas- 
sing waters,  over  which  hovered,  as  if  brooding,  the  procreative 
Spirit ;  all  are,  as  indicated  in  a  previous  note,  ideas  of  the  old 
Egyptians,  *  which  found  their  way  to  the  philosophy  of  younger 
nations,  initiating  the  hypotheses  of  their  poets  and  sowing  the 
seeds  of  the  speculations  of  their  sages.  And  we  may  fairly  assume 
that  the  Garden  of  Eden,  notwithstanding  the  Hebraic  contradic- 
tion in  the  names  and  course  of  its  putative  rivers,  was,  as  already 

*  See  Wilkinson  as  before;  2d.  S.  II.  last  1  on  p.  134,  sq.  :  and  compare,  for 
the  remainder  of  the  sentence,  Ovid's  fine  opening  of  the  Metamorphoses. 


118  NOTES   TO 


suggested,  placed,  by  those  fanciful  cosmogonists,  between  the 
divergmg  branches  of  the  Nile. 

It  may  be  objected  that  the  serpent  was  an  object  of  religious 
veneration  in  Egypt,  a  symbol  of  the  power  of  its  kings,  an  orna- 
ment on  the  heads  of  its  divinities  and  a  special  emblem  of  the 
deity  Cneph  or  Cnouph  himself,  who  was  the  principal  and  oldest, 
if  not,  as  Plutarch  supposes,  the  sole  god  of  the  Thebais,  the 
Creative  Spirit  of  the  Universe.*     But  it  is  to  be  observed,  in  the 

*  It  was  perhaps  this  serpent,  the  asp,  the  emblem  of  Cneph,  which  Moses, 
inconsistently  ( though  not  for  the  first  time )  with  his  own  Commandment,  made 
out  of  brass  and  set  up,  on  the  journey  from  Mt.  Hor  by  the  Red  Sea.  Num. 
xxi.  9.  (1)    Cf.  2  Kings,  xviii.  4. 

Cneph  was  the  ayaBo^  SaL/xuiv,  the  good  demon,  of  the  Phenicians.  (2)  Vid. 
Euseb.  Prceparation.  Evang.  I.  x,  &  III.  xi,  ( cc.  88  &  206  sq.  ap.  Migne.  ed. 
PT  G.  cit.  t.  xxi.)  He  tells  us,  the  Egyptians,  when  depicting  the  world  [the 
STin,  rather,]  foi-m  a  circle,  colored  so  as  to  represent  at  once  the  appearance  of 
air  and  the  bright  redness  of  fire,  wherein  the  serpent,  haiok-formed,  lies  extended, 
as  if  holding  it  together  ;  the  whole  figure  resembling  the  letter  0,  and  the  serpent 
signifying  the  good  demon  :  .  .  .  ot  AtyuTrriot,  .  .  .  tov  Koay-ov  ypa<l>ovTe^, 
■nepi(i>epy)  kvkKov  aepoeiSrj  Kai,  nvpiovov  x"P<''<''<''Ovcrt  kctc  /iteo'oi'  reranevov  o<j>i.v 
t6paKO/xop(^oi/.  Kai  ecrrt  to  vav  (7X'7fia  <«'S  to  irap'  riiJ.iv  ©jjTa-  TOf  fiev  kvkKov 
KOtTfi-ov  tirjvvovTCi,  Tov  Se  /xeaov  o<j>iv  o^vveKTiKOV  tovtov  ayaBov  6ai/u.ora  (rrjixai- 
V0VT6S.  The  hawk-forin  must  apply  only  to  the  head  ;  for  it  is  not  easy  to  see 
how  otherwise  the  extended  serpent  could  be  made  to  resemble  the  connecting  bar 
or  cross-line  of  the  Greek  letter,  even  if  it  could  remain  a  serpent  at  all.  (s) 

Thus,  the  old  writers  made  the  asp  to  be  a  representation  of  Cneph  himself,  and 
not  his  symbol.  But  the  moderns  have  judged  better,  as  observing  and  compar- 
ing more  closely ;  and  Sir  Gardner  Wilkinson  has  given  us  an  image  of  Cneph 
with  a  ram's  head.  Such  an  image  could  not,  I  think,  have  existed  in  the  days 
of  a  pure  deism,  but  must  have  had  a  much  later  creation,  when  the  progress  of 
superstition  had  corrupted  with  the  perversions  of  a  manifest  idolatry  the  current 
faith,  tliat  faith  which  though  obscured  was  not  forgotten,  when  Moses  imbibed 
its  precepts,  if  not  orally,  yet  from  the  arcana  of  the  sacred  Viooks. 

(1)  Sec  Wilkinson's  account  of  the  Cer&etea  or  Horned  Snalie  of  Upper  E^pt,— vol.  V.  p.  246  :  and 
compare  Josepliua'  story  of  tbe  snalces  which  beset  the  march  of  Moses,  when  an  Egyptian  general, —  Ant, 
n.  X.  2. 

('2)  This  the  modern  archxologist  1  have  so  often  found  It  a  satisfaction  to  cite  at  the  close  of  these 
Notes  would  appear  to  consider  aa  error  of  Eusebius*.     See  Anc,  Egyp.  It.  p.  299. 

(S)  Cs.  as  in  subnote  2. 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  119 


first  place,  tliat  the  reptile  of  Genesis  is  spoken  of  as  but  a  rep- 
tile, (  "Now  the  serpent  was  more  subtle  tban  any  beast  of  the 
field  which  the  Lord  God  had  made  "  *  ) ;  and  in  the  next,  that 
the  author  or  authors  of  Genesis,  writing  in  the  iconoclastic  spirit 
of  Moses,  and  long  after  his  generation  had  passed  away,  may 
have  wished  to  hold  up  the  serj^ent  as  an  object  of  special  detesta- 
tion, because  of  its  prominence  and  almost  constant  appearance 
among  the  symbols  of  idolatry ;  and  they  may  be  supposed  to 
have  altered  in  some  respects  a  fable  which  there  is  every  reason 
to  believe  had  its  origin  with  the  priests  of  F,gypt,  and  no  reason 
whatever  to  maintain  to  have  originated  with  the  inferior,  if  not 
derivate  race  of  the  Jews.  The  form  of  the  globe,  where  small, 
with  the  accompanying,  or  sometimes  partially  enfolding  asp,  so 
common  in  the  Egyptian  monuments,  is  such  as  to  remind  one 
forcibly  of  the  story  of  the  fruit  ' '  whose  mortal  taste  brought 
death  into  the  world  "  ;  and  if  the  invention  of  the  fable  is  Jewish, 
it  may  have  been  suggested  by  that  familiar  image. 

Further,  there  was  a  snake  among  the  idols,  which  was  not  the 
emblem  of  a  beneficent  deity,  far  less  the  representation  of  a  good 
spirit,  but,  as  with  some  other  nations,  what  may  be  called  a 
natural  type  of  the  secret,  insidious  and  maleficent  spirit  of  evil, 
or  of  the  Evil  One  himself,  precisely  as  it  is  in  the  Jewish  fable, 
if  there  the  serpent  is  indeed  meant  to  be  the  incarnation  of  any 
demon. f 

*  A  belief  ( that  of  the  serpent's  subtlety  )  which  may  have  helped  to  give  him 
his  emblematic  impoi-tance  in  Egypt,  where  the  secrecy,  celerity  and  noiseless- 
ness  of  his  movemenis,  so  unlike  to  those  of  other  animals,  may  have  been 
thought  to  symbolize  the  mysterious  operations  of  the  Deity  ;  a  feeble  and  inade- 
quate type  to  us  certainly,  but  not  to  that  people  whose  gods  tvere  born  in  their 
gardens.  "As  wise  as  serpents"  is  a  well-known  phrase  of  the  New  Testament, 
which  alludes  to  a  long-prevalent  idea  with  the  Jews,  derived  doubtless  from 
Egypt,  and  which  probably  our  own  deri\  ed  religion  has  transmitted  to  us. 

t  Cs.  Wilkinson  again,  vol.  V.  p.  243  sqq.  I  am  glad  to  see  that  he  discredits 
the  popular  notion  that  the  serpent  biting  his  own  tail  (  an  image  which  he  ap- 


120  NOTES    TO 


And  the  man  molded^  etc. J  Egypt  was  the  mother  of  sculpture 
as  well  as  architecture  ( unless  India  was  before  her  ia  both, )  and 

pears  not  to  have  met  with  in  early  monuments )  was  with  the  Egyptians  an 
emblem  of  eternity.  If  there  was  anything  more  than  simple  fancy  or  conve- 
nience that  dictated  this  unnatural  position.  I  should  like  to  believe  it  was  meant 
to  typify  the  vexation  of  the  Evil  One  after  the  partial  defeat  of  his  practices  on 
our  first  parents,  and  that  the  enfolded  globe  stood  for  the  fatal  fruit.  But  such 
a  conjecture  would  be  in  contradiction  to  all  that  we  know  from  the  records  and 
observations  of  ancient  authors,  as  well  as  the  discoveries  of  modern  travelers, 
and  would  find  nowhere  a  basis  of  support  in  any  of  them.  (') 

Maimonides  tells  us  that  the  Jewish  doctors  made  the  Devil  to  have  appeared 
to  Eve  not  in  the  form  of  a  serpent,  but  mounted  upon  one  the  size  of  a  camel. 
More  Nevochim.  Part.  II.  cap.  xxx.  pp.  280,  sq.  Buxtorf.  ( Basil.  4to,  1629.) 
The  passage  will  be  found  translated  in  the  notes  to  the  "Epistle  to  Satan", — 
Arthur  Carryl,  Etc.  pp.  232,  3. 

Clemens  Alexandrinus  ventures  to  suppose  that  it  was  the  name  Eva  which 
was  shouted  in  the  Dionysia,  and  would  have  it  that  that  name  signifies,  when 
aspirated  ( Beva  ),  a  female  serpent.  Cohort,  ad  Gentes  Cap.  ii.  Op.  vol.  I. 
(in  Migne  t.  vlii.  c.  72  sq.,  and  note  ib.)  If  any  importance  could  be  attached  to 
such  a  conjecture,  which  is  purely  fanciful,  it  would  help  to  confirm  my  position ; 
for  the  Bacchic  rites  came  from  Egypt.  I  mention  it  merely  as  a  philological 
curiosity. 

(1)  With  my  self-persuasion,  or  indeed  without  it,  that  the  story  of  Kden  ia  Egyptian,  I  am  tempted  to 
tbilil£  that  the  idea  of  the  (re«  o/Aaouj/cdfe  may  have  had  its  fanciful  suggestion  in  the  emblematic,  or  at 
least  sacred  character  attached  to  the  persea  {-nepaia),  a  tree  no  longer  extant,  but  sulllcientl^ 
described  by  ancient  writers.  See  Willtinson  as  above,  pp.  392  i  406,  who  conjectures  that  Plutarch  (  7>. 
et  01.)  had  reference  really  to  thia  tree  and  not  to  the  peach  {nepaiKyj,  amt/gdaltta  Persica.  Lin.l» 
when  speaking  of  its  sacredness  in  Egypt  and  lil^ening  its  fruit  in  shape  to  a  heart  and  its  leaves  to  the 
human  (on^-uc,— although  the  peach  fruit,  which  ia  thought  to  be  derivtd  by  artificial  culture  from  the 
almond,  may  have  had  originally  that  ovoid  shape,  and  its  leaves  too  have  been  more  rounded  at  the  citrem* 
ity  than  they  are  now.  Theophrastus  indeed  tejls  us  that  the  fruit  of  the  persea,  whil4;  like  the  pear  in  size* 
was  oblong,  or  very  long,  in  form,  npo^axpot;,  like  an  almond,  afj.tjy$aXuiS^^,  He  speaks  of  the  tree  as  an 
evergreen,  atLtpvWov  (  ever-leaved  ),  contrasting  it  in  that  respect  with  the  pear-tree,  which  he  says 
it  iiery  much  resembled  in  leaves  and  flowers  and  boughs,  calling  it  previously  a  large  and  beautiful  tree. 
He  adds  that  the  color  of  the  fruit  was  herbaceous,  or  dark  green,  nowSei,  the  ptilp  extremely  jiceer  and 
pleasant  and  digestible,  so  that  it  might  be  eaten  of  freely  without  inconvenience,—  ovSev  yap  tvoxXtt  iroXw 
npoaevfyiaf^evov.  Hist.  Plant  IV.  ii.  Op.  I.  p.  123.  ed.  Schneider  (  Lips.  8°.  1818.)  See  too,  ib.,  note  5,  p. 
284  t.  III.  Dioscorides  has  but  little  to  aay  about  the  persea,  except  that  certain  writers  had  related  that 
the  fruit  was  very  poisonous  (a)  in  its  native  Persia,  but  had  become  edible  after  transplantation  to  the  soil 
of  Egypt  :  Mat.  Med.  I.  ad  fin.  p.  166,  t.  I.  ed.  Kiihn.  (  Lips.  e».  1829)  :  a  fact  which,  with  due  qualifica- 
tion, is  not  unlikely  in  itself  and  makes  it  stiil  more  probable  thai  it  was,  like  the  peach,  of  kin  to  the 
almond,  if  not  derived  from  the  almond  by  some  process  or  accident  of  cultivation  that  left  it  In  a  sort  of 
transition-state  between  the  almond  and  the  peach.  In  Ferrario, —  Cost.  Ant.  e  Mod. —  Africa  I.  tip 
(  Firenze,  H^.  1824,)  —  will  be  found,  gathered  from  ancient  authors,  a  captivating  account  of  this  sacred  and 
mystic,  yet  favorite  Egyptian  fruit-tree. 

(a)  AvaipcTtKoVt  deadly  ;  probably  an  exaggeration. 


THE   NEW   CALVARY  121 


the  mctliotl  of  the  sculptor  in  forming  his  models  of  fictile  clay 
would  suggest  the  fancy  of  Adam's  being  fashioned  of  red  earth. 

7.— P.  23.     Moses  ask\l,     What  etc.]     See  Exod.  iii.  13,  14. 

8. — P.  25.     The  Unutterable — ]     Oyojia  yap  toi  appnT<.>  Oeo  ovScn 

c^ct    eiiTciv   ct    Ss   rij    To^princtcv    eivat    Xcyciv,    ptprjiic    Trjv    oomtov    paviav, 

( For  it  belongs  to  none  to  give  name  to  the  unspeakable  God:  but 
if  a7iy  should  dare  to  say  it  exists  [the  name  —  i.  e.  that  He  has  a 
name],  he  ravet  tcith  incurable  madness.  Justin.  Mart.  xix)ol.  I. 
61.  {Patr.  Gr.  VI.  423.)     See  also  Apol.  II.  6.  {ib.  451.) 

This  of  course  means  any  actual  name  that  belongs  to  Him  as 
the  personal  name  to  a  human  individual ;  for  the  appellations 
we  use  are  merely  indicative  of  His  attributes,  power,  etc. ;  and 
Justin  so  explains  it.  But  the  Jews  carried  their  religious  reti- 
cence so  far  as  to  shun,  those  who  professed  peculiar  veneration, 
the  utterance  of  even  the  names  by  men  appropriated,  as  for  ex- 
ample Ihoah  (Jehovah, )  —  cf.  Jos.  Ant.  II.  xii.  4:  which  I  main- 
tain to  be  a  reasonable  awe,  however  misused  in  super-sanctity  by 
the  Pharisees. 

But  in  aU  of  this  they  had  the  lesson,  as  in  most  other  things, 
from  Egj'pt,  where  even  the  gods  of  idolatry  were,  some  of  them, 
too  holy  to  be  openly  designated.  Thus  Herodotus  finds  it  unlaw- 
ful in  his  work  to  pronounce  the  name  of  Osiris  ;  though  perhaps 
he  may  mean  to  imply  some  particular  appellation  which  was  given 
to  that  prominent  divinity  by  the  priests  among  themselves  and 
before  the  initiated,  but  never  revealed  to  the  common  world. 

9. — P.  26.     When  Ziimn,  etc.]     Numbers,  xxv. 

10. — P.  27.     —  the  captive pi'ophet  saio,  etc.]     JSJzekicl,  viii. 

11. — P.  28.     — Gossen—]      Goshen.      So   in  the   version   of 
Vol.  VI.— 6. 


122  NOTES    TO 


Castellio.  The  Seventy  make  it  Fco-t/i  Apu/Jiur,  Gessem  of  Arabia. 
A  commentator  in  Herries'  Bible  says  it  is  so  designated,  as  lying 
near  to  a  part  of  Arabia, — which  is  absurd, — but  quotes  Shaw 
to  the  effect  that  Ramesses  or  Goshen  was  the  HeHopolitan  Nome, 
taking  in  that  part  of  Arabia  [?]  which  was  partly  bounded  by 
the  Nile  and  partly  by  the  Red  Sea.  In  Genesis  xlvi.  29,  it  is 
said,—"  Joseph  .  .  went  up^  avePn,  to  meet  Israel  his  father".  . 
And  this  meeting,  according  to  the  Septuagint  and  to  Josephus, 
took  place  at  Heroopolis  :  and  the  latter  says  the  King  gave  Jacob 
permission  to  reside  in  HeliopoUs.*  How  then  could  Goshen  be 
in  Arabia  ?  or,  if  it  was,  what  becomes  of  the  passage  of  the  Red 
Sea? 

If  that  charming  story  of  Joseph's  fortunes  is  true,  Joseph 
himself  must  have  resided  in  the  royal  city ;  and  he  is  made  to 
tell  his  father  and  brethren  that  they  should  be  near  him :  though 
how  they  could  be  so  near  the  coui't  and  yet  so  far  from  the 
Egyptian  i^eoi^le  as  not  to  give  these  offence  ( see  Gen.  xlvi.  ad 
fin. )  is  not  apparent.  Again,  Tvdthout  this  proximity,  without 
indeed  the  actual  residence  of  the  Israelites  within  the  city,  the 
events  could  not  have  transpired  that  are  pretended  to  have  sig- 
naUzed  a  later  period,  nor  cotdd  the  departing  tribes  have  spoiled 
their  oppressors.     But  if  we  reject  that  story  and  the  whole  fable 

*  Ant.  Jucl.  II.  vii.  6:  where  (in  the  city),  curiously  enough,  to  make  plausi- 
ble the  assertion,  he  tells  us  the  king's  cattle  were  pastured.  Heroopolis  was 
midway  between  Arsinoe  or  Suez,  the  Pelusiotio  mouth  of  the  Nile  and  HeliopoUs. 
This  latter  city  was  at  the  apex  of  the  Delta ;  and  Memphis,  which  is  supposed 
to  have  been  the  royal  capital,  as  it  was  the  metropolis  of  the  whole  country,  lay 
on  the  west  bank  of  the  Nile,  below  it  about  fifteen  miles.  We  have  seen  that 
Moses  was  said  to  have  been  a  priest  at  Heliopolis,  which,  if  his  people  were  there 
settled  for  over  two  centuries  [credat  Judxus)^  might  easily  have  been.  At  all 
events,  in  that  city,  renowned  not  for  pasturage  but  for  learning,  from  whose 
broad,  not  deep,  nor  quite  pellucid  fountains  both  Pythagoras  and  Plato  largely 
drew,  he  may  well  be  supposed  to  have  imbibed  a  portion,  if  not  "all"  of  "the 
wisdom  of  the  Egyptians." 


THE   NEW   CALVARY  123 


of  the  crossing  of  the  Red  Sea,  then  Goshen  or  Gessem  might  well 
be  ia  that  part  of  Arabia  which  had  been  conquered  by  the  Pha- 
raohs. And  so  placed,  —  that  is,  the  people  who  left  Egj'pt  under 
Moses  occupj-ing  such  a  part  of  the  Egji^tian  realm,  ( which  is  the 
more  probable  because  they  were  keepers  of  flocks  and  the  Egyp- 
tians had  a  national  hatred  of  all  shepherds, )  *  —  their  wandering 
southward  after  the  exodus  is  no  longer  unaccountable. 

So  much  for  the  accredited  hLstory  of  the  Hebrews.  But, 
taking  into  consideration  what  is  said  of  their  servile  condition 
and  of  their  being  employed  to  build  certain  cities,  I  am  more 
than  half -persuaded  that  Manetho  tells  from  his  countiy's  archives 
the  straighter  tale,  and  that  Moses  himself  was  infected  with 
leprosy  ;  whence,  and  not  because  of  Aaron's  seniority,  he  pre- 
ferred the  latter  to  the  high-priesthood. 

12. — P.  20.  nis  stainless  me.ssenger?]  The  monstrousness  of 
the  invention  is  not  a  httle  increased  by  this  absurd  particular  ; 
for,  if  the  deed  was  done  by  the  angel,  it  could  not  have  been 
necessary  to  mark  the  doors  that  were  to  be  avoided.  Josephus 
takes  good  care  to  say  nothing  of  this  marking,  although  he  speaks 
of  the  destruction  of  the  first-bom  of  the  Egyptians  and  the  pass- 

*  In  the  last  verse  of  the  chapter,  in  Joseph's  caution  to  his  father  about  the 
occupation  of  his  family,  we  have  the  territorial  designation  repeated  :  iva.  Kara- 
Koia-riTe  ev  yji  rfo-e/a,  ApajSias,  —  that  ye  may  dwell  in  the  land  of  Gessem  in  Ara- 
bia. This  looks  suspicious.  They  were  to  be  sent  thither,  or  to  request  to  be,  as 
out  of  the  way  of  the  Egyptians:  pSe\vyiia  yap  eaTti'  AiyuTrnois  T-a?  Troi^trji' 
npoparuiv  for,  continues  the  royal  favorite,  an  abomination  to  the  Egyptians  is 
every  pastor  of  flocks.  (') 

(1)  BtffXvy^a  Is  an  exprpsnion  of  the  strongest  disgnst  and  contempt.  Litcralljr.  a  stench  in  iht  noS' 
tTxlt ;  or  even  peditum  by  its  etymology,  fjSetu, —  according  to  the  scurril  practical  mode  of  expressing  su- 
preme yet  droU  contempt,  among  the  rabblement  of  all  nations.  The  classical  reader  will  readily  bring  to 
mind  the 

"  Hodle  triceslma  sabbata  :  tin'  tu 
Curtit  JudaeiM  oppedcre  7  " 

or  Horace  :  •  coarse  bnt  strong  witticism  that  would  have  suited  the  dirt  of  Swift,  yet  found  like  a  laugh*. 
ble  squint  in  that  bright-featured  little  satire,  the  IXIh  of  Book  I.  ;  where  see,  by  the  by,  ( in  Zetinii  «f. 
Lond.  &°.  1600,)  the  curious  annotation  on  curtit.  It  has  an  amusing  bearing  on  the  subiect  matter  of  otxr 
Nol«  16. 


124  NOTES    TO 


ing-over  of  the  Israelites.  See  Antiq.  II.  xiv.  6 :  where  he  also 
teUsus,  not  that  his  people  boiTowed,  but  that  the  Egyptians  freely 
gave  them,  both  those  who  were  friends  or  neighbors  and  those 
who  were  glad  to  expedite  their  departure. 

The  sophistry  by  which  Whiston  {note  p.  154,  vol.  1.  Oxf.  ed.) 
endeavors  to  soften  the  act  of  the  Hebrews,  by  making  the  gifts  a 
pay  and  reward  of  their  long  service  to  their  Egyptian  masters,  is 
a  familiar  kind  of  Jesuitism  which  has  done  irretrievable  mischief 
to  morals  in  every  like  indefensible  record  in  the  Bible.* 

13. — P.  29.  — the  mystic  stone  of  Truth — ]  "  Diodorus  and 
JElian  both  teU  us,  that  the  high  priest  of  the  Egyptians  wore  a 
precious  stone  about  his  neck,  which  was  called  Truth  ;  and  this 
is  the   same  name  by  which  the  LXX  translate  Thummim?''  f 

*  The  translator  jusfc-named  cames  it  so  far  as  to  justify  the  daughters  of  Lot, 
and,  by  Implication,  incest  in  general  under  certain  circumstances.  See  his  last 
note  to  chap,  xi.  Book  I.  A.  J. 

t  Wilkinson  says,  of  his  favorite  Egyptians  :  "  When  a  case  was  brought  for 
trial,  it  was  customary  for  the  arch-judge  to  put  a  golden  chain  round  his  neck, 
to  which  was  suspended  a  small  figure  of  Tnith,  ornamented  with  precious  stones. 
This  was  in  fact  a  representation  of  the  goddess  who  was  worshipped  under  the 
double  character  of  Truth  and  Justice,  and  whose  name,  Thmei,  ["hence  the 
d€/tii9  of  the  Greeks,"  ]  appears  to  have  been  the  origin  of  the  Hebrew  Thum- 
mim ;  a  word,  according  to  the  Septuagint  translation,  implying  tnith,  and  bear- 
ing a  further  analogy  in  its  plural  termination.  And  what  makes  it  more  re- 
markable is,  that  the  chief  priest  of  the  Jews,  who  before  the  election  of  a  king 
was  also  the  judge  of  the  nation,  was  alone  entitled  to  wear  this  honorary  badge  ; 
and  the  Thummim,  like  the  Egyptian  figure,  was  studded  with  precious  stones  of 
various  colours."  vol.  II.  26-28.  The  figure  there  given  of  the  goddess  will  be 
found  to  correspond  with  the  kneeling  figures  of  the  Ark  mentioned  presently. 
The  author  tells  us  in  a  note  :  "  Lord  Prudhoe  has  very  ingeniously  suggested  that 
the  Urim  is  derived  from  the  tico  asps  or  basilisks,  %t,rei^  which  were  the  emblems 
of  royalty  in  Egypt.  Ouro  is  the  Egyptian  word  implying  a  king."  But  see 
thereon  2d.  ser.  vol.  II.  p.  28,  where  Wilkinson  gives  his  own  opinion,  which  in- 
clines to  that  of  those  who  consider  Urlnx  and  Thuminim  to  signify  "  lights  and 
perfections  "  or  "  light  and  truth,"    Thus  Castellio,  instead  of  Urim  and  Thunir 


THE   NEW   CALVARY  125 


Note  to  V.  30,  cliap.  xxviii,  Exod.,  in  Hemes'  Bible  (Lond.  fol. 
1781. )  "  The  ga-and  ornaments  that  wore  to  be  worn  by  the  high 
priest  may  sei-ve  as  a  striking  proof  of  the  hardheartcdness  of  the 
Jews.  Tliey  had  scon  the  religious  rites  of  the  Egyptians," 
[during  315  years  it  would  bo  strange  if  they  had  not,]  "  and  as 
their  notions  were  carnal,  so  God  permitted  them  "  [observe  this 
conception  of  the  Deity  !]  "to  use  ceremonies,  which,  although 
merely  typical,  could  only  captivate  the  senses."  Practical  lie- 
fleet,  ib.  Thus  it  is  that  simple  theologians  reason,  having 
always  before  their  eyes  the  one  aim  which  is  never  to  be  lost 
sight  of,  the  one  belief  which  must  be  made  triumphant  at  any 
cost  of  dissimulation,  or  untruth,  or,  as  above,  of  degradation 
of  the  Divine  character.  The  clerical  annotator  saw  the  facts 
that  arose  directly  before  him,  recorded  them,  then,  shutting  his 
eyes,  took  counsel  of  positive  faith  and  stopped  his  ears  to  the 
suggestions  of  understanding.  Hence  his  Reflections  are  the 
naiTow  orthodoxy  of  a  sermon.  Why  cannot  the  religion  of 
Moses  be  left  to  stand  as  it  was  ?  the  pure  deism  taught  by  a 
priest  whose  disgust  at  the  multitudinous  and  degrading  forms 
in  which  his  fellows  had  wrapped  the  primitive  faith  was  inten- 
sified and  made  active  by  personal  resentment,  but  who  was  not 
able  to  wean  himself,  or  at  least  his  people,  from  the  observ- 
ances, and  pomp  of  ceremony  and  of  decoration,  they  had  been 
accustomed  to,  and  certainly  not  to  abandon  the  trickery,  even 

mim,  has  in  Levit.  viii.  8.  ''■  ClarUa-i  et  integi-itas", — unless  he  uses  Clarltas  in 
a  jjoculiar  (not  classical)  figui'ative  sense,  to  correspond  with  his  second  phrase, 
as  the  Septuagint  employ  5?)A<oo-ts,  ■inanifeMation,  declaration  :  koi  en-eOjjKev  67ri 
TO  Aoyfioi'  Trfv  SrjAwo-tv  k  ai  rifv  aXrtd  ei  av  :  and  he  placed  upon 
the  breastplate  [Aoyetov  so  called,  I  presume,  because  it  was  the  seat  of  the  sup- 
posed oracle]  opennemi  and  truth.  In  Herries'  Bible  the  commentator,  to  my 
surprise,  appears  to  favor  as  "the  most  reasonable"  the  view  of  Hottinger  (prob- 
ably the  Swiss  professor  of  theology  of  that  name  in  the  last  quarter  of  the  17th 
century )  that  the  words  refer  merely  to  the  perfectncss  and  brightness  of  the 
etones  wliich  Moses  had  been  commanded  to  select. 


126  NOTES   TO 


wMle  revolting  from  it,  that  was  the  practice  and  the  sup- 
posed strength  of  his  order.  Moses'  great  merit  lay  in  his 
persistent,  vehement  and  even  violent  hatred  of  idolatry.  To 
this  was  owing  his  virtues  as  a  leader  and  law-giver,  but  to  this 
also  his  crimes,  his  blasj^hemous  assumption  of  familiarity  with 
the  Deity,  and  his  puerile  tricks  and  artifices,  —  if  these,  as  I 
have  just  implied,  were  not  rather  the  result  of  his  education 
and  consequent  habits  as  a  priest. 

SpJdngian,  as  applied  to  Cherubim  ( 3d  verse  below, )  is  in  allu- 
sion to  the  usually  supposed  composite  nature  of  those  figures. 
But  this  is  only  expressed  in  one  of  the  Prophets  of  a  subsequent 
age,  and  perhaps  imphed  in  one  of  the  Psalms.  The  Penta- 
teuch describes  them  not,  except  so  far  as  they  appear  to  have 
conformed  to  those  of  Egypt.  Josephus  says  ( Ant.  III.  vi.  5, 
Whiston,)  that  they  were  "flying  creatures;  but  their  form  was 
not  like  that  of  any  of  the  creatures  which  men  have  seen, 
though"  (he  adds  with  terrible  audacity)  "Moses  had  seen  such 
beings  near  the  throne  of  God."  Compare  this  with  the  descrip- 
tion in  Ezekiel's  vision,  where  one  of  the  four  faces  was  that  of  a 
"cherub",  without  its  being  said  what  that  was.  We  might 
thence  conclude  that  the  general  opinion  ai^proaches  the  truth, 
and  that  they  were  of  composite  form,  which  I  have  sought  to 
designate,  at  the  same  time  with  their  Egyptian  origin,  by  calling 
them  Sphingian.  But  the  difficulty  of  conceiving  such  shapes  in 
such  an  attitude  as  to  cover  with  their  wings  the  mercyseat 
between  them  has  made  me  hesitate,  while  correcting  the  press, 
whether  I  should  not  change  the  epithet,  to  "shadowing" 
for  example ;  and  my  perplexity  has  only  been  increased  by  find- 
ing in  Wilkinson's  work  (p.  xi,  vol.  vi,  also  p.  276,  vol.  v.)  a 
vignette  of  the  Egyptian  ark  and  cherubim  and  half -descending  cur- 
tain ( vail),  which  probably  gives  us  the  prototype  of  the  Holy  of 
Holies  of  the  Hebrews.     In  this  wood-cut,  the  "  Rjhx^  creatures  " 


THE   NEW   CALVARY  127 


are  represented  as  human  figures  *  kneeling  in  face  of  each  other, 
with  wLug^  that  appear  to  occupy  the  pUicc  of  arms,  or  to  be 
attached  to  and  to  conceal  the  anns,  and  which  extend  forward 
until  they  touch  each  other  above  and  nearly  so  below  in  the  pic- 
ture, as  if  to  cover  or  protect  the  sacred  emblem  between  them, 
lie  who  refuses  to  see  in  this  portion  of  the  Egyptian  sacred  boat 
the  probable  representation  of  what  Josephus  professes  not  to 
have  knowTi  is  cither  very  bigoted  or  very  dull. 

I  am  inclined  therefore  to  think,  notwithstanding  the  epithet 
which  I  have  suffered  to  remain,  that  the  figures  of  the  Jewish 
cherubs  were  purely  human,  except  in  the  wings  ;  the  more  so 
that  it  is  probable,  that,  had  they  been,  as  Ezekiel  appears  to 
represent  the  cherubim  of  his  vision,  a  multiform  or  many-faced 
creature,  the  -writer  of  Exodus  would  have  thought  it  necessary  to 
BO  particularize  them,  f 

Unreck''d  the  p)'oJiiMtio)i  from  the  Mount — ]     The  walls  of 

*  Females,  representing,  as  already  saicT  after  Wilkinson,  the  goddess  of  Truth 
and  Justice.  It  is  Likely  then,  that  the  "  face  of  a  cherub  "  spoken  of  in  Ezekiel, 
that  is  the  cherubic  visage  proper,  was  that  of  a  woman,  which  may  be  the  rea- 
son why  Josephus  pretends  not  to  know  what  it  or  indeed  what  the  entire  figure 
was. 

t  By  the  by,  the  description  in  Exodus  is,  as  applied  to  the  Tabernacle  of  the 
desert,  either  mere  invention  or  gross  exaggeration.  To  have  gotten  so  much 
gold,  not  to  speak  of  what  was  used  for  the  various  ves.sels,  and  the  altar  and  the 
candlesticks,  the  Israelites  must  have  robbed  the  Egyptians  of  more  than  their 
jewelry.  The  picture  was  probably  designed  by  the  WTiter  (  who  could  not  be 
Moses )  after  the  model  of  the  Temple.  Compare  the  two  descriptions,  Ex.  xxxv", 
rxxvii,  and  1  Kingn  vi  &  vii.  But  even  then,  what  quantity  of  gold  would  it 
take  to  make  two  images  of  human  shape  with  extended  wings,  supposing  the  forais 
to  have  not  been  more  than  four  feet  in  height  ?  And,  admitting  the  quantity 
as  attainable,  how  could  the  ingots  or  mass  have  been  "  beaten,  out  of  one  piece," 
into  the  shape  of  any  living  thing,  e.xcept  perhaps  a  fish,  or  a  crocodile,  or  a  ser- 
pent ?  The  graven  images  of  what  was  not  the  likeness  of  anything  in  heaven 
above,  or  in  the  earth  beneath,  or  in  the  water  nnder  the  earth,  were  probably, 


128  KOTES   TO 


Solomon's  temple  were  covered  all  over,  "within  and  without " 
(1  Kings  vi.  29,)  "  with  carved  figures  of  cherubims"  ;  and  the 
"  sea  of  bronze  "  was  supported  by  twelve  oxen,  the  favorite  wor- 
ship of  Heliopolis.  Yet,  in  a  later  age,  men  got  mad  because  a 
Roman  eagle  was  put  up  on  the  outside  of  Herod's  temple  ;  per- 
haps, because  it  was  a  Roman  eagle,  —  for  Josephus  says  {u.  s.) 
there  were  eagles  [vultures  ?]  as  well  as  huUs  and  lions,  of  graven 
work,  on  the  stands  of  the  lavers.* 

14. — P.  30.     — when  Abr am  saw,  etc.]     Genesis,  xv.  17. 

15. — P.  30.  And  more  profane,  ye  put  the  seal  of  God  On  the 
old  custom  in  Rameses  tavght,  etc.]  Josephus  himself,  who,  with 
all  his  enthusiasm  for  his  people,  and  with  all  that  blindness  of 
national  bigotry  which  makes  him  copy  the  idlest  stories,  as  I 
have  incidentally  already  shown,  and  indulge  in  the  most  extrava- 
gant  and  self-contradictory  exaggeration  in  the  statistical  and 

like  those  made  by  Solomon  (1  Kitigx  vi,)  of  wood  covered  over  with  thin  plates 
or  leaves  of  beaten  gold.  So  we  have  the  calf  of  Aaron  described  as  of  molten 
gold,  although  it  was  presently  burned  in  the  fire  and  reduced  to  powder. 

Josephus,  who  brmgs  down  the  height  of  Solomon's  cherubs  from  ten  to  five 
cubits,  has  the  folly  to  tell  his  heathen  readers  that  they  were  "  of  solid  gold  ", 
adding,  in  a  like  magniloquent  spirit,  "  and,  to  say  all  in  one  word,  he  left  no  part 
of  the  temple,  neither  internal  nor  external,  but  what  was  covered  with  gold." 
Ant.  vin.  iii.  3,  (Whiston.)  See  too  his  account  of  the  golden  vessels  of  all  sorts 
in  Solomon's  temple.  At  all  of  which  marvels  we  need  not  lift  up  our  hands, 
since  we  are  taught,  in  the  sacred  books  he  drew  from,  that  at  the  dedication  of 
that  temple  there  were  sacrificed  22,000  oxen  and  120,000  sheep.  1  Kings, 
viii.  63. 

*  It  may  be  another  reason  why  the  historian  affects  ignorance  of  the  form 
of  the  cherubim,  that  he  was  conscious  that  the  "flying  creatures"  had  a 
look  of  idolatry,  while  the  oxen  and  lions  and  bulls  and  eagles  ( the  Scripture 
says, —  Gk.  Lat.  and  Eng., —  lions,  oxe?i  and  Cherubim ),  however  contrary  to  the 
2d  Commandment,  had  not,  to  those  who  knew  not  or  cared  not  to  remember  their 
origin. 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  129 


descriptive  parts  of  their  history,*  Josephus,  who   evinces   the 
influence  of  contact  with  the  more  cultivated  heathen  nations, 

*  In  Xumbeni,  which  may  perlmps  be  considered  a  genuine  book  of  Moses,  the 
fighting  men  alone  ('-all  that  were  able  to  go  forth  to  war  in  Israel")  are  set 
down  at  603,500 :  chap.  ii.  32.  ( In  the  previous  chap.,  i.  40,  at  003,550 ;  a  dif- 
ference immaterial.)  This  was  in  the  13th  month  after  the  exodus,  and  from  this 
number  the  large  body  of  Levites  ( 8580 :  ib.  iv.  40,  48 )  was  excluded  ( i.  47,  ii. 
33.)  According  to  the  chronology  in  the  margin  of  our  Bibles,  and  to  Josephus 
(  Aiitiq.  II.  XV.,)  the  length  of  the  sojourn  of  the  children  of  Israel  had  been  215 
years ;  but  in  the  Bible  itself  it  is  stated  at  430  years  ( Exod.  xii.  40,  41 ) ;  which  is 
explained  by  counting  from  the  transient  visit  of  Abraham  (  Jos.  ubi  «.),  Jacob's 
grandsire,  who  departed  from  Haran  when  he  was  75  years  old  (  Gen.  xii.  4.) 
But  the  chronology  would  make  him  to  have  consumed  about  3  years  between 
tliat  tune  (B.  C.  1921 )  and  the  time  when  he  left  Egypt  (B.  C.  1918.)  Now, 
Isaac's  birth  occurring  22  yy.  after  Abraham's  return,  Abraham  being  then  100 
yy.  old,  and  Jacob  being  born  when  Isaac  was  00  yy.  old  (  Gen.  xxv.  26,)  it  follows 
that  when  Jacob  was  born  it  was  00  +  22  =:  82  yy.  since  Abraham's  visit  to  Egypt, 
and  Jacob  being  130  ( ib.  xlvii.  9  and  28  )  when  he  went  dorni  to  reside  there  per- 
manently, wo  have,  according  to  the  data  of  Scripture  itself,  130  +  82  =  212  yy. 
to  be  subtracted  from  the  430,  which  would  leave  us  218  as  the  actual  period  of 
the  dwelling  in  Goshen.  (')  A  family  of  70  persons  (  Gen.  xlvi.  26,  27,)  to  have 
multiplied  even  in  that  period  to  such  an  extent  that  603,.500  able-bodied  men 
"  from  20  years  and  upward  "  could  be  collected  out  of  their  aggregate,  is  hardly 
less  wonderful  than  Abraham  and  Isaac's  living  respectively  to  175  and  180  years. 
If  we  allow  that  out  of  every  seven  persons  one  male  is  capable  of  miUtary  ser- 
vice, then  we  should  have,  with  such  a  count,  4,224,500  as  the  population.  Yet 
supposing  a  people  to  double  itself  by  natural  increase  every  20  years,  which  is  an 
exceptionally  large  ratio,  we  should  have  the  increase  for  70  persons  in  220  yy.,  or 
five  years  more  than  the  time  assigned  by  Josephus  and  reckoned  by  chronology, 
only  143,360 ;  and  even  that  would  be  an  unwieldy,  I  may  say  impossible  colony, 
to  march  together,  though  it  were  but  for  ten  years,  or  for  five,  or  for  one  year. 


( 1  )  Yet,  notwithatanding  his  issertion  a>  above  (  Ant.  II.  XT,)  that  there  wore  but  215  jy.  from  the 
time  of  the  settlement  of  Jacob  in  Egypt  to  the  day  of  the  Israelites'  departure  from  that  country,  Josephus 
telU  us  that  the  Divine  Voice  itself  signified  to  Abram,  that  his  posterity  should  suffer  400  yy.  in  Egypt 
before  coming  to  Canaan  to  possrsR  it :  ^oivr?  6tia  trap^v.  anoarif^atvovaa  Trovvpav^  avrov  Toif  c-tyoi-otf 
yttrova^  CTrt  trrj  rtTpTjKocna.  ytVTjaoptfVov^  Kara  tj)v  \tyinTTQV  k.  t.  \.  (  ift.  I.  X.  3.)  And  this 
profane  ascription  of  false  prophecy  to  the  Deity  he  fortifies  by  a  positive  assertion  of  his  own,  that  they 
did  complete  -100  yy.  in  the  oppression  of  servitude  un<lcr  and  in  the  land  of  the  Egyptians  :  Kat  Ttrpaicoatutv 
fjLtv  tTotv  \povov  fm  Tavratz  St,T]vvaau  rate  raXanrajptat^.  (A.  II.  ix.  1,  ed.  Richter.)  It  was  neces- 
sary to  maintain  the  miastatemeut  of  the  holy  writings  at  the  expense  of  homon  coDsistency  and  of  Divine 
iDtegrity. 

6* 


130  NOTES   TO 


does  not  hesitate,  in  speaking  of  the  assertion  of  Herodotus,  that 
the  Jews  ( Syrians  of  Palestine )  took  their  rite  of  circumcision 

especially  through  uninhabited  and  often  sterile  places,  (i)  Now  all  of  these 
603,500  fighting  men  that  came  out  of  Egypt  died  in  the  wilderness  by  the  way, 
all  saving  two,  Caleb  and  Joshua  {Nuni.  xxvi,  64,  65;  Josh.  v.  6.)  Yet,  in  the 
13th  month  after  the  40  years'  wandering,  that  ferocious  leader  Joshua,  —  a  man 
after  Moses'  own  heart,  versed  in  all  his  wiles,  and  practising  with  a  like  impious 
presumption  the  same  monstrous  yet  childish  mummeries,  —  sent  over  the  Jordan 
against  the  small  city  of  Jericho  '*  about  40,000"  men  *' prepared  for  war," 
(  Josephus  says  50,000,)  taken  only  from  Reuben,  Gad,  and  half  of  the  tribe  of 
Manassah  {Josh.  iv.  12,  13;)  the  whole  number  of  those  *' who  were  able  to  go 
to  war  in  Israel,"  as  counted  in  the  plains  of  Moab,  amounting  to  601.730, — there 
being  besides  23,000  Lcvites  "all  male"  {Num.  xxvi.  51,  62);  which  is  more 
than  the  soldiers  of  a  similar  description  (  foot )  assembled  for  his  conquests  by 
Sesosti'is,  the  supposed  successor,  son  or  grandson,  or  great-great-grandson,  of  the 
Pharaoh,  Amenophis,  some  have  said  the  self-same  monarch,  who  made  so  bad  a 
passage  of  the  Red  Sea.  (3) 
The  whole  of  Canaan,  or  Palestine,  estimated  by  the  most  liberal  allowance,  is 

(  '1 )  The  fact  of  their  wandering  (  if  It  was  a  fact  and  not  a  mere  invention,  —  and  observe,  the  40  years 
ere  made  to  correspond  with  the  40  days  that  Moses  is  said  to  have  been  up  in  the  Mount  without  meat  or 
drink,  carving  with  his  own  hands,  in  all  that  time,  what,  with  a  profane  policy,  he  durst  ascribe  to  the 
Blow  fingers  and  plodding  brain  of  the  awful  Lord  of  the  Universe,  Him  whose  shadow  could  not  rest  upon 
the  Mount  which  was  »o  audaciously  feigned  to  contain  His  absolute  pre.>*euce,  (a)  )  —  the  fact  of  their  long 
wandering  in  stony  Arabia,  coasting  the  Red  Sea  and  going  south  before  they  went  upward  to  what  was 
afterward  Judea,  would  show  in  itself  that  they  were  but  a  small  and,  when  occasion  served,  a  predatory 
band,  acquiring  strength  through  numbers  and  by  the  spoil  of  petty  towns,  till  finally  they  were  enabled  to 
make  inroads  into  more  cultivated  regions  and  by  the  merciless  extermination  of  the  original  inhabitants 
provide  themselves  a  permanent  dominion. 

(  3)  Josephus,  whose  national  vanity  makes  hira  claim  for  hia  people  that  they  were  the  sAe^jfterd-Hnf* 
who  conquered  Egypt  according  to  Manelho,  assumes  the  name  TetAmoais,  which  the  latter  assigns  to  the 
monarch  who  drove  them  out  of  Egypt,  as  belonging  to  the  Pharaoh  who  at  a  much  later  period  expelled  the 
Jews  under  Moses,  and  whom  Manetho  calls  Amenophis  :  thus  citing  the  Egyptian  where  his  accounts  suit 
him,  but  accusing  him  of  positive  falsehood  and  perverting  his  language  where  they  do  not.  See  Apion.  I. 
26,  27. 

There  is  much  confusion  aa  to  the  names  and  reigns  of  the  various  sovereigns  of  Egypt,  even  if  we  suppose 
that  any  list  we  have  of  them  is  correct.  Ca.  Anc.  Egyps.  Vol.  I.  pp.  24-62,  comparing  especially  pp.  SI 
and  47.  The  accomplished  author  places  the  Exodus  under  Thothmes  III.  (  Tothmosis.)  Lord  Prudhoe  (ib. 
pp.  eo.  sq.),  under  Pthamenoph  (  Araenoph  or  Amenophis ),  the  last  king  of  the  18th  dynasty  with  Manetho. 

(  o  Wn  like  manner  Menes,  the  earliest  of  the  Egyptian  kings,  feigned  to  have  received  his  books  of  laws 
from  the  god  whom  the  Greeks  after  knew  as  Hermes.  And  so  it  has  been  in  the  primeval  times  of  many 
nations  ;  nor  is  the  blasphemous  practice  wholly  intermitted  dow  :  witness  the  Mormons.  But  the  Jewish 
first  ruler  and  legislator  went  a  step  beyond  any  of  his  predecessors  or  successors,  as  likewise  he  did  an  act 
of  folly  which  I  do  not  remember  to  have  been  perpetrated  by  other  of  these  politic  falsifiers  ;  for  he  broke 
in  a  passion  the  first  tables  without  regard  to  their  Divine  workmanship,  —  and  then  went  up  in  the  hill 
again,  and  after  40  days  more  fasting  got  him  made  a  new  set !     But  he  knew  the  folk  he  had  to  deal  with. 

If  there  is  anything  surprising  in  this  world,  it  is  the  blindness  with  which  men  follow  the  beaten  track, 
the  readiness  or  indilfcrence  with  which  they  give  over  their  reason,  not  in  religion  only,  but  in  ail  things, 
to  prescriptive  teachers,  and  the  reimgnance  they  feel  to  being  shaken  from  the  stupor  in  which  in  certain 
matters  they  have  allowed  to  sink  their  intellect,  and  consequently  their  anger  at  the  efforts  of  those  who 
venture  to  endeavor  to  arouse  them.  The  religious  frauds  of  Moses  are  as  jialpably  deceptions  as  the  tricks 
of  a  conjurer;  yet,  while  pity  ia  felt  for  the  gaping  clown  who  accepts  these  in  unhesitating  faith,  they 
never  ask  themselves  if  they  are  not  aa  dull  in  admiring  the  former.  But  couple  the  miracle  with  Mo- 
hammed, or  make  the  gods  hold  council  ou  Olympus,  and  they  are  wiae  enough. 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  131 

from  the  Egyptians,  to  add,  that  in  such  matters  every  one  should 
be  allowed  to  exiircss  his  owti  opinion  {Ant.  Jud.  VIII.  x.  3.), 

not  200  miles  in  length,  and  not  more  than  80  in  breadth  at  its  widest  part,  nor 
more  tlian  10  or  15  at  the  narrowest ;  and  a  large  part  is  incapable  of  cultivation 
and  even  unfitted  for  habitation.  Yet  we  have  assigned  to  the  people,  not  that 
occupied  this  territory  in  their  palmiest  or  most  populous  day,  but  after  40 
years'  wandering  in  uncultivated  places  to  reach  it,  a  power  to  put  into  the  field, 
to  the  storming  of  a  single  town,  whose  feeble  walls  were  undermined,  or  in  some 
treacherous  way  made  useless,  the  same  number  of  men  that  Bonaparte  carried 
with  him  in  his  attempt  to  achieve  the  conquest  of  Egypt,  and  this  too  out  of  not 
quite  one  fifth  of  their  whole  body.  (<) 

Nearly  five  centuries  later  ( B.  C.  1017),  when  Joab  numbered  the  people  for 
David,  he  made  the  count,  of  "  valiant  men  that  drew  the  sword,"  in  all  1300,000, 
( 2  Sam.  xxiv.  0 ;  Jos.  Ant.  XII.  xiii.  3 ; )  which  elsewhere  is  increased  to 
1570,000,  — Levi  and  Benjamin  coujited  7iot  among  them  (1  Chron.  xxi.  5,  6;  ) 
and  this  notwithstanding  the  exhaustion  of  civil  war  and  repeated  battles  against 
neighboring  nations.  After  such  a  reckoning,  it  is  not  exacting  too  much  of  us 
that  we  should  believe  that  the  three  days'  pestilence,  which  David  accepted  or 
elected  as  an  ex):)iation  for  his  arrogance,  or  irregularity,  in  taking  the  count, 
struck  down  70,000  men  (3  Sam.  xxiv.  12-15),  who,  by  the  way,  had  nothing  to 
do  witli  it.  Cf.  \  Chron.  xxi.  12-17.  and  Josephus  {Ant.  VII.  xiii.),  who  makes 
the  plague  to  have  done  this  prodigious  work  in  half  a  day, — from  the  first  light 
to  the  hour  of  the  midday  meal,  (s) 

Such  Ls  the  kind  of  statistics  which  the  Jewish  historian  is  weak  enough  to 
repeat^  sometimes  diminishing  the  coimt  ( as  in  the  number  of  those  that  perished 
with  Zimri,)  sometimes  increasing  it  (as  above,)  and  whose  puerile  exaggera- 
tion, the  extravagance  of  a  barbarous,  vain  and  boastful  people,  he  continues 
from  later  sources  and  renews  in  other  forms. 

(J  )  Jo»ephus,  1  hare  said,  makes  the  nnmhpr  50,000  (  AnI.  V.  i  ;  )  and  after  telling  us  how  the  rapid  Jordan 
flowed  gently  and  with  diminished  volume  until  the  Hebrews  had  passed  over  and  then  relumed  to  its 
former  size,  and  how  they  presently  reaped  the  rorn  of  the  Canaanitcs  and  took  other  things  without  moles- 
tation, their  former  food,  the  manna,  of  which  they  had  eaten  40  years,  just  then  giving  out,  he  makes  the 
walla  of  Jerieho,  obedient  like  the  river,  to  fall  down  0/  their  own  accord  at  the  seven  times'  blowing  of  the 
seven  saeerdotal  trumpets,  and  the  people  tamely  submit  to  have  their  throats  em,  —  a  righteous  operation 
which  was  performed  upon  every  soul  of  them,  men,  women,  and  children,  —  the  treacherous  harlot  that 
had  let  in  the  spies,  and  her  vile  househoM,  only  excepted.  It  is  in  commenting  on  this  act  of  turjiitude  (  the 
harlot's  )  that  Whislon  justifies  direct  falsehood  on  occasion,  provided  no  oath  has  been  demanded  of  the  liar. 

(5)  AtToXuivro  it,  apfa/4fX'r;c  tu/Sev  T»7C  Xot/*i«»JC  voaov  ^Qeipeiv  auTov^  iaii  djpa';  apiffrov,  fxvpiaSe^ 
i-nra.  .4nt.  J.  VII.  xiii.  3.  This  he  derived  from  Scripture  ,  for  the  Septuagint  has  it,  ..  «ai  f<Sw,ff  Kvpioc 
6<ivaTov  ev  Xopar^X  atro  irpcoidtv  fat^  wpaz  apiarov  \  Rernor.  lib.  II.  In  the  Chronicles,  mention  is  merely 
made  of  the  three  days'  choice  of  the  sword  of  the  Lord  and  death  In  the  land  ;  nothing  of  the  one  day's  exe- 
cution. The  whole  story  is  one  of  those  superstitious  exaggerations  of  a  natural  event  which,  in  aome 
degree  common  to  all  old  histories  of  a  semi-barbarous  age,  are  for  an  obvious  reason  nowhere  BO  plentiful 
and  SO  gross  as  in  the  priest-wrilten  histories  of  the  old  Testament. 


132  NOTES    TO 


■wliich,  however  it  may  be  but  an  affectation  of  liberality,  —  for  it 
is  a  favorite  phrase  of  his  which  with  little  or  no  variety  he  often 
repeats,  as  if  to  deprecate  the  incredulity  of  his  enlightened 
heathen  readers,  —  ia  admitting  a  doubt  of  the  divine  origin 
ascribed  to  the  rite.  See  Herod.  II.  iv.  —  p.  157  t.  i  (  with  Wes- 
seling^s  note,  p.  214t.  iii)  ed.  Schweighreuser,  Lond.  8°.  1834: 
also  Diod.  Sic.  I.  xxviii.  p.  80  ed.  s.  cit. 

It  is  in  fact  the  same  necessity,  which  in  the  Roman  forms  of 
Christianity  made  mingle  with  its  simple  tenets  the  practices  of 
paganism,  that  prescribed  to  Moses  the  observance  of  a  custom 
which  he  would  have  found  it  impossible  to  eradicate,  *  even  if  he 

*  In  the  dissemination  of  all  religions,  it  has  been  found  necessary  to  concede 
Bomething  to  the  prejudices  and  habits  of  the  converts.  The  first  Gregory  or- 
dered, that  as  the  recently  converted  English  had  been  accustomed  in  their  pagan 
rites  to  sacriflce  many  oxen,  they  should  be  permitted  on  certain  days  of  public 
religious  celebration  to  erect  booths  about  the  churches  which  had  once  beea 
heathen  temples  and  observe  the  solemnity  with  their  wonted  festivals,  giving  aa 
his  reason  this  very  necessity  of  concession  ("nam  duris  mentibus  simul  omnia 
abscindere,  impossibile  esse  non  dubium  est,  etc." ),  and  citing  as  a  precedent  the 
commands  of  Jehovah  to  the  Israelites,  whereby  the  sacrifices  ichich  in  Egypt 
they  loere  wont  to  make  to  the  devil  should  be  converted  to  His  own  worship. 
GSEG.  Mellito  Abbati  Epist.  (  S.  Greq.  Epist.  lib.  ix.  71.  )  ap.  Mansi  t.  x.  p.  307. 
It  ia  also  found  in  Spelman  :  Concilia,  Decreta,  &c.  &c.  i7i  re  Eccles.  Orb. 
Britann.  ( Lond.  in  fol.  1639  )  t.  i.  p.  89 ;  and  an  extract,  partially  as  above,  in 
MURATORr.  Anecd.  Grcec.  ( Patav.  4to.  1709 )  p.  256. 

So,  in  the  16th  century,  the  Jesuits  conceded  to  the  Chinese  the  adoration  of 
their  ancestors  and  of  Confucius.  And  in  our  own  day,  the  missionaries  in  China 
have  displayed  the  same  accommodating  spirit.  In  their  translation  of  the  Bible, 
Adam's  sin  is  not  mentioned,  and  the  Ten  Commandments  begin  with  the  IVth, 
while  opium-smoking  is  with  an  vmderhand  morality  adroitly  smuggled  into  the 
prohibition  of  adultery.  I  state  this  on  the  authority  of  the  Allgeineine  Zeitung 
(Aug.  11,  1853),  which  derived  the  information  from  an  article  (I  think)  in  the 
London  Times,  (i)    The  conjectural  reason  which  is  assigned  in  the  Zeitung  for 

(1)  The  greater  part  of  this  note,  as  also  oTsome  others  of  the  numher.  is  taken  from  the  notes  to  an 
untinished  Sltetch  of  the  History  of  the  Church,  preliminary  to  a  Life  of  Hua,  which  I  was  busy  with  In 
that  year  in  Munich,  and  expected  to  be  able  soon  after  to  publish.     Hence  the  remote  date. 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  133 


did  not  himself  believe  it  useful,  or  if,  rather,  he  did  not  himself, 
boi'ii  to  the  7)iaiinej%  never  dream  of  questioning  its  vitility.* 

Barnabas,  in  that  odd  Epistle  which  is  ascribed  to  him,  seems 
to  say  (  for  it  is  not  always  easy  to  sec  what  he  would  say )  that  it 

the  precedence  given  to  the  IVth  Commanclment  is  the  love  of  the  Chinese  for 
their  parents.  If  the  1st,  lid,  and  Hid  laws  of  the  Table  have  only  shifted  their 
places  in  the  missionaries'  version,  this  may  well  be ;  but  if  they  are  excluded 
altogether,  I  should  assign  a  very  different  reason.  The  household  gods  of  the 
Chinese  are  probably  as  obstinate  as  those  of  the  Romans  ( when,  in  the  strife  of 
Image-worship,  the  Popes,  lending  themselves  to  the  idolatry  of  their  quasi-sub- 
jects,  hastened  to  seize  the  long-coveted  occasion  for  founding  an  independent 
dominion,)  and  if  the  Garden  of  Eden  was  omitted,  the  six-days'  labor  would  go 
with  it,  in  compliment  to  the  pre-Adamite  antiquity  of  the  Floioery  Nation. 

*  Philo,  who  seems  to  have  been  moved  to  the  disous.sion  of  its  propriety  and 
utility  by  the  ridicule  attached  to  it  by  the  enlightened  heathen,  (  v.  de  Circinncis. 
ad  init.,  —  where  he  .speaks  of  the  rite  as  held  in  especial  honor  by  the  Egyptians,) 
assigns  as  a  chief  reason  for  not  departing  from  the  usage  its  prophylactic  ser- 
vice :  \aXeir-i\i;  vo<tov  koi  ivaiarov  iraOov^  aTraWayrjv,  rjv  avBpaxa  [carbuncle] 
(coAovaif.  (iTi.  Op.  ed.  Mangey  t.  ii.  p.  211.  Lond.  1742.)  This  is  as  if  the  shav- 
ing of  the  scalp,  which  was  also  an  Egyptian  custom,  should  be  advocated  for  a 
whole  nation  because  with  the  uncleanly  the  hair  is  liable  to  vermin. 

See  in  Joshua  Chap.  V.  vv.  4-7 ;  where  it  is  said,  that  after  the  coming  out 
from  Egjirt  there  were  no  more  circumcised  for  all  the  forty  years  that  they 
remained  unsettled ;  at  the  end  of  which  time  the  rite  was  re-ordered.  From 
which  it  follows,  that  the  Jews  who  were  both  by  birth  and  habitation  Egyptian 
had  undergone  the  mutilation,  but  the  new  race,  wanderers  that  were  getting 
themselves  a  new  home  in  Canaan  by  exterminating,  as  I  have  before  said,  root 
and  branch  ( according  to  their  own  story,  but  not  according  to  the  collateral  facts 
to  be  gathered  from  that  story,)  the  proper  owners,  went,  for  nearly  two  genera- 
tions, without  it.  What  then  becomes  of  the  command  to  Abraham  ;  and  of  the 
penalty  denounced  for  its  infraction  ?  (  Gen.  xvii,  14.)  The  reply  is  obvious ; 
and  the  remark  might  follow,  that,  since  they  found  no  inconvenience  from  its 
suspension,  it  is  a  pity  and  a  wonder  that  those,  who  diverged  so  much  in  other 
things  from  the  people  they  had  separated  or  been  separated  from,  had  not  the 
decency  and  good  sense  to  drop  it  altogether.  But  in  Josh.  v.  9  we  have  :  "  And 
the  Lord  said  unto  Joshua,  This  day  have  I  rolled  away  the  reproach  of  Egypt 
from  off  you".  .  .  and  a  commentator  (  Herries' B.  ad  loc.)  tells  us:  "By  the 
reproach  of  Egj'pt  is  meant  uncircumcision  with  which  the  Israelites  were  wont 


134  NOTES   TO 


was  a  bad  angel  that  taught  the  Jews  the  circumcision,  wMcJi  was 

not  meant  to  be  of  the  flesh  :    aWa  Trupeffrirray,  on  ayycXos    TTOi/ripoi  (CTO(pi- 

at  avTov;.  He  then  denies  that  it  was  meant  for  a  sign  to  Abraham, 
because  every  Syrian,  and  Arabian*  and  all  the  priests  of  the 

to  upbraid  other  people,  and  particularly  the  Egyptians."  (i)  This  in  face  of 
the  known  facts,  and  indeed  of  the  Bible  itself :  for  in  Jeremiah,  ix,  25,  we  have 
Egypt,  Judah,  and  Edom  classed  together  as  of  the  circumcision :  —  "  ut  ani- 
madvertam  in  onines  qui  circumciso  sunt  proeputio,  in  yEgyptos,  in  Judasos,  in 
Idumaeos,  in  Ammonitas,  in  Moabitas."  Ex  Seb.  Castell.  interp.  Our  English 
version  of  the  place  is  obscure  and  involved,  and  gives  a  sense  contrary  to  what 
is  conveyed  in  the  Latin,  and  also  in  the  Greek ;  the  close  of  which  latter  version 
however  seems  to  contradict  the  first  part ;  and  observe  the  distinction  between 
Edom  and  Idumea  :  Sehold  the  days  come,  saith  the  Lord,  and  I  icill  bring  the 
visitation  ofiornth  ^ipon  all  that  are  cut  around  in  their  foreskin ;  upon  Egypt, 
and  upon  Iditmcea  [  Judiea  ?  ],  and  xipon  Edom,  and  tcpon  the  sons  of  Amman, 
and  upon  the  sons  of  Mnab,  and  upon  every  one  icho  is  shaved  ahmit  his  visage,  the 
dwellers  in  the  desert ;  because  all  the  7iations  are  uncircumclsed  in  flesh,  and  the 
whole  house  of  Israel  are  uncircumcised  in  their  hearts. —    Cf.  Deut.  xxiii.  7,  8. 

*  See  Exod.  iv.  25,  from  which  it  would  appear  that  Moses  himself  was  not  at 
first,  if  ever,  in  favor  of  circumcision,  for  he  had  neglected  the  act  for  his  own 
son,  and  the  mother,  a  woman  of  Midian  and  daughter  of  a  Midianitish  priest, — 
of  the  very  people  therefore  with  whom  Moses,  at  a  later  day,  interdicted  sexual 
union  (  Num.  xxv  ),  although  afterward,  when  he  had  ordered  them  to  be  exter- 
minated, he  reserved  all  the  virgins  (  32,000  ! )  expressly  for  that  nnion  ( ib. 
xxxi ), —  and  the  mother,  a  woman  of  Midian  and  daughter  of  a  priest  of  Midian 
(  observe  that ),  did  it  angrily  for  him.  Indeed  nowhere  does  Moses  prescribe  the 
rite,  and  during  the  whole  time  of  his  ministration  or  government,  as  I  have  just 
shown  from  Joshua,  it  was  entirely  neglected.  So  that  we  should  have  a  fair 
right  to  suppose,  that  it  was  only  when  the  Israelites  came  into  contact  with  the 
people  of  Arabia  who  practised  it,  that  it  was  again  thought  of ;  or,  what  is  not 
improbable,  that,  having  by  neglect  of  proper  cleanliness,  easy  to  occur,  if  not 
unavoidable,  in  their  wandering  and  in  such  a  country,  got,  very  many  of  them, 
into  a  condition  that  suggested  the  preventive  means  that  were  in  use  in  Egypt, 
they  had  clamored  for  the  revival  of  the  old  rite  which  Moses  had  purposely  dis- 
carded, and  Joshua  was  obliged  to  accede.     Mohammed,  who  accorduig  to  the 

(  1 )  Whether  wilfully  or  ignorantly,  thia  is  a  palpable  perversion  of  the  meaning  of  the  text.  Wilkinaon 
givcB  the  proper  sense  (A.  E.  -r.  318  ) ;  viz.  that  it  was  the  Egyptians  who  considered  it  a  reproach  to  be  a« 
the  foreigners  {  Gentiles  )  whom  they,  lilie  their  Jewish  kinsmen,  derided  and  hated. 


THE    NEAV    CALVATIY  135 


idoU  —  and  the  Egyptians  also^  are  of  the  ciroimcmon.  Ep. 
Catholica:  g  ix.  {Pair.  Apost.  Ep.  ed.  Reithmayr.  pp.  146,8.) 
I  pay  no  regard  to  this  epistle,  which  the  Catholics  themselves 
consider  rather  unworthy  of  the  earliest  writer  after  the  Apostles, 
but  cite  it  to  show  tliat  it  is  not  particularly  heathen  to  maintain 
so  very  ob%'ious  a  fact. 

Indeed,  the  discussion  of  this  subject  may  be  narrowed  to  a 
single  question.  Were  the  Jews  origuially  a  portion  of  the  Egyp- 
tian people,  migrating,  or,  as  has  been  said  with  some  plausibility, 
driven  from  Egyi^t  because  of  leprosy ;  or  were  they,  as  them- 
selves maintain,  a  distinct  race  which  had  settled  among  that 
people  ?     If  the  f omier,  *  argument  is  unnecessary  :  but,  assum- 

Mussulman  hagiologists  came  into  the  world  already  peritomizod,  or  w-ithout  the 
dermal  prolongation  that  would  admit  of  the  rite,  gave  himself,  like  his  quasi- 
prototype  Moses,  no  pains  about  it,  but  let  the  old-time  custom  take  its  course,  to 
fall  into  disuse,  or  be,  as  it  was,  continued,  —  precisely  as,  like  Moses,  he  made 
certain  forms  and  superstitions  of  the  old  idolatry,  which  he  never  could  have 
changed  or  rooted  out,  become  a  part  of  the  new  worship,  and,  by  presciibing 
them  himself,  incorporated  as  ritual  what  otherwise  would  have  been  outside  and 
antagonistic  to  his  religion. 

*  Diodorus  ( where  before  cited )  implies  that  they  were  colonists  of  Egypt. 
Josephus  calls  the  Egyptians,  directly,  the  "kinsmen"  of  the  Jews.  (  (7.  Ap.  I. 
11.  — p.  543  Whiston  II.)  Was  this  because  when  in  Egypt  the  latter  had  inter- 
married with  the  Gentile  after  the  e.xample  of  Joseph  ?  It  they  were  a  separate 
people,  that  could  hardly  be,  because  by  their  own  showing,  being  shepherds, 
they  were  a  vile  and  detested  race  at  the  very  first,  having  but  one  class  under 
them  more  contemptible,  the  swineherds.  (  ' )  The  relationship  may  be  directly 
traced,  not  only  in  the  physical  characteristics  of  the  modern  Copts,  as  given  by 
Denon,  but  in  all  the  monuments.     See  everywhere  the  prints  in  Wilkinson,  where 

(1)  ^Vhat  the  herd  of  COno  swinp  were  (1r>ing  in  Oadarn,  when  the  Jews,  having  abandoned  idolatry,  did 
not  even  once  a  year  roast  a  pig  lilte  their  Fgyptian  Itinamen,  it  would  be  hard  to  say.  Perhaps  they  were 
employed,  as  -we  are  tol.l  tliey  were  by  the  latter  people,  in  purposes  of  agriculture  ;  to  tread  in  the  seeds,  it 
is  said  (  Hb-'Ron.  Buter.),  —  thougli  I  should  rather  suppose,  in  preparing  the  ground  and  saving  the  use  of 
the  plough  ;  for  torn  a  few  hogs  into  a  field,  and  in  a  short  time,  by  their  instinctive  habit  of  rooting,  they 
will  put  it  into  a  state  that  could  not  he  told  at  a  little  distance  from  that  made  by  light  ploughing.  But 
when  the  devils  asked  to  be  sent  into  the  swine,  it  must  be  admitted  that  they  knew  their  ancient  home ; 
for  the  Egyptians  believed  that  the  souls  of  the  wicked,  on  returning  to  this  world,  entered  the  bodies  of 
pigs,  —  «  natural  metempsychosis,  at  least  for  the  groveling  and  sensual,  like  the  transformations  of  Circe. 


136  KOTES    TO 


ing  their  own  statements  to  be  reliable,  then  they  were  in  a  state 
of  vassalage  or  even  servile  subjection  to  the  Egj'ptians,  and  were 
comparatively  few  in  number.  Now  would  the  servants  have 
given  this  rite  to  the  masters,  or  the  masters  to  the  servants  ? 
who  probably  would  have  been  compelled  to  adopt  it,  even  if  they 
did  not,  under  the  circumstances,  willingly,  and  by  imitation  of 
their  betters.*  And  observe,  according  to  their  historian,  they 
were  for  over  two  centuries  domesticated  with  the  Egyptians,  a 
time  certainly  sufficient  to  destroy  all  peculiarities  of  their  own 
race  ( being  not  then  prohibited  from  mixing  with  the  surrounding 
people,  so  far  as  it  was  feasible  in  their  condition, )  and  to  make 
them  in  religion  as  in  ordinary  customs  perfectly  identical.  So 
we  see  that  their  first  act  after  the  exodus  was  to  set  up  an  image 
of  Mnevis  ( the  ox  worshiped  at  Heliopolis :  Plut.  Is.  et  Os.  p. 
437  t.  vii.  ed.  Reiske;  Euseb.  Pro'p.  iii.  xiii.  iiiit.,)  and  that 
most  of  the  ceremonies  of  the  Egyptian  priests,  as  well  as  much 

the  profiled  features  of  men  and  women  are  with  rare  exceptions  such  as  are 
characteristic  of  the  modern  Jews  when  comeliest,  and  particularly  while  yet  in 
childhood.  The  nose  with  the  extremity  curving  under  and  the  heavy  lips  are 
not  to  be  mistaken.  There  is  however  in  the  same  work,  at  p.  296  of  vol.  ii,  a 
plate  representing  the  arrival  of  strangers  in  the  country,  which  those  who  wish 
to  believe  the  Mosaic  history  conjecture  to  represent  the  caravan  of  Jacob,  not- 
withstanding the  absence  of  vehicles  ( see  Gen.  xlv.  in,  21 ),  that  there  is  no  old 
man,  and  that  they  are  named  in  the  inscription  as  captives  and  numbered  as  but 
thirty-seven.  The  profile  faces  are  certainly  more  Jewish  than  those  of  the  na- 
tives, but  they  are  merely  contemptuous  exaggerations  of  the  same  type  ;  nor  is 
it  to  be  supix)sed  that  the  artist  took  portraits  for  such  a  subject.  If  he  did,  when 
there  is  no  evidence  that  it  was  done  even  in  the  case  of  the  kings,  the  faces 
would  still  present  a  strong  proof  of  the  consanguinity  of  the  two  races. 

*  The  explorations  of  modern  travelers  have  shown  that  the  existence  of  the 
rite  in  Egypt,  at  a  time  long  anterior  to  the  arrival  there  of  Joseph,  is  plainly 
demonstrated  on  the  monuments.  Cs.  Ajic.  Egijp.i.  V.  318.  This  might  settle  the 
question  without  argument.  But  probably  the  answer  would  be,  with  those  who 
are  determined  to  believe  the  Jews,  that  Abraham  taught  it  to  the  Egyptians,  as 
he  did  astronomy  and  the  differential  calculus. 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  137 


of  their  costume,  and  the  pomp  of  their  religious  service,  were 
made  compulsory  by  their  leader,  who  forgot  not  even  to  sep- 
arate the  animals  into  clean  and  unclean  according  to  the  mode 
of  Egypt,  where  the  hog,  as  Justin  says,  or  whoever  writes  in 
that  name  (  Qumt.  etc.  ad  Orthod.  102.  Op.  T.  III.  P.  ii.  p. 
50.  ed.  Otto.  Jenaj  8".  184G),  was  then  the  only  animal  that  was 
denied  divine  honors,  and,  Herodotus  relates  ( II.  47 ),  was  so 
abhorred  by  the  Egj-ptiaus,  that,  if  it  happened  to  touch  their 
garments  merely,  they  went  to  the  river  to  wash. 

16. — P.  33.  — and  icho  makes  not  moi'e^  7/",  etc.]  I  neglected 
to  make  a  memorandum  of  the  passage  of  Scripture  here  alluded 
to.  But,  in  himting  for  it,  I  find  in  Smmiel—l.  ch.  vi.  19, — 
that  50,070  men  were  killed  because  some  of  them  had  looked 
( all  could  not )  into  the  Ark  :  a  story  of  like  import,  although  not 
directly  elucidative.  To  cull  plenty  of  such  childish  tales,  which 
if  not  credited  are  absurd  and  if  credited  are  pernicious,  one  has 
not  to  search  a  great  way  in  that  painful  record  of  profane  assum})- 
tion,  inhumanity,  and  falsehood,  which  makes  up  so  large  a  part 
of  the  semi-fabulous  historical  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  and 
which,  with  its  many  indirect  lesisons  of  perfidy,  deceit  and  cun- 
ning, mars  or  even  neutralizes  so  much  elsewhere  in  its  pages  that 
is  precious  in  ^dsdom,  useful  in  morality,  and  beautiful  and  con- 
solatory in  religion.* 

*  The  most  useful  perhaps,  as  well  as  most  elevating,  of  all  books,  woukl  be  the 
Bible,  were  It  carefully  and  largely  expurgated  ;  but,  as  it  is,  it  is  one  of  the  most 
hurtful  to  the  general  or  vulgar  mind,  —  which  finds  therein  the  sanction  of 
example,  if  not  of  actual  precept,  for  all  its  most  vicious  or  most  degrading  pro- 
pensities. If  we  must  have  an  unexpurgated  Bible,  it  should  at  least  be  free 
from  all  such  comments  as  seek  to  justify  every  crime  of  the  patriarchs,  great 
leaders  and  other  holy  persons,  by  Divine  commandment.  We  have  seen  how  far 
this  sort  of  casuistry  ( to  me  blasphemous)  has  carried  the  English  translator  of 
Josephus.     Yet  that  book  is  in  many  famUies  a  sort  of  companion  for  the  danger- 


138  NOTES   TO 

17. — P.  37.  They  did  idth  the  tmter-hubhle ^  icJien  etc.]  Pi- 
late alludes  to  the  tumult  caused  by  his  taking  the  sacred  treasure 
to  defray  the  cost  of  introducing  water  into  Jerusalem.  See  note 
l.in  Calvary :  Yol.  i.  p.  77. 

18. — P.  44.  — Mizraim — ]  Egypt:  supposed  to  be  so  called 
from  Mizraim,  Misraim,  or  Mesraim,  who  is  the  second  named 
among  the  sons  of  Cham  or  Ham.  See  Qcfti.  x.  6,  and  compare, 
in  the  English  version,  Gen.  1.  11. 

"IVIizraim,  the  second  son  of  Ham,  is  the  same  who  is  called 
Misor  by  Sanchoniatho  and  Menes  by  Herodotus ;  and  Egypt  was 
the  nation  peopled  by  his  descendants.  Indeed,  the  name  Mizraim 
applies  in  all  respects  to  Egypt ;  for  it  signifies  straitness  or  con- 
finement. Now  Egypt  is  one  of  the  most  confined  countries  in 
the  world.  Etc.''''  Herries' Bible  :  Expos.  Notes  to  IL  Gen. —  If 
this  explanation  is  correct  ( it  appears  to  be  given  from  Skald's 
Travels),  what  becomes  of  the  derivation  from  the  name  of  the 
son  of  Cham  ?  It  would  follow  rather,  that  the  name  was 
invented  for  that  putative  founder  from  the  word  which  described 
the  peculiar  shape  of  the  country.  However,  from  either  word, 
but  more  directly  from  Misor,  we  may  deduce  the  Misr  which  has 
long  been  the  well-known  Arabic  name  for  Cairo,  and  for  Egypt 
itself.  But  with  the  old  Egyptians  Chemi,  or  Khcmi,  from  Chem, 
Cham,  or  Khem,  was  the  designation  of  the  whole  coimtry. 

With  either  name,  and  with  either  derivation,  we  have  another 

oils  and  often  inrlecent  records  of  the  Old  Testament.  Are  our  children  never  to 
be  taught  truth  ?  Is  religion  to  be  made  to  sanctify  impiety  ?  and  are  fraud  and 
meanness,  treachery  and  ferocious  inhumanity,  to  be  set  before  their  inexpe- 
rienced minds,  not  only  without  counter  admonition,  but  with  positive  justifica- 
tion ?  We  have  laid  aside  the  Wisdom  of  ike  Son  of  Sirach  because  it  is  not 
canonical,  and  none  of  our  Bibles  have  it  save  those  larger  ones  which  contain  the 
Apocryi^ha,  — yet  what  noble  lessons  are  there  given  ( a  few  that  savor  of  Eastern 
cunning  excepted  ),  and  how  beautiful  yet  solemn  is  the  opening  ! 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  139 


ai^Timent  for  the  Egyptian  origin  of  tlie  f abulons  tradition  of  Noah 
and  his  family,  —  if  it  was  a  tradition,  and  not  the  invention  of 
some  speculative  intellect  which  sought  to  fill  up  the  historical 
blank  of  a  barbai-ous  and  long-forgotten  age.  But  tradition  or 
invention,  the  Egj-ptians  did  not  get  it  from  Abraham.  * 

19. — P.  45.  — Mestre — ]  Josephus  says  that  all  of  his  coun- 
trymen call  Egypt  Mcistre  and  its  people  Mentreans.  Ant.  I.  vi.  3. 
The  reason  is  involved  in  the  preceding  note. 

20.— P.  GO.  Thus,  see  ye  to  it,  After  my  death  that  none, 
etc.]  f  The  great  schism  in  the  Chxirch  which  Paul  and  his 
brother  apostles  endeavored  to  prevent  took  place  at  last  through 
the  perversity  of  the  Jews.  Their  party  split  into  several  sects, 
of  which  two  were  prominent.  The  one  of  these  which  retained 
the  name  of  Nazareans  acknowledged  the  divinity  of  Christ,  and 
its  members  were  distinguished  from  the  more  Uberal  Christiana 
merely  by  their  fanatical  adherence  to  the  prejudices  of  their 
forefathers.  The  other  is  that  of  the  Ebionites,  a  name  which 
according  to  some  writers  is  derived  from  their  foimder,  Ehion  : 
but  according  to  others  jt  comes  from  the  Hebrew  word  signifying 
poor,  afflicted.  Eusebius  and  Origen  were  of  this  opinion,  though 
they  differ  as  to  the  application  of  the  epithet ;  and  the  sect 

*  Wilkinson  says  that  the  Hebrew  word  JIam  is  properly  \vritten  Khni,  Kham, 
or  Khem,  and  is  thus  the  same  as  the  Egyptian  Khem :  that  the  name  ^fl~.ra^m, 
with  its  plural  termination,  seems  to  refer  to  the  two  divisions,  Upper  and  Lower, 
of  Egypt.  "It  is,  however,  remarkable  that  the  word  itself  does  not  occur  in 
liieroglyphics,  though  traced  in  the  modem  name  Musr  or  Misr,  by  which  both 
Cairo  and  Egypt  are  known  at  this  day."  Further:  "Ham  or  Khem  may  have 
been  the  original  name  of  that  tribe  which  settled  in  the  two  districts  called 
Mizraim ;  and  the  Egyptians  may  have  retained  the  appellation  which  they  had 
as  conquerors,  in  preference  to  tliat  of  the  country  they  occupied."  Anc.  Em/ps, 
iv.  261,  2.     See  too,  ib.  i.  pp.  2,  3. 

t  from  the  Ms.  mentioned  at  foot  of  p.  132. 


140  NOTES   TO 


themselves  may  be  aUowed  a  voice  in  the  matter,  who  by  the 
testimony  of  Epiphanius  derived  the  term  from  their  profession 
of  poverty,  maintaining  they  were  the  successors  of  those  who 
in  the  time  of  the  Apostles  sold  their  goods  to  take  up  the  Cross 
of  the  Lord.* 

The  Ebionites  stand  before  us  in  the  pages  of  ecclesiastical  his- 
tory as  the  iirst  distinct  body  of  Christians  professing  Unitarian- 
ism.  Catholic  writers  love  to  point  to  the  language  imputed  to 
Clement  the  Roman  as  evidence  that  the  dogma  of  the  Trinity 
began  to  obtain  in  the  fold  of  St.  Peter  so  early  as  the  end  of  the 
1st  century.  Yet  he  merely  mentions  the  two  chief  persons  of 
the  Godhead  in  rhetorical  connection  with  the  spirit  of  heavenly 
grace  or  love.f     On  the  other  hand,  it  is  maintained  .that  the 

*  In  tlie  Liber  de  SiUi  et  Nominib.  Locor.  Hebr.,  Jerom  asserts  that  they  de- 
rived their  name  from  their  leader  :  "  Et  a  principe  hsereseos  E/Siwj'iTat  nmicu- 
pantiu-."  (Tertiillian  was  of  the  same  opinion.)  It  is  against  their  dogmas,  he 
adds,  that  Paul  writes  to  the  Galatians.  Op.  t.  ii.  p.  427,  ed.  Martianay  ;  Paris. 
1C9!).  in  fol.  Neander  (  AUg.  Gesch.  der  Chriatl.  Relio.  u.  Klrche  :  V  Abth.  2" 
Bd'.,  ss.  596-8.  2=  Aufl.  Hamb. )  considers  the  name,  and  probably  with  justice, 
as  used  in  its  literal  sense,  and  originally  applied  in  disparagement,  because  of  the 
poverty  of  the  class  of  men  of  whom  the  early  Cln-istians  were  mostly  composed ; 
and,  of  coiu-se  therefore,  at  first,  applied  to  all. 

t  Clement,  who  was  Bishop  of  Rome  in  the  last  ten  years  of  the  1st  century, 
was  the  disciple  of  Peter  and  Paul,  and  is  the  earliest  of  the  Fatliers  after  Barna- 
bas. Only  two  of  the  Epistles  of  Clement  remain.  They  are  addressed  to  the 
Church  of  Corinth.  One  of  them  which  is  merely  a  fragment  is  allowed  to  be 
questionable,  while  the  other  which  is  considered  genuine  is  the  one  in  which 
occurs  the  supposed  mention  of  the  three  persons  of  the  Trinity.  "  Why,  breth- 
ren," he  asks,  "  should  you  suffer  schism  and  strife  to  be  amongst  you  ?  Have  we 
not  one  God,  and  one  Christ,  and  one  spirit  of  divine  grace  which  is  effused  upon 
us?  .  .  .  .  ovxt  ^va.  Oeov  ^xafx-ev,  ko-i  kva.  Xpterrov,  koi  ei'  7rv€u/ia  rrjs  xa.pi.to<;  to 
€Kxv6iv  £(f)'  rj/iias ;  .  .  S.  Clem.  ad  Cor.  p.  78  ed.  Reithmayr  ( Monachi  18°. 
1844. )  And  it  is  in  this  simple  passage,  bald  as  to  all  dogmatical  inference  and 
pretension,  that  the  Catholics  affect  to  see  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  !  A  Uni- 
tarian would  find  rather  conclusion  for  his  own  creed ;  and  liis  position  would, 
from  such  a  passage,  be  the  stronger  of  the  two. 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  141 


Ebionitish   was    the   prevalent   faith   of    the    Church   of    Rome 
for  the  whole   of    the  two  first  centuries.*     The  language  as- 

*  The  Ebionites  maintained  tliat  under  all  the  Roman  bishops  down  to  the  13th 
( Victor ),  their  dogma  of  the  simple  humanity  of  Christ,  Inspired  not  otherwise 
than  as  the  Prophets  of  the  Old  Testament,  prevailed,  and  of  all  the  church- 
fathei-s  that  are  adduced  by  name  ( ap.  Euscb.  v.  28  )  against  this  assertion,  not 
one  is  foimd  that  is  claimed  with  any  certiiinty  by  the  Romish  community. 
Hence,  and  on  other  grounds,  Gfrorer  considers  that  Artemon,  the  head  of  the 
Ebionites,  maintained  but  the  simple  truth ;  in  other  words,  t/iai  in  the  course 
of  the  %1  century,  the  Jewis/t- Christian  view  of  the  nature  of  Je-ius  predominated 
in  the  Romish  church.  Allg.  Kircheng.  ut  s.  1^.  B.  s.  255,  f.  — adding  thereto  the 
two  preceduig  pages,  especially  in  reference  to  the  "  Shepherd"  (Pastoris  Liber  ) 
of  Hermas.  —  Cf  Ncander,  ti.  «.,  p.  906 ;  who  acknowledges,  with  regret,  the 
want  of  historical  data  to  decide  on  the  question  of  time  ( i.  e.  that  it  was  only 
with  Zephyrinus,  Victor's  successor,  that  mystification  of  the  Apostolic  doctrine 
began,  —  as  alleged  by  the  Artemoiiites :  )  pp.  999-1002.  (i) 

(1)  The  curious  reader  may  consult  the  fcllowing  ancient  church-writers  : 

CLEMENS  ROMANt;s  (  c.  A.  C.  G8  } :  Ad  Corinthioa  Epiat,  II,  Cc.  vti,  xvi,  xxi,  xxii,  xxiv,  xxxvi,  xlil,  xlix* 
Iviii. 

Hermas  (  a.  C.  70 ) :  Pastoris  tic.  Visiones  ;  Mandatum  Im. :  et  Similit.  9«.  (  "  Filius  qniilem  Dei  omnl 
creatura  antiquior  eel,  ita  ut  consillo  patri  suo  fuerit,  condere  creaturam,  etc.*'  fdl.  14  recto,  ed.  Fal)ri, 
Paris.  1513  i  p.  100  in  Galland.  BihI.  Vet.  PP.  t.  [.)  A  charming  hooli,  which  is  but  lillle  known  except  to 
thcologiral  scholars.  II  is  imputed  lo  Hermas  a  disciple  of  Paul  (  Epist.  Rom.  xvi.  14  ),  and  is  assigned,  as 
marked  above,  to  the  Y.  "0.  Among  the  more  ancient  Fathers  it  w.as  held  as  canonical,  and  in  ancient 
copies  of  the  S.  S.  it  is  added  to  the  books  of  the  New  Testament.  By  more  recent  church-writers,  Alha- 
nasius,  e.  p.,  Jerom,  and  Rufinus,  it  is  ranked  among  such  writings  as  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  and  of  the 
Son  of  Siraeh,  vtith  Judith.  Tobit,  Esther,  and  the  Maccabees,  or  with  the  still  more  apocrypha!  book  of 
Enoch.  Cf.  Oalland.  Proleg.  de  S.  Herma,  c.  ii  (  Bibl.  &c.  t.  i.  p.  xxvii  );  or  the  Epjst.  of  Jac.  Faber,  pre- 
fixed to  his  ed.  ;  or,  if  the  reader  would  have  the  collected  testimony  of  the  ancients,  on  both  sides,  Galland. 
/.  e.  61  sqq.  It  is  not  merely  a  lery  useful  book  (  Athan.  de  Incarv.  t.  i.  p.  49.  Op.  Paris,  in  fol.  1698 )  for  its 
moral  precepts,  bat  well  deserving  to  be  read  for  its  simplicity  of  style,  not  devoid  of  native  grace,  and  its 
fancy.  I  could  suppose  it  might  have  furnished  the  remotely  suggestive  idea,  through  which  occurred  to 
Dante  his  first  thoughl  of  the  Divine  Comedy.  See,  in  addition  to  the  v;hole  texture  of  the  book,  the  pas- 
sage where  the  Shepherd  lolls  Hermas,  that  the  Apostles  and  Teachers  of  the  Son  of  God  descended  living 
"  into  the  water  '*  to  those  just  men  who  had  died  before  the  coming  of  the  Lord,  or,  as  Clem.  Alex,  has  it 
(  Stromal.  I.  ix, ).  e*en  before  the  Lair,  as  Abet,  Noah,  et  at.,  and  were  their  teachers :  "  Descenderunt 
Igilur,  etc."     Simil.  li. 

I<;nat.  ad  Mamesianos  §13,  (  Patr.  Apost.  Episl.  ed.  Ileithm.  supra  cit.  p.  222);  and  the  circular  letter 
of  the  Church  of  Smyrna  relating  lo  the  martyrdom  of  Polyearp,  end  of  §19,  ( ib.  p.  364.) 

With  regard  lo  the  imputed  Ebionitism  of  Hegesippus  (  supposed  to  have  been  born  about  the  commence- 
mei.t  of  the  2d  Cy.  ),  Galland.  Dibl.  V.  PP.  —  Prolegomena,  c.  il:  p.  vii.  t.  II.  Vencliis  17(16. 

In  the  same  volume  of  the  same  collection,  the  unseemly  comparison  —  "  prasclara  comparatio,  ••  as  the 
editor  chooses  to  consider  it— of  the  Athenian  Athcnagoras  (said  to  have  been  Ihe  teacher  of  Clemens 
Alex. )  in  his  Leeatio,  or  Apologia  pro  Christianis,  where  hv-  assimilates  the  two  Emperors,  M.  Aurelius  and 
L.  Verus  {  A .  C.  1G6  ICtt  )  or  the  Emperor  M.  Aurelius  and  his  son  Commodus  (  A.  C.  177  )  to  the  Father  and 
Eon  of  the  Godhead. 

In  the  2d  volume  of  the  same,  the  F.pistlea  and  Homilies  which  claim  to  have  been  written  by  Clement 
the  Roman  an<l  go  under  the  general  name  of  "  Clementina.  "  Their  antiquity  is  evident,  for  they  are  on 
two  occasions  cited  by  Origen.  They  are  supposed  to  have  been  written  about  the  Y.  170,  or  even  so  late 
as  Y.  220.  The  monotheism  or  Ebiontem  of  the  writer  is  obvious  throughout,  and  is  very  generally  admitted. 
However,  for  a  contrary  opinion,  cs.  Ihe  Prolegomena,  chiefly  after  Maranus,  —  ib.  p.  Ivii.  sqq.  —      I  can 


142  NOTES   TO 


cribed  to  Jesus  is  susceptible  of  a  double  iaterpretation  ;*  but 
nothing  can  be  more  positive  than  tbe  language  of  the  Evange- 

*  But  who  can  affirm  that  he  used  that  language  ?  See  the  notes  below.  Yet 
let  us  suppose  it  to  have  been  rcportecl  faithfully  after  the  lapse  of  near  two- 
hundred  years,  what  then  does  it  amount  to  ?  The  apparent  claim  of  divinity  in 
one  place  is  contradicted  by  its  positive  repudiation  in  another.  Setting  aside  the 
fact  that  he  prayed  to  the  Father,  which  could  not  be  if  he  and  the  Father  were 
reaUy  the  same,  the  assertion  "  I  and  the  Father  are  one"  is  regarded  by  several 

rrcaminend  the  "Homilies."  They  will  not  tire.  In  the  2(1,  ( 13th  and  14th  chaps.,  )  there  is  the  arga- 
ment  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  founded  on  the  justice  of  Ooti,  and  the  conviction  of  that  justice  from  oar 
own  sense  of  right,  which  every  good  man  will  recognize  as  identical  with  his  own  unassisted  logic. 

Justin  Maktyb  (  ab.  mirldle  of  2d  Cy.  ):  Quaest.  et  Reap.  139.  (  Op.  III.  p.  224  ed.  Otto  s.  cil.  )j  Expat, 
Rectae  Fidei  §3  (pp.  4,  6);  Qnaest.  ic.  129  (p.  204.  )  These  are  supposititious  worlis,  and  their  Catholi- 
cism in  the  dogma  of  the  Trinity  is  obvious.  In  his  genuine  works,  there  is  a  gradation  of  dignity  made 
between  the  three  persons,  and  in  the  religious  honor  rendered  Ihera.  (a)  Apol.  I.  §  13. f  pp.  162,  4.  t.  I.  ) : 
also  §60.  In  §  6,  occcurs  the  following  passage,  which  has  given  rise  to  much  discussion  :  "Him[th« 
Father  ],  and  the  Son  who  came  from  Him  and  taught  us  these  things,  and  the  array  of  other  attached  (  or, 
accompanying)  and  assimilated  good  angels  {kch.  tov  aWoiv  i-rro^fvcuv  Kat  e^o^^o^ov^eyuiv  ayadwv  ay.- 
yeXwv  (TTparoz'),  [f))  aod  the  prophetic  Spirit,  we  reverence  and  adore,  e(c."     i  pp.  14H,  150,  t.  I.) 

Tatian  the  Assyrian,  di.sciple  of  Justin:  Contro  Graecos  (  c.  an.  161)  Oral.  V.  p.  640,041,  Galland. 
BiM.  I. 

The  3d  and  5th  Fragments  of  MKLITO,  Bp.  of  the  church  in  Sardis  (  c.  169 ),  —  op.  Galland.  i».  678. 

HIPI'OLYTUS  (who  professed  to  be  the  disciple  of  Irena>us  and  who  belongs  to  the  first  quarter  of  the  Sd 
Cy.  )  against  the  heresy  of  Noetus,  the  so-called  Patripaasiant  c.  1.  (  ib.  454  ),  where  we  have  the  creed  of  the 
then  Catholic  Church  in  the  answer  of  the  presbyters  to  Moelns  when  they  expelled  him  from  the  Church. 
It  makes  no  mention  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Also  p.  455;  and  c.  iv.  pp.  466,  7 ;  the  beginning  of  c.  vii.  p.  458, 
and  ch.  viii,  p.  459.  Add  the  testimony  of  Anastasius  ( in  Colleetan.  —  ib.  p.  409).  Cf.  Tertui.lian  (  who 
flourished  toward  the  end  of  the  2d  Cy.,  dying  c.  2-0,  or  six  yy.  before  the  date  of  the  above  tract )  cc.  9  and 
23  adv.  Praiean.  ;  de  Virg.  Velatis,  c.  I  ;  de  Ressurect.  Carnia,  p.  173  t.  iii  Op.  ed.  Seinler;  and  Novatian 
(presbyter  iu  the  flrst  half  of  the  Sd  Cy.  )  de  Trinitate  c.  xii,  (p.  728  TerluU.  Op.  ed.  Rigaltii,  Venetiis  in 
fol.  1744.  )  With  regard  to  Noetus,  and  the  belief  truly  or  falsely  ascribed  to  him,  Mosbeim  De  Rebus  etc. 
ante  Const.  Sxc.  III.  532;  p.  687  (  with  note,  p.  682.  )  Also,  ib.  069  sq.  Add  Beausobre ;  Hist,  du  Ma- 
nick.  T.  1.  p.  534,  and  thereon  Mosheira  again,  I.  e.  6S6  sq. 

CYPRIAN  (beheaded  jln.  258)  :  Epist.  liiii.  Op.  col.  258  ed.  Baluzii,  Venet.  fol.  1758:  Lib.  de  Molorum 
Vanitate;  ib.  686,  7,  8  (  with  the  notes  :  )  De  Haereticia  baptizandis  f  Epist.  Ixxiii  (  col.  318  :  ]  and  again.  Lib, 
de  Unitate  Eccl.  i  col.  467.  ) 

Orioen  (  who  flourished  in  the  flrst  half  of  the  Sd  Cy.  )  is  unmistakably  wavering,  sometimes  appearing 
to  incline  to  the  faith  which  was  afterwards  established  by  the  Nictcan  Council,  sometimes  to  the  opinions 
of  Sahellius,  sometimes  to  precede  in  sentiment  the  Arians(c).  (  Mosheim, /.  c.  p.  623  ).  And  it  was  out 
of  the  doubts  of  Origen,  that  rose  into  being  the  rationalism  of  Arius,  a  demigoddess  whose  birth  at  an  earlier 
day  had  not  been  startling,  whose  death  at  a  later  day  had  been  altogether  impossible. 

Finally,  after  the  lapse  of  half  a  century  from  the  date  of  the  Nicaian  creed,  Jerom  :  xivth  Epist.  (writ- 
ten ab.  y.  375),  to  Damasus,  the  Roman  bishop  (  Op.  IV.  pp.  20,  21,  ed.  Martianay,  Paris  1706 )— "  Clama- 
mus  si  quid,  etc."  Also  the  next  Ep.  (  xv.,  to  the  Presbyter,  or  Bp.  of  Chalcis,  Mark),  where  he  explains 
his  faith  as  that  of  the  Alexandrian  or  Roman  Church  (p.  21.  "  Ha^reticus  vocor,  etc."  )  The  very  fluctua- 
tion in  the  mind  of  Jerom  shows  that  the  elements  had  not  yet  subsided  and  separated  Into  the  distinct 
forms  of  solid  earth  and  unstable  water.  All  is  as  yet  Chaos.  What  to  think  he  knows  not,  and  appears 
almost  as  ready  to  become  the  one  thing  as  the  other. 

(n)  Which  the  Emperor  Justinian  objected  to  Origen  as  one  of  the  worst  of  his  WajpJeniiM.  Ootov 
ravrr]^  fj.€i^ova  ^\aa'^r)f2.Lav  Ktira  6eov  npoeveyKeiv  nptyevr/i;  riSwarw  ;  6  icai  (trt.  tj;c  dytac  TpiaCoQ 
0<id/A,ov^  fTrLVorjaaz,  7ro\vOfi.av  Kai.  evrevdtv  etaayeiv  >SouXoM€vof  .  .  .  Justin.  Imp.  adv.  Origenem  ;  ap. 
Mansi.  SS.  Concilia,  etc.  t.  ix.  p.  489. 

(b)  Cf.  the  passage  in  the  Clementina  (  1 
Angels  :   \<T^€V  yap  Kat  avroi,  a-no  rcov  T, 

(c)  V.  Jusltn.  Imp.  ado.  Orig.  ubi  s.  p.  4i 


THE    NEW    CALVAUY  143 


b'Bts.*  It  must  be  remembered  however,  that  to  the  middle 
of  the  2d  century  we  know  not  what  Avas  the  New  Testament, 

chiirch-wTiters  so  far  down  as  tlic  3d  Cy.  (')  to  have  reference,  not  to  corporal 
identity  (  so  to  say ),  but  to  similarity  in  certain  qualities  or  attributes  and  per- 
haps in  certain  functions ;  though  this  to  me  is  sheer  blasphemy  as  well  as  ab- 
surdity, —  for,  supposing  that  the  author  of  our  religion  did  use  such  a  phrase, 
which  I  think  is  altogether  inconsistent  with  his  character,  it  could  mean  nothing 
more  than  this  :  Do  as  I  bid  you  ;  for  by  my  lips  speaketh  the  Eternal  Father ; 
in  the  lessons  that  I  teach  you.  He  and  I  may  be  considered  one.  —  Is  the  Scrip- 
tural expression  as  to  man  and  wife,  "  and  they  shall  be  one  flesh,"  to  be  taken 
literally  ?  It  is  strange  to  me  that  intelligent  men  can  so  pervert  the  plain  mean- 
ing of  language.  In  the  words  of  Clement  of  Alexandria,  though  not  applied  to 
this  occasion  or  to  such  a  theme,  pia^ovrai  Trpos  ras  ejri8i>/i'as  tijc  Tpa^njc 
( Strom,  lib.  vii,  c.  xvi ),  —  they  icrcst  the  Sot-iptxires  to  theii'  oicn  desires :  it  is 
not  their  sense  that  interprets,  but  their  wishes  and  their  aims.  But  after  the 
literalness  which  could  pervert  the  memorable  words  of  the  Last  Supper  into  the 
monstrous  doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  nothing  ought  to  be  wondered  at  in 
dogmatical  misinterpretation.     See  Note  .35. 

*  In  no  place  however  of  the  N.  T.  is  the  Trinity  expressly  indicated.    Tho 

(1)  The  creed  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  3d  Cy.,  as  it  is  fcnnd  In  Irenseus  ((.  i,  c.  S  tq.  I.  iii,  c.  4) 
Tertullinn  {adv.  Pra*.  2,  De  Prtrarript.  13,  &  De  Virg.  Vet.  i.)  is  also  given  in  Hippolytus.  at  the  place  in- 
dicated in  subnote  1,  p.  142,  supra.  Hippplytus  dates,  as  therein  intimated,  c.  An.  2'J6.  (a)  .  .  r^^ctc 
tva  Stov  otS.i^tv  aXjiSwi-  oiSa/^ty  Xpi<TToi'-  oi«a/ier  Toi'  vioy  waSovra,  ft.  r.  X.  We  kvote  Irltit  ons 
Ood  ;  we  Jtnoa  Christ  ;  we  \now  the  .Son  who  suffered,— dead  as  he  died,  and  risen  up  on  the  third  day,  and  be- 
ing on  the  right  hand  of  the  Father,  and  to  come  to  judge  the  tivmg  and  the  dead.  Not  a  word  of  tlie  Holy 
Spirit ;  not  a  word  of  the  inseparability.  It  is  simply  the  two  perMons,  as  in  modern  Unitarianism.  p.  454 
t.  i.  Bibl.  eil.  .  .T>(  yp  o"'  '?"■  ^'"i  ^'ov  tifai  ;  For  who  will  not  say  there  is  one  Ooil  !  (ib.  455.)  See  too 
o.  iv.  p.  45t!— TO  St  tiTTiiv,  iri.  tv  aoi,  k.  t.  \.;  and  p.  467,  c.  vi,  where  he  explains  the  phrase  of  John, 
&  dcoc  d  TTavroKpaToip,  Ood  the  Omnipotent,  by  Christ's  own  testimony,  all  things  are  delivered  to  me  hy  the 
Father;  and  again,  toward  the  end  of  the  same  chapter, — iva  tv  rraatv,  n.  t.  X.  p.  451?,— the  manner  ia 
which  he  winds  up  his  argument  against  Norms'  (h)  identification  of  the  Son  with  the  Father,  by  Christ's 
own  language,  1  go  to  my  Father  and  your  Father,  and  to  my  God  and  your  Ood  (vrrayo)  Trpoc,  it.  r.  X.)  is 
quite  conclusive.  It  was  the  heresy  which  confounded  Christ  with  the  Father  ;  but  the  doctrine  of  tha 
Catholic  Church  and  of  Hippolytus  was  that  they  were  distinct  persons,  and  the  power  of  Christ  a  dele- 
gated power. 

Observe  the   following   from   the  very  next  chapter  (i&.   458).      ^av  it  \tyti  it.  r.  X.      But  if  he  sayt 

(  «  )  He  flourished  under  the  Emperor  Alexander,  whose  reign  began  in  the  Y.  222.  He  has  the  com- 
mendation of  Jeroin,  who  terms  him  a  most  eloquent  man,  and  that  of  Anastasius,  which  is  more  to  tho 
point,  for,  in  addition  to  his  merit  as  a  Christian  teacher,  he  calls  him  a  faithful  witness  of  the  truth  in 
agreement  with  all  other  holy  founders  of  the  r^atholic  and  Apostolic  Church  of  God,  teaching  the  double 
yet  inseparable  nature,  A*c.  it.c.  in  CoUeclan.  p.  4':9  t.  ii.  Gall.  BiU. 

ib]  The  eminent  work  Contra  haeresin  Noeti  was  the  termination  of  the  two  and  thirty  heresies  against 
which,  according  to  I'hotius.  Hippolytus  wrote.  In  the  Vatican  Codex,  it  is  ins.-ribed,  Homity  oj  Uippoly- 
tits  aeaintt  the  Heresy  of  one  Noetus  ;     'O^iXta  'iTTTroXfroi^  e.c  rr,v  alpctriv  y:ovrov  rtvof. 

NoetUH  was,  as  before  imi  lied,  a  Potripassian  lilte  Praxeas,  l,eing  the  head  of  the  sect  of  those  Antitrinl- 
tarians  c.  VSO,  as  ITaxeas  had  been  in  the  laltir  half  of  the  orcccding  century.  E^?)  rov  Xpiorof  avro» 
tiyOLi  Toi'  tluTtpa,  itai  ovTov  Ton  Hartpa  ytytviia6ai  «ai  rrtnoveivnt  «ai  a7roT«#I'»)/t£l.ai.  {Hipp.  e. 
Hii'res.  Soeli  c.  i,:  p.  451— t.  ii.  Gall.  Uibl.)  Hr  said  that  Christ  was  himself  the  Father,  and  that  it  was  th« 
Father  himself  who  had  been  bom,  and  who  hat  suffered  and  died.  A  lilasphenious  absurdity  certainly  ;  but 
It  seems  to  me  no  prodigious  fruit  of  the  mystified,  Flalonized,  and  theosophized  dogmas  of  tb* 
Church. 


144  NOTES    TO 


and  the  collection  which  then  appeared,  and  which  contained 
of  the  Evangelists  Luke  alone,  is  pronounced  to  have  been  in 

verse  in  the  1st  Epistle  of  Jolan  (v.  7),  where  alone  this  occurs,  has  been  long 
recognized  to  be  an  interpolation.  See  in  Herries'  Bible  ( ad  loc. )  the  testimony 
of  Sir  Isaac  Newton :  Q)  and  in  our  own  times,  a  church-historian  whose 
authority  will  not  be  questioned,  any  more  than  his  intentions,  has  said  of  it  in 
the  most  positive  language,  not  only  that  it  is  deckled^/  spurious^  but  that  it 
demonstrates  by  its  sp^irious  form  how  foreign  such  a  collocation  is  to  the  wri- 
tings of  the  Neio  Testament — "ist  entschieden  unacht  und  zeugt  in  ihrer  un- 
achten  Gestalt  davon,  wie  fremd  eine  solche  Zusammenstellung  den  neutesta- 
mentlichen  Schriften  ist."    Neand.  ti,  s.  cU.  S.  985. 


(Noetos  fe.)»  Jesus  himself  said  *  I  and  the  Father  are  one  '  .  .  .  that  s<Tfj.€v,  are,  is  not  said  of  one  ;  but  indi" 
eatea  two  personages,  though  with  one  power. 

But  this  docs  not  suffice.  He  explains  the  language  of  Christ  to  Philip,  "  Philip,  have  I  been  so  long 
with  you,  and  thou  knowcsl  me  not  7  Who  sees  me,  sees  the  Father  ?  "  thus  :  that  is,  1/  thou  hast  seen  me, 
through  me  thou  mayest  know  the  Father  ;  for  from  the  similarity  there  is  in  the  image  the  Father  may  be  easily 
recognized.  But  if  thou  hast  not  known  the  image,  which  is  the  Son,  how  is  it  that  thou  wouldst  see  th« 
Father  7  (a)  The  Church,  of  course,  considers  this,  as  Athanasius  pretended  to,  aa  making  for  the  present 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  but  I  cannot  see,  with  what  precedes  and  what  follows,  that  modern  Uuitarianism 
could  wish  for  anything  more  specific. 

In  the  next  chapter  {viii,  p.  459),  the  Spirit  is  mentioned.  AvayKr)v  ovv,  k.  r.  X.  "  He  must  therefore 
needs  [Noetus],  even  against  his  will,  confess  God  the  Father  Omnipotent,  and  Christ  Jeaus,  Son  of 
God,  God  made  man,  to  whom  the  Father  subjected  all  things  except  Himself  and  the  Holy  Spirit  {  u. 
TravTa  Uarnp  {irrera^e  irapeKToq  4avTov  xaL  7rv€-u/j.aTo<:  dyiov);  and  that  these  are  thus  THREE  f»tat 
TOVTOV(;  ewai  oOtcoi;  Tpca").  He  proceeds:  "  But  would  he  know  how  onfi  God  is  demonstrated,  let  him 
know  that  there  is  one  power  of  Him  (drt  ^la  Jvva^tc  rovrov—i.  e.  let  him  understand  it  as  of  tha 
single  power  of  this  God—) ;  and  in  so  far  as  concerns  the  power,  God  ia  one  ;  but  so  far  aa  belongs  to  the 
economy  (*.  e.  its  administration),  the  manifestation  is  trifold."  The  note  16.  says  that  Tnrnauus  renders 
the  passage  :  *'  But  a'^  far  aa  respects  the  incarnation,  &,c."  An  exegetical  interpretation  of  oiKovofj.ta 
which  the  lexicons  give  us  on  the  authority  of  Jerom  and  Damascenus,  but  which  has  no  warrant  even  in 
application. 

There  need  be  no  more  cited  of  this  treatise;  the  language  cannot  be  mistaken,  except— not  by  those 
who,  as  the  roughness  of  Tertullian  has  it,  are  foots  or  blind,  but  by  those  who  are  bent  upon  mistoHng 
it.  The  doctrine  of  Hippolytus,  which,  remember,  was  pronounced  by  Anaatasius  to  be  that  of  the  Church, 
maintains  what  ia  consonant  with  the  essential  part  of  the  later  and  more  intelligible  doctrine  of  Arius, 
^  viz.  that  the  Son  is  distinct  from  the  Fathpr,  proceeded  from  the  Father,  and  relumed  to  the  Father, 
being  one  with  him  in  power  only, — and  that  delegated,  aa  he  himself  said, — not  in  person,  and  that  the 
three.  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit  are  three,  not  one,  nor  three  in  one. 

The  ground  was  sowed  for  the  Trinity,  but  the  plant  had  not  sprung  up.  Origen  himself  waa  yet  ia 
doubt  how  to  classify  it. 

(1)  As  that  excellent  edition  of  the  Bible  is  presumably  rare,  I  have 
venieuce,  the  entire  comment.  "Sir  Isaac  Kewton,  in  a  letter  to  Mj 
on  this  place,  quotes  many  passages  from  the  ancient  controversial 
originally  thus,  *  It  is  the  Spirit  that,  beareth  witness,  because  the  Spii 
bear  record,  the  spirit,  the  water,  and  the  blood,  and  these  three  agree  in  one.*  He  also  affirms,  that  this 
reading  stands  in  the  oldest  and  most  authentic  manuscripts,  and  endeavours  to  account  for  the  inter* 
polation." 

,  and  denying  the 


:onclilded 

to  ar 

:,  at  e 

ome  incc 

)i>- 

Le  Clerc, 

conti 

lini 

ng  a  dissertati 

on 

frilers  to 

prov 

e  that  th. 

e  text  stc 

.od 

t  is  truth  1 

tor 

the 

re  an 

!  three  thai 

THE    NEW    CALVARY.  145 


this  Evangelist  not  faithful.*  What  changes  may  have  been 
introtluced  in  the  text,  by  the  zeal  which  so  often  palliates  to 
itself  and  indeed  justifies  the  forgetfulness  of  integrity,  I  can- 
not say  ;  f  but  if  such  inteiiiolations  are  suspected  on  the  mere 
knowledge  of  others  which  CatlioLics  themselves  admit,  no  one 
can  deny  the  Unitarians  the  use  of  such  an  argument.  The 
mixture  of  Platonism  with  the  simple  dogmas  of  Christianity 
cannot  be  doubted,  and  the  Logos  of  St.  John  furnishes  alone  a 
handle  for  skejiticism,  or  suggests  a  doiibt  of  which  the  impugner 
of  the  Trinity  would  not  be  slow  to  avail  himself.  :|: 

*  ilarcion's  Evangel,  according  to  some  eminent  Biblical  critics  ( Eichhora, 
e.  g.  ),  was  tlie  original  gospel  from  which  at  a  later  day  ( toward  the  end  of  the 
2d  or  tlie  beginning  of  the  3d  Cy. ),  tlie  first  complete  Gospel  of  St.  Luke  was 
formed.  This  opinion  is  attacked  by  llahn  (  Theol.  Prof,  at  Kdnigsberg  ),  who 
endeavors  to  show  that  Marcion  had  the  genuine  Luke,  as  we  now  road  it,  and 
falsified  his  text,  as  is  charged  by  the  Catholic  Fathers,  to  suit  his  peculiar  dogmas. 
Das  Evaiig.  Marcions  u.  s.  w.  ( 12".  Konigsb.  1823 )  SS.  3-8,  and  27-30.  —  On  the 
disputed  Hebrew  text  of  Matthew,  pro  and  con,  consult  Hug  :  Eudeitung  in  die 
Hchriflen  des  N.  T.,  2'.  Theil,  §8  &,c.  (Tubing.  12".  1808)  S.  16  ff.  He  main- 
tains that  it  was  originally  written  in  Greek  :  §  12  ib.  S.  39,  —  in  connection  with 
preceding  §  and  pages. 

+  Celsus  (  Origen.  c.  C'elsum.  IL  c.  27.  p.  411 1.  i.  Op.  ed.  Delarue,  Paris.  1733  ) 
accused  the  Christians  of  continually  (rpixi  icai  TerpaxJ)  <£oi  TroAAaxi)  making 
alterations  in  their  Scriptures  to  meet  objections  (  av'  e^oiev  jrpos  tous  eAey^ous 
appeiaBai..  )  The  champion  of  the  Church  admits  the  charge  only  as  applicable 
to  the  heretics ! 

t  Logos  however  is  not  Plato's  word.  That  philosopher,  in  his  subtilizations, 
cliose  to  give  to  the  Divine  intellect  oc.  '■'■Noun"  a  seemingly  material  existence 
by  transforming  It  into  a  creative  power,  acting  with  the  Deity,  yet  acting  inde- 
pendently, as  if  it  were  not  a  part  of  the  Divine  essence,  but  a  divinely  consti- 
tuted agent.  In  this  No%i3  lies  the  primitive  form  or  the  mold  of  all  things,  and 
through  this  were  all  things  created.  In  the  same  way  speak  certain  writers  of 
the  0.  T.  of  the  "  Sophia"  or  Heavenly  Wiadom ;  in  fact,  speaking  in  the  same 
way  by  a  natural  figure  of  speech.  But  the  Alexandrian  theosophists,  taking  up 
the  idea,  lent  it  bj'  amplification  and  exegetical  subtlety  a  further  mystification, 
from  which  gradually  developed  itself  a  sort  of  second  or  secondary  deity,  adjunct 
with  the  Eternal,  and  co-operating  with  Him,  yet  emanating  from  Him  and  sub" 

Vol.  VT.— 10 


146  NOTES    TO 


21. — P.  61.  And  history  be  interpolated — ]  Our  religion  — 
ours,  for  I  too  claim  to  be  a  Christian  of  the  best,  professing 
namely  that  pure  and  simjile  faith  which  there  is  absolute  evi- 
dence was  prevalent  in  the  times  of  the  immediate  successors  of 
the  apostles,  which  John  Milton  presumably  ( notwithstanding,  or 

ordinate  to  Him.  This  is  the  Logos  of  Philo  and  the  Alexandrians.  (')  The 
personification,  which  is  seli-evident,  has  also  in  Phi'o  a  correlative  and  coex- 
planatory  phrase.  This  is  the  Spirit  of  God,  or  the  ffoly  Ghost  of  the  O.  T. ; 
that  which  brooded  over  the  waters  while  the  world  yet  lay  in  embryo,  that  which 
touched  with  fire  tlie  "  hallowed  lips"  of  the  prophets,  and  unsealed  their  eyes  to 
the  revelation  of  future  events.  The  early  Church-fathers,  whether  following  in 
the  same  track,  or  of  their  own  conception  (for,  I  repeat,  it  is  originally,  this  sub- 
stantive idea,  but  a  perfectly  natural  one,  as  its  phraseology  is,  when  not  envel- 
oped in  mystification  but  left  to  its  naked  self,  simple  and  intelligible  ),  the  early 
Fathers  adopted  the  same  bold  prosopopoeia.  Thus  the  Sophia,  which  corresponds 
to  the  Holy  Spirit  of  the  received  faith,  and  to  the  ''  filius  Dei  ab  hrereditate  "  of 
Hermas,  occurs  in  the  XVth  Homily  of  the  Clementina,  and  in  such  manner  as 
to  make  its  identity  with  the  Logos  lucidly  manifest.  St.  Peter  is  responding  to 
Simon  Magus'  questions  on  the  unity  or  plurality  of  the  Godliead.  Sim.  Kai 
enr^v  6  ©eos'  iroirjo-wfiei'  k.  t.  \.  And  God  said :  Let  n.i  make  man  according 
to  our  image  and  semblance.  The  '  Let  us  make '  signifies  two  or  more  ;  but  not 
one.  And  Peter  answers  :  It  is  one,  speaking  to  /lis  Wisdom  :  '  Let  us  make 
man.'  With  this  Wisdom  [  Sophia  ]  ffe,  the  Eternal,  ever  had  delight  and  sympa- 
thy as  with  His  own  spirit.  For  in  truth  it  is  united  with  God  as  a  soul.  Ex- 
tended by  the  Almighty,  like  as  it  were  a  Iiand,  it  brings  into  being  and  fashions 
all  things,  etc.  (2)  But  St.  John,  who  was  nearer  the  time  of  Philo  than  the 
writer  of  the  Clementina,  even  were  this  latter  the  Eoman  Clement  himself, 
speaks  still  more  like  PhUo,  and  still  more  Platonically.  "  In  the  beginning  was 
the  Word  [ Logos '\.  And  the  Word,  etc."  He  speaks  but  figuratively  ;  and  it  is 
mere  perversion,  not  to  understand  him  as  so  speaking. 

Premising  thus  much,  and  referring  the  reader  to  Neander  [A.  G.  1^  Abth. 
2"  Bdes.  S.  990),  I  will  give,  from  a  bolder  German  ecclesiastical  historian,  the  fol- 
lowing abstract  of  Philo's  speculations  :     "  In  many  places,  Philo  describes  the 

(1)  The  Athene  of  the  Greeks,  the  spontaneous  birth  of  the  hrain  of  Zeus,  is  nothing  more  ;  and  with  a 
people  the  groundwork  of  whose  religion  was  not  the  Immutable  principle  of  the  Divine  unity,  such  phan- 
tasies as  Pljilo'8  might  easily  lead  to  polytheism. 

(2)  I  have  been  compelled  to  give  a  free  translation,  therefore  annex  the  test.  '^  St  ao^ta  coanep  .Setfi 
TTV€Vfi.aTL  avTOC  a€L  iTuV€\aip£V.  'HvwTai.  fjt.€V  fie  '^XV  '■<**  detii'  €<reti'CTa(  St  an'  avrov,  tie  KtLp 
Sti/xiovpyovca  ro  ttj-v     k.  t.  X.     Ex.  Galland.  BM.  V.  PI",  t.  ii.  pp.  747  »q. 


THE   NEW   CALVAUY.  147 


perhaps  in  consequence  of,  his  Arianism )  and  Isaac  Newton  avow- 
edly followed,  and  of  which  the  more  liberal  Unitarians  of  our 

Lofjos  as  an  individual  being,  that,  in  a  peculiar  manner  emanating  from  God,  has 
it^  own  existence.  According  to  this  second  representation,  the  Logos  is  the  old- 
est creation  of  God,  not  unbcgotten  like  God,  but  yet  not  created  as  finite  beings ; 
he  is  the  son  of  the  Eternal  Father,  His  image,  the  First  JIan,  after  whose  form 
Adam  was  made.  Creator  of  the  world,  Mediator  between  God  and  men,  Advo- 
cate and  High-priest  of  All,  Chief  of  all  Angels,  Sub-God  and  Regent  of  tho 
Universe,  whom  the  Lord  has  established  in  his  place,  since  He  Himself,  because 
of  his  purity,  may  not  touch  the  impure,  the  material.  The  Logos  has  as  such 
a  divine  mediator  often  appeared  visible  in  the  primitive  liistory  of  the  Jewish 
people.  It  is  he  of  whom  the  1st  ch.  of  Genesis  treats  as  the  Creator ;  he  is  the 
Angel  that  revealed  himself  to  the  patriarch  Abraham  in  Haine,  and  then  de- 
stroyed the  cities  of  Sodom  iuid  Gomorra ;  he  is  the  di\'ine  form  which  Moses 
saw  in  the  thornbush ;  he  is  the  pillar  which  guided  Israel  through  the  desert ;  he  is 
the  leader  of  the  wanderings  of  the  chosen  people,  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant.  And 
as  in  the  olden  time  he  revealed  himself  with  manifold  blessings,  so  will  he  one 
day  visibly  operate  for  his  people  ;  for  the  prophecies  of  the  Messiah  which  the 
seers  of  Israel  received  in  vision  relate  to  him.  His  names  are :  Logos  or  Word, 
High  Priest,  Man  of  God,  Dominion,  Covenant,  Name  of  the  Lord,  Prophetic 
Israel,  Archangel,  Paraclete,  Second  God."  Gf rorer :  A.  K-G.  1  Bd.  S.  65  fiE. — 
Believing  all  this  to  be  quite  new  to  the  plurality  of  my  readers,  I  should  will- 
ingly gather  yet  a  little  more,  premising  the  important  fact,  that,  as  the  literary 
activity  of  Philo  (  who  was  bom  about  30  yy.  B.  C.  )  occurs  at  a  time  preceding  the 
appearance  of  Jesus,  his  lore,  whatever  its  resemblance  (  which  is  often  icordfor 
xcord )  with  the  doctrines  of  the  N.  T.,  is  not  to  be  ascribed  to  Cliristian  faith  {') ; 
but  my  limits,  already  overstepped,  render  this  impracticable.  For  the  adop- 
tion of  the  term  Logos  for  the  "imaginary  being,'"  which,  as  Gfrbrer  says,  was 
in  fact  "a  second  person  in  the  Godhead,"  see  in  the  same  vol.,  pp.  66-70.  — 
Philo's  notions  of  faith,  hope,  love,  repentance,  piety,  signally  accord,  as  just 
said,  with  the  sentiments  and  doctrine  of  the  Apostles.  He  did  not,  however, 
believe  in  the  Devil  or  a  Hell,  and  rejected  the  Pharisean  creed  of  a  bodily 
resurrrection,  and  maintained  the  pre-existcnce  of  the  soul.    Nor  did  he  confound 

(1)  "  In  an  extenflive  commentary  on  the  books  of  Moses,  he  has  laid  down  a  number  of  very  peculiar 
Tiews,  which  often  accord  to  a  word  with  the  doctrines  of  the  N.  T.  This  striltlnB  coincidence  misled 
lome  of  th..'  oldest  Christian  Fathers  to  the  conjecture,  that  Fhilo  was  a  Christian,  and  had  drawn  his 
relirious  Tirwa  from  our  Church;  an  assertion  whose  falsity  is  incontestably  manifest  from  the  sinelo 
circumstance,  that  Philo's  activity  as  a  writer  occurs  at  a  time  in  which  Jesus  had  not  yet  appeared  la 
Jndea.**    orrorer,  u.  s.  p.  57. 


148  NOTES    TO 


own  day,  and  the  so-called  Rationalists,  are  preparing,  slowly 
indeed  by  reason  of  the  obduracy,  love  of  the  marvelous,  and 
Ijroneness  to  idolatry  and  sui^erstition,  of  the  common  mind, 
slowly,  but  I  think  surely,  the  perfect  restoration  —  our  religion, 
as  it  now  stands,  supports  its  most  glaring  error  upon  the  svip- 
posed  testimony  of  Josephus  {A?it.  J.  xviii.  3.  3].  Now  that 
passage  is  by  its  very  form  and  language  palpably  a  counter- 
feit. Hence  in  the  text-edition  I  have  latterly  used  it  is  in- 
cluded in  brackets.  That  Whiston  himself  had  secret  doubts 
of  its  genuineness  is  abundantly  manifest  from  the  fact  that 
he  cites  authority  after  authority,  not  one  of  which  is  of  any 
value  in  the  case,  to  prove  that  that  thorough  Jew  Josephus 
did  write  it.  (  See  his  Appendix :  Dm.  i ;  also  his  second  note 
to  Chap,  xii,  Bk.  i.  of  the  Antiquities.  )*  Its  origin  is  due  to 
the  same  unscrupulous  spirit  that  prompted  the  story  in  Ter- 
tullian   of  Pilate's   report   of  the  miracles  of  Jesus  to  the  em- 

tho  expected  Messiah  with  tlie  Logos,  (')  his  ideas  of  the  latter  being  too  ethereal 
and  exalted,  and  of  the  former  too  earthly.  "£m<  roe  see  that  with  such  prece- 
dents, others  who  had  feioer  dogmatical  scruples  had  but  yet  a  Utile  step  to  take  to 
declare  the  Messiah  and  the  Logos  one."    lb.  92. 

*  The  attempt  to  buttress,  not  the  religion  of  Christ,  —  that  stands  on  its  own 
merits,  which  are  solid  and  paramount,  —  but  its  claims  to  a  divine  origin  or  rev- 
elation, by  frauds  that  are  supposed  to  be  justified  by  the  assumed  piety  of  their 
purpose,  has  done  more  to  keep  up  infidelity  and  to  augment  contuiually  its 
forces,  than  all  the  logic  of  reason  or  the  knowledge  of  facts,  which  are  confined 
to  scholars  and  accepted  by  only  cultivated  intellects.  I'et  the  practice  is  con- 
tinued, and  to  its  suicidal  tendency  are  added  the  efforts  of  pulpit  orators,  who 
are  apt  to  address  their  audience  as  if  it  was  not  really  Christian,  or  as  if  they 
themselves  were  new  preachers  of  a  new  doctrine  not  understood  and  without 
recognized  authority.  A  clergjonan  should  never  speak  as  if  his  creed  was  to  be 
suspected  ;  in  attempting  to  defend  the  divineness  of  Christianity,  he  in  fact 
assaUs  it,  and  keeps  before  the  mind  of  his  hearers  the  doubts  that  would  other- 
wise have  a  chance  to  be  forgotten.  The  French  proverb,  Qui  s'excuse  s''acciise, 
is  sufficiently  familiar. 

(1)  This  hardly  accords  with  what  Is  said,  above,  of  the  prophecies. 


THE   KEW   CALVARY  H9 


peror  Tiberius  and  the  latter' s  endeavor  thereupon  to  have  him 
classed  among  the  gods  of  Rome  {v.  Ncander :  1"  B^  S.  134,  f.  — 
Aufl.  1825 ) ;  to  that  which  still  disgi-accs  some  biographies  of 
Christ  ( that  of  Wright,  for  example)  by  the  letter  imputed  to  P. 
Lentulus  giving  the  Emperor  a  description  of  the  Saviour's  per- 
son, —  an  impudent  fiction  which  might  be  confuted  by  the  mere 
opinions,  conflicting  as  they  are,  of  ancient  Church-fathers  ( v. 
Note  1  ),  and  which  is  only  less  absurd  than  the  stoiy  of  the 
mummery  of  the  napkin  and  impressed  image.* 

I  have  already  shown  how  this  fraudulent  practice  was  appUed 
to  promote  the  dogma  of  the  Trinity,  that  standing  reproach  to 
the  common  sense,  and  I  think  also  to  the  piety,  of  the  mass  of 
Christians.  A  simUar  trickery  was  resorted  to,  to  substantiate 
the  claim  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome  to  universal  chui-ch-supremacy.  f 

*  I  beg  to  refer  the  reader  to  a  most  entertaining  and  learned  article  of  M.  da 
Beausobre  on  the  images  not  made  by  hands  ( oxf  ipo7roir,Toi/s  )  but  emanating, 
so  to  say,  directly  from  the  divinity :  liibl.  Genu.  t.  xviii.  p.  8,  sqq.  He  will 
perhaps  be  at  first  a  little  shocked  at  the  tone  of  mockery  assumed  by  the  accom- 
plished critic  ;  but  this  will  soon  pass  over,  and  if  the  matter  he  there  reads  be 
perfectly  fresh  to  him,  his  surprise  will  equal  his  gratification.  See  partictalarly 
ib.  pp.  9,  10,  14,  28,  34.  The  whole  essay,  through  about  40  of  the  small  pagea 
(  24°  ),  is  occupied  with  the  marvelous  image  which  Christ  is  said  to  have  im- 
printed of  himself  on  a  napkin  and  sent  mth  a  letter  to  Abgar,  King  of  Edessa 
(  —  for  the  letter,  Euseb.  1.  13,  Natal.  Alex.  Skc.  1.  Diss.  iii.  — ),  and  which, 
preser\'ed  in  the  outer  waU  of  the  city,  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Greeks  and 
came  at  last  to  Rome,  where,  under  the  name  of  the  Holy  Face,  it  is,  or  was  then 
( toward  the  2d  quarter  of  the  18th  Cy.  ),  preser\-ed  in  the  Church  of  St.  Sylves- 
ter. Sec  Baron,  ad  An.  W4,  and  thereon  Pagi.  Critica  ib.  I  can  add  but  this 
trait :  400  jT-  after  Eusebius,  Gregory  II ,  writing  to  Leo  Isaiiricus  ( Saron.  ad 
An.  728),  vouched  not  only  for  the  letter,  but  for  the  image,  of  which  Eusebiua, 
with  more  decency,  had  said  nothing,-"  Christum  sua  manu  rcscripsisse,  mi^sa 
linteo  impresm  inuKjine."'  ib.  p.  16. 

t  The  assumed  original  supremacy  of  the  See  of  Rome  rests  upon  no  demon- 
strable foimdation.  In  the  writers  of  the  two  first  centuries  I  find  not  the  least 
intimation  of  it,  and  so  late  as  the  middle  of  the  third  the  sole  testimony  in  its 
favor  is  that  of  a  passage  in  Cyprian  which  is  very  generally  acknowledged  to  bo 


150  NOTES   TO 


In  the  Stli  volume  of  Martianay's  edition  of  Jerom,  in  the 
Preface  to  the  Catalogue  of  eminent  Christian  writers,  there  are 
some  examples  given  of  the  wilful  frauds  committed  by  party- 
zeal  or  malice  in  the  publication  of  imi^ortant  Mss. 

22.— P.  61.     —  against  Himself—] 

Since  in  ojypugnance  to  His  own  fix' d  laws 

would  be  the  verse  which  should  follow,  if  explication  were  ad- 
missible in  the  part. 

an  interpolation,  which  to  suppose  accidental  may  be  charity  but  is  certainly  more 
than  justice.  In  his  address  to  the  Council  of  Carthage,  where  were  present  87 
bishops,  whose  opinions  he  himself  records,  Cyprian  declared  they  were  all  equal, 
had  no  right  of  judgment  one  over  another,  and  received  their  appointment  from 
Christ  alone  —  to  whom  alone  it  belonged  to  pronounce  upon  their  function,  (i) 
On  the  other  hand,  in  the  interpolated  passage,  in  the  book  on  the  Unity  of  the 
Church,  he  is  made  to  say,  in  reference  to  the  well-known  words.  Thou  art  Peter, 
etc.,  and  again,  Feed  my  sheep,  that  on  Peter  alone  Christ  builds  his  Church  and 
to  him  alone  commits  his  flock  ;  and  that  although,  after  his  resurrection,  he  con- 
ferred eqiial  power  on  all  the  apostles,  yet  he  chose  one  of  them  to  be  the  point  of 
unity :  they  were  all  endowed  with  the  same  dignity  and  power  as  Peter,  but  the 
primacy  was  given  to  him,  to  demonstrate  that  the  Church  of  Christ  is  one  and 
one  the  see  or  chair.  (-) 

This  passage  which,  even  were  it  admitted  to  be  genuine,  cannot  be  reconciled 
with  the  previous  language  of  Cyprian,  and  which,  could  It  be  so  reconciled,  is 
rendered  of  no  weight  by  the  simplest  comment  of  good  sense  upon  the  text  iu 

(11  "  Supereat  ut  de  hac  ipsa  re  [de  heertticU  baptizandia'\  Binguli  quid  BentiamuB  proferamus,  neminem 
judicantes,  aut  a  jure  communicatioiiis  aliquetn,  si  diverfium  Benserit,  amovenles.  Neque  enim  ijuistiuam  noS' 
$rum  ei'iscopum  se  ease  episcoporum  constifuit,  aut  tyrannico  terrore  ad  obsequeildi  neceHSitatem  tollegos  BU09 
adigit,  quanio  haltcat  omnia  epiacopus  pro  iicentia  libertatia  et  poteatatis  su<f  arbitrium  proprium,  tamtiue 
judicari  ab  alio  nan  poaait  quam  nee  ipse  potest  aCterum  judicare.  Sed  exspertemus  univerpi  judicium  Dom. 
Nob.  J.  Ctiristi,  qui  unua  et  aolua  habet  potestatetn  et  praponendi  noa  in  eccleaia;  Bua;  gubernatione  et  de  actis 
nostria  judieandi."  Concil.  Cartliag.  Op.  coll.  697,  8  ed.  Baiuzii  (Venet.  in  fol.  1758.)  His  language  however 
Bliowa  ttiat  the  leaven  of  ambition  was  already  fermenting,  and  that  he  was  uneasily  watching  and  endeavor- 
ing to  repress  its  rise. 

{2)  .  ."  tamen  ut  uiiTtatem  manifestaret,  unitatis  ejusdem  originem  ab  uno  incipientcm  sua  antoritate 
dispoBuit.  Hoc  erant  utique  et  ceteri  apostoli  quod  fuit  Petrus,  pari  cnnsorlio  pra^diti  pt  honoris  et  pntesta- 
tiB,  aed  exordium  ah  unitate  proficiscitur,  et  primatuB  Petro  datur  ut  una  Christi  ecclesia  et  cathedra  una 
moiiBtrclur."  Lib.  de  Vnit.  Ecclca.  (  Op.  ed.  cit.  p.  '1C3.)  Not  merely  this  part,  but  the  whole  passage  upon 
the  text  from  Matthew,  was  thrown  out  in  the  Ist  edition  of  Baluzius,  who,  citing  Latiuiua  as  saying  it  waa 
not  found  tn  7  Vatican  Mas.,  adds,  *'  Ego  viUi  7  et  20  in  quibuB  pariter  dcest '  " 


THE   NEW    CALVARY  151 


23. — P.  G3.  Mosch''  act  Was  a  formality — ]  BoiTowed,  or 
rather  continued,  from  that  of  the  Egyptian  priests,  his  teachers 
or  his  fellows,  who  used  a  similar  ceremony,  to  which  of  course 
the  people  of  the  Exodus  had  been  well  accustomed. 

24. — P.  64.  For  iclwm  the  sin-goat  bleeds  not^  and  the  smolce 
Of  incense  buni'd  tcithin  the  vail,  etc.  ]     Levit.  xvi 

25. — P.  72.  Brook\l  not  the  eagle  on  the  House  of  God — ]  The 
golden  eagle  which  Herod  had  erected  over  the  great  gate  of  the 
Temple,  and  which  certain  young  men  under  the  instigation  of 
Judas  and  Matthias,  teachers  and  expounders  of  the  law,  under- 
took to  remove  during  Herod's  illness.  Josephus  says  that  Herod, 
who  was  then  about  seventy  years  old,  burnt  alive  this  Matthias 
with  forty  of  his  associates.     Antiq.  J.  xvii.  vi. 

question  (i),  this  piissage,  of  which  I  give  the  most  suspicious  part  In  the  under- 
note,  was  rejected  altogether  by  Baluzc,  who,  as  there  stated,  found  it  wanting  in 
no  less  than  7  and  20  copies  of  the  Vatican.  As  it  is  too  largo  to  have  been  acci- 
dentally omitted,  the  iivference  is  obvious. 

fl)  It  would  be  productive  of  singular  conflequences,  if  a  literal  interpretation  were  given  to  every  saying 
of  Christ's.  "  If  thine  eye  offend  thee,  etc."  The  allusion  to  the  name  of  Peter  could  only  have  been  mado 
by  one  speaking  Greelt,  and  to  those  who  understood  Greek,  whereas  Jesus  undoubtedly  discoursed  in  He- 
brew and  to  Hebrews,  (a)  But  receiving  the  account  of  the  Evangelist  as  literally  elacl.what  is  the  evident 
meaning,  as  presented  to  one  who  is  not  interested  in  giving  it  a  peculiar  sense  ?  Thou  art  Peter  :  I  knov) 
Ihy  enerpf  and  ardor,  and  on  thee  ehiejl]/  depend  for  the  propagation  of  my  faith,  building  my  invisible  church 
upon  thy  seal  and  firmnest  at  a  ttmple  on  a  rock  whole  foundations  nothing  human  can  shake.  It  conveys 
no  pre-eminence  and  implies  no  concentration.  Clirist  simply  relies  upon  Peter  for  the  propagation  of  the 
faith.  And  it  must  certainly  be  admitted,  that  those  who  claim  to  be  his  direct  successors  have  inherited 
to  the  full  the  same  spirit. 

(a)  We  have  seen  that  the  N .  T.  was  not  known  till  the  middle  of  the  2d  Cy.,  and  even  then  contained  of 
all  the  evangelists  but  a  portion  of  what  is  now  recogniied  as  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke  i  and  further,  that  it  is 
not  known  that  there  was  ever  even  on  original  Hebrew  text  of  Matthew.  The  Oospel  of  John,  where  the 
famous  words  again  occnr,  was,  it  need  not  be  said,  written  originally  in  Greek.  Add  now  the  pluusiltle  and 
partially  admitted  complaint  of  Cclsun,  that  the  Christians  were  perpetually  making  alterations  in  their 
gospels,  and  we  shall  come  near  to  a  just  conclusion  of  this  passage,  whose  play  of  words  is  singularly  dis- 
cordant with  the  unalterably  solemn  and  even  melancholy  language,  on  all  occasions,  of  the  alleged  speaker. 

DuPin  however,  in  the  notes  to  his  edition  of  (iptavus  (  Lulet.  Paris,  in  fol.  1760  ),  p.  ve,  gives  out  that 
Christ  spoke  in  Syriac,  antl  used  the  phrase  Cephas  and  Crpha  .'  "Cephas  Syriaed  est  Petra.  Dixit  ergo 
Chrislus;  Tu  es  Cepha,  et  super  hunc  Cepha— quod  Gra-c*  reddidit  Matlheus  6ti  itv  t«  ricipot,  etc."  Ilia 
author  however  derives  Cephas  from  <€(>oX7),  and  says  the  Saviour  called  Peter  Cephas  as  being  head  of  the 
Church.  16.  I)u  Pin  considers  this  "allusio  parum  solida  est."  Tiue  enough;  but  it  is  quite  as  substantial 
as  his  own  observation. 

See  however,  as  to  the  capability  of  the  Jews  in  general  to  understand  Greek,  Hug.  Einleitung  u.  s.  w.(  na 
elsewhere  cited  )  Th.  '2.  §  10.  SS.  29,  ff.  Supposing  him  to  have  proved  his  position  that  the  great  body  of  tha 
Hebrew  people  did  understand  Greek,  it  remains  to  be  shown  that  it  would  be  used  in  prefereuce  on  such  an 
occasion  as  that  in  questiou. 


152  NOTES   TO 


2G. — P.  72.     Nor  hands  icoukl  break  the  Sabbath,  etc.  ]     Kai 

enEiSri  tout'  ety^ei'  Ixai'tdc^  iinXtg  TrXr/aBeiani  Trig  Tntfioov^  k.   t.   ^.       Jind  Wheil 

he  laid  this  [  the  mound  ]  of  svfficient  height,  the  ditch  being  with 
difficulty  filled  wp  because  of  the  tinvsual  dei^th,  having  brought  up 
the  machines  and  e)igines  procured  from  Tyre  he  [  Pompeius  ] 
applied  them,  and  broke  the  temple's  tcalls  with  the  stone-hurlers. 
And  was  it  not  a  custom  icith  tis  transmitted  from  our  sires  to  cease 
from  work  on  the  seventh  day,  the  mound  could  not  have  been  com- 
pleted in  the  face  of  their  [  the  defenders'  ]  opposition.  For  the 
law*  allows  us  to  repel  the  enemy  when  they  begin  the  fight  and 
come  to  bloics,  but  lohen  they  da  anything  else  does  not  permit  it. 
Ant.  Jud.  XIV.  iv.  2. 

27. — P.  76.  —  thus  themselves  Doing,  etc.  etc.]  The  text 
might  be  illustrated  by  a  hundred  examples,  many  of  which  will 
occur  to  the  reader  himself  at  the  bare  suggestion ;  but  as  I  have 
alluded  to  Arianism,  and  as  that  ' '  heresy  "  is  a  sort  of  neutral 
ground  where  the  antagonisms  of  Christian  deism  and  tritheism 
meet  and  seemingly  coalesce,  or,  if  it  is  not  irreverent  to  say  so, 
a  sort  of  half-way  house  between  the  starting-point  of  the  true 
Church  of  Christ  and  that  false  goal  of  a  devious  travel,  the 
sophistry  of  a  mongi-el  and  idolatrous  triune  worship,  let  us  take 
the  instance  of  Arius. 

He  was  the  founder  of  a  sect  which  in  the  4th  Cy.  actually 
divided  the  Christian  world,  and  was  in  one  portion  of  it  for  a 

*  Not  the  written  law,  biit  the  traditional  one  ot  the  Jewish  doctors,  dating 
after  the  Maccabeos.  (  So  Hudson's  note  ad  loc.  ]  —  But  written  or  unwritten, 
its  observance  sets  in  the  strongest  light  the  absurd  bigotry  of  the  Jews,  which 
Josephus  on  the  occasion  presents  to  our  admiring  regard  as  consummate  piety. 
Nor  is  he  to  be  laughed  at ;  for  the  Pharisees  of  ovir  own  faith  judge  and  do  the 
like,  who  on  fast-days  abstain  rigidly  from  meat  but  indulge  freely  in  liquor,  and 
confessing  their  casual  and  inconsequential  peccadilloes  say  nothing  of  habitual 
incontinence. 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  153 


long  time  completely  paramount.  *  Ouly  fragments  of  liis  wiit- 
ings  have  escaped  the  destruction  to  which  the  Imperial  pohcy 
rather  than  piety  condemned  them  ;f  but  his  arguments  on  the 
nature  of  the  Son  of  God,  as  they  may  be  gathered  from  his  chief 
antagonist, t  are,  briefly  stated,  as  follows.  Christ  being  begotten, 
there  was  a  time  when  he  was  not,  and  when,  consequently,  God 
was  not  the  Father.  His  existence  therefore  having  a  commence- 
ment in  a  point  of  time,  the  Wo?'d  was  not  eternal.  Now,  if  not 
eternal,  the  Word  cordd  not  be  God,  and  if  not  God  could  not 
have  been  begotten  of  God ;  for  that  which  is  of  God  begotten 
must  share  His  i)roper  nature.  Hence  Christ  was  7iot  begotten  of 
God,  but  was  created,  being  before  all  other  creations,  and  the 
only  one  created  of  God  as  the  Father.     Thus  his  divinity  is  not 

*  Under  an  Arian  prince,  when  Athanasius  was  driven  from  Alexandria  into 
e.xile,  "dilapso  in  fide  Apostolorum  omni  pene  raundo,"  the  bishops  showed 
sucli  pliancy  of  con.scicnce,  that  out  of  650  scarceli/  7  were  found  to  whom 
the  commands  of  God  xcere  dearer  than  those  of  the  king.  Jul.  Pelag.  ap. 
Augiiiitin.,  in  Operis  Imperf.  lib.  1". — August.  Op.  t.  x.  p.  C89,  ed.  Benedict. 
(Antw.  infol.  1700). 

t  The  Emperor  professed  a  desire  not  only  for  the  annihilation  of  his  dogma, 
but  of  his  very  memory,  and  commanded  instant  death  to  be  inflicted  on  any  one 
found  concealing  a  book  of  the  infamous  heretic.  See  his  letter  in  Socrat.  Jlist. 
Eccl.  I.  ix.,  p.  27  ed.  Valesii  ( Amstel.  in  fol.  1700). 

X  Athanas.  c.  Arianos.  Orat.  i.  —  Op.  {  Paris,  in  fol.  1698. )  t.  i.  p.  413 ;  and 
Epist.  ad  Episc.  ^gypti  et  Lihym  —  ib.  2S1  sq.  (')  In  the  former  work  we  have 
handed  down  to  us  the  opening  of  the  chief  composition  of  Arius,  Tfialia.  It 
would  make  hun  appear  to  have  been  pompous  and  self-satisfi/ed.  Like  Ulysses, 
he  hesitated  not  to  call  himself  the  renowned,  6  TrepixAvTo?,  and  gives  out  magni- 
loqunntly,  as  with  the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  that  he  is  come  to  preach  the  wisdom 
taught  him  by  God.  It  seems  to  have  been  a  composition  partly  in  prose  and 
partly  in  verse,    v.  Socrat.  H.  E.  u.  s.,  p.  25  :  Sozom.  II.  E.  I.  x-xi.  (  ej.  torn  355.). 

(1)  Athanasius  was  at  the  time  tht*  strife  commenced  Deacon  in  the  head  chnrch  of  Alexandria,  and  Arins 
a  presbyter,  pastor  of  Baulialis.  'I'he  latter  was  by  birth  a  Libyan,  and  according  to  Epiphanius  already 
advanced  in  years  when  the  dispute  broke  out.  See,  besides  the  works  just  cited  and  Kusebius  in  the  2(1 
Dk.  of  the  Vilo  Contlanl.,  Athanas.  DUpul.  ( in  Oonc.  Nic.  )  c.  Arium,  (  T.  ii.  pp.  200  stji].  ed.  cit.  ),  where 
Arius  is  introduced  personally.     Augualiu  has  also  written  against  the  Ariaus.  it.  v,  and  viii,  ed.  cit. 

7* 


154  NOTES    TO 


the  g-odhead  of  birth,  but  the  result  of  the  Omnipotent  Paternal 
favor :  he  is  not  very  God,  but  made  God.  And  by  his  individual 
will  though  always  good,  yet  hy  Ids  nature  as  a  creature  he  icas 
capable  of  evil,  for  as  a  creature  he  shared  not  the  immutable 
nature  of  the  Father.  —  The  augmentation  of  the  dignity  of  the 
Great  Teacher,  which  began  to  obtain  after  the  close  of  the  2d 
Cy. ,  until  at  this  time  it  had  reached  its  highest  point  by  equaliza- 
tion of  his  ascribed  divinity  with  that  of  the  Creator,*  Arius 
opposes,  not  only  by  his  arguments,  but  by  a  direct  hypothetical 
assertion  that  the  Almighty  is  himself  invisible  to  the  Son. 

A  doctrine,  which  if  not  in  itself  rational  is  yet  based  on  argu- 
ments sustainable  by  the  logic  of  human  reason,  was  not  likely  to 
want  favorers,  especially  in  that  era  of  Christianity,  when  the 
dogma  of  the  Triune  nature,  allowed  by  its  own  teachers  to  be 
incomprehensible,  was  comparatively  recent,  nor  had  yet  had 
time  to  overgrow  the  simpler  faith  which  had  taken  root  for  more 
than  two  centuries.  Accordingly,  scarcely  was  the  dogma  made 
public,  which  was  in  the  17th  year  of  the  4th  Cy. ,  when  thou- 
sands acknowledged  it  as  theii-  own.  From  Alexandria,  where  it 
broke  out,  the  flame  spread  through  all  Egypt ;  Libya  was  kin- 
dled ;  Asia  caught  the  light  of  the  burning,  and  from  the  windows 
of  her  churches  the  neighboring  parts  of  Europe  received  reflected 
the  illumination.  Numbers  of  the  clergy  danced  with  the  multi- 
tude delighted  round  the  blaze,  and  the  hearts  of  many  prelates, 
among  whom  we  have  already  seen  the  historian  Eusebius,f  were 
warmed  into  new  energy  by  the  genial  heat  of  a  creed  which  dis- 
pelled for  them  the  benumbing  cold  of  doubt  and  loosed  the  stag- 
nating influences  of  a  compulsatory  faith.     More  than  one  synod 

*  Cf.  Sozom.  u.  s.,  1.  vi.  c.  xxii.  ( p.  541. ) 

+  This  was  about  the  Y.  S23  ;  but  the  other  Eusebius  (  Bishop  of  Nicomcdia), 
Arius'  friend  from  youth,  had  earlier  pronounced  for  his  opinions  in  two  Epistles, 
and  by  his  position  and  influence  converted  the  strife  into  one  between  the  Sees 
of  Nioomedia  and  Alexandria.     See,  further,  the  next  subnote. 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  155 


was  held  in  its  favor  ;  and  Constantine,  who,  as  a  new  convert, 
was  peculiarly  disposed  to  waver  between  the  two  donnas,*  might 
have  finally  pronounced  for  the  new  one  ;f  but  at  the  Council  of 
Nicfca  which  he  called  together  ( June,  325  ),  and  where  Arianism 
was  a  main  question  of  discussion,  it  was  rejected  by  an  over- 
whelming majority, J  and  the  creed  adopted,  thence  known  as  the 
Jfictean,  which  affirms  the  Son  to  be  of  one  substance  with  the 
Father. 

Arianism  may  be  said  to  have  been  the  primitive  faith  of  all  the 
Germans.  Ulpian,  who  first  converted  the  Goths,  was  himself  a 
semi-Arian  ;  and  when  in  the  latter  half  of  the  4th  Cy.  the  Visi- 
goths were  received  into  the  Empire  by  Valens  on  condition  of 
baptism,  they  adopted  naturally  the  faith  of  that  emperor.  From 
them  Christian  monotheism  spread  to  the  other  Goths  and  to  the 
Vandals,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  5th  Cy.  it  was  adopted  by  the 
Burgundians.  § 

In  the  East  it  continued  the  paramount  faith  for  forty  years, 

*  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia,  who  was  subsequently  banished,  to  be  afterward  re- 
called with  Alius,  had  at  this  time  great  iiifluence  in  the  court  of  Constantine, 
and  Eusebius  was  a  decided  Arian,  notwithstanding  his  abandonment  of  Arius. 
Cs.  Sozomen.  IT.  E.  ii.  29.  —  p.  398  ed.  Val.  cit.  Rufinus  and  Jerom  both  affirm 
that  the  Emperor,  whose  sister  Constantia  had  already  become  a  proselyte,  was 
actually  won  over  to  the  new  heresy  by  the  Arian  bishop.  CJ.  GfriJrer  —  A.  K. 
II.  i.  S.  200.  —  who  refers  to  Tillemont,  vi.  252,  .3. 

t  Or  rather,  tlie  new-old  one  ;  for  Arianism  was  in  fact,  as  to  its  tenets,  but  the 
faith  of  the  Jew-Christians,  modified  by  the  endeavor  on  the  part  of  the  founder, 
or,  if  you  please,  reviver,  to  reconcile  his  own  judgment  with  the  habit  of  incul- 
cated doctrine.  The  monotheism  of  Arius  was  that  of  a  syllogizing  bishop  rather 
than  that  of  a  Christian  philosopher. 

X  Fifteen  to  one.  There  were  more  than  300  bishops  present  (  see  the  letters 
of  the  Erap.  Constantine  in  Soaat.  B.  E.  I.  ix.  p.  26  ed.  cit. )  ;  a  number  quite 
significant  of  the  nature  of  the  office.  The  bishop  of  Rome,  not  being  able  to 
attend,  sent  two  priests  to  represent  him. 

§  Michelet,  speaking  of  the  period  when  the  Gothic  clergy  invited  the  Franks 
into  Gaul  (Y.  451),  says:    "Tous  les  autres  Barbares  a  cette  epoque  etaient 


156  NOTES    TO 


viz.  from  the  T.  340  to  380,  when  Theodosius,  not  without  a  show 
of  military  force,  raising  to  the  primacy  of  Constantinople  Gregoiy 
Nazianzen,  put  it  completely  down,  employing  against  its  profes- 
sors, whom  he  styled,  by  a  strangely  chosen  designation,  mad- 
men,  *  as  odious  persecution  ( through  fifteen  severe  edicts )  as  the 
See  of  Rome  at  a  later  day,  but  in  the  same  faith,  practised 
against  aU  indeiiendence  of  religious  thought. 

28. — 77.  A  man,  As  tliou  art.  ]  I  have  already  said  sufRcicnt 
on  this  theme,  to  obviate  the  necessity  of  illustration  here.  But 
it  may  be  permitted  me  to  give  in  a  few  words  the  sum  of  pre- 
vious explanation,  viz. ,  that  the  simple  humanity  of  Jesus  was 
not  only  recognized  by  all  his  immediate  disciples,  but,  notwith- 
standing the  mysticism  of  St.  Paul,  was  the  prevalent  belief  of 
the  Church  for  perhaps  two  hundred  years,  while  until  the  third 
century  Christianity  had  not  so  far  lost  itself  as  to  assign  to  "the 
Son  of  God  "  the  creative  and  eternal  omnipotence  of  the  Father 
or  to  give  him  consubstantiality  with  the  Divine  person.  Even 
so  late  as  the  latter  half  of  the  4th  Cy.,  the  Greeks  and  Latins 
disputed  hourly  upon  the  meaning  of  ovma  and  v-Koaraaii.^ 

29.— P.  78. —    the  foretold  Messias.}     See  Note  31. 
30. — P.  79.    —  when  in  dream,   etc.  ]     Isaiah,  vi.  4. 

Arlens.  Tons  appartenaient  h  une  race,  k  une  nationalite  distincte.  Les  Francs 
Beuls,  population  mixte,  semblaient  etre  restes  flottans  siir  la  frontiere,  prCts  a 
touto  irloe,  k  toute  influence,  a  toute  religion.  Eux  seuls  regurcnt  le  Christianisme 
par  realise  latine."    Hist,  de  France :  t.  i.  p.  194. 

*  "We  authorize  the  follovvers  of  this  doctrine  [of  the  Trinity '\  to  assume  the 
title  of  Catholic  Christians ;  and  as  ice  jmlcje,  that  all  others  are  extravagant 
madmen,  we  brand  them  with  the  infamous  name  of  Heretics.  Etc.'''  Cod.  Theo- 
dos.  1.  xvi.  —  cited  by  Gibbon  :  Decl.  and- Fall.  c.  xxvii. 

t  In  the  received  sense,  the  Trinity  is  one  in  oucria  ( beinrf,  essence,  essential 
nature),  biit  three  in  u7TO(7Ta<ris  {substance,  personality). 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  157 


31. — p.  79.  — npplif.<>  to  times  The  enr a j)tufd  words  make 
imminent,  not  remote.]  This  is  easily  demonstrated.  In  the  first 
verse  of  Chapter  vii.  of  Isaiah,  we  are  told  that  while  Ahaz  was 
ruling  over  Judah  (  c.  742  A.  C. ),  the  king  of  Israel  joined  with 
the  kifig  of  Syria,  to  attack  Jerusalem.  AVhereupon  Ahaz  was 
sorely  shaken  {v.  2).  So  Isaiah  with  his  son  went  to  meet  him 
(3),  to  encourage  him  and  bid  him  not  care  for  the  two  tails  of 
tlvose  smoking  firebrands  (4),  that  is,  as  he  explains  it,  for  the 
wrath  or  evil  designs  of  the  Syrians  and  the  Ephraimites,  who 
had  it  in  heart  to  subdue  Judea  and  to  establish  as  king  thereof 
the  son  of  Tabeal  (5,  6).  This,  the  seer  teUs  him,  shall  in  no 
wise  come  to  pass,  for  in  threescore  and  five  years  the  Ephraim- 
ites, whose  capital  was  Samaria,  whereof  the  son  of  Remaliah 
was  king,  should  cease  to  exist  (7,  8,  9).  Then  Ahaz  sho\^Tng 
himself  incredulous,  Isaiah  proceeds  to  tell  him  to  ask  a  sign  from 
Heaven  ( 10,  11 ),  which  when  the  King  declines  to  do,  unwilling 
to  "  tempt  the  Lord,"  ( 12, )  Isaiah  reproves  him  ( 13 ),  and  i^ro- 
ceeds : 

"  14.  Therefore  the  Lord  himself  shall  give  you  a  sign.  Be- 
hold, a  virgin  shall  conceive  and  bear  a  sou,  and  shall  call  his 
name  Immanuel  [  Ood  with  us], 

"  15.  Butter  and  honey  shall  he  eat,  that  he  may  know  to  re- 
fuse the  evil  and  choose  the  good. 

"  16.  For  before  the  child  sliall  know  to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose 
tlie  good,  the  land  that  thou  abhorrest  shall  be  forsaken  of  both  her 
[the]  kings.'''' 

Of  what  kings  ?  E\adently,  the  combined  hostile  kings.  Before 
the  child  shall,  etc.  Not  before  he  shall  be  born.  Therefore  the 
prediction  or  promise  is  for  the  time  present.  And  in  no  other 
way  can  the  words  have  any  sense.  Castellio,  in  his  approved 
version,  says:  "  desolabitur  terra,  cujus  ob  duos  reges  tu  es  anxi- 
us"  —  the  land  sJiall  be  made  desolate  for  which,  because  of  the 


158  NOTES   TO 


two  kings,  tliou  art  in  tl•o^tble,  —  which  corresponds  moreover  with 
the  subsequent  forewarning  in  the  chapter.* 

The  Septuagint  for  the  same  passage  reads :  Kai  KaT(i\ti<p6r]<ytT,n 

h    yrij  I'lV  a-v  ^ojSj,  ano    npnaconov    Tiof    fvo   (iaaiKcdiv — and  the  land  IcldcTl 

thou  fearest  sJiall  be  freed  of  the  presence  of  the  two  kings. 

Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  the  prophecy,  so  to  caU  it,  applies 
positively  to  the  defeat  of  the  kings  of  Israel  and  Syria  and  to  the 
destruction  of  Samaria,  or  of  Judea,  or  of  both  Samaria  and 
Judea. 

Now  for  the  wondrous  child.  He  is  to  eat  butter  and  honey, 
that  he  may  knozc,  &c.  says  the  English  :  CasteUio — "  Qui  butyro 
melleque  vescetur,  discendo  reprobare  malum,  &c."  —  Who  shall 
feed  on  butter  and  honey,  in  learning  (or  by  learning, —  which 
would  give  the  previous  clause  a  pecuUar  figurative  sense )  to  reject 

evil  &C.  :    the   Greek:   ^ovrvpnv  <mi  pcKi  (pnyerai  jrpivr]  yvtoi/ai,  k,   t,   X. — 

Butter  and  honey  he  shall  eat  before  knowing,  &c.  But,  whatever 
the  form  of  the  translation,  if  we  are  to  take  the  essential  part  of 
the  passage  literally, — that  is,  "A  virgin  shall  conceive  and  bear, 
&c.,"  then,  also  literally,  the  child  was  to  be  fed  on  butter  and 
honey,  f     But  let  us  allow  a  large  latitude,  and  make  the  14th 

*  The  chapter  however  is  characteristically  confused,  and  it  is  dlfRcult  to  teU 
which  land  it  is  that  is  to  be  desolated,  although  as  the  prophet's  object  was  to 
encourage  Ahaz,  it  is  probable  that  Samaria,  which  is  to  say  the  kingdom  of  Israel, 
is  meant.  So  in  the  English  version  we  have  "the  land  that  thou  abhorrest,"  and 
in  the  Greek  "  which  thou  fearest,"  whUe  the  intervening  promise  of  abundance, 
if  it  is  such  and  not  a  threat  of  devastation,  (  v.  21,  or  22  Eng.  ),  must  apply  to 
Judea.  Castellio's  version,  according  to  the  true  Latin  construction,  can  refer 
only  to  the  latter. 

1 1  find  that  Biblical  commentators  do  take  the  phrase  literally,  and  interpret  it 
that  the  divine  child  was  to  be  brought  up  like  other  children  in  the  East,  who  are 
fed  on  butter  and  honey  [?]  ;  and  this  to  give  him  the  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil.  I  should  have  thought  that  that  had  come  to  him  more  fully  by  his  super- 
human nature  than  by  any  pai-ticipation  in  the  sustenance  of  those  who  derive  it 
from  original  sin.      See  subnote  *  on  the  next  page. 


THE    KEW    CALVAKY  159 


verse  alone  to  have  a  literal  signification  and  the  ISth  a  fignrative 
one,  —  which  certainly  is  accommodating  the  expounders  of  the 
text  more  than  its  author, —  the  sense  of  eating  butter  and  honey 
is  either  he  shall  be  nourished  in  the  lap  of  abundance,  or,  if  the 
22d  verse  indicates  a  dearth  of  ordinary  food  through  the  ravages 
of  war,  he  shall  suffer  great  privation.  *  Was  either  accident  the 
case  with  the  chUd  of  Bethlehem,  who,  bom  in  humble  circum- 
stances but  hot  in  destitution,  finished  his  unvaried  life  before  the 
last  calamity  of  his  country  ?  f 

Finally,  the  Seventy  have  in  the  14th  verse :   If!«u  /;  irapOevoi  iv 

yaarpi    X/jtpsrai,   Kai    Tc^crai    diov,    Kat    xuXeo-cij    to    ovof^ia    avTov   Efifiat/vc)t, 

BeJidd  the  virgin  shall  conceive,  and  shall  bear  a  son,  and  tlwv. 
[  Ahaz  sc.  ]  shall  call  his  na?ne  Emmanuel.  And  Castellio  :  ' '  Ecce 
puella  prajgnans  filium  jiariet,  quem  nomine  vocabit  Emmanue- 
lem."  Beliold  a  pregnant  girl  shall  hnng  foi'th  a  son,  wJiom  she 
shall  call  &c.  For  I  need  not  suggest  to  the  instructed  reader 
the  "laborantes  utero  puellas"  (Hor.  Carm.  III.  xxii. ),  to  con- 

*  That  is,  learn  by  the  wo  of  Ahaz'  bad  reign  to  prefer  good  to  evU. 

+  Cliap.  xi.  is  still  more  prophetic  of  a  Messiah,  and  vv.  3-5  might  well  answer 
for  a  character  of  Jesus.  Are  we  then  to  interpret  it  literally  ?  Has  the  wolf 
indeed  dwelt  with  the  lamb,  and  the  leopard  lain  do^vn  with  the  kid  ?  Doth  the 
lion  eat  sti-aw  like  the  ox?  or  have  all  the  dispersed  of  Judah  [observe,  not  o£ 
Israel  also  ]  been  gathered  together  from  the  four  comers  of  the  earth  ?  In  Chap, 
ix.  6-7,  taking  the  titles  of  the  promised  child,  whose  shoulder  was  to  bear  tho 
government,  as  applicable  to  Jesus,  is  it  true  that  of  the  increase  of  his  govern- 
ment and  peace  there  is  no  end,  on  the  throne  of  David  and  upon  his  kingdom  ? 
or  previouslj-,  ii.  4,  though  Jesus,  through  the  Gospel,  has  indeed  rebuked  many 
people,  has  he  beat  their  swords  into  ploughshares  and  their  spears  into  pruning- 
hooks  ?  Doth  nation  no  longer  lift  up  the  sword  against  nation,  and  is  war  indeed 
then  learned  no  more  ?  Falsus  in  uno,  faUus  in  omtiibtts.  1  do  not  admit  that 
as  a  general  principle  ;  but  in  the  component  parts  of  a  single  passage,  where  tho 
theme  and  the  application  are  one,  it  must  be  allowed  to  hold  good ;  and  it  breaks 
down  at  once  the  entire  fabric  of  prophecy,  or  rather  bursts  the  froth-made  bubble 
whose  contents  are  mere  air. 


IGO  NOTES    TO 


vince  him  of  what  is  otherwise  known,  that  "puella"  does  not 
necessarily  mean  a  maid.  * 

Whichever  of  the  three  versions  is  the  truest  I  cannot  pronounce, 
having  no  knowledge  of  Hebrew ;  but,  taking  any  one  of  them, 
or  all  of  them,  nay,  throwing  aside  what  is  inseparable  in  the  text, 
the  l(jth  verse,  which  points  the  prophecy  inflexibly  to  the  times 
of  Ahaz,  what  have  we  ?  An  unt^^tored  poet's  ill-digested  fancy, 
an  Eastern  enthusiast's  bewildered  and  bewildering  daydream,  the 
swollen  language,  often  noble,  sometimes  grand,  but  always  more 
or  less  exaggerated,  of  a  mind  whose  ill-regulated  imagination  had 
become  by  the  practice  of  its  owner,  whose  pretensions  were  wel- 
comed and  overrated  by  a  barbarous  people,  totally  lawless  of  all 
disciiDhne,  if  not  positively  deranged.  The  thing  is  not  new,  nor 
will  it  probably  be  ever  old.  Not  to  speak  of  oriental  fancies, 
there  is  the  Pollio  of  Virgil  ( Ed.  iv  ),f  which  men  have  had  the 

*  Besides,  in  Isaiah  we  have  "virgin"  used  frequently  without  particular  mean- 
ing. Thus,  xxiii.  12,  —  "  Virgin,  daughter  of  Sidon ; "  xxxvii.  22,  —  "  The  virgin, 
the  daughter  of  Zion  : "  xlvii.  1,  —  "0  virgin,  daughter  of  Babylon  ;  "  for  Sidon, 
Zion,  and  Babylon,  simply.     Compare  Jeremiah  xxxi.  4,  13,  21. 

It  is  to  be  observed  too,  that  he  says  nothing  of  the  mode  of  conception.  It  is 
not  to  be  by  any  divine  interposition,  or  by  intervention  and  agency  of  the  Spirit. 
It  is  merely  to  be  a  generation  out  of  the  ordinary  course  ( if  virgin  is  indeed  used 
in  the  strict  sense ),  according  to  the  ignorance  in  such  matters  of  the  not  very 
rational  prophet ;  an  ignorance  shared  by  many  men  even  in  greatly  later  ages, 
who  supposed  that  conception  might  take  place  without  imiiregnation.  What  for 
example  can  be  more  absurd  than  for  a  writer  on  midwifery  and  its  cognate  sub- 
jects to  doubt  if  a  woman  might  not  by  a  miracle  have  had  3fi5  children  at  a  birth  ? 
Yet  that  seemingly  did  Francis  Maurioeau,  one  of  the  most  renownied,  if  not  the 
most  renowned  obstetrician  of  the  last  decade  of  the  17th  and  the  first  of  the  18th 
Cy.  The  amusing  stoi-y  may  be  found  in  the  Vision  of  Rubeta,  Cto.  II.  59,  60, 
note.  See  too  ( if  it  may  be  allowed  me  to  refer  thus  to  my  own  book )  ib.  87-89 
and  notes. 

+  Cf.,  e.  g.,  "lUe  defim  vitam  accipiet,  etc."  15 — 30;  wherein,  by  the  by,  26 
and  27,  "  At  simul  heroum,  etc."  may  be  likened  to  the  16th  verse  above,  "  For 
before  the  child,  &c."  :  then  40—52.      All  of  which  it  is  the  height  of  folly,  or 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  161 


rashness  to  assert,  or  the  fatiiity  to  believe,  was  suggested  by  the 
Sibyl's  copy  from  the  Jewish  seers.  *  And  Pope  has  gone  so  far 
as  to  t\nst  the  Virgo  Astrcea  into  the  Virgo  Deipara  : 

"  Rapt  into  future  times,  tlic  bard  begun  : 
A  Virgin  shall  conncive,  a  Virgin  bear  a  son  !  " 

superstitious  blindness,  not  to  see  is  but  the  result  of  a  poet's  fancy  seeking 
images  to  fill  up  the  picture  of  a  returning  golden  age.  Without  a  golden  age,  and 
witliout  the  rliapsodies  of  a  single  Jewish  prophet,  any  fanciful  mind  would  with 
a  similar  object  take  a  similar  course,  and  find  it  an  easy  one  for  rapid  and  bold 
running. 

*  See  the  Prolegomena  to  the  Orac.  Sihyllina,  p.  Ixxbc  sq.  Galland.  V.  PP.  I. 
ed.  1705,  where,  besides  a  sophistical  defence  or  apology  of  the  use  made  of  the 
pretended  oracles  by  the  ancient  fathers,  as  Justin  Mai-t.,  Atheuas.,  Tlieoph. 
Antioch.,  Clem.  Alex.,  Lactant.,  et  al.,  the  editor  adduces  the  4th  Eclogue 
as  a  general  prediction,  after  the  ancient  Sibyl,  of  the  birth  of  Christ  and  the  re- 
sults (  never  yet  realized  )  thence  to  flow  to  a  regenerated  world.  Previously 
( Ixxvii ),  it  is  not  attempted  to  deny  that  the  author  was  a  judaizing  Christian. 
Indeed  this  would  be  difficult ;  for  the  probability  is  obvious  in  the  very  fir.st  book 
of  the  Oracula, — the  poet  giving  us  a  rythmical  summary  of  the  chief  points 
of  the  Mosaic  history,  u'ith  the  names  of  the  patriarchs  from  Adam  down. 
But  to  suppose,  as  is  done,  that  the  author  incorporated  many  things  from  the 
old  heathen  oracles  into  his  collection,  is  assuming  a  very  great  deal.  Nothing 
is  known  with  certainty  as  to  their  composition,  which  is  in  Greek  heroic  verse, 
except  perhaps  that  they  had  their  origin  in  Alexandria.  Their  authenticity  was 
easily  suspected  by  several  of  the  Church-fathers.  But  the  Christians  generally 
putting  faith  in  them,  and,  whether  putting  faith  in  them  or  not,  often  citing 
tliem,  as  above  intimated,  were,  by  heathens  as  credulous  as  themselves,  derided 
as  Sibyllists.  In  modern  collections  they  are  arranged  in  eight  books,  and  may 
be  found  in  GaUandius  ut  «.,  with  the  Latin  hexameter  version  of  Castalio.  Gro- 
tius  regarded  even  the  ancient  ones  mentioned  in  Roman  history  as  the  composi- 
tions of  Jews.  See,  in  Ori(/.  c.  CeUum  lib.  v.,  a  note  on  this  subject,  p.  025  t.  i. 
Op.  ed.  Delarue  s.  cit. 

One  thing  is  worth  noticing  in  this  place  as  corroljorative  of  what  I  have  said 
as  to  the  Ebionitish  or  monotheistic  faith  of  the  2d  Cy.     In  Lib.  i.  5,  we  have ; 

'Os  ixovo<:  ecTTi  fleos  KTi(7Tr)s,  aicpaTijTos  virapxiav 
and  the  date  assigned  to  the  rhapsody  is  c.  An.  130. 


162  NOTES    TO 

This  is  finer  than  Isaiah ;  but  it  is  quite  as  extravagant,  and  is  a 
scarcely  justifiable  misrepresentation  of  one  who  was  greater  than 
either  Pope  or  Isaiah.  * 

To  explain  the  origin  of  the  idea  of  an  immaculate  conception 
would  carry  me  too  far,  who  already  have  expended  precious  time 
on  the  inanities  of  a  theme, 

Caught  from  the  vaporiiigs  of  a  prophet's  brain 
And  poet's  myth,  the  impossible  monstrous  form 
Of  Asian  fiction,  and  the  insane  idea 
Of  minds  aspiring  to  be  gi-eat  in  phrase 
By  superclimbing  naturo. 

It  is  sufficient  to  refer  the  reader  for  comparison  to  the  well- 
known  phrase  of  David  as  to  ordinary  procreation.  "Behold,  I 
was  shapen  in  iniquity,  and  in  sin  did  my  mother  conceive  me :  " 
{Equidem  in  mtio  genittts  sum,  ct  in  feccato  me  concepit  mea 
mater.    Cast.)    Ps.  li.  5. 

82.— P.  80.     Behold,     To  obey  etc.]     \  Samuel  xx.  22. 

33. — P.  80.  Thus  Jehovah  saith,  etc.]  See  IsaiaJii.  11,  13, 
14. —    Wilkinson   {Anc.  Bgi/ps.  v.   288,   note)    has   compared 

*  Quere.  Does  not  the  child,  with  the  prophet,  mean  the  good  king  Hezekiah, 
son  of  Ahaz  ?  and  may  not  the  term  virgin,  or  girl,  be  used  to  intimate  both  the 
mother's  youth  and  her  first  -paxtavitian,— virgin,  that  is,  when  brought  to 
Ahaz  ?  The  name  Imnianuel  is  merely  indicative  of  the  felicity  to  come  by  the 
providence  of  God,  to  whom  the  child  would  be  acceptable.  —  It  is  not  unlikely 
that  these  predictions  were  written  after  the  event  and  ascribed  to  Isaiah,  or 
altered  so  as  to  suit  the  event.  But  in  either  case  it  is  beyond  any  reasonable 
doubt  that  they  were  intended  for  some  future  king  of  Judah,  of  the  line  of 
David.  Thus  the  Gospel,  or  its  interpolators,  have  resorted  after  the  manner  of 
the  O.  T.  to  the  trick  of  a  genealogy,  to  establish  a  descent  wliich  they  deemed 
necessary  to  the  claim  of  the  Messiah. 


THE    NEW    CALVARY  163 


the  new-moon  festivals  and  solemn  assemblies  of  the  Egyptians 
with  those  bearing  a  similar  name  with  the  Hebrews,  as  seen 
in  the  passage  of  Isaiah  referred  to.  Undoubtedly  these  last  had 
their  origin  in  the  former,  or  rather  were  but  a  continuation  of 
the  customary  celebrations.  And  there  are  few  observances,  na- 
tional antii^athies,  superstitious  prejudices,  or  even  pious  pre- 
cepts, from  the  extravagant  abhorrence  of  swine  to  the  whole- 
some reverence  of  parents,  that  might  not  be  traced  more  or  less 
directly  to  the  same  ancestral  source.  In  fact,  it  is  high  time 
that  the  8000  years'  fiction  of  the  Jews'  originating  a  new  reli- 
gion, or  of  receiving  it  primordiaUy  from  Heaven,  should  be  ex- 
ploded. They  revived  a  dead  one,  and  freed  it  of  much  of  the 
scurf  of  its  grave ;  and  that  is  praise  enough. 

34. — P.  89.     And  vianaging  to  climb  the  southern  wall — ]     To 

it  Tcraprov  avrov    itercoiroVj  to   wpo;  jieatfi^piav^   k.  t.  A.       But   thC  fourth 

front  thereof  [  of  the  Temple],  that  faced  the  south^  had  not  only 
gates  in  its  middle  spaces^  but  upon  it  the  royal  triple  portico,  which 
extended  lengthwise  from  the  eastern  valley  to  the  western  ;  for  far- 
ther it  could  not  possibly  go.  And  the  icoi'k  icas  of  those  most  icorthy 
of  mention  under  the  sun;  for  wliile  the  wall  tluit  fortified  the 
valley  was  itself  of  so  great  height,  that  it  did  not  suffer  one  to 
see  doion  into  the  depth  who  from  above  should  lean  over  to  look  to 
the  bottom,  it  had  upon  it  the  exceeding  height  of  the  portico,  so  that 
if,  taking  both  together,  one  should  frmn  the  top  of  the  roof  of  the 
portico  endeavor  to  eiplore  the  depth,  his  head  icoidd  swim,  Ids  dark- 
ening virion  not  being  able  to  reach  to  the  unfathomable  bottom. 
Antiq.  Jud.  xv.  xi.  5.  The  reader  will  know  how  to  make 
allowance  for  the  habitual  exaggeration  of  the  describer. 

35. ~P.  108.  My  Ood!  my  God  !  JIoxci  long  wilt  Thou  forsake 
me?}  '■'■Eli,  di,  lama  sabactJiani?  That  is,  'My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? '     Or,  ' how  long  a  time 


164  NOTES  TO  THE  NEW  CALVARY 


hast   thou   forsaken  me!'    as   the  words  may   be  rendered." 
Wright's  Life  of  Chnst,  (Lond.  in  fol.  1782),  p.  269. 

I  have  therefore  made  an  error  of  memory,  in  supposing 
that  the  grandly  pathetic  words  might  be  interpreted  as  in  the 
text.  But  it  is  inconsequential;  the  spirit,  almost  the  very 
sense,  are  the  same.  And  in  either  form  of  words,  that  spirit, 
or  that  sense  ( including  of  course  the  impassioned  cry  to  God), 
may  of  itself  be  considered  decisive  of  the  simple  humanity  of 
the  sufferer.  * 

*  And  even  if  he  did  not  utter  them  ( for  it  is  noteworthy  that  neither  Luke  nor 
John  has  any  such  expression,  — and  it  is  too  remarkable  to  have  been  forgotten  or 
overloolved ),  they  may  be  taken  as  additional  Gospel  evidence  of  the  fact,  that 
the  heathenish  belief  of  the  divinity  of  Christ  was  not  known  to  the  Apostles.  Cf. 
Lnke  xxiv.  19. 


List  of  Mr.  Osbom's  Plays 

Comprised  in  the  present  seven  volumes  of  the  Scries. 

[  The  names  in  Italics  are  of  those  alreadi/  published.  ] 

Volume  I. 
Calmry :  Virginia:  Bianca  Capcllo  ( wth  Historical  Appendices). 
Tragedies. 

Volume  II. 
Ugo  da  Este:   Vberto:  The  Cidof  Seville  (with  Critical  Analyses 
of  the  Edrella  of  Lope  and  Sancho  Ortiz  of  Tri^ieros ) :  The  Last 
Mandevilk :  The  IlcarVs  Sacrifice :  The  Monk :  Matilda  of  Den- 
mark.    Tragedies. 

Volume  III. 
Melcagros :    Deianeira :    Palamedes :    CEnone  :    Pyrrhus,  Son   of 
Achilles.     Tragedies. 

Volume  IV. 
The  Silver  Head:    The  Double  Deceit: ''The  Moiitanini:    The 
School  for  Critics.     Comedies. 

Volume  V. 
7%e  Magnctiser :    The  Prodigal :  Ilis  Uncle's  Heir :    The  Dead 
Alive .     Comedies  in  Prose. 

Volume  VI. 
The  Neto  Calvary  :   Mariamne  :    Esther  :    Saul :    Samson  :   Jcph- 
thah.     Tragedies. 

Volume  VII. 
The  Cavalier:   The  Altar  of  Duty:  Henry  III.  of  France  :  Henry 
IV.  of  France :  Joanna  of  Naples.     Tragedies. 


Now  ready,  and  to  be  had  separately,  Vols.  I.  IT.  and  IV. 
For  sale  by  The  American  News  Company, 

117,  119,  121  Nassau-street. 


"'4^;