assumes the Messianic character before the woman of Samaria and before the man born blind. In His more elaborate discourses He speaks of Himself as the Son (for instance, in chap. v.), and in other places by some metaphorical expression calculated to bring out some one special aspect of His character. Thus when He speaks of Himself in chap. vi. as the Bread of Life, the expression serves to emphasize His relation to the Old Covenant (in that He was the reality, of which the manna in the wilderness was the shadow), and to point out the position which He must occupy in the New Dispensation. He must be the food of the Israel of God-their life must depend on their sharing His. Again, He is the Water of Life, the Light of the World, the Door of the new society, the Good Shepherd. And in all these there is implied very obviously a wholly special claim. He is indeed sent by the Father to perform a certain work in the world, but His unity with the Father is never broken. He can do nothing of Himself, but then the Father shows Him all things that He doeth. There is never any question as to who the Father may be. It is clear to all-to the Jews as well as to the Apostles-that God is meant. So we read (chap. v. 18) that the Jews sought to kill Him, because He not only used to break the Sabbath (ëλve) but called God His own Father (Tarépa totov), making Himself equal with God. Thus S. John clearly represents Him as claiming an equality with God, and a special mediatorial position between God and man.

In making these claims, our Lord was not devoid of witness. In the Synoptists, as before, we have bare facts mentioned, occasions described when witness was borne to our Lord; whereas in S. John the idea of witness is

elaborately developed throughout the whole Gospel. There is (1) in the Synoptic account the witness of the angel Gabriel, and the heavenly host; of prophecy, (specially emphasized in S. Matthew), of Simeon, of Anna, and of the Magi; of S. John the Baptist; and even of the evil spirits whom our Lord cast out from men. And the witness of all these is consentient. It tends towards one result, that Christ was more than man. Twice there is mentioned in all three Gospels a witness of the Father to the Son-at His baptism and at His transfiguration. On both occasions the witness is definite: This is my Beloved Son.'

(2) In S. John the witness which is alleged as bearing on our Lord's nature is sevenfold. Its significance has been elaborately drawn out by Bishop Westcott in the introduction to his commentary on the fourth Gospel, pp. xlv. - xlvii. We need only summarize it here. It comprises (1) the witness of the Father, (2) of Christ Himself, (3) of works, (4) of the Scriptures, (5) of the forerunner, (6) of disciples, (7) of the Holy Spirit. Of these, the last two belong rather to the history of the Church. They are the integral elements of the abiding witness of the Church to Christ, and we have not as yet to do with this. The witness of Scripture and the forerunner are in S. John very much what they are in the other Gospels. At least the differences which are noticeable are not sufficiently important to require special and detailed treatment here. The witness of works covers more than the miracles; it includes the whole area of the works which Christ did as man. And the witness they bore consisted in their revealing the character of Him who performed them. Here, too, we do not depart very

widely from the position of the Synoptists. But in the description of the witness of the Father, and of Christ Himself, there is a peculiarly Johannine ring. The witness of Christ Himself is to be trusted, not because He has a right to expect the world to accept His own account of Himself-that would be the method of the self-commissioned prophets whom the Jews would understand-but because He knows whence He came and whither He goes. He gives witness to the Father who had sent Him, of His own knowledge, and therefore the witness of Christ to Himself lies in His conscious communion with the Father. The witness of the Father is more difficult to follow and understand. Christ appeals to it as greater than the witness of John the Baptist, and does not identify it with the witness of Scripture. Its force is realized by those whose will is at one with that of the Father, and not by others. And it emerges in the coincidence of which Christ is sure, and which the faithful recognize, between the ministry of Christ and the will of the Father. Thus it is internal, as appearing in the consciousness of our Lord Himself, and of those to whom His work appeals.

The Gospels represent our Lord, then, as being both human and Divine. They offer no solution of the mystery which such an idea involves: it is presented as a mere piece of history. The Divine characteristics enter the story as naturally and simply as the human : there is no discernible effort whatever to separate, or to apportion them, or to merge one nature in the other. The Passion is as natural, falls into its place as readily, as the Transfiguration or the Resurrection. That the Gospels as they stand present this view of our Lord's Person, few scholars of the present day would dispute.

But the difficulty of the idea is so great that various expedients have been adopted in various ages in order to avoid it. In the preface to the last edition (1890) of his Bampton Lectures (p. xxvi.) Dr. Liddon has pointed out that Unitarianism has considerably changed its ground of recent years. Formerly it contested the Catholic interpretation of the Gospels, now it assails the integrity of the Gospels themselves. Both methods depend, in part, on a priori considerations, to the investigation of which we must now turn.

II. When the claims of Christ in the Gospels are put to us, there arise naturally a certain number of questions before we give in our assent. We may ask, first, whether such a thing is possible on general grounds; or, secondly, whether it is proved by satisfactory historical evidence.

(1) To ask whether such a thing as the Incarnation is possible on general grounds is to ask a very bold question, and it is a question which involves several others. Such an inquiry can only have a meaning in connexion with a theory as to the Nature of God. To ask whether the Incarnation is possible is really to ask whether God can make a special revelation of Himself, whether He is not revealed only and always in order, natural or moral, never in miracle? That this is so may be easily proved by any one who cares to study the current arguments against the Incarnation. It is always urged that our modern notions of the dignity and rationality of firm and constant order prevent our adopting any of those views of God which represent Him as changeable, capable of using expedients to produce special ends, which apparently were not included in the original plan. Miracles, revelations, and the like, it

is argued, must imply weakness and want of foresight, else why should the occasion for them ever have arisen?

It would be easy to retort upon this position, if a retort were all that were needed, that the question must be discussed after we have considered the historical evidence for the Incarnation. If it be true that Christ was incarnate Son of God, our notion of the Divine Being, whatever it may have been, must be modified to suit that: the theoretical question is involved in the settlement of the historic fact. And there would be a real though only a partial truth in the answer. But we must not forget that there is considerable room for explanation and readjustment in the mere statement of the problem; and this, though perhaps not conclusive in itself, will at any rate prepare the way for the historical discussion. Let us ask this question then, How does the Incarnation, and the miracles it involves, stand in regard to the order of nature? Does it involve a sharp and sudden breach? and, if so, of what order, and of what nature?1

It would be difficult to find words more ambiguous and liable to misapprehension than nature and its various derivations-supernatural, etc. We are rarely certain when we use them what nature it is to which we are alluding. In one sense the natural world means all the created order, with the exception of man in his higher aspects. All the laws of the animate and inanimate world, except perhaps those of mind and will, fall under the head of nature in this limited sense. It is true that the science which deals with all these things is enlarging its borders, and threatening to engulf the whole nature of man; but this effort has not yet fully taken effect 1 See above, Chap. I. p. 46.