degree invented, is a circumstantial detail of minute particulars.

Generality is the cloak of fiction.

Minuteness is

the natural manner of truth, in proportion to the importance and interest of the subject. Such is the precise manner and continual evidence of the honesty of St. John. His history is full of the most minute circumstances of time, place, and persons. Does he record, for example, the resuscitation of Lazarus? He tells the name of the village, and describes the particular spot where the event occurred. He gives the names of some of the principal individuals who were present, mentions many unbelieving Jews as eye-witnesses, states the precise object for which they had come to the place, what they did and said, the time the body had been buried, how the sepulchre was constructed and closed, the impression which the event made upon the Jews, how they were divided in opinion in consequence of it, the particular expressions of one of them whose name is given, and the subsequent conduct of the Jews in regard to Lazarus. This, you perceive, is being very circumstantial. It is only a specimen of the general character of St. John's gospel. It looks very much as if the writer were not afraid of any thing the people of Bethany, or the survivors of those who had been present at the tomb of Lazarus, or the children of any of them, might have to say with regard to the resurrection. Now, when you consider that John's history was widely circulated while many were yet living in Bethany, who, had these events never occurred, must

have known it, and among a people who in addition to every facility had every desire to find out the least departure from truth, I think you will acknowledge that the circumstantial character of this book is very strong evidence that the author must have written. in the confidence of truth.

2. Another striking evidence to the same point. is seen in this, that the author exhibits no consciousness of narrating any thing about which, as a matter of notorious fact, there was the smallest doubt. He takes no pains, evinces no thought of attempting to convince his reader of the truth of what he relates. On the contrary, the whole narrative is conducted with the manner and aspect of one who takes for granted the entire notoriety of his statements. He comes before the public as one familiarly known, needing no account of himself or of his pretensions to universal confidence. He goes straight forward with his story, delivering the least and the most wonderful relations in the same simple and unembarrassed manner of ease and confidence, which nothing but an assurance of unimpeachable consistency can explain. Nothing is said to account for what might seem inexplicable to defend what would probably be cavilled at-to anticipate objections which one feeling himself on questionable ground would naturally look for. The writer seems to be conscious, that with regard to those for whom especially he wrote, all this were needless. He is willing to commit his simple. statement alone, undefended, unvarnished, into the hands of friend or foe.

Nothing is more remarkable in this connection, than that while he could not have been ignorant that he was relating many very extraordinary and wonderful events, he shows no wonder in his own mind, and seems to expect no wonder among his readers. This looks exceedingly like one who writes, not of extraordinary events just contrived in his own imagination, but of extraordinary events which, whatever the wonder they excited when first known, are now perfectly familiar not only to himself, but to his readers. It is one thing to relate a series of astonishing occurrences which we feel are perfectly new to the readers, and a very different thing to relate the same to those who have long since been familiarly acquainted with their prominent particulars, and desire only a more circumstantial and confidential account. In the former case, the writer would naturally and almost necessarily betray in his style and the whole texture of his statement an expectation of the wonder and probable incredulity of his readers. In the latter, he would deliver his narrative as if he were thinking only of an accurate detail of truth, without particular reference to whether it were astonishing or the contrary. Thus it is with St. John. There is no appearance of his having felt as if any of his gospel would be new, or would excite any new emotions of wonder in his readers. The marvellous works of Christ were at that time notorious. When first heard of, they excited universal astonishment. "His fame went abroad, and all the people were amazed." But so much time had now elapsed, that emotions of

wonder had subsided, under the influence of repetition and familiarity. In striking consistency with this is the whole aspect of St. John's narrative. He goes directly forward in the relation of events, in themselves exceedingly impressive and astonishing, exhibiting no sign of any astonishment in his own mind, anticipating none in his contemporaneous readers. How is this to be explained? One can discover no plausible explanation but in the supposition that he was conscious of recording events with which, in their chief particulars, the public mind had been entirely familiarized. This may deservedly be considered a strong indication of truth.

3. I see another plain evidence to the same point, in the minute accuracy which marks all the allusions of this narrative to the manners, customs, opinions, political events, and other circumstances of the times. The situation of Judea in the time of the Saviour, was such as to bring it frequently under the eye of the profane writers of that age. From them we derive a great many particulars, illustrating the several modifications effected in the civil and religious institutions of the Jews by their subjection to Rome. And thus we have a great many points of comparison between the gospel history and the other histories of the same times. The former contains innumerable references to the peculiarities then existing in the Jewish state-its laws, courts, punishments, as well as to the opinions, prejudices, and customs then prevailing. This was dangerous ground for the inventor of a story. The continual fluctuations in public

affairs, the numerous and complex changes in the supreme officers of Judea and the neighboring provinces, as well as in the boundaries and character of their governments, within the period embraced in the gospel history, must have added greatly to the difficulty of an inventor of a narrative located in such circumstances, and filled with allusions to them. We have a Jewish historian of the same age, with which to confront the gospel history. Josephus has furnished us with a full and minute account of those internal affairs of the Jews, both civil and religious, to which allusions are made in the gospel history. It would be evidently very far beyond the limits of a lecture to attempt a proof that all the minutest allusions in our sacred history are not only uncontradicted, but wherever the same things are spoken of, are positively confirmed by the secular authority to which we have referred; but we assert it as a fact well known to every student of the gospel history, and of which any who have the disposition to examine the question may easily be satisfied. Now, it seems to me it would have been next to impossible for the inventor of a story exciting such general and intense interest, branching out into such circumstantial details, and connected at so many points with the peculiarities of the times, to tread upon ground so covered with snares without being caught.*

* For this description of evidence the reader will find much very instructive and useful matter in a recent work entitled, Undesigned Coincidences in the Writings both of the Old and New Testaments, an Argument for their Veracity," by the Rev. J. J. Blunt, B. D., Prof. of Divinity, Cambridge, Eng.