(6.) The epitomizer however, missing the point of his Author,-besides enumerating _all_ the appearances of our SAVIOUR which S. Luke anywhere records,-is further convicted of having injudiciously _invented_ the negative statement about S. Mark"s Gospel which is occasioning us all this trouble.
(7.) And yet, by that unlucky sentence of his, he certainly did not mean what is commonly imagined. I am not concerned to defend him: but it is only fair to point out that, to suppose he intended _to disallow the end of S. Mark"s Gospel_, is altogether to misapprehend the gist of his remarks, and to impute to him a purpose of which he clearly knew nothing.
Note, how he throws his first two statements into a separate paragraph; contrasts, and evidently _balances_ one against the other: thus,-
?at? ??????, et? t?? ???stas?? ?? ???eta? ?f?a?,-?at? ?at?a??? et? t??
???stas?? ?f??,-t??? a??ta?? ?? t? Ga???a??.
Perfectly evident is it that the "plena locutio" so to speak, of the Writer would have been somewhat as follows:-
"[The first two Evangelists are engaged with our SAVIOUR"S appearance to His Disciples _in Galilee_: but] by S. Mark, He is _not_-by S. Matthew, He _is_-related to have been actually _seen_ by them there.
"[The other two Evangelists relate the appearances _in Jerusalem_: and]
according to S. John, &c. &c.
"According to S. Luke," &c. &c.
(8.) And on pa.s.sing the "Quaestiones ad Marinum" of Eusebius under review, I am constrained to admit that the Scholion before us is just such a clumsy bit of writing as an unskilful person might easily be betrayed into, who should attempt to exhibit in a few short sentences the substance of more than one tedious disquisition of this ancient Father.(585) Its remote parentage would fully account for its being designated "s??????
e?se???" all the same.
(9.) Least of all am I concerned to say anything more about the longer Scholion; seeing that S. Mark is not so much as mentioned in it. But I may as well point out that, _as it stands_, Eusebius cannot have been its Author: the proof being, that whereas the Scholion in question is a note on S. John xxi. 12, (as Matthaei is careful to inform us,)-its opening sentence is derived _from Chrysostom"s Commentary on that same verse_ in his 87th Homily on S. John.(586)
(10.) And thus, one by one, every imposing statement of the Critics is observed hopelessly to collapse as soon as it is questioned, and to vanish into thin air.
So much has been offered, only because of the deliberate pledge I gave in p. 51.-Never again, I undertake to say, will the "Scholion of Eusebius"
which has cost my friend at Moscow, his Archimandrites, and me, so much trouble, be introduced into any discussion of the genuineness of the last Twelve Verses of the Gospel according to S. Mark. As the oversight of one (C. F. Matthaei) who was singularly accurate, and towards whom we must all feel as towards a Benefactor, let it be freely forgiven as well as loyally forgotten!
L"ENVOY
As one, escaped the bustling trafficking town, Worn out and weary, climbs his favourite hill And thinks it Heaven to see the calm green fields Mapped out in beautiful sunlight at his feet: Or walks enraptured where the fitful south Comes past the beans in blossom; and no sight Or scent or sound but fills his soul with glee:- So I,-rejoicing once again to stand Where Siloa"s brook flows softly, and the meads Are all enamell"d o"er with deathless flowers, And Angel voices fill the dewy air.
Strife is so hateful to me! most of all A strife of words about the things of G.o.d.
Better by far the peasant"s uncouth speech Meant for the heart"s confession of its hope.
Sweeter by far in village-school the words But half remembered from the Book of Life, Or scarce articulate lispings of the Creed.
And yet, three times that miracle of Spring The grand old tree that darkens Exeter wall Hath decked itself with blossoms as with stars, Since I, like one that striveth unto death, Find myself early and late and oft all day Engaged in eager conflict for G.o.d"S Truth; G.o.d"S Truth, to be maintained against Man"s lie.
And lo, my brook which widened out long since Into a river, threatens now at length To burst its channel and become a sea.
O Sister, who ere yet my task is done Art lying (my loved Sister!) in thy shroud With a calm placid smile upon thy lips As thou wert only "taking of rest in sleep,"
Soon to wake up to ministries of love,- Open those lips, kind Sister, for my sake In the mysterious place of thy sojourn, (For thou must needs be with the bless"d,-yea, where The pure in heart draw wondrous nigh to G.o.d,) And tell the Evangelist of thy brother"s toil; Adding (be sure!) "He found it his reward, Yet supplicates thy blessing and thy prayers, The blessing, saintly Stranger, of thy prayers, Sure at the least unceasingly of mine!"
One other landed on the eternal sh.o.r.e!
One other garnered into perfect peace!
One other hid from hearing and from sight!...
O but the days go heavily, and the toil Which used to seem so pleasant yields scant joy.
There come no tokens to us from the dead: Save-it may be-that now and then we reap Where not we sowed, and _that_ may be from _them_, Fruit of their prayers when we forgot to pray!
Meantime there comes no message, comes no word: Day after day no message and no sign: And the heart droops, and finds that it was Love Not Fame it longed for, lived for: only Love.
CANTERBURY.