Illustration: (‡ Syriac word)

(_sekharyut_,) “_a bag_,” or “_purse_;” root cognate with the

Hebrew סכר (_sakhar_.) No. 1, Gibbs’s Hebrew Lexicon, and סגר

(_sagar_,) Syrian & Arabic _id._ The word thus derived must

mean the “_bag-man_,” the “_purser_,” which is a most happy

illustration of John’s account of the office of Judas, (xii. 6:

xiii. 29.) It is, in short, a name descriptive of his peculiar

duty in receiving the money of the common stock of Christ and

his apostles, buying the necessary provisions, administering

their common charities to the poor, and managing all their

pecuniary affairs,――performing all the duties of that officer

who in English is called a “steward.” Judas ISCARIOT, or rather

“_Scariot_,” means therefore “Judas the STEWARD.”

The _second_ derivation proposed is that of Junius, (_Parall._)

who refers it to a sense descriptive of his fate. The Syriac,

Hebrew, and Arabic root, סכר (_sakar_,) has in the first of these

languages, the secondary signification of “_strangle_,” and the

personal substantive derived from it, might therefore mean, “one

who was strangled.” Lightfoot says that if this theme is to be

adopted, he should prefer to trace the name to the word אשכרא

which with the Rabbinical writers is used in reference to the

same primitive, in the meaning of “strangulation.” But both

these, even without regarding the great aptness of the first

definition above given, may be condemned on their own demerits;

because, they suppose either that this name was applied to him,

only _after_ his death,――an exceedingly unnatural view,――or

(what is vastly more absurd) that he was thus named during his

life-time, by a _prophetical anticipation_, that he would die

by the halter!!! It is not very uncommon, to be sure, for such

charitable prophetic inferences to be drawn respecting the

character and destiny of the graceless, and the point of some

vulgar proverbs consists in this very allusion, but the utmost

stretch of such predictions never goes to the degree of fixing

upon the hopeful candidate for the gallows, a surname drawn from

this comfortable anticipation of his destiny. Besides, it is

hard to believe that a man wearing thus, as it were, a halter

around his neck, would have been called by Jesus into the goodly

fellowship of the apostles; for though neither rank, nor wealth,

nor education, nor refinement were requisites for admission, yet

a tolerable good moral character may be fairly presumed to have

been an indispensable qualification.

The _third_ derivation is of such a complicated and far-fetched

character, that it bears its condemnation on its own face. It is

that of the learned Tremellius, who attempts to analyze Iscariot

into שכר (_seker_,) “wages,” “reward,” and נטה (_natah_,) “turn

away,” alluding to the fact that for money he revolted from his

Master. This, besides its other difficulties, supposes that the

name was conferred after his death; whereas he must certainly

have needed during his life, some appellative to distinguish him

from Judas the brother of James.

The _fourth_ is that of Grotius and Erasmus, who derive it from

איש יששכר (_Ish Issachar_,) “a man of Issachar,”――supposing the

name to designate his tribe, just as the same phrase occurs in

Judges x. 1. But all these distinctions of origin from the ten

tribes must have been utterly lost in the time of Christ; nor

does any instance occur of a Jew of the apostolic age being

named from his supposed tribe.

The _fifth_ is the one suggested and adopted by Lightfoot. In

the Talmudic Hebrew, the word סקורטיא (_sekurti_,)――also written

with an initial א (_aleph_) and pronounced _Iscurti_,――has the

meaning of “_leather_ apron;” and this great Hebraician proposes

therefore, to translate the name, “Judas _with the leather

apron_;” and suggests some aptness in such a personal appendage,

because in such aprons they had pockets or bags in which money,

&c. might be carried. The whole derivation, however, is forced

and far-fetched,――doing great violence to the present form

of the word, and is altogether unworthy of the genius of its

inventor, who is usually very acute in etymologies.

The _sixth_ is that of Beza, Piscator and Hammond, who make it

איש־קריות (_Ish-Qerioth_ or _Kerioth_,) “a man of _Kerioth_,” a

city of Judah. (Joshua xv. 25.) Beza says that a very ancient MS.

of the Greek New Testament, in his possession, (above referred

to,) in all the five passages in John, where Judas is mentioned,

has this surname written απο Καριωτου. (_apo Cariotou_,)

“Judas _of Kerioth_.” Lucas Brugensis observes, that this

form of expression is used in Ezra ii. 22, 23, where the “men

of Anathoth,” &c. are spoken of; but there is no parallelism

whatever between the two cases; because in the passage quoted

it is a mere general designation of the inhabitants of a

place,――nor can any passage be shown in which it is thus

appended to a man’s name, by way of surname. The peculiarity of

Beza’s MS. is therefore undoubtedly an unauthorized perversion

by some ancient copyist; for it is not found on any other

ancient authority.

The motives which led such a man to join himself to the followers of

the self-denying Nazarene, of course could not have been of a very

high order; yet probably were about as praiseworthy as those of any

of the followers of Jesus. Not one of the chosen disciples of Jesus

is mentioned in the solemnly faithful narrative of the evangelists, as

inspired by a self-denying principle of action. Wherever an occasion

appeared on which their true motives and feelings could be displayed,

they all without exception, manifested the most sordid selfishness,

and seemed inspired by no idea whatever but that of worldly honors,

triumphs, and rewards to be won in his service! Peter, indeed, is not

very distinctly specified as betraying any remarkable regard for his

own individual interest, and on several occasions manifested, certainly

by starts, much of a true self-sacrificing devotion to his Master; yet

his great views in following Jesus were unquestionably of an ambitious

order, and his noblest conception was that of a worldly triumph of a

Messiah, in which the chosen ones were to have a share proportioned no

doubt to their exertions for its attainment. The two Boanerges betrayed

the most determined selfishness, in scheming for a lion’s share in

the spoils of victory; and the whole body of the disciples, on more

than one occasion, quarreled among themselves about the first places

in Christ’s kingdom. Judas therefore, was not greatly worse than

his fellow-disciples,――no matter how bad may have been his motives;

and probably at the beginning maintained a respectable stand among

them, unless occasion might have betrayed to them the fact, that he

was mean in money matters. But he, after espousing the fortunes of

Jesus, doubtless went on scheming for his own advancement, just as

the rest did for theirs, except that probably, when those of more

liberal conceptions were contriving great schemes for the attainment

of power, honor, fame, titles, and glory, both military and civil,

his penny-saving soul was reveling in golden dreams, and his thoughts

running delightedly over the prospects of vast gain to be reaped in

the confiscation of the property of the wealthy Pharisees and lawyers,

that would ensue immediately on the establishment of the empire of

the Nazarene and his Galileans. While the great James and his amiable

brother were quarreling with the rest of the fraternity about the

premierships,――the highest administration of spiritual and temporal

power,――the discreetly calculating Iscariot was doubtless expecting

the fair results of a regular course of promotion, from the office

of bag-carrier to the strolling company of Galileans, to the stately

honors and immense emoluments of lord high-treasurer of the new kingdom

of Israel; his advancement naturally taking place in the line in which

he had made his first beginning in the service of his Lord, he might

well expect that in those very particulars where he had shown himself

faithful in few things, he would be made ruler over many things, when

he should enter into the joy of his Lord,――sharing the honors and

profits of His exaltation, as he had borne his part in the toils and

anxieties of his humble fortunes. The careful management of his little

stewardship, “bearing the bag, and what was put therein,” and “buying

those things that were necessary” for all the wants of the brotherhood

of Jesus,――was a service of no small importance and merit, and

certainly would deserve a consideration at the hands of his Master.

Such a trust also, certainly implied a great confidence of Jesus in

his honesty and discretion in money matters, and shows not only the

blamelessness of his character in those particulars, but the peculiar

turn of his genius, in being selected, out of the whole twelve, for

this very responsible and somewhat troublesome function.

Yet the eyes of the Redeemer were by no means closed to the baser

inclinations of this much-trusted disciple. He knew (for what did he

not know?) how short was the step from the steady adherence to the

practice of a particular virtue, to the most scandalous breach of honor

in that same line of action,――how slight, and easy, and natural was

the perversion of a truly mean soul, or even one of respectable and

honorable purposes, from the honest pursuit of gain, to the absolute

disregard of every circumstance but personal advantage, and safety

from the punishment of crime,――a change insensibly resulting from the

total absorption of the soul in one solitary object and aim; for in all

such cases, the honesty is not the _purpose_; it is only an incidental

principle, occasionally called in to regulate the modes and means of

the grand acquisition;――but _gain_ is the great end and essence of

such a life, and the forgetfulness of every other motive, when occasion

suggests, is neither unnatural nor surprising. With all this and vastly

more knowledge, Jesus was well able to discriminate the different

states of mind in which the course of his discipleship found this

calculating follower. He doubtless traced from day to day, and from

week to week, and from month to month, as well as from year to year

of his weary pilgrimage, the changes of zeal, resolution and hope,

into distaste and despair, as the day of anticipated reward for these

sacrifices seemed farther and farther removed, by the progress of

events. The knowledge too, of the manner in which these depraved

propensities would at last develope themselves, is distinctly expressed

in the remark which he made in reply to Peter’s declaration of the

fidelity and devotion of himself and his fellow disciples, just

after the miracle of feeding the five thousand by the lake, when some

renounced the service of Christ, disgusted with the revelations which

he there made to them of the spiritual nature of his kingdom, and

its rewards, and of the difficult and disagreeable requisites for his

discipleship. Jesus seeing the sad defection of the worldly, turned

to the twelve and said, “Will ye also go away?” Simon Peter, with ever

ready zeal replied, “Lord! to whom shall we go but unto thee? For thou

only hast the words of eternal life.” Jesus answered them, “Have I

not chosen you twelve, and one of you is an _accuser_?” This reply,

as John in recording it remarks, alluded to Judas Iscariot, the son

of Simon; for he it was that was to betray him, though he was one of

the twelve. He well knew that on no ear would these revelations of the

pure spiritualism of his kingdom, and of the self-denying character of

his service, fall more disagreeably than on that of the money-loving

steward of the apostolic family, whose hopes would be most wofully

disappointed by the uncomfortable prospects of recompense, and whose

thoughts would be henceforth contriving the means of extricating

himself from all share in this hopeless enterprise. Still he did

not, like those mal-contents who were not numbered among the twelve,

openly renounce his discipleship, and return to the business which

he had left for the deceptive prospect of a profitable reward. He

found himself too deeply committed to do this with advantage, and he

therefore discontentedly continued to follow his great summoner, until

an opportunity should occur of leaving this undesirable service, with

a chance of some immediate profit in the exchange. Nor did he yet,

probably, despair entirely of some more hopeful scheme of revolution

than was now held up to view. He might occasionally have been led to

hope, that these gloomy announcements were but a trial of the constancy

of the chosen, and that all things would yet turn out as their high

expectations had planned. In the occasional remarks of Jesus, there was

also much, which an unspiritual and sordid hearer, might very naturally

construe into a more comfortable accomplishment of his views, and in

which such a one would think he found the distinct expression of the

real purposes of Jesus in reference to the reward of his disciples.

Such an instance, was the reply made to Peter when he reminded his

Master of the great pecuniary sacrifices which they had all made in

his service: “Lo! we have left all, and followed thee.” The assurances

contained in the reply of Jesus, that among other things, those who

had left houses and lands for his sake, should receive a hundred fold

more in the day of his triumph, must have favorably impressed the

baser-minded, with some idea of a real, solid return for the seemingly

unprofitable investment which they had made in his scheme. Or, on the

other hand, if the faith and hope of Iscariot in the word of Jesus were

already too far gone to be recalled to life by any cheering promises,

these sayings may have only served to increase his indifference, or

to deepen it into downright hatred, at what he would regard as a new

deceit, designed to keep up the sinking spirits of those, who had begun

to apprehend the desperate character of the enterprise in which they

had involved themselves. If his feelings had then reached this point

of desperation, the effect of this renewal of promises, which he might

construe into a support of his original views of the nature of the

rewards accruing to the followers of Christ, on the establishment

of his kingdom, would only excite and strengthen a deep rooted spite

against his once-adored Lord, and his malice, working in secret over

the disappointment, would at last be ready to rise on some convenient

occasion into active revenge.

_An accuser._――This is the true primary force of διαβολος

(_diabolos_) in this passage. (John vi. 70.) This word is never

applied to any individual in the sense of “devil,” except to

Satan himself; but wherever it occurs as a common substantive

appellation, descriptive of character, pointedly refers to its

primary signification of “accuser,” “calumniator,” “informer,”

&c., the root of it being διαβαλλω, which means “to accuse,” “to

calumniate;” and when applied to Satan, it still preserves this

sense,――though it then has the force of a proper name; since שטן

(_Satan_,) in Hebrew, means primarily “_accuser_” but acquires

the force of a proper name, in its ordinary use. Grotius however,

suggests that in this passage, the word truly corresponds to the

Hebrew צר (_tsar_,) the word which is applied to Haman, (Esther

vii. 6. viii. 1.) and has here the general force of “accuser,”

“enemy,” &c. The context here (verse 71,) shows that John

referred to this sense, and that Christ applied it to Judas

prophetically,――thus showing his knowledge of the fact, that

this apostle would “_accuse_” him, and “inform” against him,

before the Sanhedrim. Not only Grotius, but Vatablus, Erasmus,

Lucas Brugensis, and others, maintain this rendering.

This occasion, before long, presented itself. The successful labors

of Jesus, in Jerusalem, had raised up against him a combination of foes

of the most determined and dangerously hostile character. The great

dignitaries of the nation, uniting in one body all the legal, literary

and religions honors and influence of the Hebrew name, and strengthened

too by the weight of the vast wealth belonging to them and their

immediate supporters, as well as by the exaltation of high office and

ancient family, had at last resolved to use all this immense power, (if

less could not effect it,) for the ruin of the bold, eloquent man, who,

without one of all the privileges which were the sources and supports

of their power, had shaken their ancient dominion to its foundation

by his simple words, and almost overthrown all their power over the

people, whose eyes were now beginning to be opened to the mystery of

“how little wisdom it took, to govern them!” Self-preservation seemed

to require an instantaneous and energetic action against the bold

Reformer; and they were not the men to scruple about the means or

mode of satisfying both revenge and ambition by his destruction. This

state of feeling among the aristocracy could not have been unknown

to Iscariot. He had doubtless watched its gradual developments, from

day to day, during the displays in the temple; and as defeat followed

defeat in the strife of mind, he had abundant opportunity to see the

hostile feeling of the baffled and mortified Pharisees, Sadducees,

scribes and lawyers, mounting to the highest pitch of indignation, and

furnishing him with the long-desired occasion of making up for his own

disappointment in his great plans for the recompense of his sacrifices,

in the cause of Jesus. He saw that there was no chance whatever for

the triumphant establishment of that kingdom in whose honors he had

expected to share. All the opportunities and means for effecting

this result, Jesus was evidently determined to throw away, nor could

anything ever move him to such an effort as was desirable for the

gratification of the ambition of his disciples. The more splendid

and tempting the occasions for founding a temporal dominion, the more

resolutely did he seem to disappoint the golden hopes of his followers;

and, proceeding thus, was only exposing himself and them to danger,

without making any provision for their safety or escape. And where

was to be the reward of Iscariot’s long services in the management

of the stewardship of the apostolic fraternity? Had he not left his

business, to follow them about, laboring in their behalf, managing

their affairs, procuring the means of subsistence for them, and

exercising a responsibility which none else was so competent to assume?

And what recompense had he received? None, but the almost hopeless ruin

of his fortunes in a desperate cause. That such were the feelings and

reflections which his circumstances would naturally suggest, is very

evident. The signs of the alienation of his affections from Jesus,

are also seen in the little incident recorded by all the evangelists,

of the anointing of his feet by Mary. She, in deep gratitude to the

adored Lord who had restored to life her beloved brother, brought,

as the offering of her fervent love, the box of precious ointment of

spikenard, and poured it over his feet, anointing them, and wiping them

with her hair, so that the whole house was filled with the fragrance.

This beautiful instance of an ardent devotion, that would sacrifice

everything for its object, awakened no corresponding feeling in

the narrow soul of Iscariot; but seizing this occasion for the

manifestation of his inborn meanness, and his growing spite against his

Master, he indignantly exclaimed, (veiling his true motive, however,

under the appearance of charitable regard for the poor,) “To what

purpose is this waste? Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred

pence, and given to the poor?” So specious was this honorable pretense

for blaming what seemed the inconsiderate and extravagant devotion of

Mary, that others of the disciples joined in the indignant remonstrance

against this useless squandering of property, which might be converted

to the valuable purpose of ministering to the necessities of the poor,

many of whose hearts might have been gladdened by a well-regulated

expenditure of the price of this costly offering, which was now

irrecoverably lost. But honorable as may have been the motives of

those who joined with Iscariot in this protest, the apostle John most

distinctly insists that he was moved by a far baser consideration.

“This he said, NOT because he cared for the poor, but because he was a

thief, and kept the coffer, and carried what was cast into it.” This is

a most distinct exposition of a piece of villainy in the traitor, that

would have remained unknown, but for the record which John gives of

this transaction. It is here declared in plain terms, that Iscariot had

grossly betrayed the pecuniary trust which had been committed to him

on the score of his previous honesty, and had been guilty of downright

peculation,――converting to his own private purposes, the money which

had been deposited with him as the treasurer and steward of the whole

company of the disciples. He had probably made up his mind to this

rascally abuse of trust, on the ground that he was justified in thus

balancing what he had lost by his connection with Jesus; and supposed,

no doubt, that the ruin of all those whom he was thus cheating, would

be effectually secured before the act could be found out. What renders

this crime doubly abominable, is, that it was robbing the poor of

the generous contributions which, by the kindness of Jesus, had been

appropriated to their use, out of this little common stock; for it

seems that Iscariot was the minister of the common charities of the

brotherhood, as well as the provider of such things as were necessary

for their subsistence, and the steward of the common property. With

the pollution of this base crime upon his soul, before stirred up to

spite and disgust by disappointed ambition, he was now so dead to honor

and decency, that he was abundantly prepared for the commission of the

crowning act of villainy. The words in which Jesus rebuked his specious

concern for the economical administration of the money in charity, was

also in a tone that he might construe into a new ground of offense,

implying, as it did, that his zeal had some motive far removed from

a true affection for that Master, whose life was in hourly peril,

and might any moment be so sacrificed by his foes, that the honorable

forms of preparation for the burial might be denied; and being thus

already devoted to death, he might well accept this costly offering of

pure devotion, as the mournful unction for the grave. In these sadly

prophetic words, Judas may have found the immediate suggestion of his

act of sordid treachery; and incited, moreover, by the repulse which

his remonstrance had received, he seems to have gone directly about the

perpetration of the crime.

The nature and immediate object of this plot may not be perfectly

comprehended, without considering minutely the relations in which Jesus

stood to the Jewish Sanhedrim, and the means he had of resisting or

evading their efforts for the consummation of their schemes and hopes

against him. Jesus of Nazareth was, to the chief priests, scribes and

Pharisees, a dangerous foe. He had, during his visits to Jerusalem,

in his repeated encounters with them in the courts of the temple, and

all public places of assembly, struck at the very foundation of all

their authority and power over the people. The Jewish hierarchy was

supported by the sway of the Romans, indeed, but only because it was

in accordance with their universal policy of tolerance, to preserve

the previously established order of things, in all countries which they

conquered, so long as such a preservation was desired by the people;

but no longer than it was perfectly accordant with the feelings of the

majority. The Sanhedrim and their dependents therefore knew perfectly

well that their establishment could receive no support from the Roman

government, after they had lost their dominion over the affections of

the people; and were therefore very ready to perceive, that if they

were to be thus confounded and set at nought, in spite of learning

and dignity, by a poor Galilean, and even their gravest and most

puzzling attacks upon his wisdom and prudence, turned into an absolute

jest against them,――it was quite clear that the amused and delighted

multitude would soon cease to regard the authority and opinions of

their venerable religious and legal rulers, whose subtleties were

so easily foiled by one of the common, uneducated mass. But the very

circumstances which effected and constituted the evil, were also the

grand obstacles to the removal of it. Jesus was by these means seated

firmly in the love and reverence of the people,――and of the vast

numbers of strangers then in Jerusalem at the feast, there were very

many who would have their feelings strongly excited in his favor, by

the circumstance that they, as well as he, were Galileans, and would

therefore be very apt to make common cause with him in case of any

violent attack. All these obstacles required management; and after

having been very many times foiled in their attempts to seize him,

by the resolute determination of the thousands by whom he was always

encircled, to defend him, they found that they must contrive some way

to get hold of him when he was without the defenses of this admiring

host. This could be done, of course, only by following him to his

secret haunts, and coming quietly upon him before the multitude could

assemble to his aid. But his movements were altogether beyond their

notice. No armed band could follow him about, as he went from the city

to the country in his daily and nightly walks. They needed some spy who

could watch his private movements when unattended, save by the little

band of the twelve, and give notice of the favorable moment for a

seizure, when the time, the place, and the circumstances, would all

conspire to prevent a rescue. Thus taken, he might be safely lodged

in some of the impregnable fortresses of the temple and city, so as

to defy the momentary burst of popular rage, on finding that their

idol had been taken away. They knew too, the fickle character of

the commonalty, well enough to feel certain, that when the tide

of condemnation was once strongly set against the Nazarene, the

lip-worship of “Hosannas” could be easily turned, by a little

management, into the ferocious yell of deadly denunciation. The mass

of the people are always essentially the same in their modes of action.

Mobs were then managed by the same rules as now, and demagogues were

equally well versed in the tricks of their trade. Besides, when Jesus

had once been formally indicted and presented before the secular

tribunal of the Roman governor, as a rioter and seditious person, no

thought of a rescue from the military force could be thought of; and

however unwilling Pilate might be to minister to the wishes of the

Jews, in an act of unnecessary cruelty, he could not resist a call

thus solemnly made to him, in the character of preserver of the Roman

sway, though he would probably have rejected entirely any proposition

to seize Jesus by a military force, in open day, in the midst of the

multitude, so as to create a troublesome and bloody tumult, by such

an imprudent act. In the full consideration of all these difficulties,

the Jewish dignitaries were sitting in conclave, contriving means to

effect the settlement of their troubles, by the complete removal of

him who was unquestionably the cause of all. At once their anxious

deliberations were happily interrupted by the entrance of the trusted

steward of the company of Jesus, who changed all their doubts and

distant hopes into absolute certainty, by offering, for a reasonable

consideration, to give up Jesus into their hands, a prisoner, without

any disturbance or riot. How much delay and debate there was about

terms, it would be hard to say; but after all, the bargain made,

does not seem to have been greatly to the credit of the liberality

of the Sanhedrim, or the sharpness of Judas. Thirty of the largest

pieces of silver then coined, would make but a poor price for such

an extraordinary service, even making all allowance for a scarcity of

money in those times. And taking into account the wealth and rank of

those concerned, as well as the importance of the object, it is fair to

pronounce them a very mean set of fellows. But Judas especially seems

to forfeit almost all right to the character given him of acuteness in

money matters; and it is only by supposing him to be quite carried out

of his usual prudence, by his woful abandonment to crime, that so poor

a bargain can be made consistent with the otherwise reasonable view of

his character.

_Thirty pieces of silver._――The value of these pieces is

seemingly as vaguely expressed in the original as in the

translation; but a reference to Hebrew usages throws some light

on the question of definition. The common Hebrew coin thus

expressed was the shekel,――equivalent to the Greek _didrachmon_,

and worth about sixteen cents. In Hebrew the expression, thirty

“shekels of silver,” was not always written out in full; but

the name of the coin being omitted, the expression was always

equally definite, because no other coin was ever left thus

to be implied. Just so in English, the phrase, “a million of

money,” is perfectly well understood here, to mean “a million of

_dollars_;” while in England, the current coin of that country

would make the expression mean so many _pounds_. In the same

manner, to say, in this country, that any thing or any man is

worth “thousands,” always conveys, with perfect definiteness,

the idea of “dollars;” and in every other country the same

expression would imply a particular coin. Thirty pieces of

silver, each of which was worth sixteen cents, would amount

only to four dollars and eighty cents, which are just one pound

sterling. A small price for the great Jewish Sanhedrim to pay

for the ruin of their most dangerous foe! Yet for this little

sum, the Savior of the world was bought and sold!

Having thus settled this business, the cheaply-purchased traitor

returned to the unsuspecting fellowship of the apostles, mingling with

them, as he supposed, without the slightest suspicion on the part of

any one, respecting the horrible treachery which he had contrived for

the bloody ruin of his Lord. But there was an eye, whose power he had

never learned, though dwelling beneath its gaze for years,――an eye,

which saw the vainly hidden results of his treachery, even as for years

it had scanned the base motives which governed him. Yet no word of

reproach or denunciation broke forth from the lips of the betrayed One;

the progress of crime was suffered unresistedly to bear him onward to

the mournfully necessary fulfilment of his destiny. Judas meanwhile,

from day to day, waited and watched for the most desirable opportunity

of meeting his engagements with his priestly employers. The first day

of the feast of unleavened bread having arrived, Jesus sat down at

evening to eat the Paschal lamb with his twelve disciples, alone.

The whole twelve were there without one exception,――and among those

who reclined around the table, sharing in the social delights of the

entertainment which celebrated the beginning of the grand national

festival, was the dark-souled accuser also, like Satan among the sons

of God. Even here, amid the general joyous hilarity, his great scheme

of villainy formed the grand theme of his meditations,――and while the

rest were entering fully into the natural enjoyments of the occasion,

he was brooding over the best means of executing his plans. During the

supper, after the performance of the impressive ceremony of washing

their feet, Jesus made a sudden transition from the comments with which

he was illustrating it; and, in a tone of deep and sorrowful emotion,

suddenly exclaimed, “I solemnly assure you, that one of you will betray

me.” This surprising assertion, so emphatically made, excited the

most distressful sensations among the little assembly;――all enjoyment

was at an end; and grieved by the imputation, in which all seemed

included until the individual was pointed out, they each earnestly

inquired, “Lord, is it I?” As they sat thus looking in the most painful

doubt around their lately cheerful circle, the disciple who held

the place of honor and affection at the table, at the request of

Peter, whose position gave him less advantage for familiar and private

conversation,――plainly asked of Jesus, “Who is it, Lord?” Jesus, to

make his reply as deliberate and impressive as possible, said, “It is

he to whom I shall give a sop when I have dipped it.” The design of

all this circumlocution in pointing out the criminal, was, to mark the

enormity of the offense. “He that eateth bread with me, hath lifted up

his heel against me.” It was his familiar friend, his chosen companion,

enjoying with him at that moment the most intimate social pleasures of

the entertainment, and occupying one of the places nearest to him, at

the board. As he promised, after dipping the sop, he gave it to Judas

Iscariot, who, receiving it, was moved to no change in his dark purpose;

but with a new Satanic spirit, resolved immediately to execute his plan,

in spite of this open exposure, which, he might think, was meant to

shame him from his baseness. Jesus, with an eye still fixed on his most

secret inward movements, said to him, “What thou doest, do quickly.”

Judas, utterly lost to repentance and to shame, coolly obeyed the

direction, as if it had been an ordinary command, in the way of his

official duty, and went out at the words of Jesus. All this, however,

was perfectly without meaning, to the wondering disciples, who, not yet

recovered from their surprise at the very extraordinary announcement

which they had just heard of the expected treachery, could not suppose

that this quiet movement could have anything to do with the occurrence

which preceded it; but concluded that Judas was going about the

business necessary for the preparation of the next day’s festal

entertainment,――or that he was following the directions of Jesus about

the charity to be administered to the poor out of the funds in his

keeping, in accordance with the commendable Hebrew usage of remembering

the poor on great occasions of enjoyment,――a custom to which, perhaps,

the previous words of Judas, when he rebuked the waste of the ointment

by Mary, had some especial reference, since at that particular time,

money was actually needed for bestowment in alms to the poor. Judas,

after leaving the place where the declaration of Jesus had made him

an object of such suspicion and dislike, went, under the influence of

that evil spirit, to whose direction he was now abandoned, directly

to the chief priests, (who were anxiously waiting the fulfilment of

his promise,) and made known to them that the time was now come. The

band of watchmen and servants, with their swords and cudgels, were

accordingly mustered and put under the guidance of Judas, who, well

knowing the place to which Jesus would of course go from the feast,

conducted his band of low assistants across the brook Kedron, to the

garden of Gethsemane. On the way he arranged with them the sign by

which they should recognize, in spite of the darkness and confusion,

the person whose capture was the grand object of this expedition. “The

man whom I shall kiss is he: seize him.” Entering the garden, at length,

he led them straight to the spot which his intimate familiarity with

Jesus enabled him to know, as his favorite retreat. Going up to him

with the air of friendly confidence, he saluted him, as if rejoiced to

find him, even after this brief absence,――another instance of the very

close intimacy which had existed between the traitor and the betrayed.

Jesus submitted to this hollow show, without any attempt to repulse

the movement which marked him for destruction, only saying, in mild

but expressive reproach,――“Judas! Betrayest thou the Son of Man with a

kiss?” Without more delay he announced himself in plain terms, to those

who came to seize him; thus showing how little need there was of artful

contrivance in taking one who did not seek to escape. “If ye seek Jesus

of Nazareth, I am he.” The simple majesty with which these words were

uttered, was such as to overawe even the low officials; and it was not

till he himself had again distinctly reminded them of their object,

that they could execute their errand. So vain was the arrangement of

signals, which had been studiously made by the careful traitor.

No further mention is made of Iscariot after the scene of his treachery,

until the next morning, when Jesus had been condemned by the high

court of the Sanhedrim, and dragged away to undergo punishment from

the secular power. The sun of another day had risen on his crime; and

after a very brief interval, he now had time for cool meditation on

the nature and consequences of his act. Spite and avarice had both now

received their full gratification. The thirty pieces of silver were

his, and the Master whose instructions he had hated for their purity

and spirituality, because they had made known to him the vileness of

his own character and motives, was now in the hands of those who were

impelled, by the darkest passions, to secure his destruction. But after

all, now came the thought, and inquiry, ‘what had the pure and holy

Jesus done, to deserve this reward at his hands?’ He had called him

from the sordid pursuits of a common life, to the high task of aiding

in the regeneration of Israel. He had taught him, labored with him,

prayed for him, trusted him as a near and worthy friend, making him

the steward of all the earthly possessions of his apostolic family, and

the organ of his ministrations of charity to the poor. All this he had

done without the prospect of a reward, surely. And why? To make him an

instrument, not of the base purposes of a low ambition;――not to acquire

by this means the sordid and bloody honors of a conqueror,――but to

effect the moral and spiritual emancipation of a people, suffering

far less under the evils of a foreign sway, than under the debasing

dominion of folly and sin. And was this an occasion to arm against

him the darker feelings of his trusted and loved companions?――to turn

the instruments of his mercy into weapons of death? Ought the mere

disappointment of a worldly-minded spirit, that was ever clinging to

the love of material things, and that would not learn the solemn truth

of the spiritual character of the Messiah’s reign, now to cause it to

vent its regrets at its own errors, in a traitorous attack upon the

life of him who had called it to a purpose whose glories and rewards it

could not appreciate? These and other mournful thoughts would naturally

rise to the repentant traitor’s mind, in the awful revulsion of feeling

which that morning brought with it. But repentance is not atonement;

nor can any change of feeling in the mind of the sinner, after the

perpetration of the sinful act, avail anything for the removal or

expiation of the evil consequences of it. So vain and unprofitable,

both to the injurer and the injured, are the tears of remorse! And

herein lay the difference between the repentance of Judas and of Peter.

The sin of Peter affected no one but himself, and was criminal only

as the manifestation of a base, selfish spirit of deceit, that fell

from truth through a vain-glorious confidence,――and the effusion of

his gushing tears might prove the means of washing away the pollution

of such an offense from his soul. But the sin of Judas had wrought a

work of crime whose evil could not be affected by any tardy change of

feeling in him. Peter’s repentance came too late indeed, to exonerate

him from guilt; because all repentance is too late for such a purpose,

when it comes after the commission of the sin. The repentance of an

evil purpose, coming in time to prevent the execution of the act, is

indeed available for good; but both Peter and Judas came to the sense

of the heinousness of sin, only after its commission. Peter however,

had no evil to repair for others,――while Judas saw the bloody sequel

of his guilt, coming with most irrevocable certainty upon the blameless

One whom he had betrayed. Overwhelmed with vain regrets, he took the

now hateful, though once-desired price of his villainy, and seeking

the presence of his purchasers, held out to them the money, with

the useless confession of the guilt, which was too accordant with

their schemes and hopes, for them to think of redeeming him from its

consequences. The words of his confession were, “I have sinned, in

betraying innocent blood.” This late protestation was received by the

proud priests, with as much regard as might have been expected from

exulting tyranny, when in the enjoyment of the grand object of its

efforts. With a cold sneer they replied, “What is that to us? See thou

to that!” Maddened with the immovable and remorseless determination

of the haughty condemners of the just, he flung down the price of his

infamy and woe, upon the floor of the temple, and rushed out of their

presence, to seal his crimes and eternal misery by the act that put him

for ever beyond the power of redemption. Seeking a place removed from

the observation of men, he hurried out of the city, and contriving the

fatal means of death for himself, before the bloody doom of him whom

he betrayed had been fulfilled, the wretched man saved his eyes the

renewed horrors of the sight of the crucifixion, by closing them in the

sleep which earthly sights can not disturb. But even in the mode of his

death, new circumstances of horror occurred. Swinging himself into the

air, by falling from a highth, as the cord tightened around his neck,

checking his descent, the weight of his body produced the rupture of

his abdomen, and his bowels bursting through, made him, as he swung

stiffening and convulsed in the agonies of this doubly horrid death,

a disgusting and appalling spectacle,――a monument of the vengeance

of God on the traitor, and a shocking witness of his own remorse and

self-condemnation.

A very striking difference is noticeable between the account

given by Matthew of the death of Judas, and that given by

Luke in the speech of Peter, Acts i. 18, 19. The various modes

of reconciling these difficulties are found in the ordinary

commentaries. In respect to a single expression in Acts i. 18,

there is an ingenious conjecture offered by Granville Penn, in a

very interesting and learned article in the first volume of the

transactions of the Royal Society of Literature, which may very

properly be mentioned here, on account of its originality and

plausibility, and because it is found only in an expensive work,

hardly ever seen in this country. Mr. Penn’s view is, that “the

word ελακησε (_elakese_,) in Acts i. 18, is only an inflection

of the Latin verb, _laqueo_, (to halter or strangle,) rendered

insititious in the Hellenistic Greek, under the form λακεω.” He

enters into a very elaborate argument, which can not be given

here, but an extract may be transcribed, in order to enable

the learned to apprehend the nature and force of his views.

(Translated by R. S. Lit. Vol. I. P. 2, pp. 51, 52.)

“Those who have been in the southern countries of Europe know,

that the operation in question, as exercised on a criminal, is

performed with a great length of cord, with which the criminal

is _precipitated_ from a high beam, and is thus violently

_laqueated_, or snared in a noose, _mid-way_――_medius_ or _in

medio_; μεσος, and _medius_, referring to _place_ as well as

to _person_; as, μεσος ὑμων ἑστηκεν. (John i. 26.) ‘Considit

scopulo medius――――’ (Virgil, Georgics, iv. 436.) ‘―――― medius

prorumpit in hostes.’ (Aeneid, x. 379.)

“Erasmus distinctly perceived this sense in the words πρηνης

γενομενος, although he did not discern it in the word ελακησε,

which confirms it: ‘πρηνης Graecis dicitur, qui _vultu est in

terram dejecto_: expressit autem _gestum et habitum_ LAQUEO

PRAEFOCATI; alioquin, ex hoc sane loco non poterat intelligi,

quod Judas _suspenderit se_,’ (in loc.) And so Augustine also

had understood those words, as he shows in his _Recit. in Act.

Apostol._ l. i. col. 474. ‘et collem sibi alligavit, et dejectus

in faciem,’ &c. Hence one MS., cited by Sabatier, for πρηνης

γενομενος, reads αποκρεμαμένος; and Jerom, in his new vulgate,

has substituted _suspensus_ for the _pronus factus_ of the old

Latin version, which our old English version of 1542 accordingly

renders, _and when he was hanged_.

“That which follows, and which evidently determined the vulgar

interpretation of ελακησε――εξεχυνθη παντα τα σπλαγχνα αυτου,

_all his bowels gushed out_――states a natural and probable

effect produced, by the sudden interruption in the fall and

violent capture in the noose, in a frame of great corpulency

and distension, such as Christian antiquity has recorded that

of the traitor to have been; so that a term to express rupture

would have been altogether unnecessary, and it is therefore

equally unnecessary to seek for it in the verb ελακησε. Had the

historian intended to express disruption, we may justly presume

that he would have said, as he had already said in his gospel,

v. 6, διερρηγνυτο, or xxiii. 45, εσχισθη μεσος: it is difficult

to conceive, that he would here have traveled into the language

of ancient Greek poetry for a word to express a common idea,

when he had common terms at hand and in practice; but he used

the Roman _laqueo_, λακεω, to mark the infamy of the death.

“(Πρησθεις επι τοσουτον την σαρκα, ὡστε μη δυνασθαι δειλθειν.

Papias, from Routh's _Reliquiæ Sacræ_ tom. I. p. 9. and

Oecumenius, thus rendered by Zegers, _Critici Sacri_, Acts i.

18, _in tantum enim corpore inflatus est ut progredi non

posset_. The tale transmitted by those writers of the first

and tenth centuries, that Judas was crushed to death by a

chariot proceeding rapidly, from which his unwieldiness rendered

him unable to escape, merits no further attention, after the

authenticated descriptions of the traitor’s death which we have

here investigated, than to suggest a possibility that the place

where the suicide was committed might have overhung a public

way, and that the body falling by its weight might have been

traversed, after death, by a passing chariot;――from whence might

have arisen the tales transmitted successively by those writers;

the first of whom, being an inhabitant of Asia Minor, and

therefore far removed from the theater of Jerusalem, and being

also (as Eusebius witnesses, iii. 39,) a man of a very weak

mind――σφοδρα μκρος τον νουν――was liable to be deceived by false

accounts.)

“The words of St. Peter, in the Hellenistic version of St.

Luke, will therefore import, _praeceps in ora fusus, laqueavit_

(_i. e._ implicuit se laqueo) _medius_; (_i. e._ in medio,

inter trabem et terram;) _et effusa sunt omnia viscera

ejus_――_throwing himself headlong, he caught mid-way in

the noose, and all his bowels gushed out_. And thus the two

reporters of the suicide, from whose respective relations

charges of disagreement, and even of contradiction, have been

drawn in consequence of _mistaking an insititious Latin word

for a genuine Greek word of corresponding elements_, are found,

by tracing that insititious word to its true origin, to report

identically the same fact; the one by a _single term_, the other

by a _periphrasis_.”

Such was the end of the twelfth of Jesus Christ’s chosen ones.

To such an end was the intimate friend, the trusted steward, the

festal companion of the Savior, brought by the impulse of some not

very unnatural feelings, excited by occasion, into extraordinary

action. The universal and intense horror which the relation of his

crime now invariably awakens, is by no means favorable to a just

and fair appreciation of his sin and its motives, nor to such an

honest consideration of his course from rectitude to guilt, as is

most desirable for the application of the whole story to the moral

improvement of its readers. Originally not an infamous man, he was

numbered among the twelve as a person of _respectable_ character, and

long held among his fellow-disciples a responsible station, which is

itself a testimony of his unblemished reputation. He was sent forth

with them, as one of the heralds of salvation to the lost sheep of the

house of Israel. He shared with them the counsels, the instructions,

and the prayers of Jesus. If he was stupid in apprehending, and

unspiritual in conceiving the truths of the gospel, so were they. If

he was an unbeliever in the resurrection of Jesus, so were they; and

had he survived till the accomplishment of that prophecy, he could not

have been slower in receiving the evidence of the event, than they. As

it was, he died in his unbelief; while they lived to feel the glorious

removal of all their doubts, the purification of all their gross

conceptions, and the effusion of that spirit of truth, through which,

by the grace of God alone, they afterwards were what they were. Without

a merit, in _faith_, beyond Judas, they maintained their dim and

doubtful adherence to the truth, only by their nearer approximation to

_moral_ perfection; and by their nobler freedom from the pollution of

sordid and spiteful feeling. Through passion alone he fell, a victim,

not to a want of faith merely,――for therein, the rest could hardly

claim a superiority,――but to the radical deficiency of true _love_

for Jesus, of that “charity which never faileth,” but “endureth to the

end.” It was their simple, devoted affection, which, through all their

ignorance, their grossness of conception, and their faithlessness in

his word, made them still cling to his name and his grave, till the

full revelations of his resurrection and ascension had displaced their

doubts by the most glorious certainties, and given their faith an

eternal assurance. The great cause of the awful ruin of Judas Iscariot,

then, was the fact, that _he did not LOVE Jesus_. Herein was his grand

distinction from all the rest; for though their regard was mingled

with so much that was base, there was plainly, in all of them, a solid

foundation of true, deep affection. The most ambitious and skeptical

of them, gave the most unquestionable proofs of this. Peter, John,

both the Jameses, and others, are instances of the mode in which these

seemingly opposite feelings were combined. But Judas was without this

great refining and elevating principle, which so redeemed the most

sordid feelings of his fellows. It was not merely for the love of

money that he was led into this horrid crime. The love of four dollars

and eighty cents! Who can believe that this was the sole motive? It

was rather that _his_ sordidness and selfishness, and ambition, if

he had any, lacked this single, purifying emotion, which redeemed

their characters. Is there not, in this reflection, a moral which

each Christian reader can improve to his own use? For the lack of the

love of Jesus alone, Judas fell from his high estate, to an infamy as

immortal as their fame. Wherever, through all ages, the high heroic

energy of Peter, the ready faith of Andrew, the martyr-fire of James

Boanerges, the soul-absorbing love of John, the willing obedience

of Philip, the guileless purity of Nathanael, the recorded truth

of Matthew, the slow but deep devotion of Thomas, the blameless

righteousness of James the Just, the appellative zeal of Simon, and

the earnest warning eloquence of Jude, are all commemorated in honor

and bright renown,――the murderous, sordid spite of Iscariot, will

insure him an equally lasting proverbial shame. Truly, “THE SIN OF

JUDAS IS WRITTEN WITH A PEN OF IRON ON A TABLET OF MARBLE.”

Lives of the apostles of Jesus Christ · 第 121 / 177 题