understand him, but only the select few to whom he gives private explanations.  I confess I believe the Evangelist rather than the modern Divine.  I cannot conceive how so strange a notion could ever have possessed the companions of Jesus, if it had not been true.  If really this parabolical method had been peculiarly intelligible, what could make them imagine the contrary?  Unless they found it very obscure themselves, whence came the idea that it was obscure to the multitude?  As a fact, it is very obscure, to this day.  There is much that I most imperfectly understand, owing to unexplained metaphor:  as:  “Agree with thine adversary quickly, &c. &c.:”  “Whoso calls his brother[2] a fool, is in danger of hell fire:”  “Every one must be salted with fire, and every sacrifice salted with salt.  Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”  Now every man of original and singular genius has his own forms of thought; in so far as they are natural, we must not complain, if to us they are obscure.  But the moment affectation comes in, they no longer are reconcilable with the perfect character:  they indicate vanity, and incipient sacerdotalism.  The distinct notice that Jesus avoided to expound his parables to the multitude, and made this a boon to the privileged few; and that without a parable he spake not to the multitude; and the pious explanation, that this was a fulfilment of Prophecy, “I will open my mouth in parables, I will utter dark sayings on the harp,” persuade me that the impression of the disciples was a deep reality.  And it is in entire keeping with the general narrative, which shows in him so much of mystical assumption.  Strip the parables of the imagery, and you find that sometimes one thought has been dished up four or five times, and generally, that an idea is dressed into sacred grandeur.  This mystical method made a little wisdom go a great way with the multitude; and to such a mode of economizing resources the instinct of the uneducated man betakes itself, when he is claiming to act a part for which he is imperfectly prepared.

It is common with orthodox Christians to take for granted, that unbelief of Jesus was a sin, and belief a merit, at a time when no rational grounds of belief were as yet public.  Certainly, whoever asks questions with a view to prove Jesus, is spoken of vituperatingly in the gospels; and it does appear to me that the prevalent Christian belief is a true echo of Jesus’s own feeling.  He disliked being put to the proof.  Instead of rejoicing in it, as a true and upright man ought,—­instead of blaming those who accept his pretensions on too slight grounds,—­instead of encouraging full inquiry and giving frank explanations, he resents doubt, shuns everything that will test him, is very obscure as to his own pretensions, (so as to need probing and positive questions, whether he does or does not profess to be Messiah,) and yet is delighted at all easy belief.  When asked for