Town and Country Sermons | Page 8

far as they could
recollect, and left them to tell their own story. Even St. John, who was
our Lord's beloved friend, who seems to have caught and copied
exactly his way of speaking, seems to feel that there was infinitely
more in our Lord than he could put into words, and ends with
confessing,--'And there are also many more things which Jesus did, the
which if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the
world itself could not contain the books that should be written.'

The first reason then, I suppose, for the evangelists' modesty, was their
awe and astonishment at our Lord. The next, I think, may have been
that they wished to copy him, and so to please him. It surely must have
been so, if, as all good Christians believe, they were inspired to write
our Lord's life. The Lord would inspire them to write as he would like
his life to be written, as he would have written it (if it be reverent to
speak of such a thing) himself. They were inspired by Christ's Spirit;
and, therefore, they wrote according to the Spirit of Christ, soberly,
humbly, modestly, copying the character of Christ.
Think upon that word modestly. I am not sure that it is the best; I only
know that it is the best which I can find, to express one excellence
which we see in our Lord, which is like what we call modesty in
common human beings.
We all know how beautiful and noble modesty is; how we all admire it;
how it raises a man in our eyes to see him afraid of boasting; never
showing off; never requiring people to admire him; never pushing
himself forward; or, if his business forces him to go into public, not
going for the sake of display, but simply because the thing has to be
done; and then quietly withdrawing himself when the thing is done,
content that none should be staring at him or thinking of him. This is
modesty; and we admire it not only in young people, or those who have
little cause to be proud: we admire it much more in the greatest, the
wisest, and the best; in those who have, humanly speaking, most cause
to be proud. Whenever, on the other hand, we see in wise and good
men any vanity, boasting, pompousness of any kind, we call it a
weakness in them, and are sorry to see them lowering themselves by
the least want of divine modesty.
Now, this great grace and noble virtue should surely be in our Lord,
from whom all graces and virtues come; and I think we need not look
far through the gospels to find it.
See how he refused to cast himself down from the temple, and make
himself a sign and a wonder to the Jews. How he refused to show the
Pharisees a sign. How, in this very text, when it seemed good to him to
show his glory, he takes only three favourite apostles, and commands

them to tell no man till he be risen again. See, again, how when the
Jews wanted to take him by force, and make him a king, he escaped out
of their hands. How when He had been preaching to, or healing the
multitude, so that they crowded on him, and became excited about him,
he more than once immediately left them, and retired into a desert place
to pray.
See, again, how when he did tell the Jews who he was, in words most
awfully unmistakeable, the confession was, as it were, drawn from him,
at the end of a long argument, when he was forced to speak out for
truth's sake. And, even then, how simple, how modest (if I dare so
speak), are his words. 'Before Abraham was, I am.' The most awful
words ever spoken on earth; and yet most divine in their very simplicity.
The Maker of the world telling his creatures that he is their God! What
might he not have said at such a moment? What might we not fancy his
saying? What words, grand enough, awful enough, might not the
evangelists have put into his mouth, if they had not been men full of the
spirit of truth? And yet what does the Lord say? 'Before Abraham was,
I am.' Could he say more? If you think of the matter, No. But could he
say less? If you think of the manner, No, likewise.
Truly, 'never man spake as he spake:' because never man was like him.
Perfect strength, wisdom, determination, endurance; and yet perfect
meekness, simplicity, sobriety. Zeal and modesty. They are the last two
virtues which go together most seldom. In him they went together
utterly; and were one, as