iph., _Adv. Haer._, xix., xxix., and xxx., especially
xxix. 9.]

Like all great men, Jesus loved the people, and felt himself at home
with them. The Gospel, in his idea, is made for the poor; it is to
them he brings the glad tidings of salvation.[1] All the despised ones
of orthodox Judaism were his favorites. Love of the people, and pity
for its weakness (the sentiment of the democratic chief, who feels the
spirit of the multitude live in him, and recognize him as its natural
interpreter), shine forth at each moment in his acts and
discourses.[2]

[Footnote 1: Matt. xi. 5; Luke vi. 20, 21.]

[Footnote 2: Matt. ix. 36; Mark vi. 34.]

The chosen flock presented, in fact, a very mixed character, and one
likely to astonish rigorous moralists. It counted in its fold men with
whom a Jew, respecting himself, would not have associated.[1] Perhaps
Jesus found in this society, unrestrained by ordinary rules, more mind
and heart than in a pedantic and formal middle-class, proud of its
apparent morality. The Pharisees, exaggerating the Mosaic
prescriptions, had come to believe themselves defiled by contact with
men less strict than themselves; in their meals they almost rivalled
the puerile distinctions of caste in India. Despising these miserable
aberrations of the religious sentiment, Jesus loved to eat with those
who suffered from them;[2] by his side at table were seen persons said
to lead wicked lives, perhaps only so called because they did not
share the follies of the false devotees. The Pharisees and the doctors
protested against the scandal. "See," said they, "with what men he
eats!" Jesus returned subtle answers, which exasperated the
hypocrites: "They that be whole need not a physician."[3] Or again:
"What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them,
doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after
that which is lost until he find it? And when he hath found it, he
layeth it on his shoulders rejoicing."[4] Or again: "The Son of Man is
come to save that which was lost."[5] Or again: "I am not come to call
the righteous, but sinners."[6] Lastly, that delightful parable of the
prodigal son, in which he who is fallen is represented as having a
kind of privilege of love above him who has always been righteous.
Weak or guilty women, surprised at so much that was charming, and
realizing, for the first time, the attractions of contact with virtue,
approached him freely. People were astonish