"Fellow, darest thou to slay Caius Marius?" the soldier threw down his
weapon and fled.[4]

There are many indications scattered through the Gospels that,
especially in moments of high emotion, there was something
extraordinarily subduing in the aspect and voice of Christ.[5] On the
occasion, for example, when He cleared the temple, the hardened
profaners of the place, though numerous and powerful, fled in terror
before Him. And the striking notice of Him as He was going up to
Jerusalem for the last time will be remembered: "Jesus went before
them, and they were amazed; and, as they followed, they were afraid."

On this occasion the emotion of Gethsemane was upon Him--the rapt sense
of victory and of a mind steeled to go through with its purpose--and
perhaps there remained on His face some traces of the Agony, which
scared the onlookers. It is not necessary to suppose that there was
anything preternatural, though part of the terror of His captors may
have been the dread lest He should destroy them by a miracle.
Evidently Judas was afraid of something of this kind when he said,
"Take Him and lead Him away safely."

The truth is, they were caught, instead of catching Him. It was a
mean, treacherous errand they were on. They were employing a traitor
as their guide. They expected to come upon Christ, perhaps when He was
asleep, in silence and by stealth; or, if He were awake, they thought
that they would have to pursue Him into a lurking-place, where they
would find Him trembling and at bay. They were to surprise Him, but,
when He came forth fearless, rapt and interrogative, He surprised them,
and compelled them to take an altogether unexpected attitude. He
brought all above board and put them to shame.

How ridiculous now looked their cumbrous preparations--all these
soldiers, the swords and staves, the torches and lanterns, now burning
pale in the clear moonlight. Jesus made them feel it. He made them
feel what manner of spirit they were of, and how utterly they had
mistaken His views and spirit. "Whom seek ye?" He asked them again, to
compel them to see that they were not taking Him, but that He was
giving Himself up. He was completely master of the situation.
Singling out the Sanhedrists, who probably at that moment would rather
have kept in the background, He demanded, pointing to their excessive
preparations, "Be ye come out as against a thief, with swords and
staves? When I was daily with you in the