s
necessary; and he who pleads for foreign missions is reminded that we
have heathen at home. These are the carping criticisms of habitual
fault-finders, and of men who have no hearty desire for the advancement
of what is good.

Others, again, who approved the act could not reconcile themselves to
the manner of it. Might it not have been enough to have pointed out the
abuse, and to have made a strong representation to the authorities? Was
it fair to step in and usurp the authority of the Sanhedrim or Temple
officials? Was it consistent with prophetic dignity to drive out the
offenders with His own hand? Even those most friendly to Him may have
felt a little jarred as they saw Him with uplifted scourge and flaming
eyes violently driving before Him men and beasts. But they remembered
that it was written, "The zeal of Thine house will consume Me." They
remembered perhaps how the most popular king of Israel had danced before
the ark, to the scandal indeed of dull-souled conventionalists, but with
the approval of all clear-seeing and spiritually-judging men. They might
also have remembered how the last of their prophecies had said, "Behold,
the Lord whom ye seek shall suddenly come to His temple. But who may
abide the day of His coming, and who shall stand when He appeareth?"

This zeal at once explained and justified His action. Some abuses may be
reformed by appeal to the constituted authorities; others can be
abolished only by the blazing indignation of a righteous soul who cannot
longer endure the sight. This zeal, conquering all consideration of
consequences and regard to appearances, acts as a cleansing fire,
sweeping before it what is offensive. It has always its own risks to
run: the authorities at Jerusalem never forgave Jesus this first
interference. By reforming an abuse they should never have allowed, He
damaged them in the eyes of the people, and they could never forget it.
Zeal also runs the risk of acting indiscreetly and taking too much upon
it. In itself zeal is a good thing, but it does not exist "in itself."
It exists in a certain character, and where the character is imperfect
or dangerous the zeal is imperfect or dangerous. The zeal of the proud
or selfish man is mischievous, the zeal of the ignorant fraught with
disaster. Still, with all risks, give us by all means rather the man who
is eaten up, possessed and carried away, by a passionate sympathy with
the oppressed and neglected, or with unquenchable