Revelation 1:12-20

CRITICAL AND EXEGETICAL NOTES

Revelation 1:12. See the voice.—“See Him whose voice I heard.” Seven golden candlesticks.—Compare Zechariah 4:2. Lamp-stands would be a better term. Not one candlestick with seven branches, but seven candlesticks. The independence of the Churches of Christ is consistent with the unity of the Church of Christ.

Revelation 1:13. Midst.—Middle, centre. Like unto.—So as to be immediately and distinctly recognised. “Son of Man” was Christ’s own name for Himself. It is used here because His glory might hide from view His oneness of sympathy with His people. Down to the foot.—Compare the long garments of priests. Girdle.—Put round the breasts as a sign of kingly repose, not round the loins, which would be a sign of toil. Christ is, as head of His people, the great Priest, and the great King. These—the garment and girdle—suggest His offices. Now we see His personal character and His power for fulfilling His offices. Each figure suggests absolute purity, in which lies perfect power.

Revelation 1:14. White.—Compare scene at our Lord’s transfiguration. Flame of fire.—Which is white when it is full and strong.

Revelation 1:15. Brass.—Which glows with whiteness in the furnace. Many waters.—Flowing down hill-sides, white with foam, the very sound of them in harmony with whiteness.

Revelation 1:16. Seven stars.—See Revelation 1:20. In His light these glow with willingness. Two-edged sword.—Gleaming white. Sun.—So white no eye can gaze upon it. By and these figures the lustre of holiness and righteousness is signified.

Revelation 1:17. As dead.—Compare Job 42:5; Isaiah 6:5. The realisation of the Divine presence, even in symbol, is profoundly humbling to the devout man.

Revelation 1:18. I am alive, etc.—In this sentence is the key-note of the book. Hell and death.—Figures of all the forms of woe that can affect the Church. They are in the absolute control of the Living One, and are used by Him for His purposes.

Revelation 1:20. Angels.—Either the ministers, or the guardian angels, of the Churches. It is, however, quite possible that they represent the angels appointed to conduct the discipline of each Church. Then what is asserted is, that the angel of discipline for each Church is absolutely held in the Living Christ’s hands, and does but work out His purpose of grace.

Note on the “Seven Spirits” by Moses Stuart.—After dismissing the suggestions that either God, or the Holy Spirit, can be meant by this figure expression, Stuart argues in favour of a third possible meaning—that of attending or ministering presence-angels. Among the ancient fathers not a few embraced this view; such as Clemens Alex. Andreas of Cæsarea, and others. So among the moderns, Valla, Beza, Drusius, Hammond, and many others. The nature of the whole expression favours this view. The seven spirits before His throne naturally means those who stand in His presence, waiting His commands in the attitude of ministering servants; see and compare Revelation 4:5; Revelation 7:9; Revelation 7:15; Revelation 8:2; Revelation 11:4; Revelation 11:16; Revelation 12:10; Revelation 14:3; Revelation 20:12—which passages, although not all of the same tenor with the text before us, still decide that those who are before the throne are different from those on the throne.

2. Several passages in the Revelation go directly to confirm the opinion in question. E.g., Revelation 8:2, “I saw τοὺς ἑπτὰ�, who stand before God.” This is the first mention of these seven angels which occurs after the introduction to the book. The article τοὺς of course designates here the well-known seven angels, i.e. archangels, or presence-angels, which the reader was expected readily to recognise. Such a meaning is unavoidable, under such circumstances. Here also, I cannot doubt, is to be ranked the passage in Revelation 4:5. where the seven lamps burning before the throne are said to be τὰ ἑπτὰ πνεύματα τοῦ Θεοῦ, i.e. the seven spirits. All the passages cited serve to show that the “seven angels” was a familiar idea with the writer; and that, in this respect, he only followed the common usus loquendi of his time. The book of Tobit introduces Raphael as saying, “I am … one of the seven angels.” The book of Enoch gives the names of the seven angels who watch. The word “watchers” is employed in the Syriac liturgies for guardian angels, or archangels. We find seven Amshaspends, or archangels, in the theosophy of Zoroaster.

MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.— Revelation 1:12

The Symbolic Presentation of Christ in His Church.—There are two possible conceptions of the continuity of Christ’s life and ministry from the time of His resurrection. The usual thought of Him is of One who has passed into heaven, and there acts as Mediator, Intercessor, High Priest, for His people. That idea is specially elaborated in the epistle to the Hebrews. The less usual thought, but the one which is every day gaining more interest and importance, conceives Christ as actually having come again, as He said He would, and being actively engaged in His Church, for His Church’s good; but in spiritual, not in sensible fashion. So present, this vision represents—

I. His place.—“In the midst of the seven golden candlesticks” (Revelation 1:13). In the centre, the middle, the very heart of the Church, so as to have full control, out to the circumference.

II. His office.—This appears to be indicated by His dress (Revelation 1:13). The long robe, indicating the priest; the peculiar position of the girdle indicating the King.

III. His character (Revelation 1:14).—The figures indicate absolute and dazzling, glistering, whiteness. Not merely a passive holiness, but an active holiness which makes holy. It shines and makes shining.

IV. His mission.—Symbolled by the two-edged sword proceeding out of His mouth. He had to search the Churches, and solemnly declare the truth concerning them, however severe and humiliating it might have to be. Symbolled, too, in a countenance like the sun, withering up all falseness and evil. St. John’s fear in the presence of this symbolled Christ represents the fear which the Church always has when it realises that the Living Christ is inspecting it, and critically searching it. The response to St. John’s fear represents the response Christ makes to the Church’s fear. It may be stated in this way. Christ—the Living, Present Christ—compasses the Christian ages even as God compasses all ages. Therefore, Christ can fully control and use all the evil influences that may be affecting His Church, making “all things work together for good.”

SUGGESTIVE NOTES AND SERMON SKETCHES

Revelation 1:12. The Candelabrum of the Apocalypse.—This is a striking symbol of the Church. Herein we see—

I. The position of the Church—without the veil.

II. Its work.—To exhibit light—that is, Christ.

III. Its unity.—Many lamps, but one light.

IV. The source of its vitality.—Continually fed by the Holy Ghost.

V. Its beauty.—Each branch richly ornamented.

VI. Its value.—the candelabrum was gold—believers are Christ’s jewels. Application:

1. How great the honours!
2. How certain the safety, of believers!—R. A. Griffin.

Revelation 1:13. Symbols of the Living Christ.—Here our Lord appeared to St. John, clothed in all the insignia which serve as emblems of the different aspects of His glory. It is specially important to notice that it is from this general picture of the glory of the Lord that the particular emblems in which He appears to each particular Church are drawn. “These emblems represent the qualities in virtue of which He will have power to do all that He announces to them.”

The Symbolism of Numbers.—There is an alternation of praise and blame, answering to the even and odd numbers included in seven. The law according to which the Seven Churches have been disposed in the picture seems to be this: the numbers one, three, five, and seven, indicate the different degrees of the dominion of sin over the Christian life in a Church—its graduation in evil. The numbers two, four, and six, indicate, on the contrary, the different degrees of the victory gained by the work of God over sin—its progress in good.—F. Godet, D.D.

Revelation 1:17. Christ Risen, Living, and Life-giving.—The point of interest in these verses is this: they present St. John’s full and final impression of the person of Christ. A revelation by vision of the Risen Christ was given to St. John, because he would be specially sensitive to visions, his mystical, meditative mood of mind enabling him most effectively to deal with this mode of revelation. Compare the visions given to St. Paul, as a sufferer in Christ’s service; and to St. Peter, as a leader into the larger truth. St. John’s gospel concerns the person of Christ. He is not mainly interested in what Jesus did, but in what Jesus was, and in the things which revealed what He was. The synoptists relate what Christ said and did, without having any argumentative purpose in their narrations—or we may say, they give us history for beginners, the record of facts; but St. John gives us history for advanced students, the philosophy of the facts. The explanation of St. John’s peculiar point of view is found—

1. In his nature, which may be compared with that of Mary of Bethany.
2. In the fact that he was brought to Christ by the personal influence of Christ. That fixed his lifelong interest upon Christ Himself. For many long years he had meditated on his theme, and, through his meditations, had kept the personal influence of the Living and Spiritual Christ strong upon him. And the heretical teachings of his day made him increasingly zealous to uphold views that honoured Christ; so he became the guide and helper of advanced Christians, who are spirituallyminded, mystical, and able to grow into discernment of those spiritual and eternal truths which underlie varying forms, and can gain expression through ever-varying forms. St. John can lead all who have the insight of love. It is well for us to keep in mind that Christianity, as a system, unfolded along two distinct lines.
1. Led by St. Paul, the doctrine of Christ’s work was gradually elaborated; and,

2. Led by St. John, the doctrine of Christ’s person. There is a Jewish way of reading the Crucifixion: there is a Pauline way, and there is a Johannine way. From this last point of view it appears as the great self-sacrifice. He laid down His life that He might take it again. St. John wants to know what the Crucifixion teaches concerning the person of Christ. There are three ways of treating our Lord’s resurrection:

1. We may collect evidences of it as an actual event in history. This is the familiar method of the ordinary ministry. The evidences include
(1) Scriptural anticipations of it;
(2) Christ’s prophetic words in relation to it;
(3) historical facts concerning it;
(4) historical results of it, in the martyr-witness of apostles, and in the founding of the Church. 2. We may endeavour to discover the doctrinal significance of it. Christian facts and truths have been shaped into systems; for the completion of every system, Christ’s resurrection is found to be absolutely essential. No Christian doctrinal system will hold together that denies it.
3. We may try to get at the spiritual significance of it, as a revelational experience through which Christ passed. Revelational, as carrying a revelation to us concerning Christ’s person. This last is St. John’s way. It is suggestive to compare the accounts of the resurrection-period in the synoptists with those given in St. John. What St. John felt had been taught him concerning the person and relations of the Risen Christ is embodied in our text, which records an immediate revelation made to the apostle, but as truly expresses the sanctified impression of more than fifty years of thought about Christ, and fellowship with Him.

I. Christ as the Living One.—He has life in Himself. That life was in a human body. That life now is in a spiritual body. He is “Christ who is our life.” In what sense are we said to live? Distinguish the derived life of the creature from the absolute life of God. Compare the terms “Living one,” and “I am.” The manifested life is this Divine, uncaused, eternal life of God, set in human conditions and limitations.

II. Christ as the Life-yielding One.—Explain that the Divine life could not be yielded. Absolute, unbroken continuity belongs to its very essence. The manifest life, the human life which was the agency of the manifestation, alone could be yielded. The heresy attributed to Cerinthus was but an imperfect, unworthy, and dangerous setting of a spiritual truth, which needs to be recovered, and worthily stated. The Divine Being, Christ, did not die, could not die; the “Man, Christ Jesus,” died. Word-settings constantly imperil spiritual verities.

III. Christ as the Life-Resuming One.—“Am alive.” The idea which the apostles were likely to take up was that Christ was dead, because Christ’s body lay in Joseph’s new tomb. They had, therefore, in some outwardly evidential way, to be shown that His body was not He. It could be changed for a spiritual body, and He remain the same. He lives. It may be said, “Christ died.” And with equal truth it may be said, “Christ never died.”

IV. Christ as the Life-Giving One.—“Keys of Death and Hades.” He who has only derived life cannot quicken life. You may pull a flower to pieces, but you cannot put it together again, and breathe life into it, though you have a derived life in you. He who has life in Himself can quicken life. Death and Hades for bodies are but types of all kinds of deaths—deaths of feeling, deaths of power, deaths of sin, deaths of backsliding, deaths of doubt; but from all deaths the Risen and Living One can quicken us. St. John saw Christ in the vision as He is, as He permanently is, the Living One who gives life; who is ever giving life; who has come that “we may have life, and have it more abundantly.” That is our Christ. That is Christ who “is our life.”

The Self-description of the Risen Christ.

I. “I am He that liveth”.—That word “liveth” is a word of continuous, perpetual life. It describes the external existence which has no beginning and no end; which, considered in its purity and perfectness, has no present, and no past, but one eternal and unbroken present—one eternal now. It is the “I am” of the Jehovah who spoke to Moses. “He that liveth” is the Living One; He whose life is The Life, complete in itself, and including all other lives within itself. If anything has come to us to make us think what a fragmentary thing our human life is, there is no greater knowledge for us to win than that the life of One who loves us as Christ loves us is an eternal life, with the continuance and unchangeableness of eternity. It is the thought of an eternal God that really gives consistency to the fragmentary lives of men, the fragmentary history of the world.

II. “I am He that liveth, and was dead.”—Into that life of lives death has come—as an episode, an incident. When death came to Him it was seen to be, not the end of life, but only an event in life. It did not close His being, but it was only an experience which that being underwent. This is the wonder of Christ’s death. It was an experience of life, not an end of life. Life goes on through it and comes out unharmed.

III. “I am alive for evermore.”—This existence after death is special and different. “Alive for evermore” is an assurance that in the continued life which has once passed through the experience of death there is something new, another sympathy, the only one which before could have been lacking, with His brethren whose lot it is to die, and so a helpfulness to them which could not otherwise have been, even in His perfect love. This new life, the life that has conquered death by tasting it—this life stretches on and out for ever. Think what that great self-description of the Saviour means, and what it is to us. What do we need, we men? Think of the certainty, yet mystery, of death. Christ’s words come to us, and at once death changes from the terrible end of life into a most mysterious, but no longer terrible, experience of life. Not merely is there a future beyond the grave, but it is inhabited by One who speaks to us, who went there by the way that we must go, who sees us and can help us as we make our way along, and will receive us when we come there. Then is not all changed?

IV. “Have the keys of hell and of death.”—Hell, of course, means Hades, that unseen place, that place of departed spirits in which our creed expresses its belief. Christ, then, having experienced death, has the keys of death to open its meaning, and to guide the way through it for those who are to die like Him. It is because He died that He holds the keys of death. Can we not understand that? Do we not know how any soul that has passed through a great experience holds the keys of that experience, so that he can help those who have to pass through it? Having the keys of death and hell, He comes to us as we are drawing near to death, and He opens the door on both sides of it, and lets us look through it, and shows us immortality. What is it to be immortal and to know it? What is it to have death broken down, so that life stretches out beyond it—the same life as this, opening, expanding, but for ever the same essentially?

1. Think of the immense and noble freedom from many of the most trying and vexatious of our temptations, which comes to a man to whom the curtain has been lifted, and the veil rent in twain.
2. The whole position of duty is elevated by the thought, the knowledge, of immortality.
3. A new life is given to friendship, to all our best relations, to one another, by the power of immortality.—Phillips Brooks.

Revelation 1:18. Christ in Glory.—

1. These are the words of our Lord, and they were spoken by Him in glory. Some have gathered together the sayings of Christ in different periods. For instance, His utterances during His Passion; His Seven Sayings from the Cross on Good Friday; His words during the great Forty Days of the Risen Life; and His words from heaven. The Church to-day does not direct our eyes to the empty tomb, but to the vision of Christ in glory.

2. The words were addressed to St. John—the disciple whom Christ had drawn near to Him, with St. Peter and St. James, in the Garden of Gethsemane; the disciple who stood, with Christ’s blessed mother, beneath the cross, and watched Him in His dying hours; who was last at the cross and early at the sepulchre; the disciple “whom Jesus loved” (John 13:23). Differences of substance and style between the Apocalypse and the fourth gospel are certainly not sufficient to justify the conclusion that it is not the same St. John who wrote both.

3. They were words of encouragement. John had another legacy besides that blessed one, Christ’s mother; he had the legacy of tribulation. He was realising the Lord’s prophecy, “In the world ye shall have tribulation” (John 16:33). He was partaker “in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ.” He was an exile in the Isle of Patmos “for the testimony of Jesus Christ”—a wretched, barren, desolate spot; and then condemned to work in the mines, if the statement of Victorinus can be relied upon; at any rate, a solitary exile in a remote island. It was there the Lord appeared to His servant, to strengthen and sustain him. What do the words of the text teach us about Christ? What about ourselves?

I. They point to Christ in Glory.—

1. They may seem in this respect to antedate the Festival of the Ascension. Christ did not enter into glory—that is, did not visibly assume a glorious condition—on Easter Day. We know this by the narrative in the gospels. The glorious Form which appeared to St. John made him fall “at His feet as dead” (Revelation 1:17); but in the Risen Life, during the Great Forty Days, we read of no such manifestation. On the contrary, Christ is taken for the gardener. He stands, unknown, upon the shore; He joins the disciples on the road to Emmaus as an ordinary wayfarer; He dines with His disciples. No rays of glory emanate from His countenance or illuminate His garments. He does not force the human will to acknowledge Him by some overwhelming manifestation. When they saw Him on the mountain in Galilee, “some doubted” (Matthew 28:17). He reserved the light of glory till He entered the land of glory. He was “received up in glory” (1 Timothy 3:16). The Church seems to desire to set Christ before us in all His perfected glory in heaven, that our joy may be full; and our Lord Himself, in the same way, over leaps the interval between Easter and Ascension Day in the question to the two disciples: “Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into His glory?” (Luke 24:26).

2. The text teaches us the sameness of Christ, the identity of His person: “I am He that liveth, and was dead.” The angels impressed the same truth upon the minds of the apostles at the Ascension: “This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11). Our Lord not only speaks of Himself as the Living One, but also refers to His death: “and was dead.” I am the same you watched upon the cross. The waters of Lethe do not sponge out the marks of life on earth. Though in glory, the memory of the Passion was still fresh. He who was conceived and born of Mary, dwelt in Nazareth, preached in the towns and villages of Judæa and Galilee, died upon the cross, rested in Joseph’s tomb, went to “the spirits in prison,” vanquished death, and rose from the dead on the third day, is the same who sits in glory at the Father’s right hand.

II. The text carries with it the conviction of our own identity hereafter.—

1. The truth which Easter teaches is that of our own immortality. There are many “indications” of man’s survival after death, but only one proof. The yearning for a life beyond the grave has been regarded as a witness to its existence, on the ground that nature’s desires are not futile. The consciousness that we are something more than flesh has been appealed to. The analogy of chrysalis and butterfly has been laid under contribution as suggestive. The moral argument is, that if there be a just God, the “cruel wrongs of time” must be rectified hereafter. The simplicity of the soul’s essence has been regarded as inferring its indestructibility, and the scientific doctrine that no force is ever destroyed. The goodness and purpose of God in creating man have seemed incompatible with a belief in annihilation. These and other indications of man’s immortality can be enumerated, all forming accumulative inference of great force; but the one proof is the resurrection of Christ. He rose from the dead, “the First-fruits of them that slept” (1 Corinthians 15:20), and He entered into heaven “to open the kingdom of heaven to all believers.” The doctrine of our resurrection rests upon the historic fact of Christ’s resurrection. Life and immortality have been brought to light through the gospel (2 Timothy 1:10).

2. Further, we see that Easter teaches that our immortality is personal. The same who lived and died shall rise again and live for ever. No other immortality, of a lower kind, can satisfy us. The immortality of matter, of force, of mind, of love, of fame, are mere shadows; the substance is the survival of the personal life. The memory links us with the past; it is a ground of identification: “liveth, and was dead.” And this carries with it the truth of recognition in another life.

III. Lessons.—

1. Joy in the triumph of Christ over death and hell.
2. The realisation of a present Christ, who, though in glory, can be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, through His experience of trial and temptation, of suffering and death, whilst on earth.

3. To rise from the death of sin to the life of righteousness, from the penitence of Lent to the new life of Easter-tide.
4. Through the grace of Easter communion to seek the virtue of perseverance, so as not to fall back into sin, but, like Christ, to be “alive for evermore.”—“The Thinker.”

The Risen Saviour.—From death to life is the greatest possible transition, and this transition, in the case of Jesus of Nazareth, is the most marvellous as well as the most perfect. It is the only true victory ever won. Warriors conquer to be conquered. Tyrants rule with a rod of iron to fall under its stroke. All men that rise, rise to fall. From the dust we came, and to the dust we must return. But the text speaks of a final victory: “I am alive for evermore.” The aged St. John was an exile in the lone island of Patmos. He had been banished thither “for the word of God, and the testimony of Jesus Christ.” He was not there alone. John, “the beloved disciple,” and Jesus, the loving Saviour, have again met in a strange land. The visit of the Saviour was special, and John was elevated to heights of inspiration far above that which he had experienced before. He received visions and revelations of a transcendent nature. The whole panorama of the future passed before his eyes. He saw the rise and fall of empires. The terrible conflict between good and evil was waged in his presence. He saw the rise of the kingdom of the Messiah, and the New Jerusalem coming down from heaven. Patmos was the only place, and the banishment from Society the only condition, suitable to such a revelation. But the aged apostle needed the assurance that the old Master was communing with him. So he is led back to the impressive scene of the Crucifixion: “I am He that liveth, and was dead.” Some sixty years previously John stood before the cross, and for that long period he had preached Christ and Him crucified, in the cities of Asia Minor. He was drawn nearer to the Saviour than he had ever been before when he saw Him on the cursed tree. It was a time of sorrow, followed by a few days of painful suspense. But the spell was broken. The tidings came that Jesus was risen. Peter and John ran towards the sepulchre; John outran Peter, and was first at the grave. He found none there: the sepulchre was empty. Then, in the upper room, the tidings were confirmed, when His glorious form appeared, and the familiar Voice, was heard saying, “Peace be unto you!” Their hearts throbbed with that joy ever after. Finally, they saw Him ascend, and a cloud veiled Him, that they saw Him not again. There, on the road to Bethany, they knew that He was alive for evermore. John, in Patmos, felt that only one could have uttered the words of the text. To those who have afflicted their souls, and have deepened their sense of demerit in the garden and at the cross, we now say, Arise, wipe off your tears, remove the sackcloth of penitence, rejoice, and look at your Living Lord.

I. Let us contemplate the resurrection of the Lord as a great historical fact.—It is the central fact of Christianity, and the key-note of apostolic preaching. If the miracle of the resurrection of Jesus is a myth, the gospel has no sun for a centre of light and heat. The sanhedrin spread the calumny that the disciples stole the body. If so, we ask, what became of the body? The disciples were a few poor fishermen from Galilee, without standing or confederates at Jerusalem. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus were the only two persons of influence, in Jerusalem, who were in any way identified with Christ. Did they lend themselves to the fraud? Under the circumstances, and in such a climate, how was the removal and the re-interment of the body possible? Can you conceive of any band of men making a sacrifice of every comfort, and facing a frowning world, with its torture and death, to propagate a conscious fraud? We turn away in haste from the absurdity. Another supposition has been started: that the death of Jesus was only apparent. This incredible view received its birth from two cases of crucified persons restored to life, mentioned by the historian Josephus. Leaving aside the flat contradiction which even the sanhedrin would give to such a supposition, how was it possible to restore animation after the spear-wound in His side, and the long hours of interment? This hypothesis is a greater absurdity than the first. We mention a third supposition: that the various appearances of Christ to His disciples after His death were visions, or apparitions. In France the effort has been male to prove that Christianity owes its potency to the morbid condition of Mary Magdalene—yea, to the hallucination of a nervous woman. In Germany, Straus and others, with more apparent decency, have endeavoured to build up something like an argument on the power of vision, arising from a strong desire to see Jesus. When it is said that he appeared to the eleven, to Paul, and to more than five hundred brethren at once, we are simply to understand a mental vision, arising from the feeling of hero-worship. But we have so much supposition to make that the most elementary principles of psychology must be discarded to do so. We must suppose between five and six hundred persons to be exactly of the same temperament and expectation, so that they had precisely the same mental vision. These persons are credited with sincerity by the holders of this view; but, if so, the world would question their sanity. We have briefly stated absolutely all that has ever been advanced against the great fact of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. How flimsy! Human credulity even rejects all such suppositions. The resurrection of Christ is a significant fact. It brings to light the truth that there is a living and personal God—that He presides over human affairs. A revelation of His will is made, in which He has promised a Saviour for mankind. That Saviour is no other than His own Son. The resurrection verified the life of Jesus. St. Peter, looking at the perfection of that life, has said of death, “It was not possible that He should be holden of it.” Life is greater than mortality, and moral law is superior to the decay of nature. The natural order of creation is that life is stronger than death, otherwise spring would never follow winter. By analogy, a life of so much purity and force as that of Christ could not be holden of death. St. Paul speaks of the priesthood of Jesus as possessing the “power of an endless life”; and again the fact of the resurrection is confirmed by the abiding vitality of the Saviour’s life as witnessed in the lives of thousands. “Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.” The death on the cross is followed by life everlasting, both to the Holy Victim and to them that believe on Him. The miracle of the resurrection is the comment on the life which preceded it; it is the illumination of words spoken, deeds done, and sufferings borne. But, dear brethren, our thoughts run past these weighty considerations to the sacred Person Himself. We are ready to leave all prospects of life and happiness on one side, to welcome from the tomb the Friend of Sinners. “I am He that liveth.” Oh, word of joy! The raptures of our hearts know no bound—Jesus lives.

II. We further observe that henceforth the Living Christ is the object of our faith.—Having been buried with Him in death, we rise with Him into newness of life. But to rise into fellowship with the Living Christ, our faith must soar above the mere belief in historical Christianity. This sublime condition of fellowship implies association in thought with the risen Saviour. The person of Christ, not in form, but in fact, must engage our heart. Purity of thought, concentration of thought, and intensity of thought, alone can lead us to the living association with Jesus. The faith of the believer receives its strongest impetus from the fact that He who was dead is now alive. It imparts to the gospel its higher degree of life. Bodily presence we cannot have, neither do we realise each other’s love and service by presence always. Bodily presence creates mental absence. The Christ of the Resurrection became more real to the disciples than the Christ of the Crucifixion. Thomas believed because He saw, but “Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.” The Christian must realise more the power of faith. That faith increases in power as he lives near the Living Christ. Stand by the cross, and your faith works within a definite circle; but stand by the Risen Lord, and faith touches no circumference. The gospel, re-enacted in the heart and life, is our work. His marvellous teaching must speak to us with a living lip. We must lay hold of His hand to keep pace with His example. The power to destroy sin comes from fellowship with His sufferings. If we are compelled to go from the cross to the tomb, we need not linger there long, for He is in the upper room. Then we journey with Him to Emmaus, that He may open to us the Scriptures, and kindle the fire of His love within our breast. In Galilee also we receive our commission to work out life’s plan. Lastly, He is gone within the veil. The King of Glory has triumphantly entered, and is seated at the Father’s right hand. Will He think of us again? Hark to the sound of holy voices, singing His praise! See the golden crowns which are cast at His feet in honour of His person! Will He think of us again? Yes, oh, yes! He ever liveth to make intercession for us. The delightful life of daily and hourly communion with our living Saviour cannot be enjoyed by a mere contemplation of the fact that He is risen. The Holy Spirit is the true revealer of the Spiritual Christ. This truth was distinctly taught to the Church by the Saviour. We may have a very sincere desire to have the presence of Christ with us daily, but that blessing can only come through the Holy Ghost. The Spirit gives us the sight of the risen Lord. We cannot now hear Him speak except we have the ear circumcised by the Spirit. Heaven is far away from earth; He who fills the space between is the Spirit of God.

“Spirit of purity and grace,

Our weakness, pitying, see;

Oh, make our hearts Thy dwelling place,

And worthy Thee.”

III. And, lastly, we observe that the resurrection of Christ is the open door of immortality.—“But now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the first-fruits of them that slept.” These are the words with which we seek to succour the hearts of the bereaved. They are words of comfort in the deepest sorrow. The resurrection of the Lord shows that life is more than the animation of the organism of the brain. As animation moves the material form, so does life wear animation as a garment. But under it all is the living spirit. We are now unable to speak of the body that shall be: we are content with the promise that it will resemble His glorious body. The most astonishing words ever uttered by human lips are these: “I am the Resurrection and the Life.” Those who are in Christ are in life. The vision which was given to Hosea represents the Saviour at the gates of Hades, demanding the release of the prisoners: “I will ransom them from the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death; O death, I will be thy plagues; O grave, I will be thy destruction; repentance shall be hid from Mine eyes.’ ” He has taken the keys of helan from the hands of Pluto, and has opened the gates of the dark world. The first thought which engrosses our mind is the release of those who have entered from our side. To the aged there are many. Some of them are very near to our hearts. See the Risen Saviour standing at their grave, as He stood at the grave of Lazarus, saying, “Come forth.” Blessed thought: we shall see them again. Then comes the other thought, that we must soon enter the valley of death. It will not be long ere these bodies will lie in their graves, when the shades of death will hide from us everything earthly. His resurrection will throw light on the other side. Think for a moment of the glorious sight which the resurrection of Jesus suggests, when, in the last day, He will turn the key to open millions of graves. To-day the churchyard is the quiet resting place of many—the most peaceful spot on earth. But the day will come when the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised, incorruptible. We fear not death, for we have witnessed the death of Jesus; we dread not the grave, for we have been at the grave of Jesus. There is a resurrection into spiritual life, before the body can come up from the grave, fashioned after the body of His Glory.

“It is not death to fling

Aside this mortal dust,

And rise, on strong, exulting wing,

To live among the just.”

—“Weekly Pulpit.”

Easter Joy.—The Easter season is a time of great joy for all the children of God.

1. They rejoice on account of the completeness of the work of salvation. For when Christ had risen from the dead, He thereby had fully paid the wages of sin. God has accepted the death of His Son in the place of our death, and therefore has given us life.

2. All Christians rejoice on account of the excellent witnesses and testimonies concerning the resurrection of Christ. He appeared no fewer than ten different times after His resurrection, and on one occasion was seen of five hundred (1 Corinthians 15:5). He conversed and ate with His disciples alone (Acts 10:41). He permitted Himself to be touched by them (John 20:25; 1 John 1:1). Evidence of this kind admits of no contradiction. Even now He still furnishes the proof that He is alive by living in us (Galatians 2:20).

3. Christians rejoice in Easter because they have been given the seal and security of the gracious forgiveness of sins, of peace with God, so that they can, without fear, approach God, and know that He will come to them.
4. Christians rejoice because the resurrection of Christ is for them a comfort in death. Christ has sweetened death for the believers, has sanctified the grave, and they, too, shall enter into eternal life.
5. Christians, for these reasons, make it a special point to celebrate Easter-day by rejoicings of the heart, by meditation and prayer, and contemplation of the great things which God has done for them.
6. They strive daily to rise from the dead spiritually, to throw aside sin and evil deeds, and sanctify their lives to the service of God.—G. H. Schodde, Ph. D.

Symbol of the Keys.—As to keys, and the associated idea of unlocking, one need but compare Psalms 9:13; Isaiah 38:10; Matthew 16:18, in order to see that the Hebrews ascribed to the underworld or region of the dead doors or gates—imagery borrowed from the doors of sepulchres. In like manner the great Abyss has doors to be unlocked (Revelation 9:1; Revelation 20:1). The Rabbins say that God has reserved four keys to Himself, which He has not committed to any of the angels—viz., the key of rain, of aliment, of the sepulchre, and of parturiency. Wet-stein has many citations which show how common this sentiment was among them. If it were prevalent when the Apocalypse was written, and John had any respect to it in the passage before us, it would furnish another particular in which he ascribes to the Saviour the prerogatives of the Godhead.—Moses Stuart.

The Living Lord.—The Isle of Patmos is of undying interest to the Christian Church. Yet it is not the kind of interest that makes us want to visit the lonely place. Perhaps we should understand the book of Revelation better if we could study it among the very scenes that helped to give tone and shape to the writer’s imaginations. Patmos is a rocky and bare island of the Ægean Sea. On account of its stern and desolate character it was used under the Roman empire as a place of banishment. “As the coast is approached from the sea, it is found to be high and comprising many promontories and bays, which give to the whole a very irregular appearance. The only port that is used is a deep bay, sheltered by high mountains on every side but one, where it is protected by a projecting cape. Above the landing place is a small village, comprising about fifty habitations, and situated on the edge of a vast crater, sloping off on either side, like the roof of a tiled house.” The famous grotto, or cavern, where the apostle is said to have written the book of Revelation, is situated on the face of the hill about half-way between the town and the port. A traveller helps us to realise the scene on which the banished apostle must often have gazed. “The time when the island appears in its best position is during the rising and setting of the sun. Whether viewed in dim perspective, through grey and silvery mists, or amidst hues of liveliest purple, the isles and continent of Greece present their varied features, which neither pen nor pencil can adequately portray. Picture an evening sun, behind the towering cliffs of Patmos, gilding the battlements of the monastery of the Apocalypse with its parting rays—the island, surrounded by inexpressible brightness, seeming to float upon an abyss of fire, while the moon, in milder splendour, is rising full over the opposite expanse.” A poetic soul could not fail to be affected by the influence of such surroundings. To the lonely man came wonderful visions, weird as ever were given to the prophets of the olden time. But the first, the introductory vision, which was the key to all the rest, was the vision of the Risen, Living, Glorified, Present-working Master and Lord, whose name John loved to bear, and for whose sake John was then a banished and persecuted man. Then, and always, the key to everything is fuller apprehension of the person and the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ. One thing above all others we desire, even as did the apostle Paul before us: that we may “know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings.” We must know Him in the exercise of Christian thought. St. John knew Him with the aid of suggestive symbolic representations. But what he came to know we can learn from him; and it was this: Christ bears present and saving relations to men through all the progress of human history. Jesus lives. He has come again to the world. He is in the world. He is adequately endowed for the conflict with evil. He is living Saviour; Captain of salvation. The text is a part of Christ’s own explanation of the symbols in which He had presented Himself to the beloved St. John. We notice—

I. The mystery behind Christ.—“Was dead.” This is the assertion of a fact which carries the profoundest significance with it. It brings to mind the most wonderful event that ever occurred in human history. Not most wonderful, even, as the death of an innocent man by torturing crucifixion, but most wonderful as the submission to human death of one who was the Son of God, with power. It is not only an historical fact, it is a cherished memory that is full of gracious influence. Thoughtful souls are never made so gentle, so tender, as when they meditate in full view of Him who died. But why, when Christ is showing Himself as the Living One, does He recall His death? It must have been to call back to St. John’s mind His veritable humanity. Nothing stamps a man as a man more than the fact that he will have to die; “there is no discharge from that war.” We know Jesus Christ was a real brother-man, for He died. It was also necessary for Christ to qualify the glorious vision in which He appeared to St. John, or it might so absorb his attention as to keep away from his thought the competency of Christ for the work which He had to do as the Living One. He who died must have passed through a life before He died, and so He must have gained actual and full experience of our human needs and sorrows, and must be able to succour the tempted, and to redeem His Church from all evil, seeing “He was in all points tempted like as we are.” But the place taken by Christ’s death in His own representation of Himself needs our special notice. He does not put the death first. The greatest, and most important, of all truths for His Church is this: “I am He that liveth.” The second truth is: “I was dead.” The apostle Paul apprehended the same relative position of the two truths when he wrote, “It is Christ that died, yea, rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.” Only as we set these two truths in their right relations can we apprehend one of the deeper meanings of Christ’s death. It was the experience, and the obedience, through which He gained both the right and the fitness to be the “bringer-on of sons unto glory.” For that work He was “made perfect through suffering.” Gaining His fitness to be the ever-living Saviour lights up the deeper meanings of the life of Christ as well as of His death. It helps us to understand that salvation is His personal work. It is only a part of the truth to say, “He has saved us”; the rest of the truth is this: “He is saving us.” “He is able to save unto the uttermost.” His healings of the sick, and lame, and leprous, when He dwelt among men, and “wore earth about Him,” do but show what He can now do in souls. He is “alive for evermore,” and we can come to Him, soul-blind, soul-lame, and receive, direct from Him, healing and life.

II. The glory in Christ.—“He that liveth.” “Am alive for evermore.” This is no mere assertion of His resurrection from the dead. It is the declaration, “I am the living One.” As in the days of His flesh, our Lord affirmed that “He had life in Himself.” He was “the Life.” In Christ’s continuous, eternal life, that human death was only an episode. “When death came to Him, it was seen to be, not the end of life, but only an event in life. It did not close His being, but it was only an experience which that being underwent. That spiritual existence which had been going on for ever, on which the short existences of men had been strung into consistency, now came and submitted itself to that which men had always been submitting to. And lo! instead of being what men feared it was, what men had hardly dared to hope that it was not—the putting out of life—it was seen to be only the changing of the circumstances of life, without any power over the real principle of life—any more power than the cloud has over the sun that it obscures, or than the ocean has over the bubble of air that it buries fathoms deep, but whose buoyant nature it cannot destroy, nor hinder it from struggling towards, and sometimes reaching to, the surface of the watery mass that covers it. That was the wonder of Christ’s death. He passed into it for love of us. And as He came out from it, He declared its nature. It is an experience of life, not an end of life. Life goes on through it and comes out unharmed.” This is shown us in the vision of Him who “liveth, and was dead.” But to St. John’s mind that visioned Figure might seem to be an appearance only, a symbol, a picture-teaching. He must learn that it was but the garment, the setting, the manifestation of a real, living Being; only figured in this way in order to help St. John, and us, to realise what Jesus Christ still is, and what are the relations in which He still stands to His Church, and what is the work that He still has to do, in the Church, and in the world. And is not this truth, that Christ is the “Living Saviour,” a new revelation, even to us? So strangely Christian doctrine strives to gather our supreme interest about our Saviour’s death; and once a year we break loose to glory in the Risen and Living Christ of the Easter memories. Christian doubts and fears too often cling about the Saviour dead, and we cannot rise into the heaven of our hope in the Living One, and sing away our fears. And sometimes our strange Christian infirmities even make us wish Him dead; for we do not want a Saviour who is actually working now, cleansing now, finding out the sin-stains in His people, washing them away, and seeking to make His people “whiter than snow.” So it is the ever-new gospel we need to hear again to-day: Jesus lives. More than all He was to His disciples, in the days of His flesh, He is to us. His relations to them were really spiritual relations, but they were illustrated for them by actual bodily associations. His relations with us are spiritual relations, and they are illustrated for us in the records of His human life with His disciples. If we can enter into the inner mysteries, then we say, Christ has come again, even as He promised. Indeed, He never really went away. He only passed out of sense apprehensions. He is here: free from bodily limitations; His name is still “Emmanuel Jesus,” “God with us,” saving us—not “who has saved us”—“from our sins.”

III. The present mission of Christ.—“Have the keys of hell and of death.” I need not explain that “hell” here is really “Hades,” the resting place of disembodied spirits; nor need I tell you more than that the “keys” are the symbol of authority. The steward in possession goes about with the keys hanging from his shoulder, as the sign of his office. But it cannot surely be the present glory of Christ, that He has merely to open the gates of death, and rule the spirits in Hades? This is teaching by figure and symbol. Just as leprosy is taken as the type of all diseases, so “death and hell” stand as types of all the forces that resist the progress of Christian life in the individual, and the extension of Christ’s Church. “Death” stands as the representative of all the material forces; “Hades” stands as the representative of all the immaterial, unseen, spiritual forces; for we wrestle against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” When we see “death and hell” standing for all the material and spiritual oppositions to the progress of Christ’s Church, we begin to understand why Christ was figured to St. John as the “infinitely white One,” who is white, and liveth to make white. The full figure is given in the first chapter, as bearing relation to the whole Church, and its entire circle of needs. And then Christ is visioned in parts, those sides of Christ’s living power being chosen which bear direct relation to each of the Seven Churches—to the weaknesses, the sins, and the perils, of each. This is the truth shining forth from our text: the White Christ is alive, and is working to make His Church white, as He is white. Are you a seeker for salvation? See! Christ liveth, and can save you. Are you a Christian, battling with sin! See! you do not struggle alone; Christ is with you in the fight. Are you a Christian in the world of peril and temptation? See! the Hebrew youths were safe, even in the fire, when one was with them like unto the Son of God. To the Church, groaning under the burdens of her disability we say, Let her arise, shake herself from the dust, and win her victories, for her Lord lives, He “is alive for evermore.”

Resurrection in Retrospect.—The true explanation of the extreme distress and perplexity of our Lord’s disciples lies in this: the resurrection of Christ they could not understand, they could not believe. And this condition of mind continued till the event actually took place. But what a difference there is between resurrection in prospect and resurrection in retrospect! No change in any recorded history or any known biography is more startling. The whole mind of the Christian disciples, in reference to the resurrection of their Lord, is suddenly transfigured, and that which they looked forward to dimly, timidly, unwillingly, they now look back upon with undoubting and exulting confidence. It has been said—

1. That there was a fraud: Christ did not really rise, but His disciples practised a deception. But falsehood in one thing does not fit a truthful and genuine religion; and falsehood does not make men brave.

2. That the death of Christ was an imaginary death. But Christ prophesied and expected His death; and the physical conditions narrated involve actual death.

3. The belief in the resurrection was the result of a waking dream. But there is no conceivable basis for any such idea in the record. We cannot separate the thought of our own resurrection from the thought of that rising of Christ; nor ought we to separate them. At present our resurrection is in prospect, and we know not what it will be. But it will not be so always. The time will come when all will be behind us—when all the past will be clearly known and well remembered. Then it will be resurrection in retrospect. We shall look back on the life we led here. This we know as to the future, that if we are true Christians we shall then be with Him “who liveth, and was dead, and is alive for evermore”; and “because He liveth, we shall live also.”—Dean Howson.

The Keys of Hell and of Death.

I. The keys symbolise sovereignty.—And the sovereignty referred to is in the hands of Christ. He is the Everlasting One who was dead and is alive again for evermore. Upon Christ’s head “are many crowns”; in Him are vested many sovereignties. Nature is His, for He made it. Mind is His, for He created it. Angels are His, for they worship Him. Men are His, for He redeemed them. The Church is His, for He purchased it with His own blood. And over all is He the Supreme Ruler. There is not an atom or a force of nature; not a form or function of life; not a type or order of intelligence; not a nation or grade of moral being; not a condition or circumstance of existence;—over which His throne flings not its shadow or shelter. It is of the sovereignty of this ascended, triumphant, glorified, and enthroned Jesus that the Spirit speaks in this sublime portion of Holy Writ. Here you have the range of His Kingship; the province of His empire; the process of His government; the antagonisms with which He wrestles; the methods by which He puts down all rule and authority—curbs the rage of men, confounds the schemes of hell, rolls back the swelling billows of error and vice, conserves the truth, enshields His Church, and finally sits enthroned upon the homage, reverence, and love, of a redeemed and glorified humanity! Among the antagonisms of that humanity, death, in form most hideous; death, with its most terrific symbols and enginery; death, with its cruel mockings;—threatens to extinguish the race. Christ knows and feels all this. And that there might not be a moment’s misgiving or shadow of anxiety, He reveals Himself, clothed in attributes and belted with potencies which qualify Him for all the emergencies which await the Church of the future, till time shall be no longer. He knows her, for He ever walks in the midst of the golden candlesticks. Her members droop and die; He is alive for evermore. Her foes wield the dread sceptre of destruction, but they know not that it is under Him, and because of His permission, and subject to His control, that they waste and lay low the vineyard of the Lord of Hosts; for “He has the keys of hell and of death.”

II. Christ is sovereign of death.—“He has the keys of … death.” That death is not an outlaw we might anticipate, seeing that there is nothing around us not subject to law. Life, in all its beauties, melodies, and beatitudes, is everywhere and always under law. Shall it be that such an agency as death shall act defiant of law? When we remember the agonies which it can extract; the energies which it can paralyse; the hopes which it can blast; the homes which it can disrupt and desolate: how it can revel in ruin and banquet upon groans, and quaff the chalice filled with tears wrung from poor widows’ and orphans’ hearts; how, with dread might, it can strew earth with the wreck and spoil of noble manhood and cultured womanhood; how, in a moment, the result of long, long years of the training of character for the highest service of humanity can be frustrated;—then we ask again, “Is death an exception to the general fact that law prevails throughout God’s universe?” Can it be that such a monster is loose, with no hook in his jaw and no bridle to his power? Does not He, who guides Arcturus, wheels the comet, rides upon the whirlwind, rims in old Ocean, chains the fire-fiend, enkindles and extinguishes the volcano; who bids the seasons from their palaces in the heavens march forth to fling their treasures over the habitable earth;—does not He control and order this overshadowing hierarchy of death? Yes! thanks to His ever-blessed name, “He has the keys … of death!” He is King of kings, and the “King of Terrors” is but a vassal prince, without right of independent sovereignty, and altogether subject to Him who in His own person conquered death and the grave. He opens the gates of death and no man shuts. He shuts and no man opens. No saint or servant of His can die, but as He permits it. Not a foothold is there for Chance. Within the domain of death, unknown to Him, the grave cannot seize another victim. No march of spoliation can death steal upon the hosts of God’s elect. Their Captain is all-vigilant, and, should the unauthorised arrow fly, His shield shall turn and shiver it. “He has the keys of death.”

III. He has also the keys of Hell.—“Hell,” or Hades, here refers to the invisible world of spirits. The sovereignty of this invisible world owns Christ’s sceptre. It is within His empire. Who dare compute the myriads on myriads congregated there! And they are all there living! “All live unto Him.”—J. O. Peck, D.D.

Revelation 1:20. Holding the Stars.—The hand that holds the seven stars is as loving as the hand that was laid in blessing upon the little children. The face that is as the sun shining in its strength beams with as much love as when it drew publicans and harlots to His feet. The breast that is girt with the golden girdle is the same breast upon which John leaned his happy head.—A. Maclaren, D.D.

The Angels of the Churches.—This title appears to have been borne by the ministers of the synagogues among the Jews. The business of this officer, who was always called a bishop of the congregation, was to offer prayers for the whole assembly, to which the people answered, “Amen,” and to preach, if there were no other to discharge that office. The reading of the law was not properly his business, but every Sabbath he called out seven of the synagogue, and on other days fewer, to perform that duty. The angel stood by the person that read, to correct him if he read improperly. He took care also that worship was performed without disorder and with all regularity. By a name probably borrowed from the synagogue the bishops and pastors of the Seven Churches of Asia Minor are termed the “angels” of the Churches. It is very reasonable to suppose that Paul alludes to this name when he says that women ought to be covered before the angels (1 Corinthians 11:10). Bishops, or ministers of Christian Churches, are often called “angels” by the earlier writers. It is, however, better to regard the angel of the Church as the ideal embodiment (so to speak) of the Church, rather than any particular official. “The angel of the Church would be the spiritual personification of the Church—the Church, seen in its heavenly representative, and seen, therefore, in the light of those splendid possibilities which are hers if she holds fast by Him who holds the seven stars.

The General Idea of the Picture of the Seven Churches.—It contains the portraiture of all the shades and, in a manner, the statistics of all the spiritual states, either of good or evil, in which Christianity on earth may find itself. The Lord chose, in order to characterise these seven degrees, the Churches of the country in which John lived, which embodied most perfectly these seven types. The number seven indicates here, as it always does, a totality. But the idea of the book is that of a simultaneous, not that of a successive, totality, as those think who see in these seven Churches the portraiture of the principal phases of the history of the Church. One may, doubtless, by taking up this latter standpoint, succeed in bringing out some ingeniously conceived points of harmony, but they always have a somewhat arbitrary character. Besides, the subject itself of this first part is against such an interpretation. It is the starting point of the Lord’s progress which should be here indicated; this starting point is the state of the Church at the time of the vision, and not the unrolling of its future history, which is contained rather in the subsequent visions.—F. Godet, D.D.

The Universal Church.—We are introduced, in chaps. 2, 3, to the Universal Church under the presentation given of seven Churches of Asia selected for that purpose. These Churches are so selected that they present us with a picture of the various elements that make up the Church’s life. We see her in herself and in her relation to the world; in her strength and in her weakness; in her steadfastness and in her declensions; in her prosperity and in her sufferings; in her outward poverty and in her true riches; in the distinction existing between the real and nominal followers of Christ within her borders; in the just indignation of her Supreme Head against the one, and in His leading the other to the full possession of His own triumph in the presence of His Father and their Father, of His God and their God.—W. Milligan, D.D.

ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 1

Revelation 1:18. The Classical Idea of “Hades.”—The Greek word “Hades” in the New Testament, and the Hebrew word “Sheol” in the Old Testament, are used in the most general sense to denote the state of the dead, including the grave as the residence of the body, and the world of spirits as the abode of the soul. The Hebrew idea of it is perhaps most fully given in Job 10:21. But it may be interesting to compare the pagan notion from which the word “Hades” is taken. The name was given by the ancient Greeks and Romans, and especially by the poets, to Pluto, the god who was supposed to preside over the infernal regions. He is represented as being the son of Chronos and Rhea, the husband of Persephone, and the brother of Zeus and Poseidon. He bore the character of being a fierce, cruel, and inexorable tyrant, dreaded by mortals, who, when they invoked him, struck the earth with their hands, sacrificed black sheep in his honour, and in offering their sacrifices stood with averted faces. The grim Hades shuts up the shades of the dead in his dark domains. His wife Persephone shared the throne of the lower world with her cruel husband. And not only did Hades rule over infernal regions; he was considered also as the author of those blessings which spring from the earth, and more especially of those rich mineral treasures which are contained in the bowels of the earth.

CHAPTER 2