this narrative. To take another view of the varying lights on that picture: Jesus weary and thirsty by Jacob's Well, and the water of life which was to spring from, and by that Well, with its unfailing supply and its unending refreshment! The spiritual in all this bears deepest symbolic analogy to the outward, yet with such contrasts also, as the woman giving to Christ the one, He to her the other; she unconsciously beginning to learn, He unintendingly (for He had not even entered Sychar) beginning to teach, and that, what He could not yet teach in Judaea, scarcely even to His own disciples; then the complete change in the woman, and the misapprehension [a St. John iv. 33.] and non-reception [b ii. 13-iv. 54.] of the disciples, and over it all the weary form of the Man Jesus, opening as the Divine Christ the well of everlasting life, the God-Man satisfied with the meat of doing the Will, and finishing the Work, of Him that sent Him: such are some of the thoughts suggested by the scene.
And still others rise, as we think of the connection in the narrative of St. John of this with what preceded and with what follows. It almost seems as if that Gospel were constructed in cycles, each beginning, or at least connected, with Jerusalem, and leading up to a grand climax. Thus, the first cycle [b ii. 13-iv. 54.] might be called that of purification: first, that of the Temple; then, inward purification by the Baptism from above; next, the symbolic Baptism of water; lastly, the real water of life given by Jesus; and the climax, Jesus the Restorer of life to them that believe. Similarly, the second cycle, [c v.-vi. 3.] beginning with the idea of water in its symbolic application to real worship and life from Jesus, would carry us a stage further; and so onward throughout the Gospel. Along with this we may note, as another peculiarity of the Fourth Gospel, that it seems arranged according to this definite plan of grouping together in each instance the work of Christ, as followed by the illustrative word of Christ. Thus the fourth would, both externally and internally, be the pre-eminently Judoean Gospel, characterised by cyclical order, illustrative conjunction of work and word, and progressively leading up to the grand climax of Christ's last discourses, and finally of His Death and Resurrection, with the teaching that flows from the one and the other.
It was about six o'clock in the evening, [1 We have already expressed our belief, that in the Fourth Gospel time is reckoned not according to the Jewish mode, but according to the Roman civil day, from midnight to midnight. For a full discussion and proof of this, with notice of objections, see McLellan's New Test. vol. i. pp. 737- 743. It must surely be a lapsus when at p. 288 (note o), the same author seems to assume the contrary. Meyer objects, that, if it had been 6 P.M., there would not have been time for the after-events recorded. But they could easily find a place in the delicious cool of a summer's evening, and both the coming up of the Samaritans (most unlikely at noon-time), and their invitation to Jesus 'to tarry' with them (v. 40), are in favour of our view. Indeed, St. John xix. 14 renders it impossible to adopt the Jewish mode of reckoning.] when the travel-stained pilgrims reached that 'parcel of ground' which, according to ancient Jewish tradition, Jacob had given to his son Joseph. [2 See a previous note on p. 404.] Here (as already stated) by the 'Well of Jacob' where the three roads, south, to Shechem, and to Sychar (Askar), meet and part, Jesus sat down, while the disciples (probably with the exception of John) went on to the closely adjoining little town of Sychar to buy food. Even this latter circumstance marks that it was evening, since noon was not the time either for the sale of provisions, nor for their purchase by travellers. Once more it is when the true Humanity of Jesus is set before us, in the weakness of His hunger and weariness, [3 Godet rightly asks what, in view ofthis, becomes of the supposed Docetism which, according to the Tubingen school, is one of the characteristics of the Fourth Gospel?] that the glory of His Divine Personality suddenly shines through it. This time it was a poor, ignorant Samaritan woman, [4 By which we are to understand a woman from the country, not the town or Samaria, a Samaritaness. The suggestion, that she resorted to Jacob's Well on account of its sanctity, scarcely requires refutation.] who came, not for any religious purpose, indeed, to whom religious thought, except within her own very narrow circle, was almost unintelligible, who became the occasion of it. She had come, like so many of us, who find the pearl in the field which we occupy in the business of every day-life, on humble, ordinary duty and work. Men call it common; but there is nothing common and unclean that God has sanctified by making use of it, or which His Presence and teaching may transform into a vision from heaven.
There was another well (the 'Ain 'Askar), on the east side of the little town, and much nearer to Sychar than 'Jacob's Well;' and to it probably the women of Sychar generally resorted. It should also be borne in mind, that in those days such work no longer devolved, as in early times, on the matrons and maidens of fair degree, but on women in much humbler station. This Samaritaness may have chosen 'Jacob's Well,' perhaps, because she had been at work in the fields close by; or else, because her abode was nearer in that direction, for the ancient Sychar may have extended southward; perhaps, because, if her character was what seems implied in verse 18, the concourse of the more common women at the village-well of an evening might scarcely be a pleasant place of resort to one with her history. In any case, we may here mark those Providential leadings in our everyday life, to which we are so often almost as much spiritually indebted, as to grace itself; which, indeed, form part of the dispensation of grace. Perhaps we should note how, all unconsciously to her (as so often to us), poverty and sin sometimes bring to the well by which Jesus sits weary, when on His return from self-righteous Judaea. But these are only symbols; the barest facts of the narrative are themselves sufficiently full of spiritual interest. Both to Jesus and to the woman, the meeting was unsought, Providential in the truest sense, God-brought. Reverently, so far as the Christ is concerned, we add, that both acted truly, according to what was in them. The request: 'Give Me to drink,' was natural on the part of the thirsty traveller, when the woman had come to draw water, and they who usually ministered to Him were away, [a ver. 8.] Even if He
had not spoken, the Samaritaness would have recognised the Jew by His appearance [1 According tothe testimony of travellers the Samaritans, with the exception of the High-Priestly family, have not the common, well- known type of Jewish face and feature.] and dress, if, as seems likely, He wore the fringes on the border of His garment. [2 The 'fringes' on the Tallith of the Samaritans are blue, while those worn by the Jews, whether on the Arba Kanphoth or the Tallith, are white. The Samaritans do not seem to have worn phylacteries (Menach. 42 b). But neither did many of the Jews of old, nor, I feel persuaded, our Lord (comp. Jost, Gesch. d. Judenth. vol. i. p. 60).] His speech would, by its pronunciation, place His nationality beyond doubt. [3 There were, undoubtedly, marked differences of pronunciation between the Jews and the Samaritans. Without entering into details, it may be said, that they chiefly concern the vowel-sounds; and among consonants the gutturals (which are generally not pronounced), the aspirates, and the letter () which is not, as in Hebrew, either ( ) (pronounced s), or ( ) (pronounced sh), but is always pronounced as 'sh.' In connection with this we may notice one of those instances, how a strange mistake comes 'by tradition' to be commonly received. It has been asserted that, if Jesus had said to the woman: Teni li lishtoth ('Give me to drink'), a Samaritan would have pronounced it listoth, since the Samaritans pronounced the sh as s. But the reverse of this is the fact. The Samaritans pronounced the s ('sin') as sh ('shin'), and not the sh as s. The mistake arose from confounding the old Ephraimite (Judg. xii. 5, 6) with the Samaritan mode of pronouncing. The suggestion seems first to have been made, through very doubtfully, by Stier (Reden Jesu, iv. p. 134). Stier, however, at least rendered the words of Jesus: Teni li lishtoth. Godet (ad loc.) accepts Stier's suggestions, but renders the words: Teni li lishchoth. Later writers have repeated this, only altering lishchoth into lishkoth.] Any kindly address, conveying a request not absolutely necessary, would naturally surprise the woman; for, as the Evangelist explanatively adds: 'Jews have no dealings with Samaritans,' [1 The article is wanting in the original.] or rather, as the expression implies, no needless, friendly, nor familiar intercourse with them, a statement true at all times. Besides, we must remember that this was an ignorant Samaritaness of the lower order. In the mind of such an one, two points would mainly stand out: that the Jews in their wicked pride would have no intercourse with them; and that Gerizim, not Jerusalem, as the Jews falsely asserted, was the place of rightful worship. It was, therefore, genuine surprise which expressed itself in the question: 'How is it, Thou, being a Jew, of me askest to drink?' It was the first lesson she learned, even before He taught her. Here was a Jew, not like ordinary Jews, not like what she had hitherto thought them: what was the cause of this difference?
Before we mark how the answer of Jesus met this very question, and so as to direct it to spiritual profit, another and more general reflection presses on our minds. Although Jesus may not have come to Sychar with the conscious purpose of that which ensued, yet, given the meeting with the Samaritan woman, what followed seems almost matter of necessity. For it is certain that the Christ, such as the Gospels describe Him, could not have been brought into contact with spiritual ignorance and want, any more than with physical distress, without offering it relief. It was, so to speak, a necessity, alike of His Mission and of His Nature (as the God-Man). In the language of another Gospel, 'power went out from Him;' and this, whether consciously sought, or unconsciously felt after in the stretching forth of the hands of the sightless or in the upward look of the speechless. The Incarnate Son of God could not but bring health and life amidst disease and death; the Saviour had come to seek and to save that which was lost.
And so it was, that the 'How is it?' of the Samaritan women so soon, and so fully, found its answer. 'How is
