brevity. It would follow that, without the change of a single word, the hearers might interpret the story as follows: "Jesus rebuked the wind, saying to it, Be thou muzzled. His disciples marvelled, saying, What is this? With authority he commandeth even the winds and they obey him."
But you may say perhaps, "Jesus could not use such an extraordinary phrase as 'Be thou muzzled,' in addressing the wind. To a human being it would be applicable, or even to a spirit, but not to the wind." Well, it certainly would be rather unusual: but turn to St. Mark iv. 39, and you will there find a passage telling you how, in a storm at sea, Jesus awoke and "rebuked the wind" with the words "Be thou muzzled (Φιμώθητι)," and how the wondering disciples said to one another, "Who is this that even the wind (Matthew and Luke, 'the winds') and sea obey him?" It appears to me by no means unlikely that we have here two versions of the same tradition; the one in the earlier chapter of St. Mark representing the facts; the other in the later chapter resulting from a misunderstanding of the facts, whence there sprang up the amplified and beautiful tradition of the Stilling of the Storm—a story which must have in all ages commended itself to the Church, and may still commend itself, by reason of its deep spiritual truth, but which ought, in this age, to be recognized as in all probability, not historically true.
Neither of the above-mentioned explanations of this miraculous narrative appears to me by any means certain; but either seems to me decidedly more likely than that Jesus so far raised Himself above the conditions of humanity as to rebuke and check the winds and the seas. If I interpret the life of Christ aright, He neither did, nor wished to do, any such thing, and would have regarded the suggestion to do it as a temptation from
