Some critics have accused Ellen White of plagiarizing the contents of The Desire of Ages from the writings of various authors. But, did she really? Below is an analysis of the alleged comparisons.
One problem with those who are "victims" of parallelomania is that they confuse the mere presence of a few words in both texts as being evidence of plagiarism. They completely overlook the context and meaning of the words that are similar, an even more importantly, the far greater number of words that are dissimilar.
It has been noted by students of plagiarism that one can make a work look plagiarized when it is not by carefully using ellipses and discarding all the material that is different. What we want to do is determine whether the critics did a fair analysis, or whether their comparisons actually distorted reality. Accordingly, we have coded the text so that you, the reader, can easily come to your own conclusion. Paragraphs that are not coded means that neither the critics, nor Dr. Veltman and his team of researchers, could not, or did not, find anything worthy of note.
Material in Ellen G. White that is an exact, word-for-word match to her alleged source.
Material in Ellen G. White that is similar to her alleged source.
Words that are either an exact, or similar, match of the source, but are also an exact, or similar, match to Biblical material.
Material that is represented in either Rea's book or Dr. Veltman's study by an ellipsis.
Material dropped from the beginning or end of the paragraph of the alleged source in Rea's book.
Material clipped from the beginning or end of a sentence in Rea's book, without giving the reader any indication of such. (Either a capital letter or a period appears where it should not, hiding the fact that material is missing.)
Material that was mis-capitalized or mis-abbreviated in Rea.
Typical author's caveat: all errors are, of course, mine. If you find any errors please let me know and I'll fix them.
|W. Hanna The Life of Christ. (1863)||Ellen G. White The Desire of Ages. (1898)|
I. The Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem--Jesus Weeping over the City
Matt. 21:1-11; Mark 11:1-11; Luke 19:29-44; John 12:12-18.
The road from Jericho to Jerusalem, as it winds up the eastern slopes of Olivet, passes close by the village of Bethany. From the village a footpath runs up to the top of the mount, and thence down a steep declivity into the ravine of the Kedron. This being the shortest, may have been the path ordinarily taken by the villagers when going on foot to and from Jerusalem. It was not the way that any rider, not the way that the caravans of Passover pilgrims coming up from Jericho, would choose. They naturally would take the somewhat longer, but much better and more level road, which runs round the southern shoulder of the ridge as it shelves down toward the Mount of Offence. The single circumstance that, on the occasion now before us, Jesus rode into the city, might of itself have led us to believe that it was by the latter road he went. Still further confirmation of this meets us as we enter into the details of this short but ever memorable procession.
This quiet day of Sabbatic rest at Bethany is over. Released from its restraints, visitors my now freely pass from Jerusalem to Bethany. Of this freedom numbers avail themselves, and the village is crowded. It is understood that at some time in the course of the day--the first day of the week--Jesus means to go into the city. During the forenoon the tidings of his intention are widely circulated. It was now but four days to the Passover, and the crowds of pilgrims, requiring as they did a day or two of preparation, have nearly all arrived. In and about Jerusalem between two and three millions of
Page 494people--more than a third of the entire population of Judea and Galilee--are assembled. The town itself is unable to afford accommodation to all the strangers. The environs all around are studded with booths and tents. The side of Olivet that looks toward the city, not the least favorite suburb, along which the road from Jericho descends, is covered with these temporary erections. In the afternoon Jesus leaves the village and joins the companies coming up from the valley of the Jordan. The road winds southward for a short distance out upon a ledge of the mountain, from the top of which is caught a distant view of a part of mount Zion lying outside the walls, the great city itself being concealed. At this point, immediately before and beneath the traveler, there is a deep hollow running up into and dying out upon the hill side, to avoid descending into which the road takes first a sudden bend to the right, till it reaches nearly to the top of the ravine, and then turns again to the left, to traverse the opposite spur of the mountain. Pausing for a moment at this spot, Jesus sees 'over against' him, across the hollow, the village of Bethphage. Calling two of his disciples he bids them go by the short cut across the valley to the village, and bring an ass and a colt that they find there, and to have them ready upon the road running near Bethphage by the time he and the rest of the disciples have made the round by the head of the hollow. The disciples listen with wonder to these instructions. It is but a short distance into the town--an hour's walk, or less; it cannot be through weariness that Jesus wishes to have an ass to ride upon. He had seldom if ever before used this mode of traveling, one not having any special dignity in our eyes, but one that highest dignitaries in the East, kings and princes, prophets and priests, might not unsuitably, upon the most important occasions, make use of it. Can it be that the hour so long waited for has come? Can it be that Jesus
Page 495is about to throw off his disguise, assume his real rank and character, and enter the capital as the king of the Jews? As they move on, groups of pilgrims coming out from Jerusalem meet them by the way. To them they tell the orders Christ has given--tell the hopes that are rising in their hearts. The excitement spreads and deepens. They meet the asses by the way. It is the colt, the one upon which no man yet had sat, that Jesus chooses. They cast their garments on it, and set him thereon. They hail him as their messiah, their King. He does now what he never so fully did before: he accepts the title, he receives the homage. All is true, then, that they had been thinking and hoping. It is openly and avowedly as Christ their king that he is about to go into Jerusalem.
Then let all the honors that they can give him be bestowed. It is but little of outward pomp or splendor they can throw around this regal procession. They cannot turn the narrow mountain path into a broad and covered roadway for their king, but they can strip off their outer garments, and cast them as a carpet beneath his feet. They can cut down leafy branches from the olive-trees and strew them in his way. Royal standards they have none to carry, they have no emblazoned flags of victory to wave. No choice instruments of music are here, through which practiced lips may pour the swelling notes of joy and triumph, but they can pluck the palm-tree branches (nature's own emblems of victory) and wave them over his head, and they can raise their voices in hosannas round him. He allows all this, receives it all as seemly and due. The spirit of exultation and of triumph expands under the liberty and sanctions thus given. Swelling in numbers, freer and more animated in its expressions, the procession moves on till the ridge of the hill is gained, and the city begins to open to the view. The mighty multitude breaks out into acclamations of praise; those going before and those following after vie with one another, and fill the air with their hosannas--applying to Jesus, and this entry into Jerusalem, passages that all understood to relate to the Messiah. 'Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; hosanna in the highest; blessed be the King, and blessed be the kingdom of our father David; peace in heaven and glory in the highest.' Some Pharisees who are looking on and listening press through the crowd, and speaking to Jesus as one who must know and feel how misplaced and how perilous his public acceptance of such homage as this must be, would have him stop it. 'Master,' they say to him, 'rebuke thy disciples.' 'I tell you,' is his reply, 'that if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out.'
Down the sloping path the procession moves. A ledge of rock is reached, looking from which across the valley of the Kedron the whole city lies spread out before the Saviour's eye. The sight arrests him; the procession stops. All around is light and joy and triumph. But a dark shadow falls upon the Saviour's countenance. His eyes fill with tears. He beholds the city, and he weeps over it. Another Jerusalem than the one sitting there at ease, clothed in holiday attire, busied with its Passover preparations, is before his eye--a Jerusalem beset, beleaguered, crouching in fear and terror, doomed to a terrible destruction. How little power has the present over the mind and heart of Jesus! What cares he for this adulation of the multitude, this parade of praise? Even had it all been genuine, all the outburst of an intelligent faith, an enthusiastic attachment to him in his true character and office, it had not checked the current of thought and feeling within the Saviour's heart. But he knows how hollow it all is, how soon it will all die away. He thinks of the future; but of what future? Why was it not the future of the next few days? Why did scenes that were then before him not call up that future? There before him lay the garden of Gethsemane; there, across the valley, outside the city walls, the hill of Calvary; there, in the midst of the lofty buildings that crowned the heights of Zion and Moriah, rose the dwelling of the high priest and the palace of Herod; and he who is now looking upon these places knows well that before another Sabbath dawns he will be lying in agony in that garden, that beneath these roofs he will be jeered at and spit upon, and mock emblems of royalty forced upon him--the sentence of condemnation ratified by the fiendish cries of the city multitude: 'Away with him! crucify, crucify him!' and that there, upon the hill of Calvary, he will have to die the death of the cross. It had been no disparagement to the humanity of Jesus had the sights then before his eyes brought up before his thoughts the sufferings and the death with which so soon they were to be associated. But there is a higher reach of self-forgetfulness here than that of deadness or indifference to the acclamations of the surrounding multitudes. Jesus puts aside the prospect of his own endurances, though so near and so dark. He looks over and beyond them. Without naming the city, yet, by some glance of the eye or motion of the hand making clear the reference of his words as he stands weeping, he exclaims, 'If thou hadst know, even thou, thou upon whom for so many ages so much of the divine goodness has been lavished, whose gates the Lord has loved more than all the dwellings of Jacob, within whose
Page 497holy temple for so many generations the smoking altar and the bleeding sacrifice without, and the gleaming light of the Shekinah within, have spoken of a God there waiting to be gracious--it thou, even thou with all thy crowded sins upon thee, thy stoning of the prophets and casting forth of those that were sent to thee--if thou at least, at last, in this day, when, all his other messengers rejected, the Father has sent forth his own Son to thee, saying, Surely they will reverence my Son--if thou in thy day hadst known the things belonging to thy peace spoken so often, so earnestly by him.'
'If thou hast but known.' The sentence is cut short. For a moment the bright vision rises of all that Jerusalem might have been had she but known the time of her visitation. Had she but owned and welcomed her Messiah when he came, then might she have sat as queen among all the cities of the earth. And he whom she honored would have honored her so as to cast all her former glory into the shade. Then, without her hands being steeped in the wickedness of the deed, or any hands of wickedness being employed to do it, some fit altar might have been found or reared, and in sight, not of mocking enemies, but adoring friends, might the great sacrifice have been offered up; and from Jerusalem, as from the center of the great Christian commonwealth, might the tidings of the completed redemption have gone forth, and unto her all the glory and the honor of the nations might have been brought. All this, and more, might have been in the bright vision which for a moment rises before the Saviour's eye. But quickly the vision disappears; gives place to one, alas! how different. 'But now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days will come that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee; and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another, because thou knewest not the time of thy visitation.'
The pause, the tears, the lament over the doomed city, must have produced a deep impression on those around. How little could they understand the meaning of what Christ said, or the source of the emotion he displayed. One thing was clearly shown: the absence of all anticipation on the part of Jesus of any present individual success and triumph. There was much in the manner of his reception, in the plaudits with which he was hailed, in the popular enthusiasm that had found for itself such a vent, to have impelled a mere political adventurer to take advantage of the occasion, and put himself at the head of a great national movement. How easy had it been for Jesus, had he gone in with the false ideas and expectations of the
Page 498thousands then congregated in and about Jerusalem, to have got himself recognized as their leader, and to have created a commotion which there were no means at hand to allay! His thoughts are far otherwise occupied. A sublime compassion fills his spirit, draws forth his tears, and prompts those pathetic lamentations.
skipped over one paragraph
Upon the triumphal procession into the city, especially upon the tears which Jesus shed and the lamentation that he poured over Jerusalem, let us offer one or two remarks.
Page 499; skipped over two paragraphs
How impressively too are we here taught that the day of grace, the opportunity of return to and reconciliation with God, has its fixed limits, narrower often than the day of life. Apparently Jerusalem's day of grace extended for years beyond the time when he uttered the words of doom, and let fall the tears of sympathy. Miracles were wrought in her streets, exhortations and remonstrances addressed to her children; but to that all-seeing eye before which the secret things of God's spiritual kingdom lie open, the things belonging to her peace were from that time hid from her eyes. The door was shut, the doom was sealed. A like event happened of old to Esau when he sold his birthright. That was the point of doom in his career, and having passed it he found no place for repentance, for changing the divine purpose regarding him, though he sought it carefully tears. A like event happened to ancient Israel on her exodus from Egypt. The time of trial was to whether an entrance should be ministered into the land of promise closed at her first approach to the borders of Palestine; closed when the Lord sware in his wrath that she should not enter into that rest. A like event may happen in the moral and spiritual history of any man. God's Spirit will not always strive with ours. The time may come when the awful words will pass from the lips of the righteous Judge, "Ephraim is joined to his idols, let him alone;"--and Providence will let the man alone; and the word of God will let man alone; and the Spirit of all grace will let the man alone. It is not for us to affirm of any one, let his character and conduct be what they may, that he has reached or passed the mysterious point beyond which that comes true. It is not for any one to pass such sentence upon himself. But let all of us stand upon our guard, and reflect that if for months or years we have been growing older, deader, more indifferent to spiritual things, to the unseen and eternal realities; if conscience has been gradually losing her hold and weakening in her power; if we can listen now unmoved to what once would have impressed and affected us; if we court and dally with temptations that once we would have shunned; if sins are lightly committed which once we would have shrunk from; by these and such like marks, it is apparent that our day of grace has been declining, the shadows of its evening have been lengthening out, and that if no change occur, if this course of things go on long, ere the sun of our natural existence go down, the sun of our spiritual day may have set, never to rise again.
"Thy King Cometh"
[This chapter is based on Matt. 21:1-11; Mark 11:1-10;
the first day of the week, page 569
two of his disciples, page 569
their garments on, page 570
Messiah, their King., page 570
that the hour, page 570
their outer garments, page 570
as a carpet, page 570
the triumphal procession, page 570
emblem of victory, page 570
His eyes fill with tears, page 575
the doomed city,, page 576
might have been, page 577
Jerusalem's day of grace, page 578
This chapter has 3,615 words. Of this 46 are found to be exact or similar with that found in William Hanna, this amounts to 1.2725% of the total found in this chapter of Desire of Ages.