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Universitv of Cbicago 




Presented to 


by Pupils, Colleagues 

and Friends 










i^,, e, 





In the hope that this volume might be ready by the date set, 
April 7th, 1937, we initiated the work early in 1936. We were, 
however, over-optimistic and it is now clear that it will be six 
months late, and that only the ready cooperation of our collabora- 
tors has made even this date possible. 

It remains for us to thank them for their patience in all the diffi- 
culties due to the time element, and to explain that any errors are 
doubtless ours and not theirs, since they were obliged to waive more 
than a single proof. 

Moreover, we are most grateful to another group of friends, 
those who, by their contributions toward the expense of printing 
this volume, enabled us to undertake its preparation. 

Finally our thanks are due to the Meriden Gravure Com- 
pany and to the Waverly Press in Baltimore, not only for their 
work but for their cooperation in making the publication financially 


Cambridge, Massachusetts 

May 3, 1937 



Biographical Note. GERARD KIRBOPP LAKE vii 

The Sibyl and Bottle Imps. CAMPBELL BONNER, University of Michigan 1 

A Political Treatise of the Early French Renaissance. JOHN MILTON POTTER, 

Harvard University 9 

The Tertia Philosophia of Guittaume de Conches and the Authorship of the 

Moralium Dogma Philosophorum. THEODORE SILVERSTEIN, Harvard 

University 23 

Reflections on a Synagogue Inscription (Isaiah 66). B. D. ERDMANS, Univer- 
sity of Leiden 35 

Dionys var Alexandrien und die Libyer. HANS-GEORO OPITZ, Universitat 

Berlin 41 

Aux origines de Varchilecture Chretienne. L. HUGUES VINCENT, O.P., Ecok 

Bibligue 55 

The Early Muslim Sects. WILLIAM THOMSON, Harvard University 71 

Der Begriff des Klassischen in der Religionswissenschaft. JOACHIM WACH, 

Brown University 87 

Rebuttal, a Submerged Motive in the Gospels. HENRY J. CADBURY, Harvard 

University 99 

Some Remarks on Formgeschichtliche Methode. ROBERT P. CASEY, Brown 

University 109 

The Date of Peter's Confession. MORTON S. ENSLIN, Crozer Theological 

Seminary 117 

The Sources of Mark. NORMAN HUFFMAN 123 

Three Notes on Saint Paul's Journeys in Asia Minor. T. R. S. BHOUGHTON, 

Bryn Mawr College 131 

Paul in the Agora. SUZANNE HALSTEAD, Radcliffe College 139 

Some Notes on the Chester Beatty Gospels and Acts. FREDERIC G. KENYON. 145 
Codices 157, 1071, and the Caesarean Text. B. H. STREETER, Queen's College, 

Oxford 149 

A Third Century Papyrus of Matthew and Acts. HENRY A. SANDERS, Uni- 
versity of Michigan 151 

P 50. Two Selections from Acts. CARL H. KRAELING, Yak University 163 

Que Vaut Notre Texte des Evangilesf HUBERT PERNOT, Sorbonne 173 

A Misdated New Testament Manuscript: Athos, Laura B. 86 (146). ERNEST 

CADMAN COLWELL, The University of Chicago 183 

Remarks on the Prophetologion. CARSTEN HOEG AND GUNTHER ZUNTZ, 

University of Copenhagen 189 

Literal Mystery in Hellenistic Judaism. ERWIN R. GOODENOUGH, Yale 

University. .. 227 

The Supplicatio and Graecus Ritus. AGNES K. LAKE, Bryn Mawr College 243 


A Settisternium on the Parthenon Frieze? LILY Ross TAYLOR, Bryn Motor 

College 253 

Crisis in Ezekiel Research. GEORGE DAHL, Yale University 265 

The Edessene Origin of the Odes of Solomon. J. DB ZWAAN, University of 

Leiden 285 

Midrash in the Books of Samuel. ROBERT H. PFEIFFEK, Harvard University 303 

Xpurr&s. CHARLES C. TORREY, Yak University 317 

The Codex Cavensis. E. A. LOWE, Oxford and Princeton 325 

A Redating of Two Important Uncial Manuscripts of the Gospels Codex Zacyn- 

thius and Codex Cyprius. WILLIAM H. P. HATCH, Episcopal Theological 

School 333 

Ein Blatt aus einer antiken Weltchronik. HANS LIETZMANN, Universit&t 

Berlin 339 

Portions of an Old-Latin Text of Saint Matthew's Gospel. A. SOUTER, University 

of Aberdeen 349 

Notes on the Text of the Georgian and Armenian Gospels. ROBERT P. BLAKE, 

Harvard University 355 

A Note on Greek Ciphers. SILVA LAKE, Brown University 365 


My father's first interest in life was sociological. His first book, 
unfortunately never published, was a history of the London Dock 
Strike. He had intended to read law and to head for a political 
career. An overdose of exercise, too soon after influenza, affected 
his heart and the doctors told him that law and politics were out of 
the question. He was delicate and the church seemed to give the 
opportunity for a living and for some influence over the society 
that interested him. He went to Lumley in Durham and for a year 
preached to the pitmen and miners in that North Country mining 
district. I do not believe that theology entered very much into 
his sermons, but he did conduct The Mikado and he still tells the 
story of the brawny pitman who, having rescued him from the 
attack of a drunken navvy from a neighbouring village and listened 
to his comments on the situation, said "Mon, he's no much to look 
at, but has he no a bonny tongue?!" 

His heart failed him again and his health required the less rigorous 
climate of the South. He became a curate at St. Mary's hi Oxford 
and found himself once more, not entirely by choice, in an essen- 
tially academic atmosphere. Curates are not too heavily endowed 
and his marriage meant a growing need for money. Cataloguing 
Greek manuscripts hi the Bodlean Library brought in a valued 2/6 
an hour and aroused an interest in the Synoptic problem. He wrote 
a simple outline of Textual Criticism and sold it with the under- 
standing that from tune to time he would bring it up to date. It is 
a remarkable indication, not only of the value of the manual but of 
the foresight of the publisher that it was re-edited in 1928 for the 
eighteenth time. 

It was, I believe at this point that my father began to doubt the 
teachings of the church and to think in terms of history and exegesis 
rather than theology and parish difficulties. He has often said that 
the turning point in his belief in the church came when his Vicar sug- 
gested that prayers be said at Vespers for a Mr. Brown, since the 
doctor had just announced that there was no hope for him. The 
story may be apocryphal but I think it is indicative of his point of 

In 1903 he was offered the chair of New Testament Exegesis at 
Leiden and willingly accepted. For ten years he taught there, 



happy in the intellectual freedom of the University, happy in his 
friends in The Hague, where he frequently preached in the English 
Church, and happy in the society of his colleagues. I think I am 
right in saying that of the several academic honours he has received 
during his career, few have given him as much pleasure as the 
degree bestowed on him by the University of Leiden a few years ago. 

In 1913 he was asked to give the Lowell Lectures hi Boston and 
to teach for a year at the Episcopal Theological School in Cam- 
bridge, Mass. Much as I think he enjoyed himself that year, it 
could hardly have occurred to him that his trip to the United States 
was to lead to a permanent emigration. A few weeks before the 
time had come to return to Europe, he was offered a professorship 
at Harvard. The opportunities for his work hi this country were 
too tempting to refuse. Technically, there was no chair vacant, 
but the money was found for his salary and in a few years he suc- 
ceeded to the Winn Professorship of Ecclesiastical History, a chair 
which he held until circumstances forced him to resign it and join 
the Department of History in the College in 1932. 

It would be an impertinence on my part to discuss my father's 
scholarship. The publication of these articles in this form are 
sufficient in themselves. His academic work and books are already 
known to the reader of this introduction. It is not impertinent 
however, for me to speak of him as a teacher and a friend. His 
work at Harvard has, broadly speaking, fallen into three classes. 
The first includes his seminars with those few advanced students 
interested in the New Testament and in early texts. The second, 
his courses in Church History, largely given for some few students 
of history and those members of the Divinity School who intend 
to teach or to go into the church. The third, and in many ways the 
most important, is his course on the Bible as literature, given to a 
large group of undergraduates. In these lectures he presents his own 
philosophy of life, his conceptions of reality and his knowledge of 
the world as he has seen it in three different countries, illumined by 
his great sympathy and understanding of youth. To the minds of 
many alumni of Harvard College, these lectures go to make up this 
much of his life's work. His historical research may influence 
scholars in years to come, but his influence on hundreds of young 
men must live, and it is hi this that those of us who are not scholars 
can join in tribute with those who are. 


New York, 

April, 1937. 


University of Michigan 

It is a commonplace in the history of popular literature that 
august personages of ancient legend may degenerate in folktales to 
paltry and pitiable figures. That this was the case even with the 
Sibyl, the inspired prophetess of Apollo, appears from a passage hi 
Petronius (Sat. 48), where Trimalchio says: 

Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla 
pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent: SljSuXXa, rl 0&e- respondebat 
ilia: airodavelit 0<!Aa>. 

According to a story related by Ovid the Sibyl had asked of 
Apollo the gift of as many years of life as there were grains in a 
handful of sand, but had forgotten to ask for the gift of continued 
youth; hence she says: 

tempus erit cum de tanto me corpore parvam 
longa dies faciet, consumptaque membra senecta 
ad minimum redigentur onus. 1 

To be confined hi an ampulla, the body of the Sibyl was evidently 
supposed to have shrunk away to almost nothing; and so, exhausted 
with age, she craved release by death. Dr. Montague Rhodes 
James observed many years ago (Class. Rev. VI, 74) that the story 
is parallel to that of Tithonus; and he drew attention to a group of 
German folk-tales hi which a woman who wishes to live forever has 
her wish granted, and hi her shrunken decrepitude lives motionless 
hi a hollow of a pillar hi the church, or in a basket or a bottle hung 
hi the church. There she lies torpid, rousing herself once a year 
to eat a little bread or, according to one story, to cry "For ever! 
for ever! for ever!" and then relapse into coma. 2 

1 See Ovid, Met. 14, 129-153, and Serv. on Aen. 6, 321. 

2 These stories are found in Kuhn und Schwartz, Norddeutsche Sagen, M&rchen, 
und Gebr&uche, pp. 70-71: Mullenhoff, Sagen, M&rchen, und Lieder der Herzog- 
thiimer Schleswig Holstein und Lauenburg, no. 217, pp. 158-159. They are con- 
veniently condensed in Frazer's note on Pausanias x. 12, 8. There is little doubt 
that the German tales represent a mediaeval vulgarization of the classical stories. 



These stories and the myth of Tithonus all belong to the type 
or formula of "The Short-sighted Wish;" 8 it is irrelevant whether 
the fatal wish is made by the person who suffers from its conse- 
quences, or by another, as when Eos desires immortality for Titho- 
nus but forgets to ask for eternal youth for him (Horn. Hymn V, 
to Aphrodite, 220-224). The purpose of this paper is to suggest 
that another folklore theme may play a part hi the popular legend 
of the Sibyl. But before entering upon that question it is advisable 
to examine some other passages that deal with her final resting- 

Paus. X. 12, 8: xPWI*bv & ol Kv/iaiot TJ/S yvvaiKos rafrrqs oiiUva. 
iTrifalt-affdai, \lOov Sk iiSplav Iv 'Air^XXcwos tep< Stinvtoovviv ol 
TTJS Si/36XXi;s ivraWo. Ktiadat. 4>&pcvot rd. 6trro. Here v8pla is a cinerary 
urn, as hi Plut. Philop. 21, Lucian Dem. Enc. 29. 

Pseudo-Justin, Cohort, ad Graecos37 (p. 35 E), speaking of Cumae 
and the Sibyl: airroi ybp kv rfj 7r6Xet ywhuwoi irapd, r&v TrepiijyriT&v 
T&V Kal roiis T6irovs fifuv kv ols ixPWt^fa faroSetZ&vrwv nal 
two. in xaX/coD KareffKevaff^vov, Iv $ rd \el^ava avrijs <T&eaQai 
frcyov. Here the vessel shown is said to contain the remains of 
the Sibyl; but it is not a hydria, but a </cwc6s, a name which, properly 
applied to a lentil, clearly indicates a flattened flask, comparable 
to Petronius' ampulla. The word is used of an oil-flask in 1 Kings 
(Samuel) x. 1. The definition coffin in the eighth edition of Lid- 
dell and Scott, referring to Justin, but citing no particular passage, 
is probably a bad guess about the text just cited, prompted by the 
mention of the Sibyl's remains. 

Lucius Ampelius, Liber Memorialis, viii. 16 (ed. Assmann): 

Bargylo est fanum Veneris super mare Sed et Herculis aedes 

antiqua; ibi <e> columpna pendet cavea ferrea rotunda in qua 
conclusa Sibylla dicitur. Bargylo (Bargylos, a town in Caria) is 
Roth's emendation of Argiro, the reading of the sole manuscript, 
Salmasius' copy of the lost codex of Dijon. From this passage it 
would appear that the Sibyl had been confined, while still living, 
hi a cage; for cavea could not mean a funerary urn or a casket. 

It is natural to think that the narratives that represent the 
Sibyl as confined, while still alive, in a bottle or a cage are merely 
the product of a wonder-loving imagination working upon a more 

8 See Stith Thompson, Motif-Index of Folk-Literature, Vol. 4, No. J 2072 (Folk- 
lore Fellows Communications, No. 109, 1934). 


sober story, to the effect that the relics of the venerable prophetess 
were deposited in a small urn crfuKpA. \etyav' & Ppaxc? refaei. It 
would be no great stretch of pious fancy to suggest that the voice 
of the seeress still spoke from her ashes, and the next step, that she 
was still living, a tiny atomy, in an urn or a bottle, might follow 
readily enough. But on the face of the actual testimony there is 
little reason to assign a greater age to the more rational story. Pet- 
ronius lived hi the reign of Nero, Pausanias in the second century, 
though his source, Hyperochus, is thought to belong to the first 
century B. C. The other sources are later; the author of the Co- 
hortaiio is hardly to be placed before 250, and Ampelius, who has 
been dated all the way from Trajan to Diocletian, may perhaps 
be assigned to the third century. But Ampelius' eighth chapter, 
with its collection of wonders, may have been drawn from an 
earlier source, perhaps Alexandrian, of the second century before 
Christ. 4 

It is somewhat easier to understand the story of the Sibyl in the 
bottle with the help of a conjecture which I put forward with proper 
caution, namely, that here another folklore motif is involved the 
theme of The Captive Demon, or the Bottle Imp, as one may say, 
remembering R. L. Stevenson's story of that name. The idea that 
a powerful spirit, a devil or a jinni, may be confined hi a small 
vessel such as a bottle, or in a sack, appears in various popular 
tales, 6 and is most familiar to us in the tale of the Fisherman and 
the Jinni hi The Thousand and One Nights (Night 3). 

For the purpose in hand we may disregard the incidents of these 
stories such as the demon rewarding or threatening his liberator, 
the demon tricked into re-entering his prison, suffering a hammering 
or beating while shut up in a sack, and so on. The only point of 
importance is the popular and rather widespread belief that un- 
canny powers can be imprisoned and kept indefinitely in a small 
space. If this belief was current in the ancient world, there is 

4 Schanz, Romische Litteraturgeschichte, Teil 3, p. 78, discusses the date of 
Ampelius, and refers, for the source of the wonder stories, to H. von Rohden, 
De mundi miracuUs (p. 28), a work not accessible to me. For the date of the 
Cohortatio, see Schmid-Stahlin, Griechiscke Litteraturgeschichte, II, 2, p. 1285, n. 8. 

6 A. Aarne, The Types of the Folk-Tale (tr. by Stith Thompson, No. 330B, 331). 
Kaarle Krohn's study Der gefangene Unhold (Finnisch-Ugrische Forschungen VII, 
129) deals with stories that differ too widely in detail from the "bottle demon" 
type to be useful for comparison. 


nothing strange in the upgrowth of a story, localized now here, now 
there, that in her old age the Sibyl, a mighty spirit of divination, 
was kept in a small receptacle housed in some much frequented 
shrine. The existence of such a folk-story would account for the 
strange description in Pseudo-Justin of the Sibyl's last resting-place 
as a bronze flask. There seems to be no reason why popular rumor 
should change an ordinary funerary urn into a bottle, except as a 
result of the interplay of a story that somebody had shut the Sibyl 
up in a bottle while still living, perhaps to control and exploit her 
soothsaying for his own purposes. The round iron cage of Am- 
pelius' narrative can have nothing to do with burial, and the words 
in qua conclusa Sibylla didtur are more naturally used of imprison- 
ment than interment. 

Because of our familiarity with the tale of the Fisherman and the 
Jinni we are likely to think of the motif of the demon hi the bottle 
as oriental rather than classical; but there are similar notions to 
be found in Greek myths. The confinement of the winds in a sack 
(Od. x. 19 ff.) is a related idea, and so is that of Pandora's pithos 
(Hes. Op. 90-95) in which Zeus had shut up plagues (xaxA) and 
diseases. 6 There is also the famous Jena lekythos with its repre- 
sentation of Hermes evoking winged souls or nrjpcs from a pithos 
sunk hi the earth. 7 

There are some other texts belonging to a late period, but earlier 
than the formation of the Thousand and One Nights, which illus- 
trate the beliefs about bottle demons. One of these is found hi the 
Testament of Solomon, which is placed by its most recent editor, 
C. C. McCown, in the third century. 8 The passages in question 
appear to belong to the older strata of the work. In chapter 16, 7, 
Solomon shuts the sea demon Kynopegos (?) up in a phiaU which 
he closes and seals with the seal given him by God, and then has 
the vessel placed in the temple. Another story (chapter 22-23) 

9 The demonic character of plagues and diseases in early literature is clear 
enough whether we identify them with xi/pes or not, as did Proclus (on Hes. 
Op. 102), and as Miss Harrison interpreted them (Prolegomena, p. 169 f.). 

7 The lekythos was first published by P. Schadow, Sine attische Grablekythos 
(Jena diss. 1897); a better illustration in Furtwangler-Reichhold, Griech. Vasen- 
malerei, Text III, 29, Abb. 12. There is a cut (fig. 7) hi Harrison, Prolegomena, 
p. 43. 

8 The Testament of Solomon, edited by C. C. McCown, Leipzig, 1922. Uni- 
versity of Chicago Dissertation. 


is of interest as a development of the old idea of the captive wind. 
The king of Arabia implores the aid of Solomon against a demon 
in the form of a blasting wind, blowing from dawn to the third 
hour, and destroying man and beast. Solomon sends his servant 
to Arabia, directing him to take with him the seal ring and a wine- 
skin, and to hold out the sack, with the ring before its mouth, and 
catch the demon in it. The messenger carries out his orders, 
catches the demon in the sack, ties it fast and takes it back to his 
master. On the next day, when Solomon goes out to inspect the 
work upon his temple, the demon hi the sack stands up and does 
obeisance to the king. When questioned the demon tells his name, 
Ephippas, and at Solomon's command lifts and sets hi its place the 
mighty corner-stone, which the builders could not move. 

Along with the Testament proper McCown publishes for the first 
time, from a manuscript of the Greek monastery in Jerusalem, a 
work called At^jjo-ts ircpl TOV Trpo^rot/ K<d iro^wrAroy rov /3a<rtX&>s SoXo- 
H&VTOS. Part of the manuscript was written in 1719; the part con- 
taining the Narrative may be somewhat older. It is hi modern 
Greek. The story is based upon the nucleus of the Testament 
narrative, that is to say, Solomon's dealing with the demons, but 
without the details which give the Testament its name, and without 
the magical and demonological minutiae which form a substantial 
part of the Testament. Besides giving the incident about the cap- 
ture of Ephippas with unimportant differences from the Testament, 
it introduces a story that is not found in the Testament at all. I 
translate the pertinent paragraphs of it. 

X. 2. "After the completion of the temple of God, King Solomon 
gathered together all the demons and unclean spirits, and caused 
to stand before him an innumerable multitude of demons; and he 
gave command that skilled artificers who worked in copper should 
come, and he ordered them to make copper vessels. And then he 
took and made large casks like jars and the King commanded all 
the demons in the name of God, and they entered into those vessels 
of copper. And then the King himself took and shut them up, 
and sealed the vessels with the seal of God. And the seals were of 
silver and the demons were within; and they dared no more go 

XI. 3-4. "Then also came King Nabuchodonosor from Babylon, 
and he took Jerusalem and sacked it; and then he burned the roof 
of the temple built by Solomon, who had roofed it over entirely 


with pure gold; and as it burned the gold ran like a great river. . . . 
And the Chaldeans, who plundered Jerusalem, in their plundering 
found those copper vessels hi which King Solomon had shut up the 
demons and sealed them with the seal that God sent him from 
heaven by the archangel Michael. And when the Chaldeans saw 
the golden seals 9 and those copper vessels, which were buried hi the 
earth, and looked like wells sealed up, the Chaldeans believed that 
they were a hidden treasure, and they went and unsealed the 
golden seals from them; and the demons fled from there and went 
again to then- former accursed dwellings and plagued men again." 

Since this story is written in modern Greek and appears only hi a 
late manuscript, one might be disposed to date it in the later Middle 
Ages. But there is satisfactory evidence that it is much older. 
A Disputatio cum Herbano Judaeo, which Krumbacher assigns to 
the tune of Justinian, 10 is attributed to Gregentius, Bishop of Taphar 
hi Himyaritic Arabia. When Herban asserts that Solomon con- 
trolled all demons, the Bishop replies: SoAo/iw? trairtlvuffe Sal/was; 
owe oI5as ri Siayopebeis. irpbs Kaipbv ^o^aXlffaro TOVTOVS Iv rots 
byyclois, nal ff<j>payl<ras Kar^xuffev. 11 The use Of the article with 
&yylois marks the detail as well known, and the sentence evidently 
summarizes the story told hi the modern Greek manuscript. 
Another summary of the same story is found in a life of Saint 
Philip, priest and exorcist of Agyrium (Agira, formerly San Filippo 
d'Argiro) hi Sicily, written by the monk Eusebius. This life is 
found in two twelfth-century manuscripts (Vat. 866, Bodl. Auct. 
5. 12) ; it does not mention the Saracen conquest of Sicily, and the 
writer, though he knew only the Greek rite, is loyal to the Pope of 
Rome. This would seem to point to some period not later than the 
eighth century and quite possibly earlier. Philip is said to have 
lived in the time of Arcadius. 12 

This Philip, a native of Thrace, goes to Rome, and the Pope, 

9 They were of silver in Chapter X. 

10 Gesch. der byzant. Litt.f p. 59. 

11 Migne, P. G. 86, 1, p. 644 A. A. Lukyn Williams, Adversus Jvdaeos (Cam- 
bridge, 1935) p. 142, dates the dialogue between A. D. 510 and 520. 

12 So far as I know, the life of Philip is printed only in Acta Sanctorum Maii. 
Ill, pp. l*-6* (at the end of the volume). The mistake about the Roman rite, 
which indicates that Eusebius knew only the Greek, is noted by Henschen, p. 27D 
of the volume (regular numbering). 


recognizing the holy calling of the youth, ordains him priest, gives 
him a sacred volume, and sends him to Agyrium hi Sicily, 

lv $ irvcvparuv dKaddprwp TOTTIM) juerd/fturis ytyovev, &ir6 ' 

ixna^wrlav TIJS 7r6Xeo)s, iiri<rc\96vTos TOV Vfaftovxo8ov6ff 
Kal Karappal-avTuv ras iriiKas TOV vaov, evpovav abrovs kv 

airoKtK\&,ffntvovs' viro\af}6i>Ts 8k fln xP^Mard elonv, fyoil-av 
avrovs, Kal irapavrlKa tt-t8pa<rav in r<av ^/ceure Kal KaroiKovviv kv <rrpo7Xeus 
(sic) verpuv. . . . 18 

Those who are versed hi Jewish folk-lore may be able to trace the 
story of Solomon's imprisoning demons hi jars still further. I have 
noted only a passage hi the Babylonian Talmud 14 where Solomon 
is said to have used demons for his building; nothing is said about 
then 1 confinement hi jars. 

The belief that evil spirits can be imprisoned by charms hi a 
small space is expressed in a magical practice which is interestingly 
described hi Professor J. A. Montgomery's Aramaic Incantation 
Texts from Nippur. 16 These texts, and many others of similar 
character hi other collections, were written on the inside of small 
earthenware bowls. The bowls from Nippur were actually found 
upside down, as if to confine something under them, and one of the 
texts (No. 4) begins: "Covers to hold hi sacred (accursed) angels 
and evil spirits." 16 The purpose was to protect from demonic 
affliction certain persons who are named hi the charms, and their 
houses and property. Even before the definite evidence furnished 
by the Nippur excavation, Professor H. Hyvernat had proposed 
such an interpretation. 17 The Nippur bowls are not later than 

18 Vita c. 8, p. 2* C. Although Du Cange recognizes ffrpoy\al - fissurae, the 
word is probably nothing but rptfryXij with a spurious <r derived, partly by dit- 
tography, partly by ambiguous pronunciation, from its frequent association with 
the article in such phrases as fe rds rpctyXas, kv rais Tp^Xow. rp&yX)/ is known 
hi Modern Greek, but not <TTpoy\rj. This comment applies also to the exorcism 
published by Dom A. Strittmatter hi Orientdlia Christiania XXVI, 2, p. 129, 
where demons are described as hidden kv rats crpoyXois rQv vcTpwv. 

14 Tractate Giftm, VII, 1, fol. 68a (Vol. VI, p. 413 in L. Goldschmidt's trans- 

16 University of Pennsylvania Museum, Publications of the Babylonian Section, 
Vol. Ill (Philadelphia, 1913). 

18 Montgomery, op. dt., pp. 41-42. 

17 Zeitschrift fur Keilschriftforschung II (1885), 113 ff., especially 137-8. 


We have now seen that stories of demons or evil spirits in jars, 
though particularly frequent hi Judaeo-Christian tradition, are not 
foreign to Greek thought, and may be traced back to Homer and 
Hesiod. There is no proof of the existence of a story that the Sibyl 
was "bottled" in the manner of Solomon's demons or jinns; but the 
hypothesis that such a story may once have been current seems at 
least to explain the ampulla of Petronius, the flask of Pseudo- 
Justin, and the cage in Ampelius. 



THE Regime d'un Prince OF BISHOP JEAN DE MABBE 1509 

Harvard University 

The institutio principis was one of the principal forms of political 
writing hi the Middle Ages. It was especially well developed in 
France. Successive generations of ecclesiastical moralists, from 
the days of Hincmar of Rheims and Smaragdus to those of Aquinas 
and Aegidius Romanus, turned their attention to the political and 
ethical education of the long, both for its own sake, that good 
doctrine might prevail in high places, and as a vehicle for the ex- 
pression of the highest ideal of public conduct. With the Hundred 
Years War, the institutio principis, like other lands of didactic 
political writing, progressively diminished in influence. Ideal con- 
siderations were overcast by the urgent practical necessities of 
the great conflict. After the victory of the Valois, however, as the 
pacification of France proceeded, men had again the will and the 
leisure to assess their political convictions, and to attempt, hi the 
sphere of political thought, a like reconstruction to that which 
Louis XI, the Beaujeu and Louis XII were achieving in the state's 
material constitution. The means to which they most frequently 
turned was the institutio principis. 1 

1 The content of such Carolingian treatises as Smaragdus' Wo regia, Hincmar's 
De regis persona, or the De Institutione regia of Jonas of Orleans is of course not 
comparable to that of the De regimine principum of Aquinas or Aegidius. Yet 
the persistence of the form, simply as a form, is worth noting. The internal 
change was only gradual. The fact that the form, sometimes in close imitation 
of medieval models, should have been widely used in the Renaissance, is also 
significant. How far the use of a form is an influence upon the spirit, one ob- 
viously cannot say. But the fact that one of the distinctive didactic vehicles 
of the entire Middle Ages should have served a number of incontestable Humanists, 
in the Renaissance, is apposite when we are told that the thinkers of that period, 
"e'blouis par les graces re'cemment ressuscite'es de 1'antiquite 1 ," altogether turned 
their backs upon the Middle Ages, and that "le christianisme a laisse" en eux 
quelques traces, mais si leg&res qu'elles ne semblent que des habitudes de geste 



Some few of the Institutions written in the Renaissance are 
familiar to scholars. One need, of course, not call attention to the 
Institutio principle christiani of Erasmus, published at Paris within 
a year of its first appearance, at Louvain, and of much influence in 
France. The contemporary work of the archbishop Claude Seyssel, 
La Grant' Monarchic de France, devotes three quarters of its space 
to the same subject. A little later appeared a third work which, 
although now rare, is not entirely unknown: the Institution du 
Prince of the celebrated humanist, Guillaume Bude". 2 But there 
are to be found treatises somewhat earlier than these, which, despite 
the literary superiority of Erasmus and Bude", are of an almost equal 
interest; cruder, less coherent, and lacking the stylistic polish of the 
humanists, but revealing better than they the state of political 
ideas at the dawn of the French Renaissance. 

It is quite possible that the resurrection of the Institution of the 
Prince was the work of no less a person than Louis XI. Shortly 
before that king's death, he either wrote, or caused to be written, 
a little treatise, Le Rosier des Guerres, intended for the instruction 
of his youthful hen- in the ways of wise government. 8 One is struck, 

et de langage." (Faguet, E. Seizi&me Sieck, p. vi.) The origin of the institutio 
was of course classical, but Erasmus, Bud and their contemporaries used the 
forms and not a few of the ideas of the Middle Ages, before the generation of 
Bud6's disciple, Louis LeRoy, added those of Isocrates. 

2 Erasmus' Institutio prindpis christiani first appeared hi 1516; Seyssel's Grant' 
Monarchic hi 1519. BudS's Institution, published hi 1547, seems to have been 
written at least a decade earlier. Cf. Geldner, F. Die Staatsauffassung und 
Fiirstenlehre des Erasmus von Rotterdam, Berlin 1930; Jacquet, A. "Le sentiment 
national au XVI* sidcle. Claude de Seyssel," Revue des questions historiques, 
1895; Delaruelle, L. Etude sur Vhumanisme fran$ais. Guillaume Bud6, Paris 
1907; Triwunatz, M. Guillaume Budes "De V Institution du Prince," Erlangen 1903. 

3 The Rosier des Guerres was printed, for the first time in full, from the manu- 
scripts of the Biblioth&que Nationale, by Maurice Diamant-Berger, Paris 1925. 
Of the five other editions, two (1521 and 1553) are known only by hearsay; two 
(1523 and 1528) are very corrupt; the best (ed. D'Espagnet, J., Paris 1616) is 
incomplete. While its modern editor attributes the Rosier to Louis XI, M. 
Pierre Champion is of the opinion that it was written by Louis' almoner, Pierre 
Choisnet, probably under the long's supervision. Cf. Diamant-Berger, "Un 
essai de rehabilitation: Nouvelles rScherches sur le Rosier des Guerres de 
Louis XI," Mercure de France, August 15, 1925; Champion, P. "Les trois Eages 
de 1'Homme," Melanges d'histoire du moyen age offerts a M. Ferdinand Lot, Paris 
1925, pp. Ill ff. These articles furnish bibliographical references to earlier 
critical writing on the subject, especially by Paulin Paris and Kaulek. 

Bibliotheque Nationale Ms. Fr. 1219. 


Some few of the Institutions written in the Renaissance are 
familiar to scholars. One need, of course, not call attention to the 
Institutio principis christiani of Erasmus, published at Paris within 
a year of its first appearance, at Louvain, and of much influence in 
France. The contemporary work of the archbishop Claude Seyssel, 
La Grant' Monarchic de France, devotes three quarters of its space 
to the same subject. A little later appeared a third work which, 
although now rare, is not entirely unknown: the Institution du 
Prince of the celebrated humanist, Guillaume Bude*. 2 But there 
are to be found treatises somewhat earlier than these, which, despite 
the literary superiority of Erasmus and Bude", are of an almost equal 
interest; cruder, less coherent, and lacking the stylistic polish of the 
humanists, but revealing better than they the state of political 
ideas at the dawn of the French Renaissance. 

It is quite possible that the resurrection of the Institution of the 
Prince was the work of no less a person than Louis XI. Shortly 
before that king's death, he either wrote, or caused to be written, 
a little treatise, Le Rosier des Guerres, intended for the instruction 
of his youthful heir in the ways of wise government. 3 One is struck, 

et de langage." (Faguet, E. Seizieme Stick, p. vi.) The origin of the institutio 
was of course classical, but Erasmus, Bud6 and their contemporaries used the 
forms and not a few of the ideas of the Middle Ages, before the generation of 
Bud6's disciple, Louis LeRoy, added those of Isocrates. 

2 Erasmus' Institutio principis christiani first appeared in 1516; Seyssel 's Grant' 
Monarchic in 1519. Bude^s Institution, published in 1547, seems to have been 
written at least a decade earlier. Cf. Geldner, F. Die Staatsauffassung und 
Furstenlehre des Erasmus von Rotterdam, Berlin 1930; Jacquet, A. "Le sentiment 
national au XVI s siecle. Claude de Seyssel," Revue des questions historiques, 
1895; Delaruelle, L. Etude sur Vhumanisme frangais. Guillaume Bude, Paris 
1907; Triwunatz, M. Guillaume Budes "De V Institution du Prince," Erlangen 1903. 

3 The Rosier des Guerres was printed, for the first time in full, from the manu- 
scripts of the Bibliotheque Nationale, by Maurice Diamant-Berger, Paris 1925. 
Of the five other editions, two (1521 and 1553) are known only by hearsay; two 
(1523 and 1528) are very corrupt; the best (ed. D'Espagnet, J., Paris 1616) is 
incomplete. While its modern editor attributes the Rosier to Louis XI, M. 
Pierre Champion is of the opinion that it was written by Louis' almoner, Pierre 
Choisnet, probably under the king's supervision. Cf. Diamant-Berger, "Un 
essai de rehabilitation: Nouvelles r6cherches sur le Rosier des Guerres de 
Louis XI," Mercure de France, August 15, 1925; Champion, P. "Les trois Eages 
de 1'Homme," Melanges d'histoire du moyen age offerts a M. Ferdinand Lot, Paris 
1925, pp. Ill ff. These articles furnish bibliographical references to earlier 
critical writing on the subject, especially by Paulin Paris and Kaulek. 

Bibliotheque Nationale Ms. Fr. 1219. 


Some few of the Institutions written in the Renaissance are 
familiar to scholars. One need, of course, not call attention to the 
Institutio principis christiani of Erasmus, published at Paris within 
a year of its first appearance, at Louvain, and of much influence in 
France. The contemporary work of the archbishop Claude Seyssel, 
La Grant' Monarchic de France, devotes three quarters of its space 
to the same subject. A little later appeared a third work which, 
although now rare, is not entirely unknown: the Institution du 
Prince of the celebrated humanist, Guillaume Bude 1 . 2 But there 
are to be found treatises somewhat earlier than these, which, despite 
the literary superiority of Erasmus and Bude", are of an almost equal 
interest; cruder, less coherent, and lacking the stylistic polish of the 
humanists, but revealing better than they the state of political 
ideas at the dawn of the French Renaissance. 

It is quite possible that the resurrection of the Institution of the 
Prince was the work of no less a person than Louis XI. Shortly 
before that king's death, he either wrote, or caused to be written, 
a little treatise, Le Rosier des Guerres, intended for the instruction 
of his youthful heir in the ways of wise government. 8 One is struck, 

et de langage." (Faguet, E. Seiyieme Stick, p. vi.) The origin of the institutio 
was of course classical, but Erasmus, Bud6 and their contemporaries used the 
forms and not a few of the ideas of the Middle Ages, before the generation of 
Bude*'s disciple, Louis LeRoy, added those of Isocrates. 

2 Erasmus' Institutio principis christiani first appeared in 1516; Seyssel's Grant' 
Monarchic in 1519. Bud6's Institution, published in 1547, seems to have been 
written at least a decade earlier. Cf. Geldner, F. Die Staatsauffassung und 
Furstenlehre des Erasmus von Rotterdam, Berlin 1930; Jacquet, A. "Le sentiment 
national au XVI* sifecle. Claude de Seyssel," Rente des questions historiques, 
1895; Delaruelle, L. Etude sur Vhumanisme frangais. Guillaume Bude, Paris 
1907; Triwunatz, M. Guittaume Budes "De I' Institution du Prince," Erlangen 1903. 

8 The Rosier des Guerres was printed, for the first time in full, from the manu- 
scripts of the Biblioth&que Nationale, by Maurice Diamant-Berger, Paris 1925. 
Of the five other editions, two (1521 and 1553) are known only by hearsay; two 
(1523 and 1528) are very corrupt; the best (ed. D'Espagnet, J., Paris 1616) is 
incomplete. While its modern editor attributes the Rosier to Louis XI, M. 
Pierre Champion is of the opinion that it was written by Louis' almoner, Pierre 
Choisnet, probably under the king's supervision. Cf. Diamant-Berger, "Un 
essai de rehabilitation: Nouvelles rScherches sur le Rosier des Guerres de 
Louis XI," Mercure de France, August 15, 1925; Champion, P. "Les trois Eages 
de 1'Homme," Melanges d'histoire du moyen Age offerts a M. Ferdinand Lot, Paris 
1925, pp. Ill ff. These articles furnish bibliographical references to earlier 
critical writing on the subject, especially by Paulin Paris and Kaulek. 

Bibliotheque Nationale Ms. Fr. 1219. 


Some few of the Institutions written in the Renaissance are 
familiar to scholars. One need, of course, not call attention to the 
Institutio principis christiani of Erasmus, published at Paris within 
a year of its first appearance, at Louvain, and of much influence in 
France. The contemporary work of the archbishop Claude Seyssel, 
La Grant' Monarchic de France, devotes three quarters of its space 
to the same subject. A little later appeared a third work which, 
although now rare, is not entirely unknown: the Institution du 
Prince of the celebrated humanist, Guillaume Bude 1 . 2 But there 
are to be found treatises somewhat earlier than these, which, despite 
the literary superiority of Erasmus and Bud6, are of an almost equal 
interest ; cruder, less coherent, and lacking the stylistic polish of the 
humanists, but revealing better than they the state of political 
ideas at the dawn of the French Renaissance. 

It is quite possible that the resurrection of the Institution of the 
Prince was the work of no less a person than Louis XI. Shortly 
before that king's death, he either wrote, or caused to be written, 
a little treatise, Le Rosier des Guerres, intended for the instruction 
of his youthful heir in the ways of wise government. 3 One is struck, 

et de langage." (Faguet, E. Seizieme Stick, p. vi.) The origin of the institutio 
was of course classical, but Erasmus, Bude" and their contemporaries used the 
forms and not a few of the ideas of the Middle Ages, before the generation of 
Bude"'s disciple, Louis LeRoy, added those of Isocrates. 

2 Erasmus' Institutio principis christiani first appeared in 1516; Seyssel's Grant' 
Monarchic in 1519. Bude"'s Institution, published in 1547, seems to have been 
written at least a decade earlier. Cf. Geldner, F. Die Staatsauffassung und 
Fiirstenlehre des Erasmus von Rotterdam, Berlin 1930; Jacquet, A. "Le sentiment 
national au XVI e siecle. Claude de Seyssel," Revue des questions historiques, 
1895; Delaruelle, L. Etude sur I'humanisme frangais. Guillaume Bude, Paris 
1907; Triwunatz, M. Guillaume Budes "De I' Institution du Prince," Erlangen 1903. 

3 The Rosier des Guerres was printed, for the first time in full, from the manu- 
scripts of the Bibliotheque Nationale, by Maurice Diamant-Berger, Paris 1925. 
Of the five other editions, two (1521 and 1553) are known only by hearsay; two 
(1523 and 1528) are very corrupt; the best (ed. D'Espagnet, J., Paris 1616) is 
incomplete. While its modern editor attributes the Rosier to Louis XI, M. 
Pierre Champion is of the opinion that it was written by Louis' almoner, Pierre 
Choisnet, probably under the king's supervision. Cf. Diamant-Berger, "Un 
essai de rehabilitation: Nouvelles r6cherches sur le Rosier des Guerres de 
Louis XI," Mercure de France, August 15, 1925; Champion, P. "Les trois Eages 
de 1'Homme," Melanges d'histoire du moyen age offerts a M. Ferdinand Lot, Paris 
1925, pp. Ill ff. These articles furnish bibliographical references to earlier 
critical writing on the subject, especially by Paulin Paris and Kaulek. 

:co cr prcfoir fidffftv Vic 

Bibliotheque Nationale Ms. Fr. 1219. 


in this work, by a divided purpose, to be found also in more than 
one of its successors. The author, whether Louis or his almoner, 
wrote, so to speak, with one eye upon heaven, but with the other, 
and both his hands, on the most mundane political reality. Writ- 
ten, not improbably, in emulation of the medieval archetype, the 
Rosier shows still the imprint of the ecclesiastical morality. But 
one is impressed far more with the directness with which it displays 
to the young prince the precepts of practical statecraft, outlining 
especially the best means for the control and employment of armed 
force. The Rosier des Guerres is indeed characteristic of its epoch, 
as of the long who inspired it. The medieval religious ideal had 
still some effective force, but it was overshadowed by the need to 
consolidate and explain a political system and a political morality 
quite different from that of Saint Louis and Saint Thomas. For 
some tune this duality of purpose hi fact continued to be the central 
quality of French political thought. Nowhere is it better illustrated 
than hi a Rtgime d'un Prince of the year 1509. 

The author, Jean de Marre, was not so famous as those whom 
we have just mentioned. Nor was he a humanist. Licentiate hi 
both laws, and a monk of the Benedictine abbey of Simorre, near 
Auch, he seems to have had a normal churchman's education. For 
a tune, he was vicar general for Aquitaine, charged with the reforma- 
tion of monasteries. He later served the great prince, Alain 
d'Albret, apparently as his confessor. In 1496 he was promoted 
Bishop of Condom. There, he was much occupied with the build- 
ing and repair of churches. His literary efforts, other than the 
Regime d'un Prince, appear to have been devoted to theology. 
Save for an obscure connection with Guillaume Brigonnet, there is 
no evidence hi the account of his life that Italian or humanist 
influences had much effect upon him. In 1509, he was already of 
advanced years. 4 A monk, a client of one of the last great particu- 
larist princes of the Midi, and himself a Gascon, one would not be 
surprised had Jean de Marre shown himself the protagonist at once 
of orthodox morality and of feudal provincialism. Licentiate hi 
both laws, he might well have been a conservative defender of 
custom and vested right. On the contrary, while no Macchiavelli, 
he was a royalist and a man unafraid of innovation. 

The Regime d'un Prince is divided into three parts, each quite 

4 Gallia Christiana, Vol. II, p. 532. 


different from the others: an introductory section, moralistic in 
character, in the course of which the writer has occasion to con- 
sider the nature of law, and the king's relationship to it; a discussion 
of wise policy, both internal and foreign, with special reference to 
the immediate situation of France; and an extended examination of 
the reasons for, the possibility of realizing, and the best means of 
organizing a crusade against the Turk. The treatise is addressed, 
and seems to have been presented to Louis XII. 6 

The first section opens conventionally enough, in the odor of 
sanctity. The prime necessity for all men, says the author, but 
especially for those who hold secular or ecclesiastical office, is that 
they be graced with perfect love and dilection. For we live by 
divine grace only, and our utmost hope is the attainment of celes- 
tial glory. But, to perfect himself, man must set his mind in order. 
When his reason compells him directly, and his will commands him 
to that which is just and good, and when his senses are prompt to 
obey reason and will, then can it be said that a man's thought is 
well ordered. 8 To further this process, De Marre appeals both to 
the "speculative understanding," whose aim is the knowledge of 
truth, and to "practical understanding," whose end is the achieve- 
ment of those virtuous works which should follow from such knowl- 
edge. For in them lies the way of goodness. Indeed, De Marre 
holds that goodness is far superior to mere intelligence, expressing 
himself almost in the words "Be good, dear child, and let who will 
be clever." 7 

6 Le Regime d'un Prince is to be found in a vellum manuscript in the Biblio- 
theque Nationale, ms. fr. 1219. The manuscript itself is a very beautiful one, 
and is illustrated with a frontispiece showing the bishop making a personal presenta- 
tion of his book to the king. The binding is old, very probably even of the six- 
teenth century, and is stamped with the royal arms. The text appears both in 
French and Latin. There is no substantial difference in meaning between the 
two. I have chosen to quote from the French text, which is somewhat fuller, and 
is also first in order in the manuscript. The manuscript is internally dated as of 
1509. On folio 34 verso the author speaks of the fall of Constantinople as "il y a 
cinquante et six ans." 

8 De Marre, J., Regime d'un prince, folios 4 ff. folio 8 verso. "Quant doncques 
la raison de Ihomme conseille directement et que la voulente commando a faire 
ce qui est juste et decent, et que la sensualite est prompte a obeir a raison et a 
voulente directe adoncques est dicte la pensee de Ihomme bien instituee. . . . 
Car la fin de speculacion est scavoir la verite et la fin de la practique est le bon 
euvre qui en ensuyt." 

7 Ibid, folio 9. "Car cest chose plus seure et plus salutaire de estre bon que de 
estre philosophe." 


At this point we come upon a revised concept. De Marre con- 
tinues to use the language of the Schoolmen, But he gives a new 
meaning to the older vocabulary. The king, he says, should in 
his quest of goodness, have great regard to the responsibilities of 
his office, and bear hi mind the solemn meaning of his coronation 
and his coronation oath. For he is the embodiment of law in his 
realm, and law is indeed naught else but reasonable ordonnance for 
the conservation of the public good, ordained and established by 
him who has the charge and authority of the whole community. 
For this reason, the king is, or should be, the father of his country, 
and should love those over whom he has dominion, and should 
defend and protect them to the fullest of his power. For he is like 
the head of the natural body, which gives force and direction to the 
limbs. 8 The formula princeps est animata lex was an old one. 
When Aegidius Romanus vised it, at the end of the thirteenth 
century, his meaning was that the king is bound by law, a law which 
he himself does not establish. His was, hi effect, an assertion of 
the sovereignty of law, and of the king's responsibility to it. 9 In 
the mid-fifteenth century the phrase appeared again in a dialogue 
by Alain Chartier. Here its meaning had altered. Chartier ex- 
plained that the long may be called animated law because only in 
the hands of an equitable ruler has the law any force; an evil king 
destroys it. 10 To Chartier this is merely a statement of fact. He 

8 Ibid, folio 10 verso and 11. "En oultre il doibt estre memoratif et recordz 
des parolles qui luy sent dittes et dirigez quant 11 est oing de la saincte huyle a 
reins. Car il est la loy ayant ame au royaulme. . . . Et nest loy aultre chose si non 
ordonnance raysonnable pour la conservation du bien commun ofdonnee et es- 
tablie de par celuy qui a la charge et auctorite de toute la communite. Et pour 
ce est le roy ou doibt estre pere de son pays, et doibt aymer ceulx dont il a le 
regime et le gouvernement et les doibt deffendre et garder de tout son povoir. 
car il est comme le chief du corps naturel qui influe et donne vertu et vigeur aux 

9 Aegidius Romanus, De regimine principum, Rome 1482, lib. I, pt. 2, chapter 12. 
"Rex, quius est leges ferre, debet esse quaedam regula in agendis . . . princeps 
vero est quaedam animata lex." Aegidius' meaning is to be understood in the 
light of such statements as "Jura regni debet maxime custodire et observare," 
(lib. Ill, pt. 2, ch. 9) and "Imo magnam efficaciam habent ex diurnitate et assue- 
factione leges. Decet ergo reges et principes observare bonas constitutiones 
principatus et regni et non innovare leges ..." (lib. Ill, pt. 2, ch. 31). 

10 Chartier, Alain, Dialogus familiaris Amid et Sodalis, in Oeuvres, (ed. Du- 
Chesne, A.) Paris 1617, p. 464. "Princeps ipse animata lex est, cujus aequitas 


regretted that the medieval ideal of a self-sustaining and righteous 
law is not a practical reality, but he was forced by the lawlessness 
of his own tunes to conclude that law has of itself small vitality. 

From De Marre's use of the term, both Aegidius' sense of legal 
restriction upon the king, and Chartier's disillusioned pessimism 
have dropped away. The bishop does not, hi truth, say "the will 
of the king is law," but his position is perilously near absolutism. 
The king is of course bound to exercise his power in accordance with 
the best interests of the governed, but he is bound by nothing 
external to himself. His conscience, the nature of his office, and 
his regard for those he rules, are the sole restrictions upon him. 
The alteration, through two centuries, of the connotation of one 
set of words is a small thing, and to insist upon it is perhaps over- 
academic. Yet, could there be better illustration of the manner 
hi which the theoretical precepts of the Schoolmen, with little ap- 
parent change of phrase, came gradually to provide a sound philo- 
sophic basis for the exaltation of the royal will? The process was 
not completed until a generation after De Marre's death. He 
himself never explicitly asserted the king's power to be absolute. 
He undoubtedly believed that, in insisting upon the excellent 
purposes which the king should always pursue, he had provided 
an adequate guarantee against the tyrannous abuse of power. With 
St. Isidore of Seville, he held that justice is rectitudo voluntatis, "une 
voulente" justement et directement ordonnee." 11 But the will is 
the will of the king. 

Jean de Marre might, from what we have so far seen of his 
thought, appear an abstract idealogue. In the second part of his 
treatise, however, he shows himself not without a certain realistic 
hardness which considerably qualifies the effect of his earlier re- 
marks. Rather abruptly he turns from the speculative under- 
standing to the practical. Mindful of the ills of the preceding 
century, De Marre holds it to be axiomatic that the great essential 
in any community is good public order. Such order cannot be 
maintained if the king be not assured of the prompt obedience of 

leges vivificat, ac eadem mortificat regentis iniquitas. Salubre populis iustae lege 
est subesse; sed salubrius bono rege regni." The same idea appears in his Con- 
solation des trois vertus; Oeuvres, p. 318. "Car la loy escripte est de soy morte 
& sans vigour. Mais le prince est la loy vive, Tame & 1'esperit des loix, qui leur 
donne povoir & vertu, & par son sens & addressement les vivifie." 
11 De Marre, op. cit., fol. 12 verso. 


his servants. 12 Once this is assured, he can consider other prob- 
lems of policy. Yet both hi his treatment of conquered territories, 
and hi domestic affairs, the king should constantly bear hi mind 
the preservation of order. 

In discussing the former problem, De Marre pays particular 
attention to the duchy of Milan. Lombardy clearly belongs by 
right to Louis XII; and its conquest is altogether justifiable. In 
governing it, however, the king should remember that, because 
their habits and way of life differ from those of the French, it 
would be difficult, if not impossible, to maintain a permanent peace 
between the Milanese and then* conquerors. 18 To prevent rebellion, 
the French must obviously pay first attention to their military dis- 
positions. But the maintenance of a large armed force throughout 
the duchy would be impossibly expensive, an expense to which 
the revenues of Milan itself would clearly not be sufficient. It 
would therefore appear prudent for the king to maintain only a 
small garrison of highly trained soldiers in the citadel of Milan, and 
to attempt by other means to make the Lombards amenable to his 
rule. Above all, he should avoid giving offense to the inhabitants 
of the duchy. For this reason then- local rights and liberties 
should be preserved to them, and they might well be allowed to 
elect a procurator to represent them before their rulers. They 
should also be permitted some advantage from then* own income. 
De Marre understands that the annual revenues of the duchy 
amount to some eight hundred thousand ducats. He feels that 
the Milanese might be kept content if they were permitted the 
enjoyment of one himdred fifty thousand, the remaining six hundred 

12 Ibid, folio 18 verso. "Et pour ce que je voy quil a de present grande puis- 
sance et grande richesse luy amenie je ce cy a propos a cause que jay dit devant 
que il soit promptement et loyaulment obey et servy de ses subjectz. Car pour 
certain la grande abundance et copiosite de biens et de richesse engendre animosite 
orgueul et presumption lesquelz esmeuvent et engendrent guerres et batailles. 
lequelles engendrent et causent povrete et destruction de gens et de pays. 
quelz et quantz maulx et infortunes en sont advenuez au royaulme par le space de 
trente ans plus quon ne scait pas." 

18 Ibid, folio 20. "Quant au regard de la duche de milan pour ce quil est tout 
cler et manifesto sans aucun doubte quelle luy appartient selon droict et raison 
par quoy il est tenu de la deffendre et garder. Toutesfoys pour ce que la facon et 
maniere de vivre des francoys est contraire et discordant a celle des lombardz par 
quoy il est difficile quil y ayt paix permanente entre eulx voyre a parler royallement 
quasi impossible." 


fifty thousand ducats to accrue to France. The good shepherd, 
says our moralist, will only shear his beasts, not devour them. 14 

Milan may, likewise, be held in peace if the king keeps about 
him the sons of all its principal citizens. At best, he may make 
them his friends. If not, De Marre somewhat ominously suggests, 
there are other methods of dealing with them. 16 At any rate, the 
holding of hostages would save the expense of soldiers. 

As to the wtorth of conquered territories in general, De Marre is 
by no means convinced. Louis already possesses Milan and Genoa, 
and they are indeed valuable, both commercially and strategically. 
He should, therefore, hold them perpetually united to the crown. 
But De Marre urges him strongly against the temptation to further 
conquest. For, he says, is it not better to maintain in peace the 
country which he already rules, itself sufficiently large and pro- 
ductivej than to labor continually to acquire still other lands, ex- 
posing himself constantly to peril without repose? 16 The writer 
further reminds the king that fortune is not always favorable. 

In considering internal matters, De Marre recurs to his funda- 
mental precept that public order is the great essential. In France, 
he is of the opinion that the continuance of feudal privilege is the 
greatest peril to that order. He therefore advocates the extinction 
of independent duchies. To those who maintain that the tradi- 
tional organization of France has always been feudal, he answers 
that, if the princes were loyal, it would be very pleasant to have 
dukes with then 1 trains of vassals, but apparently this is not to 
be hoped for. Therefore, all things well considered, it appears 
that the duchies of Burgundy, Normandy and Aquitaine, and the 
counties of Champagne, Toulouse, Poitou and Provence remain per- 
petually annexed and united to the crown. Above all, the duchy 
of Brittany should be so united, because for a long time the kingdom 
has suffered much on its account, especially in the times of Louis XI 
and his son, when that principality served many malcontents as 

14 Ibid, folios 20 to 22. ". . . loffice du bon pasteur est de tondre seulement 
les bestes non pas de les engloutir ou devorer." 

16 Ibid, folio 22 verso to 23. "Et au cas quilz abuseroient dicelle liberte laquelle 
chose dieu ne veulle pourtant on y pourvoyroit par autre moyen." 

16 Ibid, folio 25. ". . . ne vous vault il pas mieulx garder en paix le pais et 
region dont vous jouissez de present qui est grand et plantureux. que labourer 
continuellement pour avoir et acquerir autre pays et vous exposer en peril et 
danger sans avoir jamais repos." 


their last refuge. 17 It is of course true, says De Marre, that the 
younger sons of the king must be provided for, but it would be far 
better to give them, instead of great apanages, little plots of land 
or a moderate money settlement. If, indeed, they be granted land, 
it should always be such as is situated well within the body of the 
realm, with an annual revenue sufficient for their support. In order 
that this policy be put into execution, he feels that it would be wise 
to assemble what he is pleased to term the Estates: the prelates, 
the princes and the municipal governors, 18 in order that "this law 
and constitution, by their consent and for the maintenance and 
conservation of the public good, be perpetually established, held 
and confirmed." 19 

The law whose perpetual institution De Marre here advocates 
is of course that subsequently so widely known as "The Funda- 
mental Law of the French Nation," prohibiting alienations of the 
royal domain. In 1509 the central principle was already'well over 
a hundred years old. In an ordonnance of 1402, Charles VI had 

17 Ibid, folio 19 and 19 verso. "Toutefoys il seroit bien decent bien honneste 
et utile non obstant quil fust aucunement perrileux et ce quon ne void guere sy 
les princes estoyent loyaulx et obediens a leurs superieur davoir princes ducz 
avec grandz et puissans vassaulx. Pourtant toutes choses bien regardees et 
considerees et pour eslire la plus seure voye il mest advis sauf le conseil et lopinion 
plus saine quil seroit plus oportun et plus seur pour le royaulme que toutes ces 
pieces, cestassavoir la duche de bourgongne de normandie daquitaine la conte de 
champaigne de thoulouse et poictou de provence demourassent tousjours annexez 
et unies a la couronne pour ce quelles sont prochaines et voisines du royaulme et 
es termes et lieux adjacens diceluy. Et par especial aussy la duche de bretaigne 
pour ce que depuys peu de temps le royaulme en a eu moult a souffrir et prin- 
cipalement du temps du roy loys et de son filz. Car icelle duche de bretaigne luy 
a este et aux aultres malcontens dernier et extreme refuge." It is an index of the 
character of Louis XII that, in an address to him, De Marre could speak so 
bluntly of the malcontents who, in the times of Louis XI and his son, found 
refuge in Brittany. Chief of these was Louis of Orleans. 

18 While there was no fixed rule as to the composition of the Estates General, 
what De Marre here describes is really an Assembly of Notables. 

19 De Marre, op. cit., folio 23 and 23 verso. ". . . laquelle chose seroit plus 
seure et facile pour entretenir la paix et union du royaulme et par ceste voye le 
roy seroyt plus obey. . . . Et fauldroit pour cela fake et mettre a execucion con- 
greger et assembler tous les estatz. cestassavoir les prelatz les princes et les gouver- 
neurs de villes et de citez affin que perpetuellement ceste loy et constitucion par 
leur consentement et pour lentretenement et conservacion du bien public fust 
establye tenue et confermee. ..." 


in fact declared it to be perpetual and irrevocable. 20 It is interest- 
ing, if at the same time a little puzzling, that De Marre should 
propose the acceptance of that principle as if the idea were alto- 
gether a new one. Nowhere does he give any indication that he 
was acquainted with its history. However, we are here concerned 
not with the development of this part of French law, but with the 
political mentality of De Marre. In this connection, it is signifi- 
cant that the writer does not appeal to legal precedent as justifica- 
tion for what, as he sees it, amounts almost to the abolition of 
feudalism hi France. Instead, he alleges an altogether practical 
reason. The princes are not to be trusted and, for the well-being 
of the state, they must no longer be allowed to endanger the public 
peace. In effect, De Marre treats what was at least theoretically 
an established principle as if it were an innovation. And hi doing 
so, he takes the position of urging a fundamental alteration of the 
ancient constitution, if such alteration be desirable for the preserva- 
tion of good order. There is no need to point out how distant this 
attitude is from that of the medieval philosophers and legists. 

De Marre now turns to two further considerations which he 
regards as next in importance: the reformation of the church and 
of the parkments. As to the church, he holds the chief cause of its 
ills to be the promotion of unworthy persons to great benefices. 
This, in turn, he believes in large measure due to the venality of 
those "princes and other curialists who seek to enrich themselves 
from the goods and patrimony of the crucifix and of the church, 
rather than to succor the poor of Jesus Christ." Remedy is in the 
hands of the king. The actual election of the prelates should, the 
writer feels, be left to the chapters, but the sovereign has both 

20 Ordonnances des Rois de France, Vol. VIII, p. 486. "Et afin que cestes noz 
Ordonnance & revocation faites par tele & si grant deliberation, comme dessus est 
de'clairie', lesquelles Nous voulons & daemons valoir & avoir force & vigueur de 
Loy perp&uelle, soient plus fermement tenues, Nous avons jure 1 & jurons aux 
Saintes Euvangiles de Dieu par Nous touchie'es, les tenir & garder, & non faire 
en encontre; ..." Although it is in this ordonnance that the inalienability of 
the domain is first declared perpetual and irrevocable, it refers for precedent to 
the coronation oath of Charles V. That oath, while guaranteeing not to diminish 
the rights and honors of the crown, makes no specific reference to the domain. 
(For text, cf. Godefroy, T., CMmonialfrangois, Paris 1609, p. 76.) Prior to 1402, 
there had been a number of ordonnances promulgated revoking alienations of the 
domain: in 1318, 1357, 1358 and 1360. (Cf. Ordonnances I, 665; III, 162, 225 
and 442.) 


the right and the responsibility of searching out those men best 
qualified for election, and of commending them to the chapters 
when vacancies occur. Especially should the king not give ear to 
the importunate requests of those who look only to then* own 
interest. 21 As he has already envisaged the destruction of feudal 
independence, so here De Marre advocates the suppression of any 
right of provision to benefices other than that of the king himself. 22 

Those abuses which mar the courts of law De Marre believes to 
arise from the too great security in office of their members. He 
therefore urgently requests that the king appoint commissioners to 
make an inquisition into the conduct of the judges and advocates. 
Of then- corruption De Marre himself had little doubt. 28 Should 
the king find his fears to be justified, let him then take such steps 
against the guilty as "may furnish an example to others." The 
bishop furthermore insists that, against such remedial action, the 
claim should not avail that the offices of the crown are irrevocable. 
For, he says, there are such crimes as make it a crime not to exact 
vengeance for them. 24 

Thus yet again De Marre places his reliance upon the discre- 

21 De Marre, op. cit., folio 30. "Et quant le temps de vacacion sera venu et 
quil en sera averty doibt rescripre en la faveur daucun diceulx a tout le chapitre 
pour y pourvoir de celuy quil congnoistra le plus idoyne et utile . . . ne doibt pas 
iceluy roy acquiescer ne consentir aux importunes et inutiles requestes des princes 
et des autres curialistes qui desirent et appetent plus soy enrichir des biens et 
patrimpine du crucefix et de leglise quilz ne sont seurvenir et secourir aux povres 
de jesus crist." 

22 Ibid, folio 31. "Et toutesfoys le roy nostredict seigneur fait toutes ces choses 
siennes et sen attribue la puissance totale jouxte ce proverbe. Nous faisons 
toutes ces choses nostres es quelles nous impartissons et demonstrons a voir 

23 Ibid, folio 33 verso. "Comment est il possible que les presidens les conseil- 
liers de parlement et les autres maistres officiers et gardes de justice commis et 
establis par tout le royaulme puissent si facilement et en si petit de temps avec 
les gaiges ordinaires du roy. soy enrichir et acquerir si grandz biens." 

24 Ibid, folio 34. ". . . je prie et requier pour le profict et utilite du bien public 
quil plaise a nostre diet seigneur ce voyage icy faict et acomply dy deputer et 
commettre commissaires pour soy enquerir des choses precedentes et la verite 
trouvee et prouvee manif estement dy pourvoir en telle sorte et facon que cela soit 
cause de donner exemple aux autres voir suple en civilement parlant. Et a ce ne 
peult obvier ny repugner ce que aucuns porroient alleguer et dire que les offices 
des roys sont irrevocables. Pour ce quil ya aucunes coulpes es quelles cest coulpe 
de relacher la vengeance." 


tionary will of the king, and twice reveals his conviction that the 
public interest justifies action, even if it be contrary to the cus- 
tomary interpretation of vested right. It is true that he nowhere 
specifically formulates this proposition, but the entire second section 
of his treatise is instinct with it. 

The last part of the Regime d'un Prince, while of considerable 
interest as revealing the strength of at least one Frenchman's en- 
thusiasm for common European action against the Turk, it is not 
very closely related to what goes before it. It is worth noting that 
De Marre does not advocate a crusade in the spirit of Peter the 
Hermit. The religious aspect of war against the Turk does indeed 
appeal to him, but he is equally concerned with the material danger 
which that conquering people presents to Europe. He even ex- 
presses himself as fearful for the security of France. 26 His detailed 
suggestions for the organization of an expedition against Constan- 
tinople however add little to our understanding of his political 

But how, indeed, are those principles to be understood? How is 
the disparity between De Marre's professed ethics and his apparent 
pragmatic hardness to be explained? Some might hold that the 
opening sentiments of his treatise are a sham; that the writer felt 
himself bound, as an ecclesiastic, to pay lip service to the tradi- 
tional ethics of Christian religion. Or it might be represented that 
he was lacking hi perception, and that his inconsistencies were not 
apparent to him. It would require more knowledge of the man 
than we possess to reach a satisfactory conclusion on either point. 
Yet, as we have already indicated, this is not the only work of its 
period hi which such conflicting ideas are to be found. The Regime 
d'un Prince is symptomatic of an inner discord present in a large 
part of French political writing for several generations. Since the 
early fifteenth century, French thinkers had sought a principle 
which might resolve, to their minds and consciences, the complexi- 
ties of the changed world in which they lived. For the Hundred 
Years War and the anarchy which attended it had undermined the 
central doctrines alike of medieval morality and of medieval law. 
Nevertheless, the destruction of peace and of legal orderliness did 

25 Ibid, folio 39. "... icelluy turc et ennemys de nostre foy pensent nuyt et 
jour comme il pourront parvenir a la division et destruction diceluy royaulme 
plus que de nul autre." 


not obliterate all respect for law, or bring all Frenchmen to the 
cynicism of certain of their Italian contemporaries. Most writers, 
during the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, whether of 
the traditional religious education or disciples of the new Human- 
ism, were convinced of the existence of an ethical ideal, and of the 
need for its formulation in an ethical code. On the other hand, all 
whose perceptions were not befogged by sheer abstraction, could 
not but perceive the equally urgent need for reform and reorganiza- 
tion in state and church. We can not doubt, in view of the wide- 
spread regard for Louis XII, that most Frenchmen during his reign 
approved in general the work of the monarchy in bringing about the 
security and prosperity of that period. 28 Moreover, many honest 
men were willing to agree that stern and even arbitrary action, 
which might at tunes go counter to ordinary law and custom, and 
sometimes verge on tyranny, might be warrantable, in the general 
interest. 27 

The problem which confronted political thinkers hi the Renais- 
sance was to explain and justify that which perforce they approved 
in the material world, without doing extreme violence to then' 
philosophic convictions and their respect for law. Such a writer 
as Jean de Marre gives simultaneous expression to his attachment 
to the ancient ethics, and to his practical sense of affairs. And it is 
not impossible that he believed himself to have found a reconcilia- 
tion between them. 

It is not by placing exclusive emphasis upon either element in 
early Renaissance thought that we may reach an understanding 
of the political outlook of that epoch. Neither Jean de Marre nor 
his contemporaries were able, ad hoc, to devise a new vocabulary to 

26 Our evidence as to the reverence in which Frenchmen held the monarchy 
at this period includes even the testimony of Macchiavelli: "La corona e li Regi 
di Francia sono oggi piu ricchi e piu potent! che mai." "Sono i popoli di Francia 
umili e ubbedientissimi, ed hanno in gran venerazione il loro Re." Ritratti delle 
cose della Francia, in Opere, London 1768, vol. Ill, pp. 217 and 230. 

27 The difficulty of distinguishing sharply between even a good king and a 
tyrant is formulated by a contemporary of Louis XI, in the following words: 
"Ne ung bon roy aussi na pas toutes les condicions du bon roy, car il seroit comme 
demy dieu, ne n'est si bon roy qui ne ait aulcune condicion du tyrant." Des 
Gros, Pierre, Le Jardin des Nobles, Biblioth&que Nationale, ms. fr. 193; fol. 198 
verso, col. 2. Des Gros goes on to point out that the best of kings may be forced 
to employ "explorateurs et espions" in the good discharge of his office, although 
the use of spies is usually ascribed only to tyrants. 


express new concepts. Yet it is as much an error to suppose that 
in using the words of the Middle Ages, they continued to think 
like Thomas Aquinas, as to imagine that in recognizing and accept- 
ing the circumstances of then* own day, they were in fact the spir- 
itual kin of Macchiavelli. The keystone of De Marre's political 
philosophy is his confidence in the monarch. In a good king, a king 
p&re du peupk, the verities of the speculative understanding might 
be reconciled with the importunities of practical action. It is per- 
haps not beside the point that Louis XII was the only modern king 
of France called, and by popular tradition believed to have been 
p&re du peuple. Whatever occasioned De Marre's confidence, we 
should not dismiss it lightly, because underlying the matured 
doctrines of French absolutism giving life to theories of sover- 
eignty, and perhaps even explaining how moral men could subscribe 
to such an idea as ration d'&at was the assurance that the long 
could be trusted to act in the nation's interest; and that the nation 
was good. 





Harvard University 

The Moralium Dogma Philosophorum was, if we are to judge from 
the number of its manuscripts and translations and the instances 
of its use in other works, one of the most influential of the many 
books of ethical instruction which flourished hi the later Middle 
Ages. 1 But despite this popularity, or perhaps because of it, no 

1 Critical edition by John Holmberg, Das Moralium Dogma Philosophorum des 
Guittaume de Conches, Lateinisch, Altfranzdsisch und MittelniederfrdnMsch (Arbeten 
utgivna med understod av Vilhelm Ekmans Universitetsfond, no. 37, Upsala, 
1929). At least sixty-seven manuscripts of the Latin original are extant, dating 
from the twelfth to the fifteenth century (see Holmberg, pp. 12-15; and J. R. 
Williams, 'The Authorship of the Moralium Dogma Philosophorum,' Speculum, 
VI [1931], 392, n. 2). The Old French version survives in thirty-eight codices 
(Holmberg, pp. 39-40) and there are manuscripts of translations in Italian (ed. 
Roberto de Visiani, TroMo di Virtu Morale [Scelta di Curiositfc Litterarie Inedite, 
vol. LXI, Bologna, 1865]; see also Adolf o Mussafia, in Rodolfo Renier, Delia 
Vita e delle Opere di Brunetto Latini, Monografia di Thor Sundby, Tradotta dalV 
Originale Danese con Appendici di Isidoro del Lungo e Adolfo Mussafia [Florence, 
1884], p. 282), Franconian (Hohnberg, pp. 59-61, and 85 ff.) and Icelandic (Thor 
Sundby, Brunetto Latinos Levnet og Skrifter [Copenhagen, 1869], Appendix, p. cxxi, 
and n. 1). For the influence of the Moralium Dogma see in particular Hohnberg, 
pp. 9-11, p. 11, n. 4, pp. 33 ff., and the notes on pp. 184-193; Thor Sundby, 
Brunetto Latinos Levnet, pp. 52-54 and 169-179; Sundby, Albertani Brixiensis 
Liber Consolationis et Consilii (London: Chaucer Society, 1873), pp. 21 and 93-94; 
A. SchSnbach, 'Die Quelle Wernhers von Elmendorf,' Zeitschrift fur deutsches 
AUerthum und deutsche Litteratur, XXXIV (N. F., XXII, 1890), 55 ff.; J. Williams, 
in Speculum, VI, 393 and notes; O. Lottin, 'Les Ramifications des Vertues Cardi- 
nales avant S. Thomas d'Aquin,' Recherches de TMologie Ancienne et M6dievale, 
VI (1934), 88-94; G. Ehrismann, Geschichte der deutschen Literatur bis zum Aus- 
gang des Mittelalters, II (Mtinchen, 1935), 310 f.; and Martin Grabmann, Hand- 
schriftliche Forschungen und Mitteilungen zum Schrifttum des Wilhelm von Conches 
und zu Bearbeitungen seiner naturunssenschaftlichen Werke (Sitzungsberichte der 
Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Phil.-hist. Kl., vol. X, 1935), pp. 



satisfactory information has come down to us as to its authorship. 
The manuscripts, Lathi and vernacular, variously attribute the 
book to Guillaume de Conches, to Gauthier de CMtillon, to a 
Master Odo, to a Master Guide, 2 to Jean de Meun, to 'Valtirr af 
Sallibur/ to the fifteenth-century Jean de Courtecuisse. 3 Since 
the work is essentially a collection of quotations drawn chiefly from 
Cicero and Seneca (with passages also from Macrobius, Boethius, 
Sallust, Horace, Terence, Lucan, and others), it is not surprising 
that several codices ascribe it to Seneca, others to Cicero himself. 4 
And the problem is further complicated by the addition in earlier 
modern tunes of several other candidates to the list, notably Hugh 
of St Victor, Hildebert of Lavardin, Bartholomaeus of Pisa, Bar- 
tholomaeus of Racanati, and Claude de Seyssel. 6 

More recent critical scholarship has, however, reduced the number 
of this large and heterogeneous company to two: Guillaume de 
Conches and Gauthier de Chatillon. The case for Guillaume was 
made most forcefully by Haur^au, 6 who, among all his evidence, laid 
particular stress on the significance of the proemium, which (in 
some manuscripts) addresses the person to whom the work is dedi- 
cated as 'uir optime et liberalis Henrice.' 7 For this excellent and 
gracious man is, according to Haure"au's argument, Henry of Anjou- 

2 Identified by H. 0. Coxe (Catalogus Codd. Mss. Coll Oxon., II [1852], 31) 
with Guido Vicentino. Coxe gives no authority for this identification. 

8 See especially Holmberg, pp. 5-6; Williams in Speculum, VI, 396-399; and 
Thor Sundby, Brunetto Latinos Levnet, p. 167. Apparently the earliest manu- 
script to make an attribution, Erlangen 272 (396), names Guillaume de Conches, 
but this is in the late thirteenth century. 

4 Holmberg, p. 6, and nn. 5 and 6. Even St. Augustine is named as author 
in the British Museum manuscript, Royal 8 C. iv (xiv c.). Cf. Williams, p. 397. 

6 See Beaugendre, Venerabilis Hildeberli primo Cenomanensis Episcopi deinde 
Turonensis Archiepiscopi Opera tarn Edita quam Inedita (Paris, 1708), p. 959 
(cf. Migne, Pair, lot., CLXXI, 1005 ff.)j B. HaurSau, Notices et Extraits de Quelqws 
Mamiscrits Latins de la Bibliotheque Nationak, I (Paris, 1890), 100-106; and 
Holmberg, pp. 5 and 19. 

6 Notices et Extraits, I, 99-109. 

''Ibid., I, 106-108. Most of the manuscripts read merely 'uir optime et 
liberalis,' some others 'uir optime et liberalis R'; but the 'R' Haure"au explains as 
meaning rex, i.e. rex Henrice (I, 108). Cf. Holmberg, p. 7 and notes; and Wil- 
liams, p. 401 and n. 5. The phrase appears to be an adaptation of the words 
'uir optime Liberalis' at the opening of Seneca's De Benefidis, where Liberalis 
is not an adjective but the name of Aebutius Liberalis of Lyons, to whom the 
work is addressed. 


Plantagenet, whose tutor Guillaume de Conches is known to have 
been. If it failed to remove doubt from the minds of all the 
critics, this statement of the theory of Guillaume's authorship held 
the field unchallenged for well over forty years. 8 

But the entire problem was reopened in 1931 by John R. Williams, 
who, in an article hi Speculum, questions the decisiveness of Hau- 
re"au's facts and the argument based upon them. In particular he 
shows that the details of the pfoemiwn may be applied more pre- 
cisely to Henry of France, brother of King Louis VII and Arch- 
bishop of Rheims, than to Henry Plantagenet. 9 It is Henry of 
France whom the poet Gauthier de Chatillon appears to have 
served as clerk. And though Williams offers nothing beyond this 
attractive interpretation of the dedication in positive support of 
his claim for Gauthier's authorship, his examination of the internal 
evidence of the Moralium Dogma itself, discloses obstacles, pre- 
viously unseen, hi the way of the attribution to Guillaume de 
Conches which are troublesome to circumvent. 10 

The recent appearance in print of a hitherto unpublished section 
of the writings of Guillaume, 11 a fragment which forms part of what 
may conveniently be referred to as a Tertia Philosophic, (though 
it falls chronologically between the Prima and the Secunda Philo- 

8 It has been accepted by Clemens Baeumker (art. 'Wilhelm von Conches,' hi 
Wetzer and Welte, Kirchenlexikon, 2nd ed., XII [1901], 1601), Maurice de Wulf 
(Histoire de la, Philosophic Medievale [Louvain, 1924], I, 145), Lynn Thorndike 
(History of Magic and Experimental Science [2nd ed., New York, 1929], II, 51), 
H. Flatten (Die Philosophic des Wilhelm von Conches [diss., Bonn, 1929], pp. 13, 
14, 184 ff .), 0. Lottin ('Les Debuts du Traite" de la Prudence au Moyen Age,' 
Recherches de Theologie Andenne et Meditvale, IV [1932], p. 270; but see the review 
in the next note below), Carmelo Ottaviano (Un Brano Inedilo della ( Philosophia' 
di Guglielmo di Conches [Collezione di Testi Filosofici Inediti e Ran, no. I, Naples, 
1935], p. 8); and, with increasing doubt in his later books, by Haskins (Norman 
Institutions [Harvard Historical Studies, vol. XXIV], p. 131 ; Studies in Mediaeval 
Science [Harvard Historical Studies, vol. XXVII, Cambridge, 1927], p. 29 and 
n. 49; The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century [Cambridge, 1928], p. 102). R. L. 
Poole, Illustrations of the History of Mediaeval Thought and Learning (2nd ed., 
London: SPCK, 1920), pp. 298 fif., fails, however, to list the Moralium Dogma 
with Guillaume's writings. 

9 Speculum, VI, 402-407. See the review by D. 0. L. [0. Lottin] in Recherches 
de Th6ologie Andenne et Medievale, IV (1932), 522*, no. 1030. 

10 See below, p. 27. 

11 Ed. Ottaviano, Un Brano Inedilo della 'Philosophia' di Guglielmo di Conches 


sophia, or DragmaticonP), brings to light a passage of moral instruc- 
tion that invites comparison with the corresponding parts of the 
Moralium Dogma Philosophorum, and thus suggests consideration 
relative to the problem of its authorship. That this fragment is 
itself genuinely Guillaume's work is attested by the fact of its 
forming the earlier books of a more extensive opus which is other- 
wise virtually identical with Books II-IV of the Prima Philosophia, 
by its reference to his Commentary on Boethius, and by its use of 
phrases characteristic of Guillaume. 13 

The ethical passage in question is a description of the four 
Cardinal Virtues, which appears hi Book One during the course of 
a general classification of the parts of philosophy;. 14 And it is to be 
noted that, though the classification here represented bears the 
closest resemblance in its chief details to that given by the Didas- 
calicon of Hugh of St Victor, 16 the discussion of the virtues finds no 
parallel in Hugh's book. This is Guillaume's addition. It perhaps 
reflects the example of Isidore of Seville, 16 whose discussion of the 
various branches of knowledge in the Etymologiae, lies behind much 
that occurs hi the Wissenschaftslehre of both these twelfth-century 
writers. 17 

12 It was apparently written some time between 1136 and 1141, since it refers 
(Ottaviano, p. 44) to an 'archiepiscopus biterinus' (i.e. archiepiscopus bituricensis; 
see Grabmann, Wilhelm von Conches, p. 10), who may be identified with Alberic 
of Rheims, archbishop of Bourges during these years. The Dragmaticon, which 
was itself written between 1147 and 1149 (according to R. L. Poole, 'The Masters 
of the School at Paris and Chartres in John of Salisbury's Time,' The English 
Historical Review, XXXV [1920], 334), speaks of the Prima Philosophia as a work 
'quern in juventute nostra imperfectum utpote imperfecti composuismus.' 

18 Ottaviano, pp. 10-12. Cf. Grabmann, Wilhelm von Conches, pp. 7-8. The 
fragment had previously been known as Guillaume's to H. Ostler (Die Psychologic 
des Hugo von St Viktor, Beitrage zur Geschichte der Philos. d. Mittelalters, Texte 
u. Untersuchungen, hrsg. C. Baeumker u. G. freih. von Hertling, VI, 1 [1906], 
11, n. 3) and to Flatten (Die Philosophic des Wilhelm von Conches, p. 10, n. 8, 
et passim), who made some use of it. 

14 Ottaviano, pp. 29-30. 

15 Migne, Pair. Lat., CLXXVI, 739 ff., but especially Books I-II, and VI, 
capp. xiv and xv. See Flatten, Die Philosophic des Wilhelm von Conches, pp. 
30-31; and Grabmann, Die Geschichte der scholastischen Methode, II (Freiburg, 
1911), 235-248. Both Guillaume's and Hugh's classifications are similar to that 
which appears in the earlier Speculum Universale of Radulfus Ardens: see Grab- 
mann, Die Geschichte der scholastischen Methode, I (1909), 246-254. 

16 Etymologiae, (ed. Lindsay) II, xxiv, 5 and 6. See below, n. 25. 

17 Isidore's classification is, of course, Platonic as against the Aristotelian 


Now the relevance of this passage in the Tertia Philosophia to 
the problem of the authorship which we have before us, arises from 
the fact that its sub-division of each of the four Cardinal Virtues 
differs in some respects from that of the Moralium Dogma. Thus, 
hi the Moralium Dogma the parts of Prudentia are given as provi- 
dentia, circumspectio, cautio, docilitas; 18 whereas in the Tertia 
Philosophia they appear as memoria, intelligentia, providentia. 19 
The second virtue, Justitia, is divided in the Moralium Dogma into 
severitas and liberalitas; and these two are further sub-divided: 
liberalitas contains the distinctions benenWntia and benignitas, and 
benignitas is considered under the aspects religio, pietas, inno- 
centia, amicitia, reverentia, concordia, misericordia. 20 In the Tertia 
Philosophia, however, justice falls into the categories justitia natu- 
ralis and justitia consuetudinaria, and naturalis into religio, pietas, 
gratia, vindicatio, observantia and veritas. Fortitude is composed, 
according to the Moralium Dogma, of magnanimitas, fiducia, 21 
securitas, magnificentia, constantia, and patientia; 22 but according 
to the Tertia Philosophia, of magnificentia, fidentia, patientia, and 
perseverantia. And, finally, temperantia is divided by the Mo- 
ralium Dogma into modestia, verecundia, a group dealing with 
moderation in eating and drinking (abstinentia, honestas, moder- 
antia, parcitas, sobrietas), and pudicitia; 23 but by the Tertia Philo- 
sophia into continentia, modestia, and dementia. 

According to Grabmann in his survey of the writings of Guillaume 
de Conches, only lately made, these differences are decisive. 24 
Guillaume cannot have been the author of the Moralium Dogma. 

But the decisiveness of such evidence is open to question. To 
begin with, it is worth observing that the passages in the two works 

arrangement of both Hugh and Guillaume, but such details, for example, as his 
definitions of philosophy (II, xxiv, 9 and 10; cf. Boethius, In Porphyrium, Dialogus 
I, Migne, LXIV, 10-11) and his history and description of the parts of magic 
(VIII, ix, De Magis) are echoed in their works: Hugh, Didascalicon, II, cap. i, 
and VI, cap. xv; Guillaume, ed. Ottaviano, pp. 24-25. 

18 Holmberg, p. 8. 

19 By an oversight Grabmann, Wilhelm von Conches, p. 12, attributes the first 
classification to the Tertia Philosophia, and this to the Moralium Dogma. 

20 Holmberg, pp. 12, 13 and 23 ff . 

21 Not fidentia, as Grabmann, Wilhelm von Conches, p. 13, states. 

22 Holmberg, p. 30. 

23 Grabmann, Wilhelm von Conches, p. 13, adds continentia by error. 

24 Wilhelm von Conches, p. 12. 


contain not only diff erences, but also many fundamental similarities. 
The definitions of the four "Virtues, for example, are themselves the 
same, having been, drawn in both books from Cicero's De Inven- 
tione. K And this is true also of the names and descriptions of some 
of the sub-divisions, As for the differences, they are not in them- 
selves significant enough, nor do they concern a subject of suffi- 
cient importance in Guillaume's scheme of things (as they would 
did they involve, say, the nature and powers of the soul, or natural 
philosophy), 26 to constitute a serious problem. Nor need the di- 
vergent classifications be regarded as mutually exclusive. If a point 
is made, for instance, of the striking difference between the sub- 
division of Justitia by the Tertia Philosophic, into naturalis and 
consuetudinaria, and that by the Moralium Dogma into severitas 
and liberalitas and liberalitas into benignitas and beneficentia, then 
it ought surely not to be overlooked that the discrepancy arises in 
large part from the fact that these passages are here following two 

26 ii, 53 and 54. 

The description of Frudentia in the Moralium Dogma has, however, a dis- 
tinctive touch which has escaped the notice of the editor and is worthy of atten- 
tion: 'Prudentia est rerum bonarum et malarum et utrarumque discretio.' 
'Prudentia diximus esse discretionem rerum bonarum et malarum et utrarumque. 
Hec namque uirtus discernit bona a mails et bona ab inuicem, mala ab inuicem.' 
(Holmberg, pp. 7 and 8.) Cicero's word is 'scientia,' not 'discretio,' and the 
phrase 'Hec namque uirtus . . . inuicem/ does not appear in his work. These 
deviations in the Moralium Dogma apparently go back in part to Isidore of Seville 
(Etymologiae, ed. Lindsay, II, xxiv, 5), who says of Prudence: Trudentia est in 
rebus, qua discernuntur a bonis mala.' The characteristic use of 'discretio' appears 
also in the work of a contemporary of Guillaume, Bernard Silvester, Commentum 
super Sex Libras Eneidos Virgilii, ed. Riedel (Greifswald, 1924), p. 26, 11. 20-21; 
and subsequently in Jean de La Rochelle, who is following the Moralium (Grab- 
mann, Wilhelm von Conches, p. 16). The verb 'discerno,' used hi the psychology 
of the thirteenth century (as based on the De Fide Orthodoxa of John Damascenus) 
to describe one of the stages by which the will leads to virtuous action, is applied 
directly to Prudence by the Chancellor Phillip: 'Ordinantur autem isti actus 
(rationis) et ad inuicem distinguuntur, ut primus sit inquirere; secundus est 
discernere et est respiciens bonum per modum ueri in separatione cognitiua a suo 
opposite; tertius scire bonum per modum ueri quod est in termino discretionis. 
. . . ' (Quoted from MS Brussels Bibl roy. 1801-1808, f . 170 V , and MS Paris B. N. 
lat. SlJfi, f. 96 r , by 0. Lottin, in Recherches de Theol. Anc. et M4d., IV, 274, n. 15; 
cf. Lottin, 'La Psychologic de 1'Acte Humain chez Saint Jean Damascene et les 
Th4ologiens du XIII me Siecle Occidental,' Revue Thomiste, XXXVI (1931), 637 ff. 

26 See below, p. 29. 


different works of Cicero ! 27 From the rich store of moral instruction 
which the later Middle Ages inherited from the ancient Roman 
writers and their successors, a twelfth-century philosopher who 
sought to make a summa of science and wisdom might well contain 
several arrangements of the parts of the Virtues, according as his 
sources and immediate purposes varied. In Book One of the 
Tertia Philosophic, the discussion of the Virtues is only incidental to 
the main subject, which is, as we have seen, the classification of the 
parts of philosophy: the amount of space devoted to their exposi- 
tion is limited by the requirements of proportion. Hence Guil- 
laume reproduces from Cicero's De Inventione, almost without 
change in language, an account which is rounded but compact. 28 
The Moralium Dogma serves quite another end. Its treatment of 
the virtues is not incidental but the main business of the book, one 
purpose of which (as we find suggested in so many words 29 ) is to 
collect hi a single work for ready reference a body of quotations on 
the subject from all the chief moral philosophers. Hence the com- 
piler begins, paralleling the Tertia Philosophia, with the De Inven- 
tione, then continues with definitions, sub-headings, phrases gath- 
ered from the De Officiis, from Seneca, from Macrobius, from 
Boethius, from Lucan, and the others, in fulfillment of his inten- 
tion. The two works are thus quite divergent in then* results, but 
I do not see how this can be regarded per se as necessarily relevant 
to the problem of then* authorship. 

If, however, the differences between them are still felt to be a 
serious obstacle, what are we to judge of a further discrepancy in 
the very passage in the Tertia Philosophia that we have just been 
dealing with, a discrepancy which exists, not between it and a 
book of such doubtful authenticity as the Moralium Dogma, but 

27 For the Moralium Dogma see De Offidis, I, vii, 20, et passim] for the Tertia 
Philosophia see De Inventione, ii, 53 and 54. It should be observed that in his 
Commentary on the Timaeus, Guillaume (Ouvrages Inedits d'Abelard, ed. Victor 
Cousin [Paris, 1836], Appendice V, p. 648) divides Justice into naturalis and 
positiva, corresponding to the naturalis and consuetudinaria of the Tertia Philo- 
sophia. The variation in terminology is easily explained: instead of Cicero, he is 
here drawing on Chalcidius (Platonis Timaeus Interprete Chalddio cum Eiusdem 
Commentario, ed. Wrobel [Leipzig, 1876], Commentarius, VI, p. 72). 

28 Ottaviano fails to note the source of this passage. To the seven citations 
of Cicero which he ('Prefazione,' p. 14) offers as part of the evidence of Guillaume's 
humanistic interests, should be added this very extensive eighth. 

29 See below, p. 33. 


between Guillaume's Commentary on Boethius and the Tertia 
Philosophia, on the one hand, and his Timaeus Commentary on 
the other? Is this to engage us in a further problem of authen- 

The disagreement involves the close of the discussion of the 
Virtues hi the Tertia Philosophia, where the writer points out the 
correspondence between the four-fold nature of the soul, which 
they are designed to raise to a state of immortality, and the four 
chief parts of knowledge, 80 and then ends with several appropriate 

Cuius anime dicitur esse quaternarius ab antiquis celebratus quattuor supra- 
dicte scientie: theorica que veritatis specula tio est, practica que morum discipli- 
nam, mechanica que huius vite actiones, loica que recte loquendi et disputandi 
copiam subministrat. Unde MACROBIUS: 'Per quern nostre anime numerum dedit 
esse quaternarium' ', et PLATO: 'Unus, duo, tres, quartum e numero requiro,' scilicet 
mechanicam que non aderat imbecillitate detenta. 31 

The Aristotelian-Boethian classification of scientia, which we 
recognize here, conforms to what Guillaume has said on the subject 
elsewhere, just as its disagreement with Boethius in the implied 
position of logica (loica) as a separate branch of knowledge, ancillary 
to rather than part of philosophia, agrees with Guillaume's position 
in his Commentary on the De Consolatione Philosophiae. 

Now Guillaume also associates the beginning of the Timaeus with 
the parts of knowledge, in his separate Commentary on this book 

30 Cf. Hugh of St Victor, Didascalicon, II, capp, v ff. (Migne, CLXXVI, 753 ff.). 

81 Ottaviano, p. 30. The editor erroneously includes ua the quotation from 
Plato the phrase 'scilicet . . . detentia,' which is Guillaume's note of explanation. 
I have made the correction here. 

32 Ch. Jourdain, 'Des Commentaires Ine*dits de Guillaume de Conches et de 
Nicolas Triveth sur la Consolation de la Philosophic de Bofice,' Notices et Ex- 
traits des Mss., XX, 2 e partie (1862), 73. See also the Tertia Philosophia, Otta- 
viano, p. 28, and especially 11. 24r-27: 'Hee tres appendices sunt et philosophic 
instrumenta, ideoque non sunt de ipsa set ad ipsam referuntur. Videtur tamen 
dicere boethius quod loica sit instrumentum et pars; nichil enim impedit pro 
quorundam oppinione ipsam in philosophia contineri.' Cf. Boethius, In Por- 
phyrium, Dialogus I, Migne, Pair. Lat., LXIV, 12; and In Porphyrium Com- 
mentaria, lib. I, Migne, LXIV, 74-75. Guillaume also differs in this respect 
with Hugh of St Victor (Didascalicon, IV, cap. xxix, Migne, CLXXVI, 763). 
See Flatten, Die Philosophic des Wilhelm von Conches, pp. 22 and 24. For the 
subordinate place assigned to mechanica, see Ottaviano, p. 31; and Hugh of St 
Victor, Didascalicon, II, cap. xxi, Migne, CLXXVI, 760. 


of Plato. Here, however, he deals, not with the four numbers, but 
with only three: 

Tres vero tantum numeros ponit, quia de tribus simplici modo, secundum 
auctoritatem Boethii, agit: de divina intellectualiter, de mathematicis doctrinaliter, 
de physicis naturaliter. Tractate de divinis intellectualiter est, remota omni 
opinione, quicquid dicatur de divinis certa ratione subjecta confirmare. De 
mathematicis doctrinaliter agere, est de eis quae pertinent ad quadrivium sic 
tractare, ut quod regula dicitur sub oculis in figura ostendatur, ut in quadrivio 
agitur. De physicis vero naturaliter agere est de naturis corporum, subjecta 
physica ratione, tractare. 88 

Afterwards, not forgetting the mention of number four entirely, he 
adds: 'Quartus ille Plato fuit, qui quasi ab opere se subtraxit, dum 
non sibi, sed Thimaeo, propter praedictas rationes, illud attribuit.' 84 

Thus far, though this varies from the account hi the Tertia 
Philosophia, there is no fundamental discrepancy. The difference 
may be explained by the fact that, whereas in that work Plato's 
words are applied to the entire field of knowledge, here they are 
interpreted only in connection with one of its parts, i.e. theonca, 
which is the main topic of Plato's book, and to which belong, as 
Guillaume points out in the Tertia Philosophia also, 86 the sub-divi- 
sions theologia, mathematica, and physica. 36 

But a striking incongruity is introduced by the Timaeus Com- 
mentary as it continues with its explanation of Plato's use of 
cardinal rather than ordinal numbers to symbolize the parts of 
knowledge: 'Per cardinalia nomina illos vocat, non ordinalia, ne uni 
alium praeferre videretur.' 37 For the express statement that theo- 
logia, mathematica, and physica are all on an equal level of impor- 
tance is in direct contradiction to what Guillaume says on the 
significant subject of the hierarchy of knowledge (or gradus philo- 
sophiae) in his work on the De Consolatione of Boethius: 

Qui vero sint illi gradus philosophiae, id est ordo ascendendi de practica ad 
theoricam, sic videndum est. Prius est homo instruendus in moribus per ethicam, 

33 Ed. Cousin, Ouvrages Inddites d'Abttard, p. 654. 


36 Ottaviano, p. 26. 

36 We may perhaps be amused, however, at the flexibility of interpretation 
which permits Guillaume to identify the fourth number, in one passage with 
Plato, but in another with mechanica 'que non aderat imbecillitate detenta.' 

37 Cousin, p. 654. 


deinde in dispensation proprie familie per economicam, postea in gubernatione 
rerum per politicam. Deinde, cum in istis perfects exercitatus fuerit, debet 
transire ad contemplationem eorum quae sunt circa corpora, per mathematicam 
et physicam, usque ad celestia; deinde ad contemplationem incorporeorum usque 
ad Creatorem, per theologiam. Et hie est ordo philosophiae. 38 

No doubt other examples of such minor variations could, with 
search, be discovered. 

Just what sort of inconsistencies a writer may be capable of, is a 
question often difficult to settle. The answer usually depends on a 
full examination of his opinions and the circumstances hi which 
they were formed. Nor should it fail to make allowances for the 
possibility that a man may simply change his mind. In Guil- 
laume's case there are two considerations which we may well feel 
to be of particular importance hi this matter. The first is his 
violent dislike of the group of teachers known as Gornificians, 
whose shortcuts to learning ran counter to the slower, more labori- 
ous approach of the older masters of the school of Chartres, and 
whom Guillatime takes frequent opportunity to castigate. 89 The 
second consideration is Guillaume's special pre-occupation with 
natural philosophy. Thus, when some of his statements in the 
Prima Philosophic, about the Trinity and other related subjects 
aroused the theological ire of such men as the Abbot of St Thierry, 40 
Guillaume did not hesitate in the Dragmaticon to retreat to a safer 
position with respect to these matters; but in questions relating to 
Naturwissenschaft he would not be intimidated, maintaining then 
as previously his characteristically objective attitude. 41 And the 
Tertia Philosophia itself now adds what is perhaps a further bit of 
evidence of this interest, in the unhostile temper of its account of 
the science of magic. 'Demonstration;,' writes Guillaume by way 
of introduction, 'que artes sint de philosophia, que ad ipsam, que 
sue. Nunc que sint ab ea remote. Hec est vero magica, idest 
indivinandi scientia.' The rest of the passage, though related in 
many respects to the description in the Didascalicon, omits Hugh 

38 Jourdain, Notices et Extraits, XX, 2 a partie, 74. Cf. Flatten, p. 26 and n. 112. 

39 See R. L. Poole, Illustrations of the History of Medieval Thought and Learning, 
Appendix vii, pp. 310-314. 

40 Guillelmi Abbatis S. Theodorici De Erroribus Guittelmi de Conchis ad Sanctum 
Bernardum, Migne, Patr. 'Lai., CLXXX, 333-340. 

41 See Thorndike, History of Magic and Experimental Science, II, 59 ff. 


of St Victor's strong and traditional condemnation, 42 and confines 
itself entirely to history and classification. 48 

Now the Moralium Dogma Philosophorum contains passages 
which are directly opposed to both of these biases. 44 For the 
words in which the compiler describes his achievement ('Fere enim 
omnia moralium doctorum elegantiora uerba hec angusta particula 
comprehendit. Vnde hie facilius intueri ea poteris, quam si per 
multorum uolumina uagando dispersa colligeres' 46 ) are far more 
characteristic of the superficiality of a Cornifician than of the old- 
fashioned thoroughness of Chartres. If Guillaume wrote a book of 
moral instruction which he was willing to dedicate to his noble 
charge, it is strange indeed that he includes in it so typical an 
example of the claims of his well-hated foes! As for his interest in 
natural philosophy, it will be hard by any explanation to reconcile 
with this the slighting words on the subject quoted by the Moralium 
Dogma from Seneca: 'Licet nescias que ratio oceanum effundat, 
quid sit quod gemellorum conceptum separet, partum iungat, cur 
simul natis fata diuersa suit: non multum tibi nocebit transire 
quod nee licet scire, nee prodest.' 46 

These two major inconsistencies we may indeed believe Guil- 
laume to have been incapable of. If we are to doubt his authorship 
of the Moralium Dogma, it must, until other testimony is produced, 
be primarily on the grounds which they provide, and not upon the 
far less certain evidence of the divergent classifications of the Car- 
dinal Virtues, which has been so positively brought forward in proof. 

42 VI, cap. xv, Migne, CLXXVI, 810: 'Magica in philosophia non recipitur; 
sed est extrinsecus falsa professions, omnis iniquitatis et malitiae magistra, de 
vero mentiens, et veraciter laedens animos, seducit a religione divina, culturam 
daemonum suadet, morum corruptionem ingerit, et ad omne scelus ac nefas 
mentes sequacium impellit.' The connection, yet contrast, with Guillaume's 
simple 'Nunc que sint ab ea remote,' is illuminating. 

43 Ottaviano, pp. 35-36. In this work (Ottaviano, pp. 44-46), as in the Prima 
Philosophia (I, cap. xviii, Migne, CLXXII, 47) and the Dragmaticon (see Thorn- 
dike, II, 61), Guillaume also shows a similar objectivity with regard to demons, 
whom he does not describe as bad indiscriminately, but divides into the good and 
the evil, calodemones and cacodemones. 

44 As Williams (Speculum, VI, 408-410) has already pointed out. 

45 Holmberg, p. 73. 

46 Holmberg, pp. 11-12. Cf. Seneca, De Benefictis, VII, i, 5-6. 


(ISAIAH 66) 


University of Leiden 

The Synagogue in Leiden is a small and unpretentious building 
situated on the Levendaal, a modest canal near the more famous 
Rapenburg. At its entrance, there is an inscription hi Hebrew 
characters, a quotation from Isaiah 66: 23, "All flesh shall come to 
worship before me says the Lord." 

The universal bearing of these words presents a remarkable con- 
trast with the quiet and unpretentious position of the Jews, who 
assemble in this house on the Sabbath and holy days. Not one of 
them has ever tried to persuade his co-citizens to join the Jewish 
congregation and worship before the Lord hi that Place. As far 
as I know, no Jew ever does so, no matter in what city, country or 
condition he may live. There is a Christian Mission to Jews, but 
I have never heard of a Jewish Mission to Christians and the con- 
trast is the more startling in view of the inscription. For present- 
day Judaism it is just a verse from the O. T., suitable for the 
decoration of a Synagogue, as the first part of Is. 66: 23 mentions 
the New moon and Sabbath as days of worship. But it must 
once have been a word of living hope and strong faith hi a great 
future for the worshippers of the Lord of Israel. 

Is. 66: 23 is not the only place hi the second part of the book of 
Isaiah, which refers to a great future for the religion of Israel. 
Critical attempts to dissect Is. 40-66 into separate parts have not 
been favorable to the exegesis, nor to a proper valuation of the 
importance of the religious opinions expressed in nearly every 
chapter of these prophecies. They were supposed to state that the 
Jews, scattered among the nations, could proclaim the true religion, 
the religion of their fathers and of the pious servants of Jahu. It 
has remained unobserved that the universalistic tendency of these 
chapters involved a complete break with the past, and a desire to 
abolish earlier belief and forms of cultus. Priests and prophets of 



the pre-exilic period were convinced that Israel was the people, 
elected by God (Hos. 11:1, Amos 3:2, Exod. 19:5). The name 
of his people will not be blotted out among the nations (2 Kings 
14:27, Gen. 28: 15, Deut. 26: 19). The throne of David will be 
established for ever (2 Sam. 7: 16). The Messiah, son of David, 
will sometime rule in righteousness and glory. 

From this traditional religious standpoint the message of Is. 45 : 1 
is rank revolution. "Thus saith the Lord to his Messiah, to Cyrus, 
whose right hand I have holden to subdue nations before him." 
Here a Gentile, who is not even a son of Shem, is proclaimed to be 
the Anointed of Jahu, the Messiah. He shall build the city of 
Jahu (45: 13). By him Israel shall be saved by the Lord with an 
everlasting salvation (45:17). The prophecy calls this a "new 
thing" that hitherto has not been announced (41: 26, 43: 19). It 
proclaims that Jahu "has raised up one from the North and he is 
come, from the rising of the sun one that calleth upon my name. 
He shall come upon rulers as upon mortar and as the potter treadeth 
clay" (41:25). Now Israel must sing a "new song" unto the 
Lord (42:10). 

But Israel evidently refused to do so. It could not at once give 
up the old and dear convictions and mistrust the message of all 
its earlier prophets. Is. 45:9, 10 meets this difficulty. It refers 
to what has happened and asserts that Israel is not free to criticize 
the way of salvation, chosen by the Lord. "Woe unto him that 
striveth with his maker. Shall the clay say to him that f ashioneth 
it: what maketh thou? Shall you command me concerning my 
sons and concerning the work of my hands." "I have raised him 
(Cyrus) up in righteousness, I will make straight all his ways, he 
shall build my city, he shall let my exiles free, not for price nor 
reward, saith the Lord (45: 13). 

The lack of confidence in these prophecies, shown by the people, 
did not diminish the fervor of hope expressed in them. The two 
last chapters of the collection are particularly clear in describing 
the difference between the past and the future. The present situa- 
tion will soon be forgotten and no longer mentioned, for the Lord 
will create a new heaven and a new earth (65: 17). The future 
Jerusalem will be a city full of unbroken happiness. The break 
with the past is most evident from the assertion that the name of 
the people will be changed. It will not any more be called Jacob 


or Israel. That will be a name for a curse. The Lord shall call 
his servants "by another name." Even the name of the Lord 
himself will not be the same as hi the old days. His name will be 
Amen (the trustworthy one). "He who blesseth himself shall bless 
himself hi the name of Elohe Amen" (65: 15). It is a well known 
fact that for ancient oriental thought, the name was not simply an 
appellative; it was a revelation of the nature of the person or thing 
named, almost an equivalent of the thing itself. This was espe- 
cially true of names of God (Enc. Bib, 3320). To be called by a 
new name meant to break with the past and the present hi the 
most radical way. 

The new religious community will be a totally new one, existing 
under new conditions. As there exists only one God, who is the 
first and the last (48: 17), the creator of earth and man (45: 12), 
this God is also the King of Israel and his redeemer (44: 6). So 
in the new religion the people will serve the same Lord as then' 
fathers, but not all the rites of the old religion will be tolerated. 
The sacrifice of oxen and sheep will henceforth be forbidden. We 
learn this from Is. 66:3. There will be a temple and priests in 
Jerusalem (66:20) which will be a centre for the Jews living in 
all countries. They will travel great distances to bring a mincha 
to Jahu hi a clean vessel, hi the same way as the sons of Israel who 
bring their mincha hi a clean vessel into the house of the Lord. 
Mincha means an oblation of flour or cakes, but can also refer to a 
gift of any kind to man or God. As the sons of Israel, living hi 
Jerusalem and Juda, bring then* gifts into the temple hi a clean 
vessel, in the same manner as the pilgrims do, Is. 66: 20 evidently 
presupposes that animals will no longer be sacrificed hi the temple, 
for sacrificial animals cannot be brought "in a clean vessel." 

The sacrifice of animals was a thorn in the otherwise mutually 
agreeable relations between the conquering Persians and the Jews. 
Cyrus and the Akhemenides worshipped Ahuramazda and objected 
especially to the killing of cows and bulls. Probably they dis- 
covered hi the exiled Jews a religious belief of the same kind as their 
own, for these Jews could not sacrifice without then- temple, now 
lying in ruins hi a distant land. They met for common prayer hi 
synagogues and had many teachers who discussed the older prophets 
and these features of exilic Judaism met the approval of the new 
rulers, who had conspicuously protected the Jews. Cyrus per- 


mitted them to return to Palestine. Darius Hystaspes paid, in the 
end, the costs of the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem when 
the Jews were unwilling, or unable to procure the necessary funds. 
Kambyses, ravaging Egypt, demolished the temples of the Egyp- 
tians, but left untouched the sanctuary of Jahu hi Jeb (Elefantine). 
The custom of sacrifice appears nevertheless to have been a weak 

In such a conflict two ways could be followed. The "new reli- 
gion" could yield to the objections of the dominating Persians, or 
the Persian rulers could be tolerant and overlook those particular 
forms of worship which gave offense to them. We find an instance 
of the second solution hi the correspondence between the priests 
of the sanctuary of Jahu at Jeb and the Persian governor Bagohi 
(408 B.C.). The priests at Jeb desired permission to rebuild their 
temple, destroyed by hostile Egyptian priests, hi order to bring 
oblations (mincha), incense and burnt offerings to Jahu. Bagohi 
did not answer by letter but sent a messenger telling them that 
they had permission to rebuild and offer oblations (mincha) and 
incense on the altar, as they used to do, but it is obvious that he 
deliberately passed over the question of burnt offerings, in the 
interests of discretion. 

The prophecy, Is. 66, is an instance of the first solution. It 
objects to the sacrifice of oxen and sheep. In 66:3 the killing of 
an ox is compared to murdering a man, "He that killeth an ox is 
as he that slayeth a man" and this statement is followed by the 
words "he that sacrifices a lamb is as he that breaketh a dog's 
neck." These last words are a proof of the great influence of Per- 
sian opinions on Is. 66. They have naturally puzzled the com- 
mentators who could not understand their meaning. The assump- 
tion that the killing of an ox and manslaughter were put on the 
same level appears impossible, and the comparison of the killing of 
an unclean and despised animal, a dog, with the perfectly lawful 
action of sacrificing a lamb seemed equally strange. Hidden ref- 
erence to a heathen cult, to human sacrifices and to dog sacrifices 
have been assumed and "to slay" has been interpreted as "to sacri- 
fice." This is, however, incorrect. The Hebrew verb nkh, "to 
slay," never means "to sacrifice." Appeal has been made to 
Robertson Smith,. who mentions dogs hi the chapter "Sacrifices" 
in The Religion of the Semites, but Robertson Smith founded his 
conviction about the existence of a dog-sacrifice on this very pass- 


age, and the commentators of Isaiah 66 have hi turn based their 
opinion on Robertson Smith. He tried hi vain to discover other 
instances of the sacrifice of dogs in antiquity (Cf. Religion of the 
Semites, 1st ed., p. 273) and he says "it seems to be alluded to as a 
Punic rite in Justin xviii. 1. 10, where we read that Darius sent a 
message to the Carthaginians forbidding them to sacrifice human 
victims and to eat the flesh of dogs." For Robertson Smith, to 
eat flesh was always connected with sacrifice, but we know now 
that his theory, hi spite of some elements of truth, is not confirmed 
by the O. T. sacrificial code (Deut. 12: 15). He admits that the 
eating of camel's flesh by the Arabs was no longer associated with 
a formal act of sacrifice (ibid., p. 265), and in the other passages 
mentioned by him the dog is usually regarded as a kind of sacred 
animal. This was also the opinion of the Persians. We see from 
the 13th, 14th and 15th Fargards of the Vendid&d, that the dogs 
(and those animals that were reckoned to be dogs, like the beaver 
and the hedge-hog) were rigorously protected against evil treat- 
ment. The house-dog and the shepherd-dog were especially favored 
animals. "To give bad food to a dog is as objectionable as to give 
bad food to a prominent man." He who kills a shepherd-dog or 
a house-dog is .punished with eight hundred strokes with the 
Ashapa-Astra and with eight hundred strokes with the Sroosha- 
karana (these are an unknown kind of whip). He who gives to a 
house-dog or shepherd-dog hot food or hard bones will be punished 
with two hundred strokes. In Fargard 15, this offense is placed 
on the same level with promulgating evil doctrines. He who beats 
or chases a bitch is punished with two hundred strokes. We 
understand that to break a dog's neck was for the Persian rulers 
as great an injury as manslaughter. 

The cow is also protected. Even now, the Hindus regard it as 
a sacred animal and to eat the meat of a cow or bull is a great sin. 
Nothing can be compared to the stale of a cow for purification. 
The Vendid&d enables us to understand Is. 66:3. To object to 
the killing of oxen and to the slaughter of sheep implies opposition 
against the daily sacrifices hi the temple. The new religion of Is. 66 
will be a cult without sacrifices. 

The great expectations of this prophecy were, however, not ful- 
filled. The leading men of the Jews went in a direction quite 
opposite to the universalistic hope expressed in these chapters. 
They did not join this author (or another) in an endeavor to make 


a fresh start along new lines. All they did was to try and make 
themselves agreeable to the Persian court by avoiding the name of 
Jahu and by speaking of then* God as the God of Heaven (Ezra 
5: 11, 12). They were afraid of involving the elect people of the 
Lord with other nations, and so initiated a process of separation. 
The movement of Ezra and Nehemiah is in direct opposition to any 
opening of the doors to strangers by a reformation of the old cultus 
regulations of Israel. And they succeeded. Their application of 
old prescriptions separated the Jews from other people, and forced 
them to live together in separate quarters in the various towns of 
the Diaspora; the result was the Ghetto. 

The great chapters hi the book of Isaiah have no contemporary 
significance for Judaism. They are a useful source for inscriptions 
that have no religious influence on the religious opinions of the 
people, who enter the door and pass under the Hebrew letters at 
the entrance. We cannot blame them. Does not the London 
Exchange bear the inscription, "The earth is the Lord's and the 
fulness thereof?" 



UniversMt Berlin 

Am Ende des 6. Jahrzehnts des 3. Jahrhimderts beschaftigte den 
alexandrinischen Bischof Dionys eine bedeutsame theologische Aus- 
einandersetzung mit Klerikern aus den Gemeinden der Pentapolis. 
Die Fiihrer dieser Kirchen batten an der origenistischen Theologie 
einer Reihe ihrer Amtsgenossen schweren Anstoss genommen. 
Daraus entspann sich ein Konflikt, der keineswegs auf die Penta- 
polis beschrankt blieb, sondern dadurch, dass der alexandrinische 
Bischof sich ins Mittel legte, wiederum eine Appellation der Libyer 
nach Rom zur Folge hatte. Leider sind aus diesem dogmatischen 
kirchlichen Streit, der sich zu einem grosseren innerkirchlichen 
Konflikt auswuchs, nur Bruchstucke einer spateren Verteidigungs- 
schrift des Dionys und das Fragment ernes Lehrbriefes des romi- 
schen Bischofs Dionys iiberliefert. Daher ist es nicht leicht, die 
zeitliche Folge fur die Einzelheiten des Streites zu bestimmen und 
seine eigentlichen Zusammenhange zu ergriinden. Dieser Kon- 
flikt des Dionys mit den Libyern hat wahrend der grossen kirch- 
lichen Kampfe im 4. Jahrhundert einige Bedeutung erlangt. Die 
origenistischen Bischofe des Ostens suchten die radikalen Vertreter 
eines wortlichen Verstandnisses der Nicaenischen Formel, insbeson- 
dere das von Athanasius und seinen Freunden befurwortete starre 
Festhalten an dem Wort d/ioofrrtos dadurch zu diskreditieren, dass 
sie darauf hinwiesen, Dionys von Alexandrien, also ein Vorganger 
des Athanasius, habe das 6/wo6<nos abgelehnt. 1 

Athanasius allein hat uns grossere Bruchstucke aus dieser Fehde 
des Alexandriners mit den Libyern in seiner Schrift "De sententia 
Dionysii" iiberliefert, in der sich Athanasius mit den Argumenten 
seiner Gegner auseinandersetzt und den Nachweis versucht, dass 
Dionys vielmehr ein Kronzeuge fur seine Theologie sei. Etwa 40 
Jahre vor Athanasius hatte Euseb von Casarea in sehier IQrchen- 

1 Viel schlagender war die Argumentation mit dem Synodalurteil von 268 
gegen Paul von Samosata vgl. dazu Loofs, P. v. S. S. 146 ff. 



geschichte nur ganz oberflachlich die Angelegenheit beruhrt, und 
jedenfalls nicht ohne Absicht nur mit wenigen Worten den Streit 
erwahnt, da ihm die auf Grund der Akten nicht wegzuleugende 
Zurechtweisung des beriihmten Dionys, des glanzendesten Ver- 
treters der origenistischen Theologie, nicht sehr gelegen war. Viel 
ausfuhrlicher behandelt Euseb dagegen den Triumph der Ori- 
genisten gegeniiber Paul von Samosata. Euseb zitiert nur kurz 
aus einem Schreiben des Dionys von Alexandrien an Papst Xystus 
II. (VII 6, S. 642, 3-11 Schwartz) folgendes: irepl yap TOV vvv KWIJ- 
Qtvros iv Tfl IlToXejuaiSt, Trjs HevT<nr6\eus dbynaros, &VTOS affcfiovs fcai 
ft\aff<f>rjp,Lav xoXXi)? ircpt4xovTos irepl TOV iravTOKp&Topos Oeov iraTpos TOV 
Kvpiov JIPUV 'lijffov XpioroB dirioTlav re iroXMiv {-XOJTOS irepl TOV yuovoytvovs 
iraiS&s a#rov, TOV TrpurorhKov Trdo^s KTivcus, TOV tvavdpuirri<ravTos \6yov, 
&vaur8rjffLa.v 8k TOV ayiov TJ'c^oros, &d6vT<av tKaTtpudw irpbs fyt nal irpo- 
ypo.tHib.Twv Kal TUV oidKci-ontiHav &de\<j>uv, ^Tr^o-reiXA TWO., cJ)s ^8vvf]6rjv f 
TOV 6eov, SioaffKakiK&TCpov v^yov^vos, &v rd &vTlypo.<pa 

Und VII 26, 1 teilt Euseb lakonisch mit (S. 700, 13-18): M 
TO.VTO.IS TOV Aiovvaiov ^povrai Kal aXXat TrXeious iiriffTO\ai, &<nrep at 
Kard SajSeXXiou Trpds "Aju/zcoi'a TIJS KO.TO, Bepvinriv tKK\ij<rias tiriaKOirov Kal 
% Trpos T\fff<f)6pov Kal 1) Trpds Ev<f>pavopa Kal ira\i.v "A/i/icova Kai Eviropov 
avvTarrei 8k irepl rfjs airrijs virod&fus Kal 6XXa T&ffapa avyypannaTa, a 
r<3 Kara 'PdjjUT;^ byMvvy^ Aiovvcrioo Trpoff<f>uvei. a 

An beiden Stellen bezeichnet Euseb die Gegner des Dionys als 
Sabellianer. Der Name des Sabellius begegnet aber hi der ganzen 
Kkchengeschichte nur an dieser Stelle. 3 Euseb kannte Sabellius 
ebensowenig genauer wie die spatere Ueberlieferung, die diesen 
Namen als sehr bequemes Mittel anwendet, um die nicht origeni- 
stische Theologie als Ketzerei zu brandmarken. 4 Fiir das Verstand- 

2 Schon in de decretis fuhrt er die beiden Dionyse neben Origenes und Theognost 
als Zeugen fur seine Theologie an, wahrend er in de synodis 43 ff. den Streit der 
Dionyse im Zusammenhang mit der Synode von 268 erwahnt. 

8 Euseb bezeichnet Praep. evang. VII 18 den tf E\e7x$ des Dionys von Alexan- 
drien als rd ?rp6s So^XXioj' yeyvnvaffntva. Ebenso Basilius de spiritu sancto 29, 
72 (III 60 E Garnier) : . . . etpjjKe irpbs TOVS SofSeXXtaj/ofe. Ich nehme daher an, 
dass Dionys das ihm von dem romischen Dionys gegebene Stichwort (s. unten S. # ) 
aufgenommen, und die Libyer als Anhanger des hi Rom verurteilten Sabellius 
verdachtigt hat. So mag Euseb auch aus den Briefen des Dionys den Namen des 
Sabellius entnommen haben. 

4 Schwartz, Sitzber. der Bayer. Akad. phiL-hist. Kl. 1936 H. 3 S. 29 A. 1. Euseb 
hat Sabellius gegen Marcell recht kraftig ausgespielt. 


nis der Theologie der Libyer gibt der Name des Sabellius also gar 
keinen Aufschluss. Dass Athanasius nun gleichfalls die Libyer 
Sabellianer nennt (de sent. 5, 1 S. 49, 15 Berliner Ausgabe; 
13, 1 S. 55, 12; 14, 1 S. 56, 25), erklart sich im Zusammenhang mit 
der theologischen Diskussion seiner Zeit. C. 27, 1 S. 66, 15 ff. ist 
es mit Handen zu greifen, dass Athanasius sich gegen die Arianer 
und Photinianer mit Hilfe des Dionys distanziert. Mit Sabellius 
ist Photin bzw. Marcell gemeint. 

Dionys sprieht an der oben ausgeschriebenen Stelle von zwei sich 
bekampfenden Parteien, die schriftliche Erklarungen an ihn schick- 
ten und sein Urteil einholten. 6 Athanasius gibt die Vorgeschichte 
des Streites so wieder (c. 5 S. 49, 14 ff.) : Dionys habe sich gegen 
den "Sabellianismus" hi den Gemeinden der Pentapolis gewandt, 
die unter seiner Obhut (plpi/iva) standen und c. 13, (S. 55, 10) 
heisst es dann: Dionys habe gegen die "Sabellianer" geschrieben, 
darauf hatten die Libyer, ohne ihn nochmals zu fragen, wie sein 
Schreiben zu verstehen sei, sich nach Horn gewandt und ihn dort 
bei Dionys verklagt. 6 Die Ausbeute fur die Geschichte dieses aller- 
dings lokal beschrankten dogmatischen Streites ist bei Euseb und 
Athanasius diirftig genug. Beide wollten nicht mehr berichten als 
es fur ihre Zwecke notwendig war. Euseb lag nur daran, die 
Regesten der wichtigsten Briefe des Dionys zu bieten, und Athana- 
sius kommt auf die politische Geschichte des Streites nur soweit 

6 Dionys von Rom sprieht in seinem Brief an die Libyer auch von zwei Parteien 
in der Pentapolis (Athanasius, de deer. nic. 26, 2 S. 22, 2 ff.). 

8 TU>$ T&V &ir6 rrjs eK/c\7?cr(as &Se\<f>wv <f>povovvres n& bpO&s, jui) Ipcor^aaf res 
81 a&rbv, tva trap' atorov n&6uffi TTWJ lypcuf/ev, toifrdov irp&s rty 'Pci/H/v Kal KO.T- 
(ipriKaffiv avrov irapd ?$ i/ncovu^v aiirou Atovucrlcp T$ tirurnbirq TW^TJS. Die 
antiochenische Ueberlieferung hat mit Cod. WV (s. meine Untersuchungen S. 
190 ff .) : nil <j>povovvres 6p6us n^i ipwf}ffa.vr& afoov. Die Lesart ist f alsch ; denn man 
anderte, well man die Libyer insgesamt als Sabellianer ansah. Das sagt aber 
Athanasius gerade an dieser Stelle nicht. Das Gutachten des Dionys und sein 
Brief an Euphranor und Ammon befriedigten die Parteien nicht, daher wandte 
man sich nach Rom zwecks Herbeifuhrung einer schiedsrichterlichen Entschei- 
dung, ohne nochmals die Meinung des Dionys von Alexandrien zu erkunden. Das 
bemangelt ja Athanasius gerade. Wenn es nun in WV so klingt, dass durch die 
Appellation nach Rom die Libyer als ^ ^povouvres 6p0ws erscheinen, so ist damit 
ein dogmatisches Urteil in den Text des Athanasius hineingetragen, das von diesem 
nicht beabsichtigt war. Denn das weiss Athanasius auch, dass in den Stadium 
des Streites, als man sich nach Rom wandte, sich nicht bloss um die Sabellianer 
handelte, sondern auch um die origenistischen Freunde des Dionys; die wies 
tatsachlich Dionys yon Rom nun sehr scharf ab. 


zu sprechen, als es fiir das von ihm beabsichtigte Verstandnis der 
Fragmente erforderlich 1st. Nach diesen beiden einzigen Quellen 
stellt sich die Abfolge des Streites so dar: 7 

1) Die streiten den Parteien in der Pentapolis (Dionys sagt: in 
Ptolemais) wenden sich an Dionys. Dieser teilt ihnen eine beleh- 
rende Antwort (Euseb VII 6 S. 642, 8ff.). 

2) Dionys macht dem romischen Bischof Xystus II Mitteilung 
von dem vorhandenen dogmatischen Konflikt und schickt ihm 
gleichzeitig die den Libyern erteilte Antwort (s. an gleichem Ort 
wie nr. 1). Das muss vor dem 6. August 258, dem Todestag des 
Xystus, geschehen sein. Man wird den terminus ante noch weiter 
heraufriicken diirfen; denn Dionys von Alexandrien wurde selbst 
schon im Jahre 258 durch den Prafekten Aemilian verbannt; die 
naheren Umstande des Verhors hat Dionys geschildert. Aemilian 
ist fiir 258 und 259 als Prafekt bezeugt (P. Oxyr. 1201: 24. 9. 258, 
und P. Oxyr. 110 : Sept. - Okt. 259). Man wird den Brief des Dionys 
an Xystus, der ja vor allem einen Friedenvorschlag fiir den Streit 
um die Ketzertaufe zwischen Rom und Afrika enthielt, vielleicht 
schon in das Jahr 257 setzen diirfen. Xystus war seit dem 14. 
September 256 Papst (so Lietzmann, Petrus und Paulus 2 S. 13.) 

3) Wahrend der Verfolgung oder doch, soweit man nr. 2 hinauf- 
datieren will, kurz vor ihr muss die Korrespondenz angesetzt werden, 
von der Euseb oben S. 42 berichtet, also die Briefe an Ammon von 
Berenike, an Telesphoros, an Euphranor, Ammon und Euporos. 8 
Von dem Briefe an Telesphoros hat sich nichts erhalten, ebenso- 
wenig kennt man etwas iiber seine Personlichkeit. Ammon von 
Berenike und Euphranor werden von Athanasius als die Adressaten 
des Briefes des Dionys genannt, der dann die Appellation an Papst 
Dionys von Rom und die Auseinandersetzung der beiden Dionyse 
zur Folge hatte. Unten wird auf diesen Brief noch einzugehen 

7 Karl Miiller hat in der Zeitschr. f . neutest. Wiss. 24 (1925) 278 ff . die Reihen- 
folge des Briefwechsels des Dionys von Alexandrien rekonstruiert. Ich glaube 
von ihm in einigen Punkten abweichen zu miissen. Fiir die Einzelheiten der 
Interpretation der Fragmente des Dionys sei auf meine Noten zu de sententia 

8 Die bei Athanasius erwahnten &XXeu kviaroKo-l sind keine gesonderte Korre- 
spondenz, in denen er "sein Anschauung von Sohne klarer und besser auszusprechen 
beabsichtigt" (so Miiller). C. 4, 3 (S. 48, 24) ist ganz unbestimmt, Athanasius 
kann auch den ^ey\os meinen, ebenso 6, 1 (S. 50, 2); 9, 2 (52, 5); 10, (53, 6); 
12, 1 (54, 21); 13, 1 (S. 55, 10), an dieser Stelle sind die fiXXot iirurrokaL iiber- 
haupt dem strittigen Brief an Euphranor und Ammon vorangegangen. 


sein. Jedenfalls prazisierte Dionys von Alexandrien in dem Brief 
an Ammon und Euphranor sehr scharf seine origenistische Theologie 
im Gegensatz zu den Libyern. Dadureh sahen sich die Libyer 
veranlasst, den romischen Bischof um seine Entscheidung zu bitten. 

4) Brief des Dionys von Rom an die Libyer; Fragment erhalten 
bei Athanasius de deer. nic. 26 S. 22, 1 ff. Dieses Schreiben ist eine 
offizielle Antwort. Es wird in ihm der Konflikt zwischen zwei 
Parteien vorausgesetzt, wenngleich Dionys sich in dem erhaltenen 
Fragment nur gegen die bvaipovvres r6 ffenvdrarov K^pvyna rrjs 
tKK\i]ffias TOV deoVf rty fj,ovapxio-v, ds rpeis Sw&juets rwas Kal juejueprju&as 
inroffTaffeu Kal 0e6rj;ras rpeTs wendet. Er habe von dem Vorhanden- 
sein solcher Lehrer erfahren, ol Kara di&nerpov, cos tiros e'nrelv, frvrincivTai, 
T0 SajSeXXww yv&fjLri. Nun fallt also von romischer Seite der Ketzer- 
name des Sabellius, gleichsam um den Streit in die romische 
Ketzerkategorien zu iibertragen. Andererseits werden die Ori- 
genisten durch Marcion diskreditiert (S. 22, 12). 9 

5) Dionys von Rom schreibt an Dionys von Alexandrien, Atha- 
nasius de sent. 13, 2 (S. 55, 19). De synodis 43 (I 757 F Mont- 
faucon) weiss Athanasius sogar von einer romischen Synode, in 
deren Auftrag der Papst an Dionys geschrieben habe. Von nr. 5 
ist nichts erhalten. 

6) Dionys von Alexandrien 2\7xos Kal diroXo7ia an Dionys von 
Rom als Antwort auf nr. 5. Athanasius de sent. 13, 3 (S. 55, 20), 
ebenso de synodis 43, und Euseb kennen die 4 Biicher umfassende 
Schrift; Euseb in der Praeparatio, Athanasius und auch Basilius 
haben eine grossere Anzahl von Fragmenten erhalten, s. Feltoe 
S. 182 ff. 

Die Zeitbestimmung fiir die Anrufung des Papstes und die dann 
folgende Korrespondenz nr. 4-6 ist nicht leicht zu finden. Bisher 
sind teils nur blosse Vermutugnen geaussert, teils ist diese Frage 
iiberhaupt nicht wie von Karl Miiller gestellt worden. Als das 

Wenn Athanasius das Fragment mit den Worten einleitet (S. 21, 31 ff.): 
6 TTJS Tci/iijs tirlffKoiros AioviHTios yp&fav Kara T&V TO. Sa/3eXX(ou <j>povo\)VT<av 
erxeTXi&fet Kararuv raDra roXjucOvnoj' \kyciv, so ist das eine unbegreifliche Verdre- 
hung, da das Fragment gegen die Arianer angefiihrt wird. Tatsachlich richtet 
sich Dionys ausser einem kurzen Hinweis auf die /3\oo-^jttta des Sabellius aus- 
schliesslich gegen die These von den rpetj deol, also gegen die Origenisten. In de 
sent. 13, 2 (S. 55, 14) sagt Athanasius richtig, dass sich Dionys gegen die Sabel- 
lianer und die "Arianer" gewandt habe. 


einzig ganz sichere Datum steht der Martyertod des Papstes Xystus 
am 6. August 258 fest. Kurz vor diesem Datum und welter da- 
nach hat sich der Streit abgespielt. Die erhaltenen Fragmente von 
4 und 6 geben nur an einer einzigen Stelle 10 im 1. Buche des gXe^xos 
einen Anhalt fiir die Datierung. Dionys schreibt hier an den 
Romer: nai -rty tirurToMiv, <is irpoetTrov, 8ia rds 7repiord<ms oi>n ?xw 
TrpoKop.iffa.1' d 8' ovv, avrb <roi rd r6re prjuara, juaXXcw 8k Kal Tr&ffijs &v 
{Treju^a r6 &vTiypa<f>ov 6irep efaropijcrco, iroii^aw (de sent. 18, 3 S. 59, 
13-15). Dionys kann wegen der Trepiorderets den umstrittenen Brief 
an Ammon und Euphranor nicht als Zeugnis beilegen. Unter den 
irfpiffT&ffcts kann nur die valerianische Verf olgung verstanden wer- 
den, wahrend der Dionys in Kephro und Kolluthion lebte. Durch 
seine Abwesenheit von der Stadt war er verhindert, die Akten des 
Streites zu zitieren bzw. nach Rom zu senden. Man darf die 
jrfpiffT&fftis nicht auf schwierige Umstande des Dionys und der 
alexandrinischen Gemeinde in der Zeit von Ende 260 bis Anfang 
262, also nach dem Edikt des Gallien, beziehen, da Dionys nach 
Ausweis der Fragmente seiner Briefe wohl schon Ende 260 wieder 
in Alexandrien war. Euseb sagt namlich (VII 21, 1 S. 674, 17): 
tm\apotoffi)s 8k foov ofau rijcr eip^o- (namlich durch das Edikt Gallien 
VII 13 S. 666, 14 ff.) &rdm<n pfr ^is T^V 'AXegdj/Specaj/. Darauf 
wiitete wieder ein Aufstand und Krieg in der Stadt, der jeglichen 
Verkehr der Gemeinden in der Stadt hinderte. Dionys war aber 
in der Lage, den gewohnten Osterfestbrief fiir 261 zu schreiben und 
zu versenden. Dieser Aufstand wurde durch die Usurpation des 
Macrian nach der Gefangennahme Kaiser Valerians durch den sas- 
sanidischen Perserkonig verursacht. Die Chronologic dafiir lasst 
sich durch die Papyri und die Miinzen einigermassen genau festlegen. 
Das 1. Jahr des Valerian und Gallien beginnt mit dem 1. Thoth 
253." Es gibt Miinzen fiir das 8. Jahr Valerians und Galliens 
zusammen ( = 260/1), sowie solche fiir das 8. Jahre Galliens allein. 12 
Also muss Valerian gegen Ende des Sommers 260 gefangen genom- 
men worden sein. Das erste Datum nun fiir Macrian ist durch 
Pap. Flor. 273, 26 fiir das 1. Jahr Macrians zum 1. Thoth = 
29. 8. 260 iiberliefert. Und Pap. Oxyr. 1476 bezeugt fiir den 2. 
Phaophi = 29. 9. 260 das 1. Jahr Macrians. Also in Herbst 260 

10 jj ur Peltoe zu S. 189, 8 wies kurz darauf hin. 

11 Vgl. die abschliessenden Untersuchung von Stein, Archiv f . Papyrusforschung 

12 Vogt, Alexandrinische Munzen S. 204. 


war das Ausscheiden Valerians bekannt imd zur gleichen Zeit hatte 
sich Macrian in Aegypten durchgesetzt. Macrian kann sich aber 
nur bis in das Friihjahr 261 gehalten haben. Denn die alexandri- 
nischen Miinzen gibt es nur fiir das 1. Jahr Macrians. Das letzte 
durch die Papyri bezeugte Datum lautet vom 10. Phamenoth 261 
( = 6. 3. 261). 18 Zwar gibt es noch in Pap. Strassburg 6 eine Rech- 
nung vom 3. Athyr im 2. Jahre Macrians ( = 30. 10. 261), aber 
diese Rechnung ist nur ein vereinzelter nicht ins Gewicht fallender 
Nachziigler. In dem kleinen Ort war eben die Alleinherrschaft des 
Gallien noch nicht bekannt. Die Schwierigkeiten wahrend es 
Jahres 261 sind Alexandrien und Aegypten recht grosse gewesen. 
Zu den politischen Unruhen gesellte sich die Pest, von der Dionys 
berichtet (Osterschreiben zu 262: Euseb VII 22, 2-10 S. 678, 22 ff.) 
Dennoch muss En$e 261, spatestens zur Wende des Jahres 261 zu 
262 wieder Ruhe eingetreten sein; davon zeugt der Brief des Dionys 
an Hermammonn, der nun gahz genau S. 684, 17 ff. zufolge als ein 
Schreiben zum Osterfest 262 datiert werden kann. 14 In diesem 
Brief ktindet Dionys eindringlich das Lob Galliens, der den Frieden 
eingeleitet hat; und nun nach Vernichtung des Macrian, des eigent- 
lichen Urheber der Verfolgung, des Verrater Valerians, des Usur- 
pators gegen Gallien, ist Gallien der alte und neue Kaiser zugleich. 
Die kleine Wolke Macrian ist verscheucht und das Reich bluht 
nunmehr kraftiger als je und breitet sich iiberallhin aus. Macrian 
ist der eigentliche Verfolger der Christen, denn Valerians Hof war 
voller Christen, ja eine Gemeinde Gottes; nur durch Macrian, den 
Beschiitzer der Magier, wurde Valerian zu dem Kriege gegen die 
Christen gedrangt. Diese iiberraschende Verlautbarung des alex- 
andrinischen Bischofs bedarf einer Erklarung. Denn dieses Urteil 
iiber die Dynastie Valerians, der doch fiir die Verfolgung verant- 
wortlich war, beriicksichtigt garnicht die grossen Leiden der Chris- 
ten wahrend der Verfolgung. Der Inhalt des Osterschreibens klingt 
wie der Dank an den Henker. Man kann daher diese Propaganda 
fiir das Kaiserhaus nur im Zusammenhang mit dem Edikt Galliens 
verstehen. In dem bei Euseb erhaltenen Edikt oder richtiger hi 
dem Brief Galliens an Dionys und andere aegyptische Bischofe teilt 
der Kaiser diesen mit, er habe verfiigt, dass die Kultstatten den 
Christen freizugeben seien; des Reskriptes bedienen die Bischofe 

13 Mitteis, Griech. Urkunden d. Papyrusammhing zu Leipzig I nr. 57, 35 ff. 
"VIII 1 (636, 10-16); 10, 2-9 (648, 25-652, 25); 23, 1-4 (684, 1-20). 


solten sich, sodass niemand sie belastige. Die Durehfuhrung des 
Reskriptes liege dem Praefectus summae rei Aurelius Kyrinos ob. 
Der eigentliche Anlass fur die Sistierung der Verfolgung wird nicht 
genannt. Man darf ihn in den grossen politischen Schwierigkeiten 
suchen, in die Gallien durch die Gefangennahme seines Vaters 
geriet; und die Usurpation des Macrian machte ihm in Aegypten 
besonders zu schaffen. Um alle unnotigen Belastungen des Prestiges 
des Kaiserhauses zu beseitigen, verfiigte er die Freigabe der Kult- 
statten und der Koimeterien. An Dionys, den alexandrinischen 
Bischof, schrieb Gallien besonders, um sich dessen grossen Ein- 
flusses bei den Christen zu sichern, und inn sich damit zu verp- 
flichten. Wie richtig Gallien gerechnet hatte, ergibt der grosse 
Festbrief von 262 an Hermammon, in dem nun die valerianische 
Dynastie mit hochsten Glanze umgeben wird, und Macrian auch 
der damnatio memoriae bei den Christen verfaflt. 

Fiir die Chronologic der Briefe des Dionys sind aber diese Zusam- 
menhange insofern wichtig, als man nun die Riickkehr des Dionys 
spatestens Ende 260 ansetzen muss. 16 Der gXe-yxos ist also auf 

16 Die iibigen Briefe Dionys' aus den Jahren 259-262 verteilen sich so: a) Der 
Brief an Germanos: Euseb VII US. 654, 7-660, 28. Aemilian ist nach S. 660, 25 
Praefekt, also ist der Brief spatestens 259 geschrieben, vielleicht sogar als Oster- 
brief zu 259.b) Brief an die Alexandriner VII 20, 1 S. 674, 14, nur kurze Angabe 
des Briefes, also ist ein sicheres Datum nicht zu entscheiden, vielleicht aus der 
Verbannung. c) Brief an Hierax, VII 21, 2-10 S. 674, 26-678, 18, kurz nach der 
Riickkehr aus der Verbannung mit Schilderung des Aufstandes des Macrian. 
d) Brief an die dSeX^ol VII 22, 2-10 S. 678, 22-682, 17, nach der Pest, vielleicht 
261, jedenfalls nach dem Auf stand des Macrian vgl. 680, 9.e) Brief an Her- 
mammon, 262 s. oben S. Den Krieg gegen Aemilian finde ich in den Brief- 
fragmenten nicht erwahnt. Denn die Schilderung des Aufstandes in dem Brief 
an Hierax kann sich nach Ausweis der Papyri und Miinzen nur auf Macrian 
beziehen. Ueberdies wird die Usurpation des Aemilian nur durch Trebellius 
Pollios Vita der 30 Tyrannen und in der Gallienvita c. 4 bezeugt. Miinzen Aemilians 
gibt es nicht, s. Vogt, Alexandrinische Miinzen S. 207, der aber Unregelmassig- 
keiten der Miinzdatierungen des 9. Jahres Galliens auf Storungen in Aegypten 
zuriickfuhren will. Ich habe Bedenken, die durch Aemilian verursachte Hungers- 
not in den Stadten (Vita Gallieni 4, 1) mit der von Dionys (S. 680, 9; 678, 5) 
bezeugten Unterbrechung der Annonenlieferung, die eine Hungersnot zur Folge 
hatte, in Zusammenhang zu bringen. Bei jedem der damaligen Biirgerkriege 
werden sich solche Schwierigkeiten eingestellt haben. Also man schliesst am 
besten die diirftig bezeugte Usurpation des Aemilian aus der Betrachtung aus, 


jeden Fall aus der Verbanmmg geschrieben, mithin spatestens Som- 
mer 260. Die Appellation der Libyer muss dann unter Bertick- 
sichtigung des durch die Verf olgung erschwerten Verkehrs zwischen 
Rom und dem alexandrinischen Bischofs in das Jahr 259 angesetzt 
werden. Fallt aber die Abfassung des e!Xe7xos spatestens in das 
Jahr 260, wie nachgewiesen wurde, so hat dieses Datum einige 
Folgen fiir die Chronologic des Papstes Dionys. Jiilicher und nach 
ihm Lietzmann 16 nahmen den 22. August 260 als den Tag der Inthro- 
nisation des Dionys an. Nun hat aber Dionys von Rom mit den 
Libyern und mit dem alexandrinischen Bischof eine ausgedehnte 
Korrespondenz vor Beendigung der Verfolgung, also etwa vor 
Herbst 260 gefuhrt. Auch liegt kein unbedingt zwingender Gtund 
dafiir vor, dass durch die Verfolgung eine Sedisvakanz auf dem 
romischen Stuhl verursacht wurde, zumal Dionys schon als Pres- 
byter eine bedeutende Rolle in dem romischen Klerus gespielt hatte. 
Gerade in schwierigen Zeiten konnte Dionys als bewahrter Kleriker 
ohne allzulangen Verzug des Stuhl Petri besteigen. An dieser 
Stelle erweisen sich die Daten des Catalogus Liberianus und des 
sogenannten Index nicht als zuverlassig, da schon die relative Chro- 
nologic der Briefe aus dem Streit des Dionys von Alexandrien mit 
den Libyern eindeutig dafur spricht, dass die Korrespondenz hi 
die Jahre 259 und 260 fallt. Also muss Dionys von Rom schon zu 
dieser Zeit den Stuhl Petri innegehabt haben. 

Es ist ist nicht eigentlich genauer bekannt, welche theologische 
Meinung die Libyer im Einzelnen vertreten haben. Nur die oben 
erwahnten Andeutungen hi dem Fragment des Dionys von Rom 
lassen Schliisse zu. Danach lebte in den Gemeinden der alte 
Monarchianismus, der in bewusstem Gegensatz zu dem angeblichen 
Tritheismus der Origenisten stand. Aber auch Dionys lernt man 
aus den Fragmenten nur sehr einseitig kenne. Denn Athanasius hat 
nur die Stellen angezogen, die geeignet waren, die Berufung der 
Arianer aus Dionys als falsch zu erweisen. Daher hat er nur die 
Partien aus dem Werk des Dionys ausgeschrieben, an denen dieser 
versucht, im Sinne des Dionys von Rom seinen Brief an Ammon 

zumal Theodot, der Besieger Aemilians, erst fur 262 als Praefekt bezeugt ist (Pap. 
Strassburg 5). 

16 Petrus und Paulus 2 S. 9. 


und Euphranor zu interpretieren. Allerdings gibt es kaum eine 
Kontrolle dafur, in welchem Masse das Dionys getan hat. Wenn 
Athanasius schreibt (de sent. 4, 2 S. 48, 19-22) : <f>a<ri (die Arianer) 
rolvvv iv &rioroX]7 rbv fianapiov Aiovbcriov eiprjK&ai, irolijua Kal yeviiTbv 
elvat, rbv vibv roO dtov jui^re & $6<m Wiov, dXXd !-frov /car' oixriav abrbv 
elpai roO irarp6s, &airep tarlv 6 ycupyds irpds rfy ap,irf\ov Kal 6 vaviryyAs 
irpbs r& ffKafos' Kal yap <bs Trolifjua &v oi)K fy irplv yivifrai, so ist das nur 
ein Referat uber die Dionysauslegung der Arianer. 

Denn ebensowenig wie Origenes wird Dionys den Sohn als ein 
, als yevriT6s oder als nicht 0fom Uios vl6s TOV Oeov oder als &vos 
otoiav bezeichnet haben. Das sind vielmehr die bekannten 
Stichworte der Gegner des Athanasius. Hingegen werden nur der 
Vergleich aus Joh. 15, 1 vom Weinstock und Landmann und das Bild 
vom Schiffsbauer und Kahn durch Dionys selbst (de sent. 18, 1 S. 
59, 4-5) bezeugt. Genauer berichtet Athanasius (de sent. 5, 2 S. 
49, 16 ff.), dass Dionys in seinem Briefe dargelegt habe: STI o\>x & 
irariip dXX' 6 vios kanv 6 yev6fj.evos virlp rjn&v avdpwiros, und jui) dvai 
r6v iraripa vibv. 

Denn darum hat man offenkundig gestritten, dass die Origenisten 
die Sonderexistenz und die Selbststandigkeit des Vaters und des 
Sohnes scharf betonten, ohne dem Sohne die Gottlichkeit abzu- 
sprechen, die Libyer aber vielleicht den Sohn als die in Gott ruhende 
Vernunft verstanden, die erst bei der Inkarnation ihre Selbststan- 
digkeit erreicht. Gegen diese Vereinerleiung des Gottlichen im 
Vater grenzte sich Dionys im Sinne der Theologie des Origenes ab. 
Und auf diese seine Ausfuhrungen ebenso wie auf die Synode von 
268 beriefen sich die Origenisten des 4. Jahrhunderts, die rnan 
allzuleicht im Sinne der orthodoxen Polemik mit Arius identifiziert. 
Leider hat die riicksichtlose Polemik der Orthodoxen alle Spuren 
der theologischen Schriftstellerei der origenistischen Bischofe ver- 
tilgt, und daher wissen wir nur durch Athanasius selbst von dem 
Streit in dem 5. und 6. Jahrzehnt um die Vaterzeugnisse, insbeson- 
dere um Dionys. Aber eine Stelle ist doch gerettet worden zusam- 
men mit anderen Kostbarkeiten aus der nichtorthodoxen Schrift- 
stellerei des 4. Jahrhunderts, namlich in den beriihmten arianischen 
Fragmenten in dem Palimpsest des Codex Vaticanus lat. 5750 und 
des Ambrosianus E 147 sup. Das fragliche Fragment" steht in 
Cod. Vatic, lat. 5750 p. 275 und lautet: 

17 Zuerst wurde es gedruckt von A. Mai, Script, vet. nova collectio III, 2 S. 231, 
dann eingehend von H. Boehmer in der Zeitschr. f. wiss. Theologie 46 (1903) 


. . . prouisor omnium, iudex et dispensator, deus qui omnia 
creauit et construxit, qui fecit omnia ex nihilo. Iterum idem 
ipse Athanasius antiquorum profert memoriam ac Dionysi epis- 
copi, ut ostendat ante esse patrem quam films generaretur, 
dicens: ita pater quidem pater et non filius; non quia factus 
est, sed quia est; non ex aliquo, sed in se permanens. filius 
autem et non pater; non quia erat, sed quia factus est; non de 
se, sed ex eo qui eum fecit, filii dignitatem sortitus est. . . . 
Ich retrovertiere das Dionysfragment ins Griechische: 
TrAXiv 6 airrbs 'AQav&ffios T&V irpeff($vrtp<av nvijfjiovevei, nal Aiowoioi; 
TOV tmffKbirov, 'Lva. 6,iro8el%[i irpovir&pxew rbv iraTtpa irplv yevvqdfi b 
vlbSf Myw "oi5T 6 7rari)p y&p irar^p KO! ovx vi6s, obx 6 iroirjdds 
&XX' 6 &v, oi)K 'in TWOS AXX* &f>' tavrQ ft&uv vl6s 6k /cal oi) i 
ovx b &v dXX' 6 irouqBds, ob Trap' taVToi), dXX' in TOV iroi'fiffavTOS 
rbv rb TOV vlov d^iwjua lKh}pov6fii]ffv." 

Der Athanasius 1st, wie schon Boehmer richtig erkannt hatte, 
kein anderer als Athanasius von Anazarbos in Kilikien, den Athana- 
sius von Alexandrien als Schriftsteller namhaft macht vgl. jetzt 
meine Urkunden zum arianischen Streit nr. 11. Und der Dionys, 
der als Vaterzeugnis von Athanasius angefuhrt wird, kann nur unser 
Dionys sein. Wann dieser Brief des Athanasius geschrieben worden 
ist, entzieht sich unserer Kenntnis, zumal er bei dem Lateiner auch 
nur fragmentarisch erhalten ist. Ich mochte aber annehmen, dass 
das Stuck in die vornicaenische Zeit gehort, also am besten zu Urk. 
11 zu stellen ist. Denn Athanasius von Anazarbos begegnet nur 
noch als Lehrer des Aetius, als dieser von dem antiochenischen 
Bischof Eulalius vertrieben war (Philostorgius III 15 S. 46, 1 Bidez). 
Der Aufenthalt des Aetius fallt in die Zeit um 330 oder nur wenig 
spater. Wie lange Athanasius gelebt hat, ist unbekannt. Da ich 
keinen besseren Ort weiss, und den Athanasiusbrief keinesfalls in 
die Zeit von de sententia des alexandrinischen Athanasius setzen 
kann, mochte ich das Stuck Urk. 11 zuweisen. Das empfiehlt sich 
schon deshalb, weil in dem weiteren Text des Athanasiusbriefes 
Ausfuhrungen zu Joh. 14, 28 begegnen, eine Stelle, die in der vorni- 

264 ff. 269 besprochen. Dann erwahnte es Harnack, Chronologie II S. 60, 2. 
Und endlich hat es D. de Bruyne in der Zeitschrift f. neutest. Wiss. 27 (1928) 
106 if. sorgfaltig herausgegeben, seine Ausgabe drucke ich hier ab. Ein photo- 
graphische Wiedergabe findet man in: Codices e vaticanis selecti phototypice 
expressi vol. VII p. 275. Fur das Verstandnis des Dionys ist das Fragment bisher 
nicht herangezogen worden. 



caenischen Periode des arianischen Streites viel erortert wurde vgl. 
Urk. 3, 2 S. 5, 3. Dass die Origenisten sich auf Origenes selbst 
beriefen, bezeugt Euseb c. Marc. I 4 S. 18, 8; 19, 1 ff. und vor 
allem S. 21, 7 ff. Man arbeitete damals sehr mit Zeugnissen aus der 
origenistischen Schule, wahrscheinlich wird man auch Dionys heran- 
gezogen haben. Aber ich sehe davon ab, den Brief des Athanasius 
zu besprechen und beschranke mich auf das Dionysfragment. Der 
Satz: pater quidem pater et non films wird durch Athanasius mit 
den Worten /} clvai rt>v ira-ripa vl6v bezeugt. Im iibrigen spricht 
sich Dionys in den wenigen erhaltenen Worten entschieden gegen 
eine Vereinerleiung von Vater und Sohn aus, nimmt also gegen eine 
Theologie Stellung, wie sie von den Libyern vertreten worden ist. 
Und in der Tat konnten sich die Arianer auf Dionys' Formel: der 
vl6s sei der Trowjfleis im Gegensatz zum Vater, der der &v ist, fur ihr 
TToii/jua 6 vl6s berufen. Das Zitat gibt endlich einen, wenn auch 
geringen, so doch sehr aufschlussreichen Einblick in die theologische 
Argumentation des Dionys, die dieser vortrug, wenn er nicht auf 
die Intervention des Romers Riicksicht nehmen musste. Da nach 
der Ueberlieferung Dionys sich antimonarchianisch in dem Brief an 
Euphranor und Ammonius ausgelassen hat, und da die Arianer 
diesen Brief fur ihre Polemik gegen Athanasius benutzt haben, so 
ergibt sich als einzige Moglichkeit, das Fragment dem Brief des 
Dionys an Euphranor und Ammonius zuzuweisen. Athanasius hat 
genau gewusst, mit welchen Stiicken aus der literarischen Hinter- 
lassenschaft des Dionys er seinen theologischen Gegnern den aner- 
kannten Theologen Dionys aus der origenistischen Schule zu ent- 
winden versuchen durfte. Darum beschrankt er sich auf das Werk 
des Dionys, in dem dieser nicht ungebunden seine Anschauung dar- 
gestellt hatte. Das triumphierende Bewusstsein des Athanasius: 
er ist unser, teilten andere nicht, die gewiss nicht als Orthodoxer 
als der grosse Vorkampfer gelten konnten. So setzte sich Basilius 
kaum 10. Jahre nach Athanasius' Schrift nicht so vorbehaltlos fur 
Dionys ein, wenn er an den Philosophen Maximus, der die Schriften 
des Dionys gern lesen wollte, schreibt ep. 9 (III 90 C Gamier) : oti 
ir&i>Ta 0ai^uafo/*ei' TOV avSpos. m 8k a icai Travr\&$ Siaypafopfv. <rxe86v 
yap Tavrijffl TTJS vvv irepiOpv\oviJ.&r)s &<rej3das, rfjs Kara rb dvb^oiov \iy<a } 
oiiros tffTiv, &ffa ye ^/xets Zo>iej>, 6 Trpwros avdptbirois TO, 
alnov 84, ot/uat, ob irovtjpia yvt^nris, AXXa rb <r<f>68pa Pob\e<r9<u 
T$ SajScXXtcj?. Und in de spiritu sancto 29, 72 (III 60 E Garnier) 


zitiert Basilius Dionys als Zeugen fiir die Doxologieformel mit den 
einschrankenden Worten: 8 nal irap&So&v &Kov<rat. 

Und Rufin behauptet, die Schriften des Dionys seien von den 
Ketzern verfalscht, well er festellen muss: in his tamen libris suis, 
quos aduersum Sabellii haeresin scripsit, talia inueniuntur inserta, 
ut frequenter Ariani auctoritate ipsius se def endere conentur. (de 
adulteratione lib. Origenis, opera Origenis ed. Lommatzsch 25 8. 
387) . Doch scheint Rufin ebenso wie Hieronymus (c . Rufinum II 17) 
Dionys nur durch Athanasius zukennen. Und schliesslich Gen- 
nadius (?) liber sive definitio ecclesiasticorum dogmatum c. 4 (ed. 
Turner in: Journal of Theol. Studies 7, 1906, 90): Dionysius fons 
Arii beweist nun vollends, dass die Origenisten des 4. Jahrhunderts 
durch ihre Berufung auf Dionys diesen starker verdachtigten als 
ihn Athanasius' Apologie je fiir die Orthodoxie zu retten vermochte. 


d'apres le plan de MM. les archit. Fillet et Pearson, dans C. Hopkins "Prelim- 
inary Report . . . 1931-2." Planche xxxix. 


d'apres E. Gatti "Notizie degli Scavi" 1918, p. 2, fig. 1. 


ficole Bibligue 

Th&me pre"tentieux, penseront les techniciens. Theme sterile va 
soupirer une critique de'sabuse'e par 1'accumulation de theories 
divergentes, ayant chacune sa part de seduction. A tout le moins, 
rectifieront les gens d'esprit, theme fort mal approprte pour un 
hommage au maltre contemporain le plus Eminent de la Critique 
textuelle du Nouveau Testament et de Phistoire des origines 
chre'tiennes. Tous ces e"mois seront apaise"s, je Pesplre, par Pob- 
servation pre"judicielle que ce titre ne couvre aucune dissertation 
de'taille'e, plus ou moins dogmatisante, sur un sujet qui divise 
toujours les spe*cialistes; il introduit tout bonnement quelques 
reflexions sur les debuts de 1'architecture chre'tienne, sugge're'es par 
un long contact avec une documentation monumentale produite 
par la felicite" de notre temps, ou 1'investigation arche"ologique est 
a 1'homieur, multipliant les de"couvertes inattendues. 

Et si M. le professeur Kirsopp Lake s'est acquis Padmiration et 
la gratitude mondiales par ses brilliants travaux dans le domaine 
spe"cialement ardu de la Critique ne"otestamentaire, tous ceux a qui 
ses travaux sont tant soit peu f amiliers, ceux surtout qui eurent, un 
jour ou 1'autre, le privilege de 1'aborder savent le profond inte"r6t 
qu'il prend a tout ce qui est de nature a e"clairer par un aspect 
quelconque, fut-il de pure arch^ologie, "les commencements de la 
Chre'tiente'." Cette modeste e"tude lui est done de'die'e comme un 
t^moignage de bien cordiale reconnaissance, par un de ses disciples 
occasionnels. Son but est de montrer que 1'architecture chre'tiemie 
initiate n'eVolua point sur un type de commande, et de mettre en 
evidence que ses premiers monuments officiels, dans l'6re constanti- 
nienne, eurent une originalit^ beaucoup plus puissante que la 
doctrine arche"ologique regue jusqu'ici ne leur en attribuait. 


Le Christianisme, comme toute institution religieuse, comporte 
ne"cessairement un culte et des monuments approprie*s a la pratique 



normale de ce culte. Son monument essentiel est 1' "6glise," 
c'est-a-dire, en cette acception derived mais courante, I'&Hfice ou 
les fideles se rassemblent pour entendre 1'enseignement divin, prier 
en commun et surtout c616brer les saints myst^res. II n'est pas 
en ce moment question d'esquisser a nouveau, m&ne a larges 
traits, Involution de cet Edifice, depuis la constitution initiale des 
disciples du Christ -en Communaute 1 dans la "Salle Haute" du 
C&iacle et les reunions apostoliques au Temple et dans les syna- 
gogues accueillantes a la foi nouvelle, en Palestine et a travers la 
Diaspora orientale. 

Sous le vocable d' "e*glises prive'es" ou d' "e"glises domestiques" 
les historiens ont 6tudi6 de maniere fort Erudite ces lieux de reunions, 
accidentelles d'abord et bient6t permanentes, en chaque centre ou 
la foi au Christ se propageait. Peut-e'tre ne"anmoins ont-ils trop 
insist^, d'aprs leurs preferences respectives, sur une adaptation 
concrete a Pordonnance nuance*e de la maison hell^nistique ou de la 
maison romaine. Suivant les regions graduellement conquises par 
Papostolat chr^tien, ces premiers lieux de reunion eurent le carac- 
tere vane" des habitations juives, gr4co-romaines, ou franchement 
hell&iistiques. En beaucoup de cas les assemblies primordiales se 
tinrent en de tr6s humbles demeures, plus spontan&nent hospital- 
ieres, pour lesquelles il serait hasardeux de revendiquer un type 
architectural tres precis, helienistique ou romam; c'est exactement, 
de nos jours encore, le cas de toute mission qui s'mstalle en pays 
infidele. Au hasard des circonstances, il fut possible d'utiliser des 
demeures plus amples, voire m^me, par une exceptionelle tolerance, 
quelque edifice municipal, 1 en attendant que des proselytes de 
marque aient am6nag6 dans leurs maisons des locaux plus propices. 

Le jour vint ou le progres acc616r6 des conversions, 1'ampleur des 
communaut^s et leur organisation hie'rarchise'e requirent en chaque 
centre un local explicitement ordonne" suivant les exigences litur- 
giques chr6tiennes. II fut re"alis6 sous des formes passablement 
diffe"rentes, conditionn^es par le milieu, les ressources et surtout les 
conditions politiques r^gionales. Tandis qu'a Doura par exemple, 
aux limites septentrionales de Syrie, vers le premier quart du III* 
siecle, 1' "^glise" chr^tienne etait encore sur le type d'une habita- 
tion spacieuse a peine modifie'e pour une adaptation meilleure au 

1 Par exemple & fiph&se, '&> TQ oxoXf? Tvp&vvov, (Act. Ap. XIX, 9). 


culte, 3 celle d'Emmaiis, dans la Palestine occidentale, reproduisait 
de*ja 1'ordonnance d'une basilique grandiose. 3 Plus d'un siecle 
devait cependant s'e*couler encore avant que la conversion de 
1'Empire et la paix constantinienne aient fait en quelque sorte de 
la basilique le type officiel de l'e*glise chre*tienne. 

Ces conque'tes arche*ologiques bouleversent assure*ment trop la 
routine des conclusions des longtemps accre*dite*es dans les Ency- 
clope*dies et les Manuels pour ne pas soulever de pre*caires objec- 
tions. Le temps et une documentation plus copieuse les elimin- 
eront. Mais 1'evidence d&s maintenant acquise ouvre une perspec- 
tive insoupc.onne'e sur 1'origine de Pe*difice chre*tien d^finitivement 
constitue*, YoUos lKK\qffias dont la basilique, avec ses elements 
annexes, fut le type officiel apparemment le plus en faveur, parce 
qu'il e*tait alors le mieux approprie* au culte, dans le stade initial 
de 1'organisation liturgique ante"rieure au triomphe de la Foi chre"- 
tienne. Au lieu de repre*senter un type soi-disant "canonique," 
realise" par des emprunts complexes dans 1'dre constantinienne, la 
basilique apparatt aujourd'hui comme une adaptation familiere, 
ds le III* siecle pour le moins, aux architectes chre'tiens; ceux de 
Constantin n'en firent qu'une application plus monumentale, 
nuancee fort ing^nieusement pour une adaptation plus adequate a 
des exigences locales particulieres, dans les plus vene'rables sites 
4vangdliques palestiniens. 


Pas plus que le terme d' "^glise," celui de "basilique" n'exprima 
d'abord par sa valeur intrins^que l'4difice chre*tien dont il devenait 
cependant la designation conventionnelle et courante, apres en 
avoir sp6cifi6 d6ja les types pre*curseurs dans Farchitecture antique. 
Get Edifice "royal" 6tait seulement une construction de style 
variable mais d'ordonnance d^termin^e, qui tranchait sur les autres, 
dans les agglomerations urbaines, par son ampleur usuelle, souvent 
aussi par sa relative somptuosite". 

Ce n'est assur&nent pas le lieu de rabdcher Texpos^, moins encore 

2 Voir C. Hopkins, The Christian Church, dans The Excavations at Dura-Europos, 
fifth prelim, report, Yale, 1934, p. 238-253 et pi. XXXIX s. Les fresques de'co- 
rant cette 4glise domestique, 6tudi4es par M. P. V. C. Baur, op. laud., p. 254-288 
et pi. XLI-LI, ne sont pas moins re've'latrices que le monument lui-m&ne pour 
les origines de Part chre'tien. 

8 Vincent-Abel, Emmaus, sa basilique et son histoire, Paris, 1932. 


la critique des multiples theories sur la genese basilicale. Chacun 
sait que le Temple de Jerusalem, les synagogues juives, le me'garon 
mycenien ou cretois, 1'habitation hellenistique, la maison romaine, 
les basiliques civile, judiciaire, foraine, prive"e, d'autres monuments 
encore lui furent assigns tour a tour comme prototypes. 4 Aucune 
creation artistique ne procedant jamais du n6ant, il n'est pas 
douteux que la basilique chretienne ait eu des antecedents architec- 
turaux et soit la synthese d'influences techniques tres vari^es. A 
vouloir toutefois la recluire a quelque derivation exclusive plus ou 
moins servile d'un prototype structural, on meconnait son intrin- 
seque originalite primordiale et la puissante inspiration esthetique 
nouvelle d'ou elle proceda. 

Sans remonter aux antecedents lointains et imprecis constitues 
par les salles hypostyles de Pantiquite orientale, egyptienne et 
grecque, rappelons seulement la fameuse basilique de la Porte 
Majeure a Rome. 8 Cette basilique, a 1'usage d'une confrerie neo- 
pythagoricienne a doctrines esoteriques, represente en effet, suivant 
la tres juste expression de M. J. Carcopino, "dans la Rome im- 
periale du regne de Claude, une eglise, avec tout ce que cemot com- 
porte . . . d'organisation materielle." 6 

On voit 1'inanite de faire eiaborer a frais nouveaux, deux a trois 
siecles plus tard, un programme architectural absolument identique, 
par adaptation libre ou rigoureuse d'un prototype quelconque, ou 
par evolution graduelle sous une succession d'influences ou les 
necessites modules de la liturgie s'amalgameraient avec les progres 
de ^architecture. 

Dans cet art, plus qu'en tout autre peut-6tre, les aspects qu'on 

4 Une des plus substantielles Etudes sur le sujet demeure encore la monographic 
du regrette" G. Leroux, Le probl&me de la basilique chr&tienne, qui termine son 
livre sur Les origines de Vedifice hypostyle en Grece, en Orient et chez les Romains, 
dans la "Biblioth. des ficoles Frangaises de Rome et d'Athenes," fasc. 108, Paris 
1913, p. 308-341. Pour lui, la basilique chre"tienne a pour type original 1'hypo- 
style grec, mais transform^ pour devenir "1'unique et splendide expression d'un 
nouvel ide"al" (p. 339). II vaut assur&nent la peine de noter que ce concept 
fondamental est aussi celui de M. J. Strzygowski, Ursprung der christl. Kirchen- 
kunst, Leipzig, 1920, p. 178. On n'apergoit pas grande originality dans le chapitre 
que M. H. W. Beyer, Der Syrische Kircheribau, Berlin, 1925, consacre* a "1'origine 
du theme basilical" (p. 137 ss.). La meme observation s'applique a de plus 
r^centes dissertations. 

5 Voir E. Gatti et F. Fornari, Monumento sotteraneo presso Porta Maggiore in 
Roma, dans Notizie degli Scavi, 1918, p. 30-52. 

6 J. Carcopino, La basilique pythagoricienne de la Porta Maggiore, 1927, p. 384. 

La basilique chre'tienne d 1 Emmaus, vers 221 en Palestine, d'apres Emmaus . . . , pi. XX 

'"'' -'^.^^i^^'^^^^^'^M^^^^^^. .>' '.yfevVV;ivffi-ih&^^ 

ime de resliuratlon del* buillque conslanUntenae. 

La basilique constantinienne, de 1' fileona, d' apres R. B., 1911, p. 259. fig. 10. 


la critique des multiples theories sur la genese basilicale. Chacun 
sait que le Temple de Jerusalem, les synagogues juives, le me'garon 
myce'men ou cretois, 1'habitation helienistique, la maison romaine, 
les basiliques civile, judiciaire, foraine, prive'e, d'autres monuments 
encore lui furent assigns tour a tour comme prototypes. 4 Aucune 
creation artistique ne procedant jamais du ne"ant, il n'est pas 
douteux que la basilique chre'tienne ait eu des antecedents architec- 
turaux et soit la synthese d'influences techniques tres variees. A 
vouloir toutefois la r^duire a quelque derivation exclusive plus ou 
moins servile d'un prototype structural, on me'connait son intrin- 
s&que originalite primordiale et la puissante inspiration esthetique 
nouvelle d'ou elle proceda. 

Sans remonter aux 'antecedents lointains et imprecis constitues 
par les salles hypostyles de 1'antiquite orientale, egyptienne et 
grecque, rappelons seulement la fameuse basilique de la Porte 
Majeure a Rome. 5 Cette basilique, a 1'usage d'une confrerie neo- 
pythagoricienne a doctrines esoteriques, represente en effet, suivant 
la tres juste expression de M. J. Carcopino, "dans la Rome im- 
periale du regne de Claude, une eglise, avec tout ce que ce mot com- 
porte . . . d'organisation materielle." 6 

On voit 1'inanite de faire eiaborer a frais nouveaux, deux a trois 
siecles plus tard, un programme architectural absolument identique, 
par adaptation libre ou rigoureuse d'un prototype quelconque, ou 
par evolution graduelle sous une succession d'influences ou les 
necessites modifiees de la liturgie s'amalgameraient avec les progres 
de 1'architecture. 

Dans cet art, plus qu'en tout autre peut-^tre, les aspects qu'on 

4 Une des plus substantielles 6tudes sur le sujet demeure encore la monographic 
du regrett6 G. Leroux, Le probleme de la basilique chretienne, qui termine son 
livre sur Les origines de I'edifice hypostyle en Grece, en Orient et chez les Remains, 
dans la "Biblioth. des ficoles Frangaises de Rome et d'Ath&nes," fasc. 108, Paris 
1913, p. 308-341. Pour lui, la basilique chre'tienne a pour type original 1'hypo- 
style grec, mais transform^ pour devenir "l'unique et splendide expression d'un 
nouvel ide"al" (p. 339). II vaut assurement la peine de noter que ce concept 
fondamental est aussi celui de M. J. Strzygowski, Ursprung der christl. Kirchen- 
kunst, Leipzig, 1920, p. 178. On n'apercoit pas grande originalite" dans le chapitre 
que M. H. W. Beyer, Der Syrische Kircheribau, Berlin, 1925, consacre" a "1'origine 
du theme basilical" (p. 137 ss.). La me"me observation s'applique a de plus 
r6centes dissertations. 

5 Voir E. Gatti et F. Fornari, Monumento sotteraneo presso Porta Maggiore in 
Roma, dans Notizie degli Scavi, 1918, p. 30-52. 

6 J. Carcopino, La basilique pythagoricienne de la Porta Maggiore, 1927, p. 384. 


Pimm XX 



Mmvas, 1314-1330 

La basilique chretienne d' Emmaiis, vers 221 en Palestine, d'apres Emmaus . . . ,pl. XX 

Klj. 10. L'EWona. Dlagrammo de reslaurallon do'la basillijuo conslantlnlcnne. 

La basilique constant! nienne, de 1' fileona, d' apres R. B., 1911, p. 259. fig. 10. 


pourrait dire humains doivent demeurer & la base de toute sp6cula- 
tion sur les arguments de style et la parente" des formes. L'artiste, 
sculpteur ou peintre, travaille en plein ide"al aussi souvent qu'il 
lui plait; il a toute liberte* de s'abstraire des re*alite*s concretes, 116 
seulement par les possibility's spe*ciales de son bloc de marbre, de 
sa toile et de ses couleurs. L'architecte, au contraire, a pour point 
de depart les donne'es mate'rielles de son programme, et son inspira- 
tion est fatalement lie"e aux exigences rigides et impe'rieuses de ce 
programme, des mate'riaux et des ressources dont il dispose. II 
pensera d'autre sorte pour cre*er un garage, un theatre, un palace ou 
une 6glise, et sa conception esthe*tique devra ne"cessairement se 
modifier encore, suivant qu'il sera contraint d'envisager une 
b&tisse en pierres, en briques ou en be"ton arme". 

Ds que les conditions politiques locales, provisoirement ameli- 
ore'es bien avant le statut officiel de 1'Empire, autoris&rent les 
groupes chr^tiens a se pourvoir d'un local propre a 1'exercice en 
commun de leur culte, le programme impose* presque de rigueur a 
1'architecte fut categorique: re"aliser un Edifice apte a contenir 
commode'ment I'assemble'e des fideles en laissant tous les regards 
converger, avec le minimum d'obstacles, vers un autel ^rige* pour 
la calibration des saints mystres. Entre tous les partis archi- 
tecturaux qui s'offraient d^s lors a son chok, le plus avantageux, 
comme aussi le plus simple, 6tait sans contredit le type basilical: 
enceinte rectangulaire avec files inte'rieures de supports libres pour 
la toiture; les proportions e"taient d^finies a volont6 suivant I'am- 
pleur de la Communaute" qu'il s'agissait de pourvoir, et la super- 
position d'un ordre plus modique aux supports infe'rieurs laissait 
toute facility d'ae"ration et d'e*clairage, en m6me temps qu'elle 
d^veloppait 1'espace utile par des galeries sup&rieures 6ventuelles. 
Autel et ministres du culte avaient une localisation en quelque sorte 
in61uctable, au fond du rectangle, sur son axe median. L'ex&dre 
facultative du type basilical antique 7 y devenait au contraire une 
addition usuelle sous le nom d' "abside." En tout ce concept 
fondamental, on dirait volontiers humain, du programme a r^aliser, 
1'architecte chre'tien, dans n'importe quel milieu, dut penser sponta- 
n^ment de m&ne sorte que 1'architecte romain charge" de pourvoir 

7 C'est le m&ite de G. Leroux, op. laud., p. 205 ss., 271, 282 etc., d'avoir 6tabli 
que 1'abside n'est pas un organe essentiel et primordial de la basilique. J'ai 
tent6 naguere d'^tablir son addition n^cessaire et 1'origine de son 6ventuelle 
plurality dans la basilique chr6tienne (Emmaiis etc., p. 211-227). 


d'une "eglise" la communaute n6o-pythagoricienne qui florissait 
dans la m&ropole imperiale des le milieu du I* sidcle de notre &re. 

On n'envisagera naturellement nulle part la copie chretienne du 
theme n^o-pythagoricien de Rome, mais la realisation a peu pres 
identique pour un but analogue, d'un theme courant des lors et 
qu'il n'y avait done plus a cr^er de toutes pieces. Les modifications 
de detail que reque"rait 1'adaptation nouvelle furent d'ailleurs assez 
sensibles pour individualiser promptement la forme chretienne du 
type. On vient de dire, en effet, que 1'abside, etrangere au concept 
fondamental de la basilique pai'enne, devenait un element essentiel 
de sa destination au culte chretien, pour situer 1'autel au centre, 
le trdne Episcopal au fond et les gradins du presbyterium au pour- 
tour. De part et d'autre de 1'autel les credences, appetees diaco- 
nikon et proth&se, indispensables pour le mobilier liturgique et la 
preparation des offrandes, furent sans doute a 1'origine de simples 
gueridons mobiles, a 1'instar de 1'autel lui-me'me. Des que celui-ci 
devint fixe, elles se transformerent en reduits permanents dans les 
parois de 1'hemicycle et prirent parfois la forme d'absides secon- 
daires symetriques. 

La doctrine la plus en faveur de nos jours consid&re 1'amenage- 
ment stable du diaconikon et de la prothdse, faisant fonction de nos 
sacristies modernes, comme le re"sultat d'exigences liturgiques 6vo- 
Iu4es que les Constitutions Apostoliques auraient codifiees pour la 
premiere fois au IV 6 siecle. Quant aux absides lat&ales, sugg^rees 
peut-^tre par quelque preoccupation de symbolisme trinitaire, elles 
n'apparaitraient pas avant la fin du V siecle, devenues necessaires 
alors par 1'extension considerable du personnel ecciesiastique et la 
pompe des ceremonies qui reve"taient alors un caractere ofSciel dans 
1'Empire chretien. Loin de moi la pensee d'exclure avec outrance 
toute reaction de la liturgie sur 1'ordonnance basilicale des temps 
byzantins. II est bien evident que la prosperite chretienne, le 
developpement du culte et de ses ministres, 1'organisation plus 
complexe de la communaute provoquerent quelques modifications 
accidentelles dans 1'ordonnance basilicale. On congoit comme une 
suite normale de telles exigences 1'amplification absidale par dilata- 
tion de 1'hemicycle et addition frequente d'une travee de choeur, 
la multiplication trinaire plus constante des absides ou leur groupe- 
ment sous forme de plan trefle, 1'insertion entre le choeur et le 
vaisseau d'une nef transversale communement appeiee "transept," 


1'addition en facade, entre basilique et atrium, d'une autre 
petite nef transversale close dite "narthex," enfin quelques trans- 
formations accessoires de plus minime importance qui n'alte"raient 
pas le type fondamental de la basilique primitive. 

II faut ne'anmoins accentuer aujourd'hui qu'on a fait fausse route 
en imaginant la basilique chre'tienne comme une type fige 1 , copie 
he"sitante du programme antique, ou amalgame de composants 
disparates, sur quoi se seraient greffe's plus ou moins tard des ele 1 - 
ments he'te'roclites. A la lumiere des de"couvertes contemporaines 
elle apparait sous un aspect tout autre et singulierement plus 
rationnel. Issue du type basilical antique le mieux fait pour 
repondre aux ne'cessite's fondamentales du nouveau culte, elle ne< 
tarda pas a evoluer sous 1'inspiration d'architectes qui surent 
1'adapter aux exigences progressives du fonctionnement liturgique. 
En pleine epoque imperiale, au premier quart du III* siecle dans 
la cite 1 palestinienne romanisee d'Emmaus-Nicopolis ou un con- 
cours de circonstances propices assurait une large tolerance aux 
chr^tiens, leur basilique atteste de fagon grandiose Involution 
monumentale de"ja considerable du type. 8 C'est un vaisseau de 44 
metres sur 22 en chiffres ronds, que deux files de colonnes repartis- 
saient en trois nefs syme'triques termine'es par autant d'absides 
semi-circulaires, celle du centre exte"rieurement projet^e dans un 
chevet polygonal saillant; au pourtour de cette abside me'diane 
plus importante les gradins du presbyterium encadrant le si6ge du 
pontife, et au centre 1'autel stable, 6rig6 sur la piscine sacre"e, 
thalassa ; un atrium en facade et un 4dicule annexe pour le bap- 
tistere. C'est dire assez que la basilique chre'tienne 6tait normale- 
ment dote"e d6ja de tous ses organes essentiels, plus d'un siecle avant 
cette ere constantinienne ou Ton avait tendance a rellguer ses 
origines timides et incertaines. 

II convient assur^ment de d^plorer que cette attestation arch^olo- 
gique explicite demeure unique a ce jour. Nul n'ignore plus toute- 
fois, qu'a 1'encontre des assertions pr^caires sur I'impossibilit6 
radicale d'une architecture chr^tienne en toute 1'ere imp^riale 
romaine, suite de persecutions a peu pres constantes, des ^glises 
nombreuses existerent a travers 1'Empire. En attendant que 
1'heureuse d^couverte d'autres ruines basilicales 6chapp6es au vanda- 
lisme syst^matiquement destructeur vienne corroborer le temoig- 

8 Of. Emmaiis etc., p. 254 SB., pi. II s., XVI, XX. 


nage de la basilique d'Emmaiis, son temoignage est assez concret 
pour faire constater avec Evidence 1'autonomie remarquable de 
1'architecture chre'tienne primitive. II nous reste a nous en con- 
vaincre mieux encore en jetant un rapide coup d'oeil sur son brillant 
essor a l'e"poque de Constantin. 


Elles sont choisies de preference a toutes celles que fit e"clore en 
Orient et en Occident la conversion officielle de 1'Empire. Nulle 
part en effet mieux qu'aux sanctuaires de Palestine les architectes 
chr^tiens du IV e sicle n'eurent 1'occasion et la facility de donner 
leur mesure. De par les volonte"s et la munificence de Constantin, 
rien ne limitait leur inspiration pour re"aliser des monuments qu'on 
ambitionnait de voir e"clipser les plus fameuses creations antiques, 
afin de glorifier dignement les sites consacre"s par d'^mouvantes 
scenes eVangeliques. Trois sites furent choisis, entre lesquels 
s'encadrait toute Toeuvre de la Redemption. Pour employer le 
langage d'Eusebe, 9 c'etaient trois antres myste'rieux: celui de la 
Nativity du Sauveur a Bethle'em, celui de sa Sepulture et de sa 
Resurrection a Jerusalem, enfin celui de ses derniers Enseignements 
et de sa triomphante Ascension au Mont des Oliviers. 

II ne s'agissait plus d'&Iifices plus ou moins mesquins, a re*aliser 
sur quelque emplacement choisi d'apres le maximum de commodit4s 
pratiques pour la construction, mais de creations religieuses grandi- 
oses sur des sites que leur configuration me'me semblait a peu pr&s 
exclure de toute entreprise architecturale. On va voir que les 
techniciens Chretiens ne furent nullement pris au de"pourvu par les 
multiples difficultes de ce triple probl&me et que les de"sirs imp^riaux 
ne furent pas de"gus. 

De cette trilogie monumentale, un element depuis longtemps 
ane"anti, celui du Mont des Oliviers, n'a guere pr6occup4 les his- 
toriens, tromp^s sur sa localisation me'me. Ses ruines recouvre"es 
seulement de nos jours par des fouilles tres circonspectes demeu- 
raient assez expressives pour autoriser la restauration, pratiquement 
certaine, d'une basilique enga^ sur 1'antre des Enseignements de 
Je"sus, pieusement sauvegard^ sous forme de crypte. 10 Un ing^- 

9 Eus&be, Pan6gyrique de Constantin, IX, 17; cf. Vie de Constantin, III, 41. 

10 Voir Revue biblique, 1911, p. 219-265, et Vincent-Abel, Jerusalem nouvelle, 
p. 337-360; I'e'glise de 1'Eldona, pi. XXXIV ss. La restauration de cette basilique 
par M. E. Weigand, Zeitschrift des deut. Pal. Vereins, XLVI, 1923, p. 212 ss., 


Bn^^ " 3 ^i:i "ir-v, 

, zomcEt mierciuwib HE u 



Le Saint-Sepulcre constantinien, d' apres Jerusalem nouvelle, pi. XXXIII. 


La basilique de la Nativite a Bethleem 

plan de la basilique constantinienne (en noir, y compris les colonnades des nefs en gris fence") 

plan de la restauration sous Justinien (en grisaille) 
d'apres les recentes fouilles. 


nage de la basilique d'Emmaiis, son t&noignage est assez concret 
pour faire constater avec Evidence 1'autonomie remarquable de 
1'architecture chr<5tienne primitive. II nous reste a nous en con- 
vaincre mieux encore en jetant un rapide coup d'oeil sur son brillant 
essor a l'e"poque de Constantin. 


Elles sont choisies de preference a toutes celles que fit eclore en 
Orient et en Occident la conversion officielle de 1'Empire. Nulle 
part en effet mieux qu'aux sanctuaires de Palestine les architectes 
chre'tiens du IV e siecle n'eurent 1'occasion et la facilite" de donner 
leur mesure. De par les volontes et la munificence de Constantin, 
rien ne limitait leur inspiration pour reuliser des monuments qu'on 
ambitionnait de voir e"clipser les plus fameuses creations antiques, 
aim de glorifier dignement les sites consacre*s par d'^mouvantes 
scenes eVangeliques. Trois sites furent choisis, entre lesquels 
s'encadrait toute 1'oeuvre de la Redemption. Pour employer le 
langage d'Eusebe, 9 c'e*taient trois antres myste*rieux: celui de la 
Nativite" du Sauveur a Bethle'em, celui de sa Sepulture et de sa 
Resurrection a Jerusalem, enfin celui de ses derniers Enseignements 
et de sa triomphante Ascension au Mont des Oliviers. 

II ne s'agissait plus d'^difices plus ou moins mesquins, a re"aliser 
sur quelque emplacement choisi d'apres le maximum de commodite*s 
pratiques pour la construction, mais de creations religieuses grandi- 
oses sur des sites que leur configuration meme semblait a peu prs 
exclure de toute entreprise architecturale. On va voir que les 
techniciens chre'tiens ne furent nullement pris au de"pourvu par les 
multiples difficult^s de ce triple probleme et que les de*sirs impe'riaux 
ne furent pas de^us. 

De cette trilogie monumentale, un element depuis longtemps 
aneanti, celui du Mont des Oliviers, n'a guere pr^occupe les his- 
toriens, tromp^s sur sa localisation me'me. Ses ruines recouvr^es 
seulement de nos jours par des fouilles tres circonspectes demeu- 
raient assez expressives pour autoriser la restauration, pratiquement 
certaine, d'une basilique erige*e sur 1'antre des Enseignements de 
Je"sus, pieusement sauvegarde sous forme de crypte. 10 Un inge'- 

9 Eusebe, Panegyrique de Constantin, IX, 17; cf. Vie de Constantin, III, 41. 

10 Voir Revue biblique, 1911, p. 219-265, et Vincent-Abel, Jerusalem nouvelle, 
p. 337-360; I'iSglise de 1'Eldona, pi. XXXIV ss. La restauration de cette basilique 
par M. E. Weigand, Zeitschrift des deut. Pal. Vereins, XLVI, 1923, p. 212 ss., 

JtW.Al.EM II- _ 

rnppyuiu d rye, CTUEKTALE 



0;:r. .S.-ulO 20-30 /O 50 

Le Saint-Sepulcre constaminien, d' apres Jerusalem nouvelle, pi. XXXIII. 




La basilique de la Nativite a Bethleem 

-plan de la basilique constantinienne (en noir, y compris les colonnades des nefs en gris fence") 
plan de la restauration sous Justinien (en grisaille) 
d'apres les recentes fouilles. 


nieux syst&me de substructions avait rendu possible un developpe- 
ment normal de 1'atrium et de son portique; baptistere et logis 
eccle'siastiques s'&ageaient sur des terrasses lateiales. Cette 
adaptation harmonieuse attesterait d6ja la maltrise d'un architecte 
chr&ien qui n'en 6tait plus a une phase de tatonnements inexpe'ri- 
mente's. Aussi bien, ce programme ne de"passe-t-il guere, en de'fini- 
tive, la realisation basilicale d'Emmaiis, un long siecle plus t6t. 
Devant le groupe indivisible Calvaire et Saint-S6pulcre, le probl&me 
se compliquait de toutes les difficulty's resultant de 1'opposition 
fonciere entre les deux elements du lieu saint: roche pro&ninente 
de la Crucifixion et caverne se"pulcrale ,sur la rampe du coteau 
voisin; le sanctuaire e^ait d'ailleurs offusque 1 a ce moment par les 
Edifices municipaux tr&s denses de la colonie romaine, Aelia Capito- 
lina, dont on ne pouvait faire absolument table rase. 

La description officielle d'Eus&be qui vit construire le monument, 
celles des visiteurs, pelerins et touristes, qui le contempl&ent dans 
sa gloire avant les catastrophes successives du VII 8 silcle n'en 
donnaient qu'une image un peu confuse. Ces descriptions e'claire'es 
aujourd'hui par un graphique aussi pre"cieux que la Carte-mosaique 
de Mddaba et quelques vagues imitations monumentales, mais 
e'claire'es surtout par une patiente investigation du sanctuaire actuel 
et de tous ses environs m'ont conduit, voici presque un quart de 
siScle, a une restauration d'ensemble qui ne pretend certes pas 
rallier miraculeusement le suffrage universel, mais qui a recueilli 
1'agrement de maints spe"cialistes qualifies; 11 ses bases d'ailleurs ne 
sont pas e'branle'es par des objections restreintes pour la plupart a 
de menus details. 

Le probl&ne a re*soudre ici consistait a cr^er, pour glorifier le 
Calvaire et le Se"pulcre, des monuments de telle nature que la liturgie 

avec une abside rectangulaire dans un chevet droit, m6connait les indices d'une 
abside polygonale saillante et sure'leve'e clairement r6v614s par la fouille. Quant a 
sa date recutee jusqu'a la fin du V e siecle sur des arguments de style assez pre'caires, 
elle est loin de s'imposer, malgr6 I'adh4sion r^cente et tres de'cide'e de M. C. Wat- 
zinger, Denkm&ler Palastinas, II, 1935, p. 126 ss. On constatera bient6t par un 
autre exemple encore plus de'cisif que I'appr4ciation arche'ologique de ces deux 
m^mes savants fort distingue'es peut se trouver en de"faut. 

11 Dans Jerusalem nouvelle, fasc. I-II, 1914, la monographic du site et du monu- 
ment absorbe 140 pages; l'e"difice constantinien est traite" p. 154-180. Cf. Rev. 
BibL, 1913, p. 525 ss.; 1914, p. 94 ss.: Quelques representations antiques du S.- 


quotidienne y trouve 1'espace et I'accoinmodation propices aux 
ceremonies les plus pompeuses, et que les foules chre'tiennes ac- 
courues de tous les points de 1'Univers y puissent eVoluer avec 
aisance pour satisfaire leur pi^te". Le stade preliminaire de la re"alisa- 
tion consistait a ramener au jour le double lieu saint par la suppres- 
sion du Capitole colonial et de ses chapelles annexes qu'enfermait 
un ttmtnos long de 130 metres sur 40 de large, en bordure septen- 
trionale du Forum, sans bouleverser inutilement 1'ordonnance 
urbaine en ce quartier central de la cite". Le mamelon rocheux et 
le se"pulcre souterrain au flanc de la colline, de'barrasse's des Edifices 
remains qui, depuis deux siecles, en fixaient le site dans la m^moire 
des disciples du Christ et libe're's du remblai qui les avait nivele's, 
reparurent promptement. Us 6taient dans leur int6grit6 primor- 
diale, respected par les architectes d'Hadrien et que n'avaient 
d'ailleurs pas altered les faits de guerre de 1'an 70 et de 1'an 135. 12 

La grande enceinte rectangulaire ou 1'ingenieur colonial avait 
englob6 de tr&s vieilles epaves du rempart Israelite fut de'libe're'ment 
sauvegarde'e pour prolonger sa fonction protectrice, avec une physi- 
onomie rajeunie, dans un groupe monumental de tout autre carac- 
tere. A son extre'mite' occidentale ce t&ne'nos, deVelopp6 d'Est en 
Quest a travers 1'esplanade ou se projetait la saillie ge"ologique 
originate appele"e "la Te"te" (Rds = Calvaire ou Golgotha) escaladait 
1'escarpement de la collme qui dissimulait dans ses profondeurs la 
caverne se"pulcrale de Je"sus. Divers ame'nagements antiques dans 
le roc, fosse's et carrieres, accidentaient encore le sol e"trangement 
d^nivel^ sur lequel devaient maintenant trouver place des construc- 
tions grandioses et d'autre part approprie'es au culte en de popu- 
leuses ce're'monies. 

Par un proce'de' inverse au remblai de 1'inge'nieur d'Hadrien au 
IT si^cle, 1'architecte de Constantin re"alisa 1'assiette de ses Edifices 
par nivellement artificiel du rocher. En toute la zone occidentale 
du t&ne'nos, la colline fut excised jusqu'a la profondeur d'envu*on 5 
metres, pour obtenir un plan moyen continu d'un bout a 1'autre 
de 1'enceinte g6n6rale. Dans cette operation n^anmoins furent 
reserve's avec soin le mamelon saillant de la Crucifixion, r6gularis6 

12 Sur 1'existence, au sujet du Calvaire et du Saint-Se'pulcre, d'une tradition 
chre"tienne soud4e aux t&noins apostoliques et sa continuity sans hiatus appr6- 
ciable, voir Abel, Jerusalem nouvelle, p. 894-902: Vincent, V authenticity des 
Lieux Saints; Paris, 1932, p. 33 ss. 


seulement en maniere de prisme quadrangulaire, et le saint Tombeau 
laisse tout a fait intact dans son massif rocheux d6coup6 a la fayon 
d'une toiirelle. Ici se trouvait naturellement le point noble par 
excellence et comme le chef du groupe monumental a r^aliser. 

Pour lui conserver sa dignite preponderate 1'architecte envisagea 
de 1'exalter pour lui-me'me, plut6t que de 1'inclure, fut-ce a la place 
d'honneur, dans un lieu de culte du type usuel comme pouvait 
I'e'tre une basilique. Parmi les programmes vane's de 1'architecture 
religieuse antique et jusqu'a la fin des temps remains, le plan circu- 
laire avait joui d'une predilection marquee. 13 Nombre de divinites 
semblaient ne pas admettre d'autre. forme pour leurs temples; 
c'etait aussi le theme usuel des plus somptueux mausole'es, et le 
Pantheon de Rome en consacrait a la fois Pexcellence et la cel^brite". 
Comment trouver ds lors un programme d'une adaptation plus 
parfaite a la glorification du se"pulcre de Je"sus? La tourelle rocheuse 
incluant ce s^pulcre inviole* fut done sertie dans une royale parure 
entoure"e d'une galerie circulaire double, dont la colonnade lui 
faisait une couronne, et ceinte exterieurement d'une puissante 
rotonde portant haut son d6me en maniSre de diad&ne. Digne 
ecrin d'un joyau sans prix pour 1'Univers chre'tien! 

Sous le tr^s simple vocable de "Resurrection," Anastasis, la sainto 
rotonde couvrait en entier la zone occidentale du te'me'nos, avec ses 
ouvertures a 1'Orient, sur un atrium a portiques judicieusement 
preVu pour le de"gagement pratique du sanctuaire et les communica- 
tions avec le reste du groupe. A tr6s courte distance des entries 
de 1' Anastasis se dressait le prisme saillant du Calvaire, trop exigu 
pour comporter un edifice de caract&re majestueux. II s'imposait 
au surplus de sauvegarder avec scrupule sa physionomie austere, 
evoquant mieux que toute parure le drame de la Crucifixion; rien 
ne pouvait dignement couvrir cette roche sacre*e depuis qu'elle 
avait port6 la Croix de Sauveur eiev6 entre ciel et terre pour la 
Redemption du monde. Ce temoin muet devait prolonger a 
jamais son attestation stupefiante. L'architecte de genie sut la 
respecter, la mettre en meilleure evidence plut6t, en laissant surgir 
dans sa nudite 1'auguste roche, habilement adaptee au portique 
meridional de 1'atrium. Des escaliers conduisaient a la petite 

13 Sur la tholos grecque, cf . W. J. Anderson et R. Ph. Spiers, The Architecture of 
Greece and Rome, 2 d edition, p. 104 s.; A. Choisy, Histoire de 1'architecture, I, 431. 
Sur le temple circulaire remain cf. Cagnat-Chapot, Manuel d'archeologie romaine, 
I, 151 ss. 


plate-forme supe'rieure et un simple baldaquin abritait Pemplace- 
ment presume" de la Croix. 

Au double sanctuaire ainsi glorifie" pour 1'honneur du Christ et la 
consolation des fiddles qui accouraient bient6t des quatre vents du 
ciel pour ve'ne'rer les traces sanglantes et triomphales de Je"sus 
Re"dempteur, il manquait ne*anmoins encore un e" lament essentiel: 
un Edifice apte aux ce're'monies du culte liturgique. L'architecte 
lui donna la forme d'une basilique normale et spacieuse, dont 
1'implantation, dans la zone orientale du te"me"nos, pourrait bien 
avoir e*te" re"gie par un souvenir touchant, quoique n'appartenant 
pas au cycle e'vange'lique. Presque au pied du Calvaire, a POrient, 
dans une anfractuosite" rocheuse au flanc du vieux fosse" qui couvrit 
nagu&re le rempart de la ville Israelite, la Communaute" chre"tienne 
du IV si&cle croyait savoir que la Croix avait e"te" miraculeusement 
de*couverte. Pour des raisons faciles a concevoir, aux jours de Con- 
stantin, il avait du paraitre expedient de laisser dans Fombre le 
gibet, scandale des faibles et th&me de derision pour les pai'ens. 
Aussi n'apparait-il nulle part explicitement dans la description offi- 
cielle d'Eus&be. II faut noter cependant ce fait qu'au lieu de 
combler cette section genante du fosse" qui barrait transversalement 
Pesplanade, 1'architecte eut souci de la conserver en partie pour en 
faire une crypte devant le choeur de sa basilique. Une telle solu- 
tion ne suggere-t-elle pas quelque dessein de localiser discr&tement 
un souvenir qui ne tardera pas a s'affirmer au grand jour par la 
ve*ne"ration tres officielle de la Croix? 14 La basilique elle-m&ne, au 
surplus, prendra bient6t le vocable precis de Martyrion "le Temoi- 
gnage," par opposition au Calvaire et a PAnastasis. En tout cas 
et sans spe*culer sur le motif determinant de cette localisation du 
lieu de culte proprement dit, elle se justifiait aussi par 1'avantage 
de manager a l'entre*e de la basilique un nouvel atrium a colonnades 

14 Des 1'annde 347, I'eVfique Cyrille de Jerusalem, dans les discours qu'il pro- 
nonce au Martyrion ou au Calvaire, prend fre'quemment a t^moin "le bois saint 
de la Croix, paraissant parmi nous jusqu'a ce jour m&ne et dont, & cause de ceux 
qui en prennent par devotion, le monde entier est a peu pres rempli deja" (Catichbse 
I, 1-3; P. G. XXXIII, 1168 s.). Deux inscriptions latines, dont 1'une est date"e 
de 359, mentionnent des reliques de la Croix du Christ en des e'glises d'Algeiie. 
Julien 1'Apostat reprochera bientot aux Chretiens d'adorer "le bois de la Croix." 
Voir d'autres attestations dans Abel, Jerusalem nouvelle, p. 198 ss. L'e'glise 
de Jerusalem, au moins des le milieu du IV 8 siecle, estimait done etre en possession 
16gitime de la vraie Croix, bien que les modalits de sa d^couverte nous demeurent 


et une facade g^n^rale du te'me'nos, raccorde*e par un perron et 
quelques degre"s a cette colonnade centrale de la ville qu'Eus&be 
de*signait sous le nom d' "agora." 

Si 1'on veut bien embrasser maintenant d'un coup d'oeil cette 
harmonieuse et tr&s monumentale ordonnance, on se convaincra 
que 1'architecte de ge*nie la re*alisa sous une inspiration aussi pro- 
fond^ment chre'tienne qu'6trangere a tous les concepts religieux de 
Pantiquite", dont il utilisait pourtant les themes structuraux. N'est 
il pas eVident que 1'art chre*tien e*tait depuis longtemps sorti des 
langes, qu'il n'e"tait plus emprisonne" dans la servilite" d'emprunts 
maladroits ou d'adaptations he'te'roclites? Le dernier element de 
la trilogie constantinienne est de nature a faire e*clater mieux encore 
cette evidence. 

La basilique de la Nativite* du Sauveur a Bethle"em est demeure'e 
jusqu'a nos jours une sorte d'&iigme. En 1'absence de toute de- 
scription tant soit peu technique plus ou mqins contemporaine de 
ses origines, faute surtout d'avoir interroge" d'assez prs le venerable 
Edifice aujourd'hui sous nos yeux, la plupart des arche"ologues et 
historians s'accordaient a le conside*rer comme une creation con- 
stantinienne. 15 D'aucuns se persuadaient m&ne en avoir 6tabli la 
demonstration decisive par les plus savantes preuves tiroes de son 
ordonnance, du style de sa decoration, de 1'histoire de 1'art. 16 
Vainement une enquete arche"ologique minutieuse avait-elle mul- 

15 Citons en particulier, parmi les noms les plus marquants: E. Weigand, Die 
GeburtsMrche von Bethlehem; eine Untersuchung zur christlichen Antike (1911), p. 56, 
85; W. Harvey, W. R. Lethaby, 0. M. Dalton etc., The Church of the Nativity at 
Bethlehem, edited by R. Weir Schultze, 1910; J. Strzygowski, Orient oder Rom, 
1901, p. 20, 149; Kleinasien, ein Neuland der Kunstgeschichte, 1903, p. 26; Byzan- 
tinische Zeitschrift, XXI, 1912, p. 345; R. de Lasteyrie, L' architecture religieuse . . . 
ses origines . . . , 1912, p. 10; Ch. Diehl, Manuel d'art byzantin, 1910, p. 3; mais 
dans la 2 a Edition, 1925, est admis le remaniement par Justinien; A. Baumstark, 
Palestinensia, 1906, p. 8 s.; Leclercq, Dictionnaire d'archeol. chrt., II, 828, s. v 
BethUem; C. Watzinger, Denkmaler Palastinas, II, 1935, p. 120 ss. Et combien 

18 En particulier M. Edm. Weigand, Zeitschrift d. deut. Pal. Vereins, XXXVIII, 
1915, p. 89-135; XLVI, 1923, p. 193-212. Corroborant sa "demonstration" 
d'unite 1 absolue dans la structure actuelle par I'autorit6 de M. Watzinger, M. 
Weigand se persuadait que la these du remaniement ne pourrait jamais e"tre 
prouv6e (p. 212). M. Watzinger de son c6t6 proclamait volontiers la d6monstra- 
tion de Weigand "convaincante iiberzeugende" (Orientalistische Liter aturzeitung, 
1934, col. 623). Les faits arche'ologiques ne devaient guere justifier la confiance 
des deux savants historiens de 1'art. . . . 


tiplie" naguere les objections centre 1'unite" structurale et groupe" les 
indices concrets d'un remaniement profond au cours du VI* 
siecle, correspondant du reste aux donne'es historiques explicites, 17 
le de"bat menagait de s'e"terniser. D'autant que le seul examen 
superficiel, me'me le plus attentif , demeurait impuissant a reconsti- 
tuer avec se'curite' 1'ordonnance constantinienne oblite're'e. Des 
sondages ne'cessite's par le projet d'une consolidation qui s'impose 
avec urgence viennent de re"soudre I'e'nigme et d'attester une ordon- 
nance primitive originate autant qu'impre'vue. 18 

De me'me qu'au Mont des Oliviers, le lieu saint unique e"tait ici 
constitue" par la caverne sainte, creuse"e dans le plus haut escarpe- 
ment oriental de la colline que couronne Bethle'em. Une aussi 
frappante analogic des donne'es locales pouvait done sugge"rer tr&s 
spontan&nent un programme structural identique: 1'adaptation de 
la caverne en crypte sous le choeur d'une basilique usuelle, ais&nent 
dilatable sur la plate-forme supe'rieure. Singulierement plus monu- 
mentale et plus glorieuse pour le berceau de Je"sus fut la solution de 
1'architecte constantinien. Au lieu de voiler encore 1'humilite' du 
sanctuaire en le dissimulant sous un Edifice cultuel envisage pour 
sa glorification, il congut le dessein hardi de 1'exalter au me'me 
titre et presque sous la me'me forme triomphale que le Saint- 
Se*pulcre a Jerusalem. II ententfait que cette autre caverne sacre"e 
fut directement a 1'honneur et resplendlt aux regards 6mus de la 

Dans ce but, il en fit le centre d'un Edifice octogonal de propor- 
tions moindres que la rotonde du Saint-Se'pulcre, assez amples 
cependant encore pour constituer un e*crin magnifique a cet ines- 
timable joyau. Pas un support int&ieur ne morcellerait la per- 
spective dans ce noble Edifice, qui surgissait d'un seul jet pour 
supporter, a la fagon d'un diademe, son d6me conique ajoure" sur 
le ciel par une lanterne ^ claire-voie. Par un artifice inge'nieux, le 
sol releve" dans une succession concentrique de gradins octogonaux 
faisait converger les pas du visiteur, comme en une symbolique 

17 Vincent-Abel, BethUem, Le Sanctuaire de la Nativity, 1914. 

18 Cf . W. Harvey, Structural Survey of the Church of the Nativity, Bethlehem; 
London, Oxford, 1935;. Id., The Early Basilica at Bethlehem, dans Pal. Explor. 
Fund's Quart. Stat., 1936, p. 28-33; E. T. Richmond, Basilica of the Nativity. 
Discovery of the remains of an earlier Church, dans The Quart, of the Depart, of 
Antiq. in Palestine, V, 1936, p. 75-81; Vincent, La basilique de la Nativity . . . 
d'apres lesfouilles recentes, dans Comptes rendus de I'Acad. des Inscr. et Bel.-Lettres, 
1935, p. 350 ss. Cf. Rev. Bibl, 1936, p. 544 ss.; 1937, p. 93 ss. 


ascension, vers le milieu du monument, jusqu'au parapet d'un ample 
orifice couronne* par un baldaquin me'tallique et b6ant sur 1'autel 
m&ne qui consacrait le souvenir de la Nativite" du Sauveur. Ce 
souvenir a lui seul emplissait tout, absorbait tout dans le somptueux 
monument octogonal. Comme par une transposition de la pense*e 
religieuse antique, ce temple paraissait excellemment une demeure 
divine; non plus re*serve"e toutefois avec un exclusivisme jaloux a 
rintimite" du dieu, mais accessible a ses fideles, suivant le concept 
elargi du temple de la foi nouvelle. Sans perdre le caractere initial 
qui lui donnait son plus grand prix, la caverne sainte devenait 
ainsi le veritable centre du culte, on dirait le choeur dans une 4glise 

II fallait encore a ce monument cultuel un complement indis- 
pensable, adapts aux reunions liturgiques. L'architecte Fenvisagea 
comme au Saint-Se"pulcre, sous la forme d'un ample vaisseau basilical 
a cinq nefs, mais cette fois soude* directement a 1'octogone qui 
faisait fonction de choeur. Un tr&s spacieux atrium a portiques 
fut dilate devant la facade pour abriter la multitude pieuse des 
pelerins p&iodiquement accourus au sanctuaire, et une annexe 
baptismale en comple"ta 1'installation. 

Ce n'est pas le lieu de retracer les vicissitudes du monument, 
saccage* dans 1'insurrection samaritaine a la fin du V sifccle et 
restaure* quelque temps apr&s par la munificence de Justinien, sous 
la forme profonde"ment remanie'e qu'il a conserved jusqu'a nos 
jours. Mais 1'ordonnance constantinienne de*sormais reconquise ne 
met-elle pas, une fois de plus, dans un relief saisissant 1'autonomie 
re*elle, comme la puissante vitalite* de 1'architecture chre'tienne d^s 
le IV' siecle? Entre les trois groupes monumentaux qui glorifierent 
les Lieux Saints eVangeliques essentiels, une indiscutable analogic 
fondamentale s'alliait aux plus souples et ing6nieuses variations 
techniques. Tributakes de 1'art antique, c'est bien entendu, les 
architectes chr^tiens n'en subirent nullement 1'esclavage rigide et 
prolong^ que nombre d'historiens pr^conisent volontiers encore. 19 

19 La question avait 6t6 pos6e d4ja sur son plan correct par Ludwig von Sybel, 
Christliche Antike; Einfiihrung in die altchr. Kunst, II, 1909, p. 265 ss. Au lieu 
d'opposer Part chre'tien a 1'art antique et 1'architecture chr^tienne a celle de 
I'antiquit6 comme une "fille" a sa mere, il estimait que 1'architecture chr6tienne 
6tait un prolongement de 1'antique, avec un souffle nouveau lui permettant de 
de"velopper "ce qui subsistait encore d'&iergie cr^atrice dans le domains artistique" 
(op. laud., p. 282). Von Sybel ne pouvait preVoir les pr6cieuses d6couvertes du 
quart de siecle suivant. 


Bien avant le triomphe officiel du Christianisme, leur art, inspir 
par les exigences tres conscientes de leur foi sut cre"er d'harmonieux 
programmes nouveaux. Et quand le premier empereur chre'tien 
souhaita de les voir glorifier le berceau de la Foi, par des monuments 
capables de rivaliser avec les creations antiques, ils se revelerent 
en mesure de ne pas de"cevoir ses esperances. 

L'architecture chr6tienne, d4sormais autonome, riche de seve 
nouvelle, allait s'acheminer vers un glorieux avenir. 


Harvard University 

The origin of the early Muslim sects is still a moot question. 
Scholars such as Marracci, 1 Pocock, 48 Sale, 3 and even de Sacy, 4 who 
wrote before the middle of the nineteenth century, discussed sec- 
tarianism in Islam from a strictly theological point of view and 
based their discussion for the most part on two authorities, al- 
Shahristani 6 and al-Jurjani. 6 They described and classified the 
sects, after the manner of then* sources, according to then: di- 
vergences from the chief doctrines of orthodox Islam. The Shi'ites 
and the Kharijites were heretical because of their peculiar opinions 
upon the Caliphate, and the Kharijites and the Murji'ites hi virtue 
of then* singular beliefs concerning the true constitution of faith 
or religion and the relation of belief and works thereto. The Qada- 
rites and Mu'tazilites were schismatics because of then- champion- 
ship of the doctrine of free-will, and the latter also hi virtue of their 
advocacy of unorthodox notions of God's nature. The ruling genius 
of such judgments and classifications is heresiography, not history. 

From the middle of the nineteenth century a different spirit has 
inspired Western students' discussion of the Muslim sects. The 
studies of such scholars as von Kremer, 7 Wellhausen, 8 Goldziher, 9 

1 L. Marracci: Akorani textus universus etc. (1698), Prodromus 111. 

2 Edw. Pocock: Specimen Mstoriae Arabum etc. (1650). 

3 G. Sale : The Preliminary Discourse to his translation of the Koran. 

4 A. I. Silvestre de Sacy: Expos6 de la religion des Druzes, Introduction. 
6 His Kitab al Milal wa'l-Nihal. 

6 The Mawaqif of al-Iji with al-Jurjani's commentary. See Soerensen's edition 
of Statio Quinta et Sexta (1848). 

7 Alfred von Kremer: Cutturgeschichte des Orients unter den Chalifen; Geschichte 
der herrschenden Ideen des Islams. 

8 J. Wellhausen: Dos arabische Reich und sein Sturz; Skizzen und Vorarbeiten, 
VI; Die religios-politischen Oppositionsparteien im alien Islam. 

9 1. Goldziher: Vork&ungen fiber den Islam. 



van Vloten, 10 Lammens 11 and Macdonald 12 have thrown a wealth 
of light upon the character of the young Muslim community and 
upon the political, social, and economic forces that influenced it; 
and the sectarian development of this early period is no longer 
portrayed as an isolated, unconditioned, religious phenomenon, but 
has taken its place as an integral part of a single historical move- 
ment, i In this movement the early sects played many and vari- 
ous r61es. 

Sometimes they exhibit the features of political partisans, some- 
times, the traits of social reformers, and again they are crusaders 
for economic justice. Here they appear as interpreters of the law, 
there as exponents of some theological doctrine, and again they 
are followers of gospels and prophets. All sorts of motives inspire 
and shape the course of their development, and probably their 
beginnings were also actuated by very mixed motives. To deter- 
mine their origins, however, within the historical complex requires 
not only a recognition of their essential nature as sects and of the 
characteristic motives of sects in general and these Islamic sects 
in particular, but also a consideration of the sources from which 
the early Muslims drew the issues that led to the formation of sects 
within their community. 

Most recent studies have emphasized the political and economical 
factors accompanying the beginnings of the early Muslim sects. 
The three principal early sects, the Shi'ites, Kharijites, and Murji'- 
ites, were all involved in the partisan struggle for the Caliphate 
which broke out after the murder of the third Caliph (the Umayyad, 
'Uthman) 18 and the first phase of which ended with the consolida- 
tion of the Muslim empire under the Umayyad, 'Abd al-Malik. 
During this period of about forty years the Arabs of Syria, Iraq, 
and the Hijaz, with its cities of pious memory, Mecca and Medina, 
were engaged in a triangular contest with each other for control 
of the dominions conquered by the three first successors of the 
Prophet. The Syrians, in general, espoused the cause of the 

10 G. van Vloten: Recherches sur la domination ardbe, le chilsm, et les croyances 
messianiques sous le Khalifat des Ommayades. 

11 H. Lammens: Etudes sur k regne du Calif e Omaiyade, Mo'awa l er ; Le Calif at de 
Yazid l flr ; Uavenement des Marwanides et le Calif at de Marwan l w (Melanges 
de la faculte* orientale, Universite* Saint-Joseph, Beyrouth, vols. I, II, III, IV, 

12 D. B. Macdonald: Development of Muslim . . . Theology. 

18 See Tabari (ed. de Goeje) I, 3008 ff. 



Umayyads, Meccan aristocrats from pagan times. The Hijaz fa- 
voured the younger Muslim aristocracy consisting of the oldest and 
closest companions of the Prophet and their descendants. Iraq 
seems to have been first and foremost anti-Syrian and anti-Umay- 
yad, supporting the fourth Caliph, 'Ali, and his heirs, or any other 
leader who raised the standard of revolt against the "House of 
the Curse," the Umayyads of Damascus. 

The political affiliations of the three aforesaid sects are fairly 
clear. The Shi'ites were fervent adherents of the claims of the 
descendants of 'Ali, the Prophet's son-in-law, to the Caliphate, and 
fanatical opponents of the Umayyads. Then 1 chief centre was Kufa 
hi Iraq. The Kharijites were also bitter enemies of the Umayyad 
dynasty, but their hatred of the 'Alids was just as fierce and en- 
during. Basra was their centre at first, but they spread to Arabia, 
Persia, and Mesopotamia. The Murji'ites were on the whole 
either favourable to the Umayyads, or neutral hi their sentiments. 

In his Vorlesungen, 1 * therefore, Goldziher seeks to demonstrate 
that the origin of the Murji'ites must be sought in their concern 
for the interests of the Muslim state which demanded, in their 
view, an immediate liquidation of the dynastic question along prac- 
tical lines and loyalty to, or at least sufferance of, the Umayyad 
Caliphs as de facto rulers. Essentially and originally, therefore, 
they were a loyalist party supporting the reigning house against 
'Alid pretenders and their Shi'ite followers. The originating and 
determining motive of the party was a political one, and its empha- 
sis on the dogmatic evaluation of the influence of works and belief 
upon salvation was a later development. In the beginning it was 
a political party, not a religious sect. 

In his Recherches sur la domination ardbe etc. 15 van Vloten is still 
more dogmatic and general than Goldziher and claims a political 
origin for all three sects. They were, in his opinion, simply political 
parties pursuing purely political ends up to the last decade of the 
seventh century, when their political hopes and aspirations were 
finally blasted in the days of the Umayyad Caliph, 'Abd al-Malik. 
Only then, and not till then, did they assume a religious character 
and turn their attention to social and religious questions. In the 
beginning their motives and ends were political, not religious. 

The evolution of political parties into religious sects may seem 

14 Vorlesungen p. 87 ff. 
16 Of. especially pp. 34-38. 


a strange phenomenon; but it is not an impossible one, if one con- 
siders the essential nature of Islam. For as Sir Mohammed Iqbal 
has said, 16 "In Islam it is the same reality which appears as Church 
looked at from one point of view, and State from another. It is 
not true to say that Church and State are two sides or facets of 
the same thing. Islam is a simple -and indivisible reality, which 
is one or other, as your point of view varies." And again, ''The 
state according to Islam is only an effort to realize the spiritual in 
a human organization." 

This picture of Islam is, of course, an ideal one. Nevertheless 
the separation of Church and State has never been formally recog- 
nized hi Islam, at least up to our own days. 17 Islam is the Com- 
munity (Ummah) of Allah, and the bond of unity is the Faith. 
The power of Allah pervades every function of the state, and Justice, 
Finance and War are just as sacred offices as Divine Service. To 
be a Muslim has meant to be at the same tune and by the same 
token a citizen of the State and a member of the Church, and 
vice-versa, to be a heretic is equivalent to being a rebel. 17 " What 
we think of as two relationships is for the Muslim one. 

The very nature of Islam, therefore, raises a reasonable doubt 
about the original political character of the early sects. It is true 
that the occasion of then* first appearance hi history bears for us 
the hall-mark of a political issue, for undoubtedly it was then- stand 
on the question of the succession to the Caliphate that first brought 
them into active and organized opposition to duly constituted 
authority. Muslim authorities are agreed on this point, and the 
scheme of their presentation of the events that led up to the rise 
of the sects is invariably the same. Some merely develope the 
scheme somewhat further than others. 

The conception of Islam which lies behind the scheme has already 
been delineated in the words of Sir Mohammed Iqbal. Islam is 
presented as God's will for man, a divinely instituted order for the 
regulation of every human activity, secular and religious. By 
virtue, therefore, of its very origin and nature Islam is universal 

16 The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam, pp. 146 and 147. 

17 Compare, however, the studies of Sir T. W. Arnold, Snouck Hurgronje, Ali 
Abd al-Razck, and Muhammed Barakatulla on the Caliphate. See also J. Horovitz 
in Der Islam, XV (1926). Rachid Rida, Le Calif at. 

17a Cf. the use of the words, Kharij and mariq. 


and a formal unity. Its temporal unity, however, was broken in 
the first instance by dissensions over the question of authority or 
succession to the leadership of the order, which were the occasion 
of the rise of the early sects, and, in the second place, by the intro- 
duction into the pure doctrine of Islam of false notions from alien 
philosophies. At this point arose the later sects, such as the Qada- 
rjtes and the Mu'tazilites. 18 

The actual historical occasion for the outbreak of civil war in 
Islam over the Caliphate question was the murder of the third 
Caliph. 19 'Uthman is usually described as a good and pious man 
but a weak ruler, whose exalted position was used by his Umayyad 
kinsmen to acquire for themselves wealth, power, and office. His 
elevation to the Caliphate was apparently a compromise between 
the contending factions of the Prophet's son-in-law 'Ali on the one 
hand, and of the two old companions of the Prophet, Talha and 
al-Zubayr, supported by the Prophet's favourite wife and the first 
Caliph's Daughter, 'A'isha, on the other. Both factions evidently 
imagined that they could gain their ends through 'Uthman, but 
his nepotism disillusioned them and their ensuing intrigues against 
him were at least the indirect cause of his murder. And at his 
death their rivalry flared into civil war, wherein 'Ali was at first 
the victor. The Umayyads, however, led by the astute and politic 
governor of Syria, Mu'awiya, entered the lists and bore off the prize 
of the Caliphate. In these circumstances the early sects were born. 

The Imamite heresiographer al-Naubakhti, whose influence was 
chiefly responsible for the adoption of Mu'tazilite doctrines by the 
Shi'ite Imamites, gives a good re'sume' of Muslim historical tradi- 
tion. 20 He begins his account of the sects with the death of the 
Prophet, a starting-point which is logically sound and historically 
defensible if the Muslim conception of Islam be granted. His 
statement runs, briefly, as follows: 

On Mohammed's death the Muslim community split into three 
parties on the question of a successor to the prophet, (1) the Shi'ah 

18 See Die dogmatischen Lehren der Anhaenger des Islams of al-Ash'ari, edited by 
H. Ritter (Bibliotheca Islamica la, p. 3, 1. 13 ff.; Shahristani (ed. Cureton), p. 5, 
1. 14 ff.; Die Sekten der Schi'a of al-Naubakhti edited by H. Ritter (Bibliotheca 
Islamica 4), p. 1 ff. 

"Tabaril, 3008 ff. 

20 Die Sekten der Schi'a, p. 1 ff . 


which was the party of 'All, 21 (2) the Ansars or Medinans who 
proposed one of their own number, Sa'd b. 'Ibadah al-Khazraji, 
and (3) the party of Abu Bakr, the first Caliph. The Ansars finally 
accepted Abu Bakr, except for a few who remained loyal to Sa'd, 
who was later killed in the Hauran. 

An unidentified party, however, seceded from Abu Bakr and 
said: "We will not give the poor-rates to him until we know for 
certain to whom the command belongs and whom the Prophet has 
chosen as successor." 22 

Abu Bakr had no sooner assumed the Caliphate than most of 
the Arab tribes, and particularly the powerful Hanifah tribe, re- 
volted. The rebellion was promptly put down, whereupon the 
tribes returned to the fold of Islam and were named the Ahl al- 
Ridda (the Apostates). But "They did not cease to act together 
as a unit until they took vengeance on 'Uthman." 23 

The Muslim community then divided into three parties. The 
first was the party of 'Ali, now chosen as the fourth Caliph. The 
second was composed of such men as Sa'd b. Abi-Waqqa? and 
'Abdullah, the son of the second Caliph 'Umar, who accepted 'Ali's 
caliphate but refused to fight either for or against him. They were 
named Mu'tazilites and were the fore-runners of all who bear that 
name. 24 The third party was that of Talha and al-Zubayr. They 
rebelled against 'Ali, after swearing allegiance to him, and were 
defeated at the battle of the Camel, hi which both of them were 

Some of then* party, however, escaped and fled to the Umayyad 
governor of Syria, Mu'awiya; and the Syrians sided with them and 
opposed 'Ali, demanding revenge for 'Uthman and holding 'Ali and 
his followers responsible for his blood. The armies of 'Ali and 

21 The existence of 'All's party at the death of the prophet is a fundamental 
part of Shi'ite tradition. It should be observed that nothing further is known 
about it. 

22 A principle later applied by the Kharijites to the question of the observance 
of the law. Cf. also the positions of the Murj'ites and Mu'tazilites on Sinners. 

23 Thus freeing 'Ali from implication in Uthman's murder. Note the Shi'ite 

24 A statement that supports the judgment of Ahmed Amin of Cairo, that the 
name, Mu'tazilite, had a political origin, and is to be explained by the neutrality 
of such persons. (Actes du XVIII e Congrbs des Orientalistes, Leiden, 1932, 224.) 
The idea had already been advanced by 'Lammens in his work on' Ta'if at the 
time of the Hijrah, p. 279. Cf. his Mo'awia, p. 119 ff. 


Mu'awiya met at Biffin on the Euphrates, and the day was prac- 
tically decided in 'Ali's favour, when Mu'awiya proposed that the 
issue between them should be settled 'not by spilling the blood of 
Muslims but by an appeal to the Koran. 'Ali's own followers 
forced him to accept his rival's insidious proposal and to forego the 
victory. He and Mu'awiya appointed two arbitrators to adjudge 
the dispute. 

A party of 'Ali's followers thereupon rebelled and opposed him 
because of his acceptance of the adjudication of the question at 
the hands of the two arbitrators. They said: "The judgment be- 
longs to God alone," and they accused 'All of unbelief, and repu- 
diated him. These were the Kharijites. 25 

'Ali was murdered, and at his death his party and that of Talha 
and al-Zubayr joined with the followers of Mu'awiya and formed 
one party. Only a few of 'Ali's party (Shi 'ah) and those who 
held that he should have succeeded the Prophet as Imam or leader 
of the Muslim community remained aloof. Mu'awiya's Party con- 
sisted of the generality of Muslims, the masses, the followers of 
kings and the supporters of conquerors. They were named hi toto 
Murji'ites because they were conciliatory towards then 1 opponents 
and believed that all who prayed towards Mecca were believ- 
ers, if they confessed formally and hoped for the forgiveness of 
them all. 

The moderately Shi'ite tendency of al-Naubakhti's account is 
transparent; and the fact that the Muslim tradition pushes back 
the origins of sectarianism hi Islam to the death of the Prophet is 
probably also due to Shi'ite influence. For in Shi'ite eyes sects 
began with the rejection of 'Ali's just claim to the leadership of 
the Muslim community after the death of the Prophet, and there 
is a consistent Shi'ite tinge hi the Muslim histories of the 'Abbasid 
period. 26 

Al-Naubakhti's narrative, however, has been quoted at such 
length hi order to point out a peculiarity that is general to Muslim 
discussions of the early sects. No distinctions are drawn by al- 
Naubakhti between the various parties mentioned by him, and the 
same name (Firqah) is applied to them all. The party of Abu 
Bakr, the Ansars, and the Ahl al-Ridda (Apostates), the parties of 

25 See Tabari I, pp. 3256, 3329, 3341,. 3353, 3381. 

26 Of., for example, Tabari II, p. 1 ff. 


'All, of Talha and al-Zubayr, and of Mu'awiya, the so-called Mu- 
'tazilites of 'All's reign, the Kharijites, and the Murji'ites, are all 
put into the same category on the ground that they all have a 
common characteristic namely, some relation to the question of 
the Caliphate. And only once in al-Naubakhti do we catch a 
glimpse of what kind of a relation it may have been, and that is 
his reference to the reason given by the Kharijites for their rejec- 
tion of 'Ali's Caliphate. 

The motives of the various parties may have been political, eco- 
nomic, social, or religious, or some of these, or all of them together. 
There is little enough evidence on which to base an opinion one way 
or the other, and a general scepticism about the influence of social 
or religious ideas on the origin and development of most of the 
parties named is probably justified. The originating and deter- 
mining motives for the formation of the majority of them were 
political. But are there exceptions? 

The nature of Islam has already been discussed, and it will be 
obvious from that discussion that the Caliphate had a religious as 
well as a political significance. The most striking evidence for this 
is the judgment of Muslim historical tradition on the character of 
the Umayyad dynasty and its condemnation of it as inimical to 
religion, although, as Goldziher has pointed out, the Umayyads 
were hot irreligious according to the standards of their times. 27 
It is possible, therefore, that the relation of some of these early 
Muslim parties to the Caliphate question may have been inspired 
by distinctively religious motives and ideas, from a milieu saturated 
with a religious rather than a political and partisan spirit. 

A distinction must be drawn, however, between the first appear- 
ance of ideas within the Muslim community and the rise of sects 
embodying these ideas. The essential Shi'ite doctrines, for ex- 
ample belief in the hereditary nature of the Imamate or headship 
of Islam and faith in the prophetic and messianic character of the 
Imam are found in Muslim circles very early, apparently among 
contemporaries of the Caliph 'Ali and certainly in the following 
generation. 28 'Abdullah b. Saba, a contemporary of 'Ali, is said 
to have based .'Ali's right to the Caliphate on the fact that he was 
a member of the prophetic family and also to have believed in the 

27 Vorlesungen, pp. 49 and 83. 

28 See I. Friedlaender, The Heterodoxies of the Shi'ites, Journal of the American 
Oriental Society, vol. 29, p. 33 ff. 


"Return," or Parousia, of Muhammed, 29 another distinctively 
Shi'ite doctrine, but generally associated with 'Ali, or his son, Mu- 
hammed b. al-Hanafiyyah. These ideas form the substance of the 
belief of the Kaisanite sect, which was the heart and core of the 
Shi'ite rebellion in Kufa under Mukhtar in the days of 'Abd al- 
Malik and his rival Caliph 'Abdullah b. al-Zubayr in the nineties 
of the seventh century. 80 

Such ideas were in the air at the time. They are embodied not 
only in the verses of Shi'ite poets such as al-Sayyid al-Himyari and 
Kuthayyir, 31 but also, as Goldziher has indicated, in the panegyrics 
in praise of the Umayyads sung by such typical Arab bravoes 
as Jarir and Farazdaq. 32 The latter salutes 'Abd al-Malik as the 
Imam, who has been given the gift of prophecy. 33 Of Yazid b. 
'Abd al-Malik he says that "If the prophets, the possessors of 
wisdom, had lived at the same tune as he, they would have recog- 
nized in him the lord, to whom belonged the royal power." 34 Walid 
b. 'Abd al-Malik is the shepherd of God, on whom the beginning 
and end of every event depend. 35 Sulayman is the Mahdi, who 
has burst asunder the chains of calamity, and the guide toward 
the goal. 36 Hisham is the light which guides every rightly guided 
one to the true guidance. 37 'Uthman's blood is holy blood. 38 

We may doubt with Goldziher that Farazdaq or Jarir really 
meant what their words seem to convey. Their verses, however, 
are still evidence of the prevalence of these ideas in their time, and 
probably also of a convinced belief in them in some Muslim circles. 
The question is, what was the composition of such circles? 

Al-Naubakhti informs us that after 'Ali's death his followers 
went over to Mu'awiya and joined his party, "except a few and 
those who believed that he should have succeeded the prophet as 
Imam." The only construction that can be put upon his-statement 

29 See Friedlaender and cf. Tabari I, p. 2941. 

30 Cf. Friedlaender, p. 34; Tabari II, p. 651; Wellhausen's Oppositionsparteien, 
p. 89, note. 

31 Cf . the Kitab al-Aghani VII, 4 and VIII, 32. 

32 Vorlesungen, p. 267, 12. 1. 

33 R. Boucher, Diwan de Ftrazdak (Paris, 1870-75), No. CCXXIV, text, p. 208, 
4 ff., esp. 11. 15 and 16; trans, p. 624, last ff. 

84 Ibid., CXCIV, text, p. 184, 14; trans, p. 552, 21. 

36 Ibid., CCXXVIII, text, p. 219, 8-11; trans, p. 653, 14 ff. 

36 Ibid., VIII, text, p. 14, 12; 16, 15; trans. 29, 16; 32, 1. 

37 Ibid., CXCVI, text p. 186, 1 ; trans, p. 557, 12. 

38 Ibid., XCII, text p. 108, 8; trans, p. 287, 3. 


is that the great majority of 'All's political partisans deserted his 
family's cause. It is probable, indeed, that they had never sub- 
scribed to that cause, nor even heard of it. Their loyalty to 'Ali 
was a personal relationship, which ended with his death in true 
Arab fashion. The cause of his family lived on, if anywhere, in a 
narrow circle inspired by the belief in his just claim to the Imamate 
in succession to the prophet, and in the hearts of a few political 

The history of the so-called Shi'ite rebellions in Iraq in the days 
of Mu'awiya, Yazid I and 'Abd al-Malik, bear out the general 
statement of al-Naubakhti. In the reign of Mu'awiya, Hujr b. 
'Adi, a chief of Kinda, rebelled in Kufa, and all the tribes of Iraq 
seem to have been represented in his army. 39 Wellhausen's judg- 
ment, that it was an Arab tribal movement directed against Syrian 
overlordship, is probably correct. 40 Hujr was deserted by his kins- 
men, a fate that befell most Iraqian rebels, and put to death. 
He is claimed as the first Shi'ite martyr, 41 but this interpretation of 
his death is hi all likelihood a product of Shi'ite martyrology. 

In the reign of Yazid I the second son of 'Ali, Husayn, was in- 
vited by some of the leading men of Kufa to come and lead them 
against the Syrians. The plot was discovered, however, before he 
had left Mecca, and the Kufans confounded and overawed by a 
change of governor and the stern measures adopted by the new 
emir. And when finally Husayn came, they remained pusillani- 
mously passive and left him to his fate. 42 

After Husayn's death a companion of the Prophet, Sulayman b. 
$urad, rose in rebellion. His followers were Arabs, but only four 
thousand rallied to his banner, where sixteen thousand had been 
expected. They marched to Kerbela and wept over the grave of 
Husayn one whole day, then preceded to Resaina, where they were 
met and defeated by two Syrian corps. The Barians and Medinans 
came up too late. They wept together and went their ways. 43 

These revolts were Arab, not only in complement but also in 

39 Cf. Tabari II, pp. 111-136. 

40 Oppositionsparteien, p. 60. 

41 Ibid., p. 60. Cf. K. al-Aghani, vol. XVI, pp. 3-4; ibn al-Athir, vol. Ill, 
392 ff. 

42 Tabari II, pp. 227 ff.; Kerbela, p. 271. 

43 Ibid., pp. 497 ff., and 598 ff. Wellhausen thinks that the motive of the 
rising was revenge for Husayn, a real Arab motive (Oppositionsparteien, 72). 


motive and character partisan rebellions inspired by tribal and 
local jealousy and exhibiting the old Arab practice of warriors de- 
voting themselves at the grave of a tribal hero. 44 The rising led by 
al-Mukhtar b. Abi 'Ubayd in the days of 'Abd al-Malik presents a 
very different picture. 46 

Mukhtar claimed to be the authoritative representative and 
agent of 'Ali's son, Muhammed b. al-Hanafiyyah, whom he pro- 
claimed to be the Mahdi (Messiah). 46 He took Kufa and for a 
short period he controlled it and the district around it, supported 
by a clever and powerful Madhhij chief, Ibrahim b. al-Ashtar. 
Many clients (non-Arabs) flocked to his standard, and their chief 
was Kaisan, after whom the Kaisanite sect of the Shi'ites is probably 
named. Mukhtar's favourable attitude towards the clients and his 
grants to them of pay and a share of the booty seem to have an- 
noyed and angered his Arab supporters. 47 They deserted him. 
Even Ibrahim b. al-Ashtar made his peace finally with 'Abdullah 
b. al-Zubayr, and Mukhtar fell fighting, another victim of Arab 

In his rebellion, however, is to be observed for the first time the 
use of peculiar Shi'ite doctrines as propaganda material. Muham- 
med b. al-Hanafiyyah is the Mahdi, and 'Ali appears to have been 
deified. .For the first time also, the clients (non-Arabs) take an 
important part in a Muslim movement, and among them the first 
real Shi'ite sect seems to have had its origin, v These were the 
Kaisanites, some of whom refused to believe hi the death of Mu- 
hammed b. al-Hanafiyyah and held that he lay hidden in the moun- 
tains of Radwa, whence he would return to this world. 48 

Friedlaender has pointed out the Shi'ite tendency to pattern the 
image of the Mahdi after that of Jesus and the biography of 'Ali 
after that of Joshua, the helpmate and successor of Moses. 49 He 
has also shown that the Shi'ite doctrines of the Mahdi and his 

44 The Kharijite sect, the Sufriyya, never rebelled without first cutting their 
hair at the grave of their old leader, Salih; Cf . Tabari II, p. 1147, 6 ff.; ibn Qutayba's 
Kitab al-Ma'arif (ed. Wustenfeld), p. 209. 

46 Tabari II, 509 ff., 595 ff. 

46 Ibid. 534. 

47 Ibid. 650. 

48 Cf. Friedlaender as cited, p. 23. Cf. Boucher's Diwan de F&razdak, no. 
CXXIV, p. 631, 3 ff ; also CXLVII, p. 427-6. 

49 Ibid. 36 and 46. 


"Return" are rooted in the Jewish-Christian complex of the mes- 
sianic idea and Christian docetism. 60 He might have added to these 
the Pseudo-Clementinian idea of the True Prophet who appears at 
intervals in history. 51 The provenance of such notions is quite ob- 
vious and the character and composition of the Muslim circles, to 
whom first they gave Me and substance, can be inferred with some 
degree of probability from the data at our command. 

In these circles the Shi'ite sect probably had its origin hi the days 
of 'Abd al-Malik, and it is a mistake to look for any close connection 
between the political party of 'Ali and the sectaries, who, in the 
words of a Kharijite preacher, 62 "place their faith hi an Arab family 
and hold that their client-relation to their patrons raises them 
above and beyond good works and saves them from the punish- 
ment of their misdeeds." Even the few who remained faithful to 
'Ali had probably no stomach for such ideas. 

The relation of the Kharijites to the Caliphate question is simple. 
They rejected 'Ali, because he submitted the issue between himself 
and Mu'awiya to the judgment of man instead of to God, by agree- 
ing to the appointment of two arbitrators to settle the matter; 
they rejected the Umayyads because they were sinners and rebels 
against a duly constituted authority. They also repudiated many 
of their own chosen leaders for the same reasons. 

They may have been Beduins, as Brunnow suggests, 68 or Ahl 
al-Ridda, the rebellious tribes of Abu Bakr's days, as Wellhausen 
maintains. 64 Then* objection to the arbitration may have been, as 
Nallino says, 66 that the result of the arbitration was quite different 
from what they had expected and did not exonerate those who had 
been implicated hi the murder of 'Uthman, and then* appeal to 
the judgment of God, therefore, an excuse rather than a principle. 
The fact remains that that appeal was and still is the essence of 
the Kharijite faith. 

Wellhausen says that the Kharijites stood determined for "Din" 
(religion) against the "Jama 'ah," the agreement and unity of the 

60 Ibid. 23 ff. 

61 Ibid. 34. 

62 The Yemenite Abu Hamza. Cf . the Kitab al-Aghani, vol. 20, 107. Of. 
also the letter of the Caliph Hisham, Tabari I, 1682, 5. 

63 R. E. Brunnow; Die Charidschiten (Leiden, 1884), p. 26. 

64 Oppositionsparteien, p. 9. 

56 Rivista degli studi orientali 7. 1 (1916) pp. 455-460. 


Muslim community; 56 and to determine what "Din" meant for the 
Kharijites is to answer in some measure the question of their origin. 

Al-Ash'ari tells us 57 that the Kharijites were not only unanimous 
hi declaring the Caliph 'Ali to be an unbeliever because of his 
acceptance of arbitration, but were also of one mind, with -the 
exception of the Najdiyya, on the point that to commit a mortal 
sin is unbelief. The history of the internal development of the 
sect consists of a series of excommunications pronounced by Khari- 
jite upon Kharijite on the ground that a mortal error had been 
committed. 68 

The conception of religion behind this dogma and these excom- 
munications is plain. If the Kharijites had been Christians of the 
first century A.D. they would have been called Judaizers. Religion 
for them is obedience to a divinely revealed law. It is knowledge 
of that law and performance of every duty imposed by it. Every 
"obedience" (ta'a, "duty") is religion, and each and every duty 
is essential, as essential as belief hi God and his prophet. Some 
of the Kharijites modify hi part this definitive dogma. It remains 
nevertheless the fount of Kharijite thought and action. 

Kharijitism, therefore, is one of the purest examples of a revela- 
tion religion, and the influences that stamped Muslim minds to 
this religious mould should be apparent. Moreover an examination 
of the records of Kharijite revolts shows that the followers of the 
various Kharijite chiefs were not only Arabs, but in great measure 
also non-Arabs: freedmen, dyers, smiths, and ragamuffins, "slaves" 
as Muhallab b. Abi $ufra named them, Christians, and Persians. 59 
The little band of Arab insurgents that faced 'Ali and his troops 
at Nahrawan, perished almost to a man, 60 and Kharijite ranks 
thereafter, except perhaps in Arabia, were filled with many a non- 
Arab. The Arabian risings were in the East and South, classical 
lands of Christian and Jewish influence. 

[Kharijitism, therefore, reveals itself, even in its relation to the 
Caliphate question, as a movement inspired and shaped by a certain 
form of religious belief, the genesis of which must be sought pri- 

56 Oppositionsparteien, p. 14. 

57 Cf . Die dogmatischen Lehren etc. (ed. H. Ritter)Ia, p. 86 ff . 

88 Cf ., for example, the history of the Najdiyya, ibid., p. 89, 14 ff. 
69 Cf . my essay on Kharijitism and the Kharijites in The Macdonald Presenta- 
tion Volume, Princeton University Press, 1933, p. 378. 
60 TabariI, 3381. 


marily in Jewish-influenced Muslim circles. That Jewish influ- 
ences were strong in early Islam is attested by the Koran itself as 
well as by the Koran commentaries, the Sirah literature and the 
Traditions. 61 Converted Jews contributed much to Islam in its 
formative period; and this may explain why the Kharijites were 
the first sect to take positive action and assume a definite form 
within the Muslim community. Even so, however, and notwith- 
standing the record of Kharijite rebellions previous to the Caliphate 
of 'Abd al-Malik, the facts seem to point to his reign as the time 
hi which the Kharijite sect arose in an enduring form and to the 
mixed population of Iraq as the first circle from which it drew its 

The relation of the Murji'ites to the question of the Caliphate 
is not so clear. It is true that hi general they supported the 
Umayyad dynasty, and some of the leading Murji'ites, such as al- 
Zuhri, may have done so, as Goldziher argues, hi order to promote 
the unity of the Muslim community. On the other hand, Tabari 
tells of Murji'ites fighting hi the ranks of the rebel, Yazid b. 
Muhallab 62 , and in the Caliphate of Hisham the Khurasanian 
Harith b. Suraij revolted, and he and his followers are called 
Murji'ites. 63 

Van Vloten suggests that these Murji'ites opposed the Umay- 
yads on the same principle as the earlier Murji'ites had, in Gold- 
ziher's opinion, supported them, namely that of Muslim unity. 64 
The holy cause of unity justified Umayyad suppression of Alid 
pretenders and Kharijite rebels, but not Umayyad discrimination 
between Arabs and non-Arabs in matters of taxation and justice. 
Muslims were Muslims, whatever their race. 

Unity here has, of course, two references. In the one case it is 
a political characteristic, and in the other a social and religious one. 
This fact seems to vindicate the judgment of Goldziher and van 
Vloten, that the interests of the Murji'ites were hi the beginning 

61 Cf . Torrey's The Jewish Foundation of Islam (New York, 1933) for a perhaps 
somewhat exaggerated picture of that influence. Cf . also W. Rudolf, Die Abhan- 
gigkeit des Qorans von Jvdentum u. Christentum, 1922; Tor Andrae, Der Ursprung 
des I slams u. das Christentum, 1926. Lammens has characterized Islam as the 
form which Judaism took in Arabia. 

62 Tabari II, 1349 ff. 

63 Ibid., 1595. 

14 Domination arabe, pp. 31-32. 



political and that their emphasis on social and religious questions 
was a later development. 

Al-Naubakhti's statements 66 concerning the Murji'ites is interest- 
ing, however, for various reasons. After 'Ali's death Mu'awiya's 
party is declared to have been composed not only of his own fol- 
lowers, but also of the adherents of falha and al-Zubayr and of 
the majority of 'Ali's partisans as well. It consisted, says al- 
Naubakhti, of the generality of Muslims and the masses. These 
were all called Murji'ites, because they were tolerant of their oppo- 
nents and believed that all who prayed facing Mecca were believers, 
if only they confessed formally. 

The Murji'ites here are simply the masses of Islam and not a 
sect at all. They are the vast majority of ordinary Muslims, who 
accepted a man's word as his bond and did not scrutinize his acts 
or motives too closely. They left that to God, whether for the 
sake of unity or peace or just out of indifference it would be difficult 
to determine. In some respects the picture fits the facts as we 
know them, and also the character of the Arabs. For the Arabs 
who emigrated from the peninsula probably conceived of religion, 
in true Arab fashion, as a sort of tribal unity. As Ibn Khaldun 
says, there is no religion without partisanship. Bjjit why, then, 
do all Muslim heresiographers include the Murji'ites among the 

The answer is probably to be found in the characterization of 
Murji'ite thought given hi our Muslim authorities. 66 The chief 
problem of the Murji'ites, as of the Kharijites, is the relation of 
faith and works to the question of salvation. The Murji'ites, how- 
ever, emphasize the place of faith almost to the exclusion of works. 
In its simplest form their position is that belief is knowledge and 
unbelief ignorance. Salvation depends upon knowledge of God, of 
his apostle and of revelation, not upon confession or obedience or 
works. Some Murji'ite sects add one or other or all of these to 
knowledge, in their definition of faith or religion, but then* position 
is explained by the fact that for them faith is a spiritual quality 
and indivisible, so that they concluded that he who has once sin- 
cerely believed on God, could never desert his faith by unbelief, 
nor be capable of committing a mortal sin. Knowledge was thus, 
in their minds, the source and origin of love, obedience and works. 

65 See above. 

66 Cf . al-Ash'ari, Die dogmatischen Lehren (ed. H. Hitter) etc., la, pp. 132-157. 


The pattern of the Murji'ite type of religion is fairly obvious. 
If the Kharijites might be called Judaizers, the Murji'ites are 
Pauline Christians or even Gnostics. At least these two sects repre- 
sent in Islam respectively the religion of law and the religion of 
faith and they go back to well-defined sources. In the case of the 
Murji'ites, however, it is difficult to say exactly hi which Muslim 
circles the sect may have arisen. They never became, like the 
Shi'ites and Kharijites, a distinct communion or organization apart 
from the so-called orthodox party. 67 They seem rather to have 
formed the left whig of that party, distinguished by then* tolerance 
and their definition of religion as Gnosis. The very temper and 
quality of their faith probably thwarted any efforts towards unity 
on their part and they remained an amorphous group of individuals, 
whose only bond was a certain spiritual cast of mind and character. 
Then* position on works, moreover, was very comfortable and re- 
assuring, not only to the Umayyad dynasty, but also to the great 
majority of their fellow-Muslims, with whom they became merged 
and identified. 

Becker, 68 however, has shown how Christian polemics and apolo- 
getics not only set the questions for the Muslim theologians of the 
eighth and ninth centuries, but also provided in a measure the 
answers. It seems probable that Christians and Jews also posed 
the questions raised by the early sects; what essentially is the 
nature of Islam, or faith, and who is, hi fact, a Muslim? It is 
possible also that they gave the answers. 

67 See A. S. Halkin's The Hashwiyya in the Journal of the American Oriental 
Society, vol. 54, March, 1934, p. 13, note 6. 

68 Christliche Polemic u. Islamische Dogmeribildung (Zeitschr, f. Assyriologie etc., 
vol. XXVI, p. 175 ff.). 




Brown University 

Je grofter der Umkreis der Erscheinungen wird, die sich dem 
Erforscher der Welt der Religionen erschliefien, umso notwendiger 
wird es, Prinzipien der Ordnung, Gliederung und Bewertung zu 
finden, die es erlauben, die schier unendliche Fiille des Materials, 
das die vergleichende Religionskunde im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert 
erarbeitet hat, zu bewaltigen. Selbstverstandlich gibt es fur die 
Wissenschaft nichts Unwissenswiirdiges, die Religionswissenschaft 
hat darum grundsatzlich alles, was Religion heifit, in den Kreis 
ihrer Betrachtung zu ziehen und zu studieren. Weder Antipathic 
noch Gleichgiiltigkeit gegen einzelne Phanomene, einzelne zeitliche 
oder raumliche Abschnitte kann den Religionshistoriker davon 
befreien, seine Sonne tiber Gerechte und Ungerechte scheinen zu 
lassen. Gegeniiber friiheren Zeiten bedeutet das aber heute fur den 
Theologen wie fiir den Religionsforscher eine nicht zu unterschat- 
zende Schwierigkeit. Der Theologe, fiir den naturgemafi die eigene 
Religion den Beziehungspunkt und MaCstab fiir seine gesamte 
Arbeit darstellen wird, konnte sich in fruherer Zeit begniigen, die 
der alttestamentlichen Religiositat und dem Christentum raumlich- 
zeitlich nachstverwandten Religionen zum Vergleich heranzuziehen, 
bis, schon am Ende des 19. und noch mehr seit der Wende zum 20. 
Jahrhundert, die rapide fortschreitende Erforschung der Primitiven 
und vieler weiter abliegender mittlerer und hoherer Kulturreligionen 
ihn vor eine notwendige aber offensichtlich ins Uferlose fiihrende 
Aufgabe stellte. Ein Teil der Theologen der sog. religionsge- 
schichtlichen Schule reagierte darauf , indem sie wahllos aus samt- 
lichen erreichbaren hojieren oder prunitiven Religionen, die zufallig 
sich darbietenden "Parallelen" aufgriffen und so ihre Kommentar- 
Werke zu Gegenstiicken zu manchen sehr reichhaltigen, aber nicht 
sehr wohlgeordneten "Volkerkunde-Museen" machten. Die Reli- 
gionswissenschaft aber, die nicht an spezifisch theologischen Gesicht- 
spunkten orientiert war, konnte mit der Zeit nicht umhin, sich 



nach systematischen Prinzipien umzusehen, die ihr die Fiille der 
Gesichte zu ordnen und zu bandigen erlauben sollten. Eine Weile 
zehrte man dafiir von dem Gedankengut, das den groften religions- 
philosophischen Entwiirfen des deutschen Idealismus (Schelling, 
Hegel) zu Grunde gelegen hatte, und konstruierte, zuletzt recht 
epigonal, in diesem Sinne Entwicklungsschemata, in denen der 
Maftstab des zu seinem Wesenserkenntnis vorwartsschreitenden 
Geistes oder des sich vervollkommenden ethischen Bewufttseins 
(beide vielfach recht naive Verabsolutierungen einer bestimmten 
Geisteshaltung, der zeitlich oder regional der Betrachter eben ange- 
horte) angelegt wurde. Einen der letzten grofieren Versuche dieser 
Art stellt die einfluftreiche Volkerpsychologie W. Wundts dar. Aber 
wir glauben heute weder an solche eingleisige Entwicklungsschemata 
mehr, noch an die Moglichkeit, die Fiille religioser Erscheinungen 
aller Zeiten und Volker in irgendeinem von ihnen unterzubringen. 
Es ist interessant zu sehen, daft in dem neuesten Entwurf einer 
religionswissenschaftlichen-Systematik, in G. van der Leeuws 
"Phanomenologie der Religion" wie iibrigens auch schon in R. 
Ottos bekannter Analyse des "Heiligen" darauf iiberhaupt verzich- 
tet und die Anlage der Darstellung ganz an einzelnen Strukturele- 
menten der geschichtlichen Religion orientiert wird. Das ist gut 
so, wenngleich mir noch nicht geniigend Konsequenz und method- 
ische Klarheit iiber den kunftig von der Religionswissenschaft ein- 
zuschlagenden Weg vorzuherrschen scheint. Diese wird die Scylla 
eines prinzipienlosen Historismus ebenso wie die Kurzschliisse der 
Verabsolutierung irgendeines theologischen, philosophischen oder 
normativen "Standpunkts" zu vermeiden haben. Nach welchen 
Gesichtspunkten wird sie nun ordnen, wahlen, darstellen? Es 
wurde schon betont, daft fiir die Forschung als solche grundsatzlich 
alles wichtig ist, wie klein auch der Prozentsatz dessen sein mag, 
was den Theologen oder Systematiker dann wirklich interessieren 
kann und wird. Das kann aber sehr wohl etwas scheinbar weit 
Abliegendes sein: so mogen uns fiir das Verstandnis bestimmter 
Typen des alttestamentlichen Gottesmannes geographisch weitablie- 
gende Erscheinungen bei primitiven Volkern etwas mehr Aufschluft 
gewahren als die verwandten Religionen. Sowohl der alt- wie der 
neutestamentliche Forscher wird niemals hinter das von der reli- 
gionsgeschichtlichen Schule Erarbeitete zuriickgehen konnen. 

Mag nun fiir die Forschung als solche alles wissenswert und 
wichtig sein, was Ausdruck religiosen Lebens ist, welchem Land 


und welcher Zeit es auch angehoren mag, nicht nur fur die Dar- 
stellung und Darbietung des Stoffes, sondern bereits fur seine Bear- 
beitung und Bewertung werden sich Kriterien notwendig machen, 
die ihn gliedern helfen. Das quantitative Prinzip gibt eine gewisse 
Regulative: die sog. Weltreligionen sind wichtiger als andere 
minder verbreitete, einfach, weil sie mehr Anhanger zahlen. Das 
rechtfertigt eine eingehendere Behandlung ihrer Geschichte, eine 
starkere Heranziehung ihrer Lehre. Die Religionen "grofierer" 
Volker scheinen mehr Anspruch auf Beachtung und Studium zu ha- 
ben alS'die der kleineren Gruppen und Staaten. Aber dieses aufier- 
liche Prinzip, das allenfalls vom rein historischen Standpunkt aus 
ein gewisses Recht hat, ist unzulanglich. Fiir die profane Historic 
hat kein Geringerer als Ed. Meyer das Kriterium der "Wirkung" 
zum MaCstab fiir die Bedeutung machen wollen, fiir die Religions- 
geschichte kann die Durchsetzung aber nicht der ausschlaggebende 
MaCstab sein. Wichtig ist fiir den Religionshistoriker eine Person- 
lichkeit, eine Bewegung, eine Institution oder ein Brauch, eine 
Lehre oder ein Kult, nicht nur oder nicht einmal in erster Lime, 
weil sie weitverbreitet war, sondern weil in ihr eine spezifische, eine 
charakteristische Form von Frommigkeit zum Ausdruck kommt. 
Muhammed, Zarathustra, Mani, der Buddha, der Jina, sind, 
trotzdem sie alle "Religionsstifter" sind, hochst verschiedene Ge- 
stalten. Sie stehen, jeder, fiir eine bestimmte religiose Idee, die 
sich in ihnen gleichsam verkorpert. Die verstehende Religions- 
wissenschaft interessiert sich fiir das, was im personlichen Frommig- 
keitsleben, in Lehre, Kult, Gemeinschaft charakteristisch ist. Sie 
will sowohl dem Individuellen, wie dem Typischen in der Ausprag- 
ung des Heilsgedankens, des Opfers, des Priestertums hier und dort 
gerecht werden. Nun ist aber auch der Begriff des Charakteri- 
stischen, den iibrigens der grofie Religionskenner Herder schon zu 
betonen liebte, noch nicht geniigend, noch zu "historisch," um als 
Ordnungs- und Gliederungsprinzip dienen zu konnen. Denn 
sicher ist der Mana-Glaube ein Charakteristikum sogut wie aller 
primitiven Religionen, die Konzeption des "Orenda" bringt die 
charakteristisch irokesische Gottesvorstellung zum Ausdruck "Wa- 
kanda" die der Sioux, usw. Wir wollen und konnen aber nicht 
alle Ausformungen dieser Idee in diesem oder jenem Bereich 
(Naturvolker iiberhaupt, amerikanische, afrikanische, australische 
Religionen usw.) heranziehen und durchleuchten. Oder ein anderes 
Beispiel: charakteristisch fiir den Mahayana-Buddhismus ist der 


Bodhisattva-Glauben. Die Zahl der Bodhisattva 1st ungeheuer 
grofi; dabei wachst aber unser Wissen oder besser: Verstehen 
durchaus nicht progressiv mit der Erschliefiung immer neuer und 
neiier Varianten. Gewifi ist immer die Chance gegeben, dafi eine 
solche uns einen noch nicht bekannten oder nicht genugend beriick- 
sichtigten Einzelzug erschliefie, aber das wiirde keine grundsatz- 
liche Neuerung bedeuten, so charakteristisch es fur die individuelle 
Erscheinung auch sein moge. Es darf nicht dem Zufall tiberlas- 
sen bleiben, welche Erscheinungen zur Erleuchtung bestimmter 
Ziige der eigenen Religion oder zur Einfiihrung in die Phanomen- 
ologie der Religion iiberhaupt herangezogen werden. 

Hier scheint mir nun der Begriff des Klassischen weiterzufuhren, 
von dem, wie ich glaube, die Religionswissenschaft starker und 
bewufiter Gebrauch machen sollte, als sie es heute tut. In ihm 
ist gegeniiber dem Charakteristischen, das deskriptiv gemeint ist, 
eine Norm gegeben, aber diese ist relativ und bedeutet keine Verge- 
waltigung andersartiger Erscheinungen von einem heterogenen 
Standpunkt aus. Aus der grofien Fulle der religiosen Fuhrer der 
Menschheit etwa heben sich einzelne Gestalten als klassische Stifter- 
personlichkeiten heraus; aus der Zahl der Vegetationsgottheiten, 
die wir aus verschiedenen Religionen Vorderasiens kennen, konnen 
einige den Anspruch erheben, als klassisch zu gelten; die schier 
unendliche Zahl der Mystiker aller Zeiten und Volker verringert sich, 
wenn es sich darum handelt, einige "Klassiker" herauszustellen; 
es gibt klassische Auspragungen und Gestaltungen des Priestertums, 
wie es klassische Formen von Opfer und Gebet gibt. 

Was meint nun in all diesen Fallen "klassisch?" Negativ gesagt, 
meint es nicht: die zufallig uns bekannten, die uns besonders 
ahnlichen oder entsprechenden oder die auffallendsten unter den 
Erscheinungen, aus deren Fulle sie sich als klassisch herausheben. 
"Klassisch" meint zunachst reprasentativ. Die betreffenden Ges- 
taltungen und Formen des religiosen Lebens reprasentieren etwas 
Typisches, etwas, das mehr aussagt und ausdriickt als ein Indivi- 
duelles, "mehr" hinsichtlich des religiosen Lebens, ftir das es zeugt. 
Wenn Meister Eckhardt, Al Ghazzali und Shankara als klassische 
Mystiker gelten diirfen, so deswegen, weil in ihrer spezifischen 
Frommigkeit etwas "typisch Mystisches" sich darstellt. Der 
Begriff des Klassischen driickt aber nicht nur das Representative 
aus, sondern schliefit etwas Normatives ein. Aus der Fulle des 
geschichtlich Hervorgetretenen werden einzelne Erscheinungen und 


Gestaltungen herausgehoben, die erleuchtend, erhebend, erziehe- 
risch wirken und so, wenn auch indirekt, unser eigenes religioses 
Leben zu beeinflussen imstande sind. Das 1st allerdings in einem 
sehr weiten Sinne zu verstehen. Dass wir aus der Beschaftigung 
mit "Nachbargebieten," wie Gnosis, Mysterienkulten, Spatjuden- 
tum, bezw. wichtigen Erscheinungen aus diesen Gebieten, sehr viel 
Mr die Exegese des N. T. lernen konnen, und dafi es dem Ausleger 
leichter wird, eine Gestalt wie Simon Magus, einen Ritus wie die 
Taufe und eine Haltung wie die Jesu zum Sabbath verstandlich zu 
machen' und wenn auch aus dem Gegensatz wird von vielen 
zugegeben werden. Zeugnisse der muhammedanischen, persischen, 
hinduistischen und buddhistischen Frdmmigkeit werden uns fiir die 
Exegese des Alten und Neuen Testaments scheinbar nicht sehr viel 
bieten konnen. Trotzdem ist die Bedeutung der klassischen Ur- 
kunden fremder Religionen ganz allgemein eine gewaltige, und es 
ware ein verhangnisvoller Fehler, wenn der christliche Theologe, der 
Philosoph, oder auch nur der interessierte Laie sie iibersehen und 
iibergehen wollte. Ich mochte den interessierten Laien in diesem 
Zusammenhang ausdriicklich nennen, um dem heute noch verbrei- 
teten Vorurteil entgegenzutreten, dafi der "gebildete Laie," wie auf 
alien Gebieten, so auch von moglichst alien fremden Religionen 
etwas verstehen sollte. Das wiirde eine falsche Universalitat 
herbeifiihren, wie sie vielfach heute in manchen unserer Museen 
und, was schlimmer ist, in unseren modernen Schulen gepflegt wird. 
Einer der scharfsten Kritiker der Kultur des 19. Jahrhunderts, 
Nietzsche, hat in einer beruhmten Abhandlung iiber den "Nutzen 
und Nachteil der Historic fiir das Leben" das wahllos Haufende 
einer mifiverstandenen "Bildung" bekampft. Die ungeheure Ge- 
fahr unterschiedsloser Einbeziehung fernster und fremdester Ersch- 
einungen in unser Wissen liegt in der Bedrohung dessen, was 
Nietzsche die "plastische Kraft" nannte. Im Bereich des religiosen 
Lebens ist diese Kraft in der neueren Zeit, zu allermeist aber im 
Verlauf des 19. Jahrhunderts, der furchtbarsten Gefahrdung aus- 
gesetzt gewesen, und sie ist es heute noch. Eine Beschaftigung mit 
allgemeiner Religionsgeschichte scheint fast nbtwendig zu einem 
uferlosen und hoffnungslosen Relativismus, ja Skeptizismus fuhren 
zu miissen. Diese tiberzeugung leitet Wasser auf die Mtihlen derer, 
die glauben, in den Zustand "vor dem Fall" sich und andere zuriick- 
versetzen zu konnen und die Beschaftigung mit anderen als der 
eigenen Religion als iiberfliissig und scbadlich vollig zu verwerfen. 


Der EinfluC der fremden Religionen auf unser eigenes Leben nun, 
von dem ich oben sprach, und den ich in einem weiteren Sinne 
verstanden wissen wollte, mufi durch ein Filter gehen. Nicht 
alles, was wir an Erscheinungen, Bildungen und Einrichtungen 
fremder Religionen kennenlernen, kann und soil fur uns wesent- 
lich und darum bedeutungsvoll sein. In der Religionswissenschaft 
werden wir, so gut wie in anderen Disziplinen, den padagogischen 
Gesichtspunkt stark hervorhebend, sehr bald einen starkeren Unter- 
schied zwischen dem Interessanten und dem Wichtigen machen 
miissen, Interessant ist jede Erscheinung, und darum der Beach- 
tung, der Erforschung und Einordnung wert. Die Universalitat 
des Verstehens wird von unserer, wie von der gesamten Wissen- 
schaft, niemals aufgegeben werden konnen. Aber die Erhaltung 
und Pflege der Krafte, von denen oben die Rede war, und die in 
der Fulle dessen, was das historische Zeitalter iiber uns gebracht 
hat, erlahmen konnten, erheischt gebieterisch die Besinnung auf 
das Wesentliche und Notwendige, erheischt Konzentration. 

Wir sind heute in der Religionswissenschaft in gewisser Weise in 
derselben Lage wie die Altertumswissenschaft, die nach der gewalti- 
gen Erweiterung ihres Stoffes im vergangenen Jahrhundert zunachst 
die ihr eigentiimliche humanistische Konzeption des 5. Jahrhun- 
derts als des Klassischen aufgab, sich aber jetzt wieder starker auf 
Normbegriff besinnt. (Vgl. Das Problem des Klassischen und die 
Antike. Acht Vortrage her. von W. Jaeger 1931.) Wir, die wir 
die Fulle der Gestalten und Formen der aufierchristlichen Reli- 
gionswelt kennengelernt haben, haben jetzt wieder ein neues 
Gefiihl fur die spezifische Qualitat, den Wert und die Bedeutung 
der klassischen Erscheinungen in der Religionsgeschichte. Das 
Pathos der Freude an der Relativierung der alt- und neutestament- 
lichen Personlichkeiten in das Niveau der allgemeinen Religions- 
geschichte, das seinerseits das Pathos der Verteidigung ihrer abso- 
luten Bedeutung und Unvergleichbarkeit abgelost hat, soil ein 
anderes ersetzen, das, irn Gegensatz zu dem letzteren, um die 
Mannigfaltigkeit des geschichtlichen Lebens der Religion auf Grund 
umfassender Studien seiner Gestaltungen weiC, diese Mannigfaltig- 
keit aber im Gegensatz zur erstgennanten Auffassung nicht verabso- 
lutiert, sondern mit dem Mut zur Positivitat auf die Erfassung und 
Darstellung des Klassischen in der Religionsgeschichte gerichtet ist. 

Die Erzvater und die grofien Prophetengestalten Israels, um ein 
Beispiel aus dem Bereich der alttestamentlichen Wissenschaft zu 


wahlen, stehen, seit eine subtile und eindringende Forschung ihre 
Umwelt erleuchtet und sich um Vergleiche und Parallelen bemiiht 
hat, von denen vorangegangene Geschlechter keine Ahnung haben 
konnten, in einer Art von neuer Monumentalitat da, die fur den 
Modernen gewissermafien zur Theodizee der geschichtlichen Ent- 
wicklung wird. Nicht nur infolge der Beschrankung und dem 
starren Festhalten am Hergebrachten auf Seiten all der Genera- 
tionen, die sie liebten und sich an ihnen erbauten, haben diese 
Fuhrergestalten im Laufe der Jahrhunderte die ehrwiirdige Patina 
angenommen, die heute von Manchen nur als Staub und Moder 
angesehen wird. Was diese Erscheimmgen zu klassischen nicht 
nur im Bereich des Biblischen, sondern der gesamten Religionswelt 
macht, scheint zweierlei: einmal die Tiefe und Grofie der reli- 
giosen Empfindung, die sie zum Ausdruck bringen, also etwas 
Inhaltliches, und dann die Form, in der es geschieht. Abraham, 
Josef, Mose, Amos, Jesaja, Hiob diese Namen bezeichnen Ges- 
talten, die durch die Fiille dessen, was wir uber Zusammenhange 
wissen, in denen sie stehen, nicht kleiner, sondern grofier werden: 
klassische Gestalten. Es ist eine wichtige Aufgabe die didaktische 
der alttestamentlichen Theologie und Exegese diese Grofie 
sichtbar zu machen. Aber nicht nur Personen, auch Vorgange und 
Einrichtungen, von denen uns die Schriften des A. T. berichten, 
besitzen eine solche klassische Bedeutung. Das bedeutet nicht, 
das sie unter alien Umstanden positiv zu werten sind; es ist bekannt, 
wievieles unter gewandelter und gelauterter sittlicher Anschauung 
fragwiirdig, ja sogar verwerflich erscheinen mufi, aber die Starke 
und Intensitat der religiosen Erf ahrung von Gottesnahe und Gottes- 
ferne erweitert nicht nur, sondern vertieft immer wieder unser 
eigenes Wissen um Gott, Welt und Mensch. 

Wie steht es nun mit der Erfassung des Klassischen, wie hat 
man sich die Auswahl des Wesentlichen, die Gewinnung der Leucht- 
punkte aus der dunklen Fiille des Materials vorzustellen? Wir 
konnen hier nicht ausfiihrlicher auf die erkenntnistheoretische 
Problematik eingehen; nur soviel: es ware grundverkehrt hier rein 
abstrahierend vorzugehen und etwa aus einer moglichst grossen 
Menge empirischen Details das Entscheidende durch Abstriche 
und Eeduktionen finden zu wollen. Das Phanomen wird oft an 
einem einzelnen "Exemplar" aufleuchten und deutlicher hervortre- 
ten als wenn wir suchen, es durch Priifung vieler anderer ausfindig 
zu machen. Das schliesst nicht aus, dass die unmittelbare Erfas- 


sung in und aus der Einzelerscheinung durch Vergleichen zu priifen 
und zu berichtigen 1st. Der "Johannes" etwa des vierten Evan- 
geliums mag uns die klassische Gestalt des "Jiingers" vor Augen 
fiihren, wir werden nicht umsonst unser Wissen darum, was ein 
Jiinger ist, bereichern und vertiefen, wenn wir den Ananda, des 
Buddha Lieblingsjiinger, aus den alten Texten des Tipitaka daneben 
halten. Im Grunde ist es, wie die erkenntnistheoretische Eror- 
terung der Probleme der Logik der Geisteswissenschaften, immer 
wieder erkennen lasst, ein Wechselspiel, in dem das Eine durch die 
Folie, auf der es aufleuchtet, deutlicher werd, indess die klassische 
Gestaltung ihrerseits einen Massstab fur die Erfassung und Bewer- 
tung der ihr verwandten Manigfaltigkeit bietet. Dabei ist eine 
besonders wichtige Frage, die aber hier natiirlich erst recht nicht 
breiter erortert werden kann, die, wieweit wir mit einem "Vor- 
wissen" um das Wesen geistiger Phanomene rechnen kownen, bzw. 
wieweit dieses tragt. Wissen wir nicht darum, was ein "Engel", 
was "Opfer" ist, ehe wir darum "erfahren?" 

Wie dem auch sei, aus der Fiille des religionsgeschichtlischen 
Materials treten bestimmte Erscheinungen, klassische Gestalten, 
Erscheingen und Einrichtungen hervor. Kntipfen wir noch einmal 
an das oben zitierte Beispiel aus dem meutestamentlichen Umkreis 
an: die Jiingerschaft. Aufs eindrucklichste stehen sie vor unsern 
Augen, die Jiinger Jesu. Niemand wird leugnen, das sie klassische 
Verkorperungen hochst individuell besthnmter Haltungen sind, 
Petrus und Johannes, Thomas und Judas, Paulus. Man hat von 
einer paulinischen und einer johanneischen Frommigkeit gesprochen 
und durch die Geistesgeschichte des christlichen Abendlandes 
hindurch lassen sich Vertreter der beiden, in den klassichen Ges- 
talten der beiden Jiinger verkorperten Glaubenshaltungen aufweisen: 
Augustinus, Luther hier, Fichte und Schleiermacher dort. Unmog- 
lich, alle die von der Kunst in ihrer Individualitat und dem Ty- 
pischen, das sie ausdrucken, immer wieder dargestellten Gestalten, 
die in naherer oder fernerer Beziehung zum Herrn stehen, mit 
seiner Vita an uns vorliberziehen zu lassen: sie bilden zusammen 
einen Kosmos klassischer Formen von, durch den Erloser positiv 
oder negativ bestimmter Existenz. 

Der Begriff des Klassischen soil nun aber ganz und gar nicht 
auf die biblische Welt im weiteren Sinne eingeschrankt sein, sondern 
im Gegenteil die gesamte uns bekannte religiose Erscheinungswelt 
umfassen. Da ist z. B. die fur die gesamte Religionsgeschichte so 


erleuchtende Konzeption des Tabu, die klassisch in den polynes- 
ischen Religionen zum Ausdruck kommt. Wenn man sie dort 
studiert und kennengelernt hat, ist der Blick gescharft fur all die 
verschiedenen Formen, in denen sie auftritt, und die Nachwirkungen 
in den hochsten Gestaltungen der Religiositat. Da ist die noch 
nicht in ihrer ganzen Bedeutung f iir die Religionskunde gewiirdigte 
Erscheinung des Schamanismus, die klassisch hi den Religionen 
Nordasiens zu beobachten ist, da ist die fur bestimmte Auspra- 
gungen des religiosen Lebens so bezeichnende Kultur der Medita- 
tion, die wir klassisch hn Buddhismus und Taoismus studieren 
konnen, da ist die Lehre von den Engeln, die in der iranischen 
Religion klassisch zum Ausdruck kommt. Man hat ja hi der 
Geschichte der Religionswissenschaft mehrfach den fiir ehie bes- 
timmte hidividuelle Erscheinung landesiiblichen Ausdruck verall- 
gemehiert und zu einer typologischen Kategorie erhoben: so die 
Begriffe Mana, Tabu, Totem. Das ist, wenn es mit den notigen 
Vorbehalten geschieht, durchaus berechtigt und bereitet die Ab- 
grenzung und Heraushebung klassischer Phanomene vor; es ist nur 
gefahrlich, wenn es entweder mit der Intention erfolgt, eine hidi- 
viduelle Gestaltung auf andere zu reduzieren (es ist "nur" dies und 
das; "nichts anderes als" ), um sie dadurch zu deteriorieren, oder 
wenn unhistorisch dabei verfahren wird. Ich habe in meiner 
Kritik an Max Webers Religionssystematik (Einleitung in die 
Religionssoziologie 1930, Anhang) auf diese Schwierigkeiten auf- 
inerksam gemacht. Man sieht, dafi der Begriff des Klassischen 
elastisch gedacht ist, nicht einen, ein ftir alle Mai geschlossenen 
Kanon von Gestaltungen meinen kann, sondern offen sehi mufi 
fiir den dauernden Zuwachs neu in das Blickfeld der geschichtlichen 
Forschung tretender und sich vor systematischer Priifung aus- 
weisender Phanomene. Damit wird auch der oben aufgestellten 
Forderung geniigt, daft nicht alles, was von Ethnologic, Philologie 
und allgemeiner Religionsgeschichte neu erschlossen oder neu 
bekannt wird, wahllos in den notwendigerweise engeren Kreis des 
religionswissenschaftlich Bedeutsamen aufgenommen wird, anderer- 
seits ein starrer Inbegriff (etwa das Biblische als MaCstab) von 
vornherein ehie Wtirdigung und Auswertung andersartiger Erschei- 
nungen fiir die Kenntnis des Frommigkeitslebens der Menschheit 
unmoglich macht. Selbstverstandlich handelt es sich bei dieser 
Erorterung um ein methodologisches Problem der Religionswissen- 
schaft; das heiftt, dafi das theologische Anliegen der Wahrheitsfrage 


dadurch in keiner Weise beriihrt wird. Fiir welche religiose Uber- 
zeugung ich mich glaubensmafiig entscheide, diese Frage wird ja 
iiberhaupt nicht im Umkreis religionsgeschichtlicher Arbeit ent- 
schieden. Selbstverstandlich werden den christlichen Theologen 
andere unter den als klassisch anzusehenden Erscheinungen der 
Religionsgeschichte interessieren als den jiidischen oder muham- 
medanischen. Daft der christliche Theologe in unserm Herrn 
anderes und mehr sieht als eine klassische Gestalt der Religions- 
geschichte, schliefit nicht aus, dafi er dem forschenden Angehorigen 
eines anderen Glaubens wiederum als eine solche erscheint. 

Die letzte Erwagung legt es nahe zu fragen, wieweit der Begriff 
des Klassischen eigentlich "gebunden" (in diesem Sinn 'relativ") 
ist. Es ist ohne weiteres klar, daC er nicht in demselben MaCe 
wie die Feststellung eines historischen oder philosophischen Datums 
weitestgehend unabhangig von der Subjektivitat des Forschenden 
und Betrachtenden ist. Er ist als ein Ordnungsbegriff heuristischer 
Natur. Wir sahen, er erweitert sich und vor allem berichtigt sich 
mit der Zeit. Aber er ist keineswegs willkiirlich. Es ist moglich 
auszumachen, dafi objektiv diese oder jene Erscheinung klassische 
Bedeutung fur den Religionsforscher hat, gleichgiiltig, welchem 
Jahrhundert oder welcher Nation er angehort. Wir sehen z. B., 
dafi Personlichkeiten, Erscheinungen und Einrichtungen an einer 
der Fremd-Religionen den Historikern, Geographen und Reisenden 
der Antike oder des Mittelalters bereits als reprasentativ, als 
wesentlich, ja, dafi sie ihnen in der gleichen Weise als klassisch 
imponierten wie uns heute. Gerade der Begriff des Klassischen 
sollte dazu helfen, den Fanatikern des Subjektivismus von heute 
klarzumachen, dafi hier durchaus nicht "alles flieflt," sondern eine 
bewundernswerte tJbereinstimmung im wohlbegriindeten Urteil 
vieler Zeiten und Volker in der wissenschaftlichen Erkenntnis eine 
Tradition erarbeitet, die nicht dadurch bedeutungslos wird, dafi 
einige ihre Existenz und ihren Wert leugnen. In dem Kampf, in 
dem die Religionswissenschaft, wie alle Wissenschaft iiberhaupt, 
heute steht, gilt es klar zu erkennen, dafi gegeniiber dem radikalen 
Pragmatismus, der vielerorten das Haupt erhebt, an dem Prinzip 
der Verbindlichkeit und damit einer relativen Objektivitdt (sein 
Wesen und seine Bedeutung habe ich in meiner Untersuchung liber 
die Geschichte des Verstehensproblems im 19. Jahrhundert zu 
erhellen gesucht) festgehalten werden mufi, wenn man einem 
anarchischen Pluralismus und Subjektivismus, in dem dann nicht 


mehr von der Wissenschaft wiirde die Rede sein konnen, entgehen 
will, dafi einem uferlosen und urteilslosen, dadurch sich selbst 
aufhebenden Positivismus gegentiber Wegzeiger, Akzente, Normen 
in der chaotischen Fiille des "Stoffes" sichtbar gemacht werden 
miissen, die der in sich berechtigten Erkenntnisarbeit erst den 
tieferen und weiterreichenden Wert verleiht, der ihr im Zusammen- 
hang jeder wahren Kultur zukommt und der in seiner erzieherischen 
Wirkung sich erprobt. 



Harvard University 

It is too early to appraise the method called Formgeschichte by 
any productive results for New Testament studies. Thus far its 
exponents have been more concerned to define it and illustrate it 
than to use it continuously hi a single undertaking. There is, for 
example, no gospel commentary yet published that claims to be a 
thoroughgoing product of this school. One suspects that without 
the labels or terminology very much of the new technique has long 
existed in intelligent New Testament criticism. Bacon's Begin- 
nings of the Gospel Story, published hi 1909, displays for example 
the same concern for motivation in the material, the same recogni- 
tion of aetiological and theological origins, that are part of the newer 
school. One may further query whether the special emphasis on 
literary classification is really much of a key either to the form or 
to the history of the gospel sections to which it is applied, and 
further whether the notion of group influence holds any universal 
explanatory value when one conceives of the material as existing, to 
be sure, in the minds of many early Christians but of being trans- 
mitted from person to person under casual circumstances rather 
than through the more formal channels of catechetical instruction 
or of definite worship. Form Criticism is perhaps still in the stage 
of whetting and of admiring its tools, and therefore, to change the 
figure, "let not him that girdeth on his armor boast. ..." 

It often happens that the by-products of a movement are more 
significant than the products. In the present instance there is 
already evident a very fruitful perspective to the gospel material 
growing out of the approach of Form Criticism. This perspective 
is the impression of significant oral growth and change prior to the 
written records. The synoptic problem and the question of written 
sources has long occupied the center of historical study. The new 
approach is by no means a cancellation of or a substitute for these 
literary studies. The validity of earlier hypotheses of dependence 
of gospel on gospel or on smaller written sources may be questioned, 



but not because of any alternative or corrective offered by Form- 
geschichte. The latter does not mark a return to the purely oral 
theory of .gospel origins. It leaves the literary problem as it was, 
the problem that immediately precedes the actual completed gos- 
pels, so far as textual criticism allows us to speak of the gospel 
autographs as knowable entities. As the rise of source criticism 
left the tasks of textual criticism still quite necessary, so the rise 
of form criticism leaves the synoptic problem still a valid literary 
exercise. In both instances a newer discipline has simply raised a 
prior question, without supplanting or abolishing the older disci- 
pline. Form criticism carries the mind back to the stage before 
the written relationship, the stage "between Jesus and the Gospels," 
as I have elsewhere called it, and by staking out its claims in that 
field, by indicating its existence and formative importance, the new 
school of criticism has performed already a distinct service. Here- 
tofore gospel study has operated too exclusively with the following 
limited concepts, the historical Jesus, the written sources behind 
the gospels, the personalities and work of the evangelists. To 
indicate the reality, variety and richness of this other creative 
stage of oral tradition is thoroughly worth while, whether more 
tangible results can be attained or not. 

The richness of the oral period accounts for example for the 
contradictory or contrasting viewpoints of the data. Hitherto 
many scholars have thought mainly of an editor and of his sources. 
Assuming that each was self-consistent they have supposed that 
irreconcilable factors in the gospels are due either to the use of two 
divergent accounts or to incomplete revision by the evangelist of 
somewhat uncongenial matter that lay before him. As in some 
pentateuchal criticism, the problem has been regarded mainly as 
one of distinctive strands. Form criticism suggests that the ulti- 
mate units behind our gospels are much smaller, the single saying 
or section, and it allows for very independent development of mo- 
tive or interest in each unit. In this oral period the units have no 
common history and already take on divergent coloring. Even the 
single unit has been successively under the influence of several 
points of view, and what it has absorbed or rejected of each is 
already embodied in its oral form before ever an editor has a chance 
to frame it. 

The variety of these influences can hardly be over-emphasized 
in contrast to the naive view of the photographic accuracy and 


impartiality of tradition. The same variety accounts for the ex- 
treme difficulty of achieving a consistent picture of gospel chris- 
tology. In such a series of cross currents there is no assurance of 
finding any protected thoroughfare for one way traffic. It has 
often been supposed, for example, that tradition moved constantly 
hi a certain direction. It has been supposed that step by step it 
idealized Jesus. Perhaps it usually did so, but what made him 
ideal in one respect might differ from the ideal in another. It has 
been supposed that tradition regularly enhanced the miraculous. 
No doubt that is often true. But another motive might quite 
unconsciously seem to bring about another effect. When, for ex- 
ample, we are told that Jesus could do no mighty work in Nazareth 
because of their unbelief, there is a motive at work, familiar in 
many stages of Christian history, to display the resistance to grace 
of the unbeliever: "He came to his own place, and his own people 
received him not." To be sure rejection and failure suggest a 
limitation of Jesus' power which another interest would have can- 
celled out as in fact Matthew does cancel Mark 6:5; but it is not 
thereby the more primitive. The same may be said of others of 
Schmiedel's famous "pillar passages." The verdict upon each may 
well be not of relative primitiveness but merely of a different pre- 
dominant motive. 

Similarly of Jesus' own attitude to his miracles. The modern 
sceptical mind finds so congenial the idea that Jesus belittled his 
supernatural deeds that we welcome evidence from the earliest 
sources that seems to support that thesis. He refused the requested 
sign or he prohibited publicity about the accomplished cure. Now 
a more realistic attitude towards the variegated tendencies of pre- 
evangelical tradition must give some pause to such a reading of the 
evidence. Perhaps we are wrong hi assigning (with Wrede) to 
Mark a consistent tendency towards messianic secrecy, but we 
may be right in suspecting that non-original elements have colored 
the tradition which he embodies, so as to produce from more than 
one angle an impression of this kind. When the devils proclaim 
Jesus' identity as the Holy One of God and he silences them, the 
tradition is not doubting the identity, nor is it even troubled with 
the embarrassment of recognition from such a source. Still less is 
it concerned with any historical Jesus who wishes secrets held back 
temporarily, or of a church that has to explain why then 1 present 
claims for him were not promulgated more emphatically earlier, hi 


his life time. Form criticism has helped clear our minds of any 
cherished hope of surviving chronology even hi Mark, or of skilful 
editorial perspective that distinguished problems of Jesus' period 
from those of the author's age. Doubtless the episode with the 
demons is much simpler than that. It is a contest between two 
forces. The demons hi knowing Jesus' identity are exultant hi the 
power that knowing one's enemy's name gives one, and Jesus is 
triumphant in silencing and exorcising the demon. These are 
natural interests and sufficient hi their tune. On another occasion 
a Christian like Paul might find equal triumph for Jesus in his 
escaping detection from the rulers of this age as Lord of Glory 
through a humble incognito; the fourth evangelist might feel little 
taste or interest for this kind of episode; and even Mark may have 
moved beyond some aspects of the primitive material that he 

No topic hi Jesus' teaching was more liable to various influences 
than his teaching on the future. As ever hi apocalyptic tradition, 
transient contemporary events would recast the content of this 
teaching, while the demand for proper moral emphasis would lead 
to quite contradictory results under different circumstances. No 
single rectilinear direction marks the course of eschatological think- 
ing in primitive Christian tradition. To secure the urgency of a 
vivid hope, and to avoid the disillusionment and apathy of a hope 
disappointed, means an essentially varied body of material. It 
has often been assumed that tradition only enhanced apocalyptic, 
and that in our written documents beginning with Q and ending 
with John we can chart this tendency in a regularly ascending scale. 
Even of the written documents this is not true, and besides there is 
another tendency not quite opposite in effect "not yet," "not 
immediately," this and that item in the program "must happen 
first." This cautionary note of delay is latent in all the synoptic 
gospels especially hi Luke, as it is explicit hi 2 Thessalonians. In 
the formative stages of tradition that the believers should not 
follow false Christs was of as much importance as that they should 
be ready for the true Christ at his parousia. In the balance of 
conflicting motifs there would be need of delicate adjustment: 
what our gospels give us in this matter is rather a series of previously 
unconnected samples of several moods. 

It is in the light of this continuing change active enough to 
have required many generations, though actually compressed into 


one that one can understand how earlier motifs in the tradition 
are at tunes completely submerged in the present form of the 
gospel. Just as in certain Old Testament stories, the tower of 
Babel, the sons of God and the daughters of men, the encounter 
of God (an angel) with Jacob or Moses, we feel sure that we have 
a torso of some older folk tale whose original theme is now to be 
only faintly guessed, so it may be that our gospels, retain items 
whose original details remain to tantalize us with unguessed inten- 
tions of an earlier day. As the story of the sacrifice of Isaac may 
once have dealt not with faith and obedience but with the transfer 
from human to animal sacrifice, so the story of the baptism of 
Jesus may have had behind it several other interests than those 
now on the surface. I cannot doubt that at some stage before 
Christ became merely a surname, Christian doubt or unbeliever's 
criticism required literal evidence that Jesus the Anointed was 
literally anointed, as under other circumstances Jesus the son of 
God must be proved the literal son of God. Narrative evidence of 
more than one kind was produced. This motive lies behind the 
stories where a woman is the anointer, though neither writer nor 
reader need be aware of it. The requirements of the "Elias redi- 
vivus" expectation are met by assigning such an act to John the 
Baptist. A still higher source and a different but superior unction 
is implied in the descent of the Spirit. In one version shared by 
all the evangelists that occurred at precisely the same occasion. 
As the story stands the actual facts of John's historic rite, the 
custom of early Christian water baptism, the desire to cite the 
divine identification of Jesus, quite obscure any literal "messianic" 
value of the baptism story. 

That the same evangelist can include more than one version of 
such anointings is not strange. The two accounts of the feeding of 
the multitude make a more obvious doublet. Here again a Chris- 
tian practice has affected the manner of the telling, though only 
John the "antisacramentalist" associates the story with the eucha- 
rist. These variants are not mutually exclusive, but even if they 
had been they could easily have circulated side by side and could 
have been copied into a single gospel. Tradition and its editors 
are slightly concerned for consistency. This is true of the sayings 
of Jesus, apocalyptic or otherwise. But the most striking example 
is the fact that two evangelists quite independently make the same 
combination of a virgin birth which excludes the paternity of Joseph, 


and of a family tree that requires his paternity. Here the literal- 
izing of two Messiah concepts, "son of David" and "son of God," 
has run in each case its independent course to meet in an embarrass- 
ing encounter. Scribes and church fathers felt the difficulty, but 
their solutions are not real ones. Matthew probably feels no em- 
barrassment. However Matthew 1:16 first read, the author has 
at best made but a lame reconciliation of descent from David 
through Joseph who unmistakably and emphatically did not beget 
Jesus. Luke's gospel, in which the virginity of Mary is not em- 
phasized but is perhaps already a submerged moth 9 of which slight 
debris appears in 1 :34, hints at a reader's embarrassment by begin- 
ning the genealogy, "being, as was supposed, the son of Joseph." 

This section leads me to speak of a special type of submerged 
motif, and one that reveals the richness of the tradition. I refer 
to the controversial aspects behind it. Some controversy is still 
on the surface. Indeed the controversy with the Jews is extra- 
ordinarily vigorous hi the synoptics, and one is naturally inclined 
to deduce from it an immediate and contemporary interest of the 
evangelists hi defending Christian freedom over against Pharisaic 
rigor. Possibly it represents controversy with Judaizers within the 
church. It may be wiser to suppose that this note of opposition be- 
longs historically to a slightly earlier period than to the evangelist's 
own era or even to the actual lifetime of Jesus. We have in the 
cross good evidence of a fatal disagreement between Jesus and the 
contemporary leaders of Judaism. We know little, and that little 
only from Paul, of Christian controversy with Jews in the period 
when our gospel material was circulating and being recorded. The 
almost exclusively Christological nature of the Jewish-Christian 
debates in John and in Justin Martyr shows us a later academic 
tendency in this field. 

Behind the surface stories of controversy there are in our gospels 
some evidences of earlier stages, and in some cases we may trace 
with a good deal of probability not merely attack and defense but 
a whole series of steps, like the transcript of a continuous altercation. 
In Matthew's story of Joseph this is clear. Partly modesty but 
partly also the natural submergence of past issues has obscured 
without entirely obliterating the early suggestion of the unchastity 
of Mary and the illegitimacy of Jesus. Whether the Talmudic 
canard to this effect has survived underground from the first cen- 
tury, we need not determine. The Jewish charge of illegitimacy was 


known to Celsus in the Second Century. It was an inevitable 
reaction to the first as to any later elaboration of the virginity 
motif. Whether the Christian or his opponent was the first to 
suggest Joseph's own doubt on this score, it too was an obvious 
thought. The Christian has of course the last word. He was sure 
that the later hostile doubt must have been met and answered at 
the tune. When Joseph was minded to put away his wife, he was 
dissuaded by an explanatory dream messenger. The Protevan- 
gelium of James only carries the alternative of doubt and con- 
firmation a little further. 

I have called this an example of submerged motif. But I do not 
wish to assert that the debate it implies had actually taken place 
over a long period of years. It may have done so. One can im- 
agine the slow spread of a doctrine without details of divine paternity 
for Jesus. To be sure our present versions do not stress or even 
plainly state this, but rather its corollary, the virginity of Mary. 
It has been questioned whether belief hi divine intervention here 
ever took the form of a divine bridegroom for Mary. Then sinister 
voices of unbelievers would suggest a scandalous reply. By both 
parties explicit details would be brought to their assertions, and 
Matthew represents the stage of Christian rebuttal. This last is 
more likely to be contemporary or even original with him, but it 
implies I think the other stages as distinctly earlier. 

The same kind of evidence appears hi the genealogy in Matthew. 
Unfortunately we cannot say in general what its history has been. 
The balanced numerical arrangement shows artificiality and is com- 
patible with the editorial interests of the evangelist himself, but 
it may also be earlier. The same uncertainty applies to the present 
inclusion in the pedigree of the names of four women. But there 
can be no doubt as to the reason for mentioning them. Tamar, 
Rahab, Ruth and Bathsheba are not supremely conspicuous or 
honored names hi the history of Israel. Nor are they included by 
mere chance. They represent rather four instances of irregular not 
to say illegitimate ancestry which might easily be cast hi the teeth 
of their descendants. But the Jews honored and revered the royal 
line that came from them. So no matter what evil construction 
one puts on the birth of Jesus these are a parallel that by analogy 
lessens the taint of obloquy. Matthew himself does not point to 
then: meaning. The casual reader barely notes the absence of other 
women hi the genealogy or recalls the reputation of these. In the 


case of Ruth he assumes that her status was beyond reproach be- 
cause of the attractive idyll of her that he reads. He forgets how 
in other Jewish circles her foreign marriage would brand her children 
as bastards almost as much as would adultery. But somewhere in 
the earlier transmission of the family tree it seemed worth while to 
defend the immediate ancestry of Jesus by the parallels of prior 
history. It was perhaps the miracle of God's ways to raise up the 
Messiah from parentage of such kinds. These four names and the 
dream of Joseph both deal with the slur on Jesus, but they deal 
with it somewhat differently. In neither case is it really mentioned 
but in both it is implied. It confirms our sense of variety in the 
tradition that the same submerged element is embodied in two 
different forms in the same context of a single gospel. 

Still nearer to the surface is the motive in Matthew's story of 
the baptism: 

John: I have need to be baptized of thee and comest them to me? 
Jesus: Suffer it to be so now: for thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness. 

Whatever the original interest in the actual baptism of Jesus by 
John here another motive has run against it, and raised questions. 
The greater ought to baptize the less, the sinless ought to baptize 
the sinful. The thought of Matthew or his predecessors has faced 
the difficulty. That it was pressed by living partisans of the 
Baptist is not a necessary assumption, though it is an assumption 
that fits the usual hypothesis of anti-Johannine polemic which 
scholars read into Acts 18:24-19:7 and into parts of the Fourth 
Gospel. It is a doubt that might easily arise in a loyal Christian 
consciousness. That "it behooved Jesus to be made in all things 
like unto his brethren" was a conception difficult at some points 
for admirers to accept. The dialogue in Matthew may be merely 
the dramatization of an inner doubt and reassurance. "What! 
Jesus baptized by John with water? Yes, it was part of the hu- 
mility of his career and of his example of voluntary conformity." 
In any case we have the sequence statement, objection, rebuttal. 

A longer series of exchanges characterizes the same evangelist's 
story of the guard at the tomb. All the stories of the resurrection 
involve a considerable interplay of ideas, which we may translate 
into dialogue, for example: 

Jesus was the Messiah. 

No, he cannot have been because he was hanged. 
Yes, but though he died he rose from the dead. 
That is incredible and we do not believe it. 


The eyewitnesses with difficulty believed it, they were persuaded in spite of 


Doubtless they saw a vision while Jesus himself remained hi his grave. 
But he did not remain in his grave, it was found empty. 
If it was empty some one entered the tomb and removed the body. 
No, the first visitors were women and they could not have removed the stone. 
How then was the stone removed? 
It must have been by miracle as the stone was very great. 
But perhaps it was not the same grave, but a vacant one. 
No, they found the grave clothes actually left there neatly in the grave and 

were told by angels that Jesus had risen. 

Matthew's special version fits into such a series; it contains the 
following stages: 

To guarantee the reality of Jesus' resurrection let me remind you that the 

grave was sealed and guarded. 
But why would it be sealed and guarded? 

Because the chief priests and Pharisees feared we would tell just such a story. 
How then could Jesus have risen, without the guard's knowing it? 
They all did know it, but were bribed to keep silent about it. 

This may not be precisely the sequence, but something of this 
sort represents the component elements of the story as Matthew 
gives it. Each side tries to pass the lie, and of course in our gospels 
the last word is with the Christian apologist. Perhaps not every 
question was actually raised by an unbelieving opponent. The 
believer himself would see the difficulties and fortify his own con- 
viction by arguing to himself what must have happened. But in 
any case tradition has transferred to the very days of passion and 
resurrection the afterthoughts of its own apologetic or polemic. 
The completed argument bears witness to the earlier stages of 
debate. The Gospel of Peter merely illustrates a partly indepen- 
dent elaboration, once the fictitious theme of the guarded tomb 
had been given. 

The illustrations cited are from Matthew's gospel. It is per- 
haps the most naive and obvious in its betrayal of earlier history. 
It embodies two very opposite views of Jesus' attitude towards 
Judaism and hi its phrase, "Think not that I am come to destroy 
the law and the prophets," it as much as admits that its pro-Jewish 
slant is a rebuttal of Jewish charges against Christianity. Evi- 
dently the suggestion has been made that Jesus intended to destroy 
the law, that the law would fall or pass away and that the gospel 
was from the first intended to be carried into the ways of the 
Gentiles or into the cities of the Samaritans. If here as in the 


baptism scene, Matthew counters with his favorite word fulfill, 
we simply learn that he has found in the analogy of prophecy a 
superficial formula of reconciliation that suffices his own naivete". 

The undertones of earlier debate may be less obvious in the 
gospels of Mark and Luke, but the debate had existed none the 
less. In John we are more at sea. The existence of his predecessors 
alone enables us to check off as rebuttal: "John was not yet cast 
into prison," or, "bearing the cross for himself." This evangelist 
has eliminated rather than apologized for a baptism of Jesus the 
greater by John the less, but in another context entirely that Jesus 
should baptize as John has done appears to the Fourth Evangelist 
too undignified and competitive for Jesus. If one must make com- 
parisons in this field Jesus was doubtless the more successful, though 
the actual menial rite was performed by Jesus' own disciples, not 
by their master. In John's gospel the recovery of earlier tradi- 
tional motifs is however obscured by the use of irony, and by his 
love of indirection and allusion. He leaves unanswered such objec- 
tions as that Jesus comes from Galilee the source of no good 
thing that the true Messiah is to come from Bethlehem. These 
personal habits and in general the undetermined balance of fresh 
fiction against inherited tradition makes uncertain the application 
to the gospel of the tests which elsewhere serve to indicate the 
richly varied character of the impersonal oral tradition behind the 
personal editors. 

For the purpose of this paper there is no need of more illustrations 
or of more definite recovery of the exact history. What has been 
said suffices to indicate the "geologic" history of the gospel tradi- 
tion. Submerged layers of uncertain order and chronology have 
left their tell-tale marks on the resultant surface of our written 
gospels. Action and reaction, spontaneous within the resourceful 
Christian consciousness, or stimulated by the doubter and scorner, 
are not to be judged by the relatively few years that we postulate 
for oral transmission, but by the fertility of a living faith that 
meets many successive problems with variety and versatility. 
Many of the older stages are still patent, writ large in the present 
fiber of our gospels. The writers themselves share definitely and 
visibly the apologetic and polemic of their own immediate day and 
circumstances. But the last phase is not the only one. Behind 
it we may believe there were other motives now in part submerged 
and the multiple waves of recurrent attack and defense, argument 
and rebuttal, claim and counterclaim, doubt and the reply of faith. 



Brown University 

Some fifteen years ago three books of fundamental importance 
for the history of gospel criticism appeared: K. L. Schmidt's, Rah- 
men der Geschichte Jesu, Berlin, 1919; Dibelius' Formgeschichte des 
Evangeliwns, Tubingen 1919, 2nd edition, 1933, and Bultmann's 
Geschichte der synoptischen Evangelien, Gottingen, 1921, 2nd edition, 
1931. x For reasons which were partly fortuitous, partly inevitable, 
all approached the central problem of the gospels from similar 
points of view. All had come under the intoxicating influence of 
Gunkel, had been forced to reckon with the theories of Reitzen- 
stein, had felt that current solutions to the Synoptic Problem and 
more especially the uncertain and eclectic combinations of Mark 
and Q did not represent the last word to be said on the sources 
of the life of Jesus, and had sensed the necessity for relating the 
composition of the gospels to that of other popular literature. 

The new method, which was called "formgeschichtlich" because 
of its emphasis on literary form in the analysis of documents, roused 
great enthusiasm and attracted many followers hi Germany and 
occasioned some repercussions hi England, France and America. 
Voices of warning, however, were heard from theologians like Holl 2 
in Germany, Burkitt 3 hi England, and Cadbury 4 and Easton 6 hi 
this country, who were somewhat appalled not only by the shattered 
fragments of early Christian history as it had previously been 

1 Intensive surveys of the literature and expositions of the method are given 
by Dibelius, Zur Formgeschichte des Evangeliums, Theologische Rundschau, N. F. 
1 (1929), 185; Bultmann, Die Erforschung der synoptischen Evangelien, (Aus der 
Welt der Religion 4), Giesen, 1925; and more critically by E. Fascher, Die form- 
geschichtliche Methode, Giesen, 1924; and B. S. Easton, The Gospel before the 
Gospels, New York, 1928. 

2 K. Holl, Urchristentum und Religionsgeschichte (Studien des Apologetischen 
Seminars 10), Gutersloh, 1925. 

3 J. T. S. 

4 Between Jesus and the Gospels, Harvard Theological Review xvi (1923). 
c op. cit. 



understood, but by the novel basic assumptions which made possible 
the complicated dissection of literary wholes and their cavalier dis- 
missal as evidence for Jesus' life. It must be admitted that great 
gains have been incidental to the applications of the method: that 
Schmidt has emphasized important problems in the historical narra- 
tive of Mark and that Dibelius' and Bultmann's classifications of 
"forms" have pointed out 'ihe characteristic and typical varieties 
of ways hi which the evangelists have told then* tale. But the 
suspicion arises whether the new views have not so much occasioned 
as been unconsciously occasioned by a new view of early Christian 
history and a new evaluation of it 6 and whether in the case of an 
ostensibly historical literature, historical and literary methods 
should not be made to check each other more rigorously. 

In connection with this large and formidable problem three 
aspects of formgeschichtliche criticism have been selected for brief 
consideration: (1) the theory of pericopes or sections, (2) the at- 
tempt to relate the gospels to the immediate needs of the early 
church, and (3) the general importance of historical interests in 
early Christianity. 

(1) The theory of literary composition which most of us have 
learned to accept is that the gospels are finished productions which 
owe then 1 form and literary texture to the authors who produced 
them. The possibility of written or oral sources has been admitted 
but it has been generally maintained that, whereas we are on secure 
ground when we criticize the gospels themselves, we enter a highly 
speculative realm when we attempt to go behind them and picture 
the stages of transmission through which the materials reached 
their authors. Exponents of the formgeschichtliche Methode, how- 
ever, have successfully overcome this sense of reserve and feel confi- 
dent not only hi reconstructing many of the sources but also in 
determining accurately their original forms. Leaving on one side 
detailed questions of literary classification, the view common to 
most representatives of the new school is that the gospels were 
composed of individual stories which had achieved an approximately 
finished form before they were incorporated in extensive biographies 
of Jesus. The critics should, therefore, survey the field from the 

6 It is interesting in this connection that both Bultmann's and Dibelius' critical 
works have been accompanied by new theological estimates of Jesus for which 
their criticism has laid the foundation. 


vantage point of these stories, not from the gospels themselves, 
and should work backward to the constituent elements of these 
isolated narratives sayings of Jesus and the scenery provided for 
them and forward to their combination by the evangelists. 

What is the evidence for this? Apart from purely a priori con- 
siderations which have played a considerable r61e in discussion, the 
facts are relatively simple and can be considered under three head- 
ings: (a) the existence of brief anecdotes like the woman taken hi 
adultery, the incident of the Bloody Sweat and the logia and frag- 
mentary anecdotes of the papyri; (b) signs of transparent connective 
tissue which permit the dismembering of our documents and the 
recovery of fragments of earlier gospel-like literature which illus- 
trate how and from what our gospels developed; and (c) apparent 
differences hi point of view between or within individual sections. 

(a) The existence at an early period of isolated sayings and anec- 
dotes of Jesus requires no discussion, as they are found not only 
in detached or easily detachable form in the examples just cited, 
but are evident enough hi the context-less sayings and fortuitously 
placed incidents in the gospels. Most, if not all of them are un- 
historical and tendentious, but they are products of a definite 
literary impulse and represent on a small scale what the gospels do 
on a large: a desire to know more about Jesus and a disposition to 
recall or invent his actions and words. They are minute but au- 
thentic literary pieces and, though they may rest on oral tradition, 
are not mere notes designed for larger works, but have been given 
definite literary form by individual authors. The existence of this 
Kleinliteratur, in the true sense of the word, however, is no proof 
that finished compositions like these invariably or regularly lay 
before the evangelists. The ultimate test for each section should, 
therefore, be that applied when interpolations are suspected, 
consistency in style and agreement in thought, and there is no 
ground for an initial predisposition toward a belief hi a gospel before 
the gospels where special evidence for independent literary existence 
is lacking. 

(b) In dealing with the question of connective tissue a distinction 
must be made between the inevitable devices by which the evan- 
gelists relate the individual incidents and sayings of their hero and 
those transitional elements which by their inappropriateness to 
then* present context appear to be survivals of an earlier process of 


Easton, whose attitude toward the new method is sympathetic 
but reserved, supplies several good examples of this type of form 
criticism. 'In Mk. 2: 1-3: 6', he says,? 'we have a collection of five 
controversies concluded by the words, "The Pharisees with the 
Herodians took counsel against him, how they might destroy him." 
But, as has often been noted, this stands much too early in the 
narrative and it is difficult to comprehend except as the original 
conclusion of a controversy-cycle which Mark had incorporated 
bodily. Or, noting that the wording of Mk. 3: 6 recurs in 12: 13 
at the beginning of another series of "forms," we may explain the 
earlier verse as an echo of what was the next phase in a cycle 
Mark had bi-sected.' But in reading the passage one is at a loss 
to understand the difficulty of comprehension. Mk. 3 : 6 concludes 
the anecdote about the man with the withered hand. The miracle 
occasions surprise and discussion and Jesus' critics are introduced, 
as frequently, by a verb without nominal subject, 'And they asked 
him whether he will heal him on the Sabbath, that they may 
accuse him.' Who these opponents were appears in 3:6, the 
Pharisees who left the synagogue and promptly took counsel with 
the Herodians how to dispose of Jesus. Here is no connective 
tissue, nor are the Herodians, who to be sure reappear in 12: 13, 
immediately involved in the dispute. To regard the verse as mis- 
placed connective tissue surviving out of context ignores the plain 
meaning of nal &-e\06vTes. The reason why the Pharisees went out 
of the synagogue, as 3 : 1 explains, was because they were inside. 
Furthermore it is quite perverse to say that 'The wording of Mk. 
3: 6 recurs in Mk. 12: 13.' The words which the two verses have 
in common are /cat, afodv and the proper names 'Pharisees' and 
'Herodians.' In the one case the Pharisees leave the synagogue to 
plot with Herod's men; in the other the high priest, scribes and 
elders send Pharisees and Herodians to trap Jesus in speech. 

'Again/ Easton observes, 8 'while Mark's fourth chapter is con- 
cerned chiefly with parables, its contents are united by the descrip- 
tion of Jesus' teaching from a boat. But this feature is certainly 
not due to the Evangelist for it is inconsistent with his own sur- 
charges. The same boat, moreover, is used to connect the parable 
scene with the next section and its movements make the transitions 
throughout this section.' Now it is evident that hi 4: 10 Mark 

7 op. cit. p. 71. 

8 op. cit. p. 72. 


strays from the strict course of the narrative to explain how Jesus 
always taught in parables and interpreted them privately to his 
disciples and in the course of this digression he introduces matter 
not strictly relevant to the scene in hand. The story is, however, 
perfectly consistent and the digression is as pointedly concluded 
at v. 35, where the parabolic method is again explained. It is also 
connected with the preceeding by the fact that the parable first 
interpreted is the one told from the boat. Nothing in the narrative 
is out of place and there is no sign of the survival of a clumsily 
transposed context. 

'But the most striking evidence of pre-Markan cycles,' continues 
Easton, 9 'appears in 6:30-8:26, the two parts of which (6:30- 
7:37 and 8: 1-26) are in extraordinary parallelism: a miraculous 
feeding, a journey across the lake, a controversy with the Pharisees, 
a departure from Galilee, a saying about bread, and a healing. 
As we cannot believe that Mark was consciously responsible for 
this long chain of doublets, we must suppose that the two series 
were circulated separately and that the Evangelist combined them.' 
Except in the most formal sense, however, there is no chain of 
doublets. The two stories of the feeding of the multitudes may 
fairly be described as doublets in the sense that two versions of 
the same story were undoubtedly known to Mark and instead of 
sacrificing one to the other or combining the two, he told them 
both. The connective tissue, however, remains strikingly his own 
and the proof is that in Jesus' discussion of the feeding in 8: 17 if. 
he refers specifically to both stories as separate events. The follow- 
ing chain becomes less impressive when its links are described con- 
cretely. After the feeding of the 5000 the disciples take a boat to 
Bethsaida and Jesus joins them by walking on the sea; after the 
feeding of the 4000 Jesus and his disciples travel by water to Dalma- 
nutha. In the first cycle this is followed by the dispute about 
ceremonial washing, in the second the Pharisees ask for a sign 
which Jesus refuses. Then comes the remark about defilement 
(which can scarcely be described 'as a saying about bread') and 
this is paralleled by the discussion of the feedings in 8: 14 if. 
Finally comes the healing of the Syro-Phoenician woman in the 
first series and the cure of the blind man at Bethsaida in the other. 
Clearly there are no doublets here except for the stories of the feed- 
ings, and the notion of two underlying parallel sources each con- 

9 op. cit. p. 72. 


taining 'a miraculous feeding, a controversy with the Pharisees, a 
departure for Galilee, a saying about bread, and a healing' pre- 
supposes two authors inexplicably desirous of producing cycles of 
this formal character, but selecting different materials for their 

(c) The problem of inconsistency between parts and wholes of 
of ancient documents is always difficult, for the difference of feeling 
for what should or should not hang together is one not only of 
individuals but of times. The demands of critics of the form- 
geschichtliche school on this point are unusually exacting and where 
they are not satisfied, give occasion for a minute analysis of the 
processes of composition. Bultmann's book is full of complaints 
that the situations in the gospels are inappropriate to the conversa- 
tions. For example, when Jesus eating with publicans and shiners 
meets the Pharisees' protest by saying: 'The strong have no need 
of a physician, but the sick. I came not to call the righteous, but 
sinners,' Bultmann 10 points out that we are not told where the 
Pharisees came from or when they entered the dining room, and 
although the "shiners" of the narrative section appear to be the 
same as those in Jesus' remark, his statement has no clear connec- 
tion with the story and must have been an isolated saying for 
which an infelicitous setting has been devised. 

Again, Bultmann claims 11 the story of the blind Bartimaeus can- 
not have been composed by Mark, since there is but one other 
example in the Synoptics (Mk. 5: 22) where a proper name is men- 
tioned hi connection with a miracle. 

The treatment of the incident of Caesarea-Philippi is more com- 
plicated. This, says Bultmann, 12 is a legend created by the com- 
munity. The mention of Caesarea-Philippi has survived from the 
source of the preceding narrative which has been perverted as a 
preface to Peter's confession. The account rests on a fragmentary 
base, the original conclusion of which is preserved not by Mark 
but by Matthew in the charge to Peter and the original setting 
was a post-resurrection narrative. Its purpose was to lend Jesus' 
own authority to the view that he was the Messiah. There is one 
objection to this, viz. that Jesus pointedly does not admit his 

10 Geschichte des synoptischen Tradition, (2nd edition) p. 16. 

11 op. cit. 

12 op. cit. 


Messiahship. But Bultmann meets this: Jesus' reply to Peter is 
the invention of Mark, the author's one contribution to the 

From these examples it is difficult to resist the impression that in 
spite of many acute observations in matters of detail, formgeschicht- 
liche Kritik in its broad lines marks a return to the methods of 
the 18th century rationalists. It is not primarily a literary but a 
philosophical and historical theory; its literary corollaries derive 
hi the main from a previously determined reconstruction of the 
facts of early Christian history and psychology. 

(2) We may now consider some of the connections maintained 
by the "Formgeschichtliche" between the early church and its 
earliest literary output. It should first be noted that we know 
very little about the spontaneous needs of the earlier Christian 
communities and therefore of what they would be likely to create 
to satisfy them. Most of our literature is either normative or arti- 
ficial. Paul's letters tell us much less of what the early Christians 
were than of what he wished them to become. From his point of 
view they were in need of specific moral instruction, a more sympa- 
thetic understanding of his own theology, and a higher sense of 
discipline in the regulation of worship and social life. What he 
tells us is that though some were virtuous, zealous and well behaved, 
others were quarrelsome, superstitious, incestuous, lax hi doctrine, 
and drunken at the Eucharist. The Book of Acts on the other 
hand gives a discreetly selective picture of the facts. It tells us 
the kind of sermons early Christians preached, the way some of 
them lived, the shape devotional interests were taking and the 
evolving attitudes towards new liturgical forms and novel theo- 
logical ideas. Neither the Pauline epistles nor the Acts provides a 
secure "seat hi life" for the gospel sections supposed to belong to 
their time. Jesus' words are not often cited as commands nor his 
acts as models for conduct and his miracles are not rehearsed as 
proofs of his power. His second coming, his Messiahship, his Lord- 
ship are insisted upon, but of plain historical facts only his existence 
as a human being and his last supper are evoked. It is curious 
indeed that no evidence of their use survives if, in the gospels, so 
many stories with a moral were invented for homiletic purposes, hi 
however broad a sense. Why, if the gospel sections were in con- 
stant circulation for homiletic purposes, do they survive only hi 


non-homiletic form? Why do we have so many materials for one 
kind of sermon, but, in the early period, only sermons of other 

(3) If we are to understand the immediate background of the 
gospels and the occasion for their composition we must start from 
the gospels themselves, the logia and independently attested peri- 
copes, and the apocryphal gospels. The psychology of this litera- 
ture is not hard to comprehend and can be summarized in the simple 
phrase "the desire to know more about Jesus." The evidence goes 
to show that information on this point in the first century was 
rare and difficult of access. There were a few who remembered and 
more who imagined they did and the Synoptics made as discreet a 
use as they could of these materials. The measure of their discre- 
tion can be taken from a comparison of their work with the Fourth 
Gospel, and later apocryphal productions. Why the novel desire 
for more information about Jesus seems to have made its appear- 
ance shortly after the year 70 is more difficult to explain. Two 
suggestions, neither quite new, may be made: (a) the pressure of 
christological interest which, hi spite of its variety, was constantly 
increasing in force; (b) the fall of Jerusalem. This event was im- 
portant not only for the Jews but also for Christians. For the 
Jews it was another shattering of the national hope; for the Chris- 
tians it was a break with their first settled home, the place whither 
then- Lord had led them, where he had died and risen again. It 
is no accident that the Synoptic gospels are more Jewish than 
Gentile; but Gentile Christians also were not unmoved by this nos- 
talgic sense. When St. Paul asked for money for the saints in 
Jerusalem, his claim was rooted in the ground of Palestine where 
Jesus lived and died. Local traditions thrive on native soil. When 
that soil is threatened, they must be transplanted to the field of 


Crozer Theological Seminary 

That at the time of the arrest of Jesus his followers fled back 
to Galilee in dismay would appear reasonably certain, hi spite 
of the silence of Luke-Acts which passes over this incident, or, 
perhaps better said, rewrites the Markan account hi such a way 
as to preclude it. Mark, to be sure, has no mention of this Galilean 
chapter, yet clearly indicates familiarity with the tradition of resur- 
rection appearances there: 

Howbeit, after I am raised up, I will go before you into Galilee. 1 
But go, tell his disciples and Peter, He goeth before you into Galilee: there shall 
ye see him, as he said unto you. 2 

Luke omits the former of these and transforms the latter to "Re- 
member how he spake unto you when he was yet hi Galilee . . ."* 
to accommodate it to his account. The traditional final parting 
of the risen Jesus from his disciples 4 and the moving story of the 
appearance by the lakeside and consequent dialogue with Peter 6 
evidence the fact that the Lucan view was not universally held but 
was apparently later and more conventionalized. Similarly Justin 
Martyr bears witness to the flight of the disciples "who repented 
of then* flight from him when he was crucified, after he rose from 
the dead." 6 

That behind these few obscure references lies a most significant 
incident for the history of early Christianity can scarcely be 
doubted. Would the disciples go back to their earlier tasks with 
the feeling that their dreams had been shattered by the hard facts 
of reality, "We had hoped that it was he who should redeem Is- 

1 Mark 14:28. 

2 Mark 16:7. 
8 Luke 24:6. 

4 Matt. 28:16-20. 

6 John 21:1-23. 

6 Dial. 106; Apol. i, 50 (end). 



rael," that the last word had been spoken and that it was failure; 
or would their confidence in him rally and be strong enough to 
face the problem of his apparent defeat and to transform it into a 
new ground for confidence in his victory? Many attempts have 
been made to explain how the latter conviction was achieved. One 
thing would appear probable. Before the band of erstwhile fol- 
lowers returned to the nation's capital they had achieved a confi- 
dence that their leader had not been defeated by death, which did 
not need to be bolstered up by the discovery of an empty tomb. 

Underlying the later conventional explanation of a series of super- 
natural appearances of the risen Lord which nerved them to their 
new task is the persistent reference to Simon or Cephas or Peter. 7 
Apparently Simon-Cephas-Peter are names of the same individual 
although this has been occasionally doubted (largely on the basis 
of the Epistle of the Apostle 2). That the most primitive element 
hi the resurrection stories is the enigmatic "The Lord is risen in- 
deed, and hath appeared unto Simon" has commended itself to 
many scholars as highly probable. In line with this the word 
"Simon, Simon, behold, Satan asked to have you, that he might 
sift you as wheat: but I made supplication for thee, that thy faith 
fail not; and do thou, when once thou hast turned again, establish thy 
brethren" 8 is highly significant. It is well worth considering whether 
the revived hopes of the early group are not largely to be accounted 
for by the initiative of this one disciple who in Acts appears at 
first as the leading figure in the Jerusalem circle, and about whom 
many traditions soon gathered, both as to his prominence during 
the days of Jesus' ministry and also of his denial and restoration. 
Coincident with the new confidence would appear to me to have 
been the firm belief that the "son of man," of whom Jesus had so 
often spoken, was none other than Jesus himself, now in heaven, 
whither he had been translated by God, and that he would speedily 
return to establish the kingdom and to take his seat upon the 
judgment throne. 

The purpose of this paper is to raise two questions: First, Is not 
the story of the Transfiguration based upon a tradition of the 
resurrection appearance to Peter referred to in Luke 24:34 and I 
Cor. 15:5? Second, Is not the story of Peter's famous confession 

7 Luke 24:34; I Cor. 15:5. 
8 Luke22:31f. 


at Caesarea Philippi the rewriting of an older story of the way 
Peter, once he had "turned again," had "established his brethren?" 
Once we free ourselves from the notion that the Gospel of Mark 
is a simple unstudied account, either the rescript of the early days, 
as he had transcribed it from the preaching of Peter, or the loose 
assembly of traditions which he had written down in no particular 
order and with no particular plan pebbles washed together by 
the swift-running stream but view it as a very carefully wrought 
out narrative evidencing skillful planning, careful selection of 
material, and an unhesitating readiness to revamp and rewrite 
these materials to make them fit the structure he was rearing, the 
stories of Peter's confession and of the subsequent Transfiguration 
appear in a new light. The former marks the turning point in 
the narrative. From the tune of the baptism Jesus knows who 
he is and the purpose of his mission, but carefully conceals it. 
None the less he expects eventually that his intimates will grasp 
it, for, unlike the rest, it was theirs to know the mystery of the 
kingdom. 9 In chapter 8 comes the climax: They are crossing the 
lake. They have seen the two miraculous feedings, of the 5000 and 
of the 4000; yet, although Jesus is in the boat, they can bewail 
their lack of bread! Jesus rebukes them, "Do ye not yet perceive, 
neither understand. ... Do ye not yet understand?" 10 Immedi- 
ately follows the story of the blind man who gams his sight, but 
at first only hi part, so that he sees men "as trees, walking." 11 
Whatever the original nature of the story may have been as the 
sober account of an actual event there are obvious difficulties: 
how did the blind man know what either trees or men looked like? 
as Mark has used it is of cardinal importance. It is immediately 
followed by the similar experience of Peter. From his eyes too at 
Caesarea Philippi the scales fall and he makes his famous con- 
fession. 12 But, like the man in the story, his sight at first is not 
clear, and he must be rebuked for his failure to see that suffering 
and death were a necessary part of Jesus' task. 13 Then follows the 
Transfiguration as its sequel. Peter has made his confession; 
God's answer comes from heaven, Peter was right, "This is my be- 

9 Mark 4:10 f. 

10 Mark 8:14-21. 

11 Markj8:22-26. 
11 Mark 8:31-33. 


loved son: hear ye him." The first word from heaven, at the 
time of the baptism, had been for Jesus' information, and had been 
addressed to him personally; the second is appropriately addressed 
to the disciples, and comes to confirm their dawning faith. Again 
Peter sees "men as trees, walking" "Rabbi, it is a good thing that 
we are here: let us make three tabernacles; one for thee, and one 
for Moses, and one for Elijah." 

That this arrangement and interpretation of these stories is due 
to Mark and not to any indication which they had showing under 
what circumstances they had occurred appears to me highly prob- 
able. Nor does the fact that Matthew and Luke accept the 
Markan arrangement alter the matter in the slightest degree. 
Here, as elsewhere in the so-called triple tradition, we have one 
witness, not three. Are there 1 any indications of the original 
nature of these two stories which Mark has so effectively used? 
As indicated on a previous page, I think there is. 

It has occasionally been suggested that underlying the narrative 
of the Transfiguration was a resurrection story. This appears to 
me highly probable. Moreover this story was apparently influ- 
enced by the strikingly similar story of the exploit of Moses in the 
mountain with its reference to the lapse of six days, the veiling 
clouds, and the vision of Jehovah. 14 That is, it was apparently 
originally the story of an appearance of the glorified Christ to some 
one rather than the transformation of him before the eyes of com- 
panions. Apparently there were many resurrection stories circu- 
lating in the early days, 16 which eventually dropped out of sight 
or were revamped. As an illustration of this transformation one 
thinks of Luke 5:1-11, apparently the same story as that in John 
21 :1-12, and which Luke has substituted for Mark 1 :16-20. 

But the point to be observed is that in our story of the Transfigu- 
ration (and the same is true of Luke 5:1-11) Peter holds the central 
place in the narrative. To be sure, James and John are present 
as in the Gethsemane narrative, but they are lay figures who 
contribute nothing to the action and whose presence might easily 
be dispensed with. May it not conceivably have been a narrative 
arising from Peter's confidence that Jesus had not been defeated 
but was in heaven, and influenced or embellished by the appearance 

14 Exod. 24:12-18. 

16 Cf. those presupposed in I Cor. 15:3-7. 


of Jehovah to Moses? The Exodus narrative may well be the rea- 
son that hi this vision of the story (cf . also the final parting in 
Matt. 28:16-20) a mountain and not the lakeside of Galilee is 
represented as the place of the appearance. 

The story of Peter's confession has long been a puzzle. As Mark 
introduces it, it is highly effective and an essential part of his 
thesis. But that his representation of a Messianic secret carefully 
guarded by Jesus is historical is at best doubtful. Did Jesus 
think of himself as the son of man of whom he often spoke? To 
an increasing number of scholars this has seemed most question- 
able. This skepticism I entirely share. Rather, Jesus appears to 
me to have considered himself the prophet of God, appointed 
anointed if one will to herald the approach of the kingdom and 
the coming of the supernatural final judge, whom he may well 
have referred to, in language reminiscent of the current interpre- 
tation of Daniel, as the 'son of man.' Moreover, the whole notion 
of the blindness of the disciples and of then* constant stupid mis- 
understanding of Jesus' words appears to me decidedly over- 
drawn in part through the representation of Mark, whose theory 
of the secret compelled such a deduction; in part through modern 
reluctance to allow Jesus to have held views which subsequent 
events failed to substantiate. If this fundamental assumption 
be made, there seems even less a place for the story of Jesus' 
pointless queries to Peter or of the latter's amazing reply. What 
then was the origin of the story? Is it simply a creation of Mark's 
brain? This I am inclined to doubt. Rather, as already suggested, 
I incline to see it arising from the same incident that made possible 
Jesus' traditional admonition to Peter "to strengthen his brethren." 

With amazingly few alterations the story would exactly fit the 
circumstances outlined in the early pages of this essay. To his 
disillusioned comrades, whose questions, expressed or unspoken, 
may well have been, "Who then was he?" Peter hi substance 
makes reply: "He is the son of man whose coming he constantly 

This confidence was contagious. At least the identification was 
apparently made the first stone in the imposing edifice of Chris- 
tology. What then more natural than that as the years went by 
the traditions that Jesus had, as the prophet of the kingdom, 
heralded the coming of the son of man, his greater successor, were 
gradually transformed and eventually were made the message of 


John the Baptist who thus became the forerunner of Jesus, his 
greater successor? 18 

As thus reconstructed, the historical incidents underlying the two 
accounts would have occurred hi the reverse order, as Schweitzer, 
on other grounds, maintained. To what extent the stories had 
become transformed during the years between the crucifixion and 
their utilization by Mark it is impossible to say. If, as appears 
to me highly probable, Mark was the first to make a definite at- 
tempt to give a connected and articulated narrative, there would 
probably have been few clues hi the separate traditions and legends 
indicating when, where, or under what circumstances Jesus had 
said or done this or that. Thus a compiler whose prime interest 
was to produce a chronological or biographical account might well 
have found himself confronting an insuperable task. Mark's aim, 
however, was far different. The absence of such data, far from 
being a hindrance, may well have encouraged him to utilize and 
interpret the materials as seemed to him best. Why and when, 
ft this conjecture be allowed, the scene of Peter's testimony came 
to be placed at Caesarea Philippi a most surprising place for it 
is perplexing. If we knew the answer to that query, perhaps 
fresh light might be shed on these dun, but highly fascinating, 
pages of the far past. 

16 For a fuller statement regarding this possible transformation of John, origi- 
nally an entirely independent figure, into Jesus' conscious forerunner, see my article, 
"Some Further Considerations Regarding the Origin of Christian Baptism," 
Crozer Quarterly viii, 1 (January, 1931), pp. 47-67. 


The Papias tradition which makes Peter the source for Mark's 
information would promise a uniformity in outlook throughout the 
Gospel of Mark which the text of the Gospel scarcely presents. 
There seems to be a major division of the Gospel into two parts. 
This division does not correspond to the change which takes place 
after Peter's confession at Caesarea-Philippi. The difference in the 
Gospel before and after this episode is dictated, if not by the 
events, at least by the contents of the tradition. The author is 
not entirely responsible for it. But there is a further change 
corresponding, not to any change in subject-matter, but to a shift- 
ing of the geographical scene. It corresponds roughly with the 
arrival of Jesus in Jerusalem. An examination of the Gospel sug- 
gests the hypothesis that the author's source of information changes 
at this point. 

My first observation is that the traditions in Part I 1 are much 
farther removed, by the process of transmission, from the events 
themselves than are the traditions of Part II. The presence of so 
many legendary elements in Part I, as compared with Part II, 
makes this fairly obvious. Part I contains accounts of many 
miracles which, in then* present form, cannot be accepted as being 
the observations even of enthusiastic and credulous eye-witnesses. 
Skin diseases are not ordinarily the sort of ailment that a healer 
like Jesus could have cured hi a moment (see i, 40-42) . The account 
of the Feeding of the Five Thousand (vi, 35-44) and its doublet, 
the Feeding of the Four Thousand (viii, 1-9), may, and probably do, 
have some historical event back of them, but the present form of 
the accounts is so far removed from that event that it is impossible 
to reconstruct it. The same must be said of the story of Jesus 
walking on the sea (vi, 47-51), 2 and of the cursing of the fig tree 
(xi, 12-14, 20-21), which apparently takes place outside Jerusalem. 

1 For convenience 'Part I' is used for all events which take place elsewhere 
than hi Jerusalem, Tart II' for events hi Jerusalem. 

2 Unless we appeal to Jn. vi, 21 b for a possible explanation. 



In contrast to these things, Part II contains very little that is 
miraculous. The three hours of darkness and the rending of the 
Temple veil at the tune of the crucifixion (xv, 33, 38) are the only 
remarkable features. The darkness is not incredible and may have 
been due either to clouds or to a sand storm. The rending of the 
Temple veil is quite enigmatic; if it were found in the Gospel of 
John or in the Epistle to the Hebrews, it might be given a symbolic 
explanation. In Part II Jesus himself performs no miracles. And 
even the account of Easter morning, as far as it goes, seems to be 
quite accurate. 8 Moreover, neither demons nor voices from heaven 
make their appearance in Part II; and although there may be less 
opportunity for, or less reason to expect, miracles, demons, and 
voices from heaven in Jerusalem than outside it, Mt. and Lk. 
succeed in introducing a modest portion of these features into their 
rewriting of the same events. In Mt.'s account of the crucifixion 
we have the earthquake, the opening of the tombs, and the resurrec- 
tion of many people (Mt. xxvii, 51 b -53), and at the resurrection we 
have another earthquake and the angel who rolls away the stone 
(Mt. xxviii, 2-4). In Lk.'s account of the Gethsemane scene Jesus 
heals the servant's ear (Lk. xxii, 51 b ). The non-western interpola- 
tion of the 'bloody sweat' (Lk. xxii, 43-44) shows the same tend- 
ency. The relative scarcity of supernatural elements here even 
in Mt. and Lk. tends to emphasize their dependence on Mk. 

To sum up, the traditions in Part II seem to have been trans- 
mitted to us much more directly than those in Part I. 

Let me deal now with some of the more general features, viz., 
the apologetic motives and interests, the impressions which events 
made on then- transmitters, the general atmosphere, outlook, and 
emotional tone. (One may be accused of "subjective criticism" 
in discussing such points as these, but the only possible test is to 
submit them to the judgment of others.) 

In Part I there are several apologetic motives which are not con- 
tinued in Part II. The most generally recognized motive in Mk. 
is the desire to prove that Jesus is the Son of God. In Part I 
demons (i, 24 and 34; iii, 11; v, 7), voices from heaven (i, 11; ix, 7), 
the disciples (viii, 29; x, 37), and miracles (ii, 10; iv, 41; vi, 39-44, 
48; et al.) all bear witness that Jesus is a supernatural person, 
though not always specifically "Son of God." In Part II we have 

8 See K. Lake, The Historical Evidences of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, 
especially pp. 250-252. 


reference to Jesus as Son of God, Son of Man, and Messiah, but all 
such claims are made by Jesus himself. There are no substan- 
tiating witnesses, not even hi Gethsemane or at Golgotha. [The 
centurion's words, "Truly this man was a Son of God," (xv, 39) 
cannot be taken in any but a general sense, particularly as the 
article is lacking from v'ios and the verb is an imperfect.] 

In Part I demons bear witness to Jesus' supernatural character. 
Part II, having no demons, does not. continue this motif. In Part I 
the parables are thought of as a device for hiding Jesus' secret from 
the crowds. Part II contains only one parable, that of the hus- 
bandmen (xii, 1-12), the meaning of which is (and was!) quite 
evident. In Part II Jesus does not wish his Messiahship to be kept 
a secret, as he does in Part I. 

The leading motifs of Part I, then, do not seem to be continued 
in Part II. 

I think that a change can be detected also in the emotional tone 
and coloring. It is generally recognized that before Caesarea- 
Philippi the outlook is optimistic and Jesus' mission is developing 
successfully. Then, at Caesarea-Philippi, the shadow of death 
hovers over the scene and continues until the end. But is the 
shadow which hovers over the Jerusalem scene identical with the 
one which overshadowed the way thither from Caesarea-Philippi? 
Prior to his arrival in Jerusalem Jesus accepts the prospect of 
death resolutely, as being a necessary part of his r61e, and never 
entertains the possibility that it might be avoided (viii, 31-33; x, 
33-34). The expectation of the resurrection is a natural sequel 
(viii, 31; ix, 31; x, 34). But how can we relate this attitude to the 
prayer in Gethsemane or the cry from the cross? Part I has not 
prepared us for these. There is a lack of continuity. 

The process of writing is usually accompanied by an emotional 
experience associated with the characters and events being depicted. 
Not infrequently the reader is conscious of these feelings on the 
part of his author. It seems that the events in Part II of Mk. are 
described with an emotional background quite distinct from any- 
thing in Part I. The emotional outlook in Part I is similar to that 
often found in evangelistic and homiletic people; it is the partially 
assumed optimism and assurance of one who has a doctrine to 
maintain or a cause to promote. The emotional background of 
Part II, on the other hand, might be compared to that created by 
a good dramatist for a tragedy; it is the result of an emotional im- 


pression unconditioned by apologetic factors. The trial and cruci- 
fixion of Jesus are told with an astonishing amount of emotional 
reserve; yet we can feel that the author is reviewing events which 
arouse in him a feeling of tremendous pathos. The story of the 
passion and death of Jesus in Mk. is the record of an experience, 
and it appears to have been an experience which was unrelieved by 
the assurance that the resurrection would follow. We may have 
here the record of an experience formed before the resurrection and 
not altered noticeably by it. 

The differences described above seem to be real enough and 
important enough to justify setting forth the following suggestions 
at least as hypotheses: first, that the author of the Gospel of Mark 
did not receive his information all from the same ultimate source 
or line of tradition (Peter, e.g.); second, that the information in 
Part II was gathered much more directly and has reached us much 
less altered than that in Part I; and third, that certain personal 
characteristics of the transmitter of Part II are discernible. 

What explanation can be given for these phenomena? Professor 
Burkitt (among others) suggested that the young man in Geth- 
semane (xiv, 51-52) might well have been John Mark, and that we 
are indebted to his own reminiscences for a good portion of the 
account of the Last Supper and the Gethsemane scene. 4 This is 
made plausible by supposing that the Last Supper may have been 
in Mark's mother's house, mentioned in Acts as a meeting-place 
for the disciples (Ac. xii, 12). Burkitt points out how vivid is the 
report of the Gethsemane scene, although none of the disciples was 
awake to witness it. This theory, if carried a bit farther, could be 
used to explain the features of the Gospel now under discussion. 
Let us suppose that Mark not only knew of the Last Supper and 
witnessed the Gethsemane scene, but that he also inquired into the 
details of the trial and may have witnessed the crucifixion. We 
do not know of a more likely source for this information than John 
Mark. He lived in Jerusalem. And the fact that he undertook 
to write what was probably the first 'gospel' shows his interest hi 
some features, at least, of the life of Jesus. This theory would 
explain the uniform emotional temper with which all of these scenes 
are recorded. It might also explain the greater reliability with 
which they are reported. Their reporter was a remarkably level- 

4 J. T. S., xvii (1916), p. 296; Christian Beginnings, pp. 88-89. 


headed and accurate observer for the first century, without any 
decided theories or apologetic motives tp serve, and lacking a tend- 
ency to see supernatural manifestations. He merely passed on 
accurately what he knew, just as, presumably, he passed on without 
noticeable change the traditions of Part I which he received. 

As for the sources of Mark's Gospel, then, I would attribute the 
closing scenes to the author himself. Specifically, I would include 
in this group with some amount of certainty the Gethsemane scene 
(xiv, 32-65), the trial before the Sanhedrin, the trial before Pilate, 
the crucifixion, and the visit of the women to the tomb (xv, i-xvi, 8). 
Vss. 1-8 of ch. xvi, with the exception of the mention of Galilee 
(vs. 7), seem an accurate report by Mark of what might have 
happened. 6 It would be common knowledge among those remain- 
ing in Jerusalem. In addition I would think it reasonable that 
Mark knew something on his own account about the Last Supper 
(xiv, 17-26). Mark may have witnessed the cleansing of the 
Temple (xi, 15-18), and the disputes in the Temple (ch. xii), or he 
may have derived this information elsewhere; there is little to help 
one decide. 8 The information of Judas' dealings with the authori- 
ties (xiv, 10-11) may well have been gathered by Mark. Ch. xiii, 
if genuine, 7 is more likely to have been a tradition kept among the 
Twelve and proceeding from them. The anointing at Bethany 
(xiv, 3-9) is more likely to have proceeded from the Twelve also. 

Tentatively accepting Mark as the source for these sections, then, 
what shall we suppose was the source (or sources) of his information 
for the rest of the Gospel? Does the Papias tradition about Peter 
and Mark account satisfactorily for the first part of the Gospel? 

Several points can be put forward against this. One is the fact 
that the Gospel has two accounts of the miraculous feeding (vi, 
35-44 and viii, 1-9). Would Peter, in telling this story twice, have 
varied to such an extent that Mark thought he was telling of two 
different events? Possibly, but I think not very likely. More- 
over, would not Mark have had a more reliable account of what 

6 See note 3. 

6 Part of ch. xii (vss. 13-27) may be related to the collection of disputes in ii, 
13-iii, 6 on account of the mention of the Herodians in both places. But to 
argue that the same Herodians would not be found both in Jerusalem and in 
Galilee is just as absurd as saying that Jesus and his party could not have been 
in both localities. See B. S. Eastoh, "A Primitive Tradition in Mark," in Studies 
in Early Christianity, ed. by S. J. Case, pp. 88-93. 

7 1 cannot here discuss the historical and literary problems involved in ch. xiii. 



actually happened at this miraculous feeding, one capable of ex- 
planation, if he had learned of it directly from an eye-witness? 
The answer to this question depends largely on what one thinks of 
Peter's ability to see the miraculous. 8 

It is thought by some that the parallelism of the accounts here 
extends beyond the feedings themselves. 

The order of events is: 9 

1st aeries (vi, 85-wi, 37) 

""Miraculous feeding 

*Disciples cross sea (Jesus joins them 
walking on the water) 

* Arrival at Gennesaret 

Acclaim by the crowd 

"Opposition from the Pharisees (Dis- 
course against them) 

*Withdrawal to the district of Tyre 
(and Sidon) 10 

Return by a dubious route "through 
Sidon" (see below) 

*Difficult cure of a dumb man by the 
use of saliva in the Decapolis terri- 
tory, possibly Bethsaida (see below) 

2nd series (viii, 1-27) 

*Miraculous feeding 

'"Jesus and the disciples cross the 

'"Arrival at Dalmanutha 

"Opposition from the Pharisees 

"Withdrawal to "the opposite side" 
(Discourse on the leaven of the 
Pharisees. Cp. preceding point of 
1st series.) 

"Difficult cure of a blind man by the 
use of saliva at Bethsaida 

Departure for Caesarea-Philippi 

The similarities contained hi these two accounts provide some 
reason for considering them parallel, in spite of much difference in 
detail. The legendary features assure us that we are none too 
close to the events. Gennesaret and Dalmanutha imply the same 
territory. Wellhausen 11 attempts to simplify the difficult return 
route "through Sidon" by the conjecture that the 1TI3 which he 
supposes underlies 8i& 2idvos should be translated els Bi}<rffai8d.j>, a 

8 1 am indebted to Prof. R. P. Casey for pointing out to me the bearing on this 
question of Lucian's De Morte Peregrine, in which an old man swears that he saw 
the raven of Lucian's romance. This is a good example of credulity, but it 
was based on suggestion. The accounts of the miraculous feedings are not quite 
so easily explained as this. 

9 Possible doublets are marked with an asterisk. 

10 This is certainly a good example of a "Western non-interpolation." DLWA0 
28 565 ab ff i n r 1 Syr" Or. om. "And Sidon" was suggested to the KB text by the 
dta SiSwws of vs. 31. 

11 Das Evangelium Hard, p. 57-58. 


spelling "incorrect and phonetic, but easily the original in Mark." 
If this be so, the tradition assigns both of the difficult cures to 
Bethsaida. The first cure further resembles the second in its diffi- 
culty and in the peculiar method used (as well as hi its being rejected 
by Mt. and Lk.) ; they may be the same. If so, the second account 
is the better one. The first account is so general that a "dumb" 
man could have been substituted later by mistake for the "blind" 
man without any alteration in the story. Jesus' movements could 
be reconstructed as follows: the miraculous feeding; crossing the 
sea to the western shore (Gennesaret, Dalmanutha) ; withdrawal to 
Bethsaida, on the "opposite side," due to the opposition of the 
Pharisees; the difficult cure there; the withdrawal to the north. 
The journey to and from Tyre (and Sidon) in series one should be 
identified with the single journey northward following the difficult 
cure, including Caesarea-Philippi going or (preferably) returning. 
The withdrawal to the north would terminate the Galilean ministry. 
Jesus passes through Galilee again only on his way to Jerusalem. 

I have discussed this in detail because of its bearing on our 
problem. If these are parallel traditions of the same period in 
Jesus' ministry, it is improbable that Mark got both of them from 
Peter; they differ too much and are too confused for that. Mark 
must have received them from separate sources. Peter, then, could 
be only one of two or more sources for Part I. 

Whether or not Mark used any written sources has never been 
satisfactorily proven. Contrary to the general impression, the 
usually recognized "characteristics" of Mark's style are not uni- 
formly distributed, and they are noticeably sparce in what I have 
designated as Part II. 12 The only persistent one is the constant 
xal . . . Kal . . . Kal method of connecting sentences, and any Ara- 
maic-speaking person, unfamiliar with the wealth of connective 
particles in the Greek language, would consider Kal the inevitable 
translation for the constantly recurring Semitic waw. That written 
sources are incorporated in Mark is quite likely, and the division 
of Mark into Parts I and II gains some slight support from the 
standpoint of style. The extent and importance of this, if any, 
is yet to be determined. 

12 Check the distribution of the "Characteristics" given, for example, in Swete's 




Bryn Mawr College 

Since the publication of Professor Lake's discussion 1 of Saint 
Paul's journeys in Asia Minor J. B&ard 2 in an article upon the same 
subject has offered some new suggestions which are worthy of con- 
sideration. As his article did not appear hi a journal devoted to 
Biblical studies and some of his conclusions do not seem to me to 
carry conviction I wish to discuss here a number of the points he 
has brought forward and to incorporate at the same tune some of 
the results of my own study of the topography and road system of 
Asia Minor hi Roman tunes. The discussion takes the form of 
three notes, the first on the route from Perge to Antioch-toward- 
Pisidia, the second on the Regio Phrygia Galatica, and the third 
on the road to Alexandreia Troas. 


The text of Acts (XIII, 14) gives us no help regarding this stage 
of Saint Paul's first journey. We can only attempt to decide what 
was topographically and historically the most probable route. 
Ramsay 8 believed that he went up one of the eastern branches of 
the Kestros river to Kara Bavlo (Adada), the modern name of 
which he thinks is a reminiscence of Saint Paul, and then either 
followed a path along the southeastern shore of Egerdir Lake or, 
and more probably, turning northeastward among the mountains 
about the sources of the Eurymedon, came out near Lake Caralis 
in the valley of Phrygia Paroreia. There are two objections to this 
view: first, a Turkish corruption of Saint Paul's name is more likely 
to become Ayo Bavlo than Kara Bavlo, 4 and second, it is hard to 

1 The Beginnings of Christianity, Part I, Vol. IV (Additional Note XVIII), 

2 Rev. Arcteol., Ser. VI, V (1935), 57-90. He does not quote Lake's discussion. 
Church in the Roman Empire, 13-22 (1893). 

4 Lake, op. dt., 224. 



believe that there was a frequented highway beyond Adada through 
the rough country and the culturally backward communities about 
the sources of the Eurymedon. 8 The only alternative to Ramsay's 
view would bring the apostle from Perge to the plateau of Asia 
Minor by one or the other of two passes 6 northwest of the city, 
both of which had been in regular use for centuries, but there are 
equally strong objections to the more western pass and the branch 
of the road built under Augustus, the Via Sebaste, 7 with which it 
connected. It would be a very circuitous route for one whose des- 
tination was Antioch and would raise the question why he did not 
go to Apameia, which lay near the road, was an important trading 
city, and had a considerable number of Jewish residents. 8 One 
feels pleased therefore to find Bfrard using the results of an Italian 
archaeological expedition undertaken in 1919 9 to suggest a middle 
route which, ran almost directly northward from the eastern pass, 
the Klimax by way of Cremna, Sagalassus, and Baris to Pros- 
tanna at the south end of Egerdir Lake, thence along the south- 
eastern shore of the lake to the Anthios valley below Antioch. As 
in the case of many of the roads of western Asia Minor, where few 
milestones have been found, the existence of this road cannot be 
completely proved for the Roman period. A succession of fine and 
well-spaced Seljuk khans, Evdir, Kirk Goz, Susuz, Incir, one east 
of Egerdir Lake, and so on to Konya prove that it was commercially 

6 See Sterrett, Wolfe Exped., 277-309 (1888) on his travels in this region. Most 
of the inscriptions belong to the late second century or afterwards. The imperial 
coinage of Adada begins with Domitian, Head, Hist. Num? 705, of Pednelissos 
with Trajan, ib., 709, of Tymbriada with Hadrian, ib., 712. On Adada, Tym- 
briada, and the land of Ouramma see Ramsay, Klio, XXIII (1929-30), 245-247, 
and Jour. Hell. Stud., XXXVIII (1918), 139-150. On brigandage in the time 
of Augustus, cf. Strabo, XII, 7, 2 (570). 

6 One led up by Termessus, an old Pisidian city, cf. Heberdey in P.-W. s. v. 
Termessus; the other, the Klimax, was certainly in use in the third century 
B.C., cf. Polyb. V, 72. See discussions by Paribeni, Annuario d. Scuola Arch., 
Ill (1916-20, pub. 1921), 73-78; Paribeni and Romanelli, Man. Ant., XXIII 
(1914), 241-247; Rott, Kleinas. Denkmakr, 23 f.; Ramsay, C. and B., I, 325. 

7 A milestone at Comama, C. I. L., Ill, 6974, marked 122 miles, almost cer- 
tainly from Antioch. On this road, see Ramsay, Klio, XXIII (1929-30), 249 f.; 
Plate V in Ann. Brit. Sch. Ath., IX (1902-3); Cronyn, Jour. Hell. Stud., XXII 
(1902), 109 f. By a slip B6rard has dated it in 6 A.D. instead of 6 B.C. 

8 Strabo, XII, 8, 15 (578); in 62 B.C. the Jews of the region of Apameia con- 
tributed almost 100 pounds of gold for the temple tax, Cicero, Pro Flacco, 68. 

9 Pace, Annuario VI/VII (1923-4 pub. 1926), 383-393. 


important in mediaeval times. Since it connected a series of ancient 
cities which were well-developed and important before the tune of 
Augustus it is reasonable to suppose that it was used hi antiquity 
and was available for Saint Paul. 10 It avoids the difficulties of 
Ramsay's route, and is not so circuitous as the Via Sebaste. 


Ramsay" believed that the phrase r1iv$pvyiav teal TaXarudiv x<&pai w 
hi the account of Saint Paul's second journey (Acts, XVI, 6) re- 
ferred to a sharply defined ethnic and administrative subdivision 
of the province of Galatia which (equating x&po. to the Latin 
technical term regio) was probably called the Regio Phrygia Gala- 
tica. Professor Lake 18 has pointed out many of the objections to 
this interpretation adding "there is no evidence for this use (x^pa 
= regio) in Galatia except Ramsay's claim that an inscription of 
Antioch which reads fKarovrapxriv [?]eyeuvaptov should be completed 
by reading a p f or the missing letter, as Sterrett first thought, and 
not a X as he afterwards preferred." Calder saw the stone again 

10 These were all places of importance before the time of Saint Paul. Cremna, 
an Augustan colony, Strabo, XII, 6, 5 (569); Sagalassus, Livy, XXXVIII, 15, 9 
(early II cent.), and coinage from Augustus, Head, Hist. Num.? 710; Bans was 
less important (corns from Hadrian, ib., 707) but Prostanna was known in the 
second century B.C., Ramsay, Ann. Brit. Sch. Ath., IX (1902-3), 257 f., and 
KKo, XXIII (1929-30), 244 f. 

11 The Church in the Roman Empire, 74 f.; St. Paul, The Traveller and Roman 
Citizen, 194 f. 

* 2 Be"rard has made three suggestions worthy of consideration in interpreting 
this troublesome phrase: 1. In the inscriptions of Asia Minor the adjective ending 
in t(c6$ with the word tirapxda occurs as an alternative to listing the many 
separate territories which had been lumped together to form the provinces of 
Galatia and Cappadocia, cf. I. G. R. P., Ill, 263; Inscr. v. Pergamum, 436, 438, 
440, 443, 451; Dessau, I. L. S., 8819; Abh. Berl Akad., 1932, no. 5, 40 f. 2. The 
analogies of Acts XIX, 21 and XV, 41 tend to show that the absence of the article 
here does not prevent the phrase from referring to two distinct territories. (In 
all the passages however upon which Be*rard relies the manuscripts vary so in 
inserting and omitting the article that they afford no good basis for interpreting 
any.) 3. Acts XIX, 1 apparently brings Paul over the same course on his 
third journey but differs from this passage in reversing the order of the phrases 
and emphasizing by means of the adverb Ka0e$js the exact order of the journey. 
Acts XVI, 6 may therefore be an example of the sort of hysteron proteron which 
often occurs in hasty or summary description. Saint Paul, coming from the east, 
passed through Galatian territory and then through Phrygia. 

18 Op. cit. (note 1), 234 f. 


in 1911 and verified the reading; /& is correct. 14 We can go farther 
however than Professor Lake and say that the technical sense of 
the word regio in Roman administration shows that the inscrip- 
tion, though correctly read, has no bearing upon the question at 
issue, a conclusion which may help to lay the ghost of Ramsay's 

The word normally used to describe an administrative subdivision 
within a province was not regio but conventus, an assize district. 
Pliny continually lists the communities of Asia and of Spain under 
their conventus. 16 The equivalent word hi Greek was Siol/njaw which 
was used in this sense in Asia 16 and became in Africa 17 the regular 
term for the administrative subdivisions of the proconsular legates. 
In our Asiatic sources the word regio is used in two different senses. 
In Pliny the context of such phrases as regio Milesia, or Apamena, 
or Eumenetica as well as the parallel account of the official organiza- 
tion in conventus shows that they have no administrative implica- 
tions but are merely geographical terms. The second and more 
technical meaning is found only after the administration of the 
imperial estates was reorganized by the Flavian emperors. In this 
sense it is a subordinate territory in the administration of the im- 
perial estates and has nothing to do with the administrative divi- 
sions of a province. Regio has this meaning both in Africa and in 
Asia. 18 The regionary centurion of the inscription of Antioch be- 
longed to the service of the local subdivision of the imperial estates. 
The two facts that it is a third century inscription and that the 
imperial estates did not extend widely until the second and third 
centuries of the empire 19 confirm our conclusion that the inscription 
is irrelevant for the days of Saint Paul. With this disappears all 
the Galatian evidence for Ramsay's view. 

"Sterrett, Epig. Jour., nos. 92-3; Calder, Jour. Rom. Stud., II (1912), 80-84. 

15 H. N., V, 91-VI, 17 passim; on Spain, IV, 110-122 passim. 

16 Strabo, XIII, 4, 12 (628), where the statement that the Romans took little 
account of ethnic boundaries in their organization should have been a warning. 

tf Dessau, 7. L.S., 1061, 1126. 

18 In Africa, cf. Mommsen, Eph. Epig., V, 105-120; C. /. L., VIII, pp. 1301- 
1338; Dessau, 7. L. S., 1139, 1437, 1439, 1440, 1484, 1486, 9012; Cagnat, Inscr. 
Lot. Afr., 568. In Asia, I. G. R. P., IV, 1651 = Dittenb., 0. G. I. S., 526: /3oi?0ds 
kmrpoiruv fayiwvos f&iXaSeX^njMjs ; cf. Broughton, Trans. Amer. Philol. Assoc., 
LXV (1934), 222 and the literature cited there. 

19 Broughton, op. cit. and on the estates at Antioch esp. 231-3. 



Saint Paul proceeded through 'Galatian territory and Phrygia' 
until he came to a point which is described as xard T^V Mvffiw, then, 
being forbidden to enter Bithynia, he went through Mysia to Troas. 
The text of Acts, XVI, 8 reads as follows: Trapekdbvrcs dk rfy Mvalav 
KttTtpriffav ds Tpw&Sa. The point in northern Phrygia near Mysia to 
which he came may possibly be Dorylaion which commanded the 
best road into Bithynia from the south, but it may just as well be 
some other town in northern Phrygia. We cannot however follow 
Be'rard in making Dorylaion the starting-point of Saint Paul's 
journey to Troas. The spurs of the Mysian Olympus extend too 
far south. The conditions of our problem, that he avoided Asia 20 
and could not enter Bithynia, make it almost inevitable that he 
started his westward journey from Kotiaeion or some point only 
slightly south of it. The few roads which in ancient (or in modern) 
tunes have crossed the rough and undeveloped country of Mysia 
Abrettene and Mysia Abbaeitis radiate from Kotiaeion. 21 

The text of Acts gives no help in deciding his route, for the word 
irape\Q6vTcs may or may not mean 'skirting' (we shall see that it 
probably does not) and Kartfaffav does not certainly imply that 
Troas was the first point he touched upon the coast after coining 
down from the interior. It is impossible therefore to proceed 
beyond a conjecture, but since one route is more probable than the 
others and the one generally assumed is the least likely of all, dis- 
cussion may be profitable. 

Both Ramsay and Be'rard 22 believe that Saint Paul followed the 
Rhyndakos valley near the borders of Mysia and Bithynia until 
he reached the country about Cyzicus and then skirted the shores 

20 Professor Lake (op. cit., 229 f .) has shown that Asia as used here most probably 
means west-central Asia Minor, not the province, and did not include Phrygia, 
Mysia, and Galatia. It is the Asia of Acts, II, 9 f . and of the Apocalypse. 

21 The best detailed maps of the regions under discussion are those of Kiepert, 
Asia Minor, 1 ,440,000, B I, Ayvalik, and B II, Brusa; and of Philippson, "Reisen 
und Forschungen im westh'chen Kleinasien," hi Petermanns Mitteilungen, Ergan- 
zungshefte, 167 (1910) = I; 177 (1913) = III; and cf. text of III, 87 f. 

22 St. Paul, The Traveller etc., 197; Be'rard, op. cit. (note 2), 82 f. The mile- 
stones which Be'rard cites, C. I. L., Ill, 7178 = 14201, 7179, 7180, were all found 
within the territory of Cyzicus and are no evidence for a road hi the Rhyndakos 
valley. No. 7181 belongs to Qanak Kale in the Troad! The Byzantine Vita 
Eubioti mentions a church founded by Paul Silas in the village of Poketos near 
Cyzicus; the source is hardly to be trusted. 


of the Marmora and the Hellespont until he came to Troas. There 
are two minor objections to this view. It is a circuitous route to 
Troas, and there is no mention of a stop at the large and important 
commercial city of Cyzicus which must have supplied many of the 
conditions suitable for Saint Paul's work. But the most important 
objection is that the travellers who have studied the topography of 
the Mysian highlands, Munro and Anthony, Wiegand, Philippson, 28 
and others, all agree that the rough, narrow, and circuitous gorge 
of the Rhyndakos valley above Kestelek never became a highway 
of any importance. The only city known within that valley, 
Hadriani-ad-Olympum, 24 was founded in the second century and 
grew because it commanded the spot where a track from Prusa to 
the south crossed the river. The Rhyndakos valley is the least 
likely route. 

There are two other possibilities. A modern and mediaeval route 
runs westward from Kotiaeion to Hadrianutherae (Balikesir) along 
the line of a depression which divides the Mysian highlands into a 
northern and a southern portion and is followed for the most part 
by the newly constructed railroad. If this were a road hi general 
use in Saint Paul's day it would appear to be the most direct and 
likely route, but it is open to the objection that except for Hadrian- 
eia (Balat), 26 which is obviously a second century foundation, we 
know the names of no ancient sites upon it. Eastern Mysia how- 
ever is still poorly explored and the sites of several cities which are 
known only by their coins still remain undiscovered. 28 So far as 
we know the development of city life and communications in Mysia 
Abrettene and the region about Olympus, which was still troubled 
by brigandage hi the second century, dates from the reign of 
Hadrian. 27 These considerations incline the balance of probability 

28 Munro and Anthony, Geograph. Jour., IX (1897), 150-168, 256-276, esp. 
257, 263 f.; Wiegand, Athen. Mitt., XXIX (1904), 254-339, esp. 329-339; Philipp- 
son, III (note 21), 64-68. In Strabo's description of Olympene [XII, 8, 8 (575)] 
Mannert's emendation eu vvvoiKovnevos does not correspond to the historical and 
geographical facts; the ms. reading oi> should be retained. 

24 See note 23; coins from Hadrian on, Head, Hist. Num., 2 528. 

25 Wiegand, op. cit., 327 f.; Munro, Jour. Hell. Stud., XVII (1897), 290, and 
XXI (1901), 229 f.; coins from Hadrian on, Head, loc. cit. 

28 E.g. Attaos and Germe. Cf. L. Robert, Villes d'Asie Mineure, 171-201, 
and esp. 197 f. 

27 On the development of Mysia Abrettene and Abbaeitis, see Broughton, 
op. cit. (note 18), 223 f . On brigandage, Strabo, XII, 8, 9 (575), under Augustus, 
and Lucian, Alexander, 2, II cent. med. 


strongly in favour of the most southerly route which ran from 
Kotiaeion by way of Aizanoi to the lake of Synaos and the upper 
Makestos valley. Here the conditions of our problem are best met. 
The road is quite practicable; it lies wholly within Phrygia and 
Mysia; it connects a series of communities which existed and give 
indications of intercommunication and development before the time 
of Saint Paul. Aizanoi is an old Phrygian city. The former tribal 
union of Mysia Abbaeitis had already broken down before Saint 
Paul's tune to form the cities of Synaos and Ankyra Sidera. 
Slightly to the north lay the new city of Tiberiopolis, and the 
Makestos valley provided an open passage to the west. 28 At Sin- 
derci where the Makestos turns northward there branched off a 
road leading to the Caicus valley, to Thyateira and to Pergamum, 
but since these cities belonged to the Asia of our text it follows 
that Saint Paul turned north to Hadrianutherse which must have 
been a center of some importance even before it was granted the 
status of a city by Hadrian. 29 From here there radiated roads to 
Cyzicus, to Bithynia and the Bosporus, to the Caicus and Hermus 
valleys, and southwest to Adramyttion and the southern coast of 
the Troad. 80 Saint Paul's route from Hadrianutherae to Troas 
appears less certain. Munro 81 once suggested a course directly west 
to the upper waters of the Aisepus, thence over the divide and 
down the Scamander to Skepsis and Troas but a better acquaint- 
ance with the terrain led him to give up this theory. This leaves 
as the most probable way the fairly easy and, in modern times at 
least, well-travelled road from Hadrianutherse to Adramyttion, 
thence along the south coast of the Troad to Assos and across the 

28 On Aizanoi, Strabo, XII, 8, 12 (576); coins from Augustus, Head, op. cit., 
664; coins of Synaos from Nero, ib., 685; of Ancyra Sidera from Nero, ib., 665; 
of Tiberiopolis perhaps from Tiberius or Claudius ib., 687 f. 

29 Hadrianuthera was probably a temple territory and slow in changing to 
municipal institutions. See on the temple of Zeus, and the estates of the family 
of Aristeides, who was a native, and whose father was priest of Zeus, Boulanger, 
Aelius Aristide, lllf. Good communications with Kotiaeion in the second 
century are probable since Aristeides at the age of twelve went to study with the 
famous grammaticus, Alexander of Kotiaeion, Orations, XXXII (Keil). See Vita 
Hadr., 20; and Head, op. cit., 528. 

80 On the roads from Hadrianutherse, see Philippson, I, 57 f.; Hasluck, Cyzicus, 
131 f. On that to Adramyttion, esp. Philippson, I, 29 f., and 57; Wiegand, 
op. cit., 262 f ., and 337. 

* l Geograph. Jour., IX (1897), 257; Jour. Hell Stud., XXI (1901), 234 f. 


corner of the peninsula to Troas. He would then have repeated 
the stage from Assos to Troas in a reverse direction upon his return. 
It may be objected that this route from Kotiaeion to Troas can 
under no circumstances be described as 'skirting' Mysia, for Hadri- 
anutherae lies in the heart of the Mysian territory. My answer is 
that irape\66vTs is vague hi meaning and it was probably a realiza- 
tion of the geographical facts that prompted the reading 8ie\66vTfs 
in Codex Bezae and the reading cum transissent autem Mysiam in 
the corresponding Lathi version. Should the value of speculating 
upon the exact routes of Saint Paul's journeys be called into ques- 
tion we may remember that the texts concerning them are our best 
evidence both for the ease and for the actual lines of communica- 
tions hi Asia Minor in the first century. 



Radcliffe College 

While Paul was waiting for Silas and Timothy in Athens, accord- 
ing to Acts ". . . he argued in the synagogues with the Jews and 
the worshippers and in the Agora every day with those who chanced 
to be there." 2 

The hypothetical picture of the important buildings Paul saw 
and then' relative positions in the Agora has been given a kaleido- 
scopic twist as a result of the American excavations hi the past 
few years. 8 

If Paul approached Athens from the north as he arrived from 
Beroea, he would probably have entered the city through the 
Dipylon Gate, whether he came by land or sea, for the Dipylon was 
both the principal northern gate and the regular entrance for those 
coming up from Peiraios. Paul would have walked up the slightly 
sloping road, after coming through the gate, between various im- 
posing stoai and sanctuaries, and then would have reached the row 
of Hermai which marked the entrance to the Agora proper. 4 These 
Hermai were terminated at the left by the famous Hermes Agoraios 
and the Stoa Poikile 5 (Paus. i. 15. 1) and at the right by the Stoa 
Basileios (Paus. i. 3. 1). In the excavations of the American 
School, both these stoai seem to be unaccountably missing from the 
picture; it can only be assumed that they lie farther to the north, 
hi the unexcavated section, and that they may have an east-west 

1 This is a revision and expansion of the topographical note in The Beginnings 
of Christianity (ed. by Foakes-Jackson and Lake, London, 1933, Vol. IV, pp. 
209-210), written in the light of the recent Agora excavations. 

2 Acts xvii, 17. 

8 This material is published in Hespena, I-V, 1932-33-1936. 

4 The section from the Dipylon Gate to the beginning of the Agora proper, as 
well as, apparently, the extreme northern section of the Agora still remains to 
be excavated and our topographical picture is based entirely on Pausanias and 
other more scattered literary evidence. 

6 See below p. 142. 



After the Stoa Basileios on his right, Paul would have seen the 
Stoa of Zeus Eleutherios, the southern portion of which has been 
excavated, and identified by the discovery of a statue of Hadrian 
which Pausanias (i. 3. 2) tells us stood before this stoa, and which 
was found very nearly hi its original position. 8 * 

On the left, directly across the ancient street from the Stoa of 
Zeus Eleutherios, was the enclosure and altar of the Twelve Gods, 
facing the north-east. The enclosure has been fixed at this point 
with some certainty since the discovery of a statue base on the spot 
inscribed: "Leagros, son of Glaukon, dedicated it to the Twelve 
Gods." A round marble altar decorated with reliefs of the Twelve 
Gods, discovered very near this site hi 1877 and now in the National 
Museum at Athens is probably the very altar which stood hi the 

Farther to Paul's left as he stood between the Stoa of Zeus Eleu- 
therios and the altar of the Twelve Gods, he would have seen the 
magnificent Stoa of Attalos with its lines of small shops, extending 
for almost the entire length of the East boundary of the Hellenic 
Agora. This stoa was positively identified many years ago by the 
inscription recording its dedication by Attalos II. 6 And, although 
Paul's view would probably have been cut off by the Stoa of 
Attalos, he might have seen, towering up even farther to the East, 
the great gate of Athena Archegetis which was the propylon of the 
Market of Caesar and Augustus in the later and more commercial 
part of the Agora. 

On the right, south of the Stoa of Zeus Eleutherios, was the 
temple of Apollo Patroos, which the Germans first uncovered in 
1896 and which Dorpfeld identified as the Stoa Basileios. Its loca- 
tion, in fact, fits Pausanias' itinerary very well. In addition, the 
shape of the building is eminently suitable for a small temple, while 
it is difficult to imagine that it could ever have been called a stoa. 
In 1907 the Greeks discovered a large status of Apollo of good style 
and workmanship in front of the foundations of this building, 
making the identification certain. Pausanias says, after describing 

6a lt is possible that the Stoa Basileios and the Stoa of Zeus Eleutherios are one 
and the same. In a recent lecture Mr. Homer Thompson described terracotta frag- 
ments found near the stoa in the 1936 campaign. These seem to belong to the 
group mentioned by Pausanias as decorating the Stoa Basileios. 

6 C.I. A. ii, no. 1170. 


the Stoa of Zeus Eleutherios (i. 3. 3) ". . . and he (Euphranor) also 
executed the Apollo surnamed the Paternal hi the temple hard by." 

If Paul looked up to the Kolonos Agoraios on his right he would 
have seen the so-called Theseion, the fine fifth century temple still 
so well-preserved. It is very improbable that this traditional name 
for the building is correct, for, from all accounts, the Theseion 
must have been an entirely different type of sanctuary and located 
in some other part of the Agora. Moreover, the structure admir- 
ably answers to the description (Paus. i. 14. 5) : "above the Kera- 
meikos and the Stoa Basileios is a temple of Hephaistos," for to 
the traveller today the temple still seems to dominate this entire 
section of the city. 

Below the Hephaisteion and slightly to the south, Paul would 
have seen the Metroon, next on his right to the temple of Apollo 
Patroos. The sanctuary of the Mother of the Gods, whose image 
was the work of Phidias (Paus. i. 3. 4), is mentioned by Pausanias 
immediately after the temple of Apollo, and its excavators have 
identified it by the inscribed roof-tiles, statuettes and reliefs of the 
Mother of the Gods found on its site. 

Just west of the Metroon and partly cut into the cliff of the 
Kolonos Agoraios, the Bouleuterion has been excavated, in the 
same precinct as the Metroon, exactly as we understand from 
several ancient accounts. It also agrees with the order of Pausa- 
nias, for he mentions it after the Metroon and before the Tholos 
(i. 5. 1). 

South of the Metroon and Bouleuterion and to his right, Paul 
would have seen the Tholos, described in this position by Pau- 
sanias (i. 5. 1). This structure was certainly identified by its circu- 
lar shape and by the fact that several standard weights and meas- 
ures, for which the Tholos is known to have been the repository, 
were found on the site. 

It now seems probable that the statues of the Eponymous Heroes 
of Attika stood on the slopes of the Kolonos Agoraios and not the 
Areopagos, as had always been supposed. Pausanias, immediately 
after his location of the Tholos says that the Eponymous Heroes 
stand "higher up" (i. 5. 1) and the placing of these statues on the 
Areopagos was a false conclusion drawn from the hypothetical and 
incorrect location of the Tholos at the foot of its north slope. 

Some distance east of the Tholos and Metroon and on Paul's 


left as he faced the Areopagos he would have seen the Odeion, a 
rectangular structure with a cavea comprising slightly less than a 
semi-circle, which has been recently excavated. This building has 
been identified from Pausanias' mention of a statue of Dionysos 
"worth seeing" in it (i. 14. 1) and statues of the Ptolemies in 
front of it (i. 8. 6). A statue of Dionysos was actually found in 
the excavated building and, near the front of it, an inscribed 
statue base with the name Philadelphos. The so-called Stoa of 
the Giants which has long been conspicuous, just north of the now- 
excavated Odeion forms the f agade of a much later building on the 
same site and would not have been seen by Paul. 

The statues of the Tyrannicides Harmodius and Aristogeiton 
may have stood somewhere between the Metroon and the Odeion 
on the left of the ancient street, although their exact position is 
conjectural. They are placed "opposite the Metroon" by Arrian 
(Anab. iii. 16. 8) and are mentioned immediately before the Odeion 
in Pausanias (i. 8. 5) but by the lexicographers Timaeus and Photius 
they are said to have stood in the Orchestra, a site not yet located. 

Just south of the Odeion, a long stoa has been excavated. It 
stretched along the southern border of the Agora, its ends leaving 
room only for the two ancient streets to pass, one between its east 
end and the Tholos, the other between its west end and the south- 
western corner of the Stoa of Attalos. This structure is still uniden- 
tified but has been provisionally entitled the South Stoa. It was, 
no doubt, a conspicuous building and Paul must have seen it, 
although it seems odd that it was omitted from Pausanias' itinerary. 
It has been plausibly suggested by Mr. Shear that a stoa hi the 
same position as the South Stoa in the north end of the Agora 
would make a logical enclosure of the section and fit admirably 
the literary evidence as to the position of the Stoa Poikile. 7 This, 
however, remains to be proved by further excavation to the north. 

South-west of the South Stoa a large fountain-house has been 
found. This has further complicated the already tangled evidence 
as to the position of the Enneakrounos, since it seems to fit Pausa- 
nias' description of it as being near the Odeion (i. 14. 1) far better 
than Dorpfeld's Enneakrounos on the slope of the Pnyx. 

One may also hazard a guess that the Eleusinion, which was 
thought to be on the Pnyx Hill above Dorpfeld's Enneakrounos, 

7 Hesperia, Vol. V, 1936, no. 1, p. 6. 


will actually be found somewhere near the fountain-house in the 
Agora. 7 ' Sacred vessels limited to the worship of the Eleusinian 
Demeter and terra-cotta images appropriate to her worship have 
come to light in a small area in this section. 8 

Paul must have seen many other prominent land-marks of the 
the Agora, the Sanctuary of Ares, the Theseion, the Heliaia and 
others, but their position remains hypothetical until the American 
work of excavation and identification is carried further. So many 
conclusions have been reached in the past few years, however, 
that we may confidently expect equally definite locations for other 
famous and sacred monuments of the ancient Agora. 

7B Foundations discovered in 1936, just west of the "fountain-house", have 
been provisionally identified as the Eleusinion, A. J.A., Vol. XL, no. 4 (Oct.-Dec. 
1936), p. 413. 

8 Hesperia, Vol. Ill, 1934, p. 447. 




In my edition of the Chester Beatty papyrus of the Gospels and 
Acts (P 45), statistics were given of the agreements and disagree- 
ments of the papyrus with the principal uncial Mss. and the textus 
rec&ptus in the several books. It has occurred to me that it ought 
to be of interest also to compare the text of the papyrus with the 
modern revised texts principally in use. I have therefore noted the 
agreements and disagreements of the papyrus with the following 
four editions of the Gospels, in the case of all the variants recorded 
in my apparatus criticus: (1) Westcott and Hort, 1881; (2) the 
text which underlies the English Revised Version, as published in 
Souter's Oxford Greek Testament, 1910: (3) Nestle's Stuttgart 
Greek Testament, 3rd ed., 1927: (4) von Soden, 1913. These four 
editions are based on somewhat different principles. Westcott and 
Hort is based on the principle that the best text is, with few excep- 
tions, to be found in the Alexandrian family (which they call 
Neutral), headed by the Vaticanus and Sinaiticus Mss., and pre- 
dominantly in the Vaticanus, The Revisers were strongly influ- 
enced by Westcott and Hort, but did not always follow them; 
their text is therefore a modified Alexandrian type. Nestle, de- 
siring as complete "objectivity" as possible, took the three editions 
of Tischendorf (1869-72), Westcott and Hort, and Weiss (1894- 
1900), and followed in each case the verdict of the majority. Von 
Soden prepared his own text in accordance with his own judgment, 
based upon a somewhat different classification of the authorities 
from that of Westcott and Hort. 

Ignoring Matthew, of which the remains in the papyrus are too 
scanty to justify any conclusions, the figures are as follows: 

In Mark: i 

With Against 

papyrus papyrus 

WH 52 136 

RV 54 134 

Nestle 51 137 

Soden 57 131 



In Luke: 

With Againtt 

papynu papvrut 

WH 151 241 

RV 157 235 

Nestle 149 243 

Soden.... 154 238 

In John: 

WH 36 72 

RV 33 75 

Nestle 37 71 

Soden 41 67 

The first result that strikes the eye is the very small amount of 
difference between the four editions. In spite of their difference in 
method, all are substantially representations of the Alexandrian 
type of text. The readings of the true "Western" text (represented 
mainly by D and the Old Latin, and those of the Old Syriac version 
where they differ from the Alexandrian) are generally ignored; so 
that the reader of any one of these four editions has before him 
substantially the same text. From this the text of the papyrus 
differs materially. Even if the readings peculiar to the papyrus 
(which are 30 in Mark, 116 in Luke and 25 in John) are subtracted 
from the column of disagreements, the divergence is considerable. 
The proportion, however, is not the same hi all the Gospels. De- 
ducting the singular readings of the papyrus, the disagreements hi 
Mark outnumber the agreements in the proportion of two to one: 
in Luke, they are a little less than equal; in John they are about 
four to three. 

Since the four editions with which comparison has been made are 
all representatives of the Alexandrian text, it would be desirable to 
compare the text of the papyrus also with editions of the so-called 
Western and Caesarean texts, so as to determine whether its di- 
vergence from the Alexandrian arises from a leaning to either of 
these families. For such a comparison, full materials are not avail- 
able, for no full editions of these texts exist. It is, however, possible 
to compare the papyrus in Luke with Blass' edition of the Western 
text of this Gospel, and since this is the Gospel which is best repre- 
sented in the papyrus, and is also the Gospel in which the character- 
istics of the Western text are most strongly marked, the comparison 
may be accepted as valid. It is true that Blass' constitution of the 


Western text is rather arbitrary, but it is not likely that this would 
seriously affect the results of the present comparison. Any other 
edition of the Western text would probably differ as much from 
the Alexandrian, although the details of the divergence might vary. 
The statistical result of a comparison of the text of the papyrus 
with Westcott and Hort, as representing the Alexandrian text, and 
Blass, as representing the Western, is as follows: 

Papyrus with WH against B 218 

Papyrus with B against WH 69 

Papyrus with both against others , 75 

Papyrus against both 147 

It is evident therefore that if the papyrus is not wholly Alexandrian, 
it is still less Western; and it may be added that its agreements with 
Blass' text are all in respect of small details. Not one of the 
larger Western divergences occurs in it. 

With regard to the Caesarean text, no adequate comparison can 
be made until Professor and Mrs. Lake have produced their much- 
desired edition of Mark hi this form. The comparison with the 
manuscripts already given in my edition of the papyrus shows, 
however, that in Mark the papyrus has a strong Caesarean flavor; 
and this may go far to account for its divergence from the Alex- 
andrian type in this book. Whether its lesser degree of divergence 
in Luke and John is due to its being less Caesarean in these books, 
or to the Caesarean text itself being nearer to the Alexandrian in 
them, is a problem that must remain undetermined until the 
Caesarean text elsewhere than in Mark has been investigated. 

In the case of Acts, the comparison is made with Westcott and 
Hort and Clark's edition of the Western text, with these results: 

Papyrus with WH against C 203 

Papyrus with C against WH 25 

Papyrus with both against others 51 

Papyrus against both 101 

The conclusion here is even more decisive against the Western 
text. Such agreements as ihere are with it are in small details; 
and in no single instance does the papyrus contain any of the read- 
ings printed by Clark in thicker type as characteristically Western. 
The readings in which the papyrus disagrees with both are almost 
always of small importance, and in general it may be said that it 


has a substantially Alexandrian text with an admixture of individ- 
ual variants. 

It is of course to be remembered that this is only a single manu- 
script, produced probably in some provincial center in Egypt. If 
the Michigan papyrus edited by Sanders, containing some verses 
of Acts xviii and xix, or the Roman papyrus edited by Vitelli, con- 
taining verses of xxiii, had been preserved to any substantial extent, 
the picture would have been quite different. All that can be said 
is that the Beatty papyrus proves the existence of a manuscript of 
the early third century in Egypt which in Mark has a strong 
Caesarean flavor, which in Luke and John is predominantly Alex- 
andrian with an admixture of minor Western readings and individual 
variants, which in Acts is mainly Alexandrian, and which in no 
case countenances the more outstanding variants of the Western 
text. But predominantly Alexandrian though it is, it shows that 
in the third century there were a number of minor variants in 
circulation which did not eventually find a home in any of the text 
families which we have learnt to recognize. 



Queen's College, Oxford 

In the Journal of Theological Studies, XIV. 52 (Oct. 1912) and 
the two following numbers, there was printed a new collation by 
H. C. Hoskier of Codex 157, which has long been known to have 
a specially interesting text. 

It occurred to me to compare Hoskier's collation with the recon- 
struction of the "Caesarean" text of three chapters of Mark (i, vi 
and xi) given by K. Lake, R. P. Blake and S. New in the Harvard 
Theological Review, Oct. 1928. To my no small surprise I dis- 
covered that the non-Byzantine readings of this MS. (apart from 
peculiarities which for the most part are clearly scribal errors) are 
with few exceptions identical in mark with those of the "Caesar- 
ean" text as reconstructed by Lake and his collaborators. 

Even the exceptions tend to disappear under a closer scrutiny, 
e.g. : (1) Hoskier's collation is with the Textus Receptus; and there 
are slight differences between this and the standard Byzantine text. 
Hence hi Mk. i. 5, vi. 2 and vi. 44 the readings of 157 quoted by 
Hoskier are the standard Byzantine readings, and, therefore, (for a 
comparison of 157 with the Byzantine text) should be ignored. 
(2) In certain other cases (e.g. Mk. i. 13, 19, 27) the reading of 157 
occurs in /am. 1424 (Soden's 7* group), which in my book The Four 
Gospels I showed to belong to the "Caesarean" group. 

It will be remembered that 157 is notable for having at the end 
of all four Gospels the so-called Jerusalem colophon, stating that 
the MS. "was copied and corrected from ancient exemplars from 
Jerusalem preserved on the Holy Mountain." This same colophon 
appears, but at the end of Mark only, in 565. It was shown by 
Lake, Blake and New in the notable number of the Harvard Theo- 
logical Review referred to above that 565 is for Mark the least 
Byzantinized authority for the "Caesarean" text. 

The meaning of the colophon is discussed by K. Lake in the 
Journal of Theological Studies, Vol. I, No. 3 (April, 1900), p. 445. 
Lake holds that the "Holy Mountain" is Mt. Sinai, and that its 



monastery possessed certain ancient MSS. brought from Jerusalem. 
We know that the Codex Sinaiticus was at Caesarea in the fifth 
century; so there is evidence that MSS. from Palestine did find 
their way to Sinai. 

The colophon is found in at least thirteen MSS., two of which are 
of special interest namely, the Mount Athos (Laura) MS. 1071 ; 
and the curious ninth-century MS. of which one-half (known as A) 
is written in uncial and the other half (known as 566) in minuscule. 
K. Lake, in Studio, Biblica et Ecclesiastica (Oxford, 1903), published 
a description and collation of 1071. From a cursory glance at this 
I long ago concluded that the non-Byzantine element in this MS. 
was "Caesarean." I have recently checked this conclusion for 
Mark i, vi and xi against Lake's reconstruction of the "Caesarean" 
text hi the Harvard Theological Review. This reexamination con- 
firms my previous view. 

With 1071 von Soden classes, in a small sub-division of his / text, 
the uncial MS. U; so U may also safely be added to the "Caesarean" 
witnesses. The presumption that A and the other MSS. which 
have the Jerusalem colophon preserve a few "Caesarean" readings 
is a strong one. Indeed, it is my own belief that the Purple MSS. 
N, S, and $, and most (if not all) of the minuscules which von 
Soden assigned to his / text, are really "Caesarean" MSS. only 
with a much larger Byzantine element than the authorities on which 
Lake bases his reconstruction. 

The value of these "weak" supporters to the "Caesarean" text, 
including /am. 1424, is that they appear occasionally to preserve 
a "Caesarean" reading which has been revised out of the more 
important authorities for that text, viz. 0, fam. 1, fam. 13, 28, 565, 
700, W mk , Old Georgian. That some of the readings in the inferior 
authorities are authentically "Caesarean" is shown by the fact 
that they appear in quotations by Origen and Eusebius. Unless, 
however, a reading found only hi these inferior authorities is sup- 
ported by such a quotation, it is not safe to accept it as "Caesarean." 

The great error of von Soden was pointed out by K. Lake and 
R. P. Blake hi the Harvard Theological Review, July 1923. He 
included in one "I" text the "Caesarean" MSS., and along with 
them the texts of the Codex Bezae and of the Old Latin and Syriac 

He is not the only scholar who has met his Waterloo in the 
attempt to account for, or explain away, the existence of the 
Bezan text. 



University of Michigan 

Under the inventory number 6652 of the Michigan Collection are 
placed two dim and tattered papyrus fragments, one 5 x 4 in. (13 x 
10 cm.), containing Matthew xxvi. 29-35; 36-40, and the other, 4$ 
x 4 hi. (11| x 10 cm.), containing Acts ix. 34r-38; ix. 40-10. 1. 

The order of the text shows that verso precedes recto hi each 
fragment and this relative position is supported hi the Acts fragment 
by the preservation of the right margin on the verso and of the left 
margin on the recto. In the Matthew fragment there is not enough 
margin preserved on either side for us to distinguish between binding 
edge and outer edge. This order, verso-recto, implies that each 
fragment is from the first half of a quire. 

The papyrus of the Matthew fragment is thin, of a brown color, 
and smooth surface. The Acts fragment is thicker, has a slightly 
rougher surface, and its color is grayish brown. The two frag- 
ments were not parts of the same double leaf, nor even, as we shall 
see later, of the same quire, though the whole of one fragment and 
half of the other came to us as a part of a single purchase, which 
suggests that they were found together. The University obtained 
this group of papyri hi the summer of 1934 through the good offices 
of the British Museum, to which they had been offered by an Egyp- 
tian dealer. Dr. H. I. Bell, who made the report, considered the 
Matthew and Acts fragments parts of the same manuscript. Even 
after the difference hi papyrus was observed, I was not able to find 
any consistent or characteristic differences in the writing of the two 
fragments. The slight variations are amply accounted for by the 
difference in surface of the two papyri. As the two fragments are 
in the same hand and were found together, it therefore seems 
probable, but not certain, that they were once parts of the same 
manuscript, which in that case perhaps contained the four Gospels 
and Acts, a combination found in Codex Bezae and in P. Beatty I. 
Furthermore, our fragments were not parts of a single quire manu- 



script, a common form in third-century papyri, but there must 
have been several quires, if all were of the same size, for the small 
fragment containing Acts ix. 36 and the following is from the first 
half of a quire, as noted above. In fact, the manuscript may have 
been formed of many small quires, as P. Beatty I, which is made up 
of two leaf quires. 

After my study of these fragments had been supposedly com- 
pleted, our Curator of Papyri, Dr. Husselnym, called my attention 
to some small fragments of Acts, which came to the University in a 
collection of Coptic and Arabic papyri bought in the fall of 1934 
by Mr. Enoch E. Peterson, Director of the Michigan excavation 
at Kom Aushim. Examination showed that these three small frag- 
ments belonged together and formed the upper half of the Acts 
fragment of this study, adding in somewhat fragmentary form nine 
lines on the verso and eight on the recto. The two fragments fit 
perfectly hi both text and papyrus, but I do not show the added 
fragments hi the facsimiles, as we have not been able hi the absence 
of Mr. Swain to duplicate the excellence of the photographs already 

The fragments of Matthew and Acts are from leaves of the same 
size. Calculating the size of the original page from the beginning 
of the verso fragment to the beginning of the recto in each fragment 
they are found to cover approximately sixteen lines of the Scrivener 
text hi each case. 

In the Matthew fragment twenty lines are preserved on the verso 
and nineteen on the recto. One hundred forty-three letters of the 
text are lost between the verso and recto. Therefore there are six 
lines lost, since the average number of letters per line is 24 on the 
verso and 23 on the recto. This page of Matthew contained origi- 
nally either 25 or 26 lines. 

The figures total approximately the same for the Acts fragment. 
Parts or all of 17 lines of approximately 25 letters each are pre- 
served on the verso and 16 lines of 26 letters each on the recto. 
Two hundred letters according to both the Scrivener and the West- 
cott and Hort texts are missing between the two fragments. About 
a dozen letters are needed to complete the last line on the verso, 
but nevertheless a loss of eight lines of the manuscript must be 
assumed. There was space in this lacuna for not more than 15 
letters of "Western" addition or paraphrase. As the codex Bezae 
fails here there is no certain witness to the Western text, but the 

Matthew XXVI. 29-35 
Acts IX. 41 X. 1 


script, a common form in third-century papyri, but there must 
have been several quires, if all were of the same size, for the small 
fragment containing Acts ix. 36 and the following is from the first 
half of a quire, as noted above. In fact, the manuscript may have 
been formed of many small quires, as P. Beatty I, which is made up 
of two leaf quires. 

After my study of these fragments had been supposedly com- 
pleted, our Curator of Papyri, Dr. Husselman, called my attention 
to some small fragments of Acts, which came to the University in a 
collection of Coptic and Arabic papyri bought in the fall of 1934 
by Mr. Enoch E. Peterson, Director of the Michigan excavation 
at Kom Aushim. Examination showed that these three small frag- 
ments belonged together and formed the upper half of the Acts 
fragment of this study, adding in somewhat fragmentary form nine 
lines on the verso and eight on the recto. The two fragments fit 
perfectly in both text and papyrus, but I do not show the added 
fragments in the facsimiles, as we have not been able in the absence 
of Mr. Swain to duplicate the excellence of the photographs already 

The fragments of Matthew and Acts are from leaves of the same 
size. Calculating the size of the original page from the beginning 
of the verso fragment to the beginning of the recto in each fragment 
they are found to cover approximately sixteen lines of the Scrivener 
text in each case. 

In the Matthew fragment twenty lines are preserved on the verso 
and nineteen on the recto. One hundred forty-three letters of the 
text are lost between the verso and recto. Therefore there are six 
lines lost, since the average number of letters per line is 24 on the 
verso and 23 on the recto. This page of Matthew contained origi- 
nally either 25 or 26 lines. 

The figures total approximately the same for the Acts fragment. 
Parts or all of 17 lines of approximately 25 letters each are pre- 
served on the verso and 16 lines of 26 letters each on the recto. 
Two hundred letters according to both the Scrivener and the West- 
cott and Hort texts are missing between the two fragments. About 
a dozen letters are needed to complete the last line on the verso, 
but nevertheless a loss of eight lines of the manuscript must be 
assumed. There was space in this lacuna for not more than 15 
letters of "Western" addition or paraphrase. As the codex Bezae 
fails here there is no certain witness to the Western text, but the 


ii_J5u ._ . ;.' j :;;.* P'^fL'ia: 

^wS^^fSiPJ^r y ^- 
r ;K^^*tete^ '^ 

,":.'.>K-'-"' ; iv^ '-fciTEfef Wrf^ssvS^r jn,V -S&7 

. ..'sx*-:.i-!- - -SS^Ur^-L'^--'- 1 - \-:^-^ 

.tv^fr" m^r-'- 1 - v^r 


. -.- 

y '^ 

Matthew XXVI. 29-35 
Acts IX. 41 X. 1 


unanimity of the later manuscripts suggests that there were no 
pronounced variants in this passage. 

The addition of the hypothetical 8 lines of the lacuna to the 16 
or 17 lines of the two fragments gives an original page length of 24 
or 25 lines, which is near enough to the size of the page in Matthew 
to warrant our continuing to consider the two fragments parts of 
the same manuscript. 

The small size of the leaf argues against the inclusion of all four 
Gospels and Acts hi one manuscript, for it would require some 250 
leaves for the four Gospels and 75 for Acts. Yet one dare not say 
that it was impossible. It is, however, rather more probable that 
Matthew and Acts were joined in a manuscript, which would call 
for somewhat less than 150 leaves of the size of these fragments. 
No such combination is known in extant manuscripts, yet it would 
be a logical one, where but the one Gospel was known. 

It is now perhaps possible to add a word on the provenance of 
these fragments and the others bought with them. It is probable 
that the Cairo dealer, who sold his papyri to the British Museum, 
obtained them from the Fayum. In fact, as the Cairo dealer sold 
Greek fragments to the British Museum, and the Fayum dealer 
only Coptic and Arabic papyri to Mr. Peterson, it seems more than 
probable that the whole lot was at one tune in the hands of the 
Fayum dealer. The Cairo dealer bought only the Greek fragments, 
but whoever made the division overlooked one, which, somewhat 
broken, came later to Mr. Peterson. 

The type of writing is a semi-cursive with considerable linking of 
certain letters. In general the letters are fairly upright and of even 
size. Phi extends well below the line, and somewhat above. Rho 
and rarely iota reach below the line. Alpha has a curved loop, 
except for two cases of the angular form which are enlarged at the 
beginnings of lines. Both forms of kappa occur, but the uncial 
form is more common and at the beginning of lines it is enlarged. 
Epsilon regularly reaches well above the following letter. Omicron 
is of even size except for a couple of enlarged initials. Delta gen- 
erally forms a ligature with the following letter, thus making the 
right hand side of the letter incomplete. These characteristics as 
well as others point to the middle of the third century for the 
date. Somewhat similar specimens of writing are found in the 
^Heroninos correspondence of the Florentine Papyri, Vol. II, which 
are dated around 260 A.D. 


There is no punctuation by the first hand. There are rather 
doubtful dots at the ends of lines 13 and 14 of the verso of the 
Acts fragment. I am not sure that these dots were made with ink, 
but, if so, the ink was very much paler than the writing of the frag- 
ment. There seem to be two cases of an apostrophe, one after aXX 
of line 15 of the recto of the Matthew fragment and the other after 
ovx of line 18 of the same page. Both are unusual in shape but in 
the same ink as the rest of the writing. There are no breathings or 
accents. The only abbreviations are tijs) irps and ircp. The one 
case of correction by a second hand, fwv added after Trcp of line 12 
of the Matthew fragment, recto, is hi slightly paler ink. It is 
probably contemporary. 

Matthew, verso, xxvi. 29-35 

ex] TOVTOV T[OV yevijfjiaTOS TTJS an] 

TrcXou eco[s TTJS ijjuep]as Ktv[ijs 

orav a[vTO irtvu /*e0] vn<av /c[at 

vov &> TIJ j8[oai]X[6ia TOV] Hrps IMV 

M K\ai vnvrjffavTf[5 e]TjX0op ets TO . 5 

ppos TWV eXatcov SI TOT \eyet. ou 

TOIS o t^s Traces v/teis crKavSa 

\iff6riffeff8e tv ejuoi ev rt\ VVKTI 

Ta]vri} 7eypa7rrai yap iraTa^w TOV 

TTOijuei/a KCU SiaffKopiriffdifffov 10 

Ta]t Ta Trpo/SaTa TTJS Troi/iPijs 82 M^ 

Ta] 8e eyepBijvat pe irpoat-u y/uas 

s] TIJV ya\i\aiav * 3 airoKpi8eis de 


ff]Kav8a\iff8rjffovTat tya) &> <roi 15 

ou]5e7rore (TKafSaXiadTjao/tai 

34 0rj auTw o ITJS a/zrjy \cyw ffoi 

OTI e[v T]auTij TJJ VVKTI irpw aX 


Matthew, recto, xxvi. 36-40 

T]<I[IS OUTOU na.8i.ff are] avroy e[ws 
ou ay 


/ucu "IC[<H irapaXaJjSwi' roy irtrpov 
[ro]v[s] S[vo] vt[o]v[s] 

vtiv "rare Xeyct aurots 

TTOS ecri? 17 l^ux*? MOV 

varou fieivart 8e /coi 

peire juer /iov "KOI Tr 

juixpov eirtffcv cm irp[off]u[irov 10 

ayrou irpoffevxofjicvos KO[I 

irep et ovvarov effT[tv 

CWT /zou TO 

aXX" us <ru 40 Kat cpxcrat irpos ro[v$ 15 

/cat, eupioxei avrous 

Kat Xcyet TW 
Trerpa) ovrws oux' nrxv^aTe 
/iiap [wpai' Ypi/Tjopj/o-aW /er [e 
[MOV] 20 

line 12. The added MOV is by a different hand but probably contemporary. 

Acts, verso, ix. 33-38 

88 T]ttfv[ 
........ OS] 

i]ijs [o 
Kat (rrpcotrof] treauTW /cai cu 

8B /cai] ei5o^ a[v]rov 
ot KaTo[t]Koy^res Xu5 
8av Kat ffapuva oirivej eirtaTp&l/av 
iri TOV ic? 86 ev IOTTTTI; 8e TIS 7/p /<a^j; 
rpia rajScida 17 SiepjuTji/ei/ojufei'Tj] Xe 
Sopicas avrif qv ir\ijpr)[5 aya 

7r[oi]6[i 87 ] < yi'[e]To 8e tv Tats i^jLt 10 

pais fKfivais affQevi)ffa<rav av 

T-QV airodaveiv Xoutrafrej 5c 

auTiji' tOrjuav &> TW yirepww 

"cyyvs 5c OVO-TJS XvSSas TT; IOTTTTT/. 

01 /ua0i}rat [a]Kot;(ravr[6s] on Tre 15 


rpos cvTiv e[v avr]ii airjeoretXai' 
[8vo av5p]as a[urco ....... 

line 1. Between t]t)$ and ava. there is space for four letters. 

Acts, recto, ix. 40-x. 1 


40 eK/3a[Xwv Se ei-u Train-as o we 
rpos Kot 0s r[a ir 
KOI Tr[i\ffTp\j/q,[s Trpos TO crco/ia enrev 
rajSetda avaffrrj6t t] 8e irjvoL^ey 
TOVS o^daXjuous avrrjs /ecu iSouaa 

41 8ous 8e 

5e] TOVS (ry[i]ous /cat ras 

ffrov 5e 76^6x0 /ca0 oXrjs lOTnrijs 10 

KCU eTrKTreuaav TroXXot CTTI TOV "KV 

* 3 eyevTO 8e i/juepas inavas neivcu 

w IOTTTTTJ Trapa rtvt (rtjuwn 0vp<rci 

*- l avrip 8e [TI]S ev /ca[wrapt]a owjuart 

K[opvi7Xio]s c/caT[oj'Ta]px o s K fret 15 

line 1. As the line is too short probably x*?P<" was inserted after iravras. 

There are nineteen variants to be considered in the Matthew 
fragment. They are listed here with the manuscript support for 
or against each. The manuscripts are numbered according to the 
system of Gregory (Die Griechischen Handschriften des Neuen Testa- 
ments, Leipzig, 1908). 


xxvi. 29. order jue0] u/wov K[at]vov against C L Z 1 28 33 118 209 440 

472 521 1273 1318 1582 
31. oiaffKopirtaeriffovTai = K A B C G H* I L M W 13 33 47 

Matthew XXVI. 36-40 
Acts IX. 33-38 


rpos <TTW e[v avr]rj 
[8vo av8p]as af 

line 1. Between I]TJS and ava there is space for four letters. 

Acts, recto, ix. 40-x. 1 
]v avfayayov 

40 eKj8a[Xwi' 6e eco Travras o ire 
rpos (cat 0eis r[a yovara irpoo"rivt-a.TO 
Kai e7r[i]ffTpeif>a[s irpos TO trw/ia 
TafSeiQa avaffrydi 77 5e ijvo^ey 
TOVS o^^aX/iow avTTjs Kat i5ou<ra 
TOV Tr[e\Tpov aveKaQiaev 41 5ous 5e 
[%et]pa aveffTrjffcv avTr/v 0co 
Se] TOVS a7[i]oi>s /cat ras 

<WT[I]V $<aaa 
ffTov Se eyevtTo Kad o\?js IOTTTTIJS 10 

KOI 7Tl(TTU(raiI/ TToXXot 7Tt TOl* / 

* s eyev6To 5e rjjuepas i/cai'as 
e^ coinrri irapa. TIVI Gifjuavi 

[TI]S e^ Ka[tcrapt]a 

Js e/car[oj'ra]pxos ex tTTrei 15 

line 1. As the line is too short probably x*?pas was inserted after 

There are nineteen variants to be considered in the Matthew 
fragment. They are listed here with the manuscript support for 
or against each. The manuscripts are numbered according to the 
system of Gregory (Die Griechischen Handschriften des Neuen Testa- 
ments, Leipzig, 1908). 


xxvi. 29. order iuff\ u/zwv K[U]VOV against C L Z 1 28 33 118 209 440 

472 521 1273 1318 1582 
31. 8iaffKopiruT6riffovT<u = A B C G H* I L M W 13 33 47 

r ^>.^?^^^p^sp; 'v^cr:-v ; 


:.. : >- .-ra-Tg'jcj8;-^.'rT7T J ^r.^ae^i. x*^"rL r y'^'Sg> "^^ 

r^^S53S^ii^^^^^i^iS:xI^ < s23^,3^ 

SrS^SG^r^^^^^t --'^ - 

Matthew XXVI. 36-40 
Acts IX. 33-38 


51 52 54 58 69 74 90 118 124 150 157 174 230 234 243 248 
251 252** 262 346 508 543 544 700 788 826 828 983 1438 
lect 21 24 36 44 49 

33. against et K at of N F K II 33 489 etc It Arm Aeth Pal 
Syr Or Bas Chr ( = Mark) 
tr e-yw & (rot sol; cf. Syr* F 1689 which add w aoi after 

(against ? &) = N A B C* D I L S V A H 6 fam 1 
fam 13 (exc. 69) 33 etc It Vg Syr 2 Or 

34. fv (before Tavrrj) against D a b c ff 2 h q f u Chr om (a 
Latinism; D influenced by d) 
(against rpts) = 69 

(against airapvijcry) = B C 9 28 262 477 al 
Vg It (cf . 69 2 airapviiffoi) 
order mrapv^ni [/ze] against K* 33 157 It Vg Or Hil 

36. /wMa[is + O.VTOV] = N A C D W 1 12 36 37 40 59 61 64 
116 118 131 209 237 245 251 253 259 433 517 544 700 1582 
lect 36 44 46 47 49 63 150 It Vg Cop Syr 2 Aeth Hil 
(KaflwaTe) + avrov (against N C* 61 300 om) 
e[s] ou ay = A (ews ou = B + Antiochian) (ws av = 
Western'+ W 157) (ews = C* M* 22 28 33 lect 150 etc 

order [erne] 7rpo<rev[w]Mat = K B D L 9 33 69 102 157 
346 It Vg Sah Cop Aeth Or Hil 

38. om o is = A B C* D I L W 9 fam 1 33 44 69 124 174 
435 543 788 983 It Vg Syr Sah Cop Arm Aeth Chr 

39. irpo<r*\6<av (against Trpo&Bwv) = NACDILWTA9II 2 
unc 8 1 33 69 124 131 209 299 435 440 477 489 507 508 700 
al lect multi (150 181 185) 

(Trorep) om nov man 1 = L A 5 1 209 218 Vg (A F L R* 
X* Y) a Just Valent in Ir Or Bus Ath Did Cyr Bas Chr 
Gyp Hil Hier Aug + /xou man 2 = all other MSS 
7rap6X0T (against TrapeXflarw of N A C D F L 33 124) = 
B H I KM S V T H 21 28 69 372 399 544 565 700 892 
1241 1542 1689 fam 1 and all Antiochian 

40. TO) TreTpw (against aurots of E K M H 13 15 27 40 60 61 68 
69 73 125 174 230 248 346 348 489 543 788 826 828 983 
1194 1579 1604 1689) 

ovx for owe sol 


(against urxvaas of A 1396 ff 2 g 2 gat Arm Harcl"" 
Chr Juvenc) 

The number of agreements of the papyrus readings with the 
older manuscripts and groups are as follows: 

11 faml 11 

A 12 faml3 12 

B 13 MS 33 9 

D 11 MS 28 9 

W 11 MS 700 9 

9 12 

There are two readings, one a transposition and the other a wrong 
spelling, for which I have found no support. The spelling rpets 
hi xxvi. 34, is recorded only for MS 69, but I place little weight on 
this agreement as it is only an itacistic error which is generally not 
listed in collations. The special agreement in xxvi. 36 with MS A 
is important, though the papyrus reading must remain somewhat 
doubtful. It seems to be a conflation of two readings, ewj ov and 
wj av, which are shown by the support respectively of B and W to 
have circulated hi Egypt. Of the nineteen readings listed above 
eleven were adopted by the Alexandrian text, eleven by the Antio- 
chian, and fifteen by one or more members of the Caesarean family. 
If in similar manner we bring into comparison all manuscripts which 
at tunes are free from the influence of the Alexandrian and Antio- 
chian recensions, all except three of the readings of the papyrus 
will be found supported by the "uncorrected" group. 

These relationships are not due to chance. The papyrus is older 
than either the Alexandrian or Antiochian recension. It came from 
Egypt and so naturally represents the early Egyptian text. But 
many variations must have existed in that text before the Alex- 
andrian recension. The Alexandrian editors had access to many 
such manuscripts as our papyrus and so must not be considered 
guilty of inventing Scripture, when they differ. The closeness of 
agreement between the older papyri and the Alexandrian text may 
be interpreted to mean that the basic Egyptian text was less corrupt 
than the text that circulated in other provinces and that the editors 
were in the main conservative. 


In the fragment of Acts there are twenty-eight text variants of 


ix. 34. t] ^(against 216 614 1518 al 3 om) 

[o xps] (addition of article assumed from space) = A B 3 E 
H L P 81 614 and most minusc Did Chr Thphyl 
<r(WT<a (against L 42, atavrov) 

35. ciSov (against eidav) = ME H L P and all minuscules (against 

\vSSav = C E H L P most minusc (against \v8da of M A B 

33 61 181 326 424 460) 

om TOV before vapuva N* 

<ropwva = (M A) B C E 642 Vg (e) Thphyl 

36. om opojuan sol 
rajfoifla = B C 

order ayafav epycw = MA H L P 81 614 etc 

37. order avrijv ffyKav = M C E and most minuscules, including 
383 467 614 1518 

+ TCO (uTrepcoco) = A C E 18 103 181 201 205 206 242 328 429 

38. XvSSas (for XuSfys) = N* B* C 81 

[8vo ai/5p]as = M A B C E 69 81 383 489 614 1518 etc Vg Bas 


O[UTCO] for Trpos avrov sol 

40. [iravrcs + X^pas?] sol 

+ /cat before fas = MA B C E 81 104 181 209* 242 307 429 
441 464 Syr Cop Thphyl 
ra0ei0a = B 

(om add of Hard Sah Arm Amb Cyp) 
(om 7rapaxptyM a f E Sah Aeth) 

41. 5 e (against re of A 1518 Syr Aeth OL) 

<j>w[vr}ffa.s 8e] (against KCU ^w^tras of 33 431 614 1518 OL Vg 
Sah Hard Syr Chr) 

42. om TTJS = B C* 

order emffTevvav TroXXoi = MA B C E 69 81 181 429 467 522 
915 917 1739 1758 1829 1874 1891 1898 2298 Vg Sah Cop Arm 

43. iKavas (against TWOS of C / of von Soden, and Andreas Com- 


eytvero Se (om avrov) = N* B 3 209* 216 1175 1739 (Ant tr 


x. 1. 6e TIS (om ip>) = K A B C E L 0142 3 33 35* 36* 61 81 94 
101* 103 104 181 209 307 327 328 378 463 464* 
KaTo[vra]pxos] (for eKarovrapxris) = 1898; cf Mt 8, 5 where 
all read eKa.TovTa.pxos except tt* 892 1429 and a few others. 

There are the following numbers of agreements with the more 
important manuscripts: 

K 16 E 15 

A 13 MS 81 13 

B 16 fam614 13 

C 16 MS 69 9 

As noted above there is a lacuna hi Codex Bezae hi this portion 
of the text, so the most complete witness of the so-called Western 
text is lacking. But that lack is not very important, for there do 
not seem to have been any striking variants in .this brief bit of 
text. Most of the important variants are supported by both the 
Alexandrian and the so-called Western text, while but five have 
full Antiochian support. The spelling Xv88as hi ix. 38 and the 
omission of the article hi ix. 42 might seem pure Alexandrian changes, 
but they are better explained as Egyptian variants, which survived 
in a few Alexandrian manuscripts. 

A similar explanation may be given for the spelling efcaro[vTa]pxos 
in x. 1, which is supported by MS 1898 alone. This variation is 
probably due to the influence of Matthew viii. 5, and so is a char- 
acteristic "Western" change. Also MS 1898 is von Soden's 70 hi 
the group /*, which is his equivalent of the "Western." The 
omission of the article before yapuva, in ix. 35, supported by N* 
only, and the spelling TafatBa with B C, are also examples of the 
uncorrected Egyptian text. 

In ix. 38 O[UTW] for irpos O.VTOV is a doubtful reading, but irpos was 
certainly omitted in this place as almost all of the left loop of a 
is visible. The substitution of the dative for irpos with the accu- 
sative after ewrooreXXw is a characteristic Egyptian change, though 
there is no authority for it here. This construction appears three 
tunes in the New Testament and over forty times in the Septuagint. 


Mayser, Gram. d. Gr. Pap. a. d. Ptokmaerzeit, II, 2, p. 242, notes 
it as common in the papyri. 

Another unsupported reading is the omission of ovonan in ix. 36. 
A doubtful reading is the addition of some word as x?pas after 
iravres in ix. 40. Such an addition is without support, but seems 
required by the space. Such changes as these are often found in 
the so-called Western or ante-recension text. 

So far as the scanty evidence of these small fragments of Matthew 
and Acts permits us to judge, the text must be considered the 
same. It is another example of the characteristic third-century 
text of Egypt. 


Yale University 

The document here published for the first time was acquired by 
Yale University at Paris hi 1933, together with a number of other 
texts of Egyptian provenience. In the University's collection it 
bears the number P 1543; for purposes of New Testament textual 
criticism, however, it may be referred to most conveniently as P 50, 
the number assigned to it by the late Prof, von Dobschutz hi the 
official list of New Testament papyri. At present it consists of two 
separate pieces of papyrus measuring 8.8 x 13.8 cm., both opisto- 
graphs with the script running parallel to the short sides. Origi- 
nally the two pieces formed one sheet approximately 17.6 cm. wide 
and 13.8 cm. high, folded down the middle 1 to make a two-leaf 

The material is coarse and the surface rough. The fibers at the 
left end of the recto had already torn away completely before its 
use. This weakened the surface of the verso, so that its right end 
eventually broke rather badly. But it is doubtful whether any of 
the breakage occurred before the sheet was inscribed, for the con- 
tinuity of the text is disturbed by it scarcely at all. 2 

On each of the four pages of the two-leaf booklet was written one 
column of text, Columns I and IV on the recto, II and III on the 
verso. The columns vary in length, Column I on the first page 
comprising 22 lines, Columns II and III each 21 lines, and Column 
IV only 6 lines. The lines are still less uniform, then 1 length rang- 
ing from 14 to 25 (?) letters, with the average approximately 18. 
Column I shows not only the largest number of lines, but also a 

1 This is shown by the fact that two of the long sides of the pieces match, and 
that at least two of the strokes begun on one piece carry over to the other. 

2 The writer took no pains to make his lines of equal length. Only the divi- 
sion of 7rpo<7eu//x6/zews in Col. Ill, 18-19, could be used to argue that the verso 
was already damaged when the sheet was used. 



somewhat higher average in the number of letters per line, the first 
nine lines running well over 20 letters each. This is important for 
the reconstruction of Column I, 1, and indicates that the text 
actually begins at this point. 

The text consists of two selections from Acts, namely, Acts 8: 
26-32 and 10 : 26-31 . The first selection ends on 1 15 of Column II 
and is separated from the second by a horizontal stroke. Appar- 
ently the writer first introduced his dividing line hi the wrong 
place, below line 14, crossed it out with a wavy line, and then added 
a second hi the right place. 3 The ink of Column III, and in a lesser 
measure of Column II, was not entirely dry when the second leaf 
of the booklet was folded back upon the first. Traces of the letters 
of Column III thus appear on Column II and vice versa. There 
are no similar traces upon either I or IV. 

After the transcription of the text the booklet was folded five 
tunes horizontally to the text and thus compressed into a small 
flat bundle, approximately 2.5 x 9 cm. Later, perhaps, the folded 
papyrus tore from the bottom to a point about two-thirds of the 
way up, where irregularly-shaped holes appear. The two fissures 
(one hi each leaf) were mended on the recto, the one at the left by a 
large piece of papyrus pasted along the bottom of the page, the one 
at the right by two narrow strips applied below lines 15 and 22 of 
Column I respectively. Fissures and holes have destroyed a sur- 
prisingly small proportion of the writing. 

* The end of the first dividing line is one of the strokes that carried over from 
one piece of the papyrus to the other, indicating that the two were originally 
part of one sheet. 





'ZOrJlt^ m IIX"T^' 77 ^ --IC*r Vt^^^iTT.--.;-V,':J 1 .';|!i.s.i<gaE4'a,TB 'wz&z&r.'i.'M'-* 





~ ' " "jlS'-l^^v'^l 

^"ffli^ 7 ^ 
i>j #$:* ^p^?^;;^!^! 

2f t '?-/'iTCts.-a2>ffi 


T wctn rnls TV T- TT 



somewhat higher average in the number of letters per line, the first 
nine lines running well over 20 letters each. This is important for 
the reconstruction of Column I, 1, and indicates that the text 
actually begins at this point. 

The text consists of two selections from Acts, namely, Acts 8: 
26-32 and 10 : 26-31. The first selection ends on 1. 15 of Column II 
and is separated from the second by a horizontal stroke. Appar- 
ently the writer first introduced his dividing line in the wrong 
place, below line 14, crossed it out with a wavy line, and then added 
a second in the right place. 3 The ink of Column III, and in a lesser 
measure of Column II, was not entirely dry when the second leaf 
of the booklet was folded back upon the first. Traces of the letters 
of Column III thus appear on Column II and vice versa. There 
are no similar traces upon either I or IV. 

After the transcription of the text the booklet was folded five 
times horizontally to the text and thus compressed into a small 
flat bundle, approximately 2.5 x 9 cm. Later, perhaps, the folded 
papyrus tore from the bottom to a point about two-thirds of the 
way up, where irregularly-shaped holes appear. The two fissures 
(one in each leaf) were mended on the recto, the one at the left by a 
large piece of papyrus pasted along the bottom of the page, the one 
at the right by two narrow strips applied below lines 15 and 22 of 
Column I respectively. Fissures and holes have destroyed a sur- 
prisingly small proportion of the writing. 

3 The end of the first dividing line is one of the strokes that carried over from 
one piece of the papyrus to the other, indicating that the two were originally 
part of one sheet. 

^fajqKfAkW '. "/srl * . 

^i^s^v'sr.! ,.K' 


.. / 

n f , ' '!!!&'' 

<4(X$**t* ****G"r+ctn%, 

^^lyjf,^ i 

: , 4H^T/fAJi^< ^H^'iw/j^fn, 
'^HiTcTiffcr/^ " *^^f^^ 

/;.'./ ,-r^f/,V:, >- I i --..*...:. . 1 ^'i.^V^J'iJWJJtt::j!j_7. { 

.* r. -f ' 

., ; ' .. &:. ' 


I' ' ' '"'' t<M . 

. /' - -.- . . id*!: - , 

idw v - 

-JwP ; :':>v._ 



nfMoJc^.'f v - 
?!?%*?"*&*&* *+r 

c.-- * HIT*<TT ox>^ v ^ 



^1. ' " ^-^W|T' ^TVJw J V* I - T 

^vwo^^^^^^^^^v e^^^p^YT-2 

^^rlMayc^^^^^TV V'J^^/TJS*.^^^ 

^^n^cr^J^^j3\L t :.^^^TW^si*fc*fiygP^ : 

:^^2^H^^g?^ '-V^IW*^^^ 



Column I 

1. ["Ayy&os to n(vplo)v i\]&\w&] W& *& Acts 8.26 

2. [X]i7T7rof Xe7K') dpaords irop- 

3. eWfyn (card 

4. eVl TT)V 68A 

5. crap dird 'I(epou<ra)X^i els Fdfav 

6. avrtj tffriv <ip)?/ips(.) | Kal &va<r- 27 

7. rds liropevBri' Kal I8o> 

8. i}p A[Wt]of [eyjwDxos 

9. TJJS KavSd/cjjs Ba<rtXl<rai7s 

10. AWt67rwp 8s fa M Trd- 

11. <H7S T^ 

12. 8s Ai/AWtet 

13. o-wp els 'I(epowa)A#/i['j | oSros iwoo 1 - 28 

14. rptyuv Kadrifjtevos 

15. eVl roO &PHO.TOS aitrov 

16. Kal &vylvuffK.ov rdv 

17. TTpw^Ti}v 'H[<r]alav I eiirey 29 

18. 8 rd rvCeO^a r 

19. irp6<reA0e Ka[l] K 

20. TI rq) ap/ia[ri] 

21. 7TpO(T6Xfi[<b]j> M d $lXt7T- 30 

22. TTOS fJKovffw abrov &va- 

Column II 

1. yiv&ffKovTos 'H[<raiai' T&V] 

2. irpo<f>'f)Tr}V Kal 

3. &vo6x^>(')&pa 

4. d apa7wc!xrKeis(;) I 6 Si et- 31 

5. T6V* ir&s yap B.V 8vvalfj,t)v 

6. lav fj,rj TIS 68rjyfjffi nf', 

7. TrapeKdXe^f re r^y flXi7T- 

8. irov &vafl&VTa Kadivai 

9. aiiv airqj. 1 17 5e irfpiox?! 32 

10. r^s ypa<f>r)s ty &veyiva(r- 

11. KCV ^ aflnj' <>s irp6j8a- 

12. rov eVl ff<t>ayfiv ijx^n 

13. Kal cbs djuvos ivavriov 


14. TOV Kclp[q]vTos airrov 

15. &<f>uvos(.) 

16. '0 fc TUrpgs tyeipev Acts 10.26 

17. abrbv \iyuv(') av&ff- 

18. rijQi Kal ycl> a&rds 

19. ftp(0panr)6s ei/u(.) | Kal owo- 27 

20. /uXv a6[r]4) eiff^X- 

21. Qov Kal [c]toplffKei\ <rvv- 

Column III 

2. 20i; T Trpds aiTotisO 28 

3. ^/ieis lirlffraffde &s 

4. adfairbv IOTW &vSpl 

5. 'Ioi;5auX?) 

6. tpxtaQcii &vSpl 

7. X?. K[d]/toi [6] 

8. nijdfya [K\oiv6t> $ &K&6ap- 

9. TOV Xy[v &]'(0pt07r)o' | Sid 29 


12. Truyddvo/taft] oSv rift 

13. X67Q) fjLTT^jjaf/aff64 

14. M; I ^ 8k Eop^Xtos ?0r?(") 30 

15. 07ro(sic) Ter&pTijs ^inipas 

16. M^XP 1 ravTtjs ri}s wpas 

17. ^/LM;V vi;cT[e]6o>j' /cai 

18. TT)?* ivvkriff irpoffcv- 

19. x^MfMos i" M4> oka? 

20. Kai i8[o] 

21. 6H /Ltou f 

Column IV 

1. Xaju7rp I Kai 0i;o > l[i'(')K]op- 31 

2. i^Xie dffijKovar6rj crov 

3. ^ irpocrfvx'tl nal al 

4. IJfJLOffVVI] ffOV 

5. ftfcrai' [roC d( 

6. TOW 0(eo)0(.) 


8:26 avatrras iropevBrjTi. D40: avaerr^t KCU iroptvov NAB cet omn. 27 
/3a<rtXi<T(n?s codd omn exc D*; add TWOS D*; os eXjXu0ei NBC 2 D 2 : om. o$ 
K*AC*D*; ets Iepov<raXq/i codd omn exc D*: om. eis D*. 28 euros wroorpe^wv : 
t\v $6 (re) viroffrpefav omn; KoJSim&os "D* min: icat KaQquwos plur; avroi/ codd omn 
exc D*: om D*; cat aveyivuffxev KBC al plur: avayeivuffKuv D sah; TOP vpwfniTijv 
Hffatav KABD (I<rata0 al: Herata? roc vpo^rjTijv C 31 sah. 30 vpoff\6uv : 
irpoffSpanuv omnes; r<o euwwx : om omn; apa : add ye omn. 31 ov codd omn 
exc A: om A; o5jj7i;<rei MB (B: o5a7j<rei) CE al: oStiyijcri] AB 8 HLP. 32 Kcipavros 
NACEHL al: Keipovros BP al. 

10:26 ijyeipev avrov ^ ABODE: avrov -qyetpcv HLP etc.; o.vo.<rri\Bi. codd omn 
exc D: rtTroieis D; KOI eyu MBC 61: Ka7w ADHLP; auras etjut plur: transp. 
avros ante eyw C, add us KCU (ru D*E. 27 aurco codd omn exc D: om. D; etffr]\0et> 
KCLI cvpurKei plur: /cat eureXduv re /cat evpev D. 28 v/tets plur: add /SeXrtoi' D; 
ovSpt aXXo^vXco D 8 *: om. avSpi rel.; o 5eos eSei&i' BC (eireSt^v D) HLP: eSeifc" 
o 0cos MAE al. 29 jueraire/u^tets plur: add u^ vnuv DE. 30 o 5e KopvrjXtos: 
Kat o Kopj'ijXtos omn; reroprtjj plur: TIJS rptrijs D*; ravTijs TIJS plur: rjjs aprt D; 
riftiiv vyffTtvuv /cat A J (om. icat DL) EHP: om. vijffTtvuv MA*BC: rip tvvaTijv 
plur: add re D. 


Col. I, 1. As restored this line comprises 25 letters. In view of the 
crowding of the letters hi the first nine lines (cf . above, 
p. 165) this is not unreasonable. But perhaps Hyy&os 
was abbreviated &yy(t-\)os. 

I, 5. In els the long vertical stroke of the writer's uncial iota 
is superimposed upon a cursive form of the same letter. 
I, 13. There is not enough room after 'I(epouo-a)Xi7/i for the fy 
which text and grammar would lead one to expect at 
this point or in this vicinity. A punctuation mark (full 
stop) is probably all that has been lost here. 

I, 16. In view of II, 1 and 10, &vfyivuffKov is probably an error 

for 6.veyivu<TKv. 

II, 5. Either the writer has incorrectly written dvv&wv, which 

would not be unlike him, or the iota of dwal^v is joined 
with mu in a ligature. In view of the ligature joining 
mu and eta he seems to deserve the benefit of the doubt 
at this point. 

II, 10. bvcylvwuev was first written &vaylv<a<rKv. 

II, 11. Like the dividing line between lines 14 and 15, the alpha 
of 7rp6/3aroj/ carries over to the second piece of papyrus, 
showing that the two were originally parts of one sheet. 

II, 12. ff<f>ayriv is improbable. 


II, 14. The upper left corner of the alpha of nclp[a]vTos is visible 
at the left of the fissure; a,{rr6v was first written ainov, 
as TOV at the beginning of the line was first written TOV. 

II, 20. 'EurifXfofr probably an error for clffrj\6ei>. 

III, 5. It is difficult to say what has been written here for 

'lovoaly. Perhaps an original 'Iov5aio> was changed to 
'lovBalov and corrected to 'lovdaiq by the insertion above 
the line of a compressed omega. 

III, 8. noivbv seems first to have been written KOVOI and then 

corrected by adding iota in the correct place above the 
line and changing final iota to nu. 

Ill, 12. The second dbv has been deleted. 

Ill, 16. The alpha of Tavrris is superimposed upon an eta. Per- 
haps the writer began to write ju&pi TIJS, but caught 
himself in tune. 

Ill, 17. The initial nu of vijffTtvuv is superimposed upon tau. 
Perhaps the writer began fjurjv T^V ivv&rijv vijarduv and 
corrected himself. 

IV, 2. The kappa of clffquotodri is superimposed upon an indis- 

tinguishable letter. 

IV, 3. The chi of Trpoereux^ is superimposed upon a sigma; al 
may first have been w. 

IV, 5. After ^j^o-^aav the copyist first wrote TOV 0(eo)u in the 
cursive script into which he had fallen. Cursive 6(&>)v 
was then changed to the uncial form, perhaps as being 
more appropriate to the importance of the word. Fi- 
nally TOV 0(eo)v was deleted and given its correct place in 
line 6. 'Ev&irtov was first written tvwiriov. 


The only available evidence of date is that supplied by the form 
in which the text is rendered. 

The script stems ultimately from the Schonschrift of Greek literary 
manuscripts and its relationship to the best representatives of the 
so-called Bibelstil is not very close. A cursive strain enters into 
the composition of the script. This comes to clearest expression 
in what was begun as the last line of the whole text (Col. IV, 
5). But it also affects individual letters and combinations of 
letters throughout. Cursive tendencies are most frequently to be 
seen in the forms of a i\ X ju TT v. The letters of the diphthongs and 


at are almost invariably joined, r n K 7 6 followed by a vowel, and 
a followed by p are also often written in continuous form. In 
addition to this cursive element there is to be noted a degeneration 
in the uncial forms, x * K and sometimes e are relatively too large; 
o is now and again left open at the top; 7 and a lean to the right; 
the tail of p drops below the line and the second foot of K usually 
fails to touch it, much like the foot of v. Moreover the lines are 
by no means straight or of uniform height. The general similarity 
of the hand to that of the rhetorical text, Berliner Klassikertexte V, 
1, p. 82 ff, of the middle of the fourth century, is marked, and the 
writing should belong to the same general period. 4 

The question is whether the writer's knowledge of literary con- 
ventions and his purpose in the composition of the text corrobo- 
rate the impression made by the script. In general it may be said 
that he knows the conventions of manuscript composition. He uses 
the familiar abbreviations: iX^/i (Col. I, 5, 13) ; TWO. (I, 18), owfs, Hvov 
(Col.II,19;III,9),^>(III,7; IV, 5,6),[*U] (Col. !,!). He carefully 
indents the last line in each column of text. His orthography, while 
not above reproach (cf . t\&v for Uti&v III, 7, and alffdijri for fodrjTi. 
Ill, 21) is at times better than that of the great fourth-century 
codices (cf. avaylvuffMv I, 16, <rvvofu\uv II, 19-20, and kvvb.rf\v III, 
18, with &vaydv(affKfv, avvoneCMav and tv&Tijv of B). He uses the 
dieresis in the fashion of the earlier manuscripts on words beginning 
with iota or upsilon whether followed by a vowel or not. 6 Of punc- 
tuation he knows the dot, indiscrimmately placed with reference 
to the line of script (I, 5, 7, 17, 20; II, 5, 9; III, 7), and the semi- 
colon (III, 14; cf. II, 6 where it appears as a simple comma), but 
uses them less and less as his work progresses. The period seems 
to mark either a full or a half stop; the semicolon indicates a 
question. 7 He does not use accents or breathings. 

In view of the writer's knowledge of conventions, it seems pref- 

4 W. Schubart, Papyri Graecae Berolinenses, 1911, no. 43a; for the date cf. id., 
Griechische Palaeographie, 1925, p. 138. 
6 Traube, op. dt., pp. 56-87. 

6 'I(pov<ra)Xifri I, 5; 'lovdaly III, 5; J5o6 I, 7, 111,20; fyriJsHI. It is omitted 
on the 'I(epouora)X^ of 1, 13. Cf . on the use of the dieresis, Gregory, Textkritik, 
Vol. II, 1902, p. 905. 

7 The system is thus more highly developed but less carefully followed than 
in the great uncial codices of the fourth century. Cf. Scrivener, Criticism of 
the New Testament, Vol. I, 1899, p. 48. 


erable to suppose that the inelegancies of his product are the result 
of carelessness and haste, rather than the normal expression of a 
degenerate uncial tradition. He was accustomed to cursive writing, 
but acquainted with a good uncial script 8 , which he here handled in 
haphazard fashion. This general conclusion would agree with the 
existence hi his transcription of a proportionately large number of 
errors carelessly corrected. 


One of the most vexing problems connected with the interpreta- 
tion of P 50 is its raison d'etre. What particular purpose could be 
served by this careless transcription of two selections from Acts in 
the general form and style of contemporary codices? A final answer 
to this question is scarcely to be given. It is clear that what we 
have before us is not a part of some more extensive composition 
whose significance would be clearer if more of it were preserved. 
The document is complete in itself as the way in which it was folded 
and the absence of impressions of previous columns of text upon 
pages 1 and 4 show. This and the extent of its selections make it 
thoroughly clear also that we are not dealing with a fragment of 
or an excerpt from a lectionary or menologion. True, Acts 8 : 26, 
the passage with which P 50 opens, is the beginning of the lesson 
for the fifth day of the third octave of Easter in the ancient lec- 
tionary systems. But the pericope in question runs through 8: 39 
whereas the selection of the papyrus stops at 8: 32. The corre- 
sponding lesson in Acts 10, for the third day of the fourth octave 
of Easter, comprises vss. 21-33, whereas the text of the papyrus 
begins at vs. 26, in the middle of the story, and ends at vs. 3 1. 9 
Finally, it is evident that the selections do not correspond, save at 
8: 26, with any of the systems of capitula into which the text of 
Acts was divided in the more important of the ancient manuscripts. 

Failing to find an explanation along these more obvious h'nes one 
turns naturally to such alternatives as exercise in handwriting or 
copying, and the production of an amulet. The difficulty with 
the former is the lack of effort on the copyist's part really to apply 
what he knows about the approved methods of composition. The 

8 Schubart, op. tit., Abb. 101, p. 144. 

9 Of. Gregory, op. cit., Vol. I, 1901, p. 345. 


difficulty with the second is the innocuousness of the passages 
excerpted. 10 

The only other clue to the purpose of the document is the con- 
tent of the selections themselves. Neither records in its entirety 
the narrative from which it is taken. Rather, they comprise just 
enough of the stories of Philip and the Ethiopian Eunuch, and 
Peter and Cornelius, to show how two Christian apostles acting 
under divine instruction came to disregard the barriers imposed 
upon them by the Law and "attached themselves" to pagans. 
K6\\a<rOai is actually the one important word that appears in both 
selections. This being so it is not unreasonable to suggest that 
P 50 was written in service of missionary or homiletic purposes or 
both. It may be the work of a Christian preacher culling from a 
New Testament codex or for that matter from a lectionary 
materials for the instruction of his parishioners on the character 
and scope of Christian missions. Should this suggestion have any 
merit whatsoever, it would explain the carelessness in the script 
and the transcription. The document was intended for personal 
use, and the user's interest lay in the content of the selections it 
reproduced. Whether this definition of purpose would set any 
upper limits as to date, I am unable to say. 


The brief critical apparatus given above is sufficient to indicate 
where the affinities of the text lie. As we should expect, in a 
document of Egyptian provenience, they are distinctly outside the 
sphere of the "Western" text. True, there are three readings in 
which P 50 agrees with D against BN but at least two of them are 
not serious. The omission of nol before /cafl^uepos (8:28) and the 
addition of &v5pl before dXXo0iXw (10:28) may have their origin in 
the writer's carelessness just as readily as in the text which he was 
copying. The third, dvaords TropeMfyri for o.vaari]Q{, /cal iropevov (8 : 26), 
is more serious, unless, indeed, it merely transfers to vs. 26 the 

10 On the use of excerpts from Scripture for amulet purposes, cf. Leclercq's 
article Amulettes in Cabrol, Dictionnaire d'Archtologie Chrttienne, Vol. I, 2, col. 
1788, and especially the papyrus from the Erzherzog Rainer Collection reproduced 
there. The position taken here is the result of friendly discussion with Prof. 
E. C. Colwell. 


dva<rrds tiroptvBri combination of vs. 27." However, the agreement 
of P 50 with D in any or all of these readings is outweighed by its 
failure to show the characteristic "Western" variant &ir6 TJ/S Tplrris 
flfjitpas in 10:30. 

To this evidence against affinities with the "Western" text a 
cursory inspection of the apparatus will add the indications of a 
thorough-going agreement with BN, and when B and N disagree, 
with B in preference to K. The four unique readings of the docu- 
ment, ofiros faoffTptyuv for ?jv dk itiroffTptyuv, irpoffekd&v for irpoffdpan&v, 
fiirev with T< cbvoi/xv and &pa without yt, all in the early part of the 
text (the first in 8:28, the other three in 8:30!), are scarcely of 
sufficient importance in the work of so careless a transcriber to set 
his archetype apart from the BK group. The writer was then using 
the "authorized" text of the Egyptian church as we might expect 
him to do if his station and purpose were what we have suggested 
them to be. As the relation of his archetype to A is negative, it 
may be that he lived outside the immediate environment of the 
great metropolis of Egypt. 

"This would appear to be the ultimate basis of the "Western" variant in 
any case. 



Je voudrais, dans cet article, dire que ce texte est trs de"fectueux 
et en donner les raisons. II n'entre nullement dans ma pens6e de 
d&iigrer les fivangiles, pour lesquels j'ai du respect et de 1'admira- 
tion. La question est tout autre. Nous sommes en presence de 
textes conserves dans une multitude de manuscrits, qui sont loin de 
dire tous la meme chose. On a fait un choix parmi leurs variantes, 
ce qui est une oeuvre humaine, done susceptible d'erreur. Ce choix 
a-t-il & judicieux, bien pese", ou s'est-on lourdement trompe"? 

La premiere Edition, celle d'firasme, date de 1516. Elle a e"te" 
faite hdtivement parce que I'&titeur Froben, de Bale, voulait qu'elle 
parut avant la grande Edition de la Bible qu'on pre"parait a Alcala. 
Urasme s'est servi de manuscrits que le hasard avait mis a sa ported, 
et, fait inte"ressant a relever imme'diatement, le texte qu'il a ainsi 
constitue* ne diffre que relativement peu de celui qui est en usage 
aujourd'hui. II y eut ensuite une foule d'autres Editions, qu'il est 
superflu d'e'nume'rer. Au XVIII 8 si^cle, c'est la science allemande 
qui s'occupe le plus de cette question, et au XIX e son autorite" vient 
confirmer des rSsultats, qu'on croit de"cisifs. En 1862 Tischendorf 
public le fameux Sinaiticus, dont il avait de*couvert les premiers 
feuillets en 1842 et qui devient avec le Vaticanus le document le 
plus estime*. La science anglaise s'engage dans une voie parallele. 
Une opinion collective s'e'tablit. II y a bien deci dela quelques 
reserves, mais le fait est celui-ci: nous posse*dons aujourd'hui trois 
grandes Editions savantes, Tischendorf, Westcott-Hort, Soden, et 
elles different trs peu les unes des autres. Tischendorf s'apppuie 
principalement sur le Sinaiticus, Westcott-Hort sur le Vaticanus. 
Quant a Soden, apr&s avoir annonce" monts et merveilles, il arrive, 
par une me'thode d'apparence toute differente, a des re*sultats qui 
sont sensiblement les m&nes que ceux de ses pr&tecesseurs. 

De cette grande similitude pendant quatre siScles on tire 1'argu- 
ment que void: notre texte doit e~tre bon, puisque, apres un e'norme 
travail, des savants repute's sont a peu de chose prs unanhnes, les 



divergences ne portant que sur de menus details. Mais cette una- 
nimite' vient simplement de ce que, depuis firasme, les savants ou 
bien ont eu seulement a leur disposition, ou bien ont pre'fe're' delibe 1 - 
re"ment un grand groupe de manuscrits, qui a e"t6 de beaucoup le 
plus prolifique. Ces manuscrits e*tant tous plus ou moins e"troite- 
ment apparent^, il est naturel qu'ils aient beaucoup de traits 
communs. La question est done de savoir ce que vaut ce groupe, 
que je de"signerai, pour abre"ger, par KB (Sinaiticus et Vaticanus), 
en n'ignorant naturellement pas ce que cette designation comporte 
d'impre'cision. Si ce groupe est excellent, on est dans le vrai. Si 
on peut de*montrer qu'il ne 1'est pas, il y a lieu de proce"der a une 
revision. Or, je crois qu'en ge*ne*ral il est mauvais. 

Le point capital dans la critique textuelle eVangelique est que, 
ds le II 8 si&cle au plus tard, nos textes ont e*te* profond&nent re- 
manie's. Ce que nous voudrions savoir est: qu'e*tait-ce que Je"sus? 
qu'a-t-il fait? qu'a-t-il dit? que lui a-t-on fait dire? Mais de trs 
bonne heure on a pose* le probl&me tout autrement et on s'est de- 
mand6: qu'est-ce que la doctrine de J6sus? comment faut-il la 
presenter au monde? Les remaniements que nos textes ont ainsi 
subis sont grands. Nous le savons par des te"m6ignages trds explicites 
d'0rigne et de J6r6me et mieux encore par les divergences des manu- 
scrits les plus anciens. Les papyrus Chester-Beatty (III 6 s.) attes- 
tent des remaniements. Ceux plus anciens encore (150) e'dite's 
tout re'cemment par Bell et Skeat sous le titre de Fragments of an 
unknown Gospel en attestent d'autres. Les modifications les plus 
nombreuses et aussi les plus graves apporte*es aux textes primitifs 
proviennent de ce qu'on a voulu mettre en harmonic les diff^rents 
eVangiles. II n'y a peut-etre pas une ligne ou, dans tel ou tel manu- 
scrit, on ne voie passer dans un eVangile ce qui appartient a 1'autre. 
Jusqu'ici on n'a gu&re signale* ces harmonisations que dans des mots, 
des groupes de mots ou des phrases. En re*alite*, elles portent souvent 
sur des passages tout entiers. 

Le Sinaiticus, le Vaticanus et la Vulgate datent d'une e*poque od 
ces remaniements avaient atteint leur apogee et ou on cherchait a 
les codifier. Ce sont des textes officiels. La beaute* de leur e"criture 
augmente leur valeur marchande, mais diminue leur valeur tex- 
tuelle. Le manuscrit vraiment inte"ressant est celui qui, pour des 
raisons variables, s'est trouve 1 hors du grand courant et a e*te* copie* 
par quelque moine peu lettre", qui n'avait d'autre but que de sauver 
son dme et se souciait peu des theories en faveur dans les centres. 


II en existe de tels, et c'est le rapprochement de tous ces t&noignages 
qui permet de faire la critique de nos Editions. 

J'ai aborde" ces Etudes il y a bien longtemps et avec la conviction 
que j'e"tais en presence d'un travail scientifique s&ieux. Depuis, 
mes illusions ont disparu, une a une. L'oeuvre accomplie est tout 
entiere de deduction. On est parti de ce principe qu'il s'agissait 
d'un texte grec et que par consequent les manuscrits grecs surtout 
devaient faire foi. On a cru aussi que les plus anciens e"taient 
eVidemment les meilleurs. Arr^tons-nous sur ces deux points. 

II existe des traductions du texte grec: en latin, en syriaque, en 
copte, etc. Parmi les latines, celles qui sont ante"rieures a la reVi- 
sion de S. JeYdme et qu'on de"signe sous le nom ge'ne'rique d'itala 
ou de vieille latine, sont dignes de la plus grande attention. En 
re"alit6 ce sont moins des traductions que des caiques: un mot latin 
r6pond a un mot grec; le latin ainsi obtenu est souvent baroque, 
mais si on le retranspose en grec, on en retrouve le sens exact. 
Tres souvent 1'itala donne un texte que n'ont pas conserve les 
manuscrits grecs et qu'il y a lieu de tenir pour primitif . II en est 
d'ailleurs de meme du syriaque. D'autre part ces manuscrits latins 
ne le cdent nullement pour 1'anciennete* aux manuscrits grecs et 
on est mdme autorise* a croire que certains d'entre eux sont la tra- 
duction de manuscrits grecs plus anciens que ceux qui nous sont 
parvenus. Les e*diteurs ont connu leurs variantes, ils les ont cities 
dans leurs apparats critiques. Or, pas une fois, a ma connaissance, 
ils n'ont donne" raison au latin (ou au syriaque) centre le grec. Pas 
une fois non plus ils n'ont adopts une legon de manuscrits grecs en 
minuscules, quand elle n'avait pas pour re"pondant un manuscrit 
grec en onciales. Tous les philologues savent pourtant que, si 
1'dge d'un manuscrit entre en ligne de compte, il n'est pas en soi 
une preuve d'excellence. Des leyons de tout premier ordre se trou- 
vent dans des manuscrits de date poste>ieure. 

Chaque eVangeliste a sa morphologic, sa syntaxe, son vocabulaire. 
Le grec est, a ce point de vue, une langue tres spe"ciale, qui ne peut 
etre compared a aucune de celles dont nous avons 1'habitude. Une 
grammaire d'ensemble du Nouveau Testament, ou me"me des fivan- 
giles, est une absurdite". II y a autant de langues que d'auteurs. 
II faut y regarder a deux et i trois fois avant d'admettre chez Me 
du trop savant ou chez Lc du trop vulgaire. On peut, on doit, 
faire pour chaque auteur ce qu'un physiologiste appellerait une 
analyse du sang, et c'est la le meilleur de tous les moyens pour 


reconnaitre si une phrase oil un passage sont authentiques. De 
cela les e'diteurs ne se sont nullement soucie"s. Une forme quel- 
conque attested par le Sinaiticus ou le Vaticanus, et a plus forte 
raison par les deux a la fois, a 6t6 considered par eux comme bonne, 
quelle qu'elle fut. II en est qui hurlent d'etre dans le voisinage 
1'une de 1'autre. 

Enfin on trouve des variantes en nombre incalculable. Elles ont 
une raison d'etre, il doit exister entre elles des rapports, il doit y 
avoir possibility d'entrevoir comment elles sont de'rive'es les unes 
des autres. Pourquoi a certains passages sont-elles si nombreuses 
qu'il est impossible d'etablir un texte objectif, et pourquoi a ces 
passages-la constate-t-on des contradictions avec la langue habi- 
tuelle de 1'auteur ou un texte qui pe'che a d'autres points de vue, 
le plus souvent les deux a la fois? A ce probleme la seule solution 
qu'on ait donne'e la plupart du temps est 1'autorite du Sinaiticus et 
du Vaticanus, plus rarement de 1'Alexandrinus et de son groupe. 
Or, dans la majorite" des cas ces manuscrits ont tort. 

Toute la critique textuelle des iSvangiles (et je dirai du Nouveau 
Testament) doit etre reprise par la base. Les differences entre les 
diverges parties de la tradition sont considerables. II ne s'agit pas 
d'un temps de verbe ou d'une transposition de mots, ou d'un 
membre de phrase omis ou surajoute", mais de bien autre chose. 
Je ne suis pas le premier a e*mettre une affirmation de ce genre. 
On a tant travailie sur ces textes qu'il est difficile et peut-Stre 
impossible d'exprimer a leur sujet une idee entierement nouvelle. 
Deja en 1890, dans sa collation du manuscrit 604 (Introd., p. CXVI), 
Hoskier e"crivait: "But do let us realize that we are in the infancy 
of this part of the science, and not imagine that we have success- 
fully laid certain immutable foundation stones, and can safely con- 
tinue to build thereon. It is not so, and much, if not all, of these 
foundations must be demolished." Mais il ne s'agit pas ici de 
revendiquer une priorite, dont la seule idee serait particulierement 
deplacee en pareil sujet. La question interessante est de savoir 
ou est la verite et comment on peut espe"rer la decouvrir. 

Dans ce but j'attirerai encore 1'attention sur un fait ignore de 
la plupart de ceux qui s'occupent des fivangiles. La langue de 
ces textes est encore une langue vivante. Ce n'est pas du grec ancien, 
mais du grec moderne, sous une forme trs peu archaique. Un 
Grec d'instruction moyenne les comprend plus ais&nent que moi- 
m&ne je ne comprends Montaigne, dont cependant 400 ans seule- 


ment me apparent . II y a un large f osse entre P anglais d'auj ourd'hiii 
et la langue de Shakespeare, et seulement une petite pente entre 
le grec actuel et celui des fivangiles. La grande erreur a ete de 
partir, pour en etablir le texte et pour 1'expliquer, du grec ancien 
lui-m&ne. II en est resulte qu'on a fait un travail purement li- 
vresque, qu'on n'a pas vu comment se posaient les problemes et que 
par consequent on les a mal r^solus. II est des points sur lesquels 
le premier paysan grec venu aurait vu plus clair que le plus savant 
des commentateurs occidentaux. 

On ne s'etonnera qu'a demi que ce c6te de la question soit reste* 
dans Pombre jusqu'ici, mais comment se fait-il que pour les autres 
on ait encore si peu apergu toute 1'etendue du mal? C'est d'abord, 
me semble-t-il, qu'il existe dans la science des opinions collectives. 
Dans le domaine technique, elles n'ont, quand elles sont fausses, 
qu'une dur6e limitee; 1'experience suffit a en demontrer le mal- 
fonde. En philologie, 1'erreur est beaucoup plus tenace, parce 
qu'elle est moins ais^ment refutable. C'est ensuite que les editeurs 
ont neglige de mentionner beaucoup de variantes, juge"es par eux 
sans inte're't, et qu'ils ont pre'sente' les autres dans leurs apparats 
critiques d'une fagon morcele'e, en decoupant le texte par mots ou 
par petites tranches. II f aut alors un veritable travail, et un travail 
ge'ne'ralement peu facile, pour reconstituer la teneur de toute une 
phrase dans tel ou tel manuscrit. Souvent c'est materiellement 
impossible, faute dedications suffisantes. Les donne'es du pro- 
bleme restent ainsi fuyantes, et c'est pourquoi ceux qui, n'accordant 
pas une confiance aveugle aux e"diteurs, tentent de verifier, ne sur- 
sautent pas en confrontant le texte et 1'apparat critique. 

D'un volume en preparation ou j'essaie d'appuyer par des ex- 
emples les ide"es que je viens d'exprimer je voudrais aujourd' hui 
extraire un texte court destine a montrer comment, a mon avis, 
peuvent etre r^solues certaines de ces questions. II comporte de 
nombreuses variantes, pour le detail desquelles je renvoie a Legg, 
Nouum Testamentum graece secundum textum Westcotto-Hortianum, 
Oxonii, 1935. L'auteur a, comme on sait, pris pour base le texte 
de Westcott-Hort, sans prejuger de sa valeur, et donne en note de 
nombreuses variantes, qui forment le corps meme de son travail. 

On lit chez Tischendorf-Marc, chap. 6: Kal StaTrepdo-aires tirl rty 
yrjv fj\8ov els Tevvriffapkr Kal wpoffupulffdifffav, 64 Kal ti-e\Q&VT<itv airr&v &K 
rov TrXolou e0s iirvyvbvTes avrbv K irept,48panov tfXijv T^V xfopav indvi}v 


tfpt-avro iiri TOW Kpa/3drrois TOUS KCIKCOJ tywras ircpufrtpttv, &TTOV %KOVOV 
6Yi i<TT\.v, B6 Kal 6Vou i&v etcrcTropciieTO, els xcojuas f) els 7r6Xcis $ els bypobs, 
iv rats byopais triQeaav TOVS &ffOevovi>Tas nai irap&t&Kovv avrdv 'tva K&V 
TOV Kpaairtdov TOV Ijuariou aro9 &^tavrai t /cat 60*01 &v tf^avro avrov eVajfoiro. 
Variantes: &i>: &j> Westc.-H. Sod.; WO.VTO: ^TTTOVTO: Sod. Je n'ai pas 
gard6 la ponctuation de 1'^diteur. 

AittTrepAo-ai'Tes, mot savant, dont on ne trouve qu'un autre exemple 
chez Me, ^, un passage trs suspect (5, 21). Les principales vari- 
antes sont: KCU Star. TjXQov CTTI TI;V yrjv eis Fev. j xat 8ta?r. 7?X0ov 
7Ti YTJ^ rey. | inde cum transfretassent peruenerunt in terram i. J^sus 
a dit a ses disciples de se diriger vers Bethsai'da (6, 45) ; or il sont 
censes arriver & Genne'saret. A prendre Bethsai'da sans le discuter, 
il y a une anomalie. N'est-ce pas(i) qui a raison et n'arrive-t-on 
pas simplement .a destination? Ce serait 1'intrusion de rew^o-op^r 
(d'apres Mt 14, 34) qui aurait provoqu6 tout ce trouble. La Ie9on 
des ^diteurs, qui est celle de B, semble la plus mauvaise de toutes. 

UpoffupiJ,iff8ri(rav, mot savant, hapax dans le NT, manque dans la 
majorit^ des mss, n'est attest^ en latin que par f 1 vg, qui est un 
groupe execrable. Dans vg m&ne, R ne donne pas et devant ce 
verbe, ce qui prouve bien qu'il a 6t6 surajoute". 

UcpirptxU) hapax dans tout le NT. Me eVite, sauf quand ils sont 
du parler ties courant, les mots composes d'une preposition et 
d'un verbe. 

lpa.vTo liri rots Kpa/3ArTots roiis KaKws %xpvro.s irtpujttpeiv. Encore 
un verbe & proposition. Dans le NT on n'en trouve que deux 
autres exemples (II Cor 4, 10; Eph 4, 14), appartenant tous deux 
& la langue savante, qui n'est pas celle de Me. En outre, et ceci 
merite une attention particuliere, Me emploie souvent &PXO/XCU 
"commencer a, etre en train de." Or, il construit ce verbe, comme 
en frangais ou en grec moderne, soit imm^diatement avec un infini- 
tif, soit en intercalant seulement un pronom: "il commenya & dire, 
il commenga ^, leur dire" (26 exemples). Une seule exception 
(12, 1): *7paTo aurois iv irapajSoXats XaXeti*, mais un ms. de 1'itala 
(a) ne donne pas iv fl-apa/foXcus; c'est probablement lui qui est dans 
le vrai. A notre passage 1'intercalation est particulierement longue : 
ce n'est pas 1& de la langue de Me. 

oVou (4)dv elo-eTTope^ero, sans 6tre choquant a cette 6poque, n'a 
pour repondant chez Me que 60-01 &v ij^avro qui vient plus loin et 
dv &v yrovvTo 15, 6, qui ne se recommande ni par le relatif oV, ni 


m&me par le moyen JTOVVTO, bien qu'il y ait de ce dernier (en appar- 
ence) d'autres exemples dans notre texte de Me. 

iv TCUS d/yopeus. Le mot &yp6s signifie tant6t "champ," tant6t 
"ferme, mas," les latins traduisent ici par villa. Mais, qu'il s'agisse 
de "champs" ou de "fermes," comment peut-on y trouver des 
places publiques? On a imput6 aux eVangelistes bien des absurdity's 
dont ils ne sont vraiment pas responsables. Les variantes sont 
multiples: des mss. omettent, les uns eis aypovs, les autres (dont N) 
tv rats ayopais. II en est qui disent tv rats TrXaretats, detail sur 
lequel j'aurai 1'occasion de revenir plus loin. 

trldcffav, hapax dans le NT, forme tres savante a cette e"poque, 
ou IrWow e"tait de"j& si fortement implant^ qu'on le trouve jusque 
dans les Actes, dont la langue est beaucoup plus savante que celle 
de Me. 

todwovvras, forme savante, hapax chez Me, qui cependant parle 
souvent des malades, mais qui les de*signe par les mots ol KO.K&S 

K&V, bien qu'attest6 a travers toute la gre"cit6 et jusqu'a ce jour 
dans le sens de "du moins" ne se rencontre ailleurs dans les fivan- 
giles avec ce sens qu'& Me 5, 28, verset qui re'clamerait une dis- 
cussion spe"ciale, et ou en tous cas les manuscrits ne sont pas d'accord 
& ce sujet. II y a entre les deux passages une grande analogic de 
termes et de sens: K&V, ATTTOJUCU, roO Kpa.<rirt8ov TOV inariov abrov dans 
divers mss. Je signale le fait sans y insister pour le moment et en 
disant seulement qu'il serait peut-etre aventureux de conclure a 
I'authenticite* de 1'un ou de 1'autre passage. 

Enfin il est dit que tous ceux qui ont touch6 Je"sus sont sauve"s, 
c.-a-d. gu^ris. On retrouve 1& une id^e de Mt, qui aime ces gue"risons 
en masse: 4, 23; 4, 24; 8, 16; 9, 35; 10, 1; 12, 15. 

Me se serait done inge"ni6 & e"crire dans une langue qui n'e"tait pas 
la sienne et il y aurait accumute les formes et les constructions 
insolites. Par une Strange coincidence, les copistes auraient encore 
compliqu6 les choses. Un expos6 complet exigerait I'&ude du 
passage synoptique de Mt. Je 1'entreprendrai ailleurs. Ici, je ne 
me propose que de montrer un des de"fauts de nos Editions, qui est 
1'absence de philologie et 1'acceptation de variantes parfois extrava- 

Ce texte de Me pourrait bien 6tre tire", du moins en partie, d'un 
passage du chapitre 5 des Actes, ou il est dit : u na\\ov 8k irpo<rTiQevTo 


7$ Kvplq irMiBri avSpuv ml yvvaiK&v, l *&<m Kal els ras TrXareltts 

TOVS dotfems Kal rifleVai eVl K\ivapiuv Kal KpajBdrrajJ', Ivo. lp\oiitvov 
HeYpov K&V fi ffKia eTTiffKiaffji Tivl abrutv. "Sv^pxero Kal r6 7rXJ)0os TUV 
7re*pt Trb\<av 'lepovffciMin ^epovres dotfems Kal 6xXov/z^vous bird TTVCV- 
jttdrcoj* aKadapruv, oirives iBepairebovTo airavres. On a certainement 

e*tabli un rapport entre les deux passages, car SU de vg ajoutent a 
ce dernier staiw saZm' fiebant, sans aucune conjonction de liaison. 
Or c'est par salui fiebant = IO&SOVTO que les latins terminent le 
passage de Me. J'ai souligne 1 ci-dessus les mots qui me paraissent 
avoir inspire" le premier remanieur et qu'il a fait passer chez Me en 
les modifiant un peu, mais sans tenir compte du fait que, si la 
langue des Actes est savante, celle de Me ne 1'est pas et que ce 
qui convient a 1'un des textes ne convient pas ne'cessairement a 
1'autre. On remarquera aussi qu'il y a coincidence par certaines 
variantes. Act els ras irXareias: kv TaTs TrXareiais; Me kv TCUS &yo- 
pats: h raw TrXareiats. Act aaOevels', Me frffdevovvras : toOevels. 

Enfin, on ne peut accepter dans les Actes iwl K\ivapiuv Kal Kpa- 
P&TTWV. Lc e" vite le mot vulgaire KpafHarros. Quand il le trouve chez 
Me il le remplace par K\ivl8ua>. Voir Me 2, 4 = Lc 5, 19; Me 2, 
11 = Lc 5, 24 (mais Me 2, 12 KpafiarTov = Lc 5, 25 1$' $ KaT&To). 
Aux passages synoptiques Mt (2, 2; 9, 6) dit K\IVIJ. II n'y a done 
nulle apparence que Kpaparruv soit authentique dans les Actes. 
Comme d'autre part K\LV&PIOV est synonyme de K\ivi8iov, les deux 
mots K\ivapi<av et Kpa^arruv disent exactement la me'me chose. Ce 
sont deux legons mises bout a bout, comme il arrive tres fr6quem- 
ment. Le ms. (a) en donne un exemple a Me 6, 56, od il rend 
iv rais a7opats par in foro et in plataeis. II est trds possible que 
Kpa/SdTTwv ait, comme salui fiebant, passe" de Marc dans Actes. 

C'est d'ailleurs la un point secondaire. Que notre texte de Me 
provienne ou non des Actes, c 'est un passage remanie" . Le lieu de des- 
tination n'e"tait pas Bethsaida (6, 45) que ne mentionnent pas 903 
1689, le groupe ne s'est pas non plus rendu a Genne"saret. Je"sus a 
dit aux disciples d'aller de 1'avant vers 1'autre rive, irpoayew els 
r6 irtpav, c.-a-d. vers Kapernaoum. Le ms (i), qui ne parle pas de 
Genne"saret, a garde" un vestige d'une meilleure tradition, ne contenant 
ici qu'une courte phrase, quelque chose comme Kal %\6ov eVl rfv yrjv. 
Telle est la tradition de Jn (6, 17) et c'est a Kapernaoum que s'ex- 
plique le mieux 1'apparition des Pharisiens et de quelques Lettre"s 
venus de Jerusalem. Mais ceci me'me n'est valable que si la deux- 
ieme temp^te sur le lac a existe" dans 1'original de Me, ce dont 


j'ai des raisons de douter; de sorte que la restitution que je viens 
de proposer ne s'appliquerait qu'a une forme plus ancienne de cet 
eVangile, mais non a 1'original. 

En supposant me'me que je me sois trompe* sur certains points, 
peut-on dire que le texte regu ait e"te" logiquement e*tabli? N'est-il 
pas surprenant que la masse et la nature des variantes, comme aussi 
la langue du texte, n'aient pas arr&e* les e*diteurs et qu'a aucun 
moment un peu d'induction ne soit venu troubler le raisonnement 
de"ductif et simpliste qui les a de*termine*s a choisir parmi les vari- 
antes celles des manuscrits qu'ils tenaient subjectivement pour les 
plus repre"sentatifs? 

Si j'ai choisi ce passage, ce n'est pas qu'il soit exceptionnel, mais 
uniquement parce qu'il se pr&tait a un expose" relativement court. 
On peut tenir la gageure suivante: qu'on prenne un passage quel- 
conque de cinq ou six lignes: il est possible de montrer que le texte 
n'en est pas correctement e"tabli. Les vues de ce genre rencontrent 
encore peu de cre*ance, mais ce n'est qu'une question de temps. On 
a tendance a de*fendre le texte regu, qui a pour lui la force de 
1'imprime", parce qu'on croit de*fendre Me, Mt, etc., alors qu'il 
s'agit, seulement, pour prendre le nom le plus typique parmi les 
e*diteurs, de Tischendorf-Marc, Tischendorf-Matthieu, etc. Si, 
dls le d6but, on avait pu suivre une autre me'thode, la situation 
serait renverse*e et il y aurait sans doute peu de chances pour qu'on 
adopte jamais le texte actuel. 

On ne saurait se dissimuler que les changements seront graves. 
Des passages entiers se trouveront ainsi remis en question et une 
distinction de principe doit 6tre faite. Ce qu'il s'agit d'atteindre, 
dans la mesure du possible, est le texte m&ne des auteurs. C'est 
la un travail essentiellement philologique. Mais il ne s'ensuit pas 
que ce qu'on 41iminera de la sorte n'ait aucune valeur. Grosso 
modo deux parts sont a faire dans ce qui provient des remanieurs. 
II existe des passages au-dessous de la me'diocrite' et qui cachent la 
belle simplicity du texte primitif. II en est d'autres au contraire 
qui, tout en ne remontant pas aux auteurs, appartiennent au cycle 
e'vange'lique et renferment de belles pense*es. On sacrifiera les 
premiers sans la moindre hesitation. Le jour oil ces Etudes auront 
assez progress^ pour qu'on puisse tenter une nouvelle Edition, on 
mettra les autres en appendice. 

J'ai de"ja dit ailleurs que je ne crois pas a 1'exclusivite* de ce qu'on 


pourrait appeler la me'thode philologique, ou m&ne, dans un sens 
plus 6troit encore, la me'thode linguistique. Sa valeur est certaine- 
ment grande, parce qu'elle permet de de*celer certaines corrup- 
tions que ge*ne*ralement d'autres faits viennent confirmer. Mais 
elle ne suffit pas a tout et ce n'est que par des combinaisons de 
me'thodes qu'on arrivera au re*sultat souhaite". Un fait ne pourra 
e"tre tenu pour acquis que lorsque d'aucun c6te* il ne se heurtera a 
un obstacle insurmontable. 

La corruption a e"t6 telle que jamais sans doute on n'arrivera a 
restituer les textes primitifs dans leur inte'grite', mais on en peut 
approcher. Ou trouvera-t-on les meilleurs el&nents? II n'est pas 
impossible qu'un jour quelque fragment de papyrus apporte un 
texte meilleur que ceux que nous connaissons; quelques lignes 
seraient suffisantes pour justifier toute une me'thode de corrections. 
Cependant les de"couvertes les plus re"centes rendent cette eVentua- 
lite" de plus en plus proble"matique, puisque, malgre* I'anciennet6 des 
documents, nous n'y trouvons encore que des remaniements. Bent- 
ley a de"j& fait observer que, dans I'e'tat actuel des choses, ce qui 
reste du vrai texte se trouve disse'minS dans une foule de manuscrits. 
C'est, non pas d'un groupe d'entre eux, mais d'une comparaison, 
que sortira, que jaillira peut-etre la lumiere. 

Et voici le plus extraordinaire de toute cette question. Ces textes 
sont de grande importance, ils inte'ressent I'humanite* tout entire, 
il en existe des milliers de manuscrits, ils sont connus, catalogue's, 
et cependant, & notre e*poque de photographic facile et rapide, nous 
ignorons totalement ce que dit rimmense majority d'entre eux. II 
ne me semble pas qu'on puisse qualifier de bonne la me'thode qui 
consiste & choisir quelques te*moins seulement, d'apres des ide'es 
pre*conc,ues, et a rendre des jugements, sans entendre aussi les autres 
te*moignages. Elle pouvait se justifier a une 6poque ou il e*tait 
unpossible de faire autrement. Y perse've'rer a 1'heure actuelle est 
mettre la charrue devant les boeufs. Est-il unpossible de fonder 
une organisation Internationale qui se proposerait la photographic 
et la publication de tous les documents sans aucune exception? 
C'est alors seulement qu'on saurait au juste de quoi on parle. Je 
connais tel manuscrit poste"rieur au X e siecle qui est seul, pour le 
moment, & donner certaines variantes dont on peut affirmer qu'elles 
s'imposent, malgr6 le te"moignage contraire de ceux qu'on appelle 
encore les grands manuscrits et qui, dans la majority des cas, ne 
sont que de second ou de troisieme ordre. 


LAURA B. 26 (146) 


The University of Chicago 

Nowhere has Professor Kirsopp Lake won more distinction than 
in the study of New Testament manuscripts. In the field of textual 
criticism, his publication of the text of Family 1 and his explora- 
tions of the Caesarean text have made valuable contributions to our 
knowledge. By the publication of collations and facsimile editions, 
he has greatly increased the manuscript resources available to the 
New Testament student. Most recently in collaboration with 
Silva Lake he is making an invaluable contribution to the study 
of Byzantine paleography by publishing photographic facsimiles of 
sample pages from all dated Greek minuscule manuscripts down to 
the year 1200 A.D. 1 The value of this work is increased by Pro- 
fessor Lake's command of the materials in the monasteries on 
Mount Athos. 

Since several other valuable contributions made by Professor 
Lake have come from his expeditions to the Holy Mountain, it 
seemed fitting to offer as a tribute to him here a study of the date 
of an Athos manuscript included hi the valuable series of dated 
Greek minuscules referred to above. The codex in question is 
Laura MS B. 26 (146), a Byzantine New Testament with Psalms 
and Odes, with a colophon giving the date 1084 A.D. 

Professor and Mrs. Lake publish a photograph and a transcrip- 
tion of the colophon. Then- doubt as to the exact date is indicated 
by a question mark after the date 1084. I quote then- comment 
on the colophon in full. "The colophon is in a different script and 
probably a later hand than the manuscript. It may be a copy of 
an original on a missing leaf. The cycle of the sun is three years 
wrong and the indiction one year wrong for the date given." 2 

1 M onumenta palaeographica vetera. First Series. Dated Greek Minuscule 
Manuscripts to the Year 1200 A.D. (Boston, 1934-1937.) 
2 Op. cit., Fasc. Ill, pp. 13-14 and PI. 188. 



My attention was drawn to the manuscript in the attempt to 
date the Four Gospels of Karahissar (Leningrad Gr. 105). The 
Leningrad codex was judged to be the work of the scribe of the 
famous Rockefeller McCormick New Testament, but this script in 
its turn had already been identified as either identical with, or very 
similar to, the hand of Laura B. 26. This caused trouble, for the 
study of the Four Gospels of Karahissar had located it hi the 
thirteenth century. It was too much to suppose that a scribe could 
have written the Athos manuscript in the year 1084, and Leningrad 
105 in the thirteenth century. To find which date was wrong, every 
element involved in the dating of the two codices was carefully 
checked. This led to the study of the date colophon of Laura B. 26. 

A photograph of this important colophon was obtained through 
the courtesy of Mr. George R. Swain of Ann Arbor, Michigan, to 
whom we were referred by Professor Lake. In the following trans- 
scription, the line division of the original is retained. 
Eypa<l)ij 67Ti TTJS j3a<riXei(as) TOV euo-CjSeo-rarou K(CU) ^iXoxptoroy KV(POV) a 
Xeiov fji()y(a)\(ov) SOVKO. (re/i/3aorov TOV KOHVIJVOV CTI er(ous) s 
<fn;P KV(KX&>) (rjKiov) 6 KU(K\W) (aeXT^T/s) IT; cv8(iKTMvos) y 77 airo/cpea 

ia.vova.pua _ 

Xa von(utov) <^a(r/c(a) /t(a)p(riw) KC xp^umavov) 7ra(rx(a) ju(a)p(ri) ny 

) Xs 

The items of date given here are nine in number: (1) in the reign 
of Alexius Comnenus, (2) in the year 6592, equals 1084 A.D., (3) sun 
cycle 9, (4) moon cycle 18, (5) indiction 8, (6) Sunday of abstinence 
from meat January 31, (7) "legal passover" March 25, (8) Christian 
passover (Easter) March 28, (9) fast of the holy apostles 36 days. 

From the tables compiled by V. Gardthausen 3 and the almanacs 
of E. A. Fry, 4 we obtain the following information for the year 
1084 A.D.: sun cycle 12, moon cycle 18, indiction 7, Sunday of 
abstinence from meat February 4, Easter March 31, fast of the 
holy apostles 33 days. The only item in the list that checks with 
our colophon is the moon cycle, obviously a coincidence. But if 
we turn to the year 1445, we find that every one of these items 
checks with the data given in the colophon. This is the nearest 
year to 1084 A.D. in which sun cycle, moon cycle, and indiction 

3 Griechische Palaeographie 2 , II (Leipzig, 1913), pp. 487 ff. 

4 Almanacks for Students of English History (London, 1915), Table 10. 


have the numbers given in Laura B. 26; and hi this year the Easter 
data also agree. A University of Chicago tetraevangelion, MS 136, 
contains an Easter table which gives all of these data for the year 
1445 A.D. 

This suggests at once that the colophon is a fraud, and further 
evidence supports this opinion. For the sake of clarity, all the 
evidence is presented hi categorical form. 

1. The items 3-9 in the colophon do not agree with the year 

2. The items 3-9 agree with the date 1445 A.D. 

3. Out of 141 date colophons written in the llth century, 5 none 
gives any Easter data of any sort. 

4. The earliest use of Easter data hi connection with a date 
colophon that is known to me is hi the Vatican MS, Ottob. Gr. 
381, of 1282 A.D. Easter data occur also hi Brit. Mus. Burney 
MS 21, written in 1292 A.D. by the famous scribe Theodore Hagio- 
petrites. But there the Easter data are given hi a separate section 
below the main colophon, and it should be noted that the fast of 
the apostles is not given. In Patmos MS 192, there is no date 
colophon as such, but the scribe of the marginal comments adds a 
wordy exordium in which he gives the Easter dating hi the years 
1082 and 1109. The fast of the apostles is not given, and VOIUKOV 
iraffxa- is spelled thus. Easter data are given also in a Paris MS. 
Bib. Nat. Gr. 1387, to which they were added by a renovator of 
the manuscript in the year 1388 A.D. These are the only instances 

6 These 141 colophons are found in the following works: H. Omont, Fac-simiUs 
des manuscrits grecs dates de la Bibliotheque nationale du ix* au xiv siecle (Paris, 
1891); V. Gardthausen, Catalogus codicum graecorum Sinaiticorum (Oxford, 1886); 
Kirsopp and Silva Lake, Monumenta palaeographica vetera. First Series: Dated 
Greek Minuscule Manuscripts to the Year 1200 Fasc. I-V (Boston, 1934-1936); 
C. Graux and A. Martin, Facsimile's des manuscrits grecs d'Espagne (Paris, 1890); 
The Palaeographical Society Facsimiles of Manuscripts and Inscriptions, edited 
by E. A. Bond, E. Maunde Thompson, and G. F. Warner, 1st and 2nd Series 
(London, 1873-1894); The New Palaeographical Society Facsimiles of Ancient 
Manuscripts, etc., edited by E. Maunde Thompson, G. F. Warner, F. G. Kenyon, 
and J. P. Gilson, 1st and 2nd Series (London, 1903-1930) ; Franchi de' Cavalieri 
and J. Lietzmann, Specimina codicum graecorum Vaticanorum (Bonn, 1910); 
F. H. A. Scrivener, Collation of About Twenty MSS of the Holy Gospels (Cambridge 
and London, 1853) ; Ibid., An Exact Transcript of the Codex Augiensis (Cambridge 
and London, 1859). Since the total of 141 was established, I have seen many 
more eleventh century colophons, but none with Easter data. 


of the use of Easter data in date colophons observed in a survey 
of about 500 such colophons. 

5. The form of the reference to Alexius Comnenus does not agree 
with that found in date colophons from his reign. I have seen six 
colophons explicitly dated in his reign, and hi each case the formula 
is much simpler than that of Laura B. 26. In three MSS Paris 
Bib. Nat. Suppl. Gr. 482, 1105 A.D., Leningrad Public Library Gr. 
100 (formerly Paris Bib. Nat. Coislin 212), 1111 A.D., and Moscow 
Syn. Typ. Bib. 2479, 1116 A.D. 6 the phrase is M /3a(<riX&os, or 
das) 'AXegiov TOU Kopvyvov. A London codex, Brit. Mus., Harley 
MS 5537, 1087 A.D., agrees with Patmos MS 20, 1081 A.D., and 
with Florence, Laur. Plut. IV. 32, 1092 A.D., in the phrase 
/3a<riXe&c>TOs 'AXe&ov rov Konvrjvov. 

6. The llth century date colophons of any length; that is, those 
that give several items, regularly give the month hi which the MS 
was written. Out of 141 date colophons from this century, 7 116 
give the month, 19 give year and indiction only, 4 give year only, 
2 give year, indiction and reign. Not one of the 141 gives a series 
of date items without giving the month. 8 Yet the month is not 
given hi Laura B. 26. 

7. Our colophon has as its last item "The Fast of the Holy 
Apostles." The ultimate source of all the Easter data here given 
is an Easter table. But Easter tables did not contain this particular 
item until later than the llth century. This is plainly shown by 
Piper's list 9 of nineteen Byzantine Easter tables which reach from 
951 to 1432 A.D. The earliest one to contain the fast of the 
apostles is dated 1286 A.D. It is not included in the Easter data 
given in Ambrosiana MS B. 106 Sup. for the years 1003-1012 and 
1224-1225, nor in the colophon of the Vatican codex, Ottob. Gr. 381, 
dated 1282 A.D. ; nor does it appear with the Easter data of Burney 
MS 21 of 1292 A.D. But each of six tables written between 1354 
and 1432 contains this item, as does the table in University of 
Chicago MS 136, which covers the years 1424-1469. 

6 The last one has minor changes giving the exact year of the reign. Sabas, 
Sperimina palaeographica codicum graecorum et slavonicorum bibliothecae Mosquerws 
synodalis saec. m-xvii. (Moscow, 1863), supplement. 

7 See note 3 above. 

8 There is a possible exception in Escorial MS J2-IV-32, which has a dubious 
colophon in a second hand. 

9 P. Piper, Karls des Grossen Kalendarium und Ostertafeln (Berlin, 1858), p. 134. 


8. Our colophon spells the passover of the "legal passover" 

But Piper points out that it occurs in this form in only four of his 
MSS, dated 1381, 1382, 1394, and 1432. 10 This form occurs also 
in Ottob. Gr. 381, 1282 A.D., in Burney MS 21, 1292 A.D., and 
hi University of Chicago MS 136, 1424 A.D.; but not in Patmos 192, 
1082 A.D. The difference between the llth and the 13th centuries 
hi this spelling is clearly seen in a Milan codex, Ambrosiana B. 106 
Sup. It has an Easter table with the data for each year hi a circu- 
lar frame. Kirsopp and Silva Lake (PL 212) reproduce the last 
12 circles. Of these, the last 2 were originally blank; the 10 originals 
are dated 1003-1012. These all write iraerxa. The last 2 circles 
were filled in for the years 1224-1225; they have 0o<nca. 

9. The colophon hi Laura B. 26 is written hi a different hand 
from that which wrote the MS. The form of the beta, such a 
spelling as ae/xjSao-rou, the fact that the writer of the colophon does 
not follow the ruled lines but meanders; e.g., in the third line, from 
a position on one line he moves up the page until the writing 
depends from the line above and then back to the original level; 
and the general appearance of the hand all clearly show that the 
scribe of the manuscript did not write the colophon. 11 

10. A study of the proportion of uncial to minuscule forms of 
epsilon, eta, lambda, and pi in 111 dated Greek New Testament 
manuscripts established certain general observations of value for 
date. (1) Before 1166, these manuscripts use more minuscule than 
uncial forms of epsilon. In Laura B. 26 uncial epsilons outnumber 
minuscules 112/16 on the first recto of Mark. (2) After 1150, 
these manuscripts always use more uncial than minuscule etas. 
Laura B. 26 uses 47 uncial etas and no minuscules. (3) After 1075 
A.D., these manuscripts use more uncial than minuscule lambdas. 
The Laura manuscript uses 32 uncial lambdas and no minuscules. 
In twenty-six New Testament manuscripts dated in the eleventh 
century the minuscules always outnumber the uncial forms of ep- 
silon, but not in Laura B. 26. 12 

w Op. tit., pp. 135-36. 

11 Lake and Lake hold the same opinion, loc. cit. 

12 For the data on which these generalizations are based and an analysis of 
their significance, see Ernest Cadman Colwell, The Four Gospels of Karahissar: 
Vol. I History and Text, (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1936), 
"Appendix: Some Criteria for Dating Byzantine New Testament Manuscripts." 


11. We have examples of falsification of date of various Greek 
codices. For example, Brit. Mus. Burney MS 20, written in 1285 
A.D., (the very period in which Laura B. 26 was written) had its 
date advanced three centuries to 985 by the erasure of one per- 
pendicular stroke. The original date was s^<?7 (6793 = 1285) ; by 

this erasure it became svqy (6493 = 985). Gardthausen gives 
several examples of Greek manuscripts which were falsely dated 
earlier than the year in which they were written. 18 It should be 
noted that these false dates are almost always several centuries 
earlier than the actual writing of the manuscript. 

Conclusions: These data show that what we have in Laura B. 26 
is a fraudulent colophon written by some one who wished to secure 
an early date for the codex. The suggestion that it may be a copy 
of the original colophon cannot be accepted. 14 A copyist would 
not have missed all the numbers, nor would he have failed to present 
an eleventh century formula. Had he been copying an authentic 
colophon, he would certainly have given us the month. The appeal 
to errors in copying cannot explain the presence of festivals and 
spellings unknown in eleventh century sources. The maker of the 
colophon knew the dates of the reign of Alexius Comnemis, but he 
wrote his date in the style of the thirteenth to fifteenth century, 
not in the style of the eleventh century. Since he had no date 
colophon to copy from, he supplemented his simple year date with 
a line from an Easter table. The line he chose was for the year 
1445. This suggests that the colophon was written within about 
50 years of that date, although this is by no means certain. 18 A 
careful study of iconography and script in Leningrad Gr. 105, 
which is very probably from the same hand as Laura B. 26, located 
that codex in the second half of the thirteenth century. 16 Thus the 
colophon in Laura B. 26, written about two centuries after the 
completion of the codex, is a fraud designed to antedate the manu- 
script several centuries. 

13 Griechische Palaeographie II, 437 ff . 

14 The suggestion that the colophon might be a copy: was to the best of my 
knowledge first advanced by Professor Friend of Princeton. See Edgar J. Good- 
speed, The Rockefeller McCormick New Testament Vol. I Introduction (Chicago, 
1933), p. 15. 

15 Few Easter tables cover more than 50 years. It is most probable that our 
colophonist would chose a line from the future end of his table. 

16 Ernest Cadman Colwell, op. cit,, chapter IV. 


University of Copenhagen 

Some years ago it was decided that among the publications of the 
Monumenta Musicae Byzantinae should be included critical editions, 
provided with musical signs, of the lectionaries of the Byzantine 
Church (Evangelion, Praxapostolos, Prophetologion) and, very for- 
tunately indeed, Professor Kirsopp Lake allowed himself to be per- 
suaded to take part in the direction of this series. The authors of 
the present paper, being at the moment engaged in preparing the 
Old Testament lectionary, see their opportunity to submit to his 
expert criticism some preliminary remarks, suggested by an exami- 
nation of the material now at hand. 


Prophetologion is the current term for the collection of lessons 
drawn from the 0. T. The name indicates the great part played 
by the lessons taken from the prophets, among whom Isaiah is 
prominent, but there are also many lessons from the Octateuch and 
Proverbs and a few from other books of the O. T. The Propheto- 
logion is divided into two main parts. The first contains the les- 
sons read, during Lent, on the first four days of the week at 
matins and at the Missa Praesanctificatorum in the evening. To 
these are prefixed in many MSS lessons for Christmas Eve and 
Epiphany Eve, and they are followed by lessons for Easter Eve and 
five or six other days, the last of which is Saturday before All 
Saints. The second part, beginning usually with Sept. 1st, con- 
tains lessons for some twenty-five fixed feasts. 1 

The Prophetologion has come down to us in about 160 MSS, 2 

1 Some MSS arrange the same lessons in a somewhat different order; v. Rahlfs, 
Die alttestamentlichen Leklionen der griechischen Kirche, Berlin, 1915, p. 31 ff. 

2 To the 153 numbers in Rahlfs' Verzeichnis der griechischen Hss. des Alien 
Teslamenls, Berlin, 1914 (quite a few of which designate rather negligible frag- 
ments) Brooke-McLean (The Old Testament in Greek, I, 4, Cambridge, 1917) 
added four others, but at the same time proposed to exclude two MSS which are 
actually New Testament lectionaries. To these 155 MSS we can add another 
three, viz. Laura 177 and 309 from Mt. Athos, and ton Blateon Nr. 49 from 



not many when compared with the thousands of N. T. lectionaries.' 
This difference may be partly explained by the fact that the 0. T. 
lectionary was not loaded with the mystical significance of the 
Evangelion ("ffo^la 6p6oil") the very presence of which in the 
service meant the presence of our Lord. It is also partly due to 
the fact that the comparatively few 0. T. lessons could easily be 
read from the Menaion and similar books. Such is the usage also 
of the present Greek church and, while the Evangelion has often 
been printed, there is, so far as we know, only one printed edition 
of the Prophetologion. 4 

The MSS date, roughly, from the ninth to the sixteenth centuries. 
It is true that in Rahlfs' list five fragments are ascribed to an earlier 
date. The first of them, now in Sion College, London, has been 
examined by us, and we feel that some details hi the writing point 
to a much later date. We have not yet seen the other fragments, 
but we hesitate to accept their dating without further proof. 

Our knowledge of these MSS is still imperfect. We possess com- 
plete photographs of the most important MSS in Eastern libraries, 
in Rome, and in England, and photographs of selected pages from 
many others. We have thought it justifiable to neglect MSS later 
than the thirteenth century, 5 and tlfought it hardly necessary to 
obtain knowledge of all thirteenth century MSS. We still lack the 
evidence of a certain number of earlier MSS. Some of them, in 

8 The scarcity of extant MSS of the Prophetologion compared to those of the 
N. T. lectionary is not due to extraordinarily great losses, for we find the same 
proportion between the two in the Middle Ages. In Patmos there were, according 
to the catalogue of 1201 published by Ch. Diehl (Bye. Zeitschr. 1, 1892) only two 
Prophetologia among 109 liturgical books the same which are there today. In 
the Renaissance catalogues from South Italian libraries published by Battifol 
(Rtimissche Quartalsschr. 3, p. 31 ff. and L'abbaye de Rossano, p. 120 ff .) we find 
mention of one "Prophetic Greche" among 84 volumes from St. Elia de Carbone 
(Basilicata) ; from San Pietro Spina di Arena (Calabria) eleven "libri nominati 
evangelistari" and three "piezi de libri de profecia." In the very copious cata- 
logue of San Salvatore not a single Prophetologion is listed, and Bessarion's Cata- 
logue of Grottaferrata (A.D. 1462) mentions nine Evangelaria and only three 

4 Legrand, Bibliographic HelUnique desXV et XVI * si&cles, II, p. 122, mentions as 
Nr. 216, 'AvayvwffTtKbv, printed A.D. 1595-6, which includes a complete New Testa- 
ment lectionary and the 0. T. lessons for Christmas, Epiphany and Easter. 

6 We have examined some pages of two of these late MSS (Flor. Plut. X, 27 
and Leningrad 550); the result was what might be expected, viz. progressive 

Cod. Flor. IX, 15 (fol. ?) 

3rd lesson for Friday of 6th Week of Lent 

(Prov. 24, 76-77; 29, 26 ff.) 


not many when compared with the thousands of N. T. lectionaries. 3 
This difference may be partly explained by the fact that the O. T. 
lectionary was not loaded with the mystical significance of the 
Evangelion ("<ro<j>ia 6pdoil") the very presence of which in the 
service meant the presence of our Lord. It is also partly due to 
the fact that the comparatively few 0. T. lessons could easily be 
read from the Menaion and similar books. Such is the usage also 
of the present Greek church and, while the Evangelion has often 
been printed, there is, so far as we know, only one printed edition 
of the Prophetologion. 4 

The MSS date, roughly, from the ninth to the sixteenth centuries. 
It is true that in Rahlfs' list five fragments are ascribed to an earlier 
date. The first of them, now in Sion College, London, has been 
examined by us, and we feel that some details in the writing point 
to a much later date. We have not yet seen the other fragments, 
but we hesitate to accept their dating without further proof. 

Our knowledge of these MSS is still imperfect. We possess com- 
plete photographs of the most important MSS in Eastern libraries, 
in Rome, and in England, and photographs of selected pages from 
many others. We have thought it justifiable to neglect MSS later 
than the thirteenth century, 6 and thought it hardly necessary to 
obtain knowledge of all thirteenth century MSS. We still lack the 
evidence of a certain number of earlier MSS. Some of them, in 

3 The scarcity of extant MSS of the Prophetologion compared to those of the 
N. T. lectionary is not due to extraordinarily great losses, for we find the same 
proportion between the two in the Middle Ages. In Patmos there were, according 
to the catalogue of 1201 published by Ch. Diehl (Byz. Zeitschr. 1, 1892) only two 
Prophetologia among 109 liturgical books the same which are there today. In 
the Renaissance catalogues from South Italian libraries published by Battifol 
(Romissche Quartalsschr. 3, p. 31 ff. and L'abbaye de Rossano, p. 120 ff.) we find 
mention of one "Prophetie Greche" among 84 volumes from St. Elia de Carbone 
(Basilicata) ; from San Pietro Spina di Arena (Calabria) eleven "libri nominati 
evangelistari" and three "piezi de libri de profecia." In the very copious cata- 
logue of San Salvatore not a single Prophetologion is listed, and Bessarion's Cata- 
logue of Grottaferrata (A.D. 1462) mentions nine Evangelaria and only three 

4 Legrand, Bibliographic Hellenique des XV s et XVI e siecles, II, p. 122, mentions as 
Nr. 216, 'AvayvucrTLKov, printed A.D. 1595-6, which includes a complete New Testa- 
ment lectionary and the 0. T. lessons for Christmas, Epiphany and Easter. 

5 We have examined some pages of two of these late MSS (Flor. Plut. X, 27 
and Leningrad 550); the result was what might be expected, viz. progressive 

Cod. Flor. IX, 15 (fol. ?) 

3rd lesson for Friday of 6th Week of Lent 

(Prov. 24, 76-77; 29, 26 ff.) 


Eastern libraries, will probably not be available for our edition; 
but we hope to obtain the necessary material from Messina, Lenin- 
grad and Paris. 

In spite of these facts, we think it improbable that further evi- 
dence will overthrow the main principles established by our exami- 
nation of over sixty MSS. 

The first impression of MSS of the Prophetologion is a very 
marked uniformity. In the first place, we may draw attention to 
the identical choice of texts for the lessons and then* almost identical 
distribution throughout the movable as well as the fixed year. The 
lessons are also, when necessary, adapted to the needs of the lectio 
solemnis in a uniform manner; hi some cases by prefixing the 
formula tv rcus rjnepais e/ceipais or ra5e Xe7 Kvpios, in others by slight 
changes of the original text, such as furcv HXtas TU EXtacraie where the 
original text runs K<H uircv aurw HXtas (Regn. 4, 2, 6). A more exten- 
sive adaptation is found in the third lesson of Ascension (Zachariah). 
The prefatory colon (raSe Xeyei Kvpios) is followed by tSov wcpa 
epxerai Kvpiov (Zach. 14, 1), apparently chosen as a parallel to another 
lesson, drawn from Jeremiah 38, 31 (ra5e Xe7ei Kvpios' idov ijucptu 
epxovreu). Verse 4 follows, 5-7 are omitted, and the lectio con- 
tinua proceeds from verse 8. This adaptation is found in all but 
one of our MSS. 

Still more striking is the uniformity when a lesson is a veritable 
cento made up of verses separated in the original text. Examples 
are the lesson which is read in memoriam of the death of different 
Saints, e.g. on November 13, January 1, and January 25, made up 
of verses from Prov., Eccl., Sap., and Sir., or that from Jeremiah 
read on Thursday of Holy Week. 6a 

No less obvious is the uniformity of the liturgical instructions, 
which are much fuller here than in the Evangelia and Praxapostoloi. 
They are of varying explicitness in different MSS, but always reflect 
essentially one and the same form of service. The irpoKflneva and 
ffrlxoi quoted are nearly always identical. In the instructions re- 
garding the functions of the clergy, noticeable difference might be 
expected corresponding to local traditions and the rank of the 
ecclesiastical dignitaries ministerhig in the different churches and 
monasteries. To a very small extent this is indeed the case. But 
we must be careful not to draw too hasty conclusions from these 

Ba For further references, vide Rahlfs, Die alttestamenttichen Lektionen der 
griechischen Kirche, Berlin, 1915. 


sporadic anomala. For example, the first time the Patriarch is 
mentioned in a Saba MS, a statement of the functions of the Patri- 
arch of Jerusalem during the ceremonies in the Church of Anastasis 
might be expected. But in MSS originating from churches where 
no Patriarch was expected to participate in the rites, exactly the 
same instructions are found. Finally, in one MS these very 
prescriptions are found, combined with mention of the churches 
of Constantinople (xaXfcewrpaTew, jSXax^ppcu) or of the jSacnXefa him- 
self. 6 Here is the clew. The Patriarch mentioned hi the first 
Saba MS and hi so many others is not the Patriarch of Jerusalem 
but of Constantinople. In other words, the liturgical instructions 
in the Prophetologia are from books destined for the use of the 
patriarchal church of Constantinople. 7 In some cases they may 
have been borrowed from the Constantinopolitan Typikon itself, 8 
in others they may have been transcribed from a Prophetologion 
meant for use in the Hagia Sophia. Which explanation is preferable 
in this or that case is still an open question, and it seems necessary 
to make allowance for both possibilities, since the tradition of the 
liturgical instructions seems hi some MSS to be independent of 
that of the lessons themselves. 

8 Among the instructions for the feast of the euo/yYeXurjuos March 25th in Cod. 
Ox. Laud. 36, f. 253 ff. is found: KOLL /(era T-QV TpiToeKT-qv TIJS ncy 
avepxereu Trpoava/yvcoffjua KCU xaflef erat o Trarpiapx^s irlwjfftov TJJS 07105 
as TOV Bpovov as TO aptorepop KIOVI (sic) K<U airepxeToi SICLKOVOS ets TO 
KCU </>6pei TO euo77Xu>J' ot Ti0et OUTO ev rt\ 0710 Tpewref i\ KO.I ore fflaffii o 
eepXTai o Trarpiapx^s KOI VITO.VTO. OUTCO KO.I eKrepxerot ew TO 6vffio.ffTi\piov 
KO.I irpoffnvvei. o j8o<7tX6us ev Tt\ 0710 Tpewref?; TO eua77Xtoj' /cat KTTOTOI eis TO 
dcl-ia TOV BvffiaffTepwv tts TO. ayia Bvpia /cat Xe76t o SIOLKOVOS irpos TOV TraTpiapxi??' 
v\oj6L deffTTOTa, Kai Xeyei o TrarptapXTjs' fvXoyrmfvr] ij jSatrtXeta, /cat o SiaKovos 
fvxnv ffwairTi)v /cat (K<t>uvci o TraTptapx^s /cat OUTWS 01 \l/a\Tai &> TW apfiuvt, 
apxovT<u TI\V \eiTovpyiav. Cf. Const. Porphyr. de Ceremon. I, 30. In Cod. 
Patmos 210 we read among the instructions following the seventh lesson of 
Epiphany: wrtov de OTL eav fitf viroffTp&f/i] o vaTptapx^ *K TOV TraXoTiou, ai'a7t'- 
co<7KTai TeTay^vov avasyvciMTna, fj 7V<rcws. Cf. Dmitrievski, Opisanie liturg. 
rukopisej, I, TUTTWCO, Kieff, 1896, p. 40 (Cod. Patm. 266) and p. 158 (Cod. Pant- 
eleemonos [Mt. Athos] 252). 

7 This explanation is confirmed by the fact that characteristic liturgical pecu- 
liarities known on Mt. Athos (P. Meyer, Die Haupturkunden zur Geschichte der 
Athoskloster, Leipzig, 1894, p. 131 ff.) or in South Italy (Didionnaire de la Bible, 
I. 2, p. 2481) do not appear at the proper places hi the Prophetologia. 

8 Codex A 8 4, at the end of Epiphany, refers the reader to TO 



Some of the most distinctive features of the Constantinopolitan 
rites, e.g. the mention of the Emperor, have been passed over in 
the majority of copies as being of no use outside Constantinople; 
but on the whole, the scrupulous scribes have taken over all the 
material which was useful for the anagnostes in the Great Church, 
even in copies destined for monasteries and churches, small or great, 
everywhere within the Eastern Church. This fact seems certain; 
for, hi quite a number of cases, we know the origin and even the 
further history of our MSS. 9 

All this is not surprising when the overwhelming influence of the 
Constantinopolitan Church is remembered, an influence of which 
the Typika published by Dimitrievsky and by Papadopoulos-Kera- 
meus also give evidence. Even MSS from Sinai bear testimony of 
the hegemony of the City of the Emperor 10 and it is significant 
that the best copy of the Constantinopolitan Typikon we possess, 
is found in the Monastery of St. John on the island of Patmos 
(Vlad. 266), where it has apparently been hi use for centuries. 

Finally, the uniformity of the tradition can be proved by a glance 
at the wording of the lessons. But we will keep this topic for the 
third part of our paper and first discuss the possibility of grouping 
the MSS on palaeographical evidence. 


Many of our MSS have in common a series of palaeographical 
characteristics and may be said, from this point of view, to belong 
to one type. They are written on good and clean parchment in 
two columns embellished by carefully drawn initials 11 with fine 
ornamental lines marking the niinor divisions and more elaborate 

9 As curious examples of the wanderings of the MSS may be mentioned Codex 
Oxon. Laudianus 36, which gives very exhaustive rubrica especially destined for 
the Hagia Sophia and was used in the Metropolitan church of Ephesus (v. the sub- 
scription in Coxe's catalogue) and Codex Leningrad 217, which, according to 
the subscription, was written in a monastery in Bithynia, and was later in the 
possession of the monastery of St. Saba in Palestine. 

10 V. Baumstark in Oriens Christianus, 3. ser., vol. 2, 1927, p. 16. 

11 Characteristic are and E, drawn with concentric lines with the help of 
compass, and partly filled up with geometrical and botanical ornamentation. 
Zoomorphic initials are very rare in Prophetologia, but wherever they appear 
in MSS of this group they show the elaborate and often witty elegance which J. 
Ebersolt (La miniature grecque ad pi. 54) admires in MSS originating from Con- 


designs at the beginning of the larger sections. It may be noted, 
however, that the splendid miniatures found in so many Evangelia 
are usually lacking in the Prophetologia. The writing as well as 
the ornamentation is distinguished by careful workmanship, and 
the generally correct orthography proves that the scribes, by a good 
training, were well prepared to face even the dangers of itacism. 
Finally, the MSS of this group are provided with ecphonetic nota- 
tion 12 written in the same red ink as the rubrics. 

Most of the Prophetologia preserved hi the libraries of the Near 
East and Russia belong to this type. So do the majority of the 
MSS found in the libraries of Western Europe. In the Italian 
libraries, on the other hand, they are extremely rare. 18 If we take 
into consideration the fact that the special references to the rites 
of the Constantinopolitan Church (/3a<riAeta,|SXax^pvai,xaA/tt>7rpaTeia) 
are found in the most elaborate MSS of this type and remember 
the predominant influence of Constantinople mentioned in the first 
paragraph, it seems natural to suppose that this particular type 
had its centre in the capital and that it spread from there all over 
the Eastern Church and was imitated, with more or less success, 
in the provincial scriptoria. Therefore we suggest that this type 
be called the C-type. 

Another group can be singled out, chiefly because it lacks most 
of the outstanding features of the C-type. The codices of this 
group are written on parchment of inferior quality, a great many 
being palimpsests. Most of them are devoid of all ornament and 
their initials are rather simple and often clumsy. The writing is 
usually narrow, stiff and lacks the elegance and formal perfection of 
the C-type. In the rubrica a yellow wash is often employed to 
bring into relief things of importance. 14 They are generally written 

12 So far as we know, among this group only the majuscule MS, Leningrad 
51, is devoid of musical signs. It also shows other peculiarites. As for some 
ancient fragments (chiefly palimpsests) we must suspend our judgment; all we 
can state now is that in Codex Monac. Graecus 262, which we, thanks to the 
liberality of the Chief Librarian, have been able to examine in Copenhagen, the 
presence of the reXa is easily recognizable. Further statements are precluded 
by the exceptionally bad state of conservation of this palimpsest. In the frag- 
ment Sion College 1, 1 no traces of notation can be discerned. 

13 Of the Codices kept in Italian libraries none but Marc. 13 and Vat. Gr. 423 
seem to belong to this type. 

14 Cf. e.g. Cavalieri-Lietzmann pi. 31 (facsimile from Vat. Ottobon. Gr. 344 
written at Otranto A.D. 1177). 


in one column and ecphonetic notation. Their orthography 
is usually bad, and they lack the attractive, sometimes even luxuri- 
ous appearance of the C-type. 

MSS of this second group are found hi the Italian libraries, espe- 
cially in the Vatican and hi Grottaferrata. This fact suggests their 
origin: they may come from the Basilean monasteries of South 

Scholars who wish to study the palaeography of that part of the 
Greek world have exceptionally good opportunities. Many years 
ago, after the not quite successful attempt of Gardthausen, Batt- 
ifol, 16 by tracing back the history of the MSS of the Vatican, 
succeeded hi identifying codices written in the scriptoria of Rossano 
and other places hi Calabria and these investigations were extended 
by Kirsopp Lake. 18 On the other hand, the admirable publications 
of E. A. Lowe 17 provide rich material for comparison with the 
Latin palaeography of the same zone. In the light of these re- 
searches we can come to fairly clear and definite conclusions as to 
the home of the second group. 

We suggest subdividing this group and keeping three tenth cen- 
tury MSS apart from some twenty others, dating from the twelfth 
century onward; for, although the chief characteristics remain, the 
type has, of course, changed and developed hi the course of two 
hundred years or more. 

By a happy chance, one MS of each of these groups is ascribed 
to South Italy expressis verbis. In Vat. Reg. 75, 18 a subscription 
reads . . . eypafa eis TO MoXjStro KT\. 19 and, according to a historical 
note on the last page, 19a the MS must have been written hi Calabria 
shortly before 983. In Vat. 770, a part of which is still in Grotta- 
ferrata (A 8 6 20 ), a subscription by the monk Makarios indicates the 
date (between 1273 and 1281) and the provenance (Grottaferrata). 

16 Battifol, La Vaticane de Paul HI a Paul V, Paris, 1890, and L'abbaye de 
Rossano, Paris, 1891. 

"Kirsopp Lake, "The Greek Monasteries in South Italy," in Journal of 
Theolog. Studies, 4, 1903 and 5, 1904. 

17 E. A. Lowe, The Beneventan Script, Oxford, 1914, and Scriptura Beneventana. 

18 Cavalieri-Lietzmann pi. 16. 

19 V. Battifol, L'abbaye de Rossano, p. 87 and 156; Lake, 1. laud. 4, 525. 
19a V. Stevenson, Catalogue, p. 60. 

20 This was observed by Rocchi, in De Coenobio Cryptoferratensi, p. 258. In 
his catalogue he had erroneously attributed A 8 6 to Johannes Rossanensis. For 
the subscription v. Battifol, L'abbaye de Rossano, p. 93 and 159. 


Before endeavoring to classify other manuscripts with these two 
leading ones, some further characteristics, in addition to the palaeo- 
graphical features mentioned above, are to be noted. In Reg. 75 
the incipits of the lessons very frequently differ from those in MSS 
of the C-type, the scribe prefixing cv rats ^/iepois e/cetrats or raSe 
\676i KS in many cases where these formulas are absent in C, and 
vice versa. Furthermore, this codex contains three special lessons 
for the yowK\t.ffla. at Whitsuntide, 200 a feature lacking in C-MSS. 
On the other hand Cod. Vat. 770 + A 8 6 adds to the norm of 
Constantinople lessons for several special feasts celebrated in Grotta- 
ferrata, for example for the birthdays of the abbots Nilus and 
Bartholomaeus and for the dedication of the church of Grotta- 
ferrata. 20b 

Cod. Grottaferrata A52 (tenth century) ascribed by Rocchi 208 
to the Italo-Greek type may be compared to Reg. 75. Written hi 
one column, with stiff and clumsy letters and crude initials, it con- 
tains nearly all the characteristics mentioned above. It gives the 
same lessons ds yovvK\uriav as Reg. 75 and, according to Rocchi's 
Catalogue, p. 39, it has a lesson from the Canticum Canticorum 
for Easter Saturday. No lesson from this book occurs in any 
Prophetologion of the C-type. 

The group of older manuscripts of the Italian type is completed 
by cod. Flor. Plut. IX, 15, a manuscript the placing of which, owing 
to some quite peculiar features, has caused considerable difficulty. 
It certainly differs from the C-type, for it is written in one column 
and has no musical notation. The opening formulae, such as &> 
rats 7/juepcus e/ceipcus, abound and it has the lessons els yovvK\uriav 
found in Reg. 75 and A 5 2. On the other hand, its type of writing, 
although akin to that of finer minuscule MSS of the tenth century, 
such as that of Johannes Sinaites 20d , seems singular among Pro- 
phetologia, as do the crude initials and especially some zoomorphic 
ones. It is from these that we hope to have succeeded in locating 
the origin of this curious MS. The division of the ornamental 
initials into sections, characteristic of this MS, is familiar hi Bene- 
ventan MSS. 20e In fact, there is a C on plate 14 and an E on plate 

20a V. Goar, Euchologium, 1730, p. 604-6. 

20b V. Rocchi's catalogue, p. 45. 

20c De CoenoUo Cryptoferratensi, Tusculo, 1903, p. 275. 

20d Reproduced by V. BeneSevifi, Monumenta Sinaitica II, p. 42. 

20e V. E. A. Lowe, Scriptura Beneventana ad pi. 9. 


33 of Scriptura Beneventana which are exactly like the correspond- 
ing letters hi our Florentine MS. Still more is this the case with 
the zoomorphic initials. We have found birds, horses, mice, lions 
and fantastic beasts of completely Beneventan character, with the 
protruding tongues observed by Lowe ad pi. 9 and elsewhere, and 
this tongue sometimes extends and develops into leaves, as on pi. 18 
of Scriptura Beneventana. Finally, having compared cod. Flor. 
with facsimiles of the Evangelion (Vat. 2138) m written in Capua, 
in A.D. 991, and finding much similarity hi the writing as well as 
in the initials and in the peculiar, thick marks of punctuation, we 
do not hesitate to add it to the little group of older Italian MSS. 21 

As to the younger MSS of this group, the Italian origin of Codex 
Cryptensis A 54 is clear, from the characteristics mentioned, as 
well as from its contents and provenance. It was written, according 
to Padre Rocchi, 22 by Johannes Rossanensis. We assume that this 
hypothesis is based upon comparison of the writing with codices 
like Grottaferrata B /3 3 which are known to have been written 
by Johannes Rossanensis. In any case, this MS contains so many 
lessons for special use at Grottaferrata that there can be no doubt 
as to its origin. 

Being assured by independent evidence of the Italian origin of 
so many single members of this group, we hardly run any risk hi 
ascribing the whole of it to this region. 221 * Among its MSS, Barb. 
391 and 446 so closely resemble each other hi content and outward 
appearance that they may be supposed to come from the same 

Two remarks in conclusion: (a) of course some MSS of this type 
are found hi libraries outside Italy. For example, we assume that 
Cod. London 11841 came from there, as well as Leningrad 325, 
which is a part of Jerusalem Staurou 48. The writing of the latter, 

20f Pal. Soc. II series, pi. 87, Cavalieri-Lietzmann pi. 17. 

21 Things would be considerably easier if Bandini had been right in finding in a 
very intricate subscription the dating of this MS (A.D. 964). This date is not 
improbable in itself, but we cannot find that Bandini has explained this mysterious 
scribble in a convincing way. Perhaps it is, according to the suggestion of Pro- 
fessors Gre"goire and Adont of Brussels, Armenian! Even if this should be the 
case, a South Italian provenance is not excluded. 

22 Codices Cryptenses p. 41 and De Coenobio Cryptoferr. p. 39. 

* e.g. the MSS Vat. Gr. 1842, 1860, 2298, Barb. 338, 346, 391, 446 and Grotta- 
ferrata A 8 1. 


down to the slightest details, so perfectly resembles that of Barb. 
391 and 446 that we cannot but suppose that it reached Jerusalem 
in some unknown way from Italy, (b) As is well known, e.g. 
from cod. Patmos 33, 28 people hi Italy were also able, hi some 
places, to write manuscripts of the Constantinopolitan type. The 
Grottaferrata MSS A 5 3, A 8 5, A 5 9, show a certain tendency 
toward the C-type and thus deviate, more or less, from the Italian 
.characteristics which we have tried to sum up hi this chapter. 


We now come to the most interesting, but also the most diffi- 
cult, part of our task: the criticism of the text. 2 * We find it neces- 
sary to start by eliminating from the examination the little group 
of old South-Italian MSS (Flor. Plut. IX, 15, Vat. Reg. 75, Crypt. 
A 8 2). They are separated from the bulk of the Prophetologion 
MSS by textual not less than by palaeographical features. Codex 
Flor. and Cod. Reg. especially represent a form of text entirely 
different from the rest of the tradition, as may be seen in the 
variants found hi the tenth lesson for Epiphany (Jud. 6, 36-40) : 

&> rcus 7/juepais 

Kvais praef. Flor. om. cett. 

6, 36 : naOcos Flor. ov rpoirov cett. 

37: TiOijiM Flor., Reg. a7repet5ojucu cett. 

TOV epiov Flor., Reg. TWV epiuv cett. 

eav de Flor., Reg. /cat eav cett. 

23 On this MS (Greg. Naz.) written in Reggio A.D. 941, v. Sakkelion's Catalogue 
and Kirsopp and Silva Lake, Dated Greek Minuscule Manuscripts, Fasc. I, p. 14, 
plates 28-34. 

24 Very little attention has been as yet paid to the text of the Prophetologion. 
In the edition of Holmes-Parsons only the readings of Cod. Ox. Laud. 36 are 
partly recorded. This same MS is the sole representative of the Lectionaries in 
the edition of Brooke-McLean (Symbol: d2). Rahlfs, who in his epoch-making 
book, Die alttestamentlichen Lektionen der griechischen Kirche, Berlin, 1915, 
directed the attention of the learned world to the Prophetologion, knew only a 
few MSS of this kind. In his Septuagintastudien he relies chiefly on Steininger's 
edition of Codex S. Simeonis (at Trier). Nevertheless the few remarks hi Septua- 
gintastudien, 3, p. 96 ff. are highly suggestive. The printed text of the old Menaia 
(Pinelli) is not very interesting. The text seems akin to that found hi the Cod. 
Crypt. A 5 2. The Editio Romana of the Menaia, Triodion and Pentekostarion 
follows the Pinelli text with correction only of the misprints. 


down to the slightest details, so perfectly resembles that of Barb. 
391 and 446 that we cannot but suppose that it reached Jerusalem 
in some unknown way from Italy, (b) As is well known, e.g. 
from cod. Patmos 33, 23 people in Italy were also able, in some 
places, to write manuscripts of the Constantinopolitan type. The 
Grottaferrata MSS A 8 3, A 5 5, A 8 9, show a certain tendency 
toward the C-type and thus deviate, more or less, from the Italian 
.characteristics which we have tried to sum up in this chapter. 


We now come to the most interesting, but also the most diffi- 
cult, part of our task: the criticism of the text. 24 We find it neces- 
sary to start by eliminating from the examination the little group 
of old South-Italian MSS (Flor. Plut. IX, 15, Vat. Reg. 75, Crypt. 
A 5 2). They are separated from the bulk of the Prophetologion 
MSS by textual not less than by palaeographical features. Codex 
Flor. and Cod. Reg. especially represent a form of text entirely 
different from the rest of the tradition, as may be seen in the 
variants found in the tenth lesson for Epiphany (Jud. 6, 36-40) : 

cv rais 

praef. Flor. om. cett. 

6, 36 : Ka0cos Flor. ov rpoirov cett. 

37: Tidrjfj.1 Flor., Reg. a7repeiSo/*cu cett. 

TOV epiou Flor., Reg. TWV epiuv cett. 

eai> 8e Flor., Reg. /cat eav cett. 

23 On this MS (Greg. Naz.) written in Reggio A.D. 941, v. Sakkelion's Catalogue 
and Kirsopp and Silva Lake, Dated Greek Minuscule Manuscripts, Fasc. I, p. 14, 
plates 28-34. 

24 Very little attention has been as yet paid to the text of the Prophetologion. 
In the edition of Holmes-Parsons only the readings of Cod. Ox. Laud. 36 are 
partly recorded. This same MS is the sole representative of the Lectionaries in 
the edition of Brooke-McLean (Symbol: d2). Rahlfs, who in his epoch-making 
book, Die alttestamentlichen Lektionen der griechischen Kirche, Berlin, 1915, 
directed the attention of the learned world to the Prophetologion, knew only a 
few MSS of this kind. In his Septuagintastudien he relies chiefly on Steininger's 
edition of Codex S. Simeonis (at Trier). Nevertheless the few remarks in Septua- 
gintastudien, 3, p. 96 ff . are highly suggestive. The printed text of the old Menaia 
(Pinelli) is not very interesting. The text seems akin to that found in the Cod. 
Crypt. A 6 2. The Editio Romana of the Menaia, Triodion and Pentekostarion 
follows the Pinelli text with correction only of the misprints. 



lli fill 



W^ W. '<' W\ Ek -M P V TJ 











KCU em Flor., Reg. CTTI 5c cett. 

yvwff 0^0.1 Flor., Crypt. KCU yvucronat cett. 

/ca0cos Flor., Keg. ov rpoirov cett. 

38: opQpurcv Flor. opOpuras cett. 

KOU een-ia(rei' Flor., Reg. ewreTriac'ej' cett. 

tarofav Flor., Reg. aireppvr) cett. 


39: M>? Si) Flor., Reg. /MJ cett. 

KCU 76 > rw TTOKOJ Flor., Reg. &> TGI TOKO) cett. 

KCU 7j>ecT0co Flor., Reg. ywqOriTO) Sri cett. 

KCU 7Ti Flor., Reg. TU 5e cett. 

I yevriQriTti) Spocros Flor. Spocros cett. 
\76P60-0w dpoffos Reg. 

40: KCU eirt Flor., Reg. eiri 5e cett. 

N. B. Crjrpt. om. per haplogr. 39 /cat ein iraffav 40 TTOKOV ftovov 

Codex Crypt. A 5 2 is a very carelessly written MS and, although 
to a lesser degree than Flor. and Reg., it deviates frequently from 
the text of the C-type and shows a strong tendency towards the 
form represented by these two MSS. For example, hi the famous 
Christmas prophecy, Is. 9, 6, iraidiov fyfpvridij ijp.iv KCU vios edodrj rjntv 
is read in nearly all lectionaries; but Flor. Reg. and Crypt, read 
vios /cai fSodrj; in the Daniel-prophecy, read on Christmas Eve, the 
reading of the bulk of the lectionaries is aire<rxi<rO'n \i6os airo opovs 
(2. 34) (Cod. Blateon 49 has aireffiraffdrj) but Flor., Reg. and Crypt, 
agree hi airernridr] Xiflos euro (e Flor.) opovs. The opening formula 
of the first lesson of the Benediction of the Waters at Epiphany 
TaSe Xe7 Kvptos is omitted in Flor. and Crypt, only; in the same 
lesson (Is. 35. 10) where it is said, according to the ordinary text, 
that the redeemed will come to Sion "per' ev^poffvvrfs K<H <x7aXXi- 
anaros", the last two words are lacking hi Flor. and Crypt. These 
few examples, typical as they are, may serve as illustrations for our 
thesis that the three old South-Italian MSS must be discarded hi 
an examination of the typical Byzantine Prophetologion. Thus 
we are left with MSS 1 chiefly of the C-type, which, as we have 
shown above, centred hi Constantinople. It has already been 
stated that one outstanding feature of this chief group is the fact 
that it is furnished with musical notation. Here we shall for a 
moment insist upon this fact from a special point of view. The 
aim of these signs is to make clear to the anagnostai the correct 



manner of reciting the holy texts during service. They are applied 
with surprising uniformity in all MSS to divisions which are also 
indicated by punctuation both in these MSS and in those without 
notation. Thus, the notation may be considered, to a certain 
degree, as a more refined method of punctuation, and can serve 
as a very useful instrument for bringing out the sense of words and 
constructions which otherwise, owing to the peculiar character of 
the Septuagint, might often have remained unintelligible. 

It has been explained elsewhere 26 that there were often two or 
more possibilities in applying the ecphonetic notation to the cola 
given; but there is, down to the minute details, a striking uniformity 
in this use. This shows that during centuries some strong and 
conservative influence, emanating from one centre, was exercised 
upon our MSS. This active centre cannot be sought but hi the 
religious heart of the Empire. It will be useful to keep in- mind 
this conception of Constantinople as the seat of a strong and con- 
servative tradition about the reading and writing of holy texts. 

By these preliminary considerations we have prepared the way 
for a closer examination of what rightly may be called the text of 
the Byzantine Prophetologion. The first general impression is a 
great uniformity in the MS tradition. On the background of the 
general instability of the Septuagint tradition, it is indeed surprising 
to find long lessons with practically no variants in the MSS. For 
example, in ten MSS in the two rather long lessons for Wednesday 
of the week rrjs rvpo<f>&yov, taken from Joel (2, 12-26; 4, 12-21), 
we have found no variants at all in the first lesson; in the second, 
only two of little importance and two or three purely scribal 
errors in single MSS. In the apparatus of Rahlfs' small edition 
31 variants are mentioned for these texts, and there are, of 
course, many more in Holmes-Parsons. 

In order to illustrate this uniformity we have selected some 
significant passages, where the Prophetologion-tradition stands firm 
in spite of the instability of the rest of the tradition. 

Gen. 1, 11: First lesson of Christmas: 

ou TO (TTrepjua aurou 
& avru Kara yevos 

26 V. Carsten Hoeg, La notation ekphonttique (Mon. Mus. Byz. Subs. 1) Copen- 
hagen, 1935, p. 109 ff. 




7?s A-*-, 55, 131, 134; 
Kara yevos eis OJLI] 
as Ojuotorjjra Kara 
76WS alii: om. Kara 
76WS A, alii: om. 
s o/iotoTT/ra 19, 108, 
75, alii: na.6' ojuotorr/ra 
15,52,57,59,82: alii alia 


Num. 24, 7: 

Kat wI/wdijffCTtu vj 

/SatrtXeta aurou Kat 

<rerat 77 /3a<rtXeta aurou 

A, | om. r7 15, 53, 56, 

59, 72, 82, alii | om. aurou 1 HB 129, 

134, 509 | Kat av^drjfffra.1 77 j3a<r part. 

sup. ras. 82"- 1 om. 77 

jdatrtXeta aurou 55, 72, 

120, 121 alii | alii alia 

Second lesson of Christmas: 


/SatriXeia aurou /cat 

au^r/o-erat S 

Mich. 5, 1 : 

Kat au BTj^Xceju OIKOS 


et A pier. | om. rou B multi | ni\ 
o\iyoffTos et 22, 26, 36, 
49, 51, 61, 62, 86, 87, 91, 95, 
97, 106, 114, 147, 185, 228, 238, 
239, 240, 310. 

Is. 35, 7: 

auXeis KaXajuou Kat e\rj 
BA pier. | 7rauXets KaXajuou] 
7rauXts KaXa/iou Q, 24, 41, 
alii: cTrauXts irowviuv 8, 49: 
7rauX(e)is <rapT]vuv Kat KaXajuou 93 
cirauX(e)ts aapiivuv Kat KaXajuot 

Third lesson of Christmas: 

Kat ffv 
OIKOS rou e<f>pa.6a 

First lesson of Benediction of 
the Waters (Epiphany) : 

Kat KaXajuot 


22, 36, 48, 51, 62, 90, 147, 233, 302, 
308: alii alia. 

The stability of the Prophetologion tradition may further be illus- 
trated by some examples showing the uniformity even of details 
which, for special reasons, were strongly exposed to alteration. 

In the lesson from Proverbs for Friday of the first week of Lent 
(Prov. 3, 19 ff.) the great majority of 0. T. MSS have wo. fij<rij y 
\fwxn <rov; only three have iva rj at\ \l/., viz. 109, 147 and 252. Now 
this latter reading most certainly was, for phonetic and palaeo- 
graphical reasons, emphatically the lectio difficilior, especially as 
the formula fr y ^vxn <*ov occurs hi other places in Prophetologion 
texts (e.g. Regn. 4, 2, 6). Nevertheless, it has resisted hi a most 
astonishing way all these dangers and the influence from ordinary 
Biblical tradition and is found in all but one of the Prophetologia 
we know. This example also shows how the ecphonetic notation 
helps to fix the tradition. In our MSS an ecphonetic neume marks 
an incision after fr as well as after ^/vxn. The only MS (Lenin- 
grad 51) giving the reading of the ordinary Biblical tradition lacks 
ecphonetic notation. 

Another instance of this conservative tendency, and a rather 
startling one, is found in the second lesson for Christmas. The 
ordinary text (Num. 24, 16) runs 01 KaTapupevoi (re KtKa.Trjpa.vTai. In 
some of our MSS the last word is written with a trivial orthographic 
error as KaiKaT-qpavTai. Now the really amazing thing is that under 
the first syllable of this word whether written with <u or with e 
we find in almost all the MSS the ecphonetic sign called synemba 
which normally is applied to the conjunction KO.I when intro- 
ducing short clausulae. 26 Under the verbal form KfKaTijpavTai it is 
quite out of place. This testimony cannot be questioned : the 
anagnostai hi the tenth century when reciting this lesson all com- 
mitted the same howler! One might also expect to find, in many 
places, fluctuation between Kupios o 0eos and o Kuptos and o 0eos, but 
as a matter of fact, our MSS generally agree even in such details. 
We may now proceed to state that, in addition to the general 
agreement of the MSS in single readings, there are obvious uniform 
characteristics within the individual lessons. Often, too, the same 
impression is given when different lessons taken from the same 
book are compared and perhaps even, although to a less degree, 

26 V. Carsten Hoeg, ibid., p. 58. 


throughout the Prophetologion as a whole. As instances of the 
first point may be mentioned: 

(a) In the last lesson for the second week of Lent from Genesis 
(5, 24-6, 8) the ages of the patriarchs are given in a normalized 
form throughout, the substantive cry preceding the hundreds, tens 
and units of years, e.g. Methusalah lived "erri cvvanoffia t^Kovra 
cvvea," while the other tradition of the 0. T. shows at this point 
all imaginable variations and combinations. 

(b) In the great Easter pericope from Dan. 3, 1-51 the frequently 
repeated cola, rr) &.K.OVI TIJ xP Vffl Q "n corjjae, and rris (frwvqs TIJS <7aX7ri77os 
ffvpiyyos TC KCU Kidapas (rajujSu/ci/s re KCU \l/a\rripiov nat auju^wjaas, as well 
as the asyndetic colon made up of the names of the three TreuSes 
are given again and again in identical words. 

(c) Hebrew names and words are given in the same form through- 
out each lesson, e.g. MWO-J/S (not Mwwnjs); the three ireuSes about 
whom we have just spoken (Dan. 3, 51) are called throughout 
SeSpax, Mwax and A/SSevo/yw; the prophet Elisha is always called 
EXi(r(reue and in Regn. Ill, 18, 32 and 36, the Hebrew n^yn is 
rendered as 0aXaa in all our MSS. 

As to our second point (uniformity throughout greater parts of 
the book) it is not possible to give definite statements before we 
have much more comprehensive material than is now at our dis- 
posal. But we feel fairly certain that some common stylistic fea- 
tures, although perhaps only of a superficial character, will turn 
up in the majority of lessons, for example, the lessons read during 
Lent from Isaiah, Genesis and Proverbs respectively. 

The third point (uniformity of the Prophetologion as a whole) 
must for the present receive still more vague intimations, but we 
may mention that in all the lessons so far collated from different 
parts of the book, we have found the greatest care in the applica- 
tion of v tyc\itvffTiK6i> and a general avoidance of Hellenistic forms 
such as Xi^ojuai and tf\0oo-av. Furthermore, the observation above 
about the Hebrew names seems to hold good for the overwhelming 
majority of lessons. On the whole we have the impression that, 
among the various readings offered by the multiform Septuagint 
tradition, the Prophetologion aims at giving the plainest and most 
intelligible forms. 

The uniformity of which we have spoken is, however, stronger 
within individual lessons than throughout the book. In the first 
place, we may draw attention to the curious fact that sometimes 



the same text, when transmitted in two parts of the book, presents 
two forms which, although uniform hi each lesson, are quite different 
from each other. This is not true in all cases where a section is 
repeated, but it is very conspicuous, e. g., in two lessons drawn from 
Joshua (5, 10-15). The first is the sixth lesson for Easter Satur- 
day, the second (5, 13-15) is the first lesson for November 8th. 
In the first column below we give the readings from the text for 
Easter Saturday (Lesson a), in the second those from that for 
November 8th (Lesson b), in the third those from the tradition 
outside the Prophetologion: 

Lesson a:* Lesson b 

5, 13: fyavtvra avOpwirov "2 fyavevra om. S 

Other tradition: 

pon<f>aia avrov S 

avrov om. S -f- 1 

hab. 19, 
108, 38, 58, 426. 

avrov hab. F, 19, 
108, 38, 44, 53, 58, 
72, 85, 106, 120, 
121, 134, 426: om. 

5, 14 : TTfffdiV IljffOVS S 

avrov avrov om. S 

S ireffcw Irjcrovs 19, 
108, 426: ITJO-OUS 
irffffv plerique : alii 

auTou hab. F, M, 
19, 108, 426, alii 
multi: om. A, B, 
N, alii multi. 

. om. S irpoffenvv. hab. 19, 
108, 426: KCU vpoff- 

* In this and in the following tables the old uncial MSS are designated by the 
generally accepted symbols (or in some cases as veteres), the minuscule MSS by the 
figures adopted by Holmes, Parsons and Rahlfs. In quotations from Rahlfs, 
indicates the reconstructed Origin-recension, L the Lucianic, Lag is the symbol 
for the recension printed in Lagarde's edition, Prophetologion MSS are indicated 
by easily recognizable abbreviations of their shelf-marks. The symbol S indicates 
consensus of the MSS available. -f- 1 (2, etc.) means dissensus of one or 
more MSS. 



Lesson a: 

5, 15 Xwrot 


< OV ffV 

Kas 6ir' aurov 

(pOSt effTiv) KCLi 

eiroiijff&> Iijffovs 
ovrcos add. 2! 

Lesson b Other tradition: 

CKVV. F, alii multi: 
alii alia: om. A, B, 

\vffov2 \vffat. B, 19, 108, 

plerique: \v<rov A, 
A 8 , 52, 55, 57, 72, 
120, 121. 

' w plerique: ' 
ov A 8 , 52, 58 | eir' 
aimo 120, 29: evr' 
avrov nulli: r' 
aurou A, alii: om. 
B, alii. 

om. 2 /cat fTroiijcrfv lyvovs 

OUTWS add. F, 19, 
108, 38, 44, 54, 55, 
58, 75, 106, 120, 
134, 426 Curz. 66, 
85 mB> : om. A, B, 

Secondly, as already observed by Rahlfs (Septuagintastudien 3, 
p. 47) the prophet Elijah, who hi the majority of lessons is called 
HXtas, in two peiicopes (and perhaps hi more) is always called HXiov. 
Both forms are carried through with almost absolute consistency 
within the respective lessons. In a later paragraph we shall en- 
deavor to show that this difference in the form of the name reflects 
different recensions. 

Finally, the constant tendency towards uniformity is shown hi 
two passages where, curiously enough, it has led to corrections in- 
serted in a group of MSS. In the older Codices of the O. T., 
Lot is almost unanimously called the brother of Abraham, and 
that is what we also find hi the Prophetologion (the first lesson of 
Sunday before Pentecost, Gen. 14, 14 and 16). Now, although our 
material is here far from being complete, it cannot be due to mere 
chance that in four MSS later correctors have substituted a8e\<j>idovs 
for a8e\<os in both places. (The corrector of Athen. 20, however, hi 
verse 16 substitutes TowtovTova6f\<f>ov). This reading is supported 
by a few O. T. MSS: aSeX^iSous is the reading of 44, 106, 53, 426, 
while 75 hi verse 14, has ow^ios (with cod. 54) but hi verse 16 
agrees with 72 hi reading vtov TOV 


Even more relentlessly, this same correcting spirit seems to have 
invaded the incipit of the third lesson for Thursday in the first 
week of Lent (Prov. 3, 1). In the seven MSS of the C-type, 
which we have collated so far (and hi Vat. Gr. 1842) the two 
middle letters of the word voiupuv are erased; thus the sentence 
runs: vie, epuv PO/UOP /M? eiri\av6avov in agreement with Codd. 68, 
161, 248, 253, 297. 


It is now time to pose the question: can this uniform text of the 
majority of our Prophetologion MSS be identified with one of the 
recensions otherwise known? It is difficult to answer this question 
because the critics of the Bible have not succeeded hi identifying, 
with full certainty, the text as given by extant MSS, with any one 
of the three famous recensions known to us in literary tradition, 
viz. those of Origen, Lucian and Hesychius. 

For obvious reasons the famous words of St. Jerome, the wide- 
spread opinion about the predominant r61e of the Lucianic recen- 
sion hi the Eastern Church, the results of modern researches we 
must concentrate our attention on the recension regarded by 
modern scholars as Lucianic. Some minuscule MSS were singled 
out by Ceriani and Field as giving this text because of then 1 frequent 
agreement with 0. T. quotations in the Antiochian fathers and 
with some marginal notes in the syro-hexapla version of Paulus 
from Telia. 27 

Lagarde was the first to attempt a reconstruction "in gravioribus 
satis fidam" of the Lucianic recension of the Octateuch. Following 
his path, A. Rahlfs endeavored to enlarge and complete his work 
by laborious investigations, the results of which are laid down in 
several papers and editions. 

Lagarde based his reconstruction chiefly on codices 19, 82, 93 
and 108, already pointed out by Ceriani and Field. Unfortunately, 
his edition cannot be regarded as a sufficiently exact instrument, 
since no particulars are given about the readings of the single MSS; 
furthermore Rahlfs affirms that the MSS mentioned do not pre- 
serve a pure - Lucianic text. His own methods and views may 
profitably be studied in his great edition of the Psalter (Got- 
tingen 1931). 

27 V. Field, Originis Hexapla, I, Prolegomena, p. 84 ff . 


.Z-i^tV"? JaPM-pi* 

^^liaSE^^- ^^r^r^-/- jjfcfr ^ 


f , ^^4 -i.Jr ^ *^*U 

Cod. Saba 247, fol. 75v. 
Monday of Holy Week 
1st lesson (Ez. 1, 1 ff.) 


Even more relentlessly, this same correcting spirit seems to have 
invaded the incipit of the third lesson for Thursday in the first 
week of Lent (Prov. 3, 1). In the seven MSS of the C-type, 
which we have collated so far (and in Vat. Gr. 1842) the two 
middle letters of the word vomnuv are erased; thus the sentence 
runs: uie, ejuj> POJUCOV M ejn\a.v6avov in agreement with Codd. 68, 
161, 248, 253, 297. 


It is now time to pose the question : can this uniform text of the 
majority of our Prophetologion MSS be identified with one of the 
recensions otherwise known? It is difficult to answer this question 
because the critics of the Bible have not succeeded in identifying, 
with full certainty, the text as given by extant MSS, with any one 
of the three famous recensions known to us in literary tradition, 
viz. those of Origen, Lucian and Hesychius. 

For obvious reasons the famous words of St. Jerome, the wide- 
spread opinion about the predominant r61e of the Lucianic recen- 
sion in the Eastern Church, the results of modern researches we 
must concentrate our attention on the recension regarded by 
modern scholars as Lucianic. Some minuscule MSS were singled 
out by Ceriani and Field as giving this text because of their frequent 
agreement with 0. T. quotations in the Antiochian fathers and 
with some marginal notes in the syro-hexapla version of Paulus 
from Telia. 27 

Lagarde was the first to attempt a reconstruction "in gravioribus 
satis fidam" of the Lucianic recension of the Octateuch. Following 
his path, A. Rahlfs endeavored to enlarge and complete his work 
by laborious investigations, the results of which are laid down in 
several papers and editions. 

Lagarde based his reconstruction chiefly on codices 19, 82, 93 
and 108, already pointed out by Ceriani and Field. Unfortunately, 
his edition cannot be regarded as a sufficiently exact instrument, 
since no particulars are given about the readings of the single MSS; 
furthermore Rahlfs affirms that the MSS mentioned do not pre- 
serve a pure Lucianic text. His own methods and views may 
profitably be studied in his great edition of the Psalter (Go't- 
tingen 1931). 

27 V. Field, Originis Hexapla, I, Prolegomena, p. 84 ff. 

JUK.CU. afcifaa Vftt > 

_ ^ ^r^. ^^ ^^ 


rBsf o ft c 

**//' x 
i^^ 610 

^HG pj^ndDOUJ^CUIW^Opci^ 

Cod. Saba 247, fol. 75v. 
Monday of Holy Week 
1st lesson (Ez. 1, 1 ff.) 


Now the Psalter, being a book destined primarily for liturgical 
use, has a tradition quite different from that of the rest of the 0. T. 
and can hi this respect be compared with the Prophetologia. Like 
these, and for the same obvious reasons, it exists in a normalized 
form hi a great number of Byzantine MSS. Rahlfs, with 
high probability, identifies this normal form of the psalter with the 
Lucianic recension. In the criticism of the other books of the 
0. T. Rahlfs, owing to the difference hi tradition, was faced with 
problems of much greater difficulty. He has set forth his researches 
concerning Kingdoms in detail hi Septuagintastudien 3, where he 
concludes that "die Gruppe 82 93 ist der Gruppe 19 108 sowohl 
nach der inneren Wahrscheinlichkeit ihrer Lesarten wie nach der 
ausseren Bezeugung ihrer Lesarten durch . . . Lucifer und die Lek- 
tionare weit iiberlegen." 28 Accordingly, hi the apparatus criticus 
of his Handausgdbe (Stuttgart, 1935), he bases the reconstruction 
of the Lucianic text of Kingdoms, Chronicles, Ezra and Judith, 
primarily on these four MSS, hi so far as the respective books are 
contained in them. The value, however, of each of these codices 
as a witness to the Lucianic recension, varies, according to Rahlfs, 
in different books and even hi different sections of the same book. 
In Judges, the principal witnesses are Codices 54, 59, 75 and 314. 
For Isaiah, the minor Prophets, Daniel and Susanna, the chief 
witnesses are 22, 48 and 51. For Genesis, ample information is 
given hi the separate edition of 1926, hi the preface of which Cod. 75 
enjoys the doubtful honor of alone representing the recension of 
Lucian, supported but weakly by the "lukianische Nebengruppe" 
(44, 106, 54 and 134). So its symbol is printed in the appendices hi 
italics although he admits that "der Lukiantext hi 75 auf keinen Fall 
rein erhalten ist" (Prolegomena, p. 28) ! This result of the laborious 
reconstruction of the recension which is said to have dominated the 
Eastern Church cannot but surprise us. We cannot help suspecting 
that these reconstructions, improbable per se, are the consequence 
of an excess of method, and that this method involves in itself a 
somewhat inadequate conception of the way hi which the Bible 

28 The devaluation of the group 109, 108 was started by E. Hautsch, Der Luki- 
antext des Octateuch (Gott. Nachr. 1909, p. 518 ff.). He gives a detailed comparison 
of the readings of these MSS with the 0. T. quotations hi Theodoret and Chrysos- 
tom. We have not the competence to retrace this comparison; moreover, for 
the purpose of this paper, it is irrelevant to discuss which MS comes nearest to 
the quotations of the Antiochian Fathers. 


was transmitted. RahhV reconstruction in the first fascicule of 
his Septuagintastudien of the ancestry of Codex 82 illustrates the 
results to which a mechanical process of deriving extant MSS from 
a supposed pure archetype can lead. Starting from the observation 
that this codex offers a text contaminated by Lucianic readings, 
distributed in an irregular way through the whole MS, and of 
readings which cannot be regarded as Lucianic, he arrives at the 
conclusion that the scribe has copied a defective Lucianic MS and 
filled up the gaps from a MS alien to that recension. Then, by a 
calculation of the intervals separating the Lucianic readings, he 
tries to define the size of the quaternions of the supposed Vorlage 
and makes the loss of some of these responsible for the "non- 
Lucianic" sections. But at last he is bound to admit that Lucianic 
readings are found also in the parts for which the quaternions, 
according to his hypothesis, were lost. This is explained away by 
the new hypothesis that the quaternions, the loss of which was 
supposed, nevertheless partly existed and that the scribe himself 
made a mixture by using the remains of the quaternions which 
had fallen out, along with the other non-Lucianic MS! 

This short survey may show readers to whom this subject is not 
familiar what intense study has been devoted by eminent scholars 
to the "Lucianic problem," and also how difficult it is to get a clear 
and definite idea of this recension, which seems to slip away when- 
ever you clutch at it. But these researches have brought into 
relief the special character of an important branch of the Septuagint 
tradition and it is evident that they must be taken as a basis for 
any attempt to elucidate the problem of the textual history of an 
O. T. text during the Byzantine age. 

Although we have not as yet been able to carry out exhaustive 
researches in that direction, we have, when comparing the tradi- 
tion of the Prophetologion with that of the ordinary O. T. tradi- 
tion in many cases come across the very MSS upon which the 
Lucianic experts have concentrated their attention. Perhaps some 
of our readers have already received the same impression from 
some of the passages quoted in the preceding paragraphs, e.g.: 

(1) The scheme on p. 204 (Jos. 5, 13 ff.) shows a close resemblance 
between the text of Lesson a and that of codd. 19, 108 and Br. 
Mus. Curz. 66. 

(2) The formula used in the enumeration of the ages of the 



Patriarchs (Gen. 5, p. 203 above) occurs in the same form in codd. 
15, 19, 44, 53, 54, 58, 106, 129, 134 and 314, although not with 
absolute consistency. Cod. 75, on the other hand, has another 
formula in the majority of cases. 

These agreements, appearing in passages quoted for other pur- 
poses, are not fortuitous and it would be easy to gather hundreds 
of the same land. But it will be more instructive, we think, to 
set forth in detail all the relevant readings from a few lessons, 
together with the parallels from the ordinary 0. T. tradition. Our 
first example is from a pericope drawn from Isaiah, the second lesson 
for Ascension. As a basis for comparison we have taken Rahlfs' 
Handausgdbe. The symbol L here indicates the following codices: 
22, (36), 48, 51 (62, 93, 147) ; the Handausgabe does not give particu- 
lars as to the readings of each of these MSS, but it does not seem 
advisable to replace Rahlfs' indications by the more explicit but 
less reliable ones of Holmes-Parson. Only hi some cases have we 
added to Rahlfs' apparatus some particularly interesting statements 
taken from Holmes-Parson. 

62, 10: 

62, 11: 

Lectionary Tradition 
(from 9 MSS) 

(post iropfvfffdf) 
irfpif\8a.TC add. 

(post T<av irv\<av 
/iou) ffKfva.aa.TC TT/JV 
o8ov add. S 
(post oSoTTOMjc-are) 
oSoKoiriffaTf add. S 
o ffwtjp ffov S 

irapayeyovcv S 

Other Tradition 
(from Rahlfs and Holmes-Parson) 

7TpieX0iTe add. L; om. cett. 

<rKfva.ffa.Tc TI\V oSov add. L: 
om. cett. 

63, 1; 


O.VTOV add. S 

(post cpyov) avrov 

add. S 

(post OToXij) avrov 

add. 2 

add. L (in sub 
><): om. cett. 

O ffti)T1]p ffOV L (?): O ffUTIJp 

ffot B, C, alii : <roi o awrrjp cett. B, Q, S 00 "-, L: 

TrapayivfTai cett. 

fj.fT' O.VTOV add. L (in sub 

x ) : om. cett. 

O.VTOV add. B, S, L : om. cett. 

auTov add. L (in sub *) : 
om. cett. 



63, 3: 

f63, 3-6 
63, 7: 


Lectionary Tradition . Other Tradition 

j8ia plerique: |9oa 86, 106, 
144, 308 

juera urxvos TroXXTjs 62, 90, 93, 
106, 308: om. -rroXXijo- cett. 
Tr\i}povs S, L, C; ir\i)piis cett. 
XT/J^O^ ejraTtjffa /iwcoraros 48, 
49, 51, 62, 90, 106, 109, 144, 
198"*, 228 m -, 302, 305, 308, 
309: om. cett. 


S -5- 1 


/uoworaros add. S 


(post operas Kvpiov) 
avanvrjffti), rt\v 
Kvpiov add. S 



add. 2 


om. 2 

(POSt TKVO) Kttl 

add. S -v- 1 


aiveffw Kvpiov add. Q""*- 
sub -x , 22, 23, 36, 48, 51, 
62, 90, 93, 144, 147, 228-, 
233, 308: om. plerique. 
en irafftv 22, 36, 48, 51, 62, 
90, 93, 147, 233, 308: & 
iraffiv cett. 
e<m add. L: om. cett. 

om. plerique : hab. S, L. 

KO.L add. L: om. cett. 

Our second example is from the 11 th lesson of Epiphany, = Regn. 
3, 18, 30-39: 

Other Tradition 
(from Brooke-McLean and 

Lectionary Tradition 
(11 MSS) 



3, 18, 32 : TOUS \i6ovs /cat 2) 


K<LT' apiOfjiov ruv Sudcua <jv\uv 
19, 108, 82, 93, 127, 246, 
489, (Lag.) : om. cett. 
TOUS Xi0<ws K<U 82, 127, 135, 
Lucifer (Lag.) : TOUS Xi0ous ev 
Kvpiov /ecu cett. 



3, 18, 32: 

Lectionary Tradition 
Kvpiov 2) 

Other Tradition 


3, 18, 33: 
3, 18, 34 

XOtpovv 2) 4- 1 
(init.) : CH^M 2) 
dvo vdpias 

Kvpiov 19, 108, 
82, 93, 127, 246, 554 Lucifer 
(Lag.) : om. Kvpiov cett. 
0aXaa 19, 108, 158, 554: 
0a\aav 44, 106, 107, 246: 
daaXa 82, 93, Theodoret. 
(Lag.): 8a\a<rffav cett. (cf. 
Rahlfs' Septuagintastud. 3, 

xcopow 19, 108, 93, 127 
(Lag.) : xupovaa.v cett. 
eTrefljjKe 19, 108, 93, 127, 246 
(Lag.) : e<rroi|3a<re cett. 
Svo vSpias 19, 108, 82, 93, 
127, 246 (Lag.): re<r<rapas 
vdpias cett. 

The third example is from the third lesson for Thursday of the 
second week of Lent. 


6, 6: 

Lectionary Tradition 
(32 MSS) 


6, 7: 

fiif virapxovTos OUTCO S -5-4 

e/tTropeuercu 2) 

re KOI iduarat 1! 

re 2! 

Other Tradition 
(from Rahlfs and Holmes-Parson) 

(103), 109, 253, 296: 
vett. cett. 

23, 252: au^rj vett. 

t<r0t B*, S, A-, 23, 103, 
109, 147, 157, 252; i0t A*, 

Jj * v*tyUv* 

etSws 109, 147, 157, 252, 297: 

i8uv vett. cett. 

M wirapxovTOS aurw 23, 

161 m -, 252: om. aurw vett. 


oo oero. 

ejuTTopeuerai Zo, ZoZ: Troieirai 

vett. cett. 

/3a<nXeis re /cat iStcorai 23, 

(103), 109, 157, 252, 253, 

295; om. re vett. cett. 

Trodewr] re 252: iroBeun] Se 





Lectionary Tradition 

Other Tradition 


oKvrjpe S 

6, 11: eira Trapaywcrai vot S 


6, 15: 

8ta 5e TOUTO S 

ws Trore 23, 103, 252, 253, 
297: ws TW/OS vett., cett. 
w o/cMjpe 23, 252, 254, 296: 
om. w vett., cett. 
6ira7rapa7ti'6r<u<roi23, (103), 
106, 109, 252"*-, 254, 295, 
296, 297: eir' enirapayiverai 
ffoi. vett., cett. 
KO.KOS avqp A, 23, 68, 
161"*-, 248, 252, 253, 260: 
KCIKOS Spoufvs B, 8, cett. 
<m>Xias 23, 161 ro -, 252 m -: 
OVK ayaBas vett., plerique. 
Sta 8e TOVTO A, B rr , S rr , 23, 
252, 253, 296: om. & vett., 

Kap5ia23, 109, 147, 157, 252, 
295: /cat /capita vett., cett. 
Trovrjpovs 252: KOKOUS cett. 
ffTTtvSovTfs 252 : em<rirevdovT& 
vett., plerique. 
to\o8p6v6i]ffovT<u 23, 68, 109 
om. cett. 

The first two examples show on the whole striking coincidences with 
the Lucianic text as reconstructed by Lagarde and Rahlfs respec- 
tively, but also some differences from the very MSS upon which 
these reconstructions are based: no one of them is in complete 
agreement with the Prophetologion text. 

Our third example has a somewhat different character, being 
selected from a book, the Proverbs, which has not yet been treated 
by scholars specially interested in the Lucianic recension. We have 
had to content ourselves with the indications found in the venerable 
work of Holmes-Parson. A marked feature in this third table is 
the strong resemblance of our MSS to a group of which codd. V 
(109) and 252 are the best representatives. Only once does V offer 
a variant not found in our tradition, cod. 252 never. The same 
relation is found in the other lessons drawn from Proverbs: where 
V, 109 and 252 group together, they always agree with our MSS; 
V has some peculiar variants, cod. 252 hardly any. Cod. 252 

6, 18: Kapdia 2 


ffvevSovres S 

6, 19: (post KdKOTroieiv) eoAo- 


(Flor. Laur. Plut. VIII 27, tenth century) contains only Job, Prov., 
Eccl., and Cant. Lessons from Eccl. and from the Cant, do not 
exist in the Prophetologion (with the exception mentioned above) 
and for Job we have not yet made collations permitting a detailed 
comparison. V*, on the contrary, is a very full MS and can be 
used also for other books hi the Prophetologion. 

We find in Gen. and Is. agreements of our text with V (among 
which readings a certain number are "hi margine sub asterisco") 
but also quite a few differences. It is perhaps not without interest 
in this connection to note the peculiar character of these two 
MSS. 29 Cod. 252 according to Parson (Praefatio ad Job) has 
"omnia grandioribus litteHs <mxw>s exarata," and of V he says 
(ibid) "Libri Job ea pars quae hi Codice superest ... hi parva dis- 
pescitur membra, sive versiculos; sed ea divisio hullo modo respondet 
versibus quibus vulgo uti solemus." Perhaps also the fact that 
this MS apparently did not contain the Psalter may be regarded 
as a hint in the same direction; it may be that both these MSS 
were intended for liturgical use. If this suggestion is correct, they 
may perhaps be regarded as representing the tradition which was 
at the bottom of our Prophetologion. 

But we must leave this particular question to further examina- 
tion and here content ourselves with summing up the general con- 
clusions we have reached. The stock of Prophetologion texts bears 
a close resemblance to the tradition found hi MSS regarded as 
Lucianic, but not always to the same ones. If, however, one lesson 
is related to one particular group of Lucianic MSS, other lessons 
drawn from the same book, especially if intended for the same part 
of the ecclesiastical year, are almost certain to show the same rela- 
tionship. For the moment, we cannot give details; it should, how- 
ever, be said, that in Kings (as in other books) the agreements 
with 19 and 108 are more frequent than with 82 and 93, 29 * and 
that differences from cod. 75, particularly in Genesis, are far from 
being rare. Finally, the lesson from Proverbs may teach us that 
among MSS not regarded as Lucianic it is possible to find close 
connections with the text of the Prophetologion. 

* V is now divided in two parts, of which one ( = Holmes-Parsons 23) is kept 
in Venice (= Marc, l) another in Rome (= Vat. Gr 2106); it dates from the 
eighth century. 

29 It is worth while to bear in mind the high value given by Lagarde (Anmer- 
kungen zur griech. Ubersetzung d. Proverbien, Leipzig, 1863) to these very few MSS, 
as giving a correct rendering of the Hebrew text. 

29a Rahlfs, however, in Sepiuagintastudien, 3, p. 79, affirms that 19 and 108 
in Kings are less "Lucianic" than the other two. 


When mentioning the two forms of the name of the prophet 
Elijah (HXias and HXww) found in different lessons, we hinted at 
the fact that traces of recensions, different from that discussed 
in the preceding paragraph, appear at some points. This is shown 
also in the two parallel lessons from Joshua, the variants of which 
are given on p. 204. The variants hi the third column of that table 
show clearly that the o-lesson belongs to the stock, viz. to the 
recension related to Lucianic tradition. An equally clear state- 
ment is hardly possible for the text of the Wesson. It is, through- 
out, in agreement with the great majority of 0. T. MSS (contra 
Luc. as well as B). 

We come to more definite results if we follow the hint given by 
the form HXiov and examine the text of the few lessons in which it 
dominates. Indeed, the variants tabulated below are sufficiently 
eloquent. They are taken from the first lesson for the Feast of 
Elijah (July 20th, Kings. Ill, 17, 8-24) which occurs also (in a 
shorter form) as the eighth lesson for Easter-Saturday. In the 
first column the reader will find the readings of both lessons; 
wherever they disagree a indicates the lesson for Easter, b for July 
20th. In the column reserved for the other tradition, special atten- 
tion is paid to the "Lucianic" MSS, 19, 108, 82, 93. As stated 
above, Elijah is called HXiou throughout, in accordance with the 
bulk of 0. T. tradition; HXias is the uniform reading of 19, 108, 
82, 93: 

Lectionary Tradition Other Tradition 

3, 17, 8: (post PWO) \cywv "2 \eyuv hab. A, Syr.-x-: om. 

19, 108, cett. 
3, 17, 9: Tropes S TTopcu^rt A, 121, 247, Chry- 

sost. : iropevov cett. 

Sape<0a S Sap00a 106, 119, 243, 372, 

554*, Josephus, Chrys. f : 
SapeTTTa 19, 108, cett. 
TTJS SiSwwas S TTJS StSwws 108, 127, 246, 

489: T. SiSwwas cett. 

(post SiSconas) /cat /cat Kadrjffft CKCI A, 52, 92, 246, 

em S 314, 489,|767: om. 19, 108, 

82 plerique. 

Cod. Saba 247, fol. 123v. 
Sunday after Whitsuntide (Is. 43, 9-14) 


When mentioning the two forms of the name of the prophet 
Elijah (HXtas and HXtou) found in different lessons, we hinted at 
the fact that traces of recensions, different from that discussed 
in the preceding paragraph, appear at some points. This is shown 
also in the two parallel lessons from Joshua, the variants of which 
are given on p. 204. The variants in the third column of that table 
show clearly that the a-lesson belongs to the stock, viz. to the 
recension related to Lucianic tradition. An equally clear state- 
ment is hardly possible for the text of the Wesson. It is, through- 
out, in agreement with the great majority of 0. T. MSS (contra 
Luc. as well as B). 

We come to more definite results if we follow the hint given by 
the form HXtou and examine the text of the few lessons in which it 
dominates. Indeed, the variants tabulated below are sufficiently 
eloquent. They are taken from the first lesson for the Feast of 
Elijah (July 20th, Kings. Ill, 17, 8-24) which occurs also (in a 
shorter form) as the eighth lesson for Easter-Saturday. In the 
first column the reader will find the readings of both lessons; 
wherever they disagree a indicates the lesson for Easter, 6 for July 
20th. In the column reserved for the other tradition, special atten- 
tion is paid to the "Lucianic" MSS, 19, 108, 82, 93. As stated 
above, Elijah is called HXtou throughout, in accordance with the 
bulk of 0. T. tradition; HXtas is the uniform reading of 19, 108, 
82, 93: 

Ledionary Tradition Other Tradition 


3, 17, 8: (post pw&) XeYcoj' S Xeycov hab. A, Syr.-x-: om. 

19, 108, cett. 
3, 17, 9: TTopeverjTt. I, iropcv9r)Ti, A, 121, 247, Chry- 

sost. : iropevov cett. 

2ape<0a 2 2ape00a 106, 119, 243, 372, 

554*8, Josephus, Chrys. f: 
2ape7TTa 19, 108, cett. 
TT?S SiSwnas 2 TIJS 2t5coj/os 108, 127, 246, 

489: T. 2idwvias cett. 

(post StSawas) /cat /cat /ca^cret'Wet A, 52, 92, 246, 

em 2 314, 489,|767: om. 19, 108, 

82 plerique. 


. > Y v -" : 

r -r^* *-, 


t/ K W f/ 

** i' '^ <- * - -t ~ ' 

:v-. '' ';."- -..* : v. 


.?- V . 

o ^K 'TO fc<|> ^p jiv 

/j^W&Mtir -^ : -^--- - 
k .--y ; -iiJfers^^ 

. fv'?->^.. 
- -w- . . 
,"3 ^ ;, ' - 

) * '- 



v , --.f-^^T^T^^Tf ^fl- :-;. 

' : 'i^f.'^tV; i.\ ' "' -. .J-..-- ' ' ' 

4R^^r;**;;>> " , ,-." ^J^: .: 
-.-?rt'..-j.y-' > v ,-.. ^.-t.-^r .-* 

?P5 V 

^&^*MiA*^*5Ei&. > "^-" ;;t; w' 3 -l -i.-^-' 


sw 1 


:. '"^^ 
.' Jijl-' . -. 

:- r Y.-VV-;- 

... r 

; ' ; ^w:>^ i ^ r ^'^ 

>'""'' \r ;a - - "^v , .'.: >< ^' r -.- 

; ^ .. W ".. -: .. '. 

Cod. Saba 2-17, fol. 123v. 
Sunday after Whitsuntide (Is. 43, 9-14) 



3, 17, 10: 

3, 17, 11: 


Lectionary Tradition 

KCU eporjffev HXtou 
OTTKTCO auT?js S . 

avrri S 

3, 17, 12: av\\cy<a S 

3, 17, 13 : KOI 

3, 17, 14: 

a S 

HXiov ?rpos 

Kuptos o 0eos Iffpai}\ 
S (TOU loyjaqX 6, 

(pOSt 67Tt) TTpOOXOTTOi; 

S (-7rov 6, unus) 
TJS 7175 S 

(post C7roM7<rej') Kara 
TO pT/jua HXtou 2 


Kat eftorjarev HXtas OTTKTCO avr?7s 
246: teat e^otjfftv OTTKTW aurqs 
HX(e)iou cett. (HXtas 19, 108, 
93, 127). 

auT?; plerique: eiTrei' 
HXtas (19), 108, 82, 93, 
127, 246, 7r>B, A, 243, 245. 
<ruXX67 B, A, 247 Syr., 
Ghrys. : eyu <ruXX7&> 19, 108, 

<j>ayofjic9a avro A, Syr. : om. 
19, 108, cett. 
/cat enrev HXeioi; Trpos avrijv 

A, Syr. : /cat ftirev avrt} HXtas 
19, 108, 82, 93, 127 : *ai &.TM 
irpos avrrjv HX(e)tou cett. 
Kuptos o deos Iaparj\ A, Syr., f> <' 
multi: Kvpios B, N, 19, 108, 
82, multi. 

TrpoffUTTov A, Syr. , x irpffowirov 

127: om. cett. 

TTOOTJS TIJS 7775 nullus : TIJS 7?s 

B, A, N, multi: TT/J/ 7i7i 19, 
108, 92, 106, multi. 

Kara TO prj/xa rjXtou A, Syr., 

x 121, 127,246,247:om.B, 


Kat edunev avru 19, 108, multi: 

om. B, A, Syr., 127, cett. 

/cat a?ro TT;S yuepas Tavrrjs A, 

Syr.-x-, 127-x- : om. cett. 

(post HXtou) 

eScoKev avTto om. 2 

(post auT^s) Kat a?ro 

TT;S Tj/tepas TauTi/s S 
The result seems clear: our text varies from the "Lucianic" tradi- 
tion as well as from B and has a clear affinity to the group A + 
Syr.,-x- that is to say the group regarded by Rahlfs and others as 

At the end of our examination it will be instructive to return 
for a moment to the Italian group eliminated above. The expert 
will have gathered already from the specimens quoted above 
that this text is in agreement with that of Codex B and that it 


is almost as remote as possible from the norm of the C-type, 
although coincidences with special C-type readings are not entirely 
lacking. If we remember that Battifol (La Vaticana, p. 82) sug- 
gests that Codex B was brought to Rome from South Italy by 
Bessarion, we may perhaps risk the suggestion that the B-recension 
was in liturgical use there at a certain period during the Middle Ages. 

We may now turn our special attention to the iroiwXia, which 
are not entirely lacking in our MSS. First we may mention that 
wherever the MSS differ from each other, the variants are almost 
always to be found in some MSS of the ordinary type. This asser- 
tion cannot, of course, be proved hi a short paper. The reader must 
accept it bona fide. We think that a clear idea of the appearance 
of variants within our MSS may best be gathered from a table of 
those found in one lesson and we have selected for the purpose the 
second lesson for Friday of the first week of Lent.* 

Gen. 2,20: O/UHOS avrco: cett. 

KO.T' avrov: Ox. Bar. 99. 

2, 23: hab. avrrj cett. 
fin. om. i\ Vat. 770. 

2, 24: (post /wjTepa) om. avrov: Leningr. 217, 550; Vat. Gr. 
768; Barb. 346; Par. Gr. 272, 275, 372; Ox. Bar. 99, 
Ox. Seld. 32. Hab. avrov: Ath. 20; Saba 98, 147, 
247; Blateon 49; Leningr. 51, 218; Crypt. A 5 1, 
AS 3, AS 5, A 5 9; Marc. 13; Vat. Gr. 770, 1842; 
Barb. 338, 391, 446; Par. Gr. 243, 273; Br. Mus. 
36,660; Ox. Laud. 36. 

2, 24: (post ywauta) om. avrov: Ath. 20; Blateon 49; Saba 98, 
247; Leningr. 51, 218; Crypt. A 5 5, A 3 9; Vat. Gr. 
768, 770; Barb. 346; Marc. 13; Par. Gr. 243; Ox. 
Bar. 99, Ox. Seld. 32, Ox. Laud. 36. Hab. avrov: 
Saba 147, Leningr. 217, 550; Crypt. A 5 1, A 5 3; 
Barb. 338, 391, 446; Par. Gr. 272, 273, 275, 372; Br. 
Mus. 36,660: Vat. 1842 legi nequit. 

2, 25: yvpvoii cett. o/iou: Leningr. 550. 

* The readings of Flor. X 27, Reg. 75 and Crypt. A 2 are neglected: Flor. IX 
15 does not contain this lesson: there remain 30 MSS. 


3, 1: ^popijttcoraros TTO.VTUV', cett. 

0povtjua>raros airo TTCLVTUV: Ath. 20 (del. corr.) Saba 98, 
247; Leningr. 218. 

3, 2: TOV tv TU irapaoeiffw: Ath. 20; Saba 98, 147, 247; Len- 
ingr. 218, 550; Crypt. A 81, A 8 3; Vat. Gr. 768, 
770, 1842; Barb. 346; Par. Gr. 275; Br. Mus. 
36,660; Ox. Bar. 99. 

TOV irapaSfiffov. Blateon 49; Leningr. 51, 217; Crypt. 
A 55, A 6 9; Barb. 338, 391, 446; Marc. 13; Par. 
Gr. 243, 272, 273, 372; Ox. Laud. 36 (hiat. Ox. 
Seld. 32). 

3, 3: 0071776 : Leningr. 550; Marc. 13; Barb. 338, 391, 446; 

Par. Gr. 272, 372; Ox. Laud. 36. 
fayijffde: Ath. 20; Blateon 49; Saba 98, 147, 247; 
Leningr. 51, 217, 218; Crypt. A 8 1, A 5 3, A 8 5, 
A 8 9; Vat. Gr. 768, 770, 1842; Barb. 346; Par. 
Gr. 243, 273, (275); Br. Mus. 36,660; Ox. Bar. 99, 
Ox. Seld. 32. 

ovde iai: cett. 

ov8' ov MI Leningr. 550; Marc. 13; Ox. Laud. 36. 

3, 6: opaaiv: cett. 

: Leningr. 51. 

KapTrov avrov: cett. 

Kapirov: Leningr. 51; Ox. Seld. 32. 

3, 7: fyvucrav: cett. 

vreyvwaav: Leningr. 550; Barb. 391; 446 m -. 

3, 8: TTJS <t>cavris: cett. 

: Crypt. A 8 1 ; Vat. Gr. 1842. 

hab. TOV v\ov: cett. 

om. TOV v\ov: Crypt. A 5 1, A 8 3. 


3, 9: (ante irov i) hab. A8a/*: Saba 147; Leningr. 217, 
550; Vat. Gr. 1842; Par. Gr. 273; Ox. Bar. 99, Ox. 
Seld. 32. Om. ASa/x: Ath. 20 (add. corr.); Blateon 
49; Saba 98, 247; Leningr. 51, 218; Crypt. A 8 1, 
A 8 3, A 8 5, A 8 9; Vat. Gr. 768; Barb. 338, 391, 446; 
Marc. 13; Par. Gr. 243, 272, 275, 372; Br. Mus. 
36,660; Ox. Laud. 36; Hab. A8aM ASaju: Vat. Gr. 
770; Barb. 346. 

3, 12: eSco/cas: cett. 

: Vat. Gr. 768, Barb. 346. 

' 6/zou: cett. 

: Crypt. A 8 1, Ox. Seld. 32 (ante 

3, 14 : (post TIJS 7775) : KO.I airo iravruv TUV eptrfruv r<av epirovrwv 
em TJ/S 7775: add. Ox. Bar. 99; om. cett. 

3, 16: TOVS ffTfvayfwvs: Ath. 20; Saba 98, 247; Leningr. 218; 

Crypt. A 5 3; Br. Mus. 36,660. 
TOP ffTwaynov: Blateon 49; Saba 147; Leningr. 51, 550; 
Crypt. A 5 1, A 8 5, A 5 9; Vat. Gr. 768, 770, 1842; 
Barb. 338, 346, 391, 446; Marc. 13; Par. Gr. 243, 
272, 273, 275, 372; Ox. Bar. 99, Ox. Seld. 32, Ox. 
Laud. 36 (deest P. 217). 

: cett. 

: Leningr. 51. 

3, 19: i8por?;ri: Saba 147; Leningr. 218, 550; Crypt. A 5 1, 
A 8 5, Vat. Gr. 770, 1842; Barb. 338, 346, 391, 446 
(?) ; Par. Gr. 243, 272, 275 ; Ox. Seld. 32, Ox. Laud. 36. 
iSpwri: Ath. 20; Blateon 49; Saba 98; Leningr. 51; 
Crypt. A 8 9, Vat. Gr. 768; Marc. 13; Par. Gr. 
372; Br. Mus. 36,660; Ox. Bar. 99 (desunt P. 273, 
217, A 8 3, 5247. 

The general impression of this scheme is chaos. If you select at 
random two MSS running parallel in one passage, you must be 
prepared to find them disagreeing in the rest of the passages listed. 


And if perchance you receive the impression from this lesson that 
two or three MSS form a group, you may be pretty sure, according 
to our experience, that they will disagree hi other lessons. 

Thus, one might gather from the list that Saba 247 together with 
Saba 98 forms a uniform "Saba-group," as indeed we supposed for 
a long tune that they did. But in the only real variant of the 
second lesson for Christmas, we find them at variance; after K<H 
irpovo/ieuaei iravras, Saba 98 (with Ven. 13, Laura 177 and 190, Ox. 
Laud. 36) continues: viovs 2i?0, while Saba 247 and the other MSS 
prefix the article to viovs. The same is the case in the fourth 
lesson for Christmas (Is. 11, 2) where Saba 98 (with Saba 147, 
Ox. Laud. 36 corr., two of the old South-Italian MSS) has irvwua 
Oeov, while Saba 247 (with Vat. Reg. 75 and the rest of the C-MSS) 
has irwujua TOV 0eov. Also in the fourth lesson for Epiphany (Exod. 
14. 21) Saba 98 (with two South-Italian MSS and with Laura 177) 
gives viryyayc xupios ri\v 8a\aff<rav where Saba 247 has evriyaye xrX. with 
the rest of the MSS. Finally in Is. 55, 10 (the second lesson for 
the benediction of the waters on Epiphany) the words KOI ffvvrjyuwoi 
are lacking in Saba 247, Flor. IX, 15 and Laura 177 but are kept 
in Saba 98 and the other MSS. 

The same results are found for the MSS which, to judge from 
the list, might seem to form a group, viz. Par. 272 and 372, Ox. 
Laud. 36 and Marc. 13. The only real group is made up of three 
late Italian MSS, Barb. 338, 391, 446 which are apparently descend- 
ants of one archetype. 

But it is possible to bring some order into this bewildering mass 
of details. Among the variants three groups can be distinguished: 
first, purely scribal errors, which, owing to the perfection of the 
C-type, are rare; second, some readings which are not scribal errors 
but are found only in very few MSS and which, therefore, need 
not be considered characteristic of the lectionary tradition; and 
finally those variants attested by a considerable number of MSS, 
which are a real factor in the Prophetologion tradition. 

A curious point about the last group is the manner in which they 
make then' appearance. For example, if by way of experiment the 
text is established from the majority of C-type MSS and a new 
one is collated which, on palaeographical evidence belongs to the 
same type, it is ten to one that very few new variants will be 
found, but in places where variants are already listed it will be im- 
possible to guess whether the new MS will go with the majority or 


with the minority. Thus, the tradition does not furnish us with 
a "regie de fer" according to which preference may be given to 
one or the other of that type of variants. 

Before embarking upon the theoretical explanation of this pe- 
culiar kind of tradition, it is perhaps not out of place to make two 
statements of an historical character. Guided by parallels from 
the tradition of the classics, an increasing number of variants 
might be expected with the decreasing age of the MSS. Of course 
there are bad MSS from the later Middle Ages, but there are also 
a number of MSS dating from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries 
which preserve the Byzantine type with growing uniformity. 
Moreover, some few examples lead to the conclusion that variation 
was greater hi the tenth than in the eleventh and later centuries. 
This suggestion, however, must be left for further investigation. 

The outstanding fact is that there existed hi the eleventh century 
a fixed type of text characterized by the presence of a not very con- 
siderable number of real variants! This state of things cannot be 
explained by supposing a deviation from a common archetype, 
whether by the single extant MSS (or then- individual ancestors) 
or by the possible common ancestors of a group ("sub-archetypi"). 
Nor would the hypothesis of an archetype containing variants be 
of any help here. Such an hypothesis can reasonably be applied 
to some classical authors which were transmitted in copies meant 
for the use of scholars in a period when there was a high standard 
of scholarship. In such cases, variants obviously were hi their 
proper place. When such books, hi the period of decline, were 
read and recopied but rarely, there is a chance for a reconstruction 
of that kind. But a lectionary is meant not for study but for 
recital and one cannot recite variants! Consequently, anything 
like a Lachmannian stemma cannot be applied to our tradition; 
the lectionary presented in itself diversities and could assume vari- 
ous aspects when regarded at various times from various points of 
view. Being something like a light-house with a changing light, 
it was taken as a guide by the many scribes of Prophetologia, but 
a light-house when observed from one part of the horizon shows 
red light for all the observers in that quarter and, at the same 
tune, for observers in other places, white. It is impossible to say 
that either red or white is the only true light: they are of equal 
value; and the observers who at any given moment make observa- 
tions, may at another be scattered and observe different colors. 


Before trying to transfer this figure in the light of historical 
probability, we feel it necessary to emphasize, especially for this 
part of our paper, the tentative character of our suggestions. As 
far as the earliest phase of the O. T. lessons are concerned, valuable 
material has been collected by Brightman hi his Eastern Liturgies 
and, more recently, Baumstarck and Rahlfs, Conybeare and Burkitt 
have made highly interesting contributions to the subject. From 
our special point of view, however, only a few relevant facts can 
be gathered from these researches: 

(1) The comparison between the different systems of O. T. lectio 
solemnis hi the various branches of the Christian church shows a 
few common features. There are lessons which figure for the same 
feasts in the lectionary systems in use at very distant places. They 
must be supposed to go back to the very origin of Christianity. 

(2) In the Greek church a very important reform took place at 
some given moment, which relegated the 0. T. lessons to the Missa 
Praesanctificatorum, which is celebrated chiefly during Lent. The 
date of this reform cannot be more than approximately 30 fixed: 
it must be later than John Chrysostom and probably also than 
Maximus Confessor, and before the beginning of the ninth century 
(the date of the Cod. Barberinus 87). 

If we combine these facts with the arguments which may be 
deduced from the text of the extant MSS of the Prophetologion, 
we get a series of fixed points which we may in imagination try to 
combine into a continuous line. At a given moment, probably 
somewhere during the eighth century, a comparatively fixed type 
of Prophetologion was created at one given place which, if we 
remember the evidence set forth above, cannot but be Con- 
stantinople. This reform seems to fit in with the general aspect 
of the end of the eighth century, characterized as it is by the latest 
phase of the iconoclastic quarrels and the strong and concentrated 
tendency towards orthodox uniformity which followed. The most 
important centre of this religious tension is the famous Stoudion, 
and perhaps we may seek, by way of a mere working hypothesis, 
the real birth-place of our Prophetologia within its walls. As a 

30 Pargoire, L'&glise byzantine de 527 a 847, places this reform between c. 650 
and c. 800 (cf. p. 230 and p. 343); de Meester, in Rome, 1908, Tableau synoptique 
(following p. 358) in the eighth century; but canon 51 of the second synod in 
Trullo shows that it took place shortly after 692 A.D. 


basis for the new Prophetologia were taken some carefully selected 
copies of the traditional Bible, representing the same recension, 
probably the Lucianic. But of course it was impossible to get 
copies with absolutely identical texts; 31 small wonder if, for example, 
some copies read TOV &> r<a Trapafctow (Gen. 3, 2), others rou irapadei<rov. 
A second element of disagreement was due to ibhe fact that the 
creators of the new Prophetologion were bound to retain a certain 
number of lessons familiar to the faithful, e.g. the text of the old 
lesson about the sacrifice of Elijah to which the faithful had listened 
for ages at the feast of Elijah ought to remain unchanged, and 
any attempt to introduce new readings was destined to be overcome 
by the conscious and unconscious resistance of tradition. 

The new and handsome Prophetologia were sent to all the im- 
portant churches of the orthodox world, and we may safely assume 
that they were zealously copied and recopied nearly everywhere. 
In some remote places, however, in South Italy, where the pro- 
nouncements of the Patriarch could have but weak repercussions, 
the authorities did not wish to depart from the text to which the 
faithful had grown accustomed; therefore they were content to 
accommodate the choice of the texts to the new scheme. 82 

This pursuit of uniformity was not a single act but it made 
itself felt in the following centuries as a constant force, of course 
with greater or lesser strength at various periods in the history of 
the Empire. New lessons were added, and they bear in our MSS 

31 We think it highly improbable that there existed at this time a single MS 
giving the text exactly as it was written by Lucian some five hundred years 
earlier. Even if we grant that such a MS existed (V. Rahlfs, Septuagintastudien 
3, p. 10, note 1) the kind of tradition mentioned above seems to exclude the pos- 
sibility of deriving the extant MSS from an archetype. The O. T. tradition is 
to a large extent characterized by the constant practice of collating the MSS 
in use with old and venerable copies or with modern and up to date texts. We 
suppose that the Lucianic readings were not transmitted primarily through 
the medium of MSS copied directly or indirectly from the archetype written 
by Lucian himself, but through insertion of the new readings in the copies in use. 
We have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity of discussing this topic 
with Prof. K. Latte and were very glad to hear him express opinions in entire 
agreement with the view set forth above. 

32 Cf. above p. 198. The Codex Florentinus, Plut. IX, 15, fairly often gives 
the continuous text, where, in the normal type, one or more verses are left out. 
We do not yet know whether this also holds good for the other two old MSS 
belonging to this group. 

Cod. Saba 247, fol. 124r 
Sept. 1st. (Is. 61, 1 ff.) 


basis for the new Prophetologia were taken some carefully selected 
copies of the traditional Bible, representing the same recension, 
probably the Lucianic. But of course it was impossible to get 
copies with absolutely identical texts ; 31 small wonder if, for example, 
some copies read TOV tv TW 7rapa5ei<7o> (Gen. 3, 2), others TOV irapadetffov. 
A second element of disagreement was due to the fact that the 
creators of the new Prophetologion were bound to retain a certain 
number of lessons familiar to the faithful, e.g. the text of the old 
lesson about the sacrifice of Elijah to which the faithful had listened 
for ages at the feast of Elijah ought to remain unchanged, and 
any attempt to introduce new readings was destined to be overcome 
by the conscious and unconscious resistance of tradition. 

The new and handsome Prophetologia were sent to all the im- 
portant churches of the orthodox world, and we may safely assume 
that they were zealously copied and recopied nearly everywhere. 
In some remote places, however, in South Italy, where the pro- 
nouncements of the Patriarch could have but weak repercussions, 
the authorities did not wish to depart from the text to which the 
faithful had grown accustomed; therefore they were content to 
accommodate the choice of the texts to the new scheme. 32 

This pursuit of uniformity was not a single act but it made 
itself felt in the following centuries as a constant force, of course 
with greater or lesser strength at various periods in the history of 
the Empire. New lessons were added, and they bear in our MSS 

31 We think it highly improbable that there existed at this time a single MS 
giving the text exactly as it was written by Lucian some five hundred years 
earlier. Even if we grant that such a MS existed (V. Rahlfs, Septuagintastudien 
3, p. 10, note 1) the kind of tradition mentioned above seems to exclude the pos- 
sibility of deriving the extant MSS from an archetype. The O. T. tradition is 
to a large extent characterized by the constant practice of collating the MSS 
in use with old and venerable copies or with modern and up to date texts. We 
suppose that the Lucianic readings were not transmitted primarily through 
the medium of MSS copied directly or indirectly from the archetype written 
by Lucian himself, but through insertion of the new readings in the copies in use. 
We have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity of discussing this topic 
with Prof. K. Latte and were very glad to hear him express opinions in entire 
agreement with the view set forth above. 

32 Cf. above p. 198. The Codex Florentinus, Plut. IX, 15, fairly often gives 
the continuous text, where, in the normal type, one or more verses are left out. 
We do not yet know whether this also holds good for the other two old MSS 
belonging to this group. 


dOg<JLf/dL/ 1 
-0/^f p / JLCLf <O ^> /> O O^/K C 

cp A if// 

ft ) MTf I^IJC M c W| 8V. 

- o U 

o <rtf H 


^o Q f vii oo 

cm un f/ 


*TT: p K 

cu cu- 

,~ - .-T- -, ; :;^.i^?rj^-'E.-, ^... . - - *.'. 

^. <SkiVfntcLOOrHfI 


.* -^.,' ' ';-.' r : '.."'- -'.;'' 

Cod. Suba 247, fol. 124r 
Sepr. 1st. (,fs. 61, i ff. ) 


the same mark of uniformity as the old ones. In some cases it 
may be supposed that lessons which hi the first copies of the new 
Prophetologion were indicated only by a reference-sign (f??T6i) were 
abridged or enlarged; in such cases it became necessary to give the 
full wording of the lesson. Even here uniformity was attained: 
witness the lesson from Joshua referred to above (p. 204). A still 
more unambiguous testimony of the extraordinarily dominating 
influence emanating from one single centre of the religious life, is 
the introduction of the same corrections in a number of MSS; 
this can hardly be explained but by assuming a swift radiation of 
new teachings from Constantinople, spread over the Eastern 
Church, through the medium either of new copies sent out from the 
metropolitan scriptoria or of the anagnostai who had received their 
training at the patriarchal school and gone out to the provinces 
eager to recite the Holy Texts hi the form adopted by the famous 
doctors of the capital. Often they wrote new copies themselves 
(witness the many anagnostai in the colophons); in other cases 
they were content to introduce the new readings in the old copies 
they were bound to make use of. 

Through these centuries (the tenth to the thirteenth) there runs 
a broad river of tradition carrying with it an old stock of variant 
readings and receiving others from brooks derived from other cur- 
rents of the tradition. The text of the Prophetologion was con- 
tinually exposed to two influences which counteracted each other: 
the conservative tendency of uniformity, patronized by the schools of 
the capital, and the influence exercised by contamination with texts 
of the MSS of the ordinary Biblical tradition. 

We must remember that each copy only furnishes us with a 
limited view of the contents of the tradition at a given moment. 
For if we take this expression in its full meaning, it includes the 
complete text with all the various readings found in all the copies 
known and used at a given moment; while a single manuscript, 
even if complete, normally does not give more than one reading in 
each case. The tradition as a whole has, so to speak, two dimen- 
sions, the single MS only one. For the eleventh century, however, 
from which we possess rich material, we may with some certainty 
assume that the entire bulk of MSS at our disposal gives a fairly 
complete picture of the whole tradition. It is possible that more 
evidence will show that some variants which we are now inclined 
to classify as peculiar are, in fact, real variants, but great surprises 


are hardly to be expected. There is no doubt that in that period 
the tendency towards uniformity made itself felt to a striking 

It is possible, as hinted above, that as far as the earlier centuries 
are concerned, there was a broader margin of variation, and that 
the eleventh century tradition represents, if we may use a figure, 
a narrowing of the river; it is possible also that the course has been 
far more complicated than we are able now to discern. 33 

In order to avoid misunderstanding, we wish to summarize, omit- 
ting all hypothetical matter, the chief results of our investigation 
of the MSS. The tradition of the Prophetologion, as found in the 
extant MSS, leads necessarily to the following conclusions: 

(1) the creation at a given moment of a fixed lectionary type, 
embodying elements from older strata: 

(2) the use for this purpose of fairly but not completely 
uniform copies of the Bible: 

(3) a constant influence from one centre upon the text and the 
contents of the lectionary: 

(4) a kind of tradition characterized by the fact that the scribes 
usually knew great sections of the text by heart and consequently 
were liable to contaminate unconsciously the text of their originals 
with readings known to them from the school or from the church. 

Our last problem must be how to produce an edition of the 
Prophetologion which will give the clearest possible account of the 

We propose the following general principles: 

(1) The text itself must be based upon the evidence found in 
MSS of the C-type, represented by a nucleus of carefully written 
MSS from the eleventh century. 

(2) Account must be given of all real variants found in Propheto- 
logia from earlier times, so far as available. 

(3) If our nucleus contains variants there are three possibilities: 
(a) the variants, if found only in one MS and unknown in other 
witnesses to the Septuagint tradition may be regarded as individual 

33 It is possible that by further investigations we may be able to prove the 
existence of a tradition, established with the same stability in the ninth cen- 
tury as in the eleventh; in this case, of course, our schemes will have to be 


errors and consequently totally neglected: (b) variants found only 
in one or two Prophetologion MSS, but occurring in other Septua- 
gint MSS, may reflect a secondary influence from the Bible; they 
may be included in the apparatus: (c) variants appearing in a num- 
ber of our nucleus MSS must be regarded as belonging to the 
genuine Prophetologion tradition; they are probably as old as the 
book itself, and therefore are of equal value. As we wish to provide 
an edition which gives a picture as true as possible of the text which 
formed, together with Evangelion and Praxapostolos, the scriptural 
basis for Byzantine religion, it seems advisable to print in the text 
itself the readings which were the best known or which met with the 
least resistance; that is to say that the variant found in the majority 
of the nucleus MSS must be printed in the continuous text. For 
the other variants, we must try to find a typographical arrange- 
ment by which such readings may be presented as belonging to the 
core of the tradition. It is not impossible, however, that it will 
seem necessary 'to take into account, when pondering the vari- 
ants of our MSS, those MSS of the ordinary Biblical tradition 
which belong to groups generally akin to the Prophetologion 

(4) Variants in other MSS not belonging to the nucleus are of 
little value for our purpose and they certainly will add nothing 
new to the knowledge of the text. It may, however, be interest- 
ing to give the readings from some Prophetologion MSS which 
represent the most abnormal versions of the text, to give an idea 
of the amount of variation which arose and therefore of the general 

The chief aim of the proposed edition of the Prophetologion 
as a part of the Monumenta Musicae Byzantinae is to enrich our 
knowledge of an aspect of Byzantine civilization hitherto rather 
neglected. But during the preparatory work we have encountered 
many difficulties and been bound to take up many problems, some 
of them quite new to us, concerning branches of Byzantine philology 
(matters of religion, liturgy, music and palaeography) as well as 
the history of Old Testament tradition and of the lectio solemnis. 
In the present paper we have summarily treated some of them and 
we hope that our readers will get the impression that the subject 
is worth study and that a good edition of the Prophetologion might 


be of considerable value for scholars working in various fields of 
Byzantine philology or engaged in researches concerning the history 
of the Bible or the Eastern Church. If this is the case, we beg 
them to remember that the task is difficult, and that it will be to 
the advantage of the edition for us to receive criticisms and sug- 
gestions from experts before the publication of the volume itself. 


Yale University 

In connection with my recent volume on the mystic gospel of 
Hellenistic Judaism there seems to have been much perplexity as to 
whether the terms "initiation," "mystery" and the like were being 
used "figuratively" or "literally." What has surprised me is that 
the question has been posed as a dilemma: was the Mystery of 
Hellenistic Judaism a real, a literal, mystery with rites, or was it 
only a figurative mystery without them? In reality, for centuries 
before Philo there had been talk among the Greeks of a literal mys- 
tery which had no rites at all, namely the mystery of philosophy. 1 

It is well known t^hat the Pythagoreans were deeply influenced 
by Orphic ideas, and were organized on the model of mystic 6ia<roi', 
with hearers and an inner group of iiaBinia.TiK.oi who were the only 
ones to whom the saving truths of the sect were revealed. The 
difficulty is that we cannot generalize about the way this inner 
teaching was regarded. It is a fair assumption, however, that the 
members of the inner group thought that their studies were leading 
to a genuine /c<l0ap<ns of soul which would enable them to escape 
the cycle of recurrent incarnations. 2 

Heraclitus seems to have avoided mystic language no more than 
his followers. An ancient epigram quoted by Diogenes Laertius 3 
said: "Be not in a hurry to finish the book of Heraclitus the Ephe- 
sian. It is obscure. . . . But if a /jforr^j guide you it will be clearer 
than sunlight." If Heraclitus presented his teaching as a mystery, 
his Fragment 125 becomes clear: TO, y&p vo^b^va. /car* avOp&irovs 
&viepd)ffTl nvevvrai. Why should he refer to the things 

1 Interesting material on the earlier ^uo-i/col as mystics, and the bearing of the 
fact upon Philo's <j>vcru(oi &v8p& is to be found in Hans Leisegang, "Griechische 
Philosophic als Mysterion," Festschrift fur Franz Poland (Philologische Woch- 
enschrift, 1932, nos. 35-38), 245-252. That material is not repeated. 

2 That the ancients regarded Pythagoreanism as a mystery is clear at once 
from lamblichus, Pythag. Vit., xxii f., 101-105; xxxii, 226-228. 

8 ix, 16. 



"called mysteries by men" if he were not contrasting them with 
true mysteries, and if the so-called mysteries were celebrated in an 
unholy way was there not in his mind a more correct type of 
celebration? It is notable also that hi the Theaetetus (155e ff.) 
where Plato expounds some of Heraclitus' doctrines, he prefaces 
his exposition with Socrates' warning against letting any of the 
uninitiated (d/ifojToi) hear it, i.e. "those who think nothing exists 
but what they can grasp in their two hands." The doctrine itself 
is stated as the pvirrlipia of certain clever men. 4 It would, then, 
seem possible that Heraclitus' obscurities were deliberately designed 
to keep the true doctrines intelligible only to those trained hi the 
school to understand them. 

Empedocles obviously combined a mystic religion of Orphic base, 
in which metempsychosis was the primal belief, with a physical 
theory of the universe. He went about proclaiming his philosophy 
in the guise of a fallen deity among men who hi some way had 
become "no longer mortal." 6 Were his physical philosophy and 
his religion separated by as great a "gulf" as Bur-net thinks? 8 Or 
did not the saving value of wisdom hinted at in Frag. 132 actually 
include the cosmology? "Blessed is the man who has gamed the 
notion of divine wisdom; wretched he who has a dun notion of the 
gods in his heart." 

In the writings of Plato these possibilities become actualities. 
"Philosophy is itself a purification and a way of escape from the 
'wheel,' " Burnet says of all Greek thought influenced by Pythago- 
reanism. But his words and their implication have been over- 
looked. 7 The Greek philosophers were scornful of mystic rites 
precisely because they believed they had found the true way of 
purification in the purgation of the soul by correct teaching. Bur- 
net may be right that the Phythagoreans gave this mystic meaning 
to the word philosophy, but it is demonstrable that philosophy was 
a means of salvation to Plato, and that when we get beyond the 

4 There is to be sure some doubt that 156a ff . describes a doctrine of Heraclitus 
himself, though even C. Hitter takes it to be so (Platon, II, 97). Taylor's guess 
(Plato, 330) of Hippasus is attractive. In any case here is a doctrine in which 
Heraclitean and Pythagorean elements are mingled and presented as a mystery. 

6 Frag., 112. 



propaedeutics of the Dialogues the higher ground is presented as a 

There will never be agreement about the "essential" Plato, any 
more than about the "essential" Paul or Jesus, for the simple 
reason that his writings are so broadly suggestive that every one 
can find in them some justification for his own thought and will 
inevitably feel that the "essential" element is the one that appeals 
to himself. In my opinion, the study of Plato should begin with 
his statement hi the Seventh Letter that he never put his philosophy 
into a book, and had no intention ever of doing so. 8 If this be 
taken seriously, it is very doubtful whether any of Plato's main 
arguments represent his objectives. The Dialogues were only pro- 
paedeutic, as mathematics itself was a propaedeutic, beyond which 
philosophy soared into the empyrean in the secret discourses. This 
position is closely parallel to that of the mysteries hi which, simi- 
larly, the outsiders, the d/ifo?T<, were hi sharp contrast with the 
judflrrai. The question of whether these terms in Plato were in- 
tended literally or figuratively turns on the existence not of an 
initiation rite, but of a belief that the process of learning the higher 
truths was a real purgation and means of salvation. 

Fortunately Plato twice defines a mystery for us. Describing 
the Orphic mystery, he says that its devotees: 

persuade not only individuals but even cities that there are atonements (Xforew) 
and purifications Ocadapjuot) for sins by means of sacrifices and pleasures of sport 
for those who are yet alive and even for those who are dead. These they call 
TeXerAs which release us from our sins over there (i.e. in Hades), but for those 
who do not sacrifice terrible things are in store. 9 

This is put into the mouth of Adimantus and doubtless reflects the 
general notion in Plato's day of the nature and function of at least 
the Orphic mystery. Again in the Phaedo, 10 Socrates, after praising 
wisdom as the only true objective of man, says that Ultimate 
Truth (rt> a\t)8& T$ 6m) or true virtue practised with wisdom is a 
purification from all pleasures and pains. 

8 Ep., VII, 341c, d. This statement itself had a mystic setting: ofocow kubv yt 
irepl ai)T&v ten 0-&77pa/ijua o&5 ju^n-ore ybtirai' pijrdv y&p oi5o/xws k<rr&> cbs 
&XXa jual%tara, dXX' 6/c iroXXjjs crvvovvlas yiyvofikv^ irepl r6 IT pay pa avr6 /cai 
TOV ffvffiv ea[0i>7js, olov &ir6 vvpbs irtj5ij<raj>Tos t!-a.<j>0lv <j>us, kv 77} 

iavrb ^77 rp</>ei. 

9 Rep., II, 364e-365a. 

10 69a-d. 


And those who founded the mysteries (reXerds) seem not to be bad fellows at all, 
but in reality to have long ago hinted that an uninitiated man (djufojros Kal 
dT&eoros) who comes into Hades would lie in the mud, but that the purified and 
initiated man (KeKa.8apiJ.kvos Kal rereXeoy^i/os) would on his arrival there dwell 
with the gods. So then there are, as those who have to do with the mysteries 
(TeXerAs) say, "Many who bear the wand, but few Bacchi." These latter are hi 
my opinion none other than those who have rightly pursued philosophy. 

Socrates goes on to say that this has been his own aim, and that he 
would very shortly see, when he reached Hades, whether he had 
succeeded or not. The passage plainly means that the founders 
of the mysteries were on the right track when they divided the 
pure from the impure in the future world, but this purity, as they 
themselves hinted, was not merely ritualistic, since many performed 
the rites who were not Bacchi. The true purification was some- 
thing else, which Socrates identifies with true philosophy. Socrates 
looks forward quite literally to the testing of his success in after life. 
He had been practising the true mystery in following philosophy. 

This notion is later amplified. 11 "Philosophizing truly" so puri- 
fies the soul that it is separated from every bodily contamination, 
and is judged on its purity hi this sense in Hades. Only freedom 
from bodily nature can prevent the soul from reincarnation, and 
only philosophy is the true mystery or initiation which can effect 
such purity: els 84 ye 0ej> y&os jui) <j>i\o(ro4>rj<ravTai Kal iravr&us KadapQ 
am6pn off Ofais afanveiffQai dXX* ^ r<y 0iXo/ia0ei. 12 So those who want 
to care properly for their souls devote themselves to the Xforw Kal 
Ka0apju6s of philosophy. 13 This Xixris consists in philosophy's teach- 
ing, that reality lies not hi things perceived by the senses, but in 
the invisible things perceived by the soul. 14 

Similar literal statements, that the true philosophy which leads 
to immaterial reality is the true and only saving mystery, appear 
elsewhere in Plato's writings. Stesichorus' great speech, which 
Socrates summarizes in the Phaedrus, presents philosophy hi exactly 
the same way. Our fate in successive incarnations is determined 
entirely by our steadfastness in vision of the immaterial forms. 

11 Phaedo, 80d if. The more important passages on philosophy as mystery in 
Plato have recently been brilliantly discussed by Jeanne Croissant, Aristote el les 
Mysttres, Liege et Paris, 1932, 159-164. 

12 Phaedo, 82c. 
13 Ibid.,82d. 

"Ibid., 83a-84b;cf. 67c,d. 


In its original state before incarnation the soul can stay in the 
blessed fields viewing Reality (r6 6v) along with pure justice, self- 
control and ImffrfiM, and sharing in the heavenly feast of ambrosia 
and nectar. 16 In life the soul's charioteer must control his steeds 
in order to attain the vision and keep it. Apparently the vision 
must be seen at least once every thousand years or the soul falls. 
Once a soul has fallen its only salvation lies hi recalling glimpses of 
truth it had caught in former cycles. It is the function of the 
philosopher to stimulate memories of this kind and this function is 
"perfecting oneself in the perfect mysteries" and so "becoming 
truly r&eos." 18 In a sense this is only an imitation of the ideal 
mystery. Plato describes again the rapture of the perfect vision 
hi company with the gods: 

Beauty was a resplendent thing to see at that time when with the blessed chorus 
we with Zeus and others with another god beheld the blessed sight and spectacle, 
and were initiated into what it is right to call the most blessed of the mysteries. 
This mystery we celebrated when we were more complete (6X6Xi;poj) and not 
subject to the evils which have subsequently oppressed us: and we who were 
initiated into these appearances (^inanara) which are complete (dXi/cX^po), 
simple (ATrXfi), calm (drpeju?;), and happy, and were given the mystic view 
(r<MrTto>j>Tos) into the pure beam, were pure and unstamped with that thing 
we now bear about called the body, to which we are bound like an oyster. 17 

Plato goes on to apply this notion to the subject immediately at 
hand, the power of beauty to awaken the madness of love. The 
recent initiate into true beauty finds that human loveliness recalls 
to him a longing for the higher beauty, whereas the uninitiated 
desires only to possess the beautiful human form. To the ini- 
tiate, we may therefore infer, love is really a fresh revelation of 

T& &rOirUK&. 18 

The vision of beauty is presented in exactly the same way in 
Diotima's speech in the Symposium. The first part of her dis- 
course gradually leads to the conclusion that all love, being love 
of beauty, is really love of immortality, which expresses itself on 

15 Phaedrus, 247c-e. On this Orphic banquet see Rep., II, 363c. 
w Phaedrus, 249c: reX&ws del TeXerds reXofytepos. 

17 Ibid., 250b, c. This last figure was in Philo's mind when he said that at his 
death Moses "cast off his body which grew around him like the shell of an oyster, 
while his soul which was thus laid bare desired its migration thence"; Virt., 76. 
See my By Light, Light, 197. 

18 Phaedrus, 250d-253c. 


the bodily plane in the instinct for physical procreation, and has 
its spiritual counterpart in the desire to beget, with a noble help- 
meet, a noble offspring. 19 True love, therefore, is a desire to beget 
nobility. To have reached this point in the understanding of love 
is initiation into the lower stages, and this, she says, Socrates could 
perhaps achieve. 20 But the more advanced degrees of the mystery, 
rd rAea xal ^TTOTTTIKA, are probably beyond Socrates' power. 21 To 
enter the higher mystery and come to the "things seen," the as- 
pirant begins as a young man with love for a single beautiful body. 
Thence he comes to appreciate beautiful bodies in general, and at 
last to recognize that the beauty hi each is a common possession, 
which leads to an apprehension of the Form of Beauty, and a love 
for all beautiful bodies. The next step is to recognize that spiritual 
beauty is higher than bodily beauty, until gradually the expanding 
mind comes to grasp the common beauty manifest in all sorts of 
spiritual forms, thoughts and deeds of every kind. This will lead 
to a vision of the "great sea of beauty" itself, the Form of Beauty 
hi a sense much clearer and more accurate than the form previously 
inferred from beautiful bodies. Previous labor had been directed 
to this single end, the vision of Beauty itself which is unchanging, 
pure, unmixed and perfect, and of which beautiful objects, bodies, 
or thoughts, only in a sense partake. For a person who has achieved 
this vision, an evil life (0aOXos /3os) is no longer possible. 22 Here 
again the vision of the forms, to which true philosophy alone can 
lead one, is the supreme, the only saving mystery. As the only 
real mystery it is the literal mystery. 

The line of ascent to the mystic ^TTOTTTIKA in the Symposium at 
once suggests the passage which is probably closer to the Lecture 
on the Good than anything Plato published: the description of the 
Dialectical Ladder, and its counterpart the Myth of the Cave, in 
the Republic. 23 Throughout both these descriptions it is clear that 
the objective is to raise the soul to a vision of the forms, and, 
supremely, of the Good. Mathematics is introduced as the best 

19 On love as desire for immortality see especially Symp., 206d, e; 207c. 

20 TO.VTO. T& tpuriKa foots, & Sti/cpares, K&V ai) /iwjfleiqs : Symp., 209e. 

21 Symp., 210a. This is of course Socrates' modesty, to suggest the great superi- 
ority of Diotima. 

22 Symp., 210a-212a. 

23 This is clearly pointed out by Croissant, pp. 159 ff. 


preliminary discipline for this process, but, as it represents the 
realm of di&voia rather than of voOs or &rwrTiJ/M/, it is only a pre- 
liminary. There is no indication whatever, here or elsewhere, that 
Plato did more than approach the TeXeurifr by means of mathematical 
analogies intelligible only to the mathematician, but valuable for 
philosophy as a means rather than an end. Mystical terms are not 
elaborated in the passage, but appear inevitably when Plato de- 
scribes the ultimate achievement, the reXevTp els etdrj, the coming 

Plato begins this discussion with the fact that the Good was to 
the conceptual world what the sun is to the visible world, 25 and he 
returns to this figure in the Myth of the Cave, the Orphic pattern 
of which has long been recognized. Here escape from the lower 
world is exactly as in the earlier Dialogues, an emergence from our 
world of appearance to a final vision of the forms of reality, with 
then 1 supreme form, the Good. The whole is obviously a descrip- 
tion of the "true philosophy" which was the "true mystery," as 
indeed the Republic itself is a passionate attempt to demonstrate 
that the state can only be saved by citizens trained to see the 
Realities, and hence competent to direct the lives of others toward 
what is real and true. It is no figure of speech that Philosophy 
purifies men's souls and makes them ready for this world and the 
next. To Plato there was no other escape from the wheel. 

In view of the agreement of these passages, and of Plato's state- 
ment that his true philosophy is not elaborated in any Dialogue, 
because it is "unutterable," it seems to me that the bulk of his 
writings must be understood as propaedeutic. Problem after prob- 
lem can be posed and left unsolved because the reader is not ready 
for the solution. It is enough for the Dialogue to stimulate thought, 
shake confidence in cliches, and drive the reader to the Academy 
for initiation into the truth. 26 Plato often scorns the mysteries 
about him (though he draws heavily upon Orphic sources) because 

., 51 lb, c. 

., 508bff. 

26 This relation of the ordinary detail of a Dialogue to the real objective of 
philosophy appears in passing in Gorg., 497c. Here Callicles resents Socrates' 
pushing him with "trifling" questions. He wants to get on to more important 
matters. Socrates says that Callicles desires to be initiated into the higher 
mysteries without first being initiated into the lower; and Socrates keeps Callicles 
to the lower, as Plato keeps his readers in general, because he knows that Callicles, 
like all men, must begin at the bottom. 


he knew that the frenzied dancing of bacchanals, 27 for example, 
falls pathetically short of accomplishing its objective. 

It is clear that Platonism was later presented as the perfect mys- 
tery. In the Epinomis (986a-d) initiation into the "stars" is said 
to give immortality, knowledge and virtue. 28 In his earlier period, 
while still under Platonic influence, Aristotle in all probability spoke 
the same language. J. Croissant's recent and brilliant study, to 
which reference has already been made, has thrown much new 
light upon the attitude of Aristotle to mystery. Approaching Aris- 
totle in the way Jaeger has now made inevitable, Croissant first 
analyzes Aristotle's attitude toward the popular mystery religions 
and shows that Aristotle's aesthetic Kd0ap<ns is opposed to the mystic 
notion; although it began as mysticism it changed into an elaborate 
rationalization of the experience in terms of medical theory. He 
then shows how Aristotle similarly began with the view that the 
goal of philosophy is initiation, a mystic vision which was explicitly 
made the true initiation and mystery, but replaced Plato's Idea of 
the Good with the higher vovs of man himself , as the source of that 
illumination which was the object of philosophy. 29 The materials 
Croissant has gathered are so extensive and so thoroughly analyzed 
that it would be useless to repeat them. One thing, however, 
stands out in striking relief: that Aristotle's successors in Hellen- 
istic and Roman tunes did not lose sight of the fact that he, like 
Plato, had presented the goal of philosophy as an initiation into 
Truth, and it is owing to their quotations that we know this phase 
of Aristotle's development at all. To them Aristotle was like Plato 
in making Philosophy into the true mystery. One of Croissant's 
quotations from Plutarch is well worth repeating: 

Knowledge of that which is POTTOS, pure, and simple, flashing through the soul 
like lightning, at a stroke (&ira) gives one power to attain (Qvyeiv) and to behold 

27 Laws, 815c. On Plato's attitude to the popular mysteries see Croissant, 
13-20, 53 ff. 

28 See the Introditction of Albinus (2nd Cent. A.D.) to the writings of Plato, 
4f. (C. F. Hermann, Appendix Platonica, Leipz., 1875, 149). The attempt is 
made to schematize the dialogues from the first stages of refutation up to the 
full attainment of virtue and thence to mystic vision. aiiTf} rjj irepl rfy ^ixriv 
iffToplq, evTvyxh vot>T & Ka l r ti X7o/*&u 6eo\oylq. /coi T# TUV S\uv StarJet 
&VToif/6tic9a T& ffeta kvapy&s. 

29 But even at the end the saving power of deupia in the Nicomachean Ethics 
is clearly recognizable. See W. Jaeger, Aristotles, 100 ff., 164-170. 


(wpoffidelv). Wherefore Plato and Aristotle call this part of philosophy the 
kirovTinbv, when those who have by reason gone beyond objects of opinion, 
mixed and variform, come to that [Existence] which is simple and immaterial, 
and in a sense attain unto the pure truth concerning it; this is the goal (reXos), 
they think, of perfect (imXifa) philosophy. 80 

Philo is directly in line with this tradition, and the Old Testa- 
ment was for him a guide to the true philosophy by which man was 
thought saved by association with the immaterial. 31 If only this 
side of Philo was represented the question whether mystic Judaism 
was really a mystery could be answered in only one way. It was, 
like Platonism, a true mystery because it was the only way man 
could achieve salvation from the flesh. 32 

But there is another side to Philo's Mystery, as there was another 
side to Plutarch's mystic thought. From Plato and Aristotle to 
Plutarch and on to the Neo-Platonists the great religious achieve- 
ment was the development of the Hellenistic conception of a sacra- 
ment. Some men, like Plotinus, could keep to pure mystery in the 
philosophic sense and seek TCI &ro7m/cd only by philosophic means. 
Others, of whom Plutarch is our best example, developed a sacra- 
mental notion in which the Platonic kind of mystery was combined 
with the popular mystic rites. Plutarch practised and admired these 
not because they were effective in themselves, though like any 
good sacramentarian he apparently had a deep respect for the opus 
operatum. The real meaning of the ritual act was that it supplied 
a revelation of truth. The act, like the myth, had value because 

80 Plutarch, De Iside et Osiride, 77. 

31 This is the thesis of my By Light, Light. 

32 A most interesting passage in Clement of Alexandria (Stromata, I, 176, 1 f.) 
is mentioned by H. G. Marsh, "The Use of nvar^piov in the Writings of Clement 
of Alexandria," Journal of Theol. Stud., XXXVII (1936), 68. Clement says that 
the philosophy of Moses is divided into four parts, the historical, the legislative, 
the sacerdotal (& icrrtv rrjs ^vonfrijj 0epias), and the theological, which is % 
eTTOTTTelo, fy faffw 6 IL\&Ti>)v ru>v ney&kuv 6vT<as clvai. nvvriiplav, but which 
Aristotle called metaphysics. Clement certainly has this from Philo or another 
mystic Jew. The passage illustrates beautifully how the Jewish Mystery was 
oriented by the Jews themselves with Platonic philosophy as mystery. After 
this essay was in print there appeared Hans von Balthasar's, "Le Mysterion 
d'Origine," Recherches de Science Religimse, XXVI (1936), 513-562; XXVII 
(1937), 38-64. It is a most illuminating sequel to this study for Christian 
thought. He is discussing "cet intellectualisme alexandrin, pour qui le mystere 
ne serait qu'une sorte de second lettre derriere le premiere, dont elle ne se dis- 
tinguerait pas qualitativement." 


it led men into the mystery of immaterial reality in the Platonic 
sense. From this tune on men wanted both a ritual act and a 
mystic philosophy. The act, for the more perceptive members of 
the group, was a visible sign of invisible grace; the real mystic 
experience was essentially not in the visible sign but in the invisible 

It is obvious that the Jews of Philo's period took a similar view 
of Jewish rites. I have already shown elsewhere how every detail 
of the Jerusalem cultus, the temple and its rites, the vestments, 
victims, 83 and the rest, were allegorized exactly as Plutarch alle- 
gorized the rites and robes of Isis and Osiris to show that sharing 
in the rites was to share in a sacrament which brought to men a 
mystic salvation. 34 Philo did not by any means stop with this. 
The whole body of ritual laws is similarly allegorized, so that the 
Jew could feel that each command disclosed a saving revelation of 
truth in the mystic sense, a saving identification of himself with 
immaterial reality. Circumcision is valuable in God's sight, Philo 
explains, for several reasons, but chiefly because it "drives irovrip& 
S6a from the soul, and all other things which are not <i\<40ot." 8B It 
is an outward sign of inward K&Oapffis, an inner experience not in 
the sense of Jeremiah, but in that of Plato and the mysteries. 

The sacrifices in the temple are all mystic rites for Philo. The 
animals and priests alike must be flawless in body as a symbol of 
the flawless soul offered to God. 36 The twelve loaves of showbread 
symbolize the twelve months of the year in which nature accom- 
plishes its circuit. Bread is used, in contrast to delicacies, because 
it represents the chief of virtues, yp<iira. 37 The bread is accom- 
panied by frankincense and salt which are likewise symbolic. The 
spectacle of the altar containing these simple things appears ridicu- 
lous to people who think in terms of costly banquets, he says, but 
has a quite different meaning to those who have learned to live in a 
way pleasing to God, i.e. to those "who have learned to belittle 
the pleasures of the flesh, and who, disciplining themselves in 

33 On victims see Spec., i, 162 ff . References to Philo are by the section divi- 
sions of Cohn-Wendland. Titles are abbreviated according to the scheme pub- 
lished in By Light, Light, pp. xiii f . 

34 See my By Light, Light, chap. IV. 

35 Spec., i, 4-12. 
38 Spec., i, 166 ff . 
87 Ibid., 172 ff. 


of the things in nature, have a share in the pleasures and enjoyments 
of the mind." 88 

The festivals are similarly interpreted as mystic rites. Philo 
schematizes them so that there shall be the perfect mystic number 
ten. The first festival is the "feast of every day," a festival in 
which man so rises by contemplation that he, while fixed on earth 
with his body, is in his winged mind a genuine part of the great 
cosmic cycle, Until he finds his joy T$ aX4> St' a&rd r6 na\6v, which 
he regards as the only &ya86v. Joy in its fullest sense is possible 
only to the supreme Good, which is God, but the true mystic can 
come in a sense to share it. 39 This is the universal festival, the 
feast of every day, and is obviously a later version of the philo- 
sophic mystery of Plato. The Sabbath, the second festival, has 
not only the physical value of a day of rest, but is important because 
by the rest of the body the soul is liberated for the BeapifTutfo /3bs. 40 
The New Moon, the third festival, is praised largely in astronomical 
terms. Behind what Philo says apparently lies reference to the 
Cosmic Mystery, but the section is not specific. 41 The fourth, the 
festival of the Passover, makes of every man a priest, and the 
people who look beyond the letter by allegory, that is Jews who 
follow the Mystery, see in the feast the celebration or symbol of 
the great migration from body to spirit, the $vxi}s K&8ap<m prac- 
tised by every tro^ias ^paorfa. 42 The Passover was certainly elabo- 
rated in more detailed allegory for the significance of each part of 
its ritual to mystics, for hi one passage Philo says: 

So then let us always be well girded and entirely ready, renouncing all delay, for 
thanksgiving (eflxopiorfa) 43 and honor of the Almighty. For we are bidden to 
keep the Passover, which is the passage from the life of the passions to the practice 
of virtue, "with our loins girded," ready for service. We must grip the material 
body of flesh, that is "the sandals" with "our feet" that stand firm and secure. 
We must bear "in our hands the staff" of education (iratSela) to the end that 
we may walk straight and without stumbling through all the affairs of life. Last 
of all we must eat our meal "in haste," since it is not a mortal passing over, for 

38 Ibid., 175 f. 

39 Spec., ii, 41-55. 

40 Ibid., 56-70. 

41 Ibid., 140-144. 

42 Ibid., 145-149. 

43 In Migr., 25 the Passover is ij 7rp6s rbv wrijpa Oeitv 


it is called the irdurxa of God who is without beginning or end. And rightly is it 
so called, since nothing is beautiful which is not of God and divine. 44 

In discussing the Unleavened Bread of the fifth festival Philo 
calls it "the clearest symbol (Bclyna) of the unmixed food (Afuyfo 
TpoQli)" which is prepared by 0forw. 4B The sixth festival, that of 
the dedication of the Sheaf, leads Philo into a long digression on the 
notion that the Jewish nation is, as a group> a nation of priests for 
the whole world. As they have been purified by ol &yvtvnKol 
Ka0ap<rtoi, the study and discipline of the Law, so in this feast they 
make an. offering for the whole world. What they offer is a conse- 
cration to <6<7is (here, as frequently in Philo, God) of her products, 
the supreme e&x&pi<rros, so that man can thereafter use the fruits of 
the soil without sin (bwiralriov).** In spite of the general lack of 
"allegory" in the sense of mystic interpretation in the Exposition, 
a single sentence in the explanation of the seventh festival, that 
of First Fruits, lifts us to a glimpse of what the offering meant for 
mystics. In this case, Philo says, the First Fruits is offered in the 
form of a leavened cake or loaf which is "a material (aitrtfyrifr) 
euxapwrta by means of leavened loaves of the invisible efordfleia in 
our mind (Sidroia)." This comes very close indeed to the "visible 
sign of an invisible grace." In a more mystic writing this must 
have been much expanded, 47 and hi de Sacrif. Ab. et Caini 52-87, 
a long allegory is evolved, based upon the contrast between Cain's 
offering and the true offering of "First Fruits," with which the 
"buried cakes" of Sarah are associated. The feast of First Fruits, 
with its bread, is obviously at the background of the whole passage, 
one of the most mystical in Philo. Sarah's cakes are "buried" 

44 Sacr., 63; cf. Congr., 106; LA, iii, 94; Heres, 255. In LA, iii, 165 the "step 
forward" is the irp6ftarov, the Paschal lamb. 

45 (Spec., ii, 150-161, especially 161. In Congr., 161-168 the unleavened bread 
is elaborately allegorized. It is Itpbv, and its nourishment inspires <j>i\la rov 
JcaXoC ; it is a feeding on TO. iratdeia? Soyjuara. 

46 Spec., ii, 162-175. In ib., i, 270-272 he similarly makes the perfect sacrifice a 
efixaptorla. A man must come to the sacrifice pure in body, and purified in soul 
by <ro<l>la Kal TO ff<xf>las d6ynara, as well as by the other virtues. Then his true 
sacrifice will be the offering of himself, singing hymns aloud, to be sure, but 
giving the true fiixapurrla by projecting his vor}T& to God alone. In ib., 286-288 
the fire unextinguished on the altar represents the efoapioria, the perfect sacri- 
fice, in the heart; it also represents the $ws 5iavo(as, divine ao^la or kiriffri)iJ.i), 
leading the soul to Bewpla, TWV dacojit&rcop Kal vorjT&v. 

47 Spec., ii, 176-187. Mystic numerology is also connected with the feast. 


(one of the inmost secrets of the Mystery) because they are the 
food of the Mystic Three. Various other sacred meals, including 
manna, are also included in the discussion, which seems entirely 
to have forgotten its starting point and objective until Philo sud- 
denly concludes that all this is the true First Fruits. I suspect 
that the passage is purposely made almost unintelligible lest it fall 
into the hands of the "uninitiated," for every comer, he says (60), 
may not understand the Beta 8pyta, the divine rites. These rites 
seem to be the mystic explanation of the Jewish festivals. Here 
the bread seems a sacrament of complete dedication, spiritual food, 
given to one who has abandoned the body and dedicated the perfect 
"First Fruit," his own ^vxh. 

The eighth festival which Philo calls that of the "Sacred Month," 
is the New Year. In this Philo is chiefly concerned with the cere- 
mony of the Trumpet, the Shofar, so frequent in Jewish inscrip- 
tions. To him the whole festival parallels closely the iepoMvia of 
the Greeks, the period of armistice which was proclaimed among 
the Greeks for the sacred games. 48 So the trumpet, ordinarily a 
signal for war, in the festival proclaims cosmic peace. In the more 
allegorical interpretation, the "trumpet of peace in the soul torn 
by conflict" was the Logos, we learn from the Pseudo-Justinian 

The Festival of the Fast (Day of Atonement) is the ninth festival. 
It is celebrated as a fast in order to turn men from the material to 
the immaterial. The transitory can never truly nourish. In the 
absence of ordinary food God fed the fathers with manna from 
heaven, instead of unspiritual (afoxos) food. 60 So men are turned 
from the things ministered (TO. xopfiyo^wa) to the one who minis- 
ters (xopyyte) in exalted worship. This festival is certainly a mystic 
sacrament for Philo. It is celebrated on the tenth of the month 
to bring in the mystic associations of the perfect number ten. The 
hierophant (Moses) has established the fast on the tenth not to 
lead us into bodily hunger, but to enable the shining (or trans- 
lucent, Stains) and pure (nadaphv) dampness which comes from the 
to be borne into the soul, so that the soul can feast 

48 See Heinemann in L. Cohn, Die Werke Philos . . . in deutscher Ueberset., 
II, 159, n. 4. 

49 Spec., ii, 188-192. See By Light, Light, 303. 

50 Manna is abundantly cited as a symbol of mystical food: see By Light, 
Light, 208. 


itself on "the things really worthy of being seen and heard 
Bias Kal AKOTJS &ia)", i.e. clearly, on the true mystic tirowTtKa and 
teachings. 61 

The tenth festival is that of the Tabernacles. It is celebrated in 
the early autumn, just before the Jewish New Year, and so is the 
culminating feast of the year. By numerology it is made to repre- 
sent the achievement of all that has been attempted in the early 
festivals, the final passing over from the boundary of the material 
to the immaterial. The text is too corrupt for satisfactory render- 
ing, but its purport is clear. 62 

At the end Philo briefly summarizes. All the festivals have 
sprung from a common mother, the number seven, and minister to 
bodies by giving them a splendid regimen (d/3po8am>s) ; the festivals 
minister to souls by philosophy. 63 

What is this philosophic doctrine of the festivals or Jewish 0pyia? M 
We are beginning to see that the true celebration of a festival was 
its use as a sacrament, a step from the material to the immaterial 
life and being of God. In one passage hi the Allegorical Writings 
Philo begins specifically to answer the question: what is the God- 
given principle (ddyna) of the festivals for the mystic associates of 
philosophy (ol ^iXoo-o^tas diaffurai) ; 66 but he is led into a disgression 
from which he never extricates himself. He begins: 

The 86yna is this: God alone in the true sense keeps a festival. Joy and glad- 
ness and rejoicing are His alone; to Him alone it is given to enjoy the peace which 
has not element of war [this is the New Year's Trumpet]. 66 

So Philo goes on to a long description of God in His perfection of 
nature and happiness. We are reminded that in the Phaedrus the 

81 Spec., ii, 193-203; esp. 199, 202. 

62 Ib., 204-213 ;esp. 212. 

63 Ib., 214. 

64 In Spec., i, 269 Philo indicates, what is to be suspected, that the allegory of 
rites in this, a part of the Exposition, is only a superficial treatment. Another 
treatise contained the full allegory. Whether that "other treatise" was the lost 
part of the Quaestiones or not, a natural assumption, it is clear that much as is 
here, Philo's real understanding of the ritual was still more allegorical, and pre- 
sumably more mystical, than what we now have. On the fact that the Exposi- 
tion, a series of works designed for proselytes, is highly restricted in allegory, see 
my "Philo's Exposition of the Law and his De Vita Mosis," HTR, XXVII (1933), 



only true mystery was that of the heavens in which the gods parti- 
cipated. In contrast to this festival of God Philo describes at 
length the sinfulness of pagan festivals which seem devoted entirely 
to fleshly riotings. The Jewish festival, we are left to infer, is an 
imitation of the true festival of God, not a sharing hi human and 
material nature, but a transition, as far as man can go, to the realm 
of divine existence. 67 

Philo does not discuss any special meal which was the "sacred 
table or food" of the dXijfleis reXcrat, 68 that food to which those 
unpurified must not be admitted, but he might have said it, appar- 
ently, of the Passover, of the Unleavened Bread, or of any Jewish 
festival, so truly has he made the festivals into mystic sacraments. 
That mystic Jews had a special rite of initiation is not apparent in 
our evidence, but that they formed special groups for celebrating 
the Jewish "sacraments" in their own way with their own explana- 
tions and comments seems almost inevitable from what Philo says. 

It has appeared that the mystic Jew saw the supreme revelation 
of saving truth hi his Torah, when properly understood by allegory, 
and felt that because he had unique access to and revelation of the 
immaterial world, he had the true Mystery, at dX?j0eis reXerai. He 
had the true Mystery hi the Platonic sense, the truly saving phi- 
losophy of the purely Good and Beautiful, and he had it also in 
the sense that he, and he alone, had the divine Spyia, the right 
celebration of which meant coming into the fellowship and joy of 
the immaterial reality of God Himself. However we may now 
want to use the term, the mystic Jew himself gloried in the fact 
that his was not only a "real" mystery, but the only real one. 

67 A similar idea is developed in Spec., i, 193. In contrast to heathen riots 
God summons the Jews to their festivals first with the command that they "go 
into the sanctuary to share in the hymns, prayers, and sacrifices in such a way 
that both from the place and from the things they see (6pc5>/jej>a) and hear . . . 
they may come to love fcy/cp&reia and efoijSeia"; and thirdly that they may be 
warned from sinning by the sacrifice for sin, for, while a man seeks X6(r from 
sins he will hardly be planning new offences. The bp&n&a. Kol \ty6ncva, as well 
as the X6<ris, show at once that to Philo the temple service was a mystic rite. 

68 By Light, Light, 260 f . 


Bryn Mawr College 

In a recent discussion Hoffmann has taken exception to the 
generally accepted view that the supplicatio was closely associated 
with the Uctisternium. 1 He emphasizes the Roman origin of the 
former rite, and points out that the two ceremonies rarely occur at 
the same tune; moreover, when they are celebrated on the same 
occasion, a careful distinction is made between them. Their one 
real connecting link is, in his opinion, the phrase ad omnia pulvinaria 
which is used to describe the supplicatio. This phrase is however 
not always used, and is not recorded before the year 218 B.C. 
Hoffmann suggests that in this year the supplicatio was for the first 
time celebrated at the pulvinaria, where the kctisternia were held. 
He thinks that at this time Roman ritual had become thoroughly 
hellenised. As an example he points to the inclusion of character- 
istically Roman deities in the lectisternium of 217 B.C. 

Hoffmann's objection to the stress laid on the Greek elements in 
the supplicatio may be carried even a little farther. Wissowa, in 
discussing the subject admits that the supplicatio was originally a 
Roman custom but adds, "Aber zu einer fest geregelten gottes- 
dienstlichen Handlung wurden die Supplicationen erst innerhalb 
des graecus ritus: dass sie zu diesem gehoren, zeigt einerseits die 
Tatsache dass die offentliche Fiirbitte oder Danksagung geschieht 
ad (oder circa) omnia pulvinaria, andererseits der Umstand dass 
sie in der Regel nach Befragung der Sibyllinischen Biicher von den 
decemviri sacris faciundis angeordnet werden und den letztern 
auch die Leitung zusteht." 2 Hoffmann has pointed out that the 

1 W. Hoffmann, Rom und die griechische Welt im 4> Jahrhundert; Philologus, 
Supplemeniband XXVII, p. 68-83, 135-138. 

2 Religion und Kultus 1 , p. 424. 

He maintains this attitude in his later, more detailed article, P. W., s. v. Suppli- 
cationes, in which he says (949) : "Dieses sehr starke Uberwiegen der Sibyllinischen 
Bticher sowie die gelegentliche Verbindung der Supplicatio mit den Lectisternien 
und die Feier der Supplicatio ad omnia pulvinaria . . . berechtigen zu dem Schlusse, 
dass die Supplicationen wenn auch von Haus aus vielleicht romischen Ursprungs 
doch in verhaltnissmassig fruher Zeit in den Bereich der Akte des graecus ritus 
hineingezogen worden sind." 



celebration ad omnia pulvinaria was really more the exception than 
the rule. He cites ten instances, to which I can add three more, 
in which the phrase was used. Since in the books of Livy alone 
there are, as far as I know, sixty occurrences of supplicationes, 
those which took place at the pulvinaria form a small part, less 
than a quarter of the total. This fact certainly supports Hoff- 
mann's objection, but it still seems somewhat hazardous to refer 
to the supplicatio of 217 B.C. as the first occasion on which pulvi- 
naria were used in this ceremony. The loss of the second decade 
of Livy has made a gap in our evidence for the years preceding the 
Hannibalic war which must make almost any conclusion dealing 
with that period tentative. The supplicatio may however be taken 
as a problem in itself and not, as is usually done, as a piece of evi- 
dence for or against the presence of Greek influence. A new ques- 
tion then arises. If the supplicatio originally had no connection 
with the lectisternium, why should we assume that the two rites 
were later associated, simply on the strength of the phrase, ad 
omnia pulvinaria! 

The first point which comes up is the nature of the pulvinar. 
What was it like and how could a supplicatio be celebrated at it? 
We know that at a lectisternium images of the gods or objects repre- 
senting them were placed upon couches to partake of a festal 
meal. 3 Such couches were called pulvinaria and formed part of 
the regular equipment of many temples. When not in use they 
must have been kept inside the temple. During a supplicatio the 
people gathered at the temples to pray or to give thanks. It 
seems to have been characteristic of the occasion that the temples, 
which normally were kept closed, were then opened so that the 
general public might enter. 4 Apparently the circumstances called 
for closer communion with the god. In such a ceremony what 
part could the god's couch play? Certainly within the temple the 
god's image and not the couch would receive the prayers addressed 
to him. Why should the locality of the ceremony be indicated by 
one piece of the temple equipment? Warde Fowler apparently 
visualizes the pulvinar as a separate structure outside the temple. 
He says "in the fourth and third centuries advantage was taken of 
the pulvinaria to use them as stopping places in the procession of a 

3 P. W., s. v. Lectisternium. 

4 Livy XXX, 17, 6. Cf. Ill, 7, 7; V, 23, 3; VIII, 33, 20; XXX, 40, 4; XLV, 2, 6. 


supplicatio." 5 Perhaps he had in mind an outdoor triclinium some- 
thing like those connected with the tombs at Pompeii 6 and in the 
newly excavated cemetery at Isola Sacra. There is however no 
evidence for such structures nor, as far as I know, has one ever been 
found connected with a temple. Either interpretation of the word 
would be difficult in a passage in Livy which says "dona ad omnia 
pulvinaria dabuntur." 7 We know of course that the commonest 
meaning for pulvinar was "couch" but the difficulty of visualising 
it in relation to a supplicatio suggests that in this case the word 
may have been used with some other meaning. Is there any evi- 
dence of a secondary meaning for pulvinart 

A piece of evidence of vital importance hi this connection which 
appears to have been generally overlooked is preserved by the 
Pseudo-Acron Scholiast on Horace, Car. I, 37, 3. He says, Pul- 
vinaria dicebantur aut lecti deorum aut tabulata, in quibus stdbant 
numina ut eminentiora viderentur. A pulvinar might then be an 
elevation upon which the images of the gods or the cult objects 
representing them might be placed. Strictly speaking the word 
tabulata implies the use of wooden planking; we may picture a 
wooden platform or dais. The scholion alone might have no great 
value, were it not that there are instances of exactly such arrange- 
ments hi some Republican temples. At Gabii, in the so-called 
temple of Juno, one can see the holes in the side walls for the 
beams which supported a platform at the rear of the cella. In the 
floor, where the front of the platform would have come, is a stone 
threshold. 8 Apparently the space under the platform was used for 
the storage of sacred objects, as was probably the case in the 
Capitolium, of later date, at Pompeii, where there is a similar con- 
struction carried out in concrete. 9 It is probable that the Capi- 
tolium at Florence hi its first period and Temple C at Marzabotto 
were equipped in the same way. 10 A small model of a temple or 
house from Velletri, now in the Villa Giulia Museum and dated 
by Delia Seta in the VI-V century, has a platform at the rear of 
the cella, with two little compartments under the platform. 11 

8 Religious Experience of the Roman People, p. 265. 

6 Mau-Kelsey, Pompeii, p. 424-425. Fig. 245. 

7 XXXVI, 2, 4. 

8 Delbrueck, Hellenistiche Bauten in Lalium II, 5-10 pis. 4-6. 
Mau-Kelsey, Pompeii, p. 65. Cf. Lake MAAR: XII, 1935, p. 131-134. 

10 Lake, op. cit., p. 93-98, 114-117. 

11 Delia Seta, Museo di Villa Giulia, p. 213, no. 12641. 


What is the basic idea which underlies the connection between 
two such different meanings for the same word as couch and plat- 
form? Pulvinus from which pulvinar is derived usually means a 
cushion, and pulvinar is interpreted as the couch upon which 
cushions are laid. 12 But in the agricultural writers we find that 
pulvinus can also mean a mound or a dike. 18 Apparently it can 
refer to something elevated above the ground level, and the same 
meaning can be carried over to the derivative. Pulvinar would 
then have a secondary meaning of couch, which became the com- 
mon one. 

With these considerations in mind, we can perhaps expand the 
interpretation of pulvinar as the platform within the temple to a 
wider meaning, in order to explain some other curious references. 
Livy hi Book XXIV, 10, 13, tells us that, after certain prodigies 
had been expiated at the instructions of the haruspices, a suppli- 
catio was held omnibus deis quorum pulvinaria Romae essent. This 
might be interpreted as meaning all the gods in Rome who pos- 
sessed ceremonial couches and could be included in Greek ritual. 
Since however the l&ctisternium of 217 B.C. had shown before this 
that distinctions were no longer being carefully drawn between 
Greek and native gods, one would scarcely expect to find such a 
limitation being imposed in this case. On the other hand we can- 
not imagine that the gods whose images were supported by plat- 
forms formed a category of their own. Apparently in this case 
pulvinar has a wider meaning which includes the basic idea of an 

We know that in Rome there were many cult places which were 
not temples. The Ara Maxima, the Ara Pacis, the altar of Mars 
in the Campus Martius, the old Apollinar in the Prata Flaminia, 
and the Volcanal are examples. 14 In many places in Italy there 
have been found cult places, such as the two altars, B and D, at 
Marzabotto, 16 and the tomb of Romulus in the Forum, ^ which con- 
sist simply of a platform with no superstructure. I would suggest 

12 A. Walde, Lateinisches Etymologisches Worterbuch 2 . s. v. pulvinus. 

13 Varro, R. R. I, 35, 1. Col, XI, 3, 20. For other rare usages of a similar 
nature, see Col. I, 6, 13, Vitruv, V, 12, 3. In the latter pulvinus is used to refer 
to the foundation of a pier. 

14 For bibliography see Platner-Ashby, Topographical Dictionary. 

15 For description and bibliography, see Lake, MAAR, XII, 1935, p. 145. 

16 For bibliography see Platner-Ashby, Topographical Dictionary, s. v. Sepul- 
crum Romuli. 


that pulvinar might as a technical term include all cult places raised 
above the level of the ground, whether or not a superstructure were 
added. The convention of building temples upon high podia not 
only points to the importance attached to such elevation in Roman 
religion, but also explains how temples could be included under the 
definition of pulvinaria. Such an interpretation would also explain 
the nature of the sanctuary on the Quirinal, known as the pulvinar 
Solis." As a technical phrase, then, ad omnia pulvinaria would 
have a slightly different shade of meaning from the common ad 
omnia templa. Templum is often used by the ancient writers in a 
general way as the equivalent of aedes, but strictly speaking it 
may refer to any consecrated area, such as the templum marked 
out for the taking of the auspices, and need not refer to a place of 
worship. Aedes refers to the actual shrine. Pulvinar would then 
be something between the two: a cult place, probably a templum, 
which might or might not have an aedes, but always was elevated 
above the ground. 18 It would moreover probably be a type of 
sanctuary native to Italy, without any Gireek connections. 

In attempting to prove that the supplicatio first gained official 
status under the Graecus ritus, Wissowa states as his second point 
that the ceremony was usually decreed after the consultation of 
the Sibylline books by the Decemviri sacris fadundis. 19 If this 
were true it would certainly prove that the decemviri had taken 
over the supplicatio and probably adapted it to Greek ritual, but 
the facts do not seem to support such an hypothesis. In the tune 
of Cicero we find that the supplicatio is a very common occurrence, 

17 Jordan Huelsen, Topographic I, 3, 406. Koch (Gestirnverehrung im alien 
IfaKen, Frankfurter Studien zur Religion und Kultur der Antike, Band HI, 1933, 
pp. 30-33) denies the Greek origin of this cult, which was affirmed by Wissowa. 
(Religion und Kultutf, p. 316 ff.) He associates the pulvinar solis with the pulvi- 
naria of the Circus Maximus and points out the Etruscan connections of the Circus 
games. According to the theory suggested in this paper, however, these pulvi- 
naria would be simply platforms in the Circus on which the representations of the 
gods were placed during the games. If this is true, there is no connection between 
the pulvinaria of the circus and the couch depicted in the Tomba del letto 
Funebre, and the latter can no longer be used as evidence for the Etruscan 
origin of the games. 

18 This interpretation would explain the confusion in the mind of Servius when 
he says (Geor., Ill, 332) "nam ita et pulvinaria pro templis ponimus cum sint 
proprie lectuli. ..." He is aware of the wider meaning of pulvinar but confuses 
it with the idea of the words. 

19 Religion und Kuttus, p. 424. 


but is little more than an official thanksgiving, decreed in every 
case by the senate. 20 By this time it had apparently become the 
rule that a suppUcatio was decreed in the name of a particular 
man, in order to honor his military achievement. Cicero points 
with pride to the suppUcatio held hi his name after he suppressed 
the Catilinarian conspiracy, emphasing the fact that he was then 
a togatus, not a soldier. 21 

In order to trace the development of the suppUcatio which re- 
sulted in the type of celebration customary at the end of the 
Republic, I have collected all the instances of a suppUcatio which 
I have been able to find in the extant books of Livy. All together 
they number sixty. 22 In twenty of these cases we are specifically 
told that the senate ordered the celebration; hi twenty-one cases 
some phrase such as suppUcatio indicia, decreta, or habita is used, 
which would imply that the senate had ordered it; in two cases 
the suppUcatio was celebrated at the suggestion of the pontifs; 
in seventeen cases the decemviri recommended the celebration. In 
other words the decemviri influenced little more than a quarter of 
the instances in which a suppUcatio was held. A further analysis 
of the statistics presents some more interesting conclusions. Up 
to the end of book XXXIII twenty-nine supplicationes are recorded, 
of which only two were suggested by the decemviri, one in Book XXI, 
and the other in Book XXII. It is recorded in Book XXXIV 
that hi 193 B.C. an emergency arose, because there were so many 
earthquakes that the consuls' entire time was taken up in services 
of expiation, and the business of the state came to a standstill. 
The. decemviri were called upon and ordered a suppUcatio ad omnia 
pulvinaria, which was performed by citizens who are now for the 
first tune described as coronati. After this time, up to the end of 
Book XLV thirty-three supplicationes are recorded. Fifteen of 
these were suggested by the decemviri, seven in the 4th decade and 
eight in the fifth. In other words, until 193 B.C. the decemviri 
very rarely suggested a suppUcatio, but did so quite frequently 
after that date. They had however in no way monopolized the 
institution. It is interesting to note also that while we have re- 
corded thirteen supplicationes held during the second Punic War, 

20 See references under Supplicatio, Merguet, Lexikm zu den Reden des Cicero, 
v. IV. 

21 In Pisonem, 6. 

22 For the numbers given here see the references compiled in the table on p. 250. 


only two of these are connected with the decemviri. In view of 
this fact we can scarcely accept Warde Fowler's idea that the 
supplicatio was one of the points upon which the exotic influence 
of the decemviri seized during the hysterical days of the war. 28 

From the statistics outlined above it seems a reasonable conclu- 
sion that the supplicatio was not closely connected with the 
decemviri. We have already seen that the pulvinaria are not 
necessarily indications of Greek influence. Both arguments for the 
position of the supplicatio under the Graecus Ritus have thus been 
very materially weakened. The supplicatio appears rather to have 
been a regular part of the Roman ritual, which the decemviri advised 
more and more frequently after the end of the Hannibalic war. 
They occasionally introduced into it elements from Greek ritual, 
but these were not permanent additions to the ceremony for we 
hear nothing of them when the senate had decreed the celebration. 
An example of this introduction of new elements may be seen in 
the custom of wearing wreaths during the supplicatio. 

In discussing the supplicatio Wissowa says: "Die Bekranzung 
aller Teilnehmer, die nur bei auf Geheiss der Sibyllinischen Bucher 
angeordneten Supplicationen erwahnt wird sicher griechischen 
Brauche entlehnt." 24 What was the connection between the cus- 
tom of wearing a wreath and the supplicatio? Some light may 
be shed on this point by the well known story of Q. Fabius Pictor's 
trip to the oracle at Delphi. 26 Livy says that in 216 B.C. he 
returned to Rome with a written answer, in which was stated, 
Divi divaeque . . . quibus quoque modo supplicaretur. After reading 
the oracle to the Senate he reported that he had sacrificed at Delphi 
to the gods involved, and that, at the special order of the priest, 
he had done so wearing a laurel wreath. He had not laid the 
wreath aside until he arrived in Rome where he placed it, doubtless 
a little the worse for wear, upon the altar of Apollo. The senate 
then decreed, Eae res divinae supplicationesque primo quoque tern- 
pore cum cura fierent. The wearing of the wreath which played so 
large a part in his own rites must have been one of the details in- 
cluded in the message which Fabius brought back with him, and 
must therefore have been observed in the subsequent celebrations 

23 Religious Experience of the Roman People, p. 314-331. 

24 P. W. s. v. Supplicationes. The instances on which the people were coronati 
are recorded in Livy, XXXIV, 55, 4; XXXVI, 37, 5; XL, 37, 3; XLIII, 13, 8. 

26 Livy, XXII, 57; XXIII, 11. 


in Rome. It has been suggested that Fabius was one of the decem- 
viri, and while this cannot be proved it seems highly probable. 
The interest which the college showed in this detail of ritual, when 
they introduced it into later supplicationes may be traced to the 
influence of Fabius. 

The results of the foregoing discussion may be summarized by 
saying that neither the phrase ad omnia pulvinaria nor the connec- 
tion with the decemviri prove the existence of Greek elements in the 
supplicatio. It was a native Roman rite, which might be celebrated 
in any place in which a cult was carried on. The pulvinar was 
probably a native place of worship, and the application of the term 
to the couch used in Greek ritual was a later development. The 
connection of the decemviri with the supplicatio was the exception 
rather than the rule, and theh" influence, in details such as the in- 
troduction of the wreath into the ritual, was only shown on special 

Table of Supplicationes Recorded by Livy 

Decreed on Held at Authority 

Authority of Suggestion of Unspecified 

Senate Decemviri 

III, 7, 7. X, 45, 1. 

V, 23, 3. X, 47, 7. 

X, 23, 1. 

XXII, 1, 16. XXI, 62, 6, 9. XXI, 17, 4. 

XXIII, 11, 6. XXII, 9, 10. XXIV, 10, 13. 

XXVII, 51, 8. XXV, 7, 9. 

XXVIII, 11, 5. XXVII, 4, 15. 

XXVII, 11, 6. 
XXVII, 23, 7. 

XXX, 1,11. XXXIV, 55,3. XXX, 40,4. 

XXX, 17, 3. XXXV, 9, 5. XXXI, 9, 6. 

XXX, 21, 10. XXXVI, 37, 5. XXXII, 9, 4. 

XXXI, 8,2. XXXVII, 3, 5. XXXIII, 37, 9. 

XXXII, 1, 14. XXXVIII, 36, 4. XXXV, 21, 2. 

XXXII, 31, 6. XXXVIII, 44, 7. XXXV, 40, 7. 

XXXIII, 24, 4. XXXIX, 46, 5. 
XXXIVj 42, 1. 

XXXVI, 2, 2-6. 

XXXVI, 21, 9. 

XXXVII, 47,^4. 

26 Diels, Sybyttimsche Blatter, pp. 11, 13. 


Decreed on Held at Authority 

Authority of Suggeiiionof Unspecified 

Senate Decemviri 

XL, 28, 9. XL, 19, 4. XL, 2, 4. 

XLV,2,8. XL, 37, 3. XL, 53, 3. 

XL, 45, 5. XLI, 9, 7. 

XLI, 21, 10. XLI, 13, 3. 

XLII, 2, 6. XLI, 28, 1. 

XLII, 20, 2. XLI, 28, 2. 

XLIII, 13, 8. XLII, 20, 6. 

XLV, 16, 6. 

Svggution of 

XXVII, 37, 4. 
XXXIX, 22, 4. 



Bryn Mawr College 

Greek and Roman religious ceremony, like religious ceremony in 
general, was constantly concerned with securing the presence of the 
gods. Sometimes there were very concrete preparations to receive 
the gods. Couches and tables were prepared for banquets to which 
the gods were summoned. Again thrones and chairs were made 
ready for the gods to witness spectacles given in then* honor. For 
such banquets and spectacles the couches and chairs were prepared 
with due ritual and equipped with cushions and drapery and images 
or symbols of the gods. 

Although Greek inscriptions record the draping of couches and 
chairs for these ceremonies, we must go to Roman religious language 
to find the special words, lectisternium and sellisternium, for their 
preparation. The lectisternium, a banquet at which couches were 
prepared for a number of divinities, was celebrated at intervals in 
the fourth and third centuries, beginning in the year 399 B.C. 
The ceremony followed not Roman religious traditions but the 
Greek rite, and, like all Greek ritual at Rome, it was under the 
direction of the priests of the Greek Sibylline oracles. Sellisternia 
too, the preparation of chairs for the gods, were, at least in the 
secular games, carried out under the Greek rite. 1 The thrones of 
the gods were cushioned and draped and provided with symbols 
of the gods. The drapery, Festus tells us, consisted of Babylonian 
coverlets called soliaria. 2 Such chairs were used for seats of god- 
desses, whom Greek and Roman ritual did not permit to recline at 
banquets. But they were also used for both gods and goddesses 
as seats to enable them to witness spectacles in then* honor. The 

1 On the lectisternium see the articles by Wissowa in Pauly-Wissowa and by 
BoucheXLeclercq in Daremberg and Saglio. On the sellisternium see the articles 
by L. R. Taylor and A. L. Abaecherli, Class. Phil XXX (1935), 122 if.; 131 ff. 
The sellisternia of the secular games are recorded in C. I. L. VI, 32323-9 and in 
the new inscription published in Notizie degli Scavi, 1931, 313 ff. 

2 Festus, p. 386 L. Soliar sternere dicuntur, qui sellisternium habent, et 
sol<i>aria vocantur Babylonica, quibus eadem sternuntur. 



chairs of gods and goddesses were carried in the procession to the 
Roman theatre at the scenic games. We have our fullest evidence 
for them hi the records of the emperors who had their chairs taken 
to the Roman theatre with the chairs of the gods. 8 There are in 
Munich three marble seats (Fig. 1) draped for a sellisternium, and 
on two series of Flavian coins there are representations of the chairs 
draped and adorned with symbols of gods and emperors (Fig. 2). 4 
The seated gods of the theatre are referred to by Lucretius hi a 
line (IV, 79) which has been needlessly emended by scholars who 
have not understood it. The red and yellow and blue awnings of 
the theatre, Lucretius says, dye with color the outlines of the stage 
and the figures of fathers and mothers and gods: 

Scaenai speciem patrum matrumque deorum 


Ritual at Rome made careful provision for the draping of couches 
and chairs, charging with the task important people hi the state, 
the senators for the kctisternium of Saturn hi 217 B.C., 8 the hundred 
and ten representative matrons with the empress at their head for 
the sellisternia of the secular games. The rites, following as they 
did the provisions of Greek ritual, may in themselves be taken as 
evidence for similar rites in Greek cities with which Rome had 
come in contact. For the leclisternium there is, moreover, Greek 
evidence to show that the ceremony was familiar in the fifth 
century; 6 for the sellisternium the Greek evidence is, as we shall 

3 Dio XLIV, 6, 3; cf. LIII, 30, 6; LVIII, 4, 4; LXXI, 31, 2; LXXIII, 17, 4; 
LXXIV, 4, 1; Tac. Ann. II 83. 

4 Fig. 1 is from G. M. A. Richter, Ancient Furniture, Fig. 285. See Furt- 
wangler, Glyptothek, nos. 327, 346, 347. On two of the chairs are traces of the 
symbols which were once placed on them. The seats were found in Rome on 
the Caelian. Fig. 2 shows aurei of Titus and Domitian from Mattingly, Coins 
of the Roman Empire in the British Museum, PI. 45 and 46. a. Winged thunder- 
bolt of Jupiter on draped sella; b. Helmet of Minerva on draped sella; c. Bisellium 
with wreath, for the living emperor?; d. Fastigium imperatoris on draped sella, 
for deified emperor (probably Vespasian). For the interpretation of the symbols 
on the coins see Mattingly, pp. LXXII ff. and Abaecherli, op. cit. The evidence 
for other coins and reliefs representing sellisternia is cited in the articles by Abae- 
cherli and Taylor. 

5 Livy XXII, 1, 19, et eum lectum senatores straverunt. 

6 Herod. VI, 127; Pindar, Olymp. 3, especially 1-34; Nem. 10, 49 ff.; Eur. 
Helen, 1666. See F. Deneken, De Theoxeniis (1881). A fifth century lekythos 
from Cameiros (now in the British Museum, B. 633) shows a theoxenia of the 

Fig. 1. Marble Seat in Munich. 

Fig. 2. Flavian Coins. 


chairs of gods and goddesses were carried in the procession to the 
Roman theatre at the scenic games. We have our fullest evidence 
for them in the records of the emperors who had their chairs taken 
to the Roman theatre with the chairs of the gods. 3 There are in 
Munich three marble seats (Fig. 1) draped for a sellisternium, and 
on two series of Flavian coins there are representations of the chairs 
draped and adorned with symbols of gods and emperors (Fig. 2). 4 
The seated gods of the theatre are referred to by Lucretius in a 
line (IV, 79) which has been needlessly emended by scholars who 
have not understood it. The red and yellow and blue awnings of 
the theatre, Lucretius says, dye with color the outlines of the stage 
and the figures of fathers and mothers and gods : 

Scaenai speciem patrum matrumque deorum 


Ritual a,t Rome made careful provision for the draping of couches 
and chairs, charging with the task important people in the state, 
the senators for the lectisternium of Saturn in 217 B.C., 5 the hundred 
and ten representative matrons with the empress at their head for 
the sellisternia of the secular games. The rites, following as they 
did the provisions of Greek ritual, may in themselves be taken as 
evidence for similar rites in Greek cities with which Rome had 
come in contact. For the lectisternium there is, moreover, Greek 
evidence to show that the ceremony was familiar in the fifth 
century; 6 for the sellisternium the Greek evidence is, as we shall 

3 Dio XLIV, 6, 3; cf. LIII, 30, 6; LVIII, 4, 4; LXXI, 31, 2; LXXIII, 17, 4; 
LXXIV, 4, l;Tac. Ann. II 83. 

4 Fig. 1 is from G. M. A. Richter, Ancient Furniture, Fig. 285. See Furt- 
wiingler, Glyptothek, nos. 327, 346, 347. On two of the chairs are traces of the 
symbols which were once placed on them. The seats were found in Rome on 
the Caelian. Fig. 2 shows aurci of Titus and Domitian from Mattingly, Coins 
of the Roman Empire in the British Museum, PI. 45 and 46. a. Winged thunder- 
bolt of Jupiter on draped sella; b. Helmet of Minerva on draped sella; c. Bisellium 
with wreath, for the living emperor?; d. Fastigiwn impemtoris on draped sella, 
for deified emperor (probably Vespasian). For the interpretation of the symbols 
on the coins see Mattingly, pp. LXXII ff. and Abaecherli, op. cit. The evidence 
for other coins and reliefs representing sellisternia is cited in the articles by Abae- 
cherli and Taylor. 

5 Livy XXII, 1, 19, et eum lectum senatores straverunt. 

8 Herod. VI, 127; Pindar, Olymp. 3, especially 1-34; Nem. 10, 49 ff.; Eur. 
Helen, 1666. See F. Deneken, DC Theoxeniis (1881). A fifth century lekythos 
from Cameiros (now in the British Museum, B. 633) shows a theoxenia of the 

Fig. 1. Marble Scat in Munich. 

Fig. 2. Flavian Coins. 


see, less abundant and later in date. Although there are no Greek 
words exactly corresponding to kctisterniwn and sellisternium, the 
two ceremonies seem both to be included in the Greek word Ofo&via, 
entertainment of the gods. 7 

The seated gods and goddesses of the east frieze of the Parthe- 
non have long been recognized as spectators at the festival hi prog- 
ress, but Furtwangler was the first to see in the figures on the left 
hi the central relief (Fig. 3) the preparation of the seats of the gods. 8 
Two maidens hold on their heads backless chairs, diphroi, on which 
there are cushions. The first maiden has in her left hand an object 
which is generally identified as a footstool such as often accom- 
panied the seats of the gods. To the right of the second maiden 
is a dignified figure of a woman whose right hand is placed beneath 
the chair on the maiden's head. The woman seems about to take 
the chair from the maiden. Next to the woman, with his back 
toward her, stands a bearded man holding a large folded cloth or 
mantle. Beside him with his hands on the cloth is a boy. This 
scene adjoins the seated divinities who have their backs turned 
toward the central scene. 

Since Furtwangler's discussion of the frieze appeared, most schol- 
ars have accepted his interpretation of the figures on the left. 9 
The two maidens are bringing to the woman, presumably the 
priestess of Athena Polias, chairs such as were needed for the divini- 
ties seated on either side. All of them except Zeus, who is on a 
thronos, are seated on diphroi. One of them, Dionysus, clearly has 
on his diphros a cushion such as we see on the two chairs on the 
heads of the maidens. The two maidens advancing with chairs are 
typical of a procession of maidens bringing chairs for all the gods. 

Dioscuri. Cf. Reseller's Lexikon, I, 1169-70. For the lectisternium in Etruria 
see Messerschmidt's interpretation of the fifth century Tomba del letto funebre at 
Tarquinii, Studi Etruschi III (1929), 519 ff. 

7 Theoxenia is defined by Hesychius as Kotvfi loprii iravi rots Beols. See Schol. 

vet. Find. 01. 3, introduction: Qcoj-cvlwv iopral vap' EXXqo-t? otfrws ^TrtreXoOprat 
Kara nvas wpier/iej'as f/^kpas, ws O.VTWV T&V Bcuv ticSijuobvTwv rats irb\t<nv. See 
Pfister s. v. Theoxenia, Pauly-Wissowa. Although banquets of the gods (lecti- 
sternio) seem to have been the chief feature of the Theoxenia, the festivals at 
Delphi and Pellene may well have provided the gods with seats to witness the 

8 Masterpieces of Greek Sculpture (edited by Eugenie Sellers, 1895), 427 ff. 

9 An exception is Deubner, Atlische Feste (1932), 30 ff ., esp. 31, n. 14. 


According to Furtwangler's interpretation, the figures at the right 
have no connection with this scene. Here he follows the traditional 
view and holds that the heavy piece of stuff is the peplos woven 
every four years by maidens for Athena and presented to her at 
the Great Panathenaic festival. The scene, according to Furt- 
wangler, represents an episode which took place after the procession 
arrived at its destination; it is the delivery of the peplos. 

But archaeologists have by no means agreed that the scene can 
be described as the delivery of the peplos. As A. H. Smith says 
in his description of the relief, 10 "The action represented is not one 
of either giving or receiving. From the peculiar way in which the 
boy grips an angle of the folded cloth between his elbow and his 
side, while his hands are otherwise occupied, the act of folding the 
cloth square seems to be represented. The portion nearest to the 
spectator is being dropped down till its edges coincide with those 
of the lower part." 

If the scene is the delivery of the peplos, a number of questions 
present themselves. 11 Why is the peplos being folded? And why 
is the precious garment, the work of maidens, hi the hands of a 
man and a boy? Why does the priestess of Athena have no part 
in receiving the peplos! Why does Athena herself, who is seated 
beside the figures handling the robe, turn her back on a scene of 
such importance in her worship? Why is the elaborate design of 
the peplos not indicated in the relief? Finally, what connection is 
there between the preparation of the seats and the delivery of the 

The view that the folded robe is the peplos of Athena is in accord 
with the widespread belief that the Parthenon frieze represents the 
Panathenaic procession. The presentation of the peplos was, with 
the sacrifice to Athena, the chief religious feature of the Great Pana- 
thenaia and might fittingly be given a prominent position in a rep- 
resentation of the festival. But actually, though it is tempting to 
identify the procession on the frieze with the greatest of Athena's 
festivals, there is no definite evidence as to the subject of the 
Parthenon frieze. 12 The relief may show some other procession, 

10 Sculptures of the Parthenon (1910), Text, p. 53. 

11 See Jane Harrison, Classical Review IX (1895), p. 53. 

12 Since the appearance of Michaelis' great work, Der Parthenon (1871), there 
seems to have been general agreement with the view, first suggested by Stuart, 
that the frieze represents the Fanathenaic procession. In the twenty years pre- 


for example one which took place at the dedication of the Parthe- 
non. 18 In any case it is desirable to find an explanation of the 
central relief which gives more unity to the scene than can be pro- 
vided by the strange juxtaposition of the preparation of the gods' 
seats and the delivery of the peplos. 

Such an explanation was suggested by Ernst Curtius 14 soon after 
Furtwangler published his explanation of the chair-bearers. Cur- 
tius explained the cloth as a carpet to be spread before the chairs 
of the gods. For such a use of a carpet he cited an inscription of 
Magnesia on the Maeander which provides that xoana of the twelve 
gods hi festive attire were to be carried hi procession to a tholos 
constructed for them near the altar of the twelve gods in the agora 
and that three ffrpu^vai were to be prepared for them in it. 18 The 
ffrpunvai were, Curtius held, carpets. This interpretation, though 
strongly defended by Jane Harrison 16 because of the unity it gave 
to the scene, was effectively disproved by Furtwangler 17 who showed 
that the ffrpunvai of the Magnesian inscription were strati lecti and 
that the ceremony was a lectisternium at which the gods were 
feasted. Furtwangler further pointed out that, although the 
Greeks made constant use of coverings for couches and chairs, they 
did not spread carpets on the floor or on the ground. The robe of 
the east frieze cannot then be a floor carpet, nor can it, Furt- 
wangler continues, be intended for a couch for "the gods are invited 
to sit, not to recline." 

The obvious suggestion is that the robe was to be used as drapery 
for one of the chairs of the gods. The use of drapery on thrones 
and stools is frequently represented on sculpture and vases. 18 There 
are thrones with hanging drapery on the pediment and the frieze 
of the Nereid Monument. 19 The thrones of Zeus and Hera on the 

ceding the appearance of Michaelis' book there was an active controversy in 
which Botticher, Chr. Petersen, and Ronchaud argued for other interpretations 
of the frieze. See Michaelis, 205 ff . 

13 See Ronchaud, Phidias, 342 ff . Against this suggestion see Chr. Petersen. 
Zeitschr. f. d. Altertumswissenschaft, 1857, p. 215. 

u Arch. Am. 1894, p. 181. 

15 Dittenberger, Sylloge 3 , 589 (196 B.C.). 

16 Op. cit. 

17 Class. Rev. IX (189, 274 ff. 

18 See Richter, op. tit., Fig. 1, 6, 26, 34, 40, 103, 113, 121, 136. 

19 Brunn-Bruckmann, Denkmdler griechischer und romischer Skulptur, PI. 217, 


Frangois vase are completely covered on back and sides with 
hangings. 20 Stools as well as thrones are frequently draped. 
Usually the drapery is less ample than would have been provided 
by the large robe on the Parthenon frieze, 21 but Fig. 1 shows how 
heavy drapery could be used on a seat which had no back. Some- 
tunes there is a folded cloth instead of a cushion on seats. An 
excellent example is provided by the east pediment of the Parthenon 
(Fig. 4) where there are heavy folded robes on the chests on which 
the two goddesses usually identified as Demeter and Persephone 
are seated. 22 Thinner coverings which may well be folded cloths 
are used on the seats of the gods represented hi another relief show- 
ing gods enthroned for a festival, the east frieze of the Treasury 
of the Siphnians at Delphi. 23 The same thing seems to be true of 
several of the seats of divinities in the east frieze of the Parthenon, 
for instance the two figures usually identified as Apollo and Nep- 
tune. 24 On the other hand the heavy drapery on Aphrodite's seat 
(Fig. 5) is arranged more like that on the Flavian coins. 25 

For the preparation of chairs with drapery there is evidence 
hi Homer. When Athena came to Ithaca, Telemachus seated her 
on a goodly carven throne and spread a linen cloth on it; beneath 
was a footstool for her feet. 28 In Lacedaemon, Helen's handmaids 

20 Kichter, fig. 26 (Furtwangler-Reichhold, Griechische Vasenmakrei, PL 11 
and 12). 

21 The great size of the robe, much too large for the ancient olive wood image of 
Athena, has troubled scholars who have identified it with the peplos of Athena. 

22 Fig. 4 is a detail from Smith, op. cit. PL 3. Miss Ann Hoskin called my 
attention to this example which I had overlooked. Another example of a folded 
robe is probably to be found in Richter, Fig. 1, one of a series of terracotta plaques 
from Locri Epizephyrii (now in the Syracuse Museum). Several of them show 
the dedication of peploi to a goddess. See Orsi, Boll. d'Arte, III (1909), 406 ff. 

28 Ch. Picard and P. de la Coste Messeliere, Fouilles de Delphes, IV, 2 (1928), 
p. 107 say of the chair covering of Athena and the goddess to the left of her, 
"coussin . . . se pre"sentant comme un carr4 d'e"toffe souple." For other divinities 
witnessing a festival compare the frieze of the so-called Theseum, Brunn-Bruck- 
mann, PL 406, 407. 

24 A. H. Smith, op. cit., PL 36. 

25 From the restoration in A. H. Smith, Text, p. 54, Fig. 102. For this figure, 
the original of which is preserved today only in fragments, we are dependent on 
Fauvel's mould. 

26 Od. I, 130-2. din)" $' & Opbvov el<rev &yuv fao Xtra ir6rd<r<ra?, 

Ka\6v daid&\eov inrb de dprjvvs irofflv Jjtv. 
Trip d' abros K\I<TH&V Bkro voiid\ov. 

Fig. 3. Central Relief, East Frieze of Parthenon. 

Fig. 4. Detail from East Pediment of Parthenon. 


Frangois vase are completely covered on back and sides with 
hangings. 20 Stools as well as thrones are frequently draped. 
Usually the drapery is less ample than would have been provided 
by the large robe on the Parthenon frieze, 21 but Fig. 1 shows how 
heavy drapery could be used on a seat which had no back. Some- 
times there is a folded cloth instead of a cushion on seats. An 
excellent example is provided by the east pediment of the Parthenon 
(Fig. 4) where there are heavy folded robes on the chests on which 
the two goddesses usually identified as Demeter and Persephone 
are seated. 22 Thinner coverings which may well be folded cloths 
are used on the seats of the gods represented in another relief show- 
ing gods enthroned for a festival, the east frieze of the Treasury 
of the Siphnians at Delphi. 23 The same thing seems to be true of 
several of the seats of divinities in the east frieze of the Parthenon, 
for instance the two figures usually identified as Apollo and Nep- 
tune. 24 On the other hand the heavy drapery on Aphrodite's seat 
(Fig. 5) is arranged more like that on the Flavian coins. 25 

For the preparation of chairs with drapery there is evidence 
in Homer. When Athena came to Ithaca, Telemachus seated her 
on a goodly carven throne and spread a linen cloth on it; beneath 
was a footstool for her feet. 26 In Lacedaemon, Helen's handmaids 

20 Richter, fig. 26 (Furtwangler-Reiehhold, Griechische Vasenmalerei, PI. 11 
and 12). 

21 The great size of the robe, much too large for the ancient olive wood image of 
Athena, has troubled scholars who have identified it with the peplos of Athena. 

22 Fig. 4 is a detail from Smith, op. cit. PI. 3. Miss Ann Hoskin called my 
attention to this example which I had overlooked. Another example of a folded 
robe is probably to be found in Richter, Fig. 1, one of a series of terracotta plaques 
from Locri Epizephyrii (now in the Syracuse Museum). Several of them show 
the dedication of peploi to a goddess. See Orsi, Boll. d'Arte, III (1909), 406 ff. 

23 Ch. Picard and P. cle la Coste Messeliere, Fouilles de Delphes, IV, 2 (1928), 
p. 107 say of the chair covering of Athena and the goddess to the left of her, 
"coussin . . . se presentant comme un carr6 d'e"toffe souple." For other divinities 
witnessing a festival compare the frieze of the so-called Theseum, Brunn-Bruck- 
mann, PI. 406, 407. 

24 A. H. Smith, op. cit., PL 36. 

25 From the restoration in A. H. Smith, Text, p. 54, Fig. 102. For this figure, 
the original of which is preserved today only in fragments, we are dependent on 
Fauvel's mould. 

26 Od. I, 130-2. avrriv d' Opovov eltrev ajuv viro Xtra 

KO.\OV dai5a\eov' into 5e dprjvvs iroffiv fjev. 
vap 5' avros KXr/i6v Qkro Trotid\ov. 

Fig. 3. Central Relief, East Frieze of Parthenon. 

Fig. 4. Detail from East Pediment of Parthenon. 


placed for her her well-wrought chair and spread on it a rug of soft 
wool. 27 In the palace of Alcinoos there were thrones for the 
Phaeacian nobles against the wall, and on them were light coverings, 
the work of women. 28 The word used here for the coverings is 
Tr&rXoi which hi Homer, as occasionally later, is used for coverlets. 

That the sellisternium the ceremonial preparation of seats for 
the gods was a feature of Greek ritual is, as we have seen, clear 
from the fact that the Roman sellisternium, at least in the secular 
games, followed the Graecus ritus. There was a throne of Zeus in 
the Idaean cave which was draped every year for the god. 29 The 
word used is oTopewfo'ai, the equivalent of the Latin sternere. In 
an inscription from the Piraeus, belonging to the second century 
B.C., the draping of two thrones for Magna Mater and Attis is 
provided for, 80 and in an inscription of Chios there is a record of the 
dedication of some form of drapery, rty arp&Tiiv, and chairs, rds 
*ca0&pas, for the Mother goddess. 81 

On a red-figured vase from Kertch (Fig. 6) there is a scene in 
mythological setting which shows the preparation of a seat for a 
god. Dionysus is receiving Apollo at Delphi, and a woman is 
making ready a chair for the god. The chair, a klismos, is already 
adorned with a rich piece of drapery, and the attendant is placing 
a cushion on it. 82 

The so-called peplos of the Parthenon frieze, really a peplos hi 
the sense in which Homer uses the word, 38 was, I believe, to be used 

27 Od. IV, 123-4. Tj) d' &p' &n' 'ASpfaTT/ /cXioV C&TVKTOV 

'AXfcbnn} & T&irqra <pev juaXaxoD eptoio. 

28 Od. VII, 95-7. Iv Si Bpbvoi irepl TOIXOV kp^kdar' tv6a Kai IvBa 

es (j,vx&v ovSolo Sta^irepej, %vQ' tvl irkirKoi 
\eirroi eiWijTOi jSe/SX^aro, %pya yvvaiKuv. 

See also the description of Penelope's chair, Od. XIX, 55. At a banquet Alex- 
ander seated 6000 officers on silver stools and couches draped with purple robes. 
Cf . Duns ap. Athen. 48 f . 

29 Porphyrius, Pythag. 17. 76? re crropvincvov airy KO.T' ?TOS Bpbvov. The 
throne may have been similar to the rock cut thrones which have been discovered. 
For the one at Phalasarna in Crete see De Sanctis, Mon. Ant. XI, 366 ff . 

30 1. G. z II, 1328, 1. 10. (ff}r(p(a}vvi)tiv Opbvovs 8110 cbs KaXXlorous. 

31 Bull Corr. Hell III, p. 324. 

82 Arch. Zeit. 1866, PI. CCXI, from which Fig. 6 is taken. 

83 The drapery on Chan's might of course serve as a wrap for the occupant. 
In Iliad VI, 88 ff., 269 ff. the Trojan women select from their store the most 
beautiful peplos and place it on the knees of Athena. W. Reichel, Uber vorhel- 
knischer Gotterkutte (1897), 51 ff., suggested that there was no actual image of 


like the soliaria of the Roman selUsternium to adorn the seats of 
the gods. This would explain why it was being folded. It would 
also give an explanation of the entire relief which is consistent with 
artistic unity. I would interpret the scene as a selUsternium. 
Between the rows of gods already enthroned we see the prepara- 
tions which preceded then* enthronement, a scene hi which the 
gods naturally take no interest. Two cushioned chairs have already 
been brought by attendants and a robe is being folded to be placed, 
perhaps like the folded robes on the east pediment, either on one 
of these or on another chair to be brought later. As in the Greek 
rites of the kctisternium and the selUsternium at Rome, officials of 
importance are in charge of the ceremony. The woman is probably 
the priestess of Athena Polias, the man perhaps the archon basileus. 
They are assisted by maidens and a boy, who, like the other boys 
and girls who took part in ancient religious rites, were probably 
children of living parents. 34 The sculptor has given us a unified 
representation of a carefully prescribed ceremonial, the Greek ritual 
which the Romans called the selUsternium. 

The Parthenon was provided with the furniture required for such 
a rite. The inventories of the Parthenon proper for the years 434- 
412 mention, along with a table adorned with ivory and a number 
of Milesian and Chian couches, 12 thrones, 4 diphroi, and 9 folding 
stools. The later collective inventories also include couches, tables, 
thrones, diphroi, folding stools and footstools, all in varying states 
of repair. 86 

Athena, but simply an empty throne. Reichel also believed (cf. p. 20) that the 
peplos of Athena, which he considered too large for the ancient xoanon, was 
intended for an imaginary image. The peplos which women wove every four 
years for Hera of Olympia may have been placed on the knees of the goddess, 
for the cult statue of the Heraeum was a seated figure (cf. Paus. V, 16-17). The 
olive-wood xoanon of the Athenian Acropolis was also probably a seated figure. 
See Frickenhaus, Ath. Mitt. XXXIII (1908), p. 24. For scenes showing the 
dedication of peploi to a goddess see Orsi, op. cit. Fig. 6, 17, 18, 25, 26. 

34 On the diphrophoroi who followed the kanephoroi in processions see Aristo- 
phanes, Birds, 1550 ff. with the scholia on the passage; cf. Suidas, s. v. dtypov 
and Hesychius, s. v. 5i^po^6pot. As Furtwangler points out, Masterpieces, p. 428, 
there is no ancient evidence for the statement found frequently in modern hand- 
books that the diphrophoroi were chosen from the metoikoi. 

36 1. G? I, 276-288; II, 1394, 1421. Cf . H. Lehner, Uber die athenischen Schatz- 
verzeichnisse (1890). Draperies are not mentioned in the Parthenon inventories, 
but they existed in temple stores. Cf. Eurip. Ion, 1141 ff. 


The couches and tables in these inventories were intended for 
banquets of the gods of which the priestess of Athena Polias seems 
to have been in charge. 86 The various types of seats were used either 
for goddesses, who had seats and not couches for banquets, or for 
both gods and goddesses who were enthroned to witness festivals. 
The twelve thrones which were hi the Parthenon proper at the end 
of the fifth century must have been intended for the twelve Olym- 
pians whom we see on the Parthenon frieze. For great festivals 
the priestess of Athena Polias and her associates prepared, with 
the careful ritual which we see on the Parthenon frieze, a concrete 
representation of the presence of the gods. 

The ceremony of the sellisternium required more than the draping 
of the chairs with cushions and cloths. It was necessary to place 
on the chairs images or symbols of the gods, and, as in the lecti- 
sternium of the twelve gods at Magnesia, the images were probably 
decked out in festal attire. In Roman cult, though images of the 
gods were sometimes employed, symbols of the divinities, fashioned 
often of grass or foliage, were commonly used. 87 In Greek cult the 
evidence is, as far as I know, rather scanty, but it would seem that 
sometimes symbols took the place of images. After Alexander's 
death his secretary, the Greek Eumenes, prepared a golden throne 
and adorned it with the king's diadem, sceptre, and armor. 88 
Before it Alexander's generals offered sacrifice and sat hi council. 

It is beyond the scope of this paper to consider the evidence for 
the use of thrones hi Greek cult. 89 But it is worth while to note 
that sometimes, as hi Rome, images of the gods were carried as 
spectators into the Greek theatre. At the Great Dionysia the 
image of Dionysus was carried into the theatre and placed hi a 

86 1. G? II, 776. Her attendants were called Kosmo and Trapezo (or Trapezo- 
phoros). See Harpocration, s. v. rpair^o(f>6pos ', Hesychius, s. v. Tpaircd> ; Bekker, 
Anec. I, 307. Cf. Furtwangler, op. cit., p. 430; Toepffer, Attische Genedogie (1889), 
p. 122. 

87 Cf . Abaecherli, op. cit., 134 ff. 

88 Diodorus XVIII, 61, 1. See Herter, Rhein. Mus. LXXIV (1925), 164 ff. 

89 On the throne cult see Furtwangler, op. cit., 429 ff. where the evidence for 
thrones in Greek temples is cited. See also his discussion of the Amyclae throne 
in the German edition (Meisterwerke, 687 ff.). Cf. Reichel and Herter, op. cit,, 
and the articles on Thronos, by Chapot in Daremberg and Saglio, and by Hug 
in Pauly-Wissowa. The probable eastern origin of the throne cult, discussed 
by Reichel, deserves fuller investigation. 


prominent position. 40 At the celebration of his daughter's marriage 
which Philip of Macedon staged at Delphi, splendidly decked images 
of the gods on thrones were borne into the theatre. With them, 
and like them on a throne, was carried an elaborately adorned 
image of Philip as the thirteenth god. 41 Like the seated divinities 
of the Parthenon frieze, the Olympians, with the king added to 
then 1 number, were given seats to witness a spectacle held in their 
honor. 42 

There is, as far as I know, no scene of Greek or Roman ritual 
which provides a parallel for my interpretation of the Parthenon 
relief. What we see on Roman coins and reliefs is not the actual 
preparation of the throne, but the throne already draped and 
adorned with the symbols of the gods. Such representations, com- 
paratively rare in the Roman period, become very common in 
Christian art. A fifth century sarcophagus from Tusculum has on 
it a draped and cushioned seat. Upon the cushion rests a large 
crown within which is the monogram of Christ. 48 The crown, like 
the garland on a throne represented on a gem in the Berlin mu- 
seum, 44 recalls the crowns or garlands which adorned the chairs of 
the emperor hi the Roman sellisternium. 46 In churches of Rome 
and Italy, usually hi the mosaics of apse or triumphal arch, there 
are representations of seats with or without drapery, which have 
upon them various symbols of Christ the crown, the cross, the 

40 7. G? II, 1006, 12 ff.; 1008, 14 ff.; 1011, 11 ff.; Aristophanes, Knights, 536: 
Kal w Xijpetv AXXa 0ea<r0ai Xwrapiv irapA T$ Aiovucrcp. See Roger's note on the 
line. Like Lucretius IV, 79, this line of Aristophanes has been emended by 
scholars who failed to realize that a statue of the god was carried into the theatre. 

41 Diodorus XVI, 92, 5. <ri>v TCUJ aXXtus rats neyahovpeirfai KaTaoTcevaTs *18- 
a>Xa TWV 6w6eKa 6eu>v tTrbfj-irevt rats re Srjfjitovpylaa irepirrus dpyafffikva Kal TJJ 
\afjLirp6ri)Ti. rov irKobrov dav/jaor&s KCKoarnrifj.&a' ai>v 81 rotorois airov rov $i\lirvov 
rpuTKo.ibkKa.rov kirbuwfvt 8&)irpeirls flSut\ov, avvOpovov iavrov airoSciKvvvros rov 
/3a<nXes rots SwSe/ca fcots. 

42 On this occasion, as hi the scene on the Parthenon frieze, in the Magnesian 
inscription, and in the Roman lectisternium described in Livy XXII, 10, 9 (held 
by the decemviri who were in charge of the Graecus ritus) the twelve gods were 
entertained together. Celebrations like this perhaps gave rise to Hesychius 
definition of Theoxenia as Koivfi loprfi TTOO-I rols Beols. 

43 De Rossi, Bull. Arch. Crist. 1872, PI. VI (cf. 125 ff.) ; reproduced in Leclercq's 
article fitimasie hi Cabrol, Dictionnaire d'Archtologie chretienne et de Uturgie. 

44 Reproduced in Kraus, Reakncyklop&edie der christlichen Altertiimer, I, p. 432. 
Kraus dates it about 400 A.D. 

46 See Fig. 1, c and Abaecherli, op. cit. 










prominent position. 40 At the celebration of his daughter's marriage 
which Philip of Macedon staged at Delphi, splendidly decked images 
of the gods on thrones were borne into the theatre. With them, 
and like them on a throne, was carried an elaborately adorned 
image of Philip as the thirteenth god. 41 Like the seated divinities 
of the Parthenon frieze, the Olympians, with the king added to 
their number, were given seats to witness a spectacle held in their 
honor. 42 

There is, as far as I know, no scene of Greek or Roman ritual 
which provides a parallel for my interpretation of the Parthenon 
relief. What we see on Roman coins and reliefs is not the actual 
preparation of the throne, but the throne already draped and 
adorned with the symbols of the gods. Such representations, com- 
paratively rare in the Roman period, become very common in 
Christian art. A fifth century sarcophagus from Tusculum has on 
it a draped and cushioned seat. Upon the cushion rests a large 
crown within which is the monogram of Christ. 43 The crown, like 
the garland on a throne represented on a gem in the Berlin mu- 
seum, 44 recalls the crowns or garlands which adorned the chairs of 
the emperor in the Roman selUsternium. 45 In churches of Rome 
and Italy, usually in the mosaics of apse or triumphal arch, there 
are representations of seats with or without drapery, which have 
upon them various symbols of Christ the crown, the cross, the 

40 1. G? II, 1000, 12 ff.; 1008, 14 ff.; 1011, 11 ff.; Aristophanes, Knights, 536: 
/cat ny \rjpeLV dXXa 0ea<r0at \iirap6v irapa ra5 Atovucrw. See Roger's note on the 
line. Like Lucretius IV, 79, this line of Aristophanes has been emended by 
scholars who failed to realize that a statue of the god was carried into the theatre. 

41 Diodorus XVI, 02, 5. vvv rats aXXats rats jueyaXoTrptTrecri /caracr/ceuats el'S- 
wXa rdv d&Sfna. 6euv kirbnireve rats re di)/j.iovpyiai,s Treptrrcos elpyaff/jifva /ecu rf) 
Xa/iTrporTjrt TOV TT\OVTOV 0au/*a<mos Ke/cocr^/zeva' aiiv Se rourots aiirou TOV $tXi7T7rou 
Tpiano.ibkKa.rov eTrojuTreue 6fOTrp6ires ei'SwXoi/, ffvvdpovov iavTov aTroSuKVVVTOS TOV 
/SacrtXecus rots 5a>5e/ca Oeols. 

42 On this occasion, as in the scene on the Parthenon frieze, in the Magnesian 
inscription, and in the Roman ledisternium described in Livy XXII, 10, 9 (held 
by the decemviri who were in charge of the Graecus rihis) the twelve gods were 
entertained together. Celebrations like this perhaps gave rise to Hesychius 
definition of Theoxenia as KOIC?) eopri) iracn rois foots. 

43 De Rossi, Bull. Arch. Crist.. 1872, PI. VI (cf. 125 i'f.); reproduced in Leclercq's 
article Etimasie in Cabrol, Dictionnaire d' Archeologic chr&tienne et de liturgie. 

44 Reproduced in Kraus, Realcncyklopaedie der christlichen Altertiimer, I, p. 432. 
Kraus dates it about 400 A.D. 

45 See Fig. 1, c and Abaecherli, op. cit. 


fi* ^A ,.i 

',. j\' ^f \V^ .-.. . 

v >'^"'-v x \ ~?^. 

/)J---.-V^-"i \ V- 


lamb, the roll, or later the book (the gospels). 46 Sometimes, as in 
the mosaics of Sixtus III on the triumphal arch of Santa Maria 
Maggiore, the roll with seven seals shows that the scene was in- 
spired by the throne of the Apocalypse. 47 In Byzantine art there 
developed in the second millenium after Christ 48 a stereotyped form 
of seat, cushioned and draped according to older traditions and 
adorned with the emblems of the passion cross and lance and 
sponge (Fig. 7). 49 This throne, which became a regular feature of 
the Greek Orthodox Church, symbolizes the coming of Christ at 
the Last Judgment. The inscription accompanying it, froinaffla 
TOV Bpbvov, or simply froi/xaoia, is inspired by the throne of judgment 
of the Psalms. 60 It is customary to give the name etimasia to the 
thrones of earlier monuments in East and West, 61 though the sym- 
bols on them often denote not the Second Coming but the actual 
presence of Christ. When at the Council of Ephesus and at the 
Second Council of Nicaea a throne with the gospels upon it was 
placed in the gathering, 62 the bishops were showing by a concrete 

48 For the symbols in the Roman church see Wilpert, Die romischen Mosaiken 
und Malereien der kirchlichen Bauten (1917), Text, I, 57-61. For the throne 
with cross in the early Basilica of St. Peter see p. 365. Other thrones of the 5th 
and early 6th centuries illustrated by Wilpert are that of the Matrona chapel in 
Santo Frisco near Capua (Tafeln, I, 77) draped and cushioned and adorned with 
the seven-sealed roll and the dove; that of Santa Maria Maggiore (see note 47); 
those of the Baptistery of the Orthodox in Ravenna (Tafeln, I, 81-2) a series 
of four draped and cushioned thrones adorned with cross and mantle, between 
which are represented kathedrae holding crowns, and altars on which the gospels 
are placed; that of the Baptistery of the Arians in Ravenna (Tafeln, 1, 101) deco- 
rated with cross and mantle. 

47 Wilpert, Tafeln, I, 70-72. Of. Revelation, ch. 4 and 5. Wilpert (p. 58) 
compares the draped throne (Opbvov ktrrpw^vov) of the vision of St. Maura and 
the seat with linen cushion and drapery in the vision of Hennas (Shepherd of 
Hermas, vis. Ill, 1, 4). 

48 For the date see Wilpert, Text, I, 60. 

49 Fig. 7 is an illustration of a steatite plaque in a private French collection. 
From the publication of Schlumberger, Monuments Piot, IX (1902), PL XX. 

60 Of. Psalms 9, 8: nai 6 /cuptos els r6v aluva fj.&ec fiToLnacrev kv Kplcret, rbv 
Bpbvov abrov. 

61 Wilpert, I. c. and 0. Wulff, Die Koimesiskirche in Nic&a, (1903), 202 ff., 
have protested against this custom and have discussed in some detail the symbolism 
of the earlier thrones. See Wilpert's index, s. v. Thron, for full references. 

62 For the Council of Ephesus see Mansi, Condi. V, p. 241. vvvedpov Si tivirfp 
Miv eTToieiro Xpurr6v t HKCITO yap kv ayl<$ Qpbvq ri> veirrdv "Eiiio.yyk\U)v 
Kal emfiouv rots ayiois Itpovpyots' Kplpa, Slxcuov Kpivare KT\. For the 
Second Council of Nicaea and for other councils at which the same custom seems 
to have been followed see Wulff, op. tit., 230-1. 


representation that Christ was present at the head of the Council. 
The thrones on Christian monuments are an interesting adaptation 
of pagan iconography to ecclesiastical tradition. These chairs with 
their cushions and drapery and then 1 symbols go back to the ancient 
aelUsternium, whose ritual, I believe, we see represented hi the 
east frieze of the Parthenon. 


Yale University 

"Die Forschung iiber das Buch Ezechiel steht heute in einer 
starken Krisis." It is now some ten years back that Prof. Kittel 1 
penned these words as a reaction to the views of Joh. Herrmann 2 
and Gustav Holscher. 3 The "crisis" he mentions and seeks to meet 
is more acute today than ever. Recent publications by C. C. 
Torrey 4 and James Smith, 5 and to a lesser extent such surveys of the 
field as those of Volkmar Herntrich 8 and Curt Kuhl, 7 have brought 
to a definite focus the whole question of our attitude toward the 
book. For, despite great diversity of opinion on the part of these 
modern specialists, on one thesis they unite : No longer can we hold 
to the old and familiar critical dogmas regarding Ezekiel. Seri- 
ously questioned or downright denied is the former view that the 
prophet-priest of Tel-Abib was the "father of Jewish legalism," the 
"inaugurator of the apocalyptic school of thought," and "the most 
influential man <that we find in the whole course of Hebrew history." 8 
Clearly, we must in any event resign the pleasing comfort that 
Ezekiel is the one prophetic book whose perplexities have been 
finally and happily resolved. 

In view of this urgent crisis in interpretation, no Old Testament 
scholar has valid excuse for resting securely "settled on his lees" 
(Jer. 48: 11; Zeph. 1:12) with respect to Ezekiel research. The 
task of coming to grips, definitely and purposefully, with old and 
new problems connected with the book is both immediate and 

1 R. Kittel, Geschichte des Volkes Israel, III, 1927, p. 144. 
2 Ezechielstudien, 1908 and Ezechiel, 1924, (Vol. XI of Sellin's Kommentar 
zum A. T.). 

*Hesekiel, der Dichter und das Buch, 1924 (Beiheft zur ZATW, 39). 

4 Pseudo-Ezekiel and the Original Prophecy, 1930. 

5 The Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, 1931. 

Ezechielprobkme, 1932 (Beiheft zur ZATW, 61). 

7 "Zur Geschichte der Hesekiel-Forschung," Theologische Rundschau, 1933, 
pp. 92-118; notable for its extensive bibliography. 

8 H. P. Smith, Old Testament History, 1903, pp. 326 f . 



urgent. Whether we follow such an one as Holscher in attributing 
by far the greater part of the work to late redactors, or prefer 
Torrey's or perhaps James Smith's course of placing the prophecy 
practically intact in a new setting, we must discover a reasoned 
modus vivendi as to the book. In seeking to "distinguish degrees of 
probability" 9 with respect to the numerous problems concerned 
each will, of course, accord just and due weight to accepted tradi- 
tion. On the other hand, we must mercilessly cross-examine any 
opinion, however venerable or widely received, which fails to account 
satisfactorily for the questions which arise. Only so is there ever 
possibility of advance. 10 The difficulty of the present task is 
clearly indicated by the radical divergence of views held by the 
most careful and competent experts. 

Preliminary to our necessarily abbreviated examination of Eze- 
kiel's place hi Hebrew history, let us tabulate in order some of the 
problems involved. Their importance lies in the fact that only as 
we find the correct solution of them can we hope to achieve a 
tenable view of the book: (a) The relationship of the double dating 
hi 1 : 1-3 to the series of dates running throughout; (b) The prophet 
seems to be addressing hi person a Jerusalemite audience rather 
than, as stated in the headings, a Babylonian; (c) Several important 
sections are repeated; (d) Literary relationships with other books 
are extraordinarily numerous; (e) How account for the incredibly 
accurate, even infallible clairvoyance of Ezekiel?; (f) References to 
Persia occur at a period when that nation has not yet emerged in 
the history of the Hebrew people; (g) The diction is characterized 
by as pervasive an Aramaic flavor as that of several of the latest 
Hebrew books; (h) How interpret the difficult and elusive Jewish 
tradition?; (i) In form and thought the book shows highly developed 
apocalyptic tendencies; (j) What, probably, is the historical back- 
ground mirrored?; and (k) What is the fundamental purpose of the 
writer? Quite a catalogue of question marks to center about a book 
long distinguished for its "Problemlosigkeit!" 11 Fortunately each 
problem serves also as guide to the solution of the Ezekiel enigma. 

The primary object of this paper is to establish definite base 
lines for our guidance in discovering a reasonable explanation of the 

9 Ibid., p. XIII. 

10 See Torrey's reply to Prof. Shalom Spiegel entitled, "Certainly Pseudo- 
Ezekiel," in JBL, LIII (1934), pp. 292 f . 

11 Curt Kuhl, op. tit., p. 115. 


book; and at the risk of seeming arbitrary, we shall state these base 
lines in the form of positive propositions. The first has to do with 
the question of unity. The importance and difficulty of this prob- 
lem must justify a comparatively lengthy discussion. 


Too little weight has been given by recent research to the impor- 
tant fact that, up to at least the turn of the century, the practically 
unanimous verdict of the most competent scholars was that the 
book is clearly the product of a single mind. It has repeatedly been 
shown that an extraordinary and almost monotonous uniformity 
of style pervades .the writing from the first chapter to the last. 
Connected with this is the circumstance that a considerable number 
of. characteristic words and phrases are constantly repeated. For 
example, "son of man," as a title addressed to the prophet, is used 
92 times (elsewhere in the Old Testament, this special usage occurs 
only Dan. 8: 17); "ye shall know that I am Jehovah," 74 tunes; 
"I have spoken it," 49 times; "abominations," 43 times; "gillullm" 
39 times (both these last two are used of idols) ; and "prince" (nasl'), 
37 times. 12 Furthermore, the general organization of the book is 
so logical and consistent as to argue powerfully for its composition 
by only one person. Notice how clear is its outline. Chs. 1-24 
constitute a closeknit unit, in which the call of chs. 1-3 is inevitably 
followed by the prophecies against Jerusalem in 4-24. The second 
half of the book (chs. 25-48) easily divides into the oracles against 
foreign nations (25-32), the apocalyptic picture of future conflict 
and prosperity (33-39) and, finally, the crowning plan for a restored 
land and Temple (40-48). To cap all this weighty evidence, schol- 
ars have called attention to such items as the author's very char- 
acteristic habit of repetition of his important prophecies, his fre- 
quent dependence upon earlier writers, an extreme vividness both 
of imagery and action verging upon the bizarre, and the constant 
presence, easily sensed, of an unusual and dominating personality. 

This mass of evidence has long been recognized as compelling. 
"No critical question arises in connection with the authorship of the 
book," maintains Driver, "the whole from beginning to end bearing 

12 See Driver, LOT, 1912, pp. 297 f.; cp. J. B. Harford's convenient list of words 
and phrases in his Studies in the Book of Eeekiel, 1935, pp. 2-5. 


unmistakably the stamp of a single mind." 13 Even more definite 
is Skinner's verdict. "Not only does it bear the stamp of a single 
mind in its phraseology, its imagery, and its mode of thought," he 
writes, "but it is arranged on a plan so perspicuous and so compre- 
hensive that the evidence of literary design in the composition 
becomes altogether irresistible." 14 Gray testifies thus: "No other 
book of the Old Testament is distinguished by such decisive marks 
of authorship and integrity." 15 Smend's emphatic dictum is fa- 
miliar: "Hochst wahrscheinlich ist das ganze Buch ... in einem 
Zuge niedergeschrieben." 16 Even those scholars who disagreed with 
the setting offered by the book itself have been quite insistent upon 
its unity. The eminent and independent scholar Zunz, 17 whose 
dating of 440-400 B.C. was accepted by A. Geiger, 18 as also Seinecke 
with his identification of Gog with Antiochus Epiphanes (164-3 
B.C.), 19 all agree here. More recently James Smith, who regards 
Ezekiel as a prophet of the Northern Kingdom, 722-669 B.C., has 
stressed the "marked similarity of language and ideas that can be 
accounted for only by the presence throughout of the same per- 
sonality." 20 One may not lightly dismiss such almost unanimous 
witness to unity, based as it is on the most cogent evidence, borne 
by competent scholars representing diverse points of view. 21 

Doubtless this view would still prevail, were it not that certain 
recent students of Ezekiel have supposed it necessary, in view of 
some of the problems listed above, 22 to dissect the book. Now, 
it is one thing to posit diversity of authorship in a document where, 

LOT, p. 279. 

14 Easting's DB, I, 1898, p. 817. 

15 Critical Introduction to the Old Testament, 1924, p. 198. 

u Ezechiel, 1880, p. XXII; on p. XXI he says: "One could not take out a 
single section without destroying the whole ensemble." 

17 Gottesdienstliche Vortrdge der Juden, 1832, pp. 157-162; ZDMG, XXVII, 
1873, pp. 676-681, 688. 

18 Urschrift und Ubersetzungen der Bibel, 1857, p. 23; Nachgelassene Schriften, 
1875, II, p. 83. 

19 Geschichte des Volkes Israel, II, 1884, pp. 1-20. 

20 The Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, 1931, pp. 98 f. 

21 See, in addition, the brief summary of arguments for unity presented by 
C. Kuhl, op. cit., pp. 97 f . W. F. Lofthouse (Israel After the Exile, Clarendon 
Bible, IV, 1928, p. 66) shows that a "psychological sequence," additional evi- 
dence of unity, marks the order of passages within the various sections of the book. 

22 Pp. 269 ff. 


as e.g. in the Pentateuch, a great array of differences make it quite 
clear that only so can we understand the origins of the book. In 
such a case the criteria of diverse style, vocabulary, thought, etc. 
are actually there and fairly obvious to a careful observer. It is 
quite a different matter to magnify the natural unevennesses of 
one writer into evidence for multiple authorship, as a ready way 
to meet the embarrassment occasioned by the presence of problems 
whose solution is not at once manifest. In the latter case, there 
is subtle danger, under the influence of theory, of seeing differences 
which do not in reality exist. It is from this readiness to resort 
freely to the knife that the study of the prophets has suffered in 
late years. 23 

Naturally Ezekiel has in turn, despite ample internal and ex- 
ternal evidence to its unity, been broken up after the customary 
fashion. As far back as 1900, Kraetzschmar 24 made a mild begin- 
ning. He held that the present book is made up of two separate 
recensions of Ezekiel's prophecies, one in the third and another in 
the first person, later woven together by a redactor. The principal 
arguments he adduced were (a) the sudden breaks hi the narrative, 
(b) defective order within many chapters, and especially (c) the 
frequency of parallel texts and doublets. But we must recall that 
sudden breaks and defective order are not at all surprising in an 
ancient Semitic prophecy. Kraetzschmar, moreover, seems to 
overlook the fact that, however strong and deep Ezekiel's religious 
nature and despite a number of excellent poems scattered here and 
there, this prophet can never rank as a first-rate literary artist. 25 
Hence the cruder and more uneven elements in the composition. 
With regard to the parallel passages he lists, why regard it as 
strange that this combination of prophet and priest should repeat 
himself, even to the extent of using again characteristic and effective 
passages from earlier occasions? Similar repetitions are to be found 
in original sections of Jeremiah. For example, his "Temple Ad- 
dress" in 26: 1-6 is evidently a briefer reiteration of previous ad- 
monitions recorded in ch. 7. 26 Compare with this our prophet's 

23 See Torrey's thought-provoking chapter, "The Eclipse of a Great Prophet," 
in his Second Isaiah, 1928, pp. 3-19. 

25 Meinhold, Einfiihrung in das Alte Testament, 9 1932, p. 270; "In Ezechiel 
tritt uns ein Schriftsteller mittlerer Begabung entgegen." 
26 See Torrey, Pseudo-Ezekiel, pp. 48 f . 


repetition in ch. 23 of many statements from the very similar 
oracle in ch. 16. Seinecke 27 conveniently reproduces these in 
parallel columns as an illustration of Efcekiel's "Schreibart." 
Everybody knows that an ancient oriental writer does not share a 
modern occidental author's horror of repetition. 28 Why, then, in 
view of all the evidence for unity, adopt the wholly unnecessary 
theory of two recensions for Ezekiel? Notice an additional grave 
weakness of Kraetzschmar's solution in that his "third person 
recension" seems to depend almost entirely on the insecure founda- 
tion of only two passages, 1 : 3 and 24: 24. 29 

Herrmann's 80 solution of the problem of Ezekiel, be it observed 
in passing, makes the prophet himself the principal, though by no 
means the sole, redactor of his various oracles and collections. 
Thus does this commentator attempt to do justice to the manifest 
unity of the book, while accounting for its difficulties. But he 
assigns far more to later redactors than seems justified by the 
evidence. Nor does his theory really meet the problems of lan- 
guage, clairvoyance, etc. 

When we come to Holscher, 81 we observe the most complete and 
radical breakup of Ezekiel, the ultimate and inescapable "dead end" 
toward which the dissection method tends. Out of some 1272 
verses he rescues a bare 150 or so from the grasp of later supple- 
menters and editors. 32 The chief redactor he places in the fifth 
century. By means of this major redaction the book has been 
made essentially a pseudepigraph, the "Kampfschrift" of the 
Zadokite priesthood hi Jerusalem. 38 Despite many true and keen 
observations, Holscher's work is discredited by undue dependence 
upon logical and esthetic criteria which are purely subjective. 
Particularly open to objection is the arbitrary limitation of Ezekiel's 

27 Pp. 18 f. 

28 Notice the suggestion of M. Burrows (The literary Relations of Ezekiel, 
1925, pp. 104 f.) that the "style of Ezekiel is that of extempore oratory." 

29 See the comment of Oesterley and Robinson, Introduction to the Books of 
the Old Testament, 1934, p. 321. 

80 See note 2 above. 

31 Op. cit. 

52 J. B. Harford, op. cit., pp. 13-20. In this procedure Holscher avowedly 
(p. 5) imitates Duhm's well known treatment of Jeremiah. 

38 Pp. 31-34, 40. Notice that his dating of the redaction corresponds pretty 
accurately (p. 33) with that of Zunz for the whole (pseudepigraphic) book (440- 
400 B.C.). 


genuine message to the form of poetry, especially as some of the 
"poems" Holscher discovers are very strange creatures indeed. It 
is evident that the end results of his researches are too bizarre to 
serve as a recommendation of this method of violent dissection. 84 
Other disciples of this method, but far more restrained in execution, 
are Herntrich 85 and Harford, 36 both of whom divide the book 
between a genuine Ezekiel preaching in Jerusalem, and an alleged 
later follower in the Babylonian exile. 

Two conclusions seem to be suggested by the foregoing dis- 
cussion : first, that the evidence for the essential integrity of Ezekiel 
is so overwhehning and well established as thoroughly to discredit 
its partition by critics; and second, that certain difficulties con- 
nected with the reputed Babylonian background and dating make 
it appear, nevertheless, that the book is not precisely the same as 
when it left its author's hands. As a matter of fact, there is second- 
ary material in Ezekiel, though not nearly to the extent most recent 
authorities imagine. Possibly part of ch. 10 (especially w. 9-17) 
was copied from ch. 1, which Jerome informs us was forbidden 
(together with the end of the book) to Jewish youths under thirty. 87 
But not much else is secondary except that scholars increasingly 
agree that the Babylonian setting and the dating according to 
Jehoiachin's captivity are not original. 88 Somebody, it appears, 

34 See the critiques of Kuhl, T. R., 1933, pp. 104-106 and Herntrich, pp. 7 ff. 
As another illustration of extreme tendencies in dividing Ezekiel, see W. A. Irwin's 
review of Harford hi Jour, of Religion, 1936, p. 209: "In chapter after chapter 
it can easily be demonstrated that we deal with not two but three or even four 
[writers] whose views are pyramided in a series of comments upon comments." 

36 Op. ait. 

36 Pp. 60, 71-72. Notice on p. 56, in the discussion of the refined theory of 
the intrusion of a "foreign body" into chs. 8-11, the entire lack of agreement 
among critics as to what this body is! One cannot base critical conclusions of 
abiding value on such subjective intuitions. Notice, further, the amazing differ- 
ence in the analyses offered by those who dissect the book. If the method were 
right, one would expect some sort of agreement. 

87 The purpose of such a copying of this passage was, of course, to evade the 
Jewish prohibition. See Torrey, JBL, LIII, pp. 296 f . 

88 Berry (JBL, XLIX, 1930, pp. 86 f.) gives reasons for denying Ezekiel's 
presence hi the Exile. Kuhl (pp. 110-115) discusses the growing scepticism as 
to the originality of the datings in then 1 present form; cp. his statement in Theolog. 
Liter aturzeitung, 1932, col. 29, that after twenty years of study of the problem he 
is convinced "dass Hes. kaum Exilsprophet gewesen sein kann . . . , und dass als 
Zeit seiner Wirksamkeit die Begierung Manasses manches fur sich hat." See 
also James Smith, pp. 15 ff. 


took the daring step of transferring this prophecy, obviously ad- 
dressed to a Jerusalem audience, into the setting of the Babylonian 
exile. In a penetrating study of the datings Torrey, 89 taking as 
point of departure the double dating in 1: 1-3, offers the con- 
jecture that the datings, together with a few other slight retouch- 
ings, are the contribution of a redactor belonging to the Chronicler's 
school, who was concerned to show that the Jewish captives carried 
on their community life intact in Babylonia. He further shows 
that originally the dates followed a perfect sequence, corresponding 
to the acknowledged original dating in the 30th year (of King 
Manasseh?) in 1: I. 40 It has been this mischievous alteration of 
the setting by the ingenious redactor which has ever since con- 
founded attempts to discover the true origin and purpose of the 
book. Scholars have been quite right in affirming that the datings, 
at least in their present form, are not genuine. Incidentally, the 
fact that there was undoubtedly a regular planned sequence of 
dates, beginning with the 30th year and extending throughout the 
book, is another argument for unity of composition. 

To summarize: A compelling array of evidence, including that 
of uniform literary style, characteristic words and phrases, logical 
organization, characteristic habit of repetition, borrowing from 
other writers, vividness of imagery and action, and the sense of a 
definite personality permeating all the book, argues for the unity 
of Ezekiel. This unity is emphasized by the overwhelming ma- 
jority of competent Old Testament scholars of all shades of opinion. 
The evidence of diverse authorship, or of composition partly in 
Palestine and partly in Babylonia, is quite unconvincing. It is 
possible, moreover, to hold to the essential integrity of Ezekiel 
while admitting that it has been retouched to the extent of trans- 
forming its original background into that of the Babylonian exile. 
It will be evident, as we proceed, that this last view best accords 

* 9 Pseudo-Ezek., pp. 58 ff.; cp. pp. 108-112. 

40 Kuhl (p. 112) intimates that Torrey, since he regards the whole book as 
"Fiktion," is greatly concerned to keep the dates (30th to 32nd year) as close 
together as possible, thus approximating Smend's "in einem Zuge geschrieben." 
But if it is fiction there is no need to limit the span of the dates. There is no 
reason why the period should not cover 20 years, or more. Notice that the 
redactor did not omit the dates, since such freedom would have seemed unjusti- 
fiable to him. Instead, he keeps as close to the original as possible, simply super- 
imposing his new dates upon the old without changing the months and days. 


with all the pertinent facts, and offers a satisfactory solution of 
the various problems involved. On this basis there is no need 
whatever to regard the book as other than the solidly constructed 
work which the evidence proclaims it. But let us now turn to 
much briefer consideration of the other propositions to be examined. 



Language is a perfectly definite and objective criterion which* 
judiciously employed, ought to provide reliable evidence as to date- 
In English literature, for example, it would be ridiculous to try to 
date a typical specimen of modern poetry or prose in Elizabethan 
tunes. While the information available regarding the growth of 
the Hebrew language is obviously less definite than hi the case of 
the English, we do know from the extant literature that the later 
literary products tended to incorporate an increasing proportion of 
Aramaisms. Now the clear and inescapable fact with regard to 
Ezekiel is that its vocabulary and style are exactly those of books 
we know to be late. The Aramaic element is distinctly more 
marked than that of the Chronicler (300-250 B.C.), and most 
closely resembles what we find in the very late books, Esther, 
Ecclesiastes and the Hebrew of Daniel. No dispute exists among 
scholars as to the fact that Ezekiel abounds hi Aramaisms. Kraetz- 
schmar 41 conservatively states: "Die Sprache ist nicht mehr die 
des goldenen Zeitalters des Hebr., sondern schon bedeutend beein- 
flusst durch das Aramaische." Driver 42 intimates that even P's 
language shows fewer signs of lateness than that of Ezekiel. 
Smend 43 gives a considerable list of grammatical and syntactical 
phenomena "die wesentlich der spateren Zeit angehoren" without, 
however, drawing from them any definite conclusion. Zunz 44 makes 
a careful examination of the late and Aramaic elements in the book, 
with the result that he finds in them a strong additional reason for 
holding to a date in the Persian period. Similarly, Seinecke 46 
gives a briefer list in support of his assignment to the time of 

41 P. XIII. 

42 LOT, pp. 156-157. 
48 Pp. XXVIII f. 

44 Loc. tit. 
46 Pp. 19 f. 


Antiochus Epiphanes. Even Spiegel, who vigorously and insist- 
ently contends for the traditional setting, freely grants the "strong 
Aramaic element in Ezekiel." 46 Perhaps the most useful brief 
treatise on the subject is the dissertation of F. Selle, De Aramaismis 
libri Ezechielis.* 7 Although the author draws practically no in- 
ferences as to the bearing of the facts he presents, his data deserve 
far more attention than is customarily accorded them by scholars. 
Here are a few of the multitude of Aramaisms he presents: The 
replacing of sibilants by dentals (apparently a late development); 
the use of Aramaic forms of the personal pronoun; characteristically 
Aramaic noun formations; feminine singular with aleph; masculine 
plural hi -In; af'el, pa' el and haf'el forms of the verb; lamedh as 
sign of the direct object; use of the proleptic pronoun; and in 
general a long list of words and locutions deriving from the Aramaic. 
If Selle's list is subjected to detailed analysis, it soon becomes over- 
whelmingly evident that the kind and extent of these Aramaisms 
have no real parallel except in the very latest books. Ezekiel's 
diction and vocabulary represent an advanced stage in the transi- 
tion from Hebrew to Aramaic. 

Most scholars, however, including even those who have come to 
see that the datings from the Babylonian exile are not original, 
have felt strangely reluctant to adopt the obvious conclusion that 
the book belongs approximately to the period of Ecclesiastes, 
Esther and Daniel. In various ways they have done little better 
than evade the manifest implications of the troublesome linguistic 
phenomena. Cornill's commentary, for instance, so thoroughly 
"emends" with the help of the Greek that much of the evidence is 
made to disappear. Toy explains the facts by saying, "The Ara- 
maisms are probably due to later scribes." 48 For this position 
there is, of course, not a scintilla of evidence. To deal so cavalierly 
with any book is to vitiate every attempt to weigh the internal 
testimony of diction. For J. Smith, "the Aramaisms suggest a 

46 "Ezekiel or Pseudo-Ezekiel?," Harvard Theological Review, XXIV, 1931, 
p. 302. His reference to K. Zimmer's Aramaismi Jeremiani as proof that Ezekiel's 
Aramaicized diction is normal in the late seventh and early sixth century B.C. 
is not well taken, in view of the fact that much how much, nobody knows 
of Jeremiah is admittedly very late. 

47 Published at Halle in 1890. See also the considerable list of Aramaisms indi- 
cated by Kautzsch, Die Aramaismen im Atten Testament, 1902, pp. 100, 111. 

**Enc. Bib., II, 1901, col. 1460. 


northern origin." 49 But again there is no valid evidence for the 
theory of a distinct northern literary dialect of this type, while we 
do have abundant testimony to the use of just this style of writing 
in documents composed in Judah in the last pre-Christian centuries. 
A favorite theory is that the Aramaisms are due to the prophet's 
being influenced by the speech he heard all about him in Babylonia. 80 
But as Cornill 61 long ago pointed out, it is psychologically incredible 
that a priest so thoroughly steeped in the literature of his nation, 
and living in Babylonia as a member of a colony of his fellow- 
countrymen, should have largely unlearned his mother tongue and 
so radically departed from the classical idiom he knew in Jeru- 
salem. If, on the other hand, we admit that Ezekiel is to be placed 
hi Palestine, such a style as his is really unthinkable for an educated 
man living toward the end of the period of the southern kingdom. 
No! the evidence of abundant Aramaisms, as well as that of reputed 
Babylonian loan-words, indicates that Persian custom had long 
been influencing the Hebrew of Palestine when this book was 

Apparently the only adequate explanation of the close resem- 
blance of Ezekiel hi literary style and language to the latest products 
of the Hebrew genius is the perfectly obvious one that the book 
itself is much later than the interpolated dates would have us 
believe. For this conclusion concrete and definite evidence is avail- 
able for all who will compare the style of Ezekiel with that of other 
late books; while for the alternative explanations only conjecture 
is at command. It can hardly be thought unreasonable to posit 
a late dating for the book, since, as will presently appear, a cumu- 
lative weight of arguments all points in the same direction. To 
oppose these arguments there is only the interpolator's dating, 
which has already been recognized by many scholars as secondary. 62 

49 Pp. 70 f . Observe that Smith quotes Driver, LOT, p. 449, in support of 
his theory that the northern dialect differed considerably from that of the southern 
kingdom. On p. 450, however, Driver (in fine print), in retracting his argument 
favoring an early date for the Song of Songs, accepts this same linguistic evidence 
as favoring a late date. Cp. also Driver's use (p. 322) of Aramaisms to prove the 
lateness of Jonah. His effort to maintain a preexilic date for Ruth (p. 455), by 
glozing over the evidence afforded by the language, looks like special pleading. 

60 See Harford, p. 50; Spiegel, p. 302. 

61 Pp. VI f. 

62 See, in addition, Torrey's discussion of the language in Pseudo-EzeMel, pp. 
84-90; JBL, LIII, p. 317. 




No detailed demonstration is needed of the fact that the author 
of Ezekiel moves in the thought-currents of the priestly caste. 
Both in the elaborate ecclesiastical program of chs. 40-48, and in 
repeated passages in the preceding chapters, the affinities with the 
P document, and particularly the Holiness Code, are frequent and 
striking. In part, at least, the writer seems to presuppose and 
utilize P; not improbably he was acquainted with the entire P 
document we know today. 68 For the most part, it is generally 
agreed, P belongs to the fifth century. On whichever side we ulti- 
mately decide the borrowing lies, it is clear that the whole back- 
ground of both is much the same and probably late. At any rate, 
the advanced legalism of Ezekiel, which has won him the popular 
title, "Father of Legalism," witnesses to a later milieu than the 
sixth century. 

With respect to the book's apocalypticism, the point to be ob- 
served is that we are witnessing, not the beginnings of that move- 
ment, but an advanced and developed phase of it. Notice the 
cryptic dating (1: 1) in the "thirtieth year" without mention of 
the name of the king; the extravagantly elaborated opening vision; 
the miraculous instantaneous transportation from place to place; 
the baroque symbolic riddles of chs. 4, 5, etc. ; the offensively frank 
personifications in chs. 16 and 23; the typical recasting of a vivid 
earlier prophecy (Is. 14) in 31: 15 ff.; the resurrection of ch. 37, 
which may well reflect the writer's acceptance of individual resurrec- 
tion, a concept which is the property only of the latest Jewish 
writings; 54 the technically perfected eschatology of the Gog chapters 
(38 f.); and, finally, the strange concept, paralleled only in such 
late passages as Zech. 14:8 and Joel 4: 18b, of a stream issuing 
from under the threshold of the Temple. These and many similar 
features remind the reader, as Eissfeldt 85 rightly observes, of the 
later apocalypses (cp. Enoch). It is an axiom of modern study that 
the Old Testament apocalypse, of which Ezekiel is acknowledged 
to be representative, is a type of literature rooting in the Messianic 
hope, which received its full development only in the latest cen- 

63 See Driver, pp. 145-149, and especially Torrey, Pseudo-Ezek., p. 91. 

64 Cp. 0. S. Rankin, Israel's Wisdom Literature, 1936, pp. 212-214. 
55 Einleitung in das Alte Testament, 1934, p. 426. 


turies. Daniel, of which Ezekiel is commonly regarded as the pre- 
cursor, stands nearest in thought, atmosphere and form to this 
book. But four hundred years is a long jump! How account, 
then, for the almost identical theology of the two books? Was 
there no development in Hebrew literature? On the common 
assumption, Ezekiel received his theological training in Jerusalem 
before 597 B.C. Is it not really ridiculous to suppose that, soon 
after reachirfg the Jewish colony at Tel-Abib, he had not only 
changed his language to late Hebrew, but also adopted an advanced 
type of theology likewise closely related to the latest in the Old 
Testament? We must conclude that the study of the book's 
legalism, and even more of its highly developed apocalyptic tone, 
testifies strongly to its late origin. 66 


That Ezekiel is fully conscious of dependence upon earlier writ- 
ings is indicated especially by two passages. He represents himself 
in 2: 8-3:3 as eating at God's command a roll of a book "written 
within and without," "as honey for sweetness." In 38: 17, again, 
Gog is referred to as the one spoken of in "old time" by the prophets. 
Evidently there has been a considerable Hebrew literature devel- 
oped before Ezekiel writes. Throughout the prophecy, indeed, one 
feels that the author knows ultimately the religious classics of his 
people, which he quotes copiously but inexactly from memory. He 
even seems to conceive of his office as primarily interpreter and 
commentator upon his precedessors." 

Incomparably the most thorough and judicious study of the rela- 
tionship of this book to these other Old Testament writings is the 
work by Millar Burrows entitled, The Literary Relations of Ezekiel, 
1925. Here all contacts with the other books are subjected to 
careful and meticulous scrutiny. As a result of this investigation, 
Professor Burrows is convinced that Ezekiel was written "later 
than 1 and 2 Kings and Is 14, after the completion of the Penta- 
teuch, probably later than Hg, Zc, Ob, and Is 13, 23, 34 f ., 40-55, 
and 56-66, perhaps later than Joel, the Aramaic part of Dn, and 
Zc 9: 11-11:3, but probably before the late additions to Jo, and 

56 See Torrey, Pseudo-EzeMel, pp. 93-97. 

67 Cp. Burrows, op. tit., pp. 104 f.; and Seinecke, p. 4, who suggests that Ezekiel, 
like Luther regarding Paul, might well have said: "Ich bin keiner von den Pro- 
pheten, ich bin nur ihr Vorleser." 


quite certainly before Sirach and the Hebrew book of Dn" (p. 102). 
Again, "there is not one clear instance of dependence upon Ez 
until we come to Sirach" (p. 103). To his own surprise, Burrows 
comes to the conclusion that "the view of Ez as a product of the 
late pre-Maccabean period is not only possible but very probable" 
(p. 105). The notable cautiousness of the writer in coming to his 
conclusions makes his verdict as to the lateness of Ezekiel doubly 
convincing. Of special importance are the evident relationships to 
Second Isaiah. 68 

Despite Spiegel's characterization of arguments from literary 
relationships as "vague and variable," 69 the method is very often 
concrete and definite; and when, as in the present instance, it is 
used with good judgment, it is dependable. In Ezekiel, further- 
more, the very magnitude of relationship to other books constitutes 
a cumulative argument in favor of the debt being on his side. He is, 
in fact, an habitual borrower. 60 Nor is his book the kind we should 
expect to see frequently quoted by the poets, prophets and priests 
to whose writings his oracles are closely related. His very attitude 
toward the "old time" (38: 17) indicates as clearly as can be that 
he is simply one who follows in the train of earlier and greater 
prophets, and that he himself is probably too late to be a source 
book for any but the very latest Old Testament writers. 

An additional indication that Ezekiel belongs here is the double 
reference in 14: 14 and 20 to Daniel and Job in conjunction, as 
also to Daniel's wisdom in 28: 3. Professor Albright's contention, 61 
that the mention of Daniel in the Alein epic recently found at Ras 
Shamra in northern Phoenicia proves that the Daniel of Ezekiel 
is not the Biblical hero of that name, is not convincing. The 
collocation of the two names, together with that of Noah, in Ezek. 
14: 14, 20 makes it impossible to believe that the writer was think- 
ing only of the prototypes of these two late books. That he knew 
the books we have seems the nearest, simplest and most reasonable 
explanation of his passing mention of these characters; and this 
explanation is consonant with all the other evidence of lateness. 

68 See Torrey, Second Isaiah, 1928, p. 108; Pseudo-Ezekiel, pp. 91-93; JBL, 
LIII, pp. 318-320. 

69 P. 310. 

60 Cp. Burrows, p. 101. 

61 In JBL, LI, pp. 99 f.; cp. Torrey 's reply, ibid., p. 181; also Pseudo-Ezek., 
pp. 97 f . See also J. W. Jack, Ras Shamra Tablets, 1935, pp. 22 f . 


In the case of Daniel, it would appear that the stories in chs. 1-6, 
rather than the predictions of 7-12, are in his mind. If these 
tales be dated c. 240 B.C., 62 it makes Ezekiel, who thus refers to 
them, one of the latest books in the Old Testament canon. 


How account for the infallible skill of Ezekiel in foreseeing, often 
years before their actual occurrence, the most minute details of 
future events? Consider, for example, in 12:12ff. (cp. ll:9f.) 
the extremely circumstantial prediction of the attempted escape 
and capture of Zedekiah, the judgment at Riblah, the blinding 
of the king, and his deportation to Babylon all this exactly as 
narrated hi 2 Kings 25: 4-7! Again in 24: 1 f . he not only sees 
from distant Babylon the approach of the Babylonian king to the 
siege of Jerusalem, but records the date. In 24: 15-18 he foresees 
hi the morning the death that same evening of his beloved wife by 
a stroke. Similarly, he narrates hi 33: 21 f. a distinct premonition 
of the approach of a fugitive from destroyed Jerusalem. In the 
foreign oracles he describes, years beforehand, the attitudes and 
actions of Edom, Ammon, Moab, etc. toward Judah during the last 
siege and thereafter. But the most astounding feat of all is re- 
counted in 11:13. Here he perceives Pelatiah fall dead from 
terror in Jerusalem at the very moment the prophet hi Tel-Abib 
is uttering dire predictions against the holy city. Does Pelatiah, 
too, possess the gift of ecstatic clairvoyance? 

For one, or even two, such remarkable instances we might be 
content to accept Smend's argument 68 that Swedenborg had an 
experience in 1759 similar to those described in 24: 1 f . and 33 : 21 f , 64 
But in Ezekiel's case clairvoyance appears to have become a con- 
firmed habit. Kittel 66 defends the historicity of these incidents 
on the ground that some authorities in abnormal psychology grant 

62 See Enc. Brit., 1 * 1929, vol. 7, pp. 29 f.; cp. also Montgomery, Daniel (ICC), 
1927, p. 96. Observe that Montgomery's statement (pp. 90 f .) of Torrey's ex- 
planation of the two languages is far from accurate. 

68 P. 171. 

64 See the discussion of these and other instances in Torrey, Pseudo-Ezekiel, 
pp. 14, 40, 71-83. Cp. Seinecke's remarks (pp. 2ff.) on the vast difference 
between Ezekiel's incredible predictions and those of a prqphet like Isaiah. 

6B, p. 147. 


the possibility of occasional second sight. But to one who freely 
and fearlessly accepts the principles of modern critical study, this 
acceptance of remote possibility as fact for so many instances 
seems too much like mere subterfuge. As will presently appear, a 
more reasonable explanation is possible. 

Several scholars have sought to avoid the difficulties inherent hi 
Kittel's explanation, by supposing that Ezekiel embellished his 
narrative with certain details after the event; as Bertholet expresses 
it, 66 the wording of the prediction may have been influenced by its 
fulfilment. Buttenwieser definitely makes the whole book a proph- 
ecy after the event, first written in 570 B.C. He even goes so 
far as to deny that Ezekiel predicted the fall of Jerusalem until 
after it occurred. 67 But if the book is really a product of the sixth 
century, both Bertholet and Buttenwieser come near to making the 
prophet a liar. Such apologetic is too harshly heroic to appeal to 
most students! As Lofthouse, commenting on 24: 1 f., poses the 
dilemma: "Either Ezekiel was a deliberate deceiver, or he was pos- 
sessed of some sort of second sight." 68 Holscher is quite justified 
in maintaining that if the prophet only learned of Pelatiah's death 
at a later tune, his representation of the event hi 11: 13 is "ein 
unleugbarer Betrug." His solution of the problem is to shift these 
legendary narratives to the shoulders of the fifth century redactor 
he makes responsible for most of Ezekiel. 69 While this is a move 
in the right direction it is not justifiable, if our contention as to the 
unity of Ezekiel is accepted, thus to attribute these narratives to a 
ghost writer. 

When critics read astounding tales of second sight in the his- 
torical books, they have no difficulty in classifying them as fiction. 
In the book of Daniel we have an even closer parallel to Ezekiel. 
Here the commentators offer the eminently reasonable and satis- 
factory explanation that it belongs to a well known type of imagina- 
tive literature, popular in later Judaism, called the pseudepigraph. 
People then firmly believed that the ancient prophets could and 
did predict even the minutest details of future events; otherwise, 

66 Pp. XXII f. 

67 "The Date and Character of Ezekiel's Prophecies," Hebrew Union College 
Annual, VII, 1930, pp. 17 f . 

68 Ezekiel (New Cent. Bible), p. 202. Certainly a man of Ezekiel's orderly 
type of mind would not have been self -deceived. 

69 Pp. 76 f.; cp. p. 126 (on 24: 1 ff.); see also Kuhl, pp. 108 f. 


why did God inspire them? The pseudepigraph placed in the 
mouths of these prophets appropriate messages, and predictions of 
events the author knew from tradition or read about in the sacred 
books. 70 Abundant illustration of this point of view is to be 
found in the New Testament, not only in the Apocalypse, but 
also in the constant references to Old Testament predictions in 
the Gospels and Acts. 71 Why deny for the book of Ezekiel the 
sensible explanation we so freely accept for its prototype, Daniel? 
Especially since all other explanations either strain our credulity, 
or involve the prophet in suspicion of intentional or unintentional 
deceit? The best explanation of the book would therefore appear 
to be that it belongs to the same type of prediction after the event 
as that found in the apocalyptic pseudepigraph of Daniel. 



If Ezekiel, like Daniel, is an apocalypse and pseudepigraph, it is 
extremely probable that in the cryptic figure of Gog (chs. 38 f.) 
there lurks the vivid memory of some mighty oppressor. 72 It was 
not the custom, of course, hi this type of literature to come out 
plainly with the name. Consequently we are thrown back upon 
conjecture as to the identity of this almost superhuman figure, 
whose attack and ultimate destruction are depicted hi the vivid 
phrases of Jewish eschatology. Who is the terrible invader? 
Seinecke 78 identifies him as Antiochus Epiphanes. Havet 74 offers 
the improbable suggestion that chs. 38 f . were added to Ezekiel at 
the tune of the Parthian invasion of 40 B.C., and identifies Gog 
with the Pacorus of the Greek historians and Josephus. Winckler, 7B 

70 See Driver's remarks (LOT, p. 91) concerning Deuteronomy, which is also 
really a pseudepigraph; cp. also Deuteronomy (ICC), p. LVIII: "He (the writer) 
places Moses on the stage, and exhibits him pleading his case with the degenerate 
Israel of Josiah's day." 

71 Cp. the detailed predictions connected with the death of Judas in Acts 1: 
15 ff. and Matt. 27:9 f. 

72 See Oesterley and Robinson, Hebrew Religion, p. 257: "The prophet, whether 
Ezekiel or another, ... is doubtless applying the mythical names of Gog and 
Magog to some actual enemies he has in mind." 

78 P. 14. 

74 La modernity des proph&tes, 1891, pp. 231 f . 

76 Altorientalische Forschungen, II, 1898, pp. 160-171. Chs. 38 f. he makes 
a later addition to Ezekiel. He has some sarcastic things to say about the ultra- 
conservative attitude of his contemporaries among Biblical scholars. 


basing his opinion largely on the mention of the "isles" in 39: 6, 
conjectured that Gog represents Alexander the Great. This was 
also the opinion of the renowned Orientalist, Noldeke, who in 1928 
first made the suggestion to Professor Torrey. 78 But it is the 
latter who has developed and grounded this thesis most fully. 77 
Only Alexander and his forces, he argues, can begin to fit the 
description Ezekiel gives of "highly trained and thoroughly equipped 
armies." The reference in 39:6 to the 'iyyim (the Greek coast- 
lands and islands) indicates that the Macedonian kingdom is 
meant. In 38: 13 the reference is probably, as in Joel 4: 6-8, to 
Phoenician traders accompanying Alexander's armies. 

When one considers the speed with which Alexander became 
as he still continues to be a legendary figure in the Near East, 78 
it does not seem strained to recognize him in the figure of Gog. 
The mention of Persia in 38: 5 and 27: 10 adds its bit of corrobora- 
tion to this identification. Persia has already evidently emtifged 
upon the stage of history for the Jews. (Elsewhere in the Old Testa- 
ment the name is found only in Daniel, Esther and the Chronicler). 79 
All the lines of evidence we have followed, be it observed, agree per- 
fectly with this placing of Ezekiel after the tune of Alexander. 

In the foregoing endeavor to fix base lines as guides toward a 
rational understanding of Ezekiel, two things have come to the 
front : first,, there is extraordinarily strong evidence for the unity 
of the book; and second, the unanimous testimony of language, 
theology, literary relationships, reputed clairvoyance of the prophet 
and, finally, the apocalyptic figure of Gog, all converge to indicate 
that this is a late pseudepigraph of Palestinian provenance. But 
if a pseudepigraph, the question at once arises : By whom do these 
oracles purport to be uttered? The confusion introduced by the 

76 See Torrey, Pseudo-Ezekiel, pp. 95 f.; JBL, LIII, p. 292; cp. Noldeke's letter 
to Littmann in 1930 (quoted by Eissfeldt, Pal&stinajahrbuch, 27 Jahrg., p. 65): 
"Dass Alexander d. Gr. unter dem Namen Nebukadnezar's, der Tyrus belagert, 
im Ezechiel vorkommt, weiss ich langst." 

77 See references in last note; cp. also his article, "Alexander the Great in the 
Old Testament Prophecies," ZATW, Beiheft 41, 1925, pp. 281-286. 

78 See A. Weigall, Alexander the Great, 1933. 

79 In JBL, LI, p. 181 (cp. LIII, p. 317), Torrey effectively meets Albright's 
argument for Ezekiel's early date based on the mention of Persia in older 


secondary Babylonian dating does its part to render difficult the 
answer to the question. 

Probably the best immediate clue to the intended setting of the 
prophecy is that offered by the cryptic dating, almost universally 
acknowledged to be original, "in the thirtieth year" (1:1). 
Whose thirtieth year? Usually such dates are reckoned after the 
reign of some king. This would here probably mean before 586 B.C. 
What seems the best suggestion given is that of Professor Torrey, 
who argues that King Manasseh is intended. 80 In 2 Kings 21 
(cp. 23: 26 f.; 24: 4) Manasseh's rule is scathingly denounced, espe- 
cially for idolatry and the shedding of innocent blood. Precisely 
these sins constitute the burden of Ezekiel's polemic throughout. 
Strong corroboration of this identification is offered by James 
Smith and Curt Kuhl, who had each independently decided that 
Manasseh is meant. 81 If this idea is accepted, the identity of the 
purported speaker is easy to guess: it will be one of the unnamed 
prophets whose invectives against Manasseh, strikingly after the 
manner of Ezekiel, are mentioned in 2 Kings 21: 10-15 (cp. 24: 2). 

So much for the setting of this pseudepigraph. What about the 
actual date of composition? Here we are thrown back, just as in 
Daniel, to such items of internal evidence as are charted out hi 
the propositions discussed above. It appears that the book was 
written, as already suggested, after Daniel 1-6, which it seems to 
presuppose. In the other direction, Ben Sira's mention of the 
prophet sets an extreme lower limit of c. 180 B.C. Allowing suffi- 
cient tune for the book to become recognized as the work of a 
prophet, we are probably justified in setting a tentative date of c. 
225 B.C. In effect this is an extension to the whole book of the 
late dates assigned to most or part of it by scholars like Holscher 
and Berry. 82 This new conception enables us to understand many 
of Ezekiel's peculiarities as being simply incidental to the late pseud- 

80 Pseudo-Ezek., pp. 58 ff.; cp. JBL, LIII, pp. 306-311. 

81 Without, however, positing either late date or pseudepigraphic character 
for the book. See above, note 38. 

82 The late date explains why Babylonia is not included among the foreign 
oracles. Egypt under the Ptolemies was now hi the forefront, and Babylonia 
was an ancient memory. Notice also the possibility that the original prophecy 
was anonymous (Torrey, Pseudo-Ezek., p. 111). The hesitation of Jewish scholars 
to accept the book may well go back to the confusion caused by the new setting 
imposed upon it (ibid., pp. 11-23; JBL, LIII, pp. 295-299). 


epigraphic style of composition. It also helps solve many of the 
problems listed at the beginning of this inquiry. 

What was the unknown author's purpose in writing this group 
of "historical sermons?" Much the same as that of earnest reli- 
gious men of all times. He sought by concrete illustration to bring 
home to his own generation the eternal validity of moral and 
spiritual laws, to exalt human personality in terms of individual 
responsibility, and to represent as best he might the transcendent 
holiness of the one true God. Doubtless the inroads of alien, and 
especially Greek, life and thought were already playing havoc with 
the beliefs established in olden tunes; for we must remember that 
the Maccabean persecution was not far away. Here is offered, in 
the favorite literary form of its day, an eloquent and steadying 
religious philosophy of history. 

"Crisis" was used by Professor Kittel to characterize the state 
of Ezekiel research in his day, as quoted hi our opening sentence. 
Thanks to recent epochal investigations, the old concept of the 
book is even more untenable today; it must yield to newer and 
more adequate views. Three principal interpretations are now con- 
testing for supremacy. One, the most popular, would take the 
violent step of partitioning the book among several authors; 
another would assign the book, entire, to Northern Israel after 
Samaria's fall hi 722 B.C.; and the third recognizes in Ezekiel a 
late pseudepigraph purporting to be spoken hi Jerusalem during 
Manasseh's reign. The weight of evidence, as indicated in the 
present investigation, seems to assure the correctness of this last 
hypothesis. It alone seems competent to make the book at all 
intelligible. One need hardly point out the imperative need of 
finding a satisfactory answer to this pressing problem of contem- 
porary criticism; for upon it depends in large measure not only our 
understanding of the book itself, but also of the whole development 
of the later Hebrew religion. 



University of Leiden 

Research and discussion on the origin and character of the Odes 
of Solomon have come almost to a standstill. One can add hardly 
anything of importance to Gressmann's statement of the case in 
Hennecke's "Neutestamentliche Apokryphen" ( 2 1924, p. 437). It 
runs as follows: "Formerly a few lines of quotation in Lactantius 
(Inst. iv, 12 : 3) were all we knew of the Odes of Solomon. The 
Coptic "text of the Pistis Sophia (ed. C. Schmidt in the Berlin 
Corpus vol. xiii, 1905) brought an addition of five Odes. At present 
the Odes are almost complete in a Syriac translation, which Rendel 
Harris discovered ("The Odes and Psalms of Solomon," 1 1909, 2 1911). 
Harris and Mingana published then- final edition at Manchester 
in 1916-20. 

Greek was the original language, and a retranslation into Greek 
was attempted by Frankenberg ("Das Verstdndniss der 0. $.") hi 
1911. For a long time then- place in history remained a matter 
of uncertainty. The original editor suggested a Jewish-Christian 
origin. Harnack ("Ein Psalmbuch aus dem ersten Jahrhundert," 
= T, u. xxxv, 4, 1910) proposed a Jewish Grundschrift afterwards 
christianized by redactors. Labourt and Batiffol ("Les Odes de 
Salomon," 1911) advanced the hypothesis of an origin "en marge de 
l^glise." Gunkel (z. N. w. 1910, pp. 291-328) made a case for 
gnosticism, Bernard ("The Odes of Solomon," 1912) for sacramental 
mysticism. Frankenberg maintained, finally, that the Odes were 
a product of Alexandrine theology. The majority of those hi the 
field agree, nowadays, on their being a collection of Gnostic Hymns 
from the ii d Century. The literature up to 1914 is catalogued in 
G. Kittel's "Die 0. S. uberarbeitet oder einheitlichf," Leipzic, 1914." 

Though well arranged and useful, Kittel's bibliography is not 
complete. One can supply part of its deficiencies from the standard 
edition by Harris and Mingana, vol. ii, pp. 455-464, the "biblio- 
graphical index," which goes down to 1920. 



As to Gressmann's opinions as quoted above, one may be allowed 
some doubts. The study of the Odes having been international, 
it is difficult to be certain of a majority for then* "Gnostic" 
origin, even if it should exist. Gnosticism is, moreover, a word 
with more than one meaning. Montanism e.g. has been suggested 
hi the same periodical in which Gunkel published one of his pleas 
for Gnostic origin, viz. z. N. w. 1911, pp. 70-75: F. C. Conybeare 
"The Odes of Solomon Montanist," and, independently hi another 
issue, pp. 108-125, S. A. Fries "Die 0. S. montanistische Lieder aus 
dem 2 Jahrhundert" 

This omission is not serious, as other and more disputable views 
have also been passed over. But the confidence with which a 
Greek text is asserted as the original of the Syriac Odes is far from 
having been borne out by fact. 

Syriac scholars are rather guarded hi their utterances on this 
point, and, to my knowledge, several alleged cases of mistransla- 
tion or violation of Syriac idiom, which should be due to an under- 
lying Greek text, have been quite abandoned. Those which I know 
of, were explicable, as far as they had any substance, from the 
influence of the Syriac Bible. 

The one thing which tends to create a presumption for a Greek 
original is the fact that the Odes occur hi the Stichometry of 
Nicephorus, a Patriarch of Constantinople in the beginning of the 
ix th century. The Psalms and Odes of Solomon are mentioned 
there as containing 2100 verses. As this number must have been 
counted on a Greek text, Nicephorus must have found a canon-list 
which represented a Greek Bible containing among its Solomonic 
apocrypha a Greek text of the Odes. 

The Syriac style of the Odes is admittedly not of the very best, 
but there is abundant evidence of original Syriac composition, both 
in prose and in verse, which is far less pure. For that matter the 
lost Greek may just as well have been a translation from the Syriac. 

The Syriac origin of the Odes cannot be ruled out as improbable, 
for in the field of hymnography the Syrian Church had given the 
lead and the Greeks were following as imitators. On this point 
e.g. one should consult C. Eme"reau, Saint Ephrem le Syrien, son 
oeuvre litteraire grecque, Paris, 1918. There cannot be any doubt 
about Syriac influence on the origin of Greek hymnography. 

The Greek words in the Coptic of the "Pistis Sophia" provide no 
proof of a Greek original. Such words should be of a very peculiar 


and uncommon character to carry proof : in this case a Coptic trans- 
lator would insert them in his text in despair. Ordinary Greek 
words, however, are used at random in Coptic writings, perhaps 
often enough as embellishments. The fact that Lactantius seems 
as a rule not to quote a Latin translation if he can avoid it, does 
not disprove the existence of a Greek text in his days. It does 
not furnish any proof for the contrary (see: Abbott, E. A., Diates- 
sarica IX, 3637o and 3707/, pp. 2 and 104-5, Cambridge, 1912) 
either: his Latin can have been derived from an original Syriac 
just as well as the Coptic in the Pistis Sophia. 

If a Greek translation or even a Greek original existed in the 
iii d -iv th century, it must have -been, rare, or soon have become 
rare, since the search for quotations and allusions to the Odes 
hi Greek texts has proved so disappointing. If, e.g. Nicephorus 
(f 815 A.D.) had had access to Greek Bibles containing the Odes 
as a companion-text to the well-known "Psalms of Solomon," Theo- 
dorus Studites (f 826A.D.), his contemporary, and fellow-victim 
of the iconoclasts, would in all probability have known them. 
Now Theodore of the Studium was a great versifier; his "canons," 
epigrams and other poetry were admired. Yet I have failed to 
find a single allusion or parallel to the Odes in his poetry or in 
that of several of his followers. A better result could have 
been expected, since the Odes abound hi striking and peculiar ex- 
pressions and imagery. 

It seems evident, therefore, that one should not be too confident 
about the Odes having been Greek from the beginning. The evi- 
dence is, at all events, not conclusive and seems to point slightly 
the other way. This being the case, one must regret that Gress- 
mann omitted from his enumeration of conflicting views the opinion 
of Grimme ("Die 0. S. syrisch, hebraisch, deutsch, ein kritischer 
Versuch," 1911), who submitted a Hebrew retranslation of the Odes 
as a proof of then 1 having been composed originally in Hebrew 
surroundings. Grimme's attempt was not too felicitous, owing to 
his theories on the nature of Hebrew and Syriac versification, but 
Frankenberg's Greek reconstruction was still less a success. 

If Gressmann, hi his article in Hennecke's Nil. Apokr., had 
paid more attention to important non-German literature he could 
have unproved upon the statements quoted above. Tondelli's "Le 
Odi di Salomone, cantid cristiani degli inizi del ii secolo" (Rome, 
9114) is, e.g., a work of real merit, for which Dr. Angelo Mercati has 


taken the trouble of writing an introduction. In the "YEABBOOK 
OF UPPSALA UNIVERSITY" for 1910 (not '11 or '12) pp. 1-187 Lind- 
blom has published a penetrating study of the idea of "life" in 
Pauline and Johannine literature, but, as mentioned in the Swedish 
title of the article, the Odes are there too. In fact they form the 
main theme, and Lindblom tries to make a case for their being a 
specimen of a Jewish mysticism of syncretistic origin. This applies 
principally to the 13 "Saviour-odes," for, on Harnack's lines, he 
ascribes the "Jesus-odes" and the rest of the collection to a later 
Christian revision. 

The Semitic origin of the Odes, however, is not ruled out by the 
rejection of a Hebrew original or of such Grundschrift-theories, as 
Gerhard Kittel has apparently definitely refuted. On the con- 
trary, the vague metrical scheme, the rhythm and the style of this 
poetry are so thoroughly un-Greek and so fundamentally Semitic 
and even Syriac, that, to my view, there is no presumption at all 
that can hold for a non-Semitic original. 

If the "Odes" were hi prose, the case would be different. But, 
however obscure the laws of early Syriac poetry 1 may still be to most 
of us its superficial characteristics being well enough known- 1 -, 
if the Odes were a poetical translation from the Greek, their trans- 
lator must have been an exceptional master hi his art for they 
undoubtedly read as Syriac verse and that quite naturally. For 
this reason it is worth while to mention Diettrich's "Die Oden Salo- 
mos unter Beriicksichtigung der uberlieferten Stichengliederung . . . uber- 
setzt und mil einem Kommentar versehen (Berlin, 1911), as this book 
pays attention to this point. As it appeared in 1911 and was 
written by a competent Syriac scholar, it should not have been 

The evidence for the alleged Gnosticism of the Odes cannot be 
very strong on Gressmann's own showing: his enumeration of differ- 
ent views is in itself eloquent enough. However, the case 
is, to my view, not so weak as, e.g., Frankenberg's thesis would 
imply, but the fact that the "Pistis Sophia" had to elaborate 
quite a "targum" in order to adapt its quotations from the Odes 

1 Cf. G. Ho'lscher, "Syrische Verskunst" ( = Leipz. semitist. studien, N. F. V), 
1932. Holscher, a specialist in Arabic metre, starts from the melodies as they are 
sung in Syriac liturgy. Th. Weiss's "Zur Ostsyrischen Akzentlehre" ( = Bonner 
orientalist. Studien V), 1923 does not really further our subject. Brockelmann 
(D. L. z. 193 B.C. 91889) is convinced that Holscher is right. 


to their new, Gnostic surroundings, tells heavily against the pre- 
tended universal agreement. 

Gnosticism is an elusive term. With some scholars it seems 
really to mean syncretistic mythology, with others a "Reli- 
gionsphilosophie" of syncretistic stamp. In both cases the term is, 
against the older and more generally received use, not reserved for 
Christian speculation of this type. Something would be gained in 
the way of unambiguous expression if we agreed to speak of Pagan 
and Christian Syncretism respectively, reserving the term "Gnos- 
ticism" for those early heretics, who tried to base their theological 
system on the principle of "theodicy by theogony." The real 
Gnostic is a Christian theologian who tries to free the Supreme 
Being from the responsibility of having created a material, passing 
and base cosmos, shining humanity included, by the introduction of 
a series of intermediate agents to whom he ascribes the quality of 
divinity in lesser degrees. 

If, however, one does not object to labelling all figurative language 
which happens to differ from our present Western standard as 
"Gnostic," and if one should brand with that same stamp every 
expression or thought that seems, to us, more or less foreign to the 
Greek and Roman Fathers, one will forever be unable to distinguish 
Eastern " Vulgar christentum" from Christian Syncretism, perhaps 
even from the Pagan variety. One should e.g. bear in mind that 
extraordinary adaptability which was a principle of Manichaeism, 
as we begin to see from the newly discovered Coptic documents. 
The fact that Augustine himself had been a Manichee in practice 
and a Neoplatonist in theory before he became a Father of the 
Church speaks volumes. 

The case for the presumably "Gnostic" origin of the Odes is 
shown in its outlines in the literature which followed on then- dis- 
covery. One need but consult a bibliography to find in the year 
1911 two publications connecting the origin of the Odes with Barde- 
sanes, the author or originator of the "Book of the Laws of the 
Countries" usually known as "De Fato." In the "AMERICAN 
JOURNAL OF THEOLOGY" of that year Sprengling has treated this 
subject on pp. 459-464, and, independently, in the "JOURNAL OP 
BIBLICAL LITERATURE" (1911, pp. 161-204) the same hypothesis of 
Edessene and Bardesanian origin was proposed by Newbold. In 
Europe neither of them has received much attention, and personally 
I should reject the hypothesis, all Bardesanian traits that can be 


verified as such being absent from the Odes and conversely. But this 
fact is just as characteristic for the problem of the Odes as Cony- 
beare's and Fries's Montanist hypothesis. Yet, as sound and cau- 
tious a critic as Dhorme reviewing Newbold's contribution in the 

EBVUE BIBLIQUE INTERNATIONALE of 1912 (p. 468) Summed Up in 

this terse phrase: "the resemblances are indeed fugitive: these 
Odes are less gnostic than this least gnostic of all Gnostics was 

Yet something more ought to be said on it here. Bardaisan 
was born on the banks of the Edessene river Daigan, July 11 th , 
154. He became a Christian in 179, was soon ordained as a deacon 
by the bishop of the national Church of the Kingdom, Hystaspes, 
excommunicated by his successor in the see, 'Aqf, and died in 222. 
He had been educated with the son of the Osrhoenian long Ma'nu 
VIII, who reigned afterwards as Abgar IX (179-214) and who, 
from 202 onwards, after his visit to the imperial court at Rome, 
became the first Christian monarch in the history of the world. 2 

One may suspect that Abgar's conversion was a matter of inter- 
national politics: his realm was a Roman protectorate. By making 
Christianity the religion of his state, he could counteract the ab- 
sorbing influence of the worldly and spiritual powers of the West. 

The national Church, however, was not created by this king. 
This Church derived its origin and organisation hi a legendary 
way from the apostles Thomas and Addai (= Thaddaeus?). In 
reality it seems to have supplanted Jewish proselytism, which was 
already in the field and had obtained a sensational success in the 
kingdom of Adiabene, where the royal family was converted to 
Judaism. Abgar must have been conscious of the "Apostolic" 
origin of his Church and of its independence of Rome. A tension 
between the Roman see and his national bishop, or between this 
dignitary and the members of the national Church must have been 
a serious affair for him. And Bardesanes, being his friend and, in 
a certain sense, the court-theologian, must have been fully aware of 
these facts. The difficulties, however, did not come from Rome 

2 For the history of the Edessene kingdom: Chronicon Edessenum, ed. Hallier 
(T. u. IX, 1) and I. Guidi (Chronica minora in Corpus Scr. Chr. Oriental. Ser. 
Ill, 14). Literature: R. Duval, Histoire politique, religieuse et litteraire d'Edesse 
jusqu'a la premiere Croisade,' 1892; F. C. Burkitt, Early Eastern Christianity, 
1909; Euphemia and the Goth, 1913; I. Ortis de Urbina, Le origini del Cristiane- 
wwto in Edessa, GEES. XV, 82-91. 


but from the see of Antioch, which tried to extend its supremacy 
over the Church of the Edessene kingdom. All this happened 
during the troubled years preceding the reign of the emperor 
Severus (193-211), himself a Semite on the Roman throne. 

This excursus into history, is important for our suggestion of 
an Edessene origin for the Odes. 

Bardesanes at one time had compromised himself by indulging 
in astrological metaphysics. Afterwards he combated such views, 
but his mam work which should be called from its contents "On 
Freewill and Elpapfttvii" is certainly not Gnostic. Eusebius (Praep. 
Evangelica VI, 9:32 sqq.) quotes him at length and with obvious 
respect. He even defends him in Hist. Eccl. IV, 30 : 2 by recording 
that he condemned the Valentinian School and had written ex- 
tensive polemics against its theological ravings. He also signifi- 
cantly omits mentioning the "Bardesanian" heresy of his days and 
the influence of its Hymnology, which drove Ephrem, perhaps 
already during Eusebius' lifetime, to combat it with his poetry. Of 
course, Eusebius could not demur too openly to the public opinion 
of his days, his final testimony being: "He seemed convinced of 
his conversion to a more orthodox opinion, but he never purged 
himself completely of the dirt of his previous heresy." 

For our purpose it would be important to know the circumstances 
which led to Bardesanes' excommunication, but our only source 
here is Michael Syrus (Jacobite Patriarch, 1166-1199), ed. Chabot, 
p. 110: "Bardesanes had four sons. . . . 'Aqi, who succeeded as a 
bishop to Hystaspes, admonished him, and, as he did not accept 
persuasion, anathematized him. And Bardesanes died in the year 
533 ( = 222 A.D.), 68 years of age." 

Bardesanes, according to this same author, had been the pupil of 
a certain heathen priest at Hierapolis ( = Mabug, Membidg) under 
whose direction he had studied pagan hymnology* This may have 
been a preparation for his Christian poetry in which he was assisted 
by his son Harmonius. 

The comparison of the Odes (the character of which, if "gnostic," 
cannot have been too dissimilar from this Bardesanian poetry) 
with the poetry of Ephrem Syrus must, therefore, be a matter 
of first importance. For it is certain that Ephrem has imi- 
tated Bardesanes in order to supplant his influence by orthodox 
hymns. Bardesanian canticles were so popular that Ephrem had 


to follow this method. It appears from these facts, that the 
Syrian Church of the ii d , iii d and iv th centuries was indeed a singing 
church. Singing must have been a particularly important part of 
its liturgy, and poetry a natural means of expression and propa- 
ganda. Even if the Odes are not Bardesanian and not "Gnostic" 
in any palpable and definite sense, the Edessene Church is surely a 
likely place to look for their origin. And, as this church continued 
to favour Bardesanian hymnology until Ephrem succeeded in driving 
it out by his new canticles, one of the following conclusions must 
hold good: this older hymnology was not so unorthodox as Ephrem 
makes it, or this Edessene "Vulgarchristentum" was less sensitive 
on the point of orthodoxy, as it was understood in the Greek world. 
The case for a Bardesanian origin of the Odes is, therefore, 
stronger than it appeared, e.g. to Dhorme. And as the best paral- 
lels to the Odes are indeed found in Ephrem and Balai, and their 
force does not depend on the acceptance or rejection of Bernard's 
theory that the Odes must be baptismal hymns, we must show 
here why the Bardesanian school cannot be the circle from which 
the Odists came. 

One might obviate one of the most patent difficulties by the 
hypothesis that e.g. the absence of cosmological theory in our Odes 
is due to an orthodox revision. The revised collection could have 
been baptized "Odes of Solomon" as a camouflage for its objection- 
able origin. The lacerated condition of Ode xxvii and the strange 
return of its three remaining verses as a heading to Ode xlii might 
give color to the guess that a small part of the Bardesanian Psalter 
may have succeeded in escaping destruction in this way. 

But one should hear Bardesanes himself (Patrologia Syriaca I, 2, 
"Liber Legum Regionum" ed. F. Nau, annotavit Noldeke, pp. 

Bardesanes' theology, which was orthodox enough in its time, 
or at least was not yet actually condemned, was crowned by an 
evolutionist theodicy. "It has been ordained that these three 
Powers, viz. Nature, Heimarmene and Freedom should be valid 
until the Whole is completed and the measure is filled Thus has it 
pleased Hun who reigneth supreme ... in order that there should 
come at a certain tune an equilibrium of all realities and entities 
(ch. xxii)." "If we (human beings) had power over everything, 
we men would be the Whole, and if nothing were within our power, 


we should be but the instruments of other beings. If God chooses 
to do something, everything is possible without any disorder en- 
suing from it, for nothing can resist his great and holy will. 

"Even those who, in their opinion, are opposing Him, have their 
standing not by their power but by their wickedness and error, 
and only during a short time ... for God is good and permits 
every being to remain in its own measure and to be guided by 
its own will. 

"But there are real bounds and limits which have been fixed for 
the general weal. For this fixed order (of the heavenly Powers) 
and their compulsory cooperation is the impediment which prevents 
them from ever growing supreme hi their noxious power, as was the 
case before the kosmos was created. 

"And the time shall come when the harm which still is in them, 
shall have wholly disappeared as a result of the experience which 
they have acquired hi this other mixed condition. And in the 
composition of this new world all wicked motions shall have sub- 
sided and all rebelliousness shall have ended. The unwise will have 
been convinced and the shortcomings will have been completed and 
there shall be Peace and Best hi all Beings by the gracious gift of 
the Lord" (ch. xlvii). 

These impressive ideas are Bardesanes' most individual property. 
From the first medley of Chaos God created this temporary kosmos 
in which God's law acts as a duapn&ii limiting the freedom of the 
whole range of beings (cf. Rom. viii, 38. 39; I Cor. xv, 25; Eph. i, 
20 sq., vi, 12; Col. i, 16 sq., ii, 15) until they all have learned to 
accord by free consent with the exigencies of the whole as it had 
been planned by God's good and holy will. So the evil in this still 
mixed world is explained and the 'earnest expectation' of Creation 
(Rom. viii, 19-39) falls hi with a Divine Counsel which educates 
every earthly and supernatural being capable of salvation 8 to par- 
take of the glorious consummation. 

It is, therefore, impossible that e.g. Ode xii should be Bardesanian. 
Verse 4 could pass: "and the Most High hath given it (viz. the 
Word) to His Aeons, which are the interpreters of His own beauty, 
and the repeaters of His praise, and the confessors of His counsel, 
and the heralds of His thought, and the chasteners of His servants." 
But the content of w. 8-10 runs contrary to the fundamental idea 
of Bardesanes: "And by it (the Word) the Aeons talk one to the 

8 Cf . Ch. xii, "except those who are not created for good and are called f if &via. ". 


other; and in the Word there were those that were silent;' and 
from it came love and concord; and they spake one to another what- 
ever was theirs; and they were penetrated by the Word; 10 and they 
knew Him who made them, because they were in concord; &c." 

This reminds one of the curious way in which I Clement (xix, 2, 
xx, 9) makes use of the 'peace and concord' in the visible universe 
as an argument on behalf of 'peace and concord' among Christians. 
But the idea as expressed in this Ode is the opposite of Barde- 
sanes' conviction. Neither here nor elsewhere is any trace found 
of Bardesanes' characteristic theological ideas. The Odist has 
another outlook and also appears to be more of a mystic. 

On the other hand it is difficult to reconcile Bardesanes' own 
thought with the Odist's sacramental imagery. It can hardly be 
an accident that this treatise, De Fato, does not contain a trace of 
baptism. It does not mention any supernatural grace shielding 
man against the malignity of the demonic world, although it does 
fully recognize the existence of such powers. 

And this means that the Odes are "Vulgarchristlich" and not 
even in a revised way Bardesanian. For, as shown above, Barde- 
sanes' difficulty must have been in the first place that his theology 
was not of the "vulgarchristlich" type, however strange it may 
seem to us, who stand in a different line of tradition. 

Here a few historical points, which might give rise to objections' 
must be treated. Though it is dangerous to speak of an universal 
agreement, critics probably agree in placing the Odes in the ii d 

The idea, which deceived Harnack and others into suggesting a 
date before the Fall of Jerusalem came from the 'Temple Odes," 
Odes iv and vi. Much argument has been expended on this point, 
and even the Onias-temple has been brought in, but it is generally 
assumed, as far as one can be sure, that the spiritual "temple" or 
the celestial sanctuary of the New Jerusalem suffices. The chrono- 
logical objection disappears at the same tune. 

However, another chronological hint might be hidden here, and 
one which might be substantiated from the Chronicon Edessenum. 

Ode iv: 1-9. 

1. No man, my God, changeth thy holy place; 

Nor is (one able) to change it, and put it in another place. 


2a. Because he hath no power over it; 

2b. For thy sanctuary Thou designedst before Thou didst make 

3a. That which is the elder shall not be changed by those thai are 

younger than itself: 
3b. Thou hast given thy heart, Lord, to thy believers. 

4. Thou wilt never fail, 

Nor wilt Thou be without fruits: 

5. For one hour of thy Faith 

Is more precious than all days and years. 

6. For who is there that shall put on thy grace and be injured? 

7. For thy seal is known: 

And thy creatures are known to it. 

8. And the hosts possess it: 

And the elect archangels are clad with it. 

9. Thou hast given us thy fellowship: 

It was not that Thou wast in need of us; 
But that we are in need of thee. 

According to the Chronicon Edessenwn (T. u. IX, 1., ed. Hallier, 
1892, pp. 48-62, 86, 146) the Daisan (Gr. Zxtpris), which traversed 
the town, caused four big inundations ; in A. D. 201, 303, 313 and 525. 
Then the emperor (Justinian the Great) had its course deflected 
and regularized. In 201 the Christian Church was ruined by the 
inundation. It was reconstructed, evidently on its old and exposed 
site, for in 303 it must have suffered again. At least in 313 bishop 
Q6na and his successor Sa'd had to rebuild it entirely. The inun- 
dation of 525 once more did such damage that Justinian had to 
rebuild it again. 

From these facts therefore, one may safely conclude that there 
must have been a constant controversy on the safety of "the holy 
place" and a desire to "put it in another place," probably the 
place of some chapel of a "younger" date, which was less exposed. 
The conservative party must have put its trust in the consecration 
of the ancient place by some "seal" of the "grace of the Lord." 
This cannot have been the presence of the relics of St. Thomas, for 
these the church received, according to the same source, in 394. 
Neither can it have been the "letter of Christ to Abgar," for Abgar 
Ukam& (the fifth Abgar) reigned from 4 B.C. to 7 A.D. and from 
13-50 A.D. and is confused by the "Abgar legend" with the ninth 


Abgar, the friend of Bardesanes. The earliest witness for this 
legend is Eusebius Hist. Eccl. I. 13, the next in date is "The Doc- 
trine of Addai" edited by Phillips. The legend can hardly be older 
than the iv th century. The "seal" in the Ode must, therefore, if 
the Ode refers indeed to a controversy on the dangerous place of 
the older sanctuary, be the sign of the cross, perhaps an ancient 
cross which was connected with some specially holy person at a 
very early date. 

Now it should be observed that the Edessene Chronist in describ- 
ing the calamity which ruined the church-building hi 201 A.D. 
uses hi the same breath the words 'idthd and haykeld, "church" 
and "temple." And, hi the other Temple-ode, Ode vi, there is not 
only question of a (spiritualized) river, but the same word haykeld 
is used. Here again there are reminiscences of the inundations by 
which the Daigan flooded the town and destroyed everything. 

Odevi: 7-9 

7. For there went forth a stream and became a river great and 


8. For it flooded and broke up everything and brought (it) to 

the temple (haykeld). 

9. And the restrainers of the children of men were not able to 

restrain it 
Nor the arts of those whose business it is to restrain the 


lOa. For it spread over the face of the whole country, and filled 

One must pervert this text to find a way in which it could be 
applied even to the visionary Jerusalem of Ezechiel, and it is diffi- 
cult to see whence the poet could have derived this curious imagery. 
It has been suggested that it locates the Odist in Egypt: dykes 
and other "restraining" of waters by technical people being known 
there. But all this is perfectly intelligible in Edessa. Edessa 
is indeed the only place where it was quite natural to speak as the 
poet does. Egypt cannot be meant, because the Nile never grows 
from a dwindling "stream" into "a river great and broad." Its 
rising does not require an eager defence by the arts of a pro- 
fessional corps, which has to guard the town against "the waters," 


and, finally, its spreading "over the face of the whole country" is 
the reverse of a calamity! 

Such calamities were, however, dreaded and but too well known 
at Edessa. The river traversed the town. It took its name the 
"Jumper" from its sudden risings. On the one side there was the 
citadel and its rocky heights, on the other hand a flat "country." 
The poet of Odes iv and vi lives or has lived in Edessa. He wrote 
either before or after the terrible flood of A.D. 201. The proba- 
bility is rather before, because the controversy behind Ode iv does 
not seem to be violent, and because he would not so easily have 
turned a real calamity into the edifying allegory of Ode vi. Of 
course, there had been floods at Edessa before 201 A.D., and every- 
body knew how limited the powers of the "Restrainers of the 
waters" were, whenever things began to look serious. The exposed 
position of the "church" or "temple" was common knowledge, and 
also the faith, that expected special protection from God in such 
an emergency. Finally the peculiar use of the word haykeld for 
a Christian church, might point to Edessa and the Jewish ante- 
cedents of its Christian community. The common meaning is 
"palace" or "temple." 

The Odes are not Bardesanian, but they come most probably from 
the town where he lived. Is it, perhaps, possible to locate them 
hi the history of the Edessene national Church? Is there, perhaps, 
a body of men to be found who were able to produce and to value 
this peculiar mixture of mysticism, baptismal imagery, spiritualized 
eschatology and personal religious life? It must have been a pecu- 
liar circle, for slavery is prohibited: (Ode xx, 5) "Thou shalt not 
acquire a stranger by the blood of thy soul." Such a thing was 
impossible for a State-church in a small and exposed borderland as 
Osrhoene was. A country that had to provide a considerable force 
of mounted archers, a town to which Rome had made the present 
of a mighty hippodrome (for the training and upkeep of its cavalry) 
could not in any official way try to discard slavery. In the Jewish 
sphere only the Essenes and the "Therapeutae" wherever one may 
wish to date them held this same view: another proof that such 
tenets in these days would have meant a social revolution. Oppo- 
sition to slavery being extremely rare in the ancient Church, one 
may guess that the Jewish propaganda, which had cleared the field 
for Christianity, had been deficient in orthodoxy. Popular Ju- 


daism, moreover, must have shown much the same traits as pop- 
ular religion in Islamic countries nowadays. There always is a 
vast amount of sectarian or other belief and practice tolerated hi a 
religion which lays all stress on the One God and the One Law. 

With the conversion of the King and the sort of establishment 
which the Edessene Church must have acquired after 202 A.D., 
the older type of believer retired to the background. He must 
have been disposed of long before; otherwise bishop 'Aqf could not 
have risked displeasure in high places by his excommunication of 
Bardesanes. On the other hand, no rehabilitation of Bardesanes 
followed after 202, when the Christian community became the 
King's Church. There must have been some crisis hi Church 
affairs at Edessa, 4 a tension between old and new, between the 
cultured and the ancient believers, between official Christianity and 
a less disciplined group which continued earlier traditions. 

Of such difficulties we have historical evidence. Eusebius. Hist. 
Eccl. v, 23 : 2. 3 has recorded the attempt of Serapion, the bishop 
of Antiochia to annex the national Church of Osrhoene to his See. 
He created a "bishop of Edessa," Palut, who succeeded in forming 
a rival "Catholic" community within the town the "Palutians" 
as they were called and maintained himself in this ambiguous 
position from 192-209. 

At this time the second outbreak of the Paschal controversy took 
place and one wonders who organized the writing of 18 letters by 
Osrhoenian communities to bishop Victor of Rome hi 190, or who 
presided over the Osrhoenian conciliabulum on this matter which 
must have occurred hi 197. The careers of the national bishops 
Hystaspes and 'Aqi did not allow them to lie on beds of roses. 

The interpretation of the protest against replacing the ancient 
sanctuary "by those which are younger" Ode iv: 3a may, there- 
fore, conceal another point, just as sharp, this time against the Pal- 
utians and their private congregations under a "Catholic" leader. 
It would not be surprising if there had already been some advice 
from court quarters to "peace" and "union," as the conversion of 
the King cannot have been unpremeditated and unprepared. 

4 Cf. Amidtiae Corolla, a volume of essays presented to J. Rendel Harris on 
the occasion of his Ixxxth birthday, pp. 244-355 "Date and Origin of the Epistle 
of the Eleven Apostles," 1933. 


Also, the enigmatic expression "haykeld d'idthH dkristian6" 
can be explained in this connection: "temple" (haykeld) being the 
name of the building, and " f idthd," i.e. "Church" from the 
Hebrew 'edah with its 0. T. associations being both the ancient 
and the native Christian community. The protest against "Catho- 
lic" disruption might in itself explain part of the language of Ode iv, 
but it does not account for the imagery floods and restraining of 
floods of both Odes iv and vi. 

But our thesis does not depend on these Odes only. Burkitt's 
classic Lectures on Early Eastern Christianity, especially pp. 127-154, 
have shed much light on the early history of the Edessene Church. 
It offered a number of rather striking peculiarities! Not the whole 
Church e.g. was baptized according to early Syriac custom, but 
only those who renounced marriage. Not that this renunciation 
was deemed exceedingly meritorious or extraordinary; it seems 
rather to have been self-evident. These men and women, or even 
virgins, who followed the 'angelic life,' were called 'Sons' and 
'Daughters of the Covenant,' bnay and bnath qeydmd. 6 Here we 
have the sort of circle, brotherhood or group we were looking for 
because of then* abolition of slavery and they fit the Odes to a 
nicety, because the Odist (or Odists) was not only himself a peculiar 
type of Christian, but in many Odes the community or the audience 
itself is also exalted above the common. There is often a mention 
of "sacrifice" and of "victory," and also of a peculiar "peace" as 
the privilege of this community (e.g. Odes viii, 8, ix, 6, x, 2, xi, 3, 
xxv, 2, xxxvi, 8 "shelami"), which goes best with an asceticism 
like that of the Bnay Qeyam&, the "Sons of the Covenant." In 
fact several of our "Odes of Solomon" announce themselves as 
"Odes of Sonship" or as "Odes of the Qeyamd": Ode iii, 9; xxxi, 4; 
xxxvi, 3; xli, 2, and what seems decisive Ode ix, 11 runs: 

"Put on the crown in the True Covenant of the Lord" 

The "baptismal" character of the Odes, which was rightly em- 
phasized by Bernard and others, agrees with this. And other 

6 To Wensinck's view (z. D. M. G. LXIV, 561, 291, 812 [1910]) Burkitt replied in 
"Euphemia and the Goth with the Acts of Martyrdom of the Confessors of Edessa," 
p. 173, 1913; "The Sons of the Qyamd are those whose way of life is that of the saints 
of God, the approved details varying from age to age. I venture to think it always 
included a promise. ..." 


characteristics, which seemed to be conflicting, come to unison in 
this circle of the "Sons of the Covenant." It may even account 
for the curious impression of unity of authorship, at least of lan- 
guage and style (cf. G. Kittel's study quoted above on p. 286), 
and the obvious inequality of poetical gifts. The great difference 
in the subjects of the Odes is also explicable on this hypothesis 
of a group these "Sons of the Covenant" consisting of people 
of exalted religious sentiments. 

This hypothesis also accounts quite naturally for the slender tra- 
dition on one hand, and, on the other hand for its persistency. 
Among monastic communities, even many centuries later, a cognate 
spirit recognized its own and took care to preserve it. For the 
same reason Coptic, Greek and Latin translations were made, evi- 
dently by and for the use of a select few. One may guess that the 
Bible, from which ultimately the canon-list of Nicephorus was 
derived, reposed hi a monastic library. The "Odes" were counted 
there under one heading with the "Psalms" of Solomon, and, if 
one maintains their Greek origin because their Syriac might seem 
somewhat indifferent, the real translation-Syriac of the Psalms 
should be carefully compared. 

Finally, the Edessene origin of the Odes may help to explain the 
genesis of the Solomonic title for this collection, which is so essen- 
tially different from all other Solomonic apocrypha, and especially 
from the Psalms of the Pharisees, with which it became acciden- 
tally associated. 

One may guess, that these hymns can hardly have been ascribed 
to Solomon by the original author (s). The title must have crept in 
somewhere in the course of tradition. It might have been intro- 
duced deliberately, in order to shield their somewhat peculiar and 
unorthodox character. In that case the name of Solomon appears 
to be a peculiarly shrewd and felicitous invention. But we can 
do without it, and that is, perhaps, a slightly more probable means 
of accounting for the fact. It may be assumed, however, that the 
collection had some title from the very beginning. If this original 
title had some transcriptional affinity to the name of Solomon, an 
unintentional change might be the explanation. 

Such a title may be discovered : in Ode xxvi, 3 the author speaks 
of the "Odes of His Rest." In Odes viii-xi, xxv and xxxvi, how- 


ever, shelamd is a prominent subject. Odea of His Peace might very 
well have been the original title, of which xxvi, 3 is a variant. In 
Syriac this would make : Zmirthe dashelameh, which would readily 
suggest the more advantageous Zmirthe dashelimdn Odes of Solo- 
mon. The transition is so easy that it might have come about as a 
bonafide correction, or by an accident. In itself this point is, per- 
haps, not evidence, but it may serve as corroborative proof of our 
hypothesis of the Edessene origin of the Odes and of their character 
as ^aX/tol ISiwTifcoi of the "Sons of the Covenant," the ascetic and 
baptized part of the earliest Christian community in Edessa. 

The date of the Odes is, in this case, no longer a matter of uncer- 
tainty. They must have been composed after Serapion's prepos- 
terous act hi creating a "Catholic" see at Edessa and the conse- 
quent struggle between the "old" and the "younger" sanctuary, 
possibly after the great flood of the Scirtus in 201 A.D., when the 
discussion about the spot on which the "temple" should be reerected 
was still hot: between 192 and 201 A.D., perhaps a short tune 
after this last date. 

We do not know how long these "Sons of the Covenant" survived 
as a kind of institution. We do not know whether these Odes 
were used by them in private worship, though the form of several 
Odes suggests that they were. For the official worship of the 
Church as we know it from a later tune they seem to have been 
less frequently employed. And as the "Sons of the Covenant" 
were never, as far as we see, a Greek institution, the Odes must 
have appeared to the Greek world as ^aXjuoi IStwnKoi, i.e. as religious 
poetry of an entirely private character. 

As such they may occasionally have passed the entrance of some 
monastic church and even have penetrated to its choir. For the 
lix th canon of the Council of Laodicaea had to provide against such 
cases : #rt ov See iSicoruouj ^aXjuofc X^ycotfat iv T$ tiaduiffiq. ov8k &Kav6viffra 
jSijSXta, dXXd n&va TO. na.vovi.Ka. rfjs IlaXcuas Ka.1 Katies Aia^Kijs. It is 
just possible that the Odes had found some acceptance among these 
private hymns even in the Greek world as they well deserved to 
do for Bernard ("The Odes of Solomon," T. & ST. VIII, 3, 1912, 
p. 14) found occasion to refer to Ryle and James's "Psalms of the 
Pharisees," pp. xxiii-iv for the remarkable fact, that in the xii th 
century Zonaras and Balsamon commenting on the Laodicaean 
canon have connected the name of Solomon with these condemned 


"private Psalms." Now the well-known Psalms of Solomon were, 
strictly taken, not "private" but avowedly apocryphal. They be- 
longed to the &Kav6viffTa rather than to the ISuomd. Of course 
there is not much in this, as these commentators of the secular 
and ecclesiastial canons and of the Nomocanon were people of curi- 
ous lore and may have had access to some canon-list of the type 
which Nicephorus had used three centuries. before. It would be 
very rash to conclude from their words that they ever had even a 
second-hand acquaintance with the Odes of Solomon. 

It is to be hoped that the interpretation of the Odes on the 
hypothesis of their Edessene origin, dating them 192-201 A.D., will 
be attempted and may lead to a revival of interest in these rare 
documents of early Christian faith and life. Personally I think 
that such an interpretation, as far as my experience goes, tends to 
clear up most of the difficulties. It disposes of the idea of a poet 
"impersonating Solomon" and consciously producing a pseudepi- 
graphon. It avoids the strained interpretations of the Grund- 
sc/&n$-hypothesis in its various forms, and it has the advantage 
of discouraging over-subtle exegesis. A decided advantage of our 
view of the date and habitat of the Odist(s) is the fact that we now 
see the typically "Johannine" element as a characteristic of a 
conservative "Vulgarchristentum" in the centre of Eastern Chris- 
tianity, Edessa, at the end of the ii d century. It must have been 
there at least half a century before and it is not connected with 
the Thomas- and Addai-traditions. It must, therefore, have been 
fairly general in early Eastern Christianity. This observation 
squares with the presence of a cento of Johannine phraseology in 
the "Fragments of a Lost Gospel and other Christian Papyri" (ed. 
H. I. Bell and T. C. Skeat, London, 1935). There is, perhaps, 
more of "John" at the root of Eastern Christianity, and "John" 
is decidedly less Greek 6 than was formerly supposed. For the study 
of this important element in the history of the Christian message 
and for the better understanding of it, the Odes are an invaluable 
document. Certainty about their origin, character and date is, 
therefore, very desirable. 

6 Cf. C. C. Torrey, Our Translated Gospels, New York, 1926. Though much 
of the argument cannot stand, I think he has given evidence, part of which 
amounts to proof, that at least the Fourth Gospel is a translation of an Aramaic 
document and contains a stronger Jewish eschatological and Messianic element 
than was generally admitted. 


Harvard University 

The Books of Samuel in Hebrew may be compared to the 
painting of an old master that has been retouched and restored 
during several centuries. The technique of X-ray photography 
discloses the original painting hidden under the work of later 
hands; likewise, modern criticism, 1 with more subjective methods, 
has attempted to identify the great historical masterpiece buried 
under the literary accumulation of a millennium. 2 Both form 
and substance prove that this great book was written by a single 
author living hi the tune of David and Solomon. The historical 
accuracy of the original work is unsurpassed (I Sam. 9-10; 20; 
II Sam. 24, hi their present form, can hardly be intact) ; conversa- 
tions and speeches are of course reported ad sensum rather than 
verbatim (cf. II Sam. 18, 5 12). The author is not only the true 
"father of history," but stands supreme among the writers of 

1 Modern research on Samuel begins with the commentary of Thenius (1842). 
A useful list 'of the most important publications is given by Ivar Hylander, 
Der literarische Samuel-Saul-Komplex (Dissertation), Uppsala, 1932; pp. 315- 
319. The following works should be added to that list: 0. H. Bostrom, 
Alternative Readings in the Hebrew of the Books of Samuel, Rock Island, 
111., 1918. M. H. Segal, Studies in the Books of Samuel, Jewish Quarterly 
Review, New Series, Vols. V-X, 1914-1920. The Introductions to the Old 
Testament of S. R. Driver, J. A. Bewer, K. Budde, E. Sellin, G. F. Moore, 
Oesterley and Robinson (1934), and 0. Eissfeldt (1934). 

2 Disregarding for the moment the glosses and restoring what seems to have 
been the original order of the chapters, I would assign to the original work 
the following sections: I Sam. 4$ 1-7, 1; 9, 1-10, 16; 10, 27b-ll, 11 15; 13, 
2-7a 15b-18 23; 14, 1-46 52; 16, 14-23; 18, 6-9 20 22-29a; 19, 11-17; 20 (?); 
21, 1-10; 22, 6-23; 23, 1 5-14a; 25, 2-44; 26; 27; 29; 30; 28; 31. II Sam. 1-5; 
21, 15-22; 23, 8-39; 6; 24; 21, 1-14; 9-20. I Kings 1; 2, 13-46a. The ref- 
erences are given according to the versification of the Hebrew text, which 
differs from that of the English Bible in the following sections: I Sam. 19, Ib 
(Hebr.) - 19, 2a (Engl.); I Sam. 21, 1-16 (Hebr.) = 20, 42-21, 15 (Engl.); 
24, 1-23 (Hebr.) - 23, 29-24, 22 (Engl.); II Sam. 19, 1-44 (Hebr.) = 18, 
33-19, 43 (Engl.). 



Hebrew prose: his expert use of syntax and of apposite idiomatic 
expressions, his classic style, combining nobility and simplicity, 
the vividness of his descriptions and characterizations, have sel- 
dom, if ever, been surpassed in the literature of mankind. 8 

During the course of two centuries (750-550 B.C.) this his- 
torical work, dating from the tune of Solomon, was supplemented 
at various tunes with stories and speeches of diverse origin. 4 
This material lacks the dramatic unity, the genuine historicity, 
and the superb style of the earlier source: at its best (I Sam. 1: 
one of the few sections dated before 650 B.C.) it offers haggadic 
legends; at its worst it presents stories and speeches concocted 
to glorify Samuel and David and to vilify Eli and Saul. The 
monarchy is now regarded as an apostacy hi its inception and 
as a curse in its later stages. As a whole this material marks the 
beginning of that historical midrash of which the Books of 
Chronicles, three or four centuries later, are the best example. 

The Deuteronomic editors of the books from Genesis to Kings 
(ca. 550 B.C.) suppressed I Sam. 28 and the ancient parts of II 
Sam. 9-24; these sections were however inserted again into the 
book before the time of the Chronicler, who read them in their 
present incorrect place. Otherwise the Deuteronomic edition 
was perfunctory: it supplied chronological data, 6 historical and 

8 The first guess as to the identity of the author is that of I Chron. 29, 29, 
where the biography of David is attributed to Samuel, Nathan, and Gad (cf. 
H. M. Wiener, Orientalistische Literaturzeitung 1928, Sonderheft: the Books 
of Samuel are the combination of a Nathan and of a Gad source). Critical 
opinion oscillates between Abiathar (B. Duhm, Das Buch Jeremia, p. 3) and 
Ahimaaz (A. Klostermann, Die Biicher Samuelis und der Konige, 1887; p. 
xxxiif). II Sam. 15, 27-29; 17, 17-21 embody the reminiscences of Jonathan 
the son of Abiathar or of Ahimaaz the son of Zadok, but only Ahimaaz could 
have originally related the incidents reported in 18, 19-32. The interest of 
the author in the vicissitudes of the ark of Shiloh (I Sam. 4-6; II Sam. 6), admit- 
ting that Zadok was the mysterious Ahio (see W. R. Arnold, Ephod and Ark, 
p. 62), would be easily understood if Ahimaaz wrote the original Book of 

4 The following sections, which include some minor glosses to be discussed 
later, may be assigned to this secondary source: I Sam. 1; 2, 11-26; 3; 7, 3-17; 
8; 10, 17-27a; 11, 12-13; 15; 17; 18, l-6a 10-16 21 30; 19, 1-10 18-24; 21, 11-16; 
22 15* 23 1925 1 

' 6 1 Sam. 4, 15 18b; 7, 2; 27, 7; II Sam. 2, 10-11; 5, 4-5; I Ki. 2, 11. The 
chronology for Saul (I Sam. 13, 1) leaves the numbers blank and belongs to a 
later redaction; that of his son (II Sam. 2, 10) is patently wrong (cf. v. 11) 
and may likewise be a later gloss. 


statistical summaries, 8 and the last instructions of David to 
Solomon (I Ki. 2, 1-12). 7 

The canonization of the Pentateuch about 400 B.C. gave a 
fresh impulse to the study and annotation of the Books of Samuel, 
as also of the rest of the prophetic canon, closed about 200 B.C. 
The Jewish community hi Jerusalem, restored by Nehemiah's 
zeal and reforms to vigorous life, found its inspiration hi the 
glorious past of the nation, hi the observance of the Law of 
Moses, and hi the utopic vision of a future Davidic kingdom. 
Although this interest hi history, law, and messianism appears 
conspicuously in the interpolations into the books of Samuel 
dating from these two centuries (400-200 B.C.), as notably hi II 
Sam. 7, the chief result of the canonization of the Pentateuch was 
to place the study and meditation of a sacred book at the very 
center of religious life (Ps. 1). Education and piety became in- 
separable: the Synagogue was both a place of worship and a 
school, the interpretation of the Law and of other ancient books 
became the duty and the privilege not only of the professional 
scholars, but of every true Jew. Not only scribes, but ordinary 
readers as well, annotated then* books to convince themselves 
that they really understood them: Tenet insanabile multos 
Scribendi cacoethes. 8 

This miscellaneous material that came into the text from the 
margins of manuscripts or was composed ad hoc (except for two 
Psalms taken from anthologies, I Sam. 2, 1-10; II Sam. 22 = 
Ps. 18) comprises the following sections: 

I Sam. 1, 6 7 ( rtfDJDn p ) 9 ( HW HPttO ) llb|3 20 (TMTI 

run) 21 crron*o); 2, 1-10 (Psalm) [2, 2: jn'af'N'a] 17 

(nrOO) 22b 23 (rfttf . . . D'jn DyO-rnK) 27-36; 3, 6 (Dpl) 
13 On "rate Jljn); read DVfW for Drf?; 20-21; 4, la 4 (jQg. . . 
D3"On SB") 8 10 (30,000!) 11 (read: DTfrNrt; omit: Hophni and' 

6 1 Sam. 14, 47-51; II Sam. 3, 2-5; 5, 13-16; 8. This last chapter marks the 
conclusion of the Deuteronomic book. 

7 The Deuteronomists also added "of the covenant" to "ark" in I Sam. 4, 
3-5; in II Sam. 15, 24 this addition is much later, as also the gloss "which 
dwelleth between the cherubim" in I Sam. 4, 4. 

8 This naive exegesis was, unwittingly, well characterized by an aunt of 
Adolf Harnack: when her learned nephew expressed surprise that her literary 
circle should be reading as difficult a book as that of Ezechiel, she promptly 
replied, "When we do not understand, we interpret." 


Phineas) 17 (read: np'W as in v.ll; omit: Hophni and Phineas) 
20b 21 (from ION 1 ? to the end of the verse); 5, 5 6 

nK) 9 (rnfT T) lOba; 6, 5aa 6 lib 15 17-18 19 

. . . DJD ?p); 7, 3 (nrWym) 4 (ninBtyfTTKO) 9 

12 16 C?lW-nN) 9, 1 (tT'N) 9 13b (the first intf) 15- 
17; 10, 8 9ap 12 16b 18-19 22 (the second Tiy) 23b; 11, 7 (iron 
"MOBBO 8b 12 (add K 1 ? after ^W) 14 15 (0*8^); 12, 1-25 
[12,11 (read p&'8B> instead of "WIOBO 13 (Dn'WB' Itr'K) 21 (3)]; 
13, 1 3ba 4 Caton) 5 (from D'B^tT to 31 1 ?) 7b-15a 19-22; 14, 
3a 14a (?WfOn) 14b 18b (corrupt: see Arnold, Ephod and Ark, 
p. 16) 23 (read prrn3 1J7) 28 (last two words) 35b 41 C?N) 47 
(read ]W-V[LXX] forjT8n); 15, 4a (200,000!) 4b 20 CUfi>'N) 23 
(read pIK for pK) 27-29; 16, 1-13 18apb 19 (|N3 Ifi^'N); 17, 1 

(rmn^ IB^K) 12 (nrn; D mo^ 1 1 ?!) i3a o^n) i3b is 23 
(run 18^ ^nty^fln JT^) 38b 40 ( ft -IPK ojnn ^a) 41 48b 52b 

54; 18, 6 (from 31^3 to n l ?Jn) 12bl6 (minn) 17-19 21b 26b 27 
(200!; T)^ 1 ? DINtol) 29b-30; 19, 2-3 5a 7a 10 (Tp31); 20, laa 
(to N3'l) 40-42; 21, 6 C?H Tpl Kim) 10 ( ffWH pOJ73 n3n-WN) 
12 (pNrt ^8); 22, 5 18 (13) 19; 23, 2-4 10 (from JW j?OB^ to 
the end) 11 (to 1T3; c nty 'ffttf iTWT) 14a (tin-*)3-183 1H3 
3B>1) 14b-18 19 (from n^3J3 to the end); 24, 14; 25, 3 ( Kim 
13^3 ) 22 (3N) 28-31 44; 26, 5 (from TBte to Dlp8H-n); 27, 
3b 6b 8b 11; 28, 3 17-18 19b; 29, 4 (the second DW?fl ntT) 5; 
30, 5 9b 14 (from WK J ?m to 3^3) 16 (min pNOl) 18b 19b 
25 27-31; 31, 3 (ntfp3 D^JN) 4 (the second JTpT1) 6 C?3 DJ 
VBfJN) 7 ([TV!! 13^3 It^NI . . . H ")33; , cf . I Chron. 10, 7) 9 
(read DiTrfW HK ntrS 1 ?). 

ii Sam. i, i (mi? ni8 nrw) 2 C?wsr' DJD) 4 (man) 6 

s ? -MBr?) 8 18a (mW-J3) 18b 21 (^3) ; 2, 16b 23 (the second 

nan) 31 one); 3, 6a 9-10 12 (pN itf? -lax 1 ?) 14 15 (ne>3 B^K) 

18b 22 (1 in H3tf and W3H D8^ 31 ^B^l) 30; 4, ,2b-4 6 7 (to 
133^8); 5, 1-2 5 (from) 6 (from the second 18^ to the end) 7 
Cm W NH) 8 (from nNI to the end) 10 (*rf?X ) 11-12 20-24 
25 (|3); 6, 1 2 (Dpn; D^'; DO13H 3B) 3 (the second ntrin) 4 


(to nittD) 5 8-9 13 15 17 (&tb\V\) 18 (D'O^'fil) 19 (from 
to ntfN) 21 (read W'MJ for TpniJ>) 23; 7, 1-29; 8, 6b 11-12 

14 (from to to D3VJ) 17 OlDTWrp; TnWp); 9, 13b; 10, 6 
(31CD P'W BN ?fW) 7 (DnaffT) 8 (DID tfW) 15-19a; 11, 9 

11 (.mm) 21 (as far as pro); 12, 7b-8 9a (131) 9b-12 14 
3K); 13, 17 0m0to) 18a 32 (?f?OPri3) 34 (DV?#3N 
37b-38; 14, 14 (beginning with SPITI) 26a (fromfWn to 
26b (200!) 27 (?) 28b; 15, 7 (read 4 for 40) 24 (intf D^I 
transpose ->rON ty'l [jussive] after DWD in v. 27) 25-26; 16, 
13 (last three words) 15 (DJM) 18 (?tniP tfW'TO'O 23; 17, 14b 
25b; 18, 15 18 29 ("j^n WnN) (read HN for n*0) 31 (the 
second HStoPI); 19,5 (the second T^Of!) 12b (Ifl'S^N) 37 ( TIN 
JYW) 41 (beginning with DJTl) 42 (beginning with !); 20, 23-25 
(=8, 16-18); 21, 2b 3 (to DUJDJil) 7 9 (fromrftnn to the end) 

15 (TO) 19 (the first DTIN); 22, 1-51 ( =Ps.l8); 23, 1-7 (Psalm) 
13b-14a; 24, la 9 (800,000 and 500,000!) lla lib (N3Jn) 13 
(read 3 for 7) 15 (70,000!) 25 (D'O^'l) [24, 10-19 represent a 
midrashic rewriting of the old source]. I Kings 2, 24 27b. B 

For the most part this miscellaneous midrash seems to belong 
to the period 400-200 B.C., although some may date from the 
preceding century and some is demonstrably later. About 250 
B.C. the Chronicler found most of this midrash hi his book of 
Samuel, but some deliberate textual changes 10 and some glosses 11 

9 Neither textual corruptions of accidental origin have been considered in 
this list, nor the deliberate change of pltt (ark) to 11BK (ephod) in 
I Sam. 2, 28; 14, 3; 21, 10; 22, 18; 23, 6 9; 30, 7 (and 14, 18 in the LXX) which 
has been proved by W. R. Arnold in his monograph Ephod and Ark. Minor 
changes like the substitution of "bosheth" for "baal," and of "Assyria" for 
"Asher" (II Sam. 2, 9) will be mentioned later. 

10 The change of "their gods" to "their idols" was made before the time 
of the Chronicler in I Sam. 31, 9 (cf. I Chron. 10, 9), but after his time in II 
Sam. 5, 21 (cf. I Chron. 14, 12). The Chronicler still uses Esh-Baal and 
Merib-Baal, whereas Samuel has Ish-bosheth (Ishwi = 'Ish-Yahweh in I 
Sam. 14, 49) and Mephi-bosheth (the emendation was overlooked only in I 
Sam. 12, 11, where we read Jerubbaal; contrast II Sam. 11, 21). The reading 
"for me" (I Chron. 17, 12) is earlier than "for my name" (II Sam. 7, 13). 

11 The text of Samuel contains glosses lacking in Chronicles in: I Sam. 31, 7 
(cf. I Chron. 10, 7); II Sam. 5, 10 (cf. I Chron. 11, 9); 10, 6 (cf. I Chr. 19, 7); 
24, lla (I Chr. 21, 9). 


are still unknown to the Chronicler. Although the LXX version 
has midrashic additions lacking in the Masoretic text, at tunes 
it has a considerably shorter text, as in I Sam. 17-18, where it 
omits, inter alia, some glosses found in the Hebrew. The so- 
called Lucianic recension of the LXX, (published by Lagarde) 
followed by the Vetus Latina, is not seldom translated from a 
purer and earlier text than our Masoretic text. Even such com- 
paratively late versions as the Targum (for which see I Sam. 11, 
12; II Sam. 1, 21) and the Syriac (for which see I Sam. 2, 17) 
bear witness to a Hebrew text that, in these passages, had not 
yet been subjected to wilful changes. 

The authors of the midrash hi Samuel share with the Chroni- 
cler an utterly imaginary picture of the time of David, but they 
are decidedly inferior to him from the point of view of style and 
thought. Although his style cannot compare with that of the 
original source of Samuel (contrast II Sam. 24, 3 with I Chron. 
21, 3), the Chronicler can express himself concisely, clearly, and 
even with imaginative touches. 12 When confronted with the 
wretched grammar and dreary style of II Sam. 7, the Chronicler 
is impelled to make some improvements. 13 Whatever may be 
our opinion of the Chronicler as an historian, his importance as 
the first apologist of Judaism cannot be gainsaid. He boldly 
sets out to prove, against the claims of the heathens and of the 
Samaritans, that the temple at Jerusalem is the religious center 
of mankind. Negatively he argues that the Judeans left in their 
country by Nebuchadrezzar and especially the Samaritans are 
racially and religiously impure a miscellaneous heathen mob 
from which the true Israel must keep itself strictly aloof. Posi- 
tively he magnifies the past glory of the kingdom of Judah beyond 
the grasp of the most vivid imagination; he exalts the Temple as 
the abode of the only true God, commending its worship as the 
only legitimate one and its priests and Levites as the heirs of 
sacred orders reaching back, through an unimpeachable succes- 
sion, to a dun antiquity. 

In glorifying the kingdom of David the Chronicler calmly 
states that this king commanded an army of more than one 
million and a half men and that he set aside more than three 

12 1 Chron. 11, 23 (cf. II Sam. 23, 21); 12, 9 16 17-19; etc. 

18 Cf., e.g., II Sam. 7, 8 11 13 14-15 2327 with I Chron. 17, 5 10 12-13 21 25. 


billion gold dollars for the building of the temple! 14 In the 
glosses in Samuel the figures have not yet reached these imposing 
totals, but are rather impressive nevertheless. Seventy men died 
at Beth Shemesh through the plague, but a glossator gratuitously 
adds 50,000 to this number (I Sam. 6, 19) ; 30,000 other Israelites 
fell, if we believe the midrash, hi the battle of Aphek (4, 10). 
Saul mustered 330,000 soldiers according to 11, 8b, 16 and 200,000 
on a later occasion (15, 4a). 18 The forces of the Philistines at 
the battle of Michmash comprised no less than 30,000 (LXX: 
3,000) chariots, 6,000 horses, and innumerable foot soldiers (13, 5). 
To bring the ark to Jerusalem, David called out 30,000 chosen 
men (LXX B: 70,000), according to II Sam. 6, 1. The thousand 
men and the men of Tob (10, 6) were not yet included in the 
Aramean forces hired by the Ammonites when I Chron. 19, 7 
was written; among these Arameans David is said to have slain 
"700 chariots (sic!) and 40,000 horses" (10, 18)." Joab's census 
discloses that the army of David numbered no less than 800,000 
men of Israel and 500,000 men of Judah; 18 hi the plague that 
followed the census 70,000 men are said to have died (II Sam. 
24, 15; I Chron. 21, 14). 

Aside from these absurdly fantastic figures, the midrash has 
the tendency to exaggerate the importance of certain incidents. 
The Philistines did not send with the ark merely five golden mice 
(I Sam. 6, 4 11) but as many as there were cities and villages hi 

14 1 Chron. 21, 5-6; 22, 14; 29, 3-4 7-8. 

"The LXX raises the figure to 670,000 and Josephus (Ant. VI, 78) to 
770,000. According to the old records (I Sam. 13, 2), Saul's army numbered 

19 400,000 according to LXX B; only 10,000 according to LXX A. A gloss 
in 15, 4b, which is lacking in the Lucian-Lagarde LXX, adds 10,000 men of 
Judah (LXX B; 30,000; LXX A; 10,000). 

17 The glossator, whose knowledge of Hebrew was deficient, meant to say 
"700 charioteers and 40,000 horsemen." According to I Chron. 19, 18 the 
figures are 7,000 chariots and 40,000 foot soldiers. The Deuteronomist in II 
Sam. 8, 4 gives 1,700 horses (an error for 1,000 chariots and 700 horses) and 
20,000 foot soldiers (LXX and I Chron. 18, 4: 1,000 chariots, 7,000 horses, 
and 20,000 foot soldiers). 

18 II Sam. 24, 9. In I Chron. 21, 5 the figures become 1,100,000 men of 
Israel and 470,000 men of Judah (although the Arabic version in Walton's 
Polyglot retains the figures of Sam. in I Chron. 21, 5). LXX Lucian-Lagarde 
(II Sam. 24, 9) and Josephus (Ant. VII, 320) give 900,000 men to Israel and 
400,000 to Judah, obtaining the same total as the Masoretic text. 


all Philistia (6, 17-18). The Israelites had neither weapons nor 
smiths in the time of Saul (13, 19-22). Doeg slew not only the 
priests of Nob, but also all of the inhabitants of the town, includ- 
ing infants, and all domestic animals (22, 19). Not only an 
army of 30,000, as we have seen, but "the whole house of Israel," 
"the whole multitude of Israel, both men and women" (II Sam. 
6, 5 15 19b) joined David in transporting the ark to Jerusalem; 
according to this fanciful glossator, an ox and a fatling were 
sacrificed every six steps of the way (6, 13) , 19 

The historical midrash is absurd hi other ways as well. It 
contains glaring anachronisms, such as the assertions that David 
took the head of Goliath to Jerusalem, which was still a Jebusite 
stronghold (I Sam. 17, 54) and that Hiram built David a house 
(II Sam. 5, 11). The midrash is often proved false by more 
credible statements elsewhere hi Samuel. 20 It is characteristic of 
midrashic literature in general to supply picturesque details, 
which are wholly fictitious, to enhance the appearance of his- 
toricity (hi this and hi other respects the Fourth Gospel may be 
regarded as a midrash to the Synoptics) : such irrelevant or cir- 
cumstantial details are common in the midrash of Samuel. 21 

The biographical accounts of the chief characters are retouched 
hi the midrash so that they may illustrate the doctrine that 
success is evidence of divine favor, and vice versa. Hophni and 

19 It is obviously grossly exaggerated to say that all Saul's men died at 
the battle of Gilboa (I Sam. 31, 6; contrast v. 7) and that the men across 
the Jordan fled at the news of that defeat (31, 7; contrast I Chron 10, 7). 
"All" in II Sam. 11, 9 is a foolish gloss. 

20 1 Sam. 4, 20b (contrast w. 21-22); 17, 12 (David had seven brothers; 
according to 16,10 and I Chron. 2, 13-15 he had six); 18, 21b (contrast v. 22); 
II Sam. 18, 18 (contrast 14, 27 and I Kings 15, 2). The last thing David 
would have thought of doing, while he was dealing secretly with Abner, was 
to send an official embassy to Ishbaal (II Sam. 3, 14; in 3, 15 "Ishboaheth" 
is a gloss). 

21 1 Sam. 1, 6; 1, 7 ("and so she provoked her"); 1, 9 ("and after they had 
drunk," a clause lacking in the LXX); 11, 14b (different in the LXX); 17, 41 
48b 52b; II Sam. 3, 22 ("the servants of David and;" "and much spoil they 
brought with them"); 4, 4 (based on 19, 27 [Engl.26]; cf. 9, 13); 4, 6-7aa 
(the LXX has additional details); 14, 26a/3; 16, 13 ("and cast dust"); 18, 15; 
19, 41 [Eng. 40] ("and also half of the people of Israel"); 24, lla (omitted in I 
Chron. 21, 9). The account of the relations between Jonathan and David is 
embellished with fanciful stories (I Sam. 20, 40-42; 23, 14b-19). The gene- 
alogies in I Sam. 14, 3a and II Sam. 17, 25b are spurious. 


Phineas, who died heroically in battle, become vile scoundrels 
(I Sam. 2, 22b). The unfortunate Saul is not regarded as the 
legitimate king. 22 Conversely Samuel, a village seer according 
to the old source, is elevated to the position of vicar of God on 
earth: he becomes a Nazirite in his childhood (I Sam. 1, llbjS; 
hi the LXX likewise hi 1, 22 27), a great prophet (3, 20-21; 4, la; 
9, 15-17; cf. 9, 9), and the judge of all Israel, 23 before whom the 
people (12, 18) and the elders (16, 4) stand in fear and trembling. 
As for David, who rose to eminence through his wits and through 
fortunate circumstances, he becomes in this midrash, as in 
Chronicles, the national hero sans peur et sans reproche. Chosen 
by Jehovah (I Sam. 13, 14; cf. 15, 28) and anointed as long in 
his childhood (16, 1-13: his brothers, who witnessed the scene, 
knew nothing about it according to 17, 28), 24 he is celebrated for 
his qualities (16, 18aj8b) and for his piety (II Sam. 8, 11-12; 
15, 25-26). His deeds of valor are magnified, 28 he rules over 
the Assyrians (II Sam. 2, 9; contrast the ancient versions), and 
he is the object of the divine favor (I Sam. 18, 12b; II Sam. 5, 
10-12; 12, 7b-8). David is now "the sweet psalmist of Israel" 
(23, 1) and two late psalms are attributed to him (II Sam. 22 
[Ps. 18] and 23, 1-7 [cf. Ps. 89]). Divine promises foretell David's 

22 Saul was deposed by Samuel (I Sam. 13, 7b-15a; cf. 18, 12b; 28, 17-18' 
II Sam. 7, 15); by adding "not" (which is lacking in the Syriac, in the Targum, 
and in the Arabic), II Sam. 1, 21 is made to read, ". . . Saul, not anointed with 
oil." The omission of "not" in I Sam. 11, 12 (contrast the LXX, the Syriac, 
and the Targum), the change of "he was delivered" (LXX) into "he acted 
impiously" (14, 47), and the insertion of stories like that of 18, 17-19, are 
dictated by spite against Saul, the chronology of whose reign was deliberately 
left blank (13, 1). Even his daughter Michal evokes the Schadenfreude of a 
malicious reader (II Sam. 6, 23). 

21 Although I Sam. 7, 2-17 may have stood hi the secondary source, it is 
certainly later than the publication of Deuteronomy and has midrashic re- 
touches. In 11, 7 "and after Samuel" is a gloss; "Saul" was changed to 
"Samuel" hi 11, 13 in some texts of the LXX (cf. the LXX in 11, 12-15 in 
general); "Samson" was changed to "Samuel" in 12, 11 (contrast LXX Lucian- 
Lagarde and the Syriac); in 12, 13 "whom you asked for" is a gloss to "whom 
you have chosen." 

24 He is called "the king of the land" before Saul's and Ishbaal's death in 
I Sam. 21, 12 (cf. II Sam. 3, 12). 

25 In I Sam. 18, 26 "the time had not expired" (lacking in LXX B) is a 
gloss; in 18, 27 the hundred Philistines killed by David (cf. II Sam. 3, 14) are 
doubled (contrast the LXX). Joab's victory over the Arameans is attributed 
to David (II Sam. 10, 15-19a). 


achievements, which are ordained by Jehovah (I Sam. 13, 14; 
25, 28-31; 28, 17-18; II Sam. 3, 9-10 18b; 5, 2; cf. 7, 8; 8, 6b), 
and the eternity of his dynasty (II Sam. 7; 23, 1-7, cf. Ps. 89; 
I Kings 2, 24). 26 

The religion disclosed hi the midrash is totally different from 
that of the original source of Samuel. After 400 B.C. the Penta- 
teuch became the standard of belief and practice; as might be 
expected, it is quoted or referred to hi the midrash of Samuel.* 7 
Jehovah is now the sole god hi existence (I Sam. 2, 2; II Sam. 7, 
22; 22, 32) ; his glorious deeds in nature and hi history are praised 
hi two late psalms inserted hi Samuel (I Sam. 2, 1-10; II Sam. 22). 
God no longer repents of his actions (I Sam. 15, 29; contrast 
v. 35); He rewards and punishes men hi this life (II Sam. 12, 
10-12; 17, 14b). Non-Jews are considered idolaters, idolatry 
becomes an obsession. 28 Prophecy has been extinct so long that 
it is identified with foretelling 29 and the prophet is sometimes 
confused with the clairvoyant (I Sam. 9, 9) and the prognosti- 
cator (II Sam. 24, II). 30 The views on the priesthood, based 
on the Priestly Code, are set forth hi I Sam. 2, 27-36: all priests 
are sons of Aaron (v. 27) and their chief function is sacrifice 
(v. 28) ; all the priests named in Samuel except Zadok, contrary 
to the evidence of the ancient sources, are regarded as descendants 
of Eli (v. 27), whose line however was exterminated with the 
exception of one man (Abiathar, v. 33) . A faithful priest (Zadok) 
will be raised up in the place of the house of Eli and his descend- 

28 The glorification of David is related to the partiality shown to Judah, 
which played no historical rdle before David. As in the book of Hosea, the 
mention of Judah is often added irrelevantly: I Sam. 15, 4b; 17, 52a; 18, 16; 
30, 14 16; II Sam. 1, 18; 5, 5; 11, 11; 21, 2b; see also I Sam. 11, 8b; 15, 4b; 
27, 6b; II Sam. 12, 8. The unflattering mention of Judah in II Sam. 3, 8 is 
omitted in the LXX. 

27 1 Sam. 2, 22b 27-28; 4, 8; 6, 6; 10, 18-19; 12, 8; 15, 29 (cf. Num. 23, 19). 
The book of Judges is referred to in I Sam. 12, 9-11; II Sam. 11, 21aa. 

28 1 Sam. 4, 8; 12, 10 21; 13, 5; 14, 23; II Sam. 5, 21. Astarte figurines are 
added in I Sam. 7, 3 4. 

29 The spurious prophetic oracles contained in the midrash predict, post 
eventum, what will take place in the future (I Sam. 2, 27-36; 22, 5; II Sam. 7; 
12, 7b-12; 24, 10-14; cf. I Sam. 28, 17-18) and even hint obscurely at the 
coming Messianic king (II Sam. 7). 

30 The Chronicler (I 25, 1-3) identifies prophets and musicians; the Targum 
(I Sam. 10, 511) thinks of the ancient prophets as scribes. 


ants will officiate (at Jerusalem) forever; the descendants of Eli 
will beg a morsel of bread from the Zadokites (w. 35-36; I 
Kings 2, 27b). 81 The Levites are mentioned twice in the mid- 
rash as bearers of the ark (I Sam. 6, 15; II Sam. 15, 24), thus 
bringing the ancient narratives into harmony with the 
priestly laws (Num. 3, 31; 4, 15; Deut. 10, 8; cf. I Chron. 15, 2). 
Spurious priestly oracles are added (I Sam. 23, 2-4; II Sam. 5, 
22-24), a genuine one is expanded (I Sam. 23, 10aj3b-llaa). 
The term "peace offerings" (shelamtm), a favorite expression in 
the Priestly Code, is added to other terms for sacrifice hi I Sam. 
11, 15; 13, 9; II Sam. 6, 17 18; 24, 25 (cf. I Sam. 10, 8, which is a 
gloss); the term "whole offering" (kaM) has been added hi I 
Sam. 7, 9. In the vein of the Chronicler, the performance of 
orchestral music is added to the account of the transportation 
of the ark to Jerusalem (II Sam. 6, 5 15). 

In a number of instances the text of Samuel was deliberately 
altered for dogmatic reasons. The changes of "ark" into 
"ephod," of "Baal" into "bosheth" (shame), and of "gods" 
into "idols" have already been mentioned. 82 Expressions con- 
sidered blasphemous were eliminated either by the addition of a 
word 33 or by wilful corruption. 84 

81 Through a faked genealogy, Ahijah is connected with the priestly family 
of Nob and the latter with the line of Eli (I Sam. 14, 3a). The absurd con- 
nection of Zadok with the priests of Nob in II Sam. 8, 17 is merely the result 
of wrongly inserted marginal glosses and of the ensuing textual corruption 
(the original text occurs in II Sam. 20, 25) ; nevertheless this corrupt text 
furnished the Chronicler (I 6, 8) with a welcome family tree of the historical 
ancestor of the priests of Jerusalem. The omission of Abiathar by the side 
of Zadok in II Sam. 15, 24 27 seems to have been deliberate (cf. the gloss 
15, 25). 

82 See notes 9 and 10. In I Sam. 22, 18 "linen" (bad) was added to "ephod" ; 
LXX B omits the "ark" in 21, 10; 30, 7; in 15, 23 "ark" has been changed into 
"iniquity" (aweri); Beth-Awen in 13, 5 probably stands for Beth-Horon (LXX 
Lucian-Lagarde). The word D'lFID (boils), used in the glosses I Sam. 6, 
lib 17, was substituted in the reading of I Sam. 5, 6 9 12; 6, 4 5 (and Deut. 
28, 27) for the more vulgar word D'7BJJ. For other minor corrections 
see I Sam. 4, 11 17; 14, 41 in the general list above. 

38 "The offering" (I Sam. 2, 17; cf. the Syriac and Num. 16, 30); "the word" 
(II Sam. 12, 9); "the enemies" (12, 14; cf. I Sam. 25, 22). 

34 The original text of I Sam. 3, 13 (cf . LXX) read, "for his sons were cursing 
the deity": "the deity" (elohtm) was corrupted to "to them" (laheni) and, in 
addition, a substitute for public reading was provided ("for the iniquity which 


A third type of midrash, in addition to the historical and the 
religious, may be called exegetical. Some explanatory glosses 
are the contribution of professional scholars, who are probably 
responsible for a considerable part of the midrash already con- 
sidered, but many glosses, that contribute nothing to a perfectly 
lucid text, flow freely from the pen of readers whose piety is 
greater than their learning. 

Seven glosses 36 appeal (speciously) to contemporary evidence 
by using the expression "unto this day" and thus disclose the 
fact that they were written a considerable time after the events 
narrated (the mention of "kings of Judah" in I Sam. 27, 6b 
cannot be earlier than the division of the kingdom). These and 
other learned glosses explain the origin of geographical names 
(I Sam. 7, 12; II Sam. 2, 16b; 5, 20; 6, 8), of proverbs (I Sam. 
10, 12 [based on 19, 24b]; 24, 14; II Sam. 5, 8b), of laws (I Sam. 
30, 25), and of customs (5, 5); they describe the dress of princes- 
ses for readers living long after the end of the monarchy (II 
Sam. 13, 18a); they supply historical, geographical, and topo- 
graphical information. 36 

The notes explaining individual words are either erroneous or 
superfluous. As we have seen, the clairvoyant (I Sam. 9, 9) 
and the prognosticator (24, 11) are mistakenly identified with the 
prophet; likewise the "host," composed of able bodied civilians, 
is erroneously confused with the "heroes" (gibbortm), a small 
standing army of mercenary troops (II Sam. 10, 7) ; the glossator 
who added "that mar your land" in I Sam. 6, 5 failed to perceive 
the close connection, well understood by the Philistines, between 
mice and pestilence. The explanation of the mysterious "yalqut" 
(17, 40) as "the shepherd's thing which he had" is a pure guess 
and not illuminating at that. When the subject of a verb, 

he knows;" in the LXX: "f or the iniquity of his sons;" in the Syriac: "namely 
that these sons of his dishonored the people"). In II Sam. 6, 21 the original 
text "I have exposed myself before the Lord" was corrupted by the omission 
of "I have exposed myself;" "I have danced before the Lord" is a surrogate 
from the margin. 

35 1 Sam. 5, 5; 6, 18; 27, 6b; 30, 25; II Sam. 4, 3; 6, 8; 18, 18. 

36 1 Sam. 6, 17; 17, 1 ("which belongs to Judah"); 25,3 ("and he was a 
Calebite"); 27, 6b 8b; 30, 27-31; II Sam. 4, 2b-3; 21, 2b. According to the 
gloss in II Sam. 1, 18b, David's elegy over Saul and Jonathan was "written 
in the Book of Poetry" (reading T for 


owing to the absence of the matres kctionis, was ambiguous, not 
seldom the subject supplied is not the same in the Hebrew and 
in the LXX; the explicitum is often false in either or both texts. 87 
Even when the text is perfectly lucid, inane explanations 38 and 
tautological specifications 39 are added to the detriment of the 
style; in some cases such marginal glosses have wrought havoc 
with the syntax. 40 

The most useless type of midrash is that which merely repeats, 
more or less verbatim, the words of the text. In some cases 
such glosses anticipate prematurely some incident in the story, 41 
hi others they repeat it. 42 Even single words are erroneously 

87 S. R. Driver, Notes on the Books of Samuel. 2nd Edit. Oxford, 1913. 

as "These wicked things of yours" (I Sam. 2, 23; this gloss is ungrammatical 
in the Hebrew); "Hophni and Phineas" (4, 11 17); "Ashdod and its borders" 
(5, 6); the names of David's wives (27, 3b; 30, 5 18b); "men with the bow" 
explaining "archers" (31,3); "from Saul" (II Sam. 1,2); "to die" explains 
"to fall (in battle)" (1, 4; 2, 23; cf. 2, 31); "the inhabitants of the land" (5, 6); 
"the same is the city of David" (5, 7) ; "his servant" explaining "his boy" 
(13, 17); "the sons of the king" explaining "the young men" (13,32); "the 
people" explaining "the men of Israel" (16, 15); "all the men of Israel" explain- 
ing "this people" (16, 18). 

89 "And Hannah conceived" (I Sam. 1, 20); "and he arose" (3, 6); 6, lib; 
"that which Samuel had said" (10, 16b); "first" (14,14); 17, 13b; "and it 
was a profane undertaking" (21, 6; Engl. 5); "where Saul had pitched, and 
David saw the place" (26, 5); "that told him" (II Sam. 1, 6); "and all David's 
men with him" (19, 42). The gloss "and his vow" in I Sam. 1, 21 is pure 

40 "There" (I Sam. 4,4); "the hand of Jehovah" (5,9); "man" (9, Ib); 
the first "him" (9, 13b); the second "again" (10, 22); "for" (12, 21); "which" 
(15,20); "this" (17, 12); "they went" (17, 13); "so" (II Sam. 5, 25); "new" 
(6, 3b); "again" (21, 15). 

41 1 Sam. 4,21a0b (cf. 22); 9, 2b (cf. 10,23); 10, 9 (cf. v. 10); 13, 3 (cf. 
4b); 14,28 (cf. 31); 18, 12b (cf. 14); 19,2-3 (cf. ch. 20); 23,22 (cf. 23); 30, 
9 (cf. 10); II Sam. 1, 8 (cf. 9 13); 5, 1-2 (cf. 3); 6, 5 (cf. 14); 9, 13b (cf. 19, 
27 and 4, 4); 13, 34 (cf. 3738). 

42 1 Sam. 6, lib (cf. 8); 10, 23 (cf. 9, 2b); 15, 27-29 (cf. 20-26); 17, 23 (cf. 4); 
17, 38b (cf. 38a); 27, 11 (cf. 9-10); 28, 3a (cf. 25, 1); 28, 19b (cf. 19a); II Sam. 
5,6b ("saying, David shall not come hither"); 5,8 (cf. 6); 6,4 (cf. 3); 6,9 
(cf. 8); 9, 13a (lib); 12, 9b (cf. 9a); 13, 37b-38 (cf. 37a39); 14, 28b (cf. 24); 
19, 12b (cf. 12a); 19, 37 ("the Jordan" is a gloss due to v. 32); 21, 9bj8 (cf. 10). 
The names of David's brothers in I Sam. 16, 6-9 are taken from 17, 13b (only 
the names of the three oldest are given) ; 25, 44 is concocted out of II Sam. 
3, 15 and Is. 10, 30. 


repeated within a verse, 48 usually to the detriment of the clarity 
of expression. 

An attempt was made to eliminate some of the most glaring 
contradictions and inconsistencies, produced by the addition of 
incongruous narrative material to the original history, by means 
of harmonistic and transitional glosses. The glosses I Sam. 10, 8 
and 11, 14 (cf. 12, 12) represent unsuccessful efforts to reconcile 
the historical coronation of Saul at Gilgal (11, 15) with the 
imaginary selection of Saul as king by Samuel (10, 17-27) ; like- 
wise the gloss "to Gilgal" in 13, 4 prepares for the interpolation 
13, 7b-15a. For harmonistic purposes David is called prema- 
turely a military hero hi 16, 18; the phrase "who is with the 
sheep" (16, 19) and 17, 15 were added to bring 16, 14-23 into 
precarious accord with 16, 11 and 17, 17 ff. respectively; 17, 12 
is a similar attempt to reconcile the conflicting accounts hi chap- 
ters 16 and 17; and finally allusions to David's slaying of Goliath 
were introduced surreptitiously into the old source (parts of 
18, 6a and 21, 10 [Engl. 9]). 44 Other glosses merely mark the 
transition between unrelated narratives. 46 

Finally, when a reader reached the end of a particularly striking 
story, he felt impelled to add his own reflections on the matter 
or a concluding summary: see I Sam. 14, 35b; 17, 50; 18, 29b-30; 
II Sam. 3, 30; 16, 23; 17, 14b. 

It is clear from this rapid survey that the midrash in Samuel 
can contribute nothing to our understanding of the ancient his- 
tory and literature of Israel, i.e. nothing but misconceptions 
and blunders. Its value for us consists chiefly in the informa- 
tion that it furnishes on the early stages of Biblical learning and 

43 1 Sam. 9, 13; 19, 10 (the first "to the wall"); 29,4; 31,4 (the second 
"and thrust me through"); II Sam. 8, 14; 18, 29 31; 19, 5; 21, 19. 

^Other harmonistic glosses: "In the wilderness of Ziph" (I Sam. 23, 14); 
"in the hill of Hachilah which is on the south of Jeshimon" (23, 19; cf. 26, 1 
and 23, 24) ; 28, 3; II Sam. 4, 4 (cf. 9, 3) ; 21, 7; 23, 13b-14a (based on 5, 17b-18). 

45 1 Sam. 5, lOba (lacking in the Syriac); 19, 7a; 20, lao; II Sam. 1,1 
("after the death of Saul"); 3, 6a (required by the insertion of w. 2-5); 21, 3 
(added after the insertion of v. 2); 21, 15; 24, la (inserted after 21, 1-14, 
which originally followed ch. 24, was placed before it). 


Yale University 

In the translation Greek of the Bible, XP""^S is the rendering 
of either Hebrew fWO or Aramaic WWD, "anointed." In the 

translated documents of the New Testament the word is all but 
invariably an appellative, the title of the Anointed One, the "Mes- 
siah," the Deliverer of Israel, whose advent, long foretold and 
awaited, had at length been realized in the person of Jesus of Naza- 
reth. 1 The Gospels were compiled with the one definite ami of 
proving that the Nazarene is the Messiah of Hebrew scripture and 
Jewish faith, and they contain only such material as immediately 
serves this purpose. The Fourth Gospel states the fact concisely 
and distinctly (Jn. xx. 31), and it is everywhere obvious. They 
are, throughout, carefully prepared propaganda, addressed to 
the Jewish people and designed to convince them. This applies 
to the Third Gospel as well as to the others, for Luke's material is 
all Jewish and Semitic, by him merely arranged and rendered into 

Proof of Messiahship was proof of divinity; for several centuries 
past it had been the accepted doctrine that the coming Leader 
was a pre-existent divine being, held in reserve for the time when 
he should be incarnated in a descendant of David. And in fact, 
it is only in the divine Jesus that the Four Gospels are interested, 
only the qualities of a superhuman being that they intend to 
portray. "Anointed" is one of several descriptive titles that had 
long been in use as applied to the god-man of Hebrew theology: 
King, Servant, Son of God, Son of Man, Elect, Just, Holy One of 
God, Savior; all these taken directly from passages in the Old Testa- 
ment which were traditionally interpreted as Messianic. 

1 As to the Jewish hope of a coming champion and deliverer, and the principal 
"Messianic" passages in the Old Testament, matters in regard to which the 
current views have (as I think) been greatly in need of revision, I may refer to 
my recently published volume, Our Translated Gospels, Harper and Brothers, 1936. 



The Greek term for "Messiah" is therefore ordinarily determined 
by the definite article, 6 xpwrds (Aramaic MT#0), or occasionally 

by an accompanying noun or pronoun in the genitive case. Thus, 
in the Hebrew document rendered by Luke in the first two chapters 
of his Gospel, ii. 26, 6 xpwrbs wpiov (HVT IW'O). The same 

phrase, with omission of the article, as very commonly in transla- 
tion Greek, is to be seen in ii. 11, according to the probable emenda- 
tion adopted by many exegetes. The reading of our Greek mss. 
here is XPWT&S /cfyuos. 2 This is hardly Luke's mistranslation, but 
rather an alteration of the original Greek reading. The very same 
corruption is to be found in the Greek of Lam. iv. 20 and Ps. Sol. 
xvii. 36 (cf. xviii. 6, 8!). The strong probability is that in all these 
cases the alteration was made, whether deliberately or accidentally, 
by Christian copyists. 
Other examples of this nature: 6 xpioris TOV Ocov 

NITf^) Lk. ix. 20, xxiii. 35, cf. Acts ii. 36, Eev. xii. 10: 6 

afoov (IfTtJ'P), Rev. xi. 15, xii. 10, Acts iv. 26 (in a quotation). 

These and other similar phrases were familiar from the Old Testa- 
ment, and probably had been widely current in both literary and 
popular usage. Dalman, 1. c., arguing from the well known tend- 
ency of the later Jewish writers to avoid using the words "God" 
and "Lord," thinks that the expressions "Anointed of the Lord" 
and "Anointed of God" "wiirde nicht der gewohnlichen Redeweise 
des Volkes entsprechen," and consequently, that a Semitic original 
is not to be supposed in such cases. 

We know, however, very little indeed as to the extent of this 
tendency in the first century and the formulas of the Talmud can 
give us no help whatever. In general, we have no other testimony 
as to the popular speech in Palestine at this tune at all comparable 
to that furnished by our Gospels. Moreover, it would hardly be 
safe to appeal to the ordinary "mode of speech," even if we knew 
what it was; for we have abundant evidence that the Nazarenes 
retained in their writings as far as practicable the flavor of sacred 
scripture, which the rabbinical writers especially sought to avoid. 
And aside from any question as to the original words of Peter's 

2 Gustaf Dalman, Worte Jesu, p. 249, retains the traditional text, and has a 
curious way of explaining it. Theophilus, he thinks, would not understand the 
word xpiarbs (though according to Luke he had been "instructed in these things"), 
and therefore Luke would explain it to him by appending the word /cuptoj. 

Xpurr6s 319 

alleged confession of Jesus as the Messiah (which is the subject of 
Dalman's discussion here), it may be supposed that the author of 
the Aramaic text rendered here in the Third Gospel was as good 
an exponent of Palestinian modes of thought and speech as was 
the author of Mark. 

In several passages hi the Gospels 6 xpiarh is joined to, or inter- 
changed with other Messianic titles. Thus Jn. xi. 27, xx. 31, 6 
XPHTTOS 6 vlds TOV Btov, rendering fctrfrg "13 N(T#0; Mt. xvi. 

16 (parallel to Mk. viii. 29, Lk. ix. 20), 6 XPUTTOS 6 vl6s rov Qeov TOV 
(NTT .K 3 .D) ; Mk. xiv. 61, 6 xP^rte o vlds TOV eihoyriTov 

? PH3 ,D). In Lk. iv. 41 (cf. Mk. in. 11) 6 vi6s 

TOV 0fov is immediately after, in the same verse, interpreted by 
6 XptffT6s. Mk. xv. 32 has 6 XP^TOS 6 fiaff&evs 'Lrpa^X (NfTtPO 
/tiTtilP ^P)> while in the parallel passages Mt. xxvii. 42 omits 

6 xpwris, and Lk. xxui. 35 has 6 XP""& TOV 8cov 6 IK\KT&S (H't^O 
tfTn? Nrfttf), ( c f. l s . xlii. 1). Jn. xii. 34 equates 6 xp"-6s with 
6 vl6s TOV &v0p&irov (K^Jftf ^3). 

In the native Semitic speech of Bible times "Messiah" was not 
used by the Jews as a proper name. The fact has been remarked 
by several scholars, most recently by Dalman (Worte Jesu, pp. 
239 ff.), that in the rabbinical writings of a later day, and espe- 
cially in the Babylonian Talmud, the word, whether Hebrew or 
Aramaic, is not infrequently used as a quasi proper name, with 
omission of the article or the determinative ending. There is no 
uniform practice, however, but merely a loose and haphazard alterna- 
tion. For instance, hi Bab. Sanh. NITE>]D is found in 51 b (as 
often elsewhere), n>&D in 93 b; Heb. /TlfD, alone, in other 

passages; IWP V& "the years of the M.," 98 b; mffSn niD 
"the days of the M.," 97 a, 99 a; mpfc/t H^ri, "the woes of 
the M.," Keth. Ill a; IW'D 1 ?^ V?5tT, Sanh. 98 b, Sabb. 118 a; 

both forms, determined and undetermined, sometimes appearing on 
the same page. There is neither evidence nor likelihood of any 
older usage of the sort. So IJalman also concludes. 

We should therefore not expect to find xp""6s employed thus in 
translation Greek. In the Greek-speaking church, however, XPUTTOS 
came very early into use as a proper name, either with or without 
the article and also in the frequent combination 'Ino-oOs 


the less frequent xp""to 'Ii;<roOs. The question arises, whether the 
influence of this tendency to create a proper name may not be 
seen even hi the primitive translated documents. In The Begin- 
nings of Christianity, I, 367, note 2, it is stated that "in Acts ii. 38, 
iii. 6, iv. 10, ix. 34, x. 48, xi. 17, and xv. 26 xptorfo is used as a 
proper name." 8 In no one of the seven passages named is this 
true (see below). They all represent the same usage as that which 
appears in the Four Gospels. 

Xpiffris alone without the article is found hi two passages in the 
Synoptic Gospels, Mk. ix. 41, Lk. xxiii. 2; and three tunes hi John, 
i. 41, iv. 25 and ix. 22. In Jn. i. 41 and iv. 25 the word is merely 
given as the Greek rendering of the Aramaic NITtP'D, trans- 
literated Mfffo-ias, and is therefore obviously not to be regarded as 
a proper name. In i. 41 the original had simply NrW^p JOn3SPN, 

"We have found the Messiah." The translator retained the 
important word, in transliteration, "Messias," and added its 
rendering: *'that is, hi Greek, xp""6s." iv. 25, where 6 \cy6ntvos 
xpurrds is the translator's addition, is another case of the same 
kind. The original Aramaic text had simply NIWO, with the 
determinative ending, and the translator explained that this, which 
he transliterated, is the Aramaic word corresponding to the Greek 
xpiffrfo. Similarly in i. 42 Jesus gives to Simon the surname 
Nfl'3, Kjj<^as, and the translator adds: "which rendered into 

Greek means rock"', and hi verse 38 he had just interpreted the 
term '2H, Rabbi. 4 

In ix. 22 the passage in question reads: l&v ns afobv 6^0X07^0-0 
xptffrdv K.T.X. ., "If any one should acknowledge him as Messiah"; 
that is, the word is here also an appellative, not a proper name; 
cf. Acts ii. 36 and v. 42. 

In Luke xxiii. 2, TOVTOV evpanev . . . \tyovra aMv xpwrbv /3a<riX6i 
flvat, the word is merely an adjective, though it has very often been 
regarded as the title, English R. V. : ''We found this man . . . 
saying that he himself is Christ a king," while in the margin is 

3 In my Composition and Date of Acts (1916) I showed that "I Acts" (i.e., 
1-xv. 35) was composed in Aramaic and by Luke was rendered into Greek. 

4 For the formula 6 \eybnevos, 6 X&yerai, etc., employed in translation Greek 
with the meaning exemplified in some of these passages, see also Mt. xxvii. 33, 
Jn. i. 38, Acts ix. 36. Another use of the formula in translating will receive 
mention presently. 

Xpurri; 321 

given the correct rendering, an anointed king. Wellhausen, Evang. 
Lucae, renders: "der sagt, er selber sei Christus, Konig." But 
Pilate would have been supposed to be interested in the fact of a 
duly constituted Jewish king rather than in a term of Jewish the- 
ology. If the narrator had wished to bring in the Jewish Messiah, 
we should have had the reading rbv \purrbv r6v /SaatXc'a. The reading 
of the original text was Wp'P T|^p, the same traditional form as the 

Hebrew in II Sam. iii. 39. 

In Mk. ix. 41, "Whoever gives you a cup of water lv 6v6nari. 5 
xpwrou iari" it is of course customary to see the name "Christ"; 
the Greek seems to permit no other interpretation, but this is not 
what was intended by either evangelist or translator. 8 

In the original Aramaic, from which our text was rendered, there 
certainly was no proper name (see above). The translator saw the 
word ITtPID without the determinative ending equivalent to the 

definite article, and rendered accordingly, but "an anointed one" 
is out of the question. According to Mk., these words were spoken 
some days after Peter's confession (viii. 29) at Caesarea Philippi, 
and Jesus was already known to his disciples as the Messiah. In 
Mt. (x. 42) the saying appears in an altogether different context, 
and the parallel phrase is simply els 6vona nadijrov, "in the name 
of a disciple," the Aramaic idiom having a slightly different form. 
The Marcan Aramaic here is, I think, another of the many cases 
hi which a single akph does duty both as determinative ending 
and as initial consonant of the following word; this either the result 
of accidental omission of one of the two aleph's, or, as some have 
maintained, according to a custom of scribes. The matter is 
treated, with numerous examples, in Chapter IX of Our Translated 
Gospels. The text hi the present case was : f "D'JHN [WfTpfyTT H Dt^3, 

and the translation must be: "because you are followers of the 

Wellhausen (whose work on the Gospels appears to have been 
hasty throughout, not doing him justice) misunderstood "hi my 
name," in verse 37, and repeated the error, in spite of the context, 
in his note on xiii. 6. In ix. 37 the meaning is: in the name of 

6 Dalman, Worte Jesu, pp. 250 f ., follows the reading '&> ovbuarl /M>U, and regards 
&TI xpwrov t<rrk as "entbehrliche Erklarung." The pov, however, is certainly 
secondary, one of the numerous results of the tendency to make passable Greek 
out of the translation idiom. 


Jesus the M essiah', confessing the divine Son of God. In xiii. 6 the 
phrase means: in the name of the Messiah (the title belonging only 
to the Nazarene); and the pretender by no means confesses his 
predecessor, saying "I am Jesus" (!) but on the contrary, "I am he, 
the Messiah." (As was said at the beginning of this essay, the 
Gospels concern themselves, first and last, with the Jewish Messiah; 
everything else is secondary.) 

The phrase 'Itjeovs & Xeyi/tepos xp^rto, hi which the precise meaning 
of 6 \ey6nwos varies according to the context, has often been mis- 
understood. In Mt. i. 16 NITi?>D Nlj^D H W simply refers to 

the usual collocation of name and title, NITtPD JW, "Jesus the 

Messiah," familiar from the first among all those who believed 
Jesus to be the One foretold in the scriptures. The "called" 
in Mt. i. 16 means "recognized as," "known to be," as in the 
use of the same verb in Hebrew; see Is. xlvii. 1, 5, xlviii. 8, and 
many other examples. On the rendering of NfTfiPD JW by the 

Greek 'Ivjaovs xpr6s, without the definite article, see below. 

On the other hand, in Mt. xxvii. 17, 22 'lyffovs 6 \ey6nevos xpwrfa 
(spoken by Pilate) has a different meaning, namely "Jesus, the 
reputed Messiah." Dalman, Worte, p. 248, denies this, and appeals 
to the "iibliche Bedeutung" of 6 \cy6nevos. There is no one "usual 
meaning" of the phrase, however, for it has several different mean- 
ings, according to the connection in which it stands. Two of these 
have already received mention, a third is now before us. In Mk. 
xv. 12, parallel to Mt. xxvii. 22, the words of Pilate are: rl <&v fl&ere 
TToiiJtrw 8v Xyere r6v j3a<nX^a TUV 'lovSaiw. "What then will you have 
me do with him whom you call the king of the Jews?" This cer- 
tainly gives the meaning of the rkv ^yb^vov in Mt. It is the 
same use of Xyw which we see in Mt. xvi. 15, riva pe Xyer clvai; 
Mk. x. 18, xii. 37, Jn. v. 18, xv. 15, Rev. ii. 20, "she who asserts 
herself (fi Xyowa tavTyv) to be a prophetess," etc. So many com- 
mentators interpret the passage in Mt. xxvii. 

Dalman sees here a reference to the 'IT/OWS xp"T6s, "Jesus Christ" 
of the Greek-speaking Christian church, and declares it incredible 
that the man of Nazareth should ever have been called "Jesus the 
Messiah" during his earthly life. "His disciples" (he says, p. 249, 
appealing to Mt. xvi. 20, Mk. viii 30, Lk. ix. 21) "were not per- 
mitted to give him this title, and others would hardly have done 
so." But the passages appealed to, if they prove anything, prove 


the contrary of what Dalman affirms. In all three Gospels it is 
clearly represented that Jesus accepted and approved Peter's desig- 
nation of him as 6 xptorfo; what the disciples are forbidden to do, 
in Mt. xvi. 20 and the parallels, is to publish the fact. As for other 
men, of course all those who believed him to be the Expected One 
called him from the first, "Jesus the Messiah." It was precisely 
for this reason that he was ultimately arrested and put on trial 
before the Jewish authorities. 

It remains to consider the 'Ljows xpwr6s of the Gospels and I 
Acts, that is, in the translation Greek of the earliest Christian 
documents. This is in all cases the rendering of the Aramaic 
NITfiPO yW, "Jesus the Messiah," the Aramaic word being al- 
ways a title, not a proper name. In a word-for-word rendering 
from Aramaic into Greek it is a well known fact that where in the 
original a proper name is either immediately preceded or followed 
by the title, the Greek translation very frequently omits the defi- 
nite article, the position of the Aramaic determinative element 
rendering the omission natural. In translations from Hebrew, 
where the article precedes the noun, such cases are only occasional. 
Even in the brief specimens of rendering from Aramaic contained 
in our Greek Bible, namely in the few chapters in Daniel and 
Ezra, many examples are to be found; and there is some evidence 
that they were still more numerous in the original renderings un- 
corrected by Greek scribes. 

Thus, for N3^D Kn'13 we find Kfipos jSao-iXefo, Ezr. v. 13, vi. 3, 

and jScwiXefc KOpos, Ezr. v. 17, 1 Esdr. vi. 16, 23. For tf}?D *#0#, 
Sa/io-ai ypawaTtbs Ezr. iv. 17, 23; and for nr? ^??1J, Zopo/3a/3& 
&rapxos, 1 Esdr. vi. 28. Likewise Na(iovxo8ovo<rdp /JcwrtXefa Dan. iii. 
1, 5; iv. 34c (LXX) ; jSeuuXefo Aapeios, 1 Esdr. iii. 1; vi. 7, 33; vii. 5; 
ApTeuraafld |8a<riXeiis, Ezr. iv. 8, 11, 23; vii. 21; /SacnXetis Apra^p^s, 
1 Esdr. ii. 16, viii. 9. Observe also that these renderings are not 
all from the same hand, nor from the same period. 

'Irjffofa xpwr6s is, then, in its origin, simply a conventional Greek 
translation of the Aramaic NIWO W, "Jesus the Messiah." 

This is the correct English rendering in Mt. i. 1 (where it has been 
customary to see the proper name "Christ"), also in i. 18; xvi. 21, 
Mk. i. 1, Jn. i. 17; xvii. 3, Acts iii. 6; ix. 34; x. 48, xi. 17 etc. In 
this way the phrase was intended by the translators and under- 
stood by the earliest readers of these documents in their Greek form. 


The formula which had thus become firmly fixed in the usage 
of the Jewish-Christian church was taken over by the Gentile 
Christians, with the inevitable result that xpt0r6s came at once to 
be used as a proper name, with or without the 'Irjo-oBs. In the 
Four Gospels and I Acts, however, there is still no trace of such 
use. In these writings xpt<rr6s, as applied to Jesus, is always either 
the descriptive adjective or the title, never the proper name. 




Oxford and Princeton 

Among the oldest Latin manuscripts of the Bible the Codex 
Cavensis holds a place of its own. It is by common consent one 
of the two most important representatives of the peculiar type of 
text which was current hi Spam for many centuries. The Spanish 
manuscript closest to the Cavensis is the Toletanus*; editors usually 
cite the variant readings of both. 1 Of the two the Cavensis is by 
far the more accurate, as it is also the more ancient. It also hap- 
pens to be a superb specimen of calligraphy, perhaps the finest 
manuscript ever penned by a Spanish scribe. He left us his name 
DANILA SCRIPTOR in beautiful capitalis rustica, entered after 
the colophon to the Lamentations of Jeremiah on fol. 166 V . It is a 
Spanish name. But Danila does not tell us where he wrote or when. 

The present note is not concerned with the text of the Cavensis 
but with its palaeography, the main object being to call attention to 
a scrap of fresh evidence which goes to show that the Codex must 
have been hi South Italy ever since the twelfth century. At the 
same tune it may be useful to state briefly what is knowable regard- 
ing its date and origin and to give as detailed a description of the 
manuscript as possible on the lines followed hi Codices Latini Anti- 
quiores," in the hope that the hard and dry facts may some day 
prove helpful hi discovering the precise locality which produced so 
remarkable a book. 

The Codex Cavensis gets its name from its present home near 
La Cava in the province of Salerno. The Benedictine Abbey situ- 

* On the much debated question of its date see now Augustfn Millares Carlo, 
Contribncidn al "Corpus" de Codices Visigdticos, pp. 99-130 (Madrid, 1931). The 
arguments in favor of the 10th century seem thoroughly convincing. 

1 Cf . Wordsworth's and White's preface and epilogue to their edition of the 
N. T.: Novum Testamentum Domini nostri lesu Christi etc. Pars prior, pp. xi, 
xiiif. and 717ff. (Oxford 1889-1898). 

2 Part I, The Vatican City (Oxford 1934); Part II, Great Britain and Ireland 
(Oxford 1935). Parts III and IV are devoted to Italy. 


326 QUAN 

ated at Corpo di Cava near tl 
Holy Trinity was only founds 
the early monastic houses. I 
charters, is not without impc 
charters and manuscripts th 
script of South Italy which i 
tan', but which formerly bore 
a term still used by palaeo 
designation 'Lombardic' has 
It has manifestly played its p 
the Cavensis. 

For all its importance, both 
Cavensis remained practically 
decades of the last century. 
Mabillon, the father of Lath- 
November 1685 he was show 
Cavensis apparently was not a 
hardly have failed to have c 
Italicum'. 4 One wonders whe 
some reason for keeping quiel 
the manuscript not yet mign 
It had certainly left Spam cei 
as will be shown presently, it h 
at latest by the beginning of th 
that that center was the abbe 

Although the Cavensis is a 
script, abbreviation, orthogra] 
it as such, and even the begin 
promptly recognize its nations 
scholars who first dealt with 
Angelo Mai, 6 never suspected 
vestre 7 ), D'Aragona 8 and Z 

3 Cf . The Beneventan Script, p. 28, 

4 Museum Italicum, Tom. I, p. 11? 
6 Lettre de L'atibe Rozan sur des liv, 

de la Cava (Naples 1822) ; Italian tra 

6 Scriptorum Veterum etc., Ill, i 
Romanum, IX, p. xxiii (Rome 1843 
(Rome 1852). 

7 PaUographie Universelle, III, pi 

8 Codex Diplomaticus Cavensis, Vo 

9 In Sitzungsberichte der Bayerisch 


iva near the top of the hill and dedicated to the 
nly founded in 1011. It is therefore not one of 
houses. Its library, though particularly rich in 
hout important ancient manuscripts. Of both 
scripts the oldest are written in the peculiar 
[y which modern palaeographers call 'Beneven- 
nerly bore the unfortunate name 'Lombardic' 
by palaeographical die-hards. The unhistoric 
rdic' has been responsible for much confusion.* 
ayed its part in obscuring the true character of 

ance, both textually and palaeographically, the 

practically unknown to scholars until the early 

century. When the great Benedictine, Jean 

ir of Lathi palaeography, visited the abbey hi 

was shown a number of manuscripts, but the 

- was not among them. Had he seen it, he could 

to have devoted some space to it hi his 'Iter 

mders whether the monks of Holy Trinity had 

jping quiet about their ancient Bible. Or had 

yet migrated to that part of Southern Italy? 

b Spam centuries before Mabillon's tune, since, 

sently, it had reached some South Italian center 

ining of the twelfth century. And it is arguable 

3 the abbey near La Cava. 

ensis is a typically Spanish manuscript whose 

orthography, and ornamentation all proclaim 

the beginner in palaeography would nowadays 

ts nationality, it is nevertheless a fact that the 

ealt with our manuscript, like De Rozan 8 and 

suspected its origin, and Champollion (in Sil- 

i 8 and Ziegler 9 describe it as 'Lombardic'. 

Script, p. 28, n. 1 (Oxford 1914). 
om. I, p. 118 (Paris 1687). 

n sur des livres et des manuscrits precieux de la biblioth&que 
; Italian translation by Dom G. Morcaldi. 
etc., Ill, pars 2, pp. 165f. (Rome 1828); Spicilegium 
(Rome 1843); Nova Patrum Bibliotheca, I, pars 2, p. 7 

selle, III, pi. CXLI-106 (Paris 1839-41). 
Cavensis, Vol. I, Appendix (Naples 1873). 
er Bayerisch. Akademie (1876), pp. 607-660. 


.^M;^^^^^^ ' v ;:: ^ : 'i: : ^^^^mm 


~S-'-< J '^^K* ,--' V^-fV/-? "^'''":".-'--';";;. 11 -;-. 1 ",V'- - ,' '<' - J ' : '- ,-'-'" "--" ' "' '*- '."" 
. ' '''. W'i. "-'*- -^v/V' '** '.-''/''.1^1'Oi^"-*" '''"*.'".'' '^1-ii '" I: -.I' 1 '-."' "W -^ ; A "''" 

> t > I 1 f >>'>>>>* ^ > 






( ^\^ 





Codex Cavensis, fol. 80v. Biblia Sacra. Paralip. Lib. I, Prolog, et cap. 1. 

r r. 

\J.~-'\\'..--^ : ^WWfG3^&&WW3 

et cap. 1. 

-,. P/eA&;tttfioi>(!*tf*!f* 
/Vv ^/ ' y '-''/ ' ?%* 
V tpi^fj/MautlfUJtfMti 

" I .* ' / *', *,*:-*.-. 

Codex Cavensis, fol. 80v. Biblia Sacra. Paralip. Lib. I, Prolog, et cap. 1 . 

.:/ . . - -;;. :'i'VBW*f %/Vi*i-V/K 


IT* "' ? ^&im$83mwM 


:& . ^J^.v*Mfe^?Afe^4 

y^ iJ^Jifi SiJl/fe^ii'.4v>Alj 

I I f f 

I Rto(Jb4kliuM> 

p. 1. 


This error in classification found a place, for a short tune, even in a 
well-known text book on palaeography, as anyone may see who 
examines the first edition of Wattenbach's Ankitung. 10 It was not 
until the great Florentine palaeographer Cesare Paoli attacked the 
mistaken ascription that the error was banished for good and all. 
His article published hi 1879" convinced Wattenbach completely, 
and subsequent editions of the Ankitung correctly describe the 
Cava Bible as Spanish, as do all later writers who deal with its 
text, 12 and all palaeographers by profession. 18 

While palaeography has progressed far enough to be able to dis- 
tinguish a Visigothic manuscript from a so-called 'Lombardic', it is 
still groping in the dark when it comes to fixing the precise home of a 
Visigothic manuscript. Some day perhaps, as a result of careful 
and exhaustive study, we may be in a position to say of a manuscript 
that it hails from Toledo rather than Seville, from Leon rather than 
Barcelona. But we are not there yet. And the origin of the 
manuscript which has been described as "by far the finest product 
of Spanish penmanship and book decoration" eludes us still. What 
we are certain of, however, is that this manuscript could have 
originated only in a center of great palaeographic traditions. There 
is ground for believing that this great center was probably hi the 
North rather than in the South, since hi the North more frequent 
opportunity existed for coining hi contact with the masterpieces of 
Caroline calligraphy. For according to some art critics traces of 
French influence are discernible in the ornamentation of the Caveri*- 
sis; 14 and the palaeographer is tempted to account for the systematic 
use by the scribe of the Cavensis of various ancient types (capitalis 
rustica, uncial, half-uncial and even bd-uncial, all seen in the 

10 Anleitung zur lateinischen Palaeographie, p. 8 (Leipzig 1869). 

11 In Archivio Storico Italiano, Serie 4, Vol. Ill (1879), p. 256. 

12 See P. Corssen, Epistula ad Galatas, pp. 12-14 (Berlin 1885) ; G. Schepps in 
Corpus Scriptorum Eccles, Lot. XVIII (1889), pp. xxxff.; S. Berger, Histoire de la 
Vulgate, pp. 14f. (Paris 1893); Wordsworth and White cited in note 1; A. Amelli, 
De libri Baruch vetustissima Latina versione etc., pp. 6ff. (Monte Cassino 1902). 
F. Stabile in Rivista di Filologia, XXXIX (1911), pp. 361-384; De Bruyne in 
Revue Benedictine, XXXI (1914-19), pp. 373-401; H. Quentin, Memoire sur I'e- 
tablissement du texte de la Vulgate, pp. 299, 310ff. (Rome and Paris 1922). 

13 Their works are cited in the bibliographical paragraph following the descrip- 
tion of the manuscript and in notes 11, 17 and 18. 

14 Marquis De Lozoya, Historia de I'arte Hispdnico, p. 322 and fig. 397 (Bar- 
celona 1931-4). 

328 QUANT 

accompanying plates) by hi* 
Biblical manuscripts of the sch 
one encounters the same deligl 
types of script. 16 While the 
quadrata, not found hi the ( 
on the other hand, employs bd 
of Tours. I may say in passi 
that bd-uncial was considerec 
Bezae and the Codex Clarom 
type), its presence in the Cavei 
some light on what I call the 1 
our manuscript is confined to tl 
century uncial manuscript of 
the bd-uncial is only used for t 
is subordinate and ancillary in 
are sloping in both (see plat 
curious feature: letter a is aim 
clue as to the place of origin m 
of the Cavensis. In any case 
as to deserve a special study, 
be gone over with a fine-tooth c 
before it will be possible to drav 
peculiarities as regards locality. 
And now a word on the date 
shall never know, but there car 
hi the ninth century, probably : 
judgment is based mainly on pi 
If the broad lines of the develop] 
hi my Studio, Palaeographica 17 ai 
by C. U. Clark in his Collectanec 
Cavensis is more ancient than c 
tenth century. On the other hi 
strokes and frequent ligatures i 

16 See the facsimiles in Delisle's M & 
in Mtmoires de VAcadtmie, XXXII, 1 1 
offered in E. K. Rand's Studies in the i 
Mass. 1929 and 1934). 

16 Cf. Steffens, Lateinische Paiaeogn 

17 Pp. 80f. (Munich 1910), publishe< 

18 Pp. 106f. (Paris 1920), publishec 
Arts and Sciences, Vol. 24. 


s) by his acquaintance with the exquisite 

of the school of St. Martin's at Tours, hi which 

ame delight hi the display of nearly all ancient' 

/Me the Tours scribes make use of capitalis 

hi the Cavensis, the scribe of the Cavensis 

nploys bd-uncial, not found hi the manuscripts 

y in passing that if one needed further proof 

considered a distinct type (the entire Codex 

ix Claromontanus of the Epistles are hi this 

the Cavensis would supply it. It also throws 

call the hierarchy of scripts: the bd-uncial hi 

ifined to the Capitulationes, just as in the fifth 

iscript of Jerome's Chronicle hi the Bodleian 

used for the marginal summaries. 18 The type 

ncillary hi both manuscripts, and the letters 

(see plate 1). In the Cavensis there is one 

ir a is almost capitalis rustica. Perhaps some 

>f origin may be contained hi the orthography 

any case its misspellings are so extraordinary 

al study. But many manuscripts will have to 

ine-tooth comb and exhaustive data collected 

)le to draw any conclusions from orthographic 

s locality. 

the date of the Cavensis. Its precise age we 
there can be little doubt that it was written 
probably hi the middle or even past it. This 
inly on palaeographic grounds, on the script, 
e development of Visigothic script as sketched 
aphica 17 are valid guides they were accepted 
Collectanea Hispanica 1 * (pp. 106-7) then the 
jnt than our extant dated manuscripts of the 
le other hand, if low broad letters with coarse 
ligatures are characteristic of the eighth and 

Delisle's M6moire sur I'tcole calligraphique de Tours etc. 

XXXII, 1 (Paris 1885) and especially the rich material 

udies in the Script of Tours, vols. I and II (Cambridge, 

the Paiaeographie, 2 pi. 17 (Trier 1909). 

)), published in Sitzungsber. der Bayer. Akademie. 

)), published in the Transactions of the Conn. Acad. of 

It ,-14''u"^-' ' -*; *!(-''- -"ViP . ' - % . ',,' 




.. .: .-: 3fjm^^^AWy<%?&& f^e-.-;; ; 
. : .. fa^i^wfMnf&nf lhw. 


"-: vfjpli !iipE- <; -;' . : ' : W 


' ..'l''-Wi3K^ti&^&^ 

:': 4tMlK<^WlW^^;-vT'r :'^:^-'"-^ 

'-'^^&mii^M^n'^m '- ^> ' 

Wv ! IS ! W? p K^^ 

1 I 1 


Codex Cavensis, fol. 100. Biblia Sacra. lob, cap. XXXIX, v. 29. 

m^;r;-v.v." -v^. ., :.v ; ; : .v ^?t/fl 

iy^Jliirticrr-/ ' '''.', ''' ' ..'" ':':':"'$. 

'<:.^y-';v- 'W'^P:*^ ^?K >'S5, ;:; ! ,?v.siiw!W?re 


:;:,->.'."' '-. :,.;":.";.';, .'.-.ItV Ix.'SSJ^^i 

!;'.- i.. .-. -. >'. . .?:. . '.; V. :vV!;^5v.: <.l 


^^ftf''^^'" .' 


WiiVjfe!?:.'.''*!'!!: 1 ;.-. .' : : . 

Kffijteifc'^..- 1 .-'; 1 : ::.. ' 

IV t3fVNiJ!*P^Arati|^v4^WV W 1 ^' 

v ^i^PSti^P^^^ W ^ v ^''^ ^"- 

, ; ;^l^4?ifiNiWa|pM :":;'- , ' ." v' 

' ' '' I .'^.'& ; &%M'&j$w!w?^- : ' : ^"-"'' ( \. '"'.' v' ' ' ' ''' 

\ M*iaiWi^t1uii<riKf K^' v '" " " ' ', 
nuneuu in u . ^ , , 

* t 

, hewntu4uuA;umoMfctfui*U> Jupl^eiu^ 
'- " ' ' ' 

J , 








l| I I 







ifrli- \tf 


ll ' I r II I 






A udi 



V tfOCtMl- 



v; -n/te 
t., ; -$$ 




..'. .jj ,. fuoeniontr> 

I f 





A . 


early ninth century, then the Cavensis ha 
stage. The date thus derived from a sti 
firmed by internal evidence furnished by 
entries which seem to refer to the theolog 
on the question of predestination, in comu 
councils were held in 848, 849 and 855. 
with the verdict suggested by the script. 

The later history of the Cavensis, like ii 
in mystery. We do not know when it lef 

And this brings me to what I consider th< 
is the only justification for the present n 
Cavensis at least three marginal notes re 
entered by a reader whose natural script m 
vinced, Beneventan, i.e., South Italian. ( 
Plate 2), opposite the word uerbi, in lo 
Beneventan hand of the first half of the 
belli. In the upper half of fol. 254 V (repro 
the prologue to the Epistle to the Roma 
entered hi the margin, with a sign showing 
after the sentence gentes hetiam he contran 
same column, nine lines below, the same har 
the words simulacra intuebamini which were 
in nube uel igni conspicere solebatis. Both t 
by the group of two dots over a comma, wl 
ventan full stop. This same full stop, as 
mounted by an oblique line for lesser pau 
feature is found passim in this prologue 
is unmistakably Beneventan, the words 
intuebamini have elements which are foreij 
minuscule, for neither the d nor the t nor tl 
form. And yet I think it can justly be clai 
permitted himself the non-Beneventan for 
trained in the Beneventan school; the pen 1 
to Beneventan calligraphy. What is more 
dicentes also wrote intuebamini. Now, wl: 
is non-Beneventan, the t in the latter is pi 
we have here, then, is doubtless a case wh 
ency of the tune to graft Caroline forms 


Javensis has manifestly passed that 
from a study of the script is con- 
rnished by a few curious marginal 
he theological disputes then raging 
n, in connection with which church 
and 855. These dates fit in well 
te script. 

nsis, like its origin, seems shrouded 
when it left Spain, nor under what 

jonsider the scrap of evidence which 
i present note. There exist in the 
al notes recording variant readings 
al script must have been, I am con- 
Italian. On fol. 100 (seen in our 
erbi, in lob XL, 27, a manifestly 
lalf of the twelfth century wrote: 
254 V (reproduced in our Plate 3) in 
the Romans, the word dicentes is 
jn showing that it is to be inserted 
he contrario respondebant. In the 
e same hand inserted in the margin 
which were omitted after the words 
s. Both these entries are followed 
comma, which is the normal Bene- 
ill stop, as well as the point sur- 
lesser pauses also a Beneventan 
3 prologue. While the word belli 
he words dicentes and simulacra 

are foreign to the South Italian 
the t nor the a has the Beneventan 
stly be claimed that the scribe who 
ventan forms of these letters was 
; the pen he used was one adapted 
at is more the hand which wrote 

Now, while the t in the former 
latter is pure Beneventan. What 
a case which illustrates the tend- 
line forms upon the Beneventan 


calligraphy. And it is precise!? 
Cava that an excellent parallel is 
manuscript of Gregory's Morali 
written partly in Beneventan ai 
On fol. 34 both scripts are seen 
non-Beneventan. What is curiov 
which writes the non-Benevent 
Beneventan script and uses a p 
Beneventan punctuation is usec 
which entered the readings on fo 
mind, considerable resemblance t< 
Cava Gregory MS. 7. That the 
were made by a South Italian wil 
with the Beneventan style of wri 
pose that they were made hi the 
still preserved? 

If the above account of the vs 
with the facts of the case, then th 
Amelli as to how the Codex came 
plausible. 19 He suggests that the 
belonged to the Benedictine Mai 
anti-Pope Gregory VIII, who hj 
archbishop of Braga and a welcon 
hi the first decades of the twelfth 
conjecture; yet a hypothesis whic! 
manuscript with an Iberian Ben< 
relations with the Benedictine hou 
preserved has something at least i 

LA CAVA, Archivio della Ba( 

Foil. 303; 320 X 268mm. < 265-275 X 
54-56 lines (the lists of names on fol. 80 V 
side, each leaf singly before folding. Do 
Prickings in the outer margin guided : 
signed by a Roman numeral often followi 
artfully decorated and coloured border. '. 
headings mostly in elongated capitals in a 
or in hollow capitals filled with colours, 

19 See Dom Mattei-Cerasoli, Codices C 


is precisely among the manuscripts of La 
i parallel is found: the early twelfth century 
f's Moralia, which bears the number 7, is 
eventan and partly in ordinary minuscule. 
s are seen, the Beneventan continuing the 
at is curious and interesting is that the hand 
i-Beneventan is manifestly accustomed to 
I uses a pen adapted for that script. The 
an is used in both parts. Now the hand 
ings on fol. 254 V of the Cavensis has, to my 
mblance to the non-Beneventan hand of the 
That the variant readings just mentioned 
Italian will be admitted by everyone familiar 
byle of writing. Is it not reasonable to sup- 
ade hi the very abbey where the Cavensis is 

b of the variant readings is not incongruous 
se, then the surmise made by the late Abbot 
)dex came to Italy seems attractive and even 
:s that the precious and beautiful Bible once 
Lictine Mauritius Bordinho, later known as 
[I, who had been Bishop of Coimbra and 
d a welcome visitor at the abbey in La Cava 
he twelfth century. This is no more than a 
;hesis which connects this important Spanish 
icrian Benedictine of high station who had 
iictine house in which the manuscript is now 
g at least in its favor. 

vio della Badia della SS"" Trinita", MS. I. 


265-275 X 215mm. > normally in three columns of 
3s on fol. 80 V ff. are in six columns). Ruling on hair- 
olding. Double bounding lines enclose each column, 
gin guided ruling. Gatherings normally of eights, 

often followed by QT (quaternio) and enclosed in an 
ed border. Hair-side outside quires. Colophons and 

capitals in alternating red and black or red and blue, 
nth colours, the whole usually enclosed in coloured 

li, Codices Cavenses, Pars I, p. 10 (Cava 1935). 

ttjm&p^pfiri' '- ^EPKRH 

V>. i , < * 1> ' ' '' ** V 'S '^ . '^*v "1$$ 

^y^flL,^ -"* ^ tfic v -V '"?< 

'mbff.'euJleoM'A'r'maMcIo'!' MOJ". . . . 

Codex Cavensis, fol. 254v. Biblia Sacra. Epist. ad Rom., Prolog, et cap. 1. 

ito^MtAM+ibktaaJtitjti ;;, ., ,^^m 

if!* u&l ^Mi*fet^'; ';, /tfv^ 

^^" ? TT^T!v:^*r""** . ** '' 't v -' '' * i ijB rft 

iL-^1:. '.iiJl'J:^.':;: V_V i i'-^_ * v; ".'-*"! Zi'''5^.-ir- 1 l3SSfiB'l : - 


< \. '':' ' 1. I 

n.VifrieMdc<'mpf- - - -.1 - ^ k 

; ''' ":'''-' '"" ' ' 

'atopoftoluf' -,-] '':-^: ,- :C : .': f 

: ' tc>\ L ] i ? 

.~, . .. 

1 I 5 l !, ! I "" 
im.<*flwifiJ.i.fc.viuUf; -. ' -.'ILMMM' 

Codex Cavensis, fol. 254v. Biblia Sacra. Epist. ad Rom., Prolog, ct cap. I. 

UOCXTU* '.. . -'"'iM 

- .< >m 

ftf a i>of-n) 

U(' e 

\ " 

mm ti> 

.itMTCiN AfW" itrt-f. 



I I! 

wof.fcnj^owbKTKffmrihtif |M6<.d!iU(;.h 

Ul I I 




trull fmu viiTtV^Luia'.i 




. ct cap. 1. 


ornamental frames of graceful lines; red is used for tl 
Punctuation: the low or medial point marks the varioi 
later additions; the interrogation point is not used; I< 
metrical parts of the Bible are written per cola et commi 
from Nomina Sacra) include: autm = autem; b with tl 
bow sweeping boldly below the line = bis (fol. 18 etc.) 1 
Ihrs 1m = lerusalem; SrE = Israel; krimi =Jcarissimi; : 
misericordiae; nmn, nmne = nomen, -ine; nn = non; : 
omnia; p and p = per; ppEn = populum; q = que; qnS 
bar transected vertically = turn; usi = uestri; the hori 
is surmounted by a dot except when placed over q (que 
shafts of h or 1. Omitted m at word or line-end is mai 
with a dot above. Spelling: the most conspicuous feat 
of h (hadam, ha, homnia, het). Ornamental pages decoi 
are seen on foil. I v and 143; on some pages containing pr< 
space is cruciform and various colours are used in the 
220, 220 V , 224 V , 225); horse-shoe formed arches encloe 
221-222 V ); initials show the rope pattern or the leaf < 
colours used are red, pink, blue, green, yellow; gold is als 
Parchment good; fol. 221 is stained blue, foil. 194, 224 a 
Ink grey or greyish brown; on the ornamental pages red 
and white inks are used for the text. Script of. the Bibli 
very regular Visigothic minuscule with a general incl 
uncial d is more common than minuscule; I-longa is us 
for the intervocalic sound; it is occasionally forked at 
not to be confused with letter Y; there are frequent ligai 
same type of script, exceptionally tiny, is used for ex 
186 V f . Uncial is used for prefaces and for the opening si 
bd-uncial is used often for capitula (foil. 57 V , 58, 64, 64 
for the argumenta of the Pauline Epistles (foil. 255 V etc.) 
occur one is in uncial, the other in half-uncial (foil. 181^ 
is used for some opening verses and for the scribe's sign 
TOR, on fol. 166 V . Some marginalia are in sloping uncii 
minuscule. Beneventan variant readings saec. XII in. 
(see facs.). Here 1 and there are Arabic notes (foil. 32, 
(fol. 98). The whole MS. is in excellent condition. 

Catalogues and facsimiles: Dom B. Gaetani D'Ara 
branacei della biblioteca della SS, Trinita di Cava publishe* 
Codex Diplomatics Cavensis; two plates (Naples 1873). 
Codices Cavenses Pars I, pp. Iff. (Cava 1935); Silvestre 
n. 7); the plate is composite; C. U. Clark, Coll. Hisp. ( 
13-14 (reduced) ; Dom H. Quentin, Mimoire etc. (see abi 
De Lozoya, Hist, de I'arte Hisp. (cited above n. 14) fig. 3' 
For other works, see notes 11, 12, 17, 18, and L. 
(Munich 1907); Z. Garcfa Villada, Pakografia Espafit 
A. Millares Carlo, Tratado de Pakografia Espanola (Ma< 


s used for the first words of chapters. 
ks the various pauses; other points are 

not used; lob, the Psalms, and other 
ola et commata. Abbreviations (apart 
em; b with the prolonged curve of the 
[fol. 18 etc.) b", I s , m 8 = bus, ius, mus; 
= karissimi; mm = meum; msrcdae = 

nn = non; nsam = nostram; oma = 
[ M que; qnm = quoniam; t with cross- 
stri; the horizontal abbreviation stroke 
I over q (que), or when transecting the 
le-end is marked by a flourish, usually 
spicuous feature is the perverse misuse 
il pages decorated with coloured crosses 
sontaining prefatory matter the written 
used in the texf; (foil. 143*, 194, 194*, 
arches enclose the canon tables (foil, 
or the leaf or bird or fish motif; the 
iw; gold is also used (foil. I v , 143, 143 V ) 
>11. 194, 224 and 253 are stained purple. 
ital pages red, pink, blue, green, yellow 
t of. the Biblical text is a finely penned, 

general inclination towards the left; 

I-longa is used initially and medially 
ly forked at the top (Yn, aYt) and is 
frequent h'gatures: ern, rtem, etc.; the 
i used for exegetic marginalia on foil. 
;he opening sentences of books; sloping 

v , 58, 64, 64* etc.); half-uncial is used 
oil. 255* etc.) and where two prologues 
iial (foil. 181* and 239); Rustic capital 

scribe's signature: DANILA SCRIP- 

sloping uncial (fol. 14*) or in ordinary 
saec. XII in. occur on foil. 100, 254* 
tes (foil. 32, 33), once a Hebrew note 

letani D'Aragona, / manoscritti mem- 
lava published as Appendix to Vol. I of 
aples 1873). D. Leo Mattei-Cerasoli, 
:5); Silvestre, (Pal. Univ. cited above 
Coll. Hisp. (cited above n. 18) plates 
? etc. (see above n. 12) fig. 28 (fol. 24); 
s n. 14) fig. 397. 

18, and L. Traube, Nomina Sacra 
rafia Espanola (Madrid 1923), and 
ipanola (Madrid 1932). 


Episcopal Theological School 

Codex Zacynthius (H, 040, A 1 ), which is preserved in the library 
of the British and Foreign Bible Society in London (No. 24), is 
one of the oldest and most valuable palimpsests of the New Testa- 
ment. It contains eighty-six vellum leaves and three half-leaves. 
The former are now about 28 cm. hi height and about 18 cm. hi 
width, but originally they probably measured about 35.5 cm. by 
about 28 cm. The lower writing consists of portions of the Gospel 
according to St. Luke. The text is written in a single column, and 
the ink is brown. The present writer has counted as few as two 
and as many as twenty-one lines on a page. The text is Alex- 
andrian. 1 

The gospel text is surrounded on three sides by a catena, and 
the arrangement of the biblical text and the commentary makes it 
clear that the two are contemporary. The following writers are 
quoted in the catena : Origen, Eusebius of Caesarea, Titus of Bostra, 
Basil, Chrysostom, Isidore of Pelusium, Cyril of Alexandria, Severus 
of Antioch, and Victor of Antioch. Two of these exegetical authori- 
ties, viz. Severus and Victor, flourished in the sixth century; whereas 
all the others mentioned are earlier in date. This fact is not with- 
out significance, as we shall see presently. So far as is known, 
Codex Zacynthius is the earliest New Testament manuscript that 
contains a commentary. 

The upper writing is a gospel lectionary of the thirteenth century 
(1 229 Gregory). Besides the eighty-six leaves containing por- 
tions of the Third Gospel the lectionary occupies ninety other 
leaves, which are also vellum. A biblical codex was very rarely 
taken apart and the text erased in order to provide material for 
another biblical manuscript. Fresh vellum was nearly always used. 

1 See W. H. P. Hatch, The Principal Uncial Manuscripts of the New Testament 
(Chicago, 1937). 



Codex Zacynthius is commonly ascribed to the eighth century. 2 
This was the conclusion of Dr. Tregelles, who examined the palimp- 
sest with the greatest care and published an entirely satisfactory 
edition of it. 8 Others have accepted this dating without ques- 
tioning the grounds on which it rests, and thus it has become the 
established view. Dr. Tregelles, however, was by no means sure 
that the date which he assigned to the manuscript was right. He 
himself says: "I only suggest the reasons which make it difficult 
for me to consider the eighth century (which I at first supposed) 
to be a settled point, though the more probable date." 4 And again: 
"I hope that whenever any competent scholar shall reconsider the 
whole subject of Greek Palaeography, this MS. will receive a due 
share of attention." 5 Therefore in reconsidering the date of Codex 
Zacynthius we are casting no aspersions upon the learning or judg- 
ment of the eminent scholar who first studied and made known 
this invaluable treasure. On the contrary in so doing we are only 
carrying out his expressed wish. 

Dr. Tregelles felt obliged to ascribe the manuscript to the eighth 
century on account of the laterally compressed and elongated form 
of the letters eeoc, which he thought to be characteristic of that 
century. He says: "The Text is in round full well-formed Uncial 
letters, such as I should have had no difficulty in ascribing to the 
sixth century, were it not that the Catena of the same age has the 
round letters (eeoc) so cramped as to appear to belong to the eighth 
century." 6 Again he remarks: "On the one hand, the confined 
letters of the Catena suggest the eighth century; while those of the 
Text are such as we have been accustomed to ascribe to the sixth, 
and the general absence of accents and breathings, even from the 
Catena, seems hardly compatible with the later date." 7 

In regard to the script of the commentary two things must be 
said. First, a catena accompanying a biblical text and the text 
itself are often written in different hands, even when they are both 

2 Cf. F. H. A. Scrivener, A Plain Introduction to the Criticism of the New Testa- 
ment (London, 1894), I, p. 161; and C. R. Gregory, Textkritik des Neuen Testa- 
ments (Leipzig, 1900-1909), I, p. 90. 

3 See S. P. Tregelles, Codex Zacynthius (London, 1861). 

4 Cf . S. P. Tregelles, op. cit., p. xviii. 
6 Cf. S. P. Tregelles, op. cit., p. xvii. 

6 Cf. S. P. Tregelles, op. cit., p. ii. 

7 Cf. S. P. Tregelles, op. cit., p. xvii. 


the work of the same scribe. A book hand is used for the text, 
whereas the commentary is written in a less elegant and more 
ordinary script. The former is calligraphic; the latter is more like 
the hand employed for everyday purposes. It seemed fitting that 
the sacred text should appear in a more ancient and less common 
dress, and it was no small convenience to the reader to have the 
biblical text clearly distinguished from the catena by being in a 
different style of writing. 

Codex K of the Catholic and Pauline Epistles and Codex X of the 
Gospels, one of the ninth century and the other of the tenth, 
illustrate the above-mentioned usage. Each of these manuscripts 
has the biblical text in uncial letters and the commentary hi a 
minuscule hand. 8 The same custom is sometimes observed also 
in minuscule codices. In these the catena is distinguished from the 
sacred text by being written in smaller minuscule letters. 9 Unfor- 
tunately, with the exception of Codex Zacynthius, there is no New 
Testament manuscript extant which has both the biblical text and 
the commentary in uncial script. As was said above, this is the 
oldest New Testament codex containing a catena; and when it was 
copied, the minuscule style of writing was not employed for books. 
The commentary was naturally written in a different kind of 
uncial script. 

The second point to be noted in connection with the handwriting 
found in the catena is that the crucial letters eeoc in equally com- 
pressed and elongated form are used in a vellum manuscript which 
dates from the middle of the seventh century. 10 Therefore it is 
not necessary, as Dr. Tregelles does, to descend to the eighth 
century in order to account for the form of these four letters. 
Moreover, eeoc in this shape occur in papyri written as early as the 
third century before Christ 11 and in cursive writing of pre- and post- 

8 See W. H. P. Hatch, op. cit. 

9 For examples see W. H. P. Hatch, The Greek Manuscripts of the New Testa- 
ment at Mount Sinai (Paris, 1932), Plates XXI and XXII (Codd. 1878 and 1879, 
both being parts of the same manuscript) ; and his, The Greek Manuscripts of 
the New Testament in Jerusalem (Paris, 1934), Plates II (Cod. 1895), XI (Cod. 1313), 
XIII (Cod. 1888), and XVIII (Cod. 1312). 

".British Museum, Add. MS. 17148. See V. Gardthausen, Griechische Palaeo- 
graphie (second ed., Leipzig, 1911-1913), II, Tafel 2, col. 5. 

11 See V. Gardthausen, op. cit., II, Tafel 1, col. 3; and Sir E. M. Thompson, 
An Introduction to Greek and Latin Palaeography (Oxford, 1912), p. 144, cols. 4-6. 


Christian date. 12 The truth is that these letters had assumed the 
laterally compressed and elongated form long before the sixth cen- 
tury after Christ, and thus written they were used for various 
purposes. In one of the Wolfenbuttel palimpsests of the gospels, 
which is rightly ascribed to the sixth century by Tischendorf , the 
letters eeoc are laterally compressed and elongated not only in the 
titles of chapters, but also hi the biblical text at the end of a line. 1 ' 
Nevertheless, in the sixth and seventh centuries the round forms 
were usually employed in the sacred text. In the eighth century, 
however, the laterally compressed and elongated forms were often 
used in the biblical text, 14 but the round forms did not go entirely 
out of use. 16 In this period the latter were probably regarded hi 
some quarters as old-fashioned or archaic. 

The latest exegetical authorities quoted in the commentary are 
Severus of Antioch and Victor of Antioch. The former died shortly 
before the year 540, and the latter flourished about the middle of 
the sixth century. Hence, in view of the facts mentioned above, 
we need have no hesitation in ascribing Codex Zacynthius to the 
sixth century. 

It may be possible to determine the date more closely. The 
treatise of Severus against Julian of Halicarnassus is quoted once in 
the catena. The controversy which called forth this work arose 
after the deposition of the author from the see of Antioch in 518, 
and while both he and Julian were exiles in Egypt. Hence Codex 
Zacynthius must have been written after the year 518. 

Severus is mentioned by name and quoted five times in the 
commentary. He held and taught the Monophysite doctrine con- 
cerning the person of Christ, and he was indeed the foremost 
champion of his party in the first half of the sixth century. Mono- 
physitism, however, declined rapidly in prestige and influence after 
the accession of the Emperor Justin in 518, and soon thereafter 
Severus was deposed from his see and betook himself to Alexandria. 

12 See V. Gardthausen, op. tit., II, Tafel 4a, cols. 1-9 and 14-17; and Sir E. M. 
Thompson, op. tit., pp. 191 ff. 

13 Codex P. See C. Tischendorf, Monumenta Sacra Inedita (Leipzig, 1855-1870) , 
III, Tab. II. 

14 The letters e0oc in the later compressed and elongated form are found in 
the following eighth century manuscripts: Codd. L, SF, and 054. See W. H. P. 
Hatch, The Principal Untial Manuscripts of the New Testament. 

. 16 The letters e0oc always have the round form in Codex E. They are round 
also in the Koridethi MS., which is sometimes ascribed to the eighth century. 
See W. H. P. Hatch, op. tit. 


Some years later he was summoned to Constantinople by Justinian, 
but he and his party soon fell again into disfavor. In 536 he was 
condemned and anathematized and his writings were proscribed by 
a synod called by the orthodox patriarch of Constantinople. 
Justinian promptly confirmed the acts of the synod by an imperial 
edict, forbade the heresiarch to remain in Constantinople, and 
ordered his books to be burned. Thereupon Severus retired again 
to Egypt and died there shortly before the year 540. 

Now, as was said above, Severus is quoted five tunes in the 
catena of Codex Zacynthius, being designated each tune 'Arch- 
bishop of Antioch' and being called 'Saint' (roD &ytov) in four cases. 
After his condemnation by the synod of Constantinople and the 
emperor's edict in 536 his opinions would certainly not have been 
quoted with respect, at least in orthodox circles, along with those 
of Basil and Chrysostom, nor would he himself have been styled 
'Archbishop of Antioch' and 'Saint.' There is absolutely no reason 
for thinking that Codex Zacynthius was written in a heretical 
quarter, and therefore it would seem probable that it was copied 
before 536. 16 Severus wrote many letters, sermons, homilies, and 
theological treatises; and most of them were composed before his 
condemnation. On textual and palaeographical grounds there is 
no objection to ascribing Codex Zacynthius to the first half of the 
sixth century. After the condemnation of Severus some orthodox 
hand erased his name from the commentary. 

However, it must be borne hi mind that Victor of Antioch, who 
is called 'presbyter,' is quoted twice in the catena. He flourished 
about the middle of the sixth century. If, as is by no means im- 
possible, the exegetical writings of Victor were in circulation before 
536, Codex Zacynthius may well have been written between the 
years 518 and '536. In any case the manuscript was copied some- 
time in the sixth century. 

Codex Cyprius (K, 017, 671), which is preserved in the Biblio- 
theque Nationale hi Paris (Cod. gr. 63), is one of the more important 
of the later uncial manuscripts of the Four Gospels. It contains 
267 vellum leaves, which are 25 to 25.7 cm. in height and 18.8 to 

16 Dr. Tregelles thought that this possibility should be considered. He says: 
"It is worthy of inquiry if S may not have been really written before the synod 
of the year 536, and whether the erasure of the name of Severus did not take 
place in consequence." Cf. S. P. Tregelles, op. cit., p. xvii. 


18.9 cm. in width. The text is written in a single column, there 
are 16 to 31 lines to the page, and the ink is brown. 17 

Codex Cyprius is commonly ascribed to the ninth or tenth cen- 
tury. 18 The ninth century seems to the present writer too early, 
and he believes that it is possible to date the codex within much 
narrower limits than a hundred years. From the point of view of 
the text it belongs to a group of manuscripts which has been studied 
critically by Professor Bousset and Mrs. Lake. 19 The latter has 
shown that K is, in all probability, descended from mss. which 
cannot themselves be dated earlier than the end of the tenth cen- 
tury, and therefore on the basis of the text alone Codex Cyprius 
cannot be assigned to a date prior to this. 20 

The present writer has reached a similar result by studying the 
manuscript from the point of view of palaeography. In its general 
character the script of Codex Cyprius is most like that which is 
found in manuscripts of the tenth century and the early part of the 
eleventh. Although differences in the forms of certain letters can 
be noted, the handwriting of this codex bears a striking general 
resemblance to that of three gospel lectionaries of the tenth and 
eleventh centuries, viz. 1 296 (saec. X), 1 1599 (saec. X), and 1 3 
(saec. XI). 21 On the other hand no such likeness exists between 
Codex Cyprius and any of the leading uncial manuscripts of the 
New Testament which were written in the ninth century. More- 
over, the letters BAKAMS IIT^X^fl have forms which are character- 
istic of the late tenth or the early eleventh century; 22 and hence it 
seems reasonable to ascribe the codex to this period. 

Thus the two lines of investigation, the textual and the palaeo- 
graphical, converge towards the same point, and the conclusion 
indicated seems irresistible. Therefore it is altogether probable 
that Codex Cyprius was copied about 1000 A.D. 

17 See W. H. P. Hatch, op. tit. 

18 Cf. F. H. A. Scrivener, op. tit., I, p. 137 (saec. IX); C. R. Gregory, op. tit., 
I, p. 54 (saec. IX); and H. Omont, Facsimiles des plus antiens manuscrits grecs 
en ontiale et en minuscule de la Bibliotheque Nationals du IV 1 au XII 1 stick (Paris, 
1892), p. 9 and Planche XVII (saec. X). Formerly it was thought to be earlier. 
Montfaucon assigns it to the seventh or eighth century in one place and in another 
to about the eighth century. Cf. B. de Montfaucon, Palaeographia Graeca 
(Paris, 1708), pp. 41 and 231. 

19 See W. Bousset in Texte und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der dltchristlichen 
Literatur, XI, 4, pp. Ill ff.; and S. Lake, The Text of Family H and the Codex Alex- 
andrinus (London, 1936), Studies and Documents, Vol. V. 

20 Cf. S. Lake, op. tit., pp. 10, 26, 29 and 36. 

21 See W. H. P. Hatch, op. tit. 

22 See V. Gardthausen, op. tit., II, Tafel 3, cols. 5-7. 



Univerait&t Berlin 

Das Berliner Museum besitzt in seiner Papyrussammlung unter 
Nr. 13296 ein stark zerstortes und nur auf einer Seite lesbares Per- 
gamentblatt (28 X 16 cm.); das sich bei naherer Prufung als Rest 
einer antiken Weltchronik herausstellt. Im Jahre 1905 haben Adolf 
Bauer und Joseph Strzygowski mehrere Blatter einer im 5. Jh. 
auf Papyrus geschriebenen Weltchronik ediert (Papyrus Golen- 
itschey), die nicht nur wegen ihres Textes wertvoll, sondern vor 
allem um ihrer Illustrationen willen von grosser Bedeutung ist. 
Unser Blattchen ergibt sich als eine voile Parallele zu diesem Werk, 
freilich in allerbescheidenlstem Ausmass: es ist ein Buch von dem- 
selben Typ gewesen, aber kleiner im Format, bescheidener in der 
Ausstattung, primitiver in den Bildern. So sah ein historischer 
Hauskalender aus, den sich eine bildungsbeflissene, aber nicht mit 
Giitern gesegnete Familie anschaffen konnte. 

Mommsen hat im ersten Band der Chronica minora (Monumenta 
Germaniae, auctores antiquissimi IX, 1892) die beiden Haupttypen 
dieser Chroniken iibersichtlich ediert. Er nennt den einen die Con- 
sularia Constantinopolitana (p. 205-247), deren Hauptzeugen die 
sogenannten Fasti Hydatiani (lateinisch) und die entsprechenden 
Angaben des Chronicon Paschale (griechisch) sind. Diesem Werk 
liegt eine altere stadtromische Chronik zu Grunde, die in Konstan- 
tinopel weitergefuhrt ist. Der zweite Typ wird von Mommsen als 
Consularia Italica bezeichnet und liegt in drei Hauptfassungen vor: 
dem "Chronicon Cuspiniani" d. h. den Fasti Vindobonenses priores, 
einer kiirzeren als Fasti Vindobonenses posteriores iiberschriebenen, 
und dem ausfuhrlicheren Text des Barbarus Scaligeri: dazu treten 
spater noch der Anonymus Valesianus und Agnellus. Dieser zweite 
Typ beruht auf dem erstgenannten, ist aber in Italien weitergefuhrt 
und spater in Ravenna fortgesetzt worden. Der Barbarus Scaligeri 
bringt einen Text, der hi Alexandria beniitzt und durch dortige 
Lokalnotizen, agyptische Tagesdaten und Angabe der jeweiligen 
Augustales d. h. der Praefecti Aegypti erweitert ist. Diese agyp- 



tische Ausgabe war mit Bildern geschmiickt, wie jetzt immer deutli- 
cher wird. Die Handschrift des Barbarus bringt die Bilder zwar 
nicht, lasst aber jeweils Platz fiir die einzelnen Illustrationen frei 
und hat gelegentlich auch ihre Beischriften erhalten. Der Papyrus 
Golenitschev hat den Text in Verkiirzung samt den Bildern er- 
halten und gibt so die beste Vorstellung von dem Aussehen dieser 
Chronik. Dazu tritt jetzt unser Fragment, welches den ebenfalls 
verkiirzten Text und die Bilder bringt und zwar in den Teilen, die 
den Cons. Italica entnpmmen sind: das sind die Angaben liber die 
Jahre 251-306 und 335-338, d. h. das Hauptstuck des Blattes. 
Mitten hineingesprengt ist die 306-334 umfassende Partie: diese 
stammt aus den Cons. Cpolit. und hat keine Bilder. Vermutlich 
ist diese Einlage durch eine mechanische Zerstorung der Vorlage 
unseres Schreibers veranlasst worden. Sein Exemplar war hinter 
306 luckenhaft, und so griff er zu einem andern Kalender, um das 
Fehlende zu erganzen. Dadurch erklart sich.auch, dass bei der 
Flickarbeit die Jahre 307-311 ausgefallen sind. 

Unsere Chronik lauf t auch in Bezug auf die Bilder dem Barbarus 
parallel, aber bringt, ebenso wie beim Text, nur eine Auswahl. Ich 
stelle die Gegenstande iibersichtlich nebeneinander, wobei ich fiir 
den Barbarus den zeilengetreuen Abdruck hi A. Schoene's Ausgabe 
der Eusebianischen Chronik, Bd. 1, S. 233 f. benutze und Strzy- 
gowski's Deutungen, S. 142 zu Rate ziehe. 

Chron. Berol. Barbarus 

251 Passion des Laurentius diese Seiten fehlen in der Hs. 

258 Passion des Cyprianus . 

305 Diokletian zerstort Kirchen? 302 Diokletian zersto'rt Kirchen 

306 Passion des Timotheus 304 Passion des Timotheus 

318 Konstantins Sohne. 1 Griindung 


320 Kreuzauffindung 
325 Bischof Alexander 
Konzil von Nicaea 
Minnie Alexanders 

336 Translation der Reliquien des 336 Translation der Reliquien des 
Andreas und Lukas Andreas und Lukas 

Die Bilder sind als Strichzeichmmgen mit spitzer Feder ausge- 
fiihrt und dann koloriert worden: aber nur geringe Reste der Farben 

1 Das von Strzygowski davor vermutete Bild des Konstantin ist moglich. der 
Untergang des Maximus aber kaum den 3 Zeilen Raum entsprechend. 

Berliner Museum, Papyrus Nr. 13296 


tische Ausgabe war mit Bildern geschmuckt, wie jetzt immer deutli- 
cher wird. Die Handschrift des Barbaras bringt die Bilder zwar 
nicht, lasst aber jeweils Platz fur die einzelnen Illustrationen frei 
und hat gelegentlich auch ihre Beischriften erhalten. Der Papyrus 
Golenitschev hat den Text in Verkiirzung samt den Bildern er- 
halten und gibt so die beste Vorstelhmg von dem Aussehen dieser 
Chromic. Dazu tritt jetzt unser Fragment, welches den ebenfalls 
verkiirzten Text und die Bilder bringt und zwar in den Teilen, die 
den Cons. Italica entnommen sind: das sind die Angaben iiber die 
Jahre 251-306 und 335-338, d. h. das Hauptstiick des Blattes. 
Mitten hineingesprengt ist die 306-334 umfassende Partie: diese 
stammt aus den Cons. Cpolit. und hat keine Bilder. Vermutlich 
ist diese Einlage durch eine mechanische Zerstorung der Vorlage 
unseres Schreibers veranlasst worden. Sein Exemplar war hinter 
306 Itickenhaft, und so griff er zu einem andern Kalender, um das 
Fehlende zu erganzen. Dadurch erklart sich auch, dass bei der 
Flickarbeit die Jahre 307-311 ausgef alien sind. 

Unsere Chronik lauft auch in Bezug auf die Bilder dem Barbarus 
parallel, aber bringt, ebenso wie beim Text, nur eine Auswahl. Ich 
stelle die Gegenstande iibersichtlich nebeneinander, wobei ich fiir 
den Barbarus den zeilengetreuen Abdruck in A. Schoene's Ausgabe 
der Eusebianischen Chronik, Bd. 1, S. 233 f. benutze und Strzy- 
gowski's Deutungen, S. 142 zu Rate ziehe. 

Chron. Berol. Barbarus 

251 Passion des Laurentius diese Seiten fehlen in der Hs. 

258 Passion des Cyprianus 

305 Diokletian zerstort Kirchen? 302 Diokletian zerstort Kirchen 

306 Passion des Timotheus 304 Passion des Timotheus 

318 Konstantins Sohne. 1 Griindung 


320 Kreuzauffindung 
325 Bischof Alexander 
Konzil von Nicaea 
Mumie Alexanders 

336 Translation der Reliquien des 336 Translation der Reliquien des 
Andreas und Lukas Andreas und Lukas 

Die Biider sind als Strichzeichnungen mit spitzer Feder ausge- 
fiihrt und dann koloriert worden: aber nur geringe Reste der Farben 

1 Das von Strzygowski davor vermutete Bild des Konstantin ist moglich, der 
Qntergang des Maximus aber kaum den 3 Zeilen Raum entsprechend. 


X ^ii-A5gj(rfjB(rivi.i.-:,{ * ..::';^i,' ' . '' 

.MTriMiRlK^ v .>-rr..U : .-..> r ; ' ' <..., 

.-IWf ^t^ 


Berliner Museum, Papyrus Nr. 13296 


sind noch zu erkennen oder vielmehr aus ihrer Einwirkung auf das 
Pergament zu erschliessen. Das erste Bild zeigt den Martyrer 
Laurentius, und zwar im Brustbild. Er hat ein bartloses jugend- 
liches Gesicht und tragt kurzgeschnittenes Haar. Bekleidet 1st er 
mit einer durch Clavi gezierten Tunika, deren Armel eng das Gelenk 
umschliessen. Die Hande sind zum Gebet erhoben, eine ist frei- 
lich mit dem Pergament verloren gegangen. Die Verkiirzung einer 
Figur zum Kopf- oder Brustbild ist auch in der altchristlichen Kunst 
sehr beliebt: die Medaillonreihen der Lipsanothek von Brescia und 
der alten Paulskirche zu Horn sind bekannte Zeugnisse daftir. 
Desgleichen die Biisten, die in der Mitte der Mosaikfelder den Rund- 
gang von S. Constanza schmiicken oder die Portratfiguren in den 
Clipei der Sarkophage. Der Verstorbene als Orans ist eine der 
ersten christlichen Schopfungen, und die Darstellung des Martyrers 
als Orans die einfache Konsequenz aus dieser Vorstellung: auf 
romischen Goldglasern findet man die hi. Agnes besonders oft in 
dieser Haltung. Aber im Ganzen ist sie eine Seltenheit. 

Das zweite Bild soil das Martyrium des hi. Cyprian darstellen: 
es ist aber so zerstort, dass kaum etwas Sicheres gesehen werden 

Links glaube ich den vor die Brust gehobenen rechten Arm eines 
mit enger Armeltunika bekleideten Marines zu erkennen, rechts 
unten einen Fuss, die Bauchlinie und einen wagerecht sich auf- 
stiitzenden Unterarm eines am Boden liegenden Menschen, also 
wohl des Cyprian. Zwischen beiden ein nach oben sich verbrei- 
ternder Gegenstand, vielleicht die Fasces. 

Bild 3 ist durch Flecken und Verlust des Pergaments zum volligen 
Ratsel geworden, und die dariiber stehenden Buchstaben <ra<f geben 
auch keinen brauchbaren Fingerzeig. Die. rechtwinkligen Linien 
konnten eme Stadt ergeben: iiber dem Tor ist ein rechteckiges 
Fenster mit Kreuzgitter; aus einem Gebaude innerhalb des Halb- 
rundes der Mauer schlagen zwei Flammengarben. Aber das ist 
nur unsichere Vermutung. 

Bild 4 mit der Passion des Timotheus ist ganz zerstort. 

Bild 5 zeigt links die Kopfe und Schultern von zwei Mannern, 
welche offenbar die Reliquien der Heiligen Andreas und Lukas 
tragen; von dem rechten ist auch noch ein sandalbekleideter Fuss 
erhalten. Die Stadt Kpel. ist hi der verktirzten Form dargestellt: 
ein grosses Tor mit wagerechtem Tiirsturz, flankiert von zwei iiber 
der Mauer sich erhebenden Turmen, deren dreieckig gezeichnete 


Dacher an jeder Ecke eine Kugel tragen. Bin Halbkreis stellt den 
iibrigen Mauerring dar; gegeniiber dem Tor steht ein dritter Turm. 

Ob der Zeichner auch versucht hat, im Innern der Stadt Gebaude 
anzudeuten, 1st nicht mehr sicher zu erkennen. Diese auf die 
Grundelemente reduzierte und das Tor in den Vordergrund schie- 
bende Form der schematischen Stadtdarstellung begegnet uns um 
400 vielfach; insbesondere ist sie in den Mosaiken von S. Maria 
Maggiore in Rom beliebt und findet sich da sowohl in den Bildern 
des Langhauses als auch auf dem Triumphbogen des Xystus: Bei- 
spiele bei Wilpert, die romischen Mosaiken und Malereien, Bd. 3, 
Taf. 9, 13% 18, vgl. 23 b , 24 b , und dann Taf. 61-62, 66-68, 73, wo 
auch die Kugeln auf den dreieckigen Turmdachern zu beachten sind. 

Die Schrift weist des Blatt etwa ins endende vierte oder begin- 
nende fiinfte Jahrhundert: es ist also den genannten Mosaiken von 
S. Maria Maggiore gleichaltrig und jedenfalls erheblich alter als der 
Papyrus Golenitschev. Die Konsullisten waren mit gewohnlicher 
schwarzer Tinte geschrieben, die chronistischen Notizen sind samt- 
lich in etwas breiteren Zeilen und mit roter Tinte geschrieben. 

W. Schubart hat den Text als Erster gelesen und zwar zu einer 
Zeit, wo er noch deutlicher erkennbar war als jetzt: er hat mir 
freundlichst erlaubt, seine Abschrift zu beniitzen und hat fragliche 
Stellen noch einmal gemeinsam mit mir nachgepruft. Ich sage ihm 
dafiir herzlichen Dank, ebenso auch fur die tlberlassung einer Pho- 
tographic, die dem Beschauer doch auch Einzelheiten vermittelt. 
Ich gebe nun den Text und lasse ihm Anmerkungen folgen. 

251 [Ae/uou j] Kal K6ra[pos Ac/clou] 

TJ) fa .%ir]adev [Aaup&rtos] 

[6 di&Kovos] kv T&jtifo irp6 d 18 . Afry . ] 

Bild 1 

252 [ FdXXou ] Kal BoXou[<r]iaroD 

253 [BoXouffiavoO j3] Kai Ma|[ijuov] 

254 [BaXeptawO] Kal Ta\\i[evov] 

255 [Ba\epiavov] )8 Kal Ta\\iwov j8 

256 [ Ma&nov ] Kal Tappiovos 

257 [BaXepiawO] y Kal TaXXicwO -y 

258 [ TO^OTKOU ] Kal BAo-crou 

TJJ bir . ]%ira8tv Kvirpiavds 

[tv "KapOayQwy irpb it) KaX.'0/CTW/3. 



259 [ Al/uXiaww ] *al BaMou P 

260 [SeKovXapiou] not &O[V]&TOV 

261 [TaXXiewD 6] teal Eo[\ov<r]iavov 

262 [ raXXwrov e ] Kal Ma[i]/wu 

263 [ 'AX/Hwu ] Kal A%[rp]ov 

264 [FaXXiepoO's] Kal 2aro[vp]vi[i/oi;] 

265 [BaXeptawO 5] xal AOUK[I]\X[OU] 

266 [raXXieww f] fcal SaToupfj/lwu /] 

267 [ Har^pwu ] /cai 'ApxsXaofu] 

268 [ Har^pwv j ] /cai Maptwa[wO] 

269 [KXauSiou Kal] ILartpvov [y] 

270 ['A.VTIOXIO-VOV Kal] 'Op0iTOU 

p [fnr. 

306 Ka)0raj>[Tiou s Kai Ma^ijuiavoD s] 

jy T&MCT ?rpA t xaX. 'Io[i>Xlco]y 

rfj OTT . ^reXe^T^fo'eJj' Kcoo 1 - 

[TAJ]TIOS Kai /terd 

(3a<r . irpb rj KO\ . A.vy 

313 Kwo > rai'[Tlj'ou 7 Ka]i 

314 BoXoutrtfapoO ^] Kai ' 

315 [KtacrTavrivov d Kal] A.iKivv[lov y] 

316 [ SajSiwu ] K[a]i 

[rtay]fo el? SaX&pa irpb y v[uv . ACK . ] 
317 [raXXuaroO Kal] Ea[ffffov] 


325 [rait]?*?? r# vir . fo^ayij A.iidvvu)s 

326 [K]u<rTavTivov not 

g i>ir.tff<l>&yri Kplonros 

327 Kworavr. 8 nal Ma.t-lfj.ov 

328 'Iavo[va]plov 

329 Ko)<T[Ta]vTivov 

330 [rcJXXiKaww Kal 0&[aXepio]t; 

inr . afacp&di KWOT.TTO. 

irp6 e IS&v 

331 Bd<r<rou Kal 'A|3Xa|3iou 

332 nafcartam} Kal 'IXapiavou 

333 AaXjuartou xal 

334 'OTTTarou *c[ai] 

/Sao* . Trpd 77 KaX . ' lavovap . 

335 Kcooravriou /cal 'A\@ivov 

336 IIo/iTreiai'oO Kal $aKo{>v5ov 

rfj i)ir . lafj\0ev iv Kwar . TTO . 

TO, Xlju^ava T&V ayluv 

'Avdpta Kal AOUKO* ?rpd ia KaX. 'louX. 


337 [$rj\iKiavov ] Kal .Tm[ai']oD 

338 [Otipaov ] 

[r'tvos] IT pit la KaX.['Iou'i]cjj' 

251 Die Spuren der Buchstaben K6<r fiihren auf die im Text gege- 
bene Erganzung, welche dem iiberwiegend bezeugten Tatbestand 
entspricht. Die Consularia Italica, p. 289, haben Decio II et 
Rustico. Die folgende chronistische Notiz muss ein Martyrium 
in Horn anzeigen, das geht aus den lesbaren Resten mit Sicherheit 
hervor. Dann ist angesichts der sonstigen tJberernstimmung un- 
seres Textes mit den Cons. Ital. das wahrscheinlichste, dass eine 
Anmerkung wie die der Fasti Vind. priores hier gestanden hat: 
Ms cons, passws est sanctus Laurentius III idus Aug. Fiir die 
ausfuhrlichere Fassung der Vind. post., die iibrigens die Notizen 
356 bringen, reicht der Platz nicht aus: his consul, passus est Sixtus 


episcopue et Laurentius diaconus Romae VIII Idus Augustas. Unser 
Text ist nach beiden Quellen rekonstruiert: doch liegt keine Veran- 
lassung vor, das falsche Tagesdatum zu iibernehmen: Laurentius 
ist am 10 Aug. = IV id. Aug. gestorben: VIII id. Aug. = 6 Aug. 
ist der Tag der Sixtus. Aber der Fehler im Jahresansatz ist nicht 
zu beseitigen: der Tod des Laurentius ist 258 erfolgt und hat mit 
der Decianischen Verfolgung keinen Zusammenhang. Im Liber 
pontificalis (I p. 34, 14 ed. Mommsen) wird in einer Zusatzbemerk- 
ung der Tod des Sixtus gleichfalls in die decianische Verfolgung 
gelegt, obwohl der Haupttext ganz richtig von Valerian spricht. 

255 Die Cons. Ital. machen hier Konfusion durch Auslassung 
eines Konsulats: unser Text ist richtig. 

256 lies T\applovos. 

258 Die Notiz erganzt nach Cons. Ital. p. 289: his consulibus 
passus est Cyprianus in Carthagine xviii Kl. Octobris. Statt des in 
klassischer Zeit gebrauchten Namens KapxnS&v begegnet hi spaterer 
Zeit auch lLa.pQo.yiva. oder Ka.p0a.ytwa, z. B. hi den Ephesinischen 
Konzilsakten (Vgl. Acta Graeca, fasc. 8, p. 28, ed. Schwartz) oder 
bei Theophanes Chron. p. 186, 25, 370, 10 de Boor.). 

262 Gallieno V et Faustina (oder Faustiniano) haben die Chroni- 
ken hi tlbereinstimmung mit den ubrigen Zeugen. Des Mat/Mw 
unseres Textes ist wohl aus einer Variante zu Dextro entstanden, 
die hi einer Vorlage fiber dies Wort geschrieben war: Prosper's 
Chronik p. 441 hat namlich zu 263 Albino et Maximo statt des 
richtigen Albino et Dextro. 

265 P hat richtig AowclXXov = Lucillo: Vind. prior, hat durch 
Verschreibung Lolliano. 

266 Dagegen ist hi diesem Konsulat "Sarovpvlvov wohl versehent- 
lich aus 264 herubergenommen: Sabinillo muss es heissen. 

267 'ApxeXAov ist verschrieben statt J A/>xe<riXAou = Archesilao: 
Vhid. post. = Arcesilao. 

268 P ist von den Fehlern Mariano Vind. prior, und Marino 
Vind. post. frei. 

270-304 fehlen die Konsulatsangaben durch Zerstorung des 
Pergaments: es sind also mindestens 35 Zeilen ausgef alien, ver- 
mutlich aber mehr, da zu 303 und 304 chronistische Notizen analog 
den hi die Cons. Ital. eingeschobenen gewesen sein werden. Der 
Ausfall ist auf der abgerissenen linken Halfte des Blattes und auf 
dem fehlenden Oberteil der rechten Halfte unterzubrhigen. Fur 
weitere Bilder ist freilich kein Platz anzunehmen. 


305 Die Konsulatsangabe 1st zerstort: von dem chronistischen 
Notat ist ausser dem TIJ der Einleitungsformel nur o^ erhalten. 
Vermutlich stand hier ein Hinweis auf die Diokletianische Ver- 

306 Die Konsulatsangabe ist durch die ersten Buchstaben sicher 
gestellt, und die darauf folgende Passionsnotiz entspricht der in 
den Fasti Vind. prior, p. 291 erhaltenen Angabe his cons, passus est 
Timotheus Romae X Kl. Jul. Die fasti Vind. post, bringen dasselbe 
mit der Variante X kl. Septemb., aber zum Jahre 303. Der 
Chronograph von 354 notiert zum XI Kal. Sept. Timothei Ostense 
und das Carthaginische Martyrolog zu demselben Datum sancti 
Timothei. Fiigen wir hinzu, dass der Barbarus Scaligeri p. 291 
anlasslich der diokletianischen Verfolgung des Jahres 304 berichtet 
et multi martyrizaverunt, in quibus et Timotheus episcopus in Char- 
tagine gloriose martyrizavit, so ist unser Quellenmaterial iiber diesen 
Timotheus erschopft. Und es ist so unsicher, dass man eben nur 
die Geschichtlichkeit dieses Martyriums in der diokletianischen 
Verfolgung, und zwar an einem 22. August, daraus entnehmen kann. 
Als Ort ist Rom wohl durch die Grabangabe des Chronogr. von 354 
gesichert: dann erscheint die Mitteilung des Barbarus iiber die 
Bischofswiirde und das Karthagische Martyrium des Timotheus 
als spatere Erdichtung. Auch Delehaye in seinem Kommentar zu 
Quentin's Ausgabe des Martyrologium Hieronymianum (Acta 
Sanct. Nov. torn. 2 pars 2, p. 456 f .) aussert sich sehr zuriickhaltend. 
Die zweite Notiz findet ihre genaue Parallele in den Cons. Con- 
stantinopolitana p. 231 zum selben Jahre 306 his conss. diemfunctus 
Constantius et postea levatus est Constantinus VIII. k. Aug. Das 
ist zutreffend: Konstantius ist am 25. Juli 306 gestorben und sein 
Sohn Konstantin am gleichen Tag noch zum Kaiser ausgerufen 
worden. Mit dieser Note geht der Schreiber zu der neuen Vorlage 
iiber, die er erst bei 334 verlasst. 

307-310 Die Konsularreihe dieser Jahre ist ausgefallen. 

314 Die fast. Vind. prior, stellen 315. 314 um. 

316 Diesem Jahr ist eine chronistische Notiz beigegeben die in den 
Cons. Cpolit. p. 231 eine Parallele hat : his conss. diem functus est 
Dioclitianus Salona III n. Dec. Aber Diokletian ist am 3. Dez. 316 
gestorben und nicht gewaltsam getotet worden (taQ&yij), wie unser 
Text behauptet: das hatte sich Lactantius nicht entgehen lassen. 
Aber auch er berichtet de mort. persec. 42 nur davon, dass der 
Kummer iiber die politischen Ereignisse ihn zum Verzicht auf 


Nahrung und Schlafgetrieben und so getotet habe. Bei unserem 
Text scheint die Phantasie in seinem Tod ein Analogon zu anderen 
gottlichen Strafgerichten gesehen (Licinius!) zu haben. 

319-325 Die Konsularreihen sind zerstort, nur einzelne cai sind 
zu entziffern. 

325 Die Chroniknotiz wie Cons. Cpol. p. 232 Ms conss. occisus 

326 Ebenso Cons. Cpol. p. 232 his conss. occisus est Crispus. 

327 Constant losen die tibrigen Zeugen den Namen auf. Aber 
es war sein erstes Konsulat, sodass die Zahl 4 hinter dem Namen 
ein Irrtum ist. Ahnliche Konfusion macht das Chron. pasch. in 
diesen Jahren durch f alsche Auflosung der ahnlichen Namen dieser 

330 Die zweite Konsul heisst Tullianus Symmachus Valerius, 
und in den meisten Listen wird er Symmachus genannt (vgl. Chron. 
min. 3, 520: hier ist allein Valerius gesagt.) Cons. Cpol. p. 233: 
his conss. dedicata est Constantinopoli die V idus Mai. 

334 Cons. Cpol. p. 234 notieren his conss. levatus est Constans die 
VIII K. Jan., aber zum Konsulat von 333, und das ist richtig. 
Die Chroniken varieren mannigfach vgl. Clinton Fasti Romani 
z. J. 333. 

336 Kofjnreiavov ist Entstellung des richtigen und in den ubrigen 
Chroniken stehenden Nepotiano: moglicherweise geht die Form 
zuriick auf eine ursprunglich vollstandigere Namensnennung ahnlich 
der auf Munzen begegnenden Fl. Pop(ilius) Nepotianus. 

Die Translation von Reliquien der Apostel Andreas und Lukas 
berichten zu demselben Konsulat die fasti Vind. prior, (his con- 
sulibus introierunt Constantinopolim Lucas et Andreas) und der 
Barbarus p. 293: hisdem consulibus translati sunt in Constantino- 
polim sanctus Andreas apostolus et sanctus Lucas evangelista X. Kl. 
Julias. Hier ist deutlich, wie unser griechischer Text beiden 
Fassungen zu Grunde liegt, Vind. hat ihn verkiirzt, Barbarus er- 
weitert. Die fasti Vind. post, haben aus der Translation eine 
Passion gemacht, was ganz lehrreich ist: dem entsprechend ist auch 
das traditionelle Datum des 30. Nov. beigeschrieben. Die Un- 
sinnigkeit des Ansatzes einer apostolischen Passion auf das Jahr 
335 dahin versetzen sie Vind. post. hat den Schreiber nicht ges- 
tort. Das richtige Datum des Kirchenfestes ist der 20. Juni, vgl. 
Synaxarium eccles. Cpolit. ed. Delehaye p. 759 (Acta Sanct. Nov. 
Propylaeum); also ist XII. Kal. Jul. zu lesen. Aber wir lernen 


endlich aus dem Synaxar, dass es sich nur um Translation der 
aufgefundenen "Rocke und Mantel" dieser Heiligen handelt und 
dass auch analoge Reliquien der Apostel Johannes und Thomas 
sowie das Propheten Elias und eines Martyrers Lazarus gleich- 
zeitig in der Apostelkirche beigesetzt wurden. Dagegen fand die 
ttberfuhrung der Leichname der Apostel Andreas und Lukas in die 
Apostelkirche am 3. Marz 357 statt in naher zeitlicher Verbindung 
mit dem Leichnam des Timotheus, wie aus den Cons. Cpolit. p. 239, 
dem Synaxar p. 266 sowie dem Zeugnis des Philostorgius hist. eccl. 3, 
2 p. 31 Bidez und Theodorus Lector 2, 61 hervorgeht: vgl. auch die 
Nachahmung in Fondi Paulinus Nol. ep. 32, 17 p. 292, 25 Hartel: 
derselbe Paulinus verwechselt auch bereits die beiden Translationen, 
indem er der tlberfuhrung der Leiche dem Konstantin zuschreibt 
carm. 19, 329, 336. Mommsen, dem des Synaxar noch nicht be- 
kannt war, hat unserem Chronisten eine Verwechselung Schuld 
gegeben (p. 256, 258) : das ist nun zu berichtigen. 

338 Den Tod Konstantins schreiben die Cons. Cpol. p. 235 
richtig dem Jahre 337 zu: hisconss. Constantinus Aug. ad caekstia 
regna ablatus est die XI Kal. Jun. In unserem Text liegt ein 
Schreibfehler vor. 




University of Aberdeen 

That St. Jerome in his commentary on St. Matthew's Gospel 
did not quote the Gospel text in extenso would not be readily ap- 
parent to a casual reader of the Vallarsi edition reprinted by 
Migne. It is true that Vallarsi says hi a note at the beginning: 
"quae hinc subsequuntur Scripturae verba, Abraham genuit, etc. 
in nostris mss. desiderantur, quibus solemne est, ea duntaxat per- 
ferre commata, quae subsequens expositio enarret." But so dis- 
tinguished a scholar as C. H. Turner appears to have overlooked 
this note, for he writes: "it seems that Vallarsi, whether with or 
without MS. authority, habitually prolongs the lemmata beyond the 
point at which our (i.e. the Worcester) fragments and the other 
MSS. which I have consulted conclude them, and the passages 
thus inserted are of course borrowed from the Vulgate." 1 It has 
become perfectly clear from a complete collation I have made of 
the six oldest manuscripts that St. Jerome copied out only the parts 
of the Gospel on which he had something especially to say. 

Four of these six manuscripts agree in the omission of particular 
portions of the Gospel on which Jerome made no comments. So also 
do the other two, for the most part, but these two manuscripts, 
which are related to one another, Boulogne 47 (saec. viii, formerly 
at Arras), and Rome Vat. Pal. 177 2 (saec. ix, formerly at Lorsch), 
do occasionally make additions to the passages quoted by Jerome, 
and the interesting fact about these additions is that they are made 
from an Old-Lathi, not from a Vulgate manuscript. I wish we 
could say with certainty where these additions were made, in a 
common ancestor of our two manuscripts, but the evidence does 
not seem sufficient to settle the question with certainty. I have 

1 Early Worcester MSS, by C. H. Turner (Oxford, 1916) p. xv. 

2 1 gratefully acknowledge the help of Mr. Robert J. Getty in the collation of 
rotographs of this MS, the cost of which was kindly paid from the Craven Fund 
of the University of Cambridge, England. 



copied the passages below and have made a sort of apparatus to 
them from Vogels' valuable Vulgatastudien (Miinster i. W. 1928), 
in the effort to arrive at a conclusion. That the manuscript of the 
Gospel used by this interpolator was Old-Latin, not Vulgate, is 
perfectly clear, if only from xx, 28a-c, which verses are not in the 
Vulgate at all. I offer the text, such as it is, as a small tribute to 
the great scholar in whose honor this volume is published. 

(The portions of text which Jerome himself actually copied out 
are not precisely Vulgate, but are closely akin to it, as appears from 
a tentative study of them I have already made.) 

(i, 23) filium et uocabunt eius nomen emmanuhel quod est inter- 
pretatum nobiscum deus 

^ nomen eius vt vg 

(ii, 2) et uenimus adorare eum 

(ii, 19-20) defunctum autem herode ecce apparuit angelus Domini 
in somnis ioseph in aegypto dicens surge et accipe puerum et 
matrem eius et uade in terram israhel 

app. ang. dom. 6 vg ^ ang. Dom. app. a g q 
^ ios. hi somn. g et (1) om. q 

(ii, 22) timuit illuc ire 

illuc g q vg illo a b 

(viii, 8) et respondens centurio ait domine non sum dignus ut 
intres sub tectum meum sed tantum die uerbo et sanabitur 
puer meus 

ait] dixit q + illi a b g 

puer meus om. a (?) meus om. b 

(viii, 9) et alio ueni et uenit et seruo meo dico fac nos et facit 

et (1) om. a alii q dico om. q vg 

(viii, 11) dico autem uobis quod 

quoniam q 

(xvi, 25) qui enim uoluerit animam suam saluam facere perdet earn 
qui enim perdiderit animam suam propter me inueniet earn 


quid enim prodest homini si hunc mundum lucretur . animae 

uero suae detrimentum patiatur 

saluam faceret ff saluare q 
enim] autem vt vg prode est a b ff proderit q 
hunc mundum] totum mundum a ff uniuersum 
mundum g mundum uniuersum vg lucrifaciat b 
^ suae uero a om uero ff 

(xvii, 14) et cum uenisset ad turbam accessit ad eum homo genibus 
prouolutus (-is) ante eum dicens 

uenisse b uenissent q homo] quidam g 
prouolutus b q vg prouolutis ff 
ante eum] + rogans eum et b 

(xvii, 17) adferte hue ilium ad me 

adducite hoc a afferte mihi ilium hue q 

(xvii, 27) ut autem non scandalizemus eos 

(xviii, 89) bonum tibi est in uitam (^ in uitam est) uenire debilem 
clodum quam duos pedes uel duas manus habentem mitti in 
ignem aeternum et si oculus tuus scandalizat te erue eum et 
proice abs te bonum tibi est unum oculum habentem in uitam 
aeternam intrare quam duos oculos habentem mitti in gehen- 
nam ignis 

est om. ff in] ad vg uenire] ingredi vg 
debilem] + uel vt vg ^ duas manus uel duos pedes vg 
tuus om. a ^.oc. un. a unum oculum habentem] 
unoculum vg aeternam om. vt vg intrare] uenire a 6 g 

(xviii, 10-11) mei qui in caelis est uenit filius hominis saluare quod 

uenit] 6 + enim ff g q vg + autem a 

(xviii, 13) et si contigerit ut inueniat earn amen dico uobis quod 
gaudebit in ea (earn) magis quam in nonaginta nouem quae 

quia vg in] super g vg in 2] super vg 

(xviii, 15-17) solum si te audierit lucratus eris fratrem tuum si 


autem non audierit adhibe tecum adhuc unum uel duos ut in 
ore duum testium uel trium stet omne uerbum quod si non 
audierit eos die ecclesiae si autem ecclesiam non audierit sit 
tibi sicut ethnicus et publicanus 

eris] es q g autem] + et vg non q non te vt vg 
adhuc] om ff + et a duum q duorum vt vg 
^ uel trium testium ff g q sicut] tamquam q 

(xvii, 22) dicit illi iesus non dico tibi usque septies sed usque sep- 
tuagies septies 

(xviii, 24) et cum coepisset rationem ponere 

(xviii, 25-34) cum autem non haberet unde redderet, iussit eum 
dominus eius uenum dari et uxorem (-es) eius et filios et omnia 
quae habuit et reddi debitum procidens autem seruus ille 
orabat eum dicens patientiam babe in me et omnia reddam 
tibi misertus (+est) autem dominus serui illius dimisit eum et 
debitum remisit illi egressus autem seruus ille inuenit unum ex 
conseruis suis qui debebat ei centum denarios et tenens suffo- 
cabat eum dicens redde quod debes et procidens conseruus 
eius rogabat eum dicens patientiam babe in me et reddam tibi 
ille autem noluit sed habuit et misit eum in carcerem donee 
redderet debitum uidentes autem conserui eius quae fiebant 
contristati sunt et uenerunt et nuntiauerunt domino suo omnia 
quae facta erant tune uocauit eum dominus suus et ait illi 
nequam serue omne debitum remisi tibi quia rogasti me (me 
rogasti) non ergo oportuit te quoque misereri conseruo tuo sic ut 
et ego tui misertus sum et iratus est dominus eius et tradidit 
eum tortoribus quoad usque redderet uniuersum debitum 
dominus om. g eius om. a vg habebat vt vg debi- 
tum om. vg autem] ergo g ille om. q + ad pedes 
domini sui a adorabat q dicens] + domine ff g q 
tibi om. b ff ^ tibi reddam q est om. vt vg remisit] 
dimisit g q r vg illi g ei vt vg ex] de g vg et red- 
dam] et omnia reddam q vg eius] illius bq sunt] 
+ ualde g q vg nunti.] narr. vt vg enarr. q erant] 
fuerant g sunt q eum a b g ilium ff q vg ^ serue 
nequa (nequam) vt vg dimisi g vg quoniam vt vg 
rogasti me vt vg te] et te a q vg quoque om g q vg 


conserui tui q vg et ego] ego g est om. vt vg eius 
am a et om vt vg 

(xix, 1-2) et factum est cum locutus esset sermones istos iesus 
transtulit se a galilaea et uenit in finibus iudaeae ( + et) trans 
iordanem et secutae sunt eum turbae multae et curauit eos ibi 
consum(m) asset q vg ^ serm. ist. ies. a b 
ies. serm. ist. ff g q vg migrauit vg finibus a ff 
fines b g q vg et a, om. vt vg 

(xix, 4) et respondens iesus ait 

et resp. ies.] qui resp. vg ait] + eis g q vg 

(xix, 28) et vos 

sic vt vg: om. codd. Hieron. A C E F 

(xx, 14) uolo autem et huic nouissimo dare sicut et tibi 

et 1 et 2 om. q 

(xx, 16) Sic erunt nouissimi primi et primi nouissimi (^ nouissimi 
primi) multi autem sunt uocati pauci uero elect! 

autem sunt q] sunt enim vt vg uero ff autem vt vg 

(xx, 22) dicunt ei possumus 

(xx, 25-27) et qui maiores sunt potestatem exercent in eos non ita 
erit inter uos sed quicumque uoluerit inter uos maior fieri erit 
uester minister et qui uoluerit inter uos primus esse erit uester 

habent ff eisaffq ^ inter uos autem non erit sic ff 

erit uester] sit uester vg 

(xx, 28a-c) uos autem quaeritis (-etis) de pusillis crescere et de 
maiore minores esse intrantes autem et rogati ad c(a)enam 
nolite recumbere in locis eminentioribus ne forte clarior 
superueniat et accedens qui ad caenam uocauit te dicat tibi 
adhuc deorsum accede et confunderis si autem in loco inferiore 
(-i) recubueris et superuenerit humilior te et dicit qui te ad 
caenam uocauit accede adhuc susum et erit hoc tibi utilius 
totum capitulum om vg pusillo vt de minore maiores 


esse & in om. ff ^ emin. loc. ff clarior] + te vt 
^ te ad cen. uoc. ff inferiors ff inferior! dbq et dicit] 
dicet tibi vt dicit tibi ff ^ te uoc. ad cen. ff ad cen. 
uoc. te b susum uide Sabat. superius vt 
(xx, 32-33) quid uultis ut faciam uobis dicunt illi domine ut 
aperiantur oculi nostri 

ut om. a b 

(xxi, 25-26) at illi cogitabant inter se dicentes si dixerimus e (de) 
caelo dicet nobis qua re non credidistis illi si autem dixerimus 
ex hominibus timemus turbam omnes enim habebant iohannem 
sicut prophetam 

intra ab ff de vt e vg qua re] + ergo h vg cred- 

itis b habebant a q habent b ff vg 

(xxi, 31) quis ex duobus fecit uoluntatem patris dicunt ei nouissimus 
dicit illi iesus 

^ patr. uol. a b nouissimus] primus q dixit a 
illis vt vg 

(xxi, 34-36) cum autem tempus fructum adpropinquasset misit 
(+ ad) seruos suos ad colonos ut acciperent de fructibus suis 
et coloni adprehensis seruis suis unum ceciderunt alium autem 
lapidauerunt tertium uero occiderunt iterum misit alios seruos 
plures prioribus et fecerunt eis similiter 

^ temp. aut. a 6 ^ adpropiasset temp, fruct. q suos 
om. ff colonos] agricolas vg acciperent 6 vg acciperet 
affqde fructibus] fructus vg suis 1] eius a vg et 
col.] col. autem ff agricolae vg suis 2om. vt -f 
eius vg unum] alium vg autem] uero ff om. q vg ^ 
occid . . . lapid. vg tertium] alium vtvg uero] autem a 
seruos om. q prioribus om. a eis] illis 
(xxi, 41) dixerunt ei malos male perdet et uineam locabit aliis 

colonis qui reddent ei fructus temporibus suis 

dixerunt] aiunt a 6 q vg dicunt ff illi vt vg malos 
om. ff perdent + eosff uineam] + suam 6 locauit vt 
aliis] illis ff reddant ff h vg ei om. ff fructus 6 ff 
fructum aq vg 



Harvard University 

The text of the Old-Georgian Gospels has engaged much of the 
writer's attention hi recent years. 1 While preparing a critical edi- 
tion of the version, certain general points have come to light, 
which appear to bear upon our comprehension of other oriental 
versions of the Scriptures. Georgian, like Syriac, has preserved 
for us an earlier and later form of the text; here, too, the older 
form is essentially complete. In these two idioms we can conse- 
quently grasp the translator's technique, as we cannot, for instance, 
in Armenian, where the extant mss. are regrettably homogeneous. 

These principles can best be brought home by commenting on 
certain specific passages hi the text. Accordingly, a set of in- 
stances has been chosen, which in all cases, in addition to purely 
philological interest, involve other and broader implications. 

The first series illustrates what might be called specialized or 
concrete translations. Here and there we find that the Greek text, 
when describing an action, uses a relatively simple, colorless ex- 
pression. The translators, on the contrary, inspired by the drama 
hi the story, or perhaps impelled to render a similar divergence hi 
their (non-Georgian or non-Armenian) archetype, replace, against 
the unanimous testimony of the Greek mss. and of the other ver- 
sions, this bald and platitudinous expression by some term at once 
pungent and specific. Such divagations are found hi the Georgian 
and Armenian versions, but are sufficiently uncommon to be con- 
sidered a phenomenon rather than a symptom. Marr termed 
these turns of speech 'Targum translations,' and thought that they 
belonged to the earliest Georgian stratum. 2 

a) In John 5, 7, when Jesus is talking to the paralytic at the 

1 Gospel of Mark, Patrologia Orientalis XX, fasc. 3 (Paris 1928); Gospel of 
Matthew, ibid. XXIV, fasc. 1 (Paris 1933); see also The Caesarean Text of Mark 
(Harvard Theological Review 21, 1928), pp. 286-314 and 358-375. 

2 9iMia;n3HHCKia OparMeax-b HpeBHe-rpyaHHCKott Bepcin Bexxaro SaB-BTa. In 
XpaciiaHCKitt BOCTOKB, vol. II, 1913, page 387. 



pool of Bethesda, the invalid answers the Lord: "Lord, no man 
have I, when the water eddies (rapaxdjj), who shall cast me into 
the pool (lit. 'plunge, bathing-place/ Ko\vn^Bpo.v). While I go 
thither, another will descend before me." 

As far as I can trace in the derivative versions, the word tyxonai 
is generally rendered by a verb meaning 'to go' or 'to walk,' but 
connoting no other shade of meaning. The later Georgian mss. 
read 3rvjoipospo mividodi (icK) hingehte (from Sot^isn mislvay), but 
the Adysh ms. contains the peculiar expression dn^-QoSgd^btpo 
mi-v-tonimanebdi t which was unknown to the author, and seemed 
to him to indicate a corruption in the text. Through the kindness 
of his old friend and former colleague, Professor A. G. Sanidze of 
the Georgian State University at Tiflis, 8 it became clear that this 
was not the case. Sanidze says: " 3n$o6$3s6o is a word still cur- 
rent today, but only in the form (3n&03jGo tortmani, which means 
'to drag one's self along, walk uncertainly, to stagger (from weak- 
ness or intoxication).' " In Latin this would be rendered titubam. 
The expression definitely suits in imagery and connotation the gait 
of a paralytic. 

The Georgian translator was inspired by a rendering which he 
undoubtedly found in his Armenian archetype, for it still survives 
in the extant Armenian mss. The Armenian uses the expression 
q.uitii}uuitnf dandayim. The word is employed in a number of places 

in the Armenian Scriptures, but carries the connotation, as far as 
I can see, of a slow, dragging walk. It is used in Acts 9, 38 for 
the Greek jui) ^ijo-jjs (Georgian text here reads: 6-3 3^0606). 

b) John 13, 5: At the scene of the Last Supper hi John, the 
Greek has: etra j3AXXt iJSwp is TOJ> mrrijpa. The Greek mss., as 
far as I can ascertain, show no variant for the word rum/pa, while 
the various versions employ expressions connoting either 'washing 
apparatus' (cf. G ab bsbiGj^n sabaneli) or, at most, 'basin.' The 
Adysh ms., however, uses at this point the concrete and special 
expression j>c*6jljb konk'sa, the Greek K&yxn 'shell.' The word 
a6ja korik'i, is familiar to me in Old Georgian hi the meaning 
'apse,' 4 but in this passage is apparently employed hi the more 

8 In a letter to the writer under date of March 14, 1935. 
4 E.g., in the (unpublished) text of the Passio XX Monachorum Sabbaitarum 
(Tiflis Ts. M. Ms. 95, f. 894b), konk'i. 


specific sense of 'shell/ to denote a shell-shaped water basin, holy 
water font or stoup. Here again the expression is taken over from 
the Armenian text, where we have in Zohrab's edition: nnqui mnhuii 
jm-p* uipli *|i Ijnaf , 'and thereupon having taken water he cast it 

into a shell' (konk'). These receptacles were a familiar feature of 
ancient buildings, 5 and, it would appear, had passed from Hellen- 
istic society into Jewish circles. 6 We find hi the Talmud and Mid- 
rash references to basins of this type, and my friend E. L. Sukenik 
has called my attention to the occurrence of this word hi Pales- 
tinian synagogal inscriptions. 7 

On the basis of the evidence presented above, in spite of the fact 
that the Evangelion da-Mepharreshe here reads &ai lekana, Greek 
\K&j>y, and the Peshitta I^atso meSagta, (lavacrum), we are inclined 
to surmise that at some point in the Syriac tradition a ms. (possibly 
the postulated Syriac text) 8 exhibited the reading IMJD in this in- 
stance. It must be admitted, however, that the Syriac evidence 
gathered hi Payne-Smith only attests the meaning 'apse.' (Payne- 
Smith, col. 3666.) 

The word Ijnfif , konk', occurs repeatedly in the Armenian Scrip- 
tures, but generally signifies 'apse.' One set of passages forms an 
exception to this the description of the oblations of the princes 
hi Numbers 7, 13 ff., where the TpvfiMov in the Greek text is con- 
sistently translated by Ii nfif , konk' in the Armenian. 

c) Mark 12, 1: Kai &pvfrv imoKiivvov. The Adysh ms. has for 
faroX^viov 0*34^)0' tagari,' which is the Armenian mui^um, 'takar,' 
'cask, vat' (q.v. Hiibschmann, Armenische Grammatik 1, 1, p. 257). 

6 See Daremberg et Saglio, Dictionnaire des antiquiMs grecques et romaines, 
vol. 1, p. 1431 (s. v. concha by E. Saglio). 

6 See J. Levy, Neuhebr&isches und chald&isches Worterbuch uber die Talmudim 
und Midraschim, etc., v. 4 (Leipzig, 1889), p. 267, s. v. 'D31p,NIV331p. The 
same passages are quoted, it would seem, by S. Krauss, 'Griechische und 
lateinische Lehnworter im Talmud, Midrasch und Targum mit Bemerkungen von 
Immanuel Low, Teil I-II, Berlin, 1898/9; T. U p 513. 

7 1 did not note at the time where the word occurred, and have been unable 
to run it down in the literature. The synagogue at Beth Alpha has an apse 
(see E. L. Sukenik, Ancient Synagogues in Palestine and Greece, Schweich Lectures, 
1930, p. 32), and his publication of this monument, The Ancient Synagogue at 
Beth Alpha, Jerusalem-Oxford, 1932. A basin is mentioned at 'Ain Duk (Sukenik, 
Ancient Synagogues, p. 75), but the word employed is different, 

8 See The Caesarean Text of Mark, p. 320 ff . 


The later Georgian mss. have b^Bgbuj-o sacnekheli, torrcular, 'wine- 
press.' In Sulkhan Orbeliani's lexicon tagari is defined as a 'pit, 
container for new wine/ with a reference to Haggai 2, 17. The 
text reads Oj>&opob bMp^ndn tkbilis sadgomi, but the new edition 
by Sanidze and Qipsidze has Qybo^ob tqbilis, which is a vox nihili. 

Actually the word is found hi the text of the Moscow Bible of 1743, 
hi Haggai 2,16, where it represents the Greek faoKiivvov. The 
Armenian at this point in Mark has H qavp hQdifmQ ihnpbuig , 'and 

a pit of a wine-press he dug.' The word hncman or hndzman is the 
regular expression hi Armenian for this engine. Takar is not used 
at all hi the Biblical text. Both Syriac versions have a word it^^o 
meaning merely 'wine-press,' and the Armenian expression looks 
like a clumsy attempt to translate the Greek literally. The ques- 
tion consequently arises, whether 1) the specialized meaning of 
'vat' or 'cistern' was current hi the area (Borcalo or Tao-Klardjet'ia) 
where the Georgian translation was made, or was Sulkhan Orbeliani 
familiar with the Armenian wording hi this passage; 9 2) Was the 
Greek text taken into account; 3) What did the later Georgians 
have in mind in replacing this word with the more ordinary ex- 

d) John 19. 40: Ka(W>s Ww iffrlv rots 'louSatow &ra0iAfew. For 
&ra0iAf eiv the Adysh ms. has q^^n^** dayucolay, a word which 

is not listed hi the lexica, but is obviously connected with the word 
Qi^r yuacli, &0Xw. The later Georgian mss. have <p*oj<^b5 
dap'lvasa, 'to bury.' Professor Sanidze, whose counsel I sought on 
this matter, knew of no speckle connotation connected with 
q??;)^r* A dayucolay, save that of 'carrying out an action.' 10 The 
question then arises as to whether the word implies specifically 
'laying out' or 'preparing a corpse,' or merely signifies 'carrying 
out a rite.' It is noteworthy that the Armenian text at this point 
gives iqiuuilri patel, involvere. The Syriac texts, though varying 
somewhat in form, all employ the same root, k-b-r-, which means 
definitely 'to bury, to put under the ground.' The Armenian trans- 

9 In this connection it is interesting to note that Sulkhan Orbeliani's lexicon, 
s. v. mena, says "A place, container; the Kakhetians call menatagar, which, too, 
is a place for sweet wine." 

10 We have the full vocalization in this word, just as in the alternative forms 
luromay: sromay. 


lator, it would seem, employed a descriptive expression referring 
to an element in the story, rather than the whole action. The 
scribe of the Adysh, or its archetype, was endeavoring to generalize 
somewhat, and used an expression which covers the course of the 
action rather than a specific section of it. 

e) In Matthew 26, 20 and Mark 14, 20, at the scene of the Last 
Supper, when Jesus says that "He who dippeth his hand into the 
platter shall betray me," all the Georgian mss. employ the word 
5n6yjl pinak'sa. This is the Greek word irlval-, 'tablet' or 'plate;' 

but hi this instance the Greek mss. have without exception the word 
Tpvp\lov, 'platter.' The Armenian has uliutuuiuulj skawarak. This 

word, perhaps of Persian origin (Hubschmann I, 1, p. 237), is also 
found in Syriac Jaaoa& (P.S> col. 2619). Neither of the Syriac 
versions has this here, but the word Ift^S legta, which is an abridged 
form of the Greek XexAvij. The Palestinian-Syriac here uses the 
word u>6ax&*9 discus. Uiva^ is used in Syriac in the forms JNoifl 
and fca*4 , but from Payne-Smith's examples I fail to see evidence 
for the sense of 'platter' in Syriac. 

In Matthew 14. 8, 11 and Mark 6. 25, 28, where Salome asks for 
the head of St. John on a platter, the Greek text has vivam, and 
both Syriac versions have the same expression. Here, however, 
the Armenian uses the word uljinJni 11 sktey, which is the Greek 

<m>t/r&Xa, <TKVT&\IJ, and the Georgian has ^S^s^a lanklay and 
lanknay. This word looks suspiciously like a dimmutive form of 
Lathi lanx. In Mk. 6,28 the later Georgian mss. have the Arme- 
nian word p'eSkhuemi B, but in A p'eSkhueni. 

A second group of expressions in the Georgian reflect, hi one 
form or another, theological points of view, sometimes quite 

John 13. 26, 27: fytafcgfysj-o lesasumeli, takes the place of the 

Greek ^wjulov, 'sop.' The word merely means 'drinking vessel' in 
Georgian. The later mss. all have $3 too puri, 'bread.' This read- 
ing can only have arisen in an attempt entirely to preclude the 
possibility that Jesus gave the Host to Judas. Later revisers, how- 
ever, saw that the account itself is clear on that point, and hence 
restored the simple original expression. The dogmatic implica- 
tions cannot be pressed too far, as replacing the Host by the chalice 

11 The nominative form is not attested; see Hubschmann, A.G. I, 2, p. 380. 


does not wholly obviate possible sacramental implications. The 
scene does, however, appear to be more susceptible of a natural 
than an allegorical interpretation when the sop is removed from 
the picture. 

Matthew 6. 9-13; Luke 11. 2-4: The word liru>i)(ru>v hi the Lord's 
Prayer is translated in the Adysh ins. by taBafoMpnljcaa samaradisoy, 
an adjective from 8ifo6qpob maradis (from 34ft)6jp(^)o1) marad.(y)is 
'always,' patterned after the Armenian huiQuiuiwqnpq. hanapazord, 
'daily,' which in turn harks back to the Syriac &** 'continuous, 

regular.' The later Georgian mss. give $fot)fa&ob*a arsobisay, sub- 

More complex, and, I admit, less certain in interpretation, is 
the peculiar expression, 3*^^(30 gadruc'i, in John 13. 29. The 
word appears in all the Georgian versions, which fact d priori 
implies that it is an ancient expression which yet remained familiar 
to the mediaeval Georgians. What its meaning is no one seems to 
know, and, as far as I am aware, it appears in none of the lexica, 
including that of Sulkhan Orbeliani. A. G. Sanidze pointed out 
to me 12 that Sulkhan Orbeliani adduces a related form tagrutfi 
(with metathesis of the first two consonants), which he defines as 
3*CF* 651)360 "bsojjfMo 'a high-built tomb;' this is not a 'barrow' (of 
a tomb), Sanidze thinks, but a 'reliquary.' This would fit in well 
with the general semantic connotations of the passage. 

The Georgian word is obviously not a native one, but I can find 
no possible equivalent in Armenian, where we should expect 
*^iuij.pnjg 'gadruic,' or *liuui.pnjg 'kadroic,' with epenthesis of the t 1 i. 

It represents the Greek ikwrffoKoptvov whose significance is more 
than hazy, but appears in Hellenistic times to mean a box equipped 
with a strap or thong. 18 The Syriac versions used a transliteration 
of the Greek term, and the Armenian translator certainly took it 
to mean 'box,' as the equivalent ^plii arkdy, (Latin arcula), 'chest,' 
shows. My colleague, Professor H. A. Wolfson, very acutely sug- 

12 In the letter cited above, p. 358. 

13 It is interesting that the word glossokomeion has been taken over into Georgian 
in the form luskuma orluskma. The word is quoted by Tchubinoff 2 with reference 
to IV Kings 27. 17. This term, it would appear, came in through the Arabic. 
It also appears in the form luskumi in the Georgian version of Barlaam and 
Joasaph (See N. Marr, Z. V. 0. 3 (1888), p. 239). 


gested that this word might be connected with the Syriac and 
Hebrew lip, 2a?e 'pot.' The word in Aramaic is pronounced 
qedra. Two diminutive forms are cited by Payne-Smith, both of 
them being from the lexica. They are qedurta, ie&qao and qidrutd, 
2<soM*0. We would have here, then, an interesting example of a 
word borrowed hi the diminutive form (like testadum) with the 
voicing of the guttural surd in Anlaut. It is a well known fact 
that the 4 in 2^0 W as softened, and in some cases (as in mediaeval 
Hebrew) came to be pronounced as ts. This would yield g c' in 
Armenian. 14 

Whether the etymology given above is correct is a question, but 
certainly d priori considerations enter in here which are relevant. 
First of all, we are dealing with a receptacle (closed or open), which 
contained money. This by the nature of things could be, a) a box; 
b) a purse or wallet; c) a bowl. It is also evident that if c) is 
adopted, we move into an earlier and more primitive sphere, where 
the concept of the Twelve involved what to the oriental mind was 
the chief duty of the disciple that of begging for his master for 
the gadruc'i could only be the begging bowl. 

It is not my purpose to gather together here a full series of 
errors and peculiarities hi the Georgian which have to be ascribed 
to a misunderstood Armenian original. Mistakes are relatively 
rare, especially hi the Gospels, where continued, unremitting litur- 
gical use tended to iron out any such divagations, and consequently 
such cases as we find are confined to the older text, i.e., to the 

Adysh ms. Thus, Mt. 14, 1 fiafocafoaqpba C'ororodsa for Tfrpapxos 
is perhaps a misunderstood Armenian ^nppnp^ c'orrord, fourth, or 
derived from a corrupted form of it, as the Georgian translator 
must needs have comprehended the Armenian numeral npf 6'or/b' 
four. The expression hmuiuujurfiuiiLiii.g hatavaSarac' (John 2, 15 : cf . 
Mt. 21, 12) 'money changers' becomes oigt>?"ol> 3aojifoipi)^<n4A /seed 
sellers' in the Georgian, and has been commented on elsewhere. 16 

14 The whole question of the transcriptions of sibilants in loan words current 
in Armenian and Georgian needs a careful re-examination. Why 'Tyre' should 
be 'Cor' in the older Georgian mss. and in Armenian, is not merely answered by 
the fact that it is a transcription of the Syriac Sor. The real problem is why 
the unvoiced explosive was taken to represent the emphatic sin, just as in Mcvin, 
Nisibis. Why, however, do we have ek&yec'i in Armenian for Greek ekklesial 

18 The Caesarean Text of Mark, p. 295. 


Such lapses, however, are not the most significant criteria for deter- 
mining the original language whence the version was made. More 
interesting are certain expressions which might be called familiar 
The Armenian words liimmuplq and Ijmnnplri are much alike hi 

form, but not in meaning. Katarel means to 'finish, complete, 
achieve/ but kotorel is 'to destroy' or 'to demolish.' These words 
were stumbling-blocks for the Georgian translators, who were con- 
tinually confusing them. Thus Mt. 2, 15 we have 3<P&Q 
6$l>flnrj(j0&4<p8ip3 S.Qfojp#bta 'until the finish (i.e., death) of Herod', 
and the same expression occurs in Mt. 2, 19 fo&a^abi i^QljAvjjs"* 
i jfottsp;), 'when Herod met his end'. 

Another potent source of error was the close likeness between 
EBllbBimf enkenum 'I throw, cast' and mfiljuiaiiif ankanim 'I fall,' as 

the following examples show. In Mt. 4, 6 Satan says to Jesus hi 
the Adysh and Opiza mss. jj&fo$p^pfoipo 'fall down,' but the Tbet' 

ms., which reflects more closely the Greek, has 3 i ^iP* ft 3JpJ 'cast 
thyself down.' So, too, in Mark 11, 23, referring to the mountain 
in the simile, AB have Dwaafoipo 'fall,' while the Adysh reads 

The ordinary Armenian expression for 'other,' alius, is mji ayl t 
but for 'another,' alter, the word tfpi-u mius was employed. This 
hi form and pronunciation coincided or nearly so with the oblique 
cases of Jp 'one.' This explains the presence of such phrases as 
Mt. 12, 13 ^Bfldflbc 1 ^ 335:0 jo<n>^> Qfoowr oy>. 'The hand recov- 
ered like the one' : Mt. 21, 29, 3<vjoip* Qfocoobi 3nl>, 'he came to the 
one.' Cf. also John 19, 32, jjfyfl* Qfocnfo 3$1> , 'also to the one.' 

In Georgian we have a regular expression BgbQCMi Sekhebay mean- 
ing 'to touch,' but the form used is the causative: <lp\>n Seakho 

(cf. Mark, 5, 27) means 'he caused himself to touch him.' The 
simple stem is not intransitive in meaning in Georgian. This 
queer phrase arises from the Armenian ifbpduigni.giufibif merdzac'uc'- 

anem, a causative formation from the adverb ifbpA merdz 'near.' 
This is no native Armenian expression, but is modelled on the 
Syriac aaa, the pa'el form of aa which in Syriac means 'to touch.' 
vayiw 'early' is not infrequently confused by Georgian 


translators with ilui^uiquiliti vayvayaki 'swiftly,' and also vice 
versa. Mt. 28, 7, *{$>tog ^Afcjjjjpno) 'go early'; Mt. 28, 7, ^^3 aqpfy 
'early early' i.q. 'very early,' but the text can only mean 'very 
swiftly.' The reduplication is an attempt to imitate that in the 
word vayvayaki. Cf. also John 19, 34, *q?fog A <P^3 'quickly.' 

Not infrequently we find hi Georgian that the verb $$&&*&/ 
(5^3*4 dgomay/dgmay 'to stand' is employed in the sense of 'to pos- 

sess,' usually in the reflexive aspect. This is an Armenian idiom, as 
kal in Armenian means both 'to stand' and 'to have' or 'to possess.' 
Thus we find Mt. 12, 11 &a3^ ta 3^t) flbrvjifoo ^fnmn 'who has (lit. 

to whom is standing) a sheep': Mt. 13, 46 3^33^ A**fl 3$?3, 
'all whatsoever he had'. 

It has seemed worth while to draw up the preceding list of mis- 
translations, even though the main thesis they support is now 
generally recognized by New Testament scholars, namely, that the 
Old Georgian Scriptures were translated from the Armenian, but 
as they are all words of frequent occurrence, they are of value in 
determining the provenance of non-biblical texts. 


Brown University 

While working on the manuscripts in the library of the Badia 
di Santa Maria di Grottaferrata, hi the summer of 1936, I found 
hi some of them a cipher which was apparently unintelligible to 
A. Rocchi, the author of the catalogue, who merely transcribed 
these notes. It is probable that this cipher has been noted and 
interpreted by some of the students who have -worked on these 
manuscripts, but I have not myself found any references to it. 
Unfortunately I was unable to obtain photographs of the manu- 
scripts in Grottaferrata which contained it, though I hope 
within the next few months to do so, but on looking over the nega- 
tives of dated manuscripts which I had taken hi Russia the previous 
winter I found another example of the "Grottaferrata cipher." 
This I reproduce on Plate I. 

As will be seen on the photograph of f. 169 r., the scribe was evi- 
dently much interested hi ciphers though, as usual, there seems no 
reason why the facts which he chooses to obscure hi this manner 
should not have been given hi plain Greek. About half-way down 
the column the scribe's name is written hi uncial in the usual 
transpositional cryptogram: 


M i\ X a i? X 

s A N e v AB 

fi o v a x ff 

At the bottom of the column, hi the same cipher 1 but in minus- 
cule, is : 

x The scribble at the top of the next column, in the same form of cipher, but 
an obviously later hand, reads 

= qcoam ajuaproXco 


Between these statements are two further cryptograms, of which 
the lower is in the "Grottaferrata cipher." The key to this is 
arithmetical. Each letter is to be given its numerical value and 
to decipher the cryptogram each group of characters included under 
one set of lines is to be added together, the sum being the letter 

Thus, Leningrad 71 reads at this point: 

KK = 20 + 20 = 40 = M 
|3jS = 2- + 2 = 4 = 
TT = 300 + 300 = 600 = x 

P-P- ~ ^ ~J~ 2^ 1 a 
|3j8= 2 + 2 =4 = 
IK = 10+20 - 30 = A 

KK = 20+20 = 40 = M 
AM = 30 + 40 = 70 = o 
K\ = 20+30 = 50 = v 

TT = 300 + 300 = 600 = x 

A/* = 30+40 = 70 = o 

pp = 100 + 100 = 200 = fl- 
it is interesting that ]8j3 appears twice for rj when_it actually 
means S. The normal sign here would have been 58, and it is 
clear from the preceding cryptogram that the author intended r/ 
to be read in the first syllable as well as in the last. 

Another example of this cipher differs in some respects. In one, 
of the manuscripts in Grottaferrata is the following: 

,,KKd8M K e | + 20 + 20 4+4 25+25 
l=a 40 = M 8=77 50 = v 

This scribe uses where the first has ftp: and he also prefers a 
symmetrical arrangement of each group of letters. For example, 
he indicates v (50) by MM, where the other scribe has K\ for the 
same sum and AM for o (70). 




Between these statements are two further cryptograms, of which 
the lower is in the "Grottaferrata cipher." The key to this is 
arithmetical. Each letter is to be given its numerical value and 
to decipher the cryptogram each group of characters included under 
one set of lines is to be added together, the sum being the letter 

Thus, Leningrad 71 reads at this point: 

KK = 20+20 = 40 = n 

PP = 2 + 2 = 4 = [r/]5 

TT = 300 + 300 = 600 = x 

W l+| = 1 = a 

#8 = 2 + 2 = 4 = M5 

IK = 10 + 20 = 30 = X 

KK = 20 + 20 = 40 = M 
X/i = 30 + 40 = 70 = o 
/cX = 20+30 = 50 = v 
9-9* ~ ~2 + 2 = 1 = a 
TT = 300 + 300 = 600 = x 
X/z = 30+40 = 70 = o 
pp = 100 + 100 = 200 = fl- 
it is interesting that /3j3 appears twice for 17 when it actually 

means 8. The normal sign here would have been 55, and it is 
clear from the preceding cryptogram that the author intended i? 
to be read in the first syllable as well as in the last. 

Another example of this cipher differs in some respects. In one, 
of the manuscripts in Grottaferrata is the following: 

,,/cK55/cc/ce I + \ 20+20 4+4 25+25 
l=o 40 = M 8=77 50=i' 

This scribe uses where the first has ftps: and he also prefers a 

symmetrical arrangement of each group of letters. For example, 
he indicates v (50) by KeKe, where the other scribe has cX for the 
same sum and Xju for o (70). 


&'&* f:^i$m*m 





LENINGRAD, State Public Library 
Cod. 73 


,.,-r'*~"~'hr " 

"',-.' .- " " 


4, m 

- /if '- ' 


Cod. 73 


One line in Leningrad 71, between the two different cryptograms 
of /ijjxaTjX novaxoff, remains unexplained. It has been suggested 
that this is a third, abbreviated, form of the same name, each of 
the two words being expressed in three oddly shaped letters. 
Though I confess that I have no better suggestion this does not 
entirely convince me, and if the triple repeated letters in the lower 
right are more than idle scribble I have not penetrated their secret. 

On Plate II I have reproduced another baffling puzzle. Clearly 
the lines in the right-hand column have some meaning and that 
meaning is expressed in mathematical terms. Possibly it is an exer- 
cise hi arithmetic, in which case it has no place here, but I have 
been unable to decipher it as such. On the other hand, I have also 
been unable to decipher it hi any other way. 

In conclusion, it seems probable that the cipher explained above 
originated in Italy. Leningrad 71 has all the characteristics usually 
claimed as Italian and the manuscripts in Grottaferrata which con- 
tain it were certainly written hi Italy. Moreover, as yet I know it 
only in eleventh century manuscripts. The evidence is too slight 
for certainty, but it may be that this particular form of cryptogram 
was characteristic of some one South Italian monastery in the 
eleventh, or eleventh and twelfth centuries. 


50 707 20! 

Jan 6 s 4j3- 


Pe 28 

gel 7^ 

x-, -. f , 

I : ^._ y*. 



50 707 203