Skip to main content

Full text of "The Expositor"

See other formats

This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 
to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 
to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 
are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 
publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 

We also ask that you: 

+ Make non- commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at jhttp : //books . qooqle . com/ 

.El 6 





$ist flf Contributors ta Volume IX. 

Rev. Prof. Joseph Agar Beet. 

Rev. Prof. A. B. Bruce, D.D. 

Very Rev. G. A. Chadwick, D.D. 

Rev. P. H. Chase, M.A. 

Rev. Prof. T. K. Cheyne, D.D. 

Rev. Prof. S. Ives Curtiss, D.D., Ph.D. 

Rev. Prof. A. B. Davidson, D.D., LL.D. 

Rev. Prof. Franz Delitzsch, D.D. 

Rev. Marcus Dods, D.D. 

Rev. Prof. S. R. Driver, D.D. 

Ven. Archdeacon P. W f Farrar, D.D., F.R.S. 

Rev. Prof. G. G. Findlay, B.A. 

Josiah Gilbert. 

Rev. Augustus Jessopp, D.D. 

Rev. Ed. G. Kiit,tB?D. T 

Ds tt . , D 

EPt .^ E P . /fotD.IvB^jRADt Pj^ , -y 

i s p n .DtL P * %V»r D P r Dg.ehs 


fi •■, 



* \ 







!Mtttttt IX. 


Jonbon : 




X c 

X H 


Butler & Tanner, 

The Selwood Printing Works, 

Frome, and London. 


In many respects the last nine chapters of Ezekiel (xl.- 
xlviii.) stand alone in Scripture for their striking peculiarity. 1 
Let us first (1) epitomise their contents, and then touch on 
the two chief problems which they suggest ; namely, (2) For 
what object were they written? and (3) In what relation 
do they stand to the whole system of Levitical legislation ? 

I- They are entirely unlike the rest of the prophet's writ- 
ings. Those writings, which were doubtless edited in their 
complete form towards the close of his life, fall into four 
parts. (1) The first twenty-four chapters, after describing 
the call and commission of Ezekiel, dwell on the approach- 
ing ruin of Judah and Jerusalem, as a consequence of the 
iniquities of the people. With the exception of the judg- 
ment pronounced upon the Ammonites in xxi. 28-32, they 
describe the doom which hung over the Israel of the past, 
a doom which approached ever nearer and nearer as the 
prophecies advanced. Jerusalem, then as in the days of 
Christ, knew not the day of her visitation, and she was 
overwhelmed by that final catastrophe which ended, for 
ever a great epoch of Jewish history. (2) Turning from 
the fortunes of Judah, Ezekiel, in chapters xxv. to xxxii., 
utters a series of prophecies against seven surrounding 
heathen nations. (3) The next seven chapters (xxxiii.- 
xxxix.) deal mainly with the future triumph and restoration 
of Israel and God's judgment upon her enemies. That this 
is the general idea of the whole final section is obvious, 

1 " Occnpatus in explanations Templi Ezecliielis quod opus in omnibus Scrip* 
talis Sanctis vel difficUlimum est." — Jerome, Ep. oxxx. 2. 

VOL. IX. * I 



and richly supported Temple, a sacerdotal government, a 
God-fearing nation. The increase and enlightenment of the 
restored tribes is symbolized by the vision of the waters 
(xlvii. 1-12), of .which an English poet has rightly seen the 

" East the forefront of habitations holy 
Gleamed to En-gedi, shone to Eneglaim ; 
Softly thereout and from thereunder slowly 
Wandered the waters, and delayed, and came. 

Even with so soft a surge and an increasing, 
Drunk of the sand, and thwarted of the sod, 

Stilled, and astir, and checked, and never-ceasing, 
Spreadeth the great wave of the grace of God." 

Of these remarkable chapters — remarkable even in their 
prosaic minuteness and mathematical regularity — the first 
four (xl.-xliii.) furnish the architectural design and measure- 
ments of the Temple, its gates, porch, chambers, . orna- 
ments, and a description of the altar with its ordinances. 
The next three (xliv.-xlvi.) describe the relations of the 
Prince, the Priests, the Levites, and the people to the 
Temple and its worship. The last two give the vision of 
the waters, and describe the position of the Temple and the 
Temple city, and the distribution of the land among the 
twelve tribes, with the portions assigned to the Prince, 
the Priests, the Levites, and the maintenance of the sacred 

What are we to think of these chapters, which, as a 
whole, are less read, and, with the exception of one or two 
paragraphs, seem less obviously profitable, than almost any 
part of the Bible? 1 

Are they literal or purely ideal ? In other words, did 
Ezekiel really intend that his visionary sketch should be 

1 The difficulties presented by these chapters are by no means modern. 
Jerome says, "Principia et finem (Ezechiel) tantis habet obscuritatibus involuta 
ut apud Hebneos istte partes ante annos triginta non legantur." — Ep. liii. 7. 


sealed to her by a higher than scientific authority. This 
is the practical problem towards the solution of which I 
would gladly lend my aid. 

For thankful recognition such endeavour must look to 
comparatively few among contemporaries, because the 
majority of Christian believers will regard as invalid, or 
certainly as doubtful, the supposition from which it starts ; 
though now-a-days scarcely any one questions that even the 
flood of rationalism from which the Church emerged vic- 
torious, left her fertilized by- a sediment of knowledge. 
That, by such endeavour, one should earn but paltry thanks 
in the camp of his opponents, lies in the nature of the case. 
If we seek to unite what in the accepted views of modern 
criticism, appears to demand recognition, with that which 
is inalienable in our faith, we incur the reproach of an 
inconsistency which stops halfway, and are likely to bear 
the ridicule cast upon old clothes adorned with new patches. 
But this should not deter nor astonish us. Not deter : for 
when we consider how Sender's rationalism and Schleier- 
macher's entire reconstruction of theology have contributed 
to the advance of Church theology, we may find therein 
a guarantee that the latter will also be able gradually to 
assimilate the elements of truth contained in the present 
chaos. And it should not astonish us that those on the 
other side look down on us in their superiority. No pro- 
cess of assimilation will bring us materially nearer each 
other, for between old and new theology lies a deep gulf, 
which the former must cross to win the thanks of the 
latter; and this it cannot do, without approaching that 
sin for which there is no forgiveness in this world or the 


There is a unifying tendency native to the'soul of man, 
by which his thought, speech, and effort after knowledge 


the restoration of oar communion with God ; and grace is 
the name of God's action for us and to us, the purpose of 
which is to free us from the consciousness of guilt and from 
the ban of sin-service. The work of God's grace in Christ, 
aiming as it does at our deliverance, at the breaking of our 
bonds, at our salvation, is a supernatural work; and he 
who submits himself to this can in his own experience 
distinguish the supernatural workings of grace from the 
workings of his natural powers and impulses. It is a 
very important matter, says Philip Jacob Spener, in begin- 
ning his treatise on Nature and Grace (1687), which he as 
chief court preacher in Dresden dedicated to the clergy 
of Saxony, — it is a very important matter, to which much 

rtains for the exert iwr . fs rtan£hris4ia»ifci amd the know- 
B gr a r e 


ei i 8 n 


carnal life, in which is rooted his natural existence, still 
continues, and never ceases to throw evil shadows on his 
spiritual life ; while this spiritual life is a planting of grace, 
which has removed him from the law of nature, and set 
him in a sphere of life exalted above it, and is thus a 
working of God supra naturam because contra naturam. 
For, as the apostle says in chap. viii. 2, " The law of the 
Spirit, which quickens us in Christ Jesus, hath made me 
free from the law of sin and death." " I live," he can say 
in Galatians ii. 20 ; " yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." 
The division between nature and grace reaches thus to 
the centre of his being. His natural I is enthralled under 
the curse of the law ; but Christ is his righteousness, in 
Him he has obtained a new I, which knows itself as free 
from the law and just before God. No one has more 
profoundly grasped this truth, or more powerfully attested 
it, than Luther in his memorable exposition of the Epistle 
to the Galatians. There is, he there affirms, a righteousness 
which belongs to the earthly, and a righteousness which 
belongs to the heavenly world; a righteousness of the 
law, which is an affair of earth and of our own action, 
and a righteousness which we, without our action, must 
receive from heaven, the righteousness of Christ, which is 
ours when we become by faith so united to Him, that He 
ab o ef ga 

fa£ *hta ro uitP P 

e hba fn 

nd ■ cna A •* hat nLdB«iWfe onm b^s&*ns> ^^ st 


imaginary? The new theology must pronounce such a 
judgment. We however rule it to be incompetent, see- 
ing that it starts from preconceptions which render it 
incapable of experiences such as those of a Paul or a 
Luther. A theologian who denies that sinfulness is the 
inheritance of man from his birth, that man by nature 
is a child of wrath, and has to confess himself a sinner 
worthy of condemnation ; who denies that Christ by sub- 
stitutionary work and suffering has satisfied the righteous- 
ness or the wrath of God, and made for the love of God 
an open path ; who denies that we can enter into a direct 
real relation of communion with God and the risen Christ, 
—such a theologian has by these preconceptions rendered 
himself from the outset unable to experience and person- 
ally to test the work of grace in his soul. 

But these assertions — it will be objected — are in truth no 
preconceptions. On the contrary, they are conclusions based 
on observation of our religious life and experience. So then 
experience stands opposed to experience. In our opinion, 
that is only a very superficial introspection which fails to 
see that our inborn nature is one sundered from God and 
penetrated to its most secret folds with defects and sinful 
impulses ; so that we must accuse ourselves before a holy 
God as having earned His punishment in time and eternity, 
and praise with thankfulness that decree of Divine love, 
which appointed Christ to work out for us by His crucifixion 
and ascension the forgiveness of sins and a new beginning 
of life, and which thus made it possible for sinners worthy 
c of c 80 * n to g bec$g|e b nfaith the el $Sd f 

n e 

nh , o c ys 

hvh d loc 

c n r 


is in opposition to the promise of the Lord, " He who 
loveth Me will keep My word, and My Father will love him, 
and We will come to him and dwell with him " (John xiv. 
23) ; in opposition to the testimony of believers of the new- 
covenant since the time of the apostles ; in opposition also 
to psalmists and prophets. It is not in agreement with . 
historical Christianity to refer redemption and salvation 
directly to the community and only indirectly to the 
individual. The relations are ever found to be reversed. 
It is individuals who, with a sense of merited condemnation, 
desire to be made whole, and who grasp with faith the 
offered grace of God in Christ, that form the community of 
the saved — the unseen beginning of a kingdom of God, of 
a commonwealth, that is, heavenly in origin and nature, 
whose essence is living communion with God in Christ, and 
which starts from this centre in its work of subduing the 
world and moulding earth after the likeness of heaven. 

There is no biblical conception which, as treated by this 
new theology, does not lose in depth and in fulness of con- 
tents. True, the kingdom of God is explained to be super- 
natural and supramundane : but only supernatural in so far 
s oit sur gsges thegiatuij|[fo:foj§ji§ of societ marria 

„ dPtST m 

•>j t ens an l e a ti ic 


formation knows that he owes it to the supernatural inter- 
ference of the rescuing hand of God, and feels himself placed 
in a new world, in contrast with which his earlier existence 
appears like the groping of a blind man or the lethargy of 
one more dead than alive. This new birth, which is 
accomplished within the realm of Divine grace by way of 
repentance and faith, together with the workings of grace 
by which it is brought to pass and maintained, does not in 
the new theology receive its due. Even as the closest living 
union with God and the risen Saviour is rejected as mystical, 
this process of conversion is considered pietistic. Though 
I differed on many points with the late Ferdinand Walther, 
together with whom I passed through the throes and 
raptures of the new spiritual birth, on one point we remained 
ever agreed— that the condition of the true Christian is a 
supernatural one, seeing that it has its root in the new 
birth which he has experienced. This condition is want- 
ing in the new theology. Apart from its rejection of the 
so-called metaphysical element, to which it denies any 
practical significance, the new school speaks with regard to 
the actual facts of experience a language of moral shallow- 
ness foreign to the Christian and the theologian of the old 
stock. The difference between nature and grace is here 
toned down and washed out, and that makes the deep gulf 
which divides us. 


That the Christianity of the new theology is not that 
recorded in history is further evident from this, that in 
identifying grace with nature, it at the same time denies 
the reality of miracles. For miracle has grace as its 
ground, purpose, and province. The supernatural influ- 
ences of God on man, which produce in him the new 
spiritual life, issue from the decree of grace which aims at 
man's salvation ; and the supernatural interference of God 

VOL. IX. 4 


in external events only subserves the realization of this 
decree. Between those redemptive operations of grace and 
these historical miracles lie the miraculous gifts of the 
Spirit, especially the gift of prophecy, which lifts the 
receiver above the restrictions of nature. In every such 
gift is manifest the free activity of God, which breaks 
through the natural chain of causation to fulfil moral 
purposes connected with the decree of His saving grace. 
The new theology however recognises no interruption of 
the course of natural law, under a Divine direction indepen- 
dent of nature. It reduces the miracle to nature; more 
specially to a natural phenomenon, with which, according 
to the usual definition, there is connected the experience 
of a particularly helpful providence. This is not a different 
gulf from that already mentioned ; but how deep the gulf 
is, we now rightly apprehend for the first time ! 

For here it is plain, that the difference between old and 
new theology coincides at bottom with the difference 
between the two conceptions of the world, which are at 
present more harshly opposed than ever before. The 
modern view of the world declares the miracle to be un- 
thinkable, and thus excluded from the historical mode of 
treatment ; for there is only the one world-system, that 
of natural law, with whose permanence the direct, extra- 
ordinary interferences of God are irreconcilable. The 
opposite view, on the other hand, does not content itself 
with regarding the miracle as possible ; it regards this as 
absolutely necessary, for it distinguishes two world-systems, 
that of natural law and that of morals, both of which, since 
there are men and so history, act and react on one another ; 
inasmuch as. the relation of God to free beings brings this 
in its train, that interferences take place in the course of 
nature which make it subserve moral ends. This is the 
Christian, the biblical, and, as we may venture to assert, 
the religious conception of the world, for it is the presup* 


position of all historical religions : whereas the other view 
is a doctrine of philosophy and natural science, which would 
fain be recognised as a practical religion, but which never 
will, inasmuch 'as it surrenders inalienable ground-principles 
of religion in denying living intercourse with the Godhead, 
and, in order to hold intact the inviolability of the chain of 
causation found in natural law, is compelled to abandon 
the freedom both of man and of God. 

The restricting of God to the course of nature has for 
its result that we must deny to all prayer, alike of entreaty 
and intercession, any effect on external events mediated by 
response to prayer. Heinrich Lang, in a work with the 
title, Religion in the Time of Darwin (1874), handles this 
subject in a way to make one shudder, when he quotes 
Psalm xci., and then says; that the comfort of this psalm is 
due to a way of thinking which has been discredited ; that 
no prayer or blessing which accompanies the son on his 
way to battle can avail to check or turn aside the fatal ball. 
As if there were not accredited answers to prayer, like the 
intercession of Luther for Melanchthon and Myconius ! And 
as if each faithful petitioner could not, from his own ex- 
perience, substantiate the psalmist's words (lxvi. 3), " Thou 
hearest prayer, therefore cometh all fleslj to Thee " ! All 
flesh — for everywhere in the world of men where prayer is 
offered, this is done in the certainty that prayer has effect 
on God and can call forth active help in return. There is 
more reason in the consensus gentium than in the doctrines 
of isolated thinkers, even be they so great as Schleiermacher 
and Eitschl. We can refute the testimony of the soul on 
paper, but it is impossible permanently to suppress its 
reaction in our inmost nature. 


But not alone do the life of prayer and, In general, the 
religious life receive from this restricting of God to the 


course of nature a character different from that hitherto 
found among men. Even faith in the Easter message 
begins to waver. Our greeting on Easter Day loses heart. 
The " He is risen ! " which rings through the New Testa- 
ment like the blast of the trumpet of victory, becomes less 
probable than the allegation of the Jews, " His disciples 
stole Him." For if God cannot make the course of nature 
subservient to higher ends, and, as a creator, in special 
circumstances interfere with the created order of nature, 
then is the re-awakening of Christ no historical fact ; His 
work lacks the Divine seal; and Paul himself says, in 1 
Corinthians xv. 4, that if the resurrection fails, Christianity 
ceases to exist as a religion of redemption, and can no more 
deliver the human consciousness and life from the ban of 
sin and death. The disciples of the new theology recognise 
the resurrection as a fact in the consciousness of the early 
Church, but towards it as a fact of history they remain 
cold and reserved. In their system, this is not the centre, 
but merely a dim point in the periphery. Logical con- 
sistency on their part would cause it to vanish altogether. 

With melancholy frankness did Alexander Schweizer, 
who died on the third of July last, put this question in 

omkindl raffifce f m ,, * i h anKfeuead inathcer mc 

an ereeiser rempe semT ahh n wc c 


miracle will also find it not improbable tbat this is the 
conclusion of miraculous premisses and brings miraculous 
results in its train. The decree of grace which attains in 
the resurrection of Christ the centre and summit of its 
realization fulfils itself in miracles. In most cases, indeed, 
is the government of God like the waters of Siloah, that go 
softly ; the visible miracles of history are only those flashes 
from the supernatural activity of God which serve rare and 
exceptional ends. But the whole work of grace, whether 
in the experience of individuals or in the history of man- 
kind, even where it is hidden, is supernatural and therefore 
miraculous ; because, in the midst of this world lying under 
the law of sin and death, it aims at establishing a world of 
righteousness and glory. 

When the one conception of the world is thus presented 
from the standpoint of the other, the mode of statement 
unavoidably partakes of the nature of a polemic. The 

s ecial ur ose however with which I entered on m r 

a s t 

8 e s. 1 

. e 

no . dro 4r .ars ^n 


in the raising of the Redeemer from the dead? — to this 
fundamental question, however we may seek to evade it, 
the answer can only be yes or no. The deep golf remains ; 
it will remain to the end of time. No effort of thought can 
fill it up. There is no synthesis to bridge this thesis and 
antithesis. Never shall we be able, by means of reason's 
evidence or the witness of history, to convince those who 
reject this truth. But this do we claim for ourselves, that 
prophets and apostles and the Lord Himself stand upon our 
side ; this we claim, that while the others use the treasures 
of God's word eclectically, we take our stand upon the 
whole, undivided truth. 

True, there is a zone to a certain extent neutral, that, 
namely, of historico-critical and particularly of literary- 
critical investigation ; but here also the distinction of stand- 
point manifests itself in estimating tradition, weighing 
evidences, and measuring degrees of certainty. And it is 
a most disheartening sign of the times, that even such as 
in theory acknowledge the miracle, in practice really reckon 
on naturalistic assumptions. The theologia gloria, which 
prides itself on being its own highest authority, bewitches 
even those who appeared proof against its enchantments ; 
and the theologia cruris, which holds Divine folly to be wiser 
than men, is regarded as an unscientific lagging behind the 
steps of progress. But the subjectivity of science finds a 
wholesome check in the office of preacher and guardian of 
souls. Only those of little faith can fancy that such science 
asthi| whih,wi lftBTfolni^; fe 8 ^ 6 <f R h Bcfffc/flfcff 


and Burger ; still to me is the reality of miracles sealed 
by the miracles of grace which I saw with my own eyes 
in the congregations of this blessed valley. And the 
faith which I professed in my first sermons, which I could 
maintain in Niederfrohna and Lunzenau, remains mine 
to-day, undiminished in strength, and immeasurably higher 
than all earthly knowledge. Even if in many biblical 
questions I have to oppose the traditional opinion, certainly 
my opposition remains on this side of the gulf, on the side 
of the theology of the Cross, of grace, of miracles, in har- 
mony with the good confession of our Lutheran Church. 
By this banner let us stand ; folding ourselves in it, let 
us die. 

Franz Delitzsch. 


The writer of this brief article must at the outset distinctly 
disclaim all title to criticise Dr. Cheyne's books, and he 
has not sought to inform himself of any facts in his life that 
are not matter of common knowledge. His object is simply 
to illustrate the nature of Professor Cheyne's work for 
sound biblical study in this generation by a sketch of the 
attitude which the Church of England, as represented by 
her authorized teachers, has assumed towards the question 
of inspiration and the criticism of the Old Testament. The 
statement is intended to be purely historical. 

The importance and significance of German criticism was 
first clearly recognised in the Church of England by Hugh 
James Rose, whom Dean Burgon has described as " the 
Restorer of the Old Path." Rose, after spending some time 
in Germany, in 1824, returned home alarmed and shocked. 
In May, 1825, he was select preacher at Cambridge, and 


delivered discourses en the state cf the Pr::estant Religion 
in Germany, which were hear! ar.d re-id with interest and 
concern. Strangely ensazh, Dr. P^sey replied on behalf of 
Germany. The matter is so important, and it has been so 
slorred over and misrepresented by Dean Burgon in his 
Lives of Twelve Goc^/ Men, 1 that it most be treated with 
some fulness. 

Dr. Posey's Historical Inquiry into the probable Cause* of 
the Rationalist Character lately Predominant in the Theology 
of Germavy appeared before his appointment to the pro- 
fessorship of Hebrew in Oxford. The drift of the book is 
that rationalism is doe to the absurdly excessive claims of 
orthodoxy. To quote : " False ideas of inspiration, intro- 
duced by the imaginary necessities of the argument with the 
Romanists, contributed to the same result. From the first 
assumption, that the whole of Scripture was immediately 
dictated by the Holy Spirit, was derived a second, that all 
must be of equal value ; to prove this it was supposed that 
the same doctrines, the same fundamental truths in Chris- 
tianity, must be not implied but expressed by all, a theory 
which must of necessity do much violence to the sacred text, 
while it overlooked the beautiful arrangement, according to 
which the different doctrines of revelation are each promi- 
nently conveyed by that mind which was most adapted to 
its reception Hove by St. John ; faith by St. Paul ; hope by 
St. Peter ; faith developed in works by St. James), and thus 
the highest illuminations of inspired minds, each in the 
fullest degree of which it was capable, are combined to con- 
vey to us the vast complex of Scripture truth. Yet greater 

1 Vol. i. t p. 134. — Experience has >hown the writer that in reading Bean 
Bnrgon's biographies it is especially necessary t<> " verify your references.'" 
After the testimonies borne to Dean Bargon by those who knew him, it is 
impossible to doabt hi* good faith; nevertheless his statements are to be 
received with the utmost caution. The fact that the history of the Oxford 
movement has been as yet written only by men who were more or less parti- 
sans, makes it imperative for those who wish to understand it to go back to the 
pamphlets and magazines of the time. 


confusion must obviously be the result of the same theory 
when applied to the Old Testament. The difference of the 
Law and the Gospel, which hitherto had been so vividly seen, 
was obstructed, the shadow identified with the substance, 
the preparatory system with the perfect disclosure. Not 
content with finding the germs of Christian doctrine in the 
Old Testament, or those dawning rays which were to pre- 
pare the mental eye for the gradual reception of fuller light, 
but whose entire character could only be understood by those 
whose approach they announced, they not only considered 
prophecy as being throughout inverted history, but held 
that all the distinguishing doctrines of Christianity were 
even to the Jews as much revealed in the Old Testament 
as in the New, and that the knowledge of the doctrines 
was as necessary to their salvation as to ours. . . . 
Less important, lastly, though perhaps in its effects more 
immediately dangerous, was the corollary to the same theory 
of inspiration, that even historical passages were equally 
inspired with the rest, and consequently that no error, 
however minute, could even here be admitted. Yet the 
imparting of religious truth being the object of revelation, 
any further extension of inspiration would appear as an un- 
necessary miracle, as indeed it is one nowhere claimed by 
the readers of the New Testament.' ' Pusey goes on to say 
that this "palpable perversion of the doctrine of inspiration" 
prepared the way for the indiscriminate rejection of the 
doctrine itself, and that Scripture as a result of it was 
not expounded even in the divinity schools. 

Rose replied in 1829. His answer took the form of a 
letter to the Bishop of London. It is more effectively 
written than Pusey's book, but shows much keenness of 
feeling, and in parts obviously misrepresents Pusey. For 
01^ hinc he does ngt s uarel m e P e ' ositi e h 
rf dr 


charge against Pusey of having borrowed the substance of 
his book from Tholuck's lectures. 1 

Dr. Pusey was now Regius Professor of Hebrew, and 
took time over his reply, which appeared in 1830. He 
writes with much calmness of manner; and while admitting 
crudities, stands by his main position. He had previously 
replied very coolly to the charge of plagiarism from Tho- 
luck by pointing out that large passages of the book were 
not from Tholuck ; that Tholuck had given him permission 
to use his lectures, but not to publish his name ; and that 
he had made an acknowledgment sufficient to cover his 
debt. But he adheres strongly to his rejection of a doctrine 
of inspiration condemned by Seeker, Lowth, Tillotson, Van 
Mildert, and Blomfield, but affirmed by the eminent Scotch 
theologian, Dr. Dick, in these terms: "A contradiction 
which was fairly chargeable to the sacred writers themselves 
would completely disprove their inspiration." Against this 
Pusey says that the question of credibility must be settled 
before that of inspiration can be discussed, and that 
the old theory had shown a tendency to produce among 
laymen one precisely opposite, one which falls as far below 
as the former far exceeded what may be collected from 
Scripture. 2 

Whether Dr. Pusey anywhere repudiates the chief 
doctrines of hi3 early volumes I cannot tell. But his 

1 Mr. de Soyres, in an able article on Tholuck, recently published in the 
Guardian, hardly does justice to Pusey on this point. 

8 Dean Burgon, in his Life of Bose (p. 134) has the following very loose sen- 
tence : " Pusey's religious views underwent a very serious change about the same 
time ; and shortly after his two learned and interesting volumes were by him- 
self withdrawn from circulation." I do not know what evidence there is of a 
change of religious views on the part of Pusey ; but that there was no change 
in his attitude to biblical criticism is clearly shown from the preface to his book 
on Daniel, where he declares that forty years before he had satisfied himself 
of the authenticit tofcHDt P gi e S 


labours as a professor were simply to establish the Jewish 
and early Christian tradition in biblical criticism. His 
activities in various directions were incessant, but not " of 
a nature to enhance the reputation of a Hebrew professor.' ' 
The controversies about 'the Bible died down. Those who 
had been troubled by them were reassured by translations 
from Hengstenberg, Keil, and other German writers of 
approved orthodoxy. Very little genuine study of the 
01d_Testamen^ m ^n^a in & Ugid. 



fur deutsche Theologie is still the best. Bat the alarm it 
produced was increased by the publication of Colenso's 
books on the Pentateuch, the earlier parts of which ob- 
tained a wide circulation. As time passed on this declined ; 
and although Bishop Colenso gradually acquired a mastery 
of Hebrew and of German criticism, yet in the judgment of 
such men as Kuenen and Wellhausen, the earlier parts of 
his work are the most important, as the author brought a 
fresh arithmetical eye to the early records, and produced 
his results with sharpness and reality, while he had not the 
faculties of a great critic even when learning came to him. 
Colenso was replied to on every hand, and that generally 
with contumely. It was felt however that hard words were 
not sufficient, and the Speaker's Commentary was arranged 
for, while Dr. Pusey undertook the defence of the Book of 
Daniel. This was considered satisfactory : the orthodox 
school of Germans, including Delitzsch and all the writers 
accessible to the English public, was with the English 
conservatives ; few young Hebraists of real power were 
appearing in England ; and the offence of heterodoxy seemed 
to have ceased. 

In these circumstances Dr. Cheyne's life-work was begun. 
He had with prescient eye resolved to devote himself to 
Hebrew literature, and had received undying impulses from 
Ewald as well as much instruction from others in Germany. 
He returned to Oxford, and began immediately to produce 
original work, which called forth high encomiums from the 
foremost Germans. His powerful influence on the general 
public was exerted through the Academy, a journal started by 
Dr. C. E. Appleton, one of the truest benefactors to English 
literature in our time. Appleton, who had been much in 
Germany, was impressed with the insularity and poverty 
of English culture, and set himself, with heroic confidence 
in a people yet una wakened, to provide an organ of criticism, 


planned on the lines of the Literarisches Centralblatt. Dr. 
Cheyne became one of his closest helpers, and organized the 
theological department into thorough efficiency ; securing as 
contributors, not only such men as Lightfoot and Westcott 
in this country, but all the leading theological writers on 
the Continent, including Diestel, Lipsius, and many more. 
iSot a few who began to study theology about twenty years 
ago will never forget the impulse given them by the Aca- 
demy, and most of all by the fresh, fearless, and brilliant 
criticisms of Dr. Cheyne himself. I do not wish to " resur- 
rect" articles which the learned author may be inclined 
to regard as freaks of youthful audacity. But we learned 
from him that the Speaker's Commentary was not a satis- 
factory reply to Colenso ; that Dr. Pusey was hardly level 
with Keil, while a comparison with Delitzsch was out of 
the question ; that even English heresiarchs were of as 
little account as the most orthodox. He was the first to 
expound the Grafian theory of the Pentateuch, which has 
engaged scholars so much of late years and almost broke 
up a Scotch Church, stating the case for and against with 
a clearness never surpassed. Meanwhile he was working 
at his Booh of Isaiah Chronologically Arranged (1871), 
which led no less a man than Diestel to pronounce him 
11 a master of scientific exegesis. " 

For years after he pursued a course of unslackening 
industry, producing along with Dr. Driver an edition of 
the A.V. with various renderings and readings from the 
best authorities, one of the best aids existing to biblical 
exposition. But a revolution was taking place in his 
ideas. The critical movement had met with a serious 
check, as it appeared, first, that it involved literary pre- 
tensions which could not be allowed to any critics, and 
especially to critics of an unspiritual and unimaginative 
type. Matthew Arnold did good service in dwelling on 
the value of internal evidence on questions of disputed 


authorship ; and in insisting that on the literary and 
moral value of the biblical writings Hebrew and Greek 
learning gave no necessary right to speak. It was obvious 
further that the deductions drawn from the results of criti- 
cism were such usually as to destroy the whole foundation 
of supernatural religion, as in the case of Bishop Colenso. 
Passing through a period of deep religious feeling, Dr. 
Cheyne gave foil weight to considerations such as these, 
and produced (1880-1884) his great book on Isaiah, which 
is perhaps thus far his highest achievement, and in which 
he strove to speak " a piercing and reconciling word." 
This book was warmly welcomed by Franz Delitzsch and 
others, and was thought by many to signify a much more 
radical change of critical position than it really did. 

After some years of ministry in Tendring, where he was 
busy in all his spheres, Dr. Cheyne returned to Oxford as 
Oriel Professor of the Interpretation of Holy Scripture ; 
and has published his books on Job and Solomon and the 
Psalms, which have already taken their place among the 
classics of exegesis. He is for three months of every year 
in residence at Eochester as one of the canons, and has 
gained great popularity as a preacher in the cathedral 
pulpit. He has been able to reconcile with marvellous 
felicity the two great aims of his life : to advance biblical 
knowledge, and to teach it to his countrymen as they are 
able to bear it. This very specially appears in his last 
volume, The Hallowing of Criticism, which contains some 
fresh and bright cathedral sermons on Elijah, and a paper 
read at the Church Congress which these illustrate. 

I have been obliged to omit many names, such as those 
of Dean Stanley, Dean Perowne, the Nestor of English 
Hebraists, Dr. Quarry, and others, which would have been 
placed in this sketch had more space been attainable. 
The prejudice against biblical criticism has practically dis- 

a * K A h Churchof ] 'gbrei e . rT 


remarkable discussion at the Church Congress, notably the 
speech of the Bishop of Manchester. Men like Dr. Driver, 
Dr. Cheyne, Dean Perowne are at one in their view of 
criticism with New Testament scholars like Bishop Light- 
foot, Canon Westcott, Archdeacon Farrar, and Dr. Sanday. 
All are profound believers in supernatural Christianity. 
Perhaps it is not too much to say, that largely through Dr. 
Cheyne's influence scholars are now working at the Old 
Testament in firm confidence of bringing out results at 
once reconcilable with the attitude of Jesus to the Old 
Covenant, with the faith of the Church in Divine reve- ghofcaafc— h 

a. fjfctf d 9t n %n cF 




In this paper I shall endeavour, by expounding a few verses 
of the Epistle to the Philippians, to reproduce a most 
interesting and instructive episode in the Church life of the 
first century, and to pay a deserved tribute of honour to a 
little-known but very admirable contemporary and friend 
of the Apostle Paul. 

The letter bears marks of the prison in which it was 
written (Phil. i. 7, 13). That St. Paul refers twice to his 
bonds, that he does not tell his readers that he is in prison, 
but assumes that they know it and speaks only of the 
results of his imprisonment, suggests that it was no pass- 
ing incident, but had lasted for some time. That in vers. 
20-26 he lingers over the alternative of life or death, sug- 
gests that his life then hung in the balance. Ver. 20 re- 
veals a good hope of release. And chapter ii. 23, So soon 
as I sluxll see how it will go with me, suggests that a crisis 
was at hand. 

The implied length of the imprisonment compels us to 
su nwnf 'tten n t lat r han St. Paul's 

'c€ *>&& ul e *frfi**u v 

'.eti 6ot n atrs ivoooo 

e n 5;uur o nawuwn 

alte / 


aat t 


th n 

tJ1 e las P 


P. d| 

e at 



the Apostle's arrival at Rome and the writing of this 

That the Epistle was an acknowledgment of a gift sent 
from Philippi to St. Paul at Rome by the hand of Epa- 
phroditus is placed beyond doubt by chapter iv. 10, 14; 
and especially by ver. 18, Having received from Epaphro- 
ditus the things from you. News of the Apostle's arrival 
as a prisoner at Rome would easily and quickly reach 
Philippi. For between Rome and this Roman colony 
there was good communication along the Appian Way and 
Trajan's Way to Brundusium, across the narrow straits, 
and then along the Egnatian Way ; and travellers on this 
familiar route were many. The words now at length in 
chapter iv. 10 imply delay. But the delay was by no 
means the fault of the Philippian Christians : Ye did take 
thought^ but ye lacked opportunity. The lack of opportunity 
reminds us of the difficulty of sending money in ancient 
days. From St. Paul's words we learn that the news of 
his imprisonment and want at once filled the Christians 
at Philippi with solicitude on his behalf, and with an eager 
desire to help, but that difficulty of communication pre- 
vented for a time this desire from taking practical form. 
This mental activity on his behalf is accurately described 
by the Greek word <f>povelv, a favourite with the Apostle, 
and in the New Testament with him only, and a note of 
the enuineness of hi e. 3 R jpgjl iy>£ eg, I i - qsS 

&c , t ha f 

P h ' MW , d %U h 

lP h Plch ^ *a -aw -* 


great teacher to whom they owed so much. From chapter 
iv. 18 we infer that the gift was large : I have all things, 
and abound: I am filled, having received from Epaphroditus 
the thing 8 from you. Certainly it was as large as St. Panl 
needed. If, as is probable, the Christians at Philippi were 
as poor as the others in the province of Macedonia, and if 
these were as poor at this time as, in 2 Corinthians viii. 
2, St. Paul says they were a few years earlier, their deep 
poverty would immensely increase the significance and 
worth of this abundant gift. We may suppose that the 
contribution was quickly made, and that Epaphroditus was 
soon on his way with it to the prisoner at Borne. 

The gift filled St. Paul with joy: I rejoiced greatly, 
(Phil. iv. 10). And his joy was in the Lord ; i.e. it was 
no ordinary human gladness, such as that caused by supply 
of bodily need, but a joy which had direct relation to the 
Master whom he served, the Master's personality being, as 
it were, the surrounding element of the servant's joy. The 
money sent from Philippi revealed the genuineness and 
strength of the Christian life of St. Paul's converts there, 
the power of Christ to change the hearts of men, and the 
truth of the Gospel which St. Paul preached. It thus gave 
to him a firmer confidence and richer joy in Christ. 

Similarly, as he tells us in chapter i. 14, St. Paul's 
imprisonment gave to the more part of the Christians at 
Borne a fuller confidence in Christ ; they were trusting in 

g n ixjr.ii h ltin 


r v 


ii. 2, 17, 18, 28, 29 ; iii. 1 ; iv. 1, 4 twice, 10. And we can 
well conceive that this vein of gladness was prompted 
chiefly by the evidence afforded in the money brought by 
Epaphroditus of the spiritual power of the Gospel, and of 
the success of St. Paul's work. So rich a harvest from 
seed sown in tears might well fill the sower's heart with 
joy. We wonder not that in chapter iv. 1 he speaks of 
these loving children in the faith as his joy and crown, and 
that his letter to them overflows with joy on their behalf. 

Inasmuch as the gift from Philippi was a natural out- 
working of the Christian life operating according to its own 
organic laws, the Apostle describes it in a metaphor taken 
from vegetable growth : Ye have revived, or caused to sprout, 
your thought on my behalf. For a time want of opportunity 
prevented this manifestation of the Christian life. But the 
life was there. And when the hindrance was removed, like 
the torpor of winter retiring at the approach of spring, the 
old stock burst forth into new foliage and fruit. Another 
form of the same metaphor meets us in ver. 17 : I seek for 
the fruit which increaseth to your account. 

By making this contribution, the Christians at Philippi, 
as we read in ver. 14, had fellowship with St. Paul's 
affliction. For by submitting to the self-denial involved 
in their gift to him they placed themselves to this extent 
under the burden of imprisonment and want which was 
pressing upon him, and thus helped him to bear it. 

Their Tt iGS ' rf f >f wdbfcf f ^ff e * 



Philippi, pleasant to God and to man, was a perfume more 
fragrant than all the Levitical ritual. 

The Apostle reminds his readers that the gift for which 
he now thanks them was not their first gift to him. Long 
ago, at the beginning of the Gospel, when St. Paid first 
preached at Philippi and Thessalonica and then went forth 
from Macedonia to Athens and Corinth, the Philippian 
Christians sent a contribution for his support while preach- 
ing the Gospel in another province. This is a most inte- 
resting coincidence with 2 Corinthians xi. 9, When I teas 
present with you, and was in want, . . . the brethren, 
when they came from Macedonia, supplied the measure of 
my want. From the Epistle before us we learn that this 
Macedonian liberality was entirely from Philippi: No 
Church except ye only. Even this was not their first gift. 
St. Paul reminds them that before he left Macedonia they 
sent a gift to him at Thessalonica. More even than this. 
During his short stay there they sent twice to supply his 

The above casual and evidently undesigned coincidences 
between this Epistle and the second Epistle to the Corin- 
thians and the Book of Acts strongly confirm our other 
abundant proof of the genuineness of these Epistles and of 
the historic truthfulness of the Book of Acts. 

Once more. In 2 Corinthians viii. 1, 2, St. Paul speaks 
in glowing terms about the liberality of the Macedonian 
Christians in the great contribution he was then organizing 
among the Gentiles for the poor of the Christians at Jeru- 
salem, holding them up as an example to the Christians at 
Corinth. We have here no mention of Philippi. But the 
earlier and later gifts of the Christians there suggest inre- 

• ' 1 'firs 86 ' *° 


These incidents taken together are fall of significance, 
and present to us a most beautifal and instructive picture 
of early Christian generosity. The Christians at Philippi 
did a good work, which no one around them had done 
before. They made a contribution to enable one who had 
taught them to teach others at a distance from themselves. 
And by so doing they gained the high honour of opening up 
anew path of Christian well-doing. Moreover their libe- 
rality was no passing emotion. Long years afterwards, and 
when St. Paul was so far away that they could not render 
him practical aid, they were eager to do so ; and did so at 
the first opportunity. Their thoughtful care for the Apostle 
not only sprang up and bore fruit at once, but its fruitful- 
ness continued undiminished after the lapse of many years. 
Once more. The generosity of the Philippian Christians 
was not limited to kindness towards St. Paul. They who 
so readily contributed to supply the needs of the great 
Apostle, to whom they owed so much, contributed also to 
supply the needs of men to whom they owed nothing 
whatever, whom they had never seen, and whose attitude 
towards themselves had been rather hostile than friendly. 
For their liberality was prompted, not by human grati- 
tude, but by love to Christ and to those for whom Christ 
had died. 

It h ften been e , r , - , 

n n e n s a de § 8 SSof^ n && A 


.eeiL Tl _encebo e-, 
siLh e.ed. 


tinues to the present hour. We notice here on a wider 
scale the early development and the constancy already 
noticed in the one detail of generosity. The coincidence 
is not accidental. Gold perishes. But gold represents 
material good. Consequently a man's dealings with 
money reveal his conception of material good, and thus 
reveal his inmost character. The gifts of the Christians at 
Philippi were prompted hy genuine and intelligent love, 
the central virtue of the Christian life. And the love 
which prompted them bore fruit also in all other directions ; 
or, rather, it wrought in them a rich and full development 
of Christian excellence. Thus the spiritual pre-eminence of 
the Church at Philippi reveals the sacredness of Christian 
giving. This does not imply any unfair advantage to the 
rich. For the spiritual worth of giving is in inverse pro- 
portion to the wealth of the giver. The liberal givers in 
this case were probably poor. But it points out to the rich, 
and to all men, a pathway they must tread if they are to 
climb the heights of real Christian excellence. 

The spiritual importance of generosity St. Paul knew 
well. Hence his joy at the gift from Philippi. For he 
tells us in chapter iv. 17 that in his joy he is thinking, not 
about the supply of his own temporal need, but of the 
harvest of spiritual blessing which the gift is working out 
for the givers. 

We now return to Epaphroditus, the bearer of the gift 
from Philippi. St. Paul speaks of him in chapter ii. 25 as 
your apostle. This designation sheds light upon the title 
given by Christ, as recorded in Luke vi. 13, to the highest 
rank (1 Cor. xii. 28) of His servants. Just as they were 
commissioned by Him to bear to all men everywhere 
the good news of life, so Epaphroditus was commissioned 
by the Christians at Philippi to carry their gift to St. Paul. 
A similar use of the same word is found in 2 Corinthians 
viii. 23 : 'apostles of Churches. 


Another title of honour is given to Epaphroditus. St. 
Paul calls him your minister of my need. The Greek word 
here used, Xeirou/yyo?, and a cognate word with the same re- 
ference in ver. 30, are different from, and stronger than, the 
word commonly in the New Testament translated minister; 
and denote a public officer, or some one who renders service 
to the State. The same word is regularly used in the Sep- 
tuagint, e.g. Exodus xxviii. 35, 43, etc., as the title of the 
priests, the public and official servants of God in the ritual 
of the Old Covenant. A similar, but proportionately 
greater, honour St. Paul claims for himself in Romans xv. 
16, where, using the same word, he calls himself a public- 
minister of Jesus Christ ; and explains this title by saying 
that to proclaim the Gospel of God is his public and sacred 
and priestly work, and that the offering he desires to present 
to God is nothing less than the Gentiles consecrated to His 

A similar title of honour St. Paul now gives to Epaphro- 
ditus. By so doing he reminds his readers, that in bringing 
their gift to Eome he was performing on their behalf a 
public and. sacred work, viz. the supply of St. Paul's need. 
This work the Christians at Philippi would themselves 
have performed by personal attention to St. Paul. But 
this personal help, distance prevented them from ren- 
dering. The lack (ver. 30) of it Epaphroditus supplied by 
bringing their money to the imprisoned Apostle. Doubt- 
less this word was chosen in order to emphasise the impor- 
tance and dignity and sacredness of the work committed to 

In discharging the duty laid upon him by the Church at 
Philippi, the messenger fell seriously ill : He was sick nigh 
to death ; ... tie came near to death, hazarding his life 
in order to make up for the absence of your ministry towards 
me. The details of this illness are unknown to us. Pos- 
sibly, in his haste to reach and relieve the prisoner, Epa- 


phroditus exposed himself to inclement weather on the 
j Durney. Or perhaps, in his attention to St. Paul at Borne, 
iie exposed himself to infection. In any case the risk was 
knowingly encountered, with the express purpose of ren- 
dering to the Apostle the service which distance prevented 
the Christians at Philippi from rendering. Well might St. 
Paul speak in ver. 3*3 of such risk as encountered because 
of the work of Christ. For that which is done and suffered 
to aid the workers is done for the Master. 

The news of the illness of Epaphroditus had reached 
Philippi : and he knew this. An ordinary man would have 
been glad that they who sent him knew at how great risk 
and cost he had discharged their mission. But Epaphro- 
ditus was filled with sorrow. This sorrow reveals an 
exceedingly noble character. It was a mark of genuine 
unselfishness. He who has risked his life to help the great 
Apostle is troubled that his sickness has caused trouble to 
others. He would have preferred to suffer alone. And, 
since his friends at home are already troubled on his 
account, his care for them makes him wishful, now that 
apparently he is again well, to return and by his own 
presence to dispel their fears on his behalf. This wish to 
return was prompted by a sentiment so noble, that St. Paul 
felt that he had no choice but to comply: Necessary I 
deemed it to send Epaphroditus. 

The recovery of the sick man, St. Paul attributes, in 
ver. 27, to the mercy of God towards the sufferer and 
towards himself. This reveals his faith that even the 
uncertainties of human life are under the control of God. 
So does his request in 2 Thessalonians iii. 1, 2 for his 
readers' prayer that he may be preserved from bodily 
danger. We cannot infer from the above that St. Paul 
knew of the illness while Epaphroditus was in danger, and 
prayed for his recovery ; although this is quite possible, and 
not unlikely. For in any case, whether or not the danger 


was known to the Apostle, the recovery of the sick man 
was an act of Divine mercy both to him and to St. Paul. 

That Epaphroditus is called a, fellow-worker, we can easily 
understand ; for St. Paul was essentially a worker, and all 
his companions shared his toil. Bat the precise reference 
of fellow-soldier is not quite clear. The same title is in 
Philemon 2 given to Archippus. Doubtless Epaphroditus 
would bravely stand beside the prisoner at Eome, and en- 
counter cheerfully whatever risk or hardship this involved. 
Therefore, naturally, in the conflict of the Christian life, the 
Apostle calls him a companion in arms. 

Notice that St. Paul recognises, and bids his readers 
recognise, the work done and spirit shown by this brave 
fellow-soldier : Hold such in honour. That honour will be 
paid while the world lasts. 

Put together now the whole story of the gift from 
Philippi and the journey of Epaphroditus, and we have an 
incident of surpassing beauty from the life of the early 
Church. At Philippi we find corporate church life of the 
highest excellence ; and in Epaphroditus we have a private 
member worthy of the noble Church he represented. 

We go in thought, perhaps about the close of the year 
in which St. Paul arrived a prisoner at Borne, to Philippi. 
Less then eleven years ago three Jewish strangers visited 
this Boman colony. They remained a few weeks, until the 
scourging and imprisonment of two of them made their 
departure expedient. But the seed sown during that short 
sojourn had taken deep root. Loving and liberal hearts 
followed the strangers to other cities of Macedonia, and 
even beyond the limits of that province. Some six years 
later St. Paul again visited Philippi, and was overjoyed at 
the eagerness there manifested to support his great project 
of a contribution for the poor among the Christians at 
Jerusalem. The rftftrt e r e learn fralfa A ts xx h6 r 


St. Paul spent Easter in the bosom of the same beloved 
Church. Doubtless there, as at Muetas, 1 he spoke of the 
fears with which he looked forward to his arrival in the 
city which had now become the citadel of his foes. His 
subsequent arrest at Jerusalem must have come to the ears 
of his friends at Philippi. And lately they have heard that 
he is a prisoner at Borne and in want. 

The Church is eager to send help. But no one is able to 
go to Borne. And none but a personal messenger can carry 
money safely. 

Thus passed, in vain solicitude, some months. At last a 
messenger is found. Epaphroditus is going, or is able and 
willing to go, to Borne, and offers to carry help to the 
prisoner. A large gift is soon collected; and amid the 
blessings of the Church, and doubtless with many greetings 
for the Apostle, Epaphroditus starts along the great 
Boman road towards Borne ; but either before or after his 
arrival there, and in consequence of his loyalty to his trust, 
the messenger is overtaken by serious illness, and his life is 
in danger. But his charge is performed. The contribution 
is duly given to the prisoner. 

This unexpected mark of Christian sympathy fills the 
Apostle with joy. He longs to thank his benefactors. 
Moreover Epaphroditus is now well, and is troubled to 
bear that tidings of his illness have reached his friends at 
Philippi. How great will be their loving anxiety on his 
behalf, he knows well. He is therefore eager to dispel their 
fears by his personal presence among them again. . This 
desire St. Paul approves. The opportunity thus afforded, he 
also resolves to use by sending to his friends at Philippi a 
worthy acknowledgment of their kindness to him. With 
th Fbdus "*" * vaSF$t ^ "ffinitel naore repioo dhan hat PfiicbBh. 



has appended to this text are of very great value. Indeed among 1 
the many excellent editions of the Teaching which have been 
produced, none gives a more truly illustrative book of notes. The 
chapter on the Hebraisms of the Teaching is especially interesting 
and valuable, adding, as it does, to the information already fur- 
nished by Dr. Taylor. The volume does credit to all concerned 
in its production. 

From the same press has been issued A Collation of the Athos 
Codex of The Shepherd of Hennas by Spyr. P. Lambros, Ph.D., 
Prof. Univ. Athens, translated and edited by J. Armitage Robin- 
son, M.A. Until 1855 the text of the Shepherd was merely 
guessed at through a Latin version. In that year the notorious 
Constantino Simonides sold to the University of Leipsic what he 
affirmed was the original Greek text of the Shepherd. This was 
in the form of three leaves of a fourteenth century MS., and a 
copy of six other leaves of the same MS. which he had not been 
able to bring away. In consequence of the literary frauds he was' 
found to be perpetrating, the gravest suspicions were thrown upon 
this pretended copy. But Dr. Lambros, in cataloguing the MSS. 
of the Athos libraries, came upon one which he believes to be " the 
much-desired original of the apographon of Simonides." It is a 
collation of this MS. that is now published, and it must of course 
be the chief authority for the text of Hennas. 

Introduction. — To this department of New Testament literature 
Dr. Paton J. Gloag has made a contribution of great value in 
his Introduction to the Catholic Epistles (T. & T. Clark). In this 
volume every question which has arisen regarding these epistles 
is fully and candidly discussed. Nothing escapes Dr. Gloag's 
research. With the whole field of modern criticism he is familiar; 
and he puts his reader in possession of an amount of information 
which very few men have time to acquire for themselves. This 
research and learning Dr. Gloag uses with great good sense and 
judgment. His conclusions are at all times reasonable, and there 
are few critics with whom a majority of unbiassed minds will 
more frequently be found in agreement. To discuss those points 
on which we might be disposed to disagree with Dr. Gloag is here 
impossible. It is from his own book any who disagree with him 
are likely to find weapons wherewith to encounter him, for it is a 
vast repertory of opinions and suggestions on all questions of date, 
authorship, and contents of the catholic epistles. It does not 


broach any new theories, and it is none the worse on that account. 
But while it defends traditional conclusions, it does so with full 
and candid consideration of all that has been urged against them. 
Dr. Gloag maintains the authenticity of 2 Peter, although he feels 
himself unable to determine whether that epistle or Jude has the 
better claim to priority, and on other points he is equally conser- 
vative. We may reasonably desire the more piercing light and 
the more original criticism which genius can bring, but we need 
not look for a more complete digest of opinions than this accep- 
table volume gives us. 

In Mr. Nicoll's u Theological Educator," An Introduction to the 
New Testament has been furnished by Dr. Marcus Dods. This 
does not profess to be more than a compilation for the use of 
those who are beginning this study. It is hoped that it may find 
its way where larger books cannot find access. 

An introduction to the fourth Gospel has been written by 
Mr. Howard Heber Evans under the title, St. John the Author of the 
Fourth Gospel (Messrs. James Nisbet <fe Co.). This is an attempt 
to prove the Johannine authorship, chiefly by an examination of 
the phraseology and style of the Gospel. It turns the tables on 
those who declare it to be a psychological impossibility that the 
Apocalypse and the Gospel proceeded from one mind. Mr. Evans, 
by a careful analysis of the language of both writings, shows it to 
be a psychological impossibility that those two documents could 
have been other than the work of one and the same hand. The 
case he presents is a very strong one, and he presents it in a simple 
and lucid form, and even such critics as may repudiate his conclu- 
sion must at least be thankful for the useful tables of parallel 
phrases and ideas he has furnished. This is the best piece of 
criticism Mr. Evans has yet given us, and is indeed a solid and 
important contribution to the criticism of the fourth Gospel. 

Exposition. — To Mr. Nicoll's " Expositors Bible " (Hodder and 
Stoughton) two volumes of uncommon merit have been added, 
the one by Prof. Findlay on The Epistle to the Oalatians, the other 
by Principal Edwards on T\ie Epistle to the Hebrews. Readers of 
this magazine have learned to expect thorough work from Prof. 
Findlay. In his New Testament studies he has always shown 
independence and originality, combined with an accurate appre- 
hension of what hel h lars have ascertained. eam ne same 
asx a P n to 




said that no other commentary enables the reader to apprehend 
so readily and so accurately the meaning of this great epistle. 
To ascertain and expound the apostle's gospel as exhibited in 
Galatians calls for a theologian as well as a scholar. The ex- 
positor must be able to lift the mind from the exact analysis of 
words and phrases to those great ideas which make this epistle 
one of the foundation-stones of Christian doctrine. This is accom- 
plished by Prof. Findlay. He writes with the accuracy of one 
who has long pondered his theme, and with the vigour and spirit 
of a full and eager mind. 

Principal Edwards may also be congratulated on successfully 
achieving the difficult task of unfolding the meaning of The 
Epistle to the Hebrews. In this volume every page shows traces 
of careful and capable study. The epistle bristles with crucial 
passages for a commentator, and none but a veteran need attempt 
to find his way through these and to keep a firm hold on the 
thread that guides. However any critic may differ from Principal 
Edwards' interpretation of this or that passage, it will be owned 
that he deals with every difficulty in a straightforward and scho- 
larly manner. It would very greatly have aided the reader if 
a brief introduction, indicating the scope and course of the 
epistle, had been prefixed to the exposition. But when one gets 
fairly launched in the book the stream of strong and consecutive 
thought carries one on. Brilliant and weighty passages relieve the 
strain of following the argument and quicken the attention. And 
it will be the opinion of every reader that Principal Edwards has pro- 
duced a volume full of substance and worthy of its great theme. 

Another admirable guide to the meaning of this epistle is fur- 
nished to English readers in Mr. Frederic Rendall's The Epistle 
to the Hebrews (Macmillan & Co.). The same author had pre- 
viously published a thoughtful and original introduction to this 
epistle, as well as critical and explanatory notes on the Greek 
text. He has now republished the introduction along with a 
translation of the Greek text and copious notes. These notes are 
free from everything that might stagger the English reader. No 
Greek words occur, no names of commentators or books of refe- 
rence load the page. But beneath this nnscholastic surface lie 
a scholarship as severe and a criticism as penetrating and exact 
as are to be found in the most learned of German commentaries. 
The reader at once finds himself under the guidance of a serious 


and candid mind. New meaning .is assigned to several words, and 
a new turn given to some phrases and passages ; and although 
these will not always be approved, they are all recommended by 
considerations that are both interesting and weighty. We have 
few expositions of Scripture which will be found more incentive 
to thought, and certainly no one who wishes to understand the 
Epistle to the Hebrews should neglect Mr. Kendall's volume. 

The Gospel of St. John still attracts expositors. Not only has 
the second volume of The Pulpit Commentary on the fourth Gospel 
been published, completing a very full and instructive book, but 
Dr. Thomas Whitelaw has issued with Messrs. Maclehose an ex- 
position of the same Gospel for the use of clergymen, students, 
and teachers. It is named The Gospel of St. John : an Exposition 
Exegetical and Homiletical. The homiletical part, in our opinion, 
does injustice to the exegetical ; and is besides incongruous, for 
those who relish the exegesis will not consult the homiletics. The 
exegetical part is decidedly good of its. kind. It gathers all the 
interpretations of each phrase, and classifies them, so that the 
reader can choose for himself. The volume therefore represents, 
and will save, a vast amount of labour. Sometimes the reader 
desiderates a little more dogmatism on the part of Dr. Whitelaw, 
and a little less of the mosaic of other men's opinions ; but for 
practical purposes, probably Dr. Whitelaw's method is best. 
And we cannot too highly respect the painstaking diligence which 
every page of his work evinces. The introduction to the Gospel 
is a most satisfactory piece of work, full, strong, and conclusive. 
It would be difficult to furnish in the same space a more effective 
defence of the authorship of this much-debated Gospel. Alto- 
gether the book will fulfil its author's design, and be useful to 
clergymen, students, and teachers. 

In mentioning Dr. Thomas Richey's The Parables of the Lord 
Jesus according to St. Matthew, wo travel beyond our province, as 
the volume is published in New York. Mr. Higham, the English 
publisher, has however sent us a copy ; and while we leave the 
criticism of it to Professor Warfield, we think it right meanwhile 
to recommend it to all who wish to see the parables treated in a 
more scientific manner than that which is sometimes adopted. It 
is a book which repays study. 

Dr. Robert Johnstone, Professor of New Testament Literature 
in the United Presbyterian College, Edinburgh, has issued two 


books €1111-111? the past half rear. One of these is published by 
Messrs. Clark, and is on The Fin* Epistle of Peter. It is intended 
to aid students of the Greek text, and is perhaps even too fall in 
its grammatical and texical explanations. This however is a vice 
that leans to virtue's side; and no one will question the con- 
scientious and painstaking diligence with which Dr. Johnstone 
has applied himself to the accurate ascertainment of his author's 
meaning. Turning to one of the crucial passages of the epistle, 
we find that Dr. Johnstone understands that Christ's preaching to 
the spirits in prison was accomplished during the lifetime and 
through the agency of Noah. This interpretation is scarcely com- 
patible with the clause, to** cr <jn\aicrj xrcvfuun vopcvdci? ; and 
although Dr. Johnstone endeavours to show that xopo^ct's is ad- 
missible on his interpretation, we find in the numerous pages 
devoted to the passage no explanation of the phrase, " the spirits 
in prison," although it may be gathered from what is said that 
the imprisonment referred to is their condition after death. Dr. 
Johnstone's explanation of the references which the apostles made 
to the expected coming of Christ is not satisfactory. " Whether 
the apostles themselves, pondering the data which God had made 
known to them, thought it likely that *the end of all things' 
would come during their own generation, is a question to which 
we are not in a position to give an answer." This assertion seems 
at all events a little out of place in a commentary on the words, 
"the end of all things is at hand." In the main however 
Dr. Johnstone's determination of the meaning of his author can 
be accepted, and as a whole fhe commentary is full of the fruits of 
sound and exact scholarship, and of serious thought. It is the best 
available aid to the study of the epistle with which it deals. 

The other volume, issued for Dr. Johnstone by Messrs. OHphant, 
Anderson <fc Ferrier, is a second edition of his Lectures on the 
Epistle of James. These are popular, and are yet based on a 
careful examination of the text. They were delivered from the 
pulpit to an ordinary congregation, and are admirably adapted for 
preaching purposes. They give a lucid explanation of every verse, 
and carry out its meaning into suitable applications to life and 
character. Preachers will derive valuable assistance from the 

Mjlkcus Dods. 


VI. The Way op Salvation (Chap. ii. 11-18). 

This section contains a farther elucidation of the way or 
method of salvation in its bearing on the personal expe- 
riences of the Saviour. It may be analysed into these 
three parts : First, the statement of a principle on which 
the argument proceeds (ver. 11) ; second, illustrations of 
the principle by citations from the Old Testament (vers. 
12, 13) ; third, applications of the principle to particular 
facts in the history of Jesus (vers. 14-18). 

The writer at this point seems at first sight to be making 
a new start, looking forward rather than backward, and 
with the priesthood of Christ, of which express mention is 
made in ver. 17, specially in his eye. Further reflection 
however satisfies us that, as the " for " at the commence- 
ment of ver. 11 suggests, he looks backward as well as 
forward, and that the new truth therein enunciated has its 
root in the statement contained in ver. 10. The assertion 
that the Sanctifier and the sanctified are all of one may be 
conceived of as answering two questions naturally arising 
out of ver. 10, to which it furnishes no explicit answer. 
First, Christ is called the Captain or Leader of salvation : 
how does He contribute to salvation ? Is He simply the 
first of a series who pass through suffering to glory? or does 
He influence all the sons whom God brings to glory so 
as to contribute very materially to the great end in view, 
their reaching the promised land? Second, what is the 
condition of His influence ? what is the nexus between Him 

vol. ix. 81 6 


and them, the Leader and the led, that enables Him to exert 
over them this power ? The answer to the former question 
is, Christ saves by sanctifying ; the answer to the latter, 
that He and the sanctified are one. The answer in the first 
case is given indirectly by the substitution of one title 
for another, the " Leader of salvation " being replaced by 
the " Sanctifier"; the answer in the second case is given 
directly, and forms the doctrine of the text : the Sanctifier 
and the sanctified are all of one. 

The new designation for Christ is presumably selected 
because it fits in both to that view of His function sug- 
gested by the title Leader, and to that implied in the title 
High Priest, introduced in the sequel. No good reason 
can be given for limiting the reference to the latter. The 
probability is that the writer meant to imply that Christ 
sanctifies both as a Captain and as a Priest, as the Moses 
and as the Aaron of the great salvation. It is probable that 
he introduces the title "the Sanctifier' ' to adjust the idea of 
salvation to the Saviour's priestly office, but it is reasonable 
to suppose that he does this without any breach in the 
continuity of thought. 

These are simple observations, but they involve a very 
important question; viz. in what sense are the terms "sanc- 
tifier" and "sanctified" used in this place? and, generally, 
what conception of sanctification pervades the epistle? In 
the ordinary theological dialect "sanctification" bears an 
ethical meaning, denoting the gradual renewal of his nature 
experienced by a believing man. The usage can be justified 
by New Testament texts in Paul's epistles, and as I believe 
also in the Epistle to the Hebrews ; but the notion of holi- 
ness thus reached is secondary and derivative. In the Old 
Testament holiness is a religious rather than an ethical 
idea, and belongs properly to the sphere of worship. The 
people of Israel were holy in the sense of being consecrated 
for the service of God, the consecration being effected by 


sacrifice, which purged the worshippers from the defilement 
of sin. It was to be expected that the ritual or theocratic 
idea of holiness should reappear in the New Testament, 
especially in an epistle like that to the Hebrews, in which 
Christian truth is largely stated in terms suggested by 
Levitical analogies. Accordingly we do find the word 
" sanctify " employed in the epistle in the Old Testament 
sense, in connexion with the priestly office of Christ, as in 
chapter x. 10: "sanctified through the offering of the body of 
Jesus Christ once for all." In such texts sanctification has 
more affinity with " justification* ' in the Pauline system of 
thought, than with the sanctification of dogmatic theology. 
But it might also be anticipated that the conception of 
holiness would undergo transformation under Christian in- 
fluences, passing from the ritual to the ethical sphere. The 
source of transforming power lay in the nature of the Chris- 
tian service. The sacrifices of the new era are spiritual: 
thankfulness, beneficent deeds, pure conduct. A good life 
is the Christian's service to God. Thus while formally con- 
sidered sanctification might continue to mean consecration 
to God' 8 service, materially it came to mean the process 
by which a man was enabled to live soberly, righteously, 
godly. Traces of this transformed meaning are to be 
found throughout the New Testament. The Epistle to the 
Hebrews is no exception to this statement. The term 
" holiness " (ayiao-fjLos) is used in an ethical sense twice in 
the twelfth chapter. In ver. 10 it is stated that God's end 
in subjecting His children to paternal discipline is to make 
them partakers of His own holiness ; in ver. 14, Christiana 
are exhorted to follow peace with all men and holiness — 
' g ' ti c ,' od a 


tain of sanctifying influence. The word is not used, but the 
thing, help to godly living, is there. "Looking unto Jesus" 
the Leader in faith is commended as a source of moral 
strength and stedfastness (xii. 2). Even in His priestly 
character He is set forth as a source of moral inspira- 
tion. Through Him, the great High Priest, we receive 
"grace for seasonable succour" (iv. 16); from Him, the 
tempted one, emanates aid to the tempted (ii. 18). God's 
paternal discipline, our own self-effort, Christ's example, 
priestly influence, and sympathy, all contribute to the same 
end, persistency and progress in the Christian life. In 
connexion with the first, we may say God sanctifies ; in 
connexion with ^the second, we may say we sanctify our- 
selves ; why may we not, in connexion with the third, call 
Christ the Sanctifier? 

It thus appears that sanctification is spoken of in the 
epistle both in a ritual and in an ethical sense, and that 
Christ is represented, in effect if not in express terms, as 
performing the part of a sanctifier, not merely by conse- 
crating us once for all to God by the sacrifice of Himself, 
but likewise by being to us in various ways a source of 
gracious help. This double sense of the word sanctify is 
analogous to the double sense of the word " righteousness " in 
the Pauline literature. In stating his doctrine of salvation, 
Paul uses the word in an objective sense. The righteous- 
ness of God is an objective righteousness, given to us for 
Christ's sake. But in the Pauline apologetic, in which the 
apostle seeks to reconcile his doctrine with apparently con- 
flicting interests, such as the claims of the law, the prero- 
gatives of Israel, and the demands of morality, we find the 
word used in a subjective sense — to denote a righteousness 
within us. Bepelling the insinuation that we may continue 
in sin that grace may abound, he strives to show how every 
believer in Christ becomes a servant of righteousness. Even 
so in the Epistle to the Hebrews we find sanctification 


used in a doable sense, a ritual and an ethical. Bat there 
is a failure in the parallelism between the two writers in 
this respect, that whereas in Paul what one might call the 
artificial or technical sense of righteousness appears in his 
doctrinal statement, and the ethical sense in his apologetic, 
in the author of our epistle the ritual sense of sanctifi- 
cation appears in those parts of his writing which are 
dominated by his apologetic aim, and the ethical chiefly in 
the practical or hortatory passages, where he is set free from 
the trammels of his apologetic argument. 1 

If it be indeed true that Christ appears in the epistle as a 
sanctifier in a twofold sense,— in a specific sense as a priest, 
in a general as a fountain of grace, then it is natural to 
suppose that in introducing the title " the Sanctifier," for 
the first time the writer would employ it in a compre- 
hensive sense, covering the whole extent of Christ's sanc- 
tifying influence. This comprehensive sense, as we have 
seen, suits the connexion of thought, the text standing 
midway between two views of Christ's function as Saviour, 
—that suggested by the title Captain of salvation, on the one 
hand, and that suggested by the title High Priest, on the 
other — looking back to the one and forward to the other. 
I feel justified therefore in putting upon the designation 
"the Sanctifier " this pregnant construction, and shall now 
proceed to consider the affirmation in ver. 11, that the 
Sanctifier and the sanctified are all of one. 3 

This statement, as indicated at the outset, I regard as 
the enunciation of a principle; by which is meant that 

1 Another point will come up for comparison in due course. Paul discovers 
in the very heart of his system a nexus between objective and subjective right- 
eousness. Does the system of thought in this epistle provide for the union of 
the two kinds of sanctifioation ? or do they stand side by Bide, external to each 
other ? Are religious and ethical interests reconciled by a principle inherent in 
the system ? 

* The present participle, ol ayia£6fX€i>oi, fits into the view that an ethical pro- 
gressive sanctifioation is included, but it does not prove it, for the participles 
may be timeless designations of the parties. 


the unity asserted is involved in the relation of Sanctifier 
to sanctified. Whether there be only one or many exem- 
plifications of the relation is immaterial. Though only one 
Sanctifier were in view or possible, the proposition would 
still continue to be of the nature of a principle. The point 
is, that Christ, as Sanctifier, must be one with those whom 
He sanctifies, could not otherwise perform for them that 
function. Some, as if bent on reducing the significance of 
the statement to a minimum, take it as the mere assertion 
of a fact : that this Sanctifier, Jesus Christ, and those whom 
He sanctifies are all of one God, that is, are all the chil- 
dren of God, the purpose of the statement being to justify 
the use of the title " sons " in the previous verse, or to 
repeat the truth implied in it. But that title, as we have 
seen, rests on its own foundation, the lordship of men, and 
needs neither justification nor repetition. Viewed as the 
statement of a fact, the first member of verse 11 becomes 
almost purposeless and superfluous. Viewed as the state- 
ment of a principle, on the other hand, it becomes a very 
necessary and fruitful proposition. The relative terms Sanc- 
tifier and sanctified imply one very obvious and wide dif- 
ference between the parties. The Sanctifier is holy, the 
sanctified when He takes them in hand are unholy. That 
being so, it ' needs to be said that, notwithstanding the 
separation between the parties, there is a unity between 
them surmounting the difference. And that can be said 
with truth, for otherwise the two parties could not stand 
in the relation of Sanctifier to sanctified ; they could only 
stand permanently apart as holy and unholy. Unity is 
>i n tarn tcamsalved in the nat r t Pr nc efaifc istt ropifcelb \fihat 


of the temptations of middle life, or the infirmities of old 
age; in outward lot He was the brother of the poor, and 
was well acquainted with their griefs, but of the joys and 
temptations of wealth He had no experience. But these 
features of difference do not fall under the category of the 
curse. Family ties date from before the fall. The doom 
pronounced on man was death immediate, and prolonged 
life is a mitigation of the curse. Wealth too is a miti- 
gating feature, another evidence that the curse has not 
been executed in rigour, but has remained to a consider- 
able extent an unrealized ideal, because counteracted by 
an underlying redemptive economy. It will be found that 
Christ's likeness to His brethren is closest just where the 
traces of the curse are most apparent: in so far as this 
life is (1) afflicted with poverty, (2) exposed to temptations 
to ungodliness, (3) subject to death under its more mani- 
festly penal forms, as when it comes as a blight in early 
life, or as the judicial penalty of crime. Jesus was like His 
brethren in proportion as they need His sympathy and 
succour, like the poor, the tempted, the criminal. 

This likeness had for its final cause that the Sanctifier 
might become an effective helper of those to whom He w r as 
thus made like. 

"That He might be a merciful and trusty High Priest in 
things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of 
the people." These weighty words form an important land- 
mark in the epistle, as containing the first express mention 
of a topic which the writer has had in view from the outset, 
and on which he will have much to say in the sequel ; viz. 
the Priesthood of Christ. He has now arrived at a point in 
his argument at which he can introduce the great thought 
with some chance of being understood ; though how well 
aware he is of the difficulty likely to be felt by his readers 
in taking it in appears from the fact that, immediately after 
announcing the new theme, he invites them to consider 

VOL. ix. 7 


carefcily the Apostle and High Priest of their confession 
»iii. 1, . In effect he says: 4 'Xow this is a great and glorious 
but for you di5<nit topic : give yonr minds to it ; come, 
study it with me, it will well repay your pains." Here he 
does little more than introduce the subject. The priestly 
function of Christ he describes in general terms as exercised 
towards Gcd and as consisting in the expiation of sin. No 
mention as yet of the means of propitiation, " gifts and 
sacrifices " (v. 1) : still less of the fact that Christ accom- 
plishes the result by the sacrifice of Himself. He will take 
care not to introduce that master-thought till he can do so 
with effect. Here on the threshold of the subject he gives 
prominence rather to the moral qualities of a well equipped 
High Priest, mercifulness and trustworthiness ; moved 
partly by a regard to the connexion of thought, and partly 
by a desire to present Christ as Priest in a winsome light. 
The stress laid on these attributes is one of the originalities 
of the epistle, whether we have regard to the legal require- 
ments for the priestly office as specified in the Pentateuch, 
or to the view of Christ's atoning work presented by other 
New Testament writers. It is one of the writer's favourite 

Of the two attributes the former is the chief, for he who is 
merciful, compassionate, will be faithful. It is want of sym- 
pathy that makes officials perfunctory. Hence we might 
read " a merciful and therefore a faithful, trustworthy High 
Priest." So reading we see the close connexion between 
the experiences of Christ and His fitness for the priestly 
office. For all can understand how an experience of trial 
and temptation might help to make Christ compassionate, 
while it is not so easy to see why it behoved Him to suffer 
all He suffered in order to perform the essential duty of a 
Priest — that of atoning for sin. One might think that for 

.1 i er u ose it were enough to die • but t insure that 
I l f i in setb , & , 

tf WMf 1 .IfeHt Hl a * n d e e ^ 


constituents, it behoved Him to be made in all respects like 
unto His brethren. 

The other end served by Jesus being made in all things 
like His brethren is thus stated : " For having Himself been 
tempted in that which He suffered. He is able to succour tlwse 
irho are being tempted." This rendering of verse 18 is one 
of several possible ones which it is not necessary to enu- 
merate or discuss, as the general sense is plain ; viz. that 
Christ having experienced temptation to be unfaithful to 
His vocation in connexion with the sufferings arising out of 
it, previously alluded to as a source of perfecting, is able 
to succour those who, like the Hebrew Christians, were 
tempted in similar ways to be unfaithful to their Christian 
calling. The words show us, not so much a different part 
of Christ's ministry as Priest, as a different aspect of it. In 
the previous verse His work is looked at in relation to 
sinners for whose sins He makes propitiation. In this 
verse, on the other hand, that work is looked at in relation 
to believers needing daily succour amid the temptations to 

hr 1 ' - * 




The scriptural accounts of the Apostles are both interesting 
and important, even if we only regard them as pieces of 
character-painting by the same artists who have drawn for 
us the amazing figure of Jesus. 

For the character of our Lord is an evidence, now 
thoroughly recognised and established. It is not only by 
His spiritual pre-eminence that the student is impressed, 
but also by the verisimilitude of various and minute details, 
related by four writers of widely different style, tempera- 
ment, and tastes. All of them show us the same dexterity 
in debate, in teaching the same sweetness and love of illus- 
trations, the same resort for these to the homely and every- 
day side of nature and human life, the same penetrating 
gaze, the same gentle helpfulness, the same indignation 
moved by certain respectable vices, and the same astonish- 
ing tolerance when sinners against whom society cries out 
appeal to Him. We feel that such harmony could never 
e eoe . ne & av £ &>&£% r er " f d if in m ths of a later 


recognise the hand of Peter in the second gospel. These 
only have succeeded in painting a face without shadows ; 
and the natural explanation of their success is that they 
actually beheld the countenance which is, in the moral 
heaven, as the sun shineth in his strength. 

No belief which men allow themselves to reject offhand 
because it is " contrary to experience " can be more so than 
their achievement. It is miraculous, according to the 
boldest definition of a miracle, unless we are to ignore 
the existence of laws of literature and of mind. And it 
continues to be miraculous, even when the sceptic sub- 
stitutes his own theory of the authorship of the gospels. 

Whatever reinforcement this argument needs it may 
draw from the treatment of the twelve Apostles in the same 
documents. They too are persons with whom legend and 
myth might well busy themselves, foundation stones of the 
celestial city, throned assessors in the final judgment of 
mankind. How then are they represented by the evan- 
gelists? Are they glorious and blameless, betraying the 
untrustworthy nature of the romances which delight us ? 
Sceptical theories would lead us to expect this, but it is 
not what we find in the Bible. Let any one compare the 
Gospels with the Acta Sanctorum, and he will know all 
the difference between history and legend. If there is 
nothing to be recorded about them which helps the central 
narrative they are left in perfect obscurity, such as conceals 
Bartholomew. Whatever is related is homely, substantial, 
and matter of fact. We see them quarrelling about the 
mastery, and whispering among themselves when they 
have no bread, and the words of the Master perplex them. 
We see the fisherman girding on his coat, the troubled 
group asleep for sorrow, and again incredulous for joy, the 
nervous blow that misses the skull and only cuts off the 
ear, the utterly disheartened love which reckons up the 
five deadly wounds, and wrongly thinks th$t .belief, in the 



resurrection will be impossible until it has verified them all. 
In all this we find the best of evidence that no mythical 
tendency created the strange and majestic Figure in the 
midst, so unlike these or any other men ; yet no blurred 
outline, fuller of humanity than the most human, at once 
the most manlike and the most unearthly. 

In studying the Apostles, several lines of thought may 
be kept in view. What has just been indicated may be 
observed in detail, the homely verisimilitude of the narra- 
tives, quite free from any tendency to apotheosis or even 
canonization. We may take notice that the part assigned 
to them in the fourth Gospel is exactly and minutely similar 
to that which they hold in the other three. 

Or we may inquire what it was that recommended these 
plain men for the supreme rank among mankind. The 
answer will not be found in the possession of qualities then 
reckoned admirable, the wisdom or learning or nobility of 
the Greek world. They were all to come to nought, as a 
needful step in the development of that regenerate man- 
hood which would find its true nobility only by despising 
them. Attainments were not rejected, or Saul of Tarsus 
would not have been a chosen vessel ; yet they took a very 
secondary place among the qualifications for that first and 
grandest crusade, wherein the heroes who went forth con- 
quering and to conquer were sheep in the midst of wolves, 
Jews among the Greeks and Galileans among the Jews. 

Nor is there a trace of the still poorer wisdom of the 
modern world, the cleverness by which fortunes are made 
or competing politicians " dished," what our American 
friends call smartness. They are only worldly wise in so 
far as they are falling from grace. 

But there is a very great deal of what is far more precious 
(and often wins a more enduring fame even beyond the 
limits ef.lhe. Church), the unaffected human nature which 


Christ redeemed ; the simple, rich, primitive instincts which 

do not belong to man as a cultivated nor yet as a fallen 

being, but as man, the creature whom God made and 

Christ redeemed. They are persons in whom Shakespeare 

would have taken a much greater interest than Pope. 

Yet another point has to be borne in mind which is too 

much forgotten. Except by glimpses in the Acts, we see 

disciples rather than Apostles, recruits in training for the 

great war, not veterans justifying their commission. We 

know not how Andrew bore himself in Scythia, nor Thomas 

in India ; we are not even assured of the places where they 

really fulfilled their ministry. The criticisms, far too free 

and slighting, which assail them lose much of their force 

mrhen rtr «u«r *id f i.t „ hvnren- to om «f e P e& mE ehdi 

e mm h 

e ur t P 


found in any subdivision except his own, while the names 
of Peter, Philip, and the second James are always at the 
head of their group, and the first rank is composed of the 
mighty brothers, the sons of Jonas and of Zebedee. All 
this is best accounted for by supposing that the groups were 
actually thus arranged, and that each had a sort of captain 
at its head. 

On the last journey to Jerusalem, it is explicitly stated 
that Jesus went before, and as they followed they were 
afraid (Mark x. 32). Now this, if it stood alone, might only 
express the holy earnestness with which He then especially 
came to do the will of God. His rapt devotion is evidently 
the cause of their awe. But their order in going harmonizes 
with the call, " Come ye after Me," with the warning, 
" Whosoever doth not . . . follow Me cannot be My 
disciple/' and with the going of the Good Shepherd before 
the sheep (Matt. iv. 19, x. 38; John x. 4). So too when 
Peter pressed upon Him with a too carnal sympathy, Jesus 
first turned about, and then, seeing His disciples, rebuked 
him (Mark viii. 33; cf. also Matt. viii. 19, 23, and many 
other places). 

2. Since they were chiefly men of outdoor, hardy avoca- 
tions, one might fairly expect them to be capable of more 
physical exertion than their Master, whose lifelong occupa- 
tion had been more sedentary, and upon whom an unpre- 
cedented burden always pressed. Accordingly, we find them 
permitted to go forward to Sychar for provisions, while their 
Lord sat beside the well in an attitude which expressed His 
weariness. And they could row hard across the lake, while 
Jesus had sunk into deep slumber upon the helmsman's 
cushion in the stern (John iv. 6, Mark. iv. 3S). 

3. The manner in which they are helpful to Him is very 
natural. As Paul was not sent to baptize, so Jesus Him- 
self baptized not, but from the first entrusted to them a 
duty which made no premature demand upon their spiritual 





insight (John iv. 1). And when they were first sent out to 
preach, their teaching was but rudimentary : the near ap- 
proach of the kingdom, rather than any statement of its 
nature ; the signs which were evidence of their commission ; 
the goodwill expressed in their greeting ; and the confidence 
which threw itself upon their hearers for supplies, and 
lacked nothing, — these, and an indignant protest against 
such as rejected them, served to prepare the villagers for 
His coming, and to develop their own faith, while not over- 
straining it (Matt. x. 5). But this is scarcely the gospel 
which a later age would have entrusted to them. 

Elsewhere their duties are sufficiently humble. They buy 
bread at Sychar, they find what provision is among the 
hungry crowds, they sever the multitudes into less un- 
wieldy groups, they bring the colt and prepare the pass- 
over (John iv. 8; Mark vi. 38-43 ; Matt. xxi. 2, xxvi. 17). 
It is at the end of His ministry that the Master who 
has, He reminds them, already called them friends, calls 
them no longer bondservants (John xv. 15). 

4. There is help which might have been expected, but 
which they fail to render. They neither interpose when 
He is in danger at Nazareth, nor again when He conveyed 
Himself away from the Pool of Bethesda, and the Jews 
sought to kill Him (Luke iv. 30; John v. 13, 18). This 
absence of heroism, while yet their training is immature, 
appears also in another way. It is a curious indication of 
the awe which Jesus inspired, that His opponents, espe- 
cially in the earlier controversies, impugned His doings, not 
to His face, but in murmurs among themselves or else to 
His followers, while they often ventured to question Him 
about the strange doings of His disciples. 

i a 



en H 




1. . d 

e l 

ath da 

P d 



a. i.e > $ b 




rebuke Thy disciples " (Mark ii. 24, vii. 5 ; Matt. ix. 14 ; 
Lukexix. 39). 

It is to them that they say, " Why eateth your Master 
with publicans and sinners ? " " Doth not your Master 
pay tribute?" (Matt. ix. 11, xviii. 24.) 

Now St. John tells us that this very fear of coming to 
close quarters with Jesus suggested grave inferences to some 
shrewd bystanders, who asked, " Is not this He whom they 
seek to kill ? l But, lo, He speaketh openly, and they say 
nothing unto Him " (John vii. 25, 26). But whether He is 
questioned or they, it is always He who interposes with a 
reply : on their part is the same helplessness as when the 
danger was physical, the same which in the garden con- 
trasted so sharply with His self-possession, when by His 
surrender He secured their liberty to " go their way." 

No sooner do they hear of the murder of the Baptist 
than their first missionary circuit closes at once, and they 
hasten back to their Protector (Mark vi. 29, 30). 

So true are the words of the great prayer, " While I was 
with them, I kept them : . . . and I guarded them. . . . 
But now I come to Thee: ... I pray . . . that 
Thou shouldest keep them from the evil one " (John xvii. 

5. Their subordination is the least part of what we learn 
from the memorable fact that Jesus never invites them to 
join with Him in prayer, nor solicits their prayers for Him. 
The disciples are to pray the Lord of the harvest that He 
would send forth labourers, but He does not propose to lead 
them in this prayer ; on the contrary, it is at this very time 
that He continues all night in prayer alone (cf. Matt. ix. 
38, x. 1; Lukevi. 12). 

Again, when they saw Him praying they seem to have 

1 Observe the further coincidence that the people, gathered from all parts to 
the feast, said, " Thou hast a devil, who goeth about to kill Thee ? " But 
" some of them of Jerusalem " knew better (vers. 20, 25). 


felt their exclusion, and asked to be taught to pray, as John 
had taught his disciples ; and as if to rebuke them for being 
dissatisfied with the brief prayer He had already given to 
all, they received it again in a form still terser and more 
concentrated (Luke xi. 1). Sleep weighed upon them in 
the mount of transfiguration, while He prayed. In the 
garden they are bidden to watch with Him, and again to 
watch and pray, but not to pray with Him (Luke ix. 29-32 ; 
Matt. xxvi. 36-41). On the contrary, they must tarry while 
He goes farther to pray. To St. Paul, the intercessions of 
his followers were priceless ; and they who deny that the 
synoptical gospels reveal a union between Christ and the 
Father wholly different from ours have to explain this re- 
markable divorce between the prayers of Jesus and of the 

6. This task will not be lightened for them by observing 
that in other respects there exists a homely kind of intimacy, 
such as prays Him, saying, " Kabbi, eat," and with deeper 
solicitude inquires, " Lord, the Jews of late sought to stone 
Thee, and goest Thou thither again? " The remonstrance, 
"How sayest Thou, Who touched Me?" is akin with that 
in St. John, "Lord, if he is fallen asleep he will recover." 
With like freedom they interrupt His . prayerful retirement, 
because "all men seek Thee," and they ask, "Knowest 
Thou that the Pharisees were offended at this saying?" 
They desired Him to send away the multitudes because the 
place was desert and the day far spent ; and the woman of 
Canaan, because her outcry drew attention to them when it 
was desirable that they should be hid (John iv. 31, xi. 8 ; 
Luke viii. 45 ; John xi., 12 ; Luke ix. 12 ; Matt. xv. 23). 

There is something homely and interesting in their 
pointing His attention to the size of the Temple stones, just 
two days after He had predicted that one stone should not 
be left upon another. And it marks the difference between 
the region of His thought and theirs, that the day and 


almost the hour should be the same when He called the 
disciples unto Him to point out a generous widow, and 
when they came to Him for to show Him the buildings of 
the Temple. In the same familiar way they remarked to 
Him the speedy ruin of the fig tree which He had cursed 
(Mark xii. 43 ; Matt. xxiv. 1, xxi. 20). 

The same absence of restraint appears in the questions 
which they ask of Him, sometimes little more than curious, 
even when they relate to spiritual concerns. " Are there 
few that be saved?" "Dost Thou at this time restore 
again the kingdom to Israel ? " " Who did sin, this man, or 
his parents, that he was born blind? " " Speakest Thou 
these things unto us, or unto all?" (Luke xiii. 23; Acts 
i. 6 ; John ix. 2 ; Luke xii. 41.) 

A graver note was struck when they asked, " Who then 
can be saved?" "Why could we not cast it out?" 
" Why speakest Thou unto them in parables ? " " Declare 
unto us the parable of the tares." " Who is greatest 
in the kingdom of heaven?" Thus too they reopened 
privately the subject of divorce, and inferred that it was not 
good for a man to marry (Matt. xix. 25, xvii. 19, xiii. 10, 
36, xviii. 1 ; Mark x. 10 ; Matt. xix. 10). 

7. These questions prove that it was no servile dread of 
being repulsed, but awe, as in the presence of a Being from 
another sphere, which so often hashed their perplexities 
into silence. This silence moreover is most frequent when 
the rapt self-devotion of their Lord is most apparent. " They 
marvelled that He spake with a woman," yet none asked for 
an explanation, and it was among themselves that they 
inquired, "Hath any man brought Him aught to eat?" 
At His first cleansing [of the Temple, they silently recalled 
to mind that it was written, "The zeal of Thine house 
hath even eaten Me." Jesus knew that they were desirous 
to ask Him, " What is this that He saith, A little while ? " 
(John iv. 27, 33 ; ii. 17 ; xvi. 19.) 


All these examples are from the fourth gospel, hut they 
are exactly similar to what we read elsewhere ahout their 
perplexity when warned against the leayen of the Pharisees. 
When He cursed the fig tree, we read that the disciples 
heard it, evidently in silence. And at three several times, 
when warned of His approaching passion, they could not 
understand, yet feared to ask Him (Mark viii. 15 ; xi. 14 ; 
ix. 10, 32; x. 32). 

All this coherence in statement, equally between the 
synoptics and John, and between miraculous events and 
those which are admitted practically by all sides in the 
great controversy, is valuable evidence. It carries the same 
conviction which a jury feels when a witness bears the test 
of cross-examination well, a test which is all the more valu- 
able when it deals with unstudied and minute events. 
We now turn to the concerns of their spiritual life. 
8. The effect of Christ's protest against formalism, and 
His miracles upon the Sabbath, appears most naturally in 
their plucking the corn in the wheatfield and eating bread 
with unwashen hands, contrary to the tradition of " all the 
Jews" (Mark ii. 23, vii. 2). It was not unnatural that 
they should hold their new freedom with an unsteady hand. 
Yet it was strangely soon after Jesus had vindicated their 
liberty, and offended the Pharisees by declaring that man 
is not defiled by food which enters the mouth, but by evil 
words which issue thence, that they misunderstood His 
warning against the leaven of the Pharisees, and suspected 
some new ceremonialism of His institution. Their previous 
experience was what entitled Him to ask, " Do ye not yet 
perceive, neither understand ? " and again, " Do ye not yet 
understand ? " (Mark vii. 15, viii. 18, 21.) 
In ' s y a t.a h alb n t 


movement which evoked, a few years later, the passionate 
remonstrances addressed by St. Panl to Corinth and Galatia. 
How many later movements also, wherein the wilful human 
heart, ever the same amid its inconsistencies, has preferred 
the letter to the spirit, were doe to the very principle which 
underlay the first heresy of the chosen ones of Christ ! 

9. The gradual progress of their enlightenment is not 
only indicated by the mention of things which they cannot 
bear yet, and of actions which they know not now, but 
shall know hereafter (John xvi. 12, xiii. 7), but by the 
process of the narrative. 

When the miracle of Cana manifested forth His glory, 
His disciples believed on Him. Yet, when He presently 
spake of the Temple of His Body, we read that after He 
was raised from the dead His disciples remembered that 
He spake this ; and believed the Scripture, and the words 
tbat Jesus had said. They had not been hitherto incredu- 
lous of either, but now their belief attained its intelligent, 
perfect form. And at many intervening experiences they 
adored Him, " saying, Of a truth Thou art the Son of God," 
and, "Now are we sure ; ... by this we know that Thou 
earnest forth from God" (John ii. 11, 22; Matt. xiv. 33; 
John xvi. 29, 30). 

And this explains how the confession of Nathanael, lightly 
spoken at the opening of the work, became no less than a 
decisive revelation from the Father when renewed by Peter, 
in the days of bitter opposition and desertion. " Thou art 
the Son of God ; Thou art King of Israel," is not other- 
wise behind the great confession, " Thou art the Christ, 

t he liniB o " 


10. This gradual falling away of others was itself a part 
of their training. Merely to stand firm was to be confirmed, 
as the tree which has borne the storm has become more 
deeply rooted. And if there is an evident mixture of self- 
interest with their devotion, if Peter is the mouthpiece 
of all when he demands, " What shall we have therefore? " 
(Luke xviii. 28) he also speaks for all, when Jesus gives 
them the opportunity of retreat by asking, " Would ye also 
go away?" and he replies, "Lord, to whom should we go? 
Thou hast words of eternal life. And we, we have believed 
and know that Thou art the Holy One of God " (John vi. 
67-69). In this fine answer we discover the sacred hunger . 
which shall Be filled. To return to the lake and the net 
is not even considered. They must have a leader now, 
and there is no leader except One : " Lord, to whom should 
we go?" 

Their fidelity amid extreme discouragement (a grace 
which is not inconsistent with panic in the hour of the 
foe and the power of darkness) is evidently their greatest 
merit. " Ye are they which have continued with Me in My 
temptations.' ' "They have kept My word." "I guarded 
them, and not one of them perished." " These knew that 
Thou hast sent Me" (Luke xxii. 28; John xvii. 6, 12, 25). 
Even the blow which shattered their hopes did not pre- 
vent them from being a united band ; and if they believe 
not, it is for joy (Luke xxiv. 33, 41). 

11. Their failures are those of weakness, not ot ungra- 
cious hearts. Perplexity when they have no bread, drowsi- 
ness in the mount, and sleep " for sorrow " in the garden, 
natural dread in the two storms and upon the arrest of 
Jesus, failure to cast out a devil when both He and the 
foremost of their company are absent, these represent one 
aspect of human frailty, and are all exceedingly consistent 
(Mark viii. 16 ; Luke ix. 32, xxii. 45 ; Matt. viii. 25, xiv. 26 ; 
Luke ix. 40). 


Another aspect of it is betrayed in their frequent contests 
for mastery, their indignation when the sons of Salome 
covertly intrigue for the chief places, their forbidding the 
labours of one who followed not "us" (they say not, Thee), 
in their inquiry whether words of especial privilege were 
spoken to themselves alone, in their repeated failure to 
value children aright, 1 and in that reluctance to wash the 
feet of the brethren which left that lowly task for their 
Master to perform for all of them (Luke ix. 46, xxii. 24 ; 
Matt. xx. 24 ; Mark ix. 38 ; Luke xii. 41 ; John xiii. 4, 14). 

What kind of frailty was that which forsook Him in the 
garden ? Cruel things are spoken by flippant orators (who 
have perhaps never in all" their lives known real danger, 
and yet have sometimes been afraid) concerning the 
" cowardice " of the men whom Christ chose out of all 
the world. But the narrative tells us that Jesus declared 
the spirit to be willing, though the flesh was weak. Al- 
though suddenly aroused from slumber, and apparently 
weighed upon by the samfe supernatural pressure against 
which Christ wrestled, and of which He warned them, 2 yet 
they boldly confronted the great multitude of armed men, 
and "when they saw what would follow" proposed to 
"smite with the sword" (Matt. xxvi. 41; Luke xxii. 49). 
In danger they bore themselves gallantly, it was the sur- 
render that appalled them. Now the sternest nerve has 
often failed in strange and unexpected peril, and the bravest 
troo s have 'venawB io aAidfcft "We f y i e instruction 


danger confronted them in its expected forms, that we 
measure the warning given us by their example, which is 
that no arm or heart of flesh is to be trusted in the battles 
of the soul. 

12. With their frailty there was at least a touching 
consciousness of it. 

Though far from wealthy, when the danger of riches was 
announced they felt the peril within their own hearts, and 

i asked, " Who then can be saved ?" Again they appealed to 
Him, "Lord, increase our faith " (Matt. xix. 25 ; Luke xvii. 5). 
The exaggeration of their " cowardice* ' by pulpit rhetoric 

1 is scarcely less flagrant than that of their " self-confidence* ' 
at the Last Supper. Yet the conscious superiority with 
which we read their protests that they never would forsake 
their Lord should at least be mitigated by the recollection 
that they had just looked one upon another in fear, had 

I shown an artless and amiable ignorance of the real traitor, 
and had asked, in words of which the very order betrays 
their breathless eagerness, "Is it I, Lord?" 1 (Matt. xxvi. 22.) 
Their contradiction of His warning is presumptuous; but 
let us at least remember that it is the presumption of 
hearts reassured after an intolerable dread, and after the 
bitterly humiliating sense that something treacherous might 
be detected in them every one ; of hearts moreover glowing 
with loyalty to One who had few friends left, who had just 
washed their feet, and who was pouring out for them at 
that wondrous feast a flood of tender, sympathising affec- 

| tion such as never was known before. 

Is there any narrative in the world, historical or dramatic, 

di o^dtheai , rt * hi h a ater numb lashu "ste It sw P 

i dibn2xd lw drfltec o eia t ^ tta iaP 0p t rft 

iftawmteMitfo aldeoitof^ltod <*? nof o 11 ? n ee e 



pamphlets; not the production of literary artists, but of 

Galileans of the first century, working moreover in the 

harsh material of a language not their own. They have 

not to do with the idiosyncracies of one individual or 

another (these have yet to be added to the demonstration), 

but with the behaviour of a group of peasants, natural, 

generous, affectionate, willing in spirit yet weak in flesh, 

dull in their unconsciousness of the wondrous plan which 

they are helping to develop. The miraculous incidents 

agree in character with those which scepticism permits us 

to believe, and the story in the fourth Gospel teems with 

resemblances to the other three. Above all, there is no 

trace whatever of the glorifying influence of legend or 

m th. Nol sunn hdiaze of sanctified ima ination has at 




(Heb. n. 9.) 

Professor Bruce's able and interesting exposition of this 
difficult passage deserves the most respectful consideration. 
His view is that Christ was crowned by the Father with 
glory and honour in His earthly life. This honour and 
glory was just in a word His position as one appointed to 
die in behalf of others. For God to appoint " Him to an 
office in which He will have an opportunity of doing a 
signal service to men at a great cost of suffering to Him- 
£%1S ' dl f i h 1 r n .at 


conferred on Him ; Scripture says, " God spared not His 
Son." The present epistle speaks of His enduring the 
cross, despising the " shame " ; this theory speaks of God 
conferring glory upon Him by giving Him an " opportunity " 
of undergoing the shame. If this is not a " modern " idea, 
one would like to be told where to look for one. There 
is a multitude of passages which speak of the " grace of 
God " to us in appointing His Son to die, let one unequi- 
vocal one be produced which speaks of His " grace " to 
Christ in giving Him such an appointment. He was made 
a " curse " for us, being hanged upon a gibbet. 

II. A number of passages however are cited, which are 
said to be "kindred in idea." The relevancy of these 
passages is not quite apparent. 

" Blessed are they that have been persecuted for righteous- 
ness' sake." Surely their blessedness did not lie in being 
persecuted (which the analogy seems to require), nor were 
they yet in possession of their blessedness when persecuted, 
for blessedness here is not a state of mind. The whole 
sentence must be read : "for theirs is the kingdom of 
heaven," a kingdom yet " to come." The sense of such 

ae iafrn fci $e nflbom.sffire f n r ' m ^j,i 

s r eo © knoeai 

iS G, 

s bki«tosteJ|aM«ffnB^ rn 
to w H 

w ha bfih . G 


can say, " The hour is come that the Son of man should be 
glorified." The term " glorify " may in some passages be 
used proleptically, but other passages explain the meaning. 

Further, Philippians i. 29 is adduced as in point : " Unto 
you it is given as a favour, in the behalf of Christ, not only 
to believe on Him, but also to suffer for His sake." Such is 
the dignity of Christ and such are the things He has done 
for us, that it is a grace or privilege to us to be permitted 
even to suffer for His sake, as the early disciples rejoiced 
that they " were counted worthy to suffer dishonour for His 
name" (Acts v. 41), and as Moses counted His reproach 
greater riches than the treasures of Egypt. But it would 
be strange oblivion of the tone of Scripture to attempt to 
turn such passages round, and infer that it will in like 
manner be a" grace" to Christ to permit or appoint Him 
to suffer for us. To throw Christ into the scale along with 
other moral beings, and to pass a general moral judgment 
on His giving Himself to death as the act of a moral being 
among other moral beings, no respect being had to His 
Person, is to take a position " to which Scripture has hardly 
yet advanced." 

The passage 2 Peter i. 16 certainly contains the expression 
"honour and glory." To a plain reader ver. 17 seems to 
say that God bestowed honour and glory (a common phrase) 
on Christ by proclaiming with a voice from heaven, "This 
is My beloved Son." This acknowledgment of His relation 
to Him was a glory. The apostle says also that he was an 
e ewitjje s f (Hi jna" r > >h' 


to the same category as " majesty," and he refers to it to 
sustain the expectation of the power of Christ's appearing ; 
but what connexion has such honour and glory with that 
supposed to be conferred by God on Christ in appointing 
"Him to an office in which He will have an opportunity," 

These are the passages that are cited to show " that the 
crowning (as this theory conceives it) is an idea familiar 
to the New Testament writers." They do not appear to go 
very far in that direction. 

III. Dr. Brace's eminence in New Testament exegesis 
is so well known, that one can differ from him only with 
great hesitation. His exposition however of Ppaxv ™, 
which when said of mankind he understands of " degree," 
and when said of Christ of " degree " and " time," cannot 
by any stretch of courtesy be called simple or perspicuous. 
For my part, I cannot conceive a writer in one place saying 
of men that " through fear of death they were all their life- 
time subject to bondage" (ii. 15), and in another place 
saying of them that they are "made a little (in degree) 
lower than the angels," and therefore I have no doubt that 
the apostle used the phrase " a little " always in the 
temporal sense. More important however is the following 
point. It cannot be denied that the apostle refers to two 
conditions of mankind — their present condition, and their 
future one, when over the world to come ; and to two con- 
ditions of Christ — His earthly life, and His state of exalta- 
tion ; and that he draws a parallel between the two pairs, 
the parts of which correspond to one another, because it 
was necessary for Christ to go through the life and destiny 
of man along its whole line, to enable man to reach 
that which was destined for him. Now it is certain that 
" crowned with glory and honour," when spoken of man- 
kind, refers to their future place in the world to come ; but 
according to this theory, when spoken of Christ it refers to 


His life in this world. There is no parallel between Him 
and us ; what is predicated of us in our condition of perfec- 
tion is predicated of Him in His condition of abasement. It 
is no answer to this to say that the " glory and honour " of 
Christ on earth is of course prolonged into His exalted state 
and intensified. The point is, that by bringing His " glory " 
forward into His earthly life, the parallel between it and 
our earthly life is dissolved. There is no longer a parallel, 
but a contrast. 

IV. The distinction between the scriptural conception 
and the conception of this theory is quite plain. The 
Scripture writers fasten their attention on the plain 
historical facts connected with Christ as these appeared in 
their natural meaning to the ordinary judgment of men — 
on His exalted dignity from which He descended, on His 
abasement, the contradiction of sinners, the pains of death. 
This was in their view " shame," " weakness/' a " hum- 
bling" of Himself. With the realistic concrete judgment 
natural to them they consider all this the deepest abase- 
ment, and they set it in sharp contrast to the " glory " to 
which He was exalted, which they conceive in a manner 
equally realistic. In neither case is their language in the 
least figurative, but always literal. It would have seemed 
to them 1 ' yp.n " ' 


of the world. They, as well as- the modern mind, pass a 
moral verdict on Christ's act, or, rather, on Christ Himself, 
but they do not use the word "glory" in regard to it. 
They say, " Worthy is the Lamb ! " and He is worthy 
because that to which He subjected Himself was and 
remained "shame." 

This modern theory moves on different lines. Its origin 
is probably this. First, a moral judgment is passed on 
Christ's act in giving Himself for others, and expressed in 
figurative language. In the ethical sphere, in the judgment 
of all moral beings, His act (to use figurative language) was 
a thing most glorious. Then the fact is reflected upon that 
it was God who put Him in the place where He performed 
this act ; and the inference is drawn that God crowned Him 
with glory by appointing " Him to an office in which He 
will have an opportunity of doing a signal service to men at 



Scripture writer ever expressed his own sense of the moral 
worthiness of this act by such terms as " glorious " or 
" exalted "? 

The only question that could arise is, whether the writer 
to the Hebrews agrees in his phraseology with the other 
writers. There is no reason to suppose that he differs. 
When he says of Christ that "He hath been counted 
worthy of more glory than Moses " (iii. 3), he refers to His 
glory in heaven. So (I believe) he does when he says that 
"He glorified not Himself to be made a high priest* ' 
(v. 5). He does not speak of the high-priestly office in the 
abstract, nor as exercised on earth ; he speaks of it under 
the complexion which it has as exercised in heaven. In 
other words, he agrees with all the New Testament writers 
in regarding Christ's Messianic office (or, high priesthood) 
as be<nnnin<r to be exerdidgjl ^^A 8 m l tyta s> % d^t ense 


It is from these two points of view that I propose to 
regard them : first, as the words of Israel ; secondly, as the 
words of Christ. These two points of view are indeed 
closely connected. God says of Israel (Exod. iv. 22), 
" Israel is My son, My first-born.' ' It is true that in 
Isaiah Israel is called "the servant of the Lord" 
(xli. 8, xlii. 1, etc.), but the Septuagint never allows us to 
forget that the " servant " (Tiy) is a " son " (7ra*9, cf. 
xlii. 1 with Matt. xii. 18 flf ; see also Acts iv. 27, 30, where 
St. Peter and St. John apply this word to Christ). 

Israel is God's son, inasmuch as he manifests God's 
name to the world (Isa. xlix. 3-6). He has thus a relation, 
not only of elder brother to the Gentiles, but also to all 
nature, to the whole creation. He is not only a " first- 
born among many brethren,' ' but also "a first-born of all 
creation " (Col. i. 15). 

These two thoughts may be taken as representing God's 
ideal for Israel, an ideal which was ever with Him in the 
Person of His Son, and which in the fulness of time 
blossomed on earth in the Person of Christ. These two 
thoughts, the ingathering of the Gentiles, and the up- 
lifting l of all nature into " the liberty of the glory of the 
children of God," were the central thoughts in Israel's 
three great Feasts. 

11 Ja tl wh f s $ r e a u f Id it r t 

nk s aha 


1 ptfbf n i _x ns e arete 

eTHU; & o ct e e 

o» d e 




^ JZ 




O 5 

U .*£ © © « O 

-§ * I 1 * * 
* I -S -2 1 ' * 

o +3 

^ > 

"P © 22 2 

O § > 9 ® ■& 
°i 3 o ^3 e* 

. c0 

bo ^ 

fc ° 


















* 5 

rd Cjl 

r£ pd 

O O 


M Ph m ~ 


08 © 66 

s a g » fe - 
£* 3 ** 

ft — ^, 08 © 

O ** «) O u 


a o 

. 1- 8 tS 
■8 I a - * 

53 O 

-a 9 

2 & 



g t 

ft; 5 

^ rs -S* s © m oq 

-2 P 2 • S B ?? ' 

1 5 £ '% i 

I i _ s i § 

o oj = w ,5 
3 fe 9 8 3 

* s * ^ ^ 

'2 eo ^ *7 "« 

ft ^J w " 


O ^ 

03 M 


A 0) 0J 

8« a o 

^ ■ ra . 

^ fly tS 

2 S © 
•5 ^ ±» 



The connexion of the Psalms of the Hallel with the 
Feasts will best be seen by reading them in their entirety ; 
for this purpose I offer the following translation, merely 
giving such notes as are necessary to draw out the leading 
thought of each Psalm in its connexion with the corre- 
sponding Feast in the above Table. 

The most holy Name I have represented by the symbol 
AA which gives the sound of the Hebrew n % n»» "I AM." 
I have not space to give my reasons 1 for using this symbol ; 
suffice it to say, that I regard the modern Jahve as a 
complete mistake, while every scholar feels that the word 
Lord falls very short of the Hebrew rnrr- 

Hallel, Pakt I. (Pss. cxin., cxiv.), as suxg by the Jews 
oyeb the Second Cup. 

tCf. Lightfoot, Hor. Heb. on Matt. xxvi. 27.) 

Zion*» Mo*j u iVi «"#»/. or Zioii's mother-joy on the birth of her Gentile 
children. This lValm corresponds with the Passocer (see Table), and 
i» full of the thought of the First-born. An Easter Psalm. 

1 Praise ye Yah ! 
Praise, O ye servants of AA, 
Praise ye the Xame 2 of AA. 
( 2 May the Name of AA be blessed 
I From henceforth for ever and ever. 
( 3 From the rising of the sun to his setting 
( May the Xame of AA be praised. 
i High is AA o'er all Nations ! 

His Glory above the heavens ! 
5 Who is as AA our God ? 

in Time. 

in ^pace. 

a he t T I , o*> 

That mounteth so high to be throned ! 

. m .e il . . 


The Incarna- 6 That sinketh so low to be seen ! 

ti<m - In the Heavens ! 

In the Earth ! 
Cf. MagnU 7 That raiseth the weak from the dust, 

fa* 1 - That uplifteth the poor from the dunghill, 

8 To throne them along with princes, 
E'en with His princely People ! 

9 That throneth the barren one 1 in the home, 
As a joyous Mother of children. 

Praise ye Yah ! 

SoU.— Yer. 3. The thought is identical with that of Mai. i. 11 : " For from 
the rising of the sun to his setting great its My Name among the Gentiles, and 
in every place incense is offered to My Name, and a pure offering." Must not 
this prophecy have been in our Lord's mind as He sang this birthday Psnlm 
of " a people that should be born " from His own sufferings ? Cf. Isa. xlix. 5, G. 

Note.— Vers. 7-9. These verses I would call Christ's Magnificat. In a cer- 
tain sense they apply to Israel in bo far as Israel is God's son (ircur), who by 
his sufferings brings the Gentile-world to its birth. Thus according to Isn. 
liv. 1-5, the Jewish Church is herself " the Barren one," until in pain she 
brings forth the Gentiles as her first-born. " Sing, O Barren one that hast not 
borne ; break forth into singing, and cry aloud, thou that hast not travailed : for 
more are the children of the desolate one than the children of the married one, 
saith the Lord, etc. : . . . the God of the whole earth He shall be called." 
The entire passage should be read and compared with St. Paul's argument in 
Gal. iv. 26 ff. "Life fromjlife"is the leading thought of the Spring Feasts, 
and this means life from pain. 

Ps. cxiv. 

As the previous Psalm gave the birth-pangs of a new People, so this 
gives the birth-pangs of a new Creation, and thus answers exactly to 
Feasts ii., iii., and iv. (see Table). When of old God's People came out 
of Egypt (a Paschal thought), His holiness was represented by Judah, 
which led the van (Num. ii. 3, 9), His strength by Israel. Even then 
all nature was moved (vers. 3-7) ; how much more when God Himself 
comes in His own Person (vers. 7, 8) ? Cf. Hab. iii. 

1 When Israel came forth from Egypt, 

The House of Jacob from among the Barbarians, 

2 His (i.e. God's) holiness then was Judah, 
His power was shown in Israel. 

1 Cf. Isa. liv. with Gal. iv. 27. 


3 The sea saw — then it fled ! 
Jordan rolled himself back ! 

4 The mountains skipped like rams, 
The hills like the young of the flock ! 

5 What ailed thee, sea, that thou fleddest ? 
Thou Jordan, that thou shouldest roll back ? 

6 Ye mountains, why skip ye like rams ? 
Ye hills, like the young of the flock ? 

Howmuch 7 At the presence of AA travail, thou Earth ! 

*h° r G d ^ *^ e P resence °f Jacob's God, 
comes in 8 Who turneth the rock into pools, 
Person ? The flint into fountains of water ! 

Note. — Both this Psalm and the preceding one are appointed by the Church 
for Easter Day. The LXX. in ver. 1 read h i£68v 'Io/ra^X. . . . Cf. Luke 
ix. 31, r\\v t£odov avrov, "His departure (R.V. margin), which He was about 
to accomplish at Jerusalem " (Neale). 

The question in vers. 5 and 6 is not answered. The thought is as follows ; 
If at the first Exodus (Passover), when God was revealed only in the Pillar and 
Cloud, all nature was moved, how much more when at the second Exodus 
(Passover) God Himself leads His people in person as He promised (Mic. ii. 13)! 

In the preceding Psalm we Baw the Presence (and therefore the sufferings) 
of the Son of God as giving birth to the Nations ; so in this Psalm we see that 
same Presence uplifting Nature. This latter thought was symbolized by the 
Wave sheaf of Passover and tho Wave loaves of Pentecost (see Table). I 
therefore conclude that these two Psalms, which compose the first part of the 
Hallel, were written with special reference to the Spring Feasts. 

Hallel, Part II. (Pss. cxv.-cxvni.), as sung by the 
Jews over the Fourth Cup. 

(Cf. vjivqa-avre;, Matt. xxvi. 30), answering to the Feasts 
of the Seventh Month, which all speak of death. 1 

Ps. cxv. 

The connexion of this Psalm with the Feast of Trumpets is not 
obvious at first sight ; a word of explanation must therefore be given. 
An inscription of Nebuchadnezzar (quoted by Sayce, Hib. Lect, p. 94) 

1 The connexion between the seventh month and the Sabbath of death was 
far older even than the times of Abraham, as I have shown in my Akkadian 


tells us that " on the Great Festival at the beginning of the year (i.e. 
in the seventh month), on the eighth and eleventh days of the month, the 
divine king the god of heaven and earth, the lord of heaven, descends, 
while the gods in heaven and earth, listening to him with reverential 
awe, and standing humbly before him, determine therein a destiny of 
long-ending days." This thought finds its counterpart in the Psalms, e.g. 
Ps. lxxxii. 1, *■ God hath taken His place in the assembly of the mighty 
ones (^x)t Amongst the gods (d'H^k) He is judging." I may have 
occasion to speak of this Psalm in a future paper; meanwhile I would 
remark that the blowing of Trumpets on " New Year" was as it were 
an appeal to Israel's God to take His place in Judgment on the gods 
of the heathen. Compare the taking of Jericho, also Numbers x. 9, 
u Ye shall blow an alarm with the trumpets, and ye shall be remem- 
bered before the Lord your God, and shall be saved from your enemies." 
The " Day of Trumpets " or the day of "The Memorial of the Trumpet" 
(nyn^l fn?T) was to Israel what the ,k Bow in the Cloud " was to Noah, 
it was the outward visible sign of Mercy and Truth meeting together 
in Redemption; therefore in Ps. lxxxix. 14, K>, we read, "Righteous- 
ness and justice are the base of Thy throne, Mercy and Truth go before 
Thy face. Happy is the people that know the Trumpet-sound (ny^fl).'* 
So in our present Psalm the " memorial " goes up to God " because of 
Thy mercy, because of Thy truth " (ver. 1). God answers this appeal 
(vers. 12-15), with plenteous Redemption. The Psalm may be trans- 
lated as follows : 

1 Not for our sake, A A, not for our sake, 

M , But for the sake of Thy Name grant glory, 

Truth meet. Because of Thy Mercy, because of Thy Truth. 

2 Wherefore should the heathen say, 
" Where now is their God ? " 

P.*. exxxv. 6. 3 Yet our God is in Heaven ; 
All that He willeth is done. 
Ps. exxxv. 4 Their idols are silver and gold, 
15-20. The work of the hands of man : 

5 A mouth they have, but cannot speak ; 
Eyes they have, but cannot see ; 

6 Ears they have, but cannot hear ; 

A nose the^iJiftve, but cannot sraelj^ 


Feet, yet cannot walk ; 

Xor can they utter from their throat. 

8 They that make them shall become as they, 
Even every one that putteth his trust in them. 

9 O Israel, trust in AA. : 

He is their help and their shield. 

10 O house of Aaron, trust in AA : 

He is their help and their shield. 

11 Ye fearers of AA, trust in AA : 

He is their help and their shield. 

God has ful-12 A A has become mindful of us. He will bless, 

® He will bless the house of Israel, 
promise of 

Xum.x. P. He will bless the house of Aaron, 

13 He will bless the fearers of AA, 
The least along with the greatest. 

14 May AA add unto you, 

Unto you and unto your children. 1 

15 Blessed be ye of A A, 

The Maker of heaven and earth. 2 

16 The heavens are the heavens of AA, 

And the earth He gave for the children of men. 

17 It is not the dead that praise Yah, 
Not they all that go down into silence, 

18 But we, — we will praise Yah, 
From henceforth, for ever and ever. 

Praise ye Yah ! 

Note.— The Day of Trumpets is the pledge of the final Daj of Atonement. 
Israel sounds with the Trumpet, and God is •• mindful " of him, and deliver 
him (cf. Ps. xlvii. 6); but Zechariah says that, in the time to come, "the Lord 
God shall sound with the Trumpet'' (Zech. ix. 14). The Jews themselves have 
interpreted this to signify that the former deliverances were not final, but that 
in the days of the Messiah "I am going to redeem you by Myself, and then 
shall ye never more be brought in bondage." (See the whole context in my 
translation of the Yalkut on Zechariah, pp. 53, 54.) ** On New Year men are 
redeemed from the Angel of death " (Yalkut, I.e.) ; this explains vers. 17 and 

1 Cf. Dent. i. 11, Moses' blessing. 

- Cf. Gen. xiv. 10, Mclchizedek's blessing. 


18 of our Psalm. According to a Jewish tradition, the Hallel was not used on 
the Day of Atonement, because of the deep solemnity of the day ; neither was it 
used on the Feast of Trumpets, because then " the King sits upon His throne, 
and the books of Life and the books of Death are opened " (Mischna, Bosh 
Hatch ami, vii. 4). Be this as it may, the thoughts of the Feast of Trumpets 
and of the Day of Atonement are certainly represented in the Psalms of the 

Ps. cxvi. (cf. Day of Atonement in Table). 
Israel, though a son, learns obedience (i.e. love, ver. 1, and faith, 
ver. 10) by the things that he suffers. The very darkness is only 
background for the rainbow. Cf. Heb. v. 7. 

1 I love — for A A hears 
My supplicating voice, 

2 For to me He bath lent an ear ; 
So I call (to Him) all my days. 

3 Pangs of Death enveloped me, 
Straits 1 of Hell gat hold upon me : 

4 Anguish and grief (alone) I find. 
Then I call on the Name of A A, 
" Oh now, AA, deliver my soul/' 

[Cf. " My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass 
away from Me : nevertheless, not as I will, but 
as Thou wilt " (Matt. xxvi. 39).] 

5 Gracious is AA, and Eighteous : 

r s s e to& sn u 

ft a? due 9 ma 




10 I believe — for I can say, 

" As for me, I was greatly afflicted ; 

11 As for me, I thought in my panic, 
'All man's estate is a lie. 1 " 

12 What return can I make to AA 

For all His kindness He hath wrought l upon me? 

13 The Cup of Salvations 3 1 lift, 
And I call on the Name of A A. 

14 My vows to A A I can pay, 

In the presence of all His people. 

[Cf. " My Father, if this cannot pass away, except I 
drink it, Thy will be done " (Matt. xxvi. 42)/ 

15 Right dear in the sight of AA is the death of His 


16 Oh now AA ! surely I am Thy Servant, 

I am Thy Servant, the son of Thine handmaid ; 
Thou hast undone my fetters. 

17 The sacrifice of thanksgiving I sacrifice to Thee, 
And I call on the Name of A A. 

18 My vows to A A I can pay f 

In the presence of all His people ; 

[Cf. "A third time, saying the same words : ' (Matt, 
xxvi. 44).] 

10 In the Courts of the House of AA, 
In the midst of thee, O Jerusalem. 
Praise ye Yah ! 

Note. — Ver. 1. \Vhether these words be the words of Israel or of Christ, the 
rnth . n I 
l fs .t x *j _a _h fs. . b, m _ "] 


<St. John xiii. l f R.V., marg.). This verse of the Psalm should be carefully 
compared with the 10th verse ; see below. 

Note. — The three times repeated refrain (vers. 4, 13, 17) proves the Psalm to 
be a whole. The three ** cries " may be compared with the thrice repeated cry 
of Gethsemane (Matt. xxvi. 3&-41). The first is the saddest, as in the Gospel. 

It is impossible to read vers. 3 and 4 of oar Psalm without being reminded 
of Him " who in the days of His flesh, having offered up prayers and supplica- 
tions with strong crying and tears unto Him that was able to save Him out of 
death, and having been heard for His godly fear, though he was a Son, yet 
learned obedience by the things which He suffered " (Heb. v. 7, 8). The two 
last " cries ? ' (vers. 13, 17) come after the full acceptance of " the Cup of 
Salvations" (ver. 13) ; the reader will observe that the refrain has now become 
a joy, just as the prayer does in Gethsemane. 

Bnt though the Psalm is a whole, the break before ver. 10 is most impor- 
tant to be observed. The words " I believe " (ver. 10) exactly answer to •* I 
lore " (ver. 1). The tenses would, in Greek, have been i)erfccts. In both cases 
the love and the faith are the very outcome of the suffering ; compare St. 
Paul's quotation of ver. 10 in 2 Cor. iv. 13 with context. 

If, as I believe, the whole Psalm was written for the Day of Atonement, we 
might well suppose Part I. {i.e. vers. 1-0) to have been sung before tbe High 
Priest entered the Holy of Holies, and Part II. (i.e. vers. 10 to end) to have 
welcomed his reappearance *' apart from sin, unto salvation " (Heb. ix. 28). 

Ps. (XVII. 

A prophecy of the conversion of the Gentiles in the times of the 
Messiah. So Kimchi and St. Paul (Rom. xv. 9-11). See Scale's 
Commentary. The birth of the Gentiles results from the *' pangs of 
Messiah/ 5 This Psalm is to the Autumn Feasts what Fs. cxiii. is to 
the Spring Feasts. 

1 Praise AA, all ye Gentiles ; 
Extol Him, all ye Peoples. 

2 For His Mercy hath prevailed over us ; 
And the Truth of A A is eternal, 

Praise ye Yah ! 



.-\h y. 










, nT 


I 1 


\ SA t 


t t 


Cj ( . 







H J 






n i 




h . 




Ps. CXVI1I. 

A Psalm of Tabernacles (sec Table). The suffering Son of God is 
victorious over Death and Hell, and enters on the Fruits of Victory, 
being acknowledged as Xing by all Creation. An Easter Psalm. 

r i Give thanks unto AA ; for (He) is good ; for 
His mercy is eternal, 

2 Let now Israel say, 
" for His mercy is eternal." 

3 Let now the House of Aaron say, 
"for His mercy is eternal." 

4 Let the fearers of AA say, 
" for His mercy is eternal." 

The Son 5 In straits I called upon Yah, 

srae ' In largeness Yah gave me His answer. 




6 AA is mine ; I will not fear : 
What can man do unto me ? 

7 AA is mine ! among my helpers ! 
Then as for me I'll look upon my foes. 

8 Better it is to shelter in AA 

1 Than to put confidence in man. 

9 Better it is to shelter in AA 
Than to put confidence in princes. 

The Son 10 All nations encompassed me round, 
Christ) 'Tis * n -4^'s Name that I foil 1 them. 

speaks. \\ They compassed, yea, compassed me round : 
'Tis in AA's navie that I foil l them. 
12 They compassed me round like plagues, 1 
They flared like a fire of thorns : 

*Tis in AA's name that I foil them. 
13 Thou didst thrust me well nigh unto falling : 
But AA hath helped me. 

1 Heading uncertain. 




The Son 

14 My strength and my song is Yah ; 
And He hath become my Salvation. 

/15 A shout of joy and Salvation 

Bings through the tents of the righteous : 
The right hand of AA hath wrought might ! 

16 The right hand of AA hath been raised ! 
The right hand of AA hath wrought might ! 

17 I shall not die, but shall live, 
And shall tell out the works of Yah. 

18 Yah did indeed chasten me sore : 
But not unto death did He give me. 

19 Open for me the gates of Bighteousness : l 

I will enter by them, I will give thanks to Yah*. 

j 20 This is the Gate — that belongs to AA ; 
I The righteous may enter thereby. 

TheSon(Is-21 I thank Thee, for that Thou hast heard me, 
rae , ins ) ^^ ^^ k ecome m j ne f or salvation. 


/22 A stone that the builders rejected 

Hath become the chief-stone of the corner ! 

23 From AA (Himself) hath this come to pass ; 
And it is wondrous in our eyes. 

24 This is the Day that AA hath made ; 
Let us joy and rejoice therein. 

Chorus. ^ 25 Ana* AA, JToshiana, 
A?za, A A, Hatzlichawa. 
2G Blessed is the Coming One in the Name of AA: 

We bless you from out of the House of AA. 
27 AA is God, and gives us light, 

Proclaim 3 the Feast with the Branches, 
\ Even up to the horns of the Altar. 

1 In late Hebrew p1¥ is used almost in the sense of " victory." 

2 A mystical name of God, the origin of which I have shown in my Akkadian 
Genesis. . 3 Vulg. " Constitute diem iolemnem." 


The Son (28 My God (EZ), Thou art, and I thank 

(Israel, ) 

Christ) 1 inee. 

speaks. (. My God (Elohim), I extol Thee. 
Chorus. 29 Give thanks unto AA; for (He) is good: for 
His mercy is eternal. 

Xole.—Xer. 12. The present text reads DH!n, "bees" ; for which I suggest 
D*°lin, as in Hos. xiii. 14, " I will be thy plagues, O Death/' 

In the plague-legends of Chaldea, Deber, " the plague," is often personified, and 
is usually connected with " the Burner." There are traces of this thought in 
the Old Testament, e.g. Hab. iii. 5, " Before Him went the plague (Deber), 
and the Burner (^CH) went forth at His feet " (see Versions). In our present 
Psalm the contest has been, not with bee3, but with Death. It is indeed the 
fulfilment of Hosea xiii. 14. 

Note. — Ver. 20. This verse is, I think, best explained by Ezek. xliv. 1-4. 
" And he brought me back toward the gate of the Sanctuary outside, which faces 
east ; and it was shut. And AA said unto me, This gate shall be shut, not 
opened, and none shall enter by it, because AA, the God of Israel, hath entered 
by it : and thus it hath become closed. The Prince however, inasmuch as he 
is a Prince "and therefore a type of Messiah], he shall sit therein to eat bread 
before AA." Compare also xlvi. 1-3 and xliii. 4. This Gate is "the new 
and living way"-(Heb. x. 19). But after Messiah (the Prince) has entered 
thereby He can say, " Open ye the gates, that the righteous nation which keepeth 
the truth may enter in " (Isa. xxvi. 2). 

Xotet. — This Psalm is generally admitted to have been written for the Feast of 
Tabernacles. That great feast gathered in all the thoughts of the great Sabbath- 
month. The seventh month (Autumnal Equinox) spoke, even to the Baby- 
lonians, of the death and resurrection of the year. The branches (cf. ver. 27) 
carried at this Feast were a memorial of the fruits of the earth, and especially 
the vintage, now gathered in. These branches were chosen from water-loving 
trees. Thus, in the Order of the Hosannah Rabba, the Jews still pray, 

" Answer those that cry with the four water trees.'' 

(d*d *te* mro d^nib> nxn) 

I.e. the Palm, Citron, Myrtle, and Willow. 

The reason for this choice was, I think, because one of the leading thoughts of 
the Feast was Prayer for Rain, upon which the fruits of the opening year 
depended. But the tree which represented the mystical Israel was especially 
"the Vine of David." The earliest passage is Isa. v. 1: "Love (HI*?) had a 
vineyard," etc., where Vulgate reads vinea. Again, Ps. lxxx. (lxxix.) 8 ff 
1 * Thou didst bring a Vine out of Egypt. . . . The mountains were covered 
with its shadow. . . . Look from heaven, behold, and visit this Vine, and 
the Branch that Thy right hand hath planted and the Scion (p) which Thou 
hast made strong for Thyself." Here again the Vulgate uses vinea for )§3 just 
as for D"13 in Isa. v. 1. In the Order of the Hosannalis the following passage 
occurs, which clearly proves that Isa. v. 1 ff was regarded as a mystical allusion 
to th Vine of David. " As Thou didst save the Wine- r si 

1 8 



difficult for Salkinson, who would eschew the phrase niHi 
13NJ as non-biblical. 

In April, 1855, an attempt had already been made by 
Salkinson to produce a new translation of the New Testa- 
ment. A specimen of such a rendering was published 
under the title, The Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the 
Roman* translated into Hebrew. I gave expression to my 
opinion of it in my monograph of 1870, entitled, Paulus 
des Apostels Brief an die Romer in das Hebriiische uebersetzt 
und aus Talmud und Midrasch erliiutert. In that paper I 
heartily admitted the masterly style of this Hebraist, but 
took exception to his method of translation in aiming too 
much at a biblical elegance and classical diction, and so 
leadin to t^jpse of ]hrases ha di flp a t li rail repigr 


plays of Shakespeare would not be able easily to bring him- 
self to take the place of a worker under me. I have the 
letter which he then wrote me, inclosing a new translation 
of the first chapter of the Epistle to the Eomans, which has 
not before been published, although the reckless way in 
which this " beautiful Hebrew New Testament " has been 
eulogised might have tempted me to make it known. An 
article in the January number of the Quarterly Becord of 
the Trinitarian Bible Society for 1886 quoted a Jewish 
opinion, according to which " the work of Delitzsch, in com- 
parison with the work of Salkinson, is like a miserable tent 
compared with the palaces of kings " ! 

Quite another spirit was shown by Salkinson in his criti- 
cism of my work. He admitted the force and importance 
of the principles on which I proceeded, and claimed only 
recognition of the relative value of his own divergent views 
upon the question. The letter will be thoroughly satis- 
factory and conclusive with all who are really acquainted 
with the subject, as showing clearly the special character- 
istics of the two translations and affording ample materials 
for forming a judgment. I give it here without alteration 
or abridgment. 

" 35, Reiyner St., Landstrasse, Vienna, 
June llth, 1877. 
" My dear Sir, — 

" I was on the point of answering your kind letter, besides giving an 
explanation in anticipation of yonr question on the card, and waited only 
for the inclosed specimen, which I got just now. "With regard to your 
query, you will remember, after your publication of the Epistle to the 
Romans, that 1 offered you my co-operation in continuing and carrying 
out the version ; but you then informed me that you had the materials 
of the whole book already, which required only correction and revision. 
Accordingly, out of the high respect and true Christian affection which 
I cherish for you, I made a self-denying resolution, and determined to 
let you have the whole field free. When I recently saw a statement to 

• " »• i 1 


come to gratify my old desire. It so happened that just then a friend 
of the committee of the British Society proposed that I should be 
employed in writing a Talmudic Christology. I answered that I 
would prefer first to make a new Hebrew version of the New Testa- 
ment. To this the committee agreed, and I now commenced my task 
with the epistles. My plan is to take a good share of liberty in regard 
to words and phrases, and to be faithful only to the sense and spirit of 
the text, which must neither be added to nor taken from in anything. 
Its principle is that of the maxim, ' The letter killeth, but the spirit 
giveth life,' and so I hope to be able to make a tolerably pure Hebrew 
version. There will of course be a few exceptions, like the abstract 
noun KJV» H?,' which you find in the'specimen, and other words of a like 
nature ; but they will not affect the whole. 

"You are perfectly correct in saying that when the New Testament 
writers wrote their Greek they had still the Hebrew of their day in 
mind; but then I want to translate the sense and not to use the words: 
and so, when I find the apostles writing diro fcWo-to? K6<rpov, I render it 
by the idiomatic phrase &)&?) I£K &h?:QD\'. Now the apostle him- 
self can have no objection to see his idea expressed in good old 

" I confess to you too, that the man to whom the gospel has become 
the power of salvation will prefer a literal translation, just as he would 
prefer that a love-letter sent to him in an unknown tongue should be 
rendered to him verbatim. But we must remember that our New 
Testament is intended chiefly for our unconverted brethren. There- 
fore it may be of some service to have it in a style which the Jews 
have not yet forgotten to appreciate, that is, the biblical Hebrew. 

" In the inclosed specimen you will see at a glance what kind of 
liberty I take : nj"rW3$?0 for apostleship. n-IDXpJp is the literal ren- 
dering, but in the absolute state it does not occur. Hence it does not 
sound pretty, and I therefore added an intensive particle FP as in 
fVl^npg', which makes no difference in the real sense. If the reader 
translates rPVn3N7D ' Divine apostleship/ he will not err, since the 
apostle himself tells us that this office he got from God. In ver. 9 
I added *&'93) to the word *nVQ, because the idiom requires that W13 
in the construction of the verse should not stand alone. Hence the 
synonymous HPM is added, which makes no alteration in the meaning. 
Now all the liberties in this chapter could be avoided, but as there 
will be places where such liberties, and even more, will be absolutely 
necessary, I therefore put forward thia chapter as a specimen, and 
would be glad to have your opinion, whether I have not overstepped 
the limits of the boundary. 

"Now I hope, as I have sympathised and do sympathise with your 
work, so will you with mine, and even encourage it if possible ; thus 


making it manifest that we have learned of the evangelists, who each 
wrote the same story, not in rivalry but to serve the same common 
Master. I would like to say a great many things, but time forbids. 

"I.E. Salkixsox." 

After Salkinson bad wellnigh concluded bis labours as a 
translator of the New • Testament, and had prepared the 
first draught of it — only the Acts of the Apostles had not 
been completed — his unexpected death brought sore be- 
reavement on his family, and put a sudden stop to the work 
that had been so dear to him. I hastened to express my 
warm sympathy for the sorrowing widow, Mrs. Henrietta 
Salkinson, and I made offer to her of my assistance. In 
reply she wrote me on June 14th, 1883, when amongst 
other things she said : " I do assure you that never in my 
dear husband's mind was there the least desire that his 
work should be made a rival of yours, but he regarded this 
work as the task of his life. I have heard him repeatedly 
say, ' God has given me talent for translating, and I must 
use it for His glory.' And there are indeed in almost every 
language several translations of the New Testament, and so 
too in the Hebrew language there may surely be different 
translations existing alongside of one another, from which 
every one may choose the version that most perfectly 
satisfies his tastes and his needs." 

These are golden words, which I should like myself to 
take to heart, and shall be greatly delighted if Salkinson's 
translation should obtain numerous Jewish readers and 
should be the means of leading many to the conviction that 
Jesus Christ is Israel's noblest son, the holiest and divinest 
Man and the Servant of the Lord, who has offered Himself 
up for His people and for the whole world of sinners ; and 
sn csa w aro "d n ial cir umstance a csaci s i - 


acknowledge that the discovery of the imperfections of my 
own work has been greatly increased since the year 18S5. 
Yet at the same time I am still thoroughly convinced of 
the soundness of the principle which I followed in my 
translation of rendering the New Testament into Hebrew 
of such a kind as the sacred writers would themselves have 
employed had they thought and written in Hebrew. There 
are several passages, though the number is by no means 
great, in which Salkinson has made in his version what we 
might style a more happy hit. Nevertheless continued 
study of the New Testament and of biblical and post-biblical 
Hebrew, especially of the Hebrew syntax, and the careful 
consideration of critical reviews which in rich abundance lie 
before me, have led me ever more and more to the humbling 
conclusion that I am still very far short of reaching the ideal 
of a Hebrew counterpart of the Greek New Testament. 

A new reprint of the 32mo edition of my work has just 
now appeared. Although the edition has been electrotyped, 
I have been able to make various improvements in it by 
having some plates recast and occasional corrections made 
in some of the other plates. Including the octavo edition, 
which appeared in the year 1885, this new 32mo edition 
may be reckoned the ninth. The octavo edition has not 
been electrotyped, and it is to be followed by a tenth edition, 
for which Hebrew types more in accordance with the national 
pattern than those previously employed will be provided. 
It is my earnest prayer that God may preserve my life so 
long that I may be able to give expression to my most mature 
convictions in this tenth edition. It will be not merely a 
revision of my translation, but a new translation. 

And now I shall point out a few instances to show how 
much still remains to be done in order to the perfect per- 
formance of the task, and only as a preliminary example I 
-arKrr^b . lcdtGiWthatttfet aaiLS r' Kato-a s i , 

I i n 


translation as well as that of Salkinson's, with two striking 
exceptions, in Luke iii. 5, Philippians iv. 22, renders this 
Kalaap by ID^n. But as in the New Testament Greek 
this word Kalaap is always found without the article, and is 
therefore treated as a self-determining proper name, so it 
would seem that the Hebrew "ID^p in the Talmud and 
Midrasch is also always employed without the article. In 
every case then the article should be removed. But how will 
this principle affect such a phrase as D^Dttf JTQTO ? In the 
case of these two words we find that in the oldest synagogal 
literature D^DtP has not the article, whereas in my trans- 
lation, as well as in Salkinson's, the phrase is throughout 
written D^D^H JTD^D. Is the article also in this instance 
to be dispensed with? We shall seek to answer this 

question in our next paper. 

Fbanz Delitzsch. 


The inscriptions which constitute the foundation of this 
study belong to what is, as a general rule, the least interest- 
ing and the least important class of ancient epigraphic re- 
mains — the commonplace epitaph. In the epitaphs of Asia 
Minor especially a dreary monotony is the rule. A number 
of formulas are stereotyped, and long series of inscriptions 
repeat one or other of them with very little variety beyond 
that of names and dates. During my first journeys in Asia 
Minor these wearisome epitaphs were a severe trial to my 
patience, and it seemed almost useless to take the trouble 
of copying them. Time was precious, and work was press-; 
ing, and it was hard to waste minutes or hours in getting 
access to and copying such uninteresting and valueless 


epitaphs. Frequently when an inscription was reported, 
I got its appearance described, and if the description 
showed that it was an epitaph declined to waste time in 
hunting it up, a process which sometimes involves the 
expenditure of considerable diplomacy, time, and money. 
In many of the Christian epitaphs, the fact that they are 
Christian constitutes the sole interest. Otherwise they 
hardly differ except in the personal names from dozens of 
their neighbours. But I trust to have shown by the 
examples already quoted that even from this most despised 
class of documents intelligent study may derive some im- 
portant historical conclusions. Varieties of style and for- 
mula have been shown to spring from difference in religious 
training and in social circumstances, and two distinct tides 
of Christianizing influence, differing in character, have 
been traced. When Christianity became supreme these 
provincial differences were proscribed and rapidly dis- 
appeared, but it is a distinct gain to know that they ever 
existed. The Church of north-western Phrygia has been 
traced, by a hypothesis which has in its favour antecedent 
probability and a certain amount of positive indications, 
to a Bithynian origin, and it has been shown that the 
Bithynian l tradition assigned the beginning of Christianity 
in that country to the visit paid by Paul and Silas to the 
Troad. 3 The origin of the other stream of Christianizing 

1 I have assumed the genuineness of the famous disputed letter of Trajan 
about the Bithynian Christians : it appears to me that the criticism directed 
upon it has only proved more conclusively that it must be genuine. It forms 
no part of my task to discuss sUch points, and the same remark which has been 
made about Trajan's letter may be applied to some other documents, which I 
have already quoted or may quote below. 

2 Without contending that the tradition, mentioned already (The Expositor, 
October, 1888, p. 264), of the visit paid by Paul and Silas to the country 
between Cy/ieus and the fthyndacus is really very ancient in origin, I may 
mention that the natural way for them to go from Phrygia and Galatia to the 
Troad (Acts xvi. 6-8) would be through this district, and that the tradition 
also agrees with the recorded history in not making them appear east of the 
Bhyndacus in the Roman province of Bithynia. 


influence in central and southern Phrygia cannot be doubt- 
ful. Antecedent probability is that this influence proceeds 
from the valley where Laodiceia, Colossae, and Hierapolis 
lie ; and the documentary evidence is most abundant and 
characteristic in the districts which lie immediately east 
and north-east of that valley, and grows less distinctive 
and approximates more and more to the general type of 
Christian documents, as we go farther away. Thus the 
second and chief stream of Christianizing influence also is 
traced back to St. Paul, from whom the Churches of 
Laodiceia and Colossse derived their origin. 

It will be best to devote one of these articles to a 
description of the local limits and of the characteristics 
of the Church of central and southern Phrygia. But before 

a e ?? a in t this *% sk ^WH^cHF e % &&&** one 0|l ee-c e ed 

!iSs 5 1 t . a n mo se i x . fs e f h 


small parts of a great mass of evidence, which he looks at 
with eyes already habituated to a certain view of the sub- 
ject. The archaeologist, on the other hand, is penetrated 
with the belief that each new document is an end in itself. 
He has the conviction that all of them are redolent of 
the soil and atmosphere where they were produced. He 
familiarizes himself with the tone and colour and spirit of 
the country, brings himself as much as possible under the 
influence of its scenery and atmosphere, and tries to realize 
in full vividness the surroundings in which and the feelings 
with which the documents that he has to interpret were 
composed and engraved. I believe that one can hardly 
insist too strongly on the influence of nature over the 
human spirit in Phrygia. There is no country where the 
character of the land has more thoroughly impressed itself 
on the people, producing a remarkable uniformity of type 
in the many races which have contributed to form its popu- 
lation. A tone of melancholy, often of monotony, in the 
landscape, combined with the conditions of agriculture, 
whose success or failure seems to depend very much on 
the heavens and very little on human labour, produced a 
subdued and resigned tone in its inhabitants, a sense of 
the overpowering might of nature, and a strong belief in 
and receptivity of the Divine influence. The archaeologist 
who would understand or interpret the unused historical 
material in Asia Minor must saturate himself with the 
spirit and atmosphere of the * country ; and though I feel 
how far short I fall of the ideal, yet this is the spirit in 
which I should wish to write. It must be remembered 
that, in thus studying a single group of documents apart 
from the general evidence bearing on the subject, there is 
always a danger of straining their interpretation, and I 
cannot hope to have wholly escaped this danger. 

The obscure and ill-composed epitaph which was pub- 


lished above as No. 12, 1 appears to me, with all its miserable 
Greek, to be one of the most instructive of the Phrygian 
documents in regard to the tone of the early Christians to 
their leaders, and I have therefore added the Greek text 
in a footnote, inasmuch as no translation can ever fairly 
represent an ancient document. The writer of this epitaph 
was full of the same feeling which led the Phrygians of 
the Pentapolis to style their hero of the second century 
" the equal of the apostles." The leaders and preachers 
of Phrygia were felt by their converts and disciples to be 
really the successors of the apostles, and their people 
entertained for them all the respect and veneration (and we 
may be sure paid them the unhesitating obedience) which 
breathes through the title and the epitaph which have just 
been quoted. Under what actual name these great leaders 
exercised their authority, I cannot presume to decide : this 
is a point which must be determined by the Church his- 
torians; but, as I said above, the scanty evidence seems 
to me to point to the conclusion that the title " bishop " 
was not in ordinary use in the early Phrygian Church. So 
far as I can presume to hold an opinion the leader and 
"equal of the apostles" exercised his supreme and im- 
plicitly accepted authority under the humble title of pres- 
byter : he was one among a number, and the wide authority 
which he exercised depended on personal ascendency, and 
was not accompanied by any distinguishing official name 
and express rank. The two typical cases in the second 
century are Avircius and Montanus. The former is in later 
history called Bishop of Hierapolis, and it is quite clear 

i 'AxuXay ira0o/>£s [*a]Wx[«» £]M«]» $ TO * ° rt/ifiot 
. . . w 0€ov dvyeXoit re icoOifrto, 
Aaov Tcpocrdiievov, vSfitp r [A] SUca (ppovdv 
"Bp$t [i.e. 1}\dc] H dwfia deov ft§[y]as rcu/uur [t ] &r&iravffiv. 
In line 3 <ppop£p has been substituted for <ppovovvra> which would give better 
syntax and better metre, and perhaps W was intended instead of £eW. raipaU 
apparently for tijjums : fiiras engraved for fUya.%. The rest of the epitaph does 
not bear on our subject. 



that he exercised a personal ascendency which perhaps 
surpassed that of the later bishops ; bnt the natural con- 
clusion from the only reference to him in literature, viz. 
the dedication of the tractate against Montanism by his 
fellow presbyter, 1 is that he was usually styled presbyter. 
More is known about Montanus, but the evidence is dis- 
torted by the -prejudice and hatred cherished against a 
leader, who was held to have betrayed the cause and to 
have become an apostle of evil. But there can be no doubt 
that Montanus considered himself to be the apostle of 
light, and that his character, position, and influence were 
analogous to those of the other leaders who made the 
Church of Phrygia, and whose memory has not been kept 
alive by the brand of heresy. There is not the slightest 
evidence or even probability that Montanus was ever 
styled bishop. The opinion is now general that Montanus 
represented the old school of Phrygian Christianity, as 
opposed to the organized and regulated hierarchical Church 
which was making Christianity a power in the world, and 
that "the chief opponents of the Montanists were the 
bishops." * The very name Kataphryges, which was given 
to his followers, shows that he was considered to be a 
representative of the old Phrygian spirit and custom. 

Th6 bishops however won the day; Phrygian custom 
and the individuality of the Phrygian Church were sacrificed 
to the uniformity of the Church Catholic. Everything 
known about the later organization of the Phrygian Church 

1 The anonymous author flpeaks of " our fellow presbyter, Zoticus of Otrous." 
Otrous was a town about three miles west of Hierapolis, where Avircius lived. 
It seems to me that only prepossession can make suoh a writer as Bonwetsch, 
after quoting this passage, use it as an argument that Avircius was, actually 
called bishop. The author also addresses him by the respectful phrase & fioucdpte. 
The interpretation advocated above, that Avircius had the authority and per- 
sonal influence of an " equal of the apostles/ 1 but only the title of presbyter, 
seems to explain the evidence of this tractate, and to show why a man who 

e d exer ised a e 1 c ^ o n> 
on r e. a 


Bhows that it was framed according to the civil organization : 
every city had its bishop, and the bishop of each provincial 
metropolis exercised a certain authority over the bishops of 
the cities in his province. No other crisis in the Phrygian 
Church is known when this organization is likely to have 
been substituted for the old, looser system of personal 
authority and influence. One who approaches the subject 
of Church organization after studying the civil organization 
of the Anatolian provinces, and who sees the two coinciding 
with each other as far back as the records reach, is forced 
to' the conclusion that it originated when the Phrygian 
Church was brought into conformity and closer union with 
the Church in general, i.e. at the Montanist controversy 
following after a.d. 160. 

The bishops indeed won the day, but they did not succeed 
in making Phrygia thoroughly orthodox, or in putting their 
system into the hearts of the whole people. We should 
be glad to find some traces of the true character and tone 
of Montanism, as described by those who came under its 
influence. If something was gained in power and unifor- 
mity, something also was lost in fervour, by the proscribing 
of Montanism as a heresy; and the Church in Phrygia 
certainly ceased to be the Church of Phrygia. Complaints 
of the heterodoxy and abominable heresies of Phrygia are 
common in later times. In the scanty records of its history 
frequently some slight detail suggests that underneath the 
orthodox hierarchy of bishops another religious system, 
which lies deeper, gives an occasional sign of its existence. 

But it eludes our search ; the sign, too unsubstantial a 

1 e . t • • n a J -t 


Montanus was no bishop, bat he exercised a practically 
boundless influence over his followers, and he preserves to 
us the earlier character of the Phrygian Church. The 
name however under which authority is exercised is imma- 
terial ; the important fact is that widespreading authority 
and influence of individual teachers is the character of the 
early Phrygian Church. The Phrygian Church gradually 
organized itself on the model of the civil organization ; but 
on the whole the change is in the direction of breaking 
up the more wide-reaching ascendency of the old leaders. 
The tendency of the early Byzantine policy in central Asia 
Minor was to break up the wide territories of the great cities 
by raising villages or small subject towns to the dignity 
of independent cities, and the principle was expressly 
laid down that every city should have its own bishop, an 
exception being made by Justinian in the case of Isauro- 
polis, which, probably on account of its proximity, was to 
remain under the authority of the Bishop of Leontopolis. 1 
In some cases *the Church resisted the principle that civil 
division should cause ecclesiastical division also, but as a 
general rule the former was followed as a matter of course 
by the latter. After much examination and many various 
v a la t eeh ri n h 


I have frequently mentioned the north-western Phrygian 
Church as being originally distinct in character from and 
unconnected with the rest of Phrygia. No one who reads 
over the first of these articles, and notes the connexion 
there described between Kotiaion and the country of the 
Prepenisseis, can fail to be struck when the fact comes 
before him that in many ecclesiastical lists Kotiaion and the 
country of the Prepenisseis are separated from the rest of 
the province, and the bishops of the district placed under 
the authority of a separate archbishop. 1 I have also argued 
elsewhere that the omission of Kotiaion from the list of 
Hierocles is to be explained because he was greatly under 
the influence of the ecclesiastical lists, which did not 
class Kotiaion under Phrygia, but reckoned it as auto- 
kephalous and subordinate only to the Patriarch of Con- 
stantinople and not to the metropolitan of the province. 
The only addition which I have now to make to the 
reasoning given in the Cities and Bishoprics of Phrygia,* 
is to connect this independence of the Bishop of Kotiaion 
with the old religious separation between this part of 
Phrygia and the rest of the province. A parallel case may 
be found in Pontus. Euchaita does not occur in Hierocles, 

1 In Notitia Episcopatuum iii., x., xiii., the Metropolitan of Kotiaion has 
subject to him the bishops of Spore, Kone, and Gaioa Kome. In my Cities 
and Bishoprics, § xc. to xcv., I have shown (long before the point which I am 
now explaining occurred to me) that these three bishoprics lie on the roads 
south-east of Kotiaion, the first and third being in the territory of the tribe 
Prepenisseis, the third being on its border and perhaps partly in it also. 

8 A writer in the Church Quarterly for July, 1888 (p. 809), whose generous 
praise of my work has been a full reward to me for much toil, of a kind which 
I should not have voluntarily chosen, presses further than I intended my words, 
" the list of Hierocles is the list of the bishops of his time," when he under- 
stands them (and dissents rightly from them) as meaning " the synecdemus 
itself is ecclesiastical." My rather carelessly expressed sentence was not 
intended to imply more than that a list of cities is ipso facto a list of bishoprics, 
and vice versa ; I did not mean that Hierocles arranges his list as a list of 
bishoprics would be arranged. Further study however has shown me that the 
case is more complicated, and that while in most provinces his lists are identical 
with the ecclesiastical lists, in some (e.g. Hellespontus) he has used a different 
authority. He arranges the cities of Asia Minor always in a geographical order. 


destroyed by the victorious Christians, and when deeds 
similar to those of the present were attributed to the heroes 
of the past. He was arrested on the road from Laodiceia 
to Diocaesareia, 1 and a hind brought news of his arrest 
to the Bishop Sisinnius. The javelins which the governor 
ordered to be hurled at Artemon slew one of his own 
assessors. A pool, probably the actual lake of Diocaesareia, 
was produced at the prayers of the saint. Other details are 
really too grotesque and puerile for repetition. 

As the Bollandists have already labelled it, this account 
obviously belongs to the sphere of legend, not of history. 
i j e ^g A fey ne i et h I/ e ' £ y he .dhij. J e f a h.DB b ffi 

F 8 

§o § bfa „ a,4 a 10 s e % 

s L h " 9» 8 "»]£ 


to actual localities in a way which was impassible until the 
general survey of Phrygia was organized by the Asia 
Minor Exploration Committee. We may now say confi- 
dently, that the local surroundings are not fictitious, but 
reaL The legend of the origin of the lake of Diocsesareia 
must have arisen at a time when there was a tendency to 
connect natural phenomena with the history of Christian 
saints, and when therefore the veneration of saints 
possessed a strong hold on the popular mind. In the old 
p^gan time the reason for such phenomena of nature was 
fjrurd in the action of the deities, actir-n of a capricious 
kin I, and not in accordance with general principle. The 
Christians of Phrygia supplied the place of the old anthropo- 
morphic deities by the saints, who had been the champions 
cf their faith. This same process is a familiar one in the his- 
t-:ry of religion. Among the Teutonic races we find stories, 
whose details are among the earliest heirlooms of the Indo- 
European races, and which were once told about pagan 
deiries, related with only the changed personality of Christ 
and the apostles. But it must be observed that this 
explanation presupposes the existence of a widespread 
respect for the saint ; he must have been already venerated 
before the legend could arise. If we can fix a date for the 
growth of the legend, we can then say that St. Artemon 
was then and for some time before that date an object 
of general veneration in southern Phrygia and the heir to 
the legendary heritage of the pagan deities. 

Fidelity of local detail is one of the most important 
characteristics of the class of tales which is here described. 
This class of tales has grown up among the people of a 

district and has the character of eold Impend* it is 

h toeorehe £ 


where ; l the precise amount of evidence in every detail need 
not be repeated here, but should be .carefully scrutinised by 
those who wish to reach the truth. 

In the details of the legend of Artemon no sufficient clue 
is furnished as to the date of its composition. The trans- 
mitted form of one of the versions is later than a.d. 536, 
for it mentions the governor stationed at Laodiceia under 
the title comes, and Justinian in that year made a new 
arrangement of the provincial governments, and for the 
first time placed at Laodiceia a comes as governor of 
Phrygia Pacatiana. 2 But briefer accounts quoted by the 
Bollandists from Greek Mensea preserve different forms of 
the tale ; and one which speaks of the temple of iEscu- 
lapius, and of the two serpents which lived in it, seems to 
be of better character, and to show some real knowledge 
of the time when paganism was still existent, though the 
length of the serpents is exaggerated to eighty cubits. 

Some importance is to be attached to the name Caesareia. 
The native name of Diocaesareia was Keretapa. Under 
the influence of the GraBCo-Boman civilization, which was 
diffused in a very superficial way over the central provinces 
of Asia Minor, the Boman name Diocsesareia was sub- 
stituted for the vulgar Phrygian name. But this official 
term never became thoroughly popular, and after a time, 
probably as early as the fourth century, it passed out of 
use, and the native name came once more into general 
employment. The tale of Artemon preserves the recollec- 
tion of the time when DiocsBsareia was the name of the 
city. But in the later versions of the tale, which alone are 

1 See my papers on "Antiquities of Southern Phrygia and the Border 
Lands " in American Journal of Archaology, 1887-88, section on Diocaesareia 

* The same feature also proves that this version is not later than the century 
sVw. -8€immediatel followin Juslrcfa a e» <bx rft»q§w.aifnjAirl 

.n w - i . b 



preserved, the writer, having no knowledge of the localities, 
does not understand the now disused name, and substitutes 
for it the commoner form Caesareia. This slight detail 
furnishes a valuable proof of the antiquity of the story. 
It takes us back to a fourth century version, possibly 
only an oral version, in which St. Artemon was connected 
both with the small country town of Diocaesareia and 
with the seat of the Boman officials at Laodiceia, and 
in which fidelity of local details was a characteristic. 
The trial of a townsman of Diocaesareia for an offence 
against Boman law would necessarily be held at the govern- 
ment centre Laodiceia, the seat of the conventus. In all 
probability this is the only historical part now recoverable 
from the legend. The rest consists of floating popular tales, 
which gathered round the person of the popular Christian 
hero as a fixed point. 

The tale of Artemon is one of many which grew in the 
popular mind during the fourth century, and many of 
which assumed literary form during the fifth century. The 
form in which many of them are written down exhibits 
to us the historical circumstances which obtained about 
400-450 a.d. 1 The Koman officials mentioned bear the 
titles and perform the functions which belonged to officials 
of the early Byzantine empire, and which were unknown 
under the Boman empire. The tales may be taken as 
evidence of the state of society and belief during the 
period when they were written. The leading incidents 
were not invented by the person who gave literary form 
to the tales. They have the character of popular spon- 
taneous legend, arising among a people not highly 
educated, about personages whose memory was preserved 
by religious veneration and by actual Church ceremonial. 
This oint is the ke '- tone afbthe ie hich ie ihttee .oide 


expressed. The permanence and unalterableness of re- 
ligious ritual, as distinguished from the fluctuation of 
mere oral tradition and popular legend, make it the one 
sure guide in the study of mythology. If memorial cere- 
monies kept alive the recollection of the more distinguished 
martyrs, the popular imagination was kept right in some 
main details, while the importance thus given to their 
personality made them fixed centres round which floating 
details and vague beliefs gathered. It is, I believe, a fact 
that such memorial services were performed in honour of 
the great saints of the early Church, and that at these ser- 
vices such discourses as that of Gregory Nyssenus on the 
Forty Martyrs were delivered; though on such a point I 
speak with all diffidence. Such was the way in which the 
memory of St. Artemon was kept fresh by thoroughly 
trustworthy evidence as to some of the main facts, and yet 
his personality became a centre of mere popular tales. 

I do not of course maintain that all tales of Asian saints 
rank in the class. Each one must be examined separately, 
and vividness of local detail is one of the chief criteria for 
admitting any tale into this class. My purpose is only to 
show that some tales do belong to this class ; but several 
examples might be given of tales, which have not the 
slightest trace of local colouring or reality about them. 

"While the general facts were given by popular legend, 
the literary form is due to the genius, or want of genius, 
of the writer. How much should be attributed to the 
former cause, and how much to the latter, it is not possible 
to determine absolutely, though an approximation may be 
made in each case, and something may be learned about the 
ability and character of the writer in the cases where a 
longer biography is preserved. It is not certain whether 
the hand of a single writer is to be traced throughout, or 
whether there was a general wave of hagiography over 
Asia Minor. Probably such a general tendency did charac- 


terize the fifth century, but at the sarr.e time it may be 
pcssille to trace the wort of the same writer in seTeral 
cic-graphies. The wh:»Ie sutject however requires patient 
investigation, and I cam::l h:pe to have hit the truth 
entirely, much less to have exhausted what might be 
learned, in these remarks, which are founded cnly on a 
hasty perusal of part of the materials undertaken at first for 
purp>se5 of topography, and made in the intervals of a busy 
life devoted chiefly to other pursuits- I shall be entirely 
satisfied if I succeed in drawing more attention to the Chris- 
tian antiquities of Asia Minor, and in arc using otheis to 
correct me and to do better what I here do imperfectly. 

It is possible that the foregoing remarks may be held 
extravagant, but I think it best to draw with rigorous logic 
the conclusions that seem to follow from the principles enun- 
ciated ; and those who consider that the conclusions involve 
too great a strain on their credulity will scrutinize with 
pr:per severity the premises from which they are deduced. 

It has fortunately happened that in the explorations car- 
ried out in connexion with the Asia Minor Exploration 
Fund indubitable evidence was discovered of the historical 
character of another Phrygian saint, in whom the legendary 
and fantastic and marvellous element is almost as strongly 
marked as in the tale of Artemon. Here we have a case 
where it is possible to compare the legend with the histori- 
cal facts, to trace the origin of the legendary details, and 
to show the real facts out of which some of them grew. 
The whole circumstances furnish a striking example of 
the way in which archaeological evidence may be used to 
estimate and establish the authority of semi-historical 
documents. Assuming all that has been said by the Bishop 
of Durham in this magazine, January, 1665, p. 3 ff., on the 
special legend which I have to discuss, I shall, in the first 
place, enumerate the main points in the tale, so as to bring 
out both the purely fictitious character and the probable 



II. Peter. 

We have seen how consistent and lifelike are the various 
incidents recorded of the group of the apostles, and how 
matter of fact and unidealized is the conception of them. 
And since the story of our Lord is supported by exactly the 
same evidence, we have concluded that what verifies the 
former is a testimony to the latter as well. 

We now turn to those individuals among the Twelve 
concerning whom enough is recorded to give them shape 
and colour; and we ask how it stands with them. Are 
they real persons, or demigods, or shadows ? And where 
we can find incidents related of them by more than one 
evangelist, do these incidents harmonize ? 

For it is quite certain that if the historians have given 
any rein whatever to their fancy, they will have been carried 
in very different directions. The Socrates of Plato and of 
Xenophon, the Cyrus of three narrators, the Caesar of 
Plutarch and of Shakespeare, are sufficiently unlike to 
establish this proposition. Where a real life is honestly 
and accurately depicted there will yet be variety, because 
each author will be impressed by traits congenial to his 
own character ; and this is the reason why our idea of Jesus 
is formed of contributions from four sources. But these 
varieties will blend, like the colours in a beam of light, into 
one harmonious effect. 

Foremost of the Twelve, not only in station but also in 
force and vigour of delineation, is Simon the son of Jonas, 
to whose whole life that may be applied which is written of 
the sins of some, that it goes before him unto judgment, so 
clear and transparent is the import of all the record, so 
unequivocal for good or evil. 


What image does oar mind call up at the name of the 
greatest of the apostles ? We think of a man in middle life, 
of whom it may be said equally, " When thou wast young " 
and " when thou shalt be old," and whose wife's mother 
retains sufficient vigour, when relieved from illness, to arise 
and minister to his guests (John xxi. 18 ; Matt. viii. 15). 
A weatherbeaten man, not unused to whole nights of toil 
and to wrestling with the whirlwinds that rage upon the 
Lake of Galilee (Luke v. 5 ; John vi. 18). A hasty man, who 
first quits the ship and then observes how wild the waves 
are, who rashly answers for the payment of tribute by his 
master, who strikes with the sword while others crave 
directions, 1 and who plunges into the waters rather than 
await the slow movement of a ship which drags a heavy 
net (Matt. xiv. 30, xvii. 24 ; Luke xxii. 49 ; Matt. xxvi. 51 ; 
John xxi. 7). A helpful man, the one who draws that same 
net ashore when all are bidden to bring of the fish which 
they have caught, and whose ship, rather than another, 
Jesus will choose to enter when He would fain be removed 
a little from the throng (John xxi. 11 ; Luke v. 3). By no 
be means a enniless labourer for hire bu^pr^ ofa m an 
o a e \a« i a u lee J a k 

PETER. 189 


only he but all the group besought Jesus ; one whose wife 
was content, a little later, to go with him in the labours of 
his apostolic wanderings ; who could make to his Master 
the pathetic appeal, " Lord, Thou knowest all things; Thou 
knowest that I love Thee " (Mark i. 29 ; Luke iv. 38 ; 1 Cor. 
ix. 5; John xxi. 17). For, in truth, a reproachful glance 
from that beloved One had almost broken his heart. A 
genial, simple, and unsuspecting nature, outspoken rather 
than profound, the first to be led to Jesus by a disciple 
already won, and the easiest to bring ; capable of a great 
fall, but quick to obtain the relief of tears, and already suffi- 
ciently recovered to hasten to the sepulchre upon the first 
tidings of a further change (John i. 41 ; Matt. xxvi. 75 ; John 
xx. 3). A rough man, betraying his province by his dialect, 
and liable to relapse, in a moment of great pressure and 
peril, into the coarse language of the market (Matt. xxvi. 
74). A man who was quickly rather than delicately sen- 
sitive ; for when John would not intrude upon his Master, 
then troubled in spirit, by searching out the traitor, Peter 

oeueVlb . ?e S oi?oao. aWit Isejn scbogb hnyn a uff/ifcn 
d am i on i 


stern prospect revealed. Is it conceivable that St. John 
should have made such an answer to such a warning, or 
even that he should have "turned about" at all to see 
who followed? This was the point of our Lord's rebuke 
in answer : Peter had nothing at such a time to do with 
others ; let him see that his own heart w T as strong. Once 
he had asked, " Why cannot I follow Thee now?" and 
had since found by sore experience that he was still un- 
ready to follow Jesus. Now he is reminded that the same 
task still lies before him, and should have the first place 
in his mind. The days are past when he might go whither 
he would : henceforth he is in the hands of stronger 
and overmastering forces ; and yet he may be free in the 
midst of coercions, if only it is his will to follow Jesus, the 

Such as C * f d to whom 

h c U n Ub.t h . o a $r si % ▼ d h %n ^ e ^ 

.o s. se or 


PETER. 191 

be converted (though the Church once founded might be 
edified exceedingly) by deep and silent reveries and profound 
views of truth. Not a sage but an interpreter was needed. 
And it will appear that while Peter and John were con- 
stantly together, in every case the initiative was taken by 
the first. 

Let us now see how this conception of a simple and loyal 
soul, easily impressed, ready to express itself, and well 
fitted to spread the contagion of its ardour, is worked out 
by the different evangelists in detail. 

When first we come upon him, he is one of a circle in 
which the Baptist has inspired the highest hope, and 
Andrew needs only to tell him, " We have found the Mes- 
siah," in order to bring him to Jesus. With him the 
Divine wisdom at once takes the initiative, and reading 
his character announces that " thou shalt be called Cephas, 
which is by interpretation a stone," a mass from the 
living Kock. What is said of him is not, as presently 
of Nathanael, what he already was ; on the contrary, Jesus 
(who is now acting, for the first time, as only Jehovah does 
in the Old Testament) bestows a new name which will best 
express the especial blessing in store for the want of Simon. 
And he gives Peter no opportunity for a rash utterance, 
but looks him through and promptly speaks a strong word, 
fitted to burn deep into a sensitive heart (John i. 42). 

His quick impressibility appeared, in different ways, at the 
first miraculous draught of fish, when he prostrated himself, 
and cried " Depart from me," and when, with a shudder, he 
said, "This shall never be unto Thee," "minding" things 
in their earthly aspect, but with only too vivid apprehension 

^ v -tW% xv i- t 2 V ft *>&* n™ in hi i 

h d & noh ^ %Wp t 


from Jerusalem, whose displeasure while distant he had 
defied, all came home to his keen susceptibilities with peri- 
lous and misleading power (Matt. xiv. 30 ; Luke xxii. 53 ; 
Mark xiv. 66 ; Gal. ii. 12). 

Closer observation will detect, beside this well known 
impetuosity in action, a restless craving to act, an inability 
to " be still and see Balvation," in every crisis a feeling that 
he must do something, even if he can discover no deed 
fitting the occasion. There was in him a certain absence 
of repose, which involved him in many of his troubles, yet 
indicated zeal and self-reliance. 

Upon the Mount of Transfiguration we are surprised to 
learn what followed because he knew not what to say. 
Silence one would expect, but it is not so ; it is the strange 
proposal to build three booths in which the transfigured 
Lord and His visitants from another world may enjoy 
separate accommodation and shelter from the night air, 
since it was good to be there. 1 In answer to this bewildered 
proposal, which sets the three upon a level, the voice from 
heaven bids them continue to hear Jesus, as they have done 
for years, and He alone is left with them (Mark ix. 5). 

But this, though an extreme example, is not at all a 
solitary one. It is not enough to await Jesus in the ship ; 
he desires to meet Him half-way, upon the water ; he must 
remonstrate if Christ's forebodings appear too gloomy; he 
wants to know, " Why cannot I follow Thee now ? " he must 
needs smite unbidden ; and while awaiting new revelations 
he will go a-fishing (Matt. xiv. 28 ; Mark viii. 32 ; John 
xiii. 37, xviii. 10, xxi. 3). 

There is always a similar plunge, one might say, into 
the water, into unweighed words, into conflict, and into 
the stronghold of his foes. And in every case he is quite 
willing to act alone. This is the peculiarity which Jesus 

1 Iu several manuscripts Peter proposes that he should himself build aU 
three tabernacles. 

PETER. 103 

indicated, with a wonderfully accurate and delicate touch, 
in the words, When thou wast young, thou didst go, 
with loins girt, in the ways of thine own will (John xxi. 

Such quick feelings and impulsive ardour are the natural 
companions of a quality, dangerous enough, but absolutely 
necessary for his high calling, the great readiness of speech, 
of which several examples have been already quoted. His 
impulsive utterances did often outrun his judgment and 
become blameworthy, but they were almost always high- 
toned and lovable. 

It is worth notice, that while he is so commonly the 
speaker for the group, we do not once read of his being so 
for evil. The rebuke of those who sought to have their 
children blessed, and of one who cast out devils without 
following the apostles, the imputing of sin to " this man or 
his parents," the impatience excited by the clamour of the 
woman of Canaan, the intrigue for the right-hand and left- 
hand places in the kingdom, the proposal to call down fire 
on the Samaritans, and the complaint of the waBte of oint- 
ment, in no gospel is one of these ascribed to Peter (Mark 
x. 13 ; Luke ix. 49 ; John ix. 2 ; Matt. xv. 23 ; Mark x. 37 ; 
Luke ix. 54 ; Matt. xxvi. 8). 

And if we reckon up the various occasions of his stum* 
bling, none of them will be traced to meanness or self-in- 
dulgence at the root. If he left the ship, it was to go to 
Jesus ; if he dared to rebuke the Lord, it was because the 
prospect of His suffering shocked him ; he would vouch for 
the payment by his Master of any claim which he deemed 
just ; if his estimate of the duty of forgiveness fell short of 
the New Testament standard, it excelled that of his nation ; 
he would not suffer his Lord to perform for him a menial 
office, but when he discerned its deeper meaning, he asked 
too much, forgetting that he was " bathed " already; he 
could not believe that any form of peril would shake his 

vol. ix. 13 


£ieli:y to Chris:, f:r wh:m he was indeed prepared to 
£^fct, whose surrender o:Jy he £a£kd to share ; if he slept 
in the garden, it was ** for sorrow " ; and if in the palace 
he was £nai;j overcome, it was because, with nerves 
unstnmz, he yet ventured farther than any, except one 
who had interest in the place Matt. xiv. 29. xvi. ±2, xvii. 
24, xviii. 21 ; J:hn xiii. 8 ; Mark xiv. SI : Luke xxii. 45 : 
John xviii. 10 . 

We come nearer to the secret oi his greatness when we 
observe that his sensibilities were not m:re alive to any- 
thing than to spiritual impressions. It was he who " called 
to mind " that the blighted fig tree was that which the 
Mister cursed iMark xi. 21\ When his nets broke, he felt 
neither that a great spoil was given to him. nor yet that the 
marvel of the giving was greater than the gift ; all thought of 
wonder and of gain was lest in the overwhelming sense of 
his own un worthiness of such a presence : and although it 
was not for him to shake off the mighty influence which 
had come into his life, yet he dared not accept it without 
the confession, the almost protest, '* Depart from me ; for I 
am a sinful man, O Lord." 

Thus Job, when he saw God, abhorred himself and re- 
pented ; and thus Isaiah cried out, "Woe is me, for I am 
undone/' Self-abasement, not presumptuous confidence, 
restored the patriarch, and gave Isaiah and Peter their com- 
mission (Luke v. 8; Job xlii. 6 : Isa. vi. 5». 

"When Jesus asked the Twelve, " Will ye also go away ? " 
it was Peter who answered, acting, perhaps for the first 
time, as the authorized spokesman of all the company. He 
did not speak of the marvellous miracle they had witnessed ; 
rather was his heart still vibrating with the great utterance 
which had offended many, and therefore he said, "Thou 
hast the words of eternal life, and we have believed and 
know that Thou art the Holy One of God." And since men 
who had learned the message of eternity could not return 

PETER. 195 

to their nets, nor choose but follow some spiritual chief, he 
asked, " Lord, to whom should we go ? " (John vi. 68.) 

Again, when Jesus asked, " Who say men that I am?" 
all were ready to declare how some said with Herod that 
He was the Baptist, some Elias the forerunner, some 
(because Jesus had now begun to foretell a new ruin of 
Jerusalem) the melancholy Jeremiah, and others vaguely one 
of the old prophets. But when Jesus again asked, " Who 
say ye that I am ? " Peter alone gave the clear and decisive 
answer; not, as with the qualifying preface used of the 
guesses of the people, " we. say," but confidently, as one 
might hail his king, " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the 
living God n (Matt. xvi. 13-17). 

Blessed in that hour was Simon Bar-Jonas, and now 
Christ declared to him that he was actually Peter ; because 
this truth was not revealed to him by flesh and blood, not 
even by the lips of Jesus, but by the voice of the Father, 
heard in the silence of a consecrated heart. Not that he was 
himself the rock, for against his gratified self-confidence the 
gates of hell too quickly began to prevail, and the words 
which he next pronounced fell upon the Saviour's ear as 
the very utterance of the evil one. But the great confes- 
sion he had made was the foundation and basis of the Chris- 
tian faith- and therefore it as iven to himfere t 

Tn^ j! I _ r ;* I^UL JLr _ ?~L£z. 

c: a h:i^ir=d pen:*. 7*5 He had n: 5=ars :■: «r:.* kind for 
P-=>=r. Vzi j;»;ked t.: *" — wher. rescireL :c respire the rest, 
wh^ *is^li also Lire ::r**k=r: tbrir L:rl and r-d. S^ch 
is th* crlj salient r »ir : "? :f ile w:rls wh£:h warn 

r.irr.e cf Lis secular Lie- *• S:zi:n. Simm. S*ian asked to 
L*Te 7:1 7"." . th*i Le cizhi sn 7:- as wheat ; c^t I made 
praver :;r thee >. pzn~.'Z*~ir . ih±t itt fiith fail n:t : and 
ds the::, when ci^ th:^ hast nmed agafr:, starlish thy 
brethren " Luke xxii. ol. c- . 

This was his especial fun~tf:n. Ani yet J:hn was m:»re 
faiihf^i; he d:I net deny Christ in the pigment haii, he 
watched by Him at the cress. E^t J;hn"s nature was pen- 
sire, retiring, passive, better suited to iathzin the mystery 
of the eternal Wcrd, than to take the helm in a tempest. 

This leads 11s to ccnsiler the zemarkarle relation which 
exists between the silent disciple, who received the tender 
charge of Mary, and him whose sinewy were fitter 
to grasp the ponderous keys of the kin&Icm than to wipe 
a woman's tears. 

It is not very hazardous to infer that Peter and John were 
linked when Jesus sent forth His apostles two by two. 

We have already seen that each sub-division of four 
apostles is the same in every list of the Twelve ; and this 
represents, almost certainly, a fixed arrangement. In that 
case we may safely assert that each group contained two 
of those couples whom our Lord saw fit to join together ; 
for the same reasons, whether of mutual attraction or of 
character which once yoked them together, would oppose 
the rupture of the tie. It follows that the colleague of 
Peter was either Andrew or else James or John. But his 

j o ther Andrew ee«f~ES 

-d d- P . It. 1 hr.oe&o f r ftrr lho^e P 

PETER. 197 

character, as will be shown hereafter, is curiously similar 
to his own, though less vigorously developed. What is 
desirable in such a case is the alliance of natures, not indeed 
antagonistic, but supplementary, so that, as Lord Tennyson 
sings of a still closer tie, each may subserve defect in each. 
It was thus with the friendship which that great poet has 
immortalized ; and he has written : 

" ' More than my brothers are to me ' — 
Let this not vex thee, noble heart! 
I know thee of what force thou art 
To hold the costliest love in fee. 

But thou and I are one in kind, 
As moulded like in nature's mint; 
And hill and wood and field did print 

The same sweet forms on either mind. 

And so my wealth resembles thine, 
But he was rich when I was poor, 
And he supplied my want the more 

As his uulikeness fitted mine/' 

It will appear in a future paper that the wealth of Andrew 
too much resembled Peter's own to be chosen to supply his 

With James Peter is never found co-operating in any 

special effort, although both are included with John in the 

) ai si ri Xefcaeph^ alect £ the elestion afaBina the Tc IP nt 

e e ,ar aTi totes ea one n _ n 1 


Now Peter and J:hn were sent together to find the man 
bearing a pitcher of water ; Peter beckoned to John to ask 
who was the trail :r: it was J:ha who brought Peter into 
the palace of the bizh priest : Mary Magdalene, when gent 
to " tell Peter/' f:-oni him and J:hn tcgether. and they ran 
b::h to the sepulchre: it was to Peter in the fishing boat 
that Jehu wLisperei his recvzgniiion of the mysterious 
strar^-er on the sh:>re; and Peter asked concerning John, 
*• What shall this man do ? ** together they went to the 
temple when the iame man at the Beautiful Gate receiTed 
their wondrous alms; they subsequently stood forward 
together when Feter made his bold defence ; and they two 
were sent together by the apostles at Jerusalem to confirm 
the disciples at Samaria : Lake xxii. ^ ; John xiii. 24, 
xviii. 1»>, xx. *2, xxi. 7, '21 ; Acts iii. 1, iv. 13, VJ; viii. 14). 

Nothing can be more consistent than all the incidents 
and traits which we have now compared. A glance at the 
references will show that they are drawn impartially from 
all four gospels and from the Acts of the Apostles. They 
are not a few convenient facts selected from a great many, 
for there is scarcely an incident recorded of him, and cer- 
tainly not one characteristic or important incident, which 
has not found its place in the accumulative demonstration. 

The most homely events and the most astounding 
miracles are equally stamped with this verifying impress — 
the manner of Simon Bar-Jonas, as unmistakable as the 
impatient style of Carlyle, or the bold touch of Michael 

And yet this rich, exuberant, and strongly drawn cha- 
racter is over-mastered at every point by that of Jesus, 
before Whom he does well to prostrate himself. 

i It will be observed that this duty is imposed upon him after he has entered 
upon whate?er authority may be supposed to accompany the keys. A modern 
Roman is t is therefore bound to skv '* w 

n o» 

TETEU. 199 

Moreover, we have primitive authority for believing that 
St. Peter contributed the materials at least for the second 
gospel, which is full of just such incidents as would de- 
light his vehement spirit. Its very keynote is the word 
"straightway," and everything in it breathes of the energy, 
penetration, decision, and fire which took the heart of Peter 
by storm. 

But here, as elsewhere, we never once find the Master 
overstepping those limits of prudence and fine feeling which 
the disciple transgressed so often. It is indeed on this 
account, and by reason of the exquisite balance of all great 
qualities in the Messiah, that so many are surprised when 
bidden to observe the strength and even intensity of will 
and action of the 

*' Gentle Jesus, meek and mild." 

We do not recognise the burning will, the zeal which 
" devoured," when we find them mellowed and sweetened 
by the softer graces, only not predominant when it is a 
duty to set them aside. . 

As an admirably proportioned man does not appear so 
large as another of equal stature, so the powers of Christ 
are less discerned by reason of their harmony. And there- 
fore it is well that, like St. Margaret's Church beside West- 
minster Abbey, the impetuous fervour of Peter should serve 
as a scale by which the imagination can measure the 
redeeming energies which inspired, rebuked, and converted 
him, which faltered not when he fled, and having con- 
quered the grave, restored to him his forfeited commission. 

The Christian is at least entitled to ask the unbelieving 
critic : How can the authenticity of this strong and graphic 
conception be denied ? yet how can it be accepted without 
jjMflto #Jge baijgiiBicul mr safLT i * b. 



Fkom the Head of the Church we turn to the Church her- 
Hvlt. The living Lord is now a Priest in heaven. How 
far is His Church on earth priestly? and, if she is so, 
what are the functions in which her priestliness is fulfilled ? 
The inquiry must relate in the first instance to the Church 
as a whole, and not to any particular class within her. 
Upon the propriety of keeping this in view, it is un- 
neceHsary to say more than has been said already. 

Thorn can be no hesitation then in asserting that, in the 
strictest and fullest meaning of the words, the Church of 
Chmt is a sacerdotal or priestly institution. Sacerdotalism, 
prieHtlinoss, is the prime element of her being ; and it is so 
because it is the prime element in the being of her exalted 
and glorified Head. The general principle from which we 
tmtftt ntart in all inquiries of this kind is, that whatever 
function Christ discharges in heaven must also be dis- 
eharged, according to her capabilities and opportunities, by 
II in Church on earth. This principle is the simple corol- 
lary to the fundamental principle of the Church's existence 
an a spiritual body, that she is the Body of Christ, and that 
the Itody livos in such close communion with the Head, 
that, whatever the latter is or does the former must in 
measure be or do. " I am the Vine, yc are the branches " 
(John xv, M ; «uoh is the declaration by her Lord of the 
rhutvh'* prixilesje and standing among men. "Abide in 
Mo, and 1 in yon M (John xv. 4) is His authoritative com- 
mand. The true idea of the Church on earth is not that she 
consist* of a vast, multitude of men, individually following in 
the foot Mops of thoir Master, and looking for ever-increas- 
ing moasuvo* of the Spirit dispensed by Him from heaven. 
" ih it own that of a "Body starting from earth, and 


reaching onwards to a heavenly condition, only perfectly 
attained when our present mortal pilgrimage is over. It 
is rather the idea of a Body starting from heaven, and 
exhibiting the graces and privileges already ideally be- 
stowed upon it in such a manner as may lead the world 
either to come to the light, or to condemn itself 
because it loves darkness rather than light, its deeds being 
evil. The visibility of the Body is one of the essential 
notes of its existence. The Father of the spirits of all 
flesh desires to make Himself known for the salvation of 
the world. Before this can be effectually done, He must, 
according to the constitution of our nature, be seen 
in what He is. Therefore, because no man hath seen or 
can see God at any time, the Only Begotten, which was 
in the bosom of the Father, hath " declared " Him (John 
i. 18). This " declaration/' however, could be made by 
Christ Himself to none but the men of His own generation. 
A record of it might be preserved ; books might be written 
regarding it ; a full and detailed description of what Jesus 
was while upon earth might be given to mankind. But 
not in books alone could all that is involved in communion 
with the Father be so presented to the world as to attract 
it also into that blessed fellowship. The world needed to 
see what such fellowship implied, how it elevated and 
consecrated and beautified human life, and, in the only 
sense in which the word ought to be used, brought 
" salvation " to man. Hence, accordingly, the words of our 
Lord Himself, "As Thou didst send Me into the world, 
even so sent I them into the world " ; " And the glory 
which Thou gavest Me I have given unto them ; that they 
may be one even as We are one ; I in them, and Thou in 
Me, that they may be perfected into one ; that the world 
may know that Thou didst send Me, and lovedst them, even 
as Thou lovedst Me " (John xvii. 18, 22, 23). Hence, the 
words of " the disciple whom Jesus loved," " If we walk in 


of her High Priest in heaven. When she does this, she will 
find that she has attained a greater element of power than 
she will ever acquire by thanking Heaven that she is not 

We have spent so much time upon this first part of the 
Church's priesthood, that little space is left for its two other 
parts. A brief notice of them must suffice. 

II. As in her priestly capacity the Church has an offering 
to make, so also, like her glorified Lord, she is an intercessor 
with the Father. And what is this intercession? We have 
already seen that it is not prayer alone, but the diligent 
performance of every office and every act by which the 
persons for whom she prays may be built up into the com- 
pleteness, strength, and beauty of the Divine life in man. 
She has to form those who are as yet babes in Christ into 
perfect manhood, to give courage to the faint, to restore the 
fallen, to speak peace to the sensitive conscience, to lift up 
to higher notes of praise those who are already singing 
the Lord's song in a strange land. Of this " intercession," 
indeed, prayer is undoubtedly one of the most essential 
parts. Not only the prayers of individuals, but the prayers 
of the Church as a whole, ought to ascend continually to 
Him who says, "Put Me in remembrance; let us plead 
together ; set forth thy cause, that thou mayest be justified' ' 
(Isa. xliii. 26). The world ought to know that, apart from 
the struggles in which it is engaged, from the distraction 
of thought from which it suffers, from the materialising 
tendencies of life, 

"There are in this loud stunning tide 
Of human care and crime, 
With whom the melodies abide 
Of the everlasting chime"; 

and who, within such veils as earth supplies, are sending 
up their unceasing prayers to Heaven on its behalf. Nor 


would this only teach dependence upon others, and the 
superstitious feeling that without working out our own 
salvation we may be saved by the pious exertions on our 
behalf of those who love us. That may be the danger, but 
there is no good which has not its attendant danger ; and 
surely it is better to think of salvation gained in some way 
than not to think of it at all. How often have a parents, 
or a friend's, or a minister's prayers, accidentally overheard 
by their object, touched the heart of one wandering in sin, 
and done far more to reclaim him than words of direct 
remonstrance or reproof! How often has even the per- 
suasion that Christian friends were praying for us lent us 
courage and hope in the hour of need! Let the Church 
" pray without ceasing " for her own members ; let her 
" pray without ceasing " that through her the world may 
be made in truth the kingdom of God, and she will only 
be acting a part for which even nature pleads, and which 
is sanctified by grace. She cannot make a real offering, 
either of herself or for others, without occupying the posi- 
tion of her heavenly High Priest, and presenting her 
prayers, the prayers of all saints, as much incense, before 
the throne of the Majesty on high. 

IH. In fulfilling her priestly function the Church, like 
her Lord in heaven, dispenses blessings. The point thus 
touched on cannot be discussed at present. It would re- 
quire separate treatment ; for it opens up the whole question 
of the bestowal, not directly, but through the Church, of the 
Holy Spirit upon men. Yet, without entering upon this 
wide and in some respects difficult subject, it may surely 
be said that through the Church there is, according to the 
teaching of Scripture, the direct importation of strengthen- 
ing grace to those who do not close their hearts against it. 
Benediction, blessing, cannot be a mere form of words. 
There must be some reality beneath it. Xor can it be only 
prayer, or why does it not take the form of prayer alone? 


When the apostles baptized the early converts to the faith 
they laid their hands upon them, and the Holy Spirit was 
given in their act of doing so. In Acts xiii. 3 it would even 
appear that, when Barnabas and Saul were separated for 
the particular work for which they are there described as 
called, the whole Church at Antioch took part in fitting 
them for the execution of their task. " Then, when they 
had fasted and prayed and laid their hands on them, they 
sent them away." 

We cannot suppose that the Church of Christ now has 
less at her command than she had in the apostolic age, that 
Divine grace "is less at her disposal now than it was then, or 
that there is anything in the Divine arrangements made for 
her in her later history by which the efficacy of her early 
influence is limited and restrained. When, accordingly, we 
read so often in the Acts of the Apostles of the bestowal 
of the Spirit as of something distinct from prayer, we are 
entitled to infer that there is blessing of a similar kind still 
bestowed through the action of the Church in word and 
sacrament. Not that the Church is the source of blessing, 
any more than she is the source of offering. Bather may 
it be said that, as she carries out and applies the offering 
wherewith Christ offers Himself to the Father, so she 
carries out and applies the blessing wherewith He blesses. 
But that blessing is real. Under all circumstances it comes 
forth from Him who has in Himself the "fulness " of grace ; 
and, when it is not accepted by the world, it returns to 
His people for their own increase in holiness and comfort. 
Pentecostal seasons did not close with the day of Pentecost. 
He who then came down in tongues of flame is not confined 
to an upper room in Jerusalem, nor is the fire of His in- 
fluence less potent at the present day than it was then. It 
may appear in different forms ; but it appeared in different 
forms even in the apostolic Church. Let it be enough for 
us to kno that amidn in<* circumstances 


and conditions of life, the Spirit of God is still given with 
a power not less intimately adapted to them, and not less 
capable of producing the same heavenly life in the earthly 
homes and haunts of men. 

Such then is the priesthood of the Church ; and it will be 
observed that it includes far more important functions than 
those generally spoken of by writers on the universal Chris- 
tian priesthood, or the present priesthood of believers. It 
is not enough to say with Bishop Moberly that the Chris- 
tian in tlye owfl aflhfa _er_ <h . 1 t r W bcgjjtivatyfle } 


At this moment nothing is more imperatively demanded 
of the Church than a revival of that idea of her priestliness 
which flows directly from the fact that she lives in Him 
who is our High Priest in heaven. The idea has been left 
too long associated with periods of unscriptural domination 
on the part of the clergy, and of ignorance and superstition 
n the 

e 3 

qu n a ur 

Sw6efiB#m . 0%Bplai e h e hs ^ „ v „ , 

f . s a e a o a 

1 ae e , 


Hrhkrws ii. 5-9. 

It U aIiuonL presumptuous for any third party to interpose 
In u diMCUMion hetwoon scholars so eminent and honoured 
«.w Dm. Hrucn and Davidson, and upon a subject of such 
lUnWmlty and mich importance as the interpretation of 
IMwwa ii, 0. 

" Non utwtnim intor vos tnntas componere litcs. 1 ' 

The writer'* apology lies in the fact that the passage in 
i|Uf**1ion i* one that needs to be examined from different 
poinl* of view; and that it has possessed for himself, ever 
*moe he began to .study the Greek Testament, a peculiar 
tWmatton* He ha* long been convinced that the tradi- 
tional construction of tins verse is on grammatical grounds 
t^nte untenable ; and ha* been led. independently, to a line 
of tnto*ywtation KvVir^ in the s*r.:e direction as that so 
aV v \ do\\\oy*d by IVs* IVcce ar.d Maihescxu ihcr^h net 
a^AvyiVc* *v »,v «i \v.<h i;, H^:a:*r:v to his thinkiiig, 
T x a v \w a v\,w voavc> r.£ V^>i ;r ; v.r, t> :s >*>•:*■? ir.3rrr:Vui:d 
ic\* ^ s - a x .\\ c^v; v.wSer*.; r\e^;e 

* cm ^x Vcwvvc., x*.,h *\. fc ,>M\^\ «i >7. .$*> ill ~£se 
'nnvv, \swv" av\; >x ,V ** ; r.v iras* ~«r£ju=r»I 


\ v w' , 



<V '"'^ l 

;->* -Vv,l X s : ." 


* •* 

- ""V, 

: vc insures 

v V 


\V ,K 



1 VkV 

Ck ^JV .j.>V» 

■v£ f 

v':<c .: 

:r ^w Tum^c 



*\ ■' 


' '. - 

■v S'»> !V 



-%.:.:£ n. «i-i* 

. , 

V *» 

1 . 

n .. 

-. » . 


iu ■ 

• * ■ ; ■* »*«;*• 




1. » 


* v 

.\A 'N.rv >v v w 

« .. IN 

• t t 

ttf r ".»» sa\C 



,;> ,. 

«, • 

•• V, 

v «%■*<>». •< 

"•%. !».• . . 



*- «iv. 'trk«^as tit 

\ N 


V N NK-. 



i - 

4» - - • * •»"» 

1«. *» 


-« ?■**.-.► -* > ir..>«: 




Ni • » 

" ? 

. .» -S %X « V 

»\ -r^ 



; . *... SB- AXta. 


great epistle with a truly Pauline man, but an independent 
thinker, and one who has good right to be heard on his 
own account. The iroXvfiepm /cal 7ro\vTp67ra><; with which 
he begins is an advertisement to this effect. Let us watch 
him as he pens these solemn and inspiring words, with the 
Old Testament open by his side, and the life and death of 
Jesus spread like a living picture before his memory, writ- 
ing to his Hebrew Christian brethren on the eve of the fall 
of their national Judaism, and striving to assure them of 
the stability of the " new and better covenant," and the 
completeness of the salvation which it brings, and, above all, 
to raise them to a worthier conception of the glory and 
perfectness of their High Priest and Mediator. 

The starting-point of the writer's thought in chap. ii. 5 
we find in the last words of chap. i. The angels, he says, 
" are ministering spirits, sent forth to do service for the sake 
of the destined heirs of salvation." The interjected homily 
imports no new thought, but simply enforces what has 
been already said, the apostle at the end of it resuming the 
thread of his previous exposition. Now what is the idea 
suggested by the animated question of chap. i. 14? It is 
surely that of the nobility of man, the honour put upon 
" the heirs of salvation " and the glory of their calling, in 
whose interest the angels are engaged, those flaming mes- 
sengers of the heavenly court, worshippers and servants of 
the Son "in whom " God thought fit to " speak to us." 
If the greatness of the Son of God, as author of the new 
revelation, is the reflection uppermost in the writer's mind, 
the dignity of those to whom He thus speaks, the impor- 
tance of their position and the grave responsibility it brings 
upon them, are no less present to his thoughts. It is this 
consideration that gives its peculiar urgency to the appeal, 
" How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?" 
This underlying sense of the unparalleled distinction accru- 
ing to the status of Christian believers comes out again* and 


again in the course of the epistle. " Holy brethren, par- 
takers of a heavenly calling," who may " enter boldly into 
the holy place," for whom " God provided a better thing" 

than for the greatest of His ancient saints, " receiving the 

r . . 


6-6). What is earth-born man ? Poor insignificance ! he 
stands looking up to the splendour and majesty of God's 
eternal heavens ! Strange that the Maker of those gleam- 
ing, unnumbered worlds should have regard to him ! And 
yet God has stamped on man His image, setting him not 
far below His angels, 1 crowning him with glory and honour, 
and making the world a realm for him to rule. Such is 
the ideal view of man's relation to his own world. It is 
upon this pattern that his renewal is to be effected, as 
St. Paul has already taught us, " after the image of Him 
that created him" (Col. iii. 10). Man's salvation cannot stop 
short of the recovery of this lapsed dominion. And our 
teacher will not have this heritage diminished, nor the ideal 
of human dignity and power lowered in any wise to the 
level of the humiliating fact : " For in subjecting all things 
to man, there is nothing that He left unsubjected to him." 
So far, let us observe, the apostle's question is simply that of 
the psalmist, " What is man ? or man's son (Adam's race) ?" 
— a phrase that we have no business to turn into " the Son 
of man," as though it were a designation of Christ alone. 
We rob ourselves of the precious import of the Psalm when 
we force it, unwarrantably, into the Messianic grooves. 
The New Testament writers do not use the older Scriptures 
in such fanciful and arbitrary fashion as seems to be often 
assumed. It is man's estate, designed for him from crea- 
tion, that is held out to the view of Christian faith ; and 
we are assured that no jot or tittle of the promise shall 
be allowed to fail. 

Turn now from this ideal to the melancholy fact. " But 
now we see not yet all things made subject to him." 
There is a tragic litotes here: the stress of the sentence 

1 Here Shakespeare is no bad commentator. " What a piece of work is a man ! 

how noble in reason 1 how infinite in faculty ! in form and moving how ex- 

resa and admirable I in L _ "k n an el 1 in a rehension how like 

lofl. t .b i lw tf ev fl> 


rests on the words made subject {ain$ ra irdvra inroT€Tay- 
fiiva), indicating that the very opposite is the case ; as when 
St. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians xi. 22, " I praise you not," 
to express the severest blame. 1 Instead of being master of 
the world over which God set him, man is like a guilty, 
cowering slave, " all his lifetime subject to bondage through 
fear of death" (ver. 15). Death has reversed our lordship 
over nature, and changed it to servitude. At this point 
it is enough simply to state the negative fact. As things 
are, man's royalty is forfeited, his crown is in the dust; 
and the apostle, looking out on the world around him, 
says with a sigh, " We see not yet all things subjected to 
him." Clearly this supremacy, if it is ever to be attained 
and the Psalm is anything more than a poet's dream, be- 

>«rr 1 SP^8 fi8 8F& fo *^lt r loe. itenon h \^^ USAmk e s 


his definition of " our great High Priest, Jesus the Son of 
Qod." We must allow him to work out his argument in 
his own way. 

Here is a Man then in whom humanity is lifted from the 
dust, and once more grows conscious of its primal dignity. 
The advent of Jesus raises immeasurably our conception of 
the possibilities of human nature, and supplies a new and 
magnificent answer to the old question, " What is man ? " 
Prophecy is outdone by what we see in Jesus of man's 
greatness as the object of the Divine regard. And this 
Leader of our salvation is "forerunner" of His brethren's 
exaltation, both in earth and heaven. 

On every ground we fiad ourselves compelled to refer 
the predicate " crowned with glory and honour," in ver. 9, 
to the earthly life and human relationship of our Saviour. 
Surely it is in this environment that we see Jesus (ffXe-rropev 
'Irjaovv). It is amazing that exegetes like Kurtz and Liine- 
mann should render iSXiirofiev " see with the eyes of faith," 
or, " the eyes of the spirit," and refer to chap. iii. 19 in 
proof ! If there is a word in the New Testament that de- 
notes sight as opposed to faith, it is just this verb fiXex-a. 
"Faith," in chap. xi. 1, is a "proof of things not seen" 
(ov pkeTTOfiivtov) ; similarly in 2 Corinthians iv. 18, " the 
ett ei .T&re €tto eva ires em oratf'.but the in 

«tn &g o v . t 

*« jE^rs czowstt r:£ ieath. 

AiA what " we see " in ibe it^i^ £«£:*« 3 5s ic be f rrzii 
nv; in »Lc s^perr^i resizes ci Qis'j bcaTdlj npfgr., bos in 
t?>£ faciliar tce&es of Hi Heated H5& en eanh, fu "* the 
tLin^i which," as Si. Jolm cars, *" we haxe sees whi ccr 
ere*, and era- Lands fcaTe hariled. concerning tie Word of 
Kfc/* We to-day "see Jesns" in tne stcry <:£ the Fictt, 
as tr^e readers of this kiter saw Him in the lining words 
of His ere-wimesses and ministers. 

And ** we see Him for l the suffering cf death crowned 
with g-ory and honour." Xo weris eo^Ii more fitly ex- 
press the strange blending of gi^ry and suffering xisible 
throughout the earthly coarse of Jesras, — gory erer leading 
on to sobering, and finding in death its climax and hidden 
purpose* If man's ideal greatness is the starting-point of 
the writer's thought, the death of the cross is always its 
centre. The former, for sinful (chap. i. 3; and death-bound 
man, can only win its realisation through the latter. JesMS 
i* crowned for death. Wiilingiy would Israel have given 
Him in life the Messiah's crown. They could not under- 
stand why One so high in the grace of God, so rich in 
kingly qualities and powers, did not take the last remaining 
step and mount to David's throne. Their fury against Him 
at the last was, in the breasts of many who cried, " Away 
with Him V 9 the rage of a bitter disappointment. They did 
not see that the higher He was raised in favour with God 
and men, the nearer and the more needful became His 
death. If this is a " fine modern idea," then also is that 
of " the corn of wheat " that " falls into the ground to die," 
and indeed the whole teaching of John xii. 12-33 comes 
under the same designation. It is enough to refer to the 

1 &a, on onr view of the text, is almost equivalent to ett, and looks forward to 
the Swm yeforrrat, c.r.X., much as in chap. ix. 15. 1 Tim. i. 16, 2 Tim. ii. 10. 
It signifies, as always with the accusative, the ground or reason of the event 
specified ; only in this case the reason lies in a subsequent, not, as commonly, 
a precedent event. There is the same prospective &a in Bom. iv. 256, on the 
usual interpretation. See Lidd. and Scott, fed, B. iii. 2. 

i inn 


scene of the transfiguration, 1 and of the royal entry into 
Jerusalem, to show the profound connection which existed, 
alike in the mind of Jesus, in the purpose of God, and in 
the sequence of history,- between Christ's human glorifica- 
tion and His sacrificial death. 

Two important grammatical considerations remain to be 
noticed, which will serve further to elucidate, and, as we 
think, verify our construction of the text. The object of 
the verb " see," in ver. 9, according to the Greek order, 
is not " Jesus " in the first instance, but " Him that is 
made some little lower than angels," 3 who is at once 
identified with "Jesus," for of Him this was manifestly 
and eminently true. Then follows the predicate, " for the 
suffering," etc. It is to be noted that the participles " made 
lower" and "crowned" are in precisely the same tense 
and grammatical form (rjXaTT&fiivov, eare^avw^hov : per- 
fects passive). The presumption is that they denote 
contemporary, rather than successive states, just as it is 
with the corresponding verbs in the language of the Psalm. 
Had the apostle intended to distinguish by these expres- 
sions an antecedent and consequent condition, how easy 
for this master of Greek idiom — and how necessary with 
the parallelism of the psalmist leading the reader the other 
way — to have made the transition clear by a change of 

1 The words of 2 Pet. i. 16, 17, which we confidently claim as apostolic tradi- 
tion, agree closely with those of the text : " We made known unto you the 
power and coming of onr Lord Jesus Christ, being eye-witnesses of His majesty. 
For He received from God the Father honour and glory, when there came such 
a voice to Him from the excellent glory ... in the holy mount." Perhaps 
the writer of the Hebrews had this scene specifically before his mind. We note 
as at least a singular coincidence that the phrase taste of death occurs also in 
this context in the synoptic tradition (Matt. xvi. 28, Mark ix. 1, Lake ix. 27) ; 
it is nsed bat once besides in the N.T. 

* This is no term of disparagement in the Psalm, nor need it be here as 

applied to the earthly humanity of Jesus. It does not describe the exinanition 

of Philippians ii. 6, but refers to the contemporary states of different persons 

{men, Jesus, and angels), rather than the successive states of the same person 

aasgiT -" « « ase r ' , f 


tense (t. iWaTradivra), or by some distinctive adverb, as, 
for example, in oar own couplet : 

'*High o'er the angelic bands He rears 
His once dishonoured head"! 

But he does nothing of the kind, for he means nothing 
of the kind. While in His human guise Jesus was in some 
sort lower than the angels, at the same time, and not- 
withstanding, He was crowned with glory. Through all 
that is best in human life there runs the same mixture 
of honour and humbleness,, of greatness crossed by the 
shadow of death. 

But the om-m of the last clause is the crux of the com- 
mon interpretation. When it is said, " crowned in order 
that He might taste death," to make the " crowning " 
subsequent to the " death " is literally preposterous. The 
connexion is just as obvious and straightforward in the 
Greek as in the English. None of the many ingenious 
attempts that have been made to escape this inference, and 
to turn purpose into consequence — by shifting the order 
of the words, or by evading the force of the conjunction — 
is in the least satisfactory. 1 Surely the apostle must be 
allowed to have his own mind, and to be capable of ex- 
pressing himself with reasonable plainness. No Greek 
reader, we venture to affirm, coming upon these words 
for the first time, and without theological prejudice, could 
have guessed that they meant anything else than that 
Jesus was crowned with the purpose that He might offer 
for all men the sacrifice of His death. 

St. Paul's teaching in Philippians ii. 5-11 has, it seems 
to us, dominated the exegesis of this text greatly to its 

1 This applies, we say it with profound respect, to Dr. Edwards' rendering : 
bs ni ! .gfru ^"UJ /?e$tto g^it^eAdattiferreB V&*d' he n u ; >L ,- r - " n esO" 

fte^ftanca i 


injury. Sublime and precious as the doctrine of that 
passage is, it does not contain the whole of Christology. 
The view it presents of Christ's earthly life as a state of 
exinanition and humiliation is that of a man in whose 
memory everything else paled . before the vision of the 
celestial Jesus he had seen on the way to Damascus. But 
our author looks with different eyes; and he teaches us 
a truth only less important, and complementary to that 
enforced by the Apostle Paul. The life of Jesus was far 
other than one of mere ignominy and obscuration. From 
the Divine and heavenly side it was indeed a dark eclipse ; 
but from the earthward side it was a splendid revelation. 
As His disciples looked upon His face, and watched His 
miracles, and listened to His words, " such as never man 
spake," and felt the spell of the moral majesty that clothed 
His person, the saying of the eighth Psalm must often, one 
thinks, have come to their minds. Seeing Jesus in the 
gospel story, we ourselves " glory in the Lord," and exult 
to think that He hath so regarded our low estate ; we 
exult to think that humanity is thus ennobled, and that 
" He is not ashamed to call us brethren." 

Or. G. FlNDLAY. 



The fall title of Archdeacon Farrar's new work accurately de- 
scribes it: JAzt* of the Father*: S^iteka of Church History in 
Isi"g,-apK*j ; and the idea he has had in writing it may be gathered 
from the motto which he derives from Bishop Wordsworth and 
places on his title-page, ** The history of the Church is repre- 
sented in certain respects by the history of her great men." He 
has no intention of rivalling Bishop Lightfoot's Ap*:>'lic Falhers 7 
or of earning so rare an encomium as was pronounced on that 
masterpiece by the most competent judge, Prof. Harnack, when 
be declared it to be "the most learned and careful patristic 
monograph which has appeared in the nineteenth century." His 
intention has been to " connect the history of the Church during 
the first four centuries with the lives of her principal Fathers 
and teachers." This has been admirably done by Bdhringer in 
his Kirchengeschichte in BvKjraphieen, a book which deserves to 
be translated and which is written in a style rarely attained by 
German theological writers. But Dr. Farrar has judged it expe- 
dient to give less attention to questions of abstract theology than 
Bdhringer. This will be regretted by some readers, but unques- 
tionably it will win for his book a wider popularity. 

There can be no question that there was room for such a book 
as Dr. Farrar has given us. The Fathers have always attracted 
the learned labour of scholars, but in no age has so much been 
done as in our own to illuminate the first four centuries. The 
results of research and criticism lie scattered in monographs, in 
contributions to dictionaries, in the hints and papers of specialists. 
These resnlts Dr. Farrar has brought together, has revised and 
analysed them, and uniting them with much research of his own, 
has presented them in an accessible and admirable form. Special- 
ists may find that Dr. Farrar 's omnivorous reading has not in- 
cluded some article or paper on a pet subject of their own ; but 
undoubtedly the best literature, including the works of the Fathers 
themselves and the original material for their biography, has been 
not only under his eye, but has been well digested. His most 
remarkable omission suggests that other patristic students may 

i Lives of the Fathers: Sketches of Church HUtory in Biography. By 
Frederic W. Farrar, D.D., F.B.S. 2 vols. (Adam A Charles Black.) 


also need to be informed that Mr. Ernest C. Richardson, librarian 
of Hartford Theological Seminary, has issned a Bibliographical 
Synopsis which is virtually a perfect guide to the bibliography 
of the ante-nicene Fathers. It is needless to say, for it has been 
manifest in all Dr. Farrar's writings, that he breathes easily and 
moves freely and gracefully under a ponderous mass of learning 
which would crush a less powerful man. How proud we all are 
to find him napping ! It is a feather in the critic's cap to point 
out one mistake among a thousand facts which he reads for the 
first time. Unfortunately in this work Dr. Farrar gives the critic 
occasion. It was to be expected that where so much Greek is 
quoted, misprints should occur. The expectation is realized. The 
employment of a careful reviser would have prevented this, and 
would also have altered puticoli into puticuli, and saved Dr. Farrar 
from introducing three innovations into two lines from Milton. 
Disregard for trifles is an estimable feature in a man and in an * 

author, and it is really of absolutely no consequence to Dr. Farrar's 
argument whether the Marsian war belongs to B.C. 40 or B.C. 
90 ; but there are not wanting persons who will say that if he 
is incorrect in this, he will be incorrect in other statements. Into 
other mistakes of a similar kind he has been led by his authorities. 
Thus he says : " The bodies were largely taken from [the cata- 
combs] by Pope Paul I. in a.d. 751, to save them from the relic- 
stealing propensities of Astaulph, king of the Goths." In fact, 
the ransacking of the tombs by Astaulph occurred in 752, and 
Paul did not attain the Papal dignity till 757, when Astaulph had 
already been dead for some years. 

Sometimes Dr. Farrar' s mistakes are more serious. The account 

he gives of the Ignatian Epistles is misleading. " The longer 

Greek recension consisted of fifteen letters, of which the Latin 

text was published in 1495 and in 1498, and the Greek text by 

| Harun ii t Ko^e 1 Tttir d hPft o - r p 6 

9. h 7 s F t s 

Sr SI -,rs 

o e ti2hJet st 


published by Hartung in 1557 contained the Greek text of only 
twelve epistles; and that what is known as the longer Greek 
recension really contains thirteen letters. It may also be re- 
marked that the editor here named Hartnng is more commonly 
known as Pacens, his fall name being' Valentinns Hartnng Frid, 
which in the customary way he Latinized into Pacens. By a 
misprint on the following page the edition of Toss is represented 
as published in the same year as Ussher's, whereas it appeared 
two years later. 

Bnt enough of such picking of holes. These little flaws do 
not enter into the substance of the work, which is throughout 
solid and well- wrought. It is freely and vividly written, and 
those who are best acquainted with the Fathers and their writings 
will know how much is implied when it is said that from the 
first page to the last Dr. Farrar's work is intensely interesting. 
He has entered with the fullest intelligence and with sensitive 
human sympathy into those early times, and has vitalized them. 
He has taken the Fathers out of the hands of scholars and theo- 
logians, and made them common property and companionable 
figures. Dr. Farrar has never used his great gifts and acquire- 
ments to better purpose than in dissipating the dreariness of 
that remote period of Church history, and in dispelling the mists 
in which a false and narrow ecclesiasticism has enveloped the 
Fathers. And it is matter of congratulation that this book, which 
most successfully popularizes their teaching, at the same time 
exposes the childishness of many views and usages which, because 
primitive, have gained currency. There can be no doubt that 
Dr. Farrar's volumes will find a response in many a candid mind. 
He has produced a book which will long be a standard work. It 
fills, and fills excellently, a serious gap in our literature. It will 
be widely read, and wherever it is read, it will not only give 
pleasure by its graphic pictures and eloquent passages, but will 
convey important information which it is most desirable that the 
public should know. 

R DtDS. 



Hebrew Grammars. — Two important works on Hebrew grammar 
have appeared from leading Old Testament scholars, one by Dr. 
Green, of Princeton, the other by Dr. Harper, of Yale. 

The work l by Dr. Green is a new edition of his grammar pub- 
lished twenty-seven years ago, with which American and English 
scholars are well acquainted. "While it bears marks of careful 
revision throughout, the syntax has been recast, and has been 
enlarged from forty-seven pages in the old edition to one hundred 
and twenty-seven in the new. Dr. Green's grammar is the most 
complete treatise that we possess on the Hebrew language in 
English, and it does not suffer in comparison with the best Hebrew 
grammars in German. Taking into account its exhaustive indices, 
it possesses incomparable advantages over mere translations of 
German Hebrew grammars. 

The most serious blemish in this treatise, as we think, is the 
retention of the old terminology, preterite and future, not because 
it is old, but because it seems to be pretty well established that 
the Hebrew verb does not exhibit distinctions of time, but rather 
of action or state, as complete or incomplete. Indeed this dis- 

t{ t{ n am \ ds b, e e' e° e 


Schodde, while admitting that the Pentateuch does not furnish any 
direct testimony to prove " that Moses himself wrote or caused 
to be written the whole of the five books," finds strong indirect 
testimony, which is sustained by the New Testament. Nevertheless 
he says the Pentateuch is not Mosaic " in the sense that every 
word of it was written by the lawgiver, but in the sense that the 
laws were promulgated through him." Beecher adduces the testi- 
mony of the historical books, save Chronicles, to the authorship of 
the Pentateuch ; Terry that of Chronicles ; and Harmon of the 
prophetic and poetical books of the Old Testament. Dwinell treats 
in a dogmatic tone of " the higher criticism and a spent Bible." 
Streibert presents the difficulties of the new hypothesis, and 
Hemphill emphasises the validity and bearing of the testimony of 
Christ and His apostles. Osgood directs especial attention to the 
peoples among whom the children of Israel originated and attained 
their majority, — Assyria, Egypt, and ancient Syria, — and argues 
against the assumption of those critics who believe them to have 
been an ignorant horde of barbarians, and entirely destitute of the 
first pre-requisites of a literature in the time of Moses. 

Exegesis. — The year has not been fruitful in commentaries. A 
little pamphlet (50 pp.) by Rev. William C. Daland, on the Song 
of Songs, is worthy of mention. He considers the Song of Songs 
a drama in five acts, a product of the wisdom literature of the 
time of Solomon, and that the object of it is to set forth the tri- 
umph of woman's virtue over the powerful seductions of Solomon. 
He finds in it a companion piece to the book of Job. The trans- 
lation is beautiful, and the notes are brief and pertinent. 

Antiquities. — A book especially adapted for the wants of Sunday- 
school teachers on Biblical Antiquities, 1 has been prepared by 
Dr. Bissell, whose name has been already mentioned. It is 
divided into three parts: "Domestic Antiquities," "Civil Anti- 
quities," and " Sacred Antiquities." Dr. Bissell's previous studies 
have fitted him pre-eminently for the preparation of such a work. 
It indicates industry and research, but does not enter into the 
discussion of critical questions. 

Samuel Ives Curtiss. 

1 The American Sunday-school Union, Philadelphia, 1888. 



La Langae parlee par N. S. Jesus-Christ sor la Terre. 1 

— The Syrian Archbishop of Damascus, in commnnion with the see 
of Borne, has published in the Revue \Uustree de la Terre Saiute et 
de V Orient catKolique^ a very lucid, fact-fall, and cogent discussion 
of the question indicated in the above title. As the most reverend 
author states, and as I was assured myself at Damascus, that once 
learned city is now more destitute than ever of the varied critical 
apparatus necessary for the researches of the scholar. This essay 
is therefore not to be compared with the article, from a biblio- 
graphical point of view especially, so exhaustive of Dr. Neubauer, 2 
who so thoroughly disproves the theory of Mark Pattison, that 
a good librarian cannot also be erudite. This is what the arch- 
bishop claims to have shown : that the Jews of Palestine, in the 
time of Jesus Christ, wrote in " Chaldee " and rarely in Hebrew ; 
that the proper names of persons and places used by them were 
often " Chaldee " ; that the words pronounced by our Lord, accord- 
ing to the New Testament, and those addressed to Him, prove 
that the language then prevalent in Palestine was " Chaldee " ; 
that the name of Greeks was often given then to other nations, 
to distinguish them from the Jews, who consequently were not 
Greeks by language ; that there were at Jerusalem, and in other 
cities of Palestine, Jews distinguished from others by their use of 
Greek (which they had learned in foreign countries) ; that for the 
Jews of Palestine the Bible had to be translated into " Chaldee," 
and not into Greek; that the use of "Chaldee," at least in 
literature, continued among the Christians of Palestine down to 
the thirteenth century, and even later, and among the Jews even 
to our own time ; lastly, that Greek only became predominant at 
Jerusalem at the beginning of the second century. The most 
interesting part of the essay begins at section 7, which treats 
of the vicissitudes of the Syro- Palestinian dialect. The student 
would do well to read first the column relative to the subject in 
Ndldeke's article, u Semitic Languages," in Encyclopaedia Britannica; 
he will then have a framework into which he can set the facts 
put together by Archbishop David. The chain of facts is indeed 

i Paris, aux bureaux de l'oeuvre dea feolee d'Orient, 1889. 

3 Studio. Biblica, vol. i., t • 39-74. , 
n t t i 

BEEVIA. 239 

complete. Even after the Jewish Aramaic ceased to be spoken, 
through the invasion of the Arabs and their tongue, the Melchite 
Church (comp. Tozer, The Church and the Eastern Empire, p. 74) 
continued to use Syro-Palestinian as its sacred tongue, and since 
the end of the last century manuscript records of this dialect 
have been gradually collected. Even now, at no great distance 
from Damascus, there are three villages, the chief of which is 
called Ma'lula, in which the language of Jesus Christ, or a dialect 
differing little from it, is spoken. 

In sections 8 and 9 the archbishop examines the difficulties 
connected with the Septuagint version. Perhaps he exaggerates 
the degree of hostility to Greek among the Jews of Palestine in 
the time of the Ptolemies, but it was an easy task to refute the 
argument which the opposite side had set up. In fact, altogether 
one may value this essay more for its facts than for its argument 
— lucid as this may be, — and most of all perhaps as a specimen of 
the critical insight of the learned Syrian. The author does not 
absolutely reject the opinion that our Lord and the apostles read 
the Scriptures in Hebrew, but thinks it much more probable that 
they used an Aramaic version. In a footnote he justifies the 
former view by Jerome's notice, in his thirty-sixth letter to Pope 
Damasus, that he employed for his own Latin translation the 
Hebrew Bible used in the synagogue of Bethlehem. 

Not the least interesting passage in the essay is an expression 
of patriotic opinion which " a learned Oratorian of London," 
Father Philpin de Riviere, criticises in a letter to the same review 
in which the archbishop's paper was printed. " Always," says the 
archbishop, "it will remain a most memorable 'and surprising fact, 
that Hebrew was so lightly esteemed in the early Christian 
Church ; that the original Bible, written in that tongue, was only 
admitted at a much later time ; and that no part of the New Testa- 
ment was written, or at least preserved, in Hebrew ; that no one 
thought of giving to Jewish converts the New Testament trans- 
lated into Hebrew; that, while the unconverted Jews employed 
the Hebrew tongue in their writings, nothing was written, or at 
least preserved, in the Christian Church in the language in which 
God had spoken to the patriarch and the prophets. First Greek, 
then Latin and Syriac, in which the first monuments of the church 
were written, have not allowed Hebrew to say even a word." This, 
he says, accounts for the fact that the New Testament, as well as 

2 «) BREVIA. 

the " Deutero-canonical " books of the Old Testament, and all the 
Apocryphal books having relation to the Holy Scripture, have 
come down to us only in Greek. But, he adds, we must not infer 
from this that the whole of the New Testament was written in 
Greek ; and not only the first gospel, but the " Epistle of St. Paul 
to the Hebrews," was written in Hebrew or (rather) in Syro- 

In the appendix, Archbishop David makes modest and graceful 
recognition of Dr. Neubauer's valuable work, and expresses a 
difference of opinion on some points of detail. Like that " learned 
academician " (is there any subtle irony ?) however, he accedes to 
the new view of M. Halevy, that St. Paul's Aramaic phrase in 
1 Corinthians xvi. 22 should be read " Mai-ana t ha" i.e. " Onr 
Lord, come." He also touches on the further question, "Did 
our Lord ever speak Greek ? " After examining the passages of 
the gospels relative to non- Jewish persons who came into contact 
with our Lord, his answer is the negative. Similarly for the first 
disciples ; but he makes an exception for the great discourse of 
Stephen in Acts vii., inasmuch as the assembly which he addressed 
seems to have consisted exclusively of Hellenists (Acts vi. 9). Is 
there any Semitic scholar of eminence, or any one well versed in 
later Jewish history and literature, who holds a different opinion 
on this whole controversy from Archbishop David and Dr. Neu- 
bauer ? Here and there an argument may be forced, but the 
general position is, from a philological and historical point of 
view, unassailable. 

T. K. Cheynb. 


When we come to inquire closely about the Apostles, and 
when we consider the acknowledged part played by them 
in an event so stupendous as the spread of Christianity, we 
may well be astonished to find how very little we know 
about any of them, except two or three. How immense was 
the dignity assigned to them is shown by the promise of 
Christ, " When the Son of man shall sit on the throne of 
His glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging 
the twelve tribes of Israel." And how rapidly the grandeur 
of their position was acknowledged, even among the earliest 
groups of Gentile converts, we see from St. Paul's allusion 
to " the Twelve " as a recognised designation, and from 
the fact that St. John, as far back as the days in which 
he wrote the Apocalypse, sees the names of " the Twelve 
Apostles " graven on the twelve precious stones which are 
the foundations of the City of God. And yet, from this 
little body of the first Preachers and Witnesses of the 
Gospel, who had been with Jesus from the beginning, two 
only — St. Peter and St. John — are really well known to us. 
There are three of " the glorious company of the Apostles " 
— James the Little, 1 Jude the son of James, and Simon the 
Canansean or Zealot — of whom we cannot be said to know 
anything whatever, though St. John does record a single 
question of "Judas, not Iscariot. , ' 8 Of Matthew nothing is 
recorded except his call and his farewell feast ; of Bartho- 
lomew absolutely nothing, unless we regard as certain the 
conjecture which identifies him with Nathanael ; of Thomas 

16 *& H tf n » < A}** - " * * ygo W V 10. " 2 de 

b f i ' ' h h 

a m ul o 


**A PL^ip ani Andrew crJr it: :t three irrf-Vnta are 
narrated, iciLt sf whiih bare Iiiiie brarrr.g on their histaiy 
or chancier. We are enabled inieed to see deep into the 
hearts of Sii^on Pe:er ani of J~Ias Iscari:t, and the figure 
of John stands o^t clear to us. n:>t only in the Gospel story f 
b^t in Lis own writings, ani in the subseq^en* history and 
traditfon of the Chorch. B^t of James the son of Zebedee 
we hare lit tie fccid us, except that, with Peter and John 
— and to a lesser degree Andrew — he belonged to the 
innermost circle, the imXucrw iKXecrorepoi, of oar Lord's 
disciples. In this capacity the first three alone were ad- 
mitted into His immediate presence at the raising of the 
daughter of Jairus, at the Transfiguration, and in the Gar- 
den of Gethsemane. Bat in the three special incidents 
with which St. James is connected in the Gospels, he is 
associated with bis brother John. John was the younger 
brother, yet greater prominence is accorded to him as being 
especially " the disciple whom Jesus loved," and as having 
been marked oat earlier for the ranks of the Apostolate. It 
is a remarkable fact that in his own Gospel he never men- 
tions bis elder brother by name ; though this may be due 
to the same sublime reticence which made him pass over 
the name of bis mother, 1 and only speak of himself by peri- 
phrasis and in the third person. 

It would be very interesting to know the extent to which 
the Apostles were drawn from the immediate families of 
Christ's own relatives, but unfortunately we are left to con- 
jecture. The early tradition of the Christian Church was 
to a great extent fragmentary and anecdotical, and we are 
only able to arrive at possible or probable hypotheses on 

many subjects of which we would fain have known more. 

uttlea t wn an. .1 

narrated flftar. 


names in common use, and those who bore them had to be 
distinguished from each other by patronymics or descriptive 
adjectives. Even in the little group of Twelve Apostles 
there were two Simons, and two Judes, and two Jameses ; 
and besides these there was another James, another Simon, 
another Jude among " the brethren of the Lord." l In the 
same narrow circle there were also three Maries, and three 
or four who bore the name of Joseph and Joses. Perhaps 
however it was by the express purpose of Providence that 
we were left in ignorance about the mere personal biogra- 
phies of the earliest followers of our Lord. We were meant 
to draw the lesson that they were less than nothing in com- 
parison with Him. What, after all, are the saints ? They 
are still but mortal men, "inspirati a Deo, sed tamen 
homines." " They are," said Luther, " but sparkling drops 
of the nightdew on the head of the Bridegroom, scattered 
about His hair." Even the deep silence of the Gospels 
concerning them has not prevented them from being ele- 
vated into objects of adoration throughout a great part of 
Christendom. How much would the danger have been 
increased if they had been permitted to occupy a larger 
space in the Gospel record ! 

The notion that " brethren " means " cvusms" and that 
the word " brethren " is misleading and invariabl used 


iL~sj& ierizA lie rcesfrCiTT :c 5:irc lie £m ecossns of 
tie Lcri, Ki-vt 5s3L:rjfe ttm iiit sdsscr zc lie Virgin Mary. 1 
X^r is it inrossibk: :r.u f:"=r if tbe resr-iizinz less stoud in 
tut iamb <x a g~-~AT itLar.::: t:- H:n:. F:r tradition — in 
spire of tLe ci^rultT tl*i rr j sister wfZ iLen hare borne 
the: use nagrfc' — persisfceziily hills thai Matt the wife of 
Kl^paa wm at^iber sister of the Yirzin ; iLai ih:^b Qeo- 
pa* i& a iLvnened f :r=. of C:€>:piaer, : ii was rex used as a 
Greek synoEjm for CL&Ipai. CI: pas. or Alri^as ; and thai 
AlpL^Oft was a briber of J:*se;h. If that tradition be 
correct, Matthew and Lis twin brciher Tizmas and James 
the Little, being sons of Mary and Alphaeas, were also first 
cousins of Jesus ; and Jade the son of James vanless this 
be another James, which does not seem likely) was His 
first cousin once removed. 4 The previous relationship in 
which these Galil&an youths stood to our Lord, the fact 
that they most thus have known or heard of Him in earlier 
years, throws light on the instantaneous enthusiasm with 
which some of them were ready to accept His calL 

James does not seem to have been among the multitudes 
who streamed to the preaching of the Baptist ; or, if he did, 
his presence on the banks of the Jordan is not mentioned 
in any of the records. It is probable that the necessities 
of earning his bread, and of aiding his father Zebedee in his 

rti use* to be misled by the fatal facility of ecclesiastical casuistry. John viL 5 
is decisive on this question. 

1 Four women, not three, are mentioned in John xix. 25. The Peahito eren 
inserts " and *' before " Mary the wife of Hopes." 

9 This difficulty would not be in any case insuperable, as there are certainly 
historic instances of the same thing ; and it would be all the more likely to 
occur in a country which laboured under such a sparseness of appellatives. 

* Luke xxiv. IB. 

4 Bee Matt. r. 3 ; Mark ii. 14, iii. 18 ; Luke vL 15 ; Acts i. 13. But who was 
Joses f Mary is not only called " the mother of James and Joses " (Mark xv. 
40), and " the mother of James " (Luke xxiv. 10), but simply *' the mother of 
Joses " (Mark xv. 47). Joses therefore must have been exceedingly well known 
in the group of early disciples. It is a painful illustration of the extreme 
fragmentariness of our record that we know absolutely nothing about him. 
He is not even mentioned in Christian traditions. 


precarious trade of a fisherman at Capernaum, may have 
detained him in Galilee. It is known from the Talmud 
that there was a regular sale at Jerusalem for the fish 
caught in the Lake of Galilee, and this may have necessi- 
tated the occasional residence of the younger brother at the 
Holy City, where we are told that he — alone of the Apostles 
— had a house or lodging, and where he was known to the 
servants of the High Priest. 1 

Zebedee, Zabadja or Zabdfa, since he had a boat of his 
own and hired servants, seems to have been in more pro- 
sperous circumstances than his partners Simon and Andrew. 3 
But when Jesus called the sons of Zebedee to leave all and 
follow Him, without a moment's hesitation they left the 
boat, and the nets, and the hired servants, and their 
father, to become the close and constant attendants on the 
ministry of Jesus. With Him tliey stood the storm, and the 
sultry heat of the Plain of Gennesareth, and the homeless- 
ness, and the days and nights of incessant labour and 
anxiety, and the taunts, and the pressing crowds, and after- 
wards the wanderings in heathen lands, the flight, the con- 

l j. j cealmen s , o nd Pri , 

i,t. ffcsi d n m .s . u A ca .e r a wr c lit 


away the sin of the world." His heart had been already 
prepared, both by spiritual influences and by the leadings 
of providential circumstance, to obey the call which trans- 
formed him from a young fisherman of the inland lake to 
be a leader among the Apostles, to hare Churches dedicated 
to his honour in barbarous islands of northern seas of 
which he had never so much as heard the name, and to 
become the patron-saint of a chivalrous nation by the 
Pillars of the West. 1 Strange life, strange death, strange 
glory — glory greater than that of earth's kings and con- 
querors — for the poor Galil&an boy who had once played on 
the bright sands of Bethsaida, thinking to live a life of safe j 

and happy obscurity " beneath the Syrian blue," dreaming 
in no wise of the destinies to come ! In the miraculous 
draught of fishes after the night spent in fruitless toil he 
saw the proof that the hour had come in which Jesus 
should manifest Himself to the world * ; and losing his life 
that he might find it, he left the little boat in which he had 
so often drawn out the fish from life to death to enter into 
that other little boat of Christ's infant Church, wherein, 
amid the tossing of far fiercer storms, he was to be a fisher 
of men. 

His task began at once. Very soon after the first year 
— the bright Galil&an spring and dawn of Christ's ministry 
— St. James must have become well aware that the call of 
Christ meant a lifelong sacrifice ; that it involved poverty 
and hatred ; that he would often be obliged to face peril and 
malediction, and perhaps to die at last, not happy with 
children's faces round his bed, but amid the execration of 
the religious authorities of his day, by the hand of the 
executioner, as a man charged with sedition, heresy, and 
crime. And yet how infinitely was he the gainer! Who 
would c e the lotuofethe ehdBWMtfi^hfew fP^^gu^ . ma 
d •«. , f ed 

iari** t*t«B4hJfi 1 <» at }p 


of scene TiZAc?e berroer Syz-iifca* aa5 K5erap:<lis has given 
r» tc tic iegcc:L Ti*t prr^rt zc tbe Bairn shting on the 
st£>ne az*3 ieer&z by ibe r^sass k »:■ obviously modelled 
oc thas of IteieiS' shrzig ig. the Axf^Iasuie Pefra, " the 
^usae c-f lf» CTr- - - ~ a^i nitric ty ibe perr^e of Eleosis, 
thai we nay pn bally ziier thai ibe suse taie wis related 
ai>:^rt iLe Cybeie c-f Ejerapols as ab:a the Demefcer of 
Eje^sis. a&l thai Aberkiris Las irieriiM the local legend. 
Bat h:w nn^rij T^lgarised is that paibebs legend in its 
new f cnri ! 

Tbe cr^y oiher hi client wri:i i* reciraed abo-t Aberkios 
IE his product::!: of a sriiis :f drircir.g water on the top of 
a hi^h certain. It m^st be pnssfbie *e find whether this 
fountain exists. I that a search rrr.^y-. x discover it, 
and prove in one farther instAiire that real natural pheno- 
mena were pcp^ariy aco::m!ed f:r by tbe prayers of the 
local saint. Then his arrroaching death was announced 
to him in a dream, and he prepared his tomb, engraving 
his epitaph on the altar whi?h the devil had brought from 
the Hippodrome in Borne. 

The mere recital of the useless, meaningless, and often 
absurd miracles, and of the historical, chronological, and 
geographical impossibilities in this legend, is sufficient to 
show the utterly unhistorical character of tbe biography. 
There is a tone of vulgarity and rusticity about it which 
gives it a rather low place in the class of religious romances 
to which it belongs. It mi^ht fairly be discarded as an 
unprofitable fabrication, as Tillemont has done. But the 
epitaph which is given, in a very bad text, at the end of the 
legend is a remarkable document. Several authorities, such 
as Bishop Lightfoot and Cardinal Pitra, caught the ring of 
a genuine second century Christian document in it, and 
through their remarks 1 it began to attract some notice. 

1 lightfoot, Cdossiams, p. 54 ; Pita, SpiciUfimm ScUsmvut* hL, p. 553 ; 
Duchesne, Revue des Questions Hutariqmes, Joir. 1SS3. p. 1 ; Di Bosa most 
nwmitl y and eimboaUelj in Imstrijt. Christ. VrbU Rom*. U-, p. 15. 


But it was in very suspicious company. Few spend suffi- 
cient time in so habituating their ear to the tone of second 
century work, as to be able to appreciate the ring of truth 
in it, and probably the majority would have declined to 
accept as historical a document which was enshrined in 
such an obviously unhistorical and late biography. More- 
over Aberkios is said to be Bishop of Hierapolis. Now 
precisely at the time when the biography declares him to 
have been Bishop of Hierapolis, we know on certain au- 
thority that Papias and Apollinaris successively were bishops. 
The legend makes the imperial messengers go from Synnada 
to Hierapolis in one day, but Synnada is several long days' 
journey from Hierapolis, and the principle has been laid 
down above that fidelity in local features is one of the tests 
of the better class of religious legend. Attempts which 
were made to evade these difficulties proved vain, and mere 
faith in the genuineness of the epitaph would not have con- 
vinced the world. But when part of the very altar on 
which the epitaph was engraved is now in Aberdeen, where 
it can be examined by all, and when it is found to be 
unmistakably a second century monument, and finally when 
the letters on the stone give the true text, which had been 
corrupted beyond the reach of emendation in all manu- 
scripts of the biography, doubt is at an end. 

The biography states that the altar was equal in length 
and breadth. It can now from actual measurement be said 
that the altar was one foot nine inches in length and the 
same in breadth. The total height cannot be determined, 
but if, as is common, the lower mouldings were exactly of 
the same dimensions as the upper, the altar must have been 
two feet eight inches high. The inscription was engraved 
on three sides of the monument ; on the fourth side was a 
crown, just as on the monument of Aristeas at Acmonia, 
which was described in a preceding article, No. 13. The 
first six lines of the epitaph were engraved on the side 


opposite to that which bears the crown, the next eleven 
lines were engraved on the left side, and the remaining five 
lines on the right side. There is room in the panel on each 
side for eleven lines, and the reason why so little was 
engraved on the first and most important side, which is 
now entirely lost, must have been that symbols or sculpture 
of some kind occupied part of the available space. 

In addition to discovering the original epitaph, which 
mentions the chief facts in the life of the saint, the 
systematic exploration conducted by the Exploration Fund 
has also removed the historical and geographical difficul- 
ties which were stated on the preceding page. It has 
shown that there were two cities named Hierapolis, one 
the more famous city of the Lycus valley, where Apolli- 
naris was bishop in the time of Marcus Aurelius, the 
other in the Phrygian Pentapolis, a few miles west of 
Synnada, but separated from that city by a lofty range of 
rugged mountains, so that it is a good day's journey of 
eight or nine hours from the one city to the other. About 
two or three miles south of this latter city is a fine series 
of hot sulphurous springs, on the bank of a small river, a 
tributary of the Maeander. The springs rise within fifty 
yards of the bank of the stream. Part of the gravestone of 
Aberkios is still built into the wall of one of the bathing 
houses, while a smaller part has been brought to this 
country during the last expedition organized by the Fund. 
It has been stated above that according to the biography 
the grave was outside of the southern gate of Hierapolis. 
This description of the locality shows how natural it was 
that monuments from the southern road should be carried 
to build the baths. 

The epitaph of Avircius may be thus translated, correcting 
the text given in the biography by the epigraphic evidence : 

29. " Citizen of the select city, I have, while still living, made this (tomb), 
that I may lvave here before the eyes of men a place wliere to lay my body, 


— J, who am named Avircius, a disciple of the spotless Shepherd, who on 
the mountains feedeth the flocks of His sheep and on the plains, who Ibath 
large eyes that see all things. For He was my teacher, teaching me the 
faithful writings,— He who sent me to Rome to behold the King, and to 
see the Queen (' Princess ') that wears golden robes and golden shoes. 
And I saw there a people marked with a shining seal. And Syria's 
plain I saw and all its cities, even Nisibis, crossing the Euphrates; and 
everywhere I found fellow-worshippers. Holding Paul in my hands I fol- 
lowed, while Faith everywhere went in front, and everywhere set before me, 
as food, the Fish from the fountain, mighty, pure, which a spotless Virgin 
grasped. And this she (i.e. Faith) gave to the friends to eat at all times, 
having excellent wine, giving the mixed cup with bread. These words, 
I Avircius, standing by, ordered to be wHtten : I was of a truth in my 
seventy-second year. When he sees this, let every one pray for him (Le. 
Avircius) who thinks with him. 1 But no one shall place another in my 
grave ; and, if he do, he shall pay 2,000 gold pieces to the Romans, and 
1,000 gold pieces to my excellent fatherland Hierapolis." * 

The importance of this document as a summary of faith 
and ritual in the second century has been shown briefly by 

1 I.e. who believes in the One Church, and abhors Montanus. 
8 iicXeKTrjf irbXews b ToXelrtjs tovt' iwolritra 
£Cbi>, Xv *x« (fxwepws <rd>/JMTOS Ma 0c<riv, 
otivofx 'AovipKios Ctv, b fiaOryr^s IIot/A&os ayvod, 
otipcfftv fls pbffxei vpoftdruv dytXas weSlois re, 
5 dtpdaXftobs 6s tx €t fJ^ydXovs koI Tavff bpbvvras' 
o5roj yap fi idlbafr, [SiSdcrKOtv] yp&pfiara t«jt<£, 
els 'PiA/xi?? 6s ircfiyf/ev ifiev pa<nXrjav aBprjeai 
leal ^aalXuraav Ibelv xP vff ^ FT0 ^ 0P xP wj, otc'8i\ov 
Xabv 8' etdov itcd Xafiirpap <j<ppayeT5av expvra' 

10 koX 2vplrjs t&op eWa koI &<rrea iravra, IXUnfkv, 
E6<ppdT7jv diafias, irdvTrj 8* t<FX 0V (rvvofi^Oar 
UaOXov tyup iwdfxrjy, Uteris iravrri 8£ irporjye 
koI TrapidriKC rpotpty Trdirrr\ 'IxObv avb m^y^s, 
Travfieyidrj, KaOapbv, 6v ibpal-aro UapBivos ayrl), 

15 koI rovrov iwiduKe <pLXots tadew dtd rravrbs, 

dlvov xPV^r^ typvffa, K^pafffia dtbovtra fur Aprov. 
raOra Tapcar&s etirov 'Aov4picios &8e ypa<pijvac 
ipdofi^KOffTW tros Kal befrrepov 1/yov dXyjdux. 
ravO* bpb<av cti£ai0' ifrip avrov toj b ovvcpbbs. 

20 <H> fUvroi TTjp,p<p tis ifu} krepbv nva Ofy-ci, 
el 8* othr, 'Pw/xa/ois Ofyrci durxefXta x/wff&i 
koI XfflfTV **rpl8i 'IepdroXt x € ^ a xpwra. 

I am obliged to differ in a number of points from the text as given by 
Lightfoot and Di Rossi (who differ from each other also in various details). The 
chief variations are mentioned below. 


Bishop Lightfoot in The Expositor, January, 1885, p. 1 ff., 
and very elaborately by Comm. di Rossi in the preface to 
vol. ii. of his Inscriptiones Christ. Urbis Roma. We have in 
it the writings of faith, the Church as queen in her golden 
attire, the central importance of the Roman Church, the 
seal of baptism, the Church of Syria, the intercommunion 
of the members of different Churches in different lands — all 
are associates of one Church and practise the same ritual — 
the importance of St. Paul's writings, faith as the guide of 
life, the holy sacrament of bread and wine as the body of 
Christ, Christ conceived by the spotless Virgin, Christ born 
afresh in the fountain of baptism, 1 and the name applied to 
Christ is the symbolical fish, the well-known anagram (of 
which this is one of the earliest known examples) of the 
initial letters, 'Ii/o-oi/9 Xpurrbs Beov c T*o9 Zwrqp. The docu- 
ment is also interesting as an example of the sacred poetry 
of the second century, and it has been compared with the 
famous inscription of Autun, which was discovered in 1839. 
The latter is a much later document, 3 but the first six lines 
clearly belong to an early period (probably the same period 
as the epitaph of Avircius), and are merely reproduced by 
the composer of the epitaph proper. The remarkable 
similarity of tone and spirit in the two documents furnishes 
one further proof of the close relations between the Church 
of southern Phrygia and the Church of Gaul, to be placed 
alongside of the epistle of the Churches of Lyon and Vienne 
to the Churches of Asia and Phrygia, the Lyonnese martyr 
Alexander the Phrygian, etc. 

The phrase in the second line, " before the eyes of men " 
(<t>avepm) f shows the intention of the writer. The epitaph 
was intended to be the imperishable record, amid the 

1 Di Rossi aptly quotes a Byzantine hymn, Iliry^ Maros rrfy^v wrctfuiTOs 

5 Di Rossi however seems to me to be quite right in arguing that it is in the 
style of a.d. 800, rather than of the fifth century. 


most solemn and impressive surroundings, of the testimony 
of Avircius in favour of the one and indivisible Church 
catholic, and against the separatism and the nationalism 
of Montanus. During his life Avircius took care that he 
should continue after his death to preach the doctrine of 
unity, and to protest against the Montanists, even to the 
extent of refusing their prayers on his behalf: let them 
only who think with him pray for him. 1 This important 
word is preserved to us by the contemporary epigraphic 
evidence ; and it is very unlucky that Di Eossi and Light- 
foot have preferred the feeble reading of the MSS. to the 
decisive testimony of an inscription which will be quoted 
below. The phrase " in due time " (/catpqi), loses all the 
individuality that suits the situation, and substitutes a 
commonplace platitude. The epitaph, as it has now been 
interpreted, belongs to the height of the Montanist con- 
troversy, and can hardly be dated later than a.d. 192, 
when the treatise against Montanism was dedicated to 
Avircius by one of his neighbours and friends. In respect 
of the date, I am glad to agree absolutely with the two 
high authorities whom I have just quoted, against Duchesne 
and Bonwetsch, who prefer a date about a.d. 215. The 
latest date then that can be assigned for the birth of 
ngfrw A 'r i i n 


(The Expositor, 1885, p. 11 ; IgnaL Pol, i., p. 480 ; Inscr. 
Christ Urb. Rom., ii. f preface). I regret to be unable to 
agree with the text as restored variously by these scholars, 
and in most points the text given in the Academy (in which 
I had the help of Mr. Bywater and Prof. Sanday) is I 
believe preferable. The recent texts proceed, if I may say 
so, on an uncritical principle ; no attempt is in them made to 
explain the errors of text in the manuscripts, whereas the 
text as reconstituted must explain the origin of the errors. 
These errors are, I think, due partly to actual false readings 
of the monument (which the biographer acknowledges to 
have found difficulty in reading), and partly to attempts to 
explain and modernize the text, which caused the substitu- 
tion of common forms for dialectic and poetic forms, and of 
marginal explanatory glosses for unusual expressions in the 
text. The rule then should be, that where any manuscript 
authority exists for a dialectic variety or unusual form, the 
presumption is that it was written by Avircius. 

In the first place, as to the spelling of the name, all the 

three versions agree in accepting the authority of the MSS., 

and reading lAfiepKw:. The name however is Italian, as 

will be proved below. The Latin Avircius or Avercius 

smf w tran lit ra in *d\fna the second cent in 



Line 2. KcupQ of the MSS. is falsely read from the stone ; 
the epitaph of Alexander gives <f>av€p [m] , which as I have 
rendered seems to give also a better though less obvious 
sense. Kep$ is an easy error for [<j>a]vep&[s] . 

3. For elfii I read &v, 6 : the MSS. have 6 &v 9 a trans- 
position of some scribe ; et/u is a purely modern alteration. 

4. Ovpeai, MSS. ; Lightfoot corrects to opeo-iv metri causa. 
But the ordinary form opeaiv would never have been 
altered to the unusual and unmetrical ovpeai. Avircius 
wrote ovpeaiv at the beginning of the line, in an order which 
was a favourite device with him (cf. 5, 7). A scribe restored 
the prose order of words, destroying the metre, and the 
modern editor eliminated the poetic form and restored the 
common form Speaw for the sake of the metre. 

5. Kaffopoavras, MSS. Avircius wrote /cal iravra opowrra?; 
a scribe, omitting /caC accidentally, inserted it above the 
line, a most fruitful source of error in ancient MSS. It 
was then misplaced by the next copyist, and written xaOo- 
poonrra?. Finally metre was restored by reading ttovti), which 
is twice used by Avircius. Lightfoot prefers fcadopjovras. 

6. There is a gap in this line : Cardinal Pitra restores ra 
So"}?* which gives an admirable sense, " the faithful writings 
of life " ; but it is perhaps too bold to introduce without 
any authority such an idea into the text. And how should 
such a reading have disappeared without leaving a trace ? 
I insert hthdaicav, which completes the sense, adds no new 
idea, and explains the omission, for the word is readily 
dropped by a scribe after iBlSage. 

• 7. BaalXrjav, as Lightfoot rightly shows, was understood 
by the biographer, when he transcribed the epitaph, as a 
feminine in the sense of empress. Lightfoot also rightly 
maintains that a mystic and figurative sense for the passage 
was intended by Avircius. In both these points I was 
wrong in my first interpretation. But I still hold that such 
a writer as Avircius could not have written fiaaCkrjav for 


fJaatkaav, and repeated ftaafiuaaav in the next line in the 
aenae of " queen/' Moreover the rhythm, fiaakkSp* affpqaai 
Koi fiaatkiaaar tSeir, clearly demands that the two clauses 
shall exactly balance each other. BaaiXqaw then I still 
maintain to be a correct poetic variety of the accusative of 
PaviXtis, to which many parallels can be quoted. What 
the mystic sense is (such as Lightfoot rightly requires) that 
lies in " the King " and " the Queen " whom Avircius went 
to Borne to see, I must leave to others to determine ; but 
I may add that Lightfoot's text also fails to give a mystic 
sense to fiaaiXtfar. 

11. The correct text is suggested by Lightfoot in a 
note, but not given in his text. It is owopjOevt. The 
word must have been misread on the stone. My original 
suggestion is wrong. 

12. My restoration enolpqp] is disliked by both Lightfoot 
and Di Eossi, but they confess themselves unable to dis- 
cover anything better. They seem to understand Tlavkov 
ex*v as " with Paul as my comrade," whereas I translate it 
" holding (the writings of) Paul in my hands/' and thus I 
think the line has an unexceptionable sense. The anti- 
thesis hrofiipf in penthemimeral caesura and vpofjyc at the 
end of the line is such a common device in hexameters as 
to justify itself in this case forthwith. 

14. I cannot agree with Lightfoot in doubting the refe- 
rence to the Virgin Mary. 

18. i&SofjLqicooTov, with its scansion as a four-syllable 
word, is necessitated, and may be palliated by the slurring 
of the second syllable. 

19. 6 vo&y followed by 6 <rvp<p8o$ seems to be too awk- 
ward for the style of Avircius. I think the biographer 
falsely read N for P, and that the true text is, as I have 
given, opowp. The phrase is then more characteristic of 
epitaphs, more vigorous in sense, and more on a level with 
the grammar of Avircius. 6 awyhos Lightfoot takes in the 


T b s tt 61 ^ °f Christian : this 8 ms eak. It means " anti- 
a ttYff ht .h. , y . H fr 


to the passers by. This is not probable. The date is 
supplied by the age of the writer, and the usual salutation 
is represented by the request for the prayers of the orthodox, 
which shows that opotov is required in order to correspond 
to the ordinary phraseology of epitaphs: "Let every ortho- 
dox person who sees this prove his orthodoxy by praying 
for him that is buried here." l 

W. M. Ramsay. 


VIII. The Gospel of Rest (Chap. rv*.). 

The interest of an ordinary reader of our epistle is apt to 
flag at this point, in consequence of the obscurity over- 
hanging the train of thought, and the aim of the whole 
passage relating to a "rest that remaineth." It helps to 
rescue the section from listless perusal to fix our atten- 
tion on this one thought, that the Christian salvation is 
here presented under a third aspect as a rest, a sabbatism, 
a participation in the rest of God ; the new view, like 
the two preceding, in which the great salvation was identi- 
fied with lordship in the world to come and with deliverance 
from the power of the devil and the fear of death, being 
taken from the beginning of human history as narrated in 
the early chapters of Genesis. 

One aim of the writer of the epistle in this part of his 
work was doubtless to enunciate this thought, and so to 
identify the gospel of Christ with the Old Testament 
gospel of rest. But his aim is not purely didactic, but 

i The interpretation of Geraios suggested in the second of these papers most 
be abandoned, and the more obvious interpretation as member of Oerousia is 
to be preferred. The title occurs a third time in a Phrygian inscription at 


partly also, and even chiefly, parenetic. Doctrine rises out 
of and serves the purpose of exhortation. The obscurity 
of the passage springs from the interblending of the two 
aims, the theoretical and the practical; which makes it 
difficult to decide whether the object of the writer is to 
prove that a rest really remains over for Christians, or to 
exhort them to be careful not to lose a rest, whose availa- 
bility for them is regarded as beyond dispute. In the 
latter case one is apt to think it might have been better 
to have omitted vers. 2-10 and to have passed at once to 
ver. 12, where comes in the solemn statement concerning 
the word of God. As in the previous chapter he had 
asserted without proof, "whose house are we," why could 
our author not here alsb have contented himself with 
asserting, " which rest is ours, if we lose it not by unbelief, 
as did Israel of old," and adding, " let us therefore, one 
and all of us, be on our guard against -such a calamity"? 
Would his exhortation not have gained in strength by 
being put in this brief, authoritative form, instead of being 
made to rest on an intricate process of reasoning ? 

As proof offered naturally implies doubt of the thing 
proved, it is a ready inference that the Hebrew Christians 
required to be assured that they had not come too late for 
participation in the rest promised to their fathers. Evi- 
dence of this has been found in the word 8o/cj) (ver. 1) 
rendered not " seem," as in the Authorized Version, but 
" think " : " lest any of you imagine he hath failed of it by 
coming too late in the day." 1 The exhortation to fear how- 
ever does not suit such a state of mind. It is more likely 
that the writer was led to argue the point, that the promised 
rest was still left over, simply because there were Old Tes- 
tament materials available for the purpose. He chose to 
present the truth as mediated through Old Testament texts 

1 So a number of the older commentators, and most recently Kendall, who 
says the rendering " seem " conveys no meaning to his mind. 

vol. IX. 1 8 


fitted to stimulate both hope and fear : hope of gaining the 
rest, fear of losing it. 

In so far as the section, vera. 1-10 9 has a didactic drift, 
its object is to confirm the hope ; in so far as it is hortatory, 
its leading purpose is to enforce the warning, " let us fear." 

The parenetic interest predominates at the commence- 
ment, vers. 1, 2, which may be thus paraphrased : " Now 
with reference to this rest I have been speaking of (iii. 18, 
19), let us fear lest we miss it. For it is in our power to 
gain it, seeing the promise still remains over unfulfilled or 
but partially fulfilled. Let us fear, I say ; for if we have a 
share in the promise, we have also in the threat of for- 
feiture : it too stands over. We certainly have a share in 
the promise; we have been evangelized, not merely in 
general, but with the specific gospel of rest. But those 
who first heard this gospel of rest failed through unbelief. 
So may we : therefore let us fear." When we thus view 
the connexion of thought in these two verses, we have no 
difficulty in understanding the omission of the pronoun 
{ypeU) in the first clause of ver. 2, which might surprise 
one. As in the previous chapter (ver. 6) the writer had 
said, " whose house are we," so we expect him here to say 
" we not less than they have received the good tidings of 
rest." But his point at this stage is not that we have been 
evangelized — that is, that the ancient gospel of rest concerns 
us as well as our forefathers, — but that we have been evan- 
gelized, and therefore are concerned in the threatening as 
well as in the promise. 

To be noted is the freedom with which, as in the case of 
the word " apostle " (iii. 1), the writer uses the term einrffe- 
\iafiivoi, which might have been supposed to have borne in 
his time a stereotyped meaning. Any promise of God, any 
announcement of good tidings, is for him a gospel. Doubt- 
less all God's promises are associated in his mind with the' 
great final salvation, nevertheless they are formally distinct 


from the historical Christian gospel. The gospel he has 
in view is not that which " began to be spoken by the 
Lord/' bat that spoken by the psalmist when he said, 
" To-day if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts/' 
Only when this is lost sight of can it create surprise that 
the statement in the text runs, "We have had a gospel 
preached unto us as well as they," instead of, " They had 
a gospel preached unto them as well as we." 

Not less noteworthy is the way in which the abortive 
result of the preaching of the gospel of rest to the fathers 
is accounted for. " The word preached did not profit them, 
not being mixed with faith in them that heard it." The 
remarkable point is the idea of mixing, instead of which 
one might have expected the introduction of some simple 
commonplace word such as " received " : " The word did 
not profit, not being received in faith." Had this form of 
language been employed, we should probably have been 
spared the trouble of deciding between various readings. 
The penalty of originality in speaker or writer is miscon- 
ception by reporters, copyists, and printers. Uncertain 
how the idea of mixing was to be taken the copyists would 
try their hand at conjectural emendation, changing 0-1/7*6*6- 
paafievos into avytce/cepaafjuevovs, or vice versa. In this way 
corruption may have crept in very early, and it is quite 
possible that none of the extant readings is the true one. 1 
Of the two most important variants given above, the 
second, according to which the participle has the accusative 
s m lural endin and i in agreement with e/ceivov is th o 

yt. h 


the word " mixed " receives the intelligible sense of 
" associated with," but it is open to the serious objection 
that the writer has assumed in the previous chapter that 
there were no true hearers, or so few that they might be 
left out of account (iii. 16). Assuming that the other read- 
ing is to be preferred, according to which the participle is 
in agreement with \0709, it is difficult to decide how the 
mixing is to be conceived of. Is the word mixed with faith 
in the hearer, or by faith with the hearer? and what natural 
analogy is suggested in either case ? Obviously this reading 
points to a more intimate and vital union than that of 
association suggested by the other; such a union as takes 
place when food is assimilated by digestion and made part 
of the bodily organization. But how the matter presented 
itself to the writer's mind we can only conjecture. The 
one thing certain is, that he deemed faith indispensable to 
profitable hearing: a truth, happily, taught with equal 
clearness in the text, whatever reading we adopt. 

At ver. 3 the didactic interest comes to the front. The 
new thought grafted into ver. 1 by the parenthetical clause, 
" a promise being still left," now becomes the leading 
affirmation. The assertion of ver. 2, " we have been evan- 
gelized," is repeated, with the emphasis this time on the 
" we " ; for though the pronoun is not used, oi Triarevo-avTcs 
stands in its stead. " We do enter into rest, we believers in 
Christ. 91 More is meant than that the rest belongs only to 
such as believe. It is a statement of historical fact, similar 
to "whose house are we" — Christians. Only there is this 
difference between the two affirmations, that whereas in the 
earlier it is claimed for Christians that they are God's 
house principally, if not exclusively, here the more modest 
claim is advanced in their behalf that they share in, are 
not excluded from, the rest. The writer indeed believes 
that the promise in its high ideal sense concerns Christians 
Moe afosel iebeciftno a ne • that thou ht is the tacit ssum tion 

f£2 TWO P4E4ELZS. 

a Ljxocri^ x? sljkZ !:•» Lilf th* w:r£. :f the parable. 
5:^L a view :f Lis ~~ *-*■"—-» is ref^ei Ly the rlear staie- 

mezits cf the zaraiile itscii Hs said tc Lis Fiiha. "Ix>, 
these mny rears i: I serve thee, and I never Transgressed 
a, ^-rent :: Thine" ; and so far was Lis Father 

frsnt>ilir-z this, ir treasirg is as mere cLarisai^ 
ScIf-rfgLtecTisness, thai he r^lie-d, " Sin, th:u art ever 
with ile, and all th*t is Mine is t? re." Cimrare with 
this 5:. Fiji's assernm ;f the iiessedness cf G:-d"s chil- 
dren: *" If ch^dren* then heirs : heirs :f G:-!, and j-int- 
heirs with Christ ~ riim. viiL 17 . " Whether the w?rld, 
cr life, or death, cr tr.irgs present, cr t" to eime; all 
are t;^ w 1 Ccr. iiL 22~ If Stier is right, that :Lis 
reply of the Father is only innizal. Gid's mist gracious 
promise may be withius meaning; 

Who iLen are they that are represented by the eider 
son? and what is the teaching of thai part of the parable ? 
We reply, that the elder sin, whD had served his Father 
all his life, is nearly identical with the labourers that had 
toiled in the vineyard frcm early morning ; and the mur- 
muring of the elder brcther a: seeing the prodigal received 
with festivity, and restored, with cut a word of reproach, 
to a son's place in the Father's house and the Father's 
love, is parallel to the murmuring cf the labourers who 
had borne the burden cf the day and the scorching heat, 
when they saw those who had worked but one hour, and 
that in the evening, paid as much as themselves. And the 
answer to both is the same. God's service diners from 
man's in this, that mere length of service does not count 
in the apportioning of reward. When the repentance of 
the returning rocj^al is -e^d he is restored fl^p pce _ 1 _p re fl] 


service of the late engaged labourer is honest, he receives 
an equal reward with those who have toiled all day. " God 
giveth (and forgiveth) liberally, and upbraideth not " (Jas. 
i. 5). 1 We are accepted, not according to what we have 
done, but according to what we are. 

Though the imagery of these two parables is taken from 
the relations of ordinary human life, yet the lesson is drawn 
by representing men as acting as they do not act in ordinary 
life. It never was the custom of any country to pay a 
day's wages for an hour's work ; nor to let a young man 
take his inheritance before his father's death, and then go 
away and waste it. And though the Father's action in 
welcoming the returned prodigal does not seem so strange 
to us who have been taught by Christ,' it probably appeared 
strange, and almost monstrous, to the Pharisees who 
heard it. 

Among careless readers, the impression left by the par- 
able of the Labourers is, that it is possible to enter the 
service of God at any time of life, and at the end receive 
an equal reward with those who have served Him all their 
lives. This view however is contradicted by the parable 
itself. To the question, " "Why stand ye here all the day 
idle?" the answer was, "Because no man hath hired us." 
But if any of the labourers had, in the middle of the day, 
or even early in the morning, refused the offer of work 
in mere idleness and in reliance on the kindness of the 
owner of the vineyard, we cannot think he would have 
permitted them to come in at the eleventh hour at all ; or 
if he had, he would not have paid them a day's wages for 
an hour's work. From the language and imagery of this 
parable alone, it would be much more reasonable to infer 
that God's call to work in His vineyard, if once disregarded, 
will never be renewed. But no parable is meant to provide 

1 The Epistle of James contains so many allusions to Christ's recorded 
teaching, that it is probable this may be one of His unrecorded sayings. 


for all cases. The case of those who disregard God's call 
and their own privileges is not touched on in this parable, 
but that of the Prodigal reveals a degree of longsuffering 
of God with sinners which man* could not have dared to 
hope for. And such an inference as that God's call, if dis- 
regarded once, is necessarily withdrawn for ever, would also 
be contrary to our Lord's express teaching in the parable 
of the Two Sons (Matt. xxi. 28), where a son who at first 
refused to work in his father's vineyard afterwards changed 
his mind, and was permitted to go to work. 

The doctrine of the equality of all rewards also is doubly 
contradicted, both in the parable of the Labourers in the 
Vineyard itself, and in the conversation that led to it. In 
answer to Peter's question, "What shall we have there- 
fore?" (Matt. xix. 27) Christ replied, "Verily I say unto 
lonaodhi &P hi£ terfoHale 7 e i t ii r ' n 

aaoesd tftfti Bahhe odt 

P tav 


must not be too highly esteemed. In nearly the same 
spirit, He said on another occasion, " In this rejoice not, 
that the spirits are subject unto you ; but rejoice that your 
names axe written in heaven" (Luke x. 20). And in a 
similar spirit, when speaking of the signs and wonders that 
were to be wrought in answer to the prayer of faith, He 
adds the caution, apparently without anything to suggest it 
except the necessity for it, " Whensoever ye stand praying, 
forgive, if ye have aught against any one ; that your Father 
also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses " 
(Mark xi. 25). In the passage before us He illustrates His 
meaning by the parable of the Labourers in the Vineyard, 
and both introduces and sums up His parable with the 
warning, " Many shall be last that are first, and first that 
are last " Mattht "P dm • ' hi hest 

.aP h. 

to Pv i y 



It is now time to consider the question, how we are 
meant by our Lord to understand the position of the elder 
brother of the Prodigal, and of the earliest hired labourers ; 
and it is our opinion that whatever difficulties belong to 
these questions are produced by the attempt to read mean- 
ings into these parables which do not properly belong to 
our Lord's words, and are inconsistent with them. 

First, as to the elder son. There is, at first sight, a real 
difficulty in the case. He is introduced solely for the pur- 
pose of rebuke and warning; and yet his Father's saying, 
" Son, thou art ever with Me, and all that is Mine is thine," 
briefly and simply describes a state of privilege and blessing 
equal to the highest which man or angel can ever hope to 
attain. How is this apparent inconsistency to be recon- 
ciled? Very simply, as it seems to us. Our Lord was 
addressing the Pharisees in reply to their objection to His 
receiving sinners. He might have replied by denouncing 
their own sins ; but on this occasion He preferred, for the 
sake of argument and illustration, to take them at their 
best, and to describe a man who had attained to their own 
ideal ; one who, like St. Paul before his conversion, was 
"as touching the righteousness which is in the law found 
blameless" (Phil. iii. 6). This, it is true, was not and 
could not be the Christian ideal, for " the law was given by 
Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ " (John 
i. 17) ; but it was the ideal of righteousness held up before 
ancient Israel ; — and He so framed the parable as to show 
them the special errors and temptations of such a char- 
acter : ignorance of the gracious purposes of God towards 
sinners, and ignorance of the root of sin contained in that 
desire for some degree of independence of the Father which 
prompted the complaint, " Thou never gavest me (even) a 
kid that I might make merry with my friends." In modern 
language, we may imagine the Father answering : " You 
are most unreasonable. You serve Me these many years 1 


No doubt ; you are My heir, and in serving Me you best 
serve yourself. You never transgressed a commandment of 
Mine ! No doubt ; and are My commandments grievous ? 
I never gave you a kid wherein to feast with your friends ! 
You have always been at liberty to invite them to My table; 
and if they do not like to dine with Me, they are no fit 
company for My son." Such a reply would have been 
deserved ; but the Father made the gentle and gracious 
answer, " Son, thou art ever with Me, and all that is Mine 
is thine " ; which, if the son had ears to hear, was a keener 
rebuke. In his desire to feast sometimes with his own 
friends, apart from his Father, was contained the germ of 
that love of independence which, in its full development, 
brought his brother to riotous and wasteful living (probably, 
though not certainly, with harlots), and afterwards to the 
service of the stranger and the herding of swine. This root 
of sin is in us all ; but in him it was not so full grown as to 
bring forth death (Jas. i. 15). The purpose and meaning 
of this conversation between the Father and the elder son 
is to show what are the special dangers and temptation of 
those who, like that son, live all their lives in the habitual 
observance of the commandments of God ; and, further, 
to show the safeguard against these dangers: namely, to 
appreciate as they deserve the privileges and blessings of 
such a life. The Father's answer, " Son, thou art ever 
with Me, and all that is Mine is thine," was no new reve- 
lation ; it might have been introduced with " remember " : 
and had he rightly remembered it, he would not have 
wished to feast with his own friends apart from his Father, 
and would have loved the Prodigal for the Father's sake, if 
not for his own. 

But neither here, nor in the very similar conversation 
between the Owner of the vineyard and the first hired 
labourers, is there the slightest hint at final or eternal 
condemnation ; except only the hint addressed to the 


Pharisees in the words, "And the elder son was angry, 
and would not go in/' intimating that if they persisted in 
their rejection of Christ's teaching, they would be self- 
excluded from the marriage supper of the Lamb. I do not 
mean to deny that there have been, and may be still, many 
who regard themselves as careful observers of all Christ's 
commandments, and yet are the spiritual children of those 
who slew the prophets and crucified the Christ. And it is 
also true, and it is the chief lesson of the parable of the Ten 
Virgins, spoken by our Lord not long after to the disciples 
alone (Matt. xxv. 1), that profession of Christianity before 
the world, symbolized by the lamps, and legal purity of life, 
symbolized by virginity, will not avail to save without the 
true spirit of religion in the heart ; — without which what 
was meant to be the light, not only of the Church, but of 
the world, may " burn dim like a lamp with oil unfed," 
and what was meant to be the salt of the earth may lose 
its sareofar tflh eb fee 00 aons h. i.utnroe*ea lr n€ 


primary, simple, and obvious; the other secondary, and 
more recondite and hidden. 

In the parable of the Prodigal, the primary lesson is 
that God is willing to welcome repentant prodigals, and 
that men ought to welcome them; — that God forgives freely 
and without upbraiding, so that when repentance is sincere 
restoration is complete. In that of the Labourers, the 
primary lesson is the kindred one, that those who enter the 
service of God late in life shall notwithstanding, if their 
service is sincere, be placed on an equality, in the final 
distribution of rewards, with those who have served God 
all their lives; — that mere length of service does not count 
at all in the apportioning of heavenly rewards. 

The secondary lesson of the parable of the Prodigal is a 

warajQQ f { T tm ° A .ti"Bmmn e ho ifc 

wrai t 

rs flb 1 

Gtin ^ f 
1 O 


appreciation of that which they already enjoy, and more 
love and confidence towards their heavenly Father and 
Master. Although in the heavenly kingdom the principle 
of reward is recognised, and eminent services shall be emi- 
nently honoured, yet even in the apportionment of reward 
there is no place for boasting ; we" are not under law, but 
under grace " (Eom. vi. 14) ; and the Lord looks chiefly, 
not to the service done, but to the spirit in which it is 
done. If they learn rightly to understand this, their trust 
and love towards their Master and Father will make it 
impossible to have any feeling of jealousy towards those 
whom He has set on an equality with them. But if such 
feelings, natural as they are, are not overcome, those who 
are the first in length or amount of service may be the last 
in their Lord's favour; — not excluded from the kingdom, 
but last and least in it. 

But are patient toil and endurance in the Master's service 
to have no reward of their own? are they to be, in the 
eternal kingdom, as though they had never been ? It can- 
not be so. There will be no comparing and balancing of 
claims ; — 

" Heaven rejects the lore 
Of nicely calculated less or more " ; ' 




and it will perhaps be said by some of our readers that we 
are arguing in its favour. 

We certainly do not mean to take the part of the elder 
brother against the prodigal, and of the first hired labourers 
against the last. This would be to take their part against 
the Teacher who spoke these parables in order to refute 
their errors. But we think that readers of the gospels — 
perhaps even some who themselves fall into the same errors j 

when occasion arises — are generally too hard on them. It 
seems to us a total misunderstanding of Christ's words to 
say that the elder son and the first hired labourers are 
for their murmuring excluded from the kingdom, and have 
their portion among the unfaithful and the hypocrites. This 
is contradicted in the case of the elder son by the words 
of his conversation with the Father ; and in the case of the 
first hired labourers by the fact that the parable was spoken 
to the Twelve, immediately after the promise of the highest 
honour in the Messiah's kingdom which an Israelite could I 

imagine. The purpose of these parables is not to threaten 
condemnation, but to warn the hearers against the errors 
to which those are specially liable who spend their lives 
in the service of God. But so far from agreeing with the 
notion that the elder son, who has never transgressed his 
Father's commandments, is rather worse than a prodigal ; 
or that the labourers " take their penny and are damned " 
for their displeasure with an action on their Master's part 
which would displease any man who had never heard of the 
like, it is our belief that the faults of temper displayed by 
them, and by very many disciples of Christ since then, are 
not by any means faults of wickedness, but are chiefly due 
to deficiency of imagination. These persons are typical 
men of the old moral world. Christ has introduced new 
and higher principles of thought and action, but the Gospel 
must be based on the Law. Such men are certainly not 
typical Christians, but neither are the labourers who were 


hired at the eleventh hour, and still less the returned 
prodigal ; — the typical Christian is the elder brother when 
he is reconciled to the returned prodigal, and the labourer 
who, after bearing the burden of the day and the scorching 
heat, learns graciously to acquiesce in his Master's action 
in placing on an equality with him the labourer who entered 
at the eleventh hour. 

Joseph John Mubphy. 


Professor Huxley's article on Agnosticism in the February 
number of the Nineteenth Century is one of uncommon 
interest. The bits of mental autobiography with which he 
favours us are both instructive and captivating. He cham- 
pions moreover the position of a much-read novel, and 
assumes that belief in Christianity is entirely a question of 
the worth of a group of historical records that have hitherto 
been supposed to reflect its origins. He also restates some 
of the old difficulties arising out of the triple narrative of 
the Gadarene demoniac, and ventures to stake the credibility 
or otherwise of the gospel traditions upon the truth or 
falseness of the psychology that underlies the narrative. 
In conclusion, he tells us that " the choice then lies between 
discrediting those who compiled the gospel biographies and 
disbelieving the Master whom they thought to honour by 
reservin su £ s h f Hi authorit n L 

u d sr c 


" I find in the second gospel a statement, to all appearance intended 
to have the same evidential value as any other contained in that history. 
It is the well-known story of the devils who were cast out of a man, and 
ordered or permitted to enter into a herd of swine, to the great loss or 
damage of the innocent Gerasene or Gadarene pig owners. There can 
be no doubt that the narrator intends to convey to his readers his own 
conviction that this casting out and entering in were effected by the 
agency of Jesus of Nazareth, that by speech and action Jesus enforced 
this conviction ; nor does any inkling of the legal and moral difficulties 
of the case manifest itself. 

" On the other hand, everything that I know of physiological and 
pathological science leads me to entertain a very strong conviction that 
the phenomena ascribed to possession are as purely natural as those 
which constitute small-pox : everything that I know of anthropology 
leads me to think that the belief in demons and demoniacal possession 
is the mere survival of a once universal superstition, and that its per- 
sistence at the present time is pretty much in the inverse ratio of the 
general instruction, intelligence, and sound judgment of the popula- 
tion among whom it prevails. Everything that I know of law and 
justice convinces me that the wanton destruction of other people's 
property is a misdemeanour of evil example. Again, the study of 
history, and especially that of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth 
centuries, leaves no shadow of doubt on my mind that the belief in the 
reality of possession and witchcraft, justly based, alike by Catholics and 
Protestants, upon this and innumerable other passages in the Old and 
New Testaments, gave rise, through the special influence of Christian 
ecclesiastics, to the most horrible persecutions and judicial murders of 
thousands upon thousands of innocent men, women, and children." 

It is an assumption at once audacious and ambiguous 
that the phenomena ascribed to possession are " as purely 
natural as those which constitute small-pox.' ' Possibly the 
professor may leave the door ajar for his escape from all 
the issues of the statement by making the word "natural " 
embrace both the known and unknown laws and the seen 
and unseen factors in human mind and life. This critical 
scientist would perhaps scarcely venture to say that these 
phenomena admit of a purely physical explanation, as any 
such assertion might leave out of account some of the facts of 
recent psychological research. Once allow that the energy 
of evil may gather itself up into unseen personal centres, 


Amongst heathen people I have met cases of derangement 
that have seemed to come very near to those of the New 
Testament type. The fatalistic tone of heathen thought 
may favour this condition of mental helplessness and auto- 
matism. Under the influence of the Christian faith, the 
will may he so strengthened and the mind so replenished 
with light and knowledge, that the prostration is scarcely 
possible that leaves the soul helpless in the presence of the 
mysterious forces of darkness that prey upon it. Admit 
that malign and disturbing influences from the unseen may 
act upon the human soul, and these abnormal phenomena 
will be sure to appear where the will is terrorised into 
helplessness, and the defences of man's higher faculties dis- 
mantled by degrading forms of idolatry. 

Some of the curious instances in which impressions have 
been transmitted from brain to brain without any of the 
ordinary processes of contact suggest the existence of occult 
laws of influence by which all the phenomena of possession 
might be brought about. Not a few marvellous illustra- 
tions of what has been called " telepathy " were brought 
together in the Nineteenth Century several years ago, and 
the names connected with the incidents put them beyond 
all possibility of question. The Eev. J. M. Wilson, head- 
master of the Clifton College, Bristol, describes the strange 
impression that overpowered him when a student at Cam- 
bridge. One night a terrifying chill came over him. He 
seemed to have all the sensations of death. A fellow 
student endeavoured to cheer him. The strange feeling 
continued for some hours. The next day he heard that a 
twin brother in Leicestershire had died at the very time 
when he had these sensations of death. Mr. A. Severn, 
the artist, was staying at Brantwood, Coniston. He went 
for a sail on the lake before breakfast. A sudden change in 
the wind caused the tiller to swing round and strike him 
violently in the face. At the very hour his wife, who was 

"^..^ 1"^i •*a.I* --a-'t r.-v^^ r* if it its: oe- 


' j 2 : 

\ . 

,'- „1 


•i ^L" 5 " 1 




-^ei u ize 

A - # 


,**• . 

4 > i 

^ <XO". 


-* r ~- ■? 

;c_j i:_ 


if iie jlj*::- 


1 '. 




-?— - 

.*, -•- 


lIIt iz. a lira* 


-;4 i 

v :T5 ^g^j i:c 


*s 3, > 




15 -T~: 


.ti/§ " 

v :rjL 

T irs Azrvgsd 



V; "-> 

'.'.", . 

■\ ". 

.'.* V<r 


**«» ~*~ _ 


— r- v .*> 

-: — lie seonil i<ars 

j,'r'As/f'/,fss,rr..ri *}*, ";://j f :;^ij a s^rezscririi::: *o 
*,;,^;.., ver. It be.':.^' c.-;:^i, a^I :Le enire gnip being 
?',»,', *e^ by ve.-%* w-^ 'ver. 15 Le^ir.r.; y g Tr.ia «a*J :** Herd 
'//,« />V/ 'J hratl, t t;L;iL af:rl inieed an excellent and 
'<i.i,pr',j,r'.'AUi wv**z\ to them. The cr-7-r of the nine prophe- 
cies "s,u.y,\,i>« the groip is also diferen: in the Septaagint, 
a* r/'JJ an the potion occupied by the group as a whole. 

'J ne--,c variation? between the two texts of Jeremiah have 
for Jong been noticed by commentators and critics, and 
many hypotheses have been proposed for the purpose of 
accounting for them. By some, the variations have been 
attributed to the carelessness of copyists in transcribing 
the version of the Heptuagint; 3 by others, to the incom- 

1 i\tm\\%. t<,*]>M\$i\]y ter. 8 with 52, 12-14. 

• ,li>rntfv< t 1'rolojMio to Common tary on Jeremiah (" librarionun error© eon 
fufoiii ";, TIiih explanation in certainly insufficient. 


petence and arbitrariness of the LXX translators them- 
selves; 1 others have thrown the source of the variations 
further back, supposing them to arise from the fact that 
the existing Hebrew text, and the text from which the 
LXX translation was made, exhibit two different recensions 
of Jeremiah's writings, and regarding (as the case may be) 
the one or the other of these as representing more faithfully 
the prophet's own words. 2 It is evident that the problem 
which the double text presents can never be solved by the 
a priori method of starting with a fixed conviction as to 
the necessary or inherent superiority of one of the two 
texts above the other : the only method by which its 
solution can be successfully attempted is by a systematic 
investigation of the differences which the two texts present, 
and a careful comparison of individual cases for the purpose 
of ascertaining on which side the superiority lies. And by 
several of the writers named this has been done, with more 
or less completeness, though the conclusions to which they 
have been led have not always been the same. The case is 
one, no doubt, in which it is difficult to establish a perfectly 
objective standard ; and hence different critics obtain different 
results. An impartial and judicious estimate of the claims 
that have been advanced on both sides is given by Kuenen. 8 

1 So De Wette (originally), Wichelhaus, Nagelsbach, Graf, Keil (though ad- 
mitting that in particular cases better readings have been preserved in LXX). 

3 So, but differing widely in their estimate of the fidelity with which the 
LXX translators reproduced the text of their recension, J. D. Michaelis, 
Movers, De ,Wette (later, following Movers), Ewald [Prophet*, iii. 91 f. Engl, tr.), 
Bleek (Introduction to the O.T. §§ 214-218 [in Wellhausen's edition, 1878, 
§§ 191-195]), Kuenen, Hitzig (Commentary, ed. 2, 1866, pp. xv-xviii), the Dean 
of Canterbury (in the Speaker's Commentary, p. 324 f.), Scholz (Der Massoretische 
Text und die LXX-Uebersetzung de$ Buches Jeremias, 1876). These scholars, 
however, mostly prefer themselves the text of LXX only with reserve, and 
admit, especially Ewald (who indeed practically follows the LXX hardly more 
than Graf), that the translators performed their work with more or less arbitrari- 
ness and neglect. The Dean of Canterbury, however, absolves the translators 
from these faults, but thinks that the MS. used by them was one that had 
been transcribed in haste. 

3 HutorUch-kritisch Onderzock, etc. (1863), ii. pp. 240-249. 


The foregoing remarks have been suggested by a work in 
which the entire subject has been taken up afresh, published 
recently by an American professor, the Rev. E. C. Work- 
man. 1 Prof. Workman has devoted much independent 
study to the comparison of the two texts ; and the task 
has evidently been with him a labour of love. The con- 
tents of the volume, stated briefly, are as follows. After 
some preliminary remarks on the general relation subsist- 
ing between the existing Hebrew text of the Old Testament 
and the Septuagint translation, Prof. Workman in his first 
chapter surveys the different explanations which have been 
offered of the variations occurring in the Book of Jeremiah, 
and states the method which he proposes to follow himself. 
The five following chapters are devoted to a discussion 
of these variations, which are classified in order ; viz. the 
omissions, additions, transpositions, alterations, substitu- 
tions. Chap. vii. is an examination of the causes to which 
the variations may be due ; chap. viii. consists of an estimate 
of the value of the LXX translation ; chap. ix. sums up the 
results of the entire investigation. Chap, x., however, will 
be to many the most attractive part of the work. This is 
beaded, " The Conspectus of the Variations," and contains 
in two parallel columns, occupying 116 pages, all the pas- 
sages in which the two texts differ, the Hebrew word (or 
words) being transcribed in one column, and the other 
column exhibiting the reading underlying the LXX trans- 
lation, as restored by Prof. Workman. For this, the most 
novel part of his work, Prof. Workman states in his preface 
that he has had the assistance of a Jewish scholar, Dr. S. 
Mandelkern ; and we may say at once that, judged merely 
as a piece of Hebrew translation, it is excellently done. 

1 The Text of Jeremiah ; or, a Critical Investigation of tlu Greek and Hebrew, 
with the variations in the LXX, retranslated into the Original and Explained, 
By the Rev. E. G. Workman, M.A., Professor of Old Testament Exegesis and 
Literature in Victoria University, Cobourg, Ont., Canada. With an Introductory 
Notice by Prof. Franz Delitzsch, D.D. (Edinburgh : T. & T. Clark, 1889.) 


There are occasional oversights, though seldom serious 
ones ; l and the Hebrew, as a rule (judged apart from the 
context to which it is presumed to belong), is bright and 

We turn, however, to the wider and more important 
question. Has Prof. Workman advanced the subject with 
which he deals? From what we had heard, we had 
cherished great expectations as to what Prof. Workman's 
book would accomplish ; and we perused it, when it 
appeared, with great interest: we regret therefore the 
more to find ourselves compelled to answer this question 
in the negative. We are very far from desiring to dis- 
parage Prof. Workman's labours- His honesty, his in- 
dustry, his singlemindedness are conspicuous upon every 
page ; but we are bound to say that the methods by which 
he has carried on his work appear to us to be radically 
unsound. He starts with the assumption of principles 
which really have first to be proved. He is a warm advo- 
cate of the claims of the Septuagint version ; and in his 
reaction against the depreciation with which it has been 
viewed in some quarters, in particular by Graf, he invests 
its translators with ideal excellences, and can discover in 
their work hardly any blemishes. He thinks indeed, that 
unless the translator possessed the fullest qualifications 
which the learning and training of the Alexandrian schools 
of the time could confer, he would not have been selected 

1 Thus 3, 8 p$& will not construe; 6, 8 IDID should be 2 fern.; 6, 12 
DrWWfll is a strange error for DiTWI ; 9, 15 read Dnfo (so 49, 37) ; 10, 23 
l!?i for7 fc; 12, 16 Hja^ ; 15, 18 n}$& is an impossible form; 18, 21 D&p$ni 
do. ; 22, 27 b^ is not biblical ; 23, 31 the inf. abs. should be DU ; 25, 15 
ipnn may have been read by the LXX translators, but cannot have been 
written by Jeremiah ; 25, 29 "ttPftQ the syntax is incorrect ; 28, 1. HjXPH K'lUn 
do. (also 6, 16) ; 29, 11 aBTIKJ should be HBTlfcO. (or MjaPfll); 32, 44 

thwV a^apai is not correct; 41, 5 DWK DODP do.; 49, 25 read UQK • 
51, 20. 21. 22 *nVDPn is an error for *ptyEp ; 51, 27 WhlJ for Wjp (dpare) ; 
61, 39 IDyp for VBT£. 


for such an arduous and important task (p. 7 f.). He 
believes (pp. 217, 281) that the book was translated with 
the utmost carefulness, " as literally as the genius of the 
flexible Greek language would allow, the translator or trans- 
lators having in no way arbitrarily changed the original 
Hebrew text, and having in no instance been influenced 
either by personal scruple, theological bias, or religious 
tendency.' ' 

These contentions, however, are based, in fact, on a 
priori considerations. There is no more sufficient reason 
for supposing that the translator of Jeremiah was selected 
on the ground of his special qualifications, than for supposing 
that the translator of the Minor Prophets was so selected ; 
and if so, we fancy that Prof. Workman will admit either 
that the Hebrew text of the Minor Prophets used by the 
translator was often in a singularly defective state, or that 
Hebrew scholarship at Alexandria must have been at a low 
ebb. Whichever alternative be accepted, the conclusion is 
not favourable to the unconditional and necessary superiority 
claimed on behalf of the LXX version of Jeremiah. This 
parallel is, however, only adduced for the purpose of showing 
the fallacy of the a priori argument : the question of the 
actual comparative value of the Hebrew and LXX remains 
as before; and the only method by which this can be 
ascertained is by comparing the two together, and where 
they differ by considering which is better in accord, (a) with 
the general standard of well-established Hebrew usage, 
(6) with the standard supplied in particular by the parts of 
Jeremiah where the two texts agree. When this has been 
done, we believe that it will appear that the translators 
have by no means proceeded with the scrupulousness and 
precision which Prof. Workman attributes to them. They 
have permitted themselves, in one word, like most other 
ancient translators, to paraphrase, to make additions, altera- 
tions, and omissions, especially slight ones, to a far greater 


extent than Prof. Workman allows for. Hence his restora- 
tion of the presumed Hebrew original upon which their 
translation was based rests in large measure upon illusion; 
the variations which he and Dr. Mandelkern so patiently 
reproduce in Hebrew are, in very many cases, simply more 
or less paraphrastic renderings of the same Hebrew text 
which we possess ourselves ! We entirely agree with Prof. 
Workman that much has been laid to the charge of the 
translators (especially by Graf and Keil) of which they 
are guiltless : in other words, we accept cordially the main 
principle for which he contends, viz. that the deviations, in 
a large number of cases, were already present in the MS. 
used by them, i.e. that they were recensional ; and our 
agreement with him in his main thesis causes us to regret 
the more that he has shown so little power of discriminating 
between real and only apparent recensional variations, and 
has in consequence failed in the main object which he set 
himself, viz. to exhibit, in a perspicuous and convenient 
form, the approximate text of the recension which teas in the 
hands of the Greek translators. 

We proceed to offer specimens of Prof. Workman's 
method, which we hope may be regarded as sufficient to 
substantiate what we have alleged. It will be remembered 
that there are throughout two questions, which are distinct 
from one another : 1. What is the Hebrew text underlying 
the LXX translation? 2. Is this text preferable to the 
existing Hebrew text? Prof. Workman's answer to the 
first question is stated very fully and clearly ; it occupies 
the whole of the long chapter headed " The Conspectus of 
the Variations." The second question he does not answer 
systematically, but he gives the reader to understand that 
though he does not suppose the text represented by LXX 
to be entirely free from error, he is very generally disposed 
to prefer it to the Hebrew text which we at present 


The Hebrew word /mn# firmness, in a bad sense, 
obstinacy , occurs in Jeremiah eight times; as the LXX, 
however, express it by a word of a different meaning, 
it is inferred by Prof. Workman that they had a different 
text before them, which is restored by him accordingly. 
Thus 3, 17 ivOv^fuira, W. Jl^to ; 9, 13. 16, 12. 18, 12 
ra apevrd, W. TX)HTS ; 23, 17 ir\avri 9 W. JTVH : in 11, 8 
and 13, 10 the word is not represented in LXX ; perhaps 
also not in 7, 24, though it seems to ns that J112QHD2 is 
the word which is here not represented, and that J1WTO 
is expressed, as in 3, 17, by ipOvfi^fiara. There is not the 
smallest basis for any one of these supposed restorations. 
Prof. Workman has overlooked the fact that in the two 
other places where the word occurs in the Old Testament, 
Deuteronomy 29, 18. Ps. 81, 13, it is represented in LXX 
by airoTrXdinjo-is (as by irXdmi in Jeremiah 23, 17) and 
iiriTijSevfiara : if these do not satisfy him that the LXX in 
all cases read the same word which we now have (though, 
not understanding it etymologically, 1 they rendered it by 
words more or less suggested by the context), then, as it 
is not to be supposed (upon his principles) that the trans- 
lators of Deuteronomy and the Psalms were less trust- 
worthy than the translator of Jeremiah, he is landed in 
one of these extraordinary conclusions, either, viz. that 
/lTVW, an actual Hebrew word, was seven (or eight) dif- 
ferent times expunged from the MSS. used by the LXX, 
or that three distinct words, standing originally in the seven 
(or eight) passages, were changed in the Massoretic text 
to a word not otherwise occurring in Hebrew at all ! We 
venture to think that every reasonable critic will admit that 
the " restorations " in the cases referred to are one and all 

1 As the other ancient translators did not understand it, and hence render 
differently: thus Pesh. always —jduLCZ • wishes ; Targum limM imagination; 
Aquila <r#fo\i6ri;f, whence no doubt Jerome's pravitas; Symmachus ipta/tela 
(see the Hexapla on Ps. 81, 18) ; Saadyah in Deut. ^jJb desire. 


imaginary, and that the LXX in each passage read precisely 
the same consonantal text 1 which we read now. 

We proceed to consider some passages taken at random. 
7, 26 DS"BJ n» WjTI LXX i<TK\rfpwav rbv rpdxn^ov avr&v. 
TpdxvXo?* however, happens sometimes to express 1*02 ; 
and hence Prof. Workman forthwith restores this word as 
the reading of LXX here. In doing this he neglects three 
facts : (1) that rpaxv^o? also represents *py (as Deutero- 
nomy 10, 16. 31, 27 and elsewhere, in the same phrase) ; (2) 
that "Wft SltPpn is an unidiomatic combination (unless, to 
be sure, it can be proved that wherever hardness of neck is 
spoken of in the Hebrew Bible — some seventeen times — *py 
is always an error for "W)2t !) ; (3) that he has himself left 
spy rwpn without any alteration in 17, 23 and 19, 15 !— 
14, 7 our iniquities testify against us LXX avriarTja-av, 
whence W. M2p for W, producing a most improbable 
figure in this connexion (Job 16, 8 is different), and not 
noticing that TVOf is rendered by exactly the same verb in 
LXX Deuteronomy 19, 18. Isaiah 3, 8, and especially in 
the very similar passage Isaiah 59, 12. — 11, 14. 14, 12 rtt") 
LXX 8ii)<ri<; 9 W. njMTJl and H^B/l, overlooking the fact that 
nn, the cry of prayer, is constantly expressed by Sifja-i^ in 
the Psalms.— 15, 21 D*3HJ7 oppressors LXX \oip&v, W. 
strangely DWftim (sicknesses!) But Xo*/io9 expresses the 
same Hebrew word yny in Ezek. 28, 7. 30, 11. 31, 12. 13. 
— 18, 10 have done evil in my sight ( y yy2) LXX ivavrlov 
(aov, W. 'fib before me. But see 7, 28. 40, 4 where Prof. 
Workman himself does not suggest that the LXX had any 
reading differing from ours. — 17, 27 palaces of Jerusalem, 
LXX afufwSa, W. JVlXn ; but 49, 26 no change ! 6, 5 the 
same word is rendered 0€fi4\ut; which of course suggests 
to Prof. Workman the reading JTTPD\ But JTODIN is re- 
presented six times in Amos 1-2, as well as elsewhere, by 
defiikia ; and it is certain that it is one of the many words 
1 It may be admitted that they may have vocalized as a plur. (JVntP). 


the meaning of which was unknown to some of the LXX 
translators. — 19, 5 nor did it come up upon my heart (a 
Hebrew idiom = nor did it enter into my mind: see Acts 
7, 23), LXX ov&e SievoqOrjv iv rrj /eap&la fwv, W. VOOTT NT) 
^3. It is true, LXX fender the idiom literally in 3, 16. 
32, 35. 44, 21 ; but it is far more probable that they were 
not perfectly uniform, than that such a weak expression 
should have been used as Prof. Workman restores (espe- 
cially when it is remembered that the passage is parallel 
in thought to 7, 31. 32, 35) ; moreover, in 7, 31, where their 
rendering is exactly the same, he makes no change ! — 24, 8 
and 25, 19 V~W LXX peyi<rrave<;, whence W. concludes that 
they read vbfn. Yet neyiarave? corresponds to DHttf in 34, 
10. 49, 38. 50, 35 (which he leaves unaltered !) and thrice 
in other books. — 25, 30 the Lord shall roar . . . shall 
mightily roar against his fold, LXX xprifiaTiel . . . \oyov 
'XprjIiaTLel ; W. "QT . . . "OT 121 will speak . . . 
will speak a word. There is no doubt that Prof. Work- 
man and his coadjutor can write excellent Hebrew prose ; 
but do they seriously ask us to believe that the LXX read 
this prose in theii; MS. ? Have they both forgotten Amos 
1, 2, where LXX similarly paraphrase the figure by i<f>0ey- 
garo? Is the entire Old Testament to be reconstituted 
upon the basis of a literal retranslation of the Septuagint 
Version ? In the same verse, for his fold LXX have tottov 
avrov, W. accordingly lDlpD his place. But (1) LXX para- 
phrase JTO similarly in Psalm 79, 7 ; and (2) where the 
same rendering occurs in 49, 19, no different reading is 
postulated by Prof. Workman himself ! — 32, 35 to pass 
through (the fire) to Moloch, LXX ava<j*epei,v to offer, W. 
2npr6. But Exodus 13, 12 afeXels, Ezek. 16, 21 airorpo- 
7nd^€(T0ai for the same Hebrew word, show that the trans- 
lators simply paraphrase : "to pass through (the fire) to 
Moloch " is a standing expression in Hebrew, " to offer to 
Moloch" is never found. — 49, 18 like the overthrow of 


Sodom and Gomorrha, 'y\ 'D /lMHDD LXX &<rirep teaTe- 
arpdfa 2. koI T., W. '3T\ V POBru "HMO (a similar change 
in 50, 40). The LXX render likewise by a verbal form 
Deuteronomy 29, 22; Isaiah 13, 19; Amos 4, 11. But 
surely, because Greek idiom will not admit of the peculiar 
Hebrew construction being rendered literally, Prof. Work- 
man does not propose to eliminate this classical expression 
from the pages of the Hebrew Bible? or even to suggest 
that, by some extraordinary freak of transmission, it was 
already, in five different places, corrupted into the inelegant 
form which he " restores," before the time when the LXX 
translation was made?— 50, 11 W)S)/1 LXX ia-KipTare, W 
MSfi (Gen. 49, 24), truly a case of "fumumex fulgore." 
The LXX read exactly what we read, as is clear from their 
rendering of Malachi 3, 20.— 50, 45 tfttH n*J«, LXX ret 
apvia twi/ irpo^arcov avr&v, W. D3N¥ ^TB¥ (goats of their 
flock I). But is not apvla as venial a paraphrase of 'Tyx 
little ones, as it is of ^2 young ones in Ps. 114, 4 ? 

The use of the infinitive, in lieu of the finite verb, in 
certain circumstances, is a familiar and well substantiated 
Hebrew idiom, though one which it is naturally difficult, 
and even impossible, to reproduce in another language. It 
occurs several times in the Hebrew text of Jeremiah, some- 
times (as 7, 9) with great force (Ewald, Heb. Syntax, § 
328 b ), and always in entire accordance with idiom. Because 
however LXX render, as they could not help rendering, 
by a finite verb, they are supposed to have had a finite 
verb in their text, which is everywhere restored — or 
rather corrupted — accordingly (3, 1. 7, 9. 18. 8, 15. 14, 5. 19. 
22, 14. 23, 14. 32, 33. 36, 23. 37, 21). Because the ex- 
pression D^WW "QWV inhabitants of Jerusalem is some- 
times rendered in LXX oi /earotKovvTe? eV 'Iep., they are 
supposed in such cases to have had in their MS. D'QtPVH 
oWrn (8, 1. 11, 2. 9. 17, 25. 19, 3 etc.), an expression 
never found in the Old Testament. Innumerable cases 



also occur in which slight differences of tense, or number, 
or person, or construction (e.g. 5, 14 ; but contrast 7, 13. 
18. 23, 38 etc.), or the substitution of a pronoun for an 
article, or the addition or absence of a small particle, 
etc., are supposed to point to different readings in the MS. 
used by the LXX, — as a rule, quite needlessly. 

It is a peculiarity of Hebrew to employ a singular, in 
many cases, where a western language would use a plural. 
Thus Hebrew writers say often "your heart" instead of 
" your hearts " ; and in general are apt to use collective 
terms in preference to true plurals, as tear for tears, chariot 
(or chariotry) for chariots, sometimes even man for men. 
Naturally in such cases, where the Hebrew has a singular 
term, the LXX have used a plural in accordance with the 
prevalent usage of the Greek language. Prof. Workman, 
however, believes that in all such cases — all, at least, which 
he has not overlooked — the LXX actually had plurals in 
the text which they used ; and the plural for the singular 
figures in his " Conspectus of Variations" accordingly! Ex- 
amples : 2, 22. 3, 2. 5, 7. 7, 22. 11, 20. 12, 9. 13, 17. 14, 20. 16, 
18. 18, 23. 23, 14. 31, 33. 34. 32, 23. 36, 3. 47, 2. 48, 35. On 
account of the Greek Sdxpva, the unnatural /liyDT for 7X}fiyi 
is restored in 8, 23. 9, 17. 13, 17. 14, 17. 31, 16. Where the 
Greek has apfiara, D % 23"1 (which occurs once only in the 
Old Testament, Cant. 1, 9) or J113D1D is supposed always 
to have been read by the translators : 17, 25. 22, 4. 46, 9. 
47, 3 (here in an impossible form vril), 50 37. 51 21. In 
11, 11 Behold, I bring evil upon them, the LXX have 
tcaxd : accordingly Jlijn is declared to have been their read- 
ing; yet, by another of the inconsistencies which are so 
conspicuous in Prof. Workman's book, 1 in 6, 19. 19, 3. 35, 

1 See besides those which have been noticed, 6, 22 compared with 25, 32. 31, 
8. 50, 41 ; 6, 24 (where m?1 % 2 Dv3n is contrary to usage) compared with 50, 
43 ; 11, 22 with 29, 32; 14, 1 with 7, 22 ; 42, 20 with 42, 2. 7, 16. 11, 14. 14, 
11 etc. 


17. 45, 5, where the same phrase occurs, no change is con- 
sidered necessary. Hebrew writers speak uniformly of 
delivering into the hand (not hands) of so and so — whether 
a singular or plural follows : LXX usually have efc ^etpa?, 
and HU is duly recorded as having been their reading (20, 
4. 5. 21, 7. 10. 22, 25. 26, 24 and passim). On this we would 
observe that the standing usage of the Old Testament is 
T2 not H^2 : which supposition then is the more probable ? 
that the LXX simply wrote "into the hands" for "into 
the hand " ; or — for these are the alternatives — either that 
the Hebrew text of the entire Old Testament is so corrupt 
that we do not know what was idiomatic in Hebrew and 
what was not, or that Jeremiah himself deserted the idiom 
of his own language, or that a scribe, who of course must 
also have been conversant with Hebrew, introduced through- 
out the Book this un-Hebrew expression ? 

Hitherto we have confined ourselves to the first of the 
questions stated above, and have endeavoured to show cause 
why we cannot accept Prof. Workman's restoration, as a 
genuine representation of the Hebrew text used by the 
LXX. Let us next approach his restoration from a dif- 
ferent point of view, and (accepting it, provisionally, in the 
form in which he sets it before us) inquire how far it can 
claim superiority to the existing Hebrew text. We must 
be brief; and our opinion will perhaps be sufficiently indi- 
cated if we take two or three chapters and compare the 
two texts. In chap. ii. the conspectus exhibits seventy-five 
variations (or groups of variations) between the Hebrew 
and the presumed original of the LXX. Of these we should 
say that about twelve are, or might plausibly be argued to 
be, better than the corresponding readings in the Hebrew, 1 

1 2, 6 TXOV (see 51, 43) ; 12 ; 20 ♦J-rQB' and >flpn3, and 1111^ (as the Kt.) 
21 (though not as Prof. Workman restores, but as is suggested by Graf, viz, 

rn'npb for n mo ^, cf. Deut. 32, 32-™^) ; 27 ^rrf>''; so ain, unnzh, 

and^bntfV *b\ ; 31 WDP ; 33 K©&^ tfnq m D3 ; 34 nn ; 53 n^T^tf. 


about twenty-four are neutral — the sense differing so 
slightly, that it is impossible to say that either is superior 
to the other, — and about thirty-nine are decidedly worse, con- 
sisting often of phrases which Jeremiah himself could not 
possibly have written. We have no space here to examine 
the passages in detail ; but we can assure our readers that 
we have considered them carefully, and without the smallest 
bias against the LXX. In chap, vii., out of some fifty-six 
variations (disregarding the two long omissions in vers. 1-2, 
27), only one appears to us to offer a reading preferable to 
the Hebrew, viz. the omission in ver. 24 of (not JTTTW3, but) 
/VttyiM, " in counsels " (which from its imperfect construc- 
tion may not improbably be a gloss) ; of the remaining 
fifty-five, about twenty-six appear to us to be neutral, and 
about twenty-nine inferior to the present Hebrew. We 
cannot however conceal our persuasion that the majority 
of these variations are not " recensional " at all, but are 
simply due to a slight freedom in rendering on the part of 
the translators, or (in some cases) to their haying misread 
or misunderstood their Hebrew text. In point of fact, out 
of the fifty-six variations noted by Prof. Workman in chap, 
vii., we should say that about twenty 1 might fairly be treated 
as " recensional," though whether they are all actually so 
is more than we can take upon ourselves to say, — probably 
not ; the rest we should attribute, without the smallest 
hesitation, to one or other of the causes just indicated. 
Mutatis mutandis, our judgment would not be substantially 

In his view of 13 T) ver. 31 (p. 237), Prof. Workman has gone entirely astray. We 
cannot admit that the LXX translation proves in to mean " be lord," but, 
allowing that it does, ov /ctyxti>07/<r6,ue0a would express not 13T) K7H (p. 286), 
but "ril3 fcO. And on p. 270, the originality of the inversion which he seeks 
to dispute, is surely confirmed by the UBage of the cognate languages. 

1 Viz. the omissions in vers. 1-2, 3, 4 end, 10, 13 bis, 20, 21, 24 (niVJ»03), 
26 end, 27, 28 bit ; the addition in ver. 28* (which agrees with the omission of ver. 
27); and ver. 7 p»3, 22 wSyn ; 31 HD? ; 32 DfiqO; 34 $fy and DTOf. 
We have endeavoured to be liberal to Prof. Workman ; for it is not possible to 
be confident reppeoting some of these. 


dissimilar in other parts of the book. We base this opinion 
largely upon general views. Though it is undoubted that 
the Septuagint preserves in many cases — perhaps indeed in 
more cases than is generally supposed — readings* superior 
to those of the existing Hebrew text, it is also undoubted 
that in the vast majority of cases its readings are greatly 
inferior ; so soon as it deviates from the Hebrew, a deterio- 
ration in force, and terseness, and idiomatic freshness at 
once, as a rule, begins to show itself. Can any qualified 
Hebrew scholar doubt that chaps, ii. and vii., read in the 
form in which Prof. Workman exhibits them, are inferior, 
both in intelligibility and force, to the form in which they 
appear in the Massoretic text ? Upon grounds, not based 
(as we hope) upon an unreasoning prejudice, but of our 
appreciation of Hebrew idiom, we are thus compelled to 
conclude that, on the whole, the Massoretic text exhibits 
the prophecies of Jeremiah in their more original form ; 
and this being so, it appears to us incredible that the vast 
amount of change, including many of the most violent and 
extravagant character — witness the stylistic tours de force 
in 2, 23-4. 25. 7, 16 — could have been introduced into the 
text by any scribe, or series of scribes, or at any time. For 
the variations being mostly significant, they must have been 
due to design, and yet they are of a nature which it is im- 
possible even to imagine any scribe as designedly making. 1 
The alternative supposition, that, to a certain extent, more 
than is conceded by Graf and Keil, but considerably less 
than is contended for by Prof. Workman, the variations of 
LXX are recensional, but that, beyond this, they are due, 
partly to the MS. (or MSS.) used being in places imper- 
fectly legible, partly to the fact that the translators either 
misunderstood the Hebrew, or permitted themselves some 

1 It is probably in its greater conciseness of expression that the text of LXX 
is most frequently superior in originality to the existing Hebrew text. But this 
seldom affects style. 


fre^don* in rezJierzL* h t is szrelj hczh fir in. sie fririTigihle 
in iuelf, and ali/ygeiher more h: acecriiroe wiih probability 
ar*d ata^gy. 1 

It is with sincere regret tka* vc have fcund ourselves 
compelled to pass this m^avonrahle judgment upon Pro! 
Workman's volume. E^t truth otli^es as to own that he 
is n/>t equal to the task which he has undertaken. His 
judgments are crude, superficial, and inconsistent ; and he 
is greatly deficient in the faculty of discrimination. In par- 
ticular, he has not learnt the lesson of Wellhausen's mono- 
graph, On the Text of the Books of Samuel, in which the 
distinction between variations due only to the translators, 
and variations having their source in the MS. or MSS. 
used by them, which alone, as is obvious, possess any value 
for the textual critic, is repeatedly illustrated and enforced. 
Hence his volume to the textual critic is a disappointing 
one. He does not find in it what he expects to find, rii. 
a clear and well considered estimate, based on long and 
discriminating study of the book, of what are recensional 
variations ; and he finds in it a great deal which is of no 
interest or importance to him whatever. Had Prof. Work- 
man considered the variants individually, and eliminated 
from his Conspectus all those which may fairly be re- 
garded as due solely to the translators, he would have pro- 
duced a handbook which would have been of real service 
to the student of Jeremiah ; as it is, his Conspectus be- 
wilders by the mass of irrelevant and worthless material 
which it contains, and, to all but the trained scholar, is 
simply misleading. For the present, we hope that all who 
are interested in the prophecies of Jeremiah will provide 
themselves with Prof. Workman's volume; but we hope 

1 The Targum, to which Prof. Workman often appeals in support of his 
restorations, of course paraphrased likewise. It would be easy to show also 
that its evidence is often on other grounds inconclusive. Thus it regularly 
renders 7V1 by the plural }*?3n ; how then does its use of this word in 6, 24 
show that it read D^3PI rather than b s n ? 


also that they will follow it with the utmost possible dis- 
crimination. And for the future we earnestly trust that 
Prof. Workman may be induced to reconsider the plan 
upon which he has pursued his investigations; and in a 
future edition will not shrink from cutting down his Con- 
spectus to one-third or one -fourth — the more, the better — 
of its present dimensions. 

S. R. Driver. 


During the past half-century the attention of Hebrew 
scholars has been directed, perhaps more than at any former 
period, to the consideration of the text, and the structure 
of the books, of the Old Testament. The impulse to such 
studies had its rise a century earlier, but it was only here 
and there that a solitary student gave himself to the work. 
In our days the labourers have happily become more 
numerous. Their work too has been fruitful in results, 
and when what is certain in these inquiries becomes as- 
sured to the Church at large, we shall find that we have 
advanced greatly in our knowledge of these sacred books, 
and have gained clearer insight into the manner of God's 
revelation. But that time, though it be steadily approach- 
ing, has not yet arrived. Meanwhile the minds of many, 
who cannot examine the originals for themselves, grow 
sorely troubled by the questionings that are current, and 
not always couched in a reverent form, about matters which 
they have hitherto deemed unquestionable. 

For much of this trouble no doubt the Churches themselves 
must be held responsible. All study and instruction con- 
cerning the origin and history of the Old Testament writings 

VOL. IX. 22 


has either been omitted by those who were responsible for 
imparting it, or else has been thrust very much into the 
background. It was no unnatural result of the Reformation 
that the authority of Scripture should be magnified. The 
reverence then generated grew in time to be somewhat 
superstitious. The instrument by which God had revealed 
Himself to His ancient people became regarded as partaking 
of the Divine perfection. The climax of letter-worship 
was reached when the reformed Churches of Switzerland, in 
1675, declared that "the Hebrew text of the Old Testament, 
as we have received it from the Jews, is, as well in con- 
sonants as in vowels and other points, and in matter as 
well as in words, divinely inspired ; and by it all versions, 
eastern or western, are to be examined, and where they 
vary, are to be conformed to it." l 

Such opinions were not confined to Switzerland, and of 
them we now reap the fruits. Being trained on such ideas, 
there are many devout minds which receive a severe shock 
if it be suggested that Moses may not have been the author 
of the Pentateuch ; that Genesis bears evidence of being 
a compilation from various independent documents; that 
other books of the Old Testament are of a composite 
character ; that the prophecies of Isaiah and Zechariah are 
not the work of one author throughout ; that the whole 
of the Old Testament may have been brought into its pre- 
sent form in the days of Ezra, or even later, and that in 
the course of many transcriptions some errors of the scribes 
may have found their way into the text. 

In our days criticism has pronounced these and similar 
judgements, and many of them are receiving constant con- 
firmation. And they are seized upon by some, who have 
no love for revelation, and are glad of any means to disquiet 
the minds of the faithful, and are put forward in crude 
and exaggerated forms as helps toward undermining the 
1 See Formula Con<en$u$ Helvetica (Canon ii.), Niemeyer, p. 731. 


authority of the sacred Scriptures. Devout criticism, and 
it abounds, has no such aim ; and those who have given 
most earnest labour to these investigations feel more than 
others for the pain which godly people may suffer from the 
unwarranted representations which are sometimes made 
concerning the results of critical inquiry into the origin of 
the Old Testament. Hence they wax more earnest in their 
work, assured that the light will spread, and that a better 
understanding of what is, and what is not, at stake in these 
investigations will sooner or later dispel this alarm. 

For it was not always thus. Devout men in former 
times accepted a great part of what is put forward by 
modern critics, and found the authority of the Bible in 
nowise impaired thereby. None will accuse Calvin of 
undervaluing the Scriptures, yet nowhere can one find more 
of what is now called " free handling " than in his com- 
mentaries. Examples, both in our own country and abroad, 
could easily be multiplied. One will serve the purpose. 
Dr. Whitaker, who was Eegius Professor of Divinity in the 
University of Cambridge from 1580 to 1596, and who was 
largely engaged in controversy with the Komanists on the 
authority of the Scriptures, writes : " It is very possible 
that the books [of the Old Testament], which may have 
been previously in some disorder, were corrected by Ezra, 
restored to their proper places, and disposed according to 
some fixed plan, as Hilary, in his prologue, affirms par- 
ticularly of the Psalms." l 

. The over-great superstition with respect to the sacred text 
had not arisen in the days of Calvin and Whitaker, and 
there was more widely diffused than at present a knowledge 
of its history. This enabled men to keep firm hold upon 
that which constitutes the true value of the Scriptures, to 
distinguish between the Divine purpose of revelation and 
the fallible human agency which God has employed for its 

1 See Whitaker's Disputation on Scripturt, p. 116. (Parker Society.) 


publication. It is with this latter that criticism of words 
and language deals, and clear knowledge on this point is 
all that is needed to allay any anxieties which are now 
raised by discussions concerning text and authorship. 

The Old Testament bears witness unto Christ. He 
Himself has told us so. And His apostles teach us that 
it is able to make men wise unto salvation; that it is 
profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for in- 
struction which is in righteousness. To serve these 
objects it was given, and we cannot possibly turn to better 
authority than our Lord and Hig apostles for the way in 
which it may be employed to do so. They constantly 
appeal to the writings of the older covenant, but from the 
way they do this we have clear evidence that textual 
criticism would have given them no alarm; that their 
concern was not with the verbal exactness of the vehicle, 
not with niceties of text or with unity of authorship, but 
with that instruction which is in righteousness and which 
is conveyed to men in the sacred record. 

The New Testament, written in Greek, represents our 
Lord and His apostles as employing, not the Hebrew 
Scriptures, but a Greek version of them, the Septuagint, 
which had been made at various times between the close 
of the Hebrew canon and the first or second century 
before Christ. The Greek version, though giving the 
general sense of the Hebrew fairly well, is by no means an 
exact translation ; yet in it Jesus found that testimony and 
those lessons after which He earnestly exhorted men to 
seek as the way to life eternal. 

One or two examples will make plain both what has been 
said about the character of the Septuagint version, and also 
show the way in which our Lord and His apostles made 
use of it. And first of Christ Himself. In St. Matthew . 
xxi. 16 we find Him replying to the murmurings of the "^ 
chief priests and scribes, who were offended at the hosannas 



of the attendant children. Jesus says, " Have ye never 
read, Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings Thou hast 
perfected praise?" Here He is quoting from the Septua- 
gint of Psalm viii. 2. But that passage in the Hebrew, 
which is strictly represented by our English translations, 
ends with " Thou hast ordained [E.V., established] strength" 
And this rendering is in entire harmony with the context 
of the psalm, which speaks of stilling the enemy and the 
avenger. For such a work strength and not praise would 
be needed. It in no way concerns us to inquire how the 
Septuagint rendering of this verse arose. It suffices that 
Jesus has accepted it as giving the spirit of David's psalm. 
He had enemies around Him of a different character from 
those contemplated by the psalmist. But the Divine eco- 
nomy is manifested in many ways, and it is part of that 
economy to use the weak things of the world to confound 
the things that are mighty ; and it is suitably represented, 
whether the faithful lips of children be described as a bul- 
wark against the folly of the adversaries, or their youthful 
praises as a confusion to the malice of opposing priests and 

The same psalm supplies us with an example of the way 
in which, out of a somewhat inexact rendering in the Sep- 
tuagint, the writers of the New Testament were able to 
derive needful lessons of Divine truth, and made no scruple 
about verbal preciseness. The psalmist is speaking of the 
dignity which God bestowed upon man at the creation. 
"Thou hast made him but little lower than Ood, and 
crownest him with glory and honour ; Thou madest him 
to have dominion over the works of Thy hands, Thou hast 
put all things under his feet." In the Septuagint, the first 
clause of this passage is rendered, " Thou hast made him 
a little lower than the angels" And this translation was 
accepted, and made the basis of an argument, by the writer 
of the Epistle to the Hebrews ; and in consequence of 



that acceptance, the translators of the Authorized Version 
followed in the psalm the Septuagint rather than the 
Hebrew. The Eevised Version has given the correct trans- 
lation, and has made the passage refer, as it was meant to 
do, to the creation of the first Adam in God's image and 
after God's likeness. 

Yet see how the apostles accept the rendering of the 
Seventy, and draw from it true instruction! St. Paul's 
lesson is found in 1 Corinthians xv. 27, where he uses the 
psalm as witness that in the first Adam there was a pro- 
mise of the second. He quotes the words, " God hath put 
all things under his feet," and refers them not to Adam, 
but to Jesus Christ. 

The other apostle (Heb. ii. 3-9), if indeed it be not St. 
Paul here also, is comparing the word that was of old time 
spoken by angels with that gospel which began from Christ 
and was continued by His disciples. The latter, he shows, 
was incomparably the grander message. The angels pro- 
claimed the law, but since the incarnation men have been 
made fellow workers with the Lord of glory in publishing 
the message which speaks of life and immortality. This 
is the honour which God has bestowed upon man in the 
second Adam. By humiliated human nature, after its 
assumption by Christ, God has now manifested His glory, 
as it had never been manifested among, or by, the angels. 
The psalmist had celebrated the subjection of all nature to 
the first Adam. The apostle testifies that a greater exal- 
tation than this shall be realized. To Christ, our Lord, the 
Son of man, in a far higher sense, all things shall be made 
subject. We see not indeed as yet all things put under 
Him. All the exaltation of which man is made capable 
through the incarnation has not yet been made manifest. 
But a foretaste of it there has been. We see Jesus the 
God-Man, who was made a little lower than the angels for 
the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honour. 


In this way the comparison with the angels serves the 
apostle's purpose. The words of the paalm could most 
fitly be applied to Him, the Son of man, who was also the 
Son of God ; and His humiliation was followed by an -exal- 
tation, which is a pledge of the future crowning of those 
whom He has not been ashamed to call His brethren, 
though now they may here be suffering, as He did that 
He might be made a perfect Mediator. 

It may have been a feeling of reverence which led the 
Septuagint translators to render by " angels " the word 
which is properly the name of God Himself. For the 
representatives and ministers of God are sometimes, in the 
Old Testament, called by this name Elohim. Thus the 
judges are so designated in Exodus xxi. 6, xxii. 8, where 
however the Eevised Version has placed " God " in the 
text, and " the judges " on the margin. But satisfied with 
the version of the Seventy as conveying the Spirit of God's 
teaching, the apostles adopt it and expound it, to the great 
comfort of multitudes of godly souls in the generations that 
have come after them. And we may rest assured that 
those who did so would have paid little regard to the sort 
of questions which verbal criticism must raise, and which 
are of importance in their degree, but mainly for tracing 
out the various stages of the history of the sacred text. 

The next example is different in character, and even more 
striking. In the council which (Acts xv.) was held at 
Jerusalem, about the terms of admission of the Gentiles 
into the Christian Church, we find St. James, after he has 
alluded to St. Peter's visit to Cornelius, whereby the door 
of the Church was opened to the Gentile world, continuing 
his remarks thus : " To this agree the words of the prophets, 
as it is written : 

After this I will return, 

And I will build again the tabernacle of David, which is fallen ; 

And I will build again the ruins thereof, 


And I will set it tip : 

That the residue of men may seek after the Lord, 
And all the Gentiles, upon whom My name is called, 
Saith the Lord, who maketh these things known from the beginning 
of the world." 

The quotation is made by St. James from the Septnagint 
translation of Amos ix. 11, 12. Bat instead of " that the 
residue of men may seek after the Lord," the Hebrew has, 
" that they (i.e. Israel) may possess the remnant of Edom." 
Now it is almost certain that the Seventy took the word 
DYTO=Edom, as if it were D"TN = man. Thus "the rem- 
nant of Edom " would at once become " the residue of 
men." They must also have regarded this as the subject, 
and not the object, in the sentence, and read the verb 
WT*="they may inherit, ,, or "possess," as if it were 
•}&nT = " they may seek." Thus the change of the render- 
ing in the Septuagint may be in some degree explained. 
But over this verbal change the apostle stumbles not. He 
feels that the later expression includes the earlier, that 
when the residue of men and all the Gentiles seek the 
Lord, the faith of Israel will have prevailed among the 
remnant of Edom. For the purpose of his argument he 
can, without demur, accept the language of the version ; 
for in it is contained the same, yea, even fuller, testimony 
to the Divine scheme of salvation. The true up-building 
of the house of David shall be the up-building of all man- 
kind beside. 

Almost every book of the New Testament yields a supply 
of similar examples. Those which have been given are 
enough to show that, though the Septuagint varies from 
the Hebrew, now in its way of expressing the precise form 
of thought, now by a changed rendering of single words, 
and at times in the larger difference of a whole modified 
sentence, the speakers and writers in the New Testament 
did not regard this as a bar to its use, but accepted it as 


expressing the substance of God's revealed word, and found 
in it what they knew the Old Testament writings were 
intended to teach. , 

Nor was it that they were ignorant of the existence of 
such difference from the original as we have been noting. 
When it is necessary, they can leave the Septuagint, and 
render the Hebrew closely for themselves. Perhaps one 
of the most interesting instances in proof of this is found 
in St. John xix. 37 : " They shall look on Him whom they 
have pierced." In this quotation from Zechariah xii. 10, 
the Septuagint renders, " They have danced over in 
triumph," instead of " they have pierced." They appear to 
have read lp") = to dance, instead of "lpl = to wound ; but 
the evangelist gives the correct translation of the Hebrew. 

Similarly in 1 Corinthians iii. 19, St. Paul leaves the Sep- 
tuagint, to which in most cases he adheres faithfully. He is 
quoting from Job v. 13, " He taketh the wise in their own 
craftiness," and his words are, 6 Spaao-ofievo? tov? ao<f>ov? 
iv t# Travovpyia avr&v. Instead of this, the Septuagint has 
6 KaraXafifidvcov <ro(f>ov<; iv rjj (frpovyaret. Everywhere else 
but in this passage the Seventy translate HD"U? byiravovpyia; 
and the apostle takes that word as the true sense here 
also, while for the verb he employs Spaao-opai, which they 
never use for this Hebrew word. 

Instances of this kind are not numerous, for, as has been 
already said, the New Testament writers, as a rule, follow 
the Septuagint, but they are enough to show us that this 
following did not come about because these writers were 
unable to go to the original for themselves, if they found 
it best to do so ; and their practice makes it quite manifest, 
that what they sought and found in the writings of the 
older covenant was something with which verbal and literal 
criticism does not and cannot interfere. 

We may gather also that they would have been undis- 
turbed by questions such as are now discussed concerning 


the diversity of authorship in any books of the Old Testa- 
ment. To them the whole volume was one, and all its 
parts of co-ordinate authority. Hence St. Matthew (chap, 
xii.), writing about our Lord's reproof to the Pharisees on 
the observance of the Sabbath, represents Jesus as citing 
from 1 Samuel the example of David, and immediately 
afterwards quoting the book of Numbers in support of His 
position, and completing His rebuke by pointing out the 
true principle of religious observance as set forth by Hosea, 
"I will have mercy, and not sacrifice." Each quotation 
is put forward as of equal authority, and as part of one 
and the same Divine revelation. To Christ it signified 
not whether for His purpose God has made use of three 
writers or one. In the same way, and in the same chapter, 
Jesus couples together the books of Jonah and of the Kings, 
in His witness against the evil generation who would see 
a sign. The men of Nineveh and the queen of the south 
shall each rise up in the judgment and condemn them. 

And our Lord's manner in thus using the Old Testa- 
ment is illustrated amply in 1 the other synoptists. St 
John does not record many details of Christ's conversations 
with other persons than His disciples, and to them He 
does not quote the Old Testament Scriptures. But where 
the evangelist himself has occasion to make use of Old 
Testament illustration, we find his practice exactly the 
same. The whole volume is but one Divine record. Thus, 
in chapter xii., he quotes from Zechariah, and twice over 

1 Modern investigation concerning the text of the New Testament supplies us 
with an interesting example in Mark i. 2. The textus receptus was correctly 
rendered in the A.V. •• As it is written in the prophets." The quotations which 
follow are from Malachi and from Isaiah. But, as is now established, the 
earliest and best supported text would be rendered (as in K.V.) " As it is written 
in Isaiah the prophet." The evangelist, though citing Malachi first, speaks of 
the whole as " written in Isaiah." So entirely of one piece to his mind was 
the whole cycle of the Old Testament prophecy. Some later hand, finding two 
different prophets quoted, noted the fact, most probably on his margin, and in 
time the marginal note was substituted for the primitive text. 


from Isaiah, as if they were all of one authority ; while 
in chapter xix. he places side by side extracts from the 
Psalms, from Exodus, and from Zechariah : thus employ- 
. ing, in one single chapter, words from each part of the 
Old Testament as divided by the Jews, from the law, the 
prophets, and the Psalms. 

The same use is found in St. Paul's epistles, and in other 
epistles also. He discusses, in chapters ix.-xi. of the 
Epistle to the Eomans, the rejection of the Jews and the 
calling of the Gentiles ; and in the midst of an argument 
where almost every sentence contains some allusion to the 
Old Testament records, the apostle quotes directly from 
Exodus, Leviticus, Deuteronomy, several times over from 
the Psalms and from Isaiah, and from Nahum; and he 
uses the language of these various writers as though it were 
all of co-ordinate value and importance, all alike bearing 
evidence to the same revealed truth. 

In the same way St. James in one chapter (ii.) employs 
for his argument the words of Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, 
Deuteronomy, Joshua, and Job, and treats them all as of 
the same cogency. 

In the Epistle to the Hebrews, as might be expected, 
quotations from the Old Testament are very numerous. 
Quite two-thirds of the books are either directly quoted 
or indirectly alluded to. Yet there is not a trace that one 
portion of the volume was of more esteem than another • 
for that instruction in righteousness for which the whole 
was given. 

We may be well assured, then, that our Lord and His 
apostles would have heard without concern the conclusions 
at which modern criticism has arrived, or is likely to arrive, 
concerning the mixed authorship of any or of all the Old 
Testament books. Familiar with the Septuagint, as we see 
they were, they must have known the tradition, which is 
recorded in 2 Esdras xiv., of Ezra's prayer that he might 


receive the Holy Spirit in such measure as to enable him 
to rewrite the law which had been lost, and how tradition 
said the prayer was granted. They most have been ac- 
quainted with the more matter of fact statement made in 
2 Maccabees ii. 13-15 about the gathering by Nehemiah of 
the acts of the kings, and the prophets, and of David, and 
about a similar collection made in later days by Judas 
Maccabaeus. In times when such traditions were current, 
no such worship of the letter of the Old Testament could 
have prevailed as would check the use of reason and 
observation upon the documents as they stood, nor would 
there have been any hesitation in admitting that these 
sacred books had undergone some important revision in the 
days which succeeded the captivity. But the faithful in 
those times believed that the same Divine Spirit was guid- 
ing Ezra, Nehemiah, and Haggai which had guided Moses 
and Joshua and David : and so believing they were at peace 
in their minds, assured that the truths of revelation had 
been ever preserved, though the channels which conveyed 
had been changed ; assured that it was as ever the word of 
Him who testifies, " I am Jehovah, I change not." And 
like assurance would come, nay, will come, now of clearer 
knowledge. It is but the long silence on such topics which 
makes men think them perilous to be discussed ; whereas 
in truth the discussions, now happily growing to be more 
widely appreciated, deal only with the external present- 
ment, with the casket in which God's truth is contained, 
seeking to find any indication of how the various pieces 
thereof were brought to form a part of the admirable work. 
From such a study reverently conducted we cannot but be 
gainers in the end, cannot but grow in admiration of the 
Wisdom which has preserved for the world this knowledge 
which by its own wisdom the world had never found. 
In connexion with this absence 1 of concern about pre- 

1 It may be noted as an instance of disregard of verbal precision, though in 


ciseness of text in the New Testament writers, there is 
another feature which deserves to be noted. Not only do 
the apostles quote from the Septuagint where it varies from 
the Hebrew, but they also not unfrequently allow them- 
selves to make some alteration, to give some slight turn to 
the Greek which shall make it more completely suit their 
argument. Thus in 1 Corinthians iii., St. Paul is speaking 
against the wisdom of this world as being foolishness with 
God, and he continues, "For it is written, The Lord 
knoweth the thoughts of the wise that they are vain." The 
Old Testament passage to which he refers is Psalm xciv. 11. 
But there the words are, " The Lord knoweth the thoughts 
of men that they are vain." The original verse has reference 
to the whole human race, but the apostle does not hesitate 
to modify it, that it may the better fit into his argument. 
The modification impairs no whit the truth of what is said. 
If God has given sentence on all men's hearts, the hearts 
of the wise are included in the verdict. St. Paul's limited 
application does not exclude the wider truth of the psalm. 

Once more, in Ephesians iv. 8, the apostle, speaking of 
the gifts which Christ since His ascension has bestowed 
through the Spirit, quotes thus : " Wherefore he saith, 
When He ascended up on high, He led captivity captive, 
and gave gifts unto men." In the psalm (lxviii. 18) the last 
phrase of this passage is, " Thou hast received gifts for 
(B.V., among) m.en." The language there is a description 
of the glorious ascent of the ark into Mount Zion, and in 
prophetic vision the psalmist sees, and tells, how the long 
train of Jehovah's willing captives shall come thither to 
follow the ark, for God's might shall prevail and win sub- 
mission among all men. The apostle applies the words to 

quite another kind, that while all the four evangelists give an account of the 
inscription above Christ's cross, the words, in the original, are slightly different 
in each gospel (of. Matt, xxvii. 87, Mark xv. 26, Lake xziii. 88, John xix. 10). 
Had the gospels been merely a work of man's device, this discordance would 
have been removed. 

<13 TH?T-Lj£Ij~7 -nsrz7Zi 

'r.\ a y/.? £;n.r* H~ jll* I~*i wL-t 3 V*.*-— ~-g rrrc^ered 
vr-r^t :.-v„ J: * * I *•"%•! b:^iir*- A3 ~ ' * tcez^ Sl Fa.iI 
•;.t.% v.i* v, Li'Jtznr^ *.:m=: t7*=t::-l5 TT3.ii wrfih be 
h^i i^r: vre*!::::: -f rbr ^±3 :: li-e H:> Girst. anl 
*:.'*'*. Z." tLit xLis C"LrL=s r.« tic &ra::rr~r *«- *h« 
\+>+~z:Jjk\% wvri*, *zl'*z-Z zzjczl lj rti* - "A^Ar. T. He has 
w,r. '/r-"y v. \:.*A 'wSs. z^czl zzazl ariir. in ILrSsed srrwers, 
uh \\ to tl'A'lt* tie ;«i> : ^ cirressirn, while re- 
fair.:::;? ::.* »~::«£&i.oe ani ::r?e : and so he sits cf Christ 
thai lit qizt y'/U cntc nen- 

Of ii.L% kii.1 :?-e?e exanrles win fit: re. They also 
•Low ;.% that the New Testament writers were n:t careful 
aiy,*jt verbal preciseness, if cnlj they cc^d ccnrey the fall 
force of what tr.ey felt to be :he true lessens of the olier 
covenant. Niceties of language which ccme prcperiy under 
the notice of the students cf the sacred text would hare 
v^rned of little importance to M. Paul cr St. James. They 
are of interest, bit their interest is historic, not doctrinal. 
And there has never before been a time when an exami- 
nation of such questions could be thoroughly undertaken. 
The opportunities and studies of the present time all tend 
to direct inquiry toward such points. The wider and more 
constant intercourse among nations, the discovery of new 
MHS., the comparison of texts, must raise questionings. 
But " search the Scriptures," * was meant for this phase of 
inquiry also, and zealous labour in this newly opened field 
will yield good fruit. The ultimate result of searching may 
be to make men modify some opinions which they have 
long entertained about the structure and history of the 

1 For our ar^umf nt it docs not matter whether the verb in this Terse (John 
v. W.l) ha takon an imperative or indicative. The Scriptures testify of Christ, 
and a rebuke of the devotion to a study of the book rather than of the life 
which it contains (which would be the force of the indicative) does not make 
Itrnn important or less needful the rightly directed search to find out Christ in 
Hit revelation. 


Old Testament books. But if there be no good grounds for 
holding them, if they have grown up from want of light, if 
different opinions can be supported by trustworthy evidence, 
then it is well that, though hallowed by age, mistakes should 
be cleared out of the way. If we will but show our faith 
in Christ by obeying His command, He who bade us search 
will send us light, and make ever clearer His own saying, 
which is what gives their value to the Old Testament 
records, that they bear witness unto Him. 

J. Eawson Lumby. 


EX. Christ not a Self-elected, but a God-appointed 
Priest (Chap. v. 1-10). 

At length the priesthood of Christ, already three times 
alluded to, is taken up in earnest, and made the subject of 
an elaborate discussion, extending from this point to chapter 
x. 18. The writer begins at the beginning, setting forth 
first of all that Christ is a legitimate priest, not a usurper : 
one solemnly called to the office by God, not self-elected. 
For this is the leading thought in this introductory state- 
ment. It seems indeed to be only one of two. Prima facie 
one gets the impression that the writer's object is to specify, 
as of equal and co-ordinate importance, two fundamental 
qualifications for the office of a high priest, and then to 
show that these were both possessed in a signal manner 
by Jesus. Every perfectly qualified high priest, he appears 
to say, must both sympathise with men, and have a call 
from God : accordingly Jesus had such a call, and was also 
eminently sympathetic. And he evidently does regard 
sympathy as, not less than a Divine call, indispensable, the 
terms in which he speaks of it being quite remarkable for 
emphasis and vividness. Nevertheless he does not put the 


two on the same footing. The chief thing in his mind here 
is the call or appointment ; the sympathy is referred to, in 
connexion with its source, personal infirmity, as explaining 
the need for a call, so as to suggest the question, Who, 
conscious of the infirmity which is the secret of sacerdotal 
mildness, would dream of undertaking such an office with- 
out a Divine call ? Hence in the application of the general 
principles enunciated regarding the high-priestly office 
(vers. 1-4) to the case of Christ (vers. 5-10) no reference 
is made to His sympathy, but only to His call, and to 
experiences in His earthly life which showed how far He 
was from arrogating to Himself the priestly office. These 
experiences were indeed a discipline in sympathy, but that 
aspect is not spoken of. 

If sympathy is not co-ordinate with the call in the 
writer's mind, still less is it his main theme. Yet it is 
apt to be regarded as such by those who assume that 
the Hebrew Christians were familiar with the doctrine of 
Christ's priesthood, and stood in no need of its being proved 
to them, or even elaborately expounded, but only of its 
being used for their encouragement under trial. To such 
chapter v. 1-10 will naturally appear a pendant to the 
statement in the close of last chapter concerning the 
sympathy of Christ as the great High Priest, containing 
some such line of thought as this : Compassion may be 
counted on in every high priest, for he is conscious of his 
own infirmity, and moreover he is called to office by God, 
who knows whom to call, and takes care to call only such 
as are humane in spirit. On both grounds you may rest 
assured of the sympathy of Jesus. 1 As I understand the 
passage, its drift is rather this : Sympathy is congruous to 
the high-priestly office in general. It arises out of the 
sense of personal infirmity ; whence also it comes that no 
right-minded man would undertake the office except as 

i So Professor Davidson. 


called of God. Jesus assuredly undertook the office only as 
called of God. He was called to the priesthood before His 
incarnation. He came to the world under a Divine call. 
And during the days of His earthly life His behaviour was 
such as utterly to exclude the idea of His being a usurper 
of sacerdotal honours. All through His incarnate expe- 
riences, and especially in those of the closing scene, He was 
simply submitting to God's will that He should be a priest. 
And when He returned to heaven He was saluted High 
Priest in recognition of His loyalty. Thus from first to 
last He was emphatically One called of God. Thus viewed, 
the passage before us is obviously the proper logical com- 
mencement of a discourse on the priesthood of Christ, in- 
tended to instruct readers who had next to no idea of the 
doctrine, and needed to be taught the very rudiments thereof. 
Was this their position, or was it not ? It is a question on 
which it is very necessary to make up our minds, as the 
view we take of it must seriously influence our interpre- 
tation of the lengthy section of the epistle of which the 
passage now under consideration forms the introduction. 1 

What is said of the sympathy that becomes a high priest, 
though subordinate to the statement concerning his call, 
is important and interesting. First, a description is given 
of the office which in every clause suggests the reflection, 
How congruous sympathy to the sacerdotal character ! The 
high priest is described as taken from among men, and the 
suggestion is that, being a man of like nature with those 
for whom he transacts, he may be expected to have fellow- 
feeling with them. Then he is further described as ordained 

1 The views of recent expositors on this important subject are widely diver- 
gent. Thus Mr. Kendall in The Expositob for January, 1889, p. 32, says that 
the Hebrew Christians " did not connect the idea of priesthood with Christ, 
though they knew Him as their Prophet and their King." Professor Davidson, 
on the other hand, says, " The fact that the Son is a High Priest is a common- 
place to his readers " (The EpistU to the Hebrews, p. 106). 1 have expressed my 
own view, to the same effect as Mr. Kendall, in the introductory paper in The 
Bxpobitob for March, 1888. 

vol. ix. 23 


for men in things pertaining to God, the implied thought 
being that he cannot acquit himself satisfactorily in that 
capacity unless he sympathise with those whom he repre- 
sents before God. Lastly, it is declared to be his special 
duty to offer sacrifices of various sorts for *iw, the latent idea 
being that it is impossible for any one to perform that duty 
with any earnestness or efficiency, who has not genuine 
compassion for the sinful. 

What is implied in Ter. 1 is plainly stated in ver. 2, 
though in participial form, in accordance with the subor- 
dinate position assigned to the requirement of sympathy in 
relation to the Divine call. " Being able to have compas- 
sion on the ignorant and erring." 

Very remarkable is the word employed to describe priestly 
compassion, perpunraffelv. It does not, like avfiira6rj<rai in 
iv. 15, signify to feel with another, but rather to abstain 
from feeling against him ; to be able to restrain antipathy. 
It was used by Philo to describe Abraham's sober grief 
on the loss of Sarah and Jacob's patience under affliction. 
Here it seems to be employed to denote a state of feeling 
towards the ignorant and erring balanced between severity 
and undue leniency. It is carefully selected to represent 
the spirit which becomes a high priest as a mean between 
two extremes. On the one hand, he should be able to 
control the passions provoked by error and ignorance, anger, 
impatience, disgust, contempt. On the other hand, he must 
not be so amiable as not even to be tempted to give way 
to these passions. Ignorance and misconduct he must not 
regard with unruffled equanimity. It is plainly implied 
that it is possible to be too sympathetic, and so to become 
the slave or tool of men's ignorance or prejudices, and 
even partaker of their sins; a possibility illustrated by 
the histories of Aaron and of Eli, two high priests of Israel. 
The model high priest is not like either. He hates igno- 
rance and sin, but he pities the ignorant and sinful. He is 


free alike from the inhuman severity of the pharisee, who 
thinks he has done his duty towards all misconduct when 
he has expressed himself in terms of unmeasured con- 
demnation regarding it, and from the selfish apathy of the 
world, which simply does not trouble itself about the failings 
of the weak. He feels resentment, but it is in moderation ; 
disgust, but it is under control ; impatience, but not such as 
finds vent in ebullitions of temper, but such rather as takes 
the form of determined effort to remove evils with which 
it cannot live on friendly terms. All this of course implies 
a loving, kind heart. The negative virtue of patience implies 
the positive virtue of sympathy. The model high priest 
is one in whose heart the law of charity reigns, and who 
regards the people for whom he acts in holy things as his 
children. The ignorant for him are persons to be taught, 
the erring sheep to be brought back to the fold. He re- 
members that sin is not only an evil thing in God's sight, 
but also a bitter thing for the offender ; realizes the misery 
of an accusing conscience, the shame and fear which are the 
ghostly shadows of guilt. All this is hinted at in the word 
/jLerpionraOeZp, whereby at a single stroke the writer photo- 
graphs the character of the model high priest. 

The character thus drawn is obviously congenial to the 
priestly office. The priest's duty is to offer gifts and sacri- 
fices for sin. The performance of this duty habituates the 
priestly mind to a certain way of viewing sin : as an offence 
deserving punishment, yet pardonable on the presentation 
of the appropriate offering. The priest's relation to the 
offender is also such as demands a sympathetic spirit. He is 
not a legislator, enacting laws with rigid penalties attached. 
Neither is he a judge, but rather an advocate pleading for 
his client at the bar. Neither is he a prophet, giving utter- 
ances in vehement language to the Divine displeasure against 
transgression, but rather an intercessor imploring mercy, 
appeasing anger, striving to awaken Divine pity. 


But the special scarce to which sacerdotal sympathy is 
traced is the consciousness of personal infirmity. "For 
that he himself also is compassed with infirmity." The 
explanation seems to labour under the defect of too great 
generality. A high priest is no more human in his nature 
and experience than other men, why then should he be 
exceptionally humane ? Two reasons suggest themselves. 

The high priest was officially a very holy person, begirt 
on all sides with the emblems of holiness, copiously anointed 
with oil, whose exquisite aroma typified the odour of sanc- 
tity, arrayed in gorgeous robes, significant of the beauty of 
holiness, required to be so devoted to his sacred calling and 
so dead to the world that he might not mourn for the death 
of his nearest kin. How oppressive the burden of this 
official sanctity must have been to a thoughtful, humble 
man, conscious of personal infirmity, and knowing himsell 
to be of like passions and sinful tendencies with his fellow 
worshippers! How the very sanctity of his office would 
force on the attention of one who was not a mere puppet 
priest the contrast between his official and his personal 
character, as a subject of solemn reflection. And what 
would the result of such reflection be bat a deepened self- 
knowledge, a sense of unworthiness for his sacred vocation, 
which would seek relief in cherishing a meek and humble 
spirit, and in manifesting a gracious sympathy towards 
his brethren, considering himself as one also tempted ; and 
would gladly hail the return of that solemn season — the 
great day of atonement — when the high priest of Israel 
offered a propitiatory sacrifice first for his own sins, and 
then for the people's. 

Another source of priestly benignity was, I imagine, 
habitual converse in the discharge of duty with the erring 
and the ignorant. The high priest had officially much to 
do with men, and that not with picked samples, but with 
men in the mass; the greater number probably being 


inferior specimens of humanity, and all presenting to his 
view their weak side. He learned in the discharge of his 
functions to take a kindly interest in all sorts of people, 
even the most erratic, and to bear with inconsistency even 
in the best. The poet or philosopher, conversant chiefly 
with ideal men, heroes invested with all imaginary 
excellences, is prone to feel disgust towards real common 
men, sadly unheroic and unromantic in character. The 
high priest had abundant opportunities for learning that 
the characters even of the good and devout are very de- 
fective, and he was thankful to find that their hearts were 
right with God, and that when they erred they were 
desirous to confess their error and make atonement. He 
looked not for sinless, perfect beings, but at most only for 
men broken-hearted for their sins, and bringing their tres- 
pass offering to the altar of the Lord. 

The account given of priestly sympathy prepares us for 
appreciating the statement which follows concerning the 
need for a Divine call to the priestly office. " And no one 
taketh the honour to himself, but only when called by God, 
as indeed was Aaron " (ver. 4). 

No one, duly impressed with his own infirmities, would 
ever think of taking unto himself so sacred an office. A 
need for a Divine call is felt by all devout men in connexion 
with all sacred offices involving a ministry on men's behalf 
in things pertaining to God. The tendency is to shrink 
from such offices, rather than to covet and ambitiously 
appropriate them. The sentiment, nolo episcopari, which 
has ever been common in the best days of the Church, is 
not an affectation of modesty, but the expression of a 
deep reluctance to undertake the onerous responsibilities 
of a representative man in religion by all who know them- 
selves, and who realize the momentous nature of religious 
interests. The sentiment is deepened by the reflection that 
the office is honourable as well as sacred. For it is a 


maxim which calls forth a response from every healthy con- 
science, that men should not seek honours, but be sought 
for them, it being but an application of the proverb, " Let 
another man praise thee, and not thine own mouth." 

Having stated the general principle that a Divine call 
is necessary as an inducement to the assumption of the 
priestly office, the writer passes to the case of Jesus Christ, 
whom he emphatically declares to have been utterly free 
from the spirit of ambition, and to have been made a high 
priest, not by self-election, but by Divine appointment. Of 
the two texts quoted in proof of the assertion, the second, 
taken from Psalm ex., naturally appears the more im- 
portant; as containing an express reference to Messiah's 
priesthood. This oracle, the key to the whole doctrine of 
the epistle on the subject in question, is introduced here 
for the first time, very quietly, as if by the way, and in 
subordination to the more familiar text already quoted from 
the second Psalm bearing on Messiah's sonship. Here 
once more we have occasion to admire the oratorical tact 
of the writer, who, having in mind to present to his readers 
a difficult thought, first puts it forth in a stealthy, tentative 
way, as if hoping that it may thus catch the attention 
better than if more obtrusively presented ; just as one can 
see a star in the evening twilight more distinctly by looking 
a little to one side of it, than by gazing directly at it. 

It is difficult to understand, at first, why the text from 
the second Psalm, " My Son art Thou," is introduced here 
at all, the thing to be proved being, not that Messiah was 
made by God a Son, but that He was made a Priest. But 
on reflection we perceive that it is a preliminary hint as to 
what sort of priesthood is signified by the order of Melchi- 
sedec, a first attempt to insinuate into the minds of readers 
the idea of a priesthood belonging to Christ altogether 
distinct in character from the Levitical, yet the highest 
possible, that of one at once a Divine Son and a Divine 


King. On further consideration it dawns on us that a still 
deeper truth is meant to be taught; that Christ's priesthood 
is co-89val with His sonship and inherent in it. Only when 
we find this idea in it do we feel the relevancy of the first 
citation to be fully justified. So interpreted it contains 
a reference to an eternal Divine call to the priesthood, in 
consonance with the order of Melchisedec, which is de- 
scribed farther on as " having neither beginning of days 
nor end of life " — eternal a parte ante, as well as a parte 
post Thus viewed, Christ's priestly vocation ceases to be 
a mere accident in His history, and becomes an essential 
characteristic of His position as Son : sonship, Christhood, 
priestliness, inseparably interwoven. 

From the pre-incarnate state, to which the quotations 
from the Psalter refer, the writer proceeds to speak of 
Christ's earthly history : " Who, in the days of His flesh." 
He here conceives, as in a later part of the epistle He 
expressly represents l the Christ as coming into the world 
under a Divine call to be a Priest, and conscious of His 
vocation. He represents Christ as under training for the 
priesthood, but training implies previous destination; as 
an obedient learner, but obedience implies consciousness 
of His calling. In the verses which follow (7, 8) his pur- 
pose is to exhibit the behaviour of Jesus during His life 
on eartfc in such a light that the idea of usurpation shall 
appear an absurdity. The general import is : " Jesus ever 
loyal, but never ambitious ; so far from arrogating, rather 
shrinking from priestly office, at most simply submitting 
to God's will, and enabled to do that by special grace in 
answer to prayer." It is implied that this is a true account 
. of Christ's whole behaviour on earth ; but the special 
features of the picture are taken from the prelude to the 
passion, the agony in the garden, where the truth of the 
representation becomes startlingly conspicuous. 

1 Chapter x. 5. 


In the description of the tragic experiences of that crisis, 
we note the pains taken to lay bare the infirmity of Jesus, 
the object being to show the extreme improbability of one 
who so behaved assuming the priestly office without a 
Divine call. The familiar fact that Jesus prayed that the 
cup might pass from Him is stated in the strongest terms : 
"When He had offered prayers and supplications with 
strong crying" ; and a particular is mentioned not other- 
wise known, that the prayers were accompanied with 
"tears." Jesus is thus made to appear manifesting, con- 
fessing His weakness, frankly and unreservedly ; even as the 
high priest of Israel confessed his weakness when he offered 
a sacrifice for himself before he presented an offering for the 
people. Whether the writer had in his view a parallel 
between Christ's agony in the 'garden and the high priest's 
offering for himself it is impossible to decide, although 
several things give plausibility to the suggestion, such as 
the use of the sacrificial term trpoa-eviyica^ in reference to 
Christ's prayer in the garden. 1 What is certain is that he 
is careful to point out that Christ was compassed with 
infirmity not less real, though sinless, than that which in 
the case of the Jewish high priest made it necessary that 
he should offer a sacrifice for himself before offering for the 
people; the moral being, how unlikely that one who so 
shrank from the cup of death should be the usurper of an 
office which involved the drinking of that cup ! 

The hearing of Christ's prayer referred to in the last 
clause of ver. 7 belongs to the description of His sinless 
infirmity. Whether we render, " And being heard for His 
piety," or "and being heard (and delivered) from the fear" 
(of death as distinct from death itself), is immaterial; 2 in 

i Hoffmann, Schriftbeweis, ii. 399, earnestly contends that such a parallel is 
intended. Vide The Humiliation of Christ, p. 277, where I have stated and 
adopted his view. I still feel its attraction, but I am not so sure that the 
alleged parallel was present to the writer's mind. 

2 Opinion is very much divided as between these two renderings of the words 


any case the answer consisted in deliverance from that fear, 
in courage given to face death. Some have supposed that 
the reference is to the resurrection and ascension. But it is 
not permissible to read into the passage a hidden allusion 
to events of such importance. Moreover the reference is 
excluded by the consideration that all that is spoken of in 
ver. 7 leads up to the main affirmation in ver. 8, and 
must be included under the category of learning obedience. 
The last clause of ver. 7 describes the attitude of one who 
shrank from death, and who was at length enabled to face 
death by special aid in answer to prayer delivering him 
from fear ; that is to say, of one who in all that related to 
the passion was only learning obedience. The point to be 
emphasised is, not so much that the prayer of Jesus was 
heard, as that it needed to be heard ; that He needed 
heavenly aid to drink the appointed cup. 

To perform, or even to attempt, such a task .without a 
conscious Divine call was impossible. Even with a clear 
consciousness of such a call it was difficult. That is the 
truth stated in ver. 8, in these terms : " Though He was a 
Son, yet learned He obedience from the things which He 
suffered." Freely paraphrased these words mean : In His 
earthly experience Christ was so far from playing the part 
of one who was taking to Himself the honour of the priest- 
hood, that He was simply throughout submitting to God's 
purpose to make Him a Priest; and the circumstances 
were such as made obedience to the Divine will anything 
but easy, rather a painful process of learning. Keference 
is made to Christ's sonship to enhance the impression of 
difficulty. Though He was a son full of love and devotion 
to His Father, intensely, enthusiastically loyal to the Divine 

cfocLKovaOeU ivb rrp edXafielas, many weighty names being on either side. 
Bleek supports the first view, Bengel the second. On the whole, the weight of 
authority and of argument inclines to the rendering, "being heard for His 
piety, or His godly fear." 



interest, ever accounting it His meat and drink to do His 
Father's will, yet even for Him so minded it was a matter 
of arduous learning to comply with the Father's will in 
connexion with His priestly vocation. For it must be 
understood that the obedience here spoken of has that 
specific reference. The aim is not to state didactically that 
in His earthly life Jesus was a learner in the virtue of 
obedience all round, but especially to predicate of Him 
learning obedience in connexion with His priestly calling 
— obedience to God's will that He should be a Priest. 

But why should obedience be so difficult in this con- 
nexion ? The full answer comes later on, but it is hinted 
at even here. It is because priesthood involves for the 
Priest death (ver. 7), mortal suffering (ver. 8) ; because the 
Priest is at the same time victim. And it is in the light of 
this fact that we clearly see how impossible it was that the 
spirit of ambition should come into play with reference to 
the priestly office in the case of Christ. Self-glorification 
was excluded by the nature of the service. One might be 
tempted to take unto himself the honour of the Aaronic 
priesthood, though even with reference to it one who fully 
realized its responsibilities would be disposed to exclaim, 
" Nolo pontifex fieri." A vain, thoughtless, or ambitious 
man might covet the office of Aaron, because of the honour 
and power which it conferred. In point of fact, there were 
many ambitious high priests in Israel's last, degenerate 
days, as there have been many ambitious ecclesiastics. But 
there was no risk of a self-seeker coveting the priestly 
office of Christ, because in that office the Priest had, not 
only to offer, but Himself to be the sacrifice. With refe- 
rence to such a priesthood, a self-seeker would be sure to 
say, "I do not wish it ; I have no taste for such an 
honour." Yea, even one who was no self-seeker might say, 
"If it be possible, let me escape the dread vocation"; and he 
would accept its responsibilities only after a sore struggle 


with the reluctance of sentient nature, such as martyrs have 
experienced before appearing with serene countenance at 
the stake. The holy, sinless Jesus did indeed say " no " 
for a moment in reference to this unique sort of priesthood. 
His agony in Gethsemane, so touchingly alluded to in our 
epistle, was an emphatic " no," which proved that, far 
from proudly aspiring, He found it hard even to humbly 
submit to be made a priest. 1 

The verses which follow (9, 10) show the other side of 
the picture : how He who glorified not Himself to be made 
a priest was glorified by God ; became a priest indeed, 
efficient in the highest degree, acknowledged as such by 
His Father, whose will He had loyally obeyed. ".And being 
perfected became to all who obey Him author of eternal 
salvation, saluted by God ' High Priest after the order 
of Melchisedec.' " A weighty, pregnant sentence, setting 
forth the result of Christ's earthly experience in terms 
suitable to the initial stage of the discussion concerning 
His priestly office, implying much that is not expressly 
stated, and suggesting questions that are not answered, and 
therefore liable to diverse interpretation. 

"Being perfected," how? In obedience, and by obedi- 
ence even unto death, perfected for the office of priest, 
death being the final stage in His training, through which 
He became a Pontifex consummatus. Some think the 
reference is to the resurrection and ascension. So, e.g., 
Pfleiderer, who thus argues : " rekewdek is not the moral 
perfecting in the learning of obedience through suffering, 
but a new moment, the last result of that learning, through 
which Christ was placed in a position to become the cause 

1 Beferring to the agony in the garden, I have said in The Humiliation oj 
Christ, " That agony was an awfully earnest, utterly sincere, while perfectly 
sinless, nolo Pontifex fieri, bn the part of One who realized the tremendous 
responsibilities of the post to which He was summoned, and who was unable 
for the moment to find any comfort in the thought of its honours aud pro- 
spective joys " (p. 276). 


of blessedness. What that condition is we gather partly 
from the connexion, partly from ver. 7. There it is said 
that Christ -prayed to His Father to save Him from death, 
and was heard for His piety. This piety is then described 
in ver. 8 ; whereupon ver. 9, with TekeuvOcfa takes np the 
elaaxovcrOek of ver. 7, and so says that He was saved from 
death, which of course in this case is to be referred to the 
exaltation following on the resurrection." 1 It is a plausible 
and tempting line of thought, but I cannot help feeling that 
the writer of our epistle has studiously avoided such specific 
references, and expressed himself in general terms fitted 
to convey the moral truths involved independently of time 
and place. I therefore see no reason for assigning to 
reXeiaOek a different meaning from that which seemed to 
be the most appropriate in chapter ii. 10. 

Being made perfect in and through death, Jesus became 
vpso facto author of eternal salvation, the final experience 
of suffering, by which His training for the priestly office 
was completed, being at the same time His great priestly 
achievement. Such I take to be the writer's meaning. 
This interpretation implies that in his view the death of 
Christ was a priestly act, not merely a preparation for a 
priesthood to be exercised afterwards, in heaven. Nay, not 
merely a priestly act, but the great priestly act, the fact- 
basis of the whole doctrine of Christ's priesthood. I have 
no doubt that such is the case. It is noteworthy, in this 
connexion, that the first and the last times the writer 
refers to the subject of Christ's priestly work, chapter ii. 9 
and chapter x. 10, it is to His death that he gives pro- 
minence : " that He should taste death for every man " ; 

1 Paulinismus, p. 344. Pfleiderer finds a reference to the heavenly state in 
all the texts which speak of the perfecting of Christ. He holds moreover that 
where the word is used in reference to men, it includes in its meaning the idea 
of glorification, combining the Pauline diKatow with the Pauline doldfet* ; the 
combination illustrating the characteristic ambiguity of the epistle in regarding 
the Christian salvation as at once a present and a future good. 


" we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus 
Christ." That Christ's priestly ministry is placed in the 
heavenly sanctuary is not less certain, and the two views 
seem to be in flat contradiction to each other. Whether 
they can be reconciled and how are questions which may 
come up for discussion hereafter ; meantime let us be content 
to leave the two views side by side, an unresolved antinomy, 
not seeking escape from difficulty by denying either. 

The statement that through death Jesus became ipso 
facto author of salvation is not falsified by the fact that 
the essential point in a sacrifice was its presentation before 
God in the sanctuary, which in the Levitical system took 
place subsequently to the slaughtering of the victim, when 
the priest took the blood within the tabernacle and sprinkled 
it on the altar of incense or on the mercy-seat. The death 
of our High Priest is to be conceived of as including all 
the steps of the sacrificial process within itself. Lapse of 
time or change of place is not necessary to the accomplish- 
ment of the work. The death of the victim, the presenta- 
tion of the sacrificial blood — all was performed when Christ 
cried TereKearai. 1 

It is not the writer's object in this place to indicate the 
nature of " salvation," — that is, the precise benefit procured 
for men by Christ as Priest, — but simply to indicate the fact 
that He attained to the high honour of being the source or 
author of salvation. Two facts however he notifies respect- 
ing the salvation of which Christ is the author : that it is 
eternal, and that it is available for those who obey Him. 
The epithet aubvios, here used for the first time, frequently 
recurs in the sequel. It is one of the great, characteristic 

1 Some theologians, such as Professor Smeaton, contend for an entrance 
41 within the veil " by Christ, with His blood, in His disembodied state, imme- 
diately after His death on the cross. The feeling which dictates this view is 
right, bat the view itself takes too literally and prosaically the parallel between 
Christ and the Jewish high priest. For Professor Smeaton's view vide The 
Apostles* Doctrine of the Atonement, p. 48. 


watchwords of the epistle, intended to proclaim the abso- 
lute final nature of Christianity, in contrast to the transient 
nature of the Levitical religion. Possibly it is meant here 
to suggest a contrast between the eternal salvation procured 
by Christ and the annual salvation effected by the cere- 
monial of the great day of atonement. More probably 
its introduction at this place is due to the desire to make 
the salvation correspond in character to the Melchisedec 
type of priesthood, whose leading feature is perpetuity : 
" Thou art a Priest for ever." To the same sense of con- 
gruity it is due that obedience to Christ is accentuated 
as the condition of salvation. Christ became a Saviour 
through obedience to the will of His Father, and it is meet 
that He in turn should be obeyed by those who are to 
receive the benefit of His arduous service. It is a thought 
kindred to that expressed by Christ Himself when He spake 
of the Son of man laying down His life for the many as 
the way He took to become the greatest, and to be minis- 
tered unto by willing subjects. 

The Divine acknowledgment of Christ's priestly dignity, 
referred to in ver. 10, is not to be prosaically interpreted 
as a formal appointment ; whether a first appointment, as 
some think, to an official position now commencing in the 
state of exaltation, or a second confirming a first made 
long before, alluded to in the Messianic oracle quoted in 
ver. 6 from Psalm ex. 1 It is rather the animated recog- 
nition of an already existing fact. Christ, called from of 

i Mr. Kendall takes this view. He says : " The language of this verse and 
the context alike point to a new appointment quite distinct from that recorded 
in the Psalms, though both refer to the same Melchisedec priesthood. Psalm ex. 
has been oited as evidence of the earlier appointment of God's Anointed by 
prophetic anticipation to a priesthood. This verse declares the formal recog- 
nition of His high priesthood by a Divine salutation addressed personally to 
Jesus" (The Epistle to the Hebrews, p. 45). I agree with him so far as to 
recognise the distinction between the two appointments, only I cannot regard 
the expression "formal recognition " as true to the spirit of the passage com- 
mented on. 


old to be a priest in virtue of His sonship, and made a 
priest indeed by His arduous training on earth, is cordially 
owned to be a priest when the death which completed His 
training, and constituted Him a priest, had been endured — 
whether immediately after the passion or after the ascension 
must be left undetermined. The style is dramatic, and the 
language emotional. God is moved by the spectacle of His 
Son's self-sacrifice, as of old He had been moved by the 
readiness of Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, and exclaims, 
" Thou art a Priest indeed ! " That the writer is not 
thinking of a formal appointment, which creates a position 
previously non-existent, appears from the liberties he takes 
with the words of the oracle which contains the evidence 
that Christ was a God-called Priest : " high priest " substi- 
tuted for " priest," and " for ever " omitted. The former of 
these changes is specially noteworthy. It is not accidental 
and trivial, but intended and significant. The alteration is 
made to suit the situation : Christ, already a High Priest in 
virtue of functions analogous to those of Aaron, and now 
and henceforth a priest after the order of Melchisedec. The 
oracle, as adjusted, combines the past with the future, the 
earthly with the heavenly, the temporal with the eternal. 

Translated into abstract language, ver. 10 supplies the 
rationale of the fact stated in verse 9. Its effect is to tell 
us that Christ became author of eternal salvation because 
He was a true High Priest after the order of Melchisedec : 
author of salvation in virtue of His being a priest, author 
of eternal salvation, because His priesthood was of the 
Melchisedec type — never ending. 

The words put into the mouth of God serve yet another 
purpose : to indicate the lines along which the writer in- 
tends to develop the subject of Christ's priesthood. His 
plan is to employ two types of priesthood to exhibit the 
nature of the perfect priesthood of the absolute final re- 
ligion — the order of Aaron, and the order of Melchisedec. 


I say not that he means to teach that Christ occupied 
successively two priestly offices, one like that of Aaron, the 
other like that of Melchisedec, the former on earth, the 
latter in heaven. That is too erode a view of the matter. 
His plan rather is to utilize the Aaronic priesthood to set 
forth the nature of Christ's priestly functions, and the 
Melchisedec priesthood to set forth their ideal worth and 
eternal validity ; and he here as it were lets us into the 
secret. The plan in both its parts is based on Scripture 
warrant, to be produced at the proper place. This view of 
the writer's method is not to be summarily set aside by the 
assertions that priest and high priest are synonymous terms, 
and that the functions of all orders of priesthood are the 
same. As to the one point, it is enough to say that the 
writer uses the two words with discrimination : " priest " 
when likening Christ to Melchisedec, "high priest" when 
comparing Him with Aaron. As to the other, it is to be 
remarked that no mention is made of sacrificial functions in 
connexion with Melchisedec's history as given in Genesis, 
and that the writer evidently does not choose to ascribe to 
him functions not spoken of in the record. Arguing from 
his way of drawing inferences from the silences of history, 
one might rather conclude that because he found no sacri- 
ficial functions mentioned in the story, he therefore assumed 
that such duties as were performed by Aaron about the 
tabernacle did not enter into the idea of the Melchisedec 

The words, " high priest after the order of Melchisedec," 
containing the programme of the discussion about to be 
entered on, we expect to find the two topics suggested 
taken up in this order : first, Christ as High Priest ; next, 
Christ as Priest after the order of Melchisedec. In point 
of fact, they are taken up in the inverse order. Why, we 
may be able to discover in a future paper. 

A. B. Bruce. 




Christ comes to the baptism, finding in that ritual the 
expression of thoughts with which He is labouring. These 
thoughts, emphasized by the ritual, find their antitheses 
in the temptation. A ritual nourishes the roots of the 
thoughts it expresses. He is on the banks of the Jordan 
in a human society which shades down from John to the 
basest of men. Whatever men may be, the law of humanity 
remains, " Thus it becometh us to fulfil all righteousness." 
To be human, in the ideal of humanity, is all righteousness. 
Christ, in baptism, accepts this humanity. 

After the ritual, our Lord hurries into a wild, weird, 
lone waste, carrying a flood of great thoughts, to inspect 
the elements of the situation. The creation of a spiritual 
humanity of a superior order is the gravity upon His mind. 
He is with Himself in this wilderness, engaged upon the 
plan of His own being and the specifications of the archi- 
tecture before Him. He who creates must have a plan. 
He chooses His methods, and finds definitions for Himself. 
He looks to His destination, and settles Himself into its 
terms and limits. The temptations, what we call the 
temptations, are surveys of. the situation; and from them 
came the battle of alternatives, competitions of methods, 
divergences from the predestined ideals, which lend them- 
selves as oppositions in the scheme of things. 

In this collision of procedure He encounters the Bread 
Problem of the world. The problem of food lies in the very 
core of humanity, inheres in its very structure. In the 
earliest look we give to our being, as we front the adventure 
of it, we find that our food is big in the schedule. He who 
wishes to teach men how to live, he who would pre- 
scribe methods of life, he who would be a regenerator of 

tol. it. 24 


£ht*~>j zcA *j&£zg, sinsc *ttik «rm*eir - M z m rnsttinn. 
<~\r.9t> ha/i a B^*a*t rncuan ix ~— ?.w- ami th so 3oItc_ 
fr, »-... r>t ~7 ai~ v, li'rit* Tras ic& ¥ici Pr:ciffm. wiljA 

rr»vi.££a£tf,r_i of she I/jrize c?:«^azizie H^ hclds- 

T r.r» rntrviacsory eiparasfcss are miry before we 

we* reaih thft heart of otz snhiect, to cLear she ground erf 
tr^ ar^praer.t, a&d thej *tzlj so zhe tiree tempt&sions. 

Fint, that these tersupiASisus el:l5S be srriidy regarded 
a* ri^iorA ar;d debates of the rr.rni. The arena on which 
thfc battle of alternatives and cor^pssisiiris is foighc is the 
spirit. It is po&*:cJe lor the devil to carry Christ on his 
nhorAfam, and actually place him on one of the spikes or 
finial* of the Temple towers, thoo^h to many minds it mast 
&pp<?*r a clumsy procedure for the sublime purpose of a 
temptation, lint it is not possible for the devil to place 
Chriit on any mountain in Palestine or elsewhere where 
If fc could literally see the kingdoms of the world. To see 
with the eye the kingdoms of the world means seeing 
Babylon, Kphesus, Athens, Corinth, Borne ; the legions of 
I Co mo in their military accoutrement, and flush of victory ; 
the commerce of Corinth carried in its ships and stored in 
it* warehouses ; the philosophy of Athens in the manu- 
scripts of TCuripides and Plato ; the literature of the classic 
a#o in the library of Alexandria. This is a sheer visual 
impossibility. The spectacle of the kingdoms is mental. If 
the literal and physical break down in the third temptation, 
thoy fail equally with the first and second. The tempta- 
tions are thoughts, looks of the mind, inspections of the 
situation, repulsions and attractions in the scheme of life 
appointed to Him. A temptation is a superior plan of 
action struggling with the inferior, the will with its deter- 
minations facing the Divine predestinations. 

The subjectivity of the temptations is further confirmed 


by the order preserved in Luke's narrative. He makes 
Matthew's third temptation to be the second. Canon 
Farrar in his classic Life of Christ, adopting the traditional 
view that the first temptation was addressed to the hunger 
of Christ, and the second to a fall from a giddy height, very 
properly adds, " both orders cannot be right," and then 
makes an apology for inspiration. But both orders are 
right, if the temptations are in the realm of the subjective. 
The thoughts crossed and recrossed each other, occurred 
and recurred, and the record is simply a classified summary 
of forty days' reflections and examinations. Any order now 
becomes right. 

A second explanation respects the nature of the literature 
before us, which is poetic. The historians got their report 
of the thought of the forty days from Christ Himself, and 
He is the Master of parables. A diary of forty days' intense 
studies and rapt surveys, of the mental absorption which 
had suspended the functions of the body, cannot be com- 
pressed in ten lines of print. The journal is turned into a 
poem ; the report is partly dramatic, partly epic in form, 
a kind of literature not known in the modern world, and 
belongs to the genius of the Hebrew nation. In the first 
chapter of Genesis we have the history of tens of thousands 
of years, the chemistry and physiology, the flora and fauna, 
the geology and biology, of millenniums of time condensed 
into one page. Here we have wide ranges of visions ex- 
tracted into ten lines. This manner of literature is only 
possible to the poetic faculty, and probably to the Shemitic 
species of poetry. We see the artist, who can make a 
picture of leagues of cloud and miles of mountain by the 
mixture of a few colours, by a few strokes of the brush, on 
a canvas a foot square. The poet can idealize the infinite 
in a few similitudes. The register of these forty days is 
the painting of an artist with a creative mind. The litera- 
ture is not historical writing ; it is not a chronicle. It is 


history sublimed, facts idealized, details generalized, and a 
poem got. It sums op as on painted canvas, on stained 
marble, in statuesque, the history of an unique situation. 
Poetry is often superior to history, always nearest to the 
human understanding. 

The three temptations are a poem, in which the Divine 
theory of Christ's situation is pictured, in which human 
life appears in its laws, limitations, first principles, inner 
meanings. There is a glow and thrill in the story which 
only poetry could import into it. It is curious to note that 
Milton's Paradise Regained is wholly these temptations in 
a modern epic garb, as if the poet's genius had perceived 
that Christ's entire mission was mirrored in them. 

Third. The literal history is made altogether improbable, 
and the exclusive mental sphere of the temptations made 
certain, by the fact reported by Mark and Luke, that the 
temptations were distributed over the whole of the forty 
days, and are not concentrated into three intense activities 
at the end of them, which last is the reading uniformly 
given by interpreters. It is said, " And Jesus being full of 
the Holy Ghost returned from Jordan, and was led by the 
Spirit into the wilderness, being forty days tempted of the 
devil." This diffusion of the temptations requires that we 
separate the hunger of Christ from the incitement to turn 
stones into bread. It requires us to take the first two verses 
of Matthew's and Luke's narrative as the historical intro- 
duction not to the first temptation only, but to all three. 
We confuse history with poetry, and the historic intro- 
duction with the ideal story, when we connect the hunger 
with the first temptation. The order in which the tempta- 
tions are given depends upon the standpoint of the narrator. 
The Bread Problem was probably first in time, occurring 
however again during the forty days. The "World Temp- 
tation is however the first in order of rank, recurring 
also all through the forty days. Luke may as well have 


put Matthew's third as first, as be has Matthew's third 
as second. 

Our Lord's hunger has no more to do with the first 
temptation than with the second. We must separate with 
an accentuated clearness the hunger at the end of the forty 
days from the proposal to convert stones into bread. Our 
Lord became hungry after the temptations were past. 
When the ecstasy of thought, the mental abstraction is 
over, the temptations are over. When the tension of 
thought and temptation is past, the body remembers itself, 
and recovers its suspended functions. When Moses is 
engrossed giving a constitution to Israel, he neither eats 
nor drinks. When Christ is thinking out a constitution for 
the kingdom of the soul, He neither eats nor drinks. The 
hunger comes when distinctions are got and decisions 
taken, and the victory is obtained. The conversion of 
stones into bread was not the trial of a hungry man. The 
hunger is felt after the abstraction and thought subside, 
and the temptations belong to the period of abstraction, 
and depart with it. The hunger is outside the temptation. 

The temptations are prefaced by three facts : the locality 
of the wilderness, the mental entrancement of forty days, 
the hunger which follows the cessation of the entrancement. 
There history ends. Then the details of the temptations 
are reported as idealities, pictured in the form of proposals 
to convert stones into bread, to take a leap down from the 
finial of the Temple tower, to accept the offer of the king- 
doms of the world. The poetic form of the literature, the 
thought-sphere of the temptation, the separation of the 
hunger from the proposal to convert stones into bread, 
reveal the grandeur of the occasion. If the trial consisted 
in the pang of hunger, and this as an introductory taste of 
hardship and a suggested dislike to a mission involving 
pain, it is poor enough. But the address is made to the 
deepest that is in Christ, to the philanthropy of His soul 


and the pain of philanthropy, and to His mission as the 
Creator of a new quality of the human soul. It is not mere 
endurance, physical and moral, that is tested here, but it is 
a vision of the structure of human nature which is given to 
Christ, and the problem is handed to Him to develop a new 
quality in it. This is not an address to the luxurious use of 
power, nor is it intended to rouse a disappointment with 
His situation because He was hungry. Every temptation is 
a revelation, and this is a revelation of the forces needed to 
make men Christian. The temptation to convert stones 
into bread is a temptation to the use of inferior forces, 
which will be short and transient methods with human 
nature. It is a modification of the original plan in the 
interests of philanthropy. It is a subtle seduction. 

The natural basis of this subtle seduction is the Bread 
Problem of our world, and its relations both to the comfort 
of men and to the spiritualities which Christ has come 
to introduce. Our Lord has just come from the artisan 
life in Nazareth. Nazareth is a town notorious for its 
poverty and ill conditions of human nature. In village 
huts He had seen and felt how hard it is for men to make 
their daily bread, and what bread is made is mostly coarse, 
scanty, hard fare, unworthy of us. The normal condition 
is one of bare subsistence ; chronic poverty is man's out- 
ward estate. The comfortable classes make a limited upper 
ten thousand. The masses and the millions live on the 
edge of famine, with just enough to pay rent and taxes, 
make ends meet, and life passable. We begin at the point 
of nothing, and continue to the end apprentices to labour, 
clerks to industry, and masters only of want. The harvest 
of the year is always trembling in an uncertain balance ; 
sunshine and rain seem to be badly proportioned, frost and 
heat are untimely, we look ever with anxiety to the autumn 
fates. This universal, abnormal destitution of the human 


race engages the earliest thought of Him who accepts the 
position of its chief and Eedeemer. How want pressed on 
every side of us, what a hand to mouth struggle it was, and 
without dignity, how the earth refuses to give us more than 
dry crusts, — these facts, these humiliations, are a vision to 
the Head of the race who is considering His plans for the 
spiritual republic. He naturally encounters on the threshold 
this primeval, cleaving circumstance, environing human 
nature as a curse, and apparently degrading it. 

To reduce the pressure of this controlling force, to make 
the terms of natural existence easier, to call up a new 
history of humanity by removing this Bread Problem, to 
get this relief as the dominant feature of His work, is the 
insidious thought which receives the drapery and dramatic 
force of the words, " Command that these stones be made 

The instigation to this thought is in the possession of 
power. " If Thou art the Son of God, and in the conscious- 
ness of power by Thy recent baptism, as solar worlds and 
planetary conjunctions, light and heat, are at Thy bidding, 
grow heavier harvests, make Thyself monarch of plenty, 
make men comfortable, save them by first mitigating their 
hard outward lot. An acre produces twenty-eight bushels 
of wheat, cause it to produce one hundred bushels, and the 
lot is mended, and they will be set free to more elevating 
occupations." The income per head in Britain is £30, in 
France £20, in Turkey £4, in India £2. Men are underfed, 
underclothed, underhoused. Baise this income to £300 a 
year, and the human conditions will be dignified and 
sweetened. This is the idea which the allegory of the 
temptation literature expresses. Wheat is a grass, a wild 
grass specialized by cultivation. The discovery of another 
wild grass, capable of an edible variation, hardy, enduring 
opposite climates of heat and cold, dampness and dryness, 
holding a heavier head of grain, richer in gluten and starch, 


which is within the capabilities of our wild grasses, would 
materially alter the condition of man's life on earth. This 
gift of comfort will be a fine foundation on which to rest 
the spiritualities of the kingdoms. This new enactment by 
Him who is the Lawgiver of the race would be the best 
inauguration of the new society to be established. This is 
a plausible method of procedure, and the devil of a modified 
programme which appeals to Him. 

The address is made to the best in Christ, to the sympathy 
of the heart. Who that has thought to any purpose, and 
who carries a feeling in the soul for his race, has not felt 
the sharpest pang of being that so many of his kind, with 
noblest possibilities, are badly housed, coarsely fed, rudely 
dressed ? Who that has seen the beauty of the human face, 
of man and maiden in their prime, and loves a human face 
by innate attractions within him, and thinks of the poverty, 
the incapacity, the want of opportunity which are the lot 
of men, has not felt that the plan of being is too severe, 
and soothed his pain with the indispensable future which 
is to compensate humanity for its present suppressions? 
Patience alone quiets our pain, and in impatience we wait. 
" Command that these stones be made bread," is the sum- 
mary of a wish for a swift, short, but unsafe expedient for 
the elevation of the race. It is philanthropy in a hurry. 

The pathos of the soul, the movement of families, the 
migration of races, the fortunes of nations, and the history 
of the world, have been inspired by the price of bread. 

One of the earliest records of a human sigh expresses the 
hope of relief from the unending strife of finding bread. 
In the traditions of the Shemitic race, Lamech is known to 
have said on the birth of a child, " This same shall comfort 
us concerning the . . . toil of our hands, because of the 
ground which the Lord hath cursed." Hebrew nationality 
its sources in a famine. The family of Jacob go to 
ot in a dearth of food, and find Joseph superintending a 


dearth-oppressed nation. There they remain, and abandon 
those nomadic habits indigenous to the Shemite, and a 
national cohesion begins. There the family becomes the 
nation, and develops its own peculiar genius of religion 
under the stimulating influences of the wisdom of Egypt. 
Their last education into nationality was in the want of the 
wilderness, which left traces in them which were never lost, 
and to which they turn as unforgotten history. Euth falls 
into the royal line of David in the progress of a famine. 
The Greeks and the Hindus started from the uplands of 
the Caucasus in search of new lands, when their own native 
highlands could no longer support the growing population. 
The fortunes of East and West took colour from the bread 
migrations of this vigorous Aryan race. That the Greek 
and Sanscrit languages are varieties of the same language 
once spoken by the same race is one of the central discoveries 
of our day. 

Plato is writing philosophy when he says, " The body is a 
source of endless trouble to us by reason of the mere require- 
ment of food." 1 Tacitus says that Augustus Caesar was 
able to turn Borne into an imperial state by supplying 
cheap corn to its starving multitudes. 8 That vilest of men 
and most wicked of princes, the Emperor Nero, who was a 
punishment to his age, had a hold on the affections of Borne 
by keeping granaries of corn ever ready to feed its popula- 
tion: In the century of our Lord, Jerusalem had suffered 
much from scarcities. The messianic hope became corn 
romances, which pictured the Messiah as standing on the 
shores of Joppa, the Mediterranean wafting pearls at His 
feet, and He distributing bread to the people, and want and 
toil becoming memories of the past. The only occasion 
when the popular enthusiasm ran so high on the side of 
Christ that the people would have made Him a king, was 

1 Jowett'a Plato, " Ph»do," vol. i., p. 439. 

2 Annals, book i. 2. 

TZ2 21Z*Z r2':2 'fY Z7 ?EZ WZ1ZZ 

iez:ju:. t i&i a hi,r:.-=r zifjfe. ii zrrzL£ r izl! ib* pisasc s^jxied 
thfc richer js^nL wi^ih lie b:cy reeled ic he r&ralel whh 
\l& sririi, ;^i^.fai l~ f-w;"" 1z iir, :& Iit she revise con- 

tiz.Zx& iza vzzzz- Ir. F rmse *i* rnr gi ;#? zz IT* was 

flowed I j & wir::er beL:w shs fna£2±iz rccni- I7S3 was a 
farr..r,e s r. lt Ciiri acl Siise. E^riey tread, 
soaked bran, tlt-ULj rye, were the f;cd c£ the people. 
On J^y 14:h the Easrlle £rl^ which has crur.ged the 
lace of E^iTTpe to this day. Had Lc:ds XYL, Lke Xeio f 
kept granaries to feed ihe pecrle. E^r:pe had never seen 
a N&i/oleon- That BevcI^iiGii, the product of hunger, 
originated ideas of franchises which siiLI nle Europe. 
" Fancy, then, some Five full grown M7T!:-n* of such gaunt 
figures, with their haggard faces .figure* hires ; in woollen 
jupea, with copper-studded leather girths, and high sabots, 
starting up to ask, as in forest-roarings, their washed Upper 
Classes, after long unrenewed centuries, virtually this 
question : How have ye treated us ; how taught us, fed us, 
led us, while we toiled for you? The answer can be read in 
flames, on the nightly summer-sky : . . . Emptiness, — 
of pocket, of stomach, of head and of heart. Behold there 
is nothing in us ; nothing but what Nature gives her wild 
children of the desert: Ferocity and Appetite; Strength 
grounded on Hunger. Did ye mark among your Bights of 

1 Heine's Wit, Wisdom, and Pathos, p. 289. Bj Snodgrmsa, 


Man, that man was not to die of starvation, while there was 
bread reaped by him? It is among the Mights of Man." l 

We are the wealthiest country in Europe. In 1847, 
within living memory, half a million of men perished in the 
Irish famine by the failure of Drake's potato and Heine's 
specific. Thousands died with the spade in the hand ; the 
dying were not fed ; the dead were not buried. The whole 
social system of Ireland depended upon the potato. Two 
millions emigrated to America, to give a Celtic human floor 
to the new world as the old world had the same, making 
perhaps the greatest human exodus known in modern 
history. It was in the struggle of the corn laws that 
Cobden and Bright received the ingrained conviction that 
we should not be a happy nation till our representative 
institutions were perfected, an idea which has influenced 
the course of politics ever since, and its issues will colour 
our history to the very end. During the last ten years 
we have heard the howl of hunger in Ireland, and seen the 
madness of it ; and in Scotland the crofter cry for more 
bread and better bread is making a patient people rebel- 
lious. In thirty years famines have carried off twelve mil- 
lions of people in India and cost the Government twenty 
millions of money. 

In the forefront of the speech which Mr. Parnell de- 
livered on receiving the great Irish testimonial to his 
services is his sympathy with human want, which was his 
power and his opportunity. 

" I looked round, and saw artisans in the towns struggling for a 
precarious existence with a torpid trade and with everything against 
them. I saw also the tenant farmer trembling before the eye of the 
landlord, with the knowledge that in that landlord's power rested the 
whole future of himself and his family ; that his position was literally 
no better, physically not so good, as the lot of the South African 
negro ; . . . that his life was a constant struggle to keep a roof over 

1 Carlyle, French Revolution, vol. i., book vi., " General Overturn," p. 179. 



his head and over the head* of his family, ... I saw the Irish 
labourer, the lowest of the low. the slave of the slave, with not even a 
dry roof over hi* head, with the rain from heaven dropping on the 
conch on which he was forced to lie, dressed in rags, subsisting on 
the meanest food. . . . Here was a nation carrying on its life, 
striving for existence, striving for nationhood, under snch difficulties 
as had never beset any other people on the face of the globe." — 
Timet, Dec. \2th, 18*5. 

A Regenerator, a Redeemer, a Power, who is going to 
make history, most take this economic problem as an 
important factor in His calculations. When our Lord 
retired for thought, we find our Lord doing just what we 
should have expected Him to do : to begin His inspection 
of human laws and forces where man's life begins, and to 
adjust Himself to the external, natural, and physical life of 
man, as it stands related to the inner, psychic, and spiritual 
life. The sensuousness of man has always to be reckoned 
with in treating him. The sensuousness has to be re- 
spected and harmonized. Merely to live is the first prize of 
our being ; and yet to keep ourselves alive, to keep this prize, 
is a grim effort all our days. The heavy price we pay for 
this prize is the struggle to keep ourselves living, and there 
is even a pleasure in the struggle ; it is so central to live. 
We will not resign life, spite of the fierce battle. Suicide is 
the last insanity of our nature. 

This line of thought gives a natural basis to that con- 
ference with Himself which Christ holds in the wilderness, 
out of which comes the tempting wish, which calls the 
power of divinity to its aid. The poor shall never cease out 
of the land. The struggle for bread is always to be there. 
By this economic law spiritual eminences will be obtained, 
nourished in the soil of want and carrying a moral chemistry 
from it, and the higher kingdoms will be found. " Blessed 
are the poor in spirit : for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." 

I shall verify the conclusion at which we have arrived 
by the equations we obtain from it to our own situation. 


1. In the refusal to be a corngrower and the discoverer of 
a cereal of a richer potency, Christ reveals the ground-plan 
of our being. " Man doth not live by bread alone, but by 
every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." 
This is quoted from an ancient document. It is history 
that God is the basis of human nature, religion the archsean 
gneiss and fundamental floor, in which all the stratifications 
of human thought and activity are deposited. Man lives 
by revelations of God and commandments of God. The 
primitive and primary element in man is his sense of God, 
and his responsiveness to far off connexions, and to the tide 
of the infinite playing on his faculties. The mind ingre- 
dient in the protoplasm of us distances us from nature, 
though we are a constituent part of it ; and the nature of 
mind is seen in its opening correspondences with God. He 
who would redeem man or renovate him, He who would 
elevate the type of him, and initiate an epoch in his history, 
must make this structure the stress of his central thoughts. 
Religion gives to man his centralness, and to give him a 
new direction or development you must touch the vital 

This sense of God, this divineness, becomes conspicuous 
in the thoughts of these days. Abraham began his career 
in the youthful antiquity of our world by a new conception 
of God and a new sensitiveness to Him. The cohesion of 
the Hebrew nationality was got from a finer responsiveness 
which Moses has found and which is expressed by the name 
Jehovah. The epoch of modern history takes its mark from 
Christ. The last turn which Europe took, and on the lines 
of which it is still moving, was obtained through Luther 
and a religious revolution. Grote has said of Greece, 
" Grecian antiquity cannot be at all understood except in 
connexion with Grecian religion." 1 Gibbon has said of 
Rome, " The innumerable deities and rites of polytheism 

1 History of Greece, vol. i., p. 400. Library edition. 


were closely interwoven with every circumstance of public 
and private life." l Renouf says of the ancient Egyptians, 
" Religion in some form or other was dominant in every 
relation of their lives." 8 

Religion as the uniform expression of man's deepest 
thought, and as a continuous factor in history, ever present, 
I must pronounce as the marvel of our world. We are so 
familiar with it, that the marvel is lost upon us. Our Lord 
explains the portentous phenomenon which Gibbon and 
Grote and Renouf have registered, by the principle that 
man's structure is such that he must be a Divine feeder. 
The nutriment indexes the nature, and the nature the 
nutriment. His constitution requires Divine revelations; 
he can live only by the natural operation of his faculties 
upon God, in congenialities and correspondences. There is 
a hunger in him which no harvest by sea or land can still. 
He looks upward to God. He sees God ; he worships a 
Father ; he sacrifices to Powers that rule him from above. 
To keep right with the august Being that invests him 
round is the high struggle which shows his high quality, 
and to inspire him in this struggle is the main business 
of redemption ; all other things shall be added to this. 
Primitive man, when the world was young, saw a shell on 
the seashore, felt its pearly lustre and its spiral lines and 
flutings ; perhaps putting it to his ear, he heard the roar of 
the sea in the imprisoned vibrations within its chambers, 
like the phonograph that keeps the sound that once was 
started in it : and he startles with a vision of the infinite 
Hand that carved those lines and set those colours. In the 
dreams which love reflected in its contest with death, the 
dreamer saw his lost friend in other fields and other shores, 
and a vision of the Otherwhere haunts him and becomes a 
guidance. In the purple line of the hills against the blue 

1 Decline and Fall, vol ii., p. 48. Bonn's edition. 
1 Bibber t Lectures, p. 26. 


sky, in the cuttlefish and in the palm tree, he sees a beauty 
and a majesty in which is revealed the Power which is felt 
in his consciousness as over him, and of relations outside of 
this world, of situations that begin where lands and oceans 
end. Homer says, " All men everywhere open wide their 
mouth for the gods, as the fledgling does for food." Before 
the Greek Attic and its cousin the Hindu Sanscrit were 
spoken, when that Aryan language was spoken of which 
Greek and Sanscrit began as dialects, a future life was sung 
in hymns. In the hymns of the Vedas, which Professor 
Max Miiller has unearthed and deciphered for us, the fresh- 
ness of the early dawn was the picture which pictured the 
boundless One, the infinite God. Before the era of Moses, 
in a temple in Egypt sacred to Isis stood the inscription, 
" I am all that was and is and shall be, nor my veil has it 
been withdrawn by mortals." In the 139th Psalm, which 
is a Hebrew lyric of man's structure, the emotion is got 
from the marvel that man is ever in the presence of an 
Invisible Spirit. " Thou knowest my downsitting and 
mine uprising, Thou understandest my thought afar off. 
Whither shall I go from Thy spirit ? or whither shall I flee 
from Thy presence ?" He is overpowered with this occult 
investment, and becomes lyrical, " I will praise Thee, for 
I am fearfully and wonderfully made." It is this historic 
fact and psychologic structure with which Christ meets the 
kindly feeling to make men comfortable in outward circum- 
stances. It is written in an old book, and is the conclusion 
of history and psychology, " Man doth not live by bread 
alone, but by the word of the mouth of God." It will 
not touch his central need to make him more comfortable. 
It may injure that centralness. His work must begin at 
another point. 

In the anatomy of this temptation, in the earliest 
thoughts that occupy the Bedeemer of men, we see laid 
bare the constitution of our being, its regnant forces, and 


the methods of the Divine government over us. To know 
God, to be in response to Him, to answer His will by a 
corresponding conduct, this alone finds the seats and 
centres of as. This is the word of God, the manifestations, 
by which he lives. We touch onr summits when we want 
God. We see the redemption we need when these are the 
summits to which we have to be raised. The religious idea 
is a ruling force; the religious sentiment guides and has 
guided the eventful career of man. To provide a finer 
medium for the visions of this idea, to make more forceful 
this sentiment, is the primal want of this world of ours. 
And here Christ sees the stress of His work must be laid. 

2. The commandment or word which Christ receives and 
obeys is to restrain His benevolence and let the natural law 
of poverty alone and to introduce other laws. The stress 
or sting of the temptation is in the words, "If Thou be the 
Son of God" — as and since Thou art the Son of God. The 
consciousness of power and of a good intention is in the 
higher and more subtle kinds of temptation. Is it neces- 
sary to keep within the old lines, to let misery alone and 
to continue the former history, when other methods are 
at hand and history might proceed on other lines? Is it 
necessary that He should hold in abeyance the power He 
possesses and withhold Himself? Very few men can have 
power and waive its use. He has the power to convert 
stones into bread, to be the King of plenty ; He has the 
power to redeem men from the struggle with want. But 
He and His work are under limitations ; His divinity works 
by law, and His love includes law ; and law restrains the 
freedom of love and divinity. 

The work of Christ is within the old laws and the struc- 
ture of human nature. It is not miraculous. He continues 
nature, and He carries the religions of nature with Him. 
He inserts no new elements into nature ; the supernatural 
is, after all, a prolongation of the lines of the natural. Christ 


is to work on the basis of nature, and the moral revolution 
which He is to effect will proceed on the lines of nature as 
it has been from the beginning. Christ is to work along 
with the struggle for bread, and the Bread Problem to 
remain where it ever was, even though the new worker be 
the Son of God. Man has always lived in God when he 
has followed the higher impulse, and not fallen back upon 
the animal, and Christ has come to give a fine and fresh 
potency to this life in God and to create a new type of it. 
The Christian life is not obtained by a miracle. It is the 
most natural thing for us. It is a higher nature to us ; its 
germs are innate in us. Be true to your constitution, and 
you will develop into a Christian. The Spirit of Christ is 
where truth is ; He leads into all truth. The Christian 
life is the finer life of God in us, which is our natural life. 

There is a certain independence gifted to our freewill, 
but our freewill has to suppress and subordinate it. Mind 
is a miracle in the midst of matter, which is a mere 
mechanism. We are at liberty, and yet we are bounded ; 
and the will finds its freedom in recognising the suppression 
and the limitation. The reason for our limitations is that 
we gain a future and more permanent good by refusing 
the temporary good. From our secular limitations come 
spiritual enlargements. Keep within the routines and 
traditions of your country, and then conventionalisms 
break up and you become original. Christ keeps within 
the rules of humanity, and very soon He does the most 
original work ever done in our world, which was foolish- 
ness to the Greek and an offence to the Jew ; and He has 
created the highest races by the originality of the cruci- 
fixion. Begin with the creeds, and then you will not want 
creeds. You will leave the road of the creeds and roam* 
over the hills and valleys of the Bible. Keep within the 
limitations appointed to you, and then limits dissolve away, 
and the Unlimited will guide you. Time is on the side 

vol. ix. 25 


of every man who surrenders himself to law and limit, 
who prefers future good to immediate advantage, who post- 
pones the showy for the solid, and waits. "If thou be 
so and so, do this ; as thou hast so and so, go there," are 
siren notes, and we must rule even a legitimate power and 
restrain even a benevolent liberty. 

There are no straight lines in nature, except in crystal 
forms. Look at a coast-line, at a mountain-line, at the 
clouds, at the rocks. The lines curve in and out, wind up 
and down. The curve is the line of beauty. Rules take 
us in straight lines, bounded on each side ; and as you keep 
straight the rules go out of sight and you get into the 
curves of love. Law is lost in love ; but there is a stage 
at which love and law are quarrelsome, and there is 
temptation in that stage. Limitation purchases for us the 
illimitable. Love is impatient with law. 

3. The unmended struggle for bread is to be continued 
by the Founder of the new society as a spiritual agency. 
Christ leaves alone the struggle for bread, leaves it just 
where it has always been, and, as always, it will be utilized 
for moral purposes. We are not to be made comfortable 
outwardly; with the sweat of our brow and brain we 
are to earn our living. In this effort, in this medium, 
we shall hear more correct reports of the soul, and learn 
the more intimate decrees of Heaven. Christ refuses to 
mitigate the harsh conditions of being, but He will furnish 
lights by which we shall get more heart for the battle 
appointed to us. To be is a privilege; and we get the 
privilege of being, on the sovereign condition that we work 
out of the lower into the higher. There is a lower and 
there is a higher; and the law of ascension is that we 
crucify the lower; and the crucifixion of Jesus is a new 
leverage for this lift. If the religion of Christ had made us 
more easy than we were before, it would lose half its value. 
It rather reveals a pain deep in the heart of the universe 


by His crucifixion. If a religion were introduced which 
brought comfort to men as one of its great factors, we 
should become religious for the sake of the comfort, and 
we should become rich, comfortable saints, which means a 
pauper population of religious men at best ; but worse, we 
are likely to become a society of hypocrites, becoming 
Christians for the sake of the comfort. The blessing of ease 
is refused in this temptation to the race of men and the 
religion of Jesus. The blessing of rest is to be given ; and 
rest is the equilibrium of struggling forces. Ease is the 
negation of force and the decomposition of structure. 
* The appointment is continued, unmodified, that we begin 
life at the point of nothing, with a bare body, and to keep 
life by labour ; to find the living for life by signing articles 
of industry. Labour may pass a point and become struggle, 
and struggle may pass a point and become agony. Labour, 
struggle, agony, are the lines on which we are moving, and 
in this campaign there will be Sabbath armistices, when we 
will hear the higher word of God and get deeper insights of 
the mystery which encompasses us round. Being is made 
dear to us in both senses of the word. It is dear, and we 
will not part with it, and the price we pay for keeping it is 
dear. The young man who refuses to take the bit in his 
mouth and yoke to labour finds a freedom to waste himself 
and decompose at leisure. America and Australia are new 
continents made by the youth of the overcrowded old con- 
tinents from compulsions of bread. We have to follow 
right loyally the directions which these compulsions impose 
upon us. 

The margin is always the narrowest between bread and 
famine, and one of the early temptations which emerges for 
us all is to chafe with the difficulties, to take it easy or 
overstep the limitations. To hear the rumble of discontent, 
to be irritated with the conditions, to revolt from them ; 
and it makes the sad breakdown of a heavy percentage 


of human souls. Two temptations will emerge : to do as 
little as possible, or to do too much in the haste to be rich. 
Ambition, on the one hand, and indolence, on the other, 
pride or ease, will shape themselves into temptations. 
These temptations manfully overcome by a righteous labour 
will bring a sense of God, a vividness of conscience, and a 
vision of principles. We are potential with good, and the 
struggle to begin right will bring out the best. Life is a 
battle of alternatives ; and the left-hand alternative, met by 
the loyalist that is in us, will summon the finer powers 
into government, and illuminate the fields around us, and 
give us our right hand. The irrigation of human nature is 
got through religious ideas ; and we shall get them as we 
see the plan of God, that man lives by bread from heaven. 
When life is a story of poverty or of mere competence, 
when we prefer labour to a counterfeit comfort, when we 
eat the bread of sorrow according to the will of God, then 
we see that the lines* of this- world are produced to another. 
We discern an essence in duty and drudgery for functions 
elsewhere. The junction of time and timelessness is seen, 
and the heat of the junction felt. The anomaly between 
our proud faculties and penurious surroundings grates on 
us, and the friction, flashes on us the central, commanding, 
immortal structure of our being.. If we had all that we 
want for the body, we should feel that we were spent 
and finished here — and there is nothing more for us. Dis- 
content with the outward discovers the finer contents of 
our being. Herodotus says that the gods envy men their 
happiness, 1 and we now know the reason, that holiness may 
be emphasized as the master-idea of being. Christ leaves 
unmitigated this struggle for bread, leaves the law of 
harvests where it has ever been, and uses the scanty 
food-supply as an instrument for the spiritualities of His 
kingdom. " Labour not for the meat which perisheth " 

1 Book vii. 46. 


has been accented as never before. The discourse on the 
heavenly bread is Christ's exposition of this temptation. 

4. The special element which Christ supplies for re- 
demptive purposes becomes visible. That element is the 
crucifixion. In this temptation the Cross is before Him. 
The bread He has to furnish is His dead body. It is 
divinity and death that are mingled in His great work. 
By divinity alone He can supply the famine of the world. 
He feels this power, and the feeling gives force to the 
temptation, " If Thou be the Son of God, command that 
these stones be made bread." But it is divinity and 'death 
that are the true bread, which are the true need of man. 
This truth, accented by the temptation, is the basis of the 
great sacrament. " Take, eat.; this is My body, broken for 
you. My flesh is meat indeed, and My blood is drink 
indeed." In the foreground revelations of this hour is the 
Cross. Temptations are revelations. 

When our Lord was approaching the realities of the 
crucifixion, and the shadow became a pain, His mind 
reverts to the baptism in which the shadow also was. The 
crucifixion is the fulfilment of it In the baptism, the 
mission of death was first made vivid. " I have a baptism 
to be baptized with, and how am I straitened till it be 
accomplished 1 " The stress of -the crucifixion was felt in 
the visions of the water sacrament, and hence the point 
of the figure and the jprefiguration. The temptations were 
holding Him from the prophetic pain, trying to soften the 
forecast of it by suggesting possible methods which would 
avoid or postpone it. 

" Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and all other things 
shall be added." Christ emphasized this order for Him- 
self and for us, that we are to bfegin at this beginning. We 
are to begin with the soul when we begin this life. When 
God is King of the soul, and Christ is Lord of the heart ; 
when we are living by the best and truest in us ; when we 



have found the primary affections, and oar feet are on the 
original basements of things — then we are in the kingdom 
of God. Every idea of happiness without holiness, every 
thought of success without obedience, every scheme for 
bettering ourselves without bettering our inward nature, is 
a fatuousness. And this is the beginning : " If any man 
will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his 
cross, and follow lie ; for whosoever will save his life shall 
lose it : and whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall 
find it. For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the 
whole world, and lose his own soul? " 

Christ furnishes for us the forces of the crucifixion, and 
the crucifixion is the law of the beginning. We speak in 
science of a magnetic field. Place a magnet on a table, and 
cover the table with iron filings. The filings will arrange 
themselves round the magnet with greater or less intense- 
ness. The nearest will stick to it, the farther will turn 
sharply towards it, and the farthest will feel that there is a 
force near to command them. Within a certain radios they 
will group themselves in relation to the attractions of the 
magnet. The magnetic condition of the soul is got by the 
poles of the crucifixion ; and when that is got the externals 
of life will be under government. Circumstance will he in 
rough or kindly attendance. "All other things shall he 
added." Christ makes bare the basement of us, by His 
crucifixion, when in our name He says, " Man doth not 
live by bread alone." Bread is circumstance after all. 

5. The message to the Church from this vanquished temp- 
tation is, that her radical work is missions, not charities. 
She first builds churches, then schools and hospitals. She 
says no word about literature and science, because these 
are involved in the larger. Her message is religion, not 
civilization ; grace, not culture ; salvation, not charities. 
Civilization comes by getting that which is fairer and 
better than civilization. The Greeks cultivated philosophy : 


ceasing to be philosophers, in the later decay, they became 
great merchants. The Hebrews cultivated righteousness: 
ceasing to be prophets, they ended by becoming great 
financiers. Greek and Hebrew dropped on the lower plat- 
form, through which they had unconsciously passed on 
their way to the higher. Phoenician traders were once the 
hopourable of the earth ; but they began with the lower, 
and perfected themselves in it. They found the lowermost. 
Their mere memory is with us, but they have left not a 
scrap of literature nor an inspiring character for the good 
of the race. The Greeks have bequeathed a philosophy, 
aud the Hebrews the Old Testament. 

The unsafe value we attach to the lower is illuminated 
by this temptation, and is a beacon to us. The substance 
of a man is the Worship in him. The deeps of our man- 
hood are not opened till we receive and obey Divine reve- 
lations. Christ shows us the substance by His death. 
Take a good grasp of the governing law, that the more we 
make of this world the less we get out of it, that the less 
we make of it the more we get out of it. To know God 
as our Father and Christ as our Saviour, to see our home 
elsewhere as a fact, to be good and to find pleasure in right 
doing, to be holy and cultivate the beauty of character, 
this is got from the true bread. When we have found 
this true bread other and lower kinds of bread will be seen 
involved in it, and issue out of it. Charities, parochial 
organizations, school boards, parliamentary franchises, philo- 
sophies, art, will come from enthusiasms born of faith and 
love and worship. 

W. W. Peyton. 





But our immediate interest in the epitaph is the light it 
throws on the legendary biography of Avircius. It shows 
us the foundation in historical fact, and enables us to trace, 
at least in outline, the process by which the legend was 
formed. The memory of the historical Avircius was kept 
alive, not only by tradition, but also by religious ritual on 
the twenty-second of October, the anniversary of his death. 
In the various Mensea, 1 brief notes of different tenor are 
attached to his name : the titles " Equal of the Apostles " 
and " Miracle- worker " occur in some cases ; in others an 
outline of his life is given in prose or metre. In one in- 
stance two obscure iambic lines are given : " Aberkios, 
rendering earth to earth, according to the law of mortals, 
accedes a God by adoption to Him who is God by nature." 
Eeferences which occur on other days to an " Aberkios, 
bishop and martyr," seem to be due to some confusion of 

Bound this nucleus of fact gathered a mass of popular 
legend. The remarkable natural features of the district 
were attributed to the miraculous power of the saint ; he 
became the hero in popular witticisms and in tales that had 
once been told of the pagan deities. But through all this 
accretion the main facts of the period when he lived and his 
wide travels and great influence at home shone forth. The 
writer of the biography, a man possessing a fair amount of 
education, set to work about a.d. 400 to give literary form 
to the legend. The epitaph was still before his eyes, and 

1 The fcfenaa are indeed all later than the biography, but they may be taken 
as an indication of the amount of information preserved by the Church ritual 
about him. 


he copied it, complaining of the faintness of the letters/ 
though at the present day they are clearer than three- 
fourths of the local inscriptions. He expanded and filled 
up the outlines of the popular legend, using his rather 
inaccurate historical knowledge for the purpose. He shows 
himself well acquainted with the geography of Phrygia, but 
absolutely ignorant of that of the world beyond Asia Minor, 
and is thus proved to be a native of the country. 

To illustrate the gradual progress of investigation, it is 
not without importance to describe the way in which the 
evidence bearing on the epitaph of Avircius was accumu- 
lated. In October, 1881, when wandering among the 
villages of a wide and fertile plain in central Phrygia, we 
observed the following inscription on a stone at the door of 
a mosque. The inscribed side was towards the wall, and 
so close to it that it was very hard to read it by sidelong 
glances. The surface is mutilated, and. the following text 
is completed by the aid of the biography. When I pub- 
lished the text in 1882 I was ignorant even of the name of 
that Phrygian saint. 

30. "Citizen of the celect city, I have, while still living, made this 
(tomb), that I may have liere before the eyes of men a place where to lay 
my body ; I, who am named Alexander, son of Antonius, a disciple of the 
spotless Shepherd. No one shall place anothei' in my tomb : and if lie do, 
he shall pay 2,000 gold pieces to the treasury of the Romans, and 1,000 to 
our excellent fatherland Hierapolis. 

"It was written in the year 300 (a.d. 216) during my lifetime. Peace to 
them that pass by and think of me.* 9 

This epitaph alone would furnish indubitable evidence as 
to the epitaph of Avircius, from which it quotes five lines, 
spoiling the metre by substituting for the name Avircius 
''Alexander son of Antonius." It also proves that the 
original is earlier than a.d. 216. These inferences were 
drawn by Di Eossi and Duchesne immediately on the pub- 

1 Hence are to be explained perhaps some variations such as *«/>£ for 
<pav€pus in line 2. 



lication of the epitaph of Alexander. In Jane, 1883, 1 again 
found time to visit the valley, accompanied by an American 
friend, Mr. Sterrett ; and again in October, 1883, 1 made 
another visit alone to clear up some farther difficulties. The 
result was the complete proof that the valley bore in ancient 
time the name Pentapolis, 1 from the five cities which it 
contained, Eucarpia, Hierapolis or Hieropolis, Otrous, 
Brouzos, and Stectorion, and the discovery of part of the 
actual tombstone of the saint, which has since been brought 
home to this country as a precious historical document. 

Literature has not utterly lost trace of the Phrygian saint. 
From the tract against Montanism, written by a presbyter 
of the Pentapolis, and addressed to the saint, in the year 
192, we learn that his name was Avircius Marcellus, and 
we gather an idea of the respect in which he was held, as 
well as of the position he took up on the great ecclesiastical 
question of the day. Even the form of the name is impor- 
tant. The later form Aberkios produces a false impression 
about it. Every element of Avircius is Italic, and we are not 
surprised to find Avircius and Avircia occurring several times 
in the inscriptions of Borne and of Gaul. 2 On the other 
hand, it has none of the Anatolian character about it, and 
the few examples of it that are known in Asia Minor are 
due solely to the influence and fame of the saint. Now 
Boman names are, it is true, not very rare in Phrygia ; but 
the great majority are names of emperors; and of the 
remainder some few are due perhaps to the popularity of 
provincial governors, one or two such as Gaius and Quintus 
are taken as typical Boman names (if they do not really 
belong to the imperial class), and the others come from 
Italian settlers in the great cities. Such a distinctively 
Italian name as Avircius Marcellus, belonging to a Phrygian 

1 This name is preserved to us only in one authority ; viz. the signature of 
a bishop at the Council of Chalcedon. 

5 Corpus Inter. Lat., vi. 12,923-5 (Avircius), xii. 1,052 (Avercius). 


born about 120-130 a.d., appears to any one that studies 
the character of Phrygian names to be explicable only on 
the supposition that the bearer belongs to an Italian family 
settled in Phrygia. The noble name Marcellus might be 
adopted in a purely Phrygian family; but not such a plebeian 
and almost unknown name as Avircius. This Phrygian 
saint then is an instance of the return influence exerted 
by the West on the East ; and may be set against the more 
usual influence of the East upon the West. 

The name Avircius lasted in central Phrygian nomen- 
clature. The Bishop of Hierapolis who was present at the 
Council of Chalcedon in 451 a.d. signs himself Aberkios 
(with the later Greek spelling), a clear proof that the saint 
was still remembered in the district ; and according to the 
interpretation given above, the biography shows that he 
was remembered about 400. Inscriptions support the same 
conclusion. The first which I have to quote belongs to 
Prymne8Sos, a city and bishopric distant about twenty-seven 
miles by a very circuitous road from Hierapolis. 

31. "Aurelius Dorotheos, son of Abirkios, constructed the heroon for 
himself and for my mother Marcellina, and for my own children and for 
my cousins. Fare ye well who pass by." 

Above the inscription are the Christian symbols AfSl. 

In this inscription the general form, the pagan word 
heroon, and still more the salutation at the end are char- 
acteristic of the third century, while the symbols might 
incline us rather to a fourth century date. The monument 
may probably be dated about or soon after 300. Abirkios 
was married to Marcellina ; l the conjecture suggests itself 
that Marcellina belongs to the family of Avircius Marcellus, 
and that the cousins who are included in this almost unique 
fashion belonged to the same family. 

I have already alluded to the possibility that Marcella, 

1 Bishop Lightfoot, who quotes this text in his Ignatius and Polycarp, i., 
p. 485, by a slip speaks of Marcellina as mother, instead of wife, of Abirkios. 


the " highly respected and beloved " wife of Aurelius Euty- 
ches Helixj senator of Eumeneia, may have belonged to the 
same family. 1 

The next inscription which I have to quote belongs also 
to Prymnessos. As it mentions a deacon, it must be later 
than the time of Constantine ; but the style of art in the 
relief that accompanies the inscription seems to be not later 
than the fourth century, so that the date of the monument 
is about 320-400 a.d. 

C2. " Abirkloft, son of Porphyrios, deacon, constructed the memorion to 
himself and my wife Tlieivprepia and the children.** 

The word memorion in the sense of tomb and the form 
Sid/cav for Suifcovo? are both marks of lateness, so that a 
date near 400 may be considered probable. A later date 
seems to me unlikely on account of the style of art in 
the relief, which is carved beneath the inscription. In the 
centre is a standing figure, slightly turned to the right, 
dressed in a mantle, and holding the right hand in front of 
the breast in the attitude of warning or admonition, thumb 
and first two fingers extended, and third and fourth fingers 
closed. 3 The figure is rather awkwardly shortened. The 
face, seen in profile, is youthful, beardless, and of a con- 
ventional Greek type. Bight and left are busts, on a rather 
larger scale, both shown in profile. That on the right is 
female, in remarkably good style, obviously a portrait of a 
matron of middle age and decided beauty, with slight indi- 
cation of a double chin. The bust on the left is made 
in the same conventional Greek style as the head of the 
central figure. The two faces look towards the central 
figure. The intention of the artist seems to be to show the 
Saviour admonishing Abirkios and Theuprepia. On early 
Italian Christian sarcophagi the Saviour is represented as 

1 The Expositor, Dec, 1888, p. 422 : the epitaph contains a veiled remini- 
scence of a phrase in the opening line of Avircius's epitaph. 
3 The same position of the hand which is employed in benediction. 


a young and beardless man very similarly to this relief. 
This monument is, I think, the only early representation 
of its kind left us by the Eastern Church. 

In one of .the letters of Basil of CaBsareia, a person named 
Abourgios i3 mentioned. It is not improbable that this is 
a Cappadocian corruption of the same name, in which case 
we have a proof that the fame of the Phrygian saint ex- 
tended far to the east. I have observed no other example 
of the name, but the three instances from the fourth 
century, and one from the fifth, of such a peculiar name, 
show the persistence of his fame at the very time when I 
have argued that his biography was written. 

One point more remains. Is it possible to recover a 
clearer idea of the position and influence of this Phrygian, 
who, after having been forgotten for many centuries, has 
recently risen to fresh reputation ? If the cause of which 
he was the champion had been thoroughly popular in 
Phrygia, it is probable that his name would have occurred 
more frequently, and his fame would have remained in the 
popular memory much longer. But it has been stated 
already (The Expositob, Feb., p. 147) that the orthodox 
party was undoubtedly the weaker side in the Phrygian 
Church, being kept in power by the pressure from the 
Church in general, and at a later time by the power of the 
State. Thus it has happened that the fame of Avircius has 
not been proportionate to the glowing account given in his 
biography. He was the champion of a minority in Phrygia, 
and while "they who thought with him" cherished his 
name and exaggerated his actions, the world, which is rarely 
deceived by the passionate admiration of a minority, prac- 
tically forgot him. But, while we must reduce his per- 
sonality to its true dimensions, which fall far short of the 
pretensions of his biographer, he remains none the less a 
most interesting character, and his epitaph a document 
of real importance. 



We have seen the probability that Avircius belonged to 
a foreign family from the West settled in Pbrygia. The 
district where he lived is in the basin of the Maeander, the 
part of Phrygia which was most open to external influence 
and most closely connected with the rest of the world. His 
wide travels farther brought home to his mind the power 
and extent of the Church, and his epitaph shows what an 
impression was made on him by the fact that everywhere 
he found the Christians united in the same belief and 
practice with himself. His whole experience conspired to 
make him the champion of the Church Catholic against the 
individualizing tendency of Montanism. A less bigoted 
and more tolerant spirit might perhaps have avoided the 
dissension that occurred, as was the case at a later date in 
Cappadocia, 1 and might have retained within the Church 
the national tone and fervour of the Montanists. 

Montanus, on the other hand, belonged by birth to north- 
western Phrygia. He was a convert, first heard of at a 
village Ardabau, on the frontier between Mysia and Phrygia, 
a description which points to the same neighbourhood 
where we have found clear traces of the north-western 
Phrygian Church. Does Montanus represent the tone of 
that Church ; and does the beginning of the Montanist con- 
troversy correspond to the time when the christianizing 
influence spreading from the north-west met that which 
was penetrating from the south-west ? If we can see any 
reason to answer this question affirmatively, our investiga- 
tion will have gradually led us to something like a distinct 
view of the general character of that north-western Phry- 
gian Church which was detected and described in the first 
of these papers. The following arguments show that the 
answer in all probability must be affirmative. 

1 I hope to describe the episode at some later time : it has remained 
practically unnoticed by any modern writer, as topographical accuracy is 
necessary for the understanding of the few recorded details. 


The Church of south-western and central Phrygia, con- 
nected closely with Laodiceia and the Lycus valley, and 
originally founded therefrom, is naturally more catholic 
and less Phrygian in tone ; whereas everything that we 
can learn of northern Phrygia shows it to have been the 
special stronghold of heresy and of the specially Phrygian 
type of religion. In the fourth century, Cotiaion was the 
chief centre of Novatianism in Phrygia : now Novatianism 
revives one of the tenets of Montanism, 

" — that unpitying Phrygian sect which cried, 
Him can no fount of fresh forgiveness lave, 
Who sins, once washed by the baptismal wave." 

Under the Arian Valens and the tolerant Yalentinian 
Phrygian heresy flourished free, but in the beginning of 
the following century, under Theodosius II. and his sister 
Pulcheria, a determined effort seems to have been made to 
force Cotiaion into orthodoxy. Four bishops in succession 
were murdered by the people, and we may gather that they 
were bishops of the orthodox faith, imposed by the party in 
power on an unwilling people, and that the resistance of 
the latter was carried to bloodshed. At last Cyrus, a man 
trained in civil government and administration, was made 
a priest and sent to rule the Church of Cotiaion ; and by a 
dexterous address he gained a footing in the city. Again 
at Pazos, near the source of the Sangarius, a Novatian 
synod was held ; and Amorion is always famous as a 
heretical centre. Now I have already shown that Cotiaion 
was the centre during the third century of the north 
Phrygian style of Christianity, and that in later time it 
preserved its separation from the rest of Phrygia as 
metropolis of the surrounding district. The district was 
remote from intercourse with external civilization, and 
infinitely less exposed to influence from contact with the 
Church in general than the basin of the Maaander. It is 
by later ecclesiastical writers spoken of sometimes with 


contempt for its ignorance, sometimes with hatred for its 
heresy. Attempts to force it into orthodoxy result even in 
bloodshed. The conclusion seems necessary that the same 
characteristic and exclusive Phrygian tone characterized it 
from the beginning, and that Montanus, born in the midst 
of it, represents its tendencies in conflict with the Catho- 
licism of the south Phrygian Church. 

This investigation has given a very different view of the 
position and action of Avircius from the biography. In the 
latter he is the apostle of Christianity in a pagan land ; he 
is adored by his people, and no hint is dropped of dissension 
or controversy among them. The epitaph, whose real 
meaning has been obscured to modern scholars by the 
tone of the biography, has now been interpreted to show 
Avircius, not as the missionary of a new religion, but as 
the leader of a party in a Church already well established, 
and now divided against itself. His party was victorious, 
after a keen and bitter contest, in his own neighbourhood, 
but in the greater part of Phrygia the opposite sect was 
far stronger. 1 The Phrygian heretical tendency, vouched 
for by the hatred of the orthodox historians in later times, 
has now been traced back, through the inscriptions of the 
third century (Nos. 1 to 12), to its origin in an isolated 
current of christianizing influence ; and has been shown to 
be a vigorous form of religion, redolent of the soil where it 
was rooted, spreading unchecked towards the south till it 
met the Catholic Church. The first passages in the long 
struggle between nationalism and universalism in Phrygia 
are connected with the respective leaders, Montanus and 
Avircius. To the fact that controversy divided those who 
ought to have felt that they were really of one mind must 
be attributed the extirpation of Christianity in Phrygia. 

W. M. Ramsay. 

1 This is exactly the tone of the account given by Eusebias. 




The evangelist St. Luke, in the preface to bis gospel, has 
seen fit to lay before us his reasons for publishing a new 
record of the Lord Jesus' life. There were already many 
iirjyrjae^ of doubtful authority, but he would now so write 
that his friend Theophilus might be furnished with facts 
upon which he could implicitly rely, and hence arrive at a 
fuller assurance regarding those \6yoc l in which he had been 
systematically instructed. 

2. Again, in his Book of the Acts of the Apostles, when 
the same evangelist introduces Apollos to the notice of his 
readers, he describes him as " mighty in the Scriptures," 
and as one who had been " systematically instructed " in 
" the way " of the Lord. 2 

8. Once more, we read that when Sergius Paulus, the 
proconsul at Cyprus, was impressed by the Apostles' preach- 
ing, and gave in his adherence to the truths proclaimed, he 
believed, startled by the BtSaxv of the Lord. 8 

4. Lastly, when Elymas strove to hinder the work begun, 
and to weaken the impression that had been made, we are 
told "he sought to turn away the procurator from the 
faith " (awb -H)? Tr/ore©?) ; and when in the sixth chapter 
we hear of a great multitude of priests being convinced, it 
is said of them virrjKovov rfj irlarec. 

1 tva iiriyvfc rept &v iran/x^ 1 ?* My*** fV A<r0<£\«ai\ 

J ovrot ty KaTtixy/Aivos r^v 68bv rod Kvpiov (Acts xviii. 25). Cf. 1 Cor. iv. 17. 

8 iKT\ri<r(r6fi€vot eVl rff Sidaxv rod Kvpiov (Acta xiii. 12). 

VOL. IX. m 26 


A carefal comparison of the passages referred to, with 
many others that will come under review in the following 
pages, forces upon us the conviction that the four terms 
here employed, 6 Xayo?, f\ StSayr), jJ 086?, and f\ ttuttls, all 
refer substantially to the same thing. Viewed with reference 
to the speaker who by word of mouth rendered an account 
of what was to be believed, it was 6 X070?; viewed with 
reference to the teacher who instructed, or the neophyte 
who received instruction, it was 17 SiBaxn I while as it was a 
summary of those things which were most surely believed, 
it was ri irUrn% ; and as the line along which all dogmatic 
exposition was to travel, it was 17 6$6?. 

It would happen in the natural course, that as one term 
became (so to speak) the favourite, this term would tend 
to thrust the others out of use ; and accordingly it appears 
that one of these terms, 17 086s, did actually cease to be 
employed very early ; but there is abundant evidence of the 
fact, that, while the organization of the infant Church was 
still imperfect, these four terms were used as practically 

Thus the SiSaxv rov Kvpiov of the 12th verse of Acts xiii. 
is plainly the X070? rov Kvpiov of the 48th and 49th verses, 
and as plainly the 0809 rov Kvpiov of Acts xviii. 25, and the 
mUrrw rov Kvpiov of St. James ii. 1. 

Again the 6809 aayrrjpla? of Acts xvi. 17 is clearly the 
\0709 crayrrjpla? of Acts xiii. 26, and probably the koivtj 
a&rnpla of St. Jude (Jude 3), while the 686?, which St. Paul 
declares he once persecuted, and of which (Acts xix. 9) we 
hear certain men spake evil before the people, can be no 
other than the 7ri'<m? in which Paul and Barnabas besought 
the men of Pisidia to abide, 1 in which the Churches were 
confirmed as they increased in number daily, 2 the irlan? 
which St. Paul when he had finished his course glories in 

1 TapajcakodvTci efifiivetp rjj rUrrei (Acts xiv. 22). 

3 al fUv ofr UfcXTjalcu eorepeoQvro rrj wiarei, k.t.X. (Acts xvi 5). 


having kept, 1 and that which in its later and more expanded 
form he refers to again and again under the designations of 
-q tcakr) Trapa6rjK7] i 6 maris X070?, i\ vyiaivovaa SiBaatcakia, 
and other names, with which we shall attempt in the sequel 
to deal in fuller detail. 

That these four terms refer to a Formulated Summary of 
Primitive Christian Doctrine is the first position which this 
article attempts to support. 

Such a summary would of course serve more than a 
single purpose. To the preacher of the Eedeemer's truth 
it was a guide and safeguard, keeping him from license in 
speculation and rashness in assertion. To the anxious 
inquirer, desirous to enter the Church, it was a simple 
elementary instruction in the primary essentials of the 
Christian faith. To the newly baptized believer it was a 
blessed memento of the solemn profession he had made at 
the laver of regeneration, when he had " passed from death 
unto life, and from the power of Satan unto God." 

Hence it is only what we should expect if the writers of 
the several epistles appeal to and allude to this summary 
of Christian truth as to a palladium which each Christian 
would naturally hold very dear. Eenegades who had left 
the Church under the pressure of persecution are called 
aSotcifiot, 7r€pl ri)v iricTiv (2 Tim. iii. 8), or are said apvovadcu 
tt)v Trlarw* Timothy is exhorted ay<ov%ov rbv tca\bv ay&va 
rfj? 7r&rr€a>? (1 Tim. vi. 12 ; 2 Tim. iv. 7), and in the Apoca- 
lypse the ay col are described as those oi r^povvres ra$ eWoXa? 
rov Geov teal ttjv irurrw 'LycroS (Apoc. xiv. 12). 

That something like a dogmatic Confession of Faith was 
drawn up very soon after the ascension of our Lord appears 
from the nature of the case more than probable. It is 

1 -rip rUrnv reHjpriKa (2 Tim. iv. 7). 

8 . . . t))p rla-Tiv ijprrrrat ical ttrrw dirlarov xefpwp (1 Tim. v. 8). Compare 
Apoc. ii. 13, q6k dprJjaia r^p irlariv fiov. 



scarcely conceivable that the new society, by no means 
blind to the immense destiny which was before it, and the 
mighty work it was to carry out, should have remained long 
without some organized machinery for proselytizing, and 
some discipline for the regulation of its inner life and the 
display of its necessary activity. 

Accordingly, no sooner do we read that three thousand 
were added to the Church in a single day, than we are 
assured that these same new converts continued stead- 
fastly attending to the doctrines of the Apostles, and to the 
common contribution, and to the breaking of bread, and 
to the prayera. 1 The force of the article in these passages 
can by no means be passed over. In every single instance 
the term employed is a technical term, which subsequently 
attained an important significance, and if " the breaking of 
bread " must be taken to refer to a religious rite, and the 
tcowwvla must as certainly be assumed to point to a general 
contribution to a common fund — such as Macedonia and 
Achaia afterwards made for the relief of the poor saints at 
Jerusalem (Acts xv. 26), which the Hebrew Christians were 
specially admonished not to neglect (Heb. xiii. 16), and 
which the Corinthians are commended for having carried 
out with simple liberality (2 Cor. ix. 13) — not less certainly 
must the SiSaxv be understood to refer to an authoritative 
and dogmatic exposition of the fundamental verities of the 
Christian faith ; while by the wpoaevxal are meant simple 
forms of prayer, which would be among the very first 
necessities of the multitudes whose awakened consciences 
and whose excited feelings would require that the outpour- 
ings of their emotions should be guided, instructed, and 
controlled, and the worshipper preserved from spasmodical 
utterances apt to run riot into wildness and extravagance. 

Nor are allusions to such forms of prayer wanting. Wheih- 

1 Acts it 42 : faav ft rpwricaprcpoGrrcs r% to&axi tw farwrrtiktop ical tJ Koivtawlq., 
t$ k\dff€t rod Aprov kclI rait xpoaevxtus. Cf . Ephesians vi. 18. 


the continued growth of the Church had brought with it 
an increase in the number of those distracting engagements 
which constitute the most serious interruptions to the work 
of an evangelist, then it was seen that the governing body 
of the Church needed to be relieved in some way from 
the immense pressure of mere business which threatened 
to embarrass and overwhelm the apostolic college. The 
diaconate was accordingly instituted. To the deacons was 
committed the administration of the teoipcovia, " but," said 
the Twelve, " we will give our attention to the prayers and 
to the ministry of the \6yo?" x 

But in truth nothing is more remarkable in the history of 
the Church than the promptness with which the Apostles 
set themselves to legislate for special occasions, and the 
wisdom they exhibit in dealing with difficulties as they 
arise. I have already alluded to the institution of the 
order of deacons ; no less striking is the ordaining of Bar- 
nabas and Saul (Acts xiii.) for the extraordinary mission 
at Antioch ; the provision for allaying the prejudice against 
St. Paul on his last recorded return to Jerusalem; and, 
above all, the publication of the hoy para on the question of 
admitting Gentiles into the fold of Christ. 

On this occasion (Acts xv. 6 and seq.) we find that the 
apostolic college, seeing the gravity of the point at issue, 
and that a crisis in the history of the Church had come, 
hesitated to put forth any canons on their own authority 
solely, but calling a council of the whole Church at Jeru- 
salem, they solemnly deliberated upon the course to be 
adopted, and only after long discussion and devout inquiry 
did they finally agree upon the important point that was 
raised. But the Soypara once having been passed, no time 
was lost in giving them publicity (Acts xv. 22). A formal 
copy of the resolution passed at the meeting of the council 

i illuTs & rj} rporevxi kqX rj Sicucoplq, rod \6yov irpwncapTepfyTOfACP (Acts vi. 4). 
Compare here the use of StoKOvta (Horn. xii. 7). 




was committed to Paul, Barnabas, and Silas, and these 
distinguished servants of the Church were at once sent forth 
to promulgate the canon. In this case there can be no 
doubt that we have the actual words of the letter with 
which the commissioners were furnished. We are expressly 
told that the decree was disseminated as widely as possible, 
and that it was imposed upon the several Churches as an 
ordinance binding upon all who were baptized in the name 
of Christ. It is moreover observable that these ordinances 
were not promulgated once, and once only, and that when 
the special occasion had passed they were forgotten; on 
the contrary, the 86yfiara of the council at Jerusalem were 
evidently imposed as fundamental conditions of union upon 
every new Christian community which was afterwards 
admitted into Church membership, and more than once we 
meet with allusions to these decrees in epistles to Churches 
which were not founded for some years after the council was 
held. Thus it can scarcely be doubted that the irapcuyyeXiai 
which St. Paul speaks of having given to the Thessalonians 
(1 Thess. iv. 2), regarding fornication, refer to these early 
SoyfiaTa, for so only can we explain the full force of his 
language, where he says that they had been given 8ut rov 
Kvpiov Irjaovy i.e. by the instrumentality of the Lord Jesus ; 
and a large portion of the first epistle to the Corinthian 
Church appears actually taken up with explaining and 
enforcing those very decrees on the subject of fornication 
and things offered to idols, as against those who assumed 
that the Soyftara were only meant for such as were " babes 
in Christ," but no longer binding upon advanced Christians 
who had risen to the apprehension of an esoteric yv&cw. 

How then can it be conceived that any time should have 
been lost in drawing up a confession of faith for the 
guidance of the teacher and the support of the taught? 
especially when it is remembered that all this wonderful 
progress — all this Divine awakening of men's minds, and 


this eager acceptance of Christ — was going on for years 
before the earliest of our gospels was composed, nay, 
probably before two of our evangelists were converted to 
the faith at all. For it must never be forgotten that the 
growth of the Church was not due to the gospels, but that 
the gospels sprang into being from the needs of the Church. 
Hence it appears not so very improbable that the ancient 
tradition of the Apostles' Creed being actually composed by 
the Twelve may have some basis of truth to repose on. I 
have already pointed out that the expression StSaxh ™v 
Kvpiov is to be regarded as the equivalent of the oSo? rod 
Kvptov : but in the second chapter of the Acts, ver. 42, we 
find this term in another form ; it is there called hihaxh t&v 
d7ro<rroX(»v, # as though the very first work which the Apostles 
had set themselves to labour at (possibly in that awful time 
of suspense and anxious expectation which preceded the 
day of Pentecost) had been the drawing up of some short 
summary of doctrine in conformity with which all the 
teaching of the future should be carried on. And one very 
striking passage in the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, 
which it appears to me commentators so far have misunder- 
stood, affords a remarkable confirmation of this view. In 
the eleventh chapter of the epistle and the sixth verse, 
St. Paul is contrasting his own claims to be listened to with 
those put forth by the false teachers at Corinth. 1 "For," 
says he, " I reckon myself in no respect to have fallen 
short of the chiefest Apostles " ; for although an unofficial 
person in regard to the X0705, 1 am not so in regard of the 
yv&o-i? : i.e. in the drawing up of the first elementary 
summary of Christian doctrine I took no part, for I was 
no Apostle then, yet in the fuller and more developed ex- 

1 Xoylfafuu y&p fxi)tev vuTcpTjK&cu, tw intkp )Jav &vo<rr6Xw. tl ft Kcd ttnlrrr)i ry 
X6747, dXX' oi> Ty yvtbaci' dXX' iv xajrrl (parep&carres iv xouruf els if fids. Taking thifl 
view of the passage, it appears to me that the reading (pavepuxrcuncs becomes the 
only intelligible one ; the diplomatic evidence in its favour is overwhelming. 


position of the faith — the yv&<rt<; — I did take my part, and 
my apostleship was acknowledged. 

This is that X0709 which he subsequently commands 
Timothy to proclaim (2 Tim. iv. 2) — xypvlfov rbv \6yov — 
and to persist in with all patience in teaching, " because," 
he adds, " the time will come when people will not endure 
the wholesome doctrine, but will choose teachers according 
to their own fancies." This is that X070? a/cof)s which the 
Thessalonians (1 Thess. ii. 13) are said to have received not 
as a human, but as a Divine X0709, as in truth it was. This 
is that \6yo? rov Oeov which the Corinthians (1 Cor. xiv. 36) 
are reminded did not go out from them, but came to them. 
This is that X0705 row Kvpiov of which, in writing to the 
Thessalonians, the Apostle prays that it may. have free 
course and be glorified. Lastly, it is that totto? StSa^? to 
which at their baptism the Roman Christians were handed 
over, and by virtue of the reception of which they were 
freed from the bondage of sin and bound by a new bond to 
righteousness (Rom. vi. 17). 

But this passage in the Epistle to the Corinthians, which 
puts in such marked contrast the \6709 (or primary and 
elementary summary of the faith) and the yv&o-i? (or esoteric 
doctrine to which probably the Christian was introduced 
only after his baptism), brings us to a further examination 
of those passages where the yv&av^ is alluded to. 

It must be conceded that, as a technical term, 17 yv&o-t? 
appears much more frequently in the epistles to the 
Corinthians than anywhere else in the New Testament; 
but, though this might suggest the hypothesis that the 
origin of the term is to be traced to the Corinthian Church 
in the first instance, we do meet with it in its technical 
sense in other apostolic writings. 

In the epistles to the Corinthians however the passage 
referred to above by no means stands alone. A plain 
allusion to this distinction between the irUrm and the 


yv&ai? is to be met with in the thirteenth chapter of the 
first epistle, where the commentators, as far as my 
observation goes, have failed to point out the right explana- 
tion of the acknowledged difficulty. The second verse 
stands thus: teal ihv l^o> irpo<f>ryreCav (observe, no definite 
article) teal elS& ra fivorrfpia irdvra teal iraaav rijv yv&aiv, 
/cal idv e%a iraaav rrjv irlanv &are oprj pedurraveiv, aydirrjv 
hk (again no definite article) fit} e%a>, ovOev el/u. The passage 
should, I believe, be thus translated : " And if I have a 
gift of prophecy, and know all the mysteries and the whole 
yv&cv; ; and if I hold the whole irian? to such an extent 
as to remove mountains, yet have not love, I am nothing.' ' 
The elhivai ra fivarrfpta is illustrated by another passage in 
the eighth chapter, which will be discussed hereafter ; but 
the distinction between rrjv iriariv and ryv yv&aiv appears 

In the first chapter of this epistle a no less evident 
and significant allusion is to be found. At the fifth verse 
the Apostle gives thanks to God on iv rravrl iTrXovrlo-Orjre 
iv avr<2, iv iravrl Xoytp teal irdarj yvaxrei, tcaOcbs to fiaprvpiov 
rod Xpicrrov iftePaubOri iv vfilv; i.e. Because ye were en- 
riched by Him 1 in every way, to wit, iv iravrl \6y<p /cal 
irdo-y yvwaec. That these words are extremely difficult of 
translation is certain; yet I feel no doubt that the true 
key to the meaning of the expression is to be sought in 
that marked distinction between the two terms which has 
been pointed out before. 3 

1 I regard the first iv tcvtI as equivalent to an adverb of manner ; the second 
rarrl is in close concord with \6y<p, and only affected by the preposition in so 
far as it agrees with its noun ; iv a&rf is here instrumental, as in Bom. v. 9, 10, 
and, as I believe, much more frequently in St. Paul than is usually supposed. 
See Ellicott on Eph. ii. 13. 

Cf. Eur. Ion. 1071 : oi> ydp . . . flwera iror' dfi/idrwv iv <paevvaU dpixoir* Av 
afryaft, /c.r.X. ; i.e. she will never, if she lives, endure with her bright eyes, etc., 

2 It is quite possible that allusion is made to the existence of distinctive 
\6yot or yvthreu among the conflicting Church parties at Corinth. 


A similar allusion to this esoteric yvwrv; is observable in 
the second chapter of the Epistle to the Romans. St. Paul 
is there insisting that Jew and Gentile are equally liable 
to the righteous judgment of God. He puts the case thus 
(Bom. ii. 17) : " But you call yourself a Jew, and rest upon 
the law, and boast yourself in God, and know His will, and 
are examining points of difference, having had your cate- 
chising out of the law, and believe yourself to be a leader of 
the blind, a light to those in darkness, an instructor of the 
simple, a teacher of babes, having your form of the yvwri? 
and of the truth in the law. . . " l Whatever else the 
word yv&ai? may mean, it certainly is not adequately 
represented by the English word " knowledge." Here, as 
elsewhere, the significance of the definite article can by 
no means be passed over ; and if the akrfOela here be the 
X0709 T775 aXqdeia*: of the Second Epistle to Timothy and 
elsewhere, the maro? X0705, the X0709 o-toTrjpta?, called in 
the Acts (ii. 42) the StBaxh r&v airoaroXoov, then the yvwris 
here, as in the former passage to which attention has 
been drawn, can be no other than the fuller and more 
expanded summary of the faith which received this technical 

One more passage must be noticed in which the same 
allusion is to be found. I refer to the fervent and sublime 
prayer for the Ephesian converts. Here again the signifi- 
cance of the definite article is to be insisted on, and the 

1 B/ 8e viz 'lov&cuos iworofi&fti koX ixavaTa&o vdfup, koI tcavxciffai $p 0c£, *<d 
ytywbffKtis rb 6£Kijpa, kclI doKifx&fcis rd dta^povra, Kanfxodfievos ix rod p6/aou 
. . . Anything like a discussion of the syntactical difficulties of this passage 
would be beyond my province here ; but I feel no doubt, (1) that the verbs 
iirovofjuift), Iroyararfp, and /rowxeurai are all to be taken as middle verbs; 
(2) that 8oKii*dfas is to be taken in the sense of " testing " or " examining " (see 
Bp. Ellioott on Eph. v. 10) ; (8) that ra Bia<f>4poPTa, whatever else it may mean 
(and how widely different the meanings given to it have been may be Been in 
Ellioott, Phil. i. 10), cannot here mean " things which transcend," even though 
so profound a scholar as Bishop Lightfoot has so rendered the phrase in the 
parallel passage. 


distinction between irians and yvSxris to be carefully 
observed; and here too, I believe, as elsewhere, that the 
key to the obscurity of the eighteenth verse is to be found 
in looking upon it as containing allusions to the mystical 
phraseology of the theosophic formula with which the half- 
instructed converts of Ephesus (as of Corinth, CoIosssb, and 
elaewhere) would be acquainted, and from which deliverance 
was to be sought by giving greater prominence to the 
ethical element in Christianity. The Apostle thus begins : 
" . . . I bow my knees to the Father, . . . that 
He may grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to 
receive strength with power by means of His Spirit into 
the inner man ; so as for Christ to take up His abode in 
your hearts, by means of the faith — being rooted in love as 
ye are, and having had your foundation laid — in order that 
ye may be thoroughly able to comprehend with all the 
saints what is [the true significance of] the breadth, and 
length, and depth, and height, and [be able] to know 
Christ's love, which transcends the yv&<ri<;, in order that 
[as the final result] ye may be filled to all the fulness of 
God." 1 A beginning might be made when the ttUtti? was 

1 . . . K&fnrrta ra ybvard fiov rpbi rbv Ilarlpa, . . . tva Stp vfuv /card rb 
wXoOrot rrjt dbZys airrov Swdfxet KpaTatuOijvcu Bid rov xvcti/iaTos aurov els rbv foot 
&v6purrov, KaroacTjaai rbv Xpurrbv bid rijs irlarcws iv reus Kopblais vfiwv, iv dydifg 
ififrtfwfACvoi Kad redefieXiufxtvoi, tva i^urxfitnfn xaraAa/Sla-fat <ri>v rraaiv rols dylois rl 
rb wXdros kclI fiiJKOS xal fl^oj koX fidOos, yvQval re r^v vweppdWovaav rijs yv&ffcui 
dydTTjv rod Xpurrov, tva irXqpwOiJTe els ray rb irX^pufia rov Qcov (Eph. iii. 14-19). 
With regard to the grammar of this passage, it will be sufficient to note — 
(1) that Kparauadipai 8ia rod vvctiparos and KaroiKijecu rbv Xpiarbv did rijs vlcreus 
must necessarily be taken as expressing instrumentality: the irvevpa is the 
instrument in one case, the rltrns in the other ; (2) that Karounjcai is consecutive 
upon KparalwBijirai ; (3) that tva i^wx^re expresses the primary purpose, or 
result that the prayer has in view ; (4) that Iva TrXqpwBrjre marks the ultimate 
purpose, KCLTaKapfoOai indicates intellectual apprehension, yvGvai experimental 

What St. Paul prays for is, that the Ephesians may receive Christ into their 
" heart of hearts " ; they had accepted " the faith," and the beginnings 
of a sanctifying emotion had become manifest, but growth in Christian 
experience was extremely desirable, and this he prays they may attain. 
Why that growth was so desirable he explains : 


accepted, when the neophyte put on Christ, and through 
the yv&ai? he might make a step in advance ; hut real 
progress was first made when Christ was accepted with 
the heart, and when the mere intellectual yvixris was 
supplemented hy love — the soil in which the Christian 
could alone hope to grow and bring forth fruit to the 

But as in the case of what I have called the primary or 
elementary summary of Christian doctrine, we find that in 
the as yet unsettled condition of Church government that 
summary is called by different names, — sometimes it is 6809, 
sometimes \0709, sometimes Trims, — so is it probable that 
this esoteric yv&at,? was designated by other equivalent 
terms. We need not go beyond the Epistle to the 
Ephesians itself to be convinced that the term fivarqpiov 
was used as an equivalent of the other term yv&ats : l while 
from 1 Corinthians xv. 51, it would almost seem that any 
advanced statement was called a pvo-Tqpiov, any truth, i.e., 
for which the babe in Christ might not be prepared, though 
it was meet and right that the more advanced Christian 
should be instructed in it. Thus in writing on the subject 
of the resurrection of the body, St. Paul draws attention 
to what he is about to say on the subject by calling it 
fiv<TTi]pu>v;* in the First Epistle to Timothy iii. 9, he 
orders that the deacons must be those exovra? to fivarypiov 
Ttfc Trlarem ; a few verses later he speaks of to fiuar^piov 
•H79 evaefiela? : and taking these passages in connexion with 

(1) Because it would bring profounder insight into the infinite depths of the 
Divine mysteries, with which, if the yyuxreis professed to deal, they would but 
deal, at best, inadequately. 

(2) Because it would bring more intimate personal union with Christ on the 
emotional side, with which the yrwreis did not even pretend to deal. 

(8) Because the final grand result would be that the convert would attain, at 
least in idea, to the fulness of the Divine perfection. 

1 Eph. iii. 4. I cannot accept Meyer's view of this expression, adopted by 
Alford and Bishop Ellioott. See infra. 

2 Hod iw<rrtjpcw vfiuy \4yu (1 Cor. xv. 51^. 


others in the apostolic writings, nor losing sight of the fact 
that the expression rh pvarypta rip PaaCkela? is more than 
once used by our Lord — in a sense which certainly supports 
the view advocated — bearing in mind too that the use of 
the term in the Apocalypse can bear this interpretation only 
— I am irresistibly led to the conclusion that the term 
nwrripiov is in many passages of St. Paul a technical term 
(if the expression may be allowed), the equivalent of what is 
elsewhere called ^v&a^ ; and that both refer to the advanced 
summaries of Christian instruction to which, as will appear 
in the sequel, such frequent allusion is made. 

But having arrived at this point, it will be well if I simply 
recapitulate what has been said. 

I. I have pointed out, that at the very beginning of the 
history of the Christian Church we find a formal summary 
of Christian doctrine referred to under four different terms : 
f) 68bs t ri SiBaxVt ° X0709, r\ irtoTi?. 

II. That such a summary would be felt as a necessity 
when no written record of our Lord's life existed, and 
the Christian Church was increasing enormously day by 

III. That in the general organization of the Church 
conspicuous wisdom and foresight were exhibited when 
emergencies arose, and that it was unlikely so primary a 
need as this should be left for long unsupplied. 

Lastly, assuming that such a summary of fundamental 
Christian truth was drawn up thus early, that this X0709 
or SiSaxh was but a brief summary of primary Christian 
doctrine, possibly drawn up by the Twelve themselves; 
that the acceptance of this elementary creed was a con- 
dition of baptism ; but that supplementary to this primary 
summary there appear to have been expanded statements 
of more advanced or esoteric doctrine — possibly less gene- 
rally accepted, probably less widely diffused, and certainly 
less generally imposed ; and that such an expanded state- 


rnent was called j p umt w or ^wi iijh— , and ] 
bj other designations also. 

It remains to consider what fragments of these arigfnal 
fornralaries of the fakh are embedded, and may still be 
traced, in the writings of the Xew Testament. 

Augustus Jkssofp. 



X. The Teacher's Complaint (Chaps, v. 11-14, vi. 1-8). 

" Of whom," i.e. Melchisedec, continues the writer, taking 
up the second part of his programme first, " we have many 
things to say." Yet he does not say these things; he 
refrains from entering on ample discourse (ttoXu? \0709) on 
the Melchisedec priesthood, because his spirit is disturbed 
by the recollection that he writes to persons dull of appre- 
hension, at once ignorant, indolent, and prejudiced, unable 
and unwilling to take in new ideas, and, like horses with 
blinders on, capable of seeing only straight before them 
in the direction of use and wont, and therefore certain to 
find the thoughts he is about to express hard to understand. 
The haunting consciousness of this painful fact obscures 
the subject of discourse as a cloud hides the glory of the 
sun on an April day ; and even as our Lord was not able 
to proceed with His farewell address to His disciples till 
He had rid Himself of the presence of the traitor, so this 
man of philosophic mind and eloquent pen cannot proceed 
with his argument till he has given expression to the vexa- 
tion and disappointment caused by the inaptitude of his 
scholars. This he does with very great plainness of speech, 
for which all Christian teachers have reason to thank him ; 
for what he has written may be regarded as an assertion 
of the right of the Church to be something more than an 
infant school, and a defence of the liberty of prophesying 
on all themes pertaining to Christ as their centre against 
the intolerance always manifested by ignorance, stupidity, 
indolence, and prejudice towards everything that is not 
old, familiar, and perfectly elementary. 
The teacher's complaint is severe — too severe, if the 


things to be said concerned some curious point in theology 
on which the complainer had some pet notions. A man 
may be a good Christian, and yet be ignorant or indifferent 
in reference to the mysteries of predestination and free 
will and their reconciliation. Might not the Hebrews be 
sufficiently good Christians, and yet remain ignorant of, or 
incapable of understanding, the transcendental doctrine of 
the Melchisedec priesthood? No; because the question 
at issue is not a mere curious point in theology. It is 
rather the fundamental question whether Christ was really 
a priest. The priesthood of Christ in its reality and ideal 
worth is not understood, unless it is seen to be of the 
Melchisedec type. Therefore the incapacity complained of, 
if not fatal, is at least serious. 

The account given of the spiritual state of the Hebrew 
Christians is not flattering. In effect, they are represented 
as in their dotage. They have become dull of hearing, have 
become children having need of milk, and not able to receive 
the solid food of full grown men. They are not merely 
children, but in their second childhood ; in which respect 
it is interesting to compare the Hebrew Church with the 
Corinthian as described in Paul's first epistle. The mem- 
bers of the Corinthian Church were in their first childhood 
spiritually ; hence they were unruly, quarrelsome, and had 
an indiscriminate appetite for all sorts of food, without 
possessing the capacity to discern between what was 
wholesome and what unwholesome, or the self-control to 
choose the good and reject the evil. The members of the 
Hebrew Church, on the other hand, were in that state of 
dotage so affectingly described by Barzillai with reference 
to the physical powers : "lam this day fourscore years old ; 
and can I discern between good and evil ? can thy servant 
taste what I eat or what I drink ? can I hear any more the 
voice of singing men and singing women ? wherefore then 
should thy servant be yet a burden unto my lord the 


king?" The Hebrew Christians had once had a certain 
capacity of discernment, but they had lost it. Their senses 
had become blunted by the hebetude of old age : they had, 
so to say, no teeth to eat solid food, no taste to discern the 
excellency of new, strong meat, but simply enough taste to 
detect that the meat was new; no ear to appreciate the 
new songs of the Christian era, but just enough hearing left 
to tell them that the sounds they heard dimly were strange, 
not the familiar melodies of the synagogue; no eyes to 
see the glory of Christ's self-sacrifice, but simply vision 
enough to perceive as through a haze the gorgeous robes 
of the high priest as he moved about the temple precincts 
performing his sacerdotal duties. All the symptoms of 
senility were upon them as described by the preacher; 
decay was present and death near. Melancholy end of a 
Christian profession that had lasted some forty years ! 
Dotage at an advanced age, in the physical sphere, is natu- 
ral and blameless, exciting only tender pity ; in the spiritual 
sphere it is unnatural and blameworthy. What ought to 
be is steady progress towards moral and religious maturity 
(reXciorqra), characterized by practised skill to discern 
between good and evil, and settled preference for the good, 
a wise, enlightened mind, and a sanctified will. 1 That so 
few reach the goal, that healthy growth in the spiritual 
life is so rare, is for all earnest souls a wonder and a deep 

Having uttered these sharp words of reproof, the writer 
proceeds (vi. 1) to exhort his readers to aspire to that state 

1 The words riktios and reXei6n7$ (v. 14, vi. 1) are used here in a sense distinct 
from that in which Christ is said to have been perfected by suffering, and from 
that in which men are said to have been perfected by His one offering of 
Himself. To be perfect is always to be in the position of haying reached the 
end ; but the end in the present instance is not training for an office, or purga- 
tion of the conscience from the guilt of sin, but the attainment of manhood, 
with the characteristics named above. Of the two characteristics only the wise 
mind, or experienced judgment, is referred to, because defective spiritual 
intelligence is the thing complained of. 

VOL. IX. 27 


of Christian maturity which is capable of digesting solid 
food, and not to remain always at the beginnings of the 
Christian life. Perhaps we should rather say, that the 
writer intimates his own purpose to go on in his discourse 
from the milk of elementary truth that suits babes to the 
solid food of advanced doctrine that suits men. The com- 
mentators are divided in opinion as to which of these two 
interpretations is the more correct ; but it is scarcely worth 
while to discuss the question, as the one view implies the 
other. The writer does not wish merely to express his own 
thoughts concerning Christ's priestly office, but to com- 
municate them to others. He desires to teach; but he can 
teach only in so far as there is receptivity in his scholars. 
Teaching and learning are correlative, and teacher and 
scholar must keep pace with each other. No man can 
teach unless his pupils let him. Therefore this Christian 
doctor, minded to discourse not of the principia of Chris- 
tianity — " the beginning of Christ " — but of its higher 
truths, appropriately says, "Let us go on," expressing at 
once a purpose and an exhortation. 

In declining to make the Christian elements his exclusive 
theme, the writer takes occasion to indicate what these 
were. We scan with eager interest the list of fundamentals 
setting forth what, in the view of our author, and we may 
assume also of the Church in his time; a man was required 
to do and believe when he became a Christian. What first 
strikes one in this primitive " sum of saving knowledge " is 
how little that is specifically Christian it contains. There 
is no express reference to Christ, not even in connexion 
with faith, where it might have been expected. In his 
address to the elders at Miletus, Paul claimed to have tes- 
tified to Jews and Greeks "repentance towards God, and 
faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ." Here, on the other 
hand, mention is made of "repentance from dead works, and 
faith towards God," as if it were a question of theism as 


against polytheism, rather than of Christian belief. 1 It is 
superfluous to remark that the priesthood of Christ finds 
no place in the list; that topic evidently is regarded as 
belonging to the advanced doctrine. To us, who have been 
accustomed to regard faith in the atoning death of Christ, 
and even in a particular theory of the atonement, as essen- 
tial to salvation, all this must appear surprising. Yet the 
meagre account here given of the catechumen's creed is no 
isolated phenomenon in the New Testament. It is in entire 
accord with what we learn from Paul's First Epistle to the 
Thessalonians, which may be said to show the style of his 
instructions to young converts during the period of mis- 
sionary activity antecedent to the rise of the great contro- 
versy concerning the law. Paul's purpose in that epistle 
seems to be to remind the Thessalonian Christians, for 
their encouragement and strengthening, of the things he 
had taught them at the time of their conversion, such 
phrases as "ye remember," "ye know," being of frequent 
occurrence. Yet throughout the epistle we can find no 
trace of the doctrine of justification in the specifically 
Pauline sense, or of the doctrine of Christ's atoning death. 
Christ's death is indeed referred to, but in such a way as to 
suggest that the fact of vital importance to faith was not 
that He died, but that He rose again. " If we believe that 
Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in 
Jesus will God bring with Him." 2 

The apparently non-Christian character of the Christian 
principia is not the only perplexing feature in the list 01 
fundamentals. It is not easy to determine how the various 
matters mentioned are related to each other. Judging from 
the rhythmical structure of the sentence, one's first thought 

1 A few commentators have actually maintained that the reference is not to 
the Christian elements bat to the leading points in the Old Testament religion, 
faith in the true God, and the rites of purification and laying on of hands on 
the sacrificial viotims, of typical significance for the Christian religion. 

1 1 Thess. iv. 14. 


is that the list contains six co-ordinate articles, grouped in 
pairs : first, repentance and faith ; second, the doctrines of 
baptism and laying on of hands; third, the doctrines of 
resurrection and eternal judgment ; the members of each 
pair being of kindred nature, and the whole six forming 
together the foundation of the Christian religion. Bat 
doubt arises when it is observed that in this view things 
are mixed together which belong to different categories; 
repentance and faith, which are spiritual states, with 
doctrines about other matters of greater or less importance. 
If there are six articles in the list of fundamentals, why not 
say, " Not laying again a foundation in doctrine concerning 
repentance, faith, baptisms," etc. ? And so we are tempted 
to take up with another hypothesis ; viz. that the last four 
are to be regarded as the foundation of the first two, con- 
ceived not as belonging to the foundation, but rather as the 
superstructure. On this view we should have to render, 
" Not laying again a foundation for repentance and faith, 
consisting in instruction concerning baptisms, laying on of 
hands, resurrection, and judgment." In favour of this con- 
struction is the reading SiSaxvy (ver. 2, clause 1) found in 
B, and adopted by Westcott and Hort, which being in appo- 
sition with deyAXiov (ver. 1) suggests that the four things 
following form the foundation of repentance and faith. 

It is possible that the mixing up of states and doctrines 
in the list is due to the double attitude of the writer, 
as partly exhorting his readers, partly expressing his own 
purpose. " Not laying again a foundation, you by re- 
newed repentance and faith, by repetition of elementary 
instructions." But I cannot help thinking that there is 
discernible in this passage, notwithstanding its graceful 
rhythmical structure, on which Bengel and others have 
remarked, a slight touch of that rhetorical carelessness 
which recurs in much more pronounced form in chapter ix. 
10, where the writer, referring to the ineffectual ordinances 


of Levitical worship, characterizes them in language diffi- 
cult to construe as " only, with their meats and drinks and 
diverse washings, ordinances of the flesh imposed until a 
time of reformation." In that place the loose construction 
of the sentence is an oratorical device to express a feeling 
of impatience with the bare idea that Levitical rites could 
possibly cleanse the consciences of worshippers. Of course 
the writer has no thought of putting the elementary truths 
of Christianity on a level with these rites. But the feeling 
of impatience with never getting beyond the elements 
seems to influence his manner of referring to them, giving 
rise to an elliptical abruptness of style which leaves room 
for many questions as. to the construction that cannot with 
certainty be answered. 

On the whole, our first thought as to the connexion is 
probably the correct one, according to which the passage 
is to be paraphrased thus : " Leaving discourse on the 
beginning of Christ, let us go on unto maturity, and unto 
the doctrine that suits it, not laying again a foundation in 
reiterated exhortations to repentance and faith, and in 
instructions about such matters as baptisms, laying on of 
hands, resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment." 

The only points calling for explanation in this summary 
of elements are those included in the middle pair. Be- 
pentance and faith, the resurrection and the judgment, are 
obviously suitable subjects of instruction for persons begin- 
ning the Christian life. Bepentance and faith are the 
cardinal conditions of entrance into the kingdom of God, 1 

1 Mark i. 15 : " The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand ; 
repent ye, and believe the gospel." I reserve for consideration in another 
place (chap. ix. 14) the meaning of the words dwd veicp&v tpyuv attached to 
fterapolas. I will merely say here, that it is by no means so clear as most com- 
mentators assume it to be that " dead works " are synonymous with " sinful 
works," and that there is no reference to the religious works of an artificial 
legalism, which first our Lord and then Paul declared to be worthless and per- 
nicious. Of such works, in a transition time, when an old religion is dying 
and a new religion is coming in, there are always plenty ; and converts from 


and though resurrection and judgment, as events, come at 
the end of the Christian's career, the doctrine concerning 
them comes appropriately at the beginning, as fitted to 
inspire an awe and a hope which are most powerful motives 
to holiness. 

But what is the doctrine of baptisms? If instruction 
as to Christian baptism be mainly referred to, its appro- 
priateness at the commencement is beyond question. But 
why baptisms and not baptism ? Commentators generally 
concur in replying, because the writer has in view, not 
merely Christian baptism, but all the baptisms or washings 
with which Jewish converts were familiar. Where symbolic 
use of water in various forms was known, comparison would 
be natural, and might be useful as a means of conveying 
instruction as to the distinctive significance of Christian 
baptism. Against the reference to baptism in the specifi- 
cally Christian sense it has been urged that it is never, in 
the New Testament, denoted by fiaTTTio-fios, the word used 
here, but always by fjairriafia. To this however it seems 
a sufficient answer that the former word is employed 
because Christian baptism is included in a more compre- 
hensive category along with Levitical purifications. 

The " laying on of hands " is to be understood in the 
light of the apostolic practice of imposing hands on the 
heads of baptized persons, as a sign of the communica- 
tion of the Holy Ghost. This symbolic action was often 
followed by the bestowal of miraculous gifts. The doctrine 
probably consisted largely in explanations concerning these 

the old to the new feel that they are what most need to be repented of, and 
that in deliverance from them Christ's redemptive power is most signally 
displayed. They constitute the " vain conversation received by tradition from 
the fathers " of which St. Peter speaks. The phrase " dead works " as used by 
our author seems to be a current expression rather than a coinage of his own, 
and we can easily imagine its origin in circles familiar with Christ's moral 
criticism of Pharisaism. Bleek is of opinion that " dead works " mean legal 
religious works. 


gifts — tongues, prophesyings, etc. — just such instruction as 
we find in Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians on the 
subject of spiritual gifts. The doctrine of the laying on 
of hands has ceased to hold a place among the Christian 
principia, because miraculous charisms have passed away. 

Such are the fundamentals. 1 What now is meant by 
leaving them ? Not of course . ceasing to believe in them, 
or to think and speak of them, or to set importance on 
them ; for the things enumerated, though elementary, are 
fundamental, as the term dejiiXiov implies. They are to be 
left in the sense in which a builder leaves the foundation of 
a house, by erecting an edifice thereon. They are not to 
be treated as if they were everything, building as well as 
foundation ; as if all were done when the foundation was 
laid, and the builder might then fold his hands. Yet there 
has always been a Christianity of this sort, stationary, 
unprogressive, never getting beyond the initial stage, always 
concerned about repentance, pardon, peace, justification. 
With reference to Christian teachers the meaning is, that 
they are not to confine themselves to the elementary truths 
of the faith, but to go on to higher doctrine, teaching wisdom 
to the "perfect," the mature in spiritual understanding, 
not forgetful of their peculiar needs, though the number of 
them in the Church be small. Even for the sake of the 

1 In an interesting article in The Expositor for December, 1888, by Bey. 
R. G. Balfour, M.A., a third way of connecting the six articles is proposed : 
that the second pair is to be regarded as a parenthetical remark concerning the 
first, to the effect that repentance was symbolically taught by washings, i.e. 
Levitical purifications, and faith by the laying on of hands (on the head of the 
victim in the great day of atonement). Mr. Balfour renders, " Not laying again 
the foundation of repentance from dead works and faith exercised upon God 
(the things taught by washings, also by laying on of hands), also, the resurreo- 
tion of the dead and eternal judgment." Readers are referred to the article 
for his argument ; but I may notice here his contention that pavruryJav Maxn* 
can only mean the doctrine which washings teach, and that had the writer 
meant the doctrine concerning washings he would have written ire/rt p.8. But 
the genitive pcnrrurn&r may be either subjective or objective. For instances of 
the objective genitive see Winer's Grammar of New Testament Greek. 


immature it is well not to tarry too long by the elements, 
lest they imagine they have nothing more to learn, when in 
truth they are in the state of the disciples to whom Jesus 
said, " I have yet many things to say to yon, but ye cannot 
bear them now." 

What he has just declared to be desirable the writer 
intimates his own purpose to do, cherishing the desire, if 
not the hope, that he may carry his readers along with him. 
"And this will we do," you and I, "if, that is, 1 God 
permit." This " if God permit " is an ominous hint at the 
more than possibility of the Hebrews having become so 
spiritually hidebound that they will prove totally incapable 
of receiving new truth. And so it forms a suitable intro- 
duction to the solemn passage which follows. And yet, 
though when a grave, earnest man makes reference to God's 
sovereign will, we feel that he must have some serious 
thought in his mind, we are hardly prepared for the very 
sombre picture of the apostate which this passage contains. 
Nor is it quite easy to see how it is connected with what 
goes before. Does the writer mean, "It is useless to keep 
insisting on foundation truths relating to repentance, faith, 
and the like topics ; for if any one have fallen away you 
cannot bring him to repentance by any amount of preach- 
ing on the old trite themes " ? or is his meaning rather, 
" I do trust you and I will go on together to manhood and 
its proper food, though I have my fears concerning you, 
fears lest you be in the position of men who have lapsed 
from a bright initial experience, whose outlook for the 
future is necessarily very gloomy "? Possibly both of those 
thoughts were passing through his mind when he wrote. 

In these verses (4-6) there is a vivid description of a 
happy past, a supposition made regarding those whose past 
experience is pourtrayed, and a strong assertion hazarded 
regarding any in whom that supposition is realized. 

1 i&vTcp, the xe/> intensifying the force of the id*. 


The description of initial Christian experience is a com- 
panion picture to the preceding account of initial Christian 
instruction. It points to an intense religious life, full of 
enthusiasm, joy, and spiritual elevation, not however to be 
regarded as the exceptional privilege of the few, but rather 
as the common inheritance of the Church in the .apostolic 
age. The picture is painted in high colours, but the outlines 
are not very distinct ; and the spectator, while powerfully 
impressed, fails to carry away a clear idda of the scene. 
The writer's purpose is not to give information to us, but 
to awaken in the breasts of his first readers sacred memo- 
ries, and breed godly sorrow over a dead past. Hence he 
expresses himself in emotional terms such as might be 
used by recent converts rather than in the colder but more 
exact style of the historian. "The heavenly gift" — precious 
doubtless, but what is it? "The good word of God" — 
ineffably sweet, but what precise word gave such rare en- 
joyment? Five distinct elements in the initial Christian 
experience of converts seem to be specified,- yet on farther 
analysis they appear to be reducible to three: the illu- 
mination conveyed by elementary Christian instruction 
(<fxDTia6ivrasi) 9 the enjoyment connected with that illumina- 
tion (yevo-apivovs, ver. 4, repeated in ver. 5) ; l and the spiritual 
vower communicated by the Holy Ghost, and manifesting 
itself in the miraculous charisms whereof we read in Acts 
and in Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians (Swap**? 

1 The repetition of ycwra/Uvovs suggests that the clause in which the participle 
occurs for the second time may be explanatory of that in which it occurs for 
the first time. In that case the "heavenly gift" would be praotically identical 
with the " word of God," which the convert finds good to his taste = the gospel 
of grace; and the "Hofy Spirit*' in which the convert participates would be 
synonymous with the " powers of the world to come." That is to say, the Holy 
Spirit would be referred to, not as the indwelling source of Christian sanctity, 
but as the source of spiritual gifts or miraculous charisms. The change in the 
construction (the genitive after the participle in the first case, the accusative 
in the second) may suggest slightly differing shades of meaning: sharing, 
having part in the heavenly gift, appreciating the quality of the Divine word, 
receiving the truth, feeling its value. 


fiiXkovTo? al&vos, ver. 5). The cardinal fact is the illumina- 
tion. The light of heaven breaking in on the soul awakens 
strong emotions, which find vent in speaking with tongues 
and prophesying — the powers and signs of the Messianic 
age. That illumination is the epoch-making event of 
the Christian life. It takes place once for all (airaf) ; 
there ought to be no need for its repetition, nay, it can- 
not be repeated. It comes like a revelation, and produces 
mighty effects ; and woe to the man who lets the light go 

"If they fall away" (sud irapaireaovres), such is the 
supposition made with reference to persons who have gone 
through experiences so remarkable. The case put is that 
of persons who once knew, believed, and loved Christian 
truth, did wonderful works in Christ's name and by the 
power of His Spirit, lapsing into ignorance, unbelief, in- 
difference, or even dislike of what they once found sweet 
to their taste — God's word and the gift of grace to which 
it bears witness. The very putting of such a case seems 
a rude contradiction of the dogma of perseverance, and 
hence this passage has been a famous battlefield between 
Arminians and Calvinists. The expositor who is more con- 
cerned about the correct interpretation of Scripture than 
about the defence of any system of theology will not find 
himself able to go altogether with either side in the contro- 
versy. The Bible is an excellent book for the purposes 
of practical religion, but rather a tantalising book for the 
scholastic theologian. Its writers know nothing of the 
caution and reserve of the system maker, but express them- 
selves in strong, unqualified terms which are the torment 
of the dogmatist and the despair of the controversialist. 
The author of this epistle in particular writes, not as a 
theorist, but as an observer of facts. Cases of the kind 
described have actually come under his eye. He has seen 
uany bearing all the marks of true believers fall away, and 


he has observed that such men do not usually return to 
the faith from which they have lapsed. He speaks as his 
experience prompts. He does not call in question the 
reality of the faith and gracious affections of quondam 
Christians, but describes these after their fall, as he would 
have described them before it, admitting them to have 
been blossoms, though they were blighted by frost, or leaf- 
bearing branches, though they afterwards became dead and 

As little, on the other hand, does he hesitate to affirm 
that recovery in such cases is impossible, reasoning again 
from past observation, and also doubtless in part from the 
nature of the case, apostates appearing to him like a fire 
whose fuel has been completely consumed so that nothing 
remains but ashes. This brings us to the third point in the 
passage before us, — the strong assertion made regarding 
those who lapse: "It is impossible to renew them again 
unto repentance." Two questions suggest themselves. Is 
the assertion to be taken strictly ? and, so taken, is it true ? 
That the writer uses the word " impossible " strictly may 
be inferred from the reason he gives for his assertion. 
When mea have got the length of crucifying Christ to 
themselves, and putting Him to an open shame before 
others, their case is hopeless. 1 But possibly he puts too 
severe a construction on the facts. There may be a lapse 
from the bright life of a former time, serious and perilous, 

1 Dr. Edwards takes the participles toaaravpovvTas and TapafetyfiaTltovras, not 
as explanatory of rapavttTbvras t bat as patting a hypothetical case, and renders, 
" they cannot be renewed after falling away if they persist in crucifying." The 
change from the aorist to the present may be in favour of this view, yet one 
cannot help feeling that the writer means to say something more serious than 
that falling away is fatal when it amounts to crucifying Christ. Mr. Kendall 
has another way of softening the severity of the dictum ; viz. to take dvaKaivlfav 
as expressing continuous action, and render "it is impossible to keep re- 
newing "=» the process of falling and renewing cannot go on indefinitely: the 
power of impression grows weaker, and at length becomes exhausted by repeti- 
tion. This view is certainly in keeping with the spirit of the whole passage 
(v. 11-14, vi. 1-8). 


but not amounting to a crucifying of Christ, or so hardening 
the heart as to make repentance impossible. 

Now two things may be admitted here. First, there are 
phases of the spiritual life liable to be mistaken for symp- 
toms of apostasy, which are truly interpreted only when 
looked at in the light of the great law of gradual growth enun- 
ciated by our Lord in the parable of the blade, the green 
ear, and the full corn in the ear. 1 The difficult problem of 
Christian experience cannot be mastered unless we grasp the 
truth taught in that parable, and know the characteristics 
of each stage, and especially of the second, which are most 
liable to be misunderstood. For lack of such knowledge 
many a Christian, destined to reach a splendid spiritual man- 
hood, has seemed to himself and others to have fallen away 
utterly from grace, faith, and goodness, while he was simply 
passing through the stage of the green fruit, with all its 
unwelcome yet wholesome experiences. In this crude stage 
of his religious history Bunyan thought he had committed 
the sin against the Holy Ghost, and "an ancient Christian," 
supposed to be wise in counsel, whom he consulted, told 
him he thought so too. Tet he was on the way to Beulah 
through the valley of the shadow of death ; and few reach 
that blessed land without passing along the same dark, 
• dreary road. How far the writer of our epistle, or indeed 
any of the New Testament writers, understood the law of 
growth by broadly discriminated stages, enunciated by 
Christ, does not appear. It is certain that nowhere else 
in the New Testament can there be found a statement 
approaching in scientific clearness and distinctness to that 
contained in the parable referred to. 8 In absence of a 

i Mark iv. 26-29. On this parable see The Parabolic Teaching of Christ. 

* It has been disputed whether there be any distinct doctrine of growth or 
gradual sanctification in Paul's epistles. Pfleiderer maintains the affirmative. 
Reuss, a more orthodox theologian, denies, maintaining that Paul conceives the 
new life as perfect from the first. There is a noticeable difference between Paul 
and our Lord in their respective manner of dealing with the defects of young 


theory of Banctification to guide them, however, their spiri- 
tual sagacity might be trusted to keep them from con- 
founding a case like Bunyan's with that of an apostate. 

Second. Bible writers often state in unqualified terms 
as an absolute truth what is in reality only an affair of 
tendency. Translated into a statement of tendency, the 
doctrine taught is this. Every fall involves a risk of apo- 
stasy, and the higher the experience fallen from the greater 
the risk. The deeper religion has gone into a man at the 
commencement of his Christian course, the less hopeful his 
condition if he lapse. The nearer the initial stage to a 
thorough conversion the less likely is a second change, if 
the first turn out abortive; and so on, in ever-increasing 
degrees of improbability as lapses increase in number. The 
brighter the light in the soul, the deeper the darkness when 
the light is put out. The sweeter the manna of God's word 
to the taste, the more loathsome it becomes when it has 
lost its relish. The fiercer the fire in the hearth while the 
fuel lasts, the more certain it is that when the fire goes out 
there will remain nothing but ashes. The livelier the hope 
of glory, the greater the aversion to all thoughts of the 
world to come when once a Christian has, like Atheist in 
the Pilgrim's Progress, turned his back on the heavenly 
Jerusalem. Action and reaction are equal. The more 
forcibly you throw an elastic ball against a wall the greater 
the rebound; in like manner the more powerfully the human 
spirit is brought under celestial influences, the greater the 
recoil from all good, if there be a recoil at all. The gushing 
enthusiasts of to-day are the cynical sceptics of to-morrow. 
Have promoters of "revivals" laid these things duly to 

Christians. Paul blames, as if they were fall grown men ; Christ corrects, as 
one who knows that nothing else is to be looked for in children, and that the 
future will bring wisdom : " I have many things to say unto you, but ye cannot 
bear them now." 


But the wise teacher whose complaint of his doll scholars 
we are considering has something more serious in view, 
when he speaks of falling away, than the coldness and 
languor, or even the moral lapses, which are apt to overtake 
converts after a period of great excitement. It is not a 
question of loss of feeling, or of unstable, inconsistent con- 
duct, or of falls through infirmity, but of deep alienation of 
heart. He thinks of such as are capable of cherishing 
towards Christ the feelings of hatred which animated the 
men who crucified Him, and of openly renouncing the 
Christian faith. This was the crime the Hebrew Christians 
were tempted to commit. A fatal step it must be when 
taken; for men who left the Christian Church and went 
back to the synagogue became companions of persons who 
thought they did God service in cursing the name of Jesus. 

The writer proceeds (vers. 7, 8), by a comparison drawn 
from agriculture, to illustrate the danger to which those are 
exposed who, having had a pronounced spiritual experience, 
afterwards fall away from the faith and life of the gospel. 
The parable does not really afford us much help to the 
understanding of the matter; as it is rendered in the 
Authorized Version it affords no help at all. As the case 
is put there, a contrast seems to be drawn between two 
kinds of soil, one of which is well watered, and therefore 
fertile, while the other is unwatered, and therefore sterile 
or productive only of thorns and thistles. Such a contrast 
would bring out the difference between those who have and 
those who have not enjoyed gospel privileges, not the dif- 
ference between two classes of Christians who have both 
equally enjoyed such privileges, or the two possible alter- 
natives in the case of every professing Christian. It is 
a contrast fitted to serve the latter purpose that really is 
made. Exactly rendered it runs thus : " For land which, 
after drinking in the rain that cometh oft upon it, bringeth 
orth herbage meet for those for whose benefit it is tilled, 


receiveth blessing from God ; but if it (the same land well 
watered) bear thorns and thistles, it is worthless, and nigh 
unto a curse, whose end is unto burning." 

When we compare this parable with any of our Lord's, 
there is a great falling off in point of felicity and instruc- 
tiveness. One purpose it doubtless serves, to make clear 
the matter of fact, that the same Christian privileges and 
experiences may issue in widely different ultimate results. 
The soil is supposed in either case to be well watered, not 
only rained upon, but often saturated with water, having 
drunk up the blessing of the clouds, and moreover to be 
carefully tilled; for though that point is left in the back- 
ground, it is alluded to in the words St' otto teal yewpyeircu. 
Yet in one case it yields a useful crop, in the other only a 
useless crop of thorns and thistles. But why? On this 
important question the parable throws no light. The land 
which bears the useless crop is not a barren rock; for it 
drinks in the rain, and it is considered worth ploughing. 
Nay, it is doubtful if the case supposed in the second 
alternative can occur in the natural world. Was there ever 
a land well tilled and watered that produced nothing but 
thorns and thistles? It seems as if the natural and the 
spiritual were mixed up here, and that were said of the one 
which is strictly true only with reference to the other. 
The writer describes a case in the natural world which can 
hardly happen to represent a case which may happen in 
the spiritual world, that, viz., of men whose hearts have 
been sown with the seed of truth and watered with the 
rain of grace becoming so utterly degenerate and reprobate, 
as in the end to produce nothing but the thorns and thistles 
of unbelief and ungodliness. 1 Mixture of metaphor and 

i Natural improbability occurs in some of our Lord's parables; e.g., in the 
parable of the great supper. Such a thing as all the guests invited to a feast 
with one consent refusing to come does not happen in society. The truth is, 
it is impossible to describe the essentially unreasonable behaviour of men in 
regard to the kingdom of God in parabolic language, without violating natural 


literal sense is indeed manifest throughout, the phrases 
"receiveth blessing," "reprobate" (ioY*t/A09), "nigh to a 
curse," "whose end is unto burning," expressing moral 
ideas rather than physical facts. This is particularly evident 
in the case of the last phrase. It plainly points to a judicial 
visitation of the severest kind, the appointed penalty of 
spiritual unfruitfulness. But in the natural sphere burning 
is remedial rather than punitive, to burn land which has 
become foul being a good method of restoring it to fertility. 

In yet another respect the comparison fails us. Suppos- 
ing there were such a thing as burning unprofitable land 
by way of judicial visitation, as the land of Sodom was 
destroyed by fire and brimstone — an event which may have 
been present to the writer's thoughts, — the fact might serve 
to symbolize the Divine judgment on apostasy. But the 
matter on which we most of all need light is the asserted 
impossibility of renewal. That the finally impenitent 
should be punished we understand, but what we want to 
know is, how men get into that state : what is the psycho- 
logical history of irreconcilable apostasy? To refer to 
Divine agency in hardening human hearts does not help us, 
for God hardens by means naturally fitted and intended to 
soften and win. Neither can we take refuge in the suppo- 
sition of insufficient initial grace, at least from the point of 
view of the writer of our epistle ; for he assumes that the 
fruitful and the unfruitful have been equally favoured. The 
rain falls not less liberally on the land that bears thorns and 
thistles than on the land that brings forth an abundant 
crop of grass or grain ; and the rain represents the enlight- 
enment, enjoyment, and power previously mentioned. 

In the parable of the sower the diversity in the results is 

traced to the nature of the soil. In each case the issue is 

probability. On the other hand, the parables which describe Christ's own con- 
duct, mnoh assailed by His contemporaries, are all thoroughly true to nature ; 
e.g., those in the fifteenth chapter of Luke. I have remarked on this contrast 
in The Parabolic Teaching of Christ* 


exactly such as we should expect from the character of the 
ground. In the parable before us opposite results are sup- 
posed to be possible in the same soil. That is to say, the 
effect is conceived to depend on the will of each individual, 
on the use one makes of his privileges. The Hebrew 
Christians might have been teachers, instead of childish 
learners, had they chosen to take the necessary pains ; they 
might have been full grown men, had they only properly 
exercised their spiritual senses in discerning between good 
and evil. 

A. B. Bruce. < 




m. The Minor Figubes. 

How does Art contrive to define and quicken into life those 
minor characters upon whom she cannot bestow a large 
space or many touches ? To one method, only too simple 
and obvious, many even among distinguished authors have 
been driven : the fixing a sort of label upon these personages, 
by which they may be known again. The fat boy in 
Dickens is always dropping asleep, and Mr. Buckett shaking 
his finger : Eobespierre in Carlyle is always sea-green, and 
Buonaparte always bronze. 

In greater writers than these we have not this repetition 
of one mannerism, or insistence upon one physical peculiarity, 
but in the place of a human being we too often find the 
incarnation of a quality. In Ben Jonson the minor char- 
acters are not boastful or boorish, self-indulgent or servile 
men, they are boastfulness or stupidity, luxury or adulation, 
dressed up as puppets and bidden to speak. Nay, even the 
supreme dramatic power of Shakespeare may, with a little 
attention, be caught in the workshop, and its methods 
detected by a study of his minor parts. 

Speed is not very characteristic, except when he quibbles. 
Marcellus has no individuality, except so far as he forbodes 
public mischief (catching up this clue from Horatio), and 
when first discussing the apparition wants to know, " Why 
such daily cast of brazen cannon? " and again thinks, when 
the ghost reappears, that " something is rotten in the state 
of Denmark." Most readers can see the wires which move 
the clowns and pedants ; and liveliness is given to the 
maidens in several plays by the device of making them copy 
closely the wiles and coquetries of their mistresses, thus 
reduplicating the effect which has already been elaborated. 



Such things show that genius itself cannot easily vivify a 
character in a few strokes. And we must remember that 
the dramatist and the novelist have a great advantage, 
because they mould their incidents with a view to the 
unfolding and artificial display of human nature, while the 
historian must follow the actual course of events. 

The gospel history has proved its fidelity in a remarkable 
way. For it has not condescended to gratify men's innocent 
curiosity by relating the slightest incident concerning many 
of the apostolic group. 

It is a familiar evidence of the faith, that the Scripture is 
often most explicit where " the mind of the flesh " has no 
desire to learn, and at times most silent where men are so 
inquisitive as to imagine the answer which has been with- 
held from us. 

The spurious gospels, with their wild accounts of the 
education of the Virgin, the childhood of Jesus, and the 
descent into hell, are well known specimens of the lines 
along which Scripture would have been impelled, if the 
motive power had been human curiosity and not Divine 
inspiration, if the gospel had been invented as an anodyne 
for the cravings of the intellect, and not given as bread for 
the hunger of the soul. And the same superhuman silence 
rebukes us, when we ask what supreme greatness it was, of 
service or of wisdom, which engraved on the foundation 
stones of the heavenly Jerusalem some of the names of the 
twelve Apostles of the Lamb. 

Concerning Simon the Cananaean, we only know what 
that name, and St. Luke's translation of it, tell us. He 
had been a Zealot. For a moment at least he Simon 
had been drawn to that wild and unscrupulous Zelotes. 
movement which at last shook down his country. Was it 
while yet in the fever of such excited energies that he saw 
the wondrous works of Jesus, did homage to the zeal of 
God's house which ate Him up (John ii. 17, B.V.), and 



thenceforce yielded his soul to be gradually transformed 
by the milder ardours of the Christian faith? Or was 
it in some hour of sad reaction against the violence and 
guilt of his faction that he was drawn to the gentler 
Physician of bleeding souls, as one looks up, with aching 
eyes, from the glare of a conflagration to the silver light 
of heaven ? 

We know not; nor is any effort whatever made to fix 
our attention upon the fact, of more profound significance 
than perhaps the evangelists themselves were conscious, 
that the wild zeal of Simon was called into such close com- 
munion with the Lamb of God. Jesus never indicated 
more clearly that His Church was to embrace all phases 
and temperaments of human nature, and that He was Him- 
self the Son of man, the Child of universal humanity, who 
could sympathise with high aspiring, even when it was ill- 
regulated and mistaken, with zeal toward God though not 
according to knowledge, than when He, the meek and lowly 
of heart, who should not strive, nor cry, nor lift up His 
voice in the streets, chose for one of His immediate fol- 
lowers the Zealot. Neither is any comment made upon 
the scorn of mere prudence which enrolled a follower so 
sure to be suspected. That it was so is recorded : the con- 
clusion we are left to draw for ourselves. Nor do we read 
anything of the gallant labours by which Simon doubtless 
justified the choice. As he comes, so he passes away, in 
silence. We only know of him, because we know it of all, 
that he praised God when his Lord ascended, awaited the 
Comforter in the upper room, rejoiced when they were 
accounted worthy to suffer dishonour for the Name (Acts v. 
41), and bore his part in the planting of the sacred seed in 
the broad field of the world. Yet there is no more tempt- 
ing subject for legend or romance to work upon than the 
deeds of the Zealot in the cause of Jesus. But possibly his 
methods, however effective, were not the best to put on 


record for the meditations of the Church. Beyond doubt 
they were outshone by the achievements of that other who 
was called, while breathing out threats and slaughters, to 
bear the name of Jesus to remote nations and to kings. 

And thus, edification not requiring the record, not a 
solitary act or word of Simon Zelotes is preserved to us. 
It suffices him that his name is written in the one lasting 
roll of fame, the book of life. 

We are in almost equal ignorance concerning James the 
Little in stature, miscalled James the Less. We do not 
certainly know that he was a different person James the 
from the brother of the Lord, although it will Little. 
never be the opinion of unsophisticated readers that if one 
brother (or two, for Jude must follow the same ruling) 
were already among the Twelve, and had shared in the 
great confession of St. Peter, " Thou art . . . the Son of 
the living God," St. John could have written that, in the 
last period of Christ's ministry, "even His brethren did 
not believe on Him " (vii. 5). 1 

No careful reader can be misled by the Authorized Version 
of Galatians i. 19, nor would this rendering itself establish 
the conclusion which has been drawn from it (cf. Lightfoot 
in toe.). And if it be objected that three persons of one 
name could scarcely have held prominent positions in the 
Church, we may well ask in reply whether it was the son 
of Zebedee, or the brother of Jesus and bishop of Jeru- 
salem, who needed to be distinguished by the singular title 
James the Small. 

Thus we are led to the conclusion that we have a second 
Apostle, concerning whose words or deeds not an echo of 
fame has reached us. 

1 The answer of Lange is surely enough to put his case out of court. " The 
brethren of Jesus, though still, when viewed in the light of the subsequent 
Pentecostal season, unbelieving, i.e. self-willed and gloomy, could nevertheless 
be apostles " (Life, i., 836). 


Nor does it appear, at first sight, that the case of Bar- 
tholomew is any clearer. His very name is uncertain, 

Bar-tholomew being only the son of Tolmai, 
Bartholomew. _ . , - m - -r» ^ 

as Bartimaeus is the son of Timaeus. Bat an 

ingenious conjecture throws some light, though flickering 
and uncertain, upon the subject. The group of fishers in 
the closing narrative of St. John consists entirely of 
apostles, unless Nathanael be an exception (xxi. 2). But 
Nathanael was previously mentioned in the story of the 
calling of the first and greatest of the apostles, and there 
we read that he was found by Philip. Now it is pointed 
out, that the three catalogues in the synoptical gospels all 
join the name of Bartholomew with this same Philip. It n 
is therefore a reasonable conjecture, so long as we re- 
member that it is a surmise and no more, which makes 
Nathanael the son of Tolmai. 

And this brings within our scope an incident delicately 
drawn. When a Nazarene is announced to Nathanael as 
the Messiah, local prejudice and the unfitness of such a 
hamlet for such honour make him dubious. And when 
Jesus pronounces him an Israelite indeed, because guile- 
less, and therefore worthy of the better name of him who 
was at first a supplanter, he is still cautious, and asks, 
" Whence knowest Thou me?" And yet, in this question, 
the character given to him is justified. For he does not 
feel it to be misplaced : no hidden dishonesty causes the 
saying to jar upon his consciousness ; rather, he asks how it 
comes to pass that he is known so well. And when Jesus 
answers by indicating some secret of his inner life, his 
guileless nature no longer hesitates to confess Him largely 
and amply, and the true Israelite does homage to his 
King: "Babbi, Thou art the Son of God" (whom the 
Baptist thus describes, ver. 34), " Thou art the King of 

How often has our curiosity asked what it was that 


Jesus saw beneath the fig tree, what temptation conquered, 
what good deed performed, what passionate prayer of the 
genuine Israelite for his forsaken land? But the tact of 
Jesus betrayed not what the simplicity of Nathanael would 
fain conceal. The Lord proceeds to stimulate his hope by 
a promise of greater things, in which all the group should 
have a part, 1 such a reunion of heaven and earth as was 
revealed to Jacob, ere yqt his guile was burned out of him 
in the fire of affliction, the coming and going of angels 
as upon a ladder upon Him whom His disciples confessed 
to be the Son of God, but who loved to call Himself the 
Son of man (John i. 45-51). 

The graceful reticence of Jesus with regard to Natha- 
nael's innocent secret ; the coyness of the intellect and the 
alacrity of the heart of the new disciple, and the title he 
gives his King, which virtually says, " If I be an Israelite, 
my fealty is Thine"; the reward promised to his faith, 
which is not a personal gain, but an ampler revelation; 
and the repeated allusion to the history of the patriarch, — 
all contribute to the effect of this sunny and delightful inci- 
dent. And yet all we read afterwards of Nathanael is that 
he went a-fishing with Peter. And except by this con- 
jecture we know absolutely nothing of the Apostle Bartho- 
lomew. So far is Scripture from idealizing even its greatest 

One certain incident only brings Jude into a clearer light, 
since the same arguments which apply to James the Little 
show that he too was not the brother of our 
Lord, the author of the Epistle of Jude. 
From his position in the lists, we may be sure that he is 
the Lebbseus of St. Matthew and the Thaddaeus of St. 
Mark ; and perhaps these names were used, like the addi- 
tions of the epithet, " brother (or son) of James," to sepa- 
rate him clearly from the infamy of his terrible namesake. 

1 " Believest thou ? ... ye shall see." 


What we read of him is one thoughtful question, met by 
a full and deeply spiritual answer. " Lord, what is come to 
pass that Thou wilt manifest Thyself unto us, and not onto 
the world ? " To Jude we owe the great exposition how 
love leads to obedience, and attracts in return the Divine 
love which leads to manifestation; while they who love 
not Christ cannot keep His words (John xiv. 22-24). 

Reassured then by the utter absence of all " tendency " 
from the narrative, which seeks not to create a wonderful 
career, nor spiritual achievement, nor intellectual dis- 
tinction for the chosen ones, we return to those minor 
personages in the group of whom some few incidents are 
recorded. Putting these incidents together, we ask whether 
they indicate real character, life, individuality ; and if so, 
whether there is any trace of artifice or self-consciousness 
in the indications. 

Foremost in order and perhaps in interest is Andrew, the 
brother of the strong and impetuous Peter, 
and sharer of the family temperament. 

When he, with another, hears the Baptist's testimony, 
they promptly follow Jesus, who is hitherto unattended, - 
and has apparently come back from the temptation to make 
a silent claim on His forerunner for the first elements out 
of which He will mould His Church. It was not for mortal 
to accost Jesus before He had begun His public work of 
grace. But when He asks, "What seek ye?" the answer 
is direct and brief: " Rabbi, where dwellest Thou? " From 
the lowly home of Jesus Andrew goes to Peter with the 
short and sharp utterance of an eager man who has no 
misgivings, " We have found the Messiah," so unlike the 
weighed and slow declaration of the same fact by Philip, 
who took seventeen words to announce what Andrew said 
in three. And here again the reticence must be observed 
which tells us nothing of the surprise of the two friends, 
confronted by a Messiah so unlike the national hope, in a 


dwelling so unlike their dreams, nor anything of the earliest, 
wonderful discourse which sent forth Andrew, with his soul 
on fire, the first convert that ever led another to his Lord, 
and that other, the Peter of the keys. Does any one doubt 
that legend would have reversed the positions of Simon 
and Andrew in this narrative ? l 

When Jesus called the two brothers from their nets, 
Andrew was no less prompt than Simon to obey : " They 
straightway left the nets, and followed Him " (Matt. iv. 20). 

In the miracle of the five thousand, when the disciples 
were bidden to see what provision was forthcoming, Andrew 
discovered the lad with the loaves and fishes ; and St. John, 
who only has preserved this detail, so tells it as to suggest 
a suspicion that there was already some lurking hope of 
what should follow, the information being apparently ready, 
and Andrew's suggestive mention of this little store being 
contrasted with Philip's unenterprising calculation (John 
vi. 7, 8). 

Still more characteristic is the story of the application 
of certain Greeks to the Apostle with a Greek name. 
Philip hesitates, knows not what to do ; but the difficulty 
vanishes the moment that Andrew, as a helpful person, is 
consulted : Philip and Andrew went and told Jesus (John 
xii. 22). This is in exact harmony with all that we know 
of both ; yet so undesigned and subtle is the coincidence, 
that even Dean Alford has overlooked it, and transposed the 
parts they play. "When certain Greeks wished for an 
interview with Jesus, they applied through Andrew, who 
consulted Philip," etc. (Smith's Bible Dictionary, Art 
Andrew). It may safely be asserted that Andrew would 
have done nothing of the kind. 

1 Benan can of course explain the part they take by the simple theory that 
St. John was jealous of Peter, and sought to put him in a secondary place, even 
in this matter (Vie, p. lxvi., note 2 ; 15th edition). But most sceptics would 
find their positions gravely compromised indeed, if they brought back the 
Gospel of St. John so far as this unamiable theory demands. 



Once more, when the three who formed an inner circle 
desired to ask a question of pre-eminent importance, when 
should the temple be destroyed, and what should be the 
sign, they associated Andrew with them in asking Jesus 
" privately " (Mark xiii. 3). All this is consistent, lucid, 
and natural : let us see how it agrees with the conduct of 

We have already twice glanced at the contrast between 
the decision of Andrew and the greater deliberation of 
Philip. A slow, and even hesitating circum- 
spection is the distinctive peculiarity of this 
disciple. At the very outset he needs a direct impulse 
from the supreme "Will ; he is the first whom Jesus claims, 
and as it were seizes, saying, " Follow Me." In Smith's 
Dictionary he is described as repeating to Nathanael " the 
self-same words with which Andrew had brought to Peter 
the good news that the Christ had at last appeared." But 
the difference is far more significant than the likeness, and 
none would fail to distinguish the words of the brother of 
Peter, if shown for the first time the two sentences, one 
so concentrated, the other so cautious, so cumulative in its 
slow disclosure, so diplomatic in reserving to the very last 
the dangerous word which did actually startle his hearers. 
One said, " We have found the Christ " : the other, " Him 
whom Moses wrote of in the law, and the prophets, we have 
found, Jesus the son of Joseph, Him of Nazareth." And 
when Nathanael questions further, Philip returns the 
unemotional, discreet answer, " Come and see " (John i. 
43-47). It was to Philip, and specially to prove him, that 
Jesus put the question, " Whence shall we buy bread, that 
these may eat?" And with his natural grave circumspec- 
tion Philip calculates the sum necessary to give each of 
them a little (John vi. 5-7). 

We have already seen him needing the advice of Andrew 
before venturing to tell Jesus of the application of the 


Greeks (John xii. 20-22). And when Jesus declares that 
from henceforth His disciples know, and have seen the 
Father, Philip suddenly discloses a desire for more tangible 
evidence than even that of the voice which lately came, for 
their sakes, who needed it, from heaven. There is care, 
misgiving, the accent of a troubled heart in his answer, 
" Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us " ; if we had 
seen Him these brooding anxieties would be at rest (John 
xiv. 8). 

In him a different type of character finds a place among 
the Twelve, and even a place of honour ; for the slow and 
cautious heart is often most loyal at the core. Philip is 
leader of the second of those three groups of four Apostles, 
into which we have seen that the Twelve are sub-divided. 

Yet one cannot but feel that Clement of Alexandria has 
either preserved a fact, or else indicated, perhaps uncon- 
sciously, a striking resemblance of character, when he 
quotes the words as addressed to Philip, "Let the dead 
bury their dead, but thou follow Me." Was he not the 
very man to plead, " Suffer me first to go and bury my 

From Philip to Thomas is but one step, and that in the 
same direction; but th$ advance is real, and the charac- 
teristics, though similar, are discriminated as 

X WO M AS . 

accurately as the melancholy of Jacques from 
that of Hamlet. Philip hesitates and considers, Thomas 
despairs. He is in sore danger of falling, and the hour 
will come when he must either conquer his besetment or 
perish. Yet he is kept by the fire of real love, which 
gleams through all the smoke of his despondency. For he 
is loyal when most hopeless, and his character is perfectly 
shown in the first event that is recorded of him. When 
Jesus would return to Judaea, where the Jews had lately 
sought to kill Him, and added to some obscure sayings 
about Lazarus the plain words, " Lazarus is dead, . . . 


let as go unto him," Thomas readily inferred the worst. 
All was oyer now ; nothing was left but either to forsake 
his Master or to share His fate. And yet the faithful 
heart conquered the gloomy temperament, and he said, 
with no parade of loyalty, not addressing Jesus Himself, 
bat his comrades, Let us be true to the end ; " let us also 
go, that we may die with Him " (John xi. 16). It is a 
saying which deserves the notice of those shallow critics 
who find only boastfulness in the professions of the last 

The same helplessness (brooding no doubt upon the 
solemn warnings which intervened, but unable to accept 
these with their stated limitations, and with the promise 
of ultimate triumph which accompanied them every one) 
reappears in the second incident recorded. It was when 
Jesus said, " Whither I go, ye know the way," that he 
seized the opportunity to confess his perplexities in the 
discouraging and despairing comment, "Lord, we know 
not whither Thou goest: how know we the way?" (John 
xiv. 5.) He speaks for his brethren as well as himself; 
but Thomas was their spokesman in despair, as naturally 
as Peter in the confession of their faith. 

Such joyless temperaments are given to solitude. 1 We 
know too little to rely upon the absence of any conjunction 
of another name with his, but there is much significance in 
the fact that he was not with the disciples when they 
solemnly assembled, with due precautions, in the evening 
of the resurrection day (John xx. 24). In what seclusion 
had he buried his woes, that all day long no rumour of the 
return of hope had reached him? Or in what obstinate 
despair had he repelled the tidings, and held aloof from the 

1 Jacques and Hamlet have just been mentioned. The former in his 
affectation of melancholy, Bays, "I thank you for your company; but, good 
faith, I had aa lief have been myself alone." And the latter Bays, " Man 
delights not me, nor woman neither." 


assembly, whose agitation and suspense would irritate his 
settled gloom ? Accordingly no vision but his own will 
convince him ; and even this he does not think enough, 
for it is not the sincerity of his comrades that he doubts, 
he would equally refuse the same evidence exhibited to 
himself. Such is the utter despair of love in its defeat, a 
love which broods over the list of the cruel wounds that 
have bereaved it, and requires to verify them all. And yet 
some unconscious hope relieved the darkness of the long 
week which followed, for he was not absent when Jesus 

This was the crisis of his life, when his character will be 
fixed, and he must either " become " faithless or believing 
(/it) ylvov airier™?, a\\a ino-ros). And his glad avowal, for it 
is more than a cry, tells us that the victory is won. Thou 
art " my Lord and my God " (for e O Kvpio? /iov is a 
confession ; an exclamation would have been Kvpte). 

We are surely entitled to claim these three various inci- 
dents as a revelation of consistent character, more perfect 
than any which the students of Shakespeare have found 
wrought upon as small a canvas. 

Of the minor Apostles, only Matthew is left. And here 
the study is complicated, because we know more of his true 
nature from the character of his gospel (the , 

M attht.w 

authenticity of which is here assumed, as well 
as the obvious identity of Matthew and Levi), than from 
what is told us directly of him. Something however is 
recorded, and we can compare the two sources of infor- 

From the fact that he had been a publican, we may infer 
that his feelings, if strong, would be silent and repressed, 
as are those of all whose position is equivocal and ill 
thought of. When Jesus called, " he left all " ; but it is 
not he himself who joins this statement to the words " he 
rose and 'followed Him," nor who records the fact that 


he made for Jesus " a great feast in his own house " * 
(Luke v. 28, 29). St. Matthew's expression was both 
unostentatious and natural from the man himself, "as 
Jesus sat at meat in the house 1 ' (Matt. ix. 10). Here, 
because they saw the acceptance of a publican, many pub- 
licans and sinners sat at meat with Him, and his gospel, 
which is accused of a specially Hebrew tone and of Old 
Testament sympathies, records that His discourse was of 
the futility of patching old garments, and putting new wine 
into old skins. 

And this is all we know of him, except one striking 
inference. Although he was apparently the only man of 
business among the Twelve, and should naturally have 
been the treasurer, yet he was either content to yield the 
post to Judas, or submissive when supplanted by him. 

Trained in the somewhat mechanical duties of an officer 
of customs, and repressed besides by the evil reputation of 
his calling, silent about his large hospitality, but careful to 
record his shame, and willing to stand aside when another 
would push before him, what sort of gospel should we 
expect from Matthew ? His writing should exhibit order, 
an interest in numbers, a business-like attention to detail, 
accuracy rather than boldness or a fiery reproduction of 
passionate and striking scenes ; and yet under all this the 
strong, deep feeling of the man who never forgot that the 
King of the Jews had called the toll-gatherer of the Koman 
to His side. Nor is it wonderful that his gospel should be 
the most Hebrew of the four, and more than the others 
careful to trace in the story of Christ all the fibres of con- 
nexion with that ancient system which his former calling 
had somewhat slighted. 

And this is exactly what we find. At the beginning, he 
so arranges the genealogy that there shall be three sections, 

1 He alone, in the list of Apostles, adds to his own name the epithet of 
shame, " the publican." 


each of fourteen persons, so that the Messiah comes in the 
seventh place after six sevens. It is from him alone that 
we learn that a second demoniac was healed at Gerasa, and 
a second blind man in Jericho (Matt. i. 17, viii. 27, xx. 30). 
And these two parallel cases entirely turn the edge of the 
somewhat clumsy railleries of Strauss, because Matthew 
alone mentions also that in the triumphal entry the ass 
accompanied her foal. It is in his manner thus to parti- 
cularize, as if he were entering an account ; it is not in 
that of either Mark or Luke. 

If any one doubts the comparative absence of graphic 
and vivid delineation, he need only compare the three 
accounts of the fierceness and the cleansing of the demoniac 
(Matt. viii. 28, Mark v. 1, Luke viii. 26), or the two reports 
of that noble peroration, the falling of the house built upon 
sand, and the stability of the other which was built upon 
a rock (Matt. vii. 24, Luke vi. 47). 

Yet when he comes to relate the suffering, the death, 
and the awful consequences of the death of his Master, it 
is this evangelist, elsewhere so calm and self-restrained, 
who rises to an epic grandeur and overwhelming energy, 
nor is anything in any other gospel even comparable to this 
astonishing narrative. 

The four gospels have now been subjected to an elaborate 
and exhaustive cross-examination. Not one incident that 
is related of the more obscure Apostles, by which the 
slightest insight into character could be obtained, has been 
(consciously, at all events) passed over. And what have 
we found ? Not a vestige of straining after effect, not the 
least desire to exhibit one of them as a hero or even as a 
saint, but human nature in all its varied phases, energetic, 
fearful, despondent, business-like, always vivid, consistent, 

Either the evangelists possessed a graphic and imagi- 


native power equal to that of the greatest genius in all 
literature, enabling them, not once or twice, in three or 
four touches to create a distinct individual man, which 
power however they wielded quite unconsciously in the 
service of religion and not of art, or else they drew from 
life. One of these alternatives the sceptic is bound to 
choose. And when doing so, he must observe that he is 
dealing with one more strange phenomenon, in addition to 
so many others, a testimony of a different kind, reinforcing 
from an unexpected quarter the witness of history, of the 
Church, of the supernatural morality and the quickening 
spiritual power of Christianity, and above all, of the sub- 
lime and unearthly conception of Him who stands in the 
midst of this homely group, God manifested among these 
men of the people. 

G. A. Chadwick. 


Nebuchadnezzar! At that dread name how terrible a 
form rises from its ancient grave ! The mighty conqueror 
of the antique eastern world stands before us illumined by 
three brief but vivid flashes of Scripture history ; otherwise 
he would be but a name. He built Babylon, adorned and 
fortified it so as to be the wonder of its time — of all time, 
as historians and travellers tell of its vastness and record 
its splendour ; nevertheless the builder of Babylon would be 
of small interest to us had he not destroyed Jerusalem, 
that little hill city ! Three times he laid his hands upon it, 
twice besieged it, again and again carried into captivity its 
kings, its princes, its priests. Some perished early on the 
dismal journey, slain before the stern conqueror at Eiblah, 
slain before the eyes of the last Hebrew king, ere those 


eyes were quenched for ever. It is a fearful story. To the 
custody of such a man the sacred people are consigned ; 
but their sacredness immediately enwraps him as with a 
sacred vesture. He has received from heaven that high 
guardianship ; he becomes forthwith God's minister. The 
Most High casts over him the shield of the Divine protec- 
tion ; nay, more, He visits him with visions of the night. 
To Nebuchadnezzar is revealed in a dream, and in its inter- 
pretation, the future of the world — the coming of the king- 
dom of Heaven I 

Let us look at the story as it has come to us. The great 
king dreams, but he wakes with the terror of a vision that 
he cannot recall. He rages at his inability. He rages all 
the more that the accredited revealers of secrets, with all 
their costly paraphernalia of divination, cannot help him. 
They shall not put him of? with any subterfuge. They shall 
die. If, as they say, none can show the thing except the 
gods, whose dwelling is " not with flesh," why, is it not 
their business to consult such powers? For what other 
purpose are they there but to deal with the occult, the 
mysterious, the awfulness above and around, — with those, 
whoever they are, whose dwelling indeed is "not with 
flesh," but whom their incantations should be able to reach 
and to compel ? A suspicion of falsity, .of long-sustained 
imposition, breaks upon his mind, and drives him to fury. 

But there has been sent to dwell within his palace walls 
one of the greatest heroes of the Hebrew faith, one destined 
to be from time to time the organ of Divine communication 
with this greatest of earthly potentates. Now for the first 
time, the captive Daniel, involved with his companions in 
the fate of the soothsayers, steps forward and asks for delay, 
purposing to appeal to One — the God of heaven, supreme 
as heaven itself — concerning this secret. Again it is night, 
again appears the vision, not now to Nebuchadnezzar, but 
to Daniel; and with the vision the interpretation thereof 

vol. ix. 29 


is made clear to his understanding. Brought before the 
king, he excuses the magicians among whom he has been 
enrolled, whose gods have failed them, but declares that 
" there is a God in heaven that revealeth secrets, and hath 
made known to the king Nebuchadnezzar what shall be in 
the latter days." " But as for me," he says, in effect, I am 
no diviner; "this secret is not revealed to me for any 
wisdom that I have more than any living." Let these 
others go. The interpretation is only given to me, " that 
thou mayest know the thoughts of thy heart." 

" Thou, O king, sawest, and behold a great Image ! " 
But we need not repeat the well-known description of the 
colossal Image, strange and terrible, that stood in dazzling 
brightness before the dreaming king. The head of fine 
gold, the breast and arms of silver, the belly and thighs of 
brass, the legs of iron, the feet of iron and clay, are familiar 
to us. Nor need we dwell upon the interpretation given, 
that these separate parts represented kingdoms — empires 
that were to rule in succession upon the earth. Enough to 
remark that we have the authority of the original interpreter 
for recognising in the first of them the sovereignty of Nebu- 
chadnezzar himself, " Thou art this head of gold," and that 
the second was that which should follow after him, unnamed, 
as are all the others. The particular identification of these 
is not to our purpose, though we may suppose that in the 
qualities of the different metals — as indeed we are told with 
respect to one of them, the iron — and also in the different 
portions of the body to which they are assigned, are sug- 
gested certain characteristics of the successive empires, 
affording a clue not very difficult to follow, to their verifica- 
tion in history. Our present object is to direct attention 
to this composite image as a whole, to what may be a 
symbolic rather than a definite historical meaning ; to take 
it as representing worldly power in its various forms, all 
— of them expressly the result of human wisdom, skill, and 


energy ; to note too the method of its destruction, and the 
nature of that which took its place. 

The great Image then, as it dazed the vision of Nebuchad- 
nezzar, shone one gigantic figure of a man. What was 
the expression of the countenance we are not told ; most 
likely it showed only emotionless repose, features without 
expression, symbolizing simply power, passive, immovable, 
remorseless — power that answers no questions, and demands 
only silent, unquestioning submission. Possibly, after the 
Assyrian manner, the Image stood in profile, one arm 
stretched forth, one leg advanced; and thus, fixing no 
gaze upon the beholder, remained the more inscrutable. It 
was entirely to outward view metallic, excepting the toes of 
brittle clay ; and the metals, whether gold, or silver, or brass, 
or iron, are all, we may remember, products of human labour 
and skill. They none of them exist otherwise ; the furnace 
and the alloy are required to fit them for human use. So 
much for the materials. But not only are these of human 
discovery and manufacture, but for an Image like that of the 
vision would be required the fashioning and fitting of each 
metal to its appointed place and function. The gold would 
need casting, or else beating into plates, or to be prepared 
for gilding the enormous head. The silver in like manner 
plated, or was wrought into semblance of arms and breast. 
Burnished brass built up the belly, and cuissed the thighs. 
Iron sheathed the legs, and was wrought partly into the feet 
that sustained the whole. 

Thus it stood a thing of human contrivance from head to 
foot ; even where metal failed, and potter's clay supplied its 
place, there was the modelling of toes. The whole was 
fashioned to represent the organic unity of a human frame, 
all its parts were there. Part by part, whatever was the 
diversity of material, was adjusted to its place, so that the 
man-form should be complete — a figure that, were it living, 
could think and act, could strike, and march to its end. It 



was a figure of colossal, unassailable strength, but for one 
element of weakness scarcely observable amidst its signs 
of power — the one flaw attaching to those insignificant 
members the toes. Yet this Image with its grandeur, 
splendour, and strength of material, has to be destroyed. 
How shall destruction come ? Shall axe or hammer come 
forth against it ? Shall heaven's lightning blast it ? Shall 
an earthquake shake it down ? 

By far other means. From a mountain side a Stone is 
loosened; stirred by no visible means, cut from the soil 
without hands, it begins to roll, and as it descends the 
steep it bounds and leaps towards the steadfast Image. 
Shall it strike the head of gold ? Shall it assail the silver 
breastplate ? No ; it simply drops upon the feet, incon- 
spicuous compared with the lofty bulk above— the feet 
wherein is the fatal flaw. They crumble with the blow, and 
then all fails. When the feet of iron and clay are crushed, 
the legs, despite their iron strength, bear up no longer. 
The body bows, the glorious head rolls in the dust, the 
whole lies in hideous ruin, and the winds arising sweep it 
all away. 

Between the Stone and the Image there is a notable 
contrast. We have pointed out the artificial character of 
the Image, an object of human manufacture; the Stone 
is a natural product. No mason's tool has touched it. It 
is of no recognisable or definite shape, such as human 
intelligence would have given. Age-long elemental powers 
have moulded and placed it on the precipitous steep above. 
The processes have been altogether secret, silent, by which 
it has been formed, and reached its destined size and place. 
The cause of its descent at last is not observable. What it 
does, if it destroyed a human life, would, in legal phrase, be 
called " the act of God." Then the Stone, its work accom- 
plished, takes the place of the destroyed statue, whose very 
fragments are to disappear, and, unlike the Image in its 


lifeless immobility, notwithstanding its man-like form, the 
Stone seems to have life in itself; it grows, it enlarges its 
base, it towers in height, till it fills the whole horizon of the 
sleeper's sight. 

This Stone which becomes a mountain receives, like the 
Image, its interpretation. As the Image represented human 
empire in a succession of kingdoms, so the Stone represents 
a kingdom, following upon, though in a measure contem- 
poraneous with, the others. It is a kingdom which the 
God of heaven will set up, and which destroys the others. 
For it may be noticed that the earlier kingdoms, though 
according to the interpretation of the vision they had in 
turn passed away, are yet included in the destruction finally 
dealt upon the Image, suggesting to us a larger understand- 
ing of the vision than we might at first suppose. The 
Image after all is one, though of diverse parts, and of inter- 
mediate application, as the Stone is one, though it becomes 
a mountain. 

The Stone, small as it is when it first comes to sight, 
is indeed that everlasting kingdom of God which in these 
latter days has been revealed. It is that kingdom which, 
coming not with observation, — as none would have noticed 
the Stone on the mountain side, — issuing from the secret, 
the eternal counsels of God, declares itself not in the glory 
of its power, but as a simple, unsuspected force. It is clad 
in no panoply of war. No catapult is required to launch 
the Stone, its momentum arises from the invisible action 
of a natural law. So the Divine kingdom makes no obvious 
assault, it uses no visible weapon ; even the Stone does not 
encounter the kingdoms of this world where they affront the 
sky, but with that economy of means and yet completeness 
of result which marks the Divine administration, it strikes 
upon the one weak spot in its adversary, that one strange 
flaw in the mighty Image. That flaw may have an historical 
and temporary import, as the narrative appears to intimate ; 


but larger meanings are common in Divine prophecy, and 
looking at the Image as a whole, may we not take this flaw 
to indicate some inherent, invariable defect in all worldly 
power? If so, does not the "iron mixed with miry clay" 
aptly represent that moral corruption through which the 
pomp and pride and military strength of empires constantly 
come to naught ? 

Some commentators suppose that the destroying blow is 
not yet given, since the kingdoms of this world have not yet 
fallen before the kingdom of our God. They view the Stone 
as still rolling down the mountain. They postpone the 
moment of collision till the end of this dispensation, when 
all opposing forces will have been swept away. This does 
not agree with the terms of the vision. The blow is given 
while as yet the kingdom of God is but a solitary Stone ; it 
is by growth only that the Stone becomes a mountain. We 
may well understand an interval during which the Image, 
smitten only on its feet, still stands erect, apparently 
untouched, and answering thus to the apparent stability 
for a time of earthly kingdoms, though already doomed to 

This kingdom of God, let us mark, is set forth as a king- 
dom against kingdoms. Yet it is not that of the sacred 
land. It is not the monarchy which had been destroyed in 
Jerusalem that will be re-established. It is not the throne 
of David which overturns these other thrones; or the 
throne of Solomon which outshines their splendour. It is 
no earthly kingdom, however sacred, no visible city of God 
which out-tops the Babylons of the world. It is something 
new, something wholly unlike any previous form of power. 
Apparently it is among the weak things of the world — 
as an untrimmed, unsquared stone, which a builder would 
refuse, yet, if chosen of God, is living and precious, fit to 
become the corner-stone of a glorious temple. Such a 
use of it here however would not be consonant with the 


purpose of the vision. No great building arises on the site 
of the destroyed statue. Such an ending would have 
injured the force of the contrast between God's work and 
man's work. The shapeless Stone changes, the dreamer 
sees not how. He dreams through ages, though he knows 
it not. In that sleep a thousand years are but as a watch 
in the night, and, behold, the Stone has become a mountain ! 
— a mountain dimly vast, whose base fills the earth, whose 
top reaches unto heaven ! How grandly does this set forth 
that kingdom which is altogether a Divine creation ! 

But however unlike earthly kingdoms, it is still a king- 
dom, which is foreshown to Nebuchadnezzar. As such it 
agrees with his ideas of power, and commends itself to his 
understanding. But it is a Divine purpose. That which 
appeared in the fulness of time was invariably declared 
to be a kingdom, an ordered rule — the rule of a King who, 
if He came at first without form or comeliness, despised 
and rejected, "is yet a King, who shall reign until all 
enemies are put under His feet." So also the conquering 
power of this kingdom is specially set forth in this vision 
given to a conqueror. That is what he would expect in a 
new kingdom ; it must overthrow and take the place of its 
predecessors. But how unlike in its warfare to the king- 
doms he has known is that which he beholds 1 How like 
to the kingdom which was to come ! 

That prefigured destruction of kingdoms certainly does not 
imply the dissolution of order and authority in human affairs. 
These were recognised as of Divine purpose, even in the 
despotic rule of Nebuchadnezzar and his successors. Never- 
theless Babylon remained the centre and type of influences 
inimical to the people of God — the people amongst whom 
that kingdom of heaven was to be established — and was 
subjected to the Divine judgments accordingly. In so far 
as the kingdoms of this world are antagonistic to the king- 
dom of God in principles or in practice, they are exposed 


to its destroying power, not otherwise. And in that respect 
we may believe that, not kingdoms only, but all institu- 
tions based solely upon human conceptions, formed only for 
human aggrandisement, associated in any degree with false- 
hood, injustice, lust, oppression, cruel force, — all systems 
of thought alien to the Divine Mind share in the irreme- 
diable defeat. There needs but a stone to roll down from 
the mountain of God's truth, that holy hill of Zion, that 
mountain of the Lord's house established in the top of the 
mountains, and, behold, the towering but baseless fabrics 
fall into fragments, and are ready to vanish away ! 

May we extend the parable still farther? Is it fanciful 
to discover in that ruthless dominion of science which 
distinguishes our era, that supremacy of intellect, that 
brilliance of achievement apart from moral progress, an 
apt resemblance to the head of gold — now apparently 
serenely secure, but whose downfall as the supreme arbiter 
in human affairs may arise from that " foolishness of God 
which is wiser than man " ? So may not the silver of a 
refined but irreligious civilization, the brass of social dis- 
tinction, the iron of despotism, when opposed to the Divine 
kingdom, be brought to naught before those " weak things, 
and things which are despised, which God hath chosen to 
confound the things which are mighty " ? In this sense the 
kingdom of God may still be but as a Stone that continually 
strikes and destroys. 

This phase of the kingdom however is to pass away. 
The assailing Stone becomes a mountain, and like unto a 
mountain shall the kingdom at last be established upon 
everlasting foundations — "a kingdom that shall never be 
moved," endowed with all the strength of the hills, girded 
with power, reposing in all the majesty of endless duration. 

The kingdom, its days of warfare over, is to be a kingdom 
of peace. As the mountain clothed in beauty rises into the 
serene heaven, is bathed in the light of heaven, a vision 


of rest and peace, so " the kingdom of God is righteous- 
ness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost " ; its King is 
the Prince of peace. 

The kingdom is to be a universal kingdom. All forms of 
power known to Nebuchadnezzar had their geographical 
limits. They were bounded by mountains or rivers. All 
religions were of local jurisdiction. The God of the Hebrews 
had been doubtless to Nebuchadnezzar but a tribal God ; Bel 
Merodach had his special home in Babylon. The vision 
referred to a God of heaven, high above all, of whom the 
Babylonian king could have had but a dim conception ; 
and to a kingdom which, like the mountain that filled the 
whole earth, should be wide as the cope of heaven above, 
wide as the world below. 

To us it " has been given to know the mysteries of the 
kingdom of heaven. " The Lord of that kingdom has likened 
it to leaven that, hid in an ephah, presently leavens the 
whole. He has likened it to a mustard seed which springs 
up into a mighty tree, upon whose branches the birds of the 
air make their lodging. He has told us that " the field is 
the world"; of seed cast into the earth that "groweth 
while a man sleeps, he knoweth not how," and of a great 
harvest. He has told us of His return after long absence 
to receive a kingdom. Of the glory and universality of that 
kingdom, prophets and apostles combine, to assure us ; and 
an angel announced that it should have "no end." What 
more perfect representation of that kingdom in its secret 
commencement, its peculiar conquering power, its eventual 
world-wide extension and glory, could have been given (if 
given in such a form at all) than in this ancient vision ? 
Is it not a parable of which none could have been the 
author save Him who, when He appeared on earth, spake 
in parables ? 

But was there ever such a vision? Did the God ol 
heaven of a truth reveal this thing to Nebuchadnezzar by 


the month of His servant Daniel ? or, does the whole story 
belong to what is termed " pseudepigraphical literature " ? 
" It can hardly be denied " (says a popular writer), " when 
prejudice is quite laid aside, that the facts point to a very 
clear conclusion, tu. that the book of Daniel is one of a 
class, and differs in quality rather than in kind from 
other works of the same class — a class of writings which 
sprang np in the days of national resistance to Antiochus 
Epiphanes. It was characteristic of this class of writings to 
appear under the name of some distinguished personality, 
Enoch, Moses, the patriarchs, and so on. There was no 
intention to deceive, any more than Milton wished to 
deceive when he put some of the noblest thoughts that 
have ever been uttered into the mouths of the persons in 
Paradise Lost. The faithful servants of God, who were 
resisting the blasphemous tyranny of Antiochus, were 
strengthened in their noble struggle by the glowing stories 
and marvellously beautiful visions which had marked the 
life of the great Daniel in Babylon." 

We are not here concerned with the authenticity of the 
book of Daniel, but since in the passage above it is plainly 
implied that Nebuchadnezzar's dream was only one of the 
"glowing stories" inserted in an altogether imaginative 
composition, we may be allowed a few words of comment. 
And for one thing, it is hard to understand how the ser- 
vants of God could be strengthened in the struggle they were 
maintaining by what was an acknowledged and accepted 
invention of their own time ! If, on the contrary, they 
believed the story to be a true record of a supernatural 
event such as had again and again occurred of old time 
in their nation's history ; if they believed it to contain a 
genuine prediction, through one of the greatest of their seers, 
of an everlasting kingdom, superseding all other kingdoms, 
which the God of their fathers would set up ; — they might 
well hold it as one of their strongest supports, little as they 



might have understood its nature. "Noble thoughts," 
uttered only by one of themselves, would be of small avail. 
It was by the great facts of the past that their faith and 
hope could alone be sustained. 

But not to dwell on this. Is it conceivable that so 
sublime a vision, with its profound spiritual significance, 
its far-reaching prophecy, even unto " the time of the end," 
was the invention of an age in which by common consent 
the prophetic function had ceased? Could it be the pro- 
duct of an age when creative genius had been succeeded 
by the imitative : of an age that lived on the past, and was 
busied only with compilation, the working up old materials, 
the elaboration of legend and marvel ? Could it belong to 
an age that was obliged to cast its lucubrations in some an- 
cient mould in order to attract attention and win respect ? 
Could it belong to a set of writings which, from certain char- 
acteristics have for ages been considered devoid of authority, 
and among which it has not hitherto been classed ? Lastly, 
was it appropriate to a time of desperate conflict with a 
heathen prince, to compose a story which makes a heathen 
.potentate the depositary of Divine secrets, and omits all 
reference to Jewish exaltation and conquest in the future ? 
To put these questions is, it seems to us, to answer them. 
If we are to judge literature by the circumstances of its 
time, this story could not have belonged to the time of 

On the other hand, the historical verity of the vision is 
not without confirmation when we remember the reported 
crisis of its occurrence. The visible kingdom of God had 
ceased, but, according to the story, it was immediately 
followed by a vision which points to a future invisible but 
most real kingdom of God — a restoration of the original 
theocracy, not in a limited and local, but in a universal 
sense, a completion thus of a great plan. This vision more- 
over is given to one, who, though the immediate destroyer 


of the visible, historic throne, had become the custodian 
of the sacred people, one of whose seers interprets to him 
its meaning. It most needs therefore win for the captives 
unusual respect, while they, through their great represen- 
tative, fulfil their ancient mission as depositaries of the 
Divine will, destined in due time to declare it to mankind. 

It is a conclusion in harmony with the whole history of 
this people that this dream really visited the great Baby- 
lonian ruler, and that it was, with its interpretation, a true 
revelation of the counsels of God. No ; we have not been 
sitting at the feet of a pseudepigraphical scribe, we have 
been listening to the eternal Word. 

Josiah Gilbert. 



The Acta Sanctorum form an unexplored mine of history, 
poetry, and romance. The historian finds there authentic 
records of life as lived amid the beginnings of European 
civilization. The poet can find there sweet songs — almost 
always of a sad and plaintive character; while as for 
romance and fable, they abound on every side. Among the 
romantic lives of the saints, those dealing with the Celtic 
missionaries stand pre-eminent. Fable, as we might expect, 
gathers thick round them. Adamnan's Life of St Columba 
for instance, abounds with stories, fabulous indeed, but 
beauteous and touching withal. Eomance too lends its 
charm, and among the most romantic lives, that of 
Columbanus, the apostle of Burgundy, Switzerland, and 
Italy, was the most striking and is the best authenticated. 
I have in another place sketched that career, beginning at 


the monastery of Bangor in the County Down, and ending 
at Bobbio in Northern Italy. 1 To that sketch I must refer 
the reader desirous of knowing the facts of his chequered 
life, directing now my attention to Columbanus as he was 
an expositor of Scripture. Let us first realize his epoch 
and assign him a local place, a definite era in our minds. 
Columbanus belonged to the latter half of the sixth and 
earlier part of the seventh century, the age of Mahomet 
and of Gregory the Great, and is a connecting link between 
expositors of the school of St. Patrick in the fifth and Sedu- 
lius and writers of his type in the eighth and ninth centuries. 
We shall use our study of Columbanus to reflect light back 
upon the darker age to which St. Patrick belongs. 

Columbanus was educated at the monastery of Bangor in 
the County Down, an institution which continued to flourish 
till long after English power was established in Ireland, 
though not a vestige of the ancient abbey now remains, 
and its very site is a disputed question. 3 As soon as he 
arrived at the years of manhood he was seized with a desire 
to propagate the gospel. Foreign missions were then the 
rage in the Celtic Church. Columba was evangelizing 
Scotland, and another Columba — for Columba, not Colum- 
banus, was the real name of our saint — determined to pursue 
the same course in Central Europe. 3 He left Bangor there- 
fore with St. Gall and eleven other followers, preached with 
great success in Central Europe, and founded the monastery 
of Bobbio, not far from Genoa, among the mountains of the 
Apennine range in the year 612. From that date the Abbey 

1 See Ireland and the Celtic Church, chap. vii. 

3 Bishop Pococke, about the year 1750, describes some few fragments of the 
abbey then in existence. See his MS. tour in Ireland, now in the library of 
Trinity College, Dublin. 

* What a fine opportunity would have been here for a German rationalistic 
critic, had these two Golumbas been first-century, and not sixth-century 
missionaries I How easily could their personality have been dissolved in the 
dove-like (Columba) spirit of the new religion which was spreading over the 
world ! 



of Bobbio became a great literary centre, and a chief wit- 
ness to ancient Celtic culture and devotion to expository 
studies. As I do not know of any convenient account of 
this ancient Celtic monastery, I shall be pardoned if I 
describe its manuscript resources and its still existing remains 
at some considerable length, for they prove the learning 
of the ancient Celtic Church to have surpassed that of any 
other branch of contemporary western Christendom. 

Bobbio was founded in 612. Its position — twenty-four 
miles S.W. from Piacenza in the valley of the Trebbia — 
is even still a lone and solitary one. Two centuries ago, 
when Mabillon visited it, he describes his journey thither 
as rough and difficult, over lofty mountains and through 
lonely valleys. And here, in passing, I may remark that 
with all our modern advances and discoveries, the true stu- 
dent will have much to learn from those chatty volumes, 
the Diarium Italicum and the Iter Italicum of the great 
French Benedictines Mabillon and Montfaucon. Sir James 
Stephen, in his Essays in Ecclesiastical Biography, has given 
a very charming account of Mabillon and his literary tours ; 
but it is only when one turns to the volumes themselves 
that we can at all realize the marvellous erudition of these 
monkish students, now so seldom consulted. The library 
of Bobbio is in some respects the most interesting, to us 
at least, in the world, for there we can learn the state of 
education and culture existing in our western islands more 
than one thousand years ago. Bobbio was founded by 
Celtic monks from Ireland, and during the first three cen- 
turies of its existence, down to the close of the ninth, it 
was continually replenished by Irish, or as they were then 
called, Scottish emigrants. We have too another most 
interesting point in connexion with Bobbio. Muratori, in 
the third volume of his great work on Italian antiquities, 
has preserved a catalogue of the Bobbio library, drawn 
up in the tenth century. It is a marvellous proof of the 


erudition of the members of that monastery, filling several 
of Muratori's pages with lists printed in the closest possible 
order. The Irish monks were no narrow students ; their 
minds ranged over every branch of literature. In their 
catalogue we find patristic literature, Greek and Latin, the 
works of Augustine, Athanasius, John Chrysostom, Eusebius, 
Hilary, Origen, and Cyprian ; Latin and Greek historians, 
poets and orators, Homer, Virgil, Horace, Lucan, Juvenal, 
Cicero, Fronto ; geographers, mathematicians, musicians ; 
while they were not forgetful withal of the country whence 
they had come out, they were not forgetful or incurious 
about their own, but duly installed in the place of highest 
honour the works of their founder Columbanus, the Hymn- 
book of their parent monastery of Bangor, commonly called 
the Antiphonarium Benchorense, the writings of Adamnan, 
the Abbot of Iona, and the encyclopaedic volumes of the 
Venerable Bede. I have spoken of this library as still exist- 
ing, and indeed its history is almost a romance. It con- 
tinued to flourish all through the Middle Ages, preserving 
even in the darkest periods a flavour and reminiscence of its 
ancient culture. Its contents seem to have been frequently 
surveyed, as Peyron, in the beginning of this century, dis- 
covered another catalogue made in the year 1461, in addi- 
tion to the tenth-century one already known. In the early 
years of the seventeenth century the library changed its 
locality. Cardinal Frederic Borromeo, a munificent patron 
of learning, was then presiding over the see of Milan. It 
was $n age marked all over Europe by a devotion to studies 
and a prodigal liberality in their encouragement. Kings 
like our own James I. and Henry IV. of France pensioned 
learned men, such as Casaubon, that they might have time 
to prosecute their researches. Prelates like Laud and 
Ussher spent their revenues in scouring Oriental monasteries 
for ancient manuscripts, maintaining agents in Smyrna, 
Constantinople, and Alexandria for that purpose. 


It is to that age we owe the discovery of some of our 
most valued treasures and the foundation of some of our 
greatest libraries. It was just the same in Italy, where 
Cardinal Borromeo spent vast sums in building the 
Ambrosian library, and furnishing it with books and manu- 
scripts. With this end in view, he cast his eye upon 
Bobbio, bestowed rich gifts upon the monastery, and in 
exchange became possessor of the greatest portion of its 
famous library, leaving behind only about one hundred 
volumes, which Mabillon saw and inspected on the occasion 
of his visit to Bobbio. In the Ambrosian library the Bobbio 
collection was often visited during the seventeenth and 
eighteenth centuries. The Irish manuscripts were a puzzle 
to the antiquarians of the last century. The Celtic monks 
were good Latin and Greek scholars, but they, like many 
a modern student, often interspersed their books with mar- 
ginal notes couched in the Irish language, glosses, explana- 
tions, prayers to favourite saints — especially St. Bridget 
— and notes upon even the most trivial matters, the time 
of day, the hour of dinner, or the state of the weather. 1 
These Irish glosses and notes greatly puzzled French and 
German scholars. They ascribed them to the Anglo- 
Saxons, and called them Anglo-Saxon characters. They 
credited them to the Lombards, and never dreamt of trac- 
ing them to the right source. We, however, cannot wonder 
at this. The knowledge of Celtic is even now not widely 
spread. Fifty years ago its possessors could be counted on 
the fingers. A century and a half ago it was regarded as a 
barbarous jargon unworthy the attention of civilized men, 
devoid of a literature or of a history. Still something valu- 
able was brought to light. Muratori discovered the Mura- 
torian Fragment, the oldest historical witness to the gospel 
canon, copied by an Irish monk in the seventh century 
from some early Christian manuscript. He found, too, the 

1 S*e Zeuss, Gran. CWk, pmL, pp. xi M xii. 



Bangor psalter, composed in the seventh century, whence 
the most popular hymn-book of the Church of England has 
derived the hymn, beginning — 

" Draw nigh and take the Body of the Lord, 
And drink the holy Blood for you outpoured, 
Saved by that Body and that holy Blood, 
With souls refreshed, we render thanks to God." 

The period of almost romantic discovery was, however, 
yet to come for the ancient Bobbio library. Cardinal Mai 
Was one of the greatest scholars the Church of Borne 
has produced during this century. The volumes he pub- 
lished are well-nigh numberless. His various collections, 
in their very titles — the Scriptorum Veterum Nova Col- 
lectio, the Spicilegium Bomanum, and the Nova Patrum 
Bibliotheca — sufficiently indicate the industry and learning 
of that eminent prelate. In later life he was the librarian 
of the Vatican. In earlier life he was the librarian of the 
Ambrosian library, where he made discoveries which give 
us a glimpse not only of the learning but also of the straits 
and poverty of the ancient Celtic monks, and show us at the 
same time what invaluable manuscript materials they pos- 
sessed. While all Europe was convulsed by the Napoleonic 
wars, Mai was studying the Bobbio books, and in the course 
of his investigation ascertained that a good many of them 
were palimpsests. The Celtic monks in the seventh and 
eighth centuries were sorely in want of writing material. 
The supply of papyrus from Egypt had ceased since the Sa- 
racen conquest, 1 but they possessed a large supply of ancient 
books written on vellum. These they took, rubbed off the 
ancient writing, or washed it away, and then wrote their 
own Christian documents which they esteemed more impor- 
tant than the original text. The disciples of Columbanus 
must have been in sore distress when they thus treated some 
of their ancient books, for they preserved the vast majority 

1 See Scrivener's Introduction, p. 24. 
VOL. IX. 3° 



most carefully. And some of them were very ancient and 
very precious too. Orations of Cicero, lost for ages to the 
modern world, were thus treated by the monks, and recovered 
by Mai. The monks took a Cicero originally written in the 
second or third century, and in the eighth century wrote over 
Cicero's brilliant periods, which they partially erased, the 
devouter sentiments of the Christian poet Sedulius, who 
flourished in the fifth. The works of Fronto were similarly 
treated, and similarly restored by the learned cardinal. 
Fronto was the friend, tutor, and associate of the imperial 
philosophers Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius, with 
whom Fronto maintained a very lively correspondence. His 
letters were collected and published in a volume some time 
in the third or fourth century, a copy of which found its way 
to Bobbio. The monks of the eighth century had no special 
interest, however, in the correspondence of pagans, so they 
took the fourth-century volume, rubbed out the writing, 
and inserted instead a copy of the Acts of the Council of 
Chalcedon, a.d. 457, which were of much more interest and 
importance to themselves. Mai's discoveries created a great 
sensation at the time. Great expectations were raised, and 
people thought they would have received most valuable light 
upon the history of the second century from the imperial 
and philosophic correspondence. The pure classical scholar, 
forgetting his vast obligations to the monks and the monas- 
teries for all they had preserved, saw in their conduct 
a typical instance of narrowness and stupidity. And yet 
Wisdom was justified, in this instance at least, of her child- 
ren, for when the letters were published they were found 
to be of almost trivial importance, and the judgment of the 
sons of St. Columbanus was amply vindicated. I cannot 
now indeed enlarge further on this point, which relates to 
the discovery of classical palimpsests, and belongs rather 
to the region of the Classical Review than to that of Thb 
Expositor. The work, however, begun under Mai's 


auspices, has been since continued, and of later years under 
the direction of Ceriani, Ascoli, and other learned men, 
has produced some remarkable results in various directions 
of scholarship. I may just mention for the advantage of 
the diligent student whose curiosity may have been aroused, 
that a very interesting account of Mai's discoveries will 
be found in the preface to that learned prelate's Ciceronis 
Opera Inedita, published some seventy or eighty years ago. 
One point, indeed, is plain and manifest, and it is a most 
important one. The Bobbio library in the seventh century 
possessed a number of documents dating back to the year 
200 a.d., some of them classical, others of them sacred and 
ecclesiastical like the Muratorian Fragment, or rather the 
work of which it originally formed a part. If that could 
only be discovered what a treasure we should possess ! The 
Bobbio library preserved for us in fact some remnants of 
the ancient libraries of North Italy. We often wonder 
what has become of all the gold and silver ever coined since 
money became current with the merchant. People often 
wonder what has become of all the books ever printed, and 
if they only knew the true state of the case, they would 
wonder even still more at what has become of all the libra- 
ries which existed in ancient times. It is a common notion 
that books were few and far between, because in ancient 
times there were no printing presses; while, on the contrary, 
books seem as a matter of fact to have been quite abundant. 
Every city and large town had a public library, some towns 
quite a number of such institutions. Every rich man's 
house was furnished with a library as a necessary part of its 
equipment, often as little used, and as really unnecessary as 
in more modern mansions. Seneca rebukes the rage of his 
day for heaping together a vast quantity of expensive books, 
" the very catalogues of which their owner has never read 
in his whole life " ; while that bitter scoffer Lucian, a cen- 
tury later, laughs heartily at the uneducated rich for their 


useless extravagance in this direction, in a treatise ad- 
dressed IIpos a-rraiheirrov iccu voXXa {3if3\Ja mvovpevow. Italy 
was in the first and second centuries filled with public 
libraries. Pliny in one of his charming letters tells us of a 
man who published his son's life, had an edition of a thou- 
sand copies struck off, and then distributed them gratis to 
all the libraries of Italy. What became of all these libraries 
and their contents ? Making every allowance for fire and 
loss sustained through barbarian invasions, there must have 
been vast remains of these ancient collections still in exis- 
tence when Columbanus founded the Bobbio library. 1 

But here some one may naturally say, This is all very 
interesting as bearing on the classical learning of the Celtic 
monks, but what has it to do with them as students of 
Holy Writ and as expositors of its teachings? In reply 
I would say that I have brought forward these facts simply 
to establish the general culture of the ancient Celtic wor- 
thies, whose secular studies were never allowed to interfere 
with their devotion to sacred truth, for they were inde- 
fatigable in their multiplication of copies of Holy Scripture 
and of commentaries upon the same. 3 The followers and 
disciples of Columbanus were prominent in this great work, 
and modern learning owes much to their diligence. A 

1 On the subject of ancient libraries, the reader may consult an article on 
Pompeii, in Journal de$ Savants for July, 1881, p. 406. 

2 The culture of St. Columbanus himself must have been of a very extensive 
kind,- as far at least as classical studies were concerned. His poems, for in- 
stance, as contained in all the collections of his works, and accessible in a bandy 
shape in Migne's Patrologia or Fleming's Collectanea, abound in evidences of 
his scholarship. His first poem is ail Epistle to a certain Hunaldus, one of his 
disciples. It contains thoughts and expressions drawn from Ovid, Horace, and 
Prudentius, though it measures only seventeen hexameter lines. The second 
poem contains allusions to Horace, Seneca, Prudentius, Juvenal, Ovid, Virgil. 
A study of the other poems, annotated as they have been by Sirmond and 
Canisius, will yield similar results, proving Columbanus to have been an 
accomplished classical scholar. Now as he did not leave Ireland upon his 
foreign mission till he was long past forty, he must have gained this knowledge 
under St. Comgall at the Abbey of Bangor, where the best classical authors 
must have been subjects of daily study in the middle of the sixth century. 


glance at the Introduction to New Testament Criticism, 
published by Westcott and Hort, or by Scrivener, will amply 
prove this statement. They multiplied copies of the Scrip- 
tures in Latin and in Greek. The Monastery of St. Gall 
was founded by a member of the School of St. Columbanus 
— his disciple St. Gall, after whom it was called. To it 
we owe the celebrated Codex Sangallensis, still preserved 
in that monastery; and the Codex Boernerianus now at 
Dresden, which, however, is only a part of the St. Gall 
manuscript, this latter containing the Four Gospels, as the 
Dresden document the Epistles of St. Paul. To the Irish 
monastery of Eeichenau, on the Lake of Constance, is due 
the Codex Augiensis, which, like the St. Gall MS., is a 
Greek uncial copy of the Epistles of St. Paul with a Latin 
version in parallel columns. The Bobbio monks devoted 
themselves to the multiplication of the Latin translation, 
such Celtic work being always distinguished, whether in 
these islands or abroad, by the beautiful capitals with which 
the writers interspersed their texts. 1 Some of these manu- 
scripts — all of which come from about the same period, the 
seventh to the ninth centuries — contain most interesting 
marginal notices, illustrating the history of doctrines and 
doctrinal changes, or else giving us glimpses of the social 
life and habits of that distant time. St. Gall, for instance, 
was an intense Augustinian, and taught predestinarian views 
in the most extreme forms. He lived in the seventh century, 
but in the ninth century his followers, like certain moderns, 
had revolted from his teaching and gone over to the opposite 
party. This is manifest from some notes which the monks 
attached to various texts which the predestinarian party 
quoted in defence of their views or felt as difficulties, as 
for instance John xii. 39, 40, " Therefore they could not 
believe, because that Esaias said again, He hath blinded 

1 See for instance the Books of Durrow and Kells in the Library of Trinity 
College, Dublin. 


their eyes, and hardened their heart ; that they should not 
see with their eyes, nor understand with their heart, and 
be converted, and I should heal them," and on texts like 
Romans iii. 5, " But if oar unrighteousness commend the 
righteousness of God, what shall we say? Is God unright- 
eous who taketh vengeance?" 1 Corinthians ii. 8, "Which 
none of the princes of this world knew : for had they known 
it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory," and 1 
Timothy ii. 4, " Who will have all men to be saved, and to 
come unto the knowledge of the truth," which last of course 
constituted a difficulty to an Augustinian, because it asserts 
God's desire that all should be saved and come to eternal 
salvation. 1 Upon all these and several other verses the St. 
Gall scribes inserted marginal notes warning their readers 
against the heretical teaching of Gottschalk, the leader of 
the extreme predestinarian party in the ninth century. St. 
Gall's Monastery however has not been the only institution 
which has thus performed a theological somersault in the 
course of two centuries and quite reversed the teaching of 
its founders. All the Celtic monks, we must at the same 
time remember, did not follow the example of those of St. 
Gall ; for Sedulius belonged to that period and still clung to 
the ancient Irish view, upholding an extreme Augustinianism 
which might have satisfied John Calvin or the fathers of the 
Westminster Assembly. 

But the most interesting of the St. Gall notes is one in 
the document containing St. Paul's Epistles, now at Dres- 
den. This manuscript was, as I have said, once in St. Gall's 
Monastery, where it was written by Irish monks, as appears 
from some curious Celtic lines contained therein, which Dr. 
Scrivener gives on p. 170 of his Introduction to the Criti- 
cism of the New Testament. They are written in old Irish, 
and long puzzled the learned men of the Continent till 
a great Celtic scholar, the late Dr. John O'Donovan, the 

1 See Scrivener, f.c, p. 151. 


translator of the Four Masters into English, was consulted, 
when he at once explained their meaning. Dr. Scrivener 
gives O'Donovan's translation with corrections by Dr. Todd 
and the Eev. Eobert King. The verses run thus in the 
English version : 

"To come to Rome, to come to Rome, 
Much of trouble, little of profit; 
The thing thou seekest here, 
If thou bring not with thee, thou findest not. 

Great folly, great madness, 

Great ruin of sense, great insanity, 

Since thou hast set out for death, 

That thou shouldest be in disobedience to the Son of Mary." 

These stanzas were written of course by an Irishman, for 
they are in the Irish language. Mr. King suggested that 
they were composed by an Irish bishop named Marcus, who 
went to Eome on a pilgrimage in company with his nephew 
Moengal. Upon their return from Eome they called at 
St. Gall, where the bishop and his nephew remained as 
residents, bestowing their books on the monastic library, 
and sending their servants and their horses home to Ire- 
land. This however is a mere conjecture ; the lines them- 
selves give us facts. 1 They show us that pilgrimages to 
Eome were made by monks from Ireland in the eighth and 
ninth centuries. We know that it was just the same with 
the Celts two centuries earlier. St. Laserian of Old Leigh- 
lin, Cummian a Columban monk, the author of a learned 
epistle on the Paschal question, still extant, both visited 
Eome in the first half of the seventh century. And the 
fashion of pilgrimage to the tombs of the Apostles Peter 
and Paul never died out in Ireland, though like many an 
Irishman since that time, the Celtic author of the stanzas 
quoted above seems to have returned very discontented 

1 The visit of the Celtic bishop and his nephew to St. Gall is an undoubted 
fact. It is mentioned by a contemporary chronicler, Ekkehardus. See Pertz, 
Monumenta ii., p. 78. 


with his Roman visit. 1 He went to Rome doubtless as 
Lather did, expecting to find it the very centre and seat of 
holiness incarnate, and in his own emphatic language he 
found " to come to Rome much of trouble, little of profit." 
He went to Rome expecting to find God's presence and His 
peace there specially revealed. The ancient delusion was 
there dispelled for him that God draws nearer one place 
than another. Peace with God was at last realized by 
this ancient Celt as found in the islands of the ocean as 
readily as in the ecclesiastical capital of the West. The 
words, "The thing thou seekest here, if thou bring not with 
thee thou findest not," are an echo of the blessed teaching 
of the Master Himself to the Samaritan inquirer: "The 
hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor 
yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father. God is a Spirit : 
and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit 
and in truth." 

George T. Stokes. 

1 The dedications of the ancient cathedral of Glendalough and of the mona- 
' stery of Bobbio were the same, in honour of the Apostles Peter and Paul. The 
usual dedications of ancient Celtic churches were in honour of purely local 
Celtic saints. 



Rev. Professor Joseph Agar Beet. 

Epaphroditus and the Gift from Philippi .... 64 

Rev. Professor A. B. Bruce, D.D. 

The Epistle to the Hebrews : 

VI. The Way of Salvation 81 

VII. Christ and Moses 161 

VIII. The Gospel of Rest 272 

IX. Christ not a Self-elected, but a God-appointed 

Priest 351 

X. The Teacher's Complaint 415 

Very Rev. G. A. Chadwick, D.D. 
The Group of the Apostles : 

1 100 

II. Peter 187 

III. The Minor Figures 434 

Rev. F. H. Chase, M.A. 

Christian Interpolations in Jewish Writings . . .179 

Rev. Professor T. K. Cheyne, D.D. 
Brevia : 

La Langue Parl6e par N. S. Jesus-Christ sur la Terre 23S 

Rev. Professor S. Ives Curtiss, D.D., Ph.D. 

Recent Old Testament Literature in the United States . 235 

Rev. Professor A. B. Davidson, D.D., LL.D. 

" Crowned with Glory and Honour " . . . .115 

Rev. Professor Franz Delitzsch, D.D. 
The Deep Gulf between the Old Theology and the New 42 

In Self-Defence : Critical Observations on my Hebrew 
New Testament : 

1 135 

II., Ill 310 


474 INDEX. 


Rev. Marcus Dods, D.D. 
Recent English Literature on the New Testament 75, 316 
Farrar's Lives of the Fathers 232 

Rev. Professor S. R. Driver, D.D. 

Notes on Three Passages in St. Paul's Epistles ... 15 
The Double Text of Jeremiah 321 

Ven. Archdeacon F. W. Farrar, D.D., F.R.S. 

The Last Nine Chapters of Ezekiel 1 

St. James the Apostle 241 

Rev. Professor G. G. Findlay, B.A. 
Jesus Crowned for Death 222 

Josiah Gilbert. 

The Image and the Stone . 449 

Rev. Augustus Jessopp, D.D. 

Primitive Liturgies and Confessions of Faith . . . 401 

Rev. Ed. G. King, D.D. 
TheHallel 121 

Rev. Professor J. Rawson Lumby, D.D. 

Old Testament Criticism in the Light of New Testament 
Quotations 337 

Rev. Professor W. Milligan, D.D. 
The Priesthood and Priestly Service of the Church . 200 

Joseph John Murphy. 

Two Parables 290 

Rev. W. W. Peyton. 
The Bread Problem of the World, Our Lord's First 
Temptation 369 

Professor W. M. Ramsay, M.A. 
Early Christian Monuments in Phrygia : a Study in the 
Early History of the Church : 

III 141 

IV 253 

V 392 

Rev. F. Rendall, M.A. 
The Scriptural Idea of Priesthood embodied in Successive 
Types 24 



Rev. T. G. Selby. 
Professor Huxley and the Swine of Gadara 


Brevia : Second Twilights and Old Testament Miracles 
Rev. Professor George T. Stokes, D.D. 

Ancient Celtic Expositors 461 

The Editor. 

Professor Cheyne 55 


Genesis vii. 18-20 
Exodus xix. 6 . 
xxi. 6 . 
xxviii. 36, 43. 
xxix. 21. 
Leviticus xvii.-xxvi. 
Numbers xx. 17 . 
Joshua x. 12 
2 Chronicles xxvi. 16-21 
Jobv. 13 . 
xlii. 6. 
Psalm viii. 

viii. 2 

xl. . 

lxvi. 3 . 

lxviii. 18 . 






cxxxiii. . 

cxxxix. . 
Ecclesiastes iii. 11 
Isaiah v. 1 . 

vi. 5 

xxxviii. 8 
Jeremiah . 
Ezekiel xl.-xlviii. 




Ezekiel xliv. 1-4 

. 134 


Daniel'ii. 31 

. 448 


iv. 23,29 

. 811 


xii. 2 

. 313 


Hoseaxiii. 14 

. 134 


Amos ix. 11, 12 . 

. 344 


Zechariah xii. 10 

. 345 


Matthew iv. 3 . 

. 369 


viii. 28 

. 303 


ix.9 . 

. 445 


x. 2 . 

. 103 


x. 3 . 

438, 439, 443 


x. 4 . 

. 435 


x.5 . 

. 105 



. 346 


xiv. 30 

. 188 


xv. 23 . 

. 107 


xvi. 13-17 

. 195 


xvi. 16 

. 110 


xix. 27 

. 290 


xx. 16 . 

. 290 


xx. 22 . 

. 248 


xxi. 16 

. 340 


xxvi. 27 

. 121 


xxvi. 39-44 

. 131 


xxvi. 42 

. 130 


Mark iii. 16 

. 103 


vi. 29 . 

. 106 


vii. 15 • 

. 109 





r««* .... Ill 

1 Oct. xt, 27 

. 3*2 

x. 32 

. 1*4 

2 Om. rr. 13 

. 131 


. 103 

▼iii. 1.2 . 

. e* 

xir. 41 

. 24* 


. 4*7 

xt. 47 

. 244 



I^k* i. 1-4 

. 401 L 19 - 

. 437 

t. 5 - 

. 188 

n.20 . 



. 70 


. 18 


. 103 

Ephesiau zH. 14 

. 411 

jx. 55 

. 248 

iT. 8 . 

*>. 345 

XT. - 

. 311 

PLiiippianj L 7. IZ . 


XT. 11-32 

. 2V0 

L29 . 

. 117 

xxir. 18 

. 244 


. 230 

John L 14 . 

. 117 

iii. 6 . 

. 296 

L40 . 

. 440 

iii. 20. 21 . 

. 2t»2 

i.43 . 

. 442 

iT. 10 


i-50 . 

. 438 

CcloMisiis i. 24 . 

. 212 

it. 6 . 

. 104 

1 Thessalonians iii. 11. 12 

. 182 

Tl. 51 

. 313 

iT. 2. 

. 4« 

Tit. 5 

. 244 

i t. 8 . 

. 1>4 

xiL 22 

. 441 

; 2 Thessalonians ii. 1-12 . 

. 1*) 

xi*. 8 

. 443 


. 1«2 

xt. 5 . 

. 200 

1 Timothy iii. 9 . 

. 412 

XT. 15 

. 105 

2 Timothy iii- 8 . 

. 403 

xth. 18 

. 201 

Hebrews ii. 3-9 . 

. 342 

xix. 25 

. 244 

ii. 5-9 . 

. 222 

xix. 27 

. 245 


. 115 

xix. 37 

. 345 

ii. 11-18 

. 81 

xxi. 17 

. 189 


. 161 

xxi. 18 

. 188 

IT. . 

. 272 

Acti i. 13 . 

. 103 

V.l . . . 


iT. 13 

. 188 

T. 1-10 . 

. 351 

t. 41 . 

. 117 


36, 121 

ti. 4 . 

-. 405 

T. 10 . 


vi. 7 . 

. 401 

t. 7,8 . 

. 131 

xiii. 1U 

. 401 

T. 11-14 

. 415 


. 343 

vi. 1-8 . 

. 415 

XT. 6 . 

. 405 

ix. 28 . 

. 131 

xv. 20 

. 404 

x.14 . 

. 40 

xviii. 25 


. 401 

x. 19-22 

. 204 

xix. 19 

. 402 

xi. 40 . 

. 39 

Romans ii. 17 

. 410 

James i. 5 . 

. 293 

viii. 2 


2 Peter i. 1G 

. 117 

1 Cor. Hi. . 

. 349 

1 John v. 17 

. 298 

iii. 19 

. 345 

Revelation xiT. 13 

. 281 

x. 4. 

. 15 

xxi. 4 

. 281 

xiii. 2 

. 409 



But let * Turner. The *>lwood Printing Works. Pronae. and Loudon 

UNIV. <- 'iC -IQAN, 

mav :u 1913 




3 9015 06432 7185