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JOURNAL 



SACRED LITEEATUEE 



BIBLICAL RECORD. 



EDITED BY 

THE EEV. HENRY BURGESS, LL.D., Ph.D., 



LONDON : 
ALEXANDER HEYLIN, PATERNOSTER ROW. 

EDINBURGH: W. OUPHANT AND CO. DUBLIN: S. B. OLDHAM. 



D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



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INDEX 



VOLUME THE TENTH. 



Ciraroh o 
21. 



Aaron, explanation of tbs name of, 432. 

Alexandrine Codex, new edition of,226. 

Alford, Dean, bia opinion of the au- 
tbenticity of the Epiblle to the He- 
brews, 420; Mb oLaimaon the respect 
of scholars, 42S. 

Alphabet, universal, 386. 

American criticism on tbe Bampton 
Lectures, 211. 

American Clergy and the Episcopal 
f.i.__.i _.. .ig Apostles' Creed, 20, 



Analysis of the Emblems of St. John, 

71, 345. 
Ancient and modern commentaries on 

the Holy Scriptures, 284. 
Ancient statutes, 463. 
Angel of Jehovah, the, 466. 
Angb-Saxon tombs, 236. 
Apocalypse, the, and the Papacy, 4. 
Apocalyptic visions and Napoleon III., 

5 ; the boast and Napoleon I., 8. 
Apostles' Creed, alterations in, 19. 
Apostles, the, and haman relations, 

119; their teaching subversive of 

slavery, 123. 
Arnold on sin and trospass offerings, 

255. 



Asoher's Hebrew labours, 192. 
Assyria, remarks on its history, 136; 

Dr. Ilincks on, 151 ; refinement of 

tastes in, 153 ; Anherlen and De 

Wette on, 153. 
Aagostine's precept to elaveholdcrs, 

131. 



Babylonian refinement, 163. 

Bampton Lectures, remarks on Mr. 
Mansel's, 200. 

Baptized for the dead, wbo were they? 
395. 

Barrow, Dr., works of, 235. 

Bible history confirmed by an Egyp- 
tian seal, 227 ; remarks on, 388. 

Bible-printing monopoly, 211; evidence 
on, 212. 

Bible translations in French, devia- 
tions from the English, 437. 

Bibles, their infenority in stj'le in 
America, 213; their circulation in 
Scotland, 220. 

Biblia Pauperum, reproduction of, 227. 

BisbopIIorsley'sand Henshaw's charge 
against Calvin, 28. 

Bishop of Blois and slavery, 115. 

Blasphemons reference to Christianity 
in ancient Rome, 470. 



,Cooi^[c 



A^■^■•■"6;30 



INDEX TO THE TENTH VOLUME. 



Blood-reveDgB among the Hebrews, 
381. 

BoDaparte, Prince Lnciaa, bis Scrip- 
tare tiaDBlatione, 227. 

Book of Common Piayer, it« reriHion 
in America, 21. 

Brotherly (joonEel to Btodents, 174. 

Brown, FrofeBsor, on Christian feith, 
450. 

Bunaen'B Eeyptian history, G3 ; his 
dates of the creation and rectifica- 
tion of Bible history, 55 ; his opinion 
of the compilation of the Scrintares, 
58 ; hia pottery calcaUtion, 6S ; his 
Egyptian chronology, 59. 



n Church, the, and the hours 
of labonr, 131. 

Christian Knowledge Society, its la- 
bours on the LXX., 160; 1(8 report 
on, 164. 

Christianity and slavery, 1 1 1 ; their 
incompatibilitr with each other, 116. 

Chronology, Khiical, theories of, 310. 

Chronology of the LXX. contradicted 
by the Hebrew Scriptures, 311, 

ChryBostom'B address to aerronts, 132. 

Charch, the, and slavery, 132. 

Clinton and the ancient archouB, 324. 

Codex Alexandrinna, new edition of, 
226. 

Codei Vatioanns, remarks on the, 220. 

Commentators, modem, and theii irre- 

Confirmation of Bible history, 388. 
Connexion between the histories of 

Qreece and Assyria, 239. 
Correspondence, 136, 386. 
Crates and Blavery, 127. 
Cureton, Dr., remarks 

veraion, 154, 378. 



1 his Byriac 



Daniel, interpretation of, 473. 

David, life and ehaiacter of, 454. 

Decline of Jodaism, 229. 

Descent of Jesus into hell, in the Apos- 
tles' Oeed, 17 ; iti history traced, 
19 ; ffishop Horsle; on, 36. 



DifTerenee twtweei) Qrecian and East- 
em philosophieB, 103. 

Discrepancy in dates between chrono- 
logists, 313, 327. 

Doctrine of a trinity universal, 230. 



■H IIAAAIAAUeHKH, remarks on, 160. 
Ecclesiastes, Dr. Buchanan on, 410. 
Egypt, history of, 63 ; list of kings of. 



Fanssett, Dr., on chronology, 412. 
Feet-washioK, 197. 
Field, Mr., his editorial labours, 161. 
French, tbe Emperor of the, and the 

Revelatic- ' 

renob Bib 

436 ; deviation 



G 

Qibeonites, history of the, 276. 
Giidemei8t«r's correctness, 154, 
GiMllan on Bpenscr and Banyan, 451. 
Gospel, the, and slavoir, 113, 116, 135. 
Oospels, Jewish remarks on the, 155. 
Gothic Ecclesiastical Architecture, 198. 
Grammar of Now Testament diction, 
170. 



Greeks, the, and the Hivites, 2 



Hebrew race, characieristicB of, 471. 
Hebrews, the, commentariea on the 
laws of, 194 ; blood-revenge among. 



...CbyCOOl^lc 



INDEX TO THE TENTH VOLUME. 



Hebrews, the EpUtle to, anthorehip 

of, 392; whowaitheautlior? 420; 
LaQier'B denial of it as the noik of 
an apoBtle, 42 1 ; Dean Alfard and 
Tholuck on, 422. 

Herele'B history of councils, 172. 

HeU, the descent of Christ into, 17 ; 
Calvin on the metapbortoal interpre- 
tation of, 28. 

Henderson, Ber. £., aemoii' of, 184; 
his laboara in Sweden, 186. 

Hincks, Dr., on Assyrian history, 151. 

HiBtory, Egyptian, 53. 

Hivites, history of the, 266; their lan- 
guage, 268; notmdaries of tholr land, 



270. 



I new edition 



IgDEttian epistles, Dr. Killen on, 398. 
Intelligence, 200, 454. 
Interpretation of Daniel, 473. 
Irencns and Greek namerals, 10; on 

the Apostles' Creed, 18; on prophecy, 

311. 



_...._. . . ,.„._, m. 

Jehovah, the angel • 

Jerasalem, Jesqs in, no. 

Jesus and slavery, 116. 

Jewish comments on the Gospels, 156. 

Jews, persecution of by Trajan, 40S; 

also by Haman, 468. 
Joaephns as a chronologer, 316. 
Jndah, lift of kings of, 389. 
Jadaism, decline of, 229. 
Julias A&icanns and Mr. Parker, 322. 



Ealiach, Dr., remarks on his Gospel 



KiUen, Dr., and the I^atian Epistles, 

398 ; his presumption and self-con- 

fidenCB, 399. 
Kings of Egypt and Jndah, list of, 

389. 
Kitto, Dr., on blood-revenge, 281. 
Koran, the acconnt of, 190. 
Kurt«, Dr., on the Pentatench, 405. 



Laboar, the bonra of, shortened by tha 

Christian Church, 131. 
Lanny, Profesior, his Byriao labours, 

273. 
Xiancashire dialect, 8ong of Bongs in, 

227. 
Land, Dr., remark* by, on the Core- 

tonian version of St. Matthew, 154. 
Latin numerals and Napoleon III., S. 
Limits of religious thoughts, contem- 

farary opinions on, 200. 
Lttle knowledge is a dangerous 
thing," 103,104, 
Lather's deuiol of the Epistle to the 
Hebrews as an apostle's work, 421. 



Mai, Cardinal, his literary abilities, 
166. 

Mansel, Mr., his lectures, 200 ; general 
comments on, 201 ; on divine revela- 
tion, 447. 

MasBou on New Testament writers, 
170. 

Maurice, Mr., his remarks on Sir W. 
Hamilton, 179 ; his habits of wool- 
gathering, 181, 184. 

Max Miiller's Sanscrit labonrs, 431. 

Median history, remarks on, 136. 

Mu-acles, Professor Powell on, 459. 

Modem prophetical literature, 1. 

Modern versions of the Scriptures, 
227. 



Napoleon III. and the Apocalypse, 6. 
Neander and the world's advance, 104. 
New foreign works publidied, 245, 

478; English, 246, 479, 
Nineveb, a carious seal Ibnnd in, 227, 
Notices of Books, 160, 397_, 
Numerals, Greek and Latin, and the 

Napoleons, 5, 8, 12. 



Obituary, 242. 

Offertory boses, account of, 198 ; their 
antiquity and cunstmction, 199. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



INDEX TO THE TENTH VOLUME. 



Pagan deities and th« pasBiona, 105; 
proteoling power of, 106. 

Palestine, pathwajs in, 475. 

Parian Chiomcle, account of, 325. 

Patker, Mr., hia deviations from com- 
mon chronoloef , 320 ; his reliance 
on Jaliua AfiicanaB, 322 ; hia Con- 
tradictions, 332 ; aetronomy and his- 
tory both against his chronology, 
334. 

Piacular sacrifice, particnlarB of, 265. 

Plato ftTcree to slavery, 128. 

Poetry and mythology, 102. 

Polytheism and the other world, 100. 

Powell, Profeaaor, on miraclea, 459. 

Profane writers' conden 
alflTery, 126 1 *aehyla9, 
and others quoted, 127. 

Prophecy, the desirablaness of a study 
of, U. 

Prophecies and their fnlGlment, 2. 

Prophetical Literatnre and the Napo- 
leons, 5, 

Protestant Episcopal Church and the 
AposUea' Creed, 20. 



Recent Syriac litorature, 373. 
Keliginns thought and prophecy, 14. 
Komarks on Assyrian and Median his- 
tory, 130. 
Kevektion, whatisit? 175. 
EeT. xi. — xiii., interpretation of, 71, 

345, 406. 
EeTelation and heathenism, theology 

of, 99. 
Kevision of the Vatican New Testa- 
Riddle, Kev. J. E., account of, 244. 
Borne, blasphemous reference to Chris- 
tianity in, 470. 



Sacred slaves of Israel, their origin 

and history, 266. 
Scatiger* s exclamation on chronologists, 

310. 
Scriptures, the language of, aubversive 

of shivery, 123; m^em Tersions of 

the, 227. 



Segneri'a eloqnence, 419. 

Septuagint, errors in the, 160. 

Se'yr and its settlement, 272; its pre- 
iicious inhabitants, 274 ; their wan- 
derings, 275 ; their defeat, 278. 

Slavery condemned by ancient and pro- 
fane writers, 110; its incompatibUit}' 
with Christianity, 111 ; treatment of 
its victims, 112. 

Slaves and their freedom, 133. 

Spenser on heaven, 4S1. 

St. AtbanasinB, Festal Letters of, 259. 

St. Barnabas on chronology, 311. 

St. John, the emblems of, 71, 345. 

St. Peter and St. Paul's teaching as to 
human equality, 119; glavea as a 
right of property not recognized by, 
124. 

Stier on St. James, 446. 

Swedenborg as a writer, 428. 

SyiTHC literature, 373. 

Syro-Egyptian Society, antiquities at, 



Talbot, Mr. H. F., on Assyrian history, 

152. 
Theology of revelation and heathenism, 



Tischendorf, discoveriea of, 476. 
Tomh of Rachelin Bethlehem, acooant 

of, 230. 
Touasaint L'Ouvertore and Napoleon, 



Universal alphabet, 386. 



Vatican New Testament, reviaed edi- 
tion of, 166 ; errors in the original, 
1 67 ; scholars' demands for correct- 



^byCOOl^lC 



INDEX TO THE TBHTH VOLUME. 



Vatican Cddei, its supposad resi 
blanca to a Hetcnlanean ma 
script, 320 { its DDCial character no 
proof of extreme antiquity, 221 ; 
characteristics of, 222 ; value of it 
in Biblical ciiticiun, 223. 

VisioDB and revelationB, Mc. Clissnld 



B Evidences 



Whately, Archbishop, i... 

exiBtenoe, 24 ; on Palej'B 

of ClirUtianity, 413. 
Wbitsnnda;, remarks on, 224. 
Winer's Grammar of New Testament 

diction, 170. 
WiueB, Professor, on the Decalogue, 

199. 



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JOURNAL 

OF 

SACRED LITERATURE 

AND 

BIBLICAL RECORD. 

No. XIX.— OCTOBER, 1859. 

MODEBB PROPHETICAL LZTEBATUBE." 

The works, the titles of which we have placed below, form not 
a tithe of those, on the same subject, which have appeared since 
we last treated of the Literature of the Apocalypse.* In the 
midst of continual failures in facts and dates, and under the 
burden of much indifference from one portion of the religious 
public, and of almost ridicule from another, the students of 

■ Artnageddort ; or, A Wanting Voice from the laei Batile-fietd of NtUiOTU, 
prodaiming by the mou&i of PrimKett mid ApasUes, that the Close of the Times of 
Ike Gentiles, the Second Personal Advent and Mitlenni/d Beign of oar Lord mid 
Samotiir Jeeue Christ, are ttigkal hand; when Ood^s Coveaaats toWi the PatriaTchs, 
and oar Lories prondsea to Su Apostles, " and Prophets, and Saints, aiul them 
that fear Bis Name, emoK and grettt" (Kev. xi. 18), imll he lilenUly ami com- 
pletely fulfilled. In Three Tolanieg and an AppondLx. B7 a Master of Arts of 
the Universitj of Cambridge. London: Wertheim and Ck). 1858. 8yo. 

To enpioy; a Ditserlalion on Ike History of the "Beast," as derived from the 
Prophet) Daniel and John; andoflkal Head of the Beast especially " iehose deadly 
iDound una ke/^ed" (Rev. xiii. 3). By Maarioe Cely Trevilian, Esq. London : 
Wertheim and Cki. 1858. 8vo, pp. 604. 

Three Letters on the Profhtdes, On the True Place of Ike Seventh Seal; on 
the Injidd Individwd Anlichristi and on Antiochns Bpiphanes as a si^tposed 
Subject of Prophecu. Bebg in continua:tion of Eight Letters puhliahed in 1831. 
B; James HaUey Frere, Esq. London: Hatchard. 1859. 8to, pp 108. 

Notes on the Apocalyp$e, at explained by the Hebreia Scr^ures; the Place of 
Prophecy tn America and Aiielralia being pointed out. London; Eiylngtona. 
1859. 8yo, pp. 150. 

' Journal of Sacred Ltterature, July, 1857. 
VOL. X. — NO. XIX. 



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3 Modem Prophetical lAleratwe. [October, 

Daniel and the Revelation continae their efforts. If their ap- 
propriations of inspired prophecy cannot be sustained in some 
cases, they make fresh attempts; and if they are manifestly 
incorrect, they ingeniously change their ground, and weave a 
new hypothesis. They remind us of the perseverance of a 
household insect, who will repair its web, although it should be 
broken twenty times by the same hand. We wi^ we could feel 
that the reparations of the theories of those to whom God has 
given intelligence, were as effective and usefid as those of the 
humbler followers of the unreasoning instincts with which their 
Maker has endowed them. 

The greater part of orthodox Christians in all ages have been 
content with an admission that prophecies remain to be liilfilled, 
but that it was their duty to wait patiently till the book of 
Providence shoidd be opened, and the finger of (Jod clearly 
point out the accomplishment. They have recognized the exist- 
ence of a vast field hereafter to become known in all its extent 
and all its peculiar features, but at present a terra incognita, a 
land from which the hand of God has not yet lifted the cloud 
which baa hitherto rested upou it. Like sensible geographers, 
they have refrained from giving to this unexplored continent 
mountains and rivers supplied only by the imagination. But, 
on the other hand, the modem students of prophecy have been 
unwilling that any part of the oibis terrantm of Biblical truth 
should remain unmapped out, and, in the absence of authentic 
surveys of the country, they have guessed what must be the 
filling up of the outline. While sober and thoughtful men have 
rested in peace, in the general belief that prophecies exist which 
are some day to be accomplished ; the more sanguine and fanciful 
have tried to anticipate the time of the unveiling, and have 
stated what, in their opinions, must be the events which sages 
and seers have darkly foretold. To change the figure, the one 
class of theologians are like the old alchymists, working by a 
method of empiricism which will only satisfy themselves ; while 
another class is content to abide by the Baconian method, and 
to take sober induction as their guide. 

It will be replied, that we are invited, indeed commanded, to 
se.arch into prophecy, and that one or two texts are sufficient to 
warrant all that is doing by the explorers of unfulfilled predic- 
tions. For instance (Rev. i. 3), " Blessed is he that teadeth, 
and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those 
things which are written therein, for the time is at hand." Or 
(Rev. sxii, 6, 7), "These sayings are faithful and true, and the 
Lord of the holy prophets sent his angel to shew unto his 
servants the things which must shortly be done. Behold I come 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Modem PropketicalUterature. 3 

quickly; blessed ia he that keepeth the sayings of the prophecy 
of this book." But it will be plain that if exegesis is lawfully 
applied to these and similar passages, many objections will arise 
to the interpretation of those who make it a duty to find out 
to what precise events unfulfilled prophecies refer. The word 
prophecy, it might be suggested, does not necessarily convey the 
idea of a prediction ; nor does it follow that the charge given in 
the above tests refers to the whok of the book of Revelation, but 
only to the practical parts of it. And knowing how dangerous 
it is for men to divine beforehand what may be meant by this 
and that prediction, the cautious divine would apply all legiti- 
mate limitations to such texts, as he woiild to the esbortation, 
" Swear not at all," or " "Whosoever shall compel thee to go a 
mile, go with him twain." He woxdd do this even if such texts 
stood alone, and were not limited and explained by those of a 
contrary tendency. But these texts of the Revelation, admitting 
as they do so many meanings besides that which some students 
of prophecy give to them, are positively neutralized in that expo- 
sition by others whose purport is clear and explicit. For example, 
we find in Acts i. 6, 7, that the disciples were anxious to know 
what was about to take place in the Divine government, and 
said, "Lord, wilt thoo at this time restore again the kingdom to 
Israel ?" and that our Lord replied to them, " It is not for you 
to know the times or the seasons which the Father hath put in 
his own power." Such a text as this, so plain that it hardly 
admits of more than one exposition, might weigh with all sobM- 
divines to repress curiosity, and to leave future events to throw 
such light on prophecies that no doubt can remain of the con- 
nexion between them. 

There is another ox)nsideration which weighs much with 
ourselves to dbcourage the prying into futurity of which we are 
now speaking; we mean the conduct of God in r^ard to the 
individuals of which his Church is composed. How eagerly we 
often try to discover what is in the future ! How we investigate 
narrowly the shadows of coming events which appear sometimes 
to lie in our pathway, in order to see what it is which they 
adumbrate ! How frequently it appears to us to be of prime 
importance to our interests that we should know a little of the 
future in order to regulate our present movements and conduct ! 
And yet how the book of time refuses to open its closed leaves, 
how inexorably it hides the myeterioua characters which we seek 
so earnestly to copy out and to solve ! An earnest curiosity. 
Justified, as we are tempted to think, by our own interests, is 
thus often indulged, and yet as often it is disappointed, and we 
are at length brought to rest in the concurrent judgment of 

B 2,-- , 

Dg,l,...cbyCjOOl^lC 



4 Modern Prophetical LAterature. [October, 

good men in all ages, that it is far better for us to i^main in the 
dark, and that future events are concealed from us by the great 
goodness of our heavenly Parent. A principle of the Divine 
Government so universal, and so generally admitted to be all- 
wise and good, in relation to individuals, we might expect to 
operate in regard to the Church at large; and this analogy, 
though not of itself an argument, becomes a powerful one when 
viewed in connexion with such a declaration as fell from the 
lips of our Lord. At all events, we are convinced, as the greater 
part of the Church in all ages has been, that it is not the will of 
God that we should know to what events or persons prophecies 
relate till their fulfilment has taken place, and catholic consent 
is given to the fact. 

But it will be found that such works as those which are now 
before us proceed on a principle directly opposed to this. Their 
writers maintain that it is God's intention to indicate what is 
coming in such a manner that certain persons and events may 
be pointed to as the subjects of prophecy, and that their course 
and conduct may be reckoned upon. The process seems to be 
this. It is conduded that the Revelation, for instance, speaks 
of some events fulfilled and of some still future, and that the 
former supply a key by which the latter can be indicated with a 
degree of certainty sufficient to influence our conduct. The 
conclusion is jumped at that certain events in the past have 
accomplished certain predictions, and it is then assumed that 
certain others, linked with these in a fixed sequence, must 
take place. Thus, for example, it is assumed that the Papacy is 
the subject of much of the prophecy of the Revelation, and 
events in its past history are pointed to as manifest fulfilments. 
It follows on this assumption, that the Beast spoken of in the 
thirteenth chapter is a development of the Papacy, and that its 
number must be found in some individual who will play a conspi- 
cuous part on the theatre of Chiistendom. Hence, in past ages, 
there has been an effort made to say who the Beast is ; and, 
although the failures have been most numerous, a similar effort 
has been, and is being made in modem times, and is ingeniously 
attempted in the volumes before us. To us such treatises 
seem to have no foundation to rest on but the fancy of the 
writers, that the whole structure they build rests on a mere 
assumption in the first instance, and consequently on a baseless 
reasoning throughout. We could say much on the general 
question of the presumed application of the Apocalypse to these 
recent centuries of the Christian era, but our object now is 
different. We wish merely to present to om* readers the grand 
theory of the three first of the works on the list we have given 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Modem Prophetical Literature. 5 

above, with the sure result, if we are not greatly miBtakeu, of 
inducing them to hold fast to the declaration of our Lord, that 
it is not given to as " to know the times or the seasons, which 
the Father hath put in His own power." 

We are not surprised that those who think that the Beast of 
the Apocalypse is an individual character, and that this is about 
the time when be should exhibit his powers in Christendom, 
should fix upon the present Emperor of the French as identical 
with him. We say this, not because we can see that any of the 
characteristics given in the Revelation, or in other parts of Holy 
Scripture where Antichrist is mentioned, meet in Louis Napo- 
leon, but because we know the facility with which some stu- 
dents of prophecy can use the Procrustean operation in order 
to accomplish the conditions of their theories. We shall give 
rather copious extracts from these hallucinations, so as to ^low 
the authors to speak for themselves, and it will be seen that, 
with very different mental qualifications, they unite in one testi- 
mony as regards the fulfilment of certun portions of Apocalyptic 
visions. 

The writer oi Armageddon has exhibited the greatest industry, 
and proves himself to be well acquainted with the literature of 
modem prophetical exegesis. He is very diffusive, but his four 
volumes (for the Appendix forms one) may be advantageously 
consulted for materi^ds which are capable of being made a better 
nse of than we think be has done. A copious index renders 
reference easy, and by turning to that we see at a glance the 
opinion he forms of Louis Napoleon as the Beast. For instance, 
under Napoleon I, we find the following items among a htwi of 
others : — " The supposed seventh head of the Imperial Beast ;" 
"his baptismal name contained in the mystic number of the beast 
in Greek numerals, two Greek compounds designating him by 
the same characteristics as those given to Nebuchadnezzar in Jer. 
iv, 7." "The seventh head wounded unto death by the sword at 
Waterloo," etc. ; " Death of his son, and all apparent expecta- 
tion of the revival of the septimo-octave Headship in the Napo- 
leonic line at an end until the appearance of Napoleon III. upon 
the scene." This brings us to the heading in the index of 
Napoleon III,, and under that we find him as " constituting in 
himself the septimo-octave Head or Headship of ' the Beast 
that was, is not, and yet is;'" the mystical number of the 
Beast is said to be "contained both in bis baptized and surname, 
the former in Latin, the latter in Greek numerals." The Wilful 
King of Daniel is "to be finally developed in him ;" he is said to 
" assume divine honours, like bis uncle," and it is asserted that 
the " world wiU probably be divided between him and Russia," 

Drg,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



6 Modem Prophetical Literature. [October, 

These brief notices in the index are expanded at great length in 
the Tolumes themselvea, and we have found more about Louis 
Napoleon in them than we hare met with elsewhere. The 
passage we now quote is a long one, yet it is only a small portion 
of what we find on the same topic : — 

" Keproipered, moreoTer, vnlil the iadu/nation of Ood wat accomplished, 
through him as Hia iastrumeut, against the blaaphemiug and aorepentaQt 
persecutors of the literal as well as the spiritual Israel j through him, the 
' Scorching Sun ' of the Pourth Vial, as we shall presently see, was under 
its primsry fulfilment : and then, aa had been foretold by the prophet, he 
eame to M» end, on the barren rock of St. Helena, friendless, deserted, 
stripped of all his earthly gloiy, imd with none to help hit». Such too, as 
we see by the conditions of the prophecy of ReTelation, now under our 
consideration, was to be the fate of the Seventh Head, thereby proving, 
in everything, the identity of Napoleon I. with that head. It «>ai to 
continue /or a ahort space only; inferring thereby the previously long 
duration of the Sixth Headship, and instead of falling, as the other heads 
had done, through internal regulations or revolutions, it was to be 
mounded to death. Yet bum this hie apparently deadly teound to be healed, 
and all the world to wonder i^fter the Beail who, though slain by the sword, 
yet lined; a revival that was manifestly to be exhibited in the septimo- 
octave Head, or Eighth Head of the Seven, and so close a resemblance 
would this his returrection Head, as it maybe termed, bear to the defunct 
one, that it would aeeni to the world as if it had never died. 

" And has not this all been marveDously fulfilled to the very letter in 
Napoleon I. and his nephew Louis Napoleon ? For eleven years only, 
from 1304 — 1816, did the reign of the Seventh Head continue ; it was, as 
it were, ' slain to death ' in the bloody field of Waterloo. At the decease 
of the captive of St. Helena, in 1821, the beast ceased to live : and, to all 
human foresight, the remainder of the prophecy was involved in darkness, 
for the restoration of the Bourbons, which ensued on tbe deposition of the 
Seventh Head, was followed in 1833 by the death of the Duke of Beich- 
stadt, as the young king of Home was afterwards called, and sll prospect of 
tbe revival of the Seventh Head was, apparently, at an end. Yet did 
He, the Omniscient, fulfil it in his own good time. Pirst the ashes of 
the departed emperor, the imperial Seventh Head, were, in accordance 
with his dying request, ' that they might repose on the banks of the 
Seine, among the people he loved so well,' exhnmed in 1840, by permis- 
sion of the British Government, from their tomb in St. Helena, brought 
back to France, and deposited in a splendid mausoleum, in the Church of 
the Invalides at Paris. 

" And, as if the usurping spirit survived in those remains, hut a few 
short years elapsed ere it rose again bodily, as it were, from its resting-place, 
and expelled tbe junior, as it had previously done the elder, branches of the 
house of Bourbon, from the throne of their ancestors. After a suspension 
of existence for three and thirty years, the Beast lived again under his 
resurrection, or scptimo-octare Head, or Headship, in the person of 
Napoleon III., when, on the flight of Ijouis Philippe in 1848, he was 



...CbyCOOl^lc 



1859.] Modem Prophetical Literature. 7 

made President of the French Eepublic, aod the astounding words, ' Tie 
Beast that teas, is not, and yet is,' were accomplished. They were ac- 
complished too where least expected, in one who was looked upon either 
as a mere London trifler,. or rash adventurer, whose attempt with a few 
followers at Boulogne to subTert the government of Louis Philippe, was 
rewarded with an apparently contemptuous imprisonment in the castle of 
Ham, in Kcardy, and that, remarkably enough, in this very same year, 
1840, in which the corpse of his uncle was received with triumphant 
military honours, as if it were alive again, amidst the universal rqoicing 
of the French nation. ' They elected him (Louis Napoleon, says Mr. St. 
John, in his biography of him), as one of their representatives in that 
Legislative Babel, the National Assembly. From that moment the fate 
of the Hepublic was sealed, 3it« skeleton (^ Napoleon, already brought 
fi-om St. Helena, rose from Us grave to crush the fragile form of liberty to 
death. The old man stood in the yoang one, whom he had invested with 
artificial interest, and enabled him to stifle the voice of freedom.' — p. 373. 

" 'And lie beast that was, and is not, even he is the eighth, and is of the 
teoen, and goeth into perdition' These are sad and fearful words, and may 
appear in the minds of some to he presumptuously applied, even though 
conjectorally, since time alone can warrant, it may be ui^ed, their direct 
application. Yet is our investigation neither unchristian, nor unscriptnral, 
since we are everywhere most especially enjoined to beware of this last 
most terrible creation of the Dragon, out of whose destined abode in the 
bottomless pit we are to look for its rising. And, if we find such cmbiyo 
characteristics of the identification of the resuscitated Napoleon dynasty 
with the septi mo -octave Headship, as may lead us ultimately to expect 
that possible further and final Antichristian development in it which may 
reveal it to a wondering world as ' that wicked one whom the Lord shall de- 
stroy with the brightness of his coming,' it is our duty to be on our 
guard, as well as to warn others, that with his day comes also 'the day 
of the Lord's vengeance and the year of his redeemed.' It is clear, 
from the terms of the prophecy, that this septimo-ootave Headship is to 
stand forth to the world, as if it were a continuation of the very esistence 
of the seventh head. And almost every thought and word and act of the 
present occupant of the French Imperial throne, from the commencing 
period of his election to the Presidential chair to this hour, are in such 
marvellous conformity with thos« of his predecessor, that they seem by an 
overruling Providence to point him out, either as the expected one him- 
self, or the foundation-stone of that septimo-octave Headship out of which 
it will spring, and be finally developed as the Antichrist." 

We miist now turn to the exegetical defence of this applica- 
tion of prophecy, if auch a term can be applied to what is more 
like a conundrum. 

" Another of the most important preliminary and distinguishing marks 
of this last Headship is found in Louis Napoleon, in the number of his 
Latinized or Eocnan name, Ludovicus, under which, having dropped his 
other baptismal name of Charles, he is prayed for in all the churches, and 
the numerals of which form the mysterious number 666, as thus -. 



.b^Cooi^lc 



8 Modem Prophetical lAterdture. [October, 

LVDOTICVS 

eO 6 600 6 1 100 6 = 666. 

And, as we have already seen in onr recoarks upon the auppoted Seventh 
Head, his other name of Napoleon contains the same toratic number in 
Greek numerals; so that nhelher the ' number of the Beast' be inter- 
preted in Greek or Latin, it is equally to be found in the name of the 
third Head of the Napoleon dynasty." 

It would be a reflectioa on the judgment of our readers if 
we were to attempt to point out all the objectionable parts of 
this passage ; we will only allude to the determination displayed 
by the writer to make out hie theory by all means, so that he 
gives to the Latin O the numerical power which it has in the 
Arabic notation. It ia quite clear that by this process anything 
may be made out of Scripture, and any other great man of the 
day might be dignified by the title of the Apocalyptic Beast 
without much difficidty. 

But we must now refer to Mr. Trevilian. His IMggertalitm 
on the History of the Beast is, in many respects, a remarkable 
production. It is the work of a layman, and it displays strong 
convictions and great eaniestness of purpose. Provided it were 
not faulty ab inilio, we should admire the closeness of the rea- 
soning, and if in what we could consider a sound cause, the 
terseness of some of the ailments. There is also much origin- 
ality in the treatment of the subject, and views of the matter 
are presented which we do not remember to have seen elsewhere. 
To one of these we shall refer presently, but we will first quote 
some paragraphs to shew the way in which Louis Napoleon is 
brought upon the scene, and the kind of argument by which be 
is identified with the Beast. 

" It has been shewn, that the Vision we are engaged with of Daniel's 
* four beasts' has a close relation — that of identity of its component parts, 
to the vision of Rev, xiii. ; and analogy seems imperatively to demand, 
iu consequence, that the seventh head in Daniel — being the same as the 
one wouaded to death in the Eevelation — should be found in a leeond 
Toanijedaium, or the ' kingdom ' be in some way ' divided;' and as the 
great Napoleon ia the seventh head in Daniel (ver. 7), the character pre- 
sented in verse 8, the 'little horn,' will necessarily be some one who can 
respond to the description of himeelf restored (who but Louis Napoleon?) 
and who can figure in the 'eighth' place. If there be really any re- 
quirement of this sort arising out of the analogy, it seems impossible to 
put aside the claim of the ' little horn ' to satisfy it ; and if the ' little 
horn ' thus becomes the required ' eighth ' head, it ia equally impossible 
not to acknowledge Louis Napoleon, being the resuscitated seventh head, 
to he he. That is to say, not so much (it may he) that Louis Napoleon 
is the impersonation of the ' little horn,' aa that in hia day, or dynasig, 
will be fulfilled the signs of the ' little horn.' 



^byCOO^^IC 



1859.] Modern Prophetical LUerature. 9 

** Now if Louis Napoleon be, indeed, Tepreeentatively, tbfi penonal 
' little hoTD,' it can only be so by his assnming a new and very nnexpected 
goise. He ia to be traced in a direct manner only to the headship of the 
Beoit ; by what metamorphosis can we imagine him to appear tikewiie as 
head of the Papacy, as at once the secular, anA sacro-secular, head of 
Borne 1 Even imagination fails as a guide, except it be rudely to anggest 
that, not content with the tubordmate ipirilual government held by all 
eorereign princes, he may declare himself the apiriiital head of the Church, 
the high priest as well as king of the State ; so making good the preten- 
sions to holiness ascribed to the 'little horn,' which has eyes like the eyes 
of a man ; and to the ' man of sin,' who ' sitteth in the temple of God 
(the Christian Church) shen'iug himself that he is God ;' t. e., sitting at 
Christ, iapreipe in all OMthority — (<I7t in tempio Dei aederit, ostendens se 
ianqtiam ipse sit Christus, et Pilius Dei ;' Jerome : vid. O'Sullivan, 46), 
It is in Louis Napoleon at any rate, and in some such manner, that we 
think it highly probable will be maaifested the final phase of the ' little 
horn,' as at once the lord and son of the Papacy, a» ChrUt it qf the houie 
of David, and so the Antichrist.' 

" Now if the ' little horn ' be the Papacy ; and if the ' little horn ' be 
in a concentrated sense Louis Napoleon ; it might fairly be expected, from 
the artistic propriety observable in every part of prophecy, that this per- 
sonage should carry about him partonally some evidence of the claim, 
ahewiug (for instance) his peculiar title to the appellaiion itself. Now he 
is a ' horn ' of empire, by virtue of being son of Louis, king of Holland, 
than whom it would be impossible to imagine a more veritable ' horn ' or 
subordinate power, as shewn by the circumstance just now alluded to, of 
his having abdicated his crown rather than obey the injurious behests of 
bis imperial ' Head.' Like begets like. Had Lonis Napoleon been the 
son of Napoleon, it would have been impossible that he should pass, per- 
sonally, for a ' horn.' He ia also a * Utile horn ' because springing up (as 
it were accidentally) aa a ' lusue natune,' without any natural rigut of 
position. The power committed to him rests entirely on bis connexion 
with the great Head departed ; with which accords his own avowal, that 
his 'miitwn' is to carry out the will of that Head. But, as if the more 
fully to establish his identity, and place it beyond all cavil by a double 
testimony, St. John (be it again mentioned) designates him a Head: he 
appears as the * eighth Head ' of empire, in the great vision of the fall of 
Babylon (Rev. xvii. 1 1). Thus he is at once in symbolism a Sead, and 
a Aont, springing ont of a head. In conformity with which double sign, 
he carries the double cognomen of Louis, the 'horn,' and Napoleon, the 
' head ;' the ' bom ' that still ia, the ' head ' that is to be." 

Now in what njanoer does Mr. Trevilian bring the paasage 
io the Revelation, containiug the number of the Beast, to prove 

' We mnn here mention that Mr. Trevilian, in a note to the volume, conf^Mes 
that he is in error in caUing Louis Nftpoleoa The Anticlirist. He says, " There re- 
latim that he ia the ' revived Head,' the redoubtiible • ^ghth king,' of Revelation, 
the 'vile person' of Daniel, bnt without those apirituil pretension* which seem in- 
separable from the idea of ^'Ae Antichrist." 



.byCOOl^lC 



10 Modem Prophetical lAierature. [October, 

that Louis Napoleon is the individual specified F He does it in 
two ways, and it is in this part of the diBsertation that the 
originality occura to which we have referred ahove. It is well 
known to Biblical critics that a various reading existed in very 
early times in the Greek text of Rev. xiii. 18, which is thus 
referred to by Dr. Tregelles:'* "We know from Irenaeus that 
the number was expressed in Greek letters (vfr). He speaks of 
a different reading x*i- [616] (which is found^in C), and he rests 
for the true reading, 666, on the authority of ' correct and old 
copies,' and the information of those who had known the apos- 
tle, ' qui facie ad faciem Johannem viderunt.' " The universal 
canon of criticism has been that two readings of a text cuuiot 
both be right, and in that we entirely acquiesce. We cannot 
well imagine the obscurity which would come over the Holy 
Scriptures if we were once to admit that various readings might 
have equal authority. Yet such is Mr. Trerilian's very dangerous 
admission. He says : — 

"When a varia lectio of a text pretents itself, equally well uatboDti- 
eated in early MSS. as tbe text commonly received, it is very possible 
both may bare been given by inspiration. Thus, tbere would be an ab- 
surdity in tbe supposition, because St, Mattbew iadites the words, ' for- 
give as our debts as we forgive our debtors,' in the Lord's Prayer, and St. 
Luke writes, ' forgive us oar sins, for we also forgive every one that is in- 
debted to us,' that the one form of words is to be considered less vouched 
by the inspiring Spirit than tbe other. Now, there is found a certain 
'various reading' of tbe text xfr (600, 60, 6)— piz., x<f (600. 10, 6), of 
which Ireneus testifies that it was much received by the learned in bis day, 
though he himself rtrongly condemns it, receiving without any doubt the 
better knowu x^f' The queatioa ia, whether a ' various reading ' present- 
ing itself under such pretensions, may not, by possibility, deserve to be 
regarded in a higbei hgbt than that of a mere alternative, as having been 
imparted by the Holy Spirit as a eoHctn/dtant portion of the origin^ text. 
Of course, being a case where numier is concerned, and all the precision 
of number required, it would be folly to regard this numericaJ variation 
with the same iudiff»«nce, as the uerely verbal variation above cited from 
the Lord's Prayer; hut I can see no improper violence in the proposition 
»— seeing the whole passage to have the appearance of d^ectiven^a, and 
the sacred enigma to require two vtemben instead of one in the form of 
its answer — that some number such as this, r^arded now only as a 
' various reading,' may have slipped by some means or other out of the 
inspired Word.' 

We will not say such a thing is impossible as two readings 
having authority, bat it is far too improbable to found any- 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Modem Prophetical Uterature. 11 

thing practical upon. Yet Mr. TreriUaii proceeds to erect on 
this frail foundation a very bold theory indeed. He Burrenders, 
not in his judgment, but for the sake of ailment, the hypo- 
thesis that the " various reading " may have formed part of the 
original text, and confines himself to maintaining its authority. 
" It should not be a matter of surprise to find some well authen- 
ticated number descending firom the highest antiquity, occupy- 
ing perhaps the hazardous position of a ' various reading,' which 
the very act of giving preference to a competitor at once dooms 
to annihilation ; but being really a comment upon the original 
text, and offering itself, not in the character of a aupplanter, but 
as a result of the early belief that the mysterious number given 
contained an inner mystery, the indispensable household god, as 
it were, in the inmost recesses of the building." The object of 
all this is as follows. Mr. Trevilian says that "the moritof the 
Benst is not the only, nor the most important thing that invites 
au investigation, there is also the name of the Beast ;" and in 
these two readings of the Greek text he thinks he finds them 
bothl 

"Conaidering that two things are required, and that but one mmfer 
ie here given; and considenng that, oa making the experiment, this . 
number is found to make one of tbe things required — the mark (not in 
a direct but an enigmatical manner, as might have been anticipated from 
tbe deptbs of a secret which inspiration had condescended to exercise 
itself upon) — what more likely than that this single number should prove 
to be tlie depository of the other thing required alsoP I look around. 
Is there no friendly finger to point the way in this additional search P 
Imagination fails 1 The 'name' is lost I But, behold I I observe a 
number descending from apostoUc times (x<c-) greatly differing from the 
number given, yet bearing a family resemblance to it. I determine to 
try my hand upon it. I find in the first place — regarding the given 
number xB^ again as a sign — that this imic number yields the component 
parts and chief characteristics of that sign, in particular its Toot«{\.^-^^), 
axi&Jh'it germinatum (10 x 6) — just as when (putting aside allegory) it is 
intended to draw forth from a multitnde some individual to be its leader 
(as when Saul was chosen to be king), the selection will naturally fall 
upon one who most eminently embodies its general character — as did 
Saul the chief features of the sons of Jacob, as developed in the most 
favoured of their tribes. Secondly, treating this apparent offspring still 
as a sign — a tripartite si^ such as is the parent, but constructed as a 
derivation — I find that, placing its members in a position relatively to 
each other, which, in unison with the universal custom of mankind, is 
held to abrogate the character qf a tign, and to exhibit the thing signified, 
it renders the name in full length of Louis Napoleon." 

By some recondite arithmetioal calculations Mr. Trevilian 
dediuies the number 6,000,000 by "unbinding," as he says, 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



12 Modern Prophetical lAteraiure. [October, 

the sign 666 ; and then the mark of Napoleon comes out in this 
way:— 

N. P. L. N. 
i.e., 50x80x80x50=6,000,000! 
To find the name, the first process is to alter and transpose 
the letters of the various reading, v(c- and make them t^r. But 
we must give the result in the words of the writer : — 

"Kon, how to read off this sigof This is the last and moat diffi- 
cult step of all. We know of a certainty by this time, that to read off 
the aetwe Antichrist the temiB of the sign must be transposed, and 
appear in the order 10, 60, 6, (that is, i, f , r) i but the question is, hy 
what Intimate process can this form of sign be converted into a nngle 
number, so as to b^ capable of rendering the name required? Here 
the writer will deem it best to introduce at once the chance discovery he 
made sis years ago, and gave it in vain to the world in his pamphlet : — 
A 30 N 50 

70 a \ 



70 

710 .• 60=856=1066=(fr. 

Again we must say, as of the author of Armageddon, that it 
appears to us that by such intricate processes as these, trans- 
posing, and altering, and arranging pro re natd, almost anything 
may be proved from the passage in Bev. xiii. 18. 

We come now to the " Letters " of Mr. Hatley Frere. That 
gentleman is an octogenarian, and he telle us that be has " been 
enabled through the means of a new system of Apocalyptic 
arrangement, and the adoption of more stringent rules of inter- 
pretation than commentators have hitherto followed, not only to 
make known, during tbe last forty-five years, the general course 
of predicted events, but also, at every critical period, to verify 
the truth of his system by calling attention to the particular 
prophecy next about to receive its fulfilment." This is rather 
a bold assumption, but we have no doubt that Mr. Frere 
thoroughly believes its truth. It appears that the rise of Napo- 
leon Bonaparte signally fiilfilled the expectations of the writer, 
but that his death disconcerted him. He thus wrote in 
1850:— 

" Subaeqnently to the death of the young Napoleon, Duke of Reich- 
stadt, who appeared to be pre-eminently qualified to fulfil all the condi- 
tions of this prophecy, the author, in a letter published in 1833, entered 
fully into the difhculUes apparently standing in the way of any fulfilment 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Modem Prophetical lAlerature. 13 

of it, arising from the circumstance that tbere was then, and till latdy 
has atiU continued to be, an entire deficiency in the Bomaa empire of any 
individual qualified either by personal influence or descent to sastain the 
character of the future infidel or individual Antichrist, as set forth by the 
author in his interpretation of this prophecy, and as uaiversallj the aub- 
ject of the espectation of the ancient church 5 and he consequently 
avowed that he considered the ' mj/ttery ' in which it was then involved 
to be so great as to place * an impenelraile barrier agaitut hit further 
in^iriei ;' nevertheless he maintained that the divine science of prophetic 
iDterprelatioo vfould eventually be completely vindicated, and the true 
interpretation satisfactorily ascertained by the occurrence of the following 
events, which he has uniformly, during these thirty-four years, endeavoured 
to hold up to the view of the Church as the signs and circumstances 
which would accompany the manifestation of the infidel Antichrist in 
his last form as eighth head of the Roman Empire : namely, that the 
time wheu leould be an the pouring out of tie teventh Apoca^iieal vial 
of toratk; — that the place wbebb would be on the throne of Some ; 
— and that the circuhstanceb endes which it would occur, would 
be a* the result of on w)irer«a2 Continental popular uuurreciion <md reoo- 
Ivlion; and he cannot now but notice the first dawning of the rising 
light, and the already changed and more favourable aspect of affwrs 
since he wrote in 1833. 

" The expected great Continental revolution of the Seventh Vial has at 
length taken place, and at the same time the obstacle to the fulfilment of 
the prophecy arising from the absence in the Homau empire of any fit 
representative of the late Emperor Napoleon the Great is found no longer 
to exist. By an event most extraordinary, and which, considered in con- 
nexion with this prophecy, may be justly esteemed miraculous, but of a 
much more reasonable aud Scriptural character, and more consonant to 
the present nature of the divine dispensations than the resurrection of 
Napoleon from the dead would have been (which some who have adopted 
imperfectly the author's views have crudely and enthusiastically expected), 
we see Louis Napoleon, who is now the heir of Napoleon the Great, occu- 
pying his uncle's place as the head of the French Bepublici and the 
general expectation, and the occasional cries of ' Vive I'Empereur,' 
already pointing out to hira hia future course ; while another event, 
equally extraordinary as to the means by which it has been brought 
about, bearing as it must do more or less remotely upon the development 
of this prophecy, is the incipient connexion which has taken place be* 
tween himself, as President of the French Republic, and the city of Rome, 
of which he has been for a season the virtual governor, and which has 
been so long occupied by the French army. This important measure, the ' 
result and consequences of which no politician would venture to pronounce 
upon, appears to have been brought about without adequate motive, unless 
it has arisen from the ambition of the successor of Napoleon ; and though 
the occupation should be only temporary, yet it may be most important in 
its results ; and together with his sudden and unexpected elevation to the 
bead of the French nation, can hardly be considered otherwise than as 
partaking of a supernatural character. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



14 Modern Prophetical Literature. [October, 

. " Keferring, then, to those views which the author has always held, 
and to the difficulties which have been so recently and so suddenly aur- 
mouDted, he cannot but consider it as highly probable, if not altogether 
uuquestioDable, that the future prophetic representative of the late Em- 
peror Napoleon the Great will prove to be Louis Napoleou, or otherwise 
some member of bis family who may hereafter occupy a similar position." 

We must now leave this subject. We much doubt whether 
many of our readers will tbauk us for occupying our pages with 
what has so little that is acieutific about it, which is so purely 
fanciful, which so sets at naught all received canons of Biblical 
interpretation. But we do not think that such modes of reli- 
gious thought, however remote from what we could wish to see 
accomplished in theology, can either be ignored or treated with 
avowed contempt. If there is an excess of a sort of superstition 
in the hypotheses, stated as facts, which we have briefly brought 
before onr readers, wc must bear in mind that there is another 
phase of religious thought, equally distant from the centre of 
truth, yet &r more dangerous ; we mean a theological indiffer- 
ence. Prophecy certainly ought to be studied, unless we are 
prepared to pass over, as unfit for thoughtful investigation, 
a Wge part of the Word of God ; and probably such writers as 
those wc have now reviewed have more of the temper necessary for 
discovering the relations and hearings of divine philosophy than 
many more correct thinkers. The thing most to be lamented 
is the want, in such writers, of consecutive reasoning, of sound 
induction. That their heart is better than their head, may be 
affirmed with safety ; for we can bear vritness to the earnest 
piety which pervades their literary productions. 

The root of the evil is, that a foregone conclusion is rigidly 
adopted, and made to shape the course and current of all after 
investigations. Certain data are assumed as true in relation to 
the Apocalypse, and it is concluded that the prophecies it gives 
must be comprehensive of the whole history of the Church, and 
that that history is con&ied within the limits of a few genera- 
tions after our own time. The whole course of GJod's proceed- 
ings in the government of the Church are Erst confined within 
about two thousand years, by a most arbitrary and unfounded 
hypothesis, and then, as a matter of course, certain events and 
persons must be fixed upon aa being indicated in these prophe- 
cies. This accounts for so many persons of modern times having 
received the equivocal distinction of being either the Beast or a 
part of that monster. We can see nothing in Louis Napoleon 
to constitute him either the Beast or the Antichrist, except a 
kind of necessity in these students of prophecy to confer these 
titles on tome one at the present era. They have decided first 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] Modern Prophetical Literature, 35 

that the previous prophecies mtut refer to the past course of 
Christendom, and then they must perfect the chain by finding the 
Beast. That character ought to come in here, therefore he mmt 
be looked for among existing meii, and, tker^ore, Louis Napo- 
leon is he. Let such writers once suspect the truth of their 
premises — let them imagine that God's government of the 
Church may be only in its beginning, and that it may continue 
for thousands or tens of thousands (rf years — and the charm will 
be broken; and it will be seen that there is really no foundation 
for affixing to men of our day the folhlment of an Apocalyptic 
representation. 

The last work which we have placed on oar list. Notes on the 
Apocalypse, is quite a remarkable production, hut we regret to 
say that it is singular for even greater violations of all critical 
and exegetical laws than the three others. Leaving the trodden 
path in relation to the nnmber of the Beast, the author gora to 
America for the key to unlock the mystery, and gives his opinion 
in the following words : — 

" There is another point of view in which the number of the Beast 
has been considered, that of a date. Generally no Batisfactory one seems 
to have been recognized; but by referring back 666 yearB from the dis- 
coyery of America we come to the year 836, in which Pope Pascal ac- 
knowledged the German Emperor as the head of the Western Empire, and 
the Emperor acknowledged the Pope aa the head of the Church, thus 
marking the rise of the sixth head, as the year 1493 marks the riae of the 
Second Beast, when Columbus first landed in the New World. The year 
1492, the first colonization of America, when rose the Second Beast 
from the Eoman earth, was also rendered remartable by the expulsioa of 
the Saracens from Spain, and the union of Spain as one kingdom, under 
Ferdinand and Isabella. Here, then, ended all traces of the first war, the 
second being in full action by the taking of Constantinople^ by the Turks 
8ome years before." 

We find it difficult to feel serious in reading such cabalistic 
lore as applied to the interpretation of the Holy Bible, where, 
if anywhere, a sober and enlightened reason should guide the 
pen. But our readers must he informed, briefly, in what way 
the Hebrew Scriptures are said to explain the Apocalypse, by 
the writer before us. " Great Biblical students," he says, " have 
held that the Greek of the New Testament should be considered, 
in reference to the Hebrew roots contained in the Hebraistic 
words. The Hellenistic Greek is acknowledged on all bands to 
demand special investigation." But where are we to find Hebrew 
roots in Greek words? Everywhere, according to this writer, 
where a lively fancy can discover any vocal resemblance. We 
need do no more than quote the following, in which all sorts of 
recondite meanings are foimd in the names of the places ip'wbitii . 



16 Modem Prophetical Literature. [October, 

the aeren CbnrcheB of Asia were located j — names, be it reman- 
bered, man^ of tbem essentially Greek, and having probably no 
more rel&tion to Hebrew, than the names of London and York 
have. 

" Epbesns, loving. 

" Smyrna, watched over, kept. 

" Pergamoa, dividing, as into heresy. 

" Tbyatira, abominatioaa, idols ; teaching. 

" Sardia, the remnant. 

" Ptuladelphia, the wonderful outpouring of the Spirit. 

"Laodicea, to the time of apneing forth." 

To each of these names a Hebrew word is attached, pi^sent- 
ing a most amusing study to a philologist. 

We will find space for one more extract, as we do not wish 
to misrepresent the writer of this volume. 

"on the NA.ULS OP THE TRIBES. 

" One of the Hebrew words for city means the high place, others en- 
compared place, all equally applicable to the description liere given of the 
New Jerusalem. According to the earlier prophet, her walls, great and 
high, shall be called Salvation. The Lord himself is represented by the 
foundations. ' Other foundation can no man lay ;' and in Zion is laid 
this foundation, a tried stone, a precious corner-stone, as a diamond having 
twehe faces, on which are written the names of the Apostles of the Lamb. 

" In the order in which the names of the Apostles occur in the tenth 
chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, their signification will be aeen to agree 
in order, as well as in meaning, with the stones of the foundation as 
enumerated in this chapter. 

" Simon, called Cephas, a sttme, which breaks ot bruises, with jasper, 
which breaks or bruisea. 

" Andrew, »et apart, with sapphire, the number. 

" Jamea (or Jacobus), the heel, with chalcedony, the affliction of the 

" John, the gradouutesi of God, with emerald, he that keepeth. 

"Philip, the nudiator decladug, with sardonyx, the prince, smitten, 
melted as wax. 

" Bartholomew, the son arising, with sardiua, the prince, going forth. 

" Thomas, tmited, with chrysolite, binding. 

" Matthew, wlio cometh, with beryl, the son exalted. 

" James (of Alpheus), tie heel, with topaz, breaking, bruising. 

" Judas (Lebbeus, or Thaddeos), coming forth, with chrysoprasus, 
bruising, breaking forth. 

" Simon the Cana&nite, postetsing, with jacinth, be shall possess. 

" Paul, separated, with amethyst, breaking, separating. 

"This agreement, so regular and complete, must be intentional, part 
of the plan, in which the annexed table will be seen to comprehend also 
the names of the tribes and of the early patriarchs." 



D,g,l,..cbyGOOl^lC 



1859.] { 17 ) 



ON THE DESCENT Of CHBIST INTO HELL' 
" He descended into bell."— TAr Jpoilln' Crttd, 

That formulary of Cbristian faith which has been handed down 
to our times under the name of the Apostlea' Creed, has right- 
fully obtained, from its antiquity, script uralness, simplicity, per- 
spicuity, brevity, and coroprehensiveness, the assent and venera- 
tion of the Universal Church. With respect to its author or 
the time of its compositioQ, we possess no very satisfactory in- 
formation. Its title and a general tradition of early date, woidd 
lead us to assign its authorship to the apostlea themselves. Thus 
Ambrose, in the fourth century, declares, that " the twelve 
apostles, as skilful artificers, assembled tt^ether, and made a 
key by their common devices, i. e., the Creed." Rufinus, in the 
same century, asserts, that the Christiana of the period in which 
he lived, " had received by tradition from the Fathers that, after 
the Hscenaion of our Saviour, and the eSusion of the Holy Spirit, 
bat before the apostlea separated from each other to go into the 
habitable parts of the world to preach the Gospel, they settled 
among themselves the rule of their future preaching in order to 
prevent their teaching different doctrines daring their separa- 
tion, unto those whom they should unite to the Christian faith. 
Whereupon they assembled together, and being full of the Holy 
Spirit, they composed the Creed, each one inserting what he 
thought convenient, and ordered it to be a teat of their future 
sermons, and a rule to be given to the faithful." Not content 
with attributing the authorship of the Creed in general to the 
apostles, some of the Fathers alleged that each member of the 
apostolic College inserted a particular article, and hence the 
name aymbolum which it received,' Now it is historically <Ser- 
tain, that several articles attributed by these writers to the 
apostles, e.g., "the descent into hell," ascribed to St. Thomas, 
and "the Communion of Saints," imputed to Simon Zelotes, 
formed no part of any creed during the tirst three centuries. 
It is manifest, therefore, that the Creed, as it stands in its pre- 
sent form, could not have been composed by the apostles in the 
manner alleged. The silence of Luke, in the Acts of the 
Apostles, and the silence of ecclesiastical writers generally, for 
above three centuries, furnishes the strongest evidence that the 

• By Rev. Joseph Mnenscher, D.D., Mount Vemon, Ohio. From BtbUdkeea 
aaera tor April, 1869. 

' This notion originated in a. false inference from the word opoetofeo, and 
from confoonding in}|iA>Aiir (a tert or token) with mnSoA^ (a ecBedimCj. 



VOL. X. NO. I IX. 



D5,l,r..cb,.COOl^[C 



18 Tfu Descent of Christ into Hell. [October, 

Creed as euch did uot proceed in any form Irom the hands of the 
apostles themselves. But although no reliance can be placed on 
the tradition of the apostolic authorship of this Creed, it cannot 
be denied that the Creed itself, with the exception of a very few 
articles^ originated in the earlier ages of Christianity, and that 
it contains the substance of all the primitive creeds, which have 
been transmitted to our times. It received its distinctive title 
probably from the circumstance that it was universally esteemed 
as comprising an admirable summary of those prominent &ctB 
and doctrines, which constituted the theme of apostolic preacb- 
ing, and which were r^arded Irom the first as requisite to be 
believed in order to an intelligent profession of the Gospel. Ac- 
cordingly, although it never received the formal sanction of any 
ecclesiastical council, it early became, and still continues to be, 
the Creed of Christendom. "This faith," says Ireuffius, "the 
Church guards carefully, as if she dwelt in one house, believes, 
as if she had but one soul, and proclaims, teaches, and delivers, 
as if she possessed but one mouth." 

In characterizing the Apostles Creed as comprehensive, it is 
not intended to affirm that it embraces all the important doc- 
trines of Christianity; but that it includes, either by direct 
affirmation or by obvious implication, all those leading truths 
which lie at the foundation of our religion ; those truths which 
were classed among the first principles of the doctrine of Christ, 
in which Catechumens were particularly instructed previous to 
their admissioa by baptism to membership in the church. Hence 
it was early adopted as the universal confession of the baptized, 
— a position which it still occupies either in form or substance, 
in every branch of the one Catholic and Apostolic Church, 
whether Eastern or Western. 

There are two articles in this venerable and scriptural symbol, 
however, which, as has been already intimated, cannot lay claim 
to the same antiquity or universality as the rest. They are the 
descent of Christ into hell, and the commumon of saints. Neither 
of these originally formed a part of the creed of the Antenicene 
Church. Both of them differ in one important respect from the 
rest of the Creed; for while the meaning of the other articles 
is plain and perspicuous, aa a creed should always be, of these 
it is equivocal, and liable to misapprehension. It is still an open 
question, whether "the Communion of Saints" is to be re- 
garded as a distinct, independent article of faith, or as merely 
an explanatcoy appendage to the preceding article. Accordingly 
in some editions of the Book of Common Prayer it is separated 
from the antecedent clause only by a comma : while in others, 
by a semi-colon. Regarded simply aa epexegetical, the mean- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] The Descent of CkrUt into Hell. 19 

iDg of the whole article ma; be thus expressed: "The holy 
catholic (universal) church, which is the oommuiiioD, fellowship, 
or community of saints." Thus understood, the risible church 
is declared to be that society which embraces the community of 
jNOus persons, who acknowledge substantially the same faith, 
and hold fellowship with one another, and with Christ Jesus, 
their common spiritual head. But if the latter clause be viewed 
as a distinct and independent article of the Creed, then it dog- 
matically asserts that there exists within the body of the viaible, 
universal church, a spiritual, as well as an ontward union, com- 
munioa and fellowship, — a communion of kindred minds, such 
as is found, and found only, among real Christians. 

In regard to the other article ^uded to, viz.: "the descent 
of Christ intQ hell," there is much more difficulty. The terms 
in which it is expressed are such as to render its meaning, espe- 
cially to a mere English reader, very obscure and uncertain. 
And the learned are by no means agreed as to its true interpre- 
tation. In tracing the history of this article, we find that it had 
no existence in any creed or confession of faith, so far as we 
have any knowledge, which was drawn up prior to the Council 
of Nice (a.d. 325); neither does it form any part of the Creed 
set forth by that Council, nor of that more full and complete 
edition of it, which was adopted and set forth by the second 
general Council of Constantinople, a.d. 381, and which was in- 
corporated into the liturgy of the Church of England and of 
the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, under 
the name of the Nicene Creed.' Rufinus, Presbyter of Aquileia 
(Italy), who died a.d. 410, affirms that in his time it was con- 
tained neither in the Roman nor in the Oriental Creeds. It 
appears to have been first introduced into the (Apostles') Creed 
of the Church of Aquileia, about the year a.d. 400. Afterwards 
it was inserted in tlie creed commonly, though erroneously, 
called the Atbanasian Creed, which is supposed by some to have 
been composed by Vigillus, Bishop of Thapsus in Africa, about 
A.D. 485 ; though others assign to it a somewhat earlier, and 
others still a later, date. It was not generally adopted by the 
Church until the seventh century, when it was classed together 
with the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds as an CEcumenical symbol. 
The Descent into Hell was not introduced into the Roman 
(Apostles') Creed, until the year a.d. 600; after which it was 
generally recognized as a part of that symbol. The Church of 

' The Nicene Creed in the Book of CommoD Prayer differs from the Constan- 
Wnopolitan Creed only in the addition of the phraae " ■■■..- c>-- .- -■ 
words " who proceedoth from the Father," which v 
Church. 



Digili.^byCOOl^lC 



20 The Descent of Christ into Hell. [October, 

England at the Reformation retained the three (Ecumenical 
Creeds, and also made the Deaceot the subject of one of the 
articles of religion drawn up a.s. 1552, in the reign of Edward 
VI., in which the doctrine was made to rest on the well-known 
language of Peter. It was re-affirmed in the articles set forth 
A.D. 1562, during the reign of Elizabeth, with the omission, 
however, of the clause in which an authoritative interpretation 
is put upon it by an allusion to a particular text of Scripture. 
This clause was left out in consequence of the animosity excited 
by the disputes which this question had engendered in some 
parts of England.' 

The Apostles' Creed was also received by the Lutheran and 
Reformed Churches on the Continent, as a fundamental confes- 
sioQ ; and in the former it is used, as in the Church of England 
and the Protestant Episcopal Church iu the United States, not 
only as a confession at baptism, but as an integral part of the 
public liturgical worship. Among the acts of the general con- 
vocation of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, 
held A.n. 1785, in which the initiative steps were taken towards 
the perfect and independent organization of that Church, was 
one expunging the article relative to the Descent of Christ, 
from the Apostles' Creed,' and excluding from the Prayer Book 
the Nicene and Athauasian Creeds. Wheu the proposed ser- 
vice-book, containing the alterations and omissions agreed upon 
by the convocation, came before the bench of English Sishops 
for their sanction, it was determined by that body to require of 
the American church the restoration of the Nicene Creed, as a 
very inaportant saf^uard against the Arian and Socinian here- 
sies. The omission of the article "he descended into hell," in 
the Apostles' Creed, was strongly objected to by the aged and 
venerable Dr. Moss, bishop of Bath and Wells, chiefly on the 
ground that it was originally inserted in cA-der to counteract the 
Apollinarian heresy, which consisted in denying a perfect hu- 
manity to the incarnate Saviour, and affirming that his divinity 
supplied the place of a human soul. The other bishops appear 
not to have been agreed as to the meaning of the article, nor 
were they impressed with a conviction of its importance in a 
formulary of Mth ; and hence they were not at first inclined 
to press its restoration. But at length, out of regard to the 
feelings and wishes of Bishop Moss, more than firom any 
preferences of their own, they passed an order requiring its resto- 
ration. 

' See Hardwiok'« iftitorv of Iha Artkiei of BeUmm. pp. 101, 132. 
■ " In the creed oommonly called the ApoBtlee' Creed, one tjanee is omitted 
M being of nnoertain mcftning." — Prefaee to the Prtij>oi^ Book. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] The Descent q/" ChrUt into Hell. 21 

In tbeir official letter, addressed to the general conventioD, 
the two archbishops say: "Even id that (confession of faith) 
whicb is called the Apostles' Creed, an article is omitted which 
was thought necessary to he inserted with a view to a particular 
heresy, in a very early age of the church, and has ever since 
had the venerable sanction of universal reception. We therefore 
most earnestly exhort yon to restore to its integrity the Apostles' 
Creed] in which you have omitted an article merely, as it seems, 
from misapprehension of the sense in which it is understood by 
our Church," The archbishops do not say, in this communica- 
tion, in what sense the article was, at that time, understood in 
the Church of England. It had long ceased to have any autho- 
ritative interpretation, and the standard writers of the Church 
were by no means agreed as to its meaning. The question was 
then, as it is now, an open one in that Church, and the particular 
views respecting it, which happened to prevail at that time 
among the English divines, could have no binding force on the 
American church. In the general convention, held in 1786, the 
grounds on which the archbishops insisted upon the restoration 
of the article, were subjected to a searching criticism. The 
subject was finally referred to a committee, who, on the follow- 
ing day, reported in favour of the proposition to restore the article. 

After a warm debate, the report of the committee was at 
length adopted, and the clause reinstated ; not, however, by the 
affirmative vote of an actual majority of the dioceses represented.-^ 
In the general convention of 1789, after the consecration of 
bishops White and Provoost had taken place, the Book of Com- 
mon Prayer was subjected to a final revision, when a discussion 
again arose respecting the Article on the Descent of Christ. 
The House of clerical and lay deputies fiaally passed a resolu- 
tion, ordering it to be printed in italics and between brackets, 
with a rubric permitting, instead of it, the use of the words : 

/ Five Dioceses or States were TepreeeDted in that ConTention : New York, 

New Jeraey, FennsylTania, Delaware, aiid< South Carolina. On the qneaiioD, 
whether the words " He descended into Hell " should be restored to the Apostlea' 
Creed, agreeably to the recommendation of the committee? the vote taken by 
Orders and DioccBes stood as foUowK: New York — clergy, .^e, laity, No; 
divided. New Jersey — clergy, Aye, laity, Aye; affirmatiTe. Pennaylvania — 
clergy, Aye, laity, A'o; divided. Delaware — ctergy, divided, laity, divided. South 
Carohna — clergy, Aye., laity, Aye; affirmative. Two DioceseH were in favor, and 
three divided; so that the proposition was carried by a tniaority of the DioocBes 
The whole number of members composing the Ci 



;weiity; eight clergymen and twelve laymen. Of the clergy, leven voted in 
favor, and one [Dr. Wharton) against the reatoration of the clanse ; and of the 
laity, lix voted in favor, and six against it. It is worthy of note, that the vote 
of the two largest and most important Dioceses was divided, and that the oppo- 
sition in the oouvention came chiefly from the side of the laity. — See JourwU of 

Conixniioit, 



.byCOOl^lc 



22 The DesceTU of CArUt into Hell. [October, 

" He went into the place of departed spirits." When this reso- 
lution came up in the House of Bishops for concurrence, that 
body, in order more satisfactorily to obviate objections to the 
Article, proposed to substitute a declaration that its meaning 
was: "the state of the dead generally."' In consequence, how- 
ever, of an oversight on the part of the President of the Lower 
House, the amendment of the bishops vas not carried. Accord- 
ingly, when the committee appointed to prepare the book for 
the press, met for that purpose, they found to their surprise 
that the two houses had entirely misunderstood each other. The 
committee decided, however, that it ought to stand as proposed 
by the Lower House, and it was, accordingly, so printed. But 
bishop White, who was a member of the committee, dissented 
from the views of the majority, and protested against their deci- 
sion, on the ground that the Creed, as in the English Church, 
ought to be regarded as the Creed of the American church, until 
altered by consent of both Houses of convention, in accordance 
with the provisions of the Constitution, which in this case had 
inadvertently not been done. When the general convention 
again met in 1792, the subject came up the third time, and 
another effort was made to have the Article expunged altogether, 
but without success. It was ordered that the Creed should be 
printed in all future editions of the Prayer Book, with the 
Article inserted, not in italics and between brackets, as before, 
but with a rubric, leaving it discretionary with any churches to 
use or omit it, or to use, in place of it, the word^, " He went 
into the place of departed spirits."* Of the two bishops who 
were present in the Upper House, viz.. White and Seabury, the 
latter was strongly in favor of retaining the Article for the rea- 
sons assigned in the English Episcopal conclave by bishop Moss ; 
while the former, though evidently disliking the Article, was 
disposed on the whole to retain it, on the ground that it would 
tend to promote peace, and be acting in good faith towards the 
English bishops, while at the same time a latitude would be left, 
by the proposed rubric, for understanding it aa referring to the 
state of departed spirits generally, instead of the strict, literal 
sense. When the book came out, bishop Provoost, who was 
absent from the convention, expressed his disapproval of the 

' The language of the Largei WegtminBMT CatechUm ia similar to this, in 
the auBwsr to Qaestion 50 : " Christ's bnmiliatioD after death consisted in being 
buried and amtinuiag in the tlale of Ihe dead, and nnder the power of death, lutil 
the third day, which liaa been otherwise expressedin these words, 'He degoended 
into Hell.' " 

* From this rabrio it is manifest that, whatever interpretation the Protestant 
Episcop^ church may autharitatiTely put opon the Article, she does not regard 
the doctrine of Christ's deacent into hell as one of very grave imporlance. 



.byCOOl^lc 



1859.] The Descent of Christ into Hell. S8 

form in which this part of it appeal, more than either of the 
Article itself, as it originally stood, or of its entire omission, on 
the ground that it exacted a belief in the conscious existence of 
departed spirits between death and the resurrection.' With these 
remarks on the history of the Article in the Creed, we proceed 
to the consideration of its interpretation. 

"The intermediate state" is a form of expression used rela- 
tively of the human, rational soul, to denote its separate condU 
tion or state daring the period intervening between the death of 
an individual and his resurrection from the dead. At death a 
separation is believed to take place between the immaterial and 
material part of man; at the general resurrection a reunion will 
take place between them. And the interval of time which 
elapses between these two events, be it shorter or longer, is the 
intermediate state of the soul. The idea of an intermediate 
state is obviously grounded on the doctrine of a future literal 
resurrection of the body. Those of course who reject that doc- 
trine, or who adopt the notion of a figurative, spiritual resurrec- 
tion only, which takes place at death fe. g., the Gnostics, in the 
first period of the church, the Bogomiles, Cathari, and other 
heretical sects, in the Middle Ages, and the Sweden bo i^ans. 
Unitarians, and Pantheists in modern times), discard the idea of 
the state in question. The point when this state of temporary 
disunion between the soul and body begins, is the moment of 
the individual's death : the point when it terminates, is that of 
his rising again at the general resurrection of the dead. As the 
doctrine of a literal resurrection is maintaiaed by nearly all pro- 
fessed Christians, however they may differ in respect to the 
nature of the resurrection-body, so that of an intermediate state 
is generally admitted. According to this view, two changes are 
allotted to mankind, with the e&ception of such as shall be alive 
on the earth at the time of our Lord's second advent : the first, 
the act of passing from the present life to the state, whatever it 
is, which immediately succeeds it ; and another, from that state 
to the one which is to take place at the resurrection. What, 
then, is the condition of the soul during this intermediate period ? 
Is it in a state of perfect insensibility? of unconscious repose? 
Are all its faculties suspended, so that it is utterly incapable of 
action, of enjoyment, or of suffering? Of does it exist thus 
separated irom the body, in a state of consciousness and activity, 
and sensibility to pleasure and pain ? It has been supposed by 
some professed Christians, that at death there is a suspension of 
rational as well as of animal life. This opinion appears to rise 

' Soe BUhf.p White's SuUrry of the ProUttant Epitcopal Chureh. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



3* TRe Detcent of Ckritt into Hell. [October, 

naturally out of the systetH which maintuns, that the human 
being is entirely material, and that thought and feeling are only 
qualities of organized matter. Of course we might expect that 
such materialists as Dr. Priestley would advocate this opinion. 
Believing, as he did, that as the whole man died, so the whole 
man would be called again to life at the appointed period of the 
general resurrection, he regarded the intermediate portion of 
time as a state of utter insensibility; as a profound ^eep, from 
which the man woidd awaken, when called on by the Almighty, 
with the same asiiociations as be had when alive, without being 
conscious of the portion of time elapsed. But this sentiment is 
not confined to the materialist. It has been held by some who 
admit the immateriality of the soul, that it is distinct from the 
body, and that during the intermediate state it is separated from 
the body. These do not deny the possibility of the soul's sepa- 
rate existence in a conscious and' active slate, bat they question 
or disbelieve the fact of such existence. This opinion has been 
lately advocated with much ingenuity and plausibility by Arch- 
bishop Whately, in his View of the Scriptural Revelations con- 
cerning a Future State. The principal reasons assigned for this 
opinion are the frequent application in Scripture of the term 
" asleep " to the deceased, as characterizing their state, and the 
allusions to n particular day of judgment in which every man's 
condition will De finally fixed, and with which his happiness or 
misery is connected. The Gi-eek verb Koifia<T0ai, to sleep, is 
frequently used in the New Testament as an elegant euphemism 
for to die. See John xi. 11 ; Acts vii. 60; xiii. 36j 1 Cor. vii. 
39; xi. 30; xv. 6, 18, 20, 51; 1 Thes. iv. 13—15; 2 Peter 
iii. 4. Compare Matt, xxvii. 52. The noun Kolfit)<TK is used 
instead of death in Sir. xlvi. 22 ; xlviii. 14. The application of 
the term sleep to death in the New Testament, is evidently taken 
from the Old. See Job xiv. 12; Ps. xiii. 3. In Jer. li. 39, 57, 
the phrase perpetual sleep occurs in the same sense. Now, as a 
mere poetic euphemism, the word proves nothing in regard to 
the state or mode of the soul's existence afler death. It sheds 
no light on the question of the sensibility or insensibility, the 
consciousness or unconsciousness of the soul. Indeed, its use 
is quite compatible with an entire disbelief in the separate exist- 
ence of the soul, and even of its immortality. Thus Dr. Priestley 
represents the dead soul as asleep. The image was also very 
common among the Greek poets. Homer, narrating the sudden 
death of a warrior in battle, calls it "the iron sleep of death," 
MoschuB, in the following passage on the death of Bion (Epitaph. 
V. 105) represents death as an endless, hopeless steep — arip/iova, 
vijyperov ivpov. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] The Descent of Chritt into Hell. 

'"The meanest herb we tmmple in the field. 

Or in the garden nurture, when its leaf 

In Autumn dies, forebodes another Spring, 

And from brief slumber walcea to life again ; 

Ifan wakes no more ! Man, peerless, valiant, wise. 

Once chiU'd by deatb, sleeps hopeless in the dust, 

A long, unbroken, never-ending sleep." 



Nobis, cum semel occidit brevis lux, 
Nos est perpetua una dormienda — 
"To us, when life's brief day has once declined, 
One night, one sleep eternal, lurks behind." 

IiucretiQS is full of the same simile. Thus, lib. iii. 1100 : — 

" E'en could we life elongate, we should ne'er 
Subtract one moment from the reign of death. 
Nor the deeper slumber of the grave curtail. 
O'er ages could we triumph — death alike 
Bemains eternal— nor of shorter date 
To him who yesterday the light forsook, 
Tban him who died full many a year before." 

Sometimes, indeed, the heathen poets speak of death as a »acred 
sleep, but in a manner which leaves it doubtful whether they 
alluded to a future state. Callimachus Epigr. 10. TijBe Xaaiv 
d AUfovcxi, 'Aieiivffioi, lepov Imvov KoifjAroi' Qv^iriceiv tLijX^rov^ 
arfoBov^. 

The external similarity between a corpse and the body of a 
person asleep, doubtless gave rise to this vtus loquendt. And 
it is certaiijy a very natural and beautifiil poetic analogon. 
Whether the term sleep imports anything more than this in the 
passages of Scripture referred to above; whether it is designed 
to intimate the actual condition of the soul in the intermediate 
state, and if so, in what sense it is used, and what it is intended 
to import, are questions not easily answered. While on the one 
hand, some allege that it is designed to convey the idea that the 
deceased person ia spiritually ft. e., as to hie soul) in a condition 
resembling sleep, namely, in a state of insensibility ; on the other 
hand, others, with far greater probability, imagine that the 
figure applied, as it is, to believers, is intended to convey the 
idea, that their souls are in a state of rest, — of repose and free- 
dom from sin, temptation, toil, pain, and weariness. Applied to 
the departure and subsequent condition of a child of God, it is 
thus linked with peculiarly peaceM and tranquillizing associa- 



.byCOOl^lc 



36 The Descent tj/" Chritt into Hell. [October, 

tioBs. The idea of the total inseDsibility of the boqI in its sepa- 
rate state can hardly be reconciled with the plain teachings of 
such passages as the following : " To-day shalt thou be with me 
in Paradise." "Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall 
never die." "The God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and 
the G^d of Jacob, — he is not a God of the dead, but of the 
living, for (they) all live unto God." " Having a desire to de- 
part, and to be with Christ." " To me to live is Christ, and to 
die is gain." " We are confident, and willing rather to be ab- 
sent from the body, and to he present with the Lord." "Then 
shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall 
return unto God who gave it," The appearance of Moses and 
Elijah on the Mount of Transfiguration certainly affords strong 
support to the hypothesis of a state of activity and constnous- 
ness after death and before the final resurrection.'' But while 
the intermediate state is one of consciousness, as opposed to a 
state of profound insensibility, it is not one of trial, probation, 
or preparation, in which an opportunity is afforded to rectify 
the errors committed here, and to work out a salvation which 
we neglected here to secure. It is a state of enjoyment and 
Buffering, of reward and punishment respectively, to the pious 
and the ungodly. To this view Whately opposes the unques- 
tioned doctrine of the general judgment at the last day. If 
every man immediately at death, and before the general resur- 
rection, enters upon a state of reward and punishment, what, it 
is asked, is the necessity of a day of judgment after the resur- 
rection ? It may not be possible to give an answer to this in- 
quiry that shall be perfectly satisfactory ; for the Scriptures shed 
but little light upon the point, and it would therefore ill become 

! The English reformers were bo &cm\j persoaded of this tratfa, that Ihey 
put forth the roUowing declaration in the reign of Edward VI. as one of the 
Articles of the Chaich. It is the fortieth of the ybrfi/-fw[> Articles of 1552 : " The 
Bouls of them that depart this life do neither die with the bodies, nor sleep idly." 
" Thej which aaj that the sonls uf giich as depart hence do sleep, being withont 
all aease, feelinK, or perCBiving, until the da; of iadgnioDt, or affirm that the 
soala die with the bodies, and at the last Aa.j shall be raised op with the same, 
do utterly dissent from the right belief declared to us in Holy Scrfptnre." Kow, 
althoagh in the reTision to which the Articles were sabjected in 1562, this 
Article was omitted, there is an proof that the omiasioD arose from any ohange 
of views which had taken place in regard to the suhject-matter of the Article. 
When Archbishop Whately, therefore, appeals to the expression " &ote who ikep 
in him," in the Burial Service of the Episcopal chnrch, as, in itg most ohHoos 
and natural sense, favoring the doctrine of an uncouscious intermediate state, be 

'.ainly mistakes the import of the phrase as employed in that service. Other- 
" ■ ■ " ry clans ' ' 



wise it woald he inconsistent with the introductory iManse in the prayer which 
precedes it, qnoted in a subsequent part of this Article. Indeed, the Archbishop 
admits that the aathors of the Church -Services, at least of Uie Borial-Servico, 
appear to bave adopted the opinion, that the intermediate state is one of enjoy- 
ment and of suffering, respectively, to the faithful and th« disobedient. 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] The Descent of Christ into Hell. 27 

us to speak confidently, in relation to it. But admitting that 
the condition, as well as the locality of the soul, is substantially 
tbe same in its general character, as it will be after the general 
resarrectioa aad judgment, and difiering from it only so far as 
it may be effected by the reunion of tbe sodI and body, it iSea 
not follow that the judgment, thus partially forestalled, will be 
nnnecesaary or attended with no important effects. Ends and 
porposes under the divine goTemnsent may be accomplished by 
it, of which we can form no adequate conception. So that it 
our imperfect and limited reason should entirely fail us on this 
point, and we were unable to suggest even a plausible conjecture 
in reference to it, it would not necessarily follow that departed 
souls are in a state of profound insensibility, and incapable 
either of enjoyment, or of suffering. Though the general judg- 
ment may not materially change the previous condition of human 
bemgs in the fatnre world, it may have an important bearing on 
the character of tbe divine Betn^r. It may indeed be thought 
that the ends of justice are answered, when individuals are 
treated according to their deserte ; and as this is done, or sup- 
posed to be done, immediately after death, that no further pro- 
cedure is necessary. It is true that justice, as it respects private 
persons, consists in regulating their conduct by its dictates, in 
their transactions with their fellow beings ; and if they uniformly 
preserve inviolate the rights of others, all its demands are ful- 
filled. But the justice of a Governor belongs to the public, and 
it is expected of him, that he not only execute the laws with 
impartiality, but that his justice be exercised in such a manner 
as is most conducive to the general good. Now as Jehovah is 
the moral Governor of the world, it is not enough that he is 
just ; he must appear also to be just. The retribution which 
takes place immediately after death is unknown. The grounds 
on which the coudition of each individual is determined, are 
not apparent to us, and it may be entirely beyond our power to 
discover them. Hence a general judgment, at which all the 
descendants of Adam shall be present, and everything pertaining 
to the moral character of each other shall be disclosed, appears to 
be necessary to the perfect display of the justice of God ; to such 
a manifestation of it as will vindicate his moral government from 
all suspicion of injustice and partiality, and impress the conviction 
on the minds of all intelligent beings that he is righteous in all 
his ways and holy in all his works. — Now in whatever state the 
disembodied souls of all men are, in the same state we may pre- 
sume that the rational soul of our Saviour was during the in- 
terval between his death and resurrection. If theirs is a con- 
scious state, then such was his also. But where was that con- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



28 The Descent of Chrut into Hell. [October, 

scious state passed ? It is to this point that the article in the 
Creed relates. We proceed, therefore, to inquire into its mean- 
ing. In order to a comprehensive view of the suhject, it will 
be necessary to examine some of the most prominent interpre- 
tations which have been given of it. 

I. There is the metaphorical iaterpretatioD, first proposed 
hy Calvin. According to this, " the Descent into Hell " does 
not refer either to the body or the soul of Christ in the inter- 
mediate state, but to a period antecedent to his death. It is 
fignrativeiy descriptive of his extreme mental sufferings and 
agony in the garden and on the cross.* This interpretation be- 
came quite prevalent, for a time, in the different branches of 
the Keformed Chnrch. It is found in the Confession of Faith 
which was adopted by the English congregation at Geneva, and 
received the approval of the Chnrch of Scotland, That Con- 
fession consists of a Paraphrase on the Creed; and on the 
clauses, " dead and buried ; he descended into hell," it says : 



' The tbeory of CalTin has been frequentlr miaanderBtood and miarepre- 
wnted. BUhiqiB Horsley and IlenBhaw , and others, have charged the Reformer 
with holding; that our blesaed Lord actnaliy went down to the pUc« of torment, 
and there endared the painB of a reprobate soul. Thus Bishop Henshaw sajB : 
■'the learned Genevan reformer, John CalTin, the celebrated father of a BVBtent 
of religious faith Tvbich goes nnder his name, — in conformity to the rigid fea- 
tures of his Creed, — believed that our Lord Jeans Christ, having- died as a 
. Bnrety and aubstitnte for sinners, went down to the place of punishment pre- 
pared for the wicked, and underwent for the benefit of the elect the actual pains 
and torments of the damned in hell." (Henshftw'a Theology for the JVogie, p. 
134. Bee also Horsley's Sermon, vol. ii., p. 93.) A writer in Che CAurcA Beriiae 
for J11I7, 1S5T, gives a similar representation of Calvin' a opinion. "Calvin, 
who supposed this passage (1 Peter iii. 16, 19) to refer to our Saviour's going 
into the state of the dead, while his body was buried, feeling the force and ac- 
knowledging the true meaning of this word " prison," is more consistent ; and 
although the auprx^ition was awful, yet he faced it honestly, and anppoaed that 
onr Lord in hia Spirit and soul, spent the three days while his body lay in the 
grave, in the Gehenna, or Hell of Tormenta, working out the fall condemnatinn 
and literal torments of the loat in the piison of despair." Calvin's sentiments 
in regard to the descent are found in his Institutes. Lib. ii., chap. 16, sec. 10. 
His language is: "Si Chriatus ad inferos deacendisse dicitur, nihil mirnm est, cum 
earn mortem pertulerit, qace scelestis ah iralo Deo inSigitnr." — "If Christ is said 
to have descended into hell it is no wonder, since he suffered that death which 
is inflicted on the wicked by an angry God." " Cum duros in anima cruciatns 
damnati ac perditi h omin is pertulerit."— " Since he suffered in spirit the direful 
torments of condemned and lost man." The language of Calvin is obscure and 
liable to miseonatmction. But its import ia fully established by contemporane- 
OOB history. Indeed the Reformer was so far from holding the opinion frequently 
imputed to him, that, according to Dr. Iley, it was the increasing popniarity of 
hXB views, as we have represented them, which induced Archbishop Parker and 
the other Bishops in the reign of Elizabeth to omit that clause in the third 
article of religion, set forth in Edward's reign, in which the locm vtratiisitnui 
in 1 Peter, is applied to the literal descent of Christ into hell, because it was 
not BCDeptable to those who embraced the opinion of the Genevan Reformer. 
See H. Browne's Exposition of the Thirty-nine Articles, p. 93. 



.byCoOi^lc 



1859.] The Descent of Christ irtto Hell. 29 

"suffered his humanity to be punished with a most cruel death, 
feeling in himself the anger and severe judgment of God, even 
as if he had been in the extreme torments of hell ; and there- 
fore cried with a loud voice : " My God, My God, why hast 
thou forsaken me?" The Heidelberg Catechism, which was 
published in 1663, and is the manual of instruction for the 
German and Dutch Reformed Churches, expresses the same view. 
Question 44 asks: "Why is there added, ' ^e descended into 
hell ?' " Answer .- " That I may be assured and wholly comfort 
myself in this, that my Lord Jesus Christ, by his inexpressible 
anguish, pains, terrors, and hellish agonies, but especially on 
the cross, hath delivered me from the anguish and torments of 
heU." 

It cannot he denied that the language of the Article is, per 
M, feiriy susceptible of such an interpretation. The expression, 
" to descend into hell," may very well be employed to describe, 
in a bold, figurative manner, the extremity either of bodily or 
mental anguish, or of both combined. As men who have at- 
tained the summit of their ambition and reached the highest 
pinnacle of earthly glory, are poetically described as boasting 
that " they have readied the stars," and that " they strike the 
KtitFS with their lofty heads," so it may be said, in reference to 
the indescribable anguish to which our Saviour's soul was sub- 

i'ected in G«thsemane and on Calvary, that "he went down to 
lelt," or "to the lowest depths of bell." We find a similar 
poetic hyperbole in Isaiah xiv. 11 — Ifi, where the prophet de- 

Eicts the elevated political condition of the proud and arrogant 
ing of Babylon, and contrasts it with his subsequent fall. We 
give the passage as translated by Dr. Henderson : — 

11. Th; pomp ib brought down to aieol (^^«), 
And the sounding of tby barps ; 

Under thee is spread putridity ; 
And the worms are thy covering. 

12. How art thou/allenfrom Aeavtn, 
lUustrioua son of the Morning ; 
How art thou felled to the ground. 
That didst discomfort the nations. 

13. Thou saidst in thine heart, IwUitealt the htavent; 
Above the itart <^ Qod I mU raise my throne j 

1 will sit on the mount of the aaBembly, in the recesses of the north ; 

14. / Ktil atcetui above the heighti qf the cloiidt ; 
I will make myself like tbe Moat High. 

16. But thou art bronght down to Sheol (ffijc). 
To tbe recesses of tbe pit. 

A similar hyperbole is employed by our Saviour when he 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



30 The Descent of Christ into Hell. [October, 

says of Capernaum that, although at that time "exalted to 
heaven," in respect to privilegeB, it should be " thrust down to 
hell." Comp. also Pb. Ixxxviii. 3, 6 ; xriii. 4, 5 ; cxvi. 3. 

But although the words, taken hy themselves, will bear the 
construction put upon them by Calvin, this cannot be their 
meaniug in the Creed as it now stands. The connexion obvi- 
ously forbids it. The relative position which the clause occupies, 
after the burial and before the resurrection, compels us to un- 
derstand it as referring to some event which transpired subse- 
quent to the interment and not prior to the death of Christ. 
There are, moreover, insuperable objections to this interpreta- 
tion. Such a bold, figurative mode of interpretation is wholly 
out of place in a document of this kind, and inconsistent with 
the general character of the Creed. A confession of faith, 
designed to receive the assent and credence of all classes of 
people, should doubtless be couched in literal terms, and ex- 
pressed in as plain, simple, and perspicuous a manner as possible. 
We do not look for figures of speech in such an instrument. 
They would be inappropriate and incongruous. Now the Apos- 
tles' Creed corresponds, in this respect, ,to what a creed should 
be. Nothing can be plainer and more easily comprehended, for 
the most part, than this ancient symbol. 

Besides, it is fatal to the interpretation, that doctrinally it 
has no scriptural basis to rest upon. Where, within the Sacred 
Volame, is it said that Christ suffered the torments of the 
damned, either on the cross or in the abode of lost spirits? 
Indeed, it would seem to be inconceivable that be should have 
suffered them. For the worm that never dies could not possibly 
have gnawed his sinless soul ; remorse of conscience, a capital 
ingredient in the misery of the lost, he could not have endured. 

Nor would it seem to be at all necessary to the work of 
Atonement, that he should thus suffer. The mediatorial suffer- 
ings of Christ were not strictly penal, but simply vicarious. 
They were an equivalent substitution for the penalty due to sin- 
ners, but not the penalty itself, either in kind or quantity. 
They answered the same purpose, and accomplished the same 
righteous ends, in the moral government of (rod ; and that was 
all, in the way of equivalency and substitution, which the nature 
of the case required, or which the sinless Jesus could render. 
If, in order to render the substitution undertaken by our Savi- 
our in behalf of sinners effective, it were necessary that he 
should endure the literal penalty of the law, the very punish- 
ment denounced upon transgressors, then we might be com- 
pelled to admit that he must have suffered the torments of the 
lost, either on the cross or in Gehenna. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] The Descent of Christ into Hell. 31 

II. The descent of Christ into hell is supposed, by aome, to 
import nothing more than that he went into the state of the dead. 
This appears to have been the prevalent opinion among the 
Westminster divines; for in the Shorter Catechism, appended 
to the Westminster Confession, there ia inserted the Apostles' 
Creed, and to the clause " he descended into hell," is annexed 
the follovring explanatory note : " that is, continued iu the state 
of the dead, and under the pover of death, until the third day." 
This explanation appears also in the answer to question 50 of 
the Larger Catechism : " Christ's humiliation after death con- 
sisted in being buried and continuing in the state of the dead 
and under the power of death, until the third day, which hath 
been otherwise expressed in these words : ' He descended into 
hell.'" If this means simply that Christ was dead for the space 
of three days, or a part erf three days, the fact will not be dis- 
puted : but can the Hebrew word Sheol, or the Greek Hades, 
or the English Hell, be made to signify a »tate or condition of 
being? We think not. The Hebrew word, when used in a 
literal sense, always imports a place, a local habitation, and 
never a state. So it has been generally understood, both iu 
ancient and in modern times. Besides, the phrase he descended 
into the state of the dead, can properly signity only, he died; 
a ^t which has been already declared in a previous Article of 
the Creed. This, then, cannot be the meaning of the clause ; 
for it would be not only tautological, but out of place, to afSrm 
the death of Christ here. 

III. Beza and others maintain that this Article refers to the 
dead body of Christ, and is equivalent to he descended into the 
ffrave." This is the interpretation of Dr. Barrow and Wm. 
Perkins. It is a remarkable circumstance that iu the early 
creeds in which this clause is fonnd, the burial of Christ is not 
mentioned. Thus in the creed of the church of Aquileia, the 
words are : " crucified under Pontius Pilate, he descended ad 
infema. The same remark applies also to the Athanasian Creed, 
which has the descent, but not the sepulture ; " who suffered for 
our salvation, descended into bell (et? aSov), rose again, on the 
third day, from the dead," The omission of the burial, in these 
creeds, could hardly have been undesigned, inasmuch as it is 
found in all, or nearly all, previous creeds and confessions. 
Hence there would seem to be force in the remark of Rufinus, 
that " though the Soman and Oriental churches had not the 
words, yet they had the sense of them in the word buried.'" 



...CbyCOOl^lC 



82 The Descent of Chritt into HeU. [October, 

TJie Latin infemum or ir\fema properly signifies the lower parts, 
or what is beneath the surface of the earth ; and is synonymous 
with the Qreek KarayBovM, subterkaneaNj which is found in 
the creed of Ariminum, a,d. 359. So inferi Kud {rtro)(66pioi are 
applied to those who inhabit the abodes of the dead. In the 
Athanasian creed, the word ^£t)^ was first introduced in the 
place of KaTayQhvia. The word KarmTara, is found in some 
creeds instead of ^Sijf and KourayQavia., with evident allusion io 
Eph. iv. 9, where the phrase rh, Karwrepa fUpt} t^? yijv, the lower 
parts of the earth, has been understood by many commentators 
to denote the grave. (Comp. the Heb. Y7! f^''?TOj Sept. Karw- 
rara t^s yijs, Ps. Ixiii, 10.) In further support of this inter- 
pretation, it has been alleged that the Heb. Sheoi (^, LXX. 
SSijf), in Fs. svi. 9, a passage on which the Article in the Creed 
IS chiefly founded, signifies the grave. That the word Sheol 
(fMt), which commouly signifies the region or abode of the dead, 
ia sometimes employed with specific reference to the grave or 
the receptacle of the dead body, cannot well be doubted. See 
Ps. vi. 6; exli. 7; Isa. xxxriii. 18, 19; Ezek. xxxii. 27; Eccl. 
ix. 10 (comp. Sirac. xvii. 27). 

An account, however, of the origin of the clause in the creed 
of Aquileia has been given which, if correct, would militate 
against this interpretation. It is said that the Article was intro- 
duced for the purpose of counteracting the Apolliuarian heresy. 
This heresy took its name from Apollinaris the Younger, bishop 
of Laodieea (Syria), who died between 4.d. 380 and 392. The 
time when he first promulgated his heresy is not precisely 
known. He was not anathematized by name till the second 
general council of Constantinople, a.d. 381 ; but nineteen years 
before (a.d. 362) his heresy was condemned by a synod at 
Alexandria without mentioning the name of the author; also by 
another at Borne, a.d. 373. This heresy consisted in denying 
to Christ the possession of a human rational soul, and main- 
taining that its place was supplied by his divine nature. To 
hear testimony against this heresy, and virtually to affirm that 
Christ Jesus was a perfect man, composed of body and soul, 
the Article, it is said, was inserted, declaring his descent, as to 
his rational soul, ad mferna, into the abode of departed souls. 
That the Article in question vtas subsequently appealed to by 
the orthodox, in refutation of this error, cannot be disputed; 
but if it were originally inserted for this purpose, it is quite ex- 
traordinary that Bufinns, in his exposition of the Creed, does 

ChriBt'B burial not beiog mentioned in them, it follows that thsy mideratood the 
desoent into hell only of hii bnrial ot descent into the grave, aa the word is 
otherwiBe tranibtted in the Bible." 



.byCOOl^lc 



X 



1859.] The Descent of Chritt into Hell. 83 

not allude to it. But whatever may have been the occasion of 
its iusertioD, or whatever the sense in which it was originally 
understood, it is plain that ever since its introduction into the 
Konian Creed, where it was first appended to the burial, it must 
have had a meaning distinct from the sepulture of Jesus. 

IV. Another interpretation which has been given of this 
Article is, that Christ descended into the place of future punish- 
ment (Gehenna). This view was adopted by some of the later 
Fathers, and prevailed quite extensively during the Middle 
Ages in connexion with the doctrine of purgatory. By the 
Protestant Reformers the notion of pni^atory was universally 
rejected; but their views with respect to the intermediate state, 
and the descent of Christ into hell were very diverse and un- 
settled. That our Lord went down to the abode of condemned 
spirits, however, was very generally entertained by them, though 
they differed considerably as to the object of his mission. Some 
thought it was to suffer the punishment inflicted on the lost in 
their own miserable abode. Others, that it was to display to 
those who were consigned to everlasting punishment, and even 
to the fallen angels themselves, the power of his kingdom and 
the victory which he had obtained over sin, and to triumph over 
Satan in his own peculiar dominion. Others, that it was for the 
purpose of preaching the Gospel to lost spirits, and especially 
to the impenitent who were swept away by the Noachian 
deluge, to whom he announced the atonement which he had 
made for men; offered them pardon through his merits, and in- 
vited them to share in the blessings of salvation. By the church 
of England the strict literal sense of the descent into the place 
of punishment was first adopted. In the Book of Common 
Prayer published in the fourth year of Edward, A.u. 1552, the 
third article of religion reads as follows : " As Christ died for 
us, and was buried, so also is it to be believed that he went 
down into hell ; for his body lay in the grave till his resurrec- 
tion, but his soul being separate from his body remained with 
the spirits which were detained in prison, that is to say in hell, 
and there preached unto them." In the short Catechism set 
forth by royal authority in the following year, the descent ia 
thus explained : " That he truly died, and was truly buried, that 
by his most sure sacrifice he might pacify his Father's wrath 
against mankind, and subdue him by his death, who had the 
authority of death, which is the Devil ; forasmuch as not only 
the living but the dead, were they in hell or elsewhere, they all 
felt the power and force of his death, to whom lying in prison 
(as Peter saith) Christ preached, though dead in body, yet re- 
lieved in spirit." In a synod which was held ten years afler 
VOL. X. NO. XIX. D /-^ I 

D,g,l,..cbyCjOO^^IC 



84 The De»ceni of Ckrat into Hell. [October, 

(a.d. 1662), ia the reign of Elizabeth, the explanatory clause 
was stricken out of the article of religion. The precise import 
of Christ's descent was thus left indeterminate, and it has ever 
since remained an open question in the Church of England. 
Archbishop Parker is supposed to have been induced to omit the 
explanatory clause in consequence of the representation of the 
Bishop of Exeter, who in a paper prepared for the synod de- 
clared, that there had been " great invectives in his diocese be- 
tween preachers on this article; some holding that the going 
down of Christ to hell was nothing else but, that the virtue and 
strength of bis death should be made known to them that were 
dead before ; others maintaining that it only means, he sustained 
upon the cross the infernal pains of hell, when he cried out : 
Why hatt thou forsaken me ? Finally, there are persona who 
preach, that this Article is not contained in other symbols ; and 
all these sayings they ground upon Erasmus and the Germans, 
especially Calvin and Bullinger ; the contrary side bringing for- 
ward to their support the universal consent of the Fathers of 
both Churches."" The effect of this omission of the reference 
to Peter's Epistle appears to have been to allay for some time 
the controversy which had arisen on this subject. The extreme 
view, however, continued to be held by some. It ia atrongly ad- 
vocated by Dr. Fiddes, and by Bishop Beveridge, in his Exposi- 
tion of the Thirty-nine Articles. In support of this interpretation, 
appeal is made to the plain, literal meaning of the Article itself. 
And it must be confessed that, if the language be constmed 
according to ita customary use at the present day, the Article 
does obviously imply two things. 1. That Christ went as to his 
human soul to the place of punishment, and 2. that this place 
of punishment or hell, is situated beneath the earth. Such is 
the meaning which every English reader would naturally pnt 
upon it. No doubt the Sason word Hell was originally em- 
ployed in the general comprehensive sense of the Greek Hade$, 
and was appropriately adopted to represent it. But such ia not 
now the case. The word hell has ceased to be used in the wide, 
indefinite sense once attached to it, and ia now employed speci- 
fically and exclusively to designate the place of future puniah- 
meat. Thus far, then, the advocates of this opinion have terra 
firma to rest upon. But in further support of thia view they 
appeal to 1 Peter iii. 19, 20; (comp. chap. iv. 6;) Col. ii. 15; 
Eph. iv. 8, 9; {comp. Ps. Isviii. 18;) Bom. x. 6, and Pa. xvi. 
10; (comp. Acts ii. 31.) That these paasages of Scripture do 
not prove the doctrine which they are here adduced to establish, 

" Strype'i AmiaU, i., c 31 ; and Life rfForlcer, i., 513. Hardwick, p. 1S2. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] The Descent of CMst into Hell. 35 

will be ahewn uader another bead. Suffice it to a&j, that the 
deacent of Christ into hell, as thus explained, is uow univer- 
sally abandoned. We know of no respectable writer who would 
now advocate this extreme opinion, notwithstanding its accord- 
ance with the literal and obvious construction of the Article. 

V. Another interpretation which has been given of the 
descent of Christ into hell, and which is entitled to particular 
notice, la developed in the following theory. There ia in addi- 
tion to, and distinct from, heaven and hell, a third place or 
locality of departed sonla in the invisible world. This particnlur 
locality is called in Hebrew Sheol, iu Greek, Hades, and in 
Latin infemua Orcus, and is situated under the ground, some- 
where beneath the surface, or as some suppose, in a cavity at the 
very centre of the earth. This is the peculiar abode of the 
disembodied sonls of all those who have departed thia life, 
whether good or bad, during the intermediate state, where they 
respectively enjoy comparative happiness or endure comparative 
miseiy. At the general resurrection, they will leave this tem- 
porary abode, become reunited to their former bodies, and either 
ascend to heaven or go to hell (Gehenna), according to the deci- 
sion of the final judgment, when the felicity of the pious and 
the misery of the wicked will be complete. This subterranean 
abode is supposed to consist of two distinct compartmeats, 
having no connexion with each other, but separated by an im- 
passable gulf. One of these, called Paradise and Abraham's 
bosom, is the abode of the pious dead ; the other, denominated 
Tartarus, the Abyss, Gehenna, or else without a specific name, is 
the abode of the ungodly. Now it is alleged that the rational 
soul of our Saviour descended to this general locality of souls, 
and remained during his intermediate state in that department 
of Hades, which is occupied by the pioua dead. Hugh Brongh- 
ton, a learned Oriental scholar of England [a.d. 1597), appears 
to have been among the first to advocate this opinion in that 
country, which at first gave great offence to the older divines 
who had embraced the views of Calvin ; among whom waa 
Archbishop Whitgift. At length, however, the Archbishop 
abandoned his former opinions and adopted those of Broughtou. 
Since that period the views of the distinguished Orientalist 
have been gaining ground in the Church of England. One of 
the most distinguished and ingenious advocates of this theory in 
recent times in Bishop Horsley," whose views were embraced by 
Bishop Hobart, and reproduced by him in a Dissertation on the 
State of the Departed ori^ally published in 1816. — " He, (». e. 

■ In luB Sermons, origiiuU]3r pnbUshed in 1810. 

T?. .Google 



86 The Descent of Christ into Hell. [October, 

Chrirt) descended to hell properly ao called," says Bishop Hora- 
ley, "to the invisible mansion of departed Bpirits, and to that 
part of it where the soula of the faithful, when they are delivered 
from the burden of the flesh, are in joy and felicity." 

In regard to the local Hluation of Hades, the Bishop says, 
" It is evident that this must he some place below the surface of 
the earth ; for it is said that he (Christ) ' descended,' i. e., went 
down to it. Our Lord's death took place upon the surface of 
the earth, where the human race inhabit; that, therefore, and 
none higher, is the place from which he descended ; of conse- 
quence, the place to which he went by descent was below it ; 
and it is with relation to those parts below the surface, that his 
rising to life on the third day must be understood." In refer- 
ence to the same point, Greswell, a learned living divine of the 
Church of England, in bis elaborate work on the Parables, 
undertakes to shew : 1. that Hades is under the ground ; and 2. 
that it is the deepest point within the earth. With regard to 
the latter point, he comes to the sage conclusion that the locality 
of Hades is at, or about, the centre of the earth. " For since,'* 
says he, "it must be equally true of the relative position of 
Hades to all parts of the surface of the earth, that it is alike 
within the earth, alike beneath in reference to all parts of the 
surface, and alike at the same point of extreme depth beneath, 
in reference to the surface; it does not seem possible to explain 
this community of relation in the position of Hades to all parts 
of the earth's exterior surface, consistently with a well-ascer- 
tained physical fact, the spherical form of the earth, escept by 
supposing its true position to be at or about the centre of the 
sphere itself." The same writer proceeds to shew that Hades is 
divided into distinct regions, relatively situated with respect to 
each other, as a higher point in regard to a locality would be to 
a lower; and then, that though the soula of all men pass into 
Hades by death, aa the common receptacle of the dead, they do 
not all pass into the same locality oi Hades, but the souls of the 
good are received into one locality, viz., the higher or upper 
region, and the souls of the bad into another, viz., the nether 
region. Thus we have the map of this imaginary country spread 
out before us, and the whole delineated with as much minute- 
ness as if the learned author had himself been a visitant and 
eye-witnesa of it. 

The olfject of Chriat'a deacent into Hades is thus described 
by Bishop Horsley : " That he should go to this place was a ne- 
cessary branch of the general scheme and project of redemption, 
which required that the divine Word should take our nature 
upon him, and fulfil the entire condition of humanity, in every 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] 7%c Descent qf Christ into Hell. 37 

period and atage of man's existence, from the commencement of 
life in the mother's womb to the extinction and renovation of it. 
The same wonderful scheme of humiliation which required that 
the Son should be conceived, and bom, and put to death, made 
it equally necessary that his soul, in its intermediate state, 
should he gathered to the souls of the departed saints." This 
theory, in regard to the intermediate place and the descent of 
Christ into hell, is alleged to be the doctrine of Scripture, of the 
early Church, and of the Protestant Episcopal Chnrch. 

1 . The passages of Scripture which are chiefly relied upon to 
sustain this view are five, viz.. Psalm xvi. 9; Luke xxiii. 43; 
xvi. 23, 24; Eph. iv. 9, 10, and 1 Peter iii. 18—20. 

Psalm xvi. 9, "Thou wilt not leave my soul in hell; neither 
wilt thou suffer thy holy one to see corruption." There can be 
no reasonable doubt among all those who hold to the inspiration 
of the apostles, that this passage is prophetical of the Messiah. 
For Peter and Paul both refer it to Jesus of Nazareth in proof 
of his Messiahship, and shew that it was fulfilled in him and in 
him alone (Acts ii. 25—31; xiii. 35—37). It is, moreover, 
generally regarded as the principal passage, if not the only one, 
on which the Article of Christ's descent into hell was originally 
founded ; and there can be little doubt that the word aSrji; was 
inserted in the Athanasian Creed, in the place of Karax66vui, to 
make it more nearly conform to this place. The only question, 
then, is with respect to its meaning. In its most comprehensive 
sense, it includes the entire domain of death : the locdity of the 
body and the locality of the soul. It occurs sixty-four times 
in the Old Testament, and in several instances it appears mani- 
festly to be used with special reference to the locality of the 
body, i, e., the grave, the sepulchre ; and so the learned trans- 
lators of our Authorized Version understood it, for in thirty- 
one instances (viz., Qen. xxxvii. 35 ; xlii. 38 ; xliv. 29, 31 ; 1 
Sara. ii. 6; 1 Kings ii. 6, 9; Job rii. 9; xiv. 13; svii. 13; 
xxi. 13; xxi^. 19; Psajm vi. 5; xxx. 3; xxxi. 17; xlix. 14 (twice), 
15; Ixxxviii. 3; kxxix. 48; clvi. 7; Prov. i. 12; xxx. 16; Eccl. 
ix. 10; Cant. viii. 9; Isaiah xiv. 11; xisviii. 10, 18; Ez. xxxi. 
11; Hosea siii. 14 (twice), they have rendered it grave; and 
in three instances (Num. xri. 30, 31 ; Job xvii. 16), ^i. 

That pious men among the ancient Hebrews entertained not 
only a hope, but an influential belief in a future conscious state 
of existence, seems clear from many passages of Scripture, both 
in the Old and New Testament. They looked forward, at death, 
to another and a better country, even a heavenly. At the 
same time it is manifest that their riews and conceptions, in 
regard to that future state of immortality, the condition of the soul 



88 The Deaeent of Christ iiUo Hell. [October, 

in that state, its precise locality, etc., vere exceedingly ragne, 
indefinite, and obBCore. The whole subject was involved in a 
dense cloud, which they were unable to penetrate. They knew 
not what became of the rational soul after its separation from 
the body ; but as the body was deposited in the grave, so they 
im^ned that the soul might descend with it, and occupy a 
place more or less remote from it. Hence the word Sheol 
was employed to denote, generically, the entire region, the tub- 
terranean dwelUng-place, of the dead ; not exclusively or chiefly, 
perhaps, the receptacle of the dead body, but also the abode of 
the disembodied souls of all those who had passed through the 
gates of death, irrespective of their previous character or their 
present condition as happy or unhappy. They had no idea of 
an intermediate state or an intermediate place, because they had 
no idea of a resurrection and transference to another abode, 
unless the celebrated passage in Job xix. 25 be thought to inti- 
mate the contrary. They appear to have regarded Sheol as the 
final abode, both of the righteous and the wicked. To the one 
it was supposed to be a place of happiness ; to the other, of 
misery. It covered all they knew about futurity. It was their 
heaven and their hell. It was not, then, such a place, accord- 
ing to the conceptions of the early Hebrews, as the advocates 
of this hypothesis represent it to have been. 

Now the word Sheol [or Hades) occurs in the passage from 
the Psalmist under consideration; and the inference deduced 
from it is, that our Saviour, as to his rational soul, went down 
to the general receptacle of sools, situated somewhere under 
the earth, or as Greswell says, in a hollow cavity at the centre 
of the earth, and there took up its abode during its separate 
state. On this passage we remark: 1. That the gener^ and 
comprehensive term Sheol may be here employed with particnlar 
reference to the receptacle of the body, the grave, as one depart- 
ment of the invisible world, or world of the dead. 

The Hebrew term employed by the Psalmist and here trans- 
lated hell is Sheol (^iMtf), which the authors of the Septuagint 
Greek version have uniformly (with only one or two exceptions) 
represented by Hades (jtSij?). The etymology of the word is 
uncertain. Some lexicDgraphere derive it from ^m^, in the sense 
oi to ask, crave, demand, require, seek for, etc., and they suppose 
that it is employed to designate the grave, or the region of the 
dead, as rapacious, craving, never satisfied, like the orciM rapax 
of Catullus, the apwawrj;? of Callimachus, and the English phrase 
insatiable sepulchre (see Hab. ii. 5 and Prov. xsx. 15, 16, where 
there is thought to be au allusion to this derivation). Others 
derive the word from ^, in the sense of to excavate, to hollow 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] The Descent qf Ckriit into Hell. 39 

out, like the obsolete root Sj^ and put for Vw^, a cavity, a hollow, 
subterranean place, juat as the German kolle, hell, is origiQally 
the same with Hohle, a hollow cavern; — and the Latin ccelum is 
from the Greek xoiXof, hollow. The etymology ia not of much 
importance, ainee use, and not derivation, is the true standard 
by which the meaning of a word is most properly ascertained. 
At the same time the etymology of the word, whether we derive 
it from M, taken in the sense of to ask, or in that of to exca- 
vate, would justify ua in supposing that it might appropriately 
be employed to designate the grave, notwithstanding the exist- 
ence of a less poetic, more limited and specific term (-u^ to 
denote the locality of the dead body. The term Sheol is clearly 
of a generic character, and signifies the world, or region of the 
dead. It cannot be shewn from the word itself merely, that it 
refers exclusively to the locality of the aoul. 2. That such is 
the meaning here is rendered quite probable, if not certain, 
from the parallelism. Geaenius, De Wette, Hengstenbei^, and 
others maintain that md in the following hemistich translated 
after the Septuagint (Sto^ofuQ corruption, signifies the pit, 
which is but another name for the grave. The noun occurs 
twenty-two times in the Old Testament ; thirteen times it is 
rendered in our Authorized Version, pit; once, grave; twice, 
ditch; twice, destruction, and four times (Job xvii. 14; Pa. xvi. 
10; xlix. 9; Jonah ii. 6) corruption. By comparing the passages 
any one can see that in two of the places in which it is trans- 
lated corruption (Psalm xlix, 9; and Jonah ii. 6), it might more 
properly be rendered grave and pit. But whether we render it 
here by pit or corruption, ia immaterial to our a^nment ; for in 
either case, it refers to the body. 3. If it could be shewn that 
Sheol must here denote specifically the abode of the rational 
soul, it would not follow that this is located under the earth. 
For the mere circumstaDce that such was the popular belief or 
conjecture of the ancient Hebrews, would not prove this to be 
the fact. There is no evidence that they obtained this informa- 
tion from direct revelation. On this point the Hebrews may 
have been, and doubtless were, mistaken. 4. There is no proper 
antithesis between mtg CsoulJ in the first member of the verae and 
the corresponding word Ton fholy one) in the second, which 
requires us to understand the former of the rational soul. The 
word ^ may be here, as it often is elsewhere, an idiomatic 
periphrasis for the personal pronoun and equivalent to <rtM me. 
If BO, then the distich forms a synonymous parallelism, and 
may be rendered, 

" Thou wiJt not leave (abandon) me to tbe grave ; 
Thou wilt not buSbt thy Holy One to see (experience) corruption." 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC ■ 



40 7%€ Daeent of Chriit into Hell. [October, 

To this it has beea objected that Peter, in quoting the 
passage as prophetical of the Messiah (A.Gt8 ii. 35 — 31), laj^ an 
etnphaaia on the word ^'vp^ f'oulj, and that consequently be 
designed to discriminate between the soul and the body of Jesus, 
as if the one were in the receptacle of tpirita, and the other in 
the grave. Bat it cannot he satisfactorily established that such 
emphasis exists. Indeed the reading '^■i^ a^rot) of the Textus 
Keceptus in ver. 31, is a very doubtfal one. The words are not 
found in several of the oldest and best MSS. (ABC D), nor in 
the Vnlg., Syr., Copt., tiahid., and Arab. (Erpenian) Tcrsions; and 
are either cancelled or bracketed in all critical editions of the 
New Testament. That no emphasis is to be sought in the word, 
is clearly manifest, we think, from the manner in which both 
Peter and Paul refer to the passage. Paul does not quote the 
first member of the verse at all (Acts siii. 36), but doei lay an 
emphasis on the word Suaj>0op(i (rr>«), com^tion, in the second 
clause : " For David, after he had served his generation by the 
will of God, fell on sleep (t. e., died), and was laid unto his 
fathers, and saw corruption. But he, whom God raised again, 
saw no corruption " (ver. 86, 37). The sole purpose, moreover, 
for which both the apostles appeal to the passage, is simply to 
shew that the resurrection of the Messiah from the dead was the 
subject of ancient prophecy, and that Jesus by rising from the 
dead without experiencing corruption or the destruction of his 
body, was consequently the Messiah. They direct particular 
attention to the death, burial, and resurrection of the uncor- 
rupted body of Jesus, and pass over the intervening period and 
all that related to it, with the least possible uotice (see Acts ii. 
29). Paul also in bis first Epistle to the Corinthians, makes 
distinct mention of the death, bunal, and resurrection of Christ, 
as topics upon which he had frequently discoursed to them (xv. 
3, 4), but passes over his intermediate existence in the world of 
spirits in silence. On the whole, then, we think that this loeut 
cltuaictig affords very little support to the theory which it is 
brought to sustain. 

3. Another passage which is relied upon to establish the 
theory of a third subterranean place of the departed, is the 
declaration of our Saviour on the cross to the penitent robber : 
"This day shall thou be with me in paradise" [Luke xxiii. 43). 
It is alleged that the paradise here spoken of could not have 
been heaven, because our Saviour said to his disciples after his 
resurrection : " Touch me not, for I have not yet ascended to 
my Father/' i.e., to heaven. Hence it is inferred that paradise 
is the name given to the upper compartment in Hades, or the 
underworld. And in support of this view an appeal is made to 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] The Descent of Christ into Hell. 41 

the usua loquendi of the sacred, the Jewish, and the early Chris- 
tian writers. It becomes necessary, therefore^ to esamine these 
sources of evidence. And, first, what is the Biblical use of the 
word paradise? The word is of Eastern origin. It was a 
name commoii to several of the Oriental languages {e.ff., the 
Sanscrit, Armenian, Arabic, and Syriac), but especially current 
among the Persians. From these it passed into the Hebrew, 
the Greek, and the Latin, and consequently into all the Western 
languages. Its proper signification in the East was a beautiful 
garden, a park, a pleasure ground. The earliest instance that 
we have of it in Greek {trapSheKro^) is in the Cyropadia and 
other writings of Xenophon, about 400 years before Christ. 
The circumstance which has giveD*to this term its extensire and 
popular use is its having been employed by the Greek trans- 
lators of the LXX. and afterwards in the Syriac version, and by 
Jerome in the Latin Yulg., as a translation of the' garden (ji) in 
which our first parents were placed. The word belongs to the 
later Hebrew, and occurs (btw, pardees) only in three places in 
the Old Testament {Neh. ii. 8 i Eccles.ii.5; Cant. iv. 13). In 
the first of these it is rendered /ore»f; in the other two, orchard. 
In the Apocryphal book of Susanna, the word occurs constantly 
in the sense of garden. So Sirac. zxiv. 30. Josephus calls the 
gardens of Solomon in the plardl paradises (Ant^vin., 7, 3). From 
a literal sense it came at length to be used metaphorically to 
denote the abstract idea of exquisite delight (Sirac. xl. 17, 27) ; 
and then it became a symbolical name for heaven, the happy 
region of the blessed, the dweUing -place of God, of Christ, of 
holy angels, and of the spirits of the just make perfect,— the 
house of many mansions which Jesus has gone to prepare for his 
faithfiil followers. In the New Testament the word occurs three 
times (2 Cor. sii. 4; Rev. ii. 7 ; and Luke xxiii, 43). lu the 
first passage, Paul speaks of himself as having been caught up 
into paradise." In verse 2, he says that he was caught up into 

• Our argament does sot require tbat any atreaa should be laid on the par- 
ticle up in oui EDglish version. The verb ipwi^a (rer. 4) does not of iUelf indi- 
cate the direction of motion, but only the suddeuDesE of the action, and the 
pasaiveness of the object. We ma; therefore translate vms enalched, caught, or 
carried away into paradiae (see Matt. liii. 19 j Acts viii. 30). The same word, 
however, occorB in ver. 2, and andoubtedly in the same sense, whore Paul is 
said to have been caught up (ifnryitra) into or unto {tut) the third heavea. Now 
;r »_. ..(.».. -.'.~.™.-; .'g identical in import with tfi fir irapiStteov, or at least ar 



a equivi , „ , - - 

tapaiiiiTiit ia found, as seems to be quite certain, thanparadlie cannot bo the 

ical writer 
avenuTider 
:en always 
the Btderal 

vCooi^lc 



happy region or aide of the anderworld, as is imagined ; for no Biblical writer 
with whom we are acquunted, has ever thought ot placiug the third heaven uruhr 
the earth. Forasinuch, then, aa the third or highest heaven has been always 
nndenitood and represented to be far ab<nie the earth, and bejond the stdera] 



42 The Detceni of Chrtat into Hell. [October, 

the third heaven. The two, then, are identical. Some com- 
mentators, it is true, seek to prevent this inference b; alleging 
that the apostle refers to two separate visions occurring on dif- 
ferent occasions, in one of which the scene is laid in Heaven, 
and in the other in Hades ; and that consequently paradise and 
the third hearen are not the same. But this allegation is inca- 
pable of proof, and altogether improbable. There can be no 
reasonable doubt that verses 2 and 3 contain, not a fresh 
assumption, but merely a solemn repetition of what is affirmed 
in verse 2, with the additional particular of Paul's having had 
unspeakable revelations made to him. Even Olshausen, who 
makes a distinction between the upper and the lower paradise, 
and supposes the latter to be* situated in the happy portion of 
Sheol, maintains that, in this place, the two expressions used by 
the apostle refer to the same thing, and denote the most exalted 
region of light, the immediate presence of God. The same re- 
mark applies to Alford. 

la the second passage (Rev. ii. 7) we find the following 
declaration. " To lum that overcometh will I give to eat of the 
tree of Ufe, which is in the midst of the para£ae of God." In 
this place the word paradise is universally admitted to signify 
without doubt heaven, considered as a place of exquisite dehgbt. 
The usage of the term in the two passages which have been con- 
sidered, warrants us in putting the same interpretation upon it 
in the only remaining passage in which it occurs, unless there 
he something special and peculiar in it which requires a different 
construction. But we can discover nothing of this sort. The 
objection that our Saviour did not ascend to heaven until some 
time after his crucifixion, is more specious than solid. It is true 
that, as to his human body, of which be was speaking, he did 
not immediately ascend ; but he certainly did as to his divine 
nature, and so also, as we think, as to his human soul. Let us 
now inquire into the Rabbinical use of the word paradise. The 
language of Paul and of John, not to say of our Saviour, im- 
plies a prior belief among the Jews, or at least of some among 
them, that paradise waa in heaven. Without this the apostles 
would hardly have been understood. This statement is corro- 
borated by one of Wetatein's quotations appended to Luke xxiii. 
43. Cha^ga. fol. 14. 2. " Four have entered paradise by the 
hand of Ood."'' The application of this term to denote the hap- 



he&TeD8, BO ipnCC" """y ^^tb in both inatancea of its occarrence very praperlj' 
from the adjunct acquire the meaniog of to eatch or tnalth up, a« it ie rendered 
not onlv in our EngUsli Bible, bnt by most tmnBltttors (see also 1 TbeBs. iv. 17 ; 
Eev. 111. 5.) 
' See Huii 

lata the Underworid, p. 107. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



1859.] The Descent of Ckritt into HeU. 43 

pineas of the righteoas in the fatare state, originated, according 
to J. Fye Smith (Kitto'a Cyc.) with the Jews of the middle 
period between the Old and New Testameat. " In the Chaldee 
Targums ' the garden of Eden' is put aa the exposition of hea- 
venly blessedness (Pa, xc. 17, and other places). The Talnrn- 
dical writings, dted by the elder Buxtorf {Lex. Chald. et Taltn., 
p. 1802) and John James Wetetein [N. T. Gt., vol. i., p. 819), 
contain frequent references to paradise as the immortal heaven, 
to which the spirits of the just are admitted, immediately upon 
their liberation from the body. The book of Sohar speaks of an 
earthly and a heavenly paralyse, of which the latter excels the 
former as mnch as darkness does light. (Schoettgen, Hor. 
Hebr., vol. i., p. 1096.") There can be no doubt, therefore, that 
the word was used by the Jewish doctors in the time of our 
Saviour, in the sense in which it is used in the New Testament 
to designate the heavenly world. We now turn to the Patrisiie 
use of the word. The following passages will shew how the 
Antenicene Fathers were in the habit of employing the term. 
Origen believes in a twofold paradise. The former he located in 
the third heaven ; the other on earth. Of the former he affirms 
that Paul heard in the third heaven what, according to his own 
quotation immediately preceding, he beard in paradise.? In this 
paradise Adam had originally been. "The Lord God," says 
Origen, who was a believer in the pre-existence of souls, " cast 
him out of paradise, and placed him over against the paradise of 
delights, and this was the punishment of his fault, which has 
certainly passed upon all men."'' Of the earthly paradise he 
says : " I think that whoever departs this life in holiness will 
remain in a certidn place on earth which the Scriptures call 
paradise, as in a place of instruction. If any one is clean in heart, 
and particularly pure in mind and quick in the use of his facul- 
ties, he will depart at an early day, and ascend without delay to 
the region of the air, and will finally arrive at the kingdom of 
the heavens."' 

Tertallian represents opponents as maintaining the soul's 
direct departure at death to paradise, which he meets by the 
question ; " How will the soul be exhaled into heaven" prior to 
tiie judgment?' It would seem then that these opponents, who- 
ever they may have been, placed paradise in heaven, not in the 
underworld. Tertullian himself sometimes places paradise in 
heaven; into which, however, he contends that only martyrs 
are transferred immediately after this life. " No one," he says, 

» FragmeTita, vol. iv., P. GM. A. See Hnidekoper, p. 108. 

' Cornmenl. in Bom., lib. ». 4. 0pp., toI. iv., p. 566. 

■ De Frint^iit, II., li. 6; vol. i., p. 106. ' See Hnidekoper, p. Ul. 



^byCOOl^lC 



44 The Descent of Christ into Hell. [October, 

" on leaving the body dwells immediately with the Lord, nnless 
he who by the prerogative of martyrdom shall go to paradise 
instead of to the underworld."" In other places Tertullian places 
paradise on the earth, but not under it. 

Cyprian places paradise in heaven, or identifies it with hea- 
ven. " Let ns embrace," he says, " the day which assigns to 
each his abode; which when we are taken thence (out of the 
world by death], restores us toparadise and the celestial kiag- 
dom."' These quotations are sufficient to shew that the early 
Fathers placed paradise either in heaven or upon earth, or else 
held to a twofold paradise, the one celestial, the other terrestrial; 
but that they carefully avoided the location of it in the under- 
world," No doubt paradise is a part of Hades, taken in the 
wide, etymological sense of invisible world, but not in the spe- 
cial sense of underworld. 

3. The next passage relied upon to prove the existence of an 
intermediate, tempornry, and subterranean locality of sools, is 
the parable of Lazarus (Luke svi. 19 — 31). It is undoubtedly 
the fact that, in the time of our Saviour, the popular notions of 
the Jews with respect to Hades, bore a near resemblance to 
those of the Greeks and Bomans. And the costume of this 
parable is made to conform to the opinions which then pre- 
vailed. But it is difficult to perceive how it furnishes any support 
to the theory which it is adduced to support. 

It is confidently afiSrmed that Lazarus and Dives went to 
different compartments- of Hades. But the parable does not 
say that Lazarus went to Hades ; but was carried by angels into 
Abraham's bosom. This is a figurative espression, denoting 
nearness to Abraham, and a participation iu his felicity. True, 
the early Christian Fathers commonly placed the locality of 
Abraham's bosom in the underworld. And this they were 
probably led to do from the use of the expression in this para- 
ble. But the respective abodes of Dives and Lazarus were £wt 
apart, and separated hy an impassable gulf. "Nor is it likely," 
says Bishop Pearson, " that the angels, "which see the face of 
God, would be sent down from heaven to convey the souls of the 
just into that place, where the face of Qod cannot be seen. 
When God translated Enoch, and Ellas was carried up in a 
chariot into heaven, they seem not to have been conveyed to a 
place where there was no vision of God ; and yet it is most pro- 
bable that Moses was with EHas as well before as upon the 
mount; nor is there any reason to conceive that Abraham 

• De SttuTTect. «amu, c. xliii., p. 411. * Pe Morlaiiiate, p. 166. 

■ See Haidekoper, pp. 105 — 117- Alao Hugenbach, History of Doctrina, 
vol. i., pp. 235, 236. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1 859.] The Deaeeat of Christ into Hell. 45 

should be in tmy worse place or condition than Enoch was, 
having as great a ' testimony that he pleased Ooi ' as Enoch 
had."' But even if we suppose, with some, that the story of 
this parable was a Babbinit^ one, applied, according to our 
Savionr's cnatora, to his own instructive purposes ; and that the 
phrase " Abraham's bosom" was employed by the Rabbins to 
denote the happy side or upper region of the underworld, we are 
not compelled to admit the truth and reality of the representa- 
tion. The object of parables is the inculcation of important 
doctrinal or moral truths in the most pleasing and impressive 
manner. The story may be founded on fact, or be entirely fic- 
titious ] and, provided the doctrines designed to be inculcated 
he true, the terms in which they are inculcated may be adapted 
to the prevailing ideas of those to whom they are addressed, 
whether true or false. It may, indeed, be often difQoult for us 
to separate the drapery from the truths which underlie it, and 
to discover the precise point or points which a parable is de- 
signed to illustrate. The contest, which is our principal guide, 
may fail to give all the information required, and we may be left 
to gather the scope from a careful examination of the parable 
itself. Still, nothing can be more evident than that, in compo- 
sitions of this kind, a literal interpretation of the whole would 
often lead to the greatest absordities and contradictions, and 
that consequently we must discriminate between the truths de- 
edgned to be inculcated and the costume and drapery in which 
they are clothed. The leading truths which appear to be en- 
forced in this parable are these : that the soul is immortal, and 
exists in a separate and conscious state after the dissolution of 
the body ; that the future condition of men will he according to 
their real character, and not according to their outward circum- 
stances in this world ; aud that that condition, whatever it may 
be, whether happy or miserable, will be unchangeable and 
eternal. The parable furnishes no support to the theory of an 
intermediate state and temporary abode of the soul after death, 
which is to be exchanged, at the general resurrection, for an- 
other. It contains not the slightest allusion to anything of the 
kind. 

4. Eph. iv. 9, 10. "Now that be ascended, what is it but 
that he also descended first into the lower parts of the earth ? 
He that descended is the same also that ascended up far above 
all heavens, that he might fill all things." This passage, in 
its application to Christ, is susceptible of three interpretations. 
"The lower parts of the earth," may be used for the earth itself, 

• PearaoQ, &^po*ititm o/lke Creed, ait. v. 

D,g,l,..cbyGOO^^IC 



46 The Descent 0/ Christ irtlo HeU. [October, 

ia opposition to heaven (lea. xUt. %), and would then refer to 
the incarnation of JesuSj including his entire mediatorial Tork 
on earth ; or, it may denote the grave, and then it would refer 
to the burial of Jesus and his descent into the sepulchre (Psalm 
Ixiii. 9 ; Matt. xii. 40] ; or, it may signify the same as Hades, 
and then it would have reference to the descensus ChrisH ad 
it^eros, taking the word Hades either in its more general sense 
of the underworld, including the local habitation both of the 
body and the soul, or in its more restricted sense, of the soul. 
Against the last interpretation, it may be ui^ed that the idea of 
a descent into a subterranean region is entirely foreign to the 
meaning of the passage in the Psalm (Ixviii.) on which the apos- 
tle is commenting ; that the only descent of which the context 
speaks is opposed to the ascending to heaven ; and that this is 
the opposition so often expressed in other places and in other 
forms of expression {e.g., John iii. 13; vi. 38; viii. 14; xvi. 
28].' It is most probable that the genitive r^ 7^;, as Winer 
thinks,' is the genitive of apposition, and exegetical of t^ Ko/rm- 
T€pa fUpij, and that the expression means " the lower parts," 
viz., "the earth" (see 2 Cor. v. 5; Bom. viii. 23; iv. 11, etc. 
Comp. Acts ii. 19, where the heaven above is opposed to the 
earth beneath ; and John viii. 23). If this be the meaning of 
the passage, then it lends no support to the theory we are con- 
troverting. Indeed, so doubtful is its meaning, that some of the 
advocates of the theory place very little reliance upon it." 

5. The last passage which we shall notice, as relied upon to 
prove the existence of an intermediate, subterranean receptacle 
of disembodied souls, is I Pet. iii. 18 — 20. "Being put to death 
in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit ; by which also he went 
and preached unto the spirits in prison, which sometime were 
disobedient, when once the long suffering of God waited in the 
days of Noah." This is confessedly a very obscure and difficult 
passage, and perhaps no interpretation which has been given of 
it is entirely satisfactory. The view generally adopted by Pro- 
testant divines at the present day is, that by " the Spirit " in 
this place is meant — not the human soul of Jesus, but either the 
Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity, or the divine nature 
of Christ, — the " Spirit of holiness," according to which he is 
"the Son of God," in contradistinction to his being "the Son of 
David according to the flesh ;" i.e., as to his human nature. In, 
or as to, this divine Spirit he preached through the instrumen- 
tality of Noah to the antediluvians, none of whom, however, so 

' Bee Hodge's Commentaty on Ephaiaiu. 

• Grammar of N. T., # 48, 2. 

• Bee Browne's Exp. of the TMrtsiiiM Ankla, p. SB. 



^byCOOl^lc 



1859.] The Descent of Christ into Hell. 47 

far as we know, believed, except the small number who were 
saved in the ark. Another interpretation has been propounded 
by Doctors Skinner and Srowue.* According to these critics, 
the phrase, " quickened in the Spirit," signifies spiritually 
qidckened, and refers to the moral power and results of Christ's 
mediatorial work, "the spiritual life and power conferred on the 
Saviour as the reward of his disinterested labours in the cause of 
God-'s honour and man's salvation," which "was illustriously 
manifested in that wonderful quickening of his apostles by the 
communication of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost, and 
in communicating, throngh the instrumentality of their ministry, 
spiritual life and all its concomitant and following blessings, to 
a multitude of souls dead in sin." By " the spirits in prison," 
we are to understand, linful but living men, righteously con- 
demned for their guilt and depravity j the slaves and captives of 
Satan, shackled with the fetters of sin. The coming and preach- 
ing describe, not what our Lord did bodily {a-apKticbK or crto/xa- 
Tucai^), but what he did spiritually {trvevfrnruew) ; not what he 
did personally, but by the instrumentality of others. According 
to the first interpretation, the preaching of Christ refers to a 
period long anterior to his incarnation; according to the latter, 
it refers to a period subsequent to his resurrection and ascension 
into heaven.' It is not necessary to our present inquiry to deter- 
mine which of these is the true or more probable meaning of the 
passage. They are both equally opposed to the notion that 
Christ's mission and preaching were to disembodied spirits in 
Hades, which is the sense in which it is understood by those, 
whether iu ancient or in modern times, who appeal to it in sup- 
port of the Article in the Creed. These differ as to the parti- 
cular compartment in Hades intended by tf>vkaie^, prison. Some 
suppose it to denote the unhappy side— the lower region — the 
special locality and abode of the wicked and impenitent=Tap- 
rapoi, yeevva, d^vtraiy;. Others make it refer to the happy side 
— the upper region — paradise — Abraham's bosom, or the Limbus 
patrum of the Bomanists. The latter view is ingeniously advo- 
cated by Bishop Horsley, and has been adopted by Hobart, 
Bloomfield, H. Browne, and many others, especially in the 
Episcopal church. The learned Bishop maintains that the 
Greek word iftvKaic^, translated ^risow, simply denotes a place of 
safe-keeping, and accordingly proposes to render the clause in 
Peter thus ; " He went and preached to the spirits in safe keep- 
ing." He thinks that the persons in safe keeping, to whom the 



^byGoo^^lc 



48 The Descent of Christ into Hell. [October, 

apostle particularly refers, were the antediluvians, who had been 
disobedient, but who before their death were brought to repent- 
ance and faith. And he supposes that Christ in his disembodied 
state went to this subterranean ^vKaxi], not for the purpose of 
preaching repentance or faith, because the preaching of either 
comee too late to the departed soul, and because these souls had 
believed and repented, or they would not have been in that part 
of the nether regions which the soul of Che Redeemer visited; 
nor with a view to announce any liberation of them from we 
know not what purgatorial pains, of which the Scriptures give 
not the slightest intimation ; but he went to proclaim to them 
the glad tidings that he had actually offered the sacrifice for their 
redemption, and was abont to appear before the Father as their 
intercessor." 

This hypothesis of the Bishop is, we think, liable to serious 
objections, both philological and theological. We wait for the 
production of a single passage &om the New Testament which 
sustains him in the interpretation which he has put upon the 
word ^vhaieq. This word, which properly signifies watch, guard, 
is applied to the act of keeping watch, guarding (Luke ii. 8) ; 
to the persons who are set to watch, a watch, guard (Acts xii. 
10) ; to the place where a watch is kept, a watch-pott, station 
(Rev. xviii. 2) ; and to the place where any one is watched or 
guarded, ward, custody, a prison. The signification of prison, 
as denoting a place of penal confinement, is unquestionably the 
predominant one in the New Testament. It is the meaning in 
at least tbiity-five instances out of forty-seven in which it occiu^ ; 
whereas not a solitary instance does the Bishop appeal to in sup- 
port of the signification which he assigns to the word. A alight 
analogy to the signification advocated by the Bishop, may be 
thought to exist in Luke ii. 8, where the shepheiHis at Beth- 
lehem are said to have been "keeping watch over their flocks by 
night •" but it is one which will not hold on close comparison, 
"safe custody or keeping," which is equivalent to protection, 
implies the presence or probability of danger; but what further 
danger is to be apprehended by those mho have passed their 
present probation? What is the class of enemies trom whom 
the spirits of departed saints or penitents need to be guarded ? 
On what side is it that tbey are threatened with assault ? Of 
what nature are those attempts on their happiness against which 
vigilance has to be exercised ? Saints are kept, and need to be 
kept, by the power of God only unto the salvation (1 Peter i. 5) 
which awiuts them on their release from this world.'' 



...CbyCOOl^lC 



1859.J TSc Descenl qf Christ into Hell. 49 

The reason also assigned by the Bishop for the mission of 
Chriat to the underworld, can scarcely be called anything but 
puerile. It had no important object, and was followed by no 
results. He went, it seems, to annonnce to the antediluvian 
penitents the great fact that he had completed his work of re- 
demption. But why was his preaching or announcement con- 
fined to themP "Were not the souls of the post-diluvian peni- 
tents egnally interested in the joyfol tidings ? Why then are 
they passed by in silence ? 

An angelic choir was deputed to give information to the 
living inhabitants of earth, of Christ's incarnation to enter on 
his work of mercy. Could not the same angelic messengers 
have proclaimed to the antediluvians in paradise the completion 
of bis work ? 

What Scriptural authority is there moreover, for the asser- 
tion that the antediluvians or any considerable portion of them 
repented at the preaching of Noah ? It is indeed possible that 
some of them might have repented at the last moment, when it 
was too late to escape the threatened destruction, but there is 
not a shadow of proof of it. Indeed, the contrary seems to be 
distinctly implied in such passages as Luke xvii. 27 ; Z Peter 



ii. 5 ; Heb. xi. 7. The aasumpti 
tuitouB, and the whole theory f 
the souls of the pious ou leavi 



ion, therefore, ia entirely gra- 
i consequently baseless. That 
ing the body pass immediately 



to heaven, we thiak ia perfectly clear from the declaration of 
Pan! {3 Cor. v. 6 — 8) : " We are always confident, knowing that 
whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord 
{for we walk by faith, not by sight) ; we are confident, I say, 
and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be pre- 
sent (lit. lo be at home) with the Lord," This passage mani- 
festly teaches that, when the soul of the Christian departs from 
the body, it lives with Chriat, dwells where he dwells, and enjoys 
intimate familiar intercourse with him there : it goes to its 
home, its everlasting home. But to be present or at home with 
Christ is certainly to be in heaven, for it is there in his glorified 
human nature, that Chriat now is, and not in the underworld. 
Comp. also 2 Cor. v. 1, 3. 

Philipp. i. 23, 34. " I am in a strait betwixt two, having a 
desire to depart and to be with Christ ; nevertheless, to abide in 
the flesh is more needful for you." It cannot admit of a doubt, 
that to be with Christ in this passage is a phrase of the same 
import as to be present (or at home) loith the Lord, in 1 Cor. v. 
8. Faol then here reiterates the declaration which he had made 
in the Epistle to the Corinthians. From these passages it seems 
impossible to come to any other conclusion than that Paul ex- 

TOL. X. — NO. IIX. E 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



60 The Descent of Chriet into Hell. [October, 

pected immediately after death to enter upon the enjoyment of 
heavenly felicity vith his Savioar (comp. Jonn xvii. 24. Stephen, 
Acts vii. 55, 59). 

That this is the doctrine of the Protestant Episcopal church, 
will clearly appear, we think, from the following passages. The 
doctrines held by that Church are to be learned from the 
Articles of religion, the Liturgy, and the Homilies. In refer- 
ence to the subject under consideration, the Articles are silent. 
Not so the Liturgy and Homilies. There is the negative testi- 
mony arising from the fact that, in no part either of the one or 
the other, is there any allusion to a third or intermediate place 
of abode — a subterranean locality — for the soul after death. 
And it is somewhat remarkable that escept in the Apostles' 
Creed and Art. III. of religion, there is a studied silence in 
regard to Christ's descent into hell. Thus in the Litany the 
following obsecrations are put into the mouths of her members. 
" By thy cross and passion ; by thy precious death and burial ; 
by thy glorious resurrection and ascension." Here the descent 
into hell is passed over in silence. Again, in the consecration 
prayer in the Communion service, the following passage occurs : 
"having in remembrance his blessed passion and precious death, 
his mighty resurrection and glorious ascension." But there is 
positive testimony to the belief of the Episcopal church in the 
immediate transition of the soul after death to heaven. Thus 
in the prayer for a sick child, in the of&ce for the visitation of 
the sick, the worshippers are instructed to pray ; " Or else re- 
ceive him into those heavenly habitations where the souls of 
those who sleep in the Lord Jesus enjoy perpetual rest and 
felicity."' In the prayer for a sick person the following petition 
occurs : " Yet, forasmuch, as in all appearance the time of hia 
dissolution draweth nigh, so fit and prepare him, we beseech 
thee, against the hour of death, that after his departure hence 
in peace, and in thy favor, his soul may be received into thine 
everlasting kingdom." So in the Occasional prayer for a sick 
person : " Or else give him grace so to take thy visitation, that 
after this painful life ended, he may dwell with thee in life ever- 
lasting." In the Burial Service we read : "Almighty God, with 
whom do live the spirits of those who depart hence in the Lord; 
and toilh whom the souls of the faithful, after they are delivered 
from the burden of the flesh, are in joy and felicity." The lan- 
guage of the Homilies is very explicit on the subject. In the 
second part of the Homily against the fear of death the follow- 
ing passage occurs : " Let us be always of good comfort ; for we 

' The same language occnra in the Occasional prayer for a uck cbild. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



im9.} The Descent of Chrint into Hell. 51 

know that so long as ve be in the body, we be as it were far from 
God in a strange country, subject to many perils, walking without 
perfect sight and knowledge of Almighty God, only seeing him 
by faith in the Holy Scriptures. But we have a courage and 
desire, rather to be at home with God and our Saviour Christ, far 
from the body ; where we behold his Godhead, as he is, face to 
face, to our everlasting comfort. These be Paul's words in effect; 
whereby we may perceive, that the life in this world is resembled 
and likened to a pilgrimage in a strange country, far from God ; 
and that death, delivering us from our bodies, doth send us straight 
home into our own country, and maketh us to dwell presently with 
God for ever, in everlasting rest and quietness," 

Again, in the third part of the Homily 'on prayer, there 
occur the following passages : " The scripture doth acknowledge 
but two places after this life; the one proper to the elect and 
blessed of God, the other to the reprobate and damned souls, 
aa may be well gathered by the parable of Lazarus and the rich 
man," etc. — " Where is then the third place, which they (the 
Bomanists) call purgatory ? Augustine doth only acknowledge 
two places qfter this life, heaven and hell. As for the third place, 
he doth plainly deny that there is any such to be found iu all 
scripture,'^ — "As the scripture teacheth ub, let us think that 
the soul of man passing out of the body goeth straightways either 
to heaven or else to hell; whereof the one needetb no prayer, 
and the other ia without redemption."-'" 

Such being clearly the doctrine of the Protestant Episcopal 
church in regard to the future state, it only remains to recon- 
cile this with the Article of Christ's descent into hell. We 
cannot suppose that she designs to teach one doctrine in her 
Litui^ and Homilies and another in her creed and Articles of 
religion. The two can be harmonized only by putting a liberal 
construction on the creeds. And this has been done by the 
American church herself, in the Rubric prefixed to the Creed, 
in which she substitutes the words ; " He went into the place of 
departed spirits," as of equivalent import. The terms in which 
this substitute is couched are quite general and indefinite. By 
employing the verb went in the place of descended, she virtually 
repudiates the hypothesis of a subterranean cavity as the recep- 
tacle of disembodied souh. And the phrase "place of departed 

/ In the Articles of relieion, probably drami up by Usher, and agreed apon 
by the ArohbiBhops and Bishopa and the rest of the clergy of Ireland, i.e. 
1610, we find the rollawing declaration on this Bobject: ^ 101, "After this life 
is ended the goaleof God's children will he presently received into heaven, there 
to enjoy anBpeakable comforts ; the sonls oi the wicked are cast Into hell, there 
to endnre endlesB ti 



.byCOOl^lC 



52 The Detcent of Christ into Hell. [October, 

spirits," determinet nothing as to an intermediate locality, 
separate and distinct from both heaven and hell. It merely 
affirms that the soul of Jeaua at his death went to its appropriate 
place in the invisible, spiritual world. Thus understood, the 
dogma of Christ's descent into hell is freed from all difficulty 
and mystery, and made plain to the comprehension of every 
mind, as well as consonant with the general tenor of Scripture. 
The results to which we are brought by the preceding remarks 

1. That the soul of man does not die or sleep with the body, 
bat immediately after the dissolution of the latter, passes into 
a separate disembodied, conscious state, and into its appropriate 
place (so far as spirits may be supposed to occupy place], either 
of enjoyment or of suffering,— its heaven or its hell, — according 
to the moral character which it may posaeas. 

2. That there is no third intermediate place of spiritual 
existence ; no subterranean habitation of disembodied souls, 
either of probation or of purgation j no imaginary paradise in 
the underworld where the souls of the pious are preserved in 
safe keeping; no limbus patrum, no limbus infantum, no 
purgatory. 

3. That our Saviour, according to the Creed, was perfect 
man as well as perfect God, having a human soul no less than 
a human body. 

4. That when crucified he died in reality and not merely in 
appearance (syncope), since there took place an actual separa- 
tion of his soul and body. 

5. That the idle and unprofitable question as to the object 
of Christ's descent into Hades is precluded ; a question which 
greatly perplexed the fathera, the schoolmen, and the Reformers, 
and led to the invention of many absurd and unscriptural 
theories. 



by Google 



{ 53 



BUWSEN'S EGYPTIAN HISTOET/ 

Thk work before us deserves careful attention, both ironi the 
extraordinary conclusions at which it arrives, and the extreme 
openness with which it puts forth the author's authorities, and 
his method of deduction. 

In making a statement of his conclusions, siftiag them by 
his own authorities, and shewing from the same authorities 
how exactly Egyptian tradition agrees with Scripture history, 
we shall be doing nothing more than the Chevalier invites. 

Following the author's last English volumes rather than his 
earlier ones as most conveying his meaning, it appears that hav- 
ing fixed the commencement of the reign of Menopthes of the 
nineteenth dynasty by the era of the canicular cycle, he works 
downwards and upwards, apportioning the historical period of 
Egypt into three empires, which he calls the old, the middle, 
the new, successively commencing in the years 3643 b.c, 2668 
B.C., and 1626 B.c.'(ii. 579). But the year 8643 b.c. is by no 
means the earliest to which his story of Egypt reaches. In the 
first volume (p. 356), we have a claim for Egyptian history as 
for all other history, of a period antecedent to that point in 
which history is generally supposed to begin, derived ^m the 
successive strata of development which its language, writing, 
and mythology exhibit. The exact length of this period is of 
course nowhere put forth. But in the preface to the third volume, 
he states that man existed on the earth about 20,000 years b.o., 
that the flood took place about 10,000 b.c, extending to Asia 
only, and that Egypt was inhabited before the flood. 

Our author marks his Old Empire under three divisions; — 
the first, &om Menes to Phiops, exhibiting its culminating point, 
during which the vastest and the greatest number of the pyra- 
mids were erected ; the second, from Phiops to Amenhema I,, 
exhibits its decline, very few monuments being traceable to this 
period ; the third, from Amenhema I. to Amoutharthios, being 
a period of restoration, marked by records of conquests, and by 
the erection of the labyrinth, the formation of canals, the cul- 
tivation of the faioum, and a great increase of civilization. 
During the first of these divisions of the old empire, with the 
exception of one local dynasty, we learn that all Egypt was 

* 1. jEgypltn'l SteUe in der Weltgeichichle — Oackichiiiche Untersutkiaig in 
J^f BUdem. Von Christian Carl Joaiaa Bunsen. Vola. i.^v. Hamburg 
andGotha: 1844—1857. 

2. Egypl't Place tn UmDersiU Hittorv — An Historical Inveitigation in jitv 
BooJcg, Bt Christiaii C. J. Bunsen. lYantilated from the Qerman bj Charles 
CottereU. Vola. i.— iii. London : 1848—1859. 



.byCOOl^lc 



54 BujiBer^g Egyptian History. [October, 

under the dotniaiou of a succession of central monarchs, ruling 
from This and Memphis ; that during the second or weak period, 
fire cotemporarj' dynasties divided the dominion ; that under the 
third division, the vhole of Egypt returned to the rule of one 
dynasty, of Theban extraction. 

Passing to the middle empire. Chevalier Bunsen devotea its 
vhole period, after a few intatidnctory years, to the rule of the 
Hycaos or shepherd kings, an Arab race who made a fortified 
camp in the Delta, conquered Memphis, and made several (ii. 
423) tributary princes, who, according to Egyptian tradition, 
perpetrated many acts of cruelty, and persecuted the religion of 
the country ; but who, according to Bunsen, " soon became mol- 
lified and gentle, through the charm of good order and social 
enjoyments they would have found around them." 

Aa cotemporary with these Hycsos we have, by our author, 
placed, first a Tbeban, then a Xoite, and then another Theban 
dynasty. 

The new empire, centering during; its first three dynasties at 
Thebes, but afterwards ruling from cities in the Delta, produced 
the greatest memorials of progress and strength. It commenced 
with Amos and culminated under Thothmes III., who, accord- 
ing to our author, completed the war against the Hycsos, and 
finally expelled them. After this king, Bunaen informs us in 
his last volume (though his second seemed to give quite a difier- 
eut picture), other princes succeeded in unbroken prosperity, 
until the reign of the Menophes already mentioned; on him 
Bunsen places the invasion of the leprous Palestinians, who 
conquered the whole land, and held it during thirteen years, but 
who were then finally espelled. The twentieth dynasty, Bunsen 
informs us, after a prosperous commencement, became tributary 
to Assyria, the dynasty following is noticed as one of priests, 
and that succeeding it n«i . connected with Shishak's plunder of 
the temple at Jerusalem ; after this event the Chevalier finds 
little in Egyptian history worthy of his remarks. 

But our chief enquiry will be, How does this great German, 
this friend of Lepsius, this stay of EvangeK^ Christianity in 
the fatherland, make this agree with Bible histoid? The answer 
is simple ; in no way ; he makes the Bible story ag'ree with it. 

The Chevalier adopts as a principle, in the very ijommence- 
ment of his work (i. 161-2), that chronology is not a flaatter of 
revelation, but he "assumes" that "the centre of revelation is 
of an historical character," and determines "to admit V esta- 
blished the truth of all facts in the civil history of thel Jews, 
however remotely they may be connected with revealed relffiious 
truths, until the contrary has been demonstrated." ^ 



D,g,l,.™b,.COOl^[l- 



1859.] Btttisen's Egyptian History. 65 

Having thus cleared the way with aa apparent reverence for 
Scriptnrej he lays first before ub, as we have already seen, as 
demonstrated, that man was created about 20,000 years b.c, 
that after 10,000 years a deluge destroyed the inhabitants of 
central Asia; that the inhabitants of Egypt were not affected, 
and were therefore not originally of Noah's seed. 

These are, however, but little matters incidentally treated 
of; whole chapters are carefully devoted to the more important 
matter of rectifying the Bible history itself. 

We are taught that, after the flood, Noah's family gradually 
advanced step by step over the renewed earth towards the west, 
leaving in each haltiug-place a new colony ; that as part of that 
law of progress, Terah intended to proceed into the land of 
Canaan, and took with him Abram and Lot ; that before he 
arrived there he died on the road at Haran ; Abram aud Lot, 
however, going on in the intended path. Isaac, Bunsen asserts, 
was bom before Abram arrived in the land, while his father was 
yet only fifty years old. The entry into the land took place 
in Abram's aeventy-fifth year, and that patriarch died when he 
was a hundred years old; before that event, Isaac being six- 
teen years of age, married Bebecca; Jacob being thus born 
in the thirty-sistb year of Isaac, waa only nineteen years of age 
when be fled from his brother, his blind and aged father Isaac 
being only fifty-four; Isaac's whole life he cuts off at eighty 
years, brings Jacob into Egypt when he was only seventy, cuts 
off his life at ninety-eight years, and that of Joseph at seventy- 
eight. Having thus multiplied the times before Abram by ten, 
and divided those of the three patriarchs by two, and brought 
Israel into Egypt, Bunsen, who in his first volume told us that 
only half of the seventy who came into Egypt were men, now 
treats the whole number as genuine, but adds, that with their 
dependents, they were nearly 2000. The year of their entry 
is fixed at 2754 B.C., and that of the Esodus at 1320 b.c, 
leaving a period of 1434 years for their sojourning there. For 
205 years of this long period they were, it seems, in great 
prosperity, "and mainly, if not exclusively, agriculturists" {iii. 
358). Then another shepherd tribe, far less civilized than they, 
overran all Egypt, making the land of Goshen their bead- 
quarters, and continuing 929 years ; during this time, seeing 
tiiat they would lose most of their land, Bunsen puts the Israel- 
ites down as "itinerant traders (? pedlars)" throughout the 
whole land of Egypt, and considering that the Hycsos were 
people of a kindred race, though inferior to tbem in civilization, 
he says, they " doubtless made themselves very useful by their 
knowledge of the countiy and its resources" (iii. 358); eigbty- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



56 Buruen'i Egyptian Hitlory. [October, 

five years follow for the rise of the eighteenth dynasty, and then 
we are told that Thothmes III., having completed the expulsion 
of the Hycsos, was able to enslave them, and Israel remained 
bondslaves for 215 years. 

The Exodus, we are informed, was " an episode in the civil 
and religious war by which Egypt was distracted for years, and 
from which it never recovered." The Israelites were driven to 
desperation under Meneptbath, and Moses and Aaron made 
preparation for revolt, by having intercourse with the chief of 
Midian (iii. 199), by organizing an nnivereal conspiracy, and 
by secretly arming the people, and this so successfully, that 
for a period of some two years they were able to give a passive 
if not active resistance to Pharaoh (iii. 203 and 261) . Between 
the visits of Moses to Sinai, and bis interriews with the Mi- 
dianitisb tribes necessary for his great conspiracy, " serious 
plagues occur, repeated entreaties are made, and proofs are 
evinced of the power of the Spirit which was in Moses " (iii. 
361); then the Palestinian races (iii. 267), whom Moses had 
called in, invaded and devastated Egypt, holding it for a period 
of thirteen years, and under cover of their presence the Israel- 
ites departed, "after a protracted and at length not bloodless 
struggle " (iii. 327), moving along the banks of the canal of 
Barneses, which falls into the extreme head of the Bed Sea. 
Meuopthes having been driven into Ethiopia by the Palestinians, 
Moses' friends, and remaining there for thirteen years, while 
they destroyed the animal worship of Egypt, was unable to 
collect a second army to follow the Israelites. Turning next to 
the story of the Israelites in the wilderness, the Chevalier ad- 
mires their republican spirit at Mount Sinai, and the valour with 
which they fought against Amalek, reminds us that the deserts 
in those days were far more fertile than now, and traces them in 
the second year to Kadesh Bamea; there he tells us that " won- 
derful man Moses " was very nearly failing in his attempt to 
lead his race into a freer land, where they might enjoy a spiritual 
religion, by the strong desire of Israel to return to Egypt, on 
whose border they were standing, and take a " share in the rich 
booty" which was being gathered by " their kindred tribes, and 
with them take signal vengeance on the dark children of Ham, 
instead of struggling with daily privations on the confines of an 
inhospitable land, and without having any end or object in view" 
(iii. 268), For to suppose that they desired to return to bond- 
age is, says Bunsen, " impossible " and " a fable." Seeing, then, 
this danger, Moses resolved to negotiate no longer with the 
Edomites, but went to the south and compassed their land, and 
entered at once, in the third year from the Exodus, into the land of 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Buruen't Egyptian IRatory. 57 

Canaan, into the part that ia beyond Jordan, passing northward 
therein to the spot opposite Jericho, and gradually expelling its 
inhabitants. After a period of possession of this land for twenty 
years, Moses died, and Joshua assumed the leaderships he 
^so continued in this same land of Bashan for eighteen years, 
before he conducted Israel over Jordan ; but, during this time, 
Baamea III., having restored Egypt to its pristine strength, had 
been campaigning in Palestine, aud beating down its inhabitants; 
bis last campaign was in the year 1279 b.c, therefore in 1273, 
all things being prepared, Israel passed the Jordan, &nd after 
conquering the towns mentioned in the Book of Joshua, re< 
mained as the recxjgnized dominant power, according to "a 
stipulated agreement " made at Hebron with the Canoanites {iii. 
272), until 1346 s.c. (Joshua having survived the conquest about 
seven years) ; then they were made " tributary to a Mesopota- 
mian satrap," and continued in this state of subjection and 
dependency for a hundred and seventy-five years, until the time 
of Saul J during this period tbey enjoyed, according to our 
author, "a respite for thirty years at the most, and this at dis- 
tant intervals of short duration ;" occasionally heroes sprang up 
for this end, but after every delivery the invading hordes appear 
again, and all is unchanged, except the name of those to whom 
they paid tribute, "the only possible explanation" being "the 
paralyzing power of Assyria," which, Bunsen asserts, at that time 
ruled over Syria and even Egypt itself. We are informed that 
one hundred and seventy-five years is to be counted to the 
Judges, being estimated only by the troubles, and not by in- 
cluding the rests ; to these he gives an average of seven years, 
refusing the nnmber forty in every case, his object being to 
shorten the period ; and he not only, also with the same object, 
takes advantage of the Jordan for contemporaneous Judges, 
but into the forty years of the Philistines compresses the forty 
years of Eli, the twenty years of Samson, and the whole judg- 
ship of Samuel, stated by him at twenty years (iii. 288) . After 
spending some labour upon Hiram king of Tyre, we are brought 
to the well-known monument of Shishak's plunder of Jerusalem, 
and thenceforward neither Israelite nor Egyptian history gives 
him much interest; a transition being made here into Biblical 
chronology, which on the whole the Chevalier henceforward 
approves, although as usual he finds that in some smaller points 
he most correct it. 

To meet such an outline of Israelite history by internal 
comparison of its details with those given in Holy Scripture, 
would be both needless and useless. If Bunsen's story is true, 
whoever compiled the historical Scriptures was not inspired for 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



58 Bunsen't Egyptian Hialory. [October, 

that purpoae, and wrote, as the Chevalier expresses it, " under 
the influeDce of purely childish delusions, persistence in which 
can only be productive of doubt and unbelief" (iii. ^1] ; and 
we must in future look upon sacred history, not as the expres- 
sion of the divine Word, who is the truth, as well as the way 
and the life, bnt as "a strictly popular epic" (iii. 300), with 
only "an historic basis'' handed down to us by ignorant or 
designing persons, with such "an illegitimate combination of 
historical and unhistorical data aa at once spoils and destroys 
both history and poetry," ». e., both truth and beauty (iii. 299). 
Considering, however, Bunsen's position, and the recklessness 
with which infidelity in the present day seizes hold on every 
semblance of argument against inspiration, it is very necessary 
that his arguments and reasoning should be laid bare. 

His assertion as to the length of time since the first settle- 
ment of Egypt, has been already wholly disposed of, and is, in- 
deed, only added by him as a supplementary proof of his theory 
of the gradual growth of language. Yet it is a remarkable ex- 
ample of what he considers valid proof. He reasons thus : a 
boring has lately been made at the base of a statue erected 1350 
years b.c, and at the lowest depth of the Nile deposit (? Nile 
oose), upon the sand supporting it, have been found fragments 
of pottery and burnt brick. Now as the accumulation to the 
base of the statue in 3314 years is nine feet four inches, it will 
have required a period of 13,500 years for the accumulation to 
reach the whole depth of twenty-nine feet; and a boring reach- 
ing in another place to fragments at a depth of fifty-nine feet 
would require 20,000. Now surely, as a mechanical fact, this 
calculation is worthless; a colossal statue can never have been 
erected at the level of the sediment of the Nile in its own days, 
where all the city could look down on it; rather we should have 
expected the very contrary : equally is the calculation worthless 
in the view of a geologist; the fragments are found below the 
alluvium upon the sand ; surely it cannot be that the Nile was 
colonized before any deposit was made by its waters; if not, 
then the fragments must have settled to the foot of the alluvium, 
by the movements of the inundation, and if this be at all true, all 
data derived from their present position is useless; and, yet ^ain, 
burnt brick savours rather of ILoman than earlier times." 

Bnt we must look at the true foundation of Bunsen's history. 
He asserts, first, that the lists of kings contained in Mauetho 
and Eratosthenes, as interpreted by the monuments, contain the 
only reliable sources of chronology. He next asserts that a 
comparison of the two authors proves that the dynasties given 
' See Journal qf Saered Lilfratvre, July, 1859, p. 3B6. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Bunsen's Egyptian History. 59 

in Masetho are not all succeaaive; and again he determines 
rather to be led in details by Eratosthenes than Manetho. Thus 
far we think him rights but in proceeding further the Chevalier 
is wholly at fault. It is evident that Eratosthenes' researches 
have cut short the earlier periods given by Manetho, but Eratos- 
thenes' list haa come to us in a mutilated state. After inter- 
preting Egypt and Manetho to ua for 1076 years, his list sud- 
denly stops, and Manetho alone remains to be followed; the 
question immediately arises, how far off is this close &om the 
final termination of Egyptian history. Now the first thought 
of a logical mind would certainly be to compare the sums total 
of the earlier dynasties of Manetho, with the list of Eratos- 
thenes ia our possession, to leant whether any agreement exists 
which might be a rule for the future; then having made such 
discovery its endeavour would be to complete the general outline 
of Egyptian chronology from Manetho in accordance with such 
rule; and this being effected, its duty would be to examine the 
production with a very strict criticiam. Not so however Snnsen ; 
he very quickly concludes that there is no chronological con- 
nexion between the two authorities ; that the sums attached to 
Manetho's dynasties have no chronological accuracy, but are 
in reality only intended as the products of the length of the 
several reigns in the several dynasties, whether successive or 
eotemporary ; and having thus thrown aside any hope of being 
guided in the future from experience in the past, and being left 
without a pilot among the mazes of Manetho's dynasties, his 
great desire is to find some other statement of Manetho as to 
the length of the entire period, which may help him over the 
difficulty. This desire ia of course satisfied ; he finds in Syn- 
cellus a passage giving a sum to the thirty dynasties, and 
instantly adopts it, placing the 1076 years of Eratosthenes at 
its commencement, and at its close, the kings immediately pre- 
ceding and those following the canicular era, and creating a 
middle empire to fill up the gap left in its centre ; which he him- 
self confesses "seems to be assuming as historical fifty and odd 
kings, upon the mere entry of lists which do not give us one 
single name, one single date of reign" (ii. 416). The number 
he finds in Syncellus is 3555, but in what, either in nature or 
value, it differs from the sums total appended to the lists by 
Afiicanus or Eusebius as recorded by the same author, except in 
amount, is difficult to conceive. There are, indeed, some very 
sufficient reasons for believing that it is only such a total as 
Buneen had already rejected, altered and corrected by Symma- 
chns' own calculations after the manner of the author before 
us; indeed, in his last volume (iii.) our author himself shews 
such a doubt of its value, that he devotes a section to the proof 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



60 Bunten's Egyptian Hutory. [Octolwr, 

of its having really come fVom Maaetho, rather than any other 
Boorce, which he does br labouring in a circle at his own 
chum, shewing that the dyuasties of Manetho, as altered and 
arranged by him, most probably fit in with that number 
(iii. 98). . _ 

In all this, as we said before, we do not agree with Bunsen, 
and we wonder at his fatuity. Africanus is his chosen channel 
to Manetho's dynasties. Has he never added up the first Thioite 
and all the pre-eighteenth Theban dynasties by their despised 
anms from the lists of Africanus, i. e., i., xi., xii., xiii., ivii.r If 
not, he should do so at once, for they exactly agree in their total 
with the 1076 years of Eratostheaes ; then let him turn to the 
Memphite dynasties, and similarly add up all their sums, i. e., 
i., iii., iv., vi., vii., viii,, only substituting in the third, the sum 
of Eusebius for that of Africanus,' and the same period of 1076 
vill within two meet him a second time. 

Surely it is impossible to despise the sums of the dynasties 
after such a coincidence between Memphis and Thebes, and so 
exact a corroboration of their genuineness from Eratosthenes, 
who saw the originals in the temples. But if the Chevalier still 
considers their value doubtful, he may test them in another way. 
He has himself fixed the commencement of the canicular cyle 
twenty-five years before the close of the nineteenth dynasty ; he 
may say, " ^i the sums represent periods, they should exactly fit 
in from this date until they meet the Persian chronology ;" let 
him then remember that they have been reduced, or selected, by 
the Greek copyists in order to correspond with Grecian dates of 
the Trojan war, and of the commencement of the Olympiads; 
and let him, therefore, where there is a choice, take the largest 
sum of each dynasty preserved to us, and he will find, by addi- 
tion, this whole period idso accurately spauned. 

Bunsen surely ought to have aUowed that Eratosthenes is 
not only of value as selecting certain kings in traditionary order 
from the original records, but also as setting forth clearly the 
existence of a certain definite period of 1076 years in the chro- 
nological arrangements of the priesthood, both at Thebes and 
Memphis, into which the succession of their dynasties had been 
accurately fitted. If he had not, by a singular fatuity, passed 
over this great teaching of Eratosthenes, his argument must 
have run in the following course. Eratosthenes has shewn, that 
during the period now called the old empire, the priests, both 
of Thebes and Memphis, in recording the dynastic lists of their 
own cities, attached to them sums which in succession were 

* The came of this kukU error of Afrioanna ii eaiilv traced in the length 
of the r«ign of Achei, which, from two contemporoij ayiiasU«B, should have 
bten twenty-eight or thirtj imtead of forty-two. 



D5,l,r..cb,.COOl^lC 



1859.] Buntei^s Egyptian History, 61 

intended to accurately reach 1076 years; thns not only putting 
forward a claim to separate jurisdiction in both these cities 
during the whole of this period, but inviting us to believe that 
by adding the sums of succeeding dynasties of these cities to 
this number, we may arrive at the fall traditionary length of 
the whole monarchy. 

Now it appears that there are no more Memphite dynasties 
in the Thirty, but there are Theban; therefore, Memphite 
claims cease at this juncture; we enter ou a new phase, Mem- 
phis being professedly subject, and we must trust to Thebes alone. 
Add then the Theban eighteenth and nineteenth sums, dropping 
out the years of Amosis" (sixty-two) already counted, who intro- 
duces the eighteenth dynasty, but without any due length appor- 
tioned to his reign, and twenty-five years of Menophres and Seti 
II., which we have already mentioned as passing over the new 
canicular era; and we ought to find the traditionary length of 
the whole period before this era. The addition produces 1461 
years, or an exact canicular cycle. 

With this remarkable result to bo simple and evident a mode 
of treating the subject before us, it is impossible to doubt that 
we have before us the traditionary chronology of Egypt. Also 
every Theban and every Memphite dynasty being accurately 
expended, we have neither kings nor time for any intervening 
period between an old and new empire. 

While, however, his own authorities given in his work have 
thus, by their mutual enlightenment, overthrown Bunsen's system 
of chronology, by exactly agreeing as to the traditionary chro- 
nology of Egypt as given by the priests; their internal disagree- 
ments as palpably prove that priestly chronology to be altogether 
unreal, and to be vastly extended. We have no need to do 
more than compare Eratosthenes with the Theban lists of 
Manetho on one side, and those of Memphis on the other, to 
be at once convinced of this; they both commence with the 
first Thinite. Eratosthenes declares that this dynasty is too long 
by at least a century. Thebes follows with the eleventh, twelfth, 

' By an examinstion of the lists of EratoBtbeDee, it will be found that bis 
last king, with Bixty-two jeais, is named AMOYSAPaiOS. Bansen caimot with 
his theory understand this name, but renders it Amnn Timans, to soit a Greek 
tradition of the entry cf the Hycksoa. The name ia donhtless AMOS with a 
title, or with a partner. Bunsen haa pointed out many similar Qamea in this list; 
in the eigbtesnth dynasty, Africanas gives no sufficient period for the length of 
this kin^s reign, though he records his name first ; in Manetbo's seventeenth, or 
last pra-eighteenth dyiiasty. It ia expreaaly stated that the kings were partly 
Shepherd and partly Theban ; Lepsius also, as Bnnaen informs as, consideia 
Amosis, though in the eighteenth dynasty, not rightly of it ; and there are 
several independent reasons for believing that oar copy of EratostheneB' list of 
the old empire, from Menes to Amosis, would include both sovereigns. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



63 Bunten'8 Egyptian History. [October, 

thirteenth, and seventeenth. Eratosthenes points out that the 
eleventh and tvrelfth really reach within three kings of the new 
empire, hence the thirteenth and seventeenth, if both genuine, 
must by their numbering have been cotemporary wiQi these 
eleven and twelve, only surviving their more powerful rivals by 
a few years : or similarly turning to Memphis, we find Era- 
tosthenes at least cutting off a century from their kings, even 
though some are supposed to be cotemporary with those of 
Thebes. We see, that is, that in the period of the old empire 
alone, Eratosthenes convicts the priests of Thebes and Memphis 
severally of greatly extending their history, in order to make 
the foundation of Egypt reach back to the commencement of 
the canicular cycle. Shall we then say that Eratosthenes him- 
self, who commences at the same date, is more to he trusted? 
Surely not'. Having shewn that his two sources of information 
are wrong, and wrong even where they agree, surely in filling 
up exactly to the same length he must be also wrong. We 
might indeed, from the monumental evidence connected with 
the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties, shew independently 
that this traditional period is considerably extended, but we 
need scarcely do this ; if the reasons already advanced are not 
sufficient, surely it must be allowed h priori that a first canicular 
cycle could not have originated in the reign of Menes, and 
especially when we find that the canicular era does not bear hia 
name, but that of the later king Menophres, in whose reign the 
peculiar conjunction again occurred. Bunsen would himself 
join in avoiding the possibility of such an arrangement. Are 
we then after all these investigations as hopelessly at sea as 
before ? Very far from it ; our enquiries have reduced the un- 
certain subject of Egyptian history to so very small a compass, 
that a very little more consideration of the materials before us 
must establish their true relationship and connexion. Towards 
this end Bunsen has undesignedly done much, and a short 
criticism upon those parts of his work which still remain for 
use, will completely restore the Egyptian story to its true 
position. 

We have two periods on which to remark, the new empire 
uutil Menophres, and the old. 

In the first of these, the genealogies of onr author and most 
of his strictures appear to be worthy of high praise — indeed, he 
has almost wholly followed Lepsins ; but to the freedom with 
which he has altered the length of each reign no such praise 
can be given. We have received the list of the eighteenth 
dynasty through five separate channels, and with a very exact 
agreement. Two difficulties, however, met Bunsen ; the omis- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Buruen'f Egyptian History. 63 

sion in Africanua, as we have alread; remarked, of any sufE- 
cient length of years to Araosia, thirteen years OBly being 
given to his title ; and the entire neglect of Amenhept II. in 
every copy ; but surely this method of altering every length of 
reign in the dynasty to meet this seeming fault is utterly without 
excuse or foundation. It ia indeed as he says, very true that 
certain queens on the list bore the royal title during the earlier 
part of the dynasty, while other unnamed kings really ruled, 
and that during part of the time Thothmes III, bore a title 
of a compound kind; but this is no reason why the period in 
which this happens should be spread out from 120 or 124 to 159 
years. So again in the nineteenth dynasty, the origin and gene- 
alogy are undoubtedly to be received as Bunsen records them ; 
but why should he agdn change the length of the reigns? It 
may appear to him that there is no chronology, and that there- 
fore one must be made j but acknowledging, as he does, that 
while Horus is the last king of the eighteenth dynasty, the 
nineteenth branched off from his father Amenhept III. through 
a female whose claim was co-ordinate with that of Horus, it is 
surely a point not to be despised, but rather of extreme value, 
that all the succession from Amenhept III. (as given in Joae- 
phus], except this king Horus, to the end of Baamses I., exactly 
extends over the length of the reign given to the first king of 
the nineteenth dynasty in Africanus. Does not this supply a 
chronological link? True it is, the claim to these fiity-one 
years and six months belongs to Baamses I., the first male of 
the dynasty, who only ruled one year at their close, and the 
name added to them in the nineteenth dynasty is Sethos ; but 
it moat also be remembered that Joaephus, after recording this 
list, has added, that Sethos is also called Baamses. To these 
fifty-one and a half years follow the reign of Seti, Menepthath, 
or Sethos I. There is no doubt of bis position, and Africanus 
here inserts him as a Menepthath ; but why should bis number 
be altered to twelve years from nineteen and a half or twenty ? 
Next follows Baamses II. with sixty-seven or sixty-eight years, 
and then Menophres and the well-known date 1326 b.c. Having 
thus claimed that the list be left untouched, and only interpreted 
by the monuments, we must next protest wholly against the 
story of the last incursion of the Palestinian tribes being placed 
npon the reign of Menophres. Manetho's words required no 
such arrangement; the incursion must have happened in the 
thirty-first or last year given of Amenopbis III., and the thirteen 
years' flight into Ethiopia before them, must he represented by 
the thirteen years in which, as Bnnsen himself ahewa, he appears 
under the name of Cbebron. The fact of the oldest Apis found 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



64 Bunten'a Egyptian Hittory, [October, 

in the Serapiuni being of Amenhept III. is a stroDg corrobora- 
tion of this ; because the Falestinians are especially noted as 
having destroyed the sacred aaimalB, and Amenhept as having 
carried those living into Ethiopia; the restoration of religion 
would be itself a cause for new Apis vaults and renewed splen- 
dour, even if all the old Apis mummies were destroyed. 

Not that we would connect the actual Exode with this event. 
Manetho's other story of Miaphragmuthosis having shut up 
340,000 shepherd families at Abaris, which Bunsen renders the 
Hebrew city (?), and of Thothraosis, his son (i. 647), having ar- 
ranged with them for their departure, together with his remark, 
that having left Egypt they founded Jerusalem, so accm*ately 
agrees with the Israelite story in numbers and general outline, 
that there ought to be no doubt of its application ; and espe- 
cially when we find the junction of the two reigns, exactly forty 
years before this incursion, and in the year 1505 b.c, which ia 
the true Biblical year of the Exode, when the Hebrew numbers 
are used without alteration. The invading of the Palestinians 
coinciding with the year of Joshua's entry into, and conquest 
of, Canaan, may be, however, fairly connected with the terror 
and distress then existing in that country. They were perhaps 
joined, or even partially invited, by that mixed multitude, of 
whom we shall have again to speak, who accompanied Israel as 
far as Sinai, and returned to Egypt, as far as we can gather, 
after the plague at Kadesh-Barnea. Nor can the fact that 
during some part of his reign, Thothmosis IV. mined in the 
copper-land of Sinai, affect the fact of the wandering of Israel ; 
rather the contrary ; before the Exodus the Amalekites had ruled 
that country with signal strength ; the Israelites, howcTer, in the 
first year of their wanderings, were the means whereby they 
were very much weakened, and in Thothmes' second year Israel 
left the neighbourhood of Sinai for remote stations, and per- 
manently. We claim that either the sole rule of Amenophis 
II. was so short and so calamitous, that it was not recorded in 
the lists, he being the king who ruled for the very short period 
of Moses' presence in Egypt during the plagues; or else that 
he was wholly titular and secondary. We should doubt whether 
the inscription of the obelisk proves more than the length of 
time which it was in the workmen's hands, and that it was not 
completed until after the death of Thothmes III. 

With this story of the Exodus also agrees the accession of 
Amenhept I., whose royal sister carried the title of Fharoah's 
daughter. If indeed Amosis' long struggle to establish this 
dynasty was complete thirteen years before, these thirteen years 
would not be too long a period before the birth of Moses to 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Bunaen's Egyptian History. 65 

suit the Biblical expreasiou of the rise of the new king who 
knew not Joseph ; yet it seems likely that the slavery of Israel 
would be the laat act of the full eatablishment of the dynasty, 
and would rather date from the year 1584 or 1587 (as we receive 
the detail of Joaephus or the round numbers of AJricanus), 
than earlier. 

Thus far the restoration then is easy and satisfactory. The 
restoration of the old empire by the use of Bonsen's labour is 
nearly as easy, and will be as satisfactory. The monuments, 
indeed, give less assistance, but the sums of the lists give more. 

To Bunsen's fundamental error in servilely copying Eratos- 
thenes we have already alluded, but we acknowledge with one 
exception the general outline of the history he has given, and 
with great gratitude much of its laborious detail j the exact 
chronological arrangement will follow ^m the mere contrast of 
corresponding names in the cotemporary dynasties immediately 
that exception is removed. 

The exception is of course the position of the Shepherds. 
Bunsen had interposed them between the fall of the twelfth 
__ and the eighteenth dynasty ; we now know that the chief of the 
three Shepherd dynasties at least, must be thrown back so as to 
be cotemporary with part of the old empire itself. Bunsen's 
general outline of the native kings will only allow one possible 
place, the time of the sixth Memphite, a period already marked 
as one of decline. 

This position being allowed (even for argument sake), the whole 
story of the old empire, by the self-evident comparison of the 
cotemporary dynastic names, quietly and perfectly unfolds itself. 

Look shortly at the fitness of some of these comparisons, 
aud take first the name of Phiopa. Bunsen tells us that Phiops 
of the sixth dynasty and Apappus of Eratosthenes are one 
person, and that his Egyptian name from the monuments was 
A. PEPI. (ii. 201.) He also tells us that this same Egyptian 
name was the title given to the Hycaos king by Ra-SkenneQ- 
Atnaken (iii. 356) in an Egyptian romance lately translated. 
Now, among the names of the shepherd kings cotemporary with 
the sixth dynasty, is Apophis; can we doubt that Apaphus and 
Apophis are the same name? And surely a titular, not a per- 
sonal name ; for on a comparison of tbe different lists of this 
fifteenth dynasty this name will be found devoted to every prince 
in turn except tbe first ; and note that both Abram aud Isaac call 
all the sultans of the same race then sojourning to the south of 
Hebron, Abi-Melech. The first consequence of this aynonyme 
is that we have Eratosthenes himself witnessing to this general 
order of the succession, Suphi, Hycsos, Sesorteesen. The second 

VOL. X. NO. XIX. p 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



66 Bunien'a Egyptian Hittory. [October, 

is, that Nitocria at once reBumes her trae pOBition, a Shepherd 
princess of Chaldeean extractioD, as Herodotus himself hinta. 
Take next one other comparison flowing also in part out of 
this. The first king of the sixth Memphite dynasty already 
before us, as containing this Shepherd title, is Aktboes, a man 
who also is found introducing the ninth Heracleopolitan dy- 
nasty; of him the lists assert that he was more cruel than 
all the kings before him, and introduced dire calamities " in 
universam Egyptum," and also that he was put aside by bis 
guards, and in a fit of madness threw himself to the crocodiles. 
Surely his cruelty introduced the Hycsoa. But Eusebius says 
further that the same king introduced the fifth Elephantine 
dynasty, and Bunsen says that Africanus' name of the first 
ruler of that fifth dynasty, Outher- Chores, is without doubt 
to be identified with Useserkarf (ii. 190), and that he was 
buried in the field of the Pyramids, being, as is reasonable 
to suppose, one of the family of their erectors. This name 
does not appear in the fourth Memphite dynasty among the 
Suphi, but it does appear as Aches in the third, immediately 
preceding the last two names, which are evidently only varieties 
in writing Cheops and Chephen, and are therefore synonymes 
for these kings — and in this case, in the more marked manner, 
as an error in the length of his reign, where forty-two has been 
substituted for twenty-eight or thirty, has connexion with the 
difference of Africanus' sum of the dynasty from that of Euse- 
bius, which last we have already shewn to be the correct one. 
Is it not clear, that this king so often named and so connected 
was of the Suphi family, a tyrant as the others, and the special 
instrument whereby the Shepherds were introduced toEgypt, and 
that by bim the numerous divisions of the empire which succeeded 
to the advent of the Hycsos was brought about ? With these ex- 
planatory synchronisms, and with the assistance derived from 
the difference between the recorded sum of these dynasties, 
(especially of the Shepherds, in Eusebius, Africanus, and Jose- 
phus, as contrasted with the sixth Memphite dynasty, which 
appears to have been especially a Shepherd one,) and also with 
the memory of Herodotus' assertion that Philitia fed his flocks 
in the neighbourhood of the three Pyramids while they were 
being built, — not only does the story of Egypt reveal itself at 
once, being interpreted by that of the Hycksos ; but also the 
cotemporary dynasties are supplied with such an exactness of com- 
mencement and conclusion, in so many different instances, that 
we cannot doubt that its chronology, is equally before us. The 
perfect accuracy of this arrangement could only be explained 
by a continued reference to detail, and a diagram, which would 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



1 859.] Bunaen's Egyptian Hiatory. 67 

be tedious oq this occasion ; but the story thence resulting, 
which we proceed to give, and the synchronisms and reappear- 
ance of name already pointed out, (although several others 
exist,) will enable any one who has a copy of Bnnsen's lirst 
Tolume and a slight knowledge of the subject, to draw out snch 
diagram for himself. 

The commencement of the reign of Menes, according to the 
Theban, Thinite, and Memphite estimate of the first dynasty, 
was in the year before or after the Hebrew date of the flood, 
2348 B.C. But Eratosthenes, we have already seen, deducts as 
not genuine some one hundred years from this primeval period, 
and places thus the first settlement of the valley of the Nile in 
224& B.C., a date very clearly corresponding with the dispersion 
of Peleg and the foundation of the first and Cuthic kingdom at 
Babylon. The first settlers in Egypt, evidently dispersed and 
settled at different centres, brought with them a high amount 
of civilization; their rulers, however, were rather heads of 
families than kings. The first race of kings appeara to have 
been a branch of the Cuthic kingdom of Babylonia ; this race, so 
celebrated by Bawlinson, ruled at Babylon, according to Berosus, 
in two dynasties (i. 716), from 2259 b.c. to 1976 b.c, being suc- 
ceeded then by Chaldean races. The giant tribes of Southern 
Canaan, against whom, in 1934 b.c, Khedor-Laomer came up 
from Babylon, were also of this Cuthic race. The first of these 
kings in Egypt was apparently Setborsos, whose gigantic stature 
is mentioned, about 2092 b.c. ; they continued gradually becoming 
more oppressive until they culminated in the Suphi, 1934 B.C., 
who built the great Pyramids; their final ftJI took place in 
1834, before that same race of men which had previously broken ■ 
the centre of their race at Babylon. One hundred years, how- 
ever, before this, in 1934, they had first found these Fali pas- 
turing in their land, but at that time peaceably, the more warlike 
tribes among these being then engaged in uprooting the kindred 
kings of Palestine- Also when Abram found the Pali in the 
south in 1926 the peaceable and pastoral character seemed still 
well suited to them. But though these Nomads were at first 
peaceable, they did not always thus continue; some tyrannous 
act of Akthoes, who ruled over the part of Egypt nearest to them, 
either affecting them as his mercenaries, or c-ausing the native 
Egyptians to invoke their aid, they interfered and deposed that 
prince, making that part of the Delta subject to them, and 
establishing their own suzerainty over it. For a time the 
Suphi on the other side of the Nile either trusted or despised 
them ; yet this event seems to have had some efifect, and My- 
ceryuus the Holy appears to have desired to propitiate and gain 

f3 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



68 Buiwen'a Egyptian History. [October, 

the hearty support of his people. After his death it is most 
likely that an attempt was made by a marriage with Nitocria of 
some Suphite (perhaps Methu-Suphis), to avert the danger; 
but her husband having been treacherously killed, she took 
ample vengeance. And the Hycsos oo this occasion overran 
the whole land, driving the Coahite into Ethiopia, and appointing 
in subservience to themselves, native dynasties in the chief divi- 
sions of Egypt. For another 103 years they continued supreme, 
their sultans bearing the title of Apophis, although the par- 
ticular name of each individual is very doubtful, and Egypt, its 
labourers and its artificers, remained subject j but then civiliza- 
tion had its away again. Now it seems that in the country of 
Acthoes they had at first built a city for themselves, to which 
afterwards they added fortifications against the chance of any 
help being sent to their enemies from those Cushitea who were 
still ruling in Nineveh and its vicinity, and that afterwards they 
made Memphis their capital; thus it came about that gradually 
their race was divided, one part retained its Nomadic character, 
another became semi-settled and were of a mixed parentage. 

While this division was gradually growing up, Thebes, first of 
all the subject cities, gained its freedom, and at a very early date, 
perhaps even forty-three years after the year 1834 b.c, estab- 
lished an independent but friendly dynasty, under Amenemes I., 
eventuating in the twelfth dynasty. The twelfth dynasty seems 
to have obtained Memphis in 1781 b.c, when the true Nomads 
passed away, and the sixteenth dynasty, the mixed race, only 
remained. The mixed race became allies and perhaps subjects 
of the twelfth dynasty, and we may even surest, allowed the 
Theban king to be their suzerain, and to carry their royal title, 
as now at times the Emperor of Russia has carried that of Khan 
to certain Tartar tribes. After the cessation of the twelfth 
dynasty, apparently through failure of descent, we find these 
settled Hycsos again striving not only for independence but 
dominion ; we find them waging war with the successor of the 
Nantef dynasty, who seem to have been the first who esta- 
blished themselves in the seat vacated by the Sesortosids, and 
afterwards with Amosis, but unsuccessfully. They were conqnered 
and made servants, and nearly at the same time Israel became 
bondslaves. 

The sway of the twelfth dynasty became very noted under 
the reigns of Seaortosen III. and Amenhema III. or IV., who, 
as Bunsen most justly teaches us, were the Sesostris and Moeris 
of Egyptian story. In the reign of Seaortosen Til. not only 
did Egypt conquer- nations to the far north, but also far into 
the land of Cush. This is the king who first placed a tax upon 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Bimsen's Egyptian History. 69 

all the land in the country, except that of the priests, and thus 
founded the financial prosperity of the empire. To this king ia 
also attributed, hy Herodotus, the re-division of all Egypt, and 
therefore the invention of geometry. Moeria succeeded him, 
and was honoured as the reclaimer of the Paioum, the builder 
of the labyrinth, and the constructor of the great lake and its 
conoected canals. Now Bunsen and Lepsius both rightly place 
Joseph and the going down into Egypt under this dynasty, but 
our author fixes the time vei^ imperfectly under Sesortesen I., 
merely because we have a record of a great famine having hap- 
pened under that king's reign; the biblical student, however, 
well knowing the common occurrence of famines in those days, 
will rather consider that previous drought as one preparatory 
cause of Joseph's interpretations being so well received, than as 
a reason for disjointiug the Hebrew history written from the 
traditionary story of Egypt, when, by the use of the Scripture 
date, they so accurately support each other. Even after Bun- 
sen's arrangement, the agreement of Egyptian and Bible history 
on these events is very valuable, how much more so under our 
present explanation. We have learned that the Nomad shep- 
herds had lately been expelled from the land, hence only could 
the best pasture be given to Israel, hence only the abomina- 
tion expressed at the trade of a shepherd, hence the excuse for 
Joseph's calling his brethren spies, and for his saying to men 
professedly of the Nomad race, "to see the nakedness of the 
land ye are come." We have seen also that some of a mixed 
shepherd race still remained, and the length of Africanus' sum 
to die fifteenth dynasty forces us to believe that though in sub- 
jection to Seaostris, they were subject allies, Sesostria himself 
holding the sultan title over them ; here is a cause not only for 
the ready admission of Israel among them when their peaceable 
nature was established, but an explanation to the almost impos- 
sible tradition of Egypt, that Joseph served under an Apophis. 
Eratosthenes calls this Sestortosia, Sostic-Hermes ; surely the 
Hermes refers to Joseph ; surely we have here Egypt's testimony 
to his vFisdom, and thankfulness for all the benefits and wealth 
he provided by his rule, and may believe that to that wisdom are 
due the canals and lakes and perfect agriculture of bis day, as 
well as the division of the land and its taxation : finally we may 
also conclude, that to the same wisdom is really to be attributed 
the final settlement of the Egyptian Calendar, which is, indeed, 
most improbably in itself attributed to the last Shepherd Apo- 
phis of the fifteenth dynasty, but, by the peculiar conjunction of 
Joseph's time, may have been rightly so in name, and yet really 
have originated in Joseph, who was connected by marriage with 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



70 Bunaen'e Egyptian HUtory. [October, 

the Egyptian priesthood, and was their friend. So remarkable 
and perfect a correBpondence as thus presents itself of events, 
characters, titles, and persons, utterly unconnected and often 
opposite, can scarcely be found in viudication of any other his- 
torical event, hitherto subject to question either in sacred or 
secular history. 

The last few years of the twelfth dynasty are so obscure that 
we neither know certainly how nor when it ceased. They were 
succeeded not only by a war already related, but by the tempo- 
rary independence of Israel, an event which took place appar- 
ently in 1656 B.C. The Nantef princes having, however, c^led 
in to help them against the sixteenth Shepherd, AmoBis, who 
by marriage had kindred with the Cushite families in Ethiopia, 
that noted king seems to have gradually established hia own 
family in supremacy, re-introducing thereby, in some sense, the 
old Assyrian Cushic race to power, the hereditary enemy of 
the Shepherds, and of the twdfth dynasty. We have already 
seen that these new kings, who knew nothing of Joseph, to 
make all safe, enslaved Israel ; their lineage thus pointed out, 
gives double ground for their hatred. We have, however, no 
hint that Israel actually joined the mixed multitude against 
Amos ; rather we may expect the words of inspiration are liter- 
ally true, the "Assyrian oppressed them without cause." We 
have already traced their further history under the new empire ; 
it only remains to point out that the seventeenth dynasty ends 
with the Exodus, but that the sixteenth, after, in part, accom- 
panying Israel as far as Kadeab-Baraea, returned again to their 
settlement, took a share with their Palestinian Iriends in the 
plunder of their old enemies, and were made to share also in 
their frieuds' disasters, and date their final close of indepen- 
dence to the restoration under Ilaames I. and Sethos, after 
which doubtless many of them became slaves, labouring on the 
great buildings of their conquerors, though some left Egypt, 
and settled in various parts of the world ; one portion was vrith 
Banaus the colonizer of Greece, as the date, by its exact agree- 
ment between the close of the dynasty, the note of Manetbo 
concerning Armais, and Clinton's C^recian year of Danaus, un- 
mistakahly enforces. 

The subject we have proposed to ourselves is completed : it 
might have been extended indefinitely. We have endeavoured 
to pass by petty criticisms, and to meet Chevalier Bunsen's 
chaises against the inspiration of Bible history, on his own 
ground, feeling convinced that, although an inspired book may 
contract, in transcript, verbal errors in a greater or a less de- 
gree, and may, and indeed sometimes must, as a faithful witness. 



.byCOOl^lc 



1859.] The Emblems of St. /oA».— Rev. xi. 71 

relate to us, while giving the utteraoce of nninspired men, an 
ignorant or imperfect statement of events, it never can, as an 
expression of its own teaching, or as a part of its own record, 
bear witness to any untrue or ignorant statement of fact, whether 
in history or doctrine. If it be untrue in its witness of one, 
who shall trust its truth in its witness of the other? 

W. W. 



AVALiraS OF THE EMBLEMS OF ST. JOHN.-Ber. xi. 

(Continued from No. XVIII., p. 3B5.) 
We have thus altogether five, or perhaps six intervals, of which 
only two are defined. There is, first, the interval between the 
Brst separation of the nominally Christian community into two 
parts, the godly and the ungodly, and the period when the latter, 
gaining the ascendancy, began to trample on the former, this 
period being undefined : second, the period of this oppression, 
and the testimony of the witnesses in sackcloth defined as 1260 
days : third, the period of the warfare between the beasts and 
the witnesses, ending in the death of the latter — undefined : 
fourth, the interval which elapsed between the death of the wit- 
nesses, and the period when the nations began to contemplate 
their dead bodies, lying in the streets of the great city ; the ex- 
istence of this interval being uncertain, and if it exist at all, its 
duration being undefined: fifth, the period during which the 
nations contemplate the dead bodies of the witnesses, and ending 
in their revival, defined as three and a half days ; and, sixth, the 
interval between the revival of the witnesses and the termination 
of the divine mystery, undefined. This appears to be the stage 
of our investigation, at which we may, with the greatest advan- 
tage, take up the reserved question, of the meaning to be at- 
tached to the phrases, forty-two mouths, 1260 days, and three 
and a half days, which are employed to designate those of the 
above intervals which are defined. 

Of these phrases there may he taken two leading views, the 
one regarding them as chronological, designed to indicate spe- 
cific periods of time, the other regarding them as purely sym- 
bolic^ phrases. 

The chronological view, again, divides itself into two branches, 
for these expressions may be taken, either in their literal sense, 
as denoting the precise periods of time, which they express, or 
in a prophetical sense, as denoting much longer, but still specific 
periods of time. 



D,g,l,..cbyGOOl^[C 



72 The Emblems of St. Jokn.—Bev. xi. [October, 

The miun objectioa to these phrases beiog understood ia 
their literal sense, is that the periods appear to be too short. 
There is aa extreme improbability that events, jnade the subject 
of so remarkable a prediction, and in themselves so important, 
as are this trampling of the holy city, and the prophesying of 
the two witnesses in sackcloth, should endure for only forty-two 
literal months, or 1260 natural days. So brief a triumph of 
the powers of evil, and depression of the cause of Christianity, 
could hardly he regarded as an event standing out in such bold 
relief, as we have indicated by the prophecy before us. Besides, 
the whole of the phraseology is so obviously metaphorical, that 
it would be a violation of alt the rules of sound criticism to pick 
out these phrases irom the rest, and to give them a strictly 
literal interpretation. 

Then comes the other view, that these phrases, although 
they are to be taken in a chronological sense, are to be under- 
stood, not literally, but as indicating longer periods, according 
to analogies found in other prophecies of the sacred volume. 
Of such extensions of the meaning, the most probable, because 
supported by the most distinct an^ogies, is that of understand- 
ing each day to mean a year. Of this mode of inteipretation 
we have the most distinct example in the vision of Ezekiel (iv. 
1 — 6), where it is distinctly stated, that a day is given for a year, 
and that for a reason which is rendered very evident by the nar- 
rative. A less distinct example occurs in the prophecy of Daniel 
(ix, 24), where seventy weeks are used to denote 490 years. 
But here the term day is not employed, while the word week, or 
epoch of seven, may be held to apply to seven years, as well as 
to seven days, there having been, under the Jewish dispensation, 
a week of years, aa well as a week of days, the one marked by 
a sabbatical year, as the other was by the Sabbath day. There 
are strong grounds for supposing, however, that, in other parts 
of the prophecy of Daniel, the periods specified aa 2300, 1290, 
and 1335 days, may mean these numbers of years. Bnt the 
same uncertainty hangs over these, as over the periods specified 
in the Apocalypse. 

There is another curious analogy which somewhat favours 
this view, namely, that, supposing the three and a half days, 
during which the witnesses lay dead, to be three and a half 
years, this period would correspond to that, during which the 
heavens were shut, and rain was withheld, in the days of Elijah, 
a coincidence which might perhaps justify our regarding the 
latter event as in some manner foreshadowing the period during 
which prayer and the divine word should be in abeyance, and 
when there should be a &mine in the land, " not a famine of 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] The Emblems of St. John.— Rev. \\. 73 

bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing tif the word of the 
Lord." — Araoa viii, 11. 

Were this principle of reckoning days for years, however, 
to be applied to the 1260 days, and three and a half days, now 
under conaideration, it would be necessary to bear in mind that 
the years represented by these days cannot be solar years of 
3651 days each, but nmst be prophetical years of only 360 days 
each ; for in the next chapter, the 1260 days are called a time, 
times, and half a time, or three and a half times ; and it is not 
365J, but 360 multiplied by three and a half, that gives 1260. 
Hence, to find the number of solar years, we must multiply 
1260 by 360, and divide by 365}, which gives nearly 1245 solar 
years. Again, the three and a half days would, on this prin- 
ciple, represent 1260 natural days, and we should err, were we, 
by taking three and a half solar years, to reckon 1278 days; 
and we should err still more, were we to reckon the number of 
days to be 1275 or 1276, by taking three solar years, and adding 
thereto only 180 days, the half of a prophetical year of 360 
days. Hence, it is evident that any chronological calculations, 
or coiucidences, founded on reckoning the three and a half 
days to represent either 1378, or 1276, or 1275 natural days, 
must be fallacious. So also must be any such calculations 
as would make the 1260 days represent that number of solar 
years of 365} days, instead of 1260 prophetic years of 360 days 
each. 

Were this principle to be applied, it would have to be further 
borne in mind, that the language of the prophecy leaves it un- 
certain whether the entire period represented by 1260 days, 
during which the witnesses are to prophecy in sackcloth, must 
completely elapse, before the beast, ascending out of the abyss, 
begins to make war upon them — or whether this warfare com- 
mences before the lapse of the defined period; so as to make 
the death of the witnesses coincide with the termination of the 
1260 days, or prophetical years — the duration of the warfare 
being quite undefined. There must then be a period of exactly 
1260 natural days, during which the dead bodies of the wit- 
nesses lie exposed to the gaze of the nations; and thereafter a 
certain period has to elapse between the revival of the wit- 
nesses and the termination of the divine mystery, by the king- 
doms of this world, or at least some of them, becoming onr 
Lord's and his Christ's. 

It will be observed that the only arguments in favour of 
this hypothesis are drawn from analogies, and these not of a 
very strong kind — for too weak to overcome the very formidable 
objection which lies against this mode of reckoning. For the 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



74 The Emblemt of Si. JoAn.— Rev. xi. [October, 

principle of aoity of interpretatioD would require, that the 
same method sbould be applied to all the periods specified in 
the course of the prophecy. We should then have to reckon 
the five months' duration of the locust plague to be 150 pro- 
phetical years, and to interpret the hour, day, month and year 
of the plague symbolized by the four angels, on the same prin- 
ciple. But most startling of all, we should have to apply it to 
the 1000 years, mentioned in the twentieth chapter, as the 
duration of the triumphaat reign of Christiamty in the pre- 
sent world — thus extending that period to 360,000 years, o{ 
360 days each. Now this is a prolongation of the temporal 
system of the world, which ia in the very highest decree impro- 
luble, and it would require some very strong evidence indeed, 
in favour of this principle, before such an extension could be 
permitted. This, moreover, is a case to which the principle of 
unity of interpretation very clearly applies ; for no possible 
reason could be assigned why, in one part of the prophecy, 
1260 prophetic years sbould be called 1260 days, and in another 
part of the prophecy a thousand years should be called simply a 
thousand years. Nay more, this hypothesis would introduce 
into the prophecy a principle of deception, which cannot be 
recognized in any divine communication. 

For, in the designating of the period, during which the 
vritnessea are to prophesy in sackcloth, as only 1260 days, while 
the period of the triumph of Christianity on the earth is stated 
to be a thousand years, there is an evident design to convey the 
idea that the latter period greatly exceeds the former in dura- 
tion — that the space of time, during which the witnesses should 
be doomed to prophesy in sackcloth, should be short, compared 
with the long period, during which Christianity is to triumph 
over the powers of deception and wickedness in the temporal 
state of the world. But were we to interpret the 1000 years 
literally, and the 1260 days on the principle of assigning a 
year to each day, we should wholly reverse the idea ; for then 
the period during which the witnesses are to prophesy in sack- 
cloth would exceed, by nearly a fourth part, the period of the 
triumph of Christianity on the earth, and we should thus be 
making the prophecy convey a false impression as respects the 
comparative lengths of these two periods. 

Besides these very grave objections to each of the two 
branches into which the chronological hypothesis divides itself, 
there is another which applies generally to the principle of in- 
terpreting these phrases according to either of these chrono- 
logical methods. It is this. Our Saviour declares to bis dis- 
ciples: "It is not given to you to know the times and the 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] The Emblem* of St. John.^Jiey. si. 75 

seasons." Now this declaration renders it highly improbable 
that, in this prophecy, there should have been such indications 
of the times and the seasons as should render them capable of 
being ascertained by anticipation, of being exactly calculated 
beforehand, by a skilful application of scriptural analogies. It 
ifl plain, that the principle of taMng a day for a year being 
based solely ou the analogies fiimished by the prophecies of 
Ezekiel and Daniel, was ascertainable, or at least might be 
readily conjectured ; so that these periods, and all others hing- 
ing upon them, might be calculated before the events ; and 
thus the declaration of our Saviour would be falsified. 

This objection, however, applies only to such a method of 
interpretation as would render the epochs specified capable of 
being ascertained by anticipation ; and woidd not affect any 
principle which should so connect the events with chronological 
epochs, as to make it clear after the events that the prophecy 
did really correctly foretell the occurrences, as respects their 
order and duration. 

The purely chronological method of interpretation being 
opposed 1^ such formidable difficulties, it remains for us to seek 
a more probable solution in the symbolical principle. This 
method of interpretation we have already recognized in the case 
of the locusts, where the life-time of the physical locust was 
shewn to symbolize the whole period of the duration of the 
moral disorders typified by those creatures, but without defining 
that period. It has been also shewn to be highly probable that 
the same principle applies to the hour, day, month and year of 
the visitations, represented by the four angels — these periods 
symbolizing the increasing intervals of time at which the fout 
successive visitations, all of the same kind, should begin their 
action, but without defining those intervals. Now, if we could 
apply a similar symbolical method to the 1260 days, and the 
three and a half days, and also to the 1000 years, the principle 
of unity of interpretation would be preserved intact. With 
respect to the 1000 years, little difficulty would be experienced ; 
for it is a not uncommon mode of expressing, metaphorically, 
a very long but indefinite period of time. About the 1260 
days and three and a half days, however, there is a peculiar 
character which forbids our regarding them in this purely inde- 
finite sense ; and we must therefore look for some more specific 
symbolical meaning to be attached to them. 

It cannot escape notice that both of these periods are hemi- 
cycles — the shorter, three and a half days, being half a week ; 
the longer, forty-two months, or 126t) days, being half a week 
of years. The entire cycles, of which these are the halves — 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



76 The Emblems qf St. JoA«.— Rev. xi. [October, 

namely, seven days and eighty-four months, involve the two 
apocalyptic numbers of perfection — seven and twelve, — the 
eighty-four months being the product of these two numbers, so 
making completeness in an emphatic sense. There being thus 
stamped on the face of these tno periods a decided cyclical 
character, it behoves us to inquire what are the cycles here 
symbolized ; for the specification of half cycles obviously im- 
plies the existence of the whole cycles, of which they are the 
halves. 

Now, the symbolical principle of interpretation requires ns 
to regard these, not as physical but as mond cydes — die inter- 
vals between two great epochs in the moral history of the 
human race, and more especially in the history of the Christian 
religion — the one cycle being of much longer duration than the 
other. It is not necessary, however, to suppose that the one 
should be exactly 360 times longer than the other, according to 
the proportion which 1360 bear to three and a half days. It is 
enough that the disproportion between the two be very con- 
siderable. This principle we have already recognized in the 
case of the hour, day, month and year, with respect to which it 
has been shewn to be highly improbable that they represent the 
precise relative durations of four successive intervals, although 
the likelihood be great that they do represent four successive 
intervals, each longer than the preceding. 

Bat, while the symbolical principle requires us to regard the 
cycles as being not physical but moral, it does not exclude the sup- 
position that the Deity may, for a wise purpose, have estabHshed 
some relation between the moral and certain physical cycles. True, 
it is affirmed that " with God one day is as a thousand years, and 
a thousand years as one day ; " so that He does not regulate 
his moral government of the world by the revolutions of the 
planets. Still, it is quite conceivable that, for some wise end, 
such, for example, as rendering the fulfilment of a prophecy 
more remarkable and striking, the Deity may, in some cases, 
make moral cycles correspond to certain physical cycles. 

Thus, two suppositions arise out of the symbolical principle 
of interpretation. First, that the moral cycles have no con- 
nexion whatever with any physical cycles; or, second, that God 
has, for wise ends, and in the present case, perhaps, to render 
the fulfilment of the prophecy more striking, established a con- 
nexion between these moral cycles and certain physical cycles. 
Of these two suppositions, the former possesses the greatest 
amount of inherent and antecedent probablility ; for there is no 
necessary connection between moral events and the physical 
revolutions of the planets ; so that it cannot be antecedently 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] The Emblems of St. John.—'Rev. xi. 77 

presumed in any particular case. Indeed, nothing could jusify 
our recognition, in any instance, of such a relation, save the 
detection after (he occurrence of the events of a coincidence ao 
marked as to render it evident that the Deity has, for some wise 
end, made a moral cycle to coincide with a physical. 

On the other hand, if such a coincidence should be found in 
the case before us, the objection arising out of the declaration 
of our Saviour, " it is not given to you to know the times and the 
seasons," would not affect our recognition of the relation ; for 
it is plain that the connesioo between a moral and a physical 
cycle being inherently improbable, no calculation could be 
founded on the presumption that such a relation might exist ; 
and even if it were suspected, it would be impossible to guess 
beforehand what particular physical cycle might in any instance 
correspond with the moral. 

These two suppositions, then, fall to be separately considered ; 
and the first, being the simpler, demands our earliest attention. 

Now, the existence of a great moral cycle in the case before 
US admits of no doubt ; for we have it clearly indicated in the 
proclamation of the angel, with respect to its terminatioQ. It 
is equally evident, that the moral cycle referred to is that long 
interval during which there was an apparent delay in the fulfil- 
nient of the promise, that the kingdoms of this world should 
become our Lord's and his Christ's. 

In determining the commencement of this cycle, we must 
consider the point of time when the followers of Christ might 
entertain a reasonable expectation that the promise was about to 
be fulfilled ; for it is only from that point that the apparent de- 
lay in its fulfilment could be properly regarded as a divine mys- 
tery. Now, when we examine the prophecy of our Lord [in 
Matt, xxiv.jj on which we have already had occasion to com- 
ment, it will be perceived to contain a prediction that, imme- 
diately after the overthrow of the Jewish polity in Church and 
State, which he foreshadows in highly figurative language, the 
Son of Man shoidd be seen coming in the clouds of heaven 
with power and great glory. This prediction, which the event 
shews to have referred to the great development of the Christian 
religion that followed the overthrow of Judaism, was obviously 
liable to be so misunderstood by the early Christians as to lead 
them, from that moment, to expect that the kingdoms of this 
world were about to become those of our Lord and his Christ ; 
and from that time the delay in the fulfilment of the promise 
would appear to them a mystery of God. 

In seeking for the terminal point of the cycle, again, it will 
be found necessary to guard the mind against the mistake of 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



78 The Emblemi of St. John.—B^v. xi. [October, 

regarding the mere nominal adoptiou of ChriBtianity, by any 
ruler or nation, as a fulfilment of the prophecy. The sovereign 
may call himself a Christian, and hia kingdom Christian ; yet 
he, personally, may remain unconverted in heart, and hia king- 
dom may be continued to be ruled on mere worldly maxims, 
principles and considerations ; but the prophecy would, in that 
case, still remain unfulfilled. Nothing could justify the song 
of triumph, which followed the blast of the seventh trumpet, 
except the public recognition of the pure and simple doctrines 
and principles of Christianity by several of the sovereigns and 
and kingdoms of this world, and their making these doctrines 
and principles the rule and guide, not only of their private 
lives, but of their government in their several dominions. For 
the kingdoms of this world becoming those of our Lord and his 
Christ means that the sovereigns not only acknowledge Christ 
as their supreme head and ruler, but that in governing their 
kingdoms they apply the pure principles of genuine Chris- 
tianity as maxims of state, and are guided by them in their 
dealings with all classes of their subjects. 

In the search for this terminal epoch, we have a guide in 
the terms of the song of triumph ; for it obviously implies that 
several of the kingdoms of this world became those of our Lord 
and his Christ about the same time. It is not necessair to 
suppose that all the kingdoms of this world had become Chris- 
tian before this triumph was proclaimed. It would be enough 
that several of them at once acknowledged pure Christianity as 
the rule and principle of their government, for there would 
thus be an end put to the mystery of delay in the fulfilment of 
the promise ; although the completion of that fulfilment might 
be yet further postponed. But from the mention of several 
kingdoms it is necessary, in searching for the period, to look 
beyond the time when the nominally Christian community was 
all embraced within one great empire, ruled by one supreme 
head, and to extend our research into those times when the 
Christian community became distributed over several separate 
kingdoms. 

It does not fall within our province to trace out the historical 
epoch to which the aong of triumph refers. It is enough for 
na to have indicated the general principles which must guide the 
inquirer. Let ua, meanwhile, assume that the epoch is found ; 
then the interval between the overthrow of the Jewish polity, 
and tbia epoch of several of the kingdoms of this world becom- 
ing those of our Lord and his Christ, is the great moral cycle 
to which the angel refers in his proclamation, and may be 
called " the cycle of the mystery." 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] The Emblema of St. John.—'Rev. zi. 79 

Now, the principle of symbolical interpretation requires that, 
whatever may be the physical duration of this moral cycle, it 
should be that period which in the prophecy ia symbolized 
under the metaphor of the physical cycle of a week of years, or 
eighty-four months — and that the half of this cycle i^ what is re- 
presented under the metaphor of forty-two months, or 1260 days. 

What is required for the verification of this principle, then, 
in the case before us, is that assuming the period designated as 
forty-two months, during which the majority, composed of 
worldly-minded men in the nominally Christian community, 
trampled on the minority, composed of the genuine disciples of 
Christ, and the period designated as 1260 days, during which 
the two witnesses of divine truth, the written Word and public 
prayer fell into such discredit, that those who adhered to them 
mourned, as it were, in sackcloth — assuming these two periods 
to be concurrent, and to constitute one epoch, the historical 
iuquirer should be able to shew that this epoch ia exactly half of 
the great cycle of the mystery, whatever may be its physical 
duration ; just as the forty-two months constitute one half of 
the week of years which symbolizes the entire cycle. 

The question is thus reduced from one of dates to one of 
proportion ; for the prophecy does not give any indication such 
as would enable an enquirer to discover, by aniicipalion, what 
is the precise position of this hemi-cycle of mourning in the 
great cycle of the mystery. That position can be deter- 
mined only by the two limiting events. The first of these is 
the point of time at which the worldly-minded professors of 
Christianity, finding themselves superior in number to the true 
disciples, began to tyrannize over them, and to corrupt the pure 
doctrines and rituals of Christianity by saperstitious traditions 
and practices. This marks the commencement of the hemi- 
cycle of mourning. Its termination, again, is less certain. It 
ia either the point of time at which the power symbolized by 
the beast begins to wage open warfare against the reading and 
expounding of the Word of &od to the people, and the offering 
1^ of public prayer in such a manner as to be understood by 
them ; or else it is the close of that warfare, by the reduction 
of these two great means of grace, and witnesses for the truth 
of God, to mere lifeless forms — quite unavailing for the spiritual 
nourishment of the people called by the name of Christ. 

What is required, then, is to shew that the interval between 
the commencement of the tyranny of the nominal over the tme 
Christians, and either the beginning of the open warfare by the 
power represented by the beast, or its close in the death of the 
witnesses, is, in duration, one half of the interval between the 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



80 The Emblems of St. John.—^v. xi. [October, 

fall of the JewiBh polity and the begiDniDg of the fulfilment of 
the promise, by a considerable nnmber of the kingdoms of this 
world becoming those of our Lord and his Christ. The cycle 
of mourniDg must be shewn to be half of the cycle of the 
mystery. If this can be done, the proof of the symbolical prin- 
ciple of interpretation, as applicable to the twenty-foiir months 
and the 1260 days, will be complete. 

Then, with respect to the shorter cycle, which is symbolized 
by a week of seven days, its terminal point evidently coincides 
with the termination of the cycle of the mystery ; but its com- 
mencement is not quite so evident from the terms of the pro- 
phecy; for it is left doubtful whether the space erf three and a 
half days typifies the whole time during which the witnesses lie 
dead, or only the time during which the attention of the people 
is roused to the contemplation of their state of deadness. The 
latter conclusion appears the more probable of the two; for had 
it been intended to define the whole period of their bodies 
lying dead, the defining phrase would have been applied at first 
to the statement that their bodies lay in the streets of the great 
city. But the limitation of the period is applied more especially 
to the act of the nations — their gazing on the dead bodies — 
that is, their having their attention roused to this state of dead- 
ness. It is, therefore, not improbable that there may be a con- 
siderable undefined interval between the point of time at which 
the witnesses were reduced to lifeless forms, and the point of 
time at which the attention of the nations began to be attracted 
to this their lifeless condition. 

Hence, while it is quite clear that the hemi-cycle embraces 
only the period of time during which the state of deadness into 
which the witnesses had been reduced attracted the attention of 
the nations, it is not so clear whether the entire cycle, of which 
this epoch forms the half, commences with this awakening of 
the nations, or with the actual death of the witnesses. If with 
the latter, then the second half of the cycle will fall to be divided 
between the period during which the dead bodies lay unobserved, 
and the period from the revival of the witnesses to the end of 
the cycle. But if the cycle commence with the awakening of 
the nations, then its second half will be the interval between 
the revival of the witnesses and the point of time when some of 
the kingdoms of this world became those of our Lord and his 
Christ; and these two periods would thus be exactly equal to 
each other. A careftil examination of the events can alone de- 
cide which of these two views is the more correct. If, however, 
it should be found that the period during which the attention of 
the nations was called to the deadness of the witnesses was 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] The Emblemt tff St. /oA«.— Eev. xi. 81 

equal either to that which intervened between their reviyal and 
the end of the great cycle — or to this latter interval united to 
that which intervened hetween the death of the witnesses and 
the awakening of the nations, then the proof of the symbolical 
principle of interpretation will be complete, and we must r^:ard 
the three and a half days, or half week, to mean the half of a 
smaller moral cycle involved in the lai^r, and terminating at 
the same point of time. This smaller cycle we may call " the 
cycle of the witnesses," and the hemi-cycle, during which the 
nations contemplated their lifeless forms, we may call " the 
hemi-cycle of contemplation." Thus we shall have, first — " the 
great cycle of the mystery," and its half, " the hemi-cycle of 
mourning," so placed in it as to allow an undefined interval both 
before and after the hemi-cycle. We shall next have " the cycle 
of the witnesses" and its half, "the hemi-cycle of contempla- 
tion." The cycle of the witnesses will terminate at the same 
time with the cycle of the mystery; but the position of the 
hemi-cycle of contemplation is left by the prophecy uncertain, 
seeing it does not clearly appear whether the cycle of the wit- 
nesses ought to commence coiocidently with the hemi-cycle 
of contemplation or with the death of the witnesses at a prior 
date. 

The proof of this method of interpretation depends entirely 
on the result of the historical investigation into which it is not 
OUT province to enter ; suffice it to have indicated the course to 
be pursued. It is allowable, however, here to consider the ab- 
stract probabiUty of this method as compared with that of 
reckoning a year for each day, a comparison in which we may 
be greatly helped by an examination of the component parts of 
the several cycles. Whatever view be adopted, it is evident that 
the 1360 and three and a half days being both hemi-cycles, the 
existence of the whole cycles to which they severally corre- 
spond is implied. If the principle of holding each day to mean 
a year, then, be correct, there must exist two cycles, the one 
composed of seven " timet," each time consisting of 360 years, 
and each year of 360 days ; the other also composed of seven 
" timet," bnt each " time" consisting of only 360 natural days. 
In the former case we should further expect each time of 360 
years to be a distinct and recognizable epoch, well defined by 
some remarkable events. 

On the symbolical principle, again, the composition of the 
cycles would be difierent. Both cycles would be simply moralj 
the intervals between two remarkable eras in the religions his- 
tory of the human race ; each, however, would in like manner 
be divisible into seven periods; but these would not be of any 

VOL. X. — NO. XIX. o 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



82 Tke Emblems of St. JbA«.— Rev. v. [October, 

definite physical duration, or separated from each other by well- 
marked physical limitations. They would simply be seven dis- 
tinct aud clearly recognizable stages in the moral and religious 
history of the world. 

Now the question comes before us in this shape — which is 
the more probable composition of these cycles, the chronological 
or the moral. And to this inquiry the prophecy itself famishes 
a reply. We have a clear intimation of the existence of seven 
periods marked by particular stages in the moral and religious 
history of the world, bat we have no indication that these 
periods each consisted of 360 years, each year of 360 days, or 
indeed that they were of any definite chronological duration 
whatever. On the contrary, we have fair evidence that these 
periods in some instances merged into one another, the peculia- 
rities of one period subsisting after those of a succeeding period 
had began to develop themselves. In those instances moreover 
where a specific physical duration appears to be assigned to the 
intervals, they are not periods of S60 years, but different phy- 
sical cycles, pretty evidently used in a metaphysical sense. 

With respect to the greater cycle, that of the mystery, its 
division into seven stages is very clearly marked by the seven 
trumpets. The proclamation of the angel, impersonating the 
spirit of prophecy, compels us to regard the sounding of the 
seventh trumpet as marking the close of this cycle ; whence it 
fellows that the sounding of each of the preceding trumpets in 
like manner marks the ending of the preceding stage. Thus 
the first stage will commence with the overthrow of Judaism, 
symbolized by the darkening of the sun, the turning of the moon 
into biood, and the felling of the stars, which followed the 
breaking of the sixth seal, and will end vrith the blast of the 
first trumpet. The second stage will end with the blast of the 
second trumpet, and so on to the last, which ends with the blast 
of the seventh trumpet. 

Now it is very evident that these seven stages ore moral 
epochs, each distinguished by some peculiarity in the moral and 
religious state of human society. There is not a particle of 
evidence to shew that they were of eqnal physical duration, far 
less to prove that each continued for exactly 360 years of 360 
days. The evidence is all the other way, indicatiug that the 
physical duration of these several stages in the cycle were very 
unequal, while in the case of the sixth and seventh, we have 
evidence of no small strength that the immoralities which cha- 
racterized the sixth, symbolized by the locusts, continued to 
subsist during the greater part of the seventh period. We are 
therefore warranted in concluding that these seven stages were 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] The Emblem* of St. Jo&i.— Rev. xi. 88 

not physical periods of equal duration, but merely moral epochs 
of unequal length, yet marked by very distinct metaphysical 
peculiarities. The component parts of the great cycle being 
thus seven moral epochs, the probability that the cycle itself is a 
greater moral epoch becomes very strong. But if the entire 
cycle be moral, the hemi-cycles must alao be moral, consei^uently 
the half week of years ought to be taken, not in a physical but 
in s metapbysical sense. 

With respect to the smaller cycle, that of the witnesses, the 
occurrence of seven stages is quite as plainly marked; hut there 
is a little dubiety introduced by the circumstance that the pro- 
phecy does not clearly indicate whether the cycle commences 
with the war waged by the beast against the witnesses, or with 
the death of the latter. Neither does it indicate with precision 
whether the hemi-cycle of contemplation embraces the whole 
period of their deadneas, or only that portion of it during which 
the attention of the nations was called to their lifeless forms. 
This circumstance introduces some uncertainty as regards the 
proper method of dividing the cycle. Supposing it to commeuce 
with the war, and that the period during which the witnesses 
lie dead is not to be divided into two, then the seven stages 
would be the following i — First, the stage of warfare between 
the beast and the witnesses; second, that of their deadneas; 
third, that of their rerival ; fourth, that of their exaltation ; 
fiftb, that of the great popular commotion typified by the earth- 
quake ; Bisth, the foiling away from their allegiance to the great 
city of one-tenth part of its former citizens, and the loss of repu- 
tation sustained by a large portion of those who had acquired a 
□ankc for sanctity, and seventh, the repentance of the remnaut. 
Suppose, again, that the period of the deadness of the witnesses 
is to be divided into two ; then the earthquake and its conse- 
quences must be thrown into one, and this appears the more 
probable arrangement, seeing the fall of the tenth of the city, 
and the loss of reputation sustained by the seven thousand, are 
specified as concomitants of the earthquake. The seven stages 
will therefore be — first, the war ; second, the death of the wit- 
nesses ; third, the contemplation of their deadness by the nations ; 
fonrtb, their revival ; fifth, their exaltation ; sixth, the earthquake 
and its concomitants ; and seventh, the repentance of the rem- 
nant. If the cycle is to commence with the death of the wit- 
nesses, again a corresponding change must be made in the 
arrangement of its other divisions so as to complete the seven. 

Now it is plain that these are all moral epochs, and there is 
a total absence of evidence to shew that they were of equal 
duration, far less to make it clear that each laisted for exactly 

■^.L ...Google 



84 The Emblem of St. JoAn.— Rev. si. [October, 

S60 natural days, conseqoently there are the same grounds as 
in the former case for preferring the view that the cycle, as well 
aa the component parts, is a moral rather than ^phytical epoch, 
and that the phyHical hemi-cycle specified ought therefore to be 
taken in a metaphysical sense. 

Viewing the cycles in connexion with their seven constituent 
parts, there is a mode of regarding the hemi-cycles which might 
readily occur to the mind, but which nevertheless is inadmis- 
sible, and against which it is therefore necessary to guard. It 
is this; seeing the entire cycle in each case consists of seven 
moral epochs, might not the hemi-cycle consist of three of those 
epochs and half of another f This view, though plausible at first 
sight, is excluded in the case of the smaller cycle, because what- 
ever view we take of the events constituting the seven epochs of 
the cycle, it is evident that the hemi-cycle of contempUtioa 
constitutes one of them by itself, consequently the epoch during 
which the nations contemplated the deadness of the witnesses 
must be equal in duration to all the others put together. But 
the principle of unity of interpretation requires that we should 
apply the same rule also to the larger cycle, and indeed the 
tenor of the symboUzation renders it pretty evident that the 
hemi-cyde of mourning is embraced in the last of the seven 
epochs into which that cycle is divided, so that the duration of 
the seventh must be greater than the conjoined duration of all 
the rest. Consequently in neither case is it admissible to regard 
the hemi-cycle as composed of three of those epochs and hidf of 
another. 

There is an advantage attending the symbolical principle of 
intei-pretation which has not yet been noticed, but which it may 
be well here to mark. If we here adopt the principle of reckon- 
ing a year for each day, then must we of necessity regard the 
forty-two months, during which the Gentiles trampled on the 
holy city, and the 1260 days of the witnesses prophesying in 
sackcloth, as identical and concurrent periods, both consisting of 
1360 years, each year of twelve months, each month containing 
exactly thirty days. But from this necessity we are by the 
symbolical principle entirely relieved. Begarding both the 
forty-two months and the 1260 days as symbolical espresaions, 
denoting the halves of great moral cycles, they may each be the 
same half of one cycle, or the halves of difi'erent cycles, or dif- 
ferent halves of the same cycle. It is certainly very remarkable 
that resort should here have been had to a different mode of ex- 
pression if the ideals were absolutely identical, and this circum- 
stance is rendered still more striking by its repetition in the 
subsequent part of the vision in which the duration of the power 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] 7%e Emblem qf St. /oA«.— Bev. xi. 85 

of the beast is denoted by forty-two months, while that of the 
flight of the woman is denoted by 1260 days. It can hardly be 
imagined that this vanation of expression is adopted for no pur> 
pose whatever, and it would be difficult to discover any other 
reason than that it was intended to intimate some distinction 
between the two moral cycles thus designated. The resort to 
the larger units of months in the one case may be meant to 
indicate that the one hemi-cycle is the half of a greater cycle 
than is the other, or at least that the cycle whose half is thus 
symbolized is different in its commencement and its ending 
from the other. 

Although the evidence ia very clear that the hemi-cycle of 
mourning terminated with the death of the witnesses, if not 
before it, there ia no evidence to shew that the tyranny of the 
nominal Christians over the true disciples terminated at the 
same time. Ou the contrary, the tendency of the symbolization 
ia all the other way, leading to the inference that this tyranny 
survived not only the death bnt also the exaltation of the wit- 
nessea, and extended far into the ulterior period to which the 
symbolization of the seventh trampet relates. Such an exten- 
sion appears quite irreconcilable with any mere chronological 
interpretation of the forty-two months and the 1260 days. Bnt 
if we regard them symbolically as merely modes of expressing 
the halves of moral cycles, then we are at liberty to view the 
cycles to which tbey severally appertain as quite distinct ; that 
.to which the 1260 days belongs commencing with the fall of 
Judaism, and ending with the establishment of certain of the 
kingdoms of this world on purely Christian principles. We 
have not yet before na sufficient information to determine 
the beginning and ending of the cycle to which the forty-two 
months belong. All that we can ascertain as yet is, that the 
hemi-cycle itself commences with the period when the false pro- 
fessors of Christianity began to outnumber and tyrannize over 
the true, bnt it appears to extend onward to a terminal point 
which we shall not be able to determine antil we make further 
progress in our researches. 

It remains that we develop the second supposition arising 
out of the symbolical method of interpretation, namely, that the 
Deity may possibly have for wise ends established a relation be- 
tween the two moral cycles (those of the mystery and of the wit- 
nesses), and certain physical cycles. This supposition, as we have 
already said, is so inherently improbable that nothing could 
justify it except the detection after the events of such a 
marked coincidence aa to leave little or no doubt that the 
moral are really related to certain physical cycles, for such a 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



86 Tke EnUilemg (/ St. JoAn.— R€v. xi. [October, 

coincidence conld never be antidpated from any prior conn- 
derations. 

The most remarkable of the physical cycles are the four fol- 
lowing : — First, the cycle of the moon, nineteen years ; second, 
the cycle of the sun, twenty-eight years ; third, the cyde of the 
sun and moon, or Paschal cycle, found by midtiplying these two 
numbers together, and hence consisting of 532 years. This 
cycle brings the Paschal feast round to the same day ; fourth, 
the cynic cycle, or cycle of the Dog-star, embracing 1460 years. 
This cTcle is the period during which the quarter days, whereby ' 
the solar year exceeds 365 days, accumulate into a year, so that 
were each year reckoned as consisting of only 365 days there 
would have to be added at the end of every 1460 years an extra 
year to rectify the calendar. This was the method of reckoning 
followed by the ancient Egyptians. The four most remarkable 
chronological cycles are therefore respectively 19, 28, 533 and 
1460 years, and these present this facility for adaptation to 
moral cycles that they may start from any point of time, dif- 
fering in this respect iirom purely astronomical cycles, such as 
those connected with particalar positions of the perihelion or 
equinoxial points. 

Now if the result of the historical investigation should be 
to render it evident that the termination of the cycle of the 
mystery took place in the 1461st year from its commencement, 
then it would be almost impossible to resist the conclusion, that, 
for the better verification of this remarkable prophecy, the Deity 
had brought the moral cycle of the mysteir to concide with the* 
cynic cycle — making the beginning of the fulfilment of the 
promise, by several of the kingdoms of this world becoming 
those of our Lord and his Christ, to take place in the 146l8t 
year from the final overthrow of the Jewish polity in Church 
and state. 

If sQch a decided coincidence can be traced, then the 
hemi-cyde of forty-two months or 1260 days, would sym- 
bolize half of the cynic cyde, or 730 years; and it would 
remun to be shewn historically, that this was the length of 
the period during which the two witnesses prophesied in sack- 
cloth. 

We have a remarkable example of a similar halving of a 
moral cycle, in the case of the interval between the date of our 
Saviour's birth and the fall of Jerusalem, which was divided 
into two nearly equal halves by his death. Indeed there 
is a curious cyclical character presented by the events in 
the life of our Lord: — the period of his ministry lasted for 
six years, and in the seventh he entered into his rest; while 



.by'COOl^lc 



1859.] ITie Emblems of 81. JoAn.— Rev. xi. 87 

his whole mortal career waa composed of six periods, eoeli of 
six years." 

Again, with respect to the shorter cycle — that of the wit- 
nessea — if the result of the hiBtorical ioqairy should render it 
clear that at the distance of nine and a half years, before the 
termiDatioD of the cycle of the mystery, there happened an 
event which could be plainly recognized as a decided revival of 
the testimony of the two great means of grace, the Word of God 
and public prayer, in a language understood by the people, as 
witnesses to the pure and simple doctrines of Christianity ; and 
if it could be further shewn, that at the distance of other nine 
and a half years previous to this revival, the attention of earnest 
men, and through them of the nations generally, began to be 
attracted to the condition of mere lifeless forms, into which these 
two witneascH had fallen, then it would be impossible to resist 
the conclusion, that for the better verificatioQ of this prophecy 
the Deity had brought the cycle of the witnesses to correspond 
with the lunar cycle of nineteen years. But if it should be 
found that these two events occurred at the respective distances 
of fourteen and twenty-eight years, before the terminatioD of the 
cycle of the mystery, then we should conclude that the cycle of 
the witnesses had been made to correspond with the solar cycle. 
In the one case, the three and a half days or half week would 
represent nine and a half years, in the other case fourteen years. 

This curious question is one which can be decided only by 
careful historical research ; but it is one to which the attention 
of every inquirer into the historical falfilment of this prophecy 
ought to be particularly directed. 

This peculiar cyclical character can be expected to apply 
only to the intervals of 1360 and three and a half days, and not 
to the undefined intervals involved in the greater cycle ; such as 
the lapse of time between the commencement of the cycle of 
the mystery, and that of the hemi-cycle of mourning, or the 
interval between the termination of the latter, and the com- 
mencement of the cycle of the witnesses; for these intervals 
being undefined, nothing of a cyclical character can be looked 
for in them. 

It will be specially observed, that the symbolical method of 
interpretation, whether we take it in its more simple form, or 
with the superinduced supposition last considered, is no greater 

■ If the date ungned bj Usfacr for the dedicatioa of SoiamaD'e temple be 
correct, ouoely B.C. 1004, the birth of Chmt, nhich took place b.c. i, ^ould be 
exactly 1000 jtxn dUtaut From the former event, — >o tbst a certain cjclical character 
voold thus be given to the interval between the manifettation of the divine gloiy in 
the material rom, and iti manifeetation in the organic niut, the bod; of Chmt. 



.byCOOl^lc 



88 The Embknu of Si. /oAn.— He?, xi. [October, 

departure from the liierai sense, than would be the taking of 
the forty-two months to mean 1260 Tears of 360 days each, or 
the taking of the three and a half ^aya to mean 1260 natoral 
days. The one departure trom the literal sense has no greater 
inherent probability than the other. Bat if !t be affirmed, that 
the principle of taking a day to mean a year is supported by 
the analogies furnished in the prophecies of Szekiel and Daniel, 
this circumstance ought to operate against that principle, and in 
favour of the symbolical. For the declaration <k our Lord, " it 
is not given to you to know the times and the seasons," rendera 
it highly improbable that this prophecy should furnish precise 
data whence the times and the seasons should be capable of 
exact calculation b^ore the evmtf, and such would be the case 
were the analogies in the prophecies of £zekiel and Daniel fol- 
lowed in the prophecy before us. But by the adoption of a new 
principle, the specifications given in this prophecy cease to render 
the times and the seasons (deniable before the events ; for the 
symbolical principle of regarding the cycles whose halves are 
typified by the half week of days and the half week of years as 
being moral cycles, makes it impossible to guess tbe length of 
those cycles by aniicipation ; while even if the events shew tbat 
the moral cycles coincide with certain physical cycles, such a 
coincidence could not be anticipated by any human foresight, 
f&r less could it be foreseen with what particular physical cycles 
tbe moral would be made to correspond. 

Upon the whole, therefore, if the symbolical principle of in- 
terpretation in either of its forms be found to be supported by 
the results of the historical investigation, there need be no hesi- 
tation in giving to it the preference over every other. 

A further question, however, will remaio for the historical 
inquirer. What is the connexion, if any, between the periods 
mentioned in this prophecy and those specified in tbe book of 
Daniel, and whether the two series of events referred to in tbe 
two prophecies be the same ? That such a connexion may be 
found, is rendered probable by the circumstance of the prophe- 
tic roll which was given by the angel to John being already 
open, thus indicating that the prophecy contained in the roU. 
bad been, to a certidn extent, already published, and that it was 
now to be more fully proclaimed by the apostle ; for it is evident 
that all that part of the vision which follows the apostle's eating 
the roll is the substance of the prophecv contained in that docu- 
ment. This view is further confirmed by the circumstance, that 
both in this prophecy and in that of Dauiel, there is a reference 
to the trampling of the holy place by the Gentiles ; but it is not 
unlikely that the predictions in Daniel apply primarily to Israel, 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Vie Emblemt of 8i. John.—Tiev. xi. 89 

according to ihe flesh, and only remotely to tbe apiritaal Israel ; 
whereas the predictions of John Beem to apply primarily to the 
latter. Hence it may be foand that the two series of eveots are 
not identical but merely analogous, and that the "times" spe- 
cified in Daniel apply to the one series, and those in the vision 
of John to the other. The only expression common to the two 
prophetnes is the peculiar phrase " time, times, and half a time." 
But in Daniel's prediction the expression, " half a time " ap- 
pears to mean rather the dividing of a time, that is, some por- 
tion of a time, not an exact half; for there are afterwards spe- 
cified two periods, one of IS90, the other of 1335 days, one or 
both of wtuch seem to be embraced under the more general 
formola. 

Nor is there anv distinct gronnd for holding that the period 
or cycle indicated by tbe word " time " is the same both in 
Daniel's prophecy and in John's. On the contraiy, it is a 
curious circumstance that the 1290 days of Daniel, if reckoned 
in years, amount to exactly three times the celebrated cycle of 
430 years which intervened between the promise made to Abra- 
ham, and the commencement of its folfilment by tbe liberation 
of his descendants from Egypt, This coincidence might almost 
justify our regarding 480 as the anit of " a time " in Daniel's 
prophecy, the 1290 being three times, and tbe 1335 three times 
and a portion of a time. 

There is also spedfied in a previous part of Daniel's pro- 
phecy a period of 3300 days, whereas in John's prophecy " the 
time, times, and half a time " are identified with 1260 days, and 
no mention is made of the numbers specified in Daniel's vision; 
while these numbers, moreover, do not possess that peculiar 
cyclical character whicb distinguishes the 1260 and three and a 
haU days of Jobn. It is therefore not improbable tbat a totally 
different principle of interpretation applies to the one series of 
numbers from that which explains the other. The question of 
the relation between the times respectively specified in the pro- 
phecies of Daniel and of John is one involved in great obscurity, 
requiring the most careful consideration of the historical in- 
quirer. The following curious relations may be here noted, in 
case they may possibly aid in elucidating this obscure subject. 
It is evident that the unit called " a time" in the Apocalypse is 
360 days, of which periods three and a half make up 1260 days. 
Now, if one of these units of 360 days be added to the 2300 
davB of Daniel, the amount will be 2660 days, which, if reckoned 
in years, make exactly five Paschal cycles.^ 

* There a Boother coiDddenc* tffeeting ibeie 2300 dajFa which tDiypottlify exiit 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



90 Jlie Embkma <if St. /oAn.— Bev. xi. [October, 

Again, if we take Daniel's 1290 and 1335 dsya, not ae con- 
durent, but Buccessive epochsj they make 2625 days. Now the 
starting point of the 1290 days ia tbe removal of the daily sacri- 
fice at the destruction of Jerusalem. Bat the fulfilment of the 
Paschal type by the death of Christ took place about thirty-six 
years previously, so that the termination of the above period, if 
reckoned in years, would fall in the 266lBt year from the death 
of Christ, again corresponding to five Paschal cycles. Farther, 
if to the 1290 days of Daniel, reckoned as years, we add 171 
years or nine lunar cycles, we obtain 1461, corresponding to the 
termination of the cynic cycle from the deatmetion of Jerusalem, 
which cynic cycle may possibly be found to tally in duration 
with the cycle of the mystery in John's prophecy. 

This is perhaps the most interesting of these curious coinci- 
dences. For if the 1290 days of Daniel and John's cycle of the 
mystery both started from a.d. 69, the date of the fali of Jem- 
smem, they most be concurrent. Daniel's period seems to mark 
the interval between the abolition of the daily sacrifice by the 
destruction of the temple, and the setting up of the abomination 
of desolatioa. Beckoning the 1290 days as years, we are brought 
to A.D. 13S9 as the date of the setting up of the abomination. 
Add 171 years, or nine lunar cycles, and we come to 1630, the 
146lBt year tvom the iall of Jerusalem, which would be the end 
of John's cycle of the mystery, supposing it to correspond to the 
cynic cycle. Now if the setting up of the abomination coincided 
with the commencement of the war waged by the beast against 
the witnesses, this latter event would thas be fixed in a.d. 1359. 
Again, if the smaller cycle of John were a lunar cycle of nineteen 
years, the revival of the witnesses would take place between 
A.D. 1520 and 1521, and the period when attention began to be 
called to the lifeless condition into which they had fallen 
A.D. 1511, and during the latter interval between 1511 and 

tftbeybe reckoaedu to mmj jun, tod u starting from a.d. 69, the date of Uie 
fall <^ Jernulem. The date of the Tision of Daniel in nhich tbis period wai revealed 
to bim is staled to hate been the third year of the reign of Belshazzu ; bnt unfortu- 
nately there is great uncertainty aa to the chronolngicid correspondence of that dale. 
Uiher makes it aboat B.C. 553, while others differ by aa much as nine or ten yeare. 
The year b.c. 553, according to the cinil or Aulorical modiB of reckoning, correaponda 
to the year b.o. 652, aceording to the tutnmoniical or arilhnuticiU mode of reckon- 
ing; because the year hdare a.d. 1 is hy historians called b.c. I instead of b.c. 0. 
Now the fall of Jenualem took place Sept. 1, a.d. 69, or abont 69{ yean troai the 
commencement of the Christian era. If thm the dream of Daniel took place 550^ 
years betbie the commeDcement of the era or bcfere b.o. 1, it would happen in a.c. 
S52, or a year later than Usher'a date. We should then have this curious coinci- 
dence: — tlie interval between Daniel's dream and the fall of Jerusalem would be 
620 years, and theae added to the 2300 days mentioned in the dream, if reckoned 
in yesrs, would make 2920 yean, which is exactly two cynic cycles. 



.byCOOl^lc 



1859.] The Emblems of St. JoAb.— Rev. xi. 91 

1520 the attention of the nations would continue to be directed 
to the contemplation of their lifeless forms. 

These are merely thrown out as snggeative hints to the his- 
torical inquirer, who mnst however beware of suffering himself to 
be misled by them as preconceptions, or of permitting them to 
interfere with the main branch of his inquiry, which is simply, 
whether the hemi-cycle of mourning be half of the cycle of the 
mystery, and the hemi-cycle of contemplation be h&if of the 
cycle of the witnesses — this being all that is necessary to the 
establishment of the symbolical principle of interpretation. For 
it must be borne in mind that the coincidence of any of the 
moral with physical cycles is no part of that principle, but rather 
an excrescence upon it — an excrescence, moreover, which would 
require the support of the very strongest historical evidence 
before its existence could be admitted. 

Now, with respect to the chronological position of the 
series of events, shadowed forth in the two visions which follow 
the blast of the sixth trumpet, there seems nothing to binder 
onr supposing tbst duting a considerable portion of their course 
these two series were concurrent. The only thing rendered 
clear by the visions, is that the first series terminated some 
little time before the second. For, daring the whole of the 
first series, the nneealed continued impenitent, and were found 
. in the same state at the end of it. 

With regard to the second series, i^ain, while the unsealed ap- 
pear to have continued impenitent, during the greater part of its 
duration, some of them did begin to repent before its close. 
The first symptom of this penitence we detect in the circnm- 
stance of their contemplating the state of deadness into which 
the witnesses for the truth of Crod had fallen, and their refusal 
to allow them to be buried out of sight and out of mind. 
The revival of the witnesses, moreover, being followed by the 
conversion of some of the kingdoms of this world to the pure 
principles of Christianity, we are led to infer that the repent- 
ance of the ungodly took place on an enlarged scale, imme- 
diately after the witnesses revived. 

It is necessary to distinguish between the action of the 
second vision, and the prophecy contained in the roll given by the 
angel to the apostle. The symbolical action of the angel when 
he proclaims the approaching termination of the cycle of the 
mystery, must be understood immediately to follow the termi- 
nation of the action of the four angels in the previous vision ; 
because the very terms of the proclamation shew that the 
sonuding of the seventh angel was close at hand. But it is 
quite different with the events detailed in the prophecy, relative 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



93 The Embtema of 8t. John.—Rer. xi. [October, 

to the vitnesses, which was erolred from the roll §;ivGn by the 
angel to the apostle; for these ereats obviouBly occupy a large 
portion of the cycle of the mygterr, whoae approaching termi- 
oation the angel had proclaimed. It is thus rendered probable 
that this latter series of events was, fer the most part, contem- 
poraneoQB with the four visitations in the previona vision. The 
only point which the language of the apostle renders clear is, 
that the cycle of the four visitations termiiiat«d some time be- 
fijre the cycle of the mystery, and, probably before the eom- 
mencement of the period, when the attention of the nationa 
be^an to be called to the state of deadness into which the two 
divine witnesses bad fallen. It is the province of the historical 
inquirer, however, to ascertain the precise dates of the begin- 
ning and ending of the cycle of the four visitations, as well as 
of the other moral cycles involved in the vision.' 

The interesting episode of the two witnesses is brought to 
a close, and the general thread of the vision resumed, oy the 
solemn announcement — " The second woe is past ; behold the 
third woe cometb quickly." When we review all the occur- 
rences, between the proclamation of the commencement of the 
second woe and this intimation of its close, it will be perceived 
that they present a twofold character, embracing both the 
divine judgmenta for transgression, and also Iresh accnmnlations 
of guilt on the part of the earth's inhabitants, rendering it < 
necessary that fresh judgments should follow. After tbe looa- 
ing of the four angels reatraiDed by the mystic Euphrates, 
whose agency was obviously intended as a chastisement, we find 
that those who escaped the effects of these visitations did not 
repent of their wickedness; and if the persecution of the two 
witnesses followed, in the order of events, the four invasions of 
tbe 200,000,000 of horse, or was contemporaoeous with them, 
we should be led to conclude that this impenitence was mani- 
fested by an aggravation of guilt on the part of the earth's 
inhabitants, involved in this warring agidnst the witnesses and 
depriving them of life — an offence which entailed npon them 
the third woe. 

In both branches of the vision we can trace the agency of 
the spirit of self-delusion, personified by the angel who sounded 
the sixth trumpet. It has alreiidy been shewn that it was by 
the operation of this spirit on the minds of the unsealed, that 
they were led to neglect their territorial defences, and tboee 

' It would be cuTUHU if the remit of the hiatorical ioquiir Bboold be to Gi tbe 
tenuiDBtion of the cycle of the four visitatioot in a.d. 1454, and that irf the cycle 
of the mysteiy In a.d. 1530 ; because the iatervsl is Beventy-Biz yeln, which il 
ftmr Inoar eyelet, or ODe-serenth part of « Paachal cycle. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] The Emblenu of St. JoAn.— Bev. zi. 93 

inBtitatioiis, civil and military, by which they were mtuntaised, 
and thus to let loose those warlike hordes whom these reatrain- 
ing influences had hitherto held in check. But the same self- 
delusion it evidently was that led the Gentiles, or men of the 
world, to prefer treading the outer courts of the temple to enter- 
ing into the sanctuary — to mistake the outward profession of 
Christianity for Christianity itself— to imagine the natural 
snperstition, inherent in the human mind, to be true religion — 
to substitute outward pomp and show, in the performance of 
rites and ceremonies, for the true spiritual worship of that 6od, 
who, being himself a spirit, desires all his servants to worship 
him in spirit and in truth ; and, lastly, to addict themselves to 
the adoration of sensible images and &lse mediators of their 
own creation ; so rearing up a system of modified heathenism, 
which they mistake for genuine Christianity. The same spirit 
of self-delusion would lead them to regard the true disciples of 
Christ, whose principles and practice differ from theirs, as 
heretics, and so to hate and persecute them — while, as regards the 
two witnesses of Qod finding these to bear testimony against 
them and their polytheistic principles, they would try to stifle 
their testimony by reducing them to mere lifeless forms. 

It hence appears that the symholization, thus understood, is 
perfectly natural throughout — presenting a connected chain of 
causes and effects, in the whole of which the operation of the 
spirit of self-delusion, in the minds of the ungodly, can be dis- 
tinctly traced. 

In the expression "the second woe is past," we have in the 
original the same phrase of douhtfiil interpretation, as in the 
ease of the first woe. It may mean either that the second woe 
has simply issued forth, or that it has come to an end. In thia 
case, however, we have distinct collateral evidence that the 
latter interpretation is to he preferred. For it is announced 
that the mystery of God, which obviously embraces all the 
events connected with the two witnesses, should terminate when 
the seventh angel should begin to sound his trumpet; and we 
have an assurance of this termination in the proclamation and 
song of thanksgiving, which immediately follow the sounding of 
the seventh trumpet. In farther confirmation of this view, we 
observe that to the statement, " The second woe is past," there 
is added the annoancement, " and behold the third woe cometh 
quickly ;" thus indicating that a new scries of disastrous events 
was about to follow, immediately after the termination of the 
divine mystery, which was to coincide with the sounding of the 
seventh trumpet. 

This point is very important in connexion with the chrono- 



...CbyCOOl^lC 



94 The Emblems of 81. JoAn.— Eev. li. [October, 

logy of the visioos ; for it compels na to regard all the events sym- 
bolized by the scenic representations which follow the sounding 
of the seventh trampet, as sncceediog in the order of time those 
symbolized under the visions that follow the sounding of the 
sixth trumpet. The latter having been now fully coasidered, it 
is time to proceed with the apostle's narrative, which continues 
as follows (ver. 15): "And the seventh angel sounded ; and 
there were great voices in heaven, saying. The kingdoms of this 
world are become the kingdoms oi our Lord and his Christ, and 
he shall reign for ever and ever." The words proclaimed by 
these voices are somewhat differently given in the several editions 
of the Greek text. In those of Griesbach and Lachmann they 
run thus, " The kingdom of the world has become our Lord's 
and his Christ's ; and he shall reign for ever and ever." Others 
again have simply, " The kingdom has become our Lord's and 
his Christ's," etc. Bloomfield, however, supports the reading 
of the received text — " The kingdoms of the world are become 
our Lord's ajid his Christ's." But if this latter reading is to be 
preferred, we must understand by it no more than that some, not 
all, of the kingdoms of the world had become our Lord's ; other- 
wise, the prodamation would imply the fnll and final triumph 
of Christianity; whereas, from the circumstance of the third 
woe being yet to come, and from the descriptions which follow 
in the next and subsequent chapters, this was obriously very 
far from being the case. The reading of Griesbach has a much 
more restricted meaning. It imports no more than that the 
dominion of the world had been gained by our Lord and bis 
Christ, and that his reign over it should henceforth be perma- 
nent. Heretofore, the dominion of Christ over the human 
mind had been too snccessfolly resisted by the combined powers 
of ignorance, superatidon, formalism and idolatry, which had so 
far succeeded in the struggle as to reduce the two witnesses of 
God, pnblic prayer, and the public reading and preaching of 
the Word, to mere lifeless forms. ■ But now that these two wit- 
nesses had been revived, and elevated to the sphere of influence 
and power, the progressive triumph of the dominion of Christ 
had become secure. Pure Christianity, and the freedom and 
civilization which it tends to promote, had acquired such a firm 
footing in the world that ignorance and slavish superstition 
could never again wholly overspread the earth ; and this chiefly 
because of the revival of the witnesses, and their elevation to 
so high a sphere of infiuence and power, that their testimony 
could never again be suppressed. 

On the whole, however, the received text, if understood 
as implying no more than that some of the kingdoms of this 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1S690 7^ Emblems t^f St. John.— Rev. xi. 96 

world iLad become truly Ctiristiaii, appears entitled to the pre- 
fereace. 

This aDDonncement of the completion of the divine mys- 
tery, the approach of which was proclaimed by the angel who 
personified the spirit of prophecy, has been already commented 
on so much at large as to render it scarcely necessary to add 
more in this place. It may be remarked, however, that by the 
great voices in heaven we ought probably to understand the 
voices of those possessing great sway in the moral and intellec- 
taal heaven — the sphere of influence and power. 

In the following verses we have the substance of a subhme 
hymn of thanksgiving, raised by the twenty-four elders, to 
celebrate this beginning of the fulillment of the promise, that 
the kingdoms of this world should all ultimately become Chris- 
tian, in the proper sense of the term (verses 16 — 18) : " And ' 
the four and twenty elders, which sat before God on their seats, 
fell npon their faces and worshipped God, saying. We give thee 
thanks, Lord God Almighty I which art, and wast, and art to 
come ; because thou hast taken to thee thy great power, and 
hast reigned. Aud the nations were angry, and thy wrath has 
come, and the time of the dead ; that they should be judged, 
and that thou shouldst give reward nnto thy servants the pro- 
phets, and to the saints, and them that fear thy name, small and 
great, and shouldest destroy them which destroy the earth." 

It has already been pointed out that from the repeated re- 
introduction of the original throne and its adjuncts, it seems 
probable that, as the several scenic representations evolved from 
the seven-sealed volume were successively withdrawn from the 
apostle's mental eye, the original vision of the throne, the 
elders, and the four living beings reappeared, until they were 
again superseded by &esh scenic representations ; so that their 
reappearance may be held to indicate a pause in the scenic 
representations of the seven-sealed volume — consequently a suc- 
cession in the order of events represented. Reasons have been 
already assigned why we may not infer that the throne and its 
adjuncts were continuously visible throughout the whole of the 
scenic representations. 

In the offering of adoration and thanksgiving, described in 
the passage now under consideration, the twenty-four elders 
appear to act in the same representative capacity, as in offering 
their original hymn of thanksgiving which they sung before 
the Lamb — namely, as proxies for the entire body of the re- 
deemed. Nor does this action of the elders militate against the 
supposition that they arc impersonations of the virtues that 
oi^ht to adorn the Christian character. For in raising this 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



96 The Emblems of St. JbAn.— Rev. xi. [October, 

hymn of thaaksglTing they may be regarded bb the representa- 
tives of all those in whose bosoms the virtues which they sym- 
bolize have a permanent seat. It is quite natural that every 
virtuous mind should thus triumphautly render thanks to Ciod 
for the glorious issue of the stru^le, which had been maintained 
in the world between the powers of light and darkness. The 
circumstance that the elders are thus again introduced as 
proxies for the redeemed in offering this thauksgiying, is a 
f\irther proof that the redeemed were not at this point of time 
in a position to ofTer their thanks in their proper persons to 
their great Head, visibly present among tbem,'&nd thus confirms 
the conclusion already attained that the previous scene, in 
which the assembled multitude of the redeemed are introdnced 
as standing before the throne, is anticipatory, and refers to the 
final conHummation in the future state — that it is a repetition in 
symbol of the prophecies already existing, in regard to the final 
triumph of the saints in the everlasting life. But in the sym- 
bolization before us, there is a return to the temporal state, 
during which the saints can render their thanks to God only 
through the medium of the elders — those personifications of the 
Christian graces and virtues ; for it is only by exhibiting these 
graces and virtues practically in their lives and conversations, 
that they can evince their gratitude to God, for having thus ter- 
minated the mystery involved in the persecution of the wit- 
nesses, by the powers of the earth arrayed in opposition to the 
progress of divine truth. 

The first reason assigned for this thanksgiving to God is, 
" Because thou hast taken unto thee thy great power and hast 
reigned." This form of expression, which refers to sometbii^; 
already accomplished, indicates the meaning to be, that the 
Deity had put forth his power and asserted his sovereignty, the 
allusion being obviously to the immediately preceding assertion 
of divine sovereignty in the revival of the witnesses and their 
triumph over their enemies. This is farther evidenced by the 
next statement, " And the nations were angry," obviously 
referring to the warfare tbey had carried on against the wit- 
nesses. " Bat now," it is added, " thy wrath is come, and the 
time of the dead, that they should be judged," The hour of 
retribution had arrived. " The dead," that is the apirilually 
dead, were now to be judged, their name of being alive had 
been taken from them, and their hypocrisy bad been unmasked, 
so that they were now brought to righteous judgment. 

The time had also arrived when reward was to be given " to 
the prophets and to the saints, and to all that fear the name of 
God, both small and great." As this statement obviously does 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] 7%e Emblema of Si. JoAb.— Rev. xi. 97 

not refer to the final consammation of all things, and the reward 
of the righteous in the future sttite, aeeiug the temporal history 
of the world was far &om being as yet brought to a close, we 
must understand the reward here spoken of as about to be given 
to the prophets and saints, as consisting in the triumph of those 
principles of righteousness and truth for which the; had con- 
tended, and for which many of them had laid down their lives. 
We may not hence conclude, however, that the deceased saints 
had in the meantime any knowledge of this change in the state 
of human society, " for there is no work, nor device, nor know- 
ledge, nor wisdom in the grave" — in hades, under whose re- 
straiuts they lie. But at the resurrection, when they shall enter 
upon their future and everlasting state of existence, their joy 
will be enhanced when it shall be made known to them that 
their labour was not in vain in the Lord, but that their struggles 
in the cause of divine truth, although apparently fruitless at the 
time they were made, were long after they had been gathered 
to their fathers crowned with brilliant success, and that their 
humble efforts contributed to the final triumph of enlightened 
civilization and Christian truth. 

There is yet another sense in which this passage may be 
taken. It may mean that the time had now come when the 
servaats of the Lord should no longer have to struggle on 
without any apparent success and without any fruits of their 
labours, hut that their efforts in the cause of truth should now 
visibly prosper, and that they should thus derive even a present 
reward from their exertions on behalf of the Christian faith. 

The time had arrived not only for rewarding the servants of 
the Lord both small and great, but also " for the destruction of 
those who destroyed the earth." The Greek verb here employed 
means " to destroy by corruption." It may therefore signify 
that those who corrupted the earth by false and debasing doc- 
trines should now be themselves corrupted, abandoned to their 
own corrupt doctrines and practices, and sink into still greater 
depths of degrading ignorance and superstition. 

We are nest informed by the apostle that " the temple of 
God was opened in heaven, and there was seen in his temple the 
ark of his covenant." In Griesbach's edition the reading is 
" the covenant of the Lord," but the variation is not important. 
It is almost unnecessary to say that the temple here spoken of 
cannot be any material structure. It is obviously the same 
temple which John was commanded to measure, the spiritual 
temple, the naoa or abode of the indwelling divinity. This 
temple it has already been shewn means the whole company of 
those whose bodies are the temples of God by reason of the 

VOL, X. NO. XII. H ,- , 

Digili.^byCjOO^^IC 



98 The Emblems of St. John.— Rev. xi. [October, 

Spirit of God dwelling in them. Whtit then are we to under- 
stand by this temple being now opened in heaven, and there 
being seen in it the ark of the covenant of the Lord? This 
statement seems to import that for some time previous to this 
epoch the spiritual temple had been so far closed that the ark of 
the covenant of the Lord which it contained could not be seen. 
The great mass of mankind had been content merely to tread 
the court of the temple. They had rested satisfied with mere 
ontward forms and ceremonies, bnt the true temple, the inner 
sanotnary, had remained closed to them by reason of tbeir wilful 
ignorance and unbelief. As they did not choose to open the 
door of their hearts to him that stood knocking for admission, so 
they could not enter by the door, which is Christ, into the com- 
pany of the true believers, who constitute the spiritual temple of 
God, by having God dwelling in their hearts. Now, however, 
this spiritual temple was opened in heaven, that is, in the moral 
and intellectual heaven, the sphere of influeoce and power, and 
it was seen of all men to contain tfae ark of the covenaat of the 
Lord, by which is obriously meant the pure gospel of Christ, 
which is the divine covenant or agreement entered into with 
mankind, whereby the Deity agrees to fcfrgive men their tres- 
passes, and to save them from the power and the punishment of 
sin on the simple condition of their yielding a willing obedience 
to the influence of his Spirit, inducing them to bebeve in Christ, 
to obey his precepts, and rely for their ultimate salvation purdy 
and simply on his perfect merits alone. 

During the long period of the persecntion of the witnesses, 
this ark of the covenant, this pure doctrine of the agreement 
which God has made with men for -their salvation by Jesos 
Christ, remained concealed within the spiritual temple, bidden 
within the bosom of that comparatively small company in whose 
hearts God dwelt and reigned. But now that the two witnesses 
have triumphed over their enemies, and been elevated to the 
sphere of influence and power, the temple is thrown open, the 
company of those who are led by the indwelling Spirit of God is 
greatly enlarged ; they are found in the moral and intellectual 
heaven, and it is made manifest that the true secret of their 
holiness is their possession of the ark of the covenant of the 
Lord, the pure doctrine of the gospel of Christ. 

This opening of the spiritu^ temple of God is followed by a 
great elemental strife in the moral world which is described in 
the following metaphorical language : " And there were light- 
nings and voices, and thunderings and an earthquake, and great 
hail." All these effects except the last are stated to have fol- 
lowed the casting down upon the earth of fire from the altar, 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



1859.] Theoloiftr qflUvieaHon and Heathenism. 99 

mentioned in the seventh chapter, and the same explanation of 
the terms employed, which was given in treating of that emblem, 
will apply to the present case. The lightnings spoken of are 
intellectual iires — the flashes of conviction darted across the 
minds of men, and corruBcations of genius enlightening the 
darkness of the moral atmosphere. The voices are probably 
those of prayer and praise, the thunderings the preaching of the 
Word, and violent contentions for and against the truth, while 
the great earthquake seems to imply much commotion tuul ex- 
citement in the popular mind. But what is the great hail? In 
the seventh chapter the same metaphor occurs, and It waa shewn 
probably to mean something having a diilling and destructive 
effect upon the green herbage, or young converts, snch as prohi- 
bitory edicts showered from the political authorities. The 
meaning here is probably analogous. Thia great hail may re- 
present the efforts of the prince of the power of the air, the 
spirit that worketh in the children of disobedience and of all his 
sons, to chill the spiritual ardour that was non kindled, and to 
destroy the young wheat growing in the Ijord's field. It may 
farther be indicated that these efforts are now to a certain ex- 
tent restrained. They no longer assume the form of fire 
mingled with blood ; bnt they are restricted to hail, the shower- 
ing down from the seats of authority of prohibitions, anathemas, 
and excommunications, hurled against those who seek to leave 
the court of a mere formal and ceremonial religion, and to enter 
the true temple where God who is a Spirit is worshipped in 
spirit and in truth. 



TBJi TEEOIOaT OF EEVELATION AND OF HEATKBNISK. 
No man thinks rightly until he thinks rightly of Crud. A man's 
kaowledge may be varied, vast, and accurate in all other paths of 
human learning, but without the true knowledge of God his 
acquirements but resemble a star-bespangled sky which the 
sun's genial influence may be supposed never to cheer. The 
scene is brilliant and sublime, but it is chill, dark, and mys- 
terious. 

Some maintain that the knowledge of God is innate to the 
soul of man. If by this is meant that men almost universally 
agree in believing in the existence of beings far superior in 
power and intelligence to any known inhabitants of the earth, 
to this we agree ; but that any individual ever attained to the 
knowledge of the true God except through Kevelation we utterly 



Digil^b/GOO^^IC. 



100 -Theology of Revelation and Heathenism. [October, 

deny. The mind of m&n when left to its own unbiassed reflec- 
tions rejects the thought of annihilation, and peoples the un- 
known world of the futnre with inbabitaats cbaracterietic of 
the climate the thinker inhabits and the education he has re- 
ceived. The mythologies of the northern or southern regions 
vividly portray the truth of these observations, and so universal 
is the law thus impressed upon our nature that Voluey, the 
prince of modern Atheists, despite bis astuteness, displays bis 
own subjection to what he would doubtless in the case of others 
style the feebleness of our nature. The man who in the pleni- 
tude of his dogmatic philosophy sneers at the idea of a God ex- 
isting independent of his own work, in an unguarded moment 
evokea from the mouldering ruins of some fallen city a very 
commonplace denizen of another world, who enveloped in some 
of the mysticisms of his earthly disciple, delivers sundry very 
trite truisms, for the utterance of which it was perfectly useless 
for him to have troubled himself to leave the other world. Id 
short, the god of Voiney (for he is virtually his god) falls short 
of the intelligence of the tamest of the genii mentioned in the 
stories of the Arabian Nights, nor does be possess a tithe of the 
wit and tact of the elves and fairies so familarly described by the 
peasantries of the different nations. 

Polytheism is the natural offspring of the mind's aptitude 
to people the other world with imaginary inhabitants, and the 
very certain consequence of such ideas has always been a belief in 
the general similarity of the feelings and pursuits of such supe- 
rior beings, and oftbose who are inhabitants of the present world; 
and there arises a reverence and worship based upon such simi- 
larity. The men who worshipped Krishna, Orus, or Apollo as 
the god of light, and music, and the arts, merely found in such 
worship a pleasant mode of indulging enthusiasm in reference 
to their favourite pursuits, and instead of seeking inspiration 
from heaven they attempted to fill heaven with phantoms of 
their own devising. So unblushingly, indeed, was this carried 
out, that every vice was allotted a celestial patron, and in con- 
sequence the rest of the heavenly inhabitants were represented 
as more debased in their practice than their earthly worshippers, 
because in almost every condition man's perception of right and 
wrong will act as a restraint upon his depravity. 

Iliose philosophers who maintain that man was created in a 
savage state must admit that Polytheism is the highest advance 
in theological knowledge to which man can advance by his own 
unassisted intellect, because no instance can be given wherdn a 
nation has advanced from Polytbeism to pure Deism without 
the latter doctrine having been introduced firom a foreign source ; 

Digili.^byCOOl^lc 



1859.] Theology of Revelation and Heathenism'. 101 

and it must be admitted on all aides that the Jewish religion is 
the primary fountain whence this dogma has spread its inQu- 
eoce. We mean not for a moment to assert that the Jewish 
religion originated the idea; but we unhesitatingly assert that 
the Jewish religion was the only one which retained from the 
great abyss of primeval truth this radical doctrine, with vital 
energy aufficieot to spread it beyond its own circumference. 
Even in the obscurity of the systems of Polytheism the idea of 
one Supreme can be more or less dimly seen, and in particular 
in the Indian mythology, since we have become better acquainted 
with its details. But as the character of one Supreme, imma- 
culate in nature, and consequently requiring purity in his wor- 
shippers, laid too severe a restraint upon man, the imaginative 
and congenial religion of Polytheism took its place without 
utterly destroying the idea of one Supreme. 

Another principle leading to Polytheism is the eagerness 
with which the mind pries into secondary causes, because of the 
satisfaction arising from their real or supposed discovery. In 
the childhood of the individual and the childhood of a literature 
the mind rests contented with any alleged cause which may 
appear sufficient to produce any given effect. While, therefore, 
a rational consideration of secondary causes was beyond the 
mind's grasp, much less was the still more abstract principle of 
the unity and ubiquity of God capable of being conceived ; and 
hy a very natural consequence the very idea waxed fainter and 
fainter until it all but disappeared. On the other hand, the idea 
of a multiplicity of intelligent though invisible agents, to pro- 
duce sensible effects, is so congenial to the social feelings of man, 
that it has been found among all tribes. Nor did their wisest 
men detect fully the irrationality of such a multiplicity of 
superior and often contending deities. Most true it is that it 
required little profound wisdom to begin to be dubious of 
such childish mythology ; but although reason matured might 
even go beyond mere doubt, and unhesitatingly decide that the 
gods of the nations were vanity, yet unassisted reason could ad- 
vance no further, but was compeUed to settle down in utter 
recklessness and indifference, or by activity in other pursuits to 
divert the attention from the mysterious subject altogether. 

The Greek mythology is as it were culled and selected by 
human genius from graver and sterner mythologies, and this 
happened from the fact that the Hellenistic race was never 
seemingly under the induence of a combined priesthood ; and 
this occnrred perhaps from the fact that colonies from other 
lands introduced fragments of their mythologies without any of 
the accompaniments of a sacerdotal caste, from whose influence 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



102 7%eoloffy of Revelation and Healheniem. [October, 

very probably they were glad enoagb to have escaped. The 
poet naturally took the place of the priest, and rejecting the 
disagreeable parts, modalated the vhole into the joyous thoogh 
sensual romance of Olympns. The freedom which poetry took 
with the quainter systems of mythology, philosophy her younger 
sister took still more freely, and as the kuovledge of secondary 
causes advanced, so the Sgments of the imagination vanished 
from the minds of scholars, because the scholar is the regular 
successor to the poet in literary routine. In other words, when 
the enthusiasm of poetry has expended its fervour in every given 
cycle, scholarship and criticism follow in her footsteps. When, 
therefore, among the Greeks, the fervour of primeval poetry 
abated. Philosophy, in rejecting her assumptions and traditions, 
introduced her own. From the discovery of a few secondary 
causes she endeavoured to reason out the most extensive gene- 
raliEations without being at all aware that her scanty foundation 
was utterly unequal to the stupendous edifice she would fain 
raise upon it. 

But though the Grecian philosophy took a more extensive 
scope and a bolder range than that of other nations, particularly 
from the time of Socrates, yet it could never completely tree 
itself from the consequences necessarily entailed by the supposed 
infallible truth of certain principles ; which are, if not identical, 
yet so similar to corresponding axioms of Eastern, and especially 
Indian philosophy, that despite the opinion of some modem 
critics, it appears plain, in our opinion, that either one was an 
ofifehot of the other or that they both bad a common origin. 
The modem Pantheist fails greatly in the attainment of that 
profundity of thought which marked the mental history of his 
colossal predecessors in the ancient world, and his most vigorous 
efforts to approach to their standard resemble the puffings of 
the frog in the fable to rival his neighbour the ox. Pantheism 
was more congenial to the East, while the Grecian philosophy, 
influenced perhaps in a good measure by advance in geometric 
science, adhered more strictly to the series of successive causa- 
tion. The Eastern mode delighted in personification; the 
Grecian in the less fancifiil hut more ai^mentative form of 
cause and effect. As the latter method may be made demon- 
strative to a certain degree, and as the Greek philosophy has 
ruled the European mind, processes of thought have almost 
always been, amongst ns, considered as legitimate, if pnrsued 
according to this model. Hie doctrine of sequence was clearly 
and vididly portrayed ; another view of which is the certain 
connexion between cause and effect ; and this appears to be an 
innate perception of the human understanding, without which 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Theology of Revelation and Heathenum. 103 

all knowledge would be utterly eraQeaoent ; for it wonld be con- 
fined to present and independent perceptions, vhich could afford 
no preference to the memorj' for the retainment of one 'more 
than the other. The philoaophies of the ancient world have 
only succeeded in following the sequences afforded by creation 
up to what they styled the first cause; but, except this one 
scieotific problem whose conclusion was true, on every other 
subject they possessed not a single point apon which they could 
uaiversally agree, or give satisfactory proo^ of its reality. They 
arrived Intimately at a first cause, but to the all-important 
queatiou. What is that first cause? the doctrine of sequence 
eould give no satisfactory answer. 

The Eastern philosophies being greatly infiuenced by the 
imagination, revelled iu the principle of emanation; which, 
being chiefly Pantheistic in its tendency, extended very widely 
from its grand source, India ; whilst the dualistic theory was 
propagated from Persia. The Grecian philosophy was based 
apon the form of the Indian, modified, perhaps, not only by 
the Egyptian phase of it, but also by the Assyrian ; but the 
principal change which it received was from the &ee spirit 
of inquiry so congenial to the (rrecian temperament. But with 
whatever certainty they (Stained the assurance of a great first 
cause, their moral estimation was utterly at fault ; " Because that 
when they knew that there was a Qod, they honoured him not 
as God, nor praised him, but became vain in their speculations, 
and their foolish heart was darkened." — 'Rom. i. 21. 

Whether the practice of Christian theologians in very gene- 
rally imitating the ancient philosophers is useful, appears to us 
very doubtful. That which was invariably unproductive in its 
own soil can never succeed better in one utterly foreign to its 
nature. If God has revealed himself to us in the plenitude of 
his moral attributes as well as his infinite existence, the method 
of simply proving a first cause is perfectly superfinous, because 
contained in the very revelation ; and if considered by its^f it 
will bave no tendency to coindde with the existence of the true. 
This appears from the fact that when the supposed demonstra- 
tions are consummated, the mind has to use a violent effort to 
transfer their boasted (%rtainty to the character of the true Grod 
who scorns their impotence. But we will go further, and main* 
tain that they become a snare to many who, satisfied with the 
amount of knowledge this line of reasoning supplies, rest in the 
mere fact of the existence of a God, and believe that such an 
amount of knowledge constitutes a sufficient religion, and re* 
lieves them by its classical simplicity from the ridiculous, or at 
least needlesa enthusiasm with which revelation encumbers the 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



104 Theology of Revelation and ffeathenitm. [October, 

sul^ect. How numerous are those who take it for g;ranted that 
the Qod of the Bible is the very same as the different beings or 
supposed beings worshipped in every tribe aod nation, ancient 
or modem, " Jehovah, Jove, or Lord ;" and that therefore every 
individual is perfectly free to enlarge or restrict his ideas con- 
cerning him. Hence the sum total of religion, if candidly pro- 
fessed by countless multitudes bearing the name of Christian, 
would be fonnd to be a belief in a solitary article, to wit, the 
existence of a Creator perfectly separated from every peculiarity 
of the revelation of Scripture. The peculiarities of God's 
Word may not be positively denied, but they are so virtually 
although tacitly, because they have left no perceptible impres- 
sion on the mind. The generality of men appear either ignorant 
of or indifferent to the peculiar doctrines of revelation, and 
seem perfectly content with the simple belief in one great 
Supreme of whom, except his extensive power, they desire to 
know little more. To such characters the minute examination 
of Scriptural delineation appears but the plodding of tiresome 
enthusiasm, or the trifling of an useless scholarship. How 
difierent is the sentiment of the individual whose mind is 
able and desirous to realize the truths which lie within the 
compass of God's great revelation to man ! Fully aware that 
here alone certainty in respect to spiritual things can be ob- 
tained, his mind dwells with delight upon these glorious develop- 
ments of thought which cannot deceive, provided they are 
simply based upon the declarations of the Lord's testimony. 
The mind once awakened to the certain truth of Holy Scripture, 
the intelligent recipient finds that the general truths possess an 
innate capabihty of amplitude, which becomes familiar by con- 
stant and regular application ; and that, like the character of 
their great originator, they possess an infinity of progress along 
the series of which the mind may progress for ever. 

The world has advanced in every branch of science and lite- 
rature ; it has grown old in every refinement of criticism ; and 
yet the revelations of God's Word have not only remained un- 
scathed though all the fiery trials to which they have been ex- 
posed, but their depth and sublimity have shewn themselves the 
more plainly unfathomable by the deepest researches of the 
human race. That such discoveries should be found amongst a 
people so little likely, not only to find them out, but even to 
comprehend them, as far as regards their unassisted intellect, 
appears to be one of the most irrefragable proofs of their divine 
origin. This is so well expressed by Neander, in his Church 
History, that we quote the passage with great pleasure. 

" Id the midBt of the nations addicted to the deification of nature in 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Theology (if Revelation and Beatheniim. 105 

the form either of Polytheism or of PaDtheUm, we see a people among 
whom the itiith in one Almightj Ood, the absolutely free Creator and 
Governor of the world, waa propagated not ae an eaoteric doctrine of the 
priests, hut aa a common posseBsioD for all, as the central animating prin- 
ciple of a whole people and state. And necessarily connected with the 
faith in an AU-holy God was the recognition of a holy law as the rule of 
life, a conviction of the opposition between holiness and sin — a conscious- 
ness which the testhetic position of the old religion of Nature (though 
single gleams of it occasionally flashed out) was unable to evolve with the 
same stiengtb, clearness and constancy. This difference between the 
Hebrew people and other nations is of itself sufficient to refute every 
attempt which may be made to ascribe a simitar origin to the Jewish as to 
the other national religions. It is a fact that bears witness to the reve- 
lation of a living God to whom the religion owed both its existence and 
its progressive development, as well as to that peculiar course of discipline 
whereby the Jews were trained to be the instruments by which this reve- 
lation was to be preserved and propagated. A Philo might with good 
reason say of this people, that to them was intrusted the office of being 
prophets for all mankind ; for it was their destination, as distinct irom the 
nations sunk in the worship of nature, to bear witness to the living God. 
The revelations and providences vouchsafed to them were designed for the 
whole human race, overwfaicb, from the foundations here laid, the kingdom 
of God was in time to be extended." 

The distiDguished place thus allotted the children of Israel 
issojuBt that no valid objection can be raised to it; whilst 
to the intelligent observer such a representation accounts for 
and illustrates the very necessity of what, perhaps, has appeared 
perplexing to some minds ; we mean the minute particulars of 
this people's history, in which Ood continnally shewed himself 
a living Being interested in even the most trifling circumstance 
which involved their interests ; in strong contrast with the mys- 
terious, inanimate, listlees anima mundi, the ghastly dream 
of a vain philosophy, which, like a gigantic sponge, absorbed the 
apirita of its votaries, and finally remained the only conscions 
being in the universe. It will be readily admitted that such 
views of the Deity, however they may affect the mind with 
wonder and dread, can have no power to rouse the affections. 
And this may be generally predicated of all the Pagan religions. 
In regard to many of their deities, the passions were engaged 
in their worship, but the affections which needed to be purified 
by moral inspiration were totally unadected. The gods, 
when they were not mere lovers of pleasure, were considered 
rather in the light of proud governors who were to be feared 
more than loved, to be propitiated not to injure rather than to 
be sought as benevolent and holy protectors. Hence in none of 
these heathen gods are found characteristics of such condescead- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



106 Theology of Revdation and Heathenam. [October, 

io^ sympathy as to fiirauh a name indicative of them from tbe 
very depths, so to speak, of their peculiar dialects. But this the 
living and trae Ood does in regard of the Jews. 

To understand this in its fall import, we must dwell upon a 
usage common amongst the primitive race of Israel, and very 
probably amongst the snrrounding tribes which seem to have dis- 
appeared gradually through the adverse inflaencea upon pro- 
gress from within and without. We allude to the prerogatives 
and duties which devolved upon every bead of an extensive 
iamily or dan, who was recognized as the refuge of all his 
followers in every case of emergency. We are acquainted with 
no exactly similar relationship in the course of known history. 
The aristocratic and democratic developments probably destroyed 
all such distinctions of relatiouship in the Greek cities, and we 
cannot trace it with any certainty. There is, indeed, in one of 
the plays of Terence, which are confessedly more or less trans- 
lations from Greek comedians, a slight allusion to a custom 
somewhat similar, but nothing decisive can be established ^m 
such random allusion. Tbe Bomans being an agricultural peo- 
ple, ret^ned Aeir primitive customs far more tenaciously than 
their more gifted neighbours ; and iu their connexion between 
patron and client we possess a few distinct remains of the 
Hebrew prototype ; although these appearances alto wax dull as 
time advances. The clans and septs of the Celtic races seem 
still more vivid representations of this profoundly ancient bond 
of union ; but the privileges and rights of the Hebrew kinsman 
were defined and guarded with a solicitude which not only esta- 
blished custom but religious feeling enforced. The duties of 
the superior Goel, or redeeming kinsman, were, in fact, to take 
care of his inferior kinsman in relation to all their well-being, 
so that all evil might as far as possible be warded o£F from 
them. 

As was naturally to be expected, the principal parts of this 
protecting duty are specified in accordance with the state and 
customs of the Jewish nation. Firstly, the Goel had the pri- 
vilege of redeeming back the property of his kinsman. Secondly, 
he was to redeem his kinsman from slavery and bondage ; and 
as this very important ofiice was not pecnUar to any nation or 
period of history, we find in every language a word aignificant 
of this benevolent office of the Jewish chief kinsman. Thus, 
Atn-pom}'! in Greek, Bedemptor in Latin, and Redeemer in 
English, exactly expresses this remarkable feature of character, 
without any allusion to any other oifice indnded in the term 
Goiil. Thirdly, another very peculiar daty involved in this re- 
lationship was avenging tbe blood of a murdered kinsman; 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] TTteoloffy of Revelation and Heathenism. 107 

whilst oSifsa there was appended to his first duty, mentioned 
above, a requisition which appears to ns very singular; we refer 
to the circumstance of marrying the widow of the deceased, in 
order that his name might be preserved in iBTsel. To tribes 
amongst which no such custom can be traced, its necessity will 
appear highly doubtful ; but where a closer connexion was hereby 
established with the great expected Redeemer, the matter was, to 
individuals of such a race, an olnject of no ordinary consequence. 
The book of Ruth is important principally from its full delinea- 
tion of thw historical characteriatic. The word employed is a 
leading one, chosen by God himself in the development of his 
character in reference to his own church throughout the whole 
of the Old Testament ; and the term Goel, translated Kedeemer, 
will be readily recognized by even the desultory reader of the 
Old Testament Scriptures as one of the most irequent occur- 
rence, and on every occasion indicative of the most peculiar 
blessings bestowed oy the Deity upon his own people. It is 
very remarkable that in the first verse erf the Bible in which this 
word occora in conjunction with the name of the Lord, it ex- 
presses the entire circle of blessings which it is possible for a 
finite being to receive. In Gen. xlviii, 16, Jacob, io blessing 
the sons of Joseph, invoked upon them the protection of the 
Being who had aGDKEHED him prom all evil. In analyzing 
tbis prayer it will be found to contain all the main doctrines of 
the Gospel as displayed in the superintendence of the triune 
Deity, The distinct attributes of God the Father and the divine 
Spirit are mentioned in the fifteenth verse, while in the sixteenth 
verse the divine person who peculiarly bears the name and cha- 
racter of Redeemer in both dispensations is clearly pointed out ; 
— " The angel who redeemed me from all evil ;" — for by the 
grammatical construction the word Angel being placed in appo- 
sion with God, in the preceding verse, proves the identity of 
being with the distinction of office. 

As an inference from the foregoing reascming, we may re- 
mark how contemptible in comparison is the idea of a God as 
conceived in the brains of many modem philosophers. A 
maudlin conception compounded of the Indian and Epicurean 
indifferentism, modified by the caricatured principle of Christian 
mercy ! Such views of God, when compared with God'a own 
revelation of his character, appear like the sickly phantoms of 
the imagination, set side by side with the glowii^ realities of 
physical existence. 

That the restricted or temporal character of the Jewish 
kinsman, or Goel, was representative or typical of the spiritual 
relationship under the same name claimed by Jehovah, cannot 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



108 Theology fif Revelation and Heathenism. [October, 

possibly be denied by diligent readers of the Scriptures, who 
compare the didereot passages wherein the terms occar. Bat 
in the transference of the developed idea in the New Testament, 
the strict analogy is by no means so apparent. The accurate 
delineation of the primitive idea even among the Jews them- 
selves had waxed very faint, and, as before remarked, few if any 
traces are to be discovered in the civilized states around, whose 
vocabularies supplied no words exactly similar in signification. 
However, hnman societies of every kind are perpetually in- 
fluenced by kindred feelings, no matter how modified by inter- 
communication, commerce, climate and other causes, and there- 
fore we have what may be called the cognate ideas as developed 
from the universal language of at least European civilization. 
We select one passage as a specimen (Col. i. & — 32). " For 
this cause we also, since the day we heard it, do not cease to 
pray for you, and to desire that ye might be filled with the 
knowledge of His will in all wisdom and spiritual understand- 
ing ; that ye might walk worthy of the Lord onto all pleasing, 
being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the know- 
ledge of God; strengthened with all might according to his 
glorious power unto ail patience and long-snfTering with joyful- 
ness. Giving thanks unto the Father, which has made us meet 
to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light." The 
kingdom of Christ is here contrasted in all its illimitable extent 
with the contracted and worldly type, namely, the inheritances 
of the children of Israel in the land of Canaan. The children 
or saints of light are literally as the stars of the firmament in 
comparison with the little nation which for ages represented 
them ; hut still the greater race is just as definitely distin- 
guished as the less, and the portion of each individual as firmly 
secured. The spiritual head of the one was Jehovah the Be- 
deemer; the head of the other Christ the Saviour, styled in this 
very context, the " head of the body, the Church ;" that vast 
congregation which acknowledges no race, no nation, or empire, 
and no quarter of our globe as comprehending its kindred, but is 
a formation &om the whole human race, and redeemed out of 
every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation (ELev. v. 9). 
They are constituted members c^ an empire not of this world, 
but saved, that is, separated from it. Their directing head is a 
Saviour whose very appellation brings home to the hearts of the 
weakest and most ignorant amongst them the most glorious of 
his characteristics, which eflectually influences their destinies 
throughout all eternity, and establishes them a peculiar genera- 
tion amid the whole of God's rational creation. The conscious- 
ness of a present salvation ; of a head who now as well as at 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] 7%eohgy of Revelation and HeaikenUm. 109 

any future opportunity is absolutely at each present moment a 
Hedeemer, a Protector, in a word an omnipresent Saviour, with 
whom a constant iutercourae not only can but must be kept up 
through the medium of his written Word, which henceforward 
becomes the fuel of an undying faith, and modifies erery feeling 
of existence. The true principles of present and final existence 
are manifested to the understanding, and numerous mysteries 
vi ignorance, scepticism, and heedlessness vanish iu " the light of 
the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ " 
(2 Cor. iv. 6). The ever watchful providence of the "angel 
who redeems from all evil " is recognized more exactly by the 
irrefragible evidence of experience, and a confidence is thence 
attained which the crush of worlds could not shake. And this 
confidence is insured and ratified by a provision which no other 
reli^on could satisfactorily supply. We refer to the certain re- 
mission of sins upon grounds sufficient to convince the recipient 
that God can consistently with his justice receive Mm into full 
favour, and yet at the same time, so far from sin appearing on 
this account of less consequence, its intrinsic vileness becomea 
more painfully apparent to the enlightened conscience j and 
while the penalty ia annihilated, the very means employed pro- 
duce the greatest abhorrence of the sin. The Bedeemer having 
taken the aina of his kindred upon himself, the safety of every 
such individual ia completely ensured by his subatitution, and 
all the gifts of salvation are the ofi'spring of such interference ; 
and thus the dependence upon him for the bounties of grace, 
is parallel to the dependence upon general Providence for the 
blessings of temporal existence. By this means the grandest 
moral truth in respect to Christ's people is exhibited ; hereby is 
displayed, in the moat remarkable manner, how the great Saviour 
of the New Testament develops in its most extensive as well as 
its most glorious manifestations the character of " Jehovab the 
Redeemer." The identification of the two charactera is thus 
based upon no commonplace argument; for the Redeemer of 
the New Testament is the antitype of the Redeemer of the Old 
Testament. Every veil that tended to shroud the spirituality of 
salvation ia laid aside, and "life and immortality" are exhibited 
in all their magnificence to God's rational creation. 

C. 



by Google 



{ no } [October, 



SLAVEKT COimXXHSl) BY SACKED USTi PBOVAm W2nXB& 

I. Testimont op thb Nbw Testament. 
At the very hour in the world's history when slavery had reached 
its highest point, and began to threaten freedom with permanent 
subjugatioQ; when heatheniam had proved itself to possess no 
charm to break the spell, and philosophy rather apologized for ser- 
vitude than proclaimed and defended liberty ; in that the darkest 
hour of earth — when " the Lord looked down from heaven upon 
the children of men, to see if there were any that did understand 
and seek God " — and lo t when every man with his brother man 
were " all gone aside " (Ps. xiv. 2, 3), there was bom in a remote 
and despised eomer of the Soman empire a child who, filled 
with the wisdom, power and grace of God, was to promulge and 
disseminate principles of spiritual truth which should revolu- 
tionize socie^, break every bond, and make freedom of mind 
and freedom of body universal. It is no mere outward emauci- 
pation that Jesus the only true B«deemer comes to bestow. 
Victories on the field of battle are not his aim ; political changes 
he disregards ; social convulsions he threatens as a punishment 
rather than seeks to achieve as a blessing. Established social 
relations he leaves in essentially the same condition as he found 
them ; the master still a master, the slave still a slave ; the Jew 
worshipping in the temple j the tyranny of the Herods weigh- 
ing like a mountain on the heart of Judea, and the Soman pro- 
curator adding scorn and contempt to his oppression of the sons 
of Abraham. The forms of society he passes slightly over, not 
because they are unimportant, but because they are sure to change 
when the causes which produce them change ; and because be 
intends to go down into the very depths of things, and originate 
those primordial influences which renew and reconstruct the 
entire frame of human life. " The redemption that is in 
Christ Jesus" (Rom. xiv. 4) is social only so ikr as it is indivi- 
dual, and it is certainly social because primarily it is individual. 
It redeems all by redeeming each ; and it redeems each by 
removing and destroying the causes and occasions of bondage. 
Bestowing spiritual freedom, it secures personal freedom; and 
he that is free of himself is free of the universe. It lifts men 
out of the bondage of a world of sense into the liberty of the 
sons of God ; where they stand in new and lofty relations as to 
their Creator, so to one another. With a mother's love and a 
nurse's care, it takes each man in the ceaseless successions of in- 
dividuals and generations, and seeks by the cultivation of his 
highest faculties to make him all that man can be in this state. 



.byCOOl^lc 



1859.] Slavery condemned by Sacred and Prqfane Writert. Ill 

in order to prepare him for the full meastires of eternal good 
which it haa in reserve for him in the vorld to come. 

If, then, you wish to know with what aspect the Gospel 
looks upon slavery you have only to ask whether slavery is con- 
ducive to the fundamental aims of the Gospel. Yes, ChristiaDity 
approves of slavery, if slavery promote the objects of Christianity . 
Does slavery destroy the fear of man ? Does slavery throw the 
slave exclusively on God? Does slavery develop the intellect, 
form and elevate the conscience, purify the affections, enlarge 
the heart, abate the power of sin, foster holiness, and tend to 
make the man of God " perfect, thoroughly fiimished into all 
good works?" (3 Tim. xiv. 17). If so, then slavery is compatible 
with Christianity, is sanctioned by Christianity ; then Christ came 
to approve and to perpetuate slavery; and he that promotes 
slavery promotes the cause of Christ. But what if slavery pro- 
duces the reverse of these effects? What if it dwarfs the intel- 
lect, crushes or perverts conscience, sullies the affections, narrowa 
the heart, augments and multipli^ the power of sin, destroys 
holiness, estabUshes the empire of the senses, makes the fear of 
man the great motive (^ action, and substitutes man-worship in 
place of the worship of God ? What if it inflicts these curses on 
slaves and slave-masters ? What if the degradation it either 
does not cure or actually produces is one of the chief pleas put 
forward for its justification? What if essentially, radically, 
permanently and immeasurably it is anti-Christian in its fruits ? 
Then is it anti-Christian also in its principles. And then is it 
hostile equally to the purposes of Christ and to the will of God. 
Let it he carefully observed that in this issue there is no medium 
position for Christianity to hold. Jesus either condemns or 
approves slavery. Indifference to so grave a subject is incon- 
ceivable on the part of Christ. If he does not sanction, he re- 
probates slavery; if he does not reprobate slavery, he sanctions 
it. Does Jesus sanction slavery? What is this but to ask 
whether he sanctions the privation of human rights and the in- 
ffiction of untold wrongs ? or to leave generalities in which 
sophisms so often lurk, look at the man-stealer there in one of 
the rank vales of Africa; he creeps on a village by night; he 
captures and enchains men, women and children ; does Jesus 
sanction the foray ? The man-stealer sells his captive to the 
slave-merchant — does Jesus sanction the bargain P The slave- 
merchant drives his herds of human beings, chained, weeping 
and waihng, way-worn, hungry, thirsty and faint, to the sea- 
shore, where they are crowded into the smallest possible spaces, 
and consigned to foulness and suffering which bring speedy 
death to many : does Jesus sanction this full aeries of barbarous 



.byCOOl^lC 



112 Slavery Condemned by ' [October, 

deeds? The slave -merchant lands the stirvivors, conveys them 
to the slave- market, ahats them up in pens like sheep, oxen, 
pigs ; feeds them to restore their strength, then pots them up to 
auction, describes their qualities, enlarges on their favourable 
points, allows their muscles to be tried, their teeth to be in- 
spected like a horse under a dealer's hand, and at last after a 
tissue of exaggerations and falsehoods, knocks down each in 
turn to the highest bidder ; does Jesus sanction the contract P 
It is a young girl ; she is taken away, subjected to her owner's 
lasciviousness and lust; she becomes a mother; her child is 
sold away from her; she is yoked with a male, a fellow- 
slave, and again becomes a mother ; this time he who is &lsely 
called her husband is sold ; she grieves, falls sick, and is whipped 
for failing to work ; she takes another husband, and in the very 
midst of her pregnancy she is transferred to another master, 
and sent to a distant estate ; there she becomes reckless, indif- 
ferent to life, indifferent to persons, indifferent to actions, and 
sinks first to the level of the brute, and then sinks below the 
brute, until rank in vice and worn down in energy, she dies 
early an object of contempt ; does Jesus sanction this result ? or 
the way in which the result has come ? Imagine that holy and 
loving One standing by at each of the scenes which have been 
depicted — what are his emotions ? He weeps more sorely than 
he wept at the tomb of Lazarus. 

Why, what is his own condition ? He is, you acknowledge, 
"the power of God and the wisdom of God" (1 Cor. i. 24). 
Wisdom and power are sublime realities; surely if they dwell 
among men, it is in regal or imperial pomp, at least they are 
clad in the dignified garb of philosophy. No ; the Saviour of the 
world stands before men as a member of a poor Jewish family ; 
he is familiarly known as " the carpenter's son," and labours 
for his daily bread. He goes forth to his public ministry with 
no display, with no glittering retinne; he begins to teach and to 
preach, but it is by the way-side, on the mountain-brow, on the 
brink of the river or the lake, under the cottage-roof; and as he 
teaches he draws down on himself the wrath of the great ones of 
the land, who conspire for his destruction ; at length he is ap- 
prehended as a criminal, flogged as a slave, and finally made to 
undergo a slave's death, being crucified between two malefactors. 
And yet is he the Saviour of the world. Yes, "great is the 
mystery of godliness" (1 Tim. iii. 16}. Being in the form of 
Ood, Jesus took upon himself the form of a slave, that at the 
name of Jesus every knee shonld bow (Philip, ii. 7). Bow to a 

; Theodor., 



1859.] Sacred and Profane Writers. 118 

slave? Then must that slave have lofty attributes. That slave 
is the Son of Crod. Jesus descended to the depths of society in 
order to raise the lowest to sit with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob 
in the kingdom of Ood. A sufferer himself, he came aud miais- 
tered to the suffering. He appeared as a alave for the redemp- 
tiou of his fellow-slaves. Say not that the redemption is exclu- 
sively spiritual J it is spiritual indeed, but because spiritual, it 
is also matericd and social. The Gospel works for heaven 
through earth. Immortal life is our earthly life full-grown. 
He that is free in mind caunot long be a slave in body. He that 
is a citizen of the heavenly Jerusalem will not endure the chains 
of any earthly bondage. 

And this is one of those great emancipating doctrines which 
he who was at once a dave and " Lord of all " (Acts x. 36) 
taught in the days of his humiliation. Among his auditors 
were some who committed the grave but common error of iden- 
tifying freedom with distinguished lineage or national independ- 
ence. " We," said they, " be Abraham's seed, and were never 
in bondage to any man : how sayest thou. Ye shall be made 
free ?" Jesus answered them, " Verily, verily, I say ucto you, 
whosoever committeth sin is the slave of sin. The truth shall 
make men free j if the Son make men free, then are they free 
indeed" (John viii. 32 seq.]. There is no fireedom but freedom 
of Boul, and freedom of soul bestows and guarantees freedom of 
every other kind. If " the mind is the master of the man," 
then the man is free whose mind is free. When Jesus delivers 
the soul from bondage, he gives liberty to the captive, for the 
body is but the instrument and the servant of the mind, and 
obeys and must obey the mind's behests, as the muscles execute 
the commands of the will. Look up, then, ye that are held in 
bondage by your fellow-men ; look up and hope for the day of 
your redemption, since the Son of the most High God and the 
Saviour of the world has descended to your own condition, not 
only to minister solace, but to shew that there is no depth to 
which a Father's love of his children will not go down, and no 
humiliation to which bis Son's benignity will not submit ; and 
no darkness of evil which Father and Son are not willing and 
able to remedy, and no degradation out of which they will not 
effect a rescue. No, you are not abandoned of God as well as 
contemned of the world ; he that was emphatically " despised 
and rejected of men " (Is. liii. 3) chose the form that you wear 
for the express purpose of breaking your chains. Like the 
mighty power of the volcano, the Gospel acta from the lowest 
parts by the elevation of which it elevates all. 

The efficacy of the Gospel as a great redeeming power on 

VOL. X. — NO. SIX. I 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



114 Slavery Condemned by [October, 

earth, is illustrated in those words of prophecy which the 
Messiah borrowed and applied to himself in the synagogue of 
Nazareth, when he read, " The Spirit of Jehovah is upon me : 
inaamnch as he hath anointed me to pubhsh glad tidings to the 
poor ; he hath sent me to declare deliverance to the captives, 
and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those that 
are oppressed ; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord " 
(Luke iv. 18, compare Is. Ixi. 1) . " To proclaim the acceptable 
year of the Lord/'— yes, Christianity is the great year of universal 
jubilee. As under the law the year of jubilee brought freedom 
to every Hebrew slave, so under the Gospel the year of j ubilee 
brings freedom to every slave of every tribe, kindred, and nation. 
The same view of the object of Christ's mission is found in 
his own description of it when he declares, "The Son of Man 
is come to seek and to save the lost" (Luke xix. 10), How 
pre-eminently this was the Saviour's purpose, let the parables of 
the loat piece of money,, of the lost sheep, and of the prodigal 
son (Luke sv.) declare; thought-clusters of inimitable beauty, 
of unapproached pathos, a practical sympathy with which would 
alone suffice to abolish davery. And how truly, how fully, how 
sublimely those words became living realities, in that grandest 
of all living realities, the life of Christ, let his joumeyings, 
his perils, his toils, bis groans and his agonies declare. Jesus 
going about doing good (Acts s. 38), to seek and to save the lost, 
oSers the suhlimest picture of practical benevolence, the very 
thought of which should make slavery blush. The lost? Yes. 
Your slaves are very low ; ignorant, selfish, groas, and disobe- 
dient are they for the most part ; such have they been made by 
the bondage in which you have held them. But, then, thereby 
are they qualified for the redemption of the Christian jubilee ; 
these are they whom Jesus came to seek and to save : " the whole 
need not a physician, but they that are sick" (Matt. ix. 12). Yoa 
are a follower of Christ ? then, like Christ, go, seek and save those 
who are lost in the very society in which you dwell. " They 
are an inferior race?" not the less have they a claim on your 
justice and benevolence. Again, " Looking unto Jesus " (Heb. 
sii. 2), you will find the needtiil lesson. At the time of the 
advent the Jews were held in universal disregard. Yet, God 
selected the despised Judea for the birth-place of the Saviour, 
who accordingly was born under the law expressly to redeem 
them that were under the law (Gal. iv, 5) : God having 
"chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, 
and the weak things of the earth to confound the things which 
are mighty ; and base things of the world, and things which are 
despised, yea, and things which are not, to bring to naught 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Sacred and Profane Writers. 115 

things that are ; that no flesh should glory in his presence " 
{1 Cor. ii. Sr— 29). And faithful to his lowly origin on earth, 
the Son of God ever manifested regard and practical com- 
passion for despised races and outcast individnals. Whom haa 
be set forth and left as a perpetual model of pitying succour 
aod neighbourly help? Him whom Christian reverence has 
designated "The Good Samaritan." Which of the ten lepera 
healed by him as, going to Jerusalem, he passed through the 
midst of Samaria and Galilee, which of those ten has he im- 
mortalized by setting him forth as the only one that gave glory 
to God? A Samaritan. Yet did there subsist between the 
Jews, his conntiymen, and the Samaritans, a national feud of 
the deadliest nature. But Jesus stood above those vulgar pre- 
j udices of which national antipathies are born, and knowing that 
all men are children of God, felt for all the same love, but was 
most prompt to pity and aid those who were most in want. 
How truly divine such benevolence ; how speedily would its 
prevalence put an end to slavery, and make earth a happy path- 
way to heaven. Indeed, there is one principle of Christ's, the 
observation of which would of itself exterminate slavery : " All 
things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye 
even so to them" (Matt.vii, 12). "Be ye therefore merciful, as 
your Father is merciful. Give and it shall be given you; good 
measure, pushed down, and shaken together and running over, 
shall men give into your bosom ; for with the same measure that 
ye mete withal, it shall be measured to you again " (Luke vi. 
31 geq.). 

Slave owner, who callest thyself Christian, in imagination 
exchange condition with thy slave. What thinkest thou of 
slavery now ? Is it a Christian institution ? What ! that sub- 
jection to another's will? that pandering to another's lust? 
that endurance of the lash? that sunderance horn thy wife, 
thy child, thy parent? When in consultation with his minis- 
ters. Napoleon Bonaparte, then First Consul of France, had 
been advised by all to employ force in order to put down 
Toussaint I'Ouverture and restore slavery in Saint Domingo, 
he asked Gregory, Bishop of Blois, who was emphatically the 
black man's friend, what he thought on the matter before the 
council, and of the opinions that had been uttered. " I think," 
he replied, " that the hearing of such speeches suffices to shew 
that they are spoken by white men ; if these gentlemen were 
this moment to change colour, they would talk differently."* 



D<?i,r..cb,.COO^^IC 



116 Slavery Condemned by [October, 

The law of Christian love is enforced by the law of providential 
reciprocity ; " it shall be measured to you again." Refuse to do 
aa you would be done by, and you will have to endure what you 
have not scmiiled to inflict. And so it is ; the slave-master is 
himself a slave — a slave to a slave-making system, a slave to his 
slaves; a slave to his own ungovemed will, a slave to his own 
passions ; a slave to his own fears. Every tyrant is a slave. 

So thoroughly is Christianity in spirit and act opposed to 
slavery, that you must reverse at once its chief blessings and its 
worst curses before you can make it compatible with slavery. 
Thus spake Jesus, " Blessed be ye poor ; blessed are ye that 
hunger now ; blessed are ye that weep now ; blessed are ye 
when man shall hate yon, and when they shall separate you 
from their company, and shall reproach you, and cast out your 
name as evil. But woe unto you that are rich ; woe unto you 
that are full; woe unto you when all men shall speak well of 
you; woe unto you scribes, Pharisees, hypocites, for ye bind 
heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's 
shonlders, but ye yourselves will not move them with one of 
your fingers; woe unto you, scribes, Pharisees, hypocrites, for 
ye devour widows' houses ; and for a pretence make long 
prayers" (Matt, xxiii,). Thus spake Jesus : slavery contradicts 
every word he uttered ; taiing his blessings to itself, and be- 
stowing its curses on its victims. So antagonistic are slavery 
and Christianity that the two cannot subsist together ; a vital 
Christianity must destroy slavery ; rampant slavery must de- 
stroy a vital Chritianity. Nothing exists, nothing can be con- 
ceived more unlike and more mutually contradictory than the 
spirit of the Gospel and the spirit of slavery. What virtue is 
more truly evangelical than " a meek and quiet spirit, which is 
in the sight of God of great price? " {1 Pet, iii. 4). He who 
said, " Blessed are the meek " (Matt. v. 5), gave the command 
" Neither be ye called master, for one is your Master, even 
Christ ; but he that is greatest among you shall be your servant. 
And whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased ; and he that 
shall humble himself shall be exalted" (Matt, xxiii. 10 seq.). 
And the same holy Being declared of himself, " I am among you 
as he that serveth " (Luke xxii. 27), " Whosoever will be chief 
among you, let him be your slave" (Matt. xx. 27). And Christ 
himself a slave in actual service 1 Then rank and condition are 
reversed. The slave is taken up near the host, the master is sent 
lower down, A new rule is introduced. Not by the outer condi- 
tion, but by the heart does God judge. The last, therefore, is first, 
the first last (Matt. sis. 30). Such reversals are in the order of 
Divine Providence as administered by the Messiah. The con- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Sacred and Profane Writerg. 117 

tiDaed progress of the C^ospel is the continued realization of those 
reversals. Its final triumph will be the triumph of those qualities 
nnd that condition which slavery shuns, and hates, and proscribes. 
Such are some of the facts and principles of the Christian 
rehgiou which bear on the question of slavery. These facts and 
these principles have their origin iu Christ. Jesus, like Moses, 
found slavery in existence. The two regarding it as a soci^ 
observance, l^islated thereon very differently, according in 
each case to the spirit of the age, and the object to be 
achieved. Moses aimed at little more than mitigating an evil 
wliich he was compelled to tolerate. Jesus sought to remove an 
evil which was olwtructive and subversive of the good he came 
to bestow; but, like a wise reformer, Jesus aimed rather to 
uproot than to cast down ; rather to replace than subvert. With 
this view he expounded principles whose prevalence would make 
slavery impossible, and he set in motion charities and sympathies 
which would substitute brotherly iove for the lust of power, and 
the service of cupidity. With aims of the utmost possible ex- 
tent and comprehension, he contented himself in his sojourn on 
earth with pablishing doctrines and originating influences which 
left the existing forms of society untouched. He took lees interest 
in the present, because he sought for more in the future, than any 
mere social, or legislative, or political reformer. His primary 
task was to sow the seed of the Word, well assured that in due 
time he should reap the harvest. He neither left existing insti- 
tutions as he found them, nor did he attempt to cast them down, 
but took the middle course of introducing his great remedial 
and restorative doctrines into the domain of morals and cha- 
racter, whence in time they could not fail to pass into the social 
trame with the creative and renewing energy of their own Divine 
life. Working from the centre to the circumference, and from 
the individual to society, he implanted truths and inspired aspi- 
rations which throw off slavery as they throw off sin, and which 
will no more endure bondage of any kind, than the warm and 
kindling breath of spring wUl tolerate and bear the frosty hands 
of winter. The. process may be slow, it may be too tardy for 
human impatience ; but it is God's way, and therefore it is the 
readiest way. In moral as in physical recourses, haste makes 
waste. The greatest delays come from premature efforts ; the 
fruit that is plucked before it is ripe perishes. 

That Jesus consciously and deliberately took this view of the 
aims and tendencies of his efforts, is made very clear by one or 
two of his exquisite apologues. Thus he taught : " So is the 
kingdom of God as if a man should cast seed into the ground, 
and should sleep and rise night and day ; and the seed should 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



118 Sltwery Condemned by [October, 

spring and grow up, he knoweth not how ; for the earth bringeth 
forth fruit of itself, first the blade, then the ear, thea the full 
corn iu the ear ; hut, when the grain is put forth, he straight- 
way putteth in the sickle, because the harvest-time is come" 
(Mark iv. 36). "Another parable put he forth unto them, say- 
ing. The kingdom of hesven is like to a grain of mustard seed, 
which a man took and sowed in his field ; which is, indeed, the 
least of all seeds, but when it is grown it is the greatest among 
herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and 
lodge in the branches thereof. Another parable spake he unto 
them : The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven which a 
woman took and hid in three measures of meal, until the whole 
was leavened" (Matt. xiii. 31 — S3). 

The coarse of ministration poisued by Jeans was faithfully 
continued by his apostles, only in some slight degree modified by 
the fact that they came more closely into contact, and remained 
longer side by side with the institutions and observances of the 
day. Moreover, within the space of their lives, the Gospel 
already began to produce fruit, and to exert an infiuence on the 
outer forms of social life. The apostles therefore had to deal 
with slavery in actual presence. How did they regard and how 
did they treat it? Of course, they applied to slavery, as to every 
other social good or ill, the great powers and resources of the 
Gospel. In so doing they repeated and reproduced the doctrines 
and positions of their Master which bore on the relations, and the 
wants of individual and social life. Thus Paul, who summed 
up the self-sacrificing spirit of his Lord by declaring that the 
Kedeemer took the form of a slave, exhibits himself in the same 
lowly position, when he says, " For though I be free from all 
men, yet have I made myself a slave unto all that I might gain 
the more " (1 Cor. is, 19). 

Somewhat different, too, was the ministry of the apostles 
from that of him by whom they had been sent. They had to 
expound and to apply the truth which he announced ; they had 
to draw forth and present in principle, in duty, in admonition, 
the spiritual grandeur in which he Hved. Under the guidance of 
the Holy Spirit they had to administer the medicine which he 
gave, and to complete the salvation which he began. 

What then did " the Spirit of Christ which was in them " 
(1 Fet, i. 11) teach regarding human relations? Let Peter 
himself answer : " God hath shewed me that I should not call 
any man common or unclean" (Acts x. 38). No man common 
oruQclean? What, not the pagan? no; nor the Samaritan ? 
no; nor the African? no; no man common, no man unclean. 
That single word is the downfall of slavery. That word is God's 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] Sacred and Profane Wnters. 119 

Word ; that word is the Gospel ; and if God'a Word and the 
Gospel prevail, slavery must and will retire — retire until it is 
secD no more. From Peter, pass on to Paul, and hear what he 
annooncea to the self-eiated Athenians, " God hath made of one 
blood all nations of men to dwell on all the foce of the earth " 
(Acts zvii. 36). All men of one blood ? what the black and the 
white, with the intervening shades — all of one blood? Yes. Is 
there then no diversity ? None ; the skin is not the man ; the 
hue is only on the surface ; all men are of one blood, and all 
men are as to the workmanship the sons of Gx>d. What 
groaad then has slavery to rest on ? If the Bible may be be- 
lieved, the sable African is as mnch a man as the mddy Saxon 
and the fair GircassiaD. Skin prejudices are consequently un- 
christian, and unchristian is every institution which is based 
upon them. 

Xot less impartial, not less nuiveraal, is the redemption which 
God in Christ achieved for the world. The love of the Son re- 
sembling the love of the Father caused him " to taste death for 
every man" (Heb. ii. 9). Every man? What for the negro? 
undoubtedly do less than for "Abraham's children" or "the 
sons of Japhet." Hence comes another Gospel-principle wh:ch 
is utterly- destructive of slavery, " God is no respecter of per- 
sons" (Acts X. 34). And if God respecteth not the persons of 
men (2 Sam. xiv. 14), can disciples of Christ be guiltless if on 
the most glaring respect of persons, they lay the foundation 
stone of social life? Let another apostle answer, and that 
apostle the brother of the Lord, " If ye have respect to persons, 
ye commit sin, and are convicted of the Lord as transgressors " 
(James ii. 9). Go to now, ye that make the broadest distinction 
between the dark skin and the white skin ; ye that throw a great 
gulf between the dark skin and the white skin, so that the one 
cannot pass to the other, nor unite in brotherly communion; 
go to, and take heed lest the condemnation ye have incurred 
come like armed men upon you, and ye find "judgment without 
mercy." 

But, if all men are one in creation and one in redemption, 
then are all essentially and for ever one. As such were they re- 
garded by the apostle Paul ; who, regarding men and nations in 
the lofty position in which they stood in virtue of the Gospel, saw 
them as one in Christ, members in his body, and by him united 
with God. Thus regarded, all disciples and eventually all men 
part with every minor distinction to rise into the elevated rela- 
tion of BODS of God and joint-heirs with Christ. Earthly diver- 
sities pass into the excellent and super-abounding glory of 
spiritual souship, as the diverse hues of the prismatic beams 

D,g,l,.™b,;COOl^[C 



120 Slavery Condemned by [October, 

coalesce and blend into tbe pure radiance of the Ban on tbe 
moantain top. Thus is it that Faal employs his glowing elo- 
quence to describe the new spiritual relationships of the haman 
race, and so to disallow the dimlsive and narrowing distinctions, 
prejudices and partialities with which he found society infested. 
Naj, in imitation of the great Head of the church who cared 
most for those for whom the world cared least, the apostle 
labours to bring into honour tbe least honourable portions of 
the social frame. Thus be speaks : " By one spirit are we all 
baptized into one body, whether we be Jews or Gentiles, 
whether we be bond or free, and have been all made to drink 
into one spirit; for tbe body is not one member but many; if 
tbe foot shall say. Because I am not the hand, I am not of tbe 
body, is it therefore not of the body ? and if the ear shall say, 
Because I am not the eye, I am not of the body, is it therefore 
not of the body ? If the whole body were an eye, where were 
the hearing ? if the whole were hearing, where were the smell- 
ing ? But now God bath set the members every one of them 
in the body as it hath pleased him. And the eye cannot say 
unto the hand, I have no need of thee; nor, again, the head to 
the feet, I have no need of you ; nay, those members of the 
body, which seem to be tbe weaker, are more necessary; and 
upon those parts of the body which we think to be the less 
honourable, we bestow the more abundant honour ; and God 
bath tempered the body together, having given more abundant 
hoo6ur to that part which needed it, that there might be no 
division in tbe body, but that all the members might have the 
same care for one another ; so that if one member suffer, all the 
members suffer with It, or if one member be honoured, all tbe 
members rejoice with it ; now, ye are the body of Chj^st and 
members severally " {1 Cor. xii. 13, Beq) . Compare this pic- 
ture of a Christian community witii the reality of social life 
which slavery produces. What a contrast I how deep and 
broad the hues of those diverging and opposing lines. Let the 
dark coloured man be the less honourable. Then ought he to 
receive from his Christian brethren the more abundant honour. 
On the contrary, dishonour is heaped on dishonour. And the 
suffering, instecid of being shared by all, is thrown by the few on 
the many. The consequence is that the eye, the ear, the foot 
are divided one against the other ; the body of Christ is torn, 
tbe covenant of grace is trampled under foot, and Jesus is again 
betrayed by professed friends. 

It would be a grievous error to suppose that the grand and 
lofty principles enunciated by Paul in passages such as that 
which has just been cited (com. Gal. iii. 38), received from 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Sacred and Profane Writera. 121 

the apostle no immediate application to the wants and duties 
of actual life. On the contrary, with him general tnithe stand 
in closest proximity to the great personal and social interests 
of those whom be endeavonrs to instruct. Thus, in addres- 
sing the church at ColosBfe, where he has declared that in 
the new man of the Gospel, "there is neither Greek nor 
Jew, circamciaion nor uncircumciaion, barbarian, Scythian, 
bond nor firee, but Christ is all and in all," he forthwith 
adds, "Put on therefore, as the elect of God, holy and be- 
loved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meek- 
ness, long-suffering, forbearing one another and forgiving one 
another, even as Christ forgave you, and above all put on charity, 
which is the bond of perfectness ;" and with a special reference 
to slaves and slave-owners, he subjoins, " Servants, obey in all 
things your masters according to the flesh, not with eye service 
as men-pleasers, but in singleness of heart, fearing God ; and 
whatsoever ye do, do it heartily as to the Lord and not unto 
men, knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of 
the inheritance, for ye serve the Lord Christ ; but he that doeth 
wrong shall receive for the wrong he doeth, and there is no 
respect of persona. Masters, give unto your servants that 
which is just and equal, knowing that ye also have a Master in 
heaven" (Coloss, iii. 11 — iv. 1). These words do not contem- 
plate the immediate disruption of the bonds which held master 
imd slave together. Bather they aim at carrying the Christian 
temper and the Christian life into the then forms of society. 
Nevertheless, that temper and that life once predominant they 
would of necessity monid those forms into their own likeness. 
Let it be supposed that masters listening to the apostolic injunc- 
tion gave their slaves what was "just and equal," would they 
long continue an institution which is the embodiment of injus- 
tice? Just? what is there just in slavery? Is it just that a 
brother should hold a brother in bondage ? should enforce sub- 
mission to his own will ? Equal? where is equality ? Between 
the master and slave, where is equality ? Yet equality is the 
exact term which the apostle employs. To Bixaiov teal Ti}v ttroTtira. 
Equality ? — suppose a slave-owner, having become a Christian, 
had that thought in his heart, could he retain his brother in 
bondage? It only required that the soul should appropriate the 
elements of the new life which was in Christ Jesus, in order to 
put away slavery as the very opposite of that which was "just 
and equal." 

And what would be the necessary and inevitable effect of 
the apostolic teaching on the minds of the slaves ? The apos- 
tolic teaching could not fail to call forth in the minds of slaves 

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122 Siaoery Condemned by [October, 

ft state of feeling with which their state of serritude conld not 
long co-esist. When the apostle Paul wrote to the church at 
Corinth, " Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty " {2 
Cor. iii. 17), he proclaimed to them a general principle which 
would niake the slave abhor his chains and long for their removal. 
Iq the mind of the slave-bolder, too, it might excite a doubt 
whether or not he possessed the spirit of Christian liberty, see- 
ing that he acted in conformity with the spirit of bondage. 
That qnestiouB of the kind did arise in the Corinthian church we 
know. Tbose questions were submitted to the apostle to the 
Gentiles {1 Cor. vii. 1). What was his answer? "Let every 
man abide in the same calUng wherein he was csUed" (1 Cor. 
vii. 20). Did the reply esclude the obtainment of freedom? 
By no means j freedom was to be accepted if it coold be had. 
" Art thou called, being a slave, care not for it, bat tf thou 
mayeet be made free, use it (freedom) rather" (ver. 21), The 
apostle in effect says, " Your earthly relations are of small 
moment, in comparison with your heaveuly relations ; therefore 
let not the former be au object of solicitude with you; seek 
rather to recommend and adorn the doctrine of Christ by faith- 
ful and obedient service ; yet, freedom is a blessing which may 
not be disregarded, and which I advise you to make your own, 
if you have the opportunity." There is no sanction of slavery 
here. On the contrary, slavery is represented as an evil to be 
endured for the sake of a higher good, namely, the service which 
in the endurance might be rendered to " the everlasting Gospel." 
" But slavery is not condemned." At least, it is disallowed 
when it is represented as a state of endurance, and when the 
preference is given to freedom. And both slavery and freedom in 
the apostle's mind retire into the background before the grand 
thought of man's relations to God and Christ. On that thought 
the apostolic exhortations are all grounded : " For he that is 
called in the Lord, being a slave, is the Lord's fi«edman; like- 
wise also he that is called, being free, is Christ's slave. Ye are 
bought with a price ; be ye not the servants of men" (ver.22,23). 
Both masters and slaves, in becoming Christians, have entered 
on wholly new relations, aud relations so high, so important as 
to cause every other relation to sink and be lost from view. 
The slave is free in Christ; the master is Christ's slave; the 
former has risen to freedom, the latter has entered into servi- 
tude ; both have undei^one changes which make their present 
condition inconsiderable, and which will conduce equally to their 
highest advantage ; for he whom the Son makes free, is free in- 
deed, and the service of the Lord is perfect freedom. Yet even 
here, when the apostle makes light ctf these earthly relations, 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Sacred and Profane Writers. 123 

mai^ how he shews favour to the disqualified slave, when he in- 
timates that while the Iree master becomes a slave, the slave 
whom he holds becomes a freeman. 

It is more important, however, to remark that with prind- 
plea such as these prevalent in a state of slavery, that state 
could not long endure. Here is a new power which upturns 
society from its very foundations, converting the master into a 
slave, and the slave into a freeman. The mere idea of such a 
reversal would disturb existing earthly relations. The slave 
wonld be filled with a sense of his spiritual dignity, and that 
sense would swell and expand his bosom until it burst his bodily 
chains. And the Christian master finding himself indirectly 
reproved by the apostle, and feeling his conscience rebuke him 
as one who held Ms brethren in bonds, wonld gnidQKUy come to 
be ashamed of possessing property in human beings, and be in 
time prepared to allow them to follow Paul's advice, and enjoy 
their liberty. The rather would he feel inclined to such a 
course, because in the new light he had received from the Qospel 
he had become aware that he could no longer consider his slaves 
his own, since they were " bought with a price," and were 
another's, belonging to the master whom they in common 
served, and to whose service they were both under the most 
solemn obligations to consecrate body, mind and spirit (Bom. 
xii. 1 ; 1 Cor. vi. 20). Very express is the apostle's precept, 
" What ! know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy 
Ghoat, which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not 
your own ? For ye are bought vrith a price, therefore glorify 
God in your body and in your spirit, which are God's." If 
body and spirit are God's, then are they not man's, and if not 
man's, then slave-masters have no right to their slaves. And if 
slaves as Christians are obliged to gloriiy God in their body, 
then are they equally obliged to disown and annul every relation 
which defiles the body, or robs the body of its divinely-given 
rights. But slavery takes from the body its most precious right, 
and slavery changes the body into a tool, and sometimes makes 
it an instrument of the vilest pleasures and the grossest vices. 
Slavery therefore is anti-Christian, for he that is a slave and he 
that is a slave-master are thereby prevented from glorifying 
God in their body as well as their spirit, which are both his. 

That the acceptance of the apostolic teachings was subver- 
sive of slavery may be safely inferred from language which 
Paul employs in his letter to the Galatians (iii. 26 ; iv. 7), where 
after m^ing these revolutionary annonncemeats : " Ye are all 
the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus; there is neither 
Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither 



...CbyCOOl^lC 



124 Slavery Condemned by [October, 

male nor female, for ye are all one in Christ Jesna," he adds, 
"And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the spirit of his 
Son into your hearts, crying Abba, Father ; wherefore thou art 
no more a slave but a son ; and if a sou, then an heir of God 
through Christ." Now, how could slavery long exist, at least 
between members of the Christian Church ? If they were liv- 
ing members of Christ's glorious body, its permanence was im- 
possible. The very foundations of the edifice of slavery bad 
been struck away, — -The right of property ? The slave and the 
slave-master alike belonged to Christ. The pretexts of inequa- 
lity? The slave and the slave- master were of one blood, had 
one father^ knelt at the same seat of grace, were redeemed 
by the same Saviour, sojourned toward the same heaven, being 
both sons of God, joint heirs with Christ, brethren and fellow- 
workers in the same Gospel, given and surrendered as a free-will 
offering to the Lord, in body as well as in mind and spirit, to do 
those things and those things only which were well pleasing in 
God's sight, and promotive of the Gospel of his grace. And 
when the slave ruminated on the apostle's words, " no more a 
servant but a son," and at the same time felt " the iron enter 
his Bonl," was not the day of his redemption nigh ? With such a 
form of words in his mind, he would not fail to folIowPaul's injunc- 
tion, and use the first opportunity for procuring his freedom. 

The unavoidable tendency and necessary result of these dis- 
organizing and reconstructive principles, are exemplified in fact 
as found in the short letter addressed by Paul to Philemon, and 
sent to him by the hands of Onesimas. Onesimus, Philemon's 
slave, had fled from his master. Being converted by Paul in 
Rome, he was by the apostle induced to return to Philemon. Tn 
sending him back to Philemon, Paul, sent him back not as a 
servant, but a brother beloved, requesting Philemon to receive 
Onesimus as he would receive him, Paul, himself; "having con- 
fidence in thy obedience I have written unto thee, knowing that 
thou wilt also do more than I say;" and desirous of giving 
Philemon the opportunity of conferring liberty on Onesimus as 
an act of grace, and a free-will benefit, intimating at the same 
time that he might have enjoined on Philemon the manumission 
of Onesimus. 

In these simple and unvarnished facts it is clear to see that 
Paul recognized in the slave-holder no absolute right of property 
in hia staves ; that with him it was a principle that the higher 
relations of Christianity dissolved the lower relations of slavery, 
and consequently that in the apostle's mind slavery was only a 
temporary and provisional condition. Beyond a question is it 
that Paul spoke only of the hour at which he wrote, when he 



1859.] Sacred and Profane IVriterg. 125 

bade all remain in the condition in which they had become 
ChiistianB. The very fact that his opinion on the point had 
been asked, shews how the new light from heaven agitated and 
brightened the dark atmosphere of earth. " All men brothers? 
Then how can any be slaves ?" Questions such aa these were 
put on every aide. " The point is of less importance than you 
suppose," answered Paul, "for the time is short*' {1 Cor. vii. 39). 
What time was short ? Was it that the time of slavery was 
short ? was it that the time of the life of individuals was short ? 
Was it that the time of the world's duration was short? The 
last view has the sanction of very learned divines, and appears 
to be most consistent with the general tenor of the apostle's 
observations. Paul, it is said, believed the end of the world 
near, and so disregarded the prevalent forms of social life which 
were soon to vanish. Without making our ailment depend 
on this view, we are fully justified in declaring that it was only 
for a short period that the apostle spoke and legislated. Not 
only was the existence of slavery questioned, but the propriety 
of circumcision, and the propriety of marriage as well. The 
general answer given was. Let alt remain as to outer condition as 
they are. " Is any man called being circumcised ? let him not 
become uncircumcised. Is any man called in uncircumcision ? 
let him not be circumcised " (ver. 18). " Art thou bound unto a 
wife? seek not to be loosed. Art thou loosed from a wife? seek 
not a wife. But this I say, brethren, the time is short; it re- 
maineth that both they that have wives be aa though they had 
none j and they that weep, as though they wept not ; and they 
that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not ; and they that buy, as 
though they bought not; and they that use this world, as 
though they used it not, for the fashion of this world passeth 
away; and I would have you without anxiety" (ver, 27 — 32) . Cir- 
cumcision is nothing, marriage is nothing, slavery is nothing, 
about which your minds should be distracted, for the time is 
short, and the present state of social life passeth away ; " the 
Lord is at hand," "new heavens and a new earth" are near; 
" the kingdom of Qod " is about to open with all its glorious 
principles, and all its resplendent light, and all its unutterable 
peace and joy ; " be ye therefore ready," for in " the new Jerusa- 
lem "„" they marry not, nor are given in marriage," and slave 
and slave-master are known no more." Such appears to be the 
view under which the apostle wrote. Say that his view involved 
the dissolution of the material and social condition then subsist- 
ing, consequently his view involved the dissolution of slavery; 
say that his view involved the renovated world, which the Gos- 
pel in its prevalence was in course of time to produce ; still his 
view involved the dissolution of slavery. The apostle apoke not , 

Cookie 



126 Slavery Condemned by [October, 

for all time, but for tbe momeat actually before him, wheu not 
without reluctaDce and with qualification, he submitted to 
tolerate slaveiy. In truth alarery like circumcision had beea 
placed by the Gospel in a new light and in an altered position. 
Under the iniluence of erai^elical principles, both, the apostle 
knew, were destined speedily to perish ; and for the individuals 
then circumcised or enslaved, it would be better, &r better, that 
they should work out their own salvation than disturb their 
minds and waste their energies in premature and nugatory 
efforts for change. Already has circumciaion almost wholly 
passed away. Slavery is foUowiug circumcision. The power of 
the Gospel is too strong for the power of slavery. The gracious 
designs of the one Heavenly Father have firom the earliest stages 
of society been going inti) fiilfilment, withstood though they 
have ever been by the sinful and depraved will of man. In pro- 
portion as those designs have been accomplished, slavery has 
been both diminished and mitigated. With the advent of Christ 
a new and mighty reinforcement was given to " the armies 
of the living God;" and from then until now, " the glorious 
liberty of the sons of God " has been making inroads on slavery, 
and promises ere very long to extirpate slavery and every other 
plant not planted by the Heavenly Father's hand. 



II. Testimony of Peopane Wuitees. 
The moment superior minds began to reflect and speculate 
on society, its origin, reasons, its actual condition, its tendencies, 
that moment slavery arrested attention, and occasioned profound 
meditation. The eye of sages, of philosophers, of poets, is on 
slavery, and we may now expect a just appreciation of its cha- 
racter. Greece and Rome produced geniuses in the world of 
thought that long held mankind bound to their words in admir- 
ing and reverent homage. What have those distingnished in- 
tellects to teach as respecting slavery ? They are the first minds 
of heathenism. They have hnman hearts in their bosoms. What 
then do they say of slavery? They see the evil ; it is on their 
right hand and on their left ; they find it in their homes, and 
when they go abroad they everywhere meet it in their way. 
What judgment do they pronounce thereon? What principles 
touching the evil do they enunciate ? In the poets we find a 
few scattered thoughts adverse to slavery ; as — 

" Even in slaverj the Divine Spirit inspires the soul."' — .^ch^lut, 
" If the body ia enslaved, the mind is free."" — Sophoelei. 

' MeVei TO SeUf SovXi^ vapov <ppavi. — Agam. 1054. 
" EU o0f/4i iovKov, aXK' o votK e\ev0epos^^j^. SioD. 



1859.] Sacred and Profane IVriten. 127 

" Many bUtcb bave a diBgraceful name, 

But their mind is freer than that of free men."'' — Euripides. 
" Slaveiy in the spirit of a free man is not alaTery."' — Menander. 
" A slave has the aame flesh as other men. 

By nature no one is bom a slave ; 

It is fortune that enslaves the body."-' 
" I am a man, and nothing beloD^g to man do I consider foreign 
to me."' — Teraux, 

B7 these and similar thoughts — their entire number is small 
— some service was rendered to humanity. That service, how- 
ever, so far as it reached slavery, was to no small extent coun- 
teracted by the degrading position which in their pages and on 
the stage slaves were made to hold. Ridicule and contempt 
were stronger than a few humane generalities. Nor indeed was 
even poetry likely to express anti-slavery sympathies, for the 
general mind nnconscioiisly and blindly received slavery as a 
feet, and regarded it as a necessit;. With the bulk of society 
the idea of its being wrong never occurred. Did men debate 
whether the river ought to Qawf As little did slavery come in 
any way into questioD. Or if in some superior mind the putting 
away of slavery was for a moment entertained, it was only as a 
specimen of practical absurdity. Thus Crates, a writer of 
comedy, intending to throw ridicule on the social reformers of 
his day propounds a constitution in which there shall be no slaves. 
" What then," asks one of his speakers, " shall the old man 
do ? he will be obliged to wait on himself." " 0, not at all," is 
the answer, " I will make every object move without being 
touched. You will only have to call the table, and the table 
will come of its own accord."* The highest and best philosophy 
indeed r^arded slavery as a necessity. As such was it regarded 
even by Plato," whose tendency to the ideal gave to his moral 
and social philosophy a loftier and wider bearing than was cus- 
tomary. In his speculations Plato seems to have been averse to 
slaveiT, so far as his Greek fellow-countrymen were concerned, 
for other men, mere barbarians in his view, lay beyond the reach 
of his charities ; bnt finding slavery as a feet, and finding social 

' rioXXoiVi imiXoa -rovvo/t aiirj(poii' ^ H ^Pp^" 
TSiv ovyl iovKuv ear' i\eu0ipwtepa. — Ap. Sio6, 

' 'EXsvde/Nus hovXeve, &ov\oi nvK Haet. — Tr. 279. 

J Kav £<nf\o^ ^ TH aapica rnv avrftv ^X^'' 
<pvaet fap oirBt'iv iovKov er/tvir^dt] b-ote, 
'H £' nv Tijjfij TO iriu^o i<ntSov\iiiaaro. — Phil. Frag. 

t Homo «am, hDmaoi oihil a me alienam pnto. 

' Atben. ^. 267. ' R«p. ii. 368. 



by Google 



128 Slavery Condemned hy [October, 

good interiroTen with slaveiy, he acquiesces therein though 
aware of the evils and perils with which the iustitution was 
fraught. These are his words : " The subject of slaves is in 
every respect embarrassing. The reasons alleged in its support 
are good in one view, bad in another, for they at once prove the 
utihty and the danger of slavery. If there is some difficulty in 
justi^ing or condemning slavery, as it is estabhshed among 
other nations of Greece, fliat difficulty is incompaxably greater 
in regard to the Helots of Sparta. When one looks at what 
takes place there and in other places, one knows not what to lay 
down touching the poasesaion of slaves. There is no one who 
denies that it is necessary to have faithful and loving slaves j 
and many slaves have shewn more devotedness than brothers 
and sons. On the other hand it is said, that a soul enslaved is 
capable of nothing good, and that a sensible man would never 
trust such an one. This is what is said by the wisest of poets: — 
" Jupiter deprives of half their intelligence those who fall into slavery." 

" Men treat their slaves difierently according as they hold this 
sentiment or that. Some in no way trusting their slaves, treat 
them as wild beasts, and make their souls a hundred times more 
slave-like. Others pursne a totally opposite course. Man is an 
animal difBcult to manage. Hence the possession of slaves is 
very embarrassing. The fact is exemplified in the frequent 
revolts of the Messeoians, the brigandism of Italy, and the evils 
that prevail in states where there are many slaves speaking the 
same tongue. With thesie disorders before the eyes, one 
naturally hesitates as to what view to take. I see only two 
courses, the first is to avoid having slaves of one and the same 
nation, but so far as may he, such as speak different tongues, 
that they may the more easily bear their yoke ; the second is to 
treat them well not only on their own account, but still more 
for your own interests,"-' 

Plato, you thus see, viewed slavery not in regard to the 
rights of the slave, but in regard to the safety and the welfare 
of the masters. The question with him was not how slaves 
should cease to be slaves, but how the security of society shoold 
be brought into accord with the retention of slavery. In his 
view there is no comprehensive humanity, but only a narrow 
patriotism; equally is it destitute of disinterested charities. 
Neither divine nor human love breathes there, bat instead a 
gross and narrow utilitarianism has exclusive sway. Still more 
illiberal are the views held by Aristotle,* the man of intellect, as 



D,g,l,..cbyGOO^^IC 



1859.] Sacred and Profane Writers. 129 

Plato was the man of imagiaation of the old Greek life. Aris- 
totle regarded slavery as both natural and necessary; it was 
natural, for some men are bom slaves as much as others are 
bom pbitosophers, legislators and poets ; it was necessary, since 
only where slaves performed the drudgery of life could free men 
possess the leisure requisite for the cultivation of themselves and 
the improvement of their condition. Slaves then were made 
for free men as much as free men were made for themselves. A 
slave was the complement of the free man, who without a slave 
would no more be what he ought to be than if he were without 
one of his hands or both his eyes. The slave is the freeman's 
body, the neeessaiy accompaniment of that mind which makes 
him free, and gives him the rights of a master over matter. 
Nay, the slave has no existence as a man except in union with a 
master, just as a body without a mind is as good as dead. Thus 
was the slave delivered over to his owner bound hand and foot 
by philosophy. A few expressions employed by Aristotle are 
all that can be here added. " The slave is a living piece of pro- 
perty, and the first of tools." "Nature has created certain 
beings to command and others to obey. She has resolved that 
a being endowed with forethought should rule as a master, and 
that the being capable of bodily labour should serve as a ^ve ; 
and in this way the interests of the master and those of the 
slave mingle together." "The free man commands his wife 
and his children, but they are human beings ; the free man 
commands the slave quite in another way, for the slave is abso- 
lutely destitute of will," " Some are naturally free, others are 
naturally slaves; for the latter, slavery is no less useful than 
just." " War is in some sort a natural means of acquiring 
slaves, since it comprises that hunting-down which is practised 
on savage animals, and dn men who, born to obey, refuse 
submission." 

Thus the slave-trade as well as slavery is justified by the 
solemn decision of the philosophical oracle of ancient Greece. 
The views expounded by Plato and Aristotle found Roman ei- 
positors in Varro and Cicero. In Italy, therefore, at the advent 
of Christ the slave was regarded either as a necessary evil or a 
natural instrument. Both doctrines ministered obediently to 
the self-indulgences and Sybarite luiuriousness by which it was 
welcomed, and on whose emasculating bosom lay those who 
were called tlie free men and the masters of the world. One 
stern voice was heard in the midst of those syren incantations. 
Stoicism bade man rise out of the slough of the senses ; "Those," 
it said, " and those only are free who are free of themselves — 
who by self-abnegation rise superior to the empire of matter, 

VOL. X. — NO. XIX. K 

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130 Slavery Condemned by [October, 

Despise and deny the world, thereby yoa become free, whatever 
your condition, be yon a rich man or a poor man, a master or a 
slave. Contempt of the pleasures of life levels all distinctions, 
and makes slave and slave-owner alike free." Untrue and un- 
sound as is this philosophy, it did something to abate empty 
pride and to raise lowly worth. But stoicism has its weak side 
and there it may enter into union with the grossest epicurean- 
ism, for if the body and bodily pleasures are so vile, their indul- 
gence may be regarded by the mind as a matter of indifference 
equally with their non -indulge nee ; nay, the true supremacy 
of the mind may be best exerted and displayed by maintaining 
its independence and dignity in the midst of corporeal delights. 
Voluptuousness then is the way of virtue ; but society ener- 
vated by pleasure breeds the slavery which it requires and de- 
mands. Ancient philosophy then gave no ground of hope that 
slavery might in time be abolished. Athens and Rome were alike 
deaf to the voice of humanity. Earth heard the cry of its wretched 
children with a heart of stone. Was heaven equally obdurate ? 
Has revelation no word of comfort? The West is dark, but in 
the East shines the star of Bethlehem. A new view of human 
relations is brought down from the bosom of God, where it had 
its origin. As being divine, it is not only correct and true, but 
large, comprehensive, laving, like the Spirit whence it sprang. 
It is a Father's word to his children, and consequently it is no 
less impartial than benign. What does it declare ? The earth 
ia inhabited by one family, and all outward distinctions are un- 
real and temporary. In mind as in blood all are one who wear 
the human form. And as all are one by nature, so emphati- 
cally are all one in Christ; who raises their natural unity into a 
unity which as being spiritual is not only essential but everlast- 
ing. As, then, all in " body, soul and spirit " are one, so are all 
equal; consequently artificial and compelled inequalities are 
an ti- Christian, and equally anti-Christian is every condition, 
whether social or individual, which obstructs or retards the 
actual accomplishment of that at-one-ment which God has de- 
vised in Christ, and which contemplates the union with the uni- 
versal Spirit of Ood, of the spirits of all men, of all ranks, hues, 
climes and ages. Such was the word that was preached by the 
Son of God; a great word truly, a word the significance of 
which we do but dimly even see yet. Scarcely was the seed 
cast into the ground but it began to germinate, and ere long it 
bore fruit. As was natural, the first operation of Christiamty 
on slavery was in the bosom of the Church, Here the slave 
received as a brother soon grew into a man. If he proved to 
possess the requiate gifts, be became a candidate for the Chris- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Sacred and Profane Writers. 131 

tian ministry, and on being set at liberty, was ordained to tJie 
office. Eligibility to such a post abated the diaesteem in whicb 
slaves were commonly held, while it encouraged and promoted 
manumiEsion. Masters who had "like precious faith" with 
their slaves, would first experience the liberalizing tendencies of 
the Gospel, and when in pursuance of those tendencies, they 
gave treedom to one or more of their slaves, they set an example 
which heathen proprietors could not wholly disregard. The 
chain which held men in slavery was broken when it lost its 
first link. Scarcely had the Christian Church taken a firm 
position in the world when it applied its power to the mitigation 
of slavery among its members. This important work it wrought 
by the inculcation and enforcemeut of a spirit not only of justice, 
bat also of humane oonsideration and practical benevolence. It 
wrought the work, too, by effectually procuring a diminution of 
labour. By express injunctions the church limited toil to five 
days in the week, requiring the seventh and the first day for 
religions instruction and the worship of God, The whole of 
Easter-week, moreover, it caused to be kept as a religious 
holiday. Thus slaves on becoming Christians gained for the 
high daties of self-improvement nearly one-third of their time. 
What a boon ! How important a step toward the general relief 
of the working classes.' 

A yet more valuable boon was conferred by the primi- 
tive church so far as its influence extended. Those of its 
members who held slaves it taught the essential equality 
of all men, and enjoined on them the duty of treating 
their slaves well on the grouud that social distinctions had 
no value in the sight of Gtod, who judged men not accord- 
ing to their position or colour, but according to their cha- 
racter. In virtue of these teachings the slave ceased to be a 
thing, a mere chattel, a tool ; and the slave-owner ceased to be 
a mere owner. Accordingly that eminent Christian father, 
Augustio, instructs masters to treat their slaves as their own 
children, in every way except the inheritance of property. 
" Do not," says another Christian father, the eloquent Chrys- 
ostom, " do not think that what is done ngainst slaves will be 
pardoned, as being done against slaves ; the laws of the world 
recognize the difierence of the two classes, bat the eqnal law of 
God disowns it, for God does good to all, and opens heaven to 
all without distinction." That great preacher went so far as 
to enjoin on master and slave alike mutual service ; " Let there," 
said he, " be an exchange of service and submission, and there 



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182 Slavery Condemned by [Octoberj 

will tbeu be oo more slavery ; let masters and slaves serve one 
another ; then, ind^endently of servitude and freedom, there nill 
be good service. The service of friendship is far better than the 
service of slavery." Nor were these raaxiraB unfruitful. With the 
grand model of Jesus before their eyes, masters and mistresses 
became servants of their servants; women of the noblest origin 
practised the virtues of humility and self-denial in ofiBces of the 
humblest service. Mention is made of Fabiola, of the ancient 
Roman family of Fabius, and of Paula, a descendant of the 
ScipioB, who mised with the poor and with slaves on a footing 
of equEiIity, in order to minister to their wants. In this lowly 
and loving miniatration the bishops took a fiill share of duty. 
It was, however, not possible for Christianity to produce in full 
its natural fruits in such a relatioa as that of slavery. What- 
ever the Gospel effected, slavery retained much of the evils which 
are inherent in its nature. Arbitrary power on one side, and com- 
plete sutgection on the other, produced a condition so unnatural 
and so perverting, and so depraving, as to nullify only too largely 
the beneficial workings of Christian principles and Christian 
examples. There were, however, connected with slavery certain 
things which Christianity could in no way tolerate, inasmuch as 
they were essentially sinful, and siu^ the only true slavery, was 
the dire foe of God and man. They were slaves who fought 
with each other in the gladiatorial combats. Against those 
brutal amusements, the Church never ceased to protest until it 
effected their entire cessation. Never was a faithful member of 
the Church seen in the circus, except as a martyr. The theatre 
was scarcely less impure and corrupting than the amphitheatre, 
and the amusements of the theatre were furnished chiefly by 
means of slaves. Its abuses, too, were severely reproved by Chris- 
tian preachers and writers, who did their utmost to keep profes- 
sors of the Gospel, whether slaves or freemen, at a distance from 
those foul contaminations. In thus contributing to put a stop 
to these demands for slaves, the Church not only set at liberty a 
number of persons, whose condition involved misery and degra- 
dation, but closed a channel of the vilest corruption, and so con- 
ferred on society a permanent benefit. A similar good was 
accomplished by it, so far as it succeeded in its efforts to reform 
and purify domestic manners and usages, which kept a crowd of 
slaves for purposes of idle display, or mere luxury, or guilty 
pleasures. Thus did Saint Chrysostom address his congregation 
on this point. "Why so many slaves? one master should be 
satisfied with one servant ; nay, one servant ought to be suffi- 
dent for two or three masters. If that appears hard to you, 
think of those who have no servant. God has created us capable 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Sacred and Profane fTHtera. 133 

of serving ourselvCB. Why, then, those swarma of slaves? You 
obtain them for show, not for charity. If you had slaves for 
charity you would teach them trades by which they could obtain 
8 subsistence, and then set them free." Yes 1 " set tbem free." 
Freedom was the aim of the church. It bore with slavery, 
and strove to abate its evils while it bore with it, as a provisional 
and temporary institution. At the same time it laboured to 

Srepare the public mind for its abolition. In this view of its 
uty, it encouraged and aided enfranchisement with all the re- 
sources it had at command. Here, too, faithful men and women 
set a good example to heathens and half ChristianB. We read 
of Hermes, a martyr, who in one day emancipated 250 slaves ; 
of Ovinius, also a martyr, who gave liberty to 5000; and of a 
young heiress, by name Melania, who set free her slaves to the 
number of 8000. Such acts of justice and beneficence became 
frequent and customary, especially on the part of ministers of 
the Gospel. And that these manumissions were made from 
Christian motives is clear from the forms employed on the occa- 
sion, for saints, martyrs, nobles, and, in time, princes emanci- 
pated their slaves — to use the words of Gregory the Great, " in 
obedience to the example of the Redeemer, who came to 
earth in order to restore men to their original liberty." Not 
only did Christian teachers recommend manumission, they also 
enjoined the formation of a fund out of which liberty might be 
purchased ; and while they opened their churches and monas- 
teries as an asylum for fugitive slaves, they interposed their 
good offices with masters, or even aided the injured slave in 
flight and concealment. While the Church was thus mitigating 
and diminishing slavery within its own limits, and in the usages 
of society, it was also acting powerfully in favour of human 
rights and human liberties by means of pagan philosophers and 
princes. The philosopher Seneca, a contemporary of the apostle 
Paul, caught the spirit of that noble herald of Gospel liberty, 
and gave utterance to thoughts on the subject which recall, if 
they do not reproduce, the liberal and emancipatory maxims of 
the New Testament. The Emperor Marcus Aurelius, and other 
philosophers, too, expound doctrines on the subject which are in- 
compatible with slavery, and which breathe the spirit of the 
Gospel whence they seem to have had their origin. And no 
sooner had Jesus and Paul published to the world their liberal- 
izing truths, than the Roman law, previously so severe, so hard, 
so relentless in regard to slavery, began to take a milder tone, 
and admit modifications in favour of slaves. When, however, 
Christians took their seat on the imperial throne, they, under 
the impulse of the religion they professed, adopted measures 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



134 Slavery Condemned by [October, 

which were eminently beneficial to slaves, and wrought power- 
fully to undermine slavery. The Church taught the equality of 
men ; the Christian emperors, halting far behind the Church, yet 
considered and treated the slave as a man ; and if some special 
laws regulated the slave's couditiou as a slave, in general the 
State did not greatly diatiug:uish the slave from the humbler 
classes of society. A spirit of justice obtained prevalence. 
" Who could eudure," asked the Emperor Constantine, " that 
children should be separated from their parents, brothers from 
their sisters, wives from their huabauds ?" The person of the 
slave was taken under the shield of the law ; the roaster who 
slew a slave was punished as guilty of homicide. Manumission 
was l^alized, and the Church which had preached deliverance 
to the captives, was formally acknowledged as one means for 
giving it effect. Special is the merit of the Emperor Justinian 
in the services he rendered to freedom. The promotion of 
liberty became the rule of his conduct; he closed against 
slavery the sources which it had in the law ; he facilitated 
emancipation ; and he invested freedmen with all the privileges 
of citizenship. 

These ameliorations in the slave law retained their effect and 
continued to increase under later sovereigns. The slave whose 
master, or whose master's wife or bod, became sponsor in baptism 
for him, obtained his liberty by the very act. Even the imperial 
treasury aided emancipation. If slaves fell to the State by con- 
fiscation, they were at once set at liberty, Tf a man died with- 
out a will and without direct heirs, his property was divided into 
three portions, one of which was assigned to Gud ; in that part 
his slaves were placed, who thus obtained their freedom. The 
Emperor Constantine Forphyrogenitus, iu giving reasons for this 
law, said, " It would be an outrage to God's holiness, to the wis- 
dom of the prince, and even to the human conscience, if we did 
not permit even death to break for slaves their yoke." If slaves 
formed the greater part, or even the whole of the property, they 
were all given to God, that is, were made free ; " for," continued 
the emperor, " we will not suppress slavery for some and main- 
tain it with all its rigours for others ; we resolve that all who 
have in common borne the weight of that chain so hard and so 
cruel, shall at the same time enjoy the liberation which our law 
grants them as their share of the heritage." But the greatest 
benefit remains to be mentioned; the concubinage of slavery 
was elevated into marriage; the benediction of the Church 
l^alized wedlock between slaves equally as between freemen ; 
nay, intermarriage between the two conditions, once forbidden 
under the severest penalties, come to have legal permission. At 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Sacred and Profane Writers. 135 

length, after improring the tenor of imperial legislatioD in be- 
half of slaves, and for the furtherance of freedom, and after 
struggling, not without aueceas, against the efforts made by the 
cupidity of individuals to counteract the laws and promote 
slavery, the Church crowned its services by a declaration which 
was the natural result of, and a suitable commentary on the 
teachings of Jesus and Paul, and which runs thus : — 

" Thou shalt not at ell possess slaves, neither for domestic 
Berrice nor for the labours of the field, for maD is made in the 
image of God.""* 

Golden sentence ! Let the Church in these days take up 
these words, and circnlato them everywhere, especially in those 
lands in which slavery still subsists. We thus see that the im- 
mediate effect produced by Christianity on slavery was its miti- 
gation and diminution. The Gospel in its workings, both within 
and without the Church, shewed itself hostile to slavery. The 
more it prevailed, whether in individuals, in society, or in 
legislation, the more destructive was it to slavery. At last, in 
one emphatic word, a divine word, if ever there was one, it 
forbade it — strictly forbade slavery altogether. Alas ! that the 
prohibition should at this late period need to be repeated. But 
in modern times a species of slavery, the worst possible, has 
been called into existence. The monster has received heavy 
hlows. But, nevertheless, he lives, and he lives in vigour. Has 
civilization then receded ? Is a republic in the nineteenth cen- 
tury less hberal, less humane, less Christian in regard to slaves 
than the despotism of the Eastern empire in its decline ? If 
such is its present character, such an anomaly cannot surely 
be permanent. No, the Lord will destroy this enemy of man 
with the breath of his mouth, and set master and slave alike free 
from the fearful and perilous bondage under which they suffer. 



by Google 



{ 136 ) [October, 

COBBESPONDENCE. 



EEMAKKS ON CERTAIN P4SSAGES IN ANCIENT ASSYRIAN 
AND MEDIAN HISTORY. 

Sib, — The researches of Sir Henry Rawljnaon into the lately diacovered 
Assyrian, Babylonian, Median, and Persian cuaeiform tablets, and those 
of Sir J. G. Wilkinson into the ancient hieroglyph ical records of the Egyp- 
tians, haTe led to the preparation and publication of a new English ver- 
sion of the great historical irork of Herodotus. A suitable accompani- 
ment of notes and appendices abundantly illustrate the history and geo- 
graphy, and contain the most important part of the historical and ethno- 
graphical iuforuation nhich has been obtained through recent cuneifono 
and hieroglyphicol inrestigation. At the same time we are bonnd to add 
to the names of Ranlinson and Wilkinson those of their able and success- 
ful fellow -labonrers, Hincks and Lepsius. To Dr. Hiocks especially, 
Assyrian decipherment, chronology, and history are deeply indebted. 

One of the periodicals of our transatlantic brethren. Tie Ameriean 
ChrUHan Ezaminer, contains an interesting notice of this valuable and 
important work, which has been judiciously republished in The Journal 
0/ Saered literature (July, 1859, p. 332), under the title of Augnan 
Hutmy. A tone of candour and good sense pervades the review ; and 
we are happy to find a writer of ability and judgment, who is free from 
feelings of enthusiasm and partizanship on the subject, while saying that 
" we should receive with caution all statements in the cuneiform tablets in 
which the vanity and arrogance of the kings whose acts are commemorated 
may have had part," yet at the same time adding that, in his judgment, 
" we may accept, without hesitation, the truth of these inscriptions in 
their mainfeaturet, especially when we consider to how large a degree they 
are corroborated by independent testimony." This is, we believe, the 
prevailing opinion of those who have paid the most attention to this im- 
portsnt and interesting topic. 

The subject of Assyrian and Chaldean history, as connected with the 
recent successful decipherment of various arrow-headed inscriptions, has 
been frequently and largely discussed in the pages of this Journal. And 
it is not without a certain degree of reluctance that we proceed to offer a 
few remarks in reference to some points in which we cannot fully agree 
with the American Reviewer, and upon which we have touched on a 
former occasion, in a paper which appeared during the editorship of the 
late lamented Dr. Kitto, On the Scythian Dominion in A*ia. We request 
the candid reader's indulgence, while we pursue the task which we have 
here proposed to ourselves. 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] Remarks on Atiyrian and Median Hittory. 137 

The Beviewer sappoaea Sennacherib to have sacceeded his father 
Sargon in the year B.C. 703, and not, as had been once commonly sup- 
posed, cir. 711 — 12, and that bjs reign lasted, not according to the 
usually received chronolt^, only seven, but rather according to the cunei- 
form tablets, about twenty-two years, as his sod and successor Esarhaddon 
ascended the throne of Babylon, and most likely also that of Nineveh, in 
B.C. 680. The latter reigned about twenty years. There are doubtless 
difficulties in attempting to reconcile this departure from the commonly 
received chronology with some of the regnal numerals in the Old Testa- 
ment. Bat if pB^nt and competent investigators of the arrow-headed 
inscriptions have deemed themselves compelled to come to the conclusion 
that Sennacherib did not begin to reign at Nineveh earlier than 702 B.C., 
we are bound to listen with respect and attention to their views and their 
a^^ments, submitting to them if they appear valid and unanswerable. 

It has always been accepted that it was during the time of Esarhad- 
don'a reign over Assyria, that Uanasseh, king of Judah, was carried cap- 
tive to Babylon. That these Icings were coDtemporaries, and not unac- 
quainted with each other, is proved from the cuneiform tablets which be- 
long to the reign of the illustrious son of Sennacherib, in which it is re- 
corded that workmen to assist in building his splendid palaces were fur- 
nished him by the princes of Syria, and Manasseh, king of Judah. 

We cannot well doubt that Manasseh, who returned from Babylon as 
one released from captivity by the favour and compassion of the sovereign 
of Nineveh, returned also to Jerusalem as a tributary vassal, acknowledg- , 
ing the king of Assyria as his suzerain or liege-lord. This had unques- 
tionably been the position of his grandfather Abas, who sought the as- 
sistance of Tiglatb-Pileser against Rezin and Pekah, the kings of Syria 
and Samaria, and also of his father Hezekiah, when he ascended the 
throne, though he soon " rebelled against the king of Assyria, and served 
him not." There is nothing, however, in the scriptural uarrative, which 
should lead us to suppose that either Manasseh, or his sou Amon, enter- 
tained the thought of throwing o£E the re-imposed Assyrian yoke, which, 
perhaps, in their case, may not have been a very harsh one. Indeed, from 
the day of the retnm of Manasseh to Jerusalem until about the eighteenth 
year of the reign of his grandson Josiah, there is nothing in the records 
of the Old Testament, from which we could draw any inferences with re- 
gard to the adverse or prosperous state of affairs at Nineveh, or of any 
connexion between Assyria and Judah. 

When, however, we read an account of Josiah's bold and uncompro- 
mising proceedings in the eighteenth year of his reign, we find it impos- 
sible to reconcile his actual condnct with his unquestionable duty as a 
loyal vassal to the kii^ of Nineveh, or with the idea that Assyria was 
still a veiy powerful empire, whose wide-mling monarch was able and 
willing to defend his remote province of Ssmaria, and effectually punish 
those who should presume to invade its borders, and desecrate and destroy 
its altars. 

Not later, perhaps, than 624 B.C., we find Josiah carrying into Sa- 
maria a religious reformation, as searching and unsparing as that which 
he had wrought about six years before in Jerusalem and Judah. He 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



138 Corretpondence. [October, 

began by polluting the altar at Bethel, where Jeroboam the soe of Nebat 
eatablished his first idolatrouB service, burning upon it the bones of dead 
men, and then destroying both " the altar, and the high place and the 
grove." As Bethel was almost on the eonfines of Jadah, this single act 
might perhaps have been regarded as not utterly beyond the possibility of 
pardon. The zealons Iting, however, did not stop here, but ventured to 
far greater lengths ; and we transcribe side by side the accounts, as seve- 
rally given by the sacred chroniolers, of the daring course which he 
pursued : — 

2 KiHgs niii. 19, 20. 2 Chr. roiv. 5, 7. 

" And all the houses also of the high " And he ( Josish) burnt the bonea of 

places that were in tie cities qf Smtaria, the priegti upon their altars, and clBinsed 

which the kinga of Israel bad made to Judsb sad Jerusalem. And (sa did he) 

provoke (the Lord) to anger, Josiah took in the ciliei nf Maruateh, and ^kraim, 

awa; , and did to them accordini to all and Simeon, even unto NaphtaS, with 

the acts that he had done in Bethel. And their maltoeks round about. And when 

he slew (sacrificed) all the priests of the he had broken down the altars and the 

high plaeet that were there upon the groves, and had beaten the graven images 

altars, and homed men's bones upon into powder, and cut down all the idols 

them, and retiuued to Jenisalem." ihrottghout all the land qf Itrael, be re- 
turned to Jerusalem." 

As to the desecration and destruction of the altar at Bethel, where 
Jeroboam had first by open idolatry provoked the Most High, we know 
that this was the subject of a special aod remarkable prediction. On the 
very first occasion of Jeroboam's standing by that altar to bum incense, 
"there came a man of God out of Judah by the word of the Lord unto 
Bethel, and (in the hearing of Jeroboam), he cried against the altar in the 
word of the Lord, and said, O altar, altar, thus saith the Lord ; Behold, 
a child shall be bom unto the house of David, Josiah by name ; and upon 
thee shall he offer the priests of the high places that burn incense upon 
thee, and men's bones shall be burnt upon thee." 

It is plain from 2 Kings isiii. 17, that those who accompanied Josiah 
in his expedition to put down idolatry at Bethel, ware familiar with the 
prophetic denunciation which had been uttered, nearly three centuries and 
a half before, in the presence of Jeroboam. Nor is there auy reason to 
suppose that it was not already wed known to Josiah, when, in the twelfth 
year of his reign, he manifested the sincerity and earnestness of his reli- 
gious zeal by resolutely purifying Jerusalem and Judah from all that was 
dishonourable to the law and service of his God. And that he did not 
then in the ardour and fervency of his religious feelings at once extend 
the work of desolation and destruction to Bethel, may perhaps be ascribed 
to that sound judgment which generally accompanies a deep and enlight- 
ened fear of the Lord. He would feel that it was his plain path of duty 
thoroughly to accomplish the work of a religious reformation in his own 
city and kingdom first, which had been deeply defiled by idolatry ; and 
that he was not of his own will and judgment presumptoously to fulfil a 
prophetic denunciation, however clearly expressed, but to wait reverently 
until the providence of God should shew that the appointed and suitable 
time of folfilment was at length come. 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1S59.3 Remarks on Assyrian and Median HUlory. 139 

Can we conceive any thing more calcnlated to provoke the violent and 
implacable nreth of an Assyrian despot, than the scornful saciilegioui 
OQtrages offered by a vassal Jewish king to the altars and high places of 
the Assyrian province of SamariaP Is it credible that Josiah would have 
ventured to act as he did, had he been living in the days of Pul or Tig- 
kth-Pileser, of Shalmaneaer or Sargon, of Sennacherib or Esarhaddon ? 
If he had ventured to do so, without the sanction of an express commaud 
from Qod addressed to himself, in addition to the prophetic menace ad- 
dressed to iTerohoam at Bethel, he would have merited the humiliation 
and punishment which his selfwilled and impetuous zeal would, in all 
human probability, have certainly brought down upon him. Eut when 
we see DO notice whatever taken by the sovereign of Nineveh, of what 
must have appeared to an Assyrian monarch the singularly disloyal as well 
ae insolently outrageous proceedings of a Jeirish vassal, whose grandfather 
bad owed personal liberty and restoration to his kingdom to the grace and 
compassion of a sovereign of Nineveh, although that offending vassal 
continued to reign twelve years after his work of altar- deseeration and 
desolation in Samaria, we cannot help coming to the conclusion that, from 
some unknown cause (that is, unknown so far as the scriptural records are 
concerned), Nineveh had already so far fallen away from her once proud 
imperial supremacy, that she was no longer in a condition to take cog- 
nizance of the state of affairs in the remote province of Samaria. And 
thus Josiah may reasonably be thought to have entered upon no task of 
peril to himself and his dominions when he undertook to defile and destroy 
the idolatrous altars of Samaria, nor to have been guilty of unprovoked 
rebellion against his Assyrian suzerain. 

If, however, in the present discuision, we set aside, for a moment, the 
religious element, and refrain from taking into consideration special divine 
prediction and interposition, we could scarecly deem Josiah altogether 
guiltless of rebellion against his liege-lord, unless Nineveh had not only 
lost, at the time in question, her hold upon Samaria, but had also no 
rational prospect of ever recovering what she had thus lost. Samaria had 
been in itself an insignificant portion of the vast Assyrian empire ; its 
importance was mainly derived from its position. It was the ontpost from 
which the Assyrian forces might best watch and threaten Egypt. And 
the very fact that the Jewish vassal Josiah escaped without chastisement 
or molestation, is no light presumptive evidence that, in his eighteenth 
year, Nineveh was no longer in a condition to menace a Pharaoh, or even 
to carry fire and sword into the territories of a rebellious king of Judah. 
It seems impossible to come to any other conclusion, after a careful perusal 
of the scriptural record of Josiah's anti-idolatrous transactions in Samaria, 
where he appears to have conducted himself as the bond _fide sovereign of 
the province, if we also bear in mind the perfect impunity which he ap- 
pears ever after to have enjoyed, so far as any efforts of the monarchs^of 
Nineveh are concerned, to punish him for what must have appeared to 
them his insolent and outrageous sacrilege. 

There is a possible and probable view of the question, which would 
go veiy far to clear the character of Josiah from all stain of rebellion 
against his liege-lord, and even prevent our charging him with taking a 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



140 Correspondence. [October, 

Belfiah and nngenerons adrantage of the temporary depresaion of Nineveli 
to reunite to the kingdom of Judah a province which had formerly be- 
longed to the house of David. We have already alluded to this view, 
which is, that in the eighteenth year of Josiah Nineveh had already lost 
oil hold on Samaria, and had no rational prospect of ever reinvering 
what had been thus lost ; in fact, that when the grandson of Manaaseh 
took upon himself to act as an independent king in Samaria, the land of 
Ephraim was virtually subject to no other earthly master, the sovereignty 
of Assyria having actnaUy passed into a mere name and shadow, without 
a prospect of ever becoming a reality again. 

Now there is good reason to believe, from the testimony of secnisr 
history, that not 1at«r than 630 B.C. Cyaiares, a warlike and ambitions 
king of Media, utterly defeated the king of Assyria, and compelled him 
to take refuge within the walls of Nineveh. The Medes proceeded to be- 
siege the ancient city, with a fair prospect of finally succeeding in making 
themselves masters of the Assyrian metropolis, and of overthrowing the 
Assyrian empire. Nor is it improbable tbat in this case the victors would 
have claimed for themseivea the imperial supremacy which Nineveh had 
previously possessed, and Cyaxares would have deemed himself entitled 
to number the ruler of Babylon in the list of his tributaries and depend- 
ents. While the siege, however, was in progress, a horde of Scythian 
barbarians suddenly appeared in the neighbourhood ; a fierce conflict en- 
sued, in which the Medes were routed, and Cyaiares found himself com- 
pelled to withdraw with his shattered forces into his own dominions. Por 
nearly twenty-eight years the victorious Scythians remained in the vicinity 
of the Euphrates and Tigris ; nor does it appear that either Medes, or 
Assyrians, or Babylonians, once ventured, during that period, to eacounter 
them in the field, and dispute their claim to roam at will in that part of 
Asia as in a conquered territory. And so far as we can gather from the 
venerable Father of history, before the close of the Scythian dominion the 
Medes had recovered Irom the effects of their defeat by the barbarians, 
Babylon had wholly thrown off all political subordination to the Assyrian 
monarch, and had become an independent kingdom, ready to assist in 
overturning the power which she had once served, while Nineveh had be- 
come weaker rather than stronger, and, ruled by a sovereign not peculiarly 
distinguished for militaij or political abiiitv, was nnabla to offer any 
effectual resistance to the combined forces of Media and Chaldea, under 
such superior leaders as Cyaxares and Nabopolassar. 

It would appear beyond question that, even when Cyazarea utterly 
routed the Assyrian army, and straightly besieged the vanquished monarch 
in his metropolis, all political connexion between Nineveh and her far- 
distant province of Samaria was in reality severed. And was it again re- 
newed when the Scythians routed the Medes, and raised the siege of the 
renowned Queen of the Tigris P Certainly not. The triumphant barba- 
rians were no friends to Nineveh, who had come to assist her in her dis- 
tress, and re-open to her sons the once well-known road to Syria and 
Palestine. The Scythians were prepared to keep down alike Assyriana, 
Medes, and Chaldeans ; and thus Nineveh found herself even farther than 
before from the hope, if she still retained it, of r^aining her lost supe- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Remarks on Assyrian and Median History. 141 

riority even over the comparatively neighbouring city and territoiy of 
Babylon. Nay, the latter power, having herself nothing to fear from the 
Medes, and aware that the mortal hostility of Cyaxares would prevent 
Assyria from regaining her lost supremacy, was doubtless intent upon 
seizing every advantage which might from time to time offer itself, in 
order to strengthen herself, and guard herself from again becoming a tri- 
butary dependency of the Assyrian Empire. Thus the rising dominion of 
Babylon was fast interposing itself between the waning greatness of 
Nineveh, and her remote provinces of Syria and Samaria. It would appear 
more certain every year, that kings of the declining Assyrian dynasty 
would never again rule Damascus and the land of Epbraim, and that these 
territories, having been of necessity abandoned by Nineveh from her own 
want of power to retain them, and being no longer in subjection to any 
earthly sovereign, would, probably, sooner or later, fall under the yoke of 
Babylon, unless the king of Judah should previously assert his own 
stronger claim. 

There appears to be reasonable grounds for supposing that something 
not unlike that which we have just been describing, was the state of affairs 
at Nineveh, Babylon, Bamascus and Samaria, about the eighteenth year 
of the reign of king Josiah. Samaria bad virtually, and, apparently, 
finally, ceased to be a province of the Assyrian empire. The same course 
of events which had separated Samaria from Nineveh, had put an effectual 
end to the feudal sovereigoty of the monarchs of Assyria over the kings 
of Judah. Joaiah cnuld only regard Nabopolassar as a revolted vassal of 
Assyria ; and if so, what possible title iu equity or justice could the re- 
bellious ruler of Babylon have to be lord of Samaria? And if utter and 
hopeless defeat and disaster, in inflicting which Josiah had taken no 
treacherous or disloyal part whatever, had cast the supremacy of Nineveh 
to the ground, and rendered the very idea of her sovereignty over Samaria 
and suzerainty over Judah ridiculous and absurd, to whom should Samaria 
now of right belong, if not to Josiah, the Uneal descendant and repre- 
sentative of David and Solomon, who had been kings of Ephraim as well 
as of Judah P The words of the divine denunciation addressed to Jero- 
boam had reference only to the altar of Bethel, which was almost on the 
confines of Judah. And when we read the history of Manasseh'a devout 
and zealous grandson, and see over what an extent of territory his daring 
and offensive religious aggressions were carried, nothing will so satisfac- 
torily explain what occurred, as the highly probable supposition that 
Josiah was well aware at the time that the swords, first of the Mcdes, and 
afterwards of the Scythians, had effectually cut asunder every tie which 
connected Jndah and Samaria with the rulers of the remote city of Nine- 
veh, and left them to act independently, without being guilty of acting 
rebelliously. 

The American Reviewer writes, " Nabopolassar, towards the close of 
his reign, carried on war with Egypt, appointing his sou Nebuchadnezzar 
as commander. This was the war in which Joaiah, king of Judah, with- 
out waiting for his sovereign, marched hastily to repel an invasion of 
Necho, and was defeated and killed." By the somewhat strange expres- 
sion, " Josiah, teithoui waiting for hi» aovere^,"- the Beviewer can only 



.byCOOl^lC 



143 Correspondence. [October, 

meRD that Josiah was the tribatary vassal of Nabopolassar, as Manasseh 
had been of Eaarhaddon. But where does he learn this? Surely not 
from the scriptural record. Was" Josiah the vassal of Babjlon when he 
BcomfuUy and indignantly desecrated and destroyed the idolatrous altars 
through the leagth and breadth of Samaria F And if not, when did he 
pass into the unpleasant position of the vassal of a revolted vassal of 
Assyria ? We should naturally infer from the sacred narrative that Josiah, 
from the eighteenth year of his reign to its close, felt himself to be, and 
acted as, tbe independent sovereign of Judah and Samaria. The dosing 
act of his life seems to confirm this. Pharaoh Necho, the able and power- 
ful king of Egypt, enters Samaria with a host so formidable that be ia 
confidently leading it to the vioinity of the Euphrates. Josiah does not 
scruple to encounter this mighty host in the open field, though he is de- 
feated and slain in the conSict. Was this the act of the vassal of a re- 
volted Assyrian vassal P or of an independent king who gloried in being 
the descendant and representative of the illustrious conqueror David P Is 
it unfair to think that if it had been Nebuchadnezzar marching against 
Egypt instead of Necho against Nabopolassw, Josiah would have opposed 

' We maf perhaps be excused if we attempt to discuss tbig point aomewhat more 
fully. We must not aigue aa if the Babyloa cJ Nabopolassar had haconia the invia- 
cible huperlal Babflan which she afterwards became under hia sou Nebuchadnezzar. 
Had the &ther been the mighty conqueror in 62b B.C., which the sob was when ha 
marched agiuoat Jerusalem cir. &90, and had reaoWed to force Josiah lo BubmisaioB, 
tbe latter would probably have been compdled to pay trihnte and homage, as Heze- 
kiah had fonnerly done to Sennacherib. But nothing tike this was the case ; and 
many yeara of freedom from foreign bosUlities must have made the kingdom of Judah 
well nigh a match for any force that Nabopolassar could have sent against it during 
the greater part of hia reign. 

Again, there would be in Josiah more thaa the strong ^slike to BabytoDian vai- 
aalage natural lo any high spirited young king whose earlier ancestors had been fbr 
Bome generations powerful and independent eovereigaa, strangers to, and despisera oi, 
a foreign yoke, evea if his father and grandfother had been compelled to acknowledge 
the Assyrian emperor as their li^-lord. As an intelUgent and sincerely deroot and 
pious Jew, who knew that the kiags of Judah were, in a more special and lofty sense 
than could be aadd of the proudest Gentile monarch, the earthly vicegerents of the 
Most High God, he would regard tributary subjection lo a heathen liege-lord as hsnog 
in it aomething religiunsly polluting, as well as penonally and politicaUy humiliating. 
A conscientious sense of duty, and unwilUngness to involve his subjects in a dangeions 
and desolating war, would most probably bate kept bim in hia allegiance to Nineveh, 
if the Assyrian monarch had triumphed over Scythiana and Medes, and retained their 
sapremacy, with real power to uphold and enforce it. But no tie of duty or gratitude 
hound Joeiah to accept the auccessful rebel Nahopolaaaar aa hia new suzerain. The 
Jews must bate been accustomed to look upon the Babylonians as the subjects, as 
well as Tassala, of Nineveh, and therefore far more under the Assyrian yoke than they 
had themselTea ever been. In fact Babylon, hke Samaria, had been a mere province, 
wliich from time to time received its governors from the will of the sovere^a of 
Nineveh ; while Judah, if tributary, had stiD possessed her own hereditary kings, and 
national laws and ua^^s. It does not, therefore, seem credible that Josiah, with 
the high and royal epirit of the deacendant and repreaeiitative of the warrior and con- 

Sneror David, and with all a zealous and ardent Jew's religions loatbing of Gentile 
ORiination, should, or rather could, have consented to stoop to become tbe vassal of 
Nabopolassar, himself a revolted vaaaal, unless the latter conld have compelled him by 
force of arms ta submit to the humiliation. 



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1859.] Remarks on Assyrian and Median History. 143 

and attacked the Cbaldeana with equal conrage and detenu inatiou, acting, 
in either case, as the independent descendant and TepreseutatiTe of David, 
the renowned king of Judah and Ephraim F 

The Kfiyiewer, however, draws a very different conclusion from the 
last act of the reign of this Jewish king. "That Josiah," he writea, 
" was a vassal of Nabopolassar, is rendered probable b; the fact that he 
resisted so stoutly the invasion of the empire bj Neoho, in spite of the 
proteatations of the Jatter, that hia arms were not directed against him." 
Joaiah, who had reached the age of thirty-nine years, was not ignorant of 
the true value of such protestations* in the mouth of an ambitious Gentile 
monarch, and he probably felt convinoed that if Syria and the western 
aide of the Euphrates should become provinces of the Egyptian empire, 
Necho would not be able to resist the temptation of attempting to add 
Samaria (including under this t«rm the whole of the territory of the ten 
tribes to the west of the Jordan), to the list of his dependencies. For 
our own part we find it very difficult to believe that a ruler of Babylon 
became suzerain of Judah earlier than the year in which Jehoiachim, the 
son of Josiah, became subject to Nebuchadnezzar, after the latl«r had 
defeated Fharaoh-Nccho at Carchemiah. This is certaialy the conclusion 
which most obviously presents itself to us in the Old Testament records, 
and is doubtless much atrengthened by what Herodotus has written of the 
position of Labynetua' (Nabopolaaaar), the friend of Cyaxarea, at the time 
of the capture of Nineveh. 

The Keviewer, we presume, feels himaelf at greater liberty to regard 
Joaiah as a vassal of Nabopolassar,* because he ia disposed to hold with 
Niebuhr that Nineveh waa destroyed hy Cyaxares in B.C. 625, though he 
candidly adds, that " Heeren, Grote, and most other writers, place it as 
late aa b.o. 609 to B.C. 606." If Niebuhr be correct in his view, there 
was no king of Nineveh during the last fourteen or fifteen years of 
Josiah's reign. On the other band, if Grote and Heeren be right, and 
Josiah was really a vassal of Nabopolaaaar, the Jewish king must have 
tranafeired his allegiance to a revolted vassal, while the Assyrian dynasty 
was yet reigning at Nineveh. This is certainly not irapoaajble, but is, 
to say the least, not very probable, especially when we consider tbat in 
635, the time of the formal estshlishment of Babylon as an independent 
kingdom, it ia moat likely that Josiah, unqueationably a king of superior 
ability, energy, and courage, could have raised in hia dominions an army 
equal to any force which Nabopolasaar at that early period of his reign 
could have sent against him. With us it is an almost insurmountable 

' We muBt, however, concede that Jamb, raslil; tiultiag 1o a divine promise, of 
such B gradous cbaraclcr that it should have made him gentle and humble, rather 
than aelf-confident and self-willed, and which he was at the moment unoonseiouilj' 
miiinterpreting and preaumptuonsly abusir^, remained, not without fault, ignorai^ 
that, whether Pharaoli were himself trustworthy or not, his words were in accordance 
with the will of God, and should have been heeded by a king of Judah. 

' Herodotus seems to represeat Labynetua or Nabopolassar to have been a Mug of 
subordinate power and dignity in comparison with Cyaiares. The American Reviewer 
would appear to overlook this, or to think the view of the Greek historian to be 



.byCOOl^lC 



144 Correspondence, [October, 

objection to Niebulir's notion of the destraction of Ninereh in b.c. 626, 
that to accept it we must almost trample under foot tfae testimoa; of 
Herodotus, who seems really to have takea paina to ascertain the facts 
connected with the fall of the Assyrian metropolis. Of courae, should 
authentic arrow-headed inscriptioDs be discovered, asserting the view of 
Niebuhr, Herodotus must in that case give way to more competent wit- 
Qesses. But nothing short of direct Assyrian testimony iu Niebuhr's 
favonr, could prevail upon us to accept the learoed German's conclusions. 
The following appears to us to be not an nuimportant argument against 
Niebuhr, and in support of the opinion of Grote and Heeren. "We do 
not ask whether the Scythiuas ruled twenty-five or twenty-eight years. 
The statements of Herodotus lead us to infer that from the day of their 
triumphant overthrow of the Medes near Nineveh to that of the treacher- 
ous massacre of their chiefs by Cyaxares, which terminated their rule 
and caused the immediate expulsion of the horde from Asia, Cyaxares 
never once attempted to encounter them in the open field, though he did 
not shrink from waging an arduous seven years' war against Alyattcs, 
king of Lydia. This can only be ascribed to his fear that he would not 
be able to overcome them. And the same feeling which led him to shrink 
from marching against them, would induce him to refrain Irom leading 
an army against Nineveh. The crafty barhariaus would rejoice to see him 
wasting his strength in a long and uncertain war against the Lydian king 
Alyattes — this would render him leas willing and able to attempt to 
molest them. But it would have been quite another thing to look on 
tamely while their ambitioua neighbour formally besieged Nineveh, and 
sought to add Assyria to his Median dominions. If they permitted 
Cyaxares to add the territory and population of Assyria to his hereditary 
dominions, would he not become too strong for them, and must they not 
expect that ambition and deadly thirst for revenge would impel him to 
attempt their destruction f It would require no profound political sagacity 
and wisdom to give birth to such commoti-place calculations as these; 
they would be the natural suggestions of the shrewd and selfish cunning 
. of barbarians rendered watchful by the instinct of self-defence and self- 
preservation. We thus think it highly improbable that Cyaxares ventured 
to attempt a second siege of Nineveh, untd his treachery had delivered 
him from all apprehension of Scythian interference. Unless, therefore, 
the American reviewer can shew that the Scythian horde had already been 
expelled from Asia in b.c. 625, we cannot receive his view of the de- 
struction of Nineveh, in that year. The reviewer himself notices the fact 
that, according to the direct statement of Herodotus, Nineveh was not 
destroyed by the Medes until ajler the expulsion of the Scythians; and 
he also allows that it is a probable (though not he thinks a necessary) in- 
ference from the words of the venerable historian, that the destniction of 
the Assyrian metropolis took place after the conclusion of the war against 
Alyattes, It certainly would not be ensy to draw a different conclusion 
from what Herodotus has written. 

It may, perhaps, be asked, why did not two such able sovereigns as 
Nabopolassar and Cyaxares combine to crush the domineering barbarians, 
It is not difilcnlt to furnish a plausible answer to this question. The city 



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1859.] Remarks on Aagyrian and Median History. 145 

of Babylon, tbe Qoeen of the Euphrates, could confideutly defy behind 
her ramparts the rude and headlong ralour of fierce barhariana, who were 
alike destitute of suitable warlike engines, needful military skill, and the 
steady and discipliaed patience and perseveranee absolutely requisite for 
the succeaaful aiege of a strongly fortified city. But if we are to accept 
the narrative of Herodotus as in the oiBin correct, neither Assyrians, nor 
Medea, nor Babylonians, thotigbt themselves able to contend on equal 
terms with the Scythians ; had they, we cannot well doubt that they 
would hare been provoked and exasperated into open hostilities by the 
insolent and oppressive conduct of the barbarians. And if these had 
heard, or even suspected, that a secret league was being formed between 
Nabopolassar and Cyatares for tbeir destruction, though without a hope 
of being able to make themselves masters of Babylon, they would have 
sacked and destroyed every unwalled town and village, and trampled 
under foot the cultivated lands throughout the realm of the Babylonian 
king. This consideration would of itself be enough to deter a prudent 
sovereign like Nabopolassar from doing anything which might bring down 
apon his subjects the fire, and sword, and desolation of his jealous 
marauding neighbours. It would accordingly be bis wisdom to strengthen 
himself, and extend his dominions as quietly and cautiously as possible ; 
and to conduct himself circumspectly, avoiding all unnecessary ostenta- 
tion and display, which might arrest attention and excite suspicion. And 
it is scarcely likely that he would, even it had been really in his power, 
have ran the risk in the early years of bis reign of awakening Scythian 
jealousy by sending a large army across the Euphrates to assert his royal 
claim to all that had belonged to Nineveb in Syria and Palestine. Even 
on this view it is very unlikely, or rather hardly credible, that Nabopo- 
lassar, when in 625 a.c. he declared himself the independent sovereign of 
Babylon, was acknowledged as liege-lord of Jerusalem and Judah, what- 
ever may have possibly happened in Syria and at Damascus. And as the 
kingdom of Judah had at that very time already enjoyed more than thirty 
years' freedom from external warfare, its strength must have been so far 
recruited, and its population become ouce more so numerous, that Nabo- 
polassar would hardly think, either then, or at any other period during 
the remainder of the reign of an able and high-spirited prince, of attempt- 
ing to compel Josiah by force of arms to submit to the Babylonian supremacy. 
Believing with Grote and Heeren that when the father of Nebuchad- 
nezzar proclaimed himself independent sovereign of Babylon in 625 B.C., 
the real suzerain of Samaria and Judah was still, and for some years after- 
wards, on the throne of Nineveh, on what ground could the revolted 
Babylonian vassal have claimed the Bal)mission and homage of a powerful, 
brave, end conscientious king like Joaiah P' The American Reviewer would 

' Amon ia geaenUy believed to have been bom after tbe relurn of bis fother 
Manisteh from bis captivity at Babylon. He na* tweaty-two years old st the death 
of his &ther, and reigDed tno yean. And even if ve suppose Josiah nut to have 
ascended the throoe until B.C. 638, and Uj have reigaed only thiiteea yean ia 625, 
the kingdom of Judah must have enjoyed freedom from eitemal varbre more than 
thirty.Gve yean when Nabopolassar assumed the independent savereignty of Babylon. 
Would Necho have ventured so far from his owu boundariea as the banks of 
VOL. X.— NO. XIX. L ,-, , 

D,g,l,..cbyCjOO^^IC 



146 Correspondence. [October, 

have UB think that the pTesence of Fhaiaob Necho with a mighty host 
could not shake the allegiance of the vassal Josiah to his suzeraia Nabo- 
polassar; why should not we think that at least until the destraction of 
Nineveh, Nabopolassar was unable to prevail upon Josiah to act disloyally 
towards his liege'lord at Nineveh by submitting to a successful rebel at 
Babylon P And agreeing in opinion nith those who think that Nineveh was 
not destroyed during the lifetime of the grandson of Manasseh, we can- 
not help thinking that in whatever way we look at the question, the idea 
of Josiab'a vaaaalage to Babylon appears too improbable for belief. 

In what haa been advanced above in reference to the Scythian domi- 
nion in Asia, we have endeavoured to reply in some measure to the follow- 
ing remarks of the Beviewer : — 

" Herodotus, although perfectly tmatworthy when relating what he 
himself saw, ia a less sure guide as to earlier times, and it is probable 
that he is wrong in supposing the Scythians to have ruled twenty-eight 
years. It ia hardly possible they should not have left more traces of them- 
selves if this were the case, and it seems likely that this period of twenty 
eight years was one only of occasional and destructive inroads, in the 
intervals of which Cyaiarea could carry on his warlike operations." 

Herodotus nowhere teaches us that these fierce barbarians ruled in the 
fortihed capitals of Nineveh, Ecbatana, and Babylon. They might per- 
haps from time to time have possibly demanded gifts from the sovereigns 
of these cities, under the threat, in case of a refusal, of laying waste the 
fields, and defenceless towns and cities. While they allowed Cyaxares, 
of whom they would of course be most jealous, to waste his strength in 
indecisive wars with a distant enemy, he would probably have incurred 
the risk of certain ruin had he attempted to besiege either Babylon or 
Nineveh, in order to make a formidable addition to his own dominions. 
And when we consider the barbarous ignorance and restless wanderings to 
and fro of the Scythian horde, we may aak what enduriug monuments 
of tbeir presence and dominion during twenty-eight years were they likely 
to leave behind them, unless indeed one of their chiefs bad died, and 
they had reared an enormous artificial mound over his grave F 

We will quit this part of our subject by expressing our opinion that 
the fragment from Abydenus, a transcriber of Berosus, which teaches that 
the accession of Nabopolassar immediately preceded the year of the de- 
struction of Nineveh cannot be allowed to weigh against the direct state- 
ments of Herodotus. At the same time we may be permitted to say that 
we will readily surrender our opinion before any authentic Assyrian in- 
scriptions, should such be found confirmiDg the view of Niebuhr. 

The American Reviewer notices with approbation Mr. Rawlinson's 
eaaay on the Great Median empire, and speaks of his valuable su^iestion 

the Euphrates, if sn Eurhaddoa had been on the throne of Nineveh, or a Nebachad- 
nezzai in the height of his power oq that of Bsbylon ? Must we not think that be 
took the apparently bold step in the Isst year of Joaish, because he believed that the 
rnler o( Babylon waa not yet sufficiently strong to meet the king of Egypt on equal 
terms ? Nebuchadnezzar may have gained the victory at Caichemieh even with infe- 
nor forces, through his own peraonal daring and mUilary akill. The hoiC of Pharaoh 
WBi a paiticoloured aiismblage of many tiU>ea and nations. 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] Remarks on Asayrian and Median History. 147 

tbat Herodotus ia mistaken in assigning so early a date aa B.o. 708 to 
tbe independence of the Medea. Few readers of the Greek writer's 
account of Deioces have failed to perceive that a certain portion of what 
was l^endary and mythical entered into the historiati's carrative. The 
Median chronology of Heivdotus leading us to assign to the real or sup- 
posed eBtablishment of Median independence by Deioces, a date very 
slightly removed from the generally received date of the year of Senna- 
cherib's great disaster in Judea — viz., 710 B.C. — was readily accepted by 
many as very nearly approximating to accuracy, Dr. Hincks, however, 
seems to have established from the cuneiform monuments that our received 
chronology is erroneous to tbe extent of at least ten years — that Senna- 
cherib did not begin to reign until 703 B.C. instead of 713, and that the 
army of Sennacherib was destroyed in 700-690, and not in 710. If then 
Median independence took its rise from Sennacherib's terrible humiliation, 
it could not have commenced earlier than 698 B.C. But if we receive, as 
we must on satisfactory grounds, B.C. 530-39, as the year of the death 
of Cyrus, and if we also accept as correct the Medo-Persian regnal 
numerals of Herodotus, then we shall conclude that the reign of Deioces 
commenced cir. 713 B.C. Media is said to have contained at that time 
various tribes independent of each other. Deioces may have begun by 
exercising a judicial chief magistracy in his own tribe, gradually extending 
his authority over the others, until be became the acknowledged ruler over 
all — the pride of the nation leading them to antedate their union and 
establishment as one kingdom, by considering the reign of Deioces to have 
commenced in tbe year in which be was first invested in bis own tribe 
with judicial and magisterial authority. But this we g^nt is mere con- 
jecture, and as such, worth but little. We will therefore dismiss Deioces 
for the present, with the remark that in a former number of this Journal 
(we do not just now recollect which) is a paper by Dr. Hincks, wherein 
he states that he has discovered in one of the airow-beaded inscriptions a 
list of names, among which is one closely resembling that of the founder 
of the Median kingdom. 

The Eeviewer writes, — 

" Mr. Grote has already pointed out the completely mythical character 
of the account given by Herodotus of Deioces. Mr. Kawlinson thinks 
the reign of Phraortes equally so, and places the beginning of Median 
history at the accession of Cyaxares, B.C. 633. The name of Phraortes 
he finds in that of the usurper" Ihiieartiii, in the reign of Darius Hys- 
taspes, of whom we leam from the Eehistun inscription, whose unsuc- 
cessful revolt Herodotus confounds with the successM revolution of the 
Medea of the previous century. His aipiments are, first, tbat all the 
Greek writers, except Herodotus, regard Cyaxares as tbe founder of the 

' If we ue itt liberty to draw an; iajerences from this nime, one of the mott 
obvious would aurelf be. that a rebellioui aapirant to the Median throae would be 
very likely to aaeume, il* he did not happen already to possess, a name which bad 
previously belonged to a wearer of the crown. Hence, the fact that a Median usurper 
bore the name of (Prawarlish) Phraortes. would be, to say the least, rather an argu- 
ment for than against the idea that there had- already been a Median king named 
Phraortes. The father of Deioces ii also aaid to have been named Phraorte*. 

Digili.^byCjOOl^lC 



148 Correspondence. [October, 

empire, and secondly, that tbe monumentB sbeiT that the Uedes continued 
subject to Aasyria as late at least as throagb tbe reign of EsarhaddoD, 
about B.C. 660." 

With macb respect for the ability and learned research of Mr. Kawlin- 
SOD, we cannot assent to his opinion that the reign of Pbraortes was 
equally mythical with that of Deioces, and are somewhat surprised that 
be conld have brought himself to entertain such a view. According to 
the T^nal numerals of Herodotus Phraortea died, and Cyaxares succeeded 
him, cir. 638 b.c. Mr. Bawlinson fixes upon b.c. 63S as tbe year of the 
accession of the latter to the throne. Be it so ; it is not necessary to 
discuss this point ; and we may assume that the real or supposed Pbra- 
ortes fell in battle against the Assyrians in B.C. 683, when he was suc- 
ceeded by that renowned and warlike son, whom " all the Greek writers 
except Herodotus regard as the founder of tbe Median empire." 

Now if we accept the narrative of the reign of Cyaxares as it is 
related in Herodotus, we receive as true that somewhat early in his reign 
he invaded Assyria, utterly defeated its king, and compelled faim to take 
refuge behind the ramparts of Nineveh, to which city the conqueror pro- 
ceeded immediately to lay siege. But it would appear that Herodotus, 
on the very same authority on which be tells ns all this, assures us also 
that in acting thus, Cyaxares was chiefly moved by an eager desire to 
avenge his roj'al father and predecessor Pbraortes, who had himself also 
invaded Assyria, though with a different result, having been defeated and 
slain in encountering tbe sovereign of Nineveh. 

Why are we to receive the testimony of Herodotus in tbe case of 
Cyaxares, and rqect it as unworthy of serious regard in that of Pbraortes P 
It would evidently be a very fair reason for such a procedure, if we conld 
say that what is related of Cyaxares is both probable in itself, and also 
confirmed by other Greek writers, while that which is recorded of Pbra- 
ortes is neither probable in itself, nor mentioned by any other Greek his- 
torian than Herodotus — Should the question be asked, la it at all likely 
that a comparatively obscure Median chief like Pbraortes, if there ever 
really was such a personage, who bad passed his life in subduing certain 
petty and unknown tribes by which his countiy was surrounded, and whose 
highest achievement, according to Herodotus, was the annexation to Media 
of the rude and barbarous nation of the Persians, should have ventured 
without provocation not only on marauding incursions into Assyria, but 
upon such an open and formal invasion of that powerful empire which not 
more than thirty years before had been pre-eminently supreme under the 
sway of Esarhaddon, as would be sure to bring down upon him the in- 
dignant sovereign of Nineveh with all the formidable military force of his 
dominions P we might reply— If it be probable and credible that a king 
of Media, named Cyaxares, thought himself strong enough to invade 
Assyria and encounter its king in the open field in B.C. 632-30, then may 
it be fairly regarded as equally probable and credible, that a Median king 
named Pbraortes thought himself strong enough to invade Assyria only 
two or three years previously, viz., in 633— -unless it can be shewn, which 
no one pretends to do, that there was something so materially different 
in tbe relative position of Assyria and Media in 633 and 630, as to render 



.byCoOi^lc 



1859.] Bemarka on Assyrian and Median History. 14fl 

that whicli wBB quite possible to a Median king in the latter jear, an act 
of almost hopeless presumption and rashness in the former. 

If, for the sake of the argument, we assume that Cyaiares ascended 
the throne cir. 633 b.c. and invaded Assyria, and triumphed so decisively 
over the forces of Nineveh, dr. 630, how are we to explain the fact that 
within thirty years from the death of Esarhaddon, the Assyrian should as 
it were have fallen prostrate to the earth before the Mede, and Kineveh 
herself have been preserved from capture and destraction only by the un- 
expected interpoaitioQ of a warlike Scythian horde P The acconnt which 
Herodotus has given of the career of Fhraortes, the father of Cyaxares, 
appears to ub to be a consistent, probable, and noa-mythical explanation 
of the apparent difficulty. Too much stress must not be laid upon the 
mere sileoee of other writers ; it would have been a veir different matter 
had they professed to have examined the subject carefully, and to have 
fouod good reason for believing that the traditions concerning Phraortci 
were nothing better than idle legends. 

Again, the Persians we are told were anaexed to the Median dominion 
by the victorious arms of Phraortes. This, if a fact, and there is nothing 
improbable in it, would be preserved ia two independent historical tradi- 
tions — there would be a Persian ti dition and a Median tradition on this 
subject, which would thus be rend- fed doubly probable. We are inclined 
to think the very fact that Herodotus should have found it a standard 
national tradition of the Medo-Fersian empire, that Persia was conquered 
and annexed to Media by Phraortes, no light presumptive evidence that 
this established tradition was in agreement with "historical truth. We 
once more remark that the silence of other Greek historians cannot rea- 
sonably be allowed to disprove the positive testimony of Herodotus. In 
this writer also, as in the others, Cyaxarea is the first Median king whose 
conquests and renown had passed to tbc west of the Tigris and the 
Euphrates. In Herodotus Phraortes is engaged in the comparatively 
obscure task of mastering the tribes snd clans which bordered on Media, 
and it was not until the very close of his life that he ventured to emerge 
Irom this more humble position, and contend with the power of Nineveh. 
Hence, there is nothing in the acconnt which this writer gives as of the 
career of Phraortes which can fairly be considered as conflicting with the 
statements of those Greek historians who speak of Cyaiarea as the 
founder of Median grandeur and si'preinacy. 

We have already alluded to t'le mythical character of the venerable 
historian's account of the steps ty wUch Deioces attained to sovereign 
power, and the more attentively ve read it, perhaps the more legendary 
will some of its details appear, '•'here is, however, one point connected 
with it not wholly undeserving of attention. It seems, indeed, rather 
strange that so fierce and martial a people as the Medes should have con- 
structed or accepted so thoroughly pacific and unwarlike a tradition of 
more than fifty years' duration, as that which Herodotus relates of the 
real or supposed founder of Median union and independence, unless there 
bad been some sort of fonndation for it in historical truth. Deioces is 
judge, legislator, magistrate, builde.' of cities and palaces, but not warrior. 
Now if such a personage r^y lived at the time indicated by Herodotus, 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



150 Corretpondertce. [October, 

he must liave been contemporai; during his long career BucceeriTely with 
3argon, SeDnacberib, and Bsarhaddon, sovereigoa macb too pow^ful to 
be encountered in warfare by a Mede of the character, aod under the cir- 
camstances, of Deiocea. Soch an individual may have begun his career 
of ambition in a distant part of Media, remote from Assyrian obserratioa 
and interfeience. His influence, aided by a wary and cautious demeanour, 
may not improbably have graduHlly extended itself over the various tribes 
which then possessed the land, and he may have eventually become a kind 
of supreme judge and magistrate over them all. Still we cannot but thinic 
that he must have felt the need of habitual vratcbfuluess and circumspec- 
tion, and that cruft and policy were the only weapons to which be would 
have recourse. Nor is it likely that be would venture to throw off even 
a nominal subjection to the sovereigns of Nineveb, or that Media became 
really independent of Assyria before the death of Esarbaddon, even if 
Deioces re^y began his official career even earlier than lOS B.C. 

It may perhaps appear to be too wide a digression from the subject 
before us, yet we feel strongly inclined to make one or two remarks ou 
the sudden and wholly unexpected inroad of the Scythian horde into the 
vicinity of Nineveh, and their defeat and humiliation of Cyaiares, when 
flushed with his recent victory he was intent upon the siege of that city, 
expecting that its successful termination would add the Assyrian metro- 
polis and dominion to his own hereditary kingdom. At that time Baby- 
lon had not yet openly renounced the supremacy of Nineveh, and Cyaiares, 
in the grasping and impetuous ambition of his early career, would have 
felt justified, after overthrowing the Assyrian dynasty, in sternly claiming 
for himself the submission and fealty of those cities, rulers, and tribes, 
which had previously acknowledged the feudal sovereignty of that dynasty. 
A mighty Medo-Assyrien dominion would thus have been established ; 
Nabopolassar, instead of being the independent king of Babylon, would 
have been the vassal of Cyaxares. Pharaoh Necho would have feared to 
advance to the banks of tbe Euphrates, Nebnchadnezasr would have failed 
to become the conqueror and scourge of the nations, and Syria, Samaria, 
and probably Jerusalem, would have humbly submitted to tbe irresistible 
Medo-Assyrian supremacy. Thus, too, according to human judgment, 
the fulfilment of those Hebrew prophecies would have been seriously im- 

girilled, which foretold, through Isaiah, the overshadowing greatness of 
abylon, her triumphs over Jerusalem and the house of David, and the 
subsequent humiliation of the Mistress of tbe Euphrates, aod the delivery 
of captive Judah from her yoke by the instrumentality of the Medes and 
their confederates. But the uulooked for interposition of the barbarous 
Scythians, who dreamed not whose special providential instruments they 
were, removed the danger which seemed to threaten the name and honour 
of the JeVFish prophet, by casting down the Mede from his high elevation, 
and thus unconsciously opening the way first for Cbatdean independence 
under Nabopolassar, and then for the proud imperial supremacy of Baby- 
lon under his son Nebuchadnezzar, which was finally to he overthrown by 
a powerful Medo-Persian confederacy. 

It is well for sincere and earnest students of the Old Testament to be 
aware of all such difficult questions as may arise from time to time, in 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Remarkg on Assyrian and Median History. 151 

conseqaence of any real or apparent discrepancies between the statemeots 

of the cuneiform tablets and those of the Sacred Scriptures. One of the 
results of Dr. Hiocka' researcheB is, that Sennacherib began to reign 702 
B.C., nod not in 713-12, as the commody received chronoiogj has it. 
Another is that Sargon, whom some had identified with ShalmaneBcr, 
followed the latter, and preceded Sennacherib on the throne of Nineveh. 
Dr. Hincka also sheva that it was certainly Sargon nho took Samaria, 
whereas the sacred historian seems, at first sight, to teach that this was 
done by his predecessor Shalmaneser. A satisfactory answer to an ob- 
jector is supplied to ns in the statement that, while the Hebrew writers 
say that Shalmaneser advanced against and attacked Samaria, they merely 
assert in general terms that the ^ajfrunu made themselves masters of the 
city in the sixth of Heeekiah. It is thus not at all inconsistent with the 
sacred narrative to say that Sargon brought to a succesaM termination 
the siege which Shalmaneser commenced. 

There is, however, another unexpected difficulty which is not quite so 
easily disposed of as that to which we have just alluded. After a careful 
examination of the subject. Dr. Hincks has felt himself compelled to come 
to the conclusion, that ibe^it year of Sargon, as counted by that mon- 
arch in his annals,, must be regarded as the^Jlk of Hezekiah. Conse- 
quently the tenth of Sargon (who reigned nineteen years), would nearly 
correspond to the fourteenth of Hezekiah. The following is the learned 
writer's statement and proposed solution of the difficulty which results 
from this discovery : — 

"The texi oi Scripture, a* it note ttandt, placea Sennacherib's invasion in the 
foarteenth yttt of Hezekiah, wbich would be. according to tbe Bjsiem here eiplained, 
tbe tenth fear of Sargon. Here is a manifest inconsistenc}' ; and we must suppose 
that tlie teit of Scripture has undergone some cbange. It seenia u if a diBpUcemeut 
of a portion of the teit had talien place, and as if the verses preceding and following 
the passage displaced bad been thrown into one. The text, as it originally stood, wag 
probably to this effect: 2 Kings iviii, 13. ' Now in the fourteenth year of king Heze- 
kiah, the king of Assyria came up (ii. 1 — 19). In those days was king Hezekiah sick 
unto death, etc. (xviii. 13). And Sennseherib, king of Assyria, came up sgalngt all 
the fenced cities of Judah, and toot them (xviii. 14—19, 37)." In the fourteenth 
year of Hezekiah, Sargon actually went to Palestine, as hja annals of the tenth year 
■hen ; bnt they mention no conquests made from Hezekiah. His only act of hostility 
seeuia to base been tbe capture of Asdud, and be seems to have been chiefly occupied 
with visiting mines, among which is specified the gieat copper mine of fiaalzephon, 
probably Sarabat-el-kadim, in the Sinaitic peninsula. In the following yeai, Mero- 
dach Baladaa was still in possession of Babylon ; but being apprehensive of an attack 
fmia Sargon, he would he likely to look about for assistance. Hence his embassy to 
Hezekiah. 

" If then, the Hebrew text originally stood as is above supposed, it would be in 
perfect harmony with the cotemporary records of Assyria ; wherean, if the fourteenth 
year of Hezekiah be equalled to the third year of Sennacherib, in wbicb that mon- 
arch places his expedition gainst Hezekiah, it is utterly impossible to reconcile with 
Scripture the capture of Samaria, which was in the sixth year of Hezekiah, and 
nineteen years previous to this expedition." — J. S. L,, October, 1S58, p. 136. 

On the strength of certain important discoveries of ancient Egyptian 
monnments, the well-known Egyptologer, Dr. Lepsius, proposes to reduce 
the reign of the Jewish king Manaaseb by twenty years ; but Dr, Hincks 
seems to consider this proposal as wholly unnecessary and inadmissible. 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



152 Correspondence. [October, 

We make the following eitract from the American EeTiewer's paper : 

" Esarhaddon built aeveral palaces, among them the aouth-weat palace 
at Nimroud, of materials taken from the palaces of fonner monarchs. An- 
other at Neibi Fwntg, near Kouyunjik, he daima to have been ' such as 
the kings his fathers, who went before him, had never made/ .... It is 
interesting to observe, as signs of his wide sway, sach names among the 
artists employed in building his palaces as these, — ^gisthna of Idalium, 
Pythagoras of Citium, Ithodagon of Paphos, Euryalus of Soli, as well as 
the mention of many workmen furnished him by the princes of Syria, and 
Mauasaeh, king of Jerusalem." 

The 5«newer would seem to have fallen here into a strange mistake. 
If we consult the Anrutli of Btarhaddon, as translated by Mr. H. F. 
Talbot in Tke Journal of Sacred Literature for April, 1859, we find, at 
pp. 75, 77, that the personages here mentioned were not architects and 
artists, but the kings or princes of those several countries. Still it is not 
improbable, as Esarbaddon built a palace which far exceeded any chat had 
been erected by his predecessors, that he may haie taken advantage of 
the skill and taste of architects from among the insular and Asiatic Greeks j 
and one or two interesting inferences will follow from this supposition. 

If the Greek artists introduced into permanent use among the Assy- 
rians any curious and refined working tools, and architectural models and 
ornaments, these would probably retain among the Ninevites their original 
Greek names, slightly Asayrianized, so to speak ; but stilt plainly distin- 
guishable under their partial Assyrian garb. And should we happen to 
discover a cuneiform inscription of a date corresponding, say to 660 B.C., 
containing manifest Greek names of architectural tools and ornaments, ill 
disguised perhaps by the addition of an Assyrian termination, would it be 
the part of sound criticism to ignore Esarhaddon's previous importation 

/ The following is an extract from Mr. Talbot's confessedly imperfect version of 
the jinnait of Eaarhaddon, 

■^ I began to huHd a lofty palace for my royal dwelling ; it waa & great building of 
95 measures In length, and 31 in breadth. What Dane of the king^s, my fathers, who 
went before me, ever did, that I accomphabed. A lofty roof of cedar-wood I raised 
over it. Columas of Shurman.wood, which men had carted (7) excellently inlaid 
with silver and copper, I completed tbem and placed tbem at the ptes. This palace 
of wrought Btone and cedar-wood, with a large park around it, for my royal midenca 
I grandly constructed. 

" Ornaments of silver, ivory, and polished hrass I added thereto. An iToage (1) 

of Ashur my lord, which in fbre^n countries skilful artificers I made its 

porticoes of Sannakba trees from the land of Kbamana. 

" This palace, from its foundatioo to its summit, I huilt, and 1 completed it 

and I called it the Palace of the pleasures of all the Year."—/. S. L., April, 1859, 
p. 77. 

JogephuB tells us from the Tynan annals, that an Assyrian king, probably Shal- 
maneser (or perhaps Sargon), made himself master of Sidon and all the other Phcenl. 
cian towns except Tyre, which was blockaded unsuccessfully by the Assyrians for five 
years, the enterprise being abandoned at the death of Sbalmaneser. We cannot doubt 
tliat the intercourse of Phieniciaii trades had become, much sooner than 700 B.C., 
frequent and familiar with tbe cities of the Euphrates and Tigris, as well as with the 
insular and Asiatic Greeks i and that therefore, cir. &B0 B.C. is rather a comparatively 
late, than a suspiciously early, date for [he first known occurrence of Greek names <rf 
musical or other iustruments in a royal proclamation at Uabylon. 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] Remarks on Assyrian anrf Median History. 153 

of weatera artists, and to prononnce the cuneiform tablet an undoubted 
forgery, on the strength of the occurrence of these Assyrianized Greek 
teiTus? Surely not; the fair and candid critic would not reiuse to allow 
that the existence of such foreign words on the tablet could not, uoder all 
the circumstances of the case, be regarded as a valid ground for denying 
the monument iu question to be a genuine production of Assyrian an- 
tiquity. 

What should reasonably prevent us from supposing, or rather believing, 
that Assyrian and Babylonian Imury and refinement (for Babylon would 
not be unlikely to copy the example of Nineveh even in the days of Esar- 
haddon, who is supposed to have occasionally made the Chaldean city 
his royal residence), may have borrowed the assistance of the musical skill 
and instruments of the Asiatics and insular Greeks, before the destruction 
of Nineveh and the commencement of the career of Nebuchadnezzar P No 
one can doubt that such commercial marts as T^re and Sidon must, as 
early as the time of Esarhaddon, have held constant intercourse towards 
the east, with Babylon and Nineveh, and towards the west, with the 
Greek States on the coasts of Asia Minor. Thus the Babylonians and 
Assyrians would hear through Phoenician mercbants of the superiority of 
Greek architects and musicians, and, through Phcenician channels, Greek 
artists and artisans of high reputation could be brought to the banks of 
the Euphrates and Tigris. Thus even earlier than 60O B.C., we might 
expect to find in the musical bands of the sovereigns of Babylon, as well 
as earlier still in those of the kings of Nineveh, Greek instruments of 
music bearing scarcely disguised Greek names. When then, on looking 
into the book of Daniel, we find a Chaldee proclamation of, perhaps, the 
date of 580 B.C., in which such Greek names of musical instruments as 
tlBapK, aa/i^vicfj, i^a\ii^ptov, and ev/upwi'ia occur ntider the Chaldee 
forms of oV^, «J}d, pnano, and i^i^, why should we impatiently over- 
look the unquestionably probable arguments in favour of an opposite con- 
clusion, and contemptuously stigmatize both Ibe proclamation, and the 
book which contains it, as forgeries unworthy of our serious regard P 
Auberlen writes on this subject, " Among the Mitorical arguments (against 
the book of Daniel), there is one of real historical importance, namely, 
the occurrcnee of Greek names for musical instruments (Dsn. iii. 5 — 7). 
But we may look upon this very point as given up by our opponents. At 
least De Wette says (p. 386), 'It is possible, we must grant, that such 
instruments and their names were known at the time to the Babylonians,' 
a possibility, morever, which Hitzig is unable to impugn." We may feel 
tolerably certain that nothing short of a sincere conviction would have in- 
duced De Wette to have made the concession cited above. 

But it is now high time to bring this paper to a conclusion. After 
all that has been done by the able and indefatigable decipherers and in- 
terpreters of the arrow-beaded inscriptions, not a little yet remains to be 
accomplished (if indeed we may expect that it will ever be satisfactorily 
accompUsbed), before we can resolve some of the difficulties which belong 
to the mutual relations of Assyrian, Chaldsean, and Median history. Tet, 
setting aside the apparently mythical career of Deioces as an obscure and 
uncertain topic, we cannot help believing the probability to be great that 



^byCOO^^IC 



154 Correipondenee. [October, 

what IB related of Fhraortes by HerodotnB is in its leading features ac- 
cording to historical truth, and the probability to be still greater that the 
truly religious and courageoua king Josiah was never the vassal of Nabo- 
polasaar, and that Nineveh was not taken by Cyasares until after his 
treacherous massacre of the Scythian chiefs, and the consequent expulsion 
of the barbarian horde ham Asia. 

G. B. 
/M^ \Uk. 1868. 



ON THE MEANING OF THE WOEDS ^t&D Ut£»ioj ,ajA^ol. 



WHICH ABB 



Sir, — Dr. Cnreton'a translation of the above words, and also that of 
Dr. Bernstein, may be found at p. vi, of Dr. C.'s preface. The former 
scholar states that there is a small defect iu the vellum of the MS. before 
the word uwC, where he imagines that the letter ? originally stood ; and 
he translates the words ^Alci ] »; m'ji^ ' "^ tt "^1 ^7 "^^ distinct 
Gotpel of St. Matlhew," a rendering which, as has been remarked, the 
Syriae language does not admit. The latter savaat gives the translation 
" eoangelium per anni circulum dispoiitum" referring in Justification to 
Assemani's Biblioth. Orient., ii,, p. 330. Of the admissibility of this 
translation there can be no doubt, for the phrase [^jO'Vn ,0 ,< ,\ ,. 10^ is 
equivalent to ]^;^^ilo> Q ' "^ a "^1. elliptic for 1L>]^> C ' "^ A ^"^ 
I m-a\Kn " evangeUum lectionuvt telectamm;" but unfortunately, as Dr. 
Cnreton himself states, the MS. " is not so arranged, nor are there any 
indications whatever of such lections, written at the same period at which 
this title, with the rest of the volume, was copied." 

A third eiplanation is that of Dr, C.'a reviewer. Dr. Land (J. S. L., 
Oct. 1858, p. 160), who in his rather coarse style remarks : "Had Dr. C. 
not been bUnded by his unhappy hypothesis, he would have read so much 
quite clearly in the inscription of the first Gospel : Euangelidn damfassho 
dS Mathai, tub Gospel of Matthew exflaikec, or revised to render 
it easier, more intelligible." Here we have again the particle J arbitrarily 
sapphed, on aeconnt of the small damaged spot in the vellum. 

A fourth explanation is that of Ewald in a recent number of the 
Getting. Gelehri. Ammg. He conceives ]-]0'^j' to mean here " die 
bunie oder abieekhende, tabiata," in contradistinction to the ordinary 
SIUFLEX, lA^-k.a.a. Whether the word J-jP**^ can bear this meaning 
is extremely doubtful ; and, even if it can, we should naturally expect 
(A ». giVi in the feminine, agreeing, like )A^ . » g>_ ^jtb the word 
[AnrnV. edition, understood. 

It has been reserved for Dr. GUdemeister of Marburg to lind the cor- 
rect explanation of this heading, and he has inserted an article upon it 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1B59.] Jewiah Cotamenta on the Gospels. 156 

in the thirteenth volume of the Zeittehr^ d. DeitUcken Morgentdnd. OaeU- 
tchifl, p. 472 — 6. The word l^t'^Vr is, according to him, an honorary 
epithet of the apostle Mattben, ihe Chosen, Selected, or Elected, ooi 

loil^} t" - "^ |t *^]^ t-Mi^L]}, i^uopia/tdpot elt eiarfTfiKiov Btov (Bom. 

L 1). Why this epithet came to be apeciallj applied bj the early Church 
to the Apostle Matthew above all his fellows is not clear; bnt, as Gilde- 
meiater shews, it is frequently attached to his name in Arabic ai^ !Etliiopic 
MSS. Such being the case, we can of course draw no conclusions &om 
this heading as to the origin or state of the Curetonian Sjriac Version of 
the Gospels. 

I am yours, etc, 
IhO^, Aug. 1869. W. W. 



JEWI3H COMMENTS ON THE GH)SPELS. 

To tht Editor of " 22e Journal of Sacred laterature." 

Sib, — Permit me to make a few remarks on a paper from the Jetoisk 
Ckrottiele, which appeared in The Journal of Sacred literature of April 
in the present year, extracted from a work on the doctrinal difference be- 
ttreeo Judaism and Primitive Christianity, with particular reference to the 
gospel of St. Matthew, by the Bev. Isidore Kidisch, Babbi and Preacher 
of the Congregation, Bene Yeshuran, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. 

It is justly remarked in the introductory notice to this publication 
that, ■' a commentary on the gospels from a Jewish point of view was a 
disideratnm long felt both by serious minded co-religionists anxious to 
see the arguments stated on which they refuse credence to Christian doc- 
trines, and by thoughtful and conscienrious Christians equally desirous of 
hearing the grounds on which the believers in the Hebrew object to the 
Greek scriptures." Such a work, if well eiecuted, would be important 
on more accounts than one, especially with reference to our Lord's teach- 
ing. It ia certainly both important and intei'esting to the Christian 
Biblical student, as the objections of opponents, if ably stated, frequently 
lead to clearer views of divine truth and a more decided confirmation of 
the tme faith. We are so naturally and insensibly inclined to regard the 
Holy Bible containing the Old and New Testament as " one book," that 
there is almost an unconsdons difficulty in realizing the fact that it con- 
tains the collected writings of the two dispensations, the validity of each 
of which we equally acknowledge though we esteem the one the comf^tioD 
of the other. The teaching of the Hebrew prophets and the teaching of 
out Lord speak so much the same language, and are bo inseparably con- 
nected in our tbonghts, that to us they ibrm, as it were, one homogeneous 
whole. Nor, hitherto, has this view been disturbed by any controversial 
works from the adherents of the older dispensation calculated to caU forth 
the energy of the Christian mind. It is true, as the writer in the Jewish 
Chronicle observes, " tbere are severs! works in existence the object of 



...CbyCOO^^IC 



156 Corre^ondence. [October, 

whioti Ib the defence of Judaism against attacks from Christianity — but 
these were not exactly the productions wished for." The work to which 
reference will be made in this letter. Tie Jemik Corumeniary on the Qotpel, 
commencing with St. Matthew, appears to be an attempt on the part of 
the professors of that faith to supply such a desideratum. Judging from 
the extracts which he makes from the Babbi Kalisch's work, I shoold not 
think it to be a Tcry successful one. There is an endeayour to shew that 
our Lord's sermon on the Mount, " though it abounds with important 
lessons iSc all conditions of life, yet contains nothing more than what 
the prophets had, long before, many times said and taught." Of course, 
in this view of the question the excellency and authority of our Lord's 
teaching as a divine person is at OEce nullified. The extracts which the 
commentator gives from Isaiah and the Psalms are the sources firom which 
the Beatitudes are supposed to derive the whole of their force and 
efBcacyj in fact, that the former are the original of which the latter are 
imitations. If such be really the case, the advocate of Judaism will be 
somewhat perplexed to answer the question why, when our Lord had 
ended the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount, the people, as we 
learn from St. Matthew, "neie astonished at his doctrine," accustomed 
as they must have been to hear the Psalms and the Prophets constautty 
read and, perhaps, expounded in the synagogue. But, supposing for the 
moment that Christ had not been a divine teacher, there was that in the 
then Jewish world which to us, at least, will prove a satisfactory answer 
to the question. The records of the time present to us a picture such as 
is only seen when a nation is hastening to its ruin. The imperious 
Roman looked with cold contempt and undisguised aversion on the 
enslaved nation of the Jews, which, on the other hand, adhered the more 
closely, from a spirit of opposition, to its forms and traditione. An eicln- 
sive cultivation of these to the neglect of the weightier matl«rs of the 
law, judgment, justice and mercy had, as naturally m^ht be expected, 
infected its teachers and eipounders. No wonder, therefore, that the 
people were astonished at onr Lord's doctrine, because He taught them 
a» one hatiing auiiorily and nol as the scribes. He was in eanteet, which 
their spiritual gnides were not. 

Again, though the predictions of the prophets and the moral precepts 
in various parts of the Old Testament, are couched in hinguage of the 
highest sublimity, yet the mere fact itself is no bar to the supposition 
that these might be brought to bear Hill taore poKerfaUj/ on the mind 
and the conscience, so as to influence more thoroughly tbe individual 
man. And such in truth we find to be our Lord's teaching in the Ser- 
mon on the Mount. In the conceptions of Judaism the several precepts 
may be termed " imitations," hut only imitations in such a sense as when 
a great writer of later date imbues his mind with the sentiments and 
language of an earlier, and by giving them, as it were, an increased con- 
densation and vigour, heightens their effect, and by universal consent 
" makes tbem his own." 

Again, I think it may be safely said that the very terse and condensed 
language in which each of the Beatitudes is clothed, must have been 
calculated to produce a powerful impression on auditors who were accus- 



.byCOOl^lc 



1859,] Jewish Comments on ike Gospehs. 157 

tomed to the sopbiBtrv and perversious by which the scribes and Pharisees 
" trnvestied," as it were, the law of Moses. It wbs not to be wondered 
therefore that He who came to fulfill aod perfect that law expressed anch 
strong iDdignatioD against them. 

Let us now reverse the arrangement of the Jewish commentator and 
place the passages from the Old Testament first in order, and then the 
Beatitudes, which arc supposed to be merely the echo of them. 

" I dwell in the high and holy place with him also that is of a coo- 
trite and humble spirit, to quicken the spirit of the humble and to revive 
the heart of the contrite one " (Isaiah Ivii. 15). 

" The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart and saveth 
such as are of a contrite spirit" (Ps. ixxiv. 19). 

Every Christian must feel the full force of these cheering promises, 
but yet there is a mightier promise contained in the iirst Beatitude. The 
Lord not only looks graciously " upon," and imparts consolation " to " the 
poor in spirit, but the Son of God does still more, He assures them of 
an eternal reward. " Blessed are the poor in spirit for tkeir'i U the kitig- 
dom of heanen." 

" Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord ; and who shall stand 
in His holy place ? He that hath clean hands and a pure heart," etc. (Ps. 

Here is a promise that the pure in heart shall serve God acceptably 
in His tabernacle, but there is still a greater promise under the New Bis- 
pensation, " Blessed are the pure in heart ,^ ihey ihall tee Bod," — be ad- 
mitted not merely to worship Him in his earthly courts, but to see Him 
as He is in the courts of Heaven. 

" As a father pitieth his children bo the Lord pitieth those who fear 
Him" (Ps. ciii. 13). "Who, however, may render himself worthy the 
aboTe name," as the commentator says, " may be seen from Zech. viii. 19, 
where weread; 'Love, truth and peace;' and ver, 16, 'These are the 
things which ye shall do ; speak ye every man the truth to his neighbour, 
execute the judgment of truth and peace at your gates.' " 

These texts teach us that if we speak love, truth and peace, with our 
neighbour, and fear the Lord He will pity us as a father pitieth his 
children. But how great is the reward of those who not only love peace, 
but endeavour to promote it. " Blessed are the 'ptace-makeri for ii^ 
shall be called the Children of God." 

" The mouth of the righteous speaketb wisdom and his tongue 
teachetb wisdom. The law of his God in is his heart and none of his 
steps shall slide. The wicked watcheth the righteous and seeketh to 
slay him. But the Lord will not leave him in his hand " (Ps. xxsvii). 

This last promise which relates to a " temporal " deliverance is by our 
Lord extended to an " eternal," " Blessed are they which ate persecuted 
for righteousness' sake, for iheir'a U the kingdom of Heaven." 

" Hearken unto me, ye who know righteousness, the people in whose 
heart is my law. Pear ye not the reproach of men, neither be ye afraid 
of their revilings. For the moth shall eat them up like a garment, and 
the worm shall eat them as wool ; bnt my righteousness shall be for ever 
and my salvation from generation to generation (Isaiah cli. 7 — 9). 



...CbyCOOl^lC 



168 Correspondence. [October, 

The language of the piopliet pronounces the destmction of tbe wicked 
who oppress the rigbteoua. Our Lord proceeding further, bids the latter 
rqoic« on accDuot of tbe happiness which awaits them in a future state. 
"Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you, and shall 
say alt manner of evil against you falsely for my sake. £^oice, and 
bo exceeding glad, for great it your revard in heaven, for so persecuted 
they the propbets which were before you." 

Tbese more direct references to a future state, which characterize 
the Beatitudes, may be said to pervade equally the whole of the Sermon 
on the Mount, and serve to shew that it was tbe commencement of a 
more perfect dispensation. Strange, then, appears to us the obserratioa 
of Kabbi Kaliscb that "in reading the eihortatioos contained in the 
Sermon on the Mount, we are involuntarily reminded of the blessings 
prouoonoed upon Mount Gerizim, and the curses held forth on Ebal" 
(Deut. xxrii. 23). Considering that these blessings and denunciations 
had reference to " this life only," we may marvel how, even abnegating 
Christianity, be could have failed to see the marked difference. 

That the Mosaic law gives no countenance to the hatred of our enemies 
is quite true; on the contrary, as the fi^bbi truly says, doing so stands 
in diametrical contradiction to both its spirit and its doctrine. But he is 
totally mistaken when he affirms that St. Matthew v. 6, 43 was "« 
barefaced misrepresentation intended to cry down and disgrace Mosaism 
in the eyes of the Gentiles who were unacquainted with the Hebrew 
Bible." Our Lord makes no reference to the moral precepts of the law 
in this passage. He speaks of it merely as a " proverbial saying " oar- 
rent among the people Ye have heard that it hath been mid, thou sbalt 
love thy neighbour and bate thy enemy." N'or are ne at all warranted in 
rejecting the belief that a great dislike to other nations wm to be found 
among the Jew sat the period Christ came among them and even previously. 
The deadly feud which existed with the Samaritans fostered a spirit irf 
intolerance which was not likely to be lessened or softened when it ex- 
tended to foreign nations, and especially to that under whose sway they 
lived. A German writer, quoted in a former number of this journal, has 
well expressed this. " All these foreign rulers vied with one another in 
cold contempt and deadly hatred of the disgracefully enslaved nation; 
and the Jews on their part retaliated with the same contempt and tbe 
same hate known as the odium geaeris humani," stuck to their stiff «!- 
dnsive forms and traditions, from which, however, tbe spirit and life had 
long departed, and planned one insurrection after another, every one 
only plunging them into deeper wretchedness. It well then became 
Him who came not merely to perfect the moral law, but to re- 
commend that love which freely embraces even our own most deadly 
enemies, in opposition to the baser passions then undoubtedly prevalent in 

May we not then be allowed to say in the language of Dean Alford 
that " our Lord pours upon the letter of the law the fuller light of the 
spirit of tbe Gospel ; thus lifting and expanding (not destroying) eveiy 
jot and tittle of that precursory despensation into its full meaniog in tbe 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Jewish Comments oa the Gospels. 159 

life and practice of the Christian who, by the indwelling of the Divine 
Teacher, God'a Holj Spirit, is led iolo a!l truth and purity." 

Lastly the Rabbi speaks (as is fitting) in glowing language of the 
prophet Isaiah, who with " clear perception and correct judgment develops 
and exhibits the means for imitating divine mercy, joy and peace, love 
and grace, benevolence and goodnesB." Yet how marvellous that He 
should be unacknowledged who exhibits in Himself the " faultless pattern" 
of Divine mercy, whom that same prophet predicts as anointed by the 
Spirit of the Lord " to bind op the broken hearted, to proclaim liberty to 
the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound." 
But, alas I Israel knows not the voice of the prophets nor of the Be> 
deemer proclaimed by them. 

H.P. 

Avjfutl il, 1869. 



by Google 



[October, 



NOTICES OF BOOKS. 



'n riAAAIA AUeRKH- K.i.X. Feft« Testamentum Grace juxta 
LXX. Interpretes, Recensionem Graiianam adfidem, Codicis Alex- 
andrini aliorumque denuo recognomt, Graca secundum ordinem 
Textus Hebrai reformavit, libros Apocrypkoa a Cannrnds aegregavit 
Fhidebicus Field, AA.M, ColL SS. Trin. Cantab, olim Socius, 
Samtibus Societatis de Promovenda Doctrina Christiana. Oxonii : 
Excndebat Jacobus Wright, Academic Typog^aphuB. 1859. Sto, 
pp. 1090. 
It is now somewbat about 2000 years since (to aee the words of our 
English translators of the Bible), " it pleased the Lord to atir up the 
spirit of a great Prince, even Ptolemy Philadelphus, king of Egypt, 
to procure the translating of the Book of God out of Hebrew into 
Greek. This is the translation of the LXX. interpreters, commonly 
so called, which prepared the way for our Saviour among the Gentilea 
by written preaching, as St. John Baptist did among the Jews by 
vocal. For the Grecians, being desirous of learning, were not wont 
to suffer books of worth to lie mouldering in king's libraries, but had 
many of their servants, ready scribes, to copy them out, and so they 
were dispersed and made common. Again, the Greek tongue was well 
known and made familiar to most inhabitants in Asia, by reason of the 
conquests that there the Grecians had made, as also by the colonies 
which thither they had sent. For the same cauaes also it was well 
understood in many places of Europe, yea, and of Afiick too. There- 
fore the Word of God being set forth in Greek, becometh hereby like 
a candle set upon a c-andlestick, which giveth light to all that are in 
the house, or like a proclamation sounded forth in the market-place, 
which moat men presently take knowledge of, and therefore that lan- 
guage was fittest to contain the Scriptures, both for the first preachers 
of the Gospel to appeal unto for witness, and for the learners also of 
those times to make search and trial by." Such is the memorable tri- 
bute of respect paid by our Translators to this Porta Gentiiium. Yet, 
however providentially ordained, or however intrinsically valuable, the 
Greek version of the LXX. has been allowed to remain, from its 
earliest dawn to the present day, in the utmost state of disorder and 
confusion. With numerous chapters and verses misplaced, with large 
chasms and gross interpolations, it has in vain invited the labours of 
the learned to attempt its restoration. In vain were the Universities 
of Oxford and Cambridge solicited to undertake its recension. It bas 
remained for "The Christian Knowledge Society" to achieve that, 
which more properly belonged to these wealthy and learned Institu- 
tions. We deem it a high honour to this Society, that it has ventured, 
even somewhat ont of its road, to confer this great benefit on the Cbrie- 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



J859.] Notice* qf Booh. 161 

tian Church. Whether we regard the plao or execution, this nnder- 
taking will form an epoch in the annals of Biblical literature. 

The plan, as presented by "The Foreign Translation Committee" 
of the Society, was this : first, to follow the Alexandrian Text of 
Grahe, as set forth in the Authorized Moscow Edition, 1821 : secondly, 
to separate the Canonical hooks irom the Apocryphal : thirdly, to rec- 
tify all the miBlocations of chapter and verse, by bringing them into 
the order of the Hebrew ; and, fourthly, lo fill up all the chaflms or 
lacuntE, BO &r as they could be supplied by MSS. The execution of 
this arduous enterprise was committed to Mr. Field, who had already 
dtHtioguished himself as an Editor of Gkrysoitom'e Homilies. A more 
faithful and judicious Editor could not have been chosen. Not content 
with a servile copy of the Grabian Moscow Edition, he has revised it 
by an accurate collation with the MS. facsimile of Baber, and occa- 
sionally with the original MS., and thus he exhibits the Alexandrian 
Text in its utmost purity. In numberless instances ho has amended 
the pUDCtnalJon and orthography. But the chief distinction of this 
Edition consists in the rectification of numerous mislocations, and still 
more in supplying the numerous lacuTue. Of these there are now few 
remaining, and none of any signal importance. 

To estimate the valne and magnitude of Mr, Field's editorial 
labours, it is only necessary to turn to the celebrated Polyglott of 
Bishop Walton. There are no less than thirty or forty pages of that 
boast of English typography, in which the corresponding columns of 
the Greek and the Hebrew are left in undulating variations 1 The 
same censure will apply to the minor Polyglott of Bagster, though 
edited by such a profound scholar aa Professor Lee. These defects are 
indeed the more remarkable, because they were previously remedied in 
the Complutensian, the Antwerp, and the Paris Polyglotts. 

As to the numerous Editions of the Septuagint, from that of Aldus, 
1518, to that of Tischendorf^ 1850, not one of them has ever attempted 
to fill up these chasms, or to correct these anomalies. Nay, the very 
idea of bringing the version into the same order as the original, was 
by some first represented aa impracticable, and by others derided as 
absurd. It has been ui^ed that dislocations so ancient should not be 
rectified, and that such venerable chasms should not be obliterated 1 
We rejoice to think that we live in an age and country where antiquity 
can no longer be pleaded as an apology for error. 

If there be any proposition which carries its own evidence, it is 
this ; that a Greek version of the Ancient Scriptures, made hy Jews, 
must have originally followed the order of the Hebrew text. No sub- 
sequent difficulties respecting the date and origin of those mislocations 
and lacuncB can invalidate the force of this axiom. Nor is it less seK- 
evident that it was the duty of the Christian Church to rectify these 
aberrations, and to bring hack the order of the version to the Hebrew 
standard. Yet these plain and uudeniable &cts have never-been suc- 
cessfully carried out since the days of Ximenes. It was deemed quite 
sufficient to print " Juxta Exemplar Yaticanum " on the title-page, to 

VOL. X. — NO. XIX. M 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



163 Notices of Book*. [October, 

jnsti^r every offeooe against Cocker and arithmetic. Nay, it waa ob- 
jected to aome editions, superintended by Bishop Pearson, that they 
bad deviated from the Roman edition, and endeavoared to conform to 
the Hebrew order, and bad ventured to supply some defective verses 
from the Aldine and Complutensian 1 

Now we adduce these facts, not to exult over the shortcomings of 
our forefathers, but to shew the wretched condition in which this cele- 
brated version has been hitherto printed, both at home and abroad. 
What classic author has been treated with similar neglect and igno- 
miny ? And yet this is the book which Christ and the Apostles de- 
lighted to honour. There is a mass of Septoagintal citation in the 
New Testament, which is equal in compass to the whole of St. Mat- 
thew's Gospel. In the speech of Stephen before the Jewish Sanhedrim, 
there are more than fifty minute quotations from the LXX. Nor is 
there a single verse in the New Testament in which some illustration 
of thought or language may not be taken from this sacred treasury. 

We feel convinced that the time has come, however late, when 
justice will he done to this dentero-canonical version. Ever since the 
days of Luther and Calvin, there has existed a narrow-minded class 
of critics who have endeavoured to exalt the Hebrew, by the deprecia- 
tion of the Greek text. They find, as they surmise, certain traces of 
the Trinity in Hebrew words and names, to which the Greek version 
does not respond. It might have been thought a sufficient reply to 
such precarious criticisms, that they derive no support from any cita- 
tions in the New Testament. The doctrine of the Trinity has not been 
left to depend on such Hebraic derivations. There is no trace of these 
Hutchinsonion fantasies in the nmnerous quotations from Moses and the 
Prophets. On the contrary, they delight in giving the ipsiasima verba 
of the Greek version, even occasionally when they differ from the ori- 
ginal. And yet the prejudices of this School stiU embolden them to 
question the value of &e Septuagint. 

Now, though we are far from wishing to see that high exclnsive 
reverence for the LXX. restored, which was prevalent in the early 
Chnrch, we think that this nltra-Hebraic spirit is mischievous and un- 
becoming. It is mischievous, because it leads to the most visionary 
interpretations. It is unbecoming, because it seeks to undervalue the 
version, which was sanctioned by Christ, the Evangelists and the 
Apostles, and by all the primitive Fathers, It was the sole Bible of 
the Church during the first 400 years, and that is sufficient to entitle 
it to the utmost reverence and esteem. 

Nor has it been treated &irly as a version by modem critics and 
divines. They have tested it as they would a close, literal, schoolboy 
translation, and they have found it frequently incorrect and defective. 
But it was never intended for schoolboy purposes. Its main object 
was to render the Jewish Scriptures, as much as possible, useful and 
inteltigihle to the Gentiles. To this end, it often deviates from the 
strict letter, and imparts a more general . and indefinite expression. 
Had it been intended for Scribes and Pharisees, and Doctors of the 



.byCOOl^lc 



1859.] Noiicet of Booka. 168 

Law, its lan^age would have been more academic and rabbinical ; 
bnt it was primarlly^ meant ibr the Hellenistic Jews, and then for the 
Pablicana and Binoera amongst the Gentiles. Hence it is adapted 
rather to the aynagogne, than the temple worship. And thus, even in 
what critjcs esteem its faults and defects, we may discover " the power 
and wisdom of Clod." Hod it not been written in this strange, amor- 
photts, barbaric Greek, it conld not have been prevalent amongst 
the Jewish proselytes. Nor coold it have accorded with the style of 
the New Testament, which is written in the same Greek, somewhat 
modernized. 

But the principal importance of the Hellenistic version consists in 
its Tocabola^ of doctrinal terms, the same as that which is adopted 
by the writers of the New Testament. Whoerer will call to mind the 
peculiar meaning <^ faith, righteoumeu., jueli^cation, salvation, etc., in 
the Christian system, will find the very same words are previously 
nsed in the Greek version. Now, had we been left to translate these 
terms directly from the Hebrew, we never could have possessed any 
fixed doctrinal vocabulary, and consequently their meaning would have 
been rague and uncertain. Let those who carp at the Septuagint, as 
a loose translation irom the Hebrew in matters of minor importance, 
consider how accurately and uniformly it has ratified and attested the 
doctrinal language of Christ and his Apostles. It is this previous at- 
testation which gave it such a high value in their esteem. It is this 
concord which induced tbem generally to prefer the received words of 
the version, to any original translation of their own. It is this iden- 
tity which should persuade critics, and more especially divines, to 
forego puny and unimportant objections, in the consideration that, ^tart 
from the Hellenistic terminology of the Old Testament, we conld not 
have accurately inveatigat«d, or ascertained, the peculiar doctrines of 
the Christian Faith. 

Nor is it just to undervalue the comparative importance of the Apo- 
cryphal Books, however we may approve of their separation from the 
CanonicaL It is of the greatest moment that we should possess these 
historical and ethical writing in the same style and phraseolc^y as 
that of the Greek version. Whoever will accurately study this Apo- 
cryphal appendLs, may soon discover that its language still more re- 
sembles the style of the New Testament, than the more antique forms 
of the Macedontc dialect. As ori^nal composition, it is less fettered 
than the version, and partakes more of oral familiarity. There is very 
little difference between the Maccabees and the Acts in style and phrase- 
ology. Nor is it of leas importance that we should possess the 
current morality of the Jews, as exhibited in the Books of Sirach and 
Wisdom, without the stereotype of Inspiration. It can demand no 
great expansion of thought to perceive how much influence such quasi- 
canonical writings confer on the general credibility and authenticity of 
the sacred Scriptures. 

We think it deserves the consideration of the directors of our 
Public Schools, whether it would not be proper to introdoce the occa- 

M 3 

D,g,l,..cbyGOO^^IC 



164 Notices of Books. [October, 

aional reading of the Greek Version, as introdnctory to the Greek 
Testament. We beliere that Dr. Arnold at Rngby heretofore sanc- 
tioned this suggestion, and certain it is that Dr. Blair's Dissertation 
on the Septuagint Version (London, 17B5), was delivered before the 
Westminster scholars in compliance with a statute of the Foundress, 
which is stJU in force. It is far better that the hoys should become 
acquainted with the peculiarities of the New Testament Greek, by 
some practical acquaintance with the LXX., than that they should 
distinguish them as barbarisms by the aid of grammars. Indeed, the 
gentlemen who write such Hellenistic grammars, seem quite ashamed 
of their vocation, for they are always endeavouring to wipe off the re- 
proach of such " unlicensed Greek," by hunting out some classic writer 
who has used a similar expression. They little reflect, that if they 
could classify all these anomalies, and bring Evangelists and Apostles 
to write in the style of Xenophon or Plato, they would abolish the 
characteristics of verbal inspiration, and well-nigh demonstrate the 
New Testament an imposture. Hoc Ithacus velit. 

We must once more revert to the high obligation which we owe to 
" The Christian Knowledge Society," as the promoter, and to Mr. 
Field as the editor, of this incomparable editioD of the Septnagint 
It has appeared at the period it was exactly wanted. It is much to the 
credit of the University of Oxford, that it has recently established a 
Public Terminal Lecture on this Gi-eek version. As it had previously 
required some knowledge of the LXX. from those who aspire to the 
highest honours, it was only consonant that a public Chair should be 
dedicated expressly to its study. We augur much good from this ad- 
dition to our theological curriaihtm. It will chastise an exclusive 
attachment to Attic Greek. It will shew the candidate for holy 
orders, that the Hellenistics of the New Testament are not beneath his 
attention as a scholar, whilst they are indispensable to him as an in- 
cipient cleric. Let him read and study the PriBfatto PaneneUca of 
Bishop Pearson,* In nuce Ilias. He will need no more to convince him 
of the value of the Septuagint. 

We add the Society's own account of this work, as given in th^ 
Report : — 

" The labom^ of the Foreign Translation Committee have now extended over 
a qoartar of a century; and in preaenting this, their Twenty-fifth Atinnsl 
Report, the Committee have the satiBfaotion of being able to murk snch ui 
epoch in the history of their proeeedingB, by laying before the Board a work of 
~ ~ important a character aa their new edition of the Greek SeptimmnC, jnat pnh- 
US. V" ■ " -....---- ---.-—.-.... ...... ... 



lished. When they pccaenled their Kcport thia time last year to the Board, the 

Committee expreaBca a hope that thia work might have appeared before "' ' ' 

And that ohject might, indeed, have been effected if they had h 

tisfy themaelves with pobliahing merely the Greek teit alone. Bi 

dering that this edition of the Septnagint differs, in some respects veij n 



to satisfy themaelves with pobliahing merely the Greek teit alone. 

]eriiig that this edition of the Septnagint differs, in some respecti 

tertal^, from all that have preceded it, while it had required no ordinary amonnt 



of learning and of critical skill and care, to revise and arrange and carry throoRh 
the press anch a test aa was contemplated by the Committee, it was thought 
that it would be neither satisfactory to the public, nor fiur to the learned ani' 

* Lately republished by Profeaeor Selwyn, with notea of Archdeacon Chnrton. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Notices of Books. 165 



IS editor, Mr. Field, to put forth n work of such importance wi^out 
■oniB explanation of the objects for which it whs undertaken, and of the prin- 
ciple and plan on which it has been coodncted and accomplished, together with 
some sufficient indication of the careful and judicious criticism which had bean 
hroHE-ht to bear upon it. And the Committee feel confident that when the 
' Prolegomena ' profiled to the text, and the ' CoUatio ' which fonns an appendii 
to the Tolnme, come to be eiamined, it will be allowed that it was well worth 
while to have delayed the pnblication, for the sake of inserting such valuable 
and satiafactory documents. 

"This edition of the Septnagint, it will be remembered, was undertaken 
with the sanction of the Board, five years ago, whea the Foreign Translation 
Committee stated that their object should be to produce such a text, as might 
be both aerviceable to Biblical students at home, and alao acceptable, at the same 
time, to the Greek Church, for whoso benefit they had already printed one 
editiOD of the Septnagint at Athens. The Athens edition, in four volumes, was 
printed from the Moscow edition of the Bible, which was the one in common 
nse in the East, and might consequentlr be considered as exhibiting the aatbo- 
lized text of the Greek Church ; and with the ready and entire approval of the 
Synod of Attica, in this reprint of the test under their own superintendence, 
the apoctrpbal were separated from the canonical books, and formed the foartli 
Tolume of the work. The apocryphal parts of the hooks of Esther and Daniel 
were, however, inadvertently left where they were found in the Moscow edition , 
and although these portions were, in some instances, easily detected by not 
beins divided into verses at all, and in other cases were marked by a separate 
numbering of verses of their own, which distinguished them from the canonical 
portions of the chapters to which they were attached, jet those interpolations 
were considered svmcient cause for not placing that edidon on the Bociety'e 
Catalogue for sale in this country. 

"The Codex Aloxandrinus is the basis of the Moscow text, which ia, in fact, 
nothing else thau a creditably accurate reprint of O-rabe's, or rather of 
Breitinger's revision of Grabe's edition of the Beptuagint. To accomplish the 
double object, therefore, proposed by the Committee, it was nBCeasary to adopt 
this text; and it was determined, in this newly-revised edition, not only to 
separate all the apocryphal matter from the canonical hooka, but also to remove 
the inconveniences arising from the unaccountable dislocations of chapters and 
Tersea which occur in certain books of the Septuagint, hy re-arranging them 
according to the order of the Hebrew text. This desideratnm the Committee 
trast it will be found that Mr. Field has skilfully and successfully accomplished. 
And he has so accomplished it as still to ahew what the previous arrangement 
of the Greek text was. For while, for the manifest convenience of Biblical 
students, the text of this edition reads, chapter and verse, side by side with the 
Hebrew, and with all translations from it, an additional and collateral number- 
ing of chapters and verses, where necessary, in brackets, shews what was before 
the order of the Greek. In one case, that of the thirty-sixth and following 
three chapters of Exodus, where the confusion of the Greek text is so great 
that the two separate arrangements could not be distinctly marked in that 
manner, the text in exteneo, just as it stands in the Septnagints hitherto In use, 
is printed in a smaller type, below the arranged text of this edition. The addi- 
tions to the books of Esther and Daniel are removed, and placed with Uie 
apocryphal books, as in our English Bibloa ; and all those shorter apocryphal 
interpolations in other books which could not be conveniently removed and 
printed by themselves, snch, for instance, as the allusion to the bee in the sixth 
chapter of Proverbs, arc in this edition marked with inverted commas. 

" With regard to the text JtseK, no pains have been spared to render it as 
satisfactory as possible. Mr. Field's character, as a learned, judicious, and 
accurate editor, was already established by his valuable labours upon the 
Homilies of St. Chrysostom ; and in his late editorial lahonrs in the service of 
this Society he was well supplied with all needful means and appliances for the 
satisfactory accomplishment of the task imposed upon him. Beaides his own 
resoarccE, the UniverBity library and the library of Trinity College, Cambridge, 



.byCOOl^lC 



Notices of Books. [October, 



piOTide him with a copy of Mr. Baber's fooBioiile of ths Codex Alsuuidiiaiis ; 
and wherever, in the course of hU Uboura, there appeared to be any reoBon to 
quoBtioD the BCCOTicy of Mr. Baber'B work, the anginal Codex ww carefully 
examined. And the Foreign Translatian Committee feel tbemselveB bonnd to 
take this opportonity of Bcknowledging, with gratitude, the ready courtesy 
with nhioh every facility of ceference to that precioiu manvBcript was at all 
times afforded them. It is only jaat also to add, at the Bame time, that, as tha 
tiee which has been mode of Mr. Baber's fac-Bimile, in piepariDg this edition 
of the Beptoagint, has tested, bo also has it confirmed the claim of hie work to 
the character of remarkable accuracy. 

" An early cop; of Cardinal Mai'e Troniciipt of the Codex Vaticanos was 
also procored for the obc of this edition, and ia now first applied to the improre- 
ment of the text of Ezekiel and following Canonical books, as well as of nearly 
the whole of the Apoerypha. In the earlier books, which had been previously 
printed off, constant reference has been made to the same anthority in c<»i- 
atmoting the Appendix." 

The Betited Edition of the Vatiean mw Testament. (Novum Testa, 
jnentum es TetuatiBsiiao codice V&ticatLo, Becundis curia editum 
studio Angeli Mail, S.H.E. Card. Bomfe ; anno hdccclix, 8vo.) 
CABDiNAii M*T was bom ia 1782, and died in 1854. In the course 
of hia life he was engaged in many learned works, and won for him- 
aelf great and deserved reputation. Several years before his decease 
he waa commissioned by the Pope to edit the celebrated manuacript 
known as the Codex Vaticanue ; the New Testament portion of which 
had never been published, nor even satisfactorily collated. He 
entered upon this ^rcat undertaking more than thirty years f^o, and 
the text of his edition waa printed long before he diei Owing, how- 
ever, to the numerous errors discovered, the volumes were not pub- 
lished until 1858, and af^r correction; and, it may be oheerved, 
without the expected prolegomena. This work waa welcomed by 
Biblical scholars everywhere, but it was soon discovered to abound 
in miatakes which detracted very much from its value. In the mean- 
time a new and revised edition of the New Testament alone was pro- 
mised ; the promise haa been fulfilled, and the result is now in our 
hands. Beapecting it the editor (or publisher) makes the following 
statement : " When the first edition waa finished, and collated afresh 
with the Vatican Codex, Mai detected aome things, which seemed to 
require either complete alteration or a more accurate representation, 
and when he had resolved, for the reason given (torn, i., p. 11), to 
make it literallv conformed to the Codex, he began to think of pre- 
paring a new edition, but being overtaken by death he only left the 
New Teatament winted after revision. Therefore, thia second edi- 
tion of the New Testament, excels on more accounts thui one, as we 
think it may be well to prove by a few examplea." 

It ia clear from thia atatement, that the Cardinal intended to re- 

Eublish the whole of the Old and New Testaments, but actually 
ved to execute only the latter portion, which waa printed before he 
died. It ia his reviaion, therefore, which we now have, and we may 
infer from it what we have lost by his non-completion of the work, 



.byCOOl^lc 



1859.] Notices qf Books. 167 

what we should have gained by his execution of it. To shew the 
superiority of thia edition over the former, the editor in hia preface 
goes on to say : " When the Codex has in teeimda mantt a reading 
different from that which the orieinal scribe had given, Mai often 
neglected to make a note of it in the first edition, of which Tischen- 
dorf has not unjustly complained." " But in tlus new edition you 
will find it noted in the ouyrgin in innumerable places. Compare 
Matt. i. 8, 10 ; V. 16 ; vi. 82 ; vii. 9 ; viii. 3, and elsewhere often." 
In Acta vii. 47, therefore, we are now informed that the original 
reading was oUoio/nftrty, for which the corrector substituted ifroSo- 
fufaev ; in 1 Cor. li. 3 ; also, we learn that o before Xpirrdi has been 
supplied by a later hand. In this respect, then, the new edition is 
much to be preferred, since without the indication of the changes 
alluded to, we could never certaiidy know the real value and cha- 
racter of the readings given. The neglect of this precaution to such 
an extent in the first edition is not only inexcusable, but inexplica- 
ble. We should have supposed that among the first rules laid down 
by an editor for his guidance in the execution of such a work, would 
have been thia, to distinguish between the readings by the first and 
subsequent hands, and wherever practicable, to state what was origi- 
naUy written. 

A second class of errors which existed in the original edition, 
consisted of cases in which the printed text differed altogether from 
the manuscript. Many of these, but not all, were poiated out in a 
list of errata. The following cases are pointed out by the actual 
editor Vercellone : in Acts vii. 51, t^s waa given before ko/j^ios, 
although absent from the manuscript ; in Jude verse 4, for Tapeute- 
ivaav we must read ■rapeuretiifaau ; in Kom. li. 21, we should read 
^Eio-eriu and not iptiirtjTcu ; in 1 Cor. vii. 22, koi must be erased after 
ofioiait since the Codex does not contain it ; in verse 37 of the same 
chapter for ie t^ xap&if we are to read cv t^ iSi^ xapSia; ia 1 Cor. 
xiii. 3, Y'w/M^v iuust be corrected into -^wfUaio, and in the margin 
for Kavx^oopat wc are to read •rovx^'""/""- To the specimens thus 
given others might be added, but these are sufficient to shew the 
character and extent of the errors in question. 

There is another respect in which alterations have been intro- 
duced into this edition. The sections of the original are indicated 
by Oreek numerals, but in his first edition Mai gave some of these 
incorrectly, and where there was a double series the second was 
omitted altogether, as in the Acts of the Apostles. Although this 
does not affect the integrity of the text, it prevents us from having a 
correct appreciation of an important literary feature of the manu- 
script, and we are glad to have the mistake rectified in the new edi- 
tion. 

One of the noticeable features of the Codex Yaticanus is the 
very frequent omission of words, phrases, and entire verses which 
occur in the received text. By a singular error of judgment ae we 
think, the Cardinal supplied many of tiiese in hia first edition either 
in the text or in the margin. In the new edition he has gone yet 



.byCOOl^lC 



168 Notices of Boola. [October, 

further, and generally introduced the supposed omiBsionB into his 
text where they occur. True he has placed a note before and after 
vhat be haa added, but we must regaid the whole as superfluoua, 
and we wish none of them had been inserted. As far as we can 
judge, the exceptions to this rule are as inexplicable as the compli- 
ances with it ; but it will probably be found to have originated in a 
desire to reduce the Vatican text to a certain conformity with the 
liatin Vulgate. We are quite disposed to repeat a recommendation 
alreadygiven elsewhere, that the possessor of tnis volume should draw 
his pen through every one of these interpolations, to prevent the 
possibility of mistake or confusion. 

Further, it is admitted that this edition is not inimaculato, and 
some examples of erroneous readings are pointed out by the editor 
who gives the required corrections. Thus in Matt. vii. 32, the first 
edition had in the margin " 2 M, Trpoe^Tevaafiev," and the second 
haa "1 M. ivpoi^Tevoa/iev" but neither is accurate, the true reading 
is " 2 M. vpotf>r)Tevaafifv." 8o also in 1 Peter i. 7, the first has in the 
text Tci/iwTEaDi>, and the second the same, whereas we should read 
Ttiftorepov. In chap. iii. 6, of the same epistle, the correct reading 
is vw^xoveti. In Jude, verse 12, elaiv o! eir is the reading of the 
Codex. In 1 Cor, xiv. 16, for Tif Tmev/iaTi, we must read cu wveii- 
fiari since t^ is not in the manuscript. In 2 Cor. v. 13, el is to be 
expunged ; and in chapter vii. verse 4, ev nf xap^ is the reading of 
the manuscript. Nor must it be forgotten 'that the errata pointed 
out in the former edition, have not in every case been corrected. 
These confessions are calculated to leave a measure of doubt still in 
our muids aa to the thoroughness of the revision which haa been 
undertaken, not to say that they engender the suspicion that more 
remains to be done bewre we caai be certain that we have an accurate 
transcript of the original manuacript. 

There are two places in reference to which a remark is made on 
the readings given by Mw, and it may be useful to note them. The 
first, is the reading Evpaicvhwv in Acts xxvii. 14, which Tercellone 
says is really to be found in the manuscript, contrary to the sus- 
picion of Tischendorf. The second is I Cor. vii. 17, where Bentley 
Bays the words ovroit jrfptwaiaior- icai are omitted, which is not the 
caae, as they form part of the text. 

The preceding observations upon the preface to this edition wiD, 
we hOTie, be acceptable to the possessors of the first. It is apparent 
that Vercellone deserves a measure of commendation for the honesty 
of his statements, although we wish he had presented us with a com- 
plete liat of passages in which this reprint deviates from the original. 
This is what was required, and a new and thorough coDation of the 
present revision witn the Codex Vaticanue, would have been grate- 
mlly accepted. As it is, we have the unaatiafiictory satisfaction of 
knowing that after all the manuscript in question is not perfectly 
represented by either of the editions which have issued from the 
preas. 

To return to the peculiarities of the revised edition of the Vatican 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Nolicea of Books. 169 

New Testament. The alteratioiiB pointed out in tlie preface, are not 
the only onea which have been made. Beadinga which were at first 
placed in the margin are now frequently restored to the teit, and 
vice verm. But here again the editor naa failed to carrr out one 
uniform rule. Kothing would have been easier for him to determine 
than a principle upon which to proceed. Two courses were open to 
him. He might have always preserved in the test the readings which 
the Codes now exhibits, and nave inserted in the margin the readings 
of the original penman as far as they could be ascertained. "Where- 
ever an alteration had been made he should on all accounts have 
made a note of it. This would have been a comparatively simple and 
easy course to pursue, but it was not the only one possible. The 
editor could have endeavoured to restore the original readings in the 
test, and placed the corrections in the marjgin. At the same time 
this would have been more difiScult, and in its results probably more 
unaatisfectory than the other method, aa will he perceived in a mo- 
ment by those who have any experience in reading ancient manu- 
acripta. Aa it is Mai seems to ikave had no rule at all, he went on 
with his work and finished it e&er a fashion, but so as not to merit 
the laurels which would otherwise have been awarded him. 

We shall not stop to dwell on some other points, although we feel 
strongly tempted to say what is in our heart. Tet we cannot alto- 
gether overlook the &ct that the revised edition very often presents 
us with readings of which no account is given, although they deviate 
considerably mim those before published. In some caaea we really 
fear the alterations are not improvements, and this remark applies 
both to the text and to the margin. It is admitted there are errors, 
and if it had not been admitted, they would have been discovered by 
those who took the trouble to compare the two books. As if to 
make matters worse, the new edition is printed in separate verses 
like the common English Bibles, and in double columns in a very 
small type on third rate paper. It should not be forgotten, however, 
that the editor has throughout supplied the pagination of the manu- 
script, so that if ever an opportunity for collation presents itself, 
the task will be facilitated. 

Scholars will be satisfied with nothing short of a verbal and 
literal transcript of this famous Codex. ThCT have a right to expect 
it, if not to demand it, and we hope they will knock at the doors of 
the Vatican till the ancient gentlemen who have t^ken three centu- 
ries to deliberate about this matter, wake up in real earnest to give 
them what they want. The readings of the Codes may be often 
false, ite speDing may be erroneous, but an editor is required who 
shall give the world a feir copy of the book, and leave it to the critica 
to pronounce their opinion upon it. Perhaps we shall be reminded 
that the theological principles which now prevail iu the Eternal City 
have something to do witb it, but we do not see why, be they what 
they may, they should prevent the publication as it m, of the text of 
the Codex B. For ourselves, our present object ia not to criticise 
the test in question, but to describe this new edition of it, to make 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



170 Notices of Books. [October, 

an obserration or two upon its editorahip, and to express our deep 
conviction that valuftble as it ia when cempared with, or when added 
to the other, it cannot Mid it ought not to satisfy the juet eipecta- 
tion of the learned world. The Pope himself promised them an 
accurate copy, and they must not be put off with any thing lees, 
whether it coat two leudi like this, or twenty. 



A Grammar of the Nmo Testament Diction, intended at on Intro- 
duction to the Critical Study of the Greek New Testament. By 
Dr. Geokhe Benedict WnrEE. Translated from the sistn 
enlarged and improved edition of the original by Ebwabd 
Masson, M.A., formerly Professor in the IJniveraity of Athens. 
Edinbui^h : T. and T. Clark. 1869. 8vo, pp. 730. 

Wb noticed the First Part of this very valuable contribution to the 
English apparatus for the study of the Gbeek Testament, and are 
happy to inform our readers that the work is now complete. It 
forms a bulky volume for the low charge of ten shillings, about one- 
third of the price at which each a work is generally issued from the 
Eress. The printing and paper are excellent, and the translation, as 
IT as we have been able to esamine it, is correct and perspicuous. 
The value of the original work of Winer is too well known, and has 
been too long conceded, to need any eulogy from us. We can only 
express a hope that the book may now be more generally used, and 
that its introduction to the English reader may conduce to a more 
close and discriminating use of the Ifew Testament. 

Prefixed to the volume are what are called the "Translator's 
Prolegomena." These are somewhat novel, for " their main object is 
to shew that, in conneiion with a critical study of the Scriptnrea, a 
knowledge of the living language and literature of the Greeks is of far 
greater importance than Bibhcal philologists are, as yet, generally 
aware." We cannot say that we thmk much of these remarks. They 
treat of accentuation, and the pronunciation of letters, and what is 
called " dialectology," and are good as far as they go ; but they do not 
seem to extend so iar as to throw much light on the Greek Kew 
Testament. There are some interesting facte brought before ua on 
the Hellenic dialect. We will quote one passage -.-^ 

" The diotioa of tbe New Testament is the plain and unaffected HeUenio ol 
the apostolic age, ss employed hj Qreek-speaking ChrialiaitB wbea disooursing on 
religious subjects, 

" It cannot be shewn tbat New Testament writers introduced any word or 
expression pecuhar to themselves. The Septua^nt tWnisbed them with most of 
the religious terms thej required; and, as the history and doctrines of Christtaoitf 
had been for some y&an djecussed in Qreek before any part of the New Testa- 
ment was written, the oral or written pbraseolt^ of the Oreek-speating ChriS' 
tjan Gommuuity supplied the reat, 

" The style of the New Testament writers is, even in a, Hr^iUstic point of view, 
peculiarly intereatiug. Perfectly natural and unaffected, it la free from all tinge 
of vulgarity, on the one hand, and from every trace of studied finery on the other. 
Apart frmn the Hebraisms — the nmnber of which have, fbr ib« most part, been 



.byCOOl^lc 



1859.] Notices of Booh. 171 

gronl; eu^ieratod — the New Testament nu; be considered u eiMbiting the 
ooi; gemU*e fac-nmile at the colloquial diotion employed bj maopiitaaated 
Grecian gentlemen of the first century, vrho spoke without peiWtrf, as ttugrw. 
Bud not as trapiinai. 

" Neither the translators of the Old Testament, nor the writers of the New, 
■Seated to reach the artutio diction of Plato or Demosthenee ; but thej all unqueS' 
tionahly have a full command of the omrent Hellenic of their times. 

" The idiom of the Greek fathers Is a literary and aov^orite dictioiL Having 
for its basis the select Hellenic of the time, it contains a more or lees copious 
infusion of itandani Attic of the best i^, according to the taBl«, attaiomeute, 
and character of the writer, with a certain admixture of Bihhcal Greek, and of 
phraseology originatiiig in CbriBlian modee of thought and eccleeiastdaal insti- 
tutions." 

There are some observations at the close of the Prolegomena 
which we think would have been better away. Their tendency is 
to make the mind of the student the arbiter of what the Bible 
teachea, to the neglect of teetimony. There ia a method of talking 
of depending on the Holy Ghost which souttdg pious, but is really 
calculated to lead to &na,ticism. If there were no aids to the inter- 
pretation of Holy Scripture, then it would be quit« legitimate to 
eipect God to throw direct light upon it ; but if Hia Providence has 
giTen ua numerous ezteruid aids, then we should pray for grace to use 
them properly. To reject the testimonies of the Church in its whole 
extent, and with the proper safeguards is presumption. We will 
give the passage to which we refer : — 

" While urging the duty of free enquiry, we beg, in conclusion, to recommend 
to the solemn attention of young persons eng^ed in the study of the Holy 
Scripture, the following stnking words of one of the most acute dirines and 
eloquent orators of the present i^ (Dr, Candlish): — 

" ' What is your reUgion ? The Bible. But is it the Bible interpreted by 
tiie Church, or the Bible interpreted by your own reason 7 The Ecri^onaUat will 
answer, I am competent to judge of the meaning of Scripture for myself; not 
BO the spiritual man. He knows he must have the Bible interpreted to him 
by the Holy Spirit. Jesus, ho knows, has not merely left Hia Word. The Spirit 
who inspired the Word is ever at hand to interpret it. This is not pretending to 
inspiration, or infalhbility, or a right to dictate to other men's oonsciencea. It is 
not the guidance of the Spirit, apart from the Word, or over and above the Word, 
that such a one claims, which would really be fanaticism ; but the guidance of the 
Spirit in, through, and by the Word, which is sober sense, and a security of 
ft^edom.' 

" Qod U alotte Iiord of the eotucienee. The urtll of Chriti it the mi^ rule iii 
ptopU are to follow. Sit tnU u revealed enclueir'elg m Air Word, The 8^rit u 
iie tole interpreter ofthe Word. This is the glorious principle of the right of 
private judgment. This is the only true Froteetantism." 

The Translator here pronounces a dictum which seems to iw, to 
say the least, out of place. "We are also sorry to find he hae intro- 
duced his own subjective views into the work. He says that he has 
"felt compelled to record his dissent, and utter a caution te junior 
readers, where Dr. Winer's doctrinal views appeared to have undidy 
influenced his grammatical conclusions." But who is to decide 
whether Mr. Masson or Dr. Winer is most worthy of credit ? We 
thmik the publishers for this welcome volume. 



D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



ira NoHcea of Booh. [October, 

S^eWt Hittory of CowieiU. (Conciliengeachickte. Nach den 
Quellen bearbeitet von Dr. Caeb Jobefh Hefblb. Vol, iii,, 
8to. 1858.) 

We are imwilliiig to allow this volume to paae without some notice, 
intercBting as it does so deeply every student of Chnrch hietory. 
The name of the editor has been long known in connexion with the 
early literature of the Church, but in our judgment his past servicea 
have been far inferior to that which he is now rendering. Works 
ou the councUs are numerous enough, and some of them very la^ 
and costly : but there was a manifest want of one which should give 
a iair ouuine of their history, Bud which should contain a summaiy 
of their more important decisiona. Thia ia what Dr. Hefele has 
undertaken ; and before us is the third of the volumes which he has 
publiBhed. Ab a member of the Bomish communion, he is in many 
reapects, as we think, partial and undecided ; but he is free from the 
ignorant and Phariaaical Ultramontanisra which outrages at once his- 
toric truth and common sense. A HomiBh writer on the history of 
councils or of the Church, must be an apologist and the defender of 
his system, but it is not requisite that he should set at defiance all 
the laws of evidence, and heap up and send forth as genuine all 
the apocryphal rubbish he can have access to. Heuce there are 
some Bomish writers of history who deservedly rank very high for 
their veracity and critical acumen, as well as for learning and in- 
dustry. Every reader is aware to what an extent, formerly much 
more than at present, authors of no mean pretensions published as 
genuine whatever subserved the interests of their party, and sup- 
pressed what went against them, and both without re^rd to ques- 
tions of spuriousuess and genuineness. A large work on councils 
now before ub, under the head of Synods of the Old Testament, com- 
mences with the " Synod of the Most Holy Trinity on the Salvation 
of Man by Christ the Bedeemer, from eternity in the mind of God." 
This is followed by the " CouncU of Angels, celebrated in the year 
of the World, 2399, in Ausitis, a region of Asia, on the afFaira of 
Holy Job, under the presidency of a Hierarch of the superior 
Angels." These are followed by an account of eleven other Old 
Testament Synods, one of which is, "The S^nod of Jesus Christ in 
Ctesarea Philippi, to designate St. Peter as ma Vicar, and Poutifei 
of the whole Church, in a.d. 33." All such puerile attempts to 
maguify the number and importance of couneUs have been prudently 
avoided by Dr. Hefele, and he has chiefly confined himself to the 
genuine councils of the Church. 

The first volume brings ua down to about the year 380 of the 
Christian era, and the second to the middle of the sixth century. 
The third volume continues the record to the death of Charlemagne, 
in A.D. 814, and is not inferior in interest and execution to its prede- 
cessors. It contains valuable information as to the syuodical action 
of the Church on the subjects of monoth elitism, image-worship, 
adoptionism, and other questions more or less debated during the 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Notices of Books. 173 

period over which it extends. Nor ia it merely the general and 
other well-known eoimcilB alone which are enumerated; accounts 
more or less detailed are given of all the synodal aasemblies of which 
traces have been found. Some of these councils relate to questions 
of present interest. Many may be all but ignorant of the merits of 
the discussions which waxed so violent on such abstruse questions as 
monothelitism and adoptionism : the monophysites md many other 
heterodox disputants trouble us httle now-a-days ; but it is some 
concern of ours whether the worship of images forms au integral 
part of the Chriatiau religion, since the largest section of Christ's 
profesBed followers upholds the doctrine, and maintains the practice. 
Besting upon the Bible, and upon the genuine records of the Church, 
we repudiate image- worship, as a vestige of idolatry ; but it will not 
be in vain for us to read and ponder the narrative of the fierce con- 
flicts which were carried on for many years in the eighth century 
on this very question. There is, therefore, a present and a practical 
value in such works as that before us, and this alone is sufficient to 
recommend them. 

We can attempt no analysis of Dr. Hefele's book. It abounds 
in details which are derived from all available sources, and the author 
reasons upou the evidence which he adduces. It is needless for ua 
to disclaim all sympathy with his Bomish prejudices, but the &ct 
that he is not without them ia one reason whv we recommend his 
book. There can be no doubt that he says all he honestly can in 
favour of his own system, but we have felt that neither he, nor any 
one else can discover a good foundation for doctrines and practices, 
of which not a vestige can be found in the New Testament, nor in 
the Church of the fimt three centuries. 



Brotherly Coii/MeU to Studenta. Four Sermons preached in the 
Chapel of St. Catharine's College, Cambri.^. By the Eev. 
Feancis J. Jameson, M.A., Fellow and Assistant Tutor of St. 
Catharine's College, late Fellow of Gbnville and Cains CoDege. 
Cambridge and London : Macmillan. 1859. 

These discourses have an interest beyond their intrinsic excellence 
in the fact that they are the first products of a movement in the 
University of Cambridge, by which her efibrta to promote the highest 
interests of her alumni are extended. Whatever advantages of 
another kind may be supposed to belong to other universities, whether 
at home or abroad, our two English Universities are the only insti- 
tutions of the kind among Protestants whose system is mainly 
directed to the mental and moral training of young men just enter- 
ing upon the battle of life. During the three, or at most four, short 
years which are spent at any university by the majoril^ of students, 
it is absurd to suppose that they can be fumished with knowledge 
even in a selected group of studies. Either they have come up with 
minds already prepared with the elements of such knowledge as baa 



D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



174 NoiicEs of Bookt. [October, 

been deemed most important in the Beminariea through which they 
have passed, or it muat be in afber life, when special tastes or inter- 
eats Hare given a special direction to their pursuita, that their intel- 
lect can be stored with ripe attainments. AVe believe it would be 
found by those who have the meana of making a iitir comparison 
that the Byatem of our two En^liah universities, where the studies of 
the men are under the direction of a united body, working harmo- 
niously, is more favourable to intellectual results than in other insti- 
tutions of the kind, where a more impoaing array of professors are 
each offering and recommending his intellectual wares to the taste of 
purchasers. 

It w, however, in the training of the youth committed to their 
care that our universities are quite unnvalled. It is this which 
enables them to point with thankfiilneBa — not to individuals who 
were specially endowed, and whose eminence has been self-created 
— but to a mass of men who have been the ornaments and the 
stay of the community — among the gentry, the magistrates, and 
the various professions — whose united influence has given its 
acknowledged character of eminence to the upper portion of British 
society. 

It is the tutorial element of our universitieB which has secured 
to them theae advantages. Each particular college is a family of 
which the Tutor is in loeo parentit, and in which those of his brother 
Fellows who are best qualified lud in carrying out his plans. But it 
is a parish of which he or they are the ministers. The college chapel 
is the place of meeting for family ^^yer, and it is the parisu church 
of the college as a congregation. It is therefore quite in the spirit 
of these arrangements and of the entire system that all the means of 
CTace should be there dispensed. The sermons preached at the 
tlniveraity Church have, at least of late years, been excellent in their 
way; but they can be no adequate substitute for those patloral 
ministrations which are specially required by underg^^uates, and 
which none are so qualified to afford as those who are ia daily inter- 
course with their hearers, and have a paternal interest in their wel- 
fere. These college sermons, however, will probably be so arranged 
as not to interfere with the university exercises, and if they are 
judiciously adapted to the audience may he attended with blessed 
results. Mr. Jameson says : — 

" There i* a large number of joung men who come up to the muverrity from 
our public schools and from joany a rehgiously conducted home ; and among 
theee, I believe, thai Uiere ore man; <rbo desire and valuo some such Bpiritual 
guidance amidat the peculiar dilCculties and temptations which they have to 
enoouiiter when tbej commenoe their academic course, a^ thoy have been accus- 
tomed to receive in previous stages of their life. I know of no persons to whcan 
they mav more naturally looli: for suoh guidance than the Master and Fellows of 
their college, and of no opportunity more suitable for offering the caunsel needed 
than when aH the members of the sodelj assemble (and may the day be far dis- 
tant when they shall cease t« do eo !) as one ChristiBn brotherhood in the ohtq^ 
which, attached to each college, is a witness of ite holy character and purpose." 

Such ministrationa we may remark are even more important for 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Notkea of Books. 175 

those who hare not been religiously resred, and by Ood'a blesrisg 
the college ch^)el may to Buch become the birth-place of a religioiu 
life. We can open this volume nowhere without finding matter 
which BhewB the Kindly earaestneBS of the preacher's heart. With- 

out selection we give the following: — 

" Iiet one take the subjetit of Advent Sunday, tli6 future appeimuw of our 
great God and Saviour JeauB Christ, at the gnnind of exhortEttion to greater 
vigour and eamestness in preeent and future duty. Is (here not room for an in- 
treaee of Yigour and earnestness as regards the present ? Oh, my brothers, that 
I eould persuade you all to look upon the eta^ of life through which you are 
now paasii^ in the light of your Lord's coming. When He shtJl come, it may be 
that He wul iiutdtute a stricter search into this period of your eiistenoe than 
into any other, that He will deal with it as the ^me of greatest privilegee, the 
time of moat special probation. Then deem it so now yourselves. When term 
after term has slipped past, aod the final intellectual trial has oome, let not that 
trial merely waken useless regrets that you had not made better preparation Ibr 
it, and cause you t^i look back upon years of opportunity never to be reeaUed, 
and as you feel that in them yx)u have made no intellectual or moral improvement, 
to eigh over them as " the concisions of a wasted youth." And when these few 
years of college life are over, supposing them to have been spent c<»isGiontioualy 
■ad profltably, and you have to enter on other and more practical spheres, stiS 
let the thought of your Maker's coming be a motive to activity ; let it make you 
gird up your loins for any task that may be before you, and keep ever burning 
(hose lamps, whether of mental culture or of spiritual knowledge, whioh you 
lighted here. As you say farewell to this your temporary home, ere jou leave 
the quiet waDs witmn which you and the friends of perhaps all your future lifb 
have studied together, where you have watehed the characters of others and 
fbrmed your own, oh, make a vow before God whoee servant you are, and whose 
eje of Borutiny you will have to meet, that the life on which you are entering 
shall uot be a useless idle life, that you will not pass off from the world and the 
world be no better for your presence on it, that you will not live for self merely, 
but for God and your fellow man, that yon will not bear the name of Christ, and 
yet do nothing to adorn his truth, to maintwn his honour, to exalt his kingdom ; 
tliat you will labour diligently in the duties of your poet, nor weary of your task, 
whatever it be, till he shall bid you cease who appoints your work, and who holds 
in his right hand the orown of laithful service." 



What i* Revelationt A series ofSermotu on the Ep^hany ; to vhich 
are added Leliers to a Student of Theology on the BoJtytlon Lec- 
tures of Mr. MaweU. By the Rev. Frederick Denison Mackicb, 
M.A., Chapltun of Lincola'a Inn. Cambridge and Loudon: Mac- 
millan. 1859. 
We have endeavoured to gather from the aermone which form the first 
part of this volume what Mr. Maurice's anawer positively is to the 
question, " What is Revelation?" But on this as on most subjects 
•bout which Sir. Maurice's eloquence ranges, he avoids everything 
like definition so as to make it extremely difficult to put his theory into 
any form of words. The most which can be clearly made out is, that 
what the theological world has ever meant by Revelation ia not the 
revetatiou of Mr. Maurice. At least from the time when the Canon of 
Scripture was determined, which the church has regarded aa a depo- 
sitory of truths which eye had not seen, nor ear heard, nor man's heart 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



176 Notices of Books. [October, 

devised, but which God had revealed to Hia apostles and prophets; 
the church aod all who have followed her teaching have been in error 
on this subject. Aod now, in this matter and all others which depend 
upon it, the old foundations are giving way, to vanish soon like the 
" baHelesa fabric of a vision," while Mr. Maurice declares the exis- 
tence of something which has not been and cannot be commonicated to 
ears of flesh and blood, — of upfnjra pt/fiaTa, — to be the only true re- 
velation, and which is more copious in its communications and more 
certain in its truths than all the TreirKripoipopTifKPa of former times. 
Until, however, it can be shewn that this professed revelation is capa- 
ble of being revealed — until it " can be distinctly apprehended as ex- 
isting in any man's own conscious ness, or can be communicated to 
others by means of language," it is beyond the reach of direct criti- 
cism, and cannot *' be available for the purposes of religious criti- 

Indeed the question " What is Revelation," ceases to be Mr. 
Maurice's real subject after the first of these sermons. Mr. Mansel'e 
Bampton Leetures had been preached in the mean time, and the 
remaining sermons are chiefly directed against what Mr, Maurice has 
rqtresenled as Mr. Mtuisel's teaching. And as this is the professed 
sahject of the " Letters to a Student of Theology," we shall dismiss 
the sermons and attend Mr. Maurice through a portion of his strictures 
on the Bampton Lectures. 

We remind those of our readers who may not have examined these 
Lectures that the declared object of inquiry is, " Does there exist in 
the human mind any direct faculty of religions knowledge by which 
in its speculative exercise (the italics are onrs) we are enabled bo decide 
independently of cdl external Revelation, what is the true nature of God, 
and the manner in which He must manifist Himself U> the world, and 
by which in its critical exercise we are entitled authoritatively to 
decide for or against the claims of any professed revelation, as con- 
taining a true or a false representation of the Divine nature and attri- 
butes?" Now it is obvious that Mr. Manscl means by revelation what 
is commonly understood by that term, viz., a knowledge of Divine 
things which has been imparted to men otherwise than by the deduc- 
tions of human reason, — which may affirm authoritatively some of 
those deductions and correct others, more or less diverging from the 
truth, but which contains at least some things which had not entered 
int« the heart of man. 

The Grecian philosophy with all its claims"to be called 'Divine, 
did not profess to be a revdation ; it desiderated .just that which Mr. 
Mansel here speaks of under that term. The German philosophy, 
with still greater pretensions, distinguishes itself from all such revela- 
tion, and sometimes denies the possibility of it. 

Now the question which Mr. Mansel proposRs as the subject of his 
inquiry has been confidently answered so as to qffirm the power of the 
human mind to solve all problems relating to the Deity, Hia attri- 
butes and His relations to the human nature ; and since the time of 



D5,l,r..cb,.COOl^lC 



1859.] Soticei nf Booh. 177 

Kant a whole literatare ban arisen founded on this assnmplion. A 
degree of reaction indeed has, it appears, taken place in Germanj, and 
rationalism — to use that word in its widest sense — " is not the predo- 
minant phase of theological speculation ;" but it still underlies the spe- 
cnlations of many writers who do not formally assume it as a principle, 
and in our own country the effect of it has lately become increasingly 
apparent. 

To those wbo are at all acquainted with the history of such specu- 
latioQs it is obvious that, whatever philosophy may oltimatety achieve, 
the powers of the human mind have in fact never yet succeeded, by 
their speculative exercise, iu solving the great problems relating to 
the Divine Nature, or in reducing the difSculties which have always 
belonged to that subject. The history of this philosophy exhibits " a 
vast variety of contradictory attempte destructive of each other, and 
this does most naturally discourage the very idea of the possibilily of 
a satisfactory solution of the problems proposed" by the methods 
which have been thus pursued. What then would be more natural 
than to criticise these methods themselves, and to consider on what 
account it is that they have failed? To ordinary minds it might 
seem a matter of wonder that any man should ever have supposed that 
the finite c»uld comprehend the Infinite. " Who by searching can 
find out God — to perfection," implies, if not a Divine caution, at least 
the common conviction of ordinary men. But among ourselves at 
least those who have most considered the powers of the human mind 
and have been foremost in the exercise of them, are those who have 
most earnestly insisted on the necessity of recognizing the limitation 
of them, and some, like Bishop Butler, have regarded it as one of the 
most important objects of true philosophy to demonstrate those limits. 
We believe that most people who have examined Mr. ManseVs 
Batnpton Lectures have recognized the identity of his object with that 
of Bishop Butler, while many have rejoiced to have the subject so 
ably revived and discussed by methods more adapted to the wants of 
the age. 

Now, Mr. Maurice declares that what Mr. Mansel means by Re- 
velation is in accordance with him ; he professes to be in harmauy 
with the church of which he is a minister; he professes to be a disci- 
ple of Butler, and yet he has felt himself called npon to denounce 
these lectures with a vehemence for which no rational account can be 
given. 

His criticisms, such as they are, are contained in Letters to a Stu- 
dent on Theology, and he very naturally says, " I could not hope that 
learned doctors would listen if these questions were proposed to them. 
I have some confidence in proposing them to young men who are 
entering upon the battle of life." But we think the most inexperienced 
of his pupils must be led to suspect from these very addresses to them 
that he is anything but a safe guide. They can hardly fail to per- 
ceive the gross misconceptions which pervade his book and vitiate all 
he says. For instance, Mr. Mansel bad said that man cannot by the 



VOL. X.— NO. XIX. 



^byCOO^^IC 



178 Notices of Books. [October, 

specnUtiye exercise of his facnUaes invent ft philoBophv of the Infinite ; 
he hsd said to Mr. Maurice himself, in terms which there was no ex- 
CDse for miBunderstanding, " We must at any rate admit that man does 
not know God as God Ifnows himself, and hence that he does not 
know Him in the fulness of His absoluU nature." And yet Mr. 
Maurice everywhere represents the Bampton Lectures as mtdntaining 
that neither by reason nor Revelation is it possible for man to obtain 
any knowledge at all of the Deity. In the very first page of Mr. 
Maurice's bcmk we have a specimen of this strange misapprehcnBion. 
In referring to Mr. Mansel s words, that he had never maintained 
" that Revelation is or can be a direct manifestation of the Infinite 
Nature of God," Mr. Maurice says, I have understood him to maintain 
just as fie stales the very reverse of the doctrine that Revelation means 
a direct manifestation of the Natvre of Qod! where by dropping tie 
word Infinite, as though it were merely otiose, he has excluded the 
whole question in dispute. This might have been an inadvertency 
just there, to be corrected afterwards ; hnt we find that Mr. Maurice 
has persisted in this misrepreaeutation, putting it in every variety of 
form without once betraying the least consciousness of his blunder and 
injustice. Thus in speaking of Jesus Christ as the manifestation of 
God he exclaims, " Do our Doctors admit that He came into th« 
world in very deed to sheio man of the Father* Alas! in the vray 
highest quarters of English theology we are taught a doctrine the very 
reverse if this. The only way, we are told, to confate Rationalism, to 
establish Christianity, is to affirm that God cannot be known ; that man 
is prohibited by his constitntion from seeking such knowledge I" 

On this ground Mr. Maurice opens his argument with attempting 
to scare his young Mend hy creating a violent prejudice, setting before 
him the sacrifices which must be made if this doctrine of Mr. Mansel 
is to be received. Thomas i. Kempis is " a victim who must at once 
be sacrificed." " His crime consists in his assuming that there is a 
Kvine Teacher of man's spirit." " The Jansenists must give up all 
their great authors, the Puritans the best of theirs." We must give 
up Leighton, St. Augustine, the Schoolmen, Luther ; we must give up 
the creeds, the prayer-book, and the like ; for the authors refm^ to 
all taught that the knowledge of God was possible, while the " creeds 
profess to tell us something certain abont die nature of God," and the 
prayer-book contains such phrases as these, " We who know thee now 
by foith," " in knowledge of whom standeth on;" eternal life ;" and Mr. 
Maurice exclaims, " How much must the lecturer tremble at the 
thought of our nsing such phrases as these ; what hypocrisy must be 
involved in such language — what hypocrisy must be propagated in 
our congregations — if we have thoroughly persuaded ourselves that to 
know the Infinite and Eternal is impossible 1" It is quite unnecessary 
to characterize by a single word this way of talking. 

The second letter relates to Sir W. Hamilton, to whose writidgs 
Mr. Mansel had referred as containing the true theory of the limits of 
human thought. Mr. Maurice charges his young &iend " at all events 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Notieet of Books. 179 

not to atndy Sir WilUam Hamilton in the pages of hiB Oaeford Dud- 
pk." But Mr. Manrice doee not attempt to shew that Mr. Maneel has 
in 807 way tnisreprmented Sir Williaia — and we really cannot find 
for what reason this cautioR is given unless It be that according to 
Mr. Mansel'it estimate of that phUoBopher he is not contemptible; 
accordingly, after talking aboat Sir William with his nsnal Tagueness, 
in the midst of which, however, one thing is plain, that by Mr. 
Maurice's own shewing Sir William's principles are exactly those 
which the Barapton lecturer has stated and developed, he proceeds to 
explode Sir William by the merest clap-trap. Referring to Sir W, 
Hamilton's aecount of what he regarded as the fulure of Cousin, and 
citing bis principle that " the unconditioned is incogniuble and incon- 
cHvable, its notion being only negative of the conditioned," Mr. Man- 
rice talks as follows : — 

" The m«re Htatement of so eminent a man as Sir William Hamilton, that 
tbase eiperimenta are utterly anieosODabla, would of course carry groftt weight 
with i^oraut people lihe yon and me. Bot, moreover, how mach there ia in 
our minds whiuh seconds his decision 1 He appeals directly to our common 
sense. He asks whether the ootion of thought passing beyond the boandaiies 
of thought is not absurd upon the face i^ it--wheth«r we can conceive the in- 
livable — whether wa can know that which we do not conceive? Set such 



questions befnre any nnmber of civiliied persons — say in a London drawing' 
room — and what answer would you expect but just as much laughter as the 
courtesies of society permitted? What need, as Sir W. Hamilton sometimes 



asks himself— and Mr. Monsel ,/rejuen% echott him — of debating the point? 
Is it not like entering into controversy with lunadca ?" 

Without having Sir W. Hamilton's Essay on this siibjeot at hand, 
we do not give the slightest credence to the existence in it of any 
appeal like this to the apprehensions of the vulgar ; it wo^d be incon- 
sistent with the gravity vrith which he has entertained the question as 
proposed by him, and the elaborate reasoning with which he has dis- 
CQssed it ; and with regard to Mr. Hansel, we lmou> that there is not 
a word in his Lectures which affords the slightest excuse for Mr. 
Manrice's representation. But when Mr. Maurice is capable ef inter- 
preting men's words in the following way we have lost all confidence 
in him as an interpreter. Sir William, in giving the history of philo- 
sophy, remarks, as cited by Mr. MaoHce, " From Xenophaues to Leib- 
nitz, the Infinite, the Absolute, the Unconditioned, formed the highest 
principle of speculation ;" " in other words" says Mr. Maurice, " irom 
the beginning of the moat earnest Grreek philosophy, the most thought- 
fill snd vigoroos mtnds were devoting themselves to that pursuit which 
it would seem that only madmen can engage in !" Again, " the kind of 
ridicule which Sir William Hamilton has poured upon such inquiries, 
waa poured upon tbem in every age. Schelling knew such jokes from 
his boyhood ; H^l must have learnt them from doctors and jesters, 
old and new." ife speaks of the fierceness of Sir W. Hamlton's con- 
tempi for some scientific men, of these being the wcfwn* of his scorn, 
and the like. We strongly suspect that all this "madness," "lunacy," 
"ridicule," "fierce contempt," etc., are the mere creations of Mr, 
Maurice's own bnun, soggested by no single expression to be found 



r^j,ilM-,.C00^^lc 



180 Noiicea of Books. [October, 

in Hamilton J as we know is the case with regard to Biimlar things 
which Mr. Manrice has said abont Mr. Mansel. 

The subject of the third Letter is Eishop Butler, lie is meDtioued 
with warm eucoiaium by Mr. Manftel, and Mr. Maurice ieels himself 
called upon to qualify this estimate. But it would really appear from 
what he says about the Analogy, that he has never perceived the drift 
of it, and that his oljections to it arise from those miBConceptiona to 
which he has shewn himself so liable. He denies that Batler haa any- 
where alluded to the limits of thought of which Mr. Mansel speaks ; 
and he ennmeratea various objections to it which must stand in the 
way of its reception at O^ord. From hia own experience he tells us 
what a man who begins to think seriously is likely to feel on recorring 
to BuUer :— 

*" Ha feels what can only be described as a bitter disappointmeiit ; he may 
porsoe the study as a school task ; he may prepare himaelf far an examination 
m the Analogy ; bnt all sympathy with it is gone. He does not understand its 
nomenclature. The reliffion which it speaks of does not look like the religion 
with which he is oconpied in his closet. He begins to regard it as an outward 
thing nbich has acquired, unfortunately, the same name with it. The Analogy 
appeals to himself; and yet it talks abont nature, and a constitution of nature, 
with which he, the simisr, <uui recognize no fellowship in which ho has the least 
possible interest. It merety introduett the Bibie at eontaiiwag certam dijientiia 
lUct tkote in Ait eonitittOion of Nature." 

But while the Analogy is thus no book for the serious thinker, it 
is hailed with delight, according to Mr. Maurice, by sceptics, " See, 
say they, what Bntler teaches us respecting probability as the guide 
of human life; see how he admonishes us tbat we ought to take the 
safer course, even if the argumentt in favour of a more dangerous otk 
actuallg predominate I Wise and excellent counsellor I What can we 
do better than apply his maxim In determluing whether we shall 
accept or reject any of the traditions of our fathers ? 

We will not waste words in shewing how frivolotts all sueb objec- 
tions are ; they have never been advanced by any one who has In the 
slightest degree attended to the aims and arguments of Bbhop Batler ; 
and in fact all which Mr. Maurice says on this subject exhibits the 
same misapprehension or unfiumess which everywhere appears to 
vitiate his statements. 

In coining to the Bampton Lecturer himself in the fourth Letter, 
Mr. Maurice Incontinently resorts to the dodge of gross misrepresenta- 
tion. He declares that Mr. Mansel's first Lecture is a " denunciation 
of two emls, to which he supposed that his hearers were exposed." 
The fact is, Mr. Mansel commences with a lucid statement, in which 
he classifies various systems of religions thought under the two deno- 
minations of Rationalism and Dogmatism, pointing out a principle 
which is common to both. There is nothing in the use of these tenas 
which would be objected to even on the part of those who recognized 
their own systems as ranged under one or other of these denomtnatioos. 
And Mr. Mansel, in this classification, is so far from using these terms 
as terms of reproach, that he does not pass any critical judgment on 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] Notices of Books. 181 

either till he comes to discnaa them. Yet Mr, Maurice has chosen to 
make out of this a "denunciation of two evils," a coTidemnaiion, a 
theological proscription I And as Mr. Mansel has given in his notes 
the names of some who have been distinguiahed as belonging to oae or 
other of these diriaions, with illustrations from their writings : Mr. 
Maurice has been at the pains to collect these names and array them 
before his reader, for the soke of declaiming as follows ; — 

" I have collected it (this list], th&t T may Bnsgeat the qoestion which most 
coDcemB QB : How are you and I lo be delireied from theae curaei of Dogmatism 
and Rationaliam which we know, upon aach high authority, are always threat- 
ening na ? Snppoae yon agree that all those whom the Hampton Lectuier cats 
off as exceediog on this side or that, or as mixiog the two evils in one, are 
guilty of the ckargea brought against them ; Bnppoaing yon had the opportonity 
which be possessed, of telling a large congregation that anch and such men 
were DogmatiBtB, aach and Bnch RationalistB, and that ndther were in the least 
free from the enormitiea of the other, — would that he an absolute aecniity aguust 
any taint of Dogmatism in yourself?" 

And for Mr, Manael's own admonitiott he cites the text,""Ca8t 
first the beam ont of thine own eye ; then shalt thou see clearly to 
take the mote out of thy brother's eyel" There is, however, a good 
sense, it appears, in which a man may be a dogmatist, viz., " whenever 
he swears with deliberate purpose that something is, and that from 
that no man or devil shall tear him away;" whether in a good or a 
bad sense, however, Mr. Maurice confesses that he is thinking of some- 
thing quite different Irom what Mr. Mansel means by Dogmatism. 
'^I know," he aays, "that Mr. Manael's account of Dogmatism most 
strike every one as far more profound and philosophical than mine ; 
but I am thinking of it as a great sin which I have to avoid for the 
sake of my own being, — as a great moral habit which I must preserve 
for the sake of my own being." 

" Well and with regard to Rationalism !" Mr. Maurice has hia 
own peculiar notion of this, and a curious one it is. It ia an evil 
habit of mind which Mr. Maurice illnstratea from his own experience : 

" I have listened to the words of some wise man, a lecturer on Moral Science, 
it might be, or on physical. I have heen asking myself the reason of his state- 
itientB ; / have not had my ears open to Ittten to what he said, just because I waa 
busy with that qneation. I have looked at a picture which other people admired, 
which it would have done me good to admire, and have asked for the reruon lehg 
I should admire, and that occupation of mind made it impoBsible for me to re- 
ceive any hleasing from the picture." 

That is, Mr. Manrice has been in the habit of wool-gathering, when 
he ought to have been attending ; or of " looking into vacancy," as he 
himself allows, when his thoughts and his senses ought to have been 
intent upon what was before him. This is just as rational aa if a man 
who had a good repast set before him were to turn his stomach by 
puzzling himaelf about the reasons why he should enjoy it like other 
people. And yet he believes this account of Rationalism wonld have 
been pronounced the honest and reasonable one by Butler and HamiltonI 
To ua it suggests a medical definition which we have lately seen of 
haUucineition. 



D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



182 Notices of Books. [October, 

It appears, however, that Mr. Manriee feels fainraelf rationally jus- 
tified in thns withdrawing his thoughts, not only when matters of 
science or objects of taste are Bet before bim : that it is rational thna 
to sbat his ears when a lecturer is demonstrating, or his eyes when a 
pictore is wooing his admiration : bat also that it is rational and right 
to do the same when heavenly trnth a are declued by Divine authority. 
Is not this too much like the case described by tbe prophet of those 
whose eara and eyes were closed so that they understood not with the 
heart P On this ground, however, Mr. Maaric« enters into a long jus- 
tification of his rejection of Scripture anthority in regard to the " re- 
vealed doctrine of Christ's Atonement for the atns of men," to which 
Mr. Mansel had referred in these terms in illustration of the Dogmatic 
and Bationalistic methods. He treats tbe direct statements <^ Scrip- 
ture on that subject as an " opinion " which God had tat^ht him to 
doubt, while his own one-sided scheme in what he swears never to re- 
linquisji. " Is this heterodox doctrine ?" says he ; " because if it is, 
it is what I mean, so help me Ood, to live and die in declaring to those 
to whom I minister." 

Hitherto Mr. Maurice has been entirely occupied in endeavouring 
to damage Mr. Mansel by raisrepreaenting him in matters which have 
no immediate connexion with tbe subject of the Lectures. In bis fifth 
Letter he professedly enters upon what he calls tbe objects of the 
second Lecture. But here again we have exactly tbe same disregard 
of what the Lecturer means, and of what be distinctly saya, as we 
have abeady been pestered with. The terms " philosophy of religion " 
are no invention of Mr. Mansel ; they are perfectly familiar to those 
in reference to whom, and to those for whose sake his subject was un- 
dertaken, and tbeir meaning well underatood. But this meaning is, in 
fact, immediately given by Mr. Mansel, when he says such a philo- 
sophy may be attempted in two methods ; either by a scientijie exposi- 
tion of the nature of God, which is the method of Rationalism ; or by 
a scientific inquiry into the constitution of tbe human mind, so far as 
it receives and deals with religions ideas. And here Mr. Maurice has 
no sooner heard the words "philosophy of religion," than be bogine to 
boggle in his usual way; his "ears are no longer open to what the 
Lecturer is saying." "What is philosophy?" "What is religion?" 
are questions on which be fises, and becomes quite unconscious of all 
explanations on the subject which the Lecturer is giving. But when 
Mr. Maurice somehow catches tbe words which convey the idea that 
tbe phenomena of our own minds, our thoughts, may be studied ; when 
he hears the Lecturer say, " We are compelled in the first instance to 
inquire into tbe origin and value of those tbougbta themselves," he 
laughs outright at the idea of a man's thinking aAout /as own thoughts ! 
What will our readers think about tbe following piece of criticism from 
the " Lecturer of Lincoln's Inn?" 

" The roligions philosoph? which is annonnood in this programmB is eipresdy 
designed to deliver ua from the absurdities and raTiQgB of Myatics and Kational- 
ists. Now I aak yon to make this experiment with any English gentleman you 
know. Set before him Mr. Mansel's purpose, not in my words bat bis; choose 



.byCOOl^lc 



1869.3 Notice! qf Books. 188 

the ■•««( whieiited man ^OB <M<iU.riiu^ in the Englieh Benae of the word ' educated ;' 
try him with Hr. Uansel's acconnt of hia religious phllosopby, and tell ma if he 
does not make lome euch observationB as these upon it, ' Why, my good Sir, 
yon know that this is jmit what I abominate in tboae Teatonic dooturB and 
oiriiieB. Thaj seem to me to be always thinking abont their own thoi^hts. I 
cannot open one of thelc books withont finding something aboat the Bemffat 
this, or the Begriffoi that; moat of all, they torment me with their Begr^ of 
Religion. What do we want of any Begriff We who are tossed about in the 
world want a God. Tell us of Him if yon can. If you oaanot, hold your peace. 
The other thing, or nothing, we do not need at all.' " 

If Mr. Maurice thua laugbs to scorn the very idea of our thinking 
sbont our own tboagfats, i. e., of the phenomena of the mind being an 
object of the mind's ohsorvation,-— without which how shall conscience 
pass its judgments on crimes of the heart ? — we cannot expect from him 
any attempt to listen when Mr. Manael is engaged in inTeatigations of 
SQch phenomena which are necessarily abstruse, and especially in en- 
deavouring to exhibit the confusion of thought which arises when 
thought is unnaturally exercised. 

In the philosophy, the claims of which Mr. Manael is investigating, 
"there are," ho says, "three terras 'familiar as household words,' " 
which must be taken into account in every system of metaphysical 
theology. To conceive the Deity as He is, we must conceive tfim as 
First Cause, as Absolute, and as Infinite. These terms he proceed» to 
define according to an acceptation of them conventional in that philo- 
sophy, and then to argue upon this definition of tbem. It is really 
quite amusing to see how Mr. Maurice starts off at the first words of 
this statement, there are three t&'ms, without stopping to listen to 
what ibllowB, He talks about this paragraph' after dting it as follows ; 
" Will yon read over to yourself the first line of this passage ? ' there are 
three iermii " familiar as household words " in the vocabulary of this Philosophy.' 
These are key words to the after discourse. It is with the temu. First Cause, 
Absolute and Infinite, that Mr. Manael deals hers and throughout hia Tolume. 
Terms are all in all to him. To get beyond terms is with him impoaaible. 
' Words, words, words,' do not drive him mad as they did poor Hamlet; they 
entirely satisfy him. He does not deny that there is something beyond them, 
something which they express. There is a region of mist and darkness, what 
be considers the region of Uth, which cannot be put into formalaa of logic, and 
therefure about which nothing can be Icaown, which we have no criterion for judg- 
ing of. But within this circle lies his world, and any one who tries to find a 
ground for his feet outside of that world, ia for him a iool if he can redoes him 
under the notion of a Dogmatist, a dangeroas disturber of men's serenity if he 
can bring him onder the notion of a Rationalist." 

We think our readers will by this time perceive that Mr. Maurice 
has himself afi'orded the means of accounting for his strange obliquities 
of judgment, — for the fact that he never seems to understand, or 
always misrepresents, not only his author, but every one of whose 
sentiments he speaks — in the very peculiar kind of Bationalism which 
he acknowledges. No matter who is talking, or on what subject ; no 
matter whether it be the voice of an earthly teacher, to whom all 
others listen with respeet, if not with approbation ; or a voice from 
heaven, which demands his attention ; that attention he cannot give. 
The firat words be bears sends hU thoughts elsewhere ; he closes his 



...CbyCOO^^IC 



184. Notices of Books. [October, 

eyes, he stopa his ecm, or he looks into vacancy ; and then he pours 
forth a stream of I&ngnage which has no relation to the matter in 
hand, and which shews by its v^ae obscurity that he has not under- 
stood himself; that he has in fact been the subject of a state of mind 
which can "neither be distinctly apprehended nor intelligibly commn- 
nicated." To call this myaticiem is an abuse of terms. The mystica 
had clear ideas, ideas derived from the Spirit of God ; but as He had 
caused them to be written for our learning, they uttered what they 
had been taught by the Bible and the Chnrch, only they dwelt too 
exclnsively on favorite aspects of that teaching, and they did not 
aufficietUiff acknowledge the immediate source from which their instruc- 
tion had been derived ; they referred it to the direct influence of the 
Spirit of God. But their mysticism was not characterized by dense 
obscurity. What revelation Mr. Maurice may have received of this 
immediate kind no mortal bnt himself can say. But one thing we are 
sure of, that " God is not the author of confusion," and the animus 
which this work of hie displays does not savour of heavenly origin. 
Without having been personaUy much acquainted with the writings of 
Mr. Maurice before, we entered upon the perusal of this work with a 
degree of respect fbr one who had exercised considerable influence ; 
but, we say it with sorrow, that respect, either for bis mind or bis 
spirit, has quite depart«d by our examination of this volume, and we 
shall be much surprised if it do not seriously damage bim in the esti- 
mation of the most thoughtful and earnest of his admirers. 



Memoir of the Rev. E, Henderson, D.D., Ph.D. Including fits labours 
in Denmark, Iceland, Russia, etc., etc. By Thclia S. Hekdekbon. 
London ; Knight and Son ; Hamilton and Co. pp. vi., 476. 
Db. Henderson, from bis first entrance into public life, was brought 
into circumstances so congenial with his own qualifications of heart 
and mind, and into scenes in themselves so exciting, that the most 
active part of his career belongs to a history which cannot foil of being 
deeply interesting. Though we might feel disposed to make some excep- 
tion to the style of bis biographer, as being too romantic, and to her 
method of gathering round the portrait of her beloved parent materials 
which are sometimes very distantly related to it. We can strongly re- 
commend this volume to our readers as a spirited narrative and descrip- 
tion of events and scenes which well deserve to be recalled to the 
public regard, and in which Dr. Henderson was conspicuously dis- 
tinguished. 

Mr. Henderson's advantages of mental culture in early life were 
nnasaally small, and, considering what his attainments afi^rwards be- 
came, we cannot but think that there must have been mental efiorts 
in his early youth of which bis daughter has given no account, perhaps 
for want of any record of them. However this may be, we find young 
Henderson, a^r a two years' course in an Academy for missionary 
students, in which private study was much interrupted by itinerating 



.byCOOl^lc 



1859.] Notices of Books. 185 

labours, designated, in company with Mr. Pateraon, as a migsioDftry 
to India in 1805. He was then of the age of twenty-one. Not being 
pennitt«d to proceed to British India, these two miBaioDsries sought a 
passage to Seranipore, then in the hands of the Danes, by Danish 
means, and for that puipofw proceeded to Copenhagen. Here they 
were detained for a considerable time ; but, impressed with the religions 
destitution of Denmark, they soon became actively engaged in pro- 
coring the translation and circulation of religions publiQations ; these 
efforts of theirs were so well received, and the sphere for misBionary 
exertions of this kind in Denmark and other Northern regions appeared 
to them so important, that, with the concurrence of the Edinburgh 
Society, which sent diem out, they abandoned their Indian mission, 
and resolved to onltivate the field immediately before them. 

The Danes themselves had instituted an Evangelical Society, which 
bad proposed to supply to the utmost of its means the great lack of 
copies of the Scripture among their people, and our two English emis- 
saries gladly promoted this object by procuring the aid of the British 
ftnd Foreign Bible Society. This brought Messrs, Paterson and Hen- 
derson into official connexion with the London Society, to which con- 
nexion they were indebted probably in a considerable degree for the 
commanding influence they afterwards exercised. Bnt it is evident 
that both these men were highly qnalified by their energy and tact to 
avail themselves of the advantages thus efibrded them. 

The testimony of Dr. Steinkopff, who joined them at Gottenburg 
in 1812, and afterwards stood in intimate relation with them, gives 
the conviction of his mind respecting them, and especially tbe feuings 
with which be regarded the subject of this memoir. Some extracts 
from his Reminiscmces of Dr. Henderson will succinctly convey an 
idea as to what Dr. Henderson was and did in this period of his active 
labours. After referring to facts which we have stated, he says, — 

"Their attention was drawn to the printing imd circulation of tbe Scriptures 
in the Danish, Bwedish, Finnish, Lapland, and Icelandic langnages. The latter 
attracted the special intarest of Dr. Henderson, who toot up, for s considerable 
time, bis abode st Copenhagen in order to acq^oaint himself with that intoroBtiDg 
langatiee, to lend his friendly aid in the publication of a fresh edition of the 
entire Icelandic Bible then carrpng on under the able superintendence of a 
learned Icelandic scholar, and to prepare himself for undertaking a personal 
visit to the interesting people of that island. (Iwin^ to tbe war which was 
auhappily disturbing the fnendlj relations of the Danish and British Oovem- 



met with Dr. 

Henderson ; and from our very first interview, I felt attracted to him by the 
intelligence and cultivation of his mind, and the Christian graces of his spirit. 
He reminded me of the Latin saying, ' Sana mens in corpore sano ;' there was 
something noble and dignified in his person ; manliness and firmness were ex- 
pressed in hia countenance, — his eye beamed with benevolence,— his conversa- 
tion shewed him to be possessed of enlarged views and extensive information. 
The more I saw of him, while travelling with him from Gottenburg to Helsing- 
bnrg, a Swedish fortress opposite the Danish forti6catiou of Elsinore, the more 
was I confirmed in my conviction, thai he was endowed with those very physi- 
cal and intellectual powers, and those moral and religious gnsUfioationB, which 



...CbyCOO^^IC 



186 Noiicex of Bookt. [October, 

were ipeclally raqnired in the iphers of action to which the provideiice And 
grace of God hod called him. At Helsingljurg we were joined by Dr. Patereon, 
and apeot Bii days together at a Swediah ion, calnjlv and maturely aarreying 
the vwt fleld for ipiritoitl cnhiration presenting itself to oar view in the threo 
northern kingdom! of Denntark, Sweden, and Norway; and itiU more estcDEiTely 

in the dominions of the Empeior of Rnaaia 

" We datenniijed that tin. PaterBOn and Hendorsoo flhould reBume their 
labottni in that part of Sweden and Finland which they had already so sncceaa- 
fbtly oocnpied, by the important aid rendered by them to oar ewedieh and 
Finnish brethren in the printing and circnlation of the Holy SonptnTes in the 
languages of their reapecCive cotmtries. The pleasing hope nai slao enter- 
tabed, that the DaniBh Qovenunent would allow Dr. Uenderaon to retnm to its 
capital with a Tiew to biB continuing his simple, poaeeful, and benevolent 
labours in the completion of the printing of the Icelandic Bible. This hope- 
was happily realised aoon after my arrival in Copenhagen. A (iill and free per- 

•...-.. 'inple and benevolent • 

liable conduct, genuine 
and confidence among 
all, —even the snperior claisea of society, especially the biahopa and the clergy, 
— that not only wore measores adopted for the eitablishment of a Daniib Bible 
Bociety, bat he was also eaoooraeed to undertake a personal viait to that hiehly 
interesting portion of the Danish dominions — Iceluid, — bis friends fumishine 
him with all requisite official introductions to thu civil and ecclesiastical authori- 
ties of the island ; while the 5000 copies of the Icelandic Bible, and extra copies 
of the New Testament which bad to a considerable extent been printed by the 
benevolent aid of the British and Foreign Bible Society, were forwarded in 
merchant vessels, free of eipense, to the sea-ports and factories of the island 
most conveniently situated for insuring a due and suitable distribution of the 
requisite number of copies to the varioua parishes and districts in exact propor- 
tion to their wants and necessities. Thus sanctioned and equipped, he set out 
on the 8th of Jane, 1814, on board the 'Syen,' a vessel belonging io Weaty 
PetrsuB, an Icelandic merchant, resident in Copenhagen, and commanded by 
hia brother, who did everything in hia power to provide for his accommodation 
and comfort. In this vessel were conveyed no less than 1183 Bibles, and 1668 
Mew Testaments in the loelandish language." 

The main object of Dr. Henderson was, of coarse, that stated br 
Dr. Steinkopff, to visit all parts of the island, and to make himself 
acquainted with bU classes of its people, with a view to ascertaining 
their wants in regard to the Scriptures, and to settle the best means <$ 
supplying those wants. In thia survey, occupying the greater part of 
the years 1S14 and 1815, though he had to encounter much "toil, 
fatigue and danger," he found everything to encourage him, and to 
furnish the best reward of his labours. 

But he took thia opportunity of making himself acquainted with 
the veiT remarkable natural phenomena of the island, in pursuit of 
which, in fact, his greatest toils and dangers were encountered ; the 
result of his observations was given to the public in two volumes on 
Iceland, which Dr. Steiukopff speaks of as a " truly valuable addition 
to those works previously published by men diBtinguUhed for their 
talents and learning, some of whom were natives of Iceland, others 
Danes, Norwegians and Britons." 

The development which Miss Henderson has given of this compen- 
dium of that portion of her father's labours, is full of exciting in^- 
denta, and la graphically written. After various subsequent joumey- 
ings in the Danish provinces, Mr. Henderson, at the instanoe of the 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Notices of Books 187 

London Bible Society, went, in 1817, to St. Petersbnr^, to take advas' 
tage of the tide of Imperial fevonr with which the Bible Society was 
then regarded. At this time, among other literary hononrs, the title 
of Ph.D. WM conierred upon him by the University of KieL The 
energy with which the Emperor Alexander promoted the objects of the 
Russian Bible Society at that time bore down all opposition, and it 
▼led with the British and Foreign Society in the lapgeoess of its Tiews 
and the energy of its measnres. Dr. Henderson was officially con- 
neeted with these proceedings, and rq'oiced at the prosperity which 
everywhere appeared connected with his labonrg. Unhappily, a differ- 
ence of opinion between him and the ixindon Sodety respecting the 
Tnrkish New Testament which they had pnbUflbed, led to a severance 
nf the connexion of Drs. Henderson and Paterson with that Society, 
And not long after this the Emperor either cooled in his own feelings 
respecting the objects of the Bible Society, or found it impossible to 
bear up against the opposition of the reUgions fimctionariea of his own 
people ; so that in 1825 " the Society's operations had become so limited 
that there was little or nothing to do, and no prospect of more to be 
done." The death of Alexander was the signal for a complete revolu- 
tion in Russia as regards the objects of the Bible Society. 

Dr. Henderson returned to bin own country to occupy an important 
post in the instmction of the rising ministry among the congrega- 
tionalists at Hoxton and afterwards at Highbary. New arrangements 
on the part of the body to which he belonged led to his being shelved 
in his declining years; a result to which be bowed with Chrisdan re- 
signation, though it took him and his immediate friends by surprise. 
His works on Biblical subjects were highly respectable, and few men 
have been more happy than he waa in the chief engagements of his 
life, which came to a peaceflil close at the age of seventy-four. 



Itmael; or, A Natural Hutoryof JtlamUm, and it* Relation to 
Ckrittianity. By the Eev. Dr. J. Muehleibxit Aenold, for- 
merly Church Miaaionary in Aida and Africa, and late Chaplain 
of St. Mary's Hospital, London. London ; Eivingtons. 1859, 
8vo. pp. ^2. 
The writer of this volume is qualified by his reeidence in Moham- 
medan countries to speak about hie subject with some authority. 
Many years ago, he tells us, he commenced gathering information 
during a sojourn in Egypt, Arabia, Palestine, Eaat Africa, Abyssinia, 
and more especially in India. The immediate object of the publica- 
tion is said to be " to cherish, if possible, the missionary spirit which 
has been called forth by recent events, and to place some of the 
leading truths of Christianity antithetieaUy to the falsities and per- 
versions of the Koran, so as to render the comparison available for 
actual missionary operations amon^ the numerous posterity of 
Ishmael." And we are told in the title-page that " the entire pro- 
ceeds will be given towards founding a Society for propagating the 



D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



188 Notices of Books. [October, 

OoBpel among the MoliammedaQH." These aims propitiate favour to 

the work, but we do not think it needs such an argument, but that 
it can well stand on its own merits. The hook is not free from that 
partiianship which ministers of Christianity are almost sure to 
exhibit in tneir controTeraies with opponents, nor ie it alwaye satis- 
factory in its reasonings, nor perfectly correct in its statements. 
But it is a valuable work notwithstan<£]ig, and cannot but be read 
with deep interest. 

This work is divided into two parts, the first being the NaturJ 
History of Islamism, the second, tbe contrast between it and Chris- 
tianity. The first pai^ contains eight chapters — three on Mohammed 
himself, one on the Koran, two on its plaeiariams irom Judaism oaA. 
Christianity, and two on the spread and the character of Islamism. 
Part second has six chimters, in which the deficiencea of the Koran, 
ae compared with the Holy Scriptures, are exhibited. 

In the first chapter, on the " Forerunners of Mohammed," are 
some valuable remarks on the relation of Islamism to heretical 
Christian sects. From this we will give a few sentences. 

" That the creed ot Mohammed absorbed tlie various heresies which denied 
the Divinity of Christ is evident &om the fkot that they vanish from the church 
on the rise o! Islamieni ; and it is not less reioarkable that tbey remained dor- 
mant till the thirteenth century, when Islamism sustained a &tal blow by the 
di^luUoQ or the Kahphat« Ln the year a.d. 1358. Abd^Iah hod been prooltumed 
Kaliph with these words ; ' The K^phate is reserved to one tkmilj by virtue of 
the divine decree, and shall remtun in it for ever till the end of time,' and we 
argue from this idleged prediction, that the dissolution of the Ealiphate must be 
considered a remarkable epoch in the history of Islamism ; and it will confirm 
our opinion of an intenml connection sabeisting between the heresies of Uia 
church and the oharactar of Islamism ; for it was at the breaking up of tlie Kali- 

Ehate as a pohlico-religiouB power that we recognise the first revival of the Ariaa 
eresy in the church. Ishuiusni was not indeed dtHnyed at that period, although 
in IwLng its Kaliph it loses its head. 

" After the days of St. John many antiohriets went out into the world, who 
for the space of seven centuries denied that Jesus Christ was the Son of Glod. As 
they served merely as forerunners to a still more fiital error, they naturally 
retu^ when Mobunined and his successors arose and preaded over that system 
of error which destroys the very foundation of our holy fiuth and brands the oon- 
fes^on of Christ being the Son of God as idolatry and blasphemy. 

" Islamism is originally tKyanecied witli the worst kinds of Christian heresy, but 
t« assume it t« be a Christdan heresy, as some writ«r« have done, is to take for 
granted that it sprang up within the church, and that Mohammed himself was 
an apostate from the Christian faith. The fact that Islamism served as an outlet 
or receptacle for those heterodox and anfi-Christian elements which occasionally 
arose within the church does not by any means establish the creed of MobammM 
to be a Christian sect, heresy according to its etymological signification implying 
a separation or departure from orthodox Mth and practice." 

A good deal is said about tho recent Indian revolt, hut we think 
it is scarcely fair to attribute the cruelties practised by the Sepoys 
to Mohammedism. The most horrid atrocities have been committed 
by Christians when in a state of civil warfare and excitement, as in 
France during the revolution of 1848. But we vrill let the author 
speak for himself : — 

" If any doubts had remiuned as to the Beutiments of Mohammedans towards 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Notices of Books. 189 

Christkiu, the recent ocoiuTenoee in India, Arabia, Srria, and Morocco miut 
have removed it for ever. Lest it should, however, be thought that the Indian 
SepofB simply strove to recover their national freedom, and as patriota were 
oarried beyond the point of a just resistance against foreign oppreBsion, let ua 
notice a few passages from the Koran, from which it will appear that fbej 
einiply carried out its precepte when perpetrating the most barbarous atrocitieti 
ever recorded in the anmJs of rebellion or warfare. ' But the recompense of 
those who fight agaiost Ood and his apostle, and stud; to act corruptly in the 
earth, shall be, that they shajl be ifotn, or cmcified, or \aee their hatid* and their 
feet cut ojf wi the oppcuife tidei, or be banished the laud. Thij shall be th^r 
disgrace m this world, and in the next world they shall suOer a grievous puniah- 
ment.' Again : ' I will cut off joat handi and your feet on the opposite sides, 
and I will omafy you all.' ^ g"" : ' I will cast a dread into the hearts of the 
unbehevers. therefore strilie aS their head», and strike offall the ends of their 
fimgeTM. This shall they suffer, becailse they resisted Ood and his apostle ; verily 
God will be severe in punishing. This is your part, taste it therdore, and tte 
infidels shall also suOer the torment of hell fire.' In various parts of the Koran, 
war is enjoined gainst all non-Moslemitea or Kaffers ; but what we now wish 
to establish is this, that the booh in queetion taught and commanded those 
very atrocities which were committed against Chrietima in the recent rebellion 
in India. Nor is it probable that the history of the original spread of letamism 
and its marvellous successes, after the death of its founder, will affiird us 
more favourable impressioniS touching the spirit of this terrible and wide-sprsAd 

A great many goad hints are thrown out as to the beet methods of 
getting access to the Mohammedan mind, and in this respect the 
Tolume ia a valnahle companion to the recent one of Dr. Macbride. 
Allusion is made to the dislike of controversy among the disciples of 

" Although arguments are frequently provoked by the cavils and objectjona 
of the Mohamme(kns, yet Islamism is not the creed to court inquiry, or enoou- 
ra^ a free discussion upon religious sutjects. The Arab prophet repeat«dl7 
enjoins his followers to abstain from discussions, and he makee Allah require him 
to recede from those who dispute about the Koran (Sur. vi, 65) . Argiunents 
with the Scripturalistfl are especially discountenanced (Sur. liit. 46) ; disputes are 
to be settled by imprecations on those invited to meet for argumental inq^uiry 
(Sur. iii. 66) ; discussion is postponed upon the grounds that wA would decide 
differences on the day of judgment (Sur. jiii. 65) ; a term certmnly too late for 
those in the wrong. Again we read, ' as to those who dispute concerning God, 
after obedience hath been paid him, their disputing shiL be viun in the sight of 
Iheir Lord, and wrath shall fall upon them, and they shall suffer a grievous 
punishment' ^Sur. xlii. 14). 

" The Christian missionary is not to leejt for arguments ; but where they 
cannot be avoided, he is not to shun the contest, remembering the example of St. 
Paul, who frequently ' reasoned out of the Scripture, disputing and persuading 
the things concemiug the kingdom of God.' Where discussion is entered upon 
in the like spirit of love and zeal for the Ovation of souls, we shall be guarded 
against a display of vanity in gaining a victory which may simply prove a supe- 
riority in education or philosophical acumen. The main point at issue will never 
be forgotten in the heat of contest, and controversial disputations will always on 
that account be as ihoH, as kind, and as leldom as possible (1 Pet. iii. 15). We 
shall never be drawn aside to non-essential or frivolous discusrion ; neither shall 
we be tempted to excite or wound our opponents by using harsh, satirical, and 
unbecoming expressions. Missionaries are frequently exposed to the most wanton 
insult purely with a view of provoking resentment ; but to Ml into the snare 
thus lud is to inflict an irretrievable injury to our cause." 



D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



190 NoHeea 0/ Books. [October, 

We conclude with an accoant of tbe eompilation of the Koran — 
" The KoTsu, as we now have it, is confesBedly not tbe work of Mohammed, 
but of hia followerg. On his death, his alleged revelations were found scaJFtered 
in fragments here and theie, some in tlie tiands of Halsa, one of his numenniB 
widows, others remained only in the memory of believers. Mohiumned not onlj 
omitted to compile these written fragment, but, with the exception of a few, 
he never encouraged their general circulation ; this would have precluded tke 
posabihty of his adding, altering, modifying, and recalling previous revelations, as 
oocasion roight require. That it was a common practice of the prophet to revoke 
and alter his phrenetic productions is proved by the Koran itself, as well aa by 
tTadition. On one oooaeion a verse having been redted by Mohammed to a Mend, 
who immediately wrote it down, it was the neit momiog diawvered to have 
been e^oed ; the prophet on being told of the disappearanoe of the verse replied 
that it had been ttdien back to heaven ; in other words, that he himself had obli- 
terated tbe writing. As Mohammed was not always able to destroy a condemned 
or recalled Sura, or any part (^ such, tbe many contradictioDs lUid abrogationa 
which are to be met with in tbe Koran are easily aobounted for. Commentators, 
indeed, seek to explain away many of these discrepandes ; yet, in spite of their 
ingenuity, they are compelled to admit no leas than 235 pasiages contoining hiws 
and dogmas which have been abrogated by sub.iequent Suras. Mohammed fre- 
quently made ejperiments with his heaven-sent commanda, not scnqiling to alter 
his inspired directions acGording to oiroumstances ; thus we have seen that wheD 
his ^th was greater iu the Jews and Christians timn in his Pagan oauntrymen, 
he fixed the Eebla at Jerus^om, and made other similar concessions ; bnt vbea 
the former disappointed his expectations, he altered it for Meoca, hoping to cea- 
ciliate tbe latter. The law which Mohammed had made on behalf of the Moslem 
fraternity of emigrants at Medina excluding their kindred from inheritance, ww 
repealed when they had acquired property and had token root among the original 
inhabitants. Originally Mohammed require4 two beUevers as witnesses in special 
cases ; but aftem^rds when his power increased, he declared one to be sufficient. 
Again, at an earlier period, toleration was recommended towards non-Moalem 
communities, but it was abolished in Suras of a latter date ; so long as his cause 
remains w^, the blse prophet preaches gentleness and patience under persecu- 
tion, but no sooner does ho obtain a firm footing than he proclaims death and 
destruotjon to til nonconformists. Such being Mohammed's mode of enacting 
and revoking laws and precepts throughout his prophetical career, we can. easUj 
understand that it would have been contrary to his uniform pohcy to collect all 
the manuscripts of his alleged reveUtions and to give them to the world. The 
following ciruumstance will serve as a proof that the posthumous Gollection of the 
scattered Suras depended much upon the iii«nojy of Mohammed's followers. In tbe 
engagement between the Moslem troops and the army of the rival prophet, Mos- 
silania, the most celebrated mnemonical reciters of the still uncollected Suras were 
slain, and Abubeker, fearing lest they should all be cut off, requested Zaid Ebn 
Thabat to compile the book, whose Mstory we are now to consider. Zaid there- 
fore collected all the pseudo-revelations that could bo found, written upon parch- 
ment, leather, palm-leaves, shoulder-blades of mutton, stones, and other mat«hali, 
and collated these with the Suras which the surrivorB knew by heart. It wis 
not to be expected that this compilation would be acceptable to all partiea, many of 
whom professed to be in possession of verses which were either liltogether omitted 
or differently worded in the collection ; the consequent diacord incTMsed to such a 
degree, under Kahph Othman, that he determined to remedy it by a eoup d'etat. 
Zaid was now chafed to revise Ms former collection, to omit the varia Uctioaet 
which had been retained in the first, and to make several copies of this new edi- 
tion. These were sent to the chief cttdee of the empire, with a command to Inn* 
all others then existtog. It will be seen that the ol^ect of Othman vraa to establish 
for future ages the unit^ rather than tbe purity of the text ; aad, in removing 
those discrepancies which Mohammed had suffered to exist, he not only compiled 
but reformed the Koran. As, however, the vowels and interpunctuations wne 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Notices of Books. 191 

not introduoed before tbe seoond oentucy of tbe Hedgn, when fresh diff^^ncM 
had alreadj crept into the manuscript^ the unity enforced by Othman was of 
very short duration. We eoon moot with seven different editions, possibly to 
accommodate Mohammed's assertion that the Koran was revealed in seven differ- 
ent readings. The penileiity arising from tJiese various editions \s naturally 
heightened by the conrasion prevailing in the Koran iteelf, and serves not only 
as on apple of discord unong Moslem divines, but alao baffles the most acute 
eritioism of European taeamt: 



A Choice of Pearh ; embracing a collection of the moat genuine 
ethical sentences, maxima, and salutary reflections, originally 
compiled in the Arahic, by the father of poets and renowned 
philosopher, Babbi Salomon Ihn Gabirol, and Tranelated into 
Hebrew by Eabbi Jehuda Ibn Tjbbon ; the Hebrew Text care- 
fully revised and corrected by the Eud of five MSS, Accompanied 
by a futhful English Translation, with explanatory notes and 
illustrative paraDeis selected from ancient, mediieval, and modem 
authors. By the Eev. B. H. AscHBB. London: Trubner and 
Co., Paternoster Bow. 

The translation of this work haa evidently been a labour of love 
with the author. Nothing but love for hia task could have inspired 
him with the patience which its performance required, and tbe re- 
search connected with it which it demanded. The marks of the file 
are diacemible in every sentence. The advice of the poet, novem 
prematur tn anntMit, has clearly been followed in this wort. A super- 
ficial glance at the original and the version will suffice to convince 
the reader of the extraordinary difficulties the translator had to 
encounter. Not only are the two idioms marked by characteristics 
which have hut little in common, but the language of Ibn Tibbon is 
in many places very obscure, and the reverend gentleman was quite 
right when he said that tbe Hebrew "will occasionidly be found 
somewhat harsh in its phraseology, ovring to the employment of 
Biblic^ words in a sense difierent from tbe original meaning." 
Indeed, our translator would have been justified had he, instead of 
"occasionally," said "frequently," This, at least, is the opinion we 
arrived at after the pemaal of a considerable portion of the work. 
We will quote, as a specimen of the manner in which the labour has 
performed, the second chapter, recommending itself by its 

"The tTBiTY. 
" 76. The wise man was aaked. Who is the Crwtor F He rephed. To diwnue 
a mt^ect which cannot be comprehended is fcdly, and to dispute on mattera 
beyond the power of conception is sinful. 77. He used to say, A wise man, 
chancing to enter an assembly of disputante, addressed them as follows : Tour 
argmnent will never lead to a aatiafaotory result. On being asked. Wherefore t 
he replied, A suooeesful result would imply uDMUmity of opinion." 

It will therefore not be surprising that, however felicitous the 
renderings of the translator in general are, there are yet some paa- 



...CbyCOO^^IC , 



192 Notices of Books. [October, 

sages in the version with which we do not agree. We will quote one 
or two. The 76th maxim runs thuB : 

1 D^w mip ta Jjwi ' Tvnt ^to pp ' iKfo ^^jajDTT pp * mnn tow 
Which is rendered by Mr. Aacher :— " The wise man aays. Diffidence 
is the diadem of the intelligent ; the characteristic of the fool is 
boldness ; and the reault of all diffidence is peace." Now we are 
much more inclined to translate the passage tnus : " The sage bmJ, 
The weapon of the intelligent is meekness ; the weapon of toe fool 
is insolence ; and the consequence of all meeknees is peace." It ia, 
of course, for scholars to decide whether j^ (literally horn), in this 
instance, means diadem, as the reverend gentleman trfoislates, or 
weapon, as we suggest. The 372nd runs thus : — 

and ia translated in the work before us : — " The sage observes. The 
wise find tranquillity in discovering the truth, the tranquillity of the 
ignorant is foUy." We should, however, prefer the following ren- 
dering :— " The sage said. The wise rest content when they discover 
the truth; but the fools when they meet with a falsehood. 

But the reverend gentleman has not rested satisfied with merely 
translating the work ; he has carefully edited it, and, fumisbed it 
with a body of notes which most aptly illustrate the text by parallels 
drawn from other Hebrew, classic, and modern authors. The nature 
and object of this laboiu" are thus propounded in the preface : — 

" The English translaiion was made troia ' Editio iVincaw,' which edition, 
though the b^ that oame under my notice, 19 Btill replete with errors and omis- 
sions. I have, however,, laboured to restore the text as &j as possible to correct- 
nesB, by oarefiilly collating it with five M88. from public and private libraries, by 
which I have been enabled to insert omissions and correct errors, which, through 
the negligence or ignorance of transcribers or printers, have crept into the pub- 
lished editions, and by which mauy passages, despit« the ingenuity of the com- 
mentators remained obscure and unintelligible. But although I carohilly 
compared and copied the various readings, I have made no alterations ia the 
editioo, except where the errors were of a palpable nature. The readings of the 
various MSa. I have appended in foot notes to each page, thus rendering the 
Hebrew text more int^gible to the reader than I found it. In translating 
this worlt, my chief oare ias been to make myself a^^uiunted with GSbbon's style, 
and to &iailiarize myself with his phraseology, which, from the diversity of his 
s^le, was by no means an ea^ task. I likewise collected every procurable 
cation, some translated ; I derived, however, from them but little assistance. 
Without descending into particulars, I have only to state that, as liu' as the idiom 
of the English language would permit, a faithftil version has been my principal 
aim. I laboured to avoid obscurity, and to render each sentence clear, perspicuous, 
aod brief, and te avoid a dry translation, by illustrating the work with parallels. 
Many authors are quoted that now-a-days are hut little studied, and some, 
perhaps, whose very names are hardly known. ' There is to be found a pleasure,' 
says the learned author of the Hermes, ' in the contemplation of ancient sentences 
as in the view of ancient architecture, which, though in ruins, has yet something 
venerable. The identity of ideas, and ^milee of poete and phik^phers, sepa- 
rated by space and time, must afford to the psychologist and historian important 
and interesting matter. In such notes and parallels lie hidden the hi^ry of 
poetical and philosophical views, the germ and data to the history of literature.' 

" The notes and parallels in my appendia:, which do not constitute an inoon- 



.byCoOi^lc 



1859.] Notices of Books. 193 

tidersble part in tbe present pubUoation, were colleo(«d in Vbe fallowing manner. 
When engaged in the perusal and in the study of these Tenerable remains of 
antiquify, It was mj ayslem to note down every passage in ancient, mediEeTsl, and 
even Id modern auQiors, that bore some relatJOD or ^iaiagj to Gabirol's maiims, 
or vMch might conduce to render an; passaee more lucid. And a hope is 
cherished that those passages, illustrative of ancient wisdom, as well ta those of 
the modiieval Spanish-Moorish school, will not prove uninteresting to the general 
reader onlj, but even to the learned. 'Lord Bacon,' says the learned D'Israeli, 
in his Curwritiei of Idlerature, has justly observed, that 'men of learning 
require inventories of their knowledge, as rich men have schedules of their 
Estalea.' .... Men of renown have toUowed the same course, and their names 
are still hallowed by posterity. They collected the sweets as lively bees hovering 
over the beautiful and fragrant flowerH, ' stealing aud giving sweets.' My task, 
as a translator and commentator, though laborious, was still pleasing. I only 
regret that the arduous duties of my office would not allow me leisure to avail 
myself more largely of the treasuree which the British Museum contains, which 
would have enabled me, by application and research, to trace the origin of many 
obscure passages. The proof-sheets have been carefully read and corrected ; but 
I regret that, during my unavoidable absence, some sheets went to press, and a 
few errors were overlooked, and I therefore refer the reader to the emrt* at the 
beginning of the wort." 

From these notes a good deal of information may be derived. 

We were particularly pleased by the remarks made in the I4th : — 

" He used to say, It is peculiar to the ignorant to be fettered by 
death, ^wisdom must loosen the shackles." Which is illustrated 

thus : — 

" U.— The M. and O. Ml^. read troS. The Michael ooUeotion MS. in the 

Bodleian -esh. The noun -ntc and the verb raoh are generally uaed by the trans- 
lators from Arabic into Hebrew for -unr and -vH), namely, an ' attribute,' or to 
■scribe attributes. Compare Jehudah Ibn Tibbon's translation of the Book 
Sitmah, p. 48, where we meet with the phrase art TCD- See also his traujlation 
of Sobal Halebaboth:'—nh m T^m pm a-^ma Dnwrrti tnrm TTrtcn. 'The 
•agesjmd the prophet have described Him (God) by diverse attributes ' (8ec. i., 
chap, I.). Compare also Algazali's Etiuci: rtwi erncrDn mfjv yap -mw Kitn. 
'Itis that which combines these three attributes' (p. 129), I am indebted for 
the above references to the kindness of Mr. L. Dukes. I will refer the reader 
also to a passage in Ben-iameleeh Vehanaxir, where we read : t!Wl p 'ts 
mrrmi t^ mwrui "oc Ton" trnst, 'Hence the Creator (blessed be He) can only 
be described negatively and not affirmatively' (chap. xxii.). The Talmudio and 
CtmlduJc word -co, ' boundary,* seems to convey the same meaning. The Cab- 
baUstif: term rirno might probably be derived from the same radix, and may cor- 
rectly be rendered 'atbibutes.' Alcharisi, in his translation of the Moreh Nebu- 
ehm, by Maimouides, uses this torm very frequently in the same sense we have 
given it. Compare also Smmtoth Vedeofh, bj Saadyah Gaon, book ii., at the 
oonolusion." 

We have now brought to a cloae our notice of a production 
which we consider a most valuable accesaion to the Anglo-Jewish 
hterature, and which deserves to rank with the best similar produc- 
tions, enriching from time to time the Gf^rmano-Jewisli literature. — 
(Prom the Jetmth Chronicle.) 



VOL. X. — NO. XIX. 



...CbyCOO^^IC 



194 Notice* of Bookt. [October, 

(hmmentariet on the Lawi ef tke Ancient Sehretet ; with an 

Introductory Enay on Oivil Society and Oovemmenl. Bj 

E. C. Wiiraa, D.D., Professor of Greek in Washington CoUege, 

Pennsylvania. Philadelphia: Martian. London; Nisbet. 1859. 

8vo, pp. 640. 

AxTHOUOH little known hitherto in this countrr, the work before 

UB has gained a good reputation in America, where it has passed 

through three editions. Dr. Woods, of Andover, prononocea the 

following eulogium on the lectures :— 

" I have beard all Fntemor Wines's leoturet in the Voeaia inslitntioiit, and 
have wished that the; m^M be sitended much farther. From Hie beginning to 
the end, titey exhibit marka of eitennve patient study, and of profound diaori- 
minating thought. They are, I think, sound in principle, and strong and con- 
olusive in argument. The style in which they are written is perspicuous aad 
fortuble, and often rises to animation and eloquence. The leoturea canaot fall to 
be profitable to any who love to think, but thev are especially ndnpted to be in- 
teresting to men engaged in the profession of law and theology, to the lUfferent 
classes of studeute, and most of all to those who are seeking for a clear insight 
into the Mosaic Scriptures, and who wish to see the various principles involved 
in them clearly stated, and triumjihantly vindicated against the subtle otijections 
and pro&ne sneers of infidel pbiloeopby." 

That there is much room for such a work will be admitted by all 
who are acquainted with sacred literature. The work of Michaelia 
is a monument of erudition; but it has defects of principle, and falls 
short of the knowledge and requirements of the present time. It 
will not be easily superseded, yet it does not occupy the field. 
The origin of the work ie thus described by the author : — 
" The basis of the foUowing inquiries into the polity uid laws of the ancient 
Hebrews was a course of lectures, delivered in several theolo^cal seminaries, and 
in many of the principal cities of the Unioa. Ten years ago the author was 
invited to deliver one of a course of lectures before the Mercantile Library 
Company of Philadelphia. Archbishop Hughes bad already given a lecture of 
the same course on Pope Pius VII. As the learned prelate had selected for 
eulo^ a dignitary of the Bomish Church, that circumstanoe led me to choose, 
for the theme of my discourse, a dignitary of the Chureh universal. Accordingly, 
I took " Moses and hia Laws." The lecture was well received by the puMic, and 
brought a formal invitation from many of the leading citizens of Philadelphia- 



divines, lawyers, aavana, and others— that I would eitend the diEwnssion, and give 
a series of discourses on the same subject. In making the necessary preparation 
to comply with this invitation, I became enunoured of the theme. The 



a labour of love with me. The increasing light afforded by my 
researehes led me, at different times, to rewrite and enlarge the diecussion ; till, 
at length, it came to be embodied in a very extended series of leoturea. The 
substance of these lectures, in courses more or less comprehensiTe, was given, as 
above stated, iu various theological seminaries, by invitation from the trustees 
and professors, and in many other places, at the request of citizens of the highest 
respectability. In this form, the author's illustrations of the constitution uid 
laws of Israel had the good fortune to meet the approbation of ^ntlemen, both 
in Church and State, whose good opinion might well be an object of pride to 
persons of hterarj pretensions far higher than his." 

What ie contemplated in the lectures we are told in the following 
passage: — 

"The following treatise is an attempt to analyse, aud to develope nystematj- 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] Notices of Books. 195 

oaDy the dvil polity of the inapired Hebrew lawgiver. The civil government of 
tlie ancient Hebrews wns the government of a free people ; it was a government 
of laws 1 it was a syatom of self-gOTemment. It was not only the first, hut the 
Wllj goTernmellt of antiquity to which this description is fully applicable. To 
Mosea, a man of the moat direct, firm, and positive spirit, helongs the honour of 
being the founder of this sort of government. This oon^tution was pervaded 
with popular syiopBthies and the spirit of liberty. The hest wisdom of modem 
timee in the difficult science of legislation was anticipated by Moses. The modema 
are not real discoverers ; they have but propagated and applied truths and prin- 
ciples established by tbe first, the wisest, and the ablest of legislators. In an i^ 
of barbarism and tyranny, Mosea solved the problem how a people oonid be s^- 
govemod, and yet well governed ; how man could be kept in order Mid still ba 
free ; and how the liber^ of the individual oould be reconciled with the welfiire 
of lie community." 

An " Essay on Civil Government " occupiea almost ninety pages 
of the work. The remainder of it is divided into two hooKS, of 
which the first is preliminair, treating of variona topics inferior to 
the principal, yet necesaary for its elucidation. In tnis hook Moaea 
ie considered both as a man and a lawgiver. Profane history, of the 
time of Mosea, is contrasted with his, as to credibility. His divine 
legation ia discussed and maintained. One chapter is devoted to an 
inquiry aa to the influence of the laws and writmga of Moses on the 
subsequent civilization of the world; another to a review of the 
leading constitutions of Gentile antiquity, with apecial reference to 
their power of securine civil liberty ; and » third ia on the geogra- 
phical limits and population of Palestine. From the first hook we 
wiL give an extract, on the degree of originality to be attributed to 

" It is sometimes alleged that Moses borrowed his institutioas Ih)m Egypt. 
ThLi is said for the purpose of derogating f^om his merit as a lawgiver, and eape- 
dally from his reputation as an inspired lawgiver. But from wlut fountain did 
Egypt herself, in all likelihood, druw her beat principles of law ? There is a com- 
mon fact in the history of the Hebrews and the Egyptians, hitherto so much 
overlooked, that I do not remember to have seen it adverted to by any writer, 
which, nevertheless, sheds an important light on this subject. By an extraor- 
dinary concurrence of circumstances, an Israelite, some centuries prior t« the 
age of Mcsce, had been raised to the primacy of Egypt. For eighty successive 
years Joseph swayed the destinies of that empire ; and an inspired writer has 
told us, that he taught her senators wisdom. It cannot be doubted, therefore, 
that many of the wisest miaiims of Egyptian pohcy were due to the genius of 
that illustrious minister, and to especial (uvine guiduice vouchsafed to hun in bis 
administration. 

" But suppose it to be true that some, or many, of the civil laws of Egypt 
were embodied in the Hebrew code, what influence, derogatory cither to the 
genius or the inspiration of Moses, would such a fact warrant p Did any one 
ever suppose it detracted from the merit of the Roman jurisprudence, that ihe 
twelve tables were framed by a commission which had been appointed by the 
senate fo examine the laws of other nations P And how would such a tact 
militate against the inspiration of the lawgiver 7 The Spirit of Ood mi^ht as 
well prompt him to take from the legislation of a foreign stale that which was 
valuable, and with which he and his people were already aojuainted, as to dictate 
laws entirely new, and, till then, unknown. The former is as natural and legiti- 
mate a province of inspiration as the latter. Besides, let all that is alleged be 
granted, it still remains true, that, in their fundamenbil principles, the two con- 
stitutions were the »itipodes of each other. Egypt wh b dospolism ; Judsea a 

O 2 ,- , 



196 Noticei of Books. [October, 

republic. The people of the former were slaTee ; tho people or the latter, free- 
men. Tn Egypt the prinne gorerned, or the priesthood, through the prince ; in 
Palestine, the nation. The Egyptian government was founded on force, the 
Hebrew government, on conBeni. The former was s, government of will ; the 
latter a goyemment of law. In Egypt, an iron system of caste crushed every 
opening hculty and erery generous aapiaration of man's nature ; on the banner of 
Palestine flamed, in living letters, ' liberty, equality, fraternity.' " 

Book the Becond is entitled, " Organic Law of the Hebrew 
State," and contains ten chapters. One of these is preUminary, Mid 
the last contains a aumming up of the whole. The other eight are 
on the Hebrew Theocracy, Constitution, Chief Magistrate, Senate, 
Commons, Oracle, Priesthood, and Prophets. On the Oracle, we 
find much that is important, but we can find room for only the 
following :— 

" The Oracle played a conepicuous and most important part in the eetnblidi- 
ment and administration of the Jewish theocracy. That incomparable summaiy 
of the Mosaic code, oni. of all mora! duty — the decalogue — was uttered, amid 
terrific thunderings and lightnings, from the mysterious symbol of the Divinity, 
iu an articulate voice, which reached every ear, and penetrated every heart, and 
awed every understanding, of the mighty multitude that crowded around the 
base of Mount Sinai. So also all the rest of the political, civil, moral, and reK- 
gious laws of the Hebrews were dictated by the Oracle, though they were after- 
ward, as observed by Or. Spring, in his Diicovriei on tie Obligaiumt iff t\e 
World to th« Bible, passed before and adopted by the legal assemblies of the 
nation. The Oracle, in the form of the cloudy pular, regulated the motions of 
the Israelitish armies; 'For when the cloud waa ta.l(en up from the tabernacle, 
the children of Israel journeyed ; and where the oloud rested, there the children 
of Israel pitched their tents : at the command of Jehovah they journeyed, at the 
command of Jehovah they pitched.' How fer the Oracle directed the military 
affairs of the Hebrews, plairdy appears in the history of the siege and capture of 
Jericho, In the earlier periods of the commonwealth, the Oracle was oonstantij 
appealed to on questions of civil and ecclesiastical law, in settling principles of 
stfito pohcy, and generally in afiairs of moment, appertaining to the public 
administration. 'In the time of Mosee/ observea Michaelis, 'the Oracle was 
unquestionably very conspicuous. God himself gave h(.ws to t^e Israelites, 
decided difficult points of justice ; was constantly visible iu the cloud of pillar and 
fire, and inflicted punishments, not according to the secret procedure of Provi- 
dence, but in the most manifest manner.' The constitution of the Hebrew 
judges, both higher and lower, the election of civil rulers, the cognizance of many 
eanses, some in the first instance and others on appeal, were branches of the 
sovereignty of Jehovah, as king of Israel. The use of the Oracle in deciding 
difficult cases in law is the more worthy of note, as it serves to espl^n the con- 
stitution vith respect to appeals. It was the oracle that decided the question, 
how persons defiled by a dead body should keep the Passover, Thus also Uie 
Oracle determined the question of female succession, in the case at the daughter 
of Zelophehad, And thus it was the Oracle, i^n, which decluwl the punish- 
ment of Sabbath breaking. Hence it may be seen, that the last resort, both in 
civil and criminal cases, especially when new and difficult questions were involved, 
was in the Oracle, and not in the opinion of the high priest alone, nor of. the 
judge alone, nor of both conjointly with the senate and congregation, unless they 
were fully agreed. If a difficulty arose, the last appeal was to the Oracle, on 
whose decision the high priest did not give his privitt« judgment, but the Oracle 
itself gave final judgment Id the case," 



by Google 



1859.] Notices of Books. 197 

The Protestant Theolopcal and Mcclesiastical Eneyclopiedia, heimy a 
condensed translation of Herzog't Meal iEiKyalopeBdia, jmtk addi- 
tions from other gourceg. By Eev. J. H. A. Bombbbgbk, D.D. 
Part IX. Edinburgh : T. and T. Clark. 

This work progresses steadily, and we are struck, with eveiy 
new number, with the vast amount of recondite intelligence which is 
exhibited in its pages. The name of Mrs. Fry occurring in this part 
with others of modem times, would indicate a far more eiteneive 
design than could be embraced in the limits in which the work is to 
be confined, and perhaps it might have been as well to exclude all 
aubjects the importance of which has not been tested by time. 
However there are plenty of archffiological topics discussed. We 
could wish that a httle care had been taken to give the Hebrew 
quotations correctly, Herzog and his literary coadjutors, nice to a 
point in all such matters, must be horrified to see how the " language 
of Canaan " is disfigured by errors in these pages. As a sample of 
the whole contents we present to our readers the following : — 

" Foot Washing. — The use of sandals, the character of tne climate, 
social custom, and religious purifications, tended to promote the 
Oriental washing of the feet. It was an act of hospitality, and a 
proof of respect for strangers (Gen. xviii. 4 ; xis. 2 ; 1 Sam. xxv. 
xli). Hence the reproof of Simon (Luke vii. 38 — 44). At the last 
supper of our Lord with his disciples, he washed their feet (John 
xiv. 4, etc,). This was a wt/mhol and. example. 8ymholicallu he de- 
sired to shew them : 1. That only they who permitted the Lamb of 
God to cleanse them of their sins had part in him ; 2. That whoever 
were once purified in hia blood needed only to have their feet washed, 
but these repeatedly, as long aa they wandered in this filthy world. 
Those once justified would continually need forgiveness unto justifi- 
cation. The fact that Jesus performed this symbolical act in connexion 
with the institution of the supper readily suggests that the ' often ' 
applied to the one should be likewise associated with the other. At 
tike same time the example of hiunility thus set by the Saviour should 
be remembered afresh at every holy communion. Hia followers should 
anew imbibe the spirit of a fraternal willingness to perform the 
meanest service for each other. It could hardly fail that in post- 
postolic times (1 Tim. v. 10 refers only to an act of hospitality) not 
merely the spirit, huiform of the Saviour's act would be perpetuated 
as a command to be literally observed (see Bingham, Astt. iv. 394). 
Augustine attests the exiatence of the rite (Ep. 118, ad. Jan.), and 
also the uncertainty of the day of ita observance. The synod of Toledo, 
694, c. 3, fixed Thursday the 14th of Niaan aa that on which it was 
instituted by Christ. The Greek church considered foot-washing a 
aacrament. Bernard of Clairvaux urged ita observance as sacramen- 
turn remiesionig peccalorum quotidianorum. But the rite never be- 
came a general ecclesiastical service. At the seats of princes and 
bishops it was often observed during the middle ages. In Greek 
monasteries and at the imperial court of Bussia it is still performed 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



198 Notices of Books. [October, 

witlL great Bolemnit; (Leo. AUat., de dom. et hebd. grae., 21). In 
the Vatican, at the courta of Vienna, Munich, Madric^ Liabon, Fuia, 
in the Eoman cathedrals and monasteries the rite ia also still per- 
formed by the pope, emperor, king, and prior, usually upon twelve 
poor old men, who thea receive a email gift, or upon twelve regular 
and secular clergr. In Some these repreaentativea wear white 
woollen cowls, and sit in the Clementine chapel, the Pope also wear- 
ing the single white tunic, sprinkles a few drops of water upon the 
right foot of each one, wipes it teaA kisses it. At the commencement 
of the ceremony the antiphony, memdatv/m novum de voMs, ia sung, 
hence the rite pedelavium ia also called mandatum. After the cere- 
mony the twelve go and take a supper in St. Paul'a church, at which 
the Pope, asaiated by his chamberWis, serves them. After the meal 
the honoured guesta take all the articles used, with the fragments left, 
along with them (excepting the silver cups used for drinking). At 
the Eeformation the proper conception of this rite was revived. 
Instead of a formal and hypocritical act of humiliation the duty of 
imitating the true import oi the example was urged. The Anglican 
church at first held to a literal observance of the rite, and instead of 
it, as many poor men and women aa there were years in the king's 
reign were furnished with garments and pieces of money in the 
chapel near Whitehall. The Anabaptiata insisted upon the strict 
observance of the rite as literally enjomed. Among the Anabaptists 
in the United Statea, ' the Church of God' (Winebrennarians) Men- 
nonites, aud River Brethren practiae foot-washing. The United Bre- 
thren ia Christ leave its observance optional with mdividual members. 
(See Alt., d. eir. OuUtu, 1851)." 



Tie Prmeiplet of Gothic Ecclesiastical Architecture, with an expla- 
nation of Technical Jferww, and a Centenan/ of Ancient Terms. 
Sj Matthew Holbeche Bloxau. Tenth edition. Illustrated 
with three hundred woodcuts. London; Kent and Co. 1859. 
ISmo, pp. 516. 

This volume needs no recommendation trom us since it has long 
been at once a popular and accredited manual, compiled with care 
and taste. The present edition contains two new chapters treating 
of the internal arrangement of churches both before and after the 
Reformation. From these we extract an interesting paragraph or 
two on offertory hoxea ; — 

" Offertory boxes nere from aa earl; period set up in muty of our churches. 
In the mandate issued i.s. 1166 for contributing toiranis the defence and iselst- 
ance of the Christiana in tbe Holy Land, a box (trunctu) was enjoined to be 
plwsed io every church, which boi was to have three keys, one to l>e kept by the 
priest and the other two by the meet trustworthy of the parishioners. Another 
instance of a geoeral order for setting up these boxes in churches, though like the 
last for a special purpose, is noticed in a letter of Pope Innocent the Third, who, 
A,D. 1200, when about to tax the church under the ostensible object of providing 
means for the relief of the Holy I^nd, wrote to the archbishops and bishops <^ 



.byCOOl^lC 



1669.] Notices of Books. 199 

Uie different diooeeee, inwhich letter occurs the following passage; — "To this end 
we command that in everj churoh there shall be placed a, hollow trunk, fwtened 
with three kajB, the first to be kept by the bishop, the second by the priest of the 
ohurob, and the third by some religious lajroim ; and that the (aithilil sh^l be 
exhorted to deposit in it, according as God shall move their heartit, their alms for 
the remiasdou of their sins ; and tl^t once in the week in all churches mass shall 
be pubholy sung for the remission of sins, and esperially of those who shall thus 
oontribute.' There are some ofi'ertory boxes still eiuting in our churohes so 
exceedingly rude in construction, being literally hollowed out from the trunk or 
branch of a tree, that having no peculiar features bj which they ra^ be recog- 
nised, tbey may be either of an early or comparativ^y late period. In Smarden 
ohurch, Kent, is an ancient offertory box of wood, let into the lid of which is an 
eoamelted plate of copper, apparently of Limoge work, with the representation of 
the saoraoieat of baptism, a, font, and four figures including tiiat of the in^t 
recipient, appearing, whilst the whole surface of the plate round the figures is 
covered with blue enamel and gilt foli^e scroll-work. This enamelled plate ap- 
pears of the latter part of the twelfth, or early part of the thirteenth centuiy. 
The perforated slit for the money is not in the centra of the plate, but rather on 
one side, between two of the figures, and the plate measurea sii inches by four 
and one-eighih inches. The box into which this plate is let, appeu^ compara- 
tively modem ; it is in the shape of a plain parallelogram, vritb three locks and 
keys, and is fastened by iron plates to an octagonal sWt <rf wood, appiffently the 
sawn trunk of a tree, with a base moulding, mdioative of its being of a period 
certainly not later than the fifteenth century. It is probable this enamelled 

iilate may have belonged to an offertory box of a date corresponding with the 
Btter of Pope Innocent III." 



byGoot^lc 



( 200 ) [October, 

IHTELLIOEHCE, 
BIBLICAL, EDUCATIONAL, LITERARY, AND MISCELLANEOUS. 



Ths Bampton Leoturea of Mr. Maniel were reviewed in oar last number, but 

the work has eicited bo ranch attention, and the subject of it is so snpremely 

important, that we think we shall hate the thankfl of oar readers for presenting 

them with the following eitracts from Bome of the leading criticiama upon it ; — 

It is poflsible that the reader who has taken the trouble to master the book 

.tself, and then proceeds to the periiBal of the remarks we have thought it onr 

duty to make upon it, ma; think we have occasionally misrepreBeDted or mis- 

— idorstood him. Wo trast this la not the caae, but in such ahatractious it is 

iry difficult for two writers, differing in their TiewB, to throw themselvea 

tirely into the theory which they do not embrace ; and tbe propoBitioos from 

which we dissent are so mixed up with others to which we give a hearty aesent, 

'' it it has not been easy to represent the exact point at which we part company 

m oar aathor. 

To repeat what we have elsewhere implied, Mr. Mansel seems to think that 

can luiow that certain ideas which we form have real existences oorrespond- 

J to them, hut denies tliat we know more than thai they oiist, refhsing to 

idmit that we at all know what they are. Thus we are supposed to be furnished 

with tbe knowledge that Ood m, and to be entirely in the dork as to whal He 

is, except so br aa Ue is revealed,— that revelation being, from the nature of 

the case, reguialive, and, as it wore, a mere candeacension to human infirmity. 

Similarly, — the knowledge to which we can attain of justice, for instajice, 

aot of justice as it exists in the Divine nature, but only of justice in its 

nan manifestations; we may know that there is such a thing as jnstice, we 

mot know vthat it is except m a repreaentation adapted to our facnltiea. 

In contradistinction to this view, it seems to na tliat it ia neceaBarily involved 

in the knowledge that God is, that we have some troe idea of what He is, — e.g., 

that He posseaaea the attributes of power, justice, goodness, love. And aguin, 

~ be able to pronounce that jnstice exists at all, implies some faint knowledge 

leaat of what it really is; just in the same way as the p " ' 



6 upon the eristence of the five regular aolids, and the impoasibility of 
any others, has a true view, however imperfect, of what they really are by the 
very ability which he possesBes of distinguishing them frem other impossible 
combinations of faces, edges, and angles. To oe able to prenonnce that a 
regular tetrahedron eiiata, ts to know something of its real nature; it is the firat 
step in a process which admita of indefinite extension, which can never he 
deemed complete till all that can he said or thought abont it is known. It is no 
reply to this to deny the analogy on the ground that we are comparing tbe finite 
with the Infinito- ' We have already said, that to speak of God as being the 
lajaute, conveys to out mind no positive idea whatever. And we are utterly 
nnable to see why, in the contemplation of the attribntea of power, wisdom, 
goodness, the knowledge that these attributes are infinite or periect, should be 
thought to alter the nature of those finite portions of them which are subjected 
to onr view ; or how it can he denied that we may push our investigations into 
the infinite, when it is notorious that mathematieat science can take cognisance 
of numbers continued to infinity, and of lines produced ad iiyinihim. 

Id moral science as well as in speculative reasoning, we approach the infinite 
from the finite ; as iu mathematics we must know what the nature of the ci 



a before we can ascertain anything about its infinite branches, so in theology 
there is an absurdity in speaking of the infinito unless you apply the term to 
some nature of which you know something in the finite. Nothing is more 
common among mathematicians than to sum an infinite series ; or, to take a 



.byCOOl^lc 



1859.] Intelligence. 



similar inatsnce from ^ 
inliDitc broDCheg of a. cutts. Tliere are many points connected nitli the subject 
which neieT have been rednced tc any rule of computation, and many which 
will for ever elude inTeatigation, just liecanae we can only know the infinite up 
to a certain point. Bat oqi knowledge of it in the cases which we have just 
alluded to is quite as real and quite as certain as any knowledge we posseas of 
the properties of the curve which do not involve the idea of infinity. We do 
not twe the argument in the mere way of analogy. We do not at all care to 
have it repreiented aa a probability that, becanae we can really derive true and 
demonstrable results from calcnlationa of the infinite in geometry, that it may 
he so in theology. It is no analogy ; it is rather an instance in point to shew 
that the infinite, in some of its manifestations at least, is not beyond the grasp 
of human intellect. 

We shall be thought by some, perhaps, to be rnnning very close to Mr. 
Hansel's view of the regtdative nature of Uiat knowledge of divine things to 
which wo can attMn, if we avow onr conviction, that though human thought is 
able to reach to a true conception of them, yet human language is unable ade- 
quately to express it. I^aws cannot be laid down by human legialatorB, however 
closely they may wish to adhere to the original of all law, in language which 
ahall bo wholly free from oiception ; the commanda to do, and to abstain, laid 
down even in the Decalogue, are not so espreased as in their exact letter to 
represent exactly, and without poBsibiJity of exceptional cases, the iaw of Ood 
written in the heart. There is, perhaps, an inherent inabilitv in human language 
to give expression to a law which ahall provide, in one abstract sentence, for 
the almost endless variety and complication of circumstances in which men may 
have to act. But the inadequacy of language to express, ia very different from 
the inability of thought to conceive. We have had occasion, in an earlier part 
of this paper, to refer to the science of astronomy for an iUnstration, and it will 
provide ns another example in point here, which will at least serve to illustrate 
what we mean. Eveir one who has advanced beyond the merest elements of 
astronomical science, is familiar with the mode in which the first crude concep- 
tions of the motions of the heavenly bodies is eipresaed, and how advancing 
knowledge shews that the statements were in themaelvos not trne, but only 
rongh approximations to the truth. Language has no power of dealing wiA 
the ease except by abstracting circumstances, which the learner cannot com- 
prehend, and stating generally what resnlts are like, not what they really are, 
and what would take place nnder certain absence of conditions, which never in 
fact can bo realized. Instances of this will occur at once to every one with 
regard to the representation made of the figure of the earth, the rotation on its 
axis, the paths of the planetary bodies, tfao motion of the whole solar system in 
apace. We liave in our day witnessed a ridiculous controversy as io whether 
the moon moved round on her axis, a dispute which never could have arisen 
at all if this fundamental difficaltj* of langnage which appears in every astro- 
nomical truth had been borne in mind. We must remind our readers here, that 
we are only making use of the analogy of this science in the way of illustration, 
and not as if it pnfwJ anything at all as to the point at issue between Mr. Mansel 
and onrselves. 

Now the propositions of which we have been speaking as presented to the 
learner in astronomy, in comparison with the actual traths which this science 
In its present state of perfection lays before the mind of the astronomer, are 
somewhat analogous to the regulative truths which Mr. Mansel speaks of in 
theology, as contrasted with those speculative truths which are beyond the 
reach of haman faculties. In astronomy, such Statements are in themselves 
tme thns far, that with the snperposition of other statements, they would repre- 
sent the whole truth. They are, moreover, true in themselves, aa representing 
what would take place in obedience to known laws of causation, if certain 
circumstances of fsct could be dispensed with. Aa snch they seem ti> no tn 
resemble those regidalive truths, aa Mr. Mansel calls them, which, in o 



with him, we regard as imperfect and inadequate representations, but which we 
feel assured are integral porrions, and not mere shadows of the troth itself. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



202 Intelligence. [October, 

The author does not write m if he had any miBErring of the truth of hie maia 
position, but he freqneDtlj provldeH againat what he would call misconceptioiis 
of it, and proteatB against oTer-atatementB. Ue Is anare that bis theory ia verj 
like the view that wo are entirely ignorant of the real nature of thingB ; that 
human beings are ooiuigned to a hopoleSH state nf scepticiBiu. He eiidentlj 
expects that aome of his leadera will think he has aabstitut«d eotire ignonuice 
in the place of that partial knowledge which points the way 1«, and is itself 
part of, that knowledge to which we hope to attain hereaf(«r. Amoogst anoh 
readeia we mnst be content to rank ourselves ; and we eameatly hope that in 
what we have said we shall not det«r any leader Icom reading thia remarkable 
book and jndging for himaelf. The coniatation of radonalism is complete, and 
we Tontare to think unanswerable ; and it woald not have been one whit the leas 
forcible if it had not been angrafwd on the questionable theory which we have 
been attempting to analyse. With the exception of this general view, which 
does not in the least affect any argument which is adduced against an; particular 
rationalistic view, there la scarcely anything in the book which we do not 
heartily approve. — Oiristiaa Reiaewbrancer, April, 1869. 

In the first of these Bamptoo Lectures there is a definition of Dt^matism 
and Kationalism ; and it ia shewn how the one is apt to err by fordng reason 
into accordance with revelation, and the other by forcing revelation into accord- 
ance with reason. In the second Lecture Mr. Mansel points out with groat 
distinctness the two opposite methods by which a Philosophy of Keligion may 
be attempted: the one, the obiective or metaphysical, based upon a suppoaed 
knowledge of the nature of God; the other, the subjective or psychological, 
based ou a knowledge of the mental faculties of man. Ho enters on a criticism 
of the first. It is here tbat his searching review bears the closest analogy tn 
the formidable assault of Hamilton on the Philosophy of the Absolute. He 
labours to show that the fundamental ideas of Bational Theology — the Absolute, 
the Infinite, the First Cause— ^involve mutual contradictions; and that there 
are further contradictious involved in the coexistence of the Absolute and Beta- 
tive, the Infinite and the Finite. We are not sure tbat we can concur in all 
the strong statements mads on this subject by the school of Hamilton. Some 
of them are advauced in the very manner of the Eleatic Zeno, when, in ord^ 
to shut men up into the doctrine that all things are one and immoveable, he 
tried to shew that there are contradictions in ue idea of motion. Ever since 
Kant propounded bis Antinomies, or supposed contradictions of reason, it has 
been the delight of the schools ramifying from him to multiply contradictions. 
It appears to ua to be possible both to think and speak about motion, and about 
the Infinite, the Absolute, and the First Cause, without landing ourselces in 
contradictions. There are native convictions collecting round all these sobjects, 
and as long as we keep to them, and give the exact expression of them, we are 
not landed even in seeming iaconsisteQCies. We admit freely tbat whenever 
we pass beyond the limited portion of truth thns intuitively revealed, we are 
landed In darkness and in mystery, — any assertions wo make will in fact be 
meaningless, and rash assertions may be contradictory on the supposition that 
they have a meaning, — but then the contradictions do not lie in oar native con- 
victions, hut in our unwarranted statements ; — it can be shewn that the Antino- 
mies of Kant are not real contradicdons in the dicta of reason, but merely in 
his own mutilated acconnt of them, derired from criticism, and not from induc- 
tion. Not a little confusion is produced in these discussions, by looking on 
infinite and cause aa if they were entities, whereas infinity and power are 
merely attribntes of an entity, say of Ood. We never could see even the 
appearance of a contradiction between the idea of an Infinite space and an 
infinite God on the one hand, and a finite piece of matter and a finite creatnre 
on the other. The supposed contradiction arises only when we make unwar- 
ranted statements about the one or the other. The real mystery arises only 
when, not satisfied with the fact of the existence of both, we put nnmeanu^ 
questions about the hoie, or about some unknown bond of relation. The follow- 
ing Is the account which we are inclined to give of what Mr. Mansel has 
actually done in the second lecture : — With an acnteness which we haye never 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] Intelligence. 208 

Been BnrpsBEed, he shevs how we Imid oorMlTes in darkness whenever we, who 
know bnt in part, make asseitionii as if we knew the whole, and bow tbose 
who would conBtroct a Eational Theology ont of ths ideas of infinity and First 
Canse, land themselves in positive contradictions. As he says in another 
lecture : — 

" Season does not deceive us if we only read her witness aright; and reason 
herself gives as warning when we are in danger of reading it wrong. The 
light that is within ns is not darkness, only it cannot iUnminate that which is 
beyond the sphere of its rays. The self-contradictiona into which we inevitably 
&iQ when we attempt certain courses of speculation, are the beacons placed by 
the hand of God in the mind of roan to warn ua that wB are deviating from the 
track which He desi^s us to pursue ; that we are striving to pass the barriers 
which He has planted aroond na. The flaming sword turns every way against 
those who strive in the strength of their own reason to force their passage to 
the tree of life."— p. 198. 

In the third lecture he examines the Philosophy of Beligion as constructed 
from the laws of the human mind, lie enunciates four conditions of all hnman 
consciouanesB. Knowing the abnse made of them by Professor Ferrier, we are 
snspicioua of conditions kid down so rigidly, and withont a previous indoction. 
We acknowledge no conditions of consciousness, except those laws of human 
intelligence which can be discorered by a careful and cautions observation, 
which, in discovering the eiistence of the laws, will also discover their limits. 
The conditions are :— -distinction between one object and another; relation be- 
tween snbject and object; succession and duration; and personality; — all of 
whicli he endeavoars lo shew are inconaistent with an idea of the Infinite or 
AbBolute. It appears clear to us that there are native convictions attached to 
all these subjects, viz., the diSerence between things made known to UB; the 
difference between self and not-self; time; and personality; — what we de- 
siderate is to have these stated fully and cautiously, not as conditions, bat as 
tacts. When these convictions are properly enunciated, all appearance of con- 
tradiction between them and the native cooviction which tbe mind has of the 
Infinite will disappear. Every man has a necessary conviction of his person- 
ality ; but there is no seeming contradiction between this and our Gouviction, 
tliat 'there is an infinite God. I am led to look on God as a person ; and if per- 
sonality be viewed as an attribute, there is really no inconsistency in supposing 
Giod to poBses the further attribute of infinity. We deny that " the only fiuman 
conception of personality is tbat of hmitation" [p. 119). This statement might 
come conaiatently from a Kantian, who, starting with a number of other and 
artificial forms, has most inexcusably overlooked personality as a native convic- 
tion. Bnt Mr. Manselhas told us that personality is reveded in all the "clear- 
ness of an original jntnition." Transfer this indefinable attribate in God, and 
transfer at the same time onr intuitive conviction as to infinity to God, and 
we can see no incongruity. A mystery may arise, we admit, when we travel 
beyond our convictions. Hr. Mansel has shewn how those wlm would con- 
struct a Bational Theology ont of these mysteries land themselves in hopeless 
craitradicdons. 

In the fourth lecture he expounds what he regards as the two principal 
modes of religious intuition, which are a feeling of dependence, and a sense of 
moral obligation. The former is repreionted as implymg a Personal Superior, 
and prompting to prayer ; while the latter impliea a Moral Governor, and gives 
a sense of sin and of the need of an expiation. Mr. Mansel is now on gronnd 
which we rejoice to see him occupying ; and we can go along with him freely 
and buoyantly withont our being for ever in terror of running on a bristling 
barrier, or of being crushed in tno collision of a contradiction. It is here we 
Qnd him shewing that the mind has a belief in the Infinite, and a " conviction 
that the Infinite does exiat, and muat exist." Kight heartily do we concur in 
his exposition of moral obligation, and of the great truths involved in it: we 
only wish that he had been equally fearless in his interpretation of our intel- 
lectual intuitions. In regard to the feeling of dependence, we may be permitted 



.byCOOl^lC 



204 Intelligence. [October, 

to SAf, that while we look on it aa native, we regard it as issuing from a com- 
bination of different onnvictions ever pressing tbeinselvea on us. Feeling or 
emotion, we might shew, is always attached to on apprehonsion of something; 
an4 ^^ thinlt we can specify tbo kpprBhensiona whicQ give rise Co the fetiling of 
dependence. All that we bbb or know on earth points to a higher causa. Provi- 
dence, in particnlar, is impresxing us with our dependence on arrangements 
made independent of ns. Onr sense of obhgation points to a Being to whom 
we arc at all times respossible, and to whom we must at last give an account of 
the deeds done in the body, whether they have been good or evil. Our sense of 
'u and of want ever prompts us to look out for one who may supply what we 



need. Nor is it to be omitted, that the c 

ever prompting us to bow before one who is inconceivably above us. The 
feeling of dependence seems to us the result of snch deep convictions as these. 
We can, therefore, agree with Mr. Mansel in thinking that Bchleiermacher has bf 
no means given the right account of it ; and we have to (bank him for his criti- 
cism of the fundamental position of the Schleiermacher phiioaophy and theology. 
Wo have already noticed the distinction between speculative and regulative 
truth : it is drawn by Mr. Mansol at the close of the fourth and in the fi^ 
lecture. Onr doctrine on this subject is, that man does know truth positively, 
but that he knows truth Only "iu part," and ever errs when be supposes that 
his knowledge is absolute. And bonce wo can agree with nearly all that be 
says 90 ingeniously as to the analogy between man's conatilution and the mode 
in which instruction is given in the Bible, so adapted to man's Suite comprehen- 
sion. The two are in unison, in that both imply that man's capacity of know- 
ledge is limited. The inspired writers " prophesy in part" to beings who can 
" know but in part." 

In the sixth lecture we have admirable parallels between onr ignorance as 
to religioaa truths and our ignorance in regard to philosophic truth, " Keason 
gains nothing by repudiatbg revelation ; for the mvatery of revelation is the 
mystery of reason" (p. 178). We thank bim for the rebuke adminiatered to 
those who look on tbe mode of procedure by natural law as involved in our idea 
of God- 
In tbe seventh lecture he spt^ka of hnmau morality as being relative, not 
absolute. At the same time ho insists (p. 206) that there is an "absolute mo- 
rality," that there is " a higher and unchangeable principle" embodied in these 
human and relative forms. We ask him how he hnowa this, or bow he can 
prove this ? For if the mind's " forms" may modify morality in one thing, why 
not in others ?— why not in aU, tiU wo are landed in moral nescience? Wo 
save ourselves from these consequences by declaring, that man's convictions 
of morality are at once positive and limited — positive as distinguished Arom re- 
lative, and limited as distinguished from absolute. Man's moral cognition 
being thus limited, we agree with all that Mr. Mansol says about out not 
being in a poaition to judge of God's judgments which are unsearchable, and 
His ways which are past finding out. 

In the eighth and last lecture he gives a summary of the Christian Evi- 
dences, internal and external. We are inclined to give a larger place to the 
internal evidences than he is able to do, in consequence of bis imposing such 
terribly stringent limits to the objective value of our intuitive convictions. 
We, too, have a limit which we impose; — it is, that the internal principle 
appealed to, be shewn to be in the constitution of the mind, and be rigidly lu- 
ducted. We moat heartily concur In all that he says, so admirably and so de- 
voutly, in closing, as to the difficulties of revealed religion arising from the 
limited nature of our facilitios, and as forming pait of our training and dis- 
cipline in this present life. 

There are perplexities in philosophy as well as in theology, which tbe human 
intellect cannot make straight any more than it uan square the circle. We who 
dwell in a world " where day and night alternate," we who go everywhere 
accompanied with our own shadow, cannot expect to he absolutely delivered 
from the darkness. Man is so constituted that he can admire, and love, and 
even trust, in that which is so far mysterious. The mind is not averse to go 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Intelligence. 205 

ont St time« into the dim, the ancient, the mingling of ligbt and elitdow. It 
tiYoids instinotjvelj the open, uninteresting plain, where all in seen and dil- 
corered bj one glance of the eye, and finds more plea^ore ic losing itself amid 
avaiietj of hill, and dale, and forest, where wo catch occasional glimpses of 
distant objects, or see them in dim pere^tJTe. The sonj of man never hag 
been satisfied with a cold and ratioaalistio creed, bat has rather delighted to 
laxnriate amid the doctrines of the Word, which win and allnre ns bj tne exhi- 
bition of the light and lore of Ood, and yet awe us by the shadow of inflnitj 
which falls upon us. 

Human logic has endeavoured at times to conatract a religion, bnt ha« failed 
in all its attempts, as this age is prepared to acknowledge. Bnt Intuitionalism 
is jnst as incapable of funning a religion as the logical understanding. All 
attempts hitherto made are confeased failures. There was at one time an ex- 
pectation that something better than the old faith of the Bible might come out 
of the phiiosophies of Sohleiermacher, or Scbelling, or Hegel ; but we rather 
think that the last hope of any such issue has vanished. 

It was also long thought 1^ some, that certain men of genius, who had bor- 
rowed from the German metaphysicians, such as Goethe, Coleridge, and Tbomae 
Carlyle, moat liave something to unfold new and important, and fitted lo aatisfr 
the deeper wants of the soul. But in this they have been disappointed. Such 
men as Francis Newman, Theodore Parker, and Emerson, have followed so 
erratic and meteor-like a career that few wonid desire to follow them, and liave 
arrived at results which the heart feels to he onaatisfactory, and tbia all the 
more, inasmnch as the scanty creed which they retain is liable to be assailed on 
the same grounds as the tenets which they have abandoned. Intuitionalisin 
has Chns bad its trial in the age now passing away, as Rationalism bad in pre- 
vious ases ; and both have been foond utterly insufficient. 

In Oxford, since Pusey, Manning, Keble, Wilberforce, and Newman (men 
of strong, but diseased minds) originated the medieval High Church movement, 
the wheel of opinion has taken one full half turn. It has, unfortunately, not 
bronght those who are mounted on it any nearer to a thorough suhmiaaion to 
Scripture. As in Roman Catholic countries the rampant gnperatition leads to 
scepticism, which again, when its hideousness is discovered, tempts men to See 
back to supoistition, so in Oxford the High Churchism of the last age, brooght 
in to repel at one and the same time Rationalism and Dissenterism, has ended in 
this age in Intuitionalism. We rather think that there will now be found In 
Oxford few jonngmenof ability, under thirty years of age, professing Pnseyiam, 
while not a few of the more impulsive are high Intuitionalisls. But, as the 
opposite sides of the wheel have a point of union in the centre, so the opposite 

Cies have a l>ond of connexion, in an unwillingness to allow the common 
riaes of Natural Thaoloey and to submit to a literal Interpretation of the 
Word ; and so they agree with each other, after all, in not a few things ; as in 
pMB^ elsevrhere than Scripture for their religion — in the last age to the chnrch, 
10 this age to a showy intuition ; we may add, in their attachment to stained 
glass, fine music, and imposing forms, and in their antipathy to the evangelical 
party iu the church and Eieyond the church. In these circumstances, we are 
gratified beyond measure to find one of Oxford's most learned sons declaring — 

" No man has a right lo Say, ' I will accept Christ as I like, and reject Him 
as I like: I will follow the holy example; 1 will turn away from the atoning 
lucrifice : I will listen to His teaching ; 1 will have nothing to do with His 
mediatioD : I will believe Him when He tells me that He came from the Father, 
because I feel tliat Hia doctrine has a divine beauty and fitness ; but I will not 
believe Him when He tells me that He is one with the Father, because I cannot 
conceive how this unity is possible.' This is not philosophy which thus mntl- 
lates man; this is not Christianity which thoa divides Qirist." — The North 
Britith Review, Fehnary, 1859. 

It would be a melancholy and miserable result were we compelled to con- 
clude that, Ijecaase we cannot comprehend God positively and directly we can 
therefore know nothing of Him at all, or nothing that could form the basis of 
a theological system, or famish materials and impalses to practical piety. But 



D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



206 Mdligence. [October, 

to cbuge inoh a cooM^netice on the BpeenktHaiB we hare been espotmdine is, 
ne believe, moat nn&ir. W}ien tliene gpetHilAtione are embraoed to tbe full, 
there atill lemtuns uuple ground both for thetdogical inquiry tuA for religkms 



Though we cannot know God (ib*oI«(«I^ we may know Him rdativd^. 
Though we cannot take into our minds an adequate conception of His Infinite 
Majetty, we may clearly and impreBsively aee UioBe manileetationB of Himaelf 
which He acoonunodatea to one capacity ; just aa (to use the simile of Dea 
Cartes) we may clearly couccitb tboao parts of the ocean which lie before onr 
view, though we may find it difficult, if not impoesible, to conceiTS the ocean as a 
whole. Giod as He la in Himself we cannot see ; bnt in His lelatioo to tbe 
world and to oureelveB He has sorevealedUimself that we cbb see Him, and see- 
ing Him, adore and confide and rejoice. In the language of Scripture, thoogh 
we cannot know Him, we may know " parts of His ways ;" and through them 
■0 much of his character and methods as it concerns us to know, or we are 
capable of knowing. What more than this can acience or piety require ? 
" Cognovi Te,' exckims AuKuetine, " non sicut Tibi eB, sed cognoTi Te aieut 
mihi es; et non sine Te, sedin Te; qnia Tu es lux qn» iUDmiuaati me. ¥»rMt 
eniu Tibi es, soli Tibi cognitns es; sicat mihi es, secundnm gratiam tuam et 
mihi cugnitos es."' 

Though we cannot know Ood potitindy, we may know Him vegativdy, via 
negaiionu as the old divines have expressea it. If we cannot tell what Hs is, 
we can tell what He is not; and this method of instructing na Scripture fre- 
qnently employs. Herein, indeed, lies the chief part of our knowledge of God, 
as the very terms we employ in speaking of Him show. For what are Buch 
words SB infinite, onchaiiEOable, immortal, etc., but jast so many negatives, 
virtual acknowledgments that we know God only by contrast with what He ia 
not? And even when our langnage assumes a positive /bnn, how seldom is it 
that it conveys a positive ideal Let any one try to tell what is mtaia by such 
words as Eternal, Omnipresent, Holy, etc., otherwise than by a process of nega- 
tion, and he will, we venture to say, find the task impossible. We thug see (hid 
by his shadow rather than bj his direct light. Are we, then, left in ignorance 
of Him? Snroly not ; whoever saw a el^ow without reoognizing it as the 
indication of light 7 It is preposterous to say that a negative notion is a notion 
of nothing. Far from it ; it is the notion of something which we know only as 
not possessing qualities or snfiering conditions which we see in something else 
with which we are familiar. Of such notions a considerable part of onr know- 
ledge oonsistfl. What do we mean, for instance, by cold bnt the negation of 
heat ? or by death but the negation of life ? Are these, therefore, notions of 
nothing? This will hardly, we think, be affirmed. But if these negative 
notions be admitted, why abould it be maintained that to have a negative notion 
of Qod would be to have a thought of nothing, and that tbe via ■segatimuM, as 
followed in onr searchings after Him, can only land ns in darknesB and a great 
void? Not so thonght Augustine. "Now,"aay8 he, "if ye cannot compre- 
hend what Qod is, at least comprehend what God is not ; you sbatl have made 
great profidency if yon shall think of God not otherwise than He is. If yoo 
cannot jet arrive at what He is, arrive at least at what He is not. ... If yon 
cannot comprehend what Ood is, do not think it a small thing to know wbat 

ThoDgh we cannot know God direcSy, we may know Him by anahgy — 



° SoUloqKia, chap. xxzi. 13. 

' Nunc si non potestis comprehenders qnid sit Dens, vet hoc comprehendite 
qmd non sit Dens ; mnltnm profeceritis si non aliad qnam est de Deo senseritis. 

Nondnm potestis perrenire ad quid sit ; pervenite ad quid non sit 8i non 

vales comprehendere Deus quid sit, pamm non tibi putes esse scire qnid non 
sit. — Mepo*. tn Ev. Joan., Tr. 23. 



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1859.] InteUigence. 207 

flist in Mb own image and likeneaB, Cliere m 
tepreBentation of God ; and, at any rate, it i 

ABaCtetnuui 



philoBophar baa tersely pnt it : " God in making man tbeamorphizad 
DutD oi^DecesEity antu^tpomorplilzes " in bis conceptions, to nit, of i 
it descend into oursfilves to aaoend to God. We know directly and 



diateiy nothing greater than oonielTeB, and therefore it is only by instittlting a 
ratio of which one term is famished by onraelTes, that we con rise to the con- 
ception of that unseen Being who is inGnitely above ub. And it is in this way 
that oar conceptions of God cease to bo merely negatiTe, and acquire a certain 
positivity of form and force. It is thus that we aro able to represent Him to 
ourselves as an intelligent Essence, a Spirit, a being of thought and will. It 
has, indeed, been said that " the position OoiJ u a ipiril, if laid down merely 
aa a negative position, as tbe negation of corporeity, has a good and valid sense; 
bnt tbe same position, taken as a positive one, aeiving for a definition of the 
Divine essence, is utterly useless."'' But is this trae? Shall wo not ratbei 
say that, .wfailat God is a spirit in a sense peculiar to HiToself, whilst He is the 
only pare and perfect Spirit, the on!y Absolnto InteUigence, and as such inoom- 
prebensible and nndefinablo b^ ub, his spirituality is nevertheless aaaUiginu to 
ours in its qualities and affections, so that, from what we know of intelligence 
in onrselves, we may obtain a knowledge, not perfect, indeed, yet free from 
error, of intelligence in God ? By this means the Divine Being becomes for us 
a reality whom we may reverence, worship, trust, love, and obey. In no other 
way, in &ct, is tbere for ns really a God. We cannot realize a mere abstrac- 
tion ; we cannot reverence or fear an idea ; we cannot love a pbysioal law ; we 
cannot tmat in a blind insensate Fato. It is a God who manifests Himself ■ 



as in relation with us, who is realized by ns through analogy with ourselves, 
who is thougbt by ns aa like ourselves, though absolutely without any of those 
limitations that hem ns in on every side ; a God near at band to us, yet infi- 
nitely glorious and infinitely good, — it is snch a God alraie of whom we cas 
intelligently and rejoicingly say, " This God ie our God for ever and ever." 

We thus have a knowledge of God as revealed to us, a knowledge real and 
true, though not such a knowledge as we can rationalize or subject to the 
scrutiny ol the understanding— a knowledge sufficient for faith and piety, 
though not such as the scientific reason would demand. A speculative know- 
ledge of the unsearehable is for uH impossible ; but that does not preclude our 
having snch a knowledge of Him in bis relations Co us as may suffice to regulate 
our conduct and feelings towards Him for the best and highest results. 
" Though 1 know not," savs Archbishop King, " what God is in Himself, yet, 
if 1 believe He is able to hurt or help me, to make me happy or miserable, this 
belief is sufficient to convince me that it is my duty to fear Uim. If 1 be assured 
that all his works are done with regularity, order, and fitness ; that nothing can 
surprise or disappoint Him; that He can never be in any donbt or at a loss 
what is proper for Him to do; though I do not comprehend the fiicultios br 
which He performs so many admirablo and amazing things, yet 1 know enough 
to make me adore and admire his conduct.'" These observations might be ex- 
tended, as indeed they are by tbeir author, to the whole of those relative aspects 
under which we regard Giod, so as to render Him that worship, trust, and obe- 
dience which are due frem ns to Him. Throughout, our knowledge, though 
speculatively to the last degree defective, may yet be amply sufficient for us, 
legnlatively, with respect to all the purposes of our moral and spiritual being. 

This distinction between a knowledge which is speculatively adequate, and 

' Den Menschen erschaffend theomorphlsirte Qott : nothwendjg anthropomor- 
phisirt der Monsch. — Jacobi, non Qotd. Dingen, p. 182. 

' Doc Satz, Gott ist oin Geiat, liat bloBB ala negativer Bati, aU negation der 



™ by Google 



208 Intelligence. [October, 

one whicli witbont being this is j^t practically regulative, has been received hj 
some &B if it were a llietuogical hereey of tbs l^est sort. Without entering into 
the question at present as one of philosophiCBil import, we would odI; recall to 
the attention of such two considerations whicli may serre to allay their appw- 
bsusions of danger from this distinction. The one of these is, that this distinc- 
tion obtains in matters of ordinary life, and is acted on daily by thousands who 
folloiv safely aod nith advantage practical rules, the theory of which they can- 
not comprehend ; so that, in applying tbia to onr religious interests and relations, 
we postulate no new principle, but only carry out one to which univeraal conseut 
lutH already been obtained. The other consideration is, that it is only on the 
gronnd of this distinction that the mode, so plentifully exemplified in Scripture, 
of representing Qod aa if He were a being of like form, affections, and paasioni 
with ouiBelveH, can be eiplained or justified. We there read that Ho h«H eyes, 
hands, feet — that He is angry, is grieved, repenta— that He dwells in a house, 
sits on a throne, walks in a path, and many other such like fepresentationa. 
Now, viewed apecnlatively, such modes of representation are beyond all question 
incorrect; they do not answer to the real natnre of God, and, if held aa directly 
true concerning Him, would hmd ub in seriona error. What, then, are we to do 
with them ? or how are we to make use of them so as to reap the boneGt they 
are designed to convey to ns ? To these questions we can see do aatisfaoto^ 
answer without a resort to tbo distinction between speculative and regulative 
knowledge. Even if we adopt, as sufficient for the interpretation of suca repre- 
sentatiuns, the role ao tersely eipreaaed by Aqniuas, Affertut in Deo denotat 
effectum/ that is, when human aifections are ascribed to God, the meaning is, 
tDat He will deal with us practically as one having such affections would deal ; 
that is, he will punish when he is said to be angry, will not inflict what has 
been threatoned or give what has been promised, where he is said to repent, 
and so forth ; it is only by a virtual recognition of the diatinction between Hpe- 
colative and regulative knowledge that we can jnetify our coarse. We agroe, 
however, with Mr. Mansel that this rule eipresaes only part of the truth, and 
that, over and above the effect, there is also indicated by these representations 
aomething in God that is analogous to those equalities and affections in ns which 
they express, the itnowledge of which is designed to have on influence on our 
feeUnga and conduct as his creatures. In this case it becomes still more evi- 
dent that we have received what we may use as a regulative principle, though 
we cannot construe it as a speculative truth. Under the former aspect the 
revelation is clear and intelligible ; under the latter there still remains the im- 
penetrable veil of those clouds and that darkness which are around God's throne. 
To this distinction, then, we must hold that God himse.lf has implicitly given hii 
" ' * ' ' d of representation in his Word which neceam- 

n order justly to apprehend and use his teach- 
ings. 

Our portion in this present life is thus to see divine things only through a 
mirror in an enigma.' beholding not the reality itself, but only the reflection ot 
it through the medium of revdation, and that in such a form as to puEEle the 
natural reason. Still wo do see, and for this we should be grateful, nor should 
we forbear to acknowledge that it is good for us in onr present state thus to be 
obliged to hold our faith amid speculative difficulties. " In the great variaty of 
religious situations," says Butler, " in which men are placed, what constitutes, 
what chiefly and peculiarly constitutes, the probation, in all senses, of some 
persons, may be the difficulties in which the evidence of religion is involved; 
and their principal and distinsuished trial may be how they will behave under 
and with respect to these diffculties."' What Butler thus asserts with refer- 
ence to the evidences of religion may be extended to the substance of religion, 
and what he hypothetically says of soma may, we think, be positively affirmed 
to a greater or less degree of all aa religious beings : it is good and profitable 

/ Stanma, p. i., qn. 2, art. 2. 

^ A 



Atudogy, part ii. ch. 6. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



1859.] Intelligence. 209 

for OS, &s ft part of oax moral and epiritnai ^Bciplioe, that we ehoald encoanter 
man; thiagi to be believed which are yet hard to be anderstood, and man^ 
which are not to be understood at all, in the Bubstance of divine truth. It is 
not for our weltare that our religion should be too easy for ns, or that we should 
be able to bold it free of all speculative difficulties. We need to be trained to 
resist doubt, just as we need to be trained to resist evil. It may be otheiwiae 
with us in that higher and more perfect state for which this disciplinary scene 
is intended to prepare ns, when, as Mr. Mausel beautifully eipressea it, " the 
light which now ^eams in restless flashes from the ruffled waters of the human 
soul, will settle into the steadfast image of God's face shining on its nnbrohen 
BurfacB." We have reason to believe that it will be so ; but for our present 
state another method of treatment is necessaiy ; doubt and difficulty must needs 
encompass us as «e pursue our upward path, and we have to be prepared for 
the inheritance of light by passing through the perplexides of an intermediate 
twilight.— Brittf A Quarta-hi Renew. 

We have done our best to eipluii why we utterly disavow Mr. Mansel's inter- 
pretation of Revelation, as a message intended to regulate hnman practice without 
unfolding the realities of the divine mind. It is a less easy task, but not less a 
duty, on the part of those who are gravely sensible of the emptiness of such an 
interpretation, to give some exposition of the deeper meaning which the fact of 
revelation aseumes to their own minds. We hold that it is an unveiling of the very 
character and life of the eternal God ; and an unveiling, of course, to a nature 
which is capable of beholding Him. It is not, in our belief, an overclouding of 
divine light to suit it for the dimness of human vision, but a purification of the 
human vision from tlie weakness and disease which render it liable to be dazzled 
and bUnded by the divine Ught. It is, in short, the history of the awakening, pnri- 
fyiog, and answering of the yeamtngs of the human spiiit for a direct knowledge 
of Him. It proceeds from God, and not from man. The cloud which is on the 
human heart and reason can only be gradually dispersed by the divine love ; no 
restless straining of turbid haman aspiration can wring from the silent skies that 
knowledge which yet every human being is formed to attain. Coming from ^lod, 
this method, this "education of the human race," as Lessing tmiy termed Re- 
velation, has been unfolded with the unfolding capacity of the creatures he was 
educating to know him. Its significance cannot be conjiaed to any special series 
of histoncal facts; but it is clear tliat the divine government of the Jewish race 
was meant to bring out, and did bring out, more distinctly the personality of 
Gh>d, while the history of other races brings out more clearly the divine capaci- 
ties of man. Hence the cooperation of different nations was requisite for the 
fulfUoient of the revelation. Centuries were required for the complete evolution 
even of that special Jewish history that was selected to testify to the righteons 
will and defined spiritual character of the Creator. Centuries on centnnea will 
be reqnired to discipline fully the human faculties that are to grow into the fiuth 
thus prepared for them. The blindness of the greatest men, of the highest 
races, of wide continents, cannot shake our faith that this purpose will be ful- 
filled ; for the term of an earthly life is adequate at best for its conscloas com- 
mencement, and only under special conditions oven for that ; nor are there 
wanting indications that both in the case of men and natious the longest training, 
and the dreariest periods of abeyance of spiritual life, are often preparations fur 
its fullest growth. I3y tedious discipline, by slow Providence, by inspirations 
addressed to the seeking intellect of the philosopher, to the yearning imagina- 
tion of the poet, to the ardent piety of the prophet, to the common reason and 
conscience of all men, and by the fulfilment of al! wisdom in the Sou of Qod's 
life on earth, has the Divine Spirit sought to drive away the mists that dim our 
human vision. Through its wants and powers alike haman nature has been 
taught to know God. Its every power has been haunted by a want till the 
power was referred to its divine source, its veiy wants have become powers 
when they hare turned to their divine object. If this, then, and nothiug short 
of this, be revelation, a living and direct nntblding of that divine mind in which, 
whether we recognize it or not, we " live and move and have our being," — an 
"' "" "" " "" ' ' ■■ ' '' 'ernal life, — we ought not to rest 



D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



210 Intelligence. [October, 

Mtlsfled with shewing that Mr. MaasoVs reoGonB foe dispnting the poBBibility of 
Bach s wonderfnl truth are onsound, — wb ought also to ahew by what criteria 
we judge that this is the actual fact, the great reality, ou which all oar love of 
truth and kuowledre rests. 

The Brat atage in any revelation must be, one would anppoae, the dawning 
knowledge that there ia a veil " on the heart " of man, and that there is a life 
nnmaiiifeated behind it. In Mr. MaDBel'B, aa in our view, thia ia a knowledge 
which can be gained by man ; but he makea it the final triamph of human £aith 
and philoBophy to recognize and ocjutwee in it ; while we hold it to be the very 
HrBt leason of the peraooal conacience, the very firat purpoae of that external 
discipline which waa intended to engrave the divine peraonaJity on Jewiah 
history, to teach that such a cloud may ever threaten the mind and conscience, 
bat that it con be dUperied, 

What, indeed, is the first lesson of the human conscience, the first trath 
impreaaed upon the Jewiah nation, but this, that a presence boaota man behind 
and before, which he cannot evade, and which ia ever giving new meaninga to 
bis thonghtB, new direction to his aims, new depth to bis hopes, new terror to 
his sins? Where, then, if this haunting presence be so overpowering, if it 
follow na aa it followed the deepest minds among the Jewish people, till it seem 
almost intolerable,— where is the darkness and the veil which revelation implies? 
Just in the fact that thia presence does aeem intolerable ; that it ia ao far apart 
frran that of roan, that, like a dividing sword, it makea hia apirit start ; that he 
seeks to escape, and ia, in fact, reuly able to resist it; that be can ao eaail^ 
caae-harden his spirit against the supernatural pajn ; that instead of openiDg hi8 
mind to receive this painfnily-taaking life that la not his own, he can so easily, 
for a time at least, set up in its place an idol carved out of his own oatnre, or 
something even more passive Uian his own nature, and therefore not likel;y to 
disturb his dream of rest. Thia, we take it, is the first stage or act of revelation, 
whether in the individual conscience, or in that special history which is intended 
to reveal the confiicts between the heart of a nation and the God who rules it. 
It ia the discovery of a preaence too pttre, too great, too piercing for the natufal 
life of man, — the effbrt of the mind, on one pretence or another, to be allowed 
to stay on its own level and disregard this presence, — the knowledge that, this 
must end in sinking below its own level, — ^the actual trial and experience that 
it ia so, — the reiterated pain and awe of a new intrusion of the anpernataral 
light, — the reiterated effort to " adapt " that light to human forms and likings, 
— -the reiterated idolatry which all such adaptations imply, whether physical, as 
in the Jewish times, or intellectual, aa in our own, — and the reiterated shame of 
fresh degradation. If this be, as, we believe, the human conscience teatiSes, 
whether as embodied in the typical biatory of the Jews, or in the individual 
mind, the lirgt atage in that discovery which we call Revelation, what becomes 
of Mr. Mansel'a theory, that Kevelation is the " adaptation " of the "infinite" 
to the " finite," of the perfect to the imperfect, of the absolute morality to the 
poor capacities of a sinful being ? If so, — why this craving of the nature to be 
let alone, thia atarting aa at the touch of a flame too vivid for it, — thia com- 
fort in ciroumacribing, or fancying that we can circamBoribe, the living God in 
some human image or form of thought, and worsbipping that by way of evading 
the reality ? Doea the human spirit ever quail thus before a mere notion ? If 
God himself is inaccessible to knowledge, shouid not we find it eitremely eaay 
to adapt ouraelves to any abstract or ideal conception of bim ? It is the living 
touch of righteousness, even tbough human only, that makes us shrink; not 
the idea of righteousness, which, as all theologies testify, is found pliant enough. 
Bat if it be a righteous life and will, not merely the idea or idol of a righteous 
life and will, that stirs hnroan nature thus deeplv, and finds us, aa it found the 
JewH, afraid to welcome it, awe-struck at the chasm which divides us from it, 
fearful to aurrender ouraelves to its guidance, ready to adapt it in any way to us, 
unready to adapt ourselves to it, — i^ we say, we know it to be a Uvtng will that 
thus checks, urges, and besets na, Hr. Mansei'i theory as to the narrow limits 
of human knowledge would BCarcely induce him to deny that it is God himself; 
for there is nothing in his theory which is not almost as much contradicted by 



Digili.^byCOOl^lc 



1859.] IiUemgmce. 211 

any living Kpiritool conrerse between tlie human spirit and a Bpidt of perfect 
haUnasB as bj direct conTeise with Qo&.-^National Jievitw. 

The argument of the work is based upon the groat principle eniinoiated by 
Sir William Hamilton, and which contains in itself a refatation of the wbolo 
gchool of German BophistB, to wit: "the unconditioned is incoKnizable and 
inconceivable ; ita notion being only negative of the condidoned, which last can 
alone be bnt pttrtially known or conceived." 

We have said that these German philoBophers ate aelf-contradictory. Even 
Tennomann thus speaks of the results which his countrjlnen have already 
reached ; " The vast variety of contradictoiT attempts, destructive of each other, 
to which the spirit of philosophical research has, .in modern times, given birth, 
may appear to throw suspicion on the cause itself, and to discourage the very 
idea of the poaaibility of a satisfactory solution of the problems proposed hy the 
discovery of a theory of knowledge baaed on firm and immutable principles. 
The critical lyit^n itielf hat failed to ci«cjt, ai it midertook to do, the daring 
fiight of speaHatiim, or to disarm saptid^n ; and ha» had the effeet of affording 
them rentmed strength and more lofty pretention." Some of our beat American 
Bcbolars, who, in their earlier years, were somewhat taken with German Philo- 
sophy, later in life have become thoronghly sick of ita vast pretensions, and its 
alnost ntter frnitlessnesa ; bat most of ail, ef the infidel habits of thought and 
feeling which it is sure to generate. Its taS a-r£ is wrong. It starta with a lie 
io its right hand. 

We have already spoken of the Notes. Fitting more than one hundred and 
thirty pages in Sne type, the original Greek, Latin, French, and German of the 
English, are given in a translation, in this American edition. They are suffi- 
ciently full to represent that system of speculation which is spreading so rapidly 
in this coantry, which is as blaaphemons as it is insidious, and which is the more 
to be dreaded, as it conceals its designs under the pretentions garb of sanctity, 
philanthrupj, and learning. 

We will not lay down the volnme without saying that the work is open to 
severe criticism in one or two points, bnt tboy do not touch ita main positions; 
while most of the comments upon the book, which we have seen, seem to us 
rather an attempt to enhibit the metaphysical acumen of the writer, than to 
overturn the foundation on which Mr. Mansel tms planted himself. 

We are aware that we have bnt imperfectly mdicated the method of the 
argument in these Lectures, and their pertinence and value. Bat we would 
not fail, in behalf of American Churchmen, to eipresB to the learned author oar 
grateful appreciation of a work so needful, and so nobly done. Ita usefolneas 
will be greater in the American than in the English Chnrch ; as we are exposed, 
even more than our English brethren, to the baleful influence of German 
infidelity ; while we have fewer correctives which we can bring to hear against 
its poison. Our clergy, and, we trust, multitudes of our laity, will read the 
book, and will be strengthened by it for the great conflict of the age, agunst 
a proud, hitter, infidel, dogmatizing KationaliBm, which is eating ont the 
very heart of onr Seligion, and which is sapping the foundation on which 
rest not only the Sacraments and Ministry of the &>ipel, but all ita moat vital 
Doctrines. — America/a Church Jieview. 

The Bible Printiiu/ Mottopolg. — ^The select committee app(ant«d to inquire 
into " the natui« and extent of the Queen's printerB* patent for England and 
Walte, BO far as relates to the right of printing the Holy Scriptures, and to 
report their opinion as to the propnety of any future grant of that patent," have 
simply reported io the House of Commons the evidence adduced before them 
during the late session. Tbey recoramead their re-appointment next year. The 
chairman of the Committee wa« Mr. Baines, M,P. for Leeds ; the other members 
being Mesan. Clive, Walpole, Ewart, Bright, Solwyn, Crum Ewing, A, Mills, P. 
Crossley, Lefcoy, Lord H. Cecil, and Sir Charles Doughi*. The committee held 
four sittings. The witnesses examined were Mr. W. Spottiswoode, one of the 
patentees, Mr. E. Besley, type-founder, Mr. Charles Childs, printer, of Bungay, 
Mr. B. Pardon, of the firm of Beed and Pardon, printers, Mr. F. Wame, of the 

D!l,l,r..cb,.COO^^IC 



21S InteU^enoe. [October, 

pQbHdiuig house ot Mcesrs. Boutledge, the Iter. Pr. CuwaU, an American Epis- 
copal divine, tiie B«t. C. Clayton, M.A., tutor of Cfiiua College, Cambiidge, and 
Mr. T. Combe, Buperinbendent of the priating of Biblea st the UniTersity Preas, 
Oiford. 

The first witnees eituoiued was Mr. Spottiswoode, the Queen's printer, en- 
gaged b; patent to print " accurate editions of the Holy Scriptures." He told 
the oommitlee that the letters patent, which have been held % tbem for a oen- 
,tury, will eipire in January next, 1860. The rights of the Queen's printer are 
co-ordinate with thoee of the uniTersitiee quoad the pubhcatioa of the Bible, 
Mr. Spottiswoode says that the Bible is sold at a price unquestionably cheaper 
than any book in the trade approaching it in bulk, even in these days of cheap 
Uterature. The comparisoD "is favourable to the Bible in eve^ dwree," and in 
the United States, where there u no restriction whatever, Mr. Bpottiswoode 
afBrms that the Bibles issued are decidedly inferior to the English, both as regards 
aocuraoy and cheapness. There are no books at present produced in the States 
oorresponding to our cheapest edition. The " Authorized Edition " is in great 
request everywhere, and generally commacds the market wherever English b 
spoken. The competition, according to the Queen's printer, is very severe under 
the present system, and there is nothing like a monopoly. The right secures 
"aoouracj and cheapness in the editions." The withdrawal of the patent would 
induce the Queen's printers to consider very seriously what course they would 
take, but he admits that they would have great advantages over other oompetiton 
by the possession of the types and all the establishments. He thinks, however, 
his firm would continue to print Bibles. Mr. Spottiswoode has never seriously 
contemplated the step of interfering with the Bihles of Bs^ster and Amolo, 
Knight, Matthew Henry, T. Soott, A. Clarke, Dobbin, and others. He thinks 
Bagster's edition by no means equal to his own, or those of Oxford and Cam- . 
bridge, " in point of beauty and price." As regards accuracy, he offers no opinion. 
He admits that it is vray possible that there have been "minor inaccuracies" in 
the Queen's printers' Bibles printed in former years within the eiistenoe even of 
the present patent. The marginal " references " are regarded as part of the 
" Authorised " Bible ; they received their " final " revision about a century ago, 
at the hands of Dr. Blayney. The law about the printing of other versions 
appears to be rather uncertain, but Mr. Spottiswoode says he would not in(«rrere 
vrith any oopy of the Scriptures distincUy purporting to be different IWim the 
Authorized Version. Nor does he otgect to Knight's Fict«iial Bible, which does 
profess to be the Authorized Version. 

Mr. Spottiswoode nss cross-examined by Mr. Baines and Mr. Bright. In 
reply to the former, he admitted that since the abolition of the Scottish monopoly 
the price of Bibles had been reduced by one-kklf, but he was not prepared to say 
that the reduction took plaoe " wholly in consequence of that <£uige." There 
has been a reduction in the price of paper and labour. There are five firms 
engi^ed in printing the Bible in Scotland, whoee issue is about one-seventh of 
that of the flaglish patentees. There is no penal^ in esse of any want of accu- 
racy. The BiWe altered by "learned theologians" did not take in America, the 
old Authorized Version being preferred by the pubUo. 

" Why should it not be so in England a/orHori ?" asked Mr. Baines. " If 
the Bible printing were openin this country, why should the public not be in- 
fluenced by the same motives, thfe same love of aocuraoy, and the same love, if 
you like, of what is old, and reject, that which is supposed to be inaccurate, and 
which is new?" — "No doubt thej would: but there would be no authorized 
editions then to fall back upon; they fell back in Amerioa upon the British 
editions." 

It appears &om Mr. S.'a eridence that Scottish Bibles are prohibited in Ei^- 
land. Asked by Mr. Bright whether any one might print the Bible by leaving 
out the words "Authorized Version,"- he! declared his incompetence to decicfe 
"rather nice pointe of law." It seems that Mr. Spottuwoode has a standard copy 
of the Bible, that the University of Oxford lias a standard, and that the Univer- 
sity of Cambridge has a standard — all distinct. Mr. Bright asked — 



l.^byCOOl^lC 



1859.] InieUigence. 213 

"Mg,y not the Scriptures nbich are being circulated through the country be 
Tery different, at least in punctuation and those minor matters P — I should doubt 
whether there was an; difference. 

" But you still are of opinion that though ;ou are quite cabbie or keeping 
the matter quite right with three printers, if there were thirteen, some great 
discrepancy would arise P^If the thing were generally open, I think it is pro- 
bable, judging from euoh eii«rience as we have, that errors might arise," 

There are no Bible printers in Ireland, though ttie Queen's printer and 
Trinity College, Dublin, have the right. There has never been any misunder- 
standing with Mr. Bagster. Did not recoEect having published two catalogueB, 
one in November, 1840, the other in February, 1841, in the first of which the 
Hggregate of the prices of all the various editions was Wl. \». Gd., and the aggre- 
gate of all those in the latter was 91. 14i. bd. 

The second witness was Mr. Besley. Asked how, in his opinion, the patent 
had interfered to cramp the free circulation of the Scriptures, he replied : — 

" Previous to the inquiry of 1830, notwithstanding all the advantages of a 
return to the paper duty, and long numbered editions with an almost certmn sale. 
Bibles aud Testaments were high-priced books ; they are now sold at a little more 
than half the then price, but the public have no security whatever in this patent 
a^nst a return to the old scale of prices, eioept by some wholesome competition 
in the usual way, I have never been an advocate for mere cheapness, but am 
anxious to see some of the improvements of modem printing apphed to the 
Scriptures. At present, to my mind, the editions now in general use are the 
most uncomfortable books to handle that can be devised ; firom generation to 
generation we have the same class of book, the same awkward size, and the same 
uninviting page. Throw open the trade, and the mechanical intelligence applied 
to secular books vrill find its way to the Scriptures ; and more attractive books 
will be produced ; so that while the patent affords the pubhc no protection, either 
in price or accuracy, it deprives them of all benefit from competition in the 
variety and excellence of the books produced." 

Does not think the correctness of the text would be endangered by the trade 
brang thrown open. It would be the printer's interest to make the edition cor- 
rect. If incorreot, a large edition might be thrown on his hands. The best pro- 
tection the public can have will be found in ordinary commercial principles. 
Bagster's Polyglot Bibles, which are contraband, and liable to prosecution any 
day, have a world-wide reputation as the most correct books eitant ; they are 
printed in seven or eight ififferent languages, and are appealed to by the learned 
as correct books. He thinks Bibles may, under the Itee-trade system, be printed 
even cheaper than at present. Some of the advantages of the abolition of the 
patent would, in his opinion, be these :— - 

" My impression is, that the abolition would be an immense saving In the 
printing of Bibles and Testaments ; the giving power to the Queen's printer to 
prevent any other person printing, except the two universities, involves higher 
considerations than more money saving ; by this you obstruct, to a large extent, 
the natural circulation of the Scriptures, and render a cbaj^table institution 
necessary, with large funds, to effect that which, by the abolition of that mono- 
poly, would be effected by the ordinary operations of trade. I think great pubUo 
advantages would follow the introduction of new interests in the dissemination of 
the Scriptures through the length and breadth of the land. The intelligent 
working mau has a deep-rooted objection to Bibles and Testsments marked with 
the badge of charity ; mere price is no objection. Here Is a prospectus of a Bible 
published in Glasgow. I find in my own establishment there are forty-two per- 
sons subscribing for this Bible 6J. a week." 
Great numbers of the Scotch Bibtes ai 
are contraband. In his behef working me 

" Lord S,. Montague : Do you not think, if there were no Anthorized Bditions, 
that we should luve inaccurate editions ? — Not in the least, you have that risk at 
present ; if I choose to print an inaccurate edition the patent does not meddle 
with me. 



...CbyCOO^^IC 



214 Intelligence, [October, 

Then vbii vovM be the advants^ of doing airaj with the patent ? — It would 
enable all sorts of people to employ tbemselvee in printing better books, and we 
should not onlj have a competitioD in prices, but in quality ^so. 

Bo long as tb^y are printed worse the patent does not interfere with you F It 
only interferes with aocorsto books, 

Mr, Swing : I suppose you can print the AuUiorized Termon, provided you 
do not say Hiat it is the Authorized Version ?— You may do it, but it is a contra- 
band trade ; the patentees may come down upon you, and apply to the Lord 
Chancellor for an injunotioD, although you do not say so. 

Ml. Bright ; Would that risk deter printers from inTeeting fiiuds in the bua- 
nesB of printing Bibles 7 — I think it would deter persona like myself; I should 
not like to be engaged iu a contraband trade. I think it would deter a great 
many men with 1^^ establishments going into the trade. 

You speak of the Bible as a book which is not oonvenient, and which has not 
undergone the improvementa which are introduoeable in other publications ; do 
you not think that there have been a great many improvements in Bibles of late 
years ? — A great many, but th^ still want the gpor of competition ; I am sure 
that, it this patent were thrown open I could make some betler books, and I 
should like to try." 

Thinks if the trade were thrown open, the circulation of the Bible would be 
B&nulated. For instance, the publishers of the Glasgow Bible canisss generally 
throughout the oountry. Thmka also that the reprinting of the Bible would 
transfer eome portion of the supply from the eleemosynary assistance of the Bible 
Societies to the independent purchaaee of the working ola^es. Mr. Beelej shewed 
why, in his belief, printors could bring out the Bible very cheaply' : — 

" There are a great number of printing-ofBoes in London wMoh oooasonally 
are subject to very oonsiderable variatioDs, and great slackness oocaraonally. It 
would be an excellent thing for those large employers to have an opportunity of 
tnvestiog a Uttle capital, so as to keep their workmen employed," 

For himself, he would not attempt to get up any of the cheap (such as the 
tenpenny) editions. Some of the other Biblee are not cheap by any means. 

The third witness examined was Mr, Charles Childs, of Bun^y, who was, 
with his late &ther, nudnly instrumental in the formation of Mr. Hume's com- 
mittee in 1837, which was folbwed by the aboUtion of the Bible monopoly in 
Scotland, Mr, Childs is largely engaged in printing for some of the leading 
London publishers. The evidence he gave was very elaborate and valuable. We 
con only indicate its salient featurea. Before the abohtion of the Scotch patent, 
he believed the !Qnglish patentees had not adopted those economical means which, 
printers subject to competition do adopt, and which they have thenuselves since 
adopted. In March, 1838, the English privileged printers reduced the price of 
some of their Bibles some twenty-five per cent,, the rate which his father, seven 
years previous, had declared they might be printed at. The reduction of fifty-five 
per cent, upon the aggregate made by the English patentees was made, not gra- 
dually, but within three months, and eiacUy when the Scottish competition was 
set up. If the trade were thrown open, thinks there would be much greater 
competition by the great London printer*, such especially sa are slack during two 
or three months of the year, Tbej would be sBtisfied with no more than their 
ouiity. 

"Chairman: For the purpose of keeping together their establishment of 
skilled workmen, they woiUd employ them, even although they got no profit at 
all ? — I think the means of keeping them t<^ther, they having a certain return 
of their outlay, would ofibrd a large benefit, equivalent to a large profit, to the 
London printers. 

Mr. Bright : You conrider that it would be a great advantage if they oould 
save theb: expenses? — Yes, if they saved their expenses. Every Maneheet^- 
numu&oturer knows perfecUy well what that means." 

Did not believe the restriction had tended te promote or secure accuracy. He 
quoted some of the evidence given before the committee in 1831, from which it 
appeared that Dr. Blayney's— the standard edition — was fHill of inacourades. 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] InteUigence. 



For instance, 

in liiB hand " 

w&H entirely left out. Mr. OSbr, who had taken great interest in the subject, 
had never seen one Bible that was correct. The most correct he (Mr. O.) had 
ever seen were those of Fafhun, an unauthorized printer, and an Edlnburj^h 
edition of 1811. Id one Bible, a Bohool-fellow of Mr. Offer's found upwards of 
13,000 errors, receiving lOi. ftrom the Archbishop of Cauterbiirj' for his trouble. 
That was fifteen years ago. The Bibles which hod the reputation of being the 
moat beautiful, or the most accurate, are Macklin's, Baskwville'B, Heptinatall'fl, 
Bitchie's, and Bowyer's, All these persons were unauthorized printers. 

" There is not, bo far as I know, a single Bible which has the reputation 
amongst Bible collectors of comparatively mcSem dale, of being very beautiftil 
or very acourate, which waa printed by the authorized printers." 

The Cambridge standard editions had been found in his establishment ftill of 
errors and vartatione. Believed the Bibles up to 18S6 " were the most inaccurate 
books in erifltenoe." The increased acoumcy since 1B37 was ovring partly to the 
public attention given to the subject^ and partly to the increased vigilance of the 
privileged printers in consequence of increased competition. 

"Mr. Bright: What, in your opinion, woiJd result, as to accuracy, from 
throwing open the patent P — Mr. Spottiswoode stated on Thursday, with great 
accuracy and propriety, and, as I conceived, thereby throwing overboard any im- 
pression that the patent iteelf imposed penalties, that the cbaracter of the printers 
was ultimately the great security for the accuracy of the Bible. Now, I am per- 
fectly assured that, if the printing of the Bible were thrown open, none but 
large printers, who have large capital, and who have the best machinery, and 
altogether the beat means of competing, would venture to print Bibles. I believe 
the price would be so low that no one would venture to go into the trade in the 
hope of any considerable profit, or even of a chance of return, unless prepared 
with, every possible means of practising economy. This being the case, the 
character of such printers would be aa important to them as that of the present 
privileged printers, because it is, I think, perfectly certain that if a Bible, with a 
prinlePs name attoohed to it, came to be known to be inaccurate, no Bible, bear- 
ing the same name, would ever again be tolerated in this country, so great do I 
b^eve the public vigilance to be on the subject. Dr. Lee was of the same opinion ; 
and Mr. Offer, who had opportunities of knowing the opinions of other gentlemen 
similarly situated, stated, that if the printing of Bibles were thrown open, he 
beheved that there were persons who would devote their whole lives to the prepa- 
ration of inunaculate editions of the Scriptures." 

Bid not think small printers would embark iu the trade. It costa as much to 
print a correct as an inaccurate Bible. Behevea there are a dozen printers in 
London who would turn out accurate Bibles. 

" Mr. Bright : Something was said I think by Mr. Spottiswoode, about the 
printing of the Bible in the United States : can you give us any information upon 
that subject P^Evidence was given in 1831 and in 1837 upon the subject, but 
that evidence is not available now because the lacts are very much altered. It is 
quite true that EngUsh Bibles are exported to a large eitent to the United Statee, 
and I believe to a ^ger eitent than Mr. Spottiswoode is aware of. The reason, 
I think, is very obvious — that in the United States skilled labour is exceedingly 
rare and costly. I may mentiou as an illustration of this, that seven or eight 
years ago a gentlemau from the United States, who went as a lad from my offioe 
in ISIT, returned to this country a man of fortune, and wishing to see the old 
place, he found in our establishment a number of workmen who were workmen 
there when he left thirty-five years previously, and instead of regarding that fact 
as somewhat creditable both to master and workmen, as we should in this country, 
he spoke of it with positive horror, remarking that in the United States any man 
who did not become a master in seven year?, was looked upon as a drunkard or an 
imbecile. In such a state of tilings it is impossible that skilled labour or work 
depending upon minute, patient, personal observation, should ever be cheq>. It 
is a fact tdso that peoj^ will not use common shabby Bibles ; it you give a poor 



^byCOOl^lC 



216 Intelligence. [October, 

person in this country a Bible which is badly bound and printed, he will not 
thank you for it ; and as the people in the United States cannot produce handsome 
Bibles at a cheep wte, and the coat of freight to the United 8tat<a is exceedingly 
low, it a considered necessary in the United States te import our good Biblee." 

Thought there was " a most nervous apprehension in the public mind abont a 
guarantee for accuracy, and would not be satisGed without one." 

" 1 am sure that if the printing of the Bible were thrown open, the Britjsh 
and Foreign Bible Society, the Society for Promoting ChrUtian Knowledge, the 
Religious Tract Society, the Sunday School Union, all the Missionary SocietJea, 
and all the inBtitutiona which are of a benevolent and literary character would 
themselves guarantee the Bibles which they supply to the public, having passed 
them first under their own competent observation, and that no Bibles would be 
sold in England except those which had the guarantee of some great public body 
poaaeasing a high character." 

Mr. Childs went a good deal into the history of the English patent. Pay- 
ments had been made in former times by the patentees, but not lately. Believed 
IVom the facts of the catie that the patent was in the first instmiae entirely and 
exclusively a patent of privilege for the benefit of the patentee, and not for any 
other purpose whatever. There is nothing referring to having a pure copy of the 
Scriptures. Thought thot the Crown could have had no right to grant the patent. 
Did not believe tiie remark of the Scoteh Bible Board — " we are aware that 
scarcely any degree of attention can secure an exact reprint" — was practically 
true, and he was borne out by the privileged printers who say they beheve their 
Bibles to be " abaolutelj immaculate." Had printed Bibles himself in which only 
one error was discovered. Beliered the American Bible Society did not abandon 
the Bibles they used because of inaccuracies, hut because they thought better to 
adopt the English Authorized Version, which could be procured cheaper in Eng- 
land than America. Did not think there has been the s^ne inaccuracy since 
1833. Understood that measures had heen taken by the two universities to secure 
complete harmony between the editions printed respectively by them. 

" Mr. Selwyn ; Ton do not wish us to believe that, in any yew since 1833, 
there have been any such errors P — I adduced the diucropanoiea existing in those 
two editions as indications that the possession of an exclusive privilege does act 
insure accuracy. 

1 will thank you to answer my questions, and not te argue. In the evidence 
you have given respecting the inaccuracies which you have stated to exist, you 
were referring to a period antecedent to 1833, and do not wish the Committee to 
understand yim as representing that there are any such inaccuracies in the Bibles 
printed since 1833 P^I expressly stated that those variations existed in the editions 
pubhshed in X833 ; I mode no statement respecting Bibles published since that 

You do not wish yonr former evidence to be understood as objecting to any 
Bibles published since that period ? Cert«inty not ; nor was my evidence on that 
point given for such a purpose." 

Only printers of capital could keep the type always set, or a large stock of 
stereo-plates. Did not believe any Bibles would be sold which had not some 
guarantee. M'Phun's Scotch Bibles were sold in England, and believed others 
were also sold largely. 

M[. Pardon, of tbe firm of Beed and Pardon, printers, was for some tdme 
manager at Messrs. Bagsters'. Beheved their Bibles te be equally accurate aa 
those of the patentees. Had Ibund blunders in Blajney's Bible : — 

" Bagsters' references are considered very much superior te the references in 
the University books, inasmuch as tbe University books contain a large number 
of repetitions, as may be seen at a glance ; those repetitions are expunged in 
Bagsters', and their place filled up with references which are realty explanatory, 
and are not, as in Blayney's in thousands of instances, merely verbal ; they are 
simply a concordance, instead of being explanatory of the text." 

Bagsters' Bibles, although higher in price, have an immense sale in conse- 
quence of the superiority of the references. Cue of the many discreptmoiea that 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Intelligence. 217 

occur in the editioni of the Bible in common droulatioii, it the omission of the 
word " and " in the &moua passBge from St. John's Qospel — " 1 am the wsy, and 
tJie truth, and the life." If twentr Bibles were opened now, aajs Mr. ftirdon, 
jou would probably find that one half would omit the flrst " and." The following 
reply is as smart aa it is ooDolusive : — 

" Lord Robert Cecil ; Do jou say that Bagsten* Bible sells more than the 
University Bible P — Not at aU, because by far the liffgast number of the UniTer- 
sity and Queen's Printers' Bibles are oiruulated amongst the humbler classee. 

Then how do you ascertain the iuorease in the sale of one over the other ? — 
The; are most esteemed by tiie educated classes. 

What test do you use for arriving at the opinion of the educated olasses ? — 
I observe, for instance, that where a testimonial consisting of a Bible is to be 
g^ven to an individual, one of Bsgsters' is usually &ied upon. That is one. 

Tou are of opinion that this is done in the majority <rf eases P — Tea." 

There is no absolute standard of perfection in Bible editions. The references 
of the patentees' Bibles have never been changed since the revision fifty or raity 
years ago by Dr. Blayney. 

The evidence of Mr. F. Wame, of the publishing firm of Messrs. Boutledge, 
was not of great imporfanoe, his knowledge of Bible printing appearing to be 
scanty in the extreme. Did not in a " trade " point of view care to do away with 
the monopoly, but objected to monopoEea as such. Could not produce a Bible at 
a lower price than 5d. Does not think it right that Bibles may be exported &om 
England to Scotland, and not from Scotland to England. Thmlta firee competi- 
tion the proper principle. There would then, he thinks, be as much accuracy as 
at present, but it would be necessary to have a penalty of some kind. If small ' 
publishers entered into the trade there might be errors in the Bible. Thought 
oue or two incorrect editions might be sold before the errors were diiwovered. 

The Eev. Dr. Caswall, a minister of the Episcopal Church in Amerira, was 
the next witness examined. The following extract from the first part of his eri- 
dence will bo found of general interest :— 

"Is the Church connected with the State in America P — The Church is in no 
respect connected with the State, except in so ^ as its endowments are protected 

Sr the State, and inasmuch as difficulties arising between its bishops and the 
ergy, or the clergy and the people with respect to property, may sometimes 
come before the oivQ courts. 

The endowments are protected by the State t* — The endowments are oonsider- 
able, and are and have generally been protected by the State, even through the 
period of the American revolution. 

Sir Charles Douglas : Will you explain what you mean by l)elng pvtected by 
the Stat« ? — For example, Queen Anne gave a portion of ground to Trinity 
Church, New York ; that land has become exceedingly valuable, and is still the 
endowment of Trinity Church, New York, although now it is worth several 
inilhons of pounds, on account of a large part of New York standing upon that 
ground. In 1857, the value of this property, as proved to a Select Committee of 
the Legislature of the State of New York, was 7,090,544 dollars. Previous to 
the American Revolution a quantity of land had been given to the Church of 
England in New Hampshire and Vermont. At the time of the American Revo- 
lution that property was confiscated, but was afterwards recovered by an action 
brought by the Chiuvih agunst the States of Termont and New Hampshire, 

Lord Robert Montagu : The endowments are very large, you say P — In some 
cases they are very large. 

Sir Charles Doi^las: I do not quite understand your eiplanation when you 
say they are protected by the State P — The American Church sells its property 
and receives its rents under the authority of the State, and, it is protected in its 
property by the State in reference to its endowments, as our endowments here 
are protected. 

Does it differ in any respect ffora any other church in the United States ?— 
No ; it does not differ in that respect from any other denomination of Christians 
in Uie United States ; ail are alike protected in thar endowments. 



.byCoOi^lc 



218 Intelligence. [October, 

Lord Robert Honla^ : What in the prevuling religion of the United States ? 
— I shouid define the prevailing religion in the United States to be a general 
Protestantiam, although there ore also man; Homati Catholics. 

Bv ProteetantiBin do you metui that which resemblea the Church of Eneland ? 
— I do not mean by Fcoteatontism the Church in America which reeemblee the 
Church of Ei^land. I include it, however, in that term. 

I9 that Church which resembles the Church of England the majority ?~It ia 
not the majority, and never has been. 

What is considered the basiB of American Protealantism ?— The Bible is con- 
ndered the baing of American FroteetantiBm. 

What version of the Bible ?— The commonly received English verrion is con- 
sidered to be the Bible. 

The Authorized Version of this country P — Tee. 

Is it generally received by aJI the Proteatant eeote, or only by the Episoopa- 
lifUlB ? — It is generally received by all the Protestant seats, with a few exceptions. 

What do you understand b; the common English Bible ; do you understand 
the version of 1611, as corrected by Dr. Blayney? — I understand by that the 
version of 1611, as oorreoted by Dr. Blayney in 1769." 

The reason why a standard 1ms been adopted in America is because of the 
errors that have crept into the American editions. There is no fixed super- 
vision in America, but the American Bible Society exeroiaei great infiuenee in 
regulating the standard of the Bible. It 'has become virtually a guide.' That 
society greatly altered the text of the English edition, and made 24,000 correc- 
tions. That standard was, however, abolished in 1857, public opinion b^ng 
against it. Did not think it would be a benefit to do away with the patent. It 
win tend to introduce errors into our theology. Greater ohes^nees can only be 
obtained by diminishing the quality of the mper. The English Authorized Ver- 
non is in great request by members of the Episoopol Church in America. The 
English Bibles are there as cheap sa the American, Thinlis there may be other 
ways of insuring accuracy besides the monopoly, such as a Committee of Bevi- 
sion. The public feehng obliged the vrithdniwal of the American Bible Society's 
edition, and thinks it " not improbable " that the same causes would in Euj^land 
operate to enforce the aocuracy of editions. The chances here are more favour- 
able than in America. The closing part of Dr. Caswall'a evidence was as follows : — 

" Chairman : Do you think tl^t the people of the United States would consent 
to the printing of tne Bible being made a monopoly as it is in England P^It 
would never answer under American institutions ; it could not be ; the different 
State Legislatures are independent of each other, and it could not be. 

Do you think it would be an advantage to have a monopoly of that kind esta- 
blished in the United States P — I consider that the greatest calamity to religion 
in America would be the interference of the State with religious matters, or with 
the Bible, in any way whatever, constituted as the gener^ government luid the 
Statu governments at present are. 

Lord Robert Montaeu : — You said it would not be a benefit if the State were 
to interfere with the Church in America ? — I said it would be a great injury to 
the Church in America if such a State as eiista there interfered with the Church. 

Why BO P — The State consists of a great variety of rehgions and irreligions ; 
for instance the Mormons. Here is a Mormon Bible (producing the same). 

Mr. Ewart : Does not the position of the Church conduce to greater freedom 
of Bvnodica] action P — It does. 

Therefore the action of the Church b much freer than in this country ? — It 
is freer, but there are disadvantages connected with that freedom. 

It has a greater power of synodical action ? — It has perfect freedom in syno- 
dical action, and in the election of bishops." 

The Hev. C. G. Ckyton, tutor of Caius College, Cambridge, thinks that the 
withdrawal of tho patent for the printing of Bibles would raise their prioe, and 
cause them to be ^ less accurate ; they are now sold by the Britjsh and foreign 
Bible Society at lOd. and 9d., while New Testaments may be had for 4d. Doc- 
trinal errors, too, might creep in, if the trade was tiirown open. Mr. Clayton 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Inlelliffence. 219 

thinka trw ooarpeHUon, m a general rule, an advftntage; but he will not tUow it 
BB regarda the printing of Bibles. In this case oheapnesB and goodness ore beet 
promoted by monopol;. Public opinion is bo olive that public agitation would 
prevent the patentees Tnao combining to raise the price of Bibles, though the; 
have the power. 

" The Ch airman : Tou think that public opimon is a valuable cheek P — Upon 
this monopoly. 

Do you not think that public opinion would be a very valuable check also in 
regard to aoouiacy i* — Not if the Bible were very widely published by small Irre- 
sponsible publishers. 

Supposing that editions of the Bible were published at the same prios with 
the imprimatur of some great learned body connaoted with the State Church or 
otherwise, such as the British and Foreign Bible Sodet^i do you not think that 
these editions would sell in preference to editions which bad it not F — I Hunk not 
with the poor. 

Would not the bookselleni be aware of the superior value of one edition over 
another ?— I think as a rule they would sell that which produced the greatest 
amount of profit, irrespective of accuracy. 

Would they get mora proflt out of an inacourate edition than tiiey would out 
of an accurate ecUtion P — It might be so. 

la it probable 7 — I think so. 

For what reason F — If less oare be bestowed on the printing of tlLe Bible, and 
in correcting the press, the expense of the book would be less." 

Hr. Clayton's reasoning is peouhar. If the restriction were abolished he 
thinks that the workiug-man would buy anything that was oflbred to him, under 
Uie name of the Bible. Mr. Clayton goes so &r as to say, that supposing " a 
real improvement" were suggested by some scholar in the translation of any 
word in Oxford and Cambrii^ Bibles it would not be introduced. 

The last person examined was Mr. T. Coombe, superintendent of the Oxford 
University Press. The University never make any alteration in tbeir Bibles, but 
offer a guinea for every error discovered in any of their books. The reward has 
only been p^d three times in twenty years. Thinks the Bible the most difficult 
book in the world to print correctly. Believes it to be the oheapest printed book 
in the world. Prefers Blayne^s references to Ba^stera' — they are much longer. 
The witness was cloeely cross-examined by Mr. Bright and the Chairman, as the 
ibllowing will shew ; — 

"Mr, Bright ; If Dr. Blayney was so much in enw in the text, wrong in the 
0^>italB, vrrong in the doctrine, wrong everywhere, according to your statement, 
how happens it that he was right in all his references F — Dr. Blayney's text was 
an incorrectly printed text, but I am not aware that he made any violent altera- 
tions in the text. He altered the contents of the chapters, and made consider^lB 
alterations in many of them, and, as we leam from Dr. CaaweU, many of them 
contained positive points of doctrine. 

If Dr, Blayney took such liberties with his edition, how comes it that you 
rely entirely upon his references P — The references are found quite correct ; I do 
not see that he could introduce doctrine or anything of that sort into the refer- 
ences ; he merely added to them, and made them much more numerous than they 
were before, and they are considered the most correct series of references wo have 
ever had." 

Thought the greater reductions in price " u'ose almost entirely " from ohet^ier 
paper, ete. AAerwards, when pressed by Mr. Bainee, he said he thought it " one 
of the mun oausea of the reduction," But it was before his time. Could not 
sa^ what proportion of Bibles were printed in England. Has no communication 
with the Queen's Printer whatever, but has generally followed his reduction in 
price. If the prices were reduced suddenly thinks it a proof rather of bad ma- 
nagement than of exorbitant profits. If the trade were thrown open should pro- 
bably continue to print Bibles. They would start afresh with a certain prestige. 
No doubt the leading societies would be on the watoh to guard against inaccurate 
editions. Incorrect books would however be sold. "It might take years to dis- 



.byCOOl^lC 



230 Intelligence. [October, 

cover them." As u Bpeoimen of the laot of the Chairman in elioitii^ the truth 
we m^ make the following aitiaot from the evideQce : — 

" Haye you any idea of the number of Bibloa printed in Scotland, as oompared 
with those issued fVom your own presa P — 80 fiir as I can rememlwr, I think we 
print more than twice the number of Bibles printed in Scotland alt^^ther. 

Tou mean by all the printers in Scotland taken together ?— Yes ; the yearly 
ayerage of Bibles printed in Scotland, from 1950 to 18&4, was 183,000 ; whereas 
we print yearly between 400,000 and 500,000 ourselyes. 

Chairman : Do you know the average in Scotland from 1854 to 1858 P — No, I 
do not ; they do not giye it in their report. 

Look at this report, which ha« just been printed by the House of Commoos ? 
— According to this document it appears that the yearly average, from January 
1654 K) January 1858, was 250,000 ; that is rather an increase. 

It is a considerable increage, is it not ? — Yes. 

Mr. Selwyn: Is it not very much less than the number issued from your 
press P — Tea ; I should say we print, probably, double the number. 

Chairman ; Are jou aware of the oomparatJve population of Sootland and 
England?— I am not. 

If you found that the population of Scotland was only about a sLith of the 
population of England, the tact you mention would be less surprising P — I do not 
know that it would, because I do not oomrider that the 260,000 Bibles printed in 
those four years in Scotland were used by the Scotch people ; I dare say that 
maOT were sold in America and in England. 
" Tou do not consider that all your Bibles are sold in England ?— No. 

I am afr»d that some were sold in ScoUand P— Some were sold in Scotland. 

Do YOU think it just that you should he allowed !« supply the people of Soot- 
land with IJiblee, but that they should not be allowed to supply England with 
Bibles F — They do supply us. 

They cannot by law ?— They are not prevented. 

Tou are aware that the patent allows the Queen's printer to prevent the im- 
portation of Bibles from Scotland ? — But he does not. 

Supposing that were enforced, would tliat be just ? — That is a point which I 
do not think I am called upon to answer ; it involves a great many cousiderationa. 

TAe Vatican Codex. — A very able and searchii^ paper on the above celebrated 
manuscript of the Greek Testament has lately appeared in Tilait, a monthly 
magazine, edited by the Rev. George Gilfillan.' Such is the importance of the 
article that we should have been gtad to transfer it to our own pi^es ; but as this 
is not permitted, we take leave to extract the following passages : — 

" Itt tappoied Resmablance to a Henmlantam MS. — ftofessor Hi^, in his 
description of the MS., avers that Winckclmann, desirous of giving a correct idea 
to scholars at home of the character of the MS3. first unrolled at Herculaneum, 
referred them to the celebrated Vatican Codox as that which possessed the most 
marked resemblance to them. ' Dootis hominibus optimum consilium imperiJri 
sibi videbatur, quandoquidem desideraront efformare animo quandam elGgiem 
oharactermn Herculaniensium tum quod magnitudinem, turn i^uod figurem, cum 
eos ad Bibliothecse VaticaniB Codicem celeberrimum remitteret, utpote oiyus 
summa cum lllia aimilitudo intercederet.' That opinion is ijuoted by Hug from 
a work now a hundred years old, published at Dresden in 1762, and through 
Hug it has wended its way int« all lands, and established itself as it would seem 
to the satisfaction of all minds as an indisputable fact. Hug himself adopted it 
and put it out in two forms ; that of his Latin Essay, 1809, and that of his 
JEWeifadij of a later date, saying in the former, ' Character, quod aJunt, eiacte 
qnadratuH est, majusculus et simillimus illi, qui in voluminibus conspioitur ex 
Heroulanenai strage protractis ;' and in the latter— we quote ftx)m tiie fourth 
edition — ' Mit den einfhchst«n und Schfinsten, uberall gleiohformigen viereohigen, 
Buchslaben geschrieben welche kaum bemerklich grO^r als die schrifliEiige dea 

' Tilaa, a monthly magazine. August, 1859. London : Hogg and Co. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



1859.] Intelligence. 221 

PlulodemuB T(pi /""""fiis der erst«D aus den auf^omckelten herkulanischen 
EoUen.' This is reproduced by sundry writers after him in the ahape of 'a 
beautiful uncial oh^acter, very similar to those found in the treatise of Philode- 
muB ' 'The letters are a shade larger than those io the MS. ufPhilodemus 
vtpi noiwiKiji, the first of the HerculSDeum rolls which was unfolded,' tiE at last 
it has effloresced in the imaginative sorites of Dr. Tregelles ; — ' The antiquity of 
the M8. is shewn hy its paleographio peouliarities, the letters even resembUng, 
in maDy respeota, those found in the Herculauean rolls ; the form of the book ; 
the six columns at each opening resembling in appearance, not a little, a portion 
of a rolled book ; the umformity of the letters ; and the absence of all punc- 
tuation.' 

"Now with r^ard to this resemblance, it may be sufficient to remind our 
renders that Wlni^elmann si^gested it purely as an aid to the imagination of 
scholars who had never seen a Herculanean roll, that if the; looked at a good 
tracing of the great Tatican MS. they would have a ^r idea of its character 
without any suggested comparison of their relative antiquities. With tiini it was 
merely a popular, not a oritical remark, and designed to bear no further results 
in biblical or theological disquisition. It may stand, however, without dispute 
on the general ground, that all square characters, if nearly of the same aiae, will 
have a certain degree of resembknce, besides the particular fact which we are 
little concerned to call in question, that tracings of the two documenta under im- 
mediate notice do show sufficient points of similitude. Dr. Hug introduces the 
casual remark of Winokelmann as a contribution towards fixing the ancient date 
of the manuscript. What so natural as that documents written in a similar hand 
should have had origin about the same period, within a space fay of two or three 
hundred years of each other, a small interval in comparative criticism, and in the 
history of man F Dr. Hug tVom his being a Koman Catholic divine would have 
no objection to exalt the venerable age of any document in possession of the 
Papal See, a process which would be the natural result of his ecclesiastical views 
and position, without any disparagement to his hterary honesty or capacity. We 
make no wilful reflection on either the fairness or the judgment of this scholar, 
when we take into account the Qecessary biaa of his education and position, as 
only a proper deduction from the sum of plemiry confidence in his critical deci- 
Mons. We may respect him personally aa much as any other soholM', but we 
must weigh his opioions before we can receive them as indisputable verdicts and 
settled truths. 

" The Uncial Character «o Decinve Proof of Extreme AtUiguily. — Whatever 
ftmcy or luxury might require in the shape of capital or uncial letters for manu- 
script — whatever weak eyes, long purses, or caprice m^ht demand, the cursive or 
running hand was common and contemporaneous with the more stately character. 
Boeckh's monograph on the subject is decisive (Berlin, 1821) . Capital letters 
written hurriedly become cursive in the process ; but there was also a distinct 
current band in use, as difierent as our Bioman capitals IWim our ordinary letteni. 
It were absurd to deny this in re^ons and ages wherein the Egyptian triple 
ohaiacter was well known, the hieroglyphic, demotic, and hieratic. It were absurd 
moreover to deny this in an i^ in which tacbygraphy and stenography were the 
accomplishments of the unanuenses, private secretaries, and learned slaves of 
every literary man. Our great lexicographer. Dr. Johnson's experiment with 
the boasted powers of a practised short-kiand writer, is familiar to all readers of 
Boswell, but the boast of the stenographer is vouched for as a reality in the epi- 
gram of Martial : — 

" Currant verba hcet, manus est velocior illis 
Nondum lingua auimi, deitra peregit opus." — Notamm, xiv., 208. 

" The words are said almost before he thought 'em ; 
And ere they quite are spoke the pen hath caught 'em." 



■ D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



222 Intelligence. [October, 

absolute proof that it ii older than an old oursive, it on ind^ieadtat groQodi, a 
Teoerable inljquit; amy be assigned to the text in the running-htuid. The one 
roAj be as old aa the other bo &r aa the character of tbe writing bears on the 
determination of their reepeotive ages. 

" Tlie fancied Smemblaaee of the FoticiM Cod^c to a Roll no proof of U» 
Age. — The maintainera of the antiquity of the MS. in question seem to iriBh it 
understood how lite a roll-book the Vatloan Codei is, in order that the conceded 
antiquity of the roll may invetit the square boot with its hoar of age. It ought, 
however, to be remembered that there were square boolu in all ages aa well as 
round onea, and that the round superseded the square in oertain regims of the 
earth for a few centuries, on the ground of tlieir greater compactness, neataees, 
portableness, and susceptibility of ornamentatioD. It must be obvioua in point of 
bet, that the square book preceded the round, inasmuch as the single papjniE 
leaf preoeded the a^lutinatiou of leaves into a continuous sur&ce for writing, 
and that single skins of parchment were used before the single skins were sewn 
or pasted together so as to form a roll. It is further oert^n that the term codex 
was confined to the quadratut lS>er, or square-shaped book, while tohtmen, or its 
Greek equivalent ttXq^ui, representod the roll. Works in parchment or skin so 
commonly assumed a square form that the word m«iiAn»u came to sonify a 
square volume and its pages, while eharta or fopgnu as n^ularly represented the 
BoroU. Martial is rich in proo& of the tabular shi^ or parchment bcxA aod 
page, as for instanoe in hia epigram on Viboil, liv. 186 ; — 

" Quam brevis, immeusum oepit membrana U 
Ipsius Tultua prima tabeUa gerit." 

" Mare, the mightiest singer of the age, 
Klls the few inohea of the opening page !" 



" All the aweet songs that Ovid wrote, the lover. 
Nestle within this thick am^ booldet's cover." 

" ITbe Aree words in the original, mamfold, man, and tablet, leave no room 
to doubt of the structure of the completed work. The sum of which quotatioos 
and statement is this— that the enthnsiast^o contenders for the antiquity of the 
Vatican Codei expend their labour in vun when they aeek to maintaia their point 
by appraiimating the MS. in sbape and years to the scroll class of books : that 
there never nas on exclusive roll-period of bookmaking antecedent and giving 
way to a square book period in historical times ; and that the attempt to bolster 
up the antiquity of the Vatican document bf declaring that it resembles a scroll 
either in its outward or its inward aspect, only has the effect of making ua doubt 
the truth of statements which rest on reasons so easily controverted. Modem 
Persia presents a use of square books and rolls simultaneoualy, and we have no 
more reeson to suppose in its oase than iu that of ancient Greece and Eorae, that 
there ever was a period when the use of either form of book was eiolusive." 

We must omit a valuable paragraph on " The three coUtmae of text o» a page 
HO errideiKe of the anHqvify of the MS.," in order to make room for the still more 
important remarks of the author on the — 

" CharacterutiBi of the Codex. — In the omission of par^raphs the Vatican 
MS. ma; be called a compendious New Test«ment, bearing resemblance in this 
respect (but only partially) to the shorter edition of the Ignatian Letten, or the 
text of Josephua current among the Jews, according to NaudS. Allowing for a 
considerable number of omissons fhim overset, homceoteleuton, and other 
inevitable causes, certain others cannot be assigned to any such reasons aa these ; 
they have been left out on purpose. And liMioe arises the question : is this a 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] MelHgence. 223 

ohttcal edition of the Naw Testiunent proceediog fW>m the scribe himself F or i« 
he a copier of a critical teit already in eiistence, which varied from the l«it in 
oommon oiroulatiOQ amonget the ohurohea of the fourth and fifth oeDturiei ? If 
it be really concluded to be in either of these senses a critical text, it can have no 
other value in those pointa in which it dififers from the current teit of the same 
century, if that can be asoertaiDed, than that of eipressiiig the individud opinion 
of the transcriber at first or second hand. 

" Now, our Gxed idea is, that the transoribor is a critical editor to a certain 
extent, while in other cases his omUaions are unconscious, his ignorance demon- 
strative, and his carelessness extreme. Of course we do not attempt to say 
whether the chief characteristic features are ascribable to the present copyist, or 
to the writer of the exemplar which he followed ; nor again, whether ignorance 
or presumption of the later writer were the leading featm-es of his work. Where 
we travel so completely in the dark a« we do regarding the authorship of the 
Vatican MS., it behoveB us io bo chary of assertion, and prefer the modesty of 
suggestion to the pcremptoriness of dogma. Nevertheless we do not hesitate to 
say that the original author of the text it eiWbite meant to exercise a critical 
care in the edition he issued. The whole style of his handiwork proclaims a curt 
and compendious text, weeding out with unaparing hand the right and the wrong 
alike. Omission is the grand characteristic of the document, exclusion the rule 
enforced with pitiless uniformity. The editor of the original was evidently a per- 
son enamoured of that ' brevity ' which is ' the soul of wit.' He seems to have 
taken a full copy of the New Testament text into his hands, and to have ostra- 
cized into ruthless banishment all that did not suit his taste or meet his views. 
In this respect he bears resemblance to a gentleman mentioned in the correspon- 
dence of the Record, a little more than a year since, who epitomized the Holy 
Bible by cutting off every superfluous word, and every repetition so as to repro- 
duce the sacred volume in its essential integrity in a volume of one-siith of the 
usual size, yet of course stripped of the drapery of idiosyncrasy which marked 
the individuality of the sacred writers. . . , That a fair general idea may be formed 
of the synoptic character of this MS. we may state that on a close and tolerably 
accurate calculation made upon a personal collation of Mai's imprint, we are able 
to affirm, that about dm taenly-fifth part of the whole New Testament it ™( of 
from the reader, without any pre-intimation of the process of excision. 

" Tran»poiitiona are another characteristic of the Vatican Codex. . . . We can 
readily allow that Erasmus, the Stephens, IBeza, and the Elzevirs did tamper occa- 
sionally with the ordo verhamm, with the view of making rude Hellenistic Greek 
more musical to the classical ear ; but no amount of concession on this score oould 
lead us to the couolusjon that the numerous, startling and extravagant discre- 
pancies of word-arrangement in the Vatican MS. represent the true arrangement 
of words in the Apostolic autographs. /» Me fotir Goipeh aloae the tratwpori- 
tiottt amount to 712, or ex(Ktly eight for eaeh chirpler !" [The writer here refers 
to about 200 of these discrepancies in the single Gospel of Mark otdy]. 

We regret that we are obUged to omit here several p«^ of most interesting 
and valuable criticism on the numerous variations of this &mous Codex. Our 
last extract must be one upon the — 

" Valuv of the MS. i» BUtUcal Oi^icun.— Assuming even that it is as ancient 
a document as its advocates assert it to be, and as honest a representative of the 
text of its day as we oould desire, inasmuch as it has been proved to be incorrect 
in iundreda ofimtaaea where there is no question of intention, it must be used 
with critical caution and examined is a witness, not deferred to as a judge. Dr. 
Tregeltes is one of the prime advocates in modem days for the authoritative 
adoption of its readings, and, true to his principle of its paramount value, admits 
into his first chapter of Mark as many as eighty -one rariations from the text of 
Elzevir that are sanctioned by the Vatican Codex. . . . Right sure are we that 
scarcely one page of his moat laborious and beautiful edition of the Gospels of 
Matthew and Mark (Baester's) if closely examined, would Call to present the 
editor's bias towards yidding an undue place in criticism to this very old and 
very &kulty manuscript. We aie hUly aware how hard it must be, in many cases. 



.byCOOl^lC 



224 Intelligence. [October, 

to decide where authorities Beam pretty eveol; balanced, >iid hoir ui editur 
revising bia decigioiu at some lat^ period, may seem dieposed to rererse them 
when occasion offera. We, too, are bound to own that we are couaciouE of the 
same inevitable bias in favour of certain readings and authurildee, and how prone 
we are 1« err in directions the reverse of those advocated by Dr. Tregellee ; all 
therefore that we urge is urged against the learned gentleman's reeulbi, not bia 
processes, and with the most entire respect for his ability and labours. 

The conclusion reached by the author as to the actual value of the Codex 
may be briefly slated in his own words : — "Curiosity w now glutted; the credit 
of the Vatican MS. u now dead. Who, therefore, will ever thinlt of pub- 
lisbing it again ?" 

WhituMday. — Sir, I fear that many of yoitr readers moat think the ori^ 
and orthography of the name Whitsunday, notwithstanding the interestiDK 
letters you have pnbhshed, lo be still a contest of opposite probabiHtisB In which 
they must maintain a strict nentcality, while, doubtless, some boldly adopt the 
explanation of "all the talents" philological, and others in their hearts still 
cling to the time-hononred explanation of Kelson and Wheatley. Enough, then, 
of guesses at truth in this matter, and I wonld not now put pen to paper if I 
did not believe myself to he in possession of the true histery and meaning of 
the woid. In pointing this out, I shall be obliged to say in effect to your cor- 
respondents, like the chameleon in settling the dispute respecting his colour, 
" Yon all are right, and all are wrong ;" in other words, " You have a. degree of 
truth in your opposite opinions, but you are wrong in contradicting too Satly the 
assertions of your opponents." " Pfinasten, das Hebliche Feat," of the Germans 
— our cousins in race, langnage, and religion — may have had some effect in 
making Whitsunday so tborougbly a synonym of Pentecost as it is at the begin- 
ning of the Queen EHzabeth homily for the day. WhingsCen and other dialectic 
forms may also have helped to bring about the use of Whitsun as preBxed to 
tide, eve, week, Monday, Tuesday; hnt I am prepared to prove that Nelson, 
with Wheatley and other Knglish ritualists, is right in deriving Whitannday 
from White Sunday. Although Pentecost is used as the proper ecclesiastical 
name of the day in the Anglo-Sason Gospels and Homilies, there was a vemacnlar 
naeof "White Bonday" long before the thirteenth century, the earliest date 
assigned by one of your Pfingstenite correspondents. In the Angio-Saxm 
ChTonide we have — 

" A.D. 1067. — On thisan Eastron com se kyng to Wincestre, and tha wseron 
Eastra on x. kl. Aprl., and sona tefter tham com Mathild aen hliefdie hider to 
lande, and Ealdred arceb' hig gehalgode to cwene on Westmystre on hwitan 
sunnan d»g. 

"This Easter came the King to Winchester; and Easter was then on the 
10th before the calends of April. Soon after this came the lady Matilda hither 
to this land; and Archbishop Eldred hallowed her to queen at Westminster on 
Whitsunday." — Saxon Chnmide, od. Ingram, p. 268. 

For the suggestion of the foregoing passage, in illuatration of the qnestion, 
thanks are dne to the Rev. J. Earl, late Anglo-Haxon Professor at Oxford, who 
has just completed the mach-wanted new edition of the Chronicle. In a Semi- 
Saxon poem, A.B. 1205, we Bnd White-snnedffiie, Whiten sun en dai, White-aune- 
tide. See Layamoa'i Brut, ed. Sir F, Madden, vol. ii., pp. 308, 309; vol. iii., 
p. 267. The uist«ry of the name, which is thua proved to have prevailed so 
much earlier than is generally supposed, seems to be tbifl : — The solemn and 
canonical times for baptism were the eves of Easter and Pentecost, at 3 p.m., 
as noted hy Durandna. One of the names for the first Sunday after East«r was 
" DominicH in Albis" ("subaud. depositis," aaya Dn Cange), or " post albas" 
(sc. vestes), in memory of the white garments Uiat had been worn by the oate- 
chumens at their baptism on Easter Eve, and also during the pasehol festivaL 
Easter Sunday itself was called by the Greeks Kvptwc)) /iatrrpit, " Bright Sunday," 
partly, aa it would appear, on account of the joyful rising of the " Sun of 
Kghteonaness," and partly, also, on account of the white garments of the 
newly baptised not yet laid aside. It ia possible that the White Sunday of the 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] Intelligence. 

Auglo-S&xonB, like " Waisc 
troniilatioii of " Dominica in Albia, 
aame for the first 8anila7 after E^ter. Howevei thia may be, when once 
applied to the Chriatian festival of Pentecost, White Sunday was felt by every 
Saxon to be a most appropriate, expreBBive, and apeakable sabstituto for " Pen- 
toCoHteneB Msesse-dffig." I must, on Anglo-Saxon grounda, beg leave to think, 
ifith Bishop Sparrow and tbe piuns author of The Fiale and J'tatioofa, that we 
call thia festival Whitaunday, partly from the glorioas light of heaven which 
waa tbiB day sent down upon the eiuih from the " Father of lights," for freah 
Buppliea of which, moreover, we pro? in the collect for the day. In order to 
nnderstand the thomugb fitness of White Sunday as the Anglo-Saxon name for 
the Christian Pentecost, we mast remember that the white garments of the 
baptized were a token, not merely of their profession of the pure faith, hut also 
of their illumination, "illnminati" being in primitive times a favourite synonym 
for " baptizati." Compare St. John i. 9 ; Heb. vi. 4. We must further bear in 
mind that our Saxon forefathers made a distinction where we moke a ciinfiuion. 
We say " white lead," " white waah," " white paper," "dead white," " white as 
a sheet," etc. This quality of colour they rather expresaed by "bliec," the 
origin of our word "bleach," as applied to hnen. "Hwit," on the other hand, 
had usually a bright, happy^ and glorious meaning, applied to the bright shining 
light of heaveu, oud tbe glorious appearance of every being oud thing belonging 
to heaven. It is used by the poet Layamon as an epithet of the sun, and it 
denoted a more dazzling brightness than "beorht," juBt as in our present 
English, "white heat" is many degrees above "red hot." A candle was 
" bright," but the sun in heaven was " white." Hence this word, when used in 
reference to the Pentecost, would auggest to the mind of a pious Anglo-Saxon 
moBt oi' the thoughts and prayer of the beautiful old hymn— 
" Come, Holy Qbost, our soula inspire. 
And lighten wiUi celestial fire," etc. 
Some Anglo-Saxon light atill twinkles occasionally in our word "white," but 
it is in great danger of being t^uite put out b^ the spread of the dull, blank, and 
opaque meaning. The following passages illastrate the epithet "white" as 
applied to the Christian Pentecost : — 

" And goseah twegen englas eittan. mid hwitum reafe — and saw two angels 
sitting with white ii\ot\naa."— Anglo-Saxon Ga$peli, St. John xx. 12, sd. Thorpe 
" The ser wses engia scynoat 

Hwittost on heofnen." 
" Who of angels erst was brightest. 
Fairest (literally, whitest) in heaven. 
" His raiment was white aa the light."— <Sl 
In Johnson's JDicUonary, as the third meaning of " white," we find— 
" Having the colour appropriated to happineaa and innocence." 
" Welcome, pure-ey'd faith, white-handed hope, 
Thon hovering angel girt with golden winga, 
And thou nnblemisbed form of chastity." — MUton. 
" Peace o'er the world her olive-wand extend, 
And white-robed innocence from heaven descend." — i^^M. 
Compare also Milton's " white-robed trath " with " When He, the Spirit of 
truth is come. He will guide you into all truth ".(John ivi. 13). With regard 
to spelling and pronunciation, I have no wish to write or pronounce the 
name as White Sanday; but, on the other hand, I think we ought to abolish 
altogether the hyphen and second Capitol in this word, as needless, ugly, and 
inconvenient. Of course we cannot now write Whitaan-Day, which would be 
against our conscience ; while to write Whit-Snnday would bo needelsaly 
nncourteous towards the Pfingstenltes, who have given ua Bora^ information, 
convinced us in onr own opinion, and enabled ua to gain a small victory. Let 
VOL. X. NO. XIX. Q 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



226 Intelligence. [October, 

QH, therefore, in Kooordaiice wtth the'Keaeml practice of the Pm^er-book, the 
HomilieB, and of Antliora from the Reformation to the present day, write 
Wiiitsnnda]' in one word, placing the accent, as people nsnalty do, on the secoad 
ijUable. J. Baboh. 

Beotory, Upton Sondamore, Wilts, Angnst 6, 1859, 

SfBK SJiHon of the Codex AUxandrhMU. — MeeBTS. Trtibner ba,VB issued the 
following notice :^ — "The Alexandrine Codes, or Codei A, justly claima & fore- 
most place among manusonpts of the Greek Teetameut, and oritios aro unanimous 
in regwrding it as otie of the most venerable and valuable dooumente in existence. 
Tradition records that it was written in the fourth century by Thecla, an Egyp- 
tian Christian lady, and eminent names might be quoted in support of that 
opinion. Tisohendorf, Soholz, and other modem scholars, agree in aacribtng- it to 
the fifth century, a period considerably more ancient tbac can be assigned to auj 
other manuscript of the New Testament, with the exception of the Vatican Codei. 
and one very recently brought to li^t by Dr. Tischendorf, and still unpub- 

" This' &mous manuscript was presented to Charles I. in 1628, by Cyril lin- 
earis. Patriarch of Alexandria, and afterwards of Constantinople, — a truly royal 
gift. It is now one of the most precious treasures of the British Museum, and 
from the moment of ita arrival in England to the present day, it has attracted the 
attention of the most distinguished scholars of Europe. It has been often co!- 
lafed, and once published in facsimile by that erudite and accurate critic Woide, 
whose edition appeared in 1786 in foho. The Old Testament portion was edited 
by Baber in 1819. "VToide's text of the New Testament is however both scarce 
and costly, consequently but few can liave access to a fkithful transcript of this 
venerable document. Yet surely every Biblical student must vrish to have it 
within bis reach In a portable and convenient farm. To meet thu want, the pre- 
sent edition is undertaken, and no paios will be spared to secure a well printed 
and thoroughly faithful copy of the original. 

" It is mtonded to reproduce the Alexandrine manuscript in modem lype, 
observing the peculiar orthography, with the exception of the oontructioas, which 
it will be found convenient to develop. The sections of the original will be indi- 
cated, and modern divisions into chapters and verses will be noted in the margin. 
The miasing portions, oonsisting of Matt. i. 1, to iiv. 8 ; John vi. 60, to viii. 52 ; 
and 2 Cor. iv. 13, to lii. 6, will i>e supplied, in order to present the New Teeta- 
ment entire. The volume will be printed uniformly with the octavo reprint of 
the Codei Vatjconus. In its preparation, however, the editors have the unspeak- 
able advantage of acoess to the or^nal MS., which enables them to guarantee its 



" It may help to suggest the value which will attach to such on edition, to say 
tiiat the Alexandrine manuscript presents no fewer than about nine t/uHuaaid 
Tariations from the text of Mill, including variations of orthography and reading. 
Among them are many of extreme interest, and the perusal of any page of the 
wwk will shew to the most uninitiated the advantage of a faithfid copy of the 
entire work pver the marginal references to its peculiarities in the best critical 
editions. The numerouH transpo^tions, omissions and additions, with which it 
it abounds, will then be obvious to any one who undertakes the eaity labour of 
comparing it with any other published text of the Greek Testament, and in par- 
ticu^ with that of (Ordinal Mai, from a, manuscript perhaps slightly older, and 
like this, in all likelihood also written in Egypt. 

" TTie preceding remarks might be verified and illustrated by dtations from 
this veiy important text, but as no tyro in oriticisin is unaware of the value of 
the document, or can be indifibrent about tie possession, such quotations may be 
dispensed with. 

" It is ooufidently expected that the teal of those who desire an approximate 
knowledge of the inspired Writings, will lead them to encourB«e this very res- 
ponsible and important undertaking, and the publishers will be ^ad to rec^ve 
the names of as many lutondiniiE subeotibers as possible. The work is in a forward 



.byCOOl^lC 



1869J Inlelligmce. 827 

4blte of preparatioD, and will be published at ss early a period as is consiEteDt 
with that minute accuracy whicb ix so indispenmble in such a case. In the 
meantime, the publiRhers have no doubt that the annauucemeut of their intention 
to place within the reach of all etudeata a verbal facaimile ot this ancient manu- 
script of the New Testament, dating back: as it does at least fourteen centurieai 
will be approved and welcomed by every biblical atudent." 

Modem Veritiota of the Seripturet, — -The latest of Prince Louis Lucien's 
Sortpture translation publications are a verxion of the Gospel of St, Mattbew into 
the Venetian dialect, under the title of Tl Vangelo di S. MaUeo, volgariixato in 
dialette VeHetia»o, dal Sig. Gianjacopo fbntana, and a version of " the Sous of 
Solomon in the Idncaahire Dialect, as spoken at Bolton. From the authorized 
English version. By James Taylor Slaton." Works in the Venetian dialect of 
Knliiin have been Prequentiy printed before the present, but they have been for 
the most part popular songs and tales. We do not recollect any portion of Scrip- 
ture having been printed at any time previouitly. We shall therefore give a small 
specimen of it, premising that the ortho^^raphy is the same us that adopted by 
Boerio in his Venetian Mctionary, chapter iv, 1 . " Allora Geeu xe ata condoto 
dol Spirito in tel deserto, perchS el fusse tentik da! diavolo. 2. El gaveva dezuni 
quaranta sorni, e quamnta note, e il sentiva de aver una ^n hme. 3. £ ghe le 
vegQuo arente el diavolo a dirghe .- Se ti ic fio de Dio, dighe a ste piere che le se 
oambia in paneti. 4. Lu garispo^to; Se trova scrito t Che I'orao Doviveminga 
nome che de pan, ma de tute quele parole, che vien fora da la boca de Dio." 
This, however strange it may look to persons acquainted only with classic Italian, 
is not half so barbarous as the Bolton dialect, of which the following is a speci- 
men : — Chap, i, 1. " Th' sung o* sungs, which is Solomon's. 2. Let him kiss me 
wi' th' kissina uv his meawth ; for thy love's better uur woine. 3. Because oth' 
savTur o' thy good eighntments thy name's as eigbntment temm'd forth, theere- 
fore do th' varjuns love Ihee. 4. Poo me, weTl run after thee : th' King's browt 
me info his reawms : we'll be feJn un rejeighce in thee, well think o' thy love 
mooar nur voine : th' upreet love thee, Awm black, but comely, O yoa dowters 
o' Jerusalem, as tb' tents o' Eedar, as th' curtains o' Solomon." The only toler- 
able excuse that we have beard for the prince selecting the " Song of Solomon " 
for these several translatJons into our English dialects is that while it is the short- 
est, or one of the very short books in the Bible, it is at the same time one of the 
meet idiomatic. — CriUc. 

Prince Lucien Bonaparte has printed a cat«logue of the works edited by him 
in the various dialects of Europe-— also a list of works now in the press. The 
more recent works are the Canticles in Basque, the Oospel of St, MaMhew in the 
Tu^or dialects of Venetia, Milan, Naples, and Bergamo. Among other labonra, 
the Prince has printed the Song of Solomon in four English dmlecte — Lowland 
Scotch, and the dialects of Cumb^land, Newcastle, and Westmoreland, prMerring, 
for the use of linguists and historians, the exact state of langiuge in those dis- 
tricts, as spoken by the native population in the reign of Victoria. — Aiiaiaum. 

A reproduction of the Biblia Pamptrvm, tram the copy in the British MosMmi 
Library, is announced by Mr. J. Russell Smith. It will consist of forty engrav- 
ings, printed iu one volume, uniform with Mr. L. Leigh Sotheby's PriiMiptii 
^Spographicia, 

SiiU £t»(i»y Confirmed by an Egyptian Seal of Ninmeh. — On the temple 
walls of ancient Egypt, among the figures of men and gods and many historical 
records, there frequeutlj^ occur certain oblot^ paraUeiograms, with rounded cor- 
ners, enclosing various hieroglyphics. These cartouches, as they are called, often 
(t«tid over the image of some king, and, being deciphered, are found to cout^u 
his name, title, ete., and seem to be somewhat like the coat of arms or the royal 
agnet of modem princes. Each king has a cartouch of his own, and iu some 
oases these kings are identified with kings known to us through history. Among 

Digili.^byCjOOl^lC 



228 Intelligence. [October, 

these are Shiahak, 2 Chron. lii. 1—9 ; Tirhakah, 2 Kings m. 9 ; Pharaoh Neoho, 
2 Kings ixii. 29—85 ; and Sabaco II., or So, 2 Kings xvii. 4, mentioned in Bible 
history, liia last long. So, was of the Ethiopian or twentj-fifth dynasty, and 
hia cartowch is well known to the student of E^^i*1 antiquitiea. Egypt lies at 
a distanoo fW>m Assyria, and an army from one couutrj" could not reach the other 
without guing through the Jewish territory, or traversing vast and almost impass- 
able dosertfl. Yet the Bible informs tia that at one period these two nations were 
frequently in conflict with each other.' Thus we find the Assyrian armies in 
Egypt (Isaiah xi.), and an Egyptian army on the borders of Assyria {Jeremiah 
ilvi. S) ; and the Jews were involved in the strifes of these powerful neighbours. 
King Josiah was defeated and slain by an Egyptian army on its march against 
Assyria. Hosea, king of Israel, made a treaty with 8o, king of Egypt, to help 
him to throw ofl' the yoke of Shalmaneser, king of Assyria ; but the result was an 
Assyrian invaaiou and the tirst great captivity of the kingdom of Israel. This 
So, or Sabaco II., was succeeded by Tirhakah in Egypt, and Shalmaneser in 
A^yria by Sennacherib, and hostilities euated during both reigns (2 Kings xix. 9) ; 
alternating with pea<», and the campaign followed by the treaty. But who could 
have hoped to find any new verifications of these statements of Scripture after the 
hipse of a.&OO years P Yet this has been done. In the mound of Kouyunjik, 
recently explored, on the aite of Ninereb, the ancient capital of Assyria, are found 
the remains of a palace built, as its own record informs us, by Sennacherib. One 
of its chambers would seem to have been a ball of records, for it contained a large 
number of pieoee of fine clay, bearing the impression of sods. Such ctay was 
used in those ages ae sealing-wai is used now, tu sealing important documents, 
and manuscripts have been found in Egypt with these clay seals still attached to 
them. One of these pieces of ciay found m Sennacherib's palace presents us with 
two seals, one a royal signet of Assyria, and the other the well-known cartouch 
of Sabooo, or So, king of Sgypt, just ae it stands on Egyptian monuments ; thus 
showing the probability tl^t a treaty between the two monarchs had been depo- 
sited here, and furnishing an uneipeoted conErmation of the Bible hiatory. The 
dooiiment itself, and the cord by which it was attached to the seal, have long 
since turned to dust, but the seal with its double impress, though buried for ages, 
has oome to Ugbt, and is now in the British Museum. The two kings affixed 
their seals to a document, which had perished like themselves ; but in their act 
the hand of the Most High affiled an additional seal to his holy word, which is 
true and abideth for ever. — AmerKOn Mesienger. 

Home's IntrodiKtion. A new edition of Vol. II. of the Rev. Thomas 
Hartwell Home's well-knoifn Introducdim to the Study of the Scriplureg baa 
k„ — r„_ some (jme in preparation, and may be shortly eipeoted to isano from 
j. The execution of it has been entrusted to the Kev. Mr. Ayre, a 
n with respect to whoae orthodoxy it is said there can be no question, 
HH mere certainly was— whether rightly or wrongly we do not pretend to Hay — 
in the case of Dr. Davidson, who was employed by the puMisherB, in conjnnc- 
tion with Dr. Tregelles, to assist the venerable author in preparing a new edition 
(the tenth) of his work. Dr. Davidson, in this distribution of bbour, became 
responsible for the entire second volume ; but such an ontcry was caused by 
certain opiuionl therein expressed by him, that the volume was obliged to be 
detached from Mi. Home's work, and published separately, while Mr. Ayre was 
engaged to supply its place by another. This is the volume now passing through 
the preas. But we learn, at the same time, that a new edition of Dr. Davidson's 
volume has been called for, shewing that he dao is not without his admirers; 
which, considering the great amount of learning contained in his work, is not to 
he wondered at. 

Jaee in Jenualem. — The master of the house communicated to me the fol- 
lowing particulars concerning the Karaite congregation at Jerusalem : — 

" We are tbe oldest inhabitants of Joruaalcm since the destruction of the 
second temple. Two hundred and seventy years ago there were two hundred 
Karutes at Jerusalem, who emigrated there on account of the plague tbat had 



entfem 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859,] Intelligence. 229 

broken out, bo that, during twentf jesrs, tlisre was not a Karaite at Jeroaalem. 
Fur the last one hundred and fifty yoars we bave been again establisbed heTB. 
Onr most ancient tombstone is only one hundred and ten years old ; many, how- 
OTer have sunk in the ground. Now we are only thir^-two in nnmber, among 
whom there ore foar heads of families. It is painfnf that your conntrymen, 
the Asbkenasim, abould despise us ; the Sephardim visit as occasionally, and we 
them. However, wa only intermarry amongst onrselvea, and bury onr dead 
separately from theira. We are obliged to be indnstrions and work hard, for the 
Bupport from our brethren in the (Simea is veiy inconsiderable. Through the 
scarcity of the last few years, the formerly rich have become poor, and the poor 
impovenshed. The books after which yon enqaiie we have not ; to as the one 
suffices which oonlains the wisdom of the whole world. I wiL shew you our 
book of the law." 

He then invited ns to visit the synagogue. We first descended the stairs by 
which we had ascended, and then another flight of steps, which conducted us to 
ft small subterraneons apartment, wbich was lighted by a square opening in the 
roof. A small ghus lustre, with four burning lamps, mingled its rays with the 
light of the day, without robbing the small synagogue, which was covered with 
beautiful carpets, of the charm of its magic gloom 

A silver plate is inserted behind the prayer-desk, over the holy ark, towards 
the east. It contains an inscription in large letters of gold, through which the 
Jewish profession of faith is brought under the notice of every one who enters — 
"Hear, O Israel, the Lord onr God is one Lord." Their thora does not consist 
of leaves rolled together, as among all other sects, bnt is written on parchment, 
in the form of a book, with gold or painted initials and arahesq^aes. The last 

Sage contains information regarding the origin, the age, and the writer of the 
[S., in the following words : " I, Moses, son of the blesEwd Menacbem Dalbures, 
have written this book, which is called ' Maknihe,' and given it to the honoured 
Kabbi, Mordechai, the son of the blessed Isack, as a worthy present, in the 
itb Sivan, in the eighty-second year of the aii-thonsandth j 
■"-' ' 'hat he medit*- - "-- '--'- ■-- —' '-'- -'-"' 

which is written 

month, bat thou i 

to do according ti 

proaperoas, and then thou shalt have good success. Be strong. Xmen. 

SeUh.' " 

Besides this book, there is also a thora written on parchment leaves rolled 
together, which has been written at a more recent date. 

When we came out of the synagogne and entered the court, we found the 
whole community assembled. All were drossed in their Sabbath olothea. My 
host directed my atlflntion to the friendly bearing eihibited by all; they evi- 
dently considered themselves honoured by our visit. All of them bade us adieu, 
as if It were with one month, while the president invited me to repeafmy visit. 

Though they are perfectly independent in religious matters, the Turkish 
Government regards the chacham bachi as their spiritnal head. AH that he 
requires of them is, that they shall at least outwardly observe and respect the 
different Jewish festivals. Thus they would not dare, even if it were permitted, 
to open their shops on certain days. 

Dediiie of Jvdaitm. — The observations I made during this visit were instruc- 
tive and interesting in several respects, I have had occasion to make myself 
acquainted with the advantages the Jews in Belgium and France have derived 
from having been entirely emancipated. In a worldly point of view they are 
great. The Jew, in these two countries, is no more shut up in a separate quar- 
ter ; in the eye of the law he is not a Jew, but a Belgian, or a Frenchman ; he 
may devote himself to any career, and may rise to the highest office in the 
State. In fact, that which is lawful to the Gentile is also lawful to the Jew; 
and I believe they are, with very few exceptions, in easy circumstanoes. But 
emancipation has well nigh annihilated Judaism. The synagogue are empty; 



.byCOOl^lC 



230 Inteiiigence. [October, 

tbe rabbiB withont inflneDos and without Dongregatiooe ; and thonaanda of Jews, 
denying their origin, have lost all nationality and love for their o«n conntiy 
and Jenualomj the; have Gentilized their namea and tbeir manneia; and, in a 
faw years, when the censas is again taken in Belgiom, theia will perhaps not 
be one who declares himself a Jew. In France, if poaaible, it ia even worae. 
A Jewiah French periodical says of the majority of tbe Jews in France, 'that 
tbey do not visit tbe aynagogiies, that they send their children to Gentile 
schools, do not have their sons circumcised, and are rarely present at any Teal 
Jewish oeiemonieH." They might have added, they have tbeir children bap- 
tized soon after tbey come into the world, libe Adolph Cremienx, who had bis 
Mn and his daughter baptized by a Romish priest tbe morning after their birth ; 
bnt he himself continnea to be a Jew. — }foUf of a Eeceat Tottr on fite ContimBai, 
by a Jem. 

Tbe Tomb of AikM.— Upon my return to Bethlehem, I rode by the tomb of 
Bachel~~a small building with a whitened dome, and having witliiii it a high 
oblong monument, built of brick, and stnccoed over. Tbe spot is wild and 
Bolitary, and nut a tree spreads its shade where rests the beautiful mother of 
Israel. Christian. Jew, and Moslem, all agree that thia is just the spot where 
Rachel was buried, and all unite in honouring it. The Turlcs are anxioas that 
their ashes may reat near hera, and hence their bodies have beec strewn nnder 
tombs all around the simple grave of Kachel. The sweet domestic virtnea of 
the good wife have won their love and admiration, as the tomb of Absalom, near 
the brook of Kedron, their detestation. Upon tbe latter they throw a stj^e, to 
mark their horror of the disobedient son ; while around the former they wieh, 
when they die, their bodies may be interred. Nor ia this wonderful The wife 
worth fourteen years of aervice as a sheplierd must have been a wife worth 
having. The whole life of Rachel is, indeed, one of the most touching in 
Bibli<»I history. The sweet shepherdess has left her mark npon the memory of 
man, aa well as her tomb. The tribute to her ia the tribute to a good wife ; and 
infidel, and Jew, and Christian, aU combine to p^ it. The great women of 
tbe earth — the Zenobios and Cleopatras have died, been buried, and their veiy 
place of bnrial been forgotten— hut to this day atanda over the grave of Rachel, 
not the pillar Jacob set up, but a modern monument in ita place, around which 

Eilgrims from every land under the sun gather in respect and reverence for the 
lithful wife and good mother in Israel. —New York Scpre»«. 

Tbe Zhctrine of a TrinAy, Universal. — Persons indifferent to religious truth, 
or latitudinarian in sentiment, are prone to pronounce what is peculiar to Chris- 
tianity to be "aectaTian." Thus the principle, that there isa visible Church 
instituted by Christ, having a ministry which holda a commission from Him, 
transmitted through the apostles in a line of unbroken succession down to onr 
day, is declared to bo " sectarian." Even the doctrine of tbe vicarious atone- 
ment is affirmed to be " sectarian," by the class whose main article of belief is 
a disbelief in the distinctive truths which fundamentally constitute the religion 
of the Saviour what it is, aa tJie Gospel, and something different from all the 
pretended forms of religion in the world. What is Unitorjanism, then, but 
inteuaely sectarian ? 

Thus we might refer to other catholic doctrinea declared to be " sectarian," 
merely bccanse denied by certain individuals or classes, who, indeed, are the 
sectarians, because of their non-belief and rejection of some essential truths. 
But if universality of any doctrine be any proof that it is not " sectarian," and 
a presumptive evidence of its Divine authenticity, then tbe doctrine of the 
Trinity stands on firm ground, aside from all the indications of the truth of it 
existing in the inapired Scriptures. It is not a peculiar Gospel truth, inasmuch 
as it was known before the Gospel, and mingled among ancient superstitions, in 
which fragments of Divine truth may be found. Those who are fond of appeal- 
ing to " nature," or to the conclusions arrived at by the general mind of man- 
kind, to the consent of the human race in any one thing, as decisive concerning 
the truth or blsehood of any doctrine or principle, should not bo found deuyiog 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] InteiUgenee. 231 

tlie truth of a Qodhead. Three m One, and One in Three, — a doctrine profesied 
before the incarnation of the Eternal Son, and known in history to have been 
believed before the liberation of the Hebrews from Egyptian aUvery, — and 
known, too, to have been held in various and opposite regions of the earth, by 
people that conld have had no oommtinication since the digperaioD at the bailding 
of Babel. What, than, is this aniver«al belief, but the voice of Ood speaking 
to the haman consdonanets conoeming Himself? 

We give a few instances, which shew the umvereality of this doctrine, and 
thus its f^readom from mere sectarianism : — 

Hindoos. — The name of the Godhead is Brahma : the nunes of the three 
persons in it are Brahma, Vishna, and Beova. 

Persian.— The names of which are Ormnsd, Hithras, and Ahriman, called 
by the Qreeks, Ormaades, Mithras, and Arimanna. 

Egyptian, who named their Triad originally, Osiria, Cneph, and Phtha; and 
afterwards, Oairia, Iris, and Typhon. 

Orphic Theology, the most anoient recorded in Grecian history, Phos, Bonle, 
Zoe [Light, Connsol, Life). 

Oreek Fhilosophera eitensively acknowledged a Triad, To #n, or Unity ; and 
Monon, or that which is alone ; and To Agatkon, or the Good. 

Thibet and Tangnt worshipped an idol, whioli was tbe representation af a 
threefold god. 

Rossian Medal with an inscription : — " The bright and sacred image of the 
Deity, conspicaons in three fignres." 

Soaodinavians acknowledged a Triad, whom they styled Odin, Praa, Thor. 

Romans, Germans, and Ganls norshipped a Triad in various manners, 

BomauB and Germans worshipped the Mairie, three goddesses inseparable. 

Romans, Greeks, and Egyptians worshipped the Cabiri, or Three Mighty 

Japanese and Chinese anciently acknowledged a Triad. 

American nations have, in several instances, acknowledged a Triad. 

Tbe Iroquois hold that, before the creation, three spirits existed, all of whom 
were employed in making mankind. 

The Peruvians adored a Triad, whom they styled the Father and Lord Bun, 
tbe 8on Sun, and the Brother Snn. 

The Inhabitants of Ooqnisaco, a province of Peru, worshipped an image 
named Tangatanga, which, in their luignage, signifies one in three, and three 
in one. — Caendar. 

Character of Eratmiu. — There are characters to whom the world never has 
done, and never will do, justice. Many such, doubtless, there are among tbe 
retiriog, much-endnring seals who, in the obscurity of a private, it may M an 
exceedinffly hombie, station, pass through their appointed course of life's disci- 
pline, unknown to the world^ the world unknown to them. Tbeir joys and 
Borrows are all their own ; their thoughts and feelings, ever Btruggling to dis- 
engage themeelves from the meaner associations of the earth, are directed 
heavenward, and, shrinking IVom all outward manifestations, begin and end in 
commaningH of the inner mind with that Father who seeth in secret, and who, 
we may rest well assured, will in bis own good time, in the day of the manifes- 
tion of Ills power in his saints, reward them openly. But there are others, 
whose lot is not thus cast among the secret ones of the Father of Spirits : who 
are destined to pUy a part, and an important part, on the world's stage ; who, 
though their inner life be " hid with Christ in God," are, cither by an irresis- 
tible impulse from within, or by tbe constraining power of circamsttmces, forced 
into prominence, and whom, nevertheless, tbe world, whose eyes are fixed on 
them, fkils to understand. 

Erasmus was one of these; ho was one of tbe most illustrious, perhaps, 
among those choice spirits whose allotted task it is to exercise a powerful and 
widespread influence over tbe men of tbeir own age, and through Uiem npou all 
time to come, and yet to stand aloof from the world, hut imperfectly appreciated, 
and still less comprehended, realizing in the most literal sense the Apostolic 



.byCOOl^lC 



232 Intelligence. [October, 

paradox, " as tmknomi and jet well knovrc." There is, indeed, no lack of 
"lives "of ErasinaB;* editionB and bibliographier -' '-- ' — ' ''"^ ' 



ra$,j rendilj be conaalted ; yet neither his character aor hie position in historjr 
are properfy understood. Nothing, of coorBO, is easier than to set liint down as 
a trimmer and a, timo-seirer, nho saw the trnCh clearly enough, bnt, throneh 
considerations of fear, or of worldly adTantage, was withheld from joiainK the 
ranks of its championB and defenders ; nothing more planstble than to procmm 
him a man withoat eamestness of pnrpose, who looked on at the mighty conflict 
that was being fought ont before his eyes, in the spirit of literary dilettantism 
and philosophical apathy, rather than with a mind actoated by deep and solemn 
conyictions. Mach, we are aware, may be said in support of this view of tbe 
character of Erasmus ; we are prepared to admit that it is the aspect which the 
*"'"' ""is life presents to the vulgar eye. And yet, after all, we wonld Bab- 



history of hi 



mistake, at least a very imperfect view, involving injustice of 1 

Sufficient regard, we incline to think, has not been paid to the peculiar cir- 
cnmstances of the personal history of Emamas, and to the effect which they 
must have had upon the formation of his mind and character. His position was, 
almost from his cradle, one of complete ieolation. The oircnmBtances of his 
birth placed him at once beyond the pale of the ordinary socitil inflnences. As 
a child he never had a home, in the true sense of the word. Even while his 
nataral protectors were alive, they had no home to give him. After their death, 
which happened as he was barely approaching the confines of childhood and 
jrontb, he was thrown entirely among Btrangers. By those to whom a. legal 
guardianship over him was committed, he was defrauded, betrayed, coerced into 
a mode of a life utterly uncongenial to the natural bent of his mind. To many, 
aitnated as he was, tbe cloiater has anpplied the place of a home : with him it 
was far otherwise. To him the cloister never was a home ; the order of which 
he had been compelled to profess himself an adopted son was never regarded by 
him in the light of a family, a brotherhixid, to which he belonged. The growth 
of those affections which might have won and warmed his heart was stunted in 
him from his very infancy ; the world that surrounded and encircled him had no 
aympathy with him nor he with it. At the very period when thought and feel- 
ing begin to expand, he was forced bock upon his own solitary heart. 

When he had succeeded in shaking off the trammels of a conventual exist- 
ence, he started forth into the world, still an isolated heing. He who as a child 
had had no home, had as a man no country that he could call his own. He was 
a Dutchman, a citizen of Rotterdam, by the local accident of his birth, bnt by 
no other tie. And as he stood alone in the outer world, so he stood alone, like- 
wise, in the world of thoaght. The mdiments by the aid of which learning may 
be attained, he had acquired during his school years ; his brief monastic career 
did little more than make him hnnger and thirst after knowledge with the keen 
intensity of unsatisiied desire. After he had escaped into the fields where know- 
ledge was iree and abundant, be was yet vrithout teachers. He had to purchase, 
by teaching otheia what he knew, the precious opportunity of teaching himself. 
At every stage of hia erudite career he was oirrollISiuiTai. It was his own hand 

° Among the earlier lives the follovririg are the mora important: Bnrigny, 
Pie dMrasme, Paris, 1767 ; the same, translated into German, with Corrections 
and Additions, by Professor Henke, Halle, 1782; Jortin's Life of iVosmiu, 
Ijondon, 1758 — 60; Hess's JSra»mtii utm jietierdian, nach eeinem Leben ttnd 
Schr^ien, Zurich, 1790 ; Knight's Life of Sraimtu, more particularly of that 
part of it which he spent in England, Cambridge, 1726. Of a more recent date 
are the publications, the titles of which are prefixed to the Essay in the 
"Quarterly;" Leben dea Jsrr/umiu aoa Sotlerdam, von Adolf Miiller, Hamburg, 
1828 ; NouveUe Biographie IMverieUe, tom. xvi., art. " Erasme," Paris, 1856. 

* The most complete edition of his works ia that edited by Le Cterc, and 
published at Leyden, 1703 — 6, in ten folio volames. An elaborate account of 
them is given at the end of tbe article "Erasmus," in Ersch and Gniber'a 
Encydopedia, 



.byCOOl^lC 



1859.] IrUelligence. 



^ It is eaa^ to aee what mnst have been the result of all this in a mind of saf- 
ficient vitality and energy to be proof ag^QBt the almoBt crushing- difficulties of 
BDCb a position. Solidity of leaminB, a deep and clear insight into the reality of 
thinga, great freedom and independence of thought, were the natural froits of 
Bach ardnoas, aelf-concentrated training. Not a superficial borrower of other 
men's opinions, he rauBt needa be an original thinker ; hampered by no oonven- 
tionalities, ha fonned upon every point his own deliberate judgment. To what 
extent, witb what vigoroua application of his acute and powerful mind, EiasmtlB 
did this, ig at once apparent when it is considered over how wide a field his re- 
searches extended, and what freshness and copiousneas of thought he brought 
to bear on every part of it. In classical, in Biblical, in patristic lore, ho far 
excelled all his contemporaries. While bis investigations into Christian anti- 
quity left upon his mind the imprese of deep reverence for tba institutions of the 
Chnrch, he had a keen eye for tbe abuses and corruptions with which tbosa 
institutions had become overlaid during the lapse of ages. While he drank 
deep at the fountain-head of Christian tmth, he clearly observed the spuriona 
adiuixturo of false tenets with which that truth had become adulterated. Mun- 
toining bis ground as a sound and reverent Churchman, he scourged without 
mercy the ignorance and vice which defiled the temple. He planned and e«e- 
onted, and that with the express sanction of Pope Leo X., to whom he dedicated 
it, the publication of the New Testament Scriptures in the original Greek, and 
rendered their contents more generally accessible by accompanying it with a 
Latin version, more correct than the authorized Vulgate. 

All this Eraamns had achieved several years before the hero of the German 
Reformation bethought himself of nailing his iheie» to the church door at Wit- 
tenberg. Quietly, sine tumaltu, as best became the sacredness of God's Church 
and the spirit of the Gospel, had be been labouring, both by his published writ- 
ings, and by his eitensive correspondence, for the purification of tbe Cbarch ; 
the object of his daily and nightly toil had been, by promoting and diffusing 
the knowledge of tbe pure Word of God, to let in light upon tbe darkness with 
whose blighting shadows Christendom was overspread. With a heart from 
which all other interests were excluded, he was watching the advent of the orb 
of day ; he discerned its approach in the faint streaks of light which were con- 
verting the sable night mto gray-eyed mom. What must have been his dis- 
appointment when ho saw black and threatening clouds gather on the horizon, 
when tbe rolling of distant thunder, now from the cell of (he Auguatinian monk, 
now from tbe Vatican, gave warning that the elements were about to meet in 
deadly conflict ; how profound his sorrow as he saw those clouds rising higher 
and higher, overcasting tho whole heaven, and found the voice of sober tmth 
rendered inaudible by the tempest's roar I 

The hopes which, through years of devoted labour, he had cherished of a 
better future for the Church were blasted. Possessed as he was of extensive 
knowledge of the world, engaged in correspondence witb leading men in Church 
and State, he could not but apprehend the consequences of the unmeasured vio- 
lence of language and action which was now imported into the mighty conflict 
between truth and error. The enemies of reform eagerly seized upon the oppor- 
tunity afforded them of raising the cry, " Tho Church m danger." Those who 
had been won to its cause, whose eyes were gradually being opened to the 
requirements of the age, drew back in alarm when they saw a rnthless and 
nndiaoriminating attack directed alike against what in their hearts they disap- 

5 roved and were willing to see amended, and against all that they held most 
ear and sacred. The advocacy of sound and enlightened views, at all times 
obnoxious to the imputation of "novelty" and "heresy," was rendered infinitely 
more difficult by the promulgation of questionable or actually erroneous tenets, 
which ignorance or malice confounded with the former. 

What, under these circumstances, was a temperate Church reformer, a sober- 
minded and conscientious promoter of Diblical knowledge tike Erasmas, to do? 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



234 IrUelliffence. [October, 

Was he to oast in hU bt with tbs moTement putf, datnaging hii own rood and 
bolyoaoBe br waooiationwith unhallowed measnreg which he coold not out con- 
deoin, and damag;inK the truth by allowing it to be identified with erjon fbr 
which be neither comd nor woold make himself responsible ? Or, seeing he waa 
preolndod from toroing Protestant under the banner of Mardn Lather, waa he 
to become the champion of a sj stem which he himself had denounced, to enlist 
bis powerful mind in the defence of abosea and saperstitiOTiH agaiiist which he 
bad with so mnch success wielded the scourge of satire, and held np the t<Hi^ 
of truth ? Wonid he not b; either of tbuse courses have incurred the ^uilt of 
treason againBt that truth which, during Tears of deep thoneht and laborions 
research, nad been revealed to his soul? What else conid he do but, on the one 
bond, uive upon the adherents of the old system the duty of reforming those 
things which needed correction, reminding them that much truth was mixed ap 
with the errors of tbeir opponente ; and, on the other hand, enforce npon the 
promolgatore of tbe new doctrine aud clamourera for change the neceasity of 
caution and moderation, warning them of the danger of nish and eiceBsive inno- 
vation ? 

Now this is the precise coarse which Erasmns puraaed, sod by porsiiing it 
drew down upon himseJf the displeasure of hoth the antaKonistio puties. He 
exerted his influence with the Papal party in fSTonr of mild counsels and wise 
concessions ; to Luther and his foUowere he recommended abstinence from over- 
Btrained assertions and extravagant demands. He refused to become the par- 
tizan of either, because he judged neither worthy of absolute Tiotory or of 
absolute defeat ; rather tbon help tbe one to achieve a triumph over the otber, he 
desired to see them meet together in nsitj of spirit and in the bond of peace. 
To this line of conduct he adhered with such singleness of purpose that, altbonrii 
Bometimes in indigent, and never in sfBuent circumstances, be unheBitatingly 
and pertinaciously refused the most brilliant ofiera of both dignity and emolu- 
ment, — the cardinalate was more than once within his reach, and evcQ preaaed 
upon him,^e9t he should be suspected of interested motives in refusing to the 
Protestant party that anqnalified support which they somewhat rudely oloimed 
at Mb hands. " Hoc agnnt," ho says, In allusion to the design to load iiim with 
preferment in order to qualify bim in piunt of fortune for a cardinal's bat, " Qt 
me onerent pmpoHituns, ut hinc justo censn parato doner purpureo gslero,"— 
"onerent," he adds in another epistle, " reclamoatem, ac manibos pedibusque 
reousantem, ac perpetuo etiam recnsaturum." Phiced between Luther and the 
Papacy, Erasmus had no choice but to hold himself aloof from both, at the risk. 
of being, a9 he was, branded by both as a renegade. There was, indeed, one 
country in which the work of lieformation proceeded on principles more COn- 

Eenial to his own, and where it might have had bis hearty co-operation. But 
ere, too, violence and injustice soared him. Henry VIlL's divorce, though ha 
respectfully refrained from censuring it, he found it impossible to approve. And 
when the aie had fallen on tbe neck of Thomas More, the friend of his eartv 
youth, what remained for bim bnt to veil his head in expectation of that &aU 
release by which, within less than a year of that bloody tragedy, he waa "taken 
away from the evil to come?" 

To follow out, through the life and writings of Krasmos, tbe line here indi- 
cated, would he a deeply interesting t^k, but for exceeding the limits within 
which our remarks must be conSned. Since, however, his name has once more 
been prominently brought before the world, it seemed to ua not unmeet to urge 
the foregoing considerations, both in support of his claim to a fivemoBt plaice 
among God's chosen instruments for the restoration of Evangelic Truth and the 
maintenance of Apostolic Order in His Church, and in vindication of his cer- 
tuoly not unhonoiuod, jet not sufficiently honoured, memory. In evil times, 
times of hot strife and of passions nncbained, be maintained that rare and noble, 
but never popular oboracter, — Uie character of a man gnided by "tbe wisdom 
from above," whereof the nnfailing Word testifies that it is t^nic^ tritutiiT, 
ASidKoeros, divirrJ«piTDT. On no tablet more fitly than on that of Erasmus may 
the blessed promise be inscribed; Kapwi! Intoioo^nij ir tlpi^ji mtlptrai tmi 
vMOvtrur tlpiftnfr^ — ^ngUah Church/man. 



.byCOOl^lc 



1869.] iHtelligence. 2S5 

Workt of Dr. Barroiu. — The Uniyereity of Cambridga has been doing 
hODOOT to one of her most distrngaiiihed sons, Dr. laaac Barrow, by publishing 
a new edition of his works, the moat accorate and couiplete hitherto eitant- 
Its title is as foUowa : " The Theakffical Worla of Jeaac Barrim, D.B., Mastw 
of Trinity College, Cambridge. In nine volameB. Edited for the Syndics of the 
University Press, by the Kev. Alexander Napier, M.A., Trinity College, Cam- 
bridge, Vioar of Holkham, Norfolk. Cambridge : At the UniTeraity Press." 
In t£ese nine volnmas are contained the author's aixty-foni sermons on miscel' 
laneons subjects; thirty-two sermons on the Creed; nn "^position of 
the Creed," in the form of a treatise, also an " Exposition of the Lord's 
Prayer, the Decalogue, and the Sacraments ;" " Treatise of the Pope's Sapre- 
maoy;" " Discourse of the L'nity of the Church;" "Opuscnla;" "Poemata;" 
two dissertarione, and sermons, etc., attributed to Bar;ow. Of all this mass of 
■writing, it is strange that only a very small portion was pablished by the author 
himself during bis lifetime ; la fact, only two sermons, the " Spital Sermon," 
preached in 1671, and the "Guildhall Sermon," in 167T, both of which were 

C'llisbed by reqaest, Uis other works were published at intervals, after his 
th, by Archlnahop Tillotson aud Urabazon Aylmer, with the exception of a 
few recently discovered. The MS8. of most of the sermons are still existme in 
the library of Trinity College, Cambridge, and the present editor has had 
recourse to these in correcting the text and restoring the author's own readings, 
many of which had been intentionally altered by Archbishop Tillotson, to suit 
his own ideafl of eaphoniouB writing. Prefised to this edition the reader will 
also find " Some account of the life of Dr. Isaac Barrow, by Abraham Hill," 
and in the last volume, " A Notice of Barrow's Life and Academical Times, by 
W. Whewell, D.D." The latter contains very little that Is new respecting the 
author's life. Indeed, it is almost impassible now, according Ui Mr. Napier, to 
recover anymore facta reapecting him than Ibose already recorded by his earliest 
biographer. The principal of these ore, that he was torn in London in 1630, 
the son of a respectable linendraper and citizen ; was educated first at the 
Charter- bo use, where " for his book he minded it not," and afterwards at Trinity 
College, Cambridge, whore he most have minded his book very well, for in 1649 
he was chosen one of the Fellows, and applied himself to the study of medicine, 
botany, chemistry, etc., being much smitten by the new discoveries of the 
natixral philosophers of his time. Next he travelled abroad in France, Italy, 
aud even Turkey. Subsequently he entered the Church, and, while known 
abroad as one of the greatest mathematiciane of the age, at home he achieved 
OS high a reputation as a theologian. Charles II. made him bis chaplain, and 
pud him the compliment of saying that he was the most unfair preacher he ever 
knew, " for he never left anything for any one else to say on the subjects which 
he handled." Dr. Barrow was also praised, not only for his great learning, but 
for hia remarkable physical strength and courage ; he was a great consumer of 
tobacco, which he called his " panpharmakon " (has Mr. Fairholt a note of 
this ?) nor was he leas sparing in the matter of t^uit, which, says his biographer, 
" was to him physic as well as food ; and he thought that if fruit kill hundreds 
Id autumn, it preserves thousands." The fruit, then, he took for bis health, 
and the tobacco because he believed "it did help to regulate his thinking. 
Dr. Barrow died in Ijondon in 1677, and was buned in Westminster Abbey, 
wfaeie he is described in his epitaph as " truly great, if there he anything great 
in piety, probity, faith, the most consummate learning, and modesty no lesa 
consumtnate, morals entirely unspotted, and manners most engaging." — C^iia, 

Egyptian Antimtitiee at the Syro-JUgupiian Society. — -June 14fA. — Dr. J. Lee 
in the chair. — The Chairman exhibited (out of the Hartwell collection) the 
palette or inkstand of an ancient Egyptian acrilie. Mr. Bonomi described it as 



Sat piece of acacia wood, three inches wide, and seventeen inchea long ; and 
argued, from the circumstance of its length being exactly five digits less than 
the ancient Egyptian cubit of the Louvre, that it served the scribe as a measure 
as well as a palette and ruler. On the side in wliich the two circular depres- 
sions for the red and black pigments and the groove for the reeds is contrived, 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



336 Intelligence, [October, 

was engrsTed in outline a repTeMntation of the Hcribe in the act of adoration 
before OsiriB ami Tboth, with a dedioatioo to those tiro divinities, in well-formed 
hieroglfphioB of the nineteentb dvnostj, as well aa four colamDS of hiero- 
glyphiCB at the back, it was stated that the palette was foond in the tomb of 
a scribe at Thebes, where it had been deposited as indicatiTe of his profession. 
Mr. Sharee remarked that eTery one of the p^Tamids near Qizeh stands npon a 
base which measnres an even nnmber of cnbits. The base of the pyTsmid 
second in point of size ia 400 roTal onbitB in length ; that of the third pyramid, 
200 ; that of the fourth, TO ; these of the fifth and sixth, 100 each ; and those 
of the eighth and ninth, 60 each. The royal cubit contains seven hand-breadths 
or twenty-eight fingers ; while the ordinary or lesser cnbit is a seventh part less, 
oontaining only six hand-breadths. The greatest pyramid alone ie measured in 
these lesser cubits. And hence we learn something of the mind of the builder. 
When he determined to make it larger than the oldest pyramid of 400 royal 
cnbits, he boostfnlly fixed npon 500 cubits as its measure, bnt contented himself 
with oaing the lenser cubit. During these years the cubit liad Brown rather 
shorter. When the four oldest pyramids were built, the royal cubit measnred 
twenty-one inches and a qnarter; when the fifth and aixth were built, it was 
twenty inches and three-quarters; and for the eighth and ninth, it was only- 
twenty inches and a half. — Mr Bonomi read some extracts from the Jonmal ot 
an English Keeident at Qhedames, on the northern frontier of the Ssliara, and 
also some extracts from the Journal of a Besident ^t Diarbeker, on the river 
Tigris. 

Anglo-Saxoa Tombi. — In accordance with the promise in our last, we pro- 
ceed to give some details of discoverieH in the Anglo-Saxon Oemetery and on 
the racecourse at Bowcombe Down. These oxplorations were made under the 
aaspices of the Isle of Wight Mnseam Committee, Newport, and carried oa 
under the direction of Ernest P. WilkinB, Esq. The proceeds of the investi- 
gation are as follows : — 1. An incineration of an sdalt and child. 2, A headless 
skeleton ; with it was interred a Roman bronze hare-shaped enamelled brooch, 
bronze tag. metal with rivet-hole, and an iron girdle buckle. 3. An irMl 
dagger, which was laid over an incineration, near which was foimd a coin of the 
reign of Constantine, 4, An urn. 6. A headless skeleton, with other relics. 
6. Human bonea, and a corroded bead. T. An orn, which fell to pieces. 8. An 
nm, eight inches high and t«n and a half inches in diameter, surrounded by 
wood-aslies. 9. An am, similar to No. 6, the neck much crashed. 10, 1 1, and 
12. Two or three skeletons discovered by workmen in widening the racaconrse, 
together with which were found an icon sword, two iron spear-heads, a bronie 
buckle, and an iron knife. 13. A male skeleton, 5ft. 2in.; with it were 
interred a bronze circular ornament, an iron knife, a bronze circular brooch and 
leaden bead, three rivets and a piece of bronze belonging to the sheath of a 
knife, and an iron backle ; pieces of pottery were scattered about the grave. 
14. A skeleton without relics, save ftagmeats of pottery scattered about the 
grave. 15. A male skeleton, 5ft. 9in. ; on the right side of the skall was found 
an iron spear-head, eighteen inches long, and on the left side an empty am, 
which collapsed into fragments ; an iron boss and handle of a shield laid on the 
chest I at the girdle were an agate bead, a hronze buckle, an iron dagger, with 
three bronie rivets of its sheath, and a piece of bronze. 16. A female skeleton, 
reclining on one side with knees drawn np, a necklace of beads of amber, 
pebbie, and glass, under chin ; with which were discovered a bronze gilt brooch 
with a Saxon face, a thimble of bronze plated with sQver, and an iron knife. 
IT. A male skeleton, with which was found some bronze clasps on the letl side 
of the skull, 18. A male skeleton, buried with which were an iron knife, aa 
iron buss and handle of a shield, and some pieces of pottery scattered over the 
nave. 19. An nm. 90. On the top of a barrow, juat under the turf, were 
discovered two pairs of legs, which had never been disturbed, the other parts 
bung apparently removed! with a considerebte portion of the barrow ; snbse- 
qoent explorations discovered the remains of two or more skeletons, irregnlariy 
Bcatterea together, with an icon arrow-bead, Arogments of iron articles, a bronn 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Intelligence. 237 

clasp, half an iroa horse-ahoe, a, bead, blocks of Bandstone, and a large iron ring. 
*" • mule skeleton, with which were found four broocheB and a hair enamelled 



rooch ; all theae biooches bod a piece of striDg nound round the froQt of the 
n — a snfficient proof that they were buried, and not pinned in the garnientB, 
it Bimply laid in the grave ; aome nnmbor of beads, a bronze sliding ring, with 
pendant ornament, and an iron knife at the left hip, 22. An incineration, with 
a dagger blade of bronze six inches over it, 23. This was a hole excavated in 
the solid chalk, sixteen inches in diameter and ten inches deep, filled, with wood- 
ashes burnt on the spot ; a few fragments only of bones could be picked out, 
so thoroughly had the akcletona been burned; a burnt head was also detected; 
wood ashos Burrouoded the hole for two or three feet in extent, in large quan- 
tities ; over the incineration, which had been the original interment, was heaped 
a large masB of fiintB. These relics deserve especial attention, as they have 
Juat been placed in an apartment of the Museum in LuKley-atreet, for public 



C 



Eare Mamucripfa, — The following descriplives are from the Libri Catalogue, 
The prices are those attached to the Mliclefl by Mr. Kerslake of Bristol ;— 

Austin (Seint) his Meditations and Confessions — " Here bygynnyth a treatise 
that men callith Itichard of seynt victor" — "Carta redemoionis (in English verse) 
^A aoQge of We toowre lorde jhu crista (inverse) — Ave queneof heveu (a poem) 
— Christ's Address to Sinners (in verse) — Vwious verses (running on as if written 
in prose). In the binding of Henry VIII., with the Tudor rose and royal arms 
impressed on the cover, folio. 8ko. liv. on vellum, 25/. A veiy important manu- 
soript, formerly in the Ubrary of King Henry VIII., for whom it seems to have 
been re-bound. The capitals throughout are illuminated in gold and colours. 
Wo have been unable to find any mention of the various ancient English poema 
contained in this volume. The translation of St. Austin, and probably the others, 
would appear to have been made at the request of some nuns, as the translator 
commences the 34th chapter, " Thankyd be almyhti god my gode suatren. I 
have now pform^d yr desyre in englysshinge these meditacions, etc." Through- 
out this highly interesting manuscript the th is viritten in a shape between the y 
and the n, and the initial y almost as a 3. Wo subjoin here the beginning of 
" the Songe of Love," contained in this collection, which formerly bebnged to a 
sovereign of England : — 

" Ihu moat BWettest of any thynga 
To love yow I have grete longjng 
Therefore I bysecho yow hevyn kynge 
Moke me of yovire love to have felinge." 

Lecljonarium ad usiun Ecclesite, 4lo. Seeo. ii. on vellum, 71. 7i. This 
ancient manuscript, written in a very fine small Carlovingian character, pointA out 
what part of the Gospels is to be read on every day throughout the year, and is 
most important for the names of the saints to be commemorated. The handwrit- 
ing, in some leaves, is a little obliterated. 

Lectionarium cum Notis Mnsicia, in the original oak binding. 4ta. Steo. 
j.-xi. on vellum, 30 guineas. A very valuable manuscript for the early history 
of the Liturgy, written on very stout vellum, with a large capital finely illumi- 
nated in the style of the time. The musical notes are very nicely written in 

[Mr. Libri's descriptions are, for the most part, complete and feir, but be does 
not seem to have dotio justice to this venerable codei. It is in fact a full Mis^, 
and not a Leotiouary. The Canon Misste n^ be compared with the ancient 
Gr^orian Litui^ published by Muratori, Where the Vatican MS., which he 
prints as the text, varies from the Othobonian in his margin, this MS. sometimes 
agrees with one and sometimes with the other. The curious character which, 
repreeenla the words "Vere diguum," reproduced by Murateri, contiuuidly 
occurs in this manuscript. Many additions are made to the ancient text, in lat^ 
but very ancient hand-writings. Some of them in the margins are equivalent to 



D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



238 Intelligmce. [October, 

Bubrioa, the sotusl red rubrioa being little more than titles, et«. Tbia book is 
also of great value as a Musical Mouument, Avm the very great quantity which 
it Dontajna of the ancient ootation, looking more like accents than notes, and 
without any lines. At the end, written bj a later hand, is a curious record of 
the conaeoration of a chapel " Anno dni. m. oc. uii. I die 8ce Barbare," In the 
original embossed calf binding, oovered with repetitioni of a legend and a sort of 
bad^r.] 

Missale Eomanum seu Pontificale (cum Notia Musioia), folio. 8seo. juv. on 
vellum, 36 guineas. — This splendid specimen of early EngUth art, written on the 
purest vellum, in rod and black fine large cbaractern, is adorned with eight minia- 
tures and 280 capital letters, richly illuminated in gold and colours, often eitend- 
ing the whole length of the page to form borders. These capitals are highly 
onuimental, and exhibit in their aourinhea human heads, birds, beaats, fish, 
nondeaoripte, grotesques, and flowers. In one of the borders the hunting of the 
hare, and in another, a boy ou stilts, axe introduced. Other subjects represent 
playing on the fiddle, blowing the horn, a king with bis crown oo, a monk say- 
ing mass, a cardinal, Bcce Homo, etc., etc. At the end, in a much moreTnodem 
haid, are the creed and various services, including the Oralio Sirti IV., with the 
date of 1475. In every respect, as well for the fineness of the illumination, as for the 
state of preservation, this manuscript ia most interesting to the English collector. 

[This contains the Missai Service as when celebrated by the Popo in person]. 

Officium Beatte Mari» Tirginis Eomanie Curise — Missa B. Maris Virginis — 
Officium Mortuorum^Septem Psalmi Penitentiales et Letanios — Officium Sanoti 
Spiritus — Officium Sanct^ Crucis, green silk, 12mo. Ssec. iv. on vellum, 9i. 9». 
Beautifully written on Italian vellum, with sii miniatures and numerous richly 
illuminated capitals in gold and colours, having the name of the scribe at the end 
of the Officium Mortuorum, "Et scriptum manu M. Christofori de la turre." 
Prefixed is a calendar, with an illuminated capital at the corcmencement of each 
month. Neit follows a panting of an altar, having for its inscription, " Sacratis. 
Virgini. Marie. Dicatum," in golden capitals. The first page ia finely illuminated 
with a miniature in the centre (the Annunciation). To each of the other serrioes 
are appropriate miniatures, executed in gold and colours, in the style of Maitre 
Simon, "ti^ Matter of DUtancei." 

Passionale Sanctorum Martyrum, etc., scilicet— Vita et Actus Sci SOvestri 
Papie tJrbis Eome — Vita Scte Genofevte Virginis — Vita S. Benedict!— Vit* 8. 
Eemigii Bpiacopi et Confessoris — Passiones 8. Felids Preabyteri, 8. MMoelli 
Papse aliorumque — Vitie S. Hadelini Confessoris (aliorumque Sanctorum multo- 
rum), haJf morocco, foho. 8se«. li. on vellum, 36 guineas. A splendid manu- 
script of the ancient Passionale, with several of the large capitals flourished im 
elegant designs, fiat of the "Paasio 3. Bartholomei Apostoli," representing * 
triple cathedral. In the " Vita Sanctissimi Servatii Tungrensis Boolesiffi Antd- 
stitis," the Greek words IViWi tttaurir occur, written knoti ce aytvm. Amongst 
other lives preserved in this venerable manuscript are the apocryphal accounts of 
the martyrdoms of St. Peter and St. Paul, vrritten as here staled, " a Lino Bpis- 
oopo Romano Grseca lingua . . . et eccle^ orientalibus dostinatum." These 
Lives of S^nte are Tery valuable, as they contain much information respecting 
the history of Europe after the lall of the Eoman Empire, which, without the 
help of such biographies, would be involved in much greater darkness than it is. 
The Lives of Saint Genofeve, of 8, Bemigius, 8. Vitis, S. Symphorianus, 8. 8er- 
vatjus, S. fienedictus, a:id of several other saints, are considerable works, inla- 
mately connected with the history of Italy and Prance at the very beginning of 
what is called modern history. Ths dba-wino of thb thbsh chubches em- 
bodied in the large capital I, which is at the b^inuing of the Passio 8. Bartho- 
lomei, aObrds one of the rarest specimens of architeBtiiral dramagi during that 
period, and the very first words of the same Life (which is full of curious infor- 
mation rdating to ancient India), shew that the author was acquainted with the 
three diS^nt Indias of the ancients, a Ihct not so generally known as it ought 
to be, but which explains some pasaagea of ancient classiciJ history, whbh other- 
wise it would be very difficult to understand. These words are : — 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Intelligence. 239 

"Indie treg esse ^ud hurtotiograpboa dicuntnr. Prima est Indin qtue ad 
ethiopiam mittit. Becunda qnn ad medo«. TertU quK finem fodt ; Nam ei uno 
latere tenebramm re^onem gerit, ex alio mare oceaoam." 

Of the lives of Swnts, known as PasMonalia, which are held in great estima- 
tion amongst learned men, only a vary few can oompele with the present, rather 
on account of their antiquity, or of the number of lives they contain. Our 
Manuscript, consisting of about 170 leaves, is written in double ooiumns, in yery 
fine Homan chaiucters, without any mixture of any Gotbio form whatever. In 
the great Catafogm BibUotAeca MegiiE Parinenait there is an immense number 
of these Ftte Sam^omm, but, with a few exceptions, the Manusoripte in which 
they are ooutajned belong to the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries. 
"We must add that the present Manuscript contains a Fassio S. Oengtdji martyris 
muB stt Vidntneati, connected with the history of Pipptmi* rex FroMCorma, which 
ufe of 8t, Grengutl^s we hare not found in the Index of the said Catalogua SibliO' 
thecu SegiiB, and therefore we are induced to behove that this life, which b also 
interesting as forming (under tbo title of Hjatoria 8. Gangolfi), the subject of one 
of the poems of the celebrated Hrosvita, is exceedingly scarce. We do not know 
if this 8. Geugulfus has any connexion with the S. Genuulfus whose hfe is in a 
manuscript of the twelfth century at Moutpelher, Catalogue OfoA-ale dei Jfanu- 



P^te: 



1 Davidis, cum Glossa, Accedunt Hymni ei Veler Testomenlo, 
luui morocco, small folio, Sico. i. — li. on Vellum, 36 guineas. Beautifully writ- 
ten on pure vellum, with the letter B at the commencement of the first Psalms, 
illuminated in gold and colours, apparently by an Anglo-Saxon artist. The manu- 
script is written in a rather large fine Eioman-Cuirlovin^iui character of the period, 
the rubies, etc., being in capital red rustic letlors. 

[|The initial of Psalm cviii, contains a miaiature dngularly resembling that 
ancient state costume which \t. still worn by the Judges, includi:^ the immense 
erm^iilaiiim of artificial hair which rises from the shoulders.] 

Ps^terium Davidis, Confesrio Fidei S. Atbanasii, Litaoise, etc,. Cum Calen- 
iana, oalT gilt, 4Aa. Steo. liv, on Tellum, 61, \&t. A very el^aat Manuscript, 
with illuminated capitals and several hundred grotesque figures filling up the 
vacant spaces at the end of each verse, by an English scribe. As a specimen of 
early English art it is extremely interesting. 

PsaJmorum Eiplanatio — Serroo Innocentii Papie in Concilio generah do Pascha 
— Hymni Ecclesiastici — Cantioa Canticorom — Paraphrasia Libri qui dicitur Can- 
tiote Cantioorum et alia, with muneal luites, 4to, calf. Siec, xii., liii,, and liv,, 
on vellum, 9t 9t. This volume is a collection of works, written by various scribes 
at different timee. The Music, dispersed through the manuscript, is with old 
musioal not«s. There are several Latin Hymns in the volume, one of whioh 
begins with " Salve mater aalvatoris vas electre, vas honoris, vas celeetis gratis," 
and some abstrscte from S. Augustin, 

Teslamentum Novum, Latine, cum Prologis, original stamped binding, with 
clasps (a very bng sort of) folio. Sseo. xvii,, on veUum. Beautifully written on 
very pure vellum, in a folio, of the very unusual shape known as " Agenda." 
The text occupies the centre of each page, leaving ample mar^s on each side, 
which, as regards the Gvangeltst^ are filled with Glosses in ab^utiful small hand. 
Two fly-leaves in front are filled with " Concordantise Evangehonim," and on the 
two fly-leaves at eud are " Olossie de Matheo et de Marco obmisste," [Dimenrions 
20 inches by 7], 

Connexion beivjeen the flwtories of Oreeee anSA»iyria, — It is possible that 
fHiture researches among Assyrian or Persian monuments may throw some 
light even on the historical nocleus of tLe tale of Troy. Who knows that some 
jnBt baried stone may not be fonnd to contain a copy of the letter, preserved ly 
Cephalion, in which Priam, after the death of Hector, implored succour from his 
liege lord, King Teutamus ? I should not need it to satisfy me as to the real 
groandwork of the Iliad. I am convinced that there must have been more than 
one Trojan War before the earliest Greek colonists gained a permanent footing 



.byCOOl^lC 



140 Intelligence. [October, 

n the coast of Asia Minor. For I believe that Strabo correctly describes tbe 
tate of things nhicb preceded that event, when he sa,ya that the eorliei period 
las one of coDtinoal flax and reflux, of intaBiona and migrations, between 
and Asia. That statement, 

all our present knowledge on , _._ 

wort for that whole world of poetical croatioos with which it ,. 

I am not sure that we sboiUd be great gainers if their place were to he auppHed 
bj more authentic details. But the most nnfortunate of all eichanf^s wonld be, 
to substitute for them something which is neither historj' nor poetrj, which can 
neither chano nor instruct, hut wearies only to mislead. Stilf I must own that 
I am not sanguine about the discoTery of any monumental evidence which will 
ascertain the western limits of the Assyrian empire in the thirteenth ceiitorr 
before oor era. Whenever any such shall have been brought to light, it will 
need to be very cantionalj examined. The material on which events are 
recorded affords no sure warrant of the accuracy with which they are related. 
We know of a city where at least one inscribed pillar, " like a tall bnily, lifts its 
head and lies." Roaeilini and Bnnsen acknowledge and deplore the pompous 
inanity of the Egyptian monumental style, in which the few grains of real infor- 
mation lie thinly scattered in a vast mass of what is better expressed by a 
French than an English word^uer&iape. And Col. Mure remarks : " Much of 
the ampliGcatioD that might otherwise have formed the advantage of the Asiatic 
records consisted of hyperbolica], and probably in great part fabulous, eulogies 
_!■.., -_ a iploitsof the vain -glorious despot — "" '"^ '' "~"" 



of the virtues and eiploits of the vain -glorious despots who ruled those c( 

and who. in furtherance of the same object of personal gloriScation, were m lae 

habit of expunging or correcting the annals of tbeir predecessors." 

Tbe Assyrian monarchs, who took such pains to transmit their achieve- 
ments to posterity, might easily he tempted to indulge in a little exag^ration 
abont them. As an or^menfum ad hoiairum against M. Kruger, I might not 
Dnfairlr refer to a passage which he himself cites from the Bhah-nameh, in 
which Kei-Khosreu— whom he identifies with the Tiglath-Pilesec of the Bible — 
is made to speak of his kingdom as extending from China and India to distant 
Ronm, and is addressed by one of his grandees as the most powerful of all the 
princes who had filled the throne, from Uinntshehr to Kei-Kobad. This must 
be quite as authentic ae the description of Minutshobr's conquests in the same 
poem, only we are better able to appreciate the accuracy of the statement. Sen- 
nacherib may not have been at all exceeding the bounds of truth, when be 
boasted (according to Sir U. Rawlinson, Oaaint, p. IB) of having "reduced 
nnder his yoke all tbe kings of Asia, from tbe upper forest, which is nnder the 
Betting shn (Lebanon), to the lower ocean, which is under the rising sun (the 
" ' n Gnlf)." Indeed, when we remember his campaign in Cilicia, signaliied 



by the building or restoration of Taraas, this appears to be hardly an adeqiiBte 
account of his achievements. But this language certainly suggests tbe belief 
that be meant to claim the gtoty of having extended tbe empire in these direc- 
tions beyond the limits which it bad ever before reached ; and I find it difEcnlt 
to conceive that ho would have expressed himself in snch terms if there had 
been inscriptions extant in any of his palaces from which it appeared that one 
of his predecessors had ruled from the Indus to the £gean. M. Kruger thinks 
that the provinces west of the Halys were lost to Assyria towards the Deginning 
of the twelfth century (b.c. 1119—1105), when the great Lydian monarchy wia 
which Agron had been invested, was enabled, throagh the weakness of tbe 
prince (the Nuder of the Shah-namch) who followed the last Minatshehr, to 
assert its independence. But if so, this Lydian kingdom must itself shortly 
after have undergone some great loss of territory, through cansca no trace of 
which has been preaorved in history ; for it seems clear that tbe Greek colonists 
in Asia Minor did not find it occupying the coast on which they settled ; and 
according to Herodotus, their independence was first threatened by Gyges. 
That the Lydian power had previonaly suffered any check which compelled it 
to tolerate the encroachments of the Greeks, appears to have been wholly un- 
known to Herodotus. His idea plainly was, that it had been constantly grow- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1859.] Intelligence. 241 

ing. I must howeTer obserre, in justice to M. Emger, that in Castor'a epocba 
of the m&ritime States, as thej have now been elacidated and determmed, with 
admirable learning and acoteness, bj Chevalier Ilnnaen {^g. vi., p 4311 the 
naval power of the Lfdione, or as it wonid seem more prcmerl; the MieonULna, 
dates from 1150 b,o. ; a date which might very weJl coincide with the SUppoaed 
recovery of the national independenoe. 

I will only add two reiDarks, which ma; be neoesaary to gvard against mia- 
apprehenaion. 

The object of the foregoing obserrationB has been simply to examine the 
evidence which has lately neen adduced to prove the existence of a political 
connexion between Greece and Assyria in the thirteenth century n.c. The 
result to my own conviction has been to shew that the evidence is qaite incon- 
clusive. I have also pointed out that there ia evidence, qnito as well entitled to 
credit as anj that has been produced on the other side, which apparently tends 
to the opposite conclusion. But I do not mean to deny the fact. I am qaite 
ready to admit it, as soon as it shall be established by satisfactory proof. I 
only contend that at present it is no more than matter of very qneationable 
surmise, A negative dogmatism on such a auhject wonld be stili mOTo pre- 
samptnoUB than a positive assertion restins on insafficient grounds. Mr. Layard 
lias observed, with judiciona caution, " To the west the Assyrians may have 
penetrated into Syria, and perhaps Lydia." If, indeed, we were speaking, not 
of a permanent establishment, bnt of a mere temporary inroad, it would be raah 
to assign any limit to their advance in this or anv other direction. There is 
even what has been accepted hy very eminent critics as satisfactory evidence, 
that the Assyrian arma were carried still further weatward in the later times of 
the monarchy. For in a fragment of Abydenua, preserved in the Armenian 
Eusebius (i. p. 53), we are informed that the avenger of Sennacherib, Assar- 
haddon, — there called Axerdis, — after slaying the assassin Adramelech, pursned 
his army, and shot it up, or forced it to take refuge, in the cit^ of the Byzan- 
tians. Niebnhr, in his celebrated diBqnisitioD "on the gain whieh has accrued 
to history from the Armenian translation of Eusebina," takes no offence at this 
statement, and reports it as if Abydenus had said that Axerdis had " marched 
through Western Asia as far as Byzantinm, with an army of mercenariea." 
But this is not quite correct. The &agmeut first relates the pursuit of Adrame- 
lech's army, and then states that Axerdis was the first (of the Assyrian kings) 
who collected mercenary troops. Bnt aa to the march of Axerdia to Byzantium, 
in the first place, this aeems to be more than is distinctly affirmed in the Arme- 
nian teit, the Latin translation being, " Eiercitum peraeoutus in Bjzantinorum 
utbem inclndit." The term of the retreat might have escoeded~that of the pur- 
HUit. Bnt I must own that I cannot help suspecting some mistake in the name 
of the Byzantians, not on aoooont of the strangeness of the occurrence, or the 
absence of all confirmative and illustrative testimony, but because the whole 
account seems to be at variance with the Scripture narrative. Abydeuus appears 
not to have been correctly informed as to the death of Adramelech, who in the 
Kbie is related to have escaped, together with his brother Sharezer, (of whom 
Abydenus takes no notice,) mto Armenia. And the Armenian historian, Moses 
of Chorene, describes (i. 23) the districts of Armenia which were allotted by the 
King Sgaiorti for the roaidence of the two brothers. It would seem to follow 
that the pnrsait mast have taken place, and have been arreatod, somewhere or 
other in that direction. 

The other remark which I have to make refers to a point on which 1 
touched at the outset. The author of the work which has given occasion to- 
these observationa, apeaks as if one of his main objects was to help to break 
dovm the partition by which the school to which he is opposed has endeavoured 
to exclude the influence of Oriental culture on the development of the Hellenic 
mind. But I think it mnit he evident that the questions whieh T have been dis- 
cussing have scarcely any bearing on that controversy. Whether he has auc- 
ceeded, or fiiiled, iu his attempt to restore a chapter in the political history nf 
Greece in the thirteenth centni? B.C., the result will not affect any view that 
may be entertained as to the original character of the earliest popalation of 
VOL. I. — NO. XIX. 



.byCOOl^lC 



242 Intelligence. [October, 

Orwoe,- or tlie degree in which it vtts anlijectcd to foreign iDflnenceg. These 
are qoeatioiiB which manifeetlj go bach into a far higher Rntiiiaity than he him- 
self asaigng to the migration of Pelops, According to all oocoanti, that event 
affected the relations of the ruling families in Greece, rather than the condition 
of the people ; bat it can reQect no light whatever on their previous history. It 
may be admitted, or rejected, without the compromifle of anj opinion as to the 
DBtare of the elements which composed the Greek natiocality, or the processes 
by which they were fused together. The author has enriched the controversy 
aboat the name of the Pelasgians with a new hypothesis, hy which it is derived 
from the god Bel. But whether we adopt this, or prefer that of a different 
Semitic root, which connects it more immediately with Palestine, or that which 
traces it to the Sclavonic, more particnlarly the Palish branch of that family, or 
fall back upon a Greek doriTation— «11 which hypotheses have been recently 
maintained with a great shew of erudition^we shall not be the more tied to any 
conclnsion as to the fortunes of Pelops, or the history of the Trojan War. And 
though every serious attempt to let in a beam of the day-light of hietoncol truth 
on the heroic age of Greece may awaken a natural and reasonable curiosity, the 
chief interest of the whole inquiry in which we have been engaged belongs 
rather to Asia than to Europe ; as it is, I believe, only to the East that we can 
look with a well-grounded hope, however faint, of anch an accession to our 
knowledge of that period, as would enable us iu a single point to distinguish 
with certtuntr between fiotiou and reality. — Bishop of St. David's, in Traiaac- 
tiotu of Rojjid Sockty of LiUrature,Yo\. ri., part 2, p. 207. 



OBIIUABT. 



ARCHDEACON HARDWICK. 
Died on the IBth of Aagnit, by a fall from the Pyreanees, the Ven. Archdeacon 
Hardwick. 

It will be with no common feelings of lad diiappointment that those who knew 
him bett will realize the tragical event by which he has so suddenly vanished from 
among men. It may be almost iiud, 

Ostenderunt terrii hunc tantam fata. 
Befiire having quite attained hit prime, hut having given more than promise of aa 
illnstrioui career, he has " finished his course." 

Archdeacon Hardwick had not that sort of talent which is popularly admired as 
gtitau, and which often gains it* credit by daring eccentricities, which amuses and 
often leads astray by its meteoric dance. Of this kind of talent we have perhaps at 
least enough in the present day ; while of that kind of mental and moral power which 
is required for the maintenance of what is great and good, which is contont to forego 
public appUnie in a patient continnfmce of the well-doing which advances the b^t 
interests of mankind, we have at least not too much ; and, hnmanly speaking, a cha- 
racter like Archdeacon Hardwick could ill be spared. 

He was eminently an tameti man ; and by this is meant not merely the eagerness 
with which even trifles may be pursaed, but that love of truth which distingnishea 
the real tram the false, and that concurrence of the jadgment and Uie heart with the 
pursuits of the intellect. 

His degree was a good one in the Mathematical Tripos, in which he was FuM 
Senior Optimej but his tastes and attainments would have placed him high in the 
Classical Tripos if a temporary failure of health had not prevented bis competing. 
He had been classical and theological prizeman in his college, where he obtained * 



.byCOOl^lC 



1659.] OHtttary.. 243 

Fellowsbip jmmediatetf aAer taking his B.A.. degree. Ab a member of the " well- 
ordered " college of St. Catharine he was much beloved, was eiemplary in all his de- 
portmeat, and- increuiogl; regarded as one of its distinguiahed oroameDls. Wbile 
contributing to the amenities of monastic life by his genial dispoaition, be exhibited 
the advantages of it by the diUgence with which he availed bimaelf of its fine oppor- 
tunities. He was decidedly Conservative io his convictions, though his reading was 
extensive in the literature which, both at home and abroad, is <rf au opposite cha- 
racter. His leaning was to the High Church school of theology — at least, to that 
sphere of it which m^ut^ns the importance of eccIesiaBtical antiquity ; but he waa 
not a party man, and it would not be easy to discover any undue bias in his published 
works. Hia lliilmy of the Chriilum C/mrch during tht Middle Agn and the Refor- 
malian has obtained high praise, even from those whose views were opposite lo the 
prindplea of the author. It is the condensed resnlt of a large amount of inquiry 
among original sources, and nothing but the assimilatioa of bis maleriaLs Could have 
enabled him to present them in so interesting a form. 

The office of Christian Advocate, to which Mr. Hardwick was appointed in 1855, 
was well suited to the tendencies of his mind, and to the nature oif hia studies for 
■everal yearg. According to the will of the (bonder, the writings of the Christian 
Advocate were to r^;ard the general interests of Christianity, by fniuishing repUes to 
cavils ^jainst reveal^ reUgion which had not been sufficiently answered, " not descend- 
ing to any particular controversies or sects among Christiana themselves," unless some 
new or dangerous error should arise, The prc^nnd and masterly series of trealisea 
nuder the general title of " Christ and other Masters " was quite in the spirit of his 
office. There had not in this country been a sufficient answer to the assumptions of 
those who apoke of revealed religion as only a natural development of the philosophy 
which had arisen in different forms in all localities and ages of human history ; and 
the Chriatian Advocate perceived that the beat answer which could be given would be 
in a candid and unquestionable account of what the religions of heathendom actually 
have been. In so doing he has avoided all appearance of special pleading, while he 
has afforded abundant evidence that where tii human speculations failed the religion 
of Christ lias been most triumphant. Heathenism exhibits everywhere what our 
bomily speaks of as " the misery of mankind," without affording any hint at a true 
remedy, while Christianity exhibits the cogency of its claims as the living and life- 
^ving " Word of God," by working mightily in them that beheve. The conviction 
to be derived Iram Archdeacon Hardwick'a discussion of this subject, and which is 
increasingly apparent in the pri^;ress of the work as the solemn feeling of Ms own 
mind, is, that it is in the Evangehcal aspect of Christianity that it stands out in 
Divine proportions above all the speculations of men. We shall be glad to hear that 
the continuance of this subject is found amongst Archdeacon Hardwicik's remains. 
The most interesting portion of Che ancient world had still to be treated of, and this 
would assuredly have called forth the best energies of the Christian Advocate, espe- 
cially as he was profoundly acquainted with the mat«ials belonging to it. 

There can be no doubt that Archdeacon HSrdwick would have thrown into the 
office in the Church to which he has been lately preferred the well-known energy of 
his character, and that he well deserved the distinction which it brought with it ; but 
it is a question whether this was exactly the form in which his services should have 
been acknowledged. It seems as if the duty of an Archdeacon requires considerable 
experience of parochial work, while the qualifications of Archdeacon Hardwick pointed 
to our cathedral establishments as affording the appropriate means of giving its full 
effect to the light that was in him. Nearly at the same time that the Chriatian Advo- 
cate became thus called upon to preside over the parochial clei^, a popular parochial 
minister of the same University became Dean of Ely. 

Archdeacon Hardwick was a good man ; his short life on earth has been diligently 
and fruitfully spent ; and the Christianity of which he was the advocate would lead 
us to far other thoughts and feelings than those which this sad bereavement would 
primarily call forth.- — Clerical JoamaL 

We gather the following biographical information from Cmckford't Clerical Dime- 
torg! The Venerable Charles Hardwick was acholai' of St. Catharine's Hall, Cam- 
bridge, 1841 ; Classical and TheologicBl Prizeman, 1842 ; fint Senior Optime and B.A., 



.byCOOl^lC 



244 Obituary. [October, 

1844 ; PcUow, 1S4S ; and H.A., 1847. He wu ordained deacon, IS46 ; and pricBt, 
1847 i waa named Select Preacher at the Univenitj of Cambridge, 18S0i Preacher 
at the Chapel Rofal, Whitehall, 18^1; Profeaaor of Divinity at Queen's College, 
Birminghain, 1B53; Divioit; Lecturer at King's College, Cambridge, ISbb; Chriatian 
Advocate in the Univenit} of Camlmdge, 1855 ; Member of the Council of the Senate. 
18S6j Archdeacon of Ely, 1859. He waa author of the following worki: Aa Hitto- 
rieai Ingiiirj/ loaching SI. Ctttharint iff Altxmdria (to whidi ii added a Semi.SaiOD 
Legend), 1849 ; HMory qf the Arliclew if the Ckureh <f Oiglaid, 1851, reprinted 
at Philadelphia, 1852; TWn/ji Sermmu for Tvum Congrtgatimu, 1853; Churth 
HMory if Iht Middle Agn, 1853; Church Hillary if the Sifirmalim, 1856; 
Chriil aad other Molten, or an HiilorieaJ Inquiry into tome qf the c/tief Parallels 
itnu and Conlraiti belvieen Chriilianily and the ReUgimu Syitemi of the Ancient 
World, Four Parta, 185S-a9. He vraa further Editor of Fnheood'i Rama Rail. 1847 ; 
Poem on the Tima qf Edward II.. and an " Anglo-Saxm Piuiion of St. George 
(Percy Society); Tvn/aden'a lliilerical tindiealion if the Church if England, 1847; 
The HomiUet, 1850. Besidea theu worki, in the courae of iait year he completed, 
at the request of the ayndia of the Uoiveruty Fien, an edition of the Saxon and 
Northumbriaii veraioDa of St. Matthew's Goapel, commenced by tbe late Hr. iiAm H. 
Kemble, and edited for tbe Maater of the Rolli tbe vrell-knovrn Halory if the 
JHomutery qf SI. Angiatuufi, Canterbury, preserved in the hbrary of Trinity HaU. 
He wai alio editor i^ the Catalogoe of MS3. now in coune of publication bj tbe 
Univcnity of Cambridge, to which he contributed the deacriptiona of the volomea of 
Ai^lo-Saion, Anglo-Norman, and e*rly En^h literature. 



THE REVEREND J. E. RIDDLE. 

The Rev. Joseph Esmond Riddle, late Bampton Lecturer of the University of Oxford, 
and Incumbent of St. Philip and St, James, Leckhampton, died Aug. 27, at his resi- 
dence, Tudor Lodge, Cheltenham, in the fifty-fifth year of his age. Oroeifcrd'i 
Clerical Directory furnishes ns with the following particular of his career : he entered 
H student of St. Edmund Hall, Oxford, and paased firat claaa Lit. Hum. and B.A. in 
1828; MA. in 1831; got ordained deacon, 1830 ; prieit, 1832; became select preacher, 
1834, and again in 1854 ; Bampton Lecturer, 1852. Before this he had been nomi- 
nated, in 1840, Incumbent of tbe proprietuy church of St. Philip and St. Jamea, 
Leckhampton, near Cheltenham. The Rev. J. E. Riddle was author of the following 
works ; lOiatralioni if Arielotle en Men and Maimen fivm Shake^eare, I2mo., 
Rivingtons; Fint Svndayi at Church, or FaniHar Onmerteliant on the Morning 
and Evening Servica, seven editions, 12mo., J. W. Parker; Churthman'i Guide to 
the Uie if the Engtith Liturgy, l2mo., ibid, ; A Sfalmal if Chriilian Antiqiafiet, 
two editions, ibid.; A Complete EngHih-Lalia and Latin-EngUih Dictionary, 8vo, 
ten editions, Longmans ; Young Seholar'a EngUih-Lalin and Lalin-Eitgliih BieHonerg, 
dght editions, square 12mo, ibid.; A Diamond Latin-EngHlh Dictionary, 32mo., 
four editions, ibid. ; A Critical Latin-EngUah Lexicon, small 4to, two editions, ibid. ; 
Eecleiiaitical Chronology, or Annaii of the Chriitian Church, Sro, ibid. ; Letleri 
from an Absent Godfather, 12mo, ibid,; Lufhir and hit Ttatn, a Hiitory of Ihe 
German R^ormation, 12mo, J. W. Parker; The Holy Go^ele fOrefk Text, for 
Schoole), IZmo, Varty ; Sermone, Doctrinal and Fraelical, 8vo, Rivingtons ; Natural 
Hillary of Ir^idetily and Superitition (Bampton Lectom for 1852), 8vo, J. W. 
Parker ; Hiitory of Ihe Papacy to the Period of Ihe Reformation, two voU. Svo, 
Bentiey, ; Heuiehold Frayenfor Four Weeki, two editions, l>ongmans ; A Manual ^ 
Scriplure Hillary, seven editions, ibid. 



.by Google 



1869.] Lut of Pudlicaliona. 245 

NEW WOItES FTTBUSHED DnSINQ THE LAST aUABTER. 
In addiliort to Ihoie notieed m thi body iff ihi Jmrwd. 

FOREIGN. 
Beer (Dr. B.) — Lebenagemalde biblischer Fersonen nach Auffasaung dei 

jadlKben Sage. Sro. Leipilg, 

Brandt (Pred, A. H. W,)— Die Gerechtigleit aus dem Glauben. Gesetz 

ii.OlHnbe.DeiCliriBMnBenifzur Fremelt. Drel pcoteaUntlulie FrAdlgleii. AiDBUidus, 
BefffanU. 

Bnich (J. Ft.) — Die Lehre t. der Praexistenz der menBchliohen 8eelen 

hiitorlicli-kTltlKti rUrgBgCellt. Sro. BUaubuig, TreuCtsl uad Wurlx. 

Dechamps (B.) — Chriatus u. die Antichriatea nach dem ZoDgnisBe der 

BcbcuC del OucblohU a, d. QeiriHSOB. Hilnz, Kin^hheiin. 

Frank, (Lie. Qiiat.) — De Matthite Flacci Il];rici in iibroa ucros mentis. 

CommenUtlii tbwilogla. Btd. Idlpiig, Bnltkopf uhI HXrtel. 

Franc. Petrarcffi Aretini cannina incognita. Ex codicibaa Italtds bib- 

lloltaecoi UoiuoenBl* iplucemproteftxltipAonuaqiH iid ImtuiiuiinBoriptoranied.Qao.llftrt. 
Thomas. 

Geacbichte des Babbi Jeachua ben JoaseF hanootzri genannt Jeaus Christna. 

HuDbu^, Batei. 

Holsten (Dr. C.) — Inhalt a. Gedankengangd. Briefea an die Galater. 4to. 

Boatock, atUUr. 

Kolzhausen (Lie. Dr. Frdr. Aug.) — Der Proteatantismus nach seiner 

genhliiliUlchanEDtitehiuig,BegT(lDilniigD.FoHUldimg, 8>d. Lslpilg, Brockliaai. 

Krones (Priest. Frz. Bdra.) — Homiietischea Beal-Leiicon, od. ; Alpia- 

baaacll leordMle DariteUong dor gacdgiHUtaD ProdigUtoffe au dor Kathol. 01anben*ii. 
Slttenlebra, Lllurgle eU. Zum Uaadgebrauclie t. Fradigsr n. REUgionaletirer, 8vo. Kegena- 

Krumbaar {Pastor K.) — Dr. Martin Lutber'a Vaterhaus in Mansfeld. 

Ein Beltrag Eni HefOcmiiUanigeHhlahte nach dan Qnellea gurb. 8to. Elileben, Eelchardl. 

Leben daa, d. heiligen Philipp Neri, Apostela v. Bom u. Stiftera der 

CoDgnttatkoQ d, OratoriiuDfl, Nebat e. LoliTedo uf dan EfllUgan t. Sr. EmliL Cardinal 
WI«inaD,n.e. Anbange t. Spnichea d. Heingso auf Jedau Tag d. Jahna t. P. Fndatik 
WUUam Ftbei. Denucb bearb. v.Cail U.Baidjjng. 8vd. Regeniburg, Mam. 

. die iibrigen beriihmteaten Kirch- 

iDng del homilet, Frlndplan. Btd. TttUngen, 

Maver (Geo. Karl.) — Die patriaTcbaliacben YerheiasuDgen u. die Messianls- 

cben Fulmea, Sro. Nrlcdnnsen, Beck. 

Nickea (Presbyter Dr. Joa. Ana.) — De Bstherte libro et ad earn qua per- 

Usent mlEliilIt at pulmla llbri tree. Pare altera; Libri duo. II. et III. de TatlolDlteel 
pealmiL Sro. RomB, Lelpalg Oarhard. 

Noack. — Ludw., Scbelling u. die Fhilosophie der Eomautik. Ein Beitng 

zur CuIturgeKhlchle d. deauSiaD aeialei. DerUa, Ulttler usd Sohn. 

Feries (Jos.) — Meletemata Feschitthoniana. Diasertatio inauguralls. 8to. 

Braalan, Bchlatlei. 

Fsalterium joxta LXX. Interpietes, Editionis rulgo dictee Alexandriaie 
Psyche. — Zeitachrift f. die Eenntniss d. menschlichen Seeleu-u. Geistea- 

lebena. Von Dr. Lodir. Noack. Lalpalg, D. WIgud. 

Beinke (Dr. Laurenz). — Die ScbdpfuDg der Welt. 8»o. Miinster, 

Coppanratb. 



.byCOOl^lC 



216 Lift of Pubhcation*. [October, 

niehm (E. B. A.) — Der LehrbegriS des Hebr&erbriefee dargeatellt, u. m. 

terwuidten LeliibegriB«D TerKllshen. 9. 8ni. Ludwlgiburg, Blehm. 

Schelling (Frdr. Wilh. Jos.)— Sammlliche Werke. Stuttgart, Cotta. 
(Schmid BUB Schwarzenberg, Dr. X.) — Kene Descartes u. Beioe Beform 

d« PhUoMphlt. Am den QntUen dvK«t«11t a. kiltlncb Msashtat. Sro. NErdlingui, 

Schmidt, (Dr. Eug. v.) — Die Zwolfgotter der Grieclien geschichta-pliiloao- 

phiHh beleachtM. Bra, Jem, DslitDng. 

Schild (F. X.) — Manuals liturgicum aive explicatio BacroriiiQ rituum juita 

lubricu « pnbatla sgotoribDl dwompU. Sio, Sluttgmrt. Satir, BchalClln. 

Schmiedl (Eabb. Dr. A.) — dtdb Sanaionim. Betrachtungen iib. die funf 

BUcber Uoiti nucb OrdnniiK der WcKhanalMchDltta. Eln Bnah t. Bcbule, Huis n. Tempal. 
Zur VerlireltK. erbahUT Knnde D. WOrdigg, d. Jodsnthmm, » iria EDI Filiderg. nUgtdHi 
loDlgkeltu. Begelitsraiig. Sro. Fng, Leipzig, C. L. Frituohe. 

Schultz (Prof. Dr. Fr. W.) — Daa DeTiteronomium erklart, 8to. BctIId, 
Sederbolm, (Pred. Dr. Karl) — Der geiatige Kosmoa. Eine Weltaneobaunng 

der YoTBAImaDg. 8td. Ldpdff, Bnllkapriuid UErtflL 

Spinozismua, der chriatlicli eiganzte, die alleia mogliche VonrteUoDg vom 

nlirluft BDtCUohea Bels, Wanbnig, Halm. 

Slaudenmaier (Dr. Frz. Ant.) — Der GeJBt d. Cbriatenthnma, dai^Btellt 

Id daDhell.ZeltanlndenheU. Hudlongen n. Id der bell Knut. Nit e. ZagibeT.DebeCeii. 
1C»1de, Kapferlnrs. 

Tbeodosii Meliteni qui fertur chroDogrophia. Ei codice graaco regise 

blbllothaoa Monioenili edld. et ndnntTlt Tbeopb, Lucu Frldei. 

Tholuck (A.) — LebettsEeichen der lutheriBcheo Kirohe bub alien Standea 

Tor n. vibreiid der Zelt d. drtlaHlgjCiTlBeii ErlegBL Bro, Berlin, WlegKjidl ami Gricboo. 

Yetter (K. W.) — Die sieben Siegel der Offenbarung d. h. JohauDea. 

Teitgimllii arklirl n. anr Verbersltg. MfBlbeUtimdeu elngarlehlat Bra. Bredia, Dfilbr. 

VolckbauBcn (C.) — Drei B«den iib. GewiseeuBfireibeit. 8vo. Hamburg, 

HoBmuin and Cunpe. 

WeiBBenbom (Dr. Geo.) — Vorleauugen iib. FantbebmuB u. Theismua. 

avD. Mu-bnrg, Elwart. 



Alford (Dean.)— Tbe Greek Teatament, Vol. IV., Part 1, (Epistle to the 

Hebren md tbe Catholic Epiatlei at St. Junei and St. Peter.) Bro. 

Alford (Rev. H.)— Tbe Greek Testament. Fourth Edition, revised. 



Atkins (Rev. Walter B., M,A.)— Three Essaya on tbe Eternal Sonship of 

Chrtal, the Kingdom of Heaven, ud Ihe BeBurreeOoiL Kmo. 

Ballantyne (J, R.) — Christianity contrasted with Hindu Philoaophy : an 

EsuT,lnFlve Boeka, BuiBkrit snd EDgllsh; with Pnctioal Suggeatlani tendered to tha 



Beecher (Rev, H. W.) — Summer in the Soul; or, Views and Experiences. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



1859.] lA»t qS Publications. 24,7 

Biblia Panperum, reproduced in Fac-similie ^m one of tlie Copies ia the 

BHtJsh UDBenn, wlUi an HlMartuI and BlbUognipfalrnl Introdscdon by J. P. ficrieu. 
ttejil 4to. with 40 pUteB. 

Biblical Reason Why: a Family Guide to Scripture Headings, and a 

HHndbook for Blbllul StnlentB, by the Author of " The Rensm Why," Poet Sro. 

Blunt (Julia 8.) — Eeadinga in tbe MomioK and E?eninK Prayer. Second 

Edition, lamc 

Bridge (Rev. C.) — Exposition of the Book of ProTerba. Fourth Edition. 

PotCSTD. 

Bryce (J.) — The Claims of Christianity in India. 12mo. 

Butler (Bishop) — Fifteen Sermons preached at the Bolls Chapel, by the 

Ber. R. CunJchasl, Hew Edition. 8">. 

Church (Essays on the), by a Layman. Berenth Edition, revised, with 
Clissold (Hev, A.) — The Practical Nature of the Doctrines and alleged 

RoTolatioaa contained in lh« Wiitlngi of Emiouel BmdanbfWB. In ■ LsUer to Bla On« 
* Esaayi on aome of the FecDllaritiei of the Chrlitlu Religion." Beoind Edition, pott Bra. 

Coie (Rev. A, Cleveland) — Thoughts on the Services : or Meditations 

belbn Wonhip. Dealgned tM an introdootlQn to tho Litargy, and an aid to Iti deront oae. 
ISmo. 

Cowjper (Rev. B. H.) — Tales of the Martyrs of the First Two Centnries, 
I the New Testanjent, 



- The Church before the Flood. New Edition. 



De Bm^h (Rev. W., D.D,)^A Commentaiy on the Book of Psalms, 

" '" ' iJ PnpliMl**]-, with the tan of Oie Aothorined Version, metileilly 

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Dickinson (H.H., M.A.) — Lectures on the Book of Common Prayer. 



Encyclopffidia Britannica. Eighth Edition. Vol. XVIII. 4to. 
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TMid Edition, wltb u addltloaal TiUe. Hmo. 

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Graves (Very Rev. Richard, D.D.) — Calvinistic Predestination repugnant 

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Berrlce. With ihort Heading! and Eiplanatoty ;Natei. Second Edition, rarlied and 
enlarged. ISmo. 

Hebrew Lyrics, transfusing the Spirit of the Divine Psalmist Into English 

lays, by an Oelogmarian. P«t Bm. 

Horroi (Rev. J.), Memoir of the Life and Labours of, also a Translation 

of UaoelebntsdDlHOiirHDpontheTranalt of Tanna acnw tbe a<m, by Uie Ber. A. B. 

Wlmttoii. ISmo. 

Hymns from the Land of Luther, translated from the German. New 

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Jenkyn (Rev. T. W., D.D.) — The extent of the Atonement in its Relation 

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.byCOOl^lC 



lAti of Pubiicatiom. [October. 



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Slellor (Bev. E.) — The Atonement, ita Belation to Pardon, an Argument 

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Payson (Hey. E., D.D.) — Memoir, Select Thoughts, and Sermons, com- 

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nrlBML tamo. 

Trevor (Kev. J. W.) — Catechism on the Apostles' Creed ; based on 

PopUi In TnlDlng i^Uegea br Nst(DD&l BehmlnuMen. Unn. 

Wright (Rev. C. H. H.)— The Book of Genesis in Hebrew, with a criti- 
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Wylie (Mrs,) — The Gospel in Bunnah ; the Story of its introdnction and 

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.by Google 



JOUENAL 

OF 

SACKED LITERATURE 

AND 

BIBLICAL BECOBD. 



No. XX.— JANUARY, 1860. 



OH THE IBTTE BEADINO AND CORBECT INIEBFBEIAIION 
O; FSALK zL 6. 

The discrepancy between the Septoagiot VersioD of Fealm xl. 6, 
and the Hebrew text as it now stands, is a notable difficulty of 
Biblical criticism. In the following pages an attempt is made, 
if not to solve the problem, yet to pave the way to such solution. 
The usual plan has been to set up the Hebrew on the one band 
and the (Jreek on the other, and to effect, by various means, 
their mutual approximation. We have adopted a somewhat 
different mode of procedure. We have assumed a corruption in 
the Hebrew test, and have endeavoured to arrive at an emenda- 
tion by investigating the meaning and drift of the whole passage; 
without looking off to the reading of the Septuagint Version as 
our goal, or making all our endeavours tend towards the esta- 
blishment of such Hebrew reading as shall be most compatible 
with the Ch%ek rendering. 

Of those who do not think it necessary to have recourse to 
the hypothesis of a cormpt Hebrew text, some refer the -V jrj ogjq 
to the custom mentioned in Exod. xxi. 5, 6, of boring a servant's 
ear with an awl in token of perpetual servitude, and translate 
generally pretty much in the way of tbe paraphrase adopted by 
Grotius, " me tanquam perfossa aure Hbi mancipas ;" and then, 
on the part of the Greek, ff&fia Bi ica-rt}priaa> fioi, they complete 

VOL. X. — NO. XX. 



.byCOOl^lC 



250 On the True Reading and [January, 

tbe approximatioii bj underatanding the tr&fui as corpus ad obe- 
diendum. Why the Greek translators should have gone out of 
their way to express the plain meaning of the Hebrew by this 
periphrasis is not attempted to be explained ; and the reason 
assigned for its adoption by the writer of the Epistle to the 
Hebrews is generally equivalent to that of the Greek scholiast, 
quoted in Wolfius' Curai Philologies : — to, arta ^k icaT7)pTiaa 
fwi, 6 fuucdpiot Ilavhot €K to aeafia /iera^aXKav etptjKev, oiuc 
arfvoCiv TO 'E^paucov, aXhA ttoo? tov oiKelov (Ticonrov TOVT(p XpV~ 
trAfievo^. Now if we look to this oittexo-i ct/cottos of the Apostle, 
we shall find it is not such as to require tntfiM to be understood 
as corpus ad obediendum. We may remark, too, upon the trans- 
lation of the Hebrew by a reference to Ex. xxi. 5, 6, that on 
supposition of such reference we might expect the use of the 
verb »] which is used in that place; or at any rate we might 
expect some verb which would more decidedly express the idea 
of piercing than mj, which lb not elsewhere used in this sense. 
The proper signification is that of digging, which is certainly not 
yery appropriate to the boring of a thing with an awl. 

But besides this attempt at reconciliation by means of the 
above mentioned violent process of metabole, there is another by 
means of a not leas violent synecdoche. It is said that n^ signi- 
fies to prepare ,- that the Hebrew is properly translated parasti 
miki aures, sc. ad obediendum; and that St. Paul used the whole 
for the part, o-u^ for Syria. It is true that rn^ does signify to 
prepare, but only in a speraal sense; not in such a general sense 
as to include the case in question. It is used first of digging 
pit-falls, as in Ps. vii. 15 ; Ivii, 7 ; xciv. 13, and in many other 
places. Then, in course of time, the word -Ai, or nr*, or nn^, as 
the case may be, being dropped, the verb came to be used more 
generally of preparing snares and plots ; but it is manifestly un- 
justifiable to extend its meaning to any other kind of preparO' 
tion. 

A glance, however, at the ouceto^ vKviroi of the writer of the 
Epistle, will suffice to demolish both of these theories. He does 
indeed connect the idea of obedience with the word <r&fia, bat 
the chief idea of the word is plainly that of a sacrificial victim. 
St. Paul, it is admitted, is speaking of the incarnation of our 
Lord. But is he speaking of his incarnation only as an act of 
condescension whereby he assumed a form appreciable by mortal 
sense, in order to reveal the Father and his will to mankind? 
In other words, is he speaking of our Lord's assumption of 
human nature as of the act whereby he became to manJund "the 
image of the invisible God"? In this sense St. Paul might 
have written of the incarnation ; but that this was not his inten- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] Correct InterpretatUm of Ptalm xl. 6. 251 

tion in this place is manifest from the context, which ia wholly 
concerned with a comparison of the Trpo<r<^pai ai Karhrbv v6/iav 
with the irpotrt^oph toO tratfuiro^ tov '/ijffou Xpurrov (see verseB 
9 and 10) ; bo that we cannot nnderstand the use of treofia in 
Ter. 5, otherwise than as of a sacrifice. Admitting that the idea 
of obedience is a component part of the whole id^ of the word 
tr&/ia as the Apostle here nses it, we must he careful not to dis- 
sociate from it that which is plainly the leading idea of the word, 
viz., that of a real sacrifice. This dissociation might answer the 
purpose of such as assert that " Obedience, or doing the will of 
God, was the sacrifice of sweet-smelling savonr which made 
atonement for the sins of the world;"" but it will be a suppressio 
veri not likely to find favour with those who wish to bear in 
mind that the obedience of Christ was vtroKor] fiej(pi Bavarov, 
and that it was by his death he made the atonement. This, 
therefore, we must remember, and must bear in mind in trans- 
ferring onr attention to the Psalm itself from which the quota- 
tion is made ; that the word aS>fJM, and whatever Hebrew word 
it is intended to represent, though placed in some sort of con- 
trast with the other Levitical sacrifices, is itself intended to 
denote a victim of a piacular sacrifice ; and that in it is also 
conveyed the additional idea of obedience to the will of God. 

The prominent features of the place of Scripture under con- 
sideration, connect it with a class of remarkable passages scat- 
tered in various parts of the Old Testament, and which speak of 
obedience to God's will as being more acceptable than sacrifice. 
We refer the reader to the following places, amongst others Ps. 
1. 8, etc. ; li. 16, 17, compared with ver. 19. Isa. i. 11, etc. ; 
livi. 3, 4. Jer. vi. 19, 20; vii. 22, etc. Micah vi. 7. Amos 
V. 31, etc. Prov. xv. 8 ; sxi. 3. 1 Sam. xv. 22. These, we 
say, are remarkable passages, and require carefud consideration. 
We shall not rightly understand them unless we first ascertain 
the place that sacrifice was intended to hold, not only in the 
Mosaic dispensation, but also in the grand scheme of Grod's deal- 
ings with mankind as revealed in the Bible ; of which the Mosaic 
dispensation forms only a subordinate stage. 

We find the following enumeration of the Levitical sacrifices 
in Lev. vii. 87, nrp^ najji dw^^ u^, ™^ rt^'i rtW mirsi nttt. 
These sacrifices have been appropriately classified as impetraloria, 
euchariatica, taApiacularia, We are here chiefly concerned with 
the last class, which consists of the chattath and the aafiam. The 
rip appears to have had, in earlier times, a more general import 
than it bad after the giving of the law ; so general, perhaps, as 

" Dr. Jobn Taylor, of Norwich, m quoted by Abp. Magef , On tkt Jlmentenl. 
s2 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



252 On the TVue Beading and [January, 

to comprehend all of the three classes above-named. Its sub- 
sequent use varrants us in excluding it from the class piacularia. 
The word n^ is opposed both to nnio, a bloodless offering, and to 
n^, a whole burnt-offering; that is, when so contrasted (see 
GeseniuB, Lex. Man., sub. v, mx). Perhaps in the single phrase 
TtTjpt mr, the one may denote all animal- offerings, and the other 
all bloodless -offerings. But when other sacrifices are mentioned 
in connexion with these, then a less comprehensive signification 
must be attached to the word rm. In the list above given from 
Lev. vii. 37, we may arrange the m^, the n^nte, and the cmWn nai, 
under the two heads of nrqw rai; and the remainder, the n^, maij, 
and D^ under the heads rwi n^. We see that the n^ is not the 
same in both cases. Now if an expression is formed to include 
all the Levitical sacrifices, we shall not be likely to find the 
word tm occurring twice; but since in its antithesis to r/p it 
denotes the very important class piacularia, we shall find the 
two members of this class specially mentioned. Thus we arrive 
at the following list comprising aU the Levitical sacrifices, naj 

In considering the elaborate system of sacrifice under the 
Mosaic dispensation, as compared with the simpler forms in which 
it appears in patriarchal us^e, we naturally look for an explana- 
tion of the difference in the different circumstances of the two 
cases. Their respective circumstances we proceed briefly to 
state. And, not to extend unnecessarily the range of our obser- 
vations, we may commence with Abraham's sacrifice. Now 
Abraham was the father of the Jewish nation, and had been 
made the recipient and subject of most extraordinary revelations 
and promises, affecting immediately his own posterity, mediately 
" all nations of the earth." The occasion of these promises was 
the exhibition of Abraham's &ith in obeying the command of 
God to sacrifice to him his only son Isaac. The circumstances 
we need not here rehearse : we are concerned particularly, at 
present, with the new relation into which, from this epoch, 
Abraham and hia descendants were brought with Ood. On this 
point St. Paul speaks very explicitly in the Epistle to the Gala- 
tians. On his authority we consider the Abrahamic dispensa- 
tion as a dispensation of grace in a sense in which the same 
cannot be pr^icated of the Mosaic dispensation. Abraham was 
justified hj faith rather than by works: the Gospel was preached 
beforehand unto him (Gai. iii. 8), and under this dispensation, a 
Gospel dispensation we may call it, we must consider his de- 
scendants to have lived during the four hundred and thirty years 
that elapsed before the giving of the law. This change of rela- 
tion with God being introduced, we must necessarily suppose a 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] Correct Interpretation of Psalm si. 6. 253 

difference of import, if not of ceremonial, in all the sacrificial 
observances of Abraham's descendants. Snch sacrifices had ever 
been types of the one great sacrifice of Christ ; but a clearer 
revelation of the antitype must have invested the type with 
greater significance ; while the grand peculiarity of the Abra- 
hamic covenant, of the Glospel covenant, faith imputed for 
righteousness, must have affected the nature of sacrifice in the 
eyes of him who sacrificed, and, we may add, in the light in 
which it was beheld, and the grounds on which it was accepted 
by God. 

We now come to the Mosaic dispensation, of which, in its 
relation to the Abrahamie and Gospel covenant, we must be 
careful not to eapress an opinion beyond " what is written." 
On Apostolic authority, however, we have it, that the law is not 
of faith ; but the man that doeth them (sc. the works of the law) 
shall live in them. We must suppose, therefore, the principle 
of the Abrahamie covenant, justification by faith, to have been 
in abeyance under the Mosaic dispensation. In opposition to 
this, the principle of entire obedience was enforced in the Law 
and the Prophets as the principle of the Mosaic covenant. 
Under this change of relation with God, we may naturally look 
for a change of sacrificial observances ; and, accordingly, at this 
stage we find the introduction of a more elaborate and compli- 
cated system of sacrifice. The case was peculiar, and, we may 
say, complicated. The Israelites were the children of Abraham, 
and theirs, as such, were the promises ; and by them the con- 
tinual prefiguration of the sacrifice of the death of Christ, as the 
fiilfilment of these promises, was to be kept up. But, in the 
meantime, they were shut up under the law,' to which perfect 
obedience was required. Now if we were speaking of human 
institutions, we should say of this perfect obedience that it was 
theoretical only ; hut the use of the term in this case would be 
irreverent ; yet it is needless to remark that in no instance can 
the requirement ever have been satisfied. To be under the law 
was to be under the curse. What then was the provision for 
this exigency t We, who see all tliese things in the light of the 
Gi3spel, know that a remedy was devised. We see plainly the 
twofold efficacy of Chrisf s death. Wc know that the promises 
to Abraham and his seed were made on condition of faith in the 
sacrifice of Christ, prefigured by the sacrifice of Isaac, and by 
other subsequent sacrifices ; and yet that these promised results 
of Christ's death are not available to those who are under the 

' GbI. iii. 23, ini viiav iippovpoii/tda avyKfKKfuriiipoi tls Ti)t iiik^iiaiw irdmi' 
hroHoXv^e^rai. We shoald Connect miyiiiic. w'llb ftwi ii6iioy, in accordance with 

ver. 22. 



^byCOOl^lC 



254 On the TVue Beading and [January, 

law ; and that, therefore, the same sacrifice of Christ is, to meet 
this case, to be considered in another aspect, as redeeming from 
the curse of the law, in order that, to use the words of the 
Apostle (Heb. ix. 15), 0av6,TOV yevofiitmu eh airoXvTpairw t&v 
^i T§ TTfWTi; SioBi^ic^ ■jvapa^daeaiv, t^v eirofffeKlav 'Ka^axTtv 
oi Keic\'r}iii.vot rrfi alavlov leKijpovofila^. But these circomstances 
of the Israelites, as children of the promise, and yet "shut np" 
from the benefit thereof " under the law," and this twofold 
efficacy of the sacrifice of Christ: were, we might naturally ex- 
pect, to be represented and prefigured to the Jews under a cor- 
responding variety of typical forms. It is in connexion with 
these circumstances, therefore, that we are to consider the variety 
of sacrificial observances under the Mosaic dispensation. And we 
may here remark, that had sacrifice appeared in the complicated 
and elaborate form previously to the giving of the law, and after- 
wards assumed a more simple form, we might then have supposed 
the details of such elaboration and complication to have been 
purely arbitrary. But since we know that the multiplicity and 
variety of sacrificial observances was by Divine appointment, we 
cannot bnt suppose them adapted to the circumstances and re- 
quirements of the case. These, as we have seen, lead us to expect 
the appearance of piacular Bacritice (for with other sacrifices we 
are not here concerned) under a twofold form ; first for the conti- 
nual prefiguration of the sacrifice of the death of Christ, as of the 
fulfilment of the promise made to Abraham and his seed ; and, 
secondly, for the expiation of offences under tbe law, or rather 
for the prefiguration of the death of Christ, considered as re- 
deeming from the curse of the law, and thereby rendering av^- 
able the promised blessings of his sacrifice. Accordingly, we find 
the appointment, under the Mosaic dispensation, of piacular 
sacrifice, under the two forms of the chaltath and the asham. 

We come now to what has always been considered a point of 
great difficulty, the difi'erence between the chaltath and the agham. 
Wherein this consists, it has hitherto, according to Gesenius 
(Lex. Man., sub. v. d*w) been vainly inquired. A writer in the 
Biblioiheca Sacra, for January, 1859, whose paper is reprinted 
in The Journal of Sacred lAteralure, for April, 1859, says, — 

" Jewish writers as well as commentators of the Scripturea, both 
ancient and modern, have come to couclusions on tbia point very much at 
variance with each other. Abrabanel considers sins to have been acts 
committed in uuconsciousness of their illegality. Aben Ezra coneidera the 
difference to be, that the one class of acts was committed in iterance, 
tbe other, in forgetfulness of their illegality. Grotiua considers the differ- 
ence to be the same as that existing between positive and negative faults. 
Another writer conceives the difference to be, that sins were acta done in 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] Correct Interpretation of Psalm xl. 6. 255 

mere thoughtlessness i trespasses, acts done from design and irom motives 
positirely malicions. Other writers maintain that sins are acts committed 
against Jehovah alone, from which men receive no direct injury; tres- 
passes are acts tending directly to the injury of one's fellow- creatures. 
This latter opinion appears on the whole to be more worthy of adoption 
than any one of the others. Is not this difference indicated in the fact 
that, in the case of sin-offerings, the blood of the yictiin was sprinkled 
on the sides and on the horns of the altar ; that sin-offerings were ap- 
pointed for the whole congregation ; while trespass-offerings were confined 
to individuals, as most properly capable of that class of acts which we 
have just defined trespasses to be?" 

We give this extract to shew the difference of opinion 
amongst authorities on thia matter ; not that we think any one 
of the hypotheses to be altogether correct. Most of them are 
manifestly formed without any reference to the known fects of 
"the case : the last, which finds favour with the writer of the arti- 
cle we refer to, is founded upon a most palpable disregard of 
facts. The following particulars of the two kinds of piacular 
sacrifice we take from Arnold's Handbook of Hebrew Antiquities. 

"THB 8:N-OFFEEIKO. 

" The material only an animal, without unbloody offering (but in place 
of an animal the poor might present as a sin-offering aa ephah of meal. 
Lev. V, 11). The cases are: — (1) For the whole people, on new moons, 
pasaover, pentecost, feast of trumpets, feast of tabernacles (Numb, xsviii. 
16, 32, 30; sxis. 5, 16), and especially in the great day of atonement 
(Lev. ivi. 5, 9, 15 ; Numb. xxii. 11), a he-goat (' kid of the goats,' E.V.) 
(2) For the priests and Levites, nt their consecration (Exod. ixix. 14, 
36. Numb. viii. 8), a young bnllock. (3) For the high-priest on the 
great day of atonement (Lev. xvi. 3, 6, II), a young bullock. (4) For 
the purification of women after childbirth (Lev. xii. 6, 8), a young pigeon 
or turtle-dove. (5) In the cleansing of a leper, or of a leprous house 
(Lev. xiv. 19, 22, 49), a yearling ewe, (for the poor, a bird for the leper, 
two for the house), (6) Cleansing after an issue (Lev. xv. 14., 15, 29), a 
bird. (7) For a Nazarite, when his vow was suspended by defilement, in 
consequence of a sudden death taking place near him (Numb. vi. 10), or 
at the termination of his vow (iftsrf., 14), a bird. (8) When some prohi- 
bition has been inadvertently transgressed by the whole congregation, or by 
the anointed priests, the sacrifice was a young bullock ; in the case of a 
prince, a he-goat ; of a common man, a yearling ewe or kid (Lev. iv. 1 — 
13 ; comp. Numb. xv. 24 ; 2 Chron. xxix. 21). 

"THE TRBSPASa-OFFEKlNG. 

" Between the atiham or ' trespass-offering,' and chatlalh or ' sin-offer- 
ing,' the difference consists chiefly in thia, that the asham (properly 
'debt ') is regarded in the light of damages, or reparation for a wrong 
done to the Lord. The cases in which a trespass-offering is prescribed 
are the following: — (1) When a person has inadvertently appropriated or 
made away with anything consecrated to the Lord (Lev. v. 15, 16). (2) 



.byCOOl^lC 



256 On the Tnte Reading and [Janaary^ 

Or unknowingly has violated any prohibition of the Lord (iHd., 17, 18)-' 
(S) Or has denied either a trust, or a damage and loaa sustained in the 
thing intrusted ; or, having found aome lost article of property, denies 
having found it ; or swears falsely in any such matter {^d., tI. 3). Also 
(4) for defiling a betrothed handmaid, not redeemed nor set free (JJiid., 
zix. 20) i and (5) For the leper when he is cleansed, and for the Nazahte, 
when be baa been defiled by contact with a dead body (Nnmb. vi. 13). 
In the cases, No. 1 — 4, the offering is a ram ; in No. 5, a lamb ; and for 
these no substitution (of birds or meal) ia allowed as in tbe sin-offering." 

This question of the difference between the chattath and the 
ashatn is certainly not without its difficulties, and these we do 
not profesB to solve. But, as sufficient for our purpose, we call 
attention to one obvious point of difference, in the fact that the 
chattalh was prescribed chiefly for the whole people on stated 
occasions ; the asham exclusively for individual oflences by indi-. 
viduals. If we suppose the case of a man perfectly obedient to 
the law of Moses; in such a case he would notwithstanding 
participate in the offering of the chattath ; but with the aaham 
he would have nothing whatever to do. This being the case, 
and in consideration of the distinction that, as we have seen, 
was to be expected & priori in the piacular sacrifices of the Jews 
under the law, we are justified, we think, in considering the 
chattath to be coutinued from Abraham's sacrifice, a prefigura- 
tion of the sacrifice of Christ as the fulfilment of the promise 
made to Abraham, as the redemption of "all nations of the 
earth" from the general consequences of Adam's transgression; 
while, on the other hand, we take the asham to be specially the 
expiation of offences against the law, a substitute for obedience, 
typical of the sacrifice of Christ as redeeming from the curse of 
the law. This view is also favoured by the words rwEfi and crtw, 
used to designate these piacular sacrifices; the root ««n having a 
far more general and extensive signification than a^. With 
regard to what is said in the above extract of cn^, signifying 
" debt" we do not know how this meaning is obtained. Accord- 
ing to G^eseniu8 the primary idea is to be sought in that of neg~ 
ligence, especially in going ; and in confirmation of this he ad- 
duces the Arabic J I a sIow>paced camel, faltering and weary. 
But this appears far fetched. The root is certainly connected 
with DD^, and we may probably attribute to it some such positive 
idea as destruction, devastation, damage. If when the meaning 
of "debt" is attributed to the word it is only meant that in its 
technical use {not in its primary signification), it implies obliga- 
tion, this is certainly true; and this idea will still further con- 
nect the crj>e with the law rather than with the previous dispen- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] Correct Interpretation of Psalm x\. 6. 257 

satiou of grace, the Abraliaiiiic covenant. The eitaation of an 
offender against the law was one of obligation and debt, deliver- 
ance from which was to be effected by ransom, that ransom being 
the D^. This is the idea of Ps. xxxiv. 23 : — ifrj ttm, tf» rtrr rrts 
\i OTfi n \ ' a itftitr, according to the LXX., \vTpa>a-ercu icvpLo<i ■^v)(A^ 
ZovXav avTov, KaX ov ftj] ■jrXtjfifieX'^irova't, wavre^ at eX/Tri^ovrei 
CTT avTov. The verb occurs also in the preceding verse. He 
that hates the righteous is Ivo^o? rov vofwv : be whom God re- 
deems is no longer evoxo'i- The LXX. use the same word trXr)/*- 
fieX'^aavai in both places. Of this word TrTurj/i/ieXeia (by which 
the LXX. render the Hebrew n^), as compared with ofiapria, 
the Septuagiut equivalent of msrj, the same remark may be made 
as of the two Hebrew words ; the latter having a far more widely 
extended use and general signification than the former; the 
former, moreover, being expressive of a more positive idea than 
the latter. The word irXrjfifieXeia (properly denoting musical 
discord, which in the highest degree may be produced by a single 
jarring note), not inaptly expresses the total moral derangement 
which, according to the strict terms of the Mosaic covenant, was 
the result of a single act of disobedience. In speaking of Dtfw 
and vXTjfifieXeia as more expressive of positive ideas than tvm 
and d/iaprUi,, we mention this as matter of fact, not particularly 
bearing upon our argument; since, of course, an offence against 
the law may aa well have been a sin of omission as of com- 
mission; although, indeed, a sin of omission in respect of a 
definite and positive law has itself somewhat of a positive 
character. 

From this brief notice of the Levitical sacrifices we advance 
to a consideration of the auti -sacrificial passages before-men- 
tioned. Conspicuous amongst these is Jer. vii. 22, 33, " I apake 
not unto your fathers, nor commanded them in the day that I 
brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning burnt-offer- 
ings or sacrifices. But this thing I commanded them, saying. 
Obey my voice, and I will be your God, and ye shall be my 
people; and walk ye in all the ways that I have commanded 
you, that it may be well unto you." This is certainly a remark- 
able passage. It can only mean, we think, that the appoint- 
ment of sacrifice was not made on the occasion of the exodus of 
the Israelites. Then it must have been either before or after. 
On this point we find the following observations in one of the 
Festal Letters of St. Athanasins, translated from the Syriac in 
the Library of the Fathers, by the Editor of this Journal : — 

" Tfcither at the beginning, when God brought the people out of 
Egypt, did he command them concerning sacrifices or nhole burat-offer- 
ings, nor even till the; came to Sinai. For Ood is not as man, that he 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



258 On the Tme Reading and [January, 

should have a care of these things beforehand; but his comniandineDt 
was given that they might know him who is truly God, and also his 
Word ; and might disregard those which are falsely called gods, which 
exist not, but only attain to the outward show. Thus he would be known 
to them by those (signs) whereby he brought them ont of the land of 
Egypt, causing them to pass through the £ed Sea. But when they would 
serve Baal, and dared to offer sacrifices to those that have no existence, 
and forgot the miracles which were wrought in their behalf in Egypt, and 
thought of returning thither again; then, indeed, ^fter the law, a com- 
mandment also was given to serve as a law concerning sacrifices; so that 
with their mind, which at one time bad meditated on those (gods) which 
did not exist, they might turn to him who is truly God, and learn, not in 
the first place to sacrifice, but to turn away their faces from idols, and 
give heed to what God commanded." — Ep. six. 

This suppOBition, however, is scarcely tenable. God puts 
this into the mouth of Moses as the object of the proposed 
exodus, that the children of Israel should sacrifice to the Lord 
their God (Ex. iii. 18). We therefore hold that the sacrifice 
referred to is the sacrifice of the Abrahamic covenant, which 
vas not, in principle, part of the Mosaic dispensation, though 
continued in its ritual. Such sacrifice is the emblem of the 
dispensation of grace, the law of faith. It is here abnegated so 
far as the Mosaic dispensation is concerned ; and the peculiarity 
of that dispensation, the law of works, ia promulgated. So 
that this passage from Jeremiah is, in efiect, equivalent to the 
statement of St. Paul iu Gal. iii. 12, already quoted, "The law 
is not of faith ; but the man that doeth the works of the law 
shall live in them." The sacrifices mentioned in this place are 
nail Tip. This expression is intended to include all animal sacri- 
fice, both whole burnt-offerings and those in which the whole of 
the victim was not consumed. After the giving of the law, tc^, 
when antithetical to r#s, comprised the rwErt and the d^. But 
before the giving of the law, the period to which this passage 
refers, the niijtf had not been instituted, and cannot, therefore, 
be thought to be implied in this place. 

However, such passages speak of sacrifices generally, and 
intimate that the principle of sacrifice itself is incompatible with 
the terms of the Mosaic covenant, which required perfect obe- 
dience. Yet we know that a sacrifice was appointed typical of 
the only complete satisfaction of this requirement, the sacrifice 
of Christ. This sacrifice, therefore, viz. the tMjw, is not included 
in the disallowed sacrifices ; but must be implied iu the require- 
ment of obedience. Thus we account for the fact of the n^ and 
TQ} occurring together in several instances of the disallowance of 
sacrifices. Thus in Ps. 1. 8, etc., "I will not reprove thee for 
thy sacrifices or thy bumt-ofierings, to have been continually 



.byCOOl^lc 



I860.] Correct Interpretation ef Paalm xl. 6. 259 

before me." The sacrifices are mentioned generally; neither 
would it have been in accordance witli the principles of the law 
to have made special exception of the aaham as of an allowed 
sacrifice ; even although, aa we have seen, its allowance is im- 
plied. It is certain that the d^m is never mentiooed among the 
disallowed sacrifices. 

In the following Psalm, too, we have the same combination 
of T^ and nji, in a passage strongly anti-sacrificial. " Thou de- 
sirest not sacrifice, else would I give it thee ; thou deUghtest 
not in burnt-offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit ; 
a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise." 
In this place, also, though not so obviously aa in others, obedience 
is set up in opposition to sacrifice. For although in the vr^ nn 
and the risifl -ai[)p :^ the most prominent part to our observation is 
the pain of the sufferer, yet it cannot be doubted that in the 
sight of God it is the breaking of the adverse will, the submission 
and dutiful obedience, imphed in these expressions, which is 



To the same effect are Isa. i. II — 17, and Ixvi. 3 — 4. Of 
the latter passage we may make the same remark as of Fs. li. 
16, 17. Where God says. "To this man will I look, even to 
bim that is poor and of a contrite spirit," these expressions are 
immediately explained by that which follows, " and that trem- 
bletb at my word." The word translated "poor" is ^, eubmt*- 
gus : not ]V3^, egens. So that here, also, obedience is set in oppo- 
sition to sacrifice. 

In Jer. vi. 19, 20, we have the following. " Hear, earth : 
Behold I will bring evil upon this people, even the firuit of their 
thoughts, because they have not hearkened unto my words, nor 
to my law, but rejected it. To what purpose cometh there to 
me incense from Sheba, and the sweet cane from a far country? 
Your burnt-offerings are not acceptable, nor your sacrifices sweet 
unto roe." 

These examples will suffice for our purpose. How then are 
they to be understood ? They are commonly, we think, inter- 
preted too rigorously, as of the absolute abolition of the principle 
of sacrifice ; whereas of this it may most certainly be said, that 
" Christ came not to destroy but to fulfil." But even on the 
supposition that it was to be abolished when it had served its 
purpose ; how can we account for God's abrogation of his own 
institution before that end had been accomplished ? Some, in> 
deed, go so far as to deny the divine institution of sacrifice ori- 
ginally, and admit only a sort of adaptation of it by God, as of 
a practice inherent in the Jewish nature, which might be turned 
to good account; such temporary adaptation, with a view to 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



260 On the TYue Reading and [January, 

ultimate abolition, being, we presume, somewhat similar to the 
permission given to our newly-converted Saxon forefathers, by 
Pope Gregory the Great, to continue certain popular sacrificial 
cuatomS] after that their spirit and principle had, of course, been 
renounced. But without further reference to extreme opinions, 
we extract the following passage from the Article on Offerings 
in Kitto's Biblical Cyclopedia, as an example of the views 
usually taken of the sutgect by sober-minded critics : — 

"Under the load and the multiplicity of outward oblations, the He- 
brews forgot the substance, lost the thought ia the symbol, the thing 
signified in the sign ; and failing in those devotional sentiments and that 
practical obedience which ofieringa were intended to prefigure and culti- 
vate, sank into the practice of mere dead worVs. Hereupon began the 
prophets to ntter their admonitory lessons, to which the world is indebted 
for so many graphic descriptions of the real nature of religion, and the 
only true warship of Almighty God (Isa. i. 11; Jer. vi. 20, vii. SI, sq. ; 
Hos. vi, 6; Amos v, 22; mcab vi. 6, sq. ; comp. Pa. il. 6, U. 17, aq.; 
Frov. xxi. 3). Thus the failures of one church paved the way for the 
higher privileges of another, and the law proved a schoolmaster to bring 
us to the Christ (Matt. v. 23 ; Gal. iii. 24). Even before the advent of 
our Lord, pious and reflecting men, like the Essenes, discovered the 
lamentable abuse of the national ritual, and were led to abstain altogether 
from the customary forma of a mere outward worship (Joseph. Antiq., 
xviii. 1, 6). The fiftieth Psalm must have had great influence in prepar- 
ing the minds of thinking men for a pure and spiritual form of worship, 
the rather because some of its principles strike at the very root of all 
offerings of a mere outward kind." 

Such is the ordinary acceptation of the general tenor of such 
passages; they are thought to indicate a sort of twilight pre- 
ceding the full dawn of Christian liberty. We have ventured 
to express a different opinion ; and we believe that in them is 
enunciated and enforced the rigorous principle of the law of 
works, in distinction irom the dispensation of grace : that the 
law is to be observed inviolate : that in obedience is life ; in dis- 
obedience death. The abnegation of sacrifice, as of the emblems 
of the covenant of grace, is a reminder to the Jews of their 
being under the covenant of works. Yet we do not deny that 
there is implied in these passages a reference to the end of the 
law and to the Gospel dispensation. As God's mercy had pro- 
vided a sacrifice for the expiation even of offences against the 
law; as he knew man's inability to satisfy its requirements; we 
must suppose, in these enunciations of the strict principles of 
the law, an implied reference to Him who alone could fulfil them ; 
and, from what we have already seen, we must expect this refer- 
ence to Mm as the antitype of the d^);. 

Understanding thus the tenor of such passages generally, 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] Correct Interpretation <^ Psalm xl. 6. 261 

ve at length come to consider that which forms our special sub- 
ject, Ps. si. 6, 7. It stands thus in the Hebrew : — 

pi^pn W7 nnjnn rat 

; F}b^ ***? HNarp rfyv " 

: -^Sy nnro inp-nVaipa 

In this passage we find most prominent all the characteristics 
of the class we have been considcrijig. There is, first, the rejec- 
tion of sacrifice, and the setting up of obedience to the law as 
the condition of the covenant. There is also direct mention of 
Him who was to satisfy the requirements of the law; and this, . 
as we have seen, points to Him in his character as the antitype 
of the cj^. But besides what this passage has in common with 
others of the class, we find in it special mention of the disallowed 
sacrifices j and it certainly must be considered a significant fact, 
that these form the complete list of the Levitical sacrifices, with 
ike single exception of the ap^. The terms are arranged in logical 
sequence ; they include all the sacrifices iu use among the Jews, 
with the remarkable exception of one of the two most important, 
the piacular sacrifices. In consideration of these circumstances 
we cannot consider the omission accidental ; nor, from what we 
have already arrived at, can we be sorprised at the phenomenon : 
we do not expect the ojiij in the same category with the other 
sacrifices ; but rather we look for it to be placed, by implication, 
in some sort of contrast with them. 

But, further, we find in the midst of the enumeration of the 
disallowed sacrifices an adTcraative clause, the subject of which 
is obviously set in contrast with, or opposition to, those sacri- 
fices. This clause is, as it now stands, nonsensical ; or at least 
wc may venture to say, the sense of it has not yet been satisfac- 
torily discovered. The reading of this clause in the time of the 
Greek translators, and in St. Paul's time, was very different, 
though still obviously adversative to the rest of the sentence. 
It is sufficiently plain, as we have seen, that the subject of it, as 
it stood at that time, and according to the reading sanctioned 
by their authority, was the victim 0/ a piacular sacrifice. We 
conclude, therefore, in view of all these circumstances, that 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



262 Ob the Thie Reading and [Jannaiy, 

where we now read dim they read dA*. The substitntioa of one 
word for another ib an easy matter, aa far as the letters are con- 
cerned, for the whole difference between the two words lies in a 
single small stroke of the pen, a stroke connecting the lower 
parts of the letters 11, and thus converting them into t6. As far 
as the leTUe is concerned, we have shewn, we think satisfactorily, 
the propriety of the substitution. 

Bat is the future Messiah eves spoken of in this character of 
the opii? To this we reply that the mode and nature and im- 
port of Christ's sufferings were prefigured by means of types 
rather than foretold by direct prophecy. Yet to this general 
rule there is one important exception. In the fifty-third chapter 
of Isaiah, that most direct and express prophecy of the sacrifice 
of Christ, and of its character and import, that sacrifice is 
spoken of in its character aa, and under the express name of, 
the a^. And it is particularly to be observed, that it is spoken 
of in this character and by this name, when considered as a 
satisfaction of God's requirement of obedience, as a iulfilment 
of his will. The will of God, f^ yS?, is fulfilled by Christ's 
making his life an oj^. 

There is a remarkable parallelism between this passage in 
Fs. %]. and Is. liii. This we may here examine, in carrying out 
our purpose of fiunishing an explanation of the former passage. 
We observe, then, in this Fsalm, a reference to the recorded 
account of David's past experience; in which record, it is asserted 
of him that he should do the will of God. Now it is obvious 
enough to find the circumstances referred to in the deposition of 
Saul, and in the calling of David to reign in his stead. It is as- 
serted in most express terms that the removal of Saul waa in con- 
sequence of disobedience; and it is asserted of David that he should 
perform all the will of God [irov^aet wdvra rh Ge^-^/uiTii fuw, 
Acts xiii. 22). This is a quotation from no one place of the Old 
Testament, but it is an inference from several passages, and ex- 
presses the tenor of Fs. Ixxxix. In that Fsalm particular men- 
tion is made of the continuance of the seed and the prolongation 
of the days of David. We may observe, too, that in this pas- 
sage of the Acts, St. Paul connects bis assertion of David's 
being called to do God's will, with a notice of Christ being bom 
of his seed. We therefore refer these words of Fs, xl. 6—8, to 
the circumstances of Saul's deposition for disobedience, and the 
call of David to the throne as one who should perform aU the 
will of God J and when David says, " Sacrifice and offering thou 
didst not desire ; . ■ . burnt-offering and sin-offering hast thou 
not required; then said I, Lo, I come to do thy will, O my Ood," 
we cannot but think that allusion was intended to that solemn 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] Cwreet Interpretation of Psalm xl. 6. 363 

rebuke of Saul by Samuel (1 Sam. iv. 22), " Hath the Lord as 
great delight in burnt-offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the 
voice of the Lord ? Behold, to obey ia better than sacrifice, and 
to hearken than the fat of rams." 

With regard to Is. liii., it is an old opinion, and one which 
we see no reason to dispute, that the prospective or prophetical 
reference of this passage ia conveyed by retrospective reference 
to Isaac, that most eminent type of our Lord, We have already 
had occasion to mention Abraham's sacrifice, as the inauguration 
of the dispensation of grace ; and now, in view of the foregoing 
considerations, we may further examine the circumstances con- 
nected with it. In the first place, then, we find Abraham's 
acceptance with God is represented in the New Testament under 
a twofold aspect ; as the result of his faith, and as the result of 
hia obedience. We do not intend to involve ourselves in theolo- 
gical speculations on this difference of representation; but we 
call attention to the correspondence in the twofold nature of 
Abraham's sacrifice. Abraham is said to have sacrificed hia son; 
yet we know Isaac was not sacrificed, but that a substitute was 
provided by God. Yet Isaac was, as we have said, a moat eminent 
type of Christ. Must we not also suppose the substituted ram, 
God's substitute for Abraham's obedience, to have been typical of 
Him ? If so, we must consider this sacrifice of the ram to have 
been of the same import as that which was afterwards known as 
the DtiH; and in making this observation, we also mention, though 
without wishing to lay much stress upon the remark, that in all 
the cases above-mentioned, for which the d^ was prescribed in 
the Levitical ordinances, the victim was a ram. In the case of 
the cleansing of a leper, mentioned in the above extract from 
Arnold's Hebrew Antiquities, the victim is said to be a lamb. 
This is no exception ; for it was to be a Ae lamb. 

Now we find that God tffl/w/es Me tieetf to Abraham; although, 
strictly considered, the deed had not been performed by him. 
The obedience was substituted: the /oiM was Abraham's: the 
" righteouanest" was God's. Let us now consider the reward of 
this imputed righteomness, the result of the sacrifice of the ram 
as the Dtf^j. God saya to Abraham (Gen. xxii, 16 — 18), "Be- 
cause thou hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, 
thine only son ; that in blessing I will bless thee, and in multi- 
plying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven, and as 
the sand which is upon the sea-shore ; and thy seed shall pos- 
sess the gate of his enemies ; and in thy seed shall all the nations 
of the earth be blessed, because thou hast obeyed my voice." 
Compare with this the reference of Isaiah (liii. 10), where God'» 
witl is said to be accomplished by Christ's making his life an 



.byCOOl^lC 



264 On the Tme Beading and [Jainiar]', 

Mm, and the result is stated as the eonimuance of seed and the 
prolongation of days,' 

Thus, then, we may perceive these points of resemblance 
between the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah and the passive in 
Pb. xl. In Jjoth there is prophetical reference to the Messiah 
^yy retrospective reference to eminent types, those types being 
also pre-eminent progenitors (kqtA udpKa) of the Messiah. Far- 
ther, whatever may have been the full significance of the type, 
in each case, in its relation to the Antitype, in each of these 
passages the special point of consideration in the type is obe- 
dienci to the will of God, Thus, too, the prophetical reference 
in each case is to the special point, in the Antitype, of the satis- 
faction of God's requirement of obedience by the Messiah, that 
is to Christ* 8 making himself the expiation of disobedience, our 
substituted obedience, the true niM. In the one case the aet* is 
expressly mentioned : we need not, therefore, be surprized on 
finding it in the other, as we believe we have found it. 

Here, then, our proposed task is finished. Having, as we 
think, ascertained, with a considerable d^ree of certainty, the 
correct reading of the Hebrew, the Greek rendering is, indeed, 
still left unaccounted for. Yet if our amendment of the Helwew 
text will stand, it is a considerable step towards an explanation 
of the discrepancy. And certainly this discrepancy is greatly 
diminished by the adoption of our proposed amendment. There 
is at first sight some sort of connexion between d^ (which by the 
way means a victim of a sacrifice for transgressions, as well as 
both the act of transgression and the sacrifice) and ff&fia. We 
would here call attention to a remarkable use of the word a^&fta 
in Rom. vii. 4. St. Paul has been reminding the Jews who be- 
lieved in Christ of their being no longer under the law but 
under grace (vi. 14). Now the dispensation of grace was anterior 
to the law ; and the former was by the grace of God in Christ. 
St. Paul, then, is speaking of their being delivered from the 
curse of the law and thus brought under the dispensation of 
grace. Now here are two effects of the death of Christ men- 
tioned ; first, the establishment of the dispensation of grace, and 
then the deliverance from the curse of the law. They are mani- 
festly two different things, as has already been pointed outj and 
the distinction is observed here by St. Paul. Knowing this it is 

' mj; Tpw; »Ti niv. The LXX. repder S^trai cripiia /uuipSBiov (Valg., 
videiit lemea lengamtm). Tbey probttblj read Tpj), for T|'^*, the Chaldee fbrm of 
the participle, found in Ezra it. U. They thus took Q^ Tp^, ;=ii>itjnn>iiM, in 
connexion with s-n; tnd this leema preferable. The Sfriac has |.^1 (Vm-I? 



.byCOOl^lc 



I860.] Correct Interpretation of Psalm xl. 6. 265 

interesting to observe the terms in which he speaks of their 
being delivered from the curse of the law. He says by their 
sins they had deserved death ; that is, by reason of their trans- 
gressions against the law. But Christ had suffered death for 
them : he had become their d;^, and by his death they were 
reckoned to have died, St. Paul says, " EOavara^rfre t^ I'o/ip 
Sia roO ffw/xdTOT Tot) XpioTov." Why Bi^ rov trm/dMTiK and not 
simply Sik tov Bavdrov ? The expression is certainly remarkable; 
and considering the distinction observed by St. Paul between 
the nxBTi and the a^tt in the sacrifice of Christ, and that it is as 
the D^ he is here speaking of it, we cannot but compare his use of 
the word aStfjM with its use in the Septaagint Version of Ps. xl. 6. 

It is remarkable that the LXX. have not translated the word 
Of» in Isa. liii. 10, by ir\7}fifie\ela, as usual, but by irepia/iapTia, 
their usual rendering of nmn. We may, therefore, look for 
mention of the opj in the New Testament under this name, or 
that which seems to have been equivalent to it, afiapTia. The 
latter we find in 2 Cor. v. 21, — tov fiij ypoma afiapriav imip f)fuov 
dpaprlav ewoiTja-ei/, Xva ^p-eK ywmp^Ba Succuoervin} Seov kv avriS. 
The allusion to Isa. hii. seems obvious, and is indicated by the 
references in the margins of our Bibles. This being the case, 
the ap.aprla is the djm, and the effect of Christ's offering himself 
as the D^ is here said to be that his righteousness, or obedience, 
is imputed to us;'' his obedience substituted for ours; which is 
altogether consonant with what we have already seen of the oyi;. 
Similarly, in Rom. v. 19, this imputation of righteousness is 
said to be effected by the obedience of Christ. We may also 
compare the expression, top pt] yvovra a/iapTiav with a/xapriav 
oiiK Irfwv el pi} Sta v6/iov, in Rom. vii. 7, and with Bi^ vopov 
eTrlrfvoMTtt afLoprlai iu Kom. iii. 20. Th yivoxTKeiv apxtprlav, 
therefore, is not to have committed sin simply, but specially to 
have transgressed the /bw. The full meaning, then, of 2 Cor. v. 
21, we take to be, that Christ was a meet trespass -offering, i. e., 
expiation of disobedience, or substitute for our perfect obedience 
to the law, inasmuch as he had not trausgressed the law. 

God's requirement of perfect obedience could never have 
been performed by man only ; it was, to use the words of St. 
Paul (Rom. viii. 3), to oZuvarov tov vop^v. But that which was 
impossible with men was possible with God, and, as we are here 
informed, was accomplished by God's sending his Son iu the 
likeness of sinful flesh and as a trespass-offering {^epiaftaprla 



u by Gorf."--Biirton, Grtei Tetl., he. c 
VOL. X. — Ni 



D,g,l,..cbyGOO^^IC 



266 Tlie Origin and History of [January, 

It may be thought incnmbeiit upon \m, if we aabatitnte of^ 
for inw, to discover also a solntitute for the word ^. Certainly 
this can hardly atand aa it is. We might enggeat ]j:i^ as a word 
of common me in reference to the slaying of victims for sacri- 
fice; although this has, of course, no sanction from the render- 
ing of the LXX. The word i^, in the sense of preparing, pro- 
viding, and in connexion with the cognate Arabic A^, causing 
to exist, may also be suggested ; and in fact this very form of 
the verb is rendered iearr}pT(tro> by the LXX. in Pb. Ixviii. 10. 
But with these suggestions we must leave the subject to the con- 
sideration of our learned readers, 

W. B. B. 



THE OBIOIN AND HISTORY OF THE SACKED SLATES OF 

I8KAEL IN HI TITIA , UOUNT SSTB, AND THE 

HITITE TETRAFOLIS. 

Chaf. I. — 7%e Hivitet of Lebanon, and the colony conducted by 

Se'yr to the south of Canaan. 
With the name of the Oibeonites, the servants of the sanctuary, 
the sacred slaves of Israel, the hewers of wood and drawers of 
water for the tabernacle of the congregation, every one is fami- 
liar; but the history and real position of these sacred serfs baa 
never yet {aa far as we know) been fuUy and satisfactorily ex- 
plained. No one, so we believe, has ever yet attempted to trace 
their early revolutions to any period preceding the conquest of 
Canaan by Joshua; but they appear easily traceable for many 
centuries anterior to this important epoch. 

That part of Lebanon and Antilebanon, with the intervening 
valley, which lies to the south of a line drawn from the city, 
which the Hebrews called Grebal and the Greeks Byblus, by 
Aphek, or Aphaka (the modern Afka), over the summit of 
Mount Lebanon, through the vale of Coelo-Syria, and again, 
over the ridges of Antilebanon, was, in ancient times, inhabited 
by the Hivites." 

° The bouadariea, north uni aoatli, of tlie Hivite territorieB, are described 
In Jndges iii, 3, " Tbe Hititee that dwelt !□ Mount Lebanon from Mount Baa]- 
HenDOQ to the Le-bo Chftraath" (the entering in of Hamath). Mount Baat- 
HermoD was the iouthern eitremity of Mount Hermon, the modem Jebel-ash- 
sheikh. haDging over the city of Baal-Oad, which ia said (Josh. xL 17), to be 
" in the Bik'athlial-Leb£non (or the valley of Lebanon), under Moant Hermon." 
The term " Bik'ath hal-LebSnon," is generally used to describe the modern El 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] the Sacred Slaves of Israel. 267 

There is great reason to believe that the modem Dmaea, re- 
specting whose origin bo many theories have been suggested, are 
the deaceodants of thw ancient Canaanite nation,* iSiere appear 
many points of resemblance in character between them, for the 
Hivites seem to have been among the proudest and most martial 
of the Canaanite nations. 

The name of this people signifies Serpents in. the ancient 
language of their country," a dialect of Aramean, making a 

Bcka'a, pfirt of the valley of CceloByria. But, in the Terse jost cited, it seemB 
applied to what is elsewhere caUed the Und of Mitepoh (the modem Wady el- 
Teyni). See Joah. xi. 3. 

Baal-Gad aeoma t<i have been that city which the Macedoniana called Paneas, 
and which the Bomana afterwards stylJed Ctesarea Philippi. This city never 
lost, among the Syrians themselves, its original name of Baal Gad. When the 
Mohammedans conquered Syria, they reatorod the old name, in the corrupt form 
of Belina. Benjamin of Tndola (aboat the close of the twelfth, or the early 

Sirt of the thirteenth century), mentions this city, which he confounda with 
an, as follows; "I came to Belinos, known formerly by the name of Dan. 
Near this city the Jordan baa ita source from a cavern." William of Tyre, in 
hia Hiatora of the Cruaades (Gesta Dei per Francos, p. S77), also confounds 
Paneas with Dan, " Ista est Faneaa, qnte vnlgari appetlatione Belinas dicitur, 
olim ante introitum filiorum Israel in Terrant Promlaaionia, dicta X«sen: quam 

Sstea filii Dan acceperunt in eortem (tie), et vocavenmt I«sen Dan." 80 Jamea 
Vitry, Bishop of Acre (G«ata Dei, p. 1070), "Paneas vulgari idiomate Belinas 
ntlncupatnr." And Barthelemy do Salignac, who travelled in 1522, relates 
that in bis time it was called Velena. 

That Baal-Gad was the southern limit of Hivitia, is proved {torn Josh. xiii. 
5, where (among tbe countries not conquered by the laraelitea, but included 
within their boundary), are mentioned, "All tbe land of the GibHtes" (the 
people of Gebal or Byblua), " and all Lebanon to the east " (of Qebat), " trom 
Itaal-Gad nnder Mount Eermon, unto tbe Le-bo Chamath." In Joah. m. 16, 17, 
we find that Joaboa conquered all the country &om the uorthem limits of Mount 
Se'yr to Baal-Gad under Mount Hermon. 

Joshna, therefore, extended his conqueats northward aa far as Baal-Gad, or 
Paneas, but left unconquered all Hivitia (in Lebanon, Antilebanon, and Ckelo- 
Byria), from Baat-Gad, on its southern extremity, as far as the Le-bo Cfaamath, 
its extreme northern limit. 

It is clear, therefore, that the Le-bo Chamath was on the northern border of 
Hivitia, for as this c<iuntry lay between Moimt Baal-Hermon ^d Baal-Gad at 
its foot), and tbe Le-bo Chamath, when it is once settled that Baal-Gad was its 
aouthem limit, it follows of necessity that the Le-bo Chamath was the northern. 

The Le-bo Cbamatb was also on the northern border of Israel. The whole 
of Uivitia, therefore, was part of the Promised Land; but the Israelites only 
poaaessed these northern territories for a very short period, as their usual north- 
ern boundary was Dan, which was only a few miles distant from Baal-Gad. 

As Mitzpeh may be clearly identified with the Wgdy el Teym, it is plain 
that the Hivites were settled in Antilebanon. and the probability appears very 
great that the famous tings of Cbatzor, or Hazor (on the slope of Hermon, im- 
mediately north of Baal-Gad), were of the Hivite race. 

' Tbe Druses possess nearly the same country as the ancient Hivites, and, 
amidst all the clanges which have taien place in Syria, nothing is more pro- 
bable than that these mountwneers, nndislnrbed by all the revolutions of the 
lowlands, may have ret^ned their original seats, from within a few centniies 
after the deluge to the present time. 

' '.^, in Hebrew, a Hivite (or, taken oollectively, the UinCea), signifies, in 
Chaldee, "a Serpent." 

t2 



.byCOOl^lC 



268 The Origin and Htatary of [Jannary, 

<doae approach to the Arabic;^ and they are supposed to have 
derived this singular natioDal appellatioD, like the Periazites, 
Eenizzites, and other Canaatiite septs, &om their mode of life 
and the habitations in which they dwelt. They were originally 
a Troglodytic race, inhabiting, like serpents, the caves of the 
mountains J bnt they seem quickly to have risen above this bar- 
bariamj to have founded cities in the fertile vale of Ccelo-Syria, 
and to have planted a colony on the shore of the Mediterranean, 
whose metropolis was the famous Gebal, the city of the moun- 
taineers.' Hence they ventured upon the Great Sea, not merely 
as a commercial people, but as a oation of conquerors. 

The most famous of the Hivite kings of Grcbal was Kinura, 
or the Harper, the KiwpcK of the Greeks,-^ who was master of 

' That the kngaagB of the Hivitee had an affinity v 
inferred from the fact that the Hivite DameB may oftei 
Arabic roots. It will be sufficient to adduce three a ' 
'n Arabic "the moontainB, 



of Gebal also given to Mount Se'yr [a country colonized by the Hivites), which 
the Qreeka coirapted into Oebalene or GobolitiB. 2. No et^molo^ of Mount 
Hor can be traced to any other of the Semitic dialects, which euita ho well *• 

that from the Arabia ,^. 3. In the name "MisrepothMayim" (mentioned Job. 

xi. 8, as lying to the north of Sidon), all the Biblical critics whose works we havo 
Been (including Gesenins), derive the word "Misrepoth" from the Hebrew 
Saraph, " he burnt." It is certain, however, that the proper derivation ia from 

the Arabic i__j_j fexundatioj, and this may satisfy us that Misrepoth Mayim 
was on the south bank of the river Tamyraa {about twelve miles north of Kdon), 
which in subject to very sadden and dangerons floodB, at which times it ie itn- 
pasaable. It was one of these floods which stopped the farther pursait of the 
Israehtes after the Western fugitives of the forces of the Canaonite confedeiates 
nnder Jnbin. 

' The circumstances which lead to the presumption that Oebal was a Hivite 
colony, are these; 1. The word "Gebal" is evidently an elliptical term for "the 
city of the people of the mountains ;" or " the city of the mountaineers." It Ib 
absurd to derive it (as some writers have done), from the Hebrew "gebQl," a 
border, for it never formed the border, either of any diatriot or any people. 2. 
The kings of Gebal were alio the sovereigns of Aphaka, on the summit of 
Lebanon ; aow it is much more natural to suppoHo that the coast, in the vicinity 
of Gebal, was colonized by the mountain eers, than that these hardy mountain- 
eers (inhabiting a country almost unconquerable if well defended), should have 
been reduced to vassalage by the effeminate inhabitants of the coast. 3. There 



is an old tradition that Oebail was a Hivite city, mentioned by James de Vitr^ 
(Qesta Dei, p. 1072). This may be cited in corroboration of the preceding arga> 
ments, thoueh, taken separately, one conld not attach to it much importance. 



" Post banc [Sareptam] sutem sequuntur allm civitates maritime, primo Sydcoi 

t Sidon] postea Berithum [BervtusJ, deinde Bibljum [Byblua], qure vnlgariter 
lOdie Gibeleth [Jebeil] appellatur, in Pbtenicite provincia supra littus maris 
constituta ; quondam Evtea dicta, eo qaod Evjbus, ut dicitur, seitua filiorum 
Chanaan ipsam fundaverit." The sixth of the Bons of Canaan was the ancestor 
of the Hivites, and this tradition quoted by the Biehop of Acre, merely means 
that Oebal was founded by a colony of Hivites from the mountains. 

^ The name of Kinura ii derived from the instrument which the Hebrews 
called Kinndr, a harp of ten strings, played upon with a plectrum. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



I860.] the Sacred Slave* of Israel. 269 

a great part of Cyprus, where Ke founded aome of the most 
famous cities of antiquity; and BCarcel; any of the barbarian 
kings have been bo widely celebrated, — none so highly praised, 
— by the Greeks, as tbia conquering and inventive monarch. 
The Greeks, in fact, borrowed some of the most favourite tales 
in their mythology from the Hivite nation. To them they were 
indebted for the myth of Venus and Adonis, the true scene of 
which was on the summit of Mount Lebanon, and near the city 
of Aphaka. Adonis, according to mythology, was the son of 
Kinura, who erected three magnificent temples to Aatarte, or 
Venus, where the Feast of Adonis was annually celebrated; one 
at Aphaka, in Lebanon, near the spot where the death of Adonis 
was supposed to have occurred ; another at Byblns, and a third 
at FaphoB at Cyprus, a city founded by this king, and whither 
the romantic tale of Venus and Adonis was first carried by the 
Hivites, for the edification of the Grecian poets. 

But the depravity of Polytheism rendered these mythic 
stories, which as mere poesy may be admired, detestable in their 
results; and no human superstition ever conducted its votaries 
to more abandoned licentiousness than the worship of Baal, or 
the Sun, in the valley of Ceelo-Syria, and of Astarte, or the 
Moon, on the summit of Lebanon. The early Christian writers, 
with just indignation, have denounced the abominations of the 
two polluted cities of Aphaka and Heliopolis; and it would be 
neither profitable nor agreeable to withdraw the veil which time 
has thrown over their terrible descriptions. 

The bravery of the Hivites was proved by the stand which 
they made against the Israelitic conquerors. The whole of the 
Hivite land was within the boundary of Israel; viz., the limits 
of that territory which the Israelites were permitted to conquer. 

The Greek and Latin writsre Kpeak of Cinyraa aa the most beautiful of man< 
kind, and the favourite both of Veniia and Apollo (AaUrte and Baal). Like 
CroBBos he was one of the richeBt kings of the EsBt. We need Bcaroelj- refer to 
the well-kuowii proverb, " Cinyrre opes." His inventive genina was signalized 
both in great and petty disceveiies. He taught the art of refining copper, and 
Invented the lever, the anvil, tilea and scissors. It ia to be observed the sacred 
miters speak of the people of Gebal as able workmen in stone and carpentry ; 
so that the inventions ofCinyras were not wasted upon bis colmtr; men. Homer 
and Pindar have both contributed to render tbe name of CSnyras immortal. The 
epio poet makes him contemporary with Agamamnon, and describes a magnifi- 
cent breast -plate which the Cyprian Bent aa a present to tbe Argive King 
flliad,!]. 19) I and Pindar /JV"- "■ 27), informs US that the name of Cinyras 



itill celebrated by tbe Cyprian poets. 
But it is evident that in tbe time of tbe Greets tbe name of Cinyraa bad 

KBsed from the province of history te that of mythology. We may reasonably 
lieve in the existence of this king, but he must have reigned (if at all), long 
antecedently to the period in which tht siege of Troy (whether itself historicu 

.byCOOl^lC 



270 The Origin and Hittory of [Janoary, 

and of vhich the conquest was promleed if they remained &ith- 
fnl to the worship of Jehovah. But as they relapsed into 
idolatry after the death of Joshua (Judges ii. & — 13), they lost 
this important conquest during the greater part of their historyj 
and only appear to have possessed the Hivite country during 
the prosperOBB reigns of David and Solomon. 

When the Israelites were lords of Hivitia, if we may be per- 
mitted to coin a new appellation, their boundaries extended 
northward, in the vale of Coelo-Syria, to the Le-bo Chamath, or 
entering in of Hamath.' While the Hivites preserved, and 
when they regained, their independence, the northern boundary 
of Israel was at the city of Daa, which was near the south-east 
limits of Hivitia. 

The Le-bo Cbamath was exactly at the point where the 
southern limit of the kingdom of Chamath (or Hamath), was 
eolimitary to the northern boundary of the Hivites, in the 
valley of Lebanon. Its true site has never yet been pointed 
out; but it is the city which, in the Roman itineraries, is called 
sometimes Lybo, and sometimes Conna (both corruptions of Le- 
bo Chamath), and though the distances do not agree (for, on 
this point, the itineraries are often exceedingly, nay, extrava- 
gantly incorrect), the site of Lybo-Conna is certainly to be 
found in the modem village of Lebouah, or " the Lioness."* 

On the summit of Lebanon, and near the city of Aphaka, 

' This was tbe case la tlie time of David (1 Chron. xiii. 5), and of Scdtnooa 
(2 CbrOD. Tii. 8). 

* The northern boandary of the land promised to the leraclitei, is described 
in Namb. xxxir. 7—9, andEzek. xlvii. 15—17. The teit of Ezokiel is incor- 
TBCt, but bj comi>aring the two passages we find that the boondar; commenced 
at the Great Sea, and extended froin thence to 1 , Mount Hor ; 2 the Le-bo Ctut- 
math ; 3, Ti-.edad ; 4, Ziphron ; 5, Chatier hath-Tik6ii ; 6, Chatiar 'Eynan. 

Oebal was certainly within the permitted limits of Israel (Josh. xiii. 5). As- 
raming this, then, as the northern border on the coast, let us dran a line m any 
modem map of Sjria, from this city eastward. This line, on the summit of 
Lebanon, will pass a little to the north of Apbaka, or Apfaek (a citj allotted to 
the tribe of AsW), which marks the true locality of that district of Lebanon, 
called Monnt Hor. In the -vale of Cmlo-Syria, it will pass near the village of 
Lebonah, which was certainly the Lybo-Conna of the Romans (see tbe Anto- 
nine Itinerary), and the Le-bo Chamath of the Hebrews. From thence the line 
is to be extended to the eastern brow of Antilebanon, in the valleys of which 
range the cities of Tzedad and Ziphron were probably sitnated. Having reached 
the eastern brow of this chain, the boundary turns southward, along the ridgo 
of the raonntains, to Haz&rv, and Ain el Hazflry, which are certainly the sites 
of Chatzor (the city of Jabin, called by Ezekiel Chatzor hatb-TikCn, or Chatzor 
the intermetliate, probably because it was situated half-way between Tyre and 
DamascQs], and m Eyn-Chatzor, or ChaUor Eynan, or, as Ezekiel writes it, 
Eynftn. 

This view of the northern boundary of iBrael (which we believe to be original 
in its principal features^), will, we hope, on the strictest critical esacnination, be 
fiiand Bofficvently certain to clear a point of sacred geography which has hitherto 
been found not a little perplexing. 



.byCOOl^lC 



I860.] the Sacred Slaves of Israel. 271 

was a district or peak, whicli Moses called Hor lia-har, or Mount 
Hor (Numb, xsziv. 7), a name which appears to have been ap- 
plied to the whole country round A])haka, but which was per- 
haps given KOT e^oj(r)p to the lofty peak of the Sanniu. It vas 
in this dictrict that the scene of the death of Adonis was placed 
by the Syrian mythologists ; and the very name of Hor appears 
to be derived from the Arabic .j^, signifying the act of prostrat- 
ing or killing ; for here the beautiful hunter was supposed to 
have been prostrated aod killed by the tusks of the wild boar, on 
the banks of the riyer, near Apaka, called from his name ;' while 
from the ground, moistened by bis blood, sprung up the purple 
anemone. 

In this mythic region, sacred to the genius of old Syrian 
romance, and invested with a character of peculiar holiness by 
the superstition of the people, appears to have dwelt, somewhat 
less than a century before the entry of Abraham into Canaan, 
a Hiyite chieftain, celebrated in Scripture under the name of 
Se'yr. Circumstances induced hjm to emigrate southward, with 
his household and slaves ; and after passing through Canaan he 
finally settled in that country, which afterwards acquired the 
name of Edom. 

To this mountainous region he gave the name of Se'yr, a 
name which it retained till the time of the latest of the Hebrew 
prophets who lived before the return from the captivity. But, 
in memory of Mount Hor in the Lebanon, he gave to one pecu- 
liar mountain in bis new settlement the name of Mount Hor. 
It is called by Moses Hor ha-har, exactly the same name, and 
with the same peculiar construction, as Mount Hor in the Le- 
banon range .J' 

' See tlie eighth section of the beautUiil little treatise On the Syrian Ooddeii 
(attribnted, as it seema to ua very erroneouBlj, to Lncian), the notice of the 
river Adonia, in ManndreU'a travela, and the exquiaite passage in the Paradise 
Lott, book i., ver. 446. For hia learning (suck as it is), on the subject of the 
Syrian deities, Milton ia indebted to the two barbaioas and almost anreadable 
tyntagmata of 8elden. It is aiogular that neither Selden nor Milton should have 
ODSBcved, that Thammuz (or more proporiy Tammui), is not the name of the 
deity, but merely the cry of lamentation (or funereal wail) of the &pian women, 
on the death of Adonis, It is simplj a cormptioa of the nord Tamath. The 
Hivitea (being: probably aa incapable of pronouncing the " th " as the Ephraim- 
itea were of enunoiating the "ah"), seem to have softened the difficult aspirate 
"th" to "z," in the some manner as a modern Frenchman or German often 
aubstitntes "B" for the same aspirate, pronouncing "sing" for "thin^." Tamui 
(or Tammuz) therefore, signifies " Thou art dead I thon art dead I" bemg exactly 
the same eiciamation of wail which was uttered by the Grecian women on the 

) Numb. sz. S3, S3 ; xxi. 4 ; xxiiii. 38. The syntactical construction of Hor 
ha-har is annsiial, and this of course stren^henH the preaumption of a conuezion 
between the two peaks of that name, in the Lebanon and Honnt Se'yr. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



272 77ie Origin and Hittory of [Janaary, 

The date of the settleineiit of the Hivitea, tmder Se'yr, ia 
the mountaias to the south of Canaan, and the Dead Sea/ was 
about one generation prior to the time of Abraham. This very 
interesting fact we deduce from the marriage of Eaau, the grand- 
Bon of Abrahamj with Aholibamah, the great-granddaughter of 
Se'yr- 



Abraham Zibeon 

Isaac Aoah 

EsBU^Cm anied)= Abohbamc 



Chaf. II. — 7Rc History of the Uitnies in Mount Se'yr. 

Thb Hivitea in Mount Se'yr' appear to have founded several 
cities: a great part of the population, however, certainly re- 
tained the old Troglodytic mode of lifej familiar to their an- 
ceators in Northern Hivitia. 

The cities mentioned by Moaea (iu Gen. xsxvi. 32 — 39), were 
most probably founded by the Hivites." If bo, they are calcu- 

• That the colony of Sa'yr were Hivites is evident from Gen. sxxTi. 2, whera 
it IB said that Aholibamah (one of the wives of Esau) was the danghler of Anah, 
and grand-dauKhter of Zibeon, the HiviCe. This exactlj' a(p-eeB with the gene- 
alogy of Se'yr m the same chap. v. 20— 25; viz., 1. Se'yr; 2. Zibeon; 3. Anah; 
and 4. Aholibamah. 

The circamstance of the Se'jrideB giving the name of a particalu peak tn 
Hivitia (Monnt Hor) to one in th^r new settlement, also eetablislies their 
Hivite descent, and seems to prove that tbeir odgmal sentB in the Lebanon were 
in the neic-bboQihood of Mount Uor. 

' The HivitcB of Mount Se'vr are moat freqaently called in BcriptnTB Chori 
(collectively), or in the plnral Cborim ; in oni national version, HoTites. This 
appellation is aapposed to be derived from Chor (a hole, or eavern). and to mean 
" the dwellers in caverns " (or Troglodytes) ; as the Kenizzitea obtuned tbeic 
distinotivB name from the circumstance that their habitations resembled "nests" 
in the rocks. But againat the derivation of Choii from Chor, we may obaerre 
that the Troglodytic mode of life was practised jnst as ranch by the Edomites 
(who succeeded the So'yrides) as by the latter people ; yat the name of Chori ig 
never in 4ny case given to the Edomitea whom it would have suited eqnally 
well with the Be'yrides, if it had meant "dwellers in caves." Considering the 
very frequent mistake in the vnlgar Hebrew tent, of the letter Chfith (or 
HhSyth) for Eft ; it is qaite as nrobable that the true name was UOri, indicating 
that they were a people from Mount Hoc in the Lebanon. 

" We infer this because the tell-tale appellations of Dinhahah (Plundertown), 
and Masrekah (Robbers'-hol^ are not likely to have been bestowed on cities 
founded by the Edomites. TTie whole hiitory of the latter proves tbem to have 



.byCOOl^lC 



I860.] t/ie Sacred Slaves of Israel. 273 

lated to give va a very iadifTerent opinion of the moral character 
of this peopiOj and their respect for the law of nations. The 
very names of their cities are a permanent record of the crimes 
of their inhahitants ; for Di-nlmhab si^fies, in plain English, 
Flundertown, and Masrekah, which Gesenius erroneoiifily de- 
rives from SdrSk, a ?ine, in reality means neither more nor less 
than Uobbers'-hold. The truth is the Hivites had great tempt- 
ations to plunder. Along the base of their mouutains, rich 
caravans most perpetually have pasaed, laden with the products 
of India, of Seba, and perhaps of the eastern coast of Africa, 
as ivory from Abyssinia, and gold from Sofala. It is easy to 
shew that a great caravan commerce existed in the East long 
before the time of Moses, or even of Abraham. To this plun- 
dering disposition of the Hivites is to be attributed the number 
of cities on the south border of Canaan, to whose names the 
appellation of Chatzor, or castle, is prefixed, as Chatzor-Yith- 
nan, Chatzor-Hadattah, Chatzor-Amam, Chatzor-Gaddah, Chat- 
zor Shu'al, and Chatsor-Sasah." None of these places {even 
when erroneously pointed as Chatzar, the conHtruct state of 
Cbatz^r, by the Masoretic critics), are to be understood as mean- 
ing " unwalled villages." It is usual in all countries, ancient 
and modem, European and Oriental, to add the name of castle 
to that of a city protected by a strong fortress. But rare, in- 

hoen tn all ages a peaceablo and commeroial people. ETen MicboeliB, who haa 
in Keneral not much aytA to sa; of the nations to the Bonth of Canaan, is com- 
pelled to admit that the EdomiteB "had a well-regulated government, and a 
cultivated conntcy" (Cbmtnenf. on tkt Laa of Mota, vol. i., p. GT. Smith's 
traDststioD.) 

Canon Stanley, it is trne [Sinai and Ptdat.^ p. 87) speaks of " the wild tribes 
of Euan, who hunted over the long slopes of Mount Seir " in the time of MoaeB ; 
bat it will ba time enough to cootrOTort the Kev. gentleman's opinion, when he 
has alleged even the shadow of an argument in support of it. 

The Edomites then (a civilized and well-orderaa people) were not Lkely to 
have plundered their neighbours, and we may infer that the facetions appella- 
tions of Plondorlewn and Kobbers'-hold were bsstowed upon the cities so called 
while tbey were occnpied by an earlier people of different habita. 

That the Se'yrideB were a ptedatoiypeople, we may preanme, from the fact 
that Jehovah himself destroyed the Chon from before the children of Esan 
(Deut. ii. 22). If these Hivites had been peaceable and civilized, we can scarcely 
sappose that the people uf Edom would have been provided with a conntry 
to dwell in at their expense. They had no doubt merited their expulsion by 
making themselves a nuisance to their neighbours, and a terror to "- 



Many of these names at 
of the Book of Joshua, so as to form two cities instead ol 
Chatzor and Yithnao instead of Chatzor- Tithnan ; Chatzor, ChadatbU (as two) 
instead of Cbatzor-CbadathSb. Hence it ia that the number of the cities on the 
border of Edom (Josh. xv. 21 — 32) which in ver. 32 are said to ba twenty-nine, 
appear (when they are actually summed up as they occnr in the vulgar copies) 
to be thirty-eight. On this subject, see Keland's iWe»«fle, pp. 143, 144 (Utrecht 
edition). 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



274 TKe Origm and History of [January, 

deed, are the cases where it is deemed necessary to perpetuate 
the memory of the fact, that any particular place, on a frontier 
line, exists in the miserable condition of an unwalled village. 
We may assume it to have been of all things the most impro- 
bable that the unfortunate neighbours of the predacious inha- 
bitants of PlundertovD and the Bobber's-hold would place, upon 
their very border, a tempting exuberance of unwalled villages, 
and would add to the names of these places an announcement 
of their unprotected condition, as if for the express benefit of 
the Hivite depredators. £ut there is a reflux of tide in the 
affairs of nations, which often leaves the spoiler bare, a defence- 
less object for hostility to trample ou. In the early days of the 
Hivite settlement happened that invasion of Chedorlaomer and 
his allies, the Cutbiean kings, as they are frequently called, from 
the distant shores of the Persian Qulf, in which Pinndertown 
and Robbras'-hold were destined to become the prey of stronger 
plunderers and more formidable robbers (Gen. xiv. 6), Sut the 
Hivites of Se'yr seem soon to have recovered from their formid- 
able harrying by these vile off-acourings of the old Assyrian 
dominion. 

The next important event in their history was the fatal mar- 
riage, which ultimately caused their cxpulsiou from Mount Se'yr. 
Esau, deprived of hia birthright by his own imprudence, and the 
partial interference of hia mother Rebecca, contracted an alliance 
with the house of Se'yr. He married Aholibamah, the daughter 
of Anah, the grandson of the old Hivite cbieitaiu." After this 

" There are two lists of the wives of Esau, wUch are respectively as fol- 

Gen. xxtI, 34 aod xxviii. 9. Oen. xxxri. 2, 3. 

1. TehDa[th, daughter of Beeri, the 
Hittite. 

2. Bosmath (in our veisioQ errone- 
ojjrfy written BathBhemetii) daughter 
of Efylon, the Hittite. 

3. Machalath, daughter of Ishmael, S. Bosmath, daughter of lehmael, 
and sister of Nebajoth. and sister of Mebaiotb. 

4. Aholibamah, daiight«t of An^, 
the son of Zabeon, the Hivite. 
There appears to ns only one error of importance in these lists ; and (that 
corrected) the two lists may be easily reconciled. The name of Bosmath given 
to the second wife (Gen. xxvi.) is an evident error: the true name was AdSi, aa 
in Gen. mvi. The name of Bosmath, written by mistake, waa one of the names 
of the third wife, the daughter of Ishmaol. 

_ The two names of the third wife are both correct. Her name waa probably 
originally Bosmath (or Pragcance), and was afterwards in consequence of some 
accidental injury changed to r^ disease, (see Nnmb. xxvi. 33), and not to 
nVra a harp, aa in the vulgar teM of the Hebrew Bible. 

The first wife was Yehudith, the daughter of Been, the Hittite. We may 



.byCOOl^lC 



I860.] the Sacred Slaves of Israel 275 

alliance he remained in Mount Se'yr, where his descendants 
continued, in the midst of the Hivites, until that barren region 
was found to be too contracted for the subsistence of the two races, 
and it became evident that one or the other must depatriate. 
The Edomites, assiated by Jehovah, gained the victory in the 
struggle; and destroyed, probably, a great part of the Hivite 
colony; and drove the residue to seek new abodes, wherever 
Gad or Fortune, one of their national deiticB, might favour 
them. And now we should lose sight completely of the pro- 
geny of Se'yr, if a singular circumstance did not enable as to 
identify them with a Hivite colony, which the Israelites, in the 
time of Joshua, found settled in the midst of the Amorites, to 
the north-east of the Philistine Sheph^ah, or Lowlands. 

We have seen that the Hivites, on settling jn Mount Se'yr, 
gave to one of its remarkable pe^s the name of Mount Kor, 
evidently troja a fond remembrance of their original seats on the 
mountains of that name in the long chain of the Lebanon. 
Exactly in the same manner, when driven from the original 
Mount Se'yr, they endeavoured to renew the cherished remem- 
brance by bestowing on a small range of mountains which crossed 
their new territories, the name of Mount Se'yr.* The same 
feelings almost invariably actuate the human race under similar 
circumstances, and it would be easy to shew from ancient oriental 

sasnme that this vifo died cfaildlesa, and that on that account her name is 
omittod in Gen. xxxvi., becanse the object of the list contained in that chapter 
ii to shew the progsii j of Eaan. 

It -was probably after the death of Yehndith, that Eaan married his fourth 
wife, Aholibamah, the Hivite. 

' On the line of the northern border of the country, afterwards allotted to 
the tribe of indah, wan the city of Ba'alfih (an idolatrona name, which was 
afterwards changed by the leraelites to Kiryath Ye'&riiu, or the City of the 
Woods). This city may be identified with the modam Kuryet el Enab. It was 
nine uiiles from Jerusalem on the road to DioBpolis, or Lydda, the modern 
Lndd [see Eusebius, Tlipl reiy rinriKar, k.t.\.) The dietanco agrees with the 
sitnation of Kurvet el Knah, which is on the same road. 

From Kiryath Yefirim, the north border of Jndah ptoooeded westward to 
Monnt Se'yr, and it passed to the north side of Har-Ye'firira (or the Mount of 
the Woods), and went down to Beth-shemesh, and passed to Timnath. 

lieth-ahemesh is evidently the modem Ain Shems. Eusebins describes it as 
being ten miles from Eleatheropolis on the road to Nicopolia, Eletitheropolis 
was certainly on the site of the modern Beit Gibrin, and Ain Sliems is exactly 
ten miles from that site on the road to Nicopolis {now 'Amwafl). 

Timnath may be identified with a site, abont three miles to the west of Ain 
Shems, now called Tibneh. 

The exact position, therefore, and whole course of the northern Mount Be'yr 
may be distinctly traced by any traveller, who (venturing to deviate a little from 
the trite and ordinary rontea) wonld make a short excnrsion for that pntpose from 
Jerusalem. If be travelled further south to Shuweikah, the ancient Snotah, he 
might discover in the neighbonring wfidy, the true scene of the death of Goliath, 
wluch monkish impertinence (for the edification of travellers) baa removed 
northward to Kolonieb. 



.byCOOl^lC 



276 The Origin and History of [Janoary, 

history, that the same fondness for the land of their birth, and 
the same desire to perpetuate the names of its cities, mountains, 
rivers, and valleys, in a distant country, actuated the old Asiatics, 
which has been so signally developed among the modem Ameri- 
cans. 

In their new settlements, among tbe clans of the wide- 
spreading Amorites, and on or near the road from the city, 
afterwards called Jerusalem, to Joppa on the coast, the Hivitea 
were possessed in the time of Joshua of four cities — Gibeon, 
Beeroth, Chephirah, and Kiryath Yeirim.' Even in the deterio- 
rated condition to which they were reduced, after their expulsion 
from Mount Se'yr, the Hivites of the Tetrapolis were no con- 
temptible people; "Gibeon was a great city, as one of the 
royal cities, and greater than Ai, and all the men thereof were 
mighty."' 



Chap. III. — The History of the Gibeonites, in and after the 
time of Joahaa. 
It is unnecessary to repeat the singular, but well-known story of 
the manner in which the Gibeonites and the other Hivites of 
the Tetrapolis deceived Joshua and the Israelites, in the camp 
at Gilgal.' The descendant of Se'yr displayed, on this occasion, 

' GIbeoD is admitted to be the modoni El Jib, As to the eituation of 
Beeroth a doabt exists in conseqaeooe of a Tariation between the Greek teit of 
Ensebius (Hfpl ray TomucAv, jc.t.A.) and the Latin transUtion \>y Jerome. Both 

rie that thiB city was seven miles from Jemuilem ; but Ensebias placed it on 
road to Nicopolis (or'Amn'as), and Jerome on that to Neapolis (or Nablone). 
Reland (Pa^tirK, p. 618) finally decided in favoar of Jerome ; bat it seoins to 
us that the text of EaeebiuB is correct, because in Ezra ii. 25 and Neb. Tii. 29, 
the cities of Eiryath Ye'&rim, Chephirah, and Beeroth are all mentioned toge- 
ther, and distinct from Oifaeon. If Beeroth had been on the road to Neapolis, it 
woald have been nearer Gibeon than to Kiryatfa Te'&rim. 

Of Chephirah nothing is known except that from the texts last quoted it 
appears to nave been near Keryath Ye'£rim. 

' Josh. X. 2. That the people of Gibeon were Hivites, appears from Josh, 
zi. 19. In 2 Sam. xxi. 2, the; are said to have been " of the remnant of the 
Amorites ;" but this merely means that they settled in a part of Canaan pr&- 
Tionsly inhabited by tbe Amorites. 

The name of Monnt Se'yr connects tbem with the Hivitee of the sontham 
Mount Se'yr, in the same manner as the name of Monnt Hor connected the 
race of Se'yr with the Hirites of Lebanon ; and each of these two fncts corrobcf- 
ratea the inference to be deduced from the other in such a manner as to amoont 
to unqnestionable evidence; — 1. That the family of Se'yr originated in Monnt 
Hor, of Lebanon. 2. That from thence they emicp^tod to tbe mountains after- 
wards possessed by Edom ; and 3. That when the Se'yrides were expelled by 
the race of Esau, they obtained new settlements In Gibeon, and its three snb- 

■ Josh. Ix. It is remarkable that of all the Cauaanite nations, these Hivites 



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I860.] the Sacred Slaves of Israel 277 

in an abundant degree, the old serpent-craft of the Hivitea. 
When their fraud was detected, when the Israelites after three 
days' journey found themselves in the midst of the cities of their 
new allies, whom they must have imagined to be settled in some 
extreme comer of Asia, they were justly indignant at the de- 
ception which had been practised upon them. " And (Joshua 
ix. 22, 23) Joshua called for them" (the Hivites), "and he spake 
unto them, saying, Wherefore have ye beguiled ua, saying, We 
are very far from you, when ye dwell among us? Now, there- 
fore, ye are accursed" [devoted appears to be the better render- 
ing];' "and there shall none of you be ireed from being bonds- 
people, posseeBing a strong luetropoliB, and an able to defand themselveB as the 
DeM of tbe soathem Conaanites) have endeavoared to avert from themselvea the 
impending calamitj 7 

We imagine it was no fear of the Israelites which induced them to take 
theaa steps of sabmissiop ; but the traditional remembrance, still strong among 
their sept, of theDeit;, who had expelled their ancestors from the greater Mount 
Se'yr to make room for the better disposed race of Edom. 

When they were questioned by Jo ahoa, as to the motiTea of their journey to 
Gilga!, they rejilied, " From a very far conntry thy sotvauts are come ; becanne 
of the name of JehuTah thy God, for wo have heard the fame of bim, and all 
that be did in Egypt." 

If this were all, every nation in Canaan might have said the same ; bat we 
apprehend the Gibeonites could (if tbey had deemed it prudent) 'have alleged a 
reason which came more home to themselves. They might have said with truth, 
" The fame is still strong among us, that our ancesUirs were driron by Jehovah 
your God from their pOBsesBions in the greater Mount Se'yr; and we fear that 
he is DOW again coming to expel us, their descendanta (the remnant of a once 
proud nation) from our humbler seats in this leaser Se'yt among the Amorite 

How much this motive for tbe submission of the Gibeonites would increase 
the interest of the story of their emliassy, it is scarcely necessary to point out. 

' It appears incongraous to suppose that any person accursed in the proper 
sense of the word, would be allowed t« perform even the most menial offices for 
the service of the tabernacle. Every one will recollect the beautiful passage in 
the eizhty-fonrth Psalm : " For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand 
[elsewhere]. I had rather be a door-keeper in the boose of my God than \o 
dwell in the tents of wickedness." 

It seems to us that the word Vtr» here signiHes devoied; though no 
instance, directly in point, can be found in tbe existing Hebraism. The con- 
text renders this meaDiog indispensable, " Now therefore ye are devoied, and 
there shall none of you be fteed from being the slaves of ray God." 

Tbe verb Arar is in this text a milder substitate for Chardm. Whatever 
was devoted by the vow of Chlrom was irretrievably given np, and could not 
{like things consecrated by a vow of Neder) be redeemed. If the object of the 
vow Charem were a man, he was doomed to certain and irremisaible death ; and 
it was a Clime of the heaviest natnre to save bim. Hence we may conclude 
that the only legitimate objects of auch a vow were enemies among the idolatrons 
nations taken as captives in war. Joshua would not naa the verb Ch&ram in 
application to the Hivites, because this would imply that tbey were doomed to 
death ; from which it was his intention to save them. He therefore nsed the 
word Arar, which had originally exactly the same meaning except that it 
implied no such irremiaaible doom. The Greek 'Apik is certamly of the same 
origin aa the Hebrew Arar; and from'Apik are formed 'Apioiun {voia facio), 
'Apaiat {impTecatiindhv* dirii devotm), and also 'ApriT^p (lacerdoi). 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



■278 The Origin and Hutory of [January, 

men, and hewers of wood, and drftwers of water, for the house 
of my God."" 

It is, we beliere, usually supposed, that the condition of the 
Hivites, as the slaves of the sanctuary, was exceedingly laborious 
and degraded. But this is very far from the case; it was, in 
fact, exceedingly honourable, and displayed in a signal manner 
the clemency of Joshua, and the good disposition, on this point 
at least, of the Israelites. They were allowed to retain their 
four cities, and the little district that depended upon them ; they 
still dwelt under the shadow of their diminutive Mount Se'yr ; 
and far &om being looked upon as a race of degraded slaves, 
they were, in fact, treated as a singularly holy people ; an in- 
ferior order of Levites, who were the proper guardians of the 
sanctuary, and the ark of the covenant ; whose persons were 
protected by their office, and whom it was a sacrilege to de- 
stroy.* This is sufficiently evident from several occurrences re- 
lated in sacred histoir. 

1, When the Philistines were compelled by the Divine 
plagues inflicted upon them, to restore the ark of the covenant, 
which they had taken in battle, they placed it in an 'agfklah (or 
bullock waggon), drawn by two milch kine, whose calves they 
had previously shut up at home, and permitted the cattle to take 
their own course, from Ekron to wherever they should be in- 
clined, of their own free-will, or by supernatural influence; 
rightly conjecturing that, if the kiue quitted their calves and 
proceeded (a distance of twelve miles or more) to Beth-Shemesh, 

■ Joshiu and the Hebrew princes nere willing to Bave ths Hivites in pni- 
BTwnce of the treaty ; bnt they were conacioui that in bo doing they were 
violattBg the Divine commaDdment, that the whole nation of the idolatrous 
Canaanitea should be eitermiuated. As a apeoies of expiation, therefore, for the 
breach of the commandinent, they dedicated the HivitsB to the service of the 
Lord ; and that this offering was Kracioasly accepted, we have abundant proof 
afterwards, in the manner in which the slaughter of the Gibeonites hy the 
impious Saul waB avenged. 

" It may be considered that, under the circnmstances, the HiTites resLj suf- 
fered no punishment. But it should be recollected that their services n>ere 
ohligatory, and that they received no pa3nneut for them. The priests and 
Levites were maintained at the expense of the whole natioti of Israel ; but this 
was not the case with the Hivites. In all ages they were doomed to be servants j 
and they were servants without wages or maintenance of any kind. It ia true 
the labour was alight and aervice honourable ; and it is creditable to them, that 
they aeem even to the latest period to have performed it zealously. After the 
edict of Cyrus, twenty oat of the tweuty-four courses of the priests, notwith- 
standing the king's permission to return to Judea, preferred to remain in 
infamy and disgrace iu the wealthy land of Bahytonia. Not so the Hivites, — 
the men of Oibeon, Eiryath Ye'ftrim, Beeroth, and Chepherah, returned to their 
sacred duties of their own free-will, and when they were at perfect liberty to 
have shaken off the yoke of the temple. It cannot he denied then that their 
whole conduct shewed that they merited, hy their obedience and gratitude, the 
indulgeuce shewn to them. 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



I860.] the Sacred Slaves of Israel. 379 

the nearest sacerdotal city, and vMch was also on the Israelite 
border, they nmBt be influenced by the same Divine power which 
had prostrated the maimed image of Dagon, and indicted its 
plagues upon the cities of Philistia, The kine, thus left to their 
own guidance, took the way towards Beth-Shemesh, which satis- 
fied the Philistines that they were really conducted by the power 
of the terrible God of Israel j who thus led back the ark of his 
covenant to the land of his people.* But the people of Beth- 

" The hiatoiy will be fooud id 1 Sam. It., t., and vi. To render it more 
intelligible, il may be nsefnl to obBerrs, tbat it wM tbe custom among the idola- 
troiiB nations of the East, that the imageB of their gods ahould on great feetivals, 
BJid other solemn oocasiona, be placed in moveable shrines, in w^ch they were 
carried about on the s^ioulders of the prieats. Whenever these nations went 
out to battle, thev also took with them the images of their goda carried in these 
shrines ; and dnnng tbe march, the prieats bearing their aacrcd burden usually 
preceded them in the van of their anny. If the resnlt of the battle was adverse, 
the gods of the defeated nation beMune (if the eipresHion may be allowed} 
prisoners of war,^the captives of the gods of the ooniiuering people. Two 
instances of this are mentioned in Scripture, 2 Sam. t. 21, and 2 Chron. xiv. 



14 ; bnt in the latter case, tbe vanquished deities became nltimately the c< 
querors over the superstition of the weak Amaziah. 

To the Israelites, the ark of the covenant was exactly what these moveable 
shrines were to the heathen. It contained no image, becanse this was contrary 
to the natnro of a pure worship, and to the express injunctions of the Mosaic 
law. Bat Johorah was sappoaed to honour the ark of the covenant with a 
peculiar presence; and hence he was described in their sacred poetry, as the 
"dweller between the cherubim." In all their marches during the I^odus, 
after they quitted Mount Binai, the uA of the covenant borne on the shoulders 
of the priests (Josh. iii. 14) preceded the tribes, and pointed oat by its stopping 
the place of encampment (Nam. x. 33). So in their battles the ark appears to 
have preceded them ; for we find it mentioned as an exceptional case, that the 
ark did not accompany the army in the first expedition against 'Ar&l (Num. 
xiv. 44), the reason of which was that the eipeditioQ was not only onauthorized, 
but against the express injunction of Moses. 

On their settlement in Canaan, this custom appears to have ceased (1 Bam. 
iv. T). But in the time of Eli, the people (in their fear of the Philistines, who 
were encamped at Apbek) sent to Shiloh for the ark of the covenant in the con- 
fident expectation tliat it would lead them to victory. The ark was biongbt 
preaamptuoosly by Hophni and Fhinehas (the wicked sons of Eli) without con- 
sulting the Oracle ; and (apparently to pnniah their presumption) the Israelites 
were defeated; Hophni and Fhinehas slain, and the ark tAken by the Philistines. 
The lords of Philistia, then rogarciing the (Jod of Israel as the captive of Dagon, 
placed the ark in the temple of that god ; and the ark of Jehovah stood as a 
prize of war before the apparently victorious image of the fish god. 

We need not relate how bitterly their hopes were deceived, nor how Dagon 
(converted into a devil by the erring glosses of early Christian snperstition, and 
the poetry of Milton) was supposed to have — 

" Mourned in earnest when tbe captive aik 
Maimed bis brute image." 
Nor how the Philistines (afflicted in all their cities) learnt how little their tio- 
tory availed thom. 

Tbe priests and diviners (Kosemim) of the Philistines, when consalted, 
imagined that by yoking milch kine (whose calves were tied up) to the 'Agfilah 
in which the ark was placed, they wonid obt^n a sure indication of the caase of 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



280 The Origin and History of [January, 

Shemesh, tboagli priests of the famUy of Aaron, presumptuously 
opened the axV, aa oflence which caused a destructive pestilence 
in the city and its district. la this extremity, they sent mes- 
senj^rs to Kiryath Yefirim, desiring the people of that city to 
fetch the ark. The people of Kiryath Ydlrim, it will be'recol- 
lected, were a part of the Hivite slaves of the sanctuary; and 
the priests of Beth-Shemesh, in sending for the Hivites, meant 
no more than to restore the ark of the covenant to the custody 
of the sacred slaves of the tabernacle; as more worthy than 
themselves of so holy a deposit. 

2, In the same manner, the tabernacle itself, which waa 
originally set up in Shiloh, and sfterwards removed to Nob, a 
city very near the Hivite Tetrapolis,* was transferred from 
thence, apparently after the murder of the priests by Saul, to 
Gibeon, the chief city of the Hivites, for the convenience of 
placing the Nomade temple in the custody of the sacred slaves; 
and from that time to the days of Solomon, Gibeon became the 
chief high place of Israel (1 Kings iii. 4) ; and the whole terri- 
tory of the Tetrapolis appears to have been regarded as a sort of 
Holy Land, as being the residence of the devoted servants of 
the tabernacle. 

3. That a peculiar idea of sanctity was attached to the 
Hivites, is evident from the severe punishment inflicted upon 
the family of Saul, for the slaughter, by that king, of a consider- 
able number of the people of Gibeon. A &mine fell upon the 
land, in the time of David, which endured for three years (2 Sam. 
iii. 1 — 14). David, reduced to despair, enquired of the Lord 
what offence on the part of the Israelites had caused this caJa- 

left to themaelveB would not qnit their calvei. If the God o! Israel were the 
avenging power, be would direct the htuto anlmala, contrary to their natural 
inBtinct, and oonduot them to the nearest sacerdotal citv, Beth-Sheniesh, 

In thi» point they were not deceived. The kina with their aaored barden 
iet out from the city of 'Ekrdo, the modem 'Akir. They proceeded down the 
valley in a south-easterly direction, and passed by Timnah, the last town of the 
Philistines. From bence they proceeded to Betb -Sbemesh (Ain Shems). To the 
borders of this city the lords of the Philistinea followed them, and then perfectly 
convinced returned to their homes. 

fieth-l^hcmesb is mentioned in Joah. ixi. 16, as one of the sacerdotal cities 



aats of Aaron. 

' Jerome {in Spilaphio Paida) places Nob (or Nobah) near IKospolie. It 
was very probably on the site of Beit Nubah, near 'Amwas. A modem theory 
places it on Mount Olivet, near Jerusalem ; but the arguments in aupport^of 
this apiwar insufficient ; and the Jebusites must have been blocked up closely 
indeed, if it were safe to have placed the tabernacle of the congregation so near 
their city. 



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1 860.] the Sacred Slavet of Israel. 281 

mity. He learnt from the sacred oracle, that the cause of this 
fatal plague upon the laud was the murder of the Gibeomtee by 
his ferocious predecessor. Thus apprised, David applied to the 
Gibeonites, and proposed to make them any atouemcnt in his 
power, if they would pardon the crime of the homicidal king. 
The case has been represented as one of blood-revenge, which 
it certainly was not/ but the divine interposition enabled the 
people of Gibeon to place themselves in the position of the Goel, 
or avenger of blood, claiming the death of the murderer of his 
kinsman ; or rather to claim a stiU more extensive satisfaction 
than was allowed to the Goel by the Mosaic law. 

They appear, however, rather to have treated the murder of 
their kinsmen as a crime against Jehovah himself, than an 
offence personal to themselves, in which they would be justified 
in accepting an atonement. Their reply seems to have been that 

I The caatom of blood-reveiigQ among the Hebrews, and the Mosaic law 

limiting its operation, have been very macfa miBtaheu bj some writera, who 
bavo confonndcd their operation with tiiat of ths custom of the modem Araba 
in similar cases. 

A diligent and very useful compiler, the late Dr. Kitto, thus relates his own 
view of the blood-revenge among the Hebrews : " David has been censured by 
Boiae writers for consenting to the demand of the Gibeonitea ; but we have 
wasted the pains, which, at different timoi, we have taken, in expounding the 
doctrine of avengement foi blood, if the reader bas Dot perceived that the de- 
mand of the Gibeonites was one which the king oonld not refuse. Thej might 
hare accepted the blood fine ; but this was optional with them. It is a well- 
known principle of blood-avengement that the heirs and relatives of the blood- 
shedder are responaible for the blood in their own persons, in case the avengei 
is not able to reach the actaal perpetrator " (Bistary of Palettine, p. 491). 

Dr. Kitto really wasted his pains in eipoaoding a law which he evidently 
did not comprehend. The legitimate right of blood-ievenge among the Isiaelites 
never extended farther titan against the slayer himself. The Goel was in no 
case entitled to revenge against the relatives of the slayer. If it had been so, 
they must necoSHarily have fled with the homicide himself to the nearest city of 
refuge. But nothing of this kind is mentioned by Moses. It would often have 
been impossible to give notice in time to all the relations to escape ; and the 
number of reftigeeSj nndei such circumstances, must have been a grievons and 
often intolerabTc inconvenience <0 the stationary inhabitants of the city of 
refuge. 

The Gibeonites did not make any claim to revenge of hlood ; they expressly 
negatived any each demand. Their clidm was founded upon the Divine inter- 
feronoe, and the necessity of offering an atonement to termbate the famine; 
they treated it as a compliance with the demand of the Lord, that the relatives 
of the guilty (themselves implicated, though not as actaal murderers) should 
perish as an expiation for the people. 

It is clear that the seven persons delivered to the Gibeonites were not con- 
cerned in the actual commission of the murder ; becanse they were delivered up 
not as murderers {and therefore within the law of blood revenge), but as rela- 
tives of the homicide, whose sacrifice was required hy a higher power than that 
of mere human institutions. 

But for the famine and this announcement of the Divine will, it is perfectly 
clear that no One would have required the blood of any of the aurviving relatives 
of Saul. 



Digili.r^'byCOOl^lC 



382 Tfte Origin and Hittory of [January, 

of men who coosidered it their duty to assert thdr dignity as the 
servants of the Lord; and to shew that they occupied a proud 
and important position, which even the kinga of Israel would 
act rashly in daring to violate. " We will have no aUver, nor 
gold for Saul, nor for his house; neither for us shall any man in 
Israel be slain. The man that would have consumed us, and that 
devised that we should be destroyed &om remaining in any of 
the coasts of Israel, let seven men of his sons be delivered up 
unto us, and we will hang them up unto Jehovah" (2 Sam. xxi. 
5, 6). The expression, "hang them up unto Jehovah," with the 
disclaimer, " let no man of Israel be siaiu for us," satisfactorily 
proves that the perfidious murder of the Gibeonites by Saul was 
looked upon as a peculiar offence against the Lord himself in 
the person of his servants; and this is further proved by the 
subsequent relation of the actual punishment. " And he" (David) 
" delivered them" (the seven descendants of Saul) " to the Gibeon- 
ites ; and they hanged them, on the hill, before Jehovah." If a 
heavy crime had not been committed against the Deity himself, \fj 
the sacrilegious murder of the Gibeonites, as a people peculiarly 
devoted to Him, the expression, "hanged them up before Je- 
hovah," would surely be superfluous and unintelligible. There 
was a farther crime, of course, comprised in the violation of the 
treaty entered into \iy Joshua with the Gibeonites; but this was 
not of such a nature, nor so immediately directed against the 
dignity of the Deity himself, that the punishment should be 
regarded as a solemn expiatory sacrifice, offered to the offended 
majesty of Jehovah. 

Considered in this light, the whole affair assumes an aspect 
totally diffiirent to that in which it has been placed by preceding 
expounders of the Scriptures. 1, The Gibeonites are com- 
pletely exonerated from the charge of being influenced by a 
savage desire of revenge. 2. Some extravagantly absurd impu- 
tations, which have been made against the conduct of David, 
fell at once to the ground ; nor, 3, can there be any charge of 
cruelty with respect to the descendants of Saul; since the ex- 
pression, " the bloody house," seems to shew decisively that the 
seven sufferers were implicated indirectly in the savage cruelty 
and injustice of that ferocious hing, who, on a mere auspicion, 
and that ill-founded, put to death in one day eighty-five of the 
priests of the Lord, and exterminated every living creature in 
the city which they inhabited, even to the sucking children 
and the brute animals (1 Sam. xxii. 18). 

One point only remains to be noticed. We apprehend that 
an important error in the vulgar Hebrew text gives a felse 
colouring to this solemn act of justice. There seems reason to 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] the Sacred Slaves of Inael. 283 

sospect that the esecutioo took place not at Gibeah of Saul,' 
as stated in the sixth verse of 3 Sam. xxi., bnt oq the hill of 
Gibeon. 

The execution, at Gibeah of Sanl, would have appeared a 
anperfluous act of cruelty, calculated to embitter the feelings of 
the criminals, without any advantage to the purposes of public 
justice. At the conclusion of the narrative we learn that they 
were hung up upon "the hill before Jehovah." This could only 
have been on the hill of Gibeou, where the tabernacle of the con- 
gregation at that time remained. The verse which specifies 
Gibeah of Saul as the place of execution, contains proofe of 
inaccuracy which have startled some of the old translators f and 
which seem to justify ua in correcting the particular text, so as 
to make it agree with the general context. The sixth verse 
thus corrected would be rendered into English as follows; "Let 
seven of his sons be delivered unto us, in Gibeah of Saul ; and 
we will hang them up to Jehovah, even on the hill of Jehovah ;" — 
be-har Yehowah, instead of bechtr Yehawah. This exactly agrees 
with the terms of the ninth verse, ba-har liphney Yehowah. 

With this observation, we conclude these remarks ; — which, 
we hope, will be found to throw a useful light upon some of the 
most obscure portions of sacred history. 

H. C. 

' Oibeah woi the birtbplitce of Haul, and the seat of his fsmilj. The exeon- 
tion of the aeven criminala in this place wonld have been rather an insult and 
degradatioD to the family of Saul, than a solemn act of public justice for an 
offence again at the Lord. 

" Some of them omit the words " bechtr Yehowah " {the elact of Jehovah), 
and they might well do so, for althoagh Saul was undonbtedly the anointed of 
the Lord, yet to advert specially to this, (at the precise momeat when he was 
charged by Jehovah himaelf with a great crime,) wonld appear little better 
than a sneer and aaTcasui, impatmg an injndiciouB choice to the Deity. Saul 
fnlfilled the porposes for which he was elected, hy a wisdom infinitely higher 
than that of mere humanity; and yet it is oertaia that he nas in some respects 
a great criminal. The Gibeonites clearly wonld not have chosen tlie time when 
they treated him as a murderer on a large scale to have termed him, par excel- 
fence, the elect of Jehovah. It seems to ua, therefore, beyond a doubt, that 
baJiir YehouaA is an error of transcription for bthar Yehowaa. 



nX-chyGoOglc 



( 284 ) [January, 



AKCXENT AHS MODERN COHMEirTABIES ON THE HOLT 
8CRIfTTTB£S.' 

This commeDtary is difierent, in its entire style, method, and tone, 
from any modem work which has been written on the Gospels — 
certainly from any that has been written since Quesnel's R^ec- 
tiona. In what, then, does this remarkable difference consist? 
Does it consist in the fact that other commentaries are doctrinal, 
whereas the Plain Commentary is devotional? This does, in 
part, express the difference, but without qualifications, only to a 
very imperfect degree, for on some doctrines, as, for example, on 
the doctrines of the Holy Trinity, the incarnation, and the person 
of onr Lord, the Plain Commentary is infinitely fuller and better 
than any and ail of the others. If, however, by this difference 
is meant that other commentaries on the Gospels (we are speak- 
ing of the best) are mainly occupied with doctrinal inferences 
which more properly belong to a work on the Epistles, while the 
Plain Commentary is mainly occupied in considering the mean- 
ings of the identical words and facta recorded, — in a word, that 
the one is occnpied chiefly with doctrinal conclusions, the other 
with the person of our Lord,— then much has been s^d, but 
much which needs qualification still. 

For one mind, truly religious in its way, will handle the 
recorded facts of our Saviour's life after a very different manner 
from that in which another mind, truly religious in its way, will 
delay upon them. We remember to have heard an Easter 
sermon, evidently intended to be constructed upon the true 
ecclesiastical theory of the homily, which, from the minute pre- 
cision with which it manipulated the facts of the record, became 
painful "even as an operation," — and yet we have read homilies 
in which the same incidents were dwelt upon with equal minute- 
ness, and only to edification. He who remembers that the Lord 
Jesus is the Son of God, may safely enter upon the holy ground 
of His "smallest" human acts; he who does not so remember, 
he who has not had it laid to his heart as no power on earth 
except the church hath commission to lay it, that "God and 
man is one Christ " in the unity of the person of the Lord, is 
always in danger of losing his reverence when he enters npon 
that lioly ground. Not rightly or reverently will he think of 

" A Plain Commentary on the Four Holy Gospdt. Philadelphia; H. Hooker. 
S Tols. 6vo. 1859. pp. 938. [A reprint of the work pubJiBhed by J. H. and 
J. Parker, Oxford.) We reprint this paper from the American Quarterly ChurrA 
BevietB. It is vsIoaMe aa expressing the views of a large Bcbool of modern 
divines.— Ed. J. S. L. 



.byCoOi^lc 



I860,] Commentaries on the Holy Seripturet. 285 

the movements of the Lord Jesus, who neglects to remember 
that every motion of the Son of Man ia the motion of the Son 
of God. If the primary fact, that the Word was made flesh, be 
the great mystery of godliness, then every recorded act and 
bodily movement of the Saviour is a substantive part of the 
revelation of that mystery. It surely were not necessary that 
the Son of Man should pass from place to place by walking, — 
the fact then that He, being the Son of God, did so pass in apace 
during the period of Hia mortal sojoam, is a fact having simply 
an infinitely profounder significance than if it had been written, 
it might be of John the Baptist, that he passed through the 
wilderness after the manner of a spirit. The view of the incarnate 
Word, walking, speaking, motioning with His hand, is assuredly 
a view which is given by the inspired Gospels, — we mean, such 
is the form of the inspired record, and this record is assuredly 
its own justification. We are no more at liberty to neglect to 
notice the smallest act of our Lord, than we are to neglect to 
notice the smallest word. In the case of the merely human 
subjects of inspiration, their common human acts may be of 
comparatively small importance — we know them to be men, and 
take for granted that they act accordingly ; but in the case of 
that man, who wna the Son of God, His every act and deed are a 
veritable part of the mystery of godliness : to say of any of these, 
in a disparaging sense, that they are small, is to use language, 
the implication of which can be little thought of by those who 
venture on it. 

But we are too speedily anticipating the main body of our 
subject. It had been our intention, in these introductory re- 
marks, to have exhausted a list of negatives, and in the process 
to have eliminated most of the attributes in which the Plain 
Commentary is unlike the modem generally. After remarking 
that " rationalistic" was not in our list, for the reason that we 
wished purposely to keep out of comparison works so painfully 
distinguished in this respect as most of the later specimens of 
Biblical interpretation are, and because the class of commentaries 
we had in mind in running the contrast, — the so-called "Evan- 
gelical,"^are not to be included, without constant qualification, 
under this wretched term of rationalistic — we will pass over the 
several negative attributes set down in our list, and take up the 
two positive affirmations which we find at the bottom of it, 

The words patristic, and profound, will give us, we think, the 
positive discrimination, whereby the Plain Commentary shall be 
found essentially to difi'cr from the general body of modern in- 
terpretation. The like characteristics will appear, of course, in the 
expository and devotional writings of such men as Andrews and 



.byCOOl^lC 



286 Ancient and Modem Commentariea [Janoaiy, 

Herbert, and of onr early vritera generaUj who really appreciated 
the fathers, but, for the same reason that the modern habit pro- 
duces DO devotional forms constructed upon the particntars of 
our Lord'a life and person, modern comment has lost the pover 
of habitual edification in the aame line. Prayer now conitructs 
its petitions upon certain scholastic (particular) doctrines, such 
ae justification, the new birth, experience of grace, etc. Ancient 
prayer constructed its petitions upon Christy that it might know 
Him, the power of His resurrection, the fellowship of His suffer- 
ings. Had it fallen to the modem habit to make the litany, 
(the mere snpposition is startling,) the petitions commencing 
"By the mystery of thy holy incarnation" would never have 
been thought of. The ancient devotional offices are marked by 
a spiritual articulation making them to differ, in their way, from 
the elaborate abstraction which characterizes the modem, even 
as the chauelled shaft in Gothic cutting differs from the pragmatic 
tameness of the pilastered Italian pier. And so, remote, as we 
fear, onr illustration may seem, the entire patristic style and 
method, the whole body of their writings, differs from the modem. 
As the Gothic builders took the cue of nature, and followed her 
leadings, and produced a style at once mystically glorious and 
articulately reaj, so the Fathers, with a like child-like faith, bent 
over the very words of inspiration, followed where they led, 
traced them where they marked, believed whatever resulted from 
their collation, and produced a body of comment which — to 
pursue the illustration— bears a like relation to the Scriptures 
that the cathedral bears to nature — it is its counterpart. Now 
this cannot be said of the modern commentaries. The best that 
can be said of them is that they may be the counterpart to a 
given portion of the subject-passage ; we know of none that pro- 
fesses to take up each word of inspiration and follow out its 
meaning in the way of Scriptural collation, as does the Plain 
Commentary. But this is precisely the metiiod of the Fathers. 
They believed the words of Scripture to be the words of God, 
and they believed all that is implied when it is said of each and 
every word, ' that it is a word of God,' and they laboured with 
reverent assiduity to ascertain the full meaning, in each instance, 
according to its Scriptural usage, not according to the demands 
of a foregone dogmatic conclusion, — not according to a habit 
which places a mental process where inspiration has placed a 
perpetual reality. When, for example, our Lord spoke of water 
to Nicodemoa, the Fathers believed that water was meant,^ — what 
was further meant by water they ascertained by a careful study 
of the inspired aymboliam. They never built up a spiritual in- 
terpretation by means of a process which destroys the letter, as 



.byCOOl^lC 



I860.] on the Holy Scriptures. 387 

ia with aucb paiofiil frequeocj the modern usage in bailding up 
a doctrinal interpretation. We venture to say, that no case of 
patristic comment can be produced, even from Origen himself, 
in which the letter of Scripture has received such treatment as 
the third and sixth chapters of St. John have received at the 
hands of modern commentators. That the patristic method has 
resulted in mystical interpretations, follows of course; such is 
the inspired method itself. There are very few quotations in the 
New Testament from the Old, which do not acquire their force 
from this fact. But if by mystical is meant unreal and vague, 
then we hold the term to be far more deservingly applied to the 
productions of the modern school. In themselves they — the 
modem commentaries — may be straightforward and four-square 
as a piece of Dutch gardening ; but in the attempt to make them 
connect fully and exhaustively with the Scriptures commented 
upon, they will be found vague to the last degree, vague with 
the kind of vagueness which characterizes everything which ig 
so extremely artificial. It is in fact the indefatigable reality of 
the patristic comment, which, more than anything else, confounds 
our present mental habits. We will venture to make the same 
remark as it respects the Holy Scriptures. It is easy enough, 
for example, to spiritualize the account of the temptation in 
Paradise, at the expense of the letter, in the same way that water 
is interpreted to be spirit in the third of St. John and then dropt 
out as if the word were not there, — it is the literal fact which 
most confounds the prevailing method. It is easy to say of the 
incident narrated in St. John ix. 6, that it ia symbolical of this 
or that ; but to construct a spiritual comment of which the fact 
itself shall form the perpetual and substantial ground, is not an 
easy task. The modern method of spiritualizing the articulate 
realities of mystical Scriptures is of a piece — to revert again to 
our architectural illustration — with the " revived -classic " way of 
idealizing the mystic precision of the GTothic groining into the 
smooth impertinence of the Roman ceiling! It is indeed won- 
derful to see with what ease the modern comment is able to 
ignore the outstanding facta of inspired writ. Wonderful, that 
is, when we consider whose words are the subject of comment; — 
when considered on mere metaphysical ground, independent of 
the sanctions which we should suppose would operate to restrain 
it, and which not so operating, the modem comment is growing 
more and more irreligiovs — the phenomenon ceases to be won- 
derful. It is part and parcel of the universal sway of a scientific 
method. The spirit which is so analyzing the world and all 
things, that the concrete reality everywhere has come to stand 
to our minds as the mere result of the operation of laws, instead 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



28S Ancient and Modem Commentaries [Jannary, 

of being the pure creations which they are,— even the same spirit 
has entered the domain of Scripture, and hewed the living trees 
of inspiration into timbers. 

It is no part of our intention to cast unqualified disparage- 
ment upon the works of modem commentators. The pious 
labours of Henry and Scott in this line, are still most useful — 
more so than most that have followed them. Nor do we deny 
all utility to the modem school, strictly so called, aud which 
has taken its growth from the German exegesis. It is con- 
fessedly of the utmost importance that we should know we have 
the text of Holy Scripture, and that we should be acquainted 
with the power of every word of the same, bo far aa gaence can 
help us, — which we take to be the sum and substance of what 
GTerman scholars have been doing in the matter. As it respects 
the temper of mind in which they — the best of them — have sat 
over their work, may we be saved from it 1 It is only pernicious. 
It will communicate itself to minds otherwise reverent of Holy 
Writ. We hare never known a single instance of a Biblic^ 
scholar having to any extent devoted himself to the study of 
their labours, who has wholly escaped the contagion of their 
irreverent spirit. Neander, Olshausen, and l"holuck we take to 
be the best of the German commentators, but if we are to attain 
to the benefit of their labours only at the expense of losing our 
dread of their irreverence, then it is our hope that we may 
remain in happy ignorance of that benefit. But now, both as it 
respects the strictly modern esegetical school, and the less modem 
"evangelical" expository schools of BibliqaJ interpretation, we 
feel compelled to say of the whole of them, that on the score 
of a profound and fruitful comprehension of the inspired Word, 
they are well nigh infinitely behind the Fathers. We do not, 
as we have said, put down the labours of the modem commenta- 
tors at nothing; we cannot beheve that any one generation has 
been without some useful cotemporary helps for the understand- 
ing of Holy Scripture, and we may hope that the toils even of 
infidel lexicographers shall be made in some way to contribute 
good service — we would thankfully admit the portion of good in 
all — but we must maintain that in comparison with what the 
patristic commentators attained to, the whole body of the modem 
is but a portion— a fragmentary and superficial portion. The 
richest comment of the evangelical school has never found Christ 
in the Canticles as Theodoret has — all that has been written on 
St. John is fractional and superficial indeed, when compared with 
St. Augustine. What the modern way of interpretation is to 
remit in, we cannot tell, — we hope for the best ; but that it shall 
result in much, except as it goes back to the patristic method of 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] on the Holy Scriptures. 289 

handling Scripture, we can neTer believe. If we are not at pre- 
sent in a transitional condition, wMch is to be perfected hj a 
reverting to this method, then we are prepared to say, " Let the 
modern comment go, let it pass away for nought, let ua have the 
Fathers and nothing but the Fathers." Perhaps Owen on He- 
brews, and Tholuck on St, John, arc, on the whole, the most clas- 
sical specimens of the post-patristic school ; — we would be willing 
to test the whole question as to the comparative merits of the 
ancient and modem comment, by placing St. Chrysostom along- 
side the one, and St. Augnstiu alongside the other. Or, we would 
be willing to test the question thus — take any commentator who 
has written for the last two hundred years, and he will be found 
invariably the most instructive and the most profound, who ia 
most familiar with the writings of the Fathers. Daill^ on Colos- 
siana is altogether the richest piece of comment which we have 
found among the continental Reformed — its richness is due to its 
familiarity with patristic exposition, a richness which Daille's 
polemieal attitude to the Fathers on other grounds, and the 
hardening dogmatism of his theology, could not wholly exclude- 
A man cannot range in these gardens without bringing away 
something of their fragrance and fruitage — a man may range, or 
tramp rather, over the beaten ground and amid the shingle glare 
of much modern comment, and bring away little but dryness in 
his spirit. What he does gather of " prosperous fruit" will gene- 
rally be some waif from the patristic field. 

Or, yet again, we will offer one more test ; let the devout 
man, and the man that is seeking to become more and more 
devout — let this man, whose devotional food among uninspired 
writers has been drawn from any of those commonly called evan- 
gelical — let him become fajuiliar with the meditations of Au- 
gustine, or the Imitation of A Kempis — and we venture to say 
that in every case the thought of going back to his old favourites 
will be a thought as of dryness, dissatisfaction, and painfulness. 
And now we will go on to say, that for the same reason the same 
result will follow the familiar (uncritical) use of the Plain Com- 
mentary. If the reader's handbook on the Gospels heretofore 
has been among some of the latter works, he will throw the 
volume from his hands and remove it from his house ; if it has 
been in Scott, he will retain his Scott for occasional reference ; 
but he will make the Plain Commentary his vade mecum ; he will 
find the wonderful things of the law set forth in a way he never 
saw before ; he will find words, incidents, and events, surcharged 
with meanings which he had passed over as common things ; he 
will find hia attention drawn to the most edifying meditation of 
divine mysteries j he will find Christ everywhere. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



290 Ancieat and Modem Commentaries [January, 

It may seem hard if we shall say that the Plain Commentary 
differs from the modcra geaerally^ in that it is full of Christ ; 
but such is nevertheless the fact. The beat that can be said of 
the best of modem comments is, that it is full of the doctrine of 
salvation. The Gospels, accordiug to the will of the Spirit, are 
full of Christ ; of the Epistles, it may be said, that they are full 
of the doctrine of Christ. The Gospels never leave us without 
the presence of the Lord ; it is of Him that they speak from be- 
ginning to end, and speak in such a way as to keep the person 
of our Kedeemer in constant view. The Epistles may for a 
moment leave the Lord's person, if we may so speak, in order to 
discourse of His work and the effects of it. But only for a 
short mental moment do even the Epistles thus hold the doctrine 
of atonement apart from the person of the Saviour. It is true 
that the Apostle to the Gentiles does, in one of his Epistles, stop 
to at^e the question of justification, but he argues in such a 
way as to shew us that this, as well as every other doctrine, is 
nothing apart from His body, whom God raised up. Whatever 
of argumentation is done by inspired writers, upon the work of 
atonement, is so done as to unite that work with the desh of the 
Word, never so done as to divide them. While, therefore, it is 
an obvious and allowable distinction to say that the Gospels give 
US the history of the Lord, and the Epistles give us the doctrines 
of salvation ; yet it must ever be borne in mind that no inspired 
writing gives any doctrine of salvation apart from the person of 
Christ ; that the substance of the Gospels is the substance of the 
Epistles; that the beginning, middle, and end of the one is that 
of the other ; Jesus Christ, of the seed of David, the Son of God, 
crucified for our sins, raised for our justification; God manifest 
in the fiesh, made manifest by the church in the saints. In ac- 
crediting, then, to the modern comment a fulness of the doctrine 
of salvation, we must not be understood to admit that it has this 
fulness in a way analogous to the inspired Epistles. It has it 
somewhat as the early chapters of the Epistle to the Komans 
would have it, had the doctrine of the resurrection and of baptism 
been left out. The modern comment has separated the doctrine 
of the atonement from the person of the Lord. Of this, there 
can be no more certain evidence than the fact that we find so 
many of its readers who can speak much of Christ, and yet have 
little abiding impression of the fieah of the Son of Man. We 
narrate a simple fact, when we declare that we were once put to 
it, and found it no easy labour to help an aged believer, who had 
been living upon the " doctrine of justification," to realize her 
Christian hope as existing in that body which Thomas handled. 

The doctrine of salvation is tied to the person of Christ, in 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



I860.] on the Holy Scriptures. 291 

the Epistles, by means of the doctrine of the church and sacra- 
ments. We are justified by the f^tb of Him, into whom we are 
baptized. Now, it is for ever impossible for the critical method — 
and sucb is the method of all unpatristic comment — to hold fast 
to this use of the church and sacraments. Nay, it is impossible 
for the critical mind to hold fast to the meaning of a New Testa- 
ment symbol. How can anything short of faith manage with 
such sayings as, " I am the vine, ye are the branches." " Inas- 
much as ye have done it unto the least of one of these, ye hare 
done it unto Me?" The church, Christ's body; do lhi» m re- 
membrance of Me ; baptized into His death, burial, and resurrec- 
tion; these are the very instruments of the true comment, but 
these are the very instruments which the critical comment cannot 
possibly manage. It is possible to conceive such a commentator 
being doctrinally orthodox on the separate questions ; it is not 
possible to conceive of his doing otherwise than laying each 
separate doctrine carefully away in a box by itself. Nothing 
short of a spirit of impUcit faith in the words of inspired Scrip- 
ture can understand that every verbma Dei of Holy Writ, is 
verbum Deus of the Holy Gospel ; and such alone is competent 
to make a comment which shall be to any adequate degree a 
counterpart of that concerning which it undertakes to speak. 

Take a single phase of this vast subject — that of the fact of 
our Lord's resurrection. Now, what modem comment makes 
any such use of this fact as the inspired writers of the Epistles 
made? What substantive, ever-present place, for example, has 
the fact of Christ's risen body, in the scheme, as now held, of 
justilication by faith, or of the emotional sense of the experience 
of grace? Have we not heard thousands of sermons on justifi- 
cation and the new birth, that gave the hearer no bodily Christ 
— that left him with an abstract of the doctrine of salvation? 
And is it not to this abstract that but too often the name of 
Christ is given? The one word of invitation to sinful men, by 
the Oospel, is, " Come unto Me and be saved." Now, if any 
man think he can discuss the doctrine of the atoning work of 
Christ, and make it clear for men, otherwise than by discussing 
the same in connexion with the very person of Christ, let him 
know that he is undertaking that which was not undertaken by 
inspired writers, and that he is assuredly dividing what God has 
joined. Such doctrine must tronble men's souls. Whoso leaves 
a man with a doctrine of salvation which is not the doctrine of - 
Christ's person, assuredly he leaves the man in a dry spot. And 
this is what the Plain Commentary does not do, but does its 
opposite to a wonderfully successful degree. It strikes us with 
constant wonder that any modem mind has been able so gene- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



Z9Z Andent and Modem Commentttries [Januaiy, 

rally to attain to the patristic method. We would far rather 
put this volume into the hands of a person anxiously inquirJDg 
after the way of salvation, than any volume of sermons or manunl 
of directions we have seen. And for the same reason we ahould 
rejoice to see it in the hands of every one who is in any way 
csiled to give religious teaching — parents, pastors, and trainers 
of Sunday-school classe*. 

The other kind of teaching, doctrinal teaching, so called — 
doctrinal teaching done in any other way than that which the 
Plain Commentary follows — is always exposed to the danger of 
leaving the individual with a mere mental abstract of the truth ; 
with a formula, instead of the reality. However useful doctrinal 
formulas may be in theology, they are of little use in holy living. 
It is assuredly of use to know that we are justified by ^ith ; it 
is of no use to know the doctrine, if we hold it apart from Him 
into whom we are baptized. Each and every doctrine of salva- 
tion possesaea substantive truth only in Christ — the doctrine, or 
the preaching, or the thinking of it, which does not draw the 
individual to Him, is an empty beating of the air. "O that I 
might get near Him, that I might touch but the hem of His 
garment, that He would give me that living water, that He would 
give me His flesh to eat ;" these are the demands of the universal 
heart of man in his time of need ; and these are demands which 
no mere doctrine of salvation can ever satisfy. It is the " mystical 
man," namely, the spiritual, which makes these demands; and 
the mystical man is that very man which perishes, if it have not 
reality and fact given to it. Of this word, mystical, we shall 
attempt no further definition than merely to say that it always 
and invariably has its foundation in that which is most express, 
actual and real ; and that it is always destroyed by substituting 
a thought in the place of that foundation. Now, there is a 
system of religious teaching, the immediate object of which is 
to set forth union with Christ^ — and there is a system, the im- 
mediate object of which is to set forth union with the doctrine 
and experience, so called, of salvation. The one system makes 
constant use of the personal history of the Lord, and of His 
personal representatives, such as the church, the sacraments. 
His presence in the saints, in the poor, in the maimed, in httle 
children. The doctrines with which this system operates, will be 
the doctrines of the creed; which doctrines are remarkable in 
this respect, that they cannot be dealt with apart from the person 
of the Hedeemer. The other system makes httle real use of the 
personal history of the Saviour; scarcely any of the doctrine of 
His person. It rather esteems such kind of teaching to be un- 
profitable, possibly unspiritual. It would judge it more salutary, 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] on the Holy Scripturet. 293 

for example, to preach a course of sermons on the attributes, 
abstractly considered, than to shew forth the character of the 
Crodhead as it shines in the face of Jesua Christ. It prefers 
thinking about " experieDces," to meditating on Christ. It is 
more at home with the clouds of Sinai than with the child in 
Bethlehem. It takes more naturally to the Sahbath than to the 
day of the Son. The feet that the air we live in has felt the . 
movements of the incarnate Word, has no reality for it. It 
prefers to go back to the " Word made fleah," and to pass by the 
" Word made fleah," as if there were anything which has been 
made known to us of God, out of Christ. Of course this system 
makes little use of the church as Christ's body, or of the sacra- 
ments, or of the poor, or of sufferers, or of children, or of the 
things of the natural world and of providence, as His bodily and 
personal representatives. Indeed, it has no conception of the 
symbol, " The church Christ's body," other than as a figure of 
speech ! This, too, the system which complains of the fignrative 
comments of the Fathers I Now, we say that the system which 
thus sets forth the doctrine of Christ, must, in the nature of 
things, often impart the figure of the doctrine without imparting 
any substantial symbol of the reality; in a word, must leave the 
individual with a subjective notion, to which he gives the name 
of one who is the Son of God. We have no difficulty in saying 
that such is a most unwholesome system of teaching. If any 
man think he have warrant for it in the doctrinal teachings of 
the Epistles, let him see if he can find an Epistle without the 
church, the sacraments, the presence of Christ in the saints, and 
in the world ; let him consider that solemu charge of the apostle, 
especially claimed to be doctrinal, " Remember ihalJesta CkrUt, 
of the seed of David, was raised from the dead according to my 
Gogpel." The Plain Commentary throughout proceeds upon the 
principle that the doctrines of salvation are to be promulgated as 
growing out of Christ ; in no sense out of human thought. It 
simply follows the lead of the Gospels on which it is comment- 
ing. And if at any time carried beyond its direct guidance, it 
is careful to proceed in an equal line of direction. When it 
ceases to represent the Lord in immediate connexion with His 
personal history, it goes on to do so in the way directed at the 
close of the Gospels. Neither of these methods can the other 
system adhere to. The personal acts of the Lord stand rather 
in its way; its thought cannot comprehend them, its mind can- 
not dwell upon them, it is so accustomed to ideas that things are 
an obstacle to it, it is so used to figures that forms and deeds 
have little reality for it ; much less, then, can it take its stand, 
in teaching, alongside the sacramental representatives of the 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



294 Ancient and Modem Commentaries [Janoaiy, 

awended Saviour. Not having learned to be at home through- 
out the Gospel history, it caonot be expected to find itself at 
home at its end. He who has not found the Lord in all which 
He has done, will not be hkely to " make disciples " in all the 
way which He has commanded. 

But more than this, and back of this — the modern system, 
{we continue to call it so merely for convenieace, meaning, of 
course, the non-patristic,) this Puritan system, which has effected 
the separation, of which we have been speEiking, between the 
doctrine of salvation and the very person of the Word, has made 
a deeper separation in the Lord's person. It is no part of oor 
intention to do more than refer again to this mysterious subject. 
But we feel that it is at this point more than any other that the 
modern way of dealing with the records of inspiration, and es- 
pecially with the Gospel history, comes short. There are many- 
things which the critical mind can hold together : the two natures 
of our Lord in one divine person, is what it cannot hold together. 
The critical mind, and by the critical mind we mean that which 
places its own reasonings and figures where the words and the 
forms of Holy Writ alone have place and residence ; this critical 
miod, this abstract doctrinal faculty, can never frame its speech 
rightly in speaking of the incarnate Word and wisdom of God. 
It ever speaks as if there were two persons — as if the Son of 
Man were a separate being from the Son of God. The modern 
view could by no conceivable possibility have framed the Atha- 
nasian Creed. 

If for no other reason than that we might learn to think and 
speak rightly of the divine wisdom, would we rejoice to know 
that a copy of the Plain Commentary were in every Christian 
family. We know of no single hook, certainly of no commentary, 
which would promise so much. It is, by the way, a point very 
plainly to be noticed that the right phraseology, as it respects 
the proper view of our Lord's person, has been preserved by 
church writers only. We do not mean to say, that continental 
and denominational theology has entirely lost the true doctrine ; 
we do mean to say, that neither in thought or speech is it fami- 
liar with the truth; nor are we able to see how this shonid be 
expected. We have already made the remark, that to the church 
has been committed the keeping of the mystery. Blot out the 
church, and assuredly there remains no body on earth to say 
that God is three in the unity of one, and that God the Word, 
and Jesus the Lord, are one Christ. And if there were any 
other body to say it, it would say it in vain, because human 
reason is not competent to say it otherwise than in vain. 

There is no fuller test of the modem lack of a right fami- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



1860.] on the Holy Scr^lttrea. 296 

liarity witb the orthodox faith at the most aerious point nnder 
consideration, than the almost ntter incompetency of modem 
comment in dealing with the narrative of our Saviour's life. 
It aeems able to perceive readily the Divine person, only in its 
miraculous acts. The Saviour walkiog ou the water astouuds it 
into adoration ; Jesus walking ou the land, excites no adoring 
wonder; it can only be because it sees in that Jesus some other 
than the person of the Word of God ! Whereas, if it looked 
rightly upon the one Lord, Son of David and Son of God, it 
could never forget that His acta are all divine, all miraculous, 
and all infinitely significant. The right view sees the Son of 
God, our Lord and God, as readily seated at the well of Sychar, 
or standing by the grave of Lazarus in the hands of men, — as 
on the mount of transfiguration. Indeed, with a certain pro- 
founder readiness, inasmuch as it is more wonderful tliat God 
should be seen and handled, than that Christ should take on His 
own glory. It is not, however, with the ordinary human acts of 
our Lord that the critical method owns itself at fault, it is able to 
make no more account of them than if they were the acta of a 
human person ; nor ia it with those acts which are more mani- 
festly divine, for these readily excite its wondering adoration. 
The class of incidents in the life of our Lord, which reveal as 
by a touchstone this most serious imcompeteucy of modem in- 
terpretation, are those confessedly mystical; such as His action 
in curing the blind and the dumb with' earth and spittle, in suf- 
fering virtue to pass through His garment, in taking bread after 
His resurrection. Of these acts, the most the critical system 
can say, is that they are " symbolical ;" and symbolical, on its 
lips, means — the shadow of a shadow — means aimpty nothing. 
The acknowledged mystical acts of our Lord the Modem Com- 
ment can miike nothing of, except by a process which evaporates 
the fact in which alone the mystery consists. And how should 
it be otherwise ? Has it not done the same with the sacrament, 
which is the very instrument of the mystical vision of inspired 
words ? Has it not — we must ask it—has it not done the like 
with the very body? Is it any wonder, then, that it should fail 
to recognize in the human the ever divine, and in the mystical 
the truly natural? It owns the Word, it seea the flesh; the 
Word made flesh it does not always see. It feara to worship 
Jesus in the tomb. It cannot remember that the Word made 
flesh is the substance of the revelation of God. It docs not see 
that Word in the word ; the word of inspiration, the word of 
creation, or the word of providence. It is not aware of Christ 
as at the head of the whole creature, does not behold Him in 
the church, does not perceive Him by the angels. How, then. 



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296 Ancient and Modem Commentaries [January, 

should it not be put to confusion when it hears that irom out 
His own flesh He breathed on tbem the Holy Ghost, or when 
Thomas thmating his hand into that flesh was constrained to say, 
" My Lord and my God." 

When the Word was made flesh He took and made part of 
his Divine person the dust ^f the ground. This earth is not 
the same that it was before the feet of the Son of Man trod 
upon it. This air is not the same that it was before the Son of 
God breathed it. This water is not the same it was before the 
Lord drank of it, and was baptized in it. This bread is not the 
same it was before the Lord ate of it, and took it into his hands 
and blessed and multiplied it. It is gomething that God the Son 
hath taken into himself the creature which he made. What 
that something is, we cannot tell ; but we know that it ia, for 
there is no profouader reality and truth than the body of the 
Lord Jesns. If this be not so, if he rose not &om the dead, then 
are we of all creatures most miserable. Such acts, therefore, 
as our Lord's healing, raising the dead, multiplying bread hy 
the touch of his band; acts which mui<t be symbolized into 
emptiness and made as if they were not by the critical mind, 
are those which are the very household symbols of the faith of 
his Divine person. Every act, proper to the human nature of 
our Lord, was at the same time the act and deed of the Divine 
person of the Word. If no word of God has ever been in vain, 
so no act of Christ was ev&r in vain. The movement of the hand 
of Christ is the movement of that Being by whom the worlds 
were made, in whom all things subsist, and by whom all things 
are reconciled unto God. It is for ever impossible to acknow- 
ledge this, except by the faith which acknowledges our God and 
Bedeemer as one Christ. That faith, which is the truth as t/ i» 
in Jesus, sees equally >n his natural and in his " supernatural " 
acts, one Redeemer, one Lord. 

The entire Gospel history, and every iota of the same, is, to 
faith, the history of Emmanuel. It believes that in that history 
every word of God is real and true. It believes that when the 
body of the Lord came into the world the Son of the Highest 
came. If it has been anxious to let no word of Jehovah, when 
the ministry was that of angels, escape its reverent heed, it will 
be careful most surely that it shall lose no word of Him who is 
the " builder of this house." Every act, and deed, and incident 
of Christ is such a word. It cannot sit when Jesus speaks, it 
cannot stand when Jesus walks, it will not sleep when Jesus 
kneels. It will think, and yearn, and meditate, over everything 
that is said of him, as of a thing the most veritable, real, and 
true, of all the things it can bring into connexion with its own 



.byCOOl^lC 



I860.] on the Holy Scriptures. 297 

being. To its view the whole period and enclosnre of the Gospel 
history, every event, every incident, every movement of the 
narrative — the air, the ground, the fields, the streets, of these 
and all, it is something that the God of heaven came Into per- 
sooal contact with them through the body of his Sesh. And 
such ia, in reality, the virtual belief of the Christian worid. 
Every Christian heart feels that Jacob did a natural thing in 
raising a monument on the ground made holy even by the vision 
of the Son of Man. The holy places of the Holy Land still 
attract the heart of Christendom. The stoutest Puritan that 
ever lived, if he really believed that Jesus of Nazareth was his 
Lord and God, would &U down before the authentic mark of 
the footprint of his Saviour — would have the same feeling in 
view of the marks of the tracings of his finger on the ground, 
which he would have in view of the identical tables written in 
the mount. The air, the water, the ground, the winds and skies, 
the streets and cities, the houses and the tombs, and the whole 
era of the Gospel histories, are, to the earnest and longing vision 
of faith, filled with such tracings, even with the marks of the 
progress of the Son of God from Bethlehem to Olivet, in the 
work of man's salvation ; and every such tracing is of the very 
body, the very hand, the very breath, of God the Lord. 

Is not the Gospel record in some veritable way a counterpart 
of the Lord himself? And is it possible that a book, written 
on the "manly and sensible" scheme demanded by the age, 
could answer the religious needs of nineteen centuries of men, 
possibly to some extent of angels, and of the centuries yet to 
comeP If a mere human book becomes universal in the pro- 
portion it is mystical, as all books containing true poetry are, 
must not every word of the Bible possess a mystical power ? If 
the Word of inspiration had been uttered from the throne of 
God immediately, should we judge that any one of the words 
so spoken were merely a common word? How then any the 
more common, because given through the ministry of angels 
and men? How any more common, because brought by the 
Word himself? And because we say the words possess a mys- 
tical power, do we thereby unsettle their sense and reality ? We 
do not, except to the mind which sees not that the breathing 
which conveyed the Spirit to the Apostles was the breathing 
with which the Saviour slept in the ship ; and the mind which 
dues not so see, makes th6 acts of Christ phantasmal, and much 
of the Inspired Word anecdotal ! It must be remembered that 
these Fathers, who are so charged with myttifying the Word of 
Inspiration because they believed the Spirit of God in every 
word and incident, are the very men who cling to the flesh and 

VOL. X. — NO. XX. X 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



298 Ancient and Modem Commentaries [January, 

body of Christ, in a way which the same school conBidera carnal 1 
No, it was because they believed that the fleeh of Jesus was con- 
ceived by the Holy Ghost, that they believed it to be true flesh j 
and it was because they believed the words of inspiration filled 
with the same Spirit, that they believed them to be real and 
living words. The modem world does not, as it seems to us, 
approach towards having the unconquerable sense of the divine 
reality of either the Word of Inspiration, or of the flesh of the 
Word, which was patent to the Fathers. 

We say that tiie modern process obliterates the letter, sub- 
stituting its own mental conclusions. The patristic method 
finds the solution of the mystery in the letter, and ties it to the 
letter; in a word, the patristic comment on the Word of inspi- 
ration is precisely of the same nature with its comment on the 
person of the Word, It separates not the doctrine of salvation 
from the body of the Lord, it divides not the person of the 
Word from the flesh of the Son of Man. To them it was the 
very words of inspiration, which were spirit and Ufe; it was 
not the human, mental coucluaions concerning these words. 
The Fathers believed that the pronunciation of the inspired 
Word had power ; the modern spirit, where truly Christian, be- 
lieves the same, and gives the Word to the sick when their minds 
are at the weaiest, and to the insane and insensible, who seem 
to have no mind at all ; but it goes directly in the face of its 
own theory in so doing. If the Word of inspiration is not a 
mystical Word, then it can be of no service to the man whose 
mind is not at the point of " manly thinkiog." Thanks he to 
God, that the heart of man need not in all things follow his 
head ; blessed be God that we all know of bumble saints to 
whom the Words of Inspiration are a power which dictionaries 
and grammars know nothing of! Thauks be to God that that 
Book of Psalms, which no mortal man has ever written of with 
full intelligence, not even the Fathers who have done the most 
and best of all, can nevertheless be learnt npon the kuees. But 
let the modem comment undertake to teach one how to pray 
the sixty-ninth Psalm. The most it can do is to divide and in- 
sulate the parts : " This verse is Messianic ; that portion belongs 
to the author alone; the imprecations are prophetic; this is the- 
anthropic&l, that anthropological." On the other hand, hear 
St. Augustine 1 "We that are made the body of Christ, let us 
not fail to recognize our own voice in the Psalms, and other 
Scriptures. Christ — wheresoever in those books, wheresoever 
in those Scriptures, I am jourueyiug and panting for breath, in 
that sweat of our face which is part of our sentence as men — 
Christ is there openly or secretly to refresh me. He only who 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] OR the Hols Scripture: 299 

finds no pleasure in these holy manifeBtations of Christ, is ttaved 
unto fables." The one, in phrases the very sound of which is 
chilling, can but apportion the passage into parts seTsrally dis- 
tinct and conflicting, as it respects any real unity of appropria- 
tion ; the other, with a language whose every word savours of the 
unction of the sanctuary, encloses the whole passage, still sever- 
ally divided, in the one ark, in relation to which the man of 
prayer is both actively and passively Tkeophorus. Even so and 
always is the modem comment divisional throughout, and so it 
must be, because it is under the guide of the intellect; at the 
same time, therefore, it is and must be visionary. The patristic 
alone is constructive and properly edifying, inasmuch as it is 
onder the guide of faith. Union with Christ, by the church 
his body, by the saints his members, by the sacraments his re- 
presentatives, and by faith his gift; this gives the key to its 
method. It believes that every word of Scripture is a word of 
God, that ever)' event and incident concerning the Saviour is an 
event and incident concerning Emmanuel, and with child-like 
faith it tarries by that word and meditates upon the incident, 
until it feels a meaning. Now, this child-like faith in the Word 
of inspiration, is that in which consists the immeasurable pro- 
foundness of the patristic comment, and which is the manliness 
of the full stature of the " child of the kingdom." The patristic 
comment has a sense and consciousness of the very and every- 
where present Word, and wisdom, and goodness of God in 
Christ, the like of which is not known to the modem. It has 
a body, and a spirit, to which the excessive intellectualism of the 
modern is but as a Docetic vision. Not until thought and 
prayer shall have become far more deeply coincident than they 
are in the present age, may we expect the prevailing modem 
comment to give us any real assistance in the Psalms, or on the 
Gospels. 

All that we have said of the patristic comment, we have been 
saying at the same time of the Plain Commentary ; except that 
the Plain Commentary is restrained by the pressure of the times 
from fully carrying out the patristic method. It is, indeed, as 
it seems to ns, rather too cautious, at certain points. We will 
give an example. Speaking of the miracle of the loaves (page 
€91], "It cannot be without an object, that St. John has thus 
reminded us that these were ' barley loaves.' What may that 
object therefore be presumed to beV And why do all the Evan- 
gelists so often state that the loaves were Jive in number ? Are 
we simply to see in the material of the loaves an indication of 
the season of the year : in their numbur, a careful distinction of 
the present miracle from that other occasion when seven loaves 

x2 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[c 



300 Ancient and Modem Commeniariei [Jannar;, 

furnialied forth a banquet for four thousand ? The perfect safety 
of such criticism forcibly recommends it to writers and readers 
of every description; and very far are we from diaparagiug a 
B^Ie of remark which we believe to be in itself perfectly true, 
and which is doubtless highly valuable also. But the question 
arises, la this the whole truth ? May there not have been yet 
another object in the writer's mind for dwelling on the fact that 
the present miracle was wrought with five loaves of barley bread ? 
But we forbear to speculate. It shall suf^ce to have invited the 
reader's attention to the subject, and to have avowed our own 
Bospicions. The reference of the present miracle to the coming 
sacrifice of Christ, and to the benefits consequent thereon, is, 
however, something more than a mere matter of opinion." 

We quote this passage as shewing the author's general care- 
fulness in the above description of symbolism, and at the same 
time to enter a protest against the times, which necessitate such 
caution on the part of so competent a writer. Suppose that in 
these five loaves, or in the five porches, or in the five books of 
Moaea " the Prophet," or in the five stones which David drew 
from the water of the brook, we are reminded of our own five 
senses, and then of the flesh of the Word to which we are 
united in our baptism, in which we have the keeping of the law, 
and conquer Satan, and have our healing, and live the life of 
grace ; is (Aw of no utility ? One certainly would not make the 
doctrine of the Incarnation to grow out of the number five; 
hut in a book which is characterized from Genesis to Ilevelation 
by mystical numbers, one is certainly at liberty to draw all pos- 
sible edification from them. It is not mystification so to do, it 
is reverence, and the very highest good sense. Or suppose, in 
reading the other miracle of the loaves, the number seven 
should remind us that He who wrought with the ^ue, is one with 
Him by whom the world was made ? Again, we ask, have we 
gained nothing ? Is it nothing if a number has brought ua 
nearer to the truth that Qod and man are one Christ ; that by 
the flesh he gives, the world hath fife; that he has overcome the 
Goliath who for "forty days" has been accuraing our souls? 
The comment which denies us, this is the comment that sees no 
Spirit in the wind, finds no Christ in the water, gives no angels 
to the children, and speaks with a conciliatory beseeching to- 
wards science when it speaks of any miracle 1 We would rather 
he a child and believe all things, than be the grown man who 
can walk upon the earth once pressed by the feet of the Son of 
God, and have a care to diminish miracles ! 

But while the Plain Commentary, wisely, perhaps, for the 
sake of the times, abstains from a considerable portion of the 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] on the Holy Scriptures. 301 

field of patristic sy mboliBm, it does oot by any means iaU to 
find edification from those portions of the inspired record which 
the critical method passes over as mere human accidents in the 
grammar of the narrative. One could make a very instiuctive 
volume of excerpts from the Plain Commentary on parts of the 
inspired narrative, which the general method passes over alto- 
gether. It is, indeed, this characteristic of the book which 
makes it so singularly rich and edifying. And it is this which 
gives it its proper name of "Plain" Commentary, and which 
results in its being so profound. We shall but repeat ourselves 
in saying that it is because it bends over every word as over a 
word of God. It is the same quality which makes the volume 
so exceedingly valuable to the sick. We wish not to go into the 
metaphysics of the matter, but we all know that we become re- 
cipients of truth by very different mental processes ; —and among 
these the act of meditation is confessedly the moat fruitful kind 
of thinking done upon divine things. It is characteristic of this 
act that it w done upon things rather than upon inferences and 
conclusions. Our Saviour is not only the teacher of the way, 
he is the way, — he is truth, and life, and wisdom itself. We 
shall always do well to fix our view on the things of Christ, on 
the concrete forms of divine realities, at least as much as the 
Gk)spels simply followed will lead us to do. It is not upon doc- 
trines that we meditate, it is upon facts, incidents, looks — it is 
npon Christ ; a single, well-rememhered look of a departed friend 
will do more than anything else to bring him to mind. We can 
confidently say that the Plain Commentary is a book never to be 
taken in hand without profit, when we are in that state of mind 
whicb longs for spiritual refreshment, and cannot bear the 
thought of mental agitation. Scott is far too hard a book for 
such a state of mind. Doddridge is a weariness. What, then, 
shall we say of the rest ? The Plain Commentary is a blessing 
for the sick, for those who keep days of private fasting, and for 
all who desire an inexhaustible fund of devotional reading, and 
are tired of the private thoughts even of the pious. We know 
of a Christian lady who lately died a most remarkably pious 
death, from whose hands the Plain Commentary was never ab- 
sent during the period of her illness. For the apace of a year 
she read no other books, studying it thoroughly and verifying 
all the references. We have, in several instances, recommended 
this book to young persons when iu a more than usually serious 
state of mind— and always with the same good eflfect- — that of a 
most cordial interest in its pages, and an expression of gratified 
astonishment at its singular richness and suggestiveness. No 
book we know of will so take the mind by the hand, so to speak, 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



802 Ancient and Modem Commenlariea [JannaTy, 

and lead one forth amidst the things of holy Inspiration. We 
have already compared the word of inspired Scripture to the 
word revealed in creation. He who takes us by the hand and 
points out to us the beauty of natural objects, does more for us 
than the man who reads us a chapter on aathetics — so the 
Plain Commentary does more than the Modem Comment gene- 
rally. Nor are we led under its guidance simply to the little 
rivulets and the narrow spots of the vast scene of the Gospel 
history —we are in the hands of a leader who follows whither he 
ia led— &ni who, with the equal reverence and simplicity of one 
who knows no greater or smaller among the things of God, 
benda over the lily of the valley or lifts his believing vision up- 
ward from the base of the great mountains. For power of state- 
ment as to the great mysteries of godliness, and the practical 
healings of the same, the book is incomparable. If we were 
asked for a volume which should best tell one what may be 
known of the Holy Trinity, the Incarnation, and the practical 
bearing of the whole subject of the atonement, we should un- 
hesitatingly say the Plain Commentary is the best. If we were 
asked what would you recommend a commencing sermonizer to 
do, with a view of enriching his discourses, and of avoiding the 
prevailing complaint of emptiness and tediousness of the modem 
BermoD, we would propose that for the space of a year the 
Plain Commentary, with Augustine on St. John, should be the 
constant study. 

Let us give an instance of the writer's habit of drawing in- 
struction from those parts of the inspired narrative which we 
generally pass over as having no more than a mere narrative 
force. We will quote a short paragraph from p. 675, where at 
the end of his comment on the fiftieth verse of the fourth chap- 
ter of St. John, he says, — 

" It seems worth pointiog out that as our Savioor abode for ' two 
days' at Sychar, aud then restored the young mau, so also when he 
heard that Lazarus was sick ' he abode two days in the same place where 
he was,' and then announned bia intention of going to ' awake him out 
of sleep.' Were not these acta typical of his own resutrection 'on the 
third <hiy ?' according to that of the prophet, — ' After two days will he 
revive ua ; in the third day he wiU raise ua up, and we shall live in bis 
sight.' " 

Again, we ask, is there nothing edifying iu this — ^is there no 
gain here as compared with the method which finds no remem- 
brancer of Christ in the incidents mentioned? " But it adds 
nothing to the sum of my knowledge of Christ." Nay, but it 
does. It may not add anything which one could write down 
predsely, nevertheless it adds to the sum of your knowledge 



.byCOOl^lc 



I860.] on the Holy Scriptures. 303 

of Christ, whenever you make one more thing, experience, or 
want, to remind yon of him. When you awake from sleep 
and are reminded that of Christ it was said, " I laid me down 
and slept, I awoke, for the Lord sustained me," when you see a 
little child eating bread and are reminded that Christ ate bread 
— ^you have increased the sum of yonr knowledge of Christ. 

Again: test the modern and the patristic comment in the 
following passage. 

" They bring unto Mm one that was dear, and had an impediment in 
his speech ; and they beseech bim to put bis band upon bim. And be 
took him aside &om the multitude, and put his fingers into his ears, and 
be spit, and touched his tongue ; and looking up to heaven, he sighed, 
and saith unto him, Epbphatba, that is. Be opened."' 

The patristic method of dealing with a passage snch as this, 
in which every word is mystical and every word was done, is 
simply this, — it believes the Incarnation to be a reality, namely, 
that the Word, or God, the Second Person of the adorable 
Trinity, was made flesh, so as that God the Son and the 
human nature of Christ are one Lord in the Divine Person of 
the Saviour. It believes, therefore, the band, the finger, the 
month, the spittle, the eyes, the sigh, and every particular part 
of the action, to be the very property and deed of the Second 
Person of the Holy Trinity. So believing, and so kamnff 
learned to believe, the passage became full to overflowing with 
Christ — the Messiah of whom the law and the prophets spoke 
— it was to tbem what the account of the giving of the law is to 
U8, but vnth the Incarnation added! The modem "evangelical" 
comment can make nothing of the passage, because it is too 
rationalistic to realize the terms in which it is given, and it is 
too reverent of the Lord Jesus to make them mythical. It can 
do nothing but pass them by ! And yet not thus can it stnltiiy 
itself at every point — let us again give thanks that it can pray 
these mystic words. It can on that ground cry to the Lord 
Jesus to stretch forth bis right band — to touch the burdened 
heart — to lay his finger on the stammering tongue and lip— to 
breathe upon the fainting spirit — to shed down the perpetual 
dew of his grace. Let us see, then, if the Plain Commentary 
has been able to extract edifying matter from these divine words. 
Alas, that it has to be so cautious — ^alas, that in the Psalma and 
Canticles the features of our Lord should have come to shine so 
dimly, that, having arrived at the reality in the person and 
members of him in whom we live and move, we should be so 
blind to the glory, and so dead to the sweetness of the flesh that 



D,g,l,..cbyGOO^^[C 



804i Ancient and Modem Commentariet [January, 

giveth us our life, — nay, that the fragraoce of his month should 
hare become a canse of offence ! 

"Wherefore did he proceed so to deal with himP Since bodily 
ailment ia the constant type of spiritual infirmity, consider vrbether it may 
not have been implied by this act of our Lord, that the deaf ears are tien 
only effectually unstopped, when they have received into them — been 
penetrated as it were by — the finger, which is only another name for the 
Spirit of God ; as was eiplained in the notes on St, Lake si. 20. Con- 
sider whether our Saviour, by this act of hia, may not have been doing in 
symbol, what he is elsewhere declared to have done in reality, — when it 
is said of the eleven apostles, ' then opened he their under standing.' Fur- 
ther, by transferring the moisture of his own divine mouth, twice to the 
eyes— once to the lips — of an afflicted creature, was he not satis^ng, 
symbolically, those well-known petitions of the Psalmist, — 'Openthoa 
mine eyes, that I may see the wondrous things of thy law ;' 'Thou ahalt 
open my ^ps, Lord, and my mouth shall shew thy praise f Were not 
those two acts an indication— the one, that 'the commandment of the 
Lord ' (' the tBord of ki» Hps ') ' is pure, enlighleniHg the eyes ;' the other, 
that ' the tongue of the stararaerer is ready to speak plainly,' when the 
Bedeemer hath fulfilled his covenant, — namely, that he will^u^ hi» Spirit 
tn tie mouth of the seed of Jacob for ever."' 

After commeDtitig on the iucident of our Lord's looking np 
to heaven, the writer proceeds to remark concerning that which 
ia said " He sighed," — 

" This is more dif&cult to explain. But since, at the rising of Lazarus, 
our Saviour is said to have not only ' wept,' but also to have groaned in the 
spirit, and been tronhled ; and since the occasion seems then to have been 
the tears of Mary and of the Jews who came with her, joined to the grief 
of his own hnmsn heart for Lazarus, his friend ; may it Aot be that a 
feeling of compassion (eieited by some unrelated circum steppe) occasioned 
the sign of external emotion here recorded by the Evangelist ? ' Hia notice 
of it will be felt to be the more affecting when it is conpled with St. Paul's 
assertion of our Lord's fellow-feeling with his creatures, and especially 
when the origin and history of physical evil is considered. This last 
remark, indeed, suggests that the human sympathies of the Saviour were 
co-extensive with human sufferings and sorrow; and, (as it is said in 
another place,] that ' his tender mercies are over all his works,' to the 
end of time. So that the sigh of ' the first-bom among many brethren,' 
here recorded, was expressive of his pity for every other child of Adam 
who shall be similarly afflicted for ever." 

It strikes us that these words promise to be words of com- 
fort to the deaf to whom they may come, and that even those 
who theoretically recoil firom such a mode of interpretation, will 
devotionally press the same to heart what time they feel them- 

' Plasn ComiBeniary, p. 8!6. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



1860.] on the Holy Scriptures. 805 

selves, by reason of infirmity, hardened in spirit. It also seems 
to us that such interpretation exalts the dignity of the Saviour, 
and is according to the analogy of faith, from beginning to the 
end of Holy Writ. The passage in hand also reminds us of the 
one point we are seeking to make in our entire discassion of this 
subject — that it is by patient meditation on the narrative given, 
every word of which is divine, that the moat fruitful and salu- 
tary views of Holy Scriptures grow op in the mind. Take the 
inspired words, "He sighed and looked up to heaven" — let one 
think of them — and meditate upon them — especially let one who 
is burdened in spirit do so — let him dwell upon the image of that 
Saviour, of whose body he is a member, as so doing — and will it 
not help the mau in bis sorrows, will it not add to his know- 
ledge of Christ? It certainly strikes us that any Christian ob- 
jector to the patristic method, if set in the midst of infidel rea- 
Boners to defend the truth, would be glad enough to implore the 
Lord Jesus to lay his finger on his lips, nay, to touch his tongue 
with the moisture of his Divine mouth. Just what it means, 
that the holy spittle from the incarnate Word should have been 
applied to the flesh of the elect, we may not know, but since the 
incarnate Word did himself so apply it, and since God the Holy 
Ghost has taken care that we should know it, we might suppose 
no one of Christ's worshippers should find difficulty in thinking 
of it — we know that no one, who had learned to find Christ in 
the Book of the Law, the Prophets, and the Psalms, as the 
Christian Fathers may teach as, would ever stumble at such a 
record in the Holy Gospels. 

We will indulge in one more extract. The author is com- 
menting on St. Luke x. 42, 43. 

*' Mary had chosen one thing : Martha was troubled about mmijr. 
The double repetition of her name ia a note of special eamestDess.'' 

" He reads the Goapel to little purpose nho finda here aothiug beyond 
the account of two siatera, — one engrossed with worldly business, the 
other devoted to religion ; of whom one incurs rebuke, and the other 
commendntion. Martha is a great aaint, no less than her sister; and St. 
John's record ia express, that ' Jesus loved Martha.'' She is here en- 
gaged in the active service of Christ, and doubtless had chosen for her- 
self a very blessed portion, when she determined to miniater to the human 
want of her LoKu. Behold, he has journeyed, and is weary, and ' hath 
not where to lay his bead.'/ She has invited him to her dwelling, and he 
has come to bless ' her bouse ' with his presence. Shall she not esert 
herself in an hour like this T and by the pains ahe takes to entertain him 
well, seek to testify the largeness of her gratitude, and love, and joy F If 

' St. John li. 6. 



D,grt,..cbyCOOl^[C 



806 Ancient and Modem Commentaries [January, 

hospitality be ever honourable^ how much more on an occasion like the 
present 1 

" Not until she aeeka to draw her sister away from Chbibt, therefore, 
is a syllable addressed to her in the way of reproof. The act of hospi- 
tality, which so occupies her, cannot but be most acceptable in the eyes 
of her Divine guest, who says not, that she has chosen s bad part, bttt 
only that Mary has chosen a belttr. 

" ' fFiy better f asks Augustine. ' Because it thaU not be taken 
auay from her' Prom thee, the burden of busiueaB shall one time be 
taken away, for when thou comest into the bearenly country, tboa wilt 
find no stranger to receive with hospitality. But for thy good it shall be 
taken away, that what is better may be given thee. Trouble shall be 
taken away, that rest may be given thee. But in the meantime, tkrm art 
yet at sea ; thy bister is in port.' 

"These words prepare us for another remark of the same great 
writer ; namely, that Sfartha was occupied, as the Church of Cbbist is 
occupied here below, in the active service of Chbist ; Mary, as the same 
Church will be engaged hereafter in heaven, — in devout adoration of his 
perfections. Our Fathers in the faith delighted in taking a somevrhat 
similar view of tlie entire transaction, — when they pointed out that these 
two sisters respectively symbolize the active and the contemplative side of 
the religious life ; both excellent— yet the contemplative the more excel- 
lent of the two ; for it is ' that good part which shall not be taken away,' 
— but rather endure throughout the ages of eternity, and become per- 
fected by the presence of him who is ils object.* The practical life has 
its own honours, and its own reward. Those who pursue it are only then 
to be checked, when they would cast blame on the conduct of such as 
have chosen the Word of OoD for their study,' and Chbist himself for 
their portion."-' 

It ia time for us now to confess that all the above qnotations 
&om the Plain Commentary are of passages objected to in a 
late review of the work, and have been made accordingly with 
the view of shewing what amount of legitimate and edifying 
comment the passages in question might contain. It would be 
impossible for us to attempt to set forth the merits of this re- 
markable book, by way of a selection of extracts of our own. 
We have never read one page of the work without profit and 
delight, — we could not make selections where all is ao excel- 
lent. For one who has never used the work, and is desirous of 
knowing what it is like, we would say, turn to any page in the 
Comment on the Gospel of St. John. For one who would become 
acquainted with most of its characteristic excellencies, without a 
regular reading, we would say, take the review of the work in 

* Bom. xii. 13 ; 1 Tim. iii. a ; Titns i. 8 ; Heb. xii!. 2 ; 1 Peter iv. 8. 

» Compare 8t. John xvl. 23. 

I Pa. cxix. 18, 24, 64, 72, 97, 103, 105, 137, 162, etc. 

i Pi. xvi. 6 ; Ixxiii. 36j cira. 57 ; oilii. 5, aic., etc. Plain OommenUiry, p. 493. 



.byCOOl^lC 



I860.] on the Holy Scriptures. 307 

the April mimber of the Protestant Quarterly, and torn sncces- 
aively to every passage, against which the reviewer has brought 
his objections, and read the passage through. We make the 
proposition in no spirit of disrespect towards the Quarterly's 
article. There is good reason in some of its objections, and 
some reason in most — and as they go over a considerable por- 
tion of the volume, a reference to the places will make the reader 
acquainted with the general character of the commentary, and 
at the same time shew what degree of force the objections 
really possess. 

The review in question contains one sentence, at which we 
must be allowed to express unqualified surprise and regret. In 
the thirty-fourth verse of the nineteenth chapter of St. John's 
Gospel, it is written — -" But one of the soldiers with a spear 

fierced his side, and forthwith came thereout blood and water." 
n the thirty-fifth verse — the verse following — it is written, 
"And he that saw it bare record, and his record is true; and he 
knoweth that he aaith truth, that ye might believe." 

One of the most popular, and one of the most pernicious of 
modem notes on the Gospels, has a&med of this remarkable 
passage, that what is here called water " appeared to be such to 
St. John," hut was in reaUty a "serous matter resembling 
water ;" and that the " effect was a natural one, and would follow 
in any other case I" Of language such as this, the author of 
the Plain Commentary says, that they who use it " know not 
what they say." We should suppose that every orthodox be- 
liever in inspired Scripture would agree with him, and say at 
least as much. Surely, it cannot be the deliberate purpose of 
the author of the review in question to take aides with an inter- 
pretation which is no whit short of downright, wilful rational- 
ism? And yet, he says, according to the reading of the sen- 
tence referred to, that " he [the author of the Plain Commentary] 
might have thrust aside, with somewhat less of abhorrence, the 
critical comments of men who have studied the Scriptures in no 
undisceming or profane spirit," and "who may have thought 
they discovered a natural cause for the effect which followed the 
wound inflicted by the spear, without supposing they were to be 
dismissed with the sentence, 'they know not what they say,'" 
If the affirming that to be a resemblance of water which the 
Holy Spirit, with a solemnity of iteration which will scarcely 
find a parallel in the records of inspiration, baa declared and 
prononnced to be water, is not a studying of the Scriptures 
with a profane spirit, we would aak what is. Is this a quality 
of that " Biblical criticism" which shall not only be diligent, 
reverential, and learned, but alao open, honest, wise, and coro- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



808 Ancient and Modem Commentaries [January, 

Srehenaive; which shall not bo seek foi obscurer meanings and 
oubtful and distant relations as to pass by such as are broader 
and more obviouSj and which shall never speak of a " pious sup- 
position," and seek to exercise a kind of holy ingenuity where 
the question is but one of " truth ?" If so, may we keep to 
the suppositions of the Fathers, which at least are pious, and to 
the ingenuities of the Fathers, which at least are holy. 

A short paragraph of the commentary will help us to a con- 
cluding remark. The comment is upon the words, " Had ye 
believed Moses, ye would have believed me ; for he wrote of me." 
" A wondrous declaration, truly, if we consider who is the speaker.* 
O ! to have known what he said on this subject to Cleopas and his com- 

ftuiioDS as they went to Emmaus I But the books of Moses sre in onr 
snds. Wiere then does he write of ChkistP Shall it suffice to appeal 
to ten or twenty places in the Pentateuch — such as the reader will And 
enumerated at the foot of the page?' Surely those places do not come 
up to the largeness of our Lord's statement I Where does Moses say that 
'Chbist should suffer?' or 'that he should be the first that should rise 
from the dead ?' or that he ' should shew light unto the people, and to the 
Gentiles?' And yet St. Paul found aome, if sot all of these things in 
' Moses.'*" The plain truth is, that ve do not iiorovffhljf tmdentand Uff 
Siile : nnd the next best thing to understanding it, is to know that we 
understand it not."" 

It is very certain that we do thoroughly understand the 
Bible exactly in proportion as we understand it to testify of 
Christ. It is equdly certain that, for some reason, the patristic 
method of interpretation did find Christ spoken of in the Scrip- 
tures far more frequently, and, we think, far more thoroughly 
than the modem ; " the cross of Christ shines dimly " in the 
Modem Commentary. Our own belief is, that the reason of the 
difference between the two methods is to be found in the fact, 
that the ancients had a seme of the Church which we have, com- 
paratively, lost; which, in our case, seldom deepens to more 
than a sentiment. They use familiarly a language concerning 
the church as Christ's body, concerning the elect as Chrisfa 
members, which strains our spirits to comprehend ; except it be 
at such time as our spirits are at the point of prayer. Here, 
indeed, we can feel, what the Fathers were able to write ; but 
what the prevalent Biblical apparatus gives little assistance in. 
We will venture to say of all who make the Psalms their daUy 
manual, that they have found the Lord in a thousand places 

* Compara 8t. John i. 45 ; Bt. Lake xziv, 27 : Acts xxTiii. 23. 
' Gen. iii. 15; lii. 3; sviii. 18; zzTi. 4; zlix. 10; Namb. xzi. 9; Dent, 
ivia. 15, 18. 

- 8ee Acts xivi. 23, 23. ' Plain Commentary, p. 637. 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] on Me Hoiy Scripturea. 809 

where do Modem Commentary finds him. And this remark 
Boggeats aaother consideratioD, which must be taken into the 
account in seeking to make out the reason of the profound Mes- 
sianic characteristic of the patristic method; those Fathers com- 
mented on the Bible^om their knees; modern scholars, for the 
most part, comment on the Bible ^om tbetr desks. 

This much, however, we can distinctly perceive as to the 
modus operandi of the patristic method, that it sought after 
Christ in Holy Scripture by the aid of obscure intimations, of 
remote allusions, of those identical things which we call the 
"little things," and the "aatural order" of the narrative — iu 
a word, by the aid of that very class of things which we cannot 
doubt our Lord himself brought to view for the two disciples 
on the way to Emmaus — cannot doubt, because such is the 
almost universal character of the Messianic verifications given 
in the New Testament. Let one take up the argument of our 
Lord's Messiahship with a view of convincing a Jew, and see 
what he would do if required to abstain from the so-called 
" small things " of the prophetic fulfilment. It is at this point 
especially that the intellectual pride of the modem method, 
which goes by the name of sense and manllDess, finds its chief 
cause of ofi'ence, and it is at this point it must return to faith 
and let the child teach the mao. When modem criticism has 
bowed in reverent wonder, as it should, over the mystery of god- 
huess ia the manger at Bethlehem, over the verification of pro- 
phecy in the unparted garment ; when it remembers how its own 
heart has been sustained by what these Divine lips uttered con- 
cerning the sparrow's fall, and considers how the " small things" 
of the Word of inspiration have ever been the very strongholds 
of the whole earthly body as it bears forward under its earthly 
trials — then perchance may arise the thought, " What as yet have 
we, or could we bear, more than intimations of heavenly and 
eternal verities," — and so may it come to take a wise and salu- 
tary heed of that which is written, " If I have told yon of 
earthly things, and ye believed not, how could you believe if I 
told you of heavenly ?" then will it be careful never to call that 
common which baa been sanctified by Ood, or that little which 
has come forth of his Son. 

When such shall come to be the happy case with it, it will 
begin to find that its comment will make more of the analogy 
of faith than of the analogies of language, it will trace a pro- 
phetic hint with greater earnestness than now it traces a verbal 
form, and it will find the Lord Jesus in that very word which 
aa yet it only takes to be one of the " parts of speech." The 
result will be th^ the modern comment shall become truly edi- 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



810 Theoriet of BibUcal Ckronology. [January, 

lying where now it is "exceediag dry;" it will be apiritnally 
profound, where now it ia intellectually vain and superficial ; it 
will be a delight where now it is a wearineas ; it wUl be every- 
where as a natural, rich and &nitfiil garden, where now it is for 
the moat part an artificial and most uosatisfyiiig plot. Of the 
truth of this the Plain Commentary furniBhes, we think, a most 
remarkable and triumphant illustration. It is our belief that, 
if we can be brought to that habitual meditation on the life and 
actions of our blessed Lord to which these precious volumes 
invite us, we shall be brought to that very thing which most we 
need, and in which the age we live in helps us forward least. 
May the Plain Commentary soon find a place in the hands of 
every family of the church ; we are sure its " comfortable words " 
will soon find their place in every heart. 



!FHI»EIES OF BIBLICAL CHKONOLOaT/ 
Wh£N Joseph Scaliger, animadverting on Eusebius, burst forth 
in a paroxysm of chronological enthusiasm, " Hail, venerable 
Olympiads, ye guardians of time, ye vindicators of the truth of 
bistoiy, ye bridlers-in of the fanatical licence of chronologista I" 
he did no more than was necessary, as time has proved; for the 
present age has witnessed a most determined attempt to subvert 
the commonly received chronology, on which Scripture is in 
some measure silent, and which a strict comparison between 
history and the great era of Grecian chronology can alone enable 
ns to refute. 

Before entering upon an examination of Mr. Parker's mode 
of setting aside so well established a portion of chronoli^y as 
the six centuries preceding the Christian era, it will be well to 
notice the conclusions at which the several authors whose works 
head onr present article, have arrived respecting the date A.if., 
and our nearness to that important epoch of the world, of which 

• Tht Amaii of the Old and Ne%e TeitaniaU. By Jtmea Usher, An±bubop cf 
Armagh Bad Primate of all Jrclaod. 

J New AnalyoM of Chrmutlogy. Bj the Rev. William Hala, D.D. 

Fe»H HellmiEi el Faeti Romani. Bj Henry Fynes CUnlon. Eiq., MA. 

Sacred and Prqfaae Chronology. By J. W. Boianquet. 

Chronptogy. By Fraake Parker, M.A., with an extended table in fulio. 

The Parian Chronicle, nibvertwe i^f the Common ChrvsrOlogy. By FraDke 
Parker, M.A. 

The Firal and Second Advent. By the Bev. B. W. Sanie, HJi. Cb»ptera li. 
and ui. Chronolo^. 



D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] Theoriet of Biblical Ckronoloffy. 811 

bishop Newton' makes mention as " an old tradition both among 
Jews and ChriBtians, that at the end of 6000 years, the Messiah 
shall come and the world shall be renewed, the reign of the wicked 
one shall cease, and the reign of the saints upon earth shall begin." 
And though as regards the pioptetical conclusion to which 
tradition seems to point, we may say with Irteneus, "It is safer 
and surer to wait for the completion of the prophecy than to 
conjecture and to divine about it, as when the end cometh we 
shall know better whence to date the beginning," we cannot 
forget what one, whom Scripture has pronounced to have been 
" full of the Holy Ghost and of faith" {Acts xi. 24), though bis 
writings may never have been esteemed canonical, hath tangbt 
respecting the hidden meaning of the demiurgic creation — 
" Consider, my children," says St. Barnabas, " what that signifies 
— God finished them in six days : — the meaning is this, that in 
6000 years the Lord God will bring all things to au end."" 

Hence the natural anxiety which has been manifested by so 
many to ascertain the age of the world since the creation of man. 
How wide the variations of different authors are in respect to 
the date of the creation may be seen iu Hales' New Anab/tis of 
Chronology, where upwards of 120 different opinions are given, 
and which the writer says " might be swelled to 300," while in 
bis own list the difference is so great that the first exceeds the 
last no less than 8268 years. 

Time has sufficiently refuted the calculations of the greatest 
number of these chronologers, if the declaration of St. Barnabas 
be accepted as true, and that of Hales among the number; for, 
having adopted the chronology of the LXX. in preference to 
that of the Hebrew text, he dates the Christian era a.m. 5411, 
and consequently the 6000 years would have terminated accord- 
ing to that estimate, a.d. 1589. It is unnecessary to enter upon 
a consideration of the reasons for preferring the chronology of 
the Hebrew text to that of the LXX., as it has already been 
so well done by Chnton in the appendix to vol. i. of his Faati 
Hellenici, but we may remark incidentally that, if the chrono- 
logy of the LXX. be accepted, we make Methuselah live fourteen 
years beyond the deluge, which is contradicted by the express 
statement of Scripture. So that while we think with St. Augus- 
tine "it is incredible that such laudable and honourable fathers 
as the LXX. were, would record an untruth," we would accept 
his solution of the discrepancy between the two as follows ; " One 
might the easier believe that the error was committed iu the 



D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



812 T^eoria of BibHcat Chronology. [Jannaiy^ 

transcriptioD of the copy from the Ftolomies' library, and so tfaat 
it had a successive propagation throagh all the future copies. 
This may be well suspected indeed in Methuselah's life, and ia 
that other, where there ia twenty-four years' difference in the 
whole sum. But in those where the fault is continued, so that 
one hundred years in the one are still overplus before the gene- 
rations, and wanting after it; and in the other, still wanting 
before, and overplus after, still agreeing in the main ; and this 
continued through the first, second, third, fourth, fifth and 
seventh generations; this professes a constancy in error, and 
proves rather an industrious endeavour to make it bo, than any 
negligent omission to let it pass so. Thus the difference in the 
Greek and Latin from the Hebrew where those years are first 
wanting, and then added, io order to procure the consent of both, 
is neither to be called the malice of the Jews, nor the diligence 
of the LXX., but the transcriber's error who first copied it 
from the Ptolemies' library.'" 

Archbishop Usher, whose system of chronology has been 
more generally accepted than any other, and which has been 
introduced in our Bibles, with one memorable exception which 
we shall have occasion to notice in the coarse of this article, 
dates the Christian era, as is well known, a.m. 4004, which 
would make the 6000 years terminate a.d. 1996. Clinton gives 
A.M. 4138 for the Christian era, which would bring the 6000 
years to a close a.d. 1862. Savile makes it four years later than 
Clinton. And Parker, by adopting a.d. 1858 as the termination 
of the sixth millenary, seems to be refuted by the year which 
has passed. 

A tabular statement of the leading dates in Scripture epochs, 
as severally adopted by Usher, Clinton, and Parker, will convey 
to the mind at one view the differences which exist between the 
three. They may be stated as follows : — 



From Adam to the Deluge 1656 1656 1656 

the Birth of Abraham 8008 2008 1948 

„ the Call of Abraham 20S8 20S3 2023 

„ theEiode 2613 2613 2463 

the Buildingof the Temple 2993 3126 3045 

the Fall of Jerusalem 341G 3561 8514 

„ ' the Fall of Babylon 3466 8600 3584 

the ChriBtian Era 4004 4138 4142 

All agree in firing the date of the deluge according to the 
Hebrew text. The first difference respects the date of the birth 

' S«e St. Aug. Dt Cniiati Dei, L xt. ch. 13. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^[C 



I860.] Theories of Biblical Chronology. 313 

of Abraham. Usher and Clintoii agree in placing it when 
Abraham's father Terah was 130 years old, Parker antedates it 
by sixty years, m^ing it to occur when Terah was in his 
seventieth year, which opinion accords with the computation of 
JosephuB.' As Scripture must be our sole reference in this dis- 
pute, we naturally inquire what is therein stated on the subject? 
Abraham removed from Charran to Canaan after his father's 
death (Acta vii. 4) ; and at the time of his removal was seventy- 
five years old (Gen. xii. 3 — 5). Terah died in Charran aged 
305 (Gen. xi. 82). Now 205-75 = 130, the age of Terah when 
Abraham was born, according to Scripture. Usher observes, 
" When Terah had lived sevebty years, there was born to him 
the eldest of his three sons (Gen. xi. 26); and he, not Abram 
(who came not into the world till sixty years after), but Haran, 
father-in-law of the third brother Nachor, died and left a 
daughter married to her uncle Nachor. . . . Sarai, who was also 
called Iscah, the daughter of Haran, Abram's brother (Geu. xi. 
29), was ten years younger than her husband Abraham."-'' This 
confirms the fact that Harau, the father-in-law as well as elder 
brother of Abraham, was sixty years his senior. Clinton remarks 
that " the erroneous date for the birth of Abraham, placing the 
call of Abraham into Canaan sixty years before the death of his 
father, is contrary to Gen. xi. 32 ; xii. 1, 4; and on this account 
in the Samaritan copy the life of Terah is reduced to 145 years, 
that his death might be adapted to the supposed time of the 
call.' Parker meets this difficulty respecting the positive declara- 
tion of Scripture that Abraham left Charran after his father's 
death, by repeated statements that " Acts vii. 4 cannot be cor- 
rect," " must be held to be incorrect,"* a mode of interpretation 
which no chronologer, who allows the unquestioned reading of 
Scripture its proper weight, can for a moment allow. Far better 
to have the simple faith of the old woman, who replied to the taunt 
of the sceptic, that she would believe Scripture if she had therein 
read that Jonah had swallowed the " great fish " instead of the 
reverse, than to attempt to set aside a plain statement of the 
Word of God, by pleading the necessity of its incorrectness. 

Assuming then that the date of Abraham's birth has been 
correctly placed by Usher and Clinton, the next important point 
to ascertain is the true date of that memorable event in the 
history of Israel, the Exode from Egypt. Those two distinguished 
savants Bunsen' and Lepsius' have discussed this subject at 

' Anliq., L e, a. J AtmaU, p. 1. ( F. B., vol. 1., p. 290. 

* See CkroKalogy. pp. 37, 38. 

' Egypl'iplaet in Unitteraal Halorg, i. pp. 171 — 178. 38. 

J Enleitttng, pp. 316—3. 

VOL. X. — NO. XX. Y _, 

D,g,l,..cbyCOO^^IC 



314 Theories of Biblical Chronology. [Jannaiy, 

length, but inaamucli as according to the one, " the Bojoum cS 
Israel in Egypt lasted for 1 440 years," while the other authority 
declares that "only about ninety years intervened from the 
entrance of Jacob to the Esodus of Moses, and about as much 
from the entrance of Abraham into Canaan to Jacob's Exodus ; 
so that &om Abraham to Moses only about 180 years, or if we 
wish to make the most of it, 215 years passed," we are con* 
strained to reject such chronological couclusions, which are alike 
hostile to Scripture and to each other, for it is affirmed both in 
the Old Testament (Exod. xii. 40) and in the New {Gal. iii. 17) 
that "the sojourning of the children of Israel who dwelt in 
Egypt was 430 years," which is clearly explained by the reading 
of the Samaritan pentateucb to include the time they sojourned 
"in the land of Canaan" as well. Hence no difference exists 
between those writers whose chronology we are reviewing in 
respect to the interval between the c^l of Abraham and the 
Exode. It is only in regard to the date b.c. that their differences 
are manifest. Thus Usher dates the Exode B.C. 1491; Parker, 
B.C. 1689; Clinton, b.c. 1625 ; Savile, b.c. 1620. The last two 
are so nearly in accord, that we may accept them as one and 
the same. If a preference may be given to the date of the latter 
for the Exode, it must rest upon his deduction from Scripture 
for the years which intervened between that event and the 
Christian era agreeing with the chronology of Julius Africanus, 
who places the Exode in the reign of Amos, the first king of the 
eighteenth dynasty, and which when worked out produces the 
result B.C. 1620. And also the same writer notices a somewhat 
singular confirmation in favour of that date by applying a tradi- 
tion, attributed to some of the early Christian Fathers, that the 
word fia>vtn}i according to the principle of Greek notation repre- 
sents the numbers 1648, and thereby signifies the duration of 
the Mosaic dispensation, which is the exact number of years 
between the first passover at the time of the Exode, b.c. 1620, 
and the last, when "Christ our passover was sacrificed for us," 
previous to the introduction of the Christian economy a.d. 29, 
the year of the crucifixion.* 

The important difference, however, existing between the sys- 
tems of which Usher and Clinton may be considered the most 
eminent representatives, is the number of years which elapsed 
between the Exode and the building of the temple, and which 
necessarily affects the b.c. date of the Exode from Egypt. 
Usher, as we have already seen, dates the Exode B.c, 1491, 
Clinton, b.c 1625, a difference of more than 130 years during 

* See f%ril and Smmd Advrat, pp. 166, 181, 1S6. 

D,g,l,..cbyCOOl^lC 



I860.] Theories of Biblical Chronology. 315 

that period of Jewish history. We read in 1 Kings vi. 1, "It 
came to pass in the 480M year after the children of Israel were 
come out of the land of Egypt, in the fourth year of Solomon's 
reign over Israel, in the month Zif, which is the second month, 
that he began to build the house of the Lord." If the expres- 
sion " in the 480th year " of onr present Hebrew text was clearly 
Scripture, there would be an eud to the question, and Usher's 
B.C. date for the Exode mxiat be accepted as correct. But there 
are two sorts of proof against the present reading. There is 
both positive and inferential proof against it. Josephns writing 
in the first century of the Christian era evidently knew not the 
clause, for be gives 612 years in one place,' and 592 years in 
another," according to our present copies, as the interval netween 
the Esode and the building of the temple. And Ongen, one 
hundred years later, quotes 1 Kings vi. 1, without the disputed 
clause. Jackson' remarks, "That it waa not originally either 
in the Hebrew or Greek text, may with great certainty be in- 
ferred trom the computations of the ancients, both Pagan, 
Jewish and Christian writers — -e.g., Theophilus, the ancient 
bishop of Antioch* says that it appeared from the Tyrian records 
that Solomon's temple was built 566 years after the Exode." 
So Clemens Alexandrinus'' calculatesj apparently from Demetrius 
(a Jewish hbtorian of the third century B.C.) that 592 years 
elapsed between the Exode and the fourth of Solomon. More- 
over we may infer from the New Testament that considerably 
more than 480 years intervened between those two periods. 
St. Paul ia hia speech before the rulers of the synagogue at 
Antioch makes special mention of this very period, which may 
be thus dirided : — 

The Israelites in tlie WildemesB 40 Acts xiii. 18. 

Time not meotioned for dividing the land „ 19. 

To Samuel the Prophet 460 „ 20. 

Saul's reign 40 „ 21. 

Dsvid'sreign 40^ 2 Sam. v. 6. 

Temple began in the fourth year of king 

Solomon 3J 1 Kings vi. 1. 

In all 574 years. 

If we allow seventeen years as the time for dividing the land, 
and the " days of the elders that overlived Joshua," (one of the 
very few conjectural periods of Scripture, some of the Jews in 

' Antiq., II. 10, 1. - Jtiliq., Tiii. 3, I. 

' See Chrmudogieal AnliqutfUt, vol. i., p. 133, eU. 

• M Aatotyc, L iji. p. 31. ' Strom., i. p. 337. 



by Google 



816 Theories of biblical Chronology. [January, 

Seder Olam reckoning it at twenty-eight years,' others at only 
the odd eight years, and a middle and . more probable opinion 
at seventeen years), which St. Paul omita to reckon, we have 
94 years (the difference between 4S0 and 574) + 17 or 111 
years, as the variation between Josephns, who gives 593 years 
(i.e., current or 591 complete), and our present reading of 
1 Kings vi. 1, which dates the building of the temple in the 
480th year after the Exode. Moreover as 111 ia the exact 
number of years comprised in the six servitudes, which are 
recorded in the book of Judges, we may account for the way in 
which the expression "in the ^Oth year" crept into the text, 
by supposing that the transcriber, when introducing a date, 
purposely omitted the mournful period of the 111 years' captivity, 
between the Exode and the building of the temple. Clinton, 
who adopts the longer interval mentioned in our present copies 
of Josephns, viz. 612 years, makes it out by lengthening the 
time forty years, when Joshua, and subsequently Samuel, 
governed Israel, and depressing the last servitude twenty years 
by intermingling it with the length of Samson's rule as given 
in Judges xv. 20, thus raising the whole interval between the 
Exode and the building of the temple, or twenty years more 
than we are able to allow. As this is confessedly the most 
difficult chronological portion of Scripture to settle with perfect 
accuracy, we must be content to refer those who desire to 
investigate such things to the Scriptures themselves, with the 
apostolical exhortation, " Let every man be fully persuaded in 
his own mind." 

As regards the duration of the regal government of Judah 
from the building of the temple until its destruction by Nebu- 
chadnezzar, there is a very geueralagreement amongst the above 
named chrouologers. There are however two exceptions, Parker 
quotes Josephns' to prove that Solomon died at the age of 
nin