xlvi. 13-28) contains historical matter, and predictions about Egypt,

but concludes with the usual promise of the ultimate return of the Jewish nation to its ancestral home.

The last chapter of Jeremiah is purely historical, and, like the historical portions of Isaiah, need not be considered under the prophets; but it must be noted that chaps. l. and li. are not by Jeremiah, being the work of a much later writer, who lived in Palestine, and who composed them to show that the words of the genuine Jeremiah were fulfilled in the destruction of Babylon by the Medes, which was taking place at this time (P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 140 ff.). The small Book of Lamentations over the unhappy fate of Jerusalem, ascribed to Jeremiah, is an artistic attempt to embody the grief of the writer in a song of which each verse begins with a new letter, in alphabetical order.

We pass now to the prophet Ezekiel, a Jew who was taken into captivity with Jehoiachin, and lived at a small town of Mesopotamia. He felt the first prophetic impulses in the fifth year of the Captivity (Ib., vol. ii. p. 322 ff.). At this time the heavens were opened; he saw visions, and the word of the Lord came expressly to him. Such was the nature of his consecration. The first section of Ezekiel extends from chap. i. to xxiv., and contains utterances about Israel before the destruction of Jerusalem. The second section (chap. xxv.-xxxii.) deals with foreign nations, and the third (chap. xxxiii.-xlviii.) holds out promises of restoration.

Ezekiel is very inferior to his great predecessors, Isaiah and Jeremiah. He has neither the fervid, manly oratory of the first nor the pathetic, though rather soft and feminine flow of the second. He takes pleasure in rather coarse images, such as that of the bread baked with human dung (Ezek. iv), that of Jehovah with his two concubines, who bore him sons and vexed him with their licentious conduct (Ezek. xxiii), or that of the child whose navel was not cut, who grew up into a woman, over whom Jehovah spread his skirt and covered her nakedness (Ezek. xvi. 8). And in general, Ezekiel is particularly prone to teaching by means of similes and illustrations. Sometimes he sees visions in which God explains his meaning; at other times he acts in a manner which is designed to be typical of coming events. Thus, on one occasion, he openly brings out his furniture for removal, as a sign to the rebellious house of Israel (Ezek. xii. 1-7).

As in Jeremiah, so in Ezekiel we find traces of hostility towards rival prophets, whom he denounces in no measured terms. It is interesting, too, to observe that there were female prophets in his day, who prophesied out of their own hearts. To them also he conveys the reprobation of the Almighty (Ezek. xiii). The form in which he looks forward to the restoration of Israel and Judah to their homes, is somewhat different from that in which it was expected by his predecessors. In a very singular vision, he relates that his God took him into a valley which was full of bones, and told him that these were the bones of the whole house of Israel. Ezekiel is then informed that God will open the graves of the dead, and cause these bones to live again, and will bring them to the land of Israel. Afterwards, he is told to join two sticks into one, this junction representing the future union of Ephraim and Judah, who are to be gathered from among the heathen, and are to form one nation governed by one king. That king is to be David, who will be their prince forever. God will make an everlasting covenant of peace with them, and put his sanctuary in their midst for evermore. Here the resurrection of the dead, and the return of David, instead of the appearance of a new king, are peculiar features.

An anonymous prophet is supposed to have written Isaiah xxi. 1-10, and another Isaiah xiii. 2-xiv. 23, the latter referring to Babylon, and containing the imaginary exultation of the restored Israelites over the fallen Babylonians. After these fragments we have the work of one who is perhaps the greatest of all the prophets, but who also is unknown to us by name. As the most fitting description we may perhaps call him the anonymous prophet. The whole of the latter portion of Isaiah, from chap. xl. to the end, is his work. The anonymous prophet lived in Egypt. His peculiar conception was that Israel was the servant of the Lord for the peace and the salvation of nations, as Kyros was his servant in war (P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 20 ff.). Alike in beauty of language and sublimity of thought he is supreme among the writers of the Hebrew Bible. He is the prophet of sorrow: yet also the prophet of consolation. Whether by a curious accident, or whether by virtue of a tendency (not uncommon among truly great writers) to withdraw his personality from observation and confine himself wholly to the message he had to deliver, he tells us nothing of himself. Hence he has for centuries been hidden behind the figure of Isaiah, whom nevertheless he surpasses in the purity of his ideal. To him we owe the beautiful passage beginning "Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people," with the description afterwards applied by Jesus Christ to John the Baptist. From him also we have the most exalted conceptions of the Messiah, the moral element in his character being raised as compared with the element of material power, to a height hitherto unexampled in prophetic vision. Take, for instance, this description of his mildness combined with indomitable perseverance:—

"He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench; he shall bring forth judgment unto truth. He shall not fail nor be discouraged, till he have set judgment in the earth, and the isles shall wait for his law" (Is. xlii. 2-4).

It is the anonymous prophet, too, who has given us the familiar passage, "He is despised and rejected of men;" a passage describing the career of a great man whose teachings involved him in persecution and ultimately in martyrdom, but nowise applicable to the Messiah. That a historical incident, known to the writer, is alluded to in this touching account of suffering goodness, admits of no reasonable doubt.

The anonymous prophet is preëminently the prophet of consolation. Living in the days of Kyros and of the restoration of the Temple, he had the elements of soothing speech ready to his hand; and as his predecessors had prophesied destruction and woe, occasionally varied with strains of hope, so he prophesies in strains of hope, occasionally varied with sterner language. It is his especial mission to heal the wounds that have been made in the spirit of Judah. God had indeed forsaken her for a while; but he will now take her back as a deserted wife, who had suffered her punishment. He had hidden his face in a little wrath for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will he now have mercy upon her (Is. liv. 5-7). The concluding chapter of the anonymous prophet contains a magnificent description of the ultimate gathering of all nations and tongues, when Jerusalem will be the central point of human worship, and the glory of God will be seen by all. The picture is not indeed unmingled with darker shades, for great numbers are to be destroyed by Jehovah in his indignation. On the other hand, there is a trait exhibiting the superiority of this prophet to his predecessors in toleration for the Gentiles: namely, the remarkable prediction that some of them also are to be priests and Levites (Is. lxvi. 12-24). The man who could utter this sentiment had made a signal advance upon the ordinary narrow and exclusive notions of the prerogatives of the Jewish race.

It was mentioned that the fiftieth and fifty-first chapters of Jeremiah were added by a later hand. The same hand (in Ewald's opinion) composed the thirty-fourth and thirty-fifth chapters of Isaiah, of which the second describes in very eloquent terms the coming glory, when "the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away" (Is. xxxv. 10). Another unknown writer (Isaiah xxiv.-xxvii.) predicts in the first place the desolation which the Lord is about to effect, and then the happiness of the Jews who will be brought to their own land again, to worship Jehovah in the holy mount at Jerusalem. One of his expressions, "He will swallow up death in victory," has been adopted by St. Paul; another, "The Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces," by the author of the Apocalypse.

The interest of Haggai's prophecy is purely special: it refers to the building of the temple at Jerusalem in the reign of Darius. It was the unexpected obstacles by which the building was hindered that kindled his zeal; he made his five speeches in three months of the same year. Probably he had not seen the first temple, and he left his prophetic work to his younger contemporary Zechariah (P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 177 ff.).

Zechariah also lived in the time of Darius, and dealt principally with the building of the temple (Ib., vol. iii. p. 187 ff.). A series of visions which he professes to see shows how his mind was running upon this absorbing theme; and he even expects the Messiah, whom Isaiah and Jeremiah had called a Branch of David, and whom he more emphatically terms _the_ Branch, to appear at the head of affairs and to carry the works to their completion (Zech., 8, and vi. 12). He supposes that he will then sit and rule upon his throne; a priest will be beside him, and there will be a counsel of peace between these two—the monarch and his ecclesiastical minister (Zech., vi. 13).

It was probably more than half a century later that the short book bearing the title of Malachi was written. The true name of its author is unknown, and that of Malachi, my messenger, was taken by its editor from the first verse of the third chapter (P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 214 ff.). He is not a prophet of a high calibre, as is shown by his denunciation, already quoted, of those among the Jews who offered Jehovah their least valuable cattle. Nor is his conception of the Messianic epoch in any way comparable to that of the great prophets whose works he might have studied. He says indeed that the Sun of righteousness will arise with healing in his wings; but it appears that this healing is to consist in the Israelites treading down the wicked, who will be as dust under their feet. He concludes by announcing the return of Elijah, before "the great and dreadful day of the Lord," and says, in his threatening tone, that this prophet will turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and of the children to the fathers, lest God should come and smite the earth with a curse.

The Book of Jonah, which may have been written in the fifth or sixth century B. C. (P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 233 ff.), is a story with a moral rather than a prophecy. Jonah was desired by Jehovah to preach against Nineveh, but fled from his duty, and took passage in the ship to Tarshish, duly paying his fare. However, when a storm arose, Jonah knew that it was sent as a penalty for his disobedience, and told the sailors to throw him overboard. This they did, but he was swallowed alive by a large fish prepared for the purpose, and remained within it three days. By this lesson he was prepared to execute God's commands, and was accordingly thrown up by the fish on dry land. He preached to the people of Nineveh, as desired, the coming destruction of their city; but when they repented, Jehovah changed his mind, much to the annoyance of his prophet, who represented that his unfortunate tendency to clemency was the very reason why he had not wished to enter his service. But Jehovah, by causing him to regret the destruction of a gourd which had sheltered him, showed him that there would be much more reason to spare so large a city as Nineveh, which contained, not only a vast population, but also a great deal of cattle.

If Malachi and Jonah stand in unfavorable contrast to the works composed during the golden age of Hebrew literature, Daniel, the latest book of the Old Testament, represents the complete degeneracy of prophecy. It is from beginning to end artificial; professing to be written at one time and by an author whose name and personality are given; in reality written at another time, and by an author whose name and personality are concealed. Hence it contains pseudo-prophecies, which are comparatively clear, extending from the imagined date of the supposed prophet to the actual date of the real prophet; and it contains genuine prophecies which are obscure, and which extend from the actual date into the actual future. It contains also much that relates to the politics of the day, and which, for obvious reasons, is cast into an enigmatic form. Daniel was written about the year B. C. 168, a little before the death of Antiochus Epiphanes, and the allusions to that monarch are of course made under the veil of prophecy, in a style designed to be intelligible, without being direct. The predictions of the eleventh chapter refer to the wars of the Syrian and Egyptian kings, and especially to Antiochus Epiphanes, who is the "vile person" mentioned in the twenty-first verse. The purpose of the work was to set an example of fidelity to Jehovah to the powerful Jews who were connected with the Syrian court, and especially to the younger members of the great Jewish families, who were in danger of being corrupted by its seductions (P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 298 ff.).

The form chosen to effect the writer's object is autobiographical. In this way he was able to utter his political views—which, directly expressed, would have been dangerous to his safety—under the guise of sentiments uttered by Daniel, the fictitious narrator of the story. Daniel was taken as a captive child along with other children of Jewish race to serve at the court of Nebuchadnezzar, and remained at the Chaldean court until the death of Nebuchadnezzar's son, Belshazzar, and the subjugation of his empire by the Medes and Persians. He continued to hold an honorable position at the Persian court under Darius and Kyros. He first rose to distinction by relating and interpreting to Nebuchadnezzar a dream which the king had himself forgotten. Thus, from being a mere page he rose to be a sort of astrologer royal. His life was not, however, free from trouble. Among the children who had been brought with him from Judea he had three friends, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, whom the Chaldeans called Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. When Daniel had successfully interpreted the king's dream, he contrived to obtain lucrative situations in the province of Babylon for Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. But these three having refused to worship a golden image which the king had set up in that province were by the king's orders cast into a burning fiery furnace, heated beyond its usual temperature. But though they fell bound in the midst of it, they were not burnt, and were seen walking about at their ease in it, accompanied by a fourth, who looked like the Son of Man (Dan. iii).

It is remarkable that a precisely similar prodigy occurred in one of the innumerable previous existences of the Buddha Sakyamuni. He was at this time the son and heir of a great king, and to prove his devotion to the true doctrine he literally obeyed the instructions of a Brahman, who desired him to fill a ditch ten yards deep with glowing coals and jump into it. On this condition the Brahman had consented to teach him the holy doctrine. Resisting all entreaties to preserve his life, the prince caused the pool of fire to be prepared and leapt into it without shrinking for a moment. On the instant it was converted into a basin of flowers, and he appeared sitting on a lotus-flower in its midst, while the gods caused a rain of flowers, that rose knee-deep to fall upon the assembled people (G. O. M., p. 14).

Nor is this the only other example of a wise discrimination being exercised by the fiery element. During the reign of the Indian king Asoka, who in the early part of his career was ferocious and irreligious, the public executioner enjoyed the singular privilege of being entitled to retain in his house every one, whatever his position or character, who might cross the threshold of his door. Now the outside of the executioner's house was beautiful and attractive, though within it was full of instruments of torture, with which he inflicted on his victims the punishments of hell. One day a holy monk, named Samudra, arriving at this apparently charming house, entered it, but on discovering the nature of its interior wished to make his exit. But it was too late. The executioner had seen him, and told him that he must die. After seven days' respite, he threw the monk into an iron caldron filled with water mixed with loathsome materials, and kindled a fire below it. But the fire would not burn. Far from experiencing any pain, the holy man appeared calmly seated on a lotus. The executioner having informed Asoka of this fact, the king arrived with a suite of thousands of persons. Seeing this crowd, the monk darted into the air, and there produced miraculous appearances. The king, struck by the extraordinary sight, requested the ascetic to say who he was, declaring that he honored him as a disciple. Samudra, perceiving that the moment had arrived at which the king was to receive the grace of instruction in the law, replied that he was a son of Buddha, that merciful Being, and that he was delivered from the bonds of existence. "And thou, O great king, thy advent was predicted by Bhagavat, when he said: A hundred years after I shall have entered into complete Nirvâna, there will be in the town of Pataliputtra a king called Asoka, a king ruling over the four quarters of the world, a just king, who will distribute my relics," and so forth. He proceeded to point out to Asoka the wickedness of establishing a house of torment like that he was in, and entreated him to give security to the beings who implored his compassion. Hereupon the king accepted the law of Buddha, and determined to cover the earth with monuments for his relics. But when the royal party were about to leave the place, the executioner had the audacity to remind Asoka of his promise that no one who had once entered his doors might ever go out. "What," cried Asoka, "do you wish then to put me also to death?" "Yes," replied the man. On this he was seized and thrown into the torture-room, where he died in the flames, and his house was destroyed (H. B. I., p. 365-372).

Daniel himself met with an adventure of the same perilous nature as that which had befallen his three friends, though under another government. Darius, by the advice of some counselors who desired to destroy Daniel, had made an order that no one should ask a petition of any god or man save himself for thirty days. But Daniel of course continued to worship Jehovah as before, and was sentenced in the terms of the edict to be thrown into a lions' den. But the lions would no more eat Daniel than the fire would burn his co-religionists; and just as Asoka, when he had witnessed the escape of the ascetic, worshiped Buddha, so Darius, having discovered Daniel uninjured in the lions' den, immediately ordered that in all parts of his dominions people should tremble and fear before the God of Daniel (Dan. vi).

Of the prophecies contained in this book the most remarkable is that concerning the Messiah, who is announced as destined to come at a time fixed by a mystical calculation expressed in weeks. The object of the writer was to fix a date for the Messiah's appearance, without expressing himself in such unambiguous terms as would be universally understood. Such is the true method of prophecy in all religions, for a prophet who utters his forecast of the future in such a manner as to render his meaning unmistakable, exposes himself to the hazardous possibility that the event in history may turn out altogether unlike the event foretold.

SUBDIVISION 5.—_The God of Israel._

One great question has hitherto been left untreated—that of the theology and morals of the Hebrew Bible. Theology and morals are so intimately blended in its pages that the one can scarcely be discussed without involving the other. The character of Jehovah is the pattern of morality; his will is its fundamental law; his actions its exemplification. Hence to consider the character of Jehovah is of necessity to consider also the Hebrew notions of ethics; while to inquire into the Hebrew standard of ethics is to enquire into the commands of Jehovah. Let us try then to ascertain what manner of deity Jehovah is. To do so, our best course will be to select the salient features of his history, as related by the sacred writers.

Now, at the very outset of his proceedings we observe that he takes up towards mankind a very definite attitude: that of a superior entitled to demand implicit obedience. Whether the fact that he was man's creator justified so extensive a claim it is needless in this place to discuss. Suffice it that he had the power to enforce under the severest penalties the submission he demanded. But it might have been expected that a divine being, who assumed such unlimited rights over a race so vastly his inferiors in knowledge and in strength, should at least exercise them with discretion and moderation. It might have been expected that where he claimed obedience it would be with a view to the well-being of his creatures; not merely as an arbitrary exercise of his enormous power. What, on the contrary, is the conduct he pursued? His very first act after he had created Adam and Eve and placed them in Paradise was to forbid them, under penalty of death, to eat the fruit of a certain tree which grew in their garden. There is not even a vestige of a pretense in the narrative that the fruit of this tree would in itself, and apart from the divine prohibition, have done them any harm. Quite the contrary; the fact of eating it enlarged their faculties; making them like gods, who know good and evil. And Jehovah was afraid that they might, after eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge, eat also that of the tree of life, after which he would be unable to kill them. So that it was his deliberate purpose in issuing this injunction to keep mankind feeble, ignorant and dependent. Nor is this by any means the whole extent of his misconduct. One of two charges he cannot escape. Either he knew when he created Adam and Eve that their nature was such that they would disobey, or he did not. In the first case, he knowingly formed them liable to fall, knowingly placed them amid conditions which rendered their fall inevitable; and then punished them for the catastrophe he had all along foreseen as the necessary result of the character he had bestowed upon them. In the second case, he was ignorant and shortsighted, being unable to guess what would be the nature of his own handiwork; and should not have meddled with tasks which were obviously beyond the scope of his faculties. And even in this latter case, the most favorable one for Jehovah, he acted with unpardonable injustice towards the man and woman in first creating them with a nature whose powers of resistance to temptation he could not tell, then placing temptation, raised to its utmost strength by a mysterious order, continually under their noses, then allowing a serpent to suggest that they should yield to it, and lastly punishing the unhappy victims of this chain of untoward circumstances by expulsion from their garden. A human parent who should thus treat his children would be severely and justly censured. It is a striking proof how rudimentary were the Hebrew conceptions of justice, that they should have accepted, in reference to their deity, a story which evinces so flagrant a disregard of its most elementary requirements (Gen. ii. 8, and iii). Just as in the case of Adam and Eve, he required implicit obedience to an arbitrary command, so in the case of Abraham he required implicit obedience to an immoral one. There was with him no fixed system of morality. Submission to his will was the alpha and omega of virtue. Observe now how superior is the feeling shown in the Hindu legend which has been quoted as a parallel to that of the projected sacrifice of Isaac. Although in that story the father was bound by a solemn promise to sacrifice his son, yet he is never blamed for his reluctance to do so, though Abraham is praised for his willingness; while the Brahman who is actually prepared to plunge the sacrificial knife into his child's breast is treated with scorn and reprobation for his unfeeling behavior. Even the service of the gods is not made supreme over every human emotion. But the conception of the existence of duties independent of the divine will seems not to have entered the minds of the Hebrew theologians who wrote these books.

The further proceedings of Jehovah are quite in keeping with his beginning in the garden of Eden. Throughout the whole course of the history he shows the most glaring partiality. In its earlier period he is partial to individuals; in its later, to the Hebrew race. Let us notice a few cases of this favoritism as shown towards individual favorites. Immediately after the curse upon Adam and Eve, and their banishment from Eden, we have the instructive story of Cain and Abel, so magnificently dramatized by Byron. These two brothers, sons of the original couple, both brought offerings to Jehovah; Cain, the fruit of the ground; Abel, the firstlings of his flock. But the Lord had respect to Abel and his offering, but not to Cain and his offering. Why was this difference made? Absolutely no reason is assigned for it, and it is not surprising, however lamentable, that it should have excited the jealousy of the brother who was thus ill-treated (Gen. iv. 1-8). Again, it has been remarked above that Abraham and Isaac had a singular way of passing off their wives as their sisters. Pharaoh was once deceived in this way about Sarah; Abimelech of Gerar, once about Sarah, and once about Rebekah. These two monarchs were plagued by Jehovah on account of their innocent mistake; the patriarchs were not even reproved for this cowardly surrender of their consorts to adulterous embraces (Gen. xii. 11-20, xx., xxvi. 7-11). Jacob is another favorite, while his brother Esau is coldly treated. Yet the inherent meanness of Jacob's character, and the comparative excellence of Esau's, are too obvious to escape even a careless reader. What can be more pitiful than the conduct of Jacob in taking advantage of a moment of weakness in his brother to purchase his birthright? (Gen. xxv. 29-34.) What more ungenerous than the odious trick by which he imposed upon his father, and cheated Esau of his blessing? (Gen. xxvii.) What again can be more magnanimous than the long subsequent reception by Esau of the brother whose miserable subserviency showed his consciousness of the wrong he had done him? (Gen. xxxiii. 1-15). Yet this is the man whom Jehovah selects as the object of his peculiar blessing, and whose very deceitfulness towards a kind employer he suffers to become a means of aggrandizement (Gen. xxx. 41-43).

The same partisanship which in these cases forms so conspicuous a trait in the character of Jehovah distinguishes the whole course of his proceedings in reference to the delivery of the Israelites from Egypt and their settlement in Palestine. Every other nation is compelled to give way for their advantage. Pharaoh and all the Egyptians are plagued for holding them in slavery, not in the least because Jehovah was an abolitionist (for he never troubled himself about slavery anywhere else), but because it was his own peculiar people who were thus in subjugation to a race whom he did not equally affect. Throughout the long journey from Egypt to the promised land, Jehovah accompanies the Israelites as a sort of commander-in-chief, directing them what to do, and giving them the victory over their enemies. As the Red Sea was divided to enable them to escape from their enemies on the one side, so the Jordan was cleft in two to enable them to conquer their enemies on the other (Ex. xiv. 21, 22.—Josh. iii. 7-17). The walls of a fortified city were thrown down to enable them to enter (Josh. vi. 20). The sun was arrested in his course to enable them to win a battle (Josh. x. 12-14). Hornets were employed to accomplish the expulsion of hostile tribes without trouble to the Israelites (Josh. xxiv. 12). Thus, as Jehovah afterwards took care to remind them, he gave them a land for which they did not labor, and cities which they did not build (Josh. xxiv. 13).

Nevertheless the lot of the race who were thus highly favored was far from happy. Their God was indeed a powerful protector, but he was also an exacting ruler. His service was at no time an easy one, and he was liable to outbursts of passion which rendered it peculiarly oppressive. Tolerant as he might be towards some descriptions of immorality, he had no mercy whatever for disloyalty towards himself. On one occasion he characterized himself by the name of "Jealous" (Ex. xxxiv. 14), which was but too appropriate, and implied the possession of one of the least admirable of human weaknesses. Now the Israelites were unfortunately prone to lapses of this kind. Such was the severity with which these offenses were treated that it is questionable whether it would not have been a far happier fate to be drowned in the Red Sea with the Egyptians than preserved with the children of Israel. A few instances of what they had to undergo will illustrate this remark.

Moses had impressed upon the people the importance of having no other deity but Jehovah, and had succeeded while he was actually among them in restricting them to his worship alone. But no sooner was he absent for a season than they immediately forsook Jehovah, and took to worshiping a golden calf. Worst of all, this new divinity was set up by Aaron, the brother of Moses, and high priest of the Jehovistic faith. That Jehovah should be rather vexed at such ungrateful behavior, after all the trouble he had taken in plaguing and slaughtering the Egyptians, was only natural; but it was surely an extraordinary want of self-control to propose to consume the whole nation at once, reserving only Moses as the progenitor of a better race. Here, as in other cases, Moses showed himself more merciful than his God. He ingeniously urged as a motive to clemency that the Egyptians would say extremely unpleasant things if the Israelites were destroyed; and after his return to the camp he contrived to appease him by inducing the Levites to perpetrate a fratricidal massacre, whereby three thousand people fell. This measure was described by Moses as a consecration of themselves to the Lord, that he might bestow his blessing upon them. It proved successful, for Jehovah now contented himself with merely plaguing the people instead of exterminating them (Ex. xxxii). Thus, he had scarcely finished plaguing the Egyptians before he began plaguing the Israelites in their turn. Indeed he was at this period peculiarly prone to sending plagues of one kind or another. Some complaints of the Israelites in the wilderness were visited by fire which burnt up those who were at the extremities of the camp (Num. xi. 1-3). When they began to pine for the varied food they had enjoyed in Egypt, and to lament the absence of flesh meat, he sent them quails indeed, but accompanied the gift with a very great plague, of which large numbers perished (Num. xi. 4-34). When they were dismayed by the reports brought them concerning the inhabitants of Palestine, and complained of their God for the position he had brought them into, he again fell into a rage and proposed to destroy them all by pestilence except Moses. But Moses a second time appealed to him on what seems to have been his weak side,—his regard for his reputation among the Egyptians. These had all heard of what he had been doing, and would not they and the other neighboring nations ascribe the destruction of the Israelites in the wilderness to his inability to bring them into the promised land? Moved by this reasoning, Jehovah consented to spare the people, but determined at the same time to avenge himself upon them by not permitting any of those that had come from Egypt (except Joshua and Caleb, who had reported in the proper spirit about Palestine) to set foot within the country to which he had solemnly engaged himself to conduct them (Num. xiv. 1-39). Thus, they were only saved from the Egyptians to perish in the wilderness. Truly, the tender mercies of the Lord were cruel.

But the miseries of these unfortunate wanderers were by no means ended. When, oppressed by the troubles and weariness of the way, they dared to murmur, and inquired of Moses why he had brought them out of Egypt to die in the wilderness, where there was neither tolerable bread, nor water, the resentment of Jehovah was excited by this audacity. They ought to have been only too grateful that they had remained alive. Jehovah had not caused the earth to swallow them as it had done Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, with their wives and little children, because they had ventured to complain of the government of Moses; nor had he destroyed them by plague, as he had destroyed 14,700 people because there had been some expressions of dissatisfaction at the sudden death of those seditious men. If then they had hitherto escaped destruction, they were certainly foolish in complaining of the hardships of the desert. At any rate Jehovah soon convinced them that their grumbling was useless. No constitutional opposition was permitted in those days. Fiery serpents were despatched to bite them, and many of them died in consequence. Such was the extent of the calamity that Moses, always more merciful than his God, interceded for his people; and was directed to set up a brazen serpent, by looking at which the bites of the living serpents were healed (Num. xxi. 1-9).

The extraordinary cruelty ascribed by the Hebrews to their national deity is shown in many other instances besides those that have been mentioned. And it is to be noticed that it is cruelty mingled with caprice. No one could tell beforehand precisely what actions he would visit with punishment, nor what would be the punishment with which he would visit them. Everything with him was uncertain. He had no fixed system of laws at all, and he sometimes condemned a criminal in virtue of _ex post facto_ legislation. The deluge is an example of all these vices combined. It was an excessively cruel punishment; it was inflicted capriciously, and once in a way only, because God had changed his mind as to the propriety of having created man; and it was the result of a resolution arrived at after the offenses it was designed to chastise had already been committed. No human being could possibly have guessed beforehand that his crimes would be punished in that particular way. And after the crimes of the antediluvians had been thus punished, the survivors received a promise that no misconduct on their part would ever be visited upon them in the same way. So that any conceivable utility which the deluge might have had as a warning for the future was utterly destroyed. Equal caprice, though not equal cruelty, was shown towards the builders of the tower of Babel, who were suffered to begin their labors without hindrance, but were afterwards stopped by the confusion of their languages. Why it was wrong to erect such a tower is never stated. Could any of those engaged upon it have guessed that the attempt was one deserving of punishment? Still worse was Jehovah's behavior to the prophet Balaam, for he first ordered him to go with the men who were sent for him, and then was angry with him because he went (Num. xxii. 20, 22). Such conduct was on a level with that of a pettish woman. Instances of barbarous severity may be found in abundance. Nadab and Abihu, sons of Aaron, were devoured by "fire from the Lord," because they had taken their censers, and offered strange fire before him (Lev. x. 1, 2). A man who on the father's side was Egyptian, was ordered to be stoned for blaspheming and cursing the name of the Lord; Jehovah being peculiarly eager in avenging personal affronts (Lev. xxiv. 10-16). On this occasion no doubt a general law was announced affixing the penalty of stoning to the offense of blasphemy; but the law was _ex post facto_ so far as the individual who suffered by its operation was concerned. On another occasion the heads of the people were ordered to be all hung for whoredom with the daughters of Moab, and for idolatry. Phinehas, Aaron's son, seeing an Israelite with a Midianitish woman, ran then both through the body with a javelin; for which heroic exploit against an unprepared man and a defenseless woman he was specially praised; was declared to have turned away God's wrath from Israel, and received a "covenant of peace" for himself and his posterity (Num. xxv. 1-15). At a much later period, when David was causing the ark to be brought back from the Philistines, an unfortunate man who had put out his hand to touch it because the oxen shook it, was immediately slain; an act at which even the pious David was displeased, and which caused him, not unnaturally, to be "afraid before the Lord that day" (2 Sam. vi. 6-9). In the reign of Jeroboam a prophet who had only been guilty of the involuntary error of believing another prophet who had told him a falsehood, was killed by a lion sent expressly for his punishment, while the man who had deceived him escaped scot free (1 Kings xiii. 1-32). Another man suffered for refusing to obey the word of a prophet what this one had suffered for obeying it. Being desired by one of the "sons of the prophets" to smite him so as to cause a wound, and having declined the office, he was informed that for his disobedience to the voice of the Lord he would be slain by a lion, which accordingly happened (1 Kings xx. 35, 36). Mercy towards a conquered enemy was sometimes an actual crime. Because he spared Agag, Saul was rejected from being king over Israel, and the Lord repented that he had appointed so weak-minded a man. Samuel, who was made of sterner stuff, had no scruple in carrying out the behests of his God, for he "hewed Agag in pieces before the Lord" (1 Sam. xv). In like manner Ahab was reproved for sparing the life of Ben-hadad, King of Syria (1 Kings xx. 42, 43). The same monarch whose leniency had thus brought him into trouble was afterwards the victim of a sanguinary fraud practiced upon him by Jehovah. Tired of his reign, and eager to effect his destruction, the Lord put a lying spirit into the mouth of all his prophets, who were thus induced to prophesy victory in an engagement which actually terminated in his defeat and death (1 Kings xxii. 1-40). Observe, that however foolish Ahab may have been in believing the false prophets and disbelieving Micaiah, this does not excuse Jehovah, who according to his own chosen spokesman, deliberately arranged this scheme for the overthrow of the king in the court of heaven. Other barbarous deeds followed upon this. To gratify Elijah, a hundred men who were guiltless of any crime whatever, were consumed by fire (2 Kings i. 9-12). To assuage the wounded vanity of Elisha, forty-two little children were eaten by bears (2 Kings ii. 23, 24). To maintain the glory of the true God, Elijah slaughtered the prophets of Baal to the number of many hundreds (1 Kings xviii. 17-40). To reëstablish the orthodox faith, Jehu got rid of the worshipers of Baal, collected together by an infamous trick, in one indiscriminate massacre; an atrocity for which he was specially praised and rewarded by "the Lord" (2 Kings x. 18-30).

It is needless to prolong the list of cruelties practiced upon private individuals. But the subject would be incompletely treated, did we not observe that the same spirit prevailed in the dealings of Jehovah with nations. Thus, when the Israelites were about to enter the land of Canaan, they were desired utterly to destroy the seven nations who possessed it already (Deut. vii. 2). When they captured Jericho, they slew all its inhabitants, young and old, except the household of the prostitute with whom their messengers had lodged, and who had shamelessly betrayed her countrymen. Her, with her family they saved (Josh. vi. 1-25). All the inhabitants of Ai were utterly destroyed (Josh. viii. 26). All the inhabitants of Makkedah were utterly destroyed (Josh. x. 28). All the inhabitants of many other places were utterly destroyed (Josh. x. 29-43, and xi. 11, 14). One city alone made peace with Israel; all the rest were taken in battle, and that because Jehovah had deliberately and of set purpose hardened the hearts of their inhabitants, that they might be utterly destroyed (Josh. xi. 20).

Such a catalogue of crimes—and the number is by no means exhausted—would be sufficient to destroy the character of any pagan divinity whatsoever. I fail to perceive why the Jews alone should be privileged to represent their God as guilty of such actions without suffering the inference which in other cases would undoubtedly be drawn—namely, that their conceptions of deity were not of a very exalted order, nor their principles of morals of a very admirable kind. There is, indeed, nothing extraordinary in the fact that, living in a barbarous age, the ancient Hebrews should have behaved barbarously. The reverse would rather be surprising. But the remarkable fact is, that their savage deeds, and the equally savage ones attributed to their God, should have been accepted by Christendom as flowing in the one case from the commands, in the other from the immediate action of a just and beneficent Being. When the Hindus relate the story of Brahma's incest with his daughter, they add that the god was bowed down with shame on account of his subjugation by ordinary passion (O. S. T., vol. i. p. 112). But while they thus betray their feeling that even a divine being is not superior to all the standards of morality, no such consciousness is ever apparent in the narrators of the passions of Jehovah. While far worse offenses are committed by him, there is no trace in his character of the grace of shame.

Turning now to the legislation which emanated from him, we shall find evidence of the same spirit which has been seen to mark his daily dealings. It is impossible here to examine that legislation in detail, and it may be freely conceded that much of it was well adapted to the circumstances under which it was delivered. Some of the precepts given are indeed trivial, such as the order to the Israelites not to round the corners of their heads, nor mar the corners of their beards (Lev. xix. 27), and others are [such as are] merely special to the Hebrew religion. But the mass of enactments may very probably have been wise, or, at least, not conspicuously the reverse. Those to which the chief exception must be taken, are such as demonstrate the essentially inhuman character of the authority from whom they emanated. Thus, death is the penalty affixed to the insignificant offense of Sabbath-breaking (Ex. xxxv. 2). If the nearest relation, or even the wife of his bosom, or the friend who is as his own soul, secretly entice a man to go and worship other gods, he himself is to put the tempter to death, his own hand being the first to fling the stones by which he is to perish (Deut. xiii. 6-11). The Inquisition itself could have no more detestable law than this. If it is a city that is guilty of such heresy, it is to be burnt down, and all its inhabitants put to the sword (Deut. xiii. 12-16). The mere worship of pagan divinities, apart from any effort to seduce others, is likewise punished with stoning (Deut. xvii. 2-7). In cities not in Palestine, taken in war, all the males only are to be put to death; but in the cities of Palestine itself, nothing that breathes is to be saved alive (Deut. xx. 13-18). A "stubborn and rebellious son" may be put to death by stoning, and that at the instance of his parents (Deut. xxi. 18-21). In appearance this terrible process for dealing with a naughty boy is less severe than the _patria potestas_ of the Romans, by which the power of life and death was lodged in the father alone. Practically, however, the exercise of this unlimited _legal_ right was prevented to a large extent, for a religious curse rested on the father who even sold his married son, and he could not pronounce sentence on any child till after consulting the nearest blood-relations on both sides, without incurring the same anathema (Mommsen, History of Rome, vol. i. p. 65). No doubt the purely legal power of the head of the family was unaffected by these restraints. Human authority still permitted him to expose his children at birth, to sell them, or to sentence them to death. But the difference between Roman and Jewish institutions was, that in Rome, religion sought to mitigate the cruelty of the civil law; in Palestine, religion not only did nothing to soften, but positively sanctioned, by its august commands the most revolting enactments of barbaric legislation. It is true that no instance is known to history of the employment of this law by Jews against their children, but this can only show that their parental morality was superior to the morality of the divine law. At a much later time than that at which this enactment was given, when the Israelites returned from the Captivity, the same harsh and intolerant spirit as we have observed in their earlier legislation broke forth again. By a cruel measure, enacted by Ezra, the representative of Jehovah, and taking the form of a covenant with God, the people were forced to repudiate all their wives who were not of pure Israelitish blood (Ezra ix, and x). Nehemiah, who was likewise zealous in the service of Jehovah, was no less an enemy to "outlandish women," and took rather strong measures against those who had married them, such as cursing them, smiting them, plucking off their hair, and making them swear not to give their sons or daughters in marriage to foreigners (Neh. xiii. 23-28).

Such being the moral characteristics of the Hebrew God, can it be said that the intellectual ideas of the divine nature found in the Old Testament are of a highly refined and spiritual order? On the contrary, as compared with the gods of other races, Jehovah is remarkably anthropomorphic and materialistic. He does not approach in spirituality to the higher conceptions of the Hindus, nor is he even equal to those of less subtle and speculative nations. He is on a level with the gods of popular mythologies, but not with those more mysterious powers who often stand above them. The evidence of this proposition is to be found in the whole tenor of the historical books. Thus, in the very beginning of Genesis, we find that he "rested on the seventh day," (Gen. ii. 2) as if he were a being altogether apart from the forces of nature, and might leave the world to go on without him. A little later he is found "walking in the garden in the cool of the day" (Gen. iii. 8). He clearly had a body resembling that of man, for on one occasion Moses was so highly favored as to be permitted to see his "back parts," and was covered with his hand while he was passing by. His face Moses was not permitted to behold, as it would have caused his death (Ex. xxxiii. 20-23). In order to pass by he "descended" in a cloud, implying local habitation, and at this time he magniloquently proclaimed his own titles and virtues, which he might more gracefully have employed an angel to do for him. Elsewhere it is stated that Moses and the elders "saw the God of Israel," and that he had some sort of paved work of sapphire stone under his feet. When Moses went up alone into the mount, "the sight of the glory of the Lord was like devouring fire." God was at this time supposed to be on the mount, and there held discourse with Moses (Ex. xxiv. 10-25). In the course of it he says that he will "commune" from above the mercy-seat in the tabernacle, again (as in so many other places) implying occupation of definite space (Ex. xxv. 22). He promises to "dwell among the children of Israel," that is, to be a national and local God (Ex. xxix. 45, 46). Confirmation of the view here taken of his limited nature is found in the fact that he thought it necessary to "go down" to Sodom and Gomorrah, to verify the reports which had reached him concerning the conduct of their inhabitants. And when Abraham appealed to him for mercy for those of them who were righteous, his several answers clearly implied that when he went to those cities he would discover how many of them came under that denomination. "If I find in Sodom fifty righteous," and so forth, is the language of one who does not know a fact, but is going to ascertain it. And accordingly at the end of the colloquy "the Lord went his way" (Gen. xviii. 20-33). So completely anthropomorphic is the conception of deity that, although the expression occurs only in a parable, it is not at variance with the mode in which he is usually spoken of when wine is said "to cheer God and man" (Judg. ix. 13). Evidently there was nothing shocking to the Hebrew mind in such an expression. And when they pictured their God as walking, talking, indignant, angry, repenting, jealous, showing himself to human beings, and generally indulging in the passions of mortals, it was perfectly easy to conceive that wine might exercise the same effect on him as it did on them.

No doubt the Hebrew mythology is free from all that class of stories in which a divine being is represented as making love to or cohabiting with women. Or, to speak more accurately, they never represent Jehovah himself as indulging in such amusements. There is a reminiscence of this form of myth in the statement that before the deluge the sons of God intermarried with the daughters of men (Gen. vi. 2); but their supreme Being was free at least from sexual passion. So far as it goes, this is well; but if I had to choose between a God who was somewhat licentious in his relations with mankind, and one who did not stick at deeds of bloodshed of the most outrageous character, I confess I should see no very powerful reason to prefer the latter.

That, in spite of all these drawbacks, there are some better elements in the Hebrew ideal I do not at all deny. The poetical description of God as a "still small voice" is both eloquent and spiritual; and the prayer of Solomon, with its admission that the heaven of heavens cannot contain the Infinite Power who is entreated to dwell in the Temple, is in many respects beautiful and admirable. So also the views of Jehovah attained and uttered by some of the prophets are far loftier than those generally expressed in the historical books. Many of the Psalms, again, are full of beauty in the manner in which they speak of him to whom they are addressed. In a nation so deeply religious as the Jews, and so much given to meditation on God, it was inevitable that the higher class of minds should conceive him more spiritually than the lower, and it is this class to whom we owe the poetical and prophetic writings. It was inevitable also that as civilization advanced, the grosser elements of the conception, which belonged to a barbarous people, should be eliminated, and that the finer ones should remain. The entire supersession of the older God by the newer was prevented by the fact that the Old Testament was a sacred book, and that hence every one of its statements had to be received as absolutely true. The inconsistency between the wrathful monarch of ancient times and the loving Spirit of more recent ages was sought to be surmounted by those processes of interpretation which have been shown to be invariably adopted when it is desired to bring the infallible Scriptures of any nation into harmony with the opinions of their readers. But happily the language of the historical portions of the Old Testament is singularly plain, and no ingenious manipulation of the text can with the smallest plausibility put aside the obvious meaning of the broad assertions on which is founded the above delineation of the God of Israel.

SECTION VIII.—THE NEW TESTAMENT.

Since a considerable portion of the New Testament has already been dealt with in the life of Jesus, we have only, in the present section, to consider the remaining works of which it is composed. These will not require a very elaborate treatment. They consist of one historical book, continuing the history of the Christian community from the death of its founder till the imprisonment of Paul at Rome, of letters, partly genuine, partly spurious, bearing the names of eminent apostles as their authors, and of one composition somewhat akin in its nature to the writings of the Hebrew prophets. Of these several parts of the New Testament (excluding the Gospels) some of the Epistles are probably the most ancient; but as it would be difficult to establish any precise chronological sequence among the several books, it will be most convenient to begin with that which stands first in actual order.

SUBDIVISION 1.—_The Acts of the Apostles._

The author of the third gospel, having written the life of Jesus, proceeded to compose, in addition to it, a history of the proceedings of his apostles after his decease. We are greatly indebted to him for having done so, for this book is, notwithstanding some extravagances, of considerable value, and is the most trustworthy of the five historical books in the New Testament. It brought the narrative of events nearer to the date at which it was written than the gospel could do, and it dealt with events concerning which better evidence was accessible to the writer. There was thus not the same scope for fiction as there had been in the life of Christ. Nevertheless the story of the Acts of the Apostles is by no means free from legendary admixture.

Beginning with the ascension, which has been already noticed in connection with the gospel, it proceeds to relate the choice of a new apostle in place of the unfaithful Judas. The ceremony by which the choice was made evinces a singular superstition on the part of the apostles. Having selected two men, Joseph and Matthias, they simply prayed that God would show which he had chosen. They then drew lots, and the lot fell upon Matthias (Acts i. 15-26).

The next important event in the history of the Church thus recruited, was the reception of the Holy Ghost on the day of Pentecost. On this occasion the Christians were all assembled, when suddenly there was a sound like that of strong wind; cloven tongues appeared and sat upon them; they were filled with the Holy Ghost, and suddenly acquired the power of speaking foreign languages (Acts ii. 1-13). Since the "gift of tongues" has not been unknown in certain communities in recent times, we might perhaps form a tolerably correct notion from the reports of modern observers as to what the scene among the disciples was like. Even, however, without this modern experience, we should not be altogether in the dark as to the character of the phenomenon of which the author of the Acts makes mention. For although it is indeed stated that some of the strangers who were present heard each his own language spoken by the disciples, it is added that the conviction produced upon others was that the Christians were drunk. It must have been a wild and singular exhibition which could lead to the formation of such an opinion. But if we wanted further explanation we should find it in the words of Paul, whose strong practical judgment led him to depreciate the value of the gift of tongues as compared with that of preaching. Had this gift consisted in the power of speaking their own languages to foreign nations, there is none to whom it would have been of greater service than the apostle of the Gentiles. Yet it is he who tells us that at a meeting he would rather speak five words with his understanding, that he might teach others also, than ten thousand in a tongue. So that the words spoken "in tongues" were not spoken with the understanding; they were mere sounds without a meaning to him who uttered them. Equally clear is the evidence of Paul to the fact that they were without a meaning to him who heard them. His reason for desiring his correspondents to cultivate the gift of prophesying (or preaching) rather than that of tongues is that "he that speaks in a tongue speaks not to men, but to God, for _nobody_ understands him, but in the spirit he speaks mysteries. But he that preaches speaks to men edification, and exhortation, and comfort. He that speaks in a tongue edifies himself; but he that preaches edifies the Church" (1 Cor. xiv. 2-4). Tongues, he says further on, are for a sign to unbelievers; that is, they are of use merely to impress the senses of those whose minds cannot yet be appealed to. But if the unbelieving or unlearned should happen to enter a meeting where the disciples were all speaking with tongues, they would consider them mad: a striking testimony to the tumultuous character of scenes like that presented by the enthusiastic assembly of the Christians at Pentecost. Hence Paul desires that two, or at most three, should speak with tongues at a time, and that there should always be somebody to interpret, in other words, to translate nonsense into sense. Without an interpreter, he would not sanction any exercise of this peculiar faculty on the part of the inspired linguist (1 Cor. xiv. 1-28).

To satisfy the doubts of those who attributed the sudden attainments of the apostles to intoxicating drinks, Peter delivered a discourse, which ended in the addition of 3,000 members to the rising sect. It is remarkable that these new members at once became communists, both they and all the disciples having all things in common; a noteworthy indication of what was required by the religion of Christ as understood by his immediate disciples (Acts ii. 14-47). Further evidence, if any were needed, of the communistic character of the Church is contained at the end of the fourth chapter, while the fifth informs us of the tolerably severe measures taken to enforce it. "There was one heart and one soul among the multitude of those who believed, nor did a single one say that any of the things he possessed was his own; but they had all things common." Unhappily the one heart and one mind did not extend to Ananias or to his wife Sapphira, for this naughty couple "sold a possession and kept back part of the price." But Peter was not thus to be taken in. It does not appear from the account that Ananias was asked whether the sum he produced was the whole price of the land, or that he told any falsehood regarding it. However, Peter remarked that he might have kept either the property or its price, had he thought proper, and charged him with lying to God; whereupon the poor man fell down dead. About three hours later, Sapphira came in; and she distinctly stated that the sum produced by Ananias was the full price. Peter told her that the feet of those who had buried her husband were at the door, and would carry her out too. She then fell down at his feet, and expired in her turn (Acts. iv. 31-v. 11).

No wonder that "great fear came upon all the Church" when they heard these things. Peter's proceedings were indeed alarming, and could we for a moment accept the account of his historian, we should have no option but to hold him guilty of the wilful murder of Sapphira. He knew, according to his own statement, what the effect of his words upon this woman would be, and he should have abstained from any expression that could bring about so terrible a catastrophe. Happily, we may reject the whole story as either a fiction or a perversion of fact. Had it been true, it would have called for very much sterner measures than those taken by the Sanhedrim, who, having already desired Peter and John to keep silence about the new religion, now merely imprisoned the apostles, and afterwards, on the prudent advice of Gamaliel, determined to release them; not indeed till after they had beaten them and again prohibited their propagandist efforts (Acts v. 17-42). It is interesting to observe that Luke effects the deliverance of the apostles from prison by the intervention of an angel, and that at a later period, when Peter had been imprisoned by Herod, he again gets him out by means of an angel who appears to him while sleeping, and at whose presence his chains fall off (Acts xii. 1-19). This is quite in accordance with the proceedings of the same author in the gospel, where his partiality for angels as part of his theatrical machinery has been shown to be characteristic.

The infant community was now increasing in numbers, and along with this increase there arose the customary consequences—dissension and mutual distrust. We are fortunate in possessing in the Acts an account of the very first quarrel in the Church; the earliest symptom of those discords and hostilities, which, since that time, have so incessantly raged within her limits. It was on a question of money; the Greeks murmuring against the Hebrews, because they thought their widows were neglected in the daily ministration. The apostles tided over the immediate difficulty by appointing subordinate officers to attend to matters of business. The plan succeeded; but their peace was soon to be disturbed again by graver questions (Acts vi. 1-8).

Among those appointed to superintend the pecuniary interests of the Church was one named Stephen. This man is reported to have performed great wonders and miracles, but some of the Jews accused him of blasphemy, and after an eloquent defense, which to Jewish ears amounted to an admission of the charge, he was sentenced to death by stoning. Foremost in the execution of the sentence was a man named Saul, who was conspicuous at this time for the bitterness with which he pursued the Christians, entering their private houses, and causing them to be imprisoned (Acts vi. 9-viii. 3).

If any proof were needed of the entire conscientiousness of the Jewish persecutors of Christianity at this time we should find it in the character of Saul. Of the honesty of his religious zeal, of the single-minded sense of duty from which he acted in his anti-Christian period, his subsequent career makes it impossible to entertain a doubt. Men like the apostle Paul are not made out of selfish, dishonest, or cruel natures. He was at the martyrdom of Stephen as honorable and fearless an upholder of the ancient faith as he was afterwards to the new. He himself several times refers in his writings to his persecution of the Church, and always in the tone of a man who had nothing to be ashamed of but a mistake in judgment. As touching the righteousness which is in the law, he tells us he was blameless (Phil. iii. 6). And although in intellectual power he was doubtless above the average of his class, in point of genuine devotion to his creed, he may fairly be taken as a type of the men with whom he consented to act.

Saul had probably been impressed by the conduct of the Christians, whom he had so ruthlessly delivered up to justice. At any rate the subject of the Christian religion had taken great hold upon his mind, for on his way to Damascus he saw a vision which induced him to become himself a follower of Jesus. It is unfortunate that we have no detailed account of the nature of the event which led to his conversion from Paul himself. He often alludes to it, but nowhere describes it.

The most important passage bearing upon the subject is in the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, where he thus mysteriously refers to his experience on this occasion: "I knew a man in Christ above fourteen years ago (whether in the body I do not know, whether out of the body I do not know) such an one caught up to the third heaven. And I knew such a man (whether in the body, whether out of the body, God knows), that he was caught up into paradise, and heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter" (2 Cor. xii. 2-4). So far as it goes, this account does not very well agree with that of the Acts, since there we are told exactly what were the words Paul heard, and what he answered. We are left in doubt then whether the conversation between Christ and the apostle there related rests on the authority of Paul himself, or represents merely the imagination of others as to what might have passed between them. But that Paul saw some kind of vision, which he himself believed to be a vision of Christ, there can be no doubt.

From Luke we have two versions of this incident, one in the form of historical narrative, the other in that of a speech put into the mouth of Paul. According to these he saw a light, and heard a voice saying, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" On inquiry, he learnt that the voice emanated from Jesus, and he was desired to proceed to Damascus, where further instructions would be given him. Luke has not taken sufficient pains to make his two versions harmonize, for in the first we are told that his companions heard a voice, but saw no man; in the second that they saw the light, but did not hear the voice of him that spoke (Acts ix. 7, and xxii. 9). At Damascus a man named Ananias, directed also by a vision, went to Saul to restore his sight, which had been destroyed for the moment by the brilliancy of the celestial light. After this, Saul, subsequently called Paul, escaping from the pursuit of the Jews who had designs upon his life, began to preach in the name of Jesus (Acts ix. 1-31).

Another convert of some consideration, from his official position and from the fact that he was a heathen, was added to the community about this time. This was Cornelius, the Centurion of the Italian band. Cornelius was a religious man, much given to prayer. Tired perhaps of visions, of which there had been two in the last chapter and was to be another in this, Luke introduces his angel—a sort of supernumerary ever ready to appear when wanted—to effect the conversion of Cornelius. The angel told him to apply to Peter, now at Joppa, for further advice as to what he should do. Meanwhile Peter had on his part been prepared by a vision of unclean beasts, which he was desired to eat, for the reception of the Gentile embassy, and the admission of Gentiles to the flock. He accordingly proceeded to Cæsarea, where Cornelius was, and baptized both him and other heathens, upon whom, to the great astonishment of the Jews, the Holy Ghost was poured out and the gift of tongues conferred. Thus did the Church of Christ begin, timidly and feeling her way with caution, to extend her boundaries beyond the limits of the Hebrew people (Acts x).

Some scandal was created in the congregation at Jerusalem by Peter's violation of Jewish rules in dining with uncircumcised people, but there was no gainsaying a vision like that which he produced in reply. Shortly after these events the apostle James, one of those two brothers whose mother had petitioned that they might sit on two thrones, one on each side of Jesus, when his kingdom came, was executed by Herod, the tetrarch; who also imprisoned Peter, but was unable to keep him on account of the angelic intervention mentioned above. The death of this monarch from a painful internal disease, is curiously perverted by the writer into a sudden judgment of God, inflicted upon him because he accepted divine honors at the hands of his flatterers (Acts xi. xii).

The history now proceeds to follow the fortunes of Paul. It is stated that there were at Antioch certain prophets and teachers, who were inspired by the Holy Ghost to appoint Barnabas and Saul to the work whereunto they were called. Having laid their hands upon them, they sent them away. Paul now began to travel from place to place, making converts among the heathen. At Paphos he met with a Jewish sorcerer named Elymas, who he caused to be blind for a season, thereby inducing the Roman proconsul Sergius Paulus to believe in Christianity, which had thus shown itself able to produce more powerful sorcerers than the rival creed (Acts xiii. 1-12).

It is a striking proof of the liberality of the Jews at this period that when Paul and his companions had gone into the synagogue of Antioch in Pisidia, the rulers of the synagogue invited them to speak; a freedom which even in the present day would scarcely be granted in any Christian Church to those who were regarded as heretics. Paul took advantage of the proffered opportunity to deliver a speech which ended in the conversion of some of the Jews. On the following Sabbath great crowds came to hear Paul, but the Jews, as was natural, opposed him and contradicted him. After this they stirred up pious women and the principal men of the city against Paul and Barnabas, and (it is stated) expelled them from their coasts (Acts xiii. 50). These apostles having already determined to go (Acts xiii. 46), it was not a severe treatment that was thus inflicted on them. They, however, left Antioch in no very charitable frame of mind, for they shook off the dust of their feet against its inhabitants (Acts xiii. 14-52).

The cure of an impotent man at Lystra led the multitude of that place to adore Paul and Barnabas as gods. Paul, as the orator, they called Hermes, and Barnabas, Zeus. The priest of Zeus brought oxen and garlands, and intended to sacrifice to them, an intention which the people were barely prevented, by the indignant protests of the two apostles, from carrying into effect (Acts xiv. 8-18). This was not the only occasion on which Paul was taken for a god; for when he was cast by shipwreck on the island of Melita, his escape from injury by a venomous reptile which had fastened on his hand was regarded by the savages of that island as a proof of divinity (Acts xxviii. 1-6).

Extremely similar to these incidents, especially to the first, is a circumstance recounted by Sir Francis Drake in his voyage of circumnavigation. His vessel having sprung a leak, while he was exploring the coast of North America, was brought to anchor to be repaired, and the sailors landed to build tents and make a fort for purposes of defense. The natives approached them in companies, armed, and as if designing an attack, but it appeared that they had "no hostile meaning or intent;" for when they came near, they stood "as men ravished in their minds, with the sight of such things as they never had seen or heard of before that time: their errand being rather with submission and feare to worship us as gods, than to have any warre with us as with mortall men. Which thing, as it did partly show itself at that instant, so did it more and more manifest itself afterwards, during the whole time of our abode amongst them." The General gave them materials for clothing, "withall signifying unto them we were no gods, but men, and had neede of such things to cover our own shame; teaching them to use them for the same ends, for which cause wee did eate and drinke in their presence, giving them to understand that without that wee could not live, and therefore were but men as well as they" ("we also are men of like passions with you") (Acts xiv. 15). "Notwithstanding nothing could persuade them, nor remove that opinion which they had conceived of us, that wee should be gods" (W. E., p. 120).

And, as the heathens of Lystra were eager to sacrifice to Barnabas and Paul, so those of this country actually conferred this mark of divinity upon some of the white men in the company of Drake, nor were the utmost protests of the travelers of avail to put a stop to what appeared to them, just as it did to the apostles, an impious rite, derogating from the honor due to the true God. The people had come in a large body, accompanied by their king, to make a formal presentation of the sovereignty to him, and the king had made over into his hands the insignia of the royal office, when the scene now described by Sir Francis took place.

"The ceremonies of this resigning and receiving of the Kingdome being thus performed," says Sir Francis, "the common sort, both of men and women, leaving the king and his guard about him, with our Generall, dispersed themselves among our people, taking a diligent view or survey of every man; and finding such as pleased their fancies (which commonly were the youngest of us), they presently enclosing them about offred their sacrifices unto them crying out with lamentable shreekes and moanes, weeping and scratching and tearing their very flesh off their faces with their nails; neither were it the women alone which did this, but even old men, roaring and crying out, were as violent as the women were.

"We groaned in spirit to see the power of Sathan so farre prevaile in seducing these, so harmlesse soules, and labored by all meanes, both by shewing our great dislike, and when that served not, by violent withholding of their hands from that madnesse, directing them (by our eyes and hands lift up towards heaven) to the living God whom they ought to serve; but so mad were they upon their Idolatry, that forcible withholding them would not prevaile (for as soon as they could get liberty to their hands againe, they would be as violent as they were before) till such time, as they whom they worshiped were conveyed from them into the tents, whom yet as men besides themselves, they would with fury and outrage seeke to have again" (W. E., p. 129).

We are again reminded of the Acts: "And with these sayings scarce restrained they the people, that they had not done sacrifice unto them" (Acts xiv. 18).

An unfortunate change in the popular mind soon occurred; for on the arrival of some Jews who stirred them up to hostility against the Apostles, they flew from one extravagance to another, and stoned Paul so severely that he was left by them for dead. But as the disciples stood about him he rose, and was able to continue his journey on the next day.

The Christians at Jerusalem were now required to consider the difficult question of the circumcision of the Gentiles; their decision upon which has already been discussed. After the council Paul (who had returned to Antioch) proposed to revisit the places where he had formerly preached, and Barnabas intended to go with him. But a difference of opinion as to whether they should take Mark with them led to a violent quarrel between these two apostles; as the result of which Paul chose Silas as his companion, and left Barnabas to pursue his own course with his friend Mark (Acts xv).

The writer now follows the fortunes of Paul in his missionary work in various countries, and it is remarkable that in the sixteenth chapter he drops the third person, and begins to speak in the first person plural, implying that he himself was one of the company. The fact that from this point onwards the book becomes practically not the Acts of the Apostles, but the Acts of Paul, who is evidently the hero of the story, indicates an author who belonged to the Pauline section of the Church, and to whom Paul was the chief living embodiment of the Christian faith. Who this author was—whether Silas, or some other companion—it would be hard to say, but he seems to have written under the direct inspiration of Paul himself.

Increased by the addition of Timotheus, the party, guided by a vision seen by Paul of a Macedonian entreating them to come, went into Macedonia. At Philippi they met with some success among women, making particular friends with a purple-seller named Lydia. But the conversion of a divining girl who was a source of profit to her employers, led to the imprisonment of Paul and Silas, from which, however, an opportune earthquake set them free (Acts xvi).

At Athens Paul made a speech on the Areopagos, in which he ingeniously availed himself of an altar he had noticed, inscribed "To an Unknown God," to maintain that this unknown God was no other than the Jehovah of the Jews (Acts xvii. 16-34). At Corinth he was allowed to preach every Sabbath in the synagogue (as he had done at Thessalonica, and did again at Ephesus), another evidence of the tolerant spirit of the Jews as compared with Christians. Not, of course, that the Jews were not bigoted adherents of their narrow creed, or that they had any scruple about supporting it by physical force; but they were willing to allow those who had a reformation to propose to be heard in the synagogues. The effect, as might be expected, was to embitter those who remained orthodox against Paul. But an attempt on their part to bring him under the jurisdiction of the civil tribunals failed, and after remaining a long time at Corinth, he went on to Ephesus, and thence continued his course through Galatia and Phrygia (Acts xviii. 1-23). An eloquent and able Alexandrian, Apollos by name, came to Ephesus, after Paul had left it. He was a believer in John the Baptist, and was received into the Church by Paul's friends, Aquila and Priscilla, whom he had left behind.

A singular incident occurred on a subsequent visit of Paul's to Ephesus. He found some disciples there and asked them whether they had received the Holy Ghost. They replied that they did not even know whether there was a Holy Ghost. Such crass ignorance must have astonished Paul, who inquired into what they had been baptized. They said, into John's baptism, and the apostle accordingly baptized them in the name of Jesus, with the striking result that they immediately received the Holy Ghost and began to speak in tongues (Acts xix. 1-7). Curious incidental evidence is thus supplied by the case of Apollos and by that of these Ephesians of the existence of a Johannine sect which Christianity superseded and swept into oblivion; and it is remarkable, as affording a presumption that the Baptist did not regard himself as the mere precursor of Christ, that these Johannists do not appear to have been looking forward to any further development of their principles such as the religion of Jesus supplied.

At Ephesus Paul preached for three months in the synagogue, and then, meeting with much opposition, betook himself to a public room, where he disputed daily. But after he had taught two years, a dangerous riot was excited by the tradesmen who dealt in silver shrines for the Ephesian Artemis, and Paul, after the disturbance had been quelled, determined to go into Macedonia (Acts xix. 8-xx. 1). While he was preaching at Troas, a young man, who had fallen asleep, fell from the window at which he was sitting, and was supposed to have been killed. Paul, however, declared that he was still alive, and told them not to be disturbed. This opinion proved to be correct. To this simple incident the historian, by stating that he was "taken up dead," has contrived to give the aspect of a miracle. The case exactly resembles the supposed miracle of Jesus, discussed above (Supra, vol. i. p. 320-323), and is another illustration of the facility with which natural occurrences may, by the turn of a phrase, be converted into marvels (Acts xx. 7-12).

No arguments were now availing to dissuade the apostle from visiting Jerusalem, where it was well known that peril awaited him. Arrived at the centre of Judaism, his first business was to clear himself from the suspicions entertained of his rationalistic tendencies by taking a vow according to the Mosaic ritual. After this the Asiatic Jews raised a clamor against him which ended in a dangerous tumult. From the violent death which threatened him at the hands of the enraged multitude he was rescued by the Roman troops, under cover of whose protection he made his defense before the people (Acts xxi. 27-xxii. 21). It naturally did not conciliate the Jews; and the Roman officer who had made him prisoner, having been deterred from the application of torture by Paul's Roman citizenship, desired his accusers to appear in court to prefer their charges on the following day (Acts xxii. 22-30). But when the case came on, Paul ingeniously contrived to set the Pharisees against the Sadducees by the assertion that he himself was a Pharisee, and that he was charged with believing in a future state. By this not very candid shift he obtained the support of the Pharisaic party, and produced among his prosecutors a scene of clamor and discord from which it was thought expedient to remove him. Defeated in the courts of law, the more embittered of his enemies formed a scheme of private assassination which was revealed to the captain of the guard by Paul's nephew, and from which he was rescued by being sent by night under a strong military escort to the governor of the province, a man named Felix (Acts xxiii). Ananias, the high priest, and others of the prosecutors, followed Paul to Cæsarea in five days, but the nature of their charges was such that they made little impression upon the mind of the governor. He nevertheless kept Paul in confinement, perhaps hoping (as the narrator suggests) that he would receive a bribe to set him free (Acts xxiv). After two years Festus succeeded Felix, and when this governor visited Jerusalem he was entreated by the priests to send for Paul, which, however, he refused to do, and required the prosecutors to come to him at Cæsarea. They went, and charged Paul with offenses which it is said they could not prove. When Festus asked him whether he would go to Jerusalem to be tried by him, Paul replied that he ought to be tried at Cæsar's judgment-seat, as he had done the Jews no wrong, and that he appealed to Cæsar. The policy of this appeal was questionable, for after a time Festus was visited by King Agrippa, to whom he related the facts of the case; and the king, having heard the statement of the prisoner himself, declared that he might have been set at liberty had he not appealed to Cæsar (Acts xxv., xxvi).

Paul therefore was now sent with a gang of prisoners to Rome, on the way to which the ship he was in was wrecked off the island of Melita, where the winter months were accordingly passed. Here he cured numerous inhabitants of diseases, and received high honors in consequence. After three months an Alexandrine vessel conveyed the shipwrecked company to the capital. Arrived at Rome, Paul summoned the Jews to come to the house where, guarded by a soldier, he was allowed to live, and endeavored to convert them. Meeting with indifferent success, he dismissed them with insulting words drawn from Isaiah, and roundly informed them that the salvation of God was now sent to the Gentiles, and that these would hear it (Acts xxvii., xxviii). What was the ultimate fate of this great teacher of Christianity, whether his case was ever heard, and if so, how it was decided; whether he lived a prisoner, or was set free, or died a martyr, we have no historical information, and it is useless, in the absence of evidence, to attempt to conjecture.

SUBDIVISION 2.—_The Epistles._

In the epistles which have been preserved to us, and which are no doubt but a few rescued from a much larger correspondence, the apostolic authors enforce upon their respective converts or congregations the doctrines of Christianity as understood by them. They explain the relation of Jesus to the Jewish law; they inculcate morality; they reply to objections; they hold out the prospect of the speedy revolution which they expect. Since their opinions on all the topics upon which they touch cannot, within the limits of a general treatise, be discussed in detail, all that is necessary now is to glance rapidly at the more general characteristics of the several writers.

A letter addressed to the twelve tribes scattered abroad, and traditionally ascribed to the apostle James, may best be taken in connection with an anonymous epistle addressed to the Hebrews. They have these two features in common, that they are written to Jewish Christians, and that they discuss the relation of faith to works. It is true that this question is treated by their authors from opposite points of view. Theological controversy began early in the history of the Christian Church, and its first controversial treatises have been embodied in the Canon of its Sacred Books. It appears, moreover, to be highly probable, not only that the two epistles were written on opposite sides of a disputed question, but that the chapter in the one dealing with that question was designed as an answer to the corresponding chapter in the other. It may be difficult to say which was the original statement, which the reply; but when we find the very same examples chosen by both, the one maintaining that Abraham and Rahab were justified by faith, the other that they were justified by works, it is not easy to believe that so exact a coincidence in the mode of treating their subject was accidental. The more argumentative tone taken by James—as of one answering an opponent—induces me to believe that his epistle was the later of the two. The author of the Hebrews insists upon the paramount necessity of faith; showing by a number of historical examples that the conduct of the great heroes of the Hebrew race, besides that of many inferior models of excellence, was wholly due to this cause. The author of James, on the contrary, strenuously maintains that faith is of no value without works, and, as if endeavoring to set aside the force of the examples produced on the other side, selects for his consideration the history of two persons who had been held up as illustrations of the doctrine that we are justified by faith. Abraham, he says, was not justified by faith only, but by works; for he offered Isaac on the altar, which was a very practical illustration of his faith (James ii. 21-23). Rahab again, who according to you was saved from destruction with the unbelievers by faith, was in reality justified by works, for it was a work to receive the messengers and send them out another way (James ii. 25). Not that we deny the importance of faith altogether; but we do deny the exclusive position which you, in your Epistle to the Hebrews, assign to it. Without works faith is a dead, unproductive thing; like a body without its animating spirit. Indeed a man may say to him who relies upon his faith alone, Show me your faith without works, and I will show you mine by my works. What is the use of a faith unaccompanied by works? can it save any one by itself? Certainly not, answers James; Certainly, says the author of the Hebrews. The whole question turns on those hair-splitting distinctions in which theologians have ever delighted; for while the one party considers faith as the producing cause of good actions, the other treats good actions as the evidence of faith. Neither the one nor the other really meant to question the necessity of either element in the combination.

In other respects there is a broad difference between the two epistles. That to the Hebrews is Judaic in tone and spirit; its main object being to prove that Christ is a sort of high-priest, endowed with authority to set aside the old Jewish institutions and substitute something better. James is more catholic and more practical. He insists upon the necessity of not only hearing, but doing the word; of keeping the whole moral law; of bridling the tongue, and of showing no respect to persons on account of their worldly position. He is extremely hostile to the rich, and draws a very unfavorable picture of their conduct (James ii. 6, 7, and v. 1-6). He encourages the poor Christians to endure patiently till Christ comes, which will be very soon (James v. 7, 8). Lastly, he emphatically urges the duty of proselytism upon his flock; remarking that one who converts another when wandering from the truth, both saves the soul of the wanderer and hides a multitude of his own sins (James v. 19, 20).

Two epistles are attributed to the apostle Peter, the first of which, addressed to the strangers in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, purports to be written from Babylon. He holds out to his correspondents the hope of salvation which they have through Jesus, which is a source of joy, notwithstanding their present troubles. Among other precepts he counsels husbands and wives as to their mutual behavior; exhorting wives to be obedient, and not to care too much for dress; and requiring husbands to honor their wives as the weaker vessels (1 Pet. iii. 1-7). The Second Epistle of Peter would appear to be by a rather later author, for he has read the epistles of Paul. He is troubled about "false teachers," who introduce "heresies of destruction," and denounces them in no measured terms (2 Pet. ii). Having, as above described, comforted the Christians for the long delay in the second coming of the Savior, he exhorts them not to be led away by the error of the wicked, but to grow in grace and in the knowledge of their Lord (2 Pet. iii. 17, 18).

Of the three epistles bearing the name of John, the first only is of any considerable length. The style of this epistle is extremely simple, and it reads like the kindly talk of an old man to children. He tells his flock not to sin, not to love the world, and to love one another. So much does he keep to these purely general maxims, that it would be difficult to gather any really useful instruction from his benevolent garrulity. It is characteristic of him to insist again and again upon love as the cardinal virtue of a Christian. Besides this, perhaps the most definite advice he gives is to pray for anything desired, and to entreat of God the forgiveness of a brother who has committed a sin not unto death (1 John v. 14-16). With great self-complacency he calmly asserts that he and his friends are of God, and that the whole world lies in wickedness (1 John v. 19); a pleasant mode of putting those towards whom it was impossible to practice the love about which he spoke outside of the pale of brotherhood.

The writer of John's second epistle, addressed to a lady and her children, illustrates the kind of charity resulting from such views as this, when he tells them not to receive into their house, nor bid "farewell" to any one who does not hold correct doctrines (2 John 10). The third epistle, written to Gaius, contains little beyond matters of purely personal interest. The Epistle of Jude, who calls himself brother of James, denounces certain "ungodly men," who have "crept in unawares," and are doing great mischief in the Church. It is principally interesting from its reference to the legend of the contest of Michael the archangel with the devil for the body of Moses, which popular tale the writer seems to accept as unquestionably authentic (Jude 9).

Having thus referred to the writings which bear, whether correctly or not, the names of the original apostles of Jesus, we come to those of one who was far greater than any of these—the apostle who was not converted until after the death of his Master. Paul, to whom the great majority of the epistles preserved in the New Testament are ascribed, and by whom many of them were undoubtedly written, is the central figure of the apostolic age, and the one who redeems it from the somewhat unintellectual character it would otherwise have had. Through him it principally was that Christianity passed from the condition of a Jewish sect to that of a comprehensive religion. What Christ himself had been unable to do, he did. What the apostles of Christ shrunk from attempting, he accomplished. He himself was not unconscious of the magnitude of his labors. Hence there is noticeable now and then in his writings, though veiled under respectful phrases, a sort of intellectual contempt for the older apostles, who were not always prepared for the thorough-going measures which appeared to him so obviously expedient. He is extremely anxious not to be thought one whit inferior to them by reason of his comparatively late appointment to the apostleship. He carefully rebuts the suspicion that he acted in subordination to them, or even in conjunction with them, after his conversion. His course, he is anxious to let every one know, was taken in entire independence of the Church at Jerusalem. Moreover, he insists emphatically upon his personal qualifications. Was any one a Hebrew? so was he. Had others received visions or revelations? so had he. Had others been persecuted? so had he. He is fond of dwelling upon his individual history in order to support his claims. Thus he tells us that in former times he persecuted the Church of God, and that he was more Jewish than the Jews, being even more zealous than they of the traditions of his fathers. It was therefore entirely by special revelation from God, and not by any human agency whatever, that he was consecrated to his present work. Indeed his revelations were so abundant that it needed a "thorn in the flesh" to prevent him from being too proud of them—a work, however, in which the thorn was not entirely successful. His sufferings for the sake of the gospel afforded him another and more legitimate cause of satisfaction. He says of these that he received thirty-nine stripes from the Jews on five occasions; that he was thrice beaten with rods; once stoned; thrice shipwrecked; a day and night in the deep (in an open boat?); often in all sorts of perils, in watchings, cold and thirst, hunger and nakedness. Once too he escaped from arrest at Damascus, which does not seem a very serious calamity (2 Cor. xi. 22-28.—Gal. i. 11-24).

Now the object of all these autobiographical statements is evidently to place himself on a level with other apostles who might seem at first to be more highly privileged than he was. Not so, he contends; if they are ministers of Christ, I am quite as much so; if they saw Christ before his death, I have seen him after it; if they have labored in his cause, I have labored more; if they have suffered for his sake, I have suffered more. Hence my authority is in every respect equal to theirs, and should there be a difference of opinion between us you must believe me, your pastor, rather than them. Nay, even if an angel from heaven should preach any other gospel than that which I have preached, you must not believe him; much more then must you disbelieve an apostle. Besides, appearances are deceptive, and as Satan may appear in the character of an angel of light, so the ministers of Satan may, and do appear in the character of apostles of Christ (2 Cor. xi. 13-15.—Gal. i. 8). There was therefore a section of the Church—probably the Judaic section, under the guidance of one of the original apostles—with whom Paul was at issue, and whom he considered it incumbent upon him to oppose by every argument in his power. These are they whom he refers to as "troubling" the Galatians, and perverting the Gospel of Christ (Gal. i. 7).

Such was the view taken by Paul of his function in the rising sect. Whatever may have been its logical justification, it was fully justified by facts. In power of reasoning, in grasp of principles, in comprehensiveness of view, he was not only "not a whit behind the chiefest apostles," but far before them. His letters are by far the most remarkable of the writings which the New Testament contains. They evince a mind almost overburdened by the mass of feelings struggling for expression. He is profoundly penetrated with the new truth he has discovered, or rather which Christ has discovered to him, and he seems to have scarcely time to consider how he may best express it. His mind, though wealthy in ideas and fertile in applying them to practice, is not always clear. It seems rather to struggle with its thoughts than to command them. Hence a certain confusedness in style, a crowding together of notions in a single sentence, and a want of logical arrangement in his presentation of a subject, which render his epistles not altogether easy reading. It may have been those characteristics which caused another apostle (or one who wrote in that apostle's name) to say that there were some things in the writings of his beloved brother Paul that were "hard to be understood" (2 Pet. iii. 16).

When, however, the uncouth style is surmounted, the thought will be found well worthy of consideration. Of all the writers in the New Testament Paul is the one who presents the largest materials for intellectual reflection. Whether or not we agree in his views, we can scarcely refuse to consider his arguments. And herein he is peculiar among his associates. He is the only one of the canonical writers who has any notion of presenting arguments for consideration at all. While others dogmatize, he reasons. He may reason badly, but he has at least the merit of being able to enter in some degree into the views of his opponents, and of attempting to reply to them on rational grounds.

Another striking feature of the mind of Paul is its robustness. Brought up a Pharisee, a sect devoted to extending the regulations of the law to the utmost minutiæ, he nevertheless rose completely above the domination of trifles. Even matters which in most religions are regarded as of capital importance, he treated as of little moment in themselves. Ceremonies, observances, outward forms of every kind he held in slight esteem in comparison with moral conduct. Not the mere knowledge of the Jewish law or the power of teaching it to others, is of any avail, but the observance of its ethical precepts (Rom. ii. 17-23). Uncircumcision is just as good as circumcision, provided the uncircumcised man keep the law. The true Jew is not he who is a Jew outwardly, nor true circumcision that performed upon the flesh. He is the true Jew who is one inwardly, and that is true circumcision which is in the heart (Rom. ii. 24-29). Indeed, in the renovated condition which is effected by Christianity, there is neither Greek nor Jew; neither circumcision nor uncircumcision; neither barbarian, Scythian, slave, nor freeman; but Christ is everything and in everything (Col. iii. 11.—Gal. iii. 28). In the same rationalistic spirit he lays down the admirable rule that external forms are valuable only to those who think them so. One man believes he may eat everything; another eats only herbs. One man esteems all days alike; another esteems one day above another. The freethinker must not despise the one who holds himself bound by such things, nor must this latter condemn the freethinker. The really important matter is that every one should have a complete conviction of his own. In that case, whatever conduct he pursues in these trivialities, being dictated by his conscience, is religious conduct. On the one side, the more scrupulous must not pass judgment on the less scrupulous, that being the office of Christ; but, on the other side, the less scrupulous must endeavor not to give offense to the more scrupulous. In illustration of this doctrine Paul confesses that to him personally the Jewish distinction between clean and unclean meat is totally unmeaning; yet if his brother were grieved by his eating the so-called unclean meats, he would rather give up the practice than destroy by his meat ones for whom Christ had died. All things, indeed, are pure in themselves, yet it is not well to eat flesh or drink wine if another is scandalized thereby. We who are strong-minded, and have surmounted these childish scruples of our forefathers, must bear the infirmities of the weak rather than please ourselves (Rom. xiv., xv. 1).

Certainly when the things are in themselves totally indifferent, the principle of concession to the superstitions of minds governed by traditional beliefs may sometimes be advantageously adopted. But the importance of protesting against the bondage exercised by such beliefs over human life is also not to be underrated, and Paul seems scarcely to give it sufficient weight in the preceding argument. No doubt on the ground of policy, and in reference to the desirability of keeping the members of the nascent sect from internal quarrels, Paul was right; but a principle which in certain cases may be expedient for a given end, is not to be set up as a universal rule of ethics. Nor is it obvious that Paul intended to do this. He himself, if questioned, would probably have admitted that there were limits beyond which concession ought not to go, those limits being fixed by the consideration that such concession, if pushed too far, must end in the perpetual subordination of the whole of the Christian body to the weaknesses of its least enlightened members. The morality expressed in the lines

"Leave thou thy sister when she prays Her early heaven, her happy views, Nor thou with shadowed hint confuse A life that leads melodious days,"

is good morality under certain conditions, but there is too great a tendency on the part of those who retain their "early heaven" to press this conduct upon those whose "faith has centre everywhere, nor cares to fix itself to form." It ought not to be forgotten that but for the Christian disregard of forms, persevered in in despite of the scandal to the Jews, Christianity must always have remained a branch of Judaism.

A peculiar merit to be set to Paul's account is, that he is the only one of all the writers in the New Testament who treats the supremely important question of the relations of the sexes, a subject so remarkably overlooked by Christ himself. Whether the guidance he affords his converts on this head is good guidance or not, he does at least attempt to guide them. Let us notice first what he considers abnormal relations, and then proceed to what he lays down as a normal one. In the first Epistle to the Corinthians he is loud in his denunciations of a man who cohabited with his father's wife, the father being, I presume, deceased. Whether the son had married his stepmother, or merely lived with her, is not altogether clear, since, in either case, the apostle might brand their connection with the title of fornication. However, he condemns it utterly and without reference to any accompanying circumstances, desiring the Corinthian community to deliver up the man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, in the name and with the power of their Lord Jesus, in order that his spirit might be saved at the day of judgment (1 Cor. v). Here then we have an early example of excommunication, accompanied by the formula to be used in performing the solemnity.

That the severe reproof bestowed by Paul upon the Corinthians for permitting such conduct greatly affected them, we gather from the tenderer language employed in the subsequent epistle, where he admits having at one moment repented that he had caused them so much sorrow, though he soon saw that it had been for their good (2 Cor. vii. 8-13). It is gratifying, also, to find that his tone towards the unfortunate individual who had been excommunicated at his desire is greatly softened, and that he desires the Corinthians to forgive him, and receive him back into their body, lest he should be swallowed up with too much sorrow (2 Cor. ii. 6, 7). It would have been interesting had he informed us why he considered cohabitation with a stepmother so terrible a crime, but such a recurrence to first principles was not to be expected. He, no doubt, acted on a purely instinctive sentiment of repugnance to such an arrangement.

A second kind of relation between the sexes which the apostle condemns is that of prostitution. Here he has not left us equally in the dark as to the grounds upon which his condemnation is founded. Not only does he prohibit prostitution to the Christians, but he tells them exactly why they ought not to indulge in it; and his argument upon this subject is sufficiently curious to merit a moment's examination. In the first place, then, he tells his disciples that neither fornicators, nor adulterers, nor Sodomites, nor practicers of various other vices not of a sexual nature, will inherit the kingdom of God (1 Cor. vi. 9, 10; Eph. v. 5). Fornication should not even be named among the Christians (Eph. v. 3). They must mortify their members upon earth, for impure connections and sexual license bring down the wrath of God (Col. iii. 5, 6). They must exclude from their society any one who is guilty of such irregularities (1 Cor. v. 9-11). "The body is not for prostitution, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body." The bodies of Christians are the members of Christ: "Shall I then take the members of Christ, and make them the members of a prostitute? God forbid. What! do you not know that he who is joined to a prostitute is one body? for the two [he says] shall be one flesh" (1 Cor. vi. 13-16). It was surely a very original notion of Paul's to extend to the casual connections formed by the temporary passion the solemn sanction bestowed upon the permanent union of man and wife. It is said in Genesis that a man and his wife are to be one flesh, and this is obviously an emphatic mode of expressing the closeness and binding character of the alliance into which they enter. But what may appropriately be said of married persons cannot of necessity be said of persons linked together only by the most fleeting and mercenary kind of ties. The very evil of prostitution is, that the prostitute and her companion are _not_ one flesh in the allegorical sense in which husband and wife are so; and to condemn it on account of the presence of the very circumstance which is conspicuously absent, is to cut the ground from under our feet. But let us hear the apostle further. "But he that is joined to the Lord is one spirit. Flee prostitution. Every sin that a man commits is outside of the body [what can this mean?], but the fornicator sins against his own body. What! do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit in you? which you have of God, and you are not your own" (1 Cor. vi. 17-19). Now in this singular argument it is noticeable that the ground taken up is entirely theological. Destroy the theological foundation, and the ethical superstructure is involved in its ruin. Thus, if we do not believe that our bodies are the members of Christ, nor the temples of the Holy Spirit, Paul has no moral reason to give us against the most unlimited indulgence in prostitution. While, even if we admit his premises, it is not very easy to see how his conclusion follows. For why should we not make the members of Christ those of a prostitute, unless it be previously shown that it would in any case be wrong to do so with our own members? It would not (according to Paul himself) be wrong to make the members of Christ members of a wife; why, then, should it be wrong to make them members of any other woman whatever? Clearly this question could not be answered without an attempt to prove, on independent grounds, the evil of promiscuous indulgence of the sexual passion. But no such attempt is made by Paul. He has therefore failed completely to make out a case against even the most unbridled license. Not that his conclusion need therefore be rejected. On the contrary, the danger of his arguments is not that his view of morals is fundamentally erroneous, but that he rests an important precept upon a dangerously narrow basis.

Pass we now to that which he considers as the normal relation between the sexes. The subject may be divided into three heads: that of the formation of such relations, that of their character when formed, and that of their disruption. Upon all of these the apostle has advice to give.

In the first place it appears that the Corinthians had applied to him for a solution of some question that had been raised among them as to the propriety of entering at all into the matrimonial state. In answer to their inquiries he begins by informing them that it is good for a man not to touch a woman. He would prefer it if every one were like himself unmarried. To unmarried people and widows he says that they had better remain as they are. Concerning virgins of either sex he delivers his private opinion that their condition is a good one for the present necessity. A married man indeed should not endeavor to get rid of his wife; but neither should an unmarried man endeavor to obtain a wife. The time is so short till the final judgment of the world that it makes little difference; before long both married and unmarried will be in the same position. Meantime, however, celibacy is the preferable state; and that because celibates care for the things of the Lord, how they may please the Lord; but married people care for one another, and study to please one another (1 Cor. vii. 1-34). Why Paul should suppose that married people, even while studying one another's happiness, might not also endeavor to please the Lord, it is hard to understand. He seems in this passage to lend his sanction to the very dangerous doctrine that a due discharge of the ordinary duties of life is incompatible with attention to the service of God. As if the highest type of Christian life was not precisely that in which both were combined in such a manner that neither should be sacrificed to the other. But, apart from this fundamental objection to his theory it is liable to the remark that the assumptions on which it rests are untrue. Unmarried persons, unless the whole literature of fiction, dramatic and novelistic, utterly belies them, care at least as much to become married as married persons care to promote one another's comfort. Indeed, it would be no less true to nature to say, that the unmarried in general take more pains to please some persons of the opposite sex than husbands take to please their wives, or wives their husbands. Not to dwell upon the fact that courtship involves a greater effort, mental and physical, than the mere continuance of love assured of being returned, there is the obvious consideration that the mere outward circumstances of the unmarried are far less favorable than those of the married to the enjoyment of their mutual society without considerable sacrifice of time. Hence the estimate made by Paul of the relative advantages of the two states is untrue to facts, except in the rare cases of those who have firmly resolved upon a life of celibacy, and who, in addition to this, have so perfect a control over their passions, or so little passion at all, as to be untroubled by sexual imaginations.

That these objections are well founded might be proved by reference to a picture (drawn either by Paul himself or by some one who assumed his name) of the conduct of young widows. Having to consider the question what widows may properly be supported by the charity of the Church, this writer refuses to admit any of them to the number of pensioners until they are sixty years old, apparently on the ground that they cannot be trusted to give up flirting altogether before they have reached that age. Young widows are to be rejected, for when they have begun to wax wanton against Christ, they wish to marry; a damnable tendency, but one which it is so hopeless to get rid of, that the best thing they can do is to marry, to have children, and manage their households. Otherwise they will gad about gossiping and tale-bearing from house to house; not only idle, but mischievous (1 Tim. v. 9-15). So that the ideal conception of unmarried persons caring only to please the Lord had at least no application to Christian widows.

While recommending celibacy, Paul is careful not to encourage breach of promise of marriage. If a man thinks he is behaving unhandsomely towards his betrothed, who is passing the flower of her age, he may marry her: he is not doing wrong. Nevertheless, if he feel no necessity for a sexual relation, and resolve to keep her a virgin, he does well. So then marriage is good, but celibacy is better (1 Cor. vii. 36-38).

Notwithstanding these views, Paul, or at least the Pauline Christian who wrote the first Epistle to Timothy, by no means contemplates a celibate clergy. It is specially enumerated among the qualifications of a bishop that he is to be a good manager of his household, keeping his children well in order; for (it is argued) if a man cannot rule his own house, how will he be able to take care of the Church of God? The only limitation placed upon the bishops is that they are not to be polygamists. They, as well as the deacons, are to keep to a single wife (1 Tim. iii. 1-5).

Notwithstanding his general preference for celibacy, Paul recognizes certain reasons as sufficing to excuse the establishment of a sexual relation, and it is important to note what, in the apostle's judgment, these reasons are. Now it is remarkable that he seems to perceive no consideration whatever in favor of the matrimonial condition but its ability to satisfy the sexual appetite. To avoid fornication a man is to have his own wife; if people cannot restrain themselves, they should marry, for it is better to marry than to burn. Those who marry are not guilty of sin, although they will have trouble in the flesh (1 Cor. vii. 2, 9, 28). Such a view of the functions of matrimony as this is simply degrading. It treats it as exactly equivalent to prostitution in the uses it fulfills, and as differing only in the durability of the connection. But if the whole object of the connection is merely to gratify passion, its greater durability is but a questionable advantage. For exactly as marriage is recommended "to avoid fornication," so divorce might often be recommended to avoid adultery. A union of which the main purpose is to give a convenient outlet to desire, had better be broken when it ceases to fulfill that office to the satisfaction of both the parties. It is strange that Paul should seem to have no conception whatever of the intellectual or moral advantages to be derived from the sympathetic companionship of one of the opposite sex. Perhaps his age presented him with scarcely any examples of marriages in which that companionship was carried into the higher fields of human thought or action. Yet he might still have acknowledged something more in the emotion of love than a special condition of the human body. Christianity has done much to raise the character of marriage, but not one of its achievements in that respect can be credited to the writings of its chief apostle.

Such being the grounds on which the matrimonial bond was to be contracted, it was natural that when contracted, the relation of the parties to each other should not be one of a very exalted order. Paul has, in fact, little of moment to recommend under the second head (that of the character of these relations) except the subjection of women, and on this he is certainly emphatic enough. Wives are to submit themselves to their own husbands: husbands are to love their wives (Col. iii. 18, 19.—Eph. v. 22, 25). An extraordinary reason is given in one epistle (possibly indeed not written by Paul) for requiring women to learn with subjection, and forbidding them to teach, or usurp authority over men. It is that Adam was formed first, and Eve after him, and that Adam was not deceived, but Eve was (1 Tim. ii. 11-14). Scarcely less absurd than this is the argument (and again I must note that it occurs in an epistle of doubtful authenticity) that the husband is the head of the wife, as Christ is of the Church, and that just as the Church is subject to Christ, so must wives be subject to their husbands. And as Christ loved the Church, so are husbands to love their wives, considering them as equivalent to their own bodies, which they cannot hate (Eph. v. 22-33)—although it did not appear that when man became "one body" with a prostitute he was therefore to love her. These views of the duty of submission on the part of wives are not indeed surprising in that early age, for they have continued to the present day. The writer of these epistles is only chargeable with not being in advance of his fellow-men. It required all the genius of Plato, whom not even the greatest apostle could approach, to foreshadow for women a position of equality which they are but now beginning to attain.

Besides these rules there is another laid down by Paul for the conduct of married parties which evinces his strong common sense. Husbands and wives are mutually to render one another their "due." They have not absolute power over their own bodies. They must not therefore defraud one another of conjugal rights, unless for a short time with a view to fasting and prayer, and then only with mutual consent (1 Cor. vii. 3-5). Paul therefore would have given no sanction to that very questionable form of asceticism in which husbands deserted their wives, or wives their husbands, to pursue their own salvation, regardless of the happiness of their unfortunate consorts. All such persons he would have bidden to return to the more indisputable duties of the marriage-bed.

Such a doctrine, however, to make it properly applicable to practice, would require to be supplemented by a doctrine of divorce; otherwise there is no provision for the case of an invincible repugnance arising in one of the parties towards the other, or in both towards each other. And this brings me to the third head of the apostle's teaching; his views on the disruption of the marriage-tie. Here he has little to say except that the wife is not to quit her husband, or that, if she do, she must remain unmarried or be reconciled to her husband; and that the husband is not to put away his wife. In cases where one is a Christian and the other not, they are not absolutely under bondage: they may separate, though it does not appear that they may marry again. But the apostle strongly advises them to keep together, in the hope that the believing member of the couple may save the other (1 Cor. vii. 10-16). It is plain from this summary that the apostle, no more than his Master, faces the real difficulties of the question of divorce. For the case of unhappy unions, except in the single instance of the one party being a Christian, he has no provision whatever. It is remarkable, however, that he several times intimates in the course of this chapter that he is not speaking with the authority of Christ, but simply expressing his personal opinions; a proviso which looks as if he himself were unwilling to invest these views with full force of the sanction they would otherwise have derived from his apostolical commission.

There is another subject on which the opinions expressed by Paul are open to considerable comment—the resurrection of the dead. In a chapter which for its beauty and its eloquence is unparalleled in the New Testament, he discusses the Christian prospect of another life. Had he confined himself to rhetoric I should have been contented simply to admire, but he has unfortunately mingled argument with poetic vision in a very unsatisfactory manner. In the first place, he attempts to deduce the resurrection of the dead from the resurrection of Christ. If, he contends, there be no resurrection of the dead, then Christ is not risen; our preaching is vain, and so also is your faith (1 Cor. xv. 12-20). He fails to perceive that the resurrection of Christ—a man whose whole life, according to him, was full of prodigies—could be no guarantee for the resurrection of any other individual whatever. Christ had already been restored to life in a manner in which no other person had ever been restored. His body had been reanimated after two days, before it had had time to suffer decomposition, and that without the intervention of any other person, competent like Christ himself, to perform a miracle. How then could so unprecedented an occurrence warrant the expectation of the reanimation of those who had been long dead, and whose bodies had suffered decomposition? Plainly there is here a palpable _non sequitur_. Christ might be raised without this fact involving a general resurrection; and a general resurrection might happen without Christ having been raised. Further on he makes a still more amazing blunder. Answering a supposed antagonist, who puts the natural question, "With what body are the dead raised?" he exclaims, "Fool! that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die;" (1 Cor. xv. 36.) implying that he conceived the change undergone by seed dropped into the ground to resemble the death of the human body. Now it is needless to point out that the organic processes constituting physical life do not cease in the grain which (as he says) grows up into wheat or some other corn; and that if they did cease, that "body that shall be," which he compares to the bodies of men in their expected resurrection, never would appear at all. The grain, in short, would not grow. An adversary, had he been on the alert, might have retorted upon Paul (borrowing his own courteous phraseology): "Idiot! that which thou sowest is not quickened _if_ it die." Such a retort would have been completely crushing. Another very fatal mistake of Paul's is the contention that if the dead do not rise, we have no reason to do anything but enjoy the passing hour. "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die" (1 Cor. xv. 32). Nothing can be more dangerous than such language as this; for if a man bases his moral system upon the belief in a future life, the destruction of that belief will involve the destruction of his moral system. It is founding the more certain upon the less so; universal conceptions upon special ones; that which is essential to human existence upon the doctrines of a particular creed held only by a portion of the human race. The argument is a favorite one with theologians, because it enlists in favor of the doctrine of a future state all the strong attachment by which we cling to principles of morals. None the less is it illegitimate, and it ought to be sternly rejected.

Next in beauty to this eloquent description of the future state of man may be reckoned the extremely fine chapter on brotherly love in the same epistle. Brotherly love, according to Paul, never fails, though intellectual gifts, such as prophecies, tongues, and knowledge, will pass away. Hope, faith, and brotherly love are joined together by him as a trinity of virtues which "now abide;" but the greatest of these is brotherly love (1 Cor. xiii).

Scattered about in the writings of this apostle there are also some admirable maxims of conduct, extremely similar in tone to those of Jesus. Thus, he tells his fellow-Christians to be kindly affectioned one to another; to bless those that persecute them—to bless and not to curse; to return no man evil for evil; give food to a hungry enemy and drink to a thirsty one; and generally, not to be overcome by evil, but to overcome evil by good (Rom. xii. 10-21.—1 Thess. v. 15). It were much to be wished that he himself had remembered these beneficent rules of conduct in the case of Alexander the coppersmith, who he says did him "much evil," and concerning whom he utters the significant prayer that the Lord may reward him according to his works (2 Tim. iv. 14).

SUBDIVISION 3.—_The Apocalypse._

The author of the Apocalypse, or Book of Revelation, who professes to have seen the vision he describes at Patmos, gives himself the name of John; a circumstance which led in former times to the belief that the work was the composition of John the disciple of Jesus. It is a rather late production, having been written subsequently to the establishment by Paul of Gentile Christian communities in various parts of Asia. It also presupposes the existence of a sect of heretics termed Nicolaitanes, who had arisen in some places, and was therefore probably not written until some time after the foundation of these churches by the great apostle.

The author endeavors to add lustre to his work by proclaiming at its outset that it was committed to writing under the direct inspiration of Jesus Christ himself, who dictated it to him, or rather showed it to him, when he was "in the Spirit on the Lord's day." Notwithstanding this exalted authorship, it is a production of very inferior merits indeed. It is conceived in that style of overloaded allegory of which the art consists in concealing the thought of the writer under images decipherable only by an initiated few. The Book of Daniel is an example of the same kind of thing. A false interest is excited by this style from the mere difficulty of comprehending the meaning. How widely it differs from that mode of allegory which possesses a real literary justification, may be shown by comparing the Apocalypse with the "Pilgrim's Progress." In Bunyan, the thought is revealed under clear and transparent images; in John, it is concealed under obscure and turbid ones. Hence there have been endless interpretations of the Apocalypse; there has been only one of the "Pilgrim's Progress." That characteristic which Holy Writ has been shown to possess of calling forth a multitude of comments and speculations upon its meaning belongs in a preëminent degree to the Revelation of John.

After writing by the instructions of Christ a letter to each of the Seven Churches, the author proceeds to describe his vision. There was a throne in heaven, upon which God himself was seated. He had the singular appearance of a jasper and a sardine stone. Beasts, elders, angels, saints, and a promiscuous company besides were around the throne, engaged in performing the ceremonies of the celestial court. Various works were executed according to orders by the attendant angels. A beast then arises out of the sea, and is worshiped by those whose names are not in Christ's book. "Babylon the Great," under the form of a harlot, is judged and put an end to. An angel comes down from heaven and binds "that old serpent, which is the Devil and Satan," for a thousand years. During this millennium Christ reigns on earth, and all who have been martyrs for his sake, or have not worshiped the beast, rise from the dead to reign with him. After the thousand years are over Satan is unfortunately released from prison, and does a great deal of mischief, but is ultimately recaptured again and cast into a lake of fire and brimstone. A second resurrection, for the unprivileged multitude, now takes place. All the dead stand before God, and are judged by reference to the records which have been carefully kept in heaven in books provided for the purpose. All who are not in the book of life are thrown into the lake of fire, to which death and hell are consigned also. The inspired seer is now shown a new heaven, a new earth, and a new Jerusalem which comes down from heaven. For a moment he rises from the extremely commonplace level upon which he usually moves to an eloquent picture of that happier world in which "God shall wipe away all tears from" the eyes of men; when "there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain." The book concludes with a curse upon any one who shall in any manner tamper with it, either by way of addition or erasure, and with a promise from Jesus that he will come quickly.

SUBDIVISION 4.—_The God of Christendom._

Although the God whom Jesus thought himself commissioned to represent, and in whom his disciples believed, is the historical continuation of the Jehovah of Hebrew Scripture, yet his character is in many important aspects widely different. No longer the arbitrary and irascible personage who continually interfered with the current of human affairs, rewarding here, punishing there; now overthrowing a monarch, now destroying a nation; he exercises a calmer and more equitable sway over the destinies of the world. As the servile occupants of the bench in former days too often combined the functions of prosecutors with those of judges, so Jehovah in the ancient times of Israel had sometimes thrown off the judicial dignity to act with all the _animus_ of a party to the cause. This was natural perhaps where the subject-matter of the inquiry was the worship and honor to be paid to himself. It was natural that he should take a strong personal interest in such cases; but as all opposition (among the Jews at least) had passed away, and he remained in exclusive possession of the throne, he could afford to treat the charges with which he had now to deal—mere infractions of morality, for example—in a much more impartial spirit.

In addition to this cause of transformation, the natural growth of religious feeling had tended to replace the older deity by a modified conception, and Jesus, falling in in this respect with the course of thought already in progress, contributed to effect a still further modification in the same direction. Hence, although there is nowhere an absolute break between the old and the new conceptions, the God of the New Testament is practically a very different person from the God of the Old. We cannot conceive him doing the same things. The worst action, in the way of interference in mundane matters, of which the God of the New Testament is guilty, is, perhaps, the sudden slaughter of Ananias and Sapphira. But what is this to such enormities as the deluge, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, or the commission of bears to devour little children who had ridiculed the baldness of a prophet? Horrors like these, so consistent with the general mode of procedure of the ancient Jehovah, are wholly incompatible with the characteristics so often ascribed to the more recent God. According to the theories of the New Testament, the crime committed by the Jews in executing Jesus was at least as great as the crimes for which the antediluvians and the Sodomites had been so ruthlessly exterminated. Yet we cannot imagine Jesus as even wishing for the extermination of his contemporaries by water or by fire. The God whose love for mankind he had been teaching could not for a moment be thought of as consenting to such a course. While Elijah the Tishbite is represented as positively praying for the instant death of one hundred men who came to him with a message from his king, Jesus, on the contrary, is depicted as actually healing the only one of his enemies who had been in any way injured in effecting his arrest. Plainly when the conduct of the prophets is thus dissimilar, the deity whom they represent on earth is dissimilar also.

Another very marked alteration to be observed in passing from the character of Jehovah to that of God, is the emancipation of the object of worship from the limits of race. Jehovah was altogether a Jew. He kept the Sabbath-day; he loved fasts and festivals; he believed strongly in the virtue of circumcision; he was interested not so much in the general well-being of the human species, as in the success of the single people of whom he was the true leader in battle and the ultimate sovereign at home. What happened to all the remainder of mankind was to him a matter of trivial moment, although it might suit him occasionally to use them as instruments either for the chastisement or the restoration to favor of his beloved Israel. But God in the New Testament has largely cast off the special features of his race, and although he sometimes betrays his Judaic origin, he is in the main cosmopolite in his sympathies and impartial in his behavior. Though by no means catholic in religion, but holding exclusively to a single faith, he receives all who embrace that faith, of whatever nation, within the range of his favor. This great and deeply important change, though begun by Jesus, was in the main the work of Paul. If it was Jesus who constructed the tabernacle, it was Paul who built the temple.

While, however, there is an enormous improvement if we compare the administration of human affairs by Jehovah and by God, there is nevertheless a blot upon the character of God which suffices, if rigorously balanced against the failings of Jehovah, to outweigh them all. It is the eternity of the punishment which he inflicts in a future life. No amount of sophistry can ever justify the creation of beings whose lives are to terminate in endless suffering. But while the _reality_ of condemnation to such endless suffering would be a far more gigantic crime than any of the merely terrestrial penalties inflicted by the Hebrew Jehovah, the _belief_ in such endless suffering is quite consistent with a much higher general conception of the divinity than the one that coëxisted with the belief in those terrestrial penalties. The explanation of this apparent paradox is to be found in the fact that the necessary injustice of eternal punishment is not very easily perceived; that, in fact, it is not understood at all in the ruder stages of social evolution, and not by every individual even in so advanced a society as our own. Some degree of punishment for offenses is felt to be requisite; and it is not observed without considerable reflection that that punishment in order to be just must needs be finite; must needs, if imposed by absolute power, aim at the ultimate reformation of the criminal, not at his ultimate misery. And it takes a far higher degree of mental cultivation to feel this than it takes to feel the injustice of the violent outbursts attributed in the Old Testament to Jehovah. Tradition and custom alone could have prevented Jesus and his disciples from feeling shocked at these; while it was intellectual capacity which was needed to enable them to reject eternal punishment as incompatible with justice. Add to these considerations the very important fact that the conduct conducing to salvation, and avoiding condemnation in the future state, was supposed to be known to all men beforehand, being fixed by unalterable rules; while the conduct necessary to ensure the terrestrial rewards, and escape the terrestrial penalties of the Old Testament, was not known till the occasion arose; sometimes not till after it had arisen. Thus, Jesus lays down in his teaching both the rules to be observed by human beings if they would obtain the approbation of his Father, and the exact manner in which the violation of those rules will be visited upon them if they fail to repent and obtain forgiveness. But Jehovah only made his rules from time to time, and never announced beforehand what his punishments would be. Who, for instance, could tell what he would do to the Israelites for worshiping the golden calf? who could say whether he would treat gathering sticks on the Sabbath, as to which there was as yet no law, as a capital crime? still more, who could imagine that he would visit the action of a monarch in taking a census of Israel by a pestilence inflicted on the unoffending people? Plainly it was a very rude notion of deity indeed which was satisfied to suppose an arbitrary interposition in all such cases. The God of the New Testament may be more cruel, but he is also more consistent. If I may venture on a homely comparison, I should say that the Jehovah of the Israelites is like a capricious Oriental despot, whose subjects' lives are in his hand, while the God of Christendom rather resembles a judge administering a Draconian code in which there should be no gradations between capital punishment and entire acquittal. The laws may in fact demand more bloodshed than the tyrant; but their existence and administration by fixed rules would undoubtedly imply that a people had reached a higher grade of civilization. Moreover, exactly as government conducted by laws is capable of improvement by modification of the legislative enactments, while despotic government is essentially vicious, so the character of God admits of easy adaptation to the needs of a more cultivated state, while that of Jehovah can by no possibility be rendered consistent with a high ideal of divinity.

Such adaptation of the Christian God has actually taken place to a very large extent. The doctrine of Purgatory, leaving only the most incorrigible offenders to be consigned to hell, was already a considerable step in advance of the teaching of the New Testament. It got rid of the fundamental weakness in the conception of Jesus, wherein there was no proportion of punishment to offense; every sin, small or great, was either absolutely forgiven or punished to the uttermost extent. It effected the same beneficent change as Romilly effected in the English law. Precisely as our former code punished even trifling crimes with death or not at all, so the God of Jesus punished sin either eternally or not at all. Precisely as the excessive severity of English law led to the entire acquittal of many criminals who should have received some degree of punishment, so the excessive severity of God led to the belief and hope that many sinners would be entirely pardoned who should in justice have received some measure of correction. Thus, in both these cases, the undue harshness of the threatened penalty tended to defeat the very object in view.

But the character of the God of Christendom admits of a much more thorough reformation than that effected by the Catholic Church. Tender spirits, offended, like Uncle Toby, at the notion that even the worst of beings should be damned to all eternity, have simply refused to accept the notion of endless torture. Thinkers, aiming at a system of abstract justice, have sought to prove that it could not be. Theologians have contrived all sorts of shifts to dispense with the necessity of believing it. Modern feeling, whether on grounds of logic or of sentiment, has gradually come to suppress it more and more as an inconvenient article in the nominal creed, to be, if not consciously rejected, at least instinctively thrust as much as possible out of sight. There has resulted an idea of the Deity in which the harsher elements are swept away, and the gentler ones, such as his fatherhood, his care, and his love, are left behind. Such writers as Theodore Parker, Francis W. Newman, and Frances Power Cobb, have carried this ideal to the highest point of perfection of which it appears to be capable. Their God is still the God of Christendom, but refined, purified and exalted. The work which the Jewish prophets began, which Jesus carried on, at which all the nations of Christendom have labored, they have most worthily completed. Whether the ideal thus attained is destined to be final, whether it really represents the ultimate possibilities of religious thought that can remain as the corner-stone of a universal faith, are questions that can be answered only when we have undertaken the complete analysis of those most general constituents of all theological systems which the foregoing examination has disclosed. On that last analysis we are about to enter.

"Ach, mein Kindchen, schon als Knabe, Als ich sass auf Mutters Schoss, Glaubte ich an Gott den Vater, Der da waltet gut und gross.

"Der die schöne Erd' erschaffen, Und die schönen Menschen d'rauf, Der den Sonnen, Monden, Sternen, Vorgezeichnet ihren Lauf.

"Als ich grösser wurde, Kindchen, Noch vielmehr begriff ich schon, Und begriff, und ward vernünftig, Und ich glaub' auch an den Sohn;

"An den lieben Sohn, der liebend Uns die Liebe offenbart, Und zum Lohne, wie gebräuchlich, Von dem Volk gekreuzigt ward.

"Jetzo, da ich ausgewachsen, Viel gelesen, viel gereist, Schwillt mein Herz, und ganz von Herzen Glaub ich an den heil'gen Geist."

—HEINE.

THE

RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT ITSELF.