CHAPTER XI.

DOES KOHELETH CONTAIN GREEK WORDS OR IDEAS?

We now begin the consideration of the question, Are there any well-ascertained Græcisms in the language and in the thought of this obviously exceptional book? That there are many Greek loan-words in Targumic and Talmudic, is undeniable, though Levy in his lexicon has no doubt exaggerated their number. G. Zirkel, a Roman Catholic scholar, was the first who answered in the affirmative, confining himself to the linguistic side of the argument. His principal work,[394] _Untersuchungen über den Prediger_ (Würzburg, 1792), is not in the Bodleian Library, but Eichhorn’s review in his _Allgemeine Bibliothek_, vol. iv. (1792), contains a summary of Zirkel’s evidence from which I select the following.

(_a_) יָפֶה, in sense of καλός ‘becoming’ (iii. 11, v. 17). This is one of the Græcisms which commend themselves the most to Grätz and Kleinert. The former points especially to v. 17, where he takes טוב אשר יפה together as representing καλὸν κἀγαθόν (comp. Plumptre on v. 18). The construction, however, is mistaken (see Delitzsch). The second אשר indicates that יפה is a synonym of וטב ‘excellent.’ The notion of the beautiful can be developed in various ways. The sense ‘becoming,’ characteristic of later Hebrew, is more distinctly required in iii. 11.

(_b_) ‘In the clause לָמָּה חָכַמְתִּי אֲנִי אָז יֹתֵר (ii. 15) the words אָז יֹתֵר must signify ἔτι μᾶλλον: quid mihi prodest majorem adhuc sapientiæ operam dare?’ But the demonstrative particle אז means, not ἔτι, but ‘in these circumstances’ (Jer. xxii. 15). Its position and connection with יתר are for emphasis. The fact of experience mentioned makes any special care for wisdom unreasonable.

(_c_) ‘עֳשׂׂות טוֹב (iii. 12) is a literal translation of εὖ πράττειν.’ This is accepted by Kleinert and also by Tyler. The very next verse seems to explain this phrase by ראה טוב (comp. v. 17); certainly the ethical meaning is against the analogy of ii. 24, iii. 22, and similar passages. But should we not, with Grätz and Nowack, correct רְאוֹת טוב in iii. 12?

(_d_) ‘כִּי הָאֱלֹהִים וגו (v. 19) must mean, God gives him joy of heart. ענה “respondere” seems to have borrowed the meaning “remunerari” from ἀμείβεσθαι, which has both senses. The ancient writer of the book thought thus in Greek, ὅτι θεὸς ἀμείβεται (αὐτὸν) εὐφροσύνῃ τῆς καρδίας.’ Zirkel forgets Ps. lxv. 6. See however Delitzsch.

(_e_) הֲלָךּ־נֶפֶשׁ (vi. 9) = ὁρμὴ τῆς ψυχῆς [M. Aurelius iii. 15]. But the phrase is idiomatic Hebrew for ‘roving of the desire.’

(_f_) יֵצֵא אֶת־כֻּלָּם (vii. 18). ‘The Hebrew writer found no other equivalent for μέσην βαδίζειν.’ But unless he borrowed the idea (that of cultivating the mean in moral practice), why should he have tried to express the technical term?

(_g_) כִּי־זֶה כָּל־הָאָדָם (xii. 13). ‘A pure Græcism, τοῦτο παντὸς ἀνθρὼπου.’ But how otherwise could the idea of the universal obligation to fear God have been expressed? Comp. the opening words of iii. 19.

To these may be added (h) ביום טובה (vii. 14) = εὐημερία (see however xii. 1); (i) the ‘technical term’ טור (i. 13, ii. 3, vii. 25) = σκέπτεσθαι [but good Hebrew for ‘to explore’]; (k) פתגם (viii. 11) = φθέγμα; (l) פרדם (ii. 15) = παράδεισος (see above).

No one in our day would dream of accepting these ‘Græcisms’ in a mass.

Zirkel tried to prove too much, as Grätz himself truly observes. Any peculiar word or construction he set down as un-Hebraic and hurried to explain it by some Greek parallel, ignoring the capacity of development inherent in the Hebrew language. His attempt failed in his own generation. Three recent scholars however (Grätz, Kleinert, and Tyler), have been more or less captivated by his idea, and have proposed some new and some old ‘Græcisms’ for the acceptance of scholars. To me it seems that, their three or four very disputable words and phrases are not enough. If the author of Koheleth really thought half in Greek, the Greek colouring of the language would surely not have been confined to such a few expressions. If מה־שהיה (vii. 24) were really derived from τὸ τί ἐστιν, as Kleinert supposes, should we not meet with it oftener? But the phrase most naturally means, not ‘the essence of things,’ but ‘that which hath come into existence;’ phenomena are not easily understood in their ultimate causes, is the simple meaning of the sentence. I have said nothing as yet of the supposed Græcism in the epilogue—the last place where we should have expected one (considering ver. 12). But Mr. Tyler’s proposal to explain הַכֹּל (xii, 13) by τὸ καθόλου or τὸ ὅλον (a formula introducing a general conclusion), falls to the ground, when the true explanation of the passage has been stated (see p. 232).

There are therefore no Græcisms in the language of the book. Of course _ideas_ may have been derived from a Greek source notwithstanding. The book, as we have seen already, is conspicuous by its want of a native Jewish background, nor does it show any affinity to Babylonian or Persian theology. It obviously stands at the close of the great Jewish humanistic movement, and gives an entirely new colour to the traditional humanism by its sceptical tone and its commendations of sensuous pleasure. It is not surprising that St. Jerome should remark on ix. 7-9, that the author appears to be reproducing the low ideas of some Greek philosophers, though, as this Father supposes, only to refute them.

‘Et hæc inquit, aliquis loquatur Epicurus, et Aristippus et Cyrenaici et cæteræ pecudes Philosophorum. Ego autem, mecum diligenter retractans, invenio’[395] &c.

Few besides Prof. Salmon would accept the view that Eccles. ix. 7-9 and similar passages are the utterances of an infidel objector (see Bishop Ellicott’s Commentary); but it is perfectly possible to hold that there are distinctively Epicurean doctrines in the Koheleth. The later history of Jewish thought may well seem to render this opinion probable. How dangerously fascinating Epicureanism must have been when the word ‘Epicuros’ became a synonym in Rabbinic Hebrew for infidel or even atheist.[396] It is indeed no mere fancy that just as Pharisaism had affinities with Stoicism, so Sadducæism had with Epicureanism. As Harnack well says, ‘No intellectual movement could withdraw itself from the influences which proceeded from the victory of the Greeks over the Eastern world.’[397] Mr. Tyler,[398] however, and his ally Dean Plumptre, have scarcely made the best of their case, the Epicurean affinities which they discover in Koheleth being by no means striking. Much use is made of the _De Rerum Naturâ_ of Lucretius—a somewhat late authority! But if points of contact with Lucretius are to be hunted for, ought we not also to mention the discrepancies between the ‘wise man’ and the poet? If Lucr. i. 113-116 may be used to illustrate Eccles. iii. 21, must we not equally emphasise the difference between the festive mirth recommended by Koheleth (ix. 7, 8 &c.) and the simple pleasures so beautifully sung by Lucretius (ii. 20-33), and which remind us rather of the charming naturalness of the Hebrew Song of Songs?[399] The number of vague analogies between Koheleth and Epicureanism might perhaps have been even increased, but I can find no passage in the former which distinctly expresses any scholastic doctrine of Epicureanism. For instance the doctrine of Atomism assumed for illustration by Dean Plumptre,[400] cannot be found there by even the keenest exegesis; the plurality of worlds is not even distantly alluded to, and the denial of the spirit, if implied in iii, 21 (see p. 212), is only implied in the primitive Hebrew sense, familiar to us from Job and the Psalter. The recommendation of ἀταραξία (to use the Epicurean term), coupled with sensuous pleasure (v. 18-20), requires no philosophic basis, and is simply the expression of a _pococurante_ mood, only too natural in one debarred from a career of fruitful activity. Lastly, there is nothing in the phraseology either of the Hebrew or of the Septuagint to suggest an acquaintance with Epicureanism.

A stronger case can be made for the influence of Stoicism. The undoubted Oriental affinities of this system and its moral and theological spirit would, as Mr. Tyler observes, naturally commend it to a Jewish writer. We know that, at a somewhat later day, Stoicism exercised a strong fascination on some of the noblest Jewish minds. Philo,[401] the Book of Wisdom, and the so-called Fourth Book of Maccabees, have undeniable allusions to it; and more or less probable vestiges of Stoicism have been found in the oldest Jewish Sibyl[402] (about B.C. 140) and in the Targum of Onkelos.[403] But how does the case stand with Koheleth? First of all, are there any traces of Stoic terminology? That terminology varied no doubt within certain limits, and could not be accurately reproduced in Hebrew. Still even under the contorted forms of expression to which a Hebrew-writing Stoic or semi-Stoic might be driven we could hardly fail to recognise the familiar Stoic expressions, εἱμαρμένη, πρόνοια, φαντασία, φύσις, φρόνησις, ἀρετή. The Septuagint version ought to help us here. But among the twenty words almost or entirely peculiar to the Greek of Ecclesiastes, the only two technical philosophic terms are σοφία and γνῶσις.

Next, can we detect references to distinctive Stoic doctrines? Mr. Tyler lays great stress in his reply on the Catalogue of Times and Seasons (iii. 1-8), which he regards as an expansion of the Stoic ὁμολογουμένως ζῆν But the idea that there is an appointed order of things, and that every action has its place in it, is much more a corollary of the doctrine of Destiny than of the doctrine of Duty. The essence of the latter doctrine is that men were meant to conform and ought to conform to the Universal Order, acquiescing in that which is inevitable, shaping in the best way that which is possible to be moulded. Upon this the practical ethics of Stoicism depend. But this is the very point which is absent in Ecclesiastes. The Catalogue of Times and Seasons ends not with the Stoic exhortation ἐκπληροῦ τὴν χώραν, ‘Fulfil thy appointed part,’ but with the despondent reflection of the Fatalist, ‘What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he toileth?’ (iii. 9.) A second argument is that the idea ‘There is no new thing under the sun’ (i. 9) is a phase of the Stoic doctrine of cyclical revolutions. But all that which gave form and colour to the Stoic doctrine is entirely absent—especially, as Mr. Tyler himself admits, the idea of ἐκπύρωσις. The idea, as it is found in Ecclesiastes, has nothing Stoic or even philosophical about it. It is simply an old man’s observation that human actions, like natural phenomena, tend to repeat themselves in successive generations.[404]

That there are analogies between Stoicism and the ideas of Koheleth need not be denied; Dr. Kalisch has collected some of them in his very interesting philosophico-religious dialogue.[405] Prominent among these is the peculiar use of the terms ‘madness’ and ‘folly.’ ‘From the followers of Zeno,’ remarks Dean Plumptre,[406] ‘he learned also to look upon virtue and vice in their intellectual aspects. The common weaknesses and follies of mankind were to him, as to them, only so many different forms and degrees of absolute insanity (i. 17, ii. 12, vii. 25, ix. 3).’ But this division of mankind into wise men and fools is common to the Stoa with the ancient Hebrew sages who ‘sat in the gate.’ When the great populariser of Stoicism says, ‘Sapientia perfectum bonum est mentis humanæ,’[407] he almost translates more than one of the proverbs which we have studied already. Another point of contact with Stoicism is undoubtedly the Determinism of the book, which, as Prof. Kleinert observes, leaves no room for freedom of the will, and fuses the conceptions of εἱμαρμένη and πρόνοια (see especially chap. iii.). But such Determinism need not have been learned in the school of Zeno. It is genuinely Semitic (did not Zeno come from the Semitic Citium?) What is the religion of Islam but a grandiose system of Determinism? Indeed, where is virtual Determinism more forcibly expressed than in the Old Testament itself (e.g., Isa. lxiii. 17)?

Those who adopt the view which I am controverting are apt to appeal to somewhat late philosophic authorities. I cannot here discuss the parallelisms which have been found in the Meditations or Self-communings (Τὰ εἰς ἑαυτόν) of the great Stoic emperor. Some, for instance, consider the ῥύσεις καὶ ἀλλοιώσεις which ‘renew the world continually’ (_M. A._ vi. 15) and the περιοδικὴ παλιγγενεσία τῶν ὅλων (_M. A._ xi. 1) to be alluded to in Eccles. i. 5-9. More genuine are some at least of the other parallelisms, e.g. Eccles. i. 9, _M. A._ vi. 37, vii. 1, x. 27, xii. 26; Eccles. ii. 25, _M. A._ ii. 3 (_ad init._); Eccles. iii. 11, _M. A._ iv. 23 (ad init.); Eccles. vi. 9, _M. A._ iv. 26; Eccles, xi. 5, _M. A._ x. 26. I admit that there is a certain vague affinity between the two thinkers; both are earnest, both despair of reforming society, both have left but a fragmentary record of their meditations. But the ‘humanest of the Roman race’[408] stands out, upon the whole, far above the less cultured and more severely tried Israelite. Alike in intellectual powers and in moral elevation the soul of the Roman is of a truly imperial order. He is not, like Koheleth, a ‘malist’ (see pp. 201-202); he boldly denies evil, and his strong faith in Providence cannot be disturbed by apparent irregularities in the order of things. It is true that this does but make the sadness of his golden and almost Christian book the more depressing. But the book _is_ ‘golden.’[409] Koheleth and M. Aurelius alike call forth our pity and admiration, but in what different proportions!

If, then, there are points of agreement between Koheleth and M. Aurelius, there must also of necessity be points of disagreement. Every page of their writings would, I think, supply them. Suffice it to put side by side the saying of Koheleth, ‘God is in heaven, and thou upon earth’ (v. 2), and M. Aurelius’ invocation of the world as the ‘city of God’ (iv. 23). The comparison suggests one of the greatest discrepancies between Koheleth and the Stoics—the doctrine of God. Such faith as the former still retains is faith in a transcendent and not an immanent Deity. The germs of a doctrine of Immanence which the older Wisdom-literature contains (Kleinert quotes Ps. civ. 30, Job xxvi. 13), have found no lodgment in the mind of our author, who is more affected by the legal and extreme supernaturalistic[410] point of view than he is perhaps aware.

Mr. Tyler’s introduction to his _Ecclesiastes_ is a work of great acuteness and originality, and seeks to provide against all reasonable objections; I cannot do justice to it here. One part of his theory, however, is too remarkable to be passed over (see above, pp. 240, 241). He supposes that Stoic and Epicurean doctrines were deliberately set over against each other by the wise man who wrote our book, in order by the clash of opposites to deter the reader from dangerous and unsatisfying investigations. The goal of the author’s philosophising thus becomes the negation of all philosophy, and this ‘sacrificio dell’ intelletto’ he insinuatingly commends by the subtlest use of artifice. Such a theory may have occurred to one or another early writer (see Ginsburg), but seems out of harmony with the character of the author as revealed in his book. He is not such a weak-kneed wrestler for truth. You may fancy him sometimes a Stoic, sometimes an Epicurean; but he always speaks like a man in earnest, however his opinions may change through the fluctuations of his moods. Mr. Tyler’s theory confounds Koheleth’s point of view with that of a far inferior thinker, the author of Ecclesiasticus (see above, p. 199).

I cannot, therefore, be persuaded to explain this enigmatical book by a supposed contact with Greek philosophy such as we do really find in the Book of Wisdom. I have no prejudice against the supposition in itself. It would help me to understand the Hellenising movement at a later day if Stoic and (still more) Epicurean ideas had already filtered into the minds of the Jewish aristocracy. The denunciations in the Book of Enoch (xciv. 5, xcviii. 15, civ. 10) not impossibly refer to a heretical philosophical literature (see p. 233); the only question is, To a native or to a half foreign literature? I see no sufficient reason at present for adopting the latter alternative. Koheleth is really a native Hebrew philosopher, the first Jew who, however awkwardly and ineffectually, ‘gave his mind to seek and explore by wisdom concerning all things that are done under heaven’ (i. 13). Very touching in this light are the memoranda which he has left us. They are incomplete enough; Koheleth is but the forerunner of more systematic philosophisers. His ideas are nothing less than scholastic; how could we expect anything different, his first object being in all probability to soothe the pain of an inward struggle by giving it literary expression? If, however, I was compelled to suggest a secondary reference to any foreign system, I could most easily suppose one to the pessimistic teaching of Hegesias Peisithanatos, who, after Ptolemy Soter and Philadelphus had made Alexandria the seat of the world’s commerce and the centre of Greek literature and culture, was seized with the thought of the vanity of all things, of the preponderance of evil, and of the impossibility of happiness.[411] Koheleth’s teaching would be a safeguard to any Jew who might be tempted by this too popular philosopher. He admits ματαιότης ματαιοτήτων, but insists that, granting all drawbacks, ‘the light is sweet’ (xi. 7), the living are better off than the dead (ix. 4-6), and sensuous pleasure, used in moderation, is at least a relative good (ii. 24); also that it is futile to inquire ‘why the former days (of the earlier Ptolemies?) were better than these’ (vii. 10), and, if a later view of his meaning may be trusted, he sought to displace the many dangerous books which were current by words which were at once pleasantly written and objectively true (xii. 10, 12).

Koheleth is a native Hebrew philosopher. The philosophy of an eastern sage is not to be tied up in the rigid formulæ of the West. Easterns may indeed take kindly to Western doctrines; but where they think independently, they eschew system. Koheleth’s seeming Stoicism is, as we have seen, of primitive Hebrew affinities; his seeming Epicureanism, if it be not sufficiently explained as a mental reaction against the gloom of the times, may perhaps be connected more or less closely, not with the schools of Greek philosophers, but with the banquet-halls of Egypt. The Hebrew writer’s invitations to enjoy life remind us of the call to ‘drink and be happy,’ which accompanied the grim symbolic ‘coffin,’ or mummy, at Egyptian feasts (probably they were funeral-feasts), according to Herodotus (ii. 78), and of the festal dirges translated by Goodwin and Stern.[412] A stanza in one of the latter may be given here. It is from the song supposed to be sung by the harper at an anniversary funeral feast in honour of Neferhotep, a royal scribe, and still to be seen cut in the stone at Abd-el-Gurna, in the Theban necropolis. As Ebers has remarked,[413] the song ‘shows how a certain fresh delight in life mingled with the feelings about death that were prevalent among the ancient Egyptians, who celebrated their festivals more boisterously than most other peoples.’ By a poetic fiction, the dead man is supposed to be present, and to listen to the song.

Make a good day, O holy father! Let odours and oils stand before thy nostril. Wreaths of lotus are on the arms and the bosom of thy sister, Dwelling in thy heart, sitting beside thee. Let song and music be before thy face, And leave behind thee all evil cares! Mind thee of joy, till cometh the day of pilgrimage, When we draw near the land which loveth silence.

We have seen that the Wisdom of Sirach betrays a taste for Egyptian festivity (p. 191). May we not suppose that Koheleth too had travelled to Alexandria? This view commends itself to Kleinert, and I have no objection to it with due limitations. Koheleth may have envied and sought to copy the light-hearted gaiety of the valley of the Nile. But we ought not to conceal the fact that the lines quoted above are followed by others which have no parallel in Koheleth.

Good for thee then will have been (an honest life), Therefore be just and hate transgressions, For he who loveth justice (will be blest). (They in the shades) are sitting on the bank of the river, Thy soul is among them, drinking its sacred water. ... (woe to the bad one!) He shall sit miserable in the heat of infernal fires.

There is a wide difference between a people who believed in a happy Amenti where Osiris himself dwelt and the Jew who doubted much but believed firmly in Sheól. I admit then the probability that the latter had travelled, and was not unaffected by the brightness of Egyptian society, but I see no reason to suppose that he knew and was influenced by the expressions of Egyptian songs. The resemblances adduced are to me as fortuitous as those between the love-poems of the Nile valley and the Hebrew Song of Songs, or (we may add) as that striking one between Eccles. i. 4 and some of the opening lines of the ‘Song of the Harper,’—

Men pass away since the time of Ra [the sun of day] And the youths come in their stead. Like as Ra reappears every morning, And Tum [the sun of night] sets in the horizon, Men are begetting, And women are conceiving.[414]

I make no excuse for the length of this inquiry. If we could trace Greek influences, linguistic or philosophical, in the strange book before us, its date would be decided. Taking into account the circumstances of the writer, we might assign it to the reign of Ptolemy IV. Philopator, when the Egyptian rule began to be calamitous for Judæa. Kleinert would place it rather in one of the early, fortunate reigns (_Herzog-Plitt_, xii. 173); but he forms perhaps too favourable a view of the social picture in Koheleth. Hitzig, who gives a very restricted range to Greek philosophical influence upon our book, and accepts none of Zirkel’s Græcisms, fixes the date in the first year of Ptolemy V. Epiphanes. Geiger, Nöldeke, Kuenen, Tyler, and Plumptre, on various grounds, think this the most probable period,[415] and the view is endorsed by Zeller, the historian of Greek philosophy.

A Maccabæan and still more a Herodian date seem to me absolutely excluded, though Zirkel and Renan have advocated the one, and Heinrich Grätz (see p. 240) the other. The book is certainly pre-Maccabæan, not merely because of a Talmudic anecdote,[416] but because of its want of religious fervour (comp. Esther) and its cosmopolitanism. The germs of the Jewish parties may be there, but only the germs. To me Hitzig’s is the latest possible date; but if we _must_ admit a vague and indirect Greek influence, should we not place the book a little earlier as suggested above? But I do not see that we _must_ admit even a vague Greek influence. The inquiring spirit was present in the class of ‘wise men’ even before the Exile, and the circumstances of the later Jews were, from the Exile onwards, well fitted to exercise and develope it. Hellenic teaching was in no way necessary to an ardent but unsystematic thinker like Koheleth. _The date proposed by Ewald and Delitzsch is on this and other grounds probable, and on linguistic grounds not impossible._

There are two recent treatises on the philosophical affinities of Koheleth which may be mentioned here, though only the first is known to me. Paul Kleinert, who has long made a special study of Koheleth (see his _Prediger Salomo_, 1864), contributed to the _Theolog. Studien und Kritiken_, 1883, p. 761, &c., a striking paper called ‘Sind im Buche Koheleth ausserhebräische Einflüsse anzuerkennen,’ and August Palm in 1885 published a _programme_ entitled ‘_Qohelet und die nacharistotelische Philosophie_’ (Mannheim).

Footnote 394:

He also published _Der Prediger Salomon; ein Lesebuch für den jungen Weltbürger; übersetzt und erklärt_ (1792). The very title bears the mark of the century.

Footnote 395:

_Opera_, ii. (1699), 765 (_Comm. in Ecclesiasten_). Comp. the use made of Koheleth’s phraseology by the author of Wisdom (ii. 6-10).

Footnote 396:

See _Sanhedrin_, x. 1:—אלו שאין להם חלק לעולם הבא האומר אין תחית המתים מן התורה ואין תורה מן שמים ואפיקורום.—Comp. _Aboth_, ii. 14 (10 Taylor), and _Genesis Rabbah_, 19 (‘the serpent was Epicuros’).

Footnote 397:

_Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte_, p. 46.

Footnote 398:

See his _Ecclesiastes, a Contribution to its Interpretation_, &c. (1874). The main results of this work were accepted by Prof. Siegfried, who reviewed it in the _Zeitschrift f. wissenschaftl. Theologie_, 1875, pp. 284-291.

Footnote 399:

This discrepancy I had noted down before observing that Dean Plumptre had quoted the very same passage of Lucretius as a parallel to Eccles. ii. 24. For my own view of Koheleth’s recommendations, see p. 253. Lucretius seems to me, in this strain, to soar higher than Koheleth; Omar Khayyâm to fall below him.

Footnote 400:

_Ecclesiastes_, p. 47.

Footnote 401:

Philo alludes, e.g., to the Stoic doctrine of revolutions (which some have found in Koheleth) and remarks that the Stoics think of God as of a boy who builds up sandhills, and then throws them down again.

Footnote 402:

Hilgenfeld, _Jüdische Apokalyptik_, p. 51, &c.

Footnote 403:

See Deut. viii. 18, and especially Gen. ii. 7 (Neubürger in Grätz’s _Monatsschrift_, 1873, p. 566).

Footnote 404:

For this criticism upon Mr. Tyler’s view of iii. 1-8, I am indebted to Dr. Hatch.

Footnote 405:

_Path and Goal_, p. 116. But see p. 92.

Footnote 406:

_Ecclesiastes_, p. 45.

Footnote 407:

Seneca, Ep. 89, quoted by Bruch, _Weisheitslehre der Hebräer_, p. 253, with reference to the teaching of Proverbs.

Footnote 408:

R. H. Stoddard, _The Morals of M. Aurelius_.

Footnote 409:

Comp. Niebuhr, _Lectures on the History of Rome_, iii. 247.

Footnote 410:

The phrase is objectionably modern, but in this connection could not be avoided.

Footnote 411:

Zeller, _Philosophie der Griechen_, ii. 1, p. 278.

Footnote 412:

_Records of the Past_, iv. 115-118; vi. 127-130.

Footnote 413:

‘Cairo, the Old in the New,’ _Contemp. Rev._, xliii. 852.

Footnote 414:

_Records of the Past_, vi. 127.

Footnote 415:

Geiger, _Urschrift_, pp. 60, 61; Nöldeke, _Die alttestamentliche Literatur._, p. 175; Kuenen, _Hist.-krit. Onderzoek._, iii. 188. _Theologisch. Tijdschrift_, 1883, p. 143.

Footnote 416:

See reference, p. 280.