xiv. 7), "the spring of judgment," would seem to indicate that springs

were used for the purpose of obtaining oracles, but by what signs this was effected is not known. The name of the spring in Gen. xvi. 14, where the angel appeared to Hagar, is significant in this connection: "the well of the living one who seeth me."

In the customs of worship, and in all customs to which there is attached a definite religious significance, we find analogies in the heathen religions which show that they must have had a common origin. Chief among these must be classed the custom of sacrifice. It is natural, therefore, to find that sacrifice, which has such an undoubtedly natural explanation in heathen religions as either the food of the god or a means of propitiation, is nowhere in the Old Testament explicitly defined as to its intent and meaning. The root idea is, however, clearly seen in such customs as that of the setting forth of the Shewbread, however much the meaning may have become spiritualised by a purer idea of the nature of Jehovah, while in Ezek. xliv. 7, 15, this seems to be quite explicitly stated. As the conception of Deity was spiritualised, the idea of material food would doubtless grow too repugnant to be retained in the bare offering of flesh, and so we get the burnt-offering, the smoke of which Jehovah can smell. The blood especially, forms the correct offering, since being the seat of life, it belongs altogether to God. On the idea of the sacrifice being used as a propitiation to the Deity, it follows naturally that the more costly the victim the more acceptable it will be, and of all sacrifices the most efficacious will be that of a human being. The story of Abram and Isaac in Gen. xxii. is made to serve as a condemnation of human sacrifices, but the origin of the story may very well have pointed the other way, as indeed the first part of the story does; and that the practice was common may be seen from 2 Kings xvi. 3; xxi. 6; Jer. vii. 31; xix. 5 (Delete the last words of Jer. xix. 5, as an evident gloss from vii. 31). True, in these passages human sacrifice is said to be in express contravention of the will of Jehovah, but no such comment is added to the story of Jephthah (Judges xi. 30 ff.), while in Micah vi. 7, the sacrifice of the firstborn is simply classed among other sacrifices as part of the common idea. A remnant of this horrible practice is probably to be found in the consecration of the firstborn to Jehovah, while the legality of human sacrifice is determinative in the common practice of the "ban," by which all captives were devoted to Jehovah, and any violation visited by the direst vengeance; as in the case of Saul and Agag. Another use of the sacrifice was that of ratifying a covenant by cutting a victim in parts, between which the contracting parties passed (Gen. xv. 9-17; Jer. xxxiv. 18).

Much the same result will be found from enquiry into the origin of special feasts and customs that are said to have been instigated at the express command of Jehovah; for there is evidence which shows that they were often customs common amongst the heathen, and were only invested with a new significance by the higher religion of the Hebrews. Among these it is likely that we must reckon even the Passover, for the daubing of the lintels is said to be a common heathen practice, and it will be noticed in support of the pre-Mosaic origin of the ceremony that at its first mention in Exod. xii. 21, it is called _the_ Passover. The meaning of the Hebrew word translated "Passover" is also capable of another meaning than that given in the story of its institution, a meaning which also points to its being the survival of a Semitic and heathen custom. Similar enquiry into ancient religions of the Semitic type shows that originally circumcision had no special religious significance, but was probably a sign of puberty and the right to marry. As manners softened it became a family rite and there was no need to postpone it till years of manhood. The practice of wearing special garments at religious rites is also found in heathen religions, and still maintains itself in our habit of wearing "Sunday clothes."

The results of these enquiries are sufficiently startling to those who have been accustomed to regard the religion of Israel as starting from some definite act of revelation which ordained these ordinances and their religious meaning for the first time. But it is common enough in history to find that customs persist long after their original significance has been forgotten, and that they are gradually invested with a meaning more appropriate to the spirit of the age. We are not, however, shut up to the conclusion, that, because we can trace much of the wonderful religion of Israel to common causes acting upon heathen religion, there is no real work of revelation in this gradual progress from lower to higher stages. It would be quite useless, from the point of view of this book, to enter on the fruitless discussion as to whether in the evolution of religion we have to deal with a natural process or with a supernatural revelation. Is any such antithesis necessary? Surely the one can come through the other. If revelation is to reach us it must come through the ordinary processes of our minds; the recognition that it is from God cannot be authenticated to us by any miracle or outward authority, but simply by the possibility of the mind, which God has made, being able to recognise its Maker. It may be more of a difficulty to others that we should have such erroneous conceptions of history in a Book that has been regarded as infallible on these matters. We have to face the fact, from which there is no escape, that the historian may not have known the origin of the things of which he wrote, or may have intentionally obscured the fact of the heathen origin of customs that had become to all pious Israelites expressions of Jehovah's special revelation to Israel. If we are going to call this fraud, then it means that we are going to force on that early age a conception of historical accuracy which it certainly did not possess, and which, as a matter of fact, is only a late demand of the human mind. And after all, there was truth in this reference of all their religion to the revelation of Jehovah. It witnesses to the fact that behind even the crudest religion there is something which defies explanation, and that we have in heathen religions the slow dawning consciousness of God within man's soul. In Israel these things never stood still. That central idea of the localisation of Jehovah grew too small to contain the widening conception of Him as it was evolved through reflection and national experience, until the Prophets burst forth with the proclamation that He was the God of the whole earth, and His relation to Israel not tribal or territorial, but moral, and only to be maintained by righteousness and true holiness.

MOSAISM

The reader is recommended to make a careful study of the following passages, which are among the most important adduced by the critics as evidence for the non-Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch.

(1) Mosaic authorship is never claimed for the Pentateuch as a whole. Only in certain places is it noted that Moses wrote down special things (Exod. xvii. 14; xxiv. 4; xxxiv. 27; Num. xxxiii. 2; Deut. xxxi. 9, 22, 24). Moses is consistently spoken of in the third person, and it is hardly likely that this is a style purposely adopted, or the statement of Num. xii. 3 would be extraordinary in the circumstances. Obviously the last chapter of Deuteronomy was not written by him, nor is the common opinion that it was added by Joshua at all probable, for there is no difference in style from the rest of the book discernible, and, moreover, Dan is referred to (Deut. xxxiv. 1; cp. also Gen. xiv. 14), which was not so named until after the conquest. (Josh. xix. 47; Judges xviii. 29.) Would Moses need to authenticate his history of contemporaneous events by quoting from what are regarded as ancient books: from the Book of the Wars of Jehovah (Num. xxi. 14), wars which could have only just commenced, or from the poem which refers to the victory over Sihon (Num. xxi. 27 ff.), which took place at the very end of the forty years' wandering?

(2) The standpoint as a whole is that of an age later than Moses. The remark in Gen. xxxvi. 31 can only have had any meaning in the age of David when Edom was in submission to Israel. A late date is also needed for the following passages: Gen. xii. 6; xiii. 7; xxxiv. 7 ("in Israel"! cp. Judges xx. 10; 2 Sam. xiii. 12); Lev. xviii. 27; Deut. ii. 12; iv. 38. In fact, the whole geographical outlook is that of an inhabitant of Western Palestine, as may be seen from the use of the term "Seaward" to indicate the west, and of "Negeb," or the desert land, for the south. These terms are used even in the description of the Tabernacle, which, if taken from the site of Mount Sinai, would be altogether wrong and meaningless. Compare Num. xxii. 1; xxxiv. 15; Deut. i. 1, 5; iii. 8; iv. 41, 46, 49: "beyond the Jordan," showing clearly that the writer's position is in Palestine, west of the Jordan.

(3) There is no trace in the history of any observance of the Levitical ritual until after the exile; the day of atonement, the sin-offering, the high-priest, all are unheard of until this date. Nor can it be claimed that it was the ignorance of the common people, or their apostasy, that was responsible for this condition of things. The great leaders of the various reformations are apparently also quite ignorant that none but a priest could sacrifice, and none but a Levite take charge of the ark. Samuel, who was not a Levite, sleeps beside the ark and offers sacrifice. Elijah does nothing to recall the people to the ritual of Leviticus.

(4) The conclusion is that, while later ages were right in attributing to Moses the founding of their religion and some of their ritual, all the accumulation of law, which had only been the growth of many centuries, has been placed to his credit. What the actual contribution of Moses was it is now impossible to say, but the original of the Ten Words and of the Book of the Covenant (Exod. xx. 2-xxiii. 33) may well go back to that age, as may be seen from the relative simplicity of the laws and rules. For example, compare the simple regulations for the altar in Exod. xx. 24 with the elaborate altar described in Exod. xxvii. 1-8.

Lecture III

MOSAISM

The national consciousness of Israel goes back to a series of remarkable events in which the nation was born, and which are too deeply graven on the mind of the people to be mere legends without historical foundation. These events are the deliverance from the bondage in Egypt and the great covenant made with Jehovah at Sinai. The indispensable personal centre, round which these events revolve, is that of the great national leader, Moses. The fact that, outside the Pentateuch and the closely connected Book of Joshua, little is known of the work of Moses until after the exile, has given rise to doubts concerning his historical reality. If we take the writings of the Old Testament that are contemporary with the period they describe, there stand out in indisputable primacy the writings of the great literary Prophets. To these modern criticism has rightly turned to discover the opinions, customs, and religion, prevailing in the Eighth Century; and it is claimed that by these writings we can test the historical value of the Pentateuch, and of the other historical books. Now it must be admitted that in the pre-exilic Prophets the mention of Moses is less frequent than we should expect from the position which is claimed for him in the books of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. The Prophets do appeal with one consent to the original covenant of Jehovah with Israel, to the fulfilment of which they would recall the nation; but only rarely is the name of Moses associated with that covenant. There are only four references to Moses in the Prophets before the exile (Hosea xii. 13--Moses not actually named; Micah vi. 4; Jer. xv. 1; Isa. lxiii. 12--reckoned post-exilic by critics), and in none of these is Moses referred to as a law-giver, but as a prophet and national deliverer. We have to come to Prophets writing after the exile to find any reference to the legislative work of Moses (Mal. iv. 4; Dan. ix. 11-13). The purpose of the prophetic writings is moral rather than historical, and this forbids putting more evidential weight upon this argument from silence than it will bear; but in face of their continual appeal to the covenant of Sinai, this silence is at least significant. Evidently Moses was not a name to conjure with in their age. (Compare Jer. xxxi. 31, 32, where the mention of the name of Moses would have been most natural.)

We have, on these and other grounds, to disregard the later idea that Moses was the only law-giver of Israel and the author of the Pentateuch, although the fact that the later legislation could only find sanction as it was included under his name, points to him as in some way the initiator of Israel's great Code of Laws. While in addition to this, it must be admitted that a great deal of the story of his life is due to the growth of legend, there is no need to regard the figure of Moses as entirely mythical. The events by which a motley crowd of serfs became a nation and covenanted themselves to an almost new religion not only need for their explanation a great interpreter, but also a great leader; and this demand and need Moses fills. We may therefore safely regard Moses as one of the great Founders of Religion.

We have now to enquire how much of the marvellous story of his life can be safely reckoned as history. The document which gives the earliest, and therefore the most trustworthy, story of his life is dated by the critics in the Ninth Century, although it is not denied that it may, and probably does, go back for its material to a much earlier period. This document, known to the critics as "J," owes its origin to early prophetic influence. In this document, as might be expected from the analogy in similar cases (compare the absence of the birth stories in Mark), the story of the birth and finding of Moses is omitted; it is probably nothing more than an effort to find a popular explanation of his name, as derived from _Mashah_, "to draw out." A much more likely origin of the name is found by modern scholars in the Egyptian word for "son" (_Mesu_). The important thing to be noticed is that in this early document he appears first of all in Midian, although there are indications which show that it is known that he had previously been in Egypt. Here, alone in the wilderness, or in intercourse with the strange Bedawin who still inhabit that region, there came to him a revelation of Jehovah and the call to deliver Israel from their bondage. He returned to Egypt with a message at once religious and national. He calls upon the Israelites to leave Egypt and to seek a covenant with Jehovah at His shrine at Sinai. During a plague, the passage of the Red Sea was effected under conditions that were interpreted to be due to the direct intervention of Jehovah; and, the returning tide cutting off the pursuing Egyptians who challenged their flight, the Israelites stood delivered from their enemies and their first trust in Jehovah was vindicated. It is not for us to enquire into the exact causes which proved so favourable to the Israelites and so disastrous to the Egyptians; we only need to know that they were interpreted religiously. Then around Mount Sinai, with its impressive solitude and its awful storms, Moses gathered the people, imparted the secret of the new worship, made a solemn covenant by which the people of Israel became for ever the people of Jehovah, and probably laid down some rudiments of legislation fitted for their primitive and nomadic condition. This much at least the after history demands as the irreducible minimum.

If this is at all an accurate view of the founding of the religion of Jehovah, then we are faced with the phenomenon of a nation practically adopting a new religion. We do not ignore "revelation" when we feel compelled to seek for natural causes which might prepare the way for this event; and this we may attempt by an enquiry into the meaning of the name "Jehovah."

It should be noted at the outset that "Jehovah" is a personal name, like that of Zeus or Poseidon, conveying the idea of some aspect of deity. The meaning of the name is exceedingly obscure. The general name for deity common to all Semites, and therefore belonging to the undivided primitive stock, is "El," meaning either "the Mighty One" or, and more in accord with Semitic conceptions of God, "the Leader." The meaning of the name "Jehovah" is difficult to discover, because in the first place the exact pronunciation of the word has been lost, probably beyond recovery.

The word "Jehovah" is a hybrid compound, and as a matter of fact was never used as a name for God until the Reformation. We can be certain only that the consonants of the word were _JHVH_ (or _YHWH_, Hebrew pronunciation). This extraordinary state of things is accounted for by the fact that for centuries the Hebrew Scriptures were "unpointed" or unvocalised--that is, the consonants only were written and the necessary connecting vowels were taught orally, and only retained in the memory for use when the Scriptures were read aloud. When in the Ninth Century A.D. it was likely that the pronunciation of the sacred language would be entirely forgotten, a device for its preservation was made whereby the vowel pronunciation was indicated by means of "points" placed chiefly underneath the consonantal text; very much like the dots and dashes used for vowels in Pitman's system of shorthand. When, however, it came to the "pointing" of JHVH, it was found that the pronunciation of this word had been entirely lost. Reverence for the name of God had become so exaggerated that, in reading aloud from the Scriptures, wherever the sacred name occurred another word had always been substituted. This word was one of respect, but of less marked exaltation--_Adonai_, equal to our word "Lord." The only course open to the punctuators was that of inserting under the consonants JHVH, the vowels (with suitable euphonic modifications) of the word _Adonai_, with the result that we get the conflate "Jehovah," a word which has become invested with so much solemnity to our ears, but which was certainly not the right pronunciation, and which has never been used by the Jews. Scholars have endeavoured, at present without any universally accepted result, to recover the lost pronunciation by linguistic enquiries, with the desire to discover what the word originally meant, in the hope that it would throw some light on the origin of the religion founded by Moses. In Exod. iii. 13 ff. (R. V. margin) we have the traditional explanation of the word, an explanation which is not altogether satisfactory from a grammatical point of view; the great Hebraist Ewald goes so far as to pronounce it highly artificial. It has been objected that the man who wrote this account, about 750 B.C., surely understood his own language. Probably; but that is not to say that he understood the etymology of it, for etymology is a new science, and has upset many popular derivations in the case of our own language. If the explanation given in Exodus is correct, and we cannot with certainty put anything much better in its place, then the meaning of the word "Jehovah" would be "He that is," perhaps an equivalent in Hebrew form to the Western idea of "The Eternal." Only one of the numerous guesses as to the meaning of the original name need be quoted here: that the word comes from a verb, _hawah_, meaning either "to fall," or "to blow." Similar ideas would seem to account for either of these meanings. "He who blows," looks like the name for the Tempest God, while "that which falls" has been taken to indicate a fallen meteorite, which may have been preserved as a symbol of Jehovah. When we remember the thunderstorms at Sinai, and the common belief that thunder was a special theophany of Jehovah, these ideas are not to be hastily dismissed as altogether incredible. Nor should we be prevented from considering such an idea from the prejudice that it would make the origin of the religion of Israel a piece of Nature-worship and superstition. God has taken man where He has found him, and none can dare to define the limits of childish and crude conceptions within which the Spirit of God can begin His work in man's mind.

The conclusion derived from the examination of the meaning of the name "Jehovah" must therefore remain open until some further light is thrown on the subject. (Scholars usually adopt the pronunciation, _Yahwe_, as our nearest approach to the original.)

An endeavour has been made to discover the origin of the religion of Israel from the persistent connection of Jehovah with the locality of Mount Sinai. This idea continues long after in the Promised Land (Deut. xxxiii. 2; Judges v. 5), and Elijah takes a long journey back to the sacred spot, presumably to get into closer touch with Jehovah (1 Kings xix.). With the prevailing beliefs of that age in the localisation of the god, this connection must be thought of as of more than accidental significance. It is fair to assume that the seat of Jehovah at Sinai must have been known before the great covenant, and is indeed required by the narrative itself (Exod. iii.; iv. 27), while recent discoveries are said to prove that the traditional Sinai must have been a sacred place from the earliest times. Moses, however, is clearly represented as coming to know of Jehovah during his stay in Midian. The exact means of the revelation is said to have been the sight of a bush on fire, yet miraculously unconsumed. What actually lies behind this story--whether it is a creation of the religious imagination which sees "every common bush afire with God"--it is useless for us to try and discover. A natural explanation has been sought in the fact that Jethro, the Kenite, was the priest of Midian, and presumably of some shrine of Jehovah. Certainly Jethro knew the name of Jehovah, but apparently only regarded Him as one of the gods, until the marvellous deliverance of the Exodus proved Him to be the greatest of gods (Exod. xviii. 9-11). Jethro performs an act of sacrifice to Jehovah, in the presence of Aaron and the elders, that looks remarkably like an act of initiation by which Israel are introduced to the worship of Jehovah by the regular priest of the shrine (Exod. xviii. 12). The hypothesis is further strengthened by the fact that the Kenites are found later dwelling in Palestine (Judges i. 16), and are always remembered long after as the friends of the Israelites (1 Sam. xv. 6; xxvii. 10; xxx. 29). The inference from this is that Moses first learned of Jehovah from his father-in-law Jethro, but that he understood more of the character of Jehovah than Jethro, and by his superior religious consciousness conceived of Him as in some way Supreme who to Jethro had been only one of the desert gods.

This theory would certainly be strengthened if Sinai could be identified, not with the traditional site of _Jebel Musa_ in the southern part of the Sinaitic peninsula, but with some spot in the land of Midian, across the gulf of Akaba. This does indeed seem necessary from the narrative, for from the most natural interpretation of Exod. iii. 1, Horeb, the mount of God, was in Midian. It is generally taken for granted that Horeb and Sinai are identical; the respective names are used by different documents. It is said that, for some reasons, Midian would fit in with the record of the journey through the wilderness better than the Sinaitic peninsula. If the parallelism of Sinai with Seir in Deut. xxxiii. 2 can be taken to show identity, as is natural, we have a further confirmation, for Seir is in Midian.

The grave difficulty of all this is that it would make the religion of Jehovah a distinct importation. Is such a thing as its reception by the Hebrews credible on this account? The idea of a nation changing its religion is certainly repugnant to the Semitic mind (Jer. ii. 10, 11), and some more natural connection seems necessary, both from the narrative and from general considerations. Now the narrative hints that the religion was not entirely new (Exod. vi. 3), but was known to the Patriarchs under different forms; while the sanctity of Sinai would seem to have been already known to some of the tribes (Exod. iv. 27). There is nothing here definite enough for us to proceed to historical certainty, but it is fair to suppose that the shrine at Sinai was known to the Patriarchs in their wanderings, and that Jehovah would be worshipped; as would any other local god whose territory they happened to be in. Grant that this was partly known to the Hebrew slaves in Egypt; that Moses received the revelation of the power of Jehovah in his exile in Midian, and by a splendid leap of inspiration identified the actual shrine and the Person of Jehovah with the Mighty Spirit dimly known to the Patriarchs, and we have an explanation that is natural and is also true; for the Object of man's worship has been One through all history. When the successful passage of the Red Sea and the defeat of the Egyptians were interpreted by Moses as the direct intervention of Jehovah, the transition to the great covenant is made possible. All this may be very contrary to the traditional idea of how Moses received the revelation of Jehovah, but the facts do point this way; and it is not for us to deny that the Spirit of God could work through these natural events and through the mind of this commanding personality, and so bring about this identification of Jehovah and the Great Spirit of the Patriarchal thought, which was to lead to such great results for religion.

We are now free to investigate what the character of the religion introduced by Moses actually was.

(1) _General Character._ A careful examination of its character shows that while it is by no means identical with the religion taught by the Prophets, and while it retained many heathen ideas and customs, yet it contained within itself the promise and guarantee of development. We have already had occasion to notice that it is not pure Monotheism. Jehovah is not the only God; He is the only God for Israel. The heathen deities are still regarded as having a real existence. Neither can it be called a purely spiritual religion, for Jehovah is rather said to have a spirit than to be a spirit; He has a form which, though terrible in its effect on the beholder, by reason of its glory, can nevertheless be seen; He inhabits a special place, which is His sacred territory, and on this Moses stumbles all unwittingly in Midian.

Still more emphatically against the idea of a purely spiritual religion is the fact--which the editors have done their best to hide, but not successfully--that images of some kind were allowed, or existed unreproved. The Ephod, of which we hear so often, was evidently at one time an idol. The meaning of the word is of something "covered," as may be seen from Isa. xxx. 22, where the feminine form of the word (_aphuddah_) is used of the gold plating of images; but according to a later idea (Exod. xxviii. 6-14), the Ephod formed part of the dress of the High Priest, and was a kind of embroidered waistcoat. This explanation, however, does violence to a number of passages where the Ephod is mentioned. Gideon expended seventeen hundred shekels of gold on an Ephod which he "set up" in Ophrah (Jud. viii. 26 f.); this cannot be a waistcoat. Only the explanation that the Ephod was an image can do justice to the reference in Judges xvii. 5, and it suits the passage in 1 Sam. xxi. 9, if we think of the sword hanging behind an image. If the ephod was nothing more than a waistcoat by which lots were determined, we have to explain why it is so sharply condemned in Judges viii. 27, and why the text of 1 Sam. xiv. 18, which in the Septuagint reads "ephod," in the Hebrew text has been altered to read "ark"; an alteration which is quite impossible here, as the ark was at this time in Kirjath Jearim, and, moreover, was never used for the purpose of obtaining oracles. (The only explanation is that some scribe has made this alteration because he knew that there was something idolatrous about the ephod.) Even as late as Hosea (iii. 4) we find the ephod mentioned in a connection where it can only stand for an object of idolatrous worship. It is certainly strange that the same name should be in use for an image, and then later for a garment of the high-priest; but the likely explanation of this is that the image was at one time clothed with a dress, as was usual (Jer. x. 9), and that in the pockets of this the lots were kept. When the use of the image became offensive the garment was retained as part of the high-priest's dress. The transition is made more natural if we can suppose that the Priest of the Oracle, in the early days, was accustomed to put on the garment of the image, under the customary idea that thus the divine knowledge of the idol would be communicated to him. In 2 Kings xviii. 4, we read of _Nehushtan_, the brazen serpent which Moses had made, being used idolatrously; but perhaps this has been wrongly ascribed to Moses. From the intimate connection of bull-worship with the worship of Jehovah, it would seem that the bull was regarded as a symbol of Jehovah; a similar idea may have instituted Aaron's golden calf. While admitting the force of this evidence, we must still keep open the possibility that the religion instituted by Moses was of a purer type, but was never strong enough to drive out the remnants of heathen practice.

More indisputable evidence of the materialistic conception of the Person of Jehovah is found in the reverence paid to what is known as "the ark of Jehovah," the making of which is certainly ascribed to Moses. The name "the ark of the covenant," was not the original name given to the ark, but is taken from the incident recorded in Deut. x. 1-5. The idea that the ark was built to contain the tables of the Law does not appear until the time of Deuteronomy, and is quite unknown to the older strata of the Pentateuch. In these older strata all mention of the actual making of the ark is omitted, although there is evidence that they did contain an account of its preparation and meaning. Enough, however, is told us of the reverential treatment of it, to show that it was a symbol of higher sanctity than a mere receptacle for the stones of the law would be likely to be. It is certainly very closely identified with Jehovah Himself, as may be seen from Num. x. 35. (This is in poetic form, and is therefore likely to be a very early fragment. It should be noticed that the ark apparently starts of itself.) Its presence in the battlefield ensures victory, while its absence brings about defeat (Num. xiv. 42-45; 1 Sam. iv. 3-7; v. 1 ff.). It can hardly be that the ark was taken for Jehovah Himself, but it must have contained something that was closely identified with Jehovah; a box is not built except with the idea of holding something. We have seen that it is unlikely that that something was originally the two tables of the law; was it something else of stone which made the transference to the tables of the law at once necessary and natural? Was it a stone image of Jehovah? It has been conjectured that it may have contained meteoritic stones, which would agree with the proposed derivation of "Jehovah" from the Storm God of Sinai. There is nothing in the Old Testament which gives any support to these conjectures, but in face of the fact that the original narrative of the making of the ark has been omitted, and in view of the ideas of religion which were common in that period, we cannot say that they are absolutely excluded from consideration. The ark was certainly bound up with the idea of war, and would seem to have been kept in a soldier's tent. It was transferred to the dark inner temple till 586 B.C., and from that date all trace of it is lost. The Priest's Code ("P") makes provision for it in the second temple, but we have unimpeachable Jewish testimony that the shrine of the inner temple was absolutely empty (Josephus, _War of the Jews_, v. v. § 5). Jeremiah may have been aware of the original significance of the ark as tending towards idolatry, and hence his words in Jer. iii. 16.

(2) _Ordinances of Worship._ It remains for us to enquire into the character of the religion founded by Moses by an examination of some of the outstanding ordinances that regulated the idea of worship.

Here the traditional ascription of the fully developed ritual of the Book of Leviticus to Moses has to be set aside, on the consideration that we have no record of its observance until late in the period of the monarchy, and from then it can be traced as a gradual growth of custom and ideal until its complete observance after the Exile.

There does not seem to have been any priesthood of the exclusive Levitical order founded by Moses. The story of the Levites in Exod. xxxii. can only be a late story, for there is no record of their monopoly of the ritual service until the Reform under Josiah: Joshua, an Ephraimite, is the "servant of the tent"; Samuel, also an Ephraimite, sleeps beside the ark (1 Sam. iii. 3); David and Solomon assume a kind of chief priesthood (2 Sam. vi. 13; 1 Kings viii. 5, 62 ff.), and of course neither of them were Levites. The story in Judges xvii. gives what is perhaps the true position of the Levites: anyone could be consecrated as a family priest, but the presence of a Levite was reckoned propitious. Down to a very late age sacrifice seems to have remained largely a tribal or family act, and although a descendant of Moses' tribe (Levi) was regarded as possessing special advantage, there was no law by which Levites alone were reckoned capable of discharging priestly functions.

In the matter of sacrifice, it would seem that Moses simply adopted what was a very ancient and common practice. In face of the evident neglect of the Levitical ritual in matters of sacrifice, both by the common people and by such great reformers as Samuel and Elijah, together with the fact that in the teaching of the prophets doubts are cast on its divine origin (Isa. i. 11; Amos v. 25; Micah vi. 6-8), we cannot infer that the detailed and explicit commands concerning sacrifice found in the Book of Leviticus are the work of Moses, or belong to an early age. To the Prophets, sacrifice is always reminiscent of paganism. The time when the change came in may be detected in the different value given to sacrifice by the post-exilic prophets (Mal. i. 13 f.), while the incompatibility of the two views, prophetic and priestly, can be seen from the addition which has been made to Ps. li., to bring it into accord with the later view.

Neither is it possible for us to believe that the elaborate shrine known as the Tabernacle owed its existence to Moses. The impossibility of transporting the cumbrous fixtures through the wilderness had been noticed before the modern era of critical study. A close examination of the details of construction shows that it is nothing more than an ideal projection from the mind of a priestly writer who believed that a tent-like counterpart of Ezekiel's temple was essential to Israel's worship in the wilderness. It is enough to recall that the tabernacle of the priestly writer's imagination is quite unknown to the historical books. In Exod. xxxiii. 7 ff., which may be seen to be only a fragment of an early document, since it starts abruptly by describing "the" tent, which is known as the Tent of Meeting, we have what has been taken to be the Tabernacle; but it is nothing more than a tent for keeping the ark in.

(3) _Legislation._ How much of the legislation of the Pentateuch is to be ascribed to Moses we cannot tell. Too many hands have been at work on it for the original to be discovered. A remarkable discovery was made in the year 1901 of some enormous _steles_, which bear in cuneiform characters what is now known as the Code of Hammurabi, the oldest code of laws in the world, the date of which is reckoned to be 2250 B.C. They presuppose an advanced state of civilisation and morality existing in the Euphrates valley at that period. The agreement between the Pentateuchal Code and the Code of Hammurabi argues dependence of the former on the latter to a very considerable extent, and supplies a still further testimony to the extent to which the religion of Israel is indebted to Babylon. The exact bearing of this discovery upon critical theories, and especially upon the date of the Pentateuch has perhaps hardly been estimated yet; it does not, however, refute the theory which denies that the Pentateuch as it stands is from the hand of Moses.

We naturally think of the Decalogue as the work of Moses, but here we are faced by the difficulty that the Decalogue appears to exist in three recensions (Exod. xx. 1-17; xxxiv. 14-28; Deut. v. 6-21). The account in Exod. xxxiv., which forms part of the document "J," is reckoned to be the oldest of these, and the original of this might well go back to the time of Moses. It has been objected that the Decalogue is too ethical to suit the time of Moses, but is this not because we are inclined to read into the Ten Commandments far more than is to be found there? It can be shown that they are little more than ten laws of "rights." A special difficulty is found in ascribing the second commandment to this age, in view of its frequent uncensured breach; but perhaps there is some difference that escapes us between a molten image, which is prescribed in the first draft (Exod. xxxiv. 17), and the later prohibition of the graven image (Exod. xx. 4).

In the foregoing examination we have allowed for the most rigorous demands of advanced criticism, demands which may have to be modified as criticism becomes more of a science, but there remains the need to discover what there was, on these critical assumptions, in the Mosaic religion that provided the way for a further advance into the faith which became the glory of Israel. What is it that makes the difference between Mosaism and the heathen Semitic religions, a difference which was to make the gradual growth of a pure Monotheism possible?

The first important element which needs to be reckoned with is that it was a religion of choice rather than a religion of nature. We saw that it was difficult to conceive how the religion of Jehovah could have been adopted by Israel unless there had been some previous contact. What is so difficult to understand is nevertheless the one element that contained the possibility of progress. The relation of Israel to Jehovah was neither by physical descent nor through the connection of the god with the land, as with the heathen Semitic religions. Jehovah was at first conceived of as the God of the tribe only, but even this was not by nature, but by His gracious choice. Their land was given to them by Jehovah, but His natural connection was with a far distant shrine. This fact in itself must have rendered necessary some more spiritual conception of His habitation, and, though hard enough for the common people to realise, when they entered Canaan and found a full-grown cultus and religion in connection with the god of the land already in possession, it was this fact upon which the Prophets fastened and which could not be denied: the religion of Jehovah was a matter of choice and not of racial or local connection. That choice had been ratified by solemn covenant, to which the Prophets appealed. The relation between Jehovah and Israel depended therefore on the conditions of the covenant being faithfully kept. When we compare the religions of the other Semites, which made the relation of the god and his people one which nothing could break, and from which neither the god nor the people could escape, we can see how this difference constituted one of the ethical germs of the religion which was destined to grow into fuller power and life.

There was another important conception, which was intensified by the fact that the religion of Jehovah was a religion of choice: that of the jealousy of Jehovah. This was often interpreted, especially in the pre-prophetic period, in a very crude and in even a cruel way. The jealousy of Jehovah was very like the human passion: uncertain, arbitrary and irrational, manifesting itself according to the popular mind in outbreaks of fury for ceremonial mistakes, or for causes even less comprehensible (Num. iii. 4; 2 Sam. vi. 7). In all the religions it was thought to be a serious thing to depart from the allegiance to the rightful god, and sure to lay one open to his jealousy and vengeance; but something more is now found in this idea as it develops in Hebrew thought: it is that the jealousy of Jehovah is due to the great difference between Him and the other gods, a difference which came to be recognised as one of character. Something of this must go back to Moses himself.

This difference is also expressed in the idea that He is a God of righteousness. The word "righteousness" does not always have in the Hebrew Scriptures the absolute meaning which it has for us. It was rather equal to our word "rights," which we often employ quite unethically. Jehovah was one who gave right judgments when questions were submitted and answered by the lot, and One who brought victory to the right. It was undoubtedly Israel's right that was chiefly considered, but there was hidden in it an ethical germ which was to bring forth notable fruit when man's sense of right was widened.

This at least was the mark of the new religion which Moses impressed on the people, impressed with such a force that it could never be quite forgotten. It had new thoughts pregnant with meaning for the mind of man and for the future of religion, and these became the fulcrum of the Prophets' appeal. From the bosom of this people was to come forth One who was to reveal the Father as perfectly righteous and impartial, and who demands for His service a righteousness that must far exceed that of the straitest observers of external religion.

It would be easy for us to despise this day of small beginnings, or to refuse to see in it any real revelation of God at all. Doubtless this enquiry may necessitate a change in our conceptions of the work of Moses, but it is one that we are forced to by a multitude of facts, and we must find a theory of inspiration wide enough to fit them. Crude as we may make the beginnings of Israel's faith, natural as we may feel are the laws by which it worked towards its growth, we have not been able to get any nearer to some of those ultimate questions which ask how religion begins, what the nature of revelation is, and how it comes to man's mind. We need not think that God had to break in on the mind of Moses, so that the personality of the man was in abeyance while God worked through him. When God wishes to bring men to a higher truth He does not supernaturally communicate it; He makes human nature to produce personalities whose minds come naturally to the truth. There can be no separation of natural and supernatural here; wherever that separation is to be made, we certainly cannot make it. There can be no meaning in revelation, and no possibility of it, unless God has made man's mind to be growingly in touch with Him and to be capable of receiving His revelation by the natural working of thought, so that it seems to spring up within his own consciousness.

Deeper into this question we are not called upon to go at present, but no one can object that it is less reverent, or that it shows signs of a decay of faith, if men can see God to-day not only in the extraordinary and the supernatural, but also in the ordinary and the natural. If the recognition of God depends on spiritual vision, then those who refuse to narrow the limits within which God can be seen, and who therefore welcome all truth with gladness and without fear, are not to be called godless and unspiritual.

We should learn to be thankful for Moses, for he was faithful as far as he knew; if we were as faithful in proportion to the fuller light which has come to us, religion would be a very real and inclusive thing. We should also learn to take heart, if from these beginnings such mighty movements have sprung. The mistakes inevitable to the human mind do not destroy the possibility of revelation, the error cannot everlastingly obscure the truth, nor in the long run will evil triumph over good. It was possible in that far off age, it was possible in all ages, it is possible now, for a mind still far from the true conception of the ultimate nature of God to yet grasp something, and by a supreme faith in the leading of a Mighty Power to lift a whole nation, and through it the world, one stage further on in goodness and truth.

THE INFLUENCE OF CANAAN

As an introduction to Lecture IV. the reader is advised to make a careful study of Judges i. 1-ii. 5, a mutilated fragment of a very early and reliable account of the invasion of Canaan. The opening words (verse 1) refer the events which follow to the period after the death of Joshua; but the Book of Joshua has already recorded the complete conquest of Canaan, so that there can be no place for this further invasion on a far less ambitious plan, and apparently with less successful results. It will be noticed, however, that this account easily falls away from the main body of the narrative; Judges ii. 6 follows naturally after Joshua xxiv. 28, and ignores what comes between. We have, therefore, in this account another history of the conquest of Canaan, which contradicts altogether the impression--which we get from reading the Book of Joshua--that the conquest of Canaan was effected by the tribes acting in unison, that it was complete, and that the conquered were exterminated; it records a movement of tribes acting independently, there is no "conquest" in the ordinary sense of the term, but a footing is obtained alongside the original inhabitants of the land.

This account of a gradual immigration of tribes is confirmed by the discovery of inscriptions, which seem to show that there were some tribes of the Hebrews in Palestine before the traditional date of the Conquest, and even before the Exodus.

Until quite lately the history of Egypt has thrown no light on these events. It has not even been possible to identify with any certainty the Pharaoh under whom the Exodus took place. One identification is now fairly certain. The Pharaoh who enslaved the Israelites was Rameses III., for discoveries have proved that it was he who built Pithom (Exod. i. 11); the Exodus has therefore been referred to the reigns of Merneptah or Seti II., his immediate successors. The objection to this is that in these reigns both the peninsula of Sinai and the land of Palestine were under full Egyptian control, and therefore the Exodus must be put later on, when this control slackened. This would bring the Exodus to the date of 1200-1180 B.C. and the Conquest some fifty years later.

The latest discoveries tend to throw this result into confusion. Names, which it is proposed to identify with tribes of the Israelites, have been found in inscriptions belonging to earlier reigns. On an inscription of Rameses II. the name of Asher is found as dwelling in North Palestine. In a list of Thotmes III. (still earlier, Sixteenth Century, B.C.) we find the names Jacob and Joseph in the significant combination, Jacob-el and Joseph-el, used to describe the Dan-Ephraim district of Palestine. This makes it more likely that the Tel-el-Amarna tablets (dated Fourteenth Century, B.C.) refer to the Hebrews. In these letters, addressed to Amenophis IV., the King of Jerusalem appeals for help against an invasion of the _Habiri_, who are led by Abd Ashera. The invasion is not by a large force, as may be seen from the fact that it is thought thirty or forty Egyptian soldiers will be sufficient for the purpose of resisting their attacks. More certain than any of these references is the occurrence of the name of Israel on a Stele of Merneptah, in connection with a recital of his triumphs in Syria. The form in which this reference is made leaves no doubt that, by this period, Israel was already settled in Palestine. ("Israel is laid waste, its corn is annihilated.") There is no confirmation of a Syrian campaign under Merneptah, and it may be that in accordance with the fashion of the age, he is including among his victories the exploits of his predecessors; this would agree with the earlier date for the occupation of Canaan by Israel which the previous references seem to require.

The exact bearing of these discoveries has yet to be determined, but they either require us to put the date of the Exodus earlier, which would in itself be difficult, or, what would bring light on many problems, assume that not all the tribes were in bondage in Egypt, and that the invasion of Canaan by various tribes, only long after welded into a nation, was spread over a long period.

Lecture IV

THE INFLUENCE OF CANAAN

If the nation of Israel may be said to have been born in captivity, baptised in the Red Sea, and awakened to national consciousness at Mount Sinai, then the settlement in Canaan corresponds to the no less critical period of adolescence, when, training and tutelage being over, youth must choose its own path and fight its way in the world. Certain it is that the entrance into Canaan largely determined the future of this people, for it must have profoundly modified the national character, turning as it did nomadic tribes into a settled and civilised people; but above all, and what more concerns us, it proved extremely critical for the fate of that as yet untried revelation of Jehovah, which had still to win its way against the heathenism of the common people, and was now by this new experience called upon to measure its strength against the attraction of a competing faith.

The peculiar and pathetic love of the Jews for Canaan is largely due to the remembrance that it was not their own land but the long promised gift of Jehovah, standing therefore to all time as the material proof of His love for Israel; while their estimate of it was intensely deepened by the wilderness experience which preceded. That estimate seems to us somewhat exaggerated, for to-day Palestine has almost given up the struggle against the always threatening advance of the desert. It has certainly changed for the worse under neglect and misrule, but it can never have been a too indulgent land; only comparison with the bare and awful desert can have called forth the description, "a land flowing with milk and honey." With the long memory of restless nomadic life and the bitter thought of bondage, any land would seem welcome that offered them freedom and safety; while to those approaching it from the desert it seemed as fair and fruitful a land as men could desire.

All lands have contributed largely to the character of the nations they have reared, and the wilderness ancestry and the character of Canaan have played their part in the development of Israel.

The very geographical position of Canaan helps us to understand the Hebrews, and even to see how it was that in this land it was possible to nurture from such unpromising beginnings the wonderful development of religion that was to make this smallest of all lands one of the most sacred spots on earth, and this strange and limited people among the greatest contributors to the moral and religious ideas of humanity. Crushed in between the sea and the desert, hemmed in by great military powers, the little buffer state itself the very crossways of East and West, its roads never long at rest from the tramp of armies; here was a land in which all dreams of fame and empire were hammered out, and nothing left possible save an empire of spiritual power and the fame of a unique religion. A people strangely proud and passionately exclusive, they could never rest under the dominion of their great neighbours, however light the burden imposed; and since sustained resistance was out of the question by reason of their inferior numbers and lack of military power, they resorted to irritating acts of rebellion, or intrigued with the enemies of their overlords, and so brought down on their land frequent vengeance. Such was their untameable nature that the only practical policy open to Babylon, if she wished to insure the loyalty, or at least, the neutrality of Palestine, was to deport the Jews bodily to where they could be under observation.

So we find the greatest heroes of Jewish history--from Moses, through Gideon and Samson, to David and Judas Maccabæus--are those who deliver the nation from oppression; while Israel's prayers are largely cries for succour against enemies, or for Divine vengeance on the oppressor; only too eloquent a witness of the sense of their own impotence. Yet it was precisely this experience that forced their religion to rise above the common type, to conquer its natural tendencies, and to become the most magnificent faith in God that the world has seen. Of this they themselves were not ignorant; for one of their writers points to the easy lot of Moab as the cause of their irreligion (Jer. xlviii. 11), and one of the Psalmists says that it is the men who have no changes who fear not God (lv. 19). We need not consider the utterly feeble objection that all this makes the religion of Israel the outcome of natural necessity, rather than of Divine revelation; for God made the land that made Israel.

The entry into Canaan was therefore one of the most critical periods in the history of this people and in the development of the religion of the Old Testament. It is, however, extremely difficult to discover from the means at our disposal just how or when that entry was effected. The sources for this period are found in the Books of Joshua and Judges, but, from comparison with much in the history that follows, it is clear that they do not present us with absolute history; yet a critical examination of these books enables us to recover the essential facts.

A study of the preface to this lecture will show that the story of the Conquest is obscure in its details and difficult to reconcile with modern discoveries. A careful examination of our sources shows that the description of the entry of the Hebrews into Canaan as a "conquest," which was settled by a few decisive battles, is at least rather fanciful; and as a matter of fact we have quite another picture in the first chapter of Judges, which partakes more of the character of an "alien immigration," a method of "conquest" in which the Jews have always been remarkably successful. The history in Joshua certainly represents the Conquest as striking, complete, and followed by a ruthless extermination of the defenders of their native land. In view of the relations that were for long maintained between the Canaanites and the Hebrews, the representation in Judges i. must be regarded as nearer to the facts than the story of the Conquest according to the Book of Joshua. The children of Israel dwelt side by side with the Canaanites, simply because they were not able to drive them out; and as a result the tribes were frequently divided by strong belts of Canaanitish territory. Right through the time of the Judges we get warfare between the Israelites and the inhabitants of the land; sometimes in pitched battles between the Canaanites and the united tribes of Israel (Judges iv. v.), but more generally in guerilla warfare or in the sudden surprise of a Canaanitish garrison (Judges xviii.). The result of the conflict seems to have been the gradual absorption of the two elements into one nation. The records definitely admit that it was not until the time of David that the Jebusites were driven from Jerusalem (2 Sam. v. 6, 7), and not until Solomon that the superiority of the Israelites was finally established (1 Kings ix. 20, 21). It surely is an immense relief to think that the huge slaughters recorded in the Book of Joshua are, to say the least, exaggerations.

The history in Judges also clearly shows that there was little cohesion between the tribes. They filtered across the Jordan only by degrees, and there is evidence that this process may have extended over a considerable time. We have records of quarrels between Gideon and Ephraim (Judges viii. 1), and between Jephthah and Ephraim (Judges xii. 1). These inter-tribal conflicts might have been serious, were it not for the circumstance that the Israelites were no sooner settled in the land than other tribes of desert invaders began to press upon them, and they had to sink family differences in order to combine against the common enemy.

The song of Deborah (Judges v.) is one of the most valuable documents we possess for the light which it throws on the conditions of religious and national life in this period, for it is probably the only document in the Old Testament, earlier than the founding of the monarchy, that is contemporary with the events it describes. It shows that the tribes had somewhat improved their position, for they now seem to be in possession of the highlands of Ephraim, although the plains are still in the hands of the Canaanites. The growing power of the Israelites and their threatening predominance moved the Canaanites to a united effort to repress Israel. It is to face this danger that the Prophetess Deborah calls the tribes; but from the way in which the praise and blame is meted out we can see that a strong sense of national unity was still lacking. The important point to be noticed is that the bond of unity to which Deborah could appeal was the name of Jehovah. It should be noted also that in the enumeration of the tribes, Judah, Simeon, and Levi are altogether omitted. In the case of so important a tribe as Judah this is significant, for it agrees with the fact that until the time of David this tribe does not come into prominence. It has been conjectured that Judah was only a small tribe, and may have invaded Canaan from the south, for it is difficult to conceive how it could have crossed the strong Canaanitish territory which separated it from the other tribes. At any rate, at this time it was not regarded as one of the tribes of Israel; it may have been that this tribe embraced a strong Canaanitish element (Gen. xxxviii.), and this fact may have contributed to the resentment which broke out among the other tribes when Judah assumed the hegemony in the time of David, and which led in the end to the disruption of the Kingdom.

In our sources the history of this period has attached to it a religious interpretation: apostasy, and disobedience to the commands of Jehovah were the causes of the people being sold into the power of their enemies; when they returned to the worship of Jehovah and penitently pleaded for His forgiveness then deliverers were raised up who vanquished their oppressors. This can be nothing but a late interpretation, for the religion of the Book of Judges is of quite a fixed order, and many of the stories recorded in it will not lend themselves to any such interpretation. The hand that supplied this reading of the history of this period has been identified with the author of Deuteronomy, or, as some would prefer to say, with the school of thought that produced that work. There is a religious lesson in this history, as in all history; but it is hardly to be found in a series of apostasies and returns. There are really four separate endeavours to account for the undoubted fact of the Canaanites being spared. (1) Israel was not able to drive them out (Judges i. 19, 27). (2) Israel was only commanded to drive them out by degrees, "lest the beasts of the field increase upon thee" (Deut. vii. 22). (3) It was a providential arrangement to keep the Israelites practised in war (Judges iii. 1, 2). (4) It was due to direct disobedience to the command of Jehovah (Judges ii. 20).

The history does not entitle us to assume that the judges were officials who exercised kingly rights over a united Israel. The word translated "Judge" more often means "Deliverer," and this is certainly the part that they play. Of some of the so-called minor judges we know nothing beyond their names, and there is evidence that they have simply been used to fill out a traditional period of 480 years (1 Kings vi. 1). Whenever the "Judges" assumed kingly or judicial functions trouble and rebellion always followed. The figure of Samson displays little fitness for ruling a nation or guiding it in religion, but the stones of his life are illuminating for the understanding of the morality and interests of that age.

With this revised conception of the history of the Conquest, and of the events which followed, we are in a better position to estimate the effect of the change from nomadic life to a settled existence, and to understand how critical for the future of the religion of Jehovah this change was.

We see tribes possessing little national unity, but bound together by a religion in which lay the germ of a mighty future, entering a land where the inhabitants had reached a higher stage of civilisation, and possessed a religion that drew its power from the fact that it was the worship of Baal, the possessor and owner of the land. In face of these conditions it was almost inevitable that many of the customs of the original inhabitants should be gradually adopted, and that the religion of Jehovah should borrow something from the religion indigenous to the land. This was certainly the result which followed. For a considerable period we find a religion prevalent among the common people, which is simply a conflation of the two religions. There were certain elements common to both, and certain advantages in the one, together with corresponding weaknesses in the other, that prepared the way for this syncretism.

We shall now turn to examine the religion of the Canaanites, which we shall find to partake largely of the common elements of Semitic religion. Their deities were personifications of natural forces, and among these there is no one which is supreme, and nothing that tends to Monotheism. The gods are friendly and destructive by turn, and of unreliable character. It is nothing more than an undeveloped Polytheism. The religion, as it is seen in the Old Testament, groups itself around three names: Baal, Ashtoreth (often written in plural form Ashtaroth), and Molech (otherwise written Moloch, Milcom, and known to the Phoenicians as Melkart).

The name of Baal has a hateful memory in the pages of the Old Testament as the Canaanitish deity to whom Israel constantly apostatised. The exact significance of Baal in the Canaanitish religion is a matter of dispute. He has been identified with the sun, and by the Greeks with Zeus; so that it has been inferred that Baal was the President of the Canaanitish Pantheon. This view is no longer generally accepted, for it certainly fails to fit in with the records of the cult preserved in the Old Testament. The word "Baal" is not a proper name, but signifies "the Possessor"; it is used in Semitic language for "husband," as the possessor of the wife, and is used as the name for deity, as the possessor of the land. Every land, and indeed every locality, will therefore have its own Baal; so that in the Old Testament we hear of the "Baalim" (the Hebrew plural), and these local Baalim are further distinguished by the addition of the name of their locality or of some event with which they were connected, as Baal-Peor, Baal-Berith, Baal-Zebul. The "Baal" is especially responsible for sending rain and sunshine, and for giving fruitful seasons. He is, therefore, the god of agriculture, and the great events of the agricultural year, such as harvest and vintage, are observed as his festivals. It is natural to find the uncertainty of the weather reflected in the character of the Baalim, with the result that we get a religion alternating between intoxicating joy and the deepest gloom. To appease the fickle god or to win his favour sacrifices, even of human lives, are presented, and if Baal continues unheeding, scenes of the most unrestrained fanaticism prevail. It is this gloomy religion which darkens the times of the later Kings of Judah.

The Canaanitish Baal should be distinguished from the Baal of Tyre (Melkart) whose worship was introduced by Ahab. Here the introduction of an alien Baal, with probably different rites and ceremonies, awoke the resentment of the prophetic party under the leadership of Elijah, but the worship of the Canaanite Baal was maintained for long unchecked.

Closely connected with the worship of the Baalim we find the worship of the Ashtaroth (Judges ii. 13). The pronunciation of this word is obscure; it was probably _Ashtart_, and the singular form, Ashtoreth (1 Kings xi. 5), has been formed by inserting the vowels of the word _bosheth_ (shame), a common device in the Old Testament for expressing contempt. Ashtart is the female counterpart of Baal, and is spoken of in the plural for a similar reason. Monuments of the worship of Ashtart are still to be found, and from these it is evident that we have here the worship of the goddess of sexual passion, as common in polytheistic systems, and best known in the Greek worship of Aphrodite. The whole conception of Ashtart can be traced to the famous goddess _Ishtar_ of Babylonian religion, and there is only too certain evidence that in Canaan as elsewhere the degrading rite of religious prostitution was used in this worship of female divinity (Hosea iv. 13). The identification of Ashtart with the "Queen of Heaven" (Jer. vii. 18; xliv. 15-25) is not so certain. As far as the worship of the latter is described to us, it looks like an importation of the Babylonian worship of Ishtar, who was identified with the planet Venus or sometimes with the moon. The "cakes to pourtray her" (Jer. xliv. 19) may have been crescent-shaped cakes.

Of a similar character was the worship that gathered around the name of Molech. We have here simply the word for king (_Milk_) with the vowels of _bosheth_. Of this name, Moloch, Milcom, and Melkart of Tyre are variations. Molech is not to be distinguished from Baal, as may be seen from Jer. xix. 5, where the practice of passing children through the fire, which was certainly connected with the worship of Molech, is a part of the worship of Baal. This burnt-sacrifice of children evidently belonged to the Canaanitish religion (2 Kings xvi. 3).

This then was the religion of the Canaanites: in times of prosperity and fruitful seasons, one of rejoicing and festivity; but in time of famine, drought or national danger, one of the most hopeless gloom and of the most fearful fanaticism. In conflict with this religion, the purer worship of Jehovah yet presented certain weaknesses; these are found chiefly in points of possible identification, which in the course of the history actually took place. This may be difficult for us to understand until we remember that Baal and Molech, to Semitic ears, simply meant "Lord" and "King"; and Jehovah was the "Lord" and "King" of Israel. If the character of Jehovah was not clearly apprehended as moral by the common people, we can see how easy it was for confusion to take place.

The great weakness of the religion of Jehovah was that He was not the God of Canaan. His home was in distant Sinai, and the only symbol of His presence was the ark, a symbol bound up with the idea of war. As the people settled down to a peaceful agricultural life, the need for Jehovah, the warrior God, would not be keenly felt. There was certainly a party from the very first who recognised the difference between Jehovah and Baal and fought against their identification, but so long as Baal was believed to be a real being the danger of his secret worship at least was never far away. Every land had its own god, and although the people knew that Jehovah was their God, yet they might think it necessary, and not inconsistent, to pay their respects to the local Baalim on whom they were dependent for the fruits of the earth (Hosea ii. 8). Nothing therefore but a national calamity could revive the old religion in face of the attractions of the new; if peace had been continuous it is hard to see how the religion founded by Moses could have persevered. Such dangerous peace the Children of Israel were not to enjoy. We soon hear the rousing call to the help of Jehovah in the Song of Deborah, and it was the threatened domination by the Philistines that called the monarchy into existence and revived the religion of Jehovah.

Meanwhile, however, a process of syncretism was gradually taking place, which it was to be the task of the Prophets to unravel; and how far it had gone may be seen from the difficulty they found in making the character of Jehovah and the moral demand made upon His worshippers clear to the people. "Jehovah," it must be remembered, was a name largely personal. Baal was a general name for deity, and could be applied to Jehovah quite truthfully. That this actually took place may be seen from a number of passages in the Old Testament. The most instructive instance is to be found in Hosea ii. 16; but the names given to places point in the same direction: David calls the spot where Jehovah broke his enemies, Baal-perazim; the same god is called indiscriminately, Baal-berith (Judges viii. 33; ix. 4) and El-berith (Judges ix. 46). This practice accounts for the names of Saul's son, Eshbaal, and of Jonathan's son, Meribbaal (1 Chron. viii. 33, 34), both of which have been altered in the Book of Samuel to "bosheth." (In obedience to the command of Exod. xxiii. 13, _Bosheth_ was substituted for _Baal_ in reading the Scriptures. The written text was altered in many places at a later period; the Chronicler must have found _Baal_ in his text of Samuel; that is about 200 B.C.) The names of Jehovah and Baal therefore came to have the same significance, and the distinction began to be missed; Jehovah was still the God of Israel, but the moral elements of His religion were gradually diluted with the naturalistic conceptions of the worship of Baal. Jehovah becomes the Baal of the land; that is, the relation between Him and Israel is conceived in a natural and even physical way. It is therefore no longer a covenant relation, which depends on the observance of moral obligations, but one of nature which cannot be broken by either party. Naturally the sanctuaries of the Canaanites are taken over by the Israelites, and Jehovah is worshipped in "the high places." All through the history worship at these local sanctuaries is condemned, but only from a later standpoint, for the earliest Book of Laws permitted an altar to be erected anywhere where Jehovah had manifested Himself (Exod. xx. 24). Around some of these undoubtedly Canaanitish sanctuaries the stories of the Patriarchs gathered, but from the practices which prevailed at such places as Bethel we can see that heathen rites were used, for here Jeroboam set up the golden calves, which seem to have been used in the worship of Jehovah, for neither Elijah nor Amos condemns them. Jehovah is now worshipped all over the land, but there is the same tendency to regard each separate place as having its local deity, and so Jehovah is multiplied (perhaps, Jer. xi. 13) and needs to be further identified by the addition of place names, as in the strange name El-bethel (Gen. xxxv. 7), El-elohe-Israel (Gen. xxxiii. 20), in a way that is very like the multiplication of the Baalim. So deeply was the worship of Jehovah mixed up with Canaanitish ideas that in the reign of Josiah the only possibility of reform lay in forbidding the worship at the local sanctuaries altogether and concentrating all worship at the central sanctuary of Jerusalem.

Nothing but this process of syncretism can explain the condition of religion in the subsequent history, and it is needed to enable us to understand both the difficulty of the work of the Prophets and the form their message takes.

Nevertheless, there must have been from the earliest times elements that made for a purer faith, and that never acquiesced in this confusion between Jehovah and Baal, which certainly prevailed in the popular mind; otherwise the Reformation of the Eighth Century would be an isolated and inexplicable movement, and without that historical support the Prophets claimed. There was a party against Baal altogether, although they do not emerge until the monarchy. This party may have consisted of the "priests" of Jehovah. At mention of these we must not think of the sacrificing priests described in the Book of Leviticus. No such persons are known until after the exile; during this period anyone could sacrifice. The story of the priest in Judges xvii. gives a good idea of this class; his chief duties seem to have consisted in keeping the oracle and obtaining decisions by the lot. These decisions became the basis on which there was gradually built up the _Torah_ (the Law), which, as the word implies, was a collection of decisions obtained by casting lots. For the purpose of obtaining these decisions the priests seem to have used an idol of some kind; for this is the most natural explanation of the Ephod and its use in the early history. There would be different degrees of intellectual and moral capacity found in the ranks of the priests, and many of them may have had higher ideals of their duties than the one mentioned in Judges. It would be likely that those who were in charge of the Sacred Ark possessed a superior dignity and maintained a purer tradition. Gradually the magical accompaniments to their oracular decisions may have given way to more judicial deliverances, although in the time of David and Abiathar they were apparently still used (1 Sam. xxx. 7). At any rate the priests kept alive the idea of Jehovah as the dispenser of justice, and helped to build up that system of laws for which Israel is so justly famous.

This "higher critical" view of the history is simply one to which we are driven by the records that stand nearest to the times they describe. It certainly alters considerably the ordinary conceptions of the type of religion that prevailed in those early days, before the coming of the Prophets; but that such was the type is only too clearly shown by the writings of the Prophets themselves. Nevertheless this view of the period, while it shuts out a somewhat stiff and mechanical religious interpretation of the history which has been forced upon it by a later age, is still not without a valuable lesson, which is perhaps not taught elsewhere in the Bible, and yet is one that we need to have always before us. It is one, the possibility of which always exists and often threatens a spiritual religion: the danger of a gradual encroachment and assimilation of pagan ideas until the original purity is lost almost beyond recovery. If this has happened anywhere it has happened in Christianity. It was the awakening to this paganisation of Christianity that provoked the struggle of the Reformation, not yet decided. Many of the conceptions that are still popularly identified with Christianity are the remnants of paganism. It is not necessary to enumerate the common customs which wear only a thin veneer of Christianity; but many of the ideas in connection with Christian Doctrine certainly owe more to pagan philosophy than they do to the New Testament. The syncretism between Paganism and Christianity has not been destroyed by the Reformation. Many of the popular ideas of the Atonement, for instance, rest on a pagan conception of God and a materialistic idea of Christ's work which are so deeply involved in the common presentation of Christianity that to present the actual New Testament teaching would seem to many like a denial of the foundation truths of the Gospel. Still more dangerous is the localisation of the god as the peculiar patron of the land, which justifies many unholy wars and makes such a thing as a national repentance almost impossible. There is a god of the British Empire who is remarkably like the Jehovah-Baal of the old syncretised religion that ruled in the period which we have been studying, and whose worship begets equal indifference to the claims of true religion, and equally cruel treatment for the prophet who strives to call men to a purer faith.

It is a relief to turn to a more comforting lesson. It is that which assures us that man's thought of God is not entirely his own, that it cannot be destroyed and is never wholly forgotten, but ever makes its way to higher truth and greater power. The way in which the higher religion comes is through the pure minds of those who wish only to live up to the fulness of the truth, and however mistaken they be, wish only to know and to do the will of God. A similar task lies equally before every honest man and every true Christian. The lesson is plain: beware of a stagnant religion that dreads progress, and keep the mind open as a child's to God's further revelation of Himself, which has yet many things to tell us.

PROPHETISM--EARLY STAGES

The reader is recommended to investigate for himself the origins of Prophetism by a careful examination of the following passages:--

I. There were originally Guilds or Schools of Prophets; from which it would appear that Prophetism was a kind of profession (1 Sam. x. 5; xix. 20; 2 Kings ii. 3, 5). There is nothing in the records that we possess that marks these bands of prophets as possessed of great spiritual power; they were devoted to the cause of Israel and Jehovah, and the way in which this was manifested was taken to imply that they were filled with the spirit of Jehovah; it inclines somewhat to the Dervish order of enthusiastic devotion (1 Sam. x. 5; xix. 20-24). It is significant that wherever these schools are found there is known to have existed a "high place," _i.e._, an old Canaanitish sanctuary, now used for the worship of Jehovah-Baal. A similar order of prophets was connected with the worship of the Tyrian Baal (1 Kings xviii.).

II. Samuel (1 Sam. xix. 20) Elisha (2 Kings ii. 15; iv. 38; vi. 1-7) and in much less degree, Elijah (1 Kings xviii. 4; xix. 10) had some connection with these schools.

III. The later Prophets did not claim descent from these guilds of "prophecy," and even repudiated any connection with them (Amos vii. 14). This conflict between the "called" prophet and the professionals is revealed in the fierce denunciations of Isaiah (xxix. 10) and Jeremiah (v. 31; xiv. 13, 14; xxvi. 7, 8).

IV. The identification of these prophets with priests and seers probably gives a clue to their origin (1 Sam. ix. 9; Isa. xxix. 10; Jer. xxvi. 7, 8; Amos vii. 12).

V. Certain individuals who are called prophets or seers had official court connection (2 Sam. xxiv. 11; 1 Chron. xxv. 5; Amos vii. 10).

Between these "prophets" and the great writers who bear the same designation, we cannot fail to recognise an immense difference; Samuel and Elijah are connecting links between the two classes. Elijah is rather a hero than a prophet in the later sense, for he gives us no new doctrine, and Samuel is a seer who has risen to political power, rather than a religious ruler. Critics have discovered evidence of a double narrative in our documents.

(Earlier) 1 Sam. ix. 1-x. 16; xi. xiii. 2-xiv. 52.

(Later) 1 Sam. i. ii. iii. iv. vii. 3-17; viii. x. 17-25; xii. xv.

If these be examined and contrasted, it will be found that Samuel is more allied in the earlier narratives with the "priest-seer" than with the Prophet of the type of Amos. A confirmation of this double narrative is found in the different accounts of the origin of the monarchy which they give. Samuel, according to the earlier sources, is just the type we need for the intermediate stage in the development of the Prophet.

For the different historical conceptions of the work and character of David the narratives in Samuel should be compared with the representation given in Chronicles, and with that inferred by the ascription of various Psalms to his authorship.

Lecture V

PROPHETISM--EARLY STAGES

We have seen that in the time of the Judges the religion of Jehovah became so mixed with elements taken over from the Canaanites that the original revelation gained through Moses was in danger of being lost. We have now to trace the steps by which this syncretism was broken up, and the advance made to the purely monotheistic conception and the lofty morality of the great literary Prophets. However this came about it is certain that it was not due to any gradual movement among the mass of the people, for the type of religion which we have been considering remains largely unaltered in its hold upon the popular mind. Through the teaching of the earlier prophets certain reforms were attempted, but none of them seem to have touched the heart of the nation. Hezekiah and Josiah attempted to reform religion by centralising the national worship, but, from whatever cause, it left the people still in opposition to the prophetic type of religion, a conflict that was only ended by the calamity of the exile. It is, therefore, to the prophetic band themselves that we must turn. Can we trace within this more limited circle a movement that shall in any way prepare us for the appearance of men of the type of Amos?

To answer this question we must turn to the Books of Samuel and Kings. These present us with a history of the period which, like most history, has been written, or over-written, from a later standpoint and made to conform with later ideals. On the whole, however, and by contrasting it with the still later conceptions of the Books of Chronicles, we can form an accurate impression of the state of religion at this time; and incidentally we have a valuable account of a movement that evidently gave birth to those great conceptions of religion which were to be voiced with such power and force by the great Prophets. The writers who, apart from the value of their religious teaching, have by their distinctive style made the Old Testament a contribution to the literature of the world, are known to us as "Prophets." This name they share, however, with others who have left us no first-hand record of their religious opinions, and who, as described to us in the early sources, bear only the slightest resemblance to Prophets as we conceive them. Our task will be, therefore, to investigate the origins of this movement which embraces such diverse elements, and this we may commence by examining the meaning of the word "Prophet" (_Nabi_).

Like many other words in the Old Testament that lock up important secrets, the origin of the word Prophet is obscure and its meaning disputed. The conception which is most natural to our word "Prophet" is of one who sees into the future; this is not even the main characteristic of the writing Prophets, nor does it embrace all the phenomena connected with the movement, especially in its early stages. All that can be said of the word from an etymological standpoint is that it has no origin which can be traced in historical Hebrew, and the inference is that it is either a very ancient word, or one borrowed from some other language. The word can, however, hardly be ancient, for it is not common to Semitic tongues, as is the word "priest," for instance, while we have a definite statement that within historic times it superseded the older word "seer" (1 Sam. ix. 9). The name was also used for certain devotees of the Tyrian Baal, whose worship was imported by Ahab; but it can hardly be that the name would be adopted directly from a phenomenon that was so repugnant to the Israelites, although the common name hints that there was a common ancestry somewhere. It seems fair to assume from the facts mentioned that the word is, at least, not older than the entry into Canaan, and while it cannot be definitely proved that it was borrowed from the Canaanites, there is some confirmation of this in the fact that the earliest occurrence of the name is in connection with the "sons of the prophets," who are always found in places where it is known that there were Canaanitish sanctuaries.

The word _Nabi_ has been variously connected with the root, _nab'a_, "to bubble," and so one inspired; with the Arabic word, "to speak," and so a speaker or herald. The word seems to exist in Assyrian in the form _nabu_, "to announce," but this is probably from the name of the Babylonian deity, Nebo, the God of Eloquence, so that the word might mean one possessed by Nebo. Some have even looked to this as the ultimate derivation of the word. The investigation of the word really gives nothing satisfactory, and we must therefore turn to examine the character of the persons to whom it was applied.

In various passages in the Old Testament, Seer and Prophet are so used as to lead us to infer that they embraced identical ideas (Isa. xxix. 10; Amos vii. 12), and in one passage, which has only the authority of a late annotation of the text, we learn that they were identical in their application (1 Sam. ix. 9). The other name with which Prophet is frequently bracketed is that of Priest; they are placed together in the denunciations of Jeremiah (ii. 8; v. 31). Our previous studies showed us that these classes were all somewhat akin in their origins; the duties of the priest were discharged in keeping the oracles, while the Seer is evidently akin to the Soothsayer, a type that has appeared in all religions. We have a concrete example of these classes being combined in Samuel. In the early story of Samuel's first meeting with Saul, we find Saul turning to consult the famous Seer in order to discover where his father's lost asses are to be found; and even the question of the Seer's usual fee is mentioned (1 Sam. ix. 8). This picture, which makes Samuel a notable Seer, is earlier and more authentic than that which makes him nearly a ruler over Israel. Although he is nowhere called a priest, yet he himself sacrifices, and his presence at a sacrifice is reckoned an advantage (1 Sam. xiii. 8-13); while we have the story of his sleeping by the ark in his youth. The Seer is, therefore, an exalted type of priest who has obtained renown by the success of his prognostications, and so we read of Seers attached to the courts of the Kings (2 Sam. xxiv. 11; 1 Chron. xxv. 5); but the later sources have recognised that there is something heathenish about the word, and have covered it up with the name Prophet. From the early descriptions of the bands of prophets in the books of Samuel, it would seem that they are more allied to the priestly order than to the Seers, for it is certain that down to the middle of the Ninth Century the name Prophet stands for something different from its use as applied to Moses and the literary Prophets. The name is applied to bands of men who "prophesy," but this prophesying is entirely unlike the methods associated by us with the prophetic spirit. It is evidently something which is done, not individually, but in companies, and apparently in solemn procession to the accompaniment of noisy music. It must have been a species of violent incantation, leading to acts of fierce fanaticism, in which the clothing might be stripped off, and often ending in complete mental prostration (1 Sam. x. 5, 6; xix. 23, 24). The connection of music with religious exercises is almost universal, and it always had a conspicuous place in the worship of Jehovah (2 Sam. vi. 5; Isa. xxx. 29), while music has often been used to induce the prophetic vision (2 Kings iii. 15). These prophets seem to have lived together in schools, semi-monastic orders, or guilds, and to have been found where there were high places, or Canaanitish sanctuaries; and from their behaviour we are forced to admit that we have here a common manifestation in the history of religion, where companies of men devote themselves to fanatical outbursts that are taken to indicate possession by the Spirit of God. To the accompaniment of music and frenzied dancing they work themselves into a state that approaches madness--always among uncivilised peoples taken to be a sign of the hand of God (Hosea ix. 7). We cannot fail to be reminded of the greater excesses of the prophets of Baal, the extraordinary performances of the dervish bands, and the fanatical excesses that have always disfigured monastic institutions.

It cannot be dismissed, therefore, as incredible that this phenomenon was derived from the Canaanites, and developed a zeal for Jehovah that was manifested after a fashion common to the devotees of other religions.

Down to a very late date in the history of the Kingdom, the literary Prophets found themselves in conflict with bands of prophets, who to their judgment prophesied falsely; and from the way in which these are often associated with the priests, it seems probable that they represent the deteriorated--or perhaps simply the stagnant--remnant of this earlier movement. It is, however, necessary to assume that even in the earlier movement there were purer elements than those which we have noticed, and that it embraced individuals who were led into a real fellowship with the mind of God, of which Samuel and Elisha are conspicuous examples. Religious movements of the "revival" type, which have undoubtedly inspired and produced great ethical changes and resulted finally in sane religion, have often been accompanied in their earlier stages by these frenzied outbreaks. It would be in response to some of those strange mental movements which modern psychology is endeavouring to understand, but also whenever danger threatened the nation or the national religion, that these enthusiasts would take the field. As the movement shed its purely hysterical elements, it may have been occupied in the compilation of the records of Israel's history, for many of these hardly reflect the higher prophetic standpoint, or in writing down such stories of their great heroes as we find connected with Elijah and Elisha. A connection with the literary productions of the great Prophets may be thus indirectly traced, as it also most certainly can in the prophetic _style_, which in its fierce rhythm of denunciation or its sobbing sweeps of passionate appeal recalls something of the incantation of the prophetic bands. Samuel, Elijah and Elisha, by their connection with this early phenomenon of prophetism and by the approximation of their work to the ideals of the later Prophets, are the true links between the earlier and later stages of the prophetic movement. It is both credible and natural that, when the movement had spent itself in some wonderful advance into ethical power and religious insight, the less noble elements should have still remained and continued to claim divine inspiration, and yet have been found in open conflict with its own nobler productions.

It would seem that the obscure sect known as Nazarites were connected in some way with the early prophetic movement, for they are mentioned side by side with the prophets (Amos ii. 11, 12); and it is probable that Samuel was both a Nazarite and a prophet (1 Sam. i. 11), while Samson, in whom the Spirit of Jehovah seemed to produce these strange outbursts of savage frenzy, was certainly a Nazarite (Judges xiii. 4, 5, 7, 14). It would appear that the Nazarites were men who devoted themselves to the service of Jehovah under certain vows of abstinence from wine and ceremonial defilement. The vows might be taken for life or for a limited period, but while under the vow the hair was left unshorn. There is evidence that this is an old Semitic custom, and that when the vow was accomplished the hair was made an offering to the god (Num. vi. 18); to this day the pilgrims to Mecca are forbidden to cut their hair until the journey is completed. The law of the Nazarites (Num. vi.) is only a late attempt to legislate for a custom that had existed independently of the institutions of the religion of Jehovah, and so to secure a place within the official religion for a custom that would have been difficult to suppress by prohibition. Similar in many respects to the Nazarites, but even more obscure, were the Rechabites, who abstained from wine (Jer. xxxv. 2-10), but who seem also to have protested against the adoption of any of the arts and customs of settled life, especially as these customs were typified in the cultivation of the vine. They chose these methods in order to resist the influence of Canaan, which was threatening so dangerously the integrity of the nation and the national religion. They probably hoped by these conservative manners to destroy the syncretism between Baal and Jehovah; for the only other mention of the sect in the Old Testament is in connection with the extirpation of the house of Ahab (2 Kings x. 15-17).

It may appear repulsive to those who have made up their minds as to the methods by which the Spirit of God can work to trace back the supreme genius, the impassioned ethical ideals, and the practical statesmanship of the great Prophets of Israel to movements bordering on insanity; yet it is from enthusiasm that most of the great saving movements of the world have come. Certainly the great religious revival which was soon to come in Israel owed almost as much of its success to these bands of enthusiasts as to the personality of Elijah.

It falls now to our task to trace the movement from bands to individuals, from Prophetism to Prophecy, from a phenomenon to a teaching. We have records of men who seem to have moved beyond the mantic stage and who prepare the way for the great Prophets. We can conveniently call these "transition prophets." We shall find that they bear some resemblance to the old style of Seer, or to the guild prophets, or to both. Of some of these we have only the merest mention, so that they may be called the _minor_ transition prophets.

Two stand together by their connection with David and from the fact that they both seem to have been Court officials (2 Sam. vii. 2; xxiv. 11; 1 Kings i. 10). There is no word here of the mantic fury of the early prophets; although in Gad, who makes known the best way to escape the anger of an offended Deity, we have a survival of the ancient seer; but in Nathan we have a truly noble example of one who, although he may have been dependent on David for his daily bread, yet faced him with the unsparing denunciation of his sin. Here is a man who regards right in Israel more than the smile of princes, and who has a higher conception of his office than that of a convenient manipulator of oracles for the flattering of a King. Nathan is a true ancestor of Amos and Jeremiah.

Ahijah the Shilonite is famous because he foretold the disruption of the Kingdom (1 Kings xi. 29-31), and we may see in this the beginnings of that political judgment which was to become notable in the later Prophets; although a partisan motive might be suspected in this particular case, when Jeroboam, in later years, sent his wife to consult Ahijah, accompanied with the usual fee (1 Kings xiv. 2), the message he received shows that in Ahijah we have no party politician, but the impartial judgment of the later Prophets.

There is a pathetic and somewhat mysterious story of an unnamed man of God who delivered the word of Jehovah to Jeroboam at the altar at Bethel, and who, refusing the accustomed hospitality due to a prophet, afterwards accepted the invitation of the old prophet of Bethel, and paid the penalty with his death. We have here a story, the moral of which may be obscure enough, but which certainly illustrates the growing conflict between the two prophetic ideals. Here is a prophet who travels from his own land to rebuke the sin of a King to his face, afterwards yielding to the blandishments of one of the official prophets. The new Prophetism, tempted from its superior position by the old, fell; yet not many years were to elapse before these two orders, in the persons of Amos and Amaziah, were again to face one another at this same spot, and this time the new Prophetism was to maintain its integrity (1 Kings viii.; Amos vii. 10-17).

Before we pass on to the _major_ transition prophets, it will be well to consider here the effect which the foundation of the Monarchy had on the development of the religion of Israel.

Of the inauguration of the Monarchy we possess two accounts; one extremely unfavourable, written doubtless after Judah's experience of some of her notorious Kings, and in the light of a somewhat ideal conception of the Theocratic government that was supposed to have flourished before the time of Saul (1 Sam. x. 17-24); the other account, in which Samuel himself at the revelation of Jehovah initiates the movement towards the Monarchy (1 Sam. ix. 15-x. 1) by anointing Saul, is the one that is placed earlier by the critics. The Monarchy was an inevitable stage in the social development of a settled people, and it was the policy of Samuel to make the Monarchy the organ of the Theocracy. For all this Saul does not seem to have had any influence on religion, or to have ever realised the needs of his times, and under the sense of failure he became a prey to fear and depressing influences which eventually wrecked his reason.

Round the name of David have gathered the national ideals of heroism and sainthood so often found in combination in early story. They had a true origin in David, if we judge from the standards of piety and rulership that were natural to his age. Outlaw, hero, poet, saint--David is the darling of Israel's history. It would be unfair to David to picture him as the saintly author of some of the tender Psalms that bear his name, although others of a more robust character might well be from his hand. That David was a poet seems to be certain, and the songs of lament over Saul and Abner, which have strong claims to be genuine, bear witness to his true poetic gift; but they are deficient in any display of deep religious feeling. We may have also to reduce somewhat the conception of the extent or the absoluteness of his kingly rule. He was rather one of those freebooters who by their heroism and rough manly courage are able to gather round them men of their own nature and to inspire in their followers a loyal devotion. To this pleasant adventurer the early Kingdom fell, but for long it was only a kingdom of personal followers; nor does he ever seem to have been enthusiastically acknowledged by the whole nation, or to have established his claims absolutely beyond dispute. His heroic defence against the Philistine invasion was sufficient to give him a great place in the affection of the people, yet he never assumed the imperial rule in the manner of his successor Solomon. With all this necessary allowance for the idealising process of a later age, David was the indispensable centre round which the early ideals and legends of the Monarchy could collect. His work was of immense importance for the future; especially his conquest of Jerusalem, now for the first time wrested from the Canaanites and destined to become in the future the centre of the national life, to be bound up with his name, and above all to be the peculiar dwelling-place of Jehovah. To make Jerusalem his capital was a very diplomatic stroke, for it was neutral territory to both Ephraim and Judah, and this fact quietened the mutual jealousy of these tribes. It was also a great work of David that by his rough piety he definitely connected the Kingship with devotion to the cause of Jehovah. This devotion found expression in his care for the sacred palladium of the Tribes, although it was policy as well as piety that brought the Ark to Jerusalem; for we are forced to admit that in matters of religion David was not greatly in advance of his times. He regarded the jurisdiction of Jehovah as not extending beyond Palestine (1 Sam. xxvi. 19), and although he himself may have abandoned idols, yet he allowed them in his house (1 Sam. xix. 13), while he retained the old custom of consulting the will of Jehovah by the Ephod (1 Sam. xxx. 7) or by the movements of trees (2 Sam. v. 23-25). His conception of Jehovah was that of a Being of uncertain temper, who would take vengeance for any acts of ceremonial violation (2 Sam. vi. 9) or whose anger might be aroused for reasons beyond human discovery (2 Sam. xxiv. 10-17).

But it would be equally wrong to blame David because he does not come up to the ideals of a later age. So far as it went, we may believe that his piety was real; he was a man after Jehovah's own heart, _for those times_. He certainly did his best to found a Kingdom on personal affection and to establish some kind of impartial justice. In the matter of Bathsheba and Uriah David has been judged by impossible standards, and especially by the religious ideas of the 51st Psalm, which bears in its every line evidence of a morality far too deep for the age of David, and which is quite unsuitable for a confession of murder and adultery. It was no crime in the eyes of an oriental monarch to take his neighbour's wife, and it was novel doctrine that David heard from the lips of Nathan; it is to be laid to his everlasting credit that he listened to this prophetic judgment, was convicted of the sinfulness of his act, and repented very profoundly.

When we pass to Solomon we come to a character altogether different, but one that is very difficult to estimate from the portrait presented to us in the Old Testament. The writers allow themselves to be carried away by the tradition of his magnificence, and by the external evidence of his piety preserved in the splendid Temple which he reared to the glory of Jehovah; but they cannot produce much evidence for the depth of his personal religion. He attempted to build an empire on the lines of the barbaric and superficial glories of his greatest neighbours; but its splendour and certainly its significance have been rather overdrawn by the later historians. It was a reign of splendour, but for the religion of Israel it was unimportant, for it was in the main irreligious. Save for the presence of Nathan at his coronation, the prophetic ministry almost disappears in this reign; what prophets remain are opposed to his policy. Solomon was little more than a worldly cosmopolitan; his empire was magnificent in comparison with the achievements of his predecessors, but it rested not as David's on the devotion of the people to a popular hero, but depended for its strength on a system of taxation and a false imperialism: forced labour was employed and the loyalty of the tribes was strained. It was an endeavour to change the government from a natural and tribal system to that of an Eastern despotism; and it ended in failure. The building of the Temple was only a part of this policy, and it was a policy resented by the prophetic party, who were all for simplicity in matters of worship (2 Sam. vii.; omit verse 13). The Temple did not occupy too outstanding a place in the block of royal buildings, and there is no evidence that in this age it was anything more than Solomon's private chapel built with the desire to rival the splendid royal shrines of other countries. It was evidently designed largely on heathen models, and contained heathen symbols which the later religion absorbed with difficulty. The adoption of the Temple as the supreme centre of Israel's worship was not the work of Solomon, but the effect of the teaching of Isaiah of Jerusalem and the consequence of the reforms of Hezekiah and Josiah. The harem and the strange worship were similarly parts of an international policy. Solomon was certainly the first to give to the worship of Jehovah an imposing splendour and regularity, but it was not a splendour that appealed to the Prophets. The beautiful prayer of the dedication can hardly be the composition of Solomon, but is more likely to have been the production of a later age which endeavoured to give to this display a piety which the original did not possess. In time the Temple was to become of enormous importance, but in this period it remained only a magnificent shrine for the Ark. The fact that two of the prophets sided with Jeroboam may point to a revolt against this religious splendour. The bulls of Jeroboam were a counterblast to the Temple, and although his name is ever afterwards connected with the introduction of this idolatrous worship, and the succeeding Kings of Israel condemned for their participation, it is evident that these strictures are somewhat intensified by the conception that in the quarrel between Israel and Judah, Judah was in the right, and by the refusal to allow for the fact that this method of worship had not been condemned by any contemporary. The calves were most likely ancient symbols of Semitic divinity, and were certainly intended as symbols of Jehovah. Nevertheless, the future lay with the Temple and the South, for the revolution was based on a merely conservative impulse and contained no ideal. In the South, Jehovah was never worshipped with such an excess of heathen symbolism, and thither the voice of Prophecy soon transferred itself to find in Judah its greatest sphere.

We are brought now to one of the most pregnant movements of this time, known as the northern prophetic revolt, and to the work and personalty of the major transition prophets, Elijah and Elisha. The introduction of the worship of the Tyrian Baal by Ahab was the signal for revolt. Here was a violation of the commonest conceptions of religion: the transplantation of the worship of another god, Melkart, the Baal of Tyre, into the territory of Jehovah, who was regarded as the Baal of Canaan. It opened the eyes of the schools of the Prophets to the danger of the use of the name of Baal, and was the cause of its complete disuse as a name for Jehovah (Hosea ii. 16, 17). In the revolt against the worship of this heathen Baal there stands out as its chief inspiration and leader the magnificent figure of the prophet Elijah. It is evident that in the story of his life we have much that is legendary and probably some confusion with the work of Elisha, but the religious significance is sufficiently clear. We have noticed that Elijah is remotely connected with the prophetic schools, and they share with him the persecution organised by the devotees of Baal; the old mantic accompaniments of prophecy are still found in Elijah; he seems to charm the rain (1 Kings xviii. 42), and he certainly hears it coming. With all his courage and insight he does not fully comprehend the true methods by which the religion of Jehovah is to win its way; conviction is to be brought by thunder and fire; if these fail there remains the sword. It may be difficult to decide whether Elijah actually conceived the wonderful revelation at Mount Horeb, but it is more than likely that to this man there came in the hour of failure the discovery that there were other ways more to the mind of Jehovah whereby men should realise His presence; a discovery which has been dramatised in the theophany on Horeb. Revelation by the still small voice of inner conviction certainly gained greater recognition after the ministry of Elijah.

If we seek to understand the meaning of Elijah's stand for Jehovah, we shall see that it was first of all a protest against the syncretism of the Baal and Jehovah religions. This protest may have been founded initially on conceptions not too exalted, namely, that Jehovah and Melkart could not be worshipped in the same land, but there are evidences that Elijah had advanced further than that. His daring taunts to Baal amount to complete scepticism as to his existence, or at least of his power to injure the true follower of Jehovah. If that is so, then we have in Elijah the first monotheist. He clearly perceived that in character Baal and Jehovah were utterly different. The cruelty connected with the religion of Jehovah still persists under Elijah, but the incompatibility between the true religion and heathenism is recognised and affirmed. We may sum up Elijah's religion in his own phrase: "I have been very jealous for Jehovah."

There is another aspect of Elijah's work which certainly forms a true transition to the teaching of the later Prophets; he denounces the murder of Naboth almost as much as the worship of Baal. We trace here the rise of the ethical conception of the service of Jehovah and the protest against social wrongs which was to become so great a part of the burden of such men as Amos and Micah.

With Elijah we can see forming, however dimly, the thought of a Kingdom of God, and the peculiar patriotism of the Prophets: he desires an Israel independent of all heathen alliances; it is a conception of a Kingdom which shall be great in intension rather than wide in extension. It was this conflict of the prophetic and the so-called patriotic ideals that was to contribute largely to the final overthrow of the State. It may have been that the Prophets could never have built up a strong State on the lines they indicated, and their very protest may have weakened the arm of statesmen and contributed to the destruction of the Kingdom founded by David and Solomon. We can only feel that we side with the Prophets. If the prophetic voice had been silenced we might have had Israel with a kingdom as mighty as Assyria, although that is highly doubtful; but it would have been a kingdom as useless for its contribution to religion as that proud, vain, and cruel empire.

The theophany at Horeb, therefore, whatever its embellishment and however symbolical its dress, is the true history of this period. In the development of the prophetic religion, magic and mystery are failing, display and external glory are passing away, and there enters from this time the conception of the religion of the inward voice on which the work of the later Prophets is built. Elisha is but a pale reflection of his master, and makes little contribution to religion; but we soon hear of Micaiah (1 Kings xxii. 8), whose message reveals the still widening gap between the professional prophet and the new order of men who hear with greater clearness the true voice of Jehovah. But sixty years have to pass, and Northern Palestine awakens to the echoes of a new voice, and listens to the new message of the first of that prophetic band who have enriched literature while they have exalted religion--Amos the herdman of Tekoa.

Where elsewhere in history has there been a religion that, starting in comparative heathenism, almost lost in conflict with a fully-developed paganism, has yet moved steadily upward, breaking away from its origins, shedding the false charms of magic and sorcery, and rising by gradual ascent into fellowship with the Will of God? It is this _movement_ that constitutes the inspiration of the Old Testament and that makes it still a Word of God to us.

Many of these conclusions, which have been put forward and established by critical methods, especially in reference to the religious feeling of those times, and in the different conception of the piety of men like David and Solomon, may strike the reader as startling and disturbing. That may well be, but that is no excuse for our reading into Bible story more than can be legitimately found there, while it will be sure to obscure some of its highest teaching, which is to be found not in isolated "texts," but in great movements. It is the facts that we have to face, and the facts are obscured not so much by the corrections of the history by the later historians, as by our forcing into them the still later conceptions of our own times. We have not given detailed proof of many of the positions here taken up; they may be sought in detail by the reader in the works of Biblical scholarship. Our object is to discover whether these things being so, we can still find a true revelation in the history of this people, and hear in it the Voice of God. Do we not get from this corrected view of the history, a sense of the splendid onward movement of this religion, which in itself is so much more inspiring than the monotonous conception, which is only the product of later Judaism, that the history of Israel's religion is nothing but a series of apostasies from a pure and perfect faith? That late conception is not borne out by a careful and critical study of the sources, and it rather owes its strength to-day to a certain dogmatic conception of human nature that is needlessly pessimistic, and to an idea of the weakness of the Spirit of God in His dealings with man that nearly approaches atheism.

One or two lessons of the period stand out in strong relief. One is that better things come of enthusiasm, even when it is mistaken, than from indifference. The reference of all the institutions of Israel to the definitely revealed Will of Jehovah may seem to some, after these investigations, a mistake. This can only arise from too narrow a conception of the working of God and the means through which His Spirit reaches man, for it is this very reference to the Will of God that is responsible for the advance in Israel's faith. To believe in the Will of God, and to refer all to it, does gradually increase the knowledge of that Will, and so leads to a true revelation.

Another lesson is, not to despise the accompaniments of the first movements of the Spirit of God in man. It is not within the scope of this work to enquire why it is that when a man is moved by the Spirit of God such strange phenomena as we have been studying in the prophetic bands, which still accompany many revivals, should be the immediate results. There must be patience with these things as beginnings; but equally must there be impatience with them when they elevate themselves into a permanent claim to recognition as the only signs of a true religious life, and when they refuse to recognise as higher the sane and ethical movement to which they themselves have given birth. One of the chief difficulties in things religious is to recognise the offspring of a great movement, to discover the time when the child must be allowed its new-found freedom, to know when symbols may be dropped and the reality brought in. Protestantism has given birth to wider thoughts about God and deeper appreciations of the extent of His working, which are the logical outcome of Protestantism, and yet which are often repudiated by those whose Protestantism is of the aggressive type. A progressive movement of any kind always has these strifes. They are as constant in Science as in Religion, only in Science they are more easily overcome by the greater readiness to accept new revelation. Christianity is a religion that moves, and, as Christ Himself foretold, it causes the son to rise up against his father, the new generation to come into conflict with the old. Ours it is never to forget that the Kingdom of God is on the side of the child; except ye receive the Kingdom of God as a child, in the spirit of enquiry and growth, except ye never grow old, ye cannot enter therein.

THE RELIGION OF THE LITERARY PROPHETS

THE CHRONOLOGY OF THE PROPHETS

_Assyrian Period._

B.C. Amos 760-750 B.C. Hosea 750-737 Accession of Tiglath Pileser III 745 Isaiah 740-700 Invasion of Sennacherib 701 Micah 724- Fall of Samaria 722 Zephaniah _circa_ 627 Western Palestine invaded by Scythians Nahum 610-608? Fall of Nineveh 607

_Chaldæan Period._

Jeremiah 626-586 Deuteronomy discovered 621 Habakkuk 605-600? First Great Exile 597 Ezekiel 593-573 Second Great Exile 586

_Persian Period._

Isa. xiii.-xiv.; xxi. 1-10; xxxiv., (Date uncertain, but xxxv. definitely after the Exile.) Isa. xl.-lv. (The "Second" Isaiah) _c_540. Cyrus takes Babylon 538 Isa. lvi.-lxvi. (Various prophecies, to be dated after the return.) Return of the Exiles 537 Haggai _c_520 Zech. i.-viii. _c_520 Mal. 460-450 Promulgation of the Law 444 Zech. ix.-xiv. 322

There is nothing to enable us to decide the dates of Jonah, Joel, and Obadiah with greater definiteness than to say that they were written after the Restoration.

Diagram representing the religious significance of the Prophets:--

FINAL EMBODIMENT GOLDEN AGE OF PROPHECY SILVER AGE OF PROPHETIC TEACHING _Exile_ + +--------+ PSALMS | | | | | | | + | +--------------+ 2 ISAIAH | | | | | | | +---+ JEREMIAH | | | | | | | | + | | +--+ HOSEA | | | | | | | | AMOS +-------+ MICAH--NAH.--HAB. +--+--------------+ WISDOM LITERATURE | | | | | | +-----------+ ISAIAH DEUT. | | + | | | | | | | | +-------------+ EZEKIEL -----+ THE LAW

Judging from the standard of New Testament religion and their contribution to it, the Prophets may be roughly classified in the above order. The higher tendency seems to vanish from the historical works which were composed after the Exile, save in many of the Psalms, where religion reaches its highest expression outside the New Testament. The tendency represented by the middle and horizontal line ends in the somewhat superficial ethics of such works as the Book of Proverbs. The lower tendency _is only to be judged so from comparison_; it served its purpose, and it was an honest endeavour to reduce the Prophetic ideals to a definite system. It is in line with the spirit of many of the Psalms that the religion of the revelation of Christ takes its rise, and we may see in the Sadducees and the Pharisees the degenerate effect of the other lines of development.

Lecture VI

THE RELIGION OF THE LITERARY PROPHETS

Among the writings of the Old Testament, the Prophetical Books, whether considered as literature or religion, are acknowledged to stand out as unsurpassed. If the Psalms claim to rival them it is to be remembered that the Psalms are probably to be traced to the Prophetic teaching. The Prophets themselves begin a new era; they are creative and owe but little to their past. That for so long a period, in unbroken continuity, there should emerge from a tiny nation a succession of men of differing temperament, training, and social position, who should with remarkable unity voice truths of religion not only hitherto unrecognised but rarely surpassed or apprehended in subsequent history, is in itself a unique phenomenon in comparative religion. Equally notable is the fact, that in the majority of the Prophets we have not only the gift of religious intuition, but that this is found in combination with great oratorical power, true poetic genius, and practical statesmanship. They remain for all time an indisputable witness to the Divine revelation in the development of Israel's religion.

Previous stages which we have been able to recognise in the development of Israel's religion do not carry us on to Amos by so inevitable a movement, that his message could be predicted as the next stage to be reached. When we come fresh from the investigation of the religion held by the leaders of the people in the times of David and Solomon, we recognise the immense strides made when we open the Book of Amos. We can trace a likeness between Elijah and Amos in their denunciation of wrong; but, in the sphere of religion, there is a great gulf between them which no records of the intervening period quite help us to bridge over. We cannot think of Amos taking part in the great vindication of Carmel; it is probable that he would have recognised it as useless. In Samuel, Elijah and Elisha we undoubtedly have the religious ancestors of the Literary Prophets, but while they stood at the head of popular movements which they led in triumph against the intrusion of alien faiths, the Prophets that we are now to study stand in decided antagonism to the popular faith, and the conceptions of Israel's religion which they reiterate with such passion and insistency were never acceptable to the people. Their religion has to make its way against the national religion.

The importance of the Prophets is the natural starting point for the modern study of the Old Testament, and it is from the earnest perusal of their writings that modern Biblical science has been forced to take up a rigorous criticism of the entire literature of the Old Testament. Under the old methods, the Prophets had only a secondary position in the history of the ancient revelation, since their message was conceived as rather concerned with an age yet to come than with their own times and needs. The Divine Law had already been given to the people, constituting a perfect norm of religion. When the people failed to obey the Law, then the Prophet appeared, enforced its principles, and condemned the people's apostasy. If that message was rejected, as it often was, then nothing was left for the Prophet but the proclamation of vengeance, or the prediction of a time when the Law should be ideally fulfilled by the revelation of the Gospel. Between the Law and the Gospel, therefore, stood the Prophets, but they acted only as a bridge from the one to the other. The natural method of studying their writings was to search for the fulfilment of their predictions in history. With these aims it was perhaps inevitable that their words should often be interpreted in a quite unwarrantable manner; events were read back into their prophecies, or the fulfilment was found in such ordinary coincidences that the dignity of prediction was itself lost, the study became puerile and morbid, while a fancied necessity as to what they must mean prevented any scholarly and unbiassed interpretation. Their works have consequently been largely used as mysterious oracles from which the future history of the world could be accurately predicted. To read the Prophets in order to obtain a picture of their own age was regarded as a secular occupation, while every attempt to recover the original application of their words was regarded as an endeavour to discountenance the proofs of Divine revelation. Many of their words bear remarkable likeness to the gracious invitations of the Gospel, so that they have been used equally with the New Testament for Gospel preaching, but it was never dreamed that they were real invitations to the people of their own times, founded on the eternal laws of God's forgiveness afterwards made clear in Christ; they were simply words spoken under mental effects which transferred the speakers to the time of the New Testament. Whatever the final results of the application of historical criticism may be, it has already laid religion under a permanent obligation in its discovery of the hitherto unrealised importance of the Prophets. At first attention was directed to their exalted ethical and religious standpoint, appearing as it did in an age that neither produced nor responded to it; minute study then showed that they gave first-hand and incidental accounts of their own times. Their messages bear witness to the contemporary state of the religion of Jehovah and the people's morals, and although it may be that they sometimes judged these from their own high standard, which caused them to paint them somewhat darker than an absolutely historical judgment would demand, yet on what the prevailing religious opinions of the day really were, they are the best evidence. The startling but unassailable deduction made from the Prophets' accounts of their own times is, that in matters religious they were proclaiming doctrines that seemed to their contemporaries entirely novel. The Prophets do not, however, acquiesce in the charge of novelty. They profess to go back to the original and inner meaning of Jehovah's choice of the nation. They refer to this choice, as a "covenant," and to the religion demanded by it, as the law of the Lord. The first inference is that they refer to that which _we_ know as the Law, the Pentateuch, or Law of Moses. A comparison with the Prophetic teaching with the ordinances of, say, the Book of Leviticus, shows that this cannot be the case, for they do not correspond. Many things there commanded as essential are passed over in silence by the Prophets; but the force of the argument is not wholly drawn from that, although it has a weight here which the argument from silence cannot usually carry, because both Leviticus and the Prophets' teaching set forth the essentials of religion, and there can be no possibility of doubt that the conceptions of the essentials have an altogether different outlook. It is chiefly, though not by any means entirely, from the standpoint of the Prophetical writings that modern criticism is forced to revise the conception of the progress and decline of religion that Jewish tradition has embodied in the arrangement of its Scriptures, and especially in the ascription of the Pentateuch as a whole to the age and authorship of Moses. The verdict from this comparison between the Prophets and the Law is, that the five Books of Moses either did not exist in their present form at the time of the Prophets, or, if they did, remained entirely unknown to them.

The historical value of the Prophets is therefore to be rated very high, not only because of their transparent sincerity, but also because the historical data which can be secured from them are given indirectly, and are valuable for the same reason as the remarks of a contemporary diarist. They are unaware that they are writing history, and are consequently free from the almost unescapable tendency of the historian to make the facts fit into preconceived theories. Modern criticism, therefore, does rightly in making the Prophets of paramount importance for the understanding of the Old Testament, and when the Prophets are thus made the test, much in the history that was either completely hidden or difficult to understand, becomes visible and clear, and the progress of Israel's religion is displayed in all its grandeur and movement.

We can now turn to examine the extent of the sources from which we may draw, in order to estimate the religious opinions and influence of the Prophets, and to examine the peculiar character of the literature for which they are responsible.

First in importance stand the Books of the Prophets proper. In the ancient division of the Hebrew Bible into, (1) The Law, (2) The Prophets, (3) The Hagiographa, or the holy writings, "The Prophets" included, beside our Books of the Prophets, such historical Books as Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings. Significantly enough, however, Daniel is not grouped with the Prophets, but with the Hagiographa, either because it was not classed as prophecy, or more probably because the Canon of "The Prophets" had been closed by the time it was written.

Therefore, in addition to the writings ascribed to the Prophets, there is a literature which has been influenced by their teaching, and this is found largely in those historical Books which have thus been rightly included in the Prophetical division of the Hebrew Bible. That is to say, however, that Books dealing with history prior to the rise of the Prophets, show traces of an influence that can only have emerged later. It is here that criticism seems to the ordinary reader to enter very debatable ground, although among critical students of the Bible the question is no longer an open one. They claim that the peculiar conditions under which Hebrew history was compiled allow us to discern, and to separate with ease, this later prophetical editing, whereas in other literatures such would be impossible. History was compiled among the Jews largely from pre-existing documents, much as it is everywhere, with the difference that in the Old Testament the records have been simply pieced together with whatever corrections and reductions were rendered necessary, while the conceptions of the later times, when this re-editing was accomplished, are often simply superimposed; this method has been ridiculed as an invention of the critical mind, but it is simply an indisputable if tiresome fact which has to be taken into account in any serious study of the literature. The narratives of the documents that have been named "J" and "E" bear the marks of having been combined under the influence of prophetical teaching, since this teaching, it is to be noted, is recognisably incompatible with other parts of the stories which have been left untouched.

It has been suggested that criticism seems to assume that religion progressed until it reached a certain height in the Eighth Century, and to enable this theory to stand all marks of this supposed later type appearing earlier are classed as interpolations. It is usual to trace this theory to "Evolution gone mad." Even on the critical theories this cannot however be legitimately shown to result, since critical reconstruction shows that the supreme height gained in the Prophets was never maintained, but suffered a perceptible decline. Whatever the guiding idea of criticism may be, it cannot be an endeavour to make the history of Israel's religion confirm some theory of the natural development and evolution of religion. The critical theories leave us with the problem of moral lapses to account for and with the failure of vision to explain, and demand still a moral insight to detect the cause. But it is clear to many that the moral causes do stand out more clearly discoverable by this method.

The critical theory of the priority of the Prophets is not based only upon the emergence under their teaching of certain theological ideas for the first time; but also on the difference of style and vocabulary which can be recognised after only a slight acquaintance with the language; and on the general outline of the history that the Bible itself forces upon us. It is a fact which the reader can soon discover for himself, that the historical Books are compilations from the records of various ages, and these various ages can be as easily discerned as the conflicting styles of an oft-restored church, or the disturbance of the normal geological strata that demands some upheaval for its explanation. It must be remembered that all this is made possible from the fact of the remarkable uniformity of ideas that characterises the various stages of Hebrew religion.

The Prophets' teaching can therefore be traced outside their own writings; mainly in fragmentary comments added to the narratives; or in a superimposed colouring, which easily falls off, leaving the original outlines in view; but it is supposed to be found grouped into one great mass in the Book of Deuteronomy. The critics' theory of this Book is that it is an endeavour to reduce the teaching of the Prophets, more especially that of Isaiah, to a code, and to secure reform by the centralisation of worship at Jerusalem. This idea of a central worship, which leaves no record of its actual observance until the time of Josiah, or perhaps an attempt in the reign of Hezekiah, is so unmistakable and is so uniformly expressed that the work of this author (perhaps we should say, this school) can be easily detected, and many of the Books, such as Judges and Kings, can be seen to have been subjected to a "Deuteronomist" redaction. In all these phenomena we have teaching that presupposes the Prophets, and that stands in contrast and often in conflict with the general tone of the original. It is remarkable that with such redactions of history any clue to the earlier conceptions should have been left to us, especially that there should have been left in the records anything that would be in disagreement with the editors' ideas, but the Jews, like the other nations of antiquity, did not possess modern notions of exactness, and their notions of history prevented them from understanding things that were removed only a short distance from their own times.

It is hardly surprising to find that this Prophetical literature was in turn liable to redaction, though in a different degree and for a different reason, since it has been preserved to us under peculiar conditions. This at first may seem terribly confusing to the bewildered student, and it is here that tired men reject criticism and all its works. To such the reminder cannot be spared that in any branch of Science the same conditions have to be overcome, and if he would understand the Old Testament and reap the magnificent reward that its earnest study gives, he must be prepared to face the facts and labour at their solution.

First of all then, it must be noted that the Books of the Prophets are not so much literature, in the ordinary sense of the word, as reported rhetoric, with the qualification that the reporter and the speaker may be usually assumed to be the same. In most cases the speeches were written out by the Prophet himself soon after they were delivered, although sometimes this was done by others long after, and expanded or altered, as is actually reported to have been the case with the prophecies of Jeremiah (Jer. xxxvi.).

In the second place, the literature reveals the fact that there does not seem to have been in that age any conception of literary property; ideas are borrowed directly from one Prophet by another, and sometimes direct quotation is made without any acknowledgment or indication of the source. The Prophet's scribe, his school or followers, could amend or paraphrase; later generations could evidently insert a qualifying phrase, temper a threat with a qualifying condition, or to the doom of exile add a promise of restoration. When it is noticed that messages like those of Amos or Hosea end unexpectedly in hopeful words, and when it is recollected that these Prophets have been used as Service Books in the Synagogue and may have been therefore altered to suit the purpose, then we shall understand the problem that faces us and why a shadow of suspicion should rest on promises of restoration that are to be found in pre-exilic writings. Let it be remembered however that it is no true critical canon to assume that prediction cannot be made; but what are we to do when such a prediction fits ill with the context, breaks the sense, is foreign to the outlook of the speaker, and is in later style?

Finally, there seem to have been many prophecies circulated anonymously, and since a place had to be found for these they were inserted in other writers, on no principle that we can discover, or more often were grouped together at the end of some notable Prophet's works. In Zechariah we have to suppose three strata of different authorship and date, or give up the rational study of the Book altogether; and in the famous case of the Book of Isaiah we have to suppose that some of the early chapters are the work of a post-exilic author, while chapters xl.-lxvi. are a heterogeneous collection by a number of writers, of which chapters xl.-lv. are recognised to be by one hand, and that, one of the most wonderful personalities which has contributed to the Old Testament; about that grand figure we only know one thing, that he was not Isaiah of Jerusalem. This has been called "sawing Isaiah asunder" and making the Bible a piece of patchwork and the critics are blamed; but if they are right, these complaints are not directed at them, but at the Bible itself, a proceeding which to say the least, is not pious. When a writer could say many years later that revelation came of old time in many fragments (Heb. i. 1), others beside critics fall under these hasty condemnations.

It is refreshing to turn from this less interesting part of our subject, which nevertheless demands serious study from anyone who would be informed where ignorance has done and still is doing so much harm, and to examine the features which distinguish the work of the literary Prophets. We have already spoken of the novelty of their message. Whatever theory is chosen for the study of Old Testament history, nothing quite prepares us for the message of the Prophet Amos. What an inspiration we miss because he does not stand in our Bibles in his rightful place, at the head of the Prophets! His bravery and ruggedness remind us of Elijah, but he brings something that Elijah is far from giving us. Elijah was very jealous for the due recognition of Jehovah as the only God for Israel; Amos is jealous for the recognition of the true _character_ of Jehovah. That is to say, we receive from Amos definite teaching concerning the character of Jehovah and His relations to the people of Israel, and these doctrines are startling to Israelitish ears.

Almost the first thing that strikes us as an outstanding characteristic of the Prophets is that they are conscious of a call to which they often appeal. Five of them definitely refer to the circumstances of their call (Amos vii. 14; Hosea i. 2; Isaiah vi.; Jer. i. 4-10; Ezek. i. 1-ii. 3). The same is true of their predecessors, but in a different way; they stand as defenders of the national religion because they belong to the prophetic guilds or possess certain gifts of vision. On the other hand the literary Prophets are against the national religion as a perversion of the true, and to this weary and warlike work they are called by immediate and special summons of God. This call is not self-originated nor can it be evaded (Jer. xx. 9), and in some cases there has been no preparation for the office (Amos vii. 14, 15), and even positive unfitness (Jer. i. 6). They are very careful therefore to distinguish themselves from the schools of prophets. Professionalism has disappeared, and in Jeremiah the official idea also vanishes.

The peculiar mental condition of the Prophets has of late years attracted a great deal of attention. The rapture and holy frenzy into which they are sometimes thrown remind us of the phenomena accompanying the early Prophetism, studied in our last lecture; but this is now accidental and is becoming rare. The Prophets often speak of this as "the hand of the Lord" upon them (Isa. viii. 11); in the visions of Ezekiel the effect is often described as overpowering (Ezek. iii. 14 ff.). There is a similarity between the accompaniments of these states and the trances which have been found in so many religious movements, and which are now attracting the attention of the scientific world so seriously. Only the results differ remarkably from the effects obtained in hypnotic and sub-conscious states, with which the prophetic gift has sometimes been compared. The Prophet still exhibits his natural style when under the influence of the Word of the Lord. Yet it may be that there is something to be learned along the lines of modern research; we know that if certain states of mental passivity can be induced, there lies open a new realm of knowledge, which, although it can be accounted for, cannot be summoned under ordinary mental conditions; add to this the superior moral constitution which seems to be missing from the mediums of spiritualistic phenomena to-day, and the prophetic consciousness becomes more comprehensible. The Prophets often speak of visions, but it is difficult to gather their actual character. It can hardly be objective; it is more like the artistic vision which creates within the mind in perfect detail and objectivity, so that what is seen has greater reality than any reproduction on canvas or in stone. The mind would seem to project its vision by the strength of its imaginative powers, so that, owing to the emotion aroused by the nature of the truth perceived, the revelation appears to come from an entirely external source. Sometimes it would seem to be an actual beholding of some natural object, which induces a train of thought, as the case of Amos's vision of the plumb-line may well be. We cannot think either of any organic hearing of their message, since they sometimes also declare that they "see" it.

Their predictive power has been exaggerated, chiefly because it was thought that this was the only office of the Prophet. Where it occurs it is mostly a natural deduction from their insight into the movements of their age, their conception of the unchangeable character of Jehovah, and their belief in His providential government; the emphasis is never upon details, and it may be added that the prediction is by no means always fulfilled. Their vision of the future usually takes a certain outline, or order; a national calamity is immediately impending, in which they recognise the punishment of the people's sins and the complete triumph and vindication of Jehovah; this will result in a purifying of the nation, and in the immediate succession there will come the Messianic or ideal era. Still there are predictions which cannot be explained on any theory yet broached, such as the prediction by Isaiah of the destruction of Sennacherib's army, or Jeremiah's prophecy of the Restoration. If this is ordinary second sight, then it is strange that it should have occurred in so many cases at this time when prophecy was dropping its mysterious accompaniments. Yet it may be recalled that in the history of all nations there has been, in times of great national affliction, a tendency to prophecy of this order, which can sometimes claim a remarkable fulfilment. The distinguishing glory of Israel's prophecy is, however, to be sought in its ethical character, and it is perhaps to the writings of men like our own Carlyle, where we often catch the old prophetic ring, that we are to look for its analogy.

Among the things that separate Amos from his predecessors is the use of a literary channel for the dissemination of his teaching, which was of course primarily preaching. This in itself marks a great change. What was it that led the Prophet to write down the message which he had delivered? It may have been that there was a tendency towards literature at that particular period, but even before this the habit of keeping records must have commenced, while there is evidence of collections of poems or sagas, such as the Book of Jasher, or the Book of the Wars of the Lord, being in existence from a very early period. It is evident therefore that we need some particular occurrence to account for the adoption of literature as the vehicle of Prophecy. It has been suggested that the cause is to be sought initially in the rejection of the message of Amos by those to whom it was delivered: he was aware of the permanent application of the truths that he had delivered, and since his own times would not hearken he resolved to commit them to the verdict of posterity. The example once set, it was natural for the succeeding Prophets to wish to give something more than the fleeting character of the spoken word to teaching that was new and that had been rejected, and therefore to adopt this form (Isa. viii. 16 f.). Whatever the cause, we are thankful for the results.

The channel chosen for the preservation of their messages was not purely literary; the form is not that of the essay, or thesis; it has not the studied elegance of poetry, yet it rises above prose, and rhythmic verse is found scattered throughout their writings. These reports of passionate oratory fall naturally into poetic form as the Prophet is carried away by his message. Especially do we find a very extensive use of symbolism, which has proved a trap into which the literalist has hastened to fall.

The relation of the Prophets to the State is difficult for us accurately to appreciate. Samuel, Elijah, and Elisha headed what were practically popular revolutions; in them nationalism overshadows the universally religious, or the purely moral ideal. To appreciate the contrast that the literary Prophets present to this, a careful study should be made of 2 Kings ix. 7-10; x. 30, and this compared with the verdict of Hosea, which rises above the standard of State interest to a judgment of universal morals (Hosea i. 4). The literary Prophets have no office at court and receive no fee (Micah iii. 2); but they have an official connection with the nation, which they regard as the chosen instrument for the establishment of God's reign; they have no conception of a secular state for Israel. It became therefore a tragedy for Jeremiah to be so completely rejected by the nation, for then he felt his prophetic office really ceased. It was this that drove him into a personal relationship with God that is not reached by any other of the Prophets. It is not correct to say that the Prophets were social reformers or practical politicians. Their sole concern is with religion, but it is a religion that goes very deep, and that must express itself in social and national ethics.

It is however upon their distinctive message that the chief interest centres, not only for the understanding of their age, but for their permanent contribution to religion.

It is a declaration of pure ethical Monotheism. Jehovah is not simply the tutelary deity of Israel; He is the Only God. The gods of the other nations are not real beings; this truth is vividly expressed in the scorn which is poured on idols and their worship. Jehovah is a spiritual Being; therefore the crusade against the idols that had been used in the worship of Jehovah is an outcome of prophetic teaching. This condemnation of idols in the worship of Jehovah is not actually met with until Hosea (xiii. 2), but that any visible form of Jehovah is derogatory to the true conception of His glory is the only possible deduction from prophetic teaching. We still get the naïve terms that refer to Jehovah as if He had bodily parts; but this is nothing more than the necessary imagery which all spiritual conceptions have to employ, and which are not mistaken by any save the most ignorant. This purely spiritual Being fills the whole universe (Deut. x. 14; 1 Kings viii. 27; Jer. xxiii. 24; esp. Isa. xxxi. 3, which implies more clearly than any other statement in the Old Testament the spirituality of God, and thus anticipates the declaration of Jesus to the woman of Samaria). But it is with the _ethical_ character of Jehovah that they are mostly concerned. He is righteous; which means more than the early conception that He simply defends Israel's right. They insist on His complete impartiality, which no choice of Israel for His own can turn aside: "You only have I known of all the families of the earth, _therefore_ will I visit upon you all your iniquities." They fall back again and again on His absolute fidelity and truthfulness. The arbitrary character which is ascribed to Jehovah in the Books of Samuel has completely disappeared; the Prophet can say: "Come and let us reason together, saith Jehovah."

Universalism is the necessary corollary to Monotheism, but the strong sense of Israel as His chosen instrument hinders the clear statement of this truth by the Prophets. A particular regard for Israel still colours their vision; but they are altogether against the popular estimate in maintaining that this choice was made solely as a means for reaching the whole world. Universalism is seen forming in the idea that Jehovah is concerned with the punishment of other nations, since He it is who will punish them for their sins; not only for their hatred of His chosen, but for their cruelty to other nations: He will punish Moab for his inhumanity to Edom (Amos ii. 1). This is a great advance. Even when the surrounding nations afflict Israel it is not because the Lord has no control over them, but it is He that raises up the hostile powers as instruments of His chastisement. Even kinder views are to be found in Amos, in whose tiny book we find nearly all the characteristic ideas of the Prophets; for Jehovah is said to have been concerned in the early migratory movements not only of the Hebrews, but of the hated Philistines and Assyrians (Amos ix. 7). The grand universalism of Isaiah xix. 19-25 only needs us to recall the part that Egypt and Assyria played in the history of Israel, in order to appreciate its magnanimity. Yet in spite of these passages, the outlook as a whole is centred on Israel, and works of a definitely universalistic nature could hardly have found a place in the canon. This spirit probably made it necessary for the writer of "Jonah" to embody his universalistic doctrines in the form of an obscure parable about a Prophet and a whale. It was the same national bigotry that led to the rejection of the Son of man.

It is in the idea of the conditions of the covenant between Jehovah and Israel that the teaching of the Prophets stands in such contrast to the conceptions of the people. That relation was conceived of, as we have seen, as tribal; the Prophets declare it to rest on a covenant of choice, which is to be maintained by the adherence of the parties to the original terms. They love to place in contrast the unwearied faithfulness of Jehovah and the fickleness of the people; while they alternate between threats of Jehovah's complete rejection and the recurring thought that despite all He can never change, and against all known custom will even welcome back the harlot nation. Jehovah's requirements from Israel, for the proper maintenance of the covenant, are simply the full allegiance of the people; but how this is to be displayed is not so definitely described. There must be a pure worship of Jehovah, but this is not to find expression in accurate ritual or great sacrifices. Indeed it cannot be claimed that the Prophets are at all concerned about ritual. The Book of Deuteronomy distinctly lays down that the true worship of Jehovah is to be performed at one chosen central spot, while Leviticus provides an elaborate method of approach, which can only be neglected at the peril of the worshipper. On the other hand, it is certain that the Prophets found the people worshipping at the "high places," the old Canaanitish shrines, with many customs which would be a direct infringement of the Code of Leviticus, yet they are entirely unconcerned with these faults. The principle of sacrifice as a means of worship had existed from ancient times, and is to be found in nearly all religions; yet there is an overwhelming verdict from the pre-exilic Prophets that shows that they are doubtful of its Divine appointment or of its necessity. (These passages should be carefully examined:--Amos v. 25; Hosea vi. 6; Isa. i. 11-17; Micah vi. 6-8; 1 Sam. xv. 22; Jer. vi. 20; vii. 21-23; and Jeremiah may have been a priest!) There is only one conclusion possible; these Prophets had never seen the Book of Leviticus.

The ritual which the Prophets seek is that of an upright life. They base all their morality on religious ideas. The great incentive to moral conduct is the recognition that the whole nation and land is the property of Jehovah; any social wrong is wrong against Him. So we find that the earliest attempt to formulate this teaching in a code contains many regulations which are purely humanitarian (Deut. xiv. 29; xix. 2 ff.; xxi. 10-17; xxii. 1-3; xxiv. 6, 10-15). Ritual is turned into ethics. Against the inequalities and injustices of their day the Prophets set their faces, with an utter disregard for consequences: they hurled their accusations at the nation with tremendous energy, in public, before kings, as men went up to worship; fiery denunciation mingling with a patriot's tears; for the time, all unavailing. Yet they have had their harvest, and to-day they are among the voices that call men to social reform.

It will be well to endeavour to show, in the briefest possible outline, the historic setting of this mighty message.

It was shortly after the opening of the Eighth Century that threatening indications began to gather on the horizon of Northern Israel. The situation called for a Prophet's message. Amos, the herdman of Tekoa, comes like a whirlwind from Judah, utters his message at Bethel and returns. He is the first and in many respects the greatest of that meteoric band who illumine the dark night of Israel's history; later Prophets repeat his words and share his ideas. Hosea, from the Northern Kingdom, follows in his steps, but with a message made the more tender from the fact that the whole drama of Israel's unfaithfulness to her husband Jehovah had been brought home to him in a personal domestic tragedy. The tender heart which led him to forgive his unfaithful wife, wondered if Jehovah would not be equally forgiving, and through this experience he almost penetrates to the thought of God as Love. A few years later, a voice is heard in the villages of Judah proclaiming the message of Amos with the same call to simple reality: Micah pleads for simple life, simple worship, simple justice. With this transference of the prophetic voice to the Southern Kingdom there falls an awful silence on the North. In 722 B.C., Samaria fell before the arms of Assyria, and Israel ceased to exist. For centuries that land was to remain silent and despised, until there should come from Galilee of the Gentiles He of whom all the Prophets spake. One would expect that the awful doom which had overtaken the Northern Kingdom would not have been without effect on Judah. Its only visible effect was the strengthening of her belief in her own inviolability, and the acceptance of the idea that Israel's fall was due to her separation from Judah. If a Prophet could have turned the people's thought in a saner direction, then it would have been accomplished by Isaiah, the most princely and the most literary of all the Prophets. His work was not indeed without effect. He was the means of lifting prophecy into popular favour, and a revival followed his teaching. The chief cause of this favour was the events of the memorable year, 701 B.C. In face of the demands of Assyria, Isaiah had all along counselled submission and the avoidance of all intrigues with Egypt. But the violation of the treaty by Sennacherib, who demanded the surrender of the city after he had been bought off, roused the anger of Isaiah. In answer to the insulting message of the Rabshakeh, while the army lay round the city, in obedience to the word of Jehovah he counsels resistance. Nothing seemed more improbable than that there could be any escape for Jerusalem; nevertheless he declared that the holy city should be inviolable. The great host with their insolent captain lay before the gates, but in the morning

"The Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Had melted like snow in the glance of the Lord."

Whatever the actual cause of the raising of the siege may have been, there can be no doubt that something did happen to the Assyrian army which Isaiah was able to attribute to the intervention of Jehovah, for from this time Isaiah became famous. To those who see in the fulfilment of prediction the chief end of prophecy this event will naturally seem of profound importance. To another view of the function of prophecy this is the least thing that Isaiah did, for while it lifted his name into popular favour, that same deliverance proved a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem. For his declaration of the city's inviolability was remembered long after, and quoted as if it had been of universal, instead of temporary application, while his moral teaching was forgotten. To that trick of national memory the exile was largely due.

From this time the sacrosanct character of the city obsessed the popular mind, and in consequence the Temple became, for the first time since its erection, of supreme significance in Jewish eyes. Following Isaiah, there was a movement, commenced probably by his disciples, that strove to bring the Temple into prominence as the one authorised place of worship. Possibly during the reactionary reign of Manasseh, when their master is said to have been martyred, they worked at this idea, and driven into silence by the persecutions of the king they employed their pens in producing a code of laws, which undoubtedly gathered into legal form many of the customs which had existed for centuries, and endeavoured to give them the religious interpretation of the prophetic teaching. Its chief injunction was the suppression of the high places as no longer authorised for the worship of Jehovah, hoping to centre thereby the whole of the nation's worship at the Temple. This code was probably laid up for publication in brighter days, and was discovered in the reign of Josiah, in the year 621 B.C. There can be but little doubt, from the reforms instituted, and from the total disregard of them until this time, that this code was our Book of Deuteronomy. Since it was published under the name of Moses, many moderns have looked upon its compilation as a pious forgery. This is to read into a past age the legal conceptions of Western civilisation. It must be remembered that many of these laws could be legitimately traced back to Moses or to his influence, and there was no idea of deception in using his name. The hand of the School which produced this work can also be traced in the compilation and redaction of other historical works, which were undertaken with this idea of making the past history teach the value of the reforms they wished the people to adopt. This was not only regarded as legitimate, but as a sacred duty imposed upon them. The modern historical ideal, which instigates research with the sole intention of discovering the facts, is only the product of our own age, and is still unsuccessfully striven after. The reformation under Josiah is therefore known as the Deuteronomic reformation. From this time the Temple becomes the only spot where God can be publicly worshipped, and the local shrines are forbidden. This may seem an arbitrary action, and it is possible that for some time it called forth loud complaints; but it was certainly for the benefit of religion. It had been proved to be impossible to dissociate the local shrines from the customs and ideas which had descended from the original Canaanitish worship carried on there. With a central worship it was found possible to check practices that were not in accordance with the religion of Jehovah. The teaching of the Prophets finds then in the Book of Deuteronomy its first-fruits of reform.

The relation of one young man to this new movement is full of peculiar interest and difficulty. It was at this very time that Jeremiah began his ministry, and it is possible that he took some part in the movement (Jer. xi. 8). He also lived to see the reaction and to prove that the reform was only superficial. There is one passage which seems to point to a change of view and even to the suspicion that the new code was not authoritative (Jer. vii. 8). When Jeremiah attacked the sin of the people, and warned them that the presence of Jehovah's Temple would not suffice to protect them if they persisted in their iniquity, his message was rejected and eventually he was imprisoned and silenced by a coalition of the priests and prophets. Jeremiah ceased therefore to be the Prophet of that nation. In his loneliness and sorrow, his thoughts turned in an hitherto unexplored direction. He complains to God in words which sound almost blasphemous, and pours forth expostulations that are the reverse of the submissive spirit usually thought proper to religion; but it is through this agony that Jeremiah discovers that God can be something to him, not only as the Prophet of the nation, but for himself. He discovers personal religion. His next discovery is equally momentous; for he is led to see that no promulgation of laws can save the nation: ordinances do not change the heart. He sorrowfully pronounces the doom of the nation, but as he stands by its open grave he sings of its resurrection. When purged by trial the nation shall return, and the New Covenant shall be set up, in which Jehovah shall write His laws in their hearts. It is a long far-off look that he gives, and the picture is not complete until One sits at a last supper and says: This cup is the New Covenant in my blood.

THE EFFECT OF THE EXILE

Dates for reference:--

B.C. 597. Jehoiachin and 10,000 captives deported to Babylon, and Zedekiah made king in his stead. FIRST CAPTIVITY. 587-6. Jerusalem besieged, Zedekiah taken to Babylon, Jerusalem and the Temple destroyed, and the whole population, save the very poorest, deported to Babylon. SECOND CAPTIVITY. 538. Cyrus issues edict for Return. Return under Sheshbazzar (?) (Ezra i.). 537. Return under Zerubbabel (Ezra ii.). 458. Arrival of Ezra. 445. First Mission of Nehemiah. 433. Second Mission of Nehemiah.

There is a good deal of uncertainty about the above dates, and the condition of the documents in Ezra-Nehemiah offers difficulties which have not, so far, found acceptable solutions. Some have sought to identify Sheshbazzar with Zerubbabel, and to bring down the date of the Return to 522-21.

It will be seen from the above Table that Jeremiah's prophecy of Seventy Years was not literally fulfilled.

* * * * *

The student would receive a clear idea of the growth of Israel's institutions and the way in which they have been incorporated in the successive documents, by tracing the development of the Sabbath in the following passages.

Some claim that the Records of Babylonia show that the observance of the seventh day as sacred goes back to the origins of primitive Semitic religion.

(1) In "J-E" (which may be prior to Amos in oral form, and perhaps slightly later as documents): Exod. xxiii. 12; xxxiv. 21; xx. 8.

(2) In historical books: 2 Kings iv. 22, 23; Amos viii. 5; Hosea ii. 11; Isa. i. 13.

(3) In "D": Deut. v. 14.

(4) In Jer. xvii. 19-27. (Jeremiah is the first writer to show traces of the influence of Deuteronomy.)

(5) In "H," The Code of Holiness (Lev. xvii.-xxvi.): Lev. xix. 3, 30; xxvi. 2.

(6) In Ezek. xx. 12, 13.

(7) In "P": Gen. ii. 1-3; Exod. xx. 10, 11; xxxi. 12-17; xxxv. 1-3; Lev. xxiii. 3; Num. xv. 32-36; Exod. xvi. 5, 22-30.

(8) In post-exilic observance: Neh. xiii. 15-22; Isa. lvi. 2, 4, 6; lviii. 13, f.; lxvi. 23.

Lecture VII

THE EFFECT OF THE EXILE

In the year 597 B.C., a catastrophe long foretold befell the Kingdom of Judah. Nebuchadrezzar invaded the land, took Jerusalem, and robbing the land of every person of importance or usefulness, transported them together with King Jehoiachin to Babylon, hoping doubtless to prevent any further trouble with Judæa. In what a conflict of emotion must the exiles have left that city which they had fondly imagined inviolable! for even in Babylon they continued to believe that so long as Jerusalem stood, Jehovah would have a citadel, and the holy city would remain a symbolic witness to their unconquered religion. With the captives there went a young man who was destined to leave a deep impression upon the future of his nation--the priest Ezekiel. Arrived in Babylon, he felt himself called to a prophetic ministry to the exiles, and his first message was directed to the crushing of their remaining hopes; for with dramatic symbolism he predicted that Jerusalem would be utterly destroyed. The suicidal policy of Zedekiah, whom Nebuchadrezzar had left to carry on the government as his vassal, soon fulfilled this prophecy; for sedition and intrigue soon compelled Nebuchadrezzar to adopt still stricter measures. He again marched into Judæa and besieged Jerusalem. This time the Jews expected no mercy, and resisted with such tenacity that the siege lasted for nearly two years. On the ninth day of the Fourth month, (our July) 586 B.C., a day still kept with solemn fasting by the Jews, a breach was made in the walls and the city capitulated. A month later the entire destruction of the city and Temple was ruthlessly carried out, and the whole population, with the exception of a few husbandmen, was deported to swell the company of exiles now at Babylon.

This was the inevitable culmination of the policy of the Kingdom of Judah under her latest monarchs. The position of their land laid them open to conflicts with the powers of Assyria and Babylon. The wise and peaceful policy of Solomon had been departed from, and indeed rendered impossible by the disruption of the Tribes. A period of national decadence seems to have followed, in which luxury and corruption undermined all political sanity, and both rulers and people became blind to the dangers that threatened. Such religion as existed, only expressed itself in bursts of fanaticism, and filled the people with the fatal idea that Jehovah would never suffer the Temple to be violated or the holy city to be taken.

The disaster of the Exile is charged by the Prophets to the unrepented sins of the nation, and while this is a religious interpretation it is not unsupported by a review of the history. The people had set their hearts upon a glorious kingdom of material prosperity, presided over and protected by a mighty national deity; the Prophets wanted a kingdom of righteousness, which would reflect the character of Jehovah and be a witness to the nations of His reality and power. While they saw in the Exile a calamity which meant the destruction of the nation, and an evidence that Jehovah had broken His covenant because of disobedience, they clung to the belief that the end for which Jehovah had chosen Israel might still be attained. That nation might be destroyed, yet from its ruins there would arise a Kingdom of God; a remnant would return, weaned from a false religion, to work out a new ideal of holiness and service.

The period which follows is one of great obscurity and the records which are actually dated from this time are scanty. Literary criticism however throws great light on this period because it believes that it is from the Exile that we are to date many institutions and writings that have been referred to a previous age. This may seem at first sight a desperate device, since so little is known of the actual conditions; and yet unfettered investigation can arrive at no other conclusion, the exilic stamp being often unmistakable and even showing itself in geographical outlook (1 Kings iv. 24). If we take the Bible as it stands, it presents us with the story of an early legislation given by Moses, neglected however by the entire people, including the Reformers and Prophets, until it suddenly appears after the Exile as the acknowledged code for the regulation of religion and common life. It would be quite possible to conceive that the shock of the Exile drove the Jews to examine the details of the neglected covenant of Jehovah and to restore the authority of the Law of Moses. Such however is impossible, not only from that fact that there is no mention of the Law of Moses in the records that can be dated between the Conquest of Canaan and the Exile, but that in this period we can discern customs and ideas _gradually_ growing up that find their full and final embodiment in the Pentateuch as we now possess it. From the lawless condition of the Judges and the early monarchy, we advance to the teaching of the Prophets. It is Isaiah who contributes the ideas which lie at the basis of the Deuteronomic Code, and the time of Josiah is the first to show the influence of that code. Ezekiel is the first to show any trace of the ideas which we find embodied in Leviticus, but these, as we shall see, have to be explained as anticipations of, rather than as an acquaintance with, the finished Levitical Code.

When we consider what effect the Exile would have upon the more thoughtful of the Jews, we can imagine that conscience would be shocked into activity, and a new interest would be taken in their strange history, especially in its prophetic interpretation. It is common in history to find that repentance rarely goes so deep as to grasp the inner meaning of its discovered sin, but is apt to content itself with somewhat superficial methods of showing its sincerity and securing future compliance with religion. So at least, the records of Israel's history assure us, happened in this instance, and one of the resolutions of their penitence took concrete form in the writing or editing of their history so that it should be a warning to the future, and in codifying customs and drawing up regulations which should make apostasy for ever impossible. Many references in the ancient records or in the oral tradition which savoured of idolatry or of a too anthropomorphic conception of God were corrected, as those references, the tendency of which was not detected, have remained to bear witness; and the whole history was fitted somewhat clumsily into a mechanical scheme, which was rather what they thought ought to have happened than what really did happen. One example of this may be seen in the condemnation which is naïvely passed on king after king because he had allowed sacrifice to be made at the high places; the fact being that this was not made illegitimate until the reign of Josiah. In this way external offences were marked and abandoned, while the deeper incongruity between the national religion and the teaching of the Prophets was missed.

If we seek in this period for the rise of ideas which shall bridge over the change from the popular religion on the one hand, and the religion of Jeremiah on the other, to the complete unity of the national religion under Nehemiah and Ezra, we shall find a most important link in the Book of Ezekiel.

The Book of Ezekiel is said to be the least read book in the Bible, yet its author plays a most important part in the history of Israel's religion, and to grasp the position which he occupies is to have a focus point from which the whole development may be conveniently grasped. The Prophet probably got a better hearing from his contemporaries than any of his predecessors. He accompanied the body of captives who left Jerusalem for Babylon in the year 597, and his works date from soon after that year and go down to about 570. The men to whom he was called to speak were therefore his fellow captives, and he had not to look far for a text for his sermons. His hearers were in Babylon for their sins, and they knew it. His style of preaching is difficult, and his method of embodying his message in visions marks a new phenomenon in Israel's religion. He states truth in strange and fanciful figures, a method which was to form an example for the later works of Judaism, and if we detect in Ezekiel a return to the extravagance of the earlier prophecy, we must make allowance for the tragic times in which he lived; especially must we do this where we trace a falling off from his predecessors in moral insight and in the ritualistic influence which his work undoubtedly left behind him.

Ezekiel continues the work of the pre-exilic Prophets in that he proclaims their characteristic doctrines, and naturally he shows distinct traces of the influence of Jeremiah. What is new, is that he gives to those doctrines a more fixed and somewhat pedantic form, and a greater self-consciousness is discernible; the prophecies are accurately arranged, and the language is marked by precision; rhetoric is less frequent, and the prophecies look more fit for reading than for delivery. The idea of God is the same as in the earlier Prophets, but in Ezekiel it is elevated and rarified; especially is great emphasis laid upon the attribute of holiness, which is however a ceremonial rather than a purely ethical conception. The characteristic idea of the Prophets, that Jehovah chose Israel not for their own sakes, becomes the idea that Jehovah did this for His own sake alone, and this is so often repeated that it almost looks like arbitrariness. The cause of Judah's punishment is still traced to the sin of the people, but that sin is now definitely determined to be idolatry; and this is insisted on almost to the exclusion of the social and ethical wrongs assailed by the earlier Prophets. While, however, Ezekiel enforces the bitter lessons of the Exile, he carefully distinguishes the true interpretation of that disaster from that which rose readily to the popular mind. He disposes of the conception that the Captivity was due to the inability of Jehovah to defend His own land (xxxvi. 20); it was a punishment for sin (xxxix. 23), and in His own time He will prove this by restoring them to their land again (xxxix. 25). Neither will he allow them to rest in the flattering thought that they were only suffering for the unvisited sins of a former generation; he insists, probably with greater rigour than experience would sanction, that each man bears his own sin, and never suffers for the sins of others. But to those who admit the justice of his charges, and who therefore regard the future as hopeless, he preaches a tender doctrine of forgiveness and the possibility of cleansing from sin. From the events of his times, he seeks to draw lessons which should redeem the mistakes that had been made in the past: the teaching of the Prophets must be kept before the people in definite rules and religious ceremonies. Old customs, whose original significance had long been forgotten, were invested with new interpretations worthy of the true religion of Jehovah, and were made not only customs, but religious commands. In the book which bears his name, and especially in chapters xl.-xlviii., he outlines a policy in which the whole of national life is comprehended in its religious significance, and thus the calamity of future apostasy prevented. The new State is to centre round the idea of worship: the Temple with its services and appointments is to be the expression of the national life. Now in this scheme there is little doubt that we have the beginning of the Levitical system, for Ezekiel is related to Leviticus as the rough sketch to the finished plan. If Leviticus in its present form existed in Ezekiel's time, then the work of the Prophet was not only entirely unnecessary, but careless and presumptuous. Some of the facts which point to the priority of Ezekiel to the Levitical Code may be noticed. In the Levitical Code we find that a distinction is made between priests and Levites. This is not found in Deuteronomy (xvii. 9, 18; xviii. 1) but is first found in Ezekiel (xliv. 10-15), where it is explained to be due to the degradation of the Levites as a punishment for leading the people into idolatry; in Leviticus we reach the final stage, where the distinction is accepted without explanation. In Ezekiel we have no mention of the high-priest or of the Day of Atonement, both of which figure so largely in the Priest's Code, although we can find _foreshadowings_ of the Day of Atonement (Ezek. xlv. 18-20). Indeed we meet with no mention of the Day of Atonement, apart from the Priestly Code, until Zechariah (vii. 5; viii. 19). The general conclusion may be safely drawn, that during and after the Exile, Ezekiel's ideas were stiffened and developed into the full legislation now preserved for us in Leviticus.

We may rightly claim Ezekiel to be the founder of Judaism, with its transcendent conception of Jehovah and its great attention to ceremonial detail, and we are bound therefore to recognise in Ezekiel a falling off from the ideals of the pre-exilic Prophets; he is a prophet in priest's clothing. Yet it may be questioned whether the idealistic teaching of the Prophets could have been preserved through the periods of the Exile and the Restoration, without this formal process. An outer husk of formality had to develop in order that the living kernel might be protected during the critical years when Persia, Greece, and Rome were to press their alien ideas upon this people. It has been well for the world that Ezekiel clothed the Prophets' teaching in the resisting garments of Judaism.

The Exile could not fail to leave upon the Jewish nation an imperishable mark, and they emerged from that trial a different people. It was a shock that brought a repentance the Prophets had often laboured for in vain, and this repentance was marked by the initiation of many new movements in thought, and by a more stringent and solemn observance of their peculiar institutions. Probably in that alien land many of the Jews adopted the customs of their conquerors, since it is estimated that not more than a small fraction returned to Palestine. This defection would impress upon those who remained faithful the necessity for a strict policy of separation, and from this time certain institutions which had been inherited from ancient Semitic practice received a new meaning. Chief among these may be noticed the observance of the Sabbath, and the rite of circumcision. The observance of a certain day as sacred to the gods is a custom that is found in nearly all early religions, and there are traces of such an observance in the Babylonian religion. We do not find however in the historical books of the Bible that mention of the Sabbath which would be expected, if it was observed with the strictness common after the Exile. There are traces of an observance, not strictly defined, save that it is in association with the new moon feasts, and is combined with social relaxation (2 Kings iv. 22, 23; Hosea ii. 11; Amos viii. 5; Isa. i. 13). Even before the Exile however a more religious conception had arisen (Jer. xvii. 19-27), and is even then referred to as an earlier command. The change after the Exile was towards an ever increasing strictness (Isa. lvi. 2, 4, 6; lviii. 13; lxvi. 23; Neh. xiii. 15-22).

The rite of circumcision was by no means peculiar to the Jewish religion (Jer. ix. 25, 26), except perhaps in so far as it was performed in infancy: its origin and growth are very obscure. Its original significance was early lost and its interpretation was probably due to the Prophets themselves, who often referred to a spiritual circumcision, and thus made possible the full ceremonial interpretation which became so important a feature in later Judaism.

We have seen that there is evidence to prove that the religion of Israel had not always been averse to the use of idols as part of the legitimate worship of Jehovah. The Prophets began the protest against this, not so much because of its principles, but because of the immoral practices with which idol worship was connected. But after the Exile, idolatry was for ever separated from the worship of Jehovah, and in the later Prophets idolatry becomes the target for their most scornful invective. It has been suggested that this new abhorrence accounts for the non-return of the Ark, which in this period disappears from history.

Among the most important of the new institutions that can be traced back to the period of the Exile is the founding of the Synagogue. In the land of Exile, away from the one spot where sacrifice was permitted, worship had to be carried on without the aid of sacrificial or ceremonial rites, but there was nothing to prevent the people from gathering together for prayer or to hear read their newly reverenced prophetic books. It is quite possible that this led to a collection of the Prophets' writings being made, and perhaps to some editing to meet their present needs. This movement was of profound importance for the future development of religion, for it was in the Synagogue rather than in the Temple that Christianity was to find the readiest medium for its dissemination and the earliest model for its worship. The Synagogue itself prepared the way for the more spiritual developments within Judaism, for away from the Temple sacrifices and their always dangerous suggestions men learned that the sacrifice of the broken heart was more acceptable to Jehovah; and so the way was prepared for that magnificent collection of prayers and songs which we call the Psalms, which were afterwards to be used as an accompaniment to a form of worship that they frequently condemn. The external and legal conceptions were, however, to be the most visible results gained from the Exile, and they were to mould religion for many a year.

The materials for an exact history of the return from Exile do not exist in our Bibles; the accounts found in Ezra and Nehemiah raise questions which have not yet been satisfactorily answered. The Prophets who had foretold the destruction of the kingdom of Judah had never been able to rest in the thought that this was the final chapter in Jehovah's dealings with His people, and their faith forced them to peer through this impending disaster and dimly discern a purpose yet to be disclosed. This is often pictured in merely general terms, but in Jeremiah and Ezekiel these hopes issued in the definite prophecy of the restoration of the Jews to their own land within a certain period. When political changes brought this on the horizon of possibility, the times wakened the "voice of one crying in the wilderness," in some respects the most wonderful of all that noble band we have been studying. The name of this herald has not been preserved, but he is known to criticism as the Second Isaiah. This does not of course mean that he bore that name, but it is a convenient designation for the writings that occupy the second half of the work included under the name of Isaiah. The separation of chapters xl.-lxvi. from those which precede, as from different hands, is one of the most universally accepted results of criticism. The preceding chapters end with a historic survey of events that happened in the lifetime of the great Isaiah of Jerusalem, and then suddenly the whole outlook and atmosphere change. Critics claim that the test of language and style is itself decisive, but while this must remain a question on which only Hebrew experts are qualified to pronounce, the difference of theological ideas, and the change of situation cannot be missed by any attentive English reader. Indeed that the situation has changed is a fact which has never been challenged. From chapter xl., the audience addressed consists no longer of the proud and scornful peoples of the time of Hezekiah, but of penitent captives far from their native land some 150 years later; the accepted explanation used to be that Isaiah transported himself to this later time by a miracle of prophetic inspiration. But there is really only one adducible reason for attributing this prophecy to Isaiah: it is bound up with the book that bears his name as the title. This reason is of little value when we admit our ignorance of the method by which the Old Testament was finally edited, and when the internal evidence entirely contradicts the traditional theory. For it must be borne in mind that the explanation that this is due to a prophetic transportation is only a hypothesis framed to fit the conditions, and has no claim to acceptance if there can be found one that does equal justice to the facts without appealing to such an unusual method. Moreover, the hypothesis of prediction does not fit the facts, for while some parts of the prophecy have predictive form, others have not. For instance, the picture of Cyrus and his conquests, complete even to the name of the hero, is not only presented as if he were on the stage of actual history, but his appearance is adduced as a convincing evidence of the fulfilment of prophecy. What fulfilment would it be if Cyrus was yet a figure of the unknown future? If it is claimed that this presentation is due to what is known to Hebrew grammarians as a use of the _prophetic present tense_, in which things future in fact, are stated as present, owing to the vividness of the prophetic consciousness, then we must ask why it is that Cyrus is presented as a figure of contemporary history, while the fall of Babylon is still spoken of as future. This distinction would be meaningless if the whole of this period was seen from some anterior time.

The "settled results" of criticism were greatly ridiculed when further investigation pronounced that only chapters xl.-lv. can have come from this great Prophet, and that the remainder of the book is of a composite character, extending at least to the time of the Second Temple. To have to bring in a third author, or even more, to explain this book is quoted as an example of the foolishness of criticism. Now the critics _may_ be wrong, but their theories are simply endeavours to understand these prophecies by setting them in their exact historical surroundings. Surely this is a task worthy of any reverent student of the Old Testament, and if it brings, as many believe, wonderful light on these messages, and thus sets free their eternal significance, then these men should earn gratitude rather than ridicule, when the difficulty of their task calls for a continual rearrangement and a finer adjustment.

The critical reconstruction of this prophecy therefore places chapters xl.-lv. among the scenes it depicts, and in the very history whose movements called it forth. The exact conditions can be discerned. After the death of Nebuchadrezzar the kingdom of the Chaldæans began to decline, and when Cyrus succeeded to the throne of Persia its fate was determined. His victorious campaigns, culminating in the fall of Sardis in B.C. 547, could not fail to reach the ears of the exiles in Babylon, and many a whisper of hope must have been exchanged, and many a prophecy handed on. Babylon itself fell before the conqueror in 538 and between these two dates, and perhaps nearer to the latter, the internal witness of the prophecy demands that it should be placed.

When we turn to examine the work of this unknown messenger we cannot help noticing the difference in style, which even the translation cannot obscure. The great Isaiah writes in terse, closely-packed sentences, with all the authoritative manner customary with the Prophets. This writer, on the other hand, is rhetorical, and loves to dwell on his favourite ideas. The sharp word of the prophetic deliverance here gives way to a reasoning exposition and a pleading tenderness that makes this prophecy a Gospel before the Gospels. The distinctive religious ideas can be easily marked. Absolute Monotheism is insisted on with a fulness and repetition which shows that it is in some degree a new truth. There is none beside Jehovah; He is alone, unique; and description is exhausted in the endeavour to picture His glory and power. He is now constantly referred to as the Creator of the world, the framer of the stars on high, the maker of both darkness and light, both good and evil; so that no room is left for the dualism that the Prophet may have learned to despise in the Babylonian religion. His finest scorn is reserved for the conception that an idol can have any claim to divinity. He depicts the process of their manufacture, their utter helplessness; it may be that he had seen them borne in to the capital as the suburbs fell before the invader.

Universalism struggles for expression in this writer, but it is not always so clear and definite as in the writings of the great Isaiah. This arises however, not so much from the racial prejudices that have so clogged the Hebrew mind, as from a reading of Israel's history which the prophet was well entitled to make, namely, that she was to be the premier nation in the instruction of the world in righteousness and the knowledge of God, the priest-nation of humanity. This conception of the nation's history and destiny is embodied in a personification known as the Servant of Jehovah. Israel has been chosen as the Servant so that the light may be brought to the nations. In this mission the Servant meets with persecution, yet turns not back from those who pluck off the hair nor hides his face from shame and spitting. The slightest retrospect of Israel's history shows that the Servant of Jehovah was trained for his task only through suffering. Israel had suffered for her sins of presumption and disobedience; but were the nations who punished her any more righteous? Moreover, many of those who sat down by the waters of Babylon and wept when they remembered Zion must have been pious and righteous, and innocent of the causes of their nation's calamities. As the prophet broods over the meaning of the Exile, as it affected the godly remnant, he begins to see that this suffering, undeserved though it might be in particular cases, would become a supreme lesson in righteousness to the world. This assumption is embodied in the astonishing drama of the suffering Servant; one who suffers from a disfiguring disease, which marks him out to all beholders as the afflicted of Jehovah, and who is therefore despised and rejected of men. But the day comes when the idea slowly dawns upon men that this servant-nation suffered for the sake of the world, bore the consciousness of sin when other nations lived in carelessness and flourished on cruelty. The Prophet believed that this patient suffering would be an awakening force and would be the means of bringing the world to the knowledge of God. It is a marvellous reading of Israel's history; but it is true, for that little nation despised and rejected by Empires, battered by the armed forces which surrounded her, has made the whole world her debtor. But indirectly this interpretation is a revelation of the meaning of all history, and especially of that strange law of vicarious suffering which binds all the world one and makes every new age in debt to the past. This unknown writer has contributed one of the most fruitful ideas to the philosophy of history.

It is not surprising that most early commentators have tried to read in the 53rd chapter a picture, not of a nation, but of some definite person; although the Prophet definitely identifies the Servant of the Lord with Israel (Isa. xli. 8). But when did Israel embody such a conception? It can only stand for an ideal of what Israel ought to have been; and there have been many things which have entered into the composition of the picture. It has been suggested that one of the Prophets sat for this picture, just as sometimes an artist painting a symbolical picture will get one of his friends to sit for the model; and who could be better for this purpose than Jeremiah, the rejected of the nation? The interpretation that finds in this picture a minute prediction of the life and passion of Jesus is not sanctioned by a careful study of the passage; but the instinct that has led to this is right in the main, for as we travel down the ages looking for the fulfilment of this ideal, we only rest with complete satisfaction on the story of the life and death of One who stepping out from this very race, by His uninterrupted communion with God, His hatred of sin and His profound sympathy with mankind, bore away the sin of the world on the red flood of sacrifice, and brought in for ever the true Kingdom of God.

An increasing number of Old Testament scholars believe that another of the Prophets contains an interpretation of the Exile, conceived in the same spirit as that of the Second Isaiah, although veiled under such a strange allegorical form that centuries of Jewish and Christian interpretation have entirely missed its meaning. The book of the Prophet Jonah belongs to a later age, and should probably stand last of all the Minor Prophets, but the critical interpretation of the prophecy falls naturally to be considered here. The character of the Book reveals on close inspection that it was never intended for history; as its inclusion among the prophetical writings perhaps recognises. It is not only the improbability of the whale episode that has led to this conclusion, but the whole character of the events narrated: the sudden growth and withering of the gourd, the instant repentance of the Ninevites, which included a forced régime of fasting even for the cattle! Moreover, the closing words of the book breathe a spirit of universalism and humanity that is almost the high-water mark of Old Testament inspiration, and this encourages the reader to look for some deeper meaning in the rest of the book. The story as interpreted by critical methods is that Jonah is the nation of Israel, chosen to be a missionary nation to the heathen. On refusing the task which Divine selection had marked out for her she is thrown into exile, and has been restored for the purpose of carrying out her original mission. This is here symbolised by the whale swallowing Jonah, who on being cast up proceeded on his neglected commission, though still with little love for his work. The imagery is crude and may strike the reader as exceedingly improbable, until his attention is drawn to the fact that the whale or sea-monster plays a great part in Old Testament imagery and is once actually used as a symbol of the Exile. "Nebuchadrezzar the King of Babylon hath devoured me, ... he hath swallowed me up like a dragon, ... he hath cast me out.... I will do judgment upon Bel in Babylon, and I will bring out of his mouth that which he hath swallowed up" (Jer. li. 34, 44). With this interpretation as a clue, the book becomes luminous. It is an apology for the Gentiles who are shown to be capable of repentance; Israel is blamed for her grudging estimate of the heathen, for her refusal to convey to them the light which she enjoyed, and for her fear lest others should share the favour of Jehovah. Perhaps the symbolic character of the book was adopted, because the author knew that if such truths were boldly stated they would never be received by his age; and so he hoped that the truth might enter in through an interesting story of wonder and adventure. It can hardly be claimed that the author has been successful; for the Jews resisted the universalism of the Son of Man and the propagandist methods of the Apostle Paul, while Christendom has been far more concerned in proving that a whale can swallow a man, than in carrying out the command to evangelise those who know not their right hand from their left.

THE WORK OF THE PRIESTS

The following passage (Exod. vii. 14-25) illustrates the attempt to disintegrate the various documents ("J" is indicated by roman type, "E" by _italics_, and "P" by CAPITALS).

"And Yahwe said unto Moses, Pharaoh's heart is stubborn, he refuseth to let the people go. _Get thee unto Pharaoh in the morning; lo, he goeth out unto the water; and thou shalt stand by the river's brink to meet him; and the rod which was turned to a serpent shalt thou take into thine hand._ And thou shalt say unto him, Yahwe, the God of the Hebrews, hath sent me unto thee, saying, Let my people go, that they may serve me in the wilderness: and, behold, hitherto thou hast not hearkened. Thus saith Yahwe, in this thou shalt know that I am Yahwe: behold, I will smite ... _with the rod that is in mine hand upon the waters which are in the river, and they shall be turned to blood_. And the fish that is in the river shall die, and the river shall stink; and the Egyptians shall loathe to drink water from the river. AND YAHWE SAID UNTO MOSES, SAY UNTO AARON, TAKE THY ROD, AND STRETCH OUT THINE HAND OVER THE WATERS OF EGYPT, OVER THEIR RIVERS, OVER THEIR STREAMS, AND OVER THEIR POOLS, AND OVER ALL THEIR PONDS OF WATER, THAT THEY MAY BECOME BLOOD; AND THERE SHALL BE BLOOD THROUGHOUT ALL THE LAND OF EGYPT, BOTH IN VESSELS OF WOOD AND IN VESSELS OF STONE. AND MOSES AND AARON DID SO, AS YAHWE COMMANDED; _and he lifted up the rod, and smote the waters that were in the river; in the sight of Pharaoh, and in the sight of his servants; and all the waters that were in the river were turned to blood_. And the fish that was in the River died; and the river stank, and the Egyptians could not drink water from the river; AND THE BLOOD WAS THROUGHOUT ALL THE LAND OF EGYPT. AND THE MAGICIANS OF EGYPT DID IN LIKE MANNER WITH THEIR ENCHANTMENTS: AND PHARAOH'S HEART WAS HARDENED, AND HE HEARKENED NOT UNTO THEM; AS YAHWE HAD SPOKEN. _And Pharaoh turned and went into his house, neither did he lay even this to heart._ And all the Egyptians digged round about the river for water to drink; for they could not drink of the water of the river. And seven days were fulfilled, after that Yahwe had smitten the river."

Notes:--The account in "J" evidently had nothing about the water being turned into blood. Yahwe himself will smite the river (_Ye' or_; the Nile) so that the fish will die. "The river" probably stood after "smite ..." in "J."

In "E" Moses is commanded to smite with his rod, and the Nile will be turned into blood. In verse 17 _thine_ must have stood in the original and was altered to "mine" when the documents were pieced together.

In "P" Aaron is to take the rod, and now all the rivers of Egypt, and even the water in the houses, is to be turned into blood.

Notice the formal repetition in "P."

Lecture VIII

THE WORK OF THE PRIESTS

We have seen that the Exile produced two important prophetical works. The one is a vision of a restored Jewish state, contemplated under the guise of a Church rather than as a Nation; the work of the priestly Prophet Ezekiel. The other is incorporated in the second half of the prophecies ascribed to Isaiah; the author is unknown, but the work is an attempt to interpret the calamitous history of the Exile in such a fashion that the nation might be led to take as its ideal for the future, the Servant of Jehovah, the bearer of light to the nations of the world. The outlook in these two works is entirely different, yet both seem to have called forth a school which endeavoured to work out their ideals, but the school of Ezekiel obtained a more immediate recognition and exerted the greater influence on the nation. For the first time in Israel's history a prophet is found who is concerned with matters of ritual, the regulation of a priesthood, and the details of ecclesiasticism. Ezekiel endeavoured to secure the reforms demanded by the Prophets, not only by the effect of his own preaching, but by the formation of definite organisations and the establishment of certain customs. The priestly school which followed Ezekiel and developed his conceptions, possessed sufficient prestige to persuade the nation that their scheme was of Divine authority. Their work was carried on during and after the Exile, but with the exception of Ezra, the names of the authors have not been preserved. In the Bible history their work suddenly appears under the name of "the law of Moses" in 444 B.C. The first certain mention of the recognition and observance of this law is found in Nehemiah (viii.), where a memorable scene is described. Ezra the Scribe, "the writer of the words of the commandments of the Lord and of his statutes to Israel" (Ezra vii. 11), has come from Babylon, bringing with him the law of Moses. The people are gathered together on a certain day, and from morning to noon, the law is read in their hearing, with such comments and explanations as seemed necessary. The immediate result of this publication was the discovery that important provisions had been neglected and commands very seriously transgressed, and there followed such grief and alarm among those who listened, that it was difficult for the authorities to persuade the people to abandon their mourning and rejoice in the fact that the law had now been made known to them. On the morrow a further reading took place, when they discovered that on that very day they ought to be keeping a feast of tabernacles. The feast was therefore observed for the appointed time of eight days, and it is expressly noted that this had not been done since the time of Joshua. Other reforms were immediately set in motion; marriage with those not of pure Jewish blood was not only forbidden but, where such had actually been contracted, an immediate dissolution was enforced; a tax of one third of a shekel was levied for the upkeep of the Temple Services, and the law of the Sabbath was rigorously enforced. Now this picture was not written by a contemporary, and critics have found such difficulty in discovering the exact historical facts that considerable doubt has been aroused, not only concerning the historicity of this event, but even concerning the existence of Ezra himself. But it is certain that in the Fifth Century B.C., laws were obeyed and institutions were recognised, of which we have no record, outside the Pentateuch, in the earlier historical books. The question to be answered is: What was that "law of Moses" which Ezra brought to Jerusalem and read to the people? Later Judaism calls the first five books of the Bible "the Law of Moses," and for centuries both Jewish and Christian scholars have identified Ezra's law with these books, have supposed that they existed from the time of Moses downwards, but were entirely neglected by the Jews until this time. Modern research is compelled to dissent altogether from this tradition. Our purpose in this book prevents us from discussing the details of this controversy, but in addition to what has been already said in an earlier lecture, the main results of critical study on the origin of the Law may be outlined.

From the time occupied by Ezra in reading his law it is inferred that it could hardly have been our first five books of the Bible; and since to carry out the laws contained in them would involve endless discussion because of their contradictory character (compare for example the directions for keeping the feast of Tabernacles in Deut. xvi. 13, 15, which commands seven days, with Lev. xxiii. 39, which adds an eighth day for a solemn assembly; compare also the account in 1 Kings viii. 66, with 2 Chron. vii. 8, 10), it is thought that this law of Ezra must have been much smaller than the Pentateuch, and much more homogeneous. The Pentateuch not only contains more than "laws," but even the legal sections bear the marks of such widely different aims and conditions that we are compelled to assume a gradual collection, with continual redaction and codification, in order to account for the various phenomena. The earliest strata may go back to a great antiquity, and the customs themselves must often be primitive Semitic survivals, but the critical contention is that, as a whole, the "Law of Moses" owes its present form to an age later than the Exile, and somewhat later than Ezra himself; for Ezra's code has itself been revised (compare Neh. x. 32, where a third of a shekel is appointed, with Exod. xxx. 13, where it has increased to half a shekel), before it was amalgamated with the Pentateuch in its existing form.

The critical basis for this theory of the gradual formation of the law is found first in the fact that the legislation of the Pentateuch is not homogeneous: it is so contradictory that to carry out the law as it stands would be found impossible. It is claimed that the presence of the various strata can be detected by the numerous repetitions (_e.g._, the commandments exist in three recensions: Exod. xx. 1-17; xxxiv. 17-28; Deut. v. 6-21); by the use of different names for God, by the difference in language and style, and by the change in theological conceptions; and moreover, that these different strata can be roughly assigned to various ages, which can be actually confirmed by the record of their observance in the historical books (compare the provisions made for the Ark in Exod. xxv.-xl.; Num. iii.-iv., with its actual treatment in 1 Sam.).

The different strata of the laws, and the ages to which they may be roughly assigned, are as follows:--The earliest code of laws is said to be that of the "Book of the Covenant" (Exod. xxiv. 7), found in Exod. xx. 20-xxiii. 33. The primitive character of this code can be discerned, by the comparison of its directions for worship with those of later ages. It sanctioned the erection of rude altars at any place where Jehovah had been revealed, whereas in later codes no place except the one chosen spot can be used for worship, and the altar must be of highly specialised construction (compare Exod. xx. 24-26 and Deut. xii. 4-24, with Exod. xxvii. 1-8). Now it is precisely this informal worship, which could be performed by any one and at any place, that appears to have been the custom until the time of the reformation under Josiah; and in his times, and as the cause of his reform, the critics place the Book of Deuteronomy, v.-xxvi.; for it presupposes the teaching of the prophets and is the programme followed by Josiah. Then next follows "the Law of Holiness" (Lev. xvii.-xxvi.); which is either the outcome of Ezekiel's work or is shortly prior to it; anyhow, the connection is close. Then in 444 B.C. appears the code of Ezra, which was afterwards developed and set in a brief narrative describing the historical preparation for the law and its actual deliverance by Moses; this document of history and laws is known for convenience as the Priestly Code, and is denoted by the letter "P." The editorial framework of the completed Hexateuch (the first six books of the Bible), is of the same stamp as the Priests' Code, and the date of its final compilation must not be put very much later than Ezra, since the Samaritan Pentateuch probably goes back to the Fourth Century, from which date it can claim an independent existence. It is this work of the Priests that we are now to examine. "P" is to be found at present scattered throughout the Hexateuch, and embraces nearly the whole of Leviticus, Numbers and a good portion of Exodus; is found in many scattered passages in Genesis and in a small portion of Joshua and Judges, especially, in the latter case, in the closing chapters; there is only a very little in Deuteronomy. Although not the work of one hand, these passages can be detected by their unity of motive, the uniform phraseology, the priestly outlook, and their concern with legal and ritualistic regulations. The style is stereotyped, measured, and prosaic, and is rendered somewhat monotonous by the repetition of stated formulae. The theological ideas are dominated by the thought of the awful holiness of God and the danger that there lies in approaching Him in any other than the ordained way.

What were the sources from which this code drew its material? It is not suggested that the code was simply _invented_ during the Exile. Many of the legal commands concerning uncleanness, leprosy, and marriage are really ancient customs, and only owed their _codification_ to this late age; for they reflect a low stage of culture, and their rites of purification are primitive. Again sacrifice had been performed as far back as Semitic history can be traced, and customs which had persisted were now simply tabulated and their form fixed. Many of the sacrificial rites prescribed in the code still bear the marks of their early origin, especially in the case of the burnt and the peace-offerings, but the law of the sin-offering shows artificial elaboration. Undoubtedly when Solomon's Temple was built a new sacrificial ritual would be developed more in keeping with the splendour of the edifice, and as the Temple increased in prestige, and when under Isaiah's influence it became the one spot at which sacrifice could be performed, the priestly caste would keep the rite in their own hands and perform it with more care; and all this would become the basis for a new ritualistic legislation. The minuteness of the Priestly Code often gives the impression of a record of exact history, but a careful examination of such measurements as are given in the case of the Ark or the Tabernacle do not confirm the historical accuracy; for the Tabernacle cannot be made exactly as described, and if it could be, would neither stand up, nor be suitable for the purpose for which it was intended, nor be able to be transported through the desert. It is simply a tent-like model of the Temple projected into the early history on the theory that the worship which existed in the writer's time was that which had always existed. The artificial conception of the history which "P" follows can of course be seen, if we separate the various strata of the first six books in the Bible, but it can be seen without this difficult and controversial method by comparing the history of Kings with Chronicles: the one written largely before and the other entirely after the legislation of "P" had been accepted. The law of the Day of Atonement is almost entirely late, and originated in the deepened sense of guilt produced during the Exile; neither is there any trace of its observance until that time.

A difficult question has arisen concerning the date of this legislation since the discovery of the Code of Hammurabi. Hammurabi was a Babylonian king who lived somewhere about 2,250 B.C., and who has been identified by some with the Amraphael of Gen. xiv. His code reveals a fairly advanced stage of civilisation and morality existing in Babylon at that time, but its chief interest for us is found in the fact that many of the laws concerning common life, marriage, etc., are not only like the laws of the Bible, but in some cases are verbally similar. This phenomenon demands some theory of contact between the two codes, but no theory has yet been found that explains all the facts. The idea of direct borrowing on either side can hardly be taken seriously, and the correspondence between the two codes hardly requires that; so that the question is narrowed to one of influence. This influence would seem to be most natural in the time of the Exile, were it not that the strictly exclusive spirit then developed by the Jews makes it unthinkable. There remains either the explanation of a common basis for the two codes, traceable to their Semitic origin, or what has received the greater support from scholars, the idea that the influence of Hammurabi's laws on Israel's legislation is to be traced through the former inhabitants of Canaan. To understand how this is possible, we must remember that it is now known that Babylon had predominating influence over Western Palestine before the conquest of Canaan by the Hebrews; that the inhabitants of the land were much more civilised than their conquerors; and that the invaders did not exterminate the inhabitants, but quietly effected a settlement among them and adopted many of their customs.

While on the subject of the influence of Babylon it will be convenient to notice here that this influence is not confined to legal matters, but can be traced in certain legendary elements in the Old Testament. The ideal of the Priests' Code would not tolerate heathen mythology that could be detected as such, to appear in its work, and yet there are definite traces of such mythology to be found in "P"s account of the creation in Gen. i. The discovery of the libraries of Assurbanipal has brought to light records of a mythological cosmogony which, while utterly different in conception and spirit from Genesis, is sufficiently similar to suggest some degree of connection. This Babylonian Epic of creation deals not so much with the remarkably scientific idea of a gradual creation of our earth out of chaotic materials, but with a conflict of gods and monsters which is supposed to have taken place before the creation. In the opening verses of the Bible there is a reference to the partition of the deep, which is here called by the non-Hebrew name _Tehom_, into two parts: the waters above and the waters under the firmament. Now in the Babylonian story the actual creation of the earth is preceded by a mighty struggle between _Marduk_, the sun-god (the Merodach of the Bible) and a great dragon symbolical of the primeval waters, which bears the name _Tiamat_, the Babylonian form of _Tehom_. The influence of this myth is the more certainly to be traced in Genesis, because it appears elsewhere in the Old Testament under the form of a legend of a conflict between Jehovah and Rahab, a mighty dragon; and this legend is generally in some way connected with creation (Job ix. 13; xxvi. 12; Isa. li. 9; Ps. lxxxix. 10). There is also a Babylonian story of the flood which keeps even closer to the Bible narrative, and it may be seen from the Babylonian version that this is more probably another form of the dragon myth than a common memory of a tremendous deluge. A Babylonian seal cylinder in the British Museum bears the picture of a man and woman standing one on each side of a sacred tree, from which they are picking fruit, while a serpent coils around the tree; but no written explanation of this very suggestive picture has been discovered. These mythical stories have come down from primitive Semitic times, but we cannot fail to notice that while their ancestry is undoubtedly common, there is a tremendous difference between the stage reached under the inspiration of the Hebrew genius and the crude Polytheism of the Babylonian stories. Their connection in some way is unmistakable, but still more certain is their different ethical and religious level. The fact of the borrowing does not deny the inspiration; it rather reveals how powerful that inspiration was.

To turn now to a consideration of the work of the Priests. We must doubtless concede to the workers a very lofty motive: it was nothing less than an endeavour to include the whole of the nation's life under the conception that God was dwelling among His people, and that the nation must be holy because He is holy.

But in the working out of this purpose the ideal is neither secured nor maintained. The holiness of God is insisted on with much reiteration, but it is conceived of as a physical rather than a moral attribute. It is really only a conception of the unapproachability of God unless certain purely ritual and physical conditions are observed. For the enforcement of this idea the old custom of sacrifice was elaborated and strictly defined, but strangely enough, without explicit teaching as to its meaning. This is peculiar, and it seems to have remained largely unnoticed, for many Biblical expositors have adopted without inquiry the idea that the sacrifices were substitutionary, piacular, and typical of the sacrifice of Christ. The piacular meaning suggests itself at so many points that it is startling to find that it cannot be borne out by careful examination. The sacrifices are in most instances only efficacious for the forgiveness of unintentional sins, or for the atonement of ritualistic mistakes made in ignorance or through inadvertence. The ceremony of laying the hands of the offerer on the head of the intended victim, suggests that a symbolical transference of guilt is taking place, and yet only in one case is this accompanied by a confession of sins, and there the victim is not slain, but led away for Azazel. The sin-offering involved the death of the animal, but an animal was not absolutely necessary for the purpose, and flour might be substituted; and even where we have the slain animal, the idea that the animal has taken the place of the sinner seems to be excluded by the fact that its flesh is regarded as "most holy." The offerings are said to make atonement, but we are not told how this is affected unless in the passage that states that "it is the blood that maketh atonement, by reason of the life." The word translated "atonement" means simply "a covering," and of course may mean that the blood, which is symbolical of the offered life, either covers the eyes of God from beholding the sin, or covers the sinner. We are left then, either with the deduction that the exact significance of the sacrifices was not mentioned because everyone knew what it was, or that it has not been told because it was too mysterious, or that there was no definite meaning attached to them. Originally sacrifice did not bear a piacular significance, but it would be unsafe to argue from this that no substitutionary value was attached to the Levitical sacrifices by these priestly lawyers; indeed the only safe conclusion seems to be that the priests adopted these sacrifices, which were time-honoured, as the proper ritual for the approach to God, without any definite inquiry as to their meaning. But taking the Levitical system as a whole there seems to underlie it the theory of symbolical, although not piacular substitution. God owns man entirely, and that by right: his time, possessions, flocks, and lands; and demands from him the completest recognition of this ownership. Now in practice, this absolute demand can only be recognised by substitute and proxy; and so we have the recognition of God's claims by the observance of one holy day in seven, by the ransom of the first-born, by the sabbatical and jubilee years, by the tithes, and especially by the sacrifices. His dwelling in the land is symbolised by the respect paid to one symbolical holy place; and the continual service He demands is represented by the daily service carried on by the Levitical caste. But even if this be the intention of the system, it is nowhere so defined, and therefore it is not surprising to find that people soon forgot the symbolical meaning, and treated the symbol as a thing sufficient in itself; with the result, that the service of God came to be restricted to a performance of rites that had lost all significance. One explanation would soon silence any criticism of this scheme that might arise, namely, that God had so ordained that men should worship Him. But deeper still there lay a radical misconception of the very nature of God and of the service He seeks. God was conceived as inimical not so much to man's sin, as to man himself; and this danger was averted by the use of protective rites which needed to be performed with scrupulous care, lest a mistake might bring down on the worshipper immediate and awful destruction, quite irrespective of his moral condition. Doubtless the nation might be impressed by these means with the awful aloofness of God, and there must often have accompanied this some notion of the ethical character that was expressed in this separateness; but the means taken for satisfying this character and demand in the nature of God could never have had any other result than it did, namely, the conception that attention to details of ritual could be a substitute for the much more difficult service of repentance and righteousness. It is possible that we may be under-estimating the real motive of the Priests' work and its actual success in preserving religion under these forms; but the radical evil is clearly exposed when we come to the time of another calamity, that which befel the nation under Antiochus Epiphanes, when no other method of averting the anger of God seems to have been thought of, except that of increasing the rigour of this ritual law and fencing it round with still further restrictions, until it became a burden too heavy to be borne.

Such a régime utterly failed to understand the teaching of Jesus and could only regard His religion as impious and lacking in all that was essential, reverential, or good, and it was "the Law" which put Jesus to death. It is much to be deplored that the Sacrifice of Christ has in turn been explained to the conscience touched to penitence and tenderness by the story of the Cross, rather by the analogy of the Old Testament sacrifices than by its complete superiority to them as based upon a different and ethical order; for the rags and tatters of the Levitical system still impede the religious life; allowing men to think that God is content with substitutes, can be placated with blood, and is more concerned with abstract regulations than with moral change. And so there still hang about religion the same inconsistencies, the same slaughter of the prophets, the same blindness to the eternal demands of personal and social righteousness. The motive of the work of the Priests may have been to enforce the prophetic repentance, but to gain this end they compromised with unspiritual ritual, and on that compromise Christ was, and is still crucified.

THE RELIGION OF THE PSALMISTS

Titles of the Psalms, descriptive of their contents:--

(1) Song, Heb. _Shirah._ A lyrical poem for singing. Probably the earliest title, which in some instances may have belonged to the original composition.

(2) _Michtam_, perhaps, "a golden piece." The title indicates their artistic form and choice contents. They were probably all taken from a previous collection.

(3) _Maschil_, a meditative poem, from a collection made perhaps in the late Persian period.

(4) Psalm, Heb. _Mizmor_. The name given to a collection used for public worship, probably in the early Greek period.

(5) _Shiggaion_, (Ps. vii.; also in plural, Hab. iii. 1.) Some take this to mean a wild, passionate composition, but this Psalm hardly bears that character. Perhaps we may expect a textual corruption from _Neginah_: a song accompanied with musical instruments.

(6) A song of Ascents: used in the processions to the Temple.

(7) A prayer.

On the question of the Davidic authorship of the Psalms, the following passages should be examined; they would appear to be in hopeless disagreement with the life of David as depicted in the historical books. Ps. v. 8-10; vi. 7, f.; xii. 1-4; xvii. 9-14; xxii.; xxvii. 10, 12; xxxv. 11-21; xli. 5-9; liv. 2-6; lxii. 3, f. The Psalms which are ascribed to some definite occasion in David's life are not on the whole any more suitable to the situation, although there is generally some single phrase which probably gave rise to this identification.

The great commentator Ewald, on literary grounds ascribed the following Psalms to David because of their originality and dignified spirit: Ps. iii.; iv.; vii.; viii.; xi.; xv.; xviii.; xix. 1-6; xxiv. 1-6; xxiv. 7-10; xxix.; xxxii.; lx. 6-9; lxviii. 13-18; ci.; cxliv. 12-14.

Briggs would not go so far as to indicate Davidic Psalms, but would put as far back as the Early Monarchy, Ps. vii., xiii., xviii., xxiii., xxiv. b, lx. a, and cx.

Lecture IX

THE RELIGION OF THE PSALMISTS

The principles of Biblical criticism have often been traced to a vigorous application of the theory of evolution to the growth of religious ideas. Such an application, if without the support of facts, would discredit all critical results; but as a matter of fact, the critical readjustment of the Old Testament does not give a perfect progression in religious development. Indeed, it leaves us with a perplexing story of decline from high attainment. The Law follows the Prophets, and no theory can recognise the Law as an advance upon prophetic teaching. The national rejection of the Prophets is the central tragedy of Hebrew history and prepares us for the national rejection of Jesus. Yet between the Prophets and the religion of the Gospels we are able to trace an almost continuous link in the religion of the Psalmists. This connection is somewhat obscured by the early date assigned to the Psalms by uncritical tradition, by the heterogeneous character of the collection, and by its continual redaction in the interest of the purpose to which they were adapted. In adopting this collection of religious poems for the purpose of public praise, it is more than likely that additions were made, in order that they might more fitly express the need of the time, while reverence for the writings, by the time at least, of the final edition of the work, operated to preserve the original; as may be seen, for instance, in the addition made to the fifty-first Psalm (ver. 18, 19), which in its original form condemns the very worship in which it was used. Moreover the collection is as much a prayer-book as a hymn-book, for many of the Psalms are really prayers, and five of them are actually so entitled. The book was certainly used in the Temple services, but on the whole it must have seemed more fitted for the non-sacrificial and non-ceremonial worship of the synagogue, or for the private devotions of pious men and women. However and wherever used, it must have nourished a deep personal religion and kept alive hopes to which Christianity afterwards appealed.

No other single book of the Old Testament has had such an influence on Christian piety and worship. From ancient times to the present day the Psalms have been chanted, and in Churches of widely differing ritual they have been considered the only fit vehicle for Christian praise.

Nothing more clearly demonstrates their proximity to the Christian view of things, although the modern spirit in Christendom is finding it increasingly difficult to express itself in the language of all the Psalms, on account of their imprecatory wishes. Perhaps still more, the predominant tone of the book, which is one of crying for deliverance from overwhelming enemies and oppression, hardly suits the safety of our times, or meets the demand for a joyful religious spirit. Many of the Psalms become real only in times of severe spiritual trial, and where there exists a deep sense of contrition; still better do they express the emotions which arise in times of national calamity or religious persecution; and most of all when men are constrained to take arms in the cause of religion and righteousness. They have never sounded so fitting as on the lips of the Reformers, Cromwell's Ironsides, or the Scottish Covenanters. And yet their great breadth of appeal, their touching of every possible note in religious experience--penitence and joy, questioning and trust, longing and satisfaction, defeat and victory,--their majestic literary form, and their poetic inspiration will preserve them for ever as sublime utterances of universal religion. But our work is not to appraise their eternal value, but to estimate their significance, influence, and position in the development of Old Testament religion; and to do this we must endeavour to trace the origin and compilation of the Psalter.

The criticism of the Psalter is faced by a peculiarly difficult and complex problem, arising from the lack of historic connection, the possible obliteration by editorial redaction, and the difficulty of interpreting with certainty even those data which the text presents, and it has by no means yet reached settled conclusions; only general and tentative results can be noted here. That, however, the book is the result of a gradual process, may be seen from the presence of doublets (liii. = xiv.; lxx. = xl. 13-17; cviii. = lvii. 7-11 + lx. 5-12), and from the subscription at the end of Book II., which displays ignorance of the fact that further Psalms, ascribed to David follow. It will be more convenient to start from the final position and work backward; and that final position is undoubtedly this, that the Book of Psalms as it stands in our Bible is the hymn-book of the restored Second Temple. It is a book prepared for musical accompaniment; this may be seen from the titles still preserved at the head of many of the Psalms. These titles are of three kinds: they describe the nature of the poetic composition; they give the names of the authors and sometimes the circumstances in which they were composed; and the third kind are most probably to be explained as instructions for musical setting. These last-named titles are in most cases very obscure; the Revised Version has simply transliterated the Hebrew words. On the assumption that these are musical terms, we have three classes of them in the Psalms. One class apparently gives directions for the tune to which the Psalm is to be sung, and this tune is named, like some modern hymn tunes, after the words with which the tune had been originally or customarily associated; these appear to have been popular songs, not necessarily of an entirely religious character (Ps. lvi., R.V. title: "set to Jonath elem rehokim"; mar. translates: "The silent dove of them that are afar off"; Ps. lvii., lviii.: "set to Al tashheth," which means: "Do not destroy." In the Septuagint the setting of Ps. lxx. has been altered to: "Save me, O Lord"). Other titles seem to direct the voice to be used in singing, as either falsetto or bass (Ps. xlvi., "set to Alamoth"; probably maiden-like voices, and as women took no part in the service of the choirs, this must refer either to tenor, or male falsetto; Ps. vi., xii., "set to the Sheminith." R.V. mar., "the eighth." This is probably the octave or bass voice). Two references are to be found to the instrumental accompaniment to be used, as either stringed or wind instruments (Ps. iv., vi., etc., "on stringed instruments"; Ps. v., "with the Nehiloth," mar., "wind instruments"). The much discussed meaning of _Selah_ is most probably to be sought in a musical direction. The word means: "lift up." The Septuagint translates, "interlude," but many other versions (Version of Aquila, Syriac Peshitto, Jerome and the Targum) translate, "for ever." This duplicate translation suggests the very possible clue that at the places where _Selah_ appears, the Psalm might be ended, if desired, and the "for ever," or the doxology, which was usually sung at the end of the Psalm and which is found at the end of each book, could be taken there. As completed, the Psalter is therefore a book with directions for a fully organised and choral worship, and we have to seek for a time when such a worship was in existence. The difficulty is that these musical directions are somewhat rare and are not found in the later books, but only in connection with those Psalms entitled, "for the Director." As the instruments mentioned are only of the simplest kind and not of the varied character used in the ornate worship of the Temple (cxlix. 3; cl. 3-5), and as by the time the Greek translation was made (150 B.C.), their significance was forgotten, we have to put the final edition long after the founding of synagogue worship, in which the Director's Psalm Book was first used, and at some period when there had been a complete change in musical practice. This demands a time when Hellenistic culture had moulded even the Temple worship. (The Jews were under Greek influence and rule from B.C. 333 to B.C. 63.) The time from which a full choral service was in use in the Temple is to be carried back, according to the Chronicler, to the time of Solomon and David, but a comparison with the earlier history contained in the Books of the Kings does not confirm this. The Chronicler, who from his interest in these matters seems to have been a member of one of the Levite choirs, really gives us the customs current in his times, and infers that they went back unchanged to the time of the building of the first Temple and to the preparatory work of David. These considerations, together with the admitted lateness of many of the Psalms, some of them undoubtedly belonging to the times of the Maccabæan wars, bring us down to that late age and perhaps more precisely to the time of the rededicated Temple (165 B.C.), and demand that the final edition of the Psalter is to be placed somewhere about 150 B.C.

We might expect to find traces of the growth of the Psalter in the division into five books (at xli., lxxii., cvi., cl., see R. V.), but there seems no real division necessary between Books IV. and V. and the five-fold division may be due to the desire to imitate the divisions of the Law; the other divisions however contain more hopeful suggestions. The first book, for instance, is almost entirely ascribed to David (Ps. i. is an introduction to the whole book, composed for the final edition, and Ps. ii. may have been also placed in front as part of the introduction. Ps. xxxiii., which is very late, may have been added as a kind of doxology to Ps. xxxii. The rest are ascribed to David). The second book is largely Davidic and it concludes with the statement: "the prayers of David the son of Jesse are ended." In spite of this notice Psalms are found ascribed to David in the books that follow, so that the remark must have been found appended to a collection that the final editor took over; it cannot be due to his own hand. Further evidence of compilation is to be found in the strange occurrence of the different names for God: Elohim and Jehovah. In the first book the name of Jehovah preponderates. In Book II. the name Elohim is found most frequently. Then in Book III. Psalms lxxiii.-lxxxiii. use Elohim only, and lxxxiv.-lxxxix. Jehovah mainly; and in practically the whole of Books IV. and V. Jehovah is almost solely used, The reason for this phenomenon must be sought in editorial redaction, for in the duplicate Psalms, xiv. and liii., xl. 13-17 and lxx., Jehovah is found in the first recension and Elohim in the second. The Elohistic character of lxxiii.-lxxxiii. may be due to the original compiler since they are all ascribed to Asaph and otherwise bear marks of common production. The Elohistic redaction may have been made in a period when the name Jehovah sounded tribal and almost heathenish; but a similar test leads to the conclusion that the first collection enjoyed by this time a liturgical familiarity, which did not permit of alteration. The reversion to the name of Jehovah in Books IV. and V. might be explained by the fact that in later times the name was written but never pronounced. On the line of these suggestions we should expect to find that Book I. contained the earliest Psalms and Books IV. and V. the latest; this is roughly correct, if we allow for the possibility of minor insertions being made for various purposes in the last edition. In Book V. there is a group of Psalms (civ.-cvi., cxi.-cxiii., cxv.-cxvii., cxxxv., cxlvi.-cl.), which are distinguished by either commencing or ending with "Hallelujah," and are known as the "Hallels." From their contents, it may be observed that they are suitable for use at the Great Festivals, and it is known that they were, and are still so used by the Jews. They imply a highly organised musical service (Ps. cl.), they require a time when the festivals were regularly observed and when the worship of the Temple could be carried on without fear. Such conditions are to be found together only after the Exile, and then only during the period of Greek rule; and to this late period the composition of these Psalms is to be referred. An even later date is demanded for some Psalms that are said to reflect the rebellion against the Hellenizing movement enforced by Antiochus Epiphanes, in which the Maccabees played such a heroic part. This date is confirmed by the references to: the "assembly of the saints" (Ps. cxlix. 1, Heb. _hasidim_, the purist party formed in that time); the cruel persecution for religious opinions (Ps. xliv. 17-22; lxxix. 2; lxxxiii. 3, 4); the defiling of the Temple, the burning of the synagogues, and the silence of the Prophetic voice (Ps. lxxiv. 7-9; lxxix. 1). Other Maccabæan Psalms are said to be: cx., where there is a reference to some priest who is not in the legitimate succession, which entirely describes the Priest-Kings of the Maccabæan dynasty (other scholars would put this Psalm very early; on the other hand there are alleged traces of an acrostic that would spell Simon, the first of the Maccabæan Priest-Kings); cxv. cxviii., which celebrate successful wars in which the leaders have been the house of Aaron, to which house the Maccabees of course belonged. This is the latest date that is demanded for any of the Psalms, and in the present condition of criticism we can only say that between this and some earlier period the book is to be placed. It must now be our task to discover the earliest date that any of the Psalms demand. We have seen that Book I. seems to be the earliest collection, and tradition assumes that this was the work of David and was the Psalm Book used in the First Temple. To discuss this point it is necessary to enquire into the reliability of the titles that ascribe the Psalms to definite authors. These titles give: one each to Moses, Ethan, and Heman; two to Solomon; eleven to the Sons of Korah; twelve to Asaph; and seventy-three to David (it is doubtful whether Jeduthun is a person; if so he is probably the same as Ethan: Ps. xxxix., lxii., lxxvii., titles; cp. 1 Chron. vi. 44 with 1 Chron. ix. 16). Now it should be noticed that none of the authors are later than Solomon (Ethan, 1 Kings iv. 31, 1 Chron. vi. 44; Heman, 1 Kings iv. 31, 1 Chron. vi. 33, xv. 17, 19, xxv. 5; Asaph, 1 Chron. vi. 39, xxv. 1f, Neh. xii. 46; in Ezra ii. 41, Neh. vii. 44, Asaph seems to mean a guild of singers rather than an individual). If any of the Psalms ascribed to authors might be expected to yield confirmation by internal evidence, it would be Ps. xc.; but there is nothing in its language or thought that points to extreme antiquity. There is also nothing in the Psalms themselves that confirms the authorship of the contemporaries of Solomon, Ethan and Heman. The title of Ps. cxxvii., "of Solomon," is missing in the Septuagint and is evidently a late gloss, and the title of Ps. lxxii. is translated in the Septuagint: "a psalm _for_ Solomon," which certainly describes the contents better. The Psalms ascribed to the Sons of Korah (xlii.-xlix., lxxxiv., lxxxv., lxxxvii., lxxxviii.; 2 Chron. xx. 19, 1 Chron. xxvi. 19; but 1 Chron.