I

.Hi mill Hi
lllill 11 II
Si II

11
| 1 H 1-1111
J Ii
iiiiij miiiii
111
i ft! i'j ?:-hM-
' Illi I
111
01

"l.gn Bonks
for the foitnding ef a C I , "otony"

>Y^LIE«¥MII¥EI&SHWo

- <?-

Gift of

With the Compliments of
The Theological Seminary of the Presbyterian
Church in the United States of America

Kindly acknowledge receipt to
Rev. HAROLD McA. ROBINSON
Princeton, N. J.

BIBLICAL AND THEOLOGICAL
STUDIES

BIBLICAL AND THEOLOGICAL
STUDIES

BIBLICAL AND THEOLOGICAL
STUDIES

BY

THE MEMBERS OF THE FACULTY OF
PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY

PUBLISHED IN COMMEMORATION
OF THE ONE HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY
OF THE FOUNDING OF THE SEMINARY

NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
MCMXII

Copyright by the
Trustees of the Theological Seminary
of the Presbyterian Church at
Princeton, New Jersey, 1912.

THE FIRST SESSION OF PRINCETON THEO
LOGICAL SEMINARY COMMENCED ON THE
TWELFTH DAY OF AUGUST l8l2. ON THE
SEVENTH DAY OF MAY 1912, ITS ONE-HUN
DREDTH SESSION CLOSES.
THIS VOLUME OF ESSAYS HAS BEEN PRE
PARED BY THE MEMBERS OF THE FACULTY
OF THE SEMINARY IN COMMEMORATION OF
THE COMPLETION OF THE SEMINARY'S
FIRST CENTURY OF SERVICE TO THE CHURCH.

CONTENTS

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA  i
Francis Landey Patton
ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD  35
Benjamin Breckinridge Warfield
THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL  91
John D. Davis
JONATHAN EDWARDS; A STUDY  109
John De Witt
THE SUPERNATURAL  137
William Brenton Greene, Jr.
THE ESCHATOLOGICAL ASPECT OF THE PAULINE CON
CEPTION OF THE SPIRIT  209
Geerhardus Vos
THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL  261
Robert Dick Wilson
THE PLACE OF THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES OF
JESUS  307
William Park Armstrong
MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS  357
Charles Rosenbury Erdman

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE  393
Frederick Willtam Loetscher
SIN AND GRACE IN THE BIBLICAL NARRATIVES RE
HEARSED IN THE KORAN  423
James Oscar Boyd
THE FINALITY OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION  447
Caspar Wistar Hodge, Jr.
THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD OF HERMAS. 492
Kerr Duncan Macmillan
JESUS AND PAUL  545
John Gresham Machen
THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH, GOD OF ISRAEL  579
Oswald Thompson Allis

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
Francis Landey Patton

The practical aim of the Theological Seminary does not justify disparage
ment of thorough theological education. Outline of the history of
theological encyclopaedia. Sources of Theology : Reason, Scrip
ture, the Church.
Thesis: I. Rational Theology : Science of Religion, Philosophy of Re
ligion.
2. Scriptural Theology : the Higher Criticism, the Lower Criti
cism, Exegesis, Biblical Theology.
3. Ecclesiastical Theology : History of the Church, Organization
of the Church, Work and Worship of the Church.
Antithesis: The content of Christian Theology is antithetically related
to the opposing views of those within and those without the
pale of Christian faith. Hence the place in Theological Ency
clopaedia for Polemic Theology and Apologetic Theology.
Synthesis: Systematic Theology is the synthesis of all the foregoing
theological disciplines : Christian Ethics, Dogmatics.

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
A Theological Seminary is, first of all, a school for the
training of men to preach the Gospel. The claims of theologi
cal learning should never supersede or relegate to a subordi
nate position the practical aims which were contemplated by
those who founded this Seminary; and if we magnify these
claims, it is only because we believe that the minister who
would most effectively discharge the duties of his high calling
is he who, other things being equal, is best equipped in his
knowledge of the Disciplines that enter into the theological
curriculum. It is not necessary now to call attention to those
elementary studies which underlie a minister's theological ed
ucation. For we have made a complete separation between the
disciplinary studies which enter into what is called a liberal
education, and the more distinctively technical and specialized
studies which constitute the curriculum of the professional
school. Every student of the theological seminary is supposed
to have graduated in Arts, or to have had an education equiva
lent to that required for the Bachelor of Arts degree. With
that maturity of mind which such an education betokens, and
with that seriousness of purpose which may be fairly presup
posed on the part of men who have all attained their majority,
and who besides are looking forward to a professional career
in the sacred calling of the ministry, as conditions precedent
of the successful prosecution of theological study, it should
not be difficult for us to secure from those who enter the Semi
nary an intelligent interest in the problem of the theological
curriculum, and a hearty cooperation with us in carrying it out
in the details of class-room instruction.
I venture to hope, therefore, that however dry and un
interesting much that I have to say may be to many, I
may have the interested attention of my brethren in the

4 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
ministry and of theological students. The practical value
of much that is taught in a theological seminary is some
times challenged, I doubt not, even by very good students;
and their skepticism on this head arises generally out of
the fact, so I at least believe, that they do not see the re
lations which the several parts of theological instruction sus
tain to each other. Have these various additions to the cur
riculum been accidental accretions, or do they maintain an
organic relation to each other? Are chairs of theology to
be multiplied indefinitely in obedience to the varying de
mands of the times, or as increased endowments make it
possible for us to increase the professorial staff,' or is there
a logical limit to this sort of expansion, which can be in
dicated and rationally defended? It may seem to some that
what I say may serve, in a measure at least, as an answer
to these questions. My theme embraces the entire circle
of theological learning. But I have not set myself so am
bitious a task as these words may lead you to suppose; for I
desire only to ask your attention to some thoughts of mine on
what is technically known as Theological Encyclopaedia.
This word " encyclopaedia " was probably first used by Galen.
As denoting the circle of the sciences it was used by Martinius,
1606. In the popular sense familiar to us all it was used by
Alsted, 1620, and as indicating the totality of materials ger
mane to a special science it was used in the eighteenth century
by several writers, and applied to Jurisprudence by Putter, to
Medicine by Boerhaave, and to Theology by Mursinna.
Theological Encyclopaedia undertakes to classify and reduce
to system the different Disciplines or departments of theologi
cal science. It seeks to show the organic relations between
these Disciplines, and it may even go so far as to lay down
the methods that should be followed, and to state and compare
the methods that have been followed in the different Disci
plines. It would be interesting to trace the history of Theological
Encyclopaedia from its crude beginnings in Chrysostom's six
books De Sacerdotio in the fourth century, in the advice of
Cassiodorus to the monks of Vivarium in the sixth century,

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 5
and later in the Institutio clericorum of Rabanus Maurus and
the Didascalia of Hugo of St. Victor, down to the days of
Scholasticism when, by the union of theology and philosophy,
as Rabiger says, theology became a learned Discipline with
the primacy, we may add, vested in philosophy. Such a his
tory would tell the story of the subsequent protest against
over-intellectualism in theology made by Roger Bacon and
then by Erasmus, the modifying influence of Pietism after the
Reformation as represented in such a work as the Isagoge
of Buddaeus, and then the waning interest in theological study
which led men like Bertholdt, Planck, Thym and Tittmann
(1796, 1798, 181 3) to write their Theological Encyclopaedias
as manuals for those entering upon the study of theology and
for the purpose of awakening a new interest in it. There is
nothing in these systems of encyclopaedia that need claim our
attention, and I venture to say that none of us would think of
adopting the divisions of theological science set forth in these
manuals. The next writer worthy of notice is the Reformed
theologian of Holland, Clarisse, who divides theology ac
cording to the familiar and simple plan into four parts — exe-
getica, historica, systematica and pastorcdis. This also is the
division adopted by Hagenbach, one of the later encyclopae
dists, and is the one most generally accepted among theologians
to-day. But in Schleiermacher we have an illustration of the way in
which one's fundamental conception of theology will inevitably
determine his distribution of theological material. All the
ology is divided, according to him, into three parts — Philo
sophical, Historical and Practical. Under the head of Histori
cal Theology he includes Dogmatics and Exegetics. From
the point of view which makes the Bible the rule of faith, it is,
of course, an error to put Dogmatic Theology under the his
torical rubric. But from Schleiermacher's point of view it was
most natural to do it. For we have only to conceive of the
r Church as an organism possessed of a corporate life and un
divided corporate consciousness, and it will at once appear
that in the Bible you have the record of the religious con
sciousness of the Church for a certain period, and that in

6 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
Church History you have the record of the religious life of the
Christian society through the subsequent centuries. Now part
of that religious life or thought takes the form of dogma.
Dogmatic Theology, therefore, is not the systematic exhibition
of the truths of Scripture, but is rather a crystallization of the
religious consciousness in the form of religious belief, and may
vary in different periods. Dogmatic Theology is thus a part of
history. The affinity of this view promulgated by Schleier-
macher with that of the later Roman Catholic doctrine of de
velopment, and also the more recent Protestant doctrine of the
Christian consciousness, is apparent. It is not difficult to see,
moreover, how Schleiermacher has furnished the philosophy
which enables Roman Catholic theologians to give a systemat
ic and philosophic explication of their dogmatic system; and
it is not surprising, therefore, to find that in the hands of
Dobmeyer and Staudenmaier Schleiermacher's principle be
comes the basis of a Roman Catholic encyclopaedia.
The serious objection to Schleiermacher's encyclopaedia is
that it proceeds upon a basis that antagonizes the Protestant
principle that the Bible is the rule of faith and practice. Other
objections may be urged against the mode of distributing the
theological Disciplines in the encyclopaedias of Dantz, Pelt,
Lange, Tholuck, Hagenbach and Kuyper.
Take Hagenbach's for example. The four parts of theol
ogy according to him, are Historical, Exegetical, Systematic
and Practical. But what is Historical Theology? And if the
development of doctrine in the post-Biblical period is put down
under Historical Theology, why is the development of doc
trine within the Biblical period cut off from the domain of
Historical Theology and erected into a separate department
called Exegetical Theology? And why is Practical Theolo
gy not logically a part of Christian Ethics, except that the
practical duties enjoined in it pertain not so much to the pri
vate Christian as to the Church in its organic life, or to the
individual in his official relations to the Church? These are
only illustrations of the difficulties we meet in attempting a
logical distribution of the Theological Disciplines. Apolo
getics again — to take another illustration — is a subject that

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 7
the encyclopaedists have difficulty with; some treating it as
belonging to the Prolegomena of Theology, and others as
part of Systematic Theology. But it is much easier to see
defects than to remedy them, and it is quite likely that the
scheme which I propose will reveal weaknesses to the eyes
of others which I do not see.
In organizing the Theological Disciplines I proceed upon
this postulate: that man knows God through his reason, that
God has superadded to the light of nature the Revelation of
himself in the Bible, and that this enlarged and corrected
knowledge is embodied in the Church.
The materials for all our theological knowledge are to be
found, therefore, in these three sources : the Reason, the Bible,
the Church. We shall accordingly have Rational Theology,
Scriptural Theology and Ecclesiastical Theology. Assuming
now that our point of view is that of the Reformed Theology,
it is obvious that the body of belief involved in these Disci
plines just mentioned stands antithetically related to opposing
views, and that it will be necessary to carry on a systematic.
defense of that theology, first, against those who assail our
Reformed position from within the Church, and, secondly,
against those who assail Christianity from without. Ac
cordingly we shall have Polemic Theology and Apologetic
Theology. And yet again the need will be felt of gathering into one
compact system the results of all these Disciplines in a body of
divinity which will represent the sum total of theological in
quiry. This will be Systematic Theology. I do not claim
any minute acquaintance with the Hegelian philosophy, and I
do not profess any great regard for it; but it is evident that
in the scheme which I propose the dominant words are those
which have such large place in Hegelian literature — Thesis,
Antithesis and Synthesis.

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA

Thesis.
Man derives some knowledge of God through his reason.
This I know is disputed, and the Ritschlians are particularly
fond of disparaging Natural Theology. But apart from the
question of the possibility of a Natural Theology, the fact re
mains that the religious phenomena of the world call for con
sideration. We cannot very well avoid, therefore, giving a
place in our Theological Encyclopaedia to Rational or Philo
sophical Theology.
I. Rational Theology. — Under this head I should include
the Science of Religion and the Philosophy of Religion.
It is a matter of very considerable importance to study the
various religions of the world and to systematize the knowl
edge thus obtained in regard to the beliefs men have actually
entertained regarding God. I hardly think it necessary to go,
as Ebrard does, into the history of religions simply for the
little apologetic material to be derived from it, and I would
not make comparative religion therefore a branch of Apolo
getics. We shall learn many things from the Science of Re
ligion : we shall learn the solidarity of religious life through
out the world, and that will quicken our sympathies with others
of our kind; we shall be made cognizant of the common ele
ments held in solution by all religions, and shall know the
deep foundation already laid on which the superstructure of
the Gospel can be built ; we shall see the insufficiency of heath
en religions, and in the contrast between them and Christianity
find an argument for the exclusive character of Christianity;
and we shall be able to account for the analogies between
Christianity and other religions without resorting to the hy
pothesis that our religion has been a wholesale plagiarism
from the start. Still our object should be to find out what men
have actually believed regarding God as the result of the light
of nature. Our inquiries under this broad statement of aim
may be made as detailed and independent as we choose, and

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 9
should not be conditioned by the practical use in Missions or
Apologetics which we may wish to make of our results.
Then, again, we have the old subject of Natural Theology,
and more particularly of Theism, which, of course, belongs to
the department of Philosophical Theology. With those who
in our day would make our theology more distinctively Chris
tian by making it appear that our only knowledge of God
comes to us through Christ, I have no sympathy. For it seems
to me that Christ can teach Theism to an Atheist to-day only
by an inferential passage from the phenomena of his earthly
life to belief in the Divine existence. But if the phenomena
of the universe are powerless to produce this result, it is vain
to suppose that the phenomena of a single human life can
produce it. It is a disservice to revealed religion to disparage
Natural Theology in the hope of thereby exalting Christ.
Natural Theology is the basis of Revealed Theology, and the
true order of thought is found in the Saviour's words : " Ye
believe in God : believe also in me." But be the didactic scope
of Natural Theology more or less, it is a fact that the phe
nomena of religious experience are receiving a great deal of
attention at the hands of philosophers, and Christian theolog
ians cannot afford to ignore the work of the psychologists
and metaphysicians in this field. We are having our religious
life interpreted for us in the terms of empirical psychology.
We are having our Christian doctrine explained according to
the Hegelian metaphysics. Religion is being looked upon as
a pathological condition, or as a mystical emotionalism
that needs nothing for its content beyond a spirit of submis
sion to the inevitable.
How the profound problems of metaphysics bear upon the
philosophy of religion we can see in the Gifford lectures of
Ward and Royce. How the distinctive features of Christian
ity disappear under the touch of the Hegelian dialectic we
can see in the writings of the Cairds. We may be thankful,
perhaps, that something of supernaturalism is saved from the
wreck when we read the brilliant pages of James's Varieties
of Religious Experience ; but then how little it is ! And when
in despair of a rational basis for religious belief we are left by

IO THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
Hoffding and Mallock to console ourselves with value-judg
ments, we are tempted to ask: Has it come to this? And
does our philosophy of religion say for its last word that we
keep our religious beliefs simply because we cannot and will
not give them up? The Christian theologian must come into
this field as a defender of the faith. He must strengthen the
outposts if he would save the citadel.
But I go farther than this. I believe that there is need
just now of a philosophy of the Christian religion which will
work on the basis of contemporary philosophy and the apolo
getic minimum, and give us such a synthesis of natural
and revealed religion as shall satisfy the intellectual needs of
those who turn away from the pages of Starbuck and Caird,
on the one hand, and who are not ready to accept a complete
Systematic Theology, on the other, but are nevertheless crav
ing for a rationale of Christianity.
2. Scriptural Theology. — This department, commonly
called Exegetical Theology, includes all those studies which
terminate directly upon the Bible. Among these we have the
studies ancillary to the study of the Scriptures, such as
Archaeology, Biblical Geography and, of course, the original
languages of the Scripture. The encyclopaedists have a dis
heartening way of writing on this subject, for they not only
tell us to read Greek and Hebrew, but they would have us un
derstand that in order to know Hebrew one must know the
cognate languages, and we begin to think of the Aramaic,
Syriac, Arabic and Assyrian. Hagenbach's Encyclopaedia is
pretty dry reading, but our heart warms toward it when, after
reading dreary pages of what the author calls Exegetische
Hiilfswissenschaften, he condescendingly tells us that a com
prehensive knowledge of all the Semitic languages cannot be
demanded of every Christian theologian. And it was very
kind in him to put in a footnote the following from Luther,
which we lay aside for our comfort along with other choice
bits of cheap erudition : " One is not a truly wise Christian
quia Grcecus sit et Hebrceus, — because he is a Greek or He
brew scholar — quando beatus Hieronymus quinque Unguis
monoglosson Augustinum non adcequavit, — since Jerome of

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA n
"blessed memory, with all his learning, could not come within
gunshot of the monoglot Augustine." It is wonderful indeed
what an amount of good thinking one may do in one lan
guage !
But beside these ancillary studies there is the vexed ques
tion of the Canon, which may be regarded perhaps as belong
ing to the Prolegomena of Scriptural Study. Coming, then,
more closely to the study of the Bible we have —
(i) The Higher Criticism. Were there no questions re
garding the date and authorship of the books of the Bible
which affect historical results, most of the material of this
department might be handed over to the department of his
tory ; or if results were considered without placing the empha
sis upon the critical investigations which precede them, the
subject might still be considered as historical. But it is usual
to rubricise this department under the head of criticism; and
however rubricised there is no escape from the necessity
of entering upon the work of the Higher Criticism. A
Church may say that for a minister to reach certain conclu
sions in his critical exegesis is to put in jeopardy his ministerial
standing; but a Church which should forbid inquiry would
stultify herself. This business of the Higher Criticism on
its ecclesiastical side does not seem to be so difficult after all.
We do not believe in an infallible Church ; and we cannot very
well assume the infallibility of the Bible in order to prove
its infallibility. We are therefore, in a sense in the
hands of the specialists. I do not see how it can be helped.
If our attorney is not managing our case right, my advice is
to dismiss him and get another. But the advice of many
seems to be : let the case go by default : the attorneys are a
bad lot.
Then we have (2) the Lower Criticism, or that which is
concerned with the task of securing a correct text. The
theological student needs no explanation of the meaning of
this Discipline, but if the intelligent layman wishes to know
what is involved in inquiries under this head, let him read the
admirable treatise on the Textual Criticism of the New Testa
ment by my friend and colleague, Dr. Warfield. Suffice it to

12 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
say that this is the sphere pf the labors of such men as
Tregelles and Tischendorf and Drs. Westcott and Hort.
Then we have (3) Exegesis : Interpretation. And it is here
that Calvin and Hodge and Addison Alexander and Eadie
and Alford and Ellicott and Lightfoot and Meyer have made
the world of Christian students their debtors. It is to be
regretted that this department of theology is receiving less
attention than it once did, for it is the minister who feeds
his mind and heart by close contact with the mind of God
as revealed in the very words of Scripture whose ministry
will be rich in spiritual power. Time was when the intellect
ual life of scholarly ministers centred in exegetical studies.
Time was when every religious controversy was fought out
on exegetical grounds. But ministers have shared in the
intellectual unrest of the day. Doubt in regard to the inspira
tion of the Scriptures and the convergence of literary criticism
and the evolutionary philosophy upon the sacred books has
tended to paralyze all theological effort or has transferred it
to another locus.
And finally we have (4) Biblical Theology. I sympathize
with Rabiger in the regret that this designation has been given
to this department. It would have been better if the term
could have been kept to indicate (and Pelt so uses it in his
Encyclopaedia) all the studies that terminate on the Bible.
My friend and colleague, Dr. Vos, following Nosgen, makes
the happy suggestion that this department be called the His
tory of Revelation. But the term has a pretty fixed meaning
and is generally well understood, though now and then we
find a man who still gives vent to his dislike of Dogmatic
Theology by professing great devotion to Biblical Theology,
as though the latter were a protest against the former, and
were a little more loyal to the authority of the Bible. It is
true that Biblical Theology takes little or no account of eccle
siastical controversies and is silent about the decisions of
Councils. Still it must be remembered that Biblical Theology
does not consist in grouping the teaching of the Scriptures
under certain loci communes, such as sin and redemption.
That would be a Biblical Dogmatic. The Biblical Theologian

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA

13

seeks to trace the development of doctrine as revealed truth.
His subject is the crowning Discipline of Exegesis, but it is
an historical Discipline too. It is the task of the Dogmatic
Theologian to exhibit the logical unfolding of the Covenant
of Grace, but it is the task of the Biblical Theologian to ex
hibit its chronological unfolding.
In that fine fragment on the History of Redemption, by the
great theologian in connection with whose bicentenary cel
ebrated a few years ago in this Seminary, there was deliv
ered an address by Dr. DeWitt which the readers of this
volume will have the pleasure of reading, we have the true
conception of this department; and I think I do not err in
saying that, at least so far as we in America are concerned,
Jonathan Edwards is the father of Biblical Theology. I
do not think that Biblical Theology can ever supersede Sys
tematic Theology, but it is a most important part of theo
logical learning; and besides serving to systematize our ex
egetical studies, it will render great service to us in the con
struction of Systematic Theology. We shall gain an in
sight into the genetic relations of the great concepts of
Redemption as we watch their gradual unfolding. We shall
acquire an historical habit in the study of Scripture. Texts
whose doctrinal significance we have overlooked will be seen in
a new light; and proof-texts that have been quoted by gen
erations of dogmaticians in support of doctrines which they
do not prove will, so far as the purposes of Dogmatic Theolo
gy are concerned, be sent into honorable retirement.
3. Ecclesiastical Theology. — Under this head we are to
group all those studies that are involved in our conception of
the Church. And of course there is —
(1) The History of the Church, which may be considered
as general and special. Now the historian's method will be
determined largely by his conception of the Church. If organ
ization is of the essence of the Church, the liberal-minded
historian will be embarrassed by the varieties of ecclesiastical
organization. If, on the other hand, organization is not of
the essence of the Church (which is, I think, the better view),
he is relieved at once of a very serious difficulty. The Roman

14 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
Catholic historian has his own way of disposing of Presbyter
ians, and the Presbyterian historian has his way (I think a
better way) of disposing of Roman Catholics. He treats
them as constituent members of the Church — meaning by it
that great body of men throughout the world who profess the
true religion. With the problem of coexistence in space satis
factorily disposed of, the historian has on his hands the less
important, but still important problem of succession in time.
We have been told so much of late that history is not a
matter of dates that I am afraid that some people are losing
all sense of historical perspective. I should think a good
deal, it seems to me, if I were writing Church history, on
how I should periodize. Ideally speaking, one would think
that the divisions of history should be those of time; that
epochs should be indicated by events marking the terminus a
quo and the terminus ad quern; and that all minor divisions
should be absorbed in the even and uninterrupted flow of
narrative. This is Gibbon's plan, and Milman's. But it would
not have suited a work like Neander's. The detailed treatment
he was to give his subject under each category required him
to make his categories clear, distinct and comprehensive. And
so under each of his periods he deals with the Church in the
history of her spread abroad, of her life and discipline, and
of her doctrine. If, as we cannot very well avoid, we keep
the familiar rubrics of ancient, mediaeval and modern history,
we should naturally expect that temporal divisions after that
would be subdivisions of these three, and should feel it would
not be exactly logical to absorb them in another scheme
which gives nine periods of history coordinate with one an
other. Yet this is what Dr. Schaff does in his most learned
history of the Church.
It would be impossible to deal with or even to mention here
all the subjects of special Church history that may properly
fall under the curriculum of theological study; but I must
mention two, Symbolics and the History of Doctrine.
It may strike some as an anachronism for me to attach
any importance to the study of Creeds and Confessions, and
yet I think that they ought to be considered as to their origin,

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 15
the men who made them, the circumstances which gave rise
to them, and the controversies that called for their prepara
tion. We should know our own Confession of Faith in its
relation to the great family of Reformed Confessions, of
which it is the last and the best; we should see how the
Reformed Confessions differ from the Lutheran — the Augs
burg and the Formula of Concord; we should know the be
ginnings of Arminianism, and be ready to say whether we
divide the Protestant world into three great families, Luth
eran, Arminian and Reformed, or whether we make Armin-
ians and Calvinists two species under the genus Reformed.
We should have clearly in our minds the points that separate
all Protestant confessions from the Greek and Roman
Churches ; and we should know — by no means an unimportant
thing to know* — how much our Protestantism holds in com
mon with the Greek Catholic and the Roman Catholic com
munions. Turning now to the History of Doctrine, two meth
ods are open to us. We may divide the history into short
periods, and treat all the doctrines under every period; or we
may divide by making doctrine the basis and tracing each
doctrine through the centuries. Think now of Baur's great
work on the history of the doctrine of the Trinity, Miiller on
Sin, Dorner on the Person of Christ, Ritschl on Justification —
marvels of learning, every one ; then look through the histories
of Doctrine, such as Shedd's and Hagenbach's and Harnack's,
and imagine the literature that is to be studied before one is
master of this field. Consider what it means to study the
history of doctrine. It means not only that we watch the
changes from the indefinite to the definite that a doctrine has
undergone, not only that we know what the great Doctors
and Fathers have said regarding it; but that we understand,
too, the influences that led to these opinions, and particularly
the coloring of current philosophy, whether it be Platonic or
Aristotelian ; whether it be Manichean or Scholastic, whether it
be Kantian or Hegelian. And think of the work that this in
volves ! If I were having an historian of dogma made to order
I would require him to have great acquisitive powers, and I
would have him at home in the languages of the Bible. I would

16 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
have him secure a mastery of Church History in general. I
would make him as thorough in his mastery of the history
of Philosophy. I would have him become a systematic dog-
matician of the highest logical powers; and when I had done
all, I would put him early at the task of studying the history
of doctrine. Then we might get what at present we do not
have — a satisfactory treatment of the subject.
The second topic under the head of Ecclesiastical Theology
is (2) the Organization of the Church. There are wide dif
ferences of opinion in regard to the way in which the Church
should be organized, officered and governed. The theologian
who wishes to discuss the question of the primitive ecclesia
without being dependent upon second-hand sources must be
able to handle patristic literature for himself, as Hatch and
Lightfoot do. He should be familiar with the great systems
of Church and State relationships — the Byzantine, the Roman,
the Erastian — as well as that which proceeds upon the theory
of the entire separation of the one from the other. Because
a man is a Presbyterian minister he is not cut off from interest
in other communions, and if his specialty is Church govern
ment he ought to know and be familiar with the great admin
istrative problems in other communions. The decisions of the
Court of Arches and of the Judicial Committee of the Privy
Council in regard to points of doctrine and ritual in the Church
of England ought to interest him. The great struggle for
spiritual independence which culminated in the Scottish dis
ruption of 1843 should be known by him as he knows the
history of his own Church; and the law of his Church, as
laid down in the Book of Discipline, and the judicial decisions
of the General Assembly should be read in the light of Par-
dovan's Collections and, for that matter, in the light of the
Canon law. What would be said if I should recommend theo
logical students to take a course in Roman Law? And yet I
am sure that such a course would be useful to them. And
then there is the whole question of the Church in relation to
the law of the land — the law of the land regarding Church
property, regarding the conclusive character of ecclesiastical
sentences, as laid down in the decision of the Supreme Court

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 17
of the United States in the Walnut Street Church case, and
the laws of the several States regarding marriage and divorce.
These are all matters which are within the legitmate province
of the minister.
The last subject which claims consideration under the head
of Ecclesiastical Theology is (3) the Work and Worship of
the Church. Two questions present themselves in this con
nection: the question of extending the Church's influence
and that of promoting the spiritual well-being of her mem
bers. Missions, Pastoral Theology, Liturgies, Homiletics —
these and topics like these should be dealt with under this
department. A course of lectures on Missions, such as those
delivered here by Dr. Dennis and others, is a great addition to
the Seminary's curriculum. Lectures on the history of mis
sions, the missionary problems, the bearing of missions on
the statesmanship of the world, and the bearing of diplomacy
on the future of Christianity — these are great subjects and
fitted to awaken the highest enthusiasm of any man who will
approach them with interest and sufficient breadth of vision.
I do not dwell on the subject of Pastoral Theology, but I
will take the liberty to say to my younger brethren that we
ministers need all the good advice we can get respecting the
exercise of tact and good sense, respecting the care of our
life and the avoidance of those things that mar our influence.
A Professor in this Seminary once thought it not beneath his
dignity to write a book on Clerical Manners and I have some
times thought that a new edition of that book, brought down
to date, with some additional suggestions as to the amenities
of social life, is greatly needed.
I have very little to say regarding Homiletics, though if. as
with most of us it is the case, our productive activity is to
spend itself in making sermons, I do not see how we can
fail to attach great importance to the subject. The minister
who does not know what Shedd and Phelps have said on
sermonizing shows great indifference, it seems to me, to the
attainment of excellence in his profession. A man who makes
a serious study of this subject and brings to it a well-furnished
mind, will need none of the popular homiletical helps and can

18 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
afford to throw his Dictionary of Illustrations out of the
window. I do not feel the difficulty which some experience in
settling the boundary lines of plagiarism. A full man, with a
fresh mind, after sufficient brooding on his text, will get down
to the roots of the text, will see what nobody else will see in
the same light; for the thing seen, to use a Kantianism, is
not the text-in-itself, but the text-in-itself in relation to the
man-in-himself ; and this being the case, if the man-in-him-
self be a man— that is, if he has grown out of his babyhood
and rounded into a separate mind — the possibilities are infinite
respecting the sermons that may be preached from any text.
And so I say to my younger brethren in the ministry, and
especially to the young men who have not yet entered it : get
powers of expression, get knowledge, get thought-power, get
rich Christian experience, get a knowledge of homiletical
technique, and then let the sermon be yours — nay, rather, let it
be you. Let it be an arrow shot from the tense bow-string
of conviction and it will hit the mark every time.
But the sermon is not the only thing in the worship of the
Church, and in some Churches it is not the most important
thing. We belong to the non-liturgical family of Churches,
and music does not hold the place in our Church that it occu
pies in some other branches of Christendom. But that is no
reason why we should fail to provide proper instruction in
our Seminaries in Church music of the better sort or ignore
the great devotional formulas which have fed the spiritual
life of generations of Christians. I should say that it is the
minister of the non-liturgical Church, since he is expected to be
ready at a moment's notice to express himself in apt, elevated,
rhythmical, devotional language, who is likely to be most
profited by familiar acquaintance with the liturgical formulas
of the Christian Church. For the nurture of his own spiritual
life, and for his greater efficiency as a minister of the Word,
I commend to every theological student the duty of having an
intimate acquaintance with the Word of God in the English
tongue; but I would also commend to him the duty of famil
iarizing himself with the Church's best literature of devotion,
and whether it be the Imitation of Christ, or The Christian

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 19
Year, or The Book of Common Prayer that claims his atten
tion; whether it be the hymns of Watts or Doddridge or
Wesley, or Faber or Newman, or Bonar or Heber in which
his religious feelings find expression, let him remember that
the meditations, the prayers, the hymns of Christian men of
all ages are the common heritage of the Christian world.
II.
Antithesis.
We are now to deal with that part of Theology which re
gards the Christian system as antithetically related to oppos
ing forms of thought. In the early days of the Reformed
Theology all defenses of revealed truths were included under
the name Polemic Theology. Thus Stapfer, in the second
and third volumes of his Polemic Theology, deals in succes
sion with Atheism, Deism, Epicureanism, Ethnicism, Natural
ism, Judaism, Mohammedanism, Socinianism, Romanism,
Fanaticism, Pelagianism, and reaches his climax in his chapter
against the Remonstrants and the Anabaptists. The classifi
cation exhibits all the faults that are conceivable in a discus
sion of this kind. I shall not call attention to them further
than to say that there is a great difference between those con
troversies whose area is within the Christian communions and
those which are carried on against men who deny the super-
naturalism of Christianity. Polemic Theology pertains to the
first, Apologetic Theology to the second.
1. Polemic Theology.- — The phrase does not have a very
amiable sound, and on that account some would like to have it
superseded by a less warlike form of expression. But I do
not know that we should quarrel with the adjective, if that for
which it stands is an accepted fact. If the rupture with Rome
was justifiable a Protestant polemic becomes a necessity —
that is to say, we must defend our position. It is a pity that
Protestantism has undergone the process of division into
sects, but it is the inevitable logic of its postulates. When
the doctrine of the one visible corporate Church is parted
with, as Protestantism necessarily parts with it, there is no

20 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
logical stopping-place, and we may multiply sects indefinitely.
For when the basis of the organization is not the Creed which
shall include the largest number of Christians, but that which
shall embrace the largest number of doctrines, and which shall
express them in the best and most Scriptural manner, you of
course see what will be the result. Creeds will multiply, and
sects will multiply. The greater the extension the less the
intension; the greater the intension the less the extension.
Suppose, now, that you belong to one of these Churches
and accept its creed-statements. Suppose that men outside
of your communion revile your doctrines, ridicule your faith
and misrepresent your most cherished convictions. Are you
not to be allowed to defend yourself? Suppose that when
there is peace within your walls and prosperity within your
palaces, there arise those within your communion who flaunt
their ridicule of the creed to which they have subscribed in
the faces of the congregations which they serve. Are you to
do nothing? Have you no right to stand up in defense of
what you believe to be precious truth? Now these are pre
cisely the occasions that develop the controversial element in
the Church's life. I do not see, therefore, how we can help
having a place for Polemic Theology in the Theological Ency
clopaedia. I do not understand Polemic Theology to mean a
bitter spirit. It is simply the intellectual outcome of a condi
tion of things in which a witness-bearing Church, prompted
by zeal for the truth and a holy instinct of self-preservation,
girds itself to do battle against what it believes to be error.
2. Apologetic Theology. — Polemic Theology, as I have
said, at one tim# included all that we now designate as Apolo
getics; and Apologetics is in the nature of the case polemic,
only its warfare is carried on between those who believe and
those who deny a Supernatural Revelation. And yet the irenic
character of Apologetics is very decided also. It must needs
soften the tone of controversy for us to remember that, differ
as we may, in some points, from our brethren in other com
munions, we stand shoulder to shoulder with them in defense
of more important truth. Says Delitzsch in his Apologetik:
" When we are carried along by Tertullian's Apologetics and

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 21
wonder at his depth and wealth of thought, we thank God
that the Church has had a man who with such power was
able to wield the sword of the Spirit, and we forget his Mon-
tanism. And when we read the learned and elegant book de
veritate religionis Christiance which Grotius wrote as a pastime
during a sea voyage for those who traveled in heathen lands,
we take our Christian brother by the hand without feeling sore
at his Arminianism. So, too, we recognize Paley, the author
of the Evidences of Christianity, and Butler, the author of the
Analogy, and all the great English and American defenders
of Christian truth, without asking questions respecting their
ecclesiastical connections. And when among the later apolo-
getes we recognize in Drey, Dreisinger, Staudenmeier, and
lastly Hettinger four distinguished Catholic investigators,
without, in so doing, making any treaty with the Roman
Catholic Church, we greet them with a hearty pax vobiscum."
The encyclopaedists are fond of distinguishing between
Apology and Apologetics — and the distinction is a sound one.
Apologies are as old as Christianity; systems of Apologetics
do not go back of the nineteenth century. Tertullian wrote
an Apology, and when the early Christian Fathers defended
themselves and their religion against the particular allegations
made against them they wrote Apologies; so when the eigh
teenth century deists called out the great apologetic literature
of that period, the greatest in the annals of the Church of
any period, they wrote Apologies. That is to say, they wrote
special defenses of Christianity from particular points of view
and covering the particular questions then in issue. But when,
instead of dealing with a particular controversy, we consider
how the Christian religion shall justify its claims to be a
supernaturally revealed religion, we are dealing with a much
broader and more abstract question. When Lightfoot defends
the historical trustworthiness of the books of the New Testa
ment against the author of Supernatural Religion, he is writ
ing an Apology. But when Ebrard or Sack or Baumstark
writes a systematic defense of Christianity as a supernatural
religion, he writes an Apologetic. It is because Apologetic
has this character of systematic or organic completeness, I

22 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
suppose, that some encyclopaedists regard it as a branch of
Systematic Theology. But there is a great difference, I think,
between our conception of Apologetic and that of Systematic
Theology. The motive in Systematic Theology is didactic;
that in Apologetic Theology is polemic. Let it be understood,
then, that Apologetics is a systematic exhibition of the de
fenses of Christianity. The apologete is not seeking to defend
Calvinism or Arminianism or Lutheranism or Romanism as
such. He is seeking to defend that core of truth which these
systems hold in common. We are in a different attitude al
together when we speak as dogmaticians and when we speak
as apologetes. As dogmaticians we ask: What do we know
concerning God? It is the truth and the whole truth we are
in quest of. It will be the maximum quid of belief, therefore,
that will be our object. But as apologetes we ask: How can
the truth which differentiates Christianity from all other re
ligions, and which the various sects of Christians hold in
common, be defended? It is the minimum quid which we
are seeking. What is that truth which, if a man believe, he
shall be saved? What is the truth which represents the es
sence of Christianity — understanding by essence, to use Spin
oza's words, " that without which the thing, and which itself
without the thing, can neither be nor be conceived " ? On the
one hand the man who reduces Christianity to morality, who
gives up miracles and makes no numerical distinction between
God and the finite spirits whom he has created, minimizes too
much. Therefore, when men like Matthew Arnold play the
part of apologetes and wish to be regarded as defenders of
the faith, we reject their kind offers at once — non tali auxilio
nee defensoribus istis. And yet is it not just as true that there
are good Christian men whose views on the Trinity, the Per
son of Christ, the Atonement, the nature of Sin, the question
of Retribution, and the doctrine of Inspiration are erroneous ?
Clearly, there-fore, when we undertake the work of Apolo
getics we must take as our starting-point what we regard as
essential Christianity. Where shall we find it? Is it not
here — to wit, "that God was in Christ reconciling the world
unto himself, not imputing unto men their trespasses"?

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 23

III.
Synthesis
The cathedral, some one has said, is the synthesis of all the
forms of art. Its beauty and the impressiveness of its services
are largely in the fact that it is the blending of archi
tecture, sculpture, painting and music. What the cathedral
is to the arts, Systematic Theology is to the several Disciplines
that enter into theological study. The Systematic Theologian
is an architect. Less accomplished, perhaps, than others in
the knowledge of any one specialty, he must be more accom
plished than any in the knowledge of all specialties. His spec
ialty is the knowledge of the results in all specialties. Like
the professed Biblical Theologian he gets his doctrines out of
the Bible, but his work does not stop with exegesis. He sees
the doctrines not only as separately deducible from Scripture,
but as progressively unfolded in Scripture. He sees them as the
subjects of varying fortunes in the course of history, as defend
ed here and antagonized there. He sees them as the subjects of
controversy and as the constituent elements in ecclesiastical
symbols. He knows, moreover, that while some truths regard
ing God are taught in the Bible and nowhere else, other truths
may be seen in the light of nature. But these truths of natural
religion stand polemically related to those forms of philosophic
thought which deny them. And the truths of Revealed Relig
ion have felt the Warping, blighting, compromising influence
of a false philosophy. The Systematic Theologian in the very
act of being a Systematic Theologian must be an Apologetic
Theologian, must be a Polemic Theologian, must be a student
of philosophy, must be a Biblical Theologian, must be familiar
with ecclesiastical history, must know the ins and outs of ec
clesiastical life. All this goes to justify me in saying that
Systematic Theology is not a department that is coordinate
with Exegetical Theology, with Historical Theology, with
Practical Theology. Rather is it the synthesis of all these
Disciplines which we have been considering. This, at least,

24 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
is the place that I feel bound to give it in the outline of Theo
logical Encyclopaedia which I am presenting here.
The grandeur of Systematic Theology thus conceived will
hardly be denied. The legitimacy of the Systematic Theolo
gian's undertaking cannot be called in question. Even when
men have given form to systems foreign to our mode of
thought and far away from what we believe to be true it is
impossible not to admire and to wonder at the vast construc
tive power their systems manifest. The first question is, of
course, whether or no God has spoken. For if he has spoken,
it is certain that he has not said one thing or two. He has
said a great many things. And these parts of the Divine
message sustain relations to one another. What are these
relations? It is said that God has not given us a Systematic
Theology in the Bible. Neither has he given us a ready-made
Astronomy nor a ready-made Biology. Linnaeus had to work
for his classification. God has not planted nature like a park
with studied reference to orders, genera and species. It is
said that logic is a snare, and I have heard ministers in the
pulpit grow eloquent over the ensnaring power of logic when it
was quite evident that, however much other people were suff
ering by it, they were entirely safe themselves. I am not
ready to say credo quia impossibile, or credo quia absurdum est.
I do not think we can save our faith by discarding our intel
lects. The world will not long continue to value a religion
which it believes to be irrational, no matter who it is that com
mends it to our consideration. And whether it be Tertullian
or Ritschl, or Herrmann or Coleridge, or Isaac Taylor or
Balfour, or Kidd or Mallock, or the modern high-potency di-
lutionists of the Ritschlian School, who in this country are
giving us an ethico-sentimental naturalism as the new Gospel
for the twentieth century, I make bold to tell them all alike
that Christianity will be denied a hearing in the court of feeling
once she has been non-suited at the bar of reason.
The theme of Systematic Theology is the sum of our knowl
edge regarding God. This includes of course, human con
duct ; and it is quite possible to include both faith and practice
under one set of categories. Thus Turretine discusses morality

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA

25

under the Law; so does Dr. Charles Hodge. But it is not
common to do this. In the Roman Catholic Church the dis
tinction is clearly marked between Dogmatic and Moral Theol
ogy — the latter being largely occupied with the solution of
difficult questions of casuistry. And in the Protestant Churches
the distinction between dogmatics and ethics has been recog
nized since the seventeenth century. It was first made for the
Reformed Church by Danaeus, and for the Lutheran Church
by Calixtus.
i. Christian Ethics. — A theologian, of course, can limit
himself to the discussion of those practical questions of
conduct which represent the difference between rational ethics
and revealed ethics. He may say that his field of conduct is
conditioned by Christianity. But, perplexing as some of the
questions will be that fall within this area, I am inclined to
think that he cannot limit himself to this area. He will feel,
I am confident, that the entire territory of morals is his.
Fundamental questions regarding Moral Obligation, the Good
and the Right, will confront him and he will find it impossible
to ignore what is being said or what has been said by men like
Sidgwick and Green, and Spencer and Martineau, and Taylor
and Shadworth Hodgson and Paulsen.
Again, the Professor of Christian Ethics must not only con
sider the law of Christianity conditioning conduct; he must
also, or, rather, he may also, consider the Christian's ethical
state in relation to this law ; for Christian ethics not only sees
the Christian in the light of the new obligations imposed by the
law of Christ, it also sees him in the light of his new ethical
state produced by the Holy Spirit. So that the whole question
of Regeneration and Sanctification may properly come under
Christian Ethics, and this is a very large part of Dogmatic
Theology. In fact, to such an extent do Dogmatics and Ethics
overlap that in some writers, as in Nitzsch and Rothe, the
whole or nearly the whole dogmatic area is covered by the de
partment of Christian Ethics.
But it is distinctly to the department of Christian Ethics,
and not to that of Practical Theology, that the discussion of
the great social problems of the day belongs. That these

26 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
problems should be discussed, that the Church should have
something to say in regard to the poverty, disease and crime
that seem to be the inevitable result of the congested life of
our large cities, and that there is moreover a great and practi
cal work to be done in reference to the pathological conditions
of society through organized philanthropic agency, there can
be no doubt; but it is a mistake to call this Sociology, and it
is worse than a mistake when under the name of Christian
Sociology work of this sort is made a substitute for the preach
ing of the Gospel. For Sociology in its proper sense I have
great respect ; but for that shallow compound of sociology and
sentimentality which is just now the largest output of the new
Christianity, I have none, for it satisfies neither my intellect
nor my feelings.
The man who would deal adequately with the social problem
must know, to begin with, what men like Baldwin and Giddings
have to say regarding the psychology of social life; he must
know, whether he agrees with them or not, what men like
Mackenzie and Bosanquet have to say regarding the metaphys
ics of society and its final cause. He must have more than a
superficial knowledge of the evolution of our institutional life
which has given us in their present forms the Family, the
Church and the State ; he must understand the principles of the
great normative sciences of ethics and jurisprudence which
deal respectively with the life of the individual and the or
ganism; he must know something of the economic laws that
underlie the growth of industrialism; and then, perhaps, he
may hope to address himself to the great pathological problems
and make an intelligent application to them of the ethical
principles of Christianity. But, then, who is sufficient for
these things?
2. Dogmatics. — I cannot undertake to name and crit
icise the various definitions that have been given of Dogmatic
Theology; but I prefer to say that Dogmatic Theology is a
systematic exhibition of our knowledge regarding God. Its
content, then, is knowledge. It is what we know and have
good reason for knowing, whatever that reason may be. It is
knowledge regarding God. It may, and does, include the

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 27
knowledge of a great many things besides God; but it is the
knowledge of those things in their Godward relationships.
God is the great category under which all the knowledge which
Dogmatic has for content is subsumed. It is systematic knowl
edge. It is not simply the knowledge of separate dogmas. It
is articulated knowledge. It is knowledge that has been
brought together under great dominant generalizations. You
see, then, at once what a broad field the dogmatic theologian
has before him. What a splendid history Dogmatic Theology
has had ! I can hardly imagine a more interesting study than
that of going through the dogmatic writers from the Reforma
tion down to our own day, for the purpose of comparing their
methods and of watching the influence of prevailing philoso
phies upon their forms of statement. With the help of writers
on dogmatic history like Gass and Ebrard, and Schweizer and
Heppe, this ought not to be a difficult thing, and it certainly
would be an interesting thing to do.
As the result of such a study we should find that the Sys
tematic Theology which had been developed so fully under
philosophical domination from Albert the Great to Aquinas,
and which in the declining days of Scholasticism went through
a waning process, was developed under the polemic condi
tions of the Reformation into new activity. The Reforma
tion principle of the Bible as the rule of faith gave us a
period of dogmatic supernaturalism. First we have the three
great dogmaticians of the Reformation — Melanchthon in his
Loci communes, Zwingli in his de vera et falsa Religione,
and Calvin in his Institutio Christiana; religionis. Then came
the separation of the Lutheran and Reformed Theologies,
the latter proceeding until differences found expression in
the antithesis of Gomarus and Arminius, when we had the
Synod of Dort and the extrusion of the Arminian party.
Reformed Theology still developed, ending in rival, antag
onistic and mediating schools. There were the Scholastics,
building deductively and taking the eternal purpose as their
starting-point. Then there were the Federalists — Cocceius
and Witsius — presenting theology as the progressive exhi
bition of the covenants. There were the Cartesians, repre-

28 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
senting the influence of philosophy and particularly of natural
science — men like Voetius and Maresius, who distinguished be
tween natural and revealed religion, and saw that supernatural
revelation presupposed the light of nature and the use of rea
son. Then came the period when the differences were recon
ciled and under the influence of the Leibnitzo-Wolfian philoso
phy a theological Scholasticism was presented which served
as a mould by means of which these varying elements could
be pressed into shape and symmetry. The federal idea was
retained; the decrees were given a conspicuous place; philoso
phy was recognized as having some function and the great
systems of the seventeenth century came forth, notably that
of Turretine — the Thomas Aquinas of Protestantism.
Lutheranism, too, went through its period of development,
as Ebrard shows; but I have time only to refer to this fact
which Ebrard brings out, that while the Reformed Theology
was systematic first and dogmatic afterward, the Lutheran
Theology was dogmatic first and systematic afterward. The
genius of Calvinism was to schematize. Lutheranism dwelt
first upon particular dogmas, and reached its schematizing
stage later. This is worthy of notice, inasmuch as in later
years Lutheranism has distanced all competitors in regard to
constructive Dogmatics.
The age of Supernaturalism was followed by that of Ration
alism, in which the attempt was made to reduce the doctrines
of Christianity to the level of human reason and reject those
which resisted the attempt. Following this period of Ration
alism or, rather, when Rationalism and Supernaturalism were
the contending foes, when it was a duel between infallible Bible
and infallible reason, came Schleiermacher, a sort of Platonic
Methodist, to protest against the deification of the intellect and
plead for the place of the feelings in religion. But his very
subjectivism of the feelings, though protesting against the
subjectivism of the intellect, was in close alliance with the
subjectivism of the intellect. Hence, when Hegel arose,
though he was the antithesis of Schleiermacher and ridiculed
his definition of religion, he was yet so related to him that
mediation was not impossible, so that subsequent writers have

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 29
given evidence of both influences ; and Rothe, when he wrote
his Ethics, was now a mystic and now a speculative theologian,
having one foot, as Lange expresses it, in Schleiermacher's
slipper and the other in Hegel's boot. Hence arose the mediat
ing school, the school that seeks to keep the good in both sys
tems and preserve the historic continuity of Church doctrine.
To this school belonged Nitzsch and Ullmann, and Dorner and
Martensen. And now the last movement is in progress, and
the note of the Ritschlian revolt from the reign of Hegel is
the banishment of metaphysics from theology. The good side
of the movement is its return to the historic basis and its im
patience of a theology which resolves the historic faith of
Christianity into the glittering generalities of the Hegelian dia
lectic. The bad side of it is the inevitable schism which it in
troduces into the life of the individual Christian, between the
theology of the intellect and the theology of the feelings. Say
what its leaders may respecting the continued hold which these
doctrines have as value-judgments, the system must be judged
by its net result of fact and rational conviction. No system
can stand the strain of an inner contradiction which is implied
in holding for true what is believed to be false; of believing
with the heart what is discredited by the head. And sooner or
later Ritschlianism must give up its see-saw of Intellect and
Feeling between Socinianism and Evangelical Christianity and
settle down to one or the other.
Assuming now that the Systematic Theologian has his ma
terials ready for organization into system, what method shall
he adopt? This, of course, is an important question as a mat
ter of logic ; but the impression seems to prevail in some quar
ters that it is a vital question as a matter of theological con
tent. This, however, I fail to see. There is the strictly local
or topical method of the early theologians of Reformation
times; there is the federal method of Witsius; there is the
method which makes the Trinity the basis of division, which
Calvin adopts in his Institutes; there is the method which starts
from the anthropological standpoint and discusses Sin and its
Remedy, as Chalmers does; there is the strictly theological
method where everything is discussed under the concept of

30 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
God; and then there is the Christocentric method, of which
so much has been said in recent years by way of disparaging
other methods. But, after all, how can a Christocentric method
of schematizing the doctrines affect the doctrines themselves ?
Here are your separate blocks of dogma, and each has its own
significance. You can build these blocks into any shape you
please : you may build castles or cathedrals ; but however much
you change the relations of these blocks to each other, you
do not on that account change the individuality of each. Well,
then, put your dogmatic blocks together as symmetry, logic and
the suggestions of your own intellect may dictate ; you do not
thereby change the doctrines themselves. Your schematism
may not be the same as mine, but neither of us by mere schema
tism can modify a single doctrinal unit. No, depend upon it, no
new light is going to break forth from the Word of God as
the result of a new schematization of the doctrines. The ques
tion as to whether a system of doctrine is true is to be tested
first of all by the inquiry whether the doctrines of the system
are true. If they are true, then the building of them into sys
tems is not only the natural but the necessary outcome of that
type of intellect that seeks order and symmetry, and sees re
lated truths in the light of great generalizations.
I know that Systematic Theology is discredited in some
quarters; some seem to think that it stands as a barrier to
religious fervor and practical piety; some tell us that we
must get ready for a theological reconstruction and that the
time for that reconstruction is at hand. But the only con
sistent despisers of Systematic Theology are those who in
their hearts believe, however slow they may be to confess
it, that in the light of history as it is now read, and of
philosophy as it is now studied, and of science as it is now
proclaimed, there is little or no rational content for Sys
tematic Theology. If the Church's Dogmatic is the result
of a Hellenizing process ; if the body of Catholic doctrines is
a parasitic growth which has fastened itself upon the original
simple cult of Jesus, and if, as Harnack believes, the Reforma
tion is only an imperfect attempt to restore this simple undog-
matic faith, then I grant you that a Systematic Theology of

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA 31
very modest proportions is all we need. We need talk no more
of cathedrals as symbols of our dogmatic system. The hum
blest two-room hut, without paint or decoration, without even
a common wayside flower in the window to tell the presence
within of a heart that is touched with feeling or an eye that
kindles in the warming presence of beauty, will be a sufficient
exponent of the poverty and desolation that must inevitably
come as the result of this conception of the origin and growth
of the Christian Church. But if the Bible is true, and the
Church is built upon the foundation of the apostles and proph
ets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cornerstone, then the
labors of the Fathers, and the decisions of Councils, and the
controversies of theologians have been inspired by the efforts
of earnest men to do honor to the Word of God. And the
great systems of divinity which stretch like mountain peaks
before the field of our vision are monumental tributes which
the Church of God, through the writings of her gifted men,
has had the unspeakable honor of paying to her exalted and
incarnate Head.
I do not look for an immediate revival of interest in Sys
tematic Theology, and yet I know that the greatest achieve
ment of the American Church is in this sphere. The Church
of England has done magnificant work in Biblical literature, in
Apologetics and in Dogmatic discussion. But nearly half a
century ago Bishop Ellicott deplored her lack of interest in
Systematic Theology. The American Churches — I refer par
ticularly to the Presbyterian and Congregational Churches —
have won the conspicuous place they hold in theological liter
ature through the labors of their systematic theologians.
Think of the names in the great roster of American theologians
which come instantly to your lips without effort or need of
reference to the books that stand on your shelves — Edwards,
Hopkins, Emmons, Taylor, Park, Hodge, Breckinridge,
Thornwell, Dabney, Finney, Shedd, Henry B. Smith — sys
tematic theologians every one. Shall we turn this page in the
history of American theology and look upon it as the record
of a vast mistake? Has the new Christianity taught us only
to believe that these were visionary and misguided men?

32 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
I agree with Harnack and the Ritschlians generally in
giving the primacy to our instinctive judgments of worth;
but I do not believe that there is a schism between faith
and knowledge, between our value- judgments and scientific
truth. And what is more, I believe that unless these value-
judgments are rooted in a sound metaphysic, they will lose
their controlling influence on life. I admit that it is religion,
as Harnack says, that gives life its meaning. Rob life of its
faith. in God, its hope of immortality and the ethical ideals we
owe to the teachings of Jesus, and life shrivels into a meaning
less medley of hope and fear, of pain and struggle, of unsatis
fied desire, of sated appetite, of selfish ambition and the tender
memories of cherished love. But who shall say that Nature
has anything better for us than bitter disappointments? Jesus,
you tell me, has revealed God and told me that God is my
Father. But how do we know that Jesus speaks with authority ?
How, without the Divinity which we claim for him and the
miraculous evidence that accredits that Divinity, do we feel
sure of his authority? Because his message wakes echoes in
our souls, you say, and his words find responses in our nature.
Then his authority is no higher than our higher impulses. But
when we are told that these higher impulses have come by way
of natural development, and that even Jesus is only an event
in the great cosmic process, what shall our answer be ? When
these finer feelings, these ethical ideals, these tender instincts
are nipped by the frost of a pitiless naturalism, what shall we
say ? Say that we will not give up ? Say that we will set the
world of value- judgments against the world of cosmic fact and
by sheer assertion win the victory for faith and love? Very
well; but then your minimized Christianity is no help in the
fight against a naturalistic philosophy. It is only a theistic ethic
taught by Jesus, and instead of banishing metaphysics from its
realm it is itself a philosophy, and stands or falls with a theistic
metaphysic. Let us understand the issue in the great battle of to-day
for fundamental Christianity. We had thought that Chris
tianity was more than philosophy and spoke with Divine au
thority; but in the minimized version of Christianity there

THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA

33

is nothing but philosophy left. We had thought it necessary
to defend a theistic metaphysic and a theistic ethic as the neces
sary philosophic basis of a gospel which presented a way of
salvation through an incarnate Christ. But we have little
heart even for this struggle if Christianity itself turns out,
after all, to be only a theistic ethic. If our great Leader is
slain and the citadel has capitulated, why need we longer make
a fruitless struggle?
Give us the Incarnation and Resurrection of Christ, then
Sin, the Atonement and Justification follow; and you have a
Dogmatic and Systematic Theology. But eliminate the Incar
nation, and then your religion is an emotional morality con
nected with the name of Jesus, of whom] you still speak in the
language made sacred by long use and early association; but
in its last analysis it is a moral philosophy in competition with
other moral philosophies, and defended by a theistic metaphys
ic that has to cope with another metaphysic which denies God,
or makes no distinction between him and the works of his
hand. I am pronouncing no judgment on men. I am dealing only
with the relationships of thought. I know that men are often
better than their creeds ; and that deep in the core of a man's
being there is often a better faith than that which he can
formulate in words. I am far from saying that apart from
Dogmatic Christianity there is no valid ground for a theistic
ethic. But the motive that will make a man fight as for his
hearthstone and his home in support of that theistic ethic is
his abiding belief in the incarnate Christ ; and the historic evi
dence' for the incarnate Christ is one of the great bulwarks of
theistic belief. Theism is the logical prius of the Incarnation,
it is true, but theism and the Incarnation are reciprocally in
fluential on each other. This is what I mean when I say that
in the defense of supernatural Christianity everything is at
stake. And this is the reason that in the crisis of to-day we are
witnessing the greatest war of intellect that has ever been
waged since the birthday of the Nazarene.
Sooner or later I am sure the eyes of men will be opened
and they will see — would to God they might see it now ! — that

34 THEOLOGICAL ENCYCLOPAEDIA
the great battle of the twentieth century is in its final issue a
struggle between a Dogmatic Christianity on the one hand and
an out-and-out naturalistic philosophy on the other.

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
Benjamin Breckinridge Warfield

Introduction : Difficulty of forming a universally acceptable conception of
our Lord's emotional life. Effect of incarnation. Ideal of virtue.
Value of the express attributions of specific emotions to him.
I. Compassion and Love.
SirXaYx^'f0/40' and its grounds. Aaicptfw and K\atw; a-revi^oi and iva-
aTevA^w. Love to God and man : dyardoi. Friendship: <pi\4u.
II. Indignation and Annoyance.
Inevitableness of angry emotions. 'Opy-fi- ' Ayavaxriu. 'EupptfuioiMu
and its object. 'Eirn-i/udw and its ground. ZiJXos. Angry language.
Ecce Homo on Christ's resentment.
III. Joy and Sorrow,
Man of Sorrows or Man of Joy ? ' AyaWtdo/xai. Renan's perversion.
Jesus' hopes and illusions ? Fundamental joy. Xapd. Lighter emo
tions of joy and sorrow. The shadow of the cross. 2u»<?x<<> The
pro-Gethsemane : rapdo-a-a. The Agony, its elements and meaning.
'ASri/wviw ; \viriop.ai, iK0at±l3(!ofj.ai, irepLXvTos. The Dereliction. Cause
of our Lord's Death.
Fundamental religious emotions unmentioned. Few ordinary
emotions mentioned : davp.dj;a>, £irt0vp.la, tiraurxti'op.at..
Conclusion: Fulness of our Lord's emotions. Reality of his humanity.
His individuality. His chief characteristics? His comprehensive
ness. Our model. Our Saviour.

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
It belongs to the truth of our Lord's humanity, that he was
subject to all sinless human emotions.1 In the accounts which
the Evangelists give us of the crowded activities which filled
the few years of his ministry, the play of a great variety of
emotions is depicted. It has nevertheless not proved easy to
form a universally acceptable conception of our Lord's emo
tional life. Not only has the mystery of the Incarnation en
tered in as a disturbing factor, the effect of the divine nature on
the movements of the human soul brought into personal union
with it being variously estimated. Differences have arisen also
as to how far there may be attributed to a perfect human nature
movements known to us only as passions of sinful beings.
Two opposite tendencies early showed themselves in the
Church. One, derived ultimately from the ethical ideal of the
Stoa, which conceived moral perfection under the form of
airdOeia, naturally wished to attribute this ideal airdOeia to
Jesus, as the perfect man. The other, under the influence of
the conviction that, in order to deliver men from their weak-
1 "Certainly ", remarks Calvin (Commentarius in Harmoniam Evan-
gelicarum, Mt. xxvi. 37), "those who imagine that the Son of God was
exempt from human passions, do not truly and seriously acknowledge
him to be a man." " But Christ having a human nature the same for
substance that ours is, consisting both of soul and body," argues Thomas
Goodwin (Works, Edinburgh ed., 1862, iv. p. 140), "therefore he must
needs have affections, — even affections proper to man's nature and truly
human. And these he should have had, although this human nature
had, from the very first assumption of it, been as glorious as it now is>
in heaven." " In what sense the soul is capable of suffering ", says John
Pearson (An Exposition of the Creed, New York ed., 1843, p. 288), "in
that he was subject to animal passion. Evil apprehended to come tor
mented his soul with fear, which was as truly in him in respect of
what he was to suffer, as hope in reference to the recompense of a
reward to come after and from his sufferings. "

38 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
nesses, the Redeemer must assume and sanctify in his own
person all human irdO-n, as naturally was eager to attribute to
him in its fulness every human irdOos. Though in far less
clearly defined forms, and with a complete shifting of their
bases, both tendencies are still operative in men's thought of
Jesus. There is a tendency in the interest of the dignity of
his person to minimize, and there is a tendency in the interest
of the completeness of his humanity to magnify, his affec-
tional movements. The one tendency may run some risk of
giving us a somewhat cold and remote Jesus, whom we can
scarcely believe to be able to sympathize with us in all our
infirmities. The other may possibly be in danger of offering
us a Jesus so crassly human as scarcely to command our high
est reverence. Between the two, the figure of Jesus is liable
to take on a certain vagueness of outline, and come to lack
definiteness in our thought. It may not be without its uses,
therefore, to seek a starting point for our conception of his
emotional life in the comparatively few2 affectional movements
which are directly assigned to him in the Gospel narratives.
Proceeding outward from these, we may be able to form a
more distinctly conceived and firmly grounded idea of his
emotional life in general.
It cannot be assumed beforehand, indeed, that all the emo
tions attributed to Jesus in the Evangelical narratives are in
tended to be ascribed distinctively to his human soul.3 Such is
3 There is some exaggeration in the remark : " The notices in the
Gospels of the impressions made on his feelings by different situations
in which he was placed, are extraordinarily numerous " (James Stalker,
Imago Christi, 1890, p. 302). The Gospel narratives are very objective,
and it is only occasionally (most frequently in Mark) that they expressly
notify the subjective movements of the actors in the drama which they
unfold. 3 Direct mention of our Lord's human 'soul', under that term (<j>vxt)
is not frequent in the Gospels : cf. Swete on Mk. xiv. 34, " Though the
Gospels yield abundant evidence of the presence of human emotions in
our Lord, (e. g. iii. 5, vi. 6, x. 14, Jno. vi. 33), this direct mention of his
" soul ' has no parallel in them if we except Jno. vii. 27 ; for in such pas
sages as x. 45, Jno. x. 11 ^1} is the individual life (see Cremer s. v.)
rather than the seat of the emotions." J. A. Alexander on Mk. xiv. 34
remarks that " my soul " there " is not a mere periphrasis for the pronoun,

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD

39

no doubt the common view. And it is not an unnatural view to
take as we currently read narratives, which, whatever else they
contain, certainly present some dramatization of the human
experiences of our Lord.4 No doubt the naturalness of this
view is its sufficient general justification. Only, it will be well
to bear in mind that Jesus was definitely conceived by the Evan
gelists as a two-natured person, and that they made no difficul
ties with his duplex consciousness. In almost the same breath
they represent him as declaring that he knows the Father
through and through and, of course, also all that is in man,
and the world which is the theatre of his activities, and that
he is ignorant of the time of the occurrence of a simple earthly
event which concerns his own work very closely; that he is
meek and lowly in heart and yet at the same time the Lord of
men by their relations to whom their destinies are determined,
— " no man cometh unto the Father but by me." In the case of
a Being whose subjective life is depicted as focusing in two
centers of consciousness, we may properly maintain some re
serve in ascribing distinctively to one or the other of them
mental activities which, so far as their nature is concerned,
(/), but refers his strange sensations more directly to the inward seat
of feeling and emotion." Cf., however, the Greek text of Ps. xiii. 6, 12,
xiv. S ; but also Winer, Grammar, etc., Thayer's tr., 1872, p. 156. The
term irveOfia occurs rather more frequently than fvxti, to designate the seat
of our Lord's emotions : Mk. viii. 12 ; Jno. xi. 33, xiii. 21 ; cf . Mk. ii. 8 ;
Mt. xxvii. 50; Jno. xix. 30.
'Such an attempt as that made by W. B. Smith (Ecce Deus, 1911,
p. 101), to explain away the implication of our Lord's humanity in the
earliest Gospel transmission, is, of course, only a " curiosity of liter
ature." " Mark ", says he, " nowhere uses of Jesus an expression which
suggests an impressive or even amiable human personality; or, indeed,
any kind of human personality whatever." What Mark says of Jesus,
is what is commonly said of God — of Jehovah. The seeming exceptions
are merely specious. He ascribes " compassion " to Jesus : it is the very
core of the oriental conception of God that he is merciful. He
speaks of Jesus "rebuking" ( trm/ido ) or "snorting at" ( iuppipdoijuu )
men : these are expressions suitable to God and employed in the Old
Testament of Jehovah. He tells us that Jesus " loved " the rich young
man — the only ascription of love to Jesus, by the way, in the Synoptics :
but the rich young man is just a symbol, the symbol of Israel, whom
Jehovah loves. And so on.

40 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
might properly belong to either. The embarrassment in study
ing the emotional life of Jesus arising from this cause, how
ever, is more theoretical than practical. Some of the emotions
attributed to him in the Evangelical narrative are, in one way
or another, expressly assigned to his human soul. Some of
them by their very nature assign themselves to his human
soul. With reference to the remainder, just because they
might equally well be assigned to the one nature or the other, it
may be taken for granted that they belong to the human
soul, if not exclusively, yet along with the divine Spirit; and
they may therefore very properly be used to fill out the picture.
We may thus, without serious danger of confusion, go simply
to the Evangelical narrative, and, passing in review the definite
ascriptions of specific emotions to Jesus in its records, found
on them a conception of his emotional life which may serve
as a starting-point for a study of this aspect of our Lord's
human manifestation.
The establishment of this starting-point is the single task of
this essay. No attempt will be made in it to round out our view
of our Lord's emotional life. It will content itself with an
attempt to ascertain the exact emotions which are expressly as
signed to him in the Evangelical narrative, and will leave
their mere collocation to convey its own lesson. We deceive
ourselves, however, if their mere collocation does not suffice
solidly to ground certain very clear convictions as to our Lord's
humanity, and to determine the lines on which our conception
of the quality of his human nature must be filled out.
I.
The emotion which we should naturally expect to find most
frequently attributed to that Jesus whose Whole life was a mis
sion of mercy, and whose ministry was so marked by deeds of
beneficence that it was summed up in the memory of his fol
lowers as a going through the land " doing good " (Acts xi. 38) ,
is no doubt "compassion". In point of fact, this is the emotion
which is most frequently attributed to him.5 The term em-
"Mt. xx. 34; Mk. i. 41; Lk. vii. 13; Mt. ix. 36, xiv. 14, xv. 32; Mk.
vi. 34, viii. 2. Cf. Mk. ix. 22. Not at all in John.

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 41
ployed to express it6 was unknown to the Greek classics, and
was perhaps a coinage of the Jewish dispersion.7 It first ap
pears in common use in this sense, indeed, in the Synoptic Gos
pels,8 where it takes the place of the most inward classical word
of this connotation.9 The Divine mercy has been defined as
that essential perfection in God " whereby he pities and re
lieves the miseries of his creatures" : it includes, that is to say,
the two parts of an internal movement of pity and an external
act of beneficence. It is the internal movement of pity which
is emphasized when our Lord is said to be "moved with com
passion" as the term is sometimes excellently rendered in the
English versions.10 In the appeals made to his mercy, a
more external word11 is used ; but it is this more internal word
that is employed to express our Lord's response to these ap
peals : the petitioners besought him to take pity on them ; his
heart responded with a profound feeling of pity for them. His
5 Z7rXa7x"'fo/MH : see Bleek, An Introduction to the New Testament, § 33,
(vol. i, p. 75) ; J. A. Alexander on Mk. i. 41 ; Plummer on Mt. ix. 36.
Buttig's monograph, De Emphasi airKayxvl^opai., we have not seen.
' So Lightfoot, on Phil. i. 8.
9 It is found in the LXX in this metaphorical sense apparently only at
Prov. xvii. 5. Cf. Swete on Mk. i. 41.
0 OUrflpw, which does not occur in the Synoptic Gospels, and indeed only
once (Rom. ix. 15) in the N. T. The adjective, oIktIpiwv occurs at Lk.
ix. 36 (also Jas. v. 11 only in N. T.) ; the noun olKTipubs , occurs in
Paul (Rom. xii. 1; 2 Cor. i, 3; Phil. ii. 1; Col. iii. 12; also Heb. x. 28
only). 10 A. V. Mk. i. 41, vi. 34; Mit. ix. 36, xiv. 14; R. V. Mk. i. 41; Mt.
ix, 36, xx. 34.
a'E\e4<a (sometimes, i\edu>), Mt. ix. 27, xv. 22, xvii. IS, xx. 30-31;
Mk. x. 47-48; Lk. xvii. 13, xviii. 38-39; cf. Mk. v. 19; Mt. xviii. 33. This
word also is not found in John. In Mk. ix. 22 only is <rTr\ayx"ttop,ai used
in an appeal, and even there its more subjective sense is apparent. On
l\cos and its synonymy see J. H. Heinrich Schmidt, Synonymik der
grieschischen Sprache iii., 1879, § 143, pp. S72sq. ; and the excellent
summary statement by Thayer in Thayer-Grimm, Lexicon etc., sub voc.
i\eiw . G. Heine, Synonymik des N. T. -lichen Griechisch, 898, p. 82,
states it thus: "£X«>s pDn, ]ri) is the inclination to succor the miserable,
oiKTippAs the feeling of pain arising from the miseries of others . . .
olKTip/iis is the feeling of sympathy dwelling in the heart; eXros is
sympathy expressing itself in act." SirXo^x"'?"/"" is a term of feeling,
taking the place of olKrelpu.

42 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
compassion fulfilled itself in the outward act;12 but what is
emphasized by the term employed to express our Lord's re
sponse is, in accordance with its very derivation, the pro
found internal movement of his emotional nature.
This emotional movement was aroused in our Lord as well
by the sight of individual distress (Mk. i. 41; Mt. xx. 34;
Lk. vii. 13) as by the spectacle of man's universal misery
(Mk. vi. 34, viii. 2; Mt. ix. 36, xiv. 14, xv. 32). The appeal
of two blind men that their eyes might be opened (Mt. xx.
34), the appeal of a leper for cleansing (Mk. i. 41), — though
there may have been circumstances in his case which called
out Jesus' reprobation (verse 43), — set our Lord's heart throb
bing with pity, as did also the mere sight of a bereaved widow,
wailing by the bier of her only son as they bore him forth
to burial,13 though no appeal was made for relief (Lk.
vii. 13). The ready spontaneity of Jesus' pity is even more
plainly shown when he intervenes by a great miracle to relieve
temporary pangs of hunger : " I have compassion on " — or
better, "I feel pity for" — " the multitude, because they continue
with me now three days, and have nothing to eat: and if I
u W. Lutgert, Die Liebe im Neuen Testament, 1905, thinks it impor
tant to lay stress on this side of our Lord's love. " In the Synoptic
portrait of Christ the trait which stands out most clearly is the love of
Jesus. He not only commanded love, but first himself practiced it.
It is not merely his thought but his will, and not merely his will but above
all his deed. He therefore not only required it but aroused it. It
expresses itself accordingly not merely in his word, but in the first
instance in his act. Jesus' significance to the Synoptists does not
consist in his having discovered the command of love, but in his having
fulfilled it. For them Jesus is not a ' sage ' who teaches old truths or
new, but a doer, who brings the truth true, that is, acts it out" (p. 53).
" His love never remains a powerless wish, that is, an unsuccessful
willing, but it always succeeds. The working of Jesus is described
in the Gospels as almighty love" (p. 54). "Since his acts are really love,
they have primarily no other purpose but to help. Their motive is
nothing but the compassion of Jesus" (p. 56). Accordingly, Lutgert
insists, no cry to Jesus for help was ever made in vain: "Jesus acts
precisely according to his own command, Give to him that asketh thee "
(p. 55).
13 Render, not " he had ", but " he felt compassion ", to bring out the
emphasis on the " feeling ".

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 43
send them away fasting to their home, they will faint in the
way; and some of them are come from far" (Mk. viii. 2;
Mt. xv. 32 ) , — the only occasion on which Jesus is recorded as
testifying to his own feeling of pity. It was not merely the
physical ills of life, however, — want and disease and death, —
which called out our Lord's compassion. These ills were
rather looked upon by him as themselves rooted in spiritual
destitution. And it was this spiritual destitution which most
deeply moved his pity. The cause and the effects are indeed
very closely linked together in the narrative, and it is not always
easy to separate them. Thus we read in Mark vi. 34 : "And
he came forth and saw a great multitude, and he had com
passion on them " — better, " he felt pity for them ", — " because
they were as sheep not having a shepherd, and he taught them
many things." But in the parallel passage in Mt. xiv. 14,
we read : " And he came forth and saw a great multitude,
and he had compassion on" ("felt pity for") "them, and
he healed their sick." We must put the two passages
together to get a complete account: their fatal ignorance of
spiritual things, their evil case under the dominion of Satan
in all the effects of his terrible tyranny, are alike the object of
our Lord's compassion.14 In another passage (Mt. ix. 36) the
emphasis is thrown very distinctly on the spiritual destitution
of the people as the cause of his compassionate regard : " But
when he saw the multitude, he was moved with compassion
for them, because they were distressed and scattered, as sheep
not having a shepherd." This description of the spiritual
destitution of the people is cast in very strong language. They
are compared to sheep which have been worn out and torn by
running hither and thither through the thorns with none to
direct them, and have now fallen helpless and hopeless to the
"J. A. Alexander's note (on Mk. vi. 34, repeated verbally at Mt. ix. 36
and xiv. 14) is therefore too exolusive : " What excited his divine and
human sympathy was not, of course, their numbers or their physical
condition, but their spiritual destitution.'- It was both. Cf. Lutgert, as
above, p. 68 : " It is a characteristic trait of Jesus that he feels pity
not merely for the religious, but also for the external, need of the people
and that he acts out of this pity. The perfection of his love stands
precisely in this— that it is independent of gratitude. He helps to help."

44 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
ground.15 The sight of their desperate plight awakens our
Lord's pity and moves him to provide the remedy.
No other term is employed by the New Testament writers
directly to express our Lord's compassion.16 But we read
elsewhere of its manifestation in tears and sighs.17 The tears
which wet his cheeks18 when, looking upon the uncontrolled
grief of Mary and her companions, he advanced, with heart
swelling with indignation at the outrage of death, to the con
quest of the destroyer (Jno. xi. 35), were distinctly tears of
sympathy. Even more clearly, his own unrestrained wailing
over Jerusalem and its stubborn unbelief was the expression
of the most poignant pity : " O that thou hadst known in this
day, even thou, the things which belong unto peace " (Lk.
xix. 41 ) !19 The sight of suffering drew tears from his
eyes; obstinate unbelief convulsed him with uncontrollable
grief. Similarly when a man afflicted with dumbness and deaf
ness was brought to him for healing we are only told that he
" sighed " 20 (Mk. vii. 34) ; but when the malignant unbelief of
15 Cf. Plummer in loc: "A strong word (i<rKv\p.ivoi) is used to ex
press their distress. . . Originally it meant ' flayed ' or ' mangled ', but
became equivalent to ' harassed ' or ' vexed ' with weariness or worry. . .
' Scattered ' seems to suit shepherdless sheep, but it may be doubted if
this is the exact meaning of ippipJvoi . . . ' Prostrated ' seems to be
the meaning here."
le According to some commentators, <Tv\\vwoifuros at Mk. iii. 5 expresses
sympathetic compassion (so e. g. Meyer, Weiss, Morrison, J. B. Bristow,
art. " Pity " in DCG) ; see note 36. Some commentators also read
&ya06s, Mk. x. 18, of 'benevolence'; cf. k<£Xos, Jno. x. 11, 14.
11 Cf. James Stalker, Imago Christi, 1890, p. 303 . " He not only gave
the required help in such cases, but gave it with an amount of sympathy
which doubled its value. Thus, he not only raised Lazarus, but wept
with his sisters. In curing a man who was deaf, he sighed as he said
' Ephphatha '. All his healing work cost him feeling."
18 Aaicpiw, silent weeping : see Schmidt, Synonymik der griechischen
Sprache, I .1876, § 26, p. 470sq.
10 KXata, audible wailing: see Schmidt, as above. Cf. Hahn in loc:
"iicKavo-ev of the loud and violent wailing called out by an inner feeling
of pain. . . The contrast should be observed between the joyful out
cry of his disciples, and the inner feeling of Jesus whose spirit saw the
true situation of things, undeceived by appearances."
20 Zrevdfa, "pitying as I think", comments Fritzsche, "the calamities
of the human race " and so Euth. Zig., Grotius, Meyer. On the other

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD

45

the Pharisees was brought home to him he " sighed from the
bottom of his heart " (Mk. viii: 12 ).21 " Obstinate sin ", com
ments Swete appropriately, " drew from Christ a deeper sigh
than the sight of suffering (Lk. vii. 34 and cf. Jno. xiii. 20), a
sigh in which anger and sorrow both had a part (iii. 4
note)." 22 We may, at any rate, place the loud wailing over
the stubborn unbelief of Jerusalem and the deep sighing over
the Pharisees' determined opposition side by side as exhibitions
of the profound pain given to our Lord's sympathetic heart, by
those whose persistent rejection of him required at his hands
his sternest reprobation. He " sighed from the bottom of his
heart " when he declared, " There shall no sign be given this
generation " ; he wailed aloud when he announced, " The days
shall come upon thee when thine enemies shall dash thee to the
ground." It hurt Jesus to hand over even hardened sinners
to their doom.
It hurt Jesus, — because Jesus' prime characteristic was love,
and love is the foundation of compassion. How close to one
another the two emotions of love and compassion lie, may be
taught us by the only instance in which the emotion of love is
attributed to Jesus in the Synoptics (Mk. x. 21). Here we
are told that Jesus, looking upon the rich young ruler, "loved"23
him, and said to him, " One thing thou lackest." It is not the
" love of complacency " which is intended, but the " love of
benevolence " ; that is to say, it is the love, not so much that
finds good, as that intends good, — though we may no
doubt allow that " love of compassion is never " — let us rather
say, " seldom " — " absolutely separated from love of approba
tion " ;24 that is to say, there is ordinarily some good to be found
hand, DeWette, Weiss, Lagrange think the sigh, a sigh not of sympathy
but of prayer (Rom. viii. 23, 26).
21 ' Avao-revdfa, intensive form, here only in the N. T., but found in LXX .
" The Lord's human spirit ", comments Swete, " was stirred to its depths."
M " In both cases '', Swete (on Mk. vii. 34) suggests, " perhaps the vast
difficulty and long delays of the remedial work were borne in upon our
Lord's human spirit in an especial manner."
23 "Hyd-irqae. On the words for "love" see Schmidt, Synonymik, etc.
III. 1879 ; § 136, pp. 474SQ ; iyavda, pp. 482sq.
21 Morrison in loc. Cf . Lutgert, as cited, p. 59 : " According to the
Gospels, therefore, Jesus loves the needy. When Wernle maintains that

46 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
already in those upon whom we fix our benevolent regard. The
heart of our Saviour turned yearningly to the rich young man
and longed to do him good; and this is an emotion, we say,
which, especially in the circumstances depicted, is not far from
simple compassion.25
It is characteristic of John's Gospel that it goes with simple
directness always to the bottom of things. Love lies at the
bottom of compassion. And love is attributed to Jesus only
once in the Synoptics, but compassion often ; while with John the
contrary is true — compassion is attributed to Jesus not even
once, but love often. This love is commonly the love of com
passion, or, rather, let us broaden it now and say, the love of
the Evangelists have shown us a Christ who leads his life 'in joy over
nature and good men' (p. 63), this conception of Christ contradicts the
earnestness of the Gospels through and through : it is precisely the charac
teristic of the Gospels that the motive of Jesus' love according to them,
so far as it lies in men, is in the first instance negative. The people
called out his compassion (Mt. ix. 36). Jesus' love does not have the
character of admiration, but simply of compassion. It is not delight, but
deed, gift, help. It required therefore a needy recipient. But the love of
Jesus to the people has also a positive motive, which is, however, no
where expressed, — that is, pleasure in their good." Cf. what Lutgert
says, pp. 92sq., of the coexistence with Jesus' love of hale, directed to
all that is evil in men.
25 The negative side of the exposition is stated very well by Wohl-
enberg in loc: " It would contradict fundamental elements of Jesus'
preaching if those were right who hold that Jesus was inwardly of the
young man's mind, and, looking upon him, conceived an affection for him,
precisely because he had already made so much progress in keeping the
divine commandments, and showed himself burning with enthusiasm
for undertaking more. And how would this harmonize with what is
afterwards said in verses 23 and 24sq. "... The positive side is given
excellently by J. A. Alexander in loc: "Most probably, love, as in many
other places, here denotes not moral approbation, nor affection founded
upon anything belonging to the object, but a sovereign and gratuitous
compassion, such as leads to every act of mercy on God's part (compare
Jno. iii. 16; Gal. ii. 20; Eph. ii. 4; 1 Jno. iv. 10, 19). The sense will then
be, not that Jesus loved him on account of what he said, or what he was,
or what he did, but that, having purposes of mercy towards him, he
proceeded to unmask him to himself, and to show him how entirely
groundless, although probably sincere, was his claim to have habitually
kept the law. The Saviour's love is then mentioned, not as the effect
of what precedes, but as the ground or motive of what follows."

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD

47

benevolence ; but sometimes it is the love of sheer delight in its
object. Love to God is, of course, the love of pure compla
cency. We are surprised to note that Jesus' love to God is
only once explicitly mentioned (Jno. xiv. 31); but in this
single mention it is set before us as the motive of his entire
saving work and particularly of his offering of himself up.
The time of his offering is at hand, and Jesus explains : " I
will no more speak much with you, for the prince of this
world cometh ; and he hath nothing in me ; but [I yield myself
to him] that the world may know that I love the Father, and
as the Father gave me commandment, even so I do." 26 The
motive of Jesus' earthly life and death is more commonly pre
sented as love for sinful men; here it is presented as loving
obedience to God. He had come to do the will of the Father ;
and because he loved the Father, his will he will do, up to the
bitter end. He declares his purpose to be, under the impulse
of love, " obedience up to death, yea, the death of the cross."
The love for man which moved Jesus to come to his succor
in his sin and misery was, of course, the love of benevolence.
It finds its culminating expression in the great words of Jno.
xv. 13 : " Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay
down his life for his friends : ye are my friends, if ye do the
things which I command you "27 — rather an illuminating defin
ition of ' friends ', by the way, especially when it is followed
by : " Ye did not choose me but I chose you and appointed
you that ye should go and bear fruit." " Friends ", it is clear,
in this definition, are rather those who are loved than those who
love. This culminating expression of his love for his own, by
which he was sustained in his great mission of humiliation for
them, is supported, however, by repeated declarations of it in
the immediate and wider context. In the immediately preceding
verses, for example, it is urged as the motive and norm of the
love — spring of obedience — which he seeks from his disciples :
" Herein in my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit ; and
so shall ye be my disciples. Even as my Father hath loved me,
26 For the construction, see Westcott in loc The term is, of course,
dyairdw. 27 The term is dydrri — although its correlative is oi <p[\oi.

48 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
I also have loved you : abide ye in my love. If ye keep my
commandments ye shall abide in my love ; even as I have kept
my Father's commandments, and abide in his love. These
things have I spoken unto you, that my joy may be in you and
that your joy may be fulfilled. This is my commandment, that
ye love one another, even as I have loved you " (Jno. xv. 8-12).
As his love to the Father was the source of his obedience
to the Father, and the living spring of his faithfulness to the
work which had been committed to him, so he declares that
the love of his followers to him, imitating and reproducing
his love to them, is to be the source of their obedience to him,
and through that, of all the good that can come to human
beings, including, as the highest reach of social perfection,
their love for one another. Self-sacrificing love is thus
made the essence of the Christian life, and is referred
for its incentive to the self-sacrificing love of Christ
himself : Christ's followers are to "have the same mind
in them which was also in Christ Jesus." The posses
sive pronouns throughout this passage — " abide in my love ",
" in my love ", " in his (the Father's) love " — are all subjec
tive :28 so that throughout the whole, it is the love which Christ
bears his people which is kept in prominent view as the im
pulse and standard of the love he asks from his people. This
love had already been adverted to more than once in the
wider context (xiii. 1, 1, 34, xiv. 21) in the same spirit in
which it is here spoken of. Its greatness is celebrated : he not
only " loved his own which were in the world ", but " loved
them utterly " (xiii. 1).29 It is presented as the model for the
23 Cf. Meyer in loc: "The dyd-irq 1) trf is not love to me, but: my
love to you, as is clear from irydirrio-a. ip.S.s and from the analogy of
17 x<V» V tvb verse 11, cf. verses 12, 13." This instance carries the
others with it. Westcott, if we understand him, wishes to take this
phrase undifferentiatedly as including both the subjective and objective
senses : " The meaning of the words cannot be limited to the idea of
Christ's love for men, or to that of man's love for Christ: they describe
the absolute love which is manifested in these two ways, the love which
perfectly corresponds with Christ's being." " His love ", he apparently
takes objectively, of love to God.
20 Westcott: "to the uttermost": so Godet, etc. Lutgert, as cited, p.
154 note: "els ri\os means, not 'until the end' but 'to the utmost', abso-

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 49
imitation of those who would live a Christian life on earth:
" even as I have loved you " (xiii. 34). It is propounded as
the Christian's greatest reward : " and I will love him and man
ifest myself unto him " (xiv. 21).
The emotion of love as attributed to Jesus in the narrative
of John is not confined, however, to these great movements —
his love to his Father which impelled him to fulfil all his
Father's will in the great work of redemption and his love
for those whom, in fulfilment of his Father's will, he had
chosen to be the recipients of his saving mercy, laying down
his life for them. There are attributed to him also those
common movements of affection which bind man to man in the
ties of friendship. We hear of particular individuals whom
"Jesus loved ", the meaning obviously being that his heart
knit itself to theirs in a simple human fondness. The term
employed to express this friendship is prevailingly that high
term which designates a love that is grounded in admiration
and fulfils itself in esteem ;30 but the term which carries with it
only the notion of personal inclination and delight is not
shunned.31 We are given to understand that there was a par
ticular one of our Lord's most intimate circle of disciples on
whom he especially poured out his personal affection. This
disciple came to be known, as, by way of eminence, " the dis
ciple whom Jesus loved," though there are subtle suggestions
lutely; cf. 1 Thess. ii. 16; Lk. xviii. 5, and besides the parallels from
Hermas adduced by Julicher, Gleichnisreden Jesu, II. p. 282, also Barnabas
iv. 6, eis tAos dir&Keffav atn-ffv and xix. II, els tAm p.urrfo-eis t&v irovr\pbv.
Therefore John too has the conception of complete, purified love."
In the text he had written : " The word xiii. 1 is a parallel to xii. 28.
According to the one word the life of Jesus hitherto is described as a
glorification of God, according to the other as love to his people. The
love which he practiced in his death, the Apostle places by the side
of the love which he had hitherto practiced: on the other hand it is dis
tinguished from his love hitherto as an especial, new manifestation of
love. By the love which he practiced in his death, he loved them to the
uttermost. Now his love is become an absolute, purified love, for his
love first becomes absolute when he gives his soul. The death of Jesus
serves therefore for John not only as the last and highest proof of his
love, but as its perfecting."
** ' Ayairia : xi. 5, xiii. 23, xix. 26, xxi. 7, 20. Cf. Mk. x. 21.
31 $ihiu> : xi. 3, 36, xx. 2.

50 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
that the phrase must not be taken in too exclusive a sense.32
Both terms, the more elevated and the more intimate, are
employed to express Jesus' love for him.33 The love of Jesus
for the household at Bethany and especially for Lazarus, is
also expressly intimated to us, and it also by both terms, —
though the more intimate one is tactfully confined to his affec
tion for Lazarus himself. The message which the sisters
sent Jesus is couched in the language of the warmest personal
attachment : " Behold, he whom thou lovest is sick " ; and
the sight of Jesus' tears calls from the witnessing Jews an ex
clamation which recognizes in him the tenderest personal feel
ing : " Behold, how he loved him ! " But when the Evangelist
widens Jesus' affection to embrace the sisters also, he instinc
tively lifts the term employed to the more deferential expres
sion of friendship : " Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister,
and Lazarus." Jesus' affection for Mary and Martha, while
deep and close, had nothing in it of an amatory nature, and
the change in the term avoids all possibility of such a miscon
ception.34 Meanwhile, we perceive our Lord the subject of those
natural movements of affection which bind the members of
society together in bonds of close fellowship. He was as far
as possible from insensibility to the pleasures of social inter
course (cf. Mt. xi. 19) and the charms of personal attractive
ness. He had his mission to perform, and he chose his ser
vants with a view to the performance of his mission. The rela
tions of the flesh gave way in his heart to the relations of the
spirit : " whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in
heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother" (Mt. xii.
82 Jno. xx. 2, not " the disciple whom Jesus loved ", but " the other disciple
whom Jesus loved." Jesus loved both Peter and John. Cf. Westcott in
loc Hence Westcott says (on xiii. 23) that the phrase "the disciple
whom Jesus loved", "marks an acknowledgment of love and not an
exclusive enjoyment of love."
83 'Ayairdu: xiii. 23, xix. 26, xxi. 7, 20; <pCKiw. xx. 2.
M Cf. Meyer on Jno. xi. 5 : " ^ydira : an expression chosen with deli
cate tenderness (the more sensuous (pi\ew is not again used as in verse
4), because the sisters are mentioned": and Westcott: "The Evangelist
describes the Lord's affection for this family as that of moral choice
(i/yd-ira. . . )."

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 51
50) and it is " those who do the things which he commands
them" whom he calls his " friends " (Jno. xv. 14). But he
had also the companions of his human heart : those to whom
his affections turned in a purely human attachment. His
heart was open and readily responded to the delights of
human association, and bound itself to others in a happy fel
lowship.35 II.
The moral sense is not a mere faculty of discrimination be
tween the qualities which we call right and wrong, which ex
hausts itself in their perception as different. The judgments it
passes are not merely intellectual, but what we call moral
judgments; that is to say, they involve approval and disap
proval according to the qualities perceived. It would be
impossible, therefore, for a moral being to stand in the presence
of perceived wrong indifferent and unmoved. Precisely what
we mean by a moral being is a being perceptive of the dif
ference between right and wrong and reacting appropriately to
right and wrong perceived as such. The emotions of indignation
and anger belong therefore to the very self-expression of a
moral being as such and cannot be lacking to him in the pres
ence of wrong. We should know, accordingly, without in
struction that Jesus, living in the conditions of this earthly life
under the curse of sin, could not fail to be the subject of the
whole series of angry emotions, and we are not surprised that
even in the brief and broken narratives of his life-experiences
which have been given to us, there have been preserved records
of the manifestation in word and act of not a few of them.
It is interesting to note in passing that it is especially in the
Gospel of Mark, which rapid and objective as it is in its nar
rative, is the channel through which has been preserved to us
a large part of the most intimate of the details concerning our
Lord's demeanor and traits which have come down to us, that
we find these records.
It is Mark, for instance, who tells us explicitly (iii. 5) that
the insensibility of the Jews to human suffering exhibited in
85 Cf. Mt. xi. 19, Lk. vii. 34 (xii. 4), Jno. xi. 11 (xv. 14, 15).

52 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
a tendency to put ritual integrity above humanity, filled Jesus
with indignant anger. A man whose hand had withered, met
with in the synagogue one Sabbath, afforded a sort of test-
case. The Jews treated it as such and " watched Jesus whether
he would heal him on the Sabbath day, that they might accuse
him." Jesus accepted the challenge. Commanding the man
to " rise in the midst " of the assemblage, he put to them
the searching question, generalizing the whole case : " Is it law
ful to do good or to do evil on the Sabbath, to save life or to
kill? " " But ", says the narrative, " they kept silent." Then
Jesus' anger rose : " he looked around at them with anger,
being grieved at the hardness of their heart." What is meant
is, not that his anger was modified by grief, his reprobation
of the hardness of their hearts was mingled with a sort of
sympathy for men sunk in such a miserable condition. What
is meant is simply that the spectacle of their hardness of heart
produced in him the deepest dissatisfaction, which passed
into angry resentment.36 Thus the fundamental psychology of
anger is curiously illustrated by this account ; for anger always
has pain at its root, and is a reaction of the soul against what
gives it discomfort.37 The hardness of the Jews' heart, vividly
realized, hurt Jesus; and his anger rose in repulsion of the
cause of his pain. There are thus two movements of feeling
brought before us here. There is the pain which the gross
manifestation of the hardness of heart of the Jews inflicted on
Jesus. And there is the strong reaction of indignation which
sprang out of this pain. The term by which the former feel
ing is expressed has at its basis the simple idea of pain, and is
30 The preposition in the participle <rvKKviro6nevos merely emphasizes the
inwardness of the emotion (Thayer-Grimm, Lexicon, etc. sub voc <rii</,
ii. 4). Cf. Fritsche in loc: "Beza and Rosenmiiller have properly seen
that the preposition <riv is not without force. But their interpretation:
' when he had looked indignantly about him at the same time grieving,
etc' would require 8, p. a \vvoip.evos and does not render the force of
a v X \moip.evos . We have no doubt, therefore, that the preposition aiv,
should be referred to the mind of Jesus, i. e., ' when he had looked
about him with anger, grieving in his mind . . he said ' "
37 "It is" says James Denney (DCG., I. p. 60) justly, "the vehement
repulsion of that which hurts."

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 53
used in the broadest way of every kind of pain, whether phys
ical or mental, emphasizing, however, the sensation itself,
rather than its expression.38 It is employed here appropriately,
in a form which throws an emphasis on the inwardness of the
feeling, of the discomfort of heart produced in Jesus by the
sight of man's inhumanity to man. The expression of this
discomfort was in the angry look which he swept over the
unsympathetic assemblage. It is not intimated that the pain
was abiding, the anger evanescent. The glance in which the
anger was manifested is represented as fleeting in contrast
with the pain of which the anger was the expression. But the
term used for this anger is just the term for abiding resent
ment, set on vengeance.39 Precisely what is ascribed to Jesus,
then, in this passage is that indignation at wrong, perceived as
such, wishing and intending punishment to the wrong-doer,
which forms the core of what we call vindicatory justice.40
33 See Schmidt, Synonymik etc. II, 1878, § 83.14, pp. s88sq. Trench,
Synonyms of the New Testament1 1871, p. 224: "This \Aitt), unlike the
grief which the three following words [ TrevBe'ai, (pprivtw, k6ttco ] express,
a man may so entertain in the deep of his heart, that there shall be no
outward manifestation of it, unless he himself be pleased to reveal it
(Rom. ix. 2)."
39 See Schmidt, as above III, 1879, § 142 : dpyij is " wrath (Zorn) as
it is directed to punishment or vengeance" (p. 512) ; "dpyv stands in
closer relation to the vengeance which is to be inflicted than SvpAs " (p.
553) » " 't accordingly can be nothing else than the violently outbreaking
natural impulse, uncontrolled by the reason, which we call by the word
' wrath ' (Zorn) ; and the idea that such an impulse seeks its end, and
therefore the thought of vengeance or punishment which this impulse seeks
to wreak on the guilty one, lies close" (p. 555). Cf. Trench, p. 124. Lut
gert, as cited, pp. 96, 99, is careful to point out that Jesus' anger is never
personal, and never passes into revengeful feelings on his own behalf.
" Cf. " the wrath of the Lamb " Rev. vi. 16. Thomas Goodwin ( Works,
IV. p. 144) wishes us to understand that when such emotional movements
are attributed to the Exalted Christ, they have their full quality as human
emotions, affecting the whole Christ body as well as spirit. " Therefore,
whenas we read of the ' wrath of the Lamb ', as Rev. vi. 16, namely,
against his enemies, as here of his pity and compassion towards his
friends and members, why should this be attributed only to his deity, which
is not capable of wrath, or to his soul and spirit only? And why may it
not be thought he is truly angry as a man, in the whole man, and so with
such a wrath as his body is afflicted with, as well as that he is wrathful in

54 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
This is a necessary reaction of every moral being against per
ceived wrong.
On another occasion Mark (x. 14) pictures Jesus to us as
moved by a much lighter form of the emotion of anger. His
disciples, — doubtless with a view to protecting him from need
less drafts upon his time and strength, — interfered with cer
tain parents, who were bringing to him their babies (Lk.
xviii. 15) "that he should touch them". Jesus saw their
action, and, we are told, " was moved with indignation." The
term employed here41 expresses, originally, physical (such, for
example, as is felt by a teething child), and then mental (Mt.
xx. 24, xxi. 15, xxvi. 8; Mk. x. 41, xiv. 4; Lk. xiii. 14, cf. 2
Cor. vii. 11) " irritation ". Jesus was " irritated ", or perhaps
we may better render, was " annoyed ", " vexed ", at his disci
ples. And (so the term also suggests) he showed his annoy
ance, — whether by gesture or tone or the mere shortness of
his speech : " Let the children come to me ; forbid them not !" 42
Thus we see Jesus as he reacts with anger at the spectacle
of inhumanity, so reacting with irritation at the spectacle of
blundering misunderstanding, however well-meant.
Yet another phase of angry emotion is ascribed to Jesus by
Mark, but in this case not by Mark alone. Mark (xiv. 3)
tells us that on healing a leper, Matthew (ix. 30) that on
healing two blind men, Jesus " straitly ", " strictly ", " sternly ",
" charged " them, — as our English versions struggle with the
term, in an attempt to make it describe merely the tone and
manner of his injunction to the beneficiaries of his healing
power, not to tell of the cures wrought upon them. This term,43
his soul only, seeing he hath taken up our whole nature, on purpose to
subserve his divine nature in all the executions of it?"
" 'AyavaKTta: see Schmidt, Synonymik etc. Ill, 1879, pp. 360-562 :
' AyavaKreiv and dyavdnT-tiaix designate, to wit, the displeasure (Unwillen)
which we feel at an act in which we see a wrong (Unrecht) or which
outrages our human sentiment and feeling" (p. 561). "Jesus" com
ments Lagrange in loc " was irritated by their hardness."
42 Swete in loc : " We hear the Lord's indignant call, as it startles the
disciples in the act of dismissing the party."
43 ''Ep.ppip.dop.at : see especially the detailed discussion of this word
by Fr. Gumlich in the Theologische Studien und Kritiken, 1862, pp. 260-
269. "It is, now, exegetically certain that Jesus here (Jno. xi. 33) was

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD

55

however, does not seem to mean, in its ordinary usage, to
" charge ", to " enjoin ", however straitly or strictly, but
simply to " be angry at ", or, since it commonly implies
that the anger is great, to " be enraged with ", or, perhaps
better still, since it usually intimates that the anger is
expressed by audible signs, to " rage against ". If we are
to take it in its customary sense, therefore, what we are
really told in these passages is that Jesus, " when he had raged
against the leper, sent him away " ; that " he raged against
the blind men, saying, ' See that no one know it!' ' If
this rage is to be supposed (with our English versions) to
have expressed itself only in the words recorded, the meaning
would not be far removed from that of the English word
"bluster" in its somewhat rare transitive use, as, for example,
when an old author writes : "He meant to bluster all princes
into perfect obedience." 44 The implication of boisterousness,
and indeed of empty noise, which attends the English word,
however, is quite lacking from the Greek, the rage expressed by
which is always thought of as very real. What it has in com
mon with "bluster " is thus merely its strong minatory import.
The Vulgate Latin accordingly cuts the knot by rendering it
simply " threatened ", and is naturally followed in this by
angry. Only this, open and vehement anger, and no other meaning be
longs philologically to ip.fspip.S.aeai"(p. 260, opening the discussion). "From
what has been said, it is sufficiently clear that, 1) pptpua, just like fremo
always expresses, transferred to man, nothing but the active affection of
anger, never ' a general [mental movement]', least of all ' sorrow '; 2) that
moreover Pplp-ri and its frequentatively heightened and yet at the same
time interiorizing ( iv) intensive ip-ppipJurBai, expresses only a strong,
or the strongest degree of wrath, which, precisely on account of this
strength being incapable of being held in, breaks out externally, but still
gives vent to itself rather in uncontrollable sound than words " (pp. 265-6,
closing the discussion). Cf. p. 209: "''Ep.fSpip.S.o-dai designates primarily
a single emotion, and this one is a vehement ebullition of his anger, a
real infremere." Cf. Meyer on Jno. xi. 33 : " The words PptpAopju
and ifj.fi pip.dop.at are never used otherwise than of hot anger in the
Classics, the Septuagint, and the New Testament (Mt. ix. 30; Mk. i. 43,
xiv. 5), save when they denote snorting or growling proper (Aeschyl,
Sept. 461, Lucean, Necyom. 20."
"Fuller (Webster), about 1601, cited in The Oxford Dictionary of the
English Language, I. 951, where other citations also are given.

56 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
those English versions (Wycliffe, Rheims) which depend on
it.45 Certainly Jesus is represented here as taking up a men
acing attitude, and threatening words are placed on his lips:
" See that thou say nothing to any man," " See that no one
know it " — a form of speech which always conveys a threat.46
But " threaten " can scarcely be accepted as an adequate render
ing of the term whether in itself or in these contexts. When
Matthew tells us "And he was enraged at them, saying . . ."
the rage may no doubt be thought to find its outlet in the threat
ening words which follow :47 but the implication of Mark is
different : " And raging at him ", or " having raged at him "
— " he straightway sent him forth." When it is added : " And
saith to him, ' See that thou say nothing to any one ' " a subse
quent moment in the transaction is indicated.48 How our Lord's
rage was manifested, we are not told. And this is really just
as true in the case of Matthew as in that of Mark. To say,
"he was enraged at them, saying (threatening words)," is
not to say merely, " he threatened them " : it is to say that a
threat was uttered and that this threat was the suitable accom
paniment of his rage.
The cause of our Lord's anger does not lie on the surface
in either case. The commentators seem generally inclined to
account for it by supposing that Jesus foresaw that his injunc-
45 Certain late grammarians (see Stephens' Thesaurus sub. voc. ipt3pt..
p.£ur$ai and fipipiopai) define ftpipAoixai "to threaten"; and some of the
lexicographers do the like : Hesychius for example defines fiplpt-ii as
" threat ", and Suidas iiifipipuio-eat itself as " to speak with anger and
to blame with harshness ", the latter part of which is repeated in the
Etym. Mag. A scholiast on Aristophanes, Eq. 855 defines j3pip.S.<r6ai as
" to be angry and to threaten ".
46 Mt. viii. 4, ix. 30, xviii. 10, xxiv. 6; Mk. i. 44; 1 Thess. v. 15; Rev.
xix. 10, xxii. 9 only.
47 So that Zahni (on Mt. ix. 30, p. 385) is misled into explaining: "He
admonished them in a menacing tone." Something more than this is said.
"Meyer on Mk. i. 43 quite accurately connects the ip.ppip.Tio-dnevos atrip
with QitSaKev only, translating : " after he had been angry at him,"
though he supposes the it-ifiaKev to have been accompanied by " a vehement
begone now! away hence!" and accordingly arbitrarily paraphrases the ip.-
f}ptp.-n<rdnevos " wrathfully addressed him." On Mt. ix. 30 he accurately
translates : "He was displeased with them, and said."

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 57
tion of silence would be disregarded.49 But this explanation,
little natural in itself, seems quite unsuitable to the narrative in
Mark where we are told, not that Jesus angrily enjoined the
leper to silence, but that he angrily sent him away. Others
accordingly seek the ground of his anger in something dis
pleasing to him in the demeanor of the applicants for
his help, in their mode of approaching or addressing him,
in erroneous conceptions with which they were animated, and
the like. Klostermann imagines that our Lord did not feel
that miraculous healings lay in the direct line of his vocation,
and was irritated because he had been betrayed by his com
passion into undertaking them. Volkmar goes the length of
supposing that Jesus resented the over-reverential form of the
address of the leper to him, on the principle laid down in Rev.
xix. 10, " See thou do it not : I am a fellow-servant with thee."
Even Keil suggests that Jesus was angry with the blind men
because they addressed him openly as " Son of David ", not
wishing " this untimely proclamation of him as Messiah on
the part of those who held him as such only on account of his
miracles." It is more common to point out some shortcoming
in the applicants : they did not approach him with sufficient
reverence or with sufficient knowledge of the true nature of
his mission ; they demanded their cure too much as a matter of
course, or too much as if from a mere marvel-monger ; and in
the case of the leper at least, with too little regard to their own
obligations. A leper should not approach a stranger; certain
ly he should not ask or permit a stranger to put his hand upon
him ; especially should he not approach a stranger in the streets
49 J. A. Alexander, in Mt. ix. 30, puts this view in its most attractive
form : " It can only mean a threatening in case of disobedience, charg
ing them on pain of his serious displeasure and disapprobation." It
comes to the same thing when Westcott (on Jno. xi. 33) says : " There is
the notion of coercion springing out of displeasure." Cf. Morrison :
"Peremptorily charged them" (Mk. i. 43); Zahn: "He enjoined them
in a menacing tone" (Mt. ix. 30). Others, of course, transfer the matter
from Christ to the Evangelists ; thus even Weiss can write (on Mt. ix. 39) :
" Perhaps the Evangelist is thinking with respect to this ebullition of the
resultlessness of such prohibitions, which is so strongly emphasized by
Mark (cf. vii. 36)."

58 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
of a city (Lk. v. 12) and very particularly not in a house (Mk.
i. 43: "He put him out"), above all if it were, as it might
well be here, a private house. That Jesus was indignant at such
gross disregard of law was natural and fully explains his
vehemence in driving the leper out and sternly admonishing
him to go and fulfil the legal requirements.50 This variety of
explanation is the index of the slightness of the guidance given
in the passages themselves to the cause of our Lord's anger;
but it can throw no doubt upon the fact of that anger, which is
directly asserted in both instances and must not be obscured by
attributing to the term by which it is expressed some lighter
significance.51 The term employed declares that Jesus ex
hibited vehement anger, which was audibly manifested.52 This
50 Three or four such comments on Mk. i. 43 as the following, when
read consecutively, are instructive. Weiss : " But obviously Mark thinks
of the healing as taking place in a house (i%ipd\ev), perhaps, according
to the connection with verse 39, in a synagogue. Entrance into the house
of another was, no doubt, forbidden to lepers, according to Lev. xiii. 46
cf. Num. v. 2 (see Ewald on the passages, and Alterth. p. 180), but
not altogether access to the synagogues : in any case the resort of the
people to Jesus and his healing of the sick broke through the restrictions
of the law, and from this also is explicable Jesus' demeanor of haste
and vehemence." Wohlenberg : " After or with the manifestation of
vehement anger, Jesus sends the man forthwith away (<!£<?/3aXex) from
his presence . . . and nothing indicates that Mark conceived the
occurrence to have taken place in a house. An intensely angry emotion
was exhibited by Jesus towards the healed man, because he observed
in him a false and perverse idea of the transaction." Keil : " The
occasion, however, of the angry expulsion of the healed man, we cer
tainly are not to seek in the leper's breach of the law through entering
the house of another (Lev. xiii. 46 cf.. Num. v. 2) but chiefly in his
state of mind " . . Edersheim (Life and Times, etc., I. 496) : " This
['cast him out'], however, as Godet has shown (Comm. on St. Luke,
German trans, p. 137), does not imply that the event took place either in
a house or in a town, as most commentators suppose. It is, to say
the least, strange that the Speaker's Commentary, following Weiss,
should have located it in a synagogue! It could not possibly have oc
curred there, unless all Jewish ordinances and customs had been re
versed." 01 As e. g. Lagrange on Mk. i. 43: " -Ep.pPipAoiMu (again xiv. 5; Mt
ix. 30; Jno. xi. 33, 38) cannot mean anger here, but only a certain
severity. Jesus speaks in a tone which does not admit of reply."
"Zahn on Mt. ix. 30 (p. 385) reminds us that the word suggests "the

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 59
anger did not inhibit, however, the operation of his compas
sion (Mk. i. 41 ; Mt. ix. 27) but appears in full manifestation
as its accompaniment. This may indicate that its cause lay
outside the objects of his compassion, in some general fact
the nature of which we may possibly learn from other instances.
The same term occurs again in John's narrative of our
Lord's demeanor at the grave of his beloved friend Lazarus
(Jno. xi. 33, 38). When Jesus saw Mary weeping — or rather
" wailing ", for the term is a strong one and implies the vocal
expression of the grief53 — and the Jews which accompanied her
also " wailing ", we are told, as our English version puts it, that
" he groaned in the spirit and was troubled " ; and again, when
some of the Jews, remarking on his own manifestation of
grief in tears, expressed their wonder that he who had opened
the eyes of the blind man could not have preserved Lazarus
from death, we are told that Jesus " again groaned in him
self." The natural suggestion of the word " groan " is, how
ever, that of pain or sorrow, not disapprobation ; and this ren
dering of the term in question is therefore misleading. It is
better rendered in the only remaining passage in which it
occurs in the New Testament, Mk. xiv. 5, by " murmured ",
though this is much too weak a word to reproduce its impli
cations. In that passage it is brought into close connection
with a kindred term54 which determines its meaning. We read:
" But there were some that had indignation among them
selves . . . and they murmured against her." Their feeling
of irritated displeasure expressed itself in an outburst of tem
per. The margin of our Revised Version at Jno. xi. 33, 38,
therefore, very properly proposes that we should for
" groaned " in these passages, substitute " moved with indigna
tion ", although that phrase too is scarcely strong enough.
What John tells us, in point of fact, is that Jesus approached
audible expression of wrath ". Cf. Mk. xiv. 4-5 where we are told
that "there were some that had indignation (dyavaKroOvres ), among
themselves — and they murmured (ii>ePptp.G>vro) against her". The inward
emotion is expressed by ayavaKriia, its manifestation in audible form by
ifj.Ppifj.dofj.aL. 03 See above, note 19; and cf. Gumlich, TSK, 1862, p. 258.
'"*' Ayavanrtoj : see above, notes 41 and 52.

60 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
the grave of Lazarus, in a state, not of uncontrollable grief,
but of irrepressible anger. He did respond to the spectacle
of human sorrow abandoning itself to its unrestrained expres
sion, with quiet, sympathetic tears: "Jesus wept" (verse
36 ).55 But the emotion which tore his breast and clamored
for utterance was just rage. The expression even of this rage,
however, was strongly curbed. The term which John employs
to describe it is, as we have seen, a definitely external term.56
" He raged." But John modifies its external sense by an
nexed qualifications : " He raged in spirit," " raging in him
self." He thus interiorizes the term and gives us to under
stand that the ebullition of Jesus' anger expended itself within
him. Not that there was no manifestation of it : it must have
been observable to be observed and recorded;57 it formed a
marked feature of the occurrence as seen and heard.58 But
John gives us to understand that the external expression of our
Lord's fury was markedly restrained : its manifestation fell
far short of its real intensity. He even traces for us the move
ments of his inward struggle: "Jesus, therefore, when he
saw her wailing, and the Jews that had come with her wail
ing, was enraged in spirit and troubled himself " 59 . . . and
wept. His inwardly restrained fury produced a profound agi
tation of his whole being, one of the manifestations of which
was tears.
Why did the sight of the wailing of Mary and her com
panions enrage Jesus? Certainly not because of the extreme
violence of its expression ; and even more certainly not because
it argued unbelief — unwillingness to submit to God's providen-
M Aanpioj (not K\atio as in verse 33) : see above, note 18.
"' See above : note 43.
S7 So Hengstenberg, in particular, and many after him.
58 John Hutchison, The Monthly Interpreter, 1885, II. p. 286: "A
storm of wrath was seen to sweep over him."
69 Kai irdpa&v iavrbv . Many commentators insist on the voluntari
ness of Jesus' emotion, expressed by this phrase. Thus John Hutchison,
as above, p. 288 : " It was an act of his own free will, not a passion
hurrying him on, but a voluntarily assumed state of feeling which
remained under his direction and control. . . In a word there was no
draila in it." For the necessary limitations of this view see Calvin
on this passage. Cf. Lutgert as cited, p. 145.

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 6l
fial ordering or distrust of Jesus' power to save. He himself
wept, if with less violence yet in true sympathy with the grief
of which he was witness. The intensity of his exasperation,
moreover, would be disproportionate to such a cause ; and the
importance attached to it in the account bids us seek its ground
in something less incidental to the main drift of the narrative.
It is mentioned twice, and is obviously emphasized as an indis
pensable element in the development of the story, on which, in
its due place and degree, the lesson of the incident hangs. The
spectacle of the distress of Mary and her companions enraged
Jesus because it brought poignantly home to his consciousness
the evil of death, its unnaturalness, its " violent tyranny " as
Calvin (on verse 38) phrases it. In Mary's grief, he " contem
plates " — still to adopt Calvin's words (on verse 33), — "the
general misery of the whole human race " and burns with
rage against the oppressor of men. Inextinguishable fury
seizes upon him; his whole being is discomposed and per
turbed ; and his heart, if not his lips, cries out, —
" For the innumerable dead
Is my soul disquieted." 60
It is death that is the object of his wrath, and behind death
him who has the power of death, and whom he has come into
the world to destroy. Tears of sympathy may fill his eyes,
but this is incidental. His soul is held by rage: and he ad
vances to the tomb, in Calvin's words again, " as a champion
who prepares for conflict." The raising of Lazarus thus be
comes, not an isolated marvel, but — as indeed it is presented
throughout the whole narrative (compare especially, verses
24-26) — a decisive instance and open symbol of Jesus' con
quest of death and hell. What John does for us in this par
ticular statement is to uncover to us the heart of Jesus, as he
wins for us our salvation. Not in cold unconcern, but in flam-
80 Cf. John Hutchison, as above, p. 375 : " He was gazing into ' the
skeleton face of the world ', and tracing everywhere the reign of death.
The whole earth to him was but ' the valley of the shadow of death ',
and in these tears which were shed in his presence, he saw that
' Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe,
Are brackish with the salt of human tears '."

62 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
ing wrath against the foe, Jesus smites in our behalf. He has
not only saved us from the evils which oppress us; he has
felt for and with us in our oppression, and under the impulse
of these feelings has wrought out our redemption.61
There is another term which the Synoptic Gospels employ
to describe our Lord's dealing with those he healed (Mt. xii.
16), which is sometimes rendered by our English versions — as
the term we have just been considering is rendered in similar
connections (Mk. i. 43; Mt. ix. 30) — by "charged" (Mt. xii.
16, xvi. 20; Mk. iii. 12, viii. 30, ix. 21) ; but more frequently
with more regard to its connotation of censure, implying dis
pleasure, " by rebuked " (Mt. xvii. 18; Mk. ix. 21 ; Lk. iv. 35-
41, xix. 42; Mk. viii. 30; Lk. ix. 55; Mt. viii. 20; Mk. iv. 39;
Lk. iv. 39, viii. 24). 62 This term, the fundamental meaning of
which is " to mete out due measure ", with that melancholy
necessity which carries all terms which express doing justice
to sinful men downwards in their connotation, is used in the
New Testament only in malam partem, and we may be quite
sure is never employed without its implication of censure.63
What is implied by its employment is that our Lord in work-
01 The classical exposition of the whole passage is F. Gumlich's, Die
Rdthsel der Erweckung Lazari, in the Theologische Studien und Kritiken,
1862, pp. 65-110, and 248-336. See also John Hutchison, in The Monthly
Interpreter, 1885, II. pp. 281-296 and 374-386.
62 "ETiTifidu: See Schmidt, Synonymik etc. I. 1876, § 4, 11, p. 147:
"iTnipav is properly to impute something to one (as a fault) . . .
And indeed it denotes harsh and in general vehement reproaches with
reference to unworthy deeds or customs, construed ordinarily with the
dative of the person : to condemn with harsh words, to heap reproaches
on." Cf. also Trench, § 4 (p. 12).
83 Swete, on Mk. i. 25: "iTuripav, Vg. comminari, Wycliffe and Rheims
' threaten ', other English Versions, ' rebuke ' : the strict meaning of
the word is ' to mete-out due measure ', but in the N. T. it is used only
of censure ". Plummer on Lk. iv. 35 : " In N. T. iirni.pA.oj has no other
meaning than 'rebuke'; but in classical Greek it means — 1. 'lay a value
on, rate'; 2. 'lay a penalty on, sentence'; 3. 'chide, rate, rebuke'."
" The verb is often used of rebuking violence (verse 41, viii. 24, ix. 42 ;
Mt. viii. 26, xviii. 18; Mk. iv. 39; Jud. ix) ; yet must not on that account
be rendered 'restrain' (Fritzsche on Mt. viii. 26, p. 325)." Morrison
accordingly thinks that " rated " might give the essential meaning of the
word. Lagrange (on Mk. i. 28) unduly weakens the term.

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 63
ing certain cures, and, indeed, in performing others of his
miracles — as well as in laying charges on his followers —
spoke, not merely " strongly and peremptorily ",64 but chid-
ingly, that is to say, with expressed displeasure.65 There is in
these instances perhaps not so strong but just as clear an as
cription of the emotion of anger to our Lord as in those we
have already noted, and this suggests that not merely in the
case of the raising of Lazarus but in many other instances in
which he put forth his almighty power to rescue men from
the evils which burdened them, our Lord was moved by an
ebullition of indignant anger at the destructive powers ex
hibited in disease or even in the convulsions of nature.66 In
instances like Mt. xii. 16; Mk. iii. 12; Mt. xvi. 20; Mk. viii.
30; Lk. ix. 21, the censure inherent in the term' may almost
seem to become something akin to menace or threat : " he
chided them to the end that they should not make him
known;" he made a show of anger or displeasure directed to
this end. In the cases where, however, Jesus chided the un
clean spirits which he cast out it seems to lie in the nature of
things that it was the tyrannous evil which they were working
upon their victims that was the occasion of his displeasure.67
When he is said to have " rebuked " a fever which was tor
menting a human being (Lk. iv. 39) or the natural elements' —
the wind and sea — menacing human lives (Mt. viii. 26; Mk.
iv. 39; Lk. viii. 24), there is no reason to suppose that he
looked upon these natural powers as themselves personal, and
as little that the personification is only figurative ; we may not
54 Morrison on Mk. iii. 12.
raHahn on Lk. iv. 35: ''i-jriTlp/rjo-ev atrip, that is, he vehemently com
manded him, charged him with strong, chiding words (cf. verses 39, 41,
viii. 24, ix. 21, 42, 55), an expression by which Luke would say that
Jesus spoke the following words in a tone of highest displeasure :" cf.
on verse 39.
06 Cf. Gumlich, TSK, 1862 p. 287 : " Similar movements of anger,
iiriTipuiv instead of ip.ppip.ao-8ai directly before or after a miracle, we
find also elsewhere in him: threats (Bedrohen) to the wind and the sea
(Mt. viii. 26), most frequently in the case of healings of possessed people
of a difficult kind (Mt. viii. 26, vii. 18; Mk. ix. 21, i. 25, iii. 12; Lk. iv. 41)."
67 In Mk. viii. 33 ; Lk. ix. 55 the objects of his displeasure were his fol
lowers.

64 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
improperly suppose that the displeasure he exhibited in his up
braiding them was directed against the power behind these
manifestations of a nature out of joint, the same malignant in
fluence which he advanced to the conquest of when he drew
near to the tomb of Lazarus.68 In any event the series of pas
sages in which this term is employed to ascribe to Jesus acts
inferring displeasure, greatly enlarges the view we have of the
play of Jesus' emotions of anger. We see him chiding his
disciples, the demons that were tormenting men, and the natural
powers which were menacing their lives or safety, and speak
ing in tones of rebuke to the multitudes who were the recipients
of his healing grace (Mt. xii. 16). And 'that we are not to
suppose that this chiding was always mild we are advised by
88 Cf. Zahn, Das Evangelium des Johannes, 1908, p. 480, note 82 : " Since
Jesus, without prejudice to his faith in the all-embracing providence and
universal government of God, looked upon all disease, and not merely
possession, as the work of Satan (Lk. xiii. 16, x. 19, cf. Acts xvi. 38;
2 Cor. xii. 7), and held him to be the author not only of isolated miseries,
but of the death of man in general (Jno. viii. 44) ; Heb. ii. 14 does not go
beyond Jesus' circle of ideas." — Also Henry Norris Bernard, The Mental
Characteristics of the Lord Jesus Christ. 1888, pp. 90-91 : " The miracles
of Christ formed part of that warfare which was ever waging between
the Son of God and the power of evil which he was manifested to
destroy. The rage of the elements, the roaring wind, and the surging
waves ever seeking to engulf the fishers' boat; the fell sickness racking
with pain man's body ; the paralysis of the mental powers destroying man's
intellect, and leaving him a prey to unreasoning violence, or to unclean
desires; the death which shrouded him in the unknown darkness of the
tomb — these things were to the Saviour's vision but objective forms of
the curse of sin which it was his mission to remove. The Kingdom of
God and the Kingdom of Satan were brought together in opposition.
The battle between the Lord's Christ and the great adversary was ever
going on. Man's infirmities and his sicknesses, in the eyes of Christ, were
the outward symbols of the sin which was their cause. So the inspired
writer, in the healing of the sick, and in the casting out of devils, sees
direct blows given, which, in the end, shall cause Satan's empire to totter
to its fall. Every leper cleansed, every blind man restored to sight, every
helpless paralytic made to walk, every distracted man brought back to
the sweetness of life and light of reason, above all the dead recalled to
life — each, in the salvation accorded them, furnished a proof that a
greater than Satan was here, and that the Kingdom of God was being
manifested upon earth."

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 65
the express declaration that it was in one instance at least,
"vehement" (Mk. iii. 12). 69
Perhaps in no incidents recorded in the Gospels is the action
of our Lord's indignation more vividly displayed than in the ac
counts of the cleansings of the Temple. In closing the ac
count which he gives of the earlier of these, John tells us that
" his disciples remembered that it was written, The zeal of
thine house shall eat me up" (Jno. ii. 17). The word here
employed — " zeal " — may mean nothing more than " ardor " ;
but this ardor may burn with hot indignation, — we read of a
"zeal of fire which shall devour the adversaries" (Heb. x.
27). And it seems to be this hot indignation at the pollution
of the house of God — this " burning jealousy for the holiness
of the house of God " 70' — which it connotes in our present
passage. In this act, Jesus in effect gave vent " to a righteous
anger ",71 and perceiving his wrathful zeal72 his followers
recognized in it the Messianic fulfilment of the words in
which the Psalmist represents himself as filled with a zeal for
the house of Jehovah, and the honor of him who sits in it, that
" consumes him like a fire burning in his bones, which in
cessantly breaks through and rages all through him." 73 The
form in which it here breaks forth is that of indignant anger
towards those who defile God's house with traficking, and it
thus presents us with one of the most striking manifestations
of the anger of Jesus in act.
It is far, however, from being the only instance in which the
action of Jesus' anger is recorded for us. And the severity of
his language equals the decisiveness of his action. He does
89 Cf. Swete in loc; also Lagrange : "iroXXd, taken adverbially, does
not mean in Mk. ' often ', nor even ' in a prolonged fashion ', but ' earn
estly', 'strongly', 'greatly' (except perhaps in i. 45) ; cf. v. 10, 23, 43, vi.
20, ix. 26; the Vulgate has, therefore, well rendered it vehementer (here
and xvi. 43)."
70 Westcott in loc.
71 Zahn in loc : p. 168.
72 Meyer in loc : " In this wrathful zeal which they saw had taken hold
of Jesus, they thought they saw the Messianic fulfilment of that word of
the psalm. ..."
73 Delitzsch in loc.

66 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
not scruple to assault his opponents with the most vigorous
denunciation. Herod he calls " that fox " (Lk. xiii. 32) ; the
unreceptive, he designates briefly " swine " (Mt. vii. 6) ; those
that tempt him he visits with the extreme term of ignominy —
Satan (Mk. viii. 33). The opprobrious epithet of "hypo
crites " is repeatedly on his lips (Mt. xv. 7, xxiii. passim; Lk.
xiii. '1 5), and he added force to this reprobation by clothing it
in violent figures, — they were " blind guides ", " whited sepul
chres ", and, less tropically, " a faithless and perverse genera
tion ", a " wicked and adulterous generation ". He does not
shrink even from vituperatively designating them ravening
wolves (Mt. vii. 15), serpents, brood of vipers (Mt. xii. 34),
even children of the evil one : " Ye are ", he declares plainly,
" of your father, the Devil " (Jno. viii. 44). The long arraign
ment of the Pharisees in the twenty-third chapter of Matthew
with its iterant, " Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypo
crites ! " and its uncompromising denunciation, fairly throbs
with indignation, and brings Jesus before us in his sternest
mood, the mood of the nobleman in the parable (Lk. xix. 27),
whom he represents as commanding: "And as for these my
enemies, bring them hither and slay them before me." 74
The holy resentment of Jesus has been made the subject of a
famous chapter in Ecco Homo.75 The contention of this chap
ter is that he who loves men must needs hate with a burning
hatred all that does wrong to human beings, and that, in point
of fact, Jesus never wavered in his consistent resentment of
the special wrong-doing which he was called upon to witness.
The chapter announces as its thesis, indeed, the paradox that
true mercy is no less the product of anger than of pity: that
what differentiates the divine virtue of mercy from " the vice
74 Cf. James Denney, article " Anger ", and E. Daplyn, article " Fierce
ness ", in Hastings' DCG. Also Lutgert, as cited, p. 97 where instances of
our Lord's expressions of anger, " which occupy a large place in the
Synoptics " are gathered together, and p. 99 where it is pointed out that
" Jesus grounds his declarations of woe, not on what his opponents had
done to him, but purely on their sins against the law and the prophets
. . . Jesus' anger remains therefore pure because it burns against what
is done against God, and not against what has happened to himself".
75 Chapter xxi. " The Law of Resentment."

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 67
of insensibility " which is called " tolerance ", is just the under
lying presence of indignation. Thus. — so the reasoning runs, —
" the man who cannot be angry cannot be merciful," and it
was therefore precisely the anger of Christ which proved that
the unbounded compassion he manifested to sinners " was
really mercy and not mere tolerance." The analysis is doubt
less incomplete ; but the suggestion, so far as it goes, is fruit
ful. Jesus' anger is not merely the seamy side of his pity ; it
is the righteous reaction of his moral sense in the presence of
evil. But Jesus burned with anger against the wrongs he met
with in his journey through human life as truly as he melted
with pity at the sight of the world's misery : and it was out of
these two emotions that his actual mercy proceeded.
III.
We call our Lord " the Man of Sorrows ", and the designa
tion is obviously appropriate for one who came into the world
to bear the sins of men and to give his life a ransom for many.
It is, however, not a designation which is applied to Christ in
the New Testament, and even in the Prophet (Is. liii. 3) it
may very well refer rather to the objective afflictions of the
righteous servant than to his subjective distresses.76 In any
event we must bear in mind that our Lord did not come into the
world to be broken by the power of sin and death, but to break
it. He came as a conqueror with the gladness of the imminent
victory in his heart; for the joy set before him he was able
to endure the cross, despising shame (Heb. xii. 2). And as
he did not prosecute his work in doubt of the issue, neither
did he prosecute it hesitantly as to its methods. He rather
(so we are told, Lk. x. 21) " exulted in the Holy Spirit " as
he contemplated the ways of God in bringing many sons to
glory. The word is a strong one and conveys the idea of exu
berant gladness, a gladness which fills the heart ; 77 and it is
76 So e. g. Cheyne, G. A. Smith, Skinner, Workman.
77 'AyaWidopai : see G. Heine, Synonymik des N.T. -lichen Griechisch
1898, p. l47:"xofpw in general, gaudeo, laetor (xapd, XVOW ), dyaWidw, -omoi
( S'J ) exsulto, vehementer gaudeo, Mt. v. 12; Lk. x. 21 ( dyaWlains)
Lk i. 14, 44, summum gaudium (frequently in LXX; not classical)".

68 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
intimated that, on this occasion at least, this exultation was a
product in Christ — and therefore in his human nature — of the
operations of the Holy Spirit,78 whom we must suppose to have
been always working in the human soul of Christ, sustaining
and strengthening it. It cannot be supposed that, this particu
lar occasion alone being excepted, Jesus prosecuted his work
on earth in a state of mental depression. His advent into the
world was announced as "good tidings of great joy" (Lk. ii.
10), and the tidings which he himself proclaimed were "the
good tidings " by way of eminence. Is it conceivable that he
went about proclaiming them with a " sad countenance "
(Mt. vi. 16) ? It is misleading then to say merely, with
Jeremy Taylor, " We never read that Jesus laughed and but
once that he rejoiced in spirit."79 We do read that, in con-
There is a good brief account of the word given by C. F. Gelpe,
in the Theologische Studien und Kritiken, 1849, pp. 645-646: "the pro-
foundest and highest transport ". Cf. Godet in loc " 'Aya\\iao-6ai., to
exult, denotes an inner transport, which takes place in the same deep
regions of the soul of Jesus as the opposite emotion expressed by the
ip.ppifj,ao-6ai , to groan (Jno. xi. 33). This powerful influence of external
events on the inner being of Jesus proves how thoroughly in earnest the
Gospels take his humanity."
78 Plummer in loc: "This joy is a divine inspiration. The fact is
analogous to his being 'led by the Spirit in the wilderness', (iv. 1)."
79 The Whole Works of Jeremy Taylor. Ed. Heber, London 1828. II.
p. lxvii. Jeremy Taylor's object is to show that Christ is not imitable by
us in everything ; hence he proceeds at once : " But the declensions of our
natures cannot bear the weight of a perpetual grave deportment, without
the intervals of refreshment and free alacrity." This whole view of
our Lord's deportment lacks justification: but it has been widely held from
the earliest times. Basil the Great, for instance, in condemning immoder
ate mirth, appeals to our Lord's example, — although he accounts for his de
portment on a theory which bears traces of the " apathetic " ideal of
virtue so wide-spread in his day. " And the Lord appears to have sus
tained" says he (Regulae fusius Trdctatae. 17: Migne, PG. xxxi. p. 961),
" the passions which are necessary to the flesh and whatever of them
bear testimony to virtue, such as weariness, and pity to the afflicted :
but never to have used laughter, so far as may be learned from the
narrative of the Evangelists, but to have pronounced a woe upon those
who are held by it (Lk. vi. 25)." Chrysostom (Horn, vi in Matth.: Migne,
PG. lvii, p. 69) in commending a grave life by the example of Christ,
exaggerates the matter: "If thou also weep thus, thou hast become an
imitator of thy Lord. For he also himself wept, both over Lazarus

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 69
trast with John the Baptist, he came " eating and drinking ",
and accordingly was malignantly called " a gluttonous man
and a wine-bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners" (Mt. xi.
19; Lk. vii. 34) ; and this certainly does not encourage us to
think of his demeanor at least as habitually sorrowful.
It is pure perversion, to be sure, when Renan, after the de
basing fashion of his sentimentalizing frivolity, transmutes
Jesus' joy in his redemptive work (Jno. xv. 11, xvii. 13) into
mere pagan lightness of heart and delight in living, as if his
fundamental disposition were a kind of " sweet gaiety " which
" was incessantly expressing itself in lively reflections, and
kindly pleasantries." He assures us that Jesus travelled about
Palestine almost as if he was some lord of revelry, bringing
a festival wherever he came, and greeted at every doorstep " as
a joy and a benediction " :¦ " the women and children adored
him." The infancy of the world had come back with him
" with its divine spontaneity and its naive dizzinesses of joy."
At his touch the hard conditions of life vanished from sight,
and there took possession of men, the dream of an imminent
paradise, of " a delightful garden in which should continue
forever the charming life they now were living." " How
long ", asks Renan, " did this intoxication last? ", and answers :
" We do not know. During the continuance of this magical
apparition, time was not measured. Duration was suspended ;
a week was a century. But whether it filled years or months,
the dream was so beautiful that humanity has lived on it ever
since, and our consolation still is to catch its fading fragrance.
Never did so much joy stir the heart of man. For a moment in
this most vigorous attempt it has ever made to lift itself above
its planet, humanity forgot the leaden weight which holds it
to the earth and the sorrows of the life here below. Happy he
who could see with his own eyes this divine effloresence and
share, if even for a day, this unparalleled illusion!" 80
The perversion is equally great, however, when there is
and over the city; and touching Judas he was greatly troubled. And
this, indeed, he is often to be seen doing, but never laughing (-yeXfiiTa),
and not even smiling even a little; at least no one of the Evangelists has
mentioned it."
8" Vie de Jesus, ch. xi. ad fin.; ed. 2. 1863, pp. 188-194.

7o

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD

attributed to our Lord, as it is now very much the fashion to
do, " before the black shadow of the cross fell athwart his
pathway," the exuberant joy of a great hope never to be ful
filled : the hope of winning his people to his side and of inau
gurating the Kingdom of God upon this sinful earth by the
mere force of its proclamation.81 Jesus was never the victim
of any such illusion : he came into the world on a mission
of ministering mercy to the lost, giving his life as a ransom
for many (Lk. xix. 10; Mk. x. 4; Mt. xx. 28) ; and from the
beginning he set his feet steadfastly in the path of suffering
(Mt. iv. 3 f. ; Lk. iv. 3 f.) which he knew led straight onward
to death (Jno. ii. 19, iii. 14; Mt. xii. 40; Lk. xii. 49-50; Mt.
ix. 15; Mk. ii. 1-9; Lk. v. 34, etc.). Joy he had: but it was
not the shallow joy of mere pagan delight in living, nor the de
lusive joy of a hope destined to failure ; but the deep exultation
of a conqueror setting captives free. This joy underlay all
his sufferings and shed its light along the whole thorn-beset
path which was trodden by his torn feet. We hear but little
of it, however, as we hear but little of his sorrows : the nar
ratives are not given to descriptions of the mental states of the
great actor whose work they illustrate. We hear just enough
of it to assure us of its presence underlying and giving its color
to all his life (Lk. iv. 21 ;82 Jno. v. 11, xvii. 1383). If our
Lord was " the Man of Sorrows ", he was more profoundly
still " the Man of Joy ".84
8X Cf. the article " Foresight " in Hastings' DCG. See for example, A.
Jiilicher, Die Gleichnisreden Jesu. I. p. 144; Paul Wernle, Die Anf tinge
unserer Religion, p. 65 : " There was a time in Jesus' life, when a wholly
extraordinary hope filled his soul. . . Then, Jesus knew himself to be
in harmony with all the good forces of his people . . . that was the
happiest time of his life. . . . We only need to ask whether Jesus
retained this enthusiastic faith to the end. To that period of joyful hope
there succeeded a deep depression."
8,P Aya\\idop.ai ; see note yy above.
83 Xapd : consult also the use in parables of both x^pd, Mt. xxv. 21, 23 ;
Lk. xv. 10, and xalP'a, Mt. xviii. 13 ; Lk. xv. 5, 32.
84 A. B. Bruce, The Humiliation of Christ," 1881, p. 334: "Hence,
though a man of sorrow, he was even on earth anointed with the oil
of gladness above his fellows. . . . Shall we wonder that there was
divine gladness in the heart of him who came into the world, not by
constraint, but willingly; not with a burning sense of wrong, but with a

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 71
Of the lighter pleasurable emotions that flit across the mind
in response to appropriate incitements arising occasionally in
the course of social intercourse, we also hear little in the case
of Jesus. It is not once recorded that he laughed ; we do not
ever hear even that he smiled ; only once are we told that he was
glad, and then it is rather sober gratification than exuberant
delight which is spoken of in connection with him (Jno. xi.
15). But, then, we hear little also of his passing sorrows.
The sight of Mary and her companions wailing at the tomb
of Lazarus, agitated his soul and caused him tears (Jno. xi.
35) ; the stubborn unbelief of Jerusalem drew from him loud.
wailing (Lk. xix. 41). He sighed at the sight of human suf
fering (Mk. vii. 34) and " sighed deeply " overmen's hardened
unbelief (viii. 12) : man's inhumanity to man smote his heart
with pain (iii. 5). But it is only with reference to his supreme
sacrifice that his mental sufferings are emphasized. This
supreme sacrifice cast, it is true, its shadows before it. It was
in the height of his ministry that our Lord exclaimed, " I have
a baptism to be baptized with; and how am I straitened till
it be accomplished" (Lk. xii. 50). 85 Floods lie before him
grateful sense of high privilege ; and that he had a blessed consciousness of
fellowship with his Father who sent him, during the whole of his
pilgrimage through this vale of tears ? " A. E. Garvie, Studies in the
Inner Life of Jesus, 1907, p. 318 : " Although in his emotions, varying
notes of joy or grief were struck by the changeful experiences of his
life among men, yet the undertone was the sense of a great good to be
gained by the endurance of a great sorrow." G. Matheson, Studies in
the Portrait of Christ™ 1909, I. pp. 274 sq. : " We speak of the ' Man
of Sorrows ', yet I think the deepest note in the soul of Jesus was not
sorrow but joy." C. W. Emmet, DCG. ii. p. 607 b : Christ " is the Man
of Sorrows, yet we cannot think of him for a moment as an unhappy
man. He rather gives us the picture of serene and unclouded happiness.
Beneath not merely the outward suffering, but the profound sorrow of
heart, there is deeper still a continual joy, derived from the realized
presence of his Father and the consciousness that he is doing his work.
Unless this is remembered, the idea of the Man of Sorrows is sentiment
alized and exaggerated." F. W. Farrar, The Life of Christ, 1874, i- P-
318; ii. p. 103.
^Hahn in loc: "We see from this verse that Jesus had a distinct
foreknowledge of his passion, as indeed he bears witness already in
ix. 22, 44. There meets us here, however, the first intimation that he

72 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
under which he is to be submerged,86 and the thought of pas
sing beneath their waters " straitens " his soul. The term
rendered " straitened " 87 imports oppression and affliction, and
bears witness to the burden of anticipated anguish which our
Lord bore throughout life. The prospect of his sufferings, it
has been justly said, was a perpetual88 Gethsemane; and how
complete this foretaste was we may learn from the incident
recorded in Jno. xii. 27,89 although this antedated Gethsemane,
by only a few days. " Now is my soul90 troubled," he cries
and adds a remarkable confession of shrinking at the prospect
of death, with, however, an immediate revulsion to his habit
ual attitude of submission to, or rather of hearty embracing of,
his Father's will. — "And what shall I say? Father, save me
from this hour ! 91 But for this cause, came I to this hour !
looked forward to it with inner dread (Angst), though there are re
peated testimonies to this later (Cf. xxii. 42; Jno. xii. 2; Mt. xxvi. 37)."
Cf. Mt. xx. 22 : " Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to
drink?"; Mk. x. 38: "Are you able to drink the cup that I drink? or to
be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with ? "
88 Cf. Meyer on Mk. x. 38: "The cup and baptism of Jesus represent
martyrdom. In the case of the figure of baptism . . . the point of the
similitude lies in the being submerged . . Cf. the classical use of
KdraSieiv and Pairrlfeiv , to plunge (immerge) into sufferings, sorrows, and
the like."
87 'Zwixoj : see G. Heine, Synonymik etc., 1898. p. 149: "o-xjvex.op.ai,
affligor, laboro". Cf. Plummer in loc: "How am I oppressed, afflicted,
until it be accomplished! Comp. viii. 3y; Jno. v. 24. The prospect of
his sufferings was a perpetual Gethsemane : cf. Jno. xii. 27." Weiss in
loc: "And how I am afflicted (bedrdngt) until it be accomplished!
Expression of human anxiety in prospect of the sufferings which were
to come, as in Gethsemane and Jno. xii. 27."
88 The fws Stov emphasizes the whole intervening time : "I am strait
ened through all the time up to its accomplishment."
88 Zahn in loc, (p. 509) : " The essential content of this incident, nar
rated by John alone, is the same that the Synoptics record in the prayer-
conflict in Gethsemane, which John passes over in silence when his nar
rative brings him to Gethsemane (xviii. 1-11)".
80 See note 3.
91 This prayer is frequently taken as a continuation of the question. So,
e. g. Zahn. (p. 507) : " To the question tI ettroj , the words which follow :
irdrep, ouxrbv pje in ttjs upas Ta&rijs cannot bring the response; for the
prayer is at once corrected and withdrawn ( dXXd ktX ) , and replaced
by an absolutely different one (verse 28). The first prayer shares

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 73
Father, glorify Thy name !" He had come into the world to
die ; but as he vividly realizes what the death is which he is to
die, there rises in his soul a yearning for deliverance, only
however, to be at once repressed.92 The state of mind in which
this sharp conflict went on is described by a term the fundamen
tal implication of which is agitation, disquietude, perplex
ity.93 This perturbation of soul is three times attributed by
John to Jesus (xi. 33, xii. 27, xiii. 21), and always as express
ing the emotions which conflict with death stirred in him.
The anger roused in him by the sight of the distress into which
death had plunged Mary and her companions (xi. 33) ; the an
ticipation of his own betrayal to death (xiii. 21) ; the clearly
realized approach of his death (xii. 27) ; threw him inwardly
into profound agitation. It was not always the prospect of
his own death (xii. 2J, xiii. 21), but equally the poignant real
ization of what death meant for others (xi. 33) which had the
power thus to disquiet him. His deep agitation was clearly,
therefore, not due to mere recoil from the physical experience
of death,94 though even such a recoil might be the expression
therefore in the interrogatory inflection of rl etiria and is to be filled out by
an apa (or ?j) etirio derived thence, with the new question, 'Am I to say,
perhaps: Father save me from this hour? ' " Against this, however, Wes-
cott forcibly urges " that it does not fall in with the parallel clause,
which follows: 'Father glorify Thy Name'; nor with the intensity of
the passage, nor yet with the kindred passages in the Synoptics (Mt.
xxvi. 39 and parallels)."
02 Zahn (p. 509) : " Into the world of Jesus' conceptions the possibility
of going another way than that indicated by God could intrude; that
was his temptation; but his will repelled it."
93 Tapdo-o-oj : see Schmidt, Synonymik etc., iii. 1879. § 739. 6. p. 516:
Heine, Synonymik etc., 1898. p. 149.
84 Cf. Calvin Com. in Harm. Evang., on Mt. xxvi. 37 : " And whence
came to him both sorrow and anxiety and fear, except because he felt
in death something sadder and more horrible than the separation of the
soul and body? And certainly he underwent death, not merely that he
might move from earth to heaven, but rather that he might take on
himself the curse to which we were liable, and deliver us from it.
His horror was not, then, at death simpliciter, as a passage out of the
world, but because he had before his eyes the dreadful tribunal of God,
and the Judge Himself armed with inconceivable vengeance; it was our
sins, the burden of which he had assumed, that pressed him down with

74 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
not so much of a terror of dying as of a repugnance to the idea
of death.95 Behind death, he saw him who has the power of
death, and that sin which constitutes the sting of death. His
whole being revolted from that final and deepest humiliation,
in which the powers of evil were to inflict upon him the
precise penalty of human sin. To bow his head beneath this
stroke was the last indignity, the hardest act of that obedience
which it was his to render in his servant-form, and which we
are told with significant emphasis, extended " up to death "
(Phil. ii. 8).
So profound a repugnance to death and all that death meant,
manifesting itself during his life, could not fail to seize upon
him with peculiar intensity at the end. If the distant prospect
of his sufferings was a perpetual Gethsemane to him, the im
mediate imminence of them in the actual Gethsemane could
not fail to bring with it that " awful and dreadful torture "
which Calvin does not scruple to call the " exordium " of the
pains of hell themselves.96 Matthew and Mark almost exhaust
the resources of language to convey to us some conception of
their enormous mass. It is, then, not at all strange if the dreadful
abyss of destruction tormented him grievously with fear and anguish."
95 Thus Mrs. Humphrey Ward reports a conversation with Mir. Glad
stone (" Notes of Conversation with Mr. Gladstone," appended to the
second volume of Robert Elsmere, Westmoreland ed. 1911) : "He said
that though he had seen many deaths, he had never seen any really
peaceful. In all there had been much struggle. So much so that ' I my
self have conceived what I will not call a terror of death, but a re
pugnance from the idea of death. It is the rending asunder of body and
soul, the tearing apart of the two elements of our nature, — for I hold the
body to be an essential element as well as the soul, not a mere sheath
or envelope.' "
"Institutes. II. xvi. 12: "If anyone now ask, whether Christ was al
ready descending into hell when he prayed to be delivered from death,
I reply that this was the exordium, and we may learn from it what
diros et horribiles cruciatus he sustained when he was conscious of
standing at the tribunal of God, arraigned on our account." " It is our
wisdom," Calvin remarks in the context, " to have a fit sense of how
much our salvation cost the Son of God." Cf. the discussion in the same
spirit of Thomas Goodwin, Works, v. pp. 278-288 : " For it is God's wrath
that is hell, as it is his favor that is heaven" (p. 281).

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 75
our Lord's " agony " 97 as an early interpolator of Luke (Lk.
xxii. 44) calls it, in this dreadful experience.98 The anguish
of reluctance which constituted this " agony " is in part de
scribed by them both — they alone of the Evangelists enter into
our Lord's feelings here — by a term the primary idea of which
is loathing, aversion, perhaps not unmixed with despondency.99
This term is adjoined in Matthew's account to the common
word for sorrow, in which, however, here the fundamental
element of pain, distress, is prominent,100 so that we may per
haps render Matthew's account : " He began to be distressed
and despondent" (Mt. xxvi. 37). Instead of this wide word
for distress of mind, Mark employs a term which more narrow
ly defines the distress as consternation, — if not exactly dread,
yet alarmed dismay :101 " He began to be appalled and despond-
m ' Ayiovla : see G. Heine, Synonymik etc., 1898, p. 189: "Contest,
quaking, agitation (and anxiety of the issue?) Lk. xxii. 44; Luther, 'he
grappled with death ', Weizsacker, ' he struggled ', Bengel ; ' supreme
grief and anguish. It properly denotes the anguish and passion of the
mind, when it enters upon a conflict and arduous labor, even when there
is no doubt of a good issue'." Plummer in loc: "Field contends that
fear is the radical notion of the word. The passages in which it occurs
in LXX confirm this view. . . . It is therefore an agony of fear that
is apparently to be understood." It would be better to say consternation,
appalled reluctance.
98 The discussion of the language employed, by John Pearson, An Expo
sition of the Creed, (New York, 1843), p. 288, note t, is very penetrating.
m' ASTipjwioj : see Heine, Synonymik etc., 1898, p. 148: " pavesco, angor."
Cf. Lightf oot, on Phil. ii. 26 : " The primary idea of the word will be
loathing and discontent." " It describes the confused, restless, half-
distracted state, which is produced by physical discouragement, or by
mental distress, or grief, shame, disappointment, etc." Lagrange on
Mk. xviii. 33: "seized with despondency". Thomas Goodwin (Works.
v. 276) : " so that we see Christ's soul was sick and fainted," " his heart
failed him."
Il" AvTiopuc. see note 38.
101 'EtcBap-piopat : see Hastings' DCG. i. p. 48, article "Amazement";
G. Heine, Synonymik etc., p. 149 : It " is used of those whose minds are
horror-struck by the sight or thought of something great or atrocious,
not merely because it injects fear, but because the mind scarcely takes
in its magnitude." Weiss in loc: " inBappeTo-Bai cannot designate the
dread (Angst) but only the horror (Erschrecken) which attacks Jesus
at the thought of the sufferings which stand before him." Thomas Good
win (Works, v. p. 275) : " It signifies 'to be in horror'."

76 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
ent" (Mk. xiv. 33). Both accounts add our Lord's own
pathetic declaration : " My soul102 is exceeding sorrowful even
unto death ", the central term103 in which expresses a sorrow,
or perhaps we would better say, a mental pain, a distress, which
hems in on every side, from which there is therefore no es
cape; or rather (for the qualification imports that this hem-
ming-in distress is mortally acute, is an anguish of a sort that
no issue but death can be thought of104) which presses in and
besets from every side and therefore leaves no place for de
fence. The extremity of this agony may have been revealed,
as the interpolator of Luke tells us, by sweat dropping like
clots of blood on the ground, as our Lord ever more impor
tunately urged that wonderful prayer, in which as Bengel
strikingly says,105 the horror of death and the ardor of obed
ience met (Lk. xxii. 44). This interpolator tells us (Lk. xxii.
43 ) also that he was strengthened for the conflict by an angelic
visitor, and we may well suppose that had it not been for some
supernatural strengthening mercifully vouchsafed (cf. Jno.
xii. 27L ), the end would then have come.106 But the cup
must needs be drained to its dregs, and the final drop was not
drunk until that cry of desertion and desolation was uttered,
" My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" (Mt. xxvii.
102 See note 3.
103 IlepCKv-n-os. J. A. Alexander : " Grieved all round, encompassed,
shut in by distress on every side." Morrison : " The idea is, My soul is
sorrowful all round and round."
104 Swete's " a sorrow which well-nigh kills " is too weak : the meaning
is, it is a sorrow that kills. Thomas Goodwin (Works, v. p. 272) dis
tinguishes thus : " A heaviness unto death, not extensive, so as to die,
but intensive, that if he had died, he could not have suffered more."
105 On Jno. xii. 27. The evidence derived from the conflict of wills in
this prayer that these emotions had their seat in our Lord's human nature
is often adverted to, — e. g. by J. R. Willis, Hasting's DCG. i. p. 17a: —
" The thrice-repeated prayer of Jesus in which he speaks of his own will
as distinct from but distinctly subordinate to his Father's adds to the im
pression already gained, of the purely human feelings exhibited by him in
this struggle."
108 Cf. the description of this " agony " in Heb. v. 7 : " Who, in the
days of his flesh, having offered up, with strong crying and tears, prayers
and supplications unto him that was able to save him from death ''.

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD yy
46; Mk. xv. 34). 107 This culminating sorrow was actually
unto death.
In these supreme moments our Lord sounded the ultimate
depths of human anguish, and vindicated on the score of the
intensity of his mental sufferings the right to the title of
Man of Sorrows. The scope of these sufferings was also very
broad, embracing that whole series of painful emotions which
runs from a consternation that is appalled dismay, through a
despondency which is almost despair, to a sense of well-nigh
complete desolation. In the presence of this mental anguish
the physical tortures of the crucifixion retire into the back
ground, and we may well believe that our Lord, though he
died on the cross, yet died not of the cross, but, as we common
ly say, of a broken heart, that is to say, of the strain of his
187 Calvin, Commentarius in Harmoniam Evangelicarum, on Mt. xxvii. 46:
" And certainly this was his chief conflict, and harder than all his other
torments, because he was so far from being supported in his straits by
his Father's help or favor, that he felt himself in some measure estranged.
For he did not offer his body only in payment for our reconciliation
with God, but in his soul also he bore the punishments due to us ; and
thus became in very fact the man of sorrows, as Isaiah says (liii. 3). . .
For that Christ should make satisfaction for us, it was necessary that
he be sisted as guilty before the tribunal of God. But nothing is more
horrible than to incur the judgment of God, whose wrath is worse than
all deaths. When, then, there was presented to Christ a kind of tempta
tion as if he were already devoted to destruction, God being his enemy,
he was seized with a horror in which a hundred times all the mortals in
existence would have been overwhelmed; but he came out of it victor,
by the amazing power of the Spirit ". . . Also Institutes II. xvi. 11 :
" And certainly it is not possible to imagine a more terrible abyss than
to feel yourself forsaken and abandoned (derelictum et alienatum) by
God, and, when you call upon him, not to be heard as though he had
conspired for your destruction. Christ we see to have been so dejected
(defectum) as to be constrained in the urgency of his distress (urgente
angusta) to cry out, ' My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me ?' "
Calvin adds with clear insight that though it is evident that this cry
was ex intimi animi angore deductam, yet this does not carry with it the
admission that " God was ever either hostile or angry with him." " For
how could he be angry with his beloved son, in whom his soul delighted,
or how could Christ appear in his intercession for others before a Father
who was incensed with him ? " All that is affirmed is that " he sustained
the weight of the Divine severity; since, smitten and afflicted by the hand
of God, he experienced all the signs of an angry and punishing God."

78 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
mental suffering.108 The sensitiveness of his soul to affec-
tional' movements, and the depths of the currents of feeling
which flowed through his being, are thus thrown up into a
very clear light. And yet it is noticeable that while they tore
his heart and perhaps, in the end, broke the bonds which bound
his fluttering spirit to its tenement of clay, they never took the
helm of life or overthrew either the judgment of his calm
understanding or the completeness of his perfect trust in his
Father. If he cried out in his agony for deliverance, it was
always the cry of a child to a Father whom he trusts with all
and always, and with the explicit condition, Howbeit, not what
I will but what Thou wilt. If the sense of desolation invades
his soul, he yet confidingly commends his departing spirit
into his Father's hands (Lk. xxiii. 46 ).109 And through all
188 That his death was due to psychical rather than physical causes may
be the reason why it took place so soon. Jacobus Baumann in a most dis
tressing book (Die Gemiitsart Jesu, 1908, p. 10) appeals to the rapidity
with which Jesus succumbed to death as evidence of a certain general
lack of healthful vigor which he finds in Jesus : " With this liability to
easy exhaustion, his quick death on the cross agrees — a thing which was
unusual." 109 Calvin, Institutes ii. xv. 12 does not fail to remind us that even in
our Lord's cry of desolation, he still addresses God as " My God " :
" although he suffered agony beyond measure, yet he does not cease to
call God his God, even when he cries out that he is forsaken by him."
Then at large in the Comm. in Harm. Evang., on Mt. xxvii. 46 : " We have
already pointed out the difference between natural feeling and the knowl
edge of faith. There was nothing to prevent Christ from mentally con
ceiving that God had deserted him, according to the dictation of his
natural feeling, and at the same time retaining his faith that God was
well-disposed to him. And this appears with sufficient clearness from the
two clauses of the complaint. For before he gives expression to his
trial, he begins by saying that he flees to God as his God and so he
bravely repels by this shield of faith that appearance of dereliction which
presented itself in opposition. In short, in this dire anguish his faith
was unimpaired, so that in act of deploring that he was forsaken, he still
trusted in the present help of God." Similarly Thomas Goodwin
(Works, v. p. 283) : "And both these differing apprehensions of his did
Christ accordingly express in that one sentence, ' My God, My God, why
hast Thou forsaken me ? ' He speaks it as apprehending himself a son
still united to God and beloved by him, and yet forsaken by him as
a surety accursed."

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 79
his agony his demeanor to his disciples, his enemies,, his
judges, his executioners is instinct with calm self-mastery.
The cup which was put to his lips was bitter : none of its bit
terness was lost to him as he drank it : but he drank it ; and
he drank it as his own cup which it was his own will (because
it was his Father's will) to drink. " The cup which the Father
hath given me, shall I not drink it? " (Jno. xviii. 11), — it was
in this spirit, not of unwilling subjection to unavoidable evil,
but of voluntary endurance of unutterable anguish for adequate
ends, that he passed into and through all his sufferings. His
very passion was his own action. He had power to lay down
his life ; and it was by his own power that he laid down his life,
and by his own power that he trod the whole pathway of
suffering which led up to the formal act of his laying down
his life. Nowhere is he the victim of circumstances or the
helpless sufferer. Everywhere and always, it is he who pos
sesses the mastery both of circumstances and of himself.110
The completeness of Jesus' trust in God which is manifested
in the unconditional, " Nevertheless, not as I will but as Thou
wilt " of the " agony ", and is echoed in the " Father, into
Thy hands I commend my spirit " of the cross, finds endless
illustration in the narratives of the Evangelists. Trust is never,
however, explicitly attributed to him in so many words.111 Ex
cept in the scoffing language with which he was assailed as he
hung on the cross : " He trusteth in God ; let him deliver him
now if he desireth him" (Mt. xxvii. 43), the term "trust"
is never so much as mentioned in connection with his relations
u0 Cf. the remarks of H. N. Bernard, The Mental Characteristics of our
Lord Jesus Christ, 1888, pp. 2S7sq.
m Cf. Heb. ii. 13. In Jno. ii. 24 we are told that Jesus " did not trust
himself ( Mo-revo-ev )" to those in Jerusalem who believed on him when
they saw the signs which he did. Cf. Lutgert, as cited, p. 63 : " From
this the relation of Jesus to God receives a two-fold form : on the one side
it is absolute trust, a certainty of receiving everything, a wish and prayer
directed to God, which leads to a complete exaltation above nature; but
this side of his faith Jesus makes use of only for men. By virtue of this
his confidence he fulfils the wish of all who ask him. In this use of his
faith he expresses his love for men. The faith of Jesus has however also
another side; it is bowing, renunciation and subordination to God. This
side of his faith Jesus employs only for himself. The story of the tempta-

80 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
with God. Nor is the term " faith ".112 Nor indeed are
many of what we may call the fundamental religious affections
directly attributed to him, although he is depicted as literally
living, moving and having his being in God. His profound
feeling of dependence on God, for example, is illustrated in
every conceivable way, not least strikingly in the constant
habit of prayer which the Evangelists ascribe to him.113 But
we are never directly told that he felt this dependence on God
or "feared God" or felt the emotions of reverence and awe
in the divine presence.114 We are repeatedly told that he re-
tion shows that Jesus uses this renunciation in order to glorify God."
(Further, p. 89).
112 Cf. A. Schlatter, Die Theologie des Neuen Testaments, 1909, p. 317:
" Perfect love involves perfect trust, and is not thinkable without it.
Yet though the disciples have declared that Jesus empowered them for
faith and demanded faith of them, they have said nothing of Jesus' own
faith. Even John has said nothing of it although he has rich formulas
for the piety of Jesus and speaks of faith as the act by which Jesus unites
his disciples with himself. The notion of faith is introduced by him only
with respect to Jesus' relations to men, ' He trusted himself not to them ' ;
while, of Jesus' relation to God, he says ' He heard him, loved him, knew
him, saw him,' but not, ' He believed on him ' (Jno. ii. 24, viii. 26, 40,
xi. 10, xiv. 31, x. 15, xvii. 25, iii. 11, vi. 46, viii. 35). As a rule for the
conduct of the disciples toward Jesus is expressly drawn from Jesus'
conduct towards the Father, the formula ' Believe in me as I believe in the
Father ' might have been expected. But it does not occur."
U8Mk. i. 35, vi. 46, xiv. 32, 35; Mt. xiv. 23, xix. 13, xxvi. 36-39, 42-44;
Lk. iii. 21, v. 16, vi. 12, ix. 18-28, xi. 1, xxii. 41, 44. Cf. Lutgert, as cited,
p. 90: "Also in the expression of his love to God, Jesus fulfilled, accord
ing to the Evangelists, his own commandment, not to exhibit his piety
openly, but to practice it in secret. The Evangelists therefore designedly
lay stress on Jesus' seeking solitude for prayer. The communion of Jesus
with God, the ' inner life ' of Jesus, falls accordingly outside their nar
rative. The relation of Jesus with God is not discussed, his com
munion with God remains a secret." This is spoken of the Synoptics who
alone tells us of Jesus' habit of prayer (¦n-poo-tixop:ai, wpoirevxti do not occur
in John).
114 Cf. Heb. v. 7: "having been heard for his godly fear (erJXd/Jeia)",
i. e. for his reverent and submissive awe, "that religious fear of God and
anxiety not to offend him which manifests itself in voluntary and humble
submission to his will" (Delitzsch in loc). Davidson in loc: "The
clause throws emphasis on the Son's reverent submission." Humanitarian
writers debate whether " fear " of God is to be attributed to Jesus. Well-

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 8l
turned thanks to God,115 but we are never told in so many
words that he experienced the emotion of gratitude. The nar
rative brings Jesus before us as acting under the impulse of all
the religious emotions ; but it does not stop to comment upon the
emotions themselves.
The same is true of the more common emotions of human
hausen (Israel, und jiid. Geschichte', p. 383, expanded in Skiszen und
Vorarbeiten, i. 1884, p. 98) represents him as passing his life in fear of
the judge of all : " He feels the reality of God dominating life, he
breathes in the fear of the Judge who demands account of every idle word
and has power to destroy body and soul in hell." Similarly Bousset
(Jesus, 1904, pp. 54, 99, E. T. pp. 112, 203) speaks of him as learning
by his own experience " that God is terrible (furchibar) and that an awful
darkness and dread encircles him even for those who stand nearest to
him," and as " sharing to the bottom of his soul " " the fear of that al
mighty God who has power to damn body and soul together," which he
" has stamped upon the hearts of his disciples with such marvellous
energy." Karl Thieme, however, from the same humanitarian standpoint
(Die christliche Demut, i. 1906, pp. 109 sq.) repels such representations
as without historical ground: we may historically ascribe reverential awe
(Ehrfurcht) to Jesus but not fear (Furcht). "Of course he compre
hended God in the whole overtowering majesty of his being, and adored
his immeasurable exaltation in the deepest reverence (Ehrfurcht)."
But " we may maintain in Jesus' case an altogether fearless (furchtlos)
assurance of God and self." " We cannot speak of a ' fear of the Judge '
in Jesus' case, because it does not well harmonize with his faith in his
own judgeship of the world. But we can no doubt call the intensity of
his obedience, the living sense of responsibility in which he made it his
end, his whole life through, to walk, in all his motions, with the utmost
exactness according to the will of God as the almighty majestic Lord, his
fear of God." Lutgert (Die Liebe im Neuen Testament, 1895, pp. 88, 89)
points to Jesus' turning to the Father in Gethsemane and on the cross,
not as something terrible (furchtbar) but with loving confidence, as
decisive in the case. On the place of ' the fear of God ' in Christian
piety,' see Liitgert's article Die Furcht Gottes, published in the Theo-
logische Studien, presented to Martin Kahler on 6 January 1905 (Leipzig,
1905, PP. 163 sq.).
^'EvxapuTTioj , Jno. xi. 41; Mt. xv. 36; Mk. viii. 6; Jno. vi. 11, 23;
xxvi. 27 ; Mk. xiv. 23 ; Lk. xxii. 17, 19 ; 1 Cor. xi. 24. On the word,
see Lobeck, Phrynicus, p. 18 ; Rutherford, The New Phrynicus, p. 69. 'Eijojuo
\oyiopat, Mt. xi. 25 ; Lk. x. 21 ; R. V. mg. ' praise ' : so Meyer, Hahn,
Zahn, also Kennedy, Sources of N. T. Greek, p. 118. Fritzsche: " Gra-
tias tibi ago, quod ". Better, Plummer : "acknowledge openly to thine
honour, give thee praise." Similarly J. A. Alexander.

82 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
life. The narrative is objective throughout in its method.
On two occasions we are told that Jesus felt that occurrences
which he witnessed were extraordinary and experienced the
appropriate emotion of "wonder" regarding them (Mt. viii.
10; Lk. vii 9; Mk. vi. 6).116 Once " desire " is attributed to
him (Lk. xxii. 15), — he had " set his heart ", as we should say,
upon eating the final passover with his disciples — the term used
emphasizing the affectional movement.117 And once our Lord
speaks of himself as being conceivably the subject of
" shame ", the reference being, however, rather to a mode of
action consonant with the emotion, than to the feeling itself
(Mk. viii. 38; Lk. iv. 26). 118 Besides these few chance sugges
tions, there are none of the numerous emotions that rise and
fall in the human soul, which happen to be explicitly attributed
to our Lord.119 The reader sees them all in play in his
vividly narrated life-experiences, but he is not told of them.
We have now passed in review the whole series of explicit
attributions to our Lord in the Gospels of specific emotional
movements. It belongs to the occasional manner in which these
emotional movements find record in the narrative, that it is
only our Lord's most noticeable displays of emotion which are
noted. One of the effects of this is to give to his emotions
118 Qavpd^io: see Schmidt, Synonymik etc., iv. § 165, pp. i84sq. : " it
is perfectly generally ' to wonder ' or 'to admire ', and is distinguished
from Bappe'iv precisely as the German sich wundern, or bewundern is from
staunen: that is, what has seized on us in the case of Bavpd^iv is the
extraordinary nature of the thing while in the case of 0ap.peiv it is the un
expectedness and suddenness of the occurrence." Cf. Art. "Amazement"
in Hasting's DCG. I, pp. 47, 48.
117 '~Eiri0vp.La: see Schmidt, Synonymik, III, § 145, 3, 5; 146, 8; and cf.
J. C. Lambert, art. "Desire" in Hastings' DCG, I, 453.
m"E.Ttaurxtvopai : see Schmidt, Synonymik, III, § 140; Trench Synonyms,
§ § 19, 20. On Shame in our Lord's life cf. James Stalker, Imago Christi,
p. 190, and Thieme, as above, p. in.
U9When Wellhausen (Geschichte Israels? p. 346) says, "There broke
out with him from time to time manifestations of enthusiasm, but to these
elevations of mood there corresponded also depressions," — he is going
beyond the warrant of the narrative, which pictures Jesus rather as sin
gularly equable in his demeanor. Cf. Lutgert, as cited, p. 103.

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 83
as noted the appearance of peculiar strength, vividness and
completeness. This serves to refute the notion which has been
sometimes advanced under the influence of the " apathetic "
conception of virtue, that emotional movements never ran their
full course in him as we experience them, but stopped short
at some point in their action deemed the point of dignity.120
In doing so, it serves equally, however, to carry home to us a
very vivid impression of the truth and reality of our Lord's
human nature. What we are given is, no doubt, only the high
lights. But it is easy to fill in the picture mentally with the
multitude of emotional movements which have not found
record just because they were in no way exceptional. Here
obviously is a being who reacts as we react to the incitements
which arise in daily intercourse with men, and whose reactions
bear all the characteristics of the corresponding emotions we
are familiar with in our experience.
Perhaps it may be well explicitly to note that our Lord's
emotions fulfilled themselves, as ours do, in physical reactions.
He who hungered (Mt. iv. 2), thirsted (Jno. xix. 20), was
weary (Jno. iv. 6), who knew both physical pain and pleasure,
expressed also in bodily affections the emotions that stirred his
soul. That he did so is sufficiently evinced by the simple cir
cumstance that these emotions were observed and recorded.
But the bodily expression of the emotions is also frequently
expressly attested. Not only do we read that he wept (Jno.
xi- 35) and wailed (Lk. xix. 41), sighed (Mk. vii. 34) and
groaned (Mk. viii. 12) ; but we read also of his angry glare
(Mk. iii. 5), his annoyed speech (Mk. x. 14), his chiding
Words (e. g. Mk. iii. 12), the outbreaking ebullition of his
rage (e. g. Jno. xi. 33, 38) ; of the agitation of his bearing
when under strong feeling (Jno. xi. 35), the open exultation
120 Origen, for example, in his comment on Mt. xxvi. 37 lays great
weight on the words : " He began to be ", in the sense that the implica
tion is that he never completed the act. Jesus only entered upon these
emotions, but did not suffer them in their fulness. He was subject to
irpoTrdBeia but not to the irdBi\ themselves. Similarly Cornelius a Lapide
wishes us to believe that Christ instead of " passions " had only " pro-
passiones libere assumptae". For a modern writer approaching this posi
tion, see John Hutchison, The Monthly Interpreter, 1885, II, p. 288.

84 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
of his joy (Lk. x. 21), the unrest of his movements in the
face of anticipated evils (Mt. xxvii. 2>7)> the loud cry which
was wrung from him in his moment of desolation (Mt. xxvii.
46). Nothing is lacking to make the impression strong that
we have before us in Jesus a human being like ourselves.
It is part of the content of this impression, that Jesus ap
pears before us in the light of the play of his emotions as a
distinct human being, with his own individuality and — shall
we not say it? — even temperament. It is, indeed, sometimes
suggested that the Son of God assumed at the incarnation not
a human nature but human nature, that is to say, not human
nature as manifesting itself in an individual, but human nature
in general, " generic " or " universal " human nature. The
idea which it is meant to express, is not a very clear one,121 and
is apparently only a relic of the discountenanced fiction of the
" real " existence of universals. In any case the idea receives
m It is not clear, for example, precisely what is meant by A. J. Mason
(The Conditions of our Lord's Life on Earth, 1896, p. 46), when he
says : " When Christ is called ' a Man ' it sounds as if he were consid
ered only an incidental specimen of the race, like one of ourselves, and not,
as he is in fact, the universal Man, in whom the whole of human nature is
gathered up, — the representative and head of the entire species." What
is a " universal man " ? And how could " the whole of human nature "
be " gathered up " in Jesus, except representatively, — which is not what
is meant — unless universal human nature is an entity with "real exist
ence "? And if even Mason is unintelligible, what shall we say of a writer
like J. P. Lange (Christliche Dogmatik; Zweiter Theil; Positive Dog-
matik, 1881, pp. 770-771) : "The man in the God-man is not an individ
ual man of itself, but the man which takes mankind up into itself, as
mankind has taken nature up into itself. And so it coalesces with the
divine self-limitation, as the Son of God unites with the human limitation.
The man in the God-man embraces the eternal Becoming of the whole
world as it goes forth from God according to the energy of his nature
So it is also radically the real passage of the Becoming through the per
fected Becoming into the absolute Being, and therefore the proper organ
of the Son of God according to his ideal entrance into the absolute Be
coming. It is the limited unlimitation which coalesces with the unlimited
limitation of the divine man, who takes up into itself the human God." It
is only fair to bear in mind, however, that this statement is partly relieved
of its unintelligibility when it is read in connection with Lange's expo
sition of the ideas of man and the God-man in his Philosophical Dog
matics, which, in his system, precedes his Positive Dogmatics.

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 85
no support from a survey of the emotional life of our Lord as
it is presented to us in the Evangelical narratives. The im
pression of a distinct individuality acting in accordance with
its specific character as such, which is left on the mind by these
narratives is very strong. Whether our Lord's human nature
is " generic " or " individual ", it certainly. — the Evangelists
being witness — functioned in the days of his flesh as if it were
individual; and we have the same reason for pronouncing
it an individual human-nature that we have for pronouncing
such any human nature of whose functioning we have knowl
edge.122 This general conclusion is quite independent of the precise
determination of the peculiarity of the individuality which our
Lord exhibits. He himself, on a great occasion, sums up his
individual character (in express contrast with other individ
uals) in the declaration, " I am meek and lowly of heart."
And no impression was left by his life-manifestation more
deeply imprinted upon the consciousness of his followers than
that of the noble humility of his bearing. It was by the " meek
ness and gentleness of Christ " that they encouraged one
another to a life becoming a Christian man's profession (2
Cor. x. 1 ) ; for " the patience of Christ " that they prayed
in behalf of one another as a blessing worthy to be set in their
aspirations by the side of the " love of God " (2 Thess. iii.
5) ; to the imitation of Christ's meek acceptance of undeserved
outrages that they exhorted one another in persecution — " be
cause Christ also suffered for sin, leaving you an example,
that ye should follow in his steps; who did no sin, neither
was guile found in his mouth; who, when he was reviled,
reviled not again; when he suffered, threatened not; but com
mitted himself to him that judgeth righteously" (1 Pet. ii.
122 Cf. A. B. Bruce, The Humiliation of Christ? 1881, pp. 262, and pp.
427-428 : " I see in him traces of strongly marked, though not one-sided
individuality . . . Generally speaking, the reality, not ideality, of the
humanity is the thing that lies on the surface ; although the latter is not to
be denied, nor the many-sidedness which is adduced in proof of it by
Martensen and others." Cf. Martensen, Christian Dogmatics, ET, pp.
28osq. *

86 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
21-23). Nevertheless we cannot fix upon humility as in such
a sense our Lord's " quality " as to obscure in him other
qualities which might seem to stand in conflict with it; much
less as carrying with it those " defects " which are apt to
accompany it when it appears as the " quality " of others.
Meekness in our Lord was not a weak bearing of evils, but a
strong forbearance in the presence of evil. It was not so
much a fundamental characteristic of a nature constitutionally
averse to asserting itself, as a voluntary submission of a strong
person bent on an end. It did not, therefore, so much give
way before indignation when the tension became too great for
it to bear up against it, as coexist with a burning indignation
at all that was evil, in a perfect equipoise which knew no
wavering to this side or that. It was, in a word, only the man
ifestation in him of the mind which looks not on its own
things but the things of others (Phil. ii. 5), and therefore
spells " mission ", not " temperament ". We cannot in any
case define his temperament, as we define other men's tem
peraments, by pointing to his dominant characteristics or
the prevailing direction of his emotional discharges.123 In
this sense he had no particular temperament, and it might
with truth be said that his human nature was generic, not
individual. The mark of his individuality was harmonious
completeness : of him alone of men, it may be truly said that
nothing that is human was alien to him, and that all that is
human manifested itself in him in perfect proportion and
balance. 123 E. P. Boys-Smith, Hastings' DCG, II, p. 163a : " The fulness, balance,
and unity of the Master's nature make it impracticable to use in his case
what is the commonest and readiest way of portraying a person. This is
to throw into the fore-ground of the picture those features in which the
character is exceptionally strong, or those deficiencies which mark it
off from others, and to leave as an unelaborated back-ground the common
stuff of human nature. Thus, by sketching the idiosyncracies, and casting
a few high lights, the man is set forth sufficiently. But what traits are
there in the Lord Jesus which stand out because more highly developed than
other features? Nothing truly human was wanting to him, nothing was
exaggerated. The fact which distinguished him from all others was his
completeness at all points. . ."

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 87
The series of emotions attributed to our Lord in the Evan
gelical narrative, in their variety and their complex but har
monious interaction, illustrate, though, of course, they cannot
of themselves demonstrate, this balanced comprehensiveness
of his individuality. Various as they are, they do n6"t inhibit
one another; compassion and indignation rise together in his
soul; joy and sorrow meet in his heart and kiss each other.
Strong as they are — not mere joy but exultation, not mere
irritated annoyance but raging indignation, not mere passing
pity but the deepest movements of compassion and love, not
mere surface distress but an exceeding sorrow even unto death,
— they never overmaster him. He remains ever in control.124
Calvin is, therefore, not without justification, when, telling
us125 that in taking human affections our Lord did not take
inordinate affections, but kept himself even in his passions in
subjection to the will of the Father, he adds : " In short, if
you compare his passions with ours, they will differ not less
than the clear and pure water, flowing in a gentle course, differs
from dirty and muddy foam." 126 The figure which is here
124 T. B. Kilpatrick, Hastings' DCG, I. pp. 294b-295a: "Yet we are
not to impute to him any unemotional callousness. He never lost his
calmness ; but he was not always calm. He repelled temptation with deep
indignation (Mk. viii. 33). Hypocrisy aroused him to a flame of judgment
(Mk. iii 5, xi. 15-17; Mt. xxiii. 1-36). Treachery shook him to the center
of his being (Jno. xiii. 21). The waves of human sorrow broke over him
with a greater grief than wrung the bereaved sisters (Jno. xi. 33-35)-
There were times when he bore an unknown agony . . . Yet whatever his
soul's discipline might be, he never lost his self-control, was never dis
tracted or afraid, but remained true to his mission and to his faith.
He feels anger, or sorrow, or trouble, but these emotions are under the
control of a will that is one with the divine will, and therefore are com
prehended within the perfect peace of a mind stayed on God." There is
a good deal of rhetorical exaggeration in the language in which the phe
nomena are here described; but for the essence of the matter the repre
sentation is sound : our Lord is always master of himself.
121 Com. on Jno. xi. 35.
126 Fr. Gumlich. TSK, 1862, p. 285 note b, calls on us to "guard our
selves from " Calvin's statement that " his feelings differ from ours as a
pure, untroubled, powerful but onflowing stream from restless, foaming,
muddy waves." But do not his sinless emotions differ precisely so from
our sinful passions?

88 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
employed may, no doubt, be unduly pressed :127 but Calvin has
no intention of suggesting doubt of either the reality or the
strength of our Lord's emotional reactions. He expressly
turns away from the tendency from which even an Augustine
is not free, to reduce the affectional life of our Lord to a mere
show, and commends to us rather, as Scriptural, the simplicity
which affirms that " the Son of God having clothed himself
with our flesh, of his own accord clothed himself also
with human feelings, so that he did not differ at all from
his brethren, sin only excepted." He is only solicitous that,
as Christ did not disdain to stoop to the feeling of our in
firmities, we should be eager, not indeed to eradicate
our affections, " seeking after that inhuman airdOeia com
mended by the Stoics," but " to correct and subdue that obstin
acy which pervades them, on account of the sin of Adam," and
to imitate Christ our Leader, — who is himself the rule of
supreme perfection — in subduing all their excesses. For
Christ, he adds for our encouragement, had this very thing in
view, when he took our affections upon himself — " that
through his power we might subdue everything in them that
is sinful." Thus, Calvin, with his wonted eagerness for re
ligious impression, points to the emotional life of Jesus, not
merely as a proof of his humanity, but as an incitement to
his followers to a holy life accordant with the will of God.
We are not to be content to gaze upon him or to admire him :
we must become imitators of him, until we are metamorphosed
into the same image.
Even this is, of course, not quite the highest note. The
highest note — Calvin does not neglect it — is struck by the
Epistle to the Hebrews, when it declares that " it behooved
him in all things to be made like unto his brethren, that he
121 Piscator enlarges upon it and applies it thus : " Just as pure and
limpid water when mixed with a pure dye if agitated, foams indeed but
is not made turbid; but when mixed with an impure and dirty dye, if
agitated, not only forms foam but is made turbid and dirty ; so the heart of
Christ pure from all imperfection, was indeed agitated by the affections
implanted in human nature, but was soiled by no sin; but our hearts are
so agitated by affections that they are soiled by the sin which inheres in
us."

ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD 89
might be a merciful and faithful High-priest in things pertain
ing to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people "
(Heb. ii. 17). " Surely ", says the Prophet (Is. liii. 4), " he
hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows " — a general
statement to which an Evangelist (Mt. viii. 1) has given a
special application (as a case in point) when he adduces it in
the form, " himself took our infirmities and bore our diseases."
He subjected himself to the conditions of our human life that
he might save us from the evil that curses human life in
its sinful manifestation. When we observe him exhibiting the
movements of his human emotions, we are gazing on the very
process of our salvation: every manifestation of the truth of
our Lord's humanity is an exhibition of the reality of our
redemption. In his sorrows he was bearing our sorrows, and
having passed through a human life like ours, he remains
forever able to be touched with a feeling of our infirmities.
Such a High Priest, in the language of the Epistle to the
Hebrews, " became " us. We needed such an one.128 When
we note the marks of humanity in Jesus Christ, we are observ
ing his fitness to serve our needs. We behold him made a
little lower than the angels for the suffering of death, and our
hearts add our witness that it became him for whom are all
things and through whom are all things, in bringing many
sons unto glory to make the author of their salvation perfect
through suffering.
It is not germane to the present inquiry to enter into the
debate as to whether, in assuming flesh, our Lord assumed the
flesh of fallen or of unfallen man. The right answer, beyond
doubt, is that he assumed the flesh of unfallen man : it is not
for nothing that Paul tells us that he came, not in sinful flesh,
but in "the likeness of sinful flesh" (Ro. viii. 3). But this
does not mean that the flesh he assumed was not under a curse :
it means that the curse under which his flesh rested was not the
curse of Adam's first sin but the curse of the sins of his people :
" him who knew no sin, he made sin in our behalf " ; he who
128 Westcott in loc : " Even our human sense of fitness is able to recog
nize the complete correspondence between the characteristics of Christ as
High Priest and the believers' wants." Davidson, in loc. : " He suited
our necessities and condition."

90 ON THE EMOTIONAL LIFE OF OUR LORD
was not, even as man, under a curse, " became a curse for us ".
He was accursed, not because he became man, but because he
bore the sins of his people; he suffered and died not because
of the flesh he took but because of the sins he took. He was,
no doubt, born of a woman, born under the law (Gal. iv. 4), in
one concrete act; he issued from the Virgin's womb already our
sin-bearer. But he was not sin-bearer because made of a
woman; he was made of a woman that he might become sin-
bearer; it was because of the suffering of death that he
was made a little lower than the angels (Heb. ii. 9). It is
germane to our inquiry, therefore, to take note of the fact that
among the emotions which are attested as having found place
in our Lord's life-experiences, there are those which belong to
him not as man but as sin-bearer, which never would have
invaded his soul in the purity of his humanity save as he stood
under the curse incurred for his people's sins. The whole series
of his emotions are, no doubt, affected by his position under the
curse. Even his compassion receives from this a special qual
ity : is this not included in the great declaration of Heb. iv. 15 ?
Can we doubt that his anger against the powers of evil which
afflict man, borrowed particular force from his own experience
of their baneful working? And the sorrows and dreads which
constricted his heart in the prospect of death, culminating in
the extreme anguish of the dereliction, — do not these consti
tute the very substance of his atoning sufferings? As we sur
vey the emotional life of our Lord as depicted by the Evangel
ists, therefore, let us not permit it to slip out of sight, that
we are not only observing the proofs of the truth of his human
ity, and not merely regarding the most perfect example of a
human life which is afforded by histoiy, but are contemplating
the atoning work of the Saviour in its fundamental elements.
The cup which he drank to its bitter dregs was not his cup but
our cup; and he needed to drink it only because he was set
upon our salvation.

THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL
An Address on Isaiah ix. 5 and 6 (English Version
6 and 7)
John D. Davis

The Messianic element in the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, Chapters vii-xii.
The child of chapter ix. Three constructions given to the words
of the name. The expectation awakened by the title Wonderful.
The title that is translated Mighty God. The title that is ren
dered Everlasting Father. The upholding of the kingdom. The
attributes of the Messiah in the light of similar phenomena in
Scripture, particularly identification with, yet distinctness from,
Jehovah.

THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL1
Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government
shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful,
Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the
increase of his government and of peace there shall be no end, upon the
throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to establish it, and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness from henceforth even for ever. The
zeal of Jehovah of hosts will perform this (Isaiah ix. 5, 6: English
version 6, 7; American revision.)
These words of the prophet are apt to send the music of
Handel's Messiah surging through the mind. We hear again
the burst and volume of sound and the crash of instruments
as these names are repeated one after the other and emphasized
by the beat of the loud kettledrum. One cannot do better,
when meditating on these verses, than allow the strains of the
oratorio to form an accompaniment to the thought and exalt
the spirit ; for Handel made no mistake in giving this prophetic
utterance a place in an oratorio of the Messiah. The verses are
found in that section of the prophecies of Isaiah, extending
from chapter vii. to chapter xii., which has received the title
The Book of Immanuel or The Consolation of Immanuel2
1 An address.
2 Immanuel (Is. vii. 14) , however, is not understood by all students of
prophecy to be the Messianic king. The main counter-theories are two:
1. Immanuel is not an individual; but is the representative of a new
generation, the regenerate Judah. So von Hofmann, Budde (New World,
1895, p. 739), Kuenen (Einleitung, II. S. 41). Dillmann guardedly says
that Immanuel, "if not the future Messiah himself, is at least the begin
ning and representative of the new generation, out of which finally one
occupies the throne (Commentar, 5te Aufl., S. 74). Smend, too, once
held this view (Lehrbuch der alttestamentlichen Religionsgeschichte, S
215), but he has retracted it in favor of Immanuel's identity with the
Messiah (2te Aufl., S. 229).
2. Any boy, born within a year, may be properly called Immanuel by
his mother as a memorial that God's active presence has been manifested

94 THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL
(Delitzsch). In these six chapters prophecies regarding the
promised deliverer of Israel follow each other in rapid suc
cession. The whole section is aglow with the Messianic glory.
Judgment, indeed, is predicted ; but it is transfigured and glori
fied by the hope centered in the remnant of Judah and in the
ideal son of David (Giesebrecht, Beitrdge zur Jesaiakritik, S.
87) . And this particular passage in the ninth chapter of Isaiah
has its own distinguishing Messianic marks. There are those,
it is true, who question its authorship and the date when it was
uttered; but questions of date and authorship do not obscure
in Judah ; and the lad's increasing years will serve conveniently to meas
ure the time of predicted events. Such substantially is the interpretation
given by Roorda (Orientalia, 1840 I. 130-135), W. Robertson Smith (The
Prophets of Israel, new ed., p. 272), Giesebrecht (Studien und Kritiken,
1888, S. 218 and Anm. 1), Hackmann (Zukunftserwartung des Jesaia, S.
63, 161), Volz (V orexilische Jahweprophetie und der Messias, S. 41),
Marti (Kurzer Hand-commentar : Jesaja, S. 76), and Schultz (Alttesta-
mentliche Theologie, 5te Aufl., S. 615, 616), who, however, prefers to re
gard Immanuel as the prophet's son, and the bestowal of the name as a
pledge that God will not forsake his people. Compare Kirkpatrick (The
Doctrine of the Prophets, p. 189-191), who explains that a mother "may
with confidence give him a name significant of the Presence of God with
His people. That Presence will be manifested in deliverance and in
judgement. . . . He is the pledge for his generation of the truth ex
pressed in his name." Duhm's curious modification may be included in
this class. He believes that superstitious meaning was attributed to the
first words spoken by a woman after the birth of her child. The
utterance was regarded as an oracle, and was used as a name for the
new-born child. In the moment that the Syrians are obliged to withdraw
God will prompt some woman, who has just borne a son, to call out
Immanuel, God with us (Handkom-mentar sum Alten Testament: Jesaia,
S. 53 f).
In the judgment of Duhm, Hackmann, Volz, Marti, the genuineness of
vii. 15 and 17 must be denied and the verses exscinded. It is significant
that according to Duhm (S. 54), Volz (S. 41), Marti (S. yy, 85), Nowack
(Die kleinen Propheten, on Mic. v. 2 [3]), and Wellhausen (Die kleinen
Propheten, Mic. v. 2), the existence of passages like Is. vii. 15 and
Mic. v. 2 [3], and Immanuel in Is. viii. 8, 10, prove that even in Old
Testament times Immanuel in Is. vii. 14 was understood to be the Messiah.
Umbreit "cannot with entire confidence explain vii. 14 as Messianic;"
and Nowack is unable to convince himself of the correctness of the
Messianic interpretation of it (Theologische Abhandlungen . . . fiir
Heinrich Julius Holtzmann dargebracht, S. 58).

THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL

95

the identity of the person upon whom the prophet's gaze is fixed.
The child is the Messiah. Noted Jewish commentators, in
deed, have explained him to be Hezekiah. This explanation
was given by Solomon Jarchi, Abenezra, and David Kimchi
during the Middle Ages, by Luzzatto in the middle of the
nineteenth century, and yet more recently in Jewish circles by
the Orientalist James Darmesteter {Les Prophetes d'lsrael,
1892, p. 60), the historian David Cassel (Geschichte der
judischen Literatur, 1873, iste Abth., 2ter Abschnitt S. 182,
Anm. 4), and by Professor Barth (Beitrdge zur Erkldrung des
Jesaias, 1885, S. 15 ff.) ; and it lives among the rabbis (J. H.
Schwarz, Geschichtliche Entstehung der messianischen Idee des
Judenthums, S. 39; Hirsch, Das Buch lesaia). The same
interpretation was offered by Grotius, Hensler, Paulus, Ge-
senius, Hendewerk; but was rejected by their contemporaries
Cocceius, Vitringa, Eichhorn, Rosenmiiller; and its general
rejection by the more recent exegetes has made clear that it
cannot be held (Hackmann, S. 130). The main reasons
for dismissing it are sufficiently stated in the words of Dill-
mann: 1. "All the tenses from viii. 23", onward relate
either to the past or to the future; the impossibility of
referring viii. 23", ix. 3, 4 to actual events of history
is clear." There is a look forward into the future. (Cf.
also Alexander.) 2. The titles given to the child " can be un
derstood of Hezekiah only in greatly weakened manner " (so
already Vitringa; and cp. Rosenmiiller). 3. "From viii. 9,
10, 16-18 it follows with certainty that Isaiah is treating of
hopes belonging to the ideal future. And if the Messianic
hope is certain in chapter xi., what interest has one to remove
it from this passage [in the ninth chapter] by unnatural in
terpretations ? " Modern exegesis and criticism have given
their verdict: Without doubt the child is the great king of
the future, of the house and lineage of David.3
The composer of the oratorio was right, too, in calling to
3 "The child of chap. 9 ... is admitted, on all hands, to be the
Messiah of the house of David " (A. B. Davidson, Old Testament
Prophecy, p. 357) ; e. g., within the last quarter of a century by Briggs,
Cheyne, Driver, G. A. Smith, Kirkpatrick, Skinner, Davidson, Dillmann,

96 THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL
his aid all the resources of the orchestra for a burst of triumph
ant music at the mention of each name in the manifold title
of the Messiah. For the prophet is bringing to the people of
God tidings of greatest joy. He tells them, as they sit in
darkness and despair, that the night is passing and the dawn
is drawing nigh. Sorrow is vanquished forever, conflict ended,
peace at last. The prophet proclaims to the oppressed people
of God the advent of their deliverer, enumerates one by one
his superb qualities, discloses his sufficiency for the task im
posed upon him, and describes the peace without end under
his beneficent reign.
Three principal interpretations have been proposed for the
name. i. The child's name is merely Prince of Peace (Solo
mon Jarchi, David Kimchi, and recently Rabbi Hirsch). The
other exalted epithets are titles of God. The translation should
be: The Wonderful, the Counsellor, the mighty God calls his
name Prince of Peace. There is, however, a fatal objection
to this translation; namely, the order of the words. In He
brew the word ' name ' cannot be separated by the subject of
the sentence from the name itself. There is no exception to
this rule. Cocceius demonstrated the fact {C onsideratio respon-
sionis Judaicae, cap. vi. 14) ;4 and since his day, the middle of
the seventeenth century, this interpretation of the name has
had no standing before a court of scholars.
2. It has been proposed to take all the titles, given to the
child, together and read them as a sentence. Names that con
sist of a sentence are the rule rather than the exception in the
Hebrew literature that is preserved in the Old Testament. To
be sure there are names like Terah, ' wild goat ', Deborah, ' a
bee ', Barak, ' lightning ', Hannah, ' grace ', Saul, ' asked ',
Amos, ' a burden ', Jonah, ' a dove ', Nahum, ' compassionate '.
But the majority of proper names are sentences, as Ishmael,
Kuenen, Guthe (Zukunftsbild des Jesaia), Giesebrecht, Duhm, Cornill
(Der israelitische Prophetismus", S. 60), Hackmann, Volz, Marti, Smend,
Nowack). * Calvin had already stated that the order of words makes it impossible
to construe all the titles, from Wonderful to Prince of Peace inclusive, as
the subject of the verb call and thus obtain the meaning that God names
the child.

THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL 97
Israel, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel; and not a few are
comparatively long sentences, and sometimes contain a direct
object. Such are the names of Isaiah's two sons, Shear-ja-
shub, ' a remnant shall return ', and Maher-shalal-hash-baz,
that is, ' spoil speedeth, prey hasteth ' ; also Micaiah, ' who is
like Jehovah? ', and Elihoenai, ' my eyes are toward Jehovah ',
and Romamti-ezer, ' I have exalted him who is a help ', and
Tob-adonijah, ' good is my Lord Jehovah '. Even Immanuel
is a sentence : ' God is with us '. Following such analogies it
has been proposed to read all the words in the name given to
the child as a sentence. A verb is needed. Now the word
rendered ' counsellor ' is in fact a participle, ' the counseling
one '. Instead of treating it as a noun denoting the agent, it
is taken as the verb of the sentence. Then the first word,
' wonderful ', is construed as the direct object, and is under
stood to have been placed at the beginning of the sentence for
the sake of emphasis. All the words that follow ' counsellor '
are regarded as titles of God and are construed as the subject.
The sentence then reads : The mighty God, the everlasting
Father, the Prince of Peace is counseling a wonderful thing.
The prophet announces the birth of a child whose name being
interpreted shall be, A wonderful thing does God the strong,
the eternal father, the prince of peace, resolve. Luzzatto
advanced this interpretation. It has caused merriment among
solemn commentators. Dillmann calls it an unparalleled mon
strosity, and Delitzsch speaks of it as a sesquipedalian name.
The jest is dropped and objections are formally stated. " If
the intention is to emphasize the Divine wisdom, why accum
ulate epithets of God which do not contribute to that object? "
(Cheyne). "Why employ the participle instead of the usual
verbal form, viz., the imperfect or perfect? " (Cheyne, Duhm).
Finally the title of ' Prince of Peace ' belongs to the child and
not to God according to the unmistakable context.
3. The several words or word-groups are so many titles
descriptive of the child. He is wonderful, he is a counselor,
he is the mighty God, he is the everlasting father, he is the
prince of peace. There are a number of familiar analogues
to this composite name. Thus in the New Testament our

98 THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL
blessed Master is frequently entitled Lord Jesus Christ. He
is our Lord; he is Jesus, for he saves his people from their
sins; he is the Christ, the long expected Messiah (see also
Is. lviii. 12, lxii. 12; Amos iv. 13; Rev. xvii. 5, xix. 16).
In the name of the child the number of titles is counted
variously : six, as in the Vulgate and in Luther's Bible ; five, as
in the English version; or four, as on the margin of the re
vised version, each title being a pair of words. The very first
of these titles, on any enumeration, introduces the child to us
as an extraordinary person. A noun, great enough in meaning
to denote the wonders wrought by the God of Israel (Ex.
xv. 11; Ps. lxxvii. 14, lxxviii. 12; Is. xxv. 1; cf. Judg.
xiii. 18), describes the character of the child. Undue impor
tance is not attached to this fact; still the word does betoken
the peculiar greatness of the child, and prepares the mind for
the exalted predicates that follow; and when combined with
its next neighbor so as to yield the meaning "A very wonder of
a counselor," the title associates the child in a measure with
"Jehovah, who is wonderful in counsel" (Is. xxviii. 29).
Of these titles two, in the familiar translation Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, at once attract attention. Marvelous at
tributes for a son of David! What explanation is possible?
Regarding the title which is rendered Mighty God, one may
be tempted to see a formal similarity between 'el gibbor, mighty
God, and 'eley gibborim in Ezek. xxxii. 21, and in this
latter verse seek the meaning of the title. The words of Ezek
iel are rendered in the English version by " the strong among
the mighty " (so also by Delitzsch, Messianische Weissagung-
en, S. 101 ). They may be translated literally, " the strong of
the mighty, where ' strong ' is not a class among the mighty,
but identical with them — the strong mighty ones, genitive of
apposition (A. B. Davidson in Cambridge Bible; Ezekiel).
Thus regarded, the phrase on its face might appear to be merely
the plural of the Messianic title 'el gibbor (G. A. Smith, Expos
itor's Bible: The Book of Isaiah, p. 137). The title accord
ingly would mean, not ' a very god of a hero ', but ' the strong
mighty one '. This construction is outwardly the same as that
of the three other Messianic titles (when the number is thought

THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL 99
of as four), since in each case a noun stands in the construct
relation before another noun; but it yields a meaning that is
not symmetrical with their meaning. The epithet strong mighty
one is a form of words unlike that seen in ' wonder of a coun
selor ', ' father of eternity ', and ' prince of peace '. A dif
ferent interpretation is offered by Gesenius. He includes
' hero ' among the meanings which he assigns to the word 'el
(also Brown, Hebrew and English Lexicon), and renders the
title in Is. ix. 5 by 'mighty hero' (Thesaurus). On this in
terpretation symmetry of construction does not exist among the
titles. Dillmann denies that 'el is attested as meaning ' hero '
by Ezek. xxxii. 2 1 , xxxi. 1 1 , since in those passages 'ayil, ' ram ',
' leader ', may be at the basis of the forms (Commentar5 S. 94;
Alttestamentliche Theologie, S. 210; Commentar zu Exodus
xv. 15; so also Buhl's edition of Gesenius' Handworterbuch,
and Siegfried-Stade, Hebrdisches Worterbuch) ; and he re
tains the meaning God in the Messianic title. But Dillmann
does not adopt the rendering " a mighty God ". Following
Roorda (Orientalia, i. 173) he prefers the translation "a god
of a hero ", because the three other names are formed by
means of the construct state. There is attractiveness in this
argument from symmetry. Then, too, each of the four titles
consists of three syllables in Hebrew (if the word for 'won
der', being a segholate, is pronounced as one syllable). And
the theory receives some confirmation from the symmetrical
form of the name given to Isaiah's son Maher-shalal-hash-baz,
' Spoil speedeth, prey hasteth '. In the name of the prophet's
son the symmetry is both external and internal, both in form
and meaning. But in the name of the Messianic king, if the
second title is rendered ' a god of a hero ', the symmetry of the
four titles is external only. It extends to the use of the con
struct relation, and perhaps to the trisyllabic form, but ends
there ; for even on the translation ' wonder of a counselor ',
' god of a hero ', ' father of booty ', or ' father of perpetuity ',
' prince of peace ', while the first and second titles would be
similar in construction and force, they would not be similar
in force with either the third or the fourth. Assuming, how
ever, the correctness of the attractive theory that symmetry of

IOO THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL
construction does belong to each of the four titles so that in
each case the first word of the pair is in the construct state be
fore the second word, the second title may still be properly
rendered ' mighty God ' ; for a noun not infrequently stands in
the construct state before its adjective or, as the matter is
sometimes stated, before an adjective treated as an abstract
noun (Is. xvii. 10, xxii. 24, xxviii. 4, xxxvi. 2; Ps. lxxiii. 10,
lxxiv. 15; Prov. vi. 24). On this construction ' mighty God '
is the correct rendering of the title.
Two arguments in particular have had weight with exegetes
against any other rendering than ' mighty God '.
1. The Hebrew word 'el is always used by the prophet
Isaiah in the high sense of God (Delitzsch), always "in an ab
solute sense .... never hyperbolically or metaphorically "
(Cheyne). 2. In the very next chapter exactly the same
phrase means 'the mighty God' (x. 21 ).5 The phrase was
traditional among the Hebrews as a title of God (Deut. x. 17;
Jer. xxxii. 18 ; Neh. ix. 32). The consideration of such facts as
these drove Luzzatto to the expedient of combining the titles
into a sentence, in order that he might retain the sense of
' mighty God ' without admitting it to be descriptive of the
Davidic king. And Gressmann, whose premises allow him
a free hand in exegesis, remarks : " Whatever the explanation
be, the fact itself stands fast : a divine attribute is here assigned
to the Messiah" (S. 282).
5 The attribution of x. 21 to a different author than the writer of ix. 5
does not destroy the force of these facts, for the usage of the phrase
as an exalted title of God is still attested by x. 21. Nor is escape to be
had by referring the title in both passages to the messianic king (Marti;
Mitchell, Isaiah, p. 212) ; for even assuming that it does denote the king
in the two passages, it must still be translated mighty God or given an
equivalent rendering (Delitzsch; von Orelli), in accordance with the
uniform usage of the word 'el, God, in the book of Isaiah and with the
traditional meaning of the title. The reference of x. 21, moreover, is to
Jehovah rather than to his Anointed (Gesenius; Ewald; Riehm, 116;
Dillmann; Schultz, 611; Cheyne; Driver, 71; Kirkpatrick2, 193; Smend2,
232; Skinner; Volz, 41; Gressmann, 281), for "it is Jehovah who acts
alone throughout this part of the prophecy" (Cheyne, Prophecies of
Isaiah*, y3), in the paragraphs comprised in verses 16-34 (Ewald, Pro
pheten2, ii. 461).

THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL 101
What does this great title ' mighty God ' signify when be
stowed upon the Messianic king? i. Ilgen lightly dismisses it
as the flattery of a court poet (Paulus' Memorabilia, vii. 152).
But in times of dire distress (Is. viii. 22, 23), flattery is
seldom heard. The hope of deliverance held out to the op
pressed people of God by the prophet would be a mockery of
their plight were it based on empty or extravagant term's in
which he spoke to them of the promised deliverer. The re
mark may be made at this point that the titles given by the
prophet to the Messianic king are often compared by commen
tators with the epithets found in addresses to the ancient rulers
who held sway in the valleys of the Nile and the Tigris. The
comparison is sometimes made in order to discount the value of
the titles given to the Messiah. But the epithets bestowed by
the Babylonians, Assyrians, and Egyptians upon their kings
were not always words of flattery. They often deserve respect,
notably in ancient Egypt; for very frequently they express
deep conviction and reveal genuine faith.
2. The title ' mighty God ' is explained as given to the
Messianic king by popular hyperbole (Hitzig, Duhm). But
even in extravagance of speech the Hebrews did not employ a
form of words that might suggest even superficially identifica
tion with God. They make plain that comparison only is in
tended, and are careful to introduce a term that expresses
comparison (Gen. xxxiii. 10; Ex. iv. 16, Zech. xii. 8; also
1 Sam. xxix. 9; 2 Sam. xiv. 17, xix. 27); and they use
the word 'elohim, not 'el (Cheyne, Prophecies of Isaiah?
p. 62). Quite different is Ex. vii. 1, 2. There Jehovah
speaks, and not man. Jehovah makes Moses a god to Pha
raoh; puts Moses in the place of God to Pharaoh, makes him
the authoritative representative of God at the Egyptian court,
to speak the words that God himself commands and do the
deeds that God bids and empowers him to do. The passage
demands and illustrates a far higher interpretation of Messiah's
title than the explanation which sees nothing in it but hyperbole.
3. The Messiah is called God, not in a metaphysical sense,
but as equipped of God with power that exceeds the human
measure, by reason of the Spirit of God that rests upon him;

102 THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL
Is. xi. 2 ; Mic. v. 3 [4] ; Zech. xii. 8 (Dillmann, Isaiah5 S.
94; Alttestamentliche Theologie, S. 530 f ; Marti on ix. 5 and
xi. 2). The Messianic king is thus a glorified Samson. He
is a purely human figure, but one whom the Spirit of God fills
with might. He will not be a fitful deliverer of the people
like Samson, upon whom the Spirit of God came occasionally ;
but he will be a king permanently armed with might by the
abiding presence of the Spirit. This explanation contains a
precious truth (xi. 2; cp. Mat. xii. 28), but it does not set
forth all the facts.
4. Perhaps, then, the prophet, when he uses the title
' mighty God ', thinks of " the Messiah, somewhat as the
Egyptians, Assyrians, and Babylonians regarded their king,
as an earthly representative of Divinity " (Cheyne, Prophecies
of Isaiah,3 p. 61, referring to Is. xiv. 13). 6 If by this is
meant " the Oriental belief in kings as incarnations of the
Divine" (Cheyne on Is. xiv. 13; Rosenmiiller on Is. ix. 5,
deum natura humana indutum), a term, ' incarnation ', is used
to which a vague signification must be given, and not its
technical theological sense. The ancient Hebrews believed, in
deed, that Jehovah might manifest himself in human form,
and had occasionally so manifested himself on earth (Gen.
xviii. 1, 33) ; but that is quite different from an incarnation
of himself in a son of man. And it is not the idea in Is. ix. 5,
where a descendant of David is called mighty God; nor is it
the Egyptian belief regarding the king, who was a son of man,
and yet somehow a manifestation of the deity. In Egypt the
king was addressed as god, regarded as the presence of the
god, and approached with prayer and offerings (Wiedemann,
Religion der alten Aegypter, S. 92 ; Brugsch, Aegyptologie, S.
203 ; Maspero, Damn of Civilization, pp. 262-265 ) . A certain
" It is proper to remark that in his more recent work, The Book of the
Prophet Isaiah: A new English Translation, 1898, p. 145, Professor
Cheyne, speaking of the title 'el gibbor in ix. 5, refers to x. 21, " which
shows ", he says, " that we are not to render divine hero [but Mighty
Divinity (p. 15)] : the king seems to Isaiah, in his lofty enthusiasm, like
one of those angels (as we moderns call them), who in old time were
said to mix with men, and even contend with them, and who, as super
human beings, were called by the name of 'el (Gen. xxxii. 22-32).

THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL 103
vagueness remains about this Egyptian belief, even after the
matter has been stated. Perhaps the conception was vague in
the Egyptian mind ; but at least these three features appear in
their attitude toward the king. Professor Cheyne suggests
that the prophet conceived of the Messiah, " somewhat as the
Egyptians . . . regarded their king, as an earthly rep
resentative of divinity." If so, it was evidently a profound
conception which the prophet entertained concerning the na
ture of the Messiah, and corresponded more closely with the
revelation of himself made by the Christ than some exegetes
have been willing to believe.
A just appreciation of the greatness of the idea which the
Messianic title ' mighty God' conveyed to the Israelites may
be formed by a consideration of the following facts. The
Hebrews could readily think of a human being as a representa
tive of God, and speak of the representative as God ('"lohim).
Judges, as the representatives of God and invested with his au
thority, are called gods (Ps. lxxxii. 1, 6; cp. Ex. xxii. 8, 9, 28).
The conception becomes larger as the authority and power of
God's representative increase. When Jehovah sent Moses as
his agent and representative to the court of Pharaoh, made
him superior to the Egyptian monarch, appointed him to lay
commands upon Pharaoh, and empowered him to enforce
obedience, he made Moses a god to Pharaoh (Ex. vii. 1 ). All
this and more is true of the Messiah. A son of man, heir to the
throne of Judah, he is declared to be the representative of Jeho
vah, in the place of God on the throne; he is clothed with
power unceasingly by the divine Spirit, and rules in the strength
and majesty of Jehovah (Is. xi. 2, Mic. v. 4) ; and he is
hailed by the prophet, or at least named, ' Mighty God * .
No other human representative of God, equipped though this
representative be by the Spirit, no judge, no prophet, no
king, not even Moses, is ever called ' Mighty God '.
That title is given to Jehovah alone and the Messiah. Let no
one say to himself that " the Prince is only called by " this
name. " It is not said that he is, but that he shall be called "
the mighty God (Geo. A. Smith, The Book of Isaiah, p. 140).
To argue thus is to deceive oneself. The meaning of the

104 THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL
prophet is clear. It is written in the fourth chapter of Isaiah
that, when the judgment has passed and Zion has been purified
of dross, " he that remaineth in Jerusalem shall be called holy ".
The prophet does not mean that in the new Jerusalem the in
habitants shall be nominally holy. He means that they shall
in truth be holy. Again it is recorded that the angel said unto
Mary : " The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power
of the Highest shall overshadow thee : therefore also that holy
thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of
God." He shall not be nominally divine, but actually. Even
so the king whose advent the prophet announces is called
' Prince of Peace ' and ' Mighty God ', because he is such.
Leaving this title for the present, we turn to that one which
is rendered ' Everlasting Father '. This name of the Messiah,
'" bi 'ad, has been interpreted as meaning ' possessor of etern
ity ' (Dathe, Hengstenberg, Guthe), in accordance with the
well-known Arabic idiom. The employment of the word
' father ' in construction with a noun for the purpose of para
phrasing an adjective is not attested with certainty in Hebrew.
Perhaps it is so used in proper names, like Absalom; but in
every case a different interpretation is possible. The title has
also been rendered ' Booty-father ', and sometimes explained
as meaning a distributor of booty. The word 'ad in the sense
of booty is very rare, but this meaning is fully attested for it
by Gen. xlix. 2j. A stubborn fact lies against the translation
' Booty-father '. " The meaning is, owner, possessor, or dis
tributor of booty " (Briggs, Messianic Prophecy, p. 200). The
word ' father ' is thus given an interpretation that " verges on
the unprovable sense of possessor" (Marti). And in partic
ular the word father is never used in the sense of distributor.
Nor does the title mean ' Producer or provider of booty '
(Siegfried-Stade, Wdrterbuch, art. 'ad; cp. art. 'ab) ; for al
though 'ab is used tropically for the creator, who calls a thing
into existence, and can be employed figuratively to denote a
kindly provider, the assigned meaning, unless most carefully
restricted, makes plunder an end sought in the conflict, and not
the mere result of victory, and introduces into the description
the spirit of selfish gloating over the rich spoil, whereas the

THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL 105
salvation of the people and the reign of peace are the absorbing
hope. Finally, the general objection to every interpretation
which employs the word booty in the title is that the thought
yielded thereby is incongruous among these designations of
the Messianic king, and is too meager in content, when the
preceding title is rendered mighty God ; and for this rendering
of the preceding title substantial reasons exist. It is exegeti-
cally needful, therefore, to give to the word 'ad in the Messi
anic title its customary sense of endurance, continuance, and
render the title ' father of endurance ' and understand the
designation to denote a continual father, one who enduringly
acts as a father to his people (Gesenius, Delitzsch, Dillmann,
Riehm, Cheyne, Skinner, Marti). Is any limitation to be
placed on the word continuance? None that appears. The
Hebrew word may denote eternity, and not a few representa
tive exegetes understand it in that sense in this Messianic
title (e. g. Hengstenberg, Alexander, Delitzsch, Cheyne, Gress
mann). But it does not necessarily signify endless time. A
prepositional phrase formed with it is rendered forever, and
has a latitude of meaning similar to that of the English word
'always' (Ps. xix. 9 [10] ; xxii. 26 [2y] ; lxxxix. 29 [30] ;
cxii. 3; Prov. xxix. 14; Amos i. 11, "perpetually"; Mic.
vii. 18; cp. "of old", Job. xx. 4). In the five cases where
it is used in combination with a noun, as in the Messianic
title, it certainly means very long time, unbounded time.
Babylon fondly expected to be " a lady forever " (Is. xlvii.
7, see Hitzig, Cheyne, Duhm, Marti; literally, a mistress of
duration). No limit is set or even thought of by the
proud city of the Chaldeans, no time when she shall cease
to be. The 'mountains of duration' (Gen. xlix. 26; Hab.
iii. 6) are well spoken of as everlasting hills, eternal moun
tains. 'Ages of duration' (Is. xiv. 17) mean world with
out end, all eternity. And Is. lvii. 15 must be translated " the
high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity ". In the title of
the Messianic king the word bears in it a like fulness of mean
ing; for nowhere in prophecy is it intimated that the Messiah
shall cease to reign. No limit of time is set to his administra
tion. In fact, this particular title is explicit. It contains a

106 THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL
word for the express purpose of withholding bounds of time
from the Messiah's activity. He shall enduringly act as a
father to his people.
The Messianic king comes with the qualifications signified
by the titles for a definite beneficent purpose, which the pro
phet proceeds to state : namely, for the expansion of the rule,
and for welfare without end over David's throne and kingdom,
in order to establish the kingdom and to uphold it by means of
justice and righteousness which he exercises from henceforth
even forever. As one maintains his bodily strength by a mor
sel of bread (Judg. xix. 5), as God's right hand supports one,
and his mercy holds one up, when one's foot slippeth (Ps. xviii.
35 [36]. xciv. 18), as a king upholdeth his throne by mercy
(Prov. xx. 28) ; so the Messianic king upholds the throne of
David forever by justice which he administers and by righteous
ness which he exercises (se dakah, not sedek). If the uphold
ing hand is withdrawn, the faint and feeble fall; if the bread
is withheld, the strength fails; if justice and righteousness are
not exercised, the throne totters. This prophecy is a distinct
advance over the promise made to David by the prophet Na
than. The promise is that God will make David a house and
establish the throne of David and of David's son forever (2
Sam. vii. 16, 19). But the prophet Isaiah declares that the
Messianic king himself shall uphold the kingdom forever. To
deny that a perpetual reign is promised the child (Marti), and
to assert that the reference is " to the rule of David's descend
ants " (Duhm), is arbitrary and not drawn from the words
of the prophet. Professor Cheyne, commenting on the words
" from henceforth even forever ", states the matter thus :
" Two meanings are exegetically possible : 1. That the Messiah
shall live an immortal life on earth, and, 2. That there shall be
an uninterrupted succession of princes of his house. The lat
ter is favored by 2 Sam. vii. 12-16; comp. Ps. xxi. 4, lxi. 6, 7;
but the former seems to me more in accordance with the general
tenor of the description." Certainly it is; for, 1. The prophecy
marks a distinct advance over the promise of 2 Sam. vii. 16
and 19. 2. Unto us a child is born. It is a solitary figure in
whom the hope of the nation rests. 3. To the prophet the final

THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL

107

stage of history has been reached, and he beholds the prince
upholding the kingdom. 4. No prophet ever contemplates an
end of Messiah's reign or speaks of Messiah's successors.
" Were the Messiah to cease to be, how could the Lord's people
maintain their ground " (Cheyne). Whether the Messiah lives
an immortal life on earth or on earth and in heaven, need not
be discussed (Mt. xxviii. 20).
The results of this study so far are : 1 . The title ' Mighty
God ' indicates a personage of peculiar exaltation. No one
save this king and Jehovah is called ' Mighty God '. 2. The
title ' Father of duration ' not only describes him as the father
of his people, but assigns to his fatherly activity duration from
which bounds of time are expressly withheld. 3. The predic
tion that the Messiah shall uphold the kingdom of David for
ever demands in accordance with the usage of the word, the
tenor of the passage, and the drift of other prophecies of the
pre-exilic period the perpetuity of his reign. These three
declarations are complementary and mutually explanatory.
He is mighty God; a father to his people during long, un
bounded time; and upholds the kingdom forever. At the
same time the Messianic king is a man, a descendant of David
(xi. 1). A problem is here; yet it cannot be solved by the at
tempt to tone down the declarations concerning this child until
they sound applicable to a human being. For not only have the
titles shown inherent power to maintain themselves in full
strength and value in biblical interpretation ; but nothing would
be gained by the method, if successful, for the fundamental
question does not concern the Messianic king alone. The
underlying conception of identity with Jehovah and possession
of his attributes, yet distinctness from him, comes to the front
elsewhere in the Hebrew Scriptures. It is met in connection
with the angel of the Lord and also with the suffering servant
of the Lord, on any interpretation of the fifty-third chapter of
Isaiah which does not neglect the doctrine taught in Israel in
the prophet's day concerning sin and atonement (Davis, Dic
tionary of the Bible,3 art. Servant of the Lord). The illustra
tion afforded by the angel of the Lord must suffice for the
present discussion, although the important particular of human

108 THE CHILD WHOSE NAME IS WONDERFUL
descent is not involved in it as in the case of the Messiah.
Mention is made of an angel, and under the circumstances
it is proper always to think of the same angel, who is distin
guished from Jehovah, and yet is identified with him (Gen.
xvi. 10, 13, xviii. 2, 33, xxii. 11-16, xxxi. 11, 13; Ex. iii. 2, 4;
Josh. v. 13-15, vi. 2; Zech. i. 10-13, iii. 1, 2), who revealed the
face of God (Gen. xxxii. 30), in whom was Jehovah's name
(Ex. xxiii. 21), and whose presence was equivalent to Jeho
vah's presence (Ex. xxxii. 34, xxxiii. 14; Is. lxiii. 9).
The angel of the Lord thus appears as a manifestation of Jeho
vah himself, one with Jehovah and yet distinguishable from
him. How these things could be is not explained ; but the idea
was familiar. The objection has been raised that neither the
prophet nor his hearers " conceived of the Messiah, with the
conceiving of Christian theology, as a separate Divine personal
ity " (Geo. A. Smith, The Book of Isaiah, p. 137). Well,
what if they did not? The conception of distinct persons in
the Godhead may have been formed in the minds of men later,
and be quite true. Likewise the formulated doctrine of the
incarnation; it came later because important facts on which it
rests came to man's knowledge later. The Messiah, a descend
ant of David, is simply given a unique divine name and spoken
of as the possessor of divine attributes. No explanation is of
fered, no theory advanced. It is enough to know that in the.
days of the prophets the conception of identity with, yet dis-
tinguishableness from, Jehovah was present in Hebrew thought
and was consistent with the pure monotheism which was taught
in Israel.

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
John DeWitt

Introduction. Relations between New England and Princeton. Edwards'
self-consistent career. His dominating and unifying quality.
Edwards and Emerson. Likenesses and contrasts. Spirituality
the characteristic of each.
I. Edwards' Spirituality. In what sense a racial trait intensified by
Puritanism. Its manifestations, in his vision of the spiritual uni
verse, his self-interpretation, his style, his emotional life, the
work he did, his habits, his limitations.
II. His intellect and work. Calvin and Luther greater than Edwards.
Edwards' subtlety of intellect. His likeness to Anselm of Canter
bury. Lack of historical culture and spirit. His three capital
gifts. His distinct and complete world-view. His purpose to
embody it in the History of Redemption frustrated by death. His
portrayal and analysis of the religious life. His contributions to
theological science. The impetus he gave to theological specula
tion and construction. The polemic against his Freedom of the
WiU. The attack on him as the author of the sermons on the
punishment of the wicked. Edwards' sermons and Dante's
Inferno. Conclusion.

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY1
I am deeply indebted to your Committee for the honor they
have done me in inviting me to take part in this celebration. My
hesitation in accepting their invitation was due solely to the
feeling I had that a son of New England could more appropri
ately than a stranger ask your attention to an appreciation of
this great New Englander. This hesitation was overcome,
partly by the cordiality with which the invitation was extended,
and partly by the consideration that Princeton, where Edwards
did his last work and where his body lies to-day, might well
be represented on the occasion by which we have been assem
bled. Moreover, Princeton College, when Edwards was called
to its presidency, was largely a New England institution of
learning. Both of his predecessors in that office, Jonathan
Dickinson and Aaron Burr, were natives of New England,
graduates of the College at New Haven and Congregational
ministers. Associated with Dickinson and Burr in the plant
ing of the College were not only other Yale men, but Harvard
men also : Ebenezer Pemberton and David Cowell and Jacob
* Address delivered in the Meeting House of the Parish Church of
Stockbridge, Mass., October 5, 1903, at the celebration, by the Berkshire
Conferences of Congregational Churches, of the two hundredth anni
versary of the birth of Jonathan Edwards ; and repeated in Miller Chapel,
Princeton Theological Seminary, October 16, 1903. It is reproduced
here, because it seems peculiarly appropriate that, in a volume celebrating
the Century of Princeton Theological Seminary, Jonathan Edwards should
be commemorated. He was the earliest of the great theologians who have
lived in Princeton. When he accepted the call to Princeton College he
expressed his willingness " to do the whole work of a professor of divin
ity ". He lived in Princeton only eight weeks. He came in January and
died in March 1758. During the interval his only teaching was " in
divinity," and from the chair which may be said to have been transferred
from the College to the Theological Seminary when the Seminary was
opened in 1812.

112 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
Green and, above all, Jonathan Belcher, sometime Royal Gov
ernor of the Colony of Massachusetts and ex-officio Overseer
of Harvard, his alma mater; who, when afterward he was com
missioned Royal Governor of the Province of New Jersey, to
repeat his own words, " adopted as his own this infant Col
lege," gave to it a new and more liberal charter, and so largely
aided it by private gifts and official influence that its Trustees
called him its " founder, patron and benefactor ". I am glad
as a Princeton man to find in the anniversary of the birth of
one of its Presidents an opportunity to acknowledge the Uni
versity's great debt to New England. And, if you will permit
a personal remark, I cannot forget that in coming to these
services I am returning to the Commonwealth of which I am
proud to have been a citizen, and to the Massachusetts Associa
tion of Congregational Ministers whose list of pastors for
six successive years contained my name.2 I should have to
efface the memory of a pastorate exceptionally happy, and of
unnumbered acts of kindness from the living and the dead, in
order not to feel grateful and at home to-day.
But, after all, the highest justification of this commemora
tion of a man born two centuries ago is not that his genius and
character and career reflect glory on the people and the class
from whom he sprang, but that they contain notable elements
of universal interest and value. The great man is great be
cause in some great way he adequately addresses, not what is
exceptional, not what is distinctive of any class or people, but
what is human and common to the race; to whose message,
therefore, men respond as men; whose eulogists and interpre
ters are not necessarily dwellers in his district or people of his
blood; who is the common property of all to study, to enjoy,
to revere and to celebrate. It is, above all, because Jonathan
Edwards belongs to this small and elect class that we are gath
ered to honor his memory by recalling his story and reflecting
on the elements of his greatness.
It would be inappropriate, certainly in this place and before
this audience, for a stranger to repeat the well-known story
of his life. I shall better meet your expectations if I shall
2 Pastor of the Central Church, Boston, from Dec. 1869 to Jany. 1876.

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 113
reproduce the impressions of the man made on me by a re
newed study of his collected writings and his life.
We shall agree that the inward career of Edwards was sin
gularly self-consistent; that from its beginning to its close it
is exceptionally free from incongruities and contradictions;
that in him Wordsworth's line, " The child is father to the
man," finds a signal illustration. When we are brought into
contact with a life so unified, whose development along its
own lines has not been hindered or distorted by external dis
turbances as violent even as that suffered by Edwards at North
ampton, we naturally look for its principle of unity, the domin
ating quality which subordinated to itself all the others, or, if
you like, which so interpenetrated all his other traits as to be
come his distinctive note. We are confident that such a qual
ity there must have been, and that if we are happy enough at
once to find it, we shall have in our possession the master key
which, so far as may be to human view, will open to us the de
partments of his thought and feeling and activity.
A century later than Edwards there was born another great
New Englander — Ralph Waldo Emerson — between whom and
Edwards there is a strong likeness as well as a sharp contrast.
Because this is his centennial year, Emerson like Edwards is
just now especially present to our minds, and one is tempted
to compare and contrast the two. To this temptation I shall
not yield. But in order that we may properly approach and
seize for ourselves a fine formula of Edward's dominant qual
ity, permit me to recall to you a study of Emerson by a littera
teur of great charm and wide acceptance. Mr. Matthew Arn
old in his well-known lecture, says that Emerson is " not a
great poet ", he " is not a great man of letters ", he " is not
a great philosopher ". Mr. Arnold, I think, does great injus
tice to Emerson in two of these negations. If I did not think
so I should not associate him with so great a man as Edwards.
I am not, indeed, concerned to defend the claims of Emerson
to "a place among the great philosophers ". His treatment of
particular subjects was marked by discontinuity; and his ten
dency to gnomic, sententious forms of speech betrayed him not
seldom into overstatement or exaggeration. Now, than dis-

n4 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
continuity and overstatement there can scarcely be conceived
more deadly foes to system-building, to the construction of a
world-theory ; and the construction of a world-theory is the end
of all philosophizing. It may be questioned whether Emerson
ever permitted himself to rest in any fixed theory of the uni
verse. I have the impression that for a fixed view of the uni
verse he never felt the need, and that from all actual views of
the universe which have been fixed in formulas he revolted.
And, therefore, when Mr. Arnold says, " Emerson cannot be
called with justice a great philosophical writer — he cannot
build, he does not construct a philosophy," I do not know on
what grounds we can dissent from his statement.
But when he goes further and, with the same positiveness,
says, " We have not in Emerson a great writer or a great poet,"
Mr. Arnold passes from the region of opinion based on consid
erations whose force all estimate alike, into the region of opin
ion which has its source and ground in mere individual tem
perament and taste. Moreover, greatness is a word so vague
as scarcely to raise a definite issue ; and this fact might well
have prevented so careful and acute a critic from employing
it to deny to Emerson a quality which Mr. Arnold would have
found difficult to define. Certainly this much can be said. If
Emerson is not "a great writer, a great man of letters," yet,
in his unfolding of ideas and in his portrayal and criticism of
nature and of life, he has nobly fulfilled and is still fulfilling the
function of a great man of letters to thousands of disciplined
minds; interpreting for them and teaching them to interpret
nature and man, educating their judgments, cultivating their
taste, introducing them to " the best that has been thought and
written," and stimulating and ennobling their whole intellectual
life. And if he is not, as Mr. Arnold says he is not, " senuous
and impassioned " in his poetry, we must not forget that reflec
tive poetry is Emerson's best and most characteristic poetic
achievement ; that reflective poetry cannot possibly be " sensu
ous and impassioned"; and that Mr. Arnold is prejudiced
against all reflective poetry, and, indeed, does not think it
poetry, whether it be Emerson's or Wordsworth's.
But though Mr. Arnold does Emerson injustice in these two

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 115
negative propositions; I think that, in his positive statement,
he has firmly seized and happily formulated Emerson's dom
inating quality. He has given us the real clue to the signifi
cance of Emerson's literary product, regarded as a whole, when
he says of him : " Emerson is the friend and aider of those
who would live in the spirit." The friendship of Emerson for
" those who would live in the spirit " is, indeed, his character
istic trait. He is also their "aider ", as Mr. Arnold says.
But the aid he offers them is conditioned precisely by the fact
that he is a man of letters and a poetic interpreter of nature
and of life, and that he does not bring to them a philosophy.
I say, the aid he offers is conditioned by this lack of a philos
ophy; and by conditioned I mean limited. For because of it
the realm of nature and spirit, as he presents it, is vast indeed,
but vague and undefined and, so far forth, unrevealed. And
therefore, as Mr. Arnold himself points out, his aid is confined
to the sphere of the moral sentiments and action. Mr. Arn
old does, indeed, express the opinion that " as Wordsworth's
poetry is the most important work done in verse in our lan
guage in the nineteenth century, so Emerson's essays are the
most important work done in prose." But this is the language
of purely personal judgment. Far more important for us in
estimating Emerson, with Mr. Arnold's help, as " an aider of
those who would live in the spirit," is the sentence in which
he formulates the precise content of the aid which Emerson
extends. And this is the sentence : " Happiness in labor,
righteousness and veracity ; in all the life of the spirit ; happi
ness and eternal hope — that was Emerson's gospel." A fair
and felicitous description it is. And how clearly it reveals
the limit of the aid which Emerson's gospel offers ! How clear
ly it reveals that the aid extended is not the aid of a great
thinker in the sphere of ultimate knowing and absolute being,
but is aid confined to the sphere of the moral sentiments and
action !
Thus, by a route somewhat circuitous indeed, but I trust not
wholly without interest or propriety, we reach, in Mr. Arnold's
characterization of Emerson, the formula of which I spoke as
finely expressing Edward's dominating and unifying quality.

Il6 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
Edwards like Emerson is, above all else and by eminence, " the
friend and aider of those who would live in the spirit." Who
that knows him at all will deny to him a right equal to that of
Emerson to this high title? Of course, they differ widely both
in the aid they offer and in their methods of offering it. Emer
son's aid is conditioned and limited, as I have already said, by
his want of a firm and self-consistent doctrine of the uni
verse, by his want of a philosophy. And we must be just as
ready to acknowledge that Edwards' aid is as clearly condi
tioned and limited by his unfortunate poverty in the humani
ties, by his notable lack of feeling for poetry and letters. On
the other hand and positively I think we may say, that it
would be hard to name a man of letters who, having separated
himself from all formulated philosophical and religious be
liefs, has more nearly than Emerson exhausted the resources
of letters and poetry in the service of " those who would live
in the spirit." And among the great doctors of the Christian
Church, it would be as hard to name one more distinctively
spiritual in character and aim than Edwards, or one who, in
cultivating the spiritual life in himself and promoting it in
others, has more consistently or more ably drawn on the re
sources of his philosophy, his world-view, his Christian doc
trine of the universe.
I am quite sure that this obvious likeness and difference be
tween Edwards and Emerson is the right point of departure
for any large study of their affinity and opposition. Such a
study the day invites us to mention, but does not permit us to
undertake. The day belongs, not to the great Puritan who
gave up the Puritan conception of the universe for its interpre
tation by poetry and letters, but to the great Puritan who denied
himself the high satisfactions of literature, that through his
distinctively Christian doctrine of God and man he might be
" the friend and aider of those who would live in the spirit."
It is to his spirituality, and to his intellectual gifts and work,
that I ask your attention.

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 117

How many writers have portrayed what one of them calls
the " spirituality of mind " of the Northern and Teutonic peo
ples ! One of the most striking passages in Taine's English
Literature contrasts in this particular the Latin and Teutonic
races. And a New England theologian and man of letters, in
unfolding the truth that the Northern nations of Europe, unlike
the Southern, were " spiritual in their modes of thought ",
calls attention to the fact that " the Northern heathen had
fewer gods than the Southern, and could believe in their
reality without the aid of visible form. He hewed no idol,
and he erected no temple; he worshipped his divinity in spirit,
beneath the open sky, in the free air." How far this spiritual
temper can be attributed to climate, to "the influences which
rained down from the cold Northern sky," we cannot say. Racial
character would best be accepted as an ultimate fact. The
fact itself is certain, that among the European peoples, the
race to which Edwards belonged was most strongly marked
by this spiritual quality. Moreover, it was precisely by the
greater strength and intensity of this racial quality that the
Puritan class was separated as a class from their own people.
Spirituality is what the logicians call the specific difference of
Puritanism. The unshaken belief in the reality of the spiritual
universe, the ability to realize its elements without the aid of
material symbols, the strong impulse to find motives to action
in the unseen and eternal, to feed the intellect and the heart
on spiritual objects, and in distinctively spiritual experiences or
exercises to discern the highest joys and the deepest sorrows
and the great crises of life — these were the traits of the Puri
tans. And these traits were exhibited, not by a few cloistered
souls who obeyed the " counsels of perfection " and were se
cluded from their fellows by special vows of poverty, celibacy
and obedience, but by the mass of the population in Puritan
New England; by countrymen and villagers and citizens and
statesmen. This spirituality organized the governments and
determined the politics of vigorous commonwealths. Theo-

118 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A. STUDY
cratic republics, as spiritual as that which, under Savonarola,
had so short a life in Florence, flourished for generations
on American soil. It was in this Puritan society that Jonathan
Edwards' American ancestors lived. They were typical Puri
tans, justly esteemed and influential in the communities in
which they dwelt. The convictions, traditions and spirit of
the class were theirs. This was especially true of both his
father and his mother. The simplicity, the sincerity, the
spirituality of Puritanism at its best were incarnate in them;
and it was the Puritan ideal of life which, before his birth,
they prayed might be actualized in their unborn child.
Belonging to this spiritual race, sprung frorra this spiritual
class, descended from such an ancestry and born of such a
parentage, we have the right to anticipate that his dominant
quality will be this spirituality of which I have spoken. We
have the right to look for what Dr. Egbert Smyth calls, " Ed
wards' transcendent spiritual personality," and concerning
which he says, that " the spiritual element " in Edwards " is
not a mere factor in a great career, a strain in a noble charac
ter. It is his calmest mood as well as his most impassioned
warning or pleading, his profoundest reasoning, his clearest
insight, his widest outlook. It is the solid earth on which he
treads." Dr. Smyth has thus stated in suggestive phrase the
supreme truth concerning Edwards ; the truth that his dominat
ing quality, his differentiating trait, his prevailing habit of
mind, is spirituality. The time at my disposal does not per
mit the illustration of this great quality in any adequate way.
I can only touch on a few particulars which may help us better
to appreciate it.
The careful student of Edwards is deeply impressed, first of
all, by his immediate vision of the spiritual universe as the
reality of realities. When I speak of the spiritual universe,
I am giving a name to no indefinite object of thought. I
mean God in his supernatural attributes of righteousness and
love, the moral beings created in his image, the relations be
tween them and the thoughts and feelings and activities which
emerge out of these relations. This was the universe in which
Edwards lived and moved and had his being. As he appre-

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 119
hended it, it was no mere subjective experience, no mere plexus
of sensations and thoughts and volitions. It was the one
fundamental substance and the one real existence. It was the
one objective certainty which stands over against the shadowy
and illusory phenomena that we group under the title matter.
And his vision of it was vivid and in a sense complete. He
knew it not only in its several parts, but as a whole; as an
ordered universe ; as the macrocosm which he, the microcosm,
reflected and to which he responded.
All this is true in a measure, to be sure, of all the other
saints and, indeed, of the sinners also. It is in what I have
called the immediacy of his spiritual apprehension that his
distinction lies. There is, of course, a sense in which the spirit
ual world is immediately discerned by all of us. It is of spirit
rather than of matter that our knowledge is direct. That
consciousness of a self which cannot be construed in terms of
matter, or that idea of self which is a necessary postulate of all
our thinking brings us at once into the universe of spirit. But
in order to the vivid realization of this spiritual universe, there
is necessary for the most of us a special activity or exper
ience. And by this activity or experience our realization of
the spiritual world is mediated. Edwards, in this respect, is
a remarkable exception in his own class. Consider some great
and notable men of the spiritual type. Consider St. Augustine.
How true it is that the great elements of the spiritual world
became vivid to Augustine through the mediation of his ex
perience of sin ! And that these spiritual elements were always
interpreted by the aid of that experience his Confessions abund
antly testify. Or think of Dante. As Augustine reveals in his
Confessions the instrumental relation to his deepening spirit
uality of the long period of sinful storm and stress. Dante
makes perfectly clear to us in The New Life that it was the
love of Beatrice which so mediated for him the spiritual world
and so brought him under its sway, that in order to repeat and
interpret the vision of it he laid under contribution his total
gifts and learning. Or take John Calvin. That fruitful con
ception — more fruitful in church and state than any other con
ception which has held the English-speaking world — of the ab-

120 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
solute and universal sovereignty of the Holy God as a revolt
from the conception then prevailing of the sovereignty of the
human head of an earthly church, was historically the media
tor of his spiritual career.
Now Edwards is distinguished from Augustine, Dante and
Calvin by the fact that his intuition of the spiritual universe
was, in the sense which I have used the word, immediate. To
a degree I should be unwilling to affirm of any other man I
have studied, except one, his spirituality was natural. That he
was a sinner, needing regeneration and atonement, he knew.
That these were his blessed experience he was gratefully as
sured. But except the apostle called by eminence " the Theo
logian ", St. John the Divine, I know no other great character
in Church History of whom it can so emphatically be said, that
when he " breathed the pure serene " of the spiritual world
and gazed upon its outstanding features, or explored its re
cesses, or studied the inter-relations of its essential elements,
he did so as " native and to the manner born ". To quote
again the words of Dr. Smyth : " It is the solid earth on which
he treads, its sleeping rocks and firm-set hills."
The spiritual universe, thus vividly and immediately appre
hended as the reality of realities, of course, became, in turn, the
interpreter to himself of all he did and felt. It became even
the regnant principle of his association of ideas, so that the
unpurposed movements of his mind in reverie were determined
by it. How influential in his earliest thinking it was, you will
see if you study his Notes on mind and ultimate being ; and how
persistent it was, you will see in his latest observations on The
End of God in Creation. It governed his aesthetics also. The
line between aesthetic emotion and spiritual feeling is sharp,
and wide, and deep. Often as the two are confounded by those
whose sensibilities are strongly stirred by beauty in nature
or in fine art, it is still true that they are as distinct as spirit
and matter. The aesthetic emotion is ultimate and never can
be made over into spiritual affection. No one knew this better
than Edwards. But through both reflection and experience he
reached and formulated the conclusion, that the highest and
most enduring aesthetic emotion is that which is called out not

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 121
by material beauty but by holiness. And he may be said to
have unfolded the great mediaeval phrase, " The beatific vision
of God ", into the doctrine of the highest beauty, in his epoch-
making treatise — epoch-making in America certainly the treat
ise was — on The Nature of Virtue. This seems to me a strik
ing instance of the way in which his spirituality permeated and
irradiated his thinking.
I think that even the traits of Edwards' style are best ex
plained by this same quality. It has often been said of him that
style is precisely what Edwards lacked. We are told that,
after reading Clarissa Harlowe, he expressed regret that in
his earlier years he did not pay more attention to style. We
may be thankful certainly that he did not form his style on that
of the affluent Richardson. I am unable to share the regret
he expressed ; unless, indeed, it was a regret that he did not al
ways take pains to make his literary product eminent in the
qualities of style which always marked it. Edwards was above
all things sincere; and his style is the man. Its qualities are
clearness, severe simplicity, movement and force. In these he
is eminent, almost as eminent as John Locke; and he is more
eminent in his later than in his earlier compositions. They
finely fit his theme and his spirit. His theme in substance is
one. It is the spiritual universe, in some aspect of it. And his
spirit is that of a man dominated by those spiritual affections
which he teaches us are a lively action of the will. It was ap
propriate that his style should be calm and severe, and that even
in his sermons it should lack the dilation and rhythm of a rapt
prophet's emotional utterance. Edwards was no Montanist.
He was a seer, indeed, but a seer with a clear vision ; and the
spirit of the prophet was subject to the prophet. No man of his
day was, so far as I know, the subject of stronger or deeper
spiritual affections. But no one knew better just what spiritual
affections are. He knew especially how different they are from
mere sensibility; and he was always calm under their sway.
No other style than his could have so well reflected and ex
pressed this spiritual, unhysterical man. And I must believe
that his is the direct fruit of his spiritual quality. Certainly,
it was spiritually effective. Never did any one's discourse

122 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
make a more powerful and at the same time a more distinctive
ly and exclusively spiritual impression on audience or readers.
One of the most charming modern poems is that in which
Tennyson portrays the Lady Godiva, that she might take the
tax from off her people, riding at high noon through Coventry
" naked, but clothed on with chastity." So seem to me the
bare and unadorned sermons and discussions of Edwards.
Straight through his subject to his goal this master moves;
unadorned yet not unclothed, but clothed upon with spirituality.
Or consider Edwards' emotional life. Dr. Allen, of Cam
bridge, in his paper on The Place of Edwards in History has
dwelt fondly on what he calls the spiritual affinity between
Dante and Edwards. He makes the remark, that " the deepest
affinity of Edwards was not that with Calvin or with Augus
tine, but with the Florentine poet." Now, I am sure, that of
his affinity with Augustine and with Calvin Edwards was dis
tinctly conscious. But nowhere, so far as I know, is there the
slightest intimation that he had any interest in Dante's New
Life or The Divine Comedy. He was no idealizing poet, no
literary artist, no allegorizer ; and he seems to have taken little
or no pleasure in this kind of literature. Had there been a fun
damental sympathy between Dante and Edwards, it would have
expressed itself in Edwards' works with Edwards' character
istic distinctness. But not only is Dante not mentioned, but,
what is more striking, there is not an allusion, I think, in Ed
wards' works to the poems of the Puritan John Milton or the
allegories of the Puritan John Bunyan. This seems inexpli
cable on Dr. Allen's theory of a strong affinity between the New
England theologian and the Florentine poet. Most unhappy,
however, is the palmary instance of this alleged affinity selected
by Dr. Allen for remark. It is what he calls the striking spir
itual likeness between Dante's words touching his first sight
of Beatrice and Edwards' description of Sarah Pierpont. I
refer to them, not to criticise Dr. Allen, but because the strik
ing contrast between them helps us the better to appreciate the
regnancy of Edwards' spiritual quality, even when he was
under the spell of earthly love.
And the contrast is striking. Dante in noble and beautiful

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 123
words describes the dress that Beatrice wore. " Her dress on
that day was a most noble color, a subdued and goodly crimson,
girded and adorned in such sort as best suited with her tender
age." He exalts her in a way which Edwards would have se
verely reproved, in the words, " Behold the deity which is
stronger than I, who coming to me will rule within me." And
he confesses in powerful and poetic phrases the violent effect
upon his body which his strong emotion produced. The whole
picture is charming, poetic, ideal, and was written in a book
for the public years after the boy had seen a girl. The greatest
poet of his time, if not of all time, in maturer life looks back
upon the meeting and, with consummate art, I do not say with
insincerity, transfigures it.
How different is Edwards' well-known description of Sarah
Pierpont! It was written in Edwards' youth, four years be
fore his marriage ; not in a book for the public, but on a blank
leaf for his own eye. In its own way it is as engaging as
Dante's. But its way is not artistic or imaginative at all. It is
distinctively and exclusively spiritual. There is no idealization,
no translation of the object of his love into a symbol, no physi
cal transport, no agitation, no " shaking of the pulses of the
body." We learn nothing of Sarah Pierpont's dress or appear
ance or temperament. All he tells us about her is about her
spiritual qualities and her relations to the spiritual universe.
And at the last, on his deathbed, he sends to his absent wife,
this Sarah Pierpont, his love ; and again speaks of the uncom
mon union between them as, he trusts, spiritual and therefore
immortal. Read in connection with the brief references to
bis household life to be found in his biography, these passages
bring before us a man whose closest and tenderest earthly love
was transfigured not by artistic genius but by what I have called
his dominating spirituality. And both passages issue naturally
out of that spiritual conception of beauty which he has so finely
unfolded in the great essay on Virtue.
This same quality manifests itself in the impartiality and im
personality of his feelings under conditions well calculated to
awaken strong partial and personal feelings. Go through the
whole history of the unfortunate Northampton controversy.

124 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
Read the correspondence of Edwards, his speeches before the
several Councils and the Farewell Sermon. Or mark his be
havior under the trying conditions of a recrudescence in Stock-
bridge of the enmity shown at Northampton. And you will
see what I mean, when I say that his spirituality is exhibited in
the impartiality of his feelings and the impersonality of their
objects. You will agree with me that in all of it he was true
to his thesis ; that private feelings must be subordinated to that
benevolence, that spiritual love of being in general, which is the
essence of virtue. Indeed, I recall no other instance of a severe
and protracted trial, in which the chief figure appears so un
concerned about everything except its spiritual significance.
But it is in the work to which he gave himself, in the subjects
on which he labored, in his method of treatment, in the con
clusions he reached, that Edwards' spirituality is most impres
sively revealed. He was interested apparently in nothing but
the spiritual universe and the spiritual life. Of course, the
whole of Edwards is not known to us. We rarely, if ever,
catch sight of him in his avocations, so strong was his sense
of vocation. I discover in him no interest in politics, in litera
ture, in the plastic or even the intellectual arts. In distinctively
intellectual pursuits other than religious he did at times engage.
But he engaged in them, certainly in his maturer years, only in
order to the thorough concentration of his powers on spiritual
work. Thus, when his mind was strained by excessive study
and would not hold itself to a severely spiritual train of thought,
or when his imagination rose in rebellion and tempted him, he
whipped each into subjection by setting his powers to the
solution of a difficult mathematical problem; and so he re
gained possession of himself solely for high spiritual purposes.
And how spiritual his purposes were let the titles of his works
testify, from the first published sermon to the great treatises
on Sin, Virtue and the Will, and finally the great Body of
Divinity in historical form, which in his letter to the Trustees
of Princeton he describes as his coming work, and in describing
which his soul expands and his style, almost for the first time,
becomes rhythmical.
We are therefore entitled to say with emphasis that the dom-

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 125
inant quality of Edwards is spirituality — spirituality of mind,
of feeling, of aim and action. The spiritual universe was for
him not only the most certain and substantial of realities, but
the exclusive object of contemplation. Purely spiritual feel
ing seems to have filled in his life the great spaces which in
the lives of most men are occupied by passionate sensibilities
and aesthetic pleasures. Or we may better say, that his excep
tional personality was the alembic in which these sensibilities
and pleasures were transmuted into the pure distillate of spirit
ual feeling; until all his outgoing and active affections rested
on spiritual qualities and objects, and all his reactions of emo
tion were the blessednesses of the spirit. When his will ener
gized and called the great powers of his intellect into action,
it was on the most spiritual themes that his mind was wrought
with the greatest ease and geniality. Distant in manner and
reserved on most subjects, whenever he conversed about hea
venly and divine things of which his heart was so full, " his
tongue ", says Dr. Samuel Hopkins, " was as the pen of a ready
writer." The spiritual world so completely possessed him that
its contemplation and exposition seems never to have tired
him. After receiving the invitation to Princeton, he told his
eldest son that for many years he had spent fourteen hours a
day in his study. Spiritual thinking and feeling were thus
both his labor and his recreation.
This exclusive spirituality of Edwards explains his lack of
charm and interest. For obviously he is lacking here. Com
pare with the lack of interest in Edwards the interest the
world has always taken in Luther, in the stormy career of
Knox, in the incessant and varied activity of Calvin, and
earlier than these in the dramatic life of Augustine. Shall we
say that he charms us less because he was a more spiritual man,
or only because he was more exclusively spiritual; because he
was less wealthily endowed with humane sympathies ? Is it be
cause of his delicate organization and feeble vitality ? Or is it
because, under the domination of the spiritual universe, and
knowing well his own powers and limitations, he determined
to know this one thing only? Or is it, after all, only the defect
of his biographers? I do not know. Certainly he presents a

126 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
striking contrast to the other great spiritual men whom I have
named. And I think we are bound to acknowledge that his
remarkable separation in spirit from the feelings and tastes
and occupations of the people seriously limited his usefulness,
and seriously limits it to-day. But when all is said, his spirit
uality is his strength. And in a world where social charm and
sympathy is abundant, and where high and exclusive spiritual
ity is in the greatest men as rare as radium; we ought to re
joice that of one of the greatest it is true that he was bond
slave to the spiritual world.
The clue to Edwards then, his dominating and irradiating
quality, the trait which gave unity to his career, is his spirit
uality. His was indeed, to repeat the fine word of Dr. Eg
bert Smyth, " a transcendent spiritual personality."
II.
I have detained you so long on this subject that I must treat
briefly and inadequately Edwards' intellect and work.
It was as a bond-slave then to the spiritual universe that all
his work was done. Now his work was not that of a philan
thropist or a missionary. It was the work of a thinker. The
instrument with which he wrought was his intellect; and the
word which describes the quality as distinguished from the
subject of his writings is the word, intellect. This is as true
of his sermons as it is of his elaborate treatises. And, as a
whole, his works constitute an intellectual system of the spir
itual universe.
Eminently intellectual in his activity, Edwards, so far as I
can see, had no intellectual pride. His intellect he regarded
simply as an instrument to be employed in the service of the
spiritual world. And as such an instrument, if we would do
him justice, we must regard it. We must seize and estimate
its outstanding traits, as they reveal themselves in this charac
teristic activity which he solemnly accepted as his vocation.
What, then, were the distinctive traits of Edwards' intellect,
and what position must we assign to him among intellectual
men, especially among theologians?
The genius of Luther and that of Calvin have often been

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 127
contrasted. There is a general agreement that while Luther
saw single truths with the greater clearness and the sooner
recognized their capital value, to Calvin must be attributed in
greater measure the gift of construction; the great gift by
which he organized in a system the principles of the Protestant
Reformation. Now though Edwards nowhere shows the bold
ness and originality of either of these men; though he never
inaugurated a new mode of Christianity like Luther or or
ganized its theology like Calvin, and, therefore, holds no
place beside them in history; he had both a gift of penetra
tion like Luther's and a gift of construction like Calvin's. It
is also true, I think, that in the subtlety of his intellect he was
greater than either. The man of all men whom he seems to me
most like intellectually and, indeed, every way — in the character
of his religious experience, in his genial acceptance of the theo
logical system he inherited, in his philosophical insight, in his
power in the exposition of abstract truth, in his fruitfulness,
in his constructive ability and in his failure nevertheless to
leave behind him a completed system, in his fundamental
philosophical and theological views, in his idealism and Pla-
tonism — is Anselm of Canterbury. And, having regard to the
works they have left behind them — the one, the Monologium
and Proslogium, the Tract on Predestination, the Prayers and
Meditations, the Essay on Free Will and the Cur Deus Homo,
and the other, the great sermons, the treatises on The Nature
of Virtue, The End of God in Creation, Original Sin, Justifica
tion by Faith, The Religious Affections and The Nature of the
Freedom of the Will — I think that Edwards stands fully abreast
of the mediaeval philosopher and theologian. Had Dante
known Edwards as we know him, he would have given him a
place beside Anselm in the Heaven of the Sun.
In saying that Edwards is like Anselm, I have also in mind
the fact that there are two great classes of theologians. All
Christian theology rests on Holy Scripture. But theologians
strikingly differ among themselves in the importance they
respectively assign to the history of doctrine and the Church's
symbols on the one hand; and to the concord between the
Word of God and the reason on the other. In the mediaeval

128 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
Church there were school divines who rested solely on history
and authority ; who had no confidence in the argument from the
reason ; who did not believe that there is a theologia naturalis-
This tendency was strongest, perhaps, in the Franciscan, Duns
Scotus. In modern Protestant Churches, the tendency is,
perhaps, strongest in the high Anglican writers. Now while
Edwards was in harmony with the Reformed Confessions, the
absence of the Confessional or historical spirit is noticeable
in all his theological treatises. The lack of it is explained
partly by his training. In the curriculum of the American
Colonial College historical studies were slight and elementary,
while studies which discipline the powers were pursued with
a vigor and sincerity which the modern University would do
well to promote. We must regret, I think, the lack in this great
American theologian of large historical culture and, by con
sequence, of the historical spirit. Because of it there is, in the
positiveness of his assertions, in his strong confidence in logical
analysis and dialectic in themselves, and in his historical gen
eralizations in The History of Redemption, a quality which
it is right to call provincial.
But if he is defective at this point, it is not too much to say,
that he is one of the greatest Doctors of the Universal Church
by reason of his singular eminence in three capital qualities.
In the first place, he is far more powerful than most theologians
in his appeal to the reason in man. I mean the reason in its
largest sense and as distinguished from the understanding.
The reason itself, he held, as if he were a Cambridge Platonist,
has a large spiritual content. If I understand him, he went
beyond the Westminster Divines in the value he put upon the
Light of Nature. Of his actual appeal to the reason, includ
ing under that term the conscience and the religious nature,
I have time only to say that it permeates and gives distinction
to his entire theological product. He addresses it with large
confidence in his sermons, in his essay on The End of God in
Creation, in* his chapter on the Satisfaction of Christ written
in the very spirit of the Cur Deus Homo, in all his endeavors
to quicken in reader and hearer the sense of guilt and the fear
of its punishment, in his great discourse on Spiritual Light, and

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 129
in his great volume on the Religious Affections. In all of them
a consummate theologian of the reason distinctly appears. To
this we must add his supremacy in the related gifts of clear
exposition, subtle distinction, and acute polemic. To this
supremacy the world has borne abundant testimony. If he is
like Anselm in his high estimate of the reason, he is like
Thomas Aquinas in his dialectical acuteness. Nor is this acute
ness mere quickness of vision and alertness in logical fence.
His two greatest polemic works are probably the essays on
Original Sin and The Freedom of the Will. Both of them
are profound as well as acute; both are large in their conception
of the subject; and in both he is fair to his antagonist, and,
though not so largely, yet as really constructive as he is polemic.
To these we must add, finally, a consummate genius for theo
logical construction. No one can go through his collected
works even rapidly, as I was compelled to do this summer,
without seeing that a self -consistent World-view or theory of
the Universe was distinct and complete in the consciousness
of Edwards, and that it is the living root out of which springs
every one of his sermons and discussions. No theological
writer is less atomistic. None is less the prey of his temporary
impulses or aberrations. No theological essays less merit the
name of disjecta membra. The joy of the completed literary
presentation of this universal system, this spiritual and intel
lectual Cosmos, was denied him. But it is in his works, just
as completely as Coleridge's system is in the Biographia Liter-
aria and the Table Talk, just as clearly as Pascal's Pyrrhonism
lies open to us in his fragmentary Thoughts. Had he lived to
complete at Princeton his History of Redemption, his " body
of divinity in an entire new method," it is my belief that the
world would have seen in it the fruit of a constructive genius
not less great than that which appears in the Summa of St.
Thomas or in the Institutes of Calvin.
Though no theologian more habitually conceived the spiritual
world as objective, yet his great powers and special talents
wrought best, and he produced his best work, when he was
writing on the religious life. That life he knew well, because
of his own profound and vivid religious experience. But he

130 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
never wrote out his experience alone. The spiritual universe
as a whole is before him as he writes. It is always therefore
the ideal religious life of the redeemed sinner he is describing.
Hence its severity, its purity, its deep humility as it measures
itself with the absolute ethical and spiritual perfection. If
we do not wish to sink into despair, we must not forget
this as we read the greatest of his tracts, the essay on The
Religious Affections.
A theologian, so profound and so individual as Edwards
was, could not but have made many contributions of the highest
importance to theological science. Now whatever Edwards'
distinctive contributions to theology were, it is important to
notice that they were contributions to the historical theology
of the Christian Church. He was in full concord with the
great Ecumenical Councils on the Trinity and the Person of
Christ. He thoroughly accepted the formal and material prin
ciples of the Reformation. And he was convinced of the truth
of the great system known as Calvinism or the Reformed The
ology. His greatness as a theologian and his fruitfulness as
a writer are rooted in the consent of his heart, as well as the
assent of his mind, to these historical doctrines. And though,
as I have said, individually he was not distinctly informed by
the historical spirit, yet he is in the line of the historical suc
cession of Christian theologians.
Turning to these distinctive contributions I have time to
name only one ; but that one has been of immense historical im
portance in America. Jonathan Edwards changed what I may
call the centre of thought in American theological thinking.
There were great theologians in New England before Edwards.
I mention only John Norton of Ipswich, and Samuel Willard of
Harvard. They followed the Reformed School Divines not
only in making the decree of God the constitutive doctrine of
the system, but in emphasizing it. Edwards did not displace
the eternal Decree as the constitutive doctrine; but by a
change in emphasis he lifted into the place of first importance
in theological thinking in America the inward state of man in
nature and in grace. He appears to have been led strongly
to emphasize these related themes, partly by the Great Awak-

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 131
ening, and partly by the controversy on the Half-way Covenant
which followed it. No one, however, but a man of genius could
have made this change in emphasis so potent a fact in Ameri
can Church history. It is impossible to exaggerate the influ
ence thus exerted by Edwards on American theological and
religious discussions and on American religious life. If I
may so say, here is the open secret of the New England the
ology from Samuel Hopkins to Horace Bushnell. And more
than to any other man, to Edwards is due the importance
which, in American Christianity, is attributed to the conscious
experience of the penitent sinner, as he passes into the mem
bership of the Invisible Church.
Quite as important as this distinctive contribution is the tre
mendous stimulus and impetus he gave to theological specula
tion and construction. When I think of the Edwardean School
of New England theologians from Samuel Hopkins to Ed
wards Park, between whom are included so many brilliant men,
too many even to be named at this time ; when I think of the
Edwardean theologians in my own Church, like Henry Boyn-
ton Smith and William Greenough Thayer Shedd; when I
think of the fruitful history of his works in Scotland and
England, and recall his real mastery over the minds he influ
enced ; it seems to me that it is not too much to say that, up to
this time, his influence in the English-speaking world — not
on all thinking, but on distinctively dogmatic thinking — has
been as great as that of either Joseph Butler or Samuel Taylor
Coleridge. I have thus endeavored to set before you my impressions of
Edwards' dominating quality, his intellectual gifts, and the
kind of work he did ; and to state the place which in my view
he holds among the theologians of the Universal Church. I
have refrained from eulogy. He is too consummate and
sincere a master for us to approach with the language of com
pliment. But I should incompletely perform the duty you have
devolved upon me, did I fail to speak of two of his works
which have been violently and repeatedly attacked. One is
the essay on The Freedom of the Will. The other is the Ser
mons on the Punishment of the Wicked.

132 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
The essay on the Freedom of the Will is essentially a
polemic, and only incidentally a constructive treatise. As a
polemic, therefore, it must be judged. He had before his
mind, not the whole voluntary nature of man as a subject to
be investigated, but the special Arminian doctrine of the liberty
of indifference as an error to be antagonized. What, there
fore, the essay shows is, not his constructive ability, but his
ability as an antagonist. I have read carefully only one other
treatise in which the propositions as obviously move forward
in procession, with steps as firmly locked together. This other
treatise is the Ethics of Spinoza. If you dare consentingly to
follow Spinoza through his three kinds of knowledge up to his
definition of substance — which, since it is thought not in a
higher category but in itself, is self -existent; which is and can
be one only ; and whose known attributes " perceived to be of
the essence of this substance " are infinite thought and infinite
extension — if you follow Spinoza thus far; you will soon find
yourself imprisoned in a universe of necessity, and bound in
it by a chain of theorems, corollaries and lemmas impossible to
be broken at any point. Your only safety is in obeying the
precept, Obsta principiis. Quite equal to Spinoza's is Edwards'
essay in its close procession of ordered argument. Like Spin
oza he begins his treatise with definitions. And I cannot see
how anyone, who permits himself to be led without protest
through the first of the " Parts " of the essay, can refuse to go
on with him at any point in the remaining three. In reading
the treatise one should, above all, keep in view the fact that,
though it is polemic against a particular theory, it was writ
ten in the interest of a positive theological doctrine. I think
we shall do justice to this doctrine if we state it in terms like
the following : " Man's permanent inclination is sinful ; and
his sinful inclination will certainly qualify his moral choices."
This Augustinian doctrine Edwards defended by a closely
reasoned psychology of the will. I am not sure that this great
doctrine, which I heartily accept, was at all aided by Edwards
when he involved it with and defended it by a particular psy
chology. And my doubt is deepened by what seems to me his
unnecessary employment, in the spiritual sphere, of terms

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 133
taken from the sphere of nature, like " cause ", " determina
tion " and " necessity ". I can only call your attention to the
fact that the defense of the religious doctrine, and not his psy
chology, was Edwards' deepest anxiety. And who of us is
not prepared to say, that the bad man's badness is a perman
ent disposition certain to emerge in his ethical volitions, and
that to revolutionize it there is needed the forth-putting of the
power of the Holy Ghost?
But it is Edwards' sermons on The Punishment of the
Wicked which have awakened the strongest enmity ; an enmity
expressed often in the most violent terms. The rational and
Scriptural basis of the doctrine and the objections to it need
not be set forth here. Edwards accepted, defended and pro
claimed it, substantially in the form in which it has been taught
in the Greek, the Latin and the Protestant Churches. It is the
doctrine of the Fathers, the mediaeval Schoolmen and the Pro
testant theologians. Edwards' doctrine of Hell is exactly one
with the doctrine of Dante. Now it is of interest to note that
there is a widespread revulsion from Edwards, considered as
the author of these Sermons, which does not and so far as I
am aware never did appear in the case of Dante, considered as
the author of the Inferno. What is the explanation of the dif
ference ? Dante is praised and glorified by not a few of those
to whom the name of Edwards is for the same reason a name
of " execration and horror ". Indeed, Dante has been defended
by a great American man of letters for rejoicing in the pain
of the damned; while no one of Edwards' sermons, unless it
is Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, has been more se
verely criticised as inhuman than the discourse entitled, The
Torments of the Wicked in Hell no occasion of Grief to the
Saints in Heaven. We shall do well, therefore, to note the
contrast between Dante's and Edwards' presentation of the
same subject.
When Dante was sailing through the Lake of Mud in the
Fifth Circle of Hell, there appeared before him suddenly
Philippo Argenti, who in this world was full of arrogance and
disdain of his fellowmen, now clothed only with the lake's
muck. Pathetically he answers Dante's inquiry, "Who art

134 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
thou that art become so foul ? " with these words, " Thou seest
I am one who weeps." And Dante replies, " With weeping and
with wailing, accursed spirit, do thou remain, for I know thee
although thou art all filthy." Then Virgil clasps Dante's neck
and kisses his face and says, " Blessed is she who bore thee ! "
And Dante replies, " Master, I should much like to see him
ducked in this broth before we depart from the lake." And
Virgil promises that he shall be satisfied. "And after this ",
continues Dante, " I saw such rending of him by the muddy
folk that I still praise God therefor and thank Him for it.
All cried, 'At Philippo Argenti ! ' and the raging Florentine
spirit turned upon himself with his teeth. Here we left him;
so that I tell no more of him." This is one of the passages in
Dante's poem of that Hell over whose entrance he read these
words ; " Through me is the way into eternal woe ; through
me is the way among the lost people. Justice moved my high
creator; the divine Power, the supreme Wisdom, and the
primal Love made me. Before me were no things created
unless eternal, and I eternal last. Leave every hope, ye who
enter here."
There is nothing in Edwards which, so far as I can judge,
equals this in its horrid imagery and suggestion. And yet men
enjoy Dante and the Inferno. They do not " execrate " him
for a " monster ", as Dr. Allen says they do Edwards. And in
his great essay on Dante, Mr. James Russell Lowell makes this
very scene the text of an eloquent laudation of Dante's moral
quality, in which he says of him ; " He believed in the righteous
use of anger, and that baseness was its legitimate quarry."
Why is it that the attitude of the general public, thus repre
sented by Mr. Lowell, toward the Hell of Dante is so differ
ent from the attitude of the same public toward the Hell of Ed
wards? I think we shall find an answer to this question in
what I may call Edwards' spiritual realism. Of course Dante
is a realist also. How often this quality of his poem has been
pointed out to us! But Dante's is the realism of the artist,
the poet who appeals to our imagination. Our imagination
being gratified, we enjoy the picture and even the sensations of
horror which the picture starts. Of all this there is nothing

JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY 135
in Edwards. There is no picture at all. There is scarcely a
symbol. Here and there there is an illustration. But the
illustrations of Edwards are never employed to make his sub
ject vivid to the imagination. They are intended simply to
explicate it to the understanding. The free, responsible, guilty
and immortal spirit is immediately addressed; and the purely
spiritual elements of the Hell of the wicked, separated from
all else, are made to appear in their terrible nakedness before
the reason and the conscience. The reason and the conscience
respond. We are angry because startled out of our security.
And we call him cruel, because of the conviction forced on
us that we are in the presence of a terrible, even if mysterious,
spiritual reality. Edwards always spoke, not to the imagina
tion, but to the responsible spirit. Men realized when he ad
dressed them that because they are sinners their moral consti
tution judicially inflicts upon their personality remorse; and
that remorse is an absolute, immitigable and purely spiritual
pain, independent of the conditions of time and space and,
therefore, eternal.
The Nineteenth Century, in one of its greatest poets,3 look
ing out on nature, sees no relief from this eternity of remorse ;
that is to say, it sees no evidence, in nature's " tooth and claw "
that God will ever interfere to end this spiritual pain and pun
ishment. It only "hopes " that, "at last, far off ", " Winter
will turn to Spring." I shall not attack any man for a hope,
maintained against the evidence of remorse within and nature
without, that the mystery of pain and moral evil will be thus
dissipated in their destruction. It is not my business to de
nounce a thoughtful and reverent spirit like Tennyson, because
of any relief he may individually find, when facing the most
terrible revelation of nature and of his moral constitution, in
the " hope " which issues from our sensibility to pain and from
the sentiment of mercy which God has implanted in us all. But
I do say, that a man's private " hope " should never be ele
vated to the dignity of a dogma, or be made a norm of teaching,
or be proposed as a rule of action. And I do protest that it is
the height of literary injustice, while praising Dante, to con-
* In Memoriam, liii-lvi.

136 JONATHAN EDWARDS: A STUDY
demn Edwards the preacher because, in his anxiety to induce
men to " press into the kingdom," he preached, not the pri
vate hope of Lord Tennyson, but the spiritual verity to which
the conscience of the sinner responds. Thus, in his treatment
of this darkest of subjects, that spirituality which I have said
was his dominant quality is regnant; and here, too, he should
be called, " the friend and aider of those who would live
in the spirit."
With this protest I conclude. Let me say again, that I
am deeply grateful to you for the opportunity you have given
me to unite with you in this commemoration of the man we so
often call our greatest American Divine. He was indeed
inexpressibly great in his intellectual endowment, in his theo
logical achievement, in his continuing influence. He was
greatest in his attribute of regnant, permeating, irradiating
spirituality. It is at once a present beatitude and an omen of
future good that, in these days of pride in wealth and all that
wealth means, of pride in the fashion of this world which pass-
eth away, we still in our heart of hearts reserve the highest
honor for the great American who lived and moved and had
his being in the Universe which is unseen and eternal.

THE SUPERNATURAL
William Brenton Greene, Jr.

I.— Definition. I. Though spiritual, the Supernatural: a. Is not identi
cal with all the spiritual, nor is it plural ; b. Its distinction is that it
is the Uncaused, the Self-Subsistent, the Autonomous.
2. The points specially to be guarded in this definition are:
a. The separateness of the Supernatural from the natural; b. Its
singleness as so separated.
II. — Importance of this doctrine, i. In Christian Apologetics. 2. In
Christian Dogmatics. 3. In Philosophy. 4. In Science. 5- In
Ethics. 6. In Religion, Civilization and Human Achievement. 7.
In the Christian Religion, according to its own claim. 8. With
regard to the hope of the world.
III.— The Reality of the Supernatural. 1. The Question. 2. The Oppos
ing Theories : a. Positivism; b. Monism; c. Pluralism. 3. The
Argument: a. From the Consent of Philosophy; b. From the
Necessity of Religion ; c. From the Necessity in Thought.
IV. — The Manifestation of the Supernatural. 1. The Question, 2. The
Opposing Theories: a. Pantheism; b. Religious Positivism; c.
Agnosticism. 3. The Argument : a. From the standpoint of the
reality of the Supernatural ; b. From that of the reality of the
natural.
V. — The Personality of the Supernatural. 1. Summary of opposing
views. 2. Statement of true position. 3. Argument : a. The Super
natural can be personal ; b. The Supernatural must be at least
personal; c. The Supernatural cannot be higher than personal.
VI. — The Personal, in the sense of Immediate, Manifestation of the
Supernatural. 1. What is meant by such manifestation. 2. The
importance of the reality of such manifestation, not only to
Christianity, but to all higher religion. 3. The denial of the pos
sibility of miracles is based on the assumption that nature is and
must be uniform. 4. Proof of the possibility and even of the
probability of miracles, i. e., of supernatural interventions in the
course of nature.
VII.- — Conclusion. 1. Christianity is not established as the supernatural
religion : this must still be decided by the appropriate evidence.
But 2. the way, and the only way, for its establishment is laid
open. 3. The reality of the Supernatural, of his manifestation
through nature, of his personality, and of his personal intervention
in nature — these are established or reason itself is denied.

THE SUPERNATURAL I.
Definition.
By the Supernatural we do not mean the spiritual. Yet
this has been and is a common conception of it. The distinc
tion between the Supernatural and the Natural is held to be
the distinction between moral freedom and physical necessity,
between spirit and matter. Such thinkers embrace within the
Supernatural not only God, but angels and men. That is,
all that is truly spiritual and so, because self-initiating, able
to modify and even to break through the necessary succession
of physical causes and effects they call supernatural. Thus
Bushnell1 defines the Supernatural as " Whatever it be that is,
either not in the chain of material cause and effect, or which
acts on the chain of causes and effects, in nature, from without
the chain." So Hickok when discussing the " Valid Being of
the Soul," says2, " The facts of a comprehending' — not
merely conjoining, nor connecting — power over nature,
and of an ethical experience, prove the soul to be supernatural."
Thus, and in this representing many living and influential au
thors, William Adams Brown writes3, " The insight that law
is universal is matched by the higher insight that it is only in
consciousness that we find law. Thus, the supernatural re
ceives its true meaning of the personal, and the false anti
thesis between nature and the supernatural is removed. The
supernatural is the natural seen in its spiritual significance."
So, too, he says4, " This sharp division between nature and the
supernatural science no longer recognizes. It knows but one
'Nature and the Supernatural, p. 3y.
2 Rational Psychology, pp. 54°. 541-
2 Christian Theology in Outline, p. 229.
4 Methodist Review Quarterly, Jan., 191 1, p. 40.

140

THE SUPERNATURAL

world, both natural and supernatural, or, as we express it in
the more familiar terms, both material and spiritual."
This way of thinking is, however, misleading, inad
equate and untrue. It is misleading in that it assumes what
is yet to be proved. As Henry B. Smith wrote,5 " The im
plication or tacit assertion that the Supernatural and the spirit
ual are identical' — that all which is truly spiritual is also super
natural, is the unproved and disputable position." It is a ques
tion, and a vital one, whether God and man are essentially the
same. It is the question which divides the Old Theology from
what is called the " New Theology." This definition, there
fore, hides the issue. To accept it as a guide in controversy
would blind us to the chief contention. Again, this mode of
thinking is inadequate in that it does not reach to the heart of
the question. This is not whether there is a kind of being
above physical nature and so superior to the chain of necessary
causes. There are many who deny even this; but there are
many, too, who, while they admit both the reality and the trans
cendence of spirit as spirit, take, as we have seen, the ground
that the human spirit and the Divine Spirit are essentially one.
That is, the question is not whether man is above nature ; it is
whether there is anything above man. If there is not, then no
argument is advanced by defining the Supernatural as the spir
itual ; if there is, then the definition contains no reply. Hence,
it is inadequate. To get any where, we must ask, not is there
being which is supernatural in the sense of spiritual, but is
there being which is supernatural in the sense of absolute, that
is, independent and self-existent because uncaused. Once more,
the definition under consideration is untrue. It assumes, even
when it does not assert, that human freedom and divine free
dom are one and the same inasmuch as both are superior to
physical or necessary causation. This is the reason why both
should be classed as supernatural. The truth, however, is that,
though both are alike with respect to this superiority, yet in
another and more important respect they are radically unlike.
The law of cause and effect, while it differs, does not break
down when applied to the human will. As H. B. Smith
5 Apologetics, p. 21.

THE SUPERNATURAL 141
says,6 " If it did, then there would be pure contingence
and the element of no law pervading the system." Physical
and human nature, therefore, are alike in the most comprehen
sive and significant respect. They are both of them, though
differently, yet really, caused and determined. They both of
them presuppose a creator and reveal a preserver and gov
ernor. They are not, like that creator, preserver and governor,
uncaused, self-subsistent and autonomous. This is the dis
tinction in comparison with which all other distinctions are as
nothing, and it is to this distinction that the definition of the
Supernatural as the spiritual is untrue.
Again, by the Supernatural we do not mean being that,
though uncaused, self-subsistent and autonomous, is plural,
that is, made up of many such distinct and independent beings.
Such a conception is on its face a contradiction. To go no
further, what is autonomous must be single. Absolute sover
eignty and a plurality of even federated gods are inconsistent.
By the Supernatural, then, we do mean, being that is above
the sequence of all nature whether physical or spiritual; sub
stance that is not caused, and that is not determined whether
physically and necessarily as in the case of physical nature or
rationally and freely as in the case of spiritual nature; in a
word, unique reality the essence of whose uniqueness is that the
reality is uncaused, self-subsistent and autonomous. We call
this Supernatural the Infinite to denote the absence of limita
tion. We call it also the Absolute to express perfect indepen
dence both in being and action. We call it, too, the Uncondi
tioned to emphasize freedom from every necessary relation. In
short, we apply all three terms to it to affirm the absence of ev
ery restriction. Such is the Supernatural that we are about to
consider. Does it exist? Does it manifest itself ? What is its
nature? If a person, can he reveal himself immediately as
such? These are the inquiries which we shall raise. And the
radical distinctness of the Supernatural from the natural, whe
ther physical or spiritual; and the singleness of the Super
natural, — these are the two positions which our definition as
it has been unfolded will call on us to guard most carefully.
" Apologetics, p. 22.

142 THE SUPERNATURAL

II.
Importance of the Inquiry.
Though as abstract and difficult as any, it is more important,
because more fundamental, than all. This may be seen in
the various departments of thought and life.
It is self -evidently so in Christian Apologetics. The
subject-matter of this science is the proof, not of the su
periority nor even of the uniqueness, but of the supernatural-
ness of the Christian religion. The aim of apologetics is to
show that Christianity is supernatural and, therefore, superior
to and unique among the religions of the world. Thus Christ is
to be presented as the Saviour of men, not because he grew up
out of the natural, but because he came down from the Super
natural. It is this that makes him, and it is only this that
could make him, our almighty Redeemer. That is, apologetics
presupposes the Supernatural. It would be as absurd were the
the latter not real as would be the attempt on the part of one
in Europe to prove that he was a citizen of the United States
if there were no United States. Apologetics, therefore, cannot
ignore our inquiry. Strictly speaking, it must begin with it.
The first and the most necessary work of Fundamental Apol
ogetics is to vindicate the Supernatural as a distinct and a
single being.
Similar is its place in Christian dogmatics. Deny the Super
natural and the very substance of this science is evaporated.
What it discusses is the Supernatural and the relation between
it and the natural. Its chief topics are God, creation and
providence, redemption, revelation and salvation: and God
is the supernatural fact; creation and providence are su
pernatural acts; redemption involves a supernatural covenant,
a supernatural gift and a supernatural sacrifice and victory;
revelation is a supernatural communication of supernatural
information ; and salvation is the work of the Supernatural
and issues in a supernatural transformation. Without the
reality of the Supernatural, therefore, dogmatics would be
as meaningless as astronomy would be if the stars were but

THE SUPERNATURAL 143
spectres. Its subject-matter is the uncaused, the self-subsis
tent, the autonomous.
The case is much the same in philosophy. It must postulate,
if it does not prove, the Supernatural. It fails to explain the
reality in nature, if it denies or ignores the unique reality
that is above nature. Thus positivism, in that it declines to go
behind or beyond phenomena, ceases to be a false philosophy.
It has no conception, not even a wrong one, of the aim of
philosophy. Any explanation to be adequate must be ultimate,
and no explanation can be ultimate till it rests on the un-
, caused, the self-subsistent and the autonomous.
It is so with science. This would observe, compare and
classify phenomena. It would confine itself to giving an ac
count of the outside of things. To do this, however, presup
poses inquiry as to their inside. What a thing appears to be
can be seen truly only in the light of what it is. To interpret
the actions of a man, you must remember that he is not a
stone nor even a dog. You will not see all that is to be seen
in what he does, unless you regard it as the expression of a
free self-conscious spirit. Precisely so, if science ignores what
is above and behind nature, it fails to discern rightly and cer
tainly to estimate justly what is in nature. The caused, the
dependent, the determined must be read as a manifestation of
the uncaused, the self-subsistent, the autonomous, the universe
in its relation to its unique Creator, if it is to be understood
or even if it is to be read as it really appears. Science's own
development is establishing this most significant fact. " We
can not overlook ", says Lindsay,7 " how truly Spencerianism
has been tending to prove that no progress of science shall be
able to dispense with supersensible Reality, or to displace meta
physical intuition or belief ;" and the fourteen years that have
passed since the utterance of this judgment have only confirmed
it. Even more evidently is the Supernatural indispensable to
morality. This presupposes a law above nature as well as
objective to self. Its characteristic and unique sense of obli
gation can not be explained otherwise. This is not satisfied,
''Recent Advances in Theistic Philosophy of Religion, p. 74.

144

THE SUPERNATURAL

if regarded merely as expressing the demand of the constitu
tion of things. The force even of the latter points to an au
thority above itself. Nature, spiritual no less than physical,
is bound by the law of nature because this law has both its
origin and sanction in that which is above nature. This is
being appreciated as never before. As Lindsay says again,8
" The moral problem is now more clearly seen to have its
ultimate ground or metaphysical basis in the Absolute." Doubt
less, a morality may be developed independently of this re
ligious basis. It must, however, lack permanence as reared
on a superficial foundation. It must also lack completeness;
for9 " the ideal law revealed in conscience is fully realized only
as religion possesses the soul." This law must be the transcript
of the nature and the revelation of the will of the being who
is uncaused, self-subsistent, autonomous, that is, who is infinite
and absolute and so unique in his holiness. In the sphere of
moral law nothing short of this could be ideal. Fairly and
fully interpreted, conscience itself affirms as much as this.
In view of all this, it should go without saying that religion
and civilization and so human achievement depend directly on
the conviction of the Supernatural. It is the heroes of faith
who, as a rule, have been the men of action. In comparison
with them what has been accomplished by the champions of
unbelief? This is yet more evident in the case of the na
tion. Let a people, as the Anglo-Saxons, base their in
stitutions on faith in the living God, and they move to
the front and stay there. Let a race, as the Chinese, sub
stitute agnosticism for religion, and they drop to the rear
and keep there. Thus apologetics, dogmatics, philosophy,
science, morality, religion, individual progress, civilization in
general, presuppose and even demand the Supernatural. Of
all truths the most metaphysical, no other is so intensely prac
tical. Its atmosphere is necessary to life.
Beyond this, it should be observed that by its own claim the
Christian religion must stand or fall with the reality of the
Supernatural. Unless our religion express the intervention in
nature, both physical and spiritual, of what is essentially un-
"Ibid., p. 62. 'Ibid., p. 62.

THE SUPERNATURAL 145
caused, self-subsistent and autonomous and, as and because
such, both radically distinct from the world and itself single,
it is of all frauds the most unblushing and stupendous. It
presents itself to us, not as an evolution of the divine in nature,
but as a direct revelation of and from God, who, though in
nature, was alone before it and is also distinct from it and
alone above it. Thus the new life that is characteristic of its
confessors it declares to be the result of a new birth, a birth
from above, a birth by the spirit of God (Jno. iii. 3), and to
be throughout a manifestation of his unique power (Gal. ii.
20). The doctrine that it teaches it affirms to be "the wis
dom of God " (1 Cor. i. 24) ; and, so far from admitting that
it may be known from nature, which does clearly reveal his
everlasting power and divinity, it insists that it was " kept
secret from the foundation of the world " (Mt. xiii. 35). The
corner stone on which it rests, even the fact of Christ, it
declares to be both " the power of God and the wisdom of
God " ( 1 Cor. i. 24) : and it accounts for his person, by affirm
ing that the eternal " Word was made flesh " (Jno. i. 14) ; for
his death, by teaching that God gave him (Jno. iii. 16) to be
" a ransom for many " (Mt. xx. 28) ; for his resurrection, by
ascribing it directly and solely to " the working of the strength
of the might of God himself " (Eph. i. 19, 20) ; and for the
power manifest in the church and in its members, by referring
it to the Holy Spirit as given by the exalted Christ and from
the throne of God (Eph. iv. 7-13). In short, Christianity in
sists on nothing so strongly as on this, that it is not of this
world and so natural, but is directly of the sole because absolute
God and thus supernatural. This is the message of its
Scriptures. Unless, therefore, its supernaturalness can be vin
dicated, it is discredited, and that, too, out of its own mouth.
Nor may we fail to observe that it is just this supernatural
ness of Christianity which makes it the hope of the world. It
is the " good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people "
because it is the way of salvation from the guilt and from the
power of sin. It could not be this, however, were it not super
natural. The condemned criminal cannot justify himself.
Another, and one not like himself under the curse of the

146 THE SUPERNATURAL
law, must bear his penalty. The diseased man can not
cure himself. Another, and one not dying from his dis
ease, must give to him of his blood and so of his life.
Precisely thus, guilty human nature demands a supernatural
redeemer, and corrupt human nature demands a supernatural
regenerator and sanctifier; and under a moral government
neither may come forward until authorized to do so by the
absolute and so sole ruler. Our salvation in a word sup
poses a new start; and the possibility of this, whether for the
race or for the individual, is conditioned on such supernat
ural intervention. If, as observation and experience no less
than Scripture testify, we, as individuals and as a race, are
"dead through trespasses and sins" (Eph. ii. i), we can be
quickened and raised up to heaven in the likeness of Christ
only as God himself reaches down from heaven and himself
lifts us up. The natural evolution of a corpse, even though
nature be conceived, as we conceive it, as created and sustained
and guided by God, can issue only in increasing corruption.
That is precisely the result in which he intends that nature,
since he has permitted it to become corrupt, should issue.
Ours, therefore, is no ordinary contention. Not only the
truth of Christianity, but the hope of the world is bound up
with the question as to the Supernatural; and the question as
to the Supernatural concerns both his distinctness from the
natural and his singleness as regards himself.
III.
The Reality of the Supernatural.
The question is not whether the Infinite is, as many agnostics
would hold, the all. Neither is it whether the Absolute exists
and acts in entire isolation from the world. Nor yet is it
whether the Unconditioned sustains no relation to anything.
No one of these positions is essential to the conception of the
Supernatural. The Infinite, because it signifies unlimited, need
not mean the all. It may, at least as well, mean, not that it is
not limited in the sense of being distinguished from other
things, but that no limit is possible to it as so distinguished.

THE SUPERNATURAL 147
The Absolute need not mean that which exists and acts in
isolation from the natural. It may as well mean that which is
not dependent on the natural. The Unconditioned need not
mean that which sustains no relations to anything. It may as
well mean that which sustains no necessary relations.
Again, not only is no one of these positions of the agnostic
essential to the conception of the Supernatural; no one of
them is possible logically. The moral infinite can not be less
than perfect. Hence, it can not be the all ; for the all, to be the
all, must be the sum of good and evil. The phenomenal uni
verse demands the Absolute as its ground; but just because it
is its ground, the Absolute, as regards some of its activity, can
not be existing in isolation from it. The order of the world
implies an unconditioned governor; but if he be the governor
of the world, the Unconditioned must have come into relation
to it.
All this is confirmed by consciousness. Its clearest and
strongest testimony, a testimony that must be accepted if we
are to be justified in thinking, is to our individuality. That
is, consciousness insists that the infinite does not embrace us
and so that it is not the all. In a word, not only need not the
Supernatural, if it be, be such as has been indicated; but in the
nature of the case it could not be such, even if consciousness
did not testify that it is not such.
The question, then, is, whether there is a being who, though
he embraces nothing but himself, is in himself boundless ; whe
ther there is a being who, though now he exists in connection
with nature and ordinarily acts through it, is in both his being
and his action independent of it ; whether there is a being who,
though he is related to the universe as its creator and preserver
and governor and redeemer, stands, so far as he himself is con
cerned, in no necessary relation to it — in short, whether there
is a being who is supernatural in the sense that, though he has
chosen to come into the closest relations to nature, he was be
fore it and is above it and is unrestricted by it, being himself
uncaused, self-subsistent, autonomous, and so distinct and
single. The reality of such a being is indicated by the untenableness

148 THE SUPERNATURAL
of the opposing hypotheses. These are three: Positivism,
Monism, Pluralism.
1. Positivism. — This is a negative and epistemological hy
pothesis rather than an affirmative and ontological one. It
tries to explain why we cannot know and so should not believe
in the Supernatural; it does not essay to provide a substitute
for the Supernatural. Nevertheless, in spite of its negative
character, it is prevalent enough, and it is important enough,
both in itself and because of the degree to which monism in
corporates and uses it, to demand separate statement and dis
cussion. By Positivism, then, we understand the doctrine that we can
know phenomena and the laws by which they are connected,
but nothing more. The reason assigned for this is that we have
no knowledge prior to experience and all our knowledge is
by induction from sensations. That is, the world of knowledge
is that world, and only that world, which is revealed to us by
sense-perception and so is the subject-matter of the Natural or
Positive Sciences. Hence, as we cannot see, hear, touch, taste
or smell the Supernatural, it must be incognizable; and if we
thus do not know and can never know that it exists, what right
have we to assert that it does or to believe that it does ? Such
is positivism. It denies, as must have appeared, both the posi
tions which, as we have seen, it is incumbent on us to guard;
namely, the distinctness of the Supernatural from the natural
and the singleness of the Supernatural.
The theory of knowledge, however, on which it rests and
in which it essentially consists is untrue. We have knowledge
prior to experience and all our knowledge is not by induction
from sensations.
The most extreme advocates of positivism virtually admit
this. Thus Comte, at once the boldest and the most consistent
of them, himself the father of positivism, says :10 " If, on the
one side, every positive theory must be necessarily founded on
observation, it is, on the other side, equally plain that to apply
itself to the task of observation our mind has need of some
theory. If in contemplating the phenomena, we do not immed-
10 La Phil. Positive, chap. i.

THE SUPERNATURAL 149
iately attach them to certain principles, not only would it be
impossible for us to combine those isolated observations, so
as to draw any fruit therefrom; but we should be entirely in
capable of retaining them, and in most cases the facts would
remain before our eyes unnoticed. The need at all times of
some theory whereby to associate facts, combined with the evi
dent impossibility of the human mind's forming, at its origin,
theories out of observations, is a fact which it is impossible to
ignore." What is this but an admission that, in order to ex
periential knowledge, there must be a priori knowledge; a
theory in the mind, if there is to be an induction from facts
outside of the mind? Of course, Comte does not mean this.
His explanation is that the mind invents its theory, and then,
when it has made its observations with its aid, rejects it.
Even this, however, allows that the mind must have a theory
in order to observe and that it can itself form a theory prior to
observation. The necessity of these admissions appears in the nature of
induction. It proceeds in every case on the basis of an a
priori truth; namely, that the same causes under the same
circumstances produce the same effects. For example, you
conclude that ice will melt, should the temperature rise to 32 °
F., because all observation has shown such to be the case.
But why should you so believe? From the mere fact that one
phenomenon always has followed another it may not be in
ferred that it always will. If such a conclusion may be drawn,
it is only because there is more in its premises than the observed
sequence. It must be because we know that there is power in
the antecedent, the temperature of 320, to effect the conse
quent, the melting of the ice; and also because we know that,
the power and the conditions of its exercise continuing the
same, the consequent will be the same. These, however, are a
priori truths. They are not in any way the results of observa
tion or of sensation. All that is given thus is the mere sequence
of the phenomena, the rising of the temperature to 32° and the
ice beginning then to melt. This the positivists maintain as
strenuously as any. This is all the explanation that they offer
of the principle of cause and effect. They reduce it to a se-

ISo THE SUPERNATURAL
quence. Yet if they are to generalize with confidence from
these sequences, they must admit the a priori truths that a
cause is such because it has the power to produce its effect and
that the same cause under the same circumstances must pro
duce the same effect. And so it is that Comte speaks of the
mind as obliged to invent a theory before it can observe pro
fitably. Is it not more rational to believe that it finds itself
furnished in advance with the true theory? Indeed, it is
contradictory to speak of inventing something the elements of
which are neither discovered without nor discerned within.
Moreover, in sensation itself there is given more than
mere sensation. As H. B. Smith wrote,11 " There is a
material impact, and also a feeling of resistance, not material,
but conscious — a resisting self, a person, an Ego — involved
(whether or not this is given in the sensation itself is not
material, it is certainly implied). And this conscious knowl
edge cannot be derived from the external phenomena, but is a
distinguishable state of the ego. The ego cannot be derived
from the non-ego." Even J. S. Mill confesses12 that a series
of sensations aware of itself is " the final inexplicability ".
Positivism can describe the successive sensations, but that some
thing whereby we know them as ours cannot come out of
them. How can a mere sequence of feelings of pain generate
the consciousness that it is I who feel the pain ? Must there not
be already the consciousness of self in order to the identifica
tion of the pain as my pain? I must recognize the particular
peg as mine, if I am to hang my hat on my own peg. Admit
that the sensation of pain may be the occasion of self-conscious
ness and even its necessary occasion, still, can it be its cause?
A tree is the occasion of my seeing a tree. If no tree were pre
sented to me, I should not see one. Yet who may say that the
tree by itself produces the vision of a tree; or, if we speak
strictly, that it produces it at all? What the tree does is to
call the faculty of vision into exercise by furnishing it an
appropriate object, and thus to show that the faculty in ques
tion existed prior to the presentation of the tree. It is the
"¦Apologetics, p. 53.
12 Ex. of Sir W. Hamilton's Phil., Vol. i, p. 262.

THE SUPERNATURAL

151

faculty of vision that produces the vision. Necessary though
the tree is as an occasion, it is only an occasion. In like manner
sensation is the occasion of self-consciousness. You may even
argue that it is only in sensation that we become conscious
of self. Yet who may maintain that sensation gives of itself
the consciousness of self? All that it does is to call self-con
sciousness into exercise and so to reveal the self as existing
prior to sensation and thus as independent of it. When Leib
nitz was told that the gist of Locke's philosophy was, " Nihil
est in intellectu quod non prius fuerit in sensu," he replied,
" Etiam, nisi intellectus ipse."13 Indeed, the intellect mani
fests itself in sense ; a priori elements appear even in sensation
itself. Beyond this, if there be no knowledge except as the result of
induction from individual sensations, we are involved by the
very process of so-called knowledge in utter ignorance even
of what we claim to know. The position is, that we know
only what we can observe; that this is the mere sequence
of phenomena, phenomena as antecedents and consequents;
and that we know the consequents only as modes or forms of
the antecedents. In a word, scientific knowledge is simply the
knowledge of these differing modes. Suppose, then, that we
trace back to the utmost point within our reach the last in
spected consequents. These can be known " only as we know
the antecedents," only as "modes of the antecedents." Then
they cannot be known at all ; for by the supposition, we cannot
reach their antecedents, having already gone back as far as
we can. Thus the whole process of knowing breaks down.
As we do not know the ultimate antecedent, all our boasted
knowledge becomes a chain of total ignorance. " It is a
chain which ", as H. B. Smith wrote,14 " is all hanging and
nowhere hangs." What is beyond sense being absolutely un
known, we cannot know even what appears to sense. Hence,
the positivist, to be consistent, ought to be agnostic as to every
thing. If all that he can know be consequents of phenomena,
he cannot know even this. Thus the denial of the Supernatural
is the denial of the natural also. In a word, the refutation of
*>Nouv. Ess. II, 1, 2. "Apologetics, p. 55.

152 THE SUPERNATURAL
positivism is that it is a theory of knowledge which is destruc
tive of all knowledge. Of course, this refutation does not
prove the reality of the Supernatural. It does, however, dis
pose of the objection that because the Supernatural cannot be
known by sensation it cannot be known at all. Such a theory
of knowledge is contradictory and so must be untrue.
2. Monism. — This hypothesis, unlike that just considered, is
affirmative and ontological. It offers a substitute for the
Supernatural as we have described it. It does this by denying
the first of the two positions which, as we have seen, must be
guarded. That is, it ignores the distinction between the Super
natural and the natural : while either is to be conceived as
single, this is so because they are both one and the same. This
hypothesis itself assumes two forms according as the one abso
lute reality is regarded as essentially matter or spirit. In the
one case we have Materialistic Monism ; in the other, Idealistic
Monism. a. Materialistic Monism. — Of this Professor Ernst Haeckel
is probably the representative exponent. " By Monism ", he
says, " we unambiguously express our conviction that there
lives ' one spirit in all things ', and that the whole cognizable
world is constituted, and has been developed, in accordance
with one common fundamental law. We emphasize by it, in
particular, the essential unity of inorganic and organic na
ture, the latter having been evolved from the former only at a
relatively late period. We cannot draw a sharp line of dis
tinction between these two great divisions of nature, any more
than we can recognize an absolute distinction between the ani
mal and the vegetable kingdom, or between the lower animals
and man. Similarly, we regard the whole of human knowledge
as a structural unity; in this sphere we refuse to accept the
distinction usually drawn between the natural and the spiritual.
The latter is only a part of the former (or vice versa) ; both
are one. Our monistic view of the world belongs, therefore,
to that group of philosophical systems which from other points
of view have been designated also as mechanical or pantheistic.
However differently expressed in the philosophical systems of

THE SUPERNATURAL 153
an Empedocles or a Lucretius, a Spinoza or a Giordano Bruno,
a Lamarck or a David Strauss, the fundamental thought com
mon to them all is ever that of the oneness of the cosmos, of
the indissoluble connection between energy and matter, between
mind and embodiment — or, as we may also say, between God
and the world' — to which Goethe, Germany's greatest poet and
thinker, has given poetical expression in his Faust and in the
wonderful series of poems entitled Gott und Welt." 15 This
" confession of faith of a man of science," as Haeckel calls it,
contains at least the following articles :
1. The universe or God, or, if you prefer, God or the uni
verse, is infinite ; for God " is the infinite sum of all natural
forces, the sum of all atomic forces and all ether- vibrations."16
2. In the infinite God or the infinite universe there are no
real distinctions. The organic is essentially one with the in
organic ; the animal is essentially one with the vegetable ; man
is essentially one with the animal; God is essentially one with
the world; in a word, the Supernatural is essentially one with
the natural.
3. This supernatural or natural God or universe is to be un
derstood in terms of matter. That is, Haeckel's monism is
materialistic monism. This is what he affirms. " Even clearer
does it become that all the wonderful phenomena of nature
around us, organic as well as inorganic, are only products of
one and the same original form, various combinations of one
and the same primitive matter."17 True, he would regard
mind as well as matter as an aspect of what is most primitive
and fundamental of all ; namely, " substance " : but that he
would conceive of substance and so of mind mechanically
rather than spiritually — this, too, is clear. Indeed, he says,
Monism " strives to carry back all phenomena, without excep
tion, to the mechanism of the atom." 18 In a word, materialistic
monism starts with " animated atoms " ; it would develop in
telligent atoms ; and it makes the Supernatural just " the infi
nite sum " of these atoms.
"Monism, pp. 3, 4, 5- "Ibid, p. 16.
"Ibid., p. 78. "Ibid., p. 19.

154

THE SUPERNATURAL

This hypothesis is invalid in at least the following three re
spects :
I. It begs the question. It starts with the life and con
sciousness and mind which are the very things to be explained.
That is, it assumes what is to be proved. Thus Haeckel says :
" The two fundamental forms of substance, ponderable matter
and ether, are not dead and only moved by extrinsic force, but
they are endowed with sensation and will (though naturally
of the lowest grade) ; they experience an inclination for con
densation, a dislike of strain; they strive after the one and
struggle against the other."19 " Every shade of inclination
from complete indifference to the fiercest passion is exemplified
in the chemical relation of the various elements towards each
other." 20 " On those phenomena we base our conviction that
even the atom is not without a rudimentary form of sensation
and will, or, as it is better expressed, of feeling (aesthesis)
and inclination (tropesis) — that is, a universal 'soul' of the
simplest character."21
" Thus, then, in order to explain life and mind and conscious
ness by means of matter," Sir Oliver Lodge writes, comment
ing on this very passage, " all that is done is to assume that
matter possesses these unexplained attributes."
" What the full meaning of that may be, whether there be
any philosophic justification for any such idea, is a matter
on which I will not now express an opinion; but, at any rate,
as it stands, it is not science, and its formulation gives no sort
of conception of what life and will and consciousness really
are." " Even if it were true, it contains nothing whatever in the
nature of explanation ; it recognizes the inexplicable, and rele
gates it to the atoms, where it seems to hope that further quest
may cease. Instead of tackling the difficulty when it actually
occurs ; instead of associating life, will, and consciousness with
the organisms in which they are actually in experience found,
these ideas are foisted into the atoms of matter; and then the
properties which have been conferred on the atoms are denied
19 The Riddle of the Universe, p. 78.
20 Ibid., p. 79. aIbid., p. 80.

THE SUPERNATURAL 155
in all essential reality to the fully developed organism which
those atoms help to compose ! " 22
2. The hypothesis under consideration does not beg enough.
Though it assumes what is to be proved, it must assume more
to complete its proof. Starting with " animated atoms " " not
without a rudimentary form of sensation and will," it develops
out of them the inorganic world ; then, the inorganic world
into the organic ; then, the vegetable into the animal ; then, the
animal into man; then, man into all that he has become and
even into all that he will become. Not less than this is what
materialistic monism undertakes to do; and, consequently, it
is according to its ability by means of its assumption to explain
how this can be done that it must stand or fall.
Now to do this, it has " animated atoms " " not without a
rudimentary form of sensation and will." This is what it
assumes and so is what it may work with ; yet though big and
utterly unwarranted as an assumption, this is all that it assumes
and so is all that it may work with. But much more is needed.
If this vast scheme of development is to be explained, intelli
gence, and not merely sensation and will, must come in, and
must come in at the start. For feeling and inclination presup
pose and are imposible without a condition or situation to be
felt and to be inclined towards or against. As Haeckel says,
" The two fundamental forms of substance, ponderable matter
and ether, experience an inclination for condensation, a dis
like of strain; they strive after the one and struggle against
the other." Nor is this all. The result of an evolution start
ing with and proceeding by means of this striving and strug
gling must, in the nature of the case, depend on the kind and
the degree of this condensation and of this strain, and on the
kind and degree of them from the first instant of attraction
and repulsion. Let there have been the smallest variation in
these then from what there was, and it would be an entirely
different universe that we should have now. How, then, came
it about that the atomic feeling and inclination began to act
under the one set of conditions that could have resulted in the
existing state of things ? By the law of probabilities, if it was
22 Life and Matter, p. 42.

I56 THE SUPERNATURAL
by chance, the chances were at least practically infinitely against
it. But if not by chance, it must have been by design. That is,
intelligence must have been not only implicit in but actually
operative at the beginning of evolution. Whence, however,
this intelligence? The hypothesis under criticism essays to
show its development, but it does not assume it as already in
exercise. Yet this it must go on and do, if it is to show
anything but its own imbecility.
3. The hypothesis that we are considering, not only begs
the question and still does not beg enough, but what it does
beg and must beg, even to save its face, is impossible. It as
sumes that " the universe, or the cosmos, is eternal, infinite, and
illimitable," " Its substance, with its two attributes (matter
and energy), fills infinite space, and is in eternal motion".
" This motion runs on through infinite time as an unbroken
development, with a periodic change from life to death, from
evolution to devolution." 23 That is, as we have seen, it as
sumes that the sum of all atomic forces and of all ether vi
brations is infinite and in that sense is God. This, moreover,
must be assumed. As just indicated, there is no other way of
escaping the necessity of positing an infinite intelligence dis
tinct from the universe and operative at its origin. To do this,
the cosmos must be regarded as itself " eternal, infinite, and
illimitable." Evolution must be the ultimate fact; like God,
it must have neither "beginning of days nor end of years ; " it
must itself be God himself, and so ultimate and thus beyond
either explanation or the need of it, if that which is determina
tive of it be so rudimentary and inadequate as mere atomic
feeling and atomic inclination. That is, we can get rid of the
Supernatural only by putting the natural in its place. To do
this, however, is impossible on any hypothesis, and it would
seem to be specially so on the one under review. For the
infinite substance which it assumes not only, as we have seen,
" fills infinite space, but is in eternal motion." Now this is
a contradiction. There are just two ways in which an infinite
substance can be said to fill infinite space. It can really fill it.
28 The Riddle of the Universe, p. 5.

THE SUPERNATURAL 157
That is, it can form a continuum. This, however, as Derr has
pointed out, will mean " the annihilation of space." Indeed,
there can be no space, if the ether of space be absolutely with
out pores or vacuities or parts; and this is just what a con
tinuum is, and what it must be to be a continuum."24 But " it
is inconceivable that motion should take place in a con
tinuum." 25 As Lucretius pointed out in his De Rerum Na-
tura (II, 95 sqq.), if there were no void spaces in the universe,
motion would be impossible. There would be no space to move
in; there would be no parts to move. On the other hand, if
ether does not form a continuum, if it does have pores, vacui
ties and parts, if in a word, there is either space within it for
its parts to move in or, we may add, space without it for it as
a whole to move in, then the cosmos can not be " eternal, infi
nite and illimitable." It could be conceived to be greater than
it is. It would be greater than it is, if its pores and vacuities
were filled and if it itself filled the infinitude of space. That is,
from the physical standpoint the cosmos cannot both be con
ceived as " eternal, infinite, and illimitable " and at the same
time be regarded as " in eternal motion " either with respect to
its parts or with respect to it itself as a whole. The two con
ceptions are contradictory and so are mutually exclusive. Of
course, it may be replied, and it is likely to be replied, to this
argumentation that it is purely speculative. This is true. No
scientist ever saw an atom or felt the ether. They are preem
inently mental creations. We do not cognize them by the
senses. As Ladd says, " It is only because of certain
irresistable convictions or as symptoms of mind that we be
lieve in their extra-mental reality." 26 Surely, then, criticism
of inferences from these mental convictions and assumptions
is in order. Thought-constructions must be tested by the laws
of thought. If physicists will be metaphysicians, it is by
metaphysics that they must be judged.
b. Idealistic Monism. — In this, as its name indicates and as
has been pointed out, the one absolute reality is conceived, not
24 The Uncaused Being and the Criterion of Truth, p. 72.
"Elements of Physiological Psychology, p. 677.
25 The Uncaused Being, p. 73-

I58 THE SUPERNATURAL
as matter or substance, but as spirit or subject. The world
is not composed of atoms; but it is a system of thought rela
tions, and God is just the unity and the identity of these
relations. All existence, consequently, is regarded as a mani
festation of the Absolute and the Universal Intelligence ; and
the inherent power of this "Absolute Idea " is conceived as the
sole agency at work in all transformations. Thus, whatever is
real is rational and whatever is rational is real ; and the rational
and real is neither more or less than the process of the logical
unfolding of the "Absolute Idea." In a word, if materialistic
monism makes the natural physical and puts it in the place
of the supernatural, idealistic monism makes the Supernatural
an idea and puts it in the place of the natural. That is, as
represented by the philosophy of Hegel, in an important sense
its source and type, it identifies the Supernatural and the nat
ural in a universal syllogism. That this scheme has advantages
over that just considered should go almost without saying.
It escapes the embarrassments which, as We have seen, mater
ialistic monism encounters from the start. Thus it does not
have to begin by begging animation and mind for matter ; for,
as Balfour has well said, " it makes reason the very essence of
all that is or can be : the immanent cause of the world-process ;
its origin and its goal." 27 Again, it does not have to beg fur
ther, in order to the evolution of the cosmos, the active and
developed reason which it is the chief function of the evolution
to evolve, for logical movement is of the essence of the Abso
lute Idea. Once more, it does not have to solve the insoluble
problem how the physical universe can be infinite and yet
in eternal motion; for it denies that there is a physical uni
verse. But in spite of these great advantages, this idealistic form of
the monistic hypothesis has to encounter difficulties which
would seem to be as fatal to it as are those that we have consid
ered to materialistic monism.
I. As Balfour has written, " In all experience there is a re
fractory element which, though it cannot be presented in iso
lation, nevertheless refuses wholly to merge its being in a
27 The Foundations of Belief, p. 143.

THE SUPERNATURAL 159
network of relations, necessary as these may be to give it ' sig
nificance for us as thinking beings.' If so, whence does this
irreducible element arise ? The mind, we are told, is the source
of relations. What is the source of that which is related? "28
We need not fall back on Kant's contradictory hypothesis of
" a thing in itself ", but must we not admit his dictum that
" without matter categories are empty ?" 29 That is, there is
reality which even idealistic monism must leave unexplained.
As an hypothesis of the universe, therefore, it is at least inade
quate. 2. Even where it should be strongest it will not work. That
is, it breaks down also when it encounters the individuality of
the self or ego. The reality of this individuality it denies. It
does this by bringing all self-consciousnesses to identity in the
divine self-consciousness. Because the self-consciousness of
men reveals a similarity of type, the Hegelian infers unity of
substance. This, however, is as much a non-sequitur as though
we were to argue that all oak trees were one because they were
all alike. Nay, it is a much more glaring non-sequitur; for
the distinguishing characteristic of every self-consciousness is
consciousness of itself as an individual. In the words of
Seth, " Though self-hood involves a duality in unity, and
is describable as subject-object, it is none the less true that
each self is a unique existence, which is perfectly impervious,
if I may so speak, to other selves — impervious in a fashion of
which the impenetrability of matter is a faint analogue. The
self, accordingly, resists invasion; in its character of self it
refuses to admit another self within itself, and thus be made, as
it were, a mere retainer of something else. The unity of things
(which is not denied) cannot be properly expressed by making
it depend upon a unity of the Self in all thinkers ; for the very
characteristic of a self is this exclusiveness."30 Moreover, this
fact is one with which an Hegelian specially is bound to reckon,
because with him self-consciousness is the ultimate category.
How, then, may he deny that exclusiveness, that individuality,
28 The Foundations of Belief, p. 144.
28 Critique of Pure Reason, Mtiller's translation, p. 45.
80 Hegelianism and Personality, p. 216.

i6o THE SUPERNATURAL
which, as we have seen, is the essence of self-consciousness?1
No hypothesis can work which thus repudiates the innermost
content of that for which it assumes to account. It is not,
therefore, too much to say that " the radical error of Hegelian-
ism is the unification of consciousness in a single Self."
Though it gave a valid explanation of self-consciousness in
other respects, its breakdown in this would be fatal; for this
is fundamental.
3. Its explanation, however, is invalid throughout. Even if
it might explain away the individuality of the self, it would
have to be set aside on other grounds, chief among them the
following :
Man is put in the place of God. This is done by making, as
we have seen, the human self-consciousness and the Absolute
" identical quantities ". " God or the Absolute is represented
in the system as the last term of a development into which we
have a perfect insight; we ourselves, indeed, as absolute phil
osophers, are equally the last term of the development." Thus
in the philosophy of law, of history, of aesthetics, and in the his
tory of philosophy itself, the Absolute is attained, being simply
man's record and ultimate achievement along these lines. Spe
cially is this so in the " philosophy of religion," where we should
naturally expect to meet it least. The self -existence of God
seems to disappear; he has his only reality in the conscious
ness of the worshipping community. " God is not a spirit
beyond the stars," says Hegel ; " He is Spirit in all spirits " :31
but this means, if not certainly to " the Master " himself, at
least to many of his disciples, that anything like a separate
personality or self-consciousness in the divine Being is re
nounced. In a word, we are put in the place of God. Can
any such explanation of the human self be valid? It contra
dicts that which is scarcely less fundamental in our conscious
ness than the sense of individuality, and that is the feeling of
dependence on the Supernatural. As Bacon has said, ' Man
looks up to God as naturally as the dog does to his master ; ' 32
but this he could never do, were there no God save " his own
great self ". Again, man as well as God is deprived of real
31 Werke, xi. 24. "Essay on Atheism.

THE SUPERNATURAL 161
existence. After putting the former in the place of the latter,
the hypothesis under review proceeds to destroy the former
also. This it does by dividing and so, of course, killing him.
His one concrete self is split into two. Of these that one of
which each of us is conscious is the man : and the other, that
which, according to Kant, unifies the former, and, according to
Fichte, thinks it, and, according to Schelling, is the ground of
it, and, according to Hegel, attains to self-consciousness, and
so truly manifests itself, in it, is the Absolute or God. This
division, however, does not more truly, as we have seen,
undeify God by practically identifying him with the human
self-consciousness than it dehumanizes man. Man is not " the
empirical self " ; or rather, the latter is only half the man,
only the objective side of his consciousness. It is a half, too,
that cannot exist, that cannot even be conceived, alone. If
there are to be merely states of consciousness, there must be a
subjective self of which they can be the states of consciousness.
Nor does it help matters that the place of this subjective self
is taken by what may be called the divine Self — a self identical
in all men, a self, as we have seen, identical with man. " The
individual seems thus to become no more than an object of the
divine Self, a series of phenomena threaded together and re
viewed by it — an office which it performs in precisely the same
manner for any number of such so-called individuals." Surely
this is to destroy man with a vengeance. He is made the
mere object of an undeified God. Nothing in himself, he can
be conceived to exist only in virtue of what cannot itself be re
garded as self-conscious save in him and as far as he. As
Seth puts it, " Human persons are, as it were, the foci
in which the impersonal life of thought momentarily concen
trates itself, in order to take stock of its own contents. These
foci appear only to disappear in the perpetual process of this
realization." 3S
This is to hypostalize an abstraction. " The impersonal life
of thought ", which is admitted to constitute the subjective
side of human consciousness, is, of course, such. Apart from
a person, without a thinker, thought can not be, it cannot
83 Hegelianism and Personality, p. 190.

I02 THE SUPERNATURAL
really be conceived as being; it is like an effect without a
cause, it is an effect without a cause. But the empirical self,
the phenomenal aspect of consciousness, is, by itself, equally
an abstraction. States of consciousness presuppose and neces
sarily involve a subject of those states. As well think of qual
ities as existing save as the qualities of some substance. Nor
will it help matters to take " the impersonal life of thought,"
as is done by at least the Hegelians of the Left, as the ground
of the individual self-consciousness. The combination of two
abstractions will not make one concrete reality any more than
zero plus zero will make unity. Hence, Seth is correct when
he says of the hypothesis under review : " It takes the notion
of knowledge equivalent to a real knower; and the form of
knowledge being one, it leaps to the conclusion that what
we have before us is the One Subject which sustains the
world, and is the real knower in all finite intelligences. It
seems a hard thing to say, but to do this is neither more nor
less than to hypostatize an abstraction." 34 Now to do this
is, in plain English, to make something of nothing.
But this is not the worst. Having so deceived itself as to
suppose that it has succeeded in working up mere abstractions
into a real agent, the hypothesis goes on to ascribe to its abso
lute Nothing an absolutely impossible achievement. This is
the creation as it were of reality. Though the Absolute is but
an idea, though it is merely abstract thought, the logical un
folding of its categories is regarded as giving the whole actual
world of nature and spirit. Hegelianism briefly expressed
teaches, according to Schopenhauer, that the universe is a crys
tallized syllogism. This, however, cannot be. " There is no
evolution possible of a fact from a conception." Logic can
develop the meaning of nature, but it cannot originate it. " It
cannot make the real, it can only describe what it finds."
Indeed, it itself presupposes nature or reality; and without it,
it is, as has been already observed, as powerless as it is empty.
How, then, may we posit a mere nonentity like the " Absolute
Idea " as the creator of such realities as the physical realm and
"* Hegelianism and Personality, p. 29.

THE SUPERNATURAL 163
even the human soul? No hypothesis of the self can be ten
able which leads to a result so irrational.
c. Pluralism. — This is the doctrine that reality consists of
a plurality or multiplicity of distinct beings. It may be atom
istic as with the atomists, or hylozoistic as with Empedocles, or
spiritual as with Leibnitz, or indifferent as with Herbart, whose
" unknowable reals " produce the phenomena of both mind and
matter. Be its character, however, what it may, it is essen
tially the reverse of the hypothesis just considered. Monism,
in both its materialistic and idealistic forms, admits that the
Supernatural is single, but denies that there is any radical
distinction between it and the natural. It is but the sum of the
natural in materialistic monism ; it is but the unity and identity
of the natural in idealistic monism. Pluralism, on the contrary,
denies the singleness and, consequently, the absoluteness of the
Supernatural, but admits the reality of distinctions. " The
atoms of the Atomist are endowed with perpetual motion which
they do not receive from a transcendent principle, but which
belongs to the essence ". We find no " notion of elementary
unity " in " the four elements " of Empedocles, but they are
equally " original ". The monads of Leibnitz are each of them
" little divinities in their own department." The " reals " of
Herbart are themselves " absolute ". That is, instead of one
all-comprehending substance or one all-unifying subject, we
have a plurality of independent, if not unrelated, substances
or subjects.
This hypothesis, according to Ward the one now dominant
(The Realm of Ends, p. 49), owes its special prominence and
importance at present largely to the late William James.
" Reality ", he says, " may exist in distributive form, in shape
not of an all but of a set of eaches, just as it seems to."35
God, then, is not " the absolute, but is himself a part when the
system is conceived pluralistically. He has an environment,
he is in time, he works out a history just like ourselves." 36
Distinct from us, he is not single among us or over us, being
finite and relative as are we. That this view has not a little
to commend it appears almost on its face. As William James
35 A Pluralistic Universe, p. 129. 3° Ibid., p. 318.

1 64 THE SUPERNATURAL
points out, God, because finite and relative, " escapes from the
f oreignness from all that is human, of the static timeless perfect
absolute." 37 Inasmuch as he is like us even to the extent of
being limited as we are, we can feel that he is one with us.
Again, the problem of evil becomes much easier from this
standpoint. " The line of least resistance," says William
James, " both in theology and in philosophy, is to accept, along
with the superhuman consciousness, the notion that it is not all-
embracing, the notion, in other words, that there is a God, but
that he is finite, either in power or in knowledge, or in both at
once." 38 We need not then explain his permission of evil :
we may hold that he would conquer it, but cannot. Though
indefinitely superior to us, he is no more absolute than are we.
Hence, God and we are bound together in a bond of sympathy
such as can bind those only who are fighting shoulder to
shoulder in an as yet uncertain battle. Once more, reality
seems to exist distributively. Though the universe may, in the
last resort, be what William James calls " a block-universe," 39
that is, an absolute system ; still, it is as " only strung along, not
rounded in and closed," that we become aware of it. We
know it simply as an aggregation of " eaches ". Why, then,
should we admit more than this into any hypothesis with regard
to it ? That is, in not positing a single because absolute Super
natural, pluralism is at least true to what appears.
On the other hand, however, this hypothesis encounters
difficulties neither few nor small. Among these are the follow
ing: I . Pluralism, though true to what appears, is not true to all
that appears. It may be true to the world of reality as the
senses make that known to us, but it is not true even to our
sensations and perceptions as these are interpreted to us by self-
consciousness. For we find in the latter, and all men, in propor
tion as they develop mentally and their development is not
biased by philosophy, find in the latter, the idea of the cosmos.
That is to say, the human race, in so far as it thinks on these
subjects, thinks naturally of the world as one system. Even
S1 A Pluralistic Universe, p. 318.
"Ibid., p. 311. "Ibid., p. 328.

THE SUPERNATURAL 165
Zoroastrianism was not originally dualistic. Now there is no
reason why this natural and well nigh universal belief in
monism of some kind should not commend itself to us at least
as much as the exceptional belief in pluralism. Indeed, the
former stands better accredited. Pluralism in its denial of the
cosmos denies one of those native principles of the mind which,
as we saw in our discussion of positivism, must be admitted or
knowledge even by sensation and perception becomes im
possible. Were this not so, however, the bare fact of science would
establish that the world is not what William James describes
as " only strung along ", but is what he calls " a block uni
verse " or what we prefer to term a cosmos. It is not, as the
idealistic monist holds, only a system of thought-relations :
but it is constructed throughout in accord with thought rela
tions ; and so it is one system, that is, a cosmos. The proof of
this is that reason can and does interpret it and that mind can
and does understand it. Were it otherwise, there could be
no science as there can be no science of any jumble of inde
pendent facts. It is only as these can be viewed monistically
rather than pluralistically that a science of them can be even
conceived. The progress of science is, therefore, the denial of
pluralism. Though this progress be small in comparison with
the land yet to be possessed, enough has been systematized to
warrant, if not to constrain, the belief that all can be possessed.
Much of the universe may still, as William James would say,
not be " closed in " ; but what has been " closed in " indicates
as the reason why more has not been " closed in ", that our
reason is limited, not that the world is not a rationalized whole.
2. Where pluralism claims to be strongest it is weakest. The
doctrine of a finite God appears to commend itself to the heart.
At first sight a God who would prevent evil, but cannot, is more
attractive than one who permits it though, since he is omnipo
tent, he could prevent it. On second thought, however, not only
is the mind unable to tolerate a finite God, but even the heart
can " see no beauty in him that it should desire him ". On the
one hand, omnipotence and omniscience may be variously
conceived; but, whether as held by the savage or by the

1 66 THE SUPERNATURAL
scholar, they are essential to his conception of God. The rea
son for this is that man has a primitive belief in the infinite.
As, therefore, he must naturally believe in God, so he must
naturally believe him to be infinite. He could not think of God
as the greatest and the best that he knows unless he did so. On
the other hand, it is precisely the omnipotence and the omni
science of God which give its unique worth to God's love for
us and sympathy with us. These can be supremely precious be
cause they differ from all other love and sympathy not only
in degree but in kind. It is just because we can feel that
God can do for us and can be to us all that " love which passes
knowledge " can prompt that we stay our hearts on him and
find perfect peace in him. It is easier far to trust that he loves
us even when he chastens us and that he chastens us " for our
profit that we may be partakers of his holiness " than it would
be to rest our souls on him if we had even to suspect that, in
spite of all his greatness, he was limited in power and wis
dom as are we. There would always be the fearful possibility
that at last we might be cast away. Even Paul, had he been a
pluralist, could never have exclaimed, " For I am persuaded
that nothing shall be able to separate us from the love of God
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord " (Rom. viii. 38, 39). Thus
pluralism fails just where it thinks itself the strongest. It
compromises with the head for the sake of the heart only to
be repudiated by the heart.
3. Logically, pluralism must give the lie to our religious
nature and thus silence and at last destroy it. As Derr has
written, " The religious implications of pluralism are obvious.
All the various ' Eaches ' are coeternal and therefore coequal,
and enter into unions or combinations with one another of their
own free will. Nothing can be compulsory amid the vast de
mocracy of uncaused beings, for they are all independent of one
another, and exist by the necessity of their own nature. They
are all finite in power, for the sphere of activity of each is
limited by each, hence a multitude of infinite beings is impos
sible. Nor can we, with any show of reason, assume that any
one of these equal beings can lift itself so high above the
rest as to assert sovereignty over them. All the eaches being

THE SUPERNATURAL 167
gods in their own right, there is no such a being as A God;
the word, indeed, loses all its significance. And thus pluralism
or modern polytheism ends in absolute nihilism, and the re
ligious sentiment must necessarily go by default."40 Can
any hypothesis be true which thus destroys that which is
noblest in the noblest being in the world that it is assumed to
account for?
These, then, are the hypotheses which contradict that doc
trine of the Supernatural which Christianity presupposes and
which, accordingly, we would vindicate : positivism, which de
nies the Supernatural altogether, both its separateness and its
singleness; monism, which, in either of its forms, admits its
singleness but denies its separateness from the world; and
pluralism, which denies its singleness but admits its separate
ness. Inasmuch as each one of these has been shown to be
untenable, does it not follow that we should approach the
only other hypothesis possible in the nature of the case, the
hypothesis that there is a real Supernatural both separate from
the world even as immanent in it and single in it and over it
— does it not now follow that we should take up this hypothesis
with a presumption at least that it is true? Some world-view
that really explains the universe there must be, and this would
seem to be the only other possible.
This presumption is strengthened by the fact that the Chris
tian doctrine of the Supernatural would, if true, meet all the
necessary conditions. Thus positivism, as we have seen, fails
to interpret even the world as made known by the senses,
through denying those innate ideas only under whose guid
ance can the senses conduct to knowledge: but the Christian
doctrine of the Supernatural both recognizes and guarantees
these ideas; as an idea it is one of them, and its subject, the
supreme Intelligence, is the author of them, " the light that
lighteneth every man coming into the world."
Again, if monism breaks down, in its materialistic form be
cause it denies an absolute Spirit separate from the physical
world, and in its idealistic form because it denies the separate
ness of such a Spirit from all finite spirits ; so the view of the
a The Uncaused Being and The Criterion of Truth, p. 39.

t68 THE SUPERNATURAL
Supernatural that we would vindicate supplies in both cases
the deficiency by holding that God is not only single in him
self, but absolutely distinct from the world whether of matter
or of spirit.
Once more, if pluralism fails, and must fail, permanently
to satisfy man's mental, emotional and religious natures for
the reason that its Supernatural is not single and so cannot
be absolute, the Christian doctrine of the Supernatural
comes up to the requirements even in this respect; for it con
ceives of the Supernatural as him " by whom were all things'
created that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and
invisible, whether they be thrones or dominions, or principali
ties, or powers : all things were created by him, and for him :
and he is before all things, and by him all things consist"
(Coll. i. 16, 17).
Moreover, the Christian doctrine of the Supernatural is
a satisfactory hypothesis in fact as well as in logic. To
prove and to illustrate this, it is necessary simply to recall
what has been said with reference to the " Importance of
the Supernatural ". As we have seen, not only do Chris
tian apologetics and Christian dogmatics presuppose the Super
natural in the sense in which this paper conceives it as the
end of the former and the subject of the latter ; but philosophy,
science, morality, religion, human progress and civilization, —
all depend on its reality and, were there opportunity, could
be shown to prosper in proportion as this reality is recognized.
Could this be, if the Christian view of the Supernatural were
untrue ? That a doctrine will work does not of itself prove it
to be true ; but that it has worked well — this must, at any rate,
raise a presumption that it is true, and must greatly strengthen
any presumption of this sort already existing. Can less than
this be meant by the Highest of all authorities when he says
of false prophets, " Ye shall know them by their fruits " (Mt.
vii. 16) ? Clearly, then, the burden of proof is on those who
would deny the existence of the Supernatural. It is for them
to refute, it is not for us to establish, the Christian position.
Strictly, according to the law of parsimony, no argument for
the Christian hypothesis is called for. It is the only one that

THE SUPERNATURAL 169
has not been proved to be untenable ; it has been shown to be
satisfactory in theory ; it has been found to be indispensable in
practice. Therefore, the threefold argument about to be ad
vanced for it ought at least to be received with the highest
respect and to be considered as from the start having every
thing in its favor.
1. The argument from the consent of philosophy.. — Most
schools of philosophy declare for the Supernatural. In a sense,
all of them do. Thus Comte, the founder of positivism, re
pudiates the Supernatural avowedly, but he devises a very com
plicated system of worship and finds in " aggregate humanity "
an object for it. Even this most significant concession does
not satisfy his successors. Herbert Spencer, whether we re
gard him as a positivist or a monist or an agnostic, not un
justly represents them; and he comes out clearly and strongly
for the Supernatural. " The axiomatic truths of physical
science unavoidably postulate Absolute Being as their common
basis. The persistence of the universe is the persistence of
that Unknown Cause, Power or Force which is manifested
to us through all phenomena. Such is the foundation of any
possible system of positive knowledge. Deeper than demon
stration — deeper even than definite cognition — deep as the very
nature of the mind is the postulate at which we have arrived.
Its authority transcends all other whatever; for not only is it
given in the constitution of our own consciousness, but it is
impossible to imagine a consciousness so constituted as not
to give it . . . Thus the belief which this datum consti
tutes has a higher warrant than any other whatever." 41 Even
Haeckel, the great exponent of monism, while repudiating all
being above nature, concludes his " Monistic Confession of
Faith " with the words : " May God, the Spirit of the Good,
the Beautiful, and the True, be with us."42 So, too, the first
of modern pluralists, William James, even when arguing
for a finite God, admits that the hypothesis of the absolute
" must in spite of its irrational features, still be left open,43
and seems to claim as the reason why it must be so that " it
41 First Principles, pp. 256, 258, 98. a Monism, p. 89.
a A Pluralistic Universe, p. 125.

t7o THE SUPERNATURAL
gives peace ",44 These concessions do not class their authors
with the Supernaturalists ; but are they not testimony, strong
just because it was unexpected and is unwilling, to the
truth of the supernaturalistic position? Thinkers can not
leave this position and not try to find a substitute for it. Thus
they prove at least its necessity and so indirectly its truth.
If such is the force of the teaching even of antisupernatural-
ists, it is not too much to claim that philosophy as a whole on
the whole declares for the reality of the Supernatural, if not
in the precise form of the Christian doctrine, yet in what ap
proximates and tends towards it. Did not our limits forbid,
nothing could be easier than to illustrate and establish this
statement from such masters in philosophy as Plato, Aristotle,
Cicero, Bacon, Descartes, Berkeley, Kant, Hamilton, Lotze,
and many others. Indeed, as Lindsay writes, " We may surely
say that it has become more clearly manifest that what thought
as to the Primal Reality known as God testifies to is, above all
else, the fact that such Inscrutable Reality, or the Unknowable,
does undoubtedly exist." 45
This amounts to a great deal. It shows that the ablest
thinkers in all ages, though they may not speak as religious
teachers and though some of them may speak even as the
enemies of the Christian religion, nevertheless, give it as the
last result of their deepest and best thinking that the Supernat
ural both does and must exist. This, of course, is not demon
stration. The objective cannot be deduced from the subjec
tive. The general consent, however, that we have been con
sidering does prove that belief in the reality of the Super
natural is not the idiosyncrasy of some peculiar thinkers, and
that we must grant it to be a true belief or allow the useless-
ness and even the folly of the best thinking in every age
and the world over. But this is not sufficient. It may be
urged that philosophy is the product of an artificial humanity,
and that, consequently, it does not voice the natural and so
best judgment of the race. We need, therefore, to appeal to,
2. The necessity of religion. — Religion is a universal phe-
41 A Pluralistic Universe, p. 114.
45 Recent Advances in Theistic Philosophy, p. 5.

THE SUPERNATURAL 1 71
nomenon. All men as men and because men are religious
in one way or another. Even those thinkers who have yielded
themselves to an intense and absorbing skepticism and whose
religious nature has in consequence become atrophied confess
the moral and spiritual necessity of religion, and their skepti
cism makes their reluctant confession all the more impres
sive. We have seen this to have been so in the case of Comte.
It might as readily have been shown to have been so in the
case of J. S. Mill and of many others. What is even more
to the point is that no tribe has been found so degraded as
not to evidence at least the beginnings of religion. The
claims that such had been discovered of scientists like Sir John
Lubbock and of travelers like Sir Samuel Baker have all
been refuted by wider and more careful investigation. For
example, Roskoff has declared that " no tribe has yet occurred
without trace of religious sentiments." Peschel has decidedly
denied " any tribe having been found quite without religious
emotions and ideas." In like vein, Hellwald affirms that " no
tribes completely without religion have thus far been met
with." 46 The universality of religion would seem, therefore,
to be a commonplace of anthropological science; and the fact
that, no matter how debased, man is never observed to be
destitute of something which to him is religion would appear
to show that it belongs to his essence. In a word, religion
is so universal among men that it must be necessary to man.
As Kellogg puts it, " Its beliefs have been so universally ac
cepted in all ages by men of both the highest and the lowest
degree of culture, that we can hardly avoid the conclusion that
they must be due to a certain instinct of man's nature." 47
So far as can be seen, he can no more get away from religion
than a beast can escape the power of instinct. Indeed, the
religious feeling is man's instinct, and so the highest and
noblest of all instincts.
In the next place, religion is impossible, if there be no under
lying sense of the reality of the Supernatural. Were this ab
sent, whatever we might have, we should not have what we
''Lindsay's Recent Advances in Theistic Philosophy, p. 54.
"Handbook of Comparative Religion, p. 10.

172

THE SUPERNATURAL

recognize as religion. From the highest religion to the lowest,
this belief in the reality of the Supernatural, of that which is
above the world and which, in so far forth, is distinct from
the world and itself single, is the one common and characteris
tic element. Let there be nothing left of religion but a vague
sentiment, an undefined aspiration, an unintelligent impulse;
still, so far as it goes, this is a belief in and a craving for a
real Supernatural and such a Superntural as we would vin
dicate. " In most, if not in all cases where men worship gods
many," says Kellogg, " there is discoverable in the back
ground of the religious consciousness the dim outline of one
sole Power, of which the many who are worshipped are either
different manifestations, or to which they hold a position
strictly subordinate." 48 Were this not so, however, our argu
ment would not be weakened. What is significant is not that
the Supernatural is conceived in all religions essentially as
we have defined it, or that it is conceived at all; it is that all
religions, even the lowest, reveal in their development the ten
dency toward such a conception: just as in appetite the sig
nificant thing is not that animals have from the first a clear
idea of nourishment or that they have any idea of it ; it is that
the tendency to suck always develops into the desire for and
the eating of what will nourish. That is, as Edward Caird has
so well shown in his Evolution of Religion, it is the end
and not the beginning of a process of development which re
veals its nature. Hence, if religion be, as we have tried to
make plain, the expression of man's distinctive instinct; so the
religious instinct is the instinct for a true Supernatural just
as the young animal's tendency to suck is because of an instinct
for real food.
Now we find that every instinct has an object fitted to grat
ify it. According to all observation, the belief in the reality of
the object that its craving implies is justified. There is its
mother's milk to satisfy the sucking child. There is the
southern land to satisfy the swallow's instinct in early autumn
to fly to the southern land. There is the ocean to satisfy the
young fish's instinct, which constrains it, though it has never
"Handbook of Comparative Religion, p. 7.

THE SUPERNATURAL

173

been away from the spawning grounds far up the stream, to
swim toward the ocean. Hence, to prove the existence of an
instinct is to prove the reality of the object fitted to gratify it.
Why, then, should it not be so in the case of the instinct for the
Supernatural ? Nay, how could it not be so ?
This does not demonstrate the reality of the Supernatural.
It does, however, demonstrate that the Supernatural exists:
or else, that there is an exception to the apparently univer
sal and beneficent law of instinct; that this exception is in the
case of the highest of all animals, man ; and that it is in the in
stance of w*hat in him is noblest. That is, the law of instinct
breaks down, so far as we can see, only in the one creature
that is capable of appreciating it, and with reference to that
element of his nature which exalts him most. This is not
demonstration, but is it not a reductio ad absurdum? This
will be shown yet more clearly, if we consider,
3. The necessity in thought. — There is thought. This no
one can deny. In denying it we should affirm it : the denial
involves thinking, it is itself thinking. Thus thought itself
is a necessity.
There is a necessity in thought. Not only can we not help
thinking, but we must think in accord with certain rational
principles. For example, if you think of finite being, you
must believe in other being that is its ground. The former,
because it is finite, cannot but be dependent; and what is con
ceived as dependent can be conceived only as we posit, defin
itely or not, that which can be its ground. We can no more
think otherwise than we can think of a building that stands and
yet has nothing on which to stand. There is a principle in the
case that thought cannot set aside any more than it can cause
itself to cease. Again, you cannot think of an event, a change,
an effect, and not act on and thus really think in accord with
the principle that everything that is finite, that begins to be,
must have a cause. If you are in pain, you try to find out what
produces it, and thus you show that, whatever may be your
theory, you believe that there must be something or must have
been something with power to produce it, that is, a real cause
of it. You may even teach with Hamilton, that there is no

I74 THE SUPERNATURAL
positive power in a cause; that the cause of each and every
phenomenon is " a negative impotence " ; that we believe in
the reality of causation, not because it is real, but because we
cannot think it unreal. Still, even this theory will not make us
any abler to think it unreal. Indeed, our denial of the prin
ciple of causation will only render more conspicuous and sig
nificant our practical recognition of it. We can no more
help acting on it than we can cease thinking. Once more,
we cannot think of acts and not regard them as the acts of
some subject, of some agent. We can consider acts, as gov
erning, as making, as upholding, as creating, by themselves;
but we cannot conceive of them as taking place by themselves.
Even when our abstraction of them as acts from their subject
is complete, it never occurs to us to suppose that in reality they
are either separated or separable from it. Though we may
think of them singly we must believe the act to be impossible
apart from its subject. This is a principle that thought is
bound to observe. It can no more transcend this principle
than it can arrest itself. Other necessary laws of thought
might be mentioned, but these are sufficient for our purpose.
These principles reveal the necessity of the Supernatural.
For example, the ground that, as we have seen, every thought
of the finite presupposes is, in the last analysis, the Super
natural. Unless you posit this and thus find in it a self-subsis
tent ground of being, the finite universe, which cannot be con
ceived without a ground, is left without one. Thus this prin
ciple of thought discloses the necessity, if not the nature, of the
Supernatural. Though it does not show us all that it is, it does
show us that it must be. Only its real existence can satisfy the
demands of thought. In like manner, the manifold changes and
effects which make up the world require an absolute or un
caused cause, and so reveal the necessity of the Supernatural.
Unless we assume this Supernatural cause, nature becomes at
last a causeless effect; and this, because nature is essentially
finite, is a contradiction. Nor will it help us to regard the series
of finite causes and effects that constitute the world as infinite.
This pushes the difficulty off where we cannot see it, but in so
doing it only aggravates it. An infinite series of finite causes

THE SUPERNATURAL 175
and effects is as truly without a sufficient reason as is a finite
series of such causes and effects. The main difference between
the two is that the former is an infinite contradiction, whereas
the latter is but a finite one. Nor does the fact that we cannot
go back in the former case even in thought to the point at
which the series ends and where we discern the necessity of
the Self-subsistent Uncaused Cause render it less a necessity.
As vigorously as though it could discern just where such a
cause was required does the mind insist on its necessity. Only
in such a cause can it find the power that it cannot conceive of
the universe as not demanding. Thus this principle, too, makes
known to us the necessity of the Supernatural. It does not set
it before us as in a picture, but it will not suffer us not to
think of it as the painter of the passing world-picture that we
cannot help seeing. So also the Absolute Subject that such
acts as the creating and the upholding of the universe postu
late is the Supernatural. As every act evinces a subject in
action, so these acts cannot but evidence an Unconditioned or
Supernatural Subject. The reason for this is that these acts
are and must be themselves unconditioned, and so can be the
acts only of an unconditioned subject. Nor may it be disputed
that these acts are and must be themselves unconditioned.
Let it be remembered that by the universe we mean the organ
ism into the constitution of which enter all finite, related, con
ditioned beings and things, and this will at once appear. It is
not more evident that such a universe requires, because it is
finite, relative, conditioned, to be upheld than that the uphold
ing of it cannot depend in any way on it, and so must itself be
essentially unconditioned.- This should be as clear as that the
unfailing energizing of Atlas in the fable would have had to
be absolutely unconditioned by the world that he was supposed
to support on his broad shoulders. Thus this principle, as those
already noticed and as others that could be adduced, is not only
a necessity of thought, but necessarily makes known in thought
the Supernatural. If it does not unveil all its lineaments, it
does reveal its necessity in the necessity of its acts.
In short, the Supernatural is at the end of all thinking. Take
a blade of grass and think long enough and deeply enough with

176 THE SUPERNATURAL
reference to it, and you come up against the Supernatural.
Every line of consistent thinking as to reality brings you
to it as directly, as inevitably, as under the Roman Empire all
roads led to the " Eternal City." If any do not find this to be
so, it is not because it is not so; it is only because they do
not follow their thought to its conclusion. Thought is not more
a necessity than the Supernatural is the necessity in thought.
We cannot think truly and deeply and not believe practically
in its reality. Hence, again, the already noticed universality
of religion. It is not only the manifestation of what we may
call the instinct of humanity; it is also the expression of the
most profound necessity of rational thought. As Calderwood
puts it, "All intelligence moves toward the Absolute or Self-
existent;"49 and, "The essential implication of intelligence
is that all finite being is traced to a self-existent fountain of
Being." 50
Now " we find that whatever is necessary to thought in the
sphere of the natural has its correspondent reality in being."
Does thought affirm that every finite object requires a ground
of support? Scientific investigation discovers it: even the
earth, that seems to hang unsupported in mid air, swings se
curely in an orbit made by the action of well-known forces.
Does thought declare that every effect must have a cause?
The scientist ferrets it out : though with the naked eye he can
not see the microbe that causes the pestilence, he detects and
studies it with the microscope. Does thought refuse to con
ceive of acts save as the acts of some subject? We always
find the subject, if we look long and carefully enough: by
the ripple on the water far away we may know that it is blow
ing, though we neither hear nor feel the wind; but let us pull
toward the ripple, and soon the breeze itself strikes our droop
ing sails. If, then, these principles are thus found to be trust
worthy in the sphere of the natural or finite, why should we
not trust them in the sphere of the Supernatural or Infinite?
Nay, we must trust them. Grant that they are " regulative
principles." Still, it is not of intelligence in itself, but of in
telligence as that concerns itself with reality that they are
49 Handbook of Moral Philosophy, p. 257. M Ibid., p. 259.

THE SUPERNATURAL 177
regulative. As Calderwood puts it, " The whole force of
these principles is seen to be concerned with objective re
ality."51 Whether there be reality or not outside of the think
ing process, the significance of these principles is that they
point to it and insist on it. They would not be what they are,
they would not be at all, if they did not do this. This demand
of theirs for reality objective to themselves is what gives to
them their character. It is their significance. Moreover, as we
have already seen, the reality which they demand is, in the last
analysis, self-existent, uncaused and unconditioned. This, if
we may so speak, is the significance of their significance. If,
therefore, we verify or prove these principles on their lower
side, as we have seen that we do, we may not distrust them on
the higher. As Calderwood writes, " We cannot regard them
as trustworthy in their application to the concrete yet un
trustworthy in their very significance."52 Thus, though we
were not able to verify them on their higher or supernatural
side, verification on their lower or natural side would imply
verity on their higher. We should be bound to believe in the
objective reality as well as in the mental necessity of the
Supernatural, even though we had no faculties with which to
apprehend it; just as the astronomer without a telescope is
sure that, if he had a telescope, he would find a splendid planet
where his calculations, which hitherto have been invariably
sustained, tell him that one must be. That is, a principle could
not justify itself in every case within the limits of observation,
if in its very significance it were untrue; and the regulative
principles that we have been considering would be untrue in
their very significance, if the Supernatural, on whose objective
existence they insist as the reality of realities, were not itself
of all realities the most real.
It is not the fact, moreover, that the principles in question
have no verification when applied to the Supernatural. On the
contrary, there is a consciousness of God. As Shedd says,
it is " a universal and abiding form of human conscious
ness." 53 In addition to the craving after, the instinct for,
11 Handbook of Moral Philosophy, p. 264. " Ibid., p. 264.
58 Dogmatic Theology, Vol. i, p. 210.

1 78 THE SUPERNATURAL
the Supernatural, which has already been noticed as the
universal and necessary root of religion, all men may know,
and, as a matter of fact, most men do know, the Supernatural.
Though they can neither see nor hear nor touch nor taste nor
smell it, they are often awed by it; in their more serious
moments they feel its presence ; and so they must be conscious
of it. Thus the principles which we have been considering are
verified in the case of the Supernatural as in that of the natural.
The telescope of Galle revealed the planet which the calcula
tions of Leverrier and of Adams necessarily called for as the
cause of certain perturbations of the solar system; and, in
like manner, we are conscious of the Supernatural that reason
with equal urgency demands as the ground and cause of the
universe and the agent involved in its creation and preservation
and government. Nor may it be said that this consciousness
of the Supernatural is a mere hallucination. It is too general
and especially too constant to be thus explained. Illusions
vanish when the light is turned on them. The so-called illu
sion of the Supernatural, however, continues, though from the
very first every effort has been made and is being made to ex
pose it. Nor may it be urged either that some have lost this
God-consciousness and some seem never to have had it.
This amounts to nothing in view of its prevalence and persist
ence. He who does not use his eyes in the light will lose
them, and the fish that are now hatched in the streams in the
Mammoth Cave have none to lose. The significant fact is
not that there are a few men who appear to have no conscious
ness of the Supernatural; it is rather that not a single indi
vidual was ever conscious that there was not a Supernatural.
Says La Bruyere, " Je sens qu'il y a un dieu et je ne sens
pas qu'il n'y en ait point." 54
Beyond all this, the ultimate facts, the best attested realities,
when considered objectively, that is, in themselves, quite as
much as when viewed subjectively, that is, as necessities of
thought, reveal the Supernatural as the fact which they all
presuppose, as the reality which alone gives to them reality.
Thus they evidence the Supernatural as truly as a building evi-
54 Les Caracteresj c. 16.

THE SUPERNATURAL 179
dences its foundation. For example, finite reality implies
infinite or self-subsistent reality. But for this as its ground,
it could not continue reality. The more real the world may ap
pear the more deeply is this dependence written on it. In
like manner, duality testifies to the reality of the Supernatural.
How could real mind and real matter interact and together
form the cosmos, did they not have a bond and controller as
real as they, but superior to them and so supernatural? Such
also is the witness of personality. The reality of the finite ego
involves the Infinite Ego. As the human spirit, because finite,
must depend on something; so because he is a spirit and thus
a higher reality than matter, he can depend only on another
and Infinite or Supernatural Ego. Hence, we observe that,
in proportion as men come to know themselves, does their con
sciousness of the Supernatural develop. Indeed, self-conscious
ness cannot be true and not develop God-consciousness. As
Calvin writes, " No man can take a survey of himself but he
must immediately turn to the contemplation of God in whom he
' lives and moves '." 55 So, too, morality. Its objective obli
gatory ideal, its law, reveals a law giver and moral governor;
and in the fact that his law is universal, eternal, and immutable,
we see that he himself must be the Absolute, the Supernatural.
Thus do these first and fundamental facts reveal the Super
natural. One and all, they involve it as the reality of realities.
It is possible to object that all this is only subjective delu
sion. We may affirm with J. S. Mill, that even the necessary
principles of thought have no necessary validity; that, for ex
ample, from the fact that two and two make four in this
world it does not follow that they do so in any other ; and that
consequently, the necessity to thought of the reality of the
Supernatural argues nothing as to its actual reality. We may
hold with Maudsley, that the individual consciousness is un
trustworthy; that, therefore, though Maudsley, with blessed
inconsistency, denied this, the general consciousness of the
race is not to be depended on [ and, hence, that the practically
universal consciousness of the Supernatural affords no real
verification of our necessary belief in its reality. We may
K Institutes, i. 1.

180 THE SUPERNATURAL
after the manner of Kant, in his Critique of the Pure Reason,
declare that we see things, not as they are, but as our minds
project themselves into them; and that thus we discern the
Supernatural as implied in all the ultimate verities, only be
cause of what we are, not because of what they are. All
this we can do. But is it rational so to do? This is the ques
tion. Can we think thus and not commit intellectual suicide?
That is, can we think thus and thought not contradict and so
destroy itself? If its necessary principles, if its deepest con
sciousness, if its ultimate verities, are all to be set aside, it
itself must be utterly discredited. This happening, what is
left ? Not the external world : we know it only as the object
of thought. Not the knowing self : we know it only as it re
veals itself in thought. Not even the certainty that we do
not know the world without or the self within : to know even
this involves the trustworthiness of thought. Thus the denial
of the objective reality of the Supernatural issues in and so
means absolute nescience and practical nihilism. In a word,
as H. B. Smith says, " All minds believe and must
believe in the Supernatural, unless they proclaim all Truth and
all Being to be a mockery and a delusion." 56 It may still be
replied that even this reductio ad absurdum is no formal
demonstration. It should, however, be answered, What use
for a demonstration of the Supernatural can they have whose
position with reference to the Supernatural gives the lie to
those very intellectual processes in which demonstration con
sists. Moreover, that we have not framed, and cannot frame,
a formal demonstration of the objective reality of the Super
natural is itself confirmation of such reality. If we could
ground it in any thing deeper and so prove its existence strictly,
we should only prove that it was not the Supernatural whose
existence we had proved. From its very nature the Super
natural must be incapable of formal demonstration.
m Apologetics, p. 26.

THE SUPERNATURAL 181

IV.
The Manifestation of the Supernatural.
The question is not whether the Supernatural has manifested
itself fully nor whether it could so manifest itself. As the
only manifestation with which we are concerned is to us, and
thus to the natural, such manifestation of the Supernatural as
the above must, in the nature of the case, be impossible and
even inconceivable. Because infinite and absolute, the Super
natural cannot but be, in the most real sense, unknown and un
knowable. It is true that the pantheists dispute this. They hold, not
only that the Absolue is known, but that knowledge of the Ab
solute is absolute knowledge. Their postulates are, that there
is one Infinite Substance or Absolute Idea of which all rela
tive and finite phenomena are but modifications; that, conse
quently, the development of the finite and relative from the
Infinite and Absolute, inasmuch as it is a process necessarily
implied in and resulting from the very nature of the Infinite
and Absolute, must be demonstrable; and that thus man, be
cause himself one with the Infinite and Absolute, and identical
in his own consciousness and life with its processes, can and
does know it. That is, since man's thinking is the immediate
activity of the Supernatural, his knowledge of it is as direct
and as complete as it is of himself. In knowing the latter he
really knows the former. We have seen, however, that this
position is contradicted by consciousness. Its deepest and most
characteristic testimony is to the individuality of the self. So
far from identifying it with the Supernatural, it affirms the
sharpest distinction between them. Thus we cannot take
the pantheistic standpoint and not invalidate consciousness;
but consciousness is the foundation of philosophy, even the
basis of knowledge. Still further, pantheism exposes weakness
fatal to itself in the claim which it makes and must make.
This claim is that the transition from the Infinite and Abso
lute to the finite and relative, from the Supernatural to the

T82 THE SUPERNATURAL
natural, can be demonstrated and explained. This cannot
be done. As H. B. Smith says, " The real problem —
equally a problem with pantheist and theist — is not to show that
the one includes the other, but rather to show how the transi
tion must or may be made from the one to the other." 57 On
either system here is the mystery. Both find at this point a
knot that cannot be untied. The difference between them is
that theism need not untie it, whereas pantheism must. On the
one hand, theism accounts for the natural as the creation of
the Supernatural. It is the result of an infinite and absolute
self-conscious Will. The method of this will's operation,
however, the theist is not obliged to set forth. He need only
show, as he can show, that creation is possible to an absolute
will ; and he may grant that the mode of creation is a mystery
necessarily beyond the scrutiny of human science. We our
selves so often make what is other than we are that we should
not stumble at the creation of the natural by the Supernatural.
The latter act is one whose possibility does not depend on its
comprehension by us. Nay, it is one that could not be the
kind of act that it must be were it comprehended by us. On
the other hand, however, pantheism would explain, and be
cause it admits but one substance, must explain, the natural
as an emanation from or an outgoing of, the Supernatural.
That is, it may not, as we have just seen that theism may, leave
the mode of transition from the Infinite and Absolute to the
finite and relative a mystery : but it is obliged to explain the
transition as a passing of the Infinite and Absolute into the
finite and relative; as one thing, not making, but itself
becoming, a radically different thing. Now this is not a mys
tery; it is a contradiction, an impossibility. We need not,
therefore, and, indeed, may not, inquire as to the truth of the
pantheistic position, that a knowledge of the Absolute is abso
lute knowledge. In view of what we have just seen that this
position involves, such an inquiry becomes irrational.
The question, however, is, whether the Supernatural has so
manifested itself that, though partially, it can be and is known
by us. " Apologetics, p. 69.

THE SUPERNATURAL 1 83
This is denied, at least in large part, by the school of Ritschl.
In general, their position is that religious knowledge consists
merely of value-judgments, while other knowledge consists of
existential judgments. That is, knowledge in religion is not
the recognition of wihat is; it is the experience of what is
spiritually helpful : whereas knowledge elsewhere is real knowl
edge because composed of affirmations ascertained to corres
pond to actuality. Hence, this school claims to be independ
ent of philosophy and denies the legitimacy of natural theology.
Religion is wholly an affair of the heart. Science is wholly a
matter of the head. The two spheres are distinct and exclu
sive. As Flint says, " no recognition of any revelation of God
is granted except that in Scripture, and only there in so far as
there is the revelation of God in Christ. Theology is repre
sented to be incapable of attaining to any theoretic knowledge
of God, and to have to do only with what God is felt to be in
the religious experience of the Christian. That is to say, it is
described as having for its task to set forth regarding God,
not theoretical but practical judgments, — not affirmations
which really apply to God in himself but affirmations which tell
us what he is worth to us — that is, value-judgments, which,
although they in no way express what God really is, may en
able us to overcome the evil in the world and to lead a Christian
life." 58 Thus this position, though it may not call itself agnos
ticism, is such. It would banish knowledge from religion and
would reduce it to an affair of feeling only.
It may be refuted on the following grounds :
1. Its pretension to independence of philosophy and its con
sequent denial of natural theology are inconsistent in the ex
treme. It is on nothing but an unsound philosophy that this
pretension bases itself. " It rests wholly on agnosticism as to
reason and on the Kantian reduction of religion to a mode of
representing the moral ideal. It assumes that Kants' philo
sophy as modified in certain respects by Lotze is the basis of
theology." This, however, is an enormous assumption; it is
an assumption wholly in the sphere of philosophy; and, last
but not least, the epistemology assumed is wrong.
58 Agnosticism, pp. 593, 594-

1 84 THE SUPERNATURAL
2. The school that we are examining proceeds on a false
psychology. It presupposes that what are called man's different
natures can operate in independence of each other. Hence,
the religious and the theoretic spheres can be kept apart, and
so a doctrine can have high religious value even though it have
no foundation in objective fact. The truth, however, is that
man's natures do not operate independently. They are not
even separate themselves. Man's spiritual being is one and
indivisible. It does not have even different powers. Its so-
called faculties are but so many functions of one power, and
these functions invariably involve each other. Intellect and
will, for example, cannot be divorced, and thus the religious
and theoretic spheres cannot be exclusive. That they could
be, man would have to be other than he is.
3. The place assigned by this school to judgments of value
is destructive of their value. That they have an important
place in religion is not to be denied. Religion is animated by a
practical motive. It does prize truth according to its effect
on the heart. Further, religious judgment includes an element
of ethical decision. It is he who wills to do the will of God
who knows the doctrine. Finally, only the religious man can
appreciate spiritual truth; for it is "spiritually judged". In
these ways religious judgment does differ from pure intellect
ual or theoretic judgment, as, for example, in geometrical
demonstration. The element of value does enter into the for
mer. In a true sense the head depends on the heart. ' No
man can call Jesus Lord but by the Holy Ghost.' All this,
however, implies that the judgment of value rests on a theo
retic judgment; and not vice versa, as Kaftan holds and as
Ritschl would seem to mean. The spiritual helpfulness of a
doctrine depends on its truth ; its truth is not proven by its ap
parent helpfulness. The deity of Christ is a precious doctrine,
because it is the interpretation of a fact ; and it would lose all
its preciousness, if his body were still lying dead in a Syrian
grave. The position that we would establish as to the manifestation
of the Supernatural is denied again by the avowed agnostics.
They admit, and many of them strongly insist on, the objective

THE SUPERNATURAL 185
reality of the Supernatural; but they hold yet more tenaciously
that it is unknown and even that it must be unknowable. For
example, Mansel, though he believes firmly in the reality
of the Infinite and Absolute, denies that it can be present to
us in consciousness; Max Muller, though he finds the princi
ple of religion in the consciousness of the Infinite, holds that
we are conscious of it only as the " Beyond ", as the mere
negative of the finite, and so, of course, that we cannot know
it; and Spencer, though he claims that we are conscious of the
Infinite and Absolute as the positive basis of all our conscious
ness of the finite and relative, nevertheless, insists that we are
conscious of this positive basis as without limits and thus as
unknown and unknowable.
This theory whose chief forms in its distinctly religious
reference have just been indicated is, generally speaking,
exposed to the following objections :
1. It proceeds on a false theory of the nature of knowledge.
This is, that to know anything we must know it in its essence
and be able to define it itself. This, however, cannot be a
true theory of knowledge. If it were, there could be no knowl
edge. Not even a blade of grass do we know absolutely;
that is, in its essence and apart from its relations. More
over, we often know certainly what we cannot define at all.
You can be sure of your friend's handwriting, though you
cannot give the marks by which it is distinguished from that of
others. In short, knowledge may be real, though it is neither
absolute nor definite. You can know something, though you
do not know anything fully or exactly.
2. The denial that the Supernatural can so manifest itself
as to be known by us proceeds on a false theory of the con
dition of knowledge. This condition is the identity of the sub
ject knowing with the object known. " Quantum sumus sci-
mus " and " Simile simili cognoscitur ". Hence, to know the
Supernatural, we must be ourselves supernatural. While, how
ever, in order to knowledge, there must be a kinship between
subject and object, this is far from being, and, indeed, differs
radically from, the identity claimed. We know the external
world, though we are not the external world. Were the theory
true, self-knowledge would be the only knowledge.

1 86 THE SUPERNATURAL
3. The denial that we are considering proceeds on a false
view of the Infinite and Absolute. It is regarded as the all
and the unrelated. Hence, as to know is to distinguish what
is known from other things, the Infinite cannot be known ; for
if it could be so distinguished from other things as to be known,
or even from the knowing self, it would no longer be the In
finite that was known : and as we can know only what has come
into relation to us so as to be known, it would no more be the
Absolute. That is, the Infinite and the Absolute, as regards
the capacity for being known, is like a vase which is bound to
go to pieces as you take hold of it.
As we saw, however, when we were considering just what
was the question with regard to the reality of the Supernatural,
there need not be, there is not, and there could not be, any such
Infinite and Absolute as agnosticism presupposes. That is, the
conception of the Supernatural on which it is founded is con
tradictory. Nor is this all. As should now be evident and as
Flint has taught us in his classic work on Agnosticism, agnosti
cism as to the Supernatural must, unless inconsistent, become
agnosticism as to everything ; and " agnosticism as to every
thing, whether in the form of doubt or of disbelief, involves a
fatal contradiction. In a word, together or singly, these
objections are a reductio ad absurdum of the agnostic position;
and thus, though they do not prove the reality of the mani
festation of the Supernatural and of our knowledge of it, they
do open the way for the following proof :
1. There is no a priori impossibility that the Supernatural
should manifest itself and should be known as manifested.
Admitting that only its bare existence has been established,
it does not follow that no more can be established. Nay, that
a thing is often raises a presumption or expectation that what
it is will appear. This presumption or expectation is attested
by the spirit of discovery which it produces. Nor may it be
urged that all this applies only to the sphere of the natural.
That is to beg the question. It is to assert the thing to be
established. 2. The reality of the Supernatural cannot be known and
its nature not be known also to some degree at the same time.

THE SUPERNATURAL 1 87
There is not anything the existence of which can be appre
hended without an idea of at least some of its qualities. It
is by means of the acts or the noises or the peculiarities in
appearance of a strange beast that men in the first instance
become aware of its existence, and there is no other way in
which they can be assured of it. Knowledge that it is in
volves by a necessary law of thought some knowledge of what
it is; and to this extent the establishment of its reality estab
lishes also that it has, in so far forth, manifested itself and this
manifestation been recognized. It cannot be otherwise in the
case of the Supernatural. Because the law just referred to is
a necessary law of thought as such, if we know the reality of
the Supernatural, we know that to some degree it has mani
fested itself, and been recognized. We cannot know that it
exists and not know something of what it is. Thus the mere
question whether the Supernatural can manifest itself implies
that it has done so sufficiently to be apprehended. But this
raises the presumption at once, and it is from this presumption
that our inquiry should proceed, the presumption that this
manifestation of the Supernatural and the consequent recog
nition of it by us will keep on. Other things being equal, the
antecedent likelihood is that what has been going on will con
tinue. 3. In knowing the existence of the Supernatural we know it
as that whose nature it is to manifest itself. For example, as
we have seen, we know the Supernatural as Infinite Being
and so as the ground of all finite being. Now it is not claimed
that the former simply as being tends to manifest itself in the
latter. In order to this, there must be, in addition to Infinite
Being, a principle of movement, an act. Still, Infinite Being
looks toward finite being, and thus toward manifestation in
it, so far as this, that it can be the ground and condition
of it. Again, as we have also seen, we know the Supernatural
as the First Cause. It is not only Infinite Being. It is also a
principle of movement ; it has the power to act, to create. Now
we do not hold that the First Cause must produce an effect
and so manifest itself in it. The First Cause need not be,
as we might show that it could not be, one that acts neces-

1 88 THE SUPERNATURAL
sarily. Yet, when there is nothing to the contrary, the pre
sumption in the case of power is that it will exert and so mani
fest itself. Indeed, ordinarily, the power of self-manifestation
implies a tendency toward it. Once more, as we have seen,
too, we know the Supernatural as the Infinite Agent of the
infinite acts that the universe, because finite, presupposes and
thus itself evidences ; namely, creation, preservation and gov
ernment. It must be, then, that in these acts, and so in their
results, the Supernatural itself is really manifested. It is as
impossible that an agent should not express himself in his acts
as that these should not involve an agent. They are the agent
himself in exercise. In simply knowing the existence of the
Supernatural, then, we know it as that whose very nature it is
to manifest itself. In the Supernatural as Infinite Being we
have the necessary ground of the finite and to this extent the
possibility of its manifestation in it. In the Supernatural as the
First Cause we have the power of self -manifestation and in so
far forth a tendency toward it. In the Supernatural as the
Infinite Agent of the infinite acts that the finite universe
implies, we have the actual manifestation of the Supernatural
itself. 4. The same result may be reached, and just as conclusively,
from the standpoint of the natural and phenomenal. This
is the effect of the Supernatural. As we have already shown,
we cannot really think otherwise, and it cannot be otherwise.
See, however, what this law of cause and effect involves. The
existence of the universe as an effect not only demands the ex
istence of the Supernatural as its cause; but inasmuch as a
cause must express itself more or less in its effect, it implies
that the universe, though a partial, cannot but be a real mani
festation of the Supernatural. In the natural, therefore, the
Supernatural must appear and, in so far forth, must be known
by us. We could no more avoid this than we could avoid
seeing and knowing the artist in his work. This is true on any
rational theory of the universe. Both the possibility and the
fact of such a manifestation of the Supernatural must be
conceded by all who hold to evolution as much as by those
who believe in creation. Evolution — of what? Evolution in

THE SUPERNATURAL 1 89
the abstract is only a name for a possibility, a term descriptive
of a process. There must be a Supernatural Something, an
Absolute Reality; if the possibility named is to become actual
ity, if the process conceived is to operate. Darwin demands
living germ cells if he is to work his development hypothesis.
Huxley dispenses with life, but cannot get along without pro
toplasm. Lucretius does not require this, but even he must
have atoms. Whence, however, the atom? Science says that
it is evidently " a manufactured article." It, therefore, be
cause an effect must be a manifestation of its cause. Whence
protoplasm with its assumed power of generating life? Yet
more, as being a more pregnant effect, must this be a more
pregnant manifestation of its cause. Whence life ? This is the
highest and richest of all. Must not, then, its successive evo
lutions be a continuous as well as the fullest manifestation
thus far considered of the First Cause and so of the Super
natural ? As H. B. Smith says, " This cuts the roots
of the theory that the Supernatural is simply something in
itself inscrutable, remote, isolated — an unintelligible abstrac
tion — for we have obtained not only the Supernatural itself, as
a datum of reason and philosophy, but also the Supernatural
manifested, as necessary to any evolution, development, prog
ress, or construction of a universal system." 59 That is, the
manifestation of the Supernatural in nature and our conse
quent knowledge of it is as much a necessity of thought and
so as truly a reality as we have seen to be its objective existence.
' The heavens must declare its glory '. ' The firmament must
show its handiwork '. ' Its everlasting power and divinity
must be understood from the things that are made '. ' The
spirit of man must be the candle of the Lord '. ' Christians
must be epistles of Christ known and read of all men '. ' The
church must make known the manifold wisdom of God.' ' The
angels, since they are his ministers, must reveal his will.' In
a word, all nature, both spiritual and physical, must manifest
the Supernatural ; and in all the universe we should discern the
manifestation. In this nature finds the sufficient reason for its
being, the ultimate condition of its existence. Throughout, as
59 Apologetics, p. 41.

190

THE SUPERNATURAL

regards both its origination and its continuance, the workman
ship of the Supernatural, it could not be otherwise. What,
then, does nature show the Supernatural to be ?
V.
The Personality of the Supernatural.
In affirming this we deny, on the one hand, the rude and
antisupernaturalistic materialism of Lucretius, which would
account for all things by means of atoms and motion ; modern
materialism, which for atoms and motion would substitute
physical force; idealistic materialism or monism, as that of
Tyndall, Huxley and Mill, which in place of matter and force
would put an inscrutable mode of being whence they both
come ; East Indian pantheism, which regards the Supernatural
as spirit abstract and undefined ; materialistic pantheism, as that
of Spinoza, whose Supernatural is the absolute substance;
idealistic pantheism, as that of Hegel, which would conceive the
Supernatural as thought, with logical law, and as developing
by logical law the universe ; the theory of the pessimistic phil
osophy of Schopenhauer, that the basis and cause of the uni
verse is unconscious will : and, on the other hand, the position
of the " cosmic philosophy " of Spencer and Fiske, that the
Supernatural is " superpersonal "; that is, it is infinitely higher
than personal, and so is unknown and must be unknowable.
In opposition to all these views, on the criticism of which our
limits forbid us to enter, we hold that the Supernatural is an
identical, self-conscious, self -determining being; such as we
are, a person, only infinite and absolute and unconditioned.
This we would vindicate as follows :
1. The Supernatural can be personal. This is denied by
many, notably by Spinoza and by Fichte in his earlier teaching,
on the ground that personality is necessarily relative. The es
sence of it, it is said, is that it implies another outside of itself.
Hence, the Supernatural, because the Absolute, cannot be
personal. The condition of absoluteness is freedom from con
ditions of every kind. This position, however, confounds
personality with individuality. The latter is a mere relation.

THE SUPERNATURAL 191
It consists in separation from other things. It could not
be if there were not other things. That is, its existence depends
on its relation to other things. But personality is not a mere
relation. As says H. B. Smith, "It is a point of fixed
being."00 Its essence is, not that it is marked off from other
persons or things; for were this so, beasts would be persons.
Its essence is self-consciousness and self-determination; for it
is this internal distinguishing of the self as object from the
self as subject, not any relation to other selves, or things, that
constitutes personality. The objection, therefore, falls. Nec
essary relativity is inconsistent with the Absolute, but person
ality as such is entirely self-dependent and so altogether inde
pendent. As it appears in us it is relative. This relativity,
however, is the result of our finiteness. We are persons, not
because of it, but in spite of it. Indeed, the perfection of per
sonality is possible only in the case of the Infinite and Absolute.
Nor may it be replied, that, though self -consciousness and
self-determination do not involve any external relativity, they
are determinations; that, according to the Spinozan maxim,
" every determination is a negation ; " and that on this ground,
consequently, if on no other, the Supernatural or the Infinite
and Absolute cannot be personal. This is to confound the laws
of being with those of thought. That all determination or
definition limits is true of mathematical quantities and of logi
cal general notions, but it is not true of concrete beings. To
hold that even Spinoza meant this is to misconceive him. As
to beings, the opposite is true. As Harris says, " The more
determined or specific a being is by the increase or multipli
cation of its powers, the greater and not the less or more
limited, is the being." 61 Indeed, being without any determina
tions and specifications becomes an abstraction. We can con
ceive of it as real, and so as being rather than thought, only
as we conceive of it as constituted in this way or in that. Thus
do the laws of thought itself themselves witness to the differ
ence between themselves and the laws of being. Hence, as we
have all along insisted that we must do, we can be true to the
80 Introduction to Christian Theology, p. 97.
81 The Philosophical Basis of Theism, p. 29.

I92 THE SUPERNATURAL
necessity in the former only as we recognize this difference.
Indeed, as Lindsay puts it, " It is precisely in denying the
Supernatural the power of being personal that his infinitude is
parted with. This self-limitation of the Infinite — the great
renunciation — is yet really its self-assertion and its self-revela
tion."62 Evidently, therefore, the Supernatural can be per
sonal : at least without some such determination as that of
personality the Supernatural could not be.
2. As there must be a real Supernatural, so he must be at
least personal. Three considerations will evince this clearly:
As much as this is involved in the nature of a first-cause.
Whatever the Supernatural may not be, it is, as we have ob
served, of his essence that He should be the First-Cause. It is
not more certain that there must be such a cause than it is cer
tain that this cause cannot but be supernatural. " Now we
have a real, though limited, experience of such a cause within
ourselves, and there alone." We are conscious of being able
to originate action, to initiate events, even in a measure to mod
ify the processes of nature, in virtue of our free will or power
of self-determination. That is, the only finite first-cause, if
we may so speak, known to us is found to be such because of its
personality. Its personality is what makes it, in spite of its
limitations, a kind of first-cause. Would it, then, be other
wise were all restrictions to be removed? Nay, could it be so?
It is of the essence of a first-cause that it should be personal.
It could not originate action were it not self-determining.
Unless, then, it continue such, it must cease to be a first-cause.
And this will be true whether it be finite and natural or infinite
and supernatural. The only difference between the two cases
will be, not that in the latter it will not be personal, but that
it will be the perfection of personality. This is so because even
the transition from finite to infinite, while it must involve the
perfection of what is under consideration, cannot change its
essence and not destroy it itself. Hence, unless the Super
natural is to cease to be the First Cause, he must be at least
a person as we are.
This follows as surely from the law of " causal resem-
82 Recent Advances in the Theistic Philosophy of Religion, p. 315.

THE SUPERNATURAL 193
blance ". The gist of this law is that nothing can be in the
effect which is not potentially in the cause; or that the cause
must always be, in its nature and possibilities, superior to its
effect. Thus, while we can believe that a man has made a
machine, we could not believe that any mere machine could
make a man. In the former case the cause would transcend
the effect. In the latter the cause would fall below the effect,
and for this reason would appear to be and would be impos
sible as its cause. Now the universe contains the personal.
The personal or man is that in it which is highest. It is that
toward the development of which all tends. In short, the per
sonal is both the crown and the goal of the world considered
by itself. As the evolutionists say, ' the personal is the meaning
of the whole process of evolution.' How, then, can the First-
Cause of the world, the originator, sustainer and director even
of evolution itself, be himself less than personal? As the in
spired psalmist says, " He that planted the ear, shall he not
hear? " " He that formed the eye, shall he not see? " (Psalm
xciv. 9) ; so consistent thought must decide that the source of
that self-consciousness and self-determination in which creation
culminates cannot himself be less than personal. If he were,
the law of causal resemblance, elsewhere universally true,
would break down precisely where, unless the world were a
chaos, it should hold most strictly.
The law of universal development just referred to necessi
tates the same conclusion. In the words of Lindsay, " Do we
not see the creation struggling toward personality, and mount
ing step by step through the preliminary stages of the vegetable
and animal world, until in man it actually attains to individ
ual personality, and becomes a self-conscious mind? Whence
this universal tendency of all that lives toward personality,
if it be not the law of the world; and whence this law, if the
Principle of the world is an impersonal one? And if person
ality constitutes the preeminence of man over the inferior cre
ation, can this preeminence be wanting in the highest Being of
all? Can God, the most perfect Being imaginable, be devoid
of personality the most perfect form of being?"63 May it
u Recent Advances in the Theistic Philosophy of Religion, p. 329.

194

THE SUPERNATURAL

not be, however, it is replied, that the Supernatural is superper-
sonal? Hence, it should be observed, that,
3. The Supernatural, though he must be at least personal,
cannot be higher than personal. This does not mean that man
is the measure of the Supernatural. Because infinite and abso
lute, as we have already seen, the Supernatural must always
be unknown and unknowable to even the highest form of the
natural. Spinoza himself, though holding that the infinite
Substance has infinite modes, teaches that we know but two
of them, thought and extension. Even with respect to the es
sentials of personality the Supernatural Person must be in
finitely higher than ourselves and so quite different from us.
What self-consciousness is that has absolutely no limitations,
what self-determination is that has absolutely no restrictions,
we cannot imagine and we never shall be able to imagine. To
the natural, even in the respects in which they are most akin,
the Supernatural is the eternal as well as the supreme mystery.
The very love of Christ, for example, " passes knowledge ".
That the Supernatural cannot be higher than personal, how
ever, does mean, on the one hand, that he cannot be higher in
the sense of less determinate. The reason is that in the case
of being, as we have already observed, highness is directly
proportional to determinateness. Absurdity is inherent in the
position of those thinkers who, as Spencer and Fiske, in postu
lating that the Supernatural, though personally non-existent,
may yet be higher than personality, as Lindsay says, " place
being plus intelligence below that which has it not, and who,
in spite of the self-evidencing power of the theistic idea,
assign that which is self-conscious and self-determining to a
lower platform than that which blindly moves on to its end." 64
In a word, the Supernatural cannot be supernatural in the sense
of impersonal, because the supernatural in this sense is really
the sub-personal.
Nor, on the other hand, can the Supernatural be more deter
minate than personal, and so, in this way, if not in that just
noticed, be superpersonal. Personality is of all possible modes
of existence the highest. It is not simply the highest known
84 Recent Advances in the Theistic Philosophy of Religion, p. 271.

THE SUPERNATURAL 195
to us, it is not merely the highest of which we can conceive ; it
reveals itself as finished, perfect, ultimate. It seems to say, not
only has development never been traced beyond me, but devel
opment ends, and must end, with me. There may be higher
and lower kinds of personality, but no other mode of being can
be so high as personality. If the ground of this assertion be
demanded, the one but the sufficient answer is that it is an ulti
mate truth. Just as in the sphere of thought reason reveals
itself as alone because ultimate, so that we are sure that in
thought there is not and could not be anything higher than
reason; so in the sphere of being personality reveals itself as
alone because ultimate, so that we are sure that in being there
is not and could not be anything higher than personality. In
self-consciousness and self-determination, that is, in person
ality, we meet determination which is as evidently ultimate as
it is self-evident. Even the evolutionists would seem at least
to have felt this. If not, why does Fiske say that the moral
sense in which the reality of personality comes out most clear
ly — the moral sense is " the last and noblest product of evo
lution which we can ever know." 65 Thus the existence of the
Supernatural and his manifestation in and through the universe
of which he is the creator and preserver and governor are
not more truly necessities of thought and so realities than is
his personality. Not to admit this is to give the lie to our own
personality, and, consequently, to all else; for it is in our in
tense consciousness of our own personality that the conception
and conviction of reality arise. In a word, if there be reality,
we must be real; if we are real, the Supernatural whom we
presuppose must be so ; if the Supernatural exists, as he cannot
be less than self-conscious and self-determining, so he cannot
be more. Such, that is, personal being is the apex and the
foundation of all being. This is the last and highest testimony
of our own personality, the most evidently real of all realities.
85 Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy, Vol ii. p. 324.

196 THE SUPERNATURAL

VI.
The Personal or Immediate Manifestation of the
Supernatural.
By this we mean, such a manifestation as would be such a
direct communication from the Supernatural as it is claimed
that the Decalogue is ; such supernatural works as the miracles,
if they were wrought, must have been; such a supernatural act
as regeneration, if it be a real act, evidently is; such a super
natural person as Christ could not but have been, if he was, as
he said, both " the Son of God " and " the Son of man." The
characteristic of these manifestations of the Supernatural is
not that they are more truly personal than is his manifesta
tion of himself in and through the universe. No matter how
many instruments a person may use, his action is always
personal. No matter how numerous may be the media
in and through which he reveals himself, his revelation is
always personal. In the cases under consideration, however,
no instruments are employed, no media intervene. God him
self spoke and wrote the words of the Decalogue; God with
his own arm, as it were, wrought the miracles ; God by his own
power alone quickens into newness of life the soul " dead
through trespasses and sins ;" Christ is " the image of the
invisible God ", he reveals him by himself becoming " God
manifest in the flesh." Such supernatural acts as these, then,
are not simply truly personal ; they are only personal : indeed,
they appear conspicuously supernatural just because they are
only personal; though they occur in nature, and though they
need not and should not be conceived as violating or even as
suspending any law of nature, they are so evidently not at all
of nature, they are so manifestly due wholly to wisdom and
power independent of it and superior to it, that they must pro
ceed from the Supernatural Person alone. If they took place,
they cannot but be interventions of his in the ordinary course
of nature. Could they, then, take place ? This is the question
of questions to the Christian. If they could not, Christianity is
a lie. Its most positive and characteristic claim is that it is

THE SUPERNATURAL

197

based on the direct personal intervention of the Supernatural
in the history of the race, in the development of the universe.
As we saw when considering the importance of a true doctrine
of the Supernatural, the New Testament cannot be honestly
interpreted and yield any other teaching than this.
But this is not all. The question just raised is even more
fundamental. Not only Christianity, but all higher religion is
at stake. The reason for this is that the immediate knowledge
of God as the supernatural Person is involved in the very con
ception of religion as based on the self-revelation of a personal
God. The operatives in a factory may sustain a real and a
conscious relation to the manager of it, though he never comes
among them or speaks to them or interposes in the direction
of affairs. He may 'have revealed himself so clearly in the
plan of the factory, in sustaining it in operation, and in the
orders of the foreman whom he has placed over it, that all in it
can and, if rightly disposed, will, discern his wisdom and ac
knowledge his power and respect his authority. It will not,
however, be nearly so natural and easy for them to do this
as it would be if the manager came daily among his people
and listened to them and himself personally took part in the
control of the work; and if his people are not rightly disposed
toward him, it is certain that they will not recognize him as
they should, if there is no personal intervention on his part.
They will lose sight of him himself in the machinery which he
has designed and is operating.
Just so, there might be true religion, did we know of God
only what is clearly seen from " the things that are made."
That " we live and move and have our being in him " ought to
dispose us to " acknowledge him in all our ways ", and the
' earth is so full of the goodness of the Lord ' that it would
seem' that we could not help loving him. All this, however,
though true religion, would be only an undeveloped form of it.
It is a form, too, which, it is certain, would not be attained by
a sinful race. As already implied, not liking to retain God in
their knowledge,' they would look only at his works, and so
these works would in time even hide him himself from them.
In order, therefore, to the higher exercises of religion and to

198 THE SUPERNATURAL
any true exercise of it in the case of sinners, we need to feel,
that God himself is in the midst of us; that he not only acts
through the laws of nature, but independently of them; and
that he can and, on occasion, does, put out his own hand and
solely by his own personal power effect what the forces of
nature though under his direction could not do and what may
even seem to set them aside. In a word, as things are, in
order to the development of religion, we must not only recog
nize the Supernatural as the personal God, but we must rec
ognize him also as only personal or as simply personal ; that is,
as one who, in addition to presiding over nature and working
through it, can and does also manifest himself by interposing
personally in it and by operating independently of it, though
on it and in it. Only thus can we appreciate sufficiently the
reality because the personality of God's revelation to us.
Even the impression of the Supernatural made in the crea
tion, if it is to abide, needs to be deepened by supernatural
interventions in history. Unbelief should not, but does, con
clude that, if the Supernatural manifested himself immediately
and so simply personally only at the beginning, he does not
manifest himself as a person at all, and so did not even then.
This is substantially the position of the whole modern ration
alistic school. Not less truly do belief in a personal God and
in supernatural interventions stand or fall together than belief
in a true creation and in supernatural interventions stand or
fall together. As there can not be true religion save as we
believe that God himself has spoken to us, so we shall not
long or truly believe thus save as we hold to an immediate
knowledge of God as only or simply personal.
The ultimate reason for this is that the self -revelation of a
personal God cannot be authenticated sufficiently as such, un
less it be accompained by supernatural interventions. An effect,
reason dictates, can be assigned to a particular cause only as
it reproduces what is distinctive of that cause. Hence, the
necessary inference is that if the Supernatural Person reveals
himself, the revelation will be, at any rate, at times, both above
nature and in contrast with, if not in opposition to, nature.'
Accordingly, were such a revelation to be throughout natural,
though, as we have seen, necessarily presupposing and thus

THE SUPERNATURAL 199
indirectly revealing the Supernatural, reason would hesitate
to recognize it as really supernatural. Though it would be
such, it could not be certainly discriminated as such. Even,
the cry of a man would seldom be mistaken for that of a
beast : it always has a human quality. Nevertheless, it is only
as it utters itself in speech that we can be altogether sure that
it is a man whom we hear. Just so, the supernatural Person
can, and ordinarily does, confine his manifestations within
natural instrumentalities; but it is only as he breaks away
from these and reveals himself both in contrast with nature
and above it, that is, as only the supernatural Person could —
that his revelation as a whole can be authenticated absolutely
as being what it really is. Thus belief in the personal inter
vention in nature, and so above and in contrast with it, of the
supernatural Person is indispensable to the highest conviction
of the reality of his self-revelation. Without such interven
tions, the latter could not be recognized infallibly.
The proof of these conclusions is the history of religion.
Whenever men have persuaded themselves that they are divine
messengers they have adopted likewise the belief that they are
able to work miracles. Among such in modern times are
Swedenborg and Irving the Scotch preacher. Impostors also,
perceiving that miracles are necessary in order that the human
mind may receive a religion as divine, have invariably claimed
miraculous powers. Such instances recur constantly from the
days of Elymas the Sorcerer down to the Mormon Joseph
Smith. Though, too, the founders of false religions have
not themselves made these pretensions, their followers have
made them for them. Witness the miracles that came to be
attributed to Gotama and to Mohammed by their disciples.
Thus it would appear that men are so constituted that if they
are truly to see God in nature, they must recognize him as
a person who can and, on occasion, does manifest himself im
mediately and in contrast with nature, and that even the
revelation of himself in nature can be sufficiently authenticated
only by such immediately personal and exclusively super
natural interventions. No question, therefore, can be more
important that this, if so important as this. Are such inter
ventions, that is, are miracles possible; and if so, can they

200 THE SUPERNATURAL
be recognized? The very existence of all religion worthy of
the name would seem to be suspended on the answer to this
inquiry. The denials of the possibility of supernatural intervention
in the course of nature may be reduced to one. They all take
their stand, whether positivistic or transcendental, on the po
sition that the course of nature is and must be uniform. If
they do not always hold that what has been is what will be,
they do hold this to be true at least to this extent, that the
order and method of the new will be the same with that of
the old in that everything will still be accomplished through
the forces of nature; there will not be, as there could not be,
the personal intervention of the Supernatural. This hypothe
sis, however, prevalent though it is, is exposed to the follow
ing objections :
I. It may not be decided by a priori considerations. We
can argue for or against the uniformity of nature only from
what nature and the Supernatural have been found to be.
Antecedently, there is as much reason to infer that nature must
not be uniform as that it must be uniform; and that is no
reason. In a word, the question is one of fact; it does not
involve a necessary principle. There is no must in the case.
2. It begs the question. ' It is at any rate an open question
whether the course of nature has been uniform. There is
the best of testimony that it has not been. It is hard to see
how the testimony for the resurrection of Christ, for example,
can be set aside and all testimony not be invalidated.
3. It begs a question to beg which is for these theorists
suicidal. As has just been implied, in doing so they knock the
ground from under their own feet. Whether the course of
nature has been violated or has not been violated, can be
known only from testimony ; there is and can be but negative
testimony, that is, the absence of testimony, that it has not
been; there is the most positive and the best testimony that
it has been. To decide, therefore, that it has not been is
to decide against the testimony, and this is to invalidate the
one possible ground of judgment. It is like appealing to
reason to disprove reason.
5. Nor may it be replied that the very point at issue is

THE SUPERNATURAL 201
whether any testimony can extend to the Supernatural. If
this be so, it follows that we do not know that there have been
supernatural interventions in the course of nature, but it
follows just as surely that we do not know that there have
not been any. The possibility of the personal manifestation
of the Supernatural is left just where it was before.
5. Nor does the objector gain anything, if we concede that
the uniformity of nature never has been interrupted. Were
this so, we might not infer that it never could be. Induction
from individual facts, however numerous or well attested,
cannot give necessary truth. That things have been so and
so does not prove that they will so continue. It is always
possible that there are other facts which, if considered, would
show the possibility, if not the certainty, of change.
6. This will appear more clearly when we remember just
what the uniformity of nature is. It is not a principle; it is
only the name of a mode of action. It does not state why
things are as they are; it states only how they are, or rather
how it is assumed that they have been. It amounts to no
more than this, that the same causes acting under the same
conditions produce the same results. This is the only princi
ple, the only ultimate truth, the only immutable law, in the
case. What is there in this to hinder at any time the personal
intervention of the Supernatural? There is nothing in this
principle to forbid the introduction of a new cause in the course
of nature. All that it secures is that nature shall be uniform
if no new cause be introduced. So far as the so-called prin
ciple of the uniformity of nature is concerned, the Super
natural may come in at any point, and when he does his strictly
personal manifestation must ensue.
7. The modern doctrine of the conservation and the cor
relation of energy, so far from opposing, tends to confirm this
position. Indeed, this doctrine implies the constant manifes
tation in nature of the Supernatural himself. The sum of
force in the universe can continue the same only because the.
Infinite and Absolute Force is " ever reenforcing finite waste,
change and decay." As Herschel has pointed out, " vital
force " does pass away. When, for example, a beast dies, his
chemical elements appear in other forms, but what becomes of

202 THE SUPERNATURAL
his life, his soul? Thus vital force, at least, would run out,
if the Supernatural did not intervene to supply it. Even the
modern " physicist proper declares that the laws of matter
alone will not explain life." 66 In a word, the very uniformity
of nature depends on the coming of the Supernatural into
nature. It has been planned with reference to it. So far,
then, from the objection based on the uniformity of nature,
disproving the personal intervention of the Supernatural in
nature, it would seem to suggest and demand the proof of its
possibility and even probability.
The following mere outline of this proof is the utmost- that
our limits will permit.
i. The abstract possibility of supernatural interventions in
the course of nature cannot be rationally questioned. Sir
Oliver Lodge is reported to have said lately : " The possi
bility of what we call miracles has been hastily and wrongly
denied. They are not necessarily more impossible or lawless
than the interference of a human being would seem to a
colony of ants. They should be judged by historical evidence
and literary criticism." Indeed, the most consistent skeptics
and agnostics have not denied them. J. S. Mill was ready to
admit the Supernatural, if it could be found. Matthew Ar
nold, though he held that with the progress of science all
miracles would be explained away, did not regard them incon
ceivable. Even Hume, though he was the author of the fa
mous objection that no amount of testimony could prove a
miracle, again and again allows its abstract possibility.67 Be
yond this, it could easily be shown that men generally and,
as it would seem, naturally believe that there are such inter
ventions. In a word, if the bare existence of the Supernatural
be admitted, his intervention in nature must be possible a
priori. Otherwise, he would not be the Supernatural.
2. This possibility becomes much clearer in view of the fact
that the Supernatural, as we have already shown, is a person
and is constantly acting in and through nature. This granted,
no objection can be raised to strictly personal action on his
68 Ward's Naturalism and Agnosticism, vol. ii, p. vi.
"Essays, ii, pp. 131, 132, Ed. ed., 1788.

THE SUPERNATURAL 203
part. As Mozley says, " The primary difficulty of philosophy
relating to Deity is action at all. ... If action is con
ceded at all there is no difficulty about miraculous action." 68
A being who can use tools can certainly work with his own
hands. 3. It is probable that the Supernatural will choose to do so.
This follows from the fact that he is a person. It is charac
teristic of a person, not only to manifest himself in action,
but also in strictly personal action. We see this in our own
case. It does not satisfy us to hold intercourse with others
by proxy alone. We wish to speak to them ourselves face to
face. It does not develop us to do nothing but tend a machine.
Unless there is room for handicraft, production will be at the
cost of manhood. Hence, it is only to be expected, that the
Supernatural would manifest himself in a strictly personal
way ; that he would speak to us ; that he would act directly on
us; that he would do something with his own hand alone in
the course of nature; that he would even himself come and
dwell among us, at least for a time, as a man with men. Were
the Supernatural Person not to do something of this kind, we
could scarcely conceive of him as the Supernatural Person.
So far as we know, a person will certainly choose to act thus.
4. This conclusion is much strengthened by the consider
ation that nature would seem to have been constituted with a
view to such action by the Supernatural Person. As Godet
says, " Nature is from, by, and for spirit " ;69 and, though, as
we have seen, the Supernatural and the spiritual are not identi
cal, yet the Supernatural, because the Person, must also be the
Spirit. That is, as is involved in Godet's statement and as
this paper has tried to show, the Supernatural must be behind
nature; the Supernatural must uphold nature; the Super
natural must be the end of nature: that all this should be so
is the necessity of thought. This, however, implies that na
ture has been so arranged as to presuppose the personal inter
vention of the Supernatural. Otherwise, it would fetter him;
and depending on him and existing for him, as it does, that
it should fetter him is inconceivable.
88 On Miracles, p. 84.
89 The Defense of the Christian Faith, p. 127.

204 THE SUPERNATURAL
5. But we are not left to inferences like the above, trust
worthy though these could be shown to be. We know that the
Supernatural has acted in a purely personal manner. All
historic time, whether of the heavens or of the earth, of the
earth or of man, must have begun with such an act. Get rid
of all miracles, if you please; admit only the uniform sequence
of natural phenomena, if you will : and the great miracle of
creation remains on any natural theory of the universe, evo
lutionary or not; and creation is an absolutely personal act.
It must have taken place; the uniformity of nature, if nothing
else, is the demonstration of that : and it could have taken
place only by the immediate and so personal action of the
Supernatural; for before the creation there was nothing in
which and through which he could act. Whether, therefore,
the Supernatural has so acted again or does so act to-day is
for us candidly to inquire. His nature as a person renders it
probable that he will ; and the fact that he must have done so
once, that is, at the creation, increases this probability.
6. The progressive development of religion is inexplicable
unless the Supernatural does continue so to manifest himself.
Religion, at least in all its higher forms, presupposes, not only
the possibility or even the probability, but the fact of such
personal manifestations of the Supernatural. It believes in
communion with God himself. Were the reality of that to be
disproved, its life would be destroyed. If God did not make
himself known to those who are in sympathy with him save as
the " heavens declare his glory and the firmament showeth his
handiwork," if he could not himself dwell in us as " a prin
ciple of a new and a divine life " ; the power of such re
ligion as tends to persist as man develops would be gone.
Can it be, then, that such personal manifestation of the
Supernatural is not real? Can it be that religion is only the
most solemn of all delusions? If so, there is no mystery so-
great as that of its persistence. Nothing has been able to
overthrow it, yet it itself rests on nothing.
7. This conclusion is much strengthened by the fact that
the course of human development, and specially of human
religious development, has been interrupted and perverted by
sin. Hence, though the normal religious needs of men did

THE SUPERNATURAL 205
not demand, as we have just seen that they do demand, the
personal intervention of God in human life and history, his
abnormal needs brought about by the entrance of sin would so
require. Thus, because sin has marred the workmanship of
God in physical nature and has defaced his image in the hu
man soul and has deflected his development of the race, the
revelation of the Supernatural in and through the natural is
far from being as extensive as or what otherwise it would
have been. Again, because of the noetic efforts of sin we
can not discern fully or interpret truly even the partial and
perverted revelation of the Supernatural which the natural
still affords. Once more, and as what is most important, sin
makes necessary the revelation of a new kind of knowledge,
of that with regard to God which nature could by no possibility
reveal. Nature can reveal only the essential attributes of
God, only what he must be and, consequently, must require be
cause he is God; but what guilty sinners need to know is his
grace and how it can be obtained, that is, the free purpose of
his heart, and this can be known only as he himself shall di
rectly declare it. Therefore, even were we to allow that the
personal intervention of the Supernatural in the natural would
be unlikely, the world continuing to develop along its original
and God-laid lines; the presumption would all be the other
way, the world having been deflected from its first and true
line of development. In a word, to quote B. B. Warfield,
" Extraordinary exigencies (we speak as a man) are the suf
ficient explanation of extraordinary expedients."
8. Must not, then, directly and exclusively supernatural
works, such as we designate miracles, be expected, both to call
attention to the messengers bringing the good tidings of the
grace of God and to authenticate them as his ambassadors and
so to attest the truth of their proclamation? Moreover, as
such supernatural interventions, because their purpose is as
just stated, might not be expected when no new revelation was
being made ; so at the epochs characterized and constituted by
such revelations, as, the age of Moses when God revealed him
self as Jehovah the redeeming God, and, above all, in " the
days of the Son of man " when the eternal " Word was made
flesh and dwelt among us " and " fulfilled all righteousness "

206 THE SUPERNATURAL
in our behalf and " died for our sins " and " was raised again
for our justification " and ascended to the right hand of God to
be " head over all things to the church " — at such times and
under such circumstances would it not be the most difficult of
miracles in the sense of wonders, if we did not discern mir
acles? Thus, so far from their being credible only because
they occur in connection with Christianity, Christianity itself
would be incredible because impossible without them. To use
the thought and almost the exact words of Robert Hall, it
could not be supposed that God would give even his Son to
save us and not himself ring his bell for us to hear him.
9. Nor may it be replied that were the Supernatural thus
to intervene directly in nature, such manifestations could not
be recognized as such by us. This overlooks the fact that it is
the manifestation of a person to persons that is under consider
ation. Now personality is known immediately by personality,
and more especially if there be a moral affinity between the
persons. You do not need to see every beast to be sure that
a man is not a beast. You feel at once, and you can not help
feeling, a unique kinship between him and yourself. You
know directly what he is. And somewhat so, it is not neces
sary that you should have surveyed all nature in order to
recognize the Supernatural as supernatural. You feel im
mediately both the unique kinship between him and yourself,
and also the infinite difference. Because he is a person, you
recognize at once his personality and the supernaturalness of
his personality. You know directly what he is, if only a little
of all that he is. Of course, this will depend greatly on the
moral affinity between you and him. A bad man may become
insensible to the supernaturalness of the Supernatural, but he
becomes at the same time unconscious of the personality of
the Supernatural. Both go together; and the former reveals,
and cannot but reveal unmistakably, the latter. Hence, truly to
know the manhood of Christ is to feel him to be "the Son of
God." In a word, as persons we are too much like the Super
natural Person and too conscious of our superiority to all else
than ourselves in nature not to recognize at once his infinite
superiority. In the unique light of the kinship between us
and him we cannot but see his supernaturalness. Thus in

THE SUPERNATURAL 207
every respect is the reality of the strictly personal interven-i
tion of the Supernatural in the natural a real necessity of
thought.

VII.
Conclusion.
What, then, is the net result of the discussion? It is not
that Christianity is thereby established as the supernatural re
ligion. This must still be decided by the appropriate evi
dence. The way, however, has been opened, and the only
way, for the fair consideration of this evidence; and this has
been done in that we have established the reality of the ex
istence of the Supernatural, of his manifestation through na
ture, of his personality, and of the possibility and even prob
ability of his personal intervention in nature. It is true that
no one of these has been in the strict sense demonstrated. But
in the nature of the case this is impossible. Himself the
ground and so proof of everything, there is nothing that can
be the ground and so proof of the Supernatural. Yet as the
building necessarily evidences the foundation on which it
rests; so all nature, and especially that in it which is highest
and surest, namely, reason, demands the reality in the above
respects of the Supernatural. This must be granted or reason
must be stultified. To have shown this is thus both the utmost
that could be shown and in itself enough.

THE ESCHATOLOGICAL ASPECT OF THE
PAULINE CONCEPTION OF
THE SPIRIT
Geerhardus Vos

Emphasis in recent biblico-theological discussion on the eschatological
outlook of the early church. Its influence traced in various as
pects of the Pauline teaching. Abuse of the method and rela
tive warrant for its application. Paul's conception of the Spirit
to be examined as to its eschatological affinities. Eschatological
aspects of the Spirit in the Old Testament. The inter-canonical
development of the doctrine. The Gospels. The early chapters
of Acts. Paul's statements: i) As to the Spirit in connection
with the end; 2.) As to the relation of the Spirit to the exalted
Christ; 3.) As to the semi-eschatological character of the be
liever's state, both objectively and subjectively considered; 4.)
As to the Christian's connection through the Spirit with the
world of heaven; 5.) As to the Spirit's function in revealing the
eschatological content of " wisdom " ; 6) As to the Spirit in op
position to evil spirits. Inferences drawn from the discussion :
The eschatological significance of the Spirit 1) throws light on
Paul's conception of the uniformly pneumatic character of the
Christian life at every point; 2) proves the non-availability of
the Spirit for explaining the personal constitution of the preex-
istent Christ; 3) furnishes the most impressive witness for the
supernaturalism of Paul's view of the Christian life.

THE ESCHATOLOGICAL ASPECT OF THE
PAULINE CONCEPTION OF
THE SPIRIT
Like other parts of New Testament Theology the interpre
tation of Paul's teaching has strongly felt the influence of the
emphasis placed in recent discussion upon the eschatological
outlook of the early Church. It is said that, since the person
of the Messiah and his work form already in the Old Testa
ment part of an essentially eschatological program, and since
the acceptance of Jesus as the Messiah was the distinctive fea
ture of the new faith, therefore the whole perspective in which
the content of this religion presented itself to the first Christians
had of necessity to assume eschatological form. They could
not help correlating more closely than we are accustomed to do
their present beliefs and experiences with the final, eternal is
sues of the history of redemption, and interpreting the for
mer in the light of the latter. To an extent we can hardly
appreciate theoretically, far less reproduce in our mode
of feeling, they were conscious of standing at the turning-
point of the ages, of living in the very presence of the world
to come.
It is true that contemporary Judaism had not consistently
kept the Messiah and his work in that central place of the es
chatological stage which the Old Testament assigned to him.
From within the coming aeon he had been removed to its
threshold, and his kingdom relegated to the rank of a mere pro
visional episode in the great drama of the end. This, however,
was due to the inherent dualism of the Jewish eschatology.
Because it was felt that the earthly and the heavenly, the sen
sual and the spiritual, the temporal and the eternal, the political
and the transcendental, the national and the cosmical would not
combine, and yet neither of the two could safely be abandoned,

212 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
the incongruous elements were mechanically forced together in
the scheme of two successive kingdoms, during the former of
which the urgent claims of Israel pertaining to this world
would receive at least a transient satisfaction, whilst in the
latter the higher and broader hopes would find their everlast
ing embodiment. Under this scheme the Messiah and his work
inevitably became associated with the provisional, temporal
order of affairs and ceased to be of significance for the final
state. But no such necessity for keeping apart the Messianic
developments and the consummated state existed for the Chris
tian mind. Here from the outset the emphasis had been
placed on the virtual identity of the blessings and privileges
pertaining to the rule of Christ with the eternal life at the
end. While as a matter of history the opening days of the
Messiah are seen to lie this side of the ultimate world-crisis,
this is much more a chronological than a substantial distinc
tion, the Christ is not kept outside of the future world, nor
is the future world regarded as incapable of projecting itself
into the present life. On the contrary the whole Messianic
hope has become so thoroughly spiritualized as to make it in
distinguishable in essence and character from the final kingdom
of God. Through the appearance of the Messiah, as the great
representative figure of the coming aeon, this new age has be
gun to enter into the actual experience of the believer. He
has been translated into a state, which, while falling short of
the consummated life of eternity, yet may be truly character
ized as semi-eschatological.
In view of this it can cause no surprise, we are told, when
the mind of the New Testament writers in its attempt to grasp
the content of the Christian salvation makes the future the
interpreter of the present, eschatology the norm and example
of soteriological experience. Strange as this movement of
thought seems to us, it must have been to the believers of the
apostolic age quite natural and familiar. The coming of
the Christ had fixed their attention upon the eternal world in
all its absoluteness and fulness and with this in mind they
interpreted everything that through the Christ happened for
them and in them. Even in our Lord's teaching we are in-

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 213
vited to observe the influence of this factor. Not as if the
kingdom proclaimed by him were altogether a kingdom of
the future having no existence in the present. Such a view is
too palpably at variance with his plain teaching to gain ac
ceptance with any except a few " thoroughgoing eschatolo-
gists ". But the firmness with which the two aspects of the
kingdom are held together under the same name and repre
sented as one continuous thing and the absolute newness and
incomparableness which are predicated of the whole as re
gards the Old Testament conditions, all this proves that Jesus
viewed his work as in the most direct manner interlinked
with the life to come, to all intents the beginning of a new
creation. And in the early chapters of the Book of Acts the
same thought is found to color the outlook of the mother-
church, a feature which must be true to the facts, because
it does not quite coincide with Luke's own point of view.
As for Paul, his attitude in regard to this matter was from the
outset determined by the fact, that he views the resurrection
of Christ as the beginning of the general resurrection of the
saints. The general resurrection of the saints being an
eschatological event, indeed constituting together with the
judgment the main content of the eschatological program, it
follows that to Paul in this one point at least the eschatological
course of events had already been set in motion, an integral
piece of " the last things " has become an accomplished fact.
Nor does this remain with Paul an isolated instance of the
principle referred to. We are asked to observe in several other
connections that the Apostle thinks in eschatological terms even
when speaking of present developments. The sending forth
of Christ marks to him the irXrjpco/jia tov XP°V0V (Gal. iv. 4),
a phrase which certainly means more than that the time was
ripe for the introduction of Christ into the world : the fulness
of the time means the end of that aeon and the commencement
of another world-period. As the resurrection of Jesus an
ticipates and secures the general resurrection, so the death of
Christ, usually represented by Paul as an atonement, occas
ionally appears as securing and embodying in advance the
judgment and destruction of the spiritual powers opposed to
God, thus bringing the other great eschatological transaction

214 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
within the scope of the present activity of Christ and the pres
ent experience of believers, Rom. viii. 3; I Cor. ii. 6 (where
notice the present participle KaTapyovpevcov: "who are al
ready coming to nought "). Even the idea of awT^pla " sal
vation ", which is to us predominantly suggestive of our Chris
tian state and experience in this life, is shown to have been
with Paul in its original signification an eschatological idea
denoting deliverance from the wrath to come, salvation in the
judgment, and from this it is believed to have been carried
back into the present life, first of all to express the thought,
that even now the believer through Christ possesses immunity
from the condemnation of the last day.1 The idea of " re
demption ", so closely associated with the death of Christ,
none the less has its eschatological application, although it is
not asserted that this is the older usage, Rom. viii. 2351 Cor.
i. 30; Eph. i. 14, iv. 30. Justification is, of course, to Paul
the basis on which the whole Christian state rests, and in so
far eminently concerns the present, and yet in its finality and
comprehensiveness, covering not merely time but likewise etern
ity, it presents remarkable analogies to the absolute vindication
expected at the end. And the subjective renewal of the be
liever likewise is placed by the Apostle in the light of the
world to come. The icaivh ktio-is spoken of in 2 Cor. v. 17
means the beginning of that world-renewal in which all
eschatology culminates.
Undoubtedly in all this there is some one-sidedness and ex
aggeration. Altogether too much has been made, in calling
attention to the above and other allied facts, of the element of
time, as if the peculiar perspective in these matters could be
1 Cf . the early passages 1 Thess. v. 8, 9 ; 2 Thess. ii. 13, 14, but also in
the later epistles, Rom. v. 9, 10, xiii. 11; Phil. i. 28, iii. 20; 2 Tim. iv. 18.
In all of these the awrripla is eschatological. Paul, however, knows also
of a "being saved" i. e. being in process of salvation, 1 Cor. i. 18, xv. 2;
2 Cor. ii. 15, in all of which the present tense is used, and of a " having
been saved ", Eph. ii. 5 ; 2 Tim. i. 9, where the perfect and aorist occur.
From the original eschatological sense the fact may be explained that
a<bl;eiv, o-orr-qpla stand regularly in Paul for the subjective side of salva
tion, what is dogmatically called the application of redemption. The
eschatological salvation lies in the subjective sphere.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 215
explained from the early Christian belief in the nearness of
the parousia. When this chronological element is unduly
pressed, such monstrosities result as Schweitzer's construction
of the life of Jesus. And the writers who are most enthusias
tic about trying the key of eschatology upon the lock of
every New Testament problem, are also the least apt to hold
back with their conviction, that the eschatological frame of
mind is a hopeless anachronism to the modern consciousness.
Still the abuse made of the theory should not shut our eyes to
whatever elements of truth it may have brought for the first
time into focus. It can be shown, we believe, that the phe
nomena dwelt upon have their root in practical and theoreti
cal premises, which were fixed in the minds of the New
Testament writers altogether independently of the question of
the relative nearness or remoteness of the parousia. In each
case the consideration is not that in point of time, but that in
point of causal nexus and identity of religious privilege, the
present is most closely linked to the life of eternity. Not the
belief in the nearness of the parousia first gave rise to this
consciousness. On the contrary, there is reason to assume that
the expectation of a speedy approach of the end which is re
flected in the New Testament writings sprang, at least in part,
from the consciousness in question. The early church lived to
such an extent in the thought of the world to come, that it
could hardly help hoping it to be near also in point of time.
But this was a mere by-product of a much broader and deeper
state of mind. Thus it happens that the principle to which
the eschatological school has called attention may retain its
validity, even though the present age and the life of eternity
have become to our knowledge much farther separated than
they were to the vision of the early church.
We propose in the following pages to investigate to what
extent Paul's doctrine of the Holy Spirit shows interdepen
dence with his eschatology. At this point better than at any
other will we be able to test the relative warrant for the
eschatological method of approach, and to understand the pe
culiar way in which it can contribute to an adequate apprecia
tion of the fundamental structure of the great Apostle's teach
ing. Another reason for the selection lies in this, that in the

2l6 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
treatment of Paul's pneumatology the new point of view has
thus far been less thoroughly and systematically pursued than
in regard to other aspects of his gospel. One reason for this is
that the theological conception of the Spirit is chiefly regulated
by the closing discourses of our Lord recorded in the Fourth
Gospel. Here the Spirit seems to appear as merely the repre
sentative of Christ during his absence, and therefore confined
in his operation to the intermediate period between the de
parture of Jesus and his return to the disciples. Thus re
stricted the Spirit would have no further significance for the
consummated state, when Christ will resume direct inter
course with his own in a higher form. But even for John
this would be a very one-sided statement of the facts. The
Spirit does not abide temporarily with the disciples but " for
ever" Jno. xiv. 1 6, 17. It is the Spirit's specific function " to
declare the things that are to come," xvi. 13. The Spirit
" guides into all the truth ", and hence is called " the Spirit
of truth ", xv. 26, xvi. 13, and this must be taken in connec
tion with the peculiar Johannine objective conception of
" truth " as designating the transcendental realities of the
heavenly world, that truth of which Jesus is the center and in
carnation, whence also the Spirit in supplying it takes of Jesus'
own, xvi. 14, 15. Indeed so absolutely does the Spirit belong
to the other world, that the kosmos is simply declared incapa
ble of receiving, beholding, and knowing him, xiv. 17. Nor
is the intermediate operation of the Spirit in the present
meant to preclude his eternal significance as a factor in the
life to come. That the latter idea is not more pointedly brought
out in John is due to the thoroughgoing manner in which the
Fourth Gospel eternalizes the present state of the believer, and
emphasizes the identity rather than the difference between the
life now possessed and the life to be inherited hereafter.
Viewed in this light the prominence of the Spirit's activity now
not only does not tell against, but distinctly favors the assump
tion that the Spirit has his proper sphere and a dominating
part in the eschatological world.
But, even if the facts were different as regards the Fourth
Gospel, this would not be decisive for the case of Paul. Our

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 217
Lord in John might have confined himself to pointing out one
particular aspect of the Spirit's work, and Paul might teach the
full-orbed doctrine of the Spirit, so as to bring the two hemi
spheres of his present and his eschatological activity under
equal illumination. In how far this is actually the case we
endeavor to trace in the following survey of Paul's teaching
on the subject.
At the outset it will be well to remark that the connection
of the Spirit with eschatology reaches back into the Old Testa
ment. The fundamental sense of nn is in the Old Testament,
that of air in motion, whilst that of air at rest seems to have
been chiefly associated with the Greek irvev/jia.2 This rendered
the word fit to describe the Spirit on his energizing, active side
and falls in with his ultimate eschatological function, since the
eschatological element in the religion of the Old Testament is
but the supreme expression of its character as a religion of
God's free historical self-assertion, a religion, not of nature-
processes, but of redemption and revelation. Aside from this
the Spirit and eschatology are linked together along four lines
of thought. First we have the idea that the Spirit by special
manifestations of the supernatural, by certain prophetic signs,
heralds the near approach of the future world. Thus in Joel
iii. 1 ff. (ii. 28 ff in English) the outpouring of the Spirit on
all flesh and the subsequent prophesying and related phenomena
are described as all taking place " before the great and terrible
day of Jehovah comes " (verse 4). The idea is not that the
Spirit will be characteristic of the eschatological state, but that
it naturally falls to him to work the premonitions of its coming.
This follows from the parallelism3 between the Spirit-worked
phenomena and the other cosmical signs enumerated. When
this terrible castastrophe draws near, great prophetic excite
ment will lay hold upon men, even as the powers of nature will
become moved in sympathy with what is approaching. It is not
excluded by this that the Spirit will also have his place and role
within the new era itself, but this is not indicated even
indirectly. The Spirit works these signs, not because he
2 Stade, Bill. Theol. d. Alt. Test. I, p. 182, note 3.
8 The two are parallel, not successive.

218 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
stands for the eschatological as such, but because the prophetic
and ecstatic experiences belong to his province.4
In the second place the Spirit is brought into the eschatologi
cal era itself as forming the official equipment of the Messiah.
This is done in a number of passages, Is. xi. 2, xxviii. 5, xiii. 1,
lix. 21 ( ?), lxi. 1. It is to be noticed that the Messiah receives
the Spirit as a permanent possession, and not temporarily as
the prophets ; further that the effects of this endowment lie in
the ethico-religious sphere. By calling this equipment with the
Spirit official we do not mean to imply that it is externally at
tached to the Messiah and does not affect his own subjective re
ligious life, for according to Is. xi. 2 he is not merely a " Spirit
of wisdom and understanding ", of " counsel and might ", but
also a " Spirit of knowledge and fear of Jehovah ". Still
the prophet does not mean to describe what the Spirit is for
the Messiah himself, but what through the Messiah he is for
the people.5
4 Volz, Der Geist Gottes und die verwandten Erscheinungen im Alten
Testament und im anschliessenden Judenthum, 1910 (p. 93), while explain
ing as above, thinks that Acts ii. 16-21 give a different exegesis of the
Joel-passage, because the disciples are represented as permanently pos
sessed of the Spirit. The contrary is true : Peter distinctly quotes the
entire passage, including the words which put the phenomena named be
fore the coming of the day of Jehovah (v. 20), and which assign a
period of some length during which opportunity is given to call upon the
name of Jehovah in order to ultimate salvation in the day of judgment
(v. 21). The Spirit's working is here no less sub-eschatological than in
Joel. That it can be considered a gift of the exalted Jesus (v. 33)
and is perpetuated into the subsequent period does not alter its char
acter. Peter is even more explicit than Joel in regard to the point in
question, for he modifies the quotation by introducing into it the words
"in the last days", a phrase which in the New Testament is everywhere
sub-eschatological. 5 Volz op. cit. p. 87 : The Spirit " attaches less to the person than to
the office, for in connection with the Messiah Judaism is more interested
in what the Messiah accomplishes than in what he is." Volz in this
recent book adheres to his earlier denial of the Isaianic origin of the
great Messianic prophecies, chs. ix. and xi., and finds further support for
this denial in the ethico-religious character of the effects here ascribed to
the Messianic Spirit. This, he thinks, must point to a later date than
Isaiah, because the early prophets do not derive their own equipment
from the Spirit, p. 63. In this last-named opinion Volz sides with

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 219
In the third place the Spirit appears as the source of the
future new life of Israel, especially of the ethico-religious
renewal, also as the pledge of divine favor for the new
Israel, and as the author of a radical transformation of
physical conditions in the eschatological era, and thus becomes
characteristic of the eschatological state itself. To this head
belong the following passages: Is. xxxii. 15-17, xliv. 3, lix.
21 ( ?) ; Ez. xxxvi. 27, xxxvii. 14, xxxix. 29. It will be ob
served that in these passages the sending of the Spirit is ex
pected not from the Messiah but from Jehovah directly, al
though the statements occur in prophecies that know the Mes
siah. The emphasis rests on the initial act as productive of
new conditions ; at the same time the terms used show that the
presence and working of the Spirit are not restricted to the
first introduction of the eschatological state but accompany the
latter in continuance. The land or the nation becomes a per-
menent receptacle of the Spirit.6 An individualizing form the
promise assumes in Ez. xxxvi. 26.
In the fourth place we must take into account that in the
Old Testament Spirit appears as the comprehensive formula
for the transcendental, the supernatural. In all the manifesta
tions of the Spirit a supernatural reality projects itself into
the ordinary experience of man, and thus the sphere whence
these manifestations come can be named after the power to
which they are traced. This is in agreement with the twofold
Giesebrecht, Die Berufsbegabung der A. T.-lichen Propheten, 1897. The
Spirit, he thinks, was for the prophets too materialistic, too unethical, too
miraculous to allow of association with their own ideals. We can here
once more observe how the ethical with the school to which this writer
adheres drives out the supernatural even where the two seem most organi
cally united. What happened formerly to the Messiah now happens to
the Spirit of the Messiah.
8 The figures used for the communication are those of " outpouring '',
15V1, pT, n*U>J> words which imply the imparting of something that
remains; also in: "to give" and "to put into", are found, Ez. xxxvi. 27,
xxxvii. 14. Notice the verbs expressing permanence in Is. xxxii. 16:
" Then justice shall dwell in the wilderness, and righteousness shall abide
in the fruitful field." According to Ez. xxxix. 29 the continuance of the
favor of God is secure to the people, because they have received the
Spirit : " Neither will I hide my face any more from them : for I have
poured out my Spirit upon the house of Israel."

220 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
aspect of " the wind ", which is at the same time a concrete
force, and a supernal element.7 But the Spirit stands for
the supernatural not merely in so far as the latter connotes the
miraculous, but also in so far as it is sovereign over against
man : it " blows where it listeth ". In man the pneumatic
awakes the awe which pertains to the supernatural and its
presence exposes to the same danger. Because of this close
association with the higher world the Spirit appears in closest
conjunction with God, who is the center of that sphere. Every
bearer of the Spirit forms a link of connection between man
and the higher world. In the ecstatic state the Spirit lifts the
prophet into the supernatural sphere which is peculiarly its
own. And even in his ordinary life the prophet is, on account
of his pneumatic character, as it were concentrated upon a
higher world, " he sits alone because of Jehovah's hand ",
Jer. xv. 17. All this, while not eschatological in itself, be
comes of importance for our present purpose, because it is a
recognized principle in New Testament teaching that in one
aspect the eschatological order of things is identical with the
heavenly order of things brought to light. If the Spirit stands
representatively for the latter, he will naturally reappear in the
same capacity as regards the former.
In the apocryphal and pseudepigraphical literature and in
the Rabbinical theology we meet again most of these ideas, and
in one respect note a further development in the direction of
the New Testament doctrine. The Messiah becomes bearer of
the Spirit not merely for the discharge of his own official
functions, but also for the purpose of communicating the
Spirit to others. The Messiah pours out on men the Spirit of
grace, so that henceforth they walk in the ways of God, Test.
Jud. xxiv. 2. In " the Elect ", i. e. the Messiah, " dwells the
Spirit of wisdom, and the Spirit of him who gives under
standing, and the Spirit of instruction and power, and the
Spirit of those who are fallen asleep in righteousness ", En.
xlix. 3. Thus not merely the ethical but also the escha
tological life of the resurrection is derived from the Messiah.
' Cf. Jno. iii. 8, where the wind comes from above, out of the region of
mystery, and also Ez. xxxvii. 9 : " Come from the four winds, O breath."

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 221
It will be observed, however, that the Spirit does not become
any more than in the Old Testament the constituent principle
of the Messiah's Person, he remains as before the Spirit of
official endowment. Cf . further En. lxii. 2 ; Test. Lev. xviii. 7 ;
Test. Jud. xxiv. 2; Or. Sib. iii. 655 ff. ; Ps. Sol. xvii. 37. The
possession of the eschatological Spirit is ascribed to the future
saints also irrespective of Messianic mediation. It is in them a
Spirit of life, En. lxi. y,8 a Spirit of faith, of wisdom, of pa
tience, of mercy, of judgment, of peace and of benevolence,
En. lxi. 1 1 ; a Spirit of eternal life, Or. Sib. iii. 771 ; a Spirit of
holiness pertaining to paradise and named in connection with
the tree of life, Test. Lev. xviii. 1 1 . The Rabbinical Theology
also brings the Spirit in connection with the resurrection:
" Holiness leads to the Holy Spirit, the Holy Spirit leads to
the resurrection ", R. Pinhas b. Ja'ir in B. Aboda s. 20"
(quoted by Volz p. 114).9 In comparison with the Old Testa
ment period this thought of the Spirit's eschatological opera
tion appears more developed and receives greater emphasis, a
feature by some explained from the fact, that in the later
times the present activity of the Spirit was felt to be rare
or entirely in abeyance. What the present did not offer was
expected from the future. None the less the fourth line of
thought is as prominent as in the canonical literature. The im
pression that the period of Judaism was to itself an unpneu-
matic period is apt to be based on the comparison of these
times with the immediately following Spirit-filled days of the
early Christian church, rather than on an estimate of the
period considered in itself. The " wise men " speak of them
selves as " divine ", " immortal ", as the prophets of their age ;
Sap. Sol. vii. 27, viii. 13; Sir. xxiv. 33. The Apocalyptic
writers also feel themselves men of a higher divine rank, in-
3 Sokolowski, Die Begriffe Geist und Leben bei Paulus, 1903, pp. 201 ff. de
nies that pre-Christian Judaism associates the Spirit with the resurrec
tion or the resurrection-life. On the other side cf. Slotemaker de Bruine,
De Eschatologische Voorstellingen in I en II Corinthe, 1894, p. 57 and
Volz, p. 114.
"Hence it is said that the people of the time of the deluge cannot
attain unto the resurrection, because they are deprived of the Spirit (Gen.
vi. 3) Sanh. xi. 3.

222 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
itiated into mysteries hidden even from the angels, capable of
forecasting the future, the authors of inspired writings, En.
xiv. 3, xxxvii. 3, lxxxii. 2, xci. 1, xcii. 1 ; 4 Ezra, xiv. 18 ff.
46; Slav. En. xviii. 8, xxiv. 3. We also read that the pneu
matic state of these men assumed the specific form of a trans
lation into the heavenly sphere10 It is, however, difficult to
determine how much in all this was actual, sincere experience,
and how much was artificially conceived, or part of the tra
ditional imagery of which all these writers availed themselves.
The fact that the Pneuma is most frequently associated with
the charisma of wisdom and general ethical virtue may be an
indication that the specifically supernatural did no longer at
test itself strongly to the consciousness of the period as a pres
ent possession.
In the Gospels the eschatological aspect of the Spirit is not
much in evidence. This, however, is but part of the wider
observation that the Spirit in general remains in the back
ground. It is a striking proof of the high Christology of the
Synoptical writers that they do not refer to the pneumatic
equipment of Jesus in explanation of the supernatural char
acter of his Person, and even make comparatively little of it in
explanation of the supernatural character of his work. Ob
viously the Evangelists (Synoptics as well as John) had a
higher, ontological aspect of the Person of Jesus in mind by
which to account for the supernatural phenomena.11 The
Baptist makes the Holy Spirit the element wherein Jesus will
baptize, and thus the distinctive element of the coming king
dom, Mk. i. 8. (=Mt. iii. 11 =Lk. iii. 16). 12 This implies
10 The later Jewish tradition knows of four Rabbis who penetrated into
Paradise, B. Chagiga I4b-I5b, quoted by Volz p. 118. On the other hand,
cf. the statement Tanchuma 114*: "In this world I impart wisdom
through my Spirit, hereafter, I will myself impart wisdom."
a Cf. Joh. Weiss, Das alteste Evangelium, 1903, pp. 48, 49: "In
Mark the representation that the Spirit is an equipment for Jesus' activity,
receives very little prominence."
12 For the combination iv Tveipan dylo. Kai irvpl in Mt. and Lk. cf.
an interesting parallel in the statement of the Avesta (quoted by Volz p.
176) : " Mazdah will prepare the recompense of blessedness and damna
tion through the holy spirit and fire.'' This favors the interpretation of
the fire as an instrument of judgment.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 223
that the Messiah imparts the Spirit. But in the Fourth Gospel
the Baptist goes one step farther by bringing this baptism to be
conferred by Jesus into connection with the descent of the
Spirit upon Jesus, which is the first intimation in the New
Testament, that the Spirit will rest on the Messiah and the
members of his kingdom, passing over from him to them, i. 33.
As the Spirit of the Messiah the Spirit appears in the accounts
of the birth of Jesus, of the baptism and of the temptation;
Cf. also Mt. iv. 14.13 Our Lord himself refers to the
Spirit in this capacity in the sayings of Mt. xii. 28 (=Lk.
xi. 20) and Lk. iv. 18. Of the Spirit as communicable to
the disciples in the kingdom speak Mt. x. 19 (=Lk. xii. 12)
and Lk. xi. 13. It will be noted that here the giving of the
Spirit is ascribed to God, not to the Messiah. To the closing
chapters in John reference has been made above. The Spirit,
while predominant in this intermediate period, is not confined
to it, and the period, as well as the Spirit's operation in it, are
conceived as semi-eschatological. Both the Father and Jesus
send the Spirit, xiv. 16, 26, xv. 26, xvi. 7, xx. 22. In the
earlier part of the Gospel the Messianic Spirit appears in i. 33,
iii. 34, vi. 63 ; the future Spirit in vii. 39 ; the Spirit as repre
sentative of the supernatural, heavenly world in iii. 3, 5, 6, 8.
We have already seen that in the early Petrine teaching,
traceable in Acts, the outpouring of the Spirit is, in depend
ence on the Joel-prophecy, represented as belonging to " the
last days ", ii. 17.14 It does not, however, follow from this,
that the pneumatic phenomena appeared to the early disciples
in the light of eschatological symptoms exclusively. It is evi
dent from the whole tenor of the narrative that the possession
of the Spirit had a subjective value for the disciples them
selves. It is the sign of acceptance with God, of participation
in the privileges of the Christian state, x. 45, 47. It is there
fore represented as the fulfilment of the promise, which ful
filment Christ after his ascension received from the Father,
13 Cf. also Acts i. 2, iv. 27, x. 38.
11 Luke in his own narrative does not refer to the Spirit from this point
of view, but speaks of him only in connection with the work of missions.
Harnack appeals to this in proof of the accurate historical coloring of the
Petrine speeches by the author of Acts.

224 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
i. 4, ii. 33. 15 It signalizes the present no less than it portends
the future. Still the characteristic feature, that the present
enjoyment of the Spirit's gifts is an anticipation of the world
to come seems to be wanting. The Spirit's work is prophetic
and at the same time symptomatic of salvation, but these two
ideas are not as yet organically connected, the intermediate
thought which would explain both features, viz. that the final
salvation consists in the full endowment with the Spirit, finds
no expression. The problems of the sphere to which the
operations of the Spirit belong and of the personal relation of
the Spirit to the exalted Messiah, can be more satisfactorily
dealt with at a subsequent stage in comparison with the Pauline
teaching on these points.
Coming to Paul himself we notice first that the Apostle ex
plicitly links the Christian possession of the Spirit to the Old
Testament eschatological promise. This dpes not mean that the
presence and operation of the Spirit in the Old Testament are
denied.16 Cf. Acts xxviii. 25; Rom. vii. 14; 1 Cor. x. 3, 4;
Gal. iv. 29 and 1 Tim. iv. 1. These things, however, so far as
they do not relate to the inspiration of the Scriptures, were of a
typical nature and therefore took place in the physical sphere.
The true era of the Spirit's activity was still outstanding. The
two aspects of the Messianic Person, that Kara irvev/Ma as well
as that icara adpica were part of the prophetic promise in the
Holy Scriptures Rom. i. 1-4. The Spirit is an object of
15 Harnack, Die Apostelgeschichte, 1908, p. 109 thinks that in ii. 33 the
promise of the Spirit (not the promised Spirit) is represented as having
been first given to Jesus after his ascension. But i. 4 shows that this is
a mistake, for here Jesus, before the ascension, speaks of "the promise
of the Father " for which they are to wait at Jerusalem. And in the
Gospel xxiv. 49 Jesus says : " I send forth the promise of my Father
upon you ". In all three passages iirayye\la is = " the thing promised ",
cf. Gal. iii. 14 where the same phrase IvayyeXta toS irveiparos occurs in
the same sense. (For the variant reading see below.)
10 2 Cor. iv. 13 will also belong here, if to airb irvevpa be construed with
Karb. rb yeypap.phov i. e. the same Spirit of faith as finds expression in the
word of the Psalmist. But probably Paul means that the same Spirit
is in himself as in the Corinthians, although death works in him, life in
them, v. 12. Cf. Gloel, Der Heilige Geist in der Heilsverkiindigung des
Paulus, 1888, p. 87.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 225
ivayyeXia, Gal. iii. 14; Eph. i 13. While in the latter passage
Paul probably has in mind the prophetic predictions of the out
pouring of the Spirit, the context shows that in Gal. 3 he
thinks of the evXoyia given to Abraham as relating to the
Spirit.17 We first examine the statements which introduce the Spirit
in a strictly eschatological capacity, as connected with the fu
ture state. The Spirit and the resurrection belong together,
and that in a twofold sense. On the one hand the resurrection
as an act is derived from the Spirit, on the other hand the
resurrection-state is represented as in permanence dependent
on the Spirit, as a pneumatic state. In Rom. viii. 11 it is
affirmed that God, Bia rov evoncovvro<; ainov irvevnaros (or to eV-
oikovv avrov irvevfia) iv vpiv shall give life to their mortal
bodies. In verse 10 the body and the Spirit are contrasted : the
former is dead on account of sin, the latter is life on account
of righteousness. Still irvevfia is here not the human
spirit, psychologically conceived; it is the divine Pneuma in
its close identification with the believer's person. Hence in
verse 1 1 there is substituted for the simple to irvev/ia the fuller
phrase " the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead ".
The fact that God is thus designated is of importance for the
argument. What God did for Jesus, he will do for the be
liever also.18. It is presupposed by the Apostle, though not
expressed, that God raised Jesus through the Spirit. Hence
17 So correctly Gloel pp. 96-97 against Meyer who finds the content of
the ei\oyla in justification. But justification is proven from Abraham's
case in so far as it is the indispensable prerequisite of receiving the
eiXoyla . The latter =K\ripovop.la v. 18, and Rom. iv. 13 shows that with
reference to the xKiipovopla justification is a means to an end. Or evKoyla
= fijv vss. 10, 12 and life is based on justification, Rom. i. 17. The
identification of the Spirit and ei\oyla is also found in Is. xliv. 3. If, with
Zahn, on the basis of D. G d g and some patristic authorities, we read in
Gal. iii. 14 eSkoylav rov irveip-aros, we obtain an explicit identification of
the blessing and the Spirit.
13 It should be noticed how significantly Paul varies in this connection
the name of Christ. First he speaks of the raising of Jesus from the dead.
Here the Saviour comes under consideration as to his own Person. Then
he speaks of the raising of Christ Jesus from the dead. Here the Saviour
is considered as the Miessiah in his representative capacity, which furnishes
a guarantee that his resurrection must repeat itself in that of the others.

226 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
the argument from the analogy between Jesus and the believer
is further strengthened by the consideration, that the instru
ment through which God accomplished this in Jesus is al
ready present in the readers. The idea that the Spirit works
instrumentally in the resurrection is thus plainly implied, al
together apart from the question whether the reading Sid c.
Gen. or Sid c. Ace. be preferred in verse 1 10.19 As to nc itself,
when the textus receptus is followed, this part of the verse will
only repeat in more explicit form the thought already implied
in 11°: If the Spirit of God who raised Jesus dwells in you,
then God will make the indwelling Spirit accomplish for you
what he did for Jesus in the latter's resurrection. On the
other reading we may paraphrase as follows : If the Spirit
of God who raised Jesus dwells in you, then God will create
for that Spirit the same bodily organisation, that he created
for him in the resurrection-body of Christ. In the latter case
there is added to the idea of the Spirit as the instrumental
cause of the resurrection-act, the further idea of the Spirit
as the permanent basis of the resurrection-state.
A second passage is Gal. vi. 8. Between verse 7 and verse 8
the figure varies, inasmuch as in the former the correspondence
between the seed and the harvest, in the latter the corre
spondence between the soil and the harvest is affirmed. But
the idea of correspondence is common to both forms of the
figure. The reaping of eternal life follows from the sowing
into the Spirit because the Spirit and eternal life belong to
gether through identity of content, just as the adp%~ soil is
reproduced in the <£f?o/>a-harvest, because the adp% is in
herently and necessarily the source of corruption. The phrase
fan alcovioi; , with Paul (in distinction from John) always
strictly eschatological, proves that the reference is to the day
of judgment. The future deplcrei is chronological. We,
therefore, obtain the thought that the heavenly life, regarded
as a reward for the believer, will essentially consist in pneuma,
which, of course, extends to its bodily form, although it is
"The reading of the textus receptus Sid c. Gen. rests on X , A, C,
Clem. Al. ; the other is supported by B, D, E, F, G, Orig. Iren. Tert. and
the Old-Syriac and Old-Latin versions. Cf. Gloel, pp. 362 ff., who de
cides in favor of the latter.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 227
not confined to this.20 Nothing is here said of the act of the
resurrection and its dependence on the Spirit. It is the harvest
as a product, not the harvesting as a process, of which the
pneumatic character is affirmed.
It might be said, however, that in these two passages the
thought has its point of departure in the soteriological concep
tion of the Spirit as a present factor in the Christian life and
from here moves forward to the future, so that the eschat
ological function of the Spirit would be a doctrinal inference,
rather than something inherent in the nature of the Spirit
itself.21 We therefore turn to a third passage, which clearly
starts from the eschatological end of the line and looks back
ward from this into the present life. This is 2 Cor. v. 5.
Here Paul declares that God has prepared him for the eternal
state in the new heavenly body, as may be seen from this that
he gave him the hppafiwv tov irvevjxaro'; . The appa/3d>v eon-
consists in the Spirit ; " of the Spirit " is epexegetical, just as in
Gal. iii. 14 the eirayyeXia tov irveviJ,aTo<: means the promised
thing consisting in the Spirit.22 But the Spirit possesses this
significance of an appaficov because it is a preliminary instal
ment of what in its fulness will be received hereafter. The an
alogous conception of the a-wapy)) tov irvevpaTos, Rom. viii. 23,
proves this.23 The figure of the appaficbv itself implies this
20 For this aspect of the resurrection cf. 1 Cor. xv. 30-32, where it
appears as a recompense for the KivSweiuv and daily diro0vi\o-Keiv : " what
doth it profit me?" and v. 58: "be ye steadfast. . . forasmuch as ye
know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord."
21 This is the ordinary way of representing the matter. Even Swete in
his recent book The Holy Spirit in the New Testament, 1910, falls into
it, when he puts the question as to the eschatological significance of the
Spirit in this form : " Is the work of the Spirit preparatory only, or is
it permanent, extending to the world to come ? " p. 353. That a move
ment of thought in the opposite direction may also have been familiar to
the Apostle does not seem to suggest itself to the author.
22 In Eph. i. 14 on the other hand the dppap&v rris k\r}povop.tas is the
Spirit which pledges the inheritance, so that the construction is different,
while the thought is the same; the pledge consists in the Spirit and
assures of the inheritance.
23 Another analogous conception, that of the o-ippayls, does not express the
identity of the pledge and the thing pledged, cf. 2 Cor. i. 22; Eph. i. 13,
iv. 30.

228 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
relation no less than that of the airapxr), for it means " money
which in purchases is given as a pledge that the full amount will
be subsequently paid ".24 In this instance, therefore, the Spirit
is viewed as pertaining specifically to the future life, nay as
constituting the substantial make-up of this life, and the pres
ent possession of the Spirit by the believer is regarded in the
light of an anticipation. The Spirit's proper sphere is accord
ing to this the world to come; from there he projects himself
into the present, and becomes a prophecy of himself in his
eschatological operation.25
Undoubtedly more statements to the same effect would be
found, but for the circumstance that it was more natural for
the Apostle to express the idea in connection with the eschat
ological life of Christ, as already a present reality, than in
connection with the eschatological state of believers, which
still lies in the future. We, therefore, inquire in the second
place to what extent eschatological side-lights fall on the
resurrection and the resurrection-life of Christ. We begin
with Rom. i. 4. Here, we read that Christ was opiadeh uto?
0eov iv Svvd/j,ei Kara irveufia ayicocrvvrt^ i% avaa-Tacrecos veicpujv.
The statement stands in close parallelism to verse 3 tov yevo-
pevov etc o:irepfjiaTo<; AavelS xaTa, crdpica. The following mem
bers correspond to each other in the two clauses :
yevofievos opicrOek
KaTa. adpica KaTa irvevfAa dyicoavvrj'S
in aireppjaTos AavelS if; dvaaTaaeoK veKpwv.
24 So Suidas sub voce.
25 Charles, Teichmann and others assume that the derivation of the resur
rection from the Spirit is a later development in the mind of Paul, that his
earliest eschatology, represented by 1 Thess., was un-pneumatic, which in
volves that at this stage he expected the resurrection of the original body
unchanged. But this is an argument e silentio and not even quite that.
To meet the difficulty of the Thessalonians the fact of the resurrection,
not its mode, or the nature of the resurrection-life, had to be emphasized.
Besides, the pneumatic character of the resurrection is clearly implied in
Chap. iv. 14, for if the death and resurrection of Jesus jointly considered
furnish the guarantee of the believer's resurrection, this must be under
stood on the principle that in Christ's experience that of the Christian is
prefigured. But of such reproduction of the experience of Christ in be
lievers the Spirit is with Paul everywhere the mediating cause. Cf.
also the phrase oi veKpol iv Xpto-rip, which has a pneumatic background.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 229
The reference is not to two coexisting sides in the constitu
tion of the Saviour, but to two successive stages in his life:
there was first a yeveaOai KaTa adpva, then a opiadfjvai KaTa,
irvevpa. The two prepositional phrases have adverbial force :
they describe the mode of the process, yet so as to throw
emphasis rather on the result than on the initial act: Christ
came into being as to his sarkic existence, and he was intro
duced by opio-fios into his pneumatic existence. The opiC,eiv
is not an abstract determination, but an effectual appointment ;
Paul obviously avoids the repetition of yevofie'vov not for
rhetorical reasons only, but because it might have suggested,
even before the reading of the whole sentence could cor
rect it, the misunderstanding that at the resurrection the
divine sonship of Christ as such first originated, whereas the
Apostle merely meant to affirm this late temporal origin of the
divine sonship iv Swdftei, the sonship as such reaching
back into the state of preexistence. By the twofold KaTa the
mode of each state of existence is contrasted, by the twofold
e'« the origin of each. Thus the existence Kara adpica origi
nated " from the seed of David ", the existence icaTa irvevfia
originated " out of resurrection from the dead ". The point
of importance for our present purpose lies in this last con
trast. How can resurrection from the dead be the counter
part of an issue from the seed of David? There are in the
Pauline world of thought but two answers to this question,
and both will have to be combined in the present instance.
The resurrection is to Paul the beginning of a new status of
sonship:26 hence, as Jesus derived his sonship KaTa o-apva
from the seed of David, he can be said to have derived his
divine-sonship-in-power from the resurrection. The implica
tion is that the one working in the resurrection is God: it is
23 Cf. Rom. viii. 23 where vloBeala is equivalent to diroXfrrpojo-is tov o-oj/jjxtos.
In v. 29 the elKiiv of Christ unto conformity to which believers have been
predestinated is the eUJjv of sonship (toO vlov airov and " that he might be
the first-born among many brethren ") and it is eschatologically conceived
for the elKiiv looks forward to the iSb^ao-tv at the end of the catena.
But the thought of eschatological sonship, and that specifically through
the resurrection, is also met with in our Lord's teaching, cf. Mt. v. 9,
xiii. 43; Lk. xx. 36.

230 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
his seed that supernaturally begets the higher sonship. And
in all probability the Genitive dytcoo-vvr)^ which is added to
" Spirit ", is meant as a designation of God from the point of
view of his specific deity, sharply distinguishing him as such
from David. Still, all this might have been expressed by
Paul writing " effectually appointed according to the Spirit of
Holiness the Son in power of God who raises the dead ". That,
instead of doing this, he writes if; avao-Taaeoyi veKp&v must be
explained from a second motive. He wished to contrast the
resurrection-process in a broad generic way with the processes
of this natural life; the resurrection is characteristic of the
beginning of a new order of things, as sarkic birth is character
istic of an older order of things. What stands before the
Apostle's mind is the contrast between the two aeons, for it
was a familiar thought to the Jewish theology that the future
aeon has its characteristic beginning in the great resurrecjion-
act. This also will explain why in if; avaarTaa-ea)<s veKpatv both
nouns are anarthrous. Paul is not thinking of the resurrec
tion of Christ as an event, but of what happened to Christ in
its generic qualitative capacity, as an epoch partaking of a
strictly eschatological nature. From resurrection-begin
nings, from an eschatological genesis dates the pneumatic state
of Christ's glory which is described as a sonship of God
iv Swd/xei.27
27 For the justification of the above exegesis, which cannot here be
given in detail, cf., besides the commentaries, especially Gloel, pp. 113-117;
Sokolowski, pp. 56-62. According to our view the pneuma here spoken
of begins with the resurrection. The other exegesis dates it back either
to the state of preexistence, so that it becomes the element which con
stituted the personality of the Son of God in that state, being identical
with his sonship, or to his earthly life. Both these variations of the
other view fall back, each after its own fashion, into the error of making
the o-dpi, and the irveupa two coexistent component parts in the Person of
Christ instead of two successive states in the life of Christ. The main
objections to this exegesis are: 1.) It would restrict the o-dpl spoken
of to the body, because Spirit is already psychologically conceived and
thus takes the place of the immaterial element. 2.) It is compelled to
take the two koto, clauses in a different sense; the yevio-Bai Kara <rdpm means
a genesis according to the o-dpZ which first introduces Christ into the o-dpi ,
whereas in the bpio-Bfjvai koto, irvevm the Spirit would appear as the pre-
existent norm, in accordance with which the bplfriv took place : a begin-

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL

231

In 1 Cor. xv. 42-50 the Apostle contrasts the two bodies
which belong to the pre-eschatological and the eschatological
state respectively. The former is characterized as i/ru%tA;oV,
the latter as irvev/xaTiKov. Here therefore, as regards the body,
the eschatological state is the state in which the Pneuma rules,
impressing upon the body its threefold characteristic of
aepdapcria, 86f;a, Bvvap,i<; (verses 42, 43). And over against
this, and preceding it, stands the " psychical " body character
ized by d>8opd, ciTifila, and acrOeveia. The proximate reference is
to the body and the contrast is between the body in the state
of sin and the body in the resurrection-state. It will be
noticed, however, that in verses 45, 46 the Apostle generalizes
the antithesis so that it no longer concerns the body exclus
ively, but the whole state of man, and at the same time en
larges the one term of the contrast, that relating to the
pre-eschatological period, so as to make it cover no longer the
reign of sin, but the order of things established in creation.
To irvev/jiaTiKov and to ¦tyvyucov in verse 46 are generalizing
expressions, after which it would be a mistake to supply
a&fia ; they designate the successive reign of two compre
hensive principles in history, two successive world-orders, a
first and a second creation, beginning each with an Adam of
its own.28 Even apart from sin these two stand related to
ning-to-be- Kara o-dpxa is contrasted with a beginning to be something else
than pneuma in harmony with a given pneuma. Gloel himself acknowl
edges this difficulty on p. 115, note 1.
The above interpretation does not, of course, imply that Paul denied
the presence of a pneumatic element in the pre-resurrection life of Jesus,
in other words that he denied the supernatural conception and the equip
ment with the Spirit at baptism. Precisely, because he speaks of the
pneumatic state in the absolute eschatological sense, he could disregard
in this connection, the twofold supernatural equipment just named, for
the reason that it did not give rise to a state iv Svvdpei Kara irvevpjj. such
as characterizes the life of the risen Christ. He could equally well say
here that Christ became /card wevpa at the resurrection, as he can say in
1 Cor. xv. 45 that Christ at the resurrection became a life-giving Spirit.
As above stated, the emphasis rests not on the initial act of the resur
rection but on the resulting state. In regard to the act as such Paul
would not have denied that the entrance of Jesus upon the o-dp% was
likewise kotA wevpa .
23 The question why Paul, after having up to v. 43 (inci.) constructed

232 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
each other, as the natural and the supernatural. This is ex
pressed by the contrast e'« yr)<! and il; ovpavov. When it is
said that the second man is from heaven, this has nothing to
do with the original provenience of Christ from heaven; the
if; ovpavov does not imply a " coming " from heaven, no
more than the e/c yrjs implies a coming of Adam from the
earth at the first creation. To refer e'(? ovpavov to the coming
of Christ out of the state of preexistence at his incarnation
his whole argument on the basis of a comparison between the body of
sin and the body of the resurrection, substitutes from v. 44 on, for the
body of sin, the body of creation, is both a difficult and interesting one.
The answer cannot be found by ascribing to him the view that the
creation-body and the body of sin are identical, in other words that the
evil predicates of <pBopd , dripla, daBtveta enumerated in v. 42 belong to the
body in virtue of creation. Paul teaches too plainly elsewhere that these
things came into the world through sin. The proper solution seems to
be to us the following : The Apostle was intent upon showing that in the
plan of God from the outset provision was made for a higher kind of
body than that of our present experience. From the abnormal body of
sin no inference can be drawn as to the existence of another kind of
body. The abnormal and the eschatological are not so logically correlated
that the one can be postulated from the other. But the world of creation
and the world of eschatology are thus correlated, the one points forward
to the other; on the principle of typology the first Adam prefigures the
second Adam, the psychical body, the pneumatic body (cf. Rom. v. 14).
The statement of v. 440 is meant not as an assertion, but as an argu
ment : if there exists the one kind of body, there exists the other kind also.
This explains why the quotation from Gen. ii. 7, which relates only to the
psychical state, can yet be treated by Paul as proving both, and as war
ranting the subjoined proposition: "The last Adam became a life-giving
Spirit." The quotation proves this, because the psychical as such is
typical of the pneumatic, the first creation of the second, the world that
now is of the world to come. This disposes of the view that Paul meant
to include v. 45° in the quotation, the latter being taken from Gen. i. 2y
(man's creation in the image of God), which would then rest on the
Philonic and older speculation of a twofold creation, first of the ideal,
then of the empirical man. According to this speculation the ideal man
is created first, the empirical man afterwards, as Gen. 1 comes before
Gen. 2. Paul affirms the opposite: not the pneumatic is first, but the psychi
cal is first. If there is reference to this Alexandrian philosophoumenon at
all in v. 46, it is by way of pointed correction. Paul substitutes for the
sequence of the idealistic philosophy, the sequence of historic unfolding:
the categories of his thought are Jewish not Hellenic: he reasons in
forms of time not of space.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 233
would make Paul contradict himself, for it would reverse the
order insisted upon in verse 46 : not the pneumatic is first, but
the psychical first. Besides this, it would make the pneumatic
the constitutive principle of the Person of Christ before the
incarnation, of which there is no trace elsewhere in Paul.
The phrase ef ovpavov simply expresses that Christ after a
supernatural fashion became " the second man " at the point
marked by eiretTa ,29 A " becoming " is affirmed of both
Adams, the second as well as the first, for the iyeveTo in verse
45 belongs to both clauses.30 How far in either case the
subject of which this is affirmed existed before in a differ
ent condition is not reflected upon.31 The whole tenor of the
discussion compels us to think of the resurrection as the
moment at which to irvevpaTiKov entered, the second man
supernaturally appeared, in the form of irvevpa faoiroiovv
inaugurated the eschatological era.32 But besides identify
ing the eschatological and the pneumatic, our passage is pe
culiar in that it most closely identifies the Spirit with Christ.
In the preceding passages the Spirit, who works and bears
the future life was the Spirit of God. Here it is not merely
the Spirit of Christ, but the Spirit which Christ became. And
being thus closely and subjectively identified with the risen
Christ the Spirit imparts to Christ the life-giving power which
is peculiarly the Spirit's own : the second Adam became not
29 Cf. for this use of ii, ovpavov 2 Cor. v. 2 " our habitation which is
from heaven"; Mk. viii. 11, xi. 30; Jno. iii. 27, vi. 31; Apoc. xxi. 2. The
test of this interpretation of ii obpavov lies in the use of iTovpdvios in vss.
48, 49; this is applied to believers as well as to Christ and in the case of
believers it cannot mean that they are at the time of writing " from
heaven " or " in heaven ", cf. Lutgert, Der Mensch aus dem Himmel, in
Greifswalder Studien, 1895, pp. 207-229.
80 From this it follows that, if the ii ovpavov of v. 47 were understood of
the preexistence, it would involve the Arian conception of a creation of
Christ. 31 The form of the quotation from Genesis made it easy for Paul thus
to express himself, for according to it even of the first Adam it is said
iyivero els i>vxvv £&o-av "he was made into a living soul", which in a
certain sense presupposes (at least rhetorically) his previous existence.
82 The Sept. expresses a similar thought in Is. ix. 6 where it renders
"U? '2K by irar-rip tov alwvos p.£k\ovTos " father of the age to come ".

234 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
only irvev/jta %a>v but irvevpa ^woiroiovv . This is of great im
portance for determining the relation to eschatology of the
Christ-worked life in believers, as we shall soon have occasion
to show.
In a few other passages the resurrection of Christ is
ascribed to the Spirit indirectly, being represented as an act of
the owa/«s, the Soga of God, both of which conceptions are
regularly associated with the Spirit, cf . Rom. vi. 4 ; I Cor. vi.
14; 2 Cor. xiii. 4. In none of these, however, is any reference
made to the permanent presence of the Spirit in Christ's life.
But apart from the resurrection the S6f;a is to Paul the specific
form in which he conceives of the exalted state of Jesus, and
this S6f;a is so closely allied to the Spirit in Christ also, as to
become almost a synonym for it. Thus, as God the Father
is said to have raised Christ Sid ttj? 8o'£?;? avTov, believers
are said to be transformed curb 00^77? ek Sogav i. e. from the
glory they behold in (or reflect from) Christ unto the glory
they receive in themselves, 2 Cor. iii. 18.
We have found that the Spirit is both the instrumental
cause of the resurrection-act and the permanent substratum
of the resurrection-life. The question here arises : which of
the two is the primary idea, either in order of thought or in
point of chronological emergence. It might seem plausible
to put the pneumatic derivation of the resurrection-act first,
and to explain this feature from what the Old Testament
teaches concerning the Spirit of God as the source of natural
life in the world and in man, especially since in the allegory
of Ezek. xxxvii. this had already been applied to the (meta
phorical) resurrection of the nation of Israel. If the Spirit
worked physical life in its present form, what was more
reasonable than to assume that he would likewise be the
author of the restoration of physical life in the resurrection?
As a matter of fact, however, we find that the operation of
the Spirit in connection with the natural world recedes into the
background already in the intercanonical literature and re
mains so in the New Testament writings themselves. In
reality Paul connects the Spirit with the resurrection not be
cause he conceives of the future life in analogy with the pres
ent life, but from the very opposite reason, because he con-

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 235
ceives of it as essentially distinct from the present life, as
moving in a totally different element. It is more probable,
therefore, that the thought of the resurrection-life as pneu
matic in character is with him first in order, and that, in
partial dependence on this at least, the idea emerges of the
Spirit as the author of the act of the resurrection. For this
there was given a solid Old Testament basis in trains of thought
which had fully held their own, and even found richer develop
ment in the intermediate and in the early New Testament
period. The transcendental, supernatural world is already to
the Old Testament the specific domain of the Spirit. And,
quite apart from references to the resurrection, this thought
meets us again in Paul. The heavenly world is the pneumatic
world, even irrespective of its eschatological complexion, 1 Cor.
x. 3, 4 ; Eph. i. 3. From this the transition is not difficult to the
idea that the eschatological state is preeminently a pneumatic
state, since the highest form of life known, that of the world
of heaven, must impart to it its specific character.
This will become clearer still, by inquiring in the next place
to what extent the soteriological operations of the Spirit reveal
eschatological affinity. Here a twofold perspective opens
itself up to us. On the one hand in the forensic sphere all
salvation is subsumed under the great rubric of justification.
On the other hand in the pneumatic sphere the categories of
regeneration and sanctification play an equally comprehensive
part. The antithesis between the forensic and the pneumatic
already indicates on "which side the soteriological activity of
the Spirit will chiefly lie and where we may expect traces, if
such there be, of eschatological modes of approach to the
subject. Still it would be rash simply to exclude on that ac
count from our inquiry the topic of justification. Into the
transaction of justification also the Spirit enters. In saying
this we do not refer to the function of the Spirit in the pro
duction of faith on which as its subjective prerequisite the
justifying act of God is suspended. Nor is it possible, con
trary to Paul's plain and insistent declarations on this point,
to assign the vlodeala in part to the subjective sphere, mak
ing it consist in the impartation of the Spirit of sonship.33
ssThis Sokolowski attempts to vindicate as the true Pauline position,

236 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
Nor can the work of the Spirit in the subsequent production of
assurance come under consideration for our present purpose.
What we mean is something else than all this. The possession
of the Spirit is for Paul the natural correlate, the crown and
in so far the infallible exponent of the state of SiKaioo-vvq.
This highly characteristic line of thought can perhaps most
clearly be traced in its application to Christ. For the same
reason that the resurrection of Jesus is in a very real sense
the justification of the Christ,34 this can likewise be affirmed of
the resurrection-life which ever since that moment Christ lives.
The life and glory of the exalted Saviour are the product and
seal and exponent of his status of righteousness. Speaking
in our own terms, and yet faithfully rendering the Pauline
conception, we may say that in his resurrection-state Christ
is righteousness incarnate. Hence also justification is made
dependent on a faith terminating upon the living, glorified
Christ, for in this living, glorified state, his efficacious merit is
most concretely present to the believer's apprehension. Now
it must be remarked that the resurrection-state which is thus
exponential of righteousness is entirely based on the Spirit, cf.
1 Tim. iii. 16 iSiKauoOrj iv irvexjfxaTi. By becoming Pneuma
Christ has become the living witness of the eternal presence
of righteousness for us in the sight of God.35 This will help
us to understand the association between the Spirit and right
eousness where it appears in the case of believers. It
op. cit. pp. 67 ff. in opposition to Weiss and Pfleiderer, who both rightly
insist upon it, that the vioBco-ia, like the Simioio-is, is to Paul a strictly declara
tive act. \
34 Rom. iv. 25 TfyipB-q Sib, rrjv Smalojaiv -qpav probably refers to our
representative justification in Christ as preceding his resurrection, just as
in the corresponding clause our iraparTiip.aTa precede the irapeSbB-q. Accord
ing to 1 Cor. xv. 17, if Christ has not been raised, the faith of the
readers is vain, futile i. e. without effect of justification. Rom. viii. 34
teaches that the crowning reason, why, after God's justification of us,
no one can condemn, lies in Christ's resurrection. To ask in despair of
obtaining righteousness : " Who shall descend into the abyss ? " is accord
ing to Rom. x. 7 tantamount to declaring the resurrection of Christ not
accomplished. 33 Cf . for an admirable exposition of this whole train of thought :
Schader, Die Bedeutung des lebendigen Christus fiir die Rechtfertigung
nach Paulus, 1893.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 237
must here have the same significance, on the one hand that of
a seal attesting justification as an accomplished fact, on the
other hand that of the normal fruit of righteousness. And
it is the former because it is the latter: the possession of the
Spirit seals the actuality of righteousness, because in no other
way than on the basis of righteousness could the Spirit have
been bestowed. In this sense Paul says that the Pneuma is
life Sid SiKaioo-vvrjv , Rom. viii. 10; and stakes the whole
question as to the method by which the Galatians were justi
fied on this, how the Spirit was supplied to them, Gal. iii. 5.
The redemption from the curse of the law had the intent and
effect of bringing to believers the promised Spirit, Gal. iii. 14.
The status of sonship carries with it the mission of the Spirit
into the heart, Gal. iv. 6. In Tit. iii. 5, 6 the gift of the Holy
Spirit proves the connecting link between justification and re
newal, being the effect of the former and the source of the
latter. The irvevfia vioffecrias in Rom. viii. 15 is a Spirit
which results from (or goes with) adoption, not a Spirit which
effects adoption. In 1 Cor. vi. 11 the washing, sanctifying
and justifying of the Corinthians is attributed to the Spirit of
God as well as to the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and on
the exegesis, which takes the dyido-6r)Te in the sense of " ye
were consecrated ", the whole transaction in its three stages
belongs to the forensic sphere, and the Spirit receives a specific
function within that sphere.36
It is plain, however, that all these statements with reference
to the Spirit's presence in believers have for their background
the presence of the Spirit in the same capacity as a seal and
fruit of justification in the exalted Christ. And it is from this
that they receive their eschatological coloring. For in Christ
this Spirit which is the seal and fruit of righteousness is none
other than the Spirit of the consummate life and the consum
mate glory, the circumambient element of the eschatological
state in general. The conclusion, therefore, is fully warranted
that the Spirit as a living attestation of the state of righteous-
3* If ayido-BrjTe be taken in its technical sense of " sanctification ", the
two Datives iv bvbpjxn and iv irveipuTt will have to be chiastically dis
tributed, the former going with " ye were justified ", the latter with " ye
were washed ", " ye were sanctified ".

238 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
ness in the believer has this significance, because he is in prin
ciple the fountain of the blessedness of the world to come. And
this is verified by observing how Paul combines with righteous
ness the peace and joy in the Holy Spirit, and finds in this
Spirit-fed peace and joy the essence of the kingdom of God,
Rom. xiv. 17; how the first-fruit of the Spirit looks forward
to the eschatological vioOeaia Rom. viii. 23 ; how the KaTaXXayrj
and the resulting justification (not first nor merely the sub
jective renewal) open up to the Christian a Kaivrj ktio-i$ , that
new world in which the old things are passed away and new
things have come,37 and which, as contradistinguished from the
o-dp!;, must be the ktio-i? of the Pneuma. Finally, most in
structive is here Gal. v. 5 : irvevfiaTi e'/c iriaTecoi iXiriSa SiKaioo-vvrj<;
aireKSexdfieOa . Here the righteousness of the world to come
which is to be bestowed in the last judgment is represented
as a thing which the Christian still waits for.38 This waiting,
however, is determined by two coordinated factors : on the one
hand it takes place iK irCo-Teax;, on the other hand irvev/iaTi ,39
and these two designate the subjective and the objective
ground respectively on which the confident expectation is
based. In the Spirit, not in the o-dpf; , in faith, not in epya
vo/xov, has the Christian the assurance that the full eschatologi
cal righteousness will become his. (Cf. also Tit. iii. 7.)
More specifically, however, the Spirit belongs to the other
hemisphere of soteriology, that of the subjective renewal and
the renewed state of man. It needs no pointing out how inti
mately this is associated with the Spirit. Hvevfian irepiiraTevl
is a comprehensive phrase for the God-pleasing walk of the
Christian, Gal. v. 16; KaTa irvevfia designates the standard of
ethical normality, both as to being and striving, Rom. viii. 5.
— 3T Thus yiyovev Kaivd should be rendered, not : " they have become new ".
33 'EXirls is here objective "the thing hoped for" and SiK&ioo-ivrfs is
Gen. of apposition : " the hoped for thing consisting in righteousness."
HveipaTi and iK irlo-Teois are not to be construed together, so as to
make out the meaning " the Spirit received out of faith ". Both go co-
ordinately with the verb. Cf. for this passage the very lucid exposition of
Zahn, in his Commentary, pp. 249 ff. He renders the verse as follows :
"Wir erwarten im Geist im Folge Glaubens einen Hoffnungsgegenstand,
welcher in Gerechtigkeit besteht."

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 239
The contrast between o-dpf; and wevfia is an ethical contrast,
Gal. v. 17. Paul represents the Christian virtues and graces
as fruits and gifts of the Spirit, Gal. v. 19 and Rom. xii. 8 ff.
In particular love, which the Apostle regards as the essence of
fulfilment of the law is derived from the Spirit, Rom. xv. 30;
Col. i. 8. The whole range of sanctification belongs to the
province of the Spirit, whence it is called ayiao-ftb<: irvev/jtaTO1;,
2 Thess. ii. 13, and likewise, of course, the " renewal " at the
beginning, Tit. iii. 5. But not only the specifically-ethical,
also the more generally religious, graces and dispositions are
the Spirit's work, such as faith,40 1 Cor. ii. 4, 5 ; 2 Cor. iii. 3
in connection with 1 Cor. iii. 5; 2 Cor. iv. 13; joy. Rom. xiv.
17; Gal. v. 22; 1 Thess. i. 6; peace Rom. viii. 6, xiv. 17, xv.
13; 1 Cor xiv. 33; Gal. v. 22; Eph. iv. 3; hope Rom. iv 5,
xii. 12; Gal. v. 5; Eph. i. 18, iv. 4. Now the comprehensive
conception under which Paul subsumes all these ethical and
religious states, dispositions and activities is that of " life ".
It is the " Spirit of life " which as a new principle and norm
sets free of sin and determines the Christian, Rom. viii. 2.
Whilst the letter kills, the Spirit gives life, 2 Cor. iii. 6, and
that not merely in the forensic sense, but also in the ethico-
religious sense (on account of verses 2, 3). Because believers
live by the Spirit, they can be exhorted also to walk by the
Spirit, Gal. v. 25. Life is to Paul by no means an exclusively
physical conception,41 as Rom. vii. 8-1 1; Eph. iv. 18 will
show. The Apostle even approaches the conception that it
springs from communion with God, Rom. viii. 7; Eph. iv. 18,
and explicitly defines its goal as lying in God Rom. vi. 10, 11 ;
Gal. ii. 19. We find then that on the one hand the renewal
and the renewed state are derived from the Spirit, and that on
the other hand they are reduced to terms of life. This cer
tainly suggests the inference that the connecting link between
the things enumerated and the Spirit lies in their being viewed
as phenomena of life. The Spirit works all this, because he is
40 So correctly Sokolowski pp. 71 ff. against Weiss and Pf leiderer ; cf.
also Titius, Der Paulinismus unter dem Gesichtspunkt der Seligkeit, 1900,
p. 43, against Wendt.
"Against Kabisch, Die Paulinische Eschatologie, 1893. Kabisch is the
Schweitzer of Paulinism.

240

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL

the author of life. With this agrees the fact that in the pas
sages cited above, where the ethical renewal of the Christian
is attributed to the Spirit, Rom. viii. 2 ; 2 Cor. iii. 6; Gal. v. 25,
the conception of " life " in each case accompanies the other
two, being, as it were, the conception in which these meet
and find their higher unity.
Our inquiry, therefore, resolves itself into this, whether
when Paul calls the new state and walk of the believer
life, a life by and in the Spirit, this has anything to do with or
can receive any light from the eschatological aspect of the
Spirit. It might be thought that the whole subsumption of the
ethico-religious content of the Christian state under the cate
gory of the pneumatic, which is so characteristic of Paul, is
nothing else but a simple working out of the prophetic teaching
which, as we have seen above, derives from the Spirit the
new heart, the new obedience, the state of acceptance
with God. In that case the soteriological operation of the
Spirit on its subjective side would not be in any way affected
by his eschatological associations. Paul's movement of thought
in conceiving of the Spirit as the new element of the Christian
state would have been exclusively in the direction from the
present to the future : because the Spirit is and does this now,
he will also be operative after the same fashion in the future.42
We do not mean to deny that this correctly reproduces a train
of thought with which Paul was familiar. After once the
Spirit was clearly apprehended as the substratum and element
of the present Christian state it was inevitable that from this
point of view the line of his characteristic activity should be
prolonged into the future. Thus we find it in Rom. viii. 11.
But this does not by any means exclude that alongside of this
there may have been a perspective in the opposite direction, or
that this may even represent the earlier and more fundamental
mode of viewing the subject. Direct action and reflex action
"Thus Sokolowski thinks that the Pauline doctrine of the Spirit as
the author of the resurrection arose, because to Paul the Spirit as the
author of ethical processes on the one hand, and on the other hand the
idea of the resurrection, stood equally in the foreground, " und das um so
sicherer als sich seine" (d. h. des Geistes) " Fahigkeit physisches Leben
zu wirken aus dem gegenwartigen Dasein des Menschen ausweist", p. 205.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 241
here naturally go together as again Rom. viii. 11 strikingly
shows. Against exclusive insistence upon the former construction
we would urge the following. First 2 Cor. v. 5 is one of the
three directly eschatological passages where, as we have seen,
the present Spirit is an anticipation of the future Spirit. Sec
ondly, the close association of the ethico-religious function of
the Spirit with life in itself creates a presumption in favor of
the view that the future here in part at least colors the present.
For " life " is undoubtedly with Paul, and before Paul with
Jesus, especially in the Synoptical teaching, and idea that is in
the first instance eschatologically conceived and thence
carried back into the present. It is the 0*7 auovioi of the
world to come. In the third place Paul speaks of the present
pneumatic state in terms which are either directly borrowed
from the eschatological vocabulary, or strongly reminiscent
of it. The Kaivr) ktio-is of 2 Cor. v. 17; Gal. vi. 15 is such
a term, and also the KaivoTrj1; 7rvev/iaT0'; of Rom. vii. 6 and
the Kaivif SiadrjKr] irvev/jtaTos of 2 Cor. iii. 6, may here be
remembered. Fourthly, even in the Old Testament where the
ethical operation of the Spirit is mentioned, this is done in the
form of a promise, so that from the outset it appears in an
eschatological environment.43 Fifthly, here also, as before, we
must take into account the Christological background of the
soteriological process. The pneumatic life of the Christian is
a product and a reflex of the pneumatic life of the Christ. It
is a life iv irvev/j,aTi to the same extent as it is a life iv
Xpio-Tm 44 It is important sharply to define the peculiarity
43 In this connection it should be noted that the prophets, while ascrib
ing to the Spirit the task of ethico-religious renewal, do not speak of the
state thus produced in terms of life. The combination between the two
ideas Paul did not borrow from the prophets.
44 It is not essential to the above position to assert that the two for
mulas are entirely synonymous and coextensive, or that the formula iv
Xpio-Tip is formed after the analogy of iv irveipan, as Deissman, Die Neutes-
tamentliche Formel in Christo-Jesu, 1892, thinks. Walter, Der religiose
Gehalt des Galaterbriefs, 1904, PP- 122-144, has, in our opinion, convincingly
shown that the usage of iv Xpio-rb} considerably overlaps the limits within
which iv irveipan would be applicable. It has a large forensic connota-

242 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
on this point of the Pauline doctrine on the relation between
the Spirit bestowed by Christ and the Saviour's own glorified
life, and the extent to which it marks a development beyond
the pre-Pauline teaching. In the Petrine speeches recorded
in the earlier chapters of Acts the Spirit indeed appears as a
gift of the glorified Christ. It was given to Jesus in fulfilment
of the promise of the Father and having received the promised
Spirit he immediately poured it forth upon the disciples, Acts
ii. 33. But according to Paul Jesus at the resurrection receives
the Spirit not merely as an objective gift, something that he
can dispense; the Spirit becomes his own subjective possession,
the Spirit dwelling in him, the source of his own glorified life,
so that when he communicates the Spirit he communicates of
his own, whence also the possession of the Spirit works in the
believer a mystical, vital union with Christ. While Peter's
teaching leaves full room for this whole rich Pauline develop
ment, it does not yet contain this development.45 Paul em
phasizes repeatedly that the Spirit who works life in believers
is the identical Spirit who wrought and still is life for the ex
alted Lord, Rom. viii. 9, 1 1 ; 2 Cor. xiii. 4. When Jesus was
raised from the dead, he did become Pneuma, but this Pneuma
was more than £&v he was ^coottoiovv, communicating himself
tion. But where iv Xpio-Tip relates to the mystical sphere, the two formulas
are practically interchangeable.
45 A point of contact for it has been found in Acts iv. 2. When it is
said that the Apostles " proclaimed in Jesus the resurrection from the
dead", this might, so far as the words are concerned, have the pregnant
Pauline meaning, to the effect that the general resurrection (of the mem
bers of the kingdom) was potentially given in Jesus' resurrection. The
opposite extreme is to understand the Apostolic preaching as a simple
affirmation of the possibility of the resurrection as illustrated in the
concrete case of Jesus, with an anti-Sadducaeic point. But there can be
no doubt that from the beginning the resurrection of Jesus was appre
hended in its eschatological as well as in its Christological importance.
The best view is to find in the words the affirmation by the Apostles that
the resurrection of Jesus guaranteed the resurrection of believers in
general, without reflection upon the vital connection between the two. The
same idea of the typical significance of the resurrection of Jesus finds
expression in the phrases dpxvybs fai)s iii. 15 and dpxyybs Kdl o-ojri)p in
v. 31, if at least dpxyybs be given the pregnant sense of one who first
experiences in himself what he effects for others.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 243
to others, 1 Cor. xv. 45. This only will explain why Paul
cannot merely say Christ has the Spirit but can say: 6 Se
Kt5/otos to ¦jrvev/j.d io-Tiv and can speak of Christ as Kv/mos
•jrvevyi.aTO'i , 2 Cor. iii. 17, 18.46 The gospel is the gospel of
the glory of Christ, 2 Cor. iv. 5. And in the light of all
this it must be further interpreted when Paul speaks of the
process of renewal and sanctification in terms which are not
merely derived from the death and resurrection of Christ,
for this might be a purely figurative usage, but in terms which
posit a real, vital connection between the two, so that what
takes place in the believer is an actual self-reproduction of
what was transacted in Christ. To be joined with the Lord is
to be one Spirit with him, 1 Cor. vi. 17. Now all this tends to
confirm the conclusion already drawn from the four preceding
considerations. If the pneumatic life of the Christian bears this
relation to the pneumatic life of the exalted Lord, then it
must to some extent partake of the eschatological character of
the latter.47
It will perhaps repay us to pursue this thought somewhat
further from a different angle. Especially in the later epis-
43 In dirb Kvplov irveiparos the preposition governs Kvplov and irveiparos
is Genit. qualitatis. It means "from the Lord of the Spirit" not "from
the Spirit of the Lord ". Gloel, p. 123 : " Geistes Herr ist Christus sofern
er als Herr zu einem Stand erhoben ist im welchem Geist den Charakter
seines Wesens ausmacht." An interesting parallel to 1 Cor. xv. 45 and 2
Cor. iii. 17 is Is. xxviii. 5, 6 " Jehovah will become a Spirit of justice." The
parallel shows how close the identification between the Spirit and Christ is ;
it is in some respects like unto that between Jehovah and the Spirit in the
Old Testament. Parallel with the union between the Spirit and Christ's
human nature runs that of the believer and the Spirit. Henee the peculiar
phraseology Tb UvevpA p.ov, rb TLvevpd. <rov.
47 There is only one qualification to be added to the above statement.
When Paul conceives the present life of the Christian as semi-eschat-
ological, this does not extend to the body. Rom. viii. 18; 2 Cor. iii, 18,
iv. 17, 18, v. 3, 4; Col. iii. 3 do not teach that a change in the body is
now taking place, or a new pneumatic body now being formed under
neath the sarkic body. Cf. Titius, Der Paulinismus, pp. 58 ff., as against
Schmiedel. Reitzenstein, Die Hellenistischen Mysterienreligionen pp. 175
ff. would even find in iirevSfoao-Bai of 2 Cor. v. 2, 4 the idea that, after
divestment of the earthly body, Paul will not be found naked but in
possession of an interior body.

244 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
ties, but also to some extent already in the earlier ones, the
Christian state is represented as a belonging to and partici
pation in the sphere of heaven and the heavenly order of
things. The principle is, of course, implied in everything
taught about communion with the heavenly Christ. But in the
representation we have now in mind it assumes a broader, less
personal, so to speak, more local form of expression. There
are two worlds the lower and the higher, and it is affirmed
of the believer that he belongs to the latter and no longer to
the former temporal, the latter eternal, 2 Cor. iv. 18. The
reality. Each has its own axrj/^a, but the o~xviJ'a after which
the Christian patterns himself is that of the other world not
that of this world, Rom. xii. 2. There is a system of things
that are seen, and a system of things that are not seen,
the former temporal, the latter eternal, 2 Cor. iv. 18. The
world has been crucified to the Christian and he unto the world,
Gal. vi. 15. There is a sphere of the heavenly, far above
all rule and authority and power and dominion, Eph. i. 20,
21. Believers have been made to sit in heavenly places, Eph.
ii. 6. The Christian has his iroXiTela in heaven, not upon
earth and therefore should not mind earthly things, Phil. iii.
19, 20. Being raised with Christ he must seek and set his
mind upon the things that are above, not upon the things that
are upon the earth, Col. iii. 1. 2. Sometimes this higher
heavenly order of things is centered in the risen Christ, but it
is also identified with the realm of the Spirit. The irvevftaTiKov
is the heavenly. God has blessed us iv irdo-rj evXoyia irvevfi-
aTiKy iv tok iirovpaviois, Eph. i. 3. The irvevfjiaTiK6<; is also the
iirovpdvio<;, 1 Cor. xv. 40, 50, (Cf. I Cor. x. 3) When
speaking of " the things not seen " and " eternal ", Paul
undoubtedly has in mind the Pneuma as the category to which
these belong, 2 Cor. iv. 18 (cf. the avaKaivovTai in verse 16
and the alwviov fidpos S6^ in verse 17, the eiriyeios in
v. 1 and the dppafiatv tov irvev/jiaTo<; in verse 5.) The same
applies to the distinction between the spheres of faith and
sight in 2 Cor. v. 7. And somewhat of the contrast between the
earthly and the heavenly enters into the great Pauline antithesis
of crap!; and irvevfia, a point to which we shall presently revert.
What interests us here is that this whole opposition between a

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 245
heavenly and an earthly order of things and the anchoring of
the Christian life in the former is a direct offshoot of the
eschatological distinction between two ages. The eschatologi
cal point of view is, of course, originally historical and dra
matic ; a new world can come only with the new age and there
fore lies at first in the future. But the coming age has begun
to be present with the death and resurrection of Christ. From
this it follows that of the coming world likewise a present
existence can be affirmed. Here then the scheme of two suc
cessive worlds makes place for the scheme of two coexisting
worlds. Still further it must be remembered that Christ has
through his resurrection carried the center of this new world
into heaven where he reigns and whence he extends its influence
and boundaries. The two coexisting worlds therefore broadly
coincide with the spheres of heaven and earth. If now the
higher, heavenly world to which the Christian belongs is that
of the Spirit, it must always be remembered that it has become
this in virtue of the progress of the eschatological drama and
will become so more in the same degree that this drama has
tens on to its final denouement. The pneumatic life of the
believer, while centered in heaven, loses none of its eschatolo
gical setting. Back of the static continues to lie the dramatic ;
the distinction between the earthly and the heavenly is not
cosmologically but eschatologically conceived. By the pneu
matic as a synonym of the heavenly Paul does not mean
heaven or the spiritual in the abstract, but heaven and the
spiritual as they have become in result of the process of re
demption. To irvevfiaTiKov is " second " (eiTa) and Christ as
Hvevfia £a>oiroiovv "became" (iyeveTo).48 This will also
explain why the new contrast between two simultaneous
worlds does not supersede the eschatological perspective for the
future. The two spheres still are in conflict, the two ages still
labor to bring forth their respective worlds, a crisis is still
outstanding. Cf. Eph. i. 14, i. 21, ii. 7, 12, iv. 4, 30, v. 6;
Col. iii. 4, vi. 24; Phil. i. 6, ii. 16, iii. 20. Precisely here lies
the point in which the Pauline doctrine of the Spirit and the
48 Here the difference between Philo and Paul is very striking, for ac
cording to Philo Adam already possessed the Pneuma-power, Opif. 144
quoted by Volz, p. 106.

246 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
Hellenic or Hellenistic conception of the pneuma are sharply
differentiated, striking though their similarity in some other
respects may be. The Greek philosophical pneuma, whether in
its dualistic Platonic or neo-Platonic form, or in its hylozoistic
Stoic form, lacks every historic significance, it is, even where
it appears in contrast to an opposing element, the result of a
bisection of nature, not the product of a supernatural divine
activity. With Paul, both in regard to the o-dpf; and the
¦Kvevjxa, the historical factor remains the controlling one. If
the sphere of the o-dpl; is evil, this is not due to its natural con
stitution, because it is material or sensual, but because it has
historically become evil through the entrance of sin.49 And
when Paul views the pneumatic world as the consummated
world, this also is not due simply to its natural constitution
as the ideal nonsensual world, but because through the Messiah
it has become the finished product of God's designs for man.50
Even into the revealing work of the Spirit the eschatological
associations enter. From the nature of the case this has its
primary reference to the present life, just as the glossolalia and
the cognate phenomena are rather premonitions of the world
to come than constituent elements of that world itself, sub-
eschatological rather than semi-eschatological manifestations.51
Revelation, however, while providing for a present need, may
have for its object the realities of the future life, and thus the
thought emerges that the Spirit, who is so closely identified
with the future life in general, when thus disclosing the things
to come, discloses what in a very special sense is his own.
With this thought we actually meet in 1 Cor. ii. The wisdom
which Paul speaks among the TeXeioi, verse 6, but which he
could not speak among the Corinthians (iii. 1 irveviiaTiKoi =
TeXeioi ) , a wisdom therefore to be distinguished from his ordi
nary preaching, God's wisdom iv /livottj/oiw (ii. 7) is ac
cording to verse 10 derived from the Spirit. The point of
43 Notice the studied avoidance of the term aapKiKbs in the context of
1 Cor. xv. 44 ff., where Paul wishes to contrast the pneumatic with the
natural-as-such, irrespective of its sinful quality.
60 Cf. Titius, Der Paulinismus, pp. 242-250.
81 Cf. 1 Cor. xiv. 22, xiii. 10-13 ; but, on the other hand xiii. 1 " the
tongues of angels "

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL

247

view from which Paul makes this last affirmation is partly theo
logical : the Spirit is the appropriate organ for revealing such
things, because he stands in as intimate a relation to God as
the spirit of a man to man. He can search all things,
even those deep things of God with which the higher o-ocbia
deals, for he is the Spirit of God. Intertwined with this, how
ever, appears the other consideration, that the " wisdom " has
to do with eschatological facts and that for this reason it be
longs to the particular province of the Spirit to reveal it. It re
lates to something that has been hidden, which God foreor
dained before the aeons, and which concerned the S6%a of be
lievers, verse 7. More particularly it is defined as that " which
eye saw not and ear heard not, and which entered not into the
heart of man, whatsoever things God prepared for them that
love him ",52 It comprises " the things that were freely given
to us of God ", verse 12. In contrast to it stands a wisdom tow
alS>vo<; tovtov " of this age " and of " the apyovrts of this
age " who are already coming to nought, verse 6. Those who
belong to " this age " can not know it, verse 8. Obviously this
implies that believers can know it because they belong to " the
age to come."53 Because they have part in the future world,
the mysteries of the future world are communicable to them.
Now, it should be noticed that Paul expresses the same idea
also in the other form that the Christian is, or may be irvevfi-
anKO'i, whereas the man who belongs to the present age is
1/rv^t/co'?, ii. 14-16, iii. 1. It is as irvev paTiKos that he has
access to these transcendental things from which the yjrvxiKov
is by his very constitution excluded. To belong to the world
to come and to be irvevp,aTiK6<; are used as interchangeable
conceptions. Not merely, therefore, because the Christian is
the recipient of revelation, but for the further and more speci-
82 According to Origen Comm. ad Matth. xxvii. 9 these words stood in
the Secreta Eliae Prophetae which tends to confirm their eschatological
reference (cf. Schiirer, Gesch. des. Jiid. Volk. Ill, pp. 361 ff.). Dibelius,
Die Geisterwelt im Glauben des Paulus, 1909, p. 91 note.i.
88 In the reading ipuv ydp (v. 10) the ydp is highly significant, be
cause it attaches itself to the intermediate (unexpressed) thought: "We
do not share in the ignorance of the alijv oZtos" — " for to us God has
revealed them through his Spirit."

248 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
fie reason, that he already partakes of that which is the distinc
tive quality of the future life, can he be initiated into the
mysteries of the latter. The spirit is the source of the escha
tological fivo-Tijpiov both in the sphere of being and in the
sphere of revelation. Hence also in verse 11 Paul draws a for
mal distinction between the Trvevpa of the koo-/j,o<i and the
irvevpa to iK tov Oeov which once more shows that the Spirit is
considered not exclusively as a principium revelations, but as
the determining principle of an order of things, and therefore
as the natural organ for disclosing its content.54 The passage
also furnishes a parallel to the eschatological interpretation of
the contrast between i^v^ko? and irvev/xaTiKo^ met with in
1 Cor. xv. 44 ff. Very sharply Paul distinguishes in iii. 1-4
not merely between irvev/j,aTiKo<; and o-apKivos (verse 1 ; in
verse 3 crapKiKo<i ) or between koto dvOpwirov irepiiraTelv
and its opposite, (verse 3) but also between the mere dvOpmirov
elvai and the being something more than a mere man (verse 4
om dvOpcoiroi io-Te ;). It goes without saying that a rhetorical
form of statement like the last-mentioned ought not to be pres
sed, as if Paul meant to represent the Christian pneumatic state
as something super-human. What he means is evidently that
the Corinthians had behaved as ordinary men, who were no
more than what man is by nature. Still the paradoxical form
in which the thought finds expression bears strong witness to
the fact that Paul looked upon the Christian state as something
belonging to a totally different order of affairs from the state of
nature, and that the eschatological contrast was to him the only
category which could adequately convey this difference.55
34 Notice how in the context 6 k6o>os ovtos and 6 alojv olros are used
promiscuously, I Cor. i. 20, ii. 6, 12, iii. 18, 19.
65 Reitzenstein, Die Hellenistischen Mysterienreligionen, 1910, proposes
an interpretation of the antithesis fvxmbs — irvevfj.aTiKbs. which would detach
it altogether from its eschatological background, and in the place of this
make it a form of expression of the essentially Hellenistic and Gnostic
contrast between the supernatural world of the spiritual and the natural
world of sense. According to him the technical sense of fvxiKbs arose
from the belief that in the mysteries through regeneration a new ego
is created which traverses the heavens and attains to the vision of God.
This new ego is distinct from and replaces the old self ^z^vxi, because it
is deified. Holy Spirit has entered into such an one, his own person he

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 249
The passage just examined suggests the query to what ex
tent, if to any, the Holy Spirit is by Paul placed in contrast to
Satan and evil spirits in general. Inasmuch as evil spirit-
powers undoubtedly play a role in connection with the present
aeon and their conquest is plainly a considerable part of its pass
ing away, every pointed opposition of the Spirit to such powers
has left behind. In the ecstatic state also the God who enters, mentem
priorem expulit, atque hominem toto sibi cedere jussit pectore (quoted
from Lucanus). Here i^ux^=self and irvevpa are mutually exclusive
(pp. 44-46). What the pneuma produces is a " Gottwesen " (p. 55), the
process is an diroBiwtris , and in this sense Reitzenstein interprets the
Pauline terms Soidfriv and perapopipovv (p. 168.) The Trvevp.aTiKbs is " uber-
haupt nicht mehr Mensch " (p. 168). Pfleiderer's quotation from
Rohde's Psyche, in Urchristenthum2 I, p. 266, also suggests the same solu
tion. Reitzenstein is well aware that such ideas must have stood in flagrant
contradiction to Paul's fundamental type of thought, because, as he him
self admits, the magical, transformation of a sinful man into a " Gott
wesen " runs contrary to the profound moral earnestness of the Jewish re
ligion (p. 56.) He further admits that Paul has not been able to
surmount this contradiction (ib.). The only thing that might commend this
hypothesis it that it seems to offer a plausible explanation of the technical
use of \pvxiKbs . But even if this could not be explained in any other way,
it would not be permissible on that account to entertain a solution so
flagrantly at variance with Paul's fundamental religious convictions. As
to the passages themselves which Reitzenstein discusses at great length
{Paulus als Pneumatiker pp. 160-204), there is only one expression that
seems to favor his proposal, viz. the depreciatory characterization of the
Oorinthians as dvBpwiroi, 1 Cor. iii. 4. But, as has already been said,
it would be absurd to press this to the extent of finding in it the
deification of the Christian and the denial of his true humanity. Nor
can the fact that in contrast to fvxiKbs &vBpairos Paul puts the simple
irvevpdTiKbs (without dvBponros) in ii. 15 be appealed to in proof of such
a view, for in iii. 1, 3 both o-apdvois and irvevp-aTiKott occur without the
noun. Reitzenstein also argues from the phrase rd tov irveipviTos tov Beov
in ii. 14, because the addition of tov Beov is in his view intelligible only
on the supposition that "previously to the miraculous transmutation of
being man and God belong to two different worlds ". But the thought is
all the time that the wisdom of man is a wisdom of the Kbo-pjos and
of a definite aliiv of the Kbo-pss, so that its counterpart, the wisdom of God
will also have its own domain in a definite sphere and period. It can
be called the wisdom of God, because God is supreme in that sphere and
age. What Paul, therefore, means is not that man must become God, but
that he must be translated from the Kbo-fws into the world of God. The
true contrast to " ye are men " in iii. 4 is not " ye are divine " but " ye

250 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
would carry with it more or less of an eschatological atmo
sphere.56 As a matter of fact, however, not much material of
are of God and of Christ '', v. 22, and the same is implied by way of con
trast in the clauses " I am of Paul ", " I am of Apollos " iii. 4. The
absurdity of this nomenclature does not lie in the fact that they act
like men while being divine, but is that they act as belonging to men, while
being the property of God. And, what decides everything, in 1 Cor. xv.
45, 47 the pneumatic Christ is distinctly called " man ". Reitzenstein
gets around this only by altering the text. He proposes (p. 172) to read
in v. 45 iyivero 6 dvBpiuiros (instead of iyivero b irpiirros dvBpojwos "ASap),
which not only eliminates, through the omission of irp&Tos, the implication
that there is a second man, but also imparts the idea that the second Adam
is not man, because the first is called " the man " specifically. It might, of
course, be said, that the true manhood of Christ even so is presupposed in
his being called b Seirepos dvBpom-os in v. 47, but Reitzenstein interprets
this on the basis of a belief on Paul's part in a God named "AvBpojiros (with
a capital), which God is identified with Christ, so as to warrant the
conclusion, that the latter is n-vevpjx t;oioiroi6v (p. 173.) This change of
the text is absolutely uncalled for, and the introduction of a God 'AvBpimros
entirely foreign to the Apostle's trend of thought, which is throughout
governed by the principle of the true unity and parallelism between Christ's
human nature and ours as appears with sufficient clearness from v. 21 :
" For since Si dvBpilnrov came death, Si dvBpiinrov came also the resurrec
tion of the dead." The " mere man " who is transcended by the " deified
man " Reitzenstein also would find in 2 Cor. xii. 4 : " which it is not
lawful for a man (i. e. ' a mere man ') to utter." This may be answered
by pointing to v. 2 where the recipient of the revelation described, i. e.
a highly pneumatic subject, is spoken of as "a man in Christ". Reitzen
stein, to be sure thinks he can escape the force of this by taking " a man
in Christ " as one idea = a pneumatic person. Still even so he remains
to Paul a man, and besides in v. 3 we have the simple " such a man "
(without iv Xpio-rty) . The whole explanation of fvxiKbs from the ecstatic
state breaks down, because in ecstasy, as defined by Philo and others,
the \pvxv of man simply vacates and, far from forming a new divine
subject, the man becomes a receptacle for the divine Pneuma. The man
disappears and God takes his place : the technical phrase is Karixeo-Bai ix
Beov. The contrast between a " psychical " and a " pneumatic " man can
not have arisen through reflection upon this. As to the impossibility of
irvevpjxTiKbs meaning in contrast to fvxwbs " one who has not only a *j/vxt)
but also the ILvevpa,'' to which Reitzenstein appeals in support of his view,
we may refer to Zielinski in Theol. Literature. 1911, no. 24, col. 740, who
shows that the contrast between proletariats and assiduus is of precisely
the same nature, the former being one who has only children, the latter
one who has landed property, but is not necessarily childless.
63 Cf. the Synoptical statement, Mt. xii. 28 = Lk. xi. 20 (where, how
ever, iv SaKriXu. Beov takes the place of the iv irveipari 0eoOin Mt.).

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 251
this nature can be gleaned from the Pauline epistles. As we
have seen in 1 Cor. ii. 12 the kosmos has its own spirit which
governs the psychical man. At the same time the kosmos has
its own rulers in the supernatural sphere, for of such the
apxovTes tov aicbvo1; tovtov in verse 6 will probably have to
be understood. It is not clear whether in verse 12 the concep
tion of " receiving " the spirit of the kosmos points to a trans
cendental influence brought to bear upon men from the outside.
If so, it will be natural to connect this irvev\i,a tov koo-jiov with
the dpxovTe^ tov alwvos tovtov It must also be remem
bered that Satan is called in 2 Cor. iv. 4 6 Oebs tov alcovos
tovtov , and the very point of this bold comparison seems to
lie in this that, as the true God by his Spirit illumines the minds
of believers enabling them to behold the glory of Christ in the
gospel, so the false God of the present age, has a counter-
spirit at work (or is a counter-spirit) which blinds the minds
of the unbelieving that the light of the gospel of the glory
of Christ should not dawn upon them. Here both the con
ception of S6l;a as the content of the gospel and the parallel
ism between the first and the second creation in verse 6 impart
an unmistakable eschatological flavor to the comparison.
Where the thought of the wisdom-passage in 1 Cor. ii. recurs
later in Col. ii. 2 ff. with many striking reminiscences even
as to the form, the contrast becomes one purely between
Christ and the spirits, and the conception of the irvevfia tov
xoo-piov in its opposition to the irvev/Jia to eVc tov Oeov
does not reappear. This suggests that the relative ab
sence of the antithesis between the Holy Spirit and the evil
spirits is largely due to the fact that, wherever such compari
sons occur with Paul, Christ himself is personally opposed to
the Satanic power and the Spirit not explicitly mentioned.57
In Eph. ii. 2 on the other hand we read again, as in 1 Cor. ii.
12, of a " pneuma that now works in the sons of disobedience ",
which pneuma is moreover distinctly associated with the aeon
of this present kosmos, so that the corresponding conception
87 Cf. Col. i. 11, where the iiomla toO o-k6tovs is contrasted with the
f3ao-i\ela tov vlov and only the characterization of the inheritance of the
saints as a Khrjpos iv rip <piorl reminds of the domain of the Spirit. Cf.
further ii. 9, 15.

252 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
of a Spirit belonging to the age to come inevitably obtrudes
itself, a point further favored by the fact that the formula
elsewhere characteristic of conformity to the Holy Spirit as an
ethical power here occurs of conformity to the opposite prin
ciple, irepiiraTeiv KaTa tov alwva tov Koa/nov tovtov, KaTa top
apxovTa t?}? if;ovcrias tov aepoi . Also the ivepyeiv ascribed
to the evil spirit reminds of the energizing of the Holy
Spirit, cf. I Cor. xii. 1 1 ; Eph. iii. 20. Finally the koo-/jiok-
paTopes tov o-kotovs Toirrov, Ta irvevfiaTMa Tr}<; irovrjpia<; iv
toi? iirovpavioi<; of Eph. vi. 12 may be mentioned here, al
though the implied contrast to the Spirit of God is not so
clearly present.
Quite a large sphere would have to be annexed to this rubric,
if it could be proven on the one hand that the o-Toixeia tov
k6o-/j,ov appearing in Galatians and Colossians are meant by
Paul as world-spirits or spirits of the elements, and on the
other hand that Paul connects the o-dpl; directly with the rule
of evil spirits. In the case of the o-Toixeia the opposition to
the Holy Spirit would be of an implied nature, rather than
explicit: still Gal. iii. 3 compared with iii. 6 might be
quoted in support of this. In Colossians it is Christ, not the
Spirit who forms the contrast to the o-Toixeia , ii. 8, 20.58 In re
gard to the o-dpf; the correlation with the Pneuma is undisputed,
but here no proof can be adduced of any constant association in
the mind of Paul between it and the world of evil spirits. This
could be done only by connecting the o-dpf; with the o-Toixela,
a connection in no wise indicated by any Pauline passage.59
58 For the modern discussion on the o-Toixtla cf. Hilgenfeld, Der
Galaterbrief, 1852, pp. 66 ff., and ZWTh., 1858, pp. 99 ff. ; i860, pp.
208 ff. ; 1866, pp. 314 ff. ; Schaubach, Commentatio qua exponitur quid
aroixeia tov Kbo-pjjv in N.T. sibi velint, 1862; Schneckenburger, TheoL
Jahrb. 1848, pp. 445 ff. ; Klopper, Der Brief an die Kolosser, 1882, pp. 361
ff., Blom, Theol. Tydschr., 1883, pp. 4 ff. ; Spitta, Der zweite Brief des
Petrus, 1885 ; Everling, Die Paulinische Angelologie und Damonologier
1888, pp. 65 ff. ; Diels, Elementum, 1899; Deissman's art. Elements in
Enc. Bib.; Dibelius, Die Geisterwelt im Glauben des Paulus, 1909, pp. 78 ff.,
136 ff., 227 ff.
"' Gal. iii. 3 stands too far removed from iv. 3, 9 to come under con
sideration here, and besides too plainly refers to " works of the law ", as
the concrete form of the o-dpi. Bruckner, Die Entstehung der Paulinischen

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 253
The above discussion, aside from its inherent interest has a
bearing on certain important Biblico-theological problems.
This we briefly indicate in conclusion.
In the first place the eschatological conception of the Spirit
and his work is perhaps adapted to throw light upon what is
most striking and characteristic in Paul's entire treatment of
the subject of the Spirit. This consists in the thoroughness
with which the pneumatic factor is equally distributed over
the entire range of the Christian life, so that from the sub
jective side the Christian and the pneumatic become inter
changeable, and especially in the emphasis with which the
center of the Spirit's operation is placed in the ethico-religious
sphere. Wth such thoroughness and emphasis this had not
been done before Paul. Gunkel60 has no doubt exaggerated
Christologie, 1903, pp. 210 ff. attempts to establish a connection between
demoniacal powers and the o-dpi as the principle of sin. He is not, how
ever, able to quote anything in support of this except 2 Cor. xi. 3, which
proves nothing, and the general observation that the paraibrris and <f>Bopd to
which the creation is subject have a demoniacal background, which does not
appear either in Rom. viii. 20, 21 or anywhere else. Dibelius, who care
fully traces all the demonological references and allusions in Paul, and even
recognizes in 'Apaprla and Qdvaros personal spirits, is entirely silent about
the o-dpi ¦
"Die Wirkungen des Heiligen Geistes nach der populdren Anschauung
der apostolischen Zeit und nach der Lehre des Apostels Paulus, 1888, 2d
ed. 1899. Sokolowski, p. 199 is more fair in the estimate placed upon the
Old Testament statements in regard to the ethical functions of the Spirit;
as to the early apostolic teaching he throws out this caution that much may
have existed in the minds of the first Christians, of which no record fs
made in Acts, and so with reference to Jesus. Still, where the sources do
not speak, he deems it scientifically more correct " vor der Hand " to deny
to Jesus and the early church the specific Pauline conceptions than the
reverse, p. 196. Volz, pp. 194 ff. thinks that the contrast as usually drawn
between Synoptics-Acts and Paul is wrong, that there should be
substituted for it the contrast between Matthew and Mark on the one
hand and Luke and Paul on the other hand, that is, the contrast between
Palestinian Christianity and Pauline-Hellenic world-Christianity. But why
not say that it is simply a contrast between the records of the earlier and
the records of later history, so that the prominence of the Spirit in
the documents reflects the lesser or greater prominence of the Spirit in the
development of events? That Luke in the Gospel makes more of the Spirit
than Matthew is contraindicated by his substituting xi. 20 iv SaKriXip for iv
vvetipjxTi Mt. xii. 28.

254

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL

the originality of Paul in this respect and underestimated the
preparation made for this development by the Old Testament
prophetic and earlier New Testament teaching. Still a simple
comparison between the Petrine speeches in Acts and the Paul
ine statements abundantly shows, that Paul was the first to as
cribe to the Spirit that dominating place and that pervasive uni
form activity, which secure to him alongside of the Father and
the Son a necessary relation to the Christian state at every
point. The question arises whether we can trace in Paul's
teaching the roots out of which this conception of the Spirit
grew, or at least the other elements in his thought to which it
sustained from its very birth a relation of interdependence and
mutual adjustment. Probably more than one factor will here
have to be taken into account. The theocentric bent of Paul's
mind makes for the conclusion that in the Christian life all
must be from God and for God, and the Spirit of God would
be the natural agent for securing this. The impotence of sin
ful human nature for good, one of the Apostle's profoundest
convictions, would likewise postulate the operation of the
Spirit along the whole range of ethical movement and activity.
The marvellous efflorescence of a new ethical life among the
early Christians in its contrast with pagan immorality, and
its impulsiveness and spontaneity as compared with Jewish
formalism, would of themselves point to a miraculous, super
natural source, which could be none other than the Spirit of
God. Still further, the fact that to Paul the Spirit is preemi
nently the Spirit of Christ and therefore as thoroughly equable
and ethical in his activity as the mind of Jesus himself, will
have to be remembered here. But, alongside of all these mo
tives, there worked probably as the first and most influential
cause the idea that it is the Spirit of God who gives form and
character to the eschatological life in the broadest and most
pervasive sense, that the coming age is the age of the Spirit
par excellence, so that all that enters into it, forms part of it,
or takes place in it, must necessarily be baptized into the
Pneuma as into an omnipresent element and thus itself become
" spiritual " in its mode of existence and quality. This will
explain not only the uniform and equable infusion of the Spirit
into the Christian life at every point ; it also accounts for the

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 255
strong emphasis thrown upon the ethico-religious life as within
the larger sphere the most characteristic of all the Spirit's pro
ducts. For if the Spirit be the Spirit of the almv peXXcov, then
his most distinctive task must lie where the coming aeon is most
sharply differentiated in principle from the present age. And
this, as all the Pauline references to the two aeons go to prove,
is the ethical quality of both. The alcov iveo-Tax; is before all
other things an ala>v irovripos, Gal. i. 4. One to whom this
ethical contrast stood in the foreground, and who was at the
same time accustomed to view the future aeon as the world of
the Spirit, would of necessity be thereby led to place the ethico-
religious transformation at the center of the Spirit's activity.
He would interpret not only the whole Christian life in terms
of the Spirit, but would also regard the newness of the moral
and religious life as a fruit of the Spirit in its highest po
tency.61 Our second inference concerns the Apostle's Christology.
A widely current modern construction of the Pauline doctrine
31 The question may properly be raised at this point whether Paul's
characteristic conception of the o-dpi does not likewise have its eschat
ological antecedents. It is so antithetically determined by its correlative,
the Pneuma, that a certain illumination of the one must more or less
affect the coloring of the other. To discuss the question here would lead
us too far afield. We confine ourselves to the following. While the
trdpi chiefly appears as a power or principle in the subjective experience
of man, yet this is by no means the only aspect under which Paul re
gards it. It is an organism, an order of things beyond the individual
man, even beyond human nature. It is something that is not inherently
evil, the evil predicates are joined to it by means of a synthetic judg
ment. Still further it has its affiliations and ramifications in the ex
ternal, physical, natural (as opposed to supernatural) constitution of
things. Now if o-dpi was originally the characteristic designation of the
first world-order, as Pneuma is that of the second, all these features
could be easily accounted for without having recourse to Hellenistic-
dualistic explanations. From its association with the entire present aeon,
the odpt, could derive its pervasive, comprehensive significance, in virtue
of which a man can be iv traprt as he can be iv weipari; like the aeon
it lends a uniform complexion to all existing things. It would also de
rive from this its partial coincidence with the somatic, because the whole
first aeon moves on the external, provisional, physical plane. Finally it
would derive from this its synonymy with evil, for according to Paul, the
present aeon has become an evil aeon in its whole extent.

256 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
of Christ finds in the Spirit that element which formed the
true inner essence of the Son of God in his preexistent state,
so that his being the Son of God, and his being the Spirit come
to express the same thing, the one from a formal the other
from a material point of view. Christ carried over this origi
nal pneumatic character from the preexistent state into his
earthly life and from his earthly life again into the post-resur
rection state, the only difference being that, while in the first
and the third stages the Spirit ruled supreme, in the inter
mediate stage his presence was obscured and his activity re
pressed by the o-dp% . In this construction the place of the
divine nature is taken by the pneumatic personality. The ab
solute sense of the /Mopcbrj Oeov of Phil. ii. 6 is weakened so
as to make it appear the equivalent of the e'lKoov Oeov or the
60'fa Oeov of which elsewhere Paul represents Christ as the
bearer. For the divine Christ is substituted a Spirit-being, a
creature of high rank but still a creature.62 Now, if we have
succeeded to any degree in elucidating the actual perspective
in which the Christ-Pneuma appears with Paul, it will be easily
felt what gross violence this modern construction does to the
" Especially Bruckner in his work Die Entstehung der Pawlinischen
Christologie, 1903, has strenuously advocated this theory, in the special
form that he places the origin of this pneumatic Christology back of
Paul in Judaism. According to him the " Wesensveranderung " of the
Messiah into a pneumatic person was due to this that the enemies of the
Messiah had come to be regarded as celestial powers, angels and de
mons, no longer as mere men p. 116. In order to make him equal to the
requirements of a conquest of these, it was necessary to believe him super
human. But it is far from clear why pneumatic endowment should not
have been thought sufficient for this. As a matter of fact all that Bruckner
succeeds in gleaning from the apocalyptic literature amounts to no more
than this. Of equipment we read in Psalt. Sol. xvii. 37 ; xviii. 7. As to
Enoch (Similit.) Bruckner himself admits, that the author does not reflect
upon the relation between the Messiah and God, p. 140. Here also we
meet with the idea of equipment, xlix. 3. To be sure he thinks that
here the endowment with the Spirit is more of a " Wesensbestimmung "
than in Psalt. Sol., but this is scarcely borne out by the facts p. 144.
The only thing Bruckner can find in 4 Ezr. to connect the Messiah with
the Spirit is the stream of fire proceeding from him for the destruction
of his enemies, xiii. 9-11, p. 156, but this~is rather far-fetched. In the
Ap. of Bar. there is no reference to the Messianic Spirit at all. In
Test. XII Pat. we have again the idea of endowment, Test. Lev. 18.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 257
main principle which governs that part of the Apostle's teach
ing. For we have found that the peculiar identification be
tween Christ and the Spirit, on which the construction de
pends, is dated by Paul from the resurrection, that it has a
strictly eschatological significance, that it is used exclusively
to describe what Christ is in his Messianic capacity with ref
erence to believers, and never recurred upon to define the origi
nal constitution of Christ's Person as such. Paul everywhere
approaches the endowment of Christ with the Spirit from an
eschatological-soteriological point of view, and the fundamen
tal error of this modern reproduction of his Christological
teaching arises from its failure to appreciate that fact. What
the Apostle places at the end of the Messianic process is mis
takenly carried back into the earlier life of the Messianic
Person and there made to do service for explaining the mys
tery of the origin of the Son of God. The fallacy of this
procedure will become doubly apparent by observing, that on
the one hand, where Paul introduces the pneumatic Christ he
uniformly refers to the state of exaltation, and on the other
hand, where he speaks of the preexistent Christ every reference
to the Pneuma is conspicuously absent. Paul himself did not
confound, as his modern interpreters do, what belongs to
Christ as a Person and what belongs to him in virtue of his
office. The third and last observation suggested by our inquiry
touches the heart of the Pauline pneumatology itself. It is
often asserted by representatives of a certain school of theo
logical thought, that the development of New Testament doc
trine moves along the line of " deeschatologization." The
great service rendered both by Jesus in his teaching on the
present kingdom and by Paul in his teaching on justification
and the life in the Spirit is held to consist in this, that they
translated the transcendental blessedness expected from a fu
ture world into experiences and privileges of a purely imma
nent character to be enjoyed now and here below. To the
same degree as they succeeded in doing this they divested the
eschatological of its intrinsic importance and made it a mere
fringe or form to the true substance of Christianity which can
and does exist independently of it. It would seem to us

258 ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL
that in most representations of this kind the dislike of the
eschatological revealed springs from a suspicious mo
tive. It is easy to speak disparagingly of the gross realistic
expectations of the Jews, but those, who do so, often under
the pretense of a refined spiritualism attack the very essence of
Biblical supernaturalism. At bottom it is the spirit of the evo
lutionary philosophy, which here voices its protest against the
idea of consummation, as at the other end of the line of Bibli
cal history it protests against the idea of creation. Besides the
supernatural it is the soteriological that is resented in eschat
ology. The eschatological is nothing else but supernaturalism
and soteriology in the strongest possible solution.63 Hence the
religion of the present, what is so highly extolled in Jesus and
Paul, is depicted largely in the colors of an ideal natural re
ligion. The eschatological kingdom not merely becomes pres
ent, but the present kingdom becomes a mere matter of son-
ship and righteousness without redemptive setting and realized
by subjective internal processes. And the essence of the Chris
tian state, as Paul describes it, is sought in much the same
things. The " Spirit " is supposed to stand for that side of the
Apostle's conception of religion, on which it is least affected
by the abnormal, the miraculous, in a word for the " spiritual "
in the conventional sense of that term. We, therefore, have
to do here not with an innocent shift from the future to the
present, but with a radical change from one clearly defined
type of religion to another.64 With the setting aside of the
eschatological something else of inestimable value and im
portance that lies enshrined in it and cannot exist without it,
evaporates. 63 This goes far to account for the modern dislike of the Messianic
consciousness of Jesus and the doubt of its historicity. Messianism is
the most typical expression of an eschatological world-view and carries
with it all the implications of the latter.
64 In a recent work by Von Dobschiitz, The Eschatology of the Gos
pels, 1910, this tendency finds typical expression. The author speaks of
Jesus' doctrine of the present kingdom as " transmuted eschatology ".
Transmutation implies that a change in character and tone, not in mere
chronology, has taken place. " Anticipation of eschatology " would far
more accurately describe the actual process both in the mind of Jesus
and of Paul.

ESCHATOLOGY AND THE SPIRIT IN PAUL 259
If our investigation has shown anything, it has shown
how utterly foreign all this is to the plain intent of the
Apostle's teaching on the Spirit. For Paul the Spirit was
regularly associated with the world to come and from the
Spirit thus conceived in all his supernatural and redemptive
potency the Christian life receives throughout its specific char
acter. In the combination of these two ideas, that the Spirit
belongs to the alav fieXXav and that he determines the present
life, we have the most impressive witness for the thorough
going supernaturalness of Paul's interpretation of Christianity.
In its origin and in the source from which in continuance its
life is fed Christianity is as little of this world as the future
life is of this world. The conception of the Spirit proves that
what Paul meant to do is precisely the opposite of what is
imputed to him. Not to " transmute " the eschatological into
a religion of time, but to raise the religion of time to the
plane of eternity — such was the purport of his gospel.

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
Robert Dick Wilson

Purpose of the article is to review certain statements of Dr. Driver
about the Aramaic of Daniel.
Citation of Dr. Driver's statements.
The four propositions contained in these statements.
A. Discussion of the first proposition, that Daniel belongs to the Western
Aramaic. i. Proof that the preformative ' y' was not in Daniel's time a
distinctive mark of Western Aramaic.
2. Proof that the' ending a retained its definite sense up to 400
B. C. among the Eastern Arameans.
B. Discussion of the second proposition, that the Aramaic of Daniel is
all but identical with that of Ezra.
C. Discussion of the third proposition, that it is nearly allied to that
of the Targum of Onkelos and Jonathan and to that of the Naba-
teans and the Palmyrenes.
I. Signs and sounds.
1. Use of Aleph. 2. Use of Wau. 3. Use of He.
4. Use of Lomadh. 5. Use of d and z. 6. Use of m and n.
7. Further discussion of n.
8, Interchange of Sadhe, Ayin and Qoph.
9. Use of other letters.
II. Forms and Inflections.
1. Pronouns. 2. Nouns. 3. Particles. 4. Verbs.
a. Imperfect of the Lomadh Aleph (He) verbs.
b. The Hophal. c. The Pe'il.
d. The 3rd pi. fem. perfect.
e. The Nun of Pe Nun verbs in the imperfect.
f- tvn g. Shaphel.
h. The preformative He in the causative stem.
III. Syntax : the manner of denoting the direct object.
IV. Vocabulary. a. Of Onkelos.
1. Verbs denoting the idea "to put"
2. Foreign words employed.
(1) Greek. (2) Persian. (3) Babylonian.
b. Of the Nabateans.
c. Of the Palmyrenes.
d. Of the Targum of Jonathan.
D. Discussion of the fourth proposition, that the Aramaic of Daniel is
that which was spoken in or near Palestine at a date after the
conquest of Palestine by Alexander the Great.
Conclusion: The evidence points to Babylon as the place and the
latter part of the 6th century B. C. as the time of the composition of
Daniel.

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
Every student of the Old Testament who has read the chap
ter on Daniel in Dr. Driver's Literature of the Old Testament
(LOT latest edition 1910) must have been forcibly struck by
the arguments presented in favor of a late date for the book
which are based upon the alleged agreement between the Ara
maic contained in it and that found in the dialects of the
Nabateans, of the Palmyrenes, and of the Targums of Onke
los and Jonathan. So impressed was the writer of this arti
cle by the significance of these statements, backed up as they
are by an imposing array of evidence, that he determined to
undertake a new investigation of the whole problem of the
relations existing between the various dialects of Aramaic.
Such an undertaking necessarily involved as complete an in
vestigation as was possible of the documents which consti
tute the extant literature of these dialects, in so far as they
bear upon grammar and lexicography. Fortunately, a large
part of the work involved in the investigation had already
been completed by him. But, needless to remark, the ac
complishment of such a task — and the writer does not regard
it as yet accomplished, although he is firmly convinced that
further investigation will only serve to strengthen and con
firm the conclusions which he has put forward in this article —
would have been utterly impossible, had there not been already
to hand so many grammars, lexicons, and texts, of scientific
value. Largely for convenience of treatment the writer has
divided the material into ten parts, each of which he calls a
dialect. These dialects are ( 1 ) Northern Aramaic, embracing
all inscriptions found outside of Egypt down to the year 400
B.C., (2) Egypto- Aramaic, (3) Daniel, (4) Ezra, (5) the
Nabatean inscriptions, (6) the Palmyrene, (7) the Targum of
Onkelos, (8) the Syriac, (9) the Mandean, and (10) the

264 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
Samaritan. The works to which he has been most indebted are
the Corpus Inscriptionum Semiticarum and the works of De
Vogue, Euting, Pognon, Sayce-Cowley, Sachau, Littmann,
Cooke, Lidzbarski, Brederek, Noldeke, Petermann, Kautzsch,
Strack, Marti, Brockelmann, Norberg, Levy and Dalman.
The invaluable Sachau papyri (Leipzig, Heinrichs 191 1) ar
rived in time to be made available in their bearing upon most
of the points discussed.
The views advanced by Dr. Driver to which the writer
takes exception will be found on pages 502-4, and 508 of his
LOT, where we read as follows:
" The Aramaic of David (which is all but identical with that
of Ezra) is a Western Aramaic dialect, of the type spoken in
and about Palestine.1 It is nearly allied to the Aramaic of the
Targums of Onkelos and Jonathan; and still more so to the
Aramaic dialects spoken E. and SE. of Palestine, in Palmyra
and Nabatsea, and known from inscriptions dating from the
3rd cent. b.c. to the 2nd cent. a.d. In some respects it is of an
earlier type than the Aramaic of Onkelos and Jonathan; and
this fact was formerly supposed to be a ground for the antiq
uity of the Book. But the argument is not conclusive. For
(1) the differences are not considerable,2 and largely ortho-
1 Noldeke, Enc. Brit" xxi. 647° — 8° = Die Sem. Sprachen2 (1899), 35, 37 ;
Enc. B. i. 282. The idea that the Jews forgot their Hebrew in Babylonia,
and spoke in " Chaldee " when they returned to Palestine, is unfounded.
Haggai, Zechariah and other post-exilic writers use Hebrew : Aramaic is
exceptional. Hebrew was still normally spoken c. 430 b. c. in Jerusalem
(Neh. xiii. 24). The Hebrews, after their Captivity, acquired gradually
the use of the Aramaic from their neighbours in and about Palestine. See
Noldeke. ZDMG. 1871, p. 129 f . ; Kautzsch, Gramm. des Bibl. Aram. § 6;
Wright, Compar. Gramm. of the Semitic Languages (1890), p. 16: "Now
do not for a moment suppose that the Jews lost the use of Hebrew in the
Babylonian captivity, and brought back with then into Palestine this so-
called Chaldee. The Aramean dialect, which gradually got the upper hand
since 5-4 cent. b. c, did not come that long journey across the Syrian
desert ; it was there, on the spot ; and it ended by taking possession of the
field, side by side with the kindred dialect of the Samaritans." The term
" Chaldee " for the Aramaic of either the Bible or the Targums is a mis
nomer, the use of which is only a source of confusion.
2 They are carefully collected (on the basis, largely, of M'Gill's investi
gations) by Dr. Pusey, Daniel, ed 2, pp. 45 ff., 602 ff. (an interesting lexi-

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 265
graphical: the Targums of Onkelos and Jonathan did not
probably receive their present form before the 4th cent. a.d. :3
and we are not in a position to affirm that the transition from
the Aramaic of Dan. and Ezra to that of the Targums must
have required 8-9 centuries, and could not have been accomp
lished in 4-5 ; (2) recently discovered inscriptions have shown
that many of the forms in which it differs from the Aramaic
of the Targums were actually in use in neighbouring countries
down to the ist cent, a.d.4 "
Thus' the final n (for x)in verbs tt"h , and in rus, no, mn, &c., occurs
often in Nab.; the Hofal {not a Hebraism: Nold. GGA., 1884, 1015;
Sachau; Wright), and in the pass, of Pe'al (Dan. iii. 21 al. : Bev. pp. 37,
72), in the Palm. Tariff (Sachau, ZMDG. 1883, p. 564 f . ; Wright, Comp.
Gr. p. 224 f. ; otherwise Cooke, 334) ; note also HT3J was made in Cooke,
No. 96s (Nold, Z. f. Ass., 1890, p. 290; cf. Dalman, Gram, des Jiid.-Pal.
Aram. 202 C253) n.) ; the s in the impf. of verbs x""7 not changed to
' , repeatedly in Nab. and the Tariff ; kjxid (with x ) Dan. iv. 16, 21 ; Kt.
Nab, Cooke 813, 824, 94s, Eut. 27 (= CIS. ii. 224)13; <rrx (Tg. ;y« ) Nab.
Cooke 80' 81' 85s 862-7 &c; n (Tg. i) and HJT (Tg. pi ), both regularly
in Palm. Nab. ; tjnjx Dan. iv. 13, 14 ; Kt., Nab. ibid. 79' 86" B * &c. ; J re
tained in the impf. of verbs j"3, Nab. ibid, yg2 8o! " 86" 87s psj-, 79s * 805
tru-; the 3 pi. pf. fern, in 1-, as Dan. vi. 5, vii. 20; Kt, Nab ibid. 801 8s1.
For the suff. of 3 ps. pi., Nab. has Din- (the more original form), Palm.
[in- ; Dan. agrees here with Palm., Jer. x. 11 with Nab.; Ezr. has both
forms. It is remarkable that — to judge from the uniform usage of the inscrip
tions at present known from Nineveh, Babylon, Tenia, Egypt, and even
Cilicia (coins of Mazseus: Cook 149 A 6, cf. on A 5), Cappadocia (Lidz-
barski, Ephem. Epigr. i. 67, 323, 325), and Lycia {CIS. 11. i. 109, — with

cal point is that the vocabulary agrees sometimes with Syriac against the
Targums). But when all are told, the differences are far outweighed by
the resemblances; so that relatively they cannot be termed important or
considerable. (The amount of difference is much exaggerated in the
Speaker's Comm. p. 228. The statement in the text agrees with the judg
ment of Noldeke, I.e. p. 648"; Enc. Bibl. i. 283.)
3 Deutsch in Smith's DB. iii. 1644, 1652 ; Volck in Herzog,s xv. 366,
370; Noldeke, Enc. Bibl. i. 282.
* See (chiefly) De Vogue, La Syrie Centrale (1868), with inscriptions
from Palmyra, mostly from 1-3 cent. a. d. (an excellent selection in Cooke,
N.-Sem. Inscr. Nos. 110-146), the long bilingual Tariff of tolls from Pal
myra, of a. d. 137 {ibid. No. 147) ; Euting, Nabatdische Inschriften (1885),
with inscriptions (largely of the reign ofnmn = 'Apiras, 2 Cor. xi. 32)
from b. c. 9 to a. d. 75 (Cooke, Nos. 78-102).

266 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
njt for nj"0 — in the Aramaic used officially (cf. p. 255; Isa. xxxvi. n)
in the Ass. and Persian empires, the relative was •),' not, as in Dan.
Ezr., and Aram, generally, h (i). 'l thus occurs on weights and con
tract-tablets from Nineveh {CIS. 11. i. 2-5 [cf. Cooke, No. 60], 17, 20, 28,
30, 31, 38, 39, 41, 42, all of 8-7 cent b. c. ; rf. Cooke 150. 2) ; and Babylon
{ibid. 65, b. c. 504, 69-71, b. c. 418, 407, 408; Clay, in OT. and Sem. Studies
in memory of W. R. Harper, 1908, ii. 299 ff., Nos. 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 11, 33
from the reign of Artaxerxes, b. c. 464-424, and Nos. 23, 26, 28, 29, 33,
35, 40 from that of Darius IL. b. c. 424-404 ; cf . Cooke, No. 6y ; (s) p^
earth for (x)yix (Dan., Ezr.) also occurs regularly in the same in
scription, CIS. 1-4 [Cooke, No. 66], 7, 11, 28, 35 from Nineveh, Clay, Nos.
5. 8, 11, 29, 40 from Babylon. These differences are cogent evidence that
the Aramaic of Daniel was not that spoken at Babylon in Daniel's age.
Its character in other respects apart from the Persian and Greek words
which it contains, cannot be said to lead to any definite result : its re
semblance with the Aramaic of Ezra (probably c. 400 b. c.) does not
prove it to be contemporary.
Again Dr. Driver says on page 508 of the same work :
" The verdict of the language of Daniel is thus clear. The
Persian words presuppose a period after the Persian empire
had been well established : the Greek words demand, the He
brew supports, and the Aramaic permits, a date after the con
quest of Palestine by Alexander the Great (b.c. 332). The
Aramaic is also that which was spoken in or near Palestine.
With our present knowledge, this is as much as the language
authorizes us definitely to affirm." 6
There are four main propositions contained in these cita
tions from Dr. Driver : first, that the Aramaic of Daniel is
Western ; second, that it is all but identical with that of Ezra ;
third, that it is nearly allied with that of the Targums of
Onkelos and Jonathan and to that of the Nabateans and
Palmyrenes ; and fourth, that it was " spoken in and about
3 So in the Aram, of Zinjirli (p. 255 n.) : Cooke, Nos. 61-65.
3 In justice to Dr. Driver we have cited the above statements in full. In
justice to the writer of this review it should be said that he has reserved
for a future article the words in the second citation, " The Hebrew sup
ports " ; and that the word " thus " of the first sentence in so far as it
refers to Dr. Driver's discussion of the Hebrew of Daniel on page 504-8
has not been considered in this article. Hebrew is brought into the present
treatment only in so far as it is a constituent part of the Aramaic portion of
Daniel.

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 267
Palestine ", " at a date after the conquest of Palestine by
Alexander the Great ".
A. Taking these propositions up in order, we would like to
ask in the first place, in view of the inscriptions that have been
lately published, what foundation still exists for designating
the Aramaic of Daniel as Western.
The only reasons given by Prof. Theodor Noldeke, who is
generally recognized as the highest authority in this field, for
the distinction between Eastern and Western Aramaic are
that the third person masculine of the Imperfect of the Eastern
type has the preformative n (or I), whereas the Western has
y; and that the Eastern has ceased to attach the sense of the
definite article to the ending a of the status emphaticus. (See
also Margoliouth in Encyc. Brit. 24:625). It is undoubtedly
true and must be readily admitted by all that these distinctions
are perfectly clear and undeniable in all works which have
come down to us that were written subsequent to the year
200 A.D. But all the documentary evidence that we possess
shows that in earlier times, down at least to 73 A.D., the
Eastern Aramaic did not differ in these two respects from the
Western. According to Noldeke himself the evidence of the
Babylonian Talmud does not go back beyond the period from
the fourth to the sixth century A.D., and the Mandean writings
belong to a somewhat later period.7 The earliest Syriac writ
ing known is the inscription of the tomb of Manu near Serrin
in Mesopotamia, which was discovered and published by H.
Pognon, the erudite French consul, in his work called In
scriptions Semitiques de la Syrie, de la Mesopotamie et de la
Region de Mossoul, Paris, 1907. (Part First, page 15, seq.)
All of the imperfects of the third person in this inscription,
and there are six of them, have the performative y; so that it
is certain that as late as the end of the 1st century A.D., the
preformative that has hitherto been looked upon as at all
times a characteristic of the Western Aramaic was also in use
in the Eastern. Whether the other preformative was
also in use so early is an interesting question, but one
* In his Mandean Grammar, page 22, he states that the earliest of the
Mandean writings that are known was composed in the 7th century A. D.

268 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
which cannot be answered at present, since no further data
exist. It ought, however, certainly to be admitted, that if one
writer of Eastern Aramaic could and did use the preformative
y at the end of the first century A.D., another writer of
Eastern Aramaic might have used it at the end of the sixth
century B.C. That is, if Manu, son of Darnahai, used it in
73 A.D., Daniel may at least have used it in 535 B.C., despite
the fact that from the second century A.D. on, other forms
are found to have been used universally and exclusively in all
the East-Aramaic documents that have been discovered.
But the inscription of Manu is not the only evidence that
the preformative y was used in pre-Christian times in Eastern
Aramaic. In CIS43 we find the form ya'al " let him bring ",
and also N^O'1 in CIS 106, both of the 7th century B.C. Fur
thermore, in all of the old Aramaic names that have so far
been published in the Corpus Inscriptionum Semiticarum and
elsewhere, which contain this form of the verb as a component
part, the preformative is inveriably y. All of these names
are indisputably from the regions occupied by the Eastern
Arameans. These names are Yirpeel, (CIS77) from the
eighth or seventh century B.C. ; Neboyirban (CIS39) from
the year 674 B.C. ; Yibcharel (CIS47) from the sevench
century B.C.
Finally, the third person masculine of the imperfects in the
Aramaic version of the Behistun Inscription published in
Sept. 191 1 by Prof. Sachau of Berlin, have invariably the
preformative y. Of course, this may represent a West-
Aramaic rescension ; but, inasmuch as the kings of Persia had
their court in the midst of the East-Arameans and since the
Behistun Inscription was in the neighborhood of the regions
occupied by the East-Arameans, it is fully as probable that
the Aramaic version preserved in these particular papyri rep
resents the Eastern Aramaic of that time.
Inasmuch, then, as it has been shown that the preformative
11 to denote the third person masculine of the imperfect was
never employed by any of the oldest Arameans, East or West,
the assertion that the book of Daniel (whether it was written
in the second or in the sixth century B.C., is not here the
question) was written in a Western dialect and the consequent

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 269
implication that it cannot have been written in Babylon, are
both shown to be without any foundation in the facts as
known. With regard to the use of Lomadh as a preformative of
the jussive form of the imperfect, the fact that it has been
found in the Hadad inscription from the 8th century B.C.
shows that it may well have been used in a document coming
from the 6th century B.C. The fact that in later times it oc
curs only in the Babylonian Talmud and in the Mandean,8
both written in or about Babylon, shows as far as it shows
anything, that Daniel was written in the East rather than in
the West.
With regard to the second distinction between the Western
and Eastern Aramaic (that the former employs the ending
a to denote the definite or emphatic state, whereas the latter
has come to use the emphatic in the same sense as the abso
lute), a study of the earlier East- Aramaic inscriptions would
indicate that in the usage of the period from 800 B.C. to 400
B.C. the distinction between the two states was just as closely
preserved in the Eastern as in the Western Aramaic. Thus
in the Aramaic inscriptions from the 8th to the 6th century
B.C. the ending a to represent the emphatic state is employed
in the following phrases :
of the land ", CIS Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 7.
" sale of the handmaid Hambusu ", id. 19.
" sale of the field ", id. 24, 27, 53.
book of the silver ", id. 30.
son of the king ", id. 38, 39.
the barley ", id. 42.
"the silver", id. 43, 70, 71, 108.
" the scribe ", id. 46, 84.
" the pledge ", id. 65.
" the house ", id. 65.
the eunuch ", id. 75.
the guards ", id. 108.
3 Dalman says on p. 264 of his Grammar, that in Onkelos and the Tar
gum of Jonathan the form never is found except in additions (abgesehen
von Zusatzen) to the text.

270

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL

So in Clay's Aramaic Indorsements, some of which reach as
late as 400 B.C., we find the same usage, viz., " the rent of
the land", No. 5, 8, 11, cf. 21; "document concerning the
house ", 17; " Darius the king", 22; " document of the lands
of the Carpenter ", 29.
When it is remembered that all the inscriptions here cited
are from the provenience of the Eastern Aramaic, that they
cover the period from the 8th century B.C. to the 5th Century
B.C. inclusive, and that in every one of the cases given in the
CIS and in Clay's Indorsements the emphatic state is used in
a definite and proper sense, it will be evident that in the 6th
century B.C., a writer composing a work at Babylon might
have employed the emphatic state in its definite sense. For
there is no proof that in the 6th century B.C., any dialect of
the Aramaic did not use the emphatic state to denote what the
Hebrew denoted by the definite article. The Eastern as well
as the Western Aramaic documents alike employ the emphatic
state, ending in a, and they both alike employ it correctly and
in the same sense.
There is therefore no evidence that in the 6th century B.C.,
either of these two features, which at a later time make
the distinction between the Eastern and Western Aramaic,
was in existence; and hence it is wrong to say that the book
of Daniel was written in Western Aramaic as distinguished
from Eastern.
B. The second statement of Dr. Driver to the effect that
the Aramaic of Daniel is all but identical with that of Ezra
may be accepted as in most respects correct. This is what we
might have expected, if Daniel was written in the 6th and
Ezra in the 5th century B.C. But since they are almost iden
tical, it would follow that if the Aramaic of Daniel were late,
the Aramaic of Ezra would be late also. That is, this would
follow if Dr. Driver's argument be correct and if it were true
that a proved similarity between the Aramaic of Daniel and
that of the Nabateans, Palmyrenes, and the Targums, would
prove the late date of Daniel. By parity of reasoning, if
Daniel be late because its language is like that of the Naba
teans, Palmyrenes, and the Targums; then it is early because
it is like that of Ezra, or Ezra is late because its language is

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 271
like that of Daniel. According to Dr. Driver's own argu
ment, either Daniel and Ezra are both early or both late. In
the sequel we shall endeavor to show that the language of
Daniel is not like that of either the Nabateans, the Palmyrenes,
or the Talmuds, and that the language of Daniel is early rather
than late.
C. In the third place, Dr. Driver says, that the Aramaic of
Daniel is "nearly allied to the Aramaic of the Targums of
Onkelos and Jonathan; and still more so to the Aramaic dia
lects spoken East and Southeast of Palestine, in Palmyra and
Nabataea, and known from inscriptions dating from the 3rd
century B.C. to the 2nd ceutury A.D."
The obvious intention of this statement is to leave the im
pression on the mind of the reader that the book of Daniel is
late, because the Aramaic dialect in which a part of it is
written resembles the Aramaic contained in writings that are
known to have been composed long after the 6th century B.C.
We judge that it was a slip of the pen that caused Dr. Driver
to say that the Palmyrene and Nabatean inscriptions are dated
from the 3rd century B.C. to the 2nd century A.D. It would
be more exact to say that the Nabatean inscriptions whose
date is known extend from 70 B.C. to 95 A.D. and the Palmy
rene from 9 B.C. to 271 A.D. This correction of Dr. Driver's
statement merely brings it into harmony with the generally
accepted view, that there are no Aramaic inscriptions of any
kind from what is called the Greek period, except the bilin
gual proper name from Tello. But passing by this statement
as a mere inadvertence, we shall address ourselves to the main
issue, stating the question to be considered as follows : Is it
true that the Aramaic of Daniel is nearly allied to that of the
Targums of Onkelos and Jonathan and to that of the Palmy
rene and Nabatean inscriptions?
Before attempting to answer this question, it may be well
to define what we mean by " nearly allied ". All dialects of
a given language are allied and always more closely allied to
one another than they are to the dialects of any other lan
guage. When it is said that one dialect of a language is
nearly allied to one or more other dialects, it means that it
resembles it or them more closely than it resembles certain

272

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL

others. In other words, it is a comparative statement. In
the particular case before us, it can only mean that the Ara
maic of Daniel is more nearly allied to those dialects mentioned
than it is to the Northern Syriac of the Sendshirli inscrip
tions, or to the Egyptian Aramaic, or to the Mandean and
Syriac. And the purpose of the statement is, that, if it were
true, it would make a presumption, almost equivalent to a
demonstration, that the Aramaic of Daniel was written in or
about Palestine and at a date not far removed from that at
which the documents which it resembles were written.
If it can be shown that the Aramaic of Daniel resembles
the Aramaic from the 8th to the 5th century B.C. as much as
it resembles that of these later documents, no conclusion as to
the date of the Aramaic of Daniel could be drawn from its
resemblances to these other Aramaic dialects. If it can be
shown that it more closely resembles the language of the
ancient documents than it does that of the later, there would
be a strong presumption for an early date for the Aramaic of
Daniel. And vice versa.
But, while paying due attention to the resemblances be
tween the dialects, we must not fail to keep in mind, that
after all it is the differences between the dialects that con
stitute their essential characteristics. The Aramaic of Daniel,
for example, is not a dialect because of those parts which are
common to it with other dialects, but because of its differentia.
And the question to be asked with regard to these differentia
in determining the date and provenience of a dialect is : At
what time and place would a dialect possessing them have been
produced? If the dialect is preserved in a single work, we
may further ask, whether the personality, education, and cir
cumstances, of the presumptive author might have influenced
him in certain pecularities of language, making them personal
rather than dialectic.
Furthermore, in discussing the question of the date and
provenience of a work, and the pecularities and alliances of a
dialect, it is proper to consider not merely the grammar of
each but also the vocabulary. And again, in respect to the
vocabulary, it is not so much to the use of different words
that are possibly of pure Aramaic origin or use, as to the

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 273
admixture of foreign vocables, that attention must be di
rected, inasmuch as almost every work, especially if it be on
a new subject, will contain words not found elsewhere in the
written language. Foreign terms, however, almost infallibly
indicate the location and time that the work was written,
especially in their earliest occurrence, or if they be found
nowhere else.
With these preliminary remarks, let us proceed to a discus
sion of the relations of the Aramaic of Daniel to that of the
other dialects, first as to its grammar and secondly as to its
vocabulary. We shall study these relations under the head
ings of signs and sounds, forms and inflections, syntax and
vocabulary.
I. Signs and Sounds
The dialects agree in general in the use they make of the
signs b, g, h, t, k, I, p, and r. That is, where we find b or g in
one dialect we may expect to find them in all, since they
always denote the same sound. But on the other hand, the
use of Aleph and h varies frequently in the different dialects
or even in the same dialect ; as does also that of rf and z; w, y
and Aleph; m and n; Semkath and Sin; Sodhe, 'Ayin, and
Qoph; and of Shin and Tau. Sometimes these differences are
simply variant ways of spelling, no difference in sound being
presupposed. At other times, however, a variation in the
sound lies at the foundation of the variation of the sign.
1. Use of Aleph. Giving our attention first to the letter
Aleph, we shall take as an example of the variation in the use
of it the word KID " lord ". The fact that this word re
tains the Aleph in the Nabatean, just as we find it in the
Kethiv of Dan. iv. 16, 21, is used by Dr. Driver as evidence
that Daniel may have been late in spite of the fact that the
Aramaic of the Targums has dropped the Aleph. The evi
dence with regard to the writing of KID is as follows :
a. In the Sendshirli inscriptions we find it in the const.
sing. KID B. R. 3, n[K]lD Pan. 11, ''KID Pan. 19, B. R. 5, 6.
b. In the Egypto-Aramaic, KID in Sach. 15. 15.6, 35.37.2;
50a. 2, 61 R. 9 in the absolute; 2.15 in the construct; '•KID

274 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
7.8, 11. 17, 12.2 (?), 13.12V.2, 36.39R-1, 43-2-IO> 60.7.2;
^K-lD 49.2 and CISi44A.i,2; HK1D 49.2 and CIS145AF;
JN1D 1.1, 2.18, 23, 3V.17, 22, 4.5.7, 12, 12, 5. 1, 5; W 11. 1,
12.1, 12; TIK1D 13.12V.1.2.3. Without Aleph, DiTnD ?
15,15.6; in SC possibly *n» M.a.2(?) and ]")¦& P.2.
c. In Daniel KID in the construct ii. 47, v. 23; ''KID iv. 16,
21. d. In Ezra, no form found.
e. In Nabatean, KID in the construct CIS235A2 ; K3K1D
Pet. i. 3. CIS199.8, 201.4.
f. In Palmyrene, KID in the construct, Vog.73.1, Tay.i;
pnio Vog.28.4, po Vog.23.2, 25.3; vino Vog. 103.6;
jinmo Vog.294(?)
g. In all the Targums, we have "ID, in the construct '•ID
but never K*ID ¦
h. In Syriac, Mandean, and Samaritan, the Aleph is always
dropped. From the above examples it will be seen that while a late
writer of Aramaic might have written the word as Daniel
does, the almost universal usage is against it. The Nabateans
and Palmyrenes in the central desert still employed it, but to
the east, north and west of them it was dropped by all. Among
the older writings, however, it was almost as universally em
ployed, but one certain example of its omission being known.
2. Use of Wau. Every student of ancient Aramaic texts
knows that variations in the use of Wau and Yodh are no
sure indications of the age of a document. In inscriptions
from the same age and dialect, we frequently find the same
word written both with and without one or the other of these
letters. For example, take in Palmyrene the word " to save ".
It is written aft? in Cooke No. 101, from A.D. 45, and
2W in another document from 96 A.D. (id. note). Take
also KD"1 (Sachau papyri 64.2) instead of the usual KDV (id.
2.20; 3V.19; 20.K.7.1; 33-33-4; 45-1; 63.^.2).
Further, it must be kept in mind in discussing Wau and
Yodh, that thousands of variations in the use of them are to
be found in the Hebrew MSS. of the Old Testament. We
should remember also that the vowel signs now in the Hebrew

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 275
and Aramaic texts of the Bible do not antedate the 6th century
A.D. Bearing these facts in mind we shall enter upon a discus
sion of Dr. Driver's statement on page 504 of LOT, that we
have the same manner of writing tf/13K in the Kethiv of
Daniel iv. 13, 14 and in the Nabatean (Cooke 79.7, 86,3,5,6,
etc.). This remark must refer to the spelling, since the use
of the word in the sense of " one " is found in Palmyrene
(Cooke p. 311) and we may add, in SC, K8, 10, and in Sach.
36.39 and 46.14; but in Daniel it means "men, mankind,
Menschheit " just as in Sach. Pap. 46.6 and 48.1.4. The
papyri distinguished between B>JK and KtWK using the
former for " one " and the latter for " mankind ", just as
Daniel does, for in iv. 13, 14 the latter writes KtPiJX (or KtMK
if we follow the Qre), while the Nabatean has tPUX. In
other words, the meaning of the form used in Nabatean
differs from that used in Daniel in the verses cited. Still, as
Daniel does elsewhere use tMK in the sense of " one ", we
may waive this point.
It has been customary to call these two cases Hebraisms, as
Marti did in the first edition of his Aramaic Grammar. This
would seem probably correct, in view of the fact that Daniel
eight times elsewhere in the Aramaic portions spells the word
KEOK and that the word is spelled with the 0 42 times in
the Hebrew portion of the Bible. The Massoretes have con
sidered the 6 to be a mistake in the text of iv. 13, 14 and have
corrected it by changing the vowel from 6 to a in harmony with
the usual spelling elsewhere in Daniel. In view of the fact
that the Hebrew in nearly all cases has changed an a to 6, and
especially in view of the further fact that in the West Syriac
an East Syriac a is pronounced as 0, it is easy to see how a
writer or copyist might vary in the spelling of a word con
taining a sound that shifted from a to 0. Especially would
this be true of a Hebrew writing Aramaic. This variation of
sound may account also for the fact that the Palmyrene has
1MK while the Nabatean has PUK • For ourselves, we
prefer to consider it an error of a Hebrew scribe, just as the
Massoretes have done. But at any rate, that the writer of

276 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
Daniel should have spelt the word twice with an a as against
eighteen times with an 6 does not show a very close relation be
tween him and the Nabatean scribes who wrote the inscrip
tions in that language in the first century A.D. ; for they
always write it with an 6.
3. Use of He. Dr. Driver says that Daniel may have
been late, because a final He in verbs Lomadh Aleph occurs
often in Nabatean, although the Targums have uniformly em
ployed Aleph. This statement is ambiguous. No verb that
had originally an Aleph as its third radical has been found
either in Nabatean, or Palmyrene. What Dr. Driver means
us to understand is, that verbs whose third radical was Wau
or Yodh have had this third radical elided and that its place
is taken by the vowel letter He, instead of by Aleph as in the
Targums. How a verb whose third radical was Aleph could
have been written in Nabatean or Palmyrene, we do not
know, because no such verb has yet been found. The evi
dence for the use of the final He, or Aleph, in the verbs
whose third radical was originally Wau, Yodh, or Aleph, is
as follows :
a. The Syriac, Mandean, and the Aramaic of the Targums
never use He.
b. The early inscriptions always use He for verbs whose
third radical was Wau or Yodh and Aleph for those whose
third radical was Aleph.
c. The Nabatean and Palmyrene and the book of Ezra
have no verbs whose third radical was originally Aleph. In
writing those which had originally Wau or Yodh, they some
times employ He, sometimes Aleph.
d. Samaritan commonly employs Aleph for verbs that origi
nally had Aleph and He for those that had Wau and Yodh,
though for the latter Wau and Yodh are sometimes employed,
perhaps in imitation of the Arabic method of writing them.
e. The text of Daniel presents a method of writing differ
ent from that found elsewhere.
(1) The originally Lomadh Aleph verb KtW is written
with an Aleph.
(2) The verb KDD which the Sachau papyri treat as an

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 277
originally Lomadh Aleph verb, Daniel writes KDD once
and twice, HDD .
(3) Kit? is written with an Aleph, (once only). Possi
bly this verb is found in the K1fin:iJ> of CIS696.3.
(4) rUD, rD") and flflK are written with a He, though Ezra
writes the latter with an Aleph.
(5) Kin and KJD are written once each with Aleph
and once each with He. Marti's text reads HTrl both times
and KP3 both times, mn is written seven times and Kin four
times without variants, and once we find each one in the
Kethiv and the other in the Qre. Since the latter two verbs
are always written with a He in Egypto-Aramaic and KtDD
with an Aleph, it would require merely the harmonizing of
these variant readings of Daniel to bring his text into complete
accord with the spellings of the Aramaic Egyptian documents
of the 5th century B.C. The same may be said of rUK,
!1D, and mn which is Egypto-Aramaic and always spelled
with a He.
4. Use of Lomadh. a. In Daniel. In the verb p^D the b
is assimilated backwards whenever the D comes at the end
of the syllable; e. g., a. "^pSil iii. 22, pen vi. 24.
Instead of the doubling of the D, the Inf. Hoph. inserts a
Nun before it. e. g. npDJn vi. 24. But J^fiD iii. 25, iv. 34.
b. In Ezra, the b of ^>n is dropped, e. g., ^ v. 5, vii. 13,
Ifizb vii. 13.
c. In N. Syr. the verbs containing these peculiarities have
not been found.
d. In Egyptian Aramaic, we have "ann Sak. B.4 C6
(=CISi45 B4C6) and SCG 25, 28; ty-iN SC.D22; "nnp
Sach. 63.5.2, but "^HD 42.9; |"DiT» Sach. 29.19.
e. In Nabatean the verbs containing these peculiarities have
not yet been found.
f. In Palmyrene we find IpDK T. 1.5, pDD T. 1.8; pDK
Vog. 74. We find in Pal. also tfnbz Sem. vi. 4 for BAKHttO.
g. In Onkelos b is (1) dropped in the Imv. Peal of p^D
and in the Impf. and Inf. Peal of tbil (Dalm. 66.1, 70.9.),
e. g. IpD N. xiii. 17, pD G. xxxv. 1, '•pD N. xxi. 18, ^if
D. xx. 6, pan'1 E. xxxii. 1, ^ilD^ D. xxix. 17.

278 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
(2) Assimilated in pD N. xiii.31, pDK E. xxxii. 38,
TpDK G. viii. 20.
h. In Sam. b is dropped in the Imv. Peal of ]br\ and
p^D e. g., ^HK G. xxviii. 2, lpID N. xxxiii. 17, pD G.
xxxv. 1 ; but ''p'jD N. xxi. 18. It is assimilated in pDKG. viii.
20, pDD E. xix. 23.
i. In Syriac (see Noldeke § § 29 and 183 (5)) the first ^
is not pronounced in K^DD and K^tOD' and falls away in
some forms of ^TK and in the Peal and Aphel of p^D.
j. In Mandean we have pXD'O, pKDJ>, pKD^D, p^DK, pDKD,
pKD, i^D.
From the above collection of facts as to the manner of writ
ing Lomadh we find that it is assimilated backwards in all the
forms of Peal and Aphel perfect and imperfect which have a
preformative. Unfortunately, such forms are found only in
Daniel, Onkelos, Syriac, Mandean and Samaritan. Daniel is
peculiar in inserting a dissimilative Nun in the infinitive of the
causative active stem of this verb.
Further, Daniel agrees with the Egypto-Aramaic in re
taining the Lomadh in forms of "]bft in which the preforma
tive is Mem.
5. Use of d and z. The primitive Semitic seems to have
had three sounds corresponding to our d, dh, and z. From
whatever source they adopted their alphabet there seem to
have been but two signs to express the three sounds. One of
these signs was used exclusively to denote d and another to
denote z. There being no sign for the third sound, three
methods were followed. The Arabs invented a third sign.
Hebrew, Ethiopic and Babylonian expressed dh prevailingly
by the z sign but sometimes by the d sign. The old Aramean
inscriptions of Northern Syria and of Assyria from the 9th
to the 7th century inclusive always use z. The Palmyrene,
the Syriac and the Targums of Onkelos and Jonathan always
use d. The Aramaic papyri use either with almost equal fre
quency. The Samaritan Targum and the Mandean dialect
also, vary in their use even in writing the same words. The
earliest Nabatean inscription, dating from 70 B.C. (CIS
1 349) always uses z, but all the other inscriptions regularly
use d. In the Assyrian transliterations of Aramean names

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 279
as early as 855 B.C., Hadadezer is rendered by Dad-idri.
Daniel and Ezra always use d for this sound except in Ezra's
writing of "12U where Daniel has 1313.
This variety of sign to express the same original sound
would seem to confirm the opinion that we have here to deal
not with a linguistic or dialectic change of sound but with
the endeavor to compel two signs to serve for three sounds.
The Arabic denotes it by putting a dot over the ordinary
sign for d. The other dialects avail themselves of the usual
sign for d or z, just as we English avail ourselves of the
sigh th in thin and that. The oldest Arameans consistently
used z. The book of Daniel, if written in the latter part of
the 6th century B.C., would be the first known document to
use the sign d for dh. Being an educated man the author
used it consistently and exclusively. After his time, the
writers in Egypt and the Samaritans and Nabateans wavered
in their usage ; but the Targums and those books whose writ
ers were under the influence of Daniel came to use d exclus
ively. The Arabs not being under this influence pursued their
own way of expressing dh. In studying this difficult question
we must keep two matters in mind ; first, that Daniel had stud
ied both Hebrew and Babylonian and in each of these dh was
written by means of both d and z; and secondly, that somebody
must have started this spelling reform and Daniel's position
would have enabled him to do it.
6. Use of Mem and Nun. These two letters vary in the
different languages and dialects of the Semitic family in the
absolute masc. plural of the noun and in the second and third
personal pronouns. The latter only enters into the discussion
of Daniel because he always uses the forms kon and hon
where some other Aramaic dialects use kum and hum, or hon
and kon. The question is : Can the book of Daniel have been
written in the 6th century B.C. and yet have used n instead of
m in these cases? We think it can.
(1) Because all Aramaic documents of any age written in
the East have used n instead of m. This is true of everything
in Syriac, Mandean, and the Talmud as well as of Palmyrene.
(2) It is true of all documents in Assyrian and Babylonian.

280 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
(3) Ezra, whose composition Dr. Driver puts at 400 B.C.,
uses n as well as m.
(4) The Samaritans used m as well as n.
(5) While it may be said, that the Sendshirli and other
early Western documents used m in imitation of the Hebrews
and Phenicians, or in the case of the Nabateans, of the Arabs ;
so it may be said, that the eastern dialects used n in imitation
of the Assyrio-Babylonians. Ezra being composed largely of
letters between the eastern Arameans and the western uses
both. (6) The variations in the transliteration of proper names
in the use of m for n and n for m, and between mimmation
and nunnation present a problem that cannot yet be solved
and that should make us hesitate to dogmatize on the reasons
for the variations in the different dialects and languages in
the use of these letters.
(7) The earliest document outside the Scriptures and the
Assyrio-Babylonian to make use of n is the Palmyrene inscrip
tion of 21 A.D. The earliest Syriac is from 73 A.D. The
latest Nabatean inscription to use these suffixes uses the form
with m. It is dated according to Cooke (North Semitic In
scriptions p. 252) in 65 A.D. If the writer of Daniel could
have used the n in 165 B.C. in Palestine, as his critics would
have us believe, although those " in and about Palestine " were
using m, why may he not have used n in Babylon in 535 B.C.
where all in and about Babylon were using nl
7. Further use of Nun. The following uses of Nun are
to be noted.
(1) It is dropped :
a. In Daniel, li^fi iii- 26.
b. In Ezra, KB> v. 15.
c. In No. Syr", vjn CIS.1506.
d. In Eg. Ar., nn, ID, KB>. See Sach. Pap.
e. Nabatean, no form occurs.
f . Palmyrene, no form occurs.
g. In Onkelos, pis, mn. See Dalman p. 293.
h. In Syriac, pis, mn, ID, and many others. See Nol
deke pp. 22, 115.

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 281
i. In Mandean, only in 2ND, ^S, mn and pKS- Noldeke
p. 240.
j. In Sam., 3D, JinK. See Petermann pp. 8 and 34.
(2) It is assimilated :
a. In Daniel, b& iii- 6, 10, 11, p^fin iii. 5, 15, bw vi. 28,
n^niii. 29, nm^yn vi. 15, num iv. 14, 22, 29,
jji-ip ii. 6, 48, ^rariD v. 17.
b. In Ezra ^fii vii. 20, nnn vi. 5, nns v. 15, pnnno vi. 1.
c. In N. S. ]m Hadad 23 ; larv Hadad 4 ; KttfN Zakir i. 11 ;
inD"" Ner i. 9.
d. In Eg. Ar. jm CIS149 BC12 ; pjnM CIS138 B2;
pnm CIS145 B6; N3MD Sach. Pap. vi. 2, 7, 11, 12.
e. In Nabatean [«n]lDD Litt. i. 3; nnns CIS, 1584.
f. In Pal. p£K Tnb43, p3«D Tn ci2; SDK Vog. 74,
pDD Ti8, ]n-> Tn aS, b20, pnmiD Eph. 11 278s, nnK
id. 298s.
g. In Onkelos the Nun is almost always assimilated,
except when before He or Ayin. Dal. p. 101.
h. In Syr. "almost always '', Nold. § 28, except before He.
i. In Mandean "often". pifiK, bW), Kmt? "year", Nol
deke §§ 56, 178.
j. In Sam. nj-tf, 3D''. See Petermann pp. 8 and 34.
(3) It is inserted :
a. In Daniel, jnjn iv. 22, 23, 29, 30 ; jnjN ii. 9 ; pjHJi
iv. 14; JHJD ii. 21, iv. 31, 33, v. 12; npDJn vi. 24;
tyan ii- 25 ; n^in iv. 3-
b. In Ezra, jnjn iy- IS-
c. In N. S. No examples.
d. In Eg. Ar. DJH3D Sach. often; jnja Sach. 43.1. 5;
133D Sach. ix. 17, ii. 28, 3R27 ; IBJ^ Sach, ter.
e. In Nab. No examples.
f. In Pal. No examples.
g. In Onkelos. Only in p;tjn Ex. xxxii. 19. SeeDalman,
p. 102.
h. In Syr. only in K"D3J ; but " Nun stroked out later ",
Noldeke §28.
i. In Man. "manchmal", and especially ndiox dd, ng for
gg, mb for bb. Noldeke, §68.

282 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
j. In Sam. apparently never. The so-called Nun epen
thetic is not an insertion. See Petermann, p. 9.
(4) It is epenthetic :
a. Always with the impf. before suffixes. Marti §52b.
b. Always with the impf. before suffixes, id.
c. In N. S. T^HTdl Had. 31 ; but, ntSTiDi? without Nun
in the same line, nJD3mi Zakir 11 20.
d. In Eg. Ar., it is frequent, inj^pm Sak. A6 nJ^n[n]
id C3 (unsicher, Lidg). And almost always in the
Sachau papyri. (See id. p. 272).
e. In Nab. no examples have been found.
f. In Palm. n^D11 T 11. b23 ; but tmnrifi'' CI. Gan. I6-
g. In Onk., always with impf. before suffixes. See Dal-
man pp. 368-374.
h. In Syriac it is not found. See Noldeke §28.
i . In Mandean it is apparently not used. See Noldeke
§200.
j . The Samaritan often employs it. See Petermann p. 9,
and numerous examples on p. 32.
(5) It is retained at end of syllable:
a. In Dan. DSJn v. 2, ipBJfi v. 3, \rw ii. 16, n^JK iv. 9,
nran v. 20, ihibjk fi. 46, pmiK , nni«
b. In Ezra psin v. 14 bis., vi. 5, fipun iv. 22, pHHfi iv. 13,
nDWHD iv. 15, JfUD vii. 20, jnjn vii. 20, jun^ iv. 13,
pta:n vi. 9.
c. In N. S. '•mnDJ'1 Tay. 14, [pS]jm Tay. iii. 21, iW Ner.
i. 13, 1S3n Ner. i. 12.
d. In Eg. Ar., almost always. In Sayce-Cowley 34 exs ;
in Sachau pap. 34 exs. See SC, p. 18, and
Sachau p. 271.
e. In Nab., pfiji CIS.I978, ]rV CIS.197M, 1985, nnnjK
Litt. ii. 8.
f. In Palm., never in examples found.
g. In Onk., 2D3',D, SWJ, Kn^ff and before and n and y,
Dalm. p. 101, and often at end of word. id. 102, e. g.
jon for non.
h. In Syr., sn:3, KnrOtf, KWID and before He. See
Noldeke §28.

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 283
i. In Mand., n^k, Kfirw, Kny*ID, ««ij. See Noldeke
Gr. p. 52.
j. In Sam. pfijn, and often. See Pet. p. 35.
It will be noted that so far as examples are found there is an
exact agreement in the use of Nun between Daniel and the
North Syrian and Egypto-Aramaic. The latter is in perfect
agreement with Daniel in every one of the five particulars.
The examples of the uses of Nun are extremely rare in the
Nabatean and Palmyrene, so that no comparison can be made.
The agreement in the Onkelos is close, but an agreement for
a late date and a " near alliance " of the dialect of Onkelos
with that of Daniel loses its force in view of the like close
agreement between the dialect of Daniel and that of the in
scriptions of Northern Syria and of Egypt.
8. Use of Sodhe, 'Ayin and Qoph. The fact that Daniel
writes the word for " earth, land " with an 'Ayin instead of a
Qoph is taken by Dr. Driver as a positive proof that " the
Aramaic of Daniel was not that spoken at Babylon in Daniel's
age ". In support of this position he cites the fact that in
CIS 1-4, 7, 11, 28, 35 from Nineveh and in Clay's Aramaic
Endorsements, Nos. 5, 8, 11, 29, 40 from Babylon the word
is written KplK and in Daniel KJPlK- He might have added,
that in the Sendshirli inscriptions in like manner this is
the case not merely for this word but for two others ; and that
the inscription from Zakir, also writes 'arqa. Further, he
might have said that in some of the Aramaic papyri from
Egypt the word is written with a Qoph.
But, he should have added, also, in order that we should
have a fair statement of the case, first, that the papyri of the
5th century B.C. have already begun to write this word with an
*Ayin. Some of them use 'Ayin alone, as for example, the
Sachau papyri and Sayce-Cowley A and G. Some use Qoph
alone, as C, D, E, of Sayce-Cowley and B uses both.
Secondly, it might be added that the papyri also write
KIDp for IDS "wool" and pj> for J>J> Bib. Aram. J>K as
also both piy and J71J? where the Targum and Syriac have
]TlK " to meet ".
Thirdly, it should be added that the Targum of Onkelos
writes pTJH where the Syriac has plpl*

284 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
Fourthly, that the Nabatean inscription of El-Hejra A.D.I.
has Dip for the Phoenician and Hebrew tMJ? " fine ".
Fifthly, that the Samaritan Targum has IJ?"1 (e. g. Lev.
ix. 10) where the Syriac has Ipi . Further, it often writes
pop for j;db\
Sixthly, the Mandean writings (6th to 9th cent. A.D.) still
write KplK* They also write KIDpK for IDS, KISKpK for ISP,
KJpK for KJKJ? = jKX (See Noldeke Mand. Gram. p. 72) ; but
they use the Hebrew spelling for pj? " tree ".
Seventhly, in the Aramaic verse in Jeremiah (x. 11) both
writings of the word for earth occur.
Eighthly, Ezra always uses 'Ayin just as Daniel does.
From the above statements it will be seen that Qoph was
used to denote this sound from the 9th century B.C. to the
9th century A.D., and 'Ayin from the 5th century to the
present. It is true that if Daniel were written in the 6th
century B.C., it will have been the first record known in which
'Ayin was used. But it must be borne in mind, first, that in
the 5th century Ezra also uses it always just as Daniel does;
secondly, that in the same century the Aramaic papyri use
both; thirdly, that there may have been two uses side by side
at Babylon in the 6th century B.C. as well as at Syene in the
5th ; and lastly, that someone must have used this writing first,
and why not Daniel?
9. Use of Other Letters. With regard to the letters, Teth,
Tau, Shin, Sin and Samekh, it is only necessary to say that
they are written in general in the same way as in the Aramaic
papyri and in Ezra, both from the 5th century B.C.
II. Forms and Inflections
1. With regard to the pronouns of Daniel, it may be said,
that with the exception that dh is written with Dolath instead
of with Zayin, they agree more closely in writing, form and
inflection with those of the old Aramaic dialects found in the
papyri and in the inscriptions of Syria than they do with those
of the later inscriptions and Targums, or with those of the
Syriac, Mandean and Samaritan documents.
2. With regard to the nouns, also, not merely in the forms

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 285
found but in the way they are written and in the inflection,
they show an almost exact resemblance to the Northern Syrian
inscriptions from the 9th to the 7th century B.C., and to
the nouns found in the Egyptian papyri from the 5th cen
tury B.C.
3. With respect to the particles, the dialects differ so much
both in the character and number of the particles used and in
the meanings attached to them, that we shall have to postpone
treatment of them to another time. Suffice it to say that with
regard to the writing, forms, inflection and use, of those found
in Daniel there is no good reason for supposing that they may
not have characterized a dialect written at Babylon in the
6th century B.C.
4. With regard to the verbs used in Daniel, we shall go
more into particulars. Next to the spelling of words in gen
eral the forms of the verbs and the spelling of them are made
by Dr. Driver the principal ground upon which he bases his
conclusion that the Aramaic of Daniel is late.
As to agreements in forms, all of the old Aramaic dialects,
from the earliest to the old Syriac and Mandean inclusive,
have the three active stems Peal, Paal, and Aphel or Haphal,
and the two reflective or passive stems Ethpeel and Ethpaal,
varying mostly only in certain particulars of spelling. We
shall not go into these variations except as it is necessary to
make clear the three points specified by Dr. Driver in LOT
p. 504.
a. His first point is, that the imperfect of Lomadh Aleph
verbs in Nabatean and in the Palmyrene Tariff is found with
Aleph and not with Yodh. The inference that we are intended
to draw is, that inasmuch as Daniel has in like manner Aleph
and not Yodh, therefore it is from the same region and age.
But, first, while it is true that Yodh alone has thus far been
found in the inscriptions antedating 600 B.C. as the con
cluding consonant of Lomadh He verbs, it is questionable if
they should be brought into this comparison. For in Egypto-
Aramaic, the forms ending in Yodh are all apparently Jussive
forms, (See Sachau p. 270) and these forms are carefully
distinguished from the forms ending in He which are the
regular indicative forms. In the Sendshirli inscriptions also,

286 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
three of the forms are also certainly Jussives, one of them oc
curring with the negative 'al as in the Sachau papyri ; and the
fourth follows a Wau that is probably a Wau conversive,
since it follows a perfect and is used in the same sense. Fol
lowing the analogy of the Hebrew, which uses the Jussive,
or a form like it, after Wau conversive, we would classify
this fourth imperfect in the Hadad inscription as a Jussive
also. The use of a Wau conversive in the Aramaic of the
Hadad inscription is rendered probable by its certain use in
the Zakir inscription, where we have 1DK',1, KDK1 and ''Jijm*
The forms in Yodh of the early inscriptions being thus
ruled out of the discussion, we find that the Egypto-Aramaic
except in the Jussive employs consistently a He at the end of
the imperfect of Lomadh He verbs and Aleph at the end of
Lomadh Aleph verbs; whereas Daniel employs Aleph usually
for both and exceptionally He for both. Nabatean goes one
step further and never employs anything but Aleph for both.
The Palmyrene Tariff uses He once; but everywhere else,
both in the Tariff and elsewhere uses Aleph. The Aramaic
of the Targums and Talmud has uniformly a Yodh at the
end. The Syriac as uniformly has Aleph, while the Mandean
has Yodh followed by Aleph. The Samaritan commonly em
ploys Yodh, but He is occasionally found.
From all which it appears: First, that the only Aramaic
that employs He at the end of its Lomadh He verbs in the
imperfect is the Aramaic that was written by Jews, or those
directly influenced by Jews, such as the Aramaic papyri of
Egypt, and the works of Daniel and Ezra. The few sporadic
cases of its employment in Samaritan and the one instance of
its use in Palmyrene may be attributed to the same influence.
Secondly, it appears that Yodh was used by the Arameans
who lived and wrote in Palestine after Ezra's time as is evi
dent from the usage of the Jewish Targums and of the Tal
mud and of the Samaritans. It was used, also, by the Jews
who wrote the Babylonian Talmud; and in the forms of the
imperfect used in the Hadad inscription from Northern Syria.
Thirdly, Aleph was, with the one exception in Palmyrene noted
above, the universal ending in the dialects between Palestine
and Syria on the one hand and the Mandeans on the other,

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 287
i. e., among the Nabateans, the Palmyrenes, and the so-called
Syrians. Fourthly, the Mandeans used both at once and to
gether, i. e. a Yodh followed by an Aleph. Fifthly, Daniel
being in the central country between the two extremes may well
have used Aleph, as all other dialects in the central zone have
done, his exceptional use of He being due to Hebrew influence.
b. Dr. Driver's second point is, that the Aramaic of Daniel
is late, because a Hophal has been discovered in the Palmyrene
Tariff, written in 137 A.D. He might have added, because
another is found in the Targum of Onkelos, and two in the
Jerusalem Targum I. (See Dalman p. 253). These last are
probably not mentioned by him because they are so sporadic
and obviously due to Hebrew influence. As to the first point,
it may be said,
(1) That it is doubtful if there be a Hophal form in the
Tariff. The words STD"1 and pP may be otherwise ex
plained in perfect harmony with common Aramaic usage, and
are so explained by Duval and Cooke. If 1tt>K be a passive
of the causative stem and not the active, it is formed rather
after the analogy of the Arabaic 4th stem than after that of
the Hebrew, or Bib. Aramaic Hophal. Our readers will no
tice that these verbal forms are without any vowel, or other
points that distinguish species or stem. Whether they be
Hophals or not depends upon the pointing that you insert.
(2) That in this same Tariff, we find the Ittaphal used
six times in the passive of the causative stem. Now, it is a
noteworthy fact that no dialect that uses the Hophal uses the
Ittaphal also, and vice versa. The Sendshirli inscriptions have
the Hophal once in the participle DD'D from HID • Daniel
has the Hophal of nine verbs in eleven different forms. Ezra
has but one Hophal. But none of these three dialects (or
two, if you put Ezra in the same dialect with Daniel) has an
Ittaphal. On the other hand, the Aramaic of the Talmud and Tar
gums, of the Palmyrene inscriptions, of Syriac and Mandean,
and Samaritan, employs the Ittaphal to the entire exclusion of
the Hophal or Ophal, unless these unpointed Palmyrene words
be treated as such. The Targum of Onkelos has 20 verbs in
the Ittaphal and not one case of the Hophal, unless a variant

288 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
reading in Ex. xix. 13 be classed as such (See Dalman Gram.
der jud.-pal. Aram. § § 59.6 and 64).
(3) If it is right for Dr. Driver to make as much as he
does of the agreements between Daniel and the Nabatean and
Palmyrene inscriptions as regards the writing of Aleph and
He in certain forms in order to prove that they are or may
have been written near the same time, it is no more than fair
to suggest that the fact that Daniel uses a Hophal while in
Palmyrene we find an Ophal might better be regarded as
supporting the theory that the two dialects were spoken at
different dates. In fact, since the bulk of the population of
Palmyra was Arab and since many proper names, especially
of gods, and several common names of Arabic origin appear
in their literature, we might expect to find in the Palmyrene
traces of Arabic grammatical usages. (Cooke N. S. Insc. p.
264). This 1tPK might indeed be the passive of the 4th
stem 'ushira and be due to Arabaic influence; just as the Hop-
hals in Daniel and the Niphals in Samaritan are due to He
brew influence.
The relations of the dialects, so far as the forms of the
verbs are concerned, will be best seen from the series of tables
to be found in the Appendix. From these tables it will ap
pear that no two dialects agree exactly in the forms used by
them. As to forms in general it appears that Daniel agrees
more nearly with Ezra and Egypto-Aramaic than with any
later dialects. As to the Hophal, the possible use of one form
of it in Pal. and Onk. is offset by the certain use of the Hophal
in Ezra and its probable use in Hadad 24 and 26.
c. Dr. Driver uses the fact that JYTOJ? , the third singular
feminine perfect passive, is found in CIS 196:7, a Nabatean
inscription from 37 A.D., to show that Daniel may have
been written late. We, also, think that this is a perfect
passive ; though in regard to the other example cited, the 31"0
of the Palmyrene Tariff, we agree with Prof. Cooke (NSI p.
334), that it is not necessary to treat it as a passive, whether
Pual, or Peil. We do think, however, that it would have
been right for Dr. Driver to have cited the Samaritan fODJ
the translation in Gen. iii. 19 of the Hebrew nnp1? "was

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 289
taken"; as also the flTHK of Meg. Taan. (See Dalman
P- 253)-
But that our readers, most of whom are not specialists,
may be able to estimate these facts at their true value in their
relation to the question of the date of Daniel, it may be well
to add, that not merely Ezra but the Aramaic papyri also, make
use of this form. Ezra has "DW in v. 14 and the Sachau
papyri have l^BD in i. 17 and ii. 15, nmD^ in 56 V.1.1;
Ofi^Kty in SC, 11 8; all of which are certainly true Peil
forms. Prof. Sachau adds further the forms 7,|Dp , TO? ,
3VD , and n^ty . So that while admitting that this perfect
passive may have been written late, the arguments from
analogy and from frequency of use are decidedly in favor of
an early date, inasmuch as Ezra and the Aramaic papyri are
admittedly from the 5th century B.C. Further, the argument
that the late isolated forms (one each in Nabatean, Samaritan
and the Talmud) may have been used through imitation of,
or under the influence of, the Arabic, which forms its pas
sive regularly in this way, cannot be used with regard to the
Aramaic of Egypt in the 5th century B.C.
d. The third plural of the feminine of the perfect ends in
Wau in Daniel v. 5, vii. 20 and also in Nabatean in Cooke
80:1 and 85 :i.
It is well known that in Hebrew the one form l^Dp serves
for the third feminine plural as well as for the masculine.
In Daniel, this usage may have been derived from the He
brew. Unfortunately, the old Aramaic inscriptions have no
example of the feminine plural of the perfect.
The best possible explanations of the form VT2J? in Naba
tean are (1) that, like the Hebrew, there was no feminine
form, or (2) that the sculptor followed the common manner
in other inscriptions, where the masculine form is always
used, or (3) that he used the masculine, because the nearest
noun in each of the two cases is masculine in form, although
the name of a woman.
The Sachau papyri, however, give us one form of the femi
nine plural imperfect and it agrees with the form in Daniel.
I refer to pIT . p. 169 of Sachau's papyri. This is exactly
like the \i2VP of Dan. iv. 18. The Nabatean gives us but

290

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL

one example of the imperfect third plural feminine and
it has the same form as the masculine, i. e. pi3pm (See
Cooke NSI p. 221 and p. 240).
It will be noticed, that the Qre in Daniel has corrected the
ending 1 to nT , in all cases in the perfect where it has a
feminine subject. This . harmonizes the form with that in use
in the Assyrian and in the Targums of Onkelos and Jonathan.
In the Jerusalem Targum, the third feminine perfect plural
ends in an; in Syriac in en or a silent Yodh, or the ending
has disappeared; in Mandean, in JK11 or K, but usually the
ending has entirely disappeared ; in Samaritan, in ^ . p . or } .
To sum up, the third feminine plural in the Kethiv of
Daniel agrees with the form found in Nabatean, and the Qre
agrees with the forms found in the Targums of Onkelos and
Jonathan. The third feminine imperfect plural in Daniel agrees with
that found in the Sachau papyri but differs from that found
in Nabatean. In this case, all the other dialects agree with
Daniel, the Nabatean standing alone.
e. The Nun, says Dr. Driver, is retained in the imperfect
of Pe Nun verbs in the Nabatean just as in Daniel. A more
exact statement of the case would be, that the Nun has been
retained in all of the examples of the imperfect of Pe Nun
verbs thus far found in Nabatean, agreeing in this respect
with the comparatively few examples found in Daniel where
Nun is not assimilated. A fuller statement of the facts with
regard to the writing of Nun in all the dialects will give our
readers an opportunity of judging for themselves as to the re
lation in this regard between the Aramaic of Daniel and of
the other dialects.
1. As to the retention of a Nun in the imperfect of verbs
Pe Nun, Daniel retains once only, Nabatean always, whereas
Daniel assimilates eight times and Nabatean never. In Ezra,
the Nun is retained three times, assimilated once. In Northern
Aramaic (Sendshirli et al.) Nun is retained four times, assimi
lated four. In Egypto-Aramaic, Nun is retained about sev
enty times, assimilated about three. In Palmyrene, it is assimi
lated almost always, except before He or Ayin. In Samaritan,
Nun is often retained, but most frequently assimilated. In

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 291
Syriac it is assimilated almost always and in Mandean often.
2. Nun is inserted often in Daniel and Mandean and not in
frequently in Egypto-Aramaic; never in Nabatean, Palmyrene
and Samaritan, nor in the North Syrian inscriptions ; in Onke
los, Ezra, and Syriac, in only one word for each. Daniel here
agrees on the one hand with the dialect nearest his own time
and on the other with that nearest to Babylon.
3. In regard to dropping the Nun in the imperative Peal,
all of the dialects in which imperatives are found agree. No
examples have been found in Nabatean or Palmyrene.
4. In regard to Nun epenthetic, it is always found with the
imperfect before suffixes in Daniel, Ezra, and Onkelos ; never
in Syriac and Mandean and there are no examples of it in
Nabatean ; nearly always in the North Syrian inscriptions and
in Egypto-Aramaic and in Samaritan; and once in Palmyrene
and once not.
f. Dr. Driver suggests that Daniel may be late because the
word for " there is " is written the same way in Nabatean as
in Daniel, i. e. TPK • This he says to overthrow the supposi-i
tion that Daniel cannot be late because Onkelos has rPK • A
fuller statement with regard to TT'K may be made so as to
avoid misunderstandings. The long form is used in Daniel
without suffixes, ten times; in Ezra, twice; in Sayce-Cowley,
fifteen times ; in Sachau papyri, six times ; in Nabatean, twice.
The short form is used in the Targums always; in Palmyrene
once (the only time found) ; in Syriac and Mandean always ; in
Egypto-Aramaic once only. (i. e. in Sachau xxxi. 3).
g. Dr. Driver might well have added to his collection of
similarities in the use of verb forms between the Nabatean and
Daniel the remarkable fact that each of them has but one
Shaphel form and that from the same root, i. e., 3W
Cooke No. 101 :i2 (or 5W in one other insc. Duss and
Macleane, No. 62). To be sure, this form is found in other
late dialects, but not from this verb exclusively. The Gali
lean dialect has also *nj?B>, WW and iftbw. Onkelos
has all of these and in addition b^2W and 2nbw ¦ The
Targum of Jonathan adds DDJW and mm. The Jeru
salem Targums use seven additional forms. The Syriac has
at least twelve of these forms; the Mandean, six; and the

292 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
Modern Syriac, four. Besides these, we find half a dozen
forms in New Hebrew.
In the Bible, Ezra has the form from two verbs, to wit
WW and bb^W .
Fortunately, the form WW the only one that Daniel
employs, is found also in the old Aramaic inscriptions and it
is the only form yet found. It occurs in the Sachau papyri
xxxxii. 14, xii. 5 and 56 obv. i. 6. So that the use of this
form in Aramaic documents can now be traced back to a
time when men who may have known Daniel were still living.
h. Dr. Driver might also have mentioned the fact that the
preformative He in the causative stem, which Daniel employs
so often, is no evidence of an early date, because it is found,
also, in Nabatean in the form D^pn CIS 161. 1.1 and 349.2.
To be sure, he may have thought this to be unnecessary, be
cause Onkelos also has He in the causative of the verb to
know (JJTin) and in the borrowed Hebrew word pen ¦ As
we, however, think that Daniel's use of He in this form is
one of the strongest proofs of its early date, we shall present
the facts as to the preformative of the causative stem in the
Aramaic dialects.
1. The Syriac and Palmyrene always have Aleph.
2. The early inscriptions of Zakir, Sendshirli and Assyria
and the Aramaic papyri always have He.
3. The Nabatean always has Aleph except in two cases, both
from the same verb; the Targum of Onkelos has Aleph in
scores of cases, He in but two verbs, one of them certainly
borrowed from the Hebrew; the Mandean uses He nearly al
ways, Aleph only occasionally; the Samaritan usually has
Aleph, but sometimes He; the Targum of Jonathan uses He
in the one form JJSin and the Jerusalem Targums have He
in eight or nine verbs, manifestly under the influence of He
brew, as is doubtless the case in the Samaritan also.
4. Ezra has Aleph once only and He everywhere else.
5. Daniel has Aleph but twice and He in numerous in
stances. It will thus be seen, that in this respect, the usage of Daniel
is decidedly with the earlier dialects and against the later ones.

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 293

III. Syntax
We shall not have space here to discuss fully the syn
tactical relation of Daniel to the other dialects. As an ex
ample of the importance of this subject in determining the
dialectical affinities, we shall mention only the manner of de
noting the accusative.
1. All of the dialects agree in that they employ no particle
before the indefinite direct object and in that they frequently
omit it before the definite direct object as well.
2. Regarding the use of the particles, the following points
are to be noticed :
a. Daniel, the Egyptian papyri, the Syriac and the Man
dean, frequently employ Lomadh before the definite direct ob
ject, but not without many variations of usage one from
the other, especially in the case of the Mandean. The Zakir,
Sendshirli and Nabatean inscriptions never employ Lomadh
with the direct object, and Palmyrene but once only. Ezra and
the Samaritan seldom employ it. Onkelos sometimes uses it,
but preceded by a pronominal suffix after the verb. In this
respect it agrees with the common usage in the Mandean.
b. The Zakir inscription always uses JVK before the defi
nite direct object except when it is accompanied by a dem
onstrative pronoun.
Onkelos, the Samaritan, and the Nabatean often use it
(writtenm). Palmyrene, Daniel and the Sendshirli inscriptions have it
once each.
In Syriac it is seldom employed, and then mostly in the
Bible to render the Hebrew DK .
Ezra, the Egyptian papyri, and the Mandean, never employ
it. It will be seen from the above that in respect to the use of
Lomadh Daniel disagrees with all the dialects with which Dr.
Driver says it is " nearly allied ", and that it agrees most
nearly with the Egypto-Aramaic, the one written just about
the time that Daniel is said to have lived, and with the Syriac

294

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL

and Mandean, that were written in the regions the nearest to
Babylon. With regard to the use of m as the sign of the definite
object, Daniel employs it but once. In this respect he differs
decidedly from Onkelos and the Nabatean, and agrees most
nearly with the Sendshirli of the 8th century B.C., and with
the Palmyrene. That it is employed so frequently in the
earliest of all the inscriptions, that of Zakir and also in the
Sendshirli, permits of its use by Daniel in the 6th century B.C.
IV. Vocabulary
In discussing the vocabulary of Daniel we shall consider in
order the relation that it bears to the vocabularies of Onkelos,
the Nabateans, the Palmyrenes, and the Targum of Jonathan.
a. Onkelos. As a matter of fact, the vocabulary of Daniel
is not " nearly allied " to that of Onkelos as will sufficiently
appear from the following evidence which the writer has se
lected from a large number of similar proofs.
i . Let us call up the testimony of the verbs employed in the
two dialects to denote the idea " to put, to set ".
Daniel employs WW ten times in this sense. It is the only
word used by him to express this idea. Ezra uses it sixteen
times; Zakir four times; Sendshirli, four; Nerab, three; the
Sachau papyri, thirteen times; and Teima, once. Onkelos
never uses it but once for certain (Ler. 1914) and perhaps in
one other place (Gen. 1. 26) where the text is disputed.
This is most noteworthy inasmuch as W*W " to put " occurs
in the Hebrew Pentateuch 151 times and SVW of like meaning,
eighteen times. The common word in Onkelos to render these
words is Nlff by which he translates the Hebrew WW 130
times and SVW fourteen times. The Hebrew WW he renders
also by KJD twelve times; KIP and TTD three times each; 1H,
"Tip and 1DK once each. The Hebrew rvw he renders also by
KJD, 3m, and 31J? once each. The one time that Onkelos
does use D^W (Lev. xix. 14), it is a translation of pO-
Further, it should be remarked with regard to WW -. that
neither the Targum of Jonathan, nor the Nabatean nor the
Palmyrene uses it at all.

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 295
And again, it should be observed, that in Syriac and Man
dean, both belonging to what is called Eastern Aramaic, WW
is the ordinary verb for " to put " just as it is in the North
Syrian and Egypto-Aramaic inscriptions and in Ezra and
Daniel. Again, it should be observed on the other hand, that Daniel
does use Kit? twice (iii. 29, v. 21), but never in the sense in
which it is employed in Onkelos. In Onkelos it always means
" to set, to put, to make " ; but in Daniel it means " to be or
make like ". This meaning in Daniel is like that found in the
Egypto-Aramaic, the Syriac, and the Mandean, where the
primary meaning was " to be at par ", " to be equal to " ; hence,
" to be worth " in a business sense and " to be worthy " or
" to agree " in a moral sense. It is so used seven times in the
SC papyri and frequently in both Syriac and Mandean.
Finally, of the other eight verbs which Onkelos uses to
translate WW and IVW Daniel employs all but TTD and 1DK ; but
all of them only and always in a sense different entirely
from that in which they are employed in Onkelos as a render
ing for the two Hebrew words for " to put ", except in the
case of the one word 12J? which Onkelos uses for WW but
once and for rw not at all. Thus nJD is used in Daniel
in the sense of " to number " (three times), Pa. " to appoint "
(three times). So also in Dan. vii. 25, X1P "to loose"
(five times) ; 1TJ " to cut out ", (twice) ; am " to give,
deliver over" (twenty times, in Ezra eight times) ; a*lj? "to
mix", (four times).
We hope our readers will peruse the preceding paragraphs
twice at least, that they may fully appreciate the data therein
presented. Here is an idea for the expression of which the
Hebrew Pentateuch uses two words 169 times. That one of
these two words which the Hebrew employs 151 times is ren
dered in Onkelos by a word that is never used in this sense
in Daniel, whereas Daniel uses to denote the idea the same
word that is found in Hebrew. Further, the Targum of Jona
than, the Nabatean, and the Palmyrene agree with Onkelos in
not using D*W while the old inscriptions on the one hand and
the eastern dialects on the other, agree with Daniel in using it
and also in their use of KW. Lastly, of the eight other words

296 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
found in Onkelos to render WW and mtP, Daniel uses six,
but only one of them in a sense that might be deemed equiva
lent to that of the verb " to put ".
If we had space, we would like to add a number of other
demonstrations of like character with the above, some of
which would be almost or quite as convincing. We hope that
this one will be sufficient to make the reader pause at least for
further light upon the subject before accepting the statement
that the Aramaic of Daniel is " nearly allied " to that of On
kelos. 2. Not merely, however, in the pure Aramaic words em
ployed, but also in the foreign words that are found in them,
do the dialectical differences between Daniel and Onkelos ap
pear. (1) Daniel uses three words which seem to be Greek.
These words are names of musical instruments, and things of
this kind nearly always even to this day bear names which indi
cate more or less definitely the source, national or personal,
from which they came. We are not going to discuss at this
time the possibility of Greek words having been found in
Aramaic in the 6th century B.C. We shall only remark in
this connection, that Prof. Sachau thinks he has discovered
three Greek words and one Latin one in the papyri of the 5th
century B.C. But, when comparing the vocabulary of Daniel
with that of Onkelos with which it is said to be " closely al
lied ", the great question is not how does it happen that there
are three Greek words in Daniel, but rather why are there no
more than three. Dalman in his Grammar of the Jewish-
Palestinian Aramaic, pages 184-187, gives a list of twenty-
five Greek nouns that occur in Onkelos. On page 183, he
gives two denominative verbs found in Onkelos that are de
rived from Greek nouns that had been taken over into the
dialect of the people from among whom the Targum origi
nated. Moreover, these Greek words do not all occur in one
section and in one phrase as in Daniel, but they are scattered
all through the Pentateuch from the first chapter of Genesis
to the latter part of Deuteronomy. These words do not de
note articles of commerce merely, as is the case in Daniel, but
governmental, geographical, and scientific terms, such as could

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 297
have come into use only after the conquest of Alexander. So
that, as far as Greek words are concerned, the dialect of
Onkelos differs from that of Daniel :
a. In the number of words that occur.
b. In the frequency of their occurrence.
c. In that they are scattered through the whole book in
one case and confined to a single section and phrase in the
other. d. In that one borrows names of musical instruments mere
ly, whereas the other has borrowed names of stuffs, stones,
colors, and geographical, commercial, governmental and scien
tific terms. In Daniel, such borrowed terms are prevailingly
Babylonian and Persian, never Greek.
e. In that the dialect of Onkelos has verbalized two Greek
nouns at least, whereas all of Daniel's verbs are Aramaic
(or Hebrew), except one, and 1 it is Babylonian.
(2) The Aramaic of Daniel, according to Dr. Driver, has
thirteen Persian words. We think this estimate is probably
correct. The Targum of Onkelos, however, has but five Per
sian words. The most common of these, DSfiS, occurs in the
Hebrew of Esther and Ecclesiastes, once in each, and
four times in the Aramaic of Ezra and twice in that of Daniel.
Another, ptSHS, occurs also in the Hebrew of Ezra once and
in the Aramaic three times. In Onkelos, it occurs only in
Deut. xvii. 18. The other three are found in Onkelos once
each. The Egyptian papyri have ten to fifteen Persian com
mon names besides a large number of proper names. Ezra
has at least ten. The Greek and Babylonian writers of the
Persian period have also a large number of persian words (See
Prof. John D. Davis in the Harper Memorial Volume). The
Nabatean, on the other hand, has no Persian word and the
Palmyrene only one common name (from 264 A.D.) and one
proper name (from 125 A.D.) In the Targum of Jonathan
there are but a very few Persian words.
So that in regard to the Persian words employed, Daniel is
seen to agree with the writings from the Persian period, and
not as Dr. Driver suggests with the Targums of Onkelos and
Jonathan and with the Nabatean and Palmyrene inscriptions.
(3) An important element in the vocabulary of Daniel, to

298 THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL
which, however, Dr. Driver pays no attention, are the Babylon
ian words contained in it. The lately discovered documents of
this once important language have enabled us to explain a
number of words as of genuine Semitic origin, which were
formerly supposed to be of Persian origin, or to be Aramaic
words peculiar to Daniel. Of the former kind are many proper
names such as Ashpenaz, Beltshazzar, Abednego and others.
Of the latter class are jWK , VT, nwn , C\WK, WW, 7fD, and
perhaps "pi and pm ¦ Of these Babylonian words, Ezra has
about eight common names and a number of proper ones, such
as Sheshbazzar and Zerubbabel. The Egypto-Aramaic, also,
is rich in Babylonian terms of both kinds, there being from
eleven to sixteen Babylonian common names and a large num
ber of proper names in the Sayce-Cowley papyri alone.
On the other hand, the Targum of Onkelos has probably
only six or seven words of Babylonian origin and all of them
are found in, and perhaps most if not all of them derived by,
Onkelos from the Babylonian through the earlier works of
Daniel and Ezra.
b. Vocabulary of the Nabateans. It is impossible for the
writer to conceive how anyone who had read the Nabatean
inscriptions could assert that, so far as vocabulary is concerned,
the language is " nearly allied " to that of Daniel. Take for
the sake of comparison with Daniel the El Hejra inscription of
A.D.I (Cooke p. 220). There are sixty-three words in this
inscription. Fourteen of these are proper names, of which
one is the name of a place, one of a month, five the names of
gods, and seven the names of persons. All of these are Arabic
except the name of the month Tebeth which is Babylonian.
There are forty-nine other words, twenty-five of which are
found in Daniel. But of these three are pronouns and eleven
are particles. The five verbs are 12]} , ]r)i , ana , pSJ and pT,
to which may be added Tl^K " there is ", all of which are
found in Egypto-Aramaic and all but pT in Ezra. They are
found in Syriac, Mandean, and all in Onkelos, except
pT (one or two derivatives of which are found, however).
Palmyrean, also, has all of them. The nouns are 5]7K , m ,
nm , TMW , and ^J7D , all words that are found in Babylonian and
Hebrew as well as in Egypto-Aramaic and all later Aramaic

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 299
dialects. As to the twenty-four words that are not found in
Daniel five are Arabic nouns and two are Arabic verbs, i. e.,
Arabaic roots in Aramaic forms. Moreover one word is pos
sibly Babylonian and one possibly Latin ; six are particles, one
of which is probably Arabic; one is of doubtful origin and
meaning; and the others are the words for " nine ", " self ",
"posterity", "daughter", "good", "love", and for "to
bury ".
This is a fair sample of the longest and most distinctively
Nabatean inscription. Occasionally, we meet with a Greek
word, or even a Latin word, and there is possibly one Babylon
ian word, but there are no Persian words and no Hebrew
ones. The distinctive feature of this dialect is its Arabisms.
We leave the intelligent reader to form his own judgment as
to whether the Nabatean dialect is " nearly allied " to that of
Daniel, in which there are no Arabic words, but many Hebrew,
Persian, and Babylonian ones.
c. The Vocabulary of the Palmyrenes. As an example of
the Palmyrene inscriptions, we shall give an analysis of No.
129 in Cooke's NSI. p. 249, (A.D. 264). The first line has
one Aramaic, one Latin and two Greek words; the second,
one Aramaic, two Latin, and one Persian word; the third,
one Aramaic, two Latin, and one Greek word; the fourth,
three Aramaic, one Greek, and two Arabic words; the fifth,
five Aramaic, and one Babylonian word ; the sixth, one Ara
maic word followed by the date.
We shall give also a translation of No. 127. " Septimius
Worod, most excellent (Gk) procurator (Gk) ducenarius
(Lat) which has been set up to his honor, by lulius Aurelius
Nebu-bad, son of So'adu (son of) Haira, strategos (Gk) of
the colony (Lat), his friend. The year 574 (i. e. 263 A.D.),
in the month Kislul."
Finally, we shall give a translation of No. 121. " Statue of
Julius Aurelius Zabd-ile, son of Maliku, son of Maliku, (son
of) Nassum, who was strategos (Gr) of the colony (Lat) at
the coming of the good Alexander Caesar; and he served when
Crispinus the governor was here and when he brought here
the legions (Lat) many times; and he was chief of the market
and spent money (Arab) in a most generous manner; and he

300

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL

led his life peaceably ( ?) ; on this account the good Yarhibal
has borne witness to him, and also Julius, who fosters and
loves the city; the council (Gk) and people (Gk) have set up
(this) to him to his honor. The year 554." (i. e. AD. 242-3).
The above are good examples of the composition of the
Palmyrene Aramaic dialect. Our readers will perceive that
the language is a mixture of pure Aramaic with Greek, Latin,
Arabic, and (in the case of proper names and names of
months) of Babylonian. Only one Persian word is here; but
this word is the title of a governmental official and was taken
over from the Sassanian Persians and not from the old Achae-
menids of Daniel's time.
Our readers will please notice that in the Palmyrene we
have a conglomerate of very different composition from that in
Daniel, which, as we saw above, is composed of Aramaic, He
brew, Old Persian, Babylonian and Greek (3 words) ; whereas
Palmyrene is composed of Aramaic, Greek, Arabic, Latin,
Babylonian and New Persian (one word) with no Hebrew.
We have placed the names of the languages making up the
two dialects in the order of their relative frequency of oc
currence. The reader may make his own conclusion as to
whether they are " nearly allied ".
d. The Targum of Jonathan. What we have said above
about the Targum of Onkelos is even more true of that of
Jonathan. See especially Dalman's Grammar and Levy's Dic
tionary. D. As to Dr. Driver's fourth proposition, that the Aramaic
of Daniel is " that which was spoken in or near Palestine "
and " at a date after the conquest of Palestine by Alexander
the Great ", we shall address our remarks first to the statement
that such a dialect was spoken near Palestine, and we shall
begin by asking when was it spoken near Palestine and by
whom. The only evidence we have is ( 1 ) that from the North
Syrian inscriptions, but this language is not like that of
Daniel, for it has no Persian, no Babylonian, no Greek; (2)
that from the Nabateans, but we know that they were an Arab
people speaking or at least writing Aramaic and that of a
kind, as we have seen, unlike that found in Daniel; (3) that
from the Palmyrenes, but we have seen that the language of

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 301
the Palmyrenes was not like that of Daniel; (4) that of the
Syrians, but their earliest document goes back only to 73 A.D.
and the next to 201 A.D. ; besides, as is well known, Syriac is
not written in the dialect of Daniel. In other words, there
is no evidence, that any dialect resembling Daniel's was ever
spoken by anybody near Palestine.
Nor have we any evidence from in Palestine. Dr. Driver
says that the Targums of Onkelos and Jonathan received their
present form between the 4th and 6th century A.D. Now be
tween the time of Ezra which he places in Palestine at 400
B.C. (probably c. 400 B.C., LOT p. 504) and that of the
Targums, what evidence can be produced to show what the
people living in Palestine spoke? There are no Aramaic in
scriptions from Palestine from any time. The other Targums
are certainly later than those of Onkelos and Jonathan. Be
sides, if anything earlier than these were forthcoming, we
doubt not Dr. Driver would have produced it. Of course, there
are the writings of the Samaritans ; but in the first place, they
are not written in a dialect resembling that of Daniel, and sec
ondly, no one probably would contend that they reached their
present form until long after the year 400 A.D.
But perhaps by near Palestine, Egypt might be meant.
Here, however, we are met by two serious objections to Dr.
Driver's proposition. First, the latest dated document from
Egypt is from the year 400 B.C. ; and secondly, the Aramaic
of Egypt differs in some very important respects from that of
Daniel. For example, it has no Hophal, nor is it full of
Hebrew common words as Daniel is. Besides, it has Egyp
tian words, both proper and common, and Daniel has neither.
But, perhaps, Babylon is near Palestine. We are of the
opinion that it is near enough for the dialect in which Daniel
is written to have been spoken there. This provenience and
this alone would in our opinion suit the peculiarities of the
dialect of the book of Daniel. This would account for the
absence of Egyptian words. This would account for the
Persian and Babylonian and Hebrew elements that mix in with
the pure Aramaic to form this dialect. Then, also, 150 years
after Sennacherib had conquered the Greeks of Cilicia, thirty
years after Nebuchadnezzar had conquered the Greek mer-

302

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL

cenaries of the king of Egypt, and long after he had taken
Greek hirelings into his own service, we might expect to find
the names of three Greek musical instruments in the language
spoken by probably the major part of his subjects.
But how about the Persian words? There is no difficulty
whatever about them. The children of Israel had been settled
in the cities of the Medes for almost 200 years before Daniel
is supposed to have been written. Some of these Israelites and
many of the Jews were settled in Assyria and Babylonia where
most if not all of the people spoke Aramaic. Nineveh and
northern Assyria were conquered by the Medes about 606
B.C. Here were seventy years before Daniel was written for
Israelites and Jews and Arameans to adopt Medo-Persian
words. All the witnesses from antiquity unite to prove that
the Medes and Persians were akin and spoke dialects of the
same language. The Greeks and the Hebrew prophets use
their names at times interchangeably. The proper names of
gods and persons used among them are the same, or similar.
No one can affirm with any evidence to support him that the
words in Daniel called by us Persian might not rather be
called Median. The difficulty arising from the way in which
the author of Daniel writes a few of the sounds is more than
offset by the fact that nowhere else than in Babylon at about
the year 500 B.C. could such a composite Aramaic as that
which we find therein have been written. Grammar and vo
cabulary alike can be best accounted for by supposing that the
book was written by a Jew living in Babylon at about that
time, that is, when Aramaic was the common language of the
world of commerce and diplomacy and social intercourse, when
Babylonian and Medo-Persian were contending for the uni
versal dominion over the nations, and when Greek words were
just beginning to appear in the Lingua Franca of international
commerce.

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 303

Conclusion
In conclusion, we would express the hope that we have been
able to convince our readers that in so far as philology is
concerned there is no such evidence existing as Dr. Driver
alleges, in support of the late date and western provenience of
the book of Daniel. The evidence for the early date derived
from the orthography is not as convincing in the case of every
individual letter as could be desired; but taken as a whole, it
is in favor of an early rather than of a late date. The evi
dence derived from forms and inflections and syntax is de
cidedly, and that from the vocabulary is overwhelmingly, in
favor of an early date and of an eastern provenience. What
may be called the pure Aramaic matrix of this unique con
glomerate, which we call the dialect of Daniel, presents evi
dence in the words that it used to express the most common
ideas that it differed materially from the dialects with which
Dr. Driver affirms that it was " nearly allied ". These same
words show that a close relationship existed between it and
the dialect of Egypto-Aramaic of the 5th century B.C., and
also a remarkable agreement with the Syriac and Mandean,
among the most eastern of all the dialects. So that the evi
dence of the strictly Aramaic vocabulary of the dialect of
Daniel is predominantly in favor of the early date and of the
eastern provenience.
But, it is when we consider the foreign elements in the
language, that we must be convinced that the evidence for
the composition of the book at or near Babylon at some
time not far removed from the founding of the Persian
empire is simply overwhelming. At no other time could
such a conglomerate have been composed. The nearest
dialects to it in variety and kind of commingling elements are
those of Ezra and of the Egyptian papyri, both from the 5th
century B.C. At a time later than this, there is no evidence
that any such dialect was in use. At a place far removed
from Babylon, a composition of such heterogeneous elements
could never have been produced. For there never has been a
time and place known to history save Babylon in the latter

3°4

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL

half of the 6th century B.C., in which an Aramaic dialect with
just such an admixture of foreign ingredients and in just
such proportions could have been brought into existence. For,
it must be borne in mind, that the place and time of all the
Aramaic dialects can be determined approximately by the
kinds and proportions of extraneous elements contained in
them. Thus the Zakir inscription of 850 B.C. has no foreign
elements, except perhaps Hebrew. The Sendshirli inscriptions
of the latter part of the 8th century B.C. have Assyrian in
gredients. The Egypto-Aramaic of the 5th century B.C. has
Persian, Babylonian, Hebrew, and Egyptian terms, and perhaps
one Latin and three Greek words. Ezra has Persian, Babylon
ian and Hebrew. The Nabatean has Arabic in large measure,
one Babylonian word and a few Greek ones. The Palmyrene
has Greek predominantly, some Arabic, and two Sassanian,
or late Persian words. The Targum of Onkelos has mainly
Greek words, (two of which have been verbalized after Ara
maic forms), five Persian words, and some Hebrew and
Babylonian elements. The Targum of Jonathan has yet more
Greek nouns and three verbs likewise Aramaic in form derived
from Greek nouns, at least one Latin word, apparently no
Persian words, and only one Babylonian word or form, except
such as are found in the Scriptures, and a considerable number
of Hebrew words. The Syriac (Edessene) has hundreds of
Greek words, a considerable number of which are verbalized ;
scores of Latin words; many Hebrew words, a few of them
verbalized; a few Babylonian words and forms; many late
Persian nouns, perhaps none of which are verbalized; a little
Sanskrit, and in later works many Arabic nouns, especially
names of persons and places. In New Syriac the foreign ele
ments are predominantly Turkish, Arabic and Kurdish loan
words. Therefore, it being thus apparent that on the basis of
foreign elements imbedded in Aramaic dialects, it is possible
for the scholar to fix approximately the time and the locality
in which the different dialects were spoken; all the more
when as has been shown in the case of Daniel such a date and
locality are required by the vocabulary of the pure Aramaic
substratum and favored or at least permitted by its grammati-

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL 305
cal forms and structure, we are abundantly justified in conclud
ing that the dialect of Daniel containing, as it does, so many
Persian, Hebrew, and Babylonian elements, and so few Greek
words, with not one Egyptian, Latin or Arabic word, and
so nearly allied in grammatical form and structure to the
older Aramaic dialects and in its conglomerate vocabulary
to the dialects of Ezra and Egypto-Aramaic, must have been
used at or near Babylon at a time not long after the founding
of the Persian empire.

306

THE ARAMAIC OF DANIEL

APPENDIX.
The verbal forms used by the Arameans may be denoted to the eye by
three tables, giving the forms used between 900 and 400 B. C, between
400 B. C. and 700 A. D., and by the writers of Daniel and Ezra and the
dialects of the Nabateans and Palmyrenes respectively.
Table I.

Sendshirli

Zakir
& Nerab
Ec.-x\ramaic
Peal
Peal
Peal
Paal (?)
Paal (?)
Paal
Hafal
HafalEthpeelHafal (?)
Peil
Hafal
EthpeelEthpaal Peil Shafel Table II.
Trg. Onkelos
. Trg. Jno.
Syriac
Sam.
Mandean
Peal
Peal
Peal
Peal
Peal
Paal
Paal
Paal
Pail
Pail
Afal
Afal
Afal
Afal
Afel
Ethpeel
Ethpeel
Ethpeel
Ethpeel
Hafel
Ethpaal
Ethpaal
Ethpaal
Ethpaal
Shafel
Ittafal
Ittafal
Ettafal
Ittafal
Safel
Pael
Ishtafal
Shafel
Nifal
Ethpeel
Pael
Pael
Safel
Pual (?)
Ethpael
Palel
Palel
Ethpauel (?)
Hafal' (?)
Ettafal
Palpel
Palpel Palel
Palpel
Ethpaulel (?)
Peil 1
Eshtafal
Hofal 1 (?)
IthpalpelHofal 1 (?)
Paiel (?)
Eshtafal Table III.
Daniel
Ezra
Nabatean
Palmyrean
Peal
Peal
Peal
Peal
Paal
Afel
Paal
Paal
Hafel
Afel
Paal
Paal
Afel
Hafel
Afel
Afel
Shafel 1
Shafel 2
Hafel
Ethpeel
Ethpeel
Shafel 1
Ethpaal
Ethpaal
Ethpeel
Ethpeel
Palel 1
PailHafal 1
Ethpaal Peil 1
Ethpaal
Hofal 9
Hishtafal 1
Hithpolel 1
Hithpoal 1
Peil
Peil
THE PLACE OF THE RESURRECTION
APPEARANCES OF JESUS
William Park Armstrong

Introduction: Faith, fact, and method; the witness of the New Testament;
later tradition.
I. The Galilean Theory.
Strauss; Weizsacker; Wernle; P. W. Schmiedel; Harnack;
Rohrbach ; W. Bruckner ; Volter ; Wellhausen ; Kreyenbuhl.
II. The Jerusalem Theory.
Loofs; Galilee on the Mount of Olives (Hofmann, Resch, etc.).
III. The Double Tradition.
Von Dobschiitz ; T. S. Rordam ; Lyder Brun ; Riggenbach ; Zahn ;
Voigt; constructive results; critical principles.
Appendix: Extra-canonical tradition — Gospel according to the Hebrews ;
Gospel of Peter; a Coptic Document; the Syriac Didascalia; Ter-
tullian's Apologeticum xxi ; Acta Pilati. Abbreviations.

THE PLACE OF THE RESURRECTION
APPEARANCES OF JESUS
The early Christian c6mmunity in Jerusalem believed that
Jesus of Nazareth, who had been crucified under Pontius Pil
ate, was the Messiah. This belief according to the earliest
tradition had its origin in the consciousness of Jesus himself,
for he both accepted the expression of it from others1 and
gave explicit witness to it by his own words2 and actions.8
It was shared by his disciples. Through his death an element
quite incongruous with their expectations was introduced into
it.4 Yet the belief persisted and became a world-historic force.
In the earliest form of which we have knowledge, — that is, of
the faith of the primitive Christian community — it included
two distinctive features : — the death and the resurrection of
Jesus. There are clear indications in the Gospels that both
of these elements entered into Jesus' conception of his Mes-
siahship;5 but even if these indications be regarded merely as
reflections of early Christian faith they imply by contrast a
1 Mit. xvi. 16 ; Mk. viii. 29 ; Lk. ix. 20.
'Especially in the self-designation "Son of Man"; cf. Holtzmann, Das
mess. Bewusstsein Jesu, 1907; Lehrbuch d. neutest. Theologie? i, 191 1,
pp. 295 ff . ; Pfleiderer Das XJrchristentumf usw. i, 1902, pp. 660 ff. Tillmann,
Der Menschensohn, BSt. xii. 1-2, 1907 ; Schlatter, Der Zweifel an der Mes-
sianitdt Jesu, BFTh. xi. 4, 1907; E. Klostermann, Markus, HB. ii. 1907,
pp. 67 f.; B. B. Warfield, The Lord of Glory, 1907, pp. 23 ff., etc.
sMt. xxi. 1 ff; Mk. xi. 1 ff; Lk. xix. 29 ff.
*Mk. viii. 32, ix. 10, 32, x. 35 ff., xiv. 27 ff., 51; Lk. xxiv. 21;
cf. 1 Cor. i. 23 ; Gal. vi. I2ff ; on the idea of a suffering Messiah in Judaism
cf. Bousset, Religion d. Judentums?, 1906, p. 26s; Schtirer, Gesch. d. jiid.
Volkes* usw. ii, 1907, pp. 648 ff.; J. Weiss, SNT? i, 1907, pp. 148 ff.;
Schweitzer, Von Reimarus zu Wrede, 1906, pp. 368 f., 383 ff. ; Volz, Judische
Eschatologie usw, 1903, p. 237; Bertholet, Biblische Theologie d. Alten
Testaments, ii. 191 1, p. 45°-
¦ Mk. viii. 30 f, etc.

310 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
change in the content of faith which was not without a cause.
And if this cause be not, or not alone, in the consciousness of
Jesus and his teaching, it must be sought in the experience of
the disciples subsequent to his death. How then did the faith
in Jesus as the Messiah, which embraced his death and resur
rection, emerge in the consciousness of the disciples? There
can be no doubt that it did emerge and that it did contain these
elements. This is proven by the testimony of Paul.6 Con
verted to this faith within a few years after Jesus' death, he
not only shared it from the beginning of his missionary ac
tivity,7 but in it knew himself to be in full accord with the
early Christian community in Jerusalem.8 There is no trace
of any difference of opinion on this subject.9 The difficulties
in Corinth about the resurrection concerned not Jesus but be
lievers.10 There is every reason to think that it had its origin
6 I Cor. XV. 2-8: TapiSojKa yap vpXv iv irpihrois, 6 Kai irapfKaflov, bri *%.pujTbs airddavev
inrip twv ap/xpriGiv r)p.un> Kara ras ypa<pas, Kai Sri iT&<pT), Kai bri iyf/yepTat tJ ypjlpa
Tfl TplTTj Kara ras ypatpds, Kai bri &(p6-rj ~Kjrppq., efra tois 5c65e/ca* eiretra ttt(f>0rj 4irdv(a
ncvraKoalois aSehcpols l<paTra!-, ^f Sjv al -whdoves pikvovaiv iws S.pri, Tivks 5k imLp-fiBriaav
e7retTa &<p8ij 'Ia/ccfy3y, eha Tots airoo-ToXois irdinv €trxarov dk iravTwv wo-irepel Tip tKTpdj-
puxTL &<p6ri Kdpjol.
'It appears definitely in his earliest Epistle (i Thess. i. 10, iv. 14);
and it is impossible to suppose that so fundamental an element in his
thought could have been absent prior to this and the fact of its subse
quent introduction have left no trace in his Epistles. The character of
his pre-Christian activity (Gal. i. 14, 24; 1 Cor. xv. 9), the manner of
his conversion (Gal. i. 16, cf. i. 2; 1 Cor. ix. 1, xv. 8; cf. Acts ix. 3 ff. ;
xxii. 6 ff. ; xxvi. 12 ff.) and the close association of the resurrection and
the exaltation of Jesus (Rom. i. 4; viii. 34) require the presence of this
element in Paul's faith from its inception.
8 1 Cor. xv. 1 ff. ; Gal. i. 18 f.
"As there was about other matters touching the relation of the Gentile
Christians to the ceremonial law ; cf. the significant statement of Weiz-
sacker {Das apostolische Zeitalter der christlichen Kirche*, 1892, pp. i6f)
in regard to the fundamental agreement of Paul and the early Church
in the christology which grew out of the common belief in the resur
rection; cf. also F. Dibelius, Das Abendmahl, 1911, pp. 1 ff.
10 Paul's argument for the resurrection of believers in 1 Cor. xv. is
based upon the resurrection of Jesus as a premise of fact about which
all were agreed. Kirsopp Lake says {The Earlier Epistles of St. Paul,
1911, pp. 215 f) ; " It is clear from 1 Cor. xv. that there was a party at Cor
inth which denied that there would ever be a resurrection of the dead. It
is also plain that there was nevertheless no dispute as to the resurrection of

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 311
on the third day after Jesus' death, — on the first Easter Sun
day, when the sepulchre of Jesus was found empty11 and
Jesus appeared to Peter and to others.
In the earliest documentary evidence Jesus himself is rep
resented as the cause of this faith. His death was a well ac
credited fact. Belief in his resurrection is attributed to the
self-manifestations of Jesus to his disciples and others by
which he convinced them of his triumph over death; and
this in turn gave to the empty tomt> — a fact of their experi
ence12 — its true explanation.
The New Testament accounts of the self-manifestations or
appearances of Jesus constitute an important element in the ex-
Christ, for the whole argument of St. Paul is based on the fact that there
was a general consent on that subject. It has sometimes been thought
that this implies that the Corinthians had no hope of any future life be
yond death. But this view is an unjustified conclusion from 1 Cor. xv.
17-19. St. Paul is here arguing that there must be a resurrection, because
a future life is impossible without one, and that the hope of the Chris
tian to share in the life of Christ necessitates that he should rise from
the dead just as Christ did. Moreover, the idea that there was no future
life is as wholly foreign to the point of view of the "Mystery Religions"
of the Corinthian world, as it was to that of Jewish theology. The ques
tion was not whether there would be a future life, but whether a future
life must be attained by means of a resurrection, and St. Paul's argument
is that in the first place the past resurrection of Christ is positive evidence
for the future resurrection of Christians, and in the second place that
the conception of a resurrection is central and essential in Christianity,
which offers no hope of a future life for the dead apart from a resur
rection." Cf. also Lake's estimate of the significance to be attached to
the elements of Christian faith held in common by Paul and his readers
and therefore presupposed in his Epistles, ibid., pp. lis, 132 f., 233 n., 277,
424, 437, and Exp. 1909, i, p. 506.
"This is witnessed by all the Gospels and is implied in 1 Cor. xv. 3 f.
by the close association of the burial and the resurrection on the third
day. It was thus part of the primitive apostolic tradition. On the
recent discussion of the empty tomb cf. A. Meyer, Die Auferstehung
Christi usw. 1905, pp. io6ff; K. Lake, The Historical Evidence for the
Resurrection of Jesus Christ. 1907, pp. 240 ff. ; H. J. Holtzmann, ThR.
1906, pp. 79 ff., 119 ff., ThLz. 1908, pp. 262 f. ; P. W. Schmiedel, PrM. 1908,
pp. I2ff; Korff, Die Auferstehung Christi usw. 1908, pp. I42ff; W. H-
Ryder, HThR. 1909, pp. 1 ff. ; C. R. Bowen, The Resurrection in the New
Testament, 1911, pp. 204 ff.
u Cf. Lk. xxiv. 23 ; Jno. xx. 3 ff .

3 12 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
planation which the early Christians gave of an essential fea
ture of their faith. If these accounts are trustworthy, there
can be no reasonable doubt concerning the ground upon which
the primitive faith in the resurrection rested. Undoubtedly
they reflect the belief of the early Christians. But are they
for this reason or because of their contents and mutual rela
tions witnesses only to faith and not to fact? Historical
criticism, it is true, is concerned primarily with the narratives,
— their exact content, mutual and genetic relations, and their
value ; but the final judgment which it must render concerning
the truthfulness of the narratives, their correspondence with
reality,^ — involving as this does the idea of causation — cannot
be made apart from a general world-view or ultimate philo
sophical theory.13 And since the end of the process may be
first in -thought, the process itself will sometimes disclose the
influence of theoretical considerations.
In considering the relation of early Christian belief to his
torical fact, critical investigation enters upon a historico-
genetic analysis of the documentary evidence in which search
is made in the details of the different narratives for traces of
the stages through which the final result, — i. e. the belief whose
origin the narratives professedly set forth — was attained.
Among the details which may be expected to throw light on
this process the indications of place or locality in the narra
tives of the appearances are not only important in themselves
but have, since the time of Reimarus, Lessing, and Strauss,
held a central place in modern discussion of the subject.
The witness of the New Testament to the place of the ap
pearances is in general quite plain. In the list of appearances
which Paul gives in I Cor. xv. 5-8 no mention is made of
13 On this aspect of historical criticism cf. PrThR. 1910, pp. 247 ff. ;
Kiefl, Der geschichtliche Christus und die moderne Philosophie, 1911 ;
and the discussions of the " religious a priori " by Bousset, ThR. 1909,
pp. 419 ff., 471 ff. (cf. ZThK. 1910, pp. 341 ff. ; 1911, pp. 141 ff.) ; Dunkmann,
Das religiose Apriori und die Geschichte, BFTh. xiv. 3, 1910 ; Wobbermin,
ZThK. 1911, Ergdnzungsheft 2; Troeltsch, RGG. ii. pp. 1437 ff., 1447 ff. ; Die
Bedeutung der Geschichtlichkeit Jesu fiir den Glauben, 191 1 ; Mackin
tosh, Exp. 1911, i. pp. 434 ff. ; Beth, ThR. 1912, pp. 1 ff. ; also C. H. Weisse,
Evangelische Geschichte, ii. 1838, pp. 441 ff.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 313
place, although the Apostle incidentally alludes elsewhere to
the place of one of them in a manner which presupposes knowl
edge of it.14 In Mt. xxviii two appearances are narrated, —
one to certain women in Jerusalem on Easter Sunday,15 and
one at a later time to the disciples in Galilee.16 Mark in its
earliest transmitted form ends abruptly at xvi. 8 without men
tion of an appearance; but the message of the young man at
the sepulchre gives promise of an appearance in Galilee.17 Lk.
xxiv records at least two appearances, — one to Cleopas and
his companion at Emmaus,18 and one to the disciples in Jeru
salem on the evening of Easter Sunday19 — allusion being made
also to a third, the appearance to Peter on Easter Sunday and
by necessary implication in or near Jerusalem.20 Jno. xx re
lates an appearance to Mary Magdalene at the sepulchre,21 an
appearance to the disciples — Thomas being absent — on Easter
Sunday and in Jerusalem,22 and an appearance to the disciples
again — Thomas being present — a week later and most prob
ably in Jerusalem.23 Jno. xxi describes an appearance to
14 Gal. i. 15 f. and 17 (toi irdXiv inrio-Tepa els JsapatTKov).
15 xxviii. 9-10. Kai iSoi 'Iitjrovs inriivT-qaev abrais \iywv xaipere. ai Si irpo<re\0ov<rai
iKpdTT\aav airov rois rbSas (col -rrpotreKinttrav avrcji. Tore \iyei abrais 6 'Ir/irods ut) <po-
fteurffe' inrdyere dirayyeCKare rois d8e\<pois pjov tva dTri\0io<riv els ttjv Ta\i\alav, K&KeT p/s
fopovrai. 16 xxviii. 16-20: oi, Si IvSeKa paBiyral iropeb$ri<rav els tt)v Fa\i\alav, els t6 6pos oD
ird^aro abrois 6 *I?;o"oCsf Kai I56vres airrbv irpofTeKbvrjirav, ol 8k iSUrTatrav. Kai TrpoaeKddjv
o 'Irjtrovs i\d\r)irev airrois \eyav iSbdy pm iraou efowria kt\.
11 xvi. 7 : dXXd inrdyere etrraTe tois paBip-ais atrrov Kai Tip Hirptp 8tl irpodyei bpas
els rijv TdKiKaiav ixei airbv (xpeaBe, koBus eirrev bpuv (cf. Mk. xiv. 28).
18 xxiv. 13—35 • Ka^ ®0^ ^° ^ aifftbv airy 7-7} T)pMpa f)trav iropevbpjsvoi els Ktljprjv dir-
ixovo~av <rra8lovs iirJKovra diro 'lepovtraMip,, if 6vopa 'Eppaois, Kai airol wpCKow jrpbs
dXXi)Xo«s irepl irdrriav twv avp^e^rtKbrwv tovtiov. xal iyivero iv Tip bpuXeiv abrobs Kai
Gvvti)TeTv, Kai abrbs 'Itjo-ovs iyylaas avveiropebeTO abrois ktX.
19 xxiv. 36 ff . : ravra Si aiirSiv \akobvrwv abrbs e<TTT\ iv pjtaw abrwv ktK.
20 xxiv. 33bf . : Kai ebpov r)Bpoto-pivovs robs IvSexa xal robs <rbv abrots, X^yon-as 6V1
Svtws iryipBrj 0 Ktipios Kai &<p6rj Xlpjuivi,
21 xx. 1 1 -1 8 : Mapta Si elar^Kei rpbs rip pvypelip £{&) Kkalovoa .... io-Tp&drq els rd
brrUrw, Kai Bewpet Tbv 'lijaovv io-Twra ktX.
22 XX. 19-23 [24] : otio-T)S obv &plas ttj i)pipa iKelvri rjj pip] aafifSdTwv . . . iJKBev 6
'lyo-oSs ical etm] els rb pAaov . . . Owpas Si els iK twv SwSeKa . . . ovk t)v per abrwv bre
fjKBev'lrjaois. 23 xx. 26-29 : Kai pe0' jjptipas 6ktu ird\iv r)aav eaw oi padtyral airov, Kai Qwp&s pter
abrwv. epxerat b 'lyo-ovs ktK.

3M

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

seven disciples by the Sea of Tiberias in Galilee.24 Acts states
that the period during which Jesus appeared to his disciples
extended over forty days,25 and records words of Paul which
point to Jerusalem as the scene of the appearances.26
The most natural interpretation of this evidence in its en
tirety favors the view that there were appearances first in or
near Jerusalem, then in Galilee, and finally in or near Jerusa
lem, — neglecting for the purpose of this discussion the place of
the appearance to Paul.
Tradition later than the New Testament yields little or
nothing of a trustworthy character. Of the endings which
have been added to Mark, the longer27 is composite in form,
dependent on Luke and John,28 and mentions appearances in
or near Jerusalem — to Mary Magdalene, to two walking in
the country, and to the Eleven. This ending must have been
added to the Gospel in the second century, — probably before
the middle of the century and in Asia Minor.29 The short
ending30 is still later. It reports in a summary manner the
delivery by the women of the message of the young man to
" those about Peter ", and then records an appearance in
24 xxi. 1 ff . : perd ravra iipavipwo-ev iavrbv ird\iv 'IijcroCs rois paSr/rais iwl rrjs BaKdo-o-rjS
ttjs TifiepidSos ktX.
25 i. 3 : ots Kai irapicTTjO-ev iavrbv frwvra perd rb ira&eiv abrbv iv 7roXXots reKp-rjplois, oV
ijpepwv Teo~o~epdKovra dirravbpevos abrois.
26 xiii. 31 : 3s &<pdT) iwl ijpipas wXelovs rots o-vvava{3ao-iv abrip dirb ttjs Ta\i\alas els
'Iepovo-a\?)p. kt\. cf . X. 40 : tovtov b Bebs tfyeipev iv ttj Tplrrj rjpipq. Kai eSwxev abrbv
ipipavr) yeviffBai, ob Trawl T(p \a<p, dXXa pApTvpcriv rots irpoKexeiporovrjuivois bwb tov
Beov, i)piv, oirives o~vve<pdyopev Kai ffwerrlopev abrtp perd rb dvaffTjjvai abrov iK veKpwv.
27 xvi. 9—20 : dvaards Si irpwt Trpwrrj o-afifSdrov i<pdvr) irpwrov Mapla Trj MaySaXrivfj
. . . pierd Si ravra Svalv il- abrwv TrepiiraTov<riv itpavepwBr) iv iripq. popdjy Topevopivots
els dypbv . . . vaTepov Si dvaKeipivois abrois rots HvSeKa iipavepwBrj kt\.
28 xvi. 9 — Jno. xx. 1, 14-17, Lk. viii. 2; xvi. 10 — Lk. xxiv. 11; xvi. 12 —
Lk. xxiv. 12-31 ; xvi. 14 — Lk. xxiv. 41 ff. ; xvi. 15 — Lk. xxiv. 47 ; Mt.
xxviii. 19 ; cf. Zahn, Einleitung3, ii. 1907, pp. 234, 244 f . ; E. Klostermann,
Markus, HB. ii. pp. 147 f. ; Wohlenberg, Evang. d. Markus, ZK. ii. 1910,
pp. 386 ff.
29 Cf. Zahn, Gesch. d. nt. Kanons, ii. pp. 910 ff. ; Einleitung, ii. pp.
232 ff. ; Westcott and Hort, The New Testament in Greek, 1882, ii, Appen
dix, pp. 29 ff. ; Swete, The Gospel according to St. Mark, 1898, pp. xcvi. ff.
30 Jidvra Si ra TvapTjyyeKpiva tois irepl rbv Hirpov uvvrbpjws i£r)yyei\av. Mera 5£
ravra Kai abrbs b 'Itjitouj airb draroXjjs Kai &XP1 Siaews iipurio-TeiKev Si abrwv rb lepbv
Kai dtpdaprov Kr)pvypa ttjs alwvbv (TOJTTiplas.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 315
which Jesus sends forth through them — i. e. those about
Peter — " the holy and incorruptible preaching of eternal salva
tion ". No mention is made of the place or the time but it is
natural to infer from the preceding context, which this end
ing was intended to supplement and complete, that the place
was Jerusalem and the time Easter Sunday. A quotation
from the Gospel according to the Hebrews31 (2nd century)
tell of an appearance to James, the brother of the Lord, and
to others, — probably in Jerusalem — but its description of the
attendant circumstances is plainly secondary. The Gospel of
Peter32 (2nd century) is dependent on the canonical Gospels
and distinctly secondary in its account of the resurrection. It
does not record an appearance to the women or to the disciples,
but seems on the point of narrating an incident not unlike the
appearance to the seven by the Sea of Tiberias33 when the frag
ment ends abruptly. Its most distinctive feature is the de
scription of the return of the disciples to Galilee at the end of
the feast in sorrow, apparently without knowledge either of the
experience of the women at the sepulchre as recorded in the
canonical Gospels or of the resurrection. A Coptic document34
(4th or 5th century, but thought to embody a second century
narrative35) contains in fragmentary form an account of an
appearance to Mary, Martha and Mary Magdalene at the
sepulchre and then to the disciples, — by plain implication, in
Jerusalem. The Syriac Didascalia36 (4th century) records an
appearance to Mary Magdalene and Mary, the daughter of
James, then an appearance in the house of Levi, and finally
an appearance to us (i. e. the disciples), — certainly at first
31 Hieronymus, Liber de viris inlustribus, in Gebhardt u. Harnack, TV.
xiv. 1896, p. 8; cf. Appendix, p. 351, I.
33 Cf. Appendix, p. 351, II.
33 Jno. xxi. 1 ff.
M C. Schmidt, SAB. 1895, pp. 705-711; Harnack, Theologische Studien
B. Weiss dargebracht, 1897, pp. 1-8, cf. Appendix, p. 352, III.
ffi Schmidt Ibid.; Harnack Ibid.; cf. Ehrhard, Die altchrist. Literatur
und ihre Erforschung von 1884-1900, in Strassburger Theologische Stu
dien, 1900, p. 146.
"Achelis und Flemming, in Gebhardt u. Harnack, TU. NF. x. 1904,
cap. xxi; cf. Hennecke, Neutest. Apokryphen, 1904, pp. 292 ff. ; Preuschen,
Antilegomena2, 1905, p. 81 ; and Appendix, pp. 352 f., IV.

316 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
near Jerusalem and subsequently in the place where this docu
ment located the house of Levi, probably in Jerusalem. Ter-
tullian37 speaks of appearances in Galilee in Judea ; the Acts of
Pilate38 (4th century) of an appearance to Joseph of Arima-
thea in Jerusalem and to the disciples on the Mount of Olives
in Galilee.
No theory of the place of the appearances can be based
solely on the extra-canonical tradition. Appeal is generally
made to this tradition in support of a particular interpretation
of the primary evidence. Critical analysis of the primary evi
dence has yielded but three theories. The appearances — how
ever conceived' — may be held to have occurred in Galilee, in
or near Jerusalem, or in both places.
The Galilean Theory
The view that the first and only resurrection-appearances of
Jesus took place in Galilee is not merely wide-spread but has
attained the status of a " critical tradition ". It is closely as
sociated with the theory of a " flight of the disciples to
Galilee " on the night of Jesus' arrest or not later than Easter
morning and without knowledge of the empty tomb or news
of the resurrection.39 The advocates of this view usually
37 Apol. xxi. ; cf. Appendix, p. 353, V.
38 Tischendorf, Evangelia Apocrypha2, 1876, Acta Pilati; cf. Appendix,
PP- 353 f-. VI. Justin, Dial. Ii. 271 A, mentions the intention to appear again
in Jerusalem (rrdXiv Trapayevf)o-e<r8ai iv 'lepovo-aXfo) as part of Jesus' pro
phecies of his passion; the scattering and flight of the disciples (Mk.
xiv. 27; Mt. xxvi. 31; Mk. xiv. 50; Mt. xxvi. 56) is retained but without
intimation of a "flight to Galilee " : Apol. i. 50, 86 A Merd obv t6 o-rav-
pwffrjvai abrbv Kai oi yvibpipoi abrov Trdvres dtcio-TT)aav, dpvTjadpjevoi abrbv iarepov Si,
iK veKpwv dvaffTdvros Kai btpffivros abrois ktX : Dial. 53, 273 C pjerd ydp rb ffTav-
pwffrjvai abrbv oi <rbv abrip 6vres paffr/ral abrov Sieo-KeSdo-ffTjaav, pixP1* 8™ dviaTT] ix
veKpwv Kai iriweiKev avrous 6V1 ovtws TrpoeTredjTfrevTO wcpl abrov -rraBeiv abrbv ktX : Dial.
106, 333 C pjsrev&T)o-av iirl Tip d<pl<rTaoBai abrov Sre io-TavpwBt\ ktX. Tatian, beside
Jerusalem and Galilee, names Capernaum (cf. Zahn, Forschungen, i. 1881,
pp. 218 f ; Bowen, Resurrection in NT, p. 426) ; for still later literature cf.
W. Bauer, Leben Jesu im Zeitalter der neutest. Apokryphen, 1909, pp. 265 f.
39 J. Weiss, Der erste Korintherbrief, MK. v. 1910, p. 350, characterizes
the " flight " theory as a " scientific legend " ; cf. Schwartzkopff, Die
Weissagungen Jesu Christi usw, 1895, pp. 70 f., The Prophecies of Jesus
Christ, etc. 1897, PP- "3 *•; J- A. Cramer, ThT. 1910, pp. 192 ff.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 317
seek to distinguish a primary from a secondary tradition in
the Gospels, — Matthew and Mark being the representatives
of the one, Luke and John of the other.
Strauss says :40 " The most important of all the differences
in the history of the resurrection turns upon the question,
what locality did Jesus design to be the chief theatre of his
appearances after the resurrection?" After reviewing the
contents of the Gospel narratives, he continues :41 " Here two
questions inevitably arise; ist, how can Jesus have directed
the disciples to journey into Galilee, and yet at the same time
have commanded them to remain in Jerusalem until Pente
cost? and 2ndly, how could he refer them to a promised ap
pearance in Galilee, when he had the intention of showing
himself to them that very day in and near Jerusalem? " He
quotes the Fragmentist [Reimarus] :42 " If the disciples col
lectively twice saw him, spoke with him, touched him, and
ate with him, in Jerusalem; how can it be that they must
have had to take a long journey into Galilee in order to see
him?"43 "According to this", continues Strauss,44 "we
must agree with the latest criticism of the gospel of Matthew,
in acknowledging the contradiction between it and the rest in
relation to the locality of the appearances of Jesus after the
resurrection; but, it must be asked, can we also approve the
verdict of this criticism when it at once renounces the repre
sentation of the first Gospel in favor of that of the other
Evangelists." He then asks the question :45 " which of the two
divergent accounts is the best adapted to be regarded as a
traditional modification and development of the other ? ", and
answers by maintaining the primitive character of the Mat-
thsean account. The possibility46 " that perhaps originally
only Galilean appearances of the risen Jesus were known, but
that tradition gradually added appearances in Judea and Jeru-
m The Life of Jesus, translated from the fourth German edition by
George Eliot, fifth ed. in one vol. 1906, p. 718.
a Ibid. p. 719. "Ibid. p. 720.
43 Cf. also the statement (p. 724) that the appearance before the Apos
tles in Jerusalem could not have happened because Matthew makes the
eleven journey to Galilee in order to see Jesus.
** 7&/rf. p. 721. "Ibid. p. 721. "Ibid. pp. 722 f.

318 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
salem, and that at length these completely supplanted the
former, may on many grounds be heightened into a prob
ability ",¦ — but chiefly on the ground that it seems to be "a
natural idea ".
Better knowledge of the history of the text of the New
Testament has eliminated certain features of Strauss' criti
cism of the Gospels, but in his central contention and in some
of his principles he has had many followers.
Weizsacker47 argues that if the disciples of Jesus withdrew
after his death to Galilee, then it was there that the faith in
which they returned to Jerusalem had its origin. This faith
that Jesus lives, that he is risen, which furnished for Peter as
it did for Paul the motive power of a life-work, originated in
an appearance to Peter in Galilee. This view, he admits, is not
in accord with the representation of the Gospels, but these are
held to be only secondary sources in comparison with Paul's
account since they are dominated by a tendency to accentuate
the physical reality of the resurrection. This tendency mani
fests itself especially in their account of the empty grave, in
the report of appearances in Jerusalem and in the ascription
of bodily or physical functions to the risen Jesus. All of
this is in conflict with Paul who knows nothing of the empty
grave or of the appearances to the women in Jerusalem. Paul
moreover gives a different description of the form of the ap
pearances. From the fact that Paul does not mention the ap
pearances in Jerusalem which are reported in the Gospels
Weizsacker infers ignorance of them not merely on Paul's
part but on that of the leaders of the Jerusalem Church as
well, for it was from them that Paul received his information
about the appearances. In the earlier form of Gospel tradi
tion (Mt.-Mk.) appearances in Galilee are reported, and
only in the later form (Lk.-Jno.) are they located in Jerusa
lem, with ever increasing emphasis of their physical, sensible
aspects. The first appearance to Peter finds only an echo in
Mark48 and is mentioned by Luke49 in evident dependence on
Paul. The Fourth Gospel mentions Peter's visit to the grave
" Apos. Zeitalter, pp. 3ff ; cf. Untersuchungen iiber d. evang. Geschichte1,
1901, pp. 363 ff.
Mxvi. 7. "xxiv. 34.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 319
and only in the last chapter an appearance to him, but even
then, not to him alone. Yet the fact that the first appearance
was made to Peter, Weizsacker regards as historically the
most certain event in the whole of this dark period, for it
alone explains the historical position of Peter who was un
doubtedly the first man of the early Church.
Weizsacker's statements characterize rather than ground the
Galilean theory of the appearances; and this is true likewise
of Wernle's more impassioned argument. Wernle50 too takes
as his starting point the flight and scattering of the disciples on
the night of Jesus' arrest. The death of Jesus seemed for
the moment to signalize the triumph of his enemies and the
destruction of his cause. This appeared at first to have been
realized in the scattering of the disciples. Contrary to ex
pectation however the disciples soon assembled again, first in
Galilee and then in Jerusalem. In the face of the murderers
of Jesus they gave utterance to the enthusiastic cry " He is not
dead ; he lives !" The clever reckoning of the Sanhedrin over
reached itself. The faith in the crucified and risen accom
plished what the faith in the living had not been able to
effect, — the founding of a new Church, the separation from
Judaism and the conquest of the world. Whence came this
change? The answer of the disciples was: The Lord has
appeared to us, first to Peter, then to the Twelve, then to
more than five hundred brethren at once, then to James, then
to all the Apostles.51 From these appearances — and the first
must according to the oldest account have occurred in Galilee
— they inferred the resurrection of Jesus and his continued
"Die Anfdnge unserer Religion2, 1904, pp. 81 f. ; cf. Die syn. Frage, 1899,
pp. 246 f. Bowen's view is not unlike Wernle's. He says {Resurrection
in NT. p. 456) : " And the fact that the disciples' first feeling of amaze
ment and terror was immediately swallowed up in the glad faith that their
dear Master is alive forevermore, their heavenly friend and God's Messiah,
is ' the perfect tribute ' to the marvelous impression his loving personality
had made on them. This is, after all, the great miracle, the impress of
Jesus' personality on his disciples. It was so deep and strong, in a word,
that they saw him after he had died. This is the real secret of the
' appearances ' ".
31 1 Cor. xv. 5-8.

320

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

existence in a glorious state of being. The new faith thus
stood on the appearances alone. Our judgment concerning
these appearances will depend in a measure on our confidence
in Paul and his informer; but ultimately on our philosophical
and religious standpoint— on our faith. Purely scientific con
siderations cannot decide in a matter that concerns the in
visible world and the possibility of a communion of spirits;
and, since for Christian faith the spiritual world is a reality
transcending the sensible, material world, there should be no
difficulty in believing that the real intervention of Jesus,
though mediated by a vision, is the ground of the belief in the
resurrection. The historian however cannot rest here, even
though he concur in this judgment, since this would make the
origin of Christianity dependent on chance, as if the cause of
Jesus would or could have failed apart from this vision. In the
person of Jesus was manifested a redeeming power too great
and too triumphant to have been destroyed by a shameful
death. Thus the appearances accomplished their far reaching
effect not accidentally but because of the earlier redemptive
impression of Jesus.
P. W. Schmiedel has given a fuller statement of the grounds
upon which the Galilean theory is based. He says :52 " An
equally important point is that the first appearances happened
in Galilee." For53 " the most credible statement in the Synop
tics is that of Mt. (and Mk.) that the first appearances were
in Galilee. The appearance in Jerusalem to the two women
(Mt. xxviii. 9 f.) is almost universally given up — not only
because of the silence of all the other accounts, but also be
cause in it Jesus only repeats the direction which the women
had already received through the angel. If the disciples had
seen Jesus in Jerusalem as Lk. states, it would be absolutely
incomprehensible how Mk. and Mt. came to require them to
repair to Galilee before they could receive a manifestation of
Jesus. The converse on the other hand is very easy to under
stand; Lk. found it inconceivable that the disciples who, ac
cording to him, were still in Jerusalem, should have been un
able to see Jesus until they went to Galilee. In actual fact the
"EB. iv. col. 4063. mEB. ii. col. 1878 f.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 32 1
disciples had already dispersed at Gethsemane (Mk. xiv. 50,
Mt. xxvi. 56) ; this Lk. very significantly omits. Even Peter,
after he had perceived, when he denied his Master, the dangers
he incurred, will hardly have exposed himself to these, gratui
tously, any longer. At the cross only women, not disciples,
were present. Whither these last had betaken themselves we
are not told. But it is not difficult to conjecture that they had
gone to their native Galilee. The angelic command, there
fore, that they should make this their rendezvous, may reason
ably be taken as a veiled indication that they had already gone
thither. The presupposition made both by Mk. and by Mt.
that they were still in Jerusalem on the day of the resurrec
tion is accordingly erroneous. It was this error of theirs
that led Lk. to his still more erroneous inversion of the actual
state of the facts." But54 " if Galilee and Jerusalem were at
first mutually exclusive, both cannot rest upon equally valid
tradition; there must have been some reason why the one
locality was changed for the other. . . . if Mk. and
Mt. had to fall back on their own powers of conjecture,
where else were they to look for appearances if not in Jerusa
lem where the grave, the women, and the disciples were?
Thus the tradition which induced them to place the appear
ances in Galilee must have been one of very great stability."
And again55 " As long as there was still current knowledge
that the first appearances of the risen Jesus were in Galilee,
the fact could be reconciled with the presence of the disciples
in Jerusalem on the morning of the resurrection only (a) on
the assumption that they were then directed to go to Galilee.
The natural media for conveying such a communication must
have seemed to be the angels at the sepulchre in the first in
stance, and after them the women. So Mk. and Mt.
So far as Mt. is concerned this direction to be given to
the disciples was perhaps the [or a] reason . . . why the
women should be made to go to the grave so early as the
evening ending the Sabbath, so that the disciples might still in
the course of the night have time to set out and if possible
obtain a sight of Jesus within three days after his crucifixion.
MEB. iv. col. 4064. °*EB. iv. col. 4072.

322

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

(b) Yet such a combination as this was altogether too strange.
Why should Jesus not have appeared forthwith in Jerusalem
to the disciples? Accordingly Lk. and Jn. simply sup
pressed the direction to go to Galilee, finding themselves un
able to accept it, and transferred the appearances to Jerusa
lem. Or, it was not our common evangelists who did both
things at one and the same time, but there had sprung up,
irrespective of Mk. and Mt., the feeling that Jesus must
in any case have already appeared to the disciples in Jerusa
lem; it presented itself to Lk. and Jn. with a certain degree
of authority, and these writers had not now any occasion to
invent but simply to choose what seemed to them the more
probable representation, and then, when in the preparation of
their respective books they reached the order to go to Galilee,
merely to pass over it or get around it as no longer com
patible with the new view."
This argument is interesting as a highly subjective re
construction of a possible development of Gospel tradition
regarding the place of the appearances on the hypothesis of
a " flight of the disciples to Galilee." This hypothesis is
maintained against all the documentary evidence,. — the earlier
(Mk. and Mt.) as well as the later (Lk. and Jno.),
on Schmiedel's own analysis. The appearance to the women
in Jerusalem — also contained in a representative of the earlier
form of Gospel tradition (Mt. ) — is rejected on equally
subjective grounds; while the exposition of the origin and
growth of the later form of Gospel tradition as embodied in
Luke and John is little more than an elaboration of Strauss'
principle that the tradition which reflects a " natural idea "
is secondary. Of actual evidence in support of the Galilean
theory Schmiedel offers nothing.
The advocates of the Galilean theory, finding so little in
the Gospels that is favorable to their view and much that is
opposed to it, have had recourse to later extra-canonical liter
ature. When a fragment of the Gospel of Peter was dis
covered and published in 1892, Harnack50 sought to show
56 Bruchstiicke des Evangeliums und der Apokalypse des Petrus2. 1893,
pp. 31 ff., 62.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 323
that it contained valuable material from which the character
and probable contents of the original ending of Mark might
be ascertained. This view was developed by Rohrbach57 in
a form subsequently approved in its essential features by Har
nack himself.58 From Mk. xiv. 28, xvi. 7 it is inferred that
the Gospel in its original form narrated an appearance in
Galilee, the ending having been removed before the Gospel
was used by Matthew and Luke. From internal indications it
is inferred that the original ending probably contained the
following: an appearance to the disciples in Galilee, some
word of Jesus in reference to the continuation of his work,
ignorance on the part of the disciples of the resurrection until
the appearance in Galilee, and an unpreparedness of the dis
ciples for the first appearance. The other Gospels contain no
trace of the existence of such an ending, for they all imply
knowledge of the resurrection before the return of the dis
ciples to Galilee. The literary phenomena of the Gospel of
Peter however show that Mk. xvi. 1-8 is the source of its
narrative in verses 50-57 and it is thought probable therefore
that verses 58-60 depend on the lost ending. In these verses
the disciples are represented as returning to Galilee at the end
of the feast in sorrow and therefore without knowledge of the
resurrection. Levi is called the son of Alphaeus, — a designa
tion found only in Mk. ii. 14. And finally the Gospel of
Peter breaks off just as it is about to narrate an appearance
in Galilee. The character of the original ending of Mark thus
explains its loss, and the circumstances of its loss explain the
fact that it was not known to Matthew or Luke ; for, because it
did not agree with the tradition regarding the appearances
which was current in Johannine circles in Asia Minor, it was
intentionally removed and the secondary ending ([Mk.] xvi.
9-20) substituted for it, — although not necessarily at just the
same time. The central point in the original ending must have
been the restoration of Peter. This is equally central in Jno.
"Der Schluss des Markusevangeliums usw. 1894; Die Berichte uber
die Auferstehung Jesu, 1898.
™ Gesch. d. altchr. Lit. bis Eusebius, ii. Die Chronologie, i. 1897, pp.
696 f . ; ThLz. 1899, pp. 174 ff- ; Lukas der Arzt, 1906, pp. 158 f. ; Neue Unter-
suchungen zur Apostelgeschichte, 191 1, pp. no ff.

324

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

xxi. But this chapter does not fit well after chapter xx, for
it represents the disciples as returning to their fishing and
this suits only a time before they had learned of the resur
rection — as in the Gospel of Peter and the original ending
of Mark. The Gospel of Peter however is not dependent on
Jno. xxi. The names Andrew and Levi and the designation of
the appearance by the Sea as the third — manifestly a polemic
against its representation as the first in the original ending of
Mark — make the theory of dependence unlikely. Jno. xxi
(but not verse 7 or the narrative about John at the close) is
either a paraphrase of the original ending of Mark or an
express criticism of it. According to Lk. xxiv. 34, 1 Cor. xv. 5
the first appearance was made to Peter; and it is probable
therefore that in the original ending of Mark the first ap
pearance in Galilee was represented as made to Peter alone.
This was doubtless followed by an appearance to the Twelve
(1 Cor. xv. 5) in Galilee (implied in Mark) and possibly
in the evening at a meal (Lk.-Jno.). The alteration to which
Mark was subjected moreover is not isolated but has in the
other Gospels parallels which probably had their origin in the
same circles.59 This process of alteration was dominated by
the tendency to substitute another tradition of the appearances
for that of the original ending of Mark, that is,' — to substi
tute Jerusalem for Galilee as the place of the first appearances,
and to subordinate the appearance to Peter.
The central contention of this theory is the knowledge and
use of the original ending of Mark by the Gospel of Peter.
But the evidence for this is far from being conclusive. The
return of the disciples to Galilee without knowledge of the
resurrection is implied in the Gospel of Peter, but this is cer
tainly a secondary feature closely connected with the tendency
which characterizes its description of the resurrection.60 The
coincidence with Mk. ii. 14 does not prove knowledge and
use of an original ending; while Luke by mentioning the
appearance to Peter61 falls out of its role, and John's
"Jno. xxi.; Mt. xxviii. 9-10; Lk. xxiv. 12; [Mk.] xvi. 9-20.
60 Schubert, Die Composition des pseudopetrinischen Evangelienfrag-
ments, 1893, pp. 140 ff.
61 xxiv. 34.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 325
" polemic " third receives its character from the theory.62
W. Bruckner63 maintains against Rohrbach the dependence
of [Mk.] xvi. 9-20 on Luke and John. Lk. xxiv with its bold
transfer of the appearances from Galilee to Jerusalem is older ;
but it is dependent on Mk. xvi. 1-8. In Lk. xxiv. 6, Mk. xvi.
7 (xiv. 28) is intentionally changed. The narrative of the
appearance to the disciples at Emmaus has its origin in the
dogmatic reflection and poetic art that created the allegories in
iv. 16-30, v. 1 -10, vii. 36-49. Jno. xx is dependent on Lk.
xxiv and Mk. xvi, but its narrative is purely allegorical, the
different characters being merely typical stages of the faith in
the glorified Christ. Thus the tradition which locates the ap
pearances in Jerusalem is Lucan rather than Johannine. The
Gospel of Peter and Jno. xxi furnish no support to the
Galilean localization, for it is not certain that the former
depends on the lost ending of Mark and the latter occupies
its proper place in an allegorical narrative. Matthew indeed
is dependent on Luke but its rejection of the Jerusalem for
the Galilean localization is deliberate.
The theory of a Lucan transformation of the primitive
Galilean localization of the appearances is carried forward by
Volter in his analysis of the Emmaus narrative.64 Volter
holds that Jno. xxi and the last verses of the Gospel of Peter
are derived from the lost ending of Mark which contained
not only an appearance to Peter but also an appearance to the
disciples in Galilee, in both of which Jesus was made known
in the breaking of bread. The Galilean location of the ap
pearance to Peter is implied in Mark, Luke, the Gospel ac-
32 Cf. L. Brun, ThStKr. 1911, p. 167. Spitta, Das Johannes-Evangelium
usw. 1910, pp. 3 ff., explains tovto t)Stj rplrov of xxi. 14 by coordination
in the series ii. n ( Tabrt\v iirolTjo-ev dpxT\v twv o-qpelajv at Cana) and iv.
54 (toOto (rrdXiv) Sebrepov o-qpjiiav iirolrio-ev at Cana-Capernaum). Chapter xxi
was added and transformed by a " Bearbeiter " from a document which
recounted the incident of Peter's call in the beginning of Jesus' Galilean
ministry. But much of Spitta's literary analysis is over subtle and its
subjectivity here is not transcended by the proposed — but extremely im
probable^ — coordination and the hypothesis of redaction.
"PrM. 1899, PP. 41 ff- 76 ff., 153 ff-
64 Die Entstehung des Glaubens an die Auferstehung Jesu, 1910; PrM.
191 1, pp. 61 ff.

326 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
cording to the Hebrews, and the Didascalia. Luke indeed
locates this appearance near Jerusalem, but Cleopas is simply
a transformation of Clopas65 and his unnamed companion is
no other than Peter66 while Emmaus was a town in Galilee
between Tiberias and Tarichaa.67 The Gospel according to
the Hebrews has also transformed this appearance, substi
tuting, under the influence of its Jewish Christian tendency,
James for Peter and Jerusalem for Galilee. The Didascalia
witnesses to it by its account of an appearance in a house
[of Levi] in Galilee. The second appearance was also in
Galilee and to the Apostles. This is implied in Mark and
witnessed to by Matthew, Luke, the Gospel according to the
Hebrews in Ignatius,68 the Didascalia, the Gospel of Peter,
and Jno. xxi. Luke transferred this appearance also to Jeru
salem. The appearance to the Apostles in the Gospel accord
ing to the Hebrews is parallel with Lk. xxiv. 36ff but is
drawn from Luke's source, in which the location was Galilee
and the occasion at a meal. This is the situation implied also
in the Didascalia where the appearance " to us " is followed
by instructions regarding fasting. This is the appearance im
plied likewise in the Gospel of Peter, for the mention of others
beside Peter shows that the appearance was not to Peter
alone. Jno. xxi depends on the same source and describes
this appearance with addition of distinctively Johannine ele
ments.69 The subjectivity of Volter's criticism by which Luke is
transformed into a witness to the Galilean localization of the
appearances reaches its climax when, in the attempt to fore
stall an impression of arbitrariness, it is said:70 "If any
one be disposed to call this criticism of the Lucan narrative
of the Emmaus disciples arbitrary, we reply that it is abso
lutely necessary and that the Apostle Paul,- — the author of i
Cor. xv. 5. — had he been able to read the narrative of Lk,
would have subjected it to similar treatment. If arbitrariness
is to be found at all, then it is certainly on the side of Luke."
65 Identified with Peter in Die Entstehung usw. p. 39.
"PrM. 1911, p. 64. "PrM. 1911, p. 64.
u Ad. Smyrn. iii. 1, 2; cf. Appendix, pp. 352 f., IV.
'"Die Entstehung usw. p. 52. ™ PrM. igu, p. 65.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 327
Volter thought it strange that no account of the appearance
to Peter should have been preserved in Gospel tradition, and
upon investigation was persuaded that it lay hidden in the
story of the walk to Emmaus. His hypothesis however was
beset with local diffculties, for this appearance — on the Gali
lean theory — must have occurred in Galilee. It was not un
natural therefore that some incident with a distinctly Galilean
setting should prove more enticing to independent and hardy
discoverers. Mt. xxviii. 16 mentions a mountain as the scene
of the Galilean appearance, and the Synoptic Gospels locate
the transfiguration of Jesus on a mountain. Moreover the
narratives of the transfiguration have been interpreted as
merely symbolical71 or as reflecting a faith already influenced
by belief in the resurrection.72 It was not surprising therefore,
that Wellhausen73 should venture upon the supposition that
the transfiguration story is actually a resurrection narrative
and perhaps the oldest in the Gospels, — Peter being the first
to recognize the transfigured Christ.
But this view does not satisfy the statement of Paul,74 which
implies an appearance to Peter alone ; and it leaves no place f or"
the doubt of the disciples.75 The narrative clearly reflects
some other incident in the experience of Peter.76 For these
reasons Kreyenbiihl77 rejects Wellhausen's theory in part.
71 C. H. Weisse, Die evangelische Geschichte, 1838, i, p. 541; ii. p. 400;
Die Evangelienfrage, 1856, pp. 255 ff. ; Weizsacker, Apos. Zeitalter, p. 397 ;
Loisy, Les Svangiles synoptiques, ii. 1909, p. 29.
72 Holtzmann, HC. i. Die Synoptiker*. 1901, p. 86; Bacon, AJTh. 1902,
p. 259; Goodspeed, AJTh, 1905, p. 448; Case, AJTh. 1909, p. 184; cf.
Loisy, £vang. syn. ii. p. 40; Bowen, Resurrection in NT. pp. 4i9f; H.
Meltzer, PrM. 1902, pp. 154 ff. (locating the first appearance to Peter on
Tabor, the traditional mount of the transfiguration, where Peter and John
and Levi had stopped over night on their flight from Jerusalem to Galilee) .
73 Das Evangelium Marci, 1903, p. yy; cf. van den Bergh van Eysinga,
Indische Einfliisse auf die evangelische Erzahlungen, 1904, pp. 62 f. ; Loisy,
IZvang. syn. ii. p. 39; identified by W. Erbt, Das Marcusevangelium usw.
19-11, p. 35, with the ascension; cf. also the criticism of this view by
Spitta, ZwTh. 191 1, p. 165.
71 1 Cor. xv. 5 ; cf . Lk. xxiv. 34-
75 Mt. xxviii. 17.
70 Identified by Kreyenbiihl with Acts ii. 1 ff.
77 ZNW. 1908, pp. 257-296; van den Bergh van Eysinga, Indische Ein-

328 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
The transfiguration story was originally a resurrection nar
rative, but it does not recount the first appearance to Peter.
The oldest narrative of this incident is rather to be found
in the description of Jesus' walking on the water78 and its
variants.79 The story in its original form is thought to
have come from Peter and to have formed part of the primi
tive Gospel of the Jerusalem Church.80 It describes in the
language of fantasy the experience through which Peter
passed from popular ghost-fear to belief in the resurrection,
i. e. to the eschatologico-apocalyptic belief that Jesus was
the exalted Messiah. This belief transformed both Peter
and Jesus. Through Peter's influence others were led to a
similar faith, first the Twelve, then more than five hundred.
This is the meaning of the two narratives of Jesus' walking
on the water and the transfiguration on the mount. Both
are resurreotion narratives and recount the genesis and
growth of the resurrection- faith first in Peter and the other
disciples in Galilee and then in the five hundred or more in
Jerusalem, — the mount in the transfiguration narrative being
merely the figurative mount of revelation.81
fliisse, p. 47; O. Schmiedel, Die Hauptprobleme der Leben-Jesu-For-
schung2, 1906, pp. 81 f. ; cf. Bowen, Resurrection in NT. p. 417 n. 1.
78 Mt. xiv. 22-23.
79 Mk. iv. 35-41 ; vi. 42-52 ; Mt. viii. 23-27.
80 The relation of the variants to the original is conceived as follows :
Peter first told the story in Aramaic; this was translated into Greek by
John Mark and formed the concluding part of the primitive Gospel of
the Jerusalem Church before 70 AD ; it was then transformed by a Gen
tile Christian of the West into a magical stilling of a sea storm; the
redactor of Mark's Gospel took the story of the storm from oral tradition
(Mk. iv. 35-41) and himself produced another variant of the original
(Mk. vi. 42-52) ; finally the redactor of Matthew both preserved the orig
inal, which he inserted in Mark's order (Mt. xiv. 22-23), and added in
dependence on Mark his variant of the storm (viii. 23-27).
81 On the Galilean theory cf. C. H. Weisse, Evang. Gesch. ii. 349 ff., 358 f.,
386, 416; Keim, Geschichte Jesu von Nazara, iii. 1872, pp. 533ff; W.
Brandt, Evangelische Geschichte, 1893, pp. 337 ff. ; Pfleiderer, Urchristentu'm,
i. pp. 2 ff., 395 ; P. W. Schmidt, Die Geschichte Jesu, ii. 1904, pp. 401 ff. ;
O. Holtzmann, Leben Jesu, 1901, pp. 390 ff. ; N. Schmidt, The Prophet of
Nazareth, 1905, pp. 392 ff. ; A. Meyer, Auferstehung, usw. pp. 127 ff. ; Bousset

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 329

The Jerusalem Theory
In opposition to the theory which locates the first appear
ances in Galilee, Loofs,82 in dependence on the Luke-John
tradition, seeks to establish the theory of localization in and
about Jerusalem. He argues that the theory which locates the
appearances in Galilee, in the form which denies as in that
which accepts the historicity of the empty grave on the third
day, is untenable. For the flight of the disciples83 was not
a " flight to Galilee." On the contrary Mk. xvi. 7s4 implies
their presence in Jerusalem on Easter morning. This theory
moreover finds no support in Justin.85 It rests chiefly on
Mark. But Mark was not written by an eye-witness, and
the lost ending is an unknown quantity. The Papian tradition
regarding the Petrine source of Mark may have had no other
basis than 1 Pet. v. 13, and there is no sufficient reason for sup
posing that the contents of the lost ending are preserved in
Jno. xxi. 1 Cor. xv. 5 favors Jerusalem as the place of the ap
pearance to Peter. It is more probable therefore that the Mat
thew-Mark tradition is, like the Synoptic account of Jesus'
public ministry, one-sidedly Galilean. And finally Mark is the
only source of this tradition; for there is no proof that Mat
thew had any other basis for the Galilean localization. The
Gospel of Peter depends on Mark. Lk. xxiv. 34 cannot be
SNT. ii. p. 148; Loisy, £vang. syn. ii. pp. 74iff; Bacon, The Founding
of the Church, 1909, pp. 25 ff., The Beginnings of Gospel Story, 1909, pp.
xvii f., xl, 190 ff. ; Edmunds, OC. 1910, pp. 130 ff. ; Bowen, Resurrection in
NT. pp. 150 ff., 430, 432 f., 440 n. 1 ; Conybeare, Myth, Magic and Morals,
1909, pp. 291 f., 301 ff.
w Die Auferstehungsberichte und ihr Wert, 1908; cf. the account of the
origin of "the Galilean tradition, by Holsten, Zum Evangelium des Paulus
und des Petrus, 1868, pp. 119, 156 ff. — under the influence of an anti-Paul
ine polemic; by Hilgenfeld, ZwTh. 1868, pp. 73f, Nov. Test. ex. Can. iv.
Evang. sec. Heb. 1866, pp. 29 ff. — under the influence of a redaction favor
able to the Gentile Christian Church ; by Korff, Auferstehung Christi usw.
pp. 47 ff., 92, 104 f. — under the influence of a Marcan apologetic against the
derivation of the appearances from the empty tomb.
83 Mk. xiv. 50. M Also Mt. xxviii. 10.
"'Dial. 53 p. 180 C; 106 p. 378 C; Apol. i. 50 p. 136 A; cf. above note 38.

33°

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

separated from its context and assigned to another (Galilean)
source ; and Jno. xxi, although it describes the first appearance,
is proven to be inaccurate by I Corinthians and may well be de
pendent on the Synoptic tradition. On the other hand the
tradition of Luke-John is commended as trustworthy by its
agreement with Paul, although Luke adds the appearance to
the disciples at Emmaus and John the appearance to Mary
Magdalene. Luke moreover shows by his narrative of the
last journey to Jerusalem that he had access to a special
source, and John embodies Johannine tradition. Mt. xxviii.
i6ff may correspond with i Cor. xv. 6, but Lk. xxiv. 49 ex
cludes the Galilean localization. The Galilean appearance in
Jno. xxi is discredited on the same ground and also by internal
inconsistency. The rehabilitation of Peter86 manifestly be
longs to the first appearance. Its Galilean setting is due to its
false connection with xxi. 1-14, — a connection which is shown
to be unhistorical by Paul's silence and may have had its
origin in Lk. v. 1-4.
The two principal pillars upon which this theory rests — the
reference of Lk. xxiv. 49 to the whole period between Easter
and Pentecost, and the silence of Paul — are weak in themselves
and quite insufficient to support the structure that is built upon
them. The Marcan tradition, with its indication of Galilee,
cannot be discredited by a vague suspicion regarding its ulti
mate Petrine source or by the argument from silence since the
Gospel in its earliest transmitted form is incomplete. There
is no evidence for rejecting the Galilean location of the appear
ance recorded in Mt. xxviii. 16 ff, for Paul is equally silent
about Jerusalem. And if the Mark-Matthew tradition gives
evidence of an appearance in Galilee no reason remains for
the proposed transformation, analysis and derivation of Jno.

86 xxi, 15-19 (23).
87 J. A. Cramer's advocacy of the Jerusalem tradition {ThT, 1910, pp.
189-222) is scarcely less negative in its treatment of the Galilean tradition.
The two traditions are thought to be mutually exclusive. All the documen
tary evidence, it is held, witnesses to the presence of the disciples in Jeru
salem on the day of the resurrection, and the theory both of the flight to
Galilee and of the first and special appearance to Peter in Galilee is

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 331
In the interest of the Jerusalem localization of the ap
pearances appeal has been made to a geographical tradition in
which mention is made of a Galilee near Jerusalem. Accord
ing to this tradition the peak to the north of the Mount of
Olives or the entire region including the Mount of Olives bore
the name Galilee in the time of Jesus. The words of Jesus
and of the angel 88 have reference to this Galilee and were
so understood by the disciples. The appearances therefore,
with the exception of the one described in Jno. xxi, occurred in
or near Jerusalem. Evidence for this view is sought in the
Old Testament, especially in Joshua89 and Ezekiel ;90 but even
if the word was used of different parts of Palestine in the
sense of boundry and in particular of the boundary of the terri
tory of Benjamin near Jerusalem, this usage would require
other evidence to prove its influence in the time of Jesus. For
this, appeal is made to the Acts of Pilate91 and to Tertullian.92
According to the one the Mount of Olives was in Galilee ; ac
cording to the other Galilee was in Judea. If Tertullian knew
the Acts of Pilate, they must belong in some form at least to
the second century. His language93 however finds a natural
explanation in the usage of the time.94 No other trace of this
tradition appears until the Pilgrim literature of the middle
opposed by intrinsic and traditional probability. The Jerusalem tradition
is well accredited and explains the character of early Christian faith and
the origin of the Church in Jerusalem. Two possibilities are proposed for
the origin of the Galilean tradition : either (a) from appearances there
such as the appearance to more than five hundred of which very little
is known — Mt. xxviii. i6ff reflecting a vague Galilean tradition but freely
supplying details of place and persons ; or (b) from an erroneous com
bination of the call (Mk. i. 16-20) and restoration (Jno. xxi. 11-19) of
Peter with a wonderful catch of fish (Lk. v. 1-11; Jno. xxi. 2-11). If the
second of these possibilities be true, the whole Galilean tradition must,
as Cramer says (p. 218), be consigned to the realm of legend. This argu
ment, however, in its negative aspect, like the argument of Loofs, suffers
from its insistence on the exclusive character of the Jerusalem tradition.
83 Mt. xxvi. 3y; Mk. xiv. 28; Mt. xxviii. 7, 10; Mk. xvi. 7.
ss xviii. 11-20, xv. 1- 1 5. 90xlvii. 8.
91 Tischendorf, Evangelia Apocrypha; cf. Appendix, pp. 353 f., VI.
M Apol. xxi.; cf. Appendix, p. 353, V.
63 Apud Galilseam Iudaeae regionem.
91 Schurer, ThLz. 1897, PP- 187 f .

332

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

ages. Use of it to interpret the tradition of the Gospels in
regard to the place of the appearances had a beginning in the
eighteenth century. In 1832 Thilo95 reviewed the evidence
and literature. Impressed by Thilo's note, R. Hofmann96 in
creased the references to the mediaeval Pilgrim literature and
A. Resch97 has sought to bridge the chasm between the Acts
of Pilate and the New Testament times by investigating the
Old Testament usage. The theory has found advocates in
Lepsius,98 Thomsen,99 and Kresser;100 but there has been no
increase in the evidence, — which is ultimately reducible to the
Acts of Pilate. Until these are shown to contain a trustworthy
tradition of the geography of Palestine in the time of Jesus
the theory must inevitably yield before the plain implications
of a uniform New Testament usage.101
The Double Tradition
The Gospels witness plainly to appearances of Jesus in or
near Jerusalem and in Galilee. This is true both of the Synop
tic and of the Johannine tradition. Even among the separate
Gospels, Luke alone records appearances only in one general
locality. It is therefore highly probable that the appearances
were not restricted to a single place and that consequently
the two traditions should not be set over the one against the
95 Codex Apocryphus Novi Testamenti, i. 1832, pp. 617 ff.
96 Das Leben Jesu nach den Apokryphen, 1851, pp. 393 ff. ; Ueber den Berg
Galilda, 1856; Auf dem Oelberg. 1896.
97 Gebhardt und Harnack, TU. 1894, x. 2, pp. 381 ff. ; Das Galilda bei Jeru
salem, 1910; Der Auferstandene in Galilda bei Jerusalem, 1911.
88 Reden und Abhandlungen, iv. Die Auferstehungsberichte, 1902.
mBG. 1906, pp. 352 ff.
100 ThQ. 1911, pp. 505 ff. ; cf. Zimermann, ThStKr. 1901, p. 447.
101 Cf. Romberg, NkZ. 1901, pp. 289 ff. ; Zahn, Gesch. d. nt. Kanons, ii.
PP- 937 i', NkZ. 1903, pp. 770 ff. ; Edgar, Exp. 1897, ii. pp. 119 ff. ; Cony
beare, StBE. iv. 1896, pp. 59 ff. ; Voigt, Die aeltesten Berichte uber die
Auferstehung Jesu Christi, 1906, p. 81 ; A. Meyer, Auferstehung usw. pp.
95 ff. ; Harnack, Chronologie, i. pp. 603 ff. ; Schubert, Pseudopetrin. Evang.
pp. 176 ff., 185 ; Stulcken, in Hennecke, Handbuch z. d. nt. Apokryphen,
1904, pp. 143 ff. ; Riggenbach, ThLBl. 1910, pp. 537 f. ; Bowen, Resur
rection in NT. pp. 350 ff., 440 n. 1 ; Moffatt, Introduction to the Literature
of the New Testament, 1911, pp. 254 f. ; cf. below note 134.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 333
other as mutually exclusive. It has indeed been affirmed that
the opposition of the Galilean and the Jerusalem tradition con
stitutes the primary condition of an intelligent criticism of
the narratives of the resurrection,102 and undoubtedly this
opinion seems to have become so axiomatic an historical
premise that its acceptance is no longer felt to constitute a
peculiar virtue. Certain even of those who admit a fac
tual basis underlying the two-fold tradition of the Gospels do
not hesitate to speak disparagingly of the " usual harmonistic
method of addition ".103 The denial of the critical basis of
the Galilean theory is of course destructive of that theory,
and the method of addition — however good in itself — can
serve no useful purpose for those who are persuaded that the
problem demands a different process for its solution.
Just as the tradition of the empty sepulchre is retained by
certain representatives of the Galilean theory to explain the
form of the disciples' faith,104 so appearances in Jerusalem are
admitted to explain the origin of the Lk.-Jno. tradition by a
writer who still adheres to the priority of the Galilean ap
pearances. Von Dobschiitz105 holds that the first appearance
was made to Peter in Galilee. The disciples had returned in
deep despondency and were about to take up again their old
trade. They had dreamed a dream,' — a beautiful dream with
its vision of thrones and judgment; but it was only a dream,
and back they must go to their fish-nets, when suddenly — at
the psychological moment — the Lord intervenes (Jno. xxi)
and, by quickening again their faith in his Messiahship, makes
them fishers of men. Their mission leads them to Jerusalem
where they are met by some who had seen Jesus.106 Subse
quently Jesus appears to the, five hundred at Pentecost.107
102 Bousset, ThLz. 1897, P- 73-
103 von Dobschiitz, Probleme des apostolischen Zeitalters, 1904, p. 10.
1M Volter, Die Entstehung usw.; cf. Loofs, Auferstehungsberichte usw.
pp. 18.
103 Probleme usw.; cf. Clemen, Paulus usw. i. 1904, pp. 204 ff. ; Lake,
Hist. Evidence, etc., p. 212.
103 Lk. xxiv. 13 f. ; cf. also Reville, Jesus de Nazareth, ii. 1906, pp. 426 ff. ;
Stapfer, La mort et la resurrection de Jesus Christ, 1898, pp. 231 ff.
107 Jno. xx. 21-23; -Acts ii. 1 ff. ; cf. Ostern und Pftngsten, 1903; Weisse,
Evang. Gesch. ii. p. 417; Steck, Der Galaterbrief, 1888, p. 186; Pfleiderer,

334

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

A less dramatic but more penetrating discussion of the
double tradition is given by T. S. Rordam.108 Two principal
difficulties confront the theory of a twofold location, — the
apparent exclusion of appearances in Galilee by Luke, and
the apparent exclusion of an appearance to the disciples in
Jerusalem by Matthew-Mark. Rordam seeks to meet these
difficulties by literary analysis. Luke is thought to have fol
lowed a source of Jerusalem origin in which two Jerusalem
appearances — one on Easter Sunday and one at the time of
the ascension some forty days later — had been combined.
The combination was not made by Luke but had already taken
place in the oral tradition, so that verse 47 appears as the
natural continuation of verse 46 ; whereas the proper place for
the Galilean appearance implied in Mark is immediately after
verse 46. As the result of this the command to tarry in Jeru
salem109 seemed to exclude the Galilean appearances, and the
reference to Galilee110 assumed its vaguer form. The occasion
of the Jerusalem appearances was the unbelief of the disciples.
But are such appearances really excluded by the contents
of the lost ending of Mark? If Matthew and Luke used
Mark, and Luke follows another source in chapter xxiv, the
contents of the Marcan ending must be sought in Matthew.111
Urchristentum, i. pp. 10 f. ; Harnack, Chronologie, i. pp. 707 f. ; Bowen,
however {Resurrection in NT. pp. 430 n. I, 433) more logically — but with
out evidence — locates the origin of the Church in Galilee.
108 HJ. 1905, pp. 769-790; cf. also Feine, Eine vorkanon. Uberlieferung
d. Lukas, 1891, pp. 72 ff., 160 ff. ; Zimmernuann, ThStKr. 1901, pp. 438 ff. ;
Allen, St. Matthew, ICC. 1907, pp. 302 ff. ; B. Weiss, Die Quellen d. Lukas-
evangeliums, 1907, pp. 230 ff.
109 xxiv. 49. ™ xxiv. 6 ; cf . Mk. xvi. 7.
111 Cf. Weisse, Evang. Gesch. ii. p. 359 f. ; Volkmar, Die Evangelien usw.
1870, pp. 241, 608 ff. ; Wright, Some New Testament Problems, 1898, pp.
122 f. ; Goodspeed AJTh. 1905, pp. 484 ff. says (p. 488) : " The narrative of
Mark, when it breaks off with 16: 8, evidently demands just two things for
its completion ; the reassurance of the women, and the reappearance of Jesus
in Galilee. These two things Matthew records, and the conclusion seems
inevitable that he derived them from his chief narrative source, the gos
pel of Mark." Cf. also Plummer, Commentary on St. Matthew, 1910,
pp. 412 f. ; 421 f. ; and on the other hand Bowen, Resurrection in NT. pp.
164 ff., 166 n. 2 and, for reconstruction of the contents of the lost ending,
pp. 161 f.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 335
Mark cannot have intended his Gospel to end with the words
i<f>o/3ovvTo ydp, and neither can he have intended to say that
the women never told of their experience. But as it is un
likely that the women were afraid of the angel, we may com
plete the unfinished sentence : " for they were afraid that it
might not be true ". Consequently an appearance of Jesus
to confirm the message of the angel is not only probable in it
self but is recorded by Mt. xxviii. 9-12. 112 Mk. xvi. 7 im
plies an appearance to Peter and in Galilee. But as the dis
ciples, according to Mark, were still in Jerusalem, their unbelief
may have caused an appearance there. Matthew indeed repre
sents the appearance to the Eleven in Galilee as the fulfilment
of the promise in xxviii. 7 (Mk. xvi. 7) ; but the definite moun
tain in xxviii. 16 implies an appearance to the Eleven in Jeru
salem, and the doubt of some in xxviii. 17 suits this better
than a later occasion. This allusion to an appearance to the
disciples in Jerusalem Matthew derived from Mark,113 the
m Spitta, Zur Geschichte und Litteratur des Urchristentums, iii. 2, 1907,
pp. 112 ff., argues that inasmuch as Mk. xiv. 28, xvi. 7 imply an appear
ance in Galilee, the author must have intended to conclude his Gospel with
a narrative similar to Mt. xxviii. 16-20. But Mk. xvi. 7 contains also a
message to be delivered by the women to the disciples. Luke and John
report its delivery but Mark closes with the statement of a hindrance,
which can, however, have been only the introduction to an account of its
removal, and most naturally by an appearance of Jesus. General recog-
ition of this has been hindered by the hypothesis that the oldest tradi
tion — represented in Mark — reported appearances only in Galilee. As the
Marcan text demands even more plainly than Matthew an appearance to
the women in Jerusalem, Matthew must have known the original ending
of Mark and furnishes — rather than Jno. xxi — information concerning its
contents. Cf. also Streitfragen der Geschichte Jesu, 1907, pp. 78 f. where the
literary parallels are given, especially the Marcan edjvyov, rpbpos xal eKo-rao-is
with Mt. direXBovo-ai raxb, perd (pbflov Kai xdpas peydXys ; the Marcan ^0o/3oOxto ydp
with Mt. /«) 0o/3e«r0E. The criticism of Brtin, ThStKr. 1911, pp. 168 f., does
not break the force of Spitta's argument in so far as it concerns the impli
cations of the closing verse of Mark and the support that it lends to
Matthew's report of the appearance to the women. Cf. also Stanton, The
Gospels as Historical Documents, ii. 1909, pp. 201 f.
""This is seen also in the fact that Matthew does not mention the de
livery of the women's message to the disciples, and in the fact that the
mountain in Galilee is said to have been appointed — not to the women —
but to the disciples. This allusive or " hinting " feature of the narrative

336 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
Marcan account being omitted because of an unwillingness to
chronicle the doubts of the disciples.114 The original con
clusion of Mark thus contained, according to Rordam, three'
appearances in Jerusalem, — to the women, to Peter, and to
the Apostles. Then followed an appearance to the disciples
generally in Galilee, — agreeing in order with the source of
Luke. Mark probably contained also some parting appear
ance of Jesus similar to that described in Lk. xxiv. 47-53,
Acts i. 4-12, 1 Cor. xv. 7, — for this was part of the apostolic
tradition. It is not contained in Matthew because it was
probably lost from the copy of Mark used by Matthew.
Rordam's theory depends mainly on two things : his recon
struction of the source of Lk. xxiv and his conception of the
contents of the lost ending of Mark. Of these the latter is the
more crucial. Is the method which follows Matthew as guide
more satisfactory than that which follows the Gospel of Peter?
Must we be content with a non liquet, or is there a reasonable
minimum of inference from Mk. xvi. 7-8 that may be safely
made? To this minimum Lyder Brun113 reckons an appear
ance before the disciples in Galilee, but prior to this an ap
pearance to Peter in Jerusalem — possibly also an appearance
to the disciples in Jerusalem. In agreement with Spitta116 it
is maintained that the meaning of irpoa%;a> in Mk. xiv. 28,
Mt. xxvi. 32 is determined by the reference in the context
to the shepherd and the scattered sheep. After his resurrection
Jesus is to gather his scattered disciples and lead them back to
is responsible for the impression, produced by xxviii. 17, that some of the
Apostles doubted, "though the narrator clearly meant to say that the
apostles adored, but some of the other disciples doubted" (p. 785).
111 This appears in the silence of Matthew about the doubt of the women
which is thought to have been the occasion of the appearance in xxviii.
9-10. ™ ThStKr. 1911, pp. 157-180.
116 Zur Gesch. u. Lit. d. Urchristentums, iii. pp. m ff. ; Streitfragen der
Gesch. Jesu, pp. 74 ff. ; cf. also Zimmermann, ThStKr. 1901, pp.
446 f . ; Riggenbach, Aus Schrift u. Geschichte, 1898, p. 138 ; J. Weiss, SNT.
i. p. 208 ; Cramer, ThT. 1910, pp. 200 ff. ; on the other hand Bowen, Resur
rection in NT. p. 196, sees in vpod^w of Mk. xiv. 28 a prophecy ex eventu
which witnesses to the "flight of the disciples to Galilee"; cf. pp. 148,
200 f.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 337
Galilee. Mk. xvi. 7 adds to this the promise that the disciples
would see Jesus in Galilee. The special mention of Peter is
due to the interpretation of Mk. xiv. 28 as a call to go to
Galilee. But the silence of the women prepares for an ap
pearance to Peter in Jerusalem, that, being himself strength
ened, he might gather the scattered disciples and lead them back
to Galilee.117
In the light of Mk. xvi. 7 there are four possible infer
ences regarding the contents of the lost ending :
(1) The women say nothing and the disciples return to
Galilee without knowledge of the empty grave or the message
of- the angel, — as in the Gospel of Peter.
(2) The silence of the women, caused as it was by fear,
lasted but a short time, after which,' — having recovered self-
possession — they delivered the message of the angel, — as in
the short ending of Mark.118
(3) The fear of the women was overcome by an appearance
of Jesus, after which they delivered their message,119 — in
which case there seems to be no place for a special appearance
to Peter, unless the message met with unbelief120 and this was
overcome by the appearance to Peter.121
(4) Since the women said nothing to the disciples or to
Peter, Jesus appeared to Peter in Jerusalem122 and directed the
disciples to go to Galilee.123
The second of these possibilities is set aside because it
weakens the force of ovBevl ovBev elirov ; the first because
the " flight " theory is excluded by Mark and there is no con
clusive evidence that the Gospel of Peter knew the original
ending of Mark; the third because there is no sufficient evi
dence that Matthew knew the original ending of Mark. The
fourth possibility however avoids both the weakening of ovBevl
ovSev eiTrov and the doubling of the message to the women.
117 Cf . Lk. xxi. 32, xxiv. 34 ; 1 Cor. xv. 5.
UB Trdvra Si Ta iraprryyeXpiva tois irepl rbv Hirpov cvvrbpws i^fryyeiKav ktX.
Cf. Mt. xxviii. 8; Lk. xxiv. 9.
119 Mt. xxviii. 9-10.
120 Lk. xxiv. 11, 22-24; [Mk.] xvi. 10. mLk. xxiv. 34.
122 Lk. xxiv. 34; cf. xxii. 32. "''Mt. xxviii. 16.

338 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
The appearance to Peter corresponds also with the special ref
erence to him in the message of the angel and with the place
assigned to it by Paul. The parallel with Luke is close ; and it
is not improbable that the appearance to James in the Gospel
according to the Hebrews is simply a transformation of the
appearance to Peter. The reference to Galilee in Mark and
Matthew is to be explained by the prominence assigned to
Galilee in their account of the ministry of Jesus,124 by the
prophecy in Mk. xiv. 28, and by the significance of the Galilean
appearances for the vocation125 of the Apostles. In Luke the
intervening step between the first and the last appearances
in Jerusalem — the appearances in Galilee — fell away because
the later activity of the Apostles, in which Luke was particu
larly interested, was connected with Jerusalem.
Even a minimum of inference from Mk. xvi. 7-8 regarding
the contents of the original ending of the Gospel is rejected by
those who maintain that the Gospel ended originally — whether
in intention or in fact — with xvi. 8.126 The statement of
121 Spitta, Streitfragen, p. 81, formulates the problem concerning the place
of the appearances as follows : The question is not, Did the earliest tra
dition know of appearances in Judea? — all the sources agree in this — but,
Did Galilee originally come into consideration in this part of the history
of Jesus? He concludes from his investigation of the geographical dispo
sition of the life of Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels that the underlying
document (Grundschrift) did not contain the Galilean appearances, — which
were first added in their recension of this document by Mark-Matthew.
125 Berufsbewusstsein.
123 B. Weiss, Die Evangelien des Markus und Lukas,' 1901, MK. i. 2,
p. 245. Zahn, Gesch. d. neutest. Kanons, ii. p. 930; Einleitung, ii., pp. 238 ff. ;
Riggenbach, Aus Schrift und Geschichte, p. 126; so also Wellhausen, Das
Evangelium Marci, 1903, p. 146 — though from a different point of view
and for a different reason; cf. H. J. Holtzmann, HC. i.3, 1901, p. 183; O.
Holtzmann, Leben Jesu, 1901, p. 390; R. A. Hoffmann, Das Marcusevan-
gelium, 1904, p. 641 ; Wendling, Die Entstehung des Marcus-Evangeliums,
1908, p. 201 — the earliest form of the narrative ends with i^vevaev Mk. xv.
37; cf. the text in his Ur-Marcus, 1905, p. 59; Zimlmermann, ThStKr.
1901, p. 148, ends his AQ source with Mk. xvi. 8 and thinks that the refer
ence to the silence of the women not only indicates the absence of their story
from earlier tradition but explains its first appearance in this source (cf.
Bowen, Resurrection in NT. pp. 157 f., 180 ff.). J. Weiss, Das dlteste Evan
gelium, 1903, pp. 340 ff., explains the silence of the women about the empty
tomb from the apologetic reference of the story to the Jews (p. 340) and

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 339
Riggenbach127 that there is no tradition which relates exclu
sively Galilean appearances seems to be true of the later as of
the earlier tradition.128 The Galilean theory rests entirely, in
the last analysis, on an inference, for the sake of which prac
tically all the documentary evidence is traversed.
There is indeed some difference of opinion among the advo
cates of the double tradition about the duration of the first ap
pearances in Jerusalem. Zahn129 locates the appearance de
scribed in Jno. xx. 26-29 in Galilee because it is not explicitly
said to have occurred in Jerusalem, and the stay of the dis
ciples in Jerusalem for a week after Easter Sunday is thought'
improbable.130 Appeal is made also to the patristic association
of the doubt of Thomas with Mt. xxviii. 16 f.131 The impli
cations of the context, however, strongly favor Jerusalem
as the scene of Jno. xx. 26-29. Moreover the time of the
departure to Galilee is not fixed by the Synoptic tradition. It
may not be possible fully to explain this stay in Jerusalem.
There was need to gather the scattered disciples, inform them
of the command to go to Galilee and of the appointed meet
ing-place. Their hopes for the restoration of the kingdom
holds that the Gospel may have ended with xvi. 8 (p. 345) ; SNT. 1. p.
227. This theory of an anti-Jewish apologetic motive dominating the
Gospel of Mark, applied by Wrede {Das Messiasgeheimnis, 1901) to a
particular feature of the Marcan narrative, is generalized by Baldensper-
ger in relation to the resurrection-narratives in Urchristliche Apologie,
die dlteste Auferstehungskontroverse, 1909. Cf. also Louis Coulange,
RHLR. 1911, pp. 145 ff., 297 ff. ; Bowen Resurrection in NT. p. 159 n. 4.
127 Aus Schrift usw. p. 142.
128 The Gospel of Peter may constitute an exception, if not in fact, at
least in the natural inference from its fragmentary conclusion; yet even
this Gospel makes of Jesus' enemies witnesses of his resurrection in Jeru
salem (cf . Schubert Pseudopetrin. Evang. p. 96 ; W. Bauer, Leben Jesu usw.
PP. 256 f).
129 Evang. des J oh. ZK. iv. 1908, p. 672.
180 Cf. Mt. xxvi. 32, xxviii. 7, 16 ; Mk. xiv. 28, xvi. 7.
131 NkZ. 1903, p. 806 n. 1, citing a scholion attributed to Origen in
Cramer, Cat. in Ev. Matt, et Marci, p. 243, and Jerome. The addition
however of etre $[Xnrvos (cf. also Petrus von Laodicea, ed. Heinrici, 1908,
PP- 343 f) anQl the differentiation of the two incidents in Chrysostom
weaken the force of this appeal.

340 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
to Israel132 would readily center in Jerusalem, and the com
mand to go to Galilee — repeated as it was — may suggest
that this was not the natural thing for them to do. Doubt
had to be overcome, — in particular the doubt of Thomas.
The Jerusalem appearances moreover may well have been
intended to serve particularly in confirming the disciples'
faith in the resurrection, the Galilean to give fuller instruction
regarding their subsequent mission. The doubt of some in
Mt. xxviii. 17 scarcely suggests the scene of Jno. xx. 26ff.
It may have had its occasion in the form of the appearance, or
it may indicate the presence of others beside the Eleven.133
Voigt transfers the ascension from the Mount of Olives to
the mount in Galilee, north-west of Capernaum,. — the scene
of the beatitudes and of the calling of the Twelve.134 Luke
is supposed to have identified the mountain of his Jerusalem
source with the Mount of Olives and to have interpreted the
separation there of Jesus from his disciples as final, in con
sequence of which the command to remain in the city was in
troduced.133 The appearance to Peter, implied in Mark and
132 Acts i. 6; cf. Lk. xxiv. 21.
133 Cf. Riggenbach, Aus Schrift usw. p. 150; Voigt, Die aeltesten
Berichte iiber die Auferstehung Jesu Christi, 1906, pp. 63 f. ; on the sum
mary character of the description cf. C. H. Weisse, Evang. Gesch. ii.
pp. 415 ff . ; Steinmeyer, Apologetische Beitrdge, iii. 1871, p. 153, and J.
Denney, Jesus and the Gospel, 1908, pp. 155 ff. ; Korff, Auferstehung usw.
pp. 29 ff. ; Plummer, St. Matthew, p. 426.
134 Berichte usw. pp. 79 ff — although rejecting the reference of ov ird^aro
abrois b'1-qaovs (Mt. xxviii. 16) to the mount of the beatitudes; cf. Volkmar,
Die Evangelien usw. 1870, p. 609; Westcott, Introduction to the Study of
the Gospels, i860 (1887), p. 330; B. Weiss, Das Matthdus-Evangelium,'1
1898, MK. i. 1. p. 506; Bowen, Resurrection in NT. pp. 275 f. The iden
tification with Thabor is combined with rejection of " Galilee on the
Mount of Olives " by Ludolphus de Saxonia, Vita Christi, ed. Rigollot, iv.
1878, p. 237, par. ii. cap. lxxx, 1 : " Et sciendum, quod prope montem
Oliveti ex parte boreali ad unum milliare est mons, qui appellatur Gali
laea : et dicunt quidam quod ille est mons praedictus ad quem discipuli
undecirn abierunt, non quia mons sit in Galilda, cum sit in Judaea,
sed quia mons iste appellatur Galilaea; alii, quod magis videtur, dicunt
hoc fuisse in monte Thabor, in quo Dominus transfiguratus fuit, qui vere
in Galilaea consistit."
wIbid. pp. 102 ff.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 341
described in the appendix added to the Fourth Gospel by a
disciple of John, occurred on the western slope of the Mount
of Olives.136 Emmaus is identified with Ensemes between
Bethany and Jericho. Eight days after the appearances on
Easter Sunday — to Mary Magdalene, to the women, to Peter,
to Cleopas and his companion, and to the disciples in Jerusalem,
Thomas being absent — Jesus appeared again to the disciples
now about to depart to Galilee, Thomas being present ; he then
led them out to the Mount of Olives where he was separated
from them, going before them, though now unseen, in the
way to Galilee. On this journey he appeared to the five hun
dred ; then in Galilee to the seven by the Sea, and finally on the
mount where he gave commission to the disciples and was re
ceived up into heaven.137
The plain statements of the Third Gospel and of Acts op
pose this construction, and the transposition of the restoration,
of Peter from the place assigned to it in Jno. xxi depends
wholly on an individual sense of fitness. The view of Rig-
genbach138 is simpler and in closer accord with the evidence.
The Jerusalem appearances, including an appearance to Peter
and the appearance to the disciples after eight days, — Thomas
being present — were followed by Galilean appearances, the ap
pearance to the seven by the Sea including the restoration of
Peter, and the appearance on the mountain — identified prob
ably with the appearance to the five hundred — and finally in
Jerusalem again, the appearance to James, and the farewell
appearance terminated by the ascension from the Mount of
Olives toward Bethany.139
136 Ibid. pp. 74 ff- m Cf. ibid. pp. in ff.
138 Aus Schrift und Geschichte, pp. 151 ff.
188 On the double tradition cf. Romberg, NkZ. 1901, pp. 315 ff. ; B. Weiss,
Leben Jesu,1 ii. 1902, pp. 507 ff. ; Beyschlag, ThStKr. 1899, PP- 507 ff. ; Leben
Jesu* i. 1902, pp. 433 ff. ; Horn, NkZ. 1902, pp. 349 ff. ; Abfassungzeit,
Geschichtlichkeit und Zweck von Evang. J oh. Kap. 21, 1904, pp. 94 ff. ; Bel-
ser, Geschichte d. Leidens u. Sterbens, d. Auferstehung u. Himmelfahrt d.
Herrn, 1903, pp. 454 ff. ; Wabnitz, Hist, de la Vie de Jesus, 1904, pp. 408 ff. ;
Sanday, Outlines of the Life of Christ, 1905, pp. 170 ff. ; D. Smith, The
Days of His Flesh, 1905, pp. 508 ff. ; an article in ChQuRev. Oct. 1905-
Jan. 1906, pp. 323-355, especially pp. 347 ff. ; Swete, The Appearances of our
Lord, etc., 1907; Westcott, The Gospel according to St. John, 1908, ii. pp.

342

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

It may be difficult to solve in detail all the problems which
arise on this general view of the relation of the narratives;
but this should not affect our confidence in its validity. There
will of necessity enter into every reconstruction of the course
of events a subjective element which will preclude the attain
ment of more than a certain degree of probability. Paul's
account is favorable to the tradition which locates the first ap
pearances — including the appearance to Peter — in Jerusalem
and on Easter Sunday; but the identification of the appear
ances which he mentions with particular appearances described
in the Gospels is less certain. Judging from the order in which
the appearance to James occurs in his list,140 the place assigned
to it in the Gospel according to the Hebrews cannot be his
torical.141 The fact however underlies and explains the po
sition of James and the other brethren of the Lord in the early
Church.142 It is perhaps more natural therefore, as the Jeru
salem setting seems to be excluded, to locate this appearance in
Galilee. As Paul is silent about the appearances to the women,
knowledge of them must be derived from the Gospels. The
presence of women at the sepulchre on Easter morning is
witnessed by all the Gospels,143 and appearances of Jesus to
them by two,. — an appearance to Mary Magdalene at the
sepulchre by John,144 and an appearance to certain women on
their way from the sepulchre by Matthew.145 As John's nar
rative is the more graphic and the Fourth Gospel elsewhere
presupposes knowledge of the Synoptic tradition, the appear
ance to Mary Magdalene is probably to be separated from the
appearance to the women, Mary having left the others when
she went to bring Peter and John word of the empty tomb.
333 f; J- Orr, The Resurrection of Jesus, 1909, pp. 149 ff; E. Mangenot,
La Resurrection de Jesus, 1910, pp. 240 ff. ; W. J. Sparrow Simpson, DCG.
ii. p. 508; The Resurrection and Modern Thought, 1911, pp. 70 ff.
140 1K.Ti(p$, rots SwSeKa, iirdvw trevraKoirtais dSeXtpois, 'laKwfiw.
141 Cf. Appendix, p. 351, I.
142 Gal. i. 19, ii. 9, 12; 1 Cor. ix. 5; Acts i. 14, xii. 17, xv. 13, xxi. 18; cf.
Jno. vii. 3, 5.
143 Mt. xxviii. 1 ff; Mk. xvi. 1 ff; Lk. xxiii. 55 f, xxiv. 1 ff, 10 f, 22;
Jno. xx. 1 ff.
144 Jno. xx. 1 ff. *"Mt. xxviii. 9-10.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 343
Upon her return and after the departure of Peter and John,
Jesus appeared to her. The appearance to the other women146
followed as they went to tell to the disciples the message of
the angel. The silence of the women as they left the sepul
chre147 cannot have continued indefinitely; for Mark shows
knowledge of their experience and Matthew and Luke alike
imply the breaking of what must have been a temporary state
induced by fear.148 The mingling of fear and joy149 in their
experience is not incongruous, nor does the appearance of
Jesus to the women render an appearance to Peter superfluous.
This may well have served the purpose of reestablishing Peter's
faith and of fitting him to become a center of influence in
gathering the scattered disciples and, eventually, their leader
on the journey back to Galilee: for the Gospels imply the
presence of the disciples in Jerusalem on Easter Sunday150 and
their scattering at Gethsemane151 cannot have been a " flight
to Galilee ".
There is no intimation in Luke that Cleopas and his com
panion were on their way to Galilee; and the isolated allu
sion to Emmaus is plainly indicative of authentic reminis-

143 Mk. xvi. 1 Mary Magdalene, Mary [the mother] of James, and
Salome; Lk. xxiv. 10 Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary [the mother] of
James, and the others with them.
147 Mk. xvi. 8.
148 Mt. xxviii. 8 ff ; Lk. xxiv. 9, 22 f.
149 Mt. xxviii. 8 ; cf. the description of the mental state of the disciples
in Lk. xxiv. 37 and 41 '• TTT0T>6ivres Si xal Ipupofloi yevbpevot . . . ert Si dreurTobvTwv
abrwv dirb ttjs xa/><" Ka* Bavpxj'(bvrwv ktX,
150 After the scattering at Gethsemane the presence of the disciples in or
near Jerusalem is implied in Mt. xxviii. 7 f ., 10 f . ; Mk. xvi. 7 ; Lk. xxiii.
49 (of yvwo-rol abr$); xxiv. 9 f., 24, 33 ff. ; Jno. xx. 18, 19 ff. ; the presence of
Peter in Mt. xxvi. 57 ff. ; Mk. xiv. 53 ff. ; Lk. xxii. 54 ff. ; xxiv. [12], 34;
Jno. xviii. 15 ff., 25 ff., xx. 3 ff. ; of John in Jno. xviii. 15 f., xix. 26 f ,
xx. 3 ff.
131 The scattering of the disciples is witnessed by Mt. xxvi. 56 ; Mk. xiv.
50, and was predicted in Mt. xxvi. 31; Mk. xiv. 27; Jno. xvi. 32; cf.
Justin, Apol. i. 50; Dial. 53; 106; see above note 38.
152 On the location cf. Schiirer, Gesch. d. jitd. Volkes usw. i. pp. 640 ff. ; on
the similarity of the narrative with Acts viii. 26-40 and possible deriva
tion from the family of Philip cf. M. Dibelius, ZNW. 191 1, p. 329.

344 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
An appearance to the disciples in Jerusalem153 seems to be
implied in Matthew.154 Luke describes an appearance to the
disciples and others as occurring late on the evening of Easter
Sunday, after the return of Cleopas and his companion. This
is probably identical with the appearance to the Twelve, which
follows the appearance to Peter in Paul's list, and with the ap
pearance to the disciples when Thomas was absent, which is
recorded by John.155
The hesitation or doubt of some when they heard the story
of the women156 and witnessed or learned of an appearance157
shows a desire for tangible, sensible evidence which was not
unnatural under the circumstances and is not an indication of
a late stage in the development of Gospel tradition. Its exag
geration in later narratives158 may have had an apologetic or
an antidocetic motive, but there is no reason to question its ex
istence. Its duration in individuals can be fixed if definitely
indicated,159 but its presence is not in itself proof of an initial
experience. Those who doubted on the mountain in Galilee
may have been among the disciples to whom Jesus had already
appeared; but it is quite possible that Matthew in following a
source160 has mentioned the Eleven specifically as present for
the purpose of reporting the carrying out of Jesus' direction
and the fulfilment of his promise, without noting the presence
of others. Certainly the whole incident cannot be assigned to
an earlier period on the ground of Matthew's unwillingness
to record the doubts of the disciples.161
103 Lk. xxiv. 36 ff.
134 Mt. xxviii. 16 (oB iTdfcro abrois) .
155 1 Cor. xv. 5 ; Jno. xx. 19 ff.
153 Lk. xxiv. 11.
137 Mt. xxviii. 17; Lk. xxiv. 37; Jno. xx. 24 ff.
133 [Mk.] xvi. 11, 14 ff, the addition in the Freer Ms. — cf. Gregory, Das
Freer Logion, 1908 — and the Coptic Document ; cf. Appendix, p. 352, III.
139 Jno. xx. 26 ff.
1,0 In xxviii. 17 oi Si is introduced abruptly and the oB ird^aro abrois is not
adequately grounded in the preceding context. Likewise in verse 9 the
antecedent of abrais is MapidpT) WlaySaXTivr) ml i) &XXt) M.apla{verst 1), although
it seems probable that Mary Magdalene was not actually present on this
occasion. 161 Cf . above p. 336.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 345
Jesus' promise before his death, repeated in the message of
the angel and of Jesus to the women, that he would " go be
fore his disciples into Galilee " seems to imply personal leader
ship rather than temporal precedence or prior arrival.162 The
changed form of the message in Luke,163 even if it be based
on Mark, is intended to introduce another feature, to doubt
the authenticity of which there is no other ground than the
suspicion that Luke begins at this point an unhistorical elimi
nation of the Galilean appearances. But this elimination is
unhistorical in Luke, as the elimination of the Jerusalem ap
pearance to the disciples is unhistorical in Matthew, only when
the narratives are held to be exclusive of facts which they do
not record. Luke's narrative is plainly determined by interest
in the Jerusalem appearances. It is greatly condensed.
Whether or not it be possible to show that Luke's source con
tained an account of Galilean appearances, some break in the
temporal order164 is demanded in the interest of a rational in
terpretation of the closing scene. Luke cannot have meant165
or intended his readers to think of Jesus' final separation from
the disciples as occurring late at night. And if such a break
be admitted, the words of Jesus bidding the disciples " tarry
102 Mt. xxvi. 32 ; Mk. xiv. 28 : Trpodfa bpds els tt)v TaXiXalav; cf. Mt. xxviii.
7; Mk. xvi. 7 {wpodyei). This interpretation is commended both by the
context of the original promise and by the usage in Mk. x. 32 : T)aav Si iv rfj
bSip dvaflalvovres els 'lepoiroXvpa, Kai t)v Trpodywv abrobs 6 'I-rjffovs ktX . Cf . also Mt.
ii. 9, xxi. 9; Mk. xi. 9; Lk. xviii. 39; Acts xii. 6, xvi. 30; but on the other
hand, Mt. xiv. 22; Mk. vi. 45; Mt. xxi. 31.
163 xxiv. 6 : pvT]o-BT\Te ws iXdXyaev vpiv en wv iv Ty TaXtXala Xiywv rbv vlbv tov
dvBpwrrov bri Sei TrapaSoBTJvai ktX.
134 Either after verse 43, 45, or 48 ; cf . Plummer, St. Luke, ICC. pp. 561, 564.
165 This follows not only from a careful examination of Lk. xxiv but
from the definite statement in Acts i. 3 that the appearances continued
during forty days. To those who admit the Lukan authorship of the
Third Gospel and Acts this should be conclusive, even if the consequences
do not contribute to the stability of the Galilean theory of the appearances.
Harnack however having characteristized the " forty days " as a myth
{Apostelgeschichte, 1908, p. 129) is disposed to admit its early origin
[uralt] only as a messianic-apocalyptic theologoumenon {Neue Unter-
suchungen zur Apostelgeschichte, 1911, pp. 113 f). For a different view of
the " forty days " — by which the appearance to Peter is dated — cf. B. W.
Bacon, AJTh. 1911, p. 402.

346 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
in the city " 166 will not exclude the appearances in Galilee
which are implied in Mark and recorded in Matthew and John.
Following the appearance on the eighth day after Easter,167
the disciples went to Galilee. The appearance to the seven by
the Sea probably preceded the appearance on the mountain.168
The fishing scene may imply in the Gospel of Peter the taking
up again of an old occupation in the despondency and despair
which followed the dissipation of cherished hopes ;169 but such
an interpretation of it is excluded in John. The disciples are
in Galilee at Jesus' command — as John and his readers would
know from Matthew170 — and they could not have been in de
spair of Jesus' cause in the thought either of the author or of
the reader of Jno. xx. The commission of Peter which is con
nected with this incident, like the commission of the disci
ples,171 is not necessarily connected either logically or tem
porally with the first experience of an appearance of Jesus.
The author of Jno. xxi not only felt no incongruity in the
order but specifically calls this the third time that Jesus ap
peared to his disciples. To insist that it must have been the
first because the author calls it the third is arbitrary;172 and
there is no adequate literary justification for the separation of
the two incidents of this scene.
The identification of the appearance to the five hundred
with the appearance to the Eleven on the mountain in Galilee
and of that to all the disciples — in Paul's list — with the final
appearance in Jerusalem at the time of the ascension from the
Mount of Olives toward Bethany is both natural and highly
probable. Of the three views concerning the place of the appearances
the Jerusalem theory has least to commend it and the evidence
""xxiv. 49; cf. Acts i. 4.
1,7 Jno. xx. 26 ff.
Cf. Jno. xxi. 14 : toOto t)St) rplrov i<pavepwBi\ 'Itjaovs rots paBTtrais iyepBels ix
vexpwv. 189 Cf. above p. 333-
173 On the relation of the Fourth Gospel to the Synoptic Gospels cf.
Zahn, Einleitung. ii. pp. 507 ff..
171 Mt. xxviii. 18 ff.
171 Cf. Lyder Brun, ThStKr. 1911, p. 167.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 347
against it is clear and convincing. For this and other reasons
the Galilean theory is generally considered the critical alter
native to the double tradition. It is however closely associated
with the " flight to Galilee " theory ; and this is contrary to the
historical evidence. Even the Gospel of Peter represents the
disciples as present in Jerusalem until the end of the feast, and
certainly therefore until the third day, if not longer. This
being true, it is impossible to hold against all the evidence ex
cept the Gospel of Peter that the journey to Galilee was made
in ignorance of the empty tomb and the message of the angel.
The transfer to Galilee of the appearance to Peter — recorded
by Luke in a Jerusalem setting — is arbitrary and made in the
interest of the general theory. This theory moreover is not
adequately supported by inference from Mark, by the hypothet
ical contents of the lost ending of Mark, by the Gospel of
Peter, and by a critical transformation of Jno. xxi. Its treat
ment of the Gospels as literary embodiments of a twofold,
but mutually exclusive tradition, is supported indeed by the
affirmation of axiomatic validity for its own historical premise,
but this only discloses the intrusion of an unsound skepticism
between the interpreter and his sources,173 the deepest roots of
which are not historical but philosophical. The close associa
tion of this theory with the interpretation of the appearances
as visionary experiences — whether objectively or subjectively
occasioned — is of course not accidental.174 Its bearing on the
resurrection itself and the transformation of Christianity,
which the elimination of this element from its historic faith
involves, are not concealed.
The theory that maintains the validity of the double tradi
tion offers an explanation of the documentary evidence by at-
173 Cf. J. Weiss, Jesus von Nazareth, Mythus oder Geschichte, 1910, pp.
84 f. This attitude toward the sources is not confined to the radical type
of criticism; and Weiss' statement is made in a form broadly applicable
to contemporary historical method ; cf . also p. 93.
1,4 Kreyenbiihl's repudiation and criticism of the vision hypothesis is
interesting but not significant, for his own theory of the psychological
genesis of the resurrection faith in the triumph of the messianic-apocalyp
tic idea over popular ghost-fear is equally naturalistic and opposed to the
plain implications of the historical sources {ZNW. 1908, pp. 273 ff) ; cf.
J. A. Cramer, ThT. 1910, p. 213.

348 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES
tempting an interpretation of it in accordance with the prem
ises of the documents. Both Paul and the primitive Christian
community believed that Jesus rose from the dead and that he
appeared to certain persons. The records of fact underlying
this belief are consistent in regard to its essential features,
though no one of them attempts to set forth the different ele1
ments in their various relations. Concrete events have in
fluenced the narratives, but here as elsewhere the Gospels are
not dominated by the modern interest in exact sequence in time
or minute local description. They record enough to make
their witness quite plain in its broad aspects and not intract
able to a constructive treatment which shares their premises.
But when these premises are rejected, the effort to discover a
different factual basis for the belief which the documents re
flect necessarily results in a treatment of the sources, the vio
lence of which is less apparent but not justified because it
forms part of a particular theory of the character and develop
ment of early Christianity.173
The method which treats the Gospel narratives as supple
mentary176 — the so-called " method of addition "• — yields a re
sult that fairly interprets and is supported by the objective
evidence of the documents. With the increasing recognition
of the evidence for the early date of the Synoptic Gospels,
their sources, — of whatever kind and constitution — being still
earlier, — carry back the witness of the documents to the time of
the eye-witnesses. And among these there was no difference
of opinion concerning the factual basis which underlies the
tradition recorded by the Gospels in concrete and varying
forms. To admit with Harnack that the Gospel of Luke was
written before 70 A.D. and early in the sixties,177 is to accept
a fact which has an important bearing on the origin of the
sources of the Synoptic Gospels, — a fact which makes it diffi
cult, as Harnack himself foresaw,178 to regard as legendary
their accounts of supernatural events. For if the Gospels em-
1,5 Cf. B. B. Warfield, AJTh. 1911, pp. 337 ff., 546 ff., and J. A. Cramer,
ThT. 1910, pp. 217 ff.
173 Barth, Hauptprobleme d. Lebens Jesu2 1903, p. 218.
177 Neue Untersuchungen zur Apostelgeschichte, pp. 81 ff.
173 Die Apostelgeschichte, p. 221, n. 2.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 349
body the view of Jesus which was current in the primitive
Christian community about 60 A.D. — as Heitmiiller admits179
— or earlier — as Harnack's dating of Luke requires — the re
jection of their witness cannot be based upon their differences
or upon purely historical considerations. Recourse must be
had to a principle springing ultimately out of philosophical
conceptions by which their unanimous witness to essential fea
tures in their portraiture of Jesus may be set aside.180 It is not
strange therefore that this type of Gospel criticism finds itself
confronted by a still more radical type181 against which it can
with difficulty defend the historical minimum permitted by its
premises.182 And this only raises more acutely the issue con
cerning the validity of the premises upon which an attitude
179 Cf . the following note.
338 Cf. the principle formulated and applied to the Gospels by Schmiedel
in EB. ii. col. 1839-1896, and more recently by Heitmiiller in DGG. iii.
191 1, pp. 359-362. After pointing out that the earliest sources of the Synop
tic Gospels do not go back of but reflect merely the view of Jesus which
was current in the Palestinian community from 50-70 and formulating as
the canon of historical trustworthiness the generally accepted [allgemein
anerkannten] principle of contradiction — that those elements of Gospel
tradition may be accepted as surely trustworthy which are not in accord
with the faith of the community to which the general representation be
longs — Heitmiiller says (p. 361) : Our scrupulousness [Skrupulositat, or
Bedenken (p. 377), or Vorsicht (p. 396)] "must be especially active
against all the things that were especially dear to the early Christians ; to
which belong the faith in Jesus' Messiahship, his near return, the whole
subject of so-called eschatology (kingdom of God), the passion and resur
rection, and the miraculous power of Jesus ; where the heart and the theol
ogy or the apologetic of the early Christians were especially interested,
an influence on historical tradition or construction must be feared " ; cf .
also an exposition of the " serological " principle or the " method of
pragmatic values " by B. W. Bacon, HThR. 1908, pp. 48 ff. — privately en
dorsed by Harnack, cf. AJTh. 191 1, p. 374, n. 4 — and JBL. 1910, i. pp.
4iff; and the theory of the " messianisation " of the earthly life of Jesus
in Bowen, Resurrection in NT. pp. 402 ff., 421 ff., 439. On the other hand
cf. the acute criticism of the literary and historical methods which char
acterize this point of view by Franz Dibelius, Das Abendmahl, 1911, pp. 1 ff.
181 Kalthoff, J. M. Robertson, W. B. Smith, Jensen, A. Drews, etc.
182 Cf. Bousset, Was wissen wir von Jesus, 1904; ThR. 191 1, pp. 373 ff. ;
J. Weiss, Jesus von Nazareth, Mythus oder Geschichte, 1910; a review of
Weiss by B. B. Warfield in PrThR. ign, pp. 332 ff.; M. Dibelius in ThLz.
1910, pp. 545 ff. ; Windisch in ThR. 1910, p. 163 ff., 199 ff. ; 1911, pp. 114 ff.

35°

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

of distrust toward the early Christian view of Jesus as re
corded in the Gospels and embodied in the earliest sources
which they incorporate is maintained. But if the early Chris
tian view of Jesus be true in its essential features — and it is
attested by all the historical evidence — it may confidently be
expected that the totality of the Gospel witness in its concrete
details will come into its rights, which are the rights — as its
witness is true — of Jesus, the Christ, who by his resurrection
and appearances became the author of Christian faith at the
inception of the Church's life, and who is still the ever living
source of faith, the Lord of life and glory.
199 ff. ; A. Drews, Die Christusmythe, ii. 191 1 — Ein Antwort an die Schrift-
gelehrten usw. ; Holtzmann, PrM. 1900, pp. 463 ff. ; 1907, pp. 313 ff, ; ChrW.
1910, pp. 151 ff. ; Case, AJTh. 1911, pp. 20 ff., 205 ff., 265 ff. ; The Histori
city of Jesus, 1912.

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 351

APPENDIX.
I. Gospel according to the Hebrews : Hieronymus, Liber de viris
inlustribus, Gebhardt u. Harnack, TV. xiv. 1896, p. 8.
' Dominus autem cum dedisset sindonem servo sacerdotis, ivit ad
Iacobum et apparuit ei ', (iuraverat enim Iacobus se non comesurum panem
ab ilia hora qua biberat calicem Domini, donee videret eum resurgentem a
dormientibus) rursusque post paululum, 'Adferte, ait Dominus, mensam et
panem ', statimque additur : ' Tulit panem et benedixit et f regit et dedit
Iacobo Iusto et dixit ei : ' Frater mi, comede panem tuum, quia resur-
rexit Filius hominis a dormientibus '.
Cf. 1 Cor. xv. 7. The secondary character of this narrative is plain
even if " dominus " be read with the Greek translation ( 6 icupios) for
" domini " in the clause " qua biberat calicem " ; cf. Lightfoot, St. Paul's
Epistle to the Galatians, 1892, p. 274; Harnack, Gesch. d. altchr. Lit. bis
Euseb. i. 1, p. 8 ; ii. 1, p. 650 n. 1 ; Resch, Agrapha2 Gebhardt u. Harnack,
TU. NF. xv. 3-4, 1906, pp. 248 ff; Handmann, Das Hebrder-Evangelium,
1888, pp. yy ff. ; Schmidtke, Neue Fragmente u. Untersuchungen z. d.
judenchr. Evangelien, Harnack u. Schmidt, TU. 3. Reihe, vii. 1, 1911, p.
37; on the other hand cf. Zahn, Gesch. d. nt. Kanons, ii. pp. 700 ff. ; For-
schungen, vi. 1000, p. 277; W. Bauer, Leben Jesu usw. p. 164; Bowen,
Resurrection in NT. p. 424 n. 2.
II. Gospel of Peter: Klostermann, Apocrypha,2 Lietzmann, KIT. 3,
1908, pp. 7 f.
xii 50 "OpBpov Si TT\s KvpuxKT)s Mapiap. t) MaySaXTjvt), pjxBf)rpia rod Kvplov ([rj]
<poj3ovpivr] Sid robs 'lovSabvs, iireiSTj idJXiyovro birb ttjs Spyijs, obx i-jrotTio'ev iirl Tip
pirfipaTi rov Kvplov & elwBeaav iroieiv al yvvaiKes iirl rois airoBvrjo-Kovcri rois Kai dyairwpiv-
01s abrais) 51 Xafiovira peB' eavTijs rds iplXas i)Xffev iirl rb pvripeiov frirov r)v reBels. 52 Kai
i<po(3ovvTO pij tSwaiv abrds ol 'lovSaibi Kai fe'Xryop- " el Kai pTj iv iKelvrj tt} Tjpipa tJ
io-Tavpwffrf iSvvr)&7ip£v KXavaai Kai KbypaffBai, k&v vvv iirl tov pvT\pjaros abrov TroiT)awp£v
ravra. 53 rls Si diroKvXlo-ei Tjpiv Kai rbv Xlffov rbv reBivra iirl tt)s Bbpas tov pvqpelov,
Xva eltreXBovo-ai -rrapaKaBeo-Bwpev abrip Kai iroiT)awpev rd bipeiXbueva ; 5* piyas yap t)v b
XlBos, Kai tpoftovptffa pt) tis i)pS.s tS-g. Kai el pij SvvdpeBa, k&v iirl ttjs Bbpas fidXwpev A
tpipop/sv els pvr]pAJ0-bvT)v abrov^Kai\ K\abo-wpev KalKoipwpe&a iwseXBwpev els rbv oIkov T)p.wv."
xiii 55 Kai iireXBovo-ai ebpov rbv rdtpov T)vewypivov Kai Trpoo-eXffovo-ai irapiKvr,av iKei,
Kai bpwo-iv iKei Tiva veavlffKov KaBe^bpevov [iv] piffw tov Tdipov wpatov Kai TrepipefiXTi-
pivov o-toXtiv XapTTpordTT)v, Saris i<pi\ abrais' M " tI tfXBare ; rlva faretTe ; pT) rbv
ffravpwffivra ixeivov ; dviffTT) Kai dirrfXBev el Si pT) irujTebeTe, irapaKV^/are Kai tSere rbv
rbrrov ev&a iKeiro, Sri obK ecriv aviary yap Kai aTTjXBev iKei Sffev direardX'q.''^ 57 rbre
al yvvaixes <pofST\Beiaai eipvyov.
xiv 58 'Hy Si reXevrala i)pipa twv dfvpwv, Kai iroXXol rives iiftpxovro brroo-TpicpovTes
els robs oIkovs abrwv rrjs ioprijs TTav<Tapivr\s. 59 ijpeis Si ol SaSexa paBitral tov Kvplov
iKXatopev Kai iXvirobpeffa, Kai iKatrTos Xvrrobpevos Sid rb avpfidv dirTtXXdyTi els rbv oJkov
abrov. 60 iyw Si sZlpjwv Hirpos Kai 'AvSpias 6 dSeXipbs pov Xafibvres T)pwv rd Xlva
dTTT)XBapev els T-ijc BdXaaaav Kai i)v abv T)piv Aevels b rob ' AXipatov, Sv nbpios. . . .

352

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

III. Coptic Document : translated from Schmidt, SAB. 1895, pp. 707 f.
" Mary, Martha and Mary Magdelene go to the grave to anoint the body.
Finding the grave empty, they are sorrowful and weep. The Lord ap
pears to them and says : ' Why do ye weep, cease weeping, I am [he]
whom ye seek. But let one of you go to your brethren and say : ' Come,
the Master is risen from the dead.' Martha went and told it to us. We
spake to her : ' What hast thou to do with us, O woman ? He who died
is buried and it is not possible that he lives.' We did not believe her,
that the Redeemer was risen from the dead. Then went she to the Lord
and spake to him : ' None among them believe me, that thou livest.' He
spake : ' Let another of you go to them and tell it to them again.' Mary
went and told it to us again, and we did not believe her. She returned
to the Lord, and she likewise told it to him. Then said the Lord to Mary
and her other sisters : ' Let us go to them.' And he went and found
us within and called us outside. But we thought that it was a spirit
{(pavrao-la) and believed not, that it was the Lord. Then spake he to
us: 'Come and . . Thou, O Peter, who hast denied his [Preuschen,
<me>] thrice, and dost thou deny even now?' We drew near to him,
doubting in our hearts that perhaps it might not be he. Then spake he to
us: 'Why do you still doubt and are unbelieving? I am he who spake to
you about my flesh and my death and my resurrection, that ye might know
that I am he. Peter, lay thy finger in the nail-prints in my hands, and
thou Thomas lay thy finger in the spear-thrust in my side, but do thou
Andrew touch my feet, thus thou seest that she . . to those of earth.
For it is written in the prophet, ' fantacies of dreams . . on earth.' We
answered him : ' We have recognized in truth, that . . in the flesh.'
And we cast ourselves on our face[s] and confessed our sins that we
had been unbelieving."
Schmidt {SAB. 1908, p. 1055) thinks that the author of the Greek
original knew the passage in Ignatius ad Smyrn. iii : iyo yap xal pierd ttjv
dvdaraaiv iv aapKl abrbv oiSa Kai TTiarebw bvra. Kai 6're 7rpbs robs irepl Herpov 9jX6ev,
edJT] abrois- Xdflere, \pTfKa<jjT)aaTi pe Kai (Sere, bri ovk elpl Saipbviov do-wparov. Kai
ebBbs abrov rj<pavro Kai i-w'wTevaav, KpaOivres ttj aapKl abrov Kai t$ irvebpari (cf.
ad Trail, ix). Cf. also Hier. de vir. ill. xvi; Schmidt, SAB. 1908,
pp. 1047-1056 and ThLz. 1910, p. 796; Harnack, Theologische Studien
B. Weiss dargebracht, pp. 1-8; A. Mieyer, Auferstehung usw. pp.
81 f. ; M. R. James, JThSt. 1909-10, pp. 101, 290, 569; 1910-11, pp. 55 f. ; D.
P. Bihlmeyer, RBd. 1911, pp. 270 ff; Hennecke, Neutest. Apokryphen,
pp. 38 f; Preuschen, Antilegomena, pp. 83 f; W. Bauer, Leben Jesu usw.
p. 262.
IV. The Syriac Didascalia: translated from Achelis und Flemming
in Gebhardt u. Harnack, TU. NF. x. 1904, p. 107.
" Because then these days and nights were short, therefore it is written
thus [in the Old Testament quotation which precedes]. In the night

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES 353
therefore, as Sunday was breaking, he appeared to Mary Magdalene and
Mary the daughter of James, and in the morning-dawn of Sunday he en
tered into [the house of] Levi, and then he appeared also to us."
The account of the appearances follows an explanation of the manner in
which the word of Jesus in Mt. xii. 40 — the Son Man must be three days
in the heart of the earth — was fulfilled ; afterwards Jesus gives instructions
concerning fasting.
V. Tertullian, Apologeticum, xxi : Oehler, i. pp. 201 ff.
Ad doctrinam vero eius, qua revincebantur magistri primoresque Iudaeo-
rum, ita exasperabantur, maxime quod ingens ad eum multitudo deflecteret,
ut postremo oblatum Pontio Pilato, Syriam tunc ex parte Romana pro-
curanti, violentia suffragiorum in crucem Iesum dedi sibi extorserint . . .
Sed ecce tertia die concussa repente terra, et mole revoluta quae obstruxe-
rat sepulchrum, et custodia pavore disiecta, nullis apparentibus disci-
pulis nihil in sepulchro repertum est praeterquam exuviae sepulti . . .
Nam nee ille se in vulgus eduxit, ne impii errore liberarentur, ut et fides,
non mediocri praemio destinata, difficultate constaret. Cum discipulis
autem quibusdam apud Galilaeam, Iudseae regionem, ad quadraginta dies
egit docens eos quae docerent. Dehinc ordinatis eis ad officium praedi-
candi per orbem circumfusa nube in caelum est receptus ... Ea omnia
super Christo Pilatus, et ipse iam pro sua conscientia Christianus, Caesari
tunc Tiberio nuntiavit.
VI. Acta Pilati : Tischendorf, Evangelia Apocrypha,2 1876.
B XV. 5 (p. 321) edJT) irpbs abrobs b'lw<ri)d>- Kard tt\v iairipav ttjs Trapao-Kevijs, bre
pe iv (pvXaKTi KaTT]a<paXlaaTe, ineaov els irpoaevxTlv Si SXtjs tt)s wktSs Kai Si 8Xt)s ttjs
y)pipas tov trafifldTov. Kai tov pjeffovvxrlov bpw rbv olxov ttjs ipvXaKTJs Sri ifflKwaav
abrbv dyyeXoi riaaapes, dirb twv reero-dpwv yoviwv Karixovres abrbv. Kai elo-TJXBev b
'1t]o-ovs <I>s darpaTTT), Kai dirb toO tpbjiov eireo-ov els t<)c yijv. /cparijiros obv pie ttis x«P°s
ifaeipe Xiywv pi) 0o/3oO, 'lw<n)ip. elra irepiXaflwv Kared>[XT)ai pje xal Xiyei- irtiarpdipov
Kai tSe ris elpx. o-Tpa<pels obv Kai ISwv eiirov xbpie, obx olSa Tis et. X^yet ixeivos' iyw elpi
'ltjaovs, Sv irpoexBis ixT)8evo-as. Xiyw irpbs abrbv Sei^bv pjoi rbv rdipov, xal Tore TriaTebaw.
Xa^wv obv pie ttjs xeLPos d-jrtfyayev iv rip rddjw 6vti i)vewypivw. xal ISwv iyw ri/i'
aivSbva xal rb oovSdpiov xal yvwplaas eiirov ebXoyqpivos b ipxbpevos iv bvbpari xvplov,
xal wpoo-exbvijo-a abrbv. elra Xafiwv ue ttjs x6tP0s, dxoXovBobvrwv xal twv dyyiXwv,
ifyayev els ' Apipafflav iv Tip otxw pov, xal Xiyei pni- xdffov ivravBa !ws ijpipas Teaaapd-
Kovra. iyw ydp birdyw els robs puaBrtrds pav, tva wXi]po(popT)aw abrobs xijpvrreiv t^i*
ipi)v dvdo-raaiv [A. xv. 6 (p. 274) : ISob ydp iropebopai irpbs robs dSeXipobs pav els tt)v
TaXiXalav]. Cf. A xv. 6 (pp. 272 ff.) ; Gesta. xv. 5 (pp. 381 f.) ; Narratio
Iosephi, iv. 2 (pp. 467 ff.).
B. xiv. I (p. 318) : pes' iipjpas 8i bXlyas i)X8ov dirb ttjs YaXiXalas els rd 'lepoabXvpa
dvBpwTOi rpeis- b ets ii abrwv i)v lepebs bvbpjxri $tveis, 6 Srepos XcvIttjs bvbpari 'A77CUOS,
xai o irepos crrpaTiwriis [A. xiv. I (p. 259) SiSdffKaXos] bvbpari 'ASas. oBtoi t)X8ov
irpbs robs dpxiepeis xal eTirov abrois Kai rip Xaf- rbv 'lijo-ovv, Sv ipeis io-Tavptbo-are,
etSopvev iv ry FaXiXala perd twv IvSeKa p/xBiiTwv abrov els rb Spos twv iXatwv [A. xiv. I

354 THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES *
(p. 259) to xaXobpevov MaplXx- v. 1. MapfSTJx, MaXiJ/c, Mo<7>i}/c, Mopdjij, Manbre
sive Malech, Manbre sive Amalech, Mambre, Mabrech], SiSdaxovra irpbs ab
robs xal Xiyovra- iropeOBrjTe els irdvra rbv xbapjov xal xijpbiare rb ebyyiXujv, xal dffns
iruTTebaei xal fSaTTTiaBy awBiiaerai, Saris Si oil iriarebaei xaraKpiB^aerai. xal TouTa
Xiywv dvifiaivev els rbv obpavbv. xal iBewpovpjsv xal Tjpeis xal &XX01 7roX\o£ twv irev-
raKoalwv iiriKetva. Cf. A. xiv. I (pp. 259 f.), Gesta, xiv. I (p. 372) ; B. xvi.
2 (p. 322), A. xvi. 5 (p. 279), Gesta, xvi. 3 (p. 386) ; Descensus Christi, B.
i. [xvii.] (p. 417). In A. xiii. 1 (p. 255) the message of the angel to the
women at the sepulchre concludes : xal raxb iropevBeiaai etirare toTs paB-nrais
abrov Sri T)yipBi) dirb twv veKpwv, xal eariv iv tj TaXiXalf.. Cf. also xiii. 2 (p.
257), B. xiii. 1 (p. 317), Gesta, xiii. 1 (p. 369) ; Anaphora Pilati, A. 9 (p.
441)-

THE RESURRECTION APPEARANCES

355

VII. ABBREVIATIONS.
AJTh. The American Journal of Theology: Chicago University.
BG. Beweiss des Glaubens : Zockler und Steude.
BFTh. Beitrage zur Forderung christ. Theologie; Schlatter u. Lutgert.
ChQuRev. Church Quarterly Review; A. C. Headlam.
ChrW. Christliche Welt: Rade.
DCG. Dictionary of Christ and the Gospels: Hastings.
EB. Encyclopedia Biblica : Cheyne and Black.
Exp. Expositor: R. Nicoll.
HB. Handbuch zum Neuen Testament: Lietzmann.
HC. Hand-Commentar zum Neuen Testament: H. J. Holtzmann.
HJ. Hibbert Journal : L. P. Hicks.
HThR. The Harvard Theological Review : Harvard University.
ICC. International Crit. Commentary: Briggs, Driver and Plummer.
JBL. Journal of Biblical Literature: Society of Bibl. Lit. and Exeg.
JThSt. Journal of Theological Studies: Bethune-Baker.
KIT. Kleine Texte: Lietzmann.
MK. Kritisch-exegetischer Kommentar fiber das Neue Testament
begriindet von H. A. W. Meyer.
NkZ. Neue kirchliche Zeitschrift: Engelhardt.
OC. The Open Court: Open Court Publishing Company.
PrM . Protestantische Monatshefte : Websky.
PrThR. The Princeton Theological Review: Princeton.
RBd. Revue Benedictine: Maredsous.
RGG. Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart: Schiele u. Zscharnack.
RHLR. Revue d'Histoire et de litterature religieuses : fimile Nourry.
SAB. Sitzungsberichte d. konigl. preuss. Akad. d. Wiss. zu Berlin.
SNT. Die Schriften des Neuen Testaments : J. Weiss.
StBE. Studia Biblica et Ecclesiastica : Clarendon Press.
ThLBl. Theologische Literaturblatt : Ihmels.
ThLz. Theologische Literaturzeitung : Schiirer und Harnack.
ThQ. Theologische Quartalschrift: Belser.
ThR. Theologische Rundschau: Bousset und Heitmiiller.
ThStKr. Theologische Studien und Kritiken : Kattenbusch und Loofs.
ThT. Theologisch Tijdschrift: B. D. Eerdmans.
TU. Texte und Untersuchungen : Gebhardt und Harnack.
ZK . Kommentar zum Neuen Testament : Th. Zahn.
ZNW. Zeitschrift fiir die neutest. Wissenschaft : Preuschen.
ZThK. Zeitschrift fiir Theologie und Kirche: Herrmann und Rade.
ZwTh. Zeitschrift fiir wissenschaftliche Theologie : A. Hilgenfeld.

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
Charles Rosenbury Erdman

Introduction: Spiritual Life and Religious Activities. Phases emphasized
by Modern Movements.
I. Holiness. " Sinless Perfection " — " Christian Perfection " — " The Oberlin
Theory " — " The Transferred Self " — " Practical Holiness ".
II. Peace. " Quietism '' — " Assurance '' — " The Rest of Faith '' — " Perfect
Peace ".
III. Power for Service.
"The Gift of the Spirit "—" The Infilling of the Spirit"— "The
Baptism of the Spirit " — " The Pentecostal Movement ".
IV. Confidence in Prayer.
" The Ministry of Intercession " — George Miiller — Hudson Taylor
— Faith Healing — Seasons of Prayer.
V. Felloivship. " Christian Mysticism " — " The Indwelling Christ " — " Christian
Fellowship " — " Conventions " — " Retreats "
VI. Knowledge. Bible Study — Theological Seminaries — Bible Schools — Sabbath
Schools.
VII. Hope. The Study of Prophecy — Perversions of Doctrine — Inspiration of
Hope.
Conclusion: The Possibilities of Personal Progress.

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
The last century of Christian history has been characterized
by notable achievements in various spheres of religious thought
and endeavor. It has been an era of great activity in biblical
and theological science, of marked development in philan
thropic and social service, of unequalled progress in evange
listic and missionary work. All these activities have been
manifestations of the spiritual life of the church. In its es
sence this life has been the same in all ages, however varied
may have been its providential expressions and embodiments.
The absolute necessity of maintaining this life in vigor is
quite obvious. Upon it depends not only the service, and the
growth of the church, but its very existence. In these days of
vast and complicated religious enterprises there should be
proportionate efforts to insure the growth and development of
this essential energy. There is a temptation to attempt service
without strength, to project great movements without the
supply of power, to expect activities without life. It is there
fore encouraging to find, even in days of reputed spiritual
indifference, large groups of Christians who are facing the
problems of Christian experience, and, to use a conventional
phrase, are striving for " the deepening of the spiritual life ".
Obviously " the means of grace " and the processes of spiritual
growth are the same for all generations, yet it is helpful and
stimulating to note the phases of spiritual life which have been
emphasized by certain modern movements. Few of these
movements have been definitely organized or clearly defined,
yet they have expressed the aspirations of sincere souls for
something higher in Christian attainment, for something deep
er in Christian experience ; and their influence has resulted in
the elevation and maintenance of truer ideals of Christian liv
ing. Many of them have been attended by extravagances and

360 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
misconceptions, but these have been like waves which, as they
break above the surface, show the direction and power of cur
rents hidden and silent and strong. These movements draw
attention to elements which have never been wanting in the true
life of the church, but which need to be recognized and de
veloped continually if this life is to be maintained in purity
and developed in power. I
Holiness
Among the essential characteristics of the followers of
Christ, personal holiness has ever been regarded as of first
importance. Christians are " called to be saints ". Hence
there is a deep interest and significance in the " holiness
movements " which, under various names and in differ
ing forms, have appeared during the past century. Among
their leaders are many types, from the advocates of " sinless
perfection " on the one extreme, to the mild advocates of
" ethical revival " on the other ; yet all have emphasized the
Christian duty of closer conformity to the will and character
of God.
Occasionally those have appeared who claimed absolute sin-
lessness ; they confessed no further need of penitence and for
giveness; they claimed to have perfectly fulfilled the law of
God ; but they exerted slight influence and aroused little inter
est, possibly because their impeccability was a phenomenon dis
covered by none save themselves, while to unbiased observers
there was much in their ideals and actions which apparently
fell below a divine standard. This was notably the case with
the American " Perfectionists ", the followers of Noyes, who
held that Christ had returned to earth in the Apostolic age,
and so completed his saving work that all who accepted his
rule were no longer under law but under grace and could do no
wrong; but their conduct so far invalidated their claims that
unsympathetic neighbors broke up their community in 1847,
after an experiment of little more than ten years. " Absolute
perfection " does not seem to make a very serious appeal to the
modern imagination.

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 361
More commonly, however, the claim has been made of a
relative holiness, or of " Christian Perfection ". This doctrine
is of course associated with the name of John Wesley, who,
in the previous century, had advocated the theory, but had
carefully limited his statement by declaring that it was neither
a divine, nor an angelic, nor an Adamic perfection ; but such as
is possible for fallen but regenerated man. It does not exclude
ignorance and errors of judgment with consequent wrong
affections. " It needs the atoning blood for both words and
actions which are, in a sense, transgressions of the perfect
law ". As Wesley declared " it is the perfection of which man
is capable while dwelling in a corruptible body; — it is loving
the Lord his God with all his heart and with all his soul, and
with all his mind." While this doctrine has been subsequently
misrepresented, and has led to delusions and self-deceptions,
while even in its original form it is open to serious question and
criticism, yet there can be no doubt that it has been of wide and
helpful influence, and that the teachings of Methodism have
stimulated the desire for holier living, and have led many to
higher levels of Christian experience.
About the middle of the century there appeared a curious
phase of holiness doctrine, which was first advocated by two
theological students of Oberlin. According to the theory of
" the simplicity of moral action " it is impossible that sin
and virtue should coexist in the human heart at the same time.
"All moral action is single and indivisible; the soul is either
wholly consecrated to Christ or it has none of his spirit. The
two states may alternate. The man may be a Christian at one
moment, and a sinner the next, but he cannot be at any moment
a sinful or imperfect Christian ". Dr. Finney seems to have
accepted the logical conclusions of the theory and to have
taught that regeneration involved complete sanctification.
The errors in such a system it may not be difficult to dis
cover; yet at the same time it is not to be denied that Dr.
Finney proved to be a great power in promoting personal
holiness. While undoubtedly carrying his doctrine too far
and suggesting that a perfect choice of God is essentially a
perfect life, he did emphasize the responsible activity of the
human will. While Christians were apparently waiting for

362 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
some mysterious, divine impulse, and meanwhile were living
carnal lives of selfish indulgence, he sounded out his com
manding message of responsibility, of the duty of moral choice,
of the absolute necessity of immediate and continual effort to
attain the holiness which is possible for the believer and is de
manded of the follower of Christ.
An equally curious theory of holiness, which has had a
wider acceptance than is usually realized, has been falsely at
tributed to the Plymouth Brethren. It was a perversion of
" Plymouthism " and should never be regarded as forming a
part of that system. According to this peculiar theory, re
generation consists in the creation of a " new nature " which
is sinless, and which constitutes the " real self ". Meanwhile
the " old nature " still exists, but is no longer identified with
the " Ego ". Whatever this " old nature " may do involves
the believer in no sin, for he is identified with the new nature
which does no sin. Every Christian therefore possesses a dual
personality ; he is a veritable " Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde ",
only, no matter what may be done by him, he is accountable
only for the actions of the genial Doctor. This would be a
comfortable doctrine, if we could only persuade ourselves of
its truth ; but most of us are compelled to believe that the con
tinuous identity of personality is a fundamental fact in all
human consciousness and experience.
What the Plymouth Brethren actually taught was the con
trast between the tendencies, motives and inclinations of the
regenerate and unregenerate soul, and not a transferred nor a
dual personality. They continually exhorted believers to
" identify themselves " with the " new nature ", or in Pauline
phrase, " to reckon themselves dead unto sin ", " knowing that
the old man was crucified with Christ ". It was this scriptural
doctrine, or their possibly imperfect statement of this doc
trine, which was perverted into the theory of the " transferred
self ". " Plymouthism ", whatever its faults, never made for
antinomianism. It arose as a protest against the worldliness
of the church and the unscriptural practices of professing
Christians. Its adherents advocated absolute submission to the
scriptures, and proclaimed with clearness and fidelity the great
truths concerning the work of Christ, the justification and

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 363
standing of believers, and the absolute need of continual iden
tification with Christ. To this movement more than to any
other one influence the church is indebted for the teachings
and work of the late D. L. Moody. He was never identified
with the " Brethren ", yet he was fully imbued with their
doctrines and they formed the substance of his message.
Such an example may suggest the general relation of Plymouth
teachings to evangelical truth in general ; but it is in the specific
matter of the promotion of holiness that these teachings had
their most helpful influence, an influence extending widely be
yond the circles of the Brethren. According to these tenets,
the justified soul is free from the guilt both of " sins " and of
" sin ", from condemnation not only for actual transgressions
but also for the possession of an evil nature, and so of a ten
dency to sin. Of course if one allows that nature to express
itself in acts, those acts are sins, and bring with them guilt and
separation from God. But the mere possession of these evil
tendencies is not sin. " There is no condemnation for them
that are in Christ Jesus." The apprehension of such a truth
has lifted a crushing burden from many a soul and resulted in
immediate and unprecedented progress in holiness. The re
sult has been like the difference between the experiences de^
scribed in the seventh and in the eighth chapter of Romans.
It has come from the fuller understanding of what is involved
in the pregnant statement : " What the law could not do in
that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son
in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in
the flesh, that the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in
us who walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit." It is
this very truth of " the standing "of the believer, in spite of
his possession of evil tendencies, as stated by the Plymouth
teachers, which was perverted into the doctrine of the " trans
ferred self ". Possibly as stated by these teachers, — who were
not usually expert in metaphysical distinctions, and who often
were unconscious of the psychological implications of their
own statements as they spoke of old and new " natures ", of
identification with " the new man ", and identification with
Christ, — the propositions may have been open to such perver
sion ; yet none can sympathetically review the Plymouth teach-

364 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
ings without gaining a fuller apprehension of our relation to
God through Christ. In spite of their divisive tendencies,
their occasional misinterpretations of scripture and their fond
ness for controversy, the Plymouth Brethren have been exam
ples to their fellow Christians in practical separation from the
world, in loyal adherence to the great doctrines of grace, and
in personal holiness of life.
Another phase of holiness teaching with even less apparent
foundation in Scripture than could be found for the theory of
the " transferred self " was advanced by the advocates of
" The Higher Life ". While this movement had various
forms, and was indicated by different phrases, as " the second
blessing ", " entire sanctification ", or " complete salvation ",
its essential teaching was that absolute sinlessness might be
attained by a single act of complete consecration to God. It
was held that as a result of such a dedication of self and of a
simultaneous act of appropriating faith, a state could be at
tained where henceforth the believer would be kept from sin.
This extreme and obviously untenable position was soon modi
fied by suggesting that the experience to be secured was not
absolute sinlessness, but a perfection of Christian love, and a
relative holiness, which was later defined as a " deliverance
from known sin ". In this modified form the movement ex
erted wide influence. Among its leaders will be remembered
the name of R. Pearsall Smith, whose rather pathetic story
reminds us of the powerful and effective appeals made by these
teachers for the abandonment, not only of positive sins, but of
all " weights ", and hindrances to Christian progress, and for
a definite and complete consecration to Christ. It is to the
meetings held for such consecration, and to the suggestion of
the possibility of attaining a truer Christian experience, that
we are to trace the inception of the movement associated with
the names of Oxford, and Brighton and Keswick.
This last is the most definite and powerful and familiar of
all the movements for holiness which the century has wit
nessed. Like the advocates of " The Higher Life ", its early
leaders insisted upon an experience in the nature of a " crisis ",
and aimed to secure " freedom from sin ". Yet this crisis was
such, in its essence, as most believers needed to experience,

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 365
and the deliverance promised was from " known and dis
covered sin ". Some of these teachers insisted that the
" crisis " must be obtained by a mechanical process, involving
" seven steps ", which were to be taken by all, and in an in
variable order, to secure " the fullness of blessing ". Kes
wick teachers no longer hold such a stereotyped form of ex
perience to be essential or requisite. In fact the peculiarity of
the Keswick movement is that its true helpfulness has been
found, not in changing the doctrinal beliefs of its adherents,
but in aiding them to appreciate and appropriate the riches of
grace in Christ Jesus which are offered in common to all be
lievers. Its supreme aim is indicated in the invitation to the
original Oxford meetings in 1874, " For the Promotion of
Scriptural Holiness ", or in the title of the first Keswick gath
ering, in 1875, a " Convention for the Promotion of Practical
Holiness." The purpose therefore has been to make men holy.
It has never suggested " sinless perfection " ; it has advocated
no new doctrines of theology; but it has insisted upon the
necessity of abandoning all known sin, of complete dedication
to Christ, and of appropriating, for holy living, the power of
God in Christ.
Such a message the church needs to-day ; such a movement,
in some form, it should welcome and promote. Too long has
the mere mention of " holiness " awakened suspicion and a
conscious contempt for theories of " sinless perfection " on
the part of those who feel content with practices of sinful im
perfection. It is no new doctrine to declare that Christ came
to save us from the power as well as the guilt of sin; but it
comes like a divine revelation to many, who are in bondage
to some particular form of evil, to be assured that they may
enjoy and should expect continual victory. Every Christian
is familiar with the divine command : " Be ye holy for I am
holy " ; yet by what qualifications and excuses do we allow
ourselves to be guilty of pride and indolence, and covetous-
ness and censoriousness, of self-indulgence and spiritual in
difference ! Conscious of secret faults, yet facing our serious
tasks, we need to be reminded anew that our Lord will use
only clean vessels. Let us review the written pledges of di
vine help and divine fellowship, and " having these promises,

366 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
let us cleanse ourselves from all defilement of flesh and spirit
perfecting holiness in the fear of God ".
II
Peace.
A second element of spiritual life, which these movements
have emphasized, is the possibility of rest and peace of soul
and heart. This was the promise of the Master, " Come unto
me and I will give you rest ". This was his legacy : " Peace,
I leave with you, my peace I give unto you." This was the
continual salutation of the apostles : " Peace be multiplied unto
you ". Yet in how few lives is unbroken peace either an
habitual experience or a recognized possibility. In its place
are doubts as to acceptance with God, the distraction of press
ing duties, the depression of conscious and continual moral
failure, worry in the present and anxiety for the future. Yet
the leaders of these various movements speak, with an unques
tioned sincerity, of their experience of " perfect peace and
rest ". It is noticeable that the Brethren, the advocates of
" The Higher Life ", and the Keswick teachers have this in
common, that they have laid great stress upon the experience
of an abiding tranquility of soul. It is described by different
phrases, as " assurance ", or " the rest of faith ", or the " full
ness of blessing " ; but it seems to indicate an element of life
noticeably lacking in the modern church. The experience was
said to arise from different sources, and was explained on
different grounds, and in all cases was evidently distinct from
the Quietism of earlier centuries. According to the tenets of
the many sects who have been classed under this general term,
the perfect state of the soul is one of perfect quiet in which it
ceases to reason or to reflect either upon itself or upon God,
or to exercise any of its faculties, being completely under the
influence of God's Spirit, without performing the ordinary
acts of faith or hope or love. Modern spiritual movements
have known but little, if anything, of such speculative errors ;
and yet when open to criticism in their suggestions as to the
means of securing peace, it has been along a closely related line
of indicating a too passive acceptance of supernatural influen-

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 367
ces. Unlike the " Quietists ", modern teachers have always
insisted upon faith, and consciousness, and the active states of
the soul. If peace has come it has been the " peace of be
lieving ", if rest has been enjoyed it has been the " rest of
faith". Among the Plymouth Brethren the experience has been
known as " the assurance of salvation ". It has sprung from
confidence in a divinely wrought work of regeneration, in the
possession of a new nature, and in the promises of scripture.
It has been inseparable from belief in the atoning work of
Christ, in the renewing and sanctifying power of the Holy
Spirit, in the changeless love of God. Even though there were,
in the minds of many, certain mistaken conceptions as to the
" new nature ", this experience was evidently based on the ac
ceptance of truths which have been the common possession of
the church of all ages. There was nothing novel in this aspect
of their teaching; they were enjoying a peaceful assurance,-
perfectly possible for all, but utterly unknown by vast multi
tudes of the professed followers of Christ. Nothing would
be more helpful in preparing the modern church for service
than the possession of this confident " assurance of faith ".
In the case of the advocates of " The Higher Life " the ex
perience was not so much a peace born of a conscious accep
tance with God as a joyful but passive reception of deliver
ance from sin. If we associate the name of R. Pearsall Smith
with a call to holiness, we cannot fail to remember Hannah
Whitall Smith as an advocate of " the rest of faith ". When
reading " the Christian's secret of a happy life " one can
not but feel that too little stress is laid upon the need of human
effort, of resolution, determination, conflict; yet none the less
there is awakened a hunger of heart for the peace and rest and
joyous confidence which the writer shows to be the rightful ex
perience of every Christian, but which the average reader re
gards with the yearning of one who is tossing upon a troubled
sea, but dimly discerning the distant quiet haven he seems un
able to reach. The Christian life is of course a struggle, a
contest, a buffeting of the body, a warfare ; and any theory is
to be deprecated which makes us less mindful of the necessity
which is ever upon us to " watch and pray lest we fall into

368 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
temptation ". It is just possible that the very phrase " the
rest of faith " has at times concealed this aspect of truth. It
has come to us from the fourth chapter of the Epistle to the
Hebrews and has usually been employed, not only by advo
cates of the " Higher Life ", but by many other teachers, in a
sense rather at variance with the usage of the author of the
Epistle. It appears that he is speaking, not of a present rest,
but of a future experience, which he finally describes as " a
Sabbath rest " which yet " remains for the people of God ".
For the present there is continual conflict, yet there may be
continuous victory. " The rest of faith " should never denote
a state of inactivity. As a scriptural phrase it denotes the fu
ture experience of those who are united to Christ by faith ; and
if, by accommodation, it is applied to a present experience, it
should be employed to describe the peace of those, who, in the
midst of conflict, have the consciousness of a Saviour's pres
ence and confidence in his unfailing power.
Such is " the rest of faith ", as suggested by the teachers of
the Keswick platform. They have never held the theory that
sin is dead, or that it has been eradicated. They have ever
warned their hearers against the seductions of the " self-life ",
and of the power of " the world and the flesh and the Devil " ;
but they have sounded out the triumphant note ; " Thanks be
to God who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus
Christ ".
There can be peace amidst conflict, yet this thought does not
exhaust the meaning which Keswick teachers have intended to
embody in the phrase " the rest of faith ". There can be not
only peace in the midst of conflict, but restful service for
those at toil, and quietness of heart for those beset by the
perplexities and disappointments and uncertainties of life.
This again is no new doctrine. Such perfect peace has been en
joyed by unnumbered followers of Christ during all the pass
ing centuries, and is known to-day by many who never may
have heard of " The Higher Life ", of Keswick, or " the rest
of faith ". Yet the church can be glad that the message has
been so clearly emphasized in these latter days in which it is
peculiarly needed. " Christian Science " and " The New
Thought ", and similar movements which have promised peace

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 369
of mind and freedom from worry, might not have attained
their popularity and power, had Christians claimed and enjoyed
and manifested the rest of soul which Christ is ever ready to
give; or had they, in faith, obeyed the exhortation of Paul:
" Rejoice in the Lord always. In nothing be anxious; but in
everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let
your requests be made known unto God ; and the peace of God
which passeth all understanding shall guard your hearts and
your thoughts in Christ Jesus ". That such peace and rest
are possible to-day is the message of that beautiful hymn by
Miss Havergal, which, because of its frequent use, is insepar
ably connected with Keswick Conventions :
"Like a river glorious
- Is God's perfect peace,
Over all victorious
In its bright increase;
Perfect, yet it floweth
Fuller every day —
Perfect, yet it groweth
Deeper all the way."
" Stayed upon Jehovah
Hearts are fully blest ;
Finding, as he promised,
Perfect peace and rest."
Ill
Power for Service.
The true end of life is service. It is first of all " to glorify
God " if it is secondly " to enjoy him ". This obvious fact
has been overlooked by many advocates of the higher phases
of Christian life. They have been tempted to reverse the
order, if not to make the subjective experience an end in it
self. Yet even these teachers have not failed to call attention
to the indispensible work of the Holy Spirit. All modern
movements for the deepening of the spiritual life devote the
greater portion of their literature to the discussion of the
operations of the Spirit upon the soul and in the life of the

370 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
believer. In most cases, however, the purpose has been to so
relate the life to the divine will, and to be so endued with divine
grace, as to secure what is commonly designated as " power
for service ". The phrase itself is objectionable as open to a
misinterpretation. It may seem to suggest that spiritual power
is a distinct entity, imparted to the believer to be used in
Christian service; whereas in reality the believer is only the
channel or instrument which the Spirit employs. This would
be freely admitted by most exponents of the doctrines which
relate to spiritual experience. Many may have been guilty of
strange extravagances, and of curious misinterpretations of
Scripture, yet all have emphasized anew the divine message,
so much needed in these days of multiplied organizations, and
complicated religious machinery, and human programmes :
" Not by might nor by power but by my Spirit, saith the Lord."
The scriptural doctrine concerning the Holy Spirit does not
seem to be specially intricate or difficult to understand, how
ever varied may be its form of statement by different exposi
tors. The Christian Church through all the centuries has be
lieved that God, by his Spirit, is present with every follower
of Christ; that He grants needed grace for every experience in
life; that the essential condition of his fuller manifestation is
more complete devotion to Christ.
There is nothing mystical about the doctrine. It suggests
no need of sudden crises or mechanical and esoteric processes.
Yet a great number of modern movements, seriously intended
to secure greater efficiency in Christian service, have been led
by those who have intimated that either the presence or the
power of the Holy Spirit, is in some way extraordinary, and
that his gracious operations can be made possible only by some
special method or peculiar plan of action which will result in an
experience distinct, separate from and subsequent to conversion.
For instance there are those who teach that " The Gift of
the Spirit ", which was promised at Pentecost to all who re
pented and believed, is now granted only to certain Christians,
and as a gift separate from regeneration. They urge others
to pray for his coming, to seek for " the blessing ", to " re
ceive the Holy Ghost ". The scriptures, however, plainly teach
that to speak of a Christian in whom the Holy Spirit is not

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 371
dwelling, is a contradiction in terms. "If any man have not
the Spirit of Christ he is none of his " — he is not a Christian.
" No man can say, Jesus is Lord, but in the Holy Spirit."
One may have grieved Him by his life, or failed to yield to
his gracious bidding; but, in the Bible, Christians are never
urged to become holy in order that the Holy Spirit may
come to them; even the most impure were urged to cleanse
themselves because their bodies were already " temples of the
Holy Ghost ". It is at once the encouraging and inspiring
doctrine of scripture that the Comforter has come to abide
with every Christian forever. The prevalent misconception
has been due to the careless interpretation of certain passages.
(a) It is asserted that the Spirit came to the disciples at
Pentecost, although their acceptance of Christ and 'their re
generation were experienced long before. It may be an
swered that while at Pentecost there was a new manifestation
of the Spirit's power, he did not then for the first time, come
to the followers of Christ, but had long been with them, as
he was with Jesus, and with John and Mary and the saints of
old. Nor was the gift granted only to the eleven, but to all
the " one hundred and twenty " and to three thousand converts
on the day of their accepting Christ.
(b) The delay in the impartation of the Spirit to the Samar
itan believers, is adduced as an argument ; but it should be re
membered that the bestowment of special supernatural gifts at
the hands of the apostles is a matter quite distinct from the pre
vious regenerating and sanctifying operations of the Holy
Ghost. (c) Paul is said to have asked the followers of John the
Baptist at Ephesus whether they received the Holy Ghost,
" when they believed ", thereby implying that such a reception
is normally subsequent to the. acceptance of Christ. The suf
ficient answer is that they were followers of John the Baptist,
and that, when Paul preached to them Christ, they accepted
Christ, and immediately the Holy Spirit came upon them
with supernatural power.
The typical case for all believers is that of Cornelius and
his household. Even in the midst of the sermon, before any
open confession, or baptism, or laying on of hands, the full

372

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS

Pentecostal blessing was received. It is not necessary, there
fore, that a Christian should agonize in prayer, or by any
peculiar experience or in any particular place seek for "the
gift of the Holy Spirit " ; but rather he should be encouraged
so to live as to in no way grieve the divine inhabitant who has
come to abide in every believing heart, and so to seek the
glory of his Lord that he may use him continually for the
doing of fyis will.
The case of Cornelius may also serve as a helpful corrective
to many others, who, while believing in the presence of the
Holy Spirit with all believers, insist that " the infilling of the
Holy Spirit " is a unique experience, subsequent to regenera
tion, and only to be attained by some specified and uniform
prpcess. Certain teachers brought an unnecessary and un
fortunate discredit to the Keswick movement by the advocacy
of this theory. Six " steps " were insisted upon as prepara
tory to the desired experience : ( i ) Abandonment of every
known sin; (2) Surrender of the will and the whole being
to Jesus Christ; (3) Appropriation by faith of God's promise
and power for holy living; (4) Voluntary renunciation and
mortification of the self-life; (5) Gracious renewal or trans
formation of the inmost temper and disposition; (6) Separa
tion unto God for sanctification, consecration and service.
Then would follow the desired blessing, namely (7) Endue-
ment with power and " infilling with the Holy Spirit ".
Now it should be remarked that these seven acts or states,
at some time or in enlarging measure, should be those of
every Christian; but the first three should be regarded as in
separable from conversion; the second three should be con
tinuous processes; and the last, the goal of all, should be re
garded as an experience often to be repeated. As to the first
three, they are involved in a true acceptance of Christ; and
one who has taken those steps has been born of the Spirit who
has come to abide with him forever. The fourth is equivalent
to " taking up the cross " and must be done " daily ". The
fifth and sixth are descriptive of the progressive sanctifying
work of the Holy Spirit. The seventh is the normal state of
all Christians ; to be " filled with the Spirit " is as natural as
" not to be filled with wine ". Those who daily devote them-

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 373
selves to Christ should expect to be led and empowered and con
trolled by his Spirit. Yet this ideal state is not the usual state
of professed followers of Christ. There may be an interval be
tween conversion and the fuller manifestation of the Spirit's
power ; there need be none ; but there may have been some lack
of knowledge or imperfect obedience, or unconscious disloyalty
to the Master, and then gradually, or possibly by a sudden
crisis, a more complete knowledge and appropriation of Christ
results in a new experience of peace or holiness or power. In
such a case, however, this " second blessing " is only, what has
been well called, " the missing half of the first blessing."
This experience of being " filled with the Spirit " may be
repeated; the early disciples were filled again and again; sin
may have grieved the Spirit; or there may be need of some new
manifestation of his power; then repentance and renewed con
secration result in new blessing. The " second blessing " may
be less notable than the twenty-second. By insisting on a pro
cess of six steps resulting in a " crisis " called " the infilling
of the Spirit ", the false implication is given that to have been
" filled with the Spirit ", is to have attained a level which
never can be lost, to have been granted a gift which never need
be renewed, whereas we need daily fillings, and continual
bestowments, and " grace for grace ".
This " filling of the Spirit " may not be attended by the
manifestations which have been expected. Many Christians
torment themselves by the fear that they are not " Spirit-
filled " because they are judging themselves by some fictitious
or arbitrary standard. They are looking for some power of ut
terance, some specific result in service, some particular emotion
which the Lord may deny. It is not for us to dictate the
mode of his operation but to yield to his sovereign will.
The " fulness of the Spirit " may be an unconscious exper
ience. One most truly under his power will not at the time
be much concerned about himself, but will be conscious anew
of the love of God, or the glory of Christ. There is no sug
gestion in scripture that the Spirit glorifies himself or mani
fests himself ; he " sheds abroad in our hearts the love of God ",
he has come to " glorify Christ ". The Christian should not
be pausing to continually test his spiritual condition by self-

374

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS

imposed standards, but should ever be asking whether he is
wholly devoted to his Lord. Such devotion will be insepar
able from all that is meant by being " filled with the Spirit ".
In most cases the experience will be gradual. It is true that
in the early chapters of the Acts there were recorded sudden
and unusual manifestations of the Spirit's power; but, through
the entire course of the Epistles, only one such reference is
made. Wherever, in the Bible, such experiences are men
tioned, nothing is said of uniform " steps " or " processes ".
Repentance and faith and identification with Christ are men
tioned, and each one of these may involve a crisis; and then
the faithful following of Christ may involve a series of crises.
But normally the usual " means of grace " may be expected
to result in a gradual increase of power, enabling us to serve or
to suffer, or to grow into the likeness of our Lord.
Closely connected with these theories as to " the infilling of
the Spirit ", is the doctrine concerning, " The Baptism of the
Spirit ". This is defined as " a conscious experience, distinct
from and additional to regeneration, designed to give power
for testimony or service." It is also designated as " the endue-
ment for power ", or " the baptism for service ". It is obvious
ly, therefore, the claim of a similar experience more clearly
defined in character than " the infilling ", or is a specific appli
cation of the previous theories. It is supposed to be proved by
the same passages of scripture, and demands a similar series
of prescribed "steps". The latter are as follows: (i) Ac
ceptance of Jesus Christ as Saviour and Lord; (2) Renun
ciation of sin; (3) An open confession of this renunciation
of sin and acceptance of Jesus Christ; (4) Absolute surrender
to God ; ( 5 ) An intense desire for the baptism with the Spirit ;
(6) Definite prayer for this baptism; (7) Faith that the bap
tism has been given.
It is even more clear in the case of these steps, than in
those once insisted upon at Keswick, that the four which are
preliminary and preparatory to " the experience " are abso
lutely identical with those in conversion; if one has not " ac
cepted Christ ", " renounced sin ", " confessed Christ ", and
" surrendered to God ", he is not a Christian ; if he has taken
these steps he is a Christian, and as such has been baptized by

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 375
the Spirit into the one body of Christ. Special work may be
given to do, native talents may be developed, special gifts
may be received, but this will be as occasions may arise and by
the normal guidance and influence of the Spirit which animates
this " one body ".
The phrase " baptism with the spirit " is never applied in
the New Testament to an experience subsequent to conversion,
except in the case of the unique Pentecostal manifestation;
and if it is there applied to the little group of believers it is
also applied to the three thousand souls who were not previous
ly converted but on that day were united to the Christian
church. The impossibility of limiting the use of the term as
suggested by this theory appears at once on reading the ac
count of the conversion of Cornelius and his household. Here
the experience is described by such phrases as " poured out ",
" fell upon ", " received ", " baptized ", " gave " ; and it was
said by Peter to be identical with the experience at Pentecost
which was also described as either a " baptism " or a " filling "
or a " gift ". The scriptural usage is to apply the word " bap
tism " to the initial operation of the Spirit by which a believer
is regenerated and incorporated with the body of Christ, while
successive " fillings " describe subsequent special manifestations
of the Spirit's power. " One baptism but many fillings " seems
to be the teaching and the terminology of scripture.
But we are not so much intent upon the name as upon the
nature of the alleged " enduement for service". There seems
to be no reason for believing that the New Testament de
scribes an operation of the Spirit distinct from regeneration,
from the miraculous gifts of the early church and from the
continual supply of grace for the various necessities of the
Christian life; nor does it in any place suggest that power for
service can be obtained by any prescribed spiritual process, or
tour de force of faith. The conditions of spiritual power are
the same for all the experiences of the believer. Nor again
does Christian testimony confirm such a theory of a special
baptism given once and for all. Dr. Finney declared that he
received " an overwhelming baptism of the Holy Spirit " on
the day of his conversion, but that he needed to have this
same experience repeated again and again. The Spirit is an

376 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
abiding presence; of course he grants power for service,
but so too does he impart patience in suffering, and growth
in grace. It is laudable to desire an enduement of power; but
we should no more expect this to be secured by a mystical crisis,
than we should claim an instantaneous transformation into the
likeness of Christ by a sudden exercise of will. Why not as
properly expect a sudden " baptism for purity ", or " baptism
for love ", as a " baptism for power " ? And why are we to
suppose the supply of " power " is given once for all, and not as
frequently repeated as occasions may demand? Or, admitting
such bestowals to be repeated, why distinguish the first from
all the rest, and designate it by the special name of " the bap
tism " ? It is the duty of the Christian to devote himself to
the service of his Master, believing that by his Spirit, he will
equip him with all needed power for the accomplishment of
his perfect will. Crises will come and special difficulties will
arise, and particular manifestations will be given; but, for all
the experiences of life, the abiding Comforter will supply
every need.
The essential fallacy in the theory of " the baptism with the
Spirit ", is the arbitrary selection of one manifestation of his
indwelling, namely, " power for service", and of regarding it
as differently conditioned from his other operations, or as a
proof that the believer is truly under his control. This fallacy
is emphasized by the extraordinary developments of the recent
" Pentecostal movement " which has caused so much of excite
ment and unrest among many faithful Christian workers in
America, and England, and India, and China. It is taught
that one who is truly " filled with the Spirit " will be granted
the miraculous " gift of tongues ". This gift is coveted not as
an instrument for service, so much as a demonstration of " the
fullness of the Spirit ". Whether the whole movement is an
outburst of fanaticism, and whether the supposed gift is in
every case a pitiful delusion, are questions of fact to be deter
mined upon the investigation of evidence ; but it is beyond all
question that the movement is inspired by a false conception
and involves a mistaken theory. No one manifestation can be
selected as proof of the indwelling and the operation of the
Holy Spirit, least of all some extraordinary gift which tends

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 377
to draw attention to the possessor rather than to Christ the
giver. Such a movement is manifestly strongly contrasted, in its
unscriptural doctrines, with the teachings of those sane and
devoted Christians who have held their special theories as to
the " filling " or " baptism " of the Spirit. The influence of
the latter has been salutary ; it has suggested the unquestioned
truth that the lives of many Christians are so worldly and sel
fish that a " crisis " is truly needed, — a new consecration to
Christ, — to be followed by a " process " of increasing trans
formation into his likeness and of larger achievement in his
service. Much of the apparent divergence of views, among
those who have been discussing the biblical doctrine of the Holy
Spirit, is due to a difference in phraseology. All are united in
declaring that he is the source of all life and grace and power :
" And every virtue we possess
And every victory won
And every thought of holiness
Are his alone." IV
Confidence in Prayer.
Prayer is the vital breath of the Christian church, it is at
once the source and expression of its spiritual life; it, alone,
makes possible the inception and renders permanent its various
forms of service. The " secrets " of prayer have been " open "
during the whole history of the race; no recent discoveries
have been made as to its nature or conditions or power; yet
God has granted, during the past century certain definite mes
sages which have inspired the church to a new confidence in
prayer. There has been a new appreciation of the blessed
" ministry of intercession ". Many " hidden servants of the
King " have learned how to wield in secret an omnipotent
power which has achieved marvellous results in distant lands ;
while certain forms of public service have been so identified
with prayer as to stimulate others to depend more definitely
upon the willingness of God to honor the believing petitions of
his people. Of the latter two examples may be cited as illus-

378 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
trations of the many forms of testimony embodied in the
Christian history of the past century. George Miiller, the
founder of the great orphanages at Bristol, England, felt spe
cially called to a service which would prove that prayer is a
reality, and that definite petitions receive specific answers from
God. He undertook his great charity on a faith-basis, de
termining to solicit no funds, and to mention no needs save to
God alone ; and to do this, not to suggest a method which all
Christian workers should adopt, but to demonstrate a power
which all believers might wield. He conducted his work, not
only to save orphans from distress and to bring them to Christ,
but primarily to prove the efficacy of prayer. During all
the decades of his prolonged life he made no appeal for aid; in
times of special scarcity he even delayed the publication of his
annual report, lest it might suggest to his friends the need of
relief. He went directly to God. The record of that life, so
thrilling in interest, presents facts as to answered prayer which
can be explained away by no theory of coincidences, and by
no reasoning of naturalism. More than seven and a half mil
lions of dollars came to this one Christian worker in answer
to believing prayer.
A second familiar figure, which had a definite and inspiring
message to this century of Christians, was that of Hudson
Taylor. He never insisted that all Christian enterprises, nor
even that all Christian missions, should be conducted upon ex
actly the principles he followed in his work. He held that
other forms of organization might be quite as compatible with
a life of faith; yet he felt called to a peculiar work and for
its accomplishment his sole reliance was upon the power of
prayer. • At the time the eleven great interior provinces of
China were wholly unevangelized. That was a memorable day,
when, at Brighton, Hudson Taylor wrote on the margin
of his Bible : " Prayed for twenty-four willing, skillful work
ers, June 25, 1865." It was the actual record of the founding
of the China Inland Mission. How speedily the prayer was
answered is well known ; also how subsequently the specific pe
tition for " seventy new workers within three years " was hon
ored; and most remarkable of all, how, in 1886, the definite
request for "one hundred missionaries and money for their

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 379
equipment" was offered at the opening of the year with such
confidence that a meeting for praise was held to return thanks
for the blessed reply which the months would and did bring.
It all reads like the veritable romance of missions, and yet it
was designed of God, not only to open Inland China to the
Gospel, but to incline the hearts of all observing believers to a
new confidence in prayer.
Such are among the many examples which might be cited of
a renewed manifestation of the spirit of prayer, and to that
spirit are to be traced, in largest measure, all the great mis
sionary and benevolent activities of the church, during the
century just ending.
Such a prayer movement, as is not unnatural, has been marked
by certain occasional extravagances, and by partial misinter
pretations of the marvellous promises of God upon which
confidence in prayer is based. In this connection might be
mentioned, as illustrative, the movement which has been known
as " faith healing ", or " spiritual healing ", which has relied
upon the efficacy of " the prayer of faith." Such reference
should be made if only to state again the impropriety of con
fusing such a movement with " Christian Science " or " mental
therapy ". " Christian Science " is anti-Christian, involving a
false philosophy and a false religion. It denies the existence of
matter, the personality of God, the guilt of sin, the deity and
work of Christ. " Psycho-therapy " has no necessary connec
tion with religion, but is based on the scientific principle of the
effect of " mind upon matter " ; it endeavors to influence physi
cal conditions by mental states and processes. It is at times
allied with certain religious doctrines; and at others with the
usual practice of therapeutics.
" Faith healing ", however, is wholly a religious movement.
Its followers normally hold all the doctrines of Christianity;
only their understanding of the promises relative to prayer
are such as to lead them to abandon, in cases of bodily sick
ness, all suggested means, and rely wholly upon " the prayer
of faith ". In meeting this theory, or in opposing this practice,
one should be careful to admit that God can and may effect
cures without the use of known means, but should maintain
that it is not of faith to dictate either what God is to do, or

380 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
how he is to do it. Submission is of the very essence of prayer.
Nor are we to insist upon the use of some particular means;
scientists still differ as to methods of treatment. Above all we
should remember that there is a greater temptation among
Christians to resort to means without prayer than to depend
upon prayer without means.
Even such side currents as " faith-healing " suggest what
the direction of the stream has been. There are similar sug
gestions to be found in the appointment of special seasons for
prayer. Among these, the most notable is that at the opening
of the year, when according to the request of missionaries
in India, half a century ago, a special week has been observed
annually as a period of prayer " for the evangelization of the
world ". Such too are the days of " prayer for colleges ", and
the days of " prayer for young men ". In later years these
have been observed too much as days of preaching rather than
as days of prayer. In most churches, also, the weekly prayer
meeting is being displaced by a lecture, or maintained as a mere
formal service. The time has come for a new and definite
movement. There must be a new resort to prayer. The en
couragement has been given by providential examples and
credible witnesses. If the church is to succeed in accomplish
ing the great activities now projected, if she is to enter the
doors open before her, it can only be possible by a revival of
the spirit and practice of believing prayer.
V
Fellowship.
Prayer is not only petition but also communion; it sug
gests not merely intercession but fellowship; and many mod
ern writers and speakers express a definite longing for a more
real and conscious and direct communion with the Divine.
Such a desire and such a professed experience is characterized
as " modern mysticism ". There are and ever have been forms
of mysticism which are perilous, fanatical, and unscriptural;
but, in a certain sense, all Christians are mystics, although
not all mystics are Christians. The Bible is ever emphasizing
the privilege of divine fellowship, and suggesting the possi-

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 381
bility of meeting with God " face to face ". Paul has not been
improperly characterized as a " practical mystic " ; and it is not
difficult to discern the mystical elements in the teachings of St.
Augustine ; nor can one deny a certain reality in the experiences
of a St. Francis ; while St. Bernard, the mystic, speaks for the
hearts of uncounted believers as he sings :
" Jesus, the very thought of thee
With sweetness fills my breast ;
But sweeter far thy face to see
And in thy presence rest."
As a modern writer has suggested : " As soon as there comes
a consciousness of a divine response, in prayer or sacrament,
a sense of providential guidance, and faith begins to be con
firmed by experience, the resulting state may be called mystical,
since it involves a conviction of personal communion with
God, of contact, in one degree or another, with divine reality.
All Christian life, therefore, which is sustained by this con
viction is mystical at heart." This state has been common to
the greater number of Christians in all ages, but it has been
especially emphasized by certain modern teachers.
It may be noted that, in many minds, confusion has been
caused by the contrasted phrases used in describing this state.
Some today are speaking continually, as did Jeremy Taylor and
" Brother " Lawrence, of " The Practice of the Presence of
God ", others, as has been already suggested, dwell upon " The
Spirit-Filled Life ", while others emphasize the truth of " The
Indwelling Christ ". To many, a totally different experience
is suggested by each different phrase ; and the question is being
asked, most earnestly : " Should we seek for the conscious
presence of the Father, the Spirit or the Son." It suggests
another familiar question : " In prayer, should we address the
Father or the Son or the Holy Spirit ?" To the second ques
tion, it may be safe to reply, that there can be no impropriety in
addressing any one of the three persons of the adorable trinity ;
but the more common scriptural usage suggests prayer to the
Father, in the name of the Son, by the power of the Spirit. So
to the question occasioned by the varying phrases of the mod-

382 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
ern exponents of a true Christian mysticism, it may be replied,
that the experiences indicated are all identical, in so far as they
express the presence and indwelling of God. We have not
three Gods, and where one person of the Trinity is present, the
others are present also. The Holy Spirit has not come to take
the place of an absent Christ, but to make manifest a Christ
who is present. It was the Son who said, in conection with
the work of the Spirit : " If a man love me, he will keep my
word; and my Father will love him, and we will come unto
him and make our abode with him." It may, however, be sug
gested that the more frequent expressions in the New Testa
ment would indicate that in the matter of this divine fellow
ship it is well to emphasize the relation of the soul to God as
Father. Christ declared himself to be the way : " No man
cometh unto the Father but by me." " Through him," writes
Paul, " we have our access in one Spirit unto the Father."
A still more important question has been raised by the
modern mystics who have brought their helpful message to an
age of materialism and naturalism : " How is the conscious
ness of a divine presence to be secured?" In spite of much
that has been written to the contrary, in spite of many mislead
ing but popular figurative expressions, it should be maintained
that the human soul does not have an immediate and direct
consciousness of God. There is merely an acceptance of
what God has revealed of himself as recorded in the Scrip
tures ; faith accepts what is said of his presence and of the pos
sibility of communion with him; acting upon this belief there
comes to the soul a validating, by experience, of the truth
believed, and so an assurance of " the presence of God ", " the
power of the Spirit ", or " the indwelling Christ ". Many a
heart is sorely distressed by the feeling that God is very far off ;
even in the moment of prayer there is no sense of His presence ;
and so doubts arise as to the state of the soul, self-condemna
tion is felt because an experience is lacking which is supposed
to be common and necessary to all Christians; and thus dis
couragement issues in despair. It would not be just to attri
bute such frequent and painful experiences to the influence of
the modern teachers under consideration ; only it does seem at
times, that they should show more clearly that the state they are

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 383
describing is not due merely to nature or a " new-birth ", but to
the simple acceptance, by faith, of revealed truth. The recorded
words of our Lord and his apostles thus form the ground
of our belief in the presence of God. As Lord Tennyson once
remarked to a friend : " God is with us on this down, as we
two are talking together, just as truly as Christ was with the
two disciples on the way to Emmaus. We cannot see him, but
he, the Father and the Saviour and the Spirit, is nearer, per
haps, now than then, to those who are not afraid to hear the
words of the apostles about the actual and real presence of God
and His Christ with all who yearn for it."
It should also be noted that the modern Christian mystic has
not wholly escaped the peril which has beset the mystics of all
the ages, namely, of using phrases, if not claiming experiences,
which suggest the loss of human personality by an absorption
into the divine. This has been particularly the peril of those
who have dealt with the inspiring and blessed truth of " the
Indwelling Christ." Some have accepted with too great literal-
ness the words of the Revised Version : "I have been crucified
with Christ, and it is no longer I that live, but Christ liveth
in me "; or that other fruitful phrase; " For to me to live is
Christ." They have asserted or suggested that their being
has been lost in Christ, so that their actions and emotions are
those of Christ ; as a Christian worker of world-wide notoriety
recently declared in public : " I died with Christ, and now my
thoughts are the thoughts of Christ, my resolutions
are those of Christ; yes, I have the actual blood of
Christ flowing in my veins." The perilous implications
of such pantheistic utterances are at once apparent. One
cannot insist too strongly today upon the eternal persistence
of personality. The most blessed conceivable experience
of the soul will ever be that of a personal relation to a
personal God. The mistake, in connection with the passage
from Galatians, is in forgetting that the apostle at once adds :
" And that life which I now live in the flesh I live in faith,
the faith which is in the Son of God " ; so that " The In
dwelling Christ " should never suggest a mere subjective ex
perience but a conscious and continued dependence upon an
objective Christ. So too the phrase " For to me to live is

384 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
Christ " should be read in the context of the chapter, and it
will probably be found to mean that the service of Christ
was the ideal and sum of the apostle's life, and certainly was
never intended to even suggest the absorption of personality or
the loss of personal identity.
It should, however, be remarked at once, and with great
emphasis, that the truth suggested by the phrase, " The In
dwelling Christ ", has come into many lives, in recent years,
with a transforming and transfiguring power. There has been
no thought of a transfusion of natures, or of a loss of conscious
responsibility, or the absorption of personality; yet the con
sciousness that the divine Christ was really present, at every
hour, to strengthen, to guide, to control, and to effect through
the surrendered life his own gracious purposes, has effected a
spiritual revolution, resulting in holiness and power and peace.
However wise it may be to carefully safeguard the sacred
boundaries of personality, the Church needs to be reminded of
all the inspiring implications of the Master's promise : " Lo,
I am with you always," and to believe more in the reality of the
experience embodied in the hymn of the Huguenot :
" I have a Friend so precious,
So very dear to me;
He loves me with such tender love,
He loves so faithfully,
I could not live apart from him,
I love to feel him nigh,
And so we dwell together,
My Lord and I."
But Christian fellowship denotes not only a -divine com
munion, but a human fellowship which the divine makes pos
sible and by which it can be strengthened. Not the least help
ful of modern movements therefore, have been those de
signed to unite believers in a common effort to increase the
knowledge of spiritual realities and to attain the higher
spiritual possibilities. The reference is not to the movement
for church union and Christian cooperation, significant as
these may be; but rather to those voluntary gatherings of

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 385
Christians intended to cultivate that life which may be ex
pressed in such ecclesiastical movements or in the various
forms of modern Christian activity.
A single recent issue of an English weekly contained the
announcements of twenty-two conventions to be held for the
specified purpose of " deepening the spiritual life ". These are
indicative of the large number of similar gatherings being
held in all parts of the world. The attendance varies from
the little groups of intimate friends to the vast assemblies of
many thousands. The exercises consist commonly in praise
and prayer, in Bible study, and in conference upon various
phases of Christian life and service.
Such gatherings are obviously beset by their peculiar perils.
They minister in part to some who prefer the delights of re
ligious excitement to the dull monotony of active service, and
to others who mistake their growing admiration for popular
speakers as increased devotion to Christ. They seem to
strengthen the belief of still others in the fallacy that spiritual
growth is necessarilly conditioned upon special places and
times. However, when the largest possible deductions have
been made, the net result of these gatherings has been of in
calculable benefit to the church of Christ. Multitudes of
Christians have been strengthened in their faith, and quickened
in their zeal, and prepared for larger and more fruitful ser
vice. Possibly the best known of the summer Conferences have
been those of Keswick, and Mildmay and Northfield. What
ever in other days may have been found to criticize in " Kes
wick teaching ", it is now most careful and conservative and
scriptural. The inspiration and authority of the Bible, the
regenerating and sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit, the
obligation of world-wide missionary enterprise, and the per
sonal return of Christ, are among the doctrines assumed as
fundamental. Stress is laid upon the privileges and possibili
ties of the Christian life, in truer holiness and in more com
plete consecration.
The Northfield Conference, established by Mr. D. L. Moody
in 1880, at his own home in Massachusetts, has attained a
world-wide celebrity and influence. According to the opinion

386 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
of many who are unfamiliar with its history and character, it
is supposed to teach some peculiar type of doctrine or to ad
vocate some particular form of experience. On the contrary it
stands for the doctrines universally accepted as evangelical,
and maintains as its platform the truth of the divine person and
redeeming work of Christ and the authority of Scripture as
the word of God. In different years special stress has been
laid upon particular phases of truth and life ; the widest variety
of character and talent and ecclesiastical connection has been
represented by the teachers ; but the outstanding feature of all
the conferences has been the manifest aim to prepare believers
for active Christian service.
It was also under the guidance of Mr. Moody, and at Mount
Hermon, across the river from Northfield, that the first great
summer conference for students was held, in 1886. Among
the two hundred and fifty college men present, some twenty-
three were already pledged to service in the foreign field ; but
before the conference closed the number had increased to one
hundred. Two of these were chosen to visit the American
colleges and to present the claim of the world-wide work.
Such was the origin of " The Student Volunteer Movement
for Foreign Missions ", which has furnished recruits for every
evangelical missionary society and has made its impress felt
in all the quarters of the globe.
These conventions are named simply to suggest the wide
and stimulating influence of these summer gatherings. Yet
it would be unfortunate to pass without notice the large num
ber of smaller conferences held in various places and at differ
ent seasons of the year. " Quiet Days " and " Retreats " and
" Meetings for Fellowship " have been observed in increasing
numbers. They have given new life to the stated services and
regular activities of countless churches and mission stations.
Such seasons of communion and prayer and recollection and
exchange of views and experiences, are not possible for all,
but are to be prized and cherished and sought. They nurture
and express the life which is found in all sections of the
Christian church, and bring to mind the words of the prophet :
" Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another ;
and the Lord hearkened and heard it, and a book of remem-

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 387
brance was written before him, for them that feared the Lord
and that thought upon his name." VI
Knowledge.
The Niagara Conference antedated by a few years the Con
ference at Northfield, and continued its meetings for more than
twenty-five years. It exercised a wide influence in establishing
and determining the nature of other summer conventions ; yet
it maintained a character absolutely unique, in that its sessions
were devoted exclusively to " Bible Study." Few inspirational
or devotional addresses were delivered, and the time was
wholly occupied by the exposition of Scripture. That which
was essential at Niagara became a feature of all subsequent
conferences, and naturally suggests a phase of spiritual life
which has been strengthened by many modern movements;
namely, the effort to secure a fuller knowledge of the revealed
truth of God.
The past century has been an era of Bible Study. It has
produced a notable and numerous company of scholars who
have attained distinction in various fields of Biblical science, —
in exegesis, in historical and literary and textual criticism, in
archaeology and Biblical philology, in systematic and Biblical
theology. It has been marked by the appearance of new ver
sions and translations and editions of the Bible, copies 01
which, in most attractive form and furnished with marginal
references and with notes and other helps for the reader, have
been supplied at low prices, in every language, and scattered
in almost countless numbers among all the nations of the
world. New methods of Bible study have been introduced,
commentaries have been published adapted to every class of
readers and an unprecedented interest has been awakened and
maintained. However, the most notable movement of the century, in
this connection, has been the establishment of theological
seminaries. Of the nearly one hundred and fifty Protestant
theological institutions in America, all except the (Dutch)
Reformed at New Brunswick (1784) and the United Presby-

388 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
terian at Xenia (1794) were founded in the nineteenth cen
tury. Those under the control of. the Presbyterian Church
were established as follows: Princeton 1-811, Auburn 1819,
Western 1825, Lane 1829, McCormick, 1830, Dubuque 1852,
Danville 1853, Biddle 1867, Newark 1869, San Francisco 1871,
Lincoln (Theological Department) 1871, Omaha 1891. Con
trary to a popular misconception these are all schools for Bible
study ; all of their curricula are designed to produce " able
ministers of the word ". An opposite impression has been pre
valent and a different tendency has been noted, due in part to
the nomenclature of the departments, to the enforced stress
laid upon the discussion of critical theories, to the consideration
of changing conditions in the church and in society, to the
study of the vast and complicated activities of modern Christi
anity. Nevertheless, there is manifest on every hand an earn
est desire to maintain the original purpose and to produce, as
leaders for the church at home and abroad, ministers who are
" mighty in the Scriptures ".
In additions to these institutions there have recently arisen
a number of Bible Schools and Institutes, designed more par
ticularly for those who have not had the collegiate training ex
pected of students in the seminaries, and intended to train lay-
workers who are to serve in churches at home and in various
spheres of usefulness on the foreign field.
Then, too, the Young Men's Christian Association, since
its first inception in 1844 has sought to fulfill the original aim
of its founder and to "develop the spiritual well-fare of young
men " by religious services and Bible study. One of the inter
esting developments of recent years has been the work among
the colleges and universities of the world. In America alone
nearly thirty thousand college students are enrolled in volun
tary study classes.
The agency for promoting Bible study, in which the church
should feel the deepest interest and concern at the present time,
is unquestionably, the Sabbath School. In its present form it
is a modern institution. Founded by Robert Raikes of Glouces
ter, England, in 1780, it did not exist as a church institution
nor was it organized as an association until early in the last
century ; and it is since then that it has attained its marvellous

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 389
growth, until it now numbers some twenty-five million schol
ars. It has now become practically the sole agency for the
religious education of the young. It is to be deprecated that,
neither in " day-school " nor at home, attention is given, to
any appreciable extent, to Christian instruction. The existing
conditions only emphasize the duty of the church to provide for
the Sunday- School even better methods and to furnish more
careful instruction, that the coming generation may from child
hood " know the holy Scriptures which are able to make them
wise unto salvation."
An increase of biblical knowledge is absolutely essential for
the life of the church. Revealed truth is the instrument used
by the Spirit in His renewing and sanctifying work. The
study of the word without the guidance of the Spirit results
in rationalism ; but dependence upon the guidance of the Spirit
without the study of the word results in fanaticism. If the
church is to continue to manifest a divine life by her evangel
istic and missionary and beneficient activities, that life must be-
controlled by the Spirit of God, but nourished and supported
by a continual appropriation of the word of God.
VII
Hope.
One portion of biblical teaching which has received special
attention during the past century is that which is related to
the Return of our Lord. This " blessed hope " has ever been
an essential feature of Christian experience, and its quickening
forms an essential factor in those movments which have been
making for the maintenance and deepening of the spiritual life
of the church.
It is a truth which the New Testament brings into vital con
nection with every Christian virtue. When the Master incul
cated faithfulness in service it was to servants who were told to
look for the Lord's return : " Occupy till I come." When he
suggested the need of spiritual life and vigilance he speaks the
parable of the Bridegroom's Return. When John wishes to
impress the need of purity in life, he is saying : " Abide in Him,
that ye may have confidence and not be ashamed before Him

390 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
at His coming ; . . . . and when He shall appear we shall be like
Him ;  and every one that hath this hope in Him, purifieth
himself even as He is pure." When James suggests patience
under provocation and in spite of delay, it is with the words :
" Be ye also patient for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh."
When Paul brings comfort to those in bereavement it is with
the blessed assurance that " the Lord Himself shall descend
from Heaven ".
By this hope the church has been sustained and purified in
all ages. It has embodied the belief in her hymns and her
creeds; and our own Westminster Confession of Faith
closes with these significant words : " So will He have
that day unknown to men, that they may shake off all carnal
security, and be always watchful, because they know not at
what hour the Lord will come; and may be ever prepared to
say, Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly."
Attention has been called to this doctrine by scholars like
Dean Alford and Tregelles and Meyer, by preachers like
Spurgeon and the brothers Bonar, and McCheyne, by Moody
and many living evangelists, by the " Plymouth Brethren " by
conventions like Mildmay and Northfield, by special " prophetic
conferences" and by an increasing prophetic literature. Like
most important truths it has been earnestly debated by those
who differ as to its details and particulars, and it has been piti
fully distorted and brought into disrepute by those who have
borrowed its phrases and denied its realities. Of these mod
ern perversions possibly the most dangerous and distressing is
that which has been konwn as " Millenial Dawn ". This is a
strange conglomerate of heresies. It declares Christ to have
been a mere creature, asserts that in the incarnation he had
but one nature, that his death was that of a mere man, that his
body was not raised from the dead, but that Christ became di
vine after his death. And, as to the Return of the Lord, in
which the interest of the system centers, it is taught that
" Christ came to earth in October 1874 ", and has been here in
actual person ever since; in 1878 all " the saints " were raised
and are now also upon earth at this present time; in 1881 all
the professing Christian systems, the " denominations ", were
repudiated of God and he has given no recognition to them

MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS 391
since; the end of the present order of things takes place in
191 4. Such are the teachings received by great throngs of
hearers not only in London and New York but in cities and
towns throughout England and America. Such are the vagar
ies contained in volumes which are circulated, not by tens of
thousands, but by hundreds of thousands, three editions con
taining the following figures: 3,358,000; 1,132,000; 909,000.
Such instances of perverted doctrine should only awaken the
church to a more careful study of the Scriptures, and to a more
earnest proclamation of the truth as it is contained in the
word of God. Such faithful testimony could not fail to be
used of the Lord in deepening the spiritual life and increasing
the devotion of the Church ; " for the grace of God that bring
eth salvation hath appeared, teaching us that denying ungodli
ness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously and
godly in this present world, looking for that blessed hope and
the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus
Christ." Conclusion
Such are some of the elements in Christian experience which
modern spiritual movements have emphasized and developed.
They present inspiring possibilities to every follower of Christ,
and indicate lines of progress which each can hopefully pur
sue. As, at the very first, it was pointed out that the external
activities of the church are wholly dependent upon the spiritual
life of the church for their continuance and growth, so, in con
clusion, it should be noted that this corporate life is absolutely
conditioned by the spiritual strength and vigor of its com
ponent members. Reference has been made to certain gen
eral movements, not with the purpose of presenting an his
torical review, but of securing a practical result in the encour
agement of individual believers to advance in spiritual attain
ment, to experience what is real and vital in all the phases of
life to which allusion has been made, to strive more consciously
to attain the goal towards which, in all centuries the followers
of Christ have been pressing, — the goal of likeness to their
Lord, of transformation into His image, — " the prize of the

392 MODERN SPIRITUAL MOVEMENTS
high calling of God in Christ Jesus ". All may not adopt the
same methods, all may not choose the same paths, but each
should seek for definite progress. The ways are not so di
vergent as is sometimes supposed. Experiences often differ
more in name than in reality. " The means of grace " are
not secret; they are common to all believers; but by more
faithfully following most familiar paths, new experiences will
be known, more glorious possibilities will burst upon the view,
more perfectly will be realized the fullness of life in Christ
Jesus. In many cases the advance will be marked by definite
spiritual crises ; unsuspected aspects of " self " will assert them
selves to be conquered and subdued ; " weights " hindering the
progress, but long regarded as innocent, will be laid aside with
definite resolve; sudden temptation will rise in ever more subtle
and surprising forms, to be withstood and overcome; and
all this may mean fierce struggles and sudden advances; but,
for most Christians, the progress will be more gradual, step
by step, hour by hour, day by day ; clouds will rise, conflicts be
met, only in their case, light and darkness, peace and struggle
will seem less sharply contrasted. Uniformity of Christian
experience is not essential ; what is necessary is the continual ef
fort and resolution and courage which make possible individual
progress. By the faithful use of proffered means, by appropri
ating promised grace, each one can advance, can inspire others
to higher experiences, can encourage the church to larger at
tainments in life and service, can
" Strengthen the wavering line,
Stablish, continue our march
On, to the bound of the waste,
On, to the city of God."

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCI
PLINE
Frederick William Loetscher

Introduction. The practical theological disciplines ; their relation to the
theoretical theological sciences.
The practical theological disciplines as sciences and as arts.
Discussion. I. Homiletics as a science.
i. Etymology and history of the word " homiletics "
2. The task of scientific homiletics : the true idea of preaching.
a. Homiletics and the Scriptures.
b. Homiletics and the church.
c. Homiletics and the personality of the preacher.
3. The independence of homiletics as a science : the relation
of homiletics and rhetoric, historically and philosophically
considered.
II. Homiletics as an art.
1. Objections to the use of " art " in preaching.
2. Homiletic art as a synthetic product.
a. The results of theological science.
b. General culture.
c. Moral and spiritual influences.
3. Homiletic art as a technique.
a. Making the theory of preaching practical.
b. The study of representative preachers.
c. The practice of the art.
Conclusion.

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCI
PLINE1
Among the many principles which either philosophic or
utilitarian interests have employed in organizing the various
branches of theological study into a curriculum, there is none
more natural or useful than that which divides the disciplines
into two classes, the theoretical and the practical. It was
Schleiermacher who gave the first adequate treatment of this
principle in his discussion of the subjects belonging to this
second group, the so-called practical theology. He unfolded
their distinctive genius and showed their peculiar function in
the service of the church, and vindicated for them a place of
equal honor and dignity by the side of the other disciplines.
His theological encyclopaedia is, of course, open to the ob
jection from the dogmatic standpoint that it undermines the
Protestant principle that the Bible is the only rule of faith.
Nor in technical respects does his work in the several fields of
practical theology equal the creative impulse which he gave
for the scientific cultivation of the whole domain. But since
his time it is an established view in the world of theological
education that the very existence of the church as a self-prop
agating institution calls for a science of its living functions.
Into how many distinct divisions this knowledge is to be dis
tributed must be determined in the light of concrete ecclesiasti
cal developments. Besides homiletics, which we may provis
ionally regard as a part of the necessary service of the Word,
there have thus far been erected, in the ever-expanding circle
of practical theological sciences, the following : liturgies, or the
science of public worship; catechetics, or the science of the
religious training of the young and the spiritually immature;
'This discussion contains the substance of an Inaugural Address de
livered in Miller Chapel, September 24, 191 1.

396 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
poimenics, or the science of pastoral care; halieutics, or the
science of evangelistic and missionary endeavor; archagics,
or the science of organized Christian work in the congregation.
We do not mention ecclesiology or sociology in this connec
tion, for these subjects ought rather to be treated as belong
ing to the theoretical sciences.
Now, all these so-called practical theological sciences have
this as their essential characteristic : they are, alike in the
etymological and in the common meaning of the words, both
theoretical and practical. That is, they are, on the one hand,
sciences in the strict sense of the term ; on the other hand, they
are sciences which have it as the one and only reason of their
existence that they transfer into the realm of life and activity
all that has been yielded for their special benefit by the other,
the purely theoretical theological sciences. These latter deal
solely with knowledge, the knowledge, we may say, of the es
sence and of the historical manifestations of Christianity,
They, too, may be, and by their professors in theological sem
inaries commonly will be called practical. And so, of course,
they are; but only in that broader sense that they are capable
of being made to serve some end that in the narrower sense of
the word is practical. In fine, dogmatics, ethics, the various
exegetical and historical sciences, whatever other worth they
may have, exist for the sake of the church. And just because,
when rightly cultivated they do not commonly carry upon their
faces the indications of their ecclesiastical value, it becomes
necessary to have another science, or rather group of sciences,
that will deal with this very problem of the inner and necessary
relation of the theoretical disciplines to the varied functions of
the church.
It must at once be added, however, that these practical
sciences may never rest in the domain of mere knowledge.
The iiTio-Trjuri must become a rexvij. Practical theology as
a science will have its theoretical elements; but these will al
ways have reference to an efficient ecclesiastical practice. Pre
supposing as a historic and present necessity the distinction
between the clergy and the laity, practical theology labors to
train, by every means within its power — the theoretical theo
logical sciences being one of the most important — a succession

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 397
of ministers of the gospel who will be " thoroughly furnished
unto every good work " ; and this task will continue until by
its performance the entire /\ao<; will have become the real
K\r)po<i of the Lord. Meanwhile, Vinet's pointed characteriza
tion of practical theology as a whole is true of every one of
its branches : " It is the art after the science, or the science
resolving itself into an art."
In the light of these general principles we may now dis
pose of the preliminary question touching the mode in which
homiletics, one of these practical theological disciplines, is to be
taught. Historically, the two possible extremes in method
have presented themselves, the purely scientific and the merely
empirical. The former is interested only in the determination
of the idea of preaching. The latter, looking solely at the
actual exercise of his powers by the young homilete deals only
with the most practical suggestions that can add to his im
mediate efficiency and skill. Neither of these views alone is
justifiable. The claims of both must be united. A course in
homiletics that does not teach the student how to preach would
not be entitled to any place in the schedule of seminary studies.
But this does not mean, on the other hand, that the work of
the future preacher is to be treated as a mere handicraft. Con
sidered, then, as a theological discipline, that is as one of the
studies incorporated into every good training school for the
ministry, homiletics must be treated both as a science and as
an art; in other words, as an applied science, or as a science
that resolves itself into an art.
In the development of my theme, therefore, I shall
proceed, in the first place, to set forth the idea or task of homi
letics as an independent theological science, and in the sec
ond place, to indicate the method by which I shall try to teach
homiletics as a practical theological art.
The very name " homiletics " points us to the distinctive
subject-matter of this science and the essential nature of its
task. Etymology, here as so often in the case of our theo
logical disciplines, is a safer guide than any a priori construc
tions can be. The term is derived from the Greek 6fu\(a,
which, alike in classical and in New Testament usage, preserves
more or less of its original along with the derived meanings —

398 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
a meeting in one place, an assemblage, mutual intercourse,
friendly conversation upon the basis of common interests. In
the four or five instances in which the noun or verb is found
in the New Testament, the word denotes a converse that pre
supposes a kinship in disposition, a sympathetic communion.
In the early church the term became somewhat technical, sig
nifying the brotherly, familiar, edifying address made in con
nection with the Scripture lesson at the private assemblies of
the Christians for worship. Out of this address, quite col
loquial in its simplicity, grew the more formal religious dis
course which became in time, next to the celebration of the
eucharist, the principal feature of the church service. Pres
ently, the conception of the ofuXla was in a double fashion
restricted. On the one hand, the word was limited to the re
ligious address made to the community of believers, the truly
Christian congregation, while the term Krjpvytt,a, the herald's
proclamation of the good tidings, was used to denote evange
listic or missionary preaching. On the other hand, as the
preaching of the church came more and more under the in
fluence of the classical traditions of eloquence, the word
o/uXia came to mean what we ordinarily understand by our
" homily ", a discourse preserving in large measure the simpler
structure and style of the primitive religious address, which
was often nothing but a quite artless series of comments on
the chosen Scriptural passage, while the more pretentious and
elaborate synthetic discourses were called \6yoi, orationes,
tractatus, sermones. Throughout its history, however, even in
the golden age of expository preaching, when the homily itself
became a more artistic production, the root idea of the word
was never lost sight of. Whatever its form may have been,
the sermon was essentially a necessary manifestation of the
life of the church striving to realize its true aim in self-propa
gation, a unique expression of that vital principle that every
where organized congregations of those feeling themselves a
community of believers in Christ Jesus.
Here, then, in the very philosophy of Christianity as a
spiritual force in human history do we find the basis of homi
letics as an independent science. In the beginning was the
Word. In time, the Word, becoming incarnate, achieved a

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 399
gospel. It wrought a work, it performed an act, so full of
divine power, that scarcely had its redeeming efficacy become
manifest to men, when there sprang into being under the
creative influence of this deed of grace, the three distinctive
elements of the characteristically Christian institution of
preaching : the Bible, or the completed inspired record and in
terpretation of the redemptive work itself; the church or the
society of believers regenerated by the Holy Spirit; and the
ministry, or the succession of officers qualified and called of
God to herald or teach the glad tidings of salvation. Scientific
homiletics, having as its task the development of the true idea
of preaching, will therefore deal chiefly with these three
closely connected problems : the sermon in its relation to Holy
Scripture; the sermon in its relation to the church; and the
sermon in its relation to the personality of the preacher.
I can only allude to some of the more important questions
that must be discussed in this domain, if the homilete is to
have an adequate theory of his art.
So far as the Bible is concerned, history has abundantly
showed that Christianity lives in and through its Word; that
is, by the faithful reproduction of the apostolic message in the
form of a personal testimony to its content. It is in no sense
an accident, but on the contrary a necessary consequence of
the different ecclesiastical principles involved, that the Roman
Catholic Church does not give the Word the place of honor
it has normally held in Protestantism. The sacerdotium there
eclipses the ministerium verbi. Doubless, in evangelical
churches the sermon has often received a one-sided emphasis
to the serious detriment of other parts of the service. Still,
it cannot be too often repeated that by as much as the pulpit
is thrust back, the altar comes forward. Spiritual religion
must magnify the Word, the Word of God and the word of
the man who truly preaches the Word of God.
It goes without saying, therefore, that the evangelical homi
lete, when he inquires as to the relation of the Bible to the
right idea of preaching, will find all manner of questions pre
senting themselves. I can only mention a few of the more
important by way of illustration. I say nothing here of such
matters as the lower and the higher criticism of the Biblical

400 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
documents, though it is at once apparent that these contro
versies have their part to play in fashioning the minister's
notions concerning his authority as a spokesman of the
Lord. Indeed, this whole question of the authority of
the preacher calls for a clear understanding of his pre
rogatives and duties. In what sense is he an ambassador
of Jesus Christ? To what extent does he belong to the suc
cession of the Hebrew prophets and the Apostles? Again,
what does preaching Christ mean ? How much does the word
of the cross include? What, if anything, has the message of
the modern pulpit to do with social and political affairs ? How
is the Old Testament to be made homiletically available?-
What is the homiletic accent of the Bible in theology? Or
perchance, can and may theology, as some aver, be kept out
of the pulpit? What is the office of the Holy Spirit in con
nection with the preaching of the gospel? In what respects
is Jesus to be taken as the model preacher?
These and kindred questions are so intimately related to the
very idea of the sermon that no homiletics, worthy of the
name of science, can afford to ignore them. But this is not
the place to attempt a detailed answer for any of them. Suffice
it to say that the main task here will be the inductive presenta
tion from the Bible itself of the apostolic as the original and
normative type of preaching. For the Scriptures are to the
preacher something more than a mere collection of suggestive
and inspiring motto-texts. They are themselves the great
sermon — not merely the inexhaustibly fertile but the supremely
authoritative homiletic treatment of the redemptive facts that
form the historic basis of our faith. The homilete's relation
to the Bible is always essentially expository. He is not to
read his thoughts into the sacred words that give him his
message, but on the contrary he is to make their meaning his
own. In order, therefore, to ascertain the right idea of the ser
mon, scientific homiletics must, in the first instance, go to the
Scriptures themselves to learn what preaching was under the
most favorable conditions, and at its highest and therefore
normative development, in the apostolic age. Indeed, few
studies preliminary to practical work in homiletics will be

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 401
more fruitful than those devoted to the consideration of the
various terms used in the New Testament to set forth the
work of the minister as a preacher; such as herald, ambassa
dor, evangelist, teacher, steward, nurse, shepherd, messenger,
and, above all, witness. This last has been especially exploited
by Christlieb in his Homiletics. It is by far the richest and
most comprehensive designation of the preacher's function,
and the extreme frequency of its occurrence, in the simple and
compound forms of the word, has led this author to the serious
proposal of substituting the name martyretics for homiletics.
And undoubtedly it gives the most vital conception of this
whole art. It is elastic enough to embrace both pastoral and
missionary preaching. It does a more ample justice than any
other to the personality of the preacher, emphasizing the per
sonal security he feels for the reality of that which he pro
claims. But, not to dwell upon such a detail, the idea of
preaching must be further determined in the light which these
characteristic terms cast upon its aim or purpose. Historically,
two views have vied with each other. Many would limit homi
letic theory strictly to congregational, that is pastoral or " edi
fying " preaching. Others, paying more attention to the
actual conditions of our churches, in which it is by no means
safe to treat all members, much less all worshippers at a
given service, as genuine believers, insist that homiletics must
expand its scope to include evangelism. Sickel has therefore
suggested a new name for our science, halieutics, a noun de
rived from the Greek verb to catch fish, the allusion being to
Christ's promise to make his apostles fishers of men. And
Stier has similarly proposed the name Ceryctics, from Kfjpvf;,
the herald who proclaims the gospel in its newness to the un
converted, and the problem of the subject-matter of preaching
is inseparably connected with these. Here the student will
need to consider the validity of what have been called the
material and the formal principles of all evangelical homi
letics : Christ is to be preached ; and the Christ to be preached
is the Christ of the Scriptures. This will secure for the cross
of Christ the same central significance in the sermon that it has
in the gospel itself. Once more, the ruling spirit in which the
preacher is to discharge his task enters as an essential element

402 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
into the idea of preaching as set forth in the Bible. This can
be no other than the consummate Christian grace, the love
which will reflect in some worthy measure the love by which
God glorified himself in the salvation of men. And not least
will this part of scientific homiletics have to wrestle with the
final question, How can a modem preacher secure for his
message the note that is so conspicuously lacking in the pulpit
of our day, the note of authority?
An adequate view of the task of homiletics must further,
as we have said, take account of the fact that preaching pre
supposes not only a public but a church. The pulpit is not a
mere platform. The society of believers is not a mere natural
brotherhood. It is a spiritual <j>iXaSe\<f>(a. The proclamation
of the message of faith becomes normally, therefore, an es
sential part of the church service. And this fact in turn di
rectly and powerfully influences the very idea of preaching.
It restricts the message to its true sphere, that of religion. It
tends to make and keep the speaker devout and reverent and
earnest. It stimulates him to make his discourse in the un
objectionable sense of the term artistic; as worthy a produc
tion as he can make it for the honor of God and his holy house,
and for the delight of the people assembled to celebrate their
priceless possessions in Christ Jesus. It inspires him to enter
that joy of the Lord which is itself a source of strength for
him and his hearers. Wherever, therefore, the idea of the
church and of its corporate life fades, there preaching declines.
As another has said, " It does not lose in interest, or in the
sympathetic note, but it loses in power, which is the first thing
in a Gospel. If the preacher but hold the mirror up to our
finer nature the people soon forget what manner of men they
are".2 And this becomes the more apparent when we remember that
even congregational preaching does not exhaust itself in the
mere elevation or improvement of the worship as such. For
while the latter is intended only to express, for the glory of
God, the existing faith of the people, the sermon is an effective
work in which the expression of the common or ideal faith
2 Forsythe, Positive Preaching and the Modern Mind, p. 86.

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 403
aims at an ever-deepening influence upon the church mem
bers and through them upon the world without. The preacher
represents the progressive and dynamic, as against the fixed
and static elements of the ecclesiastical life. In preaching, the
minister is engaged in an individual action; in the liturgy he
merely leads the devotions in the name of the people. In the
one case he tries to bring forth the new as well as the old
from the treasure-house of the ideal church; in the other, he
is content to commemorate what has already been attained.
In the former function, he is free to give the fullest expres
sion to his own personality, consistently with the limitations
imposed upon him by the common faith and the sanctities that
encompass his pulpit; in the latter, he feels himself bound by
the appointments that have been prescribed for him by external
authority. As a matter of fact, therefore, it is through the
free homiletic treatment of its common faith by the pastor that
the church works most directly upon its own inner life, and
receives the inspiration and leadership that it needs for ag
gressive, efficient missionary and philanthropic service in the
community. It is from this point of view that Baur defines
homiletics as that theological discipline that deals with the
essence of the sermon as a necessary expression of the church's
life. In the course of the last five or six decades, however, homi
letic theory, following as usual closely upon homiletic prac
tice, has made most advance by making relatively more of that
third factor that enters into the idea of all true preaching,
the personality of the preacher. It was largely because Palmer,
anticipating even Vinet in this, again conceived the sermon as
determined on the one hand by the peculiarity of the Chris
tian principle itself, and on the other by the individuality of
the preacher, that his manual became the most influential of
the last century. The common treatises had offered little more
than abstract rules borrowed from books of logic and rhetoric ;
and these were either so general in character that the gulf be
tween theoretical precept and practical performance was quite
impassible, or so detailed and minute that they imposed in
tolerable fetters upon the speaker. To-day the conviction is
wide-spread that the only cure for dulness and inefficiency in

404

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE

the pulpit is not more brilliance of diction or polish of style
but a larger measure of moral and spiritual reality in the
preacher. Preaching of late may indeed have become poorer
in theological learning, but as a whole it is richer in religious
and ethical earnestness. The sermon, according to the best
homiletic ideals, is more what Luther said it ought to be,
something done rather than something merely said. It is not
only an intellectual but also an emotional and a volitional
communication. The preacher not only thinks but also feels
and wills. He puts his personality into an act. He works
energetically through words to reach the conscience as well
as to inform the mind, to stir the feelings as well as to engage
the understanding; in a word, to kindle all the faculties that
may in any wise aid in the attainment of his object, the moving
of the hearer's will. He desires, in his own measure to be
come " a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all
the people ".
True, this whole modern emphasis upon the subjective
rights of the Christian worker, as of the believer, has its
dangers. There are those who go the length of declaring that
the preacher must say nothing that transcends the reach of
his own experience, lest his words become of none effect
through their sheer emptiness. They quite forget that even
the apostles were more concerned to give us the Christ of their
experience than their experience of the Christ, and that in
the nature of the case many of the teachings of the Bible
admit of no experience in this world. Nevertheless, as Dr.
Stalker has well said : " What an audience looks for, before
everything else, in the texture of the sermon is the blood-
streak of experience ; and truth is doubly and trebly true when
it comes from a man who speaks as if he had learned it by
his own work and suffering." 3 The preacher must, after his
own fashion, be a reproduction of the truth in a personal form.
The Word must become incarnate in him. If the orator is
born and not made, the prophet of God must be born and
re-born. And just in proportion as the truth becomes a living
reality to him and in him, does his message, like the historic
! Stalker, The Preacher and his Models, p. 166.

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 405
revelation of God that grew organically into the perfect gospel,
assume a marvelous multiformity in his sermons. Christ never
dwarfs, he always heightens and enriches the individuality of
him whom he indwells. The greatest preachers will be the
most original, not because they have any creative power —
that is a divine prerogative — but because being most receptive
they are most reproductive, in giving forth the truth and grace
and life which they have themselves received. They need not,
and indeed they cannot, preach themselves ; yet will their per
sonalities dominate their messages throughout. After all, the
greatest problem for homiletics is not the making of the ser
mon, but the making of the preacher.
From one quarter only has the independence, not to say the
very existence of homiletics as a science been challenged. It
has often been treated as a mere branch of rhetoric; a mis
fortune which some of our theological seminaries have done
their part to perpetuate in their chairs of so-called " sacred
rhetoric ", and from which they have suffered great harm.
The relation between these two sciences merits a much
fuller treatment than it commonly receives in our English
homiletic manuals. Indeed, the whole history of our disci
pline could conveniently and most instructively be written from
this point of view. Significant, for example, is the fact that
the father of modern scientific homiletics, the Reformed pro
fessor of Marburg, Hyperius, gave his epoch-making treatise
of the year 1553 the sub-title, De inter ¦pretatione scripturarum
sacrarum populari. True to the spirit of his Church, he
conceived the sermon as essentially an exposition of the
Bible, whereas the Lutheran practice, confirmed by the at
tempt of Melanchthon to model the sermon upon Greek classi
cal traditions, gave the first place to the idea of oratory.
Hyperius, while freely acknowledging the necessity of rhetoric
in general, and its great value for preaching, nevertheless be
gan that long process by which finally homiletics could free
itself from the bondage of the pagan ideals. It was not, how
ever, till toward the close of the seventeenth century that the
name " homiletics " was coined, having been first used by
Gobel in the title of his manual Methodologia Homiletica
(1672), and then by Baier in his Compendium Theologiae

406 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
Homileticae (1677), and Krumholz in his Compendium Homi-
leticum (1699). The new name betokened a further emanci
pation from rhetoric. Nor does it occasion surprise that to
this day, where rationalistic influences are predominant, or
where, as in the Romish Church, the pulpit is made subordi
nate, preaching is still spoken of merely as " ecclesiastical elo
quence ", " the eloquence of the clerical profession ", or " pul
pit eloquence ". Even Vinet, brilliant as his work is in its
philosophic penetration, was too strongly influenced by
Schott's devotion to the ancient rhetoric. Phelps, Broadus,
Shedd, and Hoppin begin with Vinet's dictum: "Rhetoric
is the genus, homiletics is the species." But following the im
pulse given by Schleiermacher, such writers as Palmer, Stier,
Baur, Gaupp, Harnack, Kleinert, van Oosterzee, Schweizer
and Christlieb have vindicated for homiletics an independent
place in the circle of the sciences.
The solution of this much discussed problem is possible only
upon a philosophic basis. For historically every conceivable
position has been taken, from the one extreme of a perfect
identification of the sciences to the other extreme of an abso
lute mutual exclusiveness. At the outset, it is plain that the
term rhetoric has been used in two different senses ; the one
presenting only the formal, the other dealing also with the
substantial or ethical considerations involved in discourse.
The former was exceedingly common among the ancients.
Rhetoric was often treated as the mere knowledge of means,
natural or artificial, worthy or unworthy, by which an orator,
quite regardless of his subject, could win the good will of his
hearers. This was the conception of the Sophists, which was
so severely condemned by Plato as a mere art of shamming,
and later by Kant, who described it as an art " which utilizes
the weakness of men for its own purposes " and " deceives
by means of a fair show ". But even in the earliest classical
rhetoric the more serious and elevated conception of public
speaking, as an ethical transaction, was emphasized. Stress
was laid upon the content of the discourse and upon the per
sonality of the speaker. It was maintained that true eloquence
was based upon the self -evidencing and convincing power of
the truth, when rightly unveiled, and upon the character of

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 407
the orator as a man worthy of confidence in the double sense
of his being a master of his subject and a sincere and veracious
exponent of it. Here, then, we have a conception of rhetoric
that begins to level up to the heights of homiletic theory as
we have sought to unfold it from the New Testament itself.
That the two sciences may have much in common is at once
apparent. Eloquence in the pulpit or out of it becomes pri
marily a moral virtue. And in regard to the formal structure
of discourse and many stylistic peculiarities, it is evident that
there can be only one set of principles by which to arrange the
matter of an address in an orderly, attractive and persuasive
way. From this point of view there cannot be two rhetorics :
there can be only a sacred or a secular use of the same rhetori-1
cal principles.
Nevertheless, the elements of difference between the two
sciences are more important than those which they necessarily
have in common, even after the utmost concessions have been
made in favor of the higher ethical conception of discourse
which the heathen rhetoric at its best developed. As we have
seen, the sermon deals with the gospel; it has a distinctively
religious aim, one which transcends the merely human sphere ;
and it depends for success primarily upon spiritual methods.
In these three principles is grounded the distinction between
homiletics and rhetoric, a distinction that is essential though
it is not absolute. In the nature of the case rhetoric in laying
down rules suitable for all possible discourses, the sermon in
cluded, can serve only a formal purpose. As Christlieb has
well said : " It is only if, instead of finding the subject of
Christian preaching in Christ and His salvation, we find it in
the general ideas of duty, virtue, and happiness ....
which also ultimately formed the chief subjects of the best
heathen rhetoric, that the distinction in scope and aim between
the two sciences, and therefore any difference at all between
them, vanishes." 4 If, according to the ethical idea of public
address, the very form becomes inseparable from the subject-
matter, how can maxims that may have fitted the Greek stage
or the Roman forum suit the facts in that field of discourse in
* Christlieb, Homiletics, p. 17.

408 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
which by common consent the subject-matter, the aim, and the
method of the address are unique? Only when we define
rhetoric in such general terms as to embrace all expression of
thought in language, without any distinction as to the matter
and the form, can the independence of homiletics as a science
be questioned; but such a conception of rhetoric would like
wise leave room for no other science whatsoever.
As a mere matter of fact, homiletics has only then flourished
when it has been cultivated in its own congenial soil, the field
of the theological sciences. Indeed, the influence of rhetoric,
in more than one period of the pulpit's history, has been bane
ful in the extreme. It cannot be too often repeated that the
preacher is not the successor of the Greek orator but of the
Hebrew prophet. In religious and spiritual matters, the hearer
is not convinced by human art but by the demonstration and
power of the Holy Spirit. Unction is more than diction.
Meanwhile, however, the homilete, having put first things
first, dares to appropriate for his professional labor, as for
his personal religious needs, Paul's assurance, " All things
are yours." In particular as regards rhetoric, he will act upon
Herder's precept : " First till our field as if there were no
ancients; then use the art of the ancients, not in order to
build our own anew, but to improve and perfect it." Only
let homiletics, true to its best developments in the past, grow
out of its own independent root, and all the other theological
sciences and the church they serve will have reason to rejoice
in the goodly fruitage of this tree.
Such, then, is the task of homiletics as the science of preach
ing; and such are the principles that secure for this branch
of theoretical knowledge a place of honorable independence in
the circle of the sciences.
But, as we have already said, homiletics must be something
more than a science. It belongs to the practical theological
disciplines, all of which have this as their distinctive function,
that besides giving the minister of the gospel the true concep
tion of his work they aid him by practical counsels to perform
that work in the most effective way. Homiletics, then, must
itself reduce its scientific principles to a technique. It cannot
rest content with its conclusions in the domain of pure knowl-

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 409
edge. It has a further duty than the development of the mere
idea of the sermon. It must show how this idea may best be
realized. The science must resolve itself into an art.
But at the very threshold of this task, homiletics is con
fronted by the allegation that preaching cannot be taught as
an art, and that, even were this possible, it would not be desira
ble. Thus even so great a preacher and so noble an expositor
of preaching as Phillips Brooks declares that " the definite and
immediate purpose which a sermon has set before it makes it
impossible to consider it as a work of art, and every attempt
to consider it so works injury to the purpose for which the
sermon was created ". 5 And he continues : the sermon
" knows no essential and eternal type, but its law for what it
ought to be comes from the needs and fickle changes of the
men for whom it lives. Now this is thoroughly inartistic. Art
contemplates the absolute beauty. The simple work of art is
the pure utterance of beautiful thought in beautiful form with
out further purpose than simply that it should be uttered
. . . Art knows nothing of the tumultuous eagerness of
earnest purpose." There is some truth in this characteriza
tion of art; and Brooks is justified in speaking as he does
against the vice of " sermonizing ". But he is using the word
" art " in an extremely limited sense ; and even then it may
fairly be questioned whether, for example, the world's great
poems could properly be embraced in this sweeping verdict.
Be that as it may, the fact remains that, so far as preaching is
concerned, art, considered in the first instance as the use of ap
propriate means to gain chosen ends, is absolutely indispensa
ble. Art thus understood need have nothing to do with mere
artifice or artificiality. It is the deliberate, reasoned use of
suitable means. But even in the more ideal sense of the term,
does not the very glory of the preacher's work lie in his ca
pacity to express " beautiful thought in beautiful form ", and
does not such utterance inevitably give a certain expansion and
delight, as well as moral impulse, to the mind of the hearer?
Indeed, is there any art in which the ideal and the practical are
so harmoniously blended? The best answer to Brooks is
' Brooks, Lectures on Preaching, p. 109.

410 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
Brooks himself — the grace and skill of his sermonic art. Far
truer is the remark of Vinet : " What, in truth, is art but
nature still? Art, from the first moment is present in every
creation; if, then, you would exclude art, where will you
begin the exclusion? You see at once that you can never
ascend high enough. What we call nature, or talent, is, un
consciously to itself, only a more consummate, more spon
taneous art. What we call art is but prolonged or perfected
instinct, which in all cases is only a more elementary and
more rapid process of reasoning. If instinct removes the first
difficulties that present themselves, will it also remove the
next? That is the question. And it presents itself again
under another form. Does looking hinder us from seeing?
Does not looking aid us in seeing? "6 We may add that as a
matter of history, the most gifted preachers, like the greatest
poets, have cultivated their art with laborious assiduity.
Then again, there have not been wanting those who have
condemned homiletic art on what they conceive to be the lofty
grounds of religion. They are fond of quoting such texts as
this : " But when they deliver you up, be not anxious how
or what ye shall speak; for it shall be given you in that hour
what ye shall speak." But dare any one apply this promise
of extraordinary help made to the apostles for an extraordi
nary need to the case of a pastor drawing his salary in regular
installments from a congregation he has vowed to serve with
the best use of all his talents ? Just as far-fetched is the exe
gesis that invokes Paul's statements about " wisdom of words"
and the " philosophy " of some Greeks at Colossae as an ex
cuse for the systematic neglect of the study of Hebrew or
dogmatic theology. Nor is it safe for any young minister on
purely a priori grounds to number himself among those ex
ceptional servants of God with whom art has all the spontaneity
of instinct in a genius. For nothing is more fatal to talent
than to mistake itself for genius. Meanwhile, the rank and
file of our preachers must remember that God helps them who
help themselves through the best use of the gifts he has
given them. Here, too, the saying applies in all its scope:
" Vinet, Homiletics, p. 33.

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 411
" If a man strive, yet is he not crowned except he strive law
fully." On the other hand, however, it behooves alike the student
and the teacher of any practical art to cherish a sober estimate
of what may be accomplished. No homiletic training can
ever be a substitute for native endowment. It can give no
new powers of speech. It may do much to kindle and in
tensify, but it can never impart, the divine spark of true
eloquence. It can furnish correct principles and helpful pre
cepts; but the application of these is always a personal mat
ter for the student himself. As Phelps tersely puts it: "In
brief, it can make the business practicable, but it can never
create the doing of it. A man must work the theory into his
own culture, so that he shall execute it unconsciously. This
he can do only by his own experience of the theory in his own
practice till it becomes a second nature."
With this conception of homiletics as a theological art, how
can the discipline best be taught under the concrete conditions
under which the work must be done in our theological semi
naries? This, then, is the remaining question before us.
In attempting a solution of this problem, I have tried to do
full justice to the two principles which, I take it, are funda
mental in this task: that the distinctive trait of all art is its
synthetic quality, and that efficiency in the exercise of any
practical art depends upon the thoroughness with which its
theories are converted into an adequate technique.
I have time only to indicate in a general way the method by
which I hope to give effect to these two principles in my
conduct of the work in homiletics. I must be brief, for I am
well aware that at this late hour there is nothing, among the
many things that may be said of homiletic or of any other
art, that is more to the point than Longfellow's line, " Art is
long, and time is fleeting".
On the one hand, then, the instruction must be vitally and
constantly related to all the elements which in their combination
make the sermon. Preaching as an art is the harmonious
synthesis of the three factors which the science of homiletics
has taught us enter into the very idea of preaching; the subject,
the congregation, and the speaker, or the content of the mes-

412 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
sage, its adaptation to the hearer and the personality of the
preacher. As regards the first, the subject-matter of preaching, homi
letics can render an invaluable service to the theological stu
dent by relating all his work in the seminary to the needs of
the pulpit. Some one has said that every university ought in
these days to have a professorship of things in general, be
cause owing to the extreme specialization of the sciences
many a man after four years of college work is sadly puzzled
in trying to organize his intellectual world into an orderly,
unified system. And this difficulty is likely to be increased,
rather than diminished, when the student enters upon his semi
nary course. Certain it is that he frequently has no proper
notion of the relations which his highly diversified studies bear
to one another and to the work of the ministry. He not seldom
comes to the close of the day's exercises feeling that what he
has heard in the several class-rooms may fill note-books with
a variegated lore, but not satisfy the mind of a prospective
homilete or the heart of a would-be pastor. He begins to
think that he is in real danger of being over-educated, and
that he can become more efficient as a minister of the gospel,
if he will not burden himself with any excess of scientific
knowledge. It is, indeed, a difficult problem to bridge this gulf for the
student. But I am convinced that more can be done by the
practical chairs than commonly is attempted in our American
institutions of sacred learning. The method employed in
some of the Scotch seminaries is highly to be commended.
The professors in the practical department devote a substan
tial part of their courses to this specific task of showing how
the whole body of instruction bears on the equipment of the
preacher and pastor. And I do not know of a more useful
service that I ought to try to render than to pass in review
the courses of our curriculum in order to emphasize not only
the practical character of their results but also the homiletic
benefits of the peculiar discipline imparted in each case.
But there is still another and more practical expedient. I
refer to that used in the homiletic seminars of the German
universities, a method for the introduction of which into this

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 413
Seminary the marked development and popularity of our
extra-curriculum classes paves the way. With smaller groups
of students thus banded together the problem can be quite
satisfactorily solved by having the scientific and the practical
work done under the guidance of the same professor. Of
course, his limitations are here the serious concern. He can in
no sense vie with the specialists in their particular fields. But
if he is not utterly disqualified for his position, he can, at least
in some of the departments, be both scientific and practical
in his methods, and that, after all, is here the main consider
ation. At any rate, he can encourage the students to use in
their own independent work in such classes the most thorough
scientific methods they have learned in the prosecution of the
theoretical disciplines, in order that under his guidance they
may then utilize their results in the actual production of apolo
getic, expository, doctrinal, ethical, sociological, or historical
sermons. To what extent the scientific end of such work may
be emphasized it scarcely becomes me to intimate. But I
may be pardoned for adding that I certainly should never
have accepted the invitation to this chair, had I not felt con
vinced that one of its richest opportunities lies in the possi
bility it offers in such classes for combining, at first hand,
scholarly work in favorite departments with practical exer
cises in the formal statement of results for the pulpit.
And there is still a third way by which a professor of homi
letics can show the students the practical significance of the
other work done in the curriculum. The sermons submitted in
writing or delivered by them may be made the basis for this
instruction. Now and then, for instance, a man will need to
be told with great plainness that if the pulpit is his objective
point, then for him the course in voice culture is the most im
portant of all. Another, perchance, must learn how to bring
his dogmatic and ethical wings together for a truly homiletic
flight; preaching his doctrines with ethical applications in
view and his ethics in their doctrinal origins. Still a third
may need the reminder that he is supposed to preach only
the whole counsel of God, not also all the results of the latest
scholarship on some point of merely antiquarian interest, to
say nothing of the latest guesses of some rationalistic critic

414

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE

who in any event would not leave the pastor a preachable
Bible. And here, no less than in the constructive part of the
course, there need not fail the word of guidance that shall
make the cross of Christ borrow radiance from every page of
text-book and from every course of study in the school of
sacred learning.
But homiletic art, as we have intimated, demands a still
richer synthesis. There is a second factor that enters into
the construction of every truly successful sermon,. — its adapta
tion to the hearer. Indeed, this is a consideration of scarcely
less importance than the subject-matter itself. And yet many
a preacher fails at this very point. As a student in the semi
nary he may even have distinguished himself by his scholarly
attainments ; but as a pastor trying to minister to a particular
congregation he at once shows that he is hopelessly out of
touch with the concrete environment in which he finds himself.
More pathetic still are the chapters that sometimes follow this
mournful introduction to the story of his professional life :
the older he grows the more obvious is his aloofness from the
age of which he is supposed to be a part. He simply does not
understand the great law of adaptation by which the sermonic
material is made not only intelligible but also interesting, at
tractive and impressive. With all his learning he is the vic
tim of a defective culture, in consequence of which he may have
to labor under a contracted usefulness to the end of his days.
What, then, can a professor of homiletics do to prevent or
to remedy such an evil? In general it may be said, he can
give both inspiration and practical guidance for the attain
ment of the more adequate culture that is needed. He can
project the scope of his task beyond the narrow confines of
the student's academic years and emphasize the principles by
which alone the pastor can secure and maintain a high intel
lectual efficiency in the pulpit.
For one thing, he can expedite the experience of the future
preacher by helping him in advance to understand the signs
of the times in which his ministry will lie. Here, I take it,
is the secret of that deep and wide influence which the " Lyman
Beecher Lectureship on Preaching" at Yale University has
exerted. The incumbents have been men of distinguished use-

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 415
fulness in the active pastorate, and as such they have com
monly dealt, not with the details of homiletic technique, but
with the large questions that pertain to ministerial efficiency
in the modern world. As Dr. James Stalker, one of the
most helpful of these Lecturers, said to the students, " there
is room amidst your studies, and without the slightest dis
paragement to them, for a message more directly from life,
to hint to you, that more may be needed in the career to
which you are looking forward than a college can give, and
that the powers on which success in practical life depends
may be somewhat different from those which avail most at
your present stage ".7 And throughout his lectures he, like
most of his predecessors and successors on that foundation,
lays great stress upon the point I am now emphasizing, the
necessity of a thorough understanding of the peculiar and
distinctive features of our age. And as I conceive the work
of this chair, one of its most useful services is that of aid
ing young men to a secure homiletic platform as they stand
with the ancient gospel on their lips before the marvelous
complexities and difficulties of our modern life. No young
man ought to be left altogether to the tender mercies of
his own experience in grappling, as many a one must do
with the very instinct of intellectual self-preservation, with
the problem of interpreting the conditions under which he
will have to exercise his ministry. He ought to be told in
advance something about the absorbing interest of this gen
eration in its material welfare and of the influence that this
is likely to exert upon the content and form of his message.
He must know the significance of the inductive process of in
vestigation as employed in the natural sciences, and the bear
ings of this fact upon men's conceptions of the Supernatural in
history. He must realize what changes psychology has
wrought in the valuation of many religious phenomena, as
well as in the province of pedagogical and therefore also of
homiletic methods. He must understand the shifting of the
centre of gravity in our ecclesiastical life from narrow parti
san polemics to the broader statesmanship found, for example,
7 Stalker, The Preacher and His Models p. 5.

416 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
in the aggressive leadership of our denominational Boards for
harmonious and effective cooperation in spiritual and philan
thropic labors at home and abroad. He must know the mean
ing of the profound social unrest of these days, and of the
insistent and universal demand that our ministers shall give
intelligent and courageous direction to the work of mak
ing social applications of the principles of the gospel. And
in this connection he may need the reminder that our Biblical
commentaries have too often been written by scholarly re
cluses who may have tried hard enough to see the social mes
sage of Christianity in the right perspective, but who have
failed because they have lacked the sympathy, the insight, the
wisdom begotten of a personal experience of the world's need
of such a message. In fine, the student must be encouraged
and fitted to live the homiletic life of the twentieth century,
lest the church, as well as the Christian agencies outside of
the church, pass him by to take up the legitimate order of
the day. He cannot possibly have too much scholarship, but
at every cost he must learn to focus his scholarship upon the
real issues of life and make his knowledge fruitful of good.
He must understand the age, if for no other reason than to be
able to talk to it in the intelligible forms of a living faith. He
must put upon the pure gold of his gospel a stamp and super
scription that will make his homiletic coinage current through
out the whole realm of his ministerial influence.
And here the beneficent ministry of general literature may
well be invoked to aid the future preacher in his necessary
self-cultivation. It is by no means an accident that the three
most gifted and influential teachers of homiletics whom this
country has produced, Dr. Broadus, Dr. Shedd and Dr. Phelps,
have written so extensively and so forcibly upon this subject
of the importance to the pastor of a growing knowledge of the
world's best literature. These writers have not deemed it
beneath their dignity to show how even in these days of
intellectual scraps and mental dissipation through ephemeral
reading, it is possible for one who would resolutely go upon
the nobler errands of the mind, to secure a choice culture
through converse with the sceptred immortals in the literary
history of the race. To inspire men who are rightly to re-

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 417
gard themselves as the servants of one Book to become never
theless the masters of many other books that are worthy of
a life-long study, is about as useful a service as a seminary
professor can render. Nothing is more practical or valuable
than the giving to a fellow-man of a higher ideal by which
he may come into the fuller possession of himself. And in
the department of homiletics this is the truly apostolic way of
overcoming evil with good in the case of those who are tempted
to use the meretricious hints and helps, the elaborate cabinets
of sermonic skeletons and the well indexed collections of
ready-made illustrations and quotations which avarice is so
quick to place into the hands of ignorance and indolence.
But the most subtle element of the three which in their syn
thesis make the sermon is the personality of the preacher. It
has well been said : " The effect of a sermon depends, first
of all, on what is said, and next, on how it is said ; but hardly
less, on who says it." And if we are justified in regarding
the spokesman of God as a personal witness to the truth he
proclaims, and in making goodness, therefore, a prime qualifi
cation for the ministry of the gospel, then our seminaries must
ever be schools in which men will grow in the grace as well as
in the knowledge of the Lord. For homiletics, accordingly,
the fundamental problem is the problem of the spiritual life
of the minister. He must not only know about Christ, he
must know Christ; nay, he must have Christ and Christ must
have him.
Now, of course, all teachers in a seminary have this burden
of responsibility resting upon their hearts and consciences.
They are all, first of all, ministers of grace to those whom they
instruct. They are all concerned with this task of making the
student, like that disciple whom Jesus loved, a true divine.
But here, too, the teacher of homiletics has a special duty and
a unique privilege. Not only is he led by the very nature of
his course to speak heart-searching words on such subjects as
the call to the ministry, the personal requisites for the office,
and the conditions for the realization of spiritual power in
preaching. But before him and in the presence of their
classmates the students, many of them for the first time in
their lives, give expression in public to their most sacred re-

418 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
ligious convictions, and in this atmosphere of prayer and
devout meditation a personal word from the professor will
often mean more than lengthy general counsels, however ap
propriate, given under less favorable circumstances to a whole
class or the entire student body. By as much as these mat
ters are more intimately related to the personality of the
man, by so much the more readily may the class-room in
homiletics become, next to the stated services of the sanctuary,
the assembly-place for the focusing upon the hearts and
minds of the prospective preachers the constraining and sanc
tifying power of the motives which they have themselves
avowed in seeking the gospel ministry. Nor ought these ser
vices to fail to do their part in bringing the highest principles
of duty to bear upon the daily routine of study. Moreover,
as in dealing with the question of the minister's future intel
lectual life many helpful counsels may be given, so in con
nection with this problem of his spiritual development after
his entrance upon his profession, much can and should be
done in the way of making practical suggestions as to books of
devotion, habits of reading and meditation, methods of work,
and the best ways of cultivating personal piety amid the en
grossing duties of the pastoral office.
Such, then, in broad outline, is my conception of the way
in which the synthetic nature of homiletics as a theological
art may be most advantageously realized. But this, as we
have remarked, is only one half of the task. The second of
the two questions remains. How can this art be most effec
tively taught as a technique?
Measured by the amount of time it will require, this part
of the work in homiletics is, of course, the most important.
But concerned as we now are solely with the method of in
struction, we may dispose of this problem with a few brief
remarks. In the first place, the whole mass of homiletic theory must
constantly be related to the final purpose which this discipline
has in view, the securing of an adequate technique. All the
instruction must be practical. The lectures or the text-books
used must abound in concrete examples and illustrations.
Much will have to be said that will be speedily outgrown in

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 419
the experience of the preacher, but which may serve a most
useful purpose in moulding his tastes and fashioning his ser
monic methods for the future. The directions and counsels
must always be sufficiently minute and detailed to be really
practicable, while on the other hand those rules will be most
serviceable which are presented as the results of sound basal
principles. Here, as in the teaching of every art, the best
guidance is that which helps the beginner to help himself and
thus outgrow his need of a teacher.
Again, training in sermonic technique may be conveniently
given upon the basis of an inductive study of worthy repre
sentatives of the homiletic art. In this connection I cannot
forbear alluding to the provision which the governing Boards
of the Seminary have in their wisdom made for the benefit
of our students by securing for them the opportunity of mak
ing a limited number of visits to some of our great metro
politan churches. I am not one of those who believe that the
chief desideratum for the theological student of to-day is
that he shall spend a considerable fraction of the brief aca
demic year in so-called practical work, whether it be in the
neighborhood of his seminary, or in the slums or the mission
Sunday Schools or the highly organized parish activities in
our great cities. But having during the past year received the
written and oral reports of the students who availed them
selves of this privilege of hearing some of our ablest preachers
of the gospel, I cannot but express my opinion that this policy,
under the restrictions that have been imposed by the Faculty,
is amply justified by its results. To the best of my knowledge
and judgment, it is a distinct aid to the work of the entire
practical department ; an aid, too, which the student may se
cure without entailing a disproportionate cost in time or
strength. But I would here particularly emphasize the critical study
of the published sermons of the acknowledged masters of
the homiletic art. This is a method that merits a much more
thorough application than is commonly made either by the
student or the minister himself. True, an adequate history of
preaching is still to be written; but special periods have been
fairly well treated in our own as in other tongues. At any

420 HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE
rate, the material itself in our English and American literature
is exceptionally rich. The cultivated minister will not ignore
the works of men like Hooker, South, Barrows, Taylor, Til-
lotson, Howe, Bunyan, Whitefield, Hall, Chalmers, Robertson,
Maclaren, Jonathan Edwards, Bushnell, Beecher, and Brooks.
Nor will he fail to study sympathetically and critically the
sermons of the living preachers who best understand the art
of putting the evangel into the forms that win and hold the
modern mind. By means of such a study the young homilete
comes to a more objective understanding of himself. He
discovers his native bent, the limitations of his gifts and
methods, and the conditions of his future growth. He learns
also what is of perennial worth in the substance of the mes
sage itself, so that he may the more boldly proclaim, not
what he guesses the people may want, but what he knows they
must need. Care has to be exercised in securing proper
variety in the representatives chosen for special consideration.
There will then be no danger of a servile imitation or of a
one-sided and eccentric development. The aim throughout is
something more than a mechanical transfer of ideas or pe
culiarities of form. There ought to be a real transfusion of
spirit from the master to his reader. And for this purpose the
biographies of the celebrated preachers are an invaluable aid.
They admit us into the secret of those vital processes that
find their consummate expression in the finished sermon. They
disclose the tools and methods of the master's workshop; but
more than that, they put us under the spell of his nobler
ideals. In such an atmosphere we feel the truth of Words
worth's lines :
We live by Admiration, Hope and Love,
And, even as these are well and wisely fixed,
In dignity of being we ascend.
And most of all, technical training must be perfected by
the actual practice of the art. Fabricando fabri fimus. The
important question here is that concerning the amount of
actual pulpit work that a seminary student may undertake
during his course. Obviously, no uniform answer can be
given. Few members of theological faculties would approve
the suggestion of President Faunce of Brown University,

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE 421
when he says : the department of homiletics " should keep
every student preaching or teaching on every Sunday during
his three years in the seminary, and so make sure that, whether
he have ten talents or one, that which he does possess is not
hidden in a napkin, but ready at any instant for the service of
man ". Certainly, this is an extreme which, to say the least,
can be justified only in extraordinary cases. From the stand
point of good work in homiletics alone, to say nothing of the
just claims of the other courses, it will be far better, in this
formative period of the preacher's development to put the
emphasis upon quality rather than quantity. Many a tragedy
in the early and later years of ministerial life may be traced
directly back to those misspent years of preparation when
the young preacher, quite unconsciously, his judgment warped
by the deceptive breezes of a momentary popular favor, irre
trievably sacrificed his worthiest sermonic ideals. Far more
fortunate will be the student who, discouraging all excessive
demands upon his time and strength, will never allow himself
to become accustomed to, much less satisfied with, any inferior
work, but will resolutely and persistently, by dint of the ut
most care in the planning and writing of his first sermons se
cure the best results of which he is at the time capable. This
being conceded, there ought to be abundant classroom exer
cises in homiletic technique. The custom of having students
preach to their classmates in the presence of the teachers who
are to criticize the sermons as to their matter, form and de
livery, is often made a subject of unfavorable comment, not
to say of cheap ridicule. No doubt, it would be far better if
the same audience could transfer itself to the more con
genial atmosphere of some regular church or chapel service,
the criticism being left for another occasion. But this is sel
dom possible, and meanwhile the best must be made of a diffi
cult situation. Even under these circumstances, however,
great good can be done. Where the criticism is what it should
be, incisive yet kindly, thorough but sympathetic, constructive
rather than negative, giving new and better points of view,
supplementing deficiencies, making the most of the strong
qualities of the preacher, and aiming throughout at a positive
enrichment of his homiletic personality, there, as my experi-

422

HOMILETICS AS A THEOLOGICAL DISCIPLINE

ence leads me to testify, some of the most useful and there
fore by the students most highly appreciated work of the de
partment may be accomplished. Here as perhaps nowhere
else the instruction of the seminary may be made vital, per
sonal, and in the deepest sense of the word practical.
I have done. In this general discussion of principles and
methods I have contented myself with the simple purpose of
unfolding my conception of the work to which I have been
summoned. But believing as I do, that our evangelical
churches owe their very life to the faithful preaching of the
Word of God and that the prime object of this school of sacred
learning can be no other than the training of able and efficient
ministers of the gospel who may continue to be what their pred
ecessors from apostolic days have ever been, the most useful
men of their day and generation, I must utterly have missed
my aim in this address, if I have not succeeded in making clear
my sincere conviction, that in the modern theological seminary,
the department of homiletics, as the cutting edge of the whole
curriculum and the meeting-place in which the best cultural
influences and the strongest spiritual forces of the institution
are most directly and fully converted into power for service in
the kingdom of God, is second in dignity and importance to
no other. Alas! that here, too, however, it is far easier to
form than to realize one's ideal. But taking encouragement
from the call which has been given me, and from the cordial
welcome of my colleagues in the Faculty and the student body
as a whole, as well as from the year's work I have already
been permitted to do, I shall continue to find my chief comfort
and support in him from whom cometh all our help. May his
strength perfect itself in my weakness, and his grace glorify
itself in filling up the measure of my varied need, that my
labor in this chair may be for the good of his church and to
the praise of his name.

SIN AND GRACE IN THE BIBLICAL
NARRATIVES REHEARSED IN THE KORAN
James Oscar Boyd

Introduction: Explanation of the subject; summary of the material; pecu
liarities of the Koran affecting this material :
All uttered by Allah; all addressed to an individual; all cast
in the oratorical mold.
Sin and Grace:
i) In the narrative of the fall:
Sin of Adam and Eve : its nature and consequences ; its expla
nation in the fall of Satan and his tempting of them.
Grace of God to sinful man : central grace is revelation ; its
mediation to Adam left vague ; other gracious gifts to mankind.
2) In the progress of individual wickedness and of divine direction:
Conception of progressive revelation : soundness of its frame
work; in what sense it is an evangel; its universality and per
spicuity; the relation of these qualities to a limited election.
Conception of sin in the individual : root religious rather than
ethical ; sins against God, apostle and gospel ; transgression of the
moral law.
Conclusion: Suitability of kindred themes for further comparison.
(Note. — Quotations from the Koran are rendered from the Arabic edi
tion of Fluegel, Leipsic, 1841.)

SIN AND GRACE IN THE BIBLICAL
NARRATIVES REHEARSED IN THE KORAN
Much has been written by many scholars on the subject of
Mohammed's indebtedness to the Scriptures. In particular
his use of the Biblical narratives as the basis of much of his
preachment in the Koran has awakened a variety of comment,
and from authors varying all the way from the professional
Arabist to the missionary apologist. Moreover, since 1833,
when Abraham Geiger published his study1 entitled What Did
Mohammed Adopt from Judaism? there has been a growing
literature on the genetic relation sustained by Judaism to Islam,
including on the one side an investigation of the Moslem com
mentators, and on the other side a comparison of all the cog
nate material in the Jewish midrash-literature. That this last-
named comparison, however, is not even yet felt to be fairly
completed, is indicated by the present appearance of a new
work2 on The Haggadic Elements in the Narrative Portion of
the Koran.
Similarly, it may be felt that, with all that has hitherto
been said, and well said, concerning Mohammed's use of the
Old Testament characters and events, the last word has not
yet been written on even this familiar subject. There is yet
lacking, for example, a systematic grouping of the material,
the usual arrangement of which has been the chronological
order — surely a principle as foreign as possible to Mohammed's
unchronological mind! Let what has been said, then, suffice
as an apology for the choice of the subject of this paper,
which will not pretend to say that " last word ", but will
1 Was hat Mohammed aus dem Judenthume aufgenommen? by Abraham
Geiger, Bonn, 1833.
2 Die haggadischen Elemente im erzdhlenden Teil des Koran, by Dr.
Israel Schapiro ; Heft I covers the life of Joseph.

426 SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN
seek, within well-defined limits, to contribute something to
this comparison, which is so fruitful for the correct under
standing of Mohammed and his mission.
What those limits are, is indicated in the title. By it the
inquiry is limited, first, to those parts of the Koran which are
indebted to the Bible for their subject-matter; second, within
these, to that which deals with persons, places and events, —
the narrative-material; and third, within this again, to the
treatmenf of the themes of sin and grace, which play so
large a part in the purpose of the story-teller both in the
Bible and in the Koran.
In order to have the facts before us, in their broad out
lines, it will be necessary, first, to state as briefly as possible
what Biblical narratives are reflected in the Koran.
Of the first eleven chapters of Genesis much is represented:
the stories of creation, including matter from both the first and
the second chapters ; the fall ; the brothers' quarrel ; Enoch ( ?) ;
Noah and the flood; the dispersion of the nations; and the
family of Terah.
With Abraham we reach a character whose career is ex
panded in both the Old Testament and the Koran. His separa
tion from Terah, the ratification of the covenant in chapter
xv., the birth of Ishmael and of Isaac, the episode of Lot, and
the sacrifice of Isaac, — to all these portions of Abraham's
biography reference is made by Mohammed with greater or
less fullness.
As Isaac appears only in connection with Abraham, so
Jacob, apart from a couple of bare allusions to him, appears
only as a character in the story of Joseph. But there is a
wealth of detail in the treatment of Joseph's life, most of
which is covered in the long Sura devoted thereto.
With Exodus Moses is reached, and there is no other Bibli
cal character so thoroughly appropriated by the Koran as is
Moses. The story begins with the oppression by Pharaoh
and the slaying of the male children. Moses' rescue from the
water by the wife (sic) of Pharaoh, his adoption, and the part
his own mother and sister play in the drama, are all reflected
in the Koranic story. The two attempts to help his Hebrew
brethren, the consequent flight to Midian, the meeting with

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN 427
Jethro's daughters, and his marriage with one of them and ser
vice of their father as shepherd, the account of the burning
bush with the divine call, the accrediting miracles and the
commission of Aaron as spokesman : — all this leads up, in
Mohammed's account as in Exodus, to the narrative of the
plagues. From the contest with the Egyptian magicians to
the departure from Egypt by night, most of the story of the
plagues is recorded or alluded to. The Egyptian pursuit, the
crossing of the sea dry-shod and drowning of the enemy,
the manna and quails, the arrival and covenant at Sinai, God's
rendezvous with Moses on the mount, Aaron's lieutenancy to
gether with the whole episode of the golden calf, Moses'
wrath, intercession and publication of the tables of the Law —
this fills in with tolerable completeness the outline of the his
torical portions of Exodus. The remainder of Moses' career,
as depicted in portions of Numbers and Deuteronomy, is rep
resented in the Koran by allusions to the smitten rock, the
murmuring of the Israelites, their refusal and consequent pro
hibition to enter the " holy land ", the revolt of Korah, and —
what is purely legal in the Old Testament, but is transformed
into a story by Mohammed, — the red heifer of Numbers xix.,
combined with the heifer mentioned in Deuteronomy xxi.
There is no indication that the contents of the books of
Joshua and Judges were known to Mohammed, save one ref
erence to Gideon's odd test of his followers by drinking, and
this is erroneously ascribed to Saul. But with Samuel and the
choice of Saul we again reach stories for which the Koran
finds a place. The earlier part of the struggle with the Philis
tines is probably represented by an allusion to the ark as
" coming " to Israel. David's victory over Goliath is expressly
mentioned. David's skill in music and his authorship of the
Psalms, his sin and repentance, together with the substance
of Nathan's parable and the restoration of David to divine
favor: — these constitute all of the remainder of Samuel that
finds a place in the Moslem Scriptures.
Solomon plays a larger role. In the Koran, as in other
oriental literature, his judgments, his splendor, his buildings,
his wisdom and knowledge of nature, and the visit to him
of the Queen of Sheba, have appealed to the author's imagina-

428 SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN
tion. Elijah's contest with the Baal-worshippers is the only
other incident in the books of Kings to receive Mohammed's
attention. Elisha is barely named. Ezra is mentioned, merely
to rebuke the Jews for saying of him that he is the Son of God.
Among the narratives embedded in the poetical and pro
phetical books of the Old Testament, those which have ap
pealed to Mohammed are the story of Job and the story of
Jonah. Job's afflictions, prayers, patience, deliverance, and
acceptance with God, all find a place in the few verses that
refer to him. And of Jonah we learn from the Koran that
he was a prophet, how he withdrew from God's mission, of
the casting of the lots on the ship, his being swallowed by
the fish (he is known to Mohammed as " He of the fish"),
his prayer from its belly, his deliverance, the growth of the
gourd, Jonah's preaching and its success.
Turning now to the New Testament, we find none of its
narratives reproduced, save a perverted version of the angelic
announcement to Zacharias, his dumbness for a season, and
the birth and naming of John; and, mingled with the events
in this family, the similar events in the kindred family of
Jesus : the annunciation, the miraculous conception and the
birth of our Lord. But through the crassest anachronism this
cycle of sacred story is united with the cycles of Moses-stories
and Samuel-stories, by the confusion of Mary (Maryam) with
Miriam the sister of Moses and Aaron, and the confusion of
Anna the (traditional) mother of Mary with Hannah the
mother of Samuel. So that it is hardly too much to say that
for Mohammed there are no New Testament narratives ; such
as he knows are amalgamated with those of the Old Testament.
For references to Jesus' life and death amount to little more
than allusions; as, for instance, to his miracles, his mission.
to Israel, his institution of the Supper, his promise of the
Paraclete (Ahmed, i. e. Mohammed), his attitude toward the
Law, and the Jews' hostility to him resulting in their crucify
ing — not Jesus but a man who resembled him, Jesus himself
being translated without tasting of death. Our Lord's Apos
tles are barely mentioned, under the style Hawari, — a word
borrowed from the language of the Abyssinian Church, since
the Arabic equivalent Rasul is Mohammed's favorite ap-

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN 429
pellation of himself and his predecessors as the " Sent " of
God. Such being the material available for our inquiry, we pro
ceed first to note certain characteristic formal differences,
that have had the effect of molding this material, taken as a
whole, into different forms from those it exhibits in the Bible.
The first of these formal peculiarities of the Koran is that
every word of it is supposed to be uttered by Allah himself.
This oracular style is not foreign to the Bible, but it is there
confined for the most part to limited portions of the prophetic
discourse and to the laws. By no means all of the matter in
troduced or completed with a " saith Jehovah " is so molded
by the prophets as to read like a divine utterance to them or,
through their lips, to the people. In fact there is so constant
a variation between the first and the third persons in such
passages, when referring to the revealing deity, that it amounts
to what may be termed a consistent inconsistency, and only
logical analysis can resolve the blended personality of the
revelatory subject. We should err in using of an Isaiah so
harsh an expression as has been used of Mohammed,3 that
" he falls out of his role ". Mohammed's claims are quite dif
ferent from those of the Hebrew prophets. The dictation, or
rather recitation (Koran = reading aloud) of a portion (aya)
from a heavenly book by the archangel Gabriel to the listen
ing Mohammed, is quite unlike what the prophets of Israel
have to say of their revelations, even when they insist most
strongly upon their objectivity, certainty and divinity.
If this is true of the Biblical prophecies, how much greater
still is the contrast between the utter freedom of the Biblical
narratives and the stiffness of the Koran! It is obvious that
these must undergo a great change in being recast in accord
ance with the conception that God is the speaker. The facts
and actors must be viewed as from the seventh heaven. His
tory must be conceived sub specie aeternitatis.
And it must be said to the credit of Mohammed that this
exalted level is remarkably well maintained. The hold of this
"E. g. by H. P. Smith in The Bible and Islam, p. 66, in referring spe
cially to Sura xi. 37.

430 SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN
book upon Islam through all the centuries and lands is un
doubtedly due to its power to appeal to the religious imagina
tion, to transport its readers into the same frame of mind, to
enable men of narrow views to see themselves and one another
as transient, trivial and helpless creatures of an eternal, al
mighty, self-sufficient Lord. Even the woeful lapses from
this high God-centered ideal of the Koran have not been able
to destroy its power of lofty appeal, because Mohammed
succeeded in so interweaving his own personality and inter
ests with those of deity, that even selfish ends, the temporary
makeshifts of a time-server, and the weaknesses of a sinful
man are made to appear in the rosy light of a divine interest
and commendation.
Yet Allah in the role of a story-teller has necessarily some
thing absurd about it. " We are going to relate to thee the
best of stories in our revealing to thee this recital ",4 — such
is the introduction to the long narrative of Joseph's life ; and at
its close the divine story-teller warns his human rdwi that
he is " not to demand pay for "5 reciting the story. And at
the conclusion of the story of Moses in Sura xxviii. Allah is
actually made to boast of his superior facilities in obtaining
the information implied in the teller of these tales, seeing that
he was present and active in those scenes: "Thou wast 'not
present on the Westward Side6 when we communicated the
Commandment unto Moses, nor wast thou among the wit
nesses . . . nor wast thou dwelling among the people of
Midian rehearsing our revelations unto them; yet we have
sent (thee) as (our) messenger ".7
The second pervasive difference in the form of these nar
ratives arises from their being addressed primarily to an in
dividual. Like all the rest of the Koran, they are intended
for the ears of many — for Mohammed's own tribe of Koreish
in the earlier Suras, later for various groups of men, Jews,
Christians, "Helpers", "Emigrants", all men of Arabian
speech, or even all the " sons of Adam " ; — but only through
Mohammed's mediation. Whenever there is a " ye " of direct

; xn. 3- ' Ibid., 104.
"Viz., of Sinai. ' Sura xxviii. 44 f.

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN 431
address, there is an actual or an implied " say thou " pre
ceding it, and much of the Koran would have to be printed
between quotation-marks, if the devices of modern printing
were employed. Often also Allah talks to Mohammed about
those who are to be influenced by the revelation, referring to
them in the third person.
When this peculiarity of the Mohammedan revelation in
general is considered in connection with the narratives in
particular, its effect upon them is seen to be striking. There
is such a complication in the machinery of expression as to
cumber the whole, and the machinery threatens at any moment
to break down. There are wheels within wheels. The actual
human author (Mohammed) has to represent the supposed
author (Allah) as telling the real author to tell others about
how somebody else did this or that, or — worse still — said this
or that. When these characters in the story are to answer their
interlocutor, or when former words of Allah addressed to any
of the parties in the story are to be rehearsed, the confusion
becomes unparalleled. It is no wonder then that Mohammed
occasionally " falls out of his role ", particularly when we con
sider that to his lively imagination he is but painting himself
in the character of the ancient " prophet " of his story, and
his own hearers in the character of those ancient auditors.
Even when the author cannot be charged with so serious a
fault, it is often difficult or impossible to say of this or that
sentence whether it was meant to be a part of the story, or to
interrupt it with an appropriate comment (addressed to Mo
hammed).8 A third formal peculiarity that differentiates the Koran,
even in its narrative-portions, from the Bible, is the exclusively
oral or oratorical mold of the Koran. Whatever may be
thought O'f the origin of the Old Testament stories, they are
not clothed, as we read them, in a literary style that can be
described as oratorical. How they would sound if they were
so constructed, may be seen from such passages as the first
four chapters of Deuteronomy, or the last chapter of Joshua.
Comparison of these and similar passages with the Koran
' So, e. g., Sura xl. 37.

432

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN

affords an instructive parallel; for it reveals how, to the ora
tor, his role affects not only the manner of his narration, but
his selection of material. He is always a man of his day.
To convince and move his audience is his one aim. What
therefore he draws from the past in narrative must be so
obviously instructive and decisive for the hearers, that they
cannot fail to recognize the lesson for the present conveyed by
that past. It is this, more than any other consideration, that
has determined Mohammed's attitude towards the Biblical nar
ratives, in selecting, recasting and applying them.
With these preliminary observations upon the general char
acter of the Koranic narratives we are ready to pass to the
examination of that specific phase of them which has to do
with their treatment, first, of human sin, and secondly, of
divine grace. No doubt these two subjects, sin and grace, are
important chapters in any theology of the Koran in general.
But we are to be concerned, not with sin and grace in the
Moslem theology which has been developed out of the Koran
supplemented by traditions, but with sin and grace as they
appear in the narratives drawn from the Bible.9 We accord
ingly observe, first, Mohammed's treatment of the narrative of
the fall.10
The sin of the protoplasts consisted in their eating of the
fruit of a tree in paradise that is described as a " tree of
eternity".11 To this act they are led by Satan. He uses
* To attempt an historical treatment of Mohammed's teaching, within
these limits, would no doubt be theoretically desirable; but it is rendered
impracticable by the obscurity which veils the order of its delivery, and the
consequent disagreement of scholars in constructing historical schemes of
doctrinal development.
10This is told in Suras ii., vii., xv., xvii., xx. and xxxviii., and alluded to
in Suras xviii. and xxxiv.
uxx. 118. With this phrase is combined the parallel expression, "and
a kingdom that fadeth not away". Moreover, Satan declares the reason
for the divine prohibition to be, to prevent Adam and his wife from " be
coming angels or becoming of the immortals ". Yet though the tree is else
where indicated only by the pronoun "this", its character is assimilated
to the " tree of the knowledge of good and evil " in Sura vii., where both
Satan's "whispering" to the human pair and their consequent partaking
of the fruit are connected with the discovery to them of their nakedness.

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN 433
deceit to accomplish his purpose. The deceit consists in awak
ening in them ambition to " become angels or of the immor
tals ", in suggesting a hostile purpose in God, who prevents
them by his prohibition from attaining this, in denying with
an oath that he is the enemy to them that God has represented
him to be, and of whom he has warned them, and in assert
ing his own benevolent intentions.12
The immediate consequences of this act of " forgetfulness ",
" irresoluteness " and " disobedience " 13 are the " discovery "
of what had been " hidden " from them, namely their " naked
ness ",14 so that they " set about sewing leaves of the garden
to put upon themselves " ; the divine " summons " and re
minder of his prohibition and warning; the recognition of
their having " done a wrong to themselves ", which would in
volve their " destruction " or " loss " ; and their banishment
from the garden.15
The more general and remote consequences of the trans
gression embrace the " Beni Adam " as well as the trans
gressors themselves in a state that is characterized by mutual
hostility,16 by misery,17 and by constant exposure to the moral
assaults of Satan,18 with their inevitable issue for all those who
succumb, — " the Fire " of " Gehannem " forever.19
The terms used in the compass of these narratives to de
scribe the operations of Satan upon mankind are : to cause to
slip or stumble,20 to delude21 (literally, to let down by de
lusion), to allure (apparently by making evil appear attrac
tive), to seduce or cause to err22 (the same act as Satan at-
" vii. 19, 21, xx. us, 118.
13 xx. 114, 119. " Revolt " is perhaps better than " disobedience ".
M Apparently by stripping off something that could be called libas, vii. 26.
Cf. Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews, vol. i, p. 74-
"It is difficult to harmonize Sura ii. 28 with other indications of the
original home of the race. We read there that God said to the angels,
before the creation of man, " Behold, we are about to place on the earth
a representative {chalifa)". But in the account of the fall we read repeat
edly, "Get you down" (viz. from paradise to earth), and the humorous
remark is often made that Mohammed believed in a literal fall.
16 ii. 34, vii. 23, xx. 121. "xx. lis, 122 f.
18 vii. 26, cf. IS f. "'i- 37. vii. 17, xv. 43, xvii. 64, etc.
"ii. 34. ^vii. 21. "xv. 39, xxxviii. 83.

434

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN

tributes to God as the cause of his own fall), to take complete
mastery over,23 to affright,24 to attack as with an army.25
The story of Satan's fall does not belong to the Biblical nar
rative itself, but it has been brought by Mohammed, following
his Jewish teachers, into such close connection with the story
of the fall of man, that the one cannot be studied without
reference to the other. In the Koran the beginning of evil
is coincident with the creation of man and associated there
with. A great drama is unfolded in which God, the angels
and Adam play their respective parts, with the result of intro
ducing a moral distinction among the angels. For the angels
are represented at first as acquiescing reverently in the divine
wisdom, though inscrutable to them, when God proposes to
make man, and in the divine ordinance in giving knowledge
to his creatures or withholding it from them, when God en
dows man with ability to name the animals — an ability which
the angels do not possess. But there arises subsequently the
first moral schism, when God commands them to prostrate
themselves before Adam. Iblis (' Aia/3o\o? ) refuses.28 The
evil phases of this refusal are not left to the reader's imagi
nation. " Pride " is repeatedly specified as its inward accom
paniment and cause. " Denial ", that is to say, refusal to
recognize the right of God to his creatures' faith, gratitude
and fealty, is ascribed to Iblis ; he becomes the first "kafir ".
His hostility to men is explicitly traced to his purpose thereby
to revenge himself on God for having " seduced " him. This'
malignity of purpose is matched by a confidence in the power
of evil (or, self-confidence), which enables him to predict that
most of mankind will become his followers, " unthankful "
to God,27 — an opinion, by the way, that seems to coincide with
23 xvii. 64. "xvii. 66. * Ibid.
26 In Sura xviii. 48 Iblis is called "one of the Ginn". Sale {The Koran
with Explanatory Notes) has this note on the passage (p. 243) : " Hence
some [Arabic commentators] imagine the genii are a species of angels:
others suppose the devil to have been originally a genius, which was the
occasion of his rebellion, and call him the father of the genii, whom he
begat after his fall ; it being a constant opinion among the Mohammedans,
that the angels are impeccable, and do not propagate their species"
"vii. 16.

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN

435

the preconceived opinion of man entertained by the angels be
fore his creation.28
Such being the idea entertained by Mohammed concerning
the introduction of evil, into the human race and into the
created universe, respectively, as derived from his stories of
creation and the fall, the attitude of God towards this revolt
of his creatures becomes the subject of primary interest.
What degree of grace is ascribed to Allah in determining the
penal consequences of their sin? How is that grace to be
mediated to man ? What is to determine its application ?
The great, central grace of God revealed in these narratives
consists in guidance through revelation. Consistently with
the metaphor of life as a path, the Koran extols the divine
grace in providing for those who have erred from the true
path a " direction " from heaven, that enables them to follow
the' right and safe course to a fortunate goal. Just as the
Koran itself is the one great miracle of Islam, so its concep
tion of the redemption of fallen man resolves itself ultimately
into revelation to him: a revelation that is not only a dis
criminating test, exculpating those who receive it and ir
remediably incriminating those who refuse it, but also in it
self a grace, an unmerited proof and product of the divine
rahma, or pitying love.29 The first token of God's mercy
upon Adam is that Adam " found words from his Lord " :30
evidently, words by means of which he could approach God
in penitence and petition. For the consequence of this gift
is said to be that " God turned unto him ", that is, forgave
him; " for ," adds Mohammed, " he is inclined to turn (forgiv
ing) and merciful. "31
The mediation of this divine revelation is no uncertain
matter in the case of mankind in its later generations, as will
appear subsequently. But in the case of Adam and Eve it is
a subject that is left vague, perhaps intentionally vague. The
verb " found ", by which Mohammed expresses the way Adam
*ii 28. Mii- 36, xx. 121. Mii. 35- '
31 It should be noted that the Arabic uses the same word for man's
repentance and God's forgiveness: each party "turns" or "returns" to
the other ; cf. with such passages as Joel ii. 12-14.

436 SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN
got those " words from his Lord ", is the vaguest possible word
for getting : it is getting in the sense of lighting upon some
thing that one meets in his path. It may be that Mohammed
intended thereby to avoid the confusion of these " words "
with the " direction " promised in response to that penitence
of Adam which he voiced in those very " words ". Yet the
whole subject of an Adamic revelation remains obscure in the
Koran, and the ideas of its author can only be inferred from
the kindred notions of his predecessors and successors in the
genealogy of haggadic speculation.
But besides this central act of divine grace in the " direc
tion " of erring man, the narrative of the fall exhibits other
manifestations of God's grace to his sinful creatures. Even
Satan, for the mere asking and without so much as a hint of
penitence, obtains reprieve till the day of resurrection. Adam
himself, though banished from the garden, has a settled
abiding-place and sufficient provision assigned him and his
progeny. This gift is not granted, however, without repent
ance and supplication on the part of Adam and Eve. When
they have acknowledged their offence and begged for for
giveness and mercy, they obtain these tokens of the divine
clemency. At the same time it should be observed that all
these gracious gifts, of which a habitation, food, drink, shade,
clothing and adornments are enumerated, are called by the
same word, dydt, by which Mohammed designates all God's
signs and revelations, including the Koran itself. The central
grace is thus never lost sight of in the details, which derive
their worth, it appears, from their power to reveal to man the
knowledge of God and his will.
We may best discuss the relation which the grace of God
thus manifested to Adam and his posterity taken as a whole
sustains to the salvation of the individual man, when we have
passed — -as we shall at once pass — to those later stages of
revelation in which individuals, other than the first pair, are
concerned. Of that first pair we can only say that it is evi
dently the belief of the author of the Koran that in their case
the grace of God was " not in vain ", but that they became
sharers in eternal felicity.

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN 437
The second section of our inquiry will therefore be an
attempt to trace the grace of God in his progressive revela
tions to mankind through the apostles he has raised up in
historical succession, and, together with this, the relation of
the individual man to the revelation of his day, the sin of man
Which necessitated a revelation, and the sin which was involved
in its rejection.
However ill we may think of Mohammed's notions of his
tory, chronology and geography, we cannot withhold a certain
measure of admiration for a man of his opportunities and
attainments who has succeeded in so grasping the essential
facts in the progress of divine revelation as to be able to write :
" Verily God has chosen Adam and Noah and the people of
Abraham and the people of Imran above all creatures, a
genealogical succession one from another." The context of
this verse shows that by Imran is here meant the father of the
Virgin Mary, so that, even if Mohammed is to be charged
with a confusion of Mary with Miriam the sister of Moses,
he can at the worst be understood to include Moses as well as
Jesus in the expression " the people of Imran ",32 Adam,
Noah, Abraham and Jesus, with Moses perhaps included, —
this is surely a list that shows in its author the ability to con
struct a sound framework for his philosophy of religious his
tory. In confirmation of this conclusion we observe that it is pre
cisely these figures that possess the chief interest for Mo
hammed among the personages of the past. Joseph and
Solomon, no doubt, are dignified by considerable space in the
Koran devoted to their careers : yet these are not treated in
the same way. And as a matter of fact it is precisely those
five names of the above list, that, with Mohammed's name,
make up for Moslem writers the series of the innovating or
abrogating apostles of God. Among the very numerous
" prophets " of history there have been some hundreds of
" apostles " ; and among these latter, Adam, Noah, Abraham,
Moses, Jesus and Mohammed have received revelations that
mark the beginning of a new era in the progress of religion,
:jvi. 30. Imran really represents Amram, Ex. vi. 20, &c.

438 SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN
by substituting for the revelation that sufficed for the previous
age a fuller and better knowledge of God, while each in turn,
save the last, pointed forward to that better revealer who
should follow him.
This ladder of revelation, with Mohammed as its topmost
rung, is at the same time the only history of redemption that
Mohammed knows. This explains what is otherwise incompre
hensible, — why these apostles of God can be called bearers of
good tidings and their message a gospel.33 What they say to
their contemporaries is a condemnation of idolatry and im
morality: such is God's message through them to their age.
Yet the fact of what they are — God's representatives and
spokesmen — and the fact of the message, fearful as is its con
tent, constitute them evangelists. If this seems a gloomy con
ception of divine grace, it must be remembered that at least it
is consonant with the general tenor of Islam. Prophecy with
out the Promise is no more of a travesty of the Biblical revela
tion, than is Salvation without Saviour or Holy Spirit a
travesty of the Biblical redemption.
Beside these great epoch-making apostles of history there is
assumed a crowd of lesser lights, as already remarked, each
of whom is sent to illumine his own restricted area of space
and time. In fact, it is an essential part of this Mohammedan
conception of the grace of God, that no single homogeneous
portion of the human race has lacked its own peculiar spokes
man for God. This is reiterated with emphasis in the Koran.
So for example Sura xxxv, verse 22 : " Verily we have sent
thee with the truth as an evangelist and a warner ; and there is
no people among whom there has not been a warner."34 The
principle on which mankind is distributed into these chrono
logical and geographical divisions for the purposes of revela
tion is the principle of language. Just as Mohammed insists
that the perspicuity of his Koran for all men of Arabic
speech has an accrediting power superior to any hypothetical
revelation in an unknown, ancient or heavenly tongue, so also
the Koran attributes to each divine messenger a perspicuous
33 Bashir, and bushrd.
34 Grimme {Mohammed, vol. ii. p. 76, note 1) compares also xiii. 8 and
x. 48.

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN

439

revelation, so that his contemporaries who speak his own
language may understand his message, and be " without
excuse ". Mohammed regards his own mission as the antitype
of the missions of all his predecessors, as where he makes God
say: "(Thou art) mercy35 from thy Lord, to warn a people
unto whom before thee no warner has come.; that perchance
they may be admonished, and, when misfortune befalls them
for what their hands have already wrought, they may not say,
' O our Lord, if thou hadst sent an apostle unto us, we would
have followed thy revelations and come to be of the number of
the believers' ".36
The attitude of the individual man toward this general
gracious guidance from God is also represented as decisive for
his own sharing in the blessings of divine grace. " Upon them
that follow my direction there shall come no fear, neither
shall they come to grief; but such as deny and dispute our
revelations, these shall be inmates of the Fire, — they shall
abide forever therein." 37 This would seem to suggest a
classification of grace into " common grace " and " efficacious
grace ", at least analogous to the familiar classification of
Christian theology. But the matter is not so simple as it ap
pears. Whatever may be averred of Moslem theology, it is
impossible to say of the Koran, still more of these portions that
we are considering, that Mohammed ever gives a decisive and
final answer to the question, Does the ultimate ground of sal
vation lie in God or in man? His utterances vary with his
point of view at the moment.
The Koran has its Romans ix. 18 in Sura xxix, verse 20:
" He punishes whom he will, and upon whom he will he has
mercy." It has its Jno. x. 28 in Sura xv, verse 42, where
Allah says to Iblis : " As for my servants, thou shalt have no
power over them, but only over him that follows thee, of those
who are seduced." Yet the Koran has too its repeated itera
tions of the principle that man's faith or unbelief in God's
revelation is the decisive element in salvation. When Mo
hammed asks himself, Whence comes this faith? he does not
K A rahma, that is, an evidence and gift of the divine rahma.
"xxviii. 46 f. ST »- 36 f.

440

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN

hesitate to answer, From God. But when he asks again, Why
does God give faith to this one and withhold it from that one ?
he answers, Because God sees that this one possesses and that.
one lacks a certain disposition toward God's revelation, which
he terms a " turning " or " inclining " 38 towards God, or,
more commonly, a " resignation " or " commitment " 39 to
God. Indeed the latter term, islam, has given its name
to his religion, and we feel that when we have reached it we
must have reached the foundation-fact in Mohammedan so-
teriology. Yet even the elephant must have a tortoise on which to
stand. Once more the question rises, Whence comes this
favorable disposition toward God and his word? and again
Mohammed does not hesitate to reply, From God. God gives
to whom he pleases that disposition which determines that his
guidance shall be efficacious ; and conversely, in those " whom
he has produced for Gehannem ", God atrophies the organs
for apprehending his revelation, " that they may not under
stand it ".40 There seems to be no good reason for supposing
that this chain of questions and answers need stop just here.
Rather we feel confident that if Mohammed were to be asked,
Why then does God thus blind and deafen these, while in
clining those to observe and hearken ? he would again point us
to some subtle differences in the creatures themselves, yet
would acknowledge that those differences in turn could only
be ascribed to God's sovereign act. The fact is, as above
stated, that his attitude towards grace and merit varies with
his changing point of view.41
What now, finally, is the nature of that sin in man, which
^ndba, ivth stem. " sala-ma, ivth stem. "vii. 178, xvii. 48.
a Every attempt to formulate Mohammed's notion of the relation of
individual responsibility to original sin, of a universal revelation to a
limited election, must reckon with the view adopted in Sura vii. 171 f,
— a silly rabbinical fiction designed to show how men " are without ex
cuse, because that, knowing God, they glorified him not as God, neither
gave thanks". (Rom. i. 20 f). For in that passage Mohammed makes
God say to him, " When thy Lord took from the sons of Adam out of
their backs their posterity, and made them testify concerning themselves,
(saying) 'Am I not your Lord?' they said, 'Yea, we testify:' lest ye
should say on the resurrection-day, ' We have only been indifferent about

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN

441

at once necessitates the sending of these " warners " to con
demn it, and finds its culmination in the rejection of their
ministry ?
A writer who has attempted to formulate an answer to this
question42 states it thus : " Man's injustice to man (azlama)
and idolatry (atga) are the names of those by-paths on which
ere long the whole race came to walk ; the former was the root,
the latter the fruit that it produced." For proof he offers
this passage in evidence : " Verily man practises idolatry, —
because he sees that he (by injustice) has become rich " 43
But apart from the question of whether the words and the
idea of the original are correctly rendered by this translation,
it is doubtful how stringent a proof it affords of the assertion
that injustice is the root and idolatry the fruit. For whatever
may be true of the Koran as a whole,44— not to say, of Moslem
theology, — the impression made upon the reader of those nar
ratives of the Koran with which we are concerned, is rather
that if either one or the other is fundamental, it is the sins
against religion that are fundamental and the offences against
ethical standards that are attributable thereto. Just as in Ro
mans Paul exhibits the ethical consequences of religious de
generation, instead of the perverting effect of unrighteousness
upon the saving knowledge of God, so also in these portions
of the Koran which represent Mohammed's philosophy of re
ligious history, the Arabian prophet gives prominence and ap
parently causal priority to the sins that represent perversions
of true religion rather than of sound ethics.
In the catalogue of offences against God charged against the
men of the Bible to whom the prophets of the Bible are said
to have brought divine reprehension and warning, we find the
following specifications.
this matter,' or lest ye should say, ' Our fathers before us did indeed have
other gods, and we are their offspring after them; wilt thou then destroy
us for what those triflers did ? ' "
"Grimme, op. cit., p. 71. "xcvi. 6, 7.
M In the Koran, however, " believe " is always the prius of " perform
good works " ; and in Moslem theology religion as iman, " faith '', pre
cedes religion as din, " religious observance " (including duties to both God
and man).

442 SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN
First, the great sin of sins, which the Koran calls shirk, i. e.
" association " or " partnership ",45 the attribution to other
deities of the glory and worship belonging of right to Allah
alone. It is the sin that is the antithetic of the divine jealousy.
With this sin are charged specifically the contemporaries of
Noah, the nation of Israel, and in particular the Israelites of
Elijah's day in worshipping Baal.46 Akin to this in the mind'
of Mohammed as in the Decalogue is the sin of idolatry in the'
narrower, etymological sense of that word. The worship of
images is especially attributed to the men of Abraham's time
and family; much also is made of the calf-worship at Sinai.
The word gahiliyya, " ignorance ", which has become the
technical Moslem term for the pre-Mohammedan era in
Arabia, is a quality ascribed to ancient Israel also,47 and
clearly as a means of designating their penchant for idolatry.
The figurative equivalent for the same sinful state of mind
is " blindness ".48 To Abraham's folk is even attributed the
service of Satan; the former terms were negative, this one is
positive, and finds its complement in the attitude towards
God that these servants of Satan share with Satan himself.
The same pride, the same " denial " or unbelief and ingratitude,
and the same malignity, which we found ascribed to Satan in
the story of the fall are all explicitly ascribed to these sinners
in his service, notably to the men of Noah's age, to Pharaoh
and to Israel.
This attitude of men towards God determines in the first
place their attitude towards his chalifa, his representative sent
to them. And we find Mohammed attributing to the sinners
of the Bible, from Noah's day to Christ's, not only jealousy
and disdain of their apostles, but outspoken accusations against
them, accusations of lying, sorcery and imposture, with in
solence and mockery of them. And, worst of all, like the
wicked husbandmen in our Lord's parable of the vineyard, they
are charged with actual persecution, plotting, and full intent
to murder. It is contrary to Mohammed's conviction and
policy alike, to allow that one of these representatives of God
" E. g. vi. 80 f , 88, &c.
" xxxvii. 125. " vii. 134. " vii. 62.

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN 443
was ever actually murdered; God always steps in and, being
the better " strategist ", thwarts their plots, disappoints their
rage, and vindicates and rescues his servant.49
The climax, then, of human sin against a God whose very
warnings are mercies and whose messengers are therefore
evangelists, is only reached by those to whom have already
come these messages and who have turned from them. In
difference or neglect is the least flagrant of these crimes of
lese-majeste. Refusal to receive the gospel is for Mohammed,
as for Christ himself, the supreme indictment against those
who have rejected Christ's message.50 Other and more overt
manifestations of the same inward state of heart — a hard,
perverse or impious heart — are covenant-breaking and gain
saying; and finally, — depth of human depravity! — a blatant
bravado, such as that of Pharaoh, who would himself mount
up to the God of Moses, or that of the enemies of Noah, who
said of the threatened flood, " Bring upon us that wherewith
thou art threatening us, if thou ait speaking the truth!"51
Turning now to transgressions of the moral law imposed on
his creatures by him who, according to Mohammed as ac
cording to the Scriptures, requires men both " to believe and to
perform good works ", we find the following sins charged
against those to whom the ancient apostles of God brought
their warnings.
Murder, which began with Cain, is to be imputed to such
as have the inward intent as well as those who do the actual
deed. And even when Moses kills the Egyptian to help his
Hebrew kinsman, Mohammed feels it necessary to attribute
to Moses the intention merely to strike and not to kill, but to
Satan the fatal result of the blow; even so Moses must be
represented as acknowledging immediately the wrong he has
" Mohammed's adoption of the Docetic expedient of rescuing Jesus from
an actual death upon the cross is well known; it is in connection with
his exposition of this view that he uses the remarkable language re
ferred to in the text: Sura iii. 47. "They (the Jews) played a trick (upon
Jesus), and Allah played a trick; and Allah — he is the best of tricksters."
50 Cf. Jno. xv. 22, xvi. 9, with Sura v. 115.
"xi. 34-

444

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN

thereby done to his own soul and craving the divine forgive
ness.52 Offences against chastity are particularly associated in these
narratives with the stories of Lot and of Joseph. It is sig
nificant that not only the grosser forms of this sin are con
demned, but even those violations of the divine law which are
inward and' latent, quite in the spirit of Matthew v. 28 ; for
after Joseph has been cleared of all suspicion through the con
fession of his mistress, he adds : " I do not wholly clear my
self ; verily the soul is imperious in demanding what is foul,
unless my Lord grant grace." 53
Theft is of course reprehended; but also injustice, oppres
sion, threats, persecution, and even the greed that begets these.
Just as that counterpart of the Decalogue in Sura xvii.54
includes among the prohibitions given at Sinai a further com
mand to " perform the covenant ; verily the covenant is an ob
ject of (divine) inquisition ",55 so also we find the sins of
faithlessness and ingratitude among the sins specified as having
brought down the just judgment of God upon those who of
old were guilty of them. And other phases also of man's
failure in his duty to man that might easily be passed over by
even a strict moralist are not forgotten, in the sketching of
these classical examples for the world of Islam of human
wickedness and its repudiation by God : namely, pride, inso
lence, contempt, scorn, and — -a right Puritan touch !— " light
behaviour ".56
Such an inquiry as the one we have thus pursued naturally
suggests the methodical treatment of all the other subjects
which, like sin and grace, are handled in this material common
to Bible and Koran. The mutual relations of God and the
believer and of God and the apostle, the ideal of the ancient
" Moslem ", — for in spite of Mohammed's repeated claim to
the title of the " first Moslem ", he represents Islam as older
62 xxviii. 14 f. 53xii. 53.
"Verses 23-39; in shorter form also in Sura vi. 152 f.
" Verse 36.
"'xliii. 54, of Pharaoh and his people.

SIN AND GRACE IN THE KORAN 445
than Israel, as old as the race, — worship, prayer, providence,
theophany and angelic mediation; — all these themes might
well furnish the basis for further comparison of this interest
ing material common to the sacred books of three religions.
Such comparison can only aid in our comprehension of both
the power and the limitations of the Koran and of that strange
person who produced it.

THE FINALITY OF THE CHRISTIAN
RELIGION
Caspar Wistar Hodge, Jr.

I. — Nature and Importance of the question.
II. — The nature of Christianity and what is meant by the term
" finality " as applied to Christianity.
III. — Finality of Christianity ultimately dependent upon the supernatural
character and claims of Christianity.
IV. — Statement and Criticism of the various attempts to vindicate the
finality of the Christian Religion.
a) The Hegelian, b) The Ritschlian, as represented by Kaftan,
Wobbermin, and Traub. c) The "experiential school" as repre
sented by Ihmels and Hunzinger.
V. — Statement and Criticism of the position of Troeltsch representing
the school of Comparative Religion, and denying the finality of
Christianity over against the Ritschlian theologians.
VI. — Concluding statement showing that the finality of Christianity
depends on the supernatural character of Christianity, especially
of the Christian Revelation ; that this depends on a truly super-
naturalistic view of God's relation to the world; that this is
possible upon a truly theistic world-view ; and that the denial of
the possibility of the supernaturalism of New Testament Chris
tianity must ultimately rest upon an anti-theistic philosophy.

THE FINALITY OF THE CHRISTIAN
RELIGION
The continued and sustained interest in the question of the
finality or " absoluteness " of the Christian Religion is shown
by the recent renewed discussion of the subject by Professors
Hunzinger of Erlangen, and Ihmels of Leipzig,1 carrying on
the well known controversy in the Zeitschrift fiir Theologie
und Kirche between Troeltsch on the one side and Kaftan,
Wobbermin, Reischle, and Traub on the other.2 The contin
ued interest and renewed discussion of this subject, however,
is not surprising when once we realize that it is not a new
problem, but one that is as old as Christianity, and that the
question raised is an absolutely vital one for the Christian re
ligion. The interest which Christianity has in this question is both
scientific and religious. As regards the former, the truth of
the Christian religion is involved in the question of its finality.
We shall see that this claim is essential to Christianity, and
that it is really the truth of the Christian religion which is
involved in the discussion. Modern historical investigation
is being applied to the sphere of religion and especially to the
question of the relation of Christianity to the other religions,
and the question necessarily arises whether Christianity is
historically conditioned in such a way as to be only of relative
value, or whether it is, as it claims to be, the one final religion.
1 Hunzinger, Die Absolutheit des Christentums, Probleme und Aufgaben
der gegenwdrtigen systematischen Theologie, 1909, pp. 63-88 ; Ihmels, Das
Christentum, sein Wesen und seine Absolutheit, Centralfragen der Dog-
matik in der Gegenwart, 191 1» PP- 31-54-
2 Troeltsch, Die Selbstandigkeit der Religion, Zeitschrift fiir Theologie
und Kirche, V. 1895, PP- 361 sq., VI. 1896, pp. 71 sq., 167 sq., VIII. 1898,
Geschichte und Metaphysik, pp. 1 sq.; Kaftan, Die Selbstandigkeit des
Christentums, ibid. VI. pp. 373 sq.; Erwiederung, 1. Die Methode; 2. der

45°

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY

The interest which Christianity has in this question is also
deeply religious and practical. This can be seen in a twofold
way. The type of religious consciousness and life represented
by Christianity is closely related to this question. Whoever
thinks that there is in the natural man a power to save himself
if only he have instruction or incentive, and whoever therefore
sees in Jesus only a human teacher of the love of God, will not
be able to see in him the only Saviour, and hence will not be
able to regard Christianity as in a true sense the only and
final religion. On the other hand, whoever recognizes in the
natural and sinful man no power of self -salvation, will be in
a position to see in Christ the only Saviour of man and the
object of religious faith. And not only is this a question thus
closely related to religious life, the way in which it is answered
will likewise have a far reaching effect on the nature and
value of foreign missions, as can be clearly seen from the re
cent discussions on this subject.3
Before discussing the finality of Christianity, it is necessary
to state as briefly as possible what is meant by Christianity and
what is meant by the term " finality " as applied to the Chris
tian religion.
The question, What is Christianity? is a historical one. It
is, accordingly, absolutely essential to answer this question in a
Supernaturalismus, ibid., 1898, pp. 70 sq. (a reply to Troeltsch's Article on
History and Metaphysics) ; Wobbermin, Das Verhaltnis der Theologie
zur modernen Wissenschaft und ihre Stellung im Gesamlmtrahmen der
Wissenschaften, ZTuK. pp. 375 sq. ; Traub, Die religionsgeschichtliche
Methode und die systematische Theologie, ibid., XI. 1901, pp. 301 sq. ;
Reischle, Historische und dogmatische Methode der Theologie, Theolo
gische Rundschau, IV. 261 sq., 305 sq. Troeltsch replied by developing
more fully his views in his work Die Absolutheit des Christentums und
die Religionsgeschichte 1902. For a comparison of the views of Troeltsch
and Kaftan vid. Niebergall, Ueber die Absolutheit des Christentums,
Theologische Arbeiten aus dem Rheinischen Wissenschaftlichen Prediger-
Vereim, N. F. Heft 4, 1900, pp. 46-86; to which Troeltsch replied in an
Article Ueber historische und dogmatische Methode der Theologie, ibid.,
pp. 87-108.
8 Christliche Welt, 1904, Nr. 52, 1906, Nrs. 1-3, for the discussion of Mis
sions between Troeltsch, from the standpoint which denies the finality of
Christianity, and his opponents. Cf. also von Walter, Die Absolutheit des
Christentums und die Mission, Neue Kirchliche Zeitschrift, 1906, pp. 817 sq.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 451
historical way, and to keep it entirely distinct from the question
as to the truth and finality of Christianity. Moreover the
identification of Christianity with primitive Christianity, i. e.
the Christianity of Christ and his Apostles, though it may
ultimately depend upon the apologetic and dogmatic basis of
their authority, yet quite apart from the settlement of the
authority of Christ and his Apostles as teachers, does not
depend upon any dogmatic judgment, but follows from the
historical character of the Christian religion. In emphasiz
ing this point Wendt4 is right against such a view as that
of Foster5 who asserts that the question of the nature of
Christianity is not a historical one, but that we have to " con
struct " Christianity, and that in doing this the constructive
imagination plays a part. The issue involved in this question
is not between " primitive Christianity " and some supposedly
higher form of the Christian religion, but between Christianity
and the natural religious sentiment of man. When, for ex
ample, Foster8 says that Jesus held the popular and erroneous
view of the world, of miracles, of angels ; that even his ethical
views are temporally conditioned and not universally valid;
in a word, that " what the Gospel that saves requires is that
I confess, not Jesus' confession, but my own — with Jesus
like pains, courage, sincerity, and in the use of all the means
at my disposal ",7 it is quite evident that the " Gospel " as
conceived by Foster is not Christianity, but the ethical spirit
which we all naturally approve and which was manifested by
Jesus. There is no justification whatever for the identifica
tion of Christianity with the natural moral or religious senti
ment of man.
Approaching the question historically and putting the mat
ter in a few words, Christianity involves the idea of a divine
Saviour from sin. Christianity, therefore, as Drews has said
in his Christusmythe, originated in the idea of a God who has
become man; not in the idea of a man who was deified in
the thought of his first disciples. Whether, with Drews, we
1 Wendt, System der Christlichen Lehre, 1906, pp. 23-25.
0 G. B. Foster, The Finality of the Christian Religion2 1909, pp. 279 sq.
0 Foster, op. cit., pp. 407 sq.
7 Foster, op. cit., p. 418.

452 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
hold this to be a myth or whether with Paul we believe in
this " mystery of godliness ", this is the only Christ and
the only Christianity that we can discover. It is, as such men
as Kalthoff, Drews and von Schnehen have shown over against
the modern liberal Jesus-theologians, not only the Christ of
Paul and John, not only the Christ of our Synoptic Gospels,
but the Christ and the Christianity of the sources which are'
supposed to underlie the Synoptic Gospels. The attempt to
get behind the earliest sources and to separate the so called
historical Jesus from the Christ of faith, rests upon such arbi
trary and subjective methods of criticism as to be without
historical and scientific validity or justification, and to leave
us without basis for belief in the existence of the human
Jesus of the liberal theology. Furthermore this divine Christ,
according to Christianity, is the Saviour of sinners. Jesus is,
therefore, not only according to the Apostolic teaching, but
according to his own (Mt. xi. 25-30; Lk. x. 21, 22), the only
Revealer of God and the only Mediator between God and men.
In a word, he is not simply the first and greatest example of
saving faith, but its object.
In consequence of this, " finality " belongs to the essence of
Christianity. If we start from the presupposition that man
is, in his present state and by means of his own native powers,
capable of attaining perfection and peace and fellowship with
God; that he needs no new birth and no Saviour; then all
that he needs is instruction and moral incentive. And man
can derive this from other sources as well as from Jesus.
Having thus started out from the presuppositions of the
rationalistic and naturalistic Illumination, we have precluded
the possibility of recognizing any " finality " in Christianity ;
for the very reason that our presuppositions are the opposite
of those of Christianity. If, on the other hand, we are con
vinced that man is fallen and incapable of saving himself or
of attaining communion with God, then we are able to see
Jesus as he is portrayed in the Gospel as the Saviour from sin.
And since fellowship with God is attainable only through this
salvation, the finality of Christianity follows from the idea of
the Mediatorship of Christ, and thus is seen to belong to the
essence of the Christian religion. Von Walter is right in

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 453
affirming that we can really be Christians only by asserting the
" absoluteness " of Christianity,8 by which statement he means
simply that it is not only essential to historical Christianity,
but is also an essential element in the Christian consciousness.
In view of what has been said, we can state very briefly
what is meant by ascribing " finality " or " absoluteness " to
Christianity. It is not intended in the Hegelian sense which
would regard Christianity as the culmination of the process
by which God is realizing himself in the world and history, so
that it is ' absolute ' as the final form of God's self -conscious
ness. Nor does it mean that in Christ the idea of the essen
tial unity of God and man is fully realized. Nor does it mean
that in the Christian revelation we have an exhaustive and
fully adequate knowledge of God. Neither does it signify
that the fellowship with God which the Christian has in Christ
is incapable of growth and of a higher realization in the future
life. When finality is predicated of Christianity, it is intended
that Jesus Christ is the only revealer of God because he has
such an exhaustive and adequate knowledge of God, and it is
intended that though the Christian's communion with God is
capable of a future perfection, the eternal life which is thus
to be completed is absolutely bound to Jesus Christ and his
saving Work. The three ideas which seem to be implied in
the term " finality " when applied to Christianity are, ab
stractly put, first that the Christian religion as the product of a
special supernatural revelation is independent of and unde-
rivable from other religions ; secondly, that it is unsurpassable
i. e. that no more perfect religion will be attained by any
conceivable evolution of religion; and thirdly, that it is ex
clusive. This last idea does not mean that other religions
contain no truth, but that since Christ is the only Saviour,
Christianity is the only religion in which we can truly find
communion with God. Applying these ideas to Christianity,
it is at once clear that the finality of Christianity is essentially
bound up with the distinctively supernatural character of the
Christian religion. It claims in contradistinction to other re
ligions, an exclusive supernaturalism. Its revelation claims to
8 von Walter, op. cit., p. 824.

454

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY

be supernatural in this distinctive sense. While Christianity
does not deny that God has revealed himself outside of its
sphere, it nevertheless maintains that in Christianity God has
directly communicated to man, in a supernatural manner, truth
concerning himself. This is quite different from the pantheiz-
ing idea which obliterates the distinction between the natural
and the supernatural in this high sense, and which asserts that
all revelation is supernatural from the point of view of its
source in God, and that all revelation is natural from the
standpoint of its mode of occurrence. According to this latter
view there can be nothing distinctive about the Christian reve
lation which distinguishes its revelation from that in other re
ligions. In contradistinction to this view Christianity claims
that, while all other religions are products of man's natural
religious consciousness in direct contact with God, as Troeltsch
asserts, in the Christian revelation God has directly spoken
to man, giving him the final and authoritative interpretation
of the great supernatural facts of the Christian religion.
Christianity, moreover, claims finality because in the historical
person and work of Christ, it has an exclusive and unsur
passable, because supernatural, Redeemer and redemption. It
does not assert merely that Christ is the perfect revealer of
God; it claims that he is the only Mediator between God and
man, and that fellowship with God and eternal life are forever
indissolubly connected with his person and work. Here again
the finality of Christianity rests upon its supernatural charac
ter. It is, as was said, because of the inability of man to save
himself, that this direct intervention of God for man's salva
tion is the only and final way by which he can have fellow
ship with God. This is not only the teaching of the Apostles
(Acts iv. 12 ; i Cor. iii. II ; i Tim. ii. 5) ; it is the teaching of
Jesus himself (Mt. xi. 25 sq). It is thus that finality is of
the essence of Christianity, and any abatement of the claim
of finality for Christianity is a denial of the exclusive Media-
torship of Christ.9
When we inquire into the presuppositions and grounds of
this view, and ask whether it is still to be maintained, it is
"Cf. Hunzinger, Die Absolutheit des Christentums, Probleme usw. p. 74.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 455
evident at once that a definite world-view, i. e. a definite con
ception of God and his relation to the world, underlies this
idea of the finality of Christianity. It is the high supernatural
ism which is characteristic of the Scripture doctrine of God
and which is based upon a thoroughly consistent theism. It is
the idea of God as an extramundane and infinite Person, in
finitely exalted above the works of his hands, who preserves
the universe and governs it in accordance with his will. This
infinitely transcendent God, therefore, acts not only through
and by second causes i. e. in his providential control of all
things, but also is free to act directly upon or in the universe
without and apart from the action of second causes. In other
words, this view of God asserts the possibility of two differ
ent kinds or modes of activity in God, one through and con
curring with natural causes, and one independent of these and
immediate. This world-view, accordingly, asserts the possi
bility of events in the world of psychic life and in the world
of external Nature which are due to the immediate efficiency
of God. This view is called " dualistic " by its opponents.
It is dualistic in the sense that God is not identified with the
world, that some efficiency in second causes is recognized, and
that in addition to God's providential action, his capacity for
this directly supernatural mode of activity is asserted. It is
not " dualistic ", however, in any naive or " mechanical " sense.
Such a naively dualistic view is illustrated by a passage from
Herodotus which Dr. McCosh has cited in his work The Su
pernatural in Relation to the Natural.10 According to this
view the action of God is recognized only in events which
supposedly interrupt the course of Nature. Thus the Egyp
tians told Herodotus that, since their fields were watered by
the Nile, they were less dependent upon their God than the
Greeks, whose lands were watered by showers which they
thought were sent directly by Jupiter. This view sees God
only in events which are inexplicable by natural causes. It
therefore loses God in so far as science traces one series of
events after another to their proximate natural causes. Hence
M Herodotus, ii. 13 ; cf. McCosh, The Supernatural in Relation to the
Natural, 1862, p. 8.

456 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
the progress of scientific knowledge becomes a progressive
banishment of God from the world, the goal of such a process
being atheism. In reaction from this mechanical and deistic
conception, the recognition of God's providential control in all
events has led so far in the opposite direction as to result in
the denial of any action of God apart from his providential con
trol through second causes.
This denial of direct supernaturalism is not only seen in
pantheism which denies any efficiency to second causes, it is
seen also in theistic writers who recognize both the efficiency
of second causes and God's providential control of them. Such
writers are accustomed to identify the high supernaturalism
we have described with the naive and mechanical view, and
hence to pronounce it " unscientific " and directly opposed to
the " modern consciousness ". Some of these theologians,
moreover, assert that their view of the world is supernatural-
istic, so that it becomes necessary to have a clear understand
ing of the differences in the use of the terms supernatural and
natural. Thus " naturalism " is often used to denote either
materialism which seeks to derive all mental phenomena from
matter and force, or the view which asserts that the mathe-
matico-mechanical explanation of the universe is the ultimate
one. It is this latter view which Ward opposes in his Natur
alism and Agnosticism.11 Over against such forms of natural
ism, an idealistic pantheism might be called supernaturalistic
in asserting a reality other than physical nature. Others
would call any pantheistic view " naturalistic " because it re
cognizes no God above and distinct from Nature. Hence the
recognition of the transcendence of God, of his providence, of
teleology and of ethical and religious values is sometimes
called supernaturalism and usually regarded as anti-naturalis
tic. Such a view recognizes the transcendence of God, but
only his immanent and providential mode of action. Such,
for example, is the view of Troeltsch who asserts what he
calls a direct action of God on the human heart in all re
ligions, but who clearly distinguishes his view from the direct
supernaturalism of the older evangelical theology, and who
11 James Ward, Naturalism and Agnosticism2 1903.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY

457

recognizes fully that it is just this high supernaturalism alone
which can justify the idea of the finality of Christianity.12
Such also is the view of Pfleiderer who believes in the super
natural basis of the world, i. e. God ; in a supernatural govern
ment of the world, i. e. divine providence ; in a revelation which
is supernatural simply as coming from God, but which is only
the natural development of the religious nature of man; and
yet will not admit anything miraculous or supernatural in the
sense which implies an immediate activity of God apart from
second causes.13 Foster's view is essentially the same, though
his terminology is slightly different. He would not call his
view of the world either naturalism or supernaturalism. The
former he identifies with the assertion that the mechanical
causal explanation of the world is final; the latter with im
mediate or direct supernaturalism. Both these views he ex
plicitly rejects. He says that we may not suppose that there
is a " twofold activity of God, a natural and a supernatural " ;
and that there is nothing which happens which is not in ac
cordance with natural law.14 Here, then, are views which
their authors call anti-naturalistic, but which definitely and con
sciously oppose the high supernaturalism of the Christianity of
the New Testament and the whole Scripture idea of God ; and
which recognize in this high supernaturalism a view of the
world diametrically opposite to their own.
Accordingly the view of God and the world which under
lies the claim of Christianity to be the final religion is not
merely in contradiction to " naturalism " in the philosophical
sense of the term, but also to the " anti-supernaturalism " just
described. "Troeltsch, Ueber historische u. dogmatische Methode usw. in Theo
logische Arbeiten aus dem Rheinischen wissenschaftlichen Prediger-V erein,
N. F. Heft 4, p. ioo.
18 Pfleiderer, The Philosophy and Development of Religion, Gifford Lec
tures, 1894; and for his denial ol direct supernaturalism vid. his Essay
entitled Evolution and Theology, in Evolution and Theology and Other
Essays, 1900, p. 1-26. For a criticism of Pfleiderer, cf. James Orr, Can
Prof. Pfleiderer's View Justify Itself, The Supernatural in Christianity,
1894. PP- 35-67-
" Foster, op. cit., p. 132.

458 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
This high supernaturalism was rejected through the in
fluence of the English Deism of the 18th Century and the
illumination rationalism in Germany. The reaction more
over from the naive dualism of deistic types of thought led to
an overemphasis of the immanence of God which also con
tributed to the rejection of this supernaturalism. This hav
ing taken place, it became no longer possible to distinguish the
natural and the supernatural in this way, and the supernatural
is reduced, as we have just seen, to the spiritual in contrast to
the material, or the doctrine of Providence over against deism
and pantheism, or teleology as against mechanical causation.
But the so-called principle of a wholly " immanent caus
ality " which lies at the root of the abandonment of the Scrip
tural supernaturalism, necessarily and logically gives rise to
the thoroughgoing type of Naturalism which will explain the
entire universe by causes wholly immanent or within the de
veloping series of second causes. It is this " naturalistic "
philosophy which lies at the basis of what is called " historical
relativism ". This philosophy applies the idea of evolution
through wholly immanent causes to the sphere of history as
well as to that of Nature. Everything is in a continuous state
of change or " becoming ", and between all phenomena in
Nature and history there is a genetic connection of a purely
mechanical character. Hence there can be no absolute values
of any kind in history, and no norms whether of truth, re
ligion, or ethics. Since, therefore, everything in history is
thus reducible to lower terms and likely to be surpassed in the
process of evolution, and since Christianity is a historical phe
nomenon, it too, it would seem, must be of only relative and
temporal significance and value. The finality of Christianity
would appear to be lost.
It was out of this situation that the main attempts to vindi
cate the finality of the Christian religion arose. All of these
attempts, generally speaking, have two things in common.
They all point out the limitations and errors of thorough going
naturalism, and they all abandon the high supernaturalism
which we have seen to be inseparably connected with the
Christianity of the New Testament.
The first of these attempts may be loosely designated as the

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 459
Hegelian. This view will abandon to the sphere of relativity
the entire historical element in Christianity, maintaining the
finality of the " religious consciousness " which is expressed
in these historically conditioned forms. This religious con
sciousness and its ideas are absolute and final because they rea
lize the ideal of religion as the unity of God and man. Hence
the evolution of religion reaches its climax in Christianity.
The determining idea of this view, however, is not so much
that of an evolution toward a goal, as it is the old rationalistic
one of the distinction between the " kernel " and the " husk "
in Christianity, the historical element being relegated to the
latter category. The way for this was prepared by Lessing
and Kant. The difficulty which was felt in regard to historical
facts was not the modern one of attaining certitude of belief.
The most undisputed fact, it was held, could neither support
nor form the content of religious belief. Hence all positive
religions were regarded as but the outward expression of the
pure religion of reason. Lessing expressed this in his famous
utterance that " accidental historical truths " can never be
the ground of " eternal rational truths ", the whole of his
torical Christianity being considered as " accidental ". In the
same manner Kant15 regarded moral truths as the kernel of
all historical religions. This idea was taken up by Hegel and
his followers, though they sought to do more justice to his
tory. History, however, they regard not as an " outer " or
"empirical " history, but as the history of the development
of God's life in man. In the historical facts and truths of
Christianity are found only symbols of eternal truths in a
relative form. Hence Christianity is not separated from other
religions as the product of a supernatural revelation, but its
symbols are regarded as the most adequate expression of
eternal religious truths.16
" Kant, Die Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vemunft.
10 Modern examples of this view are seen in E. Caird, The Evolution
of Religion, 1894, and O. Pfleiderer, Religionsphilosophie auf geschicht-
licher Grundlagef 1896, though Pfleiderer does not adopt the pantheistic
conception of God which is characteristic of Hegelianism. This is also
the view taken in a more recent Article on the " Absoluteness " of Chris
tianity, vid. E. Sulze, Die Absolutheit des Christentums, Protestantische

460 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
This whole conception has been subjected to a searching
criticism by Troeltsch.17 He points out that three ideas un
derlie it, each of which he thinks unwarranted. It first ab
stracts from all religions the universal element. This is not
possible because religious ideas are always inseparably con
nected with their historically conditioned form, so that the
" kernel " and " husk " or the " form " and " content " cannot
be separated. Secondly, this universal idea of religion is re
garded as a normative ideal of religion as it ought to be. This
involves a fallacy, since a universal idea abstracted from all
religions is too abstract to be the ideal of religion. Thirdly,
this ideal is supposed to be realized in Christianity. This
Troeltsch regards as impossible because no ideal is ever fully
attained in history, and because the " kernel " of religious
truth is inseparable from its historical " husk " or clothing.
Whether or not any historical religion can be final, is just the
question at issue, and one upon which we shall take issue
with Troeltsch. For the rest, he has uncovered some of the
fallacies which underlie this method of maintaining the finality
of Christianity. The fundamental mistake of this view, how
ever, is that it is not the Christian religion for which finality
is asserted. Having separated this so called Christianity from
all historical events and also from the teaching of Christ and
his Apostles, this view has not liberated true Christianity from
its " husk ", but has reduced it to the ideas of natural religion
or of the natural religious sentiment. But Christianity is not
the product of the natural human reason nor of the natural
religious sentiment. Whatever, therefore, may be said as to
the truth and finality of the Christian religion, it should be
recognized that it is not the finality of Christianity which is
here maintained.
It was out of this situation that the well known dispute
Monatshafte, VI. 1902, pp. 45-56. Sulze believes that evangelical super
naturalism is mistaken in supposing that anything " absolute " can be
found in history, and that "historical relativism" is mistaken in sup
posing that we are chained to history. Christ and historical Christianity
are simply a crutch to bring us to God, and then to be laid aside.
17 Troeltsch, Die Absolutheit des Christentums und die Religiongeschichte,
1902, pp. 9 sq., 23 sq.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 461
on this subject between Kaftan and Troeltsch grew; and the
second attempt to maintain the finality of Christianity may be
called the Ritschlian. Kaftan wishes to show that Christianity
is the final religion and at the same time to do justice to the
historical element in Christianity. He will isolate the Chris
tian religion from the application of the so called historical
method which would reduce Christianity to the level of other
religions. He maintains that there is something specifically
different in Christianity; it is a "supernatural " religion in a
unique sense.18 He opposes, therefore, the Hegelian concep
tion which recognizes finality only in the ideas which his
torical Christianity is supposed to symbolize. He opposes also
Troeltsch, the representative of the school of comparative re
ligions, with whom Kaftan carried on this debate.19 Troeltsch
starts from the entire phenomenon of human religion. In all
religion there is a revelation from God, and to all religions
alike must be applied the historical method. The history of
religions shows a teleological movement, so that while the
historical method forbids us to regard any religion as final,
Christianity appears as the highest point in the evolution of
religion. But this, according to Kaftan, is to push the his
torical method beyond its limits in two respects — both in af
firming that Christianity is the highest or best religion, and in
denying that it is anything more than this. From the historical
point of view, Kaftan says, all different forms of religion are
simply phenomena to be described and determined. The differ
ences betwteen different religions are simply facts to be re
corded. On the basis of a strictly historical investigation there
can be no absolute or final religion, but only different religions
making this claim. The question as to the validity of this
claim transcends the historical point of view altogether. It
is a dogmatic and apologetic question, depending on other
than historical considerations.20 Hence historical science can
"Kaftan, ZTuK. VII pp. 82 sq.
M For a comparison of the views of Kaftan and Troeltsch vid. the Arti
cle of Niebergall already mentioned, Ueber die Absolutheit des Christen
tums, Theologische Arbeiten aus dem Rheinischen wissenschaftlichen Pre-
diger-Verein, N. F. Heft 4, pp. 46-86.
20 Kaftan, ZTuK. XIII. 1903, PP- 257 sq.

462 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
say nothing against the standpoint and method of Christian
Dogmatics, in which the theologian takes his standpoint with
in Christianity and presupposes its final character which rests
on other than historical grounds. In so far as historical
method is supposed to contradict this, it rests upon the erron
eous supposition that the judgment affirming the finality of
Christianity is the more valid, the greater the amount of
historical phenomena upon which it can be based. The mis
take, Kaftan thinks, lies in overlooking the fact that the
question as to the truth and finality of a religion is a question
of an ideal, and one winch, therefore, cannot be settled by the
historical study of religions. We must, accordingly, take our
starting point within Christianity, and recognize in it the
final revelation of God. Kaftan does not deny that there is a
revelation from God in other religions.21 He affirms, however,
that Christ is in such a special sense the revealer of God, as
that Christianity is to be recognized as the final religion. The
claim that such a revelation is found in Christ does not re
quire to be based on a philosophy of religion, because revela
tion does not consist in the supernatural communication of
truth. Kant, he says, has shown the limits of theoretic rea
son, so that the judgment which affirms the finality of Chris
tianity rests on the fact that in Christ we experience the satis
faction of our ethical and religious needs. It is true that, in
stating the difference between himself and Troeltsch, Kaftan
asserts that it lies in the fact that he recognizes a specifically
supernatural revelation in Christianity not found in other re
ligions, while " supernaturalism " for Troeltsch denotes only
the relation of all religious life and thought to a transcendent
God. This supernaturalness, moreover, Kaftan describes by
saying that in Christianity God has entered the world in a
way which has occurred only once and which is distinct from
the ordinary course of events.22 But Kaftan explicitly re
pudiates the older or evangelical supernaturalism, and when
one asks in what this supernaturalism which is ascribed to the
Christian revelation consists, we are told that we meet God
in Christ as we do nowhere else. Christianity is not super-
21 ZTuK. XIII. 1903, pp. 257 sq. - Kaftan, ZTuK. VI. p. 392.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 463
natural because more immediately the product of the divine
causality than other religions, but because there is experi
enced in Christ a satisfaction of our ethical needs such as is
nowhere else to be found. Hence in seeking to show that
Christianity is the absolute or final religion Kaftan says that
we start with the heart and conscience, and recognizing in
Christ the complete satisfaction of our ethical and religious
needs, we see in him the only revelation of God, and hence
can assert the finality of Christianity. Having thus from the
standpoint of faith reached this decision, the science and
philosophy of religion can confirm us in it, inasmuch as the
ideals by which we reach this judgment are found to be those
towards which the religious development of man is striving.
Wobbermin's position in his article in criticism of
Troeltsch23 is similar to that of Kaftan. Like Kaftan he asserts
that Christianity claims to be the final religion, and like Kaftan
he says that there is no " exact proof " of this. He asserts,
however, that " scientific reflection " upon historical and psy
chological data of a religious character enable us to claim
finality for Christianity, and that Troeltsch is mistaken in say
ing that from the scientific point of view nothing in support of
this can be urged.24 The " absolute values " of religion,
which are matters of inner life, are found to be satisfied in
Christianity, so that it appears not merely " absolute " in a
negative sense that no higher or better religion is conceiv
able, but in the positive sense of the only and perfect religion.
Neither Kaftan nor Wobbermin have successfully defended
the finality of Christianity against Troeltsch. The question
is not whether they and Troeltsch use the word " scientific
proof " in different senses. The question is whether the finality
of Christianity in its full sense can be maintained on their
premisses. Troeltsch is right in denying this, because entirely
apart from the question whether this is a " scientific " or a
" practical " proof, the religious and ethical consciousness
may itself conceivably be subject to a development or evolution
23 Wobbermin, Das Verhaltnis der Theologie zur modernen Wissenschaft
und ihre Stellung im Gesammtrahmen der Wissenschaften, ZTuK. 1900,
X. 375 sq.
24 Wobbermin, ibid., p. 392.

464 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
which will carry it so high that Christianity will no longer
satisfy it. Christianity may appear to our thinking as the
perfect fulfilment of our religious and moral ideals, but ac
cording to the principles of a naturalistic evolutionary phil
osophy which denies the high supernaturalism of the old
evangelical theology, these ideals are in a process of develop
ment, so that the moral and religious ideals of the Christian
religion will be surpassed. Nor can the naturalistic philosophy
be refuted by pointing out the limits of the " historical
method" and its inability to pronounce upon these questions;
it must be shown to be an inadequate view of the world, and
Christian supernaturalism in the high sense of the old the
ology must be defended, if Christianity's claim is to be vali
dated. Wobbermin feels the force of this objection, but his reply
is unsatisfactory. He seeks to show that religious and ethi
cal life is distinct from other forms of human culture and life.
Hence he concludes that while higher forms of mental life in
other than the religious and moral sphere are conceivable,
any attempt to conceive a form of religious life higher than
that of Christianity ends by destroying the idea of religion and
ethics altogether. Moreover, he says, that since religion in
volves the relation of the finite to the Infinite, no conclu
sion as to the development or perfectibility of the religious
consciousness can be drawn.25 This latter consideration may
be true, but is purely negative and proves nothing in support
of the claim of the finality of Christianity. As regards the
first point, it must be said that the religious and ethical con
sciousness is not distinctive in this sense. There is no finality
about our religious or ethical ideals which does not attach to
other norms of human thought. A philosophy which makes no
room for the direct supernaturalism of New Testament Chris
tianity, will not be able to stand against one that is antisuper-
naturalistic in this sense, and which renders impossible a be
lief in the finality of the Christian religion.
Furthermore no such sharp distinction, as Kaftan appears
to make, can be held to exist between the so called theoretic
25 Wobbermin, ibid., p. 393.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 465
and practical reason. It is one reason which deals with data
of various sorts, some of which are of a practical and re
ligious character. The judgment which affirms the finality of
Christianity must therefore be rationally, theoretically if you
will, grounded. These grounds may be in part or to a large
extent religious or ethical, they must nevertheless be grounds
which are rationally valid. They may well be wider than any
which a merely comparative study of religion will yield, but
they must be reasonably and rationally, or theoretically suffic
ient grounds of belief.
There is another difficulty inherent in the Ritschlian po
sition. If, as those who deny all " natural theology " suppose,
the whole course of Providence does not reveal God, how can
Christ, regarded simply as one fact or event in God's provi
dence, reveal him, if Christ's deity in the sense of the meta
physical supernaturalism of Christian theology be abandoned ?
On the other hand, if God is revealed in history and provi
dence, as Kaftan would seem to affirm,26 then the question
arises upon what ground the Christian revelation is separated
from and held superior to the revelation of God in other re
ligions. Kaftan would reply that the Christian revelation
with its ideas of the kingdom of God and reconciliation
through Christ perfectly satisfies our religious ideals and
needs. But the selection of certain ideas from the religious
consciousness, which Christianity is supposed to satisfy, will
depend either upon a religious philosophy or upon the Chris
tian revelation itself. In the former case the question of the
absolute finality of this philosophy rather than of Christianity
is the result whereas in the latter case no proof of the
finality of Christianity is given unless these ideals are the pro
duct of a directly supernatural revelation. Only the super
naturalism of the old theology, which Kaftan abandons, can
ground adequately the finality of Christianity.
When we turn from these religious " norms"" or " values "
to the historical Christ who is supposed to satisfy them, we
meet with new difficulties. Traub,27 in an article on the
28 Kaftan, ZTuK. VI. p. 392.
"Traub, Die religionsgeschichtliche Methode und die systematische
Theologie, ZTuK. XI. 1901, pp. 301-340.

466 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
method of comparative religions in its application to theology,
took issue with Troeltsch on the question of the finality of the
Christian religion. Traub's contention is that the ground of
certitude as to the finality of Christianity is one with the
ground of certitude as to its truth, and is given with this
through the revelation of God in Christ. But since Christ
is a historical person, Traub is compelled to ask whether his
torical criticism does not render uncertain this basis of certi
tude. Traub asserts that historical criticism cannot touch this
ground of Christian certitude because the question does not
concern " the details of the external events, but the life-con
tent of the entire person ",28 Historical criticism, therefore,
can say nothing against the historicity of Jesus, because of
the originality of his personality. To deny the historicity of
such a personality, according to Traub, is pure dogmatism.
This follows, he thinks, from the nature of the historical
method which cannot speak either affirmatively or negatively
on such a point. The ground of certitude that there is in
Christ the final revelation of God is a matter of faith, and
is quite independent of historical criticism and of the his
torical method.
In reply to Traub, however, it must be said that this separ
ation of the question of the ground of belief in Christianity
as a divine revelation and the final religion, from the ques
tions of historical criticism, is impossible. This follows from
the simple fact that Christianity is a historical religion. The
question whether in Christ is found the final revelation of
God is one that is inseparably connected with questions of a
historical nature. It is quite impossible, moreover, to regard
the " external details " of Christ's life as matters for his
torical criticism to pronounce upon, and to suppose that Jesus'
inner life is quite independent of historical questions. Traub
asks us to let the inner life of Christ " work upon us ". This
may of course be done, but not if historical questions are
simply brushed to one side. All difficulties, Traub says, are
overcome by " faith ". But the question necessarily arises as
to the content of such faith. If an historical person, or his-
28 Traub, ibid., p. 323.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY , 467
torical events, or an " inner life " which is inseparably con
nected with historical matters and is itself a historical phe
nomenon, be the content or object of such faith, then the
question of its grounds of certitude cannot be independent of
considerations of a historical kind. Notwithstanding Traub's
assertion to the contrary, historical criticism can conceivably
reach negative results on points which are absolutely essential
to Christianity, even to the extent of denying the historicity of
Jesus himself. Christian faith, therefore, cannot simply
" demand " that historical criticism shall not discuss the real
ities of such faith. Traub admits29 that it would make an end
to the Christian faith if Christ should be shown not to be a
historical figure; but this is just the logical result of a histori
cal criticism determined by anti-supernaturalistic principles,
as Kalthoff and Drews have pointed out against Bousset and
J. Weiss. Traub's criticism of Troeltsch, therefore, would
have been more to the point, had he driven to its logical con
clusion the naturalism which determines Troeltsch's so-called
historical method, rather than have resorted to a vain at
tempt to prove the independence of the Christian faith in this
respect. To make this perfectly clear it is only necessary to notice
two facts which are evident from the earliest historical sources
of the life of Jesus. One is that in Christ's inner life we find
a distinctly supernatural element, and the other is that his
entire Messianic consciousness is inseparably and essentially
related to the miracles which he performed and to the great
miraculous events of his life. Accordingly we cannot escape
from a supernatural Christ by turning to his inner life. In
order to separate Christ's life from all that is supernatural, it
is necessary to proceed by a process of elimination which must
deny the historicity of certain elements in the Gospel portrait
of Jesus, elements which on purely objective historical grounds
are on the same footing with those parts of the Gospels from
which a merely natural Christ is to be reconstructed. This
means that the Christ which remains after such a criticism
has done its work is a Christ of whose historicity there is no
28 Traub, ibid., p. 324.

468 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
evidence. This means that Traub and the other Ritschlian
theologians, no less than Troeltsch, must face the question of
the direct supernaturalism of the evangelical theology. If
such a supernatural revelation and such a supernatural Christ
be impossible, the finality of the Christian religion cannot be
maintained, since even the historicity of the Christ on which
the claim is based, is rendered uncertain. The conclusion of
all this is simply that Christianity in its essence is a super
natural religion in the high sense of the old theology, and
therefore that the question of its truth and finality depends
upon the reality of such a supernatural action of God in the
world. If one abandons this high supernaturalism, one cannot
maintain the truth or finality of Christianity, just because his
torically it is through and through a supernatural religion in
this high sense. Even the religious value of a so called
" natural Christianity " is being rightly questioned. Upon
such grounds the affirmation that it is unsurpassable is entirely
without warrant.
This is fully recognized and emphasized by Troeltsch who,
in abandoning this high supernaturalism, frankly gives up the
finality of Christianity, so that the issue really lies between a
naturalism which denies the supernatural in the sense of the
direct action of God in the world apart from second causes,
and the supernaturalism of the Christianity of the New Testa
ment which affirms the supernatural nature and origin of
Christianity in this sense.
Before, however, considering the view which Troeltsch
maintains over against that of Kaftan, something must be said
concerning the recent attempt to maintain the finality of Christ
ianity on the basis of Christian experience. This attempt has
recently been made by Professors Hunzinger and Ihmels.30
In some respects their way of approaching the question is
like that of the Ritschlian theologians whose views have
30 Hunzinger, Die Absolutheit des Christentums, Probleme und Aufgaben
der gegenwdrtigen systematischen Theologie, 1909, pp. 63-88; also Die
religionsgeschichtliche Methode, Biblische Zeit- und Streitfragen, 1908,
Serie IV. Heft 11; Ihmels, Centralfragen der Dogmatik in der Gegenwart,
1911, pp. 44-54, on Die Absolutheit des Christentums im Licht moderner
Fragestellung; and pp. 54-80 on Das Wesen der Offenbarung.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 469
just been discussed. The Essays of Hunzinger and Ihmels
are written in direct opposition to Troeltsch. And, like
the Ritschlians, Hunzinger and Ihmels wish to rest the
finality of Christianity in the fullest sense upon the Christian's
experience of Christ, denying the right of the historical com
parison of religions to speak either positively or negatively
upon the question. The difference between these theologians
and those of the Ritschlian school in regard to this subject
consists chiefly in two points, — first, in the fuller recognition
of the directly supernatural influence of the Spirit of God on
the heart in the production of Christian experience, and
secondly in the circumstance that in resting the claim of the
truth and finality of Christianity on the inner experience of
the soul, these theologians do not suppose that the " essence
of Christianity " is independent of the supernatural events of
the historic Christianity of the New Testament.
Hunzinger is more typical of the " experiential theology "
in regard to this question than is Ihmels. For while the latter
asserts a twofold basis of the finality of Christianity — the im
mediate experience of communion with God through Christ,
and the objective revelation in Christ — the former bases the
claim of Christianity to be the final religion upon experience
alone. In addition to this, Hunzinger draws a sharp distinc
tion between the revelation which gives us Christianity, which
he calls a purely " formal " matter, and the " content " of
Christianity, insisting that the nature as well as the ground of
the finality of Christianity lies in the final character of its
truths as experienced by us, rather than in the fact that Christ
ianity rests upon a supernatural revelation, though this latter
truth is apparently accepted. The finality of Christianity,
then, attaches to its centre, — Jesus Christ. And not simply to
Christ as the perfect revelation of God, but in the sense that
in Christ's Person and Work is found the only means of com
munion with God.31 The basis of such a claim, therefore, can
not be determined by asking in what sense Christianity rests
on a special revelation, but rather depends upon the fact that
a critical analysis of Christian experience shows that " abso-
31 Hunzinger, Probleme u. Aufgaben usw. pp. 68, 69.

470 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
luteness " or finality is a " constitutive factor " of it. Hence
the method of proof is simply to show that the finality of
Christianity is necessarily involved in the experience of fellow
ship with God through Christ.32
This separation of the question of the nature and grounds
of the finality of the Christian religion, from the question of
Christian supernaturalism and especially of supernatural reve
lation, cannot be carried out. It is not necessary to dwell on
the reason which Hunzinger gives for taking his position. The
alleged fact that all other religions claim finality only in respect
to resting on a divine revelation, besides being questionable,
affords no valid reason for seeking the finality of Christianity
only where it might not be a claim of other religions. Hun-
zinger's position, however, is impossible because of the nature
of Christian experience. No doubt the experience of recon
ciliation and communion with God which is given in Christian
experience, is in its nature final and absolute in the fullest
sense. But still it is not possible to avoid the question of the
supernatural character of the Christian revelation, just because
of the nature and presuppositions of Christian experience.
Its nature is determined by the opposition of sin and grace, the
natural consciousness and the regenerate consciousness. That
sin has obscured our natural knowledge of God and destroyed
communion with God, is a fact of experience no less than a
truth of Scripture. It is for this reason that the change from
the natural religious consciousness to the regenerate or Christ
ian religious consciousness, cannot be explained as a natural
evolution, as Hunzinger would fully admit. It is, however,
on the full recognition of this fact, that the argument from
Christian experience must proceed. But this shows that the
validity of the argument depends upon presuppositions. The
efficient cause of Christian experience, on this view, is the
Holy Spirit. But from the human side Christian experience
springs from faith, the doctrinal content of which faith is
determined by the special Christian revelation. For just as
the general religious consciousness of man is determined by
a conception of God, so the Christian consciousness and exper-
32 Hunzinger, ibid., p. 79.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 471
ience is determined by the conception of God given in the
Christian revelation. From this it follows that the question of
the nature of this Christian revelation is fundamental for the
determination of the question of the truth and finality of the
Christian religion. This is a presupposition of the argument
from Christian experience, which is a strong argument in con
nection with the " external " arguments for Christianity, but
which cannot be independent of them. Troeltsch is right in
asserting that the claim of the finality of Christianity rests
ultimately upon this basis of supernatural revelation, and
Hunzinger cannot escape this by resorting to the argument
from Christian experience, for the reasons just given. Nor
is it easy to see why he does so, since he apparently admits the
claims of the old theology as to the supernatural character of
the Christian religion. It only weakens his position, then,
to turn from this and to seek in Christian experience alone the
ground of Christianity's claim to be the final religion. More
over, his idea that the question as to the finality of Christianity
has to do with the " content "of Christian truth rather than
with the " formal " question of revelation, erects too sharp
and artificial a distinction between the truths of Christianity
and the revelation of which they are the product. The claim
that these religious truths are absolute and final, rests upon the
supernatural character of the revelation which gives them to
man. They determine Christian experience and are impli
cated in it, and therefore this experience witnesses to the final
ity of this revelation, but this is ultimately dependent on the
supernatural and hence final character of the revelation which
gives us Christianity rather than on the experience which
Christianity produces.
In this respect the position of Ihmels is more adequate.
After affirming against Troeltsch, that the finality of Christ
ianity is a matter of faith and that it depends on the experience
of the satisfaction of our religious needs by Christ, Ihmels
goes on to show33 that this subjective ground of belief in the
finality of Christianity, must be supplemented by an objective
ground, which he finds in the final character of the Christian
33 Ihmels, op. cit., p. 54-

472

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY

revelation. The weakness of Ihmel's position, however, lies
in the inadequacy of his discussion of the whole subject of
revelation.34 He gives no clear distinguishing mark between
the special revelation which he claims for Christianity and
the general revelation which he recognizes in other religions.
His conception of the " special " and final character of the
Christian revelation is not clearly thought out nor adequately
grounded over against the school of comparative religions.
In the section on the idea of revelation,35 after rejecting ex
plicitly the idea of the " old Dogmatics " which conceived of
Revelation as " the communication of supernatural truth ",
(the supernatural communication of truth would express the
idea more accurately), and after asserting that the Christian
revelation consists chiefly in the " facts " of the Gospel, Ihmels
goes on to point out the necessity of what he calls a " word-
revelation " in order that the " fact-revelation " may be under
stood. And in speaking of the way in which this comes to
man, he speaks of it, in some undefined way, as from God's
Spirit and as " created by God in the sphere of history ", thus
apparently recognizing its supernatural character. In all this
it is difficult to see the point which discriminates Ihmels' view
from the older evangelical view which be rejects, and which
would have afforded a basis for his claim of the finality of
Christianity. But in the immediately following section of this
chapter, in which he discusses the claim of Christianity to be
the religion of a special revelation,36 Ihmels apparently changes
his view. He raises the question whether the fact of the his
torically conditioned character of Christianity is compatible
with its claim to a specifically supernatural origin. He asserts
that it is, but bases this upon what he calls a " universal super
naturalism " which maintains that in all historical events, not
withstanding their historical relations and conditions, God is
directly operative. But if all history and all revelation is thus
immediately or directly from God, the question arises whether,
in view of this, and especially in view of the analogies between
Christian ideas and those of other religions, the specific and
81 Ihmels, ibid., pp. 55-80. * Ihmels, ibid., pp. 55-72.
38 Ihmels, ibid., pp. 72-80.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 473
final character of the Christian revelation can be maintained.
This so called " universal supernaturalism " or the idea that
God is providentially back of all history is just what Troeltsch
would assert. Indeed Ihmels is compelled to fall back on
Christian experience after all, for he says that the specifically
supernatural character of Christianity rests on the supernatural
character of Christ, and belief in this is based ultimately on
Christian experience.
In this Ihmels appears to be moving in a circle in affirming
that the experience of the finality of Christianity depends on
the supernatural character of the Christian revelation, and in
conceiving that this depends on the Christian's experience of
the power of Christ. Moreover in affirming that all revelation
is supernatural and that all revelation, including the Christian,
is " psychologically mediated ", he removes all basis for main
taining the specifically supernatural character of Christianity,
and all essential distinction between his view and that of
Troeltsch who asserts a direct mystical revelation of God in
all religions. This leaves Ihmels no basis upon which to defend
his view of the final character of Christianity against Troeltsch
who maintains that Christianity is simply the highest point
yet attained in the evolution of religion, and only relatively
higher than other religions. In attempting to find any point
of discrimination, therefore, between Christianity and other
religions, Ihmels falls back on Christian experience, so that we
never escape from the circular reasoning to which attention
was called. If all revelation in all religions is " supernatural "
as resulting from a general mystical contact of God with the
soul, and if the Christian revelation is " psychologically medi
ated " i. e. natural as regards its mode of occurrence, there is
no basis for belief in the specifically supernatural character of
Christianity, and no essential difference between Ihmels and
his opponent Troeltsch, for this is just what Troeltsch would
assert. The conclusion which Troeltsch draws in regard to
the relation of Christianity to other religions must logically
result. Accordingly the question of the finality of the Christian re
ligion depends upon that of the validity of the claim of Christ
ianity to rest upon a specifically supernatural revelation, and

474 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
that not merely in regard to the great supernatural facts of
Christianity, but also in regard to the doctrinal interpretation
of these facts in the Scripture. This revelation claims to differ
from the general revelation of God in human religious thought
in this respect, that while other revelation is natural in its
mode of occurrence, this special revelation is given in a super
natural manner, coming directly from God.
This, as has been said, is fully recognized by Troeltsch, the
spokesman on this question for the school of comparative re
ligion. He denies the finality of Christianity in the fullest
sense, just because he denies the supernaturalism upon
which it rests. This, indeed, is the main point of his criticism
of the Ritschlian school, that they make claims as regards the
finality of Christianity, after they have abandoned the only
possible basis of these claims. Troeltsch affirms that the " old
supernaturalism " affords the only basis for the claim that
Christianity is the final religion. The old theology can, he
says, logically escape the results of the application of the
" historical method " because its view of the nature of the
Christian history is thoroughly supernaturalistic. The finality
of Christianity cannot be based upon a " value judging " in
terpretation of certain historical facts, but requires historical
facts which, by reason of the " concentration " in them of
" absolute " values, are separate and distinct from all other
history. It requires, moreover, a separation of Christianity
from any causal connection with the general evolution of
religion. Troeltsch says that " in all these respects the tradi
tional dogmatic method has an absolutely consequent and cor
rect sense. Everything, therefore, depends upon the proof of
the supernaturalism which shall ground this claim, and abolish
the relativity of the historical method ",37 He also asserts that
" it is only by this proof that the dogmatic method wins a
secure basis and the character of a methodical principle ".38
In this respect it resembles the historical method, for just as
" the historical method starts with a metaphysical assumption
of an immanent causal interconnection of all human pheno-
M Troeltsch, Ueber historische und dogmatische Methode der Theologie,
Theologische Arbeiten aus dem Rheinischen wissenschaftlichen Prediger-
Verein, N. F. Heft 4, 1900, p. 98. 3S Troeltsch, ibid., p. 99.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 475
mena ", so the dogmatic method starts with a metaphysical
principle which lies at its basis. This is the high supernatural
ism of the old evangelical theology, without which the claim
of the finality of Christianity, is, according to Troeltsch, no
better than " a knife without handle and without blade ".
This supernaturalism, moreover, as Troeltsch correctly per
ceives, must find its ground in a conception of God, of man,
and of the world. Upon this view, Troeltsch says, God is not
confined to the merely immanent mode of action through
second causes, but in addition to this is conceived " as capable
also of an extraordinary mode of action which interrupts and
breaks through this plexus of second causes " ; and man is con
ceived of as fallen and sinful, and in need of such a super
natural salvation.39 This is what Troeltsch calls the " dualis
tic " idea of God and the world : and he is right in regarding
it as the indispensable foundation of the finality of Christian
ity. He finds it strange that the Ritschlians should maintain
the finality of the Christian religion, having abandoned this
view of the world.
Since therefore, according to Troeltsch, this supernatural-
istic view of the world must be abandoned, the demand of the
" scientific situation " at the present time is that the " historical
method " be stringently applied to theology. And since the
standards or " values " by means of which the Ritschlians
separate Christianity as the final religion from all other re
ligions are subjective, we must start, not from a position
within Christianity, but from the entire phenomenon of human
religion. All religion rests on divine revelation, and in all is
found a similar religious consciousness.40 The separation of
Christianity from the evolution of religion is a remnant of the
old dualistic view of the world. Troeltsch, however, is fully
aware that the so called historical method rests on philo
sophical presuppositions. His idea is that the Illumination of
the 1 8th Century rendered necessary a new idea of scientific
method and a new view of God and the world. Its essential
nature is expressed by the words " immanence " and " anti-
3' Troeltsch, ibid., p. 100.
"Troeltsch, Die wissenschaftliche Lage und ihre Anforderungen an die
Theologie, 1900, p. 37.

476 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
supernaturalism ", or a world-view which explains everything
by a causuality which acts only through and within the evolving
world. This view is to take the place of the idea of a trans
cendent and supernatural causality, which acts upon and in
dependently of the evolving series of phenomena. This ren
ders impossible belief in the supernatural origin of Christian
ity, which must be regarded as a natural phenomenon and as
absolutely conditioned by the complex of causes in the midst of
which it arose.
This " modern view " of the world, as Hunzinger says,41 has
as its watchwords, immanence, evolution, and relativity. The
principle of " immanence " calls for the explanation of every
event and every thought in the world's history by causes solely
within the world. Everything supernatural is excluded. The
means by which such a naturalistic explanation of Christianity
is made, is the idea of an evolution which would show that
Christianity is the product of the general evolutionary process
which operates by purely immanent causes, so that the limits
which separate Christianity from other religions are done away
with. The resulting principle of " relativity " will recognize
no absolute or fixed religious values in this religious evolution,
so that Christianity cannot be regarded as the final religion in'
the sense of being unsurpassable. This philosophy really deter
mines the so called historical method which accordingly makes
use of three principles, — 42" criticism ", " analogy ", and " cor
relation " or the mutual interdependence of all phenomena.
" Criticism " renders uncertain all historical events. It oper
ates by " analogy " which lays it down as a rule of historical
criticism that all past history is to be judged as to its possibility
by its analogy with our present experience. The principle of
"correlation ", being likewise predetermined by the natural
istic philosophy, asserts that all historical events form one un
broken stream to the exclusion of everything supernatural in
the sense of being immediately produced by God.
The " scientific situation " calls for the stringent application
of this method to the study of Christianity, and makes three
a Hunzinger, Die religionsgeschichtliche Methode usw. p. 7.
12 Troeltsch, Ueber historische u. dogmatische Methode usw. cf. Theol.
Arbeiten usw. N. F. Heft 4, pp. 89 sq.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 477
demands — :43 First, that Christianity be studied in its rela
tion to other religions. Secondly, that this historical study of
religion must proceed to a philosophy of religion which shall in
terpret the meaning of this religious evolution. This religious
development is not a chaotic affair, 44 but exhibits a scale of
values which are not merely subjective nor yet mere abstrac
tions from the different religions, but which are the guiding
ideals towards which the development of religions is tending.
Christianity will thus appear as the highest of all religions
because most fully realizing these ideals. Thirdly, the Chris
tian faith must be stated in the light of modern science, so
that the old doctrines will disappear, and Christianity will
assume a form determined by the scientific culture of the
present age.45 Applied concretely to Christianity these so
called historical principles do away with the supernatural
Christianity of the New Testament. They forbid belief in a
supernatural revelation, a supernatural Redeemer, and a super
natural salvation. They demand a purely " natural " explana
tion of Christianity, which must reduce its truths to the basis of
natural religion.
The result of the application of these principles to the
question of the finality or " absoluteness " of Christianity is
obvious. In earlier writings Troeltsch asserted that Chris
tianity is the " absolute " religion since it is the highest and
best of all religions. Later, however, he published an elaborate
discussion of the whole idea of " absoluteness " or finality, in
which he abandons the claim that Christianity is the " ab
solute " religion, except in what he calls a " naive " sense,46
which is only expressive of the feeling of satisfaction in Christ
which the Christian possesses. This becomes " artificial " and
invalid when the attempt is made to rationalize it, either after
the manner of the " old theology ", of Hegelianism, or of
Ritschlianism. The result, of course, is that every element in Christianity is
of relative significance only. This is not intended in the " un-
13 Troeltsch, Die wissenschaftliche Lage usw. pp. 47 sq.
"Troeltsch, ibid., p. 102. "Troeltsch, ibid., pp. 47-56.
"Troeltsch, Die Absolutheit des Christentums und die Religionsge-
schichte, 1902, pp. 100 sq.

478 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
limited " sense that all religious values and ideas are illusions,
nor that Christianity is genetically derivable from the other
religions, which Troeltsch roundly denies.47 He means simply
that everything in history, including Christ and Christianity,
can only be understood in connection with its historical en
vironment; that Christianity and every other religion, is the
product of the mystical contact between God and the human
soul, the specific differences between them being determined by
the religious receptivity of the bearers of the divine revelation.
The philosophy of religion, however, can show, that, while the
primitive Christian doctrines were stated in the forms of
thought of the past, Christianity is nevertheless the highest
level of man's religious development because most nearly ap
proaching the realization of the religious ideals which are
guiding the historical evolution, but which can never be fully
realized by it.48 Troeltsch means what Bousset does when he
affirms that history shows the " absolute superiority " of
Christianity over other religions.49
The inconsistency and defects of this view are apparent.
In the first place, the question of the validity of the religious
view of the world and the question whether Christianity is
the highest and best religion, are questions which transcend
the limits of purely historical investigation and of the historical
method. The demand for the application of a comparative
and historical method to the study of religion and Christianity
may intend either the study of religion as a psychological
phenomenon, or the question of the objective validity of
religious knowledge. From the former point of view the
question as to whether or not the religious consciousness is
illusory cannot be raised. On the other hand, if this latter
question is raised, then the so called historical method proceeds
upon certain metaphysical assumptions which transcend the
sphere of " historical science " altogether. The application of
the principle of " immanent causality ", therefore, may only
denote the limitation of the investigation to the -study of re
ligious phenomena from this standpoint of their human con-
" Troeltsch, ibid., p. 50 sq. 4S Troeltsch, ibid.,, p. 62.
19 Bousset, Wesen der Religion, p. 237.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 479
ditions, in which case the question of the objective validity of
the religious consciousness cannot be raised — much less the
question of the supernatural claims and nature of Christianity ;
or, on the other hand, if this principle of " immanent causal
ity " is to deny the possibility of the supernatural modes of
God's activity, then it must proceed upon a metaphysical basis
which will cut so deeply as to do away with Religion in so far
as it involves a relation of man to God. In other words, the
consequent carrying out of this anti-supernaturalism is to be
found, as Hunzinger says,50 in Monism whether materialistic
or idealistic, and in positivism. The latter philosophy asserts
that the purely phenomenalistic point of view, which science
may take, is the only possible and ultimate one. Since it recog
nizes only phenomena and their relations, no affirmations about
religion, considered as a relation of man to God, are possible.
Monism in both its forms is also destructive of religion.
Materialism resolves religious life into a " mechanism of the
atoms ", and idealistic monism makes no adequate distinction
between man and God. Its God is simply a name for the sum
total of spiritual life in the world. However vigorously, there
fore, this philosophy may protest against what it calls the
" naturalism " of materialistic monism, it itself not merely sets
aside the supernaturalism of the New Testament Christianity,
but is destructive of religion itself considered as a relation of
man to God. To follow a method which will really know of
nothing but immanent causes, must result in the destruction of
the basis of religion, or in a merely phenomenalistic study of
religious phenomena, which makes no assertions in regard to
the ultimate religious problems. In attempting to answer these
questions Troeltsch transcends the limits of his method
altogether. In the second place, it is, therefore, only a necessary result
of this that Troeltsch is quite inconsistent in the application of
his so called historical method. He uses this method only so
far as to enable him to do away with the claim of Christianity
to rest upon a supernatural revelation and to come more
directly from God than do other religions, and to be the final
"Hunzinger, Die religionsgeschichtliche Methode usw. p. 9.

480 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
religion. He abandons the application of his method in order
to iaffirm the independence of religion and its underivability
from other forms of life, the objective validity of our religious
knowledge as resting on divine revelation, and the superiority
of Christianity to all other religions. This inconsistency can
be illustrated by the way in which Troeltsch arbitrarily limits
the application of each of his principles of method. Thus, the
principle of " correlation " demands the derivation of all
religious phenomena from causes wholly within the Universe.
This would do away with the underivability or " indepen
dence " of religion in human life. It would demand its ex
planation from lower and simpler elements in human nature.
But Troeltsch asserts over and over again in his Article on
" The Independence of Religion " and in his more recent work
on " Psychology and Epistemology ",51 that religion cannot be
reduced to lower terms and that it is the result of a revealing
act of God which " breaks through " the natural phenomena of
our psychic life. The " principle of method ", therefore, which
is applied in order to reduce Christianity to the level of other
religions, is not applied to the explanation of religion in
general. In the same way the principle of a wholly immanent
causality is not consistently applied in reference to the evolu
tion of religion. Perceiving the impossibility of a genetic
derivation of all religions, one from the other, Troeltsch af
firms that each religion springs independently from the direct
contact of God with the soul of man. This is not equivalent
to the universalizing of the principle of Christian supernatural
ism, but it is a conception which evidently far transcends the
limits of Troeltsch's method.
The same inconsistent limiting of his method is seen in his
assertion that Christianity is the highest religion. Troeltsch
does not, as some of his critics have affirmed, proceed by a
standard which is wholly subjective. The ideal by which he
ascribes this place to Christianity is supposedly determined by
the historical and comparative study of religion. It is not a
general abstraction from all religions, but rather the ideal
51 Troeltsch, Psychologie und Erkenntnistheorie in der Religionswissen-
schaft, p. 38.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 481
toward which they all strive, and which Christianity most
fully realizes. But the religious value and the validity of this
ideal is dependent on the fact that it is supposed to transcend
the whole historical evolution of religion and every historical
religion. It is only, therefore, because Troeltsch's religious
consciousness is under the influence of historical Christianity,
that he recognizes this ideal as most fully realized in it. The
comparative study of religions could never yield this result, as
Troeltsch fully realizes and explicitly affirms. The question of
the place of Christianity among the world's religions is one
that cannot be answered by such a method.
This method, moreover, if it is to observe its limits as a
method which seeks to explain historical phenomena from
purely immanent causes, may explain that which may be ex
plained in this way; it cannot affirm that supernatural events,
which cannot be thus explained, are impossible, without going
beyond its limits and becoming dogmatically anti-supernatural-
istic. In the third place, therefore, it should be noted that this is
precisely what Troeltsch has done. This so-called historical
method is not historical ; it is dogmatic, that is, determined by
naturalistic metaphysical presuppositions. In this lies the
fundamental inconsistency of Troeltsch's position. At times
it is made to appear as if the denial of any direct supernatur
alism were the result of the application of a purely unbiased
historical method to the investigation of the different relig
ions. But in point of fact this naturalistic philosophy under
lies and pre-determines the rules of the so-called historical
method. It is, therefore, a foregone conclusion that only
naturalism will be read out of any study of the history of
religions, which is prosecuted under the control of these
rules. Thus, to take but one example, the principle of
" analogy " affirms that nothing can have happened in the
past that we do not experience to happen in the present. But
this is a pure assumption begging the question and involving
the very point at issue. It is conceivable that there might be
historical evidence which would lead us to the opposite con
clusion, unless we have pre-judged the whole question. In
other words, if we base our conclusions on a study of the

482 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
entire experience of the human race instead of on a mere
section of that experience, we may find that it is fallacious to
erect one section of that experience into a norm for the de
termination of the character of the whole. It is no historical
judgment to assert that Jesus never rose from the dead be
cause we now do not see dead men rising again. In a word,
the method which is supposed to yield a naturalistic result,
is itself the product of an anti-supernaturalistic metaphysics
which must justify itself as a view of the world, and cannot
rest upon any so-called historical study which it itself pre
determines. At times Troeltsch recognizes this. We have seen how, in
comparing what he calls the " dogmatic method " with what he
calls the " historical method ", he asserts that just as the for
mer proceeds upon the metaphysical basis of supernaturalism,
so the latter is based upon the metaphyicsal idea of an " im
manent causation " which he says is the precise opposite of
supernaturalism. 5 2
It is the great defect of Troeltsch's whole mode of proced
ure that he gives no adequate defense of this metaphysics
over against the supernaturalism of evangelical Christianity.
He simply asserts that the Illumination of the 18th Century
has rendered belief in it impossible ; or that " historical
science " has rendered it untenable. But he gives no adequate
refutation of it, and in every case his anti-supernaturalism ap
pears as an unwarranted assumption which pre-determines the
so-called scientific investigation, which is in turn called upon
to serve as its support.
This is true not only of Troeltsch, it is true of all natur
alism which is not based upon materialism or pantheism.
Bousset affirms53 that it is a fundamental characteristic of
modern thought to explain everything in the world by purely
immanent causes (von innen heraus), and that the modern
view of the world postulates the universal reign of law in
nature and also in spiritual life.54 No really adequate reason
82 Troeltsch, Ueber historische und dogmatische Methode der Theol.,
Theol. Arbeiten usw. p. 99.
53 Bousset, Das Wesen der Religion, 1903, p. 243.
54 Ibid., p. 257.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 483
however, is given to justify this postulate or to show why a
transcendent and personal God may not act in a supernatural
manner in the Universe which he created. The same thing is
illustrated in the case of the late Prof. Pfleiderer. He differs
from Troeltsch in that he asserts the finality of Christianity
somewhat after the Hegelian fashion. But his method of
getting rid of historical and supernatural Christianity is simi
lar to that of Troeltsch. It is in the name of " history ", of
" science ", and of " method ", that Pfleiderer would do away
with supernatural Christianity,55 and yet it is perfectly evi
dent that an anti-supernaturalistic philosophy is at the bot
tom of the so-called " scientific method ". For it is said to be
a method of " causal thinking ", according to which " every
event is the necessary effect of causes whose operation is
determined by their connection with other causes, or by their
place in the totality of a reciprocal action of forces in ac
cordance with law ".56 This method is to be applied to Chris
tian theology and renders impossible miracles in nature and
such supernatural events as regeneration. These are de
clared to be " unscientific " and " impossible ".5T Pfleiderer
is too clear a thinker not to see that this view is the precise
opposite of that of the Christianity of the New Testament
and of the " old theology " which recognizes the direct or
supernatural activity of God apart from all natural or second
causes, and which regards the great Christian facts as " effec
ted by causes which are outside the causal connections of
finite forces ". It is clear, then, that it is not " science ", but
this naturalistic philosophy which is at the bottom of Pfleid-
erer's rejection of the supernatural Christianity of the New
Testament. Accordingly the real issue in reference to the truth and final
ity of Christianity is whether the high supernaturalism of the
Christianity of the New Testament can be maintained, or
whether a naturalistic philosophy expresses the ultimate truth
concerning God's relation to the world. Troeltsch, moreover,
is right in affirming that this supernaturalism presupposes a
"Pfleiderer, Evolution and Theology and Other Essays, 1000, pp. 1-26.
"Ibid., p. 2. "Ibid., p. 9.

484 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
definite conception of God and of his relation to the world;
and Troeltsch states this conception correctly when he says
that according to this view God is not confined to his action
through second causes, but is capable of " breaking through "
these causes and " intruding " directly in the world to pro
duce effects which the whole course of Nature and history
could not produce even under God's providential control.58
Can God thus " intrude " ? Can he intervene in the world to
save man from sin ? This is the question upon which the very
life of Christianity depends, for Christianity is through and
through a supernatural religion in just this sense.
That this question of the possibility of such a supernatural
mode of God's activity is the fundamental question, can be
seen from the fact that most of the denials of the super
natural character and origin of Christianity rest ultimately on
the assumption of the impossibility of the supernatural in this
sense. We have seen, for example, that this assumption is
supposed to be a rule of method of " modern historical
science ". That it is a mere assumption follows from the fact
that no valid objection to events supernatural in this sense,
can be made if their possibility be granted. A miracle, to take
one instance of such a supernatural event, can be said to be
incredible only if incapable of proof, or if impossible. It can
be held to be incapable of proof, however, only if it is sup
posed to be impossible. Two arguments have been advanced
to show that a miracle, though possible, is nevertheless in
capable of proof, neither of which is valid. One of these is
that which Hume advanced in his famous Essay on Miracles.59
It is, in a word, that there is always a uniform experience
08 Ueber historische u. dogmatische Methode, usw., Theol. Arbeiten usw.
p. 100. Troeltsch here gives a clear description of the old evangelical super
naturalism when he says that God is not confined to an action through
second causes, but can directly intrude into the complex of such causes.
His words are that, according to this view, " Gott ist nicht in den Zusam-
menhang eines correlativen, sich uberall gegenseitig bedingenden Wirkens
und eines jede lebendige Bewegung nur als Bewegung des Gesammtzu-
sammenhangs schaffenden Zweckwollens eingeschlossen, sondern seiner
regelmassigen Wirkungsweise gegeniiber auch zu ausserordentlichen, die-
sen Zusammenhang aufhebenden und durchbrechenden Wirkungen fahig."
89 Hume, Works, vol. IV. pp. 124 sq.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 485
against the occurrence of any such event which amounts to a
proof of its non-occurrence. The nerve of this argument is
expressed in Hume's statement " that no testimony is sufficient
to establish a miracle unless the testimony be of such a kind
that its falsehood would be more miraculous than the fact
which it endeavors to establish." The fallacy here is ob
vious. The question at issue is precisely whether human ex
perience as a whole has or has not included such events.
Huxley criticised Hume's argument, pointing out how it
amounts to a denial of the possibility of miraculous events and
giving it a more plausible form of statement.60 Regarding
simply the concrete question of the grounds of belief in such
events, Huxley asserted that " the more a statement of fact
conflicts with previous experience, the more complete must be
the evidence which is to justify us in believing it." This de
mands that we require an amount of evidence equal to the im
probability of the event, which is just a " miraculous " amount
of evidence. Hence a miracle is in the nature of the case incap
able of proof. But this argument is not valid. Notice what one
must prove. Is it simply the occurrence of the event, or the
supernatural character of the cause ? Obviously it is primarily
the former. Rothe61 insisted on this distinction, and Warfield
has called attention to it very pointedly.62 We are not required
to give evidence to show that an event which has occurred is
due to a supernatural cause, but simply that an event which
must be due to a supernatural cause has taken place. But if the
evidence is only to establish the fact of the occurrence of the
event, there is no reason to demand any miraculous amount of
evidence, unless we have some a priori notion regarding its
causality which really makes us regard it as impossible. And
even granting that the evidence must not only establish the
occurrence of the event, but also show that its cause is super
natural, no argument from a uniform past experience can be
sufficient to render the event incapable of having sufficient evi
dence for it presented, unless the impossibility of such an event
be presupposed. This whole line of argument amounts simply
80 Huxley, Hume, pp. 131, 132.
61 Rothe, Zur Dogmatik, pp. 88 sq.
62 B. B. Warfield, On Miracles; Bible Student, VII. pp. 121-126.

486 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
to this — that while in the abstract the possibility of super
natural events is admitted, one is nevertheless so convinced by
his own small section of experience that such events cannot
happen that no amount of evidence can convince him.
The other main argument to show that while miracles are
possible, they are nevertheless incapable of proof, is that there
is always the possibility that they are due to some unknown
higher natural laws. This argument has plausibility only upon
the supposition of the impossibility of the direct action of God
within the sphere of and apart from second causes. Once
grant the occurrence of the Resurrection of Christ; it is more
reasonable to refer it to the immediate power of God than to
any unknown natural laws, unless we presuppose the impos
sibility of such action by God. And if we do, we will scarcely
be convinced of the Resurrection of Christ by any amount of
evidence. The question, therefore, as was said, is whether God can act
in this directly supernatural manner ; or whether events due to
this direct Divine power are possible. The answer to the ques
tion may be briefly put as follows — that the impossibility of the
supernatural in this sense, can be maintained only upon grounds
that transcend not only actual and possible experience, but also
any supposed necessity arising from the causal judgment or the
idea of natural law ; in a word only on the basis of some anti-
theistic view of the world.
It goes without saying that there can be no question of any
thing supernatural on the basis of the old fashioned mater
ialism. There being no God and no human soul except as a
perishable product of the body, it is useless to talk of any re
ligion, not to speak of Christianity.
This view of the world is very largely abandoned, and its
place has been taken by what goes by the name of Naturalism.
This, in a word, is the view of the world which dogmatically
asserts that the mathematico-mechanical description of the
world is the only and ultimate explanation of the entire uni
verse. Its principles are, as James Ward says,63 the mechanical
theory of the universe, the evolution theory in a mechanical
83 James Ward, Naturalism and Agnosticism, 1903, I. Preface.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 487
form, and the theory that mental states are shadows, " epi-
phenomena " of physical phenomena. Though too sceptical
to assert the existence of any " substance ", and hence reject
ing materialism, naturalism, as Ward says, abandons neither
the materialistic standpoint, nor the materialistic attempt to
give a purely mechanical explanation of all the facts of life
and mind. Its method consists simply in taking the ideas of
abstract mathematical mechanics, and applying them to the
real world of concrete experience. The mechanical scientist
simply leaves all qualitative distinctions unexplained; the
naturalist explains them all away by reducing them to merely
quantitative and mathematical ones. It is simply mechanical
science become dogmatic and offering a final explanation of
everything. This view leaves no room for teleology, for re
ligious or any other ideals. It rules out the supernatural in
any sense, and is essentially anti-theistic. It has been ably
criticised by James Ward in his well known Gifford Lectures.
On the other hand, idealistic pantheism, or " spiritualistic
monism " as it is sometimes called, is just as much opposed
to the directly supernatural action of God and to the dis
tinction between the natural and the supernatural as above
set forth, as is materialism and naturalism. It is true that it
interprets the world in terms of spirit, but since it identifies
God and the world and allows no existence or activity tran
scendent to the universe, any distinction whatever between the
natural and the supernatural is impossible. There is really no
basis for any religion since the distinction between God and
man, and with it the personality of God is denied.
It is not our purpose, however, nor would it be possible
within the limits of this essay, to give any criticism or discus
sion of the anti-theistic theories. Those theories, as has been
said, leave no room for any religion, if religion is a relation of
man to God, since they do away wth any distinction between
God and man. It is of course impossible to discuss the ques
tion of the finality of Christianity or of the possibility of the
supernatural modes of God's activity with one who does not
believe in God. The theological writers whose views we have
been discussing, however, are theists. What we wish to do,
therefore, is to show that upon a theistic view of the world

488 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
the possibility of this directly supernatural activity of God,
implied in the Christian view of the world, cannot be de
nied. In saying this, it is a truly theistic view that is meant;
a view which is in earnest with the idea of the personality and
transcendence of God. But since the main reasons which
theists urge against pantheism are just those reasons which
lead us to regard God as personal and transcendent, this is
the only theism which can maintain itself against pantheism.
The evidences of teleology or purpose which mind is called on
to explain, are explained only if this finality or purposiveness
is intentional. In other words a " pantheistic theism ", to use
a phrase of Rashdall's,64 is untenable. To say that God is a
Person, but " God is all ", is not possible. If finite spirits are
all parts of God, then theism is abandoned, for, as Rashdall
says, upon such a view we could only call God good by main
taining that the deliverences of our moral consciousness have
no validity for God, and this Bradley would have us believe.
But a God who is " beyond good and evil " is not God and
assuredly not an object of worship.65 Moreover the formula
" God is all " is really unmeaning. Such an all inclusive con
sciousness swallows up all distinctions including its own per
sonality as well as that of man. It is really meaningless to
speak of one consciousness as " included in another conscious
ness ". It is the characteristic of consciousness " to exist for
itself ". The finite spirit is not independent of God, but its
consciousness cannot be " included " in God's consciousness
without losing the personality of both God and man. We
agree with Rashdall that McTaggert is right in asserting that
if God is to include in himself all other spirits, and if the
personality and self consciousness of those spirits is not to be
denied, then this absolute or so-called God in which they are
to be included, cannot be considered as conscious or self-con
scious or have the attributes of God. We thus lose God and
fall into " non-theistic idealism " and pluralism. Hence a
truly theistic view asserts the personality of God and also that
he infinitely transcends the entire universe, the entire sum of
" H. Rashdall, Philosophy and Religion, 1910, p. 101.
65 Ibid., p. 104.

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY 489
whose energies is as nothing compared with the infinite power
of God.
Theism, moreover, not only asserts the personality and tran
scendence of God, it regards him as the Creator of the uni
verse. The world cannot be regarded simply as an " exper
ience " or " thought " of God, as the idealist would have us
believe, for then it could not be distinguished from all the
thoughts of God which are not actually realized, nor would its
relative independence be explained. The world is the
created product of God's power, upheld and governed by him.
This is the theistic view, and it is our contention that no theist
can deny the directly supernatural modes of God's activity,
because in the act of Creation itself is given the first instance
of such activity, and since God, being the Creator of the world,
cannot be entangled in his created product.
We have to ask, then, upon what grounds the transcend
ence of God is affirmed and the transcendent modes of his
action on the world denied; or upon what grounds it is held
that God is not only immanent and yet that only his immanent
mode of action is possible. This is done usually upon two
grounds. In the first place, supernatural events are said to
be impossible because they imply a suspension of or interfer
ence with natural laws. But what is a natural law? The
term is sometimes used simply as an empirical statement or
description of the way in which events uniformly happen. If
this is the meaning of natural law, it is obvious that it does
not render impossible miracles or any other class of super
natural events. A miracle, for example, being ex hypothesi
an event outside of the natural empirical order of things, can
not be proven either possible or impossible by any experience
of this natural order. If experience includes such events, it
is no longer an experience based on the purely natural order of
things, while on the other hand we cannot infer from any
merely uniform experience that events cannot occur which
will transcend this hitherto experienced uniformity. Some
times the term natural law is used to denote a necessary mathe
matical equation, and is applied in an attempt to describe
phenomena from the idea of a number of mass points in mo
tion. But the science of mechanics is fully aware that this

490 FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY
mechanical view is not an ultimate explanation of everything.
If this latter supposition is made, then the view point of natural
science is transcended, and we fall into naturalism which is
an anti-theistic speculative theory. Or once more, a natural
law is sometimes supposed to be an efficient force which
causes the observed phenomena to follow the uniformity which
is observed. In this case the uniformity could be predicted,
and would be more than an empirical generalization. But even
this idea of natural law does not render supernatural events
impossible. We may not suppose that God the Creator of the
universe is so subjected to the laws of his creation that he
cannot act in the world directly. If God is not simply a name
for nature, but is the Creator of nature, he cannot be en
tangled in his creation. Nor can the sum of the energies in
the universe in any way express the totality of his power. It
was infinite power that brought the world into being, and that
world whose laws simply express the providential control of
the Creator, cannot constitute a limit to the Omnipotence
which gave rise to it. Neither does this providential control
exhaust the ways by which God may act upon his creation.
The possibility of the directly supernatural mode of God's ac
tion follows from the idea of the divine transcendence which
is the center of an adequately theistic conception of God. It
is not necessary to go with the pantheist and deny all efficiency
to second causes, in order to realize that they cannot limit God.
If we believe that God is infinite and the universe finite, there
is absolutely no basis for the assertion that God's action
through second causes is the only way he can act. Moreover
the immanent activities of God are rooted in his transcendence.
If we resolve his providential control into a mere name for the
forces of Nature, we are really giving up the idea of God's
providence and falling into a pantheism which does not dis
tinguish God from the world. On the other hand, if the real
nature of God's Providence, according to theism, be recog
nized it will be seen to involve the personality and the tran
scendence of God. In a word, the reasons for belief in God
as against pantheism, are reasons for belief in an infinite Per
son, infinitely transcending the world. The affirmation that
God is infinitely transcendent of the world, and yet can only

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY

491

act through natural causes is one that cannot stand against
pantheism. In the second place, it is sometimes affirmed that super
natural events are impossible because they contradict the
causal judgment as a necessary law of thought which pre
supposes that nature is an absolutely closed and concatenated
system of second causes. Any intrusion into this system is
supposed to violate a necessary law of thought. This objec
tion, which appears still more serious, is still less plausible
than the former. All that the causal judgment asserts is that
there is no effect without an adequate cause. There is no
possible way by which this can be made to exclude the im
mediate causality of God, if it be granted that there is a God.
It will be replied that the idea of cause is one that applies only
to relations between phenomena, and does not apply to the
relation of God to the world. But this can only mean that
the idea of cause which is valid for natural science cannot be
applied to God. If God is the Creator of the world, he can
be the efficient agent of effects in the world, call this by what
name you will.
The conclusion of all this is that upon no ground other
than that offered by an anti-theistic view of the world, can
be based a denial of the possibility of the supernatural modes
of God's activity.
If this be so, then the question of the supernatural origin and
character of Christianity which lies at the basis of its claim
to finality, is simply one of evidence. Into the question of
Christian evidences we cannot enter. The question ulti
mately reduces itself to this — is it more reasc—ible to be
lieve that the divine Christ of the New Testament, who has
transformed the world, is a myth or a reality. The idea that
Jesus was a mere man who spake no mighty words and
wrought no mighty deeds, who was deceived by current Mes
sianic notions, who was killed by his enemies and never rose
again; — -this idea is that of a Jesus who cannot be found in
the historical sources of Christianity, and who, if he could
be so found, could never have inspired his followers to deify
him, nor be the cause of the rise and progress of historical
Christianity. The only Christ of the earliest sources is a

492

FINALITY OF CHRISTIANITY

supernatural and divine Christ,i — the Christ of Peter, of Paul,
of John, of the Synoptists, and of the sources which are sup
posed to underlie the Synoptists — a Christ, in a word, who
claimed to be God, who lived like God, and who has wrought
effects which only God could, and. who is an adequate explan
ation of the Christian religion in its rise and progress. The
question of the truth and consequently of the finality of Chris
tianity, therefore, reduces itself to this — whether in view of
the possibility of the supernatural and of a theistic view of
the world, and of the evidences for the reality of this Christ,
it is more reasonable to suppose that Christianity is a product
of the myth building fantasy, or that the Christ of the New
Testament is a reality.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE
SHEPHERD OF HERMAS
Kerr Duncan Macmillan

The Problem and its Bearings.
The External Evidence.
The date of publication of the Shepherd.
Its immediate reception.
Its later position — in Gaul, Africa, Alexandria, Rome.
The Internal Evidence.
Its literary form.
Relation to apocalyptic and Hermetic literature.
Was Hermas a prophet?
Hermas' life and character.
Hermas a composite figure.
Alternation of singular and plural.
Notable omissions explained.
Summary.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE
SHEPHERD OF HERMAS
One need not apologize for choosing what may appear to
some an unimportant and petty problem in the history of the
church. It is not such. Its solution will affect considerably
our estimate of the church of the second century, especially
in respect to its literary activity, its dogmatic conceptions,
and the part played in it by Christian prophecy. Moreover
it has a direct bearing on the question of the origin and growth
of the New Testament canon. For there is a number of
scholars to-day who affirm that the idea of a New Testament
canon as we now have it does not appear in the church until
toward the end of the second century; that up to that time
the Old Testament (including the Apocrypha and Jewish
Apocalypses) had been the " Bible " of the church, and the
words of the Lord and the utterances of Christian prophets
had been closely associated with it as authoritative; that this
condition continued until about the close of the second cen
tury, when, out of the struggle with Gnosticism and Montan-
ism the church emerged with a new standard of canonicity
namely apostolicity.1 That is to say it is asserted that Chris
tian prophecies even when reduced to writing were regarded
. as authoritative in the church just because they were prophecies
and without any regard to their date or the person of the
prophets, and this continued until the exigencies of the
church demanded that a new test be erected, at which time
those prophecies which had hitherto been regarded as authori
tative were deposed from their high dignity unless they could
establish a claim to apostolic origin.
JE. g. Harnack, Dogmengeschichte, 4 Aufl. I, pp. 372-399- Leipoldt,
Entstehung des neutest. Kanons, I, pp. 33, 37 U 39 Zusatz 2, 41 ff. B.
Weiss, Einleit. in d. Neue Test. 3 Aufl. Sec. 5, 4, n. 1 ; 8, 5 ; 9, 6.

496 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
The Shepherd of Hermas has always played a part in the
discussion attending this theory for it is one of the so called
prophecies which are said to have been degraded, but it has
not, I think, played the part it should have or will when its
unique position is understood. For not only can its date be
approximately fixed in the first half of the second century,
but it is the only one of the so called prophecies which does
not claim for itself apostolic origin. In connection with its
history therefore, can the test of prophecy versus apostolicity
in the middle and third quarter of the second century be
brought to the clearest issue. If it be found that the book
was published and accepted as a prophecy, we shall be able
to tell from the nature of the reception accorded it what the
opinion of the church then was regarding contemporaneous
Christian prophecy. And if on the contrary it turns out that
it was not published or accepted as a prophecy, the main prob
lem will be to ascertain how such a work could in the course
of say forty years claim equal rank with acknowledged in
spired and authoritative books; and we shall incidentally have
removed from the discussion the only work, which at present
can be pointed to in support of the theory that Christian
prophecy qua prophecy, was authoritative in the second cen
tury. I therefore propose to examine the Shepherd of Hermas
and its early history with a view to determining the author's
intention regarding it, the nature of its reception and treat
ment by the early church, and how and why it is involved
in the history of the canon of the New Testament.
It is strange that this subject has been comparatively neg
lected. The text of the Shepherd has recently received very
careful attention, the questions of its origin and unity and date
have been, and are still, warmly debated, and the material
furnished by it is liberally drawn upon by all students of the
early Christian church. But the question of the intention of
the author in publishing his work in the form of an apocalypse
has been on the whole much neglected. Most writers to-day
seem to assume that its author and his contemporaries in
genuously believed that he had been the recipient of real and
divine revelations. But little or no discussion is given to the
matter. For the sake of completeness I shall enumerate the

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 497
four hypotheses which to my mind exhaust the possibilities,
any one of which might be regarded as satisfactory; and I
may add that each of them has its supporters. ( 1 ) The work
may be regarded as a genuine revelation.2 (2) It may be re
garded as a deliberate though pious fraud.3 (3) The visions
and revelations may be regarded as purely subjective. In
this case Hermas may be regarded as a mystic, or a vision
ary, or epileptic, or be classed in a general way with the
" prophets " of the second century, without inquiring par
ticularly about the psychology of such " prophecy ". Some
such explanation as this is quite possible, being not infrequently
paralleled in history, and we must give it the more consider
ation as it is the view most generally accepted by scholars to
day.4 (4) We may regard it as fiction, pure and simple, and
the visions and heavenly commands as a literary garb deliber
ately chosen by the author without any intention of deceit ; in
other words it may be an allegory.5 Of these four possibilities
2 In modern times this has been held by Wake {Apostolical Fathers, p.
187), and some Irvingite scholars, e. g. Thiersch, Die Kirche im aposto-
lischen Zeitalter, pp. 350 ff.
3 So. apparently Bardenhewer, Geschichte der altkirchlichen Literatur
(1902), Vol. I. p. 563, " Der Verfasser schreibt auf Grund gottlicher Offen-
barungen und infolge gottlichen Auftrags. Er tritt als ein vom Geiste
Gottes inspirierter Prophet auf. Ohne Zweifel hat er damit seinen Mah-
nungen und Mitteilungen eine grossere Kraft, eine hohere Weihe geben
wollen. Dass er Anstoss erregen wiirde, war kaum zu befurchten. Er
schrieb zu einer Zeit, wo der Glaube an die Fortdauer des prophetischen
Charismas noch allegemein geteilt wurde " Mosheim, De rebus Christ.
ante Constant., pp. 163, 166 inclines to a view of Hermas which makes him
" scientem volentemque fefellisse ". Salmon, Diet. Chr. Bio., Art. " Her
mas ", thinks Hermas " probably cannot be cleared from conscious deceit ".
4 Bigg, Origins of Christianity, p. 73 f. Zahn {Der Hirt des Hermas pp.
365 ff.) perceives the importance of the problem and laments the lack of
interest shown in it to-day. He regards the visions as real experiences
of the author and thinks the Roman Church was right in seeing in them
a divine message, but refuses to discuss the question of their permanent
worth (pp. 381 f.). Harnack, Zeitschrift fiir Kirchengeschichte III, p.
369, and elsewhere. Leipoldt, op. cit., p. 33, n. 2, and others.
5 Donaldson, The Apostolical Fathers, p. 326 ff. Lightfoot, Bibl. Essays,
p. 96. Charteris, Canonicity, p. xxiv. Behm, Ueber den Verfasser der
Schrift, welche den Titel "Hirt" fuhrt. J. V. B(artlet), Encyc. Brit.
nth ed. Art Hermas favors the more symbolic view. How these views

498 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
the second should only be made on the basis of far stronger
evidence than has yet been adduced, and after all other hy
potheses have been shown to be insufficient. Moreover, as the
first and third have certain points of contact and in the mjnds
of some cannot be sharply sundered, we may state our prob
lem in the question : Is the Shepherd of Hermas an apo
calypse or an allegory, — using the word " apocalypse " as
significant, not of the real nature of the contents of the work,
but of its claims. And should it appear in the course of our
examination that the Shepherd does indeed claim to be a
revelation, then, and not till then, will emerge the question of
the justification of such a claim.
There is no difficulty about determining the date of the
Shepherd in a general way. Most scholars agree that it was
written somewhere between 97 and 140 A.D., or thereabouts.6
But when we seek to define the time more accurately, a diffi
culty presents itself, for we have, curiously, two excellent
pieces of testimony, one internal and one external, which are
hard to harmonize. In the early part of his work7 Hermas
refers in quite a natural unforced manner to a certain Clement
as one to whom had been committed the duty of correspond
ing with foreign churches, and apparently as one of the pres
byters of the Church at Rome, of which Hermas was a member.
Now there is one Clement well known to all antiquity as the
author of the epistle of the Church of Rome to that at Corinth,
to whom this seems undoubtedly to point. That would give
a date somewhere about 100 A.D. The other piece of evidence
is that contained in the so-called Muratori Fragment, which
dates from about the end of the second century. This informs
us that the Shepherd was written " very recently, in our own
times ", during the episcopate of Pius of Rome, by Pius's
brother Hermas. This would give a date about 150 A.D.
have received modification and been related to the varying opinions con
cerning the date and authorship of the Shepherd may be seen in the table
furnished in Gebhardt und Harnack, Patrum Apostolicorum Opera, Fasc.
III., p. lxxxiii, n. 2.
8 For the few who go outside these limits, see the table referred to in
note 5.
7 Vis. ii. 1.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 499
Until quite recently scholars have been divided according
as the first or the second of these testimonials seemed to them
the more weighty, and ingenious conjectures have been pro
posed for explaining^ away the rejected evidence.8 Lately,
however, as an outcome of discussion concerning the unity of
the work, the opinion has gained ground that the Shepherd
was not produced at one time but piecemeal throughout a
number of years. This and the uncertainty both of the date
of Clement's death and of the years of Pius' episcopate have
made it possible for Prof. Harnack to propose a compromise.9
He thinks now that the earlier portion of the work was pro
duced about no A.D. (possibly in the 3rd year of Trajan)
when Clement may still have been living, and that the book
was published "in its completed form about 135-140 A.D.,
when Pius may have been bishop of Rome. For our pur
poses we need not enter into the details of the argument.
We shall assume, that which is denied by very few, that the
work was in existence in its finished form about the year 135
or 140 — always remembering that it may have been known
earlier. Taking this, then, as the date when the Shepherd was given
to the church, we ask: how was it received? Remember it
is not a small book; it is about equal in size to our first two
gospels together. Nor was it published in a corner, but at
the center of the world, in the city of Rome. Such a work
as this, if regarded as divinely inspired, and equal to the Old
Testament in authority, must have made a considerable stir,
and that immediately, and in the whole church. And yet
there is not one particle of evidence to show that it was re
garded as Scripture or in any sense divine during the 30 or
40 years following its publication. Not until we come down
to Irenaeus, the Muratori Fragment, Clement of Alexandria,
Origen and Tertullian is it quoted and referred to as Scrip
ture or of divine inspiration. Nor can it be objected that this
is merely an argument from silence and so of no cogency.
8 Zahn, in Der Hirt des Hermas and elsewhere, has been the strongest de
fender of the earlier date.
'Geschichte d. altchristlichen Literatur ii., i. pp. 257 ff., where a brief
review of the argument and the more important literature may be found.

500 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
For there were events in Rome at this time, and discussion in
the church concerning authoritative and non-authoritative
writings, of which we are well informed, and into which the
Shepherd undoubtedly would have been drawn had it oc
cupied the exalted position that is claimed for it. The result
is the same wherever we look — not only at Rome but through
out the whole of the Christian literature coming from or
dealing with this period, there is not the slightest evidence
that the Shepherd was regarded as of any special import
ance. It was at this time, for instance, that Marcion founded his
school at Rome and formed his canon. But in all the dis
cussions about the books he rejected or received, there is no
word of the Shepherd, although we are inf&rmed by Ter
tullian10 that he rejected a work now frequently associated
with it in discussions concerning the canon, viz., the Apo-
calpyse of John. This should be decisive alone. If the Shep
herd were regarded by either party as divinely inspired, it is
incomprehensible that it should not have been brought into
the controversy by one side or the other.11 The Gnostic Valen-
tinus was also established in Rome at this time. He accepted
all the Catholic Scriptures, as we are informed by Tertullian,12
and turned them to suit his own ends by means of the alle
gorical method of interpretation. But there is no sign that
he accepted, or so used the Shepherd; although its form and
contents are admirably adapted to his methods and results
We know that he so used the Apocalypse of John,13 but
neither Irenaeus, who gives us this information, and who was
acquainted with the Shepherd, nor Tertullian, who would not
have failed to attack the heretic for making use of a work
which he himself regarded as apocryphal and false, contains
the slightest indication that Valentinus knew anything about
the Shepherd. Hegesippus was in Rome at this time — during
10 Adv. Marc. IV. 5.
11 Harnack {Gesch. d. altchrist. Lit. I. i., p. 51), remarks without com
ment, and apparently without perceiving the import of his remark : " Be-
merkt sei, dass sich bei den Gnostikern und Marcion keine Spur einer
Benutzung unseres Buches findet."
12 Pvaescr. c. 38. 13 Irenaeus, Haer. i. 15.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 501
the episcopate of Anicetus.14 Unfortunately, the only piece
of evidence we have from his pen is the statement preserved
by Eusebius to the effect that some of the so-called apocrypha
were composed in his (i. e. Hegesippus') day by heretics.
And yet even this is important coming as it does through
Eusebius, who used all diligence to discover the origin of the
books disputed or rejected in his own time — one of which was
the Shepherd of Hermas. For, on the one hand, as the
Shepherd was certainly not regarded as heretical or apocryphal
in the days of Anicetus, it cannot be assumed among those
referred to by Hegesippus in this passage; and, on the other
hand, as Eusebius records nothing from Hegesippus' writings
concerning the Shepherd, the probable inference is that he
found nothing worthy of record; certainly it was not one of
the authoritative books of the Church. Justin Martyr, too,
was acquainted with the Rome of this period, and speaks in a
general way of prophets being still known in the church,15
but in all his writings there is no mention of Hermas or any
reference to his book. The answer is the same when we in
quire of Celsus, the opponent of Christianity, who probably
wrote during the period under review. He shows considerable
acquaintance with Christianity and the Christian writings, but
there is no sign of Hermas or his Shepherd.16 Nor does the
early history of Montanism, although concerned with prophecy,
afford any evidence. It is not until the time of Tertullian that
it is brought into the discussion.17 It is true that a relationship
has been found or fancied between the Shepherd and the let
ters of Ignatius,18 that of Polycarp,19 the so-called Second
14 Eusebius, HE. iv. 22. " Trypho, c. 82.
18 A definite reference could hardly be expected. Celsus knows of Chris
tian prophecy in his own time, but the description he gives of it does not
tally with the contents of the Shepherd. See Origen, contra Cels. vi. 34 f.,
vii. n.
11 The Anti-montanist of Eusebius {HE. v. 17), gives a list of those who
prophesied under the new covenant. Two names are added to those known
in Scripture, but Hermas is not one of them. This writer is later how
ever than the period we are discussing; Bonwetsch (Art. Montanismus in
Herzog, Realencycl. third ed.) and McGiffert {Nicene and Post Nicene
Fathers, Vol. I., p. 233, n. 32), put him about 192 A. D.
"Zahn, Ignatius von Antioch, pp. 618 f. w Ibid., p. 620.

502

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

Epistle of Clement,20 the Preaching of Peter,21 Theophilus of
Antioch22 and Melito of Sardis,23 but these are mere resem
blances24 and prove at most only acquaintance with it. None
of them rises to the rank of citation, much less is there any
thing to show that the Shepherd was regarded as on an equality
with the Old Testament or divinely inspired. In short, there
is nothing in the literature of this period to show that the
Shepherd of Hermas commanded any more respect than might
be given to any work suitable for edification.25
In and after the last quarter of the second century we find
a change of attitude toward the Shepherd. In Gaul Irenaeus
quotes it as " Scripture ",26 thus apparently putting it on a
par with the other canonical works. And yet scholars are by
no means agreed that this is his intention. It is difficult to
reconcile Irenaeus' usage elsewhere, and his emphasis upon
apostolicity as a prerequisite of canonicity, with such an ex
planation. It is noted that the Shepherd is not named in this
quotation,27 nor is it quoted anywhere else in Irenaeus' works'
as far as we know them, although some resemblances are
found;28 moreover, when he is confessedly marshalling the
20 Harnack, Theol. Literaturzeitung, 1876, Col. 104. Cf. Overbeck, ibid.,
1877, Col. 287 f.
21 Hilgenfeld, Hermae Pastor, p. 1 f., 35.
22 Harnack, Patr. Apostol. Op., Fasc. iii., note to Vis. 1, 6.
23 Harnack, Sitzungsbericht d. Berliner Akademie d. Wissenschaft, 1898,
£>• 517 «¦
24 For still more doubtful resemblances to other works, see Gebhardt und
Harnack, Patr. Apostol. Op. Fasc. iii., p. xliv f., n. 2.
25 Leipoldt, op. cit., pp. 33 ff., p. 38, Zusatz 1, gives the earliest references
to the Apocalypses. A convenient list of early citations of the Shepherd
may be found in Harnack's Geschichte d. altchristl. Literatur, I. i., pp. 51 ff.,
and a fuller discussion of them in the various editions of the text, par
ticularly that of Gebhardt and Harnack.
20 1-Iaer. IV. 20, 2, quoting Mand. I., 1.
27 It is a possible but not necessary inference that Harnack {Patr. Apos
tol, Op., Fasc. iii. p. xiv, n. 1, c.) draws from this fact, viz. that the book
was so well known that its name might be omitted.
23 Harnack, Geschichte d. altchr. Lit., I, i., p. 52, gives the following pas
sages : Haer. I, 13, 3 = Mand. xi. 3 ; I, 21, 1 = Mand. I, 1 ; II, 30, 9 = Sim.
IX, 12, 8; Frag. Gr. 29 (Harvey II, p. 494) = Sim. VIII, 3, 2, and perhaps
Haer. IV, 30, 1 = Sim. 1. Cf. Zahn, Der Hirt des Hermas, p. 267, n. 2.
None of these are more than resemblances.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 503
scriptural arguments against the Valentinians,29 though he
quotes freely from most of the books of the New Testament
(as we know it), he has no reference to, or proof drawn from,
the Shepherd. In view of these facts some scholars have
thought that Irenaeus regarded the book as of apostolic ori
gin;30 others have supposed that he may have used the term
" Scripture " in this place in the general sense of " writing ",
or that he made a mistake, fancying that the passage he
quoted was Scripture;31 others again are of the opinion that
Irenaeus, while not ascribing the same honor to the Shepherd
as to the prophetical and apostolical writings, regarded it
nevertheless as authoritative.32 It is not necessary for the pur
poses of this investigation to decide between the merits of
these differing views, but I may be allowed to say in passing
that neither the view that Irenaeus regarded the Shepherd as
fully canonical and of apostolic origin, nor that which asserts
that he regarded it as authoritative, but not canonical in the
strict sense of the word, accounts for the fact that he quotes
the Shepherd only once when he might have used it many
times to his advantage, unless it be assumed that he was not
well acquainted with the contents of the work. Again to say
that he was mistakenly of the impression that he was quoting
from some canonical book is to take refuge in a conjecture
which is incapable of proof ; and to take " Scripture " in any
other than its usual technical sense, while permitted by the
usage of this author in a few places,33 is contrary to the gen
eral custom of the time, and unsuitable in the passage before
us, where the section from Hermas is used for the purpose of
proving a doctrine and inserted between two passages from
29 Haer. Book III.
30 Hilgenfeld, Apostolische Vdter, p. 180. Zahn, Geschichte des neutes.t.
Kanons, i., p. 335.
31 Donaldson, The Apostolical Fathers, p. 319, though not committing him
self to this view. Gregory, Canon and Text of NT., p. 241 f. But he
treats the evidence too cavalierly.
82 Harnack, Geschichte d. altchristl. Literatur, I, i., p. 52; Patr. Apostol.
Op., Fasc. Ill, p. xlvi. A fuller discussion of the matter may be found in
this latter place, or, where a different conclusion is reached, in Zahn,
Geschichte d. neutest. Kanons, I, p. 333 f.
"Haer. Ill, 6, 4; HI, 17, 4; V, Preface.

504 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
the Old Testament. All the facts of the case would be ac
counted for if we might assume that the Shepherd had only
lately come into Irenaeus' hands, that he regarded it as can
onical and of apostolic origin, but had not been able to acquaint
himself intimately with it.
In North Africa, Tertullian, in his treatise De oratione,
not only shows acquaintance with the Shepherd, but also in
forms us indirectly that the book was well known in the
church34 and that some Christians regarded it as normative
in matters of devotional conduct. Whether or not he shared
their views may not be clear; but certainly he was not con
cerned to argue the matter at this time.35 In another work,
however, after he had been converted to Montanism, and
found the Shepherd in conflict with his rigoristic views, he
calls it " that apocryphal Shepherd of adulterers ",36 and re
minds his opponents that it had been condemned as " apo
cryphal and false by every council of the churches, even your
own ",37 and that the Epistle of Barnabas (the canonical He
brews) was more received among the churches than it was.38
It is sometimes said that in the period which elapsed between
these two references to the Shepherd the attitude of the church
generally toward the work had undergone a change; the first
coming from a time when it was universally regarded as
authoritative and inspired, the second from a later time when
the apocalypses were being excluded from the canon. Such a
sweeping inference is, of course, unjustifiable; we cannot say
that Tertullian speaks for a larger section of the church than
34 Harnack, in Patr. Apostol. Op., Fasc. iii. p. xlviii, n. I, a. e. agreeing
with Zahn {Gott. Gel. Anz. 1873, st. 29, s. 1155), concludes that in Tertul-
lian's time the Shepherd was known to the North Africans in a Latin
Translation. Since then Zahn has changed his opinion and affirms that it
was not translated until later, {Gesch. d. neutest. Kanons, I, 345). Cf.
also Harnack, Das Neue Testament um 200, p. 87.
85 Tertullian, de orat. 16.
86 De pudic. 20. "Ibid., 10.
88 Utique receptior apud ecclesias epistola Barnabae illo apocrypho Pas-
tore moechoruim, ibid., 20. I cannot find any justification for Gregory's
translation, " Would that the letter of Barnabas were rather received
among the churches than that apocryphal Shepherd of adulterers " Canon
and Text of the NT., p. 223.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 505
that with which he was familiar. But we are bound to ascer
tain, if we can, Tertullian's attitude toward the Shepherd, and
whether he changed it, and, if so, why. There can be no doubt
of his later attitude. He then considered the work " apocry
phal and false " and so unworthy of a place in the " divine
instrument ". We cannot be altogether sure what he meant
by " apocryphal " here. The word has been variously under
stood in different periods. The earliest meaning39 appears to
have been " excluded from public use in the Church ", with
out reference either to origin or contents of the book ex
cluded. Soon, however, it came to denote not the fact but
the grounds for such exclusion; that is to say, it stigmatized
a work as untrue with respect either to its contents or to its
origin40 or both. But though we know that these several con
notations existed in the early centuries, we cannot always be
sure in which of them a writer uses the word. It is indeed
sufficiently clear, from the opprobrious terms Tertullian heaps
up, that he condemns the teaching of the Shepherd out and
out, but we should like to know whether by " apocryphal " he
means to imply that the work is also not what it claims to be
with respect to origin; and of this we cannot be certain.
Let us now turn to an examination of the earlier reference.
Some of the North Africans apparently regarded it as im
portant to lay aside their cloaks during prayer and to seat
themselves afterwards. In justification of the first of these
they appealed to 2 Tim. iv. 13, and for the second to the fifth
vision of the Shepherd. Tertullian treats both customs and
both passages appealed to in the same way. Such customs
he says are irrational, superstitious, and savor of idolatry, and
such an interpretation of Scripture childish, and leads to the
foolishest consequences if consistently applied. Now while it
is true that this argument says nothing either of the canonicity
of Paul's letter or the uncanonicity of the Shepherd, still as
39 See Zahn, Geschichte des Neutestamentl. Kanons, I, p. 125 ff. E.
Schiirer in Herzog, Realencyclopaedie, ed. 3, vol. I, p. 622 ff.
40 To Augustine " apocryphal " meant that the origin of a book was
" hidden " or unknown, De civit. Dei. xv. 23, 4. Harnack, Patr. Apostol.
Op., Ill, p. xlix., n. 1, b., thinks Tertullian uses it with reference to
authorship.

506 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
Tertullian did regard Paul's epistles as canonical, and as the
North Africans to whom he was writing seemingly regarded
the Shepherd as equally authoritative in matters of conduct, it
is often affirmed that the African father would not have lost
this opportunity to correct the erroneous estimation placed
upon the latter, had he been at the time of this writing of the
same opinion that he was when he wrote De pudicitia. More
over, it is noted that he here calls the Shepherd " Scriptura " .
It is true that he does this also in the later reference, but in
that case it is obvious that he does so sarcastically with refer
ence to the attitude of those who would appeal to it, and that
he may contrast it with the true Scriptures.41 But in the
former case there is, it is said, no sign of sarcasm, nor any
thing to show that he differed from his correspondents in his
estimate of the Shepherd, or that he regarded it as less binding
than the writings of Paul.42
" At ego eius pastoris scripturas haurio qui non potest frangi."
42 Harnack {Patr. Apost. Op., Fasc. iii., p. xlix) thinks that Tertullian
at this time regarded the Shepherd as " Scripture " but as inferior to the
prophets and the apostles (" sed minime audeo dicere Carthaginienses turn
temporis Pastorem inter scripturas prophetarum et apostolorum recen-
suisse"). He refers to Tertullian's treatment of the Book of Enoch and
suggests that the Shepherd may have had a place at the close of the New
Testament after the Epistle to the Hebrews. But, in Tertullian's treat
ment of the Book of Enoch {de cult. fern. I, 3; II, 10, de idol. 15), there
is every sign that he himself regarded this work as of equal authority with
other Old Testament Scriptures; he calls it "Scriptura", cites it by way of
proof, answers criticisms of its authorship and transmission, says it is
vouched for by the Apostle Jude, and tries to explain why it was unjustly
rejected by the Jews. Nor can the statement "etlegimus omnem scripturam
aedificationi habilem divinitus inspirari " {de cult. fern. I, 3, 2 Tim. iii. 16),
be taken to explain Tertullian's attitude toward the Shepherd, for Tertul
lian is speaking here only of the Old Testament Scriptures, as was St.
Paul before him' — a thing that is often overlooked in discussing this passage
(on the importance of this interpretation of Paul's words for the history
of the New Testament canon, see Harnack, Das Neue Test, um das Jahr
200, pp. 25, 39 f., and opposed to him Leipoldt, op. cit., p. 40).
With regard to the relative value of the Shepherd and the Epistle
to the Hebrews the matter is somewhat different. Harnack is here
following Credner {Geschichte d. neutest. Kanons) and Ronsch {Das neue
Testament Tertullians) , in the view that Tertullian had in his New Tes
tament as a kind of appendix, some works which were to some degree

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 507
If this be the correct explanation of this passage we have to
ask further on what grounds Tertullian granted such a high
inspired and authoritative but on a lower plane than others. Ronsch
gives as the names of these the Epistle of Peter ad Ponticos (1 Peter),
the Epistle of Barnabas to the Hebrews (Hebrews), the Epistle of Jude,
and the Epistle of the Presbyter (2 John). But, without going into details,
it is hard to believe, after reading Scorp. 12 and 14, and de orat. 20, that
Tertullian set the known writings of Peter in any respect below those of
Paul; the Epistle of Jude is referred to only once {de cult. fern. I, 3), but
then as a work of an Apostle and as authoritative; and 2 John is neither
mentioned nor used by the North African Father {Ronsch, p. 572, see Zahn,
Gesch. d. NT. Kanons, Vol. I, p. 111, n. 1, pp. 304 ff., pp. 320 f.).
Tertullian's attitude toward the Epistle to the Hebrews requires closer
examination. In his treatise de pudic, after he had passed in review the
teaching of the Evangelists, the Acts of the Apostles, Paul and the other
Apostles, concluding with the Revelation and First Epistle of St. John,
Tertullian draws the argument to a close {de pud. 20) , and then adds, " I
wish however to subjoin in addition, redundantly, the testimony also of a
certain companion of the Apostles, which is well adapted for confirming,
by nearest right, the teaching of the masters " (volo tamen ex redundantia
alicuius etiam comitis apostolorum testimonium superducere idoneum con-
firmandi de proximo jure disciplinam magistrorum (Ed. Oehler). He then
introduces the Epistle to the Hebrews as the work of Barnabas for whom
Paul vouched, and adds, " and at all events the Epistle of Barnabas is
more received among the churches than that apocryphal Shepherd of
adulterers " (et utique receptior apud ecclesias epistola Barnabae illo
apocrypho Pastore moechorum). He then quotes Heb. vi., 4-8. There
are two questions raised by this passage : the first concerns Tertullian's
estimate of Hebrews, the second the comparative value of the Shepherd
and Hebrews. With regard to the first of these it is evident that the
Epistle to the Hebrews, according to Tertullian, was not in itself possessed
of divine authority. This appears from the formal conclusion of his
argument based on the Apostolic teaching {disciplina apostolorum proprie)
before he turns to it, from the express statements that he uses it only to
confirm the teaching of the Apostles and that it is excessive {ex redun
dantia), from the fact that he does not ascribe but rather denies aposto
licity to it, and that he never calls it " Scripture " (he uses titulus instead
or refers to it by name). The view, which Zahn thinks possible, {Gesch.
d. Neutest. Kanons, Vol. I, p. 291) that Tertullian himself placed a higher
estimate on the work than is here apparent, and did not cite it among the
writings of the New Testament only because it was not universally re
ceived, and therefore any argument drawn from it not universally valid,
while commending itself for several reasons is incapable of proof. Ac
cording to the evidence before us the Epistle to the Hebrews was outside
of Tertullian's canon, and enjoyed only that amount of favor which was

508 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
place to the Shepherd. In the first place it cannot be thought
that he accepted it without having some opinion of its author
ship ; for he denounces strongly all works that do not " bind
due to the writings of a man who was approved of St. Paul and God. But
what does Tertullian mean by saying that the Epistle to the Hebrews was
"more received among the churches" than was the Shepherd? Does
" receptior apud ecclesias " mean that it was more highly esteemed, or that
it was received as canonical by more churches? Ronsch understands it
to mean both {Op. cit., p. 565) ; Harnack to mean one or the other, he
does not say which {Patr. Apost. Op. Ill, p. xlix f., n. 1, c), but in
stating that the Shepherd seems to have had a place at the end of the New
Testament after the Epistle to the Hebrews {ibid., p. xlviii. f., n. 1 e)
he favors the former, and in another place {Texte und Untersuchungen
V, i., p. 59), the latter. Zahn holds firmly to the latter interpretation (Gesch,
d. neutest. Kanons, I, pp. 121, n. 292 f.) on the ground that "receptus"
is not capable of degrees, and of the presence of the plural "ecclesias".
So also Credner, Gesch, d. neutest. Kanons, p. 117. But neither of these
explanations is free from difficulty. By the first Tertullian is made to dis
agree with his other statement in this same treatise, that all the councils of
the church had declared the Shepherd " apocryphal and false ". To accuse
him of exaggerating in the latter remark (Harnack, Texte u. Untersuchun
gen, V, i., p. 59, Weiss, Einleitung in d. NT., 3rd ed. p. 74) is unwarranted,
and, as we shall see later these words may express literally a natural
interpretation of a Roman statement concerning the Shepherd. Zahn's
argument is unsatisfactory because it does violence to the Latin. Had
Tertullian wished to say that the Epistle to the Hebrews was received
by more churches than the Shepherd we should expect " receptus apud
plures ecclesias" It seems to be true that "receptus" was used as
terminus technicus to denote the inclusion of a work among the canonical
books, and that in this sense it was incapable of degree. But the word
was not used exclusively in this connection, and when not it could be
compared (see instances in Zahn loc. cit.). It is in this latter sense that
the word is used in the passage before us. The discussion is not about
canonical works, but about two, both of which Tertullian definitely ex
cludes from the Scriptures. With this in mind the argument in this
chapter of de pudicitia is both clear and consistent with other parts of the
treatise. I have now, says Tertullian in effect, concluded my argument
from the New Testament Scriptures, but I wish to add the testimony of
one other, which may not be used in the argument proper but is of value
in confirming the teaching of the Apostles, for its author was their com
rade. I refer to an Epistle of Barnabas, a man commended by God and the
Apostle Paul. And though he is not an authority, you must at least ac
knowledge that his Epistle is recognized as of more value by the churches
than that apocryphal Shepherd of adulterers which has been condemned
by all the councils of the churches.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 509
themselves by full title and due profession of author ",43 And
it is equally clear that he received only such works as were of
apostolic origin, that is to say, composed either by Apostles or
apostolic men.44 We would therefore conclude that Tertullian
regarded Hermas as a disciple of the Apostles. But if this be
so the question immediately thrusts itself upon us, why does he
not use the Shepherd more frequently in his writings ? To this
no certain answer can be given, though it may be pointed out
that Paul's Epistles to Titus and Philemon, the First Epistle of
Peter and that of Jude, although undoubtedly belonging to
Tertullian's canon, are referred to no more frequently or
hardly so than is the Shepherd.
But this view, although held in slightly differing forms by
many scholars, appears to me to be wrong from beginning to
end. When the Christians of North Africa, in defence of
their superstitious practices of laying aside their cloaks before
prayer and of sitting down after it, appealed to the state
ments that Paul had left his cloak behind him at Troas (pre
sumably having laid it aside at prayer) and that Hermas had
sat down on his bed after prayer, the answer that sprang to
Tertullian's lips, as it would to those of any other sensible
Christian, was that such a use of Scripture was childish, silly,
superstitious, and incapable of being indulged without en
tailing ridiculous results. More was unnecessary. To argue
the question of the authority or canonicity of the Shepherd
would not have been to the point. On the contrary it would
have weakened the argument, as it might be taken to imply
that had the Shepherd been authoritative, such a use of it
would have been justified. Tertullian here as elsewhere sees
the main issue clearly and sticks to it. And yet he has not
left us without at least a hint of his estimate of Hermas and
his book. He introduces them with the words " that Hermas
whose scripture is generally called the Shepherd ".iS This is
"Marc. IV, 2.
44 To Tertullian apostolic men {apostolici) were those who had associated
with and learned from the Apostles, Marc. IV, 2; Praescr. 32. Cf. also
Praescr. 21 ff. ; 30 ; 44 ; and what he says against works of post-apostolic
date, Praescr. 30.
43 Quid enim, si Hermas ille cuius scriptura fere Pastor inscribitur, etc.
De orat. 16.

5i°

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

not the way one introduces a well known and acknowledgedly
canonical book. The demonstrative " that " pointing to Her
mas with quite particular emphasis is hard to account for un
less we find in it, as several scholars do,46 the note of con
tempt. The words " that Hermas " find their parallel in " that
Shepherd of adulterers ", and the delicate sarcasm of the words
" whose (i. e., Hermas') scripture " is perceived at once when
they are put beside those others, which we have heard Tertul
lian using elsewhere in discussing the Shepherd, " but I quaff
the scriptures of that Shepherd who cannot be broken ".47
We are compelled therefore to the conclusion that, though
some of his countrymen estimated the Shepherd very highly, —
exactly how highly we cannot say for lack of evidence, — Ter
tullian at no period of his life of which we have any knowl
edge shared their views. He despised it.
In Alexandria Clement knew the Shepherd and was fond
of it. He quotes it freely and shows beyond possibility of
doubt that he believed it to contain a genuine revelation. He
speaks of " the Shepherd, the Angel of Repentance " that
spoke to Hermas,48 of the " Power that spoke divinely to
Hermas by revelation " 49 or " the Power that appeared to
Hermas in the vision in the form of the Church " ;50 more
frequently he cites it simply as the " Shepherd ".51 He ap
peals to it as proof of Christian teaching associating it with
the books of our Bible, he even interprets one passage alle
gorically.52 And yet in spite of all this there are few who
venture to affirm that Clement puts the Shepherd on a par with
the Gospels and writings of the Apostles. It is noted that he
never calls Hermas an Apostle as he does Barnabas and Clem-
48 So Credner, Gesch. d. neutest. Kanons, p. 117; Oehler, Tertull. op.
Vol. I, p. 567, not. c; Gregory, Canon and Text of the NT., p. 242.
47 See note 41. "Strom, i., 17, 85. "9 Strom, i., 29, 181.
80 Strom, vi., 15, 131, cf. Strom, ii., 1, 3.
81 The passages have been gathered by Harnack, Gesch. d. altchristl. Lit.,
I- i-, P- S3-
62 Harnack (Gesch. d. altchristl. Lit., I. i., p. 53). Kutter, (Clemens
Alexandrinus und das Neue Testament, p. 86) would weaken the force of
this, by showing what Clement does is to interpret allegorically an act
of Hermas. But in any case Clement is dealing with a passage out of the
Shepherd.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

5"

ent of Rome, that he does not cite his book as " Scripture " as
he does for example the Teaching of the Twelve Apostles.53
It is pointed out that he regarded Greek Philosophy and the
oracles of the Sybil as in a sense divine.54 And the testimony
of Eusebius is called to show that in the Hypotyposes in which
he commented upon all the books of the canonical Scriptures
not omitting the disputed books, which are more nearly de
fined as Jude, the other Catholic Epistles, Barnabas and the
Apocalpse of Peter, the Shepherd of Hermas is not in
cluded.55 It has been argued too that, as the final authority
for Clement was the Lord and his Apostles56 and as the
apostolic time ended for him in the days of Nero,57 he could
not have regarded a work, which he must have known to be of
later origin, as on a par with the writings of the Apostles.58
It does not come within the scope of our investigation to in
quire more definitely into the merits of these views. Our pur
pose is accomplished when we have ascertained that Clement
as a matter of fact did regard the Shepherd as at least con
taining a divine revelation ; though it is not unimportant to note
that of all the Christian writings appealed to by Clement as
83 Kutter, Clemens Alex. u. d. Neue Test., p. 139 f. On the use oiypadj-b.
in a broad sense and the extension of the term apostolic to include the
later years of John's life and also Clement of Rome and Barnabas, ibid.,
pp. 130, 136.
54 Strom, vi., 5, 43. cf. Protr. vi. 72; viii, yy, et al. See Eickhoff, Das
Neue Testament des Clem. Alex. p. 7. Kutter, op. cit. 140 f.
55 Eusebius, HE. vi., 14. Photius' statement (Bibl. cod. 109) that the
Hypotyposes covered only Genesis, Exodus, the Psalms, the Pauline Epis
tles, the Catholic Epistles and Ecclesiastes, cannot stand in the face of
Eusebius' explicit reference to the Apocalypse of Peter. Nor is the omis
sion of the Shepherd acounted for by saying that Eusebius has probably
omitted it through accident (Harnack, Gesch. d. altchristl. Lit. I. i., p. 53)
or that Clement did not comment on it because of its length (Zahn, Gesch.
d. neutest. Kanons, i., p. 330). Nor does Eusebius' failure to mention the
Shepherd among the works used by Clement (HE. vi., 13) destroy the
argument. "Strom, i., 1, 11. " Strom, vii., 17, 106.
38 Kutter, op. cit., pp. 108, 128 ff., 139 f., cf. Kunze, Glaubensregel etc.,
pp. 40, 138. But it is by no means sure that Qement was as well informed
of the origin of the Shepherd as was the author of the Muratori Fragment,
as Kutter assumes.

5i2 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
authoritative, this is the only one for which apostolical origin
was not claimed in one way or another; and the difficulties
which arise in connection with his use of the Shepherd would
be to a large extent removed, and his procedure shown to be
consistent with his own principles, if we might assume that
for which there is nothing pro or contra in his writings,
namely, that he thought this book to be the product of the
golden age of the Apostles.
Origen, the successor of Clement in Alexandria, regards
the Shepherd as " very useful and divinely inspired ",59 and
frequently adduced proof from it as from any other Scrip
ture. But he also informs us that the book was not univer
sally received but even despised by some.60 From him also
we have a definite statement concerning the authorship and
date of the Shepherd, namely that it was written by the Her
mas to whom the Apostle Paul sends greetings in his Epistle to
the Romans ;61 that is to say he refers it to apostolic times, the
period which produced all the other canonical books.62 Nor
can we doubt that the opinion of Origen with respect to the
authorship of the Shepherd was shared by a large proportion
of the Alexandrian church.63
Among the Roman writers of this period we find no such
high respect for the Shepherd as we have found in Alex
andria. Hippolytus especially, than whom none was better ac-
B" Valde mihi utilis videtur et ut puto divinitus inspirata. In Rom.
(xvi. 14), com. x. 31.
"xaraippovobpevos, De princip. iv. 11 ; cf. In Psalm. Selecta, horn. i. in
Psalm. 37; In Ezech. xxviii. 13, horn. xiii. These and other references in
Harnack, Gesch. d. altchristl. Lit., I. i., pp. 53 ff.
61 In Rom. xvi. 14, com. x. 31, " Puto tamen, quod Hermas iste sit scriptor
libelli illius qui Pastor appellatur "
62 Cf. Origen in Euseb. HE. vi., 25, 12 f.
83 See Zahn, Gesch. d. neutest. Kanons, i., pp. 330 ff, where he retracts
his earlier statements. Harnack (Patr. apost. op. iii., p. Ivii) would have
us believe that Origen is expressing only his own opinion when he ascribes
the Shepherd to the Hermas of Rom. xvi. 14. It may be true, as he asserts,
that Origen does not claim to have any traditional basis for this opinion
and never calls Hermas virum apostolicum, but it is hard to believe that
a man of such scholarly methods as Origen was should make such a state
ment without basis for it.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 513
quainted with the affairs of the Roman Church, and who had
plenty of opportunities to use it, does not once mention by
name, or quote from, the work.64 And yet there is asserted
to be reason for believing that here too the book was regarded
as inspired and authoritative and on a par with other canonical
writings. I shall briefly review what evidence there is. (1)
Tertullian, in a passage already referred to, has in mind that
the Shepherd is opposed to his montanistic views and defends
himself against its teachings. " But I would yield to you ",
he says, " if the Scripture called the Shepherd, which alone
loves adulterers, were worthy of a place in the divine instru
ment, — if it had not been adjudged among the apocryphal and
false writings by every council of the churches even your
own ".65 As Tertullian throughout this treatise has the bishop
of Rome in mind, the Pontifex Maximus as he sarcastically
calls him in the initial chapter, it has been inferred that the
Roman had appealed to the Shepherd in defence of his laxer
administration of discipline.66 The inference is possible but
but by no means necessary. Tertullian had to defend himself
not only from the actual arguments of the past but also from
the possible ones of the future, against attacks not only from
Rome but also from nearer home, where as we have seen the
Shepherd was in high repute. The words " your churches "
refer of course to the Catholic churches, not to those of any
particular locality.67 (2) The next witness is the so-called
Liberian Catalogue of the bishops of Rome, which has the fol
lowing note under the name Pius : " During his episcopate his
brother Hermes wrote the book in which is contained the com
mand which the angel enjoined upon him when he came to him
in the garb of a shepherd ".68 This catalogue in its completed
"Bonwetsch, Zu den Komm. Hippolyts. Texte u. Untersuchungen
N. F. Vol. i., 2, p. 26, finds a couple of resemblances.
85 De pudic. 10. " Sed cederem tibi si scriptura Pastoris qui sola moechos
amat divino instrumento meruisset incidi, si non ab omni concilio eccle-
siarum etiam vestrarum inter apocrypha et falsa iudicaretur ".
88 So Harnack, Gesch. d. altchristl. Lit., I. i, 52, and others.
8T According to Harnack, Tertullian could not be referring to Roman or
Italian councils (Texte u. Untersuch. V. i., p. 59)-
88 "Sub hujus episcopatu f rater ejus Hermes librum scripsit in quo

5H

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

form belongs to the middle of the fourth century and therefore
lies outside the period of our investigation; but there is good
reason for supposing that the earlier part of it, down to 231
A.D., was composed a century or more earlier and is from the
pen of Hippolytus himself.69 But even the earlier part did not
leave the hand of Hippolytus in its present form. Some later
editor or continuator added chronological synchronisms at least
(the names of contemporary consuls, Emperors, &c. ), and
perhaps also this and one other note (concerning the death of
the Apostle Peter). According to the table of contents ap
pended to one of the recensions of Hippolytus' Chronica we
should find in it Nomina episcoporum Romae et quis quot annis
praefuit.'70 The natural inference is that all except the names
and the number of years was added later. Still, while express
ing doubt on the matter both Lightfoot and Harnack think it
probable that the notice concerning Hermas was in the original
work, the former because it " seems intended to discredit the
pretensions of that work to a place in the canon and therefore
would probably be written at a time when such pretensions
were still more or less seriously entertained ", the motive being
" the same as with the author of the Muratorian Canon who
has a precisely similar note ",71 the latter because " just at Hip
polytus' time the Shepherd was excluded from the sacred col
lection in many churches and this notice apparently has refer
ence to the controversy [involved]".72 It is true that the
Liberian Catalogue agrees with the Muratori Fragment in as
cribing the Shepherd to a certain Hermas (or Hermes), the
brother of Pius, but it is equally important to note that it de
finitely asserts that it is a genuine revelation, which the Mura
tori Fragment does not; and it is highly improbable that Hip-
poltyus, had he entertained this view of the work, would have
made no mention of, or citation from, it in his other works.
mandatum continetur quod ei praecepit angelus cum venit ad ilium in
habitu pastoris."
69 See discussion in Lightfoot, Apostol. Fathers, I. i., pp. 253 ff. and
a summary of results in Harnack, Gesch. d. altchristl. Lit., II. i., pp.
144 ff-
"Lightfoot, Loc. cit., p. 260. 71 Ibid., p. 261 f.
72 Harnack, Loc. cit., p. 150.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 515
Moreover, if the purpose of the author of this notice was to
contribute something toward the settlement of the controversy
concerning the canonicity of the book, he chose a very inap
propriate method. The statement that the book dates from the
days of Pius does indeed implicitly deny apostolicity to the
work, but the affirmation of its prophetic character definitely
asserts its inspiration.73 74
73 The singular mandatum also is suspicious. Mandata (pi.) might by a
stretch be made to cover the whole book, but not its singular. The ques
tion rises what is meant thereby. The explanation of Zahn (Hirt des
Hermas, p. 25 f.) would solve the problem. In a letter of Pseudo-Pius
dealing with the Quarto-decimanian controversy and therefore dating
probably from early in the 4th cent., the writer appeals to a command
given to Hermas by the angel that appeared to him in the garb of a
shepherd, to the effect that the Pascha should be celebrated on the Lord's
day (" eidem Hermae angelus domini in habitu pastoris apparuit et praece-
pit ei ut pascha die dominica ab omnibus celebaretur "). Zahn thinks this
is the command referred to in the Liberian Cat. in which case the notice
there contained must not only be from the fourth cent., but also have no
reference to our work for it contains no such command. See also Harnack,
Gesch. d. altchristl. Lit. I, i., p. 56, who finds Zahn's explanation " very
improbable ".
74 For the sake of completeness we must say a word about the puzzling
Pseudocyprianic tract known as de aleatoribus. This work might be
ignored here were it not that Prof. Harnack (Texte und Untersuchungen,
Vol. v.) some years ago endeavored to show that it is from the pen of
the Bishop Victor of Rome. This view has not found much favor with
scholars and recently Prof. Harnack himself does not seem1 so desirous
of maintaining it (Gesch. d. altchristl. Lit., i. 52, 719. Cf. Herzog, Real
encycl. 3rd ed. vol. iv., p. 347; xx., p. 602). It has, however, been taken up
by Leipoldt in his Entstehung des neutestamentlichen Kanons, and part of
Harnack's argument made the basis of much of this work. In this tract
the Shepherd is quoted once fairly literally, once loosely, and several pas
sages seem to reflect the words and thoughts of Hermas. In no case is the
Shepherd or its author mentioned by name. In the case of the first quo
tation (cap. 2) the introductory words are dicit enim scriptura divina
and the quotation is coupled with a passage from Sirach and one from an
unknown source [" dicit enim scriptura divina (quotation from Sim. ix.
13, S), et alia scriptura dicit (Sirach xxxii., (xxxv. 1), et iterum (an
unknown passage)"]. In the second case (cap. 4) the author evidently
thinks he is quoting St. Paul, [" apostulus idem Paulus commemorat . . .
dicens (several passages from the Epp. to Timothy being combined),
iterum (1 Cor. v. 11), et alio loco (apparently from Mand. iv. 1, 9) in
doctrinis apostolorum est (a quotation from an unknown source, possibly

516 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
We may pause here for a moment to review our examina
tion to this point. There is no evidence that, during the first
thirty or forty years of its existence, the Shepherd occupied
any preeminent position in the church. There are signs that it
was known and used, but there is not the slightest reason for
thinking that it was regarded as an apocalypse, as authoritative,
or in any sense on a par with the Scriptures of the Old Testa
ment. On the contrary, there is good reason for the opinion
that no one, orthodox or heretical, was concerned to make or
maintain any such claims for it. After that period a higher
estimate of it appears in some sections. In Gaul it is quoted by
one great teacher as " Scripture ", but in such a way as to
dependent on the Didache)"]. Our hesitancy, in the face of this, to re
ceive this author as a first-class witness to the canonical authority of the
Shepherd is increased when we take into account his very loose manner
of quoting, the fact that several of his quotations cannot be identified,
and also that all the Old Testament passages he cites are to be found in
Cyprian's de Lapsis or Testimonia.
We are not concerned except indirectly with the general question of
his forms of citation and the argument that is built upon them in the dis
cussion of the history of the canon of the New Testament; but I cannot
refrain from remarking that when Prof. Harnack lays down, as the basis
of further argument, the dictum that the author (of de aleatoribus) "fol
lows a quite definite and strongly consistent method of citation " (" eine
gans bestimmte und streng festgehaltene Citationsweise befolgt," loc. cit.,
p. 56) he seriously weakens his own argument by assuming that the author
had two forms of citation, dicit scriptura divina and dicit dominus, that
were apparently of equal value (augenscheinlich gleichwerthig) . Nor
should he say in another place (Das neue Testament um 200, p. 36) that
according to de aleatoribus " the Old Testament and the Apocalypses of
Hermas and John belong to the scripturae divinae but not so the Gospels
and Epistles." Nor should Leipoldt follow him by saying (loc. cit., p. 37)
that " this writing (de aleatoribus) regards apparently only two books
outside of the Old Testament as Holy Scripture in this strict sense of the
term " As a matter of fact the Old Testament is never cited as scriptura
divina in de aleatoribus, the passage from Sirach alone excepted, nor is the
Apocalypse of John, which is introduced by the words dominus occurrit
et dicit (cap. 8). To say, as Leipoldt does (loc. cit.) that this is apparent
ly accidental is to confess that the whole argument is unfounded. It has
escaped the notice of these writers that another and simpler, and consist
ent principle may be found for the author's method of citation, namely, that
in all passages, whether from the Old or the New Testament, from the
Gospels or Apocalypse, in which, in the Scriptures, the Lord is repre-

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 517
leave us in doubt whether he really regarded it as Scripture in
the strict sense of the word. In Africa the common people
esteemed it highly, but their scholarly leader Tertullian des
pised it. In Alexandria it fared better. Both Clement and
Origen regarded it as a real revelation, the former for reasons
not clear to us, the latter ascribing it to the Apostolic age.
From Rome, where it was produced and where it presumably
was best known, comes exceedingly little evidence. Not a
single author can be proved to have regarded it as divine or
authoritative, but neither do we find any condemnation of it.
This cannot be the record of a work which was originally pub
lished as a divine revelation, accepted as such by the leaders of
the church, and drawn upon by them in matters of faith and
practice. It is rather the story of a book that began its career
in a humbler fashion, that found its way to the hearts of the
common people first, that was then occasionally dimly reflected
in the words of some writer or other, and that then here and
there, especially far from its native place, and where a wrong
opinion of its origin was current, came to be regarded as divine.
But we have still one piece of evidence to consider, perhaps
the most important of all, and we shall turn to it now.
The so-called Muratori Fragment,75 it is generally conceded,
sented as speaking the introductory formula is dominus dicit. In the one
occasion where the words quoted are not immediately ascribed to God in
the Scriptures, the introductory phrase is enlarged by the addition of per
prophetam (cap. 10, quoting Eli's words in 1 Sam;, ii. 25). When the
quotation is from the Gospels the addition in evangelio is found three times
(cap. 3, 10) and in the only other formal quotation from them, both domi
nus and in evangelio are lacking (cap 2). The subject could be mentally
supplied ; and in evangelio was apparently not regarded as necessary. When
the quotation is from the Epistles either the name of the apostle (Paul,
cap. 3, 4, John, cap. 10), or the title apostolus without name (cap. 4, 10) is
found with dicit (dicens). When the authority of the apostolic college
is cited the formula is in doctrinis Apostolorum (cap. 4). In all other
cases the general term Scriptura is used (cap. 2). The author has given
us no passage from the Acts of the Apostles or from narrative portions of
the Bible, and so we cannot say how he would have introduced them.
75 The text may be found in an appendix to Westcott's Canon of the New
Testament, also in Zahn, Grundriss der Gesch. d. neutest. Kanons, p. 75,
Harnack, Zeitschrift fur Kirchengeschichte, Vol. v., p. 595, and elsewhere.
An English translation is given in The Ante-Nicene Fathers, Vol. v., p.

518 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
comes from about the end of the second century and reflects the
opinion of the Roman or Italian church. It contains an incom
plete list of the books received into or rejected from the New
Testament Scriptures, with notes on the same. Toward the
end of the list is found the following paragraph : " Of ap
ocalypses also we receive only those of John and Peter which
(latter) some among us will not have read in the church. But
the Shepherd was written by Hermas, very recently, in our own
times, when his brother Pius the bishop was sitting in the
episcopal chair of the church of the city of Rome, and therefore
it ought indeed to be read, but it cannot be publicly read to the
people in church, either among the Prophets whose number is
complete, or among the Apostles to the end of time." 76 Such
a statement as this would not be found in this place unless
canonicity had been claimed for the Shepherd. It is natural
too to infer that such claims had been made within that particu
lar church from which the Fragment emanates. But this is not
necessary. The writers had in mind not their own community
only, but also the whole Catholic Church,77 and therefore had
to take cognizance of works for which claims were made by
outsiders. From whatever quarter these claims may have come,
however, the Fragment leaves us in no doubt about certain pre
tensions which were made for the Shepherd, and which were
doubtless urged in favor of its canonicity. These were two in
603. This is not the place to discuss the date and source of this unique
document. I shall assume that it comes from Rome or at least represents
the Roman tradition. Also when the plural number is used to denote
the authors, I am only following a hint contained in the Fragment itself,
(" recipimus"), without affirming anything of the authorship.
78 LI. 71-79. "Apocalypse etiam iohanis et pe|tri tantum recipimus quam
quidam ex nos|tris legi in eclesia nolunt pastorem uero | nuperrim e tem-
poribus nostris in urbe | roma herma conscripsit sedente cathe[tra urbis
romae aeclesiae pio eps fratre | eius et ideo legi eum quide oportet se
pu|plicare vero in eclesia populo neque inter | profetas completum numero
neque inter \ apostolos in fine temporum potest ". In corrected Latin :
" Apocalypses etiam Johannis et Petri tantum recipimus, quam quidam ex
nostris in urbe Roma Hermas conscripsit sedente cathedra urbis Romae
ecclesiae Pio episcopo fratre ejus; et ideo legi eum quidem oportet, se
publicare vero in ecclesia populo, neque inter prophetas completo numero,
neque inter apostolos in finem temporum potest ".
77 Frag., 1. 66, cf. 69.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 519
number. The first was that the Shepherd dates from apostolic
times. This is evident from the way the Fragment heaps up
clauses to disprove such an early origin.78 It was written, it
says, " very recently ", " in our own times ", " when Pius was
bishop of Rome ", by the brother of this same Pius and this is
given as the ground (et ideo) for its exclusion from the Canon.
The second argument was that the Shepherd was an apo
calypse. This is evident enough from its being classed with
the Apocalypses of John and Peter. What is the attitude of
the Fragment toward this? In the first place, it cannot be
urged that the parallelism " we receive only .... but " shows
the writers' own view vis. that the Shepherd too is in an apoca
lypse. The only necessary inference is that the work was com
monly or sometimes ranked as an apocalypse. Again, it may be
asked, whether in asserting the late date of the book the Frag
ment does not mean to imply that it is not apocalyptic. No
definite answer can be given to this, but the indications are that
it does. Elsewhere79 the Fragment is pronouncedly anti-mon-
tanistic, and it is hard to believe that its authors could have
thought of revelations as late as the time of Pius.80 But there
is still another indication that this is really the view of the
Fragment. The last lines of our paragraph read, " it cannot be
publicly read .... either among the Prophets whose number
is complete or among the Apostles till the end of time."
" Prophets " and " Apostles " here, as elsewhere in the litera
ture of this period, are doubtless equivalent to the Old and New
Testaments. But there seems to be an especial appropriateness
in the use of the terms here. Out of several designations of the
Scriptures at their disposal, all current at the time, the authors
of the Fragment have chosen two which had reference to the
two arguments advanced in favor of the Shepherd by their
opponents. That this is so, that the use of these words is not
perfunctory, is shown too by the insertion of the phrase "whose
number is complete " after " prophets ". This phrase indeed
78 So too Zahn (Gesch. d. neutest. Kanons, i., p. 340) who however does
not regard the Fragment as well informed concerning the date of the
Shepherd, but thinks its author was driven to exaggeration by the zeal of
the advocates of an early date.
™L. 84. mZahn, op. cit., ii., p. 116.

520

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

amplifies and completes the argument against the reception of
the Shepherd, begun in the assertion of its late date. The
Fragment therefore says in effect, that the Shepherd cannot be
classed with the Apostles for it is of later date, nor with the
Prophets for their number is complete, that is Hermas was not
a prophet nor his work a revelation.81
Taking this then as the view of the authors, and remember
ing the historical situation, this little section of the Muratori
Fragment, so puzzling to commentators, becomes a well con
ceived and carefully guarded statement. The problem was
this : Here was a work forty or fifty years old, which had been
popular and useful in the church. On account of its apocalyptic
form and the apostolic name of its author it was held by some
to be divinely inspired and equal to the canonical Scriptures.
The authors of the Fragment knew better. They knew by
whom it was written and when, and that it was not a revelation.
They had to remove the misunderstanding that was abroad
concerning the work, but they had to do so warily or create an
opinion of the Shepherd as incorrect as the one they would de
stroy. They dared not say for instance " we do not receive it",
a phrase which is used of other books.82 Of course in one sense
the Shepherd is rejected.83 It is not recognized as part of the
canonical Scriptures. But all the works of which " not re
ceived " is said (apocryphal letters of Paul and the writings of
Arsinous and others), are not only rejected from the Canon but
positively stigmatized as evil ; as the Fragment says, " gall
should not be mixed with honey. "84 This phrase could not
therefore be used of the Shepherd without -giving rise to the im
pression that it was " gall ", and so the authors avoid it.
Again, let us put ourselves for a moment mentally in the posi
tion of those who believed Hermas to be the friend of Paul to
whom he sent greetings, and the Shepherd to be the record of
81 Similarly, Leipoldt, op. cit., p. 48 ; Hesse, Das muratorische Fragment
p. 270 f. ; Credner, Gesch. d. neutest. Kanons, p. 117, whose statements
however are not in full harmony, cf. p. 165 ; Overbeck, Zur Gesch. des
Kanons, pp. 100, 105, and others.
82 LI. 63 ff.; 81 ff.
83 This is involved in " tantum . vero ".
84 L. 6y.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 521
divine revelations which had been vouchsafed to him. What
would be our first thought, were we informed that the book was
written a hundred years after we had supposed, and was not a
revelation ? We would say at once : then the book lies about
its origin and its contents, it is apocryphal and false. These
are exactly the words Tertullian, as we have seen, used to de
scribe the declaration of some councils of the churches concern
ing the Shepherd, and it seems more than probable that just
such a statement as the one before us was in his mind.85
Whether, however, Tertullian is guilty of this or not, such a
false inference had to be guarded against, and it is for this
purpose that the authors of the Fragment after the assertion of
the Shepherd's late date hasten to add " therefore it ought to be
read. " Commentators have been puzzled by the " therefore "
here. One, who otherwise has excellently understood the situa
tion, is driven -to the extremity of saying that the work was
ordered to be read because it was written by the brother of a
bishop.86 But the matter is clear when seen in its proper set
ting. The writers have in view those who would be inclined to
go from the extreme of admiration to that of denunciation.
To these they say : " the Shepherd is not what you think it is,
but you must not condemn it because you have made a mistake ;
it is a good book and therefore it ought to be read." But after
all the main thing in the writers' minds is to ensure the exclu
sion of the Shepherd from the Scriptures, and so, after having
qualified its rejection in this way, they conclude strongly (the
"therefore" being still in force): "but it cannot be read
publicly in the church to the people either among the Prophets
whose number is complete or among the Apostles to the end of
time ; " that is to say, it is to be ranked with neither the Old nor
the New Testament.
The correctness of this interpretation will be more apparent
85 Similarly Credner, Gesch. d. neutest. Kanons, p. 117. An interesting
parallel to Tertullian's statement is found in Zahn, Gesch. d. neutest.
Kanons, ii., p. 113, '' wer das Buch trotz des Namens Clemens (vis. ii. 4)
und vieler anderer Anzeichen fiir ein Werk aus der Zeit um 145 hielt,
musste es fiir eine pseudepigraphe Fiction halten". Cf. also p. 118 and
vol. i., p. 342.
86 Hesse, op. cit., pp. 268 ff.

522

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

when we see how others are involved with difficulties. I will
take for examples those of Professors Zahn and Harnack, who
approach the matter from different standpoints. Professor
Zahn,87 who has little respect for the judgment of the author of
the Fragment, explains the injunction to read the Shepherd as
follows. The Fragmentist believed that the Shepherd had been
published as an apocalypse but was himself of the opinion that
it was not such, and was not kindly disposed toward it. But
because it could not be charged with heresy, or intentional
falsehood, or because it had been found valuable in the church,
or perhaps by way of concession to the opposite party, — we
cannot be sure of his motives,' — he retained the work in a minor
position, as a sort of deutero-canonical work, and ordered it to
be read, only providing that it shall not be read in the public
services of the church along with the Old and New Testament.
But such an interpretation is possible only to one who holds as
low an opinion of the author or authors of the Fragment as
Prof. Zahn does. In several respects it is out of accord with
the statements of the Fragment, and what we know from other
sources about this time. Elsewhere the Fragment is straight
forward, honest, and, we may add, definite in its statements
concerning the rejection or acceptance of writings. When
there is a difference of opinion in the church regarding a work,
as in the case of the Apocalypse of Peter, the fact is recorded
without comment or attempted compromise. It is hardly think
able therefore that the author or authors would admit even to
a secondary place a work which they believed laid claim to in
spiration falsely. Moreover, there is no sign in the Fragment
or in the other literature of this time of any deutero-canonical
books,88 and later when there were, only such works were in
volved as were of obscure origin. For the authors of the
Fragment the origin of the Shepherd was not doubtful.
Professor Harnack89 thinks that the author of the Fragment,
in agreement with the church generally, regarded the Shepherd
as a genuine prophecy; that the eloquent silence of the author
"Gesch. d. neutest. Kanons, vol. i., pp. 342 ff., vol. ii., pp. 111-118; in
Herzog, Realencycl. 3rd ed. vol. ix., pp. 778 f.
88 Harnack emphasizes this, Zeitschrift fiir Kirchengeschichte, iii. p. 399.
mIbid., pp. 369 ff.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 523
concerning Christian prophetic writings in their relation to the
authoritative church collection is very significant ; that the time
was past when prophecy just because it was prophecy could be
accounted canonical ; other conditions were now prerequisite to
reception into the sacred collection ; that it was necessary there
fore for the Fragmentist to create a new category for Christ
ian prophetical books, and that he did this by making it the
duty of Christians to read them privately, that is, not in the
public church services. But how inconsistent that is with itself
and with what Prof. Harnack says elsewhere in the same
article ! How can the Fragment be " eloquently silent concern
ing the relation of the prophetical writings to the authoritative
church collection " and at the same time " create for them a
special category " ? And how does the creation of a special
category differ from the erection of a deutero-canon, of which
Prof. Harnack tells us there is no sign at this time in the Frag
ment or elsewhere? Or, looking at the larger question, is it
possible that works which a few years before had occupied a
position second to none among the Christian writings, should
within one generation be relegated to at least comparative ob
scurity?90 But quite apart from these considerations Har-
nack's interpretation is wrecked on the fact that the Muratori
Fragment has not one word to say about Christian prophetical
writings as a class being read. All other so-called Apocalypses
are definitely excluded by the " only " of line 72 ; the Shepherd
alone is separated from them and made the subject of special
remark. There is not a shadow of justification for the state
ment that the contents of this remark were applicable to any
other writings or class of writings.
When, therefore, we find these scholars, differing as they
do in their attitude toward the history of the Canon and in
their estimate and interpretation of the Muratori Fragment,
both alike involved in difficulties and inconsistencies through
the assumption that the Shepherd was published, and for long
regarded, as an apocalypse, we come back with the more con-
80 Harnack himself (ibid., p. 405) acknowledges the "ausserordentlich
raschen Verlauf des Prozesses. Cf. the criticism by Overbeck, op. cit.,
P- 75 f-

524

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

fidence to the interpretation of this passage to which we were
led by our investigation of the historical background. What
the authors of Muratori Fragment say here is in effect : " We
know in detail the history of the origin of the Shepherd of
Hermas and can assure the church that it never was intended
to be taken as an apocalypse; those who have so regarded it
have been mistaken; it is a good book and ought to be read,
but it is not part of the Scriptures." In other words, what the
Muratori Fragment does, is not to take away the authority
which had universally been conceded to the Shepherd at one
time, but to check a growing tendency to regard it as canonical.
When we turn to the Shepherd of Hermas itself, the first
thing that engages our attention is that the work is in the
form of a revelation, then that there is a certain correspon
dence between it and the other apocalyptic and cryptic literature
of the time. Divine messengers as mediators, visions as the
mediums of the revelations, prayer and fasting as suitable
means of preparation, the dialogue form, are common fea
tures. Moreover, some of the incidents in the Shepherd are
strikingly similar to those in the apocalypses, for instance,
the command to write down the revelations, the appearance
of the saints of God in the form of sheep, the mention of
angels' names, the church in the form of a woman ; and finally
as Hermas quotes from one of the apocalypses — the lost book
of Eldad and Modat — there can be no reasonable doubt that
he was acquainted with, and influenced by this sort of literature
in the production of his own work.
More recently the attempt has been made to connect the
Shepherd of Hermas with the Hermetic literature of Egypt.
Reitzenstein91 would have us believe that not only is the name
81 Reitzenstein, Poimandres, pp. n ff., 32 f. C. Taylor (Jour, of Phil
ology, xxviii., p. 37) finds " an intricate and artificial correspondence "
between the Shepherd and the Tabula Cebetis which he can account for
only " on the hypothesis that Hermas used the Tabula with necessary
variations as material for his Christian allegory." Taylor has done good
service in pointing out the intentional enigmatic character of the Shepherd,
but his conclusions, both in the article referred to and in his Hermas and
the Four Gospels are too far fetched always to command respect. See the
criticism by St. John Stock in Journ. of Phil., xxviii.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 525
" Hermas " connected with Hermes Trismegistus and the title
" Shepherd " with Poimander, and the Arcadia in the Shepherd
with the belief that this was the home of Hermes, but also,
from a striking parallel between the fourth vision of Hermas
and the introduction to the Poimander, concludes that the
author of the former had the other work before him, though
in a form somewhat different from that which has come down
to us.
But if the Shepherd is undoubtedly similar to the apocal
ypses in form, it is just as certainly different from them in
every other respect.92 The best proof of this is a perusal of
the works themselves. The other Jewish and Christian so-
called apocalypses belong to an entirely different world of
ideas. The intellectual background, the purpose of writing, the
attitude toward the past, the present, the future, the object
of writing, the centre of interest — in all these matters the
Shepherd goes its own way. The eschatological interest which
dominates the other apocalypses is almost entirely lacking. We
learn that the future world is summer to the righteous and
winter to sinners,93 that for some there is no hope but even a
double penalty, even eternal death,94 that the Church at last
shall be utterly pure from spot and blemish,95 that the build
ing of the tower has been stopped for a little to allow some to
repent,96 that the Master is now away but may return at any
moment,97 but beyond such general statements the writer does
not go. Not that the church and present conditions are iso
lated from the past and present — the Shepherd knows that
God who made all things of nothing has created the heaven
and the earth, and all things for his Church.98 But he does
not pry into these matters nor do they ever occupy the cen
tral place in his thought. In general he is content with the
knowledge that God is back of all. Nor of the secrecy which
is such a prominent feature of the Jewish apocalypses is there
82 See Zahn, Der Hirt des Hermas, p. 366 ff. where earlier literature is
noted. Hilgenfeld, Die apostolischen Vdter, p. 158. Hennecke, Neutesta-
mentliche Apokryphen, pp. 16,* 208. Donaldson, The Apostolical Fathers,
p. 336 f. Kruger, Hist, of early Christian Literature, Engl, trans., p. 42.
83 Sim. iv. M Sim, ix. 18. m Ibid.
"' Sim. ix. 14. 97 Sim. v. S, ix. 5, 7. w Vis. i. 3.

526 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
any trace. On the contrary there is hardly a paragraph, cer
tainly not a section, which does not contain an injunction to
Hermas to publish what he has heard to all the saints or a
statement that the promises made to him hold good for all
others as well. The Shepherd is the only so-called apocalypse
which does not take refuge in a fictitious claim to antiquity,
and put forward one of the prophets or heroes of the past as
author. The writer " comes forward unabashed as the bearer
of a presently given message for his contemporaries ". Some
writers have thought the contrary but their evidence is not
drawn from the work itself.90 As little is there any wish to pry
into the mysteries of the other world. Angels and other heav
enly beings are mentioned, but only as part of the necessary ma
chinery,100 and occupy a small place. They are interesting to
the writer only in so far as they are subservient to the build
ing of the church. Of heavens piled upon heavens, of the
entrances and the exits of the greater and lesser luminaries,
of the myriads of angels and their glory, of the mysteries of
the spiritual world, there is no word. And finally, of the
sadness which beclouds every page of the apocalyptic liter
ature, the sorrowful review of the past and its many sins,
the sense of present tyrannical oppression, the terrible ques
tions concerning sin and retribution, the old promises and their
apparent lack of fulfilment — of all this there is no trace. The
Shepherd is as little concerned with the past as with the future.
The present is his sole concern. The tower of the church of
God is abuilding, white and shapely stones are needed and
89 Such an hypothesis was thought necessary to account for the conflict
ing views of the early church, viz. that the Shepherd was written by a
brother of Pius (cir. 150), that the author was a contemporary of Qement,
and that the author was identical with Paul's contemporary. The various
forms of the hypothesis are tabulated by Harnack (cf. note 5).
100 This is a noteworthy fact. There is scarcely anything mentioned in
the Shepherd that has not an allegorical import and of which the interpre
tation is not given. So consistent is the author in this respect, that we
must assume that those things which obviously were intended to be taken
as symbols and whose explanation is obscure to us (e. g. the roots of the
white mountain, Sim. ix. 30; the four legs of the bench, Vis. iii. 13) were
quite intelligible to the early readers.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

527

it is his concern to provide them; and he sets himself joy
fully to this task.
The Jewish apocalypses regarded the future kingdom of the
Messiah as a transformed material world. The Shepherd re
gards the church of God as something drawn out from the
world both now and hereafter. He can therefore contemplate
with equanimity the horrors and signs of evil that so op
pressed the Jewish and Judaistic apocalypses, and confine his
view to the beauty of the tower which shall surely be com
pleted according to the plan of the Master.101 There is a
great calm over the Shepherd. This is the more remarkable
as the work was produced in the midst of persecutions, when
the church might be called on at any time to suffer stripes,
imprisonments, great tribulations, crosses and wild beasts for
the Name's sake;102 when friend might betray friend, and
even children their parents.103 No one can read the vision of
the beast,104 or the parable of the willow tree,105 or of the
stones cut out of the mountains of Arcadia,106 without per
ceiving that the writer was familiar with scenes like those
pictured in the story of the martyrdom of Polycarp, of Per-
petua and Felicitas, or of those of Vienne. The Shepherd of
Hermas too was written in the blood of the martyrs; and it
would not have surprised us if the author had been goaded in
to picturing the judgment about to fall on persecutors, or the
sufferings of the blessed martyrs, or had caught at the current
ideas of the coming antichrist, or pictured in glowing visions
301 The keynote of the Shepherd is struck in the passage (Vis. i. 3):
" Behold the God of hosts, who by his invisible and mighty power and by
his great wisdom created the world, and by his glorious purpose clothed his
creation with comeliness, and his strong word fixed the heaven and
founded the earth upon the waters and by his own wisdom and providence
formed his holy church which also he blessed — behold, he removeth the
heavens and the mountains and the hills and the seas, and all things are
made level for his elect, that he may fulfil to them the promise which he
promised with great glory and rejoicing, if so be that they shall keep the
ordinances of God, which they received with great faith." I have availed
myself here and elsewhere of Dr. Harmer's excellent translation. Cf. the
description of the finished tower, Sim. ix. 9 f., ix. 18.
102 Vis. iii. 2. 103 Vis. ii. 2. 1M Vis. iv.
108 Sim. viii. 108 Sim. ix. 19 f .

528 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
the brightness of the heavenly home. Nor would it be strange
under such oppression and with the view of families divided
against themselves — of many being eaten up with the cares of
riches107 or preferring the life of the Gentiles,108 if he had
allowed doubts to arise and pessimism to dominate. Com
pared with the over-wrought dreams of the apocalypses the
Shepherd of Hermas is a sane and wholesome work. Instead
of their fatalistic lamentation it is a song of hope ; instead of
the swan-song of a despairing nation, the battle-cry of a
vigorous community, — a community so young that it is not
yet clear as to its beliefs or its rules of conduct,109 but old
enough to have pride in its witnesses, confidence in its divine
Lord, assurance of ultimate victory and peace amid turmoil.
All this is not without bearing on the meaning and purpose
of the author. For knowing as he did these other movement?
in the church, feeling as he must have the perils that threat
ened, and having in mind, as we know, the other apocalypses,
he has deliberately turned his back upon them, and sharply
condemned the prevalent desire to penetrate the mysteries of
the unseen future. For when Hermas after watching the
building of the tower of the church ventured to ask his
heavenly guide whether the consummation should be even
now, " She cried out with a great voice saying, ' Senseless man,
dost thou not see that the tower is still building? Whenso
ever therefore the tower shall be finished building the end
cometh; but it shall be built up quickly. Ask me no more
questions : this reminder is sufficient for you and for the
saints and to the renewal of your spirits.' " 110 On only one
other occasion was Hermas so sharply reproved by his guide.
It is not without meaning that the terrible words which were
for the heathen and apostates are omitted, and only those
recorded which were " suitable for us and gentle ".111
Of the relation of the Shepherd to the Hermetic literature
it is more difficult to speak. Reitzenstein's recent critics have
shown that its dependence upon the Poimander is at least not
""Sim. {., ii. mMand. x. i.
188 This is fundamental and cannot be harmonized with a theory of Jewish
origin of the Shepherd.
1,0 Vis. iii. 8. 1U Vis. i. 3.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 529
yet proven, but there is a general agreement that both works,
in form at least, have much in common.112 And indeed,
Reitzenstein claims little more. For although he points
out resemblances between Hermas' conception of prophecy
and that of the Hermetic literature,113 between the lists
of good and evil powers,114 these are things common to a
larger literature, and he is too well acquainted with both the
Shepherd and the Hermetic literature to affirm more than a
literary relationship. In discussing what he considers the
clearest case of borrowing he says that the appearance of the
divine messenger in the form of a shepherd is a " perfectly
meaningless mask " in the Christian work and that " his
(Hermas') conception of the shepherd is blurred and con
fused, so that everything indicates that here we have to do
with a foreign type which has been clumsily introduced into the
Christian apocalyptic literature ".115 And again, " I do not
venture just now to say how far these heathen ideas have in
fluenced the theology of the Christian author, that is to so say,
how far the phenomenon of the shepherd was a matter of belief
or only literary fiction; the writing (the Shepherd) is too
unique for us to determine whether the lack of prominence
given to Christ and of clearness in picturing him is to be ex
plained by the assumption that his heathen counterpart has
been taken over along with the literary form." After saying
that " the whole fiction of these progressive revelations and
visions is quite consonant with such an assumption ", he con
tinues, " But even if we admit only a purely literary influence
we have a result both peculiar and well worthy of notice.
The Christian author uses heathen models quite as unconcern
edly as did the author of the Christian Clementine romance
or the inventor of the apocryphal Acts of an Apostle at a
mKrebs, Der Logos als Heiland im ersten Jahrhundert, pp. 136 ff.
Bardy, Le Pasteur d'Hermas et les livres hermetiques, Rev. Biblique, 191 1,
pp. 391 ff. Lietzmann, Theol. Literaturz., 1905, sp. 202. Cf. Cumont, Les
religions orientates dans le paganisme romain, p. 340, n. 41 ; Dibellius
Zeit. f. Kirchengesch., 1905, pp. 169 ff. who will not go so far.
m Op. cit., p. 203 f. luIbid., p. 231 f.
™Ibid., p. 13. But see the severe criticism by Krebs (op. cit., p. 138 f.),
who however has to assume that the Angel of Repentance in the Shep
herd is identical with the youth in the previous visions.

53°

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

later time. This indeed contradicts such conceptions (of
Hermas) as for instance that of Zahn, who makes of him a
' man of the people ' to whom literary influences could not
come, and who on account of his lack of culture must have
really seen his visions as he reported. I will not speak of the
biased exaggeration that underlies the expression ' man of the
people '. . . . It does not follow from the author's lack
of culture that he was fully independent of literary models;
the only immediate inference is that we have to seek these
models among the lower strata of literature and as a rule must
assume a more independent attitude toward them on the part
of the author." 116 In these sentences Reitzenstein shows that
he has a keener appreciation of the problem of the interpreta
tion of the :Shepherd than some theological writers. For if the
Shepherd of Hermas is " quite unique ", if only a formal re
lation to the apocalyptic and Hermetic literature can be asserted
and the whole intellectual and religious background is different,
and this in spite of the presence of some heathen and perhaps
Hermetic ideas, is it not difficult to conceive of it as the naive
record of the real or fancied experiences of a Christian pro
phet? Much more likely is it the conscious, and in some re
spects clumsy imitation that Reitzenstein supposes it to be.
That Hermas was one of the " prophets " occasionally men
tioned in early Christian literature has now become so firmly
fixed an opinion that it is more often asserted than examined.
And yet both the " prophets " and Hermas are sufficiently
described in the Shepherd, for us to institute a comparison,
which will show that Hermas could not have regarded himself
as one of this order, in spite of Harnack's contention that
the appearance of " apostles and teachers " in the Shepherd
instead of the usual " apostles, prophets and teachers " indi
cates the contrary.117 In the eleventh mandate after a descrip
tion of the false prophet, who with other criticisms is de
scribed as " not having the power of a divine Spirit in him ",
as being " empty ", or, because he sometimes speaks truth, as
one whom " the devil fills with his own spirit ", Hermas de
scribes true prophecy. " No Spirit given by God needeth to
118 Op. cit., p. 33-
117 Mission and Expansion of Christianity, 2nd ed. Engl, trans., I, p. 339L

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 531
be asked: but such a Spirit having the power of divinity
speaketh all things of itself for it proceedeth from above,
from the power of the divine Spirit." The true prophet may
be recognized by the following signs : "By his life test the
man that hath the divine Spirit. In the first place he that
hath the divine Spirit which is from above, is gentle and
tranquil and humble minded, and abstaineth from all wicked
ness and vain desire of this present world, and holdeth him
self inferior to all men, and giveth no answer to any man
when inquired of, nor speaketh in solitude, for neither doth
the Holy Spirit speak when a man wisheth him to speak; but
then he speaketh when God wisheth him to speak. When
therefore a man having the divine Spirit comes into an as
sembly of righteous men who have faith in a divine Spirit
and this assembly of men offers up prayer to God, then the
angel of the prophetic Spirit who is attached to him filleth the
man, and the man, being filled with the Holy Spirit, speaketh
to the multitude as the Lord willeth.118 In this way therefore
the divine Spirit shall be evident. As touching the divine
Spirit therefore whatever power there is, is of the Lord." If
the test of the true prophet is his life, Hermas, according to
his own statements, could not have passed examination. There
are indeed good things said of him. He is temperate, he
abstains from every evil desire and is full of all simplicity and
guilelessness,119 but he also is over indulgent toward his
family, corrupted by the sins of the world,120 covets a place of
honor higher than he is entitled to,121 is doubtful minded in
religious matters,122 and even says weeping of himself and
without contradiction " Never in my life spake I a true word
but I always lived deceitfully with all men and dressed up my
falsehood as truth before all men," 123 and in another place,
" I know not what deeds I must do that I may live, for my
sins are many and various." 124 Examples might be multiplied
but it is not necessary for the Angel of Repentance himself in
usTore b dyyeXos tov irpotpTyrixov irveipjaros 0 xelpevos irpbs abrbv irX-tipoirbv dvBpwirov,
xal irXiipwBels b dvBpwiros t$ irvebpari Tip dylw XaXei els rb TrXi)8os xaBiis b xbpios
PoiXerai. 118 Vis. i. 2. I2° Vis. i. 3- B1 Vis. iii. 1.
122 Vis. iv. 1. ™Mand. iii. '"Mand. iv. 2.

532

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

reminding him that " there are others before thee and better
than thou art unto whom these visions ought to have been
revealed " 123 informs us that Hermas did not measure up to
the standard required of a " prophet ".
But even though Hermas were able to stand the moral test,
or be regarded as an exception, as the words of the Angel of
Repentance might imply, the manner in which he received the
revelations does not accord with his description of prophecy.
According to the passages we have quoted the prophet is
filled with the prophetic spirit, he does not speak when he
will or where he will but only at the instance of the divine
spirit that descends upon him ab extra, and the words that he
speaks are wholly divine. That is to say Hermas conceives of
a prophet as a mere tool in the hands of the prophetic spirit
and as contributing nothing of his own but the voice. Such
is not the case with Hermas. The " prophetic spirit " is never
mentioned as the source of his revelations. The divine mes
sengers do not speak through him but to him. He fails to
comprehend, is reproved for his curiosity, argues with his
guide, and always maintains his own personality and the
human point of view. He is throughout not a passive instru
ment but an active and fallible reporter. " Canst thou carry a
report of these things to the elect of God ? " asks the Church
appearing as an old woman. " Lady, I say to her, I cannot
retain as much in my memory but give me the book and I shall
transcribe it." 126 The angel of Repentence commands him
" to write down the commandments and parables . . .
that thou mayest read them off-hand, and mayest be able to
keep them ".12T And the possibility of neglect of duty is im
plied in the repeated injunction " Continue in this ministry
and complete it unto the end ".128 " Quit you like a man in
this ministry, declare to every man the mighty works of the
Lord and thou shalt have favor in this ministry." 129 Such
words would be inappropriate to the prophets the Angel de
scribes.130 We are not surprised therefore that Hermas never
m Vis. iii. 4. 128 Vis. ii. i. ™ Vis. v.
™Sim.x.2. ™Sim.x.4.
130 The Shepherd's conception of a prophet as one completely dominated
by the divine Spirit, suggests a simpler reason for the omission of the

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

533

calls himself, nor does any other early writer give him the
title of prophet. Neither is his work called a prophecy, nor
after the name of the reputed author as was customary with
prophecies and apocalypses but after the chief mediator of
the revelations, the Shepherd. Clement of Alexandria, though
he occasionally when quoting loosely, uses Shepherd as the
title of the book,131 generally nicely distinguishes by his
method of citation those parts which were revealed by the
Shepherd, the Angel of Repentance132 from the revelations
given by others whom he calls " the power that spoke to
Hermas ",133 or " the power that appeared to Hermas in the
vision ",134 or " the power that appeared to Hermas in the
form of the Church ",135 We must conclude that Hermas was
not the spirit-filled passive being such as is meant by " pro
phet ", and, if the Shepherd's statements are to be taken liter
ally, had the gift of seeing visions, which Irenaeus also dis
tinguishes from that of prophecy.136
This latter hypothesis necessitates that the statements of the
Shepherd concerning Hermas' life and character be true, and
to test it we must examine them with a view to determining
their consistency and probability. Of the outward circum
stances of his life we learn very little. The first Vision be-
" prophets " from their usual place between " apostles " and " teachers "
than that proposed by Prof. Harnack. The apostles and teachers, as well
as others, are introduced by the Shepherd only for commendation or blame,
— in order to relate their rewards or punishments (Vis. iii. 5; Sim. ix. 15,
16, 25). But the prophet qua prophet was irresponsible and consequently
above praise or blame. In omitting them the author is simply obeying the
injunction of the Didache (chap. x. f.) " the prophet that speaketh in the
Spirit is not to be tried or judged."
m Strom, ii, 12, 55 (13, 56) ; iv, 9, 74.
132 Strom, i, 17, 85 ; cf . vi. 6, 46 ; ii, 9, 43-
133 Strom, i, 29, 181. ™ Strom, ii, 1, 3.
138 Strom, vi, 15, 131. With Origen this is reversed. He generally cites
the book by its title (iroipiv), only rarely speaking of the Angel of Re
pentance as the source of the revelation, e. g. De princip. i, 3, 3 ; In Joann,
i, 1 comm. t. I, 18. The references are from Harnack, Gesch. d. altchr.
Lit. I, i, pp. 53 f.
m Haer, ii. 32, 4; v, 6, 1. Cf. Euseb. Hist. Eccl. v, 7. Hermas uses the
terms vision (Spaais) and revelation ( diroKdXvijiis) of his experiences, e. g.
Vis. iii, 10.

534

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

gins : " He who reared me sold me to a certain' Rhoda in
Rome. After many years I met her again and began to love
her as a sister. After a certain time I saw her bathing in the
river Tiber and I gave her my hand and led her out of the
river. So, seeing her beauty, I reasoned in my heart, saying,
' Happy were I if I had such an one to wife, both in beauty
and in character ' ". Later in the same vision we gather that
he already has a wife and grown children, who are fearfully
corrupt and through whose sins Hermas has lost his posses
sions. The second Vision, which is said to have occurred a
year after the first, mentions the children as being still evil,
this time as having betrayed their parents, and still further ad
ded to their sins wanton deeds and reckless wickedness. Of
his wife too it is added that she does " not refrain from using
her tongue, wherewith she doeth evil ". From the third Vision
we learn that a little distance from the city he had a field in
which he cultivated grain,137 and also that " when thou (Her
mas) hadst riches thou wast useless but now thou art useful
and profitable unto life ",138 Several later passages imply that
he was engaged in business,139 and on one occasion he is ad
dressed as " thou who hast fields and dwellings and many other
possessions " 140 Toward the end we are informed that his
family repented and was reunited.141 There is nothing neces
sarily inconsistent about these statements. Harnack indeed
doubts the historicity of the first Vision on chronological
grounds,142 Donaldson points out the improbability of anyone,
however naive, speaking of his wife and children as Hermas
does,143 and the statement that Hermas had fields, dwellings
and other possessions is certainly surprising, coming where it
does, and especially as it is coupled with a warning against
seeking wealth. Still it is quite possible to weave the inci
dents, as Zahn has done,144 into a self-consistent and touching
™ XovSplfeis. Cf. Zahn, Der Hirt. des Hennas, p. 83 f.
138 The loss of wealth is mentioned also in Vis. i, 3, if we accept Zahn's
interpretation of dirb as a privative, op. cit., p. 490 f.
189 Vis. ii, 3 ; Mand. iii ; x ; Sim. iv.
140 Sim. i. 141 Sim. vii.
142 Patr. Apost. Op., not. ad loc. 143 Apostolical Fathers, p. 327.
144 Op. cit., pp. 70 ff. But he omits the reference to wealth in Sim. i.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 535
picture of wealth, early sins, persecution, loss of possessions,
repentance and restoration.
We turn to Hermas' intellectual and moral qualities. We
learn that he was habitually patient, good-tempered and al
ways smiling,145 that he abstained from every evil desire and
was full of all simplicity and great guilelessness,146 that he
is saved by his simplicity, great continence and guilelessness,147
that he is useful and profitable unto life since he has lost his
wealth,148 and has great zeal for doing good.149 That is one
side. On the other, we have the statement that he was an
over-indulgent and careless husband and father,150 that his
double-mindedness made him of no understanding, and his
heart was not set on the Lord,151 that his spirit was aged and
already decayed and had no power by reason of his infirmities
and acts of double-mindedness.152 Indeed, double-mindedness,
one of the worst of faults, is frequently ascribed to him.153
He says of himself with tears, " Never in my life spake I a
true word, but I always lived deceitfully with all men and
dressed up my falsehood as truth before all men." 154 He is
ignorant concerning repentance because his heart was made
dense by his former deeds.155 He is included among those
who " have never investigated concerning the truth, nor in
quired concerning the Deity, but have merely believed and
have been mixed up in business affairs, and riches and heathen
friendships, and many other affairs of this world ",156 He
will not cleanse his heart and serve God, and has to be
warned lest haply the time be fulfilled and he be found in his
foolishness.157 And yet in spite of all this he is commended
for having done nothing out of order since the Angel of
Repentance came to him.158
All attempts to refer Hermas' sins to an earlier period159 in
his life must fail. In most cases at least the sins referred to
are stated to be present ones, as is shown by his tears, his
"5 Vis. i, 2. 14S Ibid. "' Vis. ii, 2; iii. 1.
148 Vis. iii, 6. 149 Sim. v, 3- m Vis. i, 3 ; ii, 2.
151 Vis. iii, 10. ™Vis. iii, 11.
163 Vis, iv, 1 ; vi, 1 ; Mand. ix ; xii, 3 f .
mMand. iii. ™ Mand. iv, 2. ™ Mand. x, 1.
™ Sim. vi, 5. w Sim. x, 2. 1MAs Zahn does.

536 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
ignorance of the sinfulness of certain actions, his prayers for
forgiveness, and his joy at the possibility of repentance.160
The simple fact is that the statements regarding Hermas'
moral character are difficult if not impossible of union in a
self -consistent picture. Moreover, what are we to think of a
Christian who has penetrated so far into the principles of
Christian morality that he can put nice questions concerning
the treatment of an adulterous wife, or the rightfulness of
second marriage,161 or the possibility of repentance after bap
tism,162 and yet is not aware that evil thoughts are sinful,163
thinks the Church appearing in the form of a woman is the
Sybil,164 is unaware that business lies are wrong;165 and can
we conceive of a Christian, however low his station, who did
not know that the Church was built upon the Son of God,166 or
was ignorant of what the martyrs had suffered?167 In the
light of such inconsistencies it is easier to regard Hermas as
a composite and fictitious figure, which could and did vary to
suit the requirements of the author, who at times must address
even the very ignorant. Only such an assumption will ex
plain Hermas' repeated estimate of himself : " I am absolutely
unable to comprehend anything at all." 168
But even though we were to admit the possibility of these
mutually exclusive elements existing in one person, and should
accept the resultant picture of a " man of the people " some
what as Zahn has so sympathetically drawn it, we should only
involve ourselves in a greater difficulty. For whether we
agree with this same writer in saying that one of such little
culture was incapable of producing a romance, we can most
decidedly affirm that such a Hermas as is pictured in the
Shepherd was not the author of the work that bears his name.
This is a matter so obvious that it is surprising it has not
been more clearly perceived. For, if Hermas be ignorant it is
another than he that informs his ignorance, that is to say
that provides the major portion of the Shepherd. In other
words, either Hermas as author gives answers to his own
180 E. g. Vis. i, i f. ; Mand. iii ; iv, 2 f .
laMand. iv, 1. la Mand. iv, 3. lra Vis. i, 1 f.
184 Vis. ii, 4. 1K Mand. iii. 188 Sim. ix, 4.
187 Vis. iii, 2. 18S Mand. iv, 2 ; Sim. ix, 14.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 537
questions, and corrects his own faults, or else he was the
recipient of real external revelations. Wake, Thiersch, and
others who hold to the reality of these revelations, were con
sistent. Prof. Zahn too feels the logical necessity of making
Hermas a man of the people, and regards them as real, though
refusing to estimate their present value. But there is no
excuse for those who describe Hermas as he describes himself
and still make him the author of the Shepherd. The author
of the Shepherd, whether he wrote in ecstasy or with deliber
ation, was somehow or other competent both to picture his
shortcomings and correct them. Von Dobschiitz, although
dominated by the current theory of Hermas' prophecy, feels
the necessity of accounting for the didactic portion of the
work in some tangible way when he says : " All this is said
to Hermas by the Church. To be sure she appears to the
prophet as a heavenly figure. But we do not err when we
transfer the vision to earth." 169 Why not then boldly trans
fer it, as our evidence requires, and recognize in Hermas not
the naive prophet, not the unconscious type of the Roman
Christian of his day, not the " strange, solitary, weak, ignorant,
ecstatic, inspired perhaps but not inspiring " teacher, who " if
he was really brother to a bishop must have been a trial to his
relative ",170 but the intentional, variable type, drawn indeed
from life, but from more lives than one, the result of the ex
perience of the author, who, as the apparently reliable Mura
tori Fragment reports, was brother to Bishop Pius. A book
that imposed upon Clement and Origen and was regarded as
most useful by Athanasius,171 was not written by a fool,
however ecstatic.
The silly, well-meaning Hermas in the Shepherd, with his
hopes and fears, his delight in all he sees and hears, his chang
ing moods of doubt and confidence, and especially his ques-
188 Christian Life in the Primitive Church, Engl, trans, p. 315. Leipoldt,
(op. cit, p. 33 n. 2) says: "Die Apokalyptik als literarische Form zu
benutzen, dazu was Hermas zu ungeschickt." Of course he was — and too
ignorant to instruct himself or others. He says so himself. Then who
did it?
170 Bigg, Origins of Christianity, p. 73-
171 De incarn. verb. Dei, iii, 1.

538 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
tions, frequently stupid, as the Angel tells him, very often
quite unnecessary and sometimes to our mind (and we doubt
not to the minds of the early Christians) amusing in their
naivete, is merely a foil for the writer. Through him he
addresses directly any and every member of the community.
For the Hermas so pictured is guilty, or in danger of falling
into practically every venial sin mentioned in the book, evil
thoughts, morbid introspection, a wrong estimate of fasting,
curiosity, doubt, business lies, heathen friendships, pride, sad
ness, anger, the love of wealth, lack of faith, seeking revela
tions, double-mindedness, unchastity, indulging his wife and
children. This is the reason that he appears suddenly in the
middle of the work as possessed of lands, dwellings and other
possessions, and it is probably because he is here so plainly a
type that Zahn has passed over this passage in picturing his
life and character. By this device, too, the author has a simple
means of breaking up the otherwise wearisome (or more
wearisome) mandates and similitudes, and of introducing ex
positions of his visions. In his Pilgrim's Progress, John Bun
yan on only one occasion steps over the frame of the picture,
namely when he asks Hope concerning the Slough of Despond.
The incident undoubtedly mars the picture, and we feel that he
would have done better to allow the explanation to be given
to someone within the picture as he invariably does elsewhere.
The author of the Shepherd has adopted as his usual method
that which was exceptional with Bunyan, but with the same
results, save that he partly defeated his own purpose, for his
fiction, like so many others, was mistaken by some for literal
truth. Such is the most natural conclusion to draw from what
we have seen of the history and contents of the Shepherd and
there are still other indications that it is the right one.
Contrary to the manner of Apocalyptic books, the Shepherd
despises secrecy. Its teachings are to be flung broadcast over
the earth. What is said to Hermas is intended for all, and
there is scarcely a paragraph in which he is not charged with
the duty of publishing it to his fellow-Christians either orally
or by writing. But this is not all. Not infrequently the
writer (through the Angel) addresses the many directly. The

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 539
first instance of this172 is introduced by a command to Her
mas to bear the message to the leaders and others, but such
direction is so frequently omitted and the singular and plural
alternate without reason or excuse, that the most natural ex
planation is that the writer was not always true to his fiction
of one interlocutor but unconsciously addressed the many
whom he really had in mind.173 One who reads these passages
with attention to the alternation of the singular and plural
cannot but mark how the person of Hermas is dimmed and
merged in the crowd back of him. One example must suffice
here. " ' Sir, this one thing alone / ask concerning the three
forms of the aged woman, that a complete revelation may be
vouchsafed to me '. He saith to me in answer, ' How long
are ye without understanding? It is your double-mindedness
that maketh you of no understanding, and because your heart
is not set towards the Lord.' I answered and said unto him
again, ' From thee, Sir, we shall learn the matters more ac
curately.' 'Listen', saith he, 'concerning the three forms of
which thou inquirest. In the first vision wherefore did she ap
pear to thee an aged woman and seated on a chair? Because
your spirit was aged, and already decayed, and had no power,
by reason of your infirmities and acts of double-mindedness.
For as aged people, having no longer hope of renewing their
youth, expect nothing else but to fall asleep, so ye also, being
weakened with the affairs of this world, gave yourselves over
to repining and cast not your cares on the Lord ; but your spirit
was broken, and ye were aged by your sorrows. . . . But
in the second vision thou sawest her standing and with her
countenance more youthful and more gladsome than before,
but her flesh and her hair aged. . . . For he (the Lord)
had compassion on you and renewed your spirits and ye laid
aside your maladies. . . . And therefore he showed you
the building of the tower. . . . But in the third vision
thou sawest her younger and fair and gladsome and her form
fair. . . . So ye have received a renewal of your spirits
by seeing these good things. And whereas thou sawest her
1,2 Vis. ii, 2.
178 E. g. Vis. ii, 6; iii, 10; iii, 11; Sim. i; Sim. vi, 1; vii; ix, 24, 28, 29, 31,
32, 33; x, 1, 4; et. al.

54°

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD

seated upon a couch, the position is a firm one.' " 174 The real
mind of the writer is expressed in the words of the Angel of
Repentance : " All these things which are written above, I,
the Shepherd, the Angel of Repentance, have declared and
spoken to the servants of God."175 These servants of God
with their virtue and weakness, their steadfastness and doubt,
their simplicity and double-mindedness, their hope and their
fear, are all to be found within the figure of Hermas.
Some striking omissions in the Shepherd have been fre
quently pointed out, and occasionally used to draw unwar
ranted conclusions regarding the church of the time. There
is not a single quotation from the Old or the New Testament.
There is no direct reference to any of the events of our Lord's
life, or to any of his teachings. The words " Jesus ", " Christ ",
" Jew ", " Israel ", " Christian ", " Gospel ", " baptism ", " Eu
charist ", " resurrection ", are all absent, and the word
" grace " though found is not used in the Christian sense.176
Had these omissions been fewer or less striking, it might be
possible to refer them to accident or ignorance, but the matter
is important enough to demand an explanation which will ac
count for them all. Is it possible to conceive of a Christian
work, written as late as the middle of the second century, in
tended, not for outsiders, but for the Christians themselves,
from which all these words — some of them catch-words of uni
versal familiarity — are excluded ? To say that the author was
ignorant of them would be absurd. To say he was not inter
ested in them is scarcely less tenable. In most cases the idea is
present and only the familiar designation absent. There can
be no doubt of his knowledge both of the Old Testament and
174 Vis. iii, 10 f. 1TC Sim, ix, 33.
178 To say that the absence of quotations from the New Testament
proves that this was not yet on a par with the Old (e. g. Holtzmann, Ein-
leitung in d. NT. p. no) is merely frivolous. To explain the absence of
any citation (except that from the book of Eldad and Modat) on the
theory that revelation needs no other authority to support it (Weinel in
Hennecke, Neutest. Apokr., pp. 228 f.) or that Hermas was commanded to
tell what he had seen not what he had read (Zahn, Hirt. d. Hermas, p.
p. 393), might suffice if this were the only striking omission. And yet may
not the Shepherd have appealed to Scripture quite as really by suggestion
(see even Holtzmann's view, note 178) as if he had formally cited it?

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 541
of part of the New.177 The idea of grace is found in his
frequent references to the mercy of God in forgiving sins, and
sending repentance. Jesus Christ moves all through the work
under the title of " Son of God ". Baptism appears frequently,
only without the name. We are forced to the conclusion that
these omissions were deliberate and intentional — a thing prac
tically impossible if the Shepherd be the naive record of the
experience of a vacillating though devout prophet, but which
finds a simple and natural explanation if it is an allegory.
For an allegory is of the same nature as a puzzle and has the
same sort of charm. The truth is concealed behind unusual
words and images, and the reader has the same satisfaction
in searching for it, as in solving a rebus or an acrostic. It
appeals to one of the strongest of human passions — curiosity,
and it has the merit of presenting truth in a new and inter
esting guise. Of course the puzzle may be easy or difficult to
solve, the veil of the allegory easy to lift or almost impene
trable. This will depend upon the author and his estimate of
his readers. John Bunyan frequently quotes the Bible ver
batim. The Shepherd never does, but he frequently suggests
passages in such a manner that we wonder how he escaped
doing so.178 But whether easy of solution or heavily veiled, an
allegory to be an allegory must make some pretense of being
an enigma, and this we think is the most natural explanation
of these remarkable omissions.
It is not our purpose here to discuss the merits of the
Shepherd either as a Christian book of instruction or as an
allegory. The part it played in the early church is sufficient
proof that the author understood his contemporaries. What
we do wish to point out afresh is that in interpreting it we
must begin, not with the exceedingly human Hermas who
lives so delightfully on every page, but with the author who
could delineate such a character, and use it in correcting the
177 See The New Testament in the Apostolic Fathers, pp. 105 ff. Zahn,
op. cit, pp. 391 ff. and notes to critical editions.
178 " Wenn er fast ermiidende Umschreibungen von Jac. i, 6-8 (Mand. ix)
und Jac. iv, 7-12 (Mand. xii, 2-6) gibt, ohne dass es ihm in den Sinn
kame die betreffenden Stellen selbst zu citeren." Holtzmann, Einl. in d.
NT. p. no.

542 THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD
faults and failings of his own times. The Shepherd was
written from above down, and not the reverse.179 This is
supported by the testimony of the Muratori Fragment as to
its authorship, and by the fact — fact at least so far as we can
judge — that it was always regarded by the Roman church as
suitable for edification. On the other hand, we must remem
ber its undoubted resemblance to the popular pseudo-apocalyp
ses of the time, and its possible relation to the Hermetic liter
ature. This coupled with its lack of prominence in the liter
ature of the Roman church for some decades after its publica
tion suggests that it was intended for the lower classes. In
it they received more wholesome teaching in the style of the
popular religious literature of the day. It is in the form of
a revelation but it roundly condemns those that seek revela
tions.180 It is an imitation of apocalypses, but it cries out in
horror at anyone wishing to pierce the mystery to whose so
lution the other apocalypses were devoted.181 It reminds us
of the Hermetic literature but it prohibits all attempts to un
derstand the mysteries which called this class of literature into
being.182 This consideration immediately brings into promi
nence the word-bandying that forms no inconsiderable portion
of the work, and the many accusations of foolishness and
stupidity take on real meaning. Rome already was requiring
implicit obedience of her humbler members. The Hermas
that wishes to solve mysteries, asks questions, has his opinions,
dares to dispute with his guide, is cried down, snubbed and
held up to ridicule. When he timorously doubted his ability to
keep the commandments the Church could swell with anger and
forbid such impious thoughts,183 when he was troubled over
his unknown sin of evil desire, she could smile — it was a little
sin — and assure him that God was not angry with him for
that.184 Just so we treat little children.
We may venture now to state positively what seems to be
the theory of the origin and early fortunes of the Shepherd
™ This is the unexpressed assumption back of Prof. Lake's article in the
Harvard Theological Review, Jan. 1911, pp. 25 ff.
180 Vis. iii, 3, 10, 13 ; Sim. v, 4 f.
™Vis. iii, 8. 1S2Sim. ix, 1 f.
183 Mand. xii, 3 f. 181 Vis. i, 1 ff.

THE INTERPRETATION OF THE SHEPHERD 543
most consonant with the available evidence. It was written
by a certain Hermas, who was the brother of Pius, bishop of
Rome, and so presumably close to the leaders of the church.
In the words of the Church and the Shepherd and the other
heavenly messengers we are to see the official teaching of the
church of Rome. It was intended chiefly for the edification of
the lower class of church members, who are typified in the
figure of Hermas within the story. It is in the form of a reve
lation in order to compete with the popular apocalyptic and
cryptic literature of the time, to the teachings and attitude of
which it is opposed. There is no evidence that the author in
tended it to be taken for revelation, nor that the Roman church
did so mistake it. Its immediate popularity is indubitable for it
soon was known far beyond the place of its origin. In the
West it circulated chiefly among the common people, for it
appears very rarely in the better literature, and in Africa any
way was regarded with superstitious reverence by the masses,
who were sharply rebuked by their leader. The correspond
ence of the author's name with that of a contemporary of St.
Paul, and the literary form of the work, easily suggested an
erroneous view of its origin and nature. In Alexandria even
the church leaders accepted it as a genuine revelation, one of
them definitely ascribing it to St. Paul's friend. The real use
fulness of the book was imperilled by such extravagant claims,
and the Roman authorities, as represented in the Muratori
Fragment, speaking out of full knowledge of the matter, at
tempted to restore it to its original place and function in the
church.

JESUS AND PAUL
John Gresham Machen

Importance of the problem. — It is better to begin the discussion with Paul,
because Paul is more easily known than Jesus, and because there
is direct testimony as to Paul's relation to Jesus. — The original
apostles regarded Paul as an innovator neither with respect to
freedom from the law nor with respect to the person of Christ. —
Paul does not deny dependence on tradition for the facts of the
life of Jesus. — The paucity of references in the epistles to words
and deeds of Jesus has been exaggerated and misinterpreted. —
Both by his contemporaries, therefore, and by Paul himself, Paul
is represented as a true disciple of Jesus. — This conclusion is not
overthrown by comparison with the Gospels. — Such comparison
is valuable, because the exalted Christology of the Gospels is not
due to Pauline influence. — The formation of this Christology
is inexplicable upon naturalistic principles. — The harmony be
tween Jesus and Paul extends even to what is regarded by modern
criticism as characteristic of Jesus — for example, the fatherhood
of God, and love as the fulfilling of the law. — But the essence of
Paulinism is communion with the risen Christ, not imitation of
the earthly Jesus. — Paul was a disciple of Jesus only if Jesus was
a supernatural person.

JESUS AND PAUL1
The Apostle Paul is the greatest teacher of the Christian
Church. True, he has not always been fully understood. The
legalism that he combatted during his lifetime soon established
itself among his converts, and finally celebrated a triumph in
the formation of the Catholic Church. The keen edge of his
dialectic was soon blunted. But however his ideas may have
been injured in transmission, they were never altogether de
stroyed. Much was forgotten; but what remained was the
life of the Church. And the great revivals were revivals of
Paulinism. Protestantism. — in its practical piety as well as
in its theology — was simply a rediscovery of Paul.
Yet Paul has never been accepted for his own sake. Men
have never come to him for an independent solution of the
riddle of the universe. Simply as a religious philosopher,
he is unsatisfactory ; for his philosophy is rooted in one definite
fact. He has been listened to not as a philosopher, but as a
witness — a witness to Jesus Christ. His teaching has been
accepted only on one condition — that he speak as a faithful
disciple of Jesus of Nazareth.
The question of the relation between Jesus and Paul is there
fore absolutely fundamental. Paul has always been regarded
as the greatest disciple of Jesus. If so, well and good. The
Christian Church may then go forward as it has done be-
1 The following paper is merely a sketch. It raises many questions which
it does not answer. It attempts no exposition of recent discussion. Sug
gestions have been received from many sources, but it is hoped that a
general acknowledgment of indebtedness will render a series of footnotes
unnecessary. The following list of monographs, pamphlets and articles
is far from exhaustive :— Paret, Paulus und Jesus, in Jahrbiicher fiir
deutsche Theologie, iii (1859), pp. 1-85; Wendt, Die Lehre des Paulus
verglichen mit der Lehre Jesu, in Zeitschrift fiir Theologie und Kirche,
iii (1894), pp. 1-78; Hilgenfeld, Jesus und Paulus, in Zeitschrift fiir wissen-

548 JESUS AND PAUL
fore. But in recent years there is a tendency to dissociate
Paul from Jesus. A recent historian has entitled Paul " the
second founder of Christianity ". If that be correct, then
Christianity is facing the greatest crisis in its history. For —
let us not deceive ourselves — if Paul is independent of Jesus,
he can no longer be a teacher of the Church. Christianity is
founded upon Christ and only Christ. Paulinism has never
been accepted upon any other supposition than that it repro
duces the mind of Christ. If that supposition is incorrect — if
Paulinism is derived not from Jesus Christ, but from other
sources — then it must be uprooted from the life of the Church.
But that is more than reform — it is revolution. Compared
with that upheaval, the reformation of the sixteenth century
is as nothing.
schaftliche Theologie, xxxvii (1894), pp. 481-541; Feine, Jesus Christus
und Paulus, 1902; Bruckner, Die Entstehung der paulinischen Christologie,
1003, Zum Thema Jesus und Paulus, in Zeitschrift fiir die neutestament-
liche Wissenschaft, vii (1906), pp. 112-119, Der Apostel Paulus als Zeuge
wider das Christusbild der Evangelien, in Protestantische Monatshefte,
x (1906), pp. 3S2-364; Wrede, Paulus, 1905; Vischer, Jesus und Paulus, in
Theologische Rundschau, viii (1905), pp. 129-143, 173-188; Kolbing, Die
geistige Einwirkung der Person Jesu auf Paulus, 1906; Kaftan, Jesus
und Paulus, 1906; Ihmels, Jesus und Paulus, in Neue kirchliche Zeit
schrift, xvii (1906), pp. 452-516; Pfleiderer, Der moderne Jesuskultus, in
Protestantische Monatshefte, x (1906), pp. 169-182; Johnson, Was Paul
the Founder of Christianity?, in Princeton Theological Review, v (1907),
PP- 398-422; Jiilicher, Paulus und Jesus, 1907; Meyer, Wer hat das
Christentum begrundet, Jesus oder Paulus? , 1907 ; Sanday, art. " Paul ",
in Hastings' Dictionary of Christ and the Gospels, ii (1908), Appendix,
pp. 886-892 ; Dunkmann, " Bedeutet die Paulinische Predigt vom Kreuz eine
Veranderung des einf achen Evangeliums Jesu ? ", in Evangelische Kirchen-
Zeitung, 82 (1908), columns 61-67, 81-86, 101-104, 121-127; W. Morgan,
The Jesus-Paul Controversy, in Expository Times, xx (1908-1909), pp.
9-12, 55-58; Weiss, Paulus und Jesus, 1909; Olschewski, Die Wurzeln der
paulinischen Christologie, 1909; G. Mdlligan, Paulinism and the Religion
of Jesus, in Expositor, 1909 (i), pp. 534-546; Scott, Jesus and Paul, in
Cambridge Biblical Essays, 1909 ; Holtzmann, Zum Thema " Jesus und
Paulus ", in Protestantische Monatshefte, iv (1900), pp. 463-468, xi (1907),
PP- 313-323, Paulus als Zeuge wider die Christusmythe von Arthur Drews,
in Christliche Welt, xxiv (1910), columns 151-160. Compare also Warfield,
The "Two Natures " and Recent Christological Speculation, in American
Journal of Theology, xv (1911), PP- 337-36l, 546-568.

JESUS AND PAUL 549
At first sight, the danger appears to be trifling. The voices
that would separate Paul from Jesus have been drowned by
a chorus of protest. In making Paul and not Jesus the true
founder of Christianity, Wrede is as little representative of
the main trend of modern investigation as he is when he elimi
nates the Messianic element from the consciousness of Jesus.
Measured by the direct assent which he has received, Wrede is
a negligeable quantity. But that is but a poor measure of his
importance. The true significance of Wrede's " Paul " is
that it has merely made explicit what was implicit before.
The entire modern reconstruction of primitive Christianity
leads logically to Wrede's startling pronouncement. Modern
liberalism has produced a Jesus who has really but little in
common with Paul. Wrede has but drawn the conclusion.
Paul was no disciple of the liberal Jesus. Wrede has merely
had the courage to say so.
This essential harmony between Wrede and his opponents
appears even in some of the criticisms to which he has been
subjected. No doubt these criticisms are salutary. They fill
out omissions, and correct exaggerations. But they obscure
the issue. In general, their refutation of Wrede amounts to
little more than this — Paul's theology is abandoned, in order
to save his religion. His theology, it is admitted, was de
rived from extra-Christian sources; but in his practical piety
he was a true disciple of Jesus. Such a distinction is thor
oughly vicious ; it is contradicted in no uncertain tones by the
Pauline Epistles. Where is it that the current of Paul's re
ligious experience becomes overpowering, so that even after
the lapse of centuries, even through the dull medium of the
printed page, it sweeps the heart of the sympathetic reader on
with it in a mighty flood? It is not in the ethical admon
itions. It is not in the discussions of the practical problems
of the Christian life. It is not even in the inspired encomium
of Christian love. But it is in the great theological passages
of the epistles — the second chapter of Galatians, the fifth
chapter of Second Corinthians, the fifth to the eighth chap
ters of Romans. In these passages, the religious experience
and the theology of Paul are blended in a union which no
critical analysis can dissolve. Furthermore, if it is impossi-

55o JESUS AND PAUL
ble to separate Pauline piety and Pauline theology in the life
of Paul himself, it is just as impossible to separate them in
the life of the Church of to-day. Thus far, at least, all at
tempts at accomplishing it have resulted in failure. Liberal
Christianity has sometimes tried to reproduce Paul's religion
apart from his theology. But thus far it has produced noth
ing which in the remotest degree resembles the model.
In determining whether Paul was a disciple of Jesus, the
whole Paul must be kept in view — not the theology apart from
the warm religious life that pulses through it, and not the
religious emotion apart from its basis in theology. Theology
apart from religion, or religion apart from theology — either
is an empty abstraction. The religion and the theology of
Paul stand or fall together. If one is derived from Jesus,
probably the other is also.
In discussing the relation between Jesus and Paul, it is
better to begin with Paul. For, in the first place, Paul is more
easily known than Jesus. That will be admitted on all sides.
Jesus wrote nothing; all the extant records of his words are
the reports of others. The trustworthiness of the records of
his life is at present a matter of dispute. Yet even if the most
favorable estimate of the Gospel narratives be adopted, Jesus
remains far more incomprehensible than Paul. Indeed it is
just when the Gospel picture is accepted in its entirety that
the sense of mystery in the presence of Jesus becomes most
overpowering. For the life of Paul, on the other hand, the historian is in
possession of sources which are not only trustworthy, but uni
versally admitted to be trustworthy. At least seven of the
Pauline Epistles — I Thessalonians, Galatians, i and 2 Corin
thians, Romans, Philippians, and Philemon — are now assigned
by all except a few extremists to Paul himself ; and the critical
doubts with regard to three of the others are gradually being
dispelled. In general, the disputed epistles are not of funda
mental importance for determining the relation of Paul to
Jesus. Colossians, perhaps, forms the only exception, and it is
just Colossians that is most commonly accepted as Pauline. All
the characteristic features of Paul's thinking appear within the
homologoumena; and it is the characteristic features alone

JESUS AND PAUL 551
which can determine the general question whether Paul was a
disciple of Jesus.
With regard to the book of Acts as a source for the study
of Paul, there is more difference of opinion ; and the difference
is of more importance for the question now in hand. But three
remarks can be made. In the first place, those sections of Acts
where the first person plural is used are universally regarded as
the work of an eye-witness. In the second place, the frame
work — the account of external events in the life of Paul — is for
the most part accepted. In the third place, the tendency of
recent criticism is decidedly towards a higher estimate of the
general representation of Paul. The conciliatory attitude
toward the Jews, which the book of Acts attributes to Paul, is
no longer regarded as due altogether to an " irenic " purpose
on the part of the historian.
The sources for the life of Paul are insufficient, indeed, for
a complete biography. For the period up to the conversion, the
extant information is of the most general kind, and after the
conversion some fifteen years elapse before anything like a
connected narrative can be constructed. Even from the years
of the so-called missionary journeys, only a bare summary has
been preserved, with vivid, detailed narratives only here and
there. Finally, the close of Paul's life is shrouded in obscurity.
But what the sources lack in quantity they make up in quality.
Paul was gifted with a remarkable power of self-revelation,
which has been exercised in his epistles to the fullest extent.
Free from self-centred vanity, without the slightest indelicacy,
without a touch of morbid introspection, he has yet revealed the
very secrets of his heart. Not only the exquisite delicacy of
feeling, the fine play of affection, the consecrated anger, the
keen practical judgment are open before us, but also the deep
est springs of the tremendous religious experience. The Paul
ine Epistles make Paul one of the best-known men of history.
We might be able to account, in an external way, for every day
and hour of his life, and yet not know him half so well.
As thus revealed, Paul is comprehensible. With all his
greatness, almost immeasurably exalted as he is above the
generality of mankind, he yet possesses nothing which any man
might not conceivably possess. Starting from the common

552 JESUS AND PAUL
misery of sin, he attained to a peace with God, which, again,
has been shared by humble Christians of all ages. His com
mission as apostle exceeds in dignity and importance that of
other disciples of Christ, but does not free him from human
limitations. It was Christ's strength which was made perfect
in weakness. In all essential features, the religious experience
of Paul may be imitated by every Christian. Jesus, on the
other hand, is full of mystery. Of course the mystery may be
ignored. It is ignored by Wrede, when he denies to Jesus the
consciousness of his Messiahship. But even by the most thor
ough-going modern naturalism, that is felt to be a desperate
measure. The Messianic consciousness is rooted too deep in
the sources ever to be removed by historical criticism. That
Jesus lived at all is hardly more certain than that he thought
himself to be the Messiah. But the Messianic consciousness
of Jesus is a profound mystery. It would be no mystery if
Jesus were an ordinary fanatic or unbalanced visionary.
Among the many false Messiahs who championed their claims
in the first century, there may well have been some who de
ceived themselves as well as others. But Jesus was no ordinary-
fanatic — no megalomaniac. On the contrary, he is the moral
ideal of the race. His calmness, unselfishness, and strength
have produced an impression which the lapse of time has done
nothing to obliterate. It was such a man who supposed him
self to be the Son of Man who was to come with the clouds of
heaven ! Considered in the light of the character of Jesus, the
Messianic consciousness of Jesus is the profoundest of prob
lems. It is true, the problem can be solved. It can be solved
by supposing that Jesus' own estimate of his person was
true — by recognizing in Jesus a supernatural person. But the
acceptance of the supernatural is not easy. For the modern
mind it involves nothing short of a Copernican revolution.
And until that step is taken, the person of Jesus cannot be
understood. Paul, on the other hand, is more easily com
prehended. To a certain extent, his religious experience can
be understood, at least in an external way, even by one who
supposes it to be founded not on truth but on error. Paul,
therefore, may perhaps be a stepping-stone on the way to a
comprehension of Jesus.

JESUS AND PAUL 553
In the first place, then, the investigation of the relation be
tween Jesus and Paul should begin with Paul rather than with
Jesus, because Paul is, if not better known than Jesus, at least
more easily known. In the second place, Paul should be
studied before Jesus just because he lived after Jesus. If the
object of the investigation were Jesus and Paul, taken sep
arately, then it would be better to begin with the earlier rather
than with the later of the two; but since it is the relation be
tween Jesus and Paul that is to be studied, it is better method to
begin with Paul. For the investigator need not rely merely on
a comparison of Jesus and Paul. If Paul was dependent
upon Jesus, the fact may be expected to appear in direct state
ments of Paul himself, and in the attitude of his contempor
aries toward him. Did Paul feel himself to be an innovator
with respect to Jesus ; and was he regarded as an innovator by
the earlier disciples of Jesus ?
The latter question, at any rate, cannot be answered off
hand. There were undoubtedly some men in the primitive
church who combatted Paul in the name of conservatism.
These were the Judaizers, who regarded Paul's doctrine of
Christian freedom as a dangerous innovation. The Jewish law,
they said, must be maintained even among Gentile Christians.
Faith in Christ is supplementary to it, not subversive of it.
Were the Judaizers justified in their conservatism ? Were they
right in regarding Paul as an innovator ? What was the rela
tion between these Judaizers and the original apostles, who had
been disciples of Jesus in Galilee ? These are among the most
important questions in apostolic history. They have divided
students of the New Testament into hostile camps. F. C.
Baur supposed that the relation between Judaizers and original
apostles was in the main friendly. The original apostles,
though they could not quite close their eyes to the hand of God
as manifested in the successes of Paul, belong nevertheless in
wardly with the Judaizers rather than with Paul. The funda
mental fact of apostolic history is a conflict between Paul and
the original apostles, between Gentile Christianity and Jewish
Christianity. The history of early Christianity is the history of
the development and final adjustment of that conflict. The
Catholic Church of the close of the second century is the result

554 JESUS AND PAUL
of a compromise between Pauline Christianity and the Christ
ianity of the original apostles. This reconstruction of early
Christian history was opposed by Albrecht Ritschl. According
to Ritschl, the conflict in the apostolic age was not between
Paul and the original apostles, but between apostolic Christian
ity — including both Paul and the original apostles — on the one
side, and Judaistic Christianity — the Christianity of the Judais-
tic opponents of Paul. — on the other. Specifically Jewish
Christianity exerted no considerable influence upon the develop
ment of the Church. The Old Catholic Church of the close of
the second century was the result not of a compromise between
Jewish Christianity and Gentile Christianity, but of a natural
process of degeneration from Pauline Christianity on purely
Gentile Christian ground. The Gentile Christian world was
unable to understand the Pauline doctrine of grace. Christian
ity came to be regarded as a new law — but that was due, not to
the rehabilitation of the Mosaic law as a concession to Jewish
Christianity, but to the tendency of the average man toward
legalism in religion. As against Baur, Harnack belongs with
Ritschl. Like Ritschl, he denies to Jewish Christianity any
considerable influence upon the development of the Catholic
Church. The Church of 200 A. D. owes its difference from
Paul, not to a compromise with Jewish Christianity, but to the
intrusion of Greek habits of thought.
If Baur was correct, then Paul was probably no true disciple
of Jesus. For Baur brought Paul into fundamental, conflict
with the men who had stood nearest to Jesus. But Baur was
not correct. His reconstruction of apostolic history was ar
rived at by neglecting all sources except the epistles to the
Galatians and Corinthians and then misinterpreting these. He
failed to do justice to the " right hand of fellowship " (Gal. ii.-
9) which the pillars of the Jerusalem Church gave to Paul.
And the account of Paul's rebuke of Peter in Antioch, ap
parently the strongest evidence of a conflict between Paul and
the original apostles, is rather to be regarded as evidence to the
contrary. For Paul rebukes Peter for hypocrisy — not for false
opinions, but for concealing his correct opinions for fear of
men. In condemning his practice, Paul approves his principles.
Peter had therefore been in fundamental agreement with Paul.

JESUS AND PAUL 555
As for the Judaizers in Corinth, their opinions are as uncertain
as their relation to the original apostles. It is not certain that
they combatted Paul's doctrine of justification by faith, and
it is not certain that they had any kind of endorsement from
the original apostles. Surely the apostles were not the only
ones who could have given them " letters of recommendation "
(2 Cor. iii. 1).
Baur's thesis, then, was insufficiently grounded. One fact,
however, still requires explanation — the appeal of the Judaizers
to the original apostles against Paul. It is not enough to say
simply that the appeal of the Judaizers was a false appeal. For
if the original apostles were as Pauline as Paul himself, it is
difficult to see why they should have been preferred to Paul by
the anti-Pauline party. Surely the original apostles must have
given the Judaizers at least some color of support; otherwise
the Judaizers could never have appealed to them. Until this
appeal is explained, Baur remains unrefuted. But the explana
tion is not difficult to find. It was the life, not the teaching, of
the original apostles which appeared to support the contentions
of the Judaizers. The early Christians in Jerusalem continued
to observe the Jewish law. They continued in diligent attend
ance upon the Temple services. They observed the feasts, they
obeyed the regulations about food. To a superficial observer,
they were simply pious Jews. Now, as a matter of fact, they
were not simply pious Jews. They were relying for salvation
not really upon their observance of the law, but solely upon
their faith in the crucified and risen Christ. Inwardly, Christ
ianity was from the very beginning no mere continuation of
Judaism, but a new religion. Outwardly, however, the early
church was nothing more than a Jewish sect. And the Judai
zers failed to penetrate beneath the outward appearance. Be
cause the original apostles continued to observe the Jewish law,
the Judaizers supposed that legalism was of the essence of their
religion. The Judaizers appealed to the outward practice of
the apostles; Paul, to the deepest springs of their religious life.
So long as Christianity was preached only among Jews, there
was no acute conflict. True Christians and mere Jewish believ
ers in the Messiahship of Jesus were united by a common obser
vance of the Mosaic law. But when Christianity began to

556 JESUS AND PAUL
transcend the bounds of Judaism, the division became apparent.
The apostles, true disciples of Jesus, attested their own inward
freedom by accepting the outward freedom of the Gentiles;
the Judaizers, false brethren privily brought in, insisted upon
the observance of the law as necessary to salvation.
Paul, then, was not the founder of universalistic Christian
ity. In principle, Christianity was universalistic from the very
beginning. In principle, the first Christians in Jerusalem were
entirely free from the Judaism with which they were united
outwardly by observance of the Temple ritual. If Paul was
not the founder of universalistic Christianity, what was he?
What was his peculiar service to the Church ? It was not the
mere geographical extension of the frontiers of the Kingdom.
That achievement he shares with others. Paul was perhaps not
even the first to preach the Gospel systematically to Gentiles.
That honor belongs apparently to certain unnamed Jews of
Cyprus and Cyrene. The true achievement of Paul lies in an
other sphere — in the hidden realm of thought. When Chris
tianity began to be offered directly to Gentiles in Antioch, the
principles of the Gentile mission had to be established once for
all. Conceivably, of course, the Gentile mission might have
got along without principles. The leaders of the church at
Antioch might have pointed simply to the practical necessities
of the case. Obviously, the Gentile world, as a matter of fact,
would never accept circumcision, and would never submit to
the Mosaic law. Consequently, if Christianity was ever to be
anything more than a Jewish sect, the requirements of the law
must quietly be held in abeyance. Conceivably, the leaders of
the church at Antioch might have reasoned thus; conceivably
they might have been " practical Christian workers " in the
modern sense. But as a matter of fact, the leader of the
church at Antioch was the Apostle Paul. Paul was not a man
to sacrifice principle to practical necessity.
What was standing in the way of the Gentile mission was no
mere Jewish racial prejudice, but a genuine religious principle.
Jewish particularism was part of the very essence of the Jews'
religion. The idea of the covenant between God and his chosen
people was fundamental in all periods of Judaism. To have
offered the Gospel to uncircumcised Gentiles simply because

JESUS AND PAUL 557
that was demanded by the practical necessities of the case,
would have meant to a Jew nothing less than disobedience to
the revealed will of God. It would have been an irreparable
injury to the religious conscience. Particularism was not a
prejudice, but a religious principle. Therefore it could be over
come only by a higher principle. Its abrogation needed to be
demonstrated, not merely assumed. And that was the work of
Paul. The original apostles, through their intercourse with Jesus
upon earth, and their experience of the risen Lord, had in prin
ciple transcended Jewish particularism. Inwardly they were
free from the law. But they did not know that they were free.
Certainly they did not know why they were free. Such free
dom could not be permanent. It sufficed for the Jewish
Church, so long as the issue was not clearly drawn. But it was
open to argumentative attack. It could never have conquered
the world. Christian freedom was held by but a precarious
tenure, until its underlying principles were established. Christ
ianity could not exist without theology. And the first great
Christian theologian was Paul.
In championing Gentile freedom, then, in emphasizing the
doctrine of salvation by faith alone, Paul was not an innovator.
He was merely making explicit what had been implicit before.
He was in fundamental harmony with the original apostles.
And if he was in harmony with the most intimate disciples of
Jesus, the presumption is that he was in harmony with Jesus
himself. If the harmony between Paul and the original apostles was
preserved by Paul's conception of Christian freedom, it was
preserved even more clearly by his view of the person of
Christ. Just where modern radicalism is most confident that
Paul was an innovator, Paul's contemporaries were most confi
dent of his faithfulness to tradition. Even the Judaizers had
no quarrel with Paul's conception of Christ as a heavenly be
ing. In the Epistle to the Galatians, where Paul insists that
he received his apostleship not from men but directly from
Christ, he does so in sharp opposition to the Judaizers. Paul
says, " not by man, but by Christ " ; the Judaizers said, " not
by Christ but by man ". But if so, then the Judaizers, no less

558 JESUS AND PAUL
than Paul, distinguished Christ sharply from men, and placed
him clearly on the side of God. If Paul can prove that he
received his apostleship directly from Christ, then he has al
ready proved that he received it directly from God. Appar
ently, it never occurred to him that his opponents might accept
the former proposition and deny the latter. For the Judaizers
as well as for Paul, God and Christ belong together. In 2 Cor.
xi. 4, it is true, Paul hints that his opponents are preaching
another Jesus. If that passage stood alone, it might mean that
the Judaizers differed from Paul in their conception of the
person of Christ. But if there had been such a difference, it
would surely have appeared more clearly in the rest of the
Corinthian epistles. If the Judaizers had taught that Jesus
was a mere man, son of David and nothing else, surely
Paul would have taken occasion to contradict them. So dan
gerous an error — an error so completely subversive of Paul's
deepest convictions — could not possibly have been left un
refuted. The meaning of the passage is quite different. It
was the Judaizers themselves, and not Paul, who said that
their Jesus was another Jesus. " Paul ", they said to the
Corinthians, " has not revealed the Gospel to you in its ful
ness (2 Cor. iv. 3, xi. 5). Paul has had no close contact
either with Jesus himself, or with the immediate disciples
of Jesus. Paul has preached but an imperfect gospel. We, on
the other hand, can offer you the true Jesus, the true Spirit, and
the true gospel. Do not listen to Paul. We alone can give you
fully authentic information. " In reality, however, the Judai
zers had nothing new to offer. Paul had been no whit behind
" the preeminent apostles ". He had made the full gospel plain
and open before them (2 Cor. xi. 5, 6). If Paul's gospel was
hidden, it was hidden only from those who had been blinded by
the god of this world (2 Cor. iv. 4). The " other Jesus " of
the Judaizers existed only in their own inordinate claims.
They preached the same Jesus as did Paul' — only their preach
ing was marred by quarrelsomeness and pride. They preached
the same Jesus; but they had not themselves come into vital
communion with him. In that they differed from Paul.
It is not until the Epistle to the Colossians that Paul is com
pelled to defend his conception of the person of Christ. And

JESUS AND PAUL 559
there he defends it not against a conservative, naturalistic view
of Jesus as a merely human Messiah, but against Gnostic specu
lation. With regard to the person of Christ, Paul appears
everywhere in perfect harmony with all Palestinian Christians.
In the whole New Testament there is not a trace of a conflict.
That is a fact of tremendous significance. For Paul's concep
tion of the supernatural Christ was formed not later than five
years after the crucifixion of Jesus. There is every reason to
believe that it was formed at the conversion. With regard to
this matter, there is no evidence of a development in Paul's
thinking. One passage, 2 Cor. v. 16, has occasionaly been re
garded as such evidence. But only by palpable disregard of the
context. When Paul says, " Even if we have known Christ
according to the flesh, yet now we know him so no longer ", he
cannot possibly mean that for a time after his conversion he
regarded Christ simply as a human, Jewish Messiah. For the
point of the whole passage is the revolutionary change wrought
in every Christian's life by the death of Christ. It is clearly
the appropriation of that death — that is, conversion — and not
some subsequent development of the Christian life which brings
the transition from the knowledge of Christ after the flesh
(whatever that may be) to the higher knowledge of which
Paul is now in possession. The revelation of God's Son (Gal.
i. 16) on the road to Damascus clearly gave to Paul the essen
tial elements of his Christology. What is more, that Christo
logy must have formed from the very beginning the essence of
his preaching. The " Jesus " whom he preached in the Damas-
can synagogues was also Christ — his Christ. That he preached
in Damascus is directly attested only by the book of Acts, but,
as has been observed by some who entertain rather a low esti
mate of Acts, it is implied in 2 Cor. xi. 32, 33. What could
have caused the persecution of Paul except Christian activity
on his part? If the book of Acts is correct, Paul preached also
in Jerusalem only three years after his conversion. Yet the
churches of Judea glorified God in him. If there was opposi
tion to his heavenly Christ, such opposition has left no trace.
Yet Paul had been in direct consultation with Peter. There is
every reason to believe, therefore, that from the very begin
ning, the exalted Christology of Paul was accepted by the

560 JESUS AND PAUL
Jerusalem Church. The heavenly Christ of Paul was also the
Christ of those who had walked and talked with Jesus of
Nazareth. By his contemporaries, then, Paul was regarded not as the
founder of a new religion, but as a disciple of Jesus. That testi
mony may be overthrown by contrary evidence. But there is
a strong presumption that it is correct. For among those who
passed judgment upon Paul were included the most intimate
friends and disciples of Jesus. Their estimate of Paul's rela
tionship to Jesus can be rejected only under the compulsion of
positive evidence. Those who knew Jesus best accepted Paul
as a disciple of Jesus like themselves.
Thus, by his contemporaries, Paul was not regarded as an
innovator with respect to Jesus. Did he regard himself as
such? Put in this form, the question admits of but one answer. " It
is no longer I that live ", says Paul, " but Christ that liveth in
me. " Christ, for Paul, was absolute Lord and Master. But
this " Christ " whom Paul served was identified by Paul with
Jesus of Nazareth. Of that there can be no manner of doubt.
Moreover, even in his estate of humiliation, Christ was re
garded by Paul as Lord. It was " the Lord of glory " ( i Cor.
ii. 8) who was crucified. The right of the earthly Jesus to
issue commands was for Paul a matter of course. That is
proved beyond question even by the few direct references which
Paul makes to words of Jesus. So much is almost universally
admitted. That Paul regarded himself as a disciple of Jesus
can be denied by no one. The difference of opinion appears
when the question is formulated in somewhat broader terms.
Do the Pauline Epistles themselves, even apart from a com
parison with the words of Jesus, furnish evidence that Paul
was not, as he supposed, a disciple of Jesus, but the founder of
a new religion ?
In favor of the affirmative, two considerations have been ad
duced. In the first place, in the Epistle to the Galatians Paul himself
insists upon his independence of tradition. He received his
gospel directly from Christ, not through any human agency.
Even after he had received his gospel, he avoided all contact

JESUS AND PAUL 561
with those who had been apostles before him. He conferred
not with flesh and blood. Paul received his gospel, then, by
revelation from the risen Christ, not by tradition from the
earthly Jesus. But the earthly Jesus was the historical Jesus.
In exalting his direct commission from the heavenly Christ,
Paul has himself betrayed the slenderness of his connection
with Jesus of Nazareth.
In the second place, the same low estimate of historical tra
dition appears throughout the epistles, in the paucity of refer
ences to the words and deeds of Jesus. Apparently Paul is
interested almost exclusively in the birth and death and resur
rection. He is interested in the birth as the incarnation of a
heavenly being, come for the salvation of men; and in the
death and resurrection as the great cosmic events by which
salvation was obtained. But for the details of the life of
Jesus he displays but little interest. His mind and fancy are
dominated by a vague, mysterious, cosmic personification, not
by a definite historical person — by the heavenly Christ, not by
Jesus of Nazareth.
The latter of these two arguments can be established only by
exaggeration and by misinterpretation — by exaggeration of
the paucity of references in Paul to the life of Jesus, and by
misinterpretation of the paucity that really exists. In the first
place, Paul displays far greater knowledge than is sometimes
supposed, and in the second place, he possesses far greater
knowledge than he displays. The testimony of Paul to Jesus
has been examined many times — it will not be necessary to
traverse the ground again. The assertion that the details of the
life of Jesus were of little value for Paul is contradicted in no
uncertain terms by such passages as 2 Cor. x. 1 and Rom. xv.
3. When Paul urges as an example to his readers the meek
ness and gentleness of Christ, or his faithfulness in bearing re
proaches in the service of God, he is evidently thinking not pri
marily of the gracious acts of the incarnation and passion, as in
Phil. ii. 5 ff., and 2 Cor. viii. 9, but of the character of Jesus as
it was exhibited in his daily life on earth. Such expressions as
these attest not merely knowledge of Jesus but also warm ap
preciation of his character. The imitation of Jesus ( 1 Cor. xi.
1) had its due place in the ethical life of Paul. Direct -com-

562 JESUS AND PAUL
mands of Jesus are occasionally quoted, and Paul is fully con
scious of the significance of such commands (1 Cor. vii. 10, 12,
25). In 1 Cor. xi. 23 ff., he quotes in full the words of Jesus
instituting the Lord's Supper, and incidentally shows that he is
acquainted with the exact circumstances under which the words
were spoken (" the night in which he was betrayed ").
The incidental character of Paul's references to the life of
Jesus itself suggests that he knew far more than he chooses to
tell. The account of the institution of the Lord's Supper, for
example, would never have found a place in the epistles except
for certain abuses which had sprung up in Corinth. Yet Paul
says that he had already " delivered over " that account to the
Corinthians. It had formed part of his elementary preaching.
And it displays intimate knowledge of detail. That one ex
ample is sufficient to prove not only that Paul knew more than
he tells in the epistles, but also that what is omitted from the
epistles formed part of the essential elements of his preaching.
It is omitted not because it is unimportant, but on the contrary
because it is fundamental. Instruction about it had to be given
at the very beginning, and did not often have to be repeated.
The hint supplied by such passages as the account of the Lord's
Supper in 1 Cor. xi. 23 ff. is only supplementary to weighty 0
priori considerations. A missionary preaching that included
no concrete account of the life of Jesus would have been pre
posterous. The claim that a crucified Jew was to be obeyed as
Lord and trusted as Saviour must surely have provoked the
question as to what manner of man this was. It is true that
the gods of other religions needed to be described only in gen
eral terms. But Christianity had dispensed with the advantages
of such vagueness. It had identified its God with a Jew who
had lived but a few years before. Surely the tremendous pre
judice against accepting a crucified criminal as Lord and Master
could be overcome only by an account of the wonderful charac
ter of Jesus. The only other resource is an extreme super
naturalism. If the concrete figure of the crucified one had no
part in winning the hearts of men, then the work must have
been accomplished by a magical exercise of divine power —
working out of all connection with the mind and heart. That
is not the supernaturalism of Paul. When Paul writes to the

JESUS AND PAUL 563
Galatians that Jesus Christ crucified was placarded before
their eyes, he refers to something more than a dogmatic ex
position of the atonement. The picture of the crucified one
owed part of its compelling power to the conviction that the
death there portrayed was the supreme act of a life of love.
It is already pretty clear that the first chapter of Galatians
cannot mean that Paul had a contempt for Christian tradition.
When Paul says that he received his gospel by direct revelation
from Jesus Christ, he cannot mean that he excluded from his
preaching what he had received by ordinary word of mouth
from the eye-witnesses of the life of Jesus. He cannot mean
even that his proof of the resurrection of Jesus was based
solely upon his own testimony. That inference, at least, would
be very natural if Gal. i stood alone. But it is refuted in no
uncertain terms by 1 Cor. xv. 3-7. In this passage the ap
pearances of the risen Christ to persons other than Paul are
reviewed in an extended list, and Paul distinctly says that this
formed a part of his first preaching in Corinth. So not even
the fact of the resurrection itself was supported solely by the
testimony of Paul. On the contrary, Paul was diligent in in
vestigating the testimony of others.
The first chapter of Galatians, therefore, bears a very differ
ent aspect when it is interpreted in the light of the other
Pauline epistles. Paul does not mean that all his information
about Jesus came from the risen Christ. In all probability,
Paul knew the essential facts in the life of Jesus even before he
became a Christian. Since he was a persecutor of the Church,
he must have had at least general information about its foun
der. The story of the life and death of the Galilean prophet
must have been matter of common knowledge in Palestine.
And after the conversion, Paul added to his knowledge. It
is inconceivable that during the brief intercourse with Peter,
for example, the subject of the words and deeds of Jesus
was studiously avoided. Such an unnatural supposition is by
no means required by the actual phenomena of the epistles.
That has been demonstrated above. The true reason why
Paul does not mention his knowledge of the life of Jesus as
part of the basis of his faith, is that for him such factual
knowledge was a matter of course. For us it is not a matter

564 JESUS AND PAUL
of course, because many centuries stand between us and the
events. For us, painful investigation of sources is necessary
in order that we may arrive even at the bare facts. Indeed,
it is just the facts that need to be established in the face of
the sharpest criticism. But for Paul, the facts were matter of
common knowledge; it was the interpretation of the facts
which was in dispute. Paul was living in Jerusalem only a
very few years at the latest after the crucifixion of Jesus. The
prophet of Nazareth had certainly created considerable stir in
Jerusalem as well as in Galilee. These things were not done
in a corner. The general outlines of the life of Jesus were
known to friend and foe alike. Even indifference could
hardly have brought forgetfulness. But Paul was not indiffer
ent. Before his conversion, as well as after it, he was in
terested in Jesus. That was what made him the most relent
less of the persecutors.
The bare facts of the earthly life of Jesus did not, therefore,
constitute in Paul's mind a " gospel ". Everyone knew the
facts — the Pharisees as well as the disciples. The facts could
be obtained through a thousand channels. Paul did not reflect
as to where he got them. Before the conversion, he heard the
reports of the opponents of Jesus, and the common gossip of
the crowds. After the conversion, there were many eye-wit
nesses who could be questioned — perhaps in Damascus and
even in Arabia as well as in Jerusalem. It never occurred to
Paul to regard himself as a disciple of the men who merely re
ported the facts, any more than the modern man feels a deep
gratitude to the newspaper in which he reads useful informa
tion. If that particular paper had not printed the news, others
would have done so. The sources of information are so numer
ous that no one of them can be regarded as of supreme im
portance. For us, the sources of information about the life
of Jesus are limited. Hence our veneration for the Gospels.
But Paul was a contemporary of Jesus ; the sources of his in
formation about Jesus were so numerous that they could not
be counted.
Thus, when Paul says that he received his gospel from the
risen Christ, he does not mean that the risen Christ revealed
to him the facts of the life of Jesus. He had known the facts

JESUS AND PAUL 565
before — only they had filled him with hatred. What he re
ceived at his conversion was a new interpretation of the facts.
Instead of continuing to persecute the disciples of Jesus, he
accepted Jesus as living Lord and Master. Conceivably, the
change might have been wrought through the preaching of the
disciples; Paul might have received his gospel through the
ministrations of Peter. But such was not the Lord's will.
Suddenly, on the road to Damascus, Jesus called him. Paul
had heard, perhaps, of the call of the first disciples; he had
heard of those who left home and kindred to follow the new
teacher. He had heard only to condemn. But now it was his
turn. Jesus called, and he obeyed. Jesus, whom he knew only
too well — destroyer of the Temple, accursed by the law, cruci
fied, dead and buried — was living Lord. Jesus called him. —
called him not merely to revering imitation of the holy martyr,
not merely to a new estimate of events that were past, but to
present, living communion with himself. Jesus himself, in
very presence, called him into communion, and into glorious
service. That, and that only, is what Paul means when he says
that he received his gospel not from man but by revelation of
Jesus Christ.
Neither by Paul himself, therefore, nor by the original apos
tles was Paul regarded as an innovator with reference to
Jesus. On the contrary he regarded himself and was regarded
by others as a true disciple. The presumption is that that
opinion was correct. For both Paul himself, and the early
Christians with whom he came into contact were contempor
aries of Jesus, and had every opportunity to know him. If
Paul had detected any fundamental divergence between his
own teaching and that of Jesus of Nazareth, then he could not
have remained Jesus' disciple. Unless, indeed, the conversion
was supernatural. But the conversion was not supernatural if
it left Paul in disharmony with Jesus. For it purported to
be wrought by Jesus himself. If supernatural, the conversion
could not have left Paul in disharmony with the historical
Jesus, because it was wrought by an appearance of Jesus;
if not supernatural, it would have been insufficient to make
Paul regard himself as a disciple of one with whom he did
not agree. That the original apostles had every opportunity

566 JESUS AND PAUL
for knowing the historical Jesus requires no proof. Yet un
doubtedly they accepted Paul as a disciple.
The presumption thus established in favor of regarding Paul
as a true disciple of Jesus could be overthrown only by posi
tive divergence, established by an actual comparison of Jesus
with Paul. At the very outset of such comparison, a serious
difficulty is encountered. How is Jesus to be investigated?
Paul we know, but what is the truth about Jesus? It will
not do, it is said, to accept the Gospel picture in its entirety.'
For the Gospels were written after Paul, and have been
affected by Pauline thinking. To a certain extent, therefore,
it is no longer the historical Jesus which the Gospels describe,
but the Pauline Christ. To compare Paul with the Gospels,
therefore, is to compare not Paul with Jesus, but Paul with
Paul. Naturally the comparison establishes coincidence, not
divergence ; but the result is altogether without value.
This objection was applied first of all to the Fourth Gospel.
The Fourth Gospel was written undoubtedly many years after
the Pauline Epistles. And undoubtedly it exhibits a remark
able harmony with Pauline thinking. The Pauline Christ is
here made to appear even in the earthly life of Jesus. In
this respect, it is said, the Gospel is more Pauline than Paul
himself. Paul had done justice to the human life of Jesus by
distinguishing sharply between the humiliation and the exalta-*
tion of Christ. Jesus had become Son of God in power only at
the resurrection. In the Fourth Gospel, on the other hand, the
heavenly Christ appears in all his glory even on earth. Fur
thermore, the new birth of Jno. iii is identical with the
Pauline conception of the new life which the Christian has by
sharing in the death and resurrection of Christ. Even the
Pauline doctrine of the sacrificial death of Christ, though not
prominent in the Fourth Gospel, appears in such passages as
Jno. i. 29 and iii. 14, 15.
The objection could be overcome only by an examination
of the Fourth Gospel, which would far transcend the limits of
the present discussion. The Fourth Gospel will therefore here
be left out of account. It should be remarked, however, in
passing, that dependence of the Fourth Gospel upon Paul has
by no means been proved. A far-reaching similarity in ideas

JESUS AND PAUL 567
may freely be admitted. But in order to prove dependence,
it is necessary to establish similarity not only of ideas, but
also of expression. And that is conspicuously absent. Even
where the underlying ideas are most clearly identical, the
terminology is strikingly different — and not only the bare
terminology but also the point of view. The entire atmos
phere and spirit of the Fourth Gospel is quite distinct from
that of the Pauline Epistles. That is sufficient to disprove the
hypothesis of dependence of the Gospel upon Paul. The un
derlying similarity of thought, when taken in connection with
the total dissimilarity of expression, can be explained only by
dependence upon a common source. And that source can
hardly be anything but Jesus Christ.
Provisionally, however, the Fourth Gospel will be left out of
account. That can be done with the greater safety, because it
is now universally agreed that the contrast between the Fourth
Gospel and the Synoptics is not an absolute one. The day is
past when the divine Christ of the Gospel of John could be
confronted with a human Christ of Mark. Historical students
of all shades of opinion have now come to see that Mark as
well as John (though, it is believed, in a lesser degree) pre
sents an exalted Christology. The charge of Pauline influence,
therefore, has been brought not only against John, but also
against the earlier Gospels. Hence, it is maintained that if
Paul be compared even with the Jesus of the Synoptics, he is
being compared not with the historical Jesus, but with a Paul-
inized Jesus. Obviously such comparison can prove nothing.
If the Synoptic Gospels were influenced by Paul, then there
is extant not a single document which preserves a pre-Pauline
conception of Christ. That is a very remarkable state of
affairs. The original disciples of Jesus, those who had been,
intimate with him on earth, those from whom the most authen
tic information might have been expected, have allowed their
account of the life of Jesus to be altered through the influence
of one who could speak only from hearsay. Such alteration
would certainly fall within the lifetime of many of the eye
witnesses. For the Gospel of Mark is generally admitted to
have been written before 70 A.D. It is conceivable that the
Pauline conception might thus have gained the ascendancy

568 JESUS AND PAUL
over the primitive conception. But it is hardly conceivable that
it could have done so without a struggle, and of struggle there
is not a trace. In the supposed Pauline passages in the
Synoptic Gospels, the writers are quite unaware that one con
ception is being replaced by another. And the Pauline Epistles
themselves, as has already been observed, presuppose a sub
stantial agreement between Paul and the Jerusalem Church
with regard to the person of Christ. This remarkable ab
sence of struggle between the Pauline conception and the primi
tive conception can be explained only if the two were essen
tially the same. Only so could the Pauline conception have
been accepted by the Jerusalem Church, and permitted to domi
nate subsequent Christianity. This conclusion is supported by
the positive evidence, which has recently been urged, for ex
ample by Harnack, for a pre-Pauline dating of the Synoptic
Gospels — that is, for dating them at a time when the Pauline
Epistles, even if some of them had already been written, could
not have been collected, and could not have begun to dominate
the thinking of the Church at large. The affinity between the
Christology of Paul and the Jesus of the Synoptic Gospels
does not prove the dependence of the Gospels upon Paul. For
the Christology of Paul was also, in essentials, the Christology
of the primitive Christian community in Jerusalem.
The transition from the human Jesus to the divine Christ
must be placed therefore not between the primitive church and
Paul, but between Jesus and the primitive church. A man,
Jesus, came to be regarded as a divine being, not by later
generations, who could have been deceived by the nimbus of
distance and mystery, but almost immediately after his death,
by his intimate friends, by men who had seen him subject to all
the petty limitations of daily life. Even if Paul were the first
witness to the deification of Jesus, the process would still be
preternaturally rapid. Jesus would still be regarded as a
divine being by a contemporary of his intimate friends — and
each deification would be no mere official form of flattery, like!
the apotheosis of the Roman emperors, but would be the ex
pression of serious conviction. The process by which the
man Jesus was raised to divine dignity within a few years of
his death would be absolutely unique. That has been recog-

JESUS AND PAUL 569
nized even by men of the most thorough-going naturalistic
principles. The late H. J. Holtzmann,2 who may be regarded
as the typical exponent of modern New Testament criticism,
admitted that for the rapid apotheosis of Jesus, as it appears
in the thinking of Paul, he was unable to cite any parallel in
the religious history of the race. In order to explain the
origin of the Pauline Christology, Bruckner and Wrede have
recourse to the Jewish Apocalypses. The Christology of Paul
was formed, it is said, before his conversion. He needed only
to identify the heavenly, preexistent Christ of his Jewish be
lief with Jesus of Nazareth, and his Christology was complete.
But that explanation does not help matters. Even if it be ac
cepted to the fullest extent, it explains only details. It explains
why, if Jesus was to be regarded as a divine being, he was re
garded as just this particular kind of divine being. But it
does not explain how he came to be regarded as a divine being
at all. And that is what really requires explanation. One
might almost as well say that the deification of a man is ex
plained if only it be shown that those who accomplished such
deification already had a conception of God. The apotheosis
of Jesus, then, is remarkable, even if it was due to Paul. But
it becomes yet a thousand fold more remarkable when it is
seen to have been due not to Paul, but to the intimate friends
of Jesus of Nazareth. Indeed, the process is so remarkable
that the question arises whether there is not something wrong
with the starting-point. The end of the process is fixed. It
is the super-human Christ of Paul and of the primitive church.
If, therefore, the process is inconceivable in its rapidity, it is
the starting-point which becomes open to suspicion. The start
ing-point is the purely human Jesus. A suspicion arises that
he never existed. If indeed any early Christian extant docu
ment gave a clear, consistent account of a Jesus who was
nothing more than a man, then the historian might be forced
to regard such a Jesus as the starting-point for an astonish-
2 In Protestantische Monatshefte, iv (1900), pp. 465 ff., and in Christliche
Welt, xxiv (1910), column 153. Holtzmann is careful to observe that it
is only apparent uniqueness and not actual uniqueness that he admits.
There may be a parallel, but it has not come under his observation. In
view of Holtzmann's learning, the significance of the admission remains.

570 JESUS AND PAUL
ingly rapid apotheosis. But as a matter of fact, no such
document is in existence. Even those writers who represent
Jesus most clearly as a man, represent him as something more
than a man, and are quite unconscious of a conflict between the
two representations. Indeed the two representations appear as
two ways of regarding one and the same person. If, therefore,
the purely human Jesus is to be reconstructed, he can be re-
cpnstructed only by a critical process. That critical process, in
view of the indissolubly close connection in which divine and
human appear in the Synoptic representation of Jesus, becomes,
to say the least, exceedingly difficult. And after criticism has
done its work, after the purely human Jesus has been in some
sort disentangled from the ornamentation which had almost
hopelessly defaced his portrait, the critic faces another prob
lem yet more baffling than the first. How did this human
Jesus come to be regarded as a super-human Jesus even by
his most intimate friends? There is absolutely nothing to
explain the transition except the supposed appearances of the
risen Lord. The disciples had been familiar with a Jesus who
placed himself on the side of man, not of God, who offered
himself as an example of faith, not as the object of faith.
And yet, after his shameful death, this estimate of his person
suddenly gave place to a vastly higher estimate. That is bare
supernaturalism. It is supernaturalism stripped of that har
mony with the laws of the human mind which has been pre
served even by the supernaturalism of the Church. In its
effort to remove the supernatural from the life of Jesus, mod
ern criticism has been obliged to heap up a double portion of
the supernatural upon the Easter experience of the disciples.
If the disciples had been familiar with a supernatural Jesus —
a Jesus who forgave sin as only God can, a Jesus who offered
himself not as an example of faith but as the object of faith,
a Jesus who substantiated these his lofty claims by wonderful
command over the powers of nature — then conceivably, though
not probably, the impression of such a Jesus might have been
sufficient to produce in the disciples, in a purely natural way,
the experiences which they interpreted as appearances of the'
risen Lord. But by eliminating the supernatural in the life
of the Jesus whom the disciples had known, modern criticism

JESUS AND PAUL 571
has closed the way to this its only possible psychological ex
planation of the Easter experience. In order to explain the
facts of primitive Christianity, the supernatural must be re
tained at least either in the life of Jesus of Nazareth or else
in the appearances of the risen Lord. But of course no one
will stop with that alternative. If the supernatural be accep
ted in either place, then of course it will be accepted in both
places. If Jesus was really a supernatural person, then his
resurrection and appearance to his disciples was only what was
to be expected ; if the experience of the disciples was really an
appearance of Jesus, then of course even in his earthly life he
was a supernatural person. The supernaturalism of the Church
is a reasonable supernaturalism ; the supernaturalism into which
modern criticism is forced in its effort to avoid supernatural
ism, is a supernaturalism unworthy of a reasonable God. In
order to explain the exalted Christology of the primitive
church, either the appearance of the risen Christ or the Easter
experience of the disciples must be regarded as supernatural.
But if either was supernatural then there is no objection against
supposing that both were.
The similarity of the exalted Christology of the Synoptic
Gospels to the Christology of Paul is therefore no indication
of dependence upon Paul. For the Christology of Paul was
in essence the Christology of the primitive church; and the
Christology of the primitive church must have found its justi
fication in the life of Jesus. Furthermore, comparison of
Pauline thinking with the teaching of Jesus in the Synoptic
Gospels will demonstrate that the harmony between Jesus and
Paul extends even to those elements in the teaching of Jesus
which are regarded by modern criticism as most character
istic of him. For example, the fatherhood of God, and love
as the fulfilling of the law. The conception of God as father
was known, it is true, in pre-Christian Judaism. But Jesus
brought an incalculable enrichment of it. And that same
enrichment appears in Paul in all its fulness. In the earliest
extant epistle (1 Thess. i. 1) and throughout all the epistles,
the fatherhood of God appears as a matter of course. It
requires no defence or elaboration. It is one of the common
places of Christianity. Yet it is not for Paul a mere matter

572 JESUS AND PAUL
of tradition, but a vital element in his religious life. It has
not, through familiarity, lost one whit of its freshness. The
cry, " Abba, Father ", comes from the very depths of the
heart. Hardly less prominent in Paul is the conception of
love as the fulfilling of the law. " The whole law is fulfilled
in one word, even in this, ' Thou shalt love thy neighbor as
thyself.' " " And if I bestow all my goods to feed the poor,
and if I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it
profiteth me nothing." In the epistles, it is true, Paul is
speaking usually of love for Christian brethren. But simply
because of the needs of the churches. The closeness of the
relationship with fellow-Christians had sometimes increased
rather than diminished the tendency towards strife and selfish
ness. The epistles are addressed not to missionaries, but to
Christians of very imperfect mold, who needed to be ad
monished to exhibit love even where love might have seemed
most natural and easy. On account of the peculiar circum
stances, therefore, Paul speaks especially of love for fellow-
Christians. But not to the exclusion of love for all men.
Never was greater injustice done than when Paul is accused of
narrowness in his affections. His whole life is the refutation
of such a charge — his life of tactful adaptation to varying con
ditions, of restless energy, of untold peril and hardship. What
was the secret of such a life ? Love of Christ, no doubt. But
also love of those for whom Christ died — whether Jew or
Greek, circumcision or uncircumcision, barbarian, Scythian,
bond or free.
The fatherhood of God, it is true, does not mean for Paul
that God is pleased with all men, or that all men will receive
the children's blessing. And Christian love does not mean
obliteration of the dividing line between the Kingdom and the
world. But these limitations appear at least as clearly in
Jesus as in Paul. The dark background of eternal destruction,
and the sharp division between the disciples and the world are
described by Jesus in far harsher terms than Paul ever ven
tured to employ. It was Jesus who spoke of the outer darkness
and the everlasting fire, of the sin that shall not be forgiven
either in this world or in that which is to come ; it was Jesus
who said, " If any man cometh unto me, and hateth not his

JESUS AND PAUL 573
own father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren
and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my dis
ciple." These examples might be multiplied; and they should be
supplemented by what has been said above with regard to
Paul's appreciation of the character of Jesus. Jesus of Naz
areth, as he is depicted for us in the Gospels, was for Paul
the supreme moral ideal. But that does not make Paul a
disciple of Jesus. Be it spoken with all plainness. Imitation
of Jesus, important as it was in the life of Paul, was over
shadowed by something else. All that has been said about
Paul's interest in the earthly life of Jesus, about his obedience
to Jesus' commands, about his reverence for Jesus' character,
cannot disguise the fact that these things for Paul are not
supreme. Knowledge of the life of Jesus is not for Paul an
end in itself but a means to an end. The essence of Paul's
religious life is not imitation of a dead prophet. It is com
munion with a living Lord. In making the risen Christ, not
the earthly Jesus, the supreme object of Paul's thinking, mod
ern radicalism is perfectly correct. Paul cannot be vindicated
as a disciple of Jesus simply by correcting exaggeration. —
simply by showing that the influence upon him of the teach
ing and example of Jesus was somewhat greater than has been
supposed. The true relationships of a man are to be de
termined not by the periphery of his life, but by what is cen
tral — central both in his own estimation and in his influence
upon history. But the centre and core of Paulinism is not
imitation of the earthly Jesus, but communion with the risen
Christ. It was that which Paul himself regarded as the very
foundation of his own life. "If any man is in Christ, he is a
new creature." " It is no longer I that live, but Christ that
liveth in me." It was that which planted the Pauline gospel
in the great cities of the Roman Empire; it was that which
dominated Christianity, and through Christianity has changed
the face of the world.
The tremendous difference between this communion with
the risen Christ and mere imitation of the earthly Jesus has
sometimes been overlooked. In the eagerness to vindicate
Paul as a disciple of Jesus, the essential feature of Paulinism

574 JESUS AND PAUL
has been thrust into the background. It is admitted, of course,
that in Paul's own estimation the thought of Christ as a divine
being, now living in glory, was fundamental. But the really
important thing, it is said, is the ethical character that is at
tributed to this heavenly being. Paul's heavenly Christ is the
personification of self-denying love. But whence was this
attribute derived? Certainly not from the Messiah of the
Jewish Apocalypses. For he is conceived of as enveloped in
mystery, as hidden from the world until the great day of his
revealing. The gracious character of Paul's heavenly Christ
could only have been derived from the historical Jesus. Per
haps directly. The character of the historical Jesus, as it was
known through tradition, was simply attributed by Paul to the
heavenly being with whom Jesus was identified. Or perhaps
indirectly. The heavenly Christ was for Paul the personifica
tion of love, because Paul conceived of the death of Christ as
a supreme act of loving self-denial. But how could Paul con
ceive thus of the death of Christ? Only because of the lov
ing spirit of Jesus which appeared in the disciples whom Paul
persecuted. It was therefore ultimately the character of the
historical Jesus which enabled Paul to conceive of the cruci
fixion as a loving act of sacrifice ; and it was this conception of
the crucifixion which enabled Paul to conceive of his heavenly
Christ as the supreme ideal of love. Of course, for Paul, ow
ing to his intellectual environment, it was impossible to submit
himself to this ideal of love, so long as it was embodied merely
in a dead teacher. The conception of the risen Christ was
therefore necessary historically in order to preserve the prec
ious ideal which had been introduced into the world by Jesus^
But we of the present day can and must sacrifice the form to
the content. The glorious Christ of Paul derives the real
secret of his power over the hearts of men not from his glory,
but from his love.
Such reasoning ignores the essence of Paulinism. It re
presents Paulinism as devotion to an ideal. If that were
granted, then perhaps all the rest might follow. If Paulinism
is simply imitation of Christ, then perhaps it makes little differ
ence whether Christ be conceived of as on earth or in heaven,
as a dead prophet or a living Lord. Past or present, the ideal,

JESUS AND. PAUL 575
as an ideal, remains the same. But Paulinism is not imitation
of Christ, but communion with Christ. That fact requires no
proof. The epistles are on fire with it. The communion is,
on the one hand, intensely personal — it is a relation of love.
With Christ Paul can hold colloquies of the most intimate
kind. But, on the other hand, the communion with Christ
transcends human analogies. The Lord can operate on the
heart and life of Paul in a way that is impossible for any
human friend. Paul is in Christ and Christ is in Paul. The
relation to the risen Christ is not only personal, but also re
ligious. But if Paulinism is communion with Christ, then
quite the fundamental thing about Christ is that he is alive.
It is sheer folly to say that this Pauline Christ-religion can be
reproduced by one who supposes that Christ is dead. Such a
one can envy the poor sinners in the Gospels who received
from Jesus healing for body and mind. He can admire the
great prophet. When, alas, shall we find another like him?
He can envy the faith of others. But he cannot himself be
lieve. He cannot hear Jesus say, " Thy faith hath made
thee whole. "
When Paulinism is understood as fellowship with the risen
Christ, then the disproportionate emphasis which Paul places
upon the death and resurrection of Christ becomes intelligi
ble. For these are the acts by which fellowship has been estab
lished. T6 the modern man, they seem unnecessary. By the
modern man fellowship with God is taken as a matter of
course. But only because of an imperfect conception of God.
If God is all love and kindness, then of course nothing is' re
quired in order to bring us into his presence. But Paul would
never have been satisfied with such a God. His was the awful,
holy God of the Old Testament prophets — and of Jesus. But
for Paul the holiness of God was also the holiness of Christ.
Communion of sinful man with the holy Christ is a tremen
dous paradox, a supreme mystery. But the mystery has been
illumined. It has been illumined by the cross. Christ forgives
sin not because he is complacent towards sin, but because of
his own free grace he has paid the dreadful penalty of it.
And he has not stopped with that. After the cross came the
resurrection. Christ rose from the dead into a life of glory

576 JESUS AND PAUL
and power. Into that glory and into that power he invites
the believer. In Christ we receive not only pardon, but new
and glorious life.
Paul's interpretation of the death and resurrection is not
to be found in the words of Jesus. But hints of it appear,
even in the Synoptic discourses. " The Son of man came not
to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a
ransom for many" (Mk. x. 45). Modern criticism is in
clined to question the authenticity of that verse. But if any
saying of Jesus is commended by its form, it is this one. The
exquisite gnomic form vindicates the saying to the great
master of inspired paradox. Even far stronger, however, is
the attestation of the words which were spoken at the last
supper. Indeed these are the most strongly attested of all
the words of Jesus; for the Synoptic tradition is here sup
plemented by the testimony of Paul ; and the testimony of Paul
is also the testimony of the tradition to which he refers. That
tradition must be absolutely primitive. But the words which
Jesus spoke at the last supper designate the death of Jesus as
a sacrifice. And why should the idea of vicarious suffering be
denied to Jesus ? It is freely accepted for his disciples and for
Paul. They interpreted the death of Jesus as a sacrifice for
sin, because, it is said, the idea was current in Judaism of that
day. But if the idea was so familiar, surely Jesus was more
susceptible to it than were his disciples. They had an external
conception of the Kingdom, he regarded the Kingdom as
spiritual ; they exalted power and worldly position, he insisted
upon self-denial. Was it then the disciples, and not Jesus,
who seized upon the idea of vicarious suffering? Surely if
Jesus anticipated his death at all, he would naturally regard
it as a sacrificial death. And to eliminate altogether Jesus'
foreknowledge of his death involves extreme skepticism.
Aside from the direct predictions, what shall be done with Mk.
ii. 20 : " But the days will come when the bridegroom shall be
taken from them, and then will they fast in that day " ? If
Jesus expected the Kingdom to be established before his death,
then he was an extreme fanatic, who could not even discern
the signs of the times. The whole spirit of his life is op-

JESUS AND PAUL 577
posed to such a view. Even during his life, Jesus was a suffer
ing servant of Jehovah.
Nevertheless, the teaching of Jesus about the significance
of his death is not explicit. It resembles the mysterious inti
mations of prophecy rather than the definite enunciation of
fundamental religious truth. That fact must be admitted ; in
deed, it should be insisted upon. The fundamental Pauline
doctrine — the doctrine of the cross — is only hinted at in the
words of Jesus. Yet that doctrine was fundamental not only
in Paul, but in the primitive church. Certainly it has been
fundamental in historic Christianity. The fundamental doc
trine of Christianity, then, was not taught definitely by Jesus
of Nazareth. As a teacher, therefore, Jesus was not the found
er of Christianity. He was the founder of Christianity not be
cause of what he said, but because of what he did. The
Church revered him as its founder only because his death was
interpreted as an event of cosmic significance. But it had
such significance only if Jesus was a divine being, come to
earth for the salvation of men. If Jesus was not a super
natural person, then not only Paulinism but also the whole of
Christianity is founded not upon the lofty teaching of an in
spired prophet, but upon a colossal error.
Paul was a disciple of Jesus, if Jesus was a supernatural
person; he was not a disciple of Jesus, if Jesus was a mere
man. If Jesus was simply a human teacher, then Paulinism
defies explanation. Yet it is powerful and beneficent beyond
compare. Judged simply by its effects, the religious experience
of Paul is the most tremendous phenomenon in the history of
the human spirit. It has transformed the world from darkness
into light. But it need be judged not merely by its effects. It
lies open before us. In the presence of it, the sympathetic ob
server is aghast. It is a new world that is opened before him.
Freedom, goodness, communion with God, sought by philoso
phers of all the ages, attained at last! The religious experi
ence of Paul needs no defense. Give it but sympathetic atten
tion and it is irresistible. But it can be shared as well as ad
mired. The relation of Paul to Jesus Christ is essentially
the same as our own. The original apostles had one element
in their religious life which we cannot share — the memory of

578 JESUS AND PAUL
their daily intercourse with Jesus. That element, it is true,
was not really fundamental, even for them. But it appears to
be fundamental; our fears tell us that it was fundamental.
But in the experience of Paul there was no such element. Like
ourselves he did not know Jesus upon earth — he had no
memory of Galilean days. His devotion was directed simply
and solely to the risen Saviour. Shall we follow him? We
can do so on one condition. That condition is not easy. To
fulfil it, we must overcome our most deep-seated convictions.
We must recognize in Jesus a supernatural person. But un
less we fulfil that condition, we can never share in the relig
ious experience of Paul. When brought face to face with the
crisis, we may shrink back. But if we do so, we make the
origin of Christianity an insoluble problem. In exalting the
methods of scientific history, we involve ourselves hopelessly
in historical difficulty. In the relation between Jesus and Paul,
we discover a problem, which, through the very processes of
mind by which the uniformity of nature has been established,
forces us to transcend that doctrine — which pushes us relent
lessly off the safe ground of the phenomenal world toward the
abyss of supernaturalism. — which forces us, despite the resis
tance of the modern mind, to make the great venture of faith,
and found our lives no longer upon what can be procured by
human effort or understood as a phase of evolution, but upon
him who has linked us with the unseen world, and brought us
into communion with the eternal God.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH GOD
OF ISRAEL
Isaiah xliv: 24-28
Oswald Thompson Allis

I. — Preliminary remarks. — The problem of the Cyrus Prophecy.
II. — Hebrew Metrics. — Textual Criticism based on metrical considera
tions. — The Qina-poem of Budde and Cheyne and its defects.
III. — The numerico-climactic structure of the poem. — Its basis in the
theme and argument, viz. chronological arrangement, progressive
definiteness, Cyrus the climax. — The irregularities of the Qina-
poem reviewed and explained.
IV. — The Purity of the Text. — Established by the perfect preservation
of the Poem.
V. — Climax as a feature of Hebrew Poetry, the two kinds of climax —
The double climax in this poem.
VI. — The date. — Arguments for the Isaianic authorship, based on the
structure and argument of the poem.
VII. — Concluding remarks.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH GOD
OF ISRAEL1
It is a fact too generally recognized to require proof, that the
Isaianic authorship of the Cyrus Prophecy (Is. xliv. 28-xlv. 7)
is regarded as impossible or at any rate as highly improbable by
many scholars of widely differing shades of theological opin
ion. That this should be the contention of antisupernaturalistic
thinkers is only to be expected, for as Bredenkamp has well
said, " From a critical standpoint which denies prophetic pre
science and reduces it to premonition or conjecture the book
of Isaiah must a priori be regarded as an anthology in which
utterances of writers of very different periods have found a
place." 2 But it must be recognized that there are scholars
who believe in miracle and prophecy and in the pronounced
supernaturalism of revealed religion who are yet unable to be
lieve that the Cyrus prophecy of the restoration was uttered
at a time when the captivity itself lay yet a century or more
in the future, at a time when haughty Babylon had been hum
bled almost to the dust by her all but invincible Assyrian
neighbor, and when the Persians were known to history, if
indeed they were known at all, only as one of the many bar
baric or semi-barbaric Aryan tribes, some of which yielded
an unwilling homage to the warrior king of Assyria.3 Not
1 The writer wishes to acknowledge indebtedness for valuable suggestions
to Dr. John D. Davis ; and also to Drs. R. D. Wilson and J. Oscar Boyd.
2 Bredenkamp, Der Prophet Jesaia (1887).
"According to Ed. Meyer (Encycl. Brit, nth ed. art. "Persis"), who re
gards as untenable the view that the Parsua of the inscriptions are to be
identified with the Persians, the latter are nowhere mentioned until the time
of Cyrus. This statement of the case is not strictly correct even if Prof.
Meyer's view regarding the Parsua be accepted — and we will not enter
upon a discussion of that point — unless it can be proved that by Paras
(D13 ) in Ezek. xxvii. 10, Persia is not meant and for such a contention
there is in our opinion no adequate basis.

582 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
merely do they assert that there is practically no parallel in the
Old Testament for so remarkable a prophecy as this would
necessarily be if regarded as an Isaianic utterance.4 But they
tell us furthermore that the prophecy shows unmistakable in
dications of exilic composition, that " Cyrus is mentioned as
one already well known as a conqueror ",5 that " unless he had
already appeared and was on the point of striking at Babylon
with all the prestige of unbroken victory a great part of
xl.-xlviii. would be unintelligible ".6
It is safe to say that to all students of the Old Testament
whose theism is thoroughgoing enough to admit that Isaiah
could and did foresee the rise and fall of Babylon and a
Babylonian captivity of his own people (xiii.-xvi.23, xxi.
1 -10, 39), the strongest evidence which can be advanced
in favor of the late date of this prophetic utterance is the
" internal evidence ", the evidence that the prophecy itself
shows indications of exilic composition. External evidence in
support of late date is scarcely to be found.7 The most that
the advocates of late date can do is to seek, as does, for ex
ample, G. A. Smith, to find reasons to justify the rejection of
the external evidence in favor of Isaianic authorship. Their
own case they must prove if it is to be proved at all, on the
basis of " internal evidence ".
Owing to the definiteness with which this prophecy speaks
of Cyrus and of the restoration it has been cited more fre
quently perhaps than any other as requiring exilic dating.
The admission of this contention involves necessarily the ques-
" The " Josiah prophecy ", uttered by the unnamed prophet of Judah dur
ing the reign of Jeroboam (1 Kings, xiii) is, in respect of definiteness and
perspective, strikingly parallel to the " Cyrus prophecy ", regarded as an
Isaianic utterance. But the tendency in " critical circles " is to regard the
former as largely if not entirely Deuteronomic (using the term in the
sense given to it by the " critics ") in origin and to empty it of much if
not all of its prophetic significance.
" Skinner, Isaiah in the Cambridge Bible Series.
" G. A. Smith, Article " Isaiah " in Hastings' Bible Dictionary.
'The claim that Isa. xl.-lxvi. shows traces of literary dependence on
post-Isaianic writers, e. g. Jeremiah, is very precarious, since in instances
of this kind it is rarely possible to show conclusively on which side the
alleged dependence lies.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 583
tion of the relation in which this exilic passage stands to the
larger context of which it forms a part. This question has
been answered in two ways. It is argued on the one hand
that it is a later addition to an Isaianic document (Interpolation
Hypothesis) ; on the other hand it is affirmed or rather as
sumed that it is an integral part of the document and as such
may be regarded as furnishing a legitimate criterion for ascer-1-
taining the date of the whole, or at least of a large part of
xl-lxvi. (Deutero-Isaianic Hypothesis).
To discuss these two hypotheses as fully as they deserve
would carry us too far afield, since it is impossible to esti
mate them justly in their bearing upon the Cyrus prophecy
without considering more or less fully their bearing upon the
whole " Book of Consolation " and even upon the entire book
of Isaiah. Suffice it to say that while in the one the question
of the authenticity of the allusion to Cyrus as a part of the
prophecy and of the prophecy itself as a constituent part of ther
Latter Part of the Book of Isaiah occupies a very prominent
place, in the other this question is, at the outset at least, scarcely
raised, the acceptance of the integrity of the record, of the
genuineness of the passages which seem most clearly exilic,
making the argument for the late date doubly strong.8 These
rival hypotheses set forth the two great problems involved in
the investigation of the Cyrus prophecy, viz., its unity and
integrity and the date of its composition.
8 It should be remarked, of course, at this point that, although the advo
cates of the latter hypothesis, far from finding any dogmatic objection to
the integrity of the Cyrus prophecy, as part of an exilic document, find in
it a strong argument for the late date of the chapters of which it forms a
part, this hypothesis has at the same time long ceased to stand for the
integrity and unity of chaps, xl.-lxvi. as constituting such an exilic docu
ment. Deut.-Isa. is now limited to about one half (chaps, xl.-lv., Duhm,
Marti) or one third (chaps, xl.-xlviii., Cheyne) of the whole, and it is
regarded by Cheyne, Duhm and Marti as very extensively interpolated.
So, although in 1839 Havernick was able to cite such champions of this
hypothesis as Gesenius, De Wette, Rosenmiiller and Hitzig, as affirming
the unity of authorship of the Book of Consolation, in the opinion of
many of the present advocates of this view, this group of prophecies is
rather to be regarded as a " prophetic anthology ". Marti goes so far as
to call the book of Isaiah " a little library of prophetic writings ". And
as we shall see presently, the " Metricists " have not shown any hesitancy in

584 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
It is the purpose of this article to ascertain whether the
claim that the Cyrus prophecy, either in whole or in part,
shows indications of exilic composition is as well grounded as
the frequent assertions to that effect would seem to indicate.
As will appear in the course of the discussion, the poetical form
of a part of the prophecy, viz., xliv. 24-28, has a very import
ant bearing upon both of the questions at issue. And it is to
this feature, therefore, that we will devote the chief attention.
Hebrew Metrics and the Qina Arrangement of Is. xliv.
24 (23) -28 Proposed by Budde and Cheyne
While the rare poetic beauty of many portions of the Old
Testament not included in the so-called poetical books has al
ways been more or less recognized — how could any apprecia
tive and careful reader fail to recognize it in a book so mark
edly poetic as, for example, the Book of Consolation! — and
while many attempts have been made to solve the problem of
Hebrew Poetry, it is only within a comparatively short time,
within, we may say, the thirty years which have elapsed since
Julius Ley published his Hebraische Metrik that much has been
accomplished in the way of opening up what, as Grimme re
marks, is usually regarded as an especially " slippery " field.9
These investigations have proved that Hebrew poetry was
accentual and not quantitative, that the character of the verse
was determined primarily by the number of accents which it
contained and that the ratio between accented and unaccented
syllables was not a matter of no consequence but had certain
more or less clearly defined limits. The prominent role of the
caesura has been recognized and various metrical forms have
been distinguished. There is considerable difference of opin
ion, however, in regard to a number of important questions
e. g. the limits of the foot, if we may use the word to desig-
altering the text on the basis of metrical considerations. Consequently
it would be a very mistaken notion to suppose that the advocates of the
Deut.-Isa. hypothesis are defenders of the integrity or unity of this group
of prophecies.
'H. Grimme, Grundziige der heb. Akzent- und Vokallehre, S. 58
" dieses als besonders schliipfrig verschrieene Gebiet (d. h. der biblischen
Metrik)"

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 585
nate an accented syllable together with the unaccented sylla
bles which are connected with it,10 accent elision, which occurs
especially frequently with monosyllabic words or stat. const.
complexes, double accent of polysyllabic words, the shifting of
the accent and the problem of the strophe — these are some of
the questions which have still to be more thoroughly investi
gated. Furthermore the question to what extent the metres
were uniform, to what extent irregular or mixed is unsettled.
Even more unsettled is the question as to the degree in which
10 Sievers (Metrische Studien) finds the most usual feet ^,»xi which
may be modified to x ij"x and xx &*, respectively. (N.B. x represents the un
accented syllable and j. the accented, while S~i represents the simple ac
cented syllable j. replaced by an accented syllable .5 immediately followed
by an unaccented syllable belonging to the same foot.) But he also
.regards j. and x x x ± and their modifications, i. e., Sx and xjfx^Tl as ad-
missable though less frequent forms, i. e., the number of unaccented syl
lables may vary from none to four. (Cf. Sievers' Metrische Studien, p.
¦99, § 71 > 3, Die normalste Form des heb. Vers fusses ist dreisilbiges xx j.
bez. dessen Auflosung (§ 19) *xi» ; doch konnen daneben infolge andrer
Phasierung auch einfaches j. , ferner ,x ± und x x x.i nebst deren Auflos-
ungen auftreten.) Sievers has approached the subject primarily from
the standpoint of Phonetics and Metrics. Ley laid emphasis upon the
character of the Heb. syllable and the law of ascent (das Gesetz der
Ascendenz, Abstufung), according to which the character and position
of a syllable determines whether it is accented or unaccented. He recog
nized five syllable gradations, the highest being the syllable which regu
larly receives the main accent, the lowest the syllable with the half vowel
(vocal shewa). Since the law of accent as defined by him required that
within the foot, there be always progress upward, it is consequently clear
that, according to his view, a foot could not exceed five syllables in length.
(Were a syllable followed by another of a lower instead of a higher
grade, it must be accented.) It usually consisted of less than five and Ley
recognized that it might consist of a single accented syllable unaccom
panied by unaccented syllables. He also recognized the legitimacy of the
frequently occurring unaccented syllable after the accent which he calls
'" Tonfall ", and which appears, as we have seen, in Sievers ' modified
foot ', as well as the fact that the inseparable prepositions, the conjunction
waw and a number of short words, prepositions, etc., are used proclitically
and have no accent. And he also perceived that the character of a line,
light or sonorous, joyous or sad, is largely determined by the ratio of the
unaccented to the accented syllables. In view of these facts it is clearly
¦unjust when Sievers (Metrische Studien, p. 45, § 58), who in the main
shows great readiness to recognize the value of Ley's investigations, states
that, according to the view held by Ley and his followers, " the Hebrew

586 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
the prose literature of the Old Testament especially the " Latter
Prophets " may be regarded as metrical. David Hcinrich
Miiller11 finds in them a very marked strophical but no metri
cal form. That there is an epic poetry in Hebrew in which, in
contrast e. g. to the lyric, the rigid parallelismus membrorum
need not be present was recognized by Ley, thus widening the
conception of Hebrew poetry to include more than the pre-
ponderatingly lyric poetry of the " Poetical Books ", and is
more fully appreciated to-day. But the extent of this epic
poetry as well as of the lyric in these books is still very far
from being definitely settled. A passage which one scholar
would treat as poetry in the strict sense, another may regard
as merely an example of lofty and what we may call poetic
prose. In view of these facts the according of an important place
to metrical considerations in the treatment of questions involv
ing Textual Criticism is ill-advised and unfortunate.12 The
verse consists of a number of accented syllables (Anzahl von Hebungen)
which further can be surrounded fairly ad libitum with a varying number
of unaccented syllables ". The limits of Ley's foot are practically the
same as those of Sievers, as far as the number of admissible syllables is
concerned and the data just given which are based on Ley's own state
ments show clearly that the arrangement of said syllables was fully as
rigidly controlled in Ley's scheme as it is in Sievers'.
11 Die Propheten in ihrer urspriinglichen Form. Wien, 1896.
"Grimme (cf. Abriss der bib. heb. Metrik, ZDMG. 50, 529) considers
this the main purpose of metrical study, as compared with which the more
perfect appreciation of the beauty of a poetical passage which naturally re
sults from a thorough understanding of its metrical form is a secondary
consideration. Marti feels "that the surprising help in healing and re
storing the text which comes from giving heed to metre and strophe
makes it impossible to doubt that in the accepting of both, we have to do
with no fiction.'' He regards them indeed as not inferior to the witness
of the ancient versions. But he says : " in detail it must be admitted that
much which concerns metrics is still uncertain." Cheyne remarks, (cf. The
Book of Isaiah in Hebrew, pg. 78 in the Sacred Books of the Old
Testament series), "among the grounds of alterations those which
have regard to metre and rhythm can no longer be neglected, especially
in view of the present stage of cuneiform research." This latter
statement is a little hard to understand. If Cheyne means by it that the
prominence of metrical questions at present is due to the advance made in
the Assyrian field, the statement is opposed by the facts. Ley and Sievers

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 587
" metricist " often attempts to alter the text to suit a certain
metrical scheme, when the fact that it does not readily admit of
such an arrangement should rather be taken as an indication
that the metrical scheme is either itself at fault or at any rate
not applicable to the passage to which he wishes to apply it.
attacked the problem entirely without reference to Assyrian ; Ley from the
standpoint of the " old Germanic accented poetry " and Sievers who is
Professor of Phonetics in Leipzig, from the standpoint of metrics and
rhythm and it was only after he had developed his system for Hebrew
poetry that he applied it at the suggestion of Prof. Zimimern to Assyrian.
Grimme has devoted especial attention to Syriac metrics but not to
Assyrian and further claims to be primarily a disciple of Ley. Budde,
the discoverer of the Qina- Verse, whose theory is described in Gesenius-
Kautzsch (Gesenius, Hebrew Grammar, 26th ed. by Kautzsch, Engl. ed. by
Collins and Cowley, § 2, r.) as " the only sound one " shows nowhere
dependence on the Assyr. Bab. Instead he regarded the fact that the
Qina verse early lost its distinctive character, being found in passages
which are in no sense dirges (Qina), (according to Grimme, Budde has
reversed matters, the Qina verse being but a special application of the
more widely applicable pentameter line) an argument for the antiquity of
the verse form and he considered it pre-Davidic. That the discovery of a
similar accentual poetry in Assyr.-Bab., more especially the finding of sev
eral tablets in which the words of the poems are arranged in columns
seemingly with reference to the metrical form (cf. Zimmern & Scheil), is a
valuable confirmation of the results already independently obtained in the
Old Testament field is clear. But it cannot be claimed that our knowledge
of Hebrew Metrics is in any special sense the result of or dependent upon
" cuneiform research ". If, on the other hand, as is more probable, Cheyne
means that the predominantly poetical form of the religious literature of
the Babylonians necessitates the assumption that a large part if not all
of the prophetic literature of the OT. must have originally partaken of
the same poetical character, this is an assertion which must be proved.
If the " Prophets " show the same or similar forms, well and good. This
does not prove that they are Babylonian and not merely Semitic forms,
and, even granted that they are originally Babylonian, this proves nothing
with regard to the date of their appearance in Hebrew literature. (Zim
mern tells us that the religious hymns of the Babylonians which show the
Babylonian metres in their purest form remained for 3000 years practically
the same. Consequently they could have been known to Abraham when he
lived in Ur of the Chaldees.) If, on the other hand, they do not show the
same metres, or if no metre is distinguishable, the attempt to force prose
passages into Bab. metres can only proceed from and be justified by that
" panbabylonianistic " tendency, which seeks to deny to the Jews all
initiative and independence.

588 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
Such a procedure at once raises the question of the validity
of textual emendation on the basis of purely metrical con
siderations,13 whether the aim be to restore an original poem
the mutilated remains of which are clearly discernible, so we
are told, in the Massoretic Text, or to arrange a prose passage
in the metrical form, which it must have had, they argue, be
cause of the analogy of the religious literature of the Baby
lonians, or for some other reason of a similar character.
In 1892, Budde, the discoverer of the " Qina" 14 measure,
defended his method, which involves textual emendation,
against the objections raised by " a most distinguished "
scholar, whose name he did not state, who objecting to Budde's
method declared " least of all can I grant permission to under
take the altering of the text, on the basis of a presupposed
Qina-verse theory ", as follows : " Under no circumstances do
I start out with the intention of forcing any passage into the
Qina-verse mould. On the contrary the study of the verse is
always the first thing, and only when the data thus ob
tained preponderate for a certain compass," [i. e., when a
majority of the lines have been shown to be Qina], " do I de
cide to lay hold of it. But then I can not relinquish the sec
ond prerogative which is gladly conceded in dealing with other
passages ;15 viz. to undertake textual emendations, not on the
basis of a presupposed Qina-verse theory, but on the basis of
the evidence of an intended use of the verse, in order to
restore to its rights as far as is possible that which was in
tended by the poet." A praiseworthy aim certainly! But
we may ask does the presence of a preponderance of what may
13 It is to be observed that we are not here discussing the Interpolation
Hypothesis, which for reasons already indicated regards the allusion to
Cyrus an interpolation, but a very different question, viz., whether purely
metrical considerations can of themselves prove textual corruption or
justify textual emendation.
"The Qina line is pentameter and has the caesura after the third foot
so that the line falls apart into two members, the first, which is the longer
having three accents, the second but two. The occurrence of this measure
in a large portion of the Book of Lamentations has given rise to the
name Qina, i. e. lamentation (nyp) verse.
10 The reference here seems to be to lyric passages, since the other objec
tion of the " distinguished unknown " is to the application of a lyric
measure to non-lyric passages.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 589
be regarded as Qina lines in a given passage establish beyond
peradventure the fact that a Qina poem is " what was intended
by the poet " ? Can Budde or anyone else be positive that in
making alterations he will merely be restoring the poet to his
rights and not rather giving him what he feels were or ought
to have been his rights, and there is no small difference be
tween the two.
We are prepared to test the validity of Budde's method in
general, the permissability of textual emendation on the basis
of purely metrical considerations by considering its applica
bility to the Cyrus Prophecy, xliv. 24-28. This we may do the
more readily in view of the fact that it is one of fifteen pas
sages of varying length in the second half of Isaiah which
were cited by Budde in 1891 (ZATW. xii. II. 234 ff), as
requiring the Qina verse form and his arrangement in a some
what modified form is adopted by most critics at the present
time. This arrangement will be found on the opposite page.
According to Budde's count this passage is composed of
fourteen lines, only four of which are " damaged ", i. e. non-
Qina lines, nearly three fourths of the poem being in and of
itself Qina. Lines 5 and 6 consist of three half lines in
stead of two whole lines. Line 9 has a word too many and
line 10 lacks a second member. In line 9 he proposed the
reading "and his counsel (IDXJJI)" as a substitute for the
reading of the Massoretic Text " and the counsel of his mes
sengers (TON'Vd nxj?1)". But in line 10 he confined himself to
calling attention to the fact that in the second reference to
Jerusalem (line 14) the reference to the Temple supplies the
second member while in the first reference (line 10) a second
member is lacking.
According to Budde's method as explained by himself this
poem must therefore have been originally a Qina poem since
more than a majority of its lines are in his opinion Qina lines
and therefore alterations with a view to " restoring the poet
to his rights " are fully warranted. Other scholars (Cheyne,
Duhm, Marti) have attempted a more thorough restoration
than Budde, though along the same general lines. These
scholars consider the first member of line 14, i. e. the second
reference to Jerusalem, which has been already referred to, a

BUDDE'S QINA ARRANGEMENT OF ISAIAH XLIV. 23-28.

Sing, heavens, for-hath-done (-it) Jehovah
Break-forth-into singing, mountains
For-redeemed-hath Jehovah Jacob
Thus-saith Jehovah thy-redeemer
S I-am Jehovah that-maketh all (-things)
That-spreadeth-abroad the-earth who-was with-me
That-frustrateth signs of -liars
That-turneth wise-men backward
That-confirmeth the-word of-his-servant
10 That-saith of-Jerusalem she-shall-be-inhabited
And-of-the-cities of -Judah they-shall-be-built
That-saith to-the-Deep: be dry!
That-saith of-Cyrus my-shepherd (-is-he)
Even-to-say of-Jerusalem she-shall-be-built.

shout lower-parts of (-the) -earth16
forest and-every-tree-in-it
and-glorified-himself in-Israel
and-thy-fashioner from (-the) -womb
that-stretcheth-forth heavens alone"
and-diviners he-maketh-mad
and-their-knowledge he-maketh- foolish
and-his-counsel he-performeth18
kl. : ^ . .
and-her-waste-places I-will-raise-up
and-thy-rivers I-will-make-dry
and-all-my-pleasure shall-he-perform
and-(of-the-) Temple: thy-foundation-shall-be-laid

18 In this translation the hyphens indicate that words so joined together
represent a single word or at least a single accent in the Hebrew, since it is
impossible to make a literal translation (i. e., word for word in the exact
sense of the phrase) which would be intelligible.
11 Budde merely states that the second half of verse 24 consists of three
verse members of equal length representing originally (?) two Qina lines,
but does not say whether he prefers to read 1  as above, or ;
19 In the original " and-the-counsel of-his-messengers ".

a - -
b -

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 591
corrupt repetition of the first member of line 10, and they feel
that the second member of line 14 really belongs to line 10.
Consequently by rejecting the first part of line 14 as spurious
and restoring the second member to its original (?) position
as the second member of line 10 the latter is " healed " and the
poem merely loses half a line.19 The reducing of the second
member of line 9 from three to two words is accepted. And
thus from line 7 on they obtain a perfect Qina poem. But
they find it much more difficult to account for the three mem
bers of lines 5 and 6, which should be represented by two Qina
lines. It is possible to treat them as ij^ Qina lines,20 but
difficult to get two full lines without making additions to the
text. Cheyne thinks that in view of its extra length line6 —
he adopts the second arrangement given on pg. 590 (note 17)
— may be regarded as making up for the shortness of the pre-
ceeding line, which in his arrangement seems clearly to need
a second member. Duhm suggests the following arrangement :
I-am Jehovah that-maketh-all that-stretcheth-forth heavens
Alone, spreading-out the-earth who-was with-me21
12 Marti thinks that the "he performeth" (oStr ) of line 9 (v. 26a) was
taken over from line 13 and therefore, although rejecting it in line 9 as a
corruption, reading with Duhm and Cheyne " and the counsel of his
messengers " (tjkSd nvjN ) in preference to the emendation proposed by
Budde, he feels justified in inserting after line 9, line 14, i. e. line 14b,
since line 14a he regards as a corruption of 10a.
20 " That-stretcheth-forth heavens" ( D'DW HO: ) can probably be in
cluded under a single accent, although it would naturally require two. The
same is true of " who (was) with me " (TiX 'D) (if the Qre " by-myself "
were adopted, more than one accent would be impossible) . The member
scans well either way. Rokd' ha' ares mi' itti = 4 accents ( «ai»;«i) a
perfectly uniform measure, or rokd' ha'dres m? itti = 3 accents (nxii x
Sx ) the accent receding in pause and the " mi " losing its accent in
view of the accented syllable which thus immediately follows.
21 ent? HQJ ^3 7\Vp niiT 'DJK
'nt* 'n p«n j/pn "D1?
Duhm also emends " and of the cities of Judah " ( rniiT n^Sl ) v. 26 to
read " and of the ruins of the land " ( HOIK "J*1?! ) declaring, " in the third
'long verse'" [i. e., line 11 of Budde's poem, the third line of the second
strophe according to Cheyne, Duhm and Marti] " the LXX has 'ISovpjxlas
instead of 'lovSalas; the HD1K which lies back of it is better than the
Judah which is derived from C 40, 9 ; since the suffix of rrnmn clearly
refers to it. Further the changing of ny into "y cannot be avoided, as

592 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
But, as Cheyne argues, the placing of the adverb at the begin
ning of the second line is inadmissable. And at best the
arrangement is forced and awkward and would do little credit
to the poet although it technically fulfils the requirements of
a Qina line. Cheyne, Duhm and Marti further find the be
ginning of the poem or strophe, not at verse 23 but at verse
24 and Cheyne considers verse 23 which consisted according
to Budde of three Qina lines, (the " long verse " of Duhm) to
be composed rather of six short or single member lines and
in either case it must be admitted that they are somewhat ir-
the latter harmonizes better with the second half of the line, especially with
the singular suffix, than does the ny which draws upon itself the accent
which belongs to mnx ". An investigation of the usage of the LXX
makes it clear that in substituting max for miiT on the basis of the
LXX, Duhm has not only overstated the facts ( ISovpalas is only found in
Cod. B.) but has also drawn conclusions from them for which there is
very little warrant. The facts are these: i) A number of instances can be
cited where proper names are confused and interchanged in the versions.
In Hatch and Redpath's Concordance seven other instances are given where
in one or more of the Codices 'ISovpala renders another proper name of
somewhat similar sound, in six instances it is as here miST in one Duma
Similarly four instances are given where 'ISovpala in the Greek represents
another proper name in the Hebrew, showing that proper names are occa
sionally confused. 2) na"IK is, on the other hand, accurately rendered.
Only two cases are cited by Hatch & Redpath where it was confused with
other words. In Neh. ix. 1 it is rendered " ashes ", evidently because the
preceeding word is " sackcloth ", which suggests the common phrase " sack
cloth and ashes". In Isaiah xv. 9 it is rendered "ASapja (Admah). If
by this word DIN (Edom) is meant, we have here one instance in more
than one hundred where ilDIK and DtK were confounded. A confusion
is natural in this instance in view of the mention of Petra (Sela) in the
next verse. In Isaiah xliv. 26 on the contrary an allusion to Edom is
most inappropriate and, had the original word been rtDlN, there is every
reason to suppose that it would have been rendered " land ". The natural
explanation of the occurrence of 'ISovpala in B is " confusion of proper
names " and the best codices of the LXX as also the Syr., the Latin and
the Targum of Jonathan support the rnifT of the Hebrew text. Retain
ing, therefore, as we have every reason for doing, the reading "Judah",
we are entirely justified in retaining the reading "cities", "cities of
Judah ", a phrase which is clearly parallel to the word " Jerusalem " in the
first member. That the singular pronoun " her-waste-places " is an indi
cation of corrupt text, cannot be argued, since this pronoun may find its
antecedent in "Judah" or even in "Jerusalem".

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 593
regular, (the first line being 4-3, not 3-2). If the first three
lines of Budde's poem are rejected as at least questionable, (and
at any rate a new paragraph begins more naturally at verse 24
than at verse 23), and if the fourteenth line despite the fact
that it is pentameter (Qina) is sacrificed for the purpose of
restoring the incomplete tenth line a fairly good Qina poem
(see next page22) of two strophes of five lines each is obtained,
a poem reconstructed out of a mutilated poem of eleven lines,
five lines of which were in need of alteration29 and two lines of
which remain imperfect if with Cheyne we reject Duhm's
forced and awkward construction for lines 2 and 3. In other
words of these eleven lines only six have been preserved in their
original form and five need amending in order that the original
form of the poem may be obtained. And he who will by this
method " restore the poet to his rights " must argue that six out
of eleven lines, a scant majority, prove that the Qina form was
the one originally intended by the writer.
22 This is primarily a translation of Cheyne's arrangement of the Hebrew
Text as given in the Book of Isaiah in Hebrew. His translation in the
" English Polychrome " has been consulted and followed fairly closely.
But the translation has been modified at several points with a view to mak
ing the poetic structure as plain as possible in the English. His Hebrew
Text is as follows (several pointings and diacritical marks are here omit
ted) : jtaaD "p^l T?K3 mm 1DK TO
?3 rwy mm "ojn
tin •¦a y^<n j>pn I'pb n^atr/ ntoi
^im D^aDpi D'na mn« -iso
hx* Dnjni mm* D-'aan a^a
ton^o nxj;i "nay ~fri wpn
[io\r\ b^rrb-)] atf/in rbvrvb *ia«n
DDipK mmaim nroan miff •nj;i?i
ts^aiK 't^"1™1 ^"V n^ "10kSn
why* '•ssn "wi **jn tania1? laxn
22 Viz. lines 2 and 3, which, according to Budde, are three half lines where
we would expect two whole lines, line 6b which has been reduced from a
three accent to a two accent member, and line 7 which is made up of two
imperfect lines, viz., 7a and what would otherwise be line lib (Budde's
line 14b).

CHEYNE'S ARRANGEMENT OF ISAIAH, xliv. 24-28?

Thus-saith JHVH thy-redeemer,
I-am JHVH, who-wrought-everything,
Who-stretched-forth the-heavens, alone,
Who-brings-to-naught the-omens of-the-imposters,
5 Who-turns the-wise backward,
Who-ratifies the-word of-his-servants,24
Saying of-Jerusalem : Be-it-inhabited !
And-of-the-cities of- Judah : Let-them-be-built !
Who-says to-the-flood : Be-dry !
10 Who-says of-Cyrus : My-friend27(-is-he),

and-thy-fashioner from-the-womb :
who-spread-forth the-earth — who-was with-me? — "
and-the-diviners he-makes-mad,
and-their-knowledge he-makes-folly,
and-the-prophecy of-his-messengers,2"
and (-of)-the-Temple: Be-thy-foundations-laid! M
and-her-desolations I-will-raise-up ;
and-thy-rivers will-I-parch-up ;
and-all-my-purpose will-he-accomplish.2*

23 Cheyne prefers the Kthibh. For his explanation of the extra length
of this line cf. pg. 591.
24 He prefers to read " his servants ", a defectively written plural.
20 Cf. p. S9i.
28 Cf . p. 589 bot.
27 Reading 'in instead of 'jn.
29 Cf . p. 589 bot.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 595
Notwithstanding the serious difficulties connected with its
application, the view that the Qina arrangement of this poem is
the true one seems to have been very favorably received in
" critical circles ", cf., e. g., the recent commentaries of Box
and Glazebrook. But we are justified none the less in
raising the question whether the inference drawn from the
presence of 6 Qina lines in a 10 line poem (if the seventh Qina
line, line 14 of Budde's poem, be used to restore a mutilated
line it must be itself treated as corrupt) or, according to Budde,
of 10 Qina lines in a 14 line poem that the whole poem must
originally have been Qina is so compelling as to warrant
attempts at restoration? We have examined the alterations
which have been proposed and find that except for one line
the redacted poem (cf. Cheyne's arrangement) may be called
a Qina poem. But it is well to remember that these textual
alterations are made largely if not entirely independently of
and without the support of the ancient versions. In so far then
as they may claim warrant at all for these alterations it
must be found in the evidence that the Qina form was intended.
And despite the " majority of Qina lines " we are prepared to
assert that the inference drawn from them that the poem was
originally Qina is not warranted in view of the number of
lines which can only with more or less difficulty be redacted
into the Qina form.
The Numerico-Climactic Arrangement and the Argu
ment of the Poem
Let us begin with verse twenty-four and analyze the para
graph for ourselves. The first line, " Thus saith Jehovah thy
redeemer and thy fashioner from the womb " which has the
Qina form is clearly introductory to the brief emphatic dec
laration " I am Jehovah " ( mm "OiK )• This declaration is
followed by nine participial clauses of varying length, which,
while all depending upon and qualifying it directly, at the same
time form three distinct groups. The first group is composed
of three single member lines each of which begins with a
qal participle. The second group consists of three two member
lines, the first members being introduced by hiph'il participles

596 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
and the second members being joined to the first by " and "
(waw conj.) and ending with finite verbs. The third group
consists of three lines which average three members each, the
first members in every case being introduced by the formula
"that saith of (or to)" (b lawi), each subsequent member
being joined in the preceding by "and (or even)" (waw
conj.) and ending with a finite verb, as in the second group.
Furthermore the second group possesses the distinctive feature
that in it the " person " of the narrative abruptly changes,
Jehovah instead of being the speaker as in the first and last
groups is spoken of objectively and the third person appears
in the three finite verbs of the second members and with special
prominence in the "his servant" (Tray) and "his messen
gers " ( TOK'ja ) of the third line. The reason for such a
change will appear later.
If we arrange the paragraph according to the scheme sug
gested by these outstanding features (cf. Plates I and II) it
is at once apparent that it has two very marked characteristics,
number and climax. The poem consists of three strophes of
three lines each, (numerical feature), while the element of
climax is obtained primarily through increasing the num
ber of members in the lines of each successive strophe, the
first strophe having one-member lines, the second two-member,
while the third strophe averages three three-member lines,
although an extra climax is obtained by lengthening the last
line at the expense of the one which precedes it. In this way
the two elements, number and climax, are interwoven (the cli
max involving the number three) and the result is a numerical
climax. This will be the more apparent perhaps if we treat
for a moment the single members as units, thus obtaining the
following numerical scheme :
m Here as in the Qina arrangements words joined by hyphens are to
be treated as having but a single accent. An effort has been made to
make the translation exhibit as clearly as possible the metrical form of
the poem— This applies especially to the end-members of the second
strophe— But although in the main the approximation is fairly close, a
perfect reproduction is of course unattainable.
21 Or " its foundation " if " Temple " is as some suppose construed
here as a feminine noun. [These two notes refer to Plate II].

Isaiah XLIV : 24-28
The numerico-climactic
structure of the poem

jtsao "px*i

"\b»i mn11 na« na

mm ¦ojn

otaipK mmanm

TDin ^m naan d^it1? ibk1?!

^im niaDpi
'jao1' onjni
nwan mim •njj'ri

na1? ow ntaj
ti« id pan j?pi
ana nins isd
mn« caan a^a
•nay nan D'po
atr/in d^it1? na«n
•o-in n'rut1? ibkh
»jn tsnia1? idkh

PLATE I.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 597
Strophe I

Strophe II

Strophe III

The progressive climax is very marked and is heightened by
the extra length of the last line of the third strophe. This
additional climax seems at first sight considerably discounted
by the shortness of the second line of the same strophe, which
is correspondingly weaker than the normal first line. But it
is to be observed that if the last line is to be strengthened with
out marring the numerical symmetry of the strophe as a whole,
this is the best way in which it can be accomplished.32 That
from the standpoint of the strophe the symmetry is maintained
is clear when we cast up the totals as follows :
Strophe 13 3
Strophe II 3 3 6
Strophe III 3 3 3s3 9
Consequently this departure from an absolute uniformity
which we find in the third strophe has this in its favor at the
outset that it does not mar the numerical symmetry of the
whole. And as we will now proceed to show, this seeming
irregularity is the result a second element of climax
which, less perceptible in the first two strophes of the poem,
makes itself all the more noticeable in the third.
We have assumed for the purpose of clearly exhibiting the
structural form of the poem that the units of which it is made
up, the single members, are uniform and have so treated them
22 That it would be better to weaken the second line than the first is clear,
since the first, as already remarked, gives the normal length of a 3rd
strophe line.
33 It is certainly permissable to derive this 3 from the 2 + 1 of the first
arrangement and, in any case, the totals for the strophes show a uniform
increase.

598 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
in the numerical scheme. This is only partially correct.
Eleven of the eighteen members which constitute the poem
have three accents (three words)34 each, all of the nine non-
end-members35 being three-accent members,36 a further appli
cation as it would seem of the numerical (triple) principle.
But there is a variation in the members of the first strophe and
in the end-members of the second which is of great significance
for the understanding of the variation in the position of the
members in the third strophe. This variation is quite marked
in the first strophe. The three members contain in all nine
words (nine accents) an average of three to a member as in
the first members of the other two strophes. But instead of a
uniform triplet of three-accent lines we find a two-, a three-,
and a four-accent line, i. e., speaking from the standpoint of
uniformity the first member has been shortened and the third
member lengthened to the extent of an accent, so that the
numerical form of the strophe counting accents only is 2, 3,
4, and should we disregard the verb in the count since it is a
constant factor, 1, 2, 3 which is the strophical climax in minia
ture. Furthermore the length of the last member is increased
by the presence of the article " the earth " ( pKH ).3T All of
34 We may use accent and word here interchangeably, since there are
no cases of double accent or accent elision present in the passage.
35 By this is meant of course members which do not stand at the end of
the line.
m In strophe III, line 3, member 2, the maqqeph of the massoretic point
ing should be removed, the correct reading being dSet 'Sfln bb) instead
of dSkt 'San _t7J1, i. e., three accents, not two.
37 It cannot be argued that usage favors this, since the concordance
shows that the article occurs with "heaven" (D'DtP) if anything more
frequently in proportion than with "earth" ('pN). Nor can the pres
ence of the article here be explained on the basis of metrical consider
ations. For although the insertion of the article before 'pK makes it
possible for the preceding word to be accented on the ultima and avoids
the necessity of the throwing back of its accent on to the penult, the
same would apply to the first line. And since there the accent is thrown
back, the line being made as it seems as short as possible, the inference
seems warranted that the adding of the article in the third line is in
tended to produce the opposite effect namely to lengthen the line. Nor
finally can it be argued that the purpose of the insertion of the article
is to avoid the cacophony resulting from the coming together of an

Thus-saith Jehovah thy-redeemer

I-am Jehovah

that-made all (-things)
that-stretched-out heavens alone
that-spread-out the-earth: who was-with-me

and-thy- fashioner from (-the) -womb

ISAIAH XLIV 24-28
The numerico-climactic
arrangement of the poem."'"

that-confoundeth (the-)signs of-liars
that-turneth wise-men backward
that-confirmeth the- word of-his-servant

and-vaticinators he-maketh-frenzied
and-their- wisdom he-maketh-folly
and-the-coimsel of-his-messengers he-performeth

that-saith of-Jerusalem she-shall-be-inhabited
that-saith to- (the-) Deep: dry-tip
that-saith of -Cyrus : my-shepherd (-is-he)

and-of-the-cities of -Judah they-shall-be-built
and-thy -rivers I- will-dry-up
and-all my-pleasure shall-he-perform

and-their- waste-places I -will-build-up

even-to-say of-Jerusalem she-shall-be-built

and(-of)-the-temple: thy-foundation-shall-be-laid-31

PLATE II.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 599
which goes to show that there is a marked climax within the
members of the first strophe and a decided heightening at the
end.38 The same climactic heightening in a slightly modified form
is characteristic of the end-members39 of the second strophe.
The first consists of two words (noun -f verb, two accents),
the second of two words (noun with pronominal suffix + verb,
two accents), the third of three words (noun in stat. cstr.-f-
noun with pronominal suffix + verb, three accents). This
heightening seems on the one hand closely parallel to that in
the first strophe except that here the second step is only the
addition of a pron. suffix, an addition which does not increase
the number of accents in the member, while in the first strophe
it is a noun which does. On the other hand, however, the sec
ond member of the second line is perceptibly shorter than the
second member of the first line (not merely as written, unless
both the vowels which are written fully in the former were
written defectively, but also as spoken it is slightly shorter, and
rhythmically lighter) while the third line is very considerably
longer than either of the others, three quarters as long as both
combined. Thus we notice a double climax in the second
Ayin and of an Aleph. For as Aleph and He are both gutturals it
hardly seems as if the Wohlklang would be materially increased in this
way. 38 It might even be argued that it furnishes a clue to the construction
of the poem as a whole, the lines of the first strophe losing the second
3 3 3
members and the lines of the third receiving them thus : 3 3 = 3 3
3 3 3 3 3
But this is perhaps too labored an explanation and it will be shown pres
ently that this triple climax has its basis in the argument of the poem.
33 The fact that there is no perceptible climax in the non-end-members of
the second and third strophes — all have 3 accents and the slight variation
in the length of the members, resulting from the difference in the length
of the words has no significance — has its natural explanation in the fact
that uniformity in these members gives an element of solidarity to the
poem, which is necessary if the climactic feature appearing in the end-
members is to be properly appreciated. It is this uniformity in the non-
end-members which is calculated to call our attention to the heightening
at work in the end-members, just as the figures in a bas-relief are all the
more striking because of the solid background from which they emerge.

6co THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
members of this strophe; in the one sense a progressive cli
max, similar to that in strophe I, even a heightened climax in
the last line, (for while, as has been indicated, the increase of
the second end-member over the first is only a pron. suffix
that of the third over the second is a whole word) ; in the
other sense, not merely a heightened climax in the third but
a slight weakening in the second. Consequently the second
strophe is clearly intermediate between the first and the third.
It shows elements of the uniform climax of strophe I and
at the same time prepares the way for the exceptional climax
of strophe III which as has already been pointed out is ob
tained through the weakening of the second line to allow for
the strengthening of the third. For what in the one takes
place in miniature, so to speak, within the limits of the end-
members, appears in the other, viz. in strophe III in a much
more pronounced form since the second line is weakened to
the extent of a whole member and the third strengthened to
the same extent, although the symmetry of the strophe viewed
as strophe, i. e. its numerical value, remains the same.
That this transposition of a whole member in strophe III
was intentional and not accidental is clear not only from the
facts just mentioned, namely that the symmetry is retained and
that this marked heightening in the last strophe is the result of
a heightening process at work in the whole poem which, at first
confined to the end-members, assumes larger proportions in
the last line of the last strophe, where if anywhere the greatest
climax might be expected, but also from the evident fact that
the end-members of strophe III were- intended by the poet
to be end-members. For it is to be observed that the end-
members of this strophe are all two-accent members, while all
the others have three accents. Various explanations of this
fact may be given40 but its meaning is evident. It tells
40 Probably the simplest explanation is that the writer has made use of
the law of catalexis, for the purpose of clearly marking the ends of these
lines (Catalexis is by no means rare in Hebrew poetry. According to Ley
it is one of the most usual ways of indicating the end of the strophe.
Duhm seems to regard the Qina (pentameter) line as catalectic Hexa
meter, but whether this is actually or merely theoretically correct may be
questioned.) A catalexis in the end-members of this strophe is further

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 601
us that the second member of the second line is an end-mem
ber, i. e. finishes the line, but just as clearly that the third
member of the third line does not complete that line. It is
completed by the fourth member which is an end-member.
In view of these facts it is impossible to assert that the second
line is incomplete or that its end-member was lost or ap
pended by mistake to the last line. The one has been in
tentionally shortened through the omission of a non-end mem
ber, the other intentionally lengthened through the insertion
of the same non-end member41 with a view to obtaining an
increased climax the elements of which appear in the preced
ing strophes.
The Argument of the Poem
If we turn now from considering the form of the poem to
an examination of its contents, it will be clear that the form
(the numerico-climactic scheme, which we have been discuss
ing) not merely in its more general features but even in its
minute details is in harmony with, may even be considered
but the outward expression of, the argument of the poem.
First let us consider the relation between the theme and the
numerical structure. . The theme of the poem is the " Trans
cendence of Jehovah " (I am Jehovah) as exhibited in the
catalogue of mighty deeds recorded in the nine participial
clauses which immediately follow. These are arranged stro-
favored by the following considerations. The introductory formula is
Pentameter, i. e., catalectic. The initial declaration " I am Jehovah "
( niiT '3JN ) is two-accent, so is also, for reasons already given, the first
member of the first strophe and the same feature appears in the first two
end-members of the second. Consequently uniformity would seem to
require that the first end-member of the third strophe should have but
two accents and, as the heightening process has in this strophe clearly
exceeded the confines of the end-members being produced by the trans
ference of a whole member from the second line to the third and as uni
formity in the end-members serves the important end just alluded to,
i. e., of designating the end-members as end-members, the catalexis, is
allowed to appear in all three end-members of this strophe.
"This applies, of course, merely to the form of the poem and not to
the argument, since from the latter standpoint one line is as perfect
as the other.

602 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
phically and topically in three groups. The first group
(strophe I) describes the work of Jehovah as creator. It
refers to events lying in the past. The second treats of the
attitude of Jehovah toward the longings, the efforts and
the pretentions of mankind to discern the future, to know
" the times or the seasons which the Father put in his own
power ". The answer is unequivocal — the future belongs to
God. He baffles every attempt to enter his domain and covers
the intruder with confusion. But just because it belongs to
him, he only can and does reveal its secrets and also bring to
pass all that he has revealed. As this is what may be called his
" fixed policy " it is true of the past and future as fully as of
the present. But the reference to " the servant " in the last line
together with the fact, which has been already mentioned,
that Jehovah is here referred to in the third person, suggests
at least that in it the speaker, who is as we shall see later
the prophet, refers to himself, and therefore that the refer
ence is more especially to present time.42 And the position
of this strophe — between a clearly past and clearly future
strophe — shows beyond reasonable doubt that in the scheme
of the poem it is to be regarded as a present strophe. At
the same time the fact that it has what we may call a backward
and a forward reference, fits it admirably to be the connecting
link between past and future43 and to show how closely and
intimately they are all bound together. The third declares
his purpose to deliver his people from captivity and to restore
them to their own land, and speaks exclusively of the future.
These data explain at once the meaning of the number three in
the metrical scheme. We have here no mysterious adumbra
tion of the Trinity, no dependence on the " trilogy arrange
ment " of the. Book of Consolation, advocated by Delitzsch.
42 We must not, however, lay too much stress upon the fact that " ser
vant " is singular, since it might be regarded as a " defectively written "
plural (cf. Cheyne's arrangement), although it is much more natural to
regard it a singular.
43 The " forward reference " is especially marked, since " the word of
his servant " seems to find its echo in the thrice repeated " that saith "
of the third strophe and to call attention at the very outset to its being
a prophecy.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 603
The number three is clearly the three of the ordinary cate
gories of time — past, present, future44 — and the prominence
of this number in the scheme is due to the prominence of the
chronological element in the poem and is intended to bring
this feature with unmistakeable clearness before the mind
and eye of the reader.
But not only does the recognition of the chronological ele
ment in the poem at once explain its numerical scheme it
explains the climactic feature as well. The reason is not far
to seek. It lies in the relative importance of these three cate
gories in general and in the special prominence of the third
category in this instance. Of the relative importance of these
categories to us as individuals it is hardly necessary to speak
since it is a fact of experience. The past is important. It is
the foundation upon which the present rests. But it is past.
We cannot recall it. We cannot re-live it. The best that we
can do is to learn from it and apply its lessons to the present
and the future. It is furthermore an historic past and though
44 It is interesting to note that this chronological element is recognized
to a considerable degree in the Peshito version. Thus the participles of the
first strophe are all rendered by the finite verb in the past tense ; the partici
ples of the second strophe by participles, but the first two finite verbs by
presents (i. e., by participles with appended enclitic pronoun) ; the partici
ples of the third strophe by perfects, as if to indicate that the decree is of
old, but the imperfect tenses with one exception by the imperfect (future).
It is also interesting to observe in this connection that in Jer. xliv., D. H.
"Miiller finds a poem in which there is a chronological, but not a climactic
form. He divides the chapter into three parallel columns, A, B and C, i. e.,
verses 2-6, 7-10, 11-14. Each of these columns he arranges in strophes of
the form 1 -f- 6 -f- 6, the 1 being in each case represented by the introduc
tory formula " Thus saith Jehovah of Hosts ", etc., in its varying forms.
Whether this strophical scheme can be accepted does not concern us par
ticularly. It is sufficient to note that in the original the three para
graphs are of nearly equal length. The important fact is that he finds
these three columns mutually parallel, while at the same time the chron
ological feature is prominent in each, the first treating of the past, the
second of the present, (notice the prominence of the "and now" (pinyi)
at the beginning of verse 7), the last of the future. This shows clearly
that, as a chronological poem, the Cyrus prophecy is not without analogy.
And even if Jer. xliv. be treated as simple prose (cf. Kittel's edition of the
Biblia Hebraica), it is an example of the application of the chronological
method to a carefully balanced discourse.

604 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
ofttimes we need guidance to read its lessons aright, it is in
a sense an open book accessible to all. For none but beings
incapable of reflection can be conscious of no past. The pres
ent is far more significant than the past for it is the time of
action and of actuality. It is truly but as a narrow strip of
land between two mighty oceans, but it is none the less " the
accepted time ". The " living " of a man is made up of a
fleeting succession of " nows " and they are in a very real
sense ' all that he has to face eternity with '. The past is
mighty but it is gone casting its mantle upon the shoulders of
the present and this present is as much mightier than the past
as " a living dog is mightier than a dead lion ". And yet the
present is but the threshold of the future — a future which
looms dim and mysterious, potent for weal or woe before
life's pilgrim. We act in the present but for the future. Our
planning, hoping, toiling is for the future. And why? Be
cause we are bound thither by the inexorable law of destiny.
Even the most thoughtless is sobered by the thought of this
" Great_ Unknown ". For though we should strive to think
of death as but a sleep, " yet in that sleep of death, what
dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
must give us pause ". The certainty of a future and the un
certainty of the future have tremendous significance for every
thoughtful man. It is the goal of the race and of the indi
vidual. Is it any wonder then that in every age, the man who
by wisdom or cunning, by fair means or foul could lift the
curtain of the future has been held in high esteem? Is it
any wonder that the office of the Hebrew prophet meant and
means to many merely that of a " predictor " ?
It is quite natural then that the writer of a chronological
poem such as we have found this to be should introduce the
element of climax to show the relative importance of these
three classes of mighty deeds. What we may call the normal
value or ratio of these three categories seems clearly given in
the normal climax 3, 6, 9, in which the three strophes are
composed of one-, two-, and three-member lines respectively.
This is the normal climax of the poem and may therefore be
said to represent the normal ratio between the categories of
time, i. e. the ratio, when there is no especial emphasis on the

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 605
events lying in the different categories, these being all of equal
intrinsic importance, the emphasis being primarily on the
category to which the events belong. Consequently we might
expect that the extraordinary importance of an event or
series of events lying in one of these categories might be indi
cated by, and consequently inferred from, an extraordinary
emphasis upon it, or speaking from the standpoint of the
metrical form, by an extraordinary climax at that point. In
the metrical form, we have found an additional climax within
the normal, a climactic process which reaches its height in the
third (future) strophe. Does this as well as the normal find
its explanation in the argument of the poem ? Let us examine
and see.
The first strophe has, as we have seen, three single-member
lines so constructed as to produce a uniform climax of the
form 2, 3, 4. The theme is the creative acts of Jehovah. In
the first line it is stated briefly and generally, " that made all
(things)" ( b$ nipy ). In the "all" the monergism is de
scribed in extenso. In the second the sphere is limited " that
stretched out heavens " ( D^Otf? ntM ) ; and the monergism is
explicitly expressed and emphasized by the addition of the
word " alone " or " by myself " (i~\2,b ) denying that he had a
co-worker. While in the third line, which speaks with still
greater definiteness of " the earth " (pKPl ) the monergism
is declared in the form of an almost contemptuous challenge
"who was with me?" ( TN ^D ) a challenge to man to deny
that God alone created this earth in which he lives, to deny
that God alone is great. In the increasing stress laid on the
monergism of Jehovah the theme of the strophe shows a
decided climax, together with, and the importance of this feat
ure will appear more clearly later, an element of increasing
definiteness (all, heavens, dearth).
The second strophe treats, with especial reference to the
present, what we may call the " future problem ", i. e. it
exposes the folly and futility of man's efforts or pretensions-
to discern the future as contrasted with the certainty of divine
revelation. Three instances likewise are cited. The first line
tells us that Jehovah "frustrateth the signs of liars and
maketh diviners mad ", i. e. those who defy his moral govern-

606 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
ment and try to discern the future by unlawful means are con
fused and confounded. Here the thought of open opposition
is strong. In the second line it is less apparent and may even be
said to disappear. " That turneth wise men backward and their
knowledge he maketh foolish ". " Those who in their wisdom
know not God" their wisdom is deception and folly. There is
not the same clearly marked opposition in case of the " wise
men" ( WtoX ) as in that of the "liars" ( Dna ) and "diviners
( CDDp ) and they are less severely dealt with. So this
second line seems weaker than the first. Yet in another sense
there is a slight advance corresponding to the slight advance in
metrical form. For while the " wicked " of the first line
seem to recognize supernatural power and agencies although
enemies of Jehovah, the " wise men " of the second line ig
nore him. Like the "fool", they have said in their heart, "there
is no God " : like the modern Positivist they have gotten beyond
the religious stage, an attitude which in some respects at
least is even more culpable than open opposition.43 The third
line " that confirmeth the word of his servant and performeth
the counsel of his messengers " stands in contrast to the first
two, the parallelism being antithetic. Jehovah overcomes op
position. True! But he also accomplishes his purposes.
What he has declared or declares through his servant and his
messengers, the prophets, shall surely be fulfilled. The climax
of this line is clearly indicated by the antithesis and by the
marked definiteness produced by the presence of the pronouns,
" his servant ", " his messengers ", as contrasted with the in-
definiteness of the first two lines. Thus the form and argu
ment of this strophe are in entire harmony, there being in
both a marked climax in the third line, and the second in the
argument as well as in the metrical form being both stronger
and weaker than the first.
The third strophe treats of the release and restoration. The
first line is a general prophecy — Jerusalem shall be again in
habited, the cities of Judah rebuilt and their desolation come
to an end. It is general and we may say corresponds more
43 That " wise '' and " knowledge " must have this significance is clear.
For it is only a knowledge which leaves God out of acount which is
condemned in Scripture. True wisdom is not only a priceless jewel, but
it is also only to be obtained from God.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 607
nearly to what we might a priori regard as the prophetic hori
zon of one who foresaw the exile as a certainty (xxxix. 5), the
fall of Babylon as well (xiii-xiv), and who like Paul was sure
that "God had not cast off his people" (cf. xxxv.)
than does the allusion to Cyrus in the last line. It speaks of
the future in general terms and in a general way. The
second line in what is probably its primary reference is even
less definite and distinctly figurative. The reference to the
"Deep" (Thy*) seems to refer back to the Red Sea and to
the wonders of the Exodus and to declare that this deliverance
will be analogous to that other, which marked such an epoch in
the history of God's people.46 It is possible, however, that this
figurative explanation of the word " Deep " does not exhaust
its meaning. While the view that it referred to the divert
ing of the Euphrates from its natural channel by Cyrus in
order to make possible the capture of Babylon (Herodotus)
can hardly be regarded as tenable at any rate in its older
form in view of the cuneiform records which have come to
light and indicate that Babylon, i. e., the city proper, offered no
resistance to Cyrus's army, there are fairly clear indications
that Babylon is here referred to, the chief difficulty being to de
termine the degree of definiteness which is to be assigned to
the allusion.47 The third and last line marks a decided advance
48 Such an interpretation is favored by Jeremiah's words in xxiii. 7-
8. To the returning exiles, this restoration shall mean more than the
other. Thus interpreted, this line is less definite than the preceding.
"This reference may be of a two-fold character. It may refer primarily
(a) to the geographical location of Babylon. This is favored by Isaiah
xxi. 1 where the judgment upon Babylon is introduced by the words,
" Burden of a desert sea ". That Babylon is intended is clear from verse
9, and it is highly probable that we are justified (cf. Bredenkamp, Nagels-
bach and Delitzsch) in connecting this enigmatical phrase with the name
of " Southern Babylonia " mat tamtim, i. e. " land of the sea " (cf., e. g.,
the Bab. Chronicle Col. 11 line 8). Just how much of Babylonia could be
called "mat tamtim", at this time it would probably be impossible to say.
But that, as a general and more or less poetic designation it might well
have been applied to Babylonia as a whole or to the city of Babylon is by
no means improbable. The fact that Merodach Baladan, who, at the time
at which he sent an embassy to Hezekiah, was king of Babylon, was orig
inally king of the sea-lands (mat tamtim) and that the Chaldean dynasty,
to which Nebuchadnezzar, the conqueror of Jerusalem, belonged came from

608 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
over the first, probably also over the second, and this advance is
in respect of definiteness, for it connects the indefinite prophecy
of line one, together with its continuation in lit?s two, with the
person of him who shall fulfil the same — Cyrus. Through the
Chaldea, i. e. from the sea-lands, makes such an allusion here and in xxi. i,
very appropriate. Franz Delitzsch, furthermore, found " desert sea ", an
especially apt description of the location of the city itself. " The elevation
on which Babylon stands is a " Midhbar ", a great plain which loses itself
to the S. W. in Arabia Deserta and is cut up to such an extent by
the Euphrates as well as by swamps and lakes that it swims as if in a
sea." There may be further (b) an allusion to the fact that the Babylon
ians took advantage of these physical conditions to make their city, Baby
lon, secure from attack, much as centuries later did the Low Countries in
their struggle with Spain. Thus Nebuchadnezzar II, in the so-called " East
India House Inscription ", in recording the mighty fortifications which he
built tells us (Col. vi. 39-46) "that no desperate (la babil panim, "no
respector of persons", Delitzsch) foe threaten the walls (sides) of Baby
lon, with mighty waters like the expanse of the sea, did I surround the
land, to cross which is like the crossing of the billowy sea, the great (?)
salt (? or bitter) sea (ia-ar-ri ma-ar-ti)". (Cf. Winckler's translation in
the Keilschriftliche Bibliothek) . The exact meaning of the last two words
is uncertain. Friedrich Delitzsch seeks to explain " Iarru" through the
Hebrew ix' (river), which is applied to the Nile and thinks " martu"
may be for " marratu" (bitter), cf. nar marratu, the name of the northern
end of the Persian Gulf. At any rate, it is clear that Nebuchadnezzar
aimed to render Babylon impregnable by means of an artificial lake or
something of the sort. We know also that more than a century earlier
Merodach Baladan sought ineffectually to defend Dur-Athara against
Sargon by piercing 'the dyke (?) of the river (canal?) Surappi ' and
placing the surrounding district under water, cf. further, the account of the
defense of Bit Jakin by the same monarch (Winckler's Sargon). A refer
ence to a recognized method of fortifying or defending cities in Baby
lonia would be very appropriate in a passage where the fall of Babylon and
the triumph of Jehovah's shepherd is predicted, and the sense of the pas
sage would be that all the defenses of Babylon, whether natural or arti
ficial, would be unable to check the victorious advance of the invader and
we have reason to believe that Babylon with the exception of the citadel
passed without bloodshed into the hands of the enemy.
If there were here a direct reference to Nebuchadnezzar's fortifications,
this second line would mark in definiteness a very decided advance upon
the preceding. It seems more probable, however, that the reference is
much more general, and it must be left an open question whether Babylon
is referred to at all, save in so far as Babylon was a second Egypt and
the restoration a second Exodus.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 609
mention of his name as Jehovah's shepherd, the one who shall
perform all his pleasure, the predicted restoration assumes
definite shape. The element of climax is found in the first part
of the line, in the mention of Cyrus, for the last two members
of the line as a matter of fact only repeat in a slightly more
definite form the prophecy of the first line. We have seen
that Cheyne, Marti and others regard the third member of
this line as a corrupt repetition of the first member of the first
line and in a sense they are right. It is a repetition but not
a corruption. The first line is a prophecy of the restoration
without reference to the release, the second of the release
without reference to the restoration. The third line discloses
the name of him who shall both release and restore, who shall
fulfil Jehovah's pleasure even to the extent of restoring his
people to their land and sanctioning the rebuilding of the
Temple. In form the last line is longer than the first, nearly
as long indeed as both of the lines which precede it taken to
gether (it has four members and the other two but five). In
argument it repeats the first, involves the second, and intro
duces an element of definiteness which is probably only dimly
and at any rate figuratively hinted at in the second. The
reference to Cyrus is consequently the climactic element in this
line. It is the mention of his name and the declaring that
he is the deliverer which is significant and which forms the
climax of the line, of the strophe and of the poem.
Jehovah and Cyrus. This is in a word the argument of the
poem and its structure shows us clearly the estimate which
we are to form regarding Cyrus and his mission. It makes
clear to us at once his greatness and his littleness. Great
ness: He is Jehovah's shepherd, Jehovah sends him to
perform his will. Jehovah heralds his coming as the
deliverer of his people and in xiv. 1 he gives to him that
name which is to be borne by a greater than he, one of
whom he is but a feeble type, who shall deliver Israel
from a more grievous bondage than that of Babylon and
shall fulfil Jehovah's pleasure not only for the chosen people
but for the whole world. Cyrus, his name, marks the begin
ning of a new epoch in history. And the progressive climax
of this poem exhibits admirably the significance of Cyrus

610 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
and his mission. Littleness : This utterance and the eight
which precede it, however important they may be in themselves,
are primarily but illustrations and proofs of the transcendent
greatness of Jehovah, of the supereminence of him who in-
habiteth eternity and before whom the vast universe, past,
present and future, is an open book, to whom "a day is as a
thousand years and a thousand years as one day ", to whom
" the nations are as the small dust of the balance ", and who
" doeth according to his will in the army of heaven and among
the inhabitants of the earth, and none can stay his hand or
say unto him, what doest thou?". He is Jehovah and beside
him there is none else and men and empires, Cyrus, Babylon
and Israel are but his agents, his instruments, pensioners upon
his bounty, creatures of his hand and he hath created them for
his glory. Consequently the poem may better be called : " The
Poem of the Transcendence of Jehovah " than the " Cyrus
Poem " or the " Cyrus Prophecy ". It contains, it is true, a
part of the Cyrus prophecy, a great and glorious declaration of
singular intrinsic importance, but the form of the poem makes
it clear that this prophecy is recorded primarily only as a unique
proof of the incomparable greatness of him who uttered it
through his servant. And it is only as we keep the logical and
poetical form of this declaration clearly in view that we are
able to appreciate its beauty or fully comprehend its meaning.
As a result, therefore, of our examination of this passage we
find not only a metrical scheme which shows exceptional evi
dences of design, but one which gives every indication of being
but the metrical expression of the theme of the poem. For the
poem despite the intricacy of its form cannot be considered
artificial since it is not forced into the scheme, but as we have
argued at length, is itself the basis of the scheme. A more
perfect correspondence it were hard to find and this corres
pondence should be in itself a sufficiently conclusive proof that
the arrangement proposed is the true one. For, be it re
membered, the metrical structure has been explained and the
correspondence between form and argument exhibited without
the altering of a single consonant of the Hebrew Text. It
would be hard to find stronger proof, that, to borrow the
words of Budde, this arrangement is ' the one intended by the

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 6ll
poet ' and that in arranging the poem according to this scheme
me have merely ' restored it to its rights '. That, on the
other hand, a Qina arrangement was not intended is clear
from the fact that the " corruptions of the text ", the presence
of which the advocates of this arrangement must recognize if
they would account for the imperfections of their poem, not
only occur exactly where we should expect a priori to find them
were the attempt made to alter, or we may now venture to say
" force " the poem into the Qina mould, but furthermore are
most naturally explained, we may even say, can only be ade
quately explained, as having their origin in this " forcing "
since these alterations are in the main neither based upon nor
supported by the witness of the versions.
In proof of this statement let us look again for a moment at
the scheme on Plates I. and II, and compare it with those of
Budde and Cheyne. The introductory line is pentameter
(Qina), as are also the first two lines of the second strophe.
The same is true of the last two members of the first line of the
third strophe, and of its second line, while the last line falls
apart readily into two Qina lines.48 But what is to be done with
the initial declaration " I am Jehovah " (mn"1 *OJK ), with the
three single-member lines of strophe I, with the extra accent in
the second member of the third line of strophe II, and with the
first member of strophe III line 1. Here is where according
to our arrangement a Qinaizing of the poem would come to
grief and here is exactly where the advocates of that arrange
ment find the original Qina poem mutilated. This residuum
is relatively small. But it stubbornly refuses to be Qinaised.
Could stronger proof be found in support of the statement
made after discussing the Qina arrangement that the presence
of a number of Qina lines can be recognized without the
inference being necessary that the poem as a whole is Qina?
" 'Sfln b3\ may, since the first word is monosyllabic, be readily included
under a single accent the more readily since the first word is in the con
struct state. The maqqeph shows that the Massorites pronounced them as
one. The general rule is, however, according to Sievers, that the nomen
regens retains its accent and, although he regards the loss of the accent
under these circumstances as perfectly proper, he seems to consider it the
exception (cf. Sievers, Hebrdische Metrik, §§ 158, 2; 160.)

612 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
Such an inference is on the contrary opposed by the minority
of non-Qina lines and it is only when they have been " si
lenced " that a unanimous verdict is possible. And further
more, we have seen that the metrical form of the poem — its
numerico-climactic arrangement — is derived from the chrono-
logico-climactic form of the argument. And it needs but a
moment's reflection to convince the reader that such an utter
ance as this could not in the very nature of the case find expres
sion in Qina-verse. The metrical form of any poem should be
in harmony with and should serve to exhibit and even to rein
force the theme or argument. This requirement is fulfilled
in the case of our poem by the numerico-climactic arrange
ment to a remarkable degree. We have seen that the
theme of the poem is the " Transcendence of Jehovah " as
it is tersely expressed in the words " I am Jehovah " (mrp 'OJN)
and that all the rest significant as it may be in itself derives its
true significance from its immediate dependence upon these
potent words. In the Qina arrangement, on the other hand,
these words which should stand out conspicuously and instantly
attract our attention lose their commanding place and become
part of a line and a mutilated or at any rate imperfect line at
that (cf. Budde's arrangement, also that of Cheyne) and the
immediate dependence of the participles upon them is very ser
iously obscured. While, as far as the relation of the nine utter
ances one to another, which as has been shown is exceedingly
important, is concerned, this arrangement fails to indicate or
recognize that they are not of equal length, but constructed
with a view to a carefully planned climax and through the at
tempt to make them uniformly symmetrical the significance of
the closing declaration is greatly impaired. Indeed through the
attempt to arrange these verses in the Qina form the force of
the argument is nearly as seriously impaired as is the symmetry
of the poem.
Budde in the article already cited (page 588) disclaimed any
desire to force matters. He claimed that his method was ob
jective based on the examination of the text and that he would
follow the method should it overthrow his whole theory.49
43 Cornhill, in his Introduction to the Old Testament (English edition,

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 613
We do not wish to question his entire sincerity in affirming this
but rather to call attention to the fact that his method, a
method which has gained very wide acceptance, is neither so
objective nor so certain as he believed. The reason is simply
that he and others who follow the same method have shown
themselves too ready to jump at conclusions, if we may be
pardoned for using so blunt an expression. They have found
here a passage which contains a number of pentameter lines
and they have concluded that it must have been a Qina poem
and that the non-Qina element therein contained is to be
attributed to textual corruption. Had they however attached
more significance to this minority of " irregular lines " they
might have perceived that it is the seeming irregularities in
this poem as Qina which show that it is not Qina. As long
as the irregularities are allowed to stand, the possibility is
always present that an arrangement may be found that will
as we have seen explain them. As soon as the critic resorts
to textual emendation, the irregularities are forced into con
formity and the dissenting voice is hushed. These scholars
aimed to " heal " a mutilated Qina poem. They have in
stead mutilated a perfect poem of another form. Why?
Because they have failed to understand the two cardinal fea
tures of the poem, number and climax. In so far as number
figures at all in their arrangement it is the number " five " in
volved in the 3 + 2 = 5 of the Qina form, and in the dividing
of the 10 lines of the " restored " poem (cf. Cheyne, Duhm and
Marti) into two strophes of five lines each,50 and not the num-
1907), in discussing Hebrew Metrics (p. 21) says: "The importance
of Budde's work, Das hebrdische Klagelied (ZATW. ii. 1 ff., 1882), lies in
his application of strictly scientific method."
"While Isaiah xliv. 24, -xiv. 7 is frequently arranged in a series of
five-line strophes, i. e. four five-line strophes and a four-line strophe
(Marti thinks five-line strophes were originally intended), it does not ap
pear that the number " five " has any such special significance in their eyes
as the number "three" in our arrangement. D. H. Miiller, who, as we
have seen, refuses to recognize metrical arrangement not even the Qina
measure, in the prophetic books, and lays the prime emphasis on the strophe
and a strophe, in which number figures largely, regards the four-line
strophe as the first of a descending series, which is in turn followed by
two four-line strophes. His strophical scheme for xliv. 24-xlv. 13 is A

614 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
ber " three " which as we have seen is not only fundamental in
the form but also has its origin in the chronological presenta
tion of the theme. While furthermore the form of the Qina
verse being characterized by balance and uniformity allows no
place for a climactic development.
The Purity of the Text.
In view of the conjectures or claims of the " interpolation-
ists " and " metricists " that this passage is more or less cor
rupt; the claim of the one group that at least the word Cyrus
must be a later insertion, the claim of the other that although
it is genuine there are other indications of corruption as shown
by the irregularity of the Qina poem, we may well lay special
emphasis upon the fact already alluded to that, in the arrange
ment we have proposed it is not necessary to alter a single con
sonant of the Hebrew Text in order to obtain a beautifully
(S+S + S+S)+B (4 + 3 + 2+ i) +C (4 + 4), (N. B., he omits the
last half of verse 28 in his count) in which the letters indicate the columns,
or, we may say, parallel paragraphs and the numbers the strophes with the
number of lines contained in each. To discuss his method fully would
take too much space. It is remarkable that he is able to develop such a
symmetrical strophical arrangement along with an irregular and metreless
line. Should his results gain acceptance, they would lead almost inevitably
to the conclusion that a strophe based on the three elements, Responsio,
Concatenatio and Inclusio, as he calls the forms of thought and word
parallelism, which, in his opinion, determine the strophical arrangement
and not a metrical line, as is claimed by Budde, Sievers and others, lies at
the basis of the poetry of the prophets. That Miiller's theory of the stro
phe is not without foundation in fact is shown by the prominence of stro
phical form — strophical parallelism — in such a passage as Amos i. i-ii. 6,
where the recurring words, " I will cast fire upon " and " thus saith
Jehovah ", together with the parallelism in structure between the succes
sive strophes, makes the recognition of strophical form unavoidable. That,
on the other hand, the irregular length of his line which cannot be
avoided, if the correspondence in form and length between strophe and
strophe is to be maintained is a serious objection to his method cannot
be denied. It is probable that there is a golden mean somewhere between
the two positions and that the relative significance of metre and strophe
is not fixed, but varies with poem and poet, and while an overemphasis
on strophe leads Miiller to mutilate lines and ignore metre, it is equally
possible, as we have seen, to mutilate lines through a too great or mistaken
emphasis on metrical form.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 615
symmetrical poem and one which at every step shows unmis-
takeable evidence of design. We may go a step further and as
sert that it is practically impossible to alter this poem without
marring it and that when the true form of the poem is recog
nized it becomes at once a most conclusive argument not merely
for the integrity of the reference to Cyrus, which as we have
seen forms the climax of the poem and explains the carefully
inwrought double climax, but also for the integrity of the
passage as a whole. This proof of the integrity of the poem is
of especial importance not only in view of the repeated claims
that it is corrupt, but also in view of its testimony to the care
with which the sacred record was treasured and preserved by
the Jews.
When we consider the intricate structure of this poem and
the difficulties which confront the commentator or metricist,
who attempts to explain it unless he understands its metrical
form, when we observe the comparative ease with which some
of these difficulties could be removed and are as a matter of
fact removed by some critics, and finally when we recognize the
fact that the Versions indicate clearly that the structure of the
poem was forgotten (?) at a very early date,51 it is significant
and noteworthy that this is the case. Thus when the strophical
arrangement is not recognized the change of persons which we
find in the second strophe is not readily explainable52 and might
61 The connecting in the LXX. of the words '" who was with me "
('JW 'D), which stand at the end of the last line of the first strophe, with
the first word of the second strophe, as indicated by the rendering, " who
else will confound the signs of ventriloquists " (lis Hrepos SiaaxeSdaei x. t. X.)
together with several other data of varying importance shows clearly that
chose who translated this passage into Greek were ignorant of the metri
cal form and we have no data on which to base the assertion that this
feature was ever clearly recognized by the Jewish church. The main
reason for supposing that it never was recognized is the fact that if once
clearly recognized it would not readily be forgotten cf. pg. 632.
raAn abrupt change of person is not, of course, in itself of especial
significance, cf., e. g., Ps. Ixxxi., Ixxxix. and xci. But in a poem, which
is so clearly a logical unit as this one, and in which the development of the
argument is, in its main features at least, so simple and clear, this sudden
change is very difficult to understand, unless it is intended, as we have
argued, to emphasize the fact that this strophe is a present strophe. It is
interesting to observe in this connection, that change of person is of

616 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
easily be regarded as indicating a corrupt text. How easy it
would be to substitute the first person for the third, as is done
in the Peshito in its rendering of the first two lines of the
strophe ! Further the " even saying " ( 1»«'?,1 ) of the third
member of strophe III, line 3; what student of Isaiah has
not wrestled with it ! How natural it would be to change it
into " that saith " (I0«n), following the analogy of the three
" that saiths ", which precede, a change which would be sup
ported by both the LXX and the Vulgate, but one which would
do more to mar the symmetry of the poem than any other
change of like simplicity, which could be suggested. And final
ly it is to be noted that in the last line of the first strophe the
reading of the Text (Kthibh) " who was with me " ( T« ""D )
is more correct than the reading preferred by the Massorites
(Qre) " by myself " (TN»), (although the latter has the sup
port of the Peshito version, and of the Targum) since, as has
been shown, the structure of the poem requires here two words
instead of one if the necessary total of nine accents is to be
obtained. It would have been exceedingly easy for them to
justify such a slight change as this,53 a change which does not
frequent occurrence in Babylonian private letters, both of the early and
late periods. Landersdorfer (Altbab. Privatbriefe, S. 19) has called at
tention to this phenomenon as a probable explanation of the changes
which we find in the dialogue between Jacob and Esau (Gen. xxxiii. 5 ff.).
He regards it, however, as a colloquialism and such is probably the true
explanation. Consequently it can hardly be regarded as explaining the
variation in a finished literary product like the poem under discussion.
53 In view of the fact that there is no absolute rule governing the writing
or the omission of the w and y when they are merely vowel-letters and
consequently not an indispensable feature of the Mossoretic Text, it will
not do for us to attach much significance to this fact. Still it is worthy
of note that, in the Kthibh, the Massorites have preserved for us a reading,
a scriptio plena, which supports the view that two words were intended
instead of one, although they themselves preferred the scriptio defectiva.-
It may, however, be remarked in this connection, that the " defective
writing", 'flKD would not necessarily establish the correctness of the
reading " alone " although it would undoubtedly favor it. For in
Numb, xxiii. 10 the LXX. rendering makes it not improbable that "I9DD
(read 1?DD " number " by the Massorites) is merely a peculiar way of
writing "^SD 'P "who can count?", the 'P being written defectively and
like the inseparable prepositions prefixed to the following word.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 617
affect the consonantal text. But they preferred to keep it just
as it was and merely indicated by means of the marginal read
ing (Qre) their preference for the other reading. Such facts
as these are in entire accord with the view that the text of the
Old Testament was very carefully preserved and guarded by
the Jews, to whom were committed the Oracles of God, but ut
terly opposed to the view of which we hear so much nowadays
to the effect that it is very unreliable and has been so altered
and revised and redacted as to make it often impossible to
ascertain its original form with any degree of certainty.
Climax as a Feature of Hebrew Poetry
It was stated above that one of the reasons for the failure
of the " metricists " to recognize the true form of this poem is
to be found in their failure to appreciate the all-important
climactic feature. It will be well for us at this point to devote
a few paragraphs to the consideration and investigation of the
role played by " climax " in Hebrew poetry. Such an inves
tigation is important and even necessary because of the fact
that climax is practically ignored by students of Hebrew
metres. Inequality in verse length is often regarded as an in
dication of a corrupt text54 and in the elaborate treatise of
Prof. Sievers, which has been referred to, we have failed to
find any reference to climax as a legitimate feature of Hebrew
poetry. That it is rarely found we are prepared to admit. But
if it can be shown as we believe it can that metrical climax de
spite its rarity is a recognized feature of Hebrew poetry, we
will not only call attention to a feature, which is as beautiful
as it is rare, but we will at the same time find confirmation of
our claim that this rare feature is to be found and to be found
in singular perfection in the passage we have been investigat
ing. And finally as will appear later a thorough understanding
64 We have seen that the extra length of the second member of the third
line of strophe II is regarded by the advocates of the Qina form as an
indication of corruption and they reduce the length of the line from three
words to two for the sake of uniformity, failing to recognize the marked
climax in the form and argument at this stage of the poem (cf. Roth-
stein, Grundziige des Hebr. Rhythmus, S. 62 u 66.)

618 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
of this feature is of especial importance to us because of its
bearing upon the problem of the date of the poem.
That the element of climax in Hebrew poetry is not promi
nent and receives little or no attention is not remarkable in
view of the exceptional prominence of its opposite, balance or
parallelism. Whether this parallelism has to do primarily with
form, or with thought, whether it be a sound- (alliter
ation or rhythm), word-, member-, or line-parallelism or bal
ance it is undeniable that this element is fundamental not
merely in Hebrew poetry but in one form or another in poetry
in general. Now it is at once apparent that in a rigid paral-
lelismus membrorum, where there is a perfect balance of
thought and metrical form, the element of climax, as a prin
ciple of progress or unbalance is excluded. Just in the propor
tion that the lines or members are unequal, is the parallelism
or balance imperfect. As a matter of fact this parallelism is
rarely so rigidly enforced as to exclude all climax or progress.
It is generally recognized that the parallelism in thought may
be " cumulative " (climactic) or antithetic as well as synony
mous and instances could be easily cited. Examples of climax
in form are hard to find. A fine specimen however is found in
the Levitical Blessing (Numbers vi; 23^25) for which Kit-
tel gives the following metrical arrangement :
Jehovah bless-thee and-keep-thee
Jehovah make-shine his-face upon-thee and-favor-thee
Jehovah lift-up his-face upon-thee and-establish for-thee peace."
Form and argument do not correspond perfectly, it is true,
since grammatically the " upon thee " ( "y^N ) of line two be
longs as much to the first member, as does the same word in
line three. But allowing for this slight poetic license, the poem
metrically considered shows a uniform numerical climax of the
following form :
11 1 2 + 1=3
111 11 or 3 + 2 = 5
1 1 1 1 111 4+3=7
an accent being added to each member of each line as the
50 -pom mrr -piT
•pm yb« vja mrr iK'
diW ~\b oen yb» vis nirr kbt

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 619
poem progresses, while on the other hand the parallelism in
form is sufficiently maintained to satisfy the poetical require
ment and the "progressive" parallelism in thought is very
marked. Another, though less clearly marked, example of
climax in form is the Blessing of Noah, Gen. ix. 25-27 (cf.
Kittel). The thought-parallelism is very carefully main
tained. Each line begins with a curse, or a blessing (anti
thetic parallelism) and ends with a reference to Canaan as
the "servant" (synonymous parallelism). There is also a
play upon words in the " God of Shem " ( a& Tl^N )
of the second line and the " in the tents of Shem " (^ntO
DE4) of the third. And in the metrical form a climax sug
gested by and involved in the theme seems clearly present, the
three lines being a hexameter, octameter and decameter re
spectively, of the form:
2+2+2=64 + 4 =8
3 + 3 + 4 = io
Thus metrically considered the last line is equal to the first
plus one half of the second.
A climax of this kind affects, mars we may say, the paral
lelism to a considerable extent and it is evident that the more
marked the climax the weaker will be of necessity the paral
lelism. An element of climax may, however, be introduced in
another way without marring this parallelism, viz. through the
use of double parallelism or what may be called a parallelism
of two dimensions (vertical and horizontal), the element of
climax being confined to one dimension. Instances of double
parallelism are easily found. Psalm xix. 7 is a good ex
ample :56
" The Law of Jehovah is perfect converting the soul
The Testimonies of Jehovah are sure making wise the simple."5'
Here the double parallelism is easily recognized. Not only is
there a marked parallelism between the two lines as a whole
M Budde points out that the second half of this psalm is a poem in which
the Qina form is most generally recognized.
M A similar double parallelism is found in the " Levitical Blessing ", but
it was the prominence of the climactic feature which made it a suitable
illustration of climax in metrical form at that point of the argument.

620 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
and between their respective members, a vertical parallelism,
but there is also a parallelism, less complete it is true, since
the second members have only two accents and are gram
matically dependent upon and epexegetical of the first mem
bers, between the first and second members of each line,
(what we call in contrast to the vertical a horizontal paral
lelism). This horizontal parallelism is less perfect as a rule
than the vertical. The second member may be as in the in
stance just cited entirely dependent on the first and merely
supplement it, or the two members may be clauses, one inde
pendent, the other dependent. E. g.
" Except Jehovah build the house they labor in vain that build it
" Except Jehovah keep the city the watchman waketh but in vain. ""
Or the second member may continue and be coordinate with
the first or finally it may be entirely independent of and in
as perfect parallelism with the first member as is the one
line with the other, i. e. the horizontal parallelism may be as
perfect as the vertical. Cf. Ps. xviii. 25-26 (= 2 Sam. xxii.
26-27.) With the-merciful thou-wilt- With-a-man of-uprightness
show-thyself-merciful thou-wilt-show-thyself-upright
With the-pure thou-wilt-show- And-with the-froward thou-
thyself-pure wilt-show-thyself-froward.™
Here the two members of the first line are entirely coordinate
and the parallelism is perfect while the members of the sec
ond line are merely joined by " and ". As far as the form
is concerned we might regard them as four trimeter lines
(a single parallelism) and could arrange them in almost any
order we might choose preferably as here in two hexameter
lines (a double parallelism), since it is undoubtedly true as
Grimme asserts that the shorter a line, the more likely is it
to combine with another to form a " long line " e. g. two
trimeters to form a hexameter, etc. But at the same time
58 This poem Ley describes as distichal hexameter, i. e., a poem with
two lines to the strophe, the lines consisting of two members with
three accents each. Metrically the second members are equal to the first
and grammatically the first members are dependent on the second.
"Ley calls it " tetrastichal hexameter", i. e., hexameter with four
lines to the strophe.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 621
Grimme recognizes trimeter as perfectly legitimate and it is
interesting to recall in this connection that Cheyne prefers to
treat the first three lines of Budde's Qina poem, i. e. Isaiah
xliv. 23 as consisting of six short lines rather than of three
long lines (pentameter) beginning the Qina poem at verse 24.
These examples suffice to make it clear that while double
parallelism is not merely theoretically possible in Hebrew
poetry but of very frequent occurrence the horizontal paral
lelism is easily and we may say usually subordinated to the
vertical, examples of perfect double parallelism being rare.
Now if the vertical parallelism is the more fundamental and
significant and the horizontal less essential it is natural to
suppose that the latter parallelism would lend itself more
readily and fully to the exhibition of the climactic principle
than the former. We have seen that as far as form is con
cerned the four parallel members of Psalm xviii. 25, 26 could
be arranged in any order we might select. Were there for
example six members and did the grammatical construction
or the argument favor it we would be justified in arranging
them in the following order :
11 1
111
i. e. a trimeter, a hexameter, and a nonameter or as Ley called
the latter " a lengthened hexameter ", i. e. we could, provided
there were a sufficient reason for so doing, arrange the units
according to a climactic, as well as according to a uniform
scheme such as three hexameter, or six trimeter lines would
be. And in this way a horizontal climax in form would be
obtained without affecting the vertical. For if all the mem
bers were equal and parallel as we assume them to be, the three
first-members and the two second-members would stand in as
perfect parallelism one with another as if the scheme were uni
form. This is as we have seen the method by which the normal
climax is obtained in our poem.
Thus it is clear that there are two distinct methods by which
climax can be introduced into Hebrew poetry, the one ac
complishes it through increasing the length of the verse mem-

622 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
bers, thus affecting the vertical parallelism, the parallelism of
the corresponding members in successive lines — what we call
vertical climax60' — the other or horizonal climax through in
creasing their number without affecting their equality one
with another. Of the former we have cited an example in
the " Levitical Blessing " which while embodying a double
parallelism limits the climax to the vertical all the lines being
two-member lines. In discussing the latter we have called at
tention to the fact that a double parallelism such as we find in
Psalm xviii. 25-26 might readily admit of or even require a
climactic grouping instead of a uniform pairing of its mem
bers and that just such a grouping occurs in our poem and we
may add occurs in such a form as to make any other arrange
ment of these units than the climactic impossible.61 This hori
zontal climax is as has been said the normal and fundamental
climax in the structure of the poem. But we have found also
an additional or extraordinary climax of a dual nature, a verti
cal climax which affects the members of the first strophe and
the end-members of the second and which prepares the way for
and passes over into a horizontal climax in the third line of the
third strophe, thus producing a double horizontal climax in the
last line of the poem. Hence it is clear that both of the forms of
climax which we have recognized as possible in Hebrew poetry
appear in this poem. Each is grounded in the argument of the
poem, the one in its chronological presentation, which gives
rise to the "triple" scheme and to the uniform (1, 2, 3)
climactic development, the other in the especial importance of
the declaration of the last line of the " future " strophe. The
great task in the constructing of this poem was the working
" The reader will doubtless observe that there is a slight inaptness in
speaking of this as a vertical climax. For in that it produces an increase
in the length of the line, it certainly looks like a horizontal climax. But in
view of the fact that it is a climax which is, as has been said, confined
within the limits of members standing in vertical parallelism to one another
and affects, we may say, weakens, this parallelism just in the measure
that it is itself prominent, the designation has its obvious advantages.
^The fact that the first member of each line is introduced by a participle,
directly dependent upon the declaration " I am Jehovah " and that the
succeeding members of each line are connected with the preceding by
" and (or even) ", precludes, as we have seen, the possibility of any other
arrangement of the strophes.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 623
out of this double climax, the superimposing of a second hori
zontal climax upon the first in the last line of the poem, in
order to obtain at that point a maximum of climax. How to
accomplish this without marring the symmetry was the most
difficult problem in the technique of the poem. It was solved,
as we have seen, by introducing the element of vertical climax
into the first two strophes and thereby preparing the way for
this additional horizontal climax in the third, and also by mak
ing the second member of the second line of the second strophe
by reason of its peculiar intermediate character (we have
shown that it is both stronger and weaker than the correspond
ing member of the preceding line) prepare for the marked
weakening of the second line of the third strophe, which alone
could make possible an extra climax of this kind in the third
line. The more we study the poem the more are we impressed
with the rare skill with which this problem has been solved.
The maximum climax is obtained viz. a double climax in the
last line of the third strophe. It is obtained without affecting
the numerical symmetry. And indeed the symmetry of the
poem as a whole is not only preserved in a remarkable way,
but may even be said to be in a sense increased. For, although
from the standpoint of an absolutely uniform climax, this
second climax introduces an element of irregularity into the
first, the two are at the same time so skilfully combined, the
second climax so perfectly inwrought into the structure of the
first that the beauty of the poem as a whole is very greatly
increased, its very intricacy lending to it an added charm.
The Date
The Poem of the Transcendence of Jehovah God of Israel,
as we have called these verses, may well, in view of its beauti
fully symmetrical form and of the elaborate care and skill
with which a climax of an unusually pronounced character
has been introduced into it, lay claim to a unique place in the
poetical literature of the Old Testament, and did our investi
gation yield no further fruits than the recognition of the true
form of the poem and the consequent proof of the unity and
integrity of the passage it would not have been in vain. But

624 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
the recognition of the true form of the poem is also of im
portance because of the bearing which it has on the question
of its date and authorship. We have seen that there is a
double climax in the poem and that this climax in form has its
counterpart in the argument which reaches its climax in the
mention of Cyrus. The mention of Cyrus as the restorer is
the reason for this whole elaborate scheme. But this at once
raises the question: Why is this reference to Cyrus of so
exceptional significance that the writer feels it incumbent upon
him to use every possible means to throw it into bold relief?
The answer to this question is to be found either in the in
trinsic importance of the utterance itself or in the exceptional
circumstances under which it was made or in both combined.
The first of these hardly needs to be discussed since, as has
been already remarked, the importance of the part played by
Cyrus in the history of the Jewish nation and in the history
of the world must be apparent to every one. And the mere
mention of Cyrus in a passage of this kind is in and of itself
of great significance and may therefore be regarded as a
climactic element per Se. It is the second, therefore, with
which we are chiefly concerned, namely: Were the circum
stances under which this utterance was made of significance,
and, if so, why?
There are, as we have seen, two principal views regarding
the date of the poem, viz. the Isaianic and the exilic.62 Let
us see how well each is calculated to explain its unique fea
tures. According to the Deutero-Isaianic hypothesis, this pas
sage was written during the exile and probably toward its
close, i. e. at a time when Cyrus had already appeared upon
the stage of history and had kindled the imagination of the
then world through his splendid record of unbroken victory
and conquest. Were he not already present and crowned with
success by Jehovah, " a great part of chapters 40-48 " would,
we are told, be " unintelligible ",63 It was his glorious career
"The Interpolation hypothesis may be included in these two, since, ac
cording to its advocates, we may regard it as an interpolated Isaianic
poem, i. e., an exilic redaction of an Isaianic poem. The question is then,
is it essentially Isaianic or exilic? Which element predominates?
63 Cf. statement to this effect by G. A. Smith which was quoted at the
beginning of this article.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 625
which drew the attention of the prophet to him and led him
to. see in Cyrus the realization of Jehovah's promises, the
fulfilment of past prophecies and the guarantee of the speedy
fulfilment of the promise of restoration; i. e., Cyrus was a
contemporary of the prophet, he was the realization of past
promises and the Restoration though still future was immi
nent. According to the other view, the Exile and the Restor
ation both lie in a distant future, and Cyrus belongs to a gen
eration yet unborn. Which of these views, we must now ask
ourselves, is in accord with and favored by the form of the
poem itself?
In our study of the poem it has been shown that the scheme
is fundamentally chronological and climactic and that the
argument and the metrical form are in as perfect agreement
as possible, the whole arrangement being intended to produce
an especial climax in the closing line of the third, or future,
strophe. Three features which have been already alluded to
will help us to answer the question with regard to the exact
nature of and reason for this climax.
The first of these features is the abrupt change of person
throughout the second strophe. We have argued that the
position of this strophe between a clearly past and a clearly
future strophe together with the present reference in the
" his servant ", designates this strophe a present strophe.
The change in person, shows further, that it is not merely a
present strophe, as a literary product, but that it gives the
actual historic present of the prophetic writer, and, therefore,
within certain limits, the date of the poem. For it is signi
ficant that, while in the past and future strophes Jehovah
himself speaks through the lips of his prophet, in the present
strophe it is the prophet who speaks as Jehovah's representative
and declares what he knows of the dealings of Jehovah with his
creatures. Regarding a remote past and regarding the future,
whether a distant future or one less remote, he cannot himself
bear any personal testimony. He can only speak as Jehovah
gives him utterance and can only declare Jehovah's words. But
of the present he can speak and tell what he has himself ex
perienced and knows to be true. The change in person can
only mean a change of speaker and the speaker in the second

626 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
strophe is clearly the prophet. That Jehovah speaks in the first
and last strophes and the prophet only in the middle or present
strophe, shows that the prophet is speaking of a period of which
he is, as has been said, fully competent to speak and this is
clearly the present. For past, or at any rate so remote a past, as
is here referred to, and future belong to God. This is an ade
quate, perhaps the only adequate, explanation of the change
in person. It is to be noted furthermore that in this strophe
there is no allusion to the Exile or to Cyrus. This is reserved
for the third and future strophe in which Jehovah speaks.
The second feature is the chronological perspective, as
shown in the relation existing between this present strophe and
the past and future strophes. The past strophe refers to a
remote past, creation. This is significant when we consider
how appropriate an allusion to a less remote past would have
been. The Exodus would have furnished an admirable back
ground for a prediction of this Second Exodus.64 But the
prophet does not avail himself of this attractive parallel.
Similarly a far more recent event, an event which must have
made an indelible impression on the minds of the contem
poraries of Isaiah and their immediate descendents, the
discomfiture of Sennacherib's army and the deliverance from
the dread Assyrian, would have prepared the way admirably
for a declaration that Jehovah would deliver his people from
the thraldom of Babylon. Instead a remote past is cited, a
past which marks the beginning of time, a past of which
Jehovah alone is qualified to speak. It might be argued that
this is accidental or unintentional. But such an explanation
is hardly in accord with the indications of design which meet
us everywhere in this remarkable passage. If it was inten
tional what does it indicate? It gives us clearly an insight
into and a scale by which to measure the chronological per
spective. We have the three periods in the three strophes.
But one would naturally ask, what is the distance between
them? The third strophe is future, but what future? Are
the events described near or remote? By carefully regulating
" It has been pointed out that the thought of the Restoration as a
second Exodus is present to the mind of the writer in the second line of
the future strophe.

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 627
the interval between the past and the present strophes, it
would be possible, in a poem as nicely constructed as this one
to give the reader some idea at least of the interval which
must be hypothecated between the present and the future
strophes. That the measurement would have to be exact, need
not be assumed. It would suffice if the interval between the
past and the present served to call attention to that between
the present and the future and furnished, at the same time, an
analogy for the estimating of the latter. The past is a re
mote past, it is the most remote past, creation. The future is
by inference a remote future. It does not lie at the threshold,
it lies afar off and of it as of this distant past only Jehovah can
speak. This view is further favored by the indefiniteness of
the first two of the future utterances. It is only in the last line
that the prophecy becomes markedly definite and the whole
form of the poem, as has been pointed out is calculated to make
it clear that this concluding declaration is very exceptional,
very unusual, an utterance which must be made as striking as
possible. The third feature is the element of progressive definiteness
which is present in the poem. It has been pointed out that in
the first two strophes it is the increasing definiteness of the
utterances fully as much as their increasing significance which
constitutes the element of climax in these strophes. This cli
max in the argument has its counterpart in the vertical or in-
tramembral climax in the metrical form of the poem, and since
in the last strophe this vertical climax passes over into the
horizontal with a view to obtaining a heightened climax, we
are justified in supposing that since the element of definiteness
is a characteristic of this climax in the first two strophes it
will be increasingly prominent in the last strophe. And it
is clear that, as has been already pointed out, the climax of the
last line of the third strophe is essentially a climax of definite
ness, the indefinite utterances of the first two lines being in the
last line connected with the name of Cyrus and thereby given
definite shape. Consequently since this extra climax in the
metrical form shows that this declaration is of extraordinary
significance and since the form of the argument shows that this
climax is essentially a climax of definiteness and finally since

628 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
the definiteness of the utterance would, as all must admit, be
unique and remarkable in proportion to its antiquity, to the
depth of its prophetic perspective, we are justified in asserting
that this feature of the poem favors its early date.
Thus we conclude that the most striking and significant
features of the poem favor the view that while this utterance
was significant in and of itself, it was chiefly significant in
view of the exceptional circumstance under which it was
spoken, i. e. in view of its early date. The chronological ar
rangement of the poem assigns the Restoration and Cyrus to
the future. The perspective of the poem, together with the
abrupt change of person in the second strophe argues that this
future is a remote future. And finally the carefully con
structed double climax attaches a significance to the definite
ness. of the utterance which is most easily accounted for if
this future was so remote that a definite disclosure concerning
it would be of extraordinary importance.
On the supposition that the poem is exilic we should, on the
other hand, expect Cyrus to appear in the second, the present
strophe, since according to this view he was " already em
barked upon his career of conquest ", while the third strophe
should connect his name with the destiny of the chosen people
since the prophet saw in him the promised champion of his
oppressed nation. And if, as we are told, the overthrow of
Babylon was imminent and was so conceived of by the prophet,
the long interval between the past and present strophes in a
poem where the chronological element is so pronounced is as
poorly calculated as possible to call attention to this fact. As
we have seen, the form of the poem is intended to throw into
bold relief the unique features of the prophecy. If the
prophecy is not unique, if the future is not a remote future and
if the definite allusion to Cyrus is not especially remarkable, we
are at a loss to explain the fact that the utterance is cast in
so striking a metrical form. In an exilic poem such a care
fully wrought out chronological climax is an anomaly. But if
we have here a prophecy which in its perspective and in its
definiteness is singularly unique, the unique features of the
poem, upon which we have laid so much stress, are at once ex
plained. They have their origin in the uniqueness of the

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 629
prophecy and are intended to exhibit and emphasize this
uniqueness. The numerico-chronological scheme, the normal
and the exception climax, all the peculiarities of this poem, are
readily understood as the appropriate setting of a strikingly
unique prophecy. If the utterance is not particularly unique
and if there is no special emphasis upon a distant future, how
are we to explain this strikingly unique arrangement? We
have seen that it is impossible, if justice is done to the plain
declarations of Scripture, to limit the prophetic horizon of the
prophet Isaiah to the preexilic period and that consequently the
most important argument in favor of late date is the claim
that the utterance itself shows unmistakable indications of ex
ilic authorship, and we argue that when the form of the poem
is recognized, there is every reason to assign it to a pre
exilic prophet, to Isaiah, since the form of the poem is ad
mirably calculated to emphasize the fact that Cyrus and the
Restoration belong to a distant future and to make it clear
that it is just because of this fact that the definiteness of the
prophecy, the mention of Cyrus by name, is so remarkable and
of such unique significance.
The statement is frequently made that the religious value of
the second part of Isaiah is unaffected by the question of its
date and authorship.65 This depends entirely upon what is
understood by the words " religious value ". If, for example,
the religious value of our poem is to be determined in whole
or in part by the revelation which it makes concerning the
wondrous attributes of the God of Israel (the theme is as we
have seen " The Transcendence of Jehovah ", a religious
theme par excellence) and if the attribute of foreknowledge
is a distinctively divine attribute — this attribute is, be it ob
served, frequently alluded to by the prophet, who considers
the ability of Jehovah to predict and fulfil a conclusive proof
that he is God, and the inability of the idols to do either, the
one or the other an equally conclusive proof that they are
things of naught66 — it would seem to be self-evident that,
65 This is the contention of G. A. Smith in his Commentary on Isaiah in
the " Expositor " series.
w Bredenkamp speaks of this argument as a "seven- fold repeated syllog
ism" in view of its frequent occurrence.

630 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
other things being equal, the religious value of this passage
will depend on the degree in which it exhibited this glorious
attribute. To argue that it is a matter of no consequence
whether these words were uttered by Isaiah a hundred years
before the birth of Cyrus, in which case we must appreciate,
as he is said by Josephus to have done, the " unique divinity "67
exhibited by them, for it is clear that no uninspired man could
perform such a feat, or whether they were spoken by an un
known prophet of the exilic period, who was acquainted with
Jeremiah's prophecy of the seventy years, perhaps even with a
more definite utterance of the same prophet which has not
been preserved68 and who saw in Cyrus the destined deliverer
— a view, which, while it lays more or less emphasis on the ful
filment of former prophecy, reduces the distinctively predictive
element in this passage to a vanishing minimum69 — is equiva
lent to saying that prophecy per se has no religious value.
And yet the Bible teaches us to see in miracle and prophecy an
indication that God has drawn nigh unto man and that the
ground ' whereon he stand is holy ground '. Anyone can
predict the tempest when " the heavens are black with clouds
and wind ". But only the prophet of God can foresee its
coming when the heavens are as brass and when the unin
spired servant must needs go and scan the western horizon
seven times in vain before he discovers even " the little cloud
like a man's hand " which is its harbinger. As an Isaianic
utterance, our prophecy possesses a " unique divinity " which
shows it to be beyond all peradventure the very Word of
67 Josephus tells us that Cyrus was impressed by the " unique divinity "
of the ancient Isaianic prophecy and consequently resolved to fulfil it.
63 The existence of such a prophecy can, however, hardly be inferred from
Ezra i. I, since there the reference seems to be, as in Daniel ix. 2, to the
prophecy of seventy years, the first year of Cyrus marking the end of the
seventy years.
69 At the time to which this utterance is assigned (i. e., shortly before
the fall of Babylon) it would have required no prophetic vision to foresee
that degenerate Babylon with its " monk-king ", Nabonidus, would fall
an easy prey to the warrior of the North, and, while the captive exiles
could not have been sure that Cyrus would liberate them, they must cer
tainly have hoped it and might have guessed it. That is, the predictive
element can on this view be reduced to " premonition or conjecture ".

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 631
God. As an exilic utterance, it is so markedly less unique that
it might be regarded as but a " man's word " were it not ex
pressly declared to be the word of Jehovah. And as a matter
of fact many who assign it to this late date consider it merely
a man's word. Can it be denied then that the significance of
this utterance, its religious value, is very much less on the
one view than on the other ?
This does not in itself prove in any sense of course that
this prophecy is or is not Isaianic. To argue that it must be
Isaianic for no other reason than because as Isaianic its re
ligious value would be greater than if it were of exilic author
ship would be but the weakest kind of an argument, if indeed
it were worthy to be called an argument at all. Our conten
tion is a very different one. We argue merely that the re
ligious value not being the same, it is an important, we may
say, a vital question, which is the correct view and by no
means a matter of indifference. And we argue further that
the fact that the unique structure of the poem finds an ade
quate — in our opinion, its only adequate — explanation in the
acceptance of the early date of the prophecy, since under
these circumstances and under these only would the definite
ness of the prophecy be of sufficient significance to account for
the exceeding care with which as we have seen attention is di
rected to it, is, in view of the difference in the religious values,
a very remarkable indication that the prophecy should properly
be assigned on the basis of " internal evidence " to the time of
Isaiah and even to the great " evangelical prophet " himself.
That Isaiah, had he written, as we believe that he did, so
unique a prophecy, would have done well to cast it in such a
mould as would indicate and emphasize this uniqueness, that,
could he have foreseen the future of this " his " prophecy, it
would not have been to him a matter of indifference whether it
were attributed to him or to the " Great Unknown " of the
exilic period, can hardly be questioned. Just in how far he did
realize this or whether he realized it at all is, of course, another
question and one which we cannot answer with certainty. To
him, living as he did so long before the events took place
whose coming he foresaw, the first consideration would natur
ally be " to search out what or what manner of time the Spirit

632 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
of Christ, which was in him did signifty to be the time of
their coming ". And the chronological climax of the poem
would be intended primarily to make it evident to his con
temporaries and to all who lived before the time of fulfilment,
that, viewed from the standpoint of the time of the utterance
of the prophecy, this lay in a far distant future, and to teach
the lesson of patience and hope : " though it tarry, wait for
it ". He may have recognized also that a poetical arrangement
which would make this clear to his contemporaries, would, or
at least should, establish for all time the early date and conse
quent uniqueness of the prophecy. Whether he did or did not
realize this we cannot say. We cannot even say to what extent
he himself understood either the form of the poem or the pur
pose which it subserved, despite the indications of design which
meet us at every point in its construction. For no one will deny
that the prophets ofttimes failed to realize the full meaning of
their inspired utterances, that they builded wiser than they
knew. If both thoughts were present in the mind of Isaiah, we
would see a double reason for this intricate arrangement,
which, as we have argued, shows everywhere indication of de
sign. But as the former and, — as we try to think ourselves
into the inner consciousness of the prophet, — more natural
reason gives an adequate explanation it is not necessary to as
sume that he was conscious of the latter, although to us, who
live centuries after the fulfilment of the prophecy, it is the lat
ter naturally which is of especial importance. In any event the
form of the poem may be readily accounted for if it is Isaianic,
for it is then the singularly appropriate garb of a very re
markable prophecy. But as an exilic production we fail to find
any satisfactory explanation of the remarkable features of the
poem. The writer is fully aware that in arguing for the Isaianic
authorship of this prophetic poem he is opposing a view which,
according to so able a scholar as Dillmann, " could long ago
be regarded as one of the most certain conclusions of more
recent literary criticism ". But he would call attention to the
fact that he has rested his contention almost entirely upon
the form and argument of the poem, upon those purely liter
ary considerations, which, according to Prof. Cheyne, should

THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH 633
prevent one from even " dreaming " of assigning it to Isaiah.
Cheyne tells us : " There might have been a case for the
Isaianic origin of 'Thus saith Yahwe to Cyrus' (xiv. 1)
if the passage had been introduced by ' Behold I will raise
up a King, Cyrus by name '." But it is clear that the Cyrus
prophecy of xiv. 1-7 is merely the continuation of the1
poem of xliv. 24-28 and, had Prof. Cheyne recognized the
chronological climax of this poem instead of trying to force
it into a uniform Qina measure, he might have seen that the
whole plan of the poem aims to say just this, namely, that
Cyrus and the Restoration -belong to a distant future.
Concluding Remarks
It remains for us to say but a word in closing with re
gard to the bearing of our investigation upon the problem
of the " Book of Consolation " as a whole. A full discussion
of this question would add too materially to the length of this
already lengthy article and we must confine ourselves to a
couple of the most obvious inferences. It has just been pointed
out that the " Poem of the Transcendence of Jehovah ", al
though it contains a Cyrus prophecy, is in a sense only intro
ductory to the more extended Cyrus prophecy of xiv. 1-13
and that it must therefore be regarded as giving to the latter
its true historical perspective as a prophecy relating to a dis
tant future. We may venture a step further and assert that
the admission of the Isaianic authorship of this poem leads
to the admission of the Isaianic authorship of at least xl.-
xlviii., i. e., the chapters to which the DeuteroTsaiah is
frequently limited in the more recent form of this hypothesis,
for the simple reason that this brief poem is the epitome, or
condensed summary, of the argument of these chapters.70 Its
main thoughts are : the incomparable greatness of Jehovah as
shown in creation, providence and redemption; the utter folly
of heathen practices ; and the certainty of release and restora
tion through Cyrus. And these are central thoughts in these
chapters. Cyrus is alluded to in other passages of the group
™ Nagelsbach, for example, declares that these verses only repeat the
main thoughts of chapters xl.-xliv.

634 THE TRANSCENDENCE OF JEHOVAH
but here, where he is called by name, it is made clear that he
belongs to a distant future.71 And finally, the fact that the
mention of Cyrus by name has long been regarded as the
argument par excellence for the non-Isaianic authorship of the
second half of that wonderful book which has been for so
many centuries inseparably connected with the name of the
great contemporary of Hezekiah, makes it, as soon as its early
date is recognized, an argument par excellence for the early
date of the very book, whose late date it was supposed to
establish. For it is clear that if this prophecy is by Isaiah
there is no other in the whole Book of Consolation which
could not have been uttered by his lips.
71 In like manner the placing of this group of chapters with their burden
of hope in such close connection with the prophecy of judgment in chap
ter xxxix. makes it clear at the very start that the prophet is speaking
prophetically and proleptically of a time in the future when the woe just
uttered shall have been accomplished.

ii!!ii:iil!