¦ -.-¦.¦¦ ivy. .¦¦'¦¦.: 1.": .-¦ ¦-.-':¦:¦ .--:¦: ¦¦•'¦,%¦'¦. ¦.y-Y-.,-'-C',-:-;.-y ,-'-iy/V.y'-X^^^^^

A. HISTORY

OF THE

Preparation of the World
.for christ

)avid R. Breed, D. D,

D

"/^t£/e tht£t Booki:
f of. the /aumiiii^ of g. College in^thil Colony"

Gift of
Professor George Park Fisher
1907

THE APPIAX WAY.

^  ^
I I
I 1
! BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
HERESY AND HERESY; |I
An argument for the persistence of the historic faith of the
Church, based on the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. ,

STRONG REASONING; POPULAR LANGUAGE.
Cloth, 60 Cts. Paper, 30 Cts.

ABRAHAM;
THE TYPICAL LIFE OF FAITH.
A life of the Father of the Faithful, in which his religious ex
perience and development foreshadows that of all his children.
INSTRUCTIVE; DEVOTIONAL.
Cloth, 75 cts.

YOUNG MEN'S ERA PUBLISHING CO.
1 O Arcade Court,
CHICAGO.
*  >^

^ HISTOEY

PREPARATION OF THE WORLD

FOR

CHRIST

Rev. David R. Breed, D. D.

WITH MAPS, CHARTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

CHICAGO:
Young Men's Era Publishing Co.
1891.

Copyright 1891, by David R. Breed.

All rigkts reserved.

Walker & Robertson, A. J. Cox & Co.,
Printers, Binders,
170 Madison St., Chicago. 144 Monroe St., Chicago.

PI^EFACE.

While the subject which is treated in the following
pages is not a new one, there is no work devoted to
its separate consideration. There are books in which
certain phases of providential history are discussed,
and many in which events, as they pass in review, are
appropriately attributed to the divine direction of
human affairs. But it has seemed to me that there
was a distinct call for yet another volume, in which
such events should be treated comprehensively under
a single title and with exclusive reference to the
redemptive purpose of God. Such a work should
prove a welcome help to Bible students, such as can
didates for the ministry, Sunday-school teachers and
others in training for Christian work, and indeed to
all who desire a better understanding of the conditions
under which the Gospel was originally proclaimed.
While it may not be necessary for one to acquire a
general knowledge of history in order to read the
Bible to his own salvation, yet the story of Redemption
is invested with a deeper meaning and conveys a much
more impressive lesson when one has first obtained an
intelligent apprehension of the nature of mankind's

iv. PREFACE.
departure from God, and of the method employed to
lead it back to himself — the preparation of the world
for redemption and the preparation of redemption for
the world.
The one thus instructed will understand not only
the connection between the Old Testament and the
New, but the relation of the times before Christ to
those since Christ ; he will behold in history the pro
gressive outworking of a great and gracious plan.
This will sufficiently indicate my object in the prep
aration of the present work. It is commended to
those classes which I have had in mind. I have en
deavored to consult their needs in the material em
ployed and in the method of its arrangement. I give
also in the foot-notes references to a number of books
which are within easy reach, for the benefit of the
interested reader, who desires to substantiate the state
ments made or pursue them at greater length.
I sincerely desire that the volume may be of real
service; mcreasing the knowledge of redemption, lead
ing some to the Saviour and promoting the glory of
God. David R. Breed.
Chicago, Sept. 1891.

CONTENTS.
Part I. Introductory: Period of Inclusion.
Chap. I. The Chosen Land.
Location, Seclusion, 13; The Jordan Valley, 14; The
Desert, 18; The Sea-Coast, The Mountains, 19; Highways, 20;
Climate and Resources, 22; Compared with Egypt, 23; Cli
matic Zones, 26; Vegetable Products, 27; Minerals, 30; Popu
lation, 31 ; Special Sections — Decapolis, 32; Plain of Jezreel,
32; Shechem, 33; Hebron, 34; Accessibility, 35.
Chap. II. The Chosen People.
The Era of Inclusion, 39; Chald»a and Abraham, 40; The
Era of Seclusion, 42; The Chosen Race, Persistent Vigor, 43 ;
Other Abrahamic Races, 47; Disposition, 50; Language, 51 ;
The So-Called Monotheistic Instinct, 56.

Part II. Period of Seclusion: Semitic
Supremacy.
Chap. III. The Schooling of Israel.
Israel Led Into Egypt, 62; Egypt Under the Hyksos, 63;
Tanis-Zoan, 66; Joseph at Tanis, 69; Expulsion of the Hyksos,
72; Rameses II (Sesostris), 75; Tanis, Rebuilt, 79; The Op
pression, 81; Egyptian Idolatry, 86.
Chap. IV. The Adoption of Israel.
The Training of Moses, 92; The University of Thebes,
93; The Choice of Moses, 97; Moses in Midian, His Commis
sion, 100; Condition of Egyptian Affairs, 101; The Nature of
the Conflict, 105; The Course ofthe Conflict, 109; Deliverance,
114; Effect Upon Egypt, Effect Upon Israel, 116.

vi CONTENTS.
Chap. V. The Hope of Israel.
Early Hopes, 121; In the Wilderness, 123; On the Borders
of the Land, 125; The Hebrew Investiture, 127; The Period of
the Judges, 129; Samuel to Solomon, 136; Political Decline,
Brightening Hope, 142.

Part III. Period of Diffusion; Japhetic
Supremacy.
Chap. VI. The Great Overturning.
Nebuchadnezzar, 150; The Medes and Persians, 153;
Cyrus, 154; European History begins, 155; The Secon4
Exodus, 156; The Religious Effect, 157; The Political Effect,
160.
Chap. VII. The Great Intellectual Revolution.
The Mission of the Greek, 167; Greek Colonies, 168;
Greek Thought, 171; Early Philosophers, 172; Socrates, 181 ;
Influence of his Philosoohy, 186; Successors of Socrates: Plato,
192; Aristotle, 195.
Chap. VIII. The Hellenizi.xg of the Nations.
Exit Socrates; Enter Alexander, 198; Influence of Alex
ander, 199; Succeeding Effects, 203; Division of His Empire;
Results, 205; Antioch and the East, 206; Rome and the West,
211; Hellenism and the Jew, 213.
Chap. IX. The Transformation of the Jew.
History of the " Grecian," 217 ; Alexandria, 222 ; The Septu
agint, 225; Other Graco-Jewish Literature, 229; Philo of
Alexandria, 233; His Education, 234; His Peculiar Work, 235;
Effects, 243.
Chap. X. The Unification of the World.
Prophetic Forecast, 247; Early History of Rome, 250;
The Empire; Julius Csesar, 253; Augustus, 259; Roman Law,
262; Roman Citizenship, 267; Roman Roads and Travelers,
270; Results, 274.

CONTENTS. vii
Part IV. The Kingdom of Heaven at Hand.
Chap. XI. The Despair of Heathenism.
Sources, 279; Roman Liberality, 280; Growth of Supersti
tion, 284; Skepticism, 288; Connection with Greek Philosophy,
293; Revolt, 296; Epicurean and Stoic, 297; The Final Condi
tion; Despair, 301; Intense Desire, 304.
Chap. XII. The World Lying in Wickedness.
Early Roman Virtues, 309; Conquest and Corruption,
310; Political, 314; Social, 317; Dependents, 319; Games, 325;
Domestic, 329; Religious, 332.
Chap. XIII. " The Fullness of Time."
The Jew in History, 336; Extent of Jewish Dispersion,
339; Jewish Expectation, 340; Jewish Influence; Heathen
Monotheism, 344; Proselytes, 346; Heathen Hopes, 347; Dei
fication of the Emperor, 351; Extent and Significance, 357
Chap. XIV. Jesus and the Resurrection.
The Struggle after Unity, 363 ; Unity the Key to the
Gospel, 367; Unity by Reconciliation, 369; Unity in the Incar
nation, 371; The Preaching of the Apostles, 375; Conclusion,
379.

vm

MAPS, CHARTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

MAPS, CHARTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

Map of Palestine  between pp. 8 and 9
" " Egypt under Rameses II  " " 58" 59
" " The Roman Empire under Augustus " 246 " 247
Chart of the Bondage and the Exodus  page 103
Chart of the Five Centuries, B. C  " 164
Ipsamboul  Frontispiec e
Looking up from Jericho towards Jerusalem ... .to face p, 17
The Fountain of Jezreel  " 33
The Ramesseum  " 78
The Four Pharoahs of the Bondage  " 91
The House of Seti  " 95
Greek Temple at Psestum  " 169
TheAppianWay  « 270

^ Mt. GerUim
--.'284.9
.'- Shiloh

liethel
Beth-hoi'on "^^v o .>i\
---'" ~'" ^-^
^"^''.Vij¦1lon , VoMioharuVR^-
~^ - ^ Gibeon_~"_\._ 
r~~%'«. Mizpeh Mt.'of'OliueT' ^„^{g;^
.\shdod \^^ \^^ .-,..'-'2989 o •2e9'S-.
" , ~ lii-fhshemesh JEBU'SALEM

V- \ ''¦¦^,_ \oAdullara

J U D ^ A

Page 18, third line from bottom, for -.^.OdO," read ¦¦f.<l<l"-
" ¦? 17. fourth line on the pa^e. for -fiSS. read -JUh.
" 164 in first column, for ••Mehemiah." read Nehemiah.
•• .<52o! sixth line for •¦6(),00(U)00." read ¦¦ll.ddd.ddd.
¦¦ B^'d seventh line, '¦IS.OOO.dOd." read ¦¦l.l'.dd.Odll.

Part I,

Introductory: Period of Inclusion.

" When the Most High divided to the nations their inheritance, when
he separated the sons of Adam, he set the bounds of the people accord
ing to the number of the Children of Israel." — Deut. xxxii : 8.

Chapter I: The Chosen Land.
Chapter II: The Chosen People.

Chapter I.
THE CHOSEN LAND.
Strictly speaking, the preparation of the world for
the coming of Christ dates from the beginning. Christ
is the "Lamb slain from the foundation of the world."
But the formal preparation of the world for redemp
tion, and of redemption for the world begins with the
call of Abraham.*^^' In that call there are three great
coincident events — the organization of the Church of
God, the founding of the Jewish Nation and the occu
pation of the Promised Land. In the design of the
Almighty it was necessary to preserve the Church
within the limitations of the nation, and to preserve
that nation by its sequestration in a suitable land. Had
it been his desire simply to communicate to some single
man, and to his descendants, a knowledge of the truth,
this would not have been necessar}^ Abraham might
have been chosen, instructed and invested with a cer
tain heritage of faith, while he and his posterity were
still permitted to remain at his old home in Chaldea.
But in the design of God to extend the knowledge of
the Messiah, and of the way of salvation to the whole
world, it became necessary to prepare a chosen nation
and to locate them in a chosen land. Atjraham was
not bidden to depart from Chaldea simply because of
its heathenism; for the iniquities of the Canaanites,
among whom he was sent, were even more abominable
(1) So ScAaJ"— Chuich History, §8; and others.

12 THE CHOSEN LAND.
than those of the more cultivated people of Chal
dea, out of which he had been called. But Chaldea
was an altogether unsuitable land for a nation charged
with such a mission to the world; nor could there have
been found in the countries immediatel}' adjacent, nor
in fact in any land except that to which the steps of
Abraham were directed, a proper place for the devel
opment of such a nation as the Israelites were to be
come. We therefore read that the " Lord had said
unto Abram, Get thee out of th}' country and from
thy kindred and from thy father's house unto a land
that I will show thee; and I will make of thee a great
nation * * * and in thee shall all families of the
earth be blessed. '"^^^ We shall discover as we proceed
that in the choice of this people and in the choice of
their land the Almighty had at that early tiine antici
pated the whole course of history, and inaugurated a
plan which it was never necessary subsequently to
modify. " So Abram departed as the Lord had spoken unto
him;" and about 2000 years, B. C, entered the Land
of Canaan. At that period the nations of the earth
were just emerging from the darkness of their mytho
logical night, and almost at this exact point, the
authentic history of the world begins. There are
no records remaining of any of the nations which
existed prior to this time, except those of Chaldea,
out of which Abraham was called, and of Egypt,
in which for a season he sojourned; and the records
of these countries are brief, and in a state of unintel
ligible confusion. This fact will bear repetition and
(3) Gen. xii: 1-3.

THE SECLUSION OF THE LAND. 13
emphasis — that the call of Abraham and his settlement
in Canaan are coincident with the beginning of
authentic history. LOCATION of the LAND.
The land of Canaan, which was to be the home of
Abraham and his descendants, is located about mid
way between Chaldea and Egypt. In comparison with
other countries which have exercised any considerable
influence upon the world, its size is exceedingly small.
From north to south it measures about 150 miles;
while the average breadth from east to west, includ
ing that portion east of the Jordan which was settled
by the Israelites, is about 60 miles. Its area corre
sponds approximately to that of Wales or Massachu
setts. But its very insignificance served the purpose
of God. This purpose was two-fold: first, to preserve
the identity of his people by a careful seclusion, especi
ally from those great empires whose acquaintance
would have been a means of moral corruption; second,
to furnish them a central point of influence, from which
their principles and hopes might be easily and naturally
diffused. the seclusion of the land.
The seclusion of the people was secured by certain
physical peculiarities of the land which have no paral
lel elsewhere on earth. They were separated from
the great Oriental monarchies on the east by the
desert, and by the vast fissure of the Jordan Valley.
They were separated from the empire of Egypt upon
the south by that " great and terrible wilderness "
which lay between the Valley of the Nile and Southern

I^ THE CHOSEN LAND.
Palestine. They were separated from the nations
that should arise in the west by the Mediterranean
Sea; and from those upon the north by the mountains
of Northern Galilee.
We shall note some of the particulars of these physi
cal features, beginning with the Valley of the Jordan.
the JORDAN VALLEY.
The meaning of the word is " The Descender," im
plying in the original the rapidity of its current. This
is the name uniformly applied to it in the Scriptures.
While other streams may bear the prefix " brook " or
" river," this one is always caUed simply " The Jordan."
Its total length in a direct line is only 104 miles.
It is thus about one-half the length of the River Thames
in England, and less that one-half the length of the
Hudson River. It issues from a cave near the site of
Caesarea Philippi, and after flowing about five miles,
unites with a second stream descending from Mount
Hermon. Its source is about 1000 feet above the
Mediterranean. Its mouth, where it enters the Dead
Sea, is 1292 feet below the Mediterranean, thus giving
to the river a total fall of about 2300 feet.
The fall of the river when first leaving the Lake of
Galilee is 40 feet to the mile, and in the next 60 miles
the fall is 610 feet. With such a current it becomes
virtually impassable, except at a small number of fords.
The Arabs of the present day enumerate some forty
of these, but they are mostly passable only in the sum
mer. The well-known fords are three in number: the
first two just below the Sea of Galilee, now marked
by remains of Roman bridges; the third at the con-

THE JORDAN VALLET. 15
fluence of the Jabbok; and the fourth opposite Jericho.
During the larger part of the year the stream is a tor
rent confined in a narrow channel between precipitous
banks; tortuous, treacherous, and hidden by a dense
jungle; this jungle, and the terrace on which it grows,
extending the entire length of the stream.**' It is thus
described by a modern traveler:
" A ride of three-quarters of an hour brings us on a desolate
expanse of gray salt mud to the mouth of the Jordan. In dry
weather the gray mud is encrusted with salt and gypsum and
occasional layers of sulphur and oxide of iron. The river itself
lies completely out of sight. Never, except from some com
manding height, can a glimpse be caught of the silvery bead
which marks its course, until within two or three miles of its
end when its forest fringe ceases; but its course can everywhere
be traced by the deep green ribbon of foliage just peering above
the upper banks, the tops of the trees which mark its border.
All along this lovvrer plain there are three sets of terrace banks.
The old bed of the river, or rather the upper end of the lake
where the mud deposits were laid against the slopes of the
enclosing mountains, was about sixteen miles wide. This is the
plain on which Jericho and Gilgal stood. Then we have the
higher plain, which even now on rare occasions is flooded. This
is covered with shrubs and scant herbage. Close to the river's
bank we descend fifty-five feet into a dense thicket of tamarisk,
silver poplar, willows, terebinth, and many other trees strange
to European eyes, with a dense and impenetrable undergrowth
of reeds, and all sorts of acquatic brushwood. It is perfor
ated in all directions by the runs of wild boars, which literally
swarm here; while the branches are vocal with myriads of birds.
It is a startling contrast suddenly to descend into this narrow
belt. Beneath this shade the Jordan, generally not above fifty
yards wide, hurries on, in its tortuous but rapid course, muddy
and dark, dashing from side to side, and forming curling eddies
at each sharp turn, generally most difficult to stem and in most
places too deep to ford, having generally ten feet of water. It
is, however, easy enough for an expert swimmer to get across
^.1^ Sinai and Palestine ; Stanley, p. 2go.

1 6 THE CHOSEN LAND.
by choosing a spot just above one of these sharp turns, and
steering himself with the stream until he strikes the opposite
bank." (5J
It must be remembered in this connection that the
Jordan of to-day is scarcely the Jordan of former ages.
The destruction of the forests in Palestine has to some
extent altered the character of the stream, giving to
it a more unequal flow of water; but it appears that
even as it is to-day, it would offer a serious obstacle to
an invading army, or a passing caravan, consider
ing that even in our times, he must be an " expert
swimmer " who ventures to cross it. During the time
of the Israelitish occupancy it was absolutely impass
able at certain seasons of the year. Even the fords
of Jericho, where travelers were accustomed to cross,
could not be attempted. Such was the condition of
the stream when the Israelites under Joshua attempted
its passage. "Jordan overfloweth all its banks at the
time of harvest;"*^' and its waters were consequently
miraculously divided, as those of the Red Sea had
been before.
But the current of the Jordan id only a single item
in the protective character of the western border.
The eastern cliffs are very steep and rent by gullies
of appalling depth. On the western side, towards
the land of Israel, they are not so precipitous, but rise
to greater heights; so that the Mount of Olives, which
is 2700 feet above the level of the Mediterranean Sea,
is about 5000 feet above the Jordan at Jericho. It is
apparent, then, that the traveler who went from Jeru
salem to Jericho, and "fell among thieves," is aptly
(51 Canon Tristam in Picturesque Palestine, Vol. I, p. 164.
(8) Joshua iii: 15.

&^,_ ¦;

:^.,

^eg^l^^2g:^fcKi??^j3^s?^
¦v-^
LOOKING UP FROM JERICHO TOWARD JERUSALEM
THE JORDAN VALLET. 17
described by the Saviour in his parable as " going
down " from the former to the latter place.
The distance from Jericho to Bethany is only fifteen
miles, so that the average ascent is 333 feet to the
mile. In order to apprehend the extreme severity of
such a grade it may be borne in mind that the average
grade of the Simplon Pass, the colossal masterpiece of
the first Napoleon, connecting Geneva and Milan, is
only 190 feet to the mile.
Mr. Edward L. Wilson, the distinguished photo
grapher and litterateur., whose lantern slides of three
continents have been exhibited to admiring audiences
the world over, thus describes his own journey over
this road:
" The climb from Jericho to Bethany is one of the most ex
asperating in Judea. There are a number of routes, but if any
one is chosen sorrow is sure to follow the preference. After
climbing say five hundred feet, turning, one may gain an appre
ciation of the true depression of the site of Jericho and of the
Dead Sea. Now, the path runs up rocky defiles amid chalk hills,
through stony valleys, and over blighted soil, up, up in the sun,
until the tops of two giddy fragments of masonry are seen.
These are in Bethany and form part of what is called the house
of Martha and Mary." W
The country was thus furnished by the Jordan with
a wall and a fosse which were ordinarily impassable.
But still beyond the Jordan lay that extension of the
African desert which contributed still further to the
separation of the land from the nations on the East.
Around this desert Abraham himself traveled upon
his way to the promised land, going far to the North,
following the Euphrates for 600 miles ; and around this
(7) Century Magazine, April, 1888.

1 8 THE CHOSEN LAND.
desert even Alexander the Great himself, a man who
did not suffer himself to be deflected by ordinary ob
stacles, was obliged to march after the subjugation of
Egypt on his way to the fatherland of Abraham.
THE DESERT.
Passing now to the south the peculiarity of the
desert between Palestine and Egypt, and its influence
as a factor in the seclusion of Israel, cannot be better
described than in quoting from Dean Stanley an ac
count of his own experience while crossing it. He
says: " The day after leaving Ayoun-Mousa was at first within
sight of the blue channel of the Red Sea, but soon Red Sea
and all were lost in a sand-storm which lasted the whole day.
Imagine all distant objects entirely lost to view. The sheets
of sand fleeting along the surface of the desert like streams
of water, the whole air filled, though invisible, with a tem
pest of sand driving in your face like sleet. Imagine the
caravan toiling against this, the Bedouins each with his shawl
thrown completely over his head, half of the riders sitting back
wards, the camels meanwhile thus virtually left without guid
ance, though from time to time throwing their long necks side
ways to avoid the blast, yet moving straight onward with a
beneficent sense of duty truly edifying to behold. I had thought
that with the Nile our troubles of wind were over, but (another
analogy for the ships of the desert) the great saddlebags act
like sails to the camels, and therefore with a contrary wind are
serious impediments to their progress. Through this tempest,
this roaring and driving tempest, which sometimes make me
think that this must be the rejl meaning of a ' howling wilder
ness,' we rode on the whole day."
He also adds the following foot-note:
" I have retained this account of the sand-storm chiefly
because it seems to be a phenomenon peculiar to this special
region. Van Egmont, Niebuhr and Miss Martineau all noticed

THE SEA-COAST. 1 9
it; and it was just as violent at the passage of a friend in 1S41
and again of another two months after ours in 1853." (8)
Such was that " Great and terrible wilderness."
"Were I a painter," says Ebers, '^ and could I illus
trate Dante's Inferno, I would have pitched my camp
stool here and have filled my sketch-book, for there
could never be wanting to the limner of the dark
abyss of the pit, landscape, savage, terrible, immeasur-
abl}' sad, unutterably wild, unapproachably grand and
awful." THE SEA-COAST.
Passing to the west we observe the sharp contrast
between the coasts of Palestine and those of the neigh
boring countries. The shores of the Land of Israel
have no indentations, no large rivers, and no deep
havens, such as in ancient times, without the improve
ments of subsequent invention, were even more neces
sary than now for the protection of shipping. The
entire extent of their sea-coast is unbroken except by
the Bay of Acre, which furnished the only harbor. It
"was a very poor one, however, because so shallow; the
only anchorage being on its extreme south, under the
lee of Carmel.^^^ The other landing-places, such as
Joppa and Csesarea, were in no sense harbors, but the
most exposed and open roadsteads. Palestine could
not be successfully invaded, then, from the west, either
by conquering enemies or inquisitive friends.
THE MOUNTAINS.
On the northern frontier the double ranges of
Lebanon formed two important ramparts; the
(8) Sinai and Palestine, p. 68.
WKitto's Cyclopadia ; "Accho."

2 0 THE CHOSEN LAND.
gate between, indeed, was open, but it was easily
guarded. These were the natural fortifications of that land, so
aptly described by Isaiah in his song of the vineyard:
" He fenced it and gathered out the stones thereof,
and planted it with the choicest vine, and built a tower
in the midst of it." And in the succeeding warning,
" I will take away the hedge thereof and it shall be
eaten up, and break down the wall thereof and it shall
be trodden dowa." ^^'> Or in the parable of the Saviour,
"A certain man planted a vineyard and set a hedge
about it."("' HIGHWAYS.
The land thus fortified could not be easily traversed.
Those highways from nation to nation which passed
through it were built with difficulty, and generally
avoided the interior. The location of the Roman
roads, which must have followed, in the main at least,
former routes of travel, are well known. '^^' From
Egypt the road to the north passes through Gaza and
follows along the sea-coast. This would seem to be
the most natural and easy route; yet the plain along
the Mediterranean is in Northern Galilee hardly a mile
broad upon the average, and between the cliff and the
sea there is at times barely room for a narrow road^
while in some places, indeed, a passage has had to be
cut out in the rock. The main road from west to
east begins in the Bay of Acre, passes up the plain of
Esdr^lon to a point near the ancient Jezreel, then over
the mountains north of Gilboa to the Jordan, follows
(lO)Is. v:2, 5. (12) See Map.
(11) Mark xii: I.

HIGH WATS. 21
up the Valley of the Jordan for about five miles, and
then strikes off toward the east. The road from
Egypt to the north and east passes through Petra
southeast of the Dead Sea, thence through Heshbon
and Rabbath-Ammon, avoiding Judea altogether.
These were the three principal routes of travel, and
the roads in the interior were taken only by those
whose objective point Avas one of the towns of Israel. ^'^'
It was due to these peculiar physical features of the
land that the people of Israel experienced that pro
found quiet which was substantially unbroken for
centuries. It is true that there were wars between
the Israelites (or certain tribes of them) and the
original possessors of the land which had not been
driven out; and that certain sections were overrun for
brief periods by their predatory hostile neighbors on
the east and south. But these were matters of little
consequence as affecting the general state of quiet
and security which the}^ enjo3'ecl.
In the meantime, in the period which elapsed be
tween the entrance of the Israelites upon their posses
sion and the death of Solomon, the foundations of the
well-known nations of antiquit}^ were laid. But while
they were still in their traditionary age, the people
of Israel, in their sequestered land, had attained the
very summit of their national glory, perfected their
political system, erected their glorious temple to
Jehovah, and were established in those elements of
spiritual power which were to be the source of all
beneficent influences.
0^) History of the Romans under tlic Empire ; Meri vale, ch. xxix.

2 2 THE CHOSEN LAND.
CLIMATE AND RESOURCES.
A people thus kept to themselves must necessarily
find in their own country, small though it be, everything
essential to their well-being; and the land of Canaan
is no more remarkable in those unusual physical feat
ures which shut it out from other lands, than in those
equally remarkable climatic features by which its
people were enabled to shut themselves in to them
selves — the fertility of its soil, its mineral wealth, and
its rich and varied vegetation.
At the time of Abraham's entrance it must have
presented a very fair and lovely appearance to the eyes
of the pilgrims who had been accustomed to the bare
and monotonous plains of Mesopotamia. At that day
there were but two towns of any importance east of
the Jordan, Ramoth Gilead and Kir Moab. A dense
population cultivated the tropical valley of the Jordan
and the plain of the Dead Sea, but beyond this to the
west, until the Phcenician settlements upon the coast
were reached, there were but few colonists. Palestine
proper contained but two respectable cities, Shechem
and Hebron. These and a few villages comprised the
whole settled population. The hillsides had not yet
been terraced and very few spots upon the plains had
been, as yet, disturbed by the plow. The scattered
timber lining the water-courses or dotting the moun
tains in irregular clusters, gave to the landscape the
appearance of a park, and its whole aspect fulfilled
its description as a " Land of Promise."
The pastoral patriarch could lead his flocks where
he would, so long as he refrained from the only breach

COMPARED WITH EGYPT.

23

of early international law — an attempt to seize the
wells of other tribes.^"'
The population greatly increased between the time
of Abraham and that of Joshua, but the character of
the country was not altered. Moses described it to
the people he "was leading thither in these words :
" The Lord thy God bringeth thee into a good land, a land
of brooks of water, of fountains and depths that spring out of
valleys and hills, a land of wheat and barley and vines and fig-
trees and pomegranates; a land of oil-olive and honey, a land
wherein thou shalt eat bread without scarceness; thou shalt not
lack anything in it; a land whose stones are iron, and out of
whose hills thou mayst dig brass." ^^^
And again:
" The land whither ye go to possess it is a land of hills and
valleys, and drinketh water of the rain of heaven, a land which
the Lord, thy God, careth for. The eyes of the Lord, thy God,
are always upon it from the beginning of the year, even unto
the end of the year." (I6)
COMPARED WITH EGYPT.
The people to whom these words were spoken
would, in their imagination, compare the land which
was thus described with the wilderness through
which they had passed; and more particularly, with
the land of Egypt, out of which they had come.
They would remember that the land of Egypt,
where they and their fathers had been dwelling,
was habitable only in the delta of the Nile, and in the
narrow strip of land upon its borders, which it was
possible to irrigate. They would remember also that
the productions of the land of Egypt were for these
(1*) Canon Tristam in the Journal of the Victoria Institute, No. 82.
(16) Deut. viii:7-9. ('6) Deut. xi: 11, 12.

2 4 THE CHOSEN LAND.
reasons limited; and they would look forward to the
land which had been promised to them with inexpres
sible longing and dehght. They were not to be dis
appointed. The land as it is now seen by travelers is
scarcely the land into which the Israelites entered and
where they continued to dwell. It has been greatly
modified by neglect and waste on the part of its
inhabitants and governors. Its forests have been cut
down. The surface soil, where it was formerly sus
tained b}' terraces, has been washed by the rain into
the valleys and carried out to the seas. The rock-
hewn cisterns in which, during the rainy seasons, they
were accustomed to store an abundance of water, are
destroyed or fallen into deca}'. The network of water
pipes for irrigation are now only faintly traced in the
ruins that remain. In some few favored spots may
still be seen the remains of those "works originally
built by the predecessors of the Israelites, and into the
enjoyment of which the}^ entered, an illustration of
which appears in the remarkable cultivation still sur
viving in the terraces of Mount Lebanon.
Dr. George E. Post, of Beirut, an eminent authority
upon this subject, declares that Syria and Palestine
are suffering in common with all the East from the
denudation of the forests and the consequent diminu
tion in the rainfall, and the irregularity of its advent;
although at the present time increasing cultivation and
tree planting on Lebanon and in the maritime plains
is exercising a favorite influence upon the climate
and water supply. Could the heights of Lebanon be
again clothed with their forests of cedar, a great
change would come over the whole countr}-. The

COMPARED WITH EGYPT.

25

rains would set in earher, continue later, come more
mildly, and be less frequently accompanied with their
present destructive floods.*^'''
In the days of Israelitish occupation, however, there
were abundant springs on the very summits of the
highlands, some of which still flow at Hebron, Nablous
and in other places. A few are yet found in the
immediate neighborhood of Jerusalem, while more
than forty may be counted within a radius of twenty
miles. The mountains of Gilead are also rich in
fountains, supplying several perennial streams.
These fountains indicate the former condition of the
country. There were two rainy seasons. The "early
rain," commencing about the first of November, and
the "latter rain," in April. The "early rain" was
the more abundant, and fell during four months. The
seasons, in consequence, were characterized by re
markable regularity. Famine was infrequent, *^^^ and
we hear of no very extended suffering in consequence
thereof until the reign of Ahab.
Up to the time of Christ and the " beginning of
sorrows " under the Romans, the land continued as it
had been, and was capable of sustaining a vast popu
lation; though
"Now all is changed — all save the changeless things;
The mountains, and the waters, and the sky —
These, as He saw them, have their glory yet."
* * * " Dead lie His once fair fields ;
Barren the fallows where His sower sowed;
None reaps the silver harvests of His sea;
None in the wheat-row roots the ill tares out.
0-1') Journal Victoria Institute, No. 80.
(18) See Ruth i: i, and 2 Sam. xxi: i.

26 THE CHOSEN LAND.
The hungry land gasps empty in the glare;
The vulture's self goes famished; the wolf prowls
Fasting, amid the broken stones which built
The cities of His sojourn." * * *
* * * u The ways have shrunk
Into a camel-path; the centuries
With flood, and blast, have torn the terrace bare
Where the fox littered in the grapes." d"'
CLIMATIC ZONES.
The land, though so small, has four distinct climatic
zones. The extensive maritime plain and the Valley
of the Jordan give rise to important contrasts. From
its proximity to the sea the former region is much
warmer than the highlands. The mean annual tem
perature is 70 degrees Fahrenheit. The harvest ripens
two weeks earlier than among the mountains. Citrons
and oranges flourish. The second zone consists of the
highlands. The average temperature of Jerusalem,
which may be taken as a fair illustration, is 62 degrees.
In this climate the grape, the fig, and the olive thrive.
The third zone is that of the Jordan Valley, which is
tropical. It concentrates the full radiance of the sun,
rarely mitigated by any cloud, though chilled at times
by the north wind. It is parched by the south wind
from the desert, and sheltered from the moist sea
breezes of the "west. Here the palm-tree grows in
great perfection. Jericho, the " City of Palm Trees,"
was considered by Mark Antony a gift worthy to be
bestowed upon Cleopatra. The fourth zone consists
of the elevated region east of the Jordan, with an
extreme climate, the temperature rising during the
day to 80 degrees, and sometimes falling during the
(19) The Light of the World. Edwin Arnold.

VEGETABLE PRODUCTS. 1>]
night below the freezing point. But there is a large
precipitation, rendering the country desirable for graz
ing purposes. VEGETABLE PRODUCTS.
A land with such a varied climate could, of course,
be made to produce every plant that is useful to man.
The oak, the pine, the walnut, the maple, the alder,
the poplar, the willow and the ash "grow luxuriantly
on the heights of Northern Galilee. Here the traveler
from the more temperate lands finds himself in the
midst of the vegetation of his own country. He sees
the apple, the pear and the plum; wheat, barley, peas,
potatoes, cabbage, carrots and lettuce. But in other
sections of Palestine the traveler from more southern
countries is no less at home. He will recognize the
well-known forms of the oleander, the willow, the
sycamore, the date palm, the pistachio, and the tall
tropical grasses and reeds. He may eat such fruits as
the date, pomegranate, the orange, the banana, the
almond. His eyes may be gladdened with the sight
of fields of cotton, millet, rice, sugar-cane, indigo,
tobacco, and other southern crops. Thus this little
land of Palestine reproduces climates and zones which
in other countries are separated by hundreds of miles.*'''
Dr. Post, of Beirut, in an address recentl}- made
before the Victoria Institute, claims that no other
country in the world yields so large a number of food
articles as Palestine. He gives a summary as follows:
"The table-lands of P.ilestine, east and west of the Jordan,
are about 2500 feet above the Mediterranean. The climate is
(20) Life of Christ; Geike, ch. ii.

28 THE CHOSEN LAND.
considerably cooler than that of the semi-tropical maritime
plains, and the rainfall in winter is abundant. * * * In
closing, it may not be amiss to allude to the range and number
of plants cultivated with ease in the open air of Syria and
Palestine. " Nigella arvensis, Z., is raised from the black seeds which
are known as the el-Habbat-es-sanda (the black seed), or Hab-
bat el-Barakat (the seed of blessing). These seeds are sprink
led over the surface of the flat loaves of bread. They are the
fitches of Isaiah xxviii,25-27. The opium poppy, Fapaver somni-
ferrtt., L., is common in cultivation, though opium is not made
in Syria. The capsules are used in making sedative effusions.
"Of Crucifers vfe, have black and white mustard, cabbage,
cauliflower, turnips, cresses and radishes.
" Flax, rue, sorrel and cactus, Ficus Indica grow wild.
"The Vine, with an endless variety of fruits, is universal,
even to the height of 6000 feet above the sea.
" There are maple, tamarisk, terebinth, Schoemus, Pride of
India, and jujube trees.
" The lemon, orange and citron are cultivated everywhere
along the coast, from Tripoli southward.
" Of Legu-minosce the number of cultivated plants is very
large — lupine, beans, horse-beans, peas, lentiles, Cicer arietinum,
mash (a species of Phaseolus^., carob-trees, acacia (the shittim
of Scripture), and the locust; the latter introduced.
" Of Rosaceous plants, the strawberry, blackberry, peach,
plum, almond, apricot, nectarine, apple, quince, medlar and
Photinia Japonica, all flourish. Syria is pre-eminently a rose
country, most cultivated varieties attaining an excellent develop
ment. " Of Grossulacece there are none which succeed well in this
land, although gooseberries and currants have been cultivated.
" The pomegranate is indigenous in the north, and the myrtle
everywhere. "Eucalypti flourish in marshy ground.
" Watermelons, musk-melons, squash, pumpkins and cucum
bers all reach a fine development.
"Of Umbelliferoe, the coriander, dill, fennel, caraway, anise,
celery, parsley, parsnip and carrot either grow wild or flourish
under cultivation.

VEGETABLE PRODUCTS. 29
" Valerian grows wild, as also carthamus, chiccory and lettuce
of several kinds, and artichokes are cultivated.
" Of Solanaceous plants the potato, tobacco, tomato and egg
plant are cultivated, and henbane and nightshade grow wild.
"The sesame forms a considerable partof the produce of
the plains.
"The olive flourishes everywhere, and yields a considerable
part of the wealth of the country.
"Figs, sycamores, mulberries, hemp and the ramie (Chinese
silk) plant, all flourish.
" The plane tree, the walnut, the edible pine and a consider
able variety of oaks, the hornbeam and the beech, are abundant,
the latter two especially in Northern Syria. The castor-oil
plant is almost universal.
" Of monocotyledons, the palm, the banana, many liliaceous
flowers, the Colocasia antiquorum (which is cultivated in marshy
ground), many kinds of iris, tulip and crocus flourish in appro
priate situations.
" Grass is not cultivated for hay, except on the farm of the
Damascus Road Company, at Sheturah, in Coele-Syria. Never
theless, the success of this company, which makes the hay there
raised a considerable part of the food of its large number of
horses and mules, warrants the belief that hay could be made
one of the staples of Syria.
" Maize, "wheat, barley, sorghum and sugar-cane are staples.
The papyrus is now confined to the Huleh, and perhaps the
marshes of the Kishon. Aru-ndo Donax and Saccharum
^^gyptiacu-m, the gigantic grasses of the country, are put to
numerous uses. They are everywhere cultivated as hedge plants.
"The variety of the flora of Syria and Palestine corresponds
with the central situation and diversity of soil, climate and sur
face, and the extreme inequality of the meteorological condi
tions of its different though not distant regions. It will not
escape the thoughtful observer of these facts, that the microcosm
selected for the development of the chosen people and the
revelation of the Word, was thus eminently suited to be the
physical basis of the world-religion."
It is apparent, then, so far as the vegetable resources
of the land are concerned, that however great the

30 THE CHOSEN LAND.
seclusion of the Israelites may have been, they were not
lacking in the necessaries or even in the comforts of
life. The size and flavor of the grapes of Palestine
have been proverbial, ever since the return of the spies
to Moses. Within a comparatively recent period the
same scene has been enacted as then astonished the
half-fed wanderers of the desert — a single cluster
requiring two carriers for its transportation. ^^^' Nor
must we forget, in the enumeration of their articles of
food, the splendid resources of the Lake of Galilee, of
which the traveler even at the present day speaks in
most extravagant terms, when describing the multitude
and the quality of its fish. MINERALS.
Nor was the land lacking in mineral resources. It
was correctly described by Moses in the passage
already quoted as a " land whose stones are iron, and
out of whose hills thou mayst dig brass." The
abundance of iron in the mountains of Northern Pales
tine is still remarked by modern travelers, and copper
is also found. Although the mines which were for
merly worked have been well nigh exhausted, yet,
doubtless, there "was sufficient of all mineral wealth
for the purposes of the Israelites. Moses himself
made a careful distinction in the words above, between
the abundance of the iron and the comparative scarcity
of the brass. Nor is this all. The Almighty had
provided the land with those remarkable health-giving
properties and resources which the citizens of other
countries are often obliged to take long journeys to
(21) See Kitto's Enc, Art. " Vine.' Robinson, Vol I. p. 8i.

POPULATION. 31
find. The wearied, the overworked and the invalided
could at any time in the shortest journey accomplish
a total change of climatic conditions; and there are
many instances given of their doing so. There were
also a variety of medicinal springs, such as the sulphur
springs upon the western bank of the Dead Sea, and
the intermittent spring at the Pool of Bethesda, in
Jerusalem itself. The Lord had, indeed, provided for
these people a " good land," furnished with everything
that was requisite to their life and happiness.
POPULATION.
Such a land was capable of sustaining an immense
population. At certain periods in its history its
citizens must have numbered at least some three mil
lion souls. Although it is desolate and unlovely in its
present condition — its towns in ruins, its fields blighted
and "withered, its squalid villages the homes of beg
gared Arabs — yet there "was a time when it flowed
with milk and honey, tenanted by a secure, a happy
and a prosperous people; a land of flowers and birds
and pastures and cattle; a land of delightful repose.
It is particularly beautiful and inviting even to-day
when the character of its inhabitants is forgotten.
SPECIAL SECTIONS.
That the reader may form some conception of the
loveliness of this land when, in its virgin beauty, it
was offered to the Israelites for their possession," a fev/
quotations may be added from the words of certain
modern travelers, descriptive respective of its North
ern, its Central and its Southern portions.

32

THE CHOSEN LAND.

DECAPOLIS.
Mr. Edward L. Wilson, who has been already
quoted, says:
" The natural scenery of Perea is lovely. There are forests
of old oak trees, among whose great moss covered branches
birds of tropic beauty dart in and out; gardens, olive groves,
vineyards and fertile meadows are numerous; all dipped toward
the Jordan and the western sun. Sometimes the buildings of
the villages are overrun with climbing vines. Wild plants and
shrubs grow according to their own sweet will. In the Spring,
one can count, from almost any elevation, thousands of the black
tents of the Arabs, who, from North, South and East, herd
their flocks here ; and as warm weather approaches, gradually
work their way up the mountain inclines. Nineteen hundred
years ago Decapolis was not such a pastural land as it is now.
The remains of perhaps as many as twenty cities of (he past
may be seen from the higher ruins of any one of them; their
massive walls, their noble arches, their forest of columns still
stand, because the wanderer of the country prefers his tent to
a dwelling-place among these ruins, and the vandal seldom
comes in this direction." (^2)
THE PLAIN OF JEZREEL.
The saine writer says :
" This lovely expanse is the Plain of Jezreel, or in softer
Greek, the Plain of Esdrselon. Our observations begin at
Jenin. It is a typical town of Northern Palestine, with its
fruit gardens, its lovely "water supply, and its groves of palm.
There, too, is the inevitable broad dome of the Mosque; and,
overreaching all in height, the slender minaret, whence the
muezzin cry may be heard from Samaria to Galilee. The
views from this minaret are worth a journey to Palestine to see.
The backward look towards Shechem and Samaria affords a
new view of Ebal and Gerizim, and not only covers a splendid
country under a high state of cultivation, dotted with olive
groves, as fine as any south of Damascus, but embraces a region
full of thrilling history. In some places the long lines of the
(32) Century Magazine, April, i888.

o

m

I- Va 4."

#»

THE PLAIN OF JEZREEL. 33
broken arches of an aqueduct lifted high in the air, remind you
of the Roman Campagna. Down in the fields near Samaria,
you "will see a richly cultivated country. The whole region is
hilly. The rocks protrude from the hills on every side, yet
every spot of ground from the bases to the summit presents
testimony to the thrift of the husbandman. Every valley has
its stream, even now. The tiniest of these is made to drive the
"wheels of some primitive flour-mill. At your feet, beginning
as soon as you look beyond the borders of the village, is the
lovely plain. The rich carpeting supplied by nature is inde
scribable. There are no fences between the vast undulating
plots of green and gold ar.d pink and gray ; but the narrow
roads, "with soil of red shale, mark out the boundaries for the
husbandmen. A silver stream, whose starting point cannot be
made out, may be discerned finding its way down from west
to east. It is the River Kishon, where Elijah slew the priests
of Baal. This view in the spring-time looks like a great garden
under the highest state of cultivation. You ride back toward
the fountain of Jezreel. It is a beauty spot and a natural
wonder. If you have a guide who knows the country, you
may ride northward on Mount Gilboa, until you come to the
point where the mountain abruptly ends, as though a part of the
slope had been cut a"way, as is often the case in railway con
struction. Hold your guide's hand while you look over, and
you will hear the trickling of water, the splashing of cattle, and
the voices of their chattering attendants. They are one hundred
feet below you, where is a wide cavern walled by conglomerate
rock, from vs^hich the waters burst forth with sufficient force to
turn a little mill. This is the fountain of Jezreel. The rocky
sides and the top of the cavern are lined with ferns, and water
plants abound. The water flows perennially. After emerging
from its source the stream widens into a small lake, and feeds
one of the winding tributaries which contribute to the waters
of the Jordan. The husbandmen of the Plain of Jezreel bring
their cattle and their flocks here to drink, but they guard them
well, for the visits of the invader are still frequent." (23)
SHECHEM.
Another traveler speaks in the following language
(33) Century Magazine, October, 1889.

34 THE CHOSEN LAND.
of the appearance of the country in the vicinity of the
vale of Shechem:
" There is certainly no spot throughout the Holy Land which
can rival this in beauty. All travelers, ancient and modern,
speak in glowing terms of the peculiar loveliness of this valley,
and many are the improvised songs which are sung in its praise
in the present day, in the pleasant gardens of Nablous, by the
Moslem successors of the Shechemites, who quote their prophet
Mahomet himself as an author for saying that it is 'the place
beloved by Allah above all other places, and that his blessing
rests upon it continually.' It must have been regarded as an
especially favored and hallowed spot in patriarchal times. It
was the first halting place of Abraham after he had passed over
the Jordan and entered the Land of Canaan, and here his first
altar was erected. Here also was the parcel of ground acquired
by Jacob, and here was Jacob's v^rell. It is said there are no less
than eighty springs of water in and about Nablous, each having
its special name. The water is conveyed from these springs to
the mosques and other public buildings, and the private houses,
and then irrigates the gardens in and around the city. Many
of the streets have little channels of clear water running through
them. After being thus utilized the streams on the western side
of the city are allowed to unite and form a stream, which turns
several mills, and flows towards the Mediterranean. Those
on the eastern side irrigate the gardens east of the town, and
then with a rather abrupt fall, flow towards the River Jordan." W
Mr. Wilson also adds his testimony:
" The location of Shechem is delightful. The whole valley
running east and west is alive with gushing cascades and bound
ing streams, luxuriant olive groves and fig orchards, interspersed
with fruits of various kinds, are dotted hither and thither every
where." (25)
HEBRON.
Passing on to the south, Mr. Wilson thus describes
the country in the neighborhood of Hebron:
" Nothing could be more lovely than the region reached a
(24) Miss M. E. Rogers in Picturesque Palestine, I.
(23) Century Magazine, December, i888.

HEBRON.

35

day's journey north from Petra, when in the neighborhood of
the brook Eshcol the wide valleys are clothed with verdure,
spotted with daisies, buttercups, dandelions, poppies white and
red, and many other flowers. Large flocks were there attended
by their shepherds. The fellahin were at work, and the women,
tall and erect, were everywhere carrying water in jars upon
their heads. The fields were protected from the torrents by
stone walls, and olive groves and vineyards abounded. It was
a- grateful scene. Each vineyard of Eshcol was protected by a
high stone wall. In every one was a low stone structure, which
served as the house of the attendant. Nestled down in the
valley below lies Hebron, in the Plain of Mamre. To one
coming up from a two months' wandering in the wilds of a
scorched desert, this first sight of holy land is an enchanting
one. The hills and valleys alike are clothed with olive groves,
orange trees and vineyards, figs, mulberries, almonds, pome
granates, and vegetables like our own; and melons and cucum
bers also abound. Streams of "water run hither and thither, and
murmur music which gladdens the heart of the "weary traveler.
It is no wonder that Caleb's heart also turned back to this
region, after his visit to it as a spy, regardless of the threatening
appearance of the children of Anak. Surely Joshua "was just
when he blest him and gave unto Caleb, the son of Jephunneh,
Hebron for an inheritance." (26)
ACCESSIBILITY.
But if the land of the chosen people were only a
secluded land it could never have fulfilled the design
of the Almighty ih its selection. A secluded land
might have been found upon some distant continent;,
or in one of the islands of the sea. But the design of
God included not only the separation of his people
from the other nations of the world, but also their
permanent influence over them. For this reason he
chose a land which, while it might not be easily
invaded or visited, should yet be as close to the great
(26) See 20.

•3 6 THE CHOSEN LAND.
highways of travel as to be brought into easy com
munication with other nations whenever desired. ^~'^
Attention has already been directed to the location of
the Roman roads, following, as they did, the ancient
highways. Over these roads have passed from the
earliest times the great tides of humanity ; and although
ordinarily the traveler may not have been diverted
from his course in order to visit the cities of Israel,
yet he could not fail to come in contact with such
Israelites as dwelt upon the borders of the land, and
learn from them of the character of the national faith
and the national aspirations. It occupied the same
relative position at the call of Abraham that it did
when the Messiah appeared, and which indeed it still
maintains. It must be remembered, however, that
our own continent was unknown for fifteen hundred
years following the coming of Christ, and for thirty-
five hundred following the call of Abraham. Until
the discovery of America the position of Palestine was
the pivotal one among the nations of the earth. It
seemed, indeed, to the nations of antiquity, and par
ticularly to the people who occupied it, to be the very
center of the earth, justifying the foolish superstition
that still obtains at Jerusalem — the very stone being
shown to modern travelers which marks the exact
iniddle point. The little land is situated at the junc
tion of three continents. Its later civilization has
partaken in a measure of the character of the civiliza
tion of each. It looked eastward toward the great
empires and religions of the Orient. It looked west
ward over the Mediterranean to the promise of
(27) Particularly well stated in Conybeare & Howson, Vol. I., ch. i.

ACCESSIBILITY. 37
European civilization. It looked southward upon the
hfe and customs of Egypt, and the darkness beyond.
The Wise Men who came from the East to Jerusalem
at the birth of the Saviour, the Greeks from the West
who inquired for him at the feast, and the Ethiopian
from the South who was found returning from Jeru
salem after his ascension, are each a type of the
peculiar radiation of influence which the central
position of the chosen land afforded. Its special
fitness to be a center was apparent at the first, nor
did it cease until the whole scheme of revelation and
redemption had been completed. Vast migrations
had passed and repassed its borders. The Assyrian,
the Persian, the Greek, and the Roman in turn have
marched along its coasts toward Egypt, and more
than once the Egyptians have countermarched over
the same route. Certain very significant illustrations
of the central influence of this country, by reason of
its geographical location, appear even in our own day.
The choice of Syria as a sort of eastern headquarters
of missionary operations may be cited as an instance;
and the English occupation of Cyprus, in lieu of a
foothold upon the main land. This secluded land is
therefore, notwithstanding its seclusion, the most
accessible of all the lands of the ancient world, the
true "^Middle Kingdom," bearing the same relation to
the countries round about it, and to the busy avenues
of commerce and of war, that the " close " of an English
cathedral or university, in the midst of a populous
city, bears to its crowded streets and marts.
Such, then, was the land in which the chosen people
were to be trained and developed until their religious

38 THE CHOSEN LAND.
life should become complete; and such was the land
from which the blessings of redemption were to be
distributed throusfh the earth.

Chapter II.
THE CHOSEN PEOPLE.
In the execution of the purpose of God it became
necessary to prepare a people for the prepared land.
The choice of this people was not, as is too commonly
supposed, an arbitrary one. They were selected with
reference to certain qualities which they possessed
and certain advantages which they had enjoyed, fitting
them to become the leaders of the world in the exten
sion of the divine redemption. There had been due
preparation for their advent, just as there subsequently
was for the advent of the Redeemer. The providential
history of the world leads up to Abraham; just as it
leads up to the Seed of Abraham, the Saviour. The
period which leads up to Abraham may be called
THE ERA OF INCLUSION.
It is characterized by the inclusion of the people of
God among the nations, as the period which follows
Abraham is characterized by their seclusion.
In order to justify this seclusion of the Hebrew
race it was the design of the Almighty, in the course
of his providence, to show that unless the chosen
people were set apart by themselves, the knowledge
of the truth would have become hopelessly lost, and
the redemption of the world indefinitely retarded.
Therefore, after the judgment of the ante-deluvian
world and the destruction of its people in the flood.

40 THE CHOSEN PEOPLE.
the Almighty started the whole race anew by the
preservation of a single family, to whom he vouch
safed the knowledge of himself. No attempt was then
made to separate a single tribe from others. Although
Shem, the eldest son of Noah, was selected as the
father of the chosen seed, the intercourse of his descend
ants with those of the other sons of Noah was
absolutely unrestricted. The leaven was hid in the
meal; the question which was to be answered in the
course of history was whether the leaven would
permeate the lump or the lump quench the leaven.
Again "men began to multiply on the face of the
earth." The judginent of the former age was forgot
ten; and the lapse into idolatry and immorality was
almost as swift as it had been originally. We are
taught by the Scriptures that the immediate descend
ants of Noah plunged at once into sin. Of Shem
alone are we positively informed that he acknowledged
the Lord as his God. It is presumed that his son, the
grandson of Noah, was an idolater; and all the nations
which sprang from Noah shared in the same decline.
For hundreds of years together there was not so much
as a solitary exception. The world had again reached
a condition similar to that which obtained just before
the flood; and by its persistence in that condition
demonstrated its incapacity to conserve truth and
righteousness, except under special conditions which
the Almighty himself should arrange and impose.
CHALD.<EA AND ABRAHAM.
The culminating point in this period was reached
when the Chaldseans obtained supremacy over their

CHALD.EA AND ABRAHAM. 41
neighbors, and the Chaldaean government became the
central and sovereign one. Coincident with this cen
tralization of political power in the hands of the
Chaldaeans there was a culmination in their iniquities.
We observe the same state of things existing upon a
small scale at the call of Abraham, which we shall
hereafter observe at the advent of Christ. " The full
ness of time" had come in just the same sense. The
world, in its increasing ignorance of God, and its
deepening departure from him, was ripe for some
distinct divine intervention.
An extended account of the religious condition of
Chaldsea at the time of Abraham cannot here be ffi ven.
It is sufficient for our purpose to note that at the time
of Abraham's migration a new dynasty had taken
possession of southern Mesopotamia. Of this new
dynasty Sargon I. was the founder. His empire was
the most extensive which the world had as yet known.
Sargon had carried his conquests far to the west;
left his image on the rocks of the Mediterranean coast,
and even crossed the sea to Cyprus.''^ That the
religion of his empire might be in keeping with its
political magnificence it was formulated, under his
influence, into a complete system.^"' The divinities
were arranged in imperial order into a graduated hier
archy, and their respective worship was defined ; idolatry
was thus dignified, and received a new and powerful
impulse. Chaldsea and its subject kingdoms were
committed to it. The civilization of the world that
(1) The Bible and Modern Discoveries ; Harper, p. 4.
(3) See The Ancient World and Christianity ; De Pressense, ch. ii.
Hours -with the Bible ; Geike, I., 305.
Ancient Empires of the East ; Sayce, pp. 112, 295.

42

THE CHOSEN PEOPLE.

then was, its political power, its social life, and its
religious condition, were determined. The gods
which, before this time, were hke the people, com
paratively simple and unobtrusive, were lifted, together
with their monarch, to a supreme place and glory.
Abraham before his departure was the witness of this
sad deterioration. He saw the great army of priests
which the increasing demands of idolatry had multi
plied. He heard them chant the liturgies which the great
mental awakening had created. He was the witness of
the early rites of magic and divination — now reduced
to a system. Possibly he was a witness also of the
awful horror of human sacrifice which was commonly
practiced in his own land.*^^ Such was the condition
which threatened to become universal, when he
received his call, and the era of inclusion ended in the
signal failure of mankind.
THE ERA OF SECLUSION.
Abraham is now designated to be the founder of a
new era, of which the seclusion of the people of God
shall be the characteristic feature. He is a citizen of
Ur, the capital of Chaldaea. His very name (Abu-
ramu) is found on an early Babylonian tablet.'*^ He
is also a descendant of the blessed Shem, the son of
Noah. But this is not all. Though there appears a
special fitness in the designation of Abraham, he
might have been all that we have represented him to
be and yet have been unfit for the peculiar work
which was contemplated in the purpose of God. That
(3) Abraham - The Typical Life of Faith ; Breed, ch. i.
(1) The Bible and Modern Discoveries ; Harper, p. 4.

PERSISTENT VIGOR. j^2,
purpose looked to the far distant future, and required
for its execution a suitable agent. The choice of the
Almighty, therefore, had respect to the agent, as it
always has. The same discrimination was shown in
the choice of Abraham which was afterwards displayed
in the choice of Moses and of Paul.
THE CHOSEN RACE.
The race which was to spring from Abraham was
to be endowed with those peculiar qualities which
should render them fitting agents for the custody and
transmission of the truth. We shall direct attention,
first, to such qualities as they shared with kindred
races; then, to such qualities as distinguished them
from others; and then, to the divine addition to their
natural endowments. PERSISTENT VIGOR.
The persistent physical and intellectual vigor of the
Hebrew race has been frequently emphasized. The
scientific principle as to the persistence of the type and
conformity thereto, has never seen such a remarkable
illustration. It has been generally remarked even by
ethnologists, who view the matter not from a religious
standpoint, but from a scientific one. A distinguished
lecturer upon ethnology, "who is certainly not disposed
to credit the Jews with any special qualities because
of divine favor, but whose skepticism evidently em
barrasses him in his studies, in view of their unique
national history, yet he says,
" They left Chaldasa according to their own showing a small
family and quitted Egypt a considerable people. From the

44 THE CHOSEN PEOPLE.
earliest recorded times they have been wandering over the earth.
When they penetrated into Britain it is impossible to say, but
here they are now, unaltered and unalterable. Societies are
gotten up for their conversion. Be it so. Nothing can be said
against them, but in one hundred years they will not convert
one hundred Jews, not even one real Jew. This is my opinion
and solemn conviction." (5)
Says another ethnologist:
"Of all the families of Man, the Semitic has preserved the
most distinguished and homogeneous mental characteristics.
Alvvays, in all its branches, tenacious of the past, conservative,
not inclined to change or reform, sensual and strong of passion,
yet deeply reverent and religious in temperament, capable of the
most sublime acts either of heroism or fanaticism, it was from
the first a fit medium for some of the grandest truths and prin
ciples which can inspire the human soul. Its very peculiarities
adapted it to feel and contain and convey divine inspirations.
* * * A peculiar physiological fact about the Jews should
be noticed here ; that they are able to live and multiply in
almost all latitudes. Their increase in Sweden is said to be
greater than that of the Christian population. In the towns of
Algeria they are, according to Boudin, the only race able to
maintain its numbers; and in Cochin China and Aden, the
latter one of the hottest places in the world, they succeed in
rearing children and in forming permanent communities."(S)
The Jews have demonstrated in their four thousand
years of a national existence that they are possessed
of a certain vigor which has never been approached in
the life of any other people. Although they have
been carried into captivity, decimated by their
conquerors and scattered abroad over the earth, they
exhibit to this day no signs of exhaustion. On the
other hand the most competent observers of history
agree that within the last century there has appeared
something like a rejuvenation of this ancient stock.
^) Kno.r on Race ; Lecture IV.
(6) Races ofthe Old World ; Brace, pp. 50 and 243.

PERSISTENT VIGOR. 45
The Jew is a Jew everywhere, in his theories, his
methods, his pursuits, his faith, and even his external
appearance. And the special peculiarity of this
physical vigor consists in the fact that the Jewish
character, and the persistence of its type, have been
especially marked in periods of Jewish decline and
dispersion. This is the more remarkable when we
remember that in the case of other nations, such as
Greece and Rome, the day of their greatest influence
"was the day of their greatest national prosperity; and
that with their political decline, there came also
a debasing of their national character and a decay of
the national type. But for only seven hundred years
out of the three thousand of their entire existence as
a people have the Hebrews been a united and indepen
dent nation; or, if we count the whole time, from the
Exodus to the captivity of Judah, as the period of
Hebre"w independence, it yet appears that for about
three-fourths of their national history the Israelites
have been without a country which they could call
their own. For the last eighteen hundred years they
have been exiled and scattered, the history of their
persecutions forming many of the saddest pages in
history, and almost every nation in the earth being
guilty partners in it; but their sad experiences have
not obliterated a single feature peculiar to their
character. The phenomenon is absolutely unique.
Still further the uniform testimony of historians and
other observers like that of Brace, quoted above, is to
the fact that everywhere and always the Jews have
been found to exceed the Gentiles, both in fertility
and longevity. There has been a constant repetition

46 THE CHOSEN PEOPLE.
of the features which troubled the Egyptians of old.
The Hebrews outgrow their oppressors in number.
This has always enabled them to react after oppres
sion and to recover lost ground with an amazing
rapidity. For example, in the return from Babylon
we are told that the immigrants numbered less than
fifty thousand, and yet by the time of Christ, notwith
standing their reverses and persecutions, the Jews of
Palestine were numbered by millions. At the time
of the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus we are told
that more than a million were gathered together in
that city alone. In that last vain struggle of the
nation it showed no signs of impaired vitality, nor had
the Romans ever met with a people whom they found
so difficult to subjugate. Cast out of their own land,
with no universal bond of government and exposed to
uncongenial climates, and adverse social influences,
and permitted to live, if at all, under hurtful restrictions,
the Jewish character is yet preserved intact, and the
Jewish physique has suffered no deterioration.^'''^
Dr. Schaff in a very fine passage has written:
" Behold the race still lives as tenaciously as ever, unchanged
and unchangeable in its national traits — an omnipresent power
in Christendom. It still produces in its old age men of com
manding influence for good or evil in the commercial, political
and literary world. We need only to recall such names as
Spinoza, Rothschild, Disraeli, Mendelssohn, Heine, Neander.
If we read the accounts of the historians and satirists of imperial
Rome about the Jews in their filthy quarter across the Tiber,
we are struck with the identity of that people with their
descendants in the ghettos of modern Rome, Frankfort and
New York. They excited then, as much as they do now, the
mingled contempt and wonder of the world."(^)
(7) The Je-ws ; Kellogg, ch. i.
(8) Church History, § 17.

OTHER ABRAHAMIC RACES. 47
The design of the Almighty therefore, in selecting
them to be his agents in the custody of his truth, is
more than justified. OTHER ABRAHAMIC RACES.
That the Lord's selection of this people was not
arbitrary, will even more emphatically appear when
we recall the history of the other branches of the same
common race. The history of the Ishmaelites dis
plays physical vigor and a persistence of national
character second only to that which is displayed in the
history of Israel. While the mental peculiarities of
Isaac are reproduced in his descendants, those of
Ishmael are as distinctly reproduced in his. The
Bedouin of the desert and all his Arabian kinsmen
manifest to-day the same untamable disposition
which occasioned the expulsion of Ishmael from his
father's camp. There is scarcely anything in history
to parallel the rapidity of the conquests of the Sara
cens, nor can history furnish, apart froin Christianity,
illustrations of more remarkable personages than they
have produced. The consummate flower of this race
is the false prophet, Mahomet; concerning whom a
distinguished scholar has written :
" Call him prophet, reformer or imposter as we "will, the
camel-driver of Mecca, the conqueror of Medina, soars above
every other man recorded in the history of the East. Nowhere
in the history of the world can we directly trace such mighty
effects to the personal agency of a single mortal. He found a
barbarous and disunited people. He left a flourishing empire,
which actually existed for ages, and which in its effects exists to
this day. He put forth a new religion. So have others before
and since; but his religion was not destined to influence a single
sect or a single nation; it was to stamp the mind and destiny of

48 THE CHOSEN PEOPLE.
the whole Oriental world; to be .it once the truest of false
religious systems and the deadliest antagonist of the truth
itself."(0) But iNIahomet's great work was not one of conquest.
His influence abides not in the empire that he founded,
but in the book which he wrote. The Christian world
is only beginning to understand and appreciate the
Koran. The vast majority still hold very much the
same opinion with regard to it which Martin Luther
once expressed. In his sermon against the Turks he
says: " In which law there is nought but sheer human
reason, for his law teaches nothing but that which
human understanding and reason may well like;
wherefore Christ will come upon him with fire and
brimstone." But at this time (1529) Martin Luther
had never so much as seen a Koran. ^^"^
According to the unanimous consent of modern
scholars the Koran is a wonderful book. Its chief
value is derived from its indebtedness to Judaism and
the principles which it borrows from the Old Testa
ment; and in consequence, it has had, and is still having,
a mighty influence. This wonderful work of one of
the descendants of Ishmael rules to-day over the minds
of 180,000,000 of people. The old contest between
Isaac and Ishmael is continued in our own day. The
son of Ishmael is the only stalwart antagonist which
the son of Isaac recognizes. The Crescent is the only
serious obstacle to the advance of the Cross. Says
the author just quoted :^^^'
"The religious reformer (Mahomet) has checked the
(9) History and Conquest of the Saracens ; Freeman, p. 5.
(10) Quoted by Emanuel Deutsch; Remains, p. 61.
(11) Freeman, page 59.

OTHER ABRAHAMIC RACES.

49

advance of Christianity. The political reformer has checked
the advance of freedom, and indeed, of organized government
in any shape. The moral reformer has set his seal to the
fearful evils of polygamy and slavery. Whether Mahomet be
personally the Anti-Christ of Scripture, I do not profess to
determine; but I do know that his religion, approximating as it
does so closely to Christianity without being Christian, eventu
ally appears above all others emphatically anti-Christian."
We are bound to remember, however, that even the
Christian world must confess its great indebtedness to
the sons of Ishmael. The conquests of the Saracens
"were the enriching of Europe. The literature, arts,
and sciences of the Arabs form the connecting link
between the civilizations of ancient and modern times.
The culture which they introduced into the countries
they conquered has outlasted the conquerors them
selves. To them, both directly and indirectly, we owe
the revival of learning and philosophy in Western
Europe, and the awakening of the spirit of inquiry
which rescued Europe from her long lethargy of
ignorance and superstition. To them, also, at least
indirectly, are due many of the useful arts and
practical inventions perfected in more recent times.
Let us not forget that even our system of notation is
expressed, not in Roman, but in Arabic numerals.
A passing reference may also be made to other
descendants of Abraham; in order, still further, to
illustrate the vigor of those races of which he was the
founder. The Midianites, who were descendants of
Abraham by his wife Keturah, were long a menace to
Israel. Among them Moses dwelt for a season.
After their defeat by Gideon they seem to have
become incorporated with the stronger tribes. The

ro THE CHOSEN PEOPLE.
Edomites, descendants of Esau, himself another Ish
mael, do not entirely pass out of history until after
the death of Christ. From Edom sprang Herod the
Great and his royal house; and, in their attempts
upon the life of Christ and his apostles, illustrated the
ancient feud. Finally the Samaritans, although a
mixed race, cherished the memory of their father
Abraham, and professed to follow his faith. A rem
nant of them is still to be found in the neighborhood
of ancient Samaria. Surely, this is sufficient to show
that the Hebrews did not receive from the Almighty
an exclusi^•e amount of vigor, but one which they
shared in common with kindred races, whatever may
have been the special divine additions.
DISPOSITION.
The Hebrews, however, were distinguished from
their kinsmen by their disposition. In selecting his
agents the Lord had respect to the amiability and
tranquility of the Jewish mind. He chose the gentle
Isaac, not the furious Ishmael. The descendants of
Isaac have never been great warriors. They never
made extensive conquests. Even the dominions of
David and Solomon were insignificant in comparison
with the great empires of the Old World. More par
ticularly, be it remarked, they never sought to prose
lyte by force. What an exceedingly sad commentary
it would have been upon the history of the chosen
people had they reflected at any time the spirit of the
Ishmaelite; or raised a rallying cry similar to that of
Mahomet and his successors, " The Koran, Tribute, or
the Sword!"

LANGUAGE. 5 1
But perhaps the most remarkable of those endow
ments which fitted the Hebrews to be the custodians
of the truth, was their possession of a language which
was signally distinct from most of those with which
it came in contact by its alphabetic form. While
the written speech of other nations was cast in some
complicated syllabic or hieroglyphic system, the writ
ten forms of this language were such as to adapt it
to the purpose of God. It was specially suitable to
be cut upon stone and used for monumental inscrip
tions. The tables of the law which Moses received
from the Almighty would have suffered greatly in
their force and perspicuity, if indeed their meaning
could have been expressed, had they been carved in
the forms which Egyptians or Assyrians were wont
to use.
Ideographic systems, even after they have assumed a
somewhat phonetic character or passed into syllabic
form, have certain serious defects. The range of ex
pression is limited. They are largely confined to the
sensuous and concrete, and more particularly, the same
symbol must be employed to denote a variety of objects
and of sounds which are somewhat closely allied to
each other. Take for example, and as a single illus
tration from the Egyptian syllabary, the sign for
" lapis lazuli." The Egyptian name for this stone is
kliesteh. But the first syllable of this word, used
alone, means " to stop," and the second, " pig," so that
the sign for lapis lazuli was a man stopping a pig by
pulling his tail.
Clearly then such a language was not adapted to
the purpose of divine revelation, in which there must

52

THE CHOSEN PEOPLE.

be precision, as well as the opportunity for the coinage
of new words wherewith to express new ideas — ideas
entirely disassociated from ambiguous symbols. The
Almighty, therefore, chose a people in possession of an
alphabetic system capable of expressing a wide range
of thought, and more especially capable of conveying
abstract truth.
At what date this language was reduced to that
written form, which preceded its alphabetic form, it is
impossible to determine. The date is so remote as to
be lost in the mists of antiquity. We only know
that when the people from whom the Hebrews sprang
first appeared, this language was the common property
of all the nations between Assyria and Egvpt, with
differences onl}' of idioin.
The Phcenician was long supposed to be the oldest
language of its class. It can be traced to a date looo
years, B. C. It was more widely extended than any
of the other early languages. The whole ancient
world being the vantage ground of Phoenician enter
prise, it was naturally disseminated over the widest
possible space. The Greek and Roman alphabets were
its products. According to tradition, Cadmus, the
Phoenician, introduced the art of writing into Greece,
giving to it the old alphabet of sixteen letters. But by
reason of this very dissemination of the Phoenician lan
guage it yielded to foreign influence, became corrupt
and lost its distinctive character. '^^^
At the present time we are unable to determine
the original form of the common language, but the
(12) Literary Remains of Emanuel Deutsch, 304-307; Enc. Britt., Art.
"Alphabet."

LANGUAGE. r,
Hebrew, as we know it, unquestionably approaches ^-ery
closely to the primitive type. Before Abraham left
Chaldsea this language in its early form had been im
pressed upon the tablets of clay which formed the
books in use in that age of the world. Libraries of
such books had been collected and by their means as
tronomy, mathematics, law and government had been
studied and reduced to writing. '^^'
It was long tacitly assumed by the critical school
that writing was a rare art in Palestine before the age
of David, and was practically unknown. In the light
of recent discoveries this assumption can no longer be
maintained. Long before the Exodus even, Canaan
had its libraries, its scribes, its schools and its literary
men. The annals of the country were inscribed upon
clay in characters of the cuneiform syllabary. Exten
sive correspondence was carried on between the various
Semitic nations speaking the same general tongue.
The tablets recently discovered at Tel el Armana in
Egypt comprise the correspondence of various officials
scattered throughout Syria and Mesopotamia, dealing
with all sorts of governmental matters and abounding
in information with regard to many details of civil and
social life. The collection cannot be the only one of
its kind. Similar libraries must still be lying under the
soil, not only in Egypt, but doubtless in Palestine and
farther Syria. There is little doubt among archaeolo
gists that such libraries still await the spade of the ex
cavator on the sites of such places as Gaza, Kirjath
Sepher, and others celebrated in ancient writings for
their literary fame.^"^
(13) Abraham : His Life and Times .- Deane, 8.
(W) Prof. Sayce in the Victoria, No.- 03; see also the Contemporary
Review, Dec. 1890.

C^^ THE CHOSEN PEOPLE.
The interesting discoveries in Northern Arabia have
afforded even more valuable information with regard
to the state of letters in those earl}' times. They have
demonstrated the great antiquity of the Minsean king
dom, and of the spread of its power from the south
of Arabia to the frontiers of Egypt and Palestine. It
preceded the rise of the Kingdom of Saba, the Sheba of
the Old Testament. We have been made acquainted
with the names of thirty-three Minaean sovereigns, cov
ering an extended period of time. Their subjects are
shown to have been a literary people; but the most
astonishing fact which has been discovered with regard
to them is that they used an alphabetic system of
writing, and their inscriptions are found not only in
their southern homes, but also in their colonies in the
north. These inscriptions are older than the oldest
known inscription in the Phcenician letters. The
Phcenician alphabet is probably derived from the
Mingean, or at least from one of the Arabian alphabets
of which the Minaean was the mother.
These discoveries of the great antiquity of alpha
betic writing among the people of Arabia have greatly
modified the vie"ws which have been current with
regard to the earlier history of the Old Testament.
It can no longer be assumed that the tribes to whom
the Israelites were related were illiterate nomads, and
that the people who were led out of Egypt by Moses
had no opportunity of making acquaintance with books
and written records, and of formulating their own laws
in a language cast in alphabetic form. No critic will
now maintain that letters were unknown in Israel
before the time of Samuel; for it has been shown that

LANGUAGE, ^5
the Oriental world, even in Northern Arabia, was a
literary one, and that in Canaan, before the Exodus,
education was carried to a high point. It had its
libraries, schools and pupils, even before the conquest.
The language of the chosen people is thus seen to
have assumed a peculiar character, both in its inner
sense and in its outward form. Its principal wealth
and strength consisted in its religious and ethical
element. It is probable that certain revelations of the Al
mighty were committed to writing soon after the time
of Abraham; yet such a period was permitted to
elapse before the coming of Moses and the formal con
struction of revelation as should suffice for the neces
sary development of the language under its alphabetic
form. During this period certain "words embodying
the new ideas concerning God came to have a recog
nized meaning, and certain forms of expression passed
into common use, and were thus clearly understood
before the Pentateuch was composed and the body of
Mosaic laws given to the people. At the same time,
the fact that the dialects of all the Semitic nations
between Assyria and Egypt were derived from one
, common type, and bore the same resemblance to each
other that French, Spanish and Italian bear to each
other at the present day, made the intercommunication
of thought with those people comparatively easy,
enabling: the Hebrews to communicate to them when
they desired a knowledge of their religious system.
A distinct providence, therefore, appears in the
choice of this peculiar people, invested with its rich
and flexible language. But there is still another

56 THE CHOSEX PEOPLE.
respect wherein the interposition of the Almighty is
distinctly apprehended.
THE SO-CALLED MONOTHEISTIC INSTINCT.
It has been claimed by some skeptical philosophers
of our own age that the Hebrews were the possessors
of a certain monotheistic instinct inclining them by
nature to the worship of one God, and out of which
their religious system was subsequently developed, and
therefore that no part of their endowment was divinely
given. M. Renan claims that the Jews had no other
revelation than that which they carried with them in the
blood of their veins, or read on the sands of the desert,
where there fathers had encamped. He says, in his
History of the Semitic Languages : " They never would
have reached the dogma of the divine unity had they not
found it in the most imperious instincts of their minds
and hearts. The desert is monotheist." This claim
is simply preposterous. The children of Abraham even
before the time of Moses on several occasions mani
fested idolatrous tendencies, and upon the first dis
appearance of Moses after their departure from Egypt
they forsook the worship of God, and set up the golden
calf in his stead. '^^' It is not necessary to call the
attentioa of the student of the Scriptures to the many
other instances in which the same idolatrous tendency
was displayed. They were never cured of it until the
Babylonish captivity. Max Mulier in his essay upon
Semitic Monotheism finally disposes of Renan 's theory.
His conclusion, though we cannot endorse its every
word, may be here quoted:
(15) See De Pressense's Religions Before Christ, p. 194.

THE SO CALLED .MONOTHEISTIC INSTINCT. 57
" If we are asked how this one Abraham possessed not only
the primitive intuition of God as he had revealed himself to
all mankind, but passed through the denial of all other gods to
the knowledge of the one God, we are cor tent to answer that
it was by a special divine revelation. We do not indulge in
theological phraseology, but we mean every word to its fullest
extent. The Father of truth chooses his own prophets, and he
speaks to them in a voice stronger than a voice of thunder. It
is the same inner voice through "which God speaks to all of us.
That voice may dwindle away and become hardly audible, but
it may also, from time to time, assume its real nature "with the
chosen of God and sound into their ears as a voice from heaven.
A "divine instinct" may sound more scientific and less theologi
cal, but in truth it would neither be an appropriate name for
what is a gift of grace accorded but to few, nor would it be a
more scientific, that is to say, a more intelligible word, than
" special revelation." The important point, however, is not
whether the faith of Abraham should be called a divine instinct
or a revelation. What we wish here to insist on is that that
instinct or that revelation w^as specially granted to one man and
handed down from him to Je"ws, Christians and Mohammedans,
to all who believe in the God of Abraham. Nor was it granted
to Abraham entirely as a free gift. Abraham was tried and
tempted before he was trusted by God. He had to break faith
with his fathers. He had to deny the gods who were worshipped
by his friends and neighbors. Like all the friends of God he
had to hear himself called an infidel, and an atheist; and in our
own days he would have been looked upon as a madman for
attempting to slay his son. It was through special faith that
Abraham received his special revelation, not through instinct
nor through abstract meditation, nor through ecstatic visions.
Even with the little we know of him he stands before us as a
figure second only to One in the whole history of the "world. "(I6)
Such were the characteristics and advantages which
the Hebrew shared in common with kindred races; such
were the features which distinguished him from them ;
and such was the divine addition to what we may call
(16) "Chips," 1:367.

^8 THE CHOSEN PEOPLE.
his natural endowments. The Almighty certainly
added a special revelation, the faith to receive it, and
the land in which it might be developed.

< ''¦lr)""'-'''isiit,..
,.. ^ ft '"¦ik.i.-

A PORTION OF ti-ie;

:MPIJ\E of ^GYj^T

UNDER RAMESES 11

iyi>.t[.BEX£MU-T d- C0..EXGEA\H1<, CilKAGO.

Part II.

Period of Seclusion : Semitic Supremacy.

"For even the scripture saifh unto Pharaoh; even for this same
purpose have I raised thee up, that I might show my power in thee,
and that my name might be declared throughout all the earth."
— Rom. ix: 17.

Chapter III: The Schooling of Israel.
Chapter IV: The Adoption of Israel.
Chapter V: "The Hope of Israel."

Chapter III.
THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
The history of the people of God before Christ, as
we have indicated in a preceding chapter, is divided
into three periods, that of Inclusion, of Seclusion, and
of Diffusion. Each of these periods is distinguished by
its own characteristic features. The first closed with
Abraham. The second is distinguished by the inde
pendent existence of the Hebrew nation, and also by
the preponderance of Semitic influence. The third is
distinguished by the loss of Hebrew independence and
the preponderance of Japhetic influence. Considering
these last two periods, the first has its outlook towards
Asia; the second towards Europe. The first period
is that of the Hebrew; the second, that of the Jew.
In the present work we are not concerned with the
history of those nations with whom the people of God
were never closely associated. Doubtless they all had
a share in preparing the way of the Lord, and the
study of their providential history is exceedingly in
teresting. But we content ourselves with an examin
ation of the history of such nations only as came in
contact with the people of Israel, confining ourselves
to the period during which they were associated.
The great Semitic empires had a calling to fulfill in
training the Hebrew for his own special mission, and
during the period of seclusion the purpose of God had
particular reference to the education of his chosen

(Si THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
people. This is the testimony of Scripture. A num
ber of quotations might be given of which the following
are illustrations. The Almighty in his message to
Pharaoh uses the following language, which may be
applied not only to Pharaoh but also to the people
whom he represented and over whom he ruled: "And
in very deed for this cause have I raised thee up for to
show in thee my power, and that m}' name may be
declared throughout all the earth."''' Subsequent
passages will be recalled in which distinct reference is
made to the schooling which Israel received in Egypt,
especially at the time of the Exodus. " He made
known his ways unto Moses, his acts unto the children
of Israel."'^'
So, then, when the Lord led Israel down into Egj'pt,
it was for the express purpose of putting him to school,
ancl the Egyptians should be his teachers. Let us
observe in the present chapter how the school was
conducted, and in the next the lessons which were
taught. ISRAEL LED INTO EGYPT.
The descendants of Abraham had developed into a
little clan. They numbered, all told, seventy souls, of
whom four — Joseph, his wife, and two sons, were in
the land of Egypt; and sixty-six remained in the land
of Canaan. Under the inspiration of the divine
promise they had already begun to feel the stirrings
of an incipient national life. The name "Israel," by
which they were forever after to be known, had been
assumed by them. It was a mysterious name, the
meaning of which they themselves alone understood, but
(1) Ex. ix: i6; Rom. ix: 17. (2) Ps. ciii: 7.

EGYPT UNDER THE HYKSOS. 6-1^
it foreshadowed both struggle and victory. There were
now twelve families of them, the progeny of a single
man, and with the promise of rapid increase. Already
there had been some collision between them and their
expatriated kinsmen of other clans, and there was
great danger lest in the conflicts that would certainly
ensue either with these or with alien tribes, they
should be overpowered by superior numbers and sub
stantially exterminated. They were but a ' ' httie flock, "
but since it was the " Father's good pleasure to give
them the kingdom," it became necessary that they
should be taken under the sheltering care of some
great power whereby their preservation and multipli
cation would be insured. For this the divine provi
dence now provided.
Three things were to be done for the chosen people
in the land of the Pharaohs : they were to be nourished,
instructed, and welded into a nation.
EGYPT UNDER THE HYKSOS.
The time of the Hebrews' entrance into Egypt was
most favorable to their reception, from the fact that
its northern portion was in the hands of a Semitic
people, from the same general section as their own
original fatherland. The native races had been driven
to the south, and the Hyksos, or "Shepherd Kings,"
were in possession of Lower Egypt.
The origin of these people has not yet been definitely
ascertained. Recent researches seem to point to
Mesopotamia as their native place, where, at the time
of their invasion of Egypt, important events were
taking place. The King of Elam invaded Babylonia,

64 THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
plundered the countr)', and carried away from the city
of Urukh to his capital, Shushan, a large amount of
spoil. It cannot be affirmed that the invasion of
Egypt is connected with this particular war, but it is
probable that the struggle between the Elamites and
the Mesopotamians brought about the Hjksos invasion
of Egypt. The Elamites themselves, did not probably
proceed as far as the Nile, but they drove out of the
country a mixed multitude, belonging probabl}' to
different races, which overran Egypt under powerful
leadership. This is the conclusion of M. Naville.'^'
If it is correct, the Hyksos cannot longer be considered
the barbarians that they were formerly supposed to
have been. They belonged to nations which had
already attained a high degree of civilization; and it
was for this reason that Egypt, under their dominion,
did not seriously suffer in its internal life. Its con
quest was signalized by devastation and ruin; but the
conquerors submitted to the influence of their more
refined subjects, and easily adopted the principal
features of their civilization, which was not altogether
unlike their own.
For nearly 500 years these peopie had sovereign
possession of the country; but in consequence of the
hatred with which they were regarded, and the
determination upon the part of the native princes, on
their restoration of power, to obliterate every trace of
their sovereignty, few remains of their dominion are
discovered to-day. The largest number and the most
interesting in character have been found within a
few years, at Bubastis, the Pi-Beseth of Scripture,'*'
(3) Journal of the Victoria Institute, No. 90. (4) Ezek. xxx: 17.

EGYPT UNDER THE HYKSOS. 65
which, though a ver}- ancient city,'^' became one of
the chief centers of Hyksos power. But as it was
adopted as a royal residence by later kings of native
dynasties, its Hyksos monuments were mutilated or
destroyed.'^' The case is the same throughout the
entire H5'ksos territory. There is now and then a
statue showing a fresh type of men, altogether distinct
from the natives of the countr}'. The faces are broad
and flat, the cheekbones are higher than those of the
Egyptians, the lips are thicker, the jaws are wider,
ancl the mouth is full of a stern determination. Their
hair and beards are dressed in a different way, and
their clothing, oftentimes consisting of the skins of
animals, indicates a more northern origin.
The first great leader of this singular people who
succeeded in bringing his fellow-rulers under his own
scepter was Salatis. It would appear from the accoimt
of Manetho, the Egyptian priest and scribe quoted by
Josephus, that this man was made head-king with the
consent and co-operation of the others, probabl}' from
their desire to secure a stronger central government.
While the successors of Salatis learned to adopt
Egyptian customs, and felt the influence of Egyptian
civilization, he himself was but a rude warrior, with no
superior attainments except those of a military char
acter. He fixed his royal residence at IMemphis, at
the apex of the Delta, midway between Upper and
Lower Egypt ; but he was very careful to fortify his
most exposed cities and garrison them against invasion.
He seemed to be more solicitous concerning the
(5) Egypt under the Pharaohs ,- Brugsch, I, 6, and II, 16
(6) For an account of these discoveries, see J/iss Ed-wards in the Cen
tury Magazine, Jan., 1890.

66 THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
warlike tribes upon the east, from whoin he himself had
proceeded, than on account of the conquered Egyp
tians on the south. He foresaw that the Assyrians
might endeavor to penetrate through the tribes upon
their west and make an attack upon the kingdom
which he had acquired, and it therefore became
especially important for him to guard the routes lead
ing from Egypt to the East. He therefore rebuilt and
fortified a city which he found upon the Pelusiac
branch of the Nile, and which on account of an old
religious legend with regard to the worship of the left
leg of Osiris was called Avaris (Ha-uar; " the place of
the leg ").''^' But he chose as his chief royal residence
the ancient city of Tanis, situated upon the Tanitic
branch of the Nile, twenty-two miles west of Avaris.
TANIS-ZOAN.
The city of Tanis, during his own reign and that of
subsequent H}'ksos, became a place of great size,
importance and splendor. To the student of providen
tial history it is the most interesting place in Egypt,
since it is intimately associated not only with the
coming of the Hebrews, but also with their departure.
A passage in the book of Numbers'^' informs us that
this city was built seven years after Hebron, which
was a well-known town at the time of the migration of
Abraham. In this passage, as elsewhere in the Bible,
the city is called Zoan, a form* of the Egyptian name,
Tanis being the name given to the place by the
(7) The site of Avaris is not definitely determined. By some author
ities it is identified with Tanis. Records of the Past, New Series ; Sayce,
II, 40. (8) Numb, xiii: 22.

TANIS-ZOAN. 67
Greeks. The references to it in the Scriptures arc
quite frequent, for the reasons which have been given;
and the Hebrews had special cause to remember it
because of the " marvelous things which the Lord did
in the sight of their fathers in the land of Egypt in the
field of Zoan."'^' This "field of Zoan," in the days
which we are considering, was a rich alluvial plain,
well adapted to the pursuits of those shepherds who
had entered Egypt under Salatis, and to the avocation
of Joseph's brethren, who were shepherds themselves.
Its character could not possibly be inferred from the
condition of the region to-day. It is now a barren
waste, and many miles of it have been covered
by the salt waters of Lake Menzaleh; but it was
then a section of great fertility and beauty.''"'
With King Salatis, then, and Tanis, begins the
Hyksos dominion, which was completed about 1900
B. C, and continued thence for at least four centuries.
The city of Tanis during this extended period was its
center and its glory.'"' Salatis himself dwelt in
Memphis for the greater part of the year, and came to
Tanis only at the period of harvest in order to collect
his tribute and review and discipline his troops, but
his successor made Tanis his capital, and it continued
so to be during the whole period of Hyksos domina
tion. Three dynasties of the Hyksos are known to the
(9) Ps. Ixxviii: 12.
(10) See Picturesque Palestine ; II, 361.
(11) See "The Storyof Tanis," by Miss Edwards; Harper s Magazine,
Oct., 1886. " Egypt under the Pharaohs ;" Brugsch, A'ol. I, ch. xi. The
dates, however, are made to correspond throughout with the marginal
chronology of the English Bible.

68 THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL,
students of Egyptian history, numbered in the records,
XV, XVI and XVII. The first of these ruled only in
the Delta. The second was supreme over the whole
country, the native rulers in Upper Egypt having
been reduced to mere tributaries, and their territory
divided among a number of petty princes. The third
dynasty felt the influence of the Egyptian revolt and
were obliged to fight for their place and power, and
were finally expelled from the country. The native
sovereigns who succeeded them cherished such an
exceeding aversion to their memory that, as has been
noted, they destroyed almost all of the records of
their reign, even the monuments which they left
being recut or broken into fragments. In conse
quence the names of but three Hyksos kings are
known to us, Salatis, the founder of the first dynasty,
and two kings with the same name Aphobis (Apepi).
The last Aphobis stands at the head of the third and
last dynasty of the Shepherd Kings. There is now
but little question among Egyptologists that it was
during his reign that the children of Israel entered
Egypt. But even before their coming other races of
the common stock had sought refuge in the country.
There is evidence from the monuments that the land
was colonized during many generations by Edomite
and Ishmaelite settlers, and the succeeding immigra
tion drew many even from distant Assyria. There
fore, it was not strange that when the famine
occurred in Canaan, the Hebrews should have fol
lowed a well-worn track and gone down into Egypt.

JOSEPH AT TANIS. Gc)
But there was a special reason for the migration of
the patriarchs, which we find by the Bible to have
been the advancement of their own brother to the
chief place in the kingdom. The promotion of Joseph
to the regency during the reign of the second Aphobis
is fully set forth in the early traditions of the Christian
Church, and receives very remarkable confirmation
from the monuments. An inscription at Eilethyia, in
Upper Egypt, relating to Baba, a captain under King
Taa III, by whom the Hyksos were expelled, contains
these words: "I collected corn as a friend of the
harvest god. I was watchful at the time of sowing,
and when a famine arose lasting many years, I
distributed corn to the city each year of the famine."
As a famine " lasting many years " is an occurrence
of the very greatest infrequency in Egypt, and as only
one such famine is known to history, this must be the
same as that which Joseph had foreseen and for which
he had provided, and definitely fixes his regency
under the reign of the king whom Christian tradition
has designated as his Pharaoh.''^'
There is also a celebrated papyrus in the British
Museum which dates from the fourteenth century B. C,
the age of the great Rameses. Dr. Brugsch describes
its contents as: "An ancient Egyptian fairy tale, the
oldest fairy tale in the world." It was composed by
a scribe named Anna for Seti II, the grandson of
Rameses II, when he was crown prince. The first por
tion of it has a remarkable resemblance to the story
of Joseph and Potiphar's wife, and there is little doubt
that the scribe worked into his tale the same incident
'i'^) Brugsch, Vol. I, ch. xii.

^o THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
which the Bible has recorded. The chief persons in
the tale are two brothers and the elder brother's wife.
The younger brother is falsely accused, very much as
Joseph was; flees from his brother's wrath, and, aided
by the Sun-god, experiences a peculiar transformation.
The woman meets a well-deserved fate, and the two
brothers are in the end reconciled, the younger
becoming king of Egypt and the elder his regent and
successor. From these and other evidences which are
furnished by tradition and history, it is now universally
conceded that Joseph was, as the Bible declares him to
have been, an Egyptian prime minister, and that his
king was Aphobis 11.''^'
We read in Genesis that " Pharaoh called Joseph's
name Zaphnath-paaneah, and he gave him to wife Ase
nath, the daughter of Poti-pherah, priest of On."''*' This
wife Asenath was the mother of his two sons, Ephraim
and Manasseh. Her father was the priest or " prince "
of On. This was the name given to a distinguished
city then at the height of its opulent and intellectual
influence, the site of which has in modern times been
well determined. The situation is marked by the
ruins of the modern town of Matariyeh, the suburb of
the old temple town of Heliopohs, half a mile distant.
The name occurs several times in the Bible. Ezekiel
calls it "Aven " and Jeremiah " Bethshemesh." This
last name is only a transcription into Hebrew, having
the same signification as Heliopolis in Greek, " The
City of the Sun." The name of the city doubtless
(13) A very instructive article, illustrating Joseph's life in Egypt by
the Egyptian records, will be found in the Journal of the Victoria Insti
tute, No. 57.
(14) Gen. xli: 45.

JOSEPH AT TANIS. 7 1
refers to the form of worship which was there
celebrated. It appears, therefore, from the Scriptures and from
the corroboration afforded by the Egyptian monu
ments that Joseph enjoyed special influence under
this shepherd king. He was also in a position to
confer special privileges upon his brethren. A certain
paragraph in the Bible story which has given consider
able trouble to historians and to commentators becomes
entirely intelligible in view of the facts which have
been stated. Joseph instructed his brethren, when the
king should call for them and ask, " What is your
occupation?" to answer, "Thy servant's trade has
been about cattle from our youth even until now, both
we and our fathers," and the same historian gives the
reason: "For every shepherd is an abomination
unto the Egyptians. "''°' The brethren of Joseph were
instructed to say that they were shepherds (which
was the truth with regard to them), hoping it would
bring them at once into favor with this king, who was
not an Egyptian by descent, but a foreigner. They would
thus be shown to be akin, not to the native princes on
the south, but to the invaders of the north, and might
thus be expected to become their faithful allies.''^'
The policy of Joseph in this instance displays his
usual wisdom. It was entirely successful. The He
brews at once entered upon the enjoyment of certain
special advantages in view of the fact that they
belonged to the same general stock as the Hyksos
kings, and especially ¦ in view of the fact that one of
(16) Gen. xlvi: 33, 34.
(16) See The Bible and Modern Discoveries ; Harper, p. 70.

72 THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
their own number occupied the second place in the
kingdom, and had already rendered distinguished
services. Thev were assigned to a choice section of
the country, which was set apart for them, known as
the land of Goshen. M. Naville locates this land in
the general region lying between the present city of
Belbeis and Tel el-Kebir. At that time it was not
one of the provinces of Egypt. It was an uncultivated
district, not divided among Egyptian inhabitants
regularly settled and governed, but a kind of waste
land sufficiently watered to produce good pasturage,
and which might be assigned to foreigners without
despoiling the native inhabitants. After the exodus
there is an allusion to the same section in a certain
Egyptian inscription in which we are told that " the
country near Bailos (Belbeis) was not cultivated, but
left as pasture for cattle."''^' There was thus only a
short distance between the royal residence of Joseph
and the territory allotted to his brethren. He settled
his family near himself in the section which was best
fitted for the breeding of cattle, and probably adjoin
ing the pastures given to the herds of the king,
which were at once entrusted to the keeping of
Joseph's brethren.''^' EXPULSION OF THE HYKSOS.
But the empire of the Hyksos was now upon the
eve of its decline. The same king who had made
Joseph his regent became involved in serious trouble
with the native princes upon the south. It would
appear that the power which was so long enjoyed had
(1") J'lctoria Institute, No. go. (18) Gen. xlvii: 6.

EXPULSION OF THE HYKSOS,

73

encouraged him to put upon them an indignity beyond
any which they had yet suffered and which even in
their weakness they were not prepared to tolerate.
Aphobis attempted to impose the wprship of his own
Semitic god, " Baal-Sutekh," upon the native races. At
this time, according to a papyrus in the British Museum,
there was an under-king in the south, Ra-Sekenen, by
name. He had incurred for some reason, which does
not appear, the special displeasure of the tyrant of
the north, who sought to hurl him from his throne,
and for this purpose manufactured a pretext to
carry out his intention. He required of him to give up
the worship of his own gods that Sutekh might be the
sole divinity of Egypt. Ra-Sekenen made a reply to the
king's messenger, which is lacking, owing to the
mutilation of the papyrus. We know that the foreign
messenger was hospitably entertained and sent back
to the court of his king, while Ra-Sekenen in all haste
called his counsellors about him, and while they were
silent in their great apprehension and grief, himself
determined what he would do. The details of the
history cannot here be given.''^' It is enough for us
to record that Ra-Sekenen inaugurated the successful
uprising of the native Egyptians against the foreign
tyrants, and became the Garibaldi of Egyptian
independence. The native Egyptians chose him for
their leader and elevated him to the sovereignty,
wherein he assumed the name of Ta-Aken as his
royal designation. He was a capable, judicious and
brave man, and finally fell in battle fighting for the
(19) A translation of the papyrus is given by Prof. Maspero, in Records
of the Past, New Series, Vol. II, 40. Prof. Maspero, however, is inclined
to treat the story as a historical romance.

74

THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.

independence of his people. His body was hastily
embalmed, taken to Thebes and buried. A wonderful
surprise, by the wa}', was in store for the world when
his mummy was at last discovered. From the
description of its appearance published by Prof. Mas
pero, ''¦^°' we quote the following sentence:
" Ta-Aken was about forty years old at the time of his
death. He was tall, slender, and to judge by what remains of
the muscles of the shoulder and thorax, he must have been a
singularly powerful man. His head was small, long, barrel-
shaped, and covered with fine black, curly hair, worn in long
locks. The eye was large and deep set, the nose straight and
broad at the bridge, the cheek bones prominent, the jaw
massive, the mouth of large size, somewhat projecting and fur
nished with good, sound teeth."
The wounds of the warrior are then described, and
finally: " The ears are gone and there are scarcely any signs of beard
or of mustache. Fa-Aken had been shaved on the very morn-
ing of the battle, arraying himself like the god Montu."
This discovery assumes great importance in view of
a criticism which has been passed upon the following
statement in Scripture history: "Then Pharoah sent
and called for Joseph, and they brought him hastily
out of the dungeon; and he shaved himself and came
in unto Pharaoh." It has been declared that this state
ment shows that the book of Genesis was written
many years after the times of which it speaks,
as " the Egyptians never shaved. Their pride was
in having an exuberant head and chin of hair." But
here at last comes the actual mummy of a native
(30) See Records of the Past, Ne-w Series. Vol. II, p. 37. See also an
instructive series of articles on " The Egyptian Bondage," in Every
Thursday, beginning Oct., '90.

RA.UESES II. {SESOSTRIS.) 'JC^
Egyptian prince, a very prominent man at that,
"shaved on the morning of the battle."
The conflict between the native and foreign princes
lasted many years, until the Hyksos were driven into
their last strongholds in the Delta. They were finally
besieged in the city of Tanis, their capital, which was
sacked and its inhabitants slaughtered, while the great
temple of the god Sutekh (whose imposed worship
had been the occasion of the revolution by which the
native princes were re-invested with dominion) was
burned with fire. RAMESES II. (SESOSTRIS.)
The dynasty which followed the expulsion of the
Shepherds displayed physical vigor and intellectual
power beyond any that Egypt had as yet seen. Under
its kings the foreigners were followed into Asia, and
still further humiliated, and the Egyptian conquests
were extended until almost all Syria had fallen under
their yoke. Rameses II. , the Great, who is known as
the Pharaoh of the Oppression, was the third sovereign
of this dynasty. He was the greatest of all the kings
of Egypt. His reign was distinguished by an intel
lectual and political renaissance in which the power
and glory, which had been on the increase from the
accession of his grandfather, culminated.
The most remarkable of all the facts in connection
with him, however, and without which his remarkable
character and career cannot be fully explained, is this :
that he was not an Egyptian but an Assyrian by descent.
Historians have been always perplexed by his peculiar
ities. They were convinced that he did not belong to

76 THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
the pure Egyptian race. Years ago Lenormant called
attention to the classical regularity of his features,
denoting an origin drawn from some other people
than the descendants of Ham.'~'' There were also
indications that the race from which he was descended
was allied to that of the Shepherds, many of whose
followers, notwithstanding the wars of extermination,
still remained in the delta of the Nile. As though in
keeping with this theory, an inscription discovered at
Tanis records the re-establishment by Rameses of the
worship of the national deity of the Hyksos in their
ancient capital — of which more hereafter. The reader
is familiar with the " Finding of Pharaoh " in July,
1 88 1, by Emil Brugsch Bey. In connection with this
remarkable discovery it has been finally determined
that Rameses the Great is the explanation of the
hitherto enigmatical statement of Isaiah: " Thus saith
the Lord God, My people went down aforetime into
Egypt to sojourn there, and the Assyrian oppressed
them ivithoid cause.'''' ^"''
At the time of the accession of Rameses, and doubt
less owing largely to his authority, Semitic influences
preponderated in Egyptian affairs. The coming of
the Semitic hordes had produced in Egypt very much
the same effect which the incursion of the northern
barbarians produced upon Italy in the early centuries
of our own era. At first they blighted and wasted
that which they had overcome; but after a time the
infusion of fresh blood reinvigorated the effete people,
and the outcome was a new Egypt, as subsequentlv it
(21) Ancient History of the East ; Book III, chap. iii.
(32) Is. lii: 4. Sec Uarda ; George Ebers; chaps, ix and xxvi.

RAMESES II. {SESOSTRIS.) y7
was a new Italy. Egyptian civilization experienced
a new birth. Egypt became young again. Satiated
with the traditions of thousands of years which had
now vanished into the past, they found a positive
pleasure in the fresh and lively vigor of the Semitic
spirit. There was a new generation of poets, histori
ans, sculptors and architects; and the age of Rameses
was to Egypt what the age of the Medici was to Italy.
The most flourishing period of Egyptian history was
introduced. Egyptian art and literature attained their
highest perfection, while both show distinct traces of
Semitic influence.'"^' The Egyptian language is at
this point enriched with foreign expressions. The
letters and documents of the time are full of Semitic
words. The scribes seem to have felt a sentimental
craving for the use of them, without any real necessit}',
in order to give to themselves, in the eyes of the public,
an air of learned culture. At the head of the long
list of graceful and distinguished writers stands the
poet Pentaur, the Homer of Egypt, some of whose
productions have come down to us. It is for such
reasons, therefore, derived from the condition of affairs
at this juncture, that we are justified in characterizing
the Egyptian domination during the entire period of
Hebrew residence as Semitic.
Rameses himself is the fiower and crown of the
age. He has extended his empire both south and
east, until Ethiopia, Arabia, Syria, and even a portion
of Mesopotamia, have been added to it.'^' He is a
man of such remarkable physical power as to be able
(23) See " Uarda," chap. viii.
^) Ancient History ; Rawhnson, 84.

78 THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
single-handed to overcome a host of enemies, and in
the thick of the fight to cut his way through opposing
numbers, even after his charioteer has been slain, and
he must not only wield his weapons, but guide his
horses also. His great muscular power is associated
also with remarkable physical endurance. He surpasses
all other Egyptian monarchs in the length of his reign,
which lasts for sixty-seven years. He is a man of
intense activity. He is the greatest of all Egyptian
builders. His monuments cover the soil of Egypt and
Nubia in incredible numbers. There is scarcely a
ruin that does not bear his name. Some of the most
remarkable temples were built by him, notably the
celebrated Ramesseum of Thebes, and the rock
Temple of Ipsamboul. '^^' The former building was a
splendid monument, and one of the most perfect of
Egypt. " As we stand in the shadow of its mighty columns," says a
certain writer, "we begin to realize the majesty of the Theban
sanctuary and the magnificence of the king who could rear such
a temple to his praise. There on the pylons was the spectacle
of his triumphs. Above all, the supreme scene where, de
serted by his body-guard, and surrounded by the enemy,
Rameses throws himself into the thick of the fray, with single
arm deals death around, kills with his own hand the chief of
the Hittites, and crushes the fleeing foe under his chariot wheels;
and when his ofiicers crowd around him with servile solicitations,
denounces them for their cowardice." (36)
The colossal portrait-statue of Rameses, with which
this temple was adorned, was the most gigantic figure
which the Egyptians ever carved out of a single block
(35) See Hours -with the Bible ; Geike, II, 76.
(36) Picturesque Palestine, II, 433. " Uarda," ch. xlvii.

A PORTION OF THE RAMESSEUM.

TANIS RE-BUILT. 70
of granite. It was fifty feet in height, and weighed
nearly 1200 tons. TANIS RE-BUILT.
But in the providence of God, and in order that the
divine control of human affairs might be distinctly set
forth and emphasized, Rameses was led to select for
his permanent abode and chief royal residence the
ancient capital of the Hyksos. For 300 years Tanis
had lain in ruins, but for the divine purpose connected
with the emancipation of the chosen people, it must be
rebuilt, and Rameses, the oppressor of the Israelites,
is the king who is selected to do the work.
Although he had raised his monument in Thebes,
and held public court in Memphis, and dedicated a
temple in Heliopolis, yet no one of these was to be his
permanent abode. His dominions were so extensive
towards the east and north that it became necessary
for him to reside in some city in the northern part of
Egypt, and therefore at his royal command Tanis
arose from its ruins. Its fortifications were strength
ened. It was magnificently adorned. Ebers has given
us some idea of the splendor with which the king
surrounded himself in a description of his ro}-al palace
at Thebes. He tells us that it was more like a little
town than a house. The part for use by the royal
family commanded a view of the Nile, from which it
offered to the passing vessels a pleasing prospect, as it
stood amidst its gardens and its picturesque buildings.
It contained immense state rooms and a banqueting
hall, and comprised three rows of pavilions of different
sizes, extending in symmetrical order. These were

8o THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL
connected with each other by collonades or by little
bridges, under which flowed canals that watered the
gardens and gave the palace the aspect of a town
upon islands. The walls and pillars, and even the
roofs, blazed with many colors, and at every gate rose
tall masts, from which red and blue flags streamed
when the king was in residence.'^"'
Such was Thebes; but Thebes would be eclipsed by
Tanis. It was the design of Rameses to make of
Tanis not only a magnificent royal residence, but also
a temple-city, — the holy places of which should be
dedicated to the great gods of the country, with whom
he associated the worship of the ancient god of the
Shepherd Kings (Sutekh), whose capital Tanis had
been in the days of their domination. With the
newly-established divinities the king himself was
taken as a model, both in his likeness and in his names,
and each god appeared in order under the sculptured
form of Rameses, until finally Sutekh himself is
represented by his effigy.'**' The great temple of Ra
was, however, the crowning work of this royal builder.
It was substantially a temple to Rameses himself, and
his immense portrait-statue 90 feet in height, 120 feet
with the pedestal, was erected beside its entrance.
Here, then, is established the capital of the Oppres
sor of the Hebrews. The time came when it was
necessary to communicate to the Hebrews an intense
national spirit, a vital bond of sympathy, a positive
hatred for the land of the heathen among whom they
dwelt, and a fervent desire to return to the country
(37) Uarda, ch. xxi. See also Ebers' " Egypt," Vol. I, p. 97.
(28) Brugsch, II, 99. Uarda, ch. xx.

THE OPPRESSION. 8 1
which God had promised unto their fathers. To
accomplish these things it was permitted, in the
providence of God, that they should be brought into
a condition of the most abject and painful serfdom,
under the kings who had succeeded to the throne
from which the Hyksos had been hurled, who had no
affection for their favorites, and who "knew not
Joseph." THE OPPRESSION.
The political unity of Israel is now to be affected.
They are to be separated from the Egyptians, and
welded into a distinct nation.
No lesson is more plainly taught to us by history
than this : that common suffering has been the most
potent of all factors in the creation of a national spirit
and a national life. Through this experience, there
fore, the Hebrews must pass, and Rameses the Great
shall be their oppressor. Although he is a descendant
of Shem, yet he is an Assyrian, not a Syrian, and
therefore with no sympathy for those whom he
regarded as Canaanites. His overpowering ambition
and tremendous building designs are therefore well
served by taking advantage of the Egyptian hatred of
foreigners; and particularly of all who were in any
way related to the expelled Shepherd Kings. So he
sent the Hebrews into his brick yards. '^^' The result
was a protracted and galling bondage, the character of
which is fully set forth upon the Egyptian monuments.
His slaves were branded with a hot iron to prevent
(29) A fine description of the hardships endured in the brick-yards, as
shown by recent discoveries, in Harper's Bible and Modern Discoveries,
ch. ii.

82 THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
their flight and to facilitate their re-capture. Most of
them were kept in Egypt; but large numbers were
sent to the quarries on the borders of Ethiopia, or to
the mines of Arabia Petrsea, beyond the Red Sea.'^'
The king also entered into an alliance with the Syr
ians, by whose terms it was expressly agreed that
fugitive slaves should be returned to him. The oldest
diplomatic document extant, which has been preserved
in an inscription at Thebes, is the text of a treaty
between Rameses and the Hittites, upon the River
Orontes, with whom he had been at war, but with
whom a final treaty of peace had been concluded. The
document stipulates for perpetual peace and alliance
between the two nations, and the two kings recipro
cally promise to give no asylum each to the servants
or subjects of the other who may have left their own
country :
" If there flee away of the inhabitants (one from the land of
Egypt) or two or three, and they betake themselves to the great
king of Khita, (the great king of Khita shall not) allow them
(to remain but he shall) deliver them up and send them back to
Ramessu Miamun, the great prince of Egypt. In the same
way shall it be done if inhabitants of the land of Khita take to
flight, be it one alone or two or three, to betake themselves to-
Ramessu Miamun, the great prince of Egypt. Ramessu
Miamun the great prince of Egypt shall cause them to be seized
and they shall be delivered up to the great king of Khita." (^i)
It is perfectly evident, however, that Pharaoh was
the greater gainer by this treaty. The construction of
his works was attended with an expenditure of human
misery of which we can scarcely conceive. The
buildings which he erected were more numerous than
(30) See Uarda, ch. xxxiv.
(31) Egypt under the Pharaohs ; II, 76.

THE OPPRESSION. 83
those of all the other kings of Egypt for two thousand
years, and they required him to press into his service
all the population he could venture to enslave. It fills
the mind with horror to think of the thousands of
prisoners or forced laborers who must have died
under the blows of their drivers, or under the weight
of privations and toil, which were often suffered
without any intermission, days and nights- together
being sometimes consumed without any rest. Even
the native population had to suffer. A letter of the
period is still extant which tells how the tax-collector
at the wharf of the district was accustomed to receive
the government share of the crops. His men were
armed with clubs and with batons of palmwood, cry
ing out "Where is thy wheat?" There was no way
of checking their exactions. If they were not satis
fied with the government share the poor wretch was
seized, thrown upon the ground, bound and dragged
off to the canal at hand, where he was thrown in.
His wife was bound, and she and his children enslaved.
The tasks to which these slaves were set included all
that the plans of Rameses demanded. They were
marched in gangs to the quarries to hew out huge
blocks of stone. They dragged them with their own
arms, like beasts of burden, to their respective desti
nations, urged on by the lash of the driver. They
dug canals; they made bricks and mixed mortar, for
the countless buildings always in course of erection;
they built dikes along the Nile, and the canals by
which its waters were conducted to the lands. We
may still see them, in the pictures upon the monuments,
naked under the burning sun, working like pieces of

84 THE SCHOOLIXG OF ISRAEL.
machinery in " all manner of service, in the field
wherein they made them serve with rigor." Says an
inscription of the period: " It is very hard to make the
smooth road on which the Colossus is to slide along;
but how unspeakably harder to drag the huge mass
like beasts of burden." There was no machinery and
little mechanical help. The strain was wholly upon
human muscles and sinews. " The arms of the work
man," continues the inscription^ " are utterly worn
out. His food is a mixture of all things vile. He can
wash himself only once in a season." The oppression
of the Egyptian rulers has always been very great.
As late as the reign of Pharaoh Necho 100,000 men
were sacrificed in excavating for a single canal.
Thirty thousand died in this ver}' century in a similar
task, digging out the earth from the trench with their
hands, without picks or spades or wheelbarrows.'^^'
A recent traveler in Egypt describes a scene illustrat
ing the oppression of the people of Israel in connection
"with the inauguration of the Suez Canal. A journey
was taken across the desert upon an imposing carriage
way constructed for the special benefit of the French
Empress. The inundation, which was inore extensive
than usual, had carried away at different points a mile
or two of the embankment along the ridge of which
the path was laid. Frightful gullies had been washed
out and the earth distributed over the plains, and
gangs of men, women and children were put to work
at the repairs. The writer says:
" All along the way we hurried through them, and there
is no doubt we saw the old scenes of the bondage of Israel
{i'>') Hours -with the Bible : \\, 77.

THE OPPRESSION. gt
reproduced on nearly the same soil. There were taskmasters,
with stick in hand, squatting lazily on the banks, indolent even'
in observation, requiring almost to be waked up in order to
receive the reckonings reported to them.
There must have been at least two or three thousand people
at work. They swarmed over the wide excavations from
which they took their earth like so many brown ants bearing
sand grains. Each had a small shallow basket on his head.
You could not make it hold more than about a peck. These
they all filled by scooping up the soil with their hands. Then
tossing them up they caught them dextrously upon their heads
and walked listlessly over the long way to the place of deposits,
tipped them over again and then squatted beside the feeble
little heaps to pat them level with their palms. It seemed so
insignificant as a piece of actual enterprise that we could hardly
believe they were not deep in the laboriousness of our early
childhood making dirt pies in sand.
Every now and then one of the unclad creatures would come
timidly up to the overseer to report numbers of baskets or hours
of time, and with an immense deliberation, the ink-stand at his
belt would be unloosed, the reed pen carefully tested on the
thumb nail, and the fragment of paper spread out over the left
hand to be slowly written upon with the right, as the tally was
entered. If anything seemed short, a quick rush of rage filled
the taskmaster's cheek and the whack of his stick sent the
laborer off to his toil.
The spirit of these poor creatures was intensely desolate, their
countenances seemed positively forlorn, everything was hopeless,
and the uneasy sense of wrath in some of the eyes as they saw
rich people lying at ease upon satin cushions in their equipages,
was harsh with menace for the future of Eg3'pt.
I heard one of the fellaheen songs which Dean Stanley
describes. Egypt never changes, and the sympathetic ear can
listen to the same moans that Moses heard. Tliere on the same
soil one often sees the whip and shrinks from the whistling
crack of it as it falls on the bare back of man or maiden, boy or
girl; and there is the muttering of the same old taunting strain
under one's breath, full of wild revenge and of hissing hatred,
the moment a poor creature is just out of earshot of the tor
mentors: 'The chief of the village, the chief of the village!

86 THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
may the dogs tear him, tear him in pieces ! The chief of the
village, may the dogs tear him, tear him I ' " (33)
But we can scarcely believe that such miser}- even
as this approached in depth and severity the misery of
the captive Israelites. The Scripture says that " the
Egyptians made the children of Israel to serve with
rigor." The word " rigor " is an unusual one. Moses
employs it only in two connections. According to the
dictionaries it is a medical term signifying a sudden
coldness attended by shivering, a convulsive shudder
ing with tightening of the skin, that last stiffening of
the muscles which follows dissolution, the unfailing
sign of death, the rigor mortis. The sense of the
Hebrew word is thus correctly conveyed, and indicates
a degree of pain beyond the comprehension of those
who have never seen such bondage as that to which
the Israelites were subjected.
EGYPTIAN IDOLATRY.
So again there began to appear another illustration
of the "fullness of time." The Hebrews had suffered
until their agonies became intolerable, and had learned
therein the lessons of their bitter schooling. All
things were ready for their deliverance. But on the
part of the Egyptians, and in order to complete the
"fullness," the moral debasement and blasphemous
assumptions of their oppressors was now such as to
demand a rebuke from the God of the Hebrews, and
in the face of their defiance of his divine authority to
make his power and glory known.
The mighty warrior and statesman, whose life was
{^) Every Thursday ,N o\. i. No. ii.

EGYPTIAN IDOLATRY. 87
now drawing to a close, intoxicated with his power,
had presumed to lord it not only over the citizens of
the earth, but over the whole pantheon of heaven as
well. He had deified himself. The very priests of
Egypt which heretofore seemed to have governed the
country, were now governed by their deified sovereign.
His is the colossal figure that sits repeated again and
again at the entrance of every temple. He is the
frontispiece of every gate-way, to whom the gods de
livered the sword of destruction with the command to
" slay." His image in the interior of the temple is
brought into the most familiar relations with the high
est powers, their equal in form and majesty, sitting
beside them arm in arm in the recesses of the most
holy places. The one king who towers above all the
others in the long succession of Egyptian monarchs
as the great promoter, as well as the great object of
idolatry, is Rameses II. , the oppressor of the Israelites.
But as it had been in Chaldsea at the time of Abra
ham's migration, and as it was subsequently in similar
junctures, this culmination of political power and of
idolatry was accompanied by excessive immorality.
The religious rites of the Egyptians were most debas
ing in their effects upon the popular character. How
could it be otherwise with those who adored such
animals as the crocodile, the beetle, the ape and the
serpent. Such creatures were regarded as sacred.
Priests were maintained in their honor, magnificent
temples built for their reception, grand festivals held
in their praise, and popular lamentations made at their
death. To kill one was a capital crime. Long after the
time of which we are speaking, Clement of Alexandria

88 THE SCHOOLING OF ISRAEL.
expressed the feeling of the outside world towards this
strange religion. He said:
" The hoi}' places of the temples are hidden by great veils
of cloth of gold. If you advance towards the interior of
the building, you see a statue of the god. A priest comes
to you with a grave air, chanting a hymn, and lifts a corner of
the gorgeous curtain to show you the divinity. But what do
you see? A cat, a crocodile, a serpent, or some other dangerous
animal. The god of the Egyptians appears. It is a beast,
tumbling about upon a carpet of purple! "
Strabo gives an account of his visit to a certain
sacred crocodile. He says:
" Our host took cakes, broiled fish, and a drink prepared witii
honey; and went towards the lake. The brute lay on the
bank whither the priests went to him. Two of them opened
its jaws and a third put into its mouth first the cakes, then the
fish, and finally poured the drink down its throat."
In the days of Moses rich people spent immense
sums on the funeral of a sacred cat. Their household
had its sacred bird which fed with the family during
its life, and was carefully embalmed and buried with
with them after its death. '^'' The holiest thing in
Thebes was the heart of a ram.'^'
It is no wonder that the race which honored such
divinities sunk into the deepest degradation. If these
were their gods, what could they believe themselves
to be.^ Their king, who had assumed divine prero
gatives, treated them as his slaves. If any portion of
the soil were left to them it was an act of pure grace.
In fact, there were no "people" in Egypt; but only
the king, priests and slaves. There was no sympathy
for the suffering multitudes, and the multitudes, sunk
(33) Hours with the Bible; II, 6i.
(34) See Uarda, ch. xxiii.

EGYPTIAN IDOLATRY. 89
in their unspeakable misery, sought compensation in
immorality. The whole race gave the reign to their
baser passions, for why should a man be better than
his gods.'* Unnatural vice prevailed. Universal and
open impurity marked their great religious festivals.
They became beasts themselves. Thus the blasphemy
of Pharaoh, the iniquity of his people, and the misery
of the Hebrews together attained their extreme limit;
and now in this city of Tanis, in which Joseph had
ruled as regent, and in which Rameses, the deified
king, defies all gods but himself, the Almighty will
declare himself. His messenger will soon appear be
fore the son of Rameses with the startling demand:
" Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, let my people

¦^•-l

Jls2

Xo. 1. SETI I.

No. 3. R.\ MIOSES II.

Xo. S. MIXEPTAH II.

Xo. 4. SETI II.

THE PHARAOHS OF THE I5(1XI)A(;K.

Chapter IV.
THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
The old Jewish proverb declares: "When the tale
of bricks is doubled, Moses comes." The proverb con
tains a more profound principle than that which is or
dinarily found therein. It does not mean merely this:
that deliverance often arises just when misery is most
abject. Such, indeed, is not always the case. But
inasmuch as the " tale of bricks" was imposed by
special divine permission and for a special purpose;
and inasmuch as Moses was God's own ambassador,
whose coming was directly connected with the same
purpose for whose accomplishment the tale of bricks
was doubled, the proverb teaches that in the provi
dence of God the divine intervention in behalf of his
people and his truth is so timed as to correspond with
the supreme arrogance of falsehood and the extreme
insolence of iniquity. This constitutes the "fullness
of time," not only in that final juncture to which the
term is ordinarily applied, but also in those less im
portant instances which prefigure it and prepare its
way. We have now arrived at the second great illustra
tion of the principle, and are prepared to observe the
method of the divine intervention. The tale of bricks
has been doubled; Moses is about to appear.

92 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
THE TRAINING OF MOSES.
It is not necessary to dwell on those details of the
life of Moses which are found in the Scripture, as the
reader is already familiar with them. The course of
divine providence, however, appears the more remark
able when viewed in the light of modern discoveries.
The Scriptural account of the infancy of Moses is
confirmed by a romantic story contained in the clay
tablets of Mesopotamia, whence his ancestry was de
rived. It runs thus:
" I am Sargon, the great king. My mother was of the mas
ters of the land ; but I never knew my father. I was born
secretly on the banks of the Euphrates. My mother put me
in an ark of bullrushes lined with bitumen, and laid me in the
river which did not enter the ark. It bore me to the dwelling
of Akki, the water-carrier, and he, in the goodness of his heart,
lifted me from the water and brought me up as his own son.
After this he established me as a gardener and Ishtar caused me
to prosper, and after many years I came to be king."(i)
It may be that Jochebed, the mother of the infant
Moses, had preserved this story among the traditions
of her father's house — this Sargon being the king during
whose reign Abraham left Chaldaea. There has not yet
been discovered any extended notice of Moses among
the Egyptian records, though there is an unquestioned
reference to him in the name of an island in middle
Egypt which is called len-Moshe, the " Island of
Moses." The place is mentioned in the reign of Ra
meses IIL, about one hundred years after the death of
the great Rameses.
The daughter of the king, however, the foster-mother
of Moses, is mentioned, and her history is tolerably
(1) Hours -with the Bible ; II, 91.

THE UNIVERSITY OF THEBES. g-]
well known. Rameses had in all sixty sons and fifty-
nine daughters, of which twenty-three sons and thir
teen daughters were by his wives. The foster-mother
of Moses was one of the youngest of the latter. Her
name, according to the monuments, was Meri or Mer-
ris.'^' She is called by Josephus Thermuthis.'^' She
was probably born at Tanis and was only " a young
miss," as we would say, when she adopted Moses as
her son. THE UNIVERSITY OF THEBES.
Under the care of Thermuthis the future laweriver
of the Hebrews received the best training which it
was possible for an Egyptian princess to bestow upon
her son. There can be very little doubt that he re
ceived the larger part of his education within the
walls of a great building whose remains are still
standing at Thebes. This structure was " The House
of Seti." It is now known as the temple of Qurnah
(or Kourneh). It was founded by Rameses I. soon
after he had seized upon the Egyptian throne, but was
carried to completion by his son, Seti I., whose name
it consequently bore. It was the center of a group of
buildings, all connected, which served purposes similar
to those of a great modern university, except that in
the House of Seti theology was taught as the central
and supreme science. Great sums had been expended
in the establishment of this university, and large re^•-
enues were required for the maintenance of its priest
hood and the support of its various branches. Its
founder designed in it to eclipse the glory of the older
(2) Brugsch ; II, ch. xiv. W Antiquities; II, ix.

94 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
institutions at Heliopolis and Memphis, and for a time
at least it was their successful rival.
In this university all grades were united. There
was first an elementary department from which the
pupils passed by examination to a still higher school.
In this second grade the pupil chose for himself a mas
ter in one of the special branches of learning, by whom
he was conducted step by step to the completion of his
course. E"\'ery profession was opened to him, and his
preparation for the vocation of his choice could be here
obtained. He might become an astronomer, physician,
lawyer, or priest ; and if he aspired successfully to the
highest of all professions and became a "scribe," his
fame and fortune were secured. Henceforth he would
be supported at royal expense, and thus be free to
prosecute his studies without care, for the glory of
Egypt and its gods.
Rameses the Great was educated in this university,
its chief patron being his own father. We can there
fore scarcely imagine anything else than that his
daughter's adopted son should be sent to the same
school of which he was himself a graduate. More-
ever, if Moses Avas trained " in all the w^isdom of the
Egyptians," his education must have proceeded under
the best of care and have extended to many branches
represented in the university. It is no disparagement
to the special revelation which he received from God
in the Holy Mount to believe that the intellectual
foundation upon which it was superimposed was laid
in Moses' youth while he was in attendance upon the
schools of the House of Seti. Indeed we are taught
to see herein the special direction of divine provi-

THE HOUSE OF SETI.

THE UNIVERSITY OF THEBES. 95
dence that Moses, being " a goodly child " to begin
with, should have been adopted by such a woman as
Thermuthis and by her sent to the greatest university
of the world.
In this university, Moses would have studied the
principles of law, medicine, architecture, engineering
and theology. Tradition says that he also took a spe
cial course in music at Heliopolis. In some branches
of science, to be sure, the knowledge of his teachers
seem crude compared with the attainments of scholars
of our own day.
But the actual proficiency of the professors in the
House of Seti is not emphasized in this connection, but
only their relative accomplishments. They were the
wisest teachers of the age, and Moses sat at their feet.
Indeed it is only in the single department of medicine
that their science appears ridiculous; yet even in this
department both their theory and practice were far
from contemptible.
They had given careful attention to every separate
organ of the body, except the heart, from the study of
v>rhich they were restrained by religious scruples. An
atomy had been carefully studied for centuries before
Moses saw the light ; and, when he entered the House
of Seti, it formed only a single branch of a very com
plex system.
The medical faculty was divided between surgeons,
dentists, oculists and other specialists, each giving ex
clusive attention to his own department. Hygiene in
particular, which is ever the larger and more import
ant section of medicine, was taught with the most ex
tensive and intelligent knowledge of its laws.

96 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
But whatever may be said with regard to the medi
cine of the Egyptians, certainly no reflection can be
cast upon their knowledge of such arts as engineering
and architecture. In all such branches they were ex
perts, nor have they ever been surpassed.'*'
Under such teachers, then, Moses received his edu
cation and discipline; and even after the completion of
his course he had the opportunity to prosecute his
studies still farther in the great consulting libraries of
his day. The library of the Ramesseum at Thebes,'^^
over the gate of which were inscribed the words, "For
the healing of the soul," contained twenty thousand
volumes, some of these being rolls one hundred feet in
length! It was built, as we have already indicated, by
the father of the patroness of Moses. This library is
often mentioned in Egyptian records; two of its libra
rians v/ere sufficiently celebrated to be accorded a
pompous burial, and their tombs are still to be seen at
Thebes. But this was not the only library in Egypt
in the time of Moses. Others are mentioned upon the
monuments, which he must have had the privilege of
consulting. In fact the temples all contained libraries,
many of them including valuable collections.
It appears, then, that the same discrimination which
was exercised in the calling of Abraham, and in the
designation of other great agents of the Almighty, was
displayed in the selection of Moses as the leader of the
Hebrew people. When he came to age he was the
choicest young man of his day, and every way fitted
to become the leader of the people of God out of the
(0 See Uarda, ch. ii, and Homiletic Revie-w ; "\'ol. XIX, Nos. I and 3.
(5) A plan of the building is found in Brugsch, II, xiv.

THE UNIVERSITY OF THEBES, 97
house of Egyptian bondage. He had inherited the
Jewish faith to which was united an Egyptian training.
He had been invested with Egyptian honors. In his
address before the council Stephen remarks that Moses
was not only " learned in all the wisdom of the Egyp
tians," but that he was also " mighty in words and in
deeds." '^' Josephus claims that he conducted a suc
cessful campaign against the Ethiopians, in which he
overcame peculiar obstacles and superior numbers by
a series of ingenious strategems.'''' According to the
Jewish tradition he was even designated as the succes
sor of the Egyptian high-priest, in which capacity he
would have exercised an influence second only to that
of the king, and in many respects superior to his.
By such means, therefore, Moses knew not only his
own people, the Hebrews, but he knew their oppres
sors as well, from the king on the throne to the priests
in their temples, and to the very laborers in the field.
He knew luxury and misery equally well. His sym
pathy with his own people had taught him much con
cerning- the sufferings which he had never himself en-
dured, while he was intimately acquainted with the
ruhng house and the royal priesthood, understanding
their principles and their policy.
THE CHOICE OF MOSES.
But, " It came to pass when Moses was grown that
he went out unto his brethren and looked on their bur
dens." '^^ It is not possible for us to put into words the
full force of Scripture with regard to the decision
(6) Acts, vii -.22. (8)Ex. ii:ii.
('i')Antiquides; II, 10.

98 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
which was then effected — the anxiety of his parents
and relations who had watched his course from in
fancy; the hopes that centered in him; the doubt as to
his course of procedure when he arrived at manhood,
and the issue of it all. Who could prophecy in ad
vance that when Moses came to years he would " re
fuse to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter.? "'°'
We know how we are affected in our own age by
circumstances somewhat similar. The period of youth
is like the early days of spring. There is little evi
dence of life in the trees and flowers and grass about
us, and we are unconscious of the silent forces that are
at work in root and branch and bud, all tending unto
and waiting for their magniflcent unfolding. But some
day — it seems as though it all took place in an hour — ¦
a mighty change is apparent and nature gives one glo
rious " leap from April into June." The wind changes
to the south, the clouds roll up mass upon mass, the
echoing thunders sound the trumpet call of the victori
ous forces of the summer season, and the warm rain
falls like heavenly mercies on the waiting earth. When
the clouds break away again it is bright and balmy;
the grass is green, the buds have broken, the birds are
singing, the whole face of nature is changed, and we
exclaim, " Summer has come at last." So with the
boy when he "comes to years;" just so silently and
yet so surely the mysterious forces work to what seems
to be a sudden transformation, and some day the anx
ious mother, whose solicitous eye has only now dis
cerned the mighty change, says to her husband: "Hus
band, our boy has become a man." It seems to have
(9) Heb., xi:24.

THE CHOICE OF MOSES. qo
been accomplished in a moment, but what a moment!
How interesting, how eventful ! What influences date
from that supreme point in life; what plans, purposes,
ambitions, conclusions. It represents the high divide
of the whole continent of life from which the water
shed of its every current is determined, the streams
that flow this way or that toward the two eternities — ¦
the eternity of blessing or of woe.
" By faith Moses, when he came to years" — it was
the crisis of his life. We can imag-ine him awaking
one morning in the palace of his king, with the ques
tion, which had been before so vague and shapeless,
confronting him in clear and vast proportions: "He
brew or Egyptian, which.?" and he must answer now.
By faith did he answer. He refused to be called the
son of Pharaoh's daughter. By and by he determined
to go out unto his brethren. He went; he looked upon
their burdens ; he saw a task-master strike a brother
Hebrew; he heard the swash of the descending lash;
he saw the blood spurt from the quivering flesh; he
heard the stifled groan, as the slave sank down in
agony upon the sand.
His answer took still clearer form. His mind ex
panded to its true dimensions in that awful moment.
He cast one swift glance this way and that ; took one
swift step forward ; dealt one swift but ponderous blow
and the persecuting Egyptian fell before the persecuted
slave, at the hand of the son of Pharaoh's daughter.
We do not justify the act, but only the decision which
it illustrated. It was the making of Moses. Though
he was full forty years of age, not till then did he

IOO THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
come to his majority; but now his life is irrevocably
determined. He, too, is a Hebrew.
MOSES IN MIDIAN: HIS COMMISSION.
In the providence of God this strange circumstance
was permitted, in order to prepare Moses for another
period of discipline, as essential to his work as that
which had preceded it. He must now pass a certain
period in retirement, and he flees to Midian. Forty
years more are spent b}' him in exile. During these
years he learned the ways of the wilderness, as he had
previously learned the ways of the great metropolis.
The mountain paths and fastnesses of the desert
through which he was to lead the people of God, be
came as familiar to him as the streets of the royal city
of Tanis. He made the acquaintance of the tribes
who occupied its scattered oases. Ebers — and doubt
less very justly — -makes him to have been intimately
acquainted even with the slaves who toiled in the
mines of the Emerald Hathor, in the very neighbor
hood wherein he kept the flock of Jethro, the Midian-
ite, his father-in-law.'^°'
But the particular lesson which he was here to learn
was his true relation not so much to the Hebrew people
as to their God. Moses was the first monk, and Midian
was the first monastery. But it was not designed that
the monk should remain in the monastery except for
so long a period as should be necessary to develop the
spiritual man, that by his long unmolested meditation
in the desert he might receive such a training as
should fit him to be of service to others.
(10) Uarda, xxxiv.

MOSES IN MIDIAN: HIS COMMISSION. loi
When this period of training drew to a close the
Almighty appeared to him and gave him his commis
sion. His doubts were removed, his confidence was
established, he w^as assured of the special power and
protection of Jehovah, and sent back to the land from
which he had fled forty }'ears ago with this demand
upon his lips: " Let my people go."
So Moses returned to Egypt prepared for his work.
He had been drilled in private under the eye of his
Almighty teacher. He was to perform no mere
experiments. The first demand of the king was to
be met upon the instant. " Show a miracle for you,"
and he was to cast the same rod before the king which
he had previously cast on the ground at the command
of God on the slopes of Horeb, to be again trans
formed before the eye of the astonished king. God
had related to him specifically the various tasks which
were to be performed, and even rehearsed him in some
of the signs which were to be performed in connection
with them, and had then given him this injunction:
"When thou goest to return into Egypt, see that
thou do all those wonders before Pharaoh which I
have put in thine hand."'*^'
CONDITION OF EGYPTIAN AFFAIRS.
The state of Egypt upon his return was providen
tially adapted to the purpose of his mission. Mineptah
II., the son of the great Rameses, sat upon the throne.
He was one of the younger members of the great fam
ily — the fourteenth son. A strange fatality seems to
have attended the house of Rameses, due in part at
(11) Ex. iv: 21.

I02 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
least to the incestuous character of his marriages; and
it so befell that his heirs died one after another until
the scepter of the great warrior passed into hands alto
gether incompetent to wield it. History would have
been very differently written had Rameses' own choice
succeeded to the throne. His son Khamus held the first
place in his father's confidence and affection. He was
early nominated by his father to the high-priesthood of
Ptah at Memphis, and is immortalized in his own works,
as in other monumental records, as a learned and pious
prince. Even though he had never abandoned the
priesthood and personally ascended the throne, yet had
he lived to counsel his }-ounger brother he might have
succeeded in preserving the integrity of the empire.
But Khamus died twelve years before his father,
and when Rameses passed away he left no worthy
successor among his remaining children. '^^' Mineptah
was soon dispossessed of the better part of his king
dom. The descendants of the Hyksos succeeded in
turning the tables upon the native Egyptians, wasted
the cities of the Delta with fire and sword, plundered
its temples, and destroyed the images -of its gods.
Mineptah was unable to stay the tide, and retreated
with his followers to the south, where he spent twelve
years in exile. At last, however, his son Mineptah
IIL, Seti IL, came to his majority, and was associated
with his father in the government. This young man
very early displayed the warlike qualities of his
grandfather, and when he was only eighteen years of
age began a series of campaigns which were soon
ll'-) Brugsch, Vol. II, ch. xiv.

The Bondage and the Exodus.

PROBABLE HARMONY
OF
THE BIBLE AND THE MONUMENTS.

Arranged for the Marginal Chronology.

B.C. - _:

tn

10—

1600

80-

70-

50-

30-

(0 <u<u Ea
CC

96. Associate. Q.

03
78. Succeeds. ^CO
73. Battle of O Kadesh.

'7 1 IVloses born.

'50. Treaty with the riittites.

UJ^ '31. Flight of IVloses. Ex. II: 15.
<Q ZO MOSES IN MIDIAN,
'II. Death of Rameses. Ex. II: 23.

'05. Rebellion.

'93. Return.

. Egyptian Court In Exile.
BITTER BONDAGE.

91. EXODUS. Ex. XI: 5; Xll: 29.
Copyright, 1891; by D. R. Breed.

I04 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
ended in the re-conquest of his father's lost territory.
This was two years before the return of Moses.
The restoration of Mineptah and of his greater son to
power was, however, the re-enslavement of the Israel
ites, and from this event must be dated those severer
sorrows which provoked the groans of the people of
God and called for his divine intervention. These last
two years may be regarded as the period of their
special affliction, compared to which the years which
went before are scarcely to be considered. The Scrip
ture itself indicates that the bitter bondage began
with the king who came to the throne while Moses
was in Midian. We read: "And it came to pass in
process of time that the king of Egypt died, and the
children of Israel sighed by reason of the bondage,"''^'
This king was Rameses; his death occurring twenty
years after the flight of Moses.''*' Then came his son
Mineptah. But, as we have seen, for twelve years
out of the twenty during which he ruled he was a
fugitive. Mineptah had, therefore, been upon the
ancient throne of his fathers but two short years when
Moses appeared to confront him.
The returning Hebrew was his own reputed brother,
who had been afterwards discovered to be himself one
of the serfs. He had disappeared during the preced
ing reign, and no tidings had been received concerning
him for forty years. But here he is back in Egypt
again, and in the presence of her king, uttering his
stern demand: "Thus saith the Lord God of Israel,
let my people go."
(13) Exodus ii: 23.
(14) See Chart, p. 103.

THE NATURE OF THE CONFLICT. 105
At this point in our studies the exact nature of the
conflict which we are now approaching should be dis
tinctly understood. This is the more important, since
in each succeeding illustration of the "fullness of time"
substantially the same elements appear; and in the
final juncture (as we shall see when we come to con
sider it) appear in the most emphatic form.
The nature of the conflict was foreshadowed in the
words of the Lord himself when, commissioning Moses
in Midian, he directed him to say to Pharaoh: "Israel
is my son, even my first-born; and I say unto thee, let
my son go, that he may serve me; and if thou refuse
to let him go, behold I will slay thy son, even thy first
born." '^^' Apart from the premonition of judgment
contained in this warning there is a particular mean
ing connected with it which must be clearly appre
hended, or its special significance will escape the
reader. Although Jehovah was the Only Living and True
God, he had never had a people of his own in the
earth. The nations were devoted each respectively to
their particular gods. Ishtar had her people in the
country from which Abraham, the father of the faith
ful, had emigrated; and in later times Bel, Baal, Rim
mon and Dagon had their pecuhar people devoted to
their service. Jehovah is the God of the whole earth,
and insists upon being so regarded, yet will he also
have his peculiar people, chosen by himself, to main
tain his worship and perpetuate his truth. The time
has arrived when this peculiar people shall be formall}'
designated. God is now about to publicly recognize
(15) Ex. iv: 22, 23.

Io6 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
them as his own, and to declare in such a way as that it
shall be known not only in Egypt, but throughout the
earth, that the Hebrews have received from him the
"adoption of sons." Be it remembered that they had
not before been known as such. They themselves
had never aspired to such a distinguished title. They
understood at least, in a measure, the nature of the
" Everlasting Covenant " made with Abraham, their
father, and believed themselves to be the chosen people
of God. But sons ! this was a relation to the Almighty
of which they had never dreamed. It was not, there
fore, their conception, nor that of Moses, their leader,
but the conception of God only. When he commis
sioned Moses in Midian he vouchsafed to him a new
revelation, by right of which Israel was to enjoy signal
promotion — he would confer upon his covenant people
the divine adoption.
Heretofore the Hebrews had been in no condition to
receive or improve this privilege. The uniform course
of the divine tuition is indicated by Paul in his epistle
to the Galatians :''®' " The heir, as long as he is a child,
differeth nothing from a servant, though he be lord of
all; but is under tutors and governors, until the time
appointed of the father." This principle, though ap
plied by the apostle to the tuition of the Law for the
freedom of the Gospel, yet receives complete illustra
tion in the history of Israel at the period upon which
we are engaged. Israel was "under tutors and gov
ernors " in Egypt.
But " the time appointed of the father" has now
arrived, redemption from bondage is at hand, and the
(16) Gal. iv: I.

THE NATURE OF THE CONFLICT. lo'j
" adoption of sons" will be formally constituted. This,
then, is what Jehovah means when he instructs Moses
to say to Pharaoh: "Israel is my son, even my first
born." Upon the other hand the deification of the kings of
Egypt, while it was displayed in a number of forms,
yet assumed one form in particular. Rameses the
Great, who was the first Egyptian sovereign to dis
tinctly assume the honors and titles of divinity, while
he claimed to exercise divine prerogatives as the repre
sentative of a whole pantheon of divinities, yet assumed
as his chief title " The Son of Ra." Ra was the prin
cipal divinity of Egypt. The sun was his embodiment
and symbol. Mineptah II. , succeeding to the throne
of Rameses, succeeded also to his divine honors. He
also represented himself to be the son of Ra, and the
vice-gerent of the god upon earth. When, therefore,
Moses appeared before Mineptah with this challenge
and warning upon his lips it was equivalent to his sa}'-
ing to the king that the Israelites, whom that king
was oppressing, and who now appeared before him in
the person of their leader, stood in the same relation
to their God, Jehovah, as that which Mineptah claimed
to sustain to his god, the supreme divinity of Egypt.
We might, therefore, call the conflict just now to be
inaugurated a grand dztet, except that the word im
plies a struggle between two parties who are approxi
mately equal. In every other respect, however, it was
to be a duel. Jehovah, represented by Moses, chal
lenged the divinities of Egypt represented by Mineptah.
Mineptah had been engaged in such persecution of
the people of Israel, Jehovah's first-born, as threatened

Io8 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
their extermination, and now Jehovah distinctly warned
him that if extreme measures must be resorted to,
then the first-born of Ra should himself be sacri
ficed in order to the redemption of his own. This is
the probable meaning of the second clause of the sen
tence which Jehovah put into the mouth of Moses:
" If thou refuse to let him go, behold I will slay thy
son, even thy first-born."
We are now prepared to understand the nature of
the conflict. Jehovah will first proceed against the
lesser divinities of Egypt — if perhaps the heart of Pha
raoh may be softened, and he be persuaded to let the
Israelites go. The judgment of the Almighty will
therefore be directed at the beginning against the
sacred river and against the god from whom it was
supposed to proceed. Following this, against those
divinities of the Egyptians which were represented by
their insect idols. Following this in turn, against their
sacred cattle, of which the gods were supposed to have
taken possession. Following this, against those greater
gods that presided over the elements. And finally, if
Pharaoh still insists upon hardening his heart and de
fying Jehovah, against Ra himself, the supreme divin
ity. It will be shown that Ra has no power to give
light to the proud oppressors of the Lord's people, and
awful darkness shall fall upon the land. If even this
is not sufficient to teach the unrelenting king the in
finite superiority of the Living God, the final judg
ment shall be visited upon the very son of Ra himself,
and the first-born of the king, who is also esteemed
the son of Ra, shall be sacrificed.
It would seem that the Israelites from the very first

THE COURSE OF THE CONFLICT.

109

understood the nature of the conflict. Even thoug-h
this distinct apprehension of the situation may have
been confined at first to the leaders of the people, yet
subsequently, under the instruction of the prophets,
the entire people of God were made to understand it.
Long after the Exodus, Isaiah described the situation,
when, speaking in the name of Jehovah and endeavor
ing to awaken his recreant people to some sense of
their obligations, he recalls the destruction of the
Egyptian first-born in order that the Lord's first-born
might be redeemed from their bondage, saying: "I
gave Egypt for thy ransom."'"' Hosea also refers to
their adoption in words which are at once both history
and prophecy: " When Israel was a child, then I loved
him, and called my son out of Egypt. "''^'
THE COURSE OF THE CONFLICT.
Events proceeded therefore according to the word
of the Lord. Moses appeared before the king. Min
eptah demanded a miracle in confirmation of his claims.
The miracle was furnished. Thereupon the king called
for his magicians and commanded them to show a sim
ilar miracle, in order that the claims of Moses might
be set aside.
These magicians bear in Scripture the Hebrew name
hhartummim., which, in spite of its Hebrew complex
ion, is derived from an Egyptian word, khartot. Ra
meses II. , as already shown, had erected temples in
honor of a circle of divinities called " the gods of Ra
meses." The king caused himself to be thereby hon
ored with a religious worship, and the texts of the
(17) Is. xliii: 3. (IS) Hosea xi: I.

IIO THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
later age make mention of the " god-king Rameses,
surnamed the Very Vahant." The services of these
temples were conducted by certain priests who bore
each the name of khar-tot., that is, "the warrior."
The origin of the appellation, which seems strange
when applied to persons apparently so peaceful, is ex
plained by the character of the Egyptian myths con
cerning the warrior divinities of the cities of Rameses. '^^'
The Apostle Paul has given us the names of two of
these magicians, Jannes and Jambres.'^' The arts
which they practiced were inherent in the ancient
Egyptian religion. Its ritual consisted of a system of
incantations with the object of securing future happi
ness for the disembodied soul. These incantations did
not absolutely insure this happiness, but it could not
be secured without them. Great secrecy was main
tained by the priests in the practice of this system. It
was upheld by a gorgeous ritual and taught in a mul
titude of books to which, doubtless, Moses himself. had
once had access. It is not necessary for us to describe
the system in detail.
The power of the magicians was, however, soon ex
hausted, and there followed a series of miracles, pro
ceeding in systematic order from the less severe to the
more severe, and culminating in the death of the first
born. The first series of plagues (blood, frogs, lice,
flies) occasioned only inconvenience. The second se
ries (murrain of beasts and boils of men) produced
general sickness. The third series (hail, locusts, dark
ness), widespread destruction. Then followed the tenth
plague of death.
(19) Brugsch, II, p. 384. (20) 2 Tira. iii: 8.

THE COURSE OF THE CONFLICT. m
The king's manner during the progress of these
plagues is exceedingly suggestive. His manner is
marked by a certain suUenness. But as the plagues
become more severe in character he endeavors by
partial promises, which he did not intend to keep, to
divert Moses from his purpose. Observing his vacil
lation, and remembering the inherent weakness of his
character, we can scarcely resist the conclusion that his
is a case of "the power behind the throne." Minep
tah acts like a puppet. Where is the hand that pulls
the strings.? His promises and retractions are in every
way similar to those of later kings whose ver}' con
sciences were kept by some cardinal or prime minis
ter, or other person better calculated to rule than the
monarch himself. Who can help recalling in this con
nection the case of Charles IX., his mother Catherine
de Medici, the protestants of France, and St. Bartholo
mew.? Who was the Catherine in this instance.? Who
could it have been but that imperious, stalwart son of
Mineptah, his co-regent, by whose very power he sits
upon his throne.? The Scripture refers to the influence
of Pharaoh's " servants." Is there not some reference
also to his chief servant, his own son.? If it be so, we
shall find terrible significance in the result of the tenth
plague, in which that son himself was sacrificed.
At last, however, the time came when all reconcilia
tion was seen to be impossible. " The Lord hardened
Pharaoh's heart and he would not let them go." And
Pharaoh said unto Moses: "Get thee from me; take
heed to thyself; see my face no more, for in that da}'
thou seest my face thou shalt die." And Moses said:
" Thou hast spoken weU; I will see thy face no more."

112 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
This incident is dramatic in the extreme. Pharaoh
is at last brought to bay. He has offered every con
cession he can make — still keeping hold upon his re
bellious servants; but they have all been declined. At
last he is forced to grant permission to the Israelites
to go, but upon condition that they go empty-handed,
leaving their flocks and herds behind. Moses answers
that they cannot sacriflce without sacrifices, and that
they cannot live without food. " Our cattle also shall
go with us. There shall not a hoof be left behind."
And then it seems for the first time to have dawned
upon the dull mind of this miserable monarch that
what the Israelites were planning was not a mere holi
day excursion, but an absolute exodus. They intended
to emigrate; they expected to go out to return no more.
He was roused to a sense of the situation. He rea
soned just as others have reasoned in like circum
stances. If this was their expectation, they must be
disappointed. He had already made them a liberal
offer. If it is not accepted they shall have nothing
whatsoever. The king understands the condition of
the case at last. He perceives that the demand of
Moses is unconditional; so also shall his answer be.
Moses asks to be allowed to depart with the men, with
the women and with the little children, with the sheep
and with the oxen; in short, with all the belongings of
his people. " No," says the king. This is his answer,
sharp, plain, final. ".No! not only will I not grant
this request, but I will not grant any. I retract all
that I have said. I will not even listen to you again.
Get thee from me; take heed to thyself; see my face
no more, for in that day thou seest my face thou shalt

THE COURSE OF THE CONFLICT. 113
die." And Moses, with that massive dignity which
characterizes him throughout the entire story, answers :
" Thou hast spoken well; I will see thy face again no
more." That was the end of it. Pharaoh himself had
shut the door to all further consideration of the case,
with Moses, the Israelites and the Lord God himself
upon its outside.
The king kept his word. Lie had no chance to
break it, because Moses kept his word as he had prom
ised, and the two never met again. Pharaoh, indeed,
rose up in the night of the last plague and called for
jNIoses and Aaron and bade them begone with all
their people; but it appears upon reading the passage
attentively that the message must have been sent to
Moses at the hand of some official, as the account in
dicates very plainly that Moses lost no time in a visit
to the palace of the king.
A few more days remained, the calm before the
hurricane. Moses was gone, Aaron was silent, God
was waiting. Then came that awful night when all
the first-born died, "from the first-born of Pharaoh
that sat upon his throne even unto the first-born of the
maid-servant that was behind the mill." Mineptah
Seti himself, in the flower of his youth, as the Egyp
tian monuments show — the young warrior, his father's
associate, the hope of the royal house, perished, and
with him perished the power of the old Egyptian mon
archy. The obscurity in the prophecy quoted in the
last paragraph has been recently cleared. It has been
very plainly shown that the words, '¦^ that sitteth upon
his throne,'''' refer not to Pharaoh, but to this son
who shared his sovereignty. The untimely end of

114 ^^^ ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
Mineptah III. is narrated in a number of epitaphs and
funeral dirges found in different localities, and there is
no more pathetic language to be found in all the
Egyptian records.'^'' DELIVERANCE.
The period between the ninth and tenth plague was
passed by the Israelites in preparation for their jour
ney. Definite instructions were given to them by
Moses which were obeyed to the letter, and all things
were read}- for the greatest event save one in their
history. The days passed slowl}' by. There was pro
found quiet in the splendid city of Tanis, for the He
brew question which had so troubled the monarch and
his court was at last settled. Settled as the king re
garded it, and as he supposed Moses regarded it. No
word had come from the adjoining province of Goshen,
and the affairs of the great empire seemed to move on
as they had done before the disturbance.
How many days passed we cannot determine, but
sufficient to convey to all the Israelites throughout
Goshen and the adjoining sections over which they
had spread, instructions with regard to the Passover
and the movements of the Israelites which should fol
low it.
The appointed night arrived. The blood of the
lamb was sprinkled upon the door-posts ; his flesh was
eaten; the meal was just over; it was midnight. Sud
denly the word was given. The Angel of Death had
done his work; they must arise and be off at once,
losing not a mom(;nt by the way. And the mighty
(21) See article by Prof. Paine, Century Magazine, Sept., 1889.

DELIVERANCE. 1 1 c
multitude started just as they were, all their worldly
possessions, even to their unleavened dough, done up
in bundles and thrown over their shoulders, out into
the night and off into freedom!
Silently they moved through the streets of the
stricken capital, whose people, powerless in their sud
den sorrow, did not disturb them, but rather urged
them to be off, and loaded them with presents to
hasten their departure. Straight towards the west
rolled the mighty multitude, like a great torrent, swel
ling, as it flowed, with the streams which poured into
it by the way. The moon was in the zenith, its clear,
full face shining down upon them through the cloud
less Egyptian sky and lighting them upon their jour
ney. They trod with firm and elastic step, for there
was not a single feeble person in all their tribes. '^^'
Their fiocks and herds moved with them, but there
was no interruption, not a single spear was pointed at
them, not a single challenge delayed them, and as God
himself had prophesied with minute particularity, not
so much as a single dog came forth to " move his
tongue against them" or snap his teeth at the heels of
their yearling lambs. Egypt was busy with its dead.
Man and beast ahke were occupied with their grief.
" God had made a way for his anger," and the "pesti
lence"'^' had made a swath for the highway of his
people. The words which were not to be spoken un
til long afterwards by the prophet Isaiah received their
most significant illustration : " The day of vengeance
is in mine heart and the year of my redeemed is
come." '^'
(22) Ps. CV : 37. (23) Ps. Ixxviii : 50. (2*) Is. Ixiii : 4.

Il6 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
EFFECT UPON EGYPT.
Egypt did not recover from this catastrophe for two
generations. Mineptah IIL, Seti II. , by whose prow
ess his father had regained his lost territory, was dead.
Pharaoh had lost his strong right arm. The power of
the monarch was broken. The Exodus was but the
beginning of the old man's troubles. His subjects re
belled against him, allies revolted, a near relative ac
complished a division of the empire and reigned as
anti-king; and in the multitude of sorrows which ac
cumulated upon his devoted head, its gray hairs were
brought down in sorrow to the grave. His grandson,
a son of Mineptah Seti, reigned over a dismembered
kingdom, and not until the accession of his great-
grandson, Rameses IIL, was Egypt again restored to
its place of political power and glory. '^'
Thus sixty-six years passed away. Meanwhile the
people of God had passed safely through the wilder
ness, crossed the Jordan, conquered the land of Canaan,
partitioned it among the tribes, and were peacefully en
joying their possessions. EFFECT UPON ISRAEL.
The Exodus was the birth of the Hebrew nation,.
and they ever looked back upon that first Passover
night as the initial point in their political history.
They went down into Egypt little better than no
mads. They had been accustomed to moving about
from place to place with their tents and their cattle,
and so long as the patriarchs remained in Canaan they
^^ Brugsch ; II, xiv.

EFFECT UPON ISRAEL. \\>i
were expressly forbidden to erect any permanent dwel
lings. They emerged from Egypt a nation of agricul
turists and with a very considerable acquisition of cul
ture. The rude shepherds had been trained bv teach
ers of the foremost nation of the world, and that in its
most brilliant period. They carried away with them
a very considerable acquaintance with its arts and lit
erature. We find them immediately after the Exodus
engaged in certain pursuits which they never practiced
in patriarchal times. They could execute delicate work
in gold and silver, in wood and stone. They were
skilled in weaving, embroidering and dyeing. They
knew how to cut, set and engrave precious stones.
The Egyptian bondage gave to Israel such men as
Joshua, the great soldier; Phineas, the great diplomat;
Bezaleel and Aholiab, skilled artificers in wood, stone
and the textile fabrics; and, above all, Moses, the great
est jurist of the ages. These names, however, stand
but at the head of the list. There were many beside
them skilled in the same arts, though occupying in
ferior positions. These accomplishments fitted the
Hebrews to take possession of the land of Canaan and
to colonize it as permanent settlers, with a high degree
of civilization and a settled government.
But beyond all this the chief effects of their bondage
appeared in welding them into a great nation. They
went down into Egypt a little clan ; they came up out of
Egypt a mighty host. Regard them as they cross the
river Jordan under Joshua and lay siege to the city of
Jericho. What splendid order! What unity of action!
What irresistable enthusiasm! Their organization
was well nigh perfect. Their military establishment

Il8 THE ADOPTION OF ISRAEL.
was arranged with a precision never yet excelled
even under the great g'enerals of more modern
times. In addition to this they were in possession of
a body of law carefully written and arranged. They
had adopted a careful judicial system, whereby the
rights of the humblest citizen were secured. And, to
crown all, their religious life was ordered and gov
erned with a view at once to the responsibility, in
struction and consolation of every individual soul.
All this had been accomplished chiefly through the
great lessons which they had received while they were
at school in their house of bondage. Their servitude
had rendered it possible for God to teach them lessons
which they would not otherwise have been prepared
to receive. The truth is abundantly illustrated in his
tory that fellowship in suffering is the most potent of
all influences in effecting the unity of races and the
solidification of nationalities, and of impressing upon
their minds the sense of mutual dependence and the
need of mutual helpfulness. It teaches men the rights
of each other: it makes them brethren. So it was with
the Hebrew nation.
But when we call to mind the additions of special
divine revelation and those lessons which were taught
them by the divine intervention, we are impressed with
a profound sense of the presence and persistence of the
divine providence. As we follow their history it be
comes plain that he is preparing these people for a
great mission related to his own deep purpose of sal
vation. Our minds are overwhelmed with astonish
ment and our hearts with gratitude, and we exclaim
as we are often obliged to do when studying providen
tial history: " Surely God is in this 'place! "

Chapter V.
THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
The people of Israel now enter upon their distinct
mission, in its first period, the period of seclusion.
The death of Mineptah Seti, followed soon after by
the death of his aged father, introduced, as we have
seen in the preceding chapter, a period of confusion
in Egypt.
So, after the serious reverse of the oppressors at
the Red Sea, the Hebrews were permitted to continue
their journey unmolested. The Egyptian monarch
was too busily engaged at home to look after his run
away serfs. Such is the care of divine providence.
The camps of the Israelites were long pitched on ter-
ritor}- claimed by Egypt, but they were not once dis
turbed. At last, after the forty years of wandering in the
wilderness, the Israelites reached the promised land.
Its condition at the time of their entrance indicates
the divine ordering of their affairs as fully as did the
condition of Egypt at the time of the exodus. The
great empire of the Hittites, which formerly extended
over the greater part of Canaan had been shattered
by the campaigns of Rameses the Great ; the Israelites
encountered only its broken fragments.'^' The con
quest of the land became therefore a comparatively
easy task, for instead of confronting a great united
(1) The Bible and Modern Discoveries ; Harper, p. 179.

I20 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
power, the Hebrew warriors met only small and sepa
rated tribes, which, though they combined at times
against the invaders, were lacking in unity of action.'^'
Conquest completed, the Israelites had before them
a protracted period of nine hundred years in which to
enjoy their possession in comparative quiet, without
being disturbed by the nations round about them.
Their preservation is accomplished during this long-
epoch by the mutual hostilit}' of the empire of Egypt
upon the one hand and that of Assyria upon the other;
each being too much occupied with its own affairs
and the encroachment of the other to be especiall}-
concerned with the affairs of a comparatively insig
nificant nation. The very Egyptians themselves —
though naturally incensed at the Israelites and nursing
a grudge against them, were yet disposed to treat
them upon the whole with favor, in order that their
little commonwealth might serve as a breakwater
between their own coast and the surging tides of the
Semitic nations on the east.
In the seclusion which they are thus permitted to
enjoy they shall have the opportunity to bring to full
development those hopes and principles with which
they are subsequently to enrich the world. In the
meantime, also, the nations which are about them are
left to themselves in order that they may carry
to its conclusion every effort upon their own part to
effect their own regeneration.
It is necessary at this point to clearly apprehend the
nature of the Hebrew mission, that we may have it
in mind when we pass to the succeeding chapters.
(6) The Empire of the Hittites ; Wright, pp. 92, 112.

EARLY HOPES. 12 1
The religion of revelation in whatever age we ma}'
consider it, is distinguished from all other religions by
this one great characteristic feature, hope. It always
affords a striking contrast to heathenism, in that while
heathenism invariably places its golden age in the
past, and looks back upon a time when men were wise
and happy; revelation continually contemplates a goal
in the future, and looks forward to the time when all
mankind shall become enlightened and blessed. All
that was embraced in the religious life of the Hebrew
people may therefore be comprised in that single
expression which we frequently encounter in the
Scriptures, " The hope qf Israel.''^
This hope had been communicated to the people of
God long before the call of Abraham. It did not
originate with the Hebrews. It was only committed
to their care. What was its character when they
were made its custodians? EARLY HOPES.
The original form of this hope of Israel was con-
tamed in the first promise, given of God to the mother
of the race after the fall of man. " I will put enmity
between thee and the woman, and between thy seed
and her seed. It shall bruise thy head and thou shalt
bruise his heel." '^' This promise became the most
precious element in all the traditions which were
handed down from father to son during those long-
ages that elapsed between Seth and Noah, and it is
not probable that in the wickedness of the ante-delu
vian world the knowledge of the promise was alto-
srether extinojuished.
(8) Gen. iii: 15.

122 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
In the days of Noah this first promise was substan
tially renewed, and the preservation of the family of
the patriarch was an installment in its fulfillment.
The human race was thus continued for the sake of
that seed through whom the great deliverance was to
come. Immediately after the deluge Noah was assured
of the future stabilit}' of the earth and the uniformity
of the seasons, and his son Shem was designated as
the one through whom the original promise was to
find its ultimate fulfillment. After this a long interval
occurs during which, as we have already seen, the
world lapsed again into heathenism. Still, the great
hope was not permitted to become obliterated. It
makes its appearance again in the person and call of
Abraham, and resumes its original form in the desig
nation of a blessed seed. The covenant with Abraham
establishes a special relationship between himself and
his descendants and the Almighty; and he is assured
that through a certain branch of his descendants, all
mankind are ultimately to be blessed. Abraham is
therefore directed to a land of the Lord's own choos
ing, within the bounds of which this chosen seed is to
be protected and nurtured in order to the fulfillment
of that hope.
As yet, however, the "seed" was not specialized.
Little else was shown than that through Isaac, and
through the land in which Isaac and his posterity should
live, blessing would be in some way extended to the
world. The seed is indeed intrinsically the most im
portant element in the promise; but as yet the land is
the more prominent one. This, for reasons that will
doubtless occur to the reader. Again and again in the

EARLY HOPES. I 23
history of Abraham, particular mention is made of the
land, as in the following places: Genesis xii: i, 7;
xiii: 15; XV : 7, 18, etc. Within three generations the
children of Isaac were to be led out of this land into
another, where they were to remain for several cen
turies; and therefore the repetition of that feature of
the promise which connected it with the land became
necessary, that their minds might be set upon it, during
their long and painful exile.
Such indeed proved to be its effect. While some of
them became in a measure attached tothe land oftheir
sojourn, and when they met with peculiar hardships
upon their way to Canaan, expressed the desire to re
turn, nevertheless the fact remains that the entire peo
ple of Israel gladly forsook Egypt in a body, with all of
their possessions, leaving, as Moses himself expressed
it, " not even a hoof behind," nothing to mark the fact
that they had once been residents of the place ; and al
though they made their complaints in the wilderness,
none of them, so faras we are informed, actually made
the effort to go back. The explanation is found in
this; that they were returning to this land wherewith
their great hope was connected, and outside of which
it would be forfeited. IN THE WILDERNESS.
After they had left Egypt and entered upon their
journey they were organized into a nation. Their s}s-
tem of government was improved and extended, and
they received at the hands of their leader a written
code of laws. In connection with this, the hope which
was the distincti-\e feature of their life, received its

124 '^^^ HOPE OF ISRAEL.
first decided increment. The people were taught, to
begin with, their true relation to their true Deliverer.
We have considered the words in which this relation
was constituted in the preceding chapter. The words
were these: "Israel is my son, even my first-born, and
I say unto thee, let my son go that he may serve me;
and if thou refuse to let him go, behold, I will slay thy
son, even thy first-born."'*' The Hebrews were thus
taught that they stood by adoption in the same rela
tion to God, which the son of Pharaoh, who shared
his throne, stood to him by generation. They could
not fail to interpret this new revelation as a distinct
and most remarkable element in the enlargement of
their hope. They were called "Sons of God!" How
great their privileges! How exalted their influence!
With this in mind they came to the Mount of God ;
and the expression which Moses had used in his de
mand upon Pharaoh was extended in the following
words, which the Lord instructed him to speak to the
Hebrews: "Ye have seen what I did unto the Egyp
tians and how I bear you on eagles' wings and brought
you unto myself. Now, therefore, if ye will obey
my voice indeed and keep my covenant, then shall ye
be a peculiar treasure unto me above all people, for all
the earth is mine; and ye shall be unto me a kingdom
of priests and an holy nation."'^' This language im
plied not only the same high position which had been
already revealed to them, but also a special relation
both toward God and towards the nations of the
world. They were to be both a -priesthood and a
kingdotn. As a priesthood their life was to face
(4) Ex. iv: 22, 23. (B) Ex. xix: 4-6.

IN THE WILDERNESS. 125
toward God; as a kingdom it was to face toward the
world. They were to become, in a sense, the mediators
between God and man. Themselves redeemed of God,
they were to mediate the redemption of others ; them
selves the sons of God, they were to subdue the king
doms of the earth to his paternal sceptre. Their hope
was therein manifestly enlarged. Their knowledge
was now extended far beyond the mere fact that they
were the chosen seed and their country the promised
land; they were made distinctly aware of their mission
to the world; the language of Moses could not pos
sibly mean less.
But this was not all. While they were still before
Sinai they entered into a solemn covenant with their
Almighty Redeemer. Moses called for the elders of
the people and laid before thein the words which the
Lord had commanded him, and we read: "All the
people answered together and said. All that the Lord
hath spoken we will do. And iSIoses returned the
words of the people unto the Lord."'^'
In this enlargement of their hope they journeyed on
through the wilderness. But they soon forgot their
God, and forsook the solemn covenant which they had
ratified. Therefore the whole living adult generation
was condemned to die without a sight of their prom
ised possession; and the new generation in which
there were but two representatives of that which
preceded, came at last to its borders.
ON THE BORDERS OF THE LAND.
Before they should take possession of the promised
land, and before the great leader who had brought
(6) Ex. xix: 8.

126 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
them to its boundaries should depart, the new gene
ration was to receive another decided increment to
their hope. The record begins M'ith the story of the
blessing of Balaam, whom Balak brought to curse
Israel, but who " could not go beyond the word of the
Lord his God to do less or more." Through this
strange personage the Hebrews received the repre
sentation of the kingdom of God, as set apart from
the nations of the world; composed of A'ast numbers;
irresistible in power; subduing all nations to its sceptre,
under the leadership of God its King. They perceive,
also, by means of Balaam's vision, one of the most
beautiful pictures of the future which is anywhere
presented in prophecy. " I shall see him but not now.
I shall behold him but not nigh. There shall come a
Star out of Jacob and a Sceptre shall rise out of
Israel." ''^' This may be regarded as the foreshadow
ing of the allegiance of the entire heathen world.
Very soon afterwards Moses himself, in his final
address to the people upon the plains of Moab, uttered
the most important prophecy, as it was the concluding
one, of this period. In it the hope of Israel, which
had heretofore been general, became personal. The
" seed " was specialized and limited to an individual.
Moses says:
" The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a Prophet from
the midst of thee, of thy brethren, like unto me; unto him ye
shall hearken; according to all that thou desiredst of the Lord
thy God in Horeb, in the day of the assembly, saying, Let me
not hear again the voice of the Lord my God, neither let me
see this great fire any more, that I die not. And the Lord said
unto me, They have well spoken that which they have spoken.
(7) Numb, xxiv: 17

ON THE BORDERS OF THE LAND. 127
I will raise them up a Prophet from among their brethren like
unto thee; and w^ill put my w^ords in his mouth, and he shall
speak unto them all that I shall command him. And it shall
come to pass that whosoever will not hearken unto my words
which he shall speak in my name, I will require it of him." (8)
They were herein taught that the coming Seed
should be a great teacher; that he should speak to
them in God's name; that he should be an Israelite,
and that disobedience to his words, or the refusal to
follow him, -would meet with the severest divine con
demnation. This second Moses should complete the
revelation of God, and should become the crown of
the royal priesthood — the priestly kingdom.
With this enlargement of their hope the Israelites
took possession of their land. During their residence
in Egypt, and more particularly in consequence of the
special revelations which they had received in the wil
derness, they were well furnished for their entrance
upon an independent national life, and for the develop
ment of those principles which they were finally to be
stow upon the world. Let us remember the nature of
that which constituted their investiture.
THE HEBREW INVESTITURE.
Inasmuch as the outlook of the Hebrew was toward
the future and contemplated a coming age in which
mankind should be wise, happy and holy, it may be char
acterized not only as a religion of hope, but a religion
with a governing ideal.'"' This ideal was unique in
every particular. None of its essential features were
borrowed from any earthly source. If in an}' respect
(8) Deut. xviii: 15, 19.
(9) See Messianic Prophecy ; Briggs, p. 28.

128 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
the ceremonies which were in use among other na
tions — Egypt, for example, seem to have been imi
tated, it was in their external and accidental features
only. Their unique ideal was threefold: it related —
1st, To God. They were taught his unity and per
sonality. He was the God of creation, of providence
and of redemption; most holy, wise and powerful; full
of all goodness, mercy and truth. In order that they
might never mistake his nature and attributes, these
were described in formal written language, together
with the service which he required.
2d, To man. The unity of the race was revealed
to them. God was one, so also mankind was one; and
man had been created in his image. This conception
differed toto ccelo from that of all other nations and
relieved the Hebrews from those race-prejudices which
were not only taught, but even emphasized by other
religions. It was written for their instruction that the
original holiness of mankind had been lost by sin, and
with it the original unity of the race; but both were
to be ultimately restored in the grace of God through
the instrumentality of the chosen seed in the exercise
of its royal priesthood.
3d, To redemption — the union of God and man.
This is implied in the foregoing. It comprises the sub
stance of the hope of Israel. They were taught that
since the fall of man from his holy estate, good and
evil had been in dire collision. But the conflict should
not be forever. Some day the good would prevail
over the evil, holiness be triumphant, and those who
had accepted the grace of God should enjoy his pres
ence forever.

THE PERIOD OF THE JUDGES. 129
Such was their ideal, such their hope. It was ex
pressed in such promises as those to which we have
referred. Already they foresaw the coming deliver
ance. They knew that it would be affected through
that central personage about whom all their revela
tions were now made to revolve. He was to appear
in the land which had been selected for them for his
sake, and through one of their own families chosen to
provide for him an ancestry. Moses, through whom
they had been redeemed from Egypt, was only a type
of the Prophet like unto himself, and their first passover
only a dim and shadowy forecast of the second.
This was already a most marvelous investiture and
distinguished them from all other nations by incom
parable privileges and responsibilities; yet they had
but entered upon their national existence, and their,
mission was only well begun. Their investiture was
to be indefinitely extended in the centuries which were
before them.
The history which now succeeds is divided into
three periods.'^"' First, the period of the Judges —
from Moses to Samuel. Second, the period of the
united kingdom of Israel — from Samuel to Solomon.
Third, the period of division and decline — from Solo
mon to the close of the Old Testament.
THE PERIOD OF THE JUDGES.
The first period comprises about three hundred
years — a little more than one-third of the entire inde
pendence of the Hebrew nation previous to the Baby
lonian captivity. During this period there is no
(10) See Bampton Lectures for 1866; Liddon, p. 78.

130 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
definite enlargement of the hope of Israel, and
scarcely any reference thereto which appears in the
sacred record. There are certain indications that the
hope was kept alive; that it was neither forgotten, nor
failed to exercise an influence upon the life of the peo
ple. But their condition was such, occupied as they
were in making a place for themselves among the na
tions of the earth; redeeming the land, expelling its
heathen inhabitants, and securing for themselves a
permanent dwelling-place, that their activities were
largely consumed in the affairs of secular life. We
ought not to be surprised at this, when we reinember
the beginnings of national life and institutions in con
nection with all the other great races of the world.
We have in the book of Judges, with its companion-
book of Ruth, an exact picture of that condition which
obtains in the early life of every civilized people; ex
cept that in the case of Israel an authentic record takes
the place of what in other nations are mere legendary
stories. Following this record it is not difficult for us
to transport ourselves into those very times. We per
ceive that the first occupation of the people was a
struggle for national existence. The possessors of the
country had been subdued in the campaigns of Joshua ;
but they still remained within its borders, a constant
menace to Israel, frequently rising in the effort to re
gain their lost territory. The Hebrews could main
tain themselves only b}' continual warfare, and this
warfare became the more difficult because of the num
ber of hostile tribes which confronted them. Had the
land been held by a single strong nation they might
have shattered its power at a single blow; but as it

THE PERIOD OF THE JUDGES. 13 1
was divided among a large number of clans, each in
dependent of the other, and each under its own king,
the Hebrews were obliged to conquer them piecemeal
and dispossess them little by httle. They had been
forewarned of this. They had been told of " seven
nations greater and mightier than they" whom the
Lord should "deliver before them;"'^^' and again, that
they should be " driven out little by little" until the
people of Israel should have so increased as to be able
to inhabit the land. They were not to be driven out
in a single year, " lest the land should become deso
late" and the "beasts of the field multiply against
them."'^^' These nations might combine against the
Israelites, as they did in several instances; yet for all
practical purposes they were separate nations, each
nation acting for itself. A ^•ictory might be decisive
in one place and completely humble the tribe froi-n
which it had been obtained, while at the same time,
onl}' a few miles away, another enemy arose in new
territory which in turn must be overcome. Accord
ingly this period was not only protracted, but it was
one of constant occupation, busy movement and direct
contact with new and hostile elements. Until the He
brews had multiplied sufficiently to occupy the terri
tory the dispossession of these heathen tribes was most
difficult, indeed impossible, since they would spring
up behind the Israelites, on leaving a district, as they
sprang up before them when they advanced. It was,
therefore, not a time for the development of their pe
culiar institutions, and we ought not to expect to find
(11) Deut. vii: I.
(12) Ex. xxiii: 29, 30.

132 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
in it any emphatic or repeated references to their dis
tinctive hope.
But another consideration must be added to the
foregoing. The Hebrews, surrounded as they were
by heathenism which was grossly sensual as well as
persistently aggressive, and being divided from each
other in their occupation of their tribal allotments,
yielded at times to the teraptations which assaulted
them. They had also been carefully warned concern
ing this. They had been instructed in advance to
make no treaties with the heathen into whose land
they should come, but to destroy their altars and break
down their images, ancl burn their idols with fire; and
to remember that they themselves were a holy people
unto the Lord, their God.'^'' Before the death of
Joshua, and after the conquest of the southern portion
of. the land, he had endeavored to remind them of this
by the solemn assembly convened in Mount Ebal ac
cording to the command of Moses, when he wrote
upon stones a copy of the law, and read to the people
its words, with the blessings and the curses.'"' And
again, at the close of his life, when he gathered the
people together at the same place, in order that their
minds might be the more affected by the remem
brance of the former convention; and when they sol
emnly renewed the covenant to put away all the false
gods which were among them, and solemnly declared
that they would serve the Lord and obey his voice.
In order to bind this agreement it was written in the
Book of the Law of God and a great memorial stone
was set up as a witness. '^^'
(13) Deut. vii: 3; xii: 2. (13) Josh. xxiv.
(11) Josh. viii.

THE PERIOD OF THE JUDGES. 133
The precaution of Joshua was influential during the
next generation. But upon the death of the elders
who succeeded him the evil influence of the heathen
began to be felt. The religious ceremonies of the
people were neglected. They forsook their covenant,
and in many cases worshipped the idols of the nations
which were about them.
This experience has also been repeated at other
times in the history of the church of God. The age
which succeeded the fathers who had learned of the
Apostles was very similar to the age of the elders
who outlived Joshua, and in certain branches of the
Christian church to this day the evil influences of that
heathenism with which it came in contact in the first
centuries of its existence are still apparent.
The religious life of the Hebrew people also suf
fered through the laws which governed the inheri
tance of the tribes and confined the members of
each to their own tribal lands. In this way the
unification of the people was long deferred. The
tribes after their settlement appeared like so many
separate republics, without any articles of confedera
tion which were binding, and consisting of independ
ent states. There was no central authority nor cen
tral bond, but on the other hand tribal jealousies and
hostilities. Foreign invasions were therefore the more
effective in the subjugation of the people and foreign
influences in their demoralization. The "judges," after
which the Book of Judges is named, did not preside
over the whole land, but over separated districts. The
great national festivals were imperfectly observed, the
great national sanctuary v/as forgotten, and the Le-

134 '^^'^ HOPE OF ISRAEL.
vites, and even the priests, sometimes served sections
of the great people instead of the people as one.
We must also remember that in those early days
intercourse between different parts of the country was
difficult and rare. A journey of a few miles into a
neighboring tribe, and still more so into a compara
tively remote district, was undertaken with great sol
emnity and care, as it involved many hardships such
as would naturally arise in an undeveloped country,
and in addition the certain encounter with the wild
beasts (which in those days were numerous in the un
occupied territory) and probably with hostile people
as well.
We can understand, therefore, how in such little
communities and such isolated districts the peculiar
principles of the Hebrew faith would be neglected and
the flame of its hope fade into a flickering ember. The
sparse and stationary population would almost forget
its own origin, or if they recalled and studied the faith
of their fathers they would scarcely be able to perceive
its real meaning or its great promise.
Nevertheless, we may certainly judge from the nar
rative that in very many districts there were certain
well-informed and pious persons who were not cor
rupted by the idolatry about them, and who were bet
ter instructed in their faith than the mass of the popu
lation. The book of Ruth furnishes a beautiful picture
of one such district and of certain families which
belonged to it. Despite their isolation and separa
tion there were always some who were conscious of
the mission of the people of Israel and of the mean
ing of their peculiar existence in that peculiar land.

THE PERIOD OF THE JUDGES. 135
Occasionally, also, the people gathered under the influ
ence of some well-known chieftain like Gideon, and for
a time the unity of the people was exhibited. There
were also some scattered throughout the land who,
like the parents of Samuel, did not forget their
obligation to appear before the Lord, and who came
up annually to the seat of the Ark of the Covenant
at the return of the Feast of the Passover. By such
means the ideal of the Hebrew faith and the vital con
nection of the people with the hope of Israel were pre
served, and that legislation which was intended to be
its safeguard was continued. Their seclusion was also
demonstrated by their observance of the rite of cir
cumcision, of the Sabbath, and of the sabbatical periods
of rest, by which the wall of separation from that
heathen world which was in such close proximity was
not permitted to be thrown down. The Levites also,
according to the Mosaic arrangement, had been scat
tered throughout the country in the cities which were
assigned to them, and in these centers at least was
kept alive the spirit and traditions of their order. As
they depended for their support upon their religion
they would keep the old faith alive. Even though in
some districts the Levite might be the only living per
sonation of it, yet he connected the past with the pres
ent, and the present with the future. Whatever may
have been the separation between the tribes and the
jealousies which they entertained, the Levite, belong
ing as he did to all Israel, all Israel had an interest in
him, to provide for him, to protect him, and to listen
to his instructions.
So the years rolled by. Meanwhile the people of

136 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
Israel were multiplying, enlarging their borders, over
coming their enemies, securing for themselves an in
creasing portion of the territor}-, until we arrive at the
point where no important enemy is found to dispute
their title except the Philistines, who had obtained a
pre-eminence in Palestine above any of the hostile na
tions which had preceded them. At the close of this
period Eli was the presiding priest at Shiloh, and his
two sons ministered as his assistants. But their im
piety and immorality was so great that they dishon
ored the worship of Jehovah and brought ruin upon
their house. In this juncture the word of the Lord for
the first time in many years is heard, and a new era
begins in the history of the chosen people.
SAMUEL TO SOLOMON.
The story of the child Samuel is one of the most
familiar to the student of the Scripture. When he be
gan to minister unto the Lord before Eli we are told
that "the word of theLord was precious," there "was
no open vision." But when it was known that he had
received a revelation directly from the Almighty it
became manifest not only to Eli but also to all Israel,
"from Dan even to Beer-sheba," that the people of
God were again blessed with the presence of a prophet
of the Lord.
Before Samuel had grovv^n to manhood a circum
stance occurred which marks the transition point be
tween the first period and the second. The Philistines
had come up to battle against Israel. The Hebrews
in their dismay had sent to Shiloh and brought out to
their camp the Ark of the Covenant — the two sons of

SAMUEL TO SOLOMON. 137
Eli attending it. But in the battle which ensued the
Israelites were defeated. A panic ensued; there was
a terrible slaughter, and thirty thousand Hebrews
were slain. But even this loss of life was not the
greatest calamity. The Ark of God was taken, and
in the death of the sons of Eli his dissolute house was
blotted out. When Eli heard the news he fell from
the seat upon which he was sitting awaiting the news
of the battle, broke his neck and died. The sentiment
of the whole people was expressed in the exclamation
of his daughter-in-la-w, the wife of one of the sons
which had been slain, when giving birth to a child in
the moment of her awful disappointment, she named
him Ichabod, exclaiming: "The glory is departed
from Israel, for the Ark of God is taken."
This defeat and disgrace was the occasion of a gen
eral movement upon the part of all the people, which,
beginning with the misrule of the sons of Eli, finally
culminated, with the misrule of Samuel's own sons, in
the demand for a king. Although Samuel was dis
posed to protest, yet the Lord instructed him to listen
to the demand and grant the request which the people
had made of him. Saul was anointed and the Hebrew
monarchy was organized.
This movement had been anticipated and provided
for, while the people of Israel were still in the wilder
ness, before their entrance into the promised land.'^^'
The fulfillment of the mission of Israel could not have
been completed without the establishment of a king
dom in which the royal priesthood should find its
complete expression; and it would certainly have been
(16) See Deut. xvii.

138 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
provided by the direct intervention of God himself in
due season. This movement upon the part of the peo
ple was, however, premature, and the form which it
assumed was a virtual rebellion against a prophet and
judge who had not yet been discharged from his of
fice, and against Jehovah whom he represented. The
reign of Saul was, therefore, abortive, although per
mitted by Jehovah in order to teach the people the
futility of any rebellion against his own divine sover
eignty. The lesson which they learned during this
reign was that their monarchy could not be separated
from the theocracy, nor from its divine messengers
and representatives in the persons of the prophets.''"'
So, after the death of Saul, the man whom God him
self had chosen and whom Samuel had anointed, the
man after God's own heart, the true typical king of
Israel, ascended the throne. His birthplace was Beth
lehem, where the Messiah himself was to be born;
and the king — though the Hebrews did not know it
at the time, was to be his progenitor. David's Lord
was also to become David's son. David understood
the conditions upon which his reign was accepted of
the Almighty, and from his accession until the close
of his life considered himself a theocratic ruler. It
was during his reign, therefore, that the next great
advance is manifested in the development of the hope
of Israel. David saw in himself a figure of the true
King of Israel, and in his kingdom a shadow of the
eternal one. The particular features of the unfolding
promise appear upon the desire of David to build a
house to the Lord in Jerusalem. The revelation
(17) Old Testament Prophecy ; EUiott, p. 93.

SAMUEL TO SOLOMON. 139
which was made to him upon the expression of this
desire transcends the previous predictions in its en
largement of the Messianic hope. Nathan, the prophet,
came to the king with a wonderful message, of which
two versions are given in the Scripture, the one in
II. Samuel, ch. vii.; the other in I. Chronicles, ch. xvii.
The words employed in both cases are substantiall}-
the same. We quote from the latter: " Furthermore
I tell thee, that the Lord will build thee an house.
And it shall come to pass, when thy days be expired,
that thou must go to be with th}' father, that I will
raise up thy seed after thee, which shall be of thy
sons, and I -will establish his kingdom. He shall build
ine an house, and I will establish his throne forever.
I will be his father and he shall be my son, and I will
not take my mercy away from him as I took it from
him that was before thee; but I will settle him in mine
house ancl in my kingdom forever, and his throne shall
be established for evermore." This promse included
the everlasting reign of the house of David, the erec
tion of the house of Jehovah by the Seed of David, and
the exaltation of the Seed of David to divine sonship.
As the promise which was made to Abraham was
specialized in the promise which was given by the
hand of Moses, so the prediction of Balaam concern
ing the •' Sceptre " and the " Star " which should arise
out of Jacob is now specialized in the vision of the
sceptre of David's Son. The conquering star of Jacob
occupies the throne of David. The Seed of the woman,
afterwards recognized as the Seed of Abraham, is now
still more particularly seen to be the Seed of David.
But the special feature of this prediction is in the rela-

140 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
tion of sonship which is hereby foretold. Israel at the
time of the Exodus had been adopted by Jehovah and
called his "first-born." This relation of sonship is now
particularly applied to the Seed of David, but in a pecu
liar and much higher sense. It will not answer to in
terpret this prediction as referring to Solomon, since
it cannot possibly be fulfilled in him. Solomon, like
David before him, was only the herald of its realiza
tion. David, as the son and seed of Abraham, was
the herald of the realization of that particular prom
ise, as Solomon, the royal son of David, is the herald
in turn of the later features. Solomon sitting upon
David's throne and building the house of Jehovah is
only pointing the way to the full realization of the
promise in the Messiah. The kingdom of David is an
everlasting kingdom. His dynasty is an everlasting
dynasty. His throne is an everlasting throne.
Thus in the prophecy of Nathan the hope of Israel
is still farther particularized and enlarged, and a new
ideal is constituted as the base of the prophecies of the
future. A very large amount of literature is connected with
this period, many of the Psalms being included in it.
It is impossible for us to enter into the consideration
of particular passages, or to dwell upon the beautiful
details of the features of the hope of Israel which are
presented in this age. From this time forth the com
ing ^Messiah was not only the chief feature of the faith
of Israel (as indeed he had always been), but this was
the particular feature wherewith the thought of the
people was the most prominently and the most pas
sionately connected. The book of Psalms, perhaps

SAMUEL TO SOLOMON. 141
more than any other, kept alive these thoughts and
hopes, and gave them character. A very considerable
portion of it was written by David himself, under the
influence of the inspiring promise which had been
made to him. The book was at the same time the
liturgy, the hymnody and the theology of the church.
During the changeful periods in the troubled history
of Israel which were to follow, these beautiful lyrics
ministered to the faith of the people and inspired their
confidence. The grandeur of their conceptions, their
intense pathos, their sweet tenderness of feeling, their
childlike simplicity of faith, and their entire trustful
ness, expressed the deepest religious experience; but
be}-ond these characteristics were the earnestness of the
proclamation of God to the wide world, their view of
the city of God as the ideal state, and their expecta
tion of the fulfillment of every promise in the ultimate
blessedness of the world. Above all, they set forth in
distinct lineaments a portrait of the Messiah King.
Thither do all the lines of thought tend, and therein
do they all center; so that when the nations of the
world in their assaults upon the people of Israel de
stroyed their capital, wasted their land, and carried
away their people into captivity, the divine assertion
was heard above the noise of the tumult, proclaiming
his kingdom upon earth, and promising its ultimate
triumph in the coming Redeemer. The church was
ever ready to respond to this proclamation and promise,
ever ready to confess that it was his flock, the sheep of
his pasture, some day to be gathered into the fold of
the Great Shepherd, whom David, their king, had

142 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
After the death of Solomon came the rebellion of
Jeroboam and the division of the kingdom — the second
period having continued about one hundred and sixty
years. POLITICAL DECLINE ; BRIGHTENING HOPE.
The succeeding period was one of political decline;
but the promises and hopes of the preceding period
were not now to be obscured m the trials and strug
gles of the people as they had been during the period
of the Judges. Those hopes were too bright, those
promises too brilliant, to be extinguished by any flood
of persecution, however severe. So even in the loss
of Hebrew independence the visions of the future be
came all the more exact and all the more inspiring,
culminating in the revelations of that wonderful book
of Isaiah, which has been aptly described as the "Fifth
Gospel." In the prophets of this period many of the
minute features of the coming Deliverer were de
scribed — the manner of his birth, the town in which he
should be born, his personal appearance, his miracles,
his sorrows, the method of his burial, and even his
resurrection; his rejection by the people, the nature of
his sufferings, the sacrificial character of his death and
the extension of his purchased redemption to all man
kind. The prophecies of this period are characterized by
a spirituality and a universalism which was the ulti
mate development of the hope, and had never before
been fully expressed. The prophets looked forward
to a time when the " sons of strangers should join
themselves to Jehovah" and come to his holy mountain;

POLITICAL DECLINE. 1 43
when his house should become a " house of prayer
for all nations," and when all nations should be con
verted to Israel's God. They looked forward to a
time when the Mosaic priesthood should be set aside
in favor of a new order of which Melehisedec was the
type, and when from the Gentiles there should be
"taken for priests and for Levites." They looked
forward to a time when Jehovah should make a new
covenant with Israel, " not according to that when he
brought them out of Egypt," but one in which he
would " put his law in their inward parts and write it
upon their hearts;" when a man "should no longer
teach his neighbor," but all should be taught directly
of God; when "Holiness unto the Lord" — the peculiar
inscription upon the mitre of the high-priest — should
be on all the vessels in common use, and even upon
the bells of the horses; when iniquity should be for
given and sin be remembered no more; when the
" knowledge of the Lord should cover the earth as
the waters cover the sea," and when the Son of David
should be the sole king and shepherd of his people.''*'
There are a multitude of glowing descriptions — of
which these are but illustrations, of the times of the
New Covenant, with its blessings not only to Israel,
but to all mankind. They refer to a spiritual, world
wide dispensation, in which the Kingdom of God
should be co-extensive with the habitable earth.
In connection with these specific promises it must
also be remembered that all the ceremonies of the
Hebrews had some reference, either direct or remote,
(1^) See Prophecy and History in Relation to the Messiah ; Edersheim,
Lect. VI.

144 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
to their distinguishing hope. The promises are not
isolated, but are features of one prophetic picture.
Ritual, institutions and revelations are all parts of one
grand system. Even the historical facts in the life of
Israel are not loosely connected events; but parts of
an organic development tending towards one definite
end. This system was individualized in the Messiah.
The coming deliverer had been from the first reflected
in such objects as the ark, the ladder in Jacob's vision
and the brazen serpent, and following the giving of
the law, in their sacriflces, their thank-offerings, the
construction of the tabernacle and of the temple; in
the altars of sacrifice and of incense, and in the
table of shew-bread, as well as in other furniture of
the Lord's house; in the vestments of the high-priest
and of his inferiors; and in a multitude of things be
side. Their system was saturated with this one great
inspiring expectation; and as the centuries passed by,
and more particularly after the decline and dispersion
of the people, it entered into their life in all of its
forras and aspirations, and became its ruling passion.
Their teachers gave themselves exclusively to its
study. They declared that " all the prophets prophe
sied only of the days of the Messiah," and that " the
world was created only for the Messiah." They found
references to him in many other passages of the Old
Testament than those specific predictions to which we
are accustomed to appeal. The latter formed, as in
the New Testament, but a small proportion of the
whole. That very many besides were regarded as
distinctly Messianic is fully borne out by an analysis
of those passages in the Old Testament to which the

POLITICAL DECLINE. 145
ancient synagogues referred. Their number amounts
to upwards of four hundred and fift}-, and their Messi
anic application is supported by more than five hundred
and fifty references to the ancient Rabbinic writings.''^'
It would seem as if every event came to be regarded
as prophetic, and every prophesy as a light casting its
sheen upon the future, until the picture of the age in
which the Messiah should appear stood out in the
distant background variegated with the manifold
brightness of prophetic utterances. The darkest night
in the history of Israel was lit up by a hundred con
stellations in the heavens above ; and its silence broken
by the echoes of countless voices from the distant but
sympathetic skies.
After the return of the people of Israel to their own
land, following the age of the Maccabees, and in con
nection with the rise of Pharisaism, the character of
this sentiment was to a very great extent altered.
Many fanciful expectations were introduced, which
were entirely unwarranted either by the prophecies or
types of the Scripture. The hope became secular and
exclusive, so that the Jews of Palestine, in the age preced
ing the appearance of Christ had constructed a raental
picture of him which was not realized in his person at
his coming. Jesus of Nazareth was certainly not the
Messiah whom the mass of the Jews of that age
expected.'^"' And yet even at that time, inasmuch as
their ideas were at least based upon the Old Testa
ment, they still embodied the chief features of the
true Messianic hope. The claim of the New Testa-
(19) Edersheim's Messiah ; I, 163.
(20) Edersheim, Vol. I, Book II, ch. v. See the whole chapter.

146 THE HOPE OF ISRAEL.
ment concerning the Messiah is fully supported by
Rabbinic statements. Such doctrines as the pre-mun-
dane existence of the Messiah; his superiority to
Moses and even to the angels; his representative char
acter; his sufferings; his violent death — and that for
his people; his peculiar work of power; his redemption
and the restoration of Israel; the prevalence of his
law; the universal blessings of the latter days, and the
extension of his kingdom — all were held even in that
age by the teachers of Israel; and although there was
much connected with these doctrines which was indis
tinct, incoherent, and explained from a much lower
standpoint, a people was thus made ready for the
Lord, composed of many sincere souls who " waited
for the consolation of Israel."
But we shall now discover, as we pass to the suc
ceeding chapters, that before the rise of Pharisaism,
the glorious hope of Israel, which had developed along
the lines indicated, had been already communicated to
the nations, in connection with certain great upheavals
in society and certain great movements of human
thought. It had ahead}- entered upon its world-history
and mission. The period of diffusion came. The
Israelites were dispersed throughout the earth and a
class of Jews arose who did not belong to Palestine and
were not infected with its prejudices. These matters
will be considered in the following division of our
book.

Part III.

Period of Diffusion: Japhetic Supremacy.

" Remove the diadem; take off the crown. * * * Exalt him that
is low and abase him that is high. I will overturn, overturn, overturn
it * * * until he come whose right it is, and I will give it him."
— Ezek. xxi: 26, 27.

Chapter VI: The Great Overturning.
Chapter VII: The Great Intellectual Revolution.
ChapterVIII: The Hellenizing of the Nations.
Chapter IX: The Transformation of the Jew.
Chapter X: The Unification of the ^VoRLD.

Chapter VI.
THE GREAT OVERTURNING.
During the nine hundred years which have been re
viewed in the preceding chapter, the political power of
the world was in the hands of the great Semitic empires.
Sufficient time had been given them to make full proof
of their ability to purify society and elevate mankind,
but their efforts had ended in dismal failure. They
had developed a gorgeous civilization— rich to excess
in every feature of external magnificence, but hopeless
ly corrupt at heart. It was time for their experiment
to end. The day of their probation, therefore, drew to;
a close, and in the providence of God their sceptre was ,
to be transferred to other hands.
But at this important juncture the Hebrew, with his
fully developed hope should be at hand — a witness and
a factor. The people who had originally come from
Chaldgea should be led back to it again. The light of
life which had been given into their hands should be
waved back and forth over the entire territory that
stretched from the mountains of Persia to the cataracts
of the Nile, in order that its reflections might be seen
in the uttermost outposts of civilization. When the
people of Judah were carried to Babylon, the world
was on the eve of the greatest overturning which it
had ever experienced. History does not afford its
parallel until the destruction of the Roman empire.
This revolution was to determine the destinies of the

150 THE GREAT OVERTURNING.
world and the character of its civilization; and in this
respect was more influential than anything which had
transpired since the flood or which was to transpire
until the Messiah himself should come.
NEBUCHADNEZZAR.
Babylon, to which the Hebrew was carried, was the
last and the greatest of the Semitic empires; and
Nebuchadnezzar, his captor, was the last and the great
est of the Semitic conquerors. The imperial city was the
most magnificent of all the cities of the ancient world,
and Nebuchadnezzar was her " Head of Gold." He
holds the same relation to the history of the East as
Rameses II. to the history of Egypt. He also was a
great builder. Scarcely any other name is found upon
the bricks of Babylon. His power was much the same,
his ambition and his assumptions. He proudly boasted,
" Is not this great Babylon that I have built for the house
of the kingdom, by the might of my power, and for the
honor of my majesty;"''' and he is to be instrumentally
credited with those qualities, both political and martial,
which gave to his capital her proud pre-eminence.
"Babylon the Great " was the marvel of antiquity.
But while this mighty conqueror, like Rameses before
him, had raised his extensive empire to the highest pitch
of magnificence, he had plunged its people into the deep
est abyss of servility. In striking contrast to that people
by whom his kingdom was overthrown, whose king
always consulted with his nobles, and was even com
pelled at times to act against his own wishes in obed
ience to the law "which altered not," the Emperor of
(1) Dan. iv:30.

XEB ULHA UXEZZ,\ h li^l
the Babylonian empire was absolute in the fullest sense
of the word. No law restrained him. His highest dig
nitary was a mere slave dependent upon his caprice.
No officer in the State, however high his rank, was
.sure of his position. Whora the great king " would
he slew, and whom he would he kept alive.""*' Like
Rameses of old this exalted personage clairaed to be a
son of his god. In his sight mere men were as noth
ing. Nebuchadnezzar declared his own divine concep
tion. " Merodach," he says, " created me in my raoth
er's womb." There can scarcely be a question, there
fore, that the golden image which he set up, as des
cribed in the prophecy of Daniel, and which all his
subjects were commanded to worship upon the pain of
being " cast into the midst of a burning fiery furnace,"
was a likeness of himself. The incident of its erec
tion is illustrated in many of its details by the inscrip
tions, or by hints frora ancient authors. Diodorus of
Sicily describes certain of these images which adorned
the great temple of Bel, and which contained in all a
mass of precious metal equal in value to $85,000,000
of our money. Herodotus testifies that there was a
statue of solid gold at Babylon in the time of Xerxes,
18 feet high. Nebuchadnezzar in the spoil which he
gathered throughout western Asia certainly carried
off a sufficient amount of the precious metals to con
struct such an image as Daniel describes, especially if,
as it is hkely, it was not made of solid gold but only
thickly over-laid with it. One of his inscriptions in
forms us that he plated an altar before the teraple of
Bel with pure gold and lined all the interior of the
(2) Dan., v: 19.

152 THE GREAT OV ERTU liX IXG.
sanctuary "with beaten gold shining like the rising and
setting sun." If the gigantic iraage which he set up
was not intended to be a likeness of hiraself it repre
sented Merodach, his alleged father, and therefore the
worship of the image was in either case substantially
the worship of himself, and designed to honor hira as
divine.'^' It was, therefore, just such a tirae as those in which
the Alraighty had before interfered in the interests of
his people and his truth. The blaspheraies of Nebuchad
nezzar, the culraination of his political power and the
unspeakable immoralities of his people, were connected
with the bondage of the people of God after the same
exai-nple which we have observed in connection with
the Egyptian oppression.
The judgment of Babylon had been decreed; but
sentence would not be pronounced until due warning
had been given. The revolution should be accom
plished mercifully, if possible; but pitilessl}' if necessary.
As before the Egyptian oppressor appeared Moses with
his demand " Let my people go;" so before the Babylon
ian monarch carae Daniel with the interpretation of the
king's own dreara — the vision of that great image of
which the king was the golden head. But Nebuchad
nezzar was no raore affected by the warning than
Pharaoh had been; nor his blasphemous career arrested.
He set up the golden idol, and cast the very people of
God into the furnace for not adoring it.
We observe therefore another illustration of the
"fulness of tirae." We perceive the sarae leading up
to the events now about to transpire, that we have
(3) Geilie's Hours with the Bible, vi., 276.

THE MEDES AND PERSIANS 1C3
observed in former instances and shall observe asrain
hereafter. The great overturning is at hand. Of it
the Hebrew shall be the witness and in it he shall be the
most conspicuous factor. What is its character.?
THE MEDES AND PERSIANS.
While Nebuchadnezzar was rejoicing in his power and
security, and saying to himself "I have made completel}'
strong the defenses of Babylon; may it last forever," a
more vigorous and more virtuous people than his own
were growing up to the east and north of hira. Across
the world frora east to -west ran a giant wall greater
than the wall of Babylon — the backbone of Asia and
Europe. It begins in the Eastern Himalayas, contin
ues in the range of the Zagros and Elburz, unites in
the Caucasus and Taurus, and so follows on through the
Carpathian and Styrian mountains until it emerges in
the Alps and Pyrenees.'*' On the southern side of this
wall the civilized nations of antiquity developed in In
dia, Mesopotamia and Egypt; as they did centuries
afterward in Greece and Italy. On the northern side of
the wall those tribes were nurtured which have from
time to time descended upon the south to scourge it,
and subdue it; to blight its civilization, and afterwards
to restore it. The mighty race which occupied the
table land between the mountain range northeast of
Mesopotamia was rising into importance. The special
education of that nation was to ride the horse, to shoot
with the bow and to speak the truth. They had started
upon a career of conquest which was to end in the over
throw of Babylon itself. They believed in a eternal
(4) St.-inlsy, 111, 5.V

154 THE GREAT OVERTURNING.
conflict between light and darkness, and themselves the
followers of light as personified in their god Ormuzd.
They imbibed from their very religion an energetic
and conquering spirit. The raore splendor there was in
life, the more was Ormuzd glorified, and Ahriman,
the prince of darkness, confounded.'^' They displayed
almost the sarae fanaticisra which the Saracens subse
quently showed, except that they were better able to
control it; and their career of conquest was restless and
rapid. They threw themselves headlong upon oppos
ing races. Before their career was ended they had not
only overrun all Asia, but they had crossed the Helles
pont, to be arrested only at Salamis.
CYRUS.
Their first great commander was Cyrus, descended
from the little clan known as the Achaeraenians, and in
whora the Medes and Persians were harmoniously united.
He marched from Arbela in the year 546 B. C, crossed
the Tigris and united the Median power to his own.
The following year he opened the campaign against
Babylonia; but being for a time repulsed he raarched
beyond Babylon and subjugated Lydia. Thence he
returned and reopened the campaign against Babylon.
The great city had already suffered the loss of its
dependencies and was surrounded on all sides by the
Persians and their allies. In the year 538 B. C, the
decisive blow was struck and Cyrus entered his new
capital in triumph. Only twenty-six years have elapsed
since the death of Nebuchadnezzar. The last insuf
ferable act of blasphemy h s been performed in
(5) Ancient World and Christianity ; De Pressense, chap. i.

EUROPEAN HISTORY BEGINS. 155
Belshazzar's feast, and his degradation of the sacred
vessels of Jehovah's temple. The hour of doora has
struck. His " kingdora is divided and given to the
Medes and Persians." It was like the overthrow of
Rome b}' the Northern barbarians, making wa}- for
the rise of a new civilization. The great revolution
was accomplished. The political power of the earth
was transferred into new and better hands.
Already they were rising in the west, as well as in
the east. The sarae age, alraost the sarae generation,
was marked by the accession of two great potentates
in Greece and in the Grecian colonies of Asia Minor —
Pisistratus at Athens and Crcesus at Sardis. The same
age also brings us into the midst of the first authentic
personages of Roman history, the Tarquins, whose ex
pulsion from Rorae was the founding of the Republic.
EUROPEAN HISTORY BEGINS.
Here, then, is the end of Semitic domination. Hence
forth the civilization of the world is to be Japhetic.
Although Cyrus and his people were Asiatics, and al
though their governmental policy was Oriental in char
acter, nevertheless his kinship with Japhetic nations
was such that the turning-point of history was reached,
whereat it was determined that the rulers of the earth
for hundreds of years to corae should be European, not
Asiatic. From this time forward the world of Greece
and Rome was to occupy the horizon of thought until
the Redeemer should come.
It was a terrible overturning. Dean Stanley very
beautifully describes the prophet Ezekiel'"' as sitting
(6) Chaps, xxiv-xxxii.

156 THE GREAT OVERTURNING.
over asrainst the grave of nations into which tribe after
tribe and kingdom after kingdom — Tyre, Assyria,
and venerable Egypt, go plunging down among the
bloody corpses of the past, until now the oldest and
grandest of thera all was about to descend into the
sarae sepulchral vault which had received its predeces
sors and rivals. The prophecy of Noah was at last
fulfilled: "God shall enlarge Japheth and he shall
dwell in the tents of Shem."'''
THE SECOND EXODUS.
We know but little of the individual character of
Cyrus. But it can hardly be without foundation that
both in Greek and Hebrew literature he is represented
as the type of a just and gentle prince. In the provi
dence of God he was the liberator and benefactor of
Israel, the best friend which the Jew has ever found
in all of his checkered history; nor can the Christian
forget the depth of gratitude which he owes to his
memory. His religion brought him into close syrapa
thy with the Jew, as it approached more closely to the
purity of the Jewish faith than did the idolatry of Ba
bylonia. Herodotus testifies that the Persians had no
images of the gods, and neither teraples nor altars,
and that they considered the use of thera a sign of
folly. There is said to have been not a single impure,
cruel or immoral practice united to any of their rehg
ious ceremonies. It is not strange, therefore, that
Cyrus should have brought the Jewish captivity to an
end and gi-\-en the order for their return to their own
land and for the rebuilding of their temple. He is
(') Gen. ix:27.

THE RELIGIOUS EFFECT. -^ tn
even dignified by Isaiah with the title, " The Lord's
Anointed." No other heathen (if indeed he was a
heathen) is thus dignified, or distinguished by more
affectionate languag-e.
We are now to consider the effect which was pro
duced upon the people of Israel in consequence of their
sojourn in Babylonia, and the influence which they
were to exert in consequence upon the world, in its
preparation for the advent of the Messiah. This effect
upon the Israelites was of a two-fold character. First,
rehgious; second, political.
THE RELIGIOUS EFFECT.
The time of the Messiah's appearing was now rapidly
approaching, and it becarae necessary that the chosen
people, through whora he was to appear, should be
fitted for the period which was now to succeed, by a
very peculiar training. They were, therefore, carried
into Babylonia a sufficient length of time before the
coming of Cyrus and the overthrow of the Semitic
religions and civilization, to effectually cure them of
all tendencies towards idolatry. During the seventy
years of their captivity their religious life was slowly
re-awakened under the influence of their raisfortunes
and the stimulating words of their prophets. Their
servitude had not been so severe as it was in the land
of Egypt. They seemed to have been settled in colo
nies here and there throughout the land, working in
various forms of bond service, but allowed free inter
course -with each other and perraitted to retain their
distinct organization and customs, at least to a consid
erable extent ; but the iron of slavery had none the less

158 THE GREAT OVERTURNING.
entered deeply into their souls. Contempt and hatred
were lavished upon thera. They were subjected to
abuse which culrainated frequently in the dungeon or
in death. They were despoiled, robbed, betrayed, and
iraprisoned, until their spirits were crushed and their
lives embittered. After a time their condition seems
to have iraproved. They were perraitted to hold land
and culti^¦ate ^•ineyards and follow certain trades, and
they accumulated thereby some property, doubtless in
consequence of that merciful providence which was
preparing the way for their return. But they grew more
and raore discontented with Babylonia. They recalled
with more and more fervor the days of their early his
tory, especially the times of Abraham and the patri
archs, and the longings for rederaption becarae with
thera a passion which we find expressed in sorae of
the rnost pathetic literature which the period has given
to us. Araong the Psalms which were written at, or
just after this time, we raay select as a single illustra
tion the 126th: "When theLord turned again the
captivity of Zion we were like thera that dreamed.
Then was our mouth filled with laughter and our
tongue with singing. Then said they among the
heathen, the Lord hath done great things for them.
The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we
are glad. Turn again our captivity, O Lord, as the
streams in the south. They that sow in tears shall
reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing
precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing,
bringing his sheaves with him." Sincere penitence for
the past, and determination to be true to Jehovah in
the future, increased. They celebrated the days of

THE RELIGIOUS EFFECT. i en
their calamities in the siege of Jerusalem by a solemn
fast. A religious revival seems to have extended
among the people. The habit of observing fixed
hours of prayer became common. Those who feared
Jehovah were accustomed to meet together for suppli
cation and religious counsel. The faces were always
turned in prayer towards the site of the ruined temple
as the spot where God had once been nearest to man.'^'
The change in their condition very closely resembles
the period of the Reformation. Those who were the
most affected by it became the Puritans of the Hebrew
church. This was the class which went back to their
own land when the decree of Cyrus was promulgated.
Many of the Jews had become contaminated with the
idolatry and immorality of Babylon and could not be
reclaimed. Babylon was to the ancient world what
Paris is to the world to-day, and some of the chosen
people, immersed in its pleasures and absorbed in the
business opportunities which it presented, or in the
opportunities of social and political advancement, pre
ferred to remain where they were. Those who re
turned were those whose hearts were set upon serving
the God of their fathers. The land was thus re-sown
with a select seed. The clear wine of the nation was
drained off, leaving the lees behind. It must be re
membered, however, that the religious revival con
tinued after the first colony of Jews had departed from
Babylon, and resulted in the withdrawal of other colo
nies in the course of tirae from their heathen surround
ings, and in the purification of those that remained.
In a word, then, the religious effect upon the people
I'^i Hours with the Bible ; VI, chap. i6.

l6o THE GREAT OVERTURNING.
was to transform the Hebrew into the Jew. The
Israelite, as we know him to-day, dates back to Baby
lon rather than to Egypt. All those characteristic
principles and eraotions which we observe in the Israel
ite of the New Testaraent were begotten of the Baby
lonish captivity. Their special reverence for the
sacred text; the class of scribes whose pleasure and
duty it was to transcribe it, to study it ancl to expound
it; the synagogue or popular religious raeeting of the
Jewish people; a multiplication of forms of prayer,
and the indulgence and liberty to emplo}', upon occa
sion, prayers which were not liturgical — all these
features, and many like them, date from that age.
But, more than all else, the Hebrew became a Jew in
that his exclusive views of his own religion were
largely modified. There had been opened to him a
much broader horizon. He had been taught a certain
philosophy of history, in consonance with which, under
the leadership of such prophets as Isaiah, Jeremiah,
Ezekiel and Daniel, he began to understand his true
place among the nations of the world and to intelli
gently forecast the future. However narrow he may
have subsequently become in his bigoted zeal for the
law, and his punctilious formalism; it was certainly
raade plain to hira as never before, that he had a mis
sion to fulfill which should not be completed until the
Gentiles received the light.
THE POLITICAL EFFECT.
The political effect upon the Jew is as marked as
the religious one. It is also closely associated with
it and is thus invested with great importance.

THE POLITICAL EFFECT. l6l
The modification of Hebrew seclusion, of which we
have just spoken, became itself marked in connection
with political affairs and reacted upon his religious
sentiments. The names of a number of Hebrews
who held office under the Persian kings have come
down to us. We know of two prime ministers, one
queen, one cup-bearer, three governors of a province,
one keeper of the royal forest, and the like, and
unquestionably there were many more who served in
similar capacities.
It was due to the fostering friendship of the Persian
kings that the Jewish people rapidly spread abroad
throughout all the nations of the East until within
fifty years after their emancipation. Haraan, their
would-be destroyer, could describe thera in this lan
guage: "A certain people scattered abroad and dis
persed among all the people in all the provinces of thy
kingdom, their laws diverse from all people."'^' The
isolation of the Jew has now ceased, and he is about
to enrich the nations of the world with the principles
and aspirations of his religion. The intercommunica
tion between Jews and Gentiles answered the purpose
of divine providence in maintaining a certain relation
between the received religions and other religions, and
between the chosen people and other peoples. The
Jew became a cosmopolitan. He formed the vital
bond between the nations of the old world and the
new. In him the East and the West were united.
Although henceforth, as always, Jerusalem was to be
the religious capital of the people, yet there were two
great centers of their national life, Babylon in the
(9) Esther, iii: 8.

1 62 THE GREAT OVERTURNING.
east and Jerusalera in the west. About an equal
number of Jews resided in each place. There was a
generous rivalry between thera. Two separate schools
of Jewish thought grew up, one in each of these great
cities, and from these centers Jewish influences radi
ated throughout the eastern and the western world.
The revolution which was thus accomplished pro
duced effects upon the Jew himself not unlike those
which were produced in other nations. The Jew was
revolutionized. Henceforth he was never again to be
perraitted to enjoy an independent national life. The
tirae has now corae when he must be a missionary and
a witness to the promises of God. Again Judea is to
become the highway of the nations, but not in the same
sense in which it formerly was. In the days before the
Babylonian captivity the Hebrews themselves made
but little use of this highway. They were content to
dwell in their own land. But frora this tirae forth
they theraselves were to be the great travelers of earth —
carrying their religious principles with them. The
seclusion of the Jew has done its work. The Jew must
now become, not the most secluded, but the most con
spicuous person upon the earth. In the seclusion which
he forraerly enjoyed his religion was brought to its full
developraent. Under the captivity which he has just
suffered he has been rendered absolutely loyal to it.
His character cannot now be altered by contact with
the nations of the world; so while he is to freely min
gle with thera, it shall be only as the precious gold is
freely intermingled with the baser minerals of the
earth, while it is never corrupted by them.
Thus in the overturning of the old civilization and

THE POLITICAL EFFECT. 163
the transmission of power frora Semitic to Japhetic
nations, and also in that mighty revolution which
transformed the secluded Hebrew into the " Wander
ing Jew," the Almighty -was preparing for that greatest
of all epochs, when his salvation was to be published
throughout the earth.
It may possibly be discovered some day that the
words of the prophet Ezekiel have a different meaning
and wider interpretation than has thus far been as
sumed. He says:
" And thou, O deadly wounded wicked one, the Prince of
Israel, whose day is come, in the time of the iniquity of the end,
thus saith the Lord God; remove the mitre, and take off the
crown; this shall be no more the same. Exalt thatwhich is
low, and abase that which is high. I will overturn, overturn,
overturn it: This also shall be no more, until he come whose
right it is; and I will give it him." (Ch. xxi: 25-27, R. V.)
The words are, to say the least, remarkably applica
ble to the abasing of Babylonia, and the exalting of
Persia, when the crown was forever, taken from the
head of the Semitic race.

B. C 5025
500 75
60
26
400 75
5025
300 755025
200

"IT WAS WRITTEN IN
HEBREW, GREEK AND LATIN.''
HEBREW. GREEK. LATIN.

IOO

75 5025

Decree of Cyrus.

Fall of Babylon.
THALES.

The Tarquins.

Zerubbabel.

Pythagoras.
Xenophanes.

THEREPUBLIC

Esther.

Marathon. Salamis

Tribunes of People.

Ezra.

PERICLES.

M EH EMI AH.

Democrltus
Peloponessian War.

Xll TABLES.

MALACHI.

SOCRATES.

JUS CIVILE.

Plato

Aristotle.
Consuls.
Jaddua
ALEXANDER.
Seleucus 1.
Sim^n the Just
Septuagint.
Ptolemy Phil's.
Zeno Epicurus
1st Punic War.
Sadducees and
Pharisees.
Antiochusthe Great-
2nd Punic War.
Ant's Epiphanes.
Judas Maccabeus.
3rd Punic War.
Capture of
Corinth.
Destruction of
Carthage.
John Hyrcanus.
JUS GENTIUM.
Sylla.
Judaea Conquered.
Pompey
Herod the Great.
Julius Caesar
JUS NATURALE
PHILO.
Subject'n of Egypt.
AUGUSTUS.
Copyright, 1891; by D. R. Kkhed.
Chapter VII.
THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
As we enter the fifth century before Christ, there
seeras to be a hastening of events in the course of pre
paration of the world for the Redeemer. His coraing
draws rapidly nigh; and the raoveraent of providence
is distinctly directed to that particular influence which
is to be exercised upon the nations of the earth in order
to fit them for the reception of the truth accorapany
ing salvation. <^'
What is to be done in order to prepare the way of
the Lord.? But a few hundred years remain until God
shall command all men everywhere to repent, and the
Redeemer shall send forth his apostles with the blessed
message of reconciliation, to make disciples of all na
tions. How shall the world be raade ready for the inaug
uration of this work ? We can readily answer, even with
a little thought on the subject, that these three things
must certainly be secured in advance: ist. Provision
must be made for the safety of the divine messenger,
as he goes upon his apostolic raission. 2d, Facility of
intercourse raust be insured, in order that his thought
may be readil}^ communicated to those whom he desires
to influence. 3d, And such a measure of fraternal feeling
(1) A frequent reference to the accompanying chart will greatly assist
the reader in locating the events of providential history and their mutual
relations.

1 66 THE GRE.A.T INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
must be provided, as to secure a degree of sympathy;
which sympathy shall be expressed not only in the
presence of certain individuals who shall in some way
be akin to him; but also in a community of thought
and of custom which may render his hearers, wherever
he find thera, whether in Europe, Asia or Africa, dis
posed to Hsten to his message. We are not consider
ing a theory in view of the facts of history ; but reason
ing from certain well-known conditions of successful
effort, as they appear, for example, in the missionar}'
operations of our own day. The successors of the
Apostles have been often hindered, even in very recent
times, because these things were not provided: Their
persons were not secure; the language of the people to
whom they went was a unknown tongue; and violent
prejudices were aroused among those whora they sought
to benefit. On the other hand, the raost rapid progress
has been made where their rights were secured by
treaty; where they found a language with which they
were already familiar; and where, even under a hos
tile governraent, they found a sraall community with
whom they were able to establish some bond of com
mon feeling; as, for exaraple, the Armenians and Nes
torians in the Turkish and Persian empires.
We find therefore, as we enter upon the study of
this period, that the Lord is providing the agents which
are exactly fitted to supply, the necessary conditions for
the rapid and successful propagation of the Gospel, in
the singular dispersion of three great separate races.
Of these the Greek is to supply the common language
and literature; the Roman, the political power which
insures equal rights to all the subjects of his vast

THE MISSION OF THE GREEK. 167
empire; and the Hebrew, the scattered communities
among whom his own brethren who have accepted
Christ, are first to preach the Gospel, and through
whom they are to reach the heathen.
THE MISSION OF THE GREEK.
The mission of the Greek was one of thought, with
the incomparable Greek language as its vehicle. Greek
is the richest and most delicate tongue which the peo
ple of the earth have ever spoken. It can best express
the highest thoughts of the mind and the worthiest
emotions of the heart. It is to this day the instruraent
of education for the world, the source of the most re
fined intellectual culture. The race which spoke this
language had therefore a providential calling. Their
thought was first to develop and discipline the
minds of men. Their language was then to be car
ried throughout the civilized world; and finally the
Almighty hiraself was to cast the revelation of Jesus
Christ into the forms of that language, make use of
that thought and employ the very expressions which it
had originated in presenting the New Covenant to the
world. The Israelite himself could scarcely have discerned,
even from the heights to which his prophets had car
ried him, the coming of that great nation of the west
and the mighty influence which it was about to exert.
The whole western world at the time of his return from
Babylon, seemed to hira to be suraraed up in the only
object that was within his view, the distant range of
the comparatively insignificant island of Cyprus. It
may be that a few Jewish seamen, who had served in

l68 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
the armies of the empire of the Persians, had wandered
to the west and shared in the struggles which it had
waged with the east in the ineffectual effort of the
"great king" to subdue its people; but no distinct
voice had yet reached them from those distant regions.
Soon, however, the Jew himself was to hear the accents
of that Grecian tongue which was to displace his own
in the language of his very synagogue and of his own
sacred books. " Not I)}- eastern windows only
When daylight comes, comes in the light;
In front the sun climbs slow — how slowly,
But westward, look ! the land is bright." t^)
GREEK COLONIES.
It is a most significant fact that while the power and
influence of the other great peoples of the ancient world
were extended by conquest the influence of the Greeks
was chiefly extended by colonization.'^^ From the
very earliest times, even from those of which there is
no authentic history, they were rovers. It is presumed
that they passed over into Greece from Phrj'gia, in the
northwestern part of Asia Minor. But they were
scarcely settled in the land which was to be the seat of
their dominion, before they entered upon that career
which made them distinctively a maritime and coramer
cial people. It is raore than likely that the)' acquired
their habit from contact with the Phcenicians — the first
great travelers of the world. Indeed it is more than
likely that we should find upon investigation, if there
were sufficient material to supply it, that the Phoeni-
(2) History of the Jewish Church ; Stanley; III, p. 214,
(3) Well set forth by Conybeare and Howson, Vol. I, ch. i.

GREEK COLONIES. 1 69
cians themselves had a distinct part in the preparation
of the world for the diffusion of Greek influence (and
thus for the coming of the Redeemer,) by their com
munication to them of their roving inclination. In very
early times different tribes of the Greeks had spread
through Macedonia, Sicily, Peloponnesus; and thence
to Thrace, beyond the Bosphorus, along the shores of
the Black Sea, down again albng the western coast of
Asia ]Minor, returning to their home in Phrygia, colon
izing Lydia, crossing over to Crete, spreading as far
west as Sicily and Southern Italy. Among the cities
which were founded by them during this period
were Syracuse (734 B. C), Sybaris (720 B. C),
Craton (710 B. C), Psestum (Poseidonia), and Curase
(about the same date), and Byzantium (657 B. C).
Their emigrations extended still farther. Greek colo-
nies were settled along the southern coast of what is
now known as France. Massiha, the modern Mar
seilles (600 B. C), was one of their colonies, and thence
again they spread farther west, and settled along the
coast of Spain, founding their westernmost colony at
Msenoca, within 100 miles of the Straits of Gibraltar.
They came also into close intercourse with Egypt and
built Naucratis (550 B. C), which was colonized from
Miletus. They spread to the west, founding the flour
ishing City of Cyrene (630 B. C). They settled as
far west as Carthage. They were at once the rivals
and successors of the Tyrians and Carthaginians, trans
planting their language and their customs to every port
into which their ships sailed. '*' These Greek colonies,
especially those of Southern Italy, becarae exceedingly
(4) History of Greece ; Grote; Chapters xx to xxii.

170 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
ingly populous, prosperous and influential, and in course
of time luxurious and effeminate. Our word " Sybar
ite " still preserves to this day the history of the plea
sure-loving people of that splendid city frora which it
is derived — a cit}' which could once muster from its
dependencies an array of 300,000 men. Yet there
were other colonies equally important, such as Croton,
the rival and conqueror* of Sybaris, whose very senate
had a thousand members!*^'
These early colonies, therefore, even had there not
been a later raoveraent of vast pi'oportions to follow
them, would certainly have exercised a mighty influ
ence upon civilization. The Greeks were the lettered
people of antiquity. Wherever a love of knowledge
and of art was awakened there Greek books pene
trated, Greek teachers were found, and Greek art was
cultivated. These colonies, even the most distant of
them, were always loyal to the spirit of the fatherland.
The children of colonists, who had never themselves
seen Greece, yet turned to it with longing eyes and
affectionately cherished its traditions. '^^ The pre-emi
nence and permanence of Greek thought and of Greek
institutions, even in those colonies, is signally illus
trated in the beautiful ruins still standing in Southern
Italy and which coramand the admiration of the tour
ist of our own day.
These Greek colonies, therefore, served a providen
tial purpose. They were the heralds in early times of
that general Greek influence which was one day to be
felt throughout all the world, and in that portion of
^^^ History of Greece ; Grote; Chapter xxii.
(b) History of Rome : Mommsen; I. 184.

GREEK THOUGHT. 171
the world, namely, the west of Europe, to which Greek
institutions were not to be carried by the conquering
armies of Alexander. They held the ground by an
intellectual pre-emption, thus to provide for the con
nection of the East with the West when the time for
the hellenizing of the world should have arrived.
GREEK THOUGHT.
But before the general diffusion of the Greek lan
guage and the general influence which accompanied it,
the Greeks had a distinct mission to the world in di
recting its thought into those channels wherein it
should be led to an earnest striving after truth and a
readiness to accept it when it should be made known.
A beautiful figure of Mommsen 's has suggested the
thought that it was unquestionably a part of the divine
plan that the political development of the Greeks
should not keep pace with their intellectual develop
ment; but, "just as too full a bloom bursts the cup that
contains it," so, on thu contrary, the petty-state system
of Greece insured the hellenizing of the world. '^*
The history of Greek philosophy is one of the most
engaging studies which the scholar can pursue. It is
impossible for us in the limits of the present work, and
it is inconsistent with its design, to trace that history
in detail. We must content ourselves with a brief re
view of the earlier systems, following it with a more
particular notice of that singular period when those
philosophers appeared who represented the noblest
struggles and aspirations of the classic mind. We
(.t) Provinces ofthe Roman Empire; Book VIII, chap. vii. (" Greek
Europe.")

172 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
shall first observe the succession of several forms of
philosophy, each of them dying through that which
was false and incomplete in it, and each succeeded by
a doctrine which was a refutation of the errors con
tained in its predecessor, yet containing in itself other
errors, which in turn led to its own dissolution.
EARLY PHILOSOPHERS.
Strange to say, the early Greek philosophies were
all originated outside of Greece, in the colonies to
which we have referred. It was in Ionia, at the tirae
when Solon was founding Athenian democracy, that
philosophy, properly so called, made its first appear
ance with Thales of Miletus, 640 to 550 B. C. He and
the philosophers who immediately followed him repre
sented the gross naturism which predominated in Asia
Minor. Thales supposed that water was the first prin
ciple of all things, from which they arose by its solidifica
tion. It has been held that Thales formed this concep
tion during a visit to Egypt, beholding the blessings of
which the Nile was the instrumental source, and being
impressed with the divine honors which were paid to
the streara. '^^ Other authorities, however, question
whether Thales ever journeyed so far, and deny this
assuraption.'^' His philosophy rather betrays the first
independent effort of the Greek mind to extricate it
self from the ancient fable which represented the earth
as floating upon water, and manifests the influence of
the old popular theories. Water — that is to say, hu
midity — appeared to hira to be the condition and
source of life, the germinal principle, the explanation
(8) Presbyterian Review ; Vol. X, No. 38.
(9) History of Ancient Philosophy ; Ritter, Book II, ch. 3.

EARLY PHILOSOPHERS. 173
of all nutrition and development. Even his notion that
humidity is the source of heat must be referred to the
old legend that the sun and stars were nourished by
the vapors arising from the sea. He regarded the en
tire world, therefore, as endowed with a living prin
ciple; an ensouled thing, capable of self-development
by reason of its humidity. He believed every portion
of the world to be invested with this life principle,
which in some things — the magnet in particular, re
ceived a special manifestation. Such was Greek phil
osophy in the doctrine of its first expounder.'^"'
The successors of Thales supposed the great primary
essence to be an infinite one, of which present exist
ences are parts, and from which they have become in
some way detached. Anaximander, his disciple, was
one of the mightiest brains of that early philosophic
age. He it was who made the first geographical map,
and who, if he did not himself invent the sun-dial, at
least explained and popularized it.'"' Plis master com
mitted httle, if anything, to writing; Anaximander
composed the first philosophic treatise. He first uses
the Greek term for the principle of all things («PZ'?),
and cahed it the infinite {jo a-jiEipov'). The words
q)-uGii (from which our " physics "), hogho? " cosmos "
and EidooXov (" idol " — but used in a metaphysical sense
as against polytheism), first appear with these writers.
He doubtless understood by the primeval and infinite
the mixture of all elementary parts frora which indi
viduals issued by separation, an idea very sirailar to
the ancient notion of chaos. Nevertheless he regarded
(10) Greek Philosophy ; Zeller, § 10; Ritter, Book iii, ch. 3.
(T) Grote, ch. xvi.

174 '^'^^ GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
this mixture as a unity; immortal, indestructible, and
invested with iraraeasurable energy. But the multi
plicity of elements of which this unity is composed are
in time subdivided, thus producing all phenomena.
Such, in brief, was his theory.
These philosophers were succeeded by those of the
Pythagorean school, which accepted dualism and en
deavored to formulate it. Its founder, who was born
at Samos about 580 B. C, came to Croton at the close
of the century. Thus, as the first great school of Greek
philosophy is found in Asia Minor, the second is located
in Southern Italy.
The Greek colonies of this section nad arrived at
their raost flourishing stage; they were wealthy and
prosperous, and many of their citizens had carried off
the honors in the Olympic games. The unfortunate
conflict between Sybaris and Croton had not yet oc
curred, and the dual colony furnished a splendid field
for the display of the philosopher's genius. '^^'
The Pythagorean philosophy is a radical departure
from the doctrines which preceded it, in that it starts
from the form rather than from the matter of the sens
ible universe. The system is derived from a certain
fondness for mathematical studies which first engaged
the attention of its disciples and which they had greatly
advanced. Their leading principle is advanced in the
forraula, "Number (apz^yuoff) is the essence (^o-tijaia')
or first principle {apx^) of all things." This form
ula, however, must be taken symbolically. We must
remeraber the peculiar bias of their rainds and thereby
construe the many forced similitudes which they em-
(12) Grote, xxxvii.

EARLY PHILOSOPHERS. 175
ployed. With them number was the unity of two con
traries, the odd and the even. "One" is both odd and
even. It is therefore the unity, the very essence of
number, the absolute number. Their formula thus be
comes but their way of saying that the All is from the
original One, which One is the Divine. From this
primitive number all things are evolved. But inas
much as this primitive number is both odd and even,
all the elements of nature, however mutually diverse
their character, are derived therefrom. They arranged
these elements thus:''^'
The odd and the even;
The limited and the limitless;
The right and the left;
The male and the female;
Light and darkness;
Good and evil, etc.
This was dualism. They recognized two principles
ever opposed to each other, of which one was the ma
terial and the other the spiritual, yet requiring the
impossible subordination of the material. Their doc
trines consequentl}' led them into nihilism — the drear
iest conclusion of the human mind.
The natural evolution of this school produced that
of Elea, the third great system of Greek thought, the
second of lower Italy. '^*' It is distinguished from its
predecessors by its reckless disregard of sensible phe
nomena. It represented an extreme idealism. It main
tained that the source of all truth was independent of
and superior to sense. All the arguments of Xeno
phanes, its founder (570-480 B. C), may be reduced
(13) Ritter, Book IV; chap, ii; Zeller, §15.
(14) Ritter, Book V.

176 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
to two heads: A conception of the deity as an all-
powerful being, and the denial of all beginning of
being. From his conception of the deit}' proceeded a
train of reasoning in which all multiplicity was denied.
A plurality of gods he held to be inconceivable, inas
much as his theory implied, that since God was all-
powerful, there could be no division of his omnipotence,
else it would be thus destroyed. He was thus brought
into collision with polytheism, which he regarded as
an antiquated prejudice. His theories led him into
the strangest speculations. He held that God was
neither moved nor unmoved; neither limited nor un
limited; that he was without parts and without form.
While he held that the primary elements were four —
earth, air, fire and water, yet he endeavored to find
in the multiplicity of all phenomena a single entity or
revelation of the divine essence. The individual had
no permanence or no being by itself. God was the
All. And yet, since he found hiraself unable to attain
to any knowledge of God except through the knowl
edge of the individual and of individual phenomena,
he confessed his ultimate ignorance and doubt. Thus
the pantheistic theory of the Eleatic school became in
volved in a dualistic difficulty; which, while it differed
in form from that of the Pythagoreans, was the same
in substantial meaning. It endeavored to resolve all
phenoraena into a single essence; but in order to do so
it was corapelled to deny that for any subjective hu
man presentation there was some corresponding ob
jective truth This was extreme idealism, in which
dualism resulted from the conflict between the sen
sible and the supra-sensible. With Erapedocles — a

EARLY PHILOSOPHERS. 177
later exponent of this school — this dualism was pre
sented in the terms of love and hate. The All was
held to be the result of their conflict! He began with
the combination of all things in a perfect unit}'. The
first creative power was love, but the formati-\'e power
in the world was hate. Hence delusion, instability,
error and misery. Thus the radical defect in this sys
tem is seen to be its failure to apprehend the positive
distinction between the conditional and the uncon
ditional. The result was that evil was considered as
merely phenomenal and raoral iraproveraent was re
garded as purely negative — the renunciation of a
worthless, phenomenal life.
The three men Thales, Pythagoras and Xenophanes,
whose various theories we have briefly discussed are
called by Grote'^^' " a great and eminent triad." They
were the best exponents of Greek intellect each in his
own generation. We have given this hurried sketch
of their philosophies that the reader may understand
something of the distracted state of the Greek mind — :
the best of the ancient world, in its efforts to discover
and state the truth. We have observed the earnest
ness and energy of this intellect, as it turned from one
theory to another in its sad and vain endeavor. It was
now to reject them all together and for a whole weary
century to treat serious philosophy as a grim jest, and
truth as a mere phantom of the mind. It was to re
sign itself to the miserable conclusion that it was im
possible to arrive at any certainty with regard to those
profound questions which had been so long in debate.
The herald of this period appeared in Democritus,
(15) History of Greece ; Part I, ch. xvi.

178 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
founder of the Atomistic school, born about 460 B. C.
In his theories philosophic thought experienced a most
violent reaction. He absolutely denied the supra-sen
sible and rejected the supernatural. He explained the
formation of all things by the doctrine of a fortuitous
concourse of raaterial atoras, drawn in an eternal vor
tex, blending and separating at the raere sport of chance.
He sought for no first principle, for no god, for no
morality. To the idealism of the school of Elea he op
posed an equally absolute materialism and the philoso
phy of the preceding, generation was turned upside
down.'"'' Observe now, that we have had dualism, pantheism,
idealism and materialism in order. The final result
was a hopeless confusion of thought. Between the ex
aggerated tendencies of opposing leaders the Greek
mind was painfully tossed. What theory should it
receive or should it reject all.?
The question was first answered by the appearance
of the Sophists, a word originally applied to all stud
ents, but now assigned to a specific class. The reply
of the Sophists was given in discarding serious philoso
phy altogether. At first they were mere rhetoricians
and teachers of manners, traveling from place to place,
reraaining in any locality only so long as students could
be found who had the means to employ them.'^''' Phi
losophy became in their hands a " bread-and-butter
profession." They made a sport of its loftier preten
sions. They set one philosopher against another, and in
view of their mutual contradictions declared that it
was impossible to arrive at the truth; that upon any
(16) Zeller, § 24. (17) Ritter, B. VI.

EARLY PHILOSOPHERS.

179

given question two opposite but equally plausible an
swers might be made. They therefore ridiculed such
pursuits and sought the repression of all discussion
upon abstruse subjects. Let men be taught graceful
diction and engaging demeanor; how to write, speak
and act so as to secure influence — that is all-sufficient.
Such appear to have been their principles. They aimed
solely at effect. They taught how to plead opposite
sides of the same case with equal force. They pol
ished only the outside of the cup and platter. It must
perhaps be granted that Grote, '^^' in opposition to the
majority of scholars, has cleared their school of the de
liberate attempt to confuse the intellect of Greece and
defile her moral sense; but their influence was never
theless destructive both of intellect and raorals. Hav
ing no regard for serious things and making no study
of serious subjects, they were noted for their atheism
and impiety. The results of their teachings — which
had been very widely given, was the deepest possible
unrest. Philosophy fell into discredit, and positive
despair of ever knowing the truth took possession of
the mind. It was one of the saddest periods in the
whole history of Greece. All certainty had vanished.
There was no rule of thought or of conduct, and the
only benefit which the Sophists conferred upon their
age was the development of a polished rhetoric which,
however, had neither heart, nor thought in it.'^"'
The time is now ripe for the appearing of one who
shall extricate the Greek, and with him every thinking
(18) History of Greece ; ch. lxvii.
(19) Religions Before Christ ; De Pressense, p. 104. Ancient World
and Christianity ; p. 351. See also a fine summary of this entire period
in Ritter, Book VI, ch. 5.

l8o THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
man, from this terrible " Slough of Despond " into which
the course of philosophy, and especially the destructive
work of the Sophists had plunged hira, to bring him at
least to its borders, where he ma}' be within reach of
the hand of " Help." Sorae deliverer should be at
hand, who, if it be not the Messiah himself, shall be at
least one of his forerunners. There is not only a singu
lar dearth of great thinkers, but of good men and strong
men of every class. The long struggles between the
contending states has just been brought to an end in
the close of the Peloponnesian War. Every one of
the great statesmen of Athens has passed away, and
with them every one of the great writers who belonged
to the period of Pericles. Thucydides is dead — his
exciting tale left unfinished in the raiddle of a sentence.
Euripides is dead, torn in pieces by the hounds of the
king, his royal patron, in Macedonia. Sophocles has
departed this life full of honors. And as though to
crown what would at first appear to be the dissolution
of the Greek influence with a chaplet of horrors, a ter
rible plague has been raging at Athens. But under the
raighty hand of God all this has been perraitted in order
to raake ready for one of the greatest teachers of the
heathen world. Not only has the field been cleared
for hira by the departure of the great authors whose
naraes have just been raentioned; not only has a deep
desire been created for the coraing of such as he by the
despair in which the intellect was plunged, and the
sufferings which the body has endured ; but the match
less language of Greece is now ready for his use in the
perfection to which it has been brought by the masters
of literature who preceded hira, and Attic prose, the

SOCRATES. l8l
model of all time, is cast in its final coraplete and most
expressive form. Moreover, as though to give the
moment the more distinguished providential character,
his appearance is coincident with that of the last Jewish
prophet and his death occurs at the same time, almost
in the same year, with the death of Malachi. The
formal tuition of the fetv is ended as that of the
Greek is begun. SOCRATES.(20)
With the advent of Socrates we are introduced to a
revolution in the domain of mind very similar to that
which occurred in the domain of politics when Cyrus
entered Babylon. While it was his mission to teach
men how little they knew, it was also his mission, in
opposition to the Sophists, to teach men that at least
a little might be definitely known and implicitly relied
upon. His peculiar work was to divert their attention
from the world without, and direct it to the world
within themselves. This was due to his recognition
of the discrepancy between what we call scientific and
religious truth, and his devotion to phenomena belong
ing to the latter. The substance of his philosophy is
all included in the celebrated inscription over the en
trance to the chief shrine at Delphi, which is attributed
to him, '¦'¦Knoiv thyself.''''
It is not necessary to describe his personal appear
ance nor to enter into the details of his life. He was
born of humble parentage ; his father was a sculptor of
little repute. He served an apprenticeship in his work
shop and grew to manhood before the conception of his
calling dawned upon him. He also served as a soldier
(20) On this entire section, Grote, ch. lxvii; Ritter, Vol. II.

l82 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
for a while, and did not begin to teach until the atten
tion of others had been directed to hira by his singular
habit of engaging for protracted periods in a state of
abstract reverie. As he becarae aware of his own
power and his possession of certain methods and prin
ciples which were far superior to those of the men
about hira, he began his work by siraply entering into
conversation with such persons as raet hiin, until his
fame was secured and his sayings were repeated from
mouth to inouth. From this time to the close of his
life the system was nothing; the man was everything.
Probably the best way in which to convey a correct
estimate of the quality of his doctrine is by quotations
from his own words, as reported by his disciples. The
following passages are taken from the "Apology," the
address delivered to his judges upon his trial :'^''
"Now I, citizens, do perhaps differ from most men in this
respect: that if I might claim to be wiser than any one else,
it would be in this, that not knowing much ahout the things of
the world below I am convinced that I do not know. But that
it is wicked and shameful to do wrong and to disobey any one,
whether god or man, who is better than yourself, this I do
know. From fear, then, of those evils which I know to be
evils, I would neither fear nor flee that which, for aught I know,
may be a good; so that, if you were now to acquit me on con
dition that I no longer spend my time in the search and pursuit
of wisdom, I should say to you, 'Athenians, I love and cherish
you, but I shall obey the gods rather than you;' and as long as
I draw breath and have the strength I shall never cease to fol
low philosophy and to exhort and persuade any one of you
whom I happen to meet, saying, as is my wont, ' How is it,
friend, that you, an Athenian, of the city greatest and of most
repute for wisdom and power, are not ashamed to be taking
(31) The quotations are taken from the excellent little hand-book,
" Socrates,'' published by Scribners.

SOCRATES.

183

thought for glory and honor and for your position, that they
may become as great as possible, while you take neither thought
nor heed for w^isdom and truth and for your soul that it may
become as good as possible ?' " (23)
"And now let us reason in this way and we shall see what
great hope there is that death is a good, for death must be one
of two things: either he who is dead becomes as naught and
has no consciousness of anything, or else, as men say, there is a
certain change and a removal of the soul from this place to some
other. Now, if there be no consciousness, and death be like a
sleep in which the sleeper has no dreams, then it were a won
derful gain indeed ; for I think that if any one were called upon
to single out that night in which he had slept so soundly as to
have had no dreams at all, and set against it all the other nights
and days of his life, to declare after due thought how many had
been better and sweeter than that one, I think, I say, that even
the great king (^3) himself, not to speak of any private person,
would find these so few in number that they might easily be
counted in comparison with all the other days and nights of his
life. If death, therefore, be such as this, I call it a gain; for all
eternity would thus appear no longer that? a single night. But
if, on the other hand, death be a transition to another pkce, and
if it be true, as has been said, that all who have died are there,
what, O judges, could be a greater good than this ? For, if a
man, being set free from those who call themselves judges here,
is to find, on arriving in Hades, those true judges who are said
to administer justice in the unseen world, is transition thither to
be for the worse.'' What would not any one of you give to con
verse w^ith Orpheus and Musaeus and Hesiod and Homer? I,
at least, would gladly die many times if this be true. * * *
What, O judges, w^ould a man not give to meet him who led
the great army against Troy, or Ulysses, or Sisiphus, or the
thousand others, both men and women, whom one might men
tion. * * * But you, too, O judges, it behooves to be of
good hope about death, and to believe that this, at least, is true:
There can no evil befall a good man, whether he be alive or
dead, nor are his affairs uncared for by the gods. Neither has
this thing happened to me by chance, for I am persuaded that
{^) Apology; 29.
(23) The King of Persia.

184 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
to die now and be released from worldly affairs is best for me,
and this is why the sign (24) did not turn me back. Wherefore I
bear no malice at all against tny accusers or against those who
have condemned me. * * * But now it is time for us to go
away, I to die, you to live. Which of us is going to the better
fate is unknown to all save God." (^5)
The following quotations are frora the Phaedo, the
report by Plato of his last conversation on the day be
fore his death:
" This is why I do not grieve as might be expected, but am of
good hope that there is something in store for us after death,
something as has been said of old, far better for the good than
for the wicked." " What is death but the separation of the
soul from the body, for is not dying to have the soul and the
body released one from the other so that each exists by itself?
Is death anything else than this?" "It is well nigh time
that I should think of the bath, for it seems better for me
to bathe before drinking the poison, and not give the women the
trouble of washing my body."
Crito asked hira how he wished to be buried and he
answered :
"Just as you please, if you only get hold of me and don't let
me escape you." " I cannot persuade Crito," he said to his
friends, " that this Socrates who is now talking with you is my
very self. His mind is full of the thought that I am he who he
is to see in a little while as a corpse, and so he asks how he shall
bury me. Thus, that long argument of mine, the object of
which was to show that after I have drank the poison I shall be
among you no longer, but shall go away to certain joys pre
pared for the blessed, seems to him but idle talk, uttered only to
keep up your spirits as well as my own."
After he had bathed, his children were brought to
hira, and the woraen of his household. After talking
with thera and giving his last instructions he bade them
(34) He refers to his inward " divinity."
(35) Apology ; 40-42.

SOCRATES. 185
depart, and continued his conversation with his friends
until the approach of sunset. At this time the execu
tioner arrived and said to hira:
" I shall not have to reproach you, O Socrates, as I have
others, with being enraged and cursing me when I announced
to them by order of the magistrates, that they must drink the
poison ; but during this time of your imprisonment I have learned
to know you as the noblest and gentlest and best man of all that
have come here; and so I am sure that you will not be angry
with me now, that you know the real authors of this and will
blame Ihem alone, and now that you know what it is that I have
come to announce, farewell, and try to bear as best you may the
inevitable." Upon this he burst into tears and went away.
Socrates looking after him said:
" May it fare v^ell with you also. We will do what you have
bidden." Turning to his companions he added:
"How courteous the man is. The whole time I have been
here he has been constantly coming to see me and has frequently
talked with me and shown himself to be the kindest of men.
But come, Crito, we must obey hira. Let the poison be brought,
if it is already mixed. If not, let the man mix it."
The author narrates that when the cup was handed
to Socrates he put it to his lips and " right easily and
bhthely drank it off." His companions were in tears
and some of them wept aloud — not for him, as Plato
assures us, but for their own fate in being deprived of
such a friend. Socrates unbraided them, sa}ing:
"What are you doing, you strange people? Why, my chief
reason for sending away the women was that we might be spared
such discordance as this; for I have he.ird that a man ought to
die in solemn stillness. So pray be composed and restrain your
selves." He walked about for a time until his limbs were

1 86 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
paralyzed, then cast himself upon the couch and said
that in a few raoraents the poison would reach his
heart as he was already cold up to his waist. Then
uncovering his face he said:
" Crito, we owe a cock to ^Esculapius. Pay the debt and
don't neglect it."
Crito attempted to answer him, but Socrates had
passed beyond the reach of hearing. He had gone
where neither companions nor judges would be able
to find hira. " Such was the end," says Plato, " of our
friend; the raan whom we may well call of all raen
known to us of our day the best, and besides the wisest
and the most just."
THE INFLUENCE OF HIS PHILOSOPHY.
It is apparent from the quotations which have been
given that the great work of Socrates was in directing
the attention of men to the knowledge of theraselves
and the care of their imraortal part. He sought to
persuade thera to cultivate such a character as should
insure the corapany of the good and true in another
world, if indeed there was another world. He seems
to have been wholly occupied with this attention to
the soul. He turned away from the study of material
nature. Pie had no time for such inquiries. What
was honorable, what was just, what was wise, what
was courageous, what was good for an individual, a
state, a nation — these were his questions. His teach
ing was a stead}' protest up to his very death against
the state of thought which had been introduced by the
philosophers who immediately preceded him. Their
falsehoods and sophistries had destroyed all certainty

TIIE INFLUENCE OF HIS PHILOSOPHY. 187
with regard to truth and goodness, and involved the
moral law in the sarae doubt and confusion as scientific
truth. Socrates sought to re-establish the certainty of
both, and that by joining thera together. According
to him virtue and knowledge were identical. " There
is," he says, "but one good, knowledge; and but one
evil, ignorance." Pie would not allow any speculation
to interfere with moral obligation, and this led hirn to
identify virtue with knowledge. There was no dis
tinction in principle between the good and the true.
There were not two laws, one for the raind and one
for the wih, but only one law. While the Sophists
had raised the will of the individual to the dignity of
a law, Socrates sought to bring this subjective law into
subordination to the objective law of existence. He
saved philosophy frorn being a merely intellectual pur
suit by attaching it to the issues of life.'"^' Such phil
osophy was essentially rehgious. What Cicero de
clares in a frequently quoted passage, that " Socrates
drew philosophy frora heaven to earth," perfectly
characterizes his work; for Socrates was the first to
lead philosophy out of the path of hypothetical specu
lation and to raake it descend frora the mystic heaven
of the philosophers who preceded him, to enter into
raan and to give to hira a raind and a conscience; in
short, to enable him to "know himself."
The influence of Socrates may be summed up under
the four following heads:
ist. He taught his follo-ivers a beco-ming reverence
in view qf the dignity of the hit man soul, the power of
the Supreme Being and the possibility of an eternal
(26) See De Pressense's Ancient Wcrl.l and Christianity, pp. 356-364.

l88 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
existence. He would have no trifling with life or with
the questions that pertained to it. He was in the most
serious earnest, listening for some voice which he felt
sure would be heard sorae day ; looking and waiting
for some great teacher whom he felt sure would some
day appear. He himself followed the admonitions of
what he believed to be a divinity within him, which
he was never able to describe, but which he claimed
iraplicitly to obey. He declared that he submitted
hiraself to trial, bore the reproaches of his eneraies, and
would endure cheerfully the sentence of his judges, be
cause he had been urged to do so by this divinity, and
was not willing to offer any atterapt at resistance. He
counseled absolute obedience to the w^ill of the divine
upon the part of others. He looked with conterapt
upon all arts of human prudence, simply because he
believed that the divine was leading. He prayed that
the gods would give him those things which the gods
themselves believed to be good for him. No wonder
that a man with such revolutionary views as these
should have been condemed for what we call in raod
ern days "heresy." It is not surprising that they
charged hira with corrupting their youth, if to teach
such views as his coteraporaries were absolutely un
able to understand was a species of corruption. But
meanwhile, as has often been the case, we, standing in
the clearer light, look back upon him ancl discern in
him one immeasurably more reverent than those who
conderaned hira. He stands at the beginning of an
age when, even araong the heathen, there were to be
found certain " devout persons " who in their earnest
struggle after the light and their solemn deterraination

THE INFLUENCE OF HIS PHILOSOPHY. 189
to keep themselves pure should feel after and at last
find him who " is not far from every one of us."
2d. He administered a decided check to the ancient
polytheism. It is true he was not able fully to break
with its superstitions, and he was not wholly free frora
dualism and some other evil forms of the old philos
ophy. He seeras still to believe in "gods many and
lords many," yet with him the plurality of gods seeras
to end in unity, and in the "Memorabilia" he distin
guishes the Creator of the world frora other gods, and
conceives of him as the soul of the universe after the
analogy of the body and raind of raan.'*^' The gods
were but manifestations of the one absolute sfood,
which he called, for sake of convenience and because
the name was familiar to his fellows, '¦'¦Zeus.^'' In this
way he escaped a challenge to the popular faith. Yet,
from the very uncertainty of his own mind, his posi
tion with regard to such matters cannot be accurately
determined. His teachings, however, certainly carried
his disciples far beyond the popular superstitions. If
we endeavor to place ourselves in the position which
he occupied in the midst of a careless, thoughtless,
godless age, we shall recognize in him one who with
the raost earnest spirit was still tossed between the
horns of a dilemraa unable to extricate hiraself, yet
one in whom a mighty stride was made in the thought
of the heathen world toward the acknowledgment of
that "Unknown God" who was afterwards proc'airaed
in the sarae city wherein he had taught. Towards
that Unknown God he set the huraan intellect in mo
tion. This is all proved by the simple testimony of
(3T) Zeller, §33.

190 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
Xenophon, who says: "Socrates, by his moral in
quiries, was the first to instruct his disciples in the
true nature of the gods" — by which he doubtless
meant the Divine Power which rules the world. '-^'
3d. He inculcated a distinct hope of immortality .
His tone was not absolutely confident, yet his argu
ments were such as to silence forever the disciples of
nihilism, while his resignation in the approach of death
coraforted and confirmed his own. Sorae have thought
that the last direction which he gave to his followers
to sacrifice a cock to the god of heahng implied some
thing much deeper than appeared upon the surface,
— that it was not intended to be a recognition of
the divinity of Esculapius; but that it implied an ex
pectation of spiritual health reserved for him beyond
the grave — a health never to be broken by sickness
nor by death.
It must be confessed with regard to this doctrine
of immortality that the philosophy of Socrates was a
tremendous "ZF," but even so that "If" was a blessed
one. It expressed hopeful inquiry rather than de
spairing doubt. It represented not the departure from
faith, but the approach thereto. It was the twilight
not of the setting, but of the rising sun. As a prep
aration for the promulgation of that " blessed hope "
its value can not be overestimated.
4th. He gave supreme importance and a supreme
place to the human conscience. We might almost call
him the "Discoverer of the conscience." He taught
that a man raust raanifest an imraovable fidelity to his
convictions, and he himself set the example to his dis-
(,28) See Ritter; Book VII, ch. 2.

THE INFLUENCE OF HIS PHILOSOPHY.

191

ciples. Upon the other hand he probed the conceited
and shallow and led them to expose themselves, and
thus brought about that self-judgment which was
necessary in order to prepare men for the statements
of the gospel and to show them their need of a Saviour.
'' The wise question," said Socrates, " is half of knowl
edge. A life without cross-examination is no life at
all." It thus appears that the great vocation to which
Socrates was called was to make the world feel an
anxiety for something which had not as yet been sup
plied, by developing aspirations and emphasizing needs
which heathenism, even in its best forms, was unable
to satisfy. He read the law which St. Paul declares
was " written upon the heart." His doctrine filled a
place analagous to that of the Mosaic law, though
vastly ioferior to it. It had the same relation to his
people which the doctrine of Moses had to his. It was
a " School-master to bring them to Christ."
During his last days he spoke to his disciples of one
for whose coming he had long looked and whom he called
" The Charmer." Founded upon this incident Mrs.
Stowe has written the following beautiful poem ;
We need some Charmer, for our hearts are sore
With longings for the things that may not be —
Faint for the friends that shall return no more.
Dark with distrust, or wrung with agony.
What is this life? And what to us is death?
Whence came we? Whither go? And where are those
Who in a moment, stricken from our side,
Passed to that land of shadow and repose?
Are they all dust? And dust must we become?
Or are they living in some unknown clime?

192 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
Shall we regain them in that far-off home.
And live anew beyond the waves of time?
Oh man divine! on thee our souls have hung;
Thou wert our teacher in these questions high;
But ah ! this day divides thee from our side.
And veils in dust thy kindly guiding eye."
So spake the youth of Athens, weeping round.
When Socrates lay calmly down to die —
So spake the sage, prophetic of the hour.
When earth's fair Morning Star should rise on high.
They found him not, those youths of soul divine —
Long seeking, wandering, watching on life's shore;
Reasoning, aspiring, yearning for the light.
Death came and found them — doubting as before.
But years passed on, and lo! the Charmer came;
Pure, silent, sweet as comes the silver dew;
And the world knew him not — he walked alone
Encircled only by his trusting few.
Like the Athenian sage — rejected, scorned.
Betrayed, condemned, his day of doom drew nigh;
He drew his faithful few more closely round.
And told them that his hour was come to die.
'¦'¦Let not your heart be troubled^'' then he said;
"My Father's house has mansions large and fair;
I go before you to prepare your place;
I will return to take you with me there."
And since that hour the awful foe is charmed,
And life and death are glorified and fair;
Whither he went we know — the way we know,
And with firm step press on to meet him there.
THE SUCCESSORS OF SOCRATES.— PLATO.
The mission of Socrates did not end with his death.
He committed his doctrines to certain disciples in whom
it was to take on a systematic form. In passing to

THE SUCCESSORS OF SOCRATES. 1 93
Plato, therefore, we do not leave Socrates. In very
inuch that the former has written it is impossible to
draw the line between the teaching of the master and
the opinions of his more speculative disciple. There is
thus an elevated tone in the system of Plato, so that
turn ¦where we will in his imraortal productions, we
find ourselves in the lofty regions of the spiritual alti
tudes, and breathe their bracing atmosphere. The
philosophy of Plato was a school in which not only many
heathen were led towards the fold of the Gospel, but
also not a few who were born and reared under Chris
tian influences. No work of any heathen writer has
been so much admired as his " Republic," and the des
cription of " the just man " which he gives, is the
most reraarkable of all uninspired description of char
acter. He says, " This raust be our notion of the just
' man, that even when he is in poverty or sickness or
any other seeming raisfortune, all things will in the end
work together for good to hira in life and death, for
the gods have a care of any one whose desire is to be
come just and to be god-like, as far as man can attain
his likeness by the pursuit of virtue. "'^^' Again, " No
man but an utter fool and coward is afraid of death
itself; but he is afraid of doing wrong, for to go to the
world below having a soul which is like a vessel full
of injustice is the last and worst of ah evils." Again,
" The next best thing to a man being just, is that he
should become just and be chastised and punished."'^"'
But it is true of Plato as it was of Socrates that he
only approached but never reached the religious con-
(29) Republic, %61-i.
(30) See Ancient World and Christianity, 368. Beginnings of Christi
anity, p. 147.

194 '^''^^ GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
ceptions either of the Old Testament or of the New.
The god of Plato never attains to true being. He is
at once universal and impersonal. Although when he
enters into relation with man he seems to act as if he
were endowed with personalit}', yet he is only a sub
lime idea — absolute reason and goodness, and never
enters into actual comraunication with men.'^^' Indeed
the conception of Plato presents a sad blemish in its
persistent dualism. God is represented as eternally
bound to undisciplined matter, which he did not pro
duce and which he cannot destroy. There results a
diversity, an incoherence in the universe, which is never
subdued. Evil underlies the fairest creation, and wher
ever good abounds, evil the more multiplies. His
whole system, taking character frora this formative
idea, was faulty and misleading. His notion of sin was
that our actual condition is only one of decadence,
natural not moral. It was the result of the conditions
of our life in which there was an admixture of the con
tingent and material element. It was the necessity
iraposed upon it by our existence as finite beings.
Therefore, while Plato seeras to feel the need of a
rederaption, his conception of its nature is radically
defective. He knows of no moral redemption, but only
of one wherein the soul is purified from the pollution
which is supposed to be connected with its material
surroundings. The redemption is therefore intellect
ual rather than spiritual. The following language is
his own illustration of his teaching:
" Behold human beings living in an underground den, which
has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the
(31) Ritter, B. viii, ch. 3.

THE SUCCESSORS OF SOCRATES.

'95

den. They have been here from their childhood and have their
legs and their necks chained so that they cannot move and can
only see before them, but the chains are arranged in such a
manner as to prevent them from turning their heads. Above
and behind them the light of a fire is- blazing at a distance.
They see only their own shadows or the shadows of one another
which the fire throws on the opposite side of the wall."
The escape from this condition was to be found in
the study of philosophy. '^^' Plato attempted to demon
strate that the philosopher might be brought at last
to the place where he could realize the good as well
as admire it.
While, therefore, this philosophy was sadly, pitiably
unsatisfactory, it gathered up the noblest elements in
the thought of those that had preceded it to purify and
harmonize them. Plato in formulizing his system car
ried on and completed the work of Socrates. The
voice of conscience still reverberated in the human
heart, and while Greece would not listen to Socrates
it learned to listen to Plato. For while his revolution
was austere in thought it was conveyed in language so
beautiful that a nation of artists like the Greeks were
diverted by the beauty of its form to listen to the teach
ing- of its substance. Socrates had cut the tables of the
law in granite. Plato inscribed them upon the purest
of white marble, carved them in the most artistic let
ters, and caught thereby the gaze of the world.
ARISTOTLE.
Plato was succeeded in turn by Aristotle. His pecu
liar work was still further to elaborate the method of
philosophy and to originate its nomenclature. While
(33) Zeller, § 47. Republic, 514.

196 THE GREAT INTELLECTUAL REVOLUTION.
he fohowed Plato in some particulars, his philosophy
was largely a departure from the doctrine of his
teacher. We shall not be able to follow him in any
analysis of his system. It is sufficient to say with re
gard to hira, as we have found it necessary to say both
of Plato and Socrates (and as we are bound to say of
all the other great thinkers of the ancient world), that
since the Unknown God was not revealed to hira as a
personal creator he made shipwreck upon the rock of
dualism. It was impossible for any one untaught by the
Spirit of God to reconcile mind and matter, or to ex
plain the conflict between good and evil, even though
he lived in that wonderful city wherein the develop
raent of the human mind reached its highest point.
Athens herself must wait for the coming of the apostle
of him for whom her philosophers had prepared the
way, with his inspired statement: "Whom therefore
ye ignorantly worship him declare I unto you. God
that made the world and all things therein!''''
Still there had been accoraplished, under the direc
tion of divine providence, a great intellectual revolu
tion, and not Athens only, but the world, was raade
ready to receive the doctrine to the borders of which
the mind had now been brought.

Chapter VIII.
THE HELLENIZING OF THE NATIONS.
Before proceeding to the substance of the present
chapter, let us give good heed to the nature of the pe
riod which we have now reached. Through the exten
sion of the Greek colonies we have observed a language
spreading over the world, which was at once the most
flexible in form, the most beautiful in sound and the
most impressive in meaning which the world had ever
known. We must give due emphasis to the fact that
this language was not to receive a second and wider
distribution until there had been imported into it cer
tain forms of speech and certain technical words relat
ing to God, the soul and immortality, whose use had
become general and whose raeaning was therefore
familiar and which would thereby be adapted to the
purpose of Christ and the work of his Apostles.
We have therefore observed the rise of certain phil
osophers without whom the conscience of the heathen
world would have been apparently overwhelmed. We
have given some attention to the work of these great
thinkers. We have observed the course of early Greek
philosophy in its first rebellion against polytheism
and its first deflection toward the hidden truth which
was believed to lie in some monotheistic formula.
We have seen how in their groping after truth these
philosophers were arrayed one against another so that
their systems became mutually contradictory and

198 THE HELLENIZING OF THE NATIONS.
destructive. Our attention has been directed to the
rise of that philosophy which succeeded, and we have
observed that upon his death the influence of the Socra
tic systera was deeply impressed upon his age and
country. We have seen that his disciples raanifested
a reraarkable fidelity to his teachings, and that there
arose a succession of pagan prophets at whose call the
world awoke to some knowledge of its condition and
under whose teaching its moral sense was quickened.
But, so far, all this is local; and except the influence
can be in some way extended it may also be exceed
ingly short-lived. What remains, therefore, to be done
in order that the effects which have been produced
raay be indefinitely extended and that thus the way of
the coraing Lord may be the more completely prepared }
It appears to us as we review the events of that age
like the movement of a most raagnificent draraa whose
stage is the whole civilized earth, whose actors are the
raost distinguished raen that inhabit it; but whose
master-spirit is the Lord God Almighty himself. Mark
the next act.
EXIT SOCRATES; ENTER ALEXANDER!
Alexander crossed the Hellespont on his way to the
subjugation of Asia in the year 334 B C. In what
respect does this man and this date appear significant .f"
What part do they play in providential history.'^
Socrates has been dead sixty-six years. Plato, who
was teaching during the reign of Philip has been dead
fourteen years. Aristotle, the disciple of Plato and the
philosophical grand-child of Socrates has twenty-eight
years still to live. He has been the personal friend

INFLUENCE OF ALEXANDER. 199
and adviser of Alexander. The greatest metaphysi
cian of the ancient world, has been brought into very
close relations with the greatest conqueror of the an
cient word, and Alexander has arisen in the midst of
the full influence of the Socratic philosophy. This
juxtaposition of intellectual and political power means
much. The Persian erapire is to be overthrown. The
empire of ancient thought is also to be reconstructed.
The world, both political and intellectual, is to be
turned upside down; and the preparation of provi
dence for the destruction of the first, in the rise of the
Macedonian power, is cotemporaneous with the prepar
ation of providence for the revolution in the second, in
the maturity of the Socratic philosophy. All things
are ready and the day of the Lord is hastening on.
INFLUENCE OF ALEXANDER.
The course of Alexander was that of a whirlwind.
The entire period of his reign was only twelve years.
But although his career was so rapid and his conquests
so extended he executed his designs with rare fore
sight, and displayed the masterhand of the statesman
in providing for the perpetuity — not of his own per
sonal influence so much as of the influence of the peo
ple whom he represented. He claimed to be a true
Greek, and in the most important aspects of his char
acter he certainly was one.'" He was a diligent stu
dent of Homer, whose poeras he carried with hira
throughout all of his carapaigns and read as devotedly
as the average Christian his Bible. His conception of
manhood was derived frora the old Greek poems, and
(1) History of Greece ; Grote, chaps, xcii and xciv.

200 THE HELLENIZING OF THE NATIONS.
the character of Achilles furnished him with his gov
erning exaraple. In respect of intelligence and com
bining genius Alexander was Hellenic to the full,
although in his disposition and in the methods whereby
he executed his purposes he was an Oriental — violent,
impulsive and exacting to a degree which the repre
sentatives of his own race had never shown. Inherit
ing frora his father a certain vindictiveness towards his
former rivals in the confederacy of Southern Greece he
was ncA'cr disposed to treat them with favor, and they
never manifested any public interest in his victories.
Nevertheless he shared their sentiments, adopted their
principles and became their raost distinguished repre
sentative. He was the king of a country whose people
had been counted as barbarians in the early tiraes, but
the roval family to which he belonged were Greeks
frora Argos. They had theraselves introduced Greek
civilization among their own subjects, and by raeans
of the conquests of Alexander they were now to spread
it throughout the earth.
The first act of Alexander upon his arrival in Asia
was the performance of various religious rites at Ilium
(Troy), in honor of the heroes of the Trojan war. It
is indicative of the spirit of the man and prophetic of
all that was to follow. His imagination, which was
full of Homeric recollections, first prompted him to
offer a sacrifice to the hero Protesilaus, the first Greek
who touched the shore of Troy to undertake the siege
of the cit}' and who was afterwards slain by Hector.'^'
He then proceeded to the hill on which Troy was built
and sacrificed to its patron goddess Athene, depositing
(2) See Wordsworth's "Laodameia."

INFLUENCE OF ALEXANDER. 20I
in her teraple a portion of his own arraor and taking
therefrom in exchange some of the arms which were
said to have been worn by the Greek heroes in the
Trojan war. These he caused his guards to carry
with hira during his subsequent campaigns. He placed
a decorative garland upon the column of Achilles,
whom he clairaed as his ancestor, declaring that he
envied the lot of the great hero who had been blessed
during his life with a faithful friend and after his death
¦with a great poet to celebrate his exploits. Finally he
erected perraanent altars to Zeus, Athene and Her
cules, both on the point of Europe where his array had
embarked and on that of Asia where it had landed.
Such, then, appears to be the Greek spirit and charac
ter of the man as he enters upon the most important
expedition which a European had ever undertaken in
Asia and the one raost fruitful in results.
In his progress through Asia Minor he was raet b}'
the citizens of the old Greek colonies who hailed his
approach as that of a deliverer, since he restored to
thera their hberties. After the defeat of the Persian
king at the battle of Issus in Cilicia he passed on to
Egypt and founded the city of Alexandria, the raost
meraorable act in its consequences of his whole life.
His influence upon the Greek colonies of Africa was
the same which had appeared in the Greek colonies of
Asia Minor. Its effect was the reawakening of their
old national spirit. Thence retracing his steps he
marched through Palestine and Syria b}' way of Da
mascus, crossed the Euphrates, fought the decisive
battle of Arbela and took possession of Babylon. Soon
afterwards Persepolis and Pasargadse fell into his

202 THE HELLENIZING OF THE NATIONS.
hands. He thence pursued Darius, the Persian king,
into Parthia, where the fugitive was murdered in order
that he might not fall into the hands of Alexander.
He then marched east and south through Persia,
crossed the Oxus, marched through Sogdiana into
Bactriana, moved down the Indus, subduing the tribes
whom he met as far as the river Hyphasis. Here the
Macedonian troops refused to go farther, and Alexan
der turned back and moved down the Indus to the sea.
Thence he returned through Susa to Babylon, where
he died 323 B. C.
The influences of Greek civilization were extended
by Alexander throughout the countries which he sub
dued. On his march through Syria, Mesopotaraia and
Persia, he left behind him, as the monuments of his
personal influence, according to Plutarch, a cordon of
seventy cities which he had either founded or in part
colonized.'^' Some of them were doubtless raere mili-
tarv posts, yet they served for centuries as centers of
Greek learning.'*' He was deterrained so far as pos
sible to perpetuate a Greek race in the place of those
races which he had in a measure exterminated, or at
least a hybrid race whose controlling spirit should be
Greek. He prevailed on eighty of his Macedonian
officers to take Persian wives, and ten thousand INIace-
donian soldiers were obliged to follow their example.
But more iraportant results followed, for which he
was not personally responsible, although he had been
their chief instrumentality. The opening of the East
ern world furnished an outlet for the swarming popu-
(3) See Ency. Britt., Art. "Macedonian Empire."
(4) Grote, chap. xciv.

SUCCEEDING EFFECTS. 203
lation of Greece and her contiguous colonies. A vast
influx of emigrants followed in the wake of the con
queror. They pressed closely upon his heels, and it
was two hundred years before their numbers materi
ally declined.'^' Thus in the very lifetime of Alexan
der we observe what would have been a most remark
able mo\'ement in the hellenizing of the world, even
though no subsequent influences had contributed to
the same result. SUCCEEDING EFFECTS.
But the Greek civilization thus introduced into Asia
was not to be withdrawn. When Alexander crossed
the Hellespont it meant that the whole world was to
become a Greek-speaking people, and 300 years should
be given to them in which to learn the language and
become familiar with its use before the message of
salvation was promulgated. The whole world was
also to become infected with Greek ideas, to be in a
word hellenized. We can, therefore, scarcely estimate
the vast results of the conquests of Alexander. The
East and West, heretofore so widely separated, were
brought together. The tribes of two great continents,
yes, of three, were embraced under one government.
The very Euphrates becarae a Greek river, and in the
hitherto disordered but now regulated raeshes of Greek
civilization the whole world was enclosed as fish in a
great net.
The coming of the Greek in power had exerted a
mighty influence in overturning the superstitious s}'s-
tems of the age. The Greek was a freeraan and his
(5) History of the Roinans Under the Empire ; Merivale, ch, xxix.

204 THE HELLENIZING OF THE NATIONS.
freedom was characterized by an intellectual breadth
of which the East had never dreamed. Pie had no
systems of caste, no close priesthood, no sacred books,
nor other such institutions as had long enslaved the
mmds of his eastern subjects. His coming, therefore,
infused that self-respect and awakened those aspira
tions without which there never can be any progress.
The human intellect under his leadership became
everywhere a thing of life, capable of growth and de
velopment. He taught the world to think.
But the conquests of Alexander were not without
their influence upon the Greeks themselves. Hitherto
it must be remembered that while Greece had pro
duced many distinguished warriors she had produced
no great conqueror. The Greeks had been colonists
from the beginning, but wherever they had gone they
had for the most part asked the right to exist, and
were therefore dependent upon the forbearance of their
neighbors. They had not been accustomed to mingle
free]}' with the men of other races, and in consequence
despised thera, as the weak but wise always despise
the strong but ignorant. Until the time of Alexander
the distinction between Greek and barbarian was
sacredly observed even by the best of men. Socrates
himself thanked God daily that he was a raan, not a
brute; male, not feraale; Greek, not barbarian. But
the extension of Greek influence following the con
quests of Alexander, siraply because it took on a new
form wherein the Greek was both wise and strong,
broke down raany "a wall of partition." Old dis
tinctions began to disappear, and the Greek himself
became a cosm.opolite. Greek scholars began to think

DIVISION OF HIS EMPIRE— RESULTS 205
it worth their while to travel through other nations
for the study of their institutions, and thus the history
of the South and East — Egypt, Phoenicia, and Baby
lon — was written by Greek authors for Greek readers,
and the character of the people and their institutions
were made known at the centers of civilization. The
results were raost beneficent. Reciprocal sentiments
of respect were gradually promoted and the way pre
pared for the introduction of a gospel which revealed
a common master before whom all men were brethren.
DIVISION OF HIS EMPIRE.— RESULTS.
The prophet Daniel, as we shall observe more par
ticularly in the next chapter, had foreseen the division
of Alexander's empire in the vision which was af
forded him in Babylon. '**' The third beast which he
saw coming out of the sea had four wings upon its
back and was provided with four heads. A glance at
any historical atlas is sufficient to exhibit the reraark
able fulfillment of this vision in history. Here is Lab-
berton, for example, in whose map we at once perceive
the four great portions to have been Macedonia, Thrace,
Syria, and Egypt; and although there were at the first
three other minor states, they were so insignificant
that Labberton does not give to any of them a dis
tinctive color. They had no power; they exercised
no political influence. The divisions of Alexander's
kingdom were substantially four in number.
The providential reason for the disraemberment of
Alexander's empire is sufficiently clear. The time had
not yet arrived for the unification of the world, which
(8) Daniel, ch. vii.

2o6 THE HELLENIZING OF THE NATIONS.
must be accomplished before the coming of the Re
deemer. Another work had yet to be performed, the
work which Alexander had begun, but which was as
yet unfinished. That work could be better promoted
in the muttial and wholesorae emulation of ri^'al states
than under a single central government in which those
states were united. Had there been but a single great
empire, there would have been but a single center of
predominating influence. However large the popula
tion of other cities might have become, the capital city
would have been the one whose life and thought gave
character to the whole. But in the divisions of the
erapire several great centers existed, each one of them
a magnificent city, built by iraperial power and fur
nished with iraperial raagnificence; each a Greek city,
the center of hellenizing influences. Thus frora these
separate independent centers the work which was con
nected with the divine purpose was carried on.
As we are chiefly concerned with the extension
of the Greek influences into those countries through
which it had not before been materially felt, we shall
have nothing to say concerning Macedonia (which in
cluded Greece) and Thrace, but confine our attention
to Syria (including Mesopotamia), Egypt and the
farther West. ANTIOCH AND THE EAST.
The successors of Alexander in the kingdom of Syria
are known as the Seleucidse. They promoted the
extension of Greek influence with even greater zeal
than that which Alexander had displayed, particularly
as they had a longer time and greater leisure in which

ANTIOCH AND THE EAST.

207

to do SO. Under these kings the Greek power took
root, and the language and civilization of Greece were
planted from the shores of the .^gean to the banks of
the Indus, and from the Caspian to the River of Egypt,
to exist for nearly a thousand years and in their effects
to endure forever. In addition to the cities which had
been founded by Alexander himself others were founded
or planted with Greek influences, until the nuraber of
important Greek cities in Asia rose to more than two
hundred. Greek art was transplanted from Athens,
and although it acquired a somewhat florid tinge, yet
it was not unworthy of its descent from the schools of
Phidias and Lysippus. Attic plays were acted in all
of the chief cities. Architecture assumed a Greek forra,
though it lost to some extent its native dignity. Greek
schools were opened in all the important centers, and
fresh hellenic blood was thus poured into the many
forras of life throughout all the lands between the
Tigris and the Mediterranean Sea.
There was one city, however, which was the direct
product of Greek power and which was destined to
exercise a greater influence upon the history of the
world than any other Greek city in Asia, possibly than
any other cit}' whatsoever — Antioch upon the Orontes.
This citv was built by Seleucus I., the founder of the
Svrian monarchy. After the death of Alexander, Se
leucus having passed through various vicissitudes which
we cannot recount, gained possession of the govern
ment of Babylonia, 312 B. C, and from this year the
Syrian monarchy is reckoned. At the close of a suc
cessful war in which his rival Antigonus "was killed,
Seleucus obtained all the Asiatic territory which had

2o8 TIIE HELLENIZING OF THE NATIONS.
been conquered by the Greeks, with the exception of
Lower Syria and Western Asia Minor. After the
battle of Ipsus, which gave him possession of his terri
tory, he determined to found a capital city in North
ern Syria. There is something curiously prophetic in
the stories wliich are told concerning the building of
this city.'''' Seleucus is said to have watched the
flight of birds from the sumrait of a neighboring
mountain. An eagle took a fragment of the flesh
of his sacrifice and carried it to a point on the sea
shore where he first built the city of Seleucia. Soon
afterwards he repeated the ceremony and watched the
auguries at the city of Antigonia which his vanquished
rival Antigonus had begun and left unfinished. An
eagle again decided that this was not to be his own
capital, carrying the flesh to the hill on the south side
of the river, and there Antioch was built. For this
purpose the city of Antigonus was destroyed and its
material used in the construction of the new city.
The wisdom of the king in using this site for his capi
tal is readily recognized. It placed hirn in corarauni
cation both with the shores of Greece and with his
eastern territories, and he gave hiraself with enthusi
asra to the building and adorning of his capital. It
gre'w with great rapidity, so that in the time of Au
gustus it erabraced four cities in one, the walls being
successively extended to enclose them.'^'
The influential character of the place was established
frora the first. Seleucus by his wise and liberal admin
istration made it a raost attractive metropolis, his wis-
C) Life and Epistles of St. Paul, Conybeare and Howson, Vol. i, ch. iv.
(8) Ency. Britt., Art. '-Antioch,"

ANTIOCH AND THE EAST. 209
dora, however, being of a worldly and even abandoned
character. He laid out the grove of Daphne, distant
four miles frora the city, and erected in it a temple of
Apollo and Diana, to which deities an annual festival
was held, which was attended by all the people of the
neighborhood, and many others. In the temple of
Apollo was a colossal statue of the god, an impression
of which appears on the coins of the later king, Anti
ochus Ephiphanes. The city itself abounded in fine
buildings, was reraarkable for its streets and porticoes
which were styled " golden," with reference to the
splendor of the columns, and perhaps even to the appli
cation of gold as their means of ornamentation. The
roadways were paved with granite. A plentiful sup
ply of water for private purposes was furnished frora
¦wells and fountains, and the public baths were supplied
by aqueducts, the ruins of one of which is still standing.
After the conquest of Syria, Antioch becarae the
residence of the Roraan governors, and the importance
of the city was increased by the presence of the officials
¦who ¦were connected with the details of provincial
administration. Other luxurious Romans were also
attracted to its beautiful climate. The commerce of
the city greatly increased, its houses raultiplied, and its
gardens were extended on the north of the river. There
are many allusions to Antioch in the history of those
times as a place of singular pleasure and enjoyment.
Pompe}' enlarged the temple of Daphne and conceded
autonomy to the city. It was visited by Julius Csesar
in 47 B. C, who was regarded as its benefactor be
cause he allowed the town to retain its freedom. He
also added several public works of iraportance. The

2IO THE HELLENIZING OF THE NATIONS.
emperor Augustus was particularly favorable towards
the place because it had espoused his cause in his strug
gle for the imperial power. So that in the time of
Christ this had grown to be the raost influential place
in all Asia in view of the privileges it enjoyed, the com
merce it controUed, the pleasures it afforded and its
peculiar relation to the Roraan erapire in the East. It
was populated very much as Rome itself was, with a
vast assemblage from all lands. In consequence also
of the magnificence with which the worship of Apollo
was here celebrated, and the crowd of licentious votaries
which it attracted, there was no population more aban
doned. Heathenism was here exhibited in its most
resplendent and at the same time its most depraved
form.'^' It will thus appear that in the founding of this city
of Antioch the providence of God had provided a place
in which the best culture of the Greek raight be read
ily attained by the representatives of his own revela
tion. Antioch was on the highway between the Jew
ish colonies in Asia Minor and their central sanctuary
at Jerusalera; and we learn frora the Acts of the Apos
tles that a large nuraber of Greek Jews had their per
manent dwellings there. '^''' Seleucus himself, with a view
of enlarging the population of his city at the time of its
founding, had introduced into it a nuraerous colony of
Jews, whom he had encouraged to reraain contentedly
by raising them to an equality of civil rights with the
Greeks. One of his successors, Antiochus the Great,
established two thousand Jewish families in the con
es) The reader will find a very accurate and interesting description
ol the city in all its varied life, in the fourth book of "Ben Hur."
(10) Acts xiii.

ROME AND THE WEST. 21 1
tiguous territory in Asia Minor. So that Antioch be
came a Jewish center as well as a Greek one.'^"
In this way it was providentially provided that when
the Gospel was to be promulgated to the great heathen
world by whom the Greek language was spoken An
tioch became the chief missionary center. The disci
ples were called " Christians " first in Antioch. From
thence Paul and Barnabas went forth to the Gentiles,
and to this place they returned a number of times with
their reports. Antioch subsequently became one of the
greatest Christian cities of the world. Its church num
bered raany thousand raerabers, the very lowest esti
mate of which is given as 50,000 in the time of Diocle
tian.'^^' We are thus perraitted to trace the remark
able providential connection between the partition of
the Empire of Alexander, the founding of the kingdom
of Syria, the building of Antioch, and the spread of the
Gospel. ROME AND THE WEST.
The spread of Grecian institutions throughout the
West is only indirectly connected with the conquests
of Alexander. We have already observed in the pre
ceding chapter that Greek colonies were established in
Western Europe, beginning as far back as 734 B. C,
and we have seen that the inhabitants of these colonies
persistently cherished Greek traditions. But after the
Greek power had been extensively carried throughout
the East there was a revival of the Greek spirit
throughout the whole Greek world, and all those who
boasted a Greek lineage were the more zealous in its
(11) See History of Jewish Church ; Stanley, III, 317.
(12) Conflict of Christianity -with Heathenism , Ulhorn, p. 402.

2 12 THE HELLENIZING OF THE NATIONS.
perpetuation. Greek influence was not therefore de
stroyed in the overthrow of Greek liberty and by the
calaraities which followed. On the contrary the cus
toms of Greece were diffused even the more widel}',
and we are reminded of what occurred before and after
the capture of Constantinople by the Turks. The
Greek language which had been already very gener
ally diffused throughout Italy became popular in all
circles. '^^' A knowledge of that language, which was
the general medium of intercourse for all ancient civili
zation, had long been a coraraon accomplishraent; but
now in the extension of Roraan power such knowledge
becarae necessary as well to the raerchant as to the
statesraan. All classes, therefore, gave theraselves
to its acquisition. Meanwhile even the lower classes
of the population, especially in the capital, learned to
speak Greek through their intercourse with the slaves
and freedraen who had been brought into Italy. In
this way the whole Roraan household was affected by
Greek influences. The conservative Roraan spirit
which at first resisted the introduction of Greek learn
ing was unable to subdue it. Caesar's grandfather in
veighed against the stud}' of the Greek language, but
Csesar himself resorted to Athens for instruction. Cato
was in favor of driving Greek philosophers out of Rorae,
but in the generation which succeeded, the very children
learned to speak the language of their servants and to
ape their actions. It was in vain to stem the tide of
innovation. The young men who desired cultivation
could not be prevented from acquiring the tongue of
Plato and Sophocles. They studied under Greek
>.^^) History of Rome ; Mommsen, II, ch. xix.

HELLENISM AND THE JEW. 213
rhetoricians and philosophers. Even in the theatres the
very comedies could not be understood without a knowl
edge of Greek — the language had been so much modi
fied by the introduction of Greek words. Greek be
came the language both of comraerce and of polite
intercourse, as well as of diplomacy. " Greek," says
Csesar, "is read in almost all nations." The Greek
schoolraaster went wherever the centurion led the
way — no less a conqueror in his own way than he ; and
the teachers of the Greek language settled not only in
Italy, but were found even in the distant cities of
Spain.''*' Inasmuch as the Romans placed the work of
elementary instruction, like every other work which
was performed for hire, in the hands of slaves, freed
raen or foreigners, the great bulk of the Roraan popu
lation was committed to the hands of the Greeks, and
in this ¦way the western world was hellenized.
We shall deal raore particularly with Greek influ
ence in Italy in a succeeding chapter.
HELLENISM AND THE JEW.
It is apparent that if there was any providential
meaning in the hellenizing of the nations the people
of God themselves must to a considerable extent
be brought under Greek influences. The Jew was
indeed no exception in the hellenizing of the nations.
Indeed the most striking effects of hellenisra in the
age preceding the coraing of Christ appear in that peo
ple whose system was the most venerable and whose
prejudices were the most irapregnable. These effects
are also connected with the division of the erapire of
(1*) Beginnings of Christianity ; Fisher, p. 57.

214 "^^^ HELLENIZING OF THE NATIONS.
Alexander and serve to set forth the singular provi
dence of God as it was manifested therein. As the
Syrian metropolis of Antioch, founded by one of the
successors of Alexander, is seen to have exercised a
vast influence upon the course of Christianity, so also
the new Egyptian metropolis of Alexandria, founded
by Alexander himself, exercised a corresponding in
fluence, but of a different kind. But it will be impos
sible to include the history of this influence in the pres
ent chapter; we pass therefore to the next, in which we
shall treat of hellenisra and the Jew in connection with
the metropolis of Alexandria.

Chapter IX.
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
We have already observed in a previous chapter
that following the Babylonian captivity and under the
favoring influences of the Persian empire the Jew had
been in a measure revolutionized. His character was
not, however, thereby altered except in its external
aspect. The revolution had accomplished little else
than to bring him into contact with the nations of the
¦world. It broke up his habits of seclusion and ren
dered him content to live outside the narrow bounds
of his own country. But he still continued to speak
the same language, to adhere to the same exclusive
regard for his own institutions, and to explain all
things by the only philosophy with which he was
acquainted — the tradition of his fathers. This was true
of all the Jews; there was but one class of them. We
find, however, when we open the New Testaraent that
two distinct classes are recognized. The first is known
by the ancient name, "Jews; " the second are called
"Grecians." ''' We observe, also, that these Grecians
comprise a large element, probably the majority, of
the early Christian church. We discover, upon the
first mention of them, that there is a certain amount
of friction between them and their brethren who bear
the ancient name. They are introduced to our atten-
(1) Hereafter this word will invariably be used to designate the Greek-
speaking Jews.

2l6 THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
tion in Acts vi: i, where we are told that "there arose
a murrauring of the Grecians against the Hebrews,
because their widows were neglected in the daily min
istration." They are mentioned again in chapter ix:
29, where we are told that Saul of Tarsus, when he
returned from Damascus to Jerusalem, after his con
version "disputed against the Grecians; but they went
about to slay him." In chapter xi:2o, we read that
certain believers who had come to Antioch " spake
unto the Grecians, preaching the Lord Jesus." '*^' We
should be disposed to conclude even from these simple
statements, although we were ignorant of foregoing
history, that some great providential movement had
been in progress since the close of the Old Testament,
in the course of which a people had been furnished out
of the Jewish church itself, forming a connecting link
between that church and the Gentile world. This con
clusion would be a just one. It is a mistake to sup
pose — as the uninstructed reader of the New Testa
raent is liable to do — that in the day wherein the hope
of Israel was to be extended to all nations there was
no mediator between the Jew and the Gentile. The
very reverse was the case. The mediator had been
provided, and his production is one of the raost re
raarkable illustrations of divine providence, in its con
trol of human history, which is anywhere afforded.
The Gospel was not to depend for its agencies solely
upon the Jew of Palestine, with his provincialism and
prejudice. Under the omniscient leadership of God a
fusion of races had been in progress, and there had
(2) The Revised Version says "Greeks," with "Grecians" in the
margin.

HISTORY OF THE GRECIAN. 217
been produced a new species, which intellectually
realized what some ethnologists sa}' is physically im
possible, a true hybrid. That hybrid was the Grecian.
He was a true Jew and a true Greek in the same per
son, but in him the stern and repulsive stiffness of
Judaism had been softened by the eleraents of hellenic
culture.'^' He adhered to the God of Israel and prayed
toward the temple at Jerusalem; but he spake the lan
guage of Athens and lived in the atmosphere of the
Acropolis. He was the ordained mediator of the new
era. He was personified in Paul, the Apostle to the
Gentiles. HISTORY OF THE GRECIAN.
The production of the Grecian is an integral part
of the great intellectual revolution which we have con
sidered. His history begins with Alexander; so that
Alexander becomes the herald not only of a mighty
change in the thought of the Pagan world, but also
the forerunner of a mighty change in the Jewish mind
itseh. Josephus tells us that after Alexander had passed
through Asia Minor and subjugated Tyre he made
haste to go up to. Jerusalem; that the notice of his
coming produced great confusion and fear in the Jew
ish capital, which was only allayed when Jaddua, the
high-priest, announced that God had appeared to him
in a dream, assuring him that the advent of the con
queror would not be attended by any ill. Josephus
then continues:
" When the high-priest understood that Alexander was not
far from the city he went out in procession with the priests and
(3) See Neander's Church History ; Introduction.

2l8 THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
a multitude of citizens. The procession was venerable; and the
manner of it different from that of other nations. It reached to
a place called Sapha, which place translated into Greek signifies a
'prospect'(Scopus), for thence you have a prospect both of Jerusa
lem and of the temple. And when the Phcenicians and the Chal-
dasans that followed him (Alexander) thought they should have
liberty to plunder the city and torment the high-priest to death, the
very reverse of it happened, for Alexander when he saw the multi
tude at a distance in white garments, while the priests stood near
them in fine linen, and the high-priest in purple and scarlet cloth
ing with hismitre on his head, having the golden plate whereon
the name of God was engraved, he approached by himself and
adored that name and first saluted the high-priest. The Jews
also did altogether with one voice salute Alexander and encom
pass him about, whereupon the king of Syria and the rest wei'e
surprised at what Alexander had done and supposed him disor
dered in his mind. However, Parmenio alone went up to him
and asked him how it came to pass that when all others adored
him, he should adore the high-priest of the Jews. To whom he
replied, ' I did not adore him, but that God who hath honored
him with his high-priesthood ; for I saw this very person in a
dream in this very habit when I was at Dios in Macedonia; who,
when I was considering with myself how I might obtain the
dominion of Asia, exhorted me to make no delay but boldly to
pass over the sea thither, for that he ¦would conduct my army
and give me the dominion over the Persians.' " Josephus con
tinues: "The next day Alexander called them to him and bade
them ask what favors they pleased of him, whereupon the high-
priest desired that they might enjoy the laws of their forefathers
and might pay no tribute on the seventh year. He granted all
they desired and when they entreated him that he would permit
the Jews in Babylon and Media to enjoy their own laws also,
he willingly promised to do hereafter what they desired. "(*)
The kindness which the great conqueror showed to
the jews bore fruit in the honor which they paid to his
memory. They soon began to narae their children after
him, employing his name as a substitute for the name of
i.i) Antiquities ; xi, 8.

HISTORY OF THE GRECIAN. 2I9
their own great king, Solomon. A large number of
Alexanders of Jewish fame are remembered in his
tory — some even in the Ne^w Testament itself; but what
is still more remarkable, the feminine of the name,
Alexandra, which scarcely ever occurs in Greek nomen
clature, was a common Jewish name, as it is a common
Christian one.
Frora this point, therefore, dates the hellenizing of
the Jews throughout the Macedonian empire and the
kingdoms which succeeded it. It was in the nature of
things impossible that the Jewish communities in the
West should reraain unaffected by Grecian culture and
modes of thought; and all that seeras to have been
necessary in order to render the Jew accessible to Greek
influences was a manifestation of friendship upon the part
of the great Greek conqueror. Flere then as Eders
heim beautifully says:
" While we behold old Israel groping back into the darkness
of the past, in the Judaism of the East; we behold young Israel,
in the Judaism of the West, stretching forth its hands to where
the dawn of a better day was about to break. "(6)
These Jews of the West had no local history to look
back upon nor did they form a compact body like their
brethren of the East. To thera Jerusalem was only a
syrabol not a home. They were craftsmen, traders,
merchants — settled for a time here or there. They
might combine for a while into coraraunities, but they
could not form one people. Greek influences also were
in the air, and the Jew could no more shut his raind
against thera than he could withdraw his body from
the influences of the climate in which hisiot was cast.
i^)Life of the Messiah; Vol. I, p. 17.

2 20 THE TRANSFORMATION OF TIIE JEW.
Jewish communities were of course loyal to the customs
of their fathers in all essential matters. The Grecian
Jew looked with contempt and pity upon the idola
trous rites which were practiced about him, and upon
the dissoluteness of public and private life; and yet when
he stepped outside of the little company whom he met
in his own synagogue, or withdrew himself from his
own dwelling, he found himself confronted upon every
side by Grecianism — in the forum, in the market-place,
in the shop and upon the street; in all he saw, in all
whom he met. He beheld its refinement, its elegance,
the profundity of its thought, the attractiveness of its
form. ¦ He might endeavor to resist it; but he could
not overcome it. It thus became necessary for hira
to defend hiraself. But in the very process of self-de
fence he began to enquire whether the truths of divine
revelation were all the truths that God had ever per
mitted mankind to learn; and whether there were not
' some things in the thought of those about hira worth
adopting — in forra at least, if not in substance.
At first he was disposed to resist Greek influences to
the uttermost. It was forbidden him to study Greek
philosophy or even to speak the Greek language. A
young man once asked his uncle, a learned rabbi,
whether he might not study Greek, since he had already
mastered the Law. The rabbi replied by a reference
to Joshua i: 8: " Go and search what is the hour which
is neither of the day nor of the night, and in it thou
mayst study Greek philosophy."
But the very question was prophetic of the rising
tendencies, and the subtle proof of surrounding influ
ences. As those influences encroached on the strong-

HISTORY OF THE GRECIAN. 22 1
holds of Judaism they became the more resistless.
The Greek met the Jew at his own threshold, e'^'en in
Palestine itself. Grecianism invaded the holy places
which patriarchs and prophets had sanctified by their
presence. Csesarea, Gaza, Askelon and Joppa first
became Greek cities, and there were many such be
tween Hermon and the Dead Sea.'^' In some of these
the people were corapelled to speak Greek by imperial
ordinance,''''' and it began to displace the native lan
guage. The Romans published their decrees in Greek
and Latin, never in Aramaic or Hebrew. It is a sig
nificant illustration of the state of the spoken language
in the age of Christ, that the Apostle Paul succeeding
in stilling the mob which threatened his life at Jerusa
lem by speaking to thera " in the Hebrew tongue,"
showing that he ordinarily spoke in another tongue.'^'
The providence of God thus fairly forced upon the
Jews the Greek language and some attention at least
to Greek learning. They began to speak Greek; their
children learned to read Greek authors, and their
grandchildren — some of them, actually married
Greeks, and the intellectual hybrid at last appeared.
The chasm was bridged by a single cable, where soon
should be suspended a solid highway.
In such a case as this it could not be but that the
Grecian Jews should form, in some large city of the
world, an important center, at which they should learn
to apply their studies of Greek to the interpretation
of the Scriptures, and from which the theories which
(6) See a complete list in Schurer's Jewish People in the Time of
Christ. Div. II, Vol, I. See also Merivale, xxix.
(7) Mommsen's Provinces ; Book VIII, ch. ii.
(8) Acts xxii ; 2.

22 2 THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
they had forraed in consequence should radiate
throughout the earth. What raore natural thing than
that this center should be found in the great city
which their royal benefactor had hiraself founded, and
to which was subsequentlv given his own narae.
ALEXANDRIA.
In the little fishing-town of Rhacotis the great
Macedonian, with his usual foresight, had seen the
possibility of creating a magnificent harbor such as
had hitherto been lacking along the entire eastern
shore of the Mediterranean. The low, level reef form
ing the island of Pharos, when connected by the main
land, would furnish such a shelter for ships as neither
Tyre nor Sidon had ever been able to afford. His
own railitary cloak supplied the outline of the city.
It was built in the forra of an open fan, and contained
raore area than Rorae herself. It held the second
place, indeed, in the great Roraan empire, even when
Rome had become the metropolis. Hither had been
conveyed the remains of the dead king from Chaldsea
in a golden car drawn by sixty-four mules, each
arrayed in golden hangings and golden bells, across
the deserts, over the mountains and through the val
leys of Palestine, until they were deposited in the
tomb which gave to the whole quarter of Alexandria
in which it stood the narae of " The Body." The fact
that it held the sepulcher of Alexander always con
tributed to the farae and iraportance of the city. But
its position assured its influence. Three worlds raet
in Alexandria — Europe, Asia and Africa. It was first
a commercial city; but the commerce brought others

ALEXANDRIA. 223
than merchants to its wharves, and later sovereigns
patronized the scholars who visited it.'®' It was fur
nished with magnificent libraries where the savants
assembled and taught every branch of learning. The
glory of the city increased as that of Athens declined.
The various states of Greece, tossed from the hands of
one tyrant to another under the successors of Alex
ander, attempted to regain their independence, but
were unable to do so because they could not agree in the
defense of their common cause. Divided among them
selves, turning for assistance from one ally to another,
they prepared the way for the utter destruction of the
freedom of Greece, which Rome, ere long, was to
accoraplish. A great number of Greeks were thus
induced to forsake their own country and seek an
asylum elsewhere, and Alexandria became a second
Athens and the true center of Greek civihzation.
This, then, was the place where the Jewish mind was
to corae into direct association with the raind of the
Greek. The history of the Jewish colonization of Egypt dates
back to the Babylonian captivity. Long before the
coming of Alexander, Jewish settlers were found in the
land of the Pharaohs. In the time of Jeremiah a large
number of them came into Egypt, driven thither by
their fear of the Babylonians.'^'^' A forcible deporta
tion of Jewish colonists to Egypt is said to have taken
place in the time of the Persian supremacy. But after
the founding of Alexandria the Jews — possibly in grate
ful remembrance of their royal benefactor, and inas-
(9) Mommsen's Provinces ; Book VIII, ch. xii,
(10) See The Bible and Modern Discoveries ; Harper, p. 472.

2 24 '^^^ TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
much as he had granted them exceptional privileges,
were led to the city which he had built. A large num
ber of Jewish settlers were directed to the city by the
bestowal upon thera of the rights of citizenship. The
later troubles in Palestine under the Syrian kings greatly
swelled their number, the more so as the Ptolemies,
with a single exception, favored thera. Large num
bers of them were brought in as prisoners of war by
this one — Ptolemy Lagus; while raany more came as
voluntary emigrants. A special quarter of the city
was assigned to them, in order that they raight be the
more free to observe the forms of their religion. The
Jewish population, therefore, became very numerous,
reaching in the days of the Saviour to about a million."^'
These Jews went so far in their disregard of the virtue
of strict Jewish customs as to build a temple, which
their Palestinian brethren regarded as an offensive rival
to that of Jerusalem. There is no reason to suppose
that it was so designed. The Egyptian Jews did not
renounce their allegiance to the authorities at Jerusalem,
yet they became virtually a separate community, under
their own priests, with their own separate council; and
exhibited a forcible illustration of the effect of those
foreign influences which there culminated.
It was frora these Jews of Alexandria that a most
reraarkable work was to proceed which was to find
acceptance among the Greek-speaking Jews of all
nations, and which was to prepare in a singular raanner
the way of the Lord.
(11) MommsenV Provinces ; Book VIII, ch. xii.

THE SEPTUAGINT. 225
This was the Greek translation of the Old Testa
ment, venerable not only as the oldest ^'ersion of the
Scriptures, but as that which, in the tirae of the Saviour,
held the same place which the King Jaraes version
holds in the English-speaking world. The details
connected with the origin of this work are not certainl}'
known. There is very much that is legendary con
nected with its story. It probabl}' originated in the
first place in the need of the Grecians, who were ignor
ant of the Hebrew language, of some version of the
Scriptures which they could read and understand.
There ¦were probably in use certain early Greek ver
sions of separate parts of the Pentateuch, but this was
not sufficient for their needs. There may have been,
besides, sorae curiosity on the part of students of other
races dwelling in Alexandria to know the sacred books
on which the history and religion of Israel were founded.
We rnust also take into account the literar}' tastes of
the first three Ptolemies, who were patrons of learning,
and who founded the museum of Alexandria and its
great library. It is not unlikely that these monarchs
sought to enrich their treasures with an authentic ren-
dering of the sacred books of the Jews, at least that
they encouraged such a translation. The oldest part
of the translation is the Pentateuch, whose origin is said
to be found in the friendly interposition of Ptolemy II.
Philadelphus. At his request the Jewish high-priest is
said to have delegated seventy-two men, by whose
labors the whole was finished in seventy-two da}'s.'^*^'
This is, however, a suspicious history, and we can sa}'
with certainty only that the translation was made and
(12) Schurer; Vol. Ill, 160.

226 THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
in use by the year 220 B. C, as certain authors after
that tirae raake use of it. Translations of the other
portions of the Old Testaraent soon followed until the
whole book had been given to the Greek-speaking
world. It soon becarae more popular and was more
commonly found in Jewish use than the Hebrew Scrip
tures themselves. It was the " People's Bible " to that
large Jewish world, through which Christianity was
afterwards to reach mankind. The Grecians regarded
it as inspired like the original, and were accustomed
to make their final appeal to the very words of the
Greek version. It seeras to have been read in the
synagogues — the worship probably being conducted
wholly or in part in Greek. "^' It was authoritativel}'
acknowledged even in Palestine itself, where, in con
nection with its use, it was perraitted that prayers
might be said in the Greek tongue. It finally became
to the Jewish Church, even in Palestine, but especially
in the Gentle world, what Luther's translation of the
Bible becarae to the Evangelical Church of Gerraany,
and produced a similar effect in enhghtening and liber
alizing the people. This then may be regarded as the
formative point of Grecianism, the point at which the
transformation of the Jew is distinctly accomplished.
The translation of the Sacred Scriptures into Greek
and its acceptance by the Jewish Church, meant very
much more to the world than might seem at first to
have been portended. It was virtually the extension
of the hope of Israel to the Gentiles with whora the
Jews had corae in contact. It was the expression of a
desire that the benefits of the religion contained in
(13) Edersheim's "Messiah ;" Vol. I, p. 2g.

THE SEPTUAGINT. 227
their Scriptures might be comraunicated to the Greeks,
into whose language those Scriptures were now cast;
and it was the foreshadowing of a truth — not as yet
distinctly proraulgated, that in the presence of the God
of those Scriptures there was neither Jew nor Greek.
AVe can well understand the state of the case by a
comparison with the condition of the Mohamraedan
world in our own day. The Musselman authorities
have never tolerated any translation or version of the
Koran. The faithful are obliged to read it in the
original. Their exclusiveness is thus preserved; and
whenever such a translation shall be made with the
consent of those in power, or whenever such transla
tions as have been made by others shall be accepted
by thera, the days of the reign of the false prophet will
be numbered. It was just so when the Septuagint was
made and accepted by the Jew. Judaisra had well
nigh fulfilled its raission, and the multitudes of prose
lytes who began to adopt, at least in a measure, the
faith of Jehovah were the earnest of the extension
of that faith to all mankind.
It must not be supposed, however, that these disin
tegrating influences were allowed to proceed unchal
lenged. The differences between the Palestinian Jews
and the Jews of the dispersion have been already noted.
With the rise of hellenism there arose also a reaction
against it. The leaders of Jewish thought in the East
set themselves against the tendencies of Jewish thought
in the West, and both at Babylon and at Jerusalem —
the two great centers of Eastern Judaism — the disposi
tion was strongly manifested to make a still stronger
" hedge about the law," and to preserve the distinctive

2 28 THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
character and constituency of the Jewish church in its
integrity. Thus, while from first to 'last there was no
outbreaking hostility between the Jews and the Gre
cians, except in isolated cases; there was very consid
erable friction of the sort which has been indicated.
The Jews became more and more suspicious of the
Grecians; the Grecians became more and more dis
satisfied with the narrow views and formal practices
of the Jews, and a gulf of separation soon began to
appear, which gulf was one of association and tendency,
rather than one of difference in the fundamental faith —
not unlike the frequent illustration of '¦'¦ radicaV and
" conservative.''^ The Grecians, however, having begun their work
with the preparation of the Septtiagint, were not to be
arrested in their liberal tendencies. The enjoyment of
the benefits which accrued to them frora their new
version of the Scriptures only increased the desire to
secure for theraselves larger advantages in the same
line by extending to the Gentiles a still wider knowl
edge of their history, custoras and beliefs. The
Grecian was thus committed to a work which the Jew
had never attempted, and of which the Grecian had
scarcely so much as dreamed. This work included
a labor which had not been anticipated. The Greek
could now read the Jewish Scriptures in his own
tongue and for hiraself. The}' were open to his com
ments and his criticisms. The Grecian raust be pre
pared to defend his religion frora the attack of those
who were iniraical to it, and to answer their criticisms,
even though he had no other object in view than the
satisfaction of his own mind. A large mass of litera-

OTHER GR-ECO-JEWISH LITERATURE. 229
ture, therefore, immediately succeeded the Septuagint,
the general character of which must be indicated, in
order thatwe may apprehend the significance of the
moveraent. OTHER GR^CO-JEWISH LITERATURE.
The Septuagint may be regarded as the first great
step in the raoveraent of the Jewish faith under the
direction of divine providence toward the Gentile
world. In taking this first step the Jew is definitel}'
transformed. The second great step was taken in the
literature which succeeded it. Its practical aim was
to strengthen the Grecians themselves; to give to those
who had not enjoyed the advantages of a residence in
Palestine an acquaintance with their great past, and,
in addition, to convince non-Jewish readers of the folly
of heathenism and of the futility of attacks upon the
faith of Israel.
This literature is best known through those exam
ples of it which are preserved in the Old Testaraent
Apochrypha; but there is a vast amount in addition.
It comprised in general, historical, philosophical, apol
ogetic and polemic writings. As the moveraent frora
the first had a Greek outlook, the way was soon pre
pared for an atterapted reconciliation with the Greek
philosophy — not with that later Greek philosophy
which was represented in Epicureanism (which was
too widely opposed to the teachings of the Old Tes
taraent for any Jew to so much as consider it), but
rather with the charming speculations of Platonism
and the lofty self-abnegation of Stoicism. The Gre
cians imagined that by the first they might give the

230 THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
reason for their peculiar faith, and by the second the
reason for their peculiar life. They sought to find in
the philosophy of Plato some basis for their theology,
and in the philosophy of the Stoics a foundation for its
ethics. Assuming this position, they raight pour con
terapt upon heathenism as such, while seeking a posi
tive alliance with its best and purest thought. The
result of this attempt was a curious eclecticism, in
which Platonism, Stoicism and Judaisra were both
confused and corabined. " Wisdora," of which we
hear so rauch in this Grseco-Jewish literature, and
which is often presented in such a concrete forra
as to be exalted almost into a person, is sometiraes
described in the language of Stoicism, sometiraes in
that of Platonisra — as " the birth of the power of God,"
or as " a pure influence flowing frora the glory of the
Almighty."'^*' The virtues of Judaism are likewise
described in similar language, borro'wed frora Greek
philosophy, as also the theories concerning the pre-
existence of the soul. Such views, in their more pro
found aspects, were but the expression of the need of
some revelation from on high which should be an
advance even upon those of the most orthodox Jew
himself. Eastern Judaisra could not persuade itself to look
with favor upon such seeraing compromises. At the
best they were only tolerated. Sorae of these works
were permitted to the Rabbis which were withdrawn
from coraraon use. While at first they were not
regarded as heretical, and while some of the teachers
of Israel made use of them and even quoted thera in
(U) Edersheim's Messiah ; I, 32.

OTIIER GRSECO-JEWISH LITERATURE. 231
their own writings, they were carefully distinguished
from the canonical Scriptures and from the works of
the fathers. After a tirae, however, the Jews of the
East, perceiving the drift of the Grseco-Jewish move
ment, forbade the use of the ¦works which it had pro
duced, and degraded them to the same level as the
" outside books " which Jews were not allowed to read
or even to consult. This tardy condemnation, how
ever, was too late to be effective. The influence of
the moverhent was already felt. The books were all
the raore eagerly read, not only because it was sup
posed that they glorified Judaisra araong the Gentiles,
but because they were advertised as doubtful reading
which raight afford a knowledge of that forbidden
Greek world into which even the unlettered Jews of
Palestine were anxious to penetrate.
The leaders among the Grecians being thus made
aware of their increased influence began the endeavor
not only to combine their theological views with Greek
philosophy but even to connect that philosoph}' with
their very Scriptures. In order to do this it was neces
sary to find underneath the letter of Scripture sorae
meaning which would accord with the teachings of
the Greek philosophers. The method was at hand.
The Greeks, in the studies of their own ancient writ
ings, particularly the poems of Homer, had ingeni
ously formulated a theory, in accordance with which
the letter contained an allegorical meaning, for whose
sake it was written and which expressed its deepest
truth.'^^' Thus, in the Odyssey, the hero represents a
man tossed upon the sea of life, driven hither and
O^') Hibbert Lectures ; 1888, III.

232 THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
thither by the storras of adverse fortune; the Loto-
phagi are the evil powers of appetite and passion by
which sorae of his corapanions are destroyed, and the
Sirens are the seductive pleasures against which one
must fortify himself by filling his raind with divine
thoughts, as Ulysses filled his ears with wax.
This raethod, once introduced, became most popular
and persistent. All the great writers were regarded
as writers of riddles — concealing a deeper meaning be
neath the letter of their text. " The use of s}'mbolical
speech," said a grararaarian of the Augustan age, _^' is
characteristic of the wise man," and this theory was
commonly accepted. A symbolical meaning was at
tached to names, places, ntimbers, and so on; and it
became easy for those who adopted the theory to
prove anything tlicreby, even their own peculiar phil
osophical tenets and their maxims of natural science.
The process was, still further, pleasing to the imagina
tion, and the results were satisfactory, inasmuch as
they could neither be proved nor disproved.
This allegorical raethod was therefore accepted by
the Grecians, and by raeans of it they seriously at
tempted to unfold the deeper raeaning of their holy
writings. They applied the allegorical interpretation
to the whole history of Israel, beginning with the Fall.
The brazen serpent, the manna, the garments of the
high-priest, and raany other things were obliged to
yield a meaning, which had first been conveyed into
them by their raethod and then deduced from thera.
It is true, indeed, that the Eastern Jews had aiso
applied an allegorical method to the interpretation of
Scripture; but it was entirely different in principle from

PHILO OF ALEXANDRIA. 233
that which was now undertaken by the Jews of the
West. The method of the East did not seek to import
an}' truths not otherwise discernible into the sacred
text ; but onl}' to draw out of that text certain applica
tions for the purposes of instruction and edification.
The express teaching of the Rabbis of the East was that
" Scripture does not go beyond its plain meaning."
They always insisted that one should not search a law
for its hidden reason or explanation; but that it was his
dutv simplv to obey it. But the very thing which the
Jews of the East discarded in their allegorical raethod,
the Jews of the West forraally and boldly adopted.
Having once entered upon this path there was no
such thing as standing still. The work raust continue
until it had arrived at the dignity of a system, with its
fixed principles and rules, by which the teachings of
Greek philosophy and Jewish theology should be welded
together bv some unifying principle. The perfecting of
this system was the work of a Grecian, who was born
about 20 B. C, and who enjoys the reputation of being
the greatest of all the uninspired raen whom Judaisra has
produced. This sketch would be altogether iraperfect,
and the tendency of the Grecian raoveraent scarcely
apprehended, were not a few pages devoted to the con
sideration of his peculiar work.
PHILO OF ALEXANDRIA.
We know very little of the personal history of this
remarkable man. He was descended from the house
of Aaron ; but his family seera to have entirely aban
doned the priesthood. His father was a merchant
belonging to one of the wealthiest and most influential

234 ^^^^ TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
Jewish families in Egypt. His brother was the political
head of the Jewish coraraunity in Alexandria. He was
hiraself eraployed, at least on one occasion as a repre
sentative of that coraraunity, before the court of Rorae.
HIS EDUCATION.
In the early education of Philo special attention had
been given to Greek authors. He united Greek learn
ing with Jewish enthusiasm. He possessed a very
thorough knowledge of Greek literature, and betrays in
his writings his farailiarity with rnore than sixty Greek
authors — quoting frora such sources as Homer, Hesiod,
Pindar, Solon, Plato and ^schylus. His knowledge
of Hebrew was only respectable in comparison with
his knowledge of Greek. He had very little accur
ate information with regard to the teachings of the
Eastern Jews. He was not even fluent in the Hebrew
tongue, but read his Old Testament exciusively in the
Greek translation. While, therefore, his heart leaned
towards Jerusalem, his raind was bent towards Athens.
While he remained a devoted Jew in his associations
and his protestations, the Greek philosophy is more
prominent in his writings than Jewish culture. His
diction was formed after the Greek classics, and his
phraseology shows his great indebtedness to Plato. In
his eyes the great philosophers, beginning with Plato,
were divine raen and forraed a sacred society. But he
had been taught to regard these men as something
better than pagans. They had been his teachers. He
had learned to regard them with scarcely less venera
tion than Moses, David and Isaiah. The Greek philo
sophers in his eyes were " holy," though not so holy as

PHILO'S PECULIAR WORK. 235
the teachers of Israel. To him Plato was great, though
Moses was greater. The characteristic feature of
his viewpoint is this, that his entire theory of the
world may be stated without mentioning any notions
that are distinctively Jewish. His Judaism virtually
consisted in the forraal claira that the Jewish people
were in possession of the highest religious knowledge.
Nevertheless over that Judaism Greek views had
gained the upper hand . In essential points he agrees with
them rather than with the Jewish traditions, and while
his system on the whole may be called an eclectic one,
Platonic, Stoic, and Pythagorean doctrines are the
most prominent. HIS PECULIAR WORK.
It was Philo's peculiar work, therefore, to weave
the doctrines of the Greek philosophers and the Jewish
prophets into a single web. This could only be done
by a two-fold interpretation of the Old Testament
Scriptures, the literal and the allegorical. The letter
must be sacredly retained; the history must be re
garded as authentic; the personages as real. But
Philo was not willing to become a slave to the letter,
nor to regard its plain meaning as the more important
truth. His svstem taught that the allegorical inter
pretation gave the true sense even while it might run
counter to the letter itself. Thus, the personages were
made to represent moral affections and states; histori
cal events to represent the experiences of the soul ; and
even the literal sense was wholly set aside when it
seemed to imply anything unworthy of God or con
trary to the human reason. It is evident that such a

236 THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
system as this might overcome all difficulties of every
nature, and bring about a reconciliation which could
not be affected upon any other plan.
But the system in the hands of Philo proceeded even
to a more extravagant length. Interpretations were
based even upon a play upon words, or upon the pos
sible raeaning of Hebrew words when translated into
Greek; upon peculiar modes of expression; upon the
positions of verses, paragraphs and even letters; upon
the presence or absence of certain words, and — most
remarkable of all — allegorical interpretations might
be employed as the basis of other allegorical interpre
tations. Piis theology was Jewish in so far as it
insisted upon monotheism and upon the worship of God
apart frora images ; but it was opposed only to the poly-
theisra of the popular heathen faith and not to the idea
of the divine in Greek philosophy. A single illustra
tion of his method may be given in his treatraent of a
text from Genesis xxviii: 11. "Fie took of the stones
of that place and put them for his pillows." From this
Philo teaches that the " student of virtue " shotild not
seek a " delicate and luxurious life." " The men who
spend their days in doing injuries to others and return
to their horaes at night to lie down in soft and costly
beds are not the disciples of the sacred word." Jacob
on the contrary is the exaraple of such a disciple: " he
is the archetype of a soul that disciplines itself." " But
the passage has a further meaning, which is conveyed
in syrabol. The divine place and the holy ground is
full of incorporeal Intelligences, who are imraortal souls.
It is one of these that Jacob takes and puts close to his
mind, which is, as it were, the head of the combined

PHILO'S PECULIAR WORK. 237
person, body and soul. He does so under the pretext
of going to sleep, but in reality to find repose in the
Intelligence which he has chosen, and to place all the
burden of his life upon it."
It is evident that Philo follows here the Greek
method. He says hiraself that it is the method of the
Greek mysteries. He addresses his hearers by the
narae given to those who were being initiated. He
exhorts them to be puried before they listen. Thus
Philo appears as a Greek philosopher, while still adher-
.ing to his Jewish faith.''®' It is therefore apparent that
in him and in those who became his disciples, Grecian
ism is found in a position considerably beyond the raid-
die point between the Jewish and the Gentile world.
The works of Philo are many and cannot here be
treated in detail.''^' His doctrines may be thus briefly
summarized. I. God and the World. The fundamental thought
from which Philo starts is that of the dualism of God
and the world. God alone is good and perfect. He
exists neither in space nor tirae. He has neither huraan
qualities nor affections. He is, in fact, withotit any
qualities, and without any narae, and therefore, cannot
be known by man. We can only say that he is, not
what he is. But in connection with these negative
definitions, in which almost everything seems to be
denied of God, there are also found a series of positive
assertions with regard to his nature which soraetiraes
seeraed to contradict the former ones. There is the
{^^) Hibbert Lectures : 1888, III.
(17) A full description may be found in Schurer: The Jewish People
in the Time of Christ.

238 THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
Jewish idea of creation and providence, and the Stoic
idea of God as iraraanent in the world — as that alone
which is real in it and active in it; to use his own
expression, " Hiraself one and the all." The explana
tion of this seeming contradiction consists in the effort
to reraove all liraitation and all iraperfection frora God;
and at the same time represent him as combining every
perfection, and therefore filling and comprising every
thing. All perfection in the creature is derived solely
frora hira. He is the light of the soul. His goodness
is the crown of creation. The finite on the other hand
is both iraperfect and evil. There is nothing perfect
and good except God himself.
2. Intermediate Powers. Because God is abso-
lutelv perfect he cannot enter into direct contact with
matter — it would defile him. He therefore acts upon
the world and in the world, according to Philo, through
the intervention of certain powers which establish an
intercourse between the two: "Potencies," "Words;"
potencies when viewed from the Godward side, and
words when viewed from the side of creation. These
powers were the active causes which brought disord
ered raatter into order. By means of them God acts.
Thev are his rainisters, and mediums between the infi
nite and the finite. They correspond to the angels of
the Scripture and to the dseraons of Greek philosophy.
It is not easy clearly to apprehend how they were
regarded even by Philo hiraself. They are not emana
tions frora God, but what Plato calls "archetypal ideas,"
on the raodel of which all created things were forraed.
They exist only in the divine thought, although they
seem to have the attributes of personal beings. Strange

PHILO'S PECULIAR WORK. 239
to say they are represented as being wholly in God
and }'et wholly out of God. There seems to have been
a struggle upon the part of Philo to apprehend sorae
distinction like unto that between the unapproachable
God and God manifest in the flesh.'^^'
3. " Tlie Word " or " Logos.'" The Logos of Philo
is the power or intelligence of God actively displayed.
It is the idea which comprehends all other ideas, the
power which comprises all other powers in itself, as
the sum of all that is seen and all that is felt. Viewed
in its bearings upon the teachings of the New Testa
ment this part of Philo's system is rauch the raost inter
esting of all; and yet it is just here that our difficulties
are the greatest. The views expressed by Philo are
hesitating and even contradictory. It is clear that he
does not teach a concrete personality; and yet frora
another point of view the Logos is not strictly imper
sonal. Nor is it a property of the Deity himself, but
the shadow, as it were, which the light of God casts.
The Logos is necessary to his system because the
Supreme God himself cannot enter into contact with
the finite; and the Logos raust stand between the two
and be the raediura of their mutual relation. As regards
the world, the Logos is its real being. It is also the
instrtiment through which it was created. The Logos
announces and interprets to man the mind of God, act
ing as a sort of mediator. Philo designates it not only
as the High Priest but as the "Paraclete." It is the
sun which enlightens man, the medium of divine revela
tion to his soul. It is the manna which supports his
spiritual life and brings righteousness and peace.
(18) Greek Philosophy ; Zeller, §94.

240 IHE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
But the Logos of Philo is, nevertheless, shadowy and .
unreal. As High Priest he intercedes ; but he offers no
sacrifice, least of all the sacrifice of himself. It is the
product rather of the Platonic philosophy with its doc
trine of the "soul of the world," corabined with the
Stoic idea of the Deit}' as the " active reason " of the
world. If the Stoic doctrine be stripped of its panthe
istic eleraent and the Logos be distinguished frora the
Deity himself, we have the Logos of Philo almost with
out further definition.
It should be noted at this point — though it be some
what of a digression, that attempts have been made to
trace the meaning of the term " Logos " as used in the
opening chapter of St. John's gospel, to the works of
Philo. The Apostle John indeed may have been
acquainted with his writings and with the doctrines of
his school, but there is a wide fundamental difference
between his teachings and those of the Alexandrian
philosopher. St. Augustine contrasts the Logos of Platonism with
the Logos of the Apostle John in his Confessions.''^'
He says that he read in certain Platonic books —
" In the beginning was the Word, and the Word ¦was with
God and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning
with God. All things were made by him, and without him was
not anything made that hath been made. In him was life; and
the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in dark
ness; and the darkness apprehended it not. The soul of man
bears testimony concerning the light, though it is not the light
itself. But that the Word of God — God — is the true light,
which lighteth every man coming into the world; that the world
was made by him, and the world knew him not; that he came
unto his own, and his own received him not; but that to as many
(19) Book VII; ch. ix.

PHILO'S PEi.ULIAR WORK

2\l

as received him gave he power to become the sons of God, even
to them that believe on his name — there I read not. I read in
these books also that God — the Word — was not born of flesh,
nor of blood, nor of the will of man, nor of the will of the flesh,
but of God. But that the Word became flesh and dwelt among
us I read not in them. I found in them, by diligent search, that
the Son is in the form of the Father; that he did not consider it
robbery to be equal with God, because he was his equal by nature ;
and I found this expressed in various ¦ways. But that he made
himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a serv
ant, and was made in the likeness of men; and that, being found
in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient
unto death, even the death of the cross; wherefore, God also hath
highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every
name; that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of
things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth;
and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father — these books do not contain.
That he remains unchangeably thine only begotton and co-eter
nal Son before and above all times; that souls receive from his
fullness that they may be happy — are contained in these books.
But that in due time he died for the ungodly; and that thou
didst not spare thine only Son, but didst deliver him up for us
all — are not found in them."
This quotation is quite sufficient to show the differ
ence between the New Testament Logos and that of
Philo. The Apostle John derived his term not from
Philo, but from the Old Testament and other Jewish
writings. This we cannot attempt to show at length.
It is, however, abundantly shown by the best scholar
ship.'^' These are the most important doctrines embraced in
the system of Philo. There are a few others which
may be briefly dismissed.
4. The creation ofthe world. Notwithstanding the
(20) See Christus Mediator; Elliott, Part I, ch. i.

24? THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
presence of the intermediate powers the universe can
not be traced track originally to God, because the evil
and the imperfect do not have their cause in him. It
originates frora a second principle, which is without
form and without life. It was from this second prin
ciple that God created it.
5- The human soul. Philo teaches that the entire
atmosphere is filled with souls. Those who dwell in
the higher parts become the media of God's inter
course with the world. Those who dwell in the lower
parts are attracted by the things of sense and descend
into mortal bodies. Consequently the soul of man is
nothing else than one of these divine powers, an emana
tion from the Deity, which in its original state was an
angel or a dseinon. The body being the animal part of
man is the source of all evil; the prison to which the
spirit is banished, the corpse which the soul drags about
with it.
6. Morals. Philo substantially embraces the Stoic
system of morals.'"'' He adheres to its four cardinal
virtues — teraperance, prudence, justice and fortitude.
Like the Stoics he teaches that there is only one good,
raorality; requires freedora frora all passions and the
greatest possible simplicity of life. He differs from the
Stoics, however, in this ; that while they referred man
to his own strength Philo coraraended him to the help
of God, who planted the virtues in his soul. True
morality he teaches, as Plato did, is the imitation of
the Deit}'. By falling away from God man was
entangled in this life of sense; so he must struggle up
out of it into the direct vision of God. He teaches
'-i^) Ste Hibbert Lectures ; i888, vi.

EFFECTS. 243
that this object is attainable even in this earthly life;
virtuous man is lifted above and out of himself and may
recognize the Deity. He who attains to this vision of
the divine has reached the highest degree of happiness.
There only reraains to him coraplete deliverance from
his body, that the soul may return to its original condi
tion and rise to the higher sphere in which its life is
like that of the angels again. He regarded the soul of
a little child as naked, a sort of a " clean slate " upon
which God might write what he would; but this state
was brought to an end so soon as the soul inclined in
the least degree towards evil. From that time onward
the man's state became one of unrest, misery and unsat
isfied longing. If he persisted in his sin it would termi
nate in complete spiritual insensibility. There was
therefore presented to the mind the alternative either of
resisting his passions, imitating God, and at death being
conducted into his original state of purity and associa
tion with the divine; or of yielding to his passions and
ending in a sort of annihilation, which he himself illus
trates in the fate which overtook Lot's wife.
EFFECTS.
Such, then, was the condition of Grecianism in its
final form. It is not necessary for us to point out, after
this review, the wide divergence between its doctrines
and those of the ancient Jewish Church. It must be
apparent also that while there was much in it that was
both false and foolish, it had been the means of accom
plishing that which was absolutely necessary to the
fulfillment of the promises relating to the call of the
Gentiles. It manifested at least an honest attempt at

244 '-^^^ TRANSFORMATION OF THE JEW.
reconciliation. Herein the awful chasra between heath-
enisra and Judaisra was bridged from shore to shore.
The Jew hiraself had gone out after his wandering
brother, and while he had becorae, unfortunately,
infected with raany of that brother's vagaries, he had
at least succeeded in overcoming their mutual antipa
thies. The Gentile world had been brought to the
threshold of the church, and were prepared to enter it.
It only needed the correction of the errors which were
contained in the Alexandrian system, and the diverting
of their thought from the false reconciliation of divine
affairs which it had given, to the only true explanation
which was to be found in Christianity, in order to
effect the redemption of the mind from error and of the
soul from sin.
While there is much that is false in the teachings of
Philo he certainly prepared the minds of many for the
enhghtened teachings of the New Testament. While
he struggles with his irreconcilable theories regarding
the unapproachable, and yet self-manifested God, he
prepares the way for the teaching of the New Testa
ment concerning the Father in Heaven and the Son
who reveals him. While the same inconsistency is
betrayed by hira with regard to the " Word of God,"
he affords at least a standing-place before the Gentiles
for a much greater teacher, who by inspiration shall
declare the true doctrine of the Eternal Word, who
was " in the beginning with God " and who " was
God.'"^' We must therefore find the true successor of the
Hebrew not in the Jew of Palestine but in the Jew of
(22) See Ba?npton Lectures ior 1866; Liddon, Lecture I, i.

EFFECTS.

245

the dispersion. The Jew of Palestine was occupying
himself with the attempt the more jealously to preserve
his inheritance from the profane presence of the stranger.
He would wall the faith of his fathers round about up
to heaven, and preserve it for his own benefit and for
that of his children. The Grecian, on the other hand,
would break down the wall upon every side, and admit
all who would enter to the enjoyraent of its privileges.
The Jew of Palestine looked forward to the coming of
a Messiah who should be their peculiar property, and
who would lead them in a holy warfare, wherein all
nations should be subjugated and brought under their
yoke. The Grecian yearned for the coming of a great
teacher who would lead, not only himself, but all with
whom he ¦was associated, both Jew and Gentile, to the
knowledge of the truth. The Judaisra of Palestine was
ossified in its exclusiveness, its isolation and its pride.
It was an old fig-tree withered at the roots. The Juda
ism of the dispersion was quickened into the promise
of new life by its contact with the thought of the heathen
world. It was a cutting from the old tree, growing in
new soil, putting forth fresh green leaves, and budding
for a glorious fruitage. The multitude of the disper
sion, rather than the minority of Palestine, were to
becorae the raissionaries of the world. Grecian thought
and Grecian raethods were to become the raediura
through which the kingdoms of the world were to be
embraced in the kingdora of our Lord and of his Christ.
Judaism shall be set aside; Grecianism in a meas
ure adopted. The Jew shall experience a yet greater
transforraation; and having becorae a "new creature"
shall extend the blessings of the new covenant to the
whole wide world.

THE

UNDER AUGUSTUS;
Showing the more important
GREEK AND JEWISH COLONIAL CENTRES.

Chapter X.
THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
PROPHETIC FORECAST.
While the Jews were in captivity at Babylon the
prophet Daniel had been called before Nebuchadnezzar
to interpret the dream wherein he had seen an image
whose head was of gold, whose breast and arms
were of brass, whose legs were of iron; and whose feet
were part of iron and part of clay.'^' The prophet
declared that it represented four great world-empires.
Nebuchadnezzar himself was the head of gold. After
him should arise another kingdora inferior to his own ;
following that, a third kingdom of brass, and finally a
fourth kingdom; each to bear rule over the entire earth.
These different kingdoras were respectively the Baby
lonian, the Persian, the Macedonian and the Roman;
and each was characterized in the most reraarkable
language. The various metal-s of which the image
was composed represented them in order; Babylonia,
gold; Persia, silver ; Macedonia, brass; and Rome,
iron. A similar vision was also accorded to the pro
phet Daniel himself.'^' He saw four beasts coming up
out of the sea, the first like a lion, with an eagle's wings;
the second like a bear, holding three ribs in its mouth;
the third like a leopard, with four wings upon its back
(1) Daniel, ii. (2) Daniel, vii.

248 THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
and having fotir heads; and the fourth a beast dreadful
and terrible and strong exceedingly, with great iron
teeth, which broke in pieces and staraped under its feet
those that opposed it, and which was diverse frora the
beasts which had preceded it. The same empires are
indicated in this vision of the prophet with the same
careful distinctions in regard to their character; the
lion, with the eagle's wings, denoting Babylonia; the
bear, with three ribs in its mouth, Persia; the leopard,
with its four wings, Macedonia, and the indescribable
beast, Rome. We cannot exhibit at length the appli
cation of these visions to the erapires which they
described; but we note particularly with regard to the
last one that it was diver seprom the empires which had
preceded it — a distinction which seeras to have occupied
the mind of the prophet, inasmuch as he gives it special
emphasis in its repetition. The character of this diver
sity is probably indicated in the words of Daniel in con
nection with the dream of Nebuchadnezzar: "Whereas
thou sawest iron mixed with miry clay, they shall min
gle themselves with the seed of men, but they shall not
cleave one to another, even as iron is not raixed with
clay." Daniel still further inforraed Nebuchadnezzar
that in the days of these kings the God of heaven would
set up a kingdora which should never be destroyed; as
the stone cut out of the mountain without hands had
broken in pieces the image of his dream. At the con
clusion of his own vision also it was made known to
hira that with the decline of the dorainion of the last
empire, " The kingdom and dominion and the greatness
of the kingdora under the whole heaven shall be given
to the people of the saints of the Most High whose

PROPHETIC FORECAST. 249
kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and all dominions
shall serve and obey hira."
The prophecies of Daniel had been in the course of
fulfillment since the Babylonian captivity. The em
pires of Persia and of Macedonia had passed away, and
Rome was now in possession of the world. Let us
endeavor to ascertain in what respects the empire of
Rome was diverse from the erapires which had pre
ceded it, and whether its diversity was such as to pro
mote the establishment of that spiritual kingdom which
the God of Heaven should set up.
Preceding empires have been called in coraraon with
that of Rome '¦'•universal.'''' They succeeded in exer
cising dominion over a large portion of the earth's
surface and the civilized peoples of the earth. In the
kingdoms which preceded Rome, however, subject
nations had ruled by sheer force, without any attempt
upon the part of the conqueror either to adapt his
government to their forras of life or to persuade thera
to adopt the habits of the sovereign people. They
effected, therefore, a raere agglomeration of people in
which there was no " mixture" whatsoever, not even
so rauch as might be produced in the combination of
iron ancl clay. The world was held together by the
imperious will of a single raan, by the military force
which he was able to coraraand and by the railitary
statesraanship which he had the capacity to exhibit.
Inasmuch as there ¦was no coherence between the dif
ferent parts of the empire it naturally fell to pieces so
soon as the binding force of a strong central sover
eignty was removed.
In such a state there could be no sympath}' whatso-

250 THE UNIFICATION OF TIIE WORLD.
ever between the members of different races. There
could scarcely be any intercourse. Prejudice, jealousy
and hostility would be suprerae; and instead of the
proraotion of fraternal feelings the tendenc}' would be
in an entirely opposite direction. It is plain, therefore,
that the extension of the hope of Israel to the other
nations of the world could not possibly have taken
place under an erapire of this character. If that ex
tension were to be world-wide there raust necessarily
be, in order to its proraotion, something which should
at least approach world-wide unification.
This was the chief respect in which the Roman em
pire differed from the other universal empires which
had preceded it, and the endeavor will now be made
to show how that unification was brought about.
THE EARLY HISTORY OF ROME.
The geographical position of Rome from the first
furnished the opportunity for her to becorae a great
erapire. The Mediterranean was the central sea of
the ancient world, and about it dwelt the cultivated
nations. Into the very raidst of this sea projected the
long peninsula of Italy, and in the very midst of this
peninsula — the central point of the central country of
the world — was located the predestined iraperial city.'^'
From this point the world was to be conquered and
controlled, and for this purpose the Romans were pre
pared by temperament and by the discipline of history.
They were warriors from the beginning. They ne^'er
were in love with peace; they were never fond of the
problems of thought; they were never skillful in the
(3) See Confiict of Christianity with Heathenism ; Ulhorn, p. 15.

THE EARLY HISTORY OF ROME. 25 I
arts, but from the beginning they were passionately
devoted to deeds of prowess and most sagacious in
their political methods. They possessed also from the
beginning a rare faculty of assimilation and a great
gift for organization, legislation and government. They
¦were skilled in the mechanic arts. They were natural
engineers. They knew how to raake roads and build
bridges and construct walls and castles, as well as how
to assault or defend them.
At first they were disposed to divide the world into
two classes only: friends to be protected, enemies to
be subdued. Unless there were a special league to
the contrary they believed that the only law between
them and those of another race was the law of the
stronger, which entitled them to subjugate any whom
they might plunder or enslave.'*' The tribe which
lived upon the bank of a river opposite to that upon
which the Roraans had settled, becarae their " rivals''''
— the word itself meaning simply the dwellers upon
the side of a stream.'^' In the raost loyal adherence
to this terrible principle, as expressed in the words,
" Thou shalt love thy neighbor and hate thine enemy,"
the Romans completed their initial history.
From the very beginning of their history, however,
the Romans were obliged by the force of circum
stances to curb their natural ferocity and modify the
odious distinctions which they would gladly have pre
served between theraselves and their conquered sub
jects. They were corapeUed, in order to their own
preservation, to court the alliance of aliens and to ex-
(*) History of the Romans Under the Empire ; Merivale, ch. i.
(5) Life of Christ ; Geike, ch. i.

252 THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
tend to thera a share in their own exclusive privileges.
In this wa}' the races of the Italian peninsula were con
solidated previous to the inauguration of the era of
foreign conquest, and a policy adopted whereby the
iron should be mixed with clay and the unification of
the world promoted.
In 250 B. C. the power of Rorae is rising in the sub
jugation of Italy. Then follows the long struggle with
Carthage, in which it seeras for a tirae as though an
African city might become the mistress of Italy, Eu
rope and the world. But in the year 146 B. C, at the
close of the third Punic war, Carthage is captured and
destroyed. Only a tenth part of the inhabitants are
left alive, and these are sold into slavery. The city is
set on fire and almost entirely consumed, and its terri- ¦
tory becoraes a Roman province. Although Sicily,
Sardinia, Corsica, a portion of Spain, Illyricum and
parts of Gaul had been already subjugated, }'et the
domination of Rorae really dates frora this point, in
the extinction of her only formidable rival.
Only 150 years now remain until the Messiah shall
appear; but in that century and a half Rome shall pos
sess herself of the world and accomplish the task of its
unification. With what marvelous rapidity it is done!
Macedonia is subjugated, Corinth is taken and de
stroyed, and all Greece is reduced to a Roman pro
vince within the space of twenty-five }'ears. Then
follows the era of the civil wars, the Jugerthine war
and the Italian war, during which Italy is ravaged and
desolated; but these conflicts produce this most ira
portant result — the iraperial city is constrained to
make nil Italy, with a few unimportant exceptions, the

THE EMPIRE: JULIUS CyESAR. 253
equal of herself in all Roman privileges. Then follows
a period of rapid extension under the comraand of
those great generals, Sylla, Porapey and Julius Csesar.
Sylla captured Athens 86 B. C, defeated Archelaus,
the general of Mithridates, in the great battle of Chser-
onea, and insured the Roman domination in Asia
Minor, 84 B. C. Pompey exterminated the pirates
who had raade the navigation of the Mediterranean
unsafe even for Roman vessels of war, 63 B.C. ; drove
Mithridates into Armenia and overthrew the Syrian
kingdom of the Seleucidse; entered Judsea and captured
Jerusalera, establishing in the Roraan territories of
Asia the two provinces of Pontus and Syria, and re
turned to Rorae 61 B. C.
Julius Csesar, after years devoted to literature and
oratory, undertook the conquest of Gaul when he was
forty years of age, returning in eight years to Rorae,
after the raost brilliant success, to engage in war with
Pompey. In the defeat of the latter he was elevated
to supreme power, and Rome is elevated with him.
The world is no^w at his feet, he sees no strong or
worthy resistance on the whole broad horizon. But
the extensive dominions of Rome cannot be held with
out a stronger central government. The Republic
must give way to the Empire.
THE EMPIRE: JULIUS CyESAR.
The construction of the erapire was virtually the
work of Julius Csesar. Although his reputation rests
chiefly upon his military exploits, it would yet be very
unjust to his character to conceive of him merely as a
conqueror. Indeed, its very completeness makes it

2 54 "^^^ UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
difficult to obtain a distinct grasp of his individuality.
In every relation of life he attained, apparently with
out an effort, to the highest excellence; as an orator,
a politician, a general, a raan of letters, and a states
man.'^' He entered into active life at the great crisis
in his country's history. The Romans, in consequence
of their strong national individuality, their bravery
and the unity of their purpose, had won the suprem
acy of the world, but the qualities which were able to
conquer an erapire were not able to govern it. Those
who belonged to farailies of distinction no longer emu
lated the virtues of their forefathers. The sense of
justice no longer prevented the cruelties which are apt
to be shown in connection with the exercise of power,
and Rome was in greater danger than ever before, and
in greater danger than at any time afterwards (until
the deathof the Antonines), of falling by its own weight.
Even the rights which had been granted to the Latins
and Italians could not be assured without an entire
change of governraent, as those who were in power
were sadl}' lacking in a sense of responsibility. The
riches of the world were beginning to flow into the
city, exciting the cupidity of those who enjoyed them.
The demoralization which always accompanies the
breaking up of old principles and the adjustment of
new conditions manifested itself. The statesraen of
the age were unable to understand it or to regulate it.
Violence and raisrule consequently ensued. Each po
litical victory was achieved in the blood of the van
quished, and the Senate, which had conquered the
world, was unable to defend itself. It could not exer-
'f') Merivale, ch. xxii.

THE EMPIRE: JULIUS C^SAR. 255
cise the ordinary functions of government without
temporarily intrusting to sorae citizen those autocratic
powers which might be turned against itself. There
was great danger of Rome perishing in the crisis and
leaving but a faint impress upon the nations whom she
had subdued. That the great empire did not fall be
fore some Eastern conqueror, or break up into petty
kingdoms parcelled out among her great citizens, is
due, so far as we are able to judge, to Julitis Csesar
alone. He was a totally different man from the others
which were produced by the age, and it is to his
genius and foresight, under providence, that the future
career of the iraperial city was due. He was a raan
of the most extensive mental culture, of most indomi
table purpose, and gifted, perhaps, as none whora the
world has ever seen, in intellectual resources. He
attained distinction in the forum with the sarae ease
that he won it in the field. During the long period
that he remained in Rome he gave his time and
strength to the work of reviving the democratic spirit,
and through his influence the power of the tribunes of
the people was restored and that of the Senate dirain
ished. In the raeantime Pompey had received the
command against the pirates of the Mediterranean
and the control of the Mithridatic war. He had been
invested ¦with absolute control for three years over the
whole of the Mediterranean Sea, from the Straits of
Gibraltar to the coasts of Syria, and for fifty miles in
land, and under him were twenty-five prsetors of sen
atorial rank chosen by hiraself. It appears, therefore,
that there was scarcely any of the Roraan territory
which was not instructed to obey him. Csesar still

256 THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
remained in Rome, devoting himself to law and the
improvement of the capital city. He took charge of
the public buildings, decorated the forum, built the
basilica which bore his name, and erected porticos
under the capitol for the reception of the works of
Greek art.
After a tirae Pompey returned from the east and
disbanded his array, and coincident with his discharge
of a railitary office Csesar assumed one and left for
Spain. Here he exhibited for the first tirae those qurJ-
ities which distinguished him in the larger sphere with
which his name was to be afterwards associated. On
his return he again devoted himself to law and to the
amendraent of sorae raeasures with which he was dis
satisfied; by which raeans he was enabled to suppress
the bribery and corruption which were common among
the public functionaries and even among his own sub
ordinates. These measures aroused the hostility of
the Senate and of other influential men in the state,
and they thought to get rid of him by passing a law
which gave him the provinces of Gaul for five years,
with the command of four legions. After receiving
this commission Csesar staid in the neighborhood of
the city just long enough to secure the election of his
friends as consuls, and then set out for the country
which has ever since been identified with his name.
We cannot describe in detail the marvelous work
which occupied him for the next eight years. The labor
was stupendous. He was obliged to march and coun
termarch through an unknown country, finding his own
way through woods, across mountains and over rivers;
building his own bridges, making his own maps and

THE EMPIRE: JULIUS CAESAR. 257
planning campaigns against eneraies whose nurabers and
location were very iraperfectly known. The reader is
aware of the magnificent success which he achieved. In
the year 53 B. C. he won the final victory over Vercin-
getorix, a general second only to himself among the war
riors of that age, and reduced Gaul to subjection. The
following year saw the final pacification of the country.
It never atterapted afterwards to revolt, but reraained
a contented part of the Roman Empire, loyal and even
enthusiastic. On no other subject country did Rorae
succeed in so irapressing her language, laws and civili
zation, and from no other did she draw so mainy loyal
legions. ''^
In the success which Csesar had achieved it became
evident that a collision raust soon arise between him
self and his great but raore arabitious rival Pompey.
The details of the quarrel are somewhat complicated
and cannot be here narrated. It had its root however in
the desire of the Senate to advance Pompey and humili
ate Csesar, and in Csesar's knowledge of the fact that
he could not trust himself to the power of his enemies.
Yet he displayed great moderation in the crisis. He gave
up two legions which were demanded of him, and pro
posed to the Senate that both Porapey and hiraself
should simultaneously disarm. Although the raotion
was carried in the Senate, Pompey refused to act upon
it, on the plea that Csesar was returning with his array
into Northern Italy. Csesar therefore crossed the Rubi
con 49 B. C, and the struggle for suprerae power
began. The conflict lasted for five years, during which
he crushed the armies of his enemies as he found them,
in almost every part of Europe, as well as in Asia and

258 THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
Africa, and thereby laid the foundations for his own
imperial power and that of his successors very deep
and strong. In July, 45 B. C, he entered Rome as
conqueror, and undertook to find leisure to govern the
world which he had subdued. One more struggle,
however, was necessary, before peace was finally con
cluded. The sons of Porapey had collected a large
army in Spain. Csesar was obliged to march against
them, the expedition resulting in their entire defeat.
A few months afterwards he was assassinated.
During the brief intervals which he had spent at
Rome, as well as in consequence of the infiuence which
he was able to exercise even while he was absent, he
had produced a raighty change in the character of the
Roraan government. He increased the number of the
Senate to nine hundred, thus raaking it raore thoroughly
representative of all classes and all parts of the erapire.
He increased the nuraber of civil raagistrates and
reformed the courts of justice. He gave the rights of
citizenship to raen of science and to those who professed
the liberal arts. He enforced the law without favor,
and atterapted, though with little success, to restrain '
the luxury of the age. In brief he succeeded in restor
ing to Rorae the reputation which it had forfeited, of
being just with regard to the rights of men and liberal
with regard to their needs and sentiments. His spirit
and policy were cosmopolitan.''''' While he scandahzed
the conservative Romans by filling the offices with
foreigners he succeeded thereb}' in winning not only
the allegiance, but the positive affection of those whom
he had hiraself subdued. The tendency of the imperial
(7) See Beginnings of Christiatiity ; Fisher, p. 51.

AUGUSTUS. 259
system which he inaugurated, in consequence of that
which he himself had done, was frora the beginning
towards adrainistrative uniforraity and the effacing of
the distinction between the conquerors and the con
quered, citizen and subject. It raust be clear proof
that his rule was beneficent that the provinces rejoiced
when that of the Senate was subverted and the Iraper
ial government took its place. These sentiments,
indeed, scarcely experienced any change, even during
the reign of the profligate emperors who subsequently
ruled. With Julius Csesar, therefore, Rome became
not merely the raistress of the world; but its center,
its capital. The Roraan spirit was extended through
out the provinces, their subjects became its citizens,
and at length the chief rulers of the State were taken
from those provinces and from the barbarians them
selves. A leveling influence was introduced which
produced a sense of equality among men.
AUGUSTUS.
In the death of Julius Csesar the great work to which
he had devoted his talents and his energies was left
incomplete; the empire was not yet actually established
nor the world consolidated. This was now to become
the task of his successor.
In the assassination of Csesar the senatorial party,
led by Brutus and Cassius, seemed to be triumphant;
but he had in his will naraed his grand-nephew and
adopted son, Octavius, as his heir, and he appeared at
once to challenge the murderers of his benefactor. He
was yet a youth in his nineteenth year and was study
ing in Epyrus under the rhetorician ApoUodorus; but

26o THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
SO soon as the news of his bereavement reached hira,
he hastened to Italy and claimed the inheritance which
had been bequeathed to hira. He conducted hiraself
with a prudence and moderation far beyond his years,
received the loyal support of the Csesarian veterans,
entered into an alliance with Marcus Antonius and
was speedily acknowledged as the head of the popular
party, while Brutus and Cassius fled from Italy. These
two great champions of the Senate and the Republic
were finally confronted by the two great leaders of
the people and the Empire, upon the battle-field of
Philippi, in Thrace. Here, at last, the aristocracy was
humiliated and the Republic perished, Brutus and Cas
sius both coraraitting suicide.'^'
For a tirae Octavius and Antonius divided the gov
ernraent between thera, the forraer being suprerae in
the West, the latter in the East. But final collision
and a struggle for the undivided dorainion was inevi
table. A quarrel arose between them, which culmi
nated in the battle of Actium (B. C. 31) and the death
of Antonius. Octavius returned to Rome, the mas
ter of the world.
Events were thus shaped by the guiding hand of
divine providence in order to the accoraplishraent of
the divine purpose. The world raust be brought under
a single government, and that government such as
should be adapted to the dissemination of the Gospel.
It was for this that Brutus and Cassius were permitted
to suffer defeat at Philippi and Antonius at Actium.
Had Brutus and Cassius prevailed, the unification of the
world would have been indefinitely delayed ; had Anto-
(8) See Merivale, xxiv.

AUGUSTUS. 261
nius conquered, the empire would have been an Asi
atic despotism, and Europe, in which the noblest tri
umphs of the cross were to be secured, would have
been rent and torn by barbarians, if indeed it could
have succeeded in throwing off the alien yoke. As it
was, a young man, everyway qualified to rule, was put
in possession of supreme power, and the world was
prepared for the Redeeraer.
On the return of Octavius to Rome he received the
unqualified support of all classes. The Senate decreed
to him unlimited powers, and he devoted himself to
civil affairs. The peace for which the Roman people
had sighed for generations had come at length, and
the doors of the temple of Janus which had stood upon
their rusting hinges frora tiraes immemorial were at
last closed. The erapire was now to enjoy a period of
profound tranquility, during which the Prince of Peace
hiraself was to appear, attended b}' those shining min
isters who should sing over his cradle their raessage of
"peace on earth."
In the raeantirae the organization of the empire was
corapleted. It extended frora the Atlantic to the Eu
phrates, a distance of more than three thousand miles;
and from the Danube and the English Channel to the
cataracts of the Nile. Rome was the capital of the
world, and in her eraperor, Octavius, she also had
received a " head of gold." Her subjects were secure,
prosperous, and, so far as they could be made so by
temporal benefits, happy. The unification of the world
had been accomplished.

262 THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
ROMAN LAW.
We have thus far indicated, however, only the ex
ternal history, and it remains for us to inquire con
cerning those internal influences which had served to
bring about this result. It had not been accoraplished
by the instruraentality of war alone, nor by the sole
power of its great conquerors. An intellectual dis
cipline had been in progress frora the earliest tiraes,
and especially, since the overthrow of the early Roman
kingdom, under the Republic, which had culminated
with Julius Csesar and the organization of the empire.'^'
Returning to the tirae of the foundation of the Repub
lic we find that in the expulsion of its kings Rorae was
left in the condition of a house divided against itself.
The patricians, who belonged to the royal party, and
who were still its representatives, were accustoraed to
decide every question and to use their strength and
influence in a raanner which was raost oppressive to
the people. In consequence there arose a conflict be
tween the patricians and the plebeians, which was not
to be allayed until the latter had obtained just rights
and recognition. The patricians, with whora was the
wealth as well- as the power, had enforced the most
rigorous laws against their debtors, loading them with
chains, driving thera frora their homes and entailing
great suffering upon their families. The public lands,
which had been obtained- by conquest, were taken by
the patricians for themselves for a very moderate
rental, which in raany cases was raerely nominal and
often was not paid at all. The plebeians were still
(9) An excellent resume of the subject here treated will be found in
Labberton s (New) Historical Atlas.

ROMAN LAW. 26^
further deprived of the opportunity to acquire small
holdings, or even to till those which they did not pos
sess, by eraployment of slave labor; and yet, notwith
standing the fact that their rights were denied thera,
they were obliged to bear the burden of railitary
service. At length they arose in a body, probably
returning from some victory — the details are not
known — and encamped upon the Sacred Mount, three
miles from Rome, where they declared their determi
nation of remaining in order to found another rival
city. This movement of the plebeians brought about
an agreement between themselves and the patricians,
whereby it ¦was stipulated (494 B. C.) that the former
should elect magistrates of their own, to be known as
" Tribunes of the People," who should have the right
to interpose a veto upon any legal or administrative
measure. To secure to the plebeians this new right
it was decreed that the persons of the Tribunes were
sacred, and that whosoever used violence against them
should be declared an outlaw. From this time onward
the rights of the common people were more and raore
acknowledged, until finally they stood upon equal foot
ing with all others in the councils of the State. A new
assembly, known as the Council of the Tribes (Com-
itia Tributa), was instituted, in which the plebeians
exercised legislative functions, the patricians stiU re
taining their own asserably, the Council of the Senate
(Comitia Curiata). The rivalry between the two par
ties, however, continued until the state of raatters had
become intolerable, when, in the year 460 B. C, the
tribunes of the people demanded that a comraission
should be appointed to define in writing the jurisdic-

264 THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD,
tion of the magistrates, in order that a check might
be put upon the arbitrary and oppressive administra
tion of the patricians. Within a single year the ple
beians united upon this issue, requiring that the whole
law, public and private, should be codified, that its
uncertainty raight be reraoved After a few years'
resistance the Senate gave its assent to a deraand
which it could no longer withstand. The result was
erabodied in the XII Tables, laws engraven upon
wooden tablets, at first ten only, but in the next year
extended to twelve, and formally completed 448 B. C.'""
Herein was the foundation of subsequent Roraan law.
The XII Tables were the Magna Charta of Roman
freedom. The work was so thorough!}' done that it
required little amendment during the next two centu
ries. It is worthv of note in passing that the institution of
the XII Tables is almost cotemporaneous with the
birth of Socrates and of Malachi.
The XII Tables thus becarae the basis of what is
known as Roraan Civil Law (Jus Civile). Improve
ments were raade in this law from time to time as the
power of the people increased, but it was not suffi
ciently coraprehensive to becorae the perraanent code
of Rorae, inasrauch as it conteraplated only such a con
dition of affairs as existed while Rome was still a com
paratively insignificant city in possession of a restricted
territory. After the destruction of Carthage, how
ever, the infiux of strangers into the capital began ; and
rapidly increased. First, Latins and other allies; later,
Greeks, Carthaginians and Asiatics of various tribes.
(10) Enc. Brittanica: " Roinii" La-w." Mommsen; 1,365.

ROMAN LAW. 265
It became necessary, in order to the regulation of their
affairs and the government of Rome under these new
conditions, to provide a modification of the Civil Law
inasmuch as it was applicable only to foreigners who
were members of allied States, to ¦which certain rights
had been granted b}' treaty. The vast majority of those
who settled in Rome were not, however, in this favored
position, and even those who were, soon found that the
Roman laws which applied to the acquisition of prop
erty and the discharge of contracts was too narrow
for their requirements. Hence a second body of law
was gradually developed, which is known as the "Law
of Nations" (Jus Gentium).'"' Its application for a time
seems to have been limited to transactions between
non-citizens; or to those of citizens with non-citizens;
but after a time it was also accepted in the dealings
of citizens araong theraselves, and becarae an integral
part of the Roraan law. The condi; ion of foreigners
and of the coraraon people in Rorae was happily effected
by the influence of this law. With the influx of strang
ers it was found that the administration was too oner
ous for a single magistrate, and therefore a second
prsetor was appointed. After a time the number of
prsetors was increased to four, and still later to six.
Csesar eventually raised their nuraber to sixteen. But
the ordinary adrainistration of justice within the city
was usually confined to two prsetors, who represented
the original incumbents of that office, and who came to
be distinguished as the Prsetor Urbanus, who had jur
isdiction in those cases which arose between Roman
(11) See Mommsen; I, 213.

266 THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
citizens and the Prsetor Peregrinus, who had the super
vision of all others.
In course of time, in consequence of the immense
preponderance of the foreign subjects over the native
subjects of Rome, the Law of Nations was preferred to
the Civil Law; and this in turn led to other changes in
the same direction, in which there was a struggle after
a still higher ideal, which eventuated in a new forra,
known as the Natural Law (Jus Naturale). According
to its principles, as defined by Csesar, there is a great
community of gods and of men, of which each single
country was only a portion or a constituent part, and
the Laws of Rorae should conforra to those of this great
community. The Jus Naturale was thus intended to be
a universal law, regulating the affairs of a universal
empire, and conforming to those eternal principles by
which the universe was governed — as Csesar says,
" wisely comraanding what is right, and prohibiting
what is wrong." By this principle the whole body of
Roman law was affected. It even softened the legis
lation relating to slavery and modified the relations
of master and slave. While the Civil Law studied
only the interest of citizens and the Law of Nations
those of freemen, irrespective of nationality, the Law
of Nature, theoretically at least, took in all mankind.
In this respect it was a greater advance upon the Law
of Nations than that had been upon the Civil Law. It
not only insured the rights of foreigners at Rome, but
it insured the rights of all raen everywhere, wherever
the Romans were in power; and not only their rights
but also their privileges — opening before them every
avenue of advantage and every door of preferment, so

ROMAN CITIZENSHIP. 267
that men of foreign descent might be elected to the
Senate, or even reach the throne itself. Thus was
unification proraoted. ROMAN CITIZENSHIP.
From the earliest times all the free inhabitants
of^ Rome enjoyed equal rights. These rights were
both public and private. The private rights of a
Roman citizen were the power of legal marriage in the
family of any other citizen, the power of making legal
purchases and sales and of holding property, and the
right to bequeath such property or inherit it. The
public rights were the power of voting at any time
when a citizen was allowed to vote, and eligibility to
any office. The citizen enjoyed these rights not be
cause he lived within the Roman territory, but because
he ¦was a member of the Roraan commonwealth — one
of those by whom ancl for whom its law was estab
lished. The early theory, as we have already indicated,
was that a man who sojourned within the bounds of
a foreign state was at the raercy of the latter and raight
be dealt with as a slave, and that all that belonged to
him raight be appropriated by the first comer. He
was outside the pale of the law. Without some sort
of alliance with Rome a stranger had no right, even
though he lived in the city itself, to claim any pro
tection either with regard to his person or his property.
If he received any consideration it was through the
appeal to the good offices of the raagistrate, or through
the intervention of some citizen to whom he was allied,
and not by means of any civil action of his own. But
after a time, in consequence of the additions to the body

268 THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
of the law which we have observed, the foreigner, who
was regarded originally as an enemy (hostis), came to
be regarded only as an alien (peregrinus). He was
not a citizen of Rorae, and therefore not entitled to
the rights of a citizen, nevertheless the Law of
Nations recognized hira as a freeraan entitled to pro
tection. With the extension of the Roman dominion
certain rights were also extended to the conquered
towns. Municipal cities were established, the inhabi
tants of which, while sojourning in Rome, raight exer
cise the rights of citizens; the private rights, at least,
if not the public ones. Some of them were permitted
to choose their own municipal officers. There were
also Latin colonies which consisted of communities of
Roman citizens who had settled upon lands ceded to
the capital by their inhabitants, and who there formed
the ruling class. In such colonies the citizens, while
retaining their private rights, renounced their public
ones. There were also certain cities of a favored class,
whose relation to Rome was specifically defined by
treaty. In some cases these cities appointed their own
magistrates, whereas they were generally ruled by
those who had been sent out from Rorae. Finally
there were Roman colonies distinguished from Latin
colonies in this, that they consisted of Roman citizens
who had reraoved with their families to places selected
b}' the governraent. They formed a military station.
Their government was modeled after the government
of Rome, and they retained all their rights as Roman
citizens. By means of such colonies planted in selected
places Italy was kept in subjection.
It appears, then, that even under the Republic Ro-

ROMAN CITIZENSHIP. 269
man citizenship was quite extensive. But under the
emperors, beginning with Julius Csesar, the privilege
of Roman citizenship was very widely extended. It
might be acquired by purchase, by militar}' service, b}'
favor, or by raanumission; and a right once obtained
descended to a raan's children — even though he were
not of Roraan descent. Many of the Jews who ren
dered service to Julius Csesar in the Egyptian war
were probably raade Roman citizens. Among the
privileges attached to this privileged class, in addition
to those we have mentioned, were the following very
important ones ; they could not be bound or imprisoned
without a formal trial; they raight not be scourged;
they had the right to trial before a Roraan magistrate
and they were perraitted to appeal frora a provincial
tribunal to the Emperor hiraself.
No such rights as these were given by an}' of the
great empires which had preceded Rorae to their con
quered subjects, and it is apparent that the huraane
provisions of Roman law (notwithstanding its external
severity), and the wide toleration which the adherents
of all religions and the members of all races enjo"\'ed
under its administration, and more particularly the ex
tension of the peculiar privileges which were afforded
in Roman citizenship, raust have availed to draw the
diverse peoples of the world into a closer association,
and to produce a much greater degree of unification
than had ever been exhibited in the history of the
world. It had been foreshadowed by the poet Terence
(born 195 B. C), who, anticipating the best sentiraent
of Rome as expressed in its law, had written: "Homo
sum, humani nihil a me alienura puto."

270 THE UNIFICATION OF TIIE WORLD.
ROMAN ROADS AND TRAVELERS.
This unification was still further proraoted by the
facility of intercourse which was enjoyed by the in
habitants of the empire. The Roman territory was
covered with a network of raagnificent roads. The
most celebrated of these was the Appian Way, which
was commenced by Appius Claudius 312 B. C,
who extended it from Rome to Capua. It was ulti
raately continued to Brundusiura, a total length of
about 350 railes, and was corapleted about 30 B. C.
It was the model for all the other roads subsequently
constructed. Upon a carefully prepared foundation
were placed huge blocks of hard stone which were
fitted to each other with great exactness. Its breadth
was from fourteen to eighteen feet, including the foot
paths. It is in use even at the present day, the orig
inal pavement being still traveled in a number of
places. Five such main roads went out from Rorae
to the extremities of the erapire, and these, with their
branches rtinning in whatever direction public con
venience required, were connected at the sea-ports
with the routes of raaritirae travel. Ordinarily they
raoved in straight lines, crossing raountains and bridg
ing ri^'ers, binding together the raost reraote cities and
connecting thera all with the capital. A journey might
have been made over these highways, interrupted only
h\ brief vo}-ages, from Alexandria to Carthage, thence
through Spain and France to Northern Britain, re
turning by way of Leyden, Cologne and Milan, con
tinuing eastward to Constantinople, crossing the Hel
lespont and proceeding through Asia Minor to Antioch,
and returning again to Alexandria. The traveler

ROMAN ROADS AND TRAVELERS 2'] I
would thus have gone about the whole circuraference
of the Roman empire — a journey exceeding seven
thousand miles. During the whole distance he could
measure his progress by the milestones along the
roads; he would be furnished with maps of the routes,
giving the distance from place to place; he would find
stopping-places for the night provided for him ; a sys
tem of postal conveyances used by the officers and
agents of the governraent, together with the means of
travel for the public generally. In the large cities he
could hire carriages and arrange for continuing his
journey by a raethod somewhat resembling the mod
ern post-coach. '^^'
It must also be reraembered that the traveler through
the entire course of his journey would certainl}* be
able to make himself understood in the use of one of
two languages, the Greek or the Roman. He would
find, in general, Greek spoken throughout the East, and
Latin throughout the West; although the Latin lan
guage was spoken to sorae extent where the Greek
prevailed, and vice versa. North of Italy the Gauls
had very rapidly succumbed to the influence of Roman
customs, and had adopted the Roman language. The
same effect had followed in Spain to a greater or less
degree. Latin was the language of the court and of
the carap. Roman magistrates, wherever they were,
promulgated their laws and decrees in their own
tongue, and both Roraans and Greeks were so widely
distributed and in such great numbers that one who
spoke either language, but not the other, would find
some persons in every considerable place with whom he
(13) Beginnings of Chr-istianity ; Fisher, p. 62.

272 THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
could communicate. Wherever he went, his person
and property would be secure, and particularl}' after
the accession of Augustus the universal tranqtiility of
the world would in itself be a teraptation to travel.
Merchants would be disposed to visit foreign markets
and negotiate with their distant correspondents in per
son. Their property was as secure upon the sea as
upon the land, for the pirates had been swept frora the
Mediterranean. The annexation of Egypt by Augus
tus enabled hira to establish a new road for comraerce
with the East by way of the Nile and Arabian Gulf,
and over such highways the raerchants of Rome and
of other great cities visited every land. They went
with their caravans to Ethiopia and India. They had
their ports of trade in Britain and Ireland. The lux
ury of the capital stimulated their trade, and whatever
could gratify the palate was brought from all quarters
to the markets of Rome. The sea was alive with ves
sels and the land with wagons, transporting to the im
perial city and to the other great centers of civilization
the products of every clime.
But commercial gain was not the only raotive which
impelled to travel. Journeys were undertaken through
scientific curiosity and the desire for knowledge. Each
province had its particular seat of education to which
students resorted. Rome, Alexandria, Athens, Anti
och, Corinth and Jerusalem were frequented by those
who came as students frora all parts of the world. In
some cities chairs of instruction were established by
the state, and the result somewhat resembled a modern
university. Teachers of philosophy and of rhetoric
journeyed frora city to city. Artists in marble and

ROMAN ROADS AND TRAVELERS. 273
oil led a wandering life, as they journeyed in the pur
suance of their vocations, or were summoned frora city
to city for sorae task requiring their skill. Great pub
lic festivals also drew together throngs of spectators,
and religious ceremonies of various kinds exercised an
attractive power. Visits were paid to the shrines of
heathenism; invalids undertook long journeys in the
quest of health; tourists visited different countries to
inspect historical places or gratify their curiosity. The
celebrated localities of Egypt, Palestine, Greece and
Italy possessed the same fascination over lovers of an
tiquity which similar places exercise to-day, and finally
there were places of fashionable resort where multitudes
collected at the proper season to indulge in gaiety, dis
sipation and intrigue.
But in all these great movements Rome was the
center, as no city has been, either before or since.
Everything and everybody tended towards Rome.
Whoever desired anything in art or science, or pos
sessed anything which he wish to have recognized;
whoever hoped to gain any right, or expected any
advancement, or coveted any honor, or aimed at the
acquisition of wealth, or desired for himself to see the
wonders of the world, went to Rome. In the markets
of the Imperial City the cultivated Greek met the
ignorant provincial; the merchant of Alexandria, who
had come to speculate in corn, was joined by the half-
savage African, who perhaps had come with a collec
tion of wild animals for the amphitheatre.'^^' The
Syrian, the Gaul, the Jew, the Thracian, and the repre
sentatives of many other peoples, jostled each other
(13) Conflict of Christianity with Heathenism ; Ulholm, p. 17.

274 ^^-^ UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
upon the streets. The current toward Rome had also
a corresponding one outward into the provinces, both
promoting the fusion of the nations. Over the Roman
roads marched the legions to keep control of the sub
jugated world or to protect its boundaries. Pro-con
suls and prsetors went into the provinces to administer
law and justice. Couriers bore the edicts of the
Emperor from the center to the circumference of the
erapire, and Roraans of distinction journeyed to gain a
knowledge of the world. The members of Roman col
onies also, who had themselves originally lived in
Rome, or whose fathers had hved there, went back
and forth on their errands of business or pleasure.
RESULTS.
Certainly this is the picture of an Empire " diverse "
from all its predecessors. Under what wonderful
influences the ftision of races was accomplished and the
unification of the world promoted! No such picture
as is presented in the Roman Erapire was ever exhib
ited by the extension of the Babylonian, the Persian or
the Macedonian power. These kingdoms had simply
collected multitudes of raen under the sway of a single
master; they were colossal despotisms. They had
brought their subjects together under a central power
and put an end to their tribal wars. Nations were
held together in a single bundle; but the rights of
individuals .were never esteemed, and the nations thera
selves were never assimilated. The forraer empires
were conglomerates; reminding one of certain rocks
consisting of widely different constituents, kept in place
by the pressure which has been exerted upon them.

RESULTS. 275
Even under the dominion of the Greeks, who had
attached much moral value to the individual and
developed a system of laws in which the will of the
despot was superseded, there was no coherence between
the sraall coraraunities of which their commonwealth
was composed. Their confederacies were easily dis
solved and therefore easily crushed by the common
enemy. Alexander founded no united dominion. His
erapire fell to pieces at his death. Rorae on the con
trary, moving forward with a slower advance and
developing by a certain method of accretion whereby
she was enabled to assimilate that which she added to
herself, held what she won, not by the iron grasp of a
despot, but by the sagacious pohcy of a state; which,
without overturning local custoras and laws, dissolved
the political bonds of the nations which she subjugated
by establishing still stronger bonds of connection with
herself. She treated her colonies and dependencies so
justly that she found in the very communities which
she had annexed, her most trustworthy supporters.
In consequence of this Roraan policy the nations
which had lived and labored apart, together with all
their gains and their achievements, their forms of life
and of activity, their philosophies and their religions,
were comprised in one great empire. There has never
been another in the whole course of history which so
united in itself the cultivated nations of its own time.
And when in addition, we reraember the unifying
effect which had been produced through the extension
of Greek thought and the dispersion of the Jewish
religion, we are constrained to believe that Almighty
God, in his divine providence had himself prepared

276 THE UNIFICATION OF THE WORLD.
the world for the reception of a revelation, in which
not only its unification but its positive unity should be
at last exhibited, and the yearnings of raankind for
social combination and spiritual fellowship be satisfied.

ART

IV.

The Kingdom of Heaven at PIand.

"The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God is at hand; repent
ye, and believe the Gospel." — Mark i: 15.

Chapter XI: The Despair of Heathenism.
Chapter XII: The World Lying in Wickedness.
Chapter XIII: The Fullness of Time.
Chapter XIV: Jesus and the Resurrection.

Chapter XI.
THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
One of the very remarkable peculiarities of the
sacred writers is their ability to characterize in a few
words the condition of their age. No other authors
are more concise, and none are so exact. We find in
the New Testaraent raany illustrations of this peculi
arity — the condition of the world at the time of the
appearance of the Redeeraer being vividly set before
us in the terse but graphic descriptions of the apostles.
An exaraple occurs in the Epistle of Paul to the Ephe
sians, wherein, writing to the citizens of the most im
portant place in Asia Minor, the Apostle, in a single
sentence, depicts their religious condition: "At that
time ye were without Christ; * * *'' having no hope and
without God in the world. "'*'
SOURCES.
We shall endeavor to exhibit in the present chapter
the growth of this hopeless godlessness, of which the
Apostle speaks, and to connect it with the great intel
lectual revolution under Socrates, and with the unifi
cation of the world under the Roman empire. It had
its roots in each. It was the outgrowth of the liberal
policy of Rome; it began to be especially manifested
after the subjugation of Greece, and it was the result
of the reciprocal influence of the two peoples.
(1/ Eph. ii: 12.

200 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
The civilizations of Greece and Rorae, although
diverse frora each other in many particulars, were
nevertheless derived frora a coraraon origin and were,
therefore, easily amalgamated. But the effect of the
amalgamation was similar to that which often appears
in the ftision of races — the resultant was a degener
ate reflection of both originals, in which rauch was
lost. The Roman maintained his courage and de
termination, but lost his primitive simplicity. The
Greek raaintained his taste and much of his intellect
ual power, but lost his independence of character.
The Roman became luxurious and corrupt ; the Greek
became servile and abject. But while Greece suffered
the humiliation of defeat, she undertook to rule her
conqueror in the capacity of an intelligent slave by
ministering to his passions; but while thus deraeaning
herself she was unable to rise frora her condition of
bondage. Greece becarae the immediate source of
Roraan frivolity. She furnished cooks, buffoons and
parasites of ever}' class to her royal master, and her
very philosophers taught him to dignify pleasure as a
veritable virtue, and gratify his palate as a pursuit
worth}' the attention of a great and noble soul.'^'
The results finally appeared in the disintegration of
morals, and the dissolution of faith.
Let us trace the progress of the decline.
ROMAN LIBERALITY.
We have observed that when the Roraans began
their career of conquest they did not seek to impose
their forras of faith on the conquered nations, nor to
(2) History of the Romans Under the Empire ; Merivale, ch. xxii.

ROMAN LIBERALISM. 28 1
interfere with their religious beliefs and practices.
This spirit of toleration was the outgrowth of their
polytheism. A nation which already worships a mul
titude of gods is not disposed to resist the addition of
a few more to their nuraber. In this respect polythe
ism has always been distinguished from monotheism.
The monotheist of necessit}' regards all gods except
his own as false, and considers it his duty to repudiate
thera. If his faith be fervent, he can scarcely suffer
the presence of those who worship thera. Jewish ex
clusiveness was thus derived from the fundamental
principle of the Jewish religion, which, while it did
not require bigotry on the part of its adherents, cer
tainly did require that they hold themselves aloof from
all those who transgressed their first commandment,
'¦'•Thou shalt have no other Gods before me.'''' For sim
ilar reasons the Persians destroyed the idols of Baby
lonia together with their worshippers, while they fa
vored the Jews who rejected the worship of iraages.
The same spirit was displayed frora the first by the
Saracen conquerors and is exhibited in the Moham
raedan of the present day. The polytheist, upon the other
hand, readily acknowledged gods everywhere, even
those that were not his own. No god could be strange
to hira. The divinities of another people were entitled
to as rauch veneration as those which he hiraself had
been taught to worship. Indeed, he was inchned to
behold in the gods of the stranger the same gods as
his own, though disguised by unfamiliar names and
honored in unfamiliar ceremonies. So it readily came
about, when the Roman was brought into intimate
connection with the Greek, that he looked upon the

282 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
gods of Olympus as identical with his own. Indeed,
they are thus identified in the minds of raost modern
readers. So to the conquering* Roman, Zeus was the
sarae as Jupiter, Here as Juno, and so on throughout
the catalogue. As the Roman extended his career
of conquest to the north, east and the south, he no
where found the deities alien to his mind. He recog
nized in thera his native gods, and that with scarcely
an effort of the mind. He became a " worshiper of
all divinities." It was not only his pohcy, but his very
nature, to tolerate all religions. He did even more
than this. Upon the conquest of any province or state
its gods were invited in soleran forraula to take up
their abode in Rome, and the conqueror promised, if
this were done, to build them temples, to offer them
sacrifices and to give costly games in their honor.''''
The explanation of this custom is found in that
common theory of polytheism, that every separate
race and place had their own peculiar divinities, who
were accustomed to aid thera in battle and provide for
thera in peace. It therefore becarae the part of polit
ical sagacity to invite these gods to the Roraan capi
tal that their assistance might be invoked in the prose
cution of Roman conquests. Meanwhile, to prevent
the adoption of a sirailar policy on the part of their
enemies, the Roraans were accustomed, more particu
larly in early times, to keep the naraes of their own
gods secret.
The Roraan divinities were in this way multiplied
with the same rapidity as the Roman conquests. While
at first the number of gods whom the Romans adored
(3) Conflict of Christianity with Heathenism; Ulhorn, p. 37.

ROMAN LIBERALITY. 283
was comparatively small, after a time they were indef
initely increased. The rites of worship also which were
introduced in connection with these gods, became
exceedingly complex, and the original Roman religion,
both in the objects of its homage and their attendant
ceremonies, experienced a vast expansion which was
certain to produce in time an effect entirely the reverse
of that which was contemplated.
The most serious effects, however, followed the
amalgamation of Greek and Roman. Rome had been
early brought into intercourse with the Greek civiliza
tion and religion in the Greek colonies of Southern
Italy. Before the foundation of the Republic the
Sibylline books had been introduced into Rome from
Cumse and the worship of Apollo formally adopted.''''
Foreign influences were therefore felt in Rome before
the subjugation of Greece, and certain of her gods had
already received honors second only to those which
they paid to the Romans' own. But the fusion went
on at a much more rapid rate after the conquest of
Greece. The Romans received only the shell of the
old Greek religion, and abandoned the simplicity of
their primitive institutions to receive nothing in re
turn. They caught the spirit of the Greek in its most
skeptical age, when its religion was a raatter of exter
nals only, saturated with an intense secular and worldly
spirit. The gods multiplied; their increase fostered an
excessive growth of superstition; superstition produced
outspoken skepticism, and skepticism in turn passed
into the atheistic despair of which the apostle speaks
in his epistle to the Ephesians. We note now the par
ticular steps.
(0 History of Rome ; Mummsen, I, 239.

284 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
GROWTH OF SUPERSTITION.
The apostle Paul began his address to the Athen
ians by remarking, " Ye men of Athens, I perceive
that in aU things ye are too superstitious." He unques
tionably referred to the multiplicity of the altars and
statues of their gods. A survey of the religious life of
the entire Roman Erapire raust produce the same
irapression. The gods and goddesses had becorae an
innuraerable host; the temples and holy places were
fairly countless ; the world was full of divinities. Petron-
ius makes a woman from the country district adjoining
Rome declare that it was easier to find a god in her
neisrhborhood than a man. Where there were not
temples or altars there were at least sacred trees, sacred
stones, sacred rocks, which it was .supposed the deities
frequented, which were therefore decorated with gar
lands, and which no one passed without exhibiting
some sign of veneration. The entire life was satur
ated with religion, and the whole tirae given to its exer
cises, even when the mind was occupied with other
subjects. At every important public transaction the
gods were consulted; every assembly of the people was
opened with sacrifice or prayer. Even private life had
its continual religious exercises, and each event was
celebrated with appropriate religious services. There
were appropriate gods or goddesses who watched over
every stage of life; who presided at the birth of the
child; were invoked on the ninth day when its name
was given; cared for its food and drink; protected it
when it took its first step; taught it to creep, to stand,
to walk, to lisp, to talk; and so on in each successive
period of its life. There were particular gods for every

GROWTH OF SUPERSTITION. 285
portion of its dwelling — the door, the threshold of the
door, and even the hinges of the door. There was a
special god for each different class — even the most
menial and the most imraoral; and a special divinity
for those who were afflicted in a peculiar manner, such
as the childless, the maimed or the blind. There was
the god of the stable, and the goddess of the horses;
there were gods for merchants, artists, poets and tillers
of the soil. The gods must be invoked before the har
vest could be reaped; and not even a tree could be
felled in the forest without supplicating the unknown
god who might inhabit it. Gods were also invoked in
the prosecution of criminal practices, and their worship
was used as a pretext for indulgence in the raost out
rageous vices. Although the government was aware
of the evils which were thus propagated among the
people, it scarcely ventured to prohibit the idolatrous
practices by which they were proraoted. E^'en the
orgies of the Bacchanalia might be indulged by those
who stated that it was a matter of conscience with
them, and who, upon this ground, could obtain the per
mission of the prsetor for their observance.
The same spirit of toleration permitted the introduc
tion into Rome of all the immoral ceremonies which
were connected with the religion of foreigners. At
first the state did not permit the observance of any
foreign rites without a special decree; but the efforts
of the government to suppress them were not long
effectual. The forbidden worships continued to find
more and more adherents, until, in the times of the
Empire they had not only ceased to be forbidden, but,
as the people began to lose faith in their own gods.

286 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
they eagerly sought relief in the worship of the foreign
divinities. Roman emperors themselves built sanctu
aries for Isis and Serapis side by side with the temples of
Jupiter and Vesta. Roraan ladies of the best families
took part in the processions of Isis, and watched out
the long night in her temple, to obtain expiation for
their frivolous lives. The result was a religious chaos
unparalleled in history. The gods had multiplied to
such an extent that they lost caste and character;
and in the extension of the forms of religion, religion
itself was dissolved. The day of satisfaction and of
certitude was rapidly passing. Men sought for new
gods in the vain hope of finding that which they had
been unable to obtain in the faith of the old ones.
Those who came with some claim to be " setters forth
of strange gods " were sure of an audience and often
spoke, as Paul at Athens, by invitation.'^' The greater
the distance from which the god was brought, the more
ancient and mysterious his worship, the better; the
higher were their hopes excited.
All this could have but a single ending; but, as yet,
there were no outward signs of the final desolation.
On the contrar}' there was every visible indication of
power and permanence in the external splendor of the
Roraan idolatry. The teraples were furnished with
great raagnificence and were visited by thousands.
The religious feasts and sacrifices were celebrated with
the greatest porap. There were raany suppliants before
the altar, and many inquiries at the oracles. Heathen
ism was not yet ready to give up the ghost, but was
assured of a tenacious life for several centuries yet to
(5) Acts, xvii: 19.

GROWTH OF SUPERSTITION. 287
come. Even in the demoralization which the more
increased the more the gods were multiplied, there was
an adherence to the forms of religion. They were sup
ported by the usages of centuries, and interwoven with
all the traditions of the family and of the nation; so
that even though faith in them may have been sadl}'
shattered, the people could not readily cut loose from
established customs. At the sarae time, however,
while the evidences of decline were not externally dis
played, the ancient enthusiasm had manifestly disap
peared. There were still devout souls, according to
the pagan standards, who with some show of fervor
frequented the temples to offer their sacrifices and
repeat their prayers, but the days had gone forever by
in which great statesmen like Pericles led the religious
processions to the Parthenon, or great generals of the
Roman republic brought their thank-offerings to Jupi
ter of the Capitol. Religion was sustained by custom;
not by faith. It was observed in calm deliberation,
and business-like calculation. It was the cold disincli
nation to overturn the customs which had obtained
from the days of the fathers, lest in the overturning of
the national faith, the nation itself should be overturned.
Take as a single illustration of the condition of the
age the fact that in the reign of Augustus there could
no longer be found, among free Roman families, any
virgins who were willing to become Vestals, and it
became necessar}' not only to resort to freed persons, but
to increase the privileges of the class in order to recruit
its nurabers. This is the more significant when we
remember the nature and meaning of the Vestal cere
monies. In them the Roman community was regarded

288 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
as a great family, and Vesta was the embodiment of
all the Penates of the various households. Six chaste
virgins were chosen from the best families to raaintain
upon the common hearth a fire which should never be
permitted to go out, as an example and warning to
every family in the nation. This worship, thus serai-
domestic and semi-public, was the most sacred in the
Roman religion and was the last to succumb before
the advance of Christianity.'^' We may therefore per
ceive how ill was the omen when the best families of
Rome had no more daughters to give to this holiest of
^11 callings. It meant two things, each of terrible
import — that faith was undermined and that purity
had disappeared; nay, more; that the very daughters
of Rome were willing to surrender both together.
Such was the condition which we now survey. Skep
ticism had resulted as the natural revolt against the
multiplication of divinities and the superstition which
was thus engendered. The spirit of the age was
voiced in the words of Seneca in his tract Against
Superstition: " All that ignoble crowd of gods which
the superstition of the ages has collected we will adore
in such a way as to remember that its worship belongs
rather to usage than reality. The wise man will unite
in all these observances as commanded by the laws,
not as pleasing to the gods."
SKEPTICISM.
The early Romans endeavored to occupy the middle
ground between superstition and impiety, and to guard
as carefully against one as against the other. In the
C) See History of Rome ; Mommsen, I, 227.

SKEPTICISM. 289
early days, worship was purely external. Ceremonice
Romanes was the expressive name of the Roman relig
ion.'''' It was devoid of imagination; it made no
appeal to the feeling; and the true Roman, in conse
quence, had a profound dread of all excess in religious
matters. In the observance of the prescribed cere
monies he was excessively punctilious, even when he
was entirely unconcerned as to the attitude of his heart.
The "pious" man was the one who knew the ritual the
best and the most carefully observed it; who was anx
ious to worship each of his gods in proper order and
to be in debt to none of them.
It is not strange, therefore, that when the divinities
which were iraported from other nations became so
numerous that no one could possibly keep track of
thera, and when the cereraonies which were connected
with their worship appealed so largely to the fancy
and rainistered so largely to the feelings, that ancient
custora was seriously transgressed, the representative
Roman recalled the days of his fathers, bestirred him
self with patriotic zeal in behalf of primitive institu
tions, and rebelled against the colossal superstition.
At first a compromise was attempted. The effort
was made by certain philosophers for a time to com
bine in one general system the apparently discordant
creeds of heathenism, and to create a sort of Pagan uni
versalism, in which the elements of all religions might
be blended.'^' But the effort proved futile. It was only
one of the signs of the times indicating the uncertainty
and the unrest of that distracted period. Old beliefs
(0 Mommsen, I, 233.
(i) Beginnin.^s of Christianity ; Fisher, p. 72.

290 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
were dissolved, and in the presence of so raany which
had been tried and found wanting no belief could be
accepted. The hope that there might be found among
them some single religion acceptable to all mankind
was regarded as the dreara of the wildest visionary. If
any one indulged in it he was supposed to be an ignor
amus, who knew nothing of the many religious systems
which had corae into rautual conflict. The careful
thinkers of the age regarded the expectation as utterly
chiraerical; and it certainly was so, if the universal
religion was to be found araong any of those which
heathenisra had produced, or if it were to be created
out of the materials of a dying polytheism. The only
practical result which the multiplicity of gods and of
religious notions had produced was a deep and incur
able skepticism which the wisest raen of the age were
glad to confess, rather than to be considered as adher
ing in any degree to the rautuaUy contradictory forms
of the current faith. Polybius, the Greek historian,
who passed many years in Rome and who died 122
B. C, regarded rehgion simply as the pillar of the
state, a necessary means to political ends, inasrauch as
it held the multitude in check by its terrifying fictions.
So early had skepticism laid hold of the thinking mind.'^'
Cicero sa}'s :
" I thought I should be doing an immense benefit both to my
self and to my countrymen if I could entirely eradicate all supersti
tious errors. Nor is there any fear that true religion can be engen
dered by the demolition of this superstition ; for as this religion
¦which is united w^ith the knowledge of nature is to be propagated,
so, also, are all the roots of superstition to be destroyed; for
that presses upon and pursues and persecutes you -wherever you
(9) Introduction to Neander's Church History.

SKEPTICISM.

291

turn yourself, whether you consult a diviner or have heard an
omen or have immollated a victim, or beheld a flight of birds;
whether you have seen a Chaldsean or a soothsayer; if it lightens
or thunders, or if anything is struck by lightning; if any kind of
a prodigy occurs; some of which things must be frequently com
ing to pass, so that you can never rise with a tranquil mind.'"
Varro, the contemporary and intimate friend of Cicero,
did not scruple to comment upon the unworthy and
absurd character of the myths and Ic gends of the popu
lar faith. Stich raen looked upon them as a political
necessity, and defended thera only as a pious fraud,
in which it was necessary to indulge the raultitude in
order to the stability of the existing order of things.
The revolt against superstition, however, and the
skepticism and neglect of religion which ensued, be
came so general that the effort was raade, beginning
with the eraperor Augustus, to restore the observance
of religion by means of the civil power. From the
tirae that the authority of Augustus was established
he set himself, from political motives, to restore the
disused altars, believing this to be the surest raeans to
confirm his own power and to give coherence to his
system of government. Although he was an unbe
liever himself, he ostentatiously displayed on all occa
sions his respect for the faith of the people. He re
built the temples and restored the ancient customs
Even as consul he caused eighty-six teraples to be
rebuilt.'^"' At the same time, also, he instituted new
modes of worship, which were only in truth the repro
duction of the old under new names. He caused this
restoration of religion to be observed with great splen
dor, accompanied by the repetition of those secular
(Vi) Ancient World and Christianity ; De Pressense, p. 422.

292

THE DESPAIR OF HEATHLNISM.

games which had been instituted under the Republic,
in order to avert, by means of the special ceremonials
which were connected with them, the threatened visi
tation of the plague. He atterapted to corapel others
to honor the gods after his own external exaraple.
But the corpse could not be galvanized into life. The
vast majority of Roman statesraen and Roraan scholars
were total disbelievers in the mythical divinities of
the people and in the fables which related to them.
They confessed their ignorance with regard to God,
or, indeed, if there were a God at all. They had no
definite notions with regard to iramortality, and did
not hesitate to express their doubts with regard to any
future life. Julius Csesar hiraself, when the Roman
Senate debated the question how Catiline should be
punished, opposed the infliction of capital punishment
upon the ground that death would put an end to pain,
and that therefore it would not be sufficient penalty.
Even those who acknowledged the existence of God
stripped him of every personal attribute. The elder
Pliny, in a chapter upon the subject of God in his
Natural History, says: "Whatever God be, if there
be any other god (than the world), and wherever he
exists, he is all sense, all sight, all hearing, all life, all
mind, and all within himself." He declared the foUy'^^'
of believing in gods who were personified virtues or
vices, with their mari-iages, quarrels and criraes.
He held that the deification of men was the best sort
of worship. He declared it ridiculous to suppose that
the great head of all things paid any regard to human
affairs; that it would be "polluted by such a disagree-
(11) Nat. His. II, 5.

CONNECTION WITH GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 293
able and complicated office." Cato and Csesar openly
acknowledged their skepticism in the Senate. Lucre
tius pursued every form of religious faith vindictively.
He regarded each as a gigantic spectre trampling the
human race with heavy feet, ancl looking down from
on high with a menacing aspect, which it was the
business of men to defy. He regarded the gods as
the mere offspring of fear, and the universe as a
result of chance. The comfortless conclusion of the
vast majority of Roraan scholars is stated by Pliny in
the most heartless unconcern when he says: " There
is nothing certain save that nothing is certain, and
there is no more wretched and yet arrogant being
than raan. The best thing which has been given to
raan amid the many torments of this life is that he can
take his own life!"
It would not be safe to assurae that this skepticism
was absolutely universal, nor that all the thinking men
of that age were atheists. While we raeet with fan
atics like Lucretius, unbelievers like Pliny, and con
scientious doubters like Csesar and Cicero; we meet
with some, also, who made the effort to hold fast to
the old faith. Such an one was Tacitus, whose faith
in the gods seems to have been but little shaken; and
Plutarch, who, in his own pagan way, was a pious and
believing man. But such exceptions are very rare,
and serve onl}' to raake the general hopelessness and
disbelief of that despairing age the more conspicuous.
CONNECTION WITH GREEK PHILOSOPHY.
We have observed in the chapter upon the Great
Intellectual Revolution that the peculiar work of

294 '^^^ DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
Socrates consisted in diverting the attention of men from
that which was without to that which was within
them, and in encouraging them, as far as possible, to
"know themselves." The skepticism of the age, which
we are now considering, had been brought about ver}'
largely in consequence of the revolution in the methods
of thought which Socrates had introduced. When
Socrates directed the attention of raen to the condition
of their own souls, sin could no longer be veiled, as it
was in the age which preceded hira. Thenceforth it
was impossible for the soul to answer the question,
"How shall I obtain peace .^" without having respect
to its own sinfulness.
We have also observed, in connection with the in
fluence of Socrates, that he would have no trifling
with the problems of human life and the interests of
the human soul; that while he inculcated a hope of
immortality, he taught that if there were indeed a
future for the huraan soul, it could not possibl}' be a
blessed one if that soul were contaminated with sinful
passions; and that by such means he gave to the hu
man conscience a place of supreme importance. The
effects of his teaching remained; but inasmuch as de
liverance from sin could not be found in connection
with the observance of any heathen rite, no matter
from what quarter it might be obtained, peace of con
science was still as far removed as ever. It followed
therefore, that the influence of the Socratic philosophy
brought about in time the very skepticism which he
hiraself sought to avoid. The world was raade aware
of its sin and was read}' to confess it ; but how should
the world be rid of it? Seneca discourses concernino-

CONNECTION WITH GREEK PHILOSOPHY. 295
it in words which remind us of certain passages in the
writings of St. Paul: "We have all sinned; some
grievously, others more lightly ; some purposely, others
accidentally impelled or led astray. And not only have
we transgressed, but we shall continue to do so until
the end of life." The human conscience was awake;
its power was manifested in nuraerous examples. It
was felt that the punishment of evil-doers was sure,
even though the rewards of the righteous might be
uncertain; and it was felt that the conscience itself
possessed the power of punishing its own possessor.
" We talk," says Cicero, " as if all the miseries of man were
comprehended in death, pain of body, sorrow of mind or judi
cial punishment, ¦which I grant are calamitous accidents that
have befallen many good men; but the sting of conscience, the
remorse of guilt, is in itself the greatest evil, even exclusive of
the external punishments that attend it."(i2)
But the world under the power of this influence,
which began with the Socratic philosophy, had reached
a state which may be described only in the word, ter
rible. There was the consciousness of sin, and the
foreseen punishment of the guilty. But there was also
the adraitted inadequacy of all existing religions to
help the sinner. There was, therefore, no apparent
way of escape. Dualism, the intolerable blemish upon
the Socratic philosophy, still remained. It was felt
that evil would never pass away, but that it would
continue forever to antagonize the good. Here was
the great problem which ancient philosoph}' was never
able to resolve, and which could not be settled until the
light of the Gospel should be shed upon it. All the
ancient systems made shipwreck upon the same rock,
(12) De Legibus, II, 10.

296 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENIiiM.
even though they did not do so after the same manner;
and they were bound to continue to do so until that
Pilot should appear who alone knew the channel by
which they might be guided safely into the harbor.
REVOLT.
It could scarcely be expected, therefore, that raen
would be content to accept the ethics of the Socratic
philosophy when its philosophical conclusions brought
no certainty to their minds and gave no stability to
their hopes. A generation had scarcely elapsed after
the death of Socrates before the rise of two great
schools of philosophy whose adherents at the birth of
Christ numbered many more than all the disciples of
Socrates which remained.
In consequence of the teachings of Socrates and
Plato, Greece was brought into that condition where
she knew both too little and too much. She knew too
little to worship the Unknown God, who had not yet
been revealed to her; she knew too rauch to beheve
in any other. The position which she had reached in
Socrates and his great disciple could not, therefore, be
maintained, and a period of decadence succeeded.
The followers of Aristotle eliminated the idea of God
frora their philosophy and asserted that no divinity
was needed to explain the forraation of the world. A
skeptical school arose which wore a sraile upon its face
to conceal the bitterness which it carried in its heart.
It pretended to expose the deceptions of the philos
ophers which preceded it, but in reality it trarapled
under foot everything that was high and holy. Its
adherents followed the exaraple of the Sophists who

REVOLT. 297
had preceded Socrates, in setting one philosopher
against another — opposing Aristotle to Plato and Plato
to Aristotle; and it was their pleasure to see these two
illustrious thinkers transfix each other with their own
darts and carry with them in their downfall the philos
ophy of which they were the exponents. They taught
that raen raight cease to trouble themselves ¦with re
gard to such questions and subside into a dignified
" apathv " { arapaBia). EPICUREAN AND STOIC.
Out of this movement grew the Epicurean and Stoic
schools of philosophy. Stoicism begins with Zeno of
Citiura, who was born 358 B. C. Epicureanism be
gins with Epicurus, born 342 B. C. In the days of
decadence, which had now arrived, the philosophy of
both these schools threw raan back into hiraself, and
was occupied siraply with the question of individual
happiness. They raet their coraraon end in that ab
ject pessiraisra, in which the forlorn hope of false
philosophy reached its last ditch. The Stoic, out of
his pessiraisra, set before hiraself as his proud ideal, an
austere apathy and a magnaniraous self-denial. ''^' He
would be untouched by passion, unmoved by pain, in
different to pleasure and undisturbed by any change
of circurastances. In this way alone he expected to
defeat the forces of sorrow and disappointment which
beset his soul. To him pleasure was no good and pain
no evil. He schooled hiraself to be untouched by
either. He airaed to be sufficient unto hiraself.
The Epicurean, out of his pessiraisra, cultivated the
(18) Greek Philosophy ; Zeller, §71.

298 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
art of making hiraself happy.'"' His first principle
was that suffering of all kinds was to be avoided and
happiness sought in pleasure; and his onl}' guide in
the choice of the latter was the raeans of escaping the
forraer. On this ground virtue was desirable; raod
eration should be practiced and an injury should not
be done to another lest that other should retaliate.
The Stoic was a pantheist; the Epicurean a materi
alist. The Stoic taught that the human soul was cor
poreal, but animated by the universal soul, or reason;
the Epicurean taught that it was composed of material
atoras, which should perish when they became disin
tegrate. The Stoic believed in a universal divinity,
present in e\'ery thing; the Epicurean belie^'ed that
the gods were material beings like himself, onh^ raore
insensate and impassive.
Transplanted to Rome, both systems of philosophy
were materiallv modified. The epoch of productive
speculation had passed away, and philosophy had
arrived at that stage where it was not only incapable
of originating new systems, but wherein it seemed un
able to apprehend the better elements of the old ones.
"The enchanted draught of speculation," says Momm
sen, " is always dangerous, but when stale and diluted
it is rank poison. "'^'^' Such was the state of Greek
philosophy when it entered Rome. The doctrines of
Epicurus responded exactly to the instincts of Rome,
and were eagerly embraced by its luxury-loving peo
ple, now enriched by the spoils of a conquered world.
DePressense well remarks of this philosophy that " if
(14) Greek Philosophy ; Zeller, § 76.
(15) Mommsen, III, 511, seq.

EPICUREAN AND STOIC. 299
it had not existed it raust needs have been invented."
It found an early charapion in the poet Lucretius, who
eagerly seized upon it as a weapon which he might
use against the old mythology with that vindictive
hatred which we have already remarked. " Let us
trample religion under our feet," he says, "and let our
victory over it exalt us to heaven." He claimed that
religion was the height of imraorality, the instigator of
every crime. He would banish it from the earth and
relieve the soul of the terrors which its imaginary
gods had aroused. Like some Epicureans of our own
day Lucretius supposed that raan raight be made free
by destroying his belief in imra.ortality; and he seri-
otisly endeavored to accomplish this by destroying the
faith of the people of his own age.
This philosophy therefore became at Rome a mere
school of self-indulgence, and lost the refinement which,
in Greece, had led it to recognize in virtue that which
gave zest to pleasure and in teraperance that which
prolonged it. It called siraply for a continuous round
of physical delights; it taught the grossest sensuality;
it proclairaed the inanity of goodness and the lawful
ness of lust. It was the road — sure, steep and swift,
to awful demoralization.
Stoicism on the other hand, transplanted to Rome,
found its response in the nobler spirits of the age. It
assumed an aspect much raore severe than it had mani
fested at Athens, and rallied to itself many who strove
to rise above the general degradation. In them it
souo-ht to kindle an aspiration after a purer faith and
a better life; but it could not neutralize the deadly
consequences of its first principles. Denying God and

300 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
personal immortality, it had no basis for morality and
no foundation for hope; and it was obliged to confess
the fact. There was a tone of melancholy in its teach
ing which could not be disguised, a hopelessness
which could not be hidden. A desolating fatalism
pervaded the system. " The fates are our laws," said
the Roman Stoic. From the inexorable tyranny of
these fates, however, he had one certain refuge, which
he never failed to counsel; he
" Could himself his own quietus make
Witli a bare bodkin."
This had been the corafortless recourse of the Stoic
frora the first. Zeno and Cleanthes both coraraitted
suicide, ancl their example was foUowed b}' many a
disciple.''**' They freely declared that it was not
" Nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
Than to take arms against a sea of troubles.
And by opposing end them."
Stoicism, as an erainent Frenchman has said, was
"an apprenticeship for death." It taught its disciples
to live proudly, to suffer heroically, to die bravely —
that was all. It was a grim paradox; refined, but
deterrained cowardice; subtle, but abandoned selfish
ness. It contained no syrapathy, no generosity, no
hurable resignation, no abiding peace. It proclairaed
as the correct maxira of life, "Kill thyself and die erect
in the consciousness of thy own strength." Pliny, as
we have already noticed, counseled it. Sa}'s Seneca:
" Seest thou yon steep height, that is the descent to free
dom. Seest thou yon sea, yon river, yon well; freedom sits
there in the depths. Seest thou yon low withered tree; there
(16) Zeller, § 72.

EPICUREAN AND STOIC. 30I
freedom hangs. Seest thou thy neck, thy throat, thy heart;
they are the ways of escape from bondage."
And Seneca took his own medicine — a double dose
of it, in fact; for he not only opened his veins, but took
poison in addition.
Surely heathenism has gone bankrupt and declared
itself absolutely insolvent in the advice and example of
its greatest Stoic. Despairing of every kind of happi
ness it has no further consolation for the evils of life than
self-destruction. It knows no way in which to achieve
victory over the world, but by escaping from the world.
Indeed, there was no desire to believe in a world to
come lest the future might be a continuance of the ills
of the present. Says Pliny:
" What folly it is to rene-w life after death. Where shall
created beings find rest if you suppose that shades in hell and
souls in heaven continue to have any feeling? You rob us of
man's greatest good — death. Let us rather find in the tranquility
which preceded our existence the pledge of the repose which
is to follo'w it."
Such then was the outcome of heathen philosophy.
It is true that a counter revolt had appeared in the
New Academy, which sheltered itself under the narae
of Plato, and atterapted to restore the old Socratic tra
ditions. But it was a signal failure. Its very adher
ents soon abandoned the principles which they had
attempted to hold, and the pagan raind fell back again
into materialism or pantheism. The Epicurean and
Stoic substantially divided the world between them.
It was a lost world; and at last was conscious of its
bitter misery. THE FINAL CONDITION: DESPAIR.
Wc perceive now a state of society in which there

302 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
is a purification of the huraan ideal and a development
of noble aspirations, in connection with a sense of utter
failure and an ever-deepening skepticism; a craving
which was strong and universal to believe something,
but a conviction that nothing was certain. There was
an apprehension and appreciation of the good and the
true; but so soon as the hand was put forth to grasp
them they vanished. The heathen world perceived
the good, but could not prevent itself from following
the evil. Yet as it could not accept the verdict of final
failure, it became the more anxious for some mysteri
ous deliverance, which was the more increased by the
intuition of the human heart.
Such was the condition of the thoughtful mind. It
finds a complete illustration in the question which
Pilate, a representative Roman, addressed to one whom
he supposed to be only a Galilean peasant, who had
been brought before him for judgment: "What is
truth.?" Cicero, after referring to the doctrines of
different philosophers concerning the huraan soul, says:
"Which of these opinions may be true a god may know;
which raay be only probable is a difficult question."
" Ah! if one might only have a guide to truth," sighs
Seneca. They were shut up to a hopeless condition in
which they must patiently abide until frora some
quarter which they could not foresee, and in some way
of which they could not conceive, relief should corae
to their vexed and irapatient souls. The best of them
and the wisest of them could but re-echo the words of
Plato: "We will wait for one, be it a god or god-
inspired man, to teach us our religious duties and to
take away the darkness from our eyes."

THE FINAL CONDITION: DESPAIR. 303
Then came feverish unrest, intolerable ennui.
The heart of the Roman world was consumed with
desire which could not be gratified; shaken with the
agitation of a soul no longer master of itself. The
hope of annihilation was the only consolation which it
enjoyed, and in this heartless, sickening, stifling, over
whelraing despair the representative of the Grseco-
Roraan world abandoned hiraself to anything that
might afford hira some relief.
•ij. 4k ^ ^ ^ ^
"Ah! carry back thy ken.
What, some two thousand years! Survey
The ¦world as it -was then.
" Like ours it looked, in outward air.
Its head was clear and true;
Sumptuous its clothing, rich its fare;
No pause its action knew.
" Stout was its arm, each thew and bone
Seem'd puissant and alive —
But ah ! its heart, its heart was stone
And so it could not thrive.
" On that hard pagan world disgust
And secret loathing fell;
Deep weariness and sated lust
Made human life a hell.
" In his goodly hall with haggard eyes.
The Roman noble lay;
He drove abroad in furious guise
Along the Appian Way.
" He made a feast, drank fierce and fast,
And crowned his hair with flowers;
No easier, nor no quicker passed
The impracticable hours. "(i''')
(I'i') Matthew Arnold's Poems ; " Obermann Once More.'"

3^4

THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.

" Give me some fresh corafort," cries Pliny the
younger, in the anguish of his heart —
'• Give me some fresh comfort, great and strong, such as I have
never yet heard or read. Everything that I have read or heard
comes back now to my memory, but my sorrow is too deep to
be 1 eached by it."
And we have finally in the death of Petronius a
complete illustration of the character of the godless
world. Petronius the attache of Nero's court, the
great story-teller and wit, the master of ceremonies at
raany a garae and banquet; the raan whose authority
upon raatters of taste was such that he received the
surnarae of "Arbiter;" the man who is known in liter
ature by his beautiful descriptions of the profligacy of
his times — Petronius committed suicide because he
feared that his jealous rival Tigellinus might displace
him. He opened his veins that he might slowly bleed
to death, and while the blood was flowing conversed
with his friends upon frivolous subjects. When a cer
tain ludicrous poem was read to him, or some laughable
incident was narrated, which he wished to enjoy at
length, his veins were tied up in order that his death
might be retarded; and so he passed out into the dark
ness. Does history anywhere afford an illustration of
such sardonic, grim and ghastly huraor, and at the
same time, of such pathetic hopelessness, in which it is
not even conscious of its own despair, as this.?
INTENSE DESIRE.
But mankind had now reached the point to which
God must bring it. The desire for salvation had
become distinct. Fallen man had recovered his sense
of the need of pardon and reconciliation. While God

INTENSE DESIRE.

305

was still unknown, and his truth unseen, the conscience
groped towards the light as plants which grow in mines
stretch forth their blanched and brittle tendrils towards
that sun whose bearas have never reached them.
There was a world within this hopeless and godless
heathen world — in it, but scarcely of it. The dispro
portion between the members of the two is of little
moraent. By raeans of a sraall rainority the Lord
accoraplishes his purposes, and the privileged few be
come the means of blessing to all. On those heads
which are lifted up towards heaven arises the dawn of
that new day, which, first touching the mountain-
tops, does not close until all the valleys have been filled
with light. Our attention, then, must not be taken up
with the reckless crowd, the degraded aristocracy, the
superstitious populace, the heartless raen of the world.
We must remember the honest strivings after the good
and the eager thirst for truth which we perceive to
have been exhibited even in that age, and find therein
the promise of something better. To lead humanity
to sigh after deliverance was the great design of God
in this peculiar work of preparation. This is very beau
tifully exhibited in the character of Clement, a noble
Roman of that age, as depicted in " The Clementines,"
a sort of philosophical romance written in the second
or third century. Clement says of himself:
" I was from my early youth exercised with doubts, which
had found entrance into my soul I hardly know how. Will my
existence terminate with death? And will no one hereafter be
mindful of me when infinite time sinks all human things in for
getfulness? It will be as well as if I had not been born! When
was the world created ? And what existed before the world
was? If it had a beginning will it likewrise have an end? And

3o6 THE DESPAIR OF HEATHENISM.
after the end of the world what will be there then ? If not per
chance the silence of death, something of which at present no
conception can be found? Incessantly haunted by such thoughts
as these I grew pale and emaciated, and what was most terrible,
whenever I strove to banish this anxiety, I only experienced the
renewal of my sufferings in an aggravated degree. I was not
aware that I had in these thoughts a friendly companion, guiding
me on towards eternal life, as I afterwards learned by experience,
and thanked the great Disposer of all for granting me such guid
ance; since it was by these thoughts — so distressing at first, that
I was impelled to seek till I found that which I needed."
His fruitless endeavor to obtain peace in the study
of philosophy, in the investigation of foreign religions,
and in other ways, is described in the sarae pathetic
language. " Thus was I driven to and fro, and from
the bottom of my heart sighed for deliverance." Such
was his condition when he heard ancl accepted the
Gospel.''^' And there were thousands like him. St.
Augustine, after he had read Cicero's " Hortensius,"
¦which in concentrated form presents the very best
¦which the heathen world could offer to the seeking
soul of that age, testifies: "Theni arose and went
to Christ." Such was the effect of the despair of
heathenisra. (18) From Neander's Introduction to Church History.

Chapter XII.
THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
" The whole world lieth in wickedness," says the
Apostle John,'^' in another of those concise sayings in
which the sacred writers characterized their age. The
Apostle Paul in the first chapter of the epistle to the
Romans depicts the wickedness to which John refers,
in language as delicate and words as few as could pos
sibly be used in justice to the subject. After a reference
to the unspeakable uneleanness of heathen society he cat
alogues the criminals of his own time. " Being filled with
all unrighteousness,wickedness, covetousness, malicious
ness; full of envy, murder, deceit, malignity; whisper
ers, back-biters, haters of God; insolent, haughty, boast
ful; inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents,
without understanding, covenant-breakers, without
natural affection, unmerciful."'^' That his picture is
not overdrawn, but if anything rather the reverse,
appears from a number of independent sources, such as
the writings of the early christian apologists, the con
fessions of the heathen writers and the remains of
heathen civilization which are preserved at the present
day. It would almost seem as though, in the destruc
tion of Herculaneum and Pompeii, which occurred a
few years after Paul entered the Imperial City, a part
of the Almighty's purpose was to bury out of sight the
evidences of heathen impurity as it existed in the age
(1) I John, v: 19. (2t Rom. i:29 (R. V.).

JoS THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
in which Christ appeared, and preserve them so
securely that there might not be '&ny question as to
their identity when they should be offered in testi
mony before the bar of the enlightened judgment of an
age succeeding after eighteen centuries had rolled
away. The Musee Borbonico at Naples contains a
collection of articles which the excavations in these
ancient cities have yielded, showing the very remark
able degree of cultivation which existed at the time;
but there is one room in that museum which women
are not allowed to entero This is all the more sugges
tive when we remem]:ier that in the modern city in
which the museum stands, there is very much to give
offense to the pure eyes of Protestant women. But
this room reeks with an irapurity which christian civil
ization has never known, even in its most corrupt day
and under the most unfavorable influences; and contains
the raost hideous proofs of the abject infamy of that
heathenism which was rotten to the core. The world
had reached a moral condition very similar to that
which appeared in the age iraraediately preceding the
Flood, when Noah appeared as a preacher of righteous
ness, and a new raoral regime was instituted; similar
to that which was found at a later period, at the time
of the call of Abraham, and the formal organization of
the Church of God; and the raanner of the destruction
of Porapeii bears such a reraarkably close resemblance to
the manner of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah
that we are tempted to believe that the Almighty deter
rained upon the catastrophe in order to invite atten
tion to his conderanation of the vices and criraes which
had becorae intolerable even to the God of aU raercy,

EARLY ROMAN VIRTUES. 309
and that again, at a time when in sending his own Son
he was to renew his covenant and extend its privileges
to all mankind.
This chapter is devoted to some description of the
moral condition of the heathen world at this juncture
in order that the hopelessness of heathenism may still
further appear. EARLY ROMAN VIRTUES.
The conquerors of the world had become the slaves
of their own passions. The virtues which had produced
those virile natures and energetic spirits whereby the
world had been brought into subjection were no longer
practiced. During the early days of the Republic the
morality of Rorae was distinguished by its siraplicity
and its austerity. The Roman community was a vir
tuous one. The sanctity of marriage was maintained.
It is true that the woraan reraained subject to her father
or husband; in the first case belonging so entirely to
him that he might at any moment resume all that he
had ever bestowed upon her; and in the second case,
according to the ancient legal phrase, " under her hus
band's hand " — that is to say, he possessed the right of
life or death over her.'^' But although this may ap
pear severe to the disciples of Christ we must remem
ber that in actual practice the severity was not so great
as we might imagine. Women were protected by
public opinion, and the standard of virtue was so high
that their husbands remained true to them. Plutarch
declares that it was two hundred and thirty years
before a single divorce took place in Rome. Dionysus
(3) History of ihe Romans Under the Empire ; Merivale, ch. xxii.
Mommsen, I, 89.

3IO THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
of Halicamassus claims that it was more than five
hundred. It is certain that for a long period manners
were coraparatively pure. The people were not only
virtuous, but, as a rule, temperate, industrious, and —
after their own standards, conscientious. No immodest
pictures were permitted; no nude statues of the gods
were tolerated, and the children of the household grew
up under the watchful care of modest mothers who
carefully prescribed the simple duties of domestic life.'*'
Public virtues also prevailed to the same extent as
domestic ones. Macaulay'^' draws an unchallenged
picture of the Republican days in the verse:
" Then none was for a party.
Then all were for the State;
Then the great man helped the poor.
And the poor man loved the great.
Then lands were fairly portioned.
And spoils were fairly sold;
The Romans were like brothers.
In the brave days of old."
CONQUEST AND CORRUPTION.
But the corruption of the morals of the Roman
people began at the same time and under the same
influence as the corruption of their faith. It was intro
duced with the conquest of Carthage and Corinth, and
completed with the subjugation of Egypt and the East.
Down to the time of the dictator Sylla (B. C. 82),
Rome was a coraparatively poor city. It then became
rapidly enriched, until with the organization of the
Empire, its wealth appeared to be inexhaustible. Upon
(4) Beginnings of Christianity ; Fisher, 197. Ancient ]]^orld and
Christianity ; DePressense, 160.
(5) Lays of .indent Rome ; " Horatius."

CONQUEST AND CORRUPTION. 31 1
Pompey's return from the East (B. C. 6i) he exhib
ited in his triumph the treasures which he had collected
in the plunder of Greece — plate, statuary, gems, and the
like. These he bestowed upon his friends; and the
desire for such possessions distinctly dates from the
event.'®' In the reign of Augustus the capital city
underwent a transforraation similar to that which
appears in the external life of a raodern speculator
when he suddenly acquires a fortune. Augustus boasted
that he found it of brick and would leave it of raarble.
The public buildings displayed incoraparable raagnifi
cence. Splendid teraples were built, costly aqueducts
erected, public baths furnished at great expense and
the public squares adorned with hundreds of statues.
The places of amusement were enlarged and embel
lished, no expense was spared in maintaining them,
and the eraperors of the period iraraediately succeed
ing that of Augustus even sprinkled the floors of the
circus with gold dust.''^' The rulers of Rorae vied
each with his predecessor in the display of his personal
surroundings, until the culraination of raagnificence was
attained in the Golden House of Nero. It embraced
fields and gardens, meadows and forests and even a
lake. Its walls were overlaid with gold and adorned
with precious stones. The banqueting rooms were
decorated with carved and gilded ceilings, so arranged
that they might be changed to conforra to the various
courses of the raeal, and so constructed as to shower
perfumes and flowers upon the guests. " Now I ara
lodged as a man should be," said Nero, when he took
possession of it.
(6) Merivale; ch. iv.
(7) The Ancient World and Christianity ; De Pressense; p. 424.

312 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
The wealth}' Romans aped the manners of their
masters. M. Lepidus the Consul in 87 B. C. (the year
that Sylla died), erected the raost raagnificent dwell
ing ever seen in Rorae. '^' But within a generation it
was surpassed by a hundred others, until we read of a
single private dwelling which sold for 15,000,000 sest
erces ($750,000). Emulation became a passion.'^' A
residence which erabraced only four acres was consid
ered sraall, and the man who owned but a single dwell
ing almost conteraptible. The wealthy Roraan had
his city house and his country house; and for railes
away frora Rorae, and up into the mountains stretched
the splendid parks of the aristocracy. The houses
were built of costl}' stone, collected frora every quarter
of the world — raarble, alabaster, serpentine, and mosa
ics of raore precious material The inclosures were
ornamented with fancy shrubbery, fountains and stat
ues, while a rich crimson awning stretched from roof
to roof. A company of slaves, theraselves gorgeously
attired, waited upon the lordly proprietors, and every
known delight was enjoyed by thera.
With the incoming of all this wealth and luxury,
effeminacy and vice were also introduced, and the old
Roraan virtues speedih' disappeared. The refinement
with which the Greek had disguised both his skepti
cism and his sensuality raisled the raind of the raore
prosaic Roraan. The relaxation of the bonds of relig
ious belief and the pernicious reasoning of a false phi
losophy had overtaken the Greek in the irapotence of
his national senility. But when he was brought into
contact with the Roraan his skepticism and immorality
(8) Merivale; VIII. (9) Mommsen; VoL IV; p. 6ii.

CONQUEST AND CORRUPTION. 313
prevailed with a heroic people, who were just entering
upon the full vigor of national maturity. Their
strength was that of a young giant ; and by this miser
able mesalliance their vices became those of a young-
giant also. The spirit of the refined and thoughtful,
but doubting and sensual Greek, became the forceful
influence in silencing their scruples, awakening their
passions and encouraging them to tyranny, rapine and
lust. It threw them upon the world, with all their
native energy, relentless, cruel, insatiable.
In their early days the Greeks had not been lacking
in charity and other distinguished virtues. But, like
the younger son in the Saviour's parable, they had
wasted their substance and squandered their portion.
Immodesty, with its train of evil attendants, became
their prominent characteristic. They married wives
only that they raight haVe children and their house
holds receiA'e suitable care; but the courtesan was ever
the complement of the wife and exercised a greater
influence. She was the favorite model for the very
statues of their goddesses, and the Greek often lifted
his hands in prayer to the representation of a notorious
prostitute! How disastrous, then, when Greek culture entered
the abode of Roman virtue! How insidiously, but
how swiftly, the work of corruption was carried on.
Modesty stole abashed away, and with it disappeared
the whole company of virtues.
Not only did the Romans become impure, but they
became also cruel, covetous and faithless. Lust was
attended by hatred, insincerity and brutality. Let us
observe some of the particulars of this corruption.

314 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
POLITICAL.
The enjoyment of extraordinary power is a tempta
tion to corruption which the natural man has never
been able to resist. So soon as the Romans had
brought the world under their yoke and become con
scious of their mastery, the sarae effects were pro
duced in character which we often find exhibited upon
a small scale in the village tyrant or the big bully of
the country school.
Augustus carae to the throne at the inauguration of
the raost profound peace which the world had ever
seen. But while the empire was governed by an admir
able code of laws and the conflicting passions of man
kind were to sorae extent allayed; the peace which
was produced was still a false one, inasrauch as it was
maintained by force. It was the peace of the dove in
the claws of the eagle, too tightly clasped to struggle.
The militar}' power of the Romans under Augustus
coraprised 470,000 raen in all, of which 85,000 were
sailors. The larger part of the array was stationed
upon the borders of the Empire, or in the countries
which had recently been subjugated, and there re
mained 20,000 prsetorian guards in Italy. Compared
with the great standing armies even of the present
day this was a very remarkable showing; but in view
of the limited population of the Roraan Empire, and
particularly the disproportion between the native Ro
mans and their conquered subjects, the railitary estab
lishraent was simply enormous.'^"' This great host
was thoroughly organized, equipped and disciplined.
(10) Merivale estimates the population of Italy at 7,000,000; the Euro
pean portion of the empire at 40,000,000; the entire empire at 85,000,000.
Chap, xxxix.

POLITICAL.

315

In the ancient days the Roman army was composed of
free-born citizens who served without pay in a cause
to which their own patriotism invited them, and when
the campaign was closed they returned to their homes
and to their peaceful avocations. But not so in later
times. The army was maintained by enorraous wages.
It was largely composed of veterans derived from the
provinces, who had seen service in every clime and
who had made war the business of their lives. They
seldom knew such a thing as defeat, and knew not
how to accept it; and through their frequent experi
ences of violence and bloodshed they had lost all the
finer feelings of huraanity. The very heart of the
Republic was thus corrupted in the corruption of its
legions. But under the Erapire this great establish
ment was under the control of a single man, and ex
isted for his sole benefit or for that of those whom he
was pleased to favor. It operated to increase the
power and wealth and consequent enjoyment of the
aristocracy of Rome. The consequence was that polit
ical demoralization which produced in time a class
of eraperors of which Caligula and Nero were types.
Augustus and the emperors who immediately stic-
ceeded him were, as a matter of course. Epicureans
in their philosophy, who looked upon life as a round
of pleasure, who had no concern for their fellows and
no desire beyond their own security in the luxury
wherewith they had surrounded themselves. The ele
vation of these men and their favorites to power very
speedily corrupted the public conscience and debauched
public character. The noble Roman became an in
former to escape becoming himself a victim, an execu-

3l6 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
tioner to save his own execution, and flattered the in.
famy of his masters in order that he might not fall
under their disapprobation. The whole populace had
become servile and base — bent beneath an ignomin
ious, stupid and cruel domination. Even those who
had formerly maintained their incorruptible dignity,
such as senators and knights, vied with the common
people in the common degradation.
Moreover there were certain custoras which had
grown up in connection with the extension of the Roraan
conquests which ministered to the brutality of the
people, the most conspicuous of which was the Roman
Triuraph, the public festival with which the conqueror
was received upon his return frora the country which
he had subjugated. The Roraan Triuraph was the
most brutal spectacle which the world has ever seen.'^^'
The procession entered the triumphal gate and passed
through the Via Sacra to the teraple of Jupiter upon
the hill of the Capitol. It was lead by the Senate and
the magistrates of the city, who were immediately fol
lowed by long trains of carriages on which were dis
played the spoils of conquest, including everything
which had been borne away from the conquered peo
ple. Then came the strange animals of the desolated
countr}', the arms and standards of the hostile leaders,
and behind them in turn the leaders themselves with
their wives, children and others of their kindred who
had been taken captive, loaded with the fetters in
which the conqueror had bound them. Finally the
victorious general himself appeared, the principal figure
of the procession, in a chariot drawn by four horses,
(11) Outlines of History : Fisher, i6o.

SOCIAL. 317
attended by slaves, clothed in a robe embroidered with
gold, a bough of laurel in his hand and a wreath of
laurel upon his brow. Behind him his family appeared,
to share in his honors, and finally the soldiers whora he
had led to victory. The temples were then opened,
and incense was burned to the gods. Buildings were
decorated and the population thronged the streets of
the city in holiday attire. As the procession climbed
the hill of the Capitol a number of the captives, gener
ally those of high rank, were taken into the adjoining
Mamertine prison and put to death. '^^' The festivities
ended with a pubhc feast in one of the teraples, after
which the conqueror was escorted horae by a crowd
of citizens.
Thus, every time that the Roman Triumph was re
peated, it taught the people a lesson of cruelty, spolia
tion and outrageous injustice, all associated in their
minds with the observance of religious ceremonies.
They believed that the gods had given them the vic
tory and with it absolute control over the persons and
property of their conquered subjects. Nothing was
too sacred for them to appropriate to their own use;
no feehngs were too tender for them to violate; no per
son was too dignified for them to subject to the most
menial serfdom or torture with the most horrible
cruelty. In such principles as these the Roman, after
the organization of the Empire, received his political
education. SOCIAL.
But the political degradation of the people was slight
compared with the demoralization of social, domestic
(12) Merivale, ch. xii.

3l8 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
and religious life. As the conquests of the Romans
were extended and the enormous wealth of the con
quered provinces flowed to Rome the results appeared
in the obliteration of the middle class, upon which
every nation must rely for the perpetuity of its free
institutions. The population of Italy indeed began to
diminish with the extended campaigns of Rome. The
slaughter of men in battle was one cause, but not the
chief cause of this fact. Labor had fallen into disgrace.
The work by which a livelihood was earned was des
pised as ignoble, and such professions only as those of
medicine, architecture and commerce were regarded as
honorable employments for a freeraan. The mechan
ic's occupation was considered degrading. A work
shop was an shameful thing, ancl a freeman could not
sink lower in the social scale than to becorae a tiller of
the soil.''^' Thus the race of independent Italian yeoraen
was extirpated,'"' and in the place of the farraers who
had once owned and worked the soil, and who had
subsequently filled the Roraan armies, there were found
the throng of bondmen who labored in the field with
fetters upon their limbs. The multiplication of slaves
increased with the Roman conquests. The legions dis
banded by the conqueror were rewarded with property
in Italy. When Antonius returned from the battle of
Phillipi, he rewarded his veterans with land in Italy to
the extent of fifty to three hundred acres a piece. The
population of unfriendly cities was expelled to make
room for them, and even the faithful sections suffered
to a considerable extent. The poet Virgil was for a time
(13) Conflict of Christianity with Heathenism ; Ulhorn, io6.
(1*) History of Rome ; Mommsen, III, 209; IV, 607.

DEPENDEN TS. 3 1 9
a sufferer by this high-handed confiscation. Horace,
also, was reduced to poverty and hundreds of landed
proprietors were rendered bankrupt.'^®' Conquered
territories were much more severely treated. The
soldiers entered triumphantly into the provinces which
had been subjugated, drove awa}' the inhabitants and
took possession of their lands. But these old soldiers
seldom became industrious farmers. What they had
obtained so easily was as easily thrown away. Their
holdings passed into the hands of speculators and became
the investments of Roman magnates. In this way arose
those immense estates, sorae of thera railes in extent,
which were found under the Erapire, in the place of
the sraall farms of the Republic. As these could be
worked more profitably with slave labor than with
free, the slaves everywhere drove out their free compet
itors. This in turn produced another evil. As the
estates became extravagantly large, and the quality
of the labor correspondingly poor, farming ceased to
be profitable. Grazing took its place. The luxuriant
cornfields and the broad orchards gave place to immense
meadows, in the midst of which stood the prison-like
dweUings of the slaves.
As the country districts became depopulated the
cities became crowded.''^' Those who could not raain
tain theraselves flocked into the larger towns, especially
to Rome, and an immense dependent population was
thus gathered together.'^'^' DEPENDENTS.
The mass of the Roman population thus consisted
(13) Merivale; ch. xxvii. (i'') Mommsen; I, 365.
i^.V) Beginnings of Christianity ; Fisher, 193.

320 THE WORLD L7TNG IN WICKEDNESS.
of two most unmanageable classes, slaves and men
dicants. Let us consider them in order.
(i.) Slaves: Araong the 12,000,000 native Ro
raans under Augustus there were scarcely 2,000 pro
prietors,'^^' and it is reckoned that inthe entire Empire
there must have been 60,000,000 slaves, of which
13,000,000 or more were in Italy. '^^' These creatures
were not regarded as men, but as so much insensate
property. The slave was not supposed to have a free
will nor any claim whatever upon the justice of his
raaster, nor any capacity whatsoever for virtue in hira
self. Such had been the sentiment of the world, and
its wisest men had from the first defended it. Aristotle
justified slavery on the ground that some men are
capable only of bodily labor.'^' Varro in his work on
agriculture naraes three kinds of iraplements for tillage:
the durab, such as wagons; those that utter inartic
ulate sounds, such as oxen; and those that talk.'*^''
The slave then is siraply an instruraent for tillage.
Even Cicero, writing to a friend concerning the death
of a slave, apologizes for his feelings concerning him.
Speaking of one of the prsetors who had caused a slave
to be crucified as a punishraent for some slight offense
in the chase, he significantly says, " this might, perhaps,
seem harsh.'''' The slave had no rights; he could not
hold property, and therefore he could not be prosecuted
for theft. He could not contract marriage, and no
action could be brought against him for adultery. He
was not supposed to have any relations, and although
(18) Merivale; ch. iii.
(19) Mommsen; III, 494.
(20) Outlines of Greek Philosophy ; Zeller, § 62.
(21) Ulhorn; 1 32.

DEPENDENTS 32 1
it might be said of him that he had a father or children,
the language possessed no legal meaning. His testi
mony was not admitted in a court of justice, and if it
was to be taken he was first subjected to torture.
Slaves were bought and sold, given and received, inher.
ited and bequeathed, according to caprice or need.
They might be hired or lent, and if the one to whom
they were coramitted treated them badly, it was not
regarded as an injury to a person; but merely as a
deterioration of property, and the loss was made up to
the owner. The slave market was conducted as a
cattle market, and its contents when purchased were
assigned according to their capacities to some handi
craft or art, and even to begging or the brothel. They
were often chained in front of the gate as we chain our
dogs. In the museum at Naples there is a cast of a
Porapeian slave, which was raade by filling the cavity in
which the body had rested with plaster, showing the
iron band about his waist to which the chain was
fastened. Slaves who cultivated the fields suffered severely.
They worked in chains and spent the night on the darap
ground of their prison houses. But their condition
was scarcely as bad as that of the slaves who labored
in the great factories, in their scanty clothing and their
heavy chains, corapelled to toil all the day in the filthy
workhouse without respite.
Certain pictures which have been given to us by the
authors of the time reveal the condition and sufferings
of these poor people. There was nothing to prevent
an irritable or drunken master from exercising his
cruelty upon an innocent slave except the pecuniary

32 2 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
loss which he might suffer, and this could be but little,
as the market was glutted with the coramodity. A
slave who had given offense might be sent to the arena
or flung to the fishes. Juvenal speaks of those who
employed an officer by the year to lash their slaves,
and who was permitted to go on with his cruel work
until the scourge dropped frora his hand from very
weariness. Women seem to have been as oppressive
in their treatment of their slaves as men. A woman
of violent teraper furnishes a slave to be crucified with
out even the inquiry as to his innocence. Another
lays the whip over the bare shoulders of the maid who
is dressing her hair. Cato sowed dissension among
his sla^'es in order to prevent them from conspiring
together; and after a supper which he had given to
certain guests he took his whip and laid it upon those
servants who had failed to do their part to his satis
faction. The slave must often stand the whole night
long behind the chair of his drunken raaster to render
the raost repulsive services, and if he should so much
as sneeze or cough and thus disturb the peace of his
raaster, woe to him! He might be scourged until the
blood came for some slight offense. The emperor
Caligula caused a slave who had made a trifling mis
take at a public spectacle, to be thrown into prison
for several days in succession, and then executed
him because his wounds were offensive. Another
noble Roman conderaned a slave who carelessly broke
a valuable vase at a banquet in the presence of the
emperor Augustus, to be thrown to the fishes. But
even this was not the worst. According to the Roman
law when a master was killed in his house all the slaves

DEPENDENTS. 323
who had spent the night under his roof were executed
if the murderer was not discovered, and this law was
in force until the time of the Empire. ''^^' A Roman
prsefect in the time of Nero was murdered and 400
slaves of both sexes and of all ages, even little children,
were put to death.
We can scarcely estimate the demoralization which
ensued in consequence of this system, which, always
evil, was especially evil under the system that obtained
in heathen countries. The slaves themselves could
not be other than that which they were considered to
be. As they were supposed to be incapable of virtue
they naturally becarae dishonest and licentious. The
influence of their character spread to the freemen as
well. Inasmuch as children were largely comraitted
to their care, the contaraination of the youth of the
Erapire becarae very rapid, and the generation grew
up in a farailiarity with all that was treacherous and
vile. Such then were the members and such the con
dition of the first class of dependents in the Roman
Empire. (2.) The second class were the mendicants. This
consisted of a multitude of vagabonds who had rushed
to the cities — especially the capital city, from all quart
ers, for the purposes of pleasure or of crirae, and in
order to be fed at the public expense. Not less than
200,000 persons were supported by donations frora the
government of money and provisions, to whom are to
be added those who made mendicancy a profession,
and who picked up their living by begging or by theft.
A terrible contrast was exhibited between the extremes
(22) The Beginnings of Christianity ; Fisher, 209.

324 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
of wealth and poverty, as they presented themselves to
the eye in the chief city of the world — opulence and
luxury upon the one hand and extreme destitution upon
the other. In the early days of the Empire grain was
delivered to the Roman citizens at a moderate price;
but the emperor Claudius passed a law which provided
for its gratuitous distribution. Those who depended
upon the public distribution of wheat multiplied from
year to year, and as each successive ruler naturally
courted favor with the people the tendency to become
dependent naturally increased. At certain times the
effort was made to reduce the number. It reached
320,000 in the days of Julius Csesar. '^^' Afterwards,
through the deportation of colonies, it was reduced to
100,000. But the constant tendency was toward
renewed and rapid increase. On an appointed day of
the raonth each person enrolled in the list received his
check for five bushels of wheat, and this amount was
measured out from the public storehouse to every one
who brought and showed his credentials. These checks
were frequently sold, especially as the meastire was so
large that it was more than enough for a single person.
In addition to the grain, gifts of raoney were often
bestowed by those anxious to retain their power, and
even boys became the recipients of the benefaction.
It must be remerabered that this was not benevolence,
inasmuch as no one but a Roman citizen was taken
into account. The gifts were not bestowed upon the
poor or the sick or the otherwise needy, but upon
strong and healthy men fully able to earn a living for
theraselves. It is siraply to be regarded as a portion of
(23) Mommsen, IV, 591.

GAMES. 325
the spoils of a conquered world which the Roman
authorities considered it just to bestow upon the
Roman people. The character, as well as the amount,
of the gifts improved with the deraand. In the days
of the emperor Augustus the people demanded wine in
addition to their wheat ; and at a considerably later day
bread, already baked, and oil were distributed.
Thus the mass of the people lived by alms, while
the pampered few who possessed the wealth revelled
in incoraparable luxury. The great raiddle class
had been swept frora Roraan society. Those who
attempted to earn their living were dependent not
upon wages, but upon such gifts as their patron might
bestow upon thera, and even they, while rendering the
raost conteraptible services, were often subjected to the
most shameful and degrading treatment. The great
mass of the people, however, lived in an idleness which
was well nigh complete, and if not possessed of means
were supported by the state. GAMES.
Such were the chief features of Roraan social life,
inasrauch as they included the larger part of the popu
lation ; but they were by no means the most demoraliz
ing and disgusting. Other features were in keeping
with them, parts of the same degraded system. As
the vast population of Rome was not only hungry but
idle, it became a necessity to provide for its occupa
tion; so that the condition of Rorae at this period has
been justly characterized in the association of two words
which represented the cry of the Roman populace —
" Bread and Games!'''' These were the two things to
which they felt that they had a right, and as they

326 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
deraanded the food so also they demanded the amuse
ment. Those in power found it well to occupy in this
way the attention of the people, and thus divert their
thoughts from the loss of their liberty. The great
gatherings of the circus and of the araphitheatre
took the place of those forraer asserablies in which
the Romans had convened to regulate their public
affairs. These entertainments were provided at an
enormous expense, by the emperors who furnished
them. Even the most econoraical felt obliged to
provide for them, and the most inflexible were forced
to yield to the pleasure of the people. The circus in
the day of Julius Csesar furnished seats for 150,000
men; Titus subsequently added seats for 100,000
more.'^' Here were exhibited foot-races, feats upon
horseback, and an entertainment similar to that of the
raodern circus, accorapanied by the grossest indecen
cies.'^^' The characteristic thing, however, was the
chariot-race, in which the greatest interest centered.
Gladiatorial contests also furnished a spectacle of which
the Roraans were passionately fond. In these, men,
often in large .numbers, fought to the death with each
other or with wild beasts, for the arausement of the
spectator; and the demagogues of the Empire vied
with each other in their efforts to minister to the popu
lar passion. Julius Csesar, 65 B. C, caused not less than
320 pairs of gladiators to engage in raortal combat.
In the games which Augustus instituted 10,000 raen
were engaged, and they were celebrated for 66 days
(24) Fisher, 212.
(25) Merivale, xli, in which is a fine description of the general social
state at Rome.

GAMES. 327
together. Titus gave the people a festival which lasted
100 days, and Trajan one which lasted 123 days.
In connection with these games the people were fre
quently feasted in a manner more magnificent than
usual. The slaves of the eraperor carried about raeats
and wine on broad platters or in huge baskets. Figs,
dates and nuts were thrown araong the people, and
roasted fowls were distributed.
The gladiators who took part in these garaes were
conderaned criminals, prisoners of war, slaves, and
those who had adopted the life as a profession. It was
a coramon thing for masters to condemn their slaves
to the arena for some slight breach of discipline, and
gangs of gladiators were kept by private persons, who
either exhibited them themselves or hired them out to
such as desired them for their entertainments. Gladia
torial schools were established in various places, notably
at Capua, for the training of those who were to fight
in the arena. Great establishments were conducted
with this end in view, provided with their corps of offi
cials, physicians, fencing-masters, and the artisans who
made or repaired the weapons. The gladiators them
selves were subjected to a rigid training and a careful
diet, and were securely lodged in cells from which they
could not escape. Skeletons of such gladiators have
been exhumed from the ashes of Pompeii, with their
iron fetters still upon them.
Gladiatorial entertainments were conducted with the
greatest pomp. On the night before the festival the
people streamed into the arena in order to secure seats;
for, immense as it was, it was yet difficult to obtain
one of the places provided. A religious service intro-

328 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
duced the sports, in connection with which a great
procession, led by the magistrate who gave the games,
entered the enclosure, the leader seated in his chariot
followed by the images of the gods. The lower seats
were set apart for the senators, in the midst of which
was the gallery of the imperial family. The entertain
ment began . with a procession of gladiators in full
armor. They marched about the arena, halting before
the eraperor, whom they thus addressed: "Ave,
Csesar, Imperator, raorituri te salutant." At first there
was a shara fight, which was soon followed by the se
rious sport, which was conducted in terrible earnest.
The vanquished gladiator begged for his life by hold
ing up a finger. The spectators decided his fate. If
they turned down their thumbs (^pollice verso^, this
was the signal for the fatal stroke. Women, and even
timid girls, were accustomed to give the sign without
hesitation. After the death blow had been given the
slaves touched the body of the murdered man with hot
irons, to be sure that his death was not pretended ; then
he was dragged out to a room where those who were
found to be still alive were put to death. In the inter
vals between the battles the ground was turned over in
order to hide the blood, and was covered with a new
coating of sand.
But these battles between single individuals only
whetted the unnatural appetites of the Romans for the
exhibition of the horrible upon a larger scale. Specta
cles of this kind were therefore furnished, and magnifi
cent battles were given in the amphitheatre, which was
sometimes flooded with water in order that the fight
might be waged between mimic ships of war. Julius

DOMESTIC. 329
Csesar celebrated his triuraph by a battle of this sort,
in which 500 footmen, 300 cavalry and 20 elephants
with men upon them, engaged. This was only the
beginning of a series of encounters between bodies of
men, which the succeeding emperors instituted for the
diversion of the people.
Such was social life in the Roraan Erapire in the
tirae of Christ, brutal in the extrerae. We turn away
frora such scenes as it presents with loathing; but that
which causes our most emphatic disapprobation is not
so much the fact that such things existed, as that they
received the approbation of the noblest men of the age.
Pliny, Seneca and Ovid seeraed to regard such things
as trivial raatters, rather to be coraraended than con
demned, especially as those who engaged in them were
usually slaves or criminals. Such was heathenisra in
its most cultivated age. Society was absolutely bereft
of compassion. " It was the glory of Athens " says
Archdeacon Farrar, " that she alone had reared a soli
tary altar to Pity."'^' But the people of that age
regarded pity as a weakness. Even their women
gloated over the agonies of the dying gladiator and the
tortures of the executed slave. The " dark places of
the earth were full of the habitations of cruelty."
DOMESTIC.
There were darker and deeper vices than those
which have been observed, existing in connection with
the domestic life of the people; but there is no occasion
to dwell at length upon the details. The Apostle
Paul, in the passage quoted at the opening of this
(26) Witness of Histoiy of Christ ; 174.

330 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
chapter, has given an explicit description of the picture
of doraestic immorality which was furnished by the
tiraes. Marriage had fallen into deeper and deeper
contempt. '^'^' The freedom of single life was preferred
by both sexes. Seneca went so far as to affirm that
marriage was only contracted in order that adultery
might afford additional charra, and declared that who
ever had no love affairs was to be despised. Unnatural
vices prevailed.'^' Statesraen, judges, generals and
eraperors were guilty of them, and a degree of tolera
tion was granted to them which in raodern tiraes would
render the perpetrator an outcast frorn society.
Woraen abandoned themselves to excesses in which
they vied with men. Even those of the aristocratic
classes became dissatisfied with lovers of their own
rank and sought others among the ver}' dregs of the
people, such as slaves and gladiators. '^^' They lived
in the midst of obscene luxury. Their time was con
sumed with defiling gossip; they surrounded theraselves
with buffoons; they paraded the town clothed with
indecent garraents; they perfumed themselves with
raost fragrant odors, '^''' and their nights were passed
at banquets frora which raodesty had been banished.
Ladies of high birth even enrolled themselves in the
police registers that they might abandon themselves to
license. The Emperor Augustus himself'^'' experienced
what he regarded as the crowning sorrow of his life in
the shameless deportment of his own daughter Julia;
and in his old age the sorrow and shame was renewed
('3") Mommsen, iii, 502. (30) Mommsen, iii, 509, 607.
(¦28) See Fisher, 205. (-31) Merivale, xxxviii
(2fl) De Pressense, 427.

DOMESTIC. 331
and doubled in the similar indecencies of a grand
daughter who bore the same illustrious name.
In such a state of society, even if raarriages were
celebrated, the children were few in nuraber. They
were not desired in advance and they were not wel
comed when they appeared. As there was no sense
of the sacredness of human life infanticide was com
monly practiced. The right of parents to destroy
their children was recognized both in law and in prac
tice. Although there had originally been a law among
the Roraans forbidding their destruction, it had become
obsolete. The destruction of unborn children was
even more commonly practiced than infanticide, and
not only did moral disintegration ensue in the destruc
tion of family life, but the very foundations of the
state were undermined in the decrease of the native
population. The rulers of the world set the example to their
subjects, theraselves engaging without sharae in the
most shameless vices. The emperor Augustus endeav
ored to promote marriages by legal enactments. He
issued edicts against adultery and offered a bounty to
those who would take wives ;'^^' but he hiraself lived
in the open practice of adultery. He courted the wives
both of Msecenas and Livy,'^' and his palace gates
stood open to the abandoned.
The consuls who gave their naraes to the law against
celibacy were neither of them married; and thus the
attempt upon the part of the state to regulate the
morals of society was known to be a gigantic fraud.
(32) Merivale, xxxiii.
(33) De Pressense, 423; Merivale, xxxv.

332 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
RELIGIOUS.
But the raost disheartening thing in connection with
the iraraorality of the heathen world, as raay indeed be
gathered from what appears already, is that it was
directly associated with the practice of religion. The
people did but imitate the example of their gods.
Mercury was a robber; Hercules a gladiator; Jupiter
a debauchee and Venus a courtesan of the lowest class.
The old gods who, in the early ages of Greece and
Rome, had been invested with a certain majesty, were
now degraded to the lowest rank in consequence of
the awakening conscience of a people, who, though
hopelessly corrupt, yet retained some knowledge of
the true and good. What could be expected of a
people who built a temple consecrated to the worship
of a feraale divinity in which a host of abandoned
feraales were kept as a part of the religious establish
raent.'^'^^' What can be thought of a people who
dared not utter aloud the prayers which they whispered
in the ears of snch gods and goddesses as these } '^^' The
raorals of the gods were attrocious; what else could
the morals of the people be.'' Licentiousness was a
part of their worship. Indecent songs and symbols
attended their religious festivals. The closed roora
of the museum at Naples, to which reference has been
made, contains certain votive offerings of clay and
marble, and even of bronze, which may not even be
described in these pages. So early as the year 189
B. C, after the Bacchanalian orgies had been trans
ferred to Rome, 7,000 persons united in observing them
at one time, and the consuls were obliged to suppress
(31) Fisher, 198. (3^) De Pressense, 434.

RELIGIOUS 333
the ceremonies inasmuch as they involved not only
gross debauchery but murder and other crimes of
violence as well.'^^' Livy mentions the case of a certain
prsetor who condemned to death in one }'ear 3,000
poisoners whose crimes were the outgrowth of their
religion. Men became murderers and robbers in con
sequence of religious principles; and thus upon all
hands the tide of religious corruption swelled the tide
of moral corruption which beat against and overturned
the barriers of social order and domestic purity.
This is a gloomy picture, but it has been impossible
to paint it in the colors which really belong to it. It
would be an offense to make quotations from either
Christian or heathen writers which should suitably
depict the condition of the age. We must leave it to
the reader to attempt to conceive of a state of things
as foul and unnatural as it is possible for him to
imagine, and even then, he who has spent this life in a
Christian country will not so much as approach the
truth. Those only who have seen life as it is exhib
ited in heathen countries of to-day can adequately
picture to themselves the horrible extent of raoral
corruption which existed in the Roman empire in the
age in which the Redeemer appeared. It raay all be
suraraed up in the words of its own writers. Seneca
says: "All things are full of iniquity and vice. More crimes are
committed than can be remedied by force. A monstrous con
test of wickedness is carried on. Daily the lust of sin increases,
daily the sense of shame diminishes. Casting away all regard
for what is good and honorable, pleasure runs riot without
restraint. Vice no longer hides itself. It stalks forth before
(36) Merivale, xxii.

334 THE WORLD LYING IN WICKEDNESS.
the eyes. So public has iniquity become, so mightily does it
flame up in all hearts, that innocence is no longer rare; it has
ceased to existP
Lucian exclaims:
"If any one loves wealth and is dazed by gold; if any one
measures happiness by purple and power; if any one brought
up among flatterers and slaves has never had a conception of
liberty and truth; if any one has wholly surrendered himself to
pleasures, full tables, carousels, lewdness, sorcery, falsehood and
deceit, let him go to Rome."
Surely the apostle Paul was not misled when he
characterized the people of the age in a single sentence :
" Foolish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers lusts and
pleasures, living in malice and envy, hateful and hating one
another." Into such a gulf of depravity has the world been
brought. It has no power to help itself. If it is ever
to be redeeraed its redemption must come frora above.
The need of a great deliverer has becorae sadly and
certainly apparent. Surely the great deliverer will soon
be manifested.

Chapter XIII.
"THE FULLNESS OF TIME."
The Apostle Paul says, writing to the Galatians,
" When the fullness of the tirae was corae God sent
forth his Son." '^' While this expression is not else
where repeated in exactly the same forra the thotight
which it contains is frequently expressed in the New
Testament. The prophecies of the Old Testament had
themselves indicated that the Redeeraer would appear
at the most suitable juncture in the history of the
world. The writers of the New Testament declare
that this fitting juncture occurred at the precise
moraent when Jesus was laid in the raanger. " All
things were ready " for the proclaraation of the Gospel
when Jesus himself actively entered upon his work, and
he himself began his ¦work with an announcement simi
lar to that which the Apostle afterwards employed.
He carae into Galilee, as Mark informs us, " Preaching
the Gospel of the kingdora of God, and saying. The
time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is at hand."'^'
We shall observe in the present chapter the justifica
tion of such expressions in the peculiar circurastances
of the age in which Christ appeared. We have already
traced the history of the preparation of the world for
his coming, and observed as our studies progressed,
the increasing need of a deliverer and the increasing
prospect of his appearance. If nothing else were to be
(i)GaLiv:4. (2) Mark, i: 15.

336 " THE FULLNESS OF TIME."
added we should conclude that the deliverer appeared
at the opportune hour. But we are now to observe
certain particular additional features from which we
judge that the Redeemer came at just the right
moraent, and are therefore bound to draw certain
conclusions with regard to the careful providence
of God. In these particular features there appears
a sort of crisis in the history of the world, in which
crisis it would seem that the Redeeraer raust come, if
he is ever to come, inasmuch as it is not likely that
such a juncttire of circumstances, so favorable to his
coming, shall ever again occur in the history of the
world; and looking back upon that time frora our pres
ent standpoint we can certainly sa}' that no such junc
ture has occurred up to our own day.
It might not be possible for us to locate the very
hour or even the very year in which the Redeemer
must appear, except as we are guided by the Scripture ;
but even withotit the Scripture, we should be able to
locate the opportune tirae within the limits of a single
generation, as indeed it was located by those who had
no such understanding of the prophecies of the Scrip
tures as ourselves, namely; the Jews of that age and
the Gentiles of the same age as well.
What are the features to which we refer.?
THE JEW IN HISTORY.
Before answering this question it will be well for us
to recall the particular features connected with other
significant junctures in the history of the world, in
which, as we have seen, the Alraighty intervened with
some new dispensation or some additional revelation

THE JEW IN HISTORY. 337
of his truth. Such were the following: The occasion
of the Chaldsean ascendency; the culmination of
Egyptian power; the golden age of Babylonia; and
following these, sirailar periods in the history of the
Persian, the Macedonian and the Roman Empires. It
is a raost reraarkable fact that in every such juncture
the Jew was present — using the word "Jew " as descrip
tive of the people of Israel during their entire history.
When Chedorlaomer the first great Oriental conqueror
extended' his carapaigns to the west, he was con
fronted and humiliated by Abraham the father of the
Jewish Nation. When Rameses the Great came to
the throne he found the Jew in Egypt, and his son and
successor was confronted by Moses. Asshurbanipal, the
Assyrian, came in contact with the Jew as represented
in the northern kingdom of Israel. Nebuchadnezzar
the Babylonian was the instrument in the hand of God
whereby the Jew was to be cured of his idolatry. Cyrus
the Great, founder of the Persian monarchy, issued the
edict for his return frora captivity. Alexander the
Great, the Macedonian conqueror, treated the Jew with
distinguished consideration, and marks the initial point
in his intellectual transformation; and Julius Csesar,
the founder of the Roman Empire, comes into friendly
contact with him again and again.
The great movements of raankind, therefore, seera
to be always intimately connected with the people of
God. The Jew outlives his conqueror; the Jewish
nation survives the nations which brotight it into sub
jection; and from secular history alone we should be
bound to conclude that God had some mighty purpose
in connection •with the people which has had so singu-

338 "THE FULLNESS OF TIME."
lar a history. We recall therefore the old text recorded
more than fourteen hundred and fifty years before the
birth of Christ and with which we introduced our studies :
" When the Most High divided to the nations their
inheritance, when he separated the sons of Adam, he
set the bounds of the people according to the number
of children of Israel."'^'
We have already seen that this strange contact of
Israel with the dominant races of the earth has always
had some clear connection with the coming of the
Saviour, either in the preservation, purification or unifi
cation of the chosen seed through whom Christ should
come; or in the preparation of the heathen world for
his reception in the day of his appearance, and it is a
raost significant fact that the historical student of the
present age is most absorbed with those periods in the
life of the great empires at which they touched the
history of God's own people.
In these junctures of providential history we observe
certain coramon features, such as the culraination of
political power, the culmination of idolatrous worship,
and the culmination of immoral practices, and we have
observed the same in connection with the age in which
Christ appeared; but in a degree surpassing that which
had been exhibited at any previous period. In the
recurrence of these comraon features, and especially in
their more intense manifestation, we should be led to
expect some such intervention of divine providence
as occurred upon like preceding occasions. But in
addition to these common features there are other
special features in which the fullness of time more par
es) Deut. xxxii: 8, 9.

EXTENT OF JEWISH DISPERSION. 339
ticularl}' appears. These features are both positive
and negative.
1st, Positive. At the time of the Saviour's coming
the Jew was not only at the center, as he had been upon
previous occasions, but he was everywhere. The Jewish
people had been scattered abroad over the whole earth,
and wherever they appeared it was as witnesses to the
truth of God and to the hope of Israel.
EXTENT OF JEWISH DISPERSION.
Among those who gathered upon the day of Pente
cost at Jerusalem, the author of the Book of Acts in
forms us, were "Jews out of every nation under heaven,"
and he gives the long list of nationalities represented
by that remarkable gathering: " Parthians, and Medes
and Elamites and dwellers in Mesopotamia and in Judsea
and Cappadocia, in Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and
Pamphylia, in Egypt and in the parts of Libya about
Cyrene and strangers of Rome, Jews and Proselytes,
Cretes and Arabians."'^' Nor is the description of
this writer an extravagant one. Jcsephus says that
" there is no country on earth where the Jews are not
a part of the population." The geographer Strabo
says, " Already a Jewish population has entered
every city, and it is not easy to find a place in the
habitable world which has not received this race and
is not possessed by them." They were very strongly
represented in the countries into which they had been
carried captive. Babylonia and Assyria. We ha'V'C
seen that they were very numerous in Egypt where
they constituted more than one-eighth of the entire
(*) Acts ii:9-ll.

340 " THE FULLNESS OF TIME."
population, and where they had spread in great num
bers as far west as the city of Cyrene. They had spread
frora Northern Syria into Asia Minor and had thence
crossed over into Europe. They were found in Crete
and Cyprus and in other islands of the Mediterranean.
Large colonies of thera lived in Macedonia and Greece,
in such cities as Athens, Corinth and Phillippi. They
had gone still further west in great numbers and settled
throughout Italy. Puteoli had a large Jewish popula
tion. It is now definitely established that they had
seven synagogues in Rome. They were found in Gaul,
and penetrated even to Spain and Britain. Over this
vast extent of territory, reaching frora the River Indus
on the east to the Pillars of Hercules on the west, and
frora the River Tharaes on the north to the African
desert upon the south, these representatives of the
religion of the Jehovah and of the hope of redemption
were to be found. '^'
JEWISH EXPECTATION.
But these Jews had been taught loyalty to Jehovah,
and so, although scattered among all nations, they were
not corrupted by their idolatries. They still continued
to hold to their common creed, their coraraon center
and their common hope. In every place where there
were ten male householders who had leisure to give
themselves to regular attendance, they established their
synagogue,'^' and where there was no synagogue, there
was at least a regular meeting-place under the open
sky, generally outside the town and near to some river
or lake, whose waters might be used in their purifica-
(5) Merivale, ch. xxix. (6) Edersheim's Messiah, I, 75.

JEWISH EXPECTATION. 341
tions. And the Jew was regarded as a stranger and
sojourner in every land wherein he dwelt, even although
he knew that his whole life was to be passed therein.
His home was the Land of Canaan; the common cen
ter of the dispersed of Israel was Jerusalem the City of
God. The Jew both of the East and of the West,
joined in fervent exclaraation, " If I forget thee, O
Jerusalem! let my right hand forget her cunning."
This was not merely a raatter of patriotism; it was a
religious principle, the foundation of a great spiritual
hope. In Jerusalera alone men could truly worship,
and therefore the pious Jew in every land turned
toward the Holy City as he offered his prayer to God.
From every synagogue the temple tribute was sent up
to Jerusalem often accorapanied by liberal voluntary
offerings. Those who could coramand the means
undertook at some time, and in many cases repeatedly,
a pilgriraage to the city of their God.
As the years passed on those hopes of the Jews which
centered in Jertisalem became the more intense. This,
not raerely because of their increasing faith in the
coming of the Messiah; but also because the coming
of the Messiah meant to them the restoration of Jewish
dominion and a return of the dispersed Israelites to
their own land. Every devout Jew was accustomed
to pray day by day for the gathering together of the
dispersed at the call of the Messiah. In the Talmud,
Israel is likened to the olive-tree which is never stripped
of its leaves. The storm of trial sweeps over it not to
blast it, but to purify it; and thus Israel's persecutions
had served to keep them from being mixed with the
Gentiles that they might not be destroyed. The day

342

¦I HE FULLNESS OF TIME?'

would come when they should all be brought back and
not a single Israelite be missing. The nations would
conspire to honor them, and the bounds of their own
land would be extended until they erabraced all
the territory which had been originally proraised to
Abrahara. It was in the view of such expectations
as these that the Apostles frequently questioned
the Saviour as they did even after his resurrection:
"Wilt thou at this tirae restore again the kingdom to
Israel .?"'^'
In the generation preceding the Saviour's birth
these hopes and expectations became fully ripe. The
Jew believed that at any moraent the glad tidings
might be announced that the Messiah had corae. He
believed that the signs of his advent had already
appeared, and that the Messiah might be even now in
the land, ready to manifest hiraself so soon as Israel
should repent and thus prepare the way for his appear
ance. At any hour his banner might be unfurled upon
the top of some mountain and his trurapet sound to
call his people to his side. Again and again they asked
theraselves "Why does he delay his coming.?" The
painful question is again and again discussed by the
Rabbis. And the usual answer is, " Because Israel
does not repent of her sins." At the same time, how
ever, the pious Jew did not believe that his coming
would be indefinitely delayed on this account. It was
the final opinion among the Rabbis that the time of the
Messiah's coming depended upon the simple mercy of
God, and that when the set tirae to favor Zion should
arrive, the Messiah would appear; that his coraing
('i')Actsi:6.

JEWISH EXPECTATION. 343
would not then be retarded by the moral condition of
his people.
In such a state of mind they waited for him, and in
such a state of raind they were found when he actually
appeared. The calculations which they had raade,
founded upon the Old Testaraent prophecies, had gen
erally fixed the tirae of his appearing within the liraits
of the very generation in which he was born.'^' To
such expectations is to be assigned those manifestations
of enthusiasra such as were displayed by the Zealots,
that fanatical band of nationalists who atterapted to
revive the old Maccabean spirit and deliver the people
of God frora foreign domination; out of which had
arisen certain false messiahs of whora Judas of Galilee
(A. D. II ) was most conspicuous. Such persons could
scarcely have secured a following in any other age, and
the fanaticism which they manifested was due to the
fervency of their hope and their confident expectation
of the speedy appearance of the true Messiah.
The condition of Jewish expectation is very strikingly
exhibited in the single fact that at this juncture and
in consequence of these expectations the population of
Jerusalem, the center of the Jewish hope and the focus
of Jewish influence, amounted according to Josephus,
upon the occasion of their great festivals, to the enor
mous number of three millions of souls. With all the
false views of the Jewish Rabbis, their false interpretation
of Scripture, and the fanciful or secular theories which
they had adopted in connection with the prophecies
of the Old Testament, it is nevertheless apparent from
these facts, taken in connection with that which we
(8)Zz> of Christ; Geike, ch. vi. Edersheim, I, 82, 170.

344 "THE FULLNESS OF TIME."
have already observed in preceding chapters, that the
Jewish world at this particular juncture was ready for
the raanifestation of the Messiah and that the fullness of
time had come.
JEWISH INFLUENCE: HEATHEN MONOTHEISM.
But the Jews, in consequence of their world-wide dis
persion a nd the size and importance of their colonies,were
now exercising a greater influence over their heathen
neighbors than they had ever before exerted. We have
observed how the best religious thought of the heathen
world had moved through a great orbit, in the course
of which, starting from priraitive raonotheisra, it had
passed through naturisra to polytheism and thence
returned to monotheism again. But its course had
been a spiral rather than a circle, and the movement
had from the first been both a returning and a descend
ing one; so that whfle it had inclined to the same
quarter it had reached a very much lower point than
that from which it had originally started. It had
passed through the different phases of religious belief
to that condition which we have already observed, in
which the very multiplicity of its gods had insured the
destruction of all of thera together, and the excess of
religious forras had brought about general skepticisra
and despair. At this juncture, which occurred in final
forra in the very age in which Christ appeared, the
best minds of heathenism had substituted for the faith
in the old religion a kind of monotheism, which was
abstract and indefinite, philosophical in its tenets and
cowardly in its utterances. The attempt had been
earnestly made to so apprehend the popular religion

JEWISH INFLUENCE: HEATHEN MONOTHEISM. 345
as to reduce polytheism to a higher unity which was
believed to lie at its root. As the reason, in the course
of its speculations, was obhged to recognize this orig
inal unity as a fundamental necessity, polytheism either
p;oceeded out of it, or raust be reduced back to it — the
gods raust be derived from one original. Thus Plato
had derived all existence frora One " who is hard to
find, and whora, when found, it is impossible to make
known to aU." The effort was raade to rescue faith
from the total wreck which seeraed to threaten it. The
philosophers held to one divine priraal essence, which
they could scarcely distinguish from the world. Its
worship appeared to them to be the first truth upon
which every subsequent fabric of superstition had been
erected. Varro declared that the only true thing in
religion was the idea of a rational " Soul of the world,"
by which all things were moved and governed. He
traced the origin of Roraan superstition to the intro
duction of idols, and laraented their use. So Strabo also
believed, describing Moses as a great reformer in that he
opposed iraage-worship and established religious forms
of a spiritual character. Yet he says, " This one Supreme
Essence is what embraces us all — water and land; the
heavens, the world and the nature of things." So also
the elder Pliny, who, absorbed in the contemplation of
nature, attempts to adore an infinite creative spirit,
which manifests itself in its works. The chasm, how
ever, between this Creator and its creatures he confesses
he is unable to bridge. These theories were not held
simply by a narrow and select circle. They were
widely disseminated. Their apostles journeyed as far
as the very apostles of the Lord, and, in the same age

346 "THE FULLNESS OF TIME."
as they, circulated their opinions with a zeal often char
acterized by fanaticism and associated with pretended
supernatural powers. The whole Roman world looked
upon their gods with suspicion or explained away their
separate personality and listened with avidity to such
as proclaimed that there was soraewhere One whora
they knew not and perhaps could not know; but con
cerning whora it was at least their duty and privilege
to enquire.'®' By raeans of this monotheism, therefore,
providence had prepared the way for a total renuncia
tion of heathenism and the adoption of the belief in one
living and true God which the Jew was ready to impart
to his bewildered fellows. The heathen among whom
these Jews dwelt in great numbers were rapidly raade
acquainted with their religious practices. The syna
gogue was open to them if they cared to attend its
services, and the Jew, especially the Grecian Jew, had
abandoned that cold and narrow exclusiveness which
had formerly characterized hira, and had now become
anxious to bring the Gentile to the knowledge of the
truth — so much so that the Saviour himself described
even the Jew of Palestine as " compassing sea and land
to make one proselyte."''"' PROSELYTES.
In consequence of this state of thought proselytes
had rapidly raultiplied in the generation iraraediately
preceding the birth of Christ. Numerous persons,
raany of them of the cultivated classes, turned with
derision frora the heathen religions to embrace the
Jewish doctrines. Woraen in particular showed a
(9) See the Introduction to Neander's Church History.
CO) Matthew, xxiii: 15.

PROS EL YTES. 347
decided inchnation to the Jewish faith. Edicts against
the Jews were kept secret by the rulers lest the women
should betray them. Thus the synagogues were
largely composed of proselytes.'"' There were three
distinct classes of them.
First; those who submitted to circuracision, and
became incorporated with the Jewish people, who were
called '•'¦Proselytes qf Righteousjiess.'''' The nuraber
of these was comparatively small.
Second; a class known as '¦'¦Proselytes of the Gate.''''
This class ¦were not bound by circumcision and did not
observe the special laws of the Mosaic code; but they
renounced idolatry and worshipped Jehovah; they
abstained from things strangled and frora blood ; and
in other ways, sirailar to these, adhered to the Jewish
community and shared in its faith.
Third; a class who were not, strictly speaking,
proselytes, but who are known by a term usually ap
plied to them in the New Testament as '¦'•devout per
sons.''"' These favored the worship of Jehovah, and
endeavored to some extent to cultivate the morality of
the Jewish religion.
In the increasing numbers of these proselytes, who
were found wherever the Jews theraselves were found,
is recognized one of the peculiar features of the fullness
of tirae. In a raultitude of cities throughout the world
they were ready to furnish a community in which
Christian truth might find a lodgment and the Chris
tian Church be organized. HEATHEN HOPES.
Still further, and apart frora the special influence
(11) Mommsen's Provinces ; Book VIII, ch. xi.

348 "THE FULLNESS OF TIME."
which the Jewish people were now exercising, there
was a general influence of the Jewish faith which found
expression in the hopes of thoughtful heathen, which
while they may not be distinctl}- traceable to Jewish
sources, were unquestionably inspired thereby. At
this very juncture the heathen themselves were looking
for a deliverer, and by many it was supposed that this
deliverer should appear among the Jewish people. The
eyes of Greece and Rorae were turned toward the East.
The cycle of the ages was said to be completed; and
the Golden Age of the world was expected to return.
Suetonius and Tacitus both report a widespread ru
mor that the East should become powerful and the
dominion of the world be assigned by fate to the Jews;
and the Roman legions which Titus led against Jerusa
lem, looked upon the Holy City with a certain super
stitious awe, some of thera even deserting, because
they expected sorae extraordinary divine aid to be
given to it.''"' The fourth eclogue of Virgil, which
was written in the ver}' generation which preceded the
coraing of the Saviour, also reflects the expectation of
the heathen. The poet celebrates a child who shall
restore the Golden Age, in pictures which must have
been derived, either directly or indirectly, from the ninth
and eleventh chapters of the prophecy of Isaiah. The
best authorities consider that Virgil could not have
had in mind a son of PoUio, or any other person of his
own age, as fulfilling his expectation; but adapted the
predictions of the inspired prophet to express the hopes
of his own countrymen.''^'
(12) Conflict of Christianity with Heathenism ; 80.
(13) See Merivale, ch. xxvii.

EFFECTS. 349
Such, then, were the hopes of both Jew and Gentile,
and such the readiness for the reception of the Messiah,
and all this culminating in the very generation in which
Jesus was born. The very temple of God at Jerusa
lem, where services were conducted in Hebrew, yet
placarded certain announcements in Greek and Latin —
a sufficient indication of the concentration of the eyes
of the world upon that sacred enclosure. The condi
tion of the world finds its embodiraent and coraplete
expression in a single person afterwards chosen as the
Apostle tothe Gentiles — Saul of Tarsus: A Jew by
birth, a Greek by education, and a Roman citizen by
inheritance; a participant in all the hopes of Israel, a
student of the literature of Athens, a subject of the
privileges of Rome — he illustrates the completion of
the preparation which in the providence of God had
been made for the introduction of the Gospel.
But while Paul may have been the most suitable
man of his age for the work to which he was called of
God, it raust not be forgotten that there were raany
others who had received a like training and who
enjoyed the same privileges. The Scripture is indeed
full of references to the men of peculiar character and
attainments which the age had produced, and to their
peculiar hopes and aspirations. Apollos, the great
orator of the apostolic age, and who, in some of the
places in which he labored, divided the honors with
Paul hiraself, had received an education not unlike
that of the great apostle. He was a Jew by birth and
had an intiraate acquaintance with the Scriptures; but
he wasborn at Alexandria, the great center of Grecian
ism, and had traveled extensively through the Roraan

350 "THE FULLNESS OF TIME."
¦world. The character of the age is also illustrated in
a number of minor characters to whora we are intro
duced in the New Testament; the Greeks who came
up to worship at the Feast of the Passover and who
desired to see Jesus; the Roraan centurion who built a
synagogue at Capernaum; Cornelius a meraber of a
very distinguished farail}' and the pious captain of the
Italian Band at Csesarea; and the Ethiopian eunuch who
carae up to Jerusalem to worship. Indeed, both .the
Saviour's birth and the Saviour's death are associated
¦with incidents whic h minutely refiect the character of
the age, and illustrate the fullness of time. While
Jesus lay in the manger at Bethlehem the Wise Men
carae frora the East inquiring for hira "who was born
King of the Jews,"'"' and when his work was finished
and his "hour had corae," he was betrayed bythe
sons of Shera into the hands of the sons of Japheth;
but his ponderous cross was borne to the sumrait of
Golgotha upon the stalwart shoulders of Simon the
Cyrenian, who, if not a son of Ham, at least repre
sented the continent to which the children of Ham had
been assigned. And finally when the Saviour of the
world hung upon the cross in mortal agony, the inscrip
tion placed above his head and intended to define the
crirae for which he suffered, " was written in Hebrew
and Greek and Latin. "''^' Thus had the Hebrew, the
Greek and the Roraan involuntarily displayed the
exact adaptation of the crucifixion to the hour, and
deraonstrated the fullness of tirae.
2d, Negative: Some of the negative features of the
(14) Matt, ii: I, 2.
(IS) Conybeare and Howson; Vol. I, ch. i, Title. John, xix: 20.

THE DEIFICATION OF THE EMPEROR. 351
fullness of time have been already set forth in the pre
vious chapters; but we have reserved for the present
one, the consideration of their culmination in a certain
form of idolatry and immorality, in which the iniquitous
unbelief of the heathen world reached its final ex
pression. THE DEIFICATION OF THE EMPEROR.
The climax of all iniquity was reached in the deifi
cation of the emperor. Divine honors have often been
paid to kings and others of conspicuous station; but
the form which this idolatry assumed under the Csesars
was peculiar, and deserves close examination. Its
special development began and was corapleted under
Augustus, and in consonance with his own well defined
plan. In the defeat of Antonius at the battle of Actiura,
Octavius becarae the raaster of the world. He was
still a young raan, only 32 years of age. His dazzling
success had turned the heads of the Roman people,
frora the humblest commoner to the highest patrician,
while his own head, if it were itself turned, still
manifested the subtle composure for which the heir of
Julius Csesar had been distinguished frora his youth.
There can be no doubt that he was meditating the
coraplete subjugation of the entire Roman world to
himself, and the consolidation of all its offices in his
own person ; but he succeeded in restraining the raani-
festations of his personal ambition, and thereby contrib
uted to the sure and speedy accomplishment of its
object. The Romans, wearied to death with the devas
tating wars of rival factions, were ready to welcome

352 "THE FULLNESS OF TIME:'
a dictatorship, especially if its incumbent manifested
the moderation which had been long displayed in
the career of Octavius. It therefore came about
that before his return to Rorae they lavished their
honors upon hira, and courier after courier was dis
patched by the Senate, bearing to hira the successive
decrees which it had passed with enthusiastic acclaraa-
tion. He was perraitted on all occasions to wear his
triuraphal insignia — the scarlet raantel and laurel crown;
a quinquennial festival was instituted in his honor; his
birthday was to be commemorated with religious rites,
and the priests were ordered to add his narae to the
sacred formula in which they besought the safety of
the city. These were only a portion of the honors
which were showered upon him, by which the way was
being prepared for his exaltation. ''°' Octavius was
wise enough to remain away frora Rorae while his
friends were thus surrounding his narae with this gla
mour, and shrewd enough to return at the very moraent
when the initial stage of the popular enthusiasra had
reached its height, and his personal presence was neces
sary to advance it another degree.
In the year 29 B. C, two years after the battle of
Actiura, he appeared in Rorae. He was accorded a
triple triuraph of the utmost raagnificence; and at its
close he proceeded at once to perform such ceremonies
as should betray in his own shrewd and subtle way his
devotion to the gods and his assimflation with thera.
He sacrificed to Jupiter of the Capitol; he dedicated a
teraple to Minerva; he opened the basilica of Julius
Csesar with imposing ceremonies, placed therein a
(16) Merivale, xxx.

THE DEIFICATION OF THE EMPEROR.

353

statue of the goddess Victory, and dedicated the shrine
of Julius on the spot where his body had been burned
to its ashes. This was but a beginning of a systeraatic
work, in the prosecution of which he restored many of
the teraples of the divinities and erected others, enriching
all with the spoils of his conquests. He was playing a
deep game in which he plotted to capture the people
through their holiest sentiments; and the people, alas!
whose holiest sentiments were now sadly despoiled and
almost exterminated, were taken captive unawares.
Octavius was already himself their idol; he would
soon become their god. Already they regarded hira as
the source of their prosperity and the surety of their
peace; it would be a very natural process by which
they should come to regard him as invested with* the
very attributes of deity.
In this attitude of the Roman people it was no shock
to their sensibilities when they learned that Octavius
had permitted the people of Nicsea and Ephesus to
erect temples to the joint worship of Rome and Julius
Csesar. They were actually flattered by his restric
tion of his own worship to his eastern subjects; and
so the work of corruption went on.'*'''
In the same year the conqueror entered into a
pretended deliberation of his relinquishment of the
supreme power. It ended, however, according to his
own well-concealed design, and he accepted with
feigned reluctance the honor which hi? friends thrust
upon him, becoming perpetual Imperator. He was
now, by no act of his own, the military raaster
of Rorae and of the world, and Rorae and the world
(17) Momsen's Provinces, Book VIII, ch. viii.

354 "THE FULLNESS OF TIME:'
acknowledged it. Other offices of distinction were
soon added. He accepted the powers of the Censor
ship, while he declined the specific title attached
to them. A year later (B. C. 28) he was appointed
Princeps Senatus, or Prince of the Senate; in which
position he enjoyed the privilege of speaking first on
any question proposed, and thus united the most
iraportant civil power with the chief railitary office.
He celebrated his advanceraent with the display of
utmost liberality. He increased the portions of grain
bestowed upon the people, he elevated many persons
frora common to noble rank, and thus made himself
appear as the fountain of honors, advancement and
wealth. Octavius now sought for some single title in which
might be expressed by a single word the sum of the
honors which he enjoyed and the offices which he filled.
It must be a new title, such as had been borne by no
one before him; but such as should express both his
own estiraate of hiraself and that of the admiring
populace. At last he fixed upon the epithet '¦'¦Augus
tus,'''' a word which had never been applied to any
thing but the most sacred objects, such as the altars
of the gods and the cereraonies of religion. This illus
trious title was bestowed upon him in January, B. C,
27, in his thirty-fifth year. It was the first decided
step in his deification, for which all that preceded was
the logical preparation.
In stiggesting it, he himself, and in awarding it, the
Roraan people indicated the hopelessness of their
departure frora God. They had just declared the
deification of Jtilius Csesar — the first apotheosis since

THE DEIFICATION OF THE EMPEROR.

355

that of Romulus. Note this fact ; but raeanwhile be
very careful to observe that transpiring, as it did at
this particular juncture, its whole significance is con
nected with Augustus rather than with his predecessor.
It was the initial act in his own deification. The peo
ple were prepared for this by the provincial worship
of Julius. They themselves now worshipped at his
shrine; and Augustus was his heir! After this the
moveraent was easy and rapid.
Following the decree which gave him his title,
Augustus left Rome upon a tour of the provinces. On his
return the progression from his substantial to his actual
deification was continued. In B. C. 23, his countrymen
conferred upon him the Potestas Tribunitia, by which
he became the acknowledged chief of the people as he
already was chief of the Senate. Frora early days the
persons of the tribunes were considered sacred, and to
offer one of thera violence was a capital crirae. This
inviolability was now transferred to the eraperor, and
while it increased his power over the people, it con
tributed also to the veneration with which the}'
regarded him, and promoted that adulation which was
fast ripening into positive adoration. In the same year
he accepted the Potestas Consularis, or consular pow
er, for life. The senate decreed that he should occupy
a seat between the two actual consuls at all assemblies,
their equal in office, but their superior in honor; and
thus much raore than a primus inter pares; rather the
supreme magistrate of the city.
Augustus was now the acknowledged head of every
departraent of the state but one. It only reraained for
hira to become high priest and all earthly power

356 "THE FULLNESS OF TIME:'
would be in his hands. In the year 12 B. C, his aged
colleague, Lepidus, died; and the office of Pont f ex
Maximus, which he had held, becarae vacant. Augus
tus might easily have possessed hiraself of it before the
death of Lepidus, but his shrewd raoderation was again
displayed in his aspirations for the honor, and as usual
only rendered the honor the more certain. The office
was at once bestowed upon hira, and thus the control
of all religious raatters passed into his hands. His
power was now complete. He ruled the whole circle
of life and controlled its every element throughout the
extensive dominions of a mighty empire. At last he
had reached the goal which he had set before himself
in his youth. He had attained it by a consistent prose
cution of the systematic plan which he had adopted
when he returned from the East in tritimph, after the
defeat of Antonius, and set himself to the task of cap
tivating and conquering the people through their relig
ious sentiraents. He airaed from the first to secure not
only their allegiance but their adoration. He believed
in his own divinity, and he deterrained that the Roraan
world should believe in it also. He would rule that
Roraan world through their devotions. So mounting
upon their foundation of mihtary, civil and judicial
offices, irapressing upon each the forra of his own pre
tended piety, he reached at last the suramit of a high-
priesthood which was at once martial, raagisterial,
judicial, iraperial — a high-priesthood such as no man
had ever filled before; the glittering embodiment of
human imbecility upon the one hand, as the royal high-
priesthood of Christ is the glorious embodiment of
divine wisdora on the other.

EXTENT AND SIGNIFICANCE. 357
There was now no hindrance to the practical deifi
cation of the emperor. It had already been suggested
in connection with the apotheosis of Julius Csesar that
Augustus himself enjoyed an effluence frora the deit}' ;'*^'
but now the opinions of his subjects took other shapes
than those of mere suggestion. Altars were raised to
hira ; and in the provinces temples were erected and
societies organized to promote his worship.''^' The
aborainable blaspheray invaded even the Ploly Land
itself; and the City of Samaria, for many generations
the rival of Jerusalera, becarae its rival in a deeper and
raore desperate sense, by containing a temple built for
the worship of Augustus.'*"'
At last in the year 14 A. D., this " August " Emperor
passed away and the senate decreed what they raight
long ago have enacted but for the characteristic shrewd
ness of that singularly shrewd raan, who cared little
for the form so long as he enjoyed the substance — the
senate decreed his absolute deity.
EXTENT AND SIGNIFICANCE.
Such then was the crowning iniquity of the Roman
world, the final forra of heathenisra. The blasphera}'
which had been coraraitted many tiraes before in his
tory, in the divine honors paid to princes, was now
coramitted in a peculiarly forraal and emphatic way.
It furnished a suitable climax to the progressive deter
ioration of the religion of the Roman Erapire and was
its natural conclusion. It was simply the logical out
come of that degradation of the gods and disbelief in
(18) Encycl. Britt,, -• Augustus:'
(19) Merivale; xxxiv; xxxvi; xxxix.
(20) Life of Christ ; Geike, ch. iv.

358 "THE FULLNESS OF TIME:'
thera which had been brought about by their multipli
cation, together with the exaltation of raan which had
been promoted by the extending conquests of Rome
and the increasing power of those who had achieved
them. The Roman ruler had been glorified; the
Roraan gods abased — that is all of it. Sorae who lived
near enough to the eraperor to know his frailties sneered
at his lofty pretensions and ridiculed the decrees which
translated hira to the skies; but the vast raajority of
the teeraing raillions of the Erapire received their new
god with cordial approbation and rendered hira sincere
service. In doing so they honored the power which
had given peace to the world and to which they owed
the security of their persons and possessions. They
becarae zealous in their worship of the divinity of the
eraperor in just the proportion that they became pros
perous under his protection. Moreover the imperial
worship supplied a state religion to the whole empire
and displaced the rites which were purely local or
relegated them to the background. The statties of the
emperors becarae raore conspicuous and were raore
reverenced than those of the tribal gods; and the
iraperial priests exceeded all others in nuraber. Even
in the ancient seats of worship in worshipful Greece
itself, were placed the iraages of the eraperor. Their
teraples arose even in Delphi and Corinth; and the
Olympian Zeus divided the honors in his own temple
with the Roraan Eraperor.'^''
Such was the extent of this new idolatry; what was
its significance.? It meant that the whole world had
given itself up to the worship of a mere man. It
(21) Conflict of Christianity with Heathenism ; Ulhorn, Book I, ch. i.

EXTENT AND SIGNIFICANCE. 359
meant a radical and universal inversion of truth and
holiness. God was dethroned; raan was enthroned.
" They changed the truth of God into a lie, and wor
shipped and served the creature rather than the Crea
tor, who is blessed forever. Araen. "'^'
If then we remeraber the character of the times in
which Almighty God had before appeared to intervene
in behalf of his people and his truth; to reconstruct
society, and to introduce a new and better era, we can
not resist the conclusion that the same elements of
immorality and idolatry which characterized those
times have now appeared in raore terrible forra than
ever before, and the world is again ripe for intervention.
But still more. This deification of the emperor raust
be considered, as in the present chapter, in connection
with the dispersion of the people of God. The nega
tive and the positive must be joined in a single
view of this particular juncture. The worship of the
emperor had a distant connection with the expectation
and faith of Israel, and the ensuing conflict gave char
acter to the age. However tolerant the Romans may
have been in other religious raatters there could be no
concession in this. The time had corae when no cora
promise could possibly be effected between those who
worshipped the creature and those who worshipped
the Creator. The people of God could not be cora
pelled even by Roman law to worship any of the older
divinities of Rome, but the law of the Empire impera
tively demanded the adoration of its head. There was
no escape for him who refused, inasmuch as a refusal
implied both disloyalty and impiety, each in the highest
(23) Rom. iv:4.

360 " THE FULLNESS OF TIME."
degree. Although the full severit}' of these regu
lations did not appear until after the death of Christ,
yet the principle which controlled them was definitely
inaugurated when Octavius assumed thetitle of Augus
tus. Frora this must be dated the beginning of the
final conflict. It is a repetition of the crisis in which
Pharaoh exclairas " Who is Jehovah that I should obey
his voice .'^" in which Nebuchadnezzar sets up his
golden iraage and coraraands its universal veneration.
But this is the final crisis, that of which the preceding
were but prophecies. In the providence of God the
unification of the world has been accoraplished for this
very purpose. Its separate nations ha\'e been brought
under a single governraent, that go^•ernraent is in the
hands of a single raan and that man has assumed a
divine title and demands divine horaage. But among
these nations there exists another nation whose raera
bers forra a spiritual kingdom, worship the invisible
God and look for a divine deliverer. These two forces
are arrayed against each other now; and employing
the word in a sense already explained, the world is
brought to the eve of an awful duel: Jehovah against
idolatry; God against hirn who would be god; Christ,
the deliverer, against Csesar, the enslaver of the souls
of raen. This is what was signified when Octavius
took to hiraself the sacred epithet of the gods.
Surely, then, it is the very fullness of time. If the
Redeemer is ever to come to Zion it does seem as if
he must corae now. If the deliverer is ever to be
raanifested to Israel it would seera that he must now
appear. And indeed he has appeared! The angels
have sung their songs over Bethlehem, and the decree

EXTENT AND SIGNIFICANCE. 36 1
of the deification of Augustus is promulgated at the
point midway between the birth of the deliverer and
his baptism. The final conflict is indeed inaugurated
and the final victory is foreshadowed. By and by it
will be acknowledged in the despairing dying cry of one
of the last of Roman emperors, " Nazarene! thou hast
conquered."'- '
(23) See Ulhorn; Book III, ch. 3.

Chapter XIV.
JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION.
We have completed our sketches of the preparation
of the world for its Redeemer, and have been brought
in the course of our studies to the hour of his appear
ance. It reraains for us in this final chapter to show
wherein the Redeemer and the Gospel which he pro
clairaed, fulfilled the desires and satisfied the needs of
the waiting world: To do this at length would require
another volume. We can only suggest sorae of its
principal features.
Is there any single terra in which the whole history
of the heathen world may be comprehensively defined.?
Which shall erabrace in a word its study and its
strife.? its anxieties and aspirations.? its fears and its
failures.? May it not all be included in this single
clause — a struggle after the realization of unity ? Let
us undertake a reply.
THE STRUGGLE AFTER UNITY.
The heathen world, though it had lost the knowledge
of God, perceived as clearly as even we who stand
in the light of the Gospel, that both the physical and
the moral creation were in a state of division and
discord, but was unable to account for it, or correct
it. The effort of their thinkers from the first was to
effect harmonization. This is the explanation of all

364 JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION.
their philosophies; their theories of war, of govern
ment, of morals and even of religion.
I. PJiysical. In the first place they beheld mankind
divided into diverse races and hostile factions. The
natural inclination of each separate tribe was to make
war upon its neighbors. And yet in this condition of
rautual antipathy there always existed a vague belief
in the substantial unity of mankind, and the attempt
was raade again and again, often unconsciously, to
manifest that unity by artificial methods. This attempt
found its chief expression in the great empires. In
each the effort was made upon a separate and distinct
line, and each was to some extent an improvement
upon its predecessor.
In the most ancient times, the nations were strictly
separated from each other; each race lived and labored
for itself. There was no common work in which they
might experience a reciprocal influence and raake to
gether a common development. In the earliest erapires,
force — brute force — was the only agency eraployed,
and its results were the raost unsatisfactory.
With the overthrow of the early erapires their suc
cessors undertook the introduction of intellectual ele
raents, and we have noted the improveraent in the
condition of the subject races under the Persian and
Macedonian dorainion. Finally appeared the Roman
erapire, the best solution of the problem which it was
possible for the world to offer. It was the heir of its
best thought and its best raethods, as they had been
expressed in the empires which preceded it; and it
added to the physical and intellectual eleraents which
had been introduced before, certain moral elements

THE STRUGGLE AFTER UNITY. 365
which were displayed in the final development of
Roman law. No more satisfactory attempt could
possibly be made without the aid of a divine revela
tion. But the unity of raankind was not yet manifested.
The old world had not been able to produce from
itself any such thing as we recognize in Christian uni
versalism. There was a degree of uniformit}' ; but no
illustration of that true unity which only prevails in
connection with those characteristic individual features
which Rome would have obliterated. True unity is
" a coraprehension of 'the manifold under a higher
principle of organization."'^' This was a limitation
which it was impossible for the thought of the heathen
world to pass. It looked at humanity frora the wrong
standpoint. Its centre was political, not religious — the
city of the Csesars, not the City of God. Consequently its
vie^w was from the circumference after all. It could not
understand huraanity as a whole, and therefore could
not understand it in its divisions. So the last atterapt
of the heathen world failed, after a noble struggle, as
all atterapts had failed before. Though one might
proclaim himself a ^'•citizen of the world,'''' the citizen
ship was an artificial one. Men do not become citizens
of the world until they becorae citizens of a kingdora
which is not of this world, and until the latter is real
ized they raust remain as before, " hateful and hating
one another."
2. Philosophical. There was also a struggle after
philosophical unity — a struggle as intense as it was
old. The book of Job furnishes a complete illustration
of the travail of soul into which one is brought when
(1) Ulhorn, p. 27.

366 JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION.
he attempts unaided to solve the problems which are
presented to him in the universe about him. Mind and
matter seera to be in eternal conflict. So soon as men
begin the study of nature they are made aware of
the existence of certain forces which seem to them to
be in irreconcilable antagonism. The one class seem
to make for righteousness and peace, the other for evil
and misery. Dualism is the necessary outcome of such
studies, and dualism, as we have seen, is the constant
blemish upon the best thought of heathenism, a blem
ish which the best thinkers of the heathen world were
unable to eradicate. In consequence of the perma
nence of this misinterpretation of the universe, all the
evils and mistakes of heathen philosophy were pro
duced: Parseeism, with its two supreme divinities —
Ormuzd and Ahriman; Polytheism, with its benevolent
and malevolent divinities; and, in its last stage, the
eternal conflict between Fate and Virtue'*' — the final
mystery and raisery of the heathen world.
3. Other forms of the sarae struggle were simply
manifestations in one direction or another of the effort
to effect this philosophical unity. The heathen world
attempted to realize it in some individual law of action
which should produce ethical unity, but they found no
standard of raorals to which they might appeal, and
in obedience to which their burdened consciences might
be at rest. They sought obedience to what they sup
posed to be the will of the gods and the law of the
universe, in practices the most diverse — in some cases
noble and pure, in others shameful and abominable.
They endeavored to realize what we ¦would call
(2) Prophecy atid History , E^iersheim, p. 42.

UNITY THE KEY TO THE GOSPEL. 367
spiritual unity in some solution of the problems of
creation and causation. They asked themselves the
question, Who is the Author of all things.? Who is
the Supreme One, and what is he, and where does he
reside .? What does he expect of his creatures .? What
is obligation? How may we be brought into fellow
ship with him.? — "What must I do to be saved.?"
But the struggle was a hopeless failure. Discord
everywhere remained; unity was nowhere realized.
UNITY THE KEY TO THE GOSPEL.
When we regard the condition of the heathen world
with reference to its great comprehensive struggle, we
can give no better answer to the questions which we
have proposed at the beginning of this chapter, than
this: that unity is the key to the Gospel, and, in his
own comprehensive unity, '^' Christ Jesus is " The Desire
of all Nations" — the perfect fulfillment of their hopes
and the perfect answer to their desires. He himself
is the answer to all the questions which the world had
propounded. Wherein the answer?
I . The Gospel reveals one God besides whom there
is none other; the Creator of the universe, the supreme
object of adoration. Although he was clearly re
vealed to the Jews alone, yet, even in the Old Testa
ment, it is made plain that he is not a tribal God, as
were the gods of the heathen, but the " God of the
whole earth." In the Gospel, however, this truth be
comes luminous, and the words of Jesus, such as he
spake to the woman of Samaria, reveal him as the
God and Father of all.
2. The Gospel reveals one Race, with a common
(2) See Life of Christ ; Lange, Book II, Part ii, § i.

368 JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION.
ancestor, in whom it was made in the divine image,
and all its subsequent divisions the result of its sin.
3. The Gospel reveals sin as the one cause of all
sorrow ; so that sorrow itself is not the chief misfor
tune of the race; but sin, which is something more
and else than a misfortune.
4. The Gospel reveals one Redeemer, whose blood
is shed for all mankind, and in union with whom all
mankind are to be re-united. In him the "middle wall
of partition is broken down." He is the one Master
in whose presence all raen are brethren, and his is the
one Kingdom in which all men may be fellow-citizens.
5. The Gospel reveals one destiny, unto which the
race as such, together with the earth, its peculiar
dwelling-place, is finally to be brought. At last there
shall be but "one flock and one shepherd."
The whole design of the Gospel is concisely and sig
nificantly expressed in the words of Paul to the Ephe
sians: "Endeavoring to keep the unity of the Spirit
in the bond of peace! There is one body and one
Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling;
one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father
of all, who is above all, and through all, and in you all."'*'
As a certain great philosopher, when he was asked to
give in a single sentence the sum of all philosophy,
taking up his Bible and turning to the words of the
Apostle, in the last verse of the eleventh chapter of
Roraans, answered: " Of Him, and through Him, and
to Him are all things, to whora be glory forever.
Araen. "'^' This is the answer of the Gospel.
(4) Eph. iv; 3-6. (5) Rom. xi: 36.

UNITY BY RECONCILIATION. 369
But we are here confronted with a very important
question: How is the unity of the Gospel actually
effected.? The answer to this question forms the con
clusion of all the study in which we have been en
gaged. We have seen upon the one hand how the world
was left to itself to work out an experience in which
it might prove at the same time its own helplessness
and its need of a divine helper; and we have seen
upon the other hand how a single nation was chosen
to be distinguished from all other nations of the world
only in this, that it should receive certain positive
divine revelations. Humanity had consequently been
moving along two lines altogether diverse from each
other, yet tending to the same end; and while, as we
have seen, there was some association between the
two classes, their work and place in the providence of
God were each peculiar and distinct. It was neces
sary that there should be upon the one hand, the most
painful sense of sin, the most intense desire to know
the truth; and upon the other hand, that there should
be such knowledge of God and of his benevolent pur
pose in connection with the race as should incline the
raind to a certain hope of deliverance. Without the
first, a sinful world would not have accepted the
means of deliverance which was in store for it; and
without the second the expectation of deliverance
would have been so vague and confused that it would
have commanded neither respect nor reception.
The great mission of the heathen world in the provi
dence of God was to teach man to know himself. The
great mission of the Jewish world was to teach man

370 JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION.
to know his God. Each was incomplete in itself. The
knowledge of self and the knowledge of God both
were necessary before unity could be effected; but
when both should be acquired, unity would be effected
in the reconciliation of the only elements that were
actually at variance. At the cross of Christ this two
fold knowledge was completed, and the mission of
both the Jew and the Gentile world accomplished.
The cross of Christ sets forth the final conclusion of
heathen philosophy — a conclusion which heathen phil
osophy itself was unable to express. The cross of
Christ also sets forth the final conclusion of Jewish
revelation in terms which even the Hebrew prophets
had been able only to foreshadow. It shows man him
self; it shows man his God. Nowhere else in all the
universe is there such an exhibition of the nature of
the sin of man and of the extent of its guilt; nowhere
else is there such an exhibition of the justice and the
mercy of God. Here, and only here, "mercy and truth
are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed
each other."""
The cross of Christ, therefore, presented the only
answer to the great problem of heathenism, in that it
set forth the only real source of discord and the only
reliable method whereby unity might be effected. Man
and God were the elements at variance — man in his
sin, God in his holiness. The cross of Christ brings
them together. It introduces a mediator, the missing
factor in all heathen philosophy, the exclusive revelation
of divine religion. "In Jesus Christ," says Pascal, "all
contradictions are reconciled." The Gospel represents
(6) Ps. lxxxv: lo.

UNITY IN THE INCARNATION. 37 J
God as now reconciled to man, and beseeches man to
be reconciled to God. If this be accomplished all is
accomplished, and there is an end of all discord. Man
is not only reconciled to brother man, but he is recon
ciled to the whole universe. The very war of the
elements is in process of abatement, and the collision
of physical forces is arrested. Man goes out ¦with joy,
and is led forth with peace; the mountains and the
hills break forth before hira into singing, and all the
trees of the field clap their hands. '^' All things con
spire to a single blessed end, and work together for
good to those who have first been reconciled to God.
It is for these reasons, then, that we call the cross of
Christ a comprehensive unity; it speaks the message
of reconciliation. In it the two paths upon which
humanity had been led, converge at a point which is
central, both as to place and time, in the history of the
world. Thus, whether raen will receive it or not, the
cross of Christ divides that history ; Calvary is its focal
point and "Jesus and the resurrection " is its ke}'.
UNITY IN THE INCARNATION.
But there is an element in addition to mere recon
ciliation in which the unity of the Gospel is effected.
This element is implied in reconciliation, as its conclu
sion and its crown. It expresses the answer of the
Gospel to heathenism on the practical side, as reconcil
iation expresses that answer upon the philosophical;
and while it is itself the supreme product of revelation,
it furnishes a beautiful and striking contrast to the
supreme product of heathenism.
P) Is. Iv : 1 2.

372 JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION.
What was the supreme product of heathenism on its
practical side — the final outcome of its unbelief.? We
have already found the answer in the worship of the
emperor. We have also found that the worship of the
emperor is the last and most complete forra of an idol
atry, such as had often been observed, and in which it
had always reached its climax. Human impiety can
not reach a higher pitch of audacity; nor human
depravity a lower depth of degradation. This is posi
tively the end — self - worship ; the deification of man.
But we are bound to observe that this form of idol
atry is never manifested except in an age of great
intellectual activity and after a career of brilliant
wordly success. It never obtains among savages; nor
even among the semi-civilized. We have observed on
the contrary that it obtains in Egypt under her raight-
iest monarch; in Babylon under her "head of gold,"
in Rome under her " august " eraperor. It is evident
that it is not characteristic of fresh departure from God ;
but of that stage which succeeds to earnest thought
and prolonged speculation. It is characteristic of the
final struggle after truth, wherein the truth is earnestly
attempted; but attempted in a spirit which is totally
incapable of understanding it, and which therefore
results in the deeper error.
It has been true of the sinful race as a whole, as it is
often true of the individual sinner, that like the be
wildered wanderer, he is perchance never so hopelessly
lost as when he stands opposite the door of his own
father's house; but with his back, not his face, to the
threshold. It was this that constituted the fullness of
time and brought the heathen world within call when

UNITY IN THE INCARNATION. 373
the apostles went forth with the cry " The Kingdora of
Heaven is at hand." The thought of the heathen
world had swting round to raonotheisra again; which
while it was a monotheism cold, abstract and indefi
nite, nevertheless brought it within the reach of the
invitation of the Gospel. So also the practice of the
heathen world in the deification of raan, had raoved
on to the very meridian of the Cross, albeit at a point
which was absolutely antipodal. Nevertheless it was
the sarae meridian. The Gospel therefore contained
the answer to the deep desire which was thus expressed
— a blessed truth which was the perfect polaric con
trast of this accursed error. That truth was contained in
the incarnation. The error did not reside in the wor
ship of a divine man, but in the worship of a deified
man. The whole race, including the heathen world,
¦was seeking for a divine man. But like those old
Chinese sages who, following the universal yearning,
¦went forth to the west seeking a divine teacher and
brought back only Buddha ; so the search of the heathen
world ended not at the feet of the divine man, but at
the shrine of a deified one. The universal yearning,
however, is sufficient evidence that some such being
was a spiritual necessity. The seeking soul of heath
enism had been led sadly astray, in a long, long voyage
over a storray sea, and now sought to anchor in the same
treacherous shallows which it had before approached,
in its desperate self-deception, with no chart to guide,
and with a compass whose deviation they had no
raeans of compensating. Nevertheless the instinct
even of the heathen soul was not wholly obliterated,
and by means of that which remained of it, though

374 JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION.
sadly perverted, it was providentially guided to a point
whence the sea was clear and the course straight to
Hira who was at once very God and very raan, though
it led through a whole hemisphere.
Let us drop the figure and say in plain words that
the step from the worship of the eraperor to the wor
ship of God in Christ was both great and radical. It
was coraplete inversion. Instead of the worship of a raan
who sought to becorae god, was substituted the wor
ship of God who had indeed becorae raan. The wor
ship of the eraperor, therefore, prepared the raind for
the reception of the Gospel, inasmuch as the most sub
lime truth of revelation furnished the complete answer
to the final culmination of heathenism. While in the
worship of the emperor an external uniformity was
artificially created, the departure from substantial unit}'
was rendered all the greater. Man was separated yet
farther frora God and brought into deeper antagonisra
with hiraself by the pretended advancement of a man
to a position infinitely beyond his fellows. But the
very opposite is effected in the incarnation. God coraes
down to raen; God is raanifest in the flesh. The God-
raan becomes a perfect mediator, and absolute unity is
the blessed consequence. In that mediator God and
man are at one; not by any artificial elevation of man,
but through the actual condescension of God. The
exaltation of man follows as an iraperative sequence.
" The God of glory down to men
Removed his blest abode;
Men, the dear objects of his grace.
And He their loving God."
This is an assimflation to the divine absolutely unlike
in kind anything that heathenism ever conceived, and

THE PREACHING OF THE APOSTLES. 375
infinitely more complete. It is more than fellowship;
// is sonship. And this is the Gospel! This is the
meaning of "Jesus and the resurrection."
THE PREACHING OF THE APOSTLES.
In corroboration of the conclusions which we have
reached we adduce, finally, the preaching of the apos
tles. It will be observed that they apprehended the
situation and endeavored to meet it. We take, as an
illustration, what may be considered as the most cora
plete speciraen of apostolic preaching to the heathen
which is recorded — the address delivered by the Apos
tle Paul in the Areopagus. Let us observe the raethod
which he pursued in presenting Christ to them in the
very seat of their own false philosophy and mistaken wor
ship. ^'*' Let it be remembered that he had now reached
the chief intellectual centre of the ancient world —
Athens; which had given it language, thought and
beauty; which had taught it philosophy, rhetoric,
science and art ; where Socrates had lived and labored ;
where Plato had written the Republic, and from which
had emanated all of its raost iraportant theories. He
was obliged to wait in Athens for a few days for the
coraing of Silas and Timothy; and we read that "his.
spirit was stirred in him when he saw the city wholly
given to idolatry." He first conversed with the Jews
in their own synagogues, where he also raet certain
" devout persons," such as have been described in the
preceding chapter. He also disputed in the raarket
with the heathen whom he there encountered. Here
he met the representatives of the last great schools of
(8) See a fine Analysis in Schaff's Church History, § 73.

376 JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION.
Greek philosophy, the Epicureans and Stoics; and thus
the Gospel carae in contact with the final phast; of
thought inthe heathen world. Stoicism and Epicurean
ism — the one with its pantheism, the other with its
materialism, both with their pessiraisra, encountered
the religion of Jesus. Their feverish desire to listen to
soraething new is also expressed in their comments
upon his theories. " He seemed to be a setter-forth of
strange gods," and they were therefore anxious to hear
him at sorae length. He preached to thera, " fe.'^us
and the Resurrection :^' Jesus, the Mediator between
God and man; the resurrection of Jesus, as affording
the sure ground for the hope of immortality. The}'
brought him to the Areopagus, declaring that the}'
desired to know "what these things meant;" and
Paul, in the sermon which he delivered in response to
their invitation, sets forth in every sentence that he
utters, the answer of the Gospel to some characteristic
phase of heathen worship, philosophy or belief. His
first sentence is, " Ye men of Athens I perceive that
in all things ye are too superstitious," in which there
is a distinct reference to the endless multiplication of
their divinities. He proceeds to say that he had found
an altar with this inscription, " To the Unknown God,"
to which altar we have already raade several refer
ences. Notwithstanding their multitudinous deities, this
altar was, as Paul iraplied, the expression of their
virtual, though abstract raonotheisra. Standing in
that raagnificent city which had been the teacher of
the world, it sadly proclaimed that there was a limit
even to the knowledge of the wisest Athenians; that
there was one matter concerning which they were incap-

THE PREACHING OF THE APOSTLES. 377
able of instructing the world, and that matter the most
important of all. Such ignorance was dense and deadly.
If there was only one god whom they knew not, the
gulf in their knowledge was a bottomless abyss ! They
knew not God! In spite of the multiplication of their
gods and goddesses, this gulf was impassable. There
fore, this Unknown God Paul proceeded to declare unto
them. In the next sentence he defines him, in words
¦which are at once most concise and most coraprehen
sive. This Unknown God is the sole Creator, and the
Creator of all things. He is Lord not of one nation
ality, nor of one portion of the universe, but he is the
" Lord of heaven and earth." He is a spirit. "He
d'wells not in teraples made with hands." He cannot
be worshiped by the gross material methods which
they had observed. He is not in need of such offer
ings as they had been accustomed to render to hira.
He has all fullness in hiraself. " He giveth to all life
and breath and all things." The unity of God, as Paul
declares, iraplies the unity of the human race. " He
hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell
on all the face of the earth." He is the author of pro
vidence as well as the author of creation, and huraan
history has been ever subject to his control. " He
hath determined the times before appointed and the
bounds of their habitation." Then foUows a declara
tion for the sake of which this, our book, has been
written, in which the Apostle declares the divine pur
pose in his providence. " That they should seek the
Lord, if haply they might feel after him and find hira,
though he be not far from every one of us." The
difficulty in their search for God did not reside in his

378 Jesus and the resurrection.
distance frora them, but in their distance from him,
through the blindness which sin had produced. Then,
as he had declared that God was the creator of all
things, and so before all and over all, he now proceeds
to declare that God is also immanent in all things, " In
hira we live, and move and have our being;" and he
supports the declaration by a quotation from one of
their own poets. His conclusion is drawn with remark
able cotirtesy, as though he would give them the credit
for the argument rather than take it to himself. Allud
ing to the splendid monuraents of art in gold and silver
and marble, which stood in such profusion around him,
he taught thera, even frora that which they theraselves
had adraitted, that his fundaraental proposition should
also be their own final decision — that the God-head
could not be " like unto gold or silver or stone, graven
by art and raan's device." He had therefore come to
call thera to repentance. The tiraes of ignorance were
over; the times of certain knowledge were at hand.
This Almighty, Eternal, Invisible Spirit " had come
down in the likeness of men," in the person of that
" raan whom he had ordained." He had " given assur
ance tinto all men," in that this divine man had estab
lished his divine nature and claira by an actual resur
rection frora the dead, and an actual ascension to glory,
which infinitely surpassed in power as it challenged in
reality the apotheosis of the Csesars.
The offer of reconciliation was thus distinctly stated.
Should they refuse it they would be held to account in
that " day appointed of God " when he would " judge
the world in righteousness " by that very raediator
whom he had appointed and whora Paul had now
presented.

CONCL USION. 379
The sequel might have been anticipated. Some
mocked, while others listened with such interest
that they desired to hear him again. A number,
however, were convinced, believed and received the
Saviour, among whora were two iraportant persons,
one of thera a raeraber of the tribunal in whose court
the apostle had proclaimed the Gospel. Such, then,
was the preaching of the Gospel. This is a fair illus
tration of the way in which it was presented to the
people of that age. It meant, as in this address of
the apostle Paul, Unity; unity by reconciliation
through a mediator. It raeant forgiveness of sin
through his blood, and fellowship with God through his
person. The Epicureans and Stoics who listened to
Paul discovered that they both had sought for unity
and peace in a false reconciliation. In the preaching
of Jesus and the resurrection, the Gospel substituted
for the intense desire which they both manifested to
escape from sorrow, a deeper determination to be rid
of sin. It substituted for the pursuit of happiness to
which they were given, the development of holiness.
It substituted for the service of self, in which they
were engaged, the service of another. It transferred
the scene and scope of its hope from the present, in
which all their desires centered, to the future. It fol
lowed time with eternity. CONCLUSION.
And this is the preaching of Gospel still; the only
refuge of a sinful world. "Jesus!" the redeeraer of
raen; " The Resurrection! " eternal life in his presence.
A writer in a recent review'^' calls attention to the
(9) The Scottish Review ; Oct. 1889

380 JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION.
singular character and work of Florence Wilson, bet
ter known among scholars as Florentius Volusenus.
History has played fast and loose with his reputation,
but he was in his day a most distinguished man. He
was the protege of four cardinals, the confidential cor
respondent of Thomas Cromwell, afterwards Earl of
Essex, and enjoyed a wide celebrity araong other per
sons prorainent in both church and state. He is best
known to us by his once faraous work upon the Tran
quility of the Soul, originally published at Lyons, in
1543. Its form is that of a dialogue between himself
and two friends. The scene is laid in a garden, situ
ated on the heights overlooking the city of Lyons,
probably in the suburb called Fourviers. Here in a
shady retreat the three friends had met to while away
the hours of the day in sober and iraproving discourse.
Volusenus selects a subject at the suggestion of his
friends. Peace of Mind, and at their request proceeds
to explain its nature, its advantages, and the means of
acquiring it. After a variety of discourse upon the
subject, in which, after reviewing the teachers of phi
losophy and showing how they fail to produce the state
of mind which they all profess or at least aira to obtain;
he shows that in the teachings of Christianity alone
true peace of mind is to be found, and concludes with
the relation of a dream or vision which appeared to
hira, and from which we learned his own philosophy.
In this dream, which occurred in the happy days of his
youth, he saw a raagnificent teraple situated on a little
hill, at whose foot was a raeadow through which he had
been wandering. The temple was of great extent,
built with consumraate art, encircled with a wall. At

CONCLUSION. 381
its gate sat an old man of venerable aspect to whom
Volusenus applied for admission to enter. The request
was granted. The old man took him by the hand and
led him within the enclosure. Stopping at a porch
which was supported by eight pillars, he directed his
attention to the fact that each bore an inscription upon
it. Volusenus examined these and found that each
embodied a leading doctrine from some philosophical
school. The examination of these upon the part of
Volusenus leads to the conclusion that beautiful as they
may be in theraselves, and valuable to humanity, they
are hopelessly wanting in vital influence. Volusenus
thereupon kneels down and prays for light frora heaven,
showing the way to peace and rest. His prayer is
heard. Looking up he sees another hill higher than
the one on which he is standing; and on this hill,
reached by a straight and narrow path, there stands
another temple infinitely more beautiful than the first.
As he approaches its gates there meets hira a raan in
whose countenance shines a certain celestial majesty.
Saint Paul, for it is he, bids Volusenus be of good
cheer, and pointing to the inscription upon the front of
the temple bids him read it: "Blessed are they that
dwell in thy house." His guide then tells him that
this is the haven of rest for which he has been so long
in search, and directs his attention to the two colurans
which adorn the entrance. On one is inscribed the old
proverb of Greek phUosophy, " Know thyself;" on the
other, "Know thy God." Finally pointing to the arch
which these two colurans support he shows him sculp
tured there the image of Christ — crowned with thorns;
hi side, his hands and his feet pierced with wounds.

382 JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION.
and his body streaming with blood. Above his head
appear the words, " This is my beloved Son, in whom
I ara weU pleased; hear hira!" beneath his feet the in
scription, "I am the way, the truth and the life." Then
for the the first time Volusenus understood wherein
true tranquility of raind could be found, and awoke
frora his dreara.
Volusenus is the type of the thoughtful raan of the
ages, and his experience is that of all who have finally
arrived at rest. He is the type of all the raen of God
to whorn the knowledge of his salvation has been vouch
safed, whether they lived before Christ or after hira;
Abrahara, and Moses and David and Isaiah, as truly
as Peter and James and John and Paul. Job entered
the haven of rest by the sarae path; so also did Diony
sius the Areopagite. We are admitted by the same
door to-day. The entrance is between the two colurans
which were centuries in building and beneath the arch
of which Christ is the crown. Know thyself ! Know
ihy God! We must know each, and know both, as
they are brought together in the substantial unity of
the Redeemer and in the reconciliation of his cross.
The truth is made very plain by providential history
and absolutely lurainous in the Gospel. Blessed are
they that apprehend it, and looking up to that crucified
but risen Redeeraer pronounce in faith and love the
prayer of the penitent publican, " God be merciful to me
a sinner.''''

INDEX.

Abraham. — Preparation of World
begins with ii; His Migration,
12, 42; Providential History, 39,
308; Chosen of God, 42.
Abrahamic Races. — Other than
Jews, 47.
Actium, Battle of. — 260, 351.
Aholiab. — 117.
Alexander — And Syrian Desert,
18; Crosses Hellespont, 198; In
fluence, 199 seq.; Greek in spirit,
199; At Troy, 201 ; And the Greek
Colonies, 201 ; "Takes Babylon,
201 ; Colonizes the East, 201 ;
Death, 202; Effects, 203; Divi
sion of Empire, 205 ; Kindness to
Jews, 217; Effects, 219.
Alexandria. — Founded, 222; Jews
in, 223.
Allegorical Method. — Applied to
Homer, 231 ; Adopted by the
Grecians, 232.
A naximander. — 173.
Antioch.— YowciA^A, 207; Described
209; Jews in, 210; Christian
Church of, 211.
Antigonus. — Defeat of, 207.
Antonius. — 260, 318.
Aphobis (Apepi).— His Reign, 68;
Defeat of, 73.
Apocrypha.— Oi the N. T., 229.
Appian Way. — 270, 303.
Appius Claudius. — 270.
Apollos. — 349.
Arabia. — Ear'y Culture in, 54.
Arabs, Influence of, 49.
Aristotle. — Influence, 195; Friend
of Alexander, 198; Atheistic, 296.
Ark ofthe Covenant. — 135, 136.
Atomistic School. — 177.
Augustine. — View of the Logos,
240; Conversion, 306.
Augustus CcEsar. — Accession, 259;
Religious Efforts, 291; Wealth,
311; Peace, 314; Armies, 314;
Epicurean, 315; Gifts, 325;
Games, 326; Crowning Sorrow,
330; Immorality, 331; Deification,
351-
Avaris. — 66.
Baba.—fx).Babylon. — Under Nebuchadnezzar,
150; Fall, 155; Jewish Commun
ity, 227.

Bacchanalia. — 332.
Balaam. — 126.
Belshazzar. — 155.
Bezaleel. — 117.
Bondage in Egypt. — 81; Effects,
116.'
Brutus. — 260.
Bubastis. — 64.
Cadmus. — 52.
Caligula. — 315, 322.
Canaan. — Location, Size, Seclusion,
13; Sea Coast, 19; Highways, 20,
35; Springs, 25; Vegetable Pro
ducts, 27; Minerals, 30; Popu
lation, 31: Accessibility, 35;
Early Culture in, 53; Condition
at Conquest, 119; Land of Prom
ise, 125; Under the Judges, 129;
Conquest of, 130.
Capua.'- 270, 327.
Cato.—2g-^, 322.
Chaldaa. — In days of Abraham,
11,40; Language of, 53; Hebrews
return to, 149.
Christ.— Coming foretold to Eve,
121; to Abraham, 122; to Moses,
124; by Balaam, 126; by Moses
at Sinai, 126; Provision for his
Ancestry, 129; David's Son, 138;
Nathan's prophecy, 139; in the
Psalms, 140; in later prophets,
142; Symbolized, 144; Expecta
tions of the Pharisees, 145 ; Birth
at Fullness of Time, 335 ; Unity
in his Cross, 371.
Church. — Founded by Abraham,
II.
Cicero. — Religious views, 290, 295;
his Hortensius, 306; on Slavery,
320.
Claudius Ccesar. — 324.
Cleanthes. — Suicide of, 300.
Clement of A lexandria. — 305.
Cornelius. — 350.
Croton. — Colonized, 169; Seat Pyth
agorean Philosophy, 174.
Cyrus. — Conquests, 154; and Jews,
156.
Daniel. — 152, 247.
Daphne.— 209.
Darius Codomanus. — 202.
David. — Anointed, 138; Father of
Messiah, 138; Typical King, 138,
140.

386 INDEX.

Democritus. — 1 77.
Dualism. — In early philosophy, 1 74,
175, 295; in Platonism, 194, 196;
Eleatic, 176; General influence,
366.
Ebal, Mount. — 132.
Edomites. — 50.
Egypt. — Israel in, 62; under Hyk
sos, 63; under Pharaohs, 75;
Idolatry, 86; at the Exodus, loi;
Plagues, no; Subsequent condi
tion, 116. (See " Alexandria.")
Eilethyia. — 69.
Elamites. — 63.
Elea, School of . — 175.
Eli. — Priesthood, 136; Sons, 136;
Death, 137,
Empedocles. — 176.
Epicureanism. — Origin and char
acter, 297; at Rome, 298; An
swered by Paul, 379.
Exodus. — 114; Effects, 116.
Fullness of Time. — In days of Abra
ham, 41 ; of Moses, 86; of Daniel,
152; of Christ, 360.
Gaines.- 325.
Gideon. — 135.
Gladiators. — 326.
Golden Age. — 348.
Goshen. — 72.
Gmco - Jewish Literature. — 229
seq.; Forbidden to the Jews, 231.
Grecians. — 215 seq.; True hybrid,
217; Date from Alexander, 217;
Progress, 219; at Alexandria, 223;
Septuagint, 225 ; Relation to other
Jews, 228, 245. (See "Philo.")
Greek Language — Derivation, 52;
Providential Extension, 167, 197,
271.
Greek Philosophy. — 171; Thales,
172; Anaximander, 173; Pytha
goras, 174; Xenophanes, 175;
Empedocles, 176;. Democritus,
177; Sophists, 178; Socrates, 181.
Greeks. — Mission of, 167; Colonies,
169; Providential purpose, 170;
Colonies and Alexander, 201;
Succeeding Immigration, 203;
Effects, 203; in Antioch, 207; in
Rome, 211, 280, 283, 311; Influ
ence on Jews, 213; in Alexandria,
214, 222; in Palestine, 221; Ro
man Conquest, 253; Corruption
of Morals, 313; Inquire for Jesus,
37. 350-
Hebre-w Race. — Chosen, 43: Vigor,
43; Language, 51; Monotheism,
56; Investiture of, 127. (See " Is
raelites." "Jews.")

Hebron. — Described, 34; Founded
66.
Heliopolis. — Potiphar's home, 70;
University, 94.
Hellenism. — Origin, 200; Effect on
Jews, 213. (See "Grecians.")
Hittites. — Treaty with Rameses,
82; Power broken by Rameses,
ng.
Hope of Israel. — Early hopes, 121 ;
Development in Wilderness, 123;
in Plains of Moab, 125; in Da-
vidic Times, 136; in Psalms, 140;
in Hebrew decline, 142.
Human Sacrifices. — 42.
Hyksos. — 63; Appearance, 65; Dy
nasties, 6-]-, Expulsion of, 72; De
scendants' rebellion, 102.
Idealism, — Eleatic, 175, 176.
Ideographic Language. — 51.
Ten-Moshe. — 92.
Ipsamboul. — 78.
Israel. — Meaning of the name, 62;
Led into Egypt, 62; in Goshen,
71; Oppression of, 81; Adoption
of, 105, 124; Royal Priesthood,
124; Covenant at Sinai, 125. (See
" Hope of Israel," " Hebrew
Race," "Jews.")
Jaddua — 217.
Jericho. — 26, 117,
Jesus Christ. — (See " Christ.")
Jews. — Babylonian Captivity, 157;
Multiplication of, 161; Roman
Citizens, 269; in Providential
history, 336; Dispersion of, 339;
Expectations of, 340; Proselytes,
346. (See "Grecians," "Israel.")
Jezreel. — 32.
Jochebed,— qi.
Job, Book of— 2,6$.
Jordan. — 'Valley described, 14.
Joseph. — In Egypt, 62; Regency,
69; Famine, 69; Marriage, 70;
Brethren, 71, 72.
Joshua. — Military Ability, 117;
Conquests, 130; at Mt. Ebal, 132.
Judges. — I2g, 133.
Julius Ccesar. — In Gaul, 253, 256;
Character, 254; in Spain, 256; Pom
pey, 257; Influence, 258; Roman
Citizeiship, 269; Religious
Views, 292, 293; Mendicants, 324;
Games, 326, 329
Juvenal. — 323.
Khamus . — 102.
Khartunimim , — 1 09,
Koran. — 48, 227.
Latin Language, — Derivation, 52;
Extension, 271.

Lebanon. — 19, 24.
Lepidus. — The Consul, 312; The
Triumvir, 356.
Levites. — 135, 143.
Zzwj.— 331, 333.
Logos.— Oi Philo, 239; of St. John,
240, 244.
Lucretius. — Religious Views, 293;
Epicurean, 299.
Lucian. — 334.
Luther. — Views '^f the Koran, 48;
Translation of Bible, 226.
Maecenas. — 33 1 .
Magicians. — Of Egypt, 109.
Marriage .--Va. Roman Empire, 330.
Mahomet. — 47.
Materialism. — In Greek Philos
ophy, 178.
Medes and Persians. — Origin, 153;
Character, 154; Religion, 156.
Melchizedek. — 143.
Memphis. — Capital of Hyksos, 65;
University, 94.
Meri. — See "Thermuthis."
Messiah. — See "Christ."
Midianites . — 49.
Miletus. — Greek Center, 169;
Thales, 172.
Mincean Language. — 54.
Mi7ieptah II. — Succeeds Rameses,
loi ; Deification, 107.
Monotheism. — Of Hebrews, 56; So
cratic, 189, 197; Intolerance of,
281 ; Heathen. 344, 373, 376.
Moses. — Divine Ambassador, 91 ;
Birth, 92; Training, 92, 94; Cam
paigns 97; Choice, 97; In Midian,
100; Return, loi; Exodus, 114;
Wilderness, 124.
Ncples — Museum of, 308, 332.
Nathan. — Prophecy, 139.
Nebuchadnezzar. — Character, 150;
Power, 151; Deified, 151; Dream,
247.
Nero. — Golden House, 311; Char
acter, 315.
New Academy. — 301.
Noah. — Descendants Idolaters, 40;
Preaching, 308
Octavius. — See "Augustus.''
Olivet. — Elevation, 16,
On. — See " He'iopolis."
Oppression. — Of Israelites, 81.
Palestine. — See "Canaan."
Pantheism. — 176, 178.
Parseeism. — 366.
Passover.—?vc=X, 114; Under Judges
135-
/'aa/.— Typical Grecian, 217, 349;
At Athens, 375.

INDEX. 387
Pentateuch. — 55; Translated at
Alexandria, 225.
Pentaur. — jj.
Petronius. —304.
Pharisees. — Expectations of, 145.
Phoenician Language. — Antiquity,
52.
Phcenicians. — 168.
Philo. — Ancestry, 233; Education,
234; Peculiar Work, 235, seq.;
Eff'ects, 243.
Phineas. — 117.
Pilate. — 302.
Pity. — Altar of, 329.
Plato. — 192; Republic, 193; Dual
ism, 194; Influence, 195; Mono
theism, 345.
Platonism — And Grecians, 229;
Philo, 234, 240, 242; At Rome,
301, 302.
Pliny (The Elder ). — ReUgious
Views, 292, 293, 345; Stoicism of,
301; Brutality, 329.
Pliny (Yh^ Younger). —Religious
Views, 304.
Plutarch. — 393.
/"o/Zzo.— 348.
Polytheism. — Chaldsean, 41; Egyp
tian, 86; Roman, 280; Babylo
nian, 156; Xenophanes, 176;
Socrates. 189; 'tolerance, 281;
Reaction, 344; Final Stage, 366.
Pompeii. — 307.
Pompey. — 253, 2=15; And Julius
Caesar, 257; Wealth, 311.
Potiphar. — 69; Daughter of, mar
ried to Joseph, 70.
Prophet like Moses. — 126.
Proselytes. — 346.
Ptolemy Lagus. — 224.
Ptolemy Philadelphus. — 225.
Pythagoras. — 174.
Ra. — The Sun-God, 107.
Rameses IL — Assyrian Descent,
75: Conquests, 77; Building, 78;
At Tanis, 79; Oppressor of He
brews, 81; Treaty with Hittites,
82; Deified, 87, 107; University
Thebes, 94; Defeat of Hittites,
119.
Ramesseum. — 77; Library of, 96.
Ra-Sekenen. — 73.
Roman Citizenship. — 267, seq.
Roman Colonies. — 268.
Roman Law.— 262, seq.
Roman Roads. — In Palestine, 20;
Imperial, 270.
Rome. — Greek influences in, 211;
Early History of, 250; Conquests,
252; Empire, 253; Reforms of

388 INDEX.

Caesar, 258; Under Augustus, 259;
Travelers, 270; Center of Influ
ence, 273; Imperial Character,
274; Corruprion of, 280 seq, 310
seq.; Religious Liberty, 280; Su
perstition, 284; Early Virtues,
309; Military Power, 314; Popu
lation, 314 (note); Social Decline,
317 seq.; Slaves, 320; Mendi
cants, 323; Games, 325; Worship
of Emperor, 357, 372, 374.
Ruth. — Book of, 130, 134.
Salatis. — 65.
Samuel.— Ch:\\AhooA, 136; Prophet,
136; Anoints Saul, 137; Anoints
David, 138.
Saracens. — 48 seq.
Sargon I. — 41 ; Tradition of Birth,
92.
Saul. — 138.
Scribes. — Origin of, 160.
Seed of Abraham. — 122.
Seleucid(S.— \-ci?^\xe:-[ice of, 206;
Found Antioch, 207.
Semitic Empires. — Calling of, 61.
Septuagint. — 225 seq.
Seneca. — Religious 'Views, 294, 302;
Stoicism, 300; Suicide, 301; On
Marriage, 330; On Immorality of
Rome, 333.
Set;, House of— ()2,.
Seti II. — Reconquers Delta, 104;
Influence, in; Death, 113.
Shechem. — Described, 33.
Shem. — 122.
Shepherd King s. — See "Hyksos."
Simon. — The Cyrenian, 350.
Simplon Pass. — 17.
Socrates. — Early Life, 181; Teach
ing, 182 seq.; Death, 186.
Socratic Philosophy. — Influence of
186, 293.
Sodom. — And Pompeii, 308.
Sophists. — Ris" of, 178; Influence,
179; Corrected by Socrates, 186;
Origin and Character, 297.
Stoicism. — And the Grecian, 229;
Philo, 240, 242; At Rome, 298;
Answered by Paul, 379.
S/radf?.— Quoted, 88, 339, 345,

Sue ton ius. — 348 .
Sutekh. — 75; Worshipped by Ram
eses, 76, 80.
Suez Canal. — 84.
Sylla.— 2'-,-^, 310.
Syllabic 'Languagcs.— \:x\'i\i\t^A to
Revelation, 51.
Synagogue. — Origin, 160; Exten
sion, 340.
Syrian Desert. — 17.
Ta A ken. — 73.
Tacitus. — Religious Views, 293, 348
Tanis. — Under Hyksos, 66; Des
troyed, 75; Rebuilt by Rameses,
79; Trmple of Sutekh, 80; Scene
of Divine Intervention, 89.
Tel-el- A rmana. — 53.
Terence.- 2(i().
Thales. — 172.
Thebes. — Residence of Rameses,
79; University, 93.
Thermuthis. — 92.
Titus. — Festivals of, 326, 327; Siege
of Jerusalem, 348.
Trajan. — 327.
Triumph, Roman.- 316.
"Unknown God:' — Aspirations of
Socrates, 189; Of Plato, 196, 296;
Declared by Paul, 376
Unity. — In Hebrew Religion, 128;
Struggles of Heathenism, 363;
Key to Gospel, 367 seq.; In Re
conciliation, 369; In Incarnation,
371-
Umversal Empires. — 249.
Ur.— d,2.
Varro. — On Slavery, 291; Mono
theism, 345.
F'z'/'_g'//.— Confiscation of his Prop
erty, 318; Pollio, 348.
Volusenus. — 380.
M^ilderness Sinaitic. — Described,
18.
" 'Wisdom:' — 230.
" Wise Men:' — 37, 350.
Word, The. — See "Logos."
Xenophanes. — 175.
Zealots. — 343.
Zeno. — 297; Suicide of, 300.
Zoan. — See "Tarns."