ianity, owing to the lack of that central figure more immediate, more heartfelt, and more endur whose sufferings and charm of character move our neighbours to alternate sympathy and emulation. But the Jew has, in truth, a similar ideal." Our thoughts rush at once to Abraham, the father of the faithful, or Moses, the great lawgiver, or David, the sweet singer of Israel. But the modern reading of Hebrew history begins on this side of Abraham. Moses was the author of no legislation that has come down to us. David never wrote a psalm. ing. We have reached the last mark of distinction. "Judaism,” says Mr. Joseph, "has a mission in the world. She was chosen for a witness, and she has not yet delivered her testimony; a message was put into her mouth, and she has not yet uttered it." What is Israel's mission? At first we can see nothing but the two matters already dealt with— God and duty. And undoubtedly that is all the mission Mr. Joseph finds for Israel till many sermons are past. Her mission is simply to witness for the unity of God and the supremacy of duty. No, it is to none of these the modern Jewish critic may turn for inspiration. He finds no person indeed at all to fix his faith upon. But he turns to the nation of Israel, and he asks, "What can thrill us more powerfully than the spectacle of But it is evident that that is no third mark of Israel's devotion and martyrdom? What elodistinction, but merely a repetition of the first two. quence can rival that of the appeal which every And so you find, after a time, that there is someline of our history, written as it is with the life-thing else. It is simply Israel's separation. And blood of our heroes, makes to us to be true to the faith, loyal to duty, staunch champions of religion and righteousness, whatever the cost?" Well, it is good, so far as it goes. But Mr. Joseph knows that it never has gone very far, and never can go. So, though in moments of fearlessness he acknowledges the supreme place of faith, saying enthusiastically, "Faith, my brethren, faith in the vitality of our creed and our mission-this is what we especially need in these days;" yet he seeks to establish his second distinction between Judaism and Christianity by insisting upon conduct as peculiar to the one, while belief is characteristic of the other. "Judaism, we may rejoice to think, has far more to say about human conduct than about theology; and human conduct, as Matthew Arnold has told us, is three-fourths of life." But there is no such distinction; or if there is, Christianity has all the best of it. For even Mr. Joseph acknowledges that "a certain amount of belief is necessarily assumed." And he fails utterly to show that Christianity assumes any particle of barren belief. Nay, rather if the faith is more, and its Object nobler, the service will be here the reasoning is peculiar. This seems to be the way of it: Israel must have a mission, because she has been separated from the nations of the earth-that separation must itself be the mission. We trust we do not misrepresent this able and clear-headed author. The most careful examination of the book has found no other meaning than that. And there is a passage so emphatic in its declaration, that no other meaning seems possible after it. Having explained that holiness in the Old Testament means simply separation, and has not the modern idea of moral sanctity attached to it; and, indeed, Mr. Joseph never claims a special moral sanctity for the Jew, he quotes: "Ye shall be holy unto Me, for I the Lord am holy; and I have separated you from the peoples that ye should be Mine;" and he adds: "Let us write these words on our hearts, for they contain the whole philosophy of Judaism." That, then, is Judaism-God, Duty, Separation. And as this distinguished Jewish expositor looks at them, he sees how sublime these three are as ideals, -how impotent to touch our life and conduct. God, Duty, Separation-is there any nation on the face of the earth that has not all these three?— all these and something else to make it a religion? For what is this but theism, pure and simple; no religion at all, but the most ordinary system of philosophy? Mr. Joseph knows it. "If Judaism "If Judaism is to perform its errand it must live," he says; " and to live it must be Judaism, and not vague Theism." Well, there is just one thing that will make Judaism a religion still, lifting it out of all confusion with vague Theism. It is the continued observance of the Mosaic ritual. Moses is gone, no doubt, and all the Mosaic legislation with him -moral and ceremonial. Nevertheless you must recoil with a shudder to-day, is, in the still nobler age, to be the chosen instrument for paying homage to the Supreme! Men are to advance in justice, in brotherly love, in wide-reaching pity for suffering, in the power of self-renunciation; in this one thing only are they to go back, and turn God's house into reeking shambles!" These are Mr. Joseph's words. They will not return to sacrifice; for they know that the blood of bullocks and of goats cannot take away sin. And the time has come. to test their act and you must speak as if the Mosaic legislation sincerity and their endurance. A few months ago were as Divine as once you believed it to be, and as eternally binding. Will our young and influential modern Israelites accept this condition? They cannot say yes; they dare not say no. They cannot say yes. Conscience rebels against it. The late Professor Graetz said yes boldly enough, and the "party of Breslau" followed him. Stick to the ceremonies, they cried, though all authority has been swept out of them; abide by them, for our life is there. But our modern Israelites cannot away with the Breslau compromise. They have learned the magnificent lesson that ritual was made for conscience, and not conscience for ritual. They cannot say yes. And the time has come to test their endurance. The test is simple enough. In the ritual of the synagogue there is a daily prayer for the restoration of sacrifice. Here is the test, Will our modern Israelites pray for the time when the blood of bullocks and of goats may flow again to take away sin? No; the advanced Israelite of to-day knows no words energetic enough to express his abhorrence of sacrifice. "Go back to Sacrifice," he cries, "when the Golden Days have come. The idea is its own refutation. For what does it mean? It means that the climax of the world's progress is to be marked by a return to a barbarous worship. A rite, from the mere thought of which the best minds a London preacher was inhibited by the Chief Rabbi because he refused to offer the customary prayer for the restoration of the sacrificial rite. And yet how significant and how touching it is, that they dare not say no. They dare not say that they will no longer have anything to do with the ceremonial law. They dare not say that God, Duty, and Separation are Judaism, and there is nothing more. But what are they to do? They have found that circumcision is nothing, and they will suffer inhibition rather than blow artificial breath into the shrivelled corpse of legalism that still stands in the synagogue corner. What will they do? How great is our surprise to discover that the salvation of Judaism is to be found, after all, in eating and drinking! "Not that which goeth into the mouth defileth a man," said our Lord. For once Mr. Joseph forgets his devotion and almost his manners. "The truth is, that which entereth into the mouth does defile, if its entrance is due to a conscious breaking with religious duty." For modern Israel is to be saved by eating and drinking, by the preservation and strict observance of the Mosaic laws concerning dietary. God, Duty, and Separation? no; but God, Duty, Separation, and abstinence from ham (the word is Mr. Joseph's own), that is Judaism at last. For "Judaism must live; and to live it must be Judaism, not vague Theism. How it is to be anything without these dietary laws I know not, nor do I believe any one can tell me." Old Testament History. BY THE REV. PROFESSOR GEORGE G. CAMERON, D.D., Aberdeen. To one who is not committed to any special theory of Old Testament criticism, the greatest difficulty at present arises in connexion with the question of history. In these books of the Old Testament which are being subjected to so searching a criticism, how much is trustworthy history? In reply❘ to that question, a critic of the old school will probably say," All that professes to be historical should be accepted as such." A critic of the Wellhausen school will assign a large place to tradition, make free use of the genius of an editor, and not reject the help of a myth. In these circumstances it is of the utmost importance that there should be some understanding as to what is veritable history in the books under discussion. Graf has the credit of having raised the criticism of the Old Testament to the position of a great historical question. It is still being conducted along the lines laid by him. But it seems ridiculous to proceed with a historical inquiry, unless there is something like agreement regarding the history available for the settlement of the points in dispute. Dr. Driver, in his Introduction to the Literature of the Old Testament, takes up the following position : 1— "Two principles, once recognised, will be found to solve nearly all the difficulties which, upon the traditional view of the historical books of the Old Testament, are insuperable, viz.-(1) that in many parts of these books we have before us traditions, in which the original representation has been insensibly modified, and sometimes (especially in the later books) coloured by the associations of the age in which the author recording it lived; (2) that some freedom was used by ancient historians in placing speeches or discourses in the mouths of historical characters." No doubt, if a critic is allowed carte blanche in the matter of traditions, and of speeches partially manufactured (the word is not used in any offensive sense), he may, with comparative ease, explain the books of the Old Testament in harmony with the Grafian, or any similar theory. But so long as the 1 Preface, p. xvii, n. Grafian theory is not universally accepted, it is desirable, in the interest of full and frank investigation, that there should be some understanding as to what is trustworthy history, on the one side, and what is mere tradition, or freely-reported speech, on the other. Suppose an argument is founded on a passage which, in the record, professes to be historical, and the answer of those who reject the conclusion arrived at is not that the words fairly interpreted do not justify that conclusion, but that they are not in the proper sense historical-that they are merely a late setting of an ancient tradition, or a form of speech which a late historian thought fit to put into the mouth of one of his characters, it is obvious that, in such circumstances, discussion must prove unsatisfactory and inconclusive. And the question recurs, and should be answered, "What, then, is veritable history in these Old Testament books, and what mere tradition, and freely-reported speech?" It may be fair to ask here, "What does Dr. Driver exactly mean by his reference to traditions and freely-reported speeches?" He is speaking of the historical books of the Old Testament. Does he allow a trustworthy historical basis for his traditions? Does he admit the real existence of the personages whose speeches are held to be freely given, and the actual occurrence of the events in connexion with which the speeches are reported? If he does not, we are simply left in the air, and have nothing to discuss. If he does, the position he creates for us is no doubt interesting in the present state of Old Testament criticism, but it raises the prospect of discussions as perplexing and as difficult of settlement as any that have exercised the minds of critics during our century. Dr. Driver should tell us, and no doubt he will be asked to tell us, what he regards as traditions and what as freely-reported speech, and the historical basis on which they respectively And we wish him joy of his task. rest. As an illustration of the historical problem which has to be faced, let us take the 22nd chapter of Joshua. Dr. Driver admits a difficulty in determining the authorship of the chapter. In the table which he gives, the arrangement of the Jehovah on one altar alone; the altar, namely, text is as follows: P. 22. 9-34. D2 22. 1-6 (7-8). That is to say, the opening verses of the chapter are assigned to the Deuteronomic editor (to use Dr. Driver's expression), and vers. 9-34 to the author of P, the Priest-code, the latest Pentateuch document. [It is quite true that in a note Dr. Driver admits the difficulty of arriving at a "satisfactory analysis" of vers. 9-34; but this is of no importance for our present purpose; the author uses largely the phraseology of P, and for all practical purposes the narrative may be taken as belonging to the period of P.] The important question, and the only one with which I am dealing, is this, "Does the author, whoever he was, report a historical transaction?" In other words, "Did the two and a half tribes, whose possessions lay to the east of the Jordan, when they were about to take possession of the territories assigned to them, build an altar which the tribes to the west of the Jordan supposed to be intended for sacrifice?" "Did the building of this altar threaten the infant community of Israel with civil war?" [Ver. 12. "And when the children of Israel heard of it (the building of the altar by the two and a half tribes), the whole congregation of the children of Israel gathered themselves together at Shiloh, to go up to war against them."] And, "Did the two and a half tribes repudiate, as with righteous indignation, the construction placed on their action by their brethren of the other tribes?" [Ver. 29. "God forbid that we should rebel against Jehovah, and turn this day from following Jehovah, to build an altar for burntofferings, for meat-offerings, or for sacrifices, beside the altar of Jehovah our God which is before His tabernacle."] Is a historical transaction reported in this chapter? It is of the greatest importance that a clear answer should be given to that question. The law of the central sanctuary, as known and in force at the time of the settlement in Canaan, is involved. And the date of the promulgation of that law is of vital importance in present discussions. It is impossible to read this chapter without admitting that, at the time when it was written, the tribes of Israel acknowledged in the fullest sense the obligation of offering sacrifice to which (to use the words of the text) was before the tabernacle of Jehovah (cf. ver. 29). But it is needless to say that a date for the law of the central sanctuary, as early as the time of the settlement in Canaan, is impossible for a higher critic of these days. And, according to Dr. Driver (to keep to his position, as he is, in many respects, the most moderate of these critics), the 22nd chapter of Joshua will have to be explained in accordance with one or other, or both of his canons, thus :-The writer, either (1) uses a certain freedom in the speeches reported in the chapter; or (2) founds his narrative on a tradition which had reached him from past times, and which perhaps he modified and coloured to suit the circumstances of his own day. Let us frankly concede the principles required by Dr. Driver and apply them to the narrative. Let the writer be accorded a certain freedom-a large freedom, if that should be of any service-in the speeches reported in the chapter. A historical basis is still required around which these speeches may gather. (If not, there is nothing worthy of discussion.) What is the historical event? Was an altar really built by the two and a half tribes ? If an altar was built, did it give rise to a dispute between the tribes settled on the east of the Jordan and their brethren on the west of that river? If a controversy did arise in connexion with the altar, did it turn, as the narrative professes to show, on the purpose to which the altar was to be devoted? These questions deserve an answer, and if a historical value is claimed for the narrative, an answer must be given. The same kind of argument may be applied to the use of tradition—as proposed by Dr. Driver. The principle for which he contends is that "the original representation has been insensibly modified, and sometimes (especially in the later books) coloured by the associations of the age in which the author recording it lived." If the 22nd chapter of Joshua is to be explained as a re-setting of an ancient tradition, the question is, "What was the original representation?" which, according to Dr. Driver, is presupposed. How much of the narrative was found in the original representation? Did that representation express a matter of fact? To this question there can be only one reply by a follower of Graf and Wellhausen. The law of the central sanctuary is presupposed as the historical basis-if there is such a basis-of the dispute between the tribes to the east and those to the west of the Jordan, in the matter of the altar, y. That law is found in Deut. xii. But the date of Deuteronomy is the period of-not Joshua, but— Josiah. Thus Wellhausen: "In all circles where appreciation of scientific results may be at all counted on, it is acknowledged that it (Deuteronomy) was composed in the age in which it was discovered, and that it formed the basis of the reformation of Josiah, which took place about a generation before the destruction of Jerusalem by the Chaldæans.”1 This conclusion as to the date of Deuteronomy is the key to Graf's solution of pentateuchal problems. In accordance with this conclusion, Joshua xxii. must be pronounced unhistorical, because it represents, as already acknowledged, a law which was not promulgated till a good many centuries afterwards. Let the method of procedure be noted; it has not received the attention it deserves. Certain books are subjected to critical analysis. The result of the process is, in the judgment and to the satisfaction of the critics, the disentanglement of certain codes of law, and the fixing of the terminus a quo of their operation. When this has been done, the same books are re-read, and anything in the narrative which does not square with the conclusions as to the codes is rejected as historically untrustworthy. The process is a case of reasoning in a circle, and is as unsatisfactory in these discussions regarding the Old Testament as it has been found and acknowledged to be in other discussions. The law presupposed in the 22nd of Joshua is that of the central sanctuary. First, the historical books are examined, and evidence in favour of the existence of this law prior to the days of Josiah is said to be wanting. Then, the same books are again examined; and when this law is plainly required for the explanation of the text, as in Joshua xxii., the narrative is pronounced to be unhistorical, and, as to matters of fact, worthless. Suppose the process were reversed. Suppose Joshua xxii. were accepted as, upon the whole, recording trustworthy history, and the 12th chapter of Deuteronomy explained in accordance with the law presupposed in Joshua xxii.,—would this method of procedure not be as legitimate as that referred to above? The narrative, on the face of it, wears 1 Wellhausen, Gesch. p. 9. an air of probability. On the assumption that a central sanctuary was already prescribed for Israel, the circumstances are such as might reasonably have occurred. The desire of the two and a half tribes to have some material monument testifying to their union with their brethren to the west of the Jordan is quite natural. The suspicion of those brethren as to the intention in erecting the altar is what might have been expected on the part of men who, through the discipline of the wilderness and the wars in Canaan, had learned to trust in Jehovah, and to dread His anger. The text of the chapter is not difficult, and the meaning cannot be misunderstood or explained away. It is just such a narrative as the ordinary mind would have no manner of doubt about. Must it be given up? Must it be pronounced to be historically worthless? That is the question which this paper is intended to raise. There are other narratives, professedly historical, to which the same question applies. This one, in Joshua xxii., is sufficient for the present purpose. Others can be discussed afterwards, if that should be thought desirable or needful. The question is fair and square: "Are the historical books to be read on the presupposition that everything that does not fall in with the views of the higher critics as to the date and operation of the Deuteronomic [and, of course, also of the Levitical] code is unhistorical, and, on matters of fact, utterly untrustworthy and useless?" If an affirmative answer is given to that question, is it unreasonable to ask the critics, who have taken so much trouble to disentangle the codes, to undertake the further, and in many respects more important, service of extricating what is trustworthy history, and setting it down for us in black and white? It will be extremely interesting to see how far critics agree in the determination of the history by the application of the test of the codes. The time was (and not so long ago) when the use of the word Elohim or Jehovah, as the name of the Divine Being, was regarded as a test for practical purposes sufficiently distinctive for the determination of a document. That is not so any longer. Does a similar fate await the test of the codes? Time will tell. Meantime, let it be noted that, if a man on reading, say, the 22nd chapter of Joshua, should suppose that the teaching of the chapter lies on the surface,-that the narrative records a dispute between different sections of Israel, which |