YALE
DIVINITY SCHOOL
LIBRARY

Gift of
Estate of Professor George Dahl

THE POETS OF THE OLD
TESTAMENT

BY THE SAME AUTHOR
THE EARLY TRADITIONS
OF GENESIS
"It has seldom been my privilege to
read a book so carefully and charmingly
written, and yet so brimful of really
important matter." — Prof. T. Witton
Davies, in Review of Theology and
Philosophy.

Messrs. T. & T. CLARK.

THE POETS OF THE
OLD TESTAMENT

By
ALEX. R. GJDRDON, D.Lnr., D.D.
PROFESSOR OF OLD TESTAMENT LITERATURE,
PRESBYTERIAN COLLEGE, MONTREAL

HODDER AND STOUGHTON
LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO
1912

Co
MY PARENTS

PREFACE
AVAST amount of important work has recently
been done on the poetry of the Old Testament.
Thus far, however, no attempt has been made to
bring home the results, as a unified whole, to the
English reader. The present book seeks, within limits,
to supply this want. A brief sketch is first offered
of the general characteristics of Hebrew poetry.
Then the growth of the hterature itself is traced
from its roots in the old folk-poetry of Israel to
its full flower in the Psalter and Wisdom books like
Proverbs and Job. The aim has been throughout
to catch the heart and spirit of the poetry. Thus
questions of Introduction are treated only incident
ally, and by way of approach to the centre. Trans
lations are also given of the most characteristic
passages, as far as possible in the rhythm of the
original. The scope of the work might, indeed, have been
wider. For much of the prophetic literature of
the Old Testament is not merely charged with the
true passion of poetry, but even falls into the
vii

viii Preface
balanced movement and cadence of verse. But
as the prophets were more than poets — men fired
with a message from the living God, whose poetic
rhythms were but the natural outflow of their
enthusiasm — I have thought it better to leave them
out of account in the present work. On the other
hand, Ecclesiastes has been included among the
poets. The bulk of that book is, no doubt, pure
prose. But in its theme and spirit it belongs to
the same category as the Book of Job and the more
speculative parts of Proverbs. Thus it appears to
fit well into the general purpose of the work. For
the same reason, while no special place has been
given to the Apocryphal books of Ecclesiasticus
and Wisdom of Solomon, they have been frequently
drawn into comparison with the other Wisdom
books. The former has been rendered, where
possible, according to the original Hebrew version ;
hence it is usually referred to under its Hebrew
name of the Wisdom of Ben Sira.
In the poetical literature the text is peculiarly
obscure, and often corrupt . The keen criticism of the
past century has, however, helped largely to recover
the original readings. The carefully sifted results of
criticism are now available to the student in Kittel's
Biblia Hebraica. As the present book appeals
chiefly to English readers, I have not considered it
advisable to load the pages with critical apparatus.

Preface

ix

Where emendations have been tacitly accepted,
therefore, the student is referred to Kittel's notes.
In texts where I have followed an independent
course, however, reasons have been invariably
given. For the cause just stated, Biblical verses are num
bered as in the English version, while Hebrew words
have been avoided in the page proper. The scheme of
transliteration is that of Davidson's Grammar,
which is so generally adopted in modern works.
Perhaps the only difficulty emerges in the case of
the Divine name, which is now usually trans
literated as Yahweh or Yahwe. This, no doubt
reproduces most nearly the original sound. To
preserve harmony with names like Joshua, Jona
than, etc., which occur in other parts of the book,
I have adhered to the older Jahweh. But no real
difficulty will be felt if the reader bear in mind that
the Hebrew /, like the German, has the same
sound as our English Y.
The translations offered are all original. I must,
however, acknowledge with gratitude the inspira
tion I have received from Principal George Adam
Smith's renderings of Lamentations ii. and iv. in
his Jerusalem, Vol. II, and certain other poetical
passages in his Historical Geography of the Holy
Land, and articles in the Expositor. Many of Dr.
Smith's cadences I have found it impossible either

x Preface
to forget or to withhold ; and I hereby desire to
express my obligations. In translating Psalms I
have been aided by the versions of Driver (in his
Parallel Psalter), Cheyne (in the Dry den Library),
and Wellhausen-Furness (in the Polychrome Bible).
References to other literature will be found in the
notes. I have also to express my warmest thanks to my
brother-in-law, Mr. James Georgeson, M.A., Aber
deen, who read the proof-sheets, and offered various
helpful suggestions as the book passed through the
press. Montreal, 1912.

Contents

PAGE
CHAPTER I
General Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry . i

CHAPTER II
The Folk-Poetry of Israel .... 23
CHAPTER III
Musical Accompaniments of Hebrew Song . 50
CHAPTER IV
Golden Treasuries of National Poetry . . 66
CHAPTER V
The Sorrows of Death  7*
xi

xii Contents

PAGE

CHAPTER VI
The Psalter .... 97
CHAPTER VII
The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 120
CHAPTER VIII
The Glory of God in Nature 142
CHAPTER IX
The Image of God in Man . 153
CHAPTER X
Life and Immortality . . 167
CHAPTER XI
The Kingdom of God in the Psalms 185
CHAPTER XII
The Book of Job . . . 202

Contents xiii
page
CHAPTER XIII
The Patience of Job . . 223
CHAPTER XIV
The Spiritual Drama of Job . 229
CHAPTER XV
The Book of Proverbs . . 255
CHAPTER XVI
The Good Man of the Proverbs 271
CHAPTER XVII
The Thoughts of the Wise . 295
CHAPTER XVIII
The Song of Songs . . . 309
CHAPTER XIX
Vanity of Vanities . , , 329

2,

CHAPTER I
General Characteristics of Hebrew
Poetry
The living spring of poetry is emotion. This is self-
evident of lyrical effusions, which are ' the spon
taneous overflow of powerful feelings.' But the
other species of poetry are fed at the same fountain.
A fresh, strong thought or lofty imagination seizes
the sensitive spirit. Or a world of radiant figures is
born within him. But before it can emerge as
poetry, the whole must be charged with the heart's
own passion. This inward ' inspiration ' of poetry
has been recognized by the keenest critics from Plato
onwards. And no less vital an influence can ex
plain the power by which it holds captive successive
generations of mankind, communicating something
of its own rapture to those who sing or hear the
strains even in the most distant ages. Poetry
comes from the heart, and goes to the heart ; and
the deepest and most abiding appeals are always
those of heart to heart.
The peculiar genius of the Semitic family lies in
this region. These peoples were all the children of
i i

2 The Poets of the Old Testament
passionate feeling. And the Hebrews shared to the
full in the common race temperament. They loved
intensely, and they hated intensely. To the patriot
ic Hebrew the love of home and country was a
veritable fire in his bones. Jerusalem was counted
' above his chief joy ; ' and his heart was strangely
moved whenever he was led to speak of her glory or
her shame. The glowing ardour of his friendship
almost equalled his love for Zion. And the hot
flame of his hatred burned with as vehement a force.
The Hebrew poets exulted with real savage glee over
the downfall of the oppressor. They could even
bless the hand that took their little ones, and dashed
them against the rock; while no passion could
exceed in fury that with which the Jews of a later
age hurried the Prince of their people to the cross.
Thus, even apart from the influence of religion, the
Hebrew spirit contained within itself the potentiality
of great poetry. And when we add to this natural
endowment in feeling the inspiration of the pure
and elevated faith committed to the Hebrews, there
seems no limit to the heights that spirit might reach.
The poetry of other nations may be arrayed in a
robe of more exquisite beauty ; but none is inspired
by richer, nobler emotion.
The element of feeling is found, to some extent,
in every human soul. Thus, as Carlyle fancies,
there may exist a vein of poetry in the hearts of all

Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry 3
men. The distinction of the heaven-born poet is
that he not merely feels, and that more keenly than
other men, but likewise gives immortal expression
to the feelings that thus well up within him. And
perhaps no words can better convey the peculiar
quality of poetic speech than Milton's oft-quoted
remark, that it must be ' simple, sensuous, and
passionate.' x Other ideals have, indeed, held sway
in their time. But true poetry has always come
back to the realities of Nature and life. Poetry
being the language of the heart, that style is most
appropriate which speaks directly and unaffectedly
to the heart. For the same reason, poetic diction is
' sensuous ' or pictorial. The sphere of cold ab
straction is altogether alien to poetry. Its world
is one of warm, full-blooded life, suffused with glow
ing imagination, and rich in figures of speech — meta
phors and similes and pictures drawn or suggested.
In like manner, poetry is passionate. Being inspired
by feeling, it must also throb with feeling. The
touch of passion is, indeed, the truest test of the
feeling which is the very soul of poetry.
If we may judge by these standards, the Hebrew
speech approves itself one of the fittest vehicles of

1 ' To -which (i.e. Logic and Rhetoric) poetry would be made
subsequent, or, indeed, rather precedent, as being less subtile
and fine, but more simple, sensuous, and passionate,' — Tractate
on Education,

4 The Poets of the Old Testament
poetical expression. Like other Semitic languages,
it is marked by great simplicity of form. The
rigidity of its three-lettered root scheme, its lack of
precise distinctions of time within the verb forms,
its weakness in connective particles, and its general
incapacity for abstractions, prevented its ever
attaining the subtle logical effects of Greek or our
complex modern languages. But this very failure
in philosophical grasp enhances the pictorial power
of the speech. In Hebrew all things appear in
action. The verb is the predominant element in
the sentence.1 And, though the shades of time-
distinction are blurred, the richness of the language
in intensive forms throws the precise complexion of
the act into clear, strong light. But even the sim
plicity of the tenses heightens the pictorial effect ;
and the paratactic connexion of the clauses gives
the Hebrew sentence the appearance of a series of
artistic strokes, often of gemlike brilliance. Hebrew
possesses likewise a great wealth of synonyms,
i ' Since action and delineation are the very essence of poetry,
and since the verb is the part of speech that depicts action, or
rather sets the action itself directly before us, the language that
is rich in expressive, pictorial verbs is a poetical language ; and
the more fully it can convert its nouns into verbs, the more
poetical it is. , , , Now in Hebrew the verb is almost every
thing — that is, all is Ufe and action. . . . The language of
which we are speaking is a very abyss of verbs, a sea of waves,
where action ever rolls surging into action.' — Herder, Geist der
hebraischen Poesie, Suphan's edition, xi. 227,

Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry 5
especially in descriptions of the common scenes and
interests of life, and in the region of feeling. The
language is equally rich in imagery. The daring
boldness and luxuriance of its figures are, indeed,
almost oppressive to the modern mind. But the
Hebrew poet himself was unconscious of any wanton
riot of imagination. To him the bold, swift changes
of metaphor were natural reflections of the play of
passion in the soul. For Hebrew poetry is pre
eminently passionate. The ' simple, sensuous '
speech is but a veil, which thrills and quivers with
the poet's every passing emotion.
The fiery energy of Hebrew is often felt to be
gained at the expense of beauty. The profusion of
compressed consonants, sibilants and gutturals even
conveys to Western ears an unpleasing impression of
piercing intensity and harshness. But the sharper
sibilants are mainly expressive of keen emotions of
grief or triumph, and are thus in artistic harmony
with the passionate genius of the language, while
the purity with which the gutturals are breathed
from the open throat tones down the harshness that
might otherwise be felt.1 Hebrew has its full share,
1 ' The Northern speeches imitate the sound of Nature — but
they do this roughly, and, as it were, only from without. They
creak, rustle, hiss and jar, like the objects themselves. . . .
The further South we go, the more delicate becomes the imitation
of Nature. The words have parsed through the finer medium
of emotion, and are framed as it were in the region of the heart,

6 The Poets of the Old Testament
too, of the more liquid consonants, with a variety of
vowel tones ranging from the rich broad a to the
light sh'wa, yielding the possibility of a manifold
interplay of sounds. The strength of the double
letters, with the normal alternations of vowel and
consonant, give the language also something of the
tuneful flexibility of Arabic or Italian. The Hebrew
poets were fully aware of the musical potentialities
of their speech, and sensitive to the magical effects
produced by harmonies of sound. The musical
quality of Hebrew may be appreciated even by the
Western student who listens sympathetically to
the rendering of the Sabbath service in the Syn
agogues especially of the Spanish Jews. And the
poetry of the Old Testament shows harmonious
effects of surprising power. The reproduction of
the furious gallop of the strong ones ' by the waters
They yield us, therefore, not coarse reproductions of sound, but
images on which feeling has impressed its softer seal, thus modi
fying them from within. Of this tone-blending of inward feel
ing and outward representation in the roots of the verbs, the
Oriental languages are a model. . . . We make a point of
speaking only from between the tongue and the lips, opening our
mouths as little as possible, as though we lived among smoke
and fog, . . . The Italians and still more the Greeks speak
ore rotundo, not biting their lips together. The Eastern world
draws its tones yet deeper from the breast — out of the very
heart — as Elihu begins his speech (Job xxxii. i8ff.). The lips
being opened thus clearly, the speech becomes a really living
sound, an actual image of the object breathed forth in the atmo
sphere of emotion ; and this I judge to be the spirit of the Hebrew
tongue,' — Herder, op, cit., pp, 23if,

Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry 7
of Megiddo,' or the crashing of the fatal blow on
Sisera, in the sounding notes of Deborah's great
battle-hymn (Judg. v. 22, 26), the unmistakable
suggestions of the ' surging of the peoples, that
surge like the surging of the seas,' and the ' rushing
of nations, that rush like the rushing of mighty
waters ' (Isa. xvii. I2ff.), and Nahum's brilliant
picture of the flashing and raging of the war-chariots
at the assault of Nineveh (Nah. ii. 3ff.), rank among
the finest verbal effects in literature. But even
apart from such obvious efforts of art, and the
simpler musical charms produced by alliteration
and assonance, the Hebrew poets display a true
power in the wedding of sounds to tones of feeling.
Many of the Psalms are real studies in harmony.
The first, for example, opens with a play of sibilants
gliding into easy liquids and labials, as the Psalmist
passes from the dark and dangerous paths of the
wicked to contemplate the joyous fortunes of the
good. With v. 4 the duller sounds predominate,
the tone only rising in sympathy with the expression
of sure confidence in v. 6. The second Psalm
offers a yet more remarkable example of tonal
harmony. The tumultuous gathering of the nations
is depicted in a series of rushing sh, r, and m sounds,
supported mainly by heavy vowels. As the enemy
take counsel together against the Almighty, the tone
rises almost to a shriek through a succession of

8 The Poets of the Old Testament
compressed consonants, g, s, and §, mingled with
the sharper vowels i, e, and short a. In v. 3
the breaking of the chains is distinctly audible in
the snapping notes of the verb nenaWkah. The
subsequent transition from the calm majesty in
which the Almighty sits enthroned in heaven to
His outbreak of stormy indignation against the
wicked is equally well reflected in the sound of the
verses. In contrast with the rage and tumult of
this Psalm, the eighth offers a good example of the
feeling of repose and confidence suggested by the
quieter tones of speech, while through the pastoral
beauty of the twenty-third an unmistakable effect
is produced by the gently rustling sh sounds and
the murmuring ms. The same aesthetic pleasure
is gained from a study of the finer passages of the
Song of Songs and Job. In the glad Spring-song
(Song ii. 8ff.) the vowels and consonants seem to
dance in harmony with the rhythm. The changing
moods of Job are likewise reflected in the sounds.
Thus the general tone of the picture of Sheol (iii.
I3ff.) is grave and dull, the radiant vision of Job's
past happiness (ch. xxix.) is pitched on a high, clear
key, while the majesty of the Divine utterance is
sustained by a rich variety of verbal harmonies.
In close relation to the musical quality of poetic
speech is its rhythmical movement. This also
reflects the play of the emotions. Under the influ-

Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry 9
ence of any deep passion, the heart heaves beneath
the tide of feeling with a surging motion whose ebb
and flow resemble the onward sweep of the breakers
on the shore. Our quieter feelings find likewise
their relief in rhythmical waves. And this is but
part of a far wider movement ; for Nature and
life are one vast universe of rhythms. In giving
utterance to his feelings in rhythmical form, the
poet is no doubt directly impelled by the inward
movement of his soul. But stimuli from without
also bear upon him. In his classical study of
Work and Rhythm, Professor Karl Biicher of Leipzig
has traced the far-reaching influence of the rhythm
of daily labour in primitive folk-poetry. But, even
in these lower ranges of art, imitation of the sounds
and movements of animal life makes likewise for
rhythmical utterance. Arabic scholars are generally
agreed in connecting the peculiar stride of the typi
cal Arabic poem with the slow, steady march of
the camel. The rider crooning his lay insensibly
fell into the camel's swing, and so gave his poetry
that particular movement, though even in Arabic
the more rapid rhythm of the gallop may be caught
at times. In the ascending scale of art, many other
impulses touch the poet's imagination, causing his
strain to ' modulate with murmurs of the air,
And motions of the forest and the sea,

10 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
And voice of living beings, and woven hymns
Of night and day, and the deep heart of man.'
The qualities thus far dwelt upon are not, however,
quite peculiar to poetry. In its more elevated
moods, when inspired by a rapture of emotion
resembling that of poetry, the less impassioned
speech of prose may assume the ' simple, sensuous,
and passionate ' garb, the natural music, and even
the rhythmical movement, so characteristic of
poetry. Thus many writers have not hesitated to
obliterate the lines, and to describe, for example,
the melodious periods of Plato, the glowing outbursts
of orators like Demosthenes and Burke, and the
magical cadences of the Authorized Version of the
Bible, as prose poetry. Such criticism is natural
enough in days when the original connexion of
poetry with song and dance has been largely for
gotten. But in ancient times poetry was no mere
literary art, to be cultivated for its own ends. The
poem was a real song sung to the accompaniment of
music and dancing. And even when poetry has
forsaken its former affinities, the impulse to song
remains. This of necessity involves a certain
measure in the rhythm. In other words, poetry
is metrical. The rhythmical measure may show
wide variety in form. It may be marked by feet
of regular quantity or length, as in the classical
languages and Arabic, or by the number of accented

Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry 1 1
syllables within the verse, as in old Latin, Germanic,
and English poetry. The fundamental principle
of metre demands only that the rhythm should
move in artistic harmony with musical time.1 And
this law is strictly observed even by poets who the
oretically refuse to be bound by it.
The presence of a certain fixed measure in the
movement of Hebrew verse was first clearly per
ceived by Robert Lowth in his epoch-making lec
tures De Sacra Poesi Hebraeorum (1753). In his
vain search for a metre resembling that of classical
poetry, he observed that ' the poetry of the Hebrews
shows a peculiar conformation of sentences, . . .
whereby the poets repeat one and the same idea in
different words, or combine different ideas within
the same form of words, like things being related
to like, or opposites set in contrast to opposites.' 2
In other words, instead of pursuing a direct course
onwards, the second half of the verse, as it were,
doubles back on the first, reiterating the same
thought, either with some play of variation in words,
or by way of contrast. On the basis of this observa
tion Lowth developed his principle of fiarallelismus
membrorum — the parallelism of the individual mem-
1 Cf. Sydney Lanier's admirable analysis in his Science of
English Verse, pp. 978.
2 De Sacra Poesi Hebraeorum, ed. Rosenmiiller (Leipzig,
1815). P« 36.

1 2 The Poets of the Old Testament
bers, or stichoi, of the verse. The principle covers
a wide variety of forms ; but for convenience Lowth
distinguished three main species : —
(i) Synonymous, where the original thought is
repeated or echoed ' in different but equivalent
terms,' as in the opening bars of the Song of Deborah
(Judg. v. 3),
Hear, O kings,
Give ear, ye princes !
I to Jahweh — even I will sing,
I will sing praises to Jahweh, the God of Israel ;
or in the first Psalm (v. i), where we have an in
stance of what Lowth describes as a ' triplet paral
lelism,' O happy the man
That walketh not in the counsel of the wicked,
Nor standeth in the may of sinners,
Nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful ;
(2) Antithetic, ' where a theme is illustrated by
contrast with its opposite,' as in the closing verse
of the same Psalm,
For Jahweh knoweth the righteous,
But the way of the wicked shall perish ;
and (3) synthetic or constructive, where the idea is
completed in certain directions, as in Ps. ii. 6,
Yet have I set my king
On Zion, my holy hill ;
or in much fuller elaboration in Ps. i. 3,

Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry 1 3
He shall be like a tree
Planted by streams of water.
That yieldeth its fruit in its season,
And whose leaf fadeth not ;
Even all that he doth he maketh to prosper.*
To the three varieties of parallelism thus distin
guished by Lowth, a fourth is now generally added,
namely, climactic or ascending, where the changes
are rung on some key-word or phrase. A simple
example of this species of parallelism is found in
Ps. xxix. 1,
Render to Jahweh, sons of the Mighty,
Render to Jahweh glory and strength.
But much more complex illustrations are to be met
with in the Songs of Ascents, as in Ps. cxxi. iff.,
where various catch-words are repeated,
To the hills I lift mine eyes :
O whence doth come my help ?
My help (doth come) from Jahweh,
That made the heavens and earth.
Thy foot He'll not let slide ;
Thy Keeper slumbers not.
He slumbers not, nor sleeps,
That keepeth Israel.
The principle of parallelism is by no means con
fined to the poetry of the Hebrews. Among Oriental
nations, it belongs also to the Assyrians and Egypt
ians. But it had originally a much wider extension.
Traces may be found in the earliest poetry of many
Op. cit„ pp, 2o8fi.

14 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
different peoples. And, though more developed art
has largely discarded the form, it still survives in
hymnology and popular poetry. The songs of
Burns, for example, are full of it. The best explan
ation of the principle is still that put forth by Herder
as a complement to Lowth's more limited hypo
thesis — that it follows naturally from the responsive
mode of primitive folk-song. And, however alien
it may seem to our modern taste, a real aesthetic
charm lingers round its simple symmetry. The
parallel lines, as it were, come dancing to meet each
other, like the singing choruses that gave them form.
Thus, as Herder finely puts it, ' they sustain,
uplift, and strengthen each other in their counsel
or their joy. This result is obvious in songs of
triumph. The effect aimed at through the mournful
notes of sorrow, on the other hand, is that of the
sigh or lamentation. As the very drawing of the
breath seems to support and comfort the soul, so
does the other half of the chorus share in our sorrow,
becoming the echo, or, as the Hebrews say, the
daughter, of our expression of grief. In didactic odes
the one line strengthens the other. It is as though
the father spoke to his son, and the mother repeated
his words. The counsel thus becomes so very true,
cordial, and intimate. In love-songs, again, we
have sweet lovers' talk — a real interchange of hearts
and thoughts. In fine, so simple a bond of family

Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry 1 5
affection is formed between the two parallel expres
sions of feeling, that I may readily apply to them
the words of the tender Hebrew ode (Ps. cxxxiii.),
Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren
to dwell together in unity, etc' x
Parallelism may thus be described as a kind of
measured rhythm in lines, reflecting an inward rhythm
of thought or feeling. It is widely assumed, indeed,
that this is the only real measure Hebrew has to
show. Kuenen has expressed this view with charac
teristic force in his round assertion : ' metrical
the poetry of Israel is not.' 2 The prevalent scep
ticism is naturally enough explained by the failure
of so many theories on the subject. But the vital
connexion of poetry with music and dancing in
ancient Israel, as among other nations, seems to
necessitate a metre of some sort. A mere ' rhythm
of thought ' cannot satisfy the demands of poetic
art ; for the poet's thoughts and feelings must be
conveyed through the medium of sound. And the
long quest of a metrical principle in Hebrew poetry
has, at all events, brought us within sight of the
goal.. The first investigators sought for a metre of
the classical type. But no real result could thus
be arrived at. The decisive impulse in the con
trary direction was given by J. J. Bellermann's
suggestive Essay on Hebrew Metre (Berlin, 1813).
1 Op, cit„ p. 237. a Historisch-critisch Onderzoek, iii, 14.

1 6 The Poets of the Old Testament
Like his precursors, Bellermann proceeded on the
assumption that Hebrew metre was quantitative.
But, finding it impossible to determine the length of
the syllables by themselves, he called in the help of
accent. As the result, he was enabled to build up a
metrical system which often strikingly anticipates
the more recent work on the subject. A bold step
forward was taken by Ernst Meier of Tubingen,1
who came to Hebrew poetry fresh from the fields of
Suabian folk-lore, feeling that ' his travels of dis
covery there contributed far more to the understand
ing of the Old Testament than he could possibly have
gained from a journey to Jerusalem.' Influenced
chiefly by his researches in folk-poetry, Meier frankly
abandoned the quantitative standpoint, resting his
theory of Hebrew metre on a purely accentual basis.
In this he was followed by Julius Ley,2 whose life
long labour at the problem raised Hebrew metrics
to the dignity of a science. Both Meier and Ley made
the metrical movement to depend essentially on
the number of accented syllables. Of the weaker,
unaccented elements, according to Meier, ' as many
may precede or follow the accented syllables as can
be pronounced within the given duration of time.'
1 Die Form der hebraischen Poesie (Tubingen, 1853).
3 Cf. especially his Grundziige des Rhythmus, etc. (Halle, 1875),
and the supplementary Leitfaden der Metrik der hebr Poesie
(Halle, 1887),

Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry 1 7
Against the freedom thus asserted, a remarkable
tour de force was launched by the Roman Catholic
scholar, Gustav Bickell of Vienna,1 who insisted
that Hebrew metre was both accentual and syllabic
— that it rested, in fact, ' on the regular interchange
of accented and unaccented syllables.' The carry
ing through of this hypothesis involved such whole
sale mutilation of the text that it has been almost
universally abandoned, though Bickell's brilliant
work in textual criticism will long preserve his name
in honour. The original position of Meier and Ley
has been strongly fortified by the recent studies of
expert metricists like Sievers 2 and Rothstein,3
as the result of which it may with real confidence
be asserted that Hebrew metre, like Anglo-Saxon
and later English, is governed by the number of
strong accents within the verse, the intervals being
filled by a somewhat free choice of weaker elements,
their number being limited, in fact, solely by the
demands of musical time. The same principle has
recently been established as regulative in Assyro-
Babylonian poetry. And, in spite of the influence
of classical Arabic, it still survives in the folk-poetry
of Palestine, as elsewhere through the simpler strata
of Semitic civilization.
1 Metrices Biblicae regulae exemplis illustratae (Innsbruck,
1879) ; Carmina veteris Testamenti metrice (Inns., 1882) ; etc,
8 Studien zur hebr. Metrik (Leipzig, 1901, and following years).
3 Grundziige des hebr. Rhythmus (Leipzig, 1909). 2

1 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
The prevailing foot in Hebrew is of the nature of
the Greek anapaest, two weak syllables being
clinched by a strongly accented one. But the trans
ition is easy to the iambic or the paean. This
lends to Hebrew verse more elasticity of movement
than the Greek feeling for symmetry would tolerate.
And the same freedom appears in the metrical struc
ture especially of the older poetry. The most fre
quent measure in Hebrew is marked by three pulses,
or strong accents, in each stichos. This type is
predominant through the Psalter, as well as in
poems like Job and Canticles, where the movement
of feeling is normal. But often in the battle-poetry,
and in certain of the more majestic Psalms, such as
the forty-sixth and sixty-eighth, a broader rhythmi
cal movement is gained by the breaking in of the four-
pulsed type, analogous to our own ballad-metre.
In the swift rush of battle, or the gaiety of the
dance, this may resolve itself into short musical
phrases of two pulses each, a variety which adds
much to the life and energy of the poetry (cf. Exod.
xv. gff. ; Song ii. 8ff.). But the most interesting
measure in Hebrew is the elegiac, which consists
essentially in a combination of the three- and two-
pulsed metres. The peculiarity of the elegiac type
was first noted by Lowth, who in his study of Lam.
i.-iv. observed that ' the verses are clearly longer by
almost one half than those we usually meet else-

Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry 1 9
where.' 1 A more precise definition was given by
Bellermann, who found the prevailing structure of
Lam. iii. to be a hemistich of three feet followed
by another of two, and proposed in consequence to
name the measure ' five-footed.' 2 Ley also de
scribed it as the ' elegiac pentameter.' 3 But it was
reserved for Budde to explain the real nature of the
verse. As a sequel to his youthful assault on Ley's
metrical system, he established afresh this ' one
fixed metrical form,' which he found in evidence,
not merely through the four related chapters of
Lamentations, but wherever poet or prophet fell into
the dirge-note for the dead. Budde characterized
the measure as a ' limping ' or broken one, finely
expressing the choking of the voice in the hour of
grief or agony, and peculiarly associated, as it is
to the present day, with the laments of the mourning
women. Thus he suggested for the verse the name
of the kindh, or lamentation, measure.4 As the
result of further investigation, Budde traced the kindh
measure through large sections of II Isaiah, in the
Songs of Ascents, and even in Psalms like the
twenty-third and twenty-seventh, where the note
is distinctively joyous. The apparent contradiction
he sought to explain by the theory that lamentations
in Israel came to be associated mainly with the
1 Op. cit., p. 260. 2 Versuch, etc., p. 137.
3 Grundzuge, etc,, pp. 521, * ZATW., 1882, pp. iff,

20 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
sorrows of Zion, and that " songs of Zion,' and hence
also lyrics of very different quality and motive,
assumed the elegiac dress.1 But one need not resort
to so artificial an hypothesis. Under the influence
of any keen emotion — of joy as well as grief — the
voice will quiver and break. Thus the choking
elegiac measure is equally appropriate to both ex
tremes of feeling. And the transition is easily
effected, not only in Hebrew poetry, but also in
Greek and Latin, where the plaintive elegiac, the
original accompaniment of the funeral dirge, has
become a popular metre also for songs of love and
pleasure. The unit in Hebrew poetry is thus the verse, con
sisting normally of two stichoi in parallel relation.2
That these units are often combined to form larger
groups (stanzas or strophes) is evident from several
indications, such as the phenomena of alphabetical
poems, where two or more verses are linked together
under the heading of successive letters of the alpha
bet, the appearance of refrains in a number of the
Psalms and elsewhere, and the recurrence of the
musical term seldh, usually at the close of well-
marked sections of the poem. But even apart from
1 ZATW., 1891, pp. 234a., 1892, pp. 31ft., 26iff,
* Tristichs are occasionally found, e.g. in parts of the Song of
Moses (Exod. xv.), a few Psalms like xxiv. 76., xiv. and c,
and certain later elements of Job (xxiv, 12ft., xxx, iff,).

Characteristics of Hebrew Poetry 2 1
signs like these, clear divisions of thought may be de
tected in the movement of the piece. On these ob
servations various theories of strophic arrangement
have been built. The most elaborate is D. H. Miiller's
scheme of Responsion, based on parallelism of the
strophes. On the other hand, Duhm and Rothstein
bring virtually the whole of Hebrew poetry into
simple quatrains, or two-versed stanzas. That
many of the Psalms, and even the speeches of Job,
and the bulk of the love-songs in Canticles, fall easily
into such a scheme is obvious. But one cannot
impose it on battle-songs, and national odes like the
Blessings of the patriarchs or the Song of Moses
(Deut. xxxii.), without doing grave violence to the
text. And the refrains and selahs show that in the
Psalms also the stanzas were by no means of the
uniform length of two verses. Here again, there
fore, we must allow for more freedom than rigid
theory concedes.
The important place sustained by rhyme in Arabic
poetry has naturally raised the question of its exist
ence in Hebrew. It seems abundantly clear that
it plays no regular or essential part. But that the
Hebrew poets were sensitive to the aesthetic effects
of rhyme appears from various sporadic proofs.
Thus the old Song of Lamech, perhaps the earliest
fragment of poetry in the Bible, has a distinct play
of rhyme in i and im. Other traces of the love of

2 2 The Poets of the Old Testament
rhyme may be observed in the folk-poetry of the
Old Testament, one of the finest examples being
found in the Philistines' rough satire over the
blinded Samson (Judg. xvi. 24), with its constant
harping on the sound of enu. But in the more
deliberate art of Lamentations, Psalms and Job the
same effects are aimed at. We are, doubtless,
still far removed from the brilliant rhyming triumphs
of Arabic poetry. In Hebrew verse the rhymes are
but pleasing jingles of sound, like assonance or
alliteration, introduced as an added decoration or
grace, to enhance the beauty of the poetry. But
even thus we may discern in them the workings of
the same artistic impulse that carried the genius of
the Arabs to such heights of attainment.

CHAPTER II
The Folk-Poetry of Israel
Among all nations the earliest manifestations of
the poetic instinct are found in folk-song. Primi
tive people are invariably singers. At work or
play, in the fields or by the hearth, in the excite
ment of the chase or the glow of battle, under the
thrilling joy of victory or the hopeless sorrow of
death, they give vent to their feelings in the moving
rhythmical accents of song. In its crude beginnings
folk-song appears to have been a communal concern,
which consisted largely in a repetition of simple,
expressive sounds, to a wonderfully exact rhythmical
beat. Out of the primitive communal song was
evolved, in due course, the women's chorus, with its
responsive reiteration of some simple theme, varied
by a refrain in which the whole singing throng took
part. With the gradual emergence of the individual
above the crowd, there came to the birth those early
epics, ballads, recitatives and odes, which often
show such real beauty and deep, haunting pathos.
From this stage of adolescent art there is but a
Step to poetic genius. The poet is the thrice-blest

24 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
favourite of heaven, who to purity of feeling and
range of imagination adds the supreme gift of
expression. It might be assumed, then, that folk-poetry was
part of the natural inheritance of the Hebrews. And
this is abundantly borne out by evidence scattered
throughout the Old Testament. For, though the
Book is pre-eminently a religious Anthology, rehgion
is by no means at variance with the simple
joys of human fife. Thus it has preserved for us,
not merely allusions to Israel's love of popular
poetry, but not a few precious fragments, saved
from the general wreckage of secular hterature,
which show that the folk-poetry of Israel covered
as extensive a field as that of other nations.
Of songs of labour, those relating to the culture
of the vine fill the largest place. The happy
choruses of the vine-dressers are distinctly recaUed
in Isaiah's Song of the Vineyard (ch. v.), which no
doubt takes its form from these. So also in Isa.
xvi. 10 the stern shout of battle is pictured as break
ing in upon the joyous singing of the labourers in
the vineyard and the wine-press, making the vin
tage ' shout ' to cease. In Jer. xxv. 30 the trium
phal ' shout ' with which Jahweh descends on
the inhabitants of the earth is actually likened to
the hilarious 'shouting' of those who tread the
grapes ; while in Jer. xlviii. 33 this ' shouting '

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 2 5
passes for ever from Moab before the fury of
Jahweh's wrath.1 It is most probable that the
fragment —
Destroy it not;
For u blessing is in it,
associated with the finding of the new wine in the
cluster (Isa. lxv. 8), is an actual snatch from some
old vintage song. And the tune of this, or another
nearly-related folk-song, would seem to be indicated
in the familiar head-line, 'al-tashfyeth, ' Destroy not '
(Pss. lvii. i;lviii. i, etc.). In the passage already
cited, Isa. xvi. 10, the 'joy of the fruitful field ' is
coupled with that of the vine-dressers, while in the
great Messianic vision of Isa. ix. 3 the exultant joy
of the re-born nation is compared with ' the joy of
harvest,' equally with the more tumultuous joy ' of
those that share the spoil.' The prophet has
here before his imagination the glad shouts and
songs with which the reapers celebrated the joy of
harvest-home. In the Song of Deborah (Judg.
v. 11, 15) we have almost certain references to the
merry shepherd-songs that were heard ' beside the
troughs,' accompanied by sweet ' flutings for flocks.'
A charming little well-song, inspired by the finding
1 In these passages the technical term for the 'shout' is
"1"^!? (Mdad), doubtless the catchword of the old vintage
choruses.

2 6 The Poets of the Old Testament
or digging of a well in the desert, has been preserved
in Num. xxi. 17L,1
Spring up, well ;
Sing in response to it —
WeU that the princes digged,
That the rulers of the people delved,
With their sceptres and their staves,
A gift from the desert ; 2
while songs more directly bearing on the beauties
of Nature are suggested by those headings of the
1 This song has been compared with the well-songs which
Arab women still sing as they draw the water in their buckets
(cf. Dalman's collection in his Paldstinischer Diwan, pp. 45ff.).
But Budde is more probably correct in finding here the festal
celebration of the opening of a well in the desert. Thus Nilus
speaks of the nomadic Arabs of his day dancing round a new
found well, and singing songs to it, as though it were a living
being. From Musil's monumental Kusejr Amra (1907) T. H.
Weir quotes a well- song of the present day almost identical with
that of our text : —
Spring up, O well,
Flow copiously.
Drink and disdain not,
With a staff have we dug it.
In both cases the digging by the (princes' ) staff is a symbolical
action, like the laying of foundation-stones or planting of mem
orial trees by distinguished men of the present. ' In what
appears to be an absolutely waterless desert, water may be found
by digging amongst the stones of the dry torrent bed. The
stones are removed by the hand, though the process is described
as digging. The chiefs rarely take part in the work, but the
" well," when formed, is always said to have been dug by Sheikh
So-and-so' (T. H. Weir, Expos., July, 1910, p. 81).
' At the close of the song I have followed Budde in reading
rOPlD 111*?1?' from Me desert a gift, instead of the meaningless
ilJPlD laiap-l, and from the wilderness to Mattanah,

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 2 7
Psalter which prescribe Psalms to be sung 'al-'ayyeleth
hashshahar, ' to the tune of The Hind of the Morning '
(Ps. xxii. i),1 'al-shoshannim, ' to the tune of The
Lilies ' (Pss. xiv. i ; lx* i, etc.),2 and 'al-yonath
'elim rehdkim, ' to the tune of The Dove of the Distant
Terebinths ' (Ps. lvi. i) .3
But far more numerous than either of these classes
are the songs of battle and victory. Israel sprang
from a race that took the keenest delight in warfare.
Thus the sword-song of the proud Bedouin chieftain
Lamech (Gen. iv. 23L) literally reeks of blood and
vengeance. And long after Israel had passed be
yond the Bedouin stage of civilization, the fierce
joy of battle fired the hearts of the people, and
inspired their most stirring strains. To a wild
war-chant Deborah roused the hosts of Jahweh's
people against Sisera (Judg. v. 12). In like manner,
the defiant notes of Sheba, when he moved Israel

1 The ' hind of the morning ' is doubtless a poetical descrip
tion of the dawn. In the same way, the Arabic poet Imru'l-
Kais addresses Night as a ' slow camel dragging his hind-feet
haltingly.' s This would be a song in celebration of the beauty of the
' lilies of the field,' the brilliantly coloured poppies or anemones
which still shed such a glory over the landscape of Palestine.
3 With the old Dove-song we may compare the Swallow-song
with which the Greek country-folk celebrated the return of spring.
The popular Hebrew mind was evidently just as sensitive as the
Greek to the charms of Nature and the real human interest of the
wild life of the woods and fields.

28 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
to cast off its allegiance to David, are cast in the
mould of a simple battle-song : —
No portion have we in David,
Nor lot in the son of Jesse :
Each man to his tent, O Israel (2 Sam. xx. 1).
Victory was hailed with songs of triumph. The
victors themselves would break into shouts of ecstatic
rejoicing ; 1 while the women went forth to meet
them in singing, dancing bands. Thus Miriam and
her sisters in Israel celebrated the destruction of
the Egyptians with choruses of responsive song
(Exod. xv. 21) 2 :—
Sing to the Lord, for great hath He shown Himself ;
The horse and his rider He hath hurled in the sea.
Of Jephthah's daughter, too, we read that she ' came
to meet him with timbrels and dancing choruses,'
to rejoice with him in his victory over Ammon
(Judg. xi. 34). The glorious triumphs of David
were likewise hailed by women's voices in the festive
couplet that so roused the wrath of Saul : —
1 The catch-note of these triumphal choruses would seem to
have been hal (with a prolonged trill), verbalized in the Heb,
hallel (as in hallelujah, ' praise ye Jahweh ') and Ar. halhal. The
modern Arabs still trill the syllable li or lu in songs of victory,
as well as in their marriage festivities (cf. Littmann, Neuarab-
ische Volkspoesie, pp. 87f.).
s njtf, answer, hence sing tn response. It is unfortunate that
the R.V. here adheres to the literal rendering answered, which con
veys so little of the real significance to the English reader. In
the parallel passage, 1 Sam, xviii, 7, it translates more adequately
sang one to another.

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 29
Saul hath slain his thousands ;
But David his ten thousands (i Sam. xviii, 6f.)<
Out of these simple responses, at the touch of poetic
inspiration, there rose more elevated strains. Thus
the joyous verse of Miriam and her women-folk
has provided a theme for the great ' Song of Moses,' 1
with its splendour of description, and swift, dramatic
movement (Exod. xv. iff.) : —
/ will sing to the Lord, for great hath He shown Himself ;
The horse and his rider He hath hurled in the sea.
My strength and my song is Jahweh ;
And He is become my salvation.
This is my God, and I'll praise Him —
The God of my father, I'll laud Him.
Jahweh, the Lord of battles,
Jahweh's His name.
The chariots of Pharaoh He hath flung in the sea ;
The flower of his warriors are sunk in the Sedge?
1 The later date of the ' Song of Moses ' is suggested, not
merely by its absence from the earliest sources, J and E, and the
fine preservation of the text, as compared with the Song of
Deborah, but likewise by its following the history of Jahweh's
goodness to the establishment of His people on ' the mount of
His heritage,' and by the developed art and language ofthe piece.
A few commentators have broughtlt as late as the post-exilic age,
on the assumed ground that v. 8 depends on the priestly account
of the massing of the waters as a wall on either hand. But the
description here seems rather like a bold poetic figure, the liberal
izing of which led to P's exaggerated account. The triumphant
joy in Jahweh's guidance, and the feeling of pride in His ' heri
tage ' of Zion, would accord better, we believe, with a date in the
hey-day of the monarchy.
1 The scene of the great deliverance is CJ-"ID"D*, ' the Sea of
Sedge,' the shallow northern extremity of the Gulf of Sue?.

3 o The Poets of the Old Testament
The oceans cover them :
They went down in the depths like a stone.
Thy right hand, 0 Lord, is glorious in power ;
Thy right hand, O Lord, doth shatter the foemen.
By the might of Thine excellence Thou dost pluck down th' uprisers ;
Thou dost send forth Thy wrath — it consumes them as stubble.
By the blast of Thy nostrils the waters were massed ;
The floods stood up like a wall :
The abysses congealed in the heart of the sea.
Said the foe : ' I'll pursue, I'll catch up,
I'll apportion the spoil, I'll sate my soul on them ;
My sword I'll make bare, my hand will destroy them.'
Thou didst blow with Thy wind ; the sea did cover them :
They sank like a plummet in waters o'erwhelming.
Who is like Thee 'mong the gods, 0 Jahweh ?
Who is like Thee, glorious in holiness,
Fearful in praises, wondrous in deed ?
Thou didst stretch forth Thy hand : the earth did swallow them.
In Thy love Thou leddest the folk Thou redeemedst ;
With Thy strong hand didst guide them to the place of Thy holiness.
The peoples did hear it, and tremble ;
Pangs laid hold of the dwellers in Palestine.
All dismayed were the chieftains of Edom ;
The princes of Moab — trembling hath fallen on them :
Melted are all the dwellers in Canaan.
Falleth upon them terror and trembling ;
By the might of Thine arm they are still as a stone,
Till Thy people pass over, 0 Lord,
Pass over the folk Thou hast gotten.
Thou dost bring them, and plant them on the mount of Thy heri
tage,
On the place Thou didst make for Thy dwelling, 0 Jahweh —
The Holy Place, Lord, which Thy hands did establish.
Jahweh shall reign for ever and ever.

On a yet higher plane of poetic inspiration stands

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 3 1
the triumphal hymn of Deborah (Judg. v.),1 a song
that for force and fire is worthy to be placed along
side the noblest battle-odes in any language. Here
every phase of the glorious battle for freedom, the
ebb and flow in the surging tide of victory, the bril
liant deeds of heroism displayed ' on the heights of the
field,' and the undying shame of those who refused
to come ' to the help of Jahweh among the heroes,'
are painted in living, throbbing, heart-stirring
words. The closing scene, too, with its vivid por-
1 That the ' Song of Deborah ' is practically contemporan
eous with the battle of Kishon, and was composed by one who
played a personal part in the great deliverance of Israel, is doubted
by no serious critic. The only question raised is as to the actual
authorship. From the reference to Deborah in the third person
(very probably in v. 7, and certainly in v. 12), it is widely
assumed that the heroine herself cannot have been the author.
But poets, both ancient and modern, have not unfrequently
affected such an impersonal mode of address. And there is no
one of the age with whom the Song can be more fittingly associ
ated than the heroic figure to whose zeal for God and people the
victory was mainly due. None felt so deeply the thrill of the
battle. None rejoiced more fervently in the triumph of * Jah
weh's people.' And none appears so richly endowed with the
' inspiration ' which is the gift of poet and prophet alike. In
early times, too, songs of victory were the peculiar concern of the
women of the tribe or people, And in this Song the closing scene,
at least, with its intimate insight into the thoughts and fears of
the feminine heart, strongly suggests the authorship of a woman.
The text has unfortunately suffered with unusual severity from
the lapse of time. In certain parts, chiefly about the middle of
the poem, it is almost unintelligible. Textual scholarship has,
however, done much to restore a plausible sense. The following
translation is based on what appear the most reasonable emenda
tions (cf. Kittel, Biblia Hebraica).

32 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
traiture of character, and its sharp contrasts of fear,
dismay, and hope, is one of real dramatic power,
tragical in its suggestion of impending evil, suddenly
broken off by ominous silence.
Hear, O kings,
Give ear, ye princes !
I to Jahweh — even I will sing,
I will sing praises to Jahweh, the God of Israel.1
Lord, when Thou wentest from Seir,
When Thou marchedst from the plateau of Edom,
Earth trembled, even the heavens were shaken,
The clouds also dropped water;
Rent were the hills before Jahweh,
Before Jahweh, the God of Israel.
In the days of Shamgar, the high roads were deserted,
And the way-farers went by winding paths.
Still lay the villages in Israel,
And hushed was the work of the country-folk.*
Ceased sacrifice to God,
Bread failed in the gates.
No shield was seen, or spear,
'Mong the forty thousands in Israel ;
Until Debdrdh arose,3
Arose a mother in Israel.

1 This verse has all the appearance of an opening address. I
have, therefore, omitted the otherwise disputed v. 2 as a
corrupt variant to v. 9.
2 The introduction of Deborah's name in v. 7 seems prema
ture. In the translation the verse has been reserved for the close
of the picture of Israel's sorrow, while a new stichos has been
inserted to complete the parallelism.
* For 'riDj!?, / arose, LXX has the third person, which is more
in harmony with the rest of the Song.

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 3 3
My heart to the rulers of Israel,
The people's willing leaders 1 l
Ye that ride on ruddy asses,
And couch on costly cushions ;
Ye that walk along the highways,
Your praises give to Jahweh !
And hark ! round the troughs the sound of the joy-makers I
There sing they Jahweh's righteous acts,
Righteous acts to His country-folk in Israel.
Rouse, rouse, Debdrah !
Rouse, rouse, send forth the battle-song !
Up with thee, Barak !
Lead forth thy captive train, thou son of Abinoam I *
Then trooped down Israel in its might,
Down to him Jahweh's people— a band of heroes.
From Ephraim marched men to the plain,
His brother Benjamin in his ranks;3
From Machir marshals of the field,
From Zebulon wielders of the baton.
Men of Issachar marched with Debdrah,
And men of Naphtali with Barak ;
Through the plain they poured1 in his steps.

1 I have removed the disputed words HIIT -13 '1.3 from the close
of v. 9 to the corresponding place in v. io, treating •IfPB' as
variant to the -inn; of v. n, representing perhaps an original
8 The LXX has the interesting, and possibly original, variant :
Rouse, rouse, Deborah !
Rouse the myriads of thy people !
Up with thee, Barak ! put on thy strength I
Lead captive thy captors, thou son of Abinoam I
3 Instead of ^tJK., after thee, LXX reads ' thy brother.' The
third sing, would, however, be more in harmony with the context,
4 The word rhp, in the sense of ' was poured out,' may be
allowed to remain, if only we read the plur. .inW. 3

34 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
Among the clansmen of Reuben
Were deep searchings of heart.1
Then why didst thou stay by the sheepfolds,
To list to the flutings for flocks ?
Gilead abode beyond Jordan,
And Dan sat still by the ships.
Asher stayed on the sea-shore,
Quietly abode by his havens.
But Zebulon — he flung his soul to the death,
With Naphtali, 'long the heights of the field.
The kings came and fought ;
Then fought kings of Canaan,
At Taanach, by the waters of Megiddo :
But spoil of silver they took not !
From heaven fought the stars,
From their courses they fought against Sisera.
Then pounded the hoofs of the horses,
With the gallop, the gallop of strong ones ;2
And the river of Kishon swept them away,
The on-rushing river of Kishon.
Curse ye Meroz, saith Jahweh ;
With curses curse its inhabitants.
For they came not to Jahweh's help,
To Jahweh's help 'mong the heroes.
But blessed above women be Jael,
A bove women that dwell in the tent !
Water he asked, and milk she gave him .
Buttermilk brought in a lordly bowl.
Her hand she put to the peg,
Her right hand to workman's hammer;
Down smote she on Sisera, struck at his head,
Smashed on him, crashed through his temple.
1 V. 1 66 is, doubtless, but an (improved) version of v. 15.
8 The gallop of the strong ones is unduly protracted in the
Mass. text. I have followed Budde in reading the verse before
21. The closing words of that verse are probably a mere liturgi
cal addition,

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 3 5
At her feet he swayed, and fell ;
Where he swayed, he fell down dead.
Through the window looks and peers
Through the lattice the mother of Sisera :
' Why stays his carriage its coming ;
Why tarry the wheels of his chariots ? '
Of her ladies the wisest answers,
She herself gives bach reply :
' Do they not find and divide the spoil ?
A wench or two for each warrior ;
A spoil of dyed stuff for Sisera,
For his neck a meed of embroidery ? ' 1
The scene of the stars from their courses in heaven
joining in the fight with Sisera is a fine illustration
of the boldness of Hebrew imagination. But an
even more striking example is found in the battle-
song of the great ' day of Gibeon ' (Josh. x. I2f.),
where Joshua commands the very sun and moon to
stay their flight, until Israel shall wreak its ven
geance on the enemy : —
Sun t stand thou still upon Gibeon,
And thou moon I in the vale of Ajalon.
So the sun stood still, and the moon rested there,
Till the folk had their lust on their foes.
As among other nations, songs of victory in Israel
pass occasionally into satire. A good example
is offered in the mashal over Moab (Num. xxi.
27ff.) 2 :—
1 At the close of the Ode the text is evidently overladen. Of
the various possibilities I have adopted i"lK}¥? E?DO[?"! i"IDp>*!
one piece, two pieces, of embroidery for his neck, as most in
harmony with the context (cf. LXX).
' The song is introduced in Numbers as a satire of Sihon and
the Amorites over conquered Moab, But the ' city of Sihon '

3 6 The Poets of the Old Testament
Go ye to Heshbon ;
Let the city of Sihon be built and restored I
For fire went forth from Heshbon,
A flame from the city of Sihon ;
It devoured the cities of Moab,
And consumed the heights of the Arnon.
Woe to thee, Moab !
Undone art thou, people of Chemosh I
His sons hath he given to be fugitives,
And his daughters captives for kings.1
We smote them (?) from Heshbon to Dibon ;
We wasted their land (?) to Medeba*
The curious little fragment in the earlier part of
the chapter, remarkable chiefly for its list of place-
names, might almost be regarded as the original
itself falls in the general ruin. The satire is almost certainly,
therefore, that of the triumphant Israelites. It can thus hardly
be as ancient as the Conquest of Palestine. The flame of devas
tation here spreads not northward, as on Israel's march to Pales
tine, but from Heshbon south to the water-courses of the Arnon,
The satire is consequently related by Stade and Baentsch to the
conquest of Moab by Omri. But the place it occupies in a col
lection of ' minstrels' songs,' and the highly corrupt state of
the text, would argue for a considerably earher date. We in
cline to connect it with David's conquests (cf. 2 Sam. viii. 2), in
which the parallel fragment from the ' Book of the Wars of
Jahweh' (Num. xxi. 14!) would also find a suitable setting.
The description of Heshbon as the " city of Sihon ' is no real
objection to this view. We have only to assume that the name
of Sihon continued to be associated with his former capital even
after it had passed into the power of Moab.
1 On the explanation given above, JllTD HDX must be a later
interpolation. We should simply read "i]?©7.
2 The reading is corrupt, perhaps beyond hope of restoration.
The translation given above is purely conjectural. The verse
does, however, appear to describe the wide extent of the devasta
tion of Moab.

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 3 7
sequel to the satire on Moab, were it not composed
in a different metre, and drawn from a different
source (cf. Num. xxi. 14!). It appears to describe
the pursuit of Moab, or the devastation of the
country,
To Waheb in Suphah (?)
And the valleys of Arnon,
Even the cliffs of the valleys
That slope down to 'Ar,
And lean on the border of Moab.
A coarser species of satire appears in Samson's
rough jest-song (Judg. xv. 16), with its grim play
on the word hdmor : —
With the jawbone of an ass have I massed a mass ;
With the jawbone of an ass have I slain a thousand.
But the Philistines also could retaliate on their fallen
foe in the rude rhymes already referred to (Judg.
xvi. 24) : —
Our god hath given to our hands our foe,
That wasted our land, and made many our slain.
A far nobler development of triumphal odes is
found in songs of national hope and aspiration.
The earliest of these, the so-called ' Blessing of
Noah ' (Gen. ix. 25ff.), runs back perhaps to the
Tel el-Amarna period (c. 1400 B.C.), and shows the
racial pride of the Hebrews already asserting itself
against the degraded Canaanites : —
Cursed be Canaan !
Slave of slaves let him be to his brethren I

3 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
Jahweh bless Shem's tents;
And let Canaan be his slave !
God enlarge Japheth I
His dwelling be Shem's tents ;
And let Canaan be his slave I
But Israel soon became conscious of its unique posi
tion and destiny even within the narrower circle of
the Hebrew peoples. This dawning self-conscious
ness of the chosen race comes to its clearest expres
sion through the age-long rivalry with Edom, the
most nearly related of the three. In the old birth-
song (Gen. xxv. 23), * the ultimate supremacy of
the younger ' brother ' is already presaged : —
Two nations are in thy womb ;
Two peoples part from thy bowels.
People shall crush down people ;
The elder shall serve the younger.
A richer poetic cast is given to Israel's hope in
Isaac's Blessing (Gen. xxvii. 27ff.).2 But the most
glowing picture of its future prosperity is drawn in
the four oracles of Balaam, the son of Beor (Num.
xxiii., xxiv.)3: —
1 The birth-song comes from the Jahwistic narrative, and
thus represents the oldest tradition of Israel.
8 The ' Blessing of Isaac ' is a blend of J and E, and conse
quently shows the original tradition maturing in both the king
doms of Israel.
3 The proud consciousness of national prosperity and un-
dimmed hope which pervades these poems, and the explicit allu
sion to the king in xxiv, 7 and 17, point to a date aboutthe very
dawn of the monarchy. The recent attempt of von Gall to bring

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 3 9
Balak brought me from Edom1
Moab's king from the hills of the East.
Come, said he, curse me Jacob ;
Come, prithee, damn me Israel !
How can I curse whom God hath not cursed ?
Or how can I damn whom the Lord hath not damned ?
From the top of the rocks I see him,
From the crest of the hills I behold him —
A people that dwelleth apart,
Nor is counted as one of the nations.
To this favourite of Heaven all goodness is promised
(xxiv. 5ff.) :—
How lovely thy tents, O Jacob,
Thy dwellings, O Israel !
As valleys that stretch afar,2
As gardens watered by rivers ;
As oaks that Jahweh hath planted,
As cedars beside the waters.
Waters shall flow from his buckets,
And his seed dwell by many waters.3

the whole four oracles down to the post-exilic age seems to the
present writer to break down on this rock. At most, the Appen
dices (xxiv. 2off.), with their very different outlook, arrangement,
and style, may be assigned to the later period. Cf. G. B. Gray,
Numbers, pp. 313ft.
1 The D"1K of the Mass. text is evidently a mere penman's slip
for D'lX.
• The stichos is metrically incomplete. We might, with Hol-
zinger etc., read 7>X Htpj, as valleys that God hath spread out, which
would bring it into fine harmony with the first stichos ofthe follow
ing verse.
3 The reading here is very uncertain. Suggestions from LXX
and elsewhere give us the following couplet : —
Peoples shall tremble at his might ;
And his arm shall be on many nations.

40 The Poets of the Old Testament
His king shall be mightier than Agag,1
And his kingdom exalted on high.
The series concludes with a dazzling vision of the
king rising in triumph over all his enemies (xxiv.
17):- I see him, but not now ;
I behold him, but not nigh.
There gleameth a star from Jacob,
Ariseth u ruler from Israel.
He shall smite through the temples of Moab,
The crown of all children of Sheth.2
But the individual tribes not only shared in the
glorious aspirations of the people. They had like
wise their own clan-spirit and consciousness. A fine
reflection of the character and destiny of the separate
members of the commonwealth of Israel, as con
ceived by themselves or by one another, is found in
the ' Blessing of Jacob ' (Gen. xlix.), which is really
a complex of different tribal oracles, ranging in origin
from the rough period of the Judges to the final
1 The allusion to Agag, the contemporary of Samuel and Saul,
is certainly surprising, even if the poems date from the beginning
of the monarchy. LXX has Gog, which may be a mistake for
Og, the king of Bashan, a much happier comparison in an oracle
bearing the name of Balaam.
* For ~>|?"lj21 we must certainly read Tp"Tpl, as the Samaritan
Version does. The precise significance of r\$ is uncertain. In Jer.
xlviii. 45, where the passage is quoted, it is supplanted by ]1KEJ>,
tumult or confusio n. It is probably better, however, to retain
TV0, and to regard it as the name of some unknown people or
district.

The Folk- Poetry of Israel 4 1
establishment of the monarchy.1 The portraitures
of character are here most happily drawn : for
example, that of Reuben the first-bom, ' first in
dignity and power,' who, for his ' swelling lust,'
should not be ' left the first ' (vv. 3L), or of Simeon
and Levi, that ' well-matched pair of brothers,'
who should be divided among their brethren for
their ' cursed anger ' (vv. 5ff.), that of Issachar
the ' big-boned ass, crouching beneath the panniers,'
who found a pleasant place to rest in, and so ' bowed
his shoulder to the yoke, and became a slaveling '
(vv. 14I), or of little Dan, the ' fiery snake,' who
could at least ' bite the horse's heels,' and thus ' bring
down the rider backward ' (v. 17). But the crown
ing glory is reserved for Judah, the lion tribe, who
embodies in himself the hope of all the brethren : —
The sceptre departs not from Judah,
Nor the staff from between his feet,
Till He come whose right is to reign,2
Whose is the homage of nations (v. 10).
A collection of similar oracles of a more developed
type, betraying the consciousness of the tribes in
the North, at some period subsequent to the Disrup-
1 Cf. Gunkel, Genesis, pp. 249s. ; Skinner, Genesis, pp. 510 ff.
* By far the most probable solution of the problem of i"lVE>
seems to be found in the reading of practically all the versions,
supported by the allusion in Ezek. xxi. 32, viz. V?&, he to whom
it is. We should have here, then, an early expression of the
Messianic hope of Israel. Cf. Gunkel, op, cit., p. 436, where the
oracle is regarded as a clear evidence of 'pre-prophetic eschatology.'

42 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
tion of the kingdom, meets us in the ' Blessing of
Moses ' (Deut. xxxiii.) . Here the note is distinctively
religious. The centre of national interest, too, has
very considerably changed. Reuben has dwindled
to but a ' few.' Simeon has altogether vanished
from the roll. On the other hand, Levi has attained
his high priestly dignity, while Judah is isolated
and depressed. The only blessing sought for him is
that Jahweh may bring him back to his people (v.
7). His once royal rank is now upheld by Joseph,
or Ephraim, on whom all the best blessings are
showered (vv. I3ff.). And the song closes with an
outburst of praise to Jahweh, the God of Jeshurun
(Israel), ' that rides through the heavens to his help,'
and of rejoicing for Israel, who under His protecting
wing ' dwelleth in safety,' in the good land He has
given them, ' a land of corn and wine,' from which
they shall go forth in strength to reduce the nations,
and to ' trample down their high places ' (vv. 26ff .) .
But the sweeter joys of life found also their voice
in song. A large part of other national anthologies
is filled with lays of childhood, love and marriage.
These have unfortunately vanished from the treas
uries of Israel's song, the only faint survivals being
found in the naive wedding-wish to whose strains
Rebecca left for her new home (Gen. xxiv. 60) .1
1 The Song of Hannah (i Sam. ii. iff.) is really a highly-devel
oped hymn to Jahweh, in the style of the later Psalms, The

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 43
There is much more abundant allusion to the songs
that increased the gaiety of social life. For the
impulse to song lay very near the heart of the Heb
rews. Under the bright sunshine of prosperity,
men and their children together ' lifted up their voice
to the music of the timbrel and the harp ' (Job xxi.
nf.). The widow's heart ' sang for joy ' when she
found a friend (Job xxix. 13). The young men
sang and played at the gates (Lam. v. 14L). The
happy hours of festal gatherings were passed in
song and dance, jest and riddle (Judg. xiv. nff.)
The parting guest was sped on his way ' with sounds
of mirth and song ' (Gen. xxxi. 27). In later times
song was the recognized accompaniment of feasts.
The court had its retinue of singing men and women.1
And private houses increasingly aped the fashion of
the palace. The prophets make frequent reference
to the senseless songs that disgraced the festive joy
at the tables of the rich (cf. Amos vi. 5I ; Isa.
xxiv. 9 ; Jer. vii. 34, etc.). In the Apocryphal
one genuine example of a royal wedding-song we have in the
Old Testament belongs to the Psalter (cf. Ps. xiv.).
1 This practice appears as early as the reign of David, the
aged Barzillai pleading exemption from attendance at court on
the ground that he has no more pleasure in ' the voice of singing
men and singing women ' (2 Sam. xix. 35) . It prevailed equally
to the close of the kingdom ; for among the gifts sent him by
Hezekiah, king of Judah, Sennacherib enumerates ' his daugh
ters and the women of the palace, singing men and singing
women.'

44 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
Wisdom of Solomon we hear the actual words of
the roysterers, as they encourage each other to ' fill
themselves with costly wine and ointments, and let
no flower of the spring pass by them ; crown them
selves with rosebuds before they wither ; and leave
tokens of their jollity in every place they pass '
(ii. 6ff.), in the very spirit, and almost the language,
of the Persian epicure, Omar Khayyam.
These foolish drinking-songs might even degen
erate into coarse jests at the expense of the poor
and unfortunate. Thus in Job's ' crown of sorrow '
not the least cruel thorn was the reflection that he
was now become the ' song and byword ' of those
who once held him in honour (xxx. 9). And other
suffering saints have the same lament to make ;
They are ' the song of drunkards ' (Ps. lxix.
12) ; even ' to all peoples a derision — their song all
the day ' (Lam. iii. 14).
In Israel, too, the silence of death was broken by
the mournful strains of lamentation. True pictures
of Oriental mourning are preserved in such texts
as Gen. 1. 10, where the children of Israel ' lament
for their father with a very great and sore lamenta
tion ; ' Judg. xi. 40, where the virgins of Israel
yearly ' lament the daughter of Jephthah the Gilead-
ite ; ' and 2 Chron. xxxv. 25, where the singing men
and women of Judah celebrate the death of good
king Josiah ' even to this day.' In the prophetic

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 45
anticipations of the sufferings of Judah, too, the
mourning women play a large part (cf. Amos v. 16 ;
Jer. ix. i7ff., etc.). These lamentations of the
Hebrews consisted in the prolonged repetition of a
certain catch-word, either 'dhdh, 'dhah (cf. Judg.
xi- 35). or hoi, hoi ; ho, ho (Amos v. 16), usually
conjoined with a word like 'dhi, ' my brother,' or
'addn, ' lord ' (i Kings xiii. 30 ; Jer. xxii. 18, etc.),
though the same effect of inconsolable sorrow might
be produced by other repetitions, as in David's
desolating lament over Absalom, ' O my son Absalom,
my son, my son Absalom ! Would God I had died
for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son ! ' (2 Sam.
xviii. 33). !
Out of these simple repetitions there emerged in
this region also those more classical utterances of
grief which long survive the shock that gave birth to
them. In the Old Testament such immortal elegies
are associated mainly with the great heart of David.
The death of Abner, the captain of the enemy's
host, moved him to poetic notes of indignant sorrow
(2 Sam. iii. 33L) : —
Was Abner to die like a fool?
Thy hands were not bound,

1 Among other nations, too, these repetitions constitute the
essence of the simple lament. Cf. Gummere, Beginnings of
Poetry, pp. 22gfi.

46 The Poets of the Old Testament
Nor thy feet placed in fetters,
But thy fall was as that of a villain.1
Far more deeply, however, did the death of his friend
Jonathan affect him ; and this has inspired that
most tender and true expression of manly sorrow (2
Sam. i. igff.) : —

Thy glory, 0 Israel, is slain on thy
Ah I how are the heroes fallen ! 2
Tell not the news in Gath,
Nor publish in Ashkelon's markets ;
Lest the Philistines' daughters rejoice,
Lest the daughters of th' uncircumcised triumph I
Hills of Gilboa, no dew fall,
Nor rain on you, plateaus of death I 3
For there lies defiled the buckler of heroes,
The sword of Shd'Al, anointed no more.i
From the blood of the slain,
From the fat of the brave,
The bow of J'hSndthdn swerved not back.
Nor hungry came home the sword of Shd'Al.

1 To bring this fine into harmony with the first, we should omit
8 The reading of the first stanza is somewhat uncertain (cf.
LXX). But the suggestion offered in that Version appears to
be no improvement.
3 The Mass. niD-Tin is rightly read by modern critics as a cor
ruption of TWO H.PJ, the H.n being most probably an explanatory
gloss on H.'^, fields, or plateaus (cf. Judg. v. 4). For other sug
gestions, cf. G. A. Smith, Hist. Geog., p. 404.
* Here rWD should at least be altered to n-ltJ'D.andthe clause
made to refer to the anointing of shields for the battle (cf. Verg.,
A en. vii. 626, etc.). A more ingenious suggestion is to read
I1WD *??, arms of the Anointed.

The Folk- Poetry of Israel 47
Sha'Al and J'hdndthan, the loved and the lovely,
In life and in death undivided !
They were swifter than eagles,
They were stronger than lions.
Daughters of Israel, weep for Shd'Hl,
Who clothed you in scarlet luxuriously,
And with golden adorning
Decked your apparel.
Ah I how are the heroes fallen
In the thick of the fight !
0 J'hCnathan I
Thou art pierced to the death ! 1
Woe's me for thee, my brother J'hdnathdn !
Dearest of friends hast thou been.
Wonderful thy love unto me,
Passing the love of women !
Ah I how are the heroes fallen,
And perished the weapons of war !
It will be evident from such survivals of the old
folk-poetry of Israel how simply and naturally the
secular there passed into the sphere of religion.
The battle-songs of Moses and Deborah might,
indeed, with equal propriety be described as hymns
of praise to Jahweh. For He was the real Lord of
Israel's hosts. Those who trooped to the battle
under Barak and Deborah came " to the help of
Jahweh among the heroes.' And the victory was
His. For Jahweh it was who in Person ' plucked
1 I have here followed the reading of the Lucian and other
recensions of the LXX, But the text still seems to be incom
plete,

48 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
down the uprisers.' Thus the ark, which symbolized
His presence among His people, was carried in battle-
array to the strains of a real religious hymn : —
Arise, Jahweh !
And let Thine enemies be scattered,
Let all that hate Thee flee ! * (Num. x. 35) ;
and when the victory was won, it was returned to
its place amid equally sacred rites : —
Rest Thou, Jahweh !
And bless the myriads
Of the tribes of Israel ! s (Num. x. 36).
But the simple greetings of life had likewise their
religious note. In the harvest-field master and man
hailed each other with the kindly blessing —
The blessing of Jahweh be on you;
In the name of Jahweh we bless you I (Ps. cxxix. 8).
And no doubt in other spheres of labour similar
devout wishes were extended.
The worship of Jahweh was naturally accom
panied by songs of a more distinctively religious
tone. Even such a perversion of worship as the
adoration of the golden calf sent up to heaven its
joyous ' noise of them that sing ' (Exod. xxxii. 18).
1 Here also I have followed LXX in adding "^3 and omitting
1*3SD — a reading which secures a finer rhythmical effect.
* The Mass. text is clearly defective. Budde's alteration of
fig-IE' to i"OE>, with the insertion of FOll-l before the somewhat
similar lettering of DUp"!, seems to yield the happiest emendation.

The Folk-Poetry of Israel 49
On the high places, too, the worshippers celebrated
the goodness of their God with songs of almost
boisterous mirth (Amos v. 23, etc.). From its
inception, the purer worship of the Temple was like
wise attended by songs of praise to Jahweh. By a
happy fortune the Book of Kings has preserved for
us the solemn Song of Dedication with which Solomon
inaugurated this worship, a song whose accent of
reverent devotion, combined with delight in the
near presence of Jahweh, makes it a true forecast
of the nobler hymns that were in after ages to exalt
the ' house of Jahweh's habitation ' : —
In the heavens hath Jahweh set the sun,
But Himself hath chosen to dwell in darkness.
For Thee have I built an house of habitation,
A place for Thy dwelling to ages all 1(i Kings viii. I2f .) .

1 The first stichos of the Song is wanting in the Hebrew text,
but has been conjecturally restored from the "HXioy iyvdpicrev
iv oipavqi Ktipios of the LXX, tyvt&purev representing an original
J'an, a textual mistake for pan (cf. Wellhausen, Comp. des Hexa-
teuchs2, p. 271, followed by Robertson Smith, G. A. Smith, Skin
ner, etc.). Objection has recently been offered by F. C. Burkitt
and St. J. Thackeray to the rendering of lyviipurev by p3n (cf.
Journal of Theological Studies, X. 439s. ; XI. 5i8ff.). But the
results arrived at by these scholars seem to yield a less satis
factory sense. The LXX makes the last two stichoi imperative :
thus, Build me an house, etc. — placing the words in Jahweh's
mouth. The indicative, however, appears more in keeping with
the context of the poem.

CHAPTER III
Musical Accompaniments of
Hebrew Song
It has been shown how ancient folk-poetry was
never a mere literary performance, but a real song
to be sung by the popular chorus, with improviza-
tions in solo. The earliest singing appears to have
been a strongly rhythmical chant, with no musical
modulation of tone. And even when a certain feel
ing for melody was developed, the art of music long
remained in its simplest stages. A few notes
covered the whole compass of the scale, though the
smaller intervals then in vogue widened the range
to some extent. The melody of the first bar or
two was thus usually repeated through the entire
song. The sense of harmony was equally
rudimentary. Early singing was almost exclusively
in unison. The only suggestion of harmony was
found in the lower octave of the male voices. But
often this, too, was avoided, an artificial unison
being reached through falsetto.
The Old Testament contains but a few faint hints

Musical Accompaniments 5 1
as to the character of ancient Hebrew song. But
these are enough to indicate that the Hebrews
stood on the same musical platform as their neigh
bours. Here, too, the rhythm remained the pre
dominant element. Early songs like the fierce
lay of Lamech were no doubt chanted to a strongly
marked rhythm. And to a much later age the
battle-songs of Moses and Deborah were most
probably recited in rhythmic chant, with but various
unstudied modulations of voice, the immediate
expression of the feeling. A certain development
of melody is presupposed in the tunes of folk-songs
already referred to (p. 27). But these were doubt
less as simple as the popular melodies heard to the
present day among the peasantry of Palestine, and
in other centres of primitive Semitic ways. As
has been noted, ancient Hebrew song was choral,
and responsive. The one choir would break forth
into a simple strain ; the other would catch it up,
and ring a few slight changes on the same theme,
no doubt to the melody of the original chorus. This
simple responsion would often be kept up for hours
together. Even after the primitive couplet had
given place to far richer developments of folk-song,
the old melodies survived, and were actually
extended to the worship of Jahweh with no feeling
of incongruity. As among other ancient nations,
the choral singing of Israel was unisonous, In the

5 2 The Poets of the Old Testament
instrumentation of later times, indeed, an ele
mentary form of harmony does appear to have been
attempted through the striking of different octaves.
But in the actual song this was avoided by the
rigid separation of the male and female voices
which still prevails in Eastern lands.
To the cultivated taste of modern times such
primitive melodies must appear monotonous in the
extreme. But sympathetic students of Oriental
ideals have learned both to appreciate and to enjoy
their peculiar genius. The more restrained and
sonorous tones of the male voice they have found
solemn, dignified, and plaintive ; and the piercing
melodies of the women expressive in the highest
degree.1 The effect is largely intensified by the
1 Thus Lane speaks of the ' small and delicate gradations of
sound ' as giving ' a peculiar softness to the performances of
the Arab musicians, which are generally of a plaintive charac
ter ; ' and adds, ' I must confess that I generally take great
delight in the more refined kind of music which I occasionally
hear in Egypt ; and the more I become habituated to the style,
the more I am pleased with it ; though, at the same time, I
must state that I have not met with many Europeans who enjoy
it in the same degree as myself ' (Modern Egyptians, 5th edit.,
II. 58I). And Cornill, who had the privilege of listening to
selected illustrations of Arabic music at the Congress of Oriental
ists in Algiers (1905) says, ' The impression of the whole was very
striking, presumably because of the difference between male and
female singing. Never did both groups perform together in a
mixed chorus, but each group sang by itself. The song and music
of the men was very solemn and dignified, in slow time without
a distinct rhythm or melodious cadence, but in a sort of recita-

Musical Accompaniments 53
dancing which is the universal accompaniment of
ancient song. This, too, is no studied art, but
a reflection of feeling as immediate, true and full
as the song itself. In song the feeling is expressed
through rhythmical language ; in the dance by
rhythmical movements of the body. Ancient danc
ing was an act of the whole man, the intensity of
his feeling forcing itself through every member,
and finding relief in varied gestures, accompanied
by hand-clapping and the clashing of arms and
ornaments. The dance was as significant a feature
of musical utterance among the Hebrews as else
where. The singing choruses that went with Miriam
and Jephthah's daughter to celebrate the victories
of Jahweh welcomed the returning warriors ' in
dances' (Exod. xv. 20; Judg. xi. 34). And the
women who ' came out of all the cities of Israel to
meet king Saul ' rang forth the praises of David,
' singing and dancing ' (1 Sam. xviii. 6). But many
other occasions of joy were intimately associated
with the dance. The boys and girls danced at
their play (Job xxi. 11 ; cf. Matt. xi. 17). The
young men and maidens danced at the annual
tive, which is now in vogue in the latest music. The music of
the women was very different. In their performance all was
fire and hfe. They sang in a pronounced melody with sharply
accentuated rhythm in a passionate tempo, and they treated the
instruments with which they accompanied their singing with
incredible expression' (Music in the Old Testament, p. 17).

54 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
festivals (Judg. xxi. 21), and in their hours of mirth
around the city gates (Jer. xxxi. 13 ; Lam. V. 15 ;
Ps. xxx. 11). Households celebrated the return
of their lost sons with ' music and dancing ' (Luke
xv. 25). The dance was equally the expression of
religious zeal. The prophets who swept down on
Saul with their tabrets and flutes and harps (1 Sam.
x. 5ff.) were no doubt dancing to the music in their
frenzy of religious enthusiasm. King David likewise
displayed his zeal for Jahweh by dancing before
Him with all his might (2 Sam. vi. I4ff.). The
religious dance was counted not unworthy even of
the solemn worship of the Temple. For the Psalmist
calls on men to praise Jahweh ' with the dance,'
as they do with timbrel and harp (Pss. cxlix. 3, cl.
4). In equally vital relation to song stood instru
mental music. In modern times this has developed
into an independent mode of expressing feeling.
But among ancient nations it was a real daughter
of song, and always remained in a position of
dependence.1 The simplest instruments were but
1 Even to so aesthetic a people as the Greeks the melody was
strictly subordinate to the words. Songs and hymns were
avai-i<p6piuyyes, lords of the lyre (Pindar, Ol. ii. i). A grave pro
test was raised by Plato (Laws, 669, E) against attempts to di
vorce the two. And even Aristotle, who recognized more fully
the ethical quality of melody, apart from words, as a real ex
pression of the ' movement ' of the soul, insisted on the suprem-

Musical Accompaniments 55
intensifiers of the hand-clapping, stamping, and
clashing that accompanied primitive song and
dance. The most widely used, and probably also
the earliest in origin, was the drum, originally a
mere strip of hide thrown over the lap or shoulder,
though in later times its resonant power was in
creased by the round framework of wood, sherd, or
metal on which the hide was stretched. The drum
lent itself as an apt accompaniment to the rhythmic
chant and dance that formed the earliest type of
musical utterance. It yielded no melody, indeed,
but it marked the time. As such, the instrument
played a large part in the artistic life of ancient
Israel. In the passages already cited (Exod. xv.
20 ; Judg. xi. 34 ; I Sam. xviii. 6), the women's
choruses appear with tuppim, ' timbrels ' or tam
bourines — light hand drums, often highly decorated,
which kept time to the rhythm of the song and
dance. In the third of these passages (i Sam.
xviii. 6) the timbrels are associated with shalishim,
probably a species of metal triangle, which added
a pleasing tinkle to the pure rhythm of the drum.
A still further development is presupposed in the
account of the bringing of the ark to Jerusalem (2
acy of words as the most direct and adequate medium of expres
sion (Problems, xix. 10) . In like manner, the Hebrews described
musical instruments as "VB>n »Jj3, instruments of song, and
musicians as simply " singers." Their function was not to
displace, but rather to heighten the effect of, song.

5 6 The Poets of the Old Testament
Sam. vi. 5), where the timbrels are borne in com
pany with two other tinkling instruments : the
m'na'an'im, or ' shakers,' apparently metal rings
suspended on cross-bars, like the Greek sistrum,
or the modern Turkish bell-tree ; and the gel-
cHim or megiltayim, ' clatterers ' or cymbals — brass
plates struck vigorously together to produce a loud
clang. The drum apparently continued to be used
in religious processions, and other celebrations of a
joyous or popular character (cf. Pss. lxviii. 25 ;
lxxxi. 2 ; cxlix. 3) ; but alone of the percussion instru
ments the cymbals seem to have found a place in the
actual worship of the Temple (cf. 1 Chron. xxv. 6).
The use of animals' horns as loud sounding instru
ments gave the impulse to a still richer musical
development. In Old Testament history the ram's
horn is expressly mentioned in the story of the
capture of Jericho (Josh. vi. 5), and in the Chroni
cler's account of the institution of the Levitical
services (1 Chron. xxv. 5). But as the shophdr or
trumpet — a natural horn only gradually replaced
by a metal imitation of the same — it played a much
more conspicuous part among that people. The
shophdr was associated especially with scenes of
warfare. To its peremptory blasts the leader sum
moned his hosts to the battle (Judg. iii. 27 ; vi. 34 ;
1 Sam. xiii. 3, etc.). The sound of the trumpet
was equally the signal for the fray (Job xxxix. 24^).

Musical Accompaniments 57
To the same commanding notes the victorious
general called back his troops from the pursuit
(2 Sam. ii. 28 ; xviii. 16), or disbanded them to their
homes (2 Sam. xx. 22). The shophdr likewise
sounded forth the watchman's warning from the
tower (Amos iii. 6 ; Hos. v. 8, etc.). It was used,
too, for the summons of the people to such important
national functions as the proclamation of the king
(2 Sam. xv. 10 ; 1 Kings i. 34, etc.). Hence also it
passed to the service of religion, and became the
recognized instrument for the announcement of
the ' holy convocation ' on the first day of the
seventh month (Lev. xxiii. 24 ; Num. xxix. 1),
as well as the opening of the jubilee year (Lev.
xxv. 9).1 A significant place is assigned to the
shophdr in the later eschatological literature. To
the loud blasts of the trumpet the scattered Jews
are brought back to worship Jahweh in the holy
mountain of Jerusalem (Isa. xxvii. 13). According

1 To the present day, at the New Year's service and other
outstanding ritual occasions, a real ram's horn is used in the Syn
agogues. These horns are occasionally adorned with Hebrew
inscriptions, though more generally plain. They are bent at the
broad end, but otherwise straightened and flattened by heat.
This ram's horn ' is not only the one ancient musical instrument
actually preserved in the Mosaic ritual, but it is the oldest form
of wind instrument in the world still retained in use . There seems
to be Uttle doubt that it has been continually used in the Mosaic
service from the time that service was established until now '
(Wellhausen, Psalms, p. 222).

58 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
to the apocalyptic Zechariah, the Lord God Himself
blows the trumpet for the last judgment (Zech. ix.
14). And this idea has found its way into the New
Testament, and become an essential element in the
visions of the end (cf. Matt. xxiv. 31 ; 1 Cor. xv.
52 ; 1 Thess. iv. 16). But in the religious ritual of
the Jews a larger role was filled by the nearly related
hdgogerdh, which Josephus (Antiq. III. xii. 6)
describes as a silver tube, almost a cubit long,
somewhat thicker than a flute, ' with so much
breadth as sufficed for the admission of the breath
of a man's mouth,' but widening in front into a bell
shape — that is, exactly the form of instrument with
which the representations on the triumphal arch
of Titus and the later Jewish coins have made us
familiar, and which Christian art of the Middle
Ages has placed in the hands of angels. In the
earlier period of Old Testament history the hdgo-
frah was used equally with the shophdr for secular
purposes (cf . 2 Kings xi. 14 ; Hos. v. 8) ; but in
the more ritualistic age after the Restoration it was
par excellence the instrument used by the priests
in the Temple. The most explicit directions for
the use of the two silver ' trumpets ' are found in
Num. x. 2ff. ; while the Chronicler represents no
fewer than one hundred and twenty priests as blow
ing these instruments at the dedication of the
Temple (2 Chron. v. 12).

Musical Accompaniments 59
A wind-instrument in still more general vogue
is the pipe or flute, whose origin is likewise to be
sought in the mists of antiquity. The legends of
various nations have associated the flute with the
pastoral stage of civilization, attributing its inven
tion to the gods of shepherd life. There seems
little doubt that the shepherds of ancient days
whiled away the weary hours of watching on the
veldts by pipings on simple flutes cut from the reeds
that grew around them, learning the art perhaps
from the whistling of the wind on these same reeds.
But other motives appear to have entered into the
discovery. Thus Wallaschek has traced the origin
of primitive bone-flutes to the love of decoration
manifest even in the earliest stages of art.1 The
first flute was probably but a single pipe or tube,
from which one unvarying note was produced.
But a simple scale was soon secured, either by the
bundling together of several reeds of different
length, in the manner of the Pan's pipe, the proto
type of the modern pipe-organ, or by the original
device of cutting holes at different intervals of the
same reed, through the opening and shutting of
1 From the appearance of a holed flute of stag-horn among
deposits apparently of the stone age, Wallaschek concludes that
this was the earliest of all musical instruments (Primitive Music,
pp. 8if.). On the other hand, it should be borne in mind, such
an instrument would be more readily preserved than either the
drum or the ordinary pipe.

60 The Poets of the Old Testament
which a similar effect was produced. In the East
a combination of the two varieties is found in the
shape of the double flute, in which two separate
pipes are connected with the one mouth-piece.
The flute type was known to the Hebrews from
very early times. Tradition ascribes to Jubal the
invention of the 'ughdb, which was most probably
the old pastoral Pan's pipe (Gen. iv. 21). Though
little mentioned thereafter in the Old Testament,
this instrument continued as a favourite accom
paniment of the joyful songs of the people as late,
at least, as the age of Job (cf. xxi. 12 ; xxx. 31).
The most widely-used instrument of this type, how
ever, was the tydlil, a holed flute, either single or
double, probably in the beaked style so common
on the Assyrian and Egyptian monuments. Thus
the hdlil formed part of the orchestral accompani
ment of the prophetic band that met Saul at Gibeah
(1 Sam. x. 5). The popular joy at the installation
of King Solomon was likewise expressed by loud
pipings on the hdlil (1 Kings i. 40). The flute
shared also in the licentious music of rich men's
feasts (Isa. v. 12), as well as in celebrations of the
joy of worship. To the accompaniment of the
tydlil men went in procession to the house of the
Lord (Isa. xxx. 29). If the n'tyUoth of Ps. v. be
another description of the flute, it played some part,
as well, in the actual praise of the Temple. The

Musical Accompaniments 61
Talmud gives it a distinct place, not only in the
torchlight processions of the Feast of Tabernacles,
but even as the proper musical accompaniment
of the HallU during Passover. The dulcet notes
of the flute, however, made it the peculiar associate
of mourning.1 In Assyrian texts the word ' flute-
lament ' is the technical term for the death-dirge.
And, though this expression is unknown in the Old
Testament, the prophet's allusion to the sounding
of his heart ' like flutes ' for Moab (Jer. xlviii. 36)
is sufficient evidence that in Israel, too, flute-
playing was almost a synonym for mourning.
In the late list of musical instruments (Dan. iii.
5ff .) two of the names indicate varieties of the flute :
the mashrokithd (from sharak, ' to whistle ' ), probably
a more developed 'ughdb, or pipe-organ, and the
sumphonydh, an Aramaic transliteration of the
Greek avfiqbavla, doubtless a bag-pipe, consisting
of a goat-skin with two reeds attached, the one
forming the mouth-piece, and the other the chanter,
as in the familiar Highland bag-pipe.
The impulse to another type — the neginoth, or
stringed instruments — came from the use of the
bow in hunting and warfare. The original harp
1 It is interesting to note as one of the " problems ' raised
in the school of Aristotle, why the flute should be the instrument
alike of joy and sadness. The answer returned is that its soft,
sweet notes alike soothed men's sorrow and heightened their
joy (Problems, xix. i)

62 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
was probably a simple one-stringed bow, like the
rabdb on which the modern Bedouin still twangs
his rude melodies. The addition of other strings
correspondingly enlarged the musical compass of
the instrument, until we reach the ten- or twelve-
stringed harp of the Hebrews, and the yet richer
developments of modern times. In the Old Testa
ment two different styles are found. The more
popular of these — the kinnor — is already associated
with the 'ughab in the old tradition of Jubal (Gen.
iv. 21). It appears to have been a small, portable
lyre, enclosed in a square or rounded frame-work
of sandal or other fine wood, and supported by a
kettle-shaped sounding box, over which were
stretched from three to six cat-gut strings — as repre
sented in delineations of Semitic musicians on old
Babylonian and Egyptian monuments, and in
somewhat more advanced form on the later Jewish
coinage,1 — played either by plucking the strings
with the finger, or striking them with a metal
plectrum, as suggested by the two verbs zimmer,
' to pluck,' and niggen, ' to strike.' The instrument
appears in connexion with prophetic excitation
(i Sam. x. 5), in religious processions (2 Sam. vi.
5 ; 1 Chron. xvi. 5), at the solemn dedication of the
1 Cf . the reproductions of these in the articles on Music in the
Dictionary ofthe Bible and Encyclopaedia Biblica, or in the Appen
dix to Wellhausen's edition of Psalms in the Polychrome Bible,

Musical Accompaniments 63
new wall of Jerusalem (Neh. xii. 27), and occasion
ally as part of the Temple orchestra (Pss. xxxiii.
2; xliii. 4, etc.). But it was peculiarly associated
with secular music of a joyful character. It filled
its role, for example, in family festivals (Gen. xxxi.
27), besides forming part of the orchestral accom
paniment of licentious banquets (Isa. v. 12) f and
adding to the seductive spell of the women of the
streets (Isa. xxiii. 16). To the exhilarating strains
of the kinnor, likewise, David charmed away Saul's
melancholy (1 Sam. xvi. i6ff.). But, unlike the
soothing flute, it had no part in the mourner's grief.
When the iron of sorrow entered men's hearts, they
laid aside their harps, or hanged them on the willow-
trees, as no longer beseeming their mood (cf. Ps.
cxxxvii. 2 ; Lam. v. 14).
Alongside of the kinnor appears another variety
of harp — the nebel or ' psaltery ' — the shape of
which is said by Jerome to resemble the Greek
letter a — thus most nearly representing the original
bow-harp. The nebel had a richer compass than
the more popular kinnor. In Pss. xxxiii. 2 ; xcii. 3,
etc., we read of ten-stringed instruments. And
Josephus states that the ' psaltery ' of his day had
* twelve musical notes ' (Antiq. VII. xii. 3). The
nebel was occasionally used in scenes of revelry
1 Among the Greeks, too, the lyre was Smtos iratpri, mate of
th? banquet (Odyssey xvii. 271, etc.).

6a. The Poets of the Old Testament
(Amos v. 23; Isa. v. 12; xiv. 11). But it was con
secrated especially to the service of religion. Thus
the instrument played its part in the prophetic
orchestra that greeted Saul (1 Sam. x. 5), and the
more elaborate musical accompaniment of the
ark's triumphal progress to Jerusalem (2 Sam. vi.
5). Its characteristic place, however, was in the
worship of the Temple. The numerous allusions
to the nebel in Psalms and Chronicles, for example,
are all in this connexion.
Of the remaining instruments enumerated in
Dan. iii. 5ff., the kithdris and p'santlrim are simply
transliterations of the Greek Kidapi<; and yjraXTrjpiov,
exact equivalents of the Hebrew kinnor and nebel,
while the sabbekd is most probably the Greek
o-afx^vKi), a sharp-toned triangular harp of four
strings, according to Strabo and other authorities
of ' barbaric origin.'
In the earlier stages of art the various instruments
were no doubt used separately, as accompaniments
to different types of song. As each singer was
then his own accompanist, the instrumental music
would form a species of pleasing interlude in the
song.1 But with the development of the orchestra
1 This remains the type of musical accompaniment in Pales
tine to the present day (cf. Schneller, Kennst du das Land, pp.
i72ff.). We should not conclude, however, with Schneller, that
historical Israel never advanced beyond this stage,

Musical Accompaniments 6 5
a musical accompaniment in the stricter sense
became possible. That Oriental peoples were fami
liar with such accompaniments is obvious from
musical representations on the monuments, where
singers and players are seen to unite their notes.
And the natural interpretation of the key-passage,
2 Chron. v. 13, is that the singing choruses lifted up
their voices in praise to Jahweh in time with the
trumpets and cymbals and instruments of music.
But even then the notes were in unison. ' The
trumpeters and singers were as one, to make one
sound to be heard in praising and thanking the
Lord.' The only approach to harmony in the
modern sense would be found in the different timbre
of the instruments, and the occasional setting of
these instruments to different octaves. Thus in
another classical text, 1 Chron. xv. 2of., we read
how one band of Temple musicians had their harps
pitched 'al 'dldmoth, ' after the manner of maidens,'
i.e., most probably, on the soprano key, and a
second their lyres 'al hashsheminith, ' on the eighth,'
or the bass octave. Such modes of harmony were
no doubt primitive in their simplicity. But they
showed at least the awakening of the sense, and led
the way to the marvellous developments of modern
times.

CHAPTER IV
Golden Treasuries of National Poetry
The folk-songs that formed the subject of the preced
ing chapters were inspired by no literary ambition.
In some moment of warm personal feeling, or under
the impulse of a thrilling national experience, the
poets gave forth in song the feelings that stirred their
own hearts. And for the most part these effusions
passed away with the occasion that gave them birth.
Only a few select gems found a lodgment in the
hearts of the people — perhaps for the haunting
beauty of the words or melody, though more usually,
no doubt, for the theme that inspired them — and
thus entered into the spiritual inheritance of the
nation. As the generations rolled on, the treasury
of popular poetry was continually enriched with
the golden odes of more finely endowed souls that
merited a real claim to immortality. With the
dawn of literature there emerged also guilds of
professional singers or minstrels — like the Greek
aoL$6$ and the Arabic rdwi or reciter — whose func
tion it was to keep alive the poetic glories of their
people. But as a rule it was not till the national
66

Treasuries of National Poetry 6 7
consciousness fully awoke that any attempt was
made to give the old poetry greater permanence.
A full century had to elapse, for example, from the
Flight of Mohammed before the Arab Humanists
began to count it part almost of their religion to
rescue from oblivion, and commit to the security
of the pen, the brave old songs of the Age of Ignor
ance. The history of literary art in Israel passes through
essentially the same phases. In the early days of
national stress, when so hard a fight must be fought
for land and home, the songs that celebrated the
brilliant deeds of their fathers lived in the hearts of
the people, firing them to emulate their courage and
loyalty. In more peaceful ages wandering moshHim
— reciters or rhapsodists — still kept aglow the light
of poetic inspiration that shone from the past.
But not till the fruits of victory had been gathered,
and the kingdom was firmly established under David
and Solomon, were more decisive steps taken to save
the rich inheritance of national song.
In the historical literature of the Old Testament
two separate Anthologies of folk-poetry are referred
to:— 1. The short fragment in Num. xxi. 14L is cited
from the Book of the Wars of fahweh, evidently a
collection of battle-songs from Israel's Wars of
Conquest and Independence, To the same source

6 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
we may plausibly assign Deborah's glorious battle-
hymn (Judg. v.), and the verses to whose accom
paniment the ark was carried to and from the battle
field (Num. x. 35f.). But many other songs now
lost must have gone to form so distinctive an Antho
logy. If the first of these pieces (Num. xxi. 14L)
relate to the conquest of Moab by David, the earliest
possible date for the compilation of the book will be
the opening years of the monarchy. And no cogent
reason seems to demand a much later origin. The
brilliant reign of Solomon undoubtedly gave an
impulse to literary activities. The people enjoyed
a happy respite from the long wars that had won
them the kingdom, and could now look back with
pride and thankfulness to the heroic deeds that dis
tinguished them. Thus a real desire arose to pre
serve the memory of these deeds. The beginnings
of historical narrative in Israel — -for example, the
earliest consecutive accounts of David's reign (2
Sam. ix.-xx.) — belong to this period. It would,
therefore, be in harmony with all we know of the
spirit and purpose of the age to ascribe the first
Anthology of Israel's national song to this birth-time
of conscious literary production.1

1 Budde ascribes to Solomon himself the plan and supervision
of these early collections of folk-poetry, aptly comparing him
with Charlemagne, who played the same part in German liter
ary history (Geschichte der Althebraischen hiteratur, p. 19),

Treasuries of National Poetry 69
2. A second collection of folk-poetry — the Book
of fashar — is quoted as the literary source of the
battle-song of Gibeon (Josh. x. i2f.) and David's
Elegy over Saul and Jonathan (2 Sam. i. i8ff.),
and, in the Septuagint, of Solomon's Hymn of Dedi
cation (1 Kings viii. i2f.) as well.1 The meaning
of hajjdshdr has been much disputed. In all prob
ability, it is simply the collective singular of the
adjective. The Book of Jashar would thus be the
Book of the Upright, in other words, the Book of
Israel's Brave or Good Men. Such a title would
well agree with the known character and scope of
the Book, celebrating, as it does, various types of
goodness — that of the loyal friend and lover, that
also of the zealous worshipper of Jahweh, the builder
of His Temple and inaugurator of His worship, to
gether with that of the valiant soldier.2
The date of the Book of Jashar is likewise sug
gested by its contents. Even on the authority of
the Hebrew text, it cannot have been earlier than
the reign of David. But the very probable reading
of the Septuagint in 1 Kings viii. 53 would bring
the terminus a quo down to the middle of Solomon's
1 According to the LXX (in I Kings viii. 53) the hymn was
found ev jSi/SXty r9js <?8ijs, i.e. "Wn "1SD3, in the Book of the Song,
an obvious slip for 1K"n "ISD3, in the Book of Jashar.
2 One naturally compares the Arabic Collection of heroic
poetry entitled Hamdsa, literally, manly valour (the Roman
virtus) .

70 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
reign. The Collection is perhaps later than the
Book of the Wars of Jahweh, its outlook on life
and character being wider in range. But probably
no great distance of time separates the two. At all
events, they preserve for us the oldest remains of
Hebrew poetical literature. One cannot but regret
the disappearance of the sources themselves. Had
we their contents in full, we should have gained so
much more vital a knowledge of the natural gifts
and qualities of the race through whom God spoke
to the world. But the genius of the Old Testament
is so predominantly religious that the other poetic
glories of Israel pale before the purer light.

CHAPTER V
The Sorrows of Death
It can hardly be doubted that the stream of national
poetry which flowed so strongly in the early ages
continued to enrich the historical period as well.
But the glimpses we catch of its windings are of the
faintest. Only with the Exile does it appear once
more in full flood. To the close of this era is to be
ascribed the splendid ' Song of Moses ' (Deut. xxxil),
a richly coloured poetical survey of Israel's history
in the spirit of the greater prophets. But the
characteristic outflow of the feeling of the age is
found in the Book of Lamentations, a collection of
five separate elegies, all save the last in the kindh
or elegiac measure, and likewise arrayed in elaborate
acrostic form, preserving the memory of Jerusalem's
death-agony. In our English Bible these lays are
appended to the Book of Jeremiah, and are actually
described as the Lamentations of Jeremiah, in har
mony with the accepted tradition in Jewish and
Christian circles, which is mainly responsible for
the current conception of Jeremiah as ' the weeping

72 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
prophet.' The tradition dates back perhaps to the
note in 2 Chron. xxxv. 25, where one at least of the
elegies appears to be ascribed to Jeremiah.1 But
it finds its first explicit recognition in the Septuagint,
where the lays not merely stand in close relation to
Jeremiah, but are likewise introduced by the follow
ing words : — ' Now it came to pass, after Israel had
been led captive and Jerusalem made desolate, that
Jeremiah sat down weeping, and lifted up this
lament over Jerusalem, saying,' etc. From the
Septuagint the tradition passed over to the Syriac
and Vulgate Versions, and thence also to the Pro
testant Church. The Jewish Targums equally
associate the Book with the name of Jeremiah.
Later legend has even pointed out the spot where
he sat and wept. And the poetic imagination of
Christendom has delighted to linger on the scene.
There is certainly a fine dramatic fitness in the
association. For how often Jeremiah did weep

1 It might well seem inconceivable that by the lamentations
of Jeremiah and the singing men and women over king
Josiah the Chronicler had our present book in view. But this
conclusion is rendered highly probable by the references of
Josephus, Ant. X. v. i, and Jerome, in his note on Zech. xii. n,
to lamentations written by Jeremiah on the occasion, which
¦ remain to this day,' and are ' read in the Church.' Jerome
even appeals to the authority of Chronicles for the connexion of
the book with Jeremiah. The idea probably arose through a
mistaken identification of ' the anointed of the Lord ' (Lam.
iv. 20) with Josiah.

The Sorrows of Death 7 3
' for the slain of the daughter of his people.' Not
unfrequently in his sorrow for Zion he broke into the
choking kindh metre found in Lamentations. The
language, too, is largely reminiscent of Jeremiah.
The lays are steeped in the feeling of the prophet,
and turns of expression characteristic of his melting
utterances meet us throughout. But weighty argu
ments bear against the traditional view. In the
Hebrew Bible the elegies have no connexion with
Jeremiah. They find their place, instead, among
the Hagiographa or Writings, standing third in the
list of Megilloth, or roll-books, read at the great
festivals of the Jews. They have likewise no dis
tinctive title, being described merely as 'Ekhdh,
' Ah ! how,' from the opening word of Lam. i.
Though the Septuagint is mainly responsible for the
tradition, its own version of Lamentations is evi
dently by a very different hand from that of the
prophecies of Jeremiah. And the lays themselves
show many undesigned distinctions in tone and
feeling. Jeremiah poured out his conflicting emo
tions in keen, throbbing, heart-breaking words.
In Lamentations the language is carefully studied
and chosen, and artistically arranged in its acrostic
moulding. The passion may be there — the awful
sorrow of Jerusalem's last anguish. But it is sub
dued. In the later lays, especially, there is some
thing of that sweetness which distils from the mem-

74 The Poets of the Old Testament
ory of ' saddest thought.' Jeremiah spoke out of
the bitterness of his soul. The author or authors
of Lamentations seek rather to soothe their sorrow
by quiet meditation on the woes of Jerusalem, and
searching out the purpose of God pursued through
the wrack and ruin of His people. To Jeremiah the
meaning of the whole direful calamity was plain.
He had long forewarned Jerusalem that this was
the inevitable end of their apostasy from their God.
But to the authors of Lamentations it came with a
painful shock of surprise that He could ever have
abandoned His people to their foes. The lays reveal
nothing of the prophetic outlook. The troubles of
Israel, they feel, have come to them through trusting
in the prophets' dreams of ' falsehood and folly '
(ii. 14). And they no longer receive ' vision from
Jahweh' (ii. 9). The authors of part of the lays,
at least, belonged to the court circles of Jerusalem,
those who long vainly looked for help to Egypt (iv.
17), till in despair they courted safety in ignominious
flight, but were hunted over the mountains, and
ambushed in the desert, and had the crowning sorrow
of seeing ' the breath of their nostrils,' the Anointed
of Jahweh, the much-loved king under whose shadow
they had hoped to live among the nations, ' trapped
in the toils,' and carried by the relentless enemy far
off to Babylon (iv. i8ff.). The fortunes of Jeremiah
during the death-throes of Jerusalem were very

The Sorrows of Death 7 5
different from this. Shut up in his prison-house,
he was spared the awful horrors to which the lays
bear such personal witness. Nor does any attempt
appear to have been made to carry away the prophet
in the king's wild rush for freedom. The truest
friend the people of Jerusalem ever had, he remained
with them, vainly imploring them to turn to Jah
weh and live, making Him their Lord and King amid
all their calamities (Jer. xl.ff.).
The unity of the Book is itself the subject of grave
doubt. The differences in the order of the letters
may first arouse suspicion.1 But various other
distinctions in date, view-point and style, enter into
the question. Of the five chapters, two are charged
full of the tragedy of Jerusalem's downfall, and are
undoubtedly inspired by actual memories of the
scene. The others carry us down to a considerably
later period, when thoughtful spirits had begun to
muse over the mystery of God's ways, and to trace
His leading hand in sorrow, suffering and death.
The tone here is no simple advance upon the mood
of the earlier lays. The feeling and style and scene
alike point us to different minds.
The oldest elements in the Book are unquestion
ably chaps, ii. and iv., whose vivid, moving
1 In ch. i. the usual order appears. But in chs. ii.-iv. S pre
cedes !?, " as though with us p were to stand before o ' (Noldeke,
Alttestamentliche Literatur, p. 146).

76 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
pictures of the ruin of Zion clearly bespeak the
eye-witness. The two are usually assigned to the
same author. But the poignant religious note of
ch. ii. is so far removed from the frankly secular
mood of its fellow that the assumption is open to
revision. At all events, the date of both elegies
must run back close to the events they depict. The
now generally accepted hypothesis would place
them about the year 570 B.C., some fifteen years
after the actual catastrophe, when sufficient time
had elapsed for the toning down of the passion in
the calmer region of reflection, but before any gleam
of hope had yet appeared on the distant horizon.
The author of ch. iv., at least, belonged to the entour
age of King Zedekiah, and was no doubt one of the
captives carried in his train to Babylonia. The
origin of the two lays is thus most probably to be
sought there.1 And this hypothesis would best
explain the reminiscences of Ezekiel that meet us
in both.2

1 From the allusion to Edom in iv. 2if., Budde concludes that
the home of the lays must have been Judah. But one who threw
himself so completely into the memory of the scene would natur
ally rouse the old feeling against the unbrotherly, inhuman Edom.
2 Thus the phrase 'the perfection of beauty' (ii. 15) is a
direct quotation from Ezek. xxvii. 3L (though here applied to
Tyre). The comparison of Zion with Sodom (iv. 6) is a crystalli
zation of the thought in Ezek. xvi. 46ff . The ' trapping in the
toils ' (iv. 20) equally recalls Ezek. xix. 4, 8, Among other
reminiscences we may note the phrases 1yJ3 Din (ii. 1), as com-

The Sorrows of Death 7 7
A second closely related group consists of chs. i.
and v. The authors of these two lays stand at some
little distance from the tragedy. In ch. i. the figure
of the widowed, childless city herself raises the
lament to heaven. The companion poem (ch. v.)
is the prayer of the afflicted people. Although
apparently of different authorship, both seem to
date from about the middle of the century (c. 550-
540 B.C.).1 And the home of both was doubtless
the old motherland of Judah — some village or
blighted landscape near Jerusalem where the black
crumbling ruins of Zion stood ever before the eyes
in mute appeal.
The latest of the lays is found in ch. iii. The
artistic form here shows a marked development. As
in chs. i. and ii., three kindh verses are assigned
to each letter of the alphabet ; but the whole three
are now introduced by the same key-letter. The
tone of religious reflection is equally advanced. The
veil that obscured God's ways has now been lifted
pared with Ezek. xliii. 7; \)V ''TOTO (ii. 4), found elsewhere only
in Ezek. xxiv. 16, 21, 25 ; and the prophets' 'visions of falsehood
and vanity' (ii. 14), against which Ezekiel protests as strongly
(ch. xiii. iff., etc.).
1 From supposed reminiscences of Deutero-Isaiah in ch. i.,
Budde and other scholars would bring its date down to a few years
after the Restoration (c. 530 B.C.), or even later. The affinities
with Deutero-Isaiah, however, seem not so close as to warrant
this assumption. And the pathos of the piece is by no means in
harmony with the joy of the Restoration.

7 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
a little ; and the poet is able dimly to discern the
glory of the light that shone even amid the darkness.
The chapter is evidently to be dated some con
siderable time after the Restoration. And the scene
here, too, is Judea, the poet being doubtless a son
of the new spiritual community that had learned
in the land of their exile how Jahweh saves through
suffering and death.
The opening stanzas of Lam. ii. choke with sorrow
ing wonder that Jahweh should have dealt so hardly
with His people. For the poet recognizes no second
ary causes. It is Jahweh Himself that has ' be
clouded the daughter of Zion, and hurled from
heaven to earth the glory of Israel ' (v. i) ; Jahweh
that has ' posted Himself as a foeman, His right
hand to the shaft,' and has ' slain each delight of
the eye in the tents of Mount Zion ' (v. 4) ; Jahweh
that has ' burst through His own hedge, and ravaged
His trysting-place,' giving over the place of His
holiness to the ruthless hands of the foe, so that
' they shout through the house of Jahweh, as on one
of the feast-days ' (vv. 6f.). And now temple and
fortress and rampart alike lie ' racked and languish
ing ' in their sorrow (vv. 8ff.).
9 Sunk to the ground are her gates,
Broken her bars.1
1 For the Piel sing. 13X read the Kai plur. -llDS, in the intransi
tive sense (cf. Bickell). "I3E>1 is doubtless but a variant,

The Sorrows of Death 7 9
Her king and her princes are exiles,
Reft of the Law.
Even her prophets no longer receive
Vision from Jahweh.
10 Low on the ground sit speechless
The elders of Zion;
Dust they pour on their heads,
They gird them with sackcloth.
Their heads to the ground bring down
Jerusalem's daughters.
n Mine eyes are wasted with tears.
My bowels are moved ;
My heart is poured on the ground
For the wreck of my people,
For the wastage of infant and suckling
On the streets of the city.
12 They say to their mothers, 'Ah, woe I
Where is our bread ? ' l
While they swoon, like those that are wounded,
On the streets of the city,
A nd pour out their souls in death 2
On the breast of their mothers.
* * * *
15 Over thee clap their hands
All that pass by ;
They hiss, and they wag their heads.
Over Jerusalem :
' Is this the city they called
The Perfection of Beauty ? ' 3
1 The first stichos here is too short. I have followed Budde
in inserting w 'IX, which might easily have fallen out before
the following words. On the other hand, the second stichos
unduly prolongs the kindh note. The easiest emendation is to
omit JJ^I, which is in any case hardly apphcable in the mouth of
' infants and sucklings.'
2 The first stichos is again too short. Insert probably T\)1S 7
(G. A. Smith).
3 The closing words of the Massoretic text, which mar the

80 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
16 Against thee open their mouths
Thine enemies all.
They hiss, and they gnash their teeth :
' We have swallowed her up ! 1
Ah t this is the day we looked for ;
We have found it, we see it.'
17 Jahweh hath done what He planned,
Hath accomplished His word.
As He ordered in days long gone,
He hath ruined unpitying.
He hath given thine enemies joy of thee,
Hath exalted their horn.2
The ruin of Jerusalem is so vast, her wound so
deep-cut, that the poet has no comfort to offer her,
no human healer to call for her (v. 13). Her only
hope is to turn to Him who afflicted, if haply He may
be moved by her sorrow to bring deliverance.
18 Cry thou aloud to the Lord,
Virgin of Zion.3
Tears let fall as a river,
By day and by night.

kindh measure, are, no doubt, a mere reader's insertion from Ps.
xlviii. 2.
1 Read with LXX, etc., the fern, sing, termination n-"lJl?p2.
The prosaic -IIDX may then be dispensed with.
2 The last stichos of this verse is likewise overladen. G. A.
Smith and others would omit \y>. But this word is so appro
priate to D*"!i3 that it seems better to omit 1]?}^ and'read|U"lj3 (cf,
Budde). 3 For the meaningless words of the Hebrew text we must read
either l£ <pJ?V or "!]*£ ^O^ (cf. Ewald, etc.). In the second half
I have followed Lohr in reading rip-in?, virgin daughter of Zion,
Budde and G, A Smith preferj'Dp, clamour, O Zign,

The Sorrows of Death 8 1
No respite give to thyself;
Rest not thine eyes.1
19 Rouse thee, sing out in the night,
At the first of the watches I
Pour out thy heart like waters
In the presence of Jahweh !
Lift up thy hands to His face
For the life of thy children.1
20 ' Jahweh, see and consider
Whom Thou hast treated thus I
Should women devour their own offspring,
The babes they have fondled ?
Or slaughter o'ertake in Thy sanctuary
Prophet and priest ?
21 ' Thick strewn on the face of the streets
Are old men and boys ;
My virgins and young men together
Are fallen by the sword.
In the day of Thy wrath Thou hast slain them,
Hast butchered unpitying,
22 ' Thou didst summon, as 'twere a feast day,
All the dwellers around me.3

1 Read probably the plur. yW, with many MSS. both of the
Heb. and LXX.
2 The fourth couplet in the Hebrew, which mars the genera 1
symmetry of the piece, is no doubt a later insertion.
3 The Massoretic reading recalls Jeremiah's 3*3DD 113D, terrors
on every side. But it seems more in harmony with the context to
regard ,-Vl3E> as a derivative from "1-13, meaning ' sojourners '
(cf. Job xviii. 19). We should then have to understand the verse
as referring to the gathering together of the surrounding populace
into the city, as happened again during the siege of Titus, thus
both intensifying the sufferings of the siege, and adding vastly to
the number of the slain, 6

82 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
In the day of Thy wrath there was left
No remnant or fugitive.
Those whom I nursed and brought up
My foes have destroyed.'
The horror of the scene is still more vividly por
trayed in the companion elegy (ch. iv.), where the
religious robe is dropped, and the only hope for Zion
lies in the full paying of the guilt, and the consequent
passing of the cup to the insolent Edom (vv. 2if .) .
i Ah ! how dimmed is the gold,1
The finest of gold I
Poured are our sacred stones 2
Down all the streets.
2 The sons of Zion, the priceless,
Worth weight in gold,
Are counted but earthenware pitchers,
The work of the potter.
3 Even the jackals give breast.
And suckle their young,
But my people's daughters * are monsters,
As ostriches wild.
4 The tongue of the nursling cleaves
To its palate for thirst.
The children are asking for bread ;
There is none that doth offer them.
5 Those that were fed on dainties
Rot on the streets ;
They that were nurtured in scarlet
Huddle on dung-hills.
1 nJB**, is changed, probably a mere explanatory gloss.
2 The ' gold ' and ' sacred stones ' here refer, not to the
adornments of the Temple, but to the precious ' sons of Zion '
(cf. v. 2).
3 Read probably *Bl>"nto3*with Bickell, etc.

The Sorrows of Death 8 3
6 The guilt of my people exceeded
The sin of S'ddm,
Whose overthrow came in a flash,
Ere a hand could be wrung.1
7 Her princes were purer than snow,
They were whiter than milk ;
Their flesh was more ruddy than corals,
Their veins as the sapphire.2
8 Now blacker than darkness their visage,
Unknown in the streets,
Their skin is drawn tight on their bones, —
It is dry as a stick. ¦
9 Better the slain of the sword
Than the slain by starvation,
That rot in blackening decay,
Like the fruits of the field.3
10 The hands of delicate women
Have sodden their children.
These are become their food
In the wreck of my people.
11 The Lord hath accomplished His fury,
Poured out all His wrath ;
He hath kindled in Zion a fire,
Which devoured her foundations.

1 The point of the comparison is doubtless that, judged by
their respective sufferings, Jerusalem had been held more guilty
even than Sodom.
2 Instead of DVJJ, bone, bodily framework, we should probably
read Dill?, their flesh, or some similar word, with the sing, verb,
Bickell reads 'S DVBO -1DTS, they were ruddier than coral-bone,
perhaps an even happier emendation, I have followed Budde in
translating Dp'ltl, lit. their cutting, as their veins.
3 The text is here evidently corrupt. The best emendation
proposed seems to be Dyserinck's '"IB* ni3-13rj3 DHj>1D, that rot
burnt up (blackened) like the fruits, etc,

84 The Poets of the Old Testament
12 No kings of the earth had believed,
Nor men of the world,
That assailant or foeman could enter
Jerusalem's gates.
13 It was all for the sins of her prophets,1
For the crimes of her priests ,
Who shed in the midst of the city
The blood. of the just.
14 Through the streets they totter like blind men,
Polluted with blood.
What they could not endure to cast eyes on,
They sweep with their robes.
15 'Depart, ye unclean I' men bid them,
' Depart, and avoid us ! '
So they stagger and totter around,
Nowhere a shelter.
16 Jahweh Himself hath dispersed them,
Caring no more.
Respect hath He none for the priests,
Nor favour for prophets.
17 How long strained our eyes in searching
For help that was vain !
We looked, and still looked, to u, people
That never brought help.
18 Our enemies hunted our steps2
That we walked not abroad.
Our days were cut short and completed,
For our full end was come,
1 In the Heb. the third accented word has disappeared. We
might, with Budde, add -1X3 or J1KT. The above translation
supplies the idea required.
2 After -1T^ we should doubtless insert the subject -IJ^V, which
might so easily shp out from such a context. The-iynhm. in the
second stichos probably means the open spaces in front of the
gates, where they could no longer walk with safety because of the
stringency of the blockade.

The Sorrows of Death 8 5
19 Swifter were they that pursued us
Than the eagles of heaven ;
Over the mountains they pressed us,
Laid their snares in the desert.
20 The breath of our life, God's anointed,
Was trapped in their toils,
Of whom we had said, ' In his shadow
We shall live 'mong the nations'
21 Be glad and rejoice in thy home-land,
Daughter of Edom 1 1
To thee, too, shall the cup pass round,
Till thou'rt drunk and dishevelled.
22 In full is thy guilt paid, O Zion ;
He will oust thee no more.
Edom, thy guilt will He visit ;
Thy sins He'll unveil.
The tone of Lam. i. is different. Zion still lies a
mass of blackened ruins. But the stains of the
carnage have been wiped away, and the healing
hand of Nature has woven its tracery of flowers over
the scars and rents of suffering. There is a real
pathetic beauty in the picture of the desolate city
lifting her hands in mournful appeal to those that
passed by the way. The bitterness is not all re
moved. This elegy, too, closes with a piercing cry
for vengeance on the enemy. But the city now
knows why Jahweh has afflicted her thus (cf. vv.
5, 8f., 14, 17L ; and to Him alone she turns for
salvation. 1 Read flNS nj^, the closing ^-11? being a simple gloss which
has found its way into the text. In the translation the two final
phrases have been transposed.

86 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
i Ah ! how lonely she sits,
That was full of people 1 1
She is become as a widow,
That was great 'mong the nations.
The queen city of provinces
Is now sunk to a slave.
2 Sore doth she weep in the night time,
The tears on her cheek.
No one is found to comfort,
Of all that loved her.
Her friends have betrayed her, all of them ;
They are turned to be foes.
3 Homeless is Judah through suffering,
And soreness of travail.
In exile she dwells 'mong the heathen ;
No rest hath she found.
All her pursuers have caught her
In the midst of the toils.
4 The highways to Zion lie mourning,
For lack of their pilgrims.
Her gates stand all of them desolate ;
Her priests are distraught.
Her virgins are plunged in affliction,
Herself is in bitterness.
5 Her foemen are now the head,
Her enemies triumph.
For Jahweh hath swept her away
For the tale of her sins.
Her children have passed into exile
In front of the foe.
6 Gone from the daughter of Zion
Is all her glory.
Her princes are feeble as harts
That can find no pasture.
1 The word TWn unduly prolongs the second half of the kindh
measure, and is probably but an explanatory gloss.

The Sorrows of Death 8 7

Fainting they flee without strength
Before the pursuer.
7 Jerusalem calleth to mind
The days of her trouble,1
When her people fell by the foe,
With no one to help her,
And enemies saw her, and jeered
Over her downfall.
8 Jerusalem hath grievously sinned,
Hath become an unclean one.
All that honoured abhor her,
Seeing her nakedness.
Herself is distraught with sorrow,
Backward she turns.
9 Her filthiness clings lo her skirts,
Her end she regards not.
Thus is she fallen fearfully,
With none to bring comfort.
O Jahweh ! behold my affliction I
So proud is the foe.
10 The assailant hath spread his hand
O'er all her goodly things ;
The heathen her eyes have seen
Pass through the sanctuary,
Even those Thou badest not
Enter Thy trysting-place,
11 Plunged are her people in grief,
Seeking for bread ;
Their treasures all have they given
For food to revive them.
O Jahweh ! see, and behold
How vile I am grown I

1 The superfluous rpinp-l is doubtless but a marginal variant
that has found its way into the text. The whole following fine
in Hebrew is equally ahen to the context, diverting attention from
the real thought.

8 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
12 ' Ho 1 1 ye that pass by the way I
Look, and consider
If sorrow there be like this
That is wreaked upon me —
The sorrow that Jahweh hath caused
In the day of His wrath !

13 ' Fire He sent from on
And infused in my bones.
The net He spread for my feet,
Backward He turned me.
Weak hath He left me, and desolate,
All the day long.
14 ' Watch hath He kept on my sins,
To a yoke hath He twined them ;
Over my neck have they passed,
Brought low my strength.
Into their power hath He given me ; a
No more can I rise.
1 5 ' Jahweh hath flung to the ground
All the strong men within me,
He hath summoned a festal assembly
For the wrack of my warriors.
In His wine-press hath Jahweh trodden
The daughter of Judah.
16 ' For these things I weep without ceasing ;
My tears flow down.
For no one is near to comfort,
None to relieve me.
1 For the meaningless D3/2K N-17 LXX and other Versions
have the direct appeal. We might read, perhaps, D37 »il"l, an
elegiac note of grief, or simply -13?, come, hark !
2 The best sense appears to be gained from 'J'B'g'vl? "li^J of a
number of MSS., to some extent supported by the Versions. The
?V might, however, be aptly inserted after -IPl? in Une 2, thus giving
the stichos adequate length and meaning. For the construct
H'S in the last Une read W3.

The Sorrows of Death 8 9
My children around me lie desolate,
For the foe hath prevailed,'
The help of man is vain. And therefore the
stricken city rests all her trust in her God.
20 ' See, Lord I for distress is upon me ;
My bowels are moved.
Turned is my heart within me,
For sore have I sinned.
The sword bereaveth without,
And plague x in the house,
21 ' Hear, O Lord ! how I sigh,
With no one to comfort me ;
For my foes have all heard of my troubles,
They rejoice at Thy doings,
That Thou broughtest the day Thou proclaimedst
On all my sins.2
22 ' But let all their crimes come before Thee,
That they be as I am I *
As they have done unto me,
So do Thou to them I 2
For full is the cup of my sorrows,
And faint is my heart.'
In Lam. v., as has been noted, we have the prayer
of the suffering people itself. Here the kindh measure
naturally yields to the normal three-pulsed verse.
The acrostic garb is likewise dropped. If ' men do
not write acrostics when their hearts are breaking,' 3
still less do they use such artifices in the sacred hour
of prayer. The only reminiscence of the alphabetical
mould appears in the] number of the verses. And
1 Read n}D, in the sense of 'deadly plague.'
1 These three stichoi have been transposed (following Budde).
8 McFadyen, Introduction to the Old Testament, p. 296.

90 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
even this may be the result of later redaction. For, as
Budde has observed,1 vv. ii, 12, and 18 stand in no
real relation to the context. The prayer is a simple,
sincere expression of the feelings of the people of
Judah during the mournful years of Jerusalem's
widowhood. All joy is gone from them. Their
spirit is well-nigh broken with sorrow. Yet through
all their distresses faith soars to God in His heaven.
He abides for ever. His throne is securely established
from age to age. If only He will hear their prayer,
and return to them in His mercy, they too will be
turned, and their days be renewed as of old. But
this still seems a hope beyond expectation. He
has forgotten His people so long, that He may well
have rejected them utterly, so fierce is His anger
against them !
1 Remember, O Lord, what is come on us ;
Behold, and see our reproach !
2 To strangers is turned our inheritance ;
Our homes are given unto aliens.
3 Orphans we are, and fatherless ;
Our mothers are doomed to be widows.
4 Our water we drink for money ;
Our wood we buy at a price.
5 The yoke presses hard on our neck ; 2
We are wearied, and find no rest.
1 Kurzer Hand-Commentar, pp. 104ft.
2 The ?'j? , yoke, has dropped out before by, but is preserved
bySymmachus. Instead of •IJS'l'O, we are pursued, a word like
1333, is made heavy, or ttf'$3 n.maketh us sore, seems required by
the context.

The Sorrows of Death 9 1
6 To Egypt we give the hand,
And to Asshur, to sate us with bread.
7 Our fathers sinned, and are not ;
And we have borne their iniquities.
8 Over us slaves bear rule ;
From their might there is none to deliver.
9 With our lives we get us our bread,
In peril of sword from the desert.
10 Our skins glow as an oven,
Through the burning heat of famine.
* * * *
13 Our young men must bear the mill ;
'Neath the wood our children stumble.
14 Our old men have left the gate ;
And our young men have ceased from their music.
15 The joy of our heart is gone ;
Our dance is turned into mourning.
16 The crown is fallen from our head.
Ah, woe ! for that we have sinned I
17 For this is our heart grown faint ;
For these things our eyes are dim.
* * * *
19 But Thou, Lord, abidest for ever ;
Thy throne is from age to age.
20 Oh I why forget us for ever,
And forsake us a length of days ?
21 Turn us, O Lord, that we turn to Thee !
Renew our days as of old I
22 Unless Thou hast wholly rejected us,
So fierce is Thine anger against us !
Yet another mood is reflected -in ch. iii. That
which the suffering people had hardly dared to hope
for has been accomplished. The exiles have been

92 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
restored, and the ruined city upbuilt. The fortunes
of Jerusalem are still, indeed, shrouded in gloom
through the relentless hatred and persecution of
the enemy. But the light that God has shed on His
people is the forecast of the ' perfect day ' that is
yet to dawn. The poet of Lam. iii. reviews the
history of his people under the rays of this gladden
ing light. The ' man ' that forms the subject of the
elegy is either the nation personified, or more pro
bably the poet himself uttering the universal sorrow,
as the transition to the plural in vv. 4off . so strongly
suggests. In either case, the theme is the Divine
' leading ' of Israel from the days of its youth on
ward. The elegy may lack the vivid colouring
of chs. ii. and iv. Its tone is that, rather, of quiet
meditation on God's ways. But a singular sweet
ness pervades the whole. Its gracious phrases
haunt the mind. And the poet enters more deeply
into the heart of God than any of his fellows. In
spite of the note of vengeance with which this lay
also closes, the prevailing thought of God is that
of a loving Father, who afflicteth not from the heart,
but even when He woundeth hath compassion on
His children ' for His fulness of love ' (v. 32).

1 'Tis I that have seen affliction
By the rod of His wrath.
2 I am the man He hath led
Through murk without light.

The Sorrows of Death 9 3
3 Surely 'gainst me hath He turned
His hand all the day.
4 He hath wasted my flesh and my skin,
He hath broken my bones.
5 He hath massed up troubles against me,
He hath fenced round my head.
6 He hath made me to dwell in darkness,
Like the long-time dead.
7 He hath walled me in hopeless imprisonment,
He hath loaded my chain.
8 Though I cry, and intreat Him to help,
He shutteth His ears.
9 He hath blocked up my way with hewn stones,
He hath twisted my path.
10 Like u, skulking bear He laid wait for me,
As a lion in its lurking-place.
11 From my path did He drag me, and mangle ;
He left me forlorn.
12 His bow He bent, and did set me
As a mark for His arrow.
13 Through my reins did He drive His shafts,
The sons of his quiver.
14 To all peoples I prove u derision.
Their song all the day.
15 He hath sated my soul with bitterness,
He hath filled me with gall.
16 He hath broken my teeth with gravel,
He hath heaped me with ashes.
17 My soul hath He robbed of its welfare ;
All good I forget.
18 I said : ' My glory is gone,
And my hope in Jahweh.'
19 The thought 1 of my woe and forlornness
Is wormwood and gall.
1 The imper. of the Mass. text unduly hastens the appeal to
Jahweh. The poet is still bewailing the misfortunes of his

94 The Poets of the Old Testament
20 My soul doth for ever recall them,
And is cast down within me.
21 But these things1 I lay to heart,
And find them my hope : —
22 The kindness of Jahweh is constant,
It fails not for ever ;
23 His mercies are fresh every morning,
Full is His faithfulness.
24 I said, ' My portion is Jahweh.'
Thus will I trust Him.
25 For Jahweh is good to the trustful,
Even all that seek Him.
26 It is good in patience to hope
For Jahweh's salvation.
27 It is good for a man that he bear
The yoke in his youth.
28 Alone let him sit in silence,
When Jahweh doth gird him I
29 Let him lay his mouth in the dust —
There may haply be hope.
30 Let him yield his cheek to the smiter,
And be filled with reproach I
31 For Jahweh will not cast off
The afflicted 2 for ever.
32 Though He wound, He will yet have compassion,
For His fulness of love.
33 For not from the heart doth He humble,
Nor wound mankind.

people. Read, therefore, the noun "13J, remembrance (Dyserinck,
Budde, etc.).
1 The reference here is forward. The things he lays to heart
are the mercies of Jahweh.
2 The hiatus at the close is usually filled up by B"N \33or D"}K,
But a richer sense is gained by reading '31?, a word that might
easily have dropped out after ''JIH.

The Sorrows of Death 9 5
In the following verses the righteousness of Jah
weh's reign is strongly asserted. He cannot endure
the sight of oppression and injustice — the ' crush
ing underfoot of the prisoners,' the ' wresting of a
man's rights before the Almighty,' and the ' sub
verting the poor in his cause ' — still less can His own
ways be uneven. If He have laid His hand on Israel,
then, it must be the due reward of her wrong-doing.
39 Then why should mortal complain
Of the toll of his sins ?
40 Let us search our ways, and try them,
And return to the Lord I
41 Let us lift our hearts on our hands
To God in the heavens !
42 ' We have sinned, and rebelled, and Thou
Hast not forgiven.
43 ' Thou hast veiled Thy face, and pursued us ;
Thou hast slain without pity.
44 Thou hast veiled Thy face with a cloud,
That no prayer could pass through.
45 Thou hast made us th' offscouring and refuse
In the midst of the peoples,
46 ' Against us have opened their mouths —
Our enemies all,
47 Destruction and terror o'erwhelm us,
Wasting and ruin.'
To his people's mournful prayer the poet lends
the support of his own tears for the fate of Jerusalem.
48 Mine eye runs with rivers of water
For the wreck of my people.
49 Mine eye pours down without ceasing,
Finding no respite ;

96 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
50 Till Jahweh look down, and behold
My sorrow from heaven.
51 For 'tis He that hath tortured my soul
With the tears of my city.
Jahweh has heard and answered in days gone by.
Surely He will not now be silent.
55 J have called on Thy name, 0 Lord,
From the depth of the dungeon.
56 Thou didst hear my voice. Oh I close not
Thine ear to my cry I
57 In the day that I called, Thou earnest ;
Thou saidst, ' Have no fear ! '
58 Thou didst plead the cause of my soul,
Thou redeemedst my life.
59 And now, Lord, my wrong Thou hast seen ;
Uphold Thou my cause 1
60 Thou hast seen all their vengeance against me,
The plans they have formed.
61 Thou hast heard their reproaches, O Lord,
The shame they have hurled 1 —
62 Even the words of my foes, and their thoughts,
Against me for ever.
63 Watch Thou their sitting and rising.
Their counsels against me ! 2
64 Thou wilt repay them, O Lord,
For the work of their hands.
65 Blindness of heart wilt Thou bring them,
Thy curse on their heads.
66 In wrath wilt Thou chase and destroy them
From under Thy heavens.
1 In the Hebrew text the second stichos is simply repeated from
the previous verse. The translation supplies what may have
been the thought of the original.
2 Here again the second stichos has been filled up from another
context (v. 14). The translation offers but a suggestion of the
original sequence,

CHAPTER VI
The Psalter
The national life of Israel has been found bathed in
so pervasive an atmosphere of devotion that their
triumphal battle-hymns, and in large measure also
their popular songs, breathe the vital essence of
rehgion. Their heart-broken Lamentations over
the ruin of their city and Temple are equally infused
with the spirit of humble resignation, prayer and
trust. The main body of Old Testament poetry
turns yet more directly on the praise of God, and
the varying emotions of the devout soul in its rela
tion to Him. In this region the poetry of Israel
is unique. There is religious poetry among other
nations — often far surpassing that of Israel in sus
tained reflection on the mysteries of life, and drama
tic representations of the conflict of the individual
with the inexorable decrees of fate — but in no other
religious literature do we find ourselves in such close
and intimate touch with God. The poets of Greece
and Babylonia ' feel after God.' To the pure-eyed
seers of Israel He was as luminously self-evident
a Being as their own selves. In Him their poetry
7

9 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
' lives and moves,' and thrills and glows with fervid
emotion. And this vital contact with God it is
which gives that literature its perennial freshness and
inspiration. We may know more of the Eternal
than even the loftiest souls in Israel. But such was
the immediacy of their feeling of God, and their
power to express that feeling, that their lyrical
utterances remain the classics of devotion. The
Christian world still gives voice to its faith and hope
and joy in God through the rapturous strains of the
' sweet singers of Israel.' And the best of our hymns
have caught their glow at this altar.
Of this distinctively religious poetry of Israel the
finest gems are found in the Psalter, which has been
aptly described as ' the heart of the Bible ' ; for
what the heart is in man — the welling fountain of his
feelings and imaginations, his joys and griefs and
manifold cravings and aspirations — the Psalter is
in the Bible. Thus the Psalter has touched and
held the hearts of the devout in all the ages. Here
heart speaks to heart, deep responds to deep, on the
great realities of spiritual life.1
1 ' The human heart is like a ship on a wild sea, driven by
winds from all corners of the world. . . . And what find we for
the most part in the Psalter, but the earnest words of men tossed
about by such winds ? Where can one find nobler words of joy
than the Psalms of praise and thanksgiving contain ? In these
thou mayest gaze into the heart of all the saints, as into lovely
pleasure gardens, or into heaven itself, and see how fine, pleasant,

The Psalter 99
Jewish tradition has linked the beginnings of
Psalmody with the name of David. A real basis of
fact would seem to underlie the tradition. In the
complex personality of David the emotional sensi
bilities that make the poet formed a rich element.
He had a true genius for friendship, and celebrated
the noblest of his friendships in immortal verse.
But the soul that was knit to Jonathan's in such
bonds of tender affection was inspired by no less
pure a passion for his God. His zeal for Jahweh led
him to dance in prophetic ecstasy before the ark.
And the same ardent enthusiasm can hardly have
failed at other times to express itself in song. But
it is now impossible to distinguish with any certainty
the Davidic element in the Psalter. The heading
I'david, ' of David,' is in itself no definite criterion
of authorship, but, like the corresponding titles,
le'dsaph, ' of Asaph,' and libbene korah, ' of the sons
of Korah,' a mere index of the primary collection

deUghtsome flowers spring up therein from all manner of beauti
ful, gladsome thoughts of God because of His goodness. And,
again, where canst thou find deeper, more plaintive and heart-
moving words of sorrow than in the Psalms of lamentation ?
There too thou mayest look into the heart of all the saints — but
as into death, or hell itself. How dark and gloomy all things
are when the heart is troubled by the sense of the wrath of God !
And so also when they speak of fear or hope, they use words that
no painter could approach in colouring, or even an orator Uke
Cicero in vividness of description.' — Luther, Preface to the Psalter,
1528,

i oo The Poets of the Old Testament
from which the Psalm was taken. And, though the
original ' Davidic ' Psalter — the main body of our
present Book I 1 — no doubt preserves strains of the
true Davidic melody, the older songs have been so
thoroughly revised and adapted to the progressive
needs of congregational worship, and later Psalms
added to such an extent, that the prevailing note is
that of a far later stage of religious development.
There is no Psalm, for example, whose origin seems
better attested, or whose spirit and accent are more
in harmony with David's eager, enthusiastic, warlike
temperament, than the eighteenth ; yet the middle
and closing sections of the Psalm clearly reflect the
religious ideas of the late prophetic age. The fine
Processional, xxiv. 7ff., strikes the same antique note
as the martial strains of xviii. 3iff. ; but this too
has become a mere appendix to a later song of wor
ship. Even the sweet pastoral (Ps. xxiii.), which
imagination loves to associate with the shepherd-
king, in its closing verse presupposes the existence
of the Temple. It seems most reasonable to assign

1 The first two Psalms bear no note of authorship or origin.
They are evidently placed in the forefront of the Psalter as a
species of Preface, suggesting the dominant ideas of the Book.
Of the remaining Psalms in Book I, all are headed by the title
1YT?, except Ps. x., which is clearly connected with the preceding
to form one alphabetical whole, and Ps. xxxiii., where the open
ing verse is otherwise confused. The originani"ip, attested by
LXX, has probably dropped out by mere accident.

The Psalter 101
this and other early Psalms that sing of the joy of
worship, and the gracious character of the man whose
right it is to ascend the hill of God, and sojourn in
His Temple — e.g. Pss. v., xv., xxiv. iff., xxvi.,
and xxvii. — to some date during the flourishing
period of the first Temple. And, on a natural reading
of the text, the ' royal Psalms ' of Book I — the
prayer for the king in xx. 9, the celebration of the
king's joy and trust in Jahweh (xxi. iff.), and the
Psalm of salvation for Israel and Jahweh's ' an
ointed ' (xxviii. 8f .) — fall within the age of the Mon
archy. But a careful analysis of the contents of the
Book carries us yet further down the stream of his
tory. Thus the closing verse of Ps. xiv. directly
implies the Exile. And the minor notes of Pss. vi.,
xi., xii., and xiii. are certainly most in harmony with
the sorrow of that time. The cry of the 'forsaken'
spirit in Ps. xxii. shows clear marks of dependence
on II Isaiah. Of the Nature-Psalms, too, the lan
guage of both viii. 3ff. and xix. 1 suggests acquaint
ance with the Creation account in Gen. i., while
the framework of Ps. xxix., that Song of truly
elemental grandeur and tempestuous energy, is cast
in a mould of quiet ' priestly ' dignity and beauty.
The acrostic form of Pss. ix., x., xxv., xxxiv., and
xxxvii. points to an age of developed reflection on
the ways of God and man. And the profound reli
gious thought of ' problem Psalms ' like xvi. iof.,

102 The Poets of the Old Testament
xvii. i4f., and xxxvii., with the 'confessional'
accents of Ps. xxxii., tend in the same direction.
The completion of the first ' Davidic ' Psalter,
then, must be dated somewhat after the Restoration
under Ezra and Nehemiah. The Psalms included
in the Collection are almost all described by the
title of mizmor or ' lyric' 1 The description is apt.
For these old ' Psalms of David ' have the true
lyrical ring. They are mainly the effusions of strong
personal feeling. And they touch a wide variety of
moods. In richness of compass, indeed, no later
Collection approaches them. They range from the
depths of almost despairing appeal to God against
the persecutions of the wicked (v., vi., vii., etc.) to
quiet confidence in the sustaining love of Jahweh
(iii., iv., etc.), and trust in the leading of the good
Shepherd and Friend (xxiii.), triumphant joy in
1 The word mizmdr is derived from the verb zimmer, ' play
the harp,' and thus means literally " a song with musical accom
paniment.' It is the general term for Psalm throughout the
Psalter. In addition to this title, however, Ps. xvi. is described
as a mikhtam, probably ' golden ode ' (from kethem, ' gold ') ;
Ps. xvii. as a t<philldh, or ' prayer,' an outpouring of the heart
to God ; and Ps. xxxvii. as a mashil, most probably ' medita
tion ' (from the verb sdkhal, 'to consider'). These terms are
to be met with repeatedly in later sections of the Psalter. A fur
ther title, confined to Book I, is the shiggdydn of Ps. vii., which
still awaits a satisfactory explanation. Ewald, DeUtzsch, and
other scholars connect the word with shaghah, ' to wander,' and
describe the Psalm as a * dithyrambic poem ; ' but this is quite
at variance with the character of the Psalm

The Psalter 103
Jahweh, the ' Lord of Battle-hosts ' (xviii. 31ft.,
xxiv. 7ff.), and love for His house and Law (xv.,
xix. 7ff., xxiv. iff., xxv., xxvii., etc.), awe-struck
reverence before the glory of God revealed in the
starry heavens, the splendour of the sunshine, and
the majesty of the thunder-storm (viii., xix. iff.,
xxix.), rapturous delight in God's forgiving love,
and the ' height and depth ' of His tender mercies
and His faithfulness (xxxii., xxxiv., xxxvi. 56°.),
until we reach at length the mountain-tops whence
are caught the first bright gleams of immortal glory
(xvi. iof., xvii. I4f.).
In the course of the next century a second ' David
ic ' Collection was compiled — the so-called ' prayers
of David ' now incorporated as Pss. li.-lxxii. in the
Second Book of the Psalter. The elements forming
this Collection are drawn in part from the contents
of the older Book, the portrait of the ' fool ' in Ps.
liii. being but a slightly-altered recension of Ps. xiv.,
and the cry for deliverance in Ps. Ixx. parallel to
the prayer that closes Ps. xl., while the opening
bars of Ps. lxxi. are a simple variant of Ps. xxxi.
1-3. But the bulk of the Book consists of new
Psalms, under various titles. On the whole, these
Psalms are of later origin than those of the earlier
Collection. Their note, too, is more uniform. In
termingled with others are a few bright ' lyrics '
of the regal period (lxi., lxii.), with ' meditations '

1 04 The Poets of the Old Testament
on the mysteries of Providence that seem still to
presuppose the existence of the Temple (Iii., liv.,
Iv.), and ' odes ' of triumphant confidence in Jahweh
(lvii. 7ff., Ix. 5ff.). But the general tone reflects the
subdued and sorrowful mood of the Exile. The
accents of penitence in that most searching of all
Psalms of confession, Ps. Ii., remind us constantly
of Ezekiel and Deutero-Isaiah. And the broken
cries for mercy, and help against the swords of the
enemy, blending with plaintive appeals to God to
turn from His wrath, and restore the people He
had ' cast off and ravaged ' (lvii. iff., lviii., lix.,
Ix. iff., lxiii., lxiv., Ixix., Ixx.), are the natural utter
ances of the children of affliction these prophets
sought to comfort. But the Book closes not without
the ringing notes of joy that hail the Restoration and
rebuilding of the Temple, and herald the still gladder
day when God's saving grace shall be known over
all the earth, and the nations shall unite in worship
ping and praising Him (lxv., lxvi., lxvii., lxviii.),
when the true King shall arise to hold dominion and
shed blessing ' from sea to sea, from the river even
to the ends of the earth' (Ixxii.).1
In the meantime fresh Collections of sacred song
were grouping themselves round the priestly names
1 In its original cast, Ps. Ixxii. was perhaps an accession Ode
in honour of one of the later kings of Judah. But this old Song
has been expanded into a real Messianic Psalm.

The Psalter 105
of Asaph and ' the sons of Korah.' 1 These Psalms
are distinguished by a loftiness and dignity of tone,
and a joyous pride in Zion and its Temple, which
well accord with this association. Of the songs and
' meditations ' of Korah, Ps. xiv. is a royal marriage-
ode, celebrating the nuptials probably of one of the
later kings of Judah ; Pss. xlvi., xlvii. and xlviii.
are hymns of exultant praise to God in honour of
some such act of ' salvation ' as the deliverance
from Sennacherib's grande armee ; Pss. xiii., xliii.
read like the ' last sigh ' of a priestly exile swept
in the train of King Jehoiachin beyond the ' district
of Jordan and the Hermons ' to the land that was
unclean ; Ps. xliv. depicts the full horror of the
desolation of Jerusalem ; and Ps. xlix. raises anew,
and carries to a sharper issue, the great problem
of the sufferings of the righteous. The bulk of
the Psalms of Asaph strike yet deeper notes of
sorrow. The mournful wails of the racked and

1 Of these priestly Collections, the Korah group forms a con
nected whole (Pss. xlii.-xlix.). The Asaph Psalter, on the other
hand, has become dislocated through the intrusion of the ' prayers
of David.' Only Ps. 1. belongs to Book II, the remaining mem
bers of the group (Pss. lxxiii.-lxxxiii.) opening the Third Book.
The majority of scholars follow Ewald in supposing that the
' prayers of David ' have been arbitrarily transferred from their
original place in the forefront of Book II. The present order,
however, may show an approach to the chronological relation of
the groups, the Psalms of Korah and the first of the Asaph Collec
tion being, on the whole, earher than the ' prayers.'

106 The Poets of the Old Testament
ravished people, and their plaintive questionings
of the Why ? and How long ? of their affliction
(Pss. lxxiv., lxxvii., lxxix., lxxxiii.), ring in the
ear like a death-knell. But major notes pierce
through the grief. God had been good to His people
in the days of old. Therefore He could not abandon
them for ever. Only let Him put forth His hand,
and smite the heathen, and all of them would be
' ashamed and dismayed for ever,' and the nations
would learn that Jahweh alone was ' Most High
over all the earth ' (Pss. Ixxvi., Ixxviii., lxxxi.,
lxxxiii. i7ff.).1
A significant feature of these three groups is the
predominance of the Divine name 'Elohim, or ' God.'
1 The four Psalms, xliv., lxxiv., lxxix., lxxxiii., have by a large
consensus of opinion, both ancient and modern, been assigned
to the Maccabean period. There are various features in these
Psalms which are in striking harmony with the tragic circum
stances of that age — e.g. the profanation of the Temple by the
enemy's standards, the destruction of the synagogues, the cessa
tion of prophecy, and the proud conscience of the afflicted nation.
It is very difficult, however, to explain the appearance of ' Macca
bean ' Psalms in the Collections of Asaph and Korah. And the
difficulty has been intensified since the discovery of the original
Hebrew of the Wisdom of Ben Sira, with its almost certain allu
sions to Pss. xhv. and lxxiv. (cf. Sir. xlvi. n with Ps. xliv. 18
and Sir. xxxvi. 6ff. with Ps. lxxiv. gff.). Dr. Briggs has made
it very probable that the main suggestions of Maccabean author
ship are later elements in the Psalms. It seems best to regard
them, therefore, as voices from the Exile, which have received
certain ' Maccabean ' tones in the course of the final revision of
the Psalter.

The Psalter 107

It is evident, however, from a comparison of the
various parallel Psalms in the two ' Davidic ' Psal
ters, as well as from such combinations as 'Elohim
'elohenu, ' God, our God,' and 'Elohim gebdoth, ' God
of hosts,' and other dubious contexts, that the 'Elohim
is redactional, and no vital element in the original
Psalms. As the name is equally characteristic of the
Priestly Code, the Books of Chronicles, and Ecclesi
astes, the formation of the Elohistic Psalter falls
doubtless within the same general period. The
distribution of the Psalms between Asaph and the
' sons of Korah ' defines the date more narrowly.
The only guild of Temple singers in the first century
after the Restoration, as late as the age of Ezra and
Nehemiah, consisted of the ' sons of Asaph ' (Ezra
ii. 41 ; Neh. vii. 44, etc.) . In the subsequent
period the Korahites were added ; but by the time
of the Chronicler these had become porters or door
keepers, their former function as ' singers ' passing
to the families of Heman and Ethan (1 Chron. xv.
I7f£.). The Elohistic Psalter would thus belong to
the fourth century.
The rest of Book III is filled by a further gleaning
of Psalms of David and the ' sons of Korah,' with a
slight intermixture from Heman and Ethan (Pss.
lxxxiv.-lxxxix.), all of them free from the Elohistic
redaction. The tone of these Psalms is in close har
mony with that of the preceding. Here, too, the

1 08 The Poets of the Old Testament
cry of the afflicted is heard. But hope has risen
amid the darkness. To this small group belong the
sweet Pilgrim Psalm on the loveliness of the restored
Temple (Ps. lxxxiv.), the glorious hymn in which
mercy and truth unite their voices, while righteous
ness and peace kiss each other, truth springing up
from the earth, and righteousness looking down from
heaven (Ps. lxxxv. o,ff.), and the dazzling prophetic
vision of Jerusalem as the mother-city of a universal
kingdom of God, with Egypt and Babylonia, Philis-
tia and Tyre and Ethiopia, among those that know
and worship Him (Ps. lxxxvii.).
Out of the mass of extant Psalmody a selection
now appears to have been made, entitled lam-
menaggedh, the Precentor's or Choirmaster's Psalter.
As the headlines show, the large majority of the
Psalms of Asaph and the ' sons of Korah,' with fully
half of the ' Davidic ' Books, contributed to this
Collection. The musical notes that distinguish so
many of the earlier Psalms apparently came from
the Choirmaster. In part, these suggest the tunes
to which the Psalms were set. As has been already
observed, the best of the old folk-songs were drawn
to the service of religion, and hymns in honour of
God were freely sung to the melodies of The Hind
of the Morning, The Lilies, The Dove of the Distant
Terebinths, and Die for the Son — in the same joyous
spirit as revival songs are still sometimes raised to

The Psalter 109
the tune of Auld Lang Syne or Robin Adair. In
part, too, the musical headings relate to the instru
mental accompaniment of the Psalms. From these
it is evident that Psalms were usually tuned to the
joyous notes of ' stringed instruments ' — harp or
lyre — though Ps. v. was probably accompanied by
the flute or pipe. The apparent references in Pss.
xii. and xlvi. to the bass and treble octaves have
been adduced as indications of at least the begin
nings of harmony. But the whole subject of Temple
music is still veiled in much obscurity.1
The selah which divides the stanzas of many such
Psalms has been the subject of considerable discus
sion. Selah is most probably the emphatic imper
ative of sdlal, ' raise ' or ' strike up,' and apparently
denotes some form of interlude in the rendering of the
Psalms. The Septuagint translates by hiatyakfia,
which is usually understood as a musical interlude.
On the other hand, the tradition in Jewish circles, as
represented by the Targums, interprets the term as
equivalent to I* 61dm, ' for ever.' Aquila, Jerome,
and other ancient translators follow the same line,
Jerome further comparing it with the closing Amen of
Jewish and Christian hymns. This would suggest that
the selah was a liturgical note, marking the point where
the worshippers raised the united ascription, ' Blessed
be Jahweh, God of Israel, from everlasting to ever-
1 Cf. ch, iii.

no The Poets of the Old Testament
lasting, Amen and Amen' (Ps. xii. 13), or some
similar burst of praise. If we must decide between
the two interpretations, the latter is certainly sup
ported by the balance of traditional evidence, be
sides being more in harmony with the ritual of the
Temple. As we have seen, however, such ascriptions
of praise were rung out by players and singers in
unison. At the dedication of the Temple, according
to the Chronicler (2 Chron. v. 13), all together made
' one sound,' as they blew the trumpets and sounded
forth the Benediction, ' Praise Jahweh, for He is
good ; for His mercy endureth for ever.' The litur
gical expression introduced by the selah may thus
have been a full-toned Doxology, both vocal and
instrumental, like the modern Gloria Patri or re
peated A men rendered by combined organ and
choir.1 With the increasing interest in worship that
followed the Restoration, fresh Collections of sacred
song continued to be formed. The most attractive
of these consists of the fifteen charming lyrics entitled
1 The question is thoroughly canvassed in the various Com
mentaries on the Psalms, as well as in articles in the Diet, of the
Bible and the Ency. Biblica. One of the freshest, fullest, and
sanest treatments of the subject is to be found in Briggs' Psalms,
I. Ixxxiv.ff. (following up his earher studies in the Journal of
Biblical Literature, etc.). Briggs argues strongly in favour of the
liturgical view, Haupt has recently worked out the original sug
gestion of Jacob, that seldh is rather the summons to ' reverential
prostration' (Expos. Times, xxii, 3742,) ,

The Psalter in
' Songs of Ascents ' (Pss. cxx.^cxxxiv.) — most
probably Pilgrim Songs sung by the joyful bands
that wended their way to Jerusalem, to take part
in the three great festivals of the people. These
Songs are of different date and origin, though all
tuned to the same sweet elegiac key. Here, too,
voices are heard ' out of the depths ' of suffering
and anxiety (Pss. cxx., cxxiii., cxxx., cxxxii.). But
for the most part they are full of the joy of redemp
tion. The Psalms ring with laughter as they sing
of Israel's escape from the fowlers' snare, and the
wondering recognition by the heathen of the ' great
things ' Jahweh has done for them (cxxiv., cxxvi.).
In a tone of quiet delight, again, they compare the
security of those that trust in Jahweh with the
impregnable strength of the mountains round Jeru
salem (cxxi., cxxv.). As befits their name, the
Pilgrim Songs touch their highest note when they
proclaim the glory of Jerusalem, recalling the blissful
moment when the pilgrims' feet actually stood within
the holy gates, and invoking the blessing of Jahweh
upon the city and her children (Ps. cxxii.). But
with a tender joy they dwell likewise on the pleasures
of family life, and the refreshing grace and fragrance
of brotherly unity (cxxvii., cxxviii., cxxxiii.). The
exquisite gems of imagery with which these Psalms
are studded add to their winsomeness — the whole
Collection yielding us the most pleasing impression

112 The Poets of the Old Testament
of the simple, gracious piety of the Israel of the later
ages. In addition to the Pilgrim Songs, the closing
Books of the Psalter have preserved the Hallelgvoup
(Pss. ciii., civ., cxi.-cviii.), chanted by the Jews at
the festivals to which the pilgrim bands ' went up,'
as well as on the night of the Passover ; a further
Hallel or Hallelujah Collection (Pss. cxlvi.-cl.),
whose liturgical place is more uncertain ; a group of
' new songs,' somewhat loosely connected under the
idea of Jahweh's righteous reign (xciii.-c.) ; the
Hodu, or ' Give praise to Jahweh,' Collection (cv.-
cvii.) ; a third cycle of so-called ' Davidic ' lyrics
(cxxxviii.-cxlv.) ; with various isolated Psalms, like
the ' prayer ' to Jahweh the Eternal (Ps. xc), the
song of Jahweh's protective grace (Ps. xci.), the
' sweetly monotonous ' acrostic in praise of the Law
(Ps. cxix.), and the plaint of the heart-sick exile
' by the waters of Babylon ' which breaks into such
fiery indignation against the oppressor (Ps. cxxxvii.).
The general stand-point of these Psalms is late.
There are no doubt survivals from an earlier date.
Thus Ps. cviii. is a mere welding together of two old
' prayers of David.' And the hot flames of Ps.
cxxxvii. 7ff. almost certainly burst from the very
furnace of the Babylonian Exile. But the ritualistic
colouring of the great majority of these Psalms,
their highly spiritual conceptions of the Eternal,

The Psalter 113
their smooth and conventional phraseology, the
numerous Aramaisms, and the general dependence
on the earlier Books, stamp them as products of the
piety of the late Persian and Greek eras. A few
despairing utterances of grief like Pss. cii., cix., and
the quartette cxl.-cxliii., may well belong to the
dark period of Syrian oppression which immediately
preceded the Maccabean age ; the triumphal notes
of Pss. cii. I2ff. and cxviii. may herald the glorious
dawn of that new day of Israel's history ; while the
second Hallel group (Pss. cxlv.-cl.) very probably
owes its origin to the new enthusiasm for worship
that followed the dedication of the Temple by Judas
Maccabeus, after its desecration by the Syrian army
(b.c 165), though certain elements in the group
may belong to a slightly older date.1
1 The suggestion of ' Maccabean ' Psalms was first made by
Theodore of Mopsuestia, who, while adhering to the accepted
dogma of Davidic authorship, regarded seventeen Psalms as
' prophetic ' of the Maccabean struggles. His true exegetical
successor, Calvin, directly assigned to the Maccabean era the
three Psalms of suffering and bloodshed, xliv., lxxiv., and lxxix.
The theory was taken up, and extended along bolder lines, by
scholars like Rudinger, Bengel, Hitzig, and Olshausen. But
the chmax was not reached until Duhm, and more recently R. H.
Kennett, in his article on ' Psalms ' in the new edition of the Encyc.
Brit., pronounced practically the whole Psalter, even including
Book I, to be an expression of the intense, though narrow, piety
of the Maccabean age. That Psalms continued to be composed
till long after the Maccabean struggles is evident from the exist
ence of the ' Psalter of Solomon,' a Collection of religious lays
voicing the troubles and sorrows of the persecution under Pom-

114 The Poets of the Old Testament
The completion of the Psalter appears to be con
nected with the same great awakening of the national
spirit. The Son of Sirach, who flourished about
the year 180, is no doubt acquainted with Psalms
of David. In his Praise of Famous Men (xlvii. 8)
he celebrates David as a singer of songs in honour of
God Most High ; while his Wisdom is largely
steeped in the feeling and language of the Psalms.
But the Book had not yet been elevated to a place
pey the Great (c. 63-48 B.C.), and the recently discovered Syriac
' Odes of Solomon,' which, on any view of their origin, bring us
beyond the middle of the first Christian century. But the whole
tone of these latter Collections is so different from the simple piety
of the Psalms that a considerable gulf of time must separate them.
The relation of 1 Chron. xvi. 8ff.tothe three Psalms of which it is
woven is still too'uncertain to base reliable arguments upon. But
the witness of the Wisdom of Ben Sira does appear to bear strongly
against the extreme view. This evidence was forcibly urged in
Ehrt's early thesis on the Abfassungszeit und Abschluss des Psalters
(1869), and has certainly not lost in importance since the discovery
of the original Hebrew of Ben Sira. In the Introduction to his
edition of the Hebrew text, Schechter catalogues the various
allusions he finds in Ben Sira to the Books of the Old Testament,
including some seventy parallels with the Psalter, in all its parts.
The impression borne in upon his[mind by the study of these paral
lels ' is that of reading the work of a post-canonical author, who
already knew his Bible and was constantly quoting it ' (Wisdom
of Ben Sira, p. 26). The whole question has been subjected to
fresh, careful review by Kemper Fullerton in a series of ' Studies
in the Psalter ' (Biblical World, Sept., 1910, and following num
bers), with the result that dependence is shown, not merely on
Pss. xliv. and lxxiv., but even on cxlvii. The existence of Macca
bean Psalms cannot be categorically denied. But the question
should at least be handled with caution, and such Psalms sought
only in the latest sections of the Psalter.

The Psalter 115
of honour alongside of the Law and Prophets. When
Ben Sira's grandson, however, penned the famous
Preface to his translation of the Wisdom, some few
years after 132 B.C., the Psalter appears to have been
not merely accepted within the Canon, but even
translated into Greek. The Book will thus have
been completed about the middle of the second cen
tury, most probably during the renaissance that
marked the brilliant reign of Simon the Maccabee.
In their final form the Psalms are arranged in five
Books — a poetical counterpart to the five Books of
Moses, as Jewish tradition loved to regard them.
The old Psalter of David maintained its place as
Book I ; the Elohistic Psalms were divided at the
close of the ' prayers of David ' ; while the miscel
laneous groups of the later period were gathered
into two Books, by a sharp cleavage of the Hodu
Psalms. The titles which formerly stood at the
head of separate Collections were then distributed
over the individual Psalms, and various notices
indicating the probable occasions of their inspiration
added from the Books of Samuel. Other new head
ings relate to the liturgical associations of different
Psalms. Thus the song of salvation (Ps. xxx.) is
specially set apart for ' the dedication of the House '
— doubtless the joyful restoration of Temple wor
ship under Judas Maccabeus. Ps. xcii. is the Sab
bath song. Two other Psalms, xxxiii, and Ixx,, are

1 1 6 The Poets of the Old Testament
assigned Vhazkir, i.e. most probably, to the 'azkdra,
or offering up of incense, and Ps. c. Hhodah, to the
sacrifice of thanksgiving. By the prefixing of Pss.
i., ii. — which celebrate the happiness of the man who
walks in the law of the Lord, and the impregnable
might and glory of the kingdom of God — a key-note
is given to the Psalter. The first four Books end
with Doxologies ; and the complete Collection closes
with the full outburst of praise in Ps. cl. The Book
is thus fittingly described as sepher PhilUm — the
' Praise Book ' of the Jewish people. Our ' Psalter '
is a simple derivative of the Septuagint 's tyaXrrjpiov,
or ' Harp '—a metonymous term for Praise exactly
parallel with the ' Harp of the Covenant ' or the
Lyra Apostolica.
The Psalter is thus a rich Anthology of the purest
expressions of Israel's prayer and praise. For the
most part, the individual Psalms touch the chords
of true personal feeling. But at times the poet
identifies himself so completely with his people that
the ' I ' is virtually the heart of the community
uttering itself through his words. Even in the
original ' Davidic ' Book, for example, the trium
phant notes of Ps. xviii. rise towards the close far
beyond the individual range of feeling, while the
sorrows of the ' worm ' in Ps. xxii., combined with
the world-wide glory that shines out upon his griefs,
acquire a worthier meaning if read, like the corre-

The Psalter 117
sponding parts of Deutero-Isaiah, of the sufferings
and future exaltation of the afflicted community.
Of the later Psalms, the plaintive ' prayers ' lix.,
Ixi., Ixii., Ixvi., Ixix., etc. virtually identify the
sufferer with Israel. In the opening verse of Ps.
cxxix. Israel is directly introduced as the speaker.
But so easily did the imagination of Hebrew poets
and prophets glide from individual experience to the
larger life of the whole, that much else which appears
distinctively personal to the Western mind, especi
ally in the closing Books, whose interest is so largely
national and Churchly, may be the real outflow of
communal feeling.1
1 The collective view is already reflected in the LXX, and
openly taught by many of the Rabbis, including Raschi, Aben
Ezra, and Kimhi. The Church Fathers also interpreted the
' I ' allegorically as the voice of the Christian community. With
the restoration of sound exegetical methods under Luther and
Calvin, the individual view came generally to prevail. Ap
proaches to a wider standpoint were made by Rudinger, Heng-
stenberg, and Reuss ; but the first to base the ' communal ' idea
on scientific principle was Olshausen, who introduced the now
prevalent conception of the Psalter as the ' Hymn-book of the
Jewish Community.' This gave Smend the impulse to his epoch-
making article on " the ' I ' of the Psalms," in the ZATW. for
1 888, pp. 492 . Here Smend examines each Psalm in detail, and
arrives at the conclusion that the ' I ' is invariably no mere
individual, but the community expressing itself as a personified
unit. The keenness and sweep of Smend' s analysis made an
extraordinary impression on the scholarship of the age. His con
clusion was largely accepted without reserve. And scholars like
Robertson Smith and Cheyne admitted that, to a considerable
extent at least, ' the psalmists speak, not as individuals, but in
the name of the Church-nation ' (Cheyne, Origin of the Psalter,

1 1 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
The literary quality of the Psalter varies with its
mood. There are utterances of gloom and depres
sion that hardly rise from the depths. And many
of the later Psalms are stiff and stereotyped in
expression, often mere centos from older songs. In
general, the language is simple and natural ; for the
Psalms represent mainly the feelings of the common
worshipper. But when inspired by devout imagina
tion or holy wrath, they are lit up by the glow of
genuine poetry. The more lyrical parts of the
Psalter — e.g. the many-toned ' Psalms of David,'
the joyful Pilgrim Songs, and the lofty patriotic
odes of Asaph and the ' sons of Korah ' — are alive
with spiritual freshness, vigour, and fire, and radiant
with colour and imagery. Even the conventional
notes of the later Books, the ' new songs ' and Halle
lujahs which proclaim the righteous reign of Jahweh,
are sustained on a plane of calm dignity and majesty
that no other religious song approaches.
Various attempts have been made to classify the
Psalms according to their style or subject-matter.
On the whole, probably the most successful, because
p. 261). A violent reaction against this view began with Duhm's
Kurzer Hand-Commentar to the Psalms, where a distinct and
often highly aggressive personality is attributed to the Psalmists.
More recent scholars hke Beer, Baethgen, Gunkel, Davison and
Witton Davies approach the subject, not by sweeping assertions
on either side, but by careful examination of individual Psalms,
doing justice alike to the essentially ' subjective ' character of
lyrical poetry, and to the adaptation of the Psalms to congrega
tional worship.

The Psalter 119
the simplest, scheme is Hengstenberg's three-fold
division into (i) Psalms of Praise (the fhilloth of
the head-lines) — that is, ' such Psalms as proceeded
from a spirit chiefly moved and actuated by joy,
showing itself in lively admiration of God, or grati
tude for His astonishing goodness in bestowing gifts
on the people generally, or on individuals, declaring
the sense inwardly cherished of His love, or celebrat
ing in glowing terms the majesty, glory, and grace
of God ' ; (2) Psalms of supplication (fphilloth, or
'prayers'), such, namely, 'as proceeded from a
depressed and mournful frame of mind — variations
of the " Lord have mercy on us," which alternates
with the hallelujah in the lives of the saints ' ; and
(3) religious moral or didactic Psalms (maskilim),
' which proceeded from a more quiet reflective state
of mind.' x
But it is really impossible to classify such a wealth
of varied spiritual emotion as we find in the Psalms.
In seeking to force them within our rigid schemata,
we are only too apt to lose the spirit that gives them
Ufe. It seems better, therefore, to abandon any
attempt at mechanical arrangement, and to seek
instead to enter sympathetically into the religious
world of the Psalmists, that we may catch glimpses,
at least, of the glory that dawned upon their spirits,
and thus be able to feel in some measure as they did.
1 Commentary on the Psalms, E. T., vol. III., p. ix.

CHAPTER VII
The Psalmists' Thoughts of God
The centre of the Psalmists' universe is God, the
shining point round which all their faith and hope
revolve, the living Source of their light and strength
and joy. He is omnipresent in the Psalms. And
that not as the end of patient search and striving.
He is the first principle of life and feeling. Only
the ' fool ' said in his heart there was no God. The
wise man was sure of Him. For he knew Him by
innumerable facts of personal experience. His
whole being was wrapped in God's. And his deepest
thoughts and expectations were of Him.
From the central place God occupies in the Psalm
ists' world it necessarily follows that He is one.
The poet who revels in the infinite realm of Nature's
beauty may people the Universe with ' gods many
and lords many ; ' but earnest spirits living in the
immediate presence of the Divine could have no god
beside Him they reverenced. In the Psalter, indeed,
we meet with traces of the older henotheism. Thus
God is represented as ' standing in the assemblage
of the Mighty, holding judgment among the gods '

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 121
(lxxxii. 1). But these other gods are introduced
only to exalt His supremacy. They are all but faint
shadows or phantoms of gods, over against whom
He stands in unapproachable splendour of light
and majesty.
There is none like Thee 'mong the gods, O Lord ;
And no works are there like Thy works (lxxxvi. 8).
Through the whole circuit of the skies no god can be
compared with Him —
A God feared in the assemblage of the holy ones,
Great and awful o'er all around Him (Ixxxix. 6f.).
The contrast between the impotent gods the nations
worshipped and the Almighty God of Israel is power
fully emphasized in the triumphant challenge : —
Why say the nations,
Where is now their God ?
Our God is in the heavens ;
He doth whate'er He pleaseth.
Their gods are gold and silver,
Work of the hands of men.
Mouths they have, but speak not ;
Eyes they have, but see not.
Ears they have, but hear not ;
Nostrils they have, but smell not.
Hands they have, but handle not ;
Feet they have, but walk not.
From their throat they give no sound :
No breath is in their mouth.1
Like them shall be their makers,
Even all that trust in them.
1 The missing stichos is supplied from Ps. cxxxv. 17, which is
a direct quotation from the present Psalm.

122 The Poets of the Old Testament
But Israel trusts x in Jahweh ;
He is their help and shield (cxv. 2ff.).
In the old folk-poetry the home of Israel's God
was the sacred mount of Sinai, from which He came
amid thunder and storm to aid His people in their
needs. Poetic survivals of this primitive conception
still linger in the Psalter (e.g. Ixviii. 7±T.). But the
general thought of the Psalms is of a God near to save
and bless. In the days of Zion's glory devout minds
in Israel loved to think of Him as dwelling in their
midst, enthroned ' upon the cherubim ' within the
Holy Place of the Temple, whither His people went
' to see His face ' (xxiv. 6, etc.), and whence He
sent them help and strength (xx. 2 ; xxvii. 4!, etc.).
But alongside of this more limited view of His
presence there meet us, even in the earlier Psalms,
exalted conceptions of Jahweh as the King of heaven.
Jahweh is in His holy Temple ;
Jahweh's throne is in heaven (xi. 4).
In the ritualistic age after the Exile this was the
dominant thought of God. He was the Holy One —
infinitely exalted above human weakness and imper
fection — the Eternal God — from everlasting to ever
lasting — Before the mountains were brought forth,
Or the earth and world were conceived,2
1 The context demands the perfect tense of the LXX, instead
of the imperative of the Massoretic text.
2 Read the Polal 7?irW, with the majority of the Versions.

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 123
in whose sight a thousand years were but
As yesterday when it is gone,
Or as a watch in the night (xc. 2ff.)—
the King reigning in majesty on His throne above,
' wrapped about with light as with a garment '
(civ. 2), watching all things that passed on earth,
and by His almighty fiat directing the world, and
turning the counsels of the nations to subserve His
purpose (cf. Pss. xciii., xcv., xcvi., etc.). This
thought of God's transcendent majesty and glory
imparted to the Hebrew faith an elevation and sub
limity of feeling that no other ancient religion at
tained. At the same time, it tended to remove God
to heights of spiritual grandeur inaccessible to mortal
man. Before Him the saints might humble them
selves in prostrate reverence and awe, or seek to
approach Him by sacrifice or prayer. To many
there seemed no more ' living ' way to His presence.
Yet on the wings of faith and prayer the humble
spirit could soar to God in His heaven. Or rather
God Himself bent down to hear and answer His
people's prayers. In the naive imagery of the
earlier age, the storm-clouds that attended His
march from Sinai became the chariot on which He
descended from the clouds.
He bowed the heavens, and came down,
Thick darkness under His feet.
He rode on a cherub, and flew —
Swooped down on the wings of the wind.

1 24 The Poets of the Old Testament
Darkness He made His covert,
The veil encircling his presence.
Darkness of waters veiled Him,
A thicket of clouds without light1 (xviii. gff.).
To the more spiritual vision of later days it was God's
own love and sympathy that bridged the gulf, and
brought Him down to help.
High above all nations is Jahweh,
Above heaven His glory.
Who is like Jahweh our God,
That dwelleth on high ;
Yet stoopeth down to behold
The dwellers on earth ? a
He raiseth the poor from the dust,
From the dunghill the needy,
To give him a dwelling with princes,
The lords of his people (cxiii. ^ff .) .
But deeper knowledge found no spatial gulf between
God and man . He whose presence filled both heaven
and earth dwelt also with His people,
Nigh unto all that call Him,
Unto all that call Him in truth (cxlv. 18).
The very exaltation of God thus became the measure
of His power and grace to help the humble.
1 The text here has been somewhat mutilated. For IflSp it
is probably better to read 1J1P3. Before D?D"n3B>n the verb has
fallen out ; Duhm happily suggests -1HD3. For '31? read '31J,
with various Versions ; and close the verse with the P133D, which
has wrongly attached itself to the following (cf . Bickell, Duhm) .
2 The idea of ' heaven ' has no place after God's ' stooping
down.' D!&B'3 may be a mere shp for D'JE'i'.

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 125
Though Jahweh be high,
He beholdeth the lowly ;
But knoweth the proud from afar (cxxxviii. 6).
He who ' telleth the number of the stars, and giveth
them all their names,' by the same great might
Healeth the broken in heart,
And bindeth up all their wounds (cxlvii. 3L).
The great God, ' mighty in power,' of whose under
standing there is ' no count,'
upholdeth the meek,
But the wicked brings low to the ground (cxlvii. 5I).
This widening thought of God's universal Presence
receives its grandest expression in that majestic
Psalm (cxxxix.), which Aben Ezra regards as ' the
crown of the Psalter ' : —
0 Lord, my God, Thou hast searched me.
Throughly Thou knowest my heart.1
Thou knowest my sitting and rising,
Thou reddest my thought afar off.
Thou provest my walk and my couching ;
Thou'rt acquainted with all my ways.
There is not » word on my tongue,
But, Lord ! Thou knowest it all.
Behind and before me besetting,
On me Thou hast laid Thy hand.
Too wondrous this knowledge for me !
It is high — J cannot attain it.

Where shall I go from Thy spirit,
Or where shall I flee from Thy face ?
If I climb to the heavens, Thou art there ;
If I couch in Sheol, Thou art there.
1 The opening verse is incomplete ; but the missing words are
now irrecoverably lost, I have simply filled in the sense required.

1 2 6 The Poets of the Old Testament
If / take me the wings of the morning,
And dwell at the end of the sea —
Even there Thy hand will grasp me,
Thy right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, ' The darkness will hide me,
And the night throw its curtain around me,'
Even the darkness for Thee is not dark,
But the night shines clear as the day.
To the pure religious feeling of the Hebrew poets
this ' besetting ' Presence was a real, living Person.
In its portraiture of the Divine character the lan
guage of the Psalms is often strongly anthropo
morphic. God not merely ' sits ' on His throne,
seeing and hearing all things in heaven and earth,
but He is moved by pity and sorrow, love and wrath,
as His children are, and under the impulse of His
feelings bestirs Himself to act. He stands by the
right hand of the good, warding off the evils that
beset them, and making their way prosperous (xvi.
8). On the wicked He ' rains out fire and brim
stone ' (xi. 6). He ' girds His anointed with
strength for the battle,' subduing the peoples under
him (xviii. 39JS.). He puts forth His hand, and
draws the righteous ' out of the horrible pit,' planting
his feet on a rock, and making his goings sure (xl.
2). But again He ' hides His face,' and thinks no
more of the affliction of His people ; He seems even
to go to sleep, and abandon them for ever (xliv.
23f.). Then at the voice of their supplication and
cries He awakes from His sleep, and shouts at the

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 127
foe ' like a hero overcome with wine,' beating them
backward, and covering them with perpetual re
proach (Ixxviii. 65L). In His contempt for the
plots of the wicked, He ' laughs aloud ' (ii. 4 ;
xxxvii. 13 ; lix. 8), holding all of them in derision.
He appears actually to change His countenance
with the changing moods of men.
To the good Thou dost show Thyself good,
To the perfect man perfect ;
To the pure Thou dost show Thyself pure,
To the crooked man perverse (xvin. 25L).
The boldness of such thoughts of the Eternal may
be sometimes even offensive to the Christian mind.
But anthropomorphism was the very life of ancient
religions. And the strength of the anthropo
morphisms measured the vitality of the religion.
A God robbed of all human traits of character, and
spiritualized into pure passionless Being, would be
' hollow, empty, and poor,' an abstraction that
simple souls could not contemplate or worship with
joyful confidence. The anthropomorphic concep
tion gave the bare idea of God its fullness of content,
thus making religion both a possibility and a delight.
And the richer the anthropomorphism, the fuller
the good man's life and joy in God.
A study of the Divine names is often of supreme
importance in reaching the heart of ancient piety.
For to the primitive mind the name was no mere

128 The Poets of the Old Testament
appendage, but a real expression of character. In
this respect, however, there is nothing distinctive
about the Psalter. The Book but reflects the
general viewpoint of the Old Testament. Thus the
broad name for ' god ' is 'El, or ' strong one,' with
the plural 'Elim used of the general category of
' gods,' and 'Elohim, a plural of eminence or majesty,
of the One Supreme God of heaven and earth. The
word 'El is occasionally found in conjunction with
'Elyon, ' the Most High,' or Shaddai, the archaic
name for ' Almighty.' But by far the most frequent
of the Divine names — in harmony with the per
sonal piety of the Psalter — is the personal fahweh.
As has been noted, this title predominates in Books
I, IV, and V, while even in the Elohistic Psalter
(Books II and III) the 'Elohim is mainly redactional.
The original meaning of Jahweh is still involved
in deep uncertainty. A convincing hypothesis
would, no doubt, throw a flood of light on the earlier
stages of Old Testament religion. This is less vital,
however, for our present purpose. To the devout
feeling of the Psalmists the name Jahweh suggested
not its primal significance, but the whole content •
of the term, as enlarged by centuries of religious
experience. And to this wider connotation their
own utterances contributed no small share. It is
essential, therefore, that we enrich the personality
of Jahweh by the Psalmists' many-sided thought of

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 129
Him, and the fullness of spiritual emotion they
lavished on His name.
In the Psalter one naturally expects to find de
posits from the age-long stream of Israel's religious
tradition. Thus the old conception of Jahweh as
the storm-god has already been met with in xviii.
7ff. Survivals of the still more primitive thought
of Jahweh as the conqueror of the mythical powers
Leviathan and Rahab persist even in late Psalms
like lxxiv. 13ft. and lxxxix. 8ff . He appears likewise
as the war-god, ' the Lord of battle-hosts,' who
defends His city and people against their enemies,
or leads His armies to the conflict, ' girds them
with strength ' for the victory, and returns with
them in triumph to the ' hoary ' gates of Zion
(xviii. 32ff., xxiv. 7ff., xlvi. iff., etc.). But the
real Jahweh of the Psalms has long outgrown these
cruder conceptions. He is essentially ethical, the
good and gracious God with whom His people love
to have fellowship. And only as we enter into
sympathy with this thought of the Eternal do we
touch the living spirit of the Psalter.
It is proverbially difficult to analyse character.
The personality is one undivided whole. In analys
ing, therefore, we are apt to lose the whole in its
parts. The difficulty is especially acute when we
seek to define the character of God. It is not merely
that He transcends our petty attempts to measure

130 The Poets of the Old Testament
His greatness. But in our analyses we incur the
danger of setting the Divine Nature before our
minds as a series of lifeless attributes, with which
the soul can enjoy no real fellowship. The intense
personal piety of the Psalmists raised them above
this danger. They dwell, indeed, on aspects of the
Divine character. But these are never abstracted
from the fullness of His personality. It is the living
God Himself, and not His mere attributes, that
fill their spiritual horizon. And when they do
centre their vision on separate qualities of His
character, they seek to view them in harmony, and
to relate them to the fundamental unity of His
Person. For, unlike the gods of the nations, who
are too often bundles of moral contradiction, Jahweh
is not merely One God, He is a self-consistent per
sonality, true to Himself and the moral principles
by which He orders the Universe. This ethical
unity of the Divine character receives just emphasis
in the Psalter. The God of the Psalmists is true.
The root quality of His being is 'emeth or 'emundh —
truth, consistency, fidelity to principle. And one
manifestation of His truth is gedhek or g'dhakah,
righteousness, or unswerving allegiance to that
which is straightforward, upright, and honourable.
In the Psalms the two qualities are vitally related.
God and His judgments are ' true and righteous
altogether,' moved by sole regard to goodness and

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 131
honour. This harmony of truth and righteousness
is equally involved in the idea of God's perfection.
The law and the ways of God are t'mimim — perfect,
complete, all-round in their goodness. And with
God perfection is no superficial appearance. His
word is bar, pure, sincere, true to the inmost heart.
There is no more significant evidence of the ethical
principle of Old Testament religion than the intim
ate relation of holiness to the qualities just indi
cated. In itself, holiness has no essential bearing
on morality. It might even become the handmaid
of the vilest immorality. The idea suggests merely
God's separation or transcendence. Holiness is
that by which God rises above men. But in the
religion of Israel this transcendence is distinctively
moral. God surpasses His creatures in righteous
ness, purity, and goodness. And His rule over man
is inspired by these ideals.
Thou art no God that hath pleasure in wickedness ;
No evil man shall sojourn with Thee.
Before Thine eyes no boasters shall stand ;
Thou hatest all workers of iniquity (v. 4).
His eyes look down on the world,
His eyelids try the children of men ;
Jahweh trieth both righteous and evil,
His soul doth hate the lovers of violence.
On the wicked He raineth coals of fire ;
And glowing wind is the portion of their cup.
For Jahweh is righteous, and loveth right things ;
The upright alone shall behold His face (xi. 4ff.),

132 The Poets of the Old Testament
Yet the God of the Psalmists is no inflexible
Judge, dispensing the destinies of life on the basis
of hard, stern justice. On its other side, truth is
related to love and mercy. In the Psalms the two
qualities are frequently united. ' The paths of the
Lord are love and truth ' (xxv. 10). In answer to
His people's prayers He ' sends forth His love and
truth ' (lvii. 3). In the perfection of His character
' love and truth are met together ' (lxxxv. 10). He
is a God ' compassionate and gracious, slow to anger,
and full of love and truth ' (lxxxvi. 15). There
is no contradiction, therefore, between God's justice
and His love. The two are complementary quali
ties — poles of the Divine character — alike essential
to the full harmony of His nature. Thus in various
passages of the Psalms they appear in true poetic
parallelism. For example : —
He deligkteth in right and judgment ;
The earth is full of His love (xxxiii. 5),
as though love were the twin-sister of judgment ;
His work is honour and majesty,
And His righteousness endureth for ever.
Remembered hath He made His wonders ;
Gracious and compassionate is Jahweh (cxi. 3L).
Thus the saving mercies of God — His gracious deeds
of help and deliverance — may be regarded as the
perfect work now of His righteousness, and again

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 133
of His love, or even as the fruitage of love and
righteousness combined.
By awful things in righteousness wilt Thou answer us,
O God of our salvation (lxv. 5).
Show us Thy love, O Lord ;
And grant us Thy salvation (lxxxv. 7).
The Lord hath made known His salvation,
His righteousness unveiled to the eyes of the nations.
He hath remembered His love unto Jacob,
His truth to the household of Israel.
All ends of the earth have seen
The salvation of our Lord (xcviii. 2f.).
The same fine balance is preserved in the great
symphony of the Divine goodness (xxxvi. 5ff.),
where God's immeasurable love responds to His
eternal justice, and the heart of the Psalmist goes
out in joyful trust to this loving, faithful, and
righteous Lord as the fountain of all his good : —
Thy love, Lord, soars to heaven ;
To the skies Thy faithfulness.
As the mountains of God is Thy justice ;
As the great abyss are Thy judgments.
Both man and beast Thou preservest ;
O Lord, how precious Thy love !
To Thee draw the sons of men ;x
In the shade of Thy wings they hide them.

1 The Hebrew text is here obviously incomplete. Duhm has
ingeniously suggested '33 -1K3J ^B for '3.3-1 D'r6x, thus giving a
true parallelism.

134 The Poets of the Old Testament
They are filled with the fat of Thy house ;
Thou makest them drink of the brook of Thy pleasures:
For with Thee is the fountain of life ;
In Thy light do we see light.
The poet has here risen almost to the Christian
conception of love as the full radiance of the Divine
character. From not a few other spiritual uplands
of the Psalter this light shines forth clear and pure.
Jahweh's love to those that trust in Him is ' mar
vellous ' (xvii. 7), beyond all power to tell (xl. 5) ;
it has continued ' from eternity ' (xxv. 6), and will
equally ' endure for ever ' (cxviii. iff. ; cxxxvi. iff.) ;
it is the anchor of faith and hope when all else is
lost (xxvii. 13) ; it is life itself (xxx. 5), even ' better
than life ' (lxiii. 3). For love is God's eternal
nature, that which He cannot forget without being
false to Himself (lxxvii. 7ff.).1 And the words by
which the Psalmists describe the Divine love show
how very dear it was tothem. The general term
tobhdh, ' goodness,' is occasionally used of the kindly,
gracious acts of Jahweh. But by far the most
1 ' The prophet deals justly with the question whether God will
continue to be gracious ; for the fundamental law of the goodness
that God extends to us involves its abiding to the end. Thus
he does not exactly expostulate with God ; but rather in his
self-communings he argues from the nature of God that He cannot
but continue His gracious favour towards the good, to whom He
shows Himself in the character of a Father. . . . It is as though
he said, How can God interrupt the course of His fatherly good
ness, seeing He cannot divest Himself of His own nature ? ' —
Calvin, sub loco.

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 135
frequent word is hesed, a noun derived from the
Semitic root for softness, which emphasizes the
warmth and constancy of the heart of God. As
applied to Him, the word signifies ' neither more
nor less than paternal affection.' x To the Psalmists
God's love was like a father's — tender, loyal, true,
unceasingly active, delighting to show itself in word
and deed. A stream of still richer emotion is thrown
into the current of Divine love by the nearly-related
term rahamim, from the same root as rehem, ' the
womb,' thus suggesting something of the yearning
passion of the mother's love. God thus united in
Himself all that was purest and best in human
love. His love even transcended the dearest of
human affections. For
Should father and mother forsake me,
Jahweh would take me up (xxvii. 10).
This love of God, so boundless in height and
depth, moves over the whole circuit of human life.
His eyes are ever on the good, that He may uphold
them waking and sleeping, and deliver them from
all their troubles (iii. 5 ; iv. 8, etc.). He gives them
victory over their foes (xviii. i6f., etc.) ; He saves
them from fear and want (xxxiv. gff.) ; He com
passes them about with His favour as with a shield
(v. 12) ; He establishes them in all their ways (vii.
9). He keeps them 'as the apple of His eye'
1 Cheyne, Ency. Bibl., art. Loving-kindness, Col. 2826.

136 The Poets of the Old Testament
(xvii. 8) ; He hides them in the secret of His tent
(xxvii. 5). He judges the fatherless and the op
pressed (x. 18) ; He comforts the afflicted, and
saves the contrite (xxxiv. 18). He delivers the
souls of the righteous from the grave (xvi. 10 ; xxx.
3 ; lvi. 13) ; He turns their mourning into dancing,
removes their sackcloth, and girds them with glad
ness (xxx. 11). He visits the earth, and gives men
their corn in season (lxv. o,ff.). He guides the
wanderers, and saves the captives ; He heals the
sick, and protects the voyagers amid the storm
(cvii. iff.) . He keeps them from perils of sun and
moon (cxxi. 3ft.). But His crowning work is in
forgiveness. Jahweh is a righteous God, ' that
hath indignation every day ' against the wicked
(vii. 11, etc.). And yet His heart is moved with
compassion for the sinful sons of men. His nature
is to forgive ; for His name is love and mercy (xxv.
7, 11). At the first impulse of repentance, in
answer to the first stammering accents of compas
sion, He freely forgives the iniquity of men's sin
(xxxii. 5), creating in them a clean heart, and re
newing within them a steadfast spirit, immovably
turned to the right (li. 10). For the forgiving love
of God is still wedded to righteousness. With Him
there is forgiveness, ' that He may be feared '
(cxxx. 4), — that His children's hearts may be moved
by reverent love to Him, and that they may do His

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 137
will with a free, glad spirit, — love being here, too,
' the fulfilling of the law.'
In none of the Psalms is the universal sweep of
the love of God unfolded with such beauty of lan
guage, and unaffected delight and tenderness of
feeling, as in the old Scottish Communion Psalm
(ciii.) :—
Bless thou Jahweh, my soul, —
Even all within me, (bless) His holy name !
Bless thou Jahweh, my soul,
And forget not all His benefits !
Who pardoneth all thine iniquities,
And healeth all thy diseases ;
Who redeemeth thy life from the pit,
And with love and compassion doth crown thee;
Who sateth thy soul with goodness,
That thy youth is renewed like the eagle's.
(For) a worker of right things is Jahweh,
And of judgment for all the oppressed.
He made known His ways unto Moses,
His deeds to the children of Israel.
Yea, gracious and tender is Jahweh,
Slow to anger, and plenteous in love.
He will not always contend,
Nor keep up His anger for ever ;
Not by our sins hath He dealt vbith us,
Nor treated us by our iniquities.
For high as the heavens o'er the earth
Is His love o'er them that fear Him ;
As far as the East from the West,
So far hath He put our transgressions.
As a father yearns o'er his children,
So yearns Jahweh o'er them that fear Him.

138 The Poets of the Old Testament
For 'tis He that knoweth our frame —
He is mindful that we are dust.
Frail man — his days are as grass ;
As a flower of the field, he doth flourish.
When the wind passeth o'er, it is gone,
And its place doth know it no more.
But Jahweh's love is for ever,
To children's children His righteousness, —
When they steadfastly keep His covenant,
And remember His precepts to do them.
In the heavens hath He stdblished His throne,
And His kingdom hath rule over all.
Bless Jahweh, all ye His angels,
Ye mighty ones, doing His word !
Bless Jahweh, all ye His hosts,
Ye servants, fulfilling His pleasure !
Bless Jahweh, all ye His works,
In every place where He rules !
But the Psalmists not only linger with joy on the
thought of God's love. They visualize it also in
image and symbol. Thus God is their ' shield,' to
ward off the weapons of the enemy (iii. 3), their
' strong tower ' or castle, whither they may flee
for refuge in the time of distress (ix. 9), the ' rock '
on which they can stand secure from danger (xviii.
2; xix. 14, etc.), their ' refuge and strength,' their
' ever present help in trouble ' (xlvi. 1) ; He is the
' light ' by which the righteous walk through dark
ness, and in whose radiance they also see light
(xxvii. 1 ; xxxvi. 9) ; with Him too is ' the fountain
of life,' the well-spring of all life's freshness and
joy (xxxvi. 8f.) ; He is the ' portion of their inherit-

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 139
ance,' and the brimming ' cup ' of their pleasure
(xvi. 5), the ' sun ' of the good man's heavens, the
radiant centre of his light and hope (lxxxiv. 11),
his ' strength and song and salvation ' (cxviii. 14).
Still more deeply do we enter into the heart of
the Psalmists' piety through the living and human
images under which they body forth His goodness.
Like our Lord Himself they occasionally represent
God as a mother-bird, in the shadow of whose wings
they nestle in perfect safety and joy (lvii. i ; lxiii.
7, etc.) . They think of Him likewise as the go' el, the
' redeemer ' or champion, who receives His afflicted
ones within the sanctuary of His tent, and defends
them against the enemies that clamour for their
life (x. 18 ; xv. i ; xix. 14, etc.). A figure suggesting
to the Oriental mind the highest measure of loyalty
and devotion — that of the good shepherd, ' that
layeth down his life for the sheep ' — is met with in
various Psalms (lxxix. 13; Ixxx. 1; xcv. 7; c. 3),
where Jahweh appears as the Shepherd of Israel.
But nowhere is this image so sweetly portrayed as
in the immortal Shepherd-Psalm (xxiii.), where in
sensibly the figure of the Shepherd passes into that
of the Host and Friend : —
The Lord is my Shepherd ; nought lack I
On fresh, green pastures.1
1 As the measure is elegiac throughout, it seems necessary to
omit the superfluous ^V'3/V-

140 The Poets of the Old Testament
By the gentle waters * He leads me,
Refreshing my soul ;
He guides me by paths that are right,
For His own name's sake.
Though I walk through the vale of deep darkness,
I will fear no evil ;
Thou art with me : Thy rod and Thy staff *—
They comfort me.
Thou spreadest for me a table
In the face of my foes ;
Thou anoint est my head with oil,
My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and love will pursue me
All the days of my life ;
And in Jahweh's house will I dwell
For length of days.
The thought of the love of God has thus brought
us near to the cardinal teaching of Jesus Christ.
For there is no vital contrast between Psalter and
Gospel. Jesus but focussed in His own Person the
rays of light that streamed through the older Cove
nant. To the devout spirit in both New and Old
Covenants, God was essentially love. And His love
was conceived under the purest images of human
affection. We have seen how the Psalter antici
pates even the thought of the Father-God. The
lips of the Psalmists may not yet have learned to
1 nirU3D 'D, lit. waters of rest or repose.
2 The rod is the mace or club with which the shepherd defended
the sheep against robbers or beasts of prey, the staff the crook by
which he helped them out of hard or dangerous ground.

The Psalmists' Thoughts of God 141
say, ' Abba,' Father ; but they can at least think
of the Eternal yearning over His people as a father
over his children, and stooping to receive them
when both father and mother have proved them
false. They picture Him also as a ' Father of the
fatherless ' (Ixviii. 5), and the ' God and Father ' of
righteous kings (lxxxix. 26f.). It needed but a
fuller conception of God as the universal King and
Lord, and the unveiling of His character in a true
Son, to bring to the light His perfect Fatherly Being
and to lead men to pray from the heart, ' Our Father
which art in heaven.'

CHAPTER VIII
The Glory of God in Nature
The chapter on folk-poetry has already evinced
the Hebrews' love of Nature. In the Psalms this
feeling receives much fuller expression. There may
be nothing here approaching the plastic power of
Greek art, nor any of the modern poets' delight in
Nature as a joy in itself. The Hebrew spirit was
too predominantly subjective to lose itself thus in
objects of outward contemplation. But throughout
the Book there flash upon us gleams of the most
delicate appreciation of Nature's essential beauty,
with piercing glances into the hidden ' life of things,'
unobscured by the half-lights of more conscious
art, which give the Hebrew poets a unique place
in the spiritual interpretation of the Universe.
The Psalmists' feeling for Nature is almost modern
in its range. Like other ancient poets, they find
a deep delight in the sweeter scenes that haunt
their vision : the tree planted by streams of water,
that yieldeth its fruit in season, and whose leaf
fadeth not (i. 3), the clinging vine, and the tender
oliverstem, surrounded by its circlet of shootlings
142

The Glory of God in Nature 143
(cxxviii. 3), the rich green grass, and the flower of
the field, so delicate in its beauty, yet so soon
withered and gone (xc. 5f. ; ciii. 15L), the furrows
ridged and watered for the seeding (lxv. 10), the
sower going on his way weeping, as he beareth the
precious seed, and the reaper returning with joy,
bringing his sheaves with him (cxxvi. 5!), the valleys
and the hill-tops ' covered with corn ' (lxv. 13 ;
Ixxii. 16), the pastures also warmly ' clothed with
flocks ' (lxv. 13), the dew of Hermon descending in
fresh glory to bless the thirsty ground (cxxxiii. 3),
the springs that send their waters through the
valleys, and into the desert places, to give drink to
every beast of the field, and to change the deserts
into fruitful pasture-grounds (civ. iof. ; cxxvi. 4),
the snow that enwraps the earth like soft, warm
' wool,' and the hoar frost scattered abroad ' like
ashes ' (cxlvii. 16), the great mountains of Bashan
and Hermon with their snowy summits, the symbols
of eternal might and majesty (Ixviii. 14L ; xc. 2),
or by their cedary slopes suggesting the luxuriance
of blessing that falls to the righteous (xcii. 12),
and the lesser hills pregnant with thoughts of the
good man's security, strength, and peace (cxxi.
iff. ; cxxv. if.). The Psalmists' sympathy with
Nature embraces also the animal life that gladdens
these scenes : the cattle browsing upon a thousand
hills (1. 10), the sheep on the green pastures, or

1 44 The Poets of the Old Testament
resting beside the still waters, or foolishly straying
among the rough places and into the dark valleys,
where danger lurks (xxiii. 2ff.), the hind panting
after the water-brooks (xiii. i), the swallow seeking
a nest where she may lay her young (lxxxiv. 3),
the eagle soaring in renewed strength to the heavens
(ciii. 5), the wild asses quenching their thirst at the
streams along the valleys, the birds singing in the
branches overhead, the wild goats and the conies
among the rocks of the wilderness, the young lions
roaring for their prey, ' seeking their food from
God ' (civ. nff.), the trembling dove (lv. 6), the
poor captive escaped from the snare of the fowlers
(cxxiv. 7), even the pelican of the wilderness, the
owl of the waste places, and the lonely sparrow on
the housetop (cii. 6f.). They feel the full spell,
too, of the wonders of the heavens and the deep.
The Psalmist ' wakes the morn ' with the joyful
notes of harp and lyre (lvii. 8) ; and the sight of
the sun rising radiant as a bridegroom from his
wedding canopy, and pressing forward with the
eager delight of a strong man to run a race (xix. 5),
moves him to strains of rapt devotion. And at
night-fall, as he gazes on ' the work of God's fingers —
the moon and the stars which He has established '
in the heavens, he sinks his head in wondering
adoration, feeling how ' resplendent ' is God's name
in all the earth (viii. 3ff.). The same reverent joy

The Glory of God in Nature 145
in presence of the mighty works of God — a feeling
which meets us in such purity nowhere else in
ancient literature — moves the poets of Israel amid
the raging of the storm, when the Almighty sends
forth His hailstones and ' coals of fire ' to discomfit
the nations (xviii. I2f£.), or by the sounding cata
ract, where ' flood answers to flood in the roar of
God's waterspouts ' (xliii. 7),1 and beside the great
deep, when the abysmal waters ' lift up their voices,'
and seem to bid defiance even to Jahweh's throne
(xciii. 3). But the language of the Psalms nowhere
reaches such heights of natural grandeur as in the
sublime Song of the Thunders (xxix. 3ff.)2 —
Jahweh's voice on the waters !
Thunders the God of glory.

1 The scene of the Psalm is placed at the sources of the Jordan,
where, in the spring-time, after the melting of the snows of Her
mon, the high cliff of Paneas becomes a mass of foaming cascades,
and the river bursts ' full-born ' from the base, the whole scene
' a very sanctuary of waters ' (G. A. Smith, Historical Geography
of the Holy Land, p. 474).
2 Various poetical storm-pieces have come down from Oriental
antiquity, the most justly celebrated being the description of the
oncoming flood in the second Deluge-Tablet, and Imru'1-Kais'
brilliant picture of the lightning at the close of his Mu'allaka —
' Friend, thou seest the Ughtning. Mark where it wavereth,
Gleameth Uke fingers twisted, clasped in the cloud-rivers.
Like a lamp new-lighted, so is the flash of it,
Trimmed by a hermit nightly pouring oil-sesame,' etc.
(Blunt' s translation).
But neither of these leads us so truly into the living spirit of the
Storm as the swift, crashing strokes of the Hebrew Psalm. io

146 The Poets of the Old Testament
Jahweh's voice on the mighty waters, —
Jahweh's voice in strength, Jahweh's voice in majesty I
Jahweh's voice shatters the cedars,
Jahweh shatters the cedars of Lebanon.
He makes Lebanon skip like a calf,
And Sirion as a young wild-ox.
Jahweh's voice cleaveth the rocks,
Jahweh cleaves them with blade of fire.1
Jahweh's voice lasheth the desert,
Jahweh lasheth the desert of Kadesh.
Jahweh's voice shivers the oaks,2
Jahweh's voice strippeth the forests.
In this reverent feeling for Nature's sublimer
moods we touch a chord that is almost modern.
The Hebrew poets anticipate the deeper thought
of the present likewise in their sense of a universal
life pulsing through the heart of Nature. In the
poetry of the Old Testament there are but faint
traces of the mythological view which vivifies
Nature, indeed, by its Divine fellowship of nymphs
and graces, and gods of the woods and mountains
and storms, but really robs her of her own essential
life by transmitting her powers to these Beings
that haunt her presence. To the Psalmists Nature
throbbed with life and feeling. There was a spirit
1 The verse in the Hebrew is unduly shortened, and the sense
thus rendered dubious. I have followed Duhm in supplying
' rocks ' as the object. The Ughtning is thus finely introduced
as the ' blade of fire ' wielded by the Thunderer.
2 Read ni?'8, terebinths, for IWJS, hinds, to secure a true
paralleUsm,

The Glory of God in Nature 147
in Nature that linked her close with humanity. In
true brotherly sympathy with Nature — a sympathy
that remained almost sealed to poetry till the child
like heart of Blake opened once more the flood
gates of " innocent ' imagination 1 — they pictured
the pasture-grounds in the valleys ' shouting and
singing ' at the crowning of the year with God's
goodness (lxv. 13), the heavens glad, and the earth
rejoicing, the sea and all its fullness ' roaring ' in
joy, the fields and their increase ' exulting,' the
trees of the wood ' pealing forth their notes of glad
ness ' (xcvi. nf.), the floods ' clapping their hands,'
and the hills ' ringing out their joyful songs to
gether ' before Jahweh, when He came to judge
the earth (xcviii. 8f.), the very mountains ' skipping
like rams ' and the hills ' like young sheep ' in
presence of His mighty works for Israel (cxiv. 4ff.).
Thus Nature on her part also can enter into
spiritual sympathy with man. The Psalmists see
the reflexion of their own changing moods in Nature.
The ringing shouts of the pastures, hills and floods
are heard only when the poet himself is filled with
the gladness of the Lord. When the dark clouds

1 'When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by ;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it,' etc.
Laughing Song.

148 The Poets of the Old Testament
sweep over his head, and sorrows surge within him,
Nature wears a different garb. The plaint of the
desolate exile, torn from the sanctuary round which
all his affections twine, and feeling the taunt of his
enemies ' like a sword in his bones,' comes fittingly
from ' the land of the Hermons,' where the cataracts
of the Jordan appear like the ' waves and billows '
of God's affliction that unceasingly ' pour over
him ' (xiii. 8f .) . And if the gently flowing waters
of Siloah harmonize with the peace of the hearts
whose trust is in Jahweh (xlvi. 4), the canals of
Babylon, with their stagnant waters banked by
long rows of weeping willows, seem to sympathize
no less deeply with their aching despair (cxxxvii.
iff.). This harmony of Nature and the human spirit
reaches its fullest expression in the worship of God.
Nature is but a humbler brother of man. For
Jahweh is the common Father of both. It was
He that in the beginning ' threw light as a garment
around Him,' and ' stretched out the heavens as a
curtain,' He that ' laid the foundations of the earth,'
and ' covered it with the deep as a vesture,' He
that called forth the mountains, and ' watered
them from His chambers ' in heaven, making
grass to grow for the cattle,
And herb for the service of man ;
Causing bread to spring from the earth,
And wine to gladden man's heart ;

The Glory of God in Nature 149
Oil that his face may shine,
And bread to strengthen his soul (civ. 2ff.).
It is Jahweh, too, that daily upholds the world,
and guides the course of Nature. Thus all things
unite in the song of Praise : the sun and moon and
stars, the darkness and the light (xviii. 7ff.), the
thunder and lightning (xxix.), the mountains and
the great deep (xxxvi. 6), the ' portals of morning
and evening,' and the whole glad life of spring
time (lxv. 8ff.), the sea and its fullness, the field
' and all that is therein,' with ' all the trees of the
wood ' (xcvi. nf.), ' the multitude of the isles '
(xcvii. i), the floods and the hills (xcviii. 8), all
lands and their peoples (c. iff.), with the angelic
hosts in heaven (cxlviii. 2). As it draws to a close
the Psalter calls for a full diapason of Praise : —
Praise Jahweh !
Praise Jahweh from the heavens,
Praise Him in the heights I
Praise Him, all His angels,
Praise Him, all His hosts !
Praise Him, sun and moon,
Praise Him, stars of light!
Praise Him, heaven of heavens,
And waters above the heavens !
Let them praise the name of Jahweh,
For He spake, and they were fashioned.
He established them ever and for ever,
He set them bounds they should pass not.
Praise Jahweh from the earth,
Sea-dragons and all deeps I

150 The Poets of the Old Testament
Fire, hail, snow and ice,1
The storm-wind fulfilling His word !
Ye mountains, and all hills,
Fruit-trees, and cedars all !
Wild beasts, and all cattle,
Creeping things, and birds of wing!
Kings of the earth, and all peoples,
Princes, and judges all I
Young men and maidens too,
Old men and boys !
Let them praise the name of Jahweh,
For His name alone is exalted.
O'er heaven and earth is His glory,
His praise is for all His saints 2 (Ps. cxlviii.).
Thus the crowning glory of Nature is to
radiate the light of the Eternal. To the Hebrews
the face of Nature interposed no veil between the
countenance of God and the hearts of those who
sought Him. It was rather a shining mirror in
which they could trace the very features of the
Divine. On the open face of the starry skies the
poet saw how ' resplendent ' was the name of the
God he worshipped (viii. iff.). For him, too, the
morning heavens daily ' recounted ' the tale of
God's glory. Day ' bubbled over with speech '
while it passed on the legend to the day succeeding,
night also repeating the wondrous tidings to its
1 For -liD'p read mi? (with LXX).
2 The superfluous words which confine the Song to Israel are
doubtless appended for Uturgical purposes.

The Glory of God in Nature 151
daughter night. And, though they uttered ' no
speech and no words, no voice that was heard,'
Through all the earth went their voice,
And their words to the end of the world (xix. if.).
To the simple heart the majesty of the heavens
spoke of God's eternal, immeasurable love, as the
mountains and the depths proclaimed His righteous
ness (xxxvi. 5ff.). Even the thunders raised men's
thoughts to His surpassing glory ; for the roaring
of the thunder was ' Jahweh's voice,' and the light
nings were His fiery arrows for the discomfiture of
the wicked. Thus in the ears of the Hebrew poet
the noise of the storm blended harmoniously with
the song of the angels who in heaven ascribed unto
Jahweh ' glory and honour,' and equally with
the prayers of the saints who in the temple below
sought the blessings of strength and peace for His
people (xxix. iff.).1 For him who had eyes to see
the vision of God's glory, the whole earth was
' full of the love of Jahweh ' (xxxiii. 5). He knew
1 Here again Blake has looked out upon the Universe with
essentially the same feeUngs as the Psalmist. ' I assert for my
self that I do not behold the outward creation, and that to me it
is hindrance, and not action. " What ! " it will be questioned,
" when the sun rises, do you not see a round disk of fire somewhat
Uke a guinea ? " Oh ! no, no ! I see an innumerable com
pany of the heavenly host, crying, " Holy, holy, holy is the Lord
God Almighty!" I question not my corporeal eye, any more
than I would question a window concerning a sight. I look
through it, and not with it.'— A Vision of the Last Judgment.

152 The Poets of the Old Testament
that the Mighty One who had made all these things
had His eyes fixed on those that feared Him, to
save them from evil, and bless them with goodness
all the days of their life. The glad spring season
was especially associated with thoughts of the good
ness of Jahweh ; for He it was that then ' visited
the earth, and watered it ' with rain from ' the
river of God, which is full of water,' He that prepared
the ridges, and blessed the fertile soil with abundance
of corn, He whose footsteps ' dripped fatness '
wherever He trod (lxv. gff.). Even when the floods
raised their voices in wrath, the good man kept his
soul in peace. For God's throne was established
above the seas ; His commanding voice rose clear
above the tumult of the waters (xciii. 3L). In His
hand all things were held under firm control
(xcv. 4ff.). Therefore His people might raise their
•new songs' of joy and confidence even in the
darkest hour (xcvi., xcvii., etc.). For God's power
and goodness were higher even than the heavens,
— His love was eternal and abiding as Himself.
Of old hast Thou founded the earth,
And the heavens are the work of Thy hands.
They shall perish, but Thou shalt abide ;
As a garment shall all of them fade.
They shall change as a robe that Thou changest ;
But Thou art the same, and Thy years have no end
(cii. 2Sff.).

CHAPTER IX
The Image of God in Man
It has been seen how nearly akin Nature is to human
life. God is the common Author of their being, and
His glory shines through both spheres. Yet man
is far the greatest work of God. In the cosmologies
of Genesis he is created last of all things. God's
tenderest care is centred on him. The breath of
God is breathed into his nostrils, and he becomes a
living person after the image of God Himself, and
capable of enjoying a life of intimate friendship
with the Divine. The eighth Psalm is the poetical
counterpart of these cosmologies. The language
shows clear marks of dependence on Gen. i. But
the whole feeling of the Psalm is poetic. The author
builds up no systematic conception of human nature.
His thought of man's exalted dignity is the precipi
tate of a dazzling impression of God's glory m Nature.
He looks up to the starry skies, and is moved with
holy awe as he sees the ' splendour ' of the Divine
name mirrored over the face of the heavens. In a
sudden shock of reaction he feels how mean and
153

154 The Poets of the Old Testament
frail human nature is, compared with the Divine
glory of moon and stars.
When I see the work of Thy fingers,
Moon and stars that Thou hast established,
What is man that Thou thinkest of him,
Or man's son, that Thou visitest him ? 1
Yet human nature asserts its Godlike dignity against
the first humbling impression of its meanness. The
wonder is, not that man is so frail a being, but that,
in spite of his frailty and lowliness, God has been
mindful of him, and visited him in His love and
goodness ; that God has made him but little lower
than Himself, and crowned him with His own Divine
glory and majesty, giving him dominion over all
His works. Thou hast made him but lower than God,
With glory and honour hast crowned him ;
O'er the work of Thy hands Thou hast placed him,
Put all things under his feet.
The sheep and the oxen, all of them,
Likewise the beasts of the field ;
The birds, and the fish of the sea,
All that pass through the paths of the water.
And now with far richer tones the poet sings anew
the opening strain : —
Jahweh, our Lord, how resplendent
Thy name in all the earth !
Thus, to the Psalmist also, man is essentially the
1 In the first stichos of the verse omit the superfluous and un-
metrical *pO{5>. The word for ' man ' in the third stichos is EM3K
implying weakness, etc.

The Image of God in Man 155
friend of the living God, who reacheshis true perfec
tion only in the conscious enjoyment of this friend
ship. The same ideal is upheld through the Psalms
in various other images. Man is the ger or ' guest '
of- Jahweh, whose privilege it is to live near His
presence (xv. 1), one of Jahweh's sheep, whom the
good Shepherd desires to lead in the ways of right
and truth (xxiii. iff.), a child of the everlasting
Father, on whom He lavishes His love and pity (ciii.
13). The supreme moments in his life, then, are
those in which he enjoys most fully the sense of the
Father's nearness and love. To the ancient Hebrews
God drew closest in the Temple, the home He had
chosen for His own, and to which He invited the
approaches of His faithful people. And, all along,
the Temple remained the centre of their deepest
affections and desires. The one thing they ' sought
after ' was To gaze on the beauty of Jahweh,
And delight in His temple (xxvii. 4).
The crowning sorrow of the Exile was that they
could no longer go with the joyful throngs to keep
holy-day in the house of God. From the distant
lands of their wandering many a thirsty soul ' panted
after the living God,' as ' the hind after the water-
brooks,' praying to God to send them ' His light
and His truth,' to guide them back to His holy hill,
where His dwellings were, that once more they might

156 The Poets ofthe Old Testament
visit the altar of God, ' the God of their joy,' and
praise Him with song and harp, as in days of yore
(xiii., xliii.). When Jahweh at length ' restored the
captives of Zion,' their chief delight was to see the
Temple rebuilt in its beauty, the earthly focus of
their worship and aspirations. A swelling note of
gladness rings through the ' new songs ' of Restora
tion. And this joy was shared by the ' sons of
Israel ' throughout the land. From their village
homes they thought with tender affection of the
Temple of the Lord in Zion. The true home of
their spirits, they felt, was there. As the birds had
their nests, so had the people of Jahweh their
spiritual resting-place around the altars of their
God. How happy the lot of those who passed all
their days in His house, ever praising Him, and
worshipping at His altars ! How happy, too, the
pilgrim bands that enjoyed but one day in the courts
of Jahweh ! The very march to Zion was a con
stant renewal of strength. With the thought of their
pilgrimage at heart, the valleys of weeping became
places of springs, and the desert lands were gladdened
with pools. And the day they spent in Jahweh's
courts was better than a thousand common days.
For then they looked on Jahweh's face, and saw, if
for a moment only, the glory of the Eternal.
How dear is Thy dwelling-place,
Jahweh of hosts I

The Image of God in Man 157
My soul longeth, yea, fainteth
For Jahweh's courts ;
My heart and my flesh cry out
For the living God.
Even the sparrow hath found an house.
And the swallow a nest,
Where she maketh a home for herself,
And layeth her young.
My home is by Jahweh's altars,
My King and my God.1
Happy they that dwell in Thy house !
Ever they praise Thee.
Happy the man whom Thou strengthenst,
In whose heart are the pilgrim-ways !
Passing through Baca's valley,
He makes it a well-head.
With pools,2 too, the early rain
Covers the desert.
So march they from strength to strength,
They see God in Zion.
O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer.
Give ear, God of Jacob I
Jahweh, look on our Shield,3
Behold our Anointed !
Better a day in Thy courts
Than a thousand without,* — ¦
To keep threshold in Jahweh's house,
Than dwell with the wicked.
1 There is evidently a hiatus in the Hebrew text. The point
of comparison is in the idea of home. In the translation this
idea has been filled in.
2 For n'13'13, blessings, read ni3"13, pools.
3 The ' shield ' is clearly parallel with ' anointed,' referring to
the king, actual or ideal.
* I have followed Bickell tin reading p-ICQ for 'Fl"!0?, and at
taching the word to the clause preceding. This gives us a better
sense, besides making the two lines normal.

158 The Poets of the Old Testament
For Jahweh's a Sun and Shield ;
Grace and glory He gives.
No good thing does He withhold
From them that walk upright.
0 Jahweh of hosts I
Happy the man that trusteth in Thee I (Ps. lxxxiv.).
But the presence of God was not confined to the
Temple. Through the teaching of the prophets
Israel had learned that He dwelt also with the pure
and humble in heart. And the Psalms are full of
this thought. The worship of the Temple was itself
valuable only as it expressed the heart-felt gratitude
and aspirations of the worshipper, and lifted him
beyond the outward rites to the living presence of
his God. The devout spirit delighted in the Temple
because there he saw 'the face of God.' But the
vision of God came likewise in the open courts of
Nature, and in man's own heart and conscience.
God was at all times near to those who loved Him.
He stood ' at their right hand,' ready to help and
save them ; His eyes were ever bent upon them in
tender love and mercy, and His ears lay open to
their cry. They too ' abode before God for ever '
(Ixi. 7), their eyes upturned to Him ' as the eyes of
servants to the hand of their master ' (cxxiii. 2) .
They were admitted even to ' the secret place ' of
the Most High, to share His deepest intimacies
(xxv. 14; xci. 1). In a few Psalms there is found
a real prophetic depreciation of ritual, The Lord

The Image of God in Man 159
God desires not sacrifice or offering, but thanksgiv
ing, obedience, sincerity, contrition, and prayer (xl.
6ff. ; 1. 8ff. ; li. i6f.). For the soul of worship—
the heart and life of religion — is prayer — the com
munion of the living spirit of man with the God
who is spirit and truth.
The uplift of the heart to God is in deep reverence.
For God is Holy, and the best of men are weak and
sinful in His sight. Thus the attitude of ' fear '
becomes the servant of God. That indeed which
primarily distinguishes the good man from the
wicked is ' the fear of God before his eyes ' (xxxvi.
1). But in the Psalms fear blends with perfect con
fidence, love and joy. There is nothing here of that
sombre gravity and sourness of spirit which good
Christian people have often associated with piety.
The Psalter rings throughout with the notes of
triumphant gladness. Not alone amid the festal
delights of worship, but in the home, and in the in
most sanctuary of the heart, Jahweh poured joy
upon His people, ' more than that for the increase of
corn and wine ' (iv. 7). His love filled the whole
round of life with gladness. Even His fear was
the good man's delight (i. 2).1
And this joy in God is anything but evanescent
emotion. The man whose delight was in the fear
1 To avoid the double fllW, most modern scholars read "> n^.?,
his delight is in the fear ol Jahweh,

160 The Poets of the Old Testament
of Jahweh likewise ' pored over His law ' — His
revealed will and purpose — ' both day and night '
(i. 2), that He might learn His precepts, and become
more like Him in spirit. For God's desire was that
His people should be moulded into His perfect
image. The Psalmists shrink not from investing
the good man with God's own attributes. The
crowning ' glory and honour ' that God has lavished
on His children are found in moral personality.
Thus the traits of the good man's character are a
real transcript of God's. The root of his goodness,
too, is ' truth in the inward parts ' (li. 6), loyalty of
heart and soul to what is noble and right. And
in man also truth finds its fruitage in righteousness
and love. The good man directs his steps on the
straight, plain paths of honour and rectitude. ' He
walketh uprightly, and worketh right, and speaketh
the truth in his heart ' (xv. 2). Like the Lord he
serves, he is ' perfect ' in thought and deed (xviii.
23 ; ci. 2ff., etc.). His hands are clean, and his
heart is pure, set not on vanities, but on real worth
and goodness (xxiv. 4). But above all he is gracious
and loving. The Hebrew counterpart to the Greek
ideal of 6 /ra\o? Kayados, the finely polished gentle
man, is hdsid, the adjective derived from fyesed,
' love,' that is, the man of love. As God is love,
the good man is likewise a lover both of God and of
his fellow-men. His love is, indeed, the pure reflec

The Image of God in Man 161
tion of God's — tender and true and active as His is.
For in no other ancient religion are the fear and love
of God so indissolubly wedded to moral conduct,
and the thoughts and ways of God so consciously
made the pattern of His children's character. Yet
nowhere is morality brought more closely to the
touchstone of common life than in this same faith.
The goodness of Jahweh's people is manifested not in
the clouds, nor in some distant Utopia, but on the
common paths of daily life, in their varied relations
as friends and neighbours and business men. He
alone is admitted to be Jahweh's ger, His guest
or friend — to sojourn in His tent, and enjoy His
intimacies and affection — who
doeth no ill to his fellow,
Nor lifteth reproach 'gainst his neighbour ;
In whose eyes the vile are despised,
But the fearers of Jahweh he honours ;
He that swears to his hurt, and will change not,
And puts not his money to usury (xv. 3ff.).
The wicked man was full of deceit and cruelty, his
heart hardened against the poor, his bowels of com
passion shut upon the needy and suffering, even upon
the friend who had rendered him sympathy and
kindness, but was now fallen on evil days. The
righteous was true and kind and charitable to all.
In perfect sincerity of heart, he dealt honestly in
the law-courts and the market. He was the con
stant friend of the poor, gracious in word, and will-

1 6 2 The Poets of the Old Testament
ing to lend in times of need (xxxvii. 21 ; xii. 1, etc.).
With his neighbours in their trouble he was a true
sympathizer. In their sickness I clothed me with sackcloth,
Afflicting my soul ;
I prayed with my head in my bosom,
As 'twere for a brother ;
Downcast I walked in weeds,
As though mourning a mother (xxxv. I3f.).
The Psalmists' moral horizon is, no doubt, bounded
mainly by the narrow limits of their people, or even
the immediate circle of the righteous. And too
many expressions of savage hatred and malice, and
relentless vengeance against the enemy, escape the
barrier of their lips. But there is found an approach,
at least, to the Christian principle of love. For,
while the wicked returned evil for good, the friend
of God could raise his hands to heaven, and protest :
If ill I have done to my friend.
Or have injured my foe without cause,1
Let the oppressor pursue my soul,
Catch me up, crush my life to the ground.
And my glory lay low in the dust! (vii. 4I).
This elevation of human life to the spiritual plane
where God reigned in righteousness imparted to it
a wonderful freedom and peace. The secret of
Jahweh was with them that feared Him ; thus their
1 For the meaningless nypn^J read nvn?81, with the Peshitta
and Targums. The closing word Dj3 H, without cause, is connected
with 'T11V, If I have injured one that without cause was my foe, etc.

The Image of God in Man 163
soul could ' dwell at ease,' delivered from all other
fears (xxv. 13). The good man knew that his times
were in God's hand (xxxi. 15) ; therefore, even when
wicked men pursued him, and seemed to hold his
life in their hands, he could lay him down and sleep,
for Jahweh made him to dwell in safety (iv. 8, etc.) .
In the midst Of straits and dangers he yet felt that
Jahweh had ' set his feet in a large place ' (xxxi. 8) .
In darkness he looked to God, and was ' lightened,'
and his face was no more put to the blush (xxxiv. 5) .
His burdens he cast on Jahweh, and found himself
'sustained' and kept from stumbling (lv. 22).
From the worship of the sanctuary he returned with
God's blessing in his heart, assured of acceptance
(xxiv. 5). And the Law that in after days, when
its real spirit had fled, proved so grievous a burden
to earnest souls, was for him a very well-spring of
refreshment and delight.
The law of the Lord is perfect.
Refreshing the soul ;
The testimony of the Lord is sure,
Making wise the simple.
The precepts of the Lord are right,
Rejoicing the heart ;
The commandment of the Lord is pure,
Enlightening the eyes.
The fear of the Lord is clean,
Enduring for ever ;
The judgments of the Lord are truth,
They are righteous altogether, —

164 The Poets of the Old Testament
More to be desired than gold,
Yea, than much fine gold ;
Sweeter also than honey,
Even the droppings ofthe comb (xix. 7ff.).
The one hundred and nineteenth Psalm is one long
song of joy in the Law — celebrating the perfect bliss
and enlargement of heart of those who keep it in
sincerity. O happy they that are perfect in the way.
That walk in the law of the Lord ;
Happy they that keep His testimonies,
That seek Him with all their heart I (vv. if.).
For not merely are they preserved from evil ways,
but they find in the Law a delight which ' all riches
cannot give ' (vv. 14, 16, 24, etc.). With His precepts
in their heart, the servants of God reach their true
spiritual freedom.
I shall walk in a broad place ;
For I have sought Thy precepts (v. 45).
The word of the Lord is their comfort in affliction,
their trust in the day of the wicked's triumph, their
song in the house of their sojourning (vv. 49ft.) .
His law is their enduring peace and security.
Great peace have they that love Thy law ;
For them there is no stumbling (v. 165).
This inward freedom and security are reflected
in the good man's outward life. For it was the car
dinal postulate of Israel's creed that goodness was
the pathway to happiness and prosperity.

The Image of God in Man 165
Who is the man that delighteth in life,
That loveth long days, to see good fortune ?
Hold then thy tongue from evil,
And thy lips from speaking deceit.
Depart from evil, and do what is good ;
Seek peace, and pursue it (xxxiv. i2ff.).
The Psalmists draw charming pictures of the pros
perity of the good. The Book opens with the excla
mation of wondering joy, ' O the bliss of the man
. . . whose delight is in the fear of the Lord ' (i. if.),
and likens him to the tree planted by streams of
water, that yieldeth its fruit in season, and whose
leaf doth not fade. And the whole tenor of the
Psalter is in harmony with this note of joy. The
man who doeth God's will shall never be moved (xv.
5), nor ever left in want.
I have been young, and now am old,
But have not seen the righteous man forsaken (xxxvii. 25) .
In days of famine and pestilence a thousand might
fall by his side, and ten thousand at his right hand ;
but no trouble should strike on him, nor plague come
near his tent: for Jahweh would give His angels
charge over him, to keep him in all his ways (xci.
5ff.). The home of the good man was a true sanc
tuary of the Divine love and blessing. In joy of
heart he ate of the labour of his hands, and saw
around his table sons and daughters clustering like
young olive plants (cxxviii. 2f.). With his brethren,
too, he dwelt in the happiest harmony and affection

1 66 The Poets of the Old Testament
(cxxxiii. iff.). Thus to old age he experienced
' fullness of joy,' until in the ripe maturity of life he
was gathered in peace to his fathers, feeling that
God's goodness and love had indeed pursued him
' all the days of his life.' And though he dared not
yet hope for personal immortality, his seed continued
to inherit the land, and his name was had ' in ever
lasting remembrance,' a glory and blessing to all
who came after him (xxv. 13 ; Ixix. 36 ; cii. 28 ; cxii.
6, etc.).

CHAPTER X
Life and Immortality
In the pictures just drawn of the good man
and his blessedness, there is a certain youthful
naivete. It is obvious that the Psalmists include
themselves among the ' perfect ' men who walk be
fore Jahweh in integrity. Their assertions of inno
cence sometimes even startle us by their boldness.
But there is nothing as yet resembling the self-
righteousness of the Pharisee who thanked God he
was not as other men. The conscience of the Psalm
ists was simple and transparent, their hearts open
and guileless as those of little children, who sincerely
love the Lord their God, without any deep convic
tion of sin and redeeming grace. Their world, too,
was like that of children, to whose eyes all things
are painted in golden glory, and for whom the Father
in heaven dispenses goodness and mercy in the way
they wish and ask.
In two different ways this child-like confidence is
broken through. And the Psalmists thereby rise
to nobler thoughts of the Divine love, and wider
visions also of man's immortal destiny.
167

1 68 The Poets of the Old Testament
The one shock came from the awakening sense of
sin. In their exposure of the hidden canker of evil,
the Penitential Psalms of the Old Testament cut
deeper into the heart than even the most piercing
religious poetry of other nations.1 But from their
very depths they soar to regions of spiritual rapture
undreamt of by more tranquil faith.
The first great utterance of sinful conscience is
found in Psalm xxxii. The poet has fallen into
gross sin. And at once his joyful friendship with
God passes into dark distrust and shrinking dread.
For a while he seeks to bury his sin in silence. But
the voice of God in conscience goads him almost to
madness. All this time, too, God's hand lies heavy
on him through a feverish sickness that changes
the fresh, sweet sap of life into burning drought
and pain.
While I kept silence, my bones did moulder
Through my groaning all day long ;
For day and night Thy hand was heavy upon me ;
My moisture was turned into summer's drought (vv. 3f.).
In his anguish he was moved to confess his sin ;
and at the first stirrings of his better self, when he
had now resolved to lay bare his heart, but the words
1 These Psalms have often been compared with the Penitential
Hymns of Babylonia. But even in the most spiritual prayers
of Babylonian poets the sense of guilt is inspired not by the ethical
struggle for a purer life, but by the presence of misfortunes attri
buted to the anger of the gods.

Life and Immortality 169
were as yet hardly on his lips, the dry fevered frame
was bathed in a sudden inrush of joyous feeling —
the sweet bliss of forgiveness.
My sin I acknowledged to Thee,
And my guilt I covered no more.
I said, I'll make known my transgression to Jahweh ;
And Thou didst remove the guilt of my sin (v. 5).
Thus the Psalmist learned that God's love was re
vealed in its boundless perfection through the very
sins and failures of His children. And the Psalm
opens and ends in bursts of triumphal music : —
O happy the man whose transgression is removed,
Whose sin is covered !
Happy the man against whom Jahweh reckons no guilt,1
In whose spirit is no deceit.
* * * *
To the wicked are many sorrows ;
But he that trusteth in Jahweh — love shall encompass him round.
Rejoice then in Jahweh ; exult, ye righteous ;
And sing loud for joy, all ye that are upright of heart !
In that most searching of all the Psalms of peni
tence (Ps. Ii.) still deeper notes are sounded. The
Psalmist has sinned almost beyond redemption.
And, however he may try to shut his eyes to his sin,
it stares him ever in the face, haunting him sleeping
1 Of the three terms here used for ' sin,' VB'S, transgression,
isUterally 'rebelhon.TIKtDn, sin, ' a missing of the way,' and jiy
guilt, 'perversion of the heart' (from right). In like manner,
the three words for 'forgiveness,' KKO, nP3,and 3B>IV"iO, imply
severally the lifting of a burden, the covering over of uncleanness
and the wiping out of a debt from the ledger.

170 The Poets of the Old Testament
and waking. So thoroughly has the poison of sin
infected his being that he feels himself soaked in
sin from his very conception. There is no hope
for restoration save in the love and compassion of
the God against whom alone he has sinned. And
the Psalm is one unwearying prayer for forgiveness,
cleansing, and newness of life. We hear not yet
the major tones of Ps. xxxii. The Psalmist is still
struggling through the depths of contrition. But he
has a richer sense of all that forgiveness implies
than even his brother poet.
Purge me with hyssop, that I may be clean ;
Wash me, that I may be whiter than snow !
Make me to hear gladness and joy,
That the bones Thou hast crushed may exult I
Hide Thy face from my sins,
And blot out all mine iniquities.
Create me a clean heart, O God ;
And a stedfast spirit within me renew.
Cast me not off from Thy face,
And Thy holy spirit remove not from me.
Restore me the joy of Thy salvation ;
And with a willing spirit sustain Thou me.
So shall I teach transgressors Thy way,
And sinners shall turn unto Thee.
From bloodshed, O God, do Thou save me,'
That my tongue may ring out Thy righteousness.
O Lord, open Thou my lips,
That my mouth may declare Thy praise !
For no delight dost Thou take in sacrifice ;
Should I give Thee burnt-offering. Thou would'st not accept it.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
The contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise (vv. ?&.).
But actual lapse into sin was not the only experi-

Life and Immortality 171
ence that awakened the consciousness of sin. It is
usually the best of men who feel themselves ' the
chief of sinners.' With the growing vision of God's
infinite holiness, their knowledge of their own weak
and erring natures is deepened, and they become
continually more sensitive to the ' plague of their
hearts.' Thus the very Law that was so rich a foun
tain of delight and quickening of life proved from
another side the revelation of sin. As pure sunshine
throws the darkness into blacker relief, the clear
radiance of God's law exposed the ' hidden faults ' of
the soul, and unveiled the full enormity of the ' pre
sumptuous ' or ' swelling ' sins of the proud (xix. I2f .).
Thus also in Ps. xxv., the quiet meditations of a
trustful spirit, the glad notes of steadfast faith and
integrity are blended in minor harmony with the
accents of humble confession and entreaty.
Remember Thy mercies, O Lord,
Thy loving deeds from of old.
Recall not the sins of my youth ;
But after Thy love do Thou think of me.
Good and upright is Jahweh ;
He will teach sinners the way.
The meek will He lead aright.
And the humble instruct in His way.
All His paths are love and truth,
If men keep His precepts and covenant.
For Thine own name's sake, O Jahweh,
Pardon my guilt, for 'tis great I (vv. 6ff.).
The same reaction of quickened knowledge upon the

172 The Poets of the Old Testament
sensitive conscience is felt in the noble Psalm of
God's Eternal Presence (xc), where over against His
exalted, everlasting holiness are set the shortness
and frailties of human life.
For we are consumed in Thine anger,
We are benumbed in Thy wrath ;
Thou hast placed our iniquities before Thee,
Our secret sins in the light of Thy face (v. ji.).
But the Psalm ends not in minor thoughts like these.
Here, too, we may miss the note of triumph that
breaks through the anguish of Ps. xxxii. But the
Psalmist knows that the Eternal God is Love, and
though meantime he is oppressed by the sense of
man's weakness, sin and mortality, he feels that
God will yet scatter the shadows, and make His
light shine full upon His servants' faces.
Return, Jahweh I How long ?
And repent Thee concerning Thy servants.
Satisfy us early with Thy love,
That we may sing, and be glad all our days.
Make us glad by the days Thou hast humbled us,
And the years in which ill we have seen.
Let Thy work be seen of Thy servants,
And Thy glory shine out on their children.
Let the sweetness of Jahweh brood o'er us ;
And establish the work of our hands (vv. 13ft.).
If the conflict of conscience with the torturing
sense of sin and guilt thus raised the Psalmists above
their old self-confidence to the spacious heavens of a
Father's love, their moral horizon was equally

Life and Immortality 173
widened by fierce struggling with the darker mys
teries of Providence. The fond imaginings of child
ish faith had pictured the moral world as a sunny
Paradise where good men lived and walked together
in perfect honesty and trust, enjoying the favours
of Jahweh in unstinting fullness. But, with the
growing complexity of life, keen questionings op
pressed them. Over against their innocent Paradise
rose the dark realm of evil. If the good man's
delight was in the fear of God, there were wicked
men around them who said in their hearts there was
no God, and pursued their evil purposes irrespective
of moral issues. With no conscience in their breasts
— an ' oracle of wickedness ' whispering evil coun
sels * instead of the sensitive regard to Jahweh's
will that upheld the righteous — and no fear of God
before their eyes, flattering themselves there was
no one to expose and requite their wickedness, they
scorned the paths of wisdom, finding their pleasure
in sinful words and ways, and brooding over their
iniquities even in the watches of the night, on the
bed where the good man thought of God (xxxvi. iff.).
As long as this world of wickedness lay apart from
their sheltered sanctuary, the righteous might com
fort themselves with the assurance that evil would
1 Read, with a few MSS., and the best Versions, I>B>"6 tfg'S-DW
13^ 3'1j33, lit. to the wicked there is an oracle of transgression in
the midst of his heart.

174 The Poets of the Old Testament
not come near to them, and that the wicked them
selves would be scattered as chaff before the right
eous wrath of God. For it was the other side of
that simple confidence which saw the good man
happy and prosperous all his days, that God would
requite the evil with misery and cruel suffering, and
swift, relentless death. But the problem could not
long be warded off. For into the very heart of their
Paradise the besetting foe forced his way, trampling
down the righteous in his malice, and exposing God's
loyal ones to insult, ignominy, and constant op
pression. So completely, indeed, was moral order
subverted that the wicked became the lords of the
world, and the righteous who trusted in God were
known as 'ani or 'dndw, the poor, needy, meek or
humble of the earth. And so far was Jahweh from
helping His suffering saints, that often He seemed
to add to their miseries. As though the oppression
of the wicked were not enough to wring their souls,
He laid His hand in added affliction upon them,
torturing them with cruel sickness and pain. The
problem of righteous men suffering, and the wicked
flourishing ' as a green tree in its native soil ' (xxxvii.
35), was all the harder that no hope shone from the
life beyond. To the Hebrews, as to other ancient
nations, this life was literally a narrow span of light
between two eternities of darkness. For a few short
years they enjoyed the goodness of God in the land

Life and Immortality 175
of the living. Then they were gathered to their
fathers in the dark and dismal land of the dead,
where they spent a dull, joyless, shadowy existence,
not worthy of the name of life. The Shf'ol or Hades
of the Hebrews was a vast darksome pit, in which
rich and poor, wicked and good, were herded to
gether, cut off for ever from the bright, full-blooded
life of this upper sphere, and equally removed from
the thought and the fellowship of God.
In death there is no remembrance of Thee ;
In Sheol who shall give Thee thanks? (vi. 5).
What profit in my blood, when I go down to the pit ?
Shall dust praise Thee ? Can it declare Thy truth ? (xxx . 9) .
Wilt Thou do wonders for the dead ;
Will the shades rise up to praise Thee ?
Shall Thy love be told in the grave,
Or Thy faithfulness in Abaddon ?
Shall Thy wonders be known in the darkness,
A nd Thy righteousness in the land of forgetting ? (lxxxvin. 1 off . ) 1
This absence of eternal hope from the religious
life of Israel is all the more striking as their near
neighbours, the Egyptians, so consciously shaped
1 Various features in the description of Sheol recall Greek con
ceptions of ,the under-world (cf. especially Odysseus' descent to
Hades, Od. xi. iff.). But the nearest analogue is found in the
Babylonian aralld, or higal, the ' house of darkness,' the ' land
without return,' whose inhabitants ' are deprived of Ught,' and
' dwell in dense darkness,' their nourishment dust, and their food
clay — the land so far removed from the power of the heavenly
gods that they must strip themselves of all the emblems of their
godhood before they can enter (cf. Descent of Ishtar, etc.).

176 The Poets of the Old Testament
their conduct by the thought of future bliss and
misery. The deepened religious feeling of the
Greeks and Romans, too, evolved its Elysium and
Tartarus as the eternal dwelling-places of the
righteous and the wicked. But Israel had to learn
the lessons of eternal life first on this earthly plane ;
and only through their victories on the moral battle
fields of the present did they win the prize of
a blessed immortality beyond. And it was mainly
from the conflict with suffering and doubt that the
larger faith was reached.
It was not, however, till every other ground of
hope had failed them that, oppressed and bewildered,
hemmed in by fear and despair on every side, they
raised their eyes above the encircling darkness,
and found God in His heaven — their everlasting
Refuge and Friend.
The first look of harassed saints was backward.
They cried to God in the day-time, but He answered
them not ; in the night season, too, but they found
no respite. In their perplexity, then, they turned
to the past, and recalled how
Our fathers trusted in Thee ;
They trusted, and Thou didst deliver them.
To Thee they cried, and escaped ;
In Thee they trusted, and were not put to shame (xxii. 4f.).
It seemed impossible that the God who had saved
and blessed their fathers should prove false to them-

Life and Immortality 177
selves. Yet the facts belied their faith. The right
eous suffered, while the wicked grew more proud
and insolent day by day, and Jahweh stood afar off,
hiding Himself in the time of trouble (x. iff.). The
poor sufferers next sought salvation in the forward
view. This stage of the conflict is most fully repre
sented in the long acrostic Psalm xxxvii. The
Psalmist had been ' fretting himself because of evil
doers.' But he came to see how foolish this fretting
was. For yet a little while, and the wicked shall not be ;
Thou shalt search his place — he is there no more.
But the meek shall inherit the land,
And delight themselves in abundance of peace.
The wicked man plotteth against the righteous,
And gnasheth upon him with his teeth ;
But the Lord laugheth over him,
For He seeth that his day doth come (vv. ioff.).
Often with his own eyes had the Psalmist seen the
wicked ' uplifting himself in triumph as a cedar of
Lebanon.' But when I passed by, behold, he was not ;
When I sought him, he could not be found (vv. 35f.).
On the other hand, the righteous flourished from
more to more. They might fail, but they could not
be utterly cast down ; for Jahweh upheld them with
His own right hand.
The salvation of the righteous is of Jahweh ;
He is their stronghold in time of trouble.
Jahweh doth help and rescue them ;
He saveth them, since they trust in Him (vv. 391.). 12

178 The Poets of the Old Testament
The Psalmist thus threw the problem forward.
But the doubts continued to return. The tangled
skein of life was not unravelled. The wicked flour
ished to the end. Their outward estate prospered ;
and they seemed to escape the common lot of mor
tals. They had no pains as other men, but were
firm and strong in frame, their eyes standing out with
fatness, and their hearts overflowing with proud
imaginations. At such a sight it was hard to refrain
from bitter thoughts of God and His ways. Why
did He stand off thus ? Why hide His face in such
times of moral disorder ? Why not put forth His
hand, and right His children's wrongs ? But the
heavens above were as brass. Amid such dis
heartening silence there were those who sought to
flee from the trouble. Had they but wings like a
dove, they would fly away, and be at rest in some
distant wilderness, where no one could vex them
more (lv. 6). Others broke into impassioned in
vectives against the wicked. Let God destroy them
for ever, plucking them out of their tent, and uproot
ing them from the land of the living ! (Iii. 5). Let
their eyes be darkened, and their loins smitten with
weakness ; their habitation be desolate, and their
tents forsaken ! (Ixix. 23ff.). Even upon their
innocent children let the curse of God work itself
out in unrelenting fury ! (cix. 8ff.).
But braver spirits fought out the fight, and lifted

Life and Immortality 179
the problem to a region where the troubles melted
away in the eternal sunshine of God's face.
The first ray of immortal hope appears to be met
with in Ps. xvii. The Psalmist here pours out his
soul to God for help against his deadly enemies,
who compass him about like a lion greedy of prey,
and hungry for his life. He has kept stedfastly to
the ways of truth, while they have been travailing
witb evil all their days. Yet he is poor and afflicted,
and they are ' sated with substance ' all their lives
long, and able to leave an abundant portion to their
children (vv. ioff.). But, in a bold leap of faith, the
Psalmist sees all this worldly prosperity counter
balanced by what he shall inherit at the end.
As for me — in righteousness shall I gaze on Thy face ;
I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with Thine image (v. 15).1
The problem is, however, far more seriously
grappled with in Ps. xlix., where the prosperity of
the proud is put forth as a ' riddle ' to be faced and
answered. 1 The ' awaking ' has been interpreted as the mere ' arousing
from sleep ' in the morning (Hengstenberg, Duhm), or as happy
dehverance from the surrounding gloom (Baethgen, Davison,
etc.). But, as the prosperity of the wicked is continued to the
very hour of death, it seems necessary to regard the ' awaking '
as a joyous experience beyond death. Cheyne has related the
thought to the image of 'Lsleep ' in Ps. xc. 5, and taken death itself
as the awaking out of sleep, ' when Ufe's short day is past ' (Comm .
on Psalms, p. 44) . It is easier, however, to find in the context a
bold expectation of awakening from the sleep of death. In
Greek poetry death is often pictured as the ' sister ' of sleep. And

1 80 The Poets of the Old Testament
Hear this, ye peoples all ;
Give ear, ye dwellers on earth —
Sons both of high and low,
Together rich and poor I
My mouth shall utter wisdom.
And the thoughts of my heart be with insight.
While I tune mine ear to a parable,
On my harp give forth a riddle.
Why should I fear in the days of evil,
When my treacherous foes surround me with wrong,
Even such as trust in their riches,
And boast of their plenteous wealth ?
Not one may buy himself free,
Or give God the price of his soul,
That he should live continually,
And never see the pit.
For even wise men die,
With the fool and the brutish together ;
Yea, all of them perish alike,1
And leave their wealth unto others.
Graves are their homes for ever,
Their dwellings from age to age —
Even those who gave their names
To fields for a lasting memorial.2
For man in honour abides not ;
He is like to the beasts that perish.
This is the lot of the proud,
And their end that trust in themselves ;3
Like sheep they are led to Sheol,
And Death shall shepherd them there.
the same idea meets us in Ps. xiu. 3 ; Job iii. 13 ; Matt. ix. 24 ;
John xi. 11.
1 and 2. The text has been slightly expanded, in the interests
of sense and parallelism.
3 I have followed Wellhausen, etc., in reading PlV"iriK, and
have further taken DH'SS reflexively, such as are pleased with
their own mouths (or sayings).

Life and Immortality 181
Straight down shall they go to the grave,
And their form shall be wasted away.1
But God will redeem my soul ;
From the power of Sheol He will take me.2
Fear not, then, though a man groweth rich,
And the pomp of his house be increased ;
For nought will he take in his death,
His pomp will not follow him there.
Though he blessed his soul while he lived,
And praised himself for his well-being,3
He must go to the ranks of his fathers,
Who shall never again see light.
For man in honour abides not ; *
He is like to the beasts that perish'.
A number of recent scholars have found in this
Psalm no more than the hope of long and happy life
for the righteous. But the whole contrast is be
tween the proud rich whose well-being is bound
up with this present world and the good man who
may have little possessions here, but finds a rich
compensation beyond the grave. Elsewhere in
the Psalter immortality is regarded as the full
fruitage of faith. Thus in Ps. xvi. the good man's
fellowship with God is so close and intimate that
he can hardly conceive of its interruption even by
death. 1 In this very difficult passage I have followed Buhl's text (in
Kittel, Biblia Hebraica).
2 On the ' taking ' (to Himself), cf. Gen. v. 24 ; 2 Kings ii. 1,
9f- L
8 Read probably the third sing. fern. FTp*) and "?• the object
being the rich man's 'soul.'
* The refrain should, no doubt, be identical with the preceding
(w. 12).

1 82 The Poets of the Old Testament
The Lord have I set continually before me ;
With Him at my right hand, I shall not be moved.
Therefore my heart is glad, and my reins 1 rejoice ;
My flesh also shall dwell in confidence.
For Thou wilt not leave my soul to Sheol,
Nor suffer Thy saint to see the pit.
Thou wilt show me the pathway of life ;
In Thy presence is fullness of joy,
In Thy right hand there are pleasures for ever (vv. 8ff.).
There is here, indeed, no explicit hope of immortality.
The Psalmist clings rather to the thought that the
greedy maw of Sheol will not open on him pre
maturely. But the very protest against the in
dignity of death led to surer faith in eternal life for
such as walked in friendship with the Eternal God.
This is the note that rings so clearly through the
third of the great problem Psalms (lxxiii.). The
author of this Psalm, too, had his struggle with the
dark question of moral inequalities. So keenly
had it pressed upon him, indeed, that his feet were
almost gone, his steps had well-nigh slipped. It
seemed to him vain to cleanse his heart, and wash
his hands in innocence. For all day long was he
smitten of God, tortured and ' chastened ' every
morning, while those who defied God were fat and
flourishing, their hearts ' always at ease,' as they
increased in riches, and lived in luxury and pride.
As he thus wrestled with his soul, bitter in heart,
1 Read '133, my liver, regarded by the Hebrews as a special
seat of intelligence.

Life and Immortality 183
yet afraid to express his doubts, lest he might
subvert the faith of the simple, he went to the
sanctuary of God, and viewed the problem in the
light of the Eternal. At once, then, his doubts dis
solved. The troubles that vexed him belonged
to the passing present. But God was for ever.
And in Him the Psalmist possessed an abiding Good.
Whatever the inequalities of life,
Yet God is good to the upright,
Our God to the pure in heart (v. i).
With all their firmness of heart and step, the wicked
were set in slippery places ; and in a moment they
would be cast headlong to destruction, and all
their boasted wealth would be powerless to help
them.
But I am continually with Thee ;
Thou hast hold of my right hand.
By Thy counsel dost Thou lead me,
And in after days Thou wilt take me to glory.
Whom have I in heaven but Thee ?
And with Thee I seek no joy on earth.
My heart and my flesh may fail ;
Yet God is my portion for ever.
For, lo I those far from Thee shall perish ;
Thou destroyest all that whore from Thee.
But for me — to be nigh unto God is my good ;
In Jahweh my Lord have I made my refuge (vv. 23ff.).
The glad hope of immortality here rests, not on
speculative arguments from the nature of the soul,
but on the sure ground of religious experience.

184 The Poets of the Old Testament
Immortality is, in fact, a necessary implicate of
personal religion. The man that lives with God is
immortal as He is. Thus again does the Old reach
forward to the New. For Jesus also based immor
tality on faith in the living God, and Himself whom
God had sent. ' God is not the God of the dead,
but of the living ' (Matt. xxii. 32, etc.). ' I am the
resurrection and the life : he that believeth on
Me, though he die, yet shall he live ; and whosoever
liveth and believeth on Me shall never die ' (John
xi. 251.).

CHAPTER XI
The Kingdom of God in the Psalms
The dominant note in religious poetry is personal.
The poet pours forth the rapture or the plaint of
his own soul to God. Yet the individual can
neither live nor die, rejoice nor sorrow, to himself
alone. In our own complex society we are touched
and influenced in innumerable ways by the impact
of the spiritual life around us. The poets of
Israel were still more vitally affected by their en
vironment. In the earlier period the nation was
the real spiritual unit. And, though the individual
emerged to full personal consciousness from the
fiery discipline of the Exile, his spiritual life was
still wrapped up in that of the community. He
shared the same faith and hope as his people. His
heart was upborne on the tide of their joys and
triumphs, and equally sunk to the depths by the
crushing weight of their griefs. Thus in the Psalms
the personal note easily passes to the national.
The two may even blend. As we have seen, it is
often impossible to decide whether the poet's ' I '
186

1 86 The Poets of the Old Testament
relate to his own personal Ego or to the larger
soul of the community. The individual singer has
entered so deeply into the spiritual life of his people
that in what appear to be expressions of the most
intense personal emotion he is really giving utter
ance to the feelings of all.
The two spheres being thus intimately related,
the same moral principles govern the wider life
of the nation as obtain in the individual.
Jahweh sitteth enthroned for ever ;
His seat hath He stablished for judgment.
He shall judge the world in righteousness,
He shall rule the peoples in equity (ix. 71.).
But, though right and judgment are ' the founda
tion of His throne,' His justice is here also tem
pered with mercy. Love and truth ' go before His
face,' as the gracious heralds of His approach
(lxxxix. 14). Therefore
Happy the nation whose God is Jahweh,
The people He chose as His own inheritance (xxxiii. 12).
Happy the people that know the glad sound1
That walk, O Lord, in the light of Thy face (lxxxix. 15).
For all good things shall be theirs. They shall
dwell securely. They shall inherit the earth. Their
horn shall be exalted over their enemies. They
shall trample them down in the day of battle. And
1 W'TIB, the loud shout of triumph, raised by the heralds for
the approach of the King (cf. v. 14).

Kingdom of God in the Psalms 187
within their borders all shall be well. Their sons
shall grow up like fresh plants in the garden of the
Lord, and their daughters shall shine as polished
statues fit for a palace. Their ground also shall
yield its increase. Their barns shall be full. Their
sheep shall bring forth their thousands and ten
thousands. Their oxen shall be laden. And
there shall be no outcry in their streets for famine
or pestilence (cf. Pss. lxv., lxvii., cxliv., etc.).
Although these principles have the widest pos
sible sweep, their special application is to Israel.
Jahweh was the God of Israel. Thus the
blessings of the people whose God was Jahweh
belonged peculiarly to Israel. The Psalms delight
to celebrate the blessedness of Jahweh's people.
They dwell with a tender joy on the beauty of Zion,
which He had chosen as the earthly home of His
glory, so lovely for situation, ' the delight of all the
earth ' (xlviii. 2), the very ' perfection of beauty '
(1. 2), whose stones were precious to her children
even in their ruin (cii. 14). Or, in the proud confi
dence of their trust in Jahweh, they sing aloud of
her impregnable strength in the face of the direst
danger. God is for us a refuge and strength,
An ever present help in troubles.
Thus will we fear not though the earth be upturned,
Though the mountains be sunk in the heart of the seas.

1 88 The Poets of the Old Testament
The waters thereof may roar and foam.
And the mountains quake at the swelling thereof, —
Jahweh of hosts is with us,
Jacob's God is our Fortress high.
A river — its streams make glad the city of God,
Whose dwelling-place there the Almighty hath sanctified.
God is within her : moved shall she never be.
God shall help her when morning dawns.
The nations raged, the kingdoms were moved ;
He uttered His voice, the earth did melt.
Jahweh of hosts is with us,
Jacob's God is our Fortress high.
Come, behold the works of the Lord,
Who stayeth wars to the end of the earth.
He breaketh the bow, and snappeth the spear ;
The chariots of war He burneth with fire.
' Be still, then, and know that I am God ; '
I will rise o'er the nations, I will rise o'er the earth.'
Jahweh of hosts is with us,
Jacob's God is our Fortress high (Ps. xlvi.).
In the shadow of Zion, then, the people of Jahweh
enjoyed abiding security and peace. And over
them God placed kings of David's line, who should
lead them in the sure paths of righteousness and
prosperity. To Israel the king was the earthly
representative of Jahweh Himself — the 'anointed
of the Lord,' with whom the covenant rested genera
tion after generation. For him their tenderest
prayers were offered (xx. 6ff.). In the goodness
with which Jahweh had satisfied his heart they
rejoiced with abounding joy (xxi. iff.). To cele
brate the marriage of the king they raised' their

Kingdom of God in the Psalms 189
sweetest ' love-song ' (xiv.). And they dreamed
their dreams of a righteous people dwelling in un
broken peace and blessing under a long line of
righteous kings, ruling in the name of the good God
of Israel, and extending the sway of righteousness
to the remotest regions of the earth (cf. Pss. xiv.,
Ixxii., lxxxix., igff., etc.),
As the naive self-confidence of the individual
was broken down by the stern experience of life,
this fair ideal of national glory was shattered by
the rude blows of remorseless fate. The course of
Israel's history was by no means the bright un
clouded path of splendour its poets had fondly
dreamt of. There is perhaps no more tragic drama
of real life than the working out of that people's
destiny, through disruption and inward decay,
moral and spiritual corruption, devastation by
foreign invaders, to the last crushing stroke — the
downfall of the city, the humiliating captivity of
the people to a land that was unclean, and the ruin
of the Temple that was the chosen dwelling-place
of their God, and the visible sign of His presence
in their midst.
It is hardly possible for the modern Christian
mind to realize the despair which fell upon the
people when the stunning blow struck them. It
was not merely that the city which was more to
them than their ' chief joy ' lay in ruins, or even

1 90 The Poets of the Old Testament
that the house where they were wont to ' see God's
face ' was now for ever closed against them — but
God Himself seemed to have played them false.
Jahweh was their God, who was morally bound to
save and prosper them. But He had given them
over to the cruel will of their enemies. He had
even abdicated His throne by standing idly still
while the heathen sacked and burned His city and
Temple. It seemed as though Jahweh were power
less to defend His Kingdom against the mightier
gods the nations served. Thus the captives had
no more heart to sing the songs of Jahweh, but,
hanging their harps on the willows, they sat down
and wept in dull stupor of despair by the cheerless
canals of Babylon. Or, goaded by the taunts and
jeers of the triumphant enemy, they turned upon
them in volcanic fury : —
Remember against Edom's children
The day of Jerusalem, —
Those that said, 'Rase it, rase it,
To the very foundation I '
And thou daughter of Babel, that laid her waste ! 1
Happy be he that deals thee
The dole thou hast dealt to us I
Happy he who seizeth and dasheth
Thine infants against the rock ! (cxxxvii. 7ff.).
But at times they raised their reproaches against
God Himself. Their fathers had told them of His
1 I have followed the Jewish Targum and other Versions in
reading rnil^D.

Kingdom of God in the Psalms 191
wondrous works in the days of old, how He had
driven out the nations, and planted His own people
in their goodly inheritance, and defended them
against all their enemies around. But now He
had cast them off, and dishonoured them ; He had
turned their backs to the adversary ; He had given
them up like sheep appointed for meat, and scattered
them among the nations ; He had made them a
reproach to their neighbours, a scorn and derision
to all about them. All this had come upon them ;
yet had they not forgotten Him, or dealt falsely by
His covenant ; their heart had not turned back,
nor their feet swerved from His way. How long,
then, they asked in tones almost of indignation,
how long was He to remain silent while the heathen
trampled upon His heritage ?
Awake, Lord ! Why sleepest Thou ?
Rouse Thee, cast us not off for ever !
Why dost Thou hide Thy face,
And forget our distress and affliction? (xUv. iff.).
The silence of God was so intolerable to many of
His exiled worshippers that they felt they should
like to usurp His place, and themselves execute
judgment on their oppressors. Thus through cer
tain of these Psalms of Jerusalem's agony there
glows a white-hot flame of hatred.
O my God, make them as whirling dust,
As stubble before the wind I

192 The Poets of the Old Testament
Like fire that consumeth the forest,
Or a flame that kindleth the mountains,
Do Thou with Thy whirlwind pursue them,
With Thy hurricane throw them in terror !
Fill Thou their faces with shame,
That they seek Thy name, 0 Lord I
Be they shamed and confounded for ever.
Abashed, and brought to destruction, —
That they learn that Thou, Jahweh, alone
Art Most High over all the earth! (lxxxiii. i3ff.).
These songs of despair and fury have often been
a real stumbling-block to the Christian reader of
the Psalms. They do, indeed, stand self-con
demned before the Master's command to love one's
enemies. Yet , as the burning effusions of sensitive
spirits to whom all that was dearest in life was lost,
and for whom the very foundations of God's throne
were upturned, they are certainly more fitting
than the attitude of callous indifference. Those
patriotic poets of Israel had in their blood the
stuff of which religious heroes are made. Their
passion needed to be controlled, and turned into
purer channels. But such intensity of feeling was
the best proof that the heart still beat true to God
and righteousness.
Thus we find in the Psalms of the Exile other
notes than those of hatred and vengeance. Iri the
' alien land ' the people of Israel began to read
aright the lesson of their history. It was for no
light cause, they saw, God had abandoned them

Kingdom of God in the Psalms 193
to the enemy. In their prosperity they had prided
themselves on their privileges as Jahweh's people.
But they had thought little of the responsibilities
thus laid on them. They spoke of righteousness,
indeed ; but on their lips righteousness was rather
the favour they sought of God than the moral con
duct He expected of them. In this respect they
were no better than their neighbours that knew
not Jahweh ; and they had as yet made no real
effort to make His name known to the nations, and
to show themselves a blessing to all the families of
the earth. But now they came to themselves.
They felt how grievously they and their fathers
had sinned against their God, and how just all His
ways had been. They began to understand, as
well, how very gracious He was, how full of com
passion and forgiveness, and how ready even now
to save and bless them.
O that my people would hear me,
That Israel would walk in my ways !
I should soon subdue their enemies,
And turn my hand on their foes.
Those that hate them would cringe before them,
But their hour should last for ever.
With the fat of the wheat would I feed them,
From the rock would I sate them with honey (lxxxi. i3ff.).
Amid the darkness of the Exile, too, light fell on
the mystery of their sufferings. The great singer
in Deutero-Isaiah had. related the sorrows of Israel
*3

1 94 The Poets of the Old Testament
to the salvation of the world. And the same thought
breaks through the prevailing gloom of Ps. xxii.
All ends of the earth shall bethink them.
And turn unto Jahweh ;
Before Him shall worship
All families of nations ;
For the kingdom is Jahweh's, —
He ruleth the nations (vv. 27I).
Thus through the discipline of sorrow the people
were raised from their old self-complacency to a
new sense of their national destiny as the prophet
of God to the nations. And, when the almost
unhoped-for deliverance was come, and the first
singing bands found themselves once more beside
the sacred stones of Zion, visions of Jerusalem as
the centre of a world-wide Kingdom of the living
God swept before their imagination. The noblest
expression is given to this hope in that strangely
fascinating Ps. lxxxvii., the mood of which har
monizes so truly with this hour of wondering
expectancy : —
On holy mountains is Jahweh's foundation,
And the Almighty Himself will upbuild it.1
For Jahweh loveth the gates of Zion
More than all the dwellings of Jacob.
1 The first verse is obviously incomplete. Buhl has happily
provided a second stichos in the closing phrase of v. 5, which is
clearly out of touch with its present context. A subject is almost
necessary for the possessive case at the opening of the Psalm.
For irn-IP?, therefore, we might read '' ITl-lP.', the '* being the
common Massoretic contraction for nil"!'.

Kingdom of God in the Psalms 195
Glorious things are spoken of thee,
Zion, the city of God :
' Rahab and Babel I mention among those that know me,
Philistia, likewise, and Tyre, with Cush ;
But Zion— she shall be called Mother,1
For each and all were born in her.'
Even Jahweh shall count, while enrolling the peoples,
' So was born there, and that one was born there.' 2
Thus shall they sing, as they dance,
' All my springs are in thee.' 3
These notes are witnesses to the indestructible
vitality of Israel's faith. Other nations had dreamed
their dreams of world-Empire, in which their gods
naturally assumed the spiritual supremacy. But
such hopes were bound up with military glory and
success. Thus the downfall of the people saw the ex-
1 The LXX reads M^rijp 2etwv, ' Mother [Zion,' This bears
indisputable witness to the falling out of DN! before "1DSO, the
original reading being 1DK'. DX fl'Vp-l, which yields an excellent
context. 2 The phrase DB>"*V?' JIT is quite out of place in v. 4, and is thus
rightly omitted by LXX (X) . But in the original Psalm it may
have had its position elsewhere ; and Wellhausen has ingeniously
inserted the words after the corresponding phrase in v. 6, giving
the two together a distributive sense. This conjecture not only
adds to the force of the verse, but also explains the present dis
location, the words having been first omitted through a lapsus
oculi, then inserted in the margin, and finally incorporated in
their present position in the body of the text.
3 The text is here again concise to the point almost of enigma.
There is perhaps some disorder. But the general sense is suffi
ciently clear. The Psalmist breaks into a short, quick note of
joy, the rhythm of which is probably an imitation of some popu
lar dance measure.

196 The Poets of the Old Testament
tinction of their dreams. But the faith and hope of
Israel not merely survived the shock of national
ruin ; out of the blackness of desolation that people
entered on its true career of glory as the spiritual
guide and teacher of the world. There is still a
certain externality in the Psalmist's dreams. He
cannot picture a Kingdom or Empire of God without
its earthly centre. Yet his ideal of Jerusalem as
the Mother-city imparts to his thought of Israel's
future glory a freedom and universality of range
that not even the broadest sweep of prophetic vision
had yet reached. The prophets had foreseen the
Gentile races streaming to Jerusalem to receive
the instruction of Jahweh, bringing rich tribute of
gold and silver in token of allegiance. The Psalmist
has here risen to the grander conception of a world
wide Empire in which Israel's bitterest enemies,
and those most widely removed from her influence
— the persecutors Egypt and Babylon, the old
enemy the ' uncircumcised ' Philistine, with the
proud commercial city of Tyre, whose ambitions
seemed all for worldly wealth and splendour, and
distant Cush, the land of darkness and terror —
were together embraced in the knowledge and fear
of Jahweh, all of them counted among the children,
and each enjoying the citizen-rights of Zion. The
light was thus broadening to the perfect day when
in God's Kingdom there should be ' neither Jew

Kingdom of God in the Psalms 197
nor Greek, neither bond nor free, for all are one in
Christ Jesus ' (Gal. iii. 28).
In the later Psalms there are found many expres
sions of intense national feeling. But Jahweh is
no longer regarded as the God of Israel alone. Even
when His arm is extended to save His people, He
is the Lord of heaven and earth,
Who stablished the hills by His strength,
Being girded with might,
Who stilleth the roar of the seas,
And the noise of the peoples (lxv. 6f.),
and whose saving grace is known through all the
nations, and His fear and praise go forth ' to the
ends of the earth ' (Ixvii. 2ff.). The universal reign
of Jahweh is the special theme of the majestic
group of ' new songs ' (xciii.-c.), in which the whole
earth lifts up its voice in praise of His marvellous
honour and majesty, glory and strength, as revealed
alike in His works of creative power, and in His
righteous, loving judgments.
Jahweh is King ; let the earth rejoice,
Let the coast-lands many be glad !
Clouds and darkness are round Him,
The base of His throne is righteousness
Fire marcheth before Him,
And blazeth about His steps.
His lightnings lightened the world, —
The earth beheld it, and writhed ;
The mountains melted like wax
Before the Lord of all the earth.
The heavens declared His righteousness,
And all peoples beheld His glory.

198 The Poets of the Old Testament
Ashamed are all that worship idols,
That pride themselves in vanities ;
But Zion heard, and was glad,
And the daughters of Judah rejoiced.1
For Thou, Jahweh, art High over all the earth,
Exalted far above all the gods.
Jahweh loves the haters of evil ;
He keepeth the souls of His saints.2
Light shineth out for the righteous,
And joy for the upright of heart.
Rejoice then in Jahweh, ye righteous,
And praise His holy memorial ! (Ps. xcvii.).
In prophetic pictures of the coming Kingdom
the central figure was the ideal King, the glorious
Messiah of later Jewish expectation. The hope of
the Psalmists turns so directly on God Himself
that before His pure radiance even the light of
the Messiah seems to pale. It is Jahweh who
here assumes the sovereignty, and reigns in love
and righteousness. Only in three of the later
Psalms is the great King represented by an earthly
Viceroy. But so deeply had the expectation of
the Messiah cut into the heart of Jewish piety that
one of these Psalms has been singled out from its
older context, and placed in the forefront of the
Psalter, as a fitting sequel to Ps. i., the key-note
' In this stanza the closing stichoi of vv. 7 and 8 have been
omitted as standing outside ofthe metrical scheme of the Psalm.
They are probably mere exclamations or glosses of a reader.
2 The closing stichos of v. 10 is likewise but a variant in thought
to the preceding phrase.

Kingdom of God in the Psalms 199
of the whole. The Psalm depicts a tumultuous
gathering of the nations against Jahweh and His
people. In words full of life and passion they hiss
out their fury, while He remains seated on His
throne in heaven, ' laughing ' in sheer contempt
of their vain clamourings. Then He rises in His
wrath, and speaks the word of discomfiture :
But I have set my King
On Zion my holy hill.
I have said to Him, ' Thou art my Son :
This day have I begotten Thee.
Ask of me, and I will give
The nations for Thine inheritance.
With a mace of iron shalt Thou crush them,
As a potter's vessel Thou shalt shiver them.
Now, therefore, ye kings, be wise ;
Be admonished, ye judges of earth !
Serve Jahweh with fear,
And with trembling bow down to Him,1
Lest He break forth in wrath, and ye fall in your way ;
For His anger will soon flame out 2 (Ps, ii.).
The Messiah is here the Divinely anointed agent of
Jahweh's wrath against the heathen who challenge
His supremacy. And essentially the same concep
tion meets us in Ps. ex., where the priest-king
marches at Jahweh's right hand over the stricken
1 I have followed Duhm in treating the hopelessly perplexing
words "13 -IpBO as a broken variant to iT1U"!3 ¦Ip'JI, representing
perhaps an original '13 X? ¦HIB'-I, bow before Him with trembling.
2 The closing phrase 13 'Pin"?3 'IK'S, happy all they that trust
in Him, is no doubt a Uilurgical addition.

200 The Poets of the Old Testament
bodies of the enemy to His throne of righteousness.
This thought of a warlike Messiah, who should
save His people from their oppressors, plays a large
part in the eschatology of the Jews, both in religious
odes like the seventeenth ' Psalm of Solomon ' and
in the apocalyptic literature. But alongside of
this conception runs the purer ideal of a King ruling
in mercy and love. The original nucleus of Ps.
Ixxii. may have been a joyous accession Ode in
honour of one of the later kings of Judah. But in
its present form it soars far beyond the earthly
range. One can hardly do justice to the bold
expectations of the Psalm except on the assumption
that it describes the glories of the Messianic reign.
O God, give the king Thy judgment,
The king's son Thy righteousness,
That He judge Thy people in justice,
And Thy poor with judgment I
That the mountains may bring forth weal,
And the hills yield righteousness ;
That He judge the poor of the people,
And save the sons of the needy I
That He reign as long as the sun,
While the moon shines, age by age ;
That He fall as rain on the meadow,
As showers that water the earth I
That in His days right may flourish,
And well-being abound without measure ;
That He reign from sea to sea,
From the River to the ends of the earth !
Before Him bow His foes,
His enemies lick the dust !

Kingdom of God in the Psalms 201
The kings of Tarshish and the isles offer gifts,
Kings of Sheba and Seba bring tribute I
Before Him let all kings bow,
Let all nations serve Him !
For He saveth the poor when he crieth,
The needy, and him that hath no helper.
He pitieth the weak and the poor.
And saveth the souls of the needy.
Their souls will He rescue from violence,
For dear is their blood in His eyes.
Long may He live ;
And gold of Sheba be given Him !
Prayer too be made for Him ever ;
And daily may He be blessed !
Plenty of corn may there be in the land,
To the top of the hills may it rustle ;
May the fruit thereof flourish as Lebanon,1
And they of the city blossom like herbs of the earth !
May His name be blessed for ever,
His renown endure as the sun !
May men be blessed in Him !
All nations call Him happy I

1 On the recovery of the verb in this stichos, cf . Kittel. If
the text be sound in the closing stichos, the 'fruit thereof (i.e.,
of the land) is most easily understood of the people, the natural
parallel to which will be ' they of the city.' The reading, how
ever, is somewhat uncertain.

CHAPTER XII
The Book of Job
In the Psalter we have already been brought into
touch with great souls in conflict with the mysteries
of Providence. But the most heroic of these strug
gles is waged in the Book of Job. Here the poetical
genius of Israel reaches its noblest height. In range
of imagination, and sustained splendour of diction,
the Book not merely stands alone in the Old Testa
ment, but takes a foremost place also among the
masterpieces of the world's literature. Tennyson
but expresses the common feeling of literary critics
when he pronounces it ' the greatest poem whether
of ancient or of modern times.'
With this general judgment perhaps all would
concur. But when we pass to a closer study of
the Book, we are bewildered by the endless diversity
of opinion that meets us. Even on the question
of the literary character of Job, it is almost quot
homines, tot opiniones. According to some scholars,
it is an epic ; according to others, a drama, or
more specifically, a tragedy ; and according to
still others, a didactic poem. As if to comprehend
202

The Book of Job 203
all possible varieties of opinion, Dillmann calls it
' an epic-dramatic didactic poem ' (ein episch-
dramatisch Lehrgedicht).1 On the other hand, there
are those who refuse to class the Book in any of
the recognized literary forms. ' We cannot,' it is
said, ' force this splendid piece of Hebrew wisdom
into a Greek scheme, and it is really futile to discuss
whether it is a drama or an epic. It is itself.' 2
If possible, still more diverse are the judgments
pronounced on the theme and purpose of the Book —
the ' problem of Job.' Here, again, all possible
rubrics and formulae have been adopted. The
sufferings of Job are described as the trial of his
piety, the test by which God revealed the sterling
reality and invincible strength of his faith ; or as
the discipline through which He purified his heart
from its unbelief and impiety, thus perfecting his
faith and character.3 Other authorities have found
the tendency of the poem to be purely negative —
to clear the ground of outworn theories of sin and
suffering — or even sceptical and pessimistic.4 And
1 Hiob, p. xxiii. s Peake, Job (Century Bible), p. 41.
3 German scholars have drawn up quite a table of categories
under which Job's sufferings maybe classed : Priifungs-, Bewahr-
ungs-, Zeugniss-, Ziichtigungs und Lauterungs-, and Forderungs-
Leiden. 4 Thus Dr. E. J. Dillon classes Job among his Sceptics of the
Old Testament, while Fried. Delitzsch describes the poem as ' The
Song of Songs (das Hohelied) of Pessimism.' The most extreme
advocate of this theory is Eugen Muller, pastor in Rostock, who in

204 The Poets of the Old Testament
others read it simply as the dramatic representation
of a heroic soul's struggle towards light and peace.1
Our view of the character and purpose of the
Book must turn largely on the relation conceived
to exist between the Prologue and the poem proper.
The former not merely sketches the scenic back
ground, and introduces us to the different dramatis
personae, but is governed by a clear and consistent
motive. The sufferings of Job are the direct result
of the Satan's challenge (i. 9). If the Prologue
be an integral part of the poem, we have here
the key to the interpretation of Job. In the inci
sive words of A. B. Davidson : ' This question
— Doth Job serve God for nought ? — is the problem
of the book.' 2 But the difficulty is just to read the
poem in this light. And the learning and insight
which Davidson and his great confreres, Delitzsch
and Dillmann, have applied to the problem throw
the difficulty into still clearer relief. It is not merely
that the bearing of Job is different. But the
whole centre of interest changes. In the poem,
the Satan and his cynical assaults on human good
ness vanish. It is no longer Job's piety, but God's
justice, that is in question. As even Godet admits,
a recent monograph, Der echte Hiob (1902), describes the poem as
atheistic, setting forth ' the absolute unrighteousness of God as
the solution of the problem.'
1 Ewald may be regarded as the first great exponent of this
view. 2 Comm. on Job, p. xvi.

The Book of Job 205
' The Being who is brought to the bar of judgment
is in reality not Job, it is Jehovah. The point in
debate is not only the virtue of Job ; it is, at the
same time, and in a still higher degree, the justice of
God.' x And Job is now the Prometheus who
boldly joins issue with the Almighty. The problem
of the poem is to reconcile faith in God with the
inequalities of His Providence. And it ends in
God's appearing, not to reveal to His steadfast servant
the meaning of his sufferings, but to vindicate His
own character as worthy of trust and love.2
It is equally difficult to relate the spiritual view
point of the Epilogue to the general tenor of the
poem. In His dazzling revelation of His majesty
(xxxviii. if. ; xl. if.) Jahweh describes Job's pas
sionate speeches as ' words without knowledge,'
which ' darken counsel ' and ' cavil ' against the
Almighty and His ways. But in the Epilogue
(xiii. ji.) the supreme Vindicator of the righteous
approves Job as having consistently spoken of
Him ' the thing that is right,' while He hotly re-

1 Old Testament Studies, p. 186.
2 The latest and most elaborate attempt to prove the integral
unity of Prologue and poem, Dr. Karl Kautzsch's Das soge-
nannle Volksbuch von Hiob (1900), evades the real difficulty.
According to this scholar, the Prologue merely sets forth the
general facts of the case, the appearance of Satan and his im
peachment of Job's piety being but picturesque staging. This is,
of course, to cut the heart out of the Prologue.

206 The Poets of the Old Testament
proves the friends for their ' foolish ' or ' impious '
words.1 The Epilogue appears, in fact, to be the
original sequel to a series of speeches in which the
' impious ' counsel of Job's wife, to ' curse God
and die,' is followed by similar advice on the part
of his friends — still more irreverent, perhaps, in
tone — to be rejected by the patient sufferer with
the same abhorrence as before.
On these grounds we seem irresistibly led to the
conclusion first suggested by Wellhausen in a review
of Dillmann's Hiob,2 but worked out most elabo
rately by Budde and Duhm, that the prologue and
epilogue formed the main part of an older prose tale
of Job's sufferings, which the poet has adopted as
the framework of the present Book. One can
hardly follow these critics, however, in their idea
that this prose tale was an early, pre-exilic Volks-
buch. The materials were, no doubt, drawn from
the old tradition of Job known to Ezekiel (xiv. 14,
20), who classes Job with Noah and Daniel as
ideal types of piety in the hoary days of old. But
the advanced idea of the Satan points unmistakably
1 n?33, as usual, of practical or moral ' folly,' that is, ' impiety,'
or ' godlessness.' The same word is used by Job to describe his
wife's attitude. To him she speaks niP33n JiriN?, ' hke one of
the godless women ' (ii. i o) . One can hardly be wrong, therefore,
in supposing that the tenor of the friend's speeches in the original
tale was similar to hers.
2 Jahrbiicher fiir Deutsche Theologie, 1871, p. 555.

The Book of Job 207
to the Persian era, while the whole tendency of the
story appears too strongly marked for a mere Volks-
sage. The idea of the Satan as a searcher of human
wickedness is first met with in Zech. iii. (b.c 520).
And the problem of personal suffering became
most acute in the immediately succeeding genera
tions. The nearest analogy to the problem as it
confronts us in the Prologue of Job appears in the
prophecies of Malachi (probably just before the
happier age of Ezra and Nehemiah), where we read
of many forsaking the fear of Jahweh because,
as they said, ' every one that did evil was good in
the sight of Jahweh, and He delighted in them,'
while He left the righteous languishing in poverty
and sorrow ; wherefore ' it was vain to serve Him,
and there was no profit in keeping His charge and
walking mournfully before Him ' (Mal. ii. 17 ; iii.
14). x This first draft of Job, then, we regard as
a pious prose tale or epic — somewhat resembling
the narrative parts of Daniel — written to cheer the
downcast hearts of the people of God in those
troublous times that followed the Restoration, when
the righteous suffered, and the wicked saw long
and prosperous years, and devout souls were often
1 The later date of the chapters has been convincingly proved
by Karl Kautzsch (op. cit., pp. 22ff.), and accepted by later
scholars Uke Cornill (Einleitung 6, p. 270) and Nathaniel Schmidt
(Messages of the Poets, pp. 97ff.).

2 o 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
sadly tempted to renounce their faith, for it seemed
so profitless to serve God in sincerity. By the
picture of Job the upright suffering the loss of all
things, and even the extreme of personal agony,
yet holding fast his faith in God, and even blessing
the hand that smote, the writer encourages the
suffering saints of his own day to bear their afflic
tions bravely ; for these are not, as they imagine
in their heaviness of heart, the outpouring of the
Divine wrath because of their sins, but the test by
which God is even now revealing before angels
and men the sterling purity of their faith and piety.
Thus if they hold fast their integrity, as Job did,
they too will be witnesses for God to their genera
tion ; and soon He will arise in His glory to champion
their cause, and will bless their latter end more
than their beginning.
The poem of Job was apparently written at no
distant date from the older prose epic.1 But it

1 The poem is evidently later than Jeremiah, whose passion
ate cursing of his birth-day (xx. I4ff.) is imitated in Job iii. 3ff.,
and also the eighth Psalm (itself later than the Priestly Code),
which is parodied in vii. 1 7f . The Aramaic colouring of the poem
fully bears out this conclusion. But the date is not far removed
from the Restoration, as the language is much less decadent
than in the Song of Songs and Ecclesiastes. We may reasonably
place it about 400 b.c. The objection that II Isaiah contains a
deeper solution of the problem, and is, therefore, subsequent to
Job, has no real weight, inasmuch as that prophecy deals with
national, and Job with personal, suffering.

The Book of Job 209
sounds far profounder depths. The Prologue is
retained, indeed, as a general introduction to the
piece. But the poet can no longer rest content
with its simple, cheerful view of suffering as the
Divine trial of faith, to be made good by double
prosperity. Nor does he represent Job any more as
the type of the patient sufferer. Instead, he brings
him to the lowest abyss of despair, and makes him
break out into the most blasphemous invectives
against God and His judgments. We cannot doubt
that he thus gives expression to his own personal
feelings. The poet is one who has felt the iron of
suffering pass deeply into his own soul, and has
been driven by the cold consolations of well-mean
ing, though unsympathetic, friends into open revolt
against the God of popular imagination, but has
fought his way through despair and doubt, if not
to clear light on the problem of suffering, yet to a
freer and nobler faith in the living God. And in
the poem he has opened his heart, and spoken out
all the feelings that passed through his soul in his
agony of grief, till he found rest again in
God. There is thus a distinctly lyrical element in the
poem. The component parts are often pure lyrics
— the immediate outflow of the feelings of the heart.
But the form of the poem is dramatic, the theme
being developed in a series of dialogues between Job
14

2 1 o The Poets of the Old Testament
and his friends, and the poem as a whole leading
forward to a real dramatic denouement. It is true,
Job was never intended for the stage. And the
dramatic movement is far less certain and swift than
in a Greek tragedy. The characters, also, lack the
strong, clear-cut profile of great dramatic heroes.
One may distinguish the grave, courtly Eliphaz,
with his awesome revelations of the Divine, from the
more timid and shrinking Bildad, who can but rely
on the traditions of the fathers, and the rough,
coarse-grained Zophar, seeking rather to brow-beat
than to argue with his friend. Yet all three are rather
mere lay figures, to whom has been committed the
defence of rusty maxims, and who repeat the same
old saws to the increasing embitterment of Job's
racked and tortured soul, than the imposing person
alities whose wills clash in deadly conflict on the
Greek or Shakespearian stage. The real action of
the poem is within the hero's own soul. If we are
to describe it as dramatic, therefore, we may term it
a psychological or spiritual drama — the poetical
reflexion of one of those dramas of real life which in
volve 'more daring plots, deeper passion, more
glorious and more mournful issues than ever were
witnessed in representation.' x
The argument develops in three distinct Cycles.
Davidson, Comm. on Job, p. xvii.

The Book of Job 211
The first two are complete. But the third has suf
fered considerable disorder. Alike in sentiment and
poetical form, the larger part of ch. xxiv. is out of all
harmony with Job's usual replies to Eliphaz. The
chapter is thus, probably, a substitute for some dar
ing attack on the Almighty, which wounded the
feelings of a later age. The three following chapters
present yet graver critical problems. Bildad's clos
ing speech (ch. xxv.) is surprisingly short and broken,
while Zophar's is missing. On the other hand, in
xxvi. 5ff. and xxvii. 7ff., there are placed in Job's
mouth expressions of wondering adoration before
God's infinite majesty, and lurid forewarnings of
the fate of the wicked, which vitally conflict with his
whole attitude through the poem. The current
explanations — that the arguments of the friends are
now exhausted, and that, before his final appeal to
the Almighty, Job wishes to concede the justice of
their case ' in the main ' — are mere evasions of the
difficulty. In the interests of literary art a certain
reconstruction of the speeches is necessary. As
early as the twelfth century, the Jewish scholar
Raschi suggested that xxvii. nff. really belonged
to the friends ; and since Kennicott's bold adoption
of this hypothesis, the disputed passage, with the
exception of vv. nf., has been generally assigned to
Zophar, the poem thus recovering its full artistic
harmony. The parallel verses, xxvi. 5ff., have with

212 The Poets of the Old Testament
equal plausibility been viewed as the sequel to Bil
dad's broken sentences ; and if Peake be right in
regarding xxv. 4-6 as a redactional stitch in the rent
vesture of the poem, a fine sequence is thus gained.
As the brilliant monologue in ch. xxviii. moves alto
gether outside of the orbit of Job — being a choice
fragment of Wisdom poetry which has found an
accidental lodgment here — the third Cycle may be
disposed as follows : Eliphaz (xxii.), Job (xxiii.,
xxiv.), Bildad (xxv. 1-3; xxvi. 5-14), Job (xxvi.
1-4; xxvii. 2-6, uf.), Zophar (xxvii. 7-10, 13-23),
Job's final reply being found in the great Apologia
pro Vita Sua (xxix.-xxxi.), in which he leaves his
friends behind him, and presents his plea direct to
the Divine Antagonist of his rights. Even the
Apologia has not escaped without certain evident
dislocations. Thus, into the dismal picture of
Job's present misery there has been worked a patch
of alien matter (xxx. 1-8), closely resembling the
portraiture of the naked outcasts in ch. xxiv. And
the majestic approach to God, xxxi. 35-37, is now
followed by the sad anti-climax (vv. 38-40), in which
Job protests that his fields and furrows have no
reason to cry out against him, for his work has all
been marked by the strictest integrity and human
kindness. These verses are clearly a misplaced
section of the chapter, having fallen out, perhaps,
before v. 35. The context being thus restored, the

The Book of Job 213
stage is cleared for the heroic contest of man with
God.1 At the very moment, however, when we wait with
breathless interest for the Antagonist to appear, a
new disputant thrusts himself forward. Elihu's
name is absent alike from the Prologue, and from the
main movement of the poem. In the Epilogue, too,
Jahweh takes no account of his appearance. Nor
do his speeches contribute anything vital to the
unravelling of the plot. He does, indeed, dwell with
reverential dignity on the greatness, power, and
love of God, and he lays especial stress on the influ
ence of suffering as the Divinely-appointed means
of chastening and perfecting the faith of the most
faithful. But even in these respects his words are
but laboured expansions of the earlier speeches of
Eliphaz (v. I7ff.), and the great utterance of Jahweh
(xxxviii. 4ff.), while the strong Aramaic tincture of
the language irresistibly suggests a later origin.
The scholarship of the past century has, therefore,
with remarkable unanimity, pronounced chs. xxxii.-
xxxvii. an accretion on the original poem, intended
to provide an intellectual solution of the problem
of Job. A chivalrous attempt has been made by
Budde, however, to rescue Elihu from his fate. In
this reading of the poem, the balance of truth
1 An excellent survey of critical opinion on these points is
given in Peake's Job, pp. 33L, 223ff.

214 The Poets of the Old Testament
lies not with Job, but with his friends, especially
Elihu, who gives ' pure and unadulterated expres
sion ' to the poet's own thoughts. Job was, indeed,
' a perfect and upright man.' But in his earlier
days there were germs of spiritual pride and self-
righteousness latent within his heart ; and God
designed his sufferings to purge him of this leaven.
The first result of his afflictions was to drive him
into passionate attacks on the Almighty for His sup
posed injustice. But the friends gradually softened
his bitter feelings. Then Elihu revealed to him
the true meaning of his sufferings. And Jahweh
Himself appeared to drive home the truth. Where
upon Job withdrew his blasphemies, and repented
in dust and ashes.
Budde has submitted the language of Elihu's
speeches to careful study, and thus helped to rehabil
itate them in the estimation of fair-minded scholars.
But his general interpretation of the poem can
hardly commend itself to our judgment. Job is the
real hero of the piece ; and our sympathies are all
with him. The friends may pour forth their truisms
— for their observations on life are true enough to
common experience ; Job may shock us by his pro
fanities ; yet it is he that holds our interest, and
that all the more as he girds himself for his Titanic
contest with the Almighty. Our dramatic instincts
cannot, therefore, tolerate such an intrusion as the

The Book of Job 215
long, diffuse arguments of Elihu. Job has pre
sented his case, and challenged God to arraign him.
By all the rules of art, Jahweh must now appear to
explain the mystery of Job's sufferings, or at least
to vindicate His own character as honourable and
just. And this fine climax is gained if we pass
directly from Job's dignified appeal in xxxi. 35ff.
to the burst of glorious music with which Jahweh
opens His reply from the whirlwind.1
It is now almost universally agreed that the bril
liance of Jahweh's words has likewise been tarnished
by an overlay of baser metal. The heavy, sensuous
art of the descriptions of behemoth and leviathan
(xl. 15-xli. 34) stands in broad contrast to the swift,
imaginative beauty of the preceding pictures of
natural life and order. Their effect is, further, to
divert attention from the main issue of the poem.
1 The arguments against the originaUty of Elihu's speeches
are fully presented in the Commentaries of Davidson, Peake,
etc., and in such Introductions as Driver's, or McFadyen's.
The contrary view was maintained by Hengstenberg and the
strictly conservative school ; but not till Budde's spirited defence
did it find much favour with more advanced critics. Budde's
case was first set forth in his Beitrdge zur Erkldrung des Buches
Hiob (1876), and has since been re-stated in his Handkommentar
(1896) and Geschichte der althebrdischen Literatur (1906). His
views have been accepted by Wildeboer and Cornill, the latter
of whom describes the speeches of Elihu as the ' crown of the
Book of Job,' offering, indeed, ' the only real solution of the
problem ' (op. cit., p. 265). But, with a few exceptions, recent
scholarship has pronounced against Budde's interpretation of
the poem.

2 1 6 The Poets of the Old Testament
Both sections are, therefore, to be eliminated from
the original words. This leaves the second utterance
of Jahweh deprived of any real substance. But, as
the words which introduce this speech (xl. 6f.) are
clearly a variant to the original introduction (xxxviii.
1-3), and as Job's reply in xl. 3-5 shows equally
evident marks of dislocation, recent criticism seems
justified in reading chs. xxxviii., xxxix., and xl. 2,
8-14 as Jahweh's one overwhelming speech from the
whirlwind, and xl. 3-5, xiii. 2-6 (excluding the
stray variants from Jahweh's speech in vv. 3a, 4)
as Job's one awestruck reply.1
The modern reader is often disappointed with the
words of Jahweh. He may be struck dumb with
wonder before their sheer splendour of light
and power. But he searches them in vain for any
direct solution of the problem of suffering. A number
of recent scholars have, therefore, read the chapters
as another noble piece of Wisdom poetry — some
what earlier than the speeches of Elihu — exalting
the greatness and glory of the Eternal, while leaving
the problem of Job ' an inscrutable mystery, to be
treated with reverence by man.' 2 This theory of
1 On this question, also, the^Enghsh reader will find in Peake's
Commentary, pp. 3292., an illuminating presentation of the whole
case. 2 The chief exponents of this view are Studer, Cheyne (Ency.
Bibl., art. Job), Nath. Schmidt (Messages of the Poets, pp. gof.),
and Buchanan Blake, in his recent interesting study of The Book

The Book of Job 217
the Book not merely reduces it to a magnificent
torso, but appears to shift the real centre of dramatic
interest. The problem that confronted the poet was
far less speculative than practical. He had lost his
faith, and was painfully struggling towards an am
pler faith. And for victory in this good fight he
needed, not so much light on the mystery of suffer
ing, as a new and richer revelation of God Himself.
This revelation is objectified in the Divine Voice
from the whirlwind. Stripped of its poetic dress,
we have here no other than a real vision of God in
the works of His hand. The poet who thus unveils
his spiritual history had sought to regain God in the
feelings and cravings of his own stricken heart. But
there he found, at the best, only the reflex of his
struggles — not the living personal God. Now he
rises out of himself and his self-centred questionings
to contemplate the great Universe around him ; and
there he sees all things luminous with the light of
God's presence. In the same way — if we may com
pare modern philosophy with ancient poetry — for
of Job and the Problem of Suffering, pp. i85ff. On the other
hand, the profound religious significance of the speech of Jahweh
has been emphasized by Davidson in his great Commentary on
Job, pp. xhv. f. (cf. Cambridge Bible, pp. 258ff.), W.T. Davison
in his Wisdom Literature of the Old Testament, pp. 95ft. (cf. Diet.
of the Bible, II. 6681), Peake, Job, pp. i6ff., 312ft., etc. But
perhaps the most illuminating modern discussion of the question
is to be found in Duhm's brilhant Kurzer Hand-Commentar,
pp. i8off.

2 1 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
the heart of man is essentially the same in all ages —
the restless soul of Kant found salvation from his
speculative doubts in the immediate intuition of God
in ' the starry heavens above and the moral law
within.' The appearance of Jahweh thus effects the ttdQapo-is
— the healing of the troubled and distracted spirit —
which Aristotle regards as the true moral end of the
drama. Job is, no doubt, at first overwhelmed by
the vision of the Divine, and he bows before Him in
humble reverence and awe. But as those who saw
the fuller vision of God in Jesus Christ were drawn
by the spell of Eternal Love, above their first
crushing convictions of sin, into happy fellowship with
that Love, so is Job also raised from his fears to new
ness of life with God. Hitherto he has learned of
Him only by tradition, ' by the hearing of the ear.'
Now he knows Him in actual spiritual experience.
' Mine own eye seeth Thee ' (xiii. 5.)1 And the God
in whom he will thenceforward live and move is One
in whom his spirit can rest in perfect confidence.
For the revelation from the whirlwind is no mere
series of ironical questions, calculated only to be
wilder and confuse the mind they dazzle by their
1 ' The poet leaves it open to us to animate Job's repentance
with love as well as awe and compunction . With fine f eeUng Blake
in his seventeenth illustration almost fills the margin with 'pas
sages from the Johannine writings.' — Cheyne, Job and Solomon,
p. 56.

The Book of Job 219
brilliance. It gives majestic impressions of the
beauty and harmony of the Universe, and of the
blended glory and gracious kindness of the God who
made these things all so lovely and good, and who of
His bounty provides even for the wild creatures of
the desert, who live so far apart from human life.
Thus, while the inference is not directly drawn, the
moral is clear. In the universe of human life, as
well as in the boundless Universe without, there is
much complexity and much mystery, many things
that are far beyond our power to comprehend. But
the God of wisdom, power and grace rules in both
worlds. And though often we cannot trace even
the outlines of His purpose, we can yet trust Him to
rule our lives wisely, lovingly and well. There is
the same appeal to immediate intuition, and the
same moral, in the Sermon on the Mount. ' Behold
the fowls of the air ; for they sow not, neither do
they reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your heavenly
Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than
they ? . . . Consider the lilies of the field, how they
grow ; they toil not, neither do they spin ; and yet
I say unto you that even Solomon in all his glory was
not arrayed like one of them. Wherefore, shall
God not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith ? '
(Matt. vi. 26ff.).1
1 An interesting analogue to Job's solution of the problem may
be found in Sophocles' ripest tragedies. Aeschylus had regarded
misfortune as the penalty paid for wrong-doing, with the view of

2 2 o The Poets of the Old Testament
The high poetical tone of Job is sustained through
out. The speeches of the friends may be marked by
a certain coldness of feeling ; and the coarse spirit
of Zophar may descend at times to the mire. But in
their nobler moods they rise to the spiritual uplands
of great poetry. The first speech of Eliphaz is a
real masterpiece of art. His amazing vision of the
Unseen Presence has appealed especially to the
kindred imagination of Milton and Blake. But
every sensitive reader has been awed by its weird,
mysterious breathings. And the closing picture of
working out the sinner's moral discipline (cf. his frequently re
peated 7ra0ei;u£0os or ira0?j,i«u-a pad-imaTa, ' by suffering men learn ').
On the other hand, Sophocles views suffering sub specie aeternit-
atis, in the light of the eternal harmony of things. Thus the
grievous sorrows Philoctetes had to bear are conceived to have
been laid upon him ' by the care of one of the gods,' that he might
be held in reserve, and braced in character, for his appointed task
in the overthrow of Troy ; and when Heracles at length reveals
the purpose of the gods, he accepts his destiny with courage and
joy (II. i452ff.). The tragedy of Oedipus ends in the same atmo
sphere of peace. The sorely-afflicted hero finds himself now re
conciled to heaven, surrounded by the love of devoted children,
and honoured by the friendship of kindly Athens and its chival
rous king, and gently yields his life to the touch of the gods, his
destiny thus finding 'a perfect end' (Oed. Col., I. 1779). In
both these dramas, then, Sophocles ' views the problem of human
suffering with the eye of faith, and in proportion as he sets before
him an ideal of an all-powerful divinity, who is merciful, loving
and gracious, so does it become easy for him to bear patiently with
the evil and suffering in the world, in the serene behef that, were
man's vision wide enough, he would see joy and sorrow to be parts
of one harmonious whole ' (Mrs. Adam, in Early Ideals of Right
eousness, p. 42).

The Book of Job 221
the good man's happiness is idyllic in its tenderness
and grace. Even the rough heart of Zophar is
moved to sweet poetic notes when melted by sym
pathy for his friend, or hushed in reverence before
the Almighty. And the last embittered speech of
Eliphaz ends with the same fair vision of peace and
joy in God (xxii. 2iff .) . But, though he thus lavishes
the rich resources of his art on all parts of the dia
logue, the poet throws his full strength into the
struggle of Job. In imaginative feeling these
speeches are equalled only by Shakespeare — if
indeed even by him. The poet passes with his hero
through the darkest valleys of religious doubt, and
even defiant unbelief. With withering sarcasm he
rends the poor figments of popular faith. In the
proud consciousness of his own integrity he hurls his
bolts against the Almighty Himself. But then, at
the thought of his hopeless sufferings and his swiftly
approaching end, he turns to Him in plaintive appeal
for sympathy. He looks forward to death, now
with a wistful pleasure, and again with horror and
indignation. Out of the darkness he rises at times
to the Delectable Mountains, from which the gates
of the Celestial City are seen with a clearness of
vision that startles and bewilders him. With the
Almighty Friend he ascends to heaven itself, and
surveys the Universe with the eyes of the Divine.
The whole poem is studded with exquisite pictures

222 The Poets of the Old Testament
of natural life and scenery. But in the speech of
Jahweh the poet's genius reaches its loftiest height.
For beauty and truth — perfect truth to the living
heart of Nature — these visions are unsurpassed in
literature. As Carlyle says, ' There is the seeing eye,
the understanding heart. So true every way : true
insight and vision for all things ; material things no
less than spiritual .... Such living likenesses
were never since drawn.' It is all as great ' as the
summer midnight, as the world with its seas and
stars ! There is nothing written, I think, in the
Bible or out of it, of equal literary merit.' x
1 Lectures on Heroes — ' The Hero as Prophet.'

CHAPTER XIII
The Patience of Job
In its opening scene the Prologue introduces us to
Job, a man that was ' perfect and upright, one that
feared God and eschewed evil,' surrounded with all
the prosperity that, according to the religious axiom
of the day, belonged of right to the good — a wealth
of substance that made him ' the greatest of all the
children of the East,' and a family of loving sons and
daughters, for whom life was one long round of social
mirth. Even in those days of simple faith increase
of worldly treasure was wont to draw the heart from
God. But Job's prosperity made him the more
scrupulous in his regard for His honour. Thus not
only did he eschew open evil in himself, but he sought
to guard against even the subtlest appearance of
unconscious sin in his children's hearts. He was,
indeed, no morose Puritan. He rejoiced in their
innocent enjoyments. But he knew how easily
pleasure may lead to forgetfulness of God. And
therefore, week by week, when the cycle of their
feasting was gone round, he sent and sanctified them,
and offered burnt offerings according to the

224 The Poets of the Old Testament
number of them all ; for Job said, ' It may be that
my sons have sinned, and cursed x God in their
hearts.' The scene now shifts from earth to heaven. Jah
weh is revealed seated on His throne, receiving the
reports of His ministers of State, the heavenly
beings who do His royal business. Among them ap
pears the Satan, a sort of Prosecutor-General, whose
function is to search out men's character and works,
to detect their sins and failings, and so oppose their
claims to a righteous standing before God. He has
been scouring through the earth, gathering up his
tale of ill report, and he comes with a certain mali
cious glee to pour it into the ears of the King. But
the God who has no pleasure in evil meets him with
at least one clear case of goodness. ' Hast thou con
sidered my servant Job, that there is none like him
in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that
feareth God and escheweth evil ? ' The Satan's
knowledge of frail mankind has given him such a
contempt for human virtue that he will make no
exception even of Job. He does, indeed, admit the
fact of his exemplary piety. But he raises the
fiendish suggestion : ' Doth Job serve God for
nought ? ' Is not self-interest the root of all his
1 The ^13, ' bless,' of this and following verses, is most probably
a euphemism for ' curse.' In any case, with fine dramatic effect,
the temptation of Job is made to centre round the very sin he
feared his children might be unwittingly lured into.

The Patience of Job 225
fine piety ? ' Hast not Thou made an hedge about
him, and about all that he hath on every side ?
Thou hast blessed the work of his hands, and his
substance is increased in the land.' Then he
throws down the gauntlet, and challenges God to
a test of His servant's piety. ' Put forth Thine
hand now, and touch all that he hath ; and see
whether he will not curse Thee to Thy face ! ' Jah
weh instantly accepts the challenge. He knows His
servant Job is ' a perfect and upright man,' who will
hold fast his faith through fortune good or ill. But
suspicion has been cast on the sincerity of his mot
ives. And the servant of God must be above sus
picion. Therefore He hands him over to the Satan's
power ; and ' he goes out from the presence of
Jahweh.' In the next scene we have the terrible sequel. It
is the day when Job's children are eating and drink
ing in their elder brother's house. That very morn
ing their father has ' sent and sanctified them,'
making atonement for all possible guilt incurred by
thoughtless sin, and his heart now rests in peace
within him, trusting his lot and theirs to the Al
mighty Love, when suddenly, with tragic swiftness,
messenger after messenger brings tidings of disaster,
utter and irreparable. His oxen, sheep, camels and
servants, and — last crushing blow — his sons and
daughters have been swept away, and Job is left
*5

226 The Poets of the Old Testament
with nought but his piety. The Satan had confi
dently counted on his casting that also from him,
and ' cursing God to His face.' But loss and sorrow
unveiled the full splendour of Job's faith. In the
midst of his desolation, notwithstanding his belief
that God had afflicted him thus, he ' imputed no
wrong to God,' but fell to the earth, and worshipped
Him. ' The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken
away ; blessed be the name of the Lord ! '
Again the heavenly Court is convened. The
heart of Jahweh is filled with quiet exultation be
cause of His servant's victorious faith. ' Hast thou
considered my servant Job, that there is none like
him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one
that feareth God and escheweth evil ? And still he
holdeth fast his integrity, though thou movedst me
against him, to ruin him without cause ! ' But the
Satan is as cynically suspicious as ever. Talk not
to him of human goodness ! It is all mercenary, a
matter of profit and interest, ' skin for skin,' measure
for measure. Yes ! Job can bear easily enough
the loss of goods and children. But touch himself,
' his own bone and flesh,' and see whether he will
not ' curse Thee to Thy face ! ' And anon we find
Job seated on the village ash-heap, smitten with a
slow and fatal disease, the most loathsome and
painful of all, a disease whose very name marked it
out as God's peculiar ' stroke ' for sin.1 To add to
1 l/Ji, leprosy, Ut. stroke.

The Patience of Job 227
his misery, his wife assumes the rdle of the Satan's
advocate. ' If this be all the reward of thy piety,
have done with it ! Curse God, that He may slay
thee outright, and release thee from thy sufferings!'
But Job's faith can stand the last extremity of trial.
Thus his answer is the classical expression even of
Christian resignation. ' Good shall we receive of
God, and not also evil (when He sends it) ? '
In due course the three friends cross the stage.
They have heard of the evil that has come upon Job,
and are gathered to comfort him. Nothing could be
finer than their first manifestation of sympathy.
' When they lifted up their eyes from afar, and knew
him not ' — his countenance was so marred — 'they lift
ed up their voice, and wept ; and they rent every one
his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their heads ;
and they sat with him upon the ground seven days
and seven nights, no one speaking a word unto him,
for they saw that his pain was very great.' But
this very sympathy for their friend appears to have
betrayed them into reflections on God's just rule,
that might well have seduced the purest heart into
impiety. Yet out of this trial, too, Job emerges as
gold from the furnace. And now the great Recon
ciler comes to vindicate His servant's faith. His
wrath is kindled* against the friends ' because they
have not spoken of Him the thing that is right,' as
Job has consistently done. He can accept them

228 The Poets of the Old T estament
only when they have offered sacrifice for their ' im
piety,' and Job has interceded on their behalf. But
his bearing throughout He approves as perfectly
right and good. And in token of His approval He
' changes Job's fortune,' restoring him twice as much
as he had before. Thus Job lives in honour and
respect among his fellows, having the joy of seeing
his sons and his sons' sons, even four generations,
until at last he dies, ' being old and full of days.'

CHAPTER XIV
The Spiritual Drama of Job
The prelude of the poem shows Job in the midst of
his desolation, dark thoughts of God's inscrutable
Providence surging in his soul, and his friends
gathered around to comfort him, but speechless in
their sympathy — his pain was so great. Seven
days thus pass in silent sorrow. But the warm touch
of friendship unseals the fountain of the heart ;
and the sufferer opens his mouth and pours out his
pent-up feelings. With consummate art the poet
leads up to the inevitable crisis. A long-drawn wail,
in which Job curses his day, because it brought him
forth to all this agony, and longs wistfully for death
and Sheol, where ' the wicked cease from troubling,
and the weary are at rest,' a hushed allusion to the
unnamed One who has ' given light to him that is in
misery, and life to the bitter in soul,' and at length
Job musters courage to address God as the One who
has ' hid his way,' and ' set an hedge about him,'
so that he can turn neither this way nor that (iii. 23).
The reverent spirit of Eliphaz is wounded by Job's
impatience, and still more pained by his contempt

2 3 o The Poets of the Old Testament
for God's wise rule. A man like Job, who has
strengthened and comforted others in their afflic
tion, might surely be expected to endure with cour
age when it touched himself. Was not the fear of
God his confidence, and his hope ' the integrity of
his ways ? ' And who ever heard of the innocent
man perishing, or the upright being cut off in the
midst of his days ? (iv. 3ft). No one, indeed, is per
fect before God. The very angels of heaven are
impure in His sight — how much more they ' that
dwell in houses of clay ! ' (iv. i2ff.). But God is
piteous and kind, eager to save the poor and needy.
Let Job but seek unto Him, and despise not His
chastenings ; and He will deliver him from all his
troubles. ' He who has made sore will likewise bind
up ; the hands that have wounded will also make
whole.' And no evil shall henceforth be per
mitted to touch the friend of God. In famine and
war he shall be saved from death. When pestilence
comes, he shall be free from fear. His tent will
have peace, and nothing shall be missed from his
fold. His seed will be great, his offspring even ' as
the grass of the earth ; ' and he shall come to the
grave in a ripe old age, ' like a shock of corn in its
season ' (v. 8ff.).
These glowing words are as full of tender sym
pathy as they are devout in tone. Eliphaz has
sought to avoid all that would hurt his friend's

The Spiritual Drama of Job 231
feelings. For he loves him, and longs to help him
in his troubles. But he lacks the breadth of mind,
and that full, deep understanding of the heart, so
necessary to the true comforter. Thus the only
effect of his speech is to drive Job into fierce remon
strance with God for His inexplicable cruelty. His
words have been rash, forsooth ! But if only his
sorrows were weighed, and his sufferings laid in
the balance, this rashness might well be excused ;
for his griefs would be found ' heavier than the sand
of the seas.' God's arrows are within him ; their
poison his spirit has drunk. God's terrors have
' marshalled themselves against him,' and he has no
strength to resist them (vi. iff.). His life has thus
become a weary round of unrelieved misery.
As a servant that longs for the shadow,
Or an hireling that looks for his wage,
I am heir to long months of affliction,
And nights of distress are doled out to me.
If I lie down to sleep, I say :
' O when will the day come for rising ? '
If I rise, ' O when comes the night ? '
And I'm wearied with tossings till dawn.
Clothed is my flesh with worms ;
My skin heals, and opens afresh.
My days pass swifter than shuttle ;
They are spent without ray of hope (vii. 2ff.).
And God will not leave him alone for a moment, but
sets a watch over him, as though he were a sea-mon
ster, or the dragon of the deep, and even when he

232 The Poets of the Old Testament
seeks some ease on his couch by night, scares him
with dreams and terrifies him with visions, so that a
death of strangling were better than pains like these.
In bitter parody of the eighth Psalm he asks : —
What is man that Thou honourest him,
That on him Thou settest Thy thought ;
That Thou visitest him each morning,
And triest him every moment ?
O when wilt Thou look away,
And leave me to swallow my spittle ?
Why set me up as a butt for Thee,
As a burden in Thy path?
Why not forgive my sin,
And make my wrong-doing to pass ?
For soon shall I lie in the dust ;
And Thou'lt seek me, but find me no more (vii. 17ft.).
The second of the friends, Bildad, is horror-
stricken at Job's impiety, and appeals in awed tones
to God's inflexible justice. But this only rouses
him to more daring invectives against the Almighty.
God is supreme Arbiter of justice, indeed. But
what if He be partial, or actually unjust, in His
judgments ? Who then can put himself in the right
with Him ? If they went to court together, there
was no daysman to stand between them, and see
justice done. And if God plied him with His deep
questions, how could he answer even one of a thous
and ? God is so great and terrible that, however
innocent he might be, he must yet bow prostrate
before Him, and plead guilty.

The Spiritual Drama of Job 233
God holdeth not back His wrath,
'Neath Him bow the helpers of Rahab ;
How can I answer Him then,
Or choose out my words against Him ?
Were I right, no answer I'd find,
But must kneel before my Judge ;
If I called Him to court, no answer He'd give, — *
No hope I have He would hear me (ix. I3ff.).
But Job is determined to fight the matter out.
Therefore in one burst of desperate defiance he
arraigns his almighty Antagonist. He has no
regard for his life. He spurns it as a hateful thing.
Let God therefore slay him, if He please ! He will
speak his mind. ' I am innocent ; but it is all one.
God destroyeth the innocent and the wicked alike.'
There is no justice in His rule. Injustice prevails
throughout the world. When plague comes, the
innocent are slain equaUy with the wicked ; and
God mocks at their despair. ' The earth is given
over to the power of the wicked ; and God blindeth
the eyes of its judges,' so that they can no longer
distinguish between right and wrong. And God
cannot deny the charge. ' If it be not He, who then
is it ? ' (ix. 2iff.).
It is useless for Job, therefore, even to attempt
to purify his ways.
1 Job here presents an alternative. If God summon Him to
court, he cannot answer ; if he summon God, He will not. (On
the reading, cf. Kittel, Biblia Hebraica.)

234 The Poets of the Old Testament
Though I wash me white with snow,
And cleanse my hands with lye,
Thou wilt plunge me anew in the mire,
That my very clothes abhor me (ix. 30I).

There seems no limit to Job's reckless defiance of the
Almighty. God is not merely unjust, but He is
devoid of all dignity and honour. He has not the
generosity to forgive his sins, and forget them ; but
like a petty inquisitor He spies on his minutest
actions, and delights to search out his faults (x. 3f£.).
He even rakes up the ashes of the long dead past,
and brings against him the sins of his thoughtless
youth. In his wild frenzy, Job imputes to God the
most exquisite refinement of cruelty ; for, as he
broods over his past happiness, the terrible thought
occurs to him that God fashioned him, and crowned
him with favour, and made his past life so joyous
and good — only to hurl him into these calamities
and so to aggravate his pain (x. 8ff.).
Job has thus declared war a I'outrance against the
theology of his age. He has not merely challenged
the orthodox doctrine that suffering is the sure
accompaniment of sin, but has even pronounced
God's reign unjust and dishonourable. If this were
Job's last word, or if the poem were logically con
sistent, its tendency might well appear atheistic.
For an unjust or immoral God would be no real God.
But the life which poetry reflects is more than logic.

The Spiritual Drama of Job 235
In times of darkness and doubt the feelings oscillate,
often from one extreme to the other. The poet has
depicted Job in such a state. He has lost his old
moorings, and plunges hither and thither on a ' sea
of troubles.' Now he sinks to the trough of the
wave. But again he rises on its crest to heights of
faith unknown to the unruffled orthodoxy of his
friends. And the movement of his soul is no vain
tumult of the waves. The current sets steadily
forward to God and faith ; and herein lies the real
interest of the poem.
Even in the earlier chapters Job begins to recoil
from his doubts. He has looked to his friends for
pity ; but they have failed him like the brooks that
come down full in spring-time when the ice and
snow melt, but dry up in the heat of summer, when
men most need their refreshing draughts (vi. I5ff.).
His only hope thus lies in God's mercy. In the
frenzy of his pain he has pictured Him as a very
monster of cruelty, who shows His hapless creatures
favour, only to add to their grief. But, in his craving
for a friend to pity him, he turns to God with a new
longing. He feels that the God with whom he once
walked so lovingly cannot abandon him to never-
ending misery. His present wrath will pass away,
and He will again have mercy on His friend, before
He lay him in the dust, where He shall find him no
more. Or even if He leave him to perish in his

236 The Poets of the Old Testament
misery, He will in after days remember him, and
repent, and come down to do him justice (vii. 21, etc.).
For the injustice of his friends drives him back
likewise on the justice of God. Innate courtesy and
affection have kept Eliphaz and Bildad from direct
assaults on Job's sincerity. But Zophar has no such
scruples, and aims a rude, stinging blow direct at
the heart. Job is wounded to the quick, and turns
upon him with biting sarcasm. No doubt, he and
his friends are ' the people,' and wisdom will die
with them ! But they are all three mere ' daubers of
lies ' and ' patchers of vanities,' who meanly ' respect
God's person,' and seek to justify His ways by
' maxims of ashes,' from which the life has gone, and
defences no more impregnable than ' breastworks
of clay ' (xiii. 4ft.). And he warns them that, if
they continue in this course, God will break out
upon them in His dreadful excellency ; for He is a
God that respecteth truth and straightforwardness
alone (xiii. iof.). With this new sense of God's
justice, Job longs to bring his case before His judg
ment seat. For if he could but win his way to God's
presence, he is persuaded, that fact alone would
prove his salvation ; inasmuch as no godless man
can come before Him (xiii. 16). And, if he once suc
ceeded in laying his case fairly before the Judge, he
feels sure he must be justified, for he is innocent of
all grave transgression. In spite of God's terrors,

The Spiritual Drama of Job 237
therefore, Job is determined to appear and plead
his case. God may slay him for his presumption ;
nevertheless, he will take his life in his hand, and will
maintain his ways before Him.
Silence, that I may speak ;
And come on me what may !
I will take my flesh on my teeth,1
And my life will I hold in my hands.
He may slay me — I hope for nought else ! —
Yet my ways I'll maintain to His face (xiii. 13ft.) .
Two conditions only he lays down : that God will
remove His terrors, so that he may be able to state
his case calmly ; and that He will be frank with
him, and tell him plainly wherein he has sinned.
But two things do not with me,
Then from Thy face will I hide not, —
Thy hand move far from my presence,
And let not Thy terror affright me !
Then call Thou, and I will answer ;
Or if I speak, do Thou reply I
What is the tale of my sins ?
My transgressions unfold to me! (xin. 2off.).
If Job's mind be thus in a state of flux, his friends
are rigid as ever. His daring utterances make
them the more convinced that he is concealing some
grievous sin in his heart. And they seek now to
1 The nD"?y, ' wherefore ? ' which introduces v. 14, arises by
mere dittography from the immediately preceding fflO ty. The
verse is no question, but an expression of almost superhuman
daring.

238 The Poets of the Old Testament
awaken him to a sense of his guilt by lurid descrip
tions of the fate of the wicked. In this second
Cycle the gentle Bildad is as merciless as Zophar.
Shall the earth be forsaken for thee,
Or the rock removed from its place ?
Nay, the light of the wicked goes out,
And the flame of his fire gleams no more.
The light is dark in his tent,
And his lamp is extinguished above him.
The steps of his strength shall be straitened,
And his counsel shall bring him low.
For his feet plunge into a net ;
He walketh over a pitfall.
A gin lays hold of his heel,
And a snare grippeth him fast.
A noose is hid in the ground,
And a trap is set in his way.
On every side terrors affright him,
And press him hard at his heels.
Ruin doth hunger for him,
And destruction awaiteth his falling.
Death's first-born shall prey on his members,
To the King of terrors shall drive him.
Belial shall live in his tent,
O'er his dwelling shall brimstone be scattered.
His roots underneath him shall rot,
And his branches above shall be withered.
His remembrance shall fade from the land,
And his name be forgotten abroad.
From light he is driven into darkness,
And out of the world is he chased.
No son, nor son's son, shall be left him ;
Where he sojourned, no remnant abides.

The Spiritual Drama of Job 239
Confounded are those that come after,
As those before were affrighted.
Lo ! such are the homes of the wicked,
This their place that know not God (xviii. 4ff.).
But warning and exhortation are equally in vain.
Job now moves on another spiritual plane from
his friends. He may at times turn to them, like
a hunted creature, in piteous appeal for sympathy
(xix. 2if.). Or, smarting under his wounds, he
may strike back, in savage fury, scorning their
' miserable comforts ' (xvi. 2) , or traversing their
whole airy scheme of life (ch. xxi.). But his mind
is increasingly pre-occupied with God Himself.
His friends treat him and his dead children as
signal examples of sinners brought to judgment.
But God knows he is innocent.
Even now in heaven is my Witness,
And my Voucher is there on high (xvi. 19).
And with hot tears in his eyes he implores God to
have pity upon him, and plead his cause with Him
self, seeing that Job cannot yet approach His
presence, and thus vindicate his innocence.
My friends scorn their friend,1
But to God mine eye flows out,
That He plead a man's cause with God,
And take man's part 'gainst his Friend ; 2
 ^ 
1 The stichos is evidently mutilated in the Hebrew ; but it
seems better simply to expand the reading as above than to alter
the text fundamentaUy.
2 We must here follow the minority of MSS, which read

240 The Poets of the Old Testament
For a few short years will pass,
And I go the way whence I shall not return (xvi. 2off.).
Or if God must delay his vindication till the distant
future, when he is there no more to witness it, let
Him only ' deposit a pledge with Himself,' for no
man can ' strike hands ' with God, and Job will
die in peace, assured that the victory will be his
(xvii. 3ff.).
This strange thought of God as man's Witness,
Advocate, and Surety against Himself bears Job
up on one of the loftiest flights of spirit in the Old
Testament. In his first sense of desolation he had
longed for death as his only release from misery.
Again and again he returns, fascinated, to the
thought. O that I had my request,
That God would grant me my wish !
That God would be pleased to crush me,
To let loose His hand, and destroy me !
Lo ! this 1 would be my comfort ;
And I'd glory in ruthless pain (vi. 8ff.).
But as he gazes into the misty depths of Sheol, the
horror of death seizes him. The place of the dead
is a land of darkness and murk,
A land of thick darkness and chaos,
Where the light itself is like pitch 2 (x. 22).
D1S"P3.1, 'between man and his Friend,' the parallelism identi
fying the Friend with God.
1 For "lil> read flNT, with a few MSS. and the Targum.
2 The last Une is overladen, but Ti)u7'i ?SK IDS is evidently
mere dittography.

The Spiritual Drama of Job 241
It is a land, too, whence there is no return.
Therefore in Sheol Job can no longer hope to see
the vindication of his rights, but must go down to
posterity as a godless man. The thought is intoler
able, and he revolts against it. The first gleam of
a hope beyond breaks from ch. xiv. — a passage of
almost midnight gloom. Job is mourning over man's
brief and troublous life and swift, untimely end.
There is hope of the tree, if it be cut down, that it
will sprout again. Its root may be old and decayed,
and its stock cut down to the ground ; yet at the
scent of water it will bud, and put forth boughs
like a fresh, young plant.
But man dieth, and is laid in the dust ;
He yieldeth his breath, and is gone1
As the waters fail from the sea,
And the river dries up and is vanished,
Till the heavens be no more, he shall not awake,
Nor be roused out of his sleep3 (vv. ioff.).
But the hope of the tree suggests to the despairing
soul a possible hope for man as well. ' If man too
may die and live again ! ' (v. 14) .3 God may per-
1 I have here followed the Versions in reading |*N1.
2 The opening stichos [of v. 12 is evidently misplaced. Duhm
has ingeniously suggested its transposition to v. 19, the closing
stichos of which is missing. This suggestion is followed in the
translation above.
3 This reflection is surely not ' a momentary interruption of
doubt ' (Davidson), but the theoretical principle of the hope
expressed in the foUowing verse. If only Job could be sure that
16

242 The Poets of the Old Testament
chance bring him down to Sheol, to hide him there
till His wrath is past, and then ' appoint him a set
time and remember him.' If he could only enter
tain this hope, he should wait patiently, and endure
the cruellest pains, all the days of his warfare, till
his release came ; and when at last God called, he
would answer joyfully, and forget the misery of
the past in the bliss of his new life with God (vv.
14L). It is a hope, however, too high for him to
grasp ; and he is plunged into deeper darkness
than before.
The waters wear the stones,
The floods wash off the dust ;
So Thou destroy est man's hope —
He sleepeth, and riseth no more.
Thou prevailest against him for ever ;
Thou changest his face, and dost banish him (vv. 19I).
And the lot of the dead man in Sheol is utterly
miserable. He knows nothing more of what passes
in this upper sphere. He cannot follow the fortunes
even of his dearest ones.
His sons are honoured, but he knoweth it not ;
They are brought low, but he marketh it not (v. 21).
Nor is the sleep of the dead unbroken rest. He
sleeps — ' perchance to dream ! ' Though he knows
nothing of his friends on earth,
man died and rose again, he would bear aU things bravely, ex
pecting the time of his release.

The Spiritual Drama of Job 243
Yet his own flesh hath pain,
And his own soul mourneth (v. 22).
But again Job rises on the wings of faith and
hope. The main part of ch. xix. is perhaps the
most pitiful passage in the whole poem. Bildad
has just drawn his terrible picture of the wicked
man's fate. And the sorely wounded sufferer
seeks to move his friends to pity by the spectacle
of all his accumulated woes : his glory stripped
away, his hope plucked up by the root, his path
enshrouded in darkness, his dearest friends estranged
from him, and no one to hear his cry and bring
him redress, for it is God that hath ' subverted his
rights ' (vv. 6ff.). But the friends are cold and
pitiless as God Himself (v. 22). In his despair Job
turns for his vindication to posterity. If only he
could write his defence in a book, or engrave it
on the rock with iron stylus and beaten lead,
future generations would read it, and judge justly,
and attest his righteousness (vv. 23L). But the
record on the rocks is impossible. Thus he turns
once more to his Witness in heaven.
But I know that my Goel liveth,
And as Afterman on my dust
He will stand as Witness before me,
And lift up His voice in my cause.
Then God shall I see in spirit,
Mine own eyes will look on His face ;

244 The Poets of the Old Testament
No more estranged shall I see Him.
My reins are consumed at the thought1 (vv. 25s.).
In this great expression of faith the action of the
drama reaches its height. It is not, indeed, the
hope of a blessed immortality with God that floats
before Job's vision. But he does cherish the confi
dence that he will rise from Sheol, and see God in
person, if it be only for a moment, on the day when
He stands upon the dust to vindicate his cause.
And though Job has not followed the gleam to
fuller light — the vision is so dazzling that he reels,
and falls back exhausted — he points other harassed
saints along the pathway of life eternal, and helps
them to see that ' the sufferings of this present

1 These verses present many difficulties in detail, and the best
translation can only be approximate. From the context, how
ever, three things seem clear — (1) Job expects no other end
of his miseries than speedy death ; (2) he looks to God to be
his Goel, the champion of his cause after death ; and (3) he
cherishes the'hopethat he will rise from Sheol to see the vindica
tion of his rights. Thus Duhm is probably correct in finding
,-15?, ' my Witness,' underlying *"liy,' my skin.' He has observed,
too, that for the meaningless flNf-IBM LXX suggests a ' lift
ing up ' of something. Duhm supplies ' His mark,' that is, the
recognized sign that God has accomplished the obhgations of the
Goel. But it seems more in harmony with Job's desire to render
' lift up His voice ' — to testify to his innocence. It is with reluct
ance I have left '"lB'SD-l, 'apart from my flesh,' translated as 'in
spirit.' So pure a thought of man's future existence seems quite
in advance even of Job's daring hopes. Buhl's suggestion, >"jnb>p.1,
" my Voucher ' (cf. xvi. 19), is attractive. But no certainty can
be reached on the point.

The Spiritual Drama of Job 245
time are not worthy to be compared with the glory
that shall be revealed in us.'
But for himself, too, a real and decisive change
is effected. He has not yet reached peace with
God. Still less has he solved the mysteries of
Providence. The most sustained impeachment of
God's ways is found, indeed, in these later chapters
(xxi. 7ff.). But the victory he has won over Sheol
gives him new courage to press his suit against the
Almighty. For Job seeks not merely the vindication
of his rights, but the restoration of personal friend
ship with God Himself. And he is now assured
that the God he has learned to trust with his cause
will not for ever elude his search. Thus in the third
Cycle of speeches he moves still further from his
friends. His only ^concern is where to find his God,
and how to reach His judgment-seat. The un
worthy charges of Eliphaz (ch. xxii.) thus fall on
heedless ears. If his friends continue to misjudge
him, the heavenly Vindicator will listen the more
attentively to his plea (xxiii. 6). And, as He
knoweth all his way of life, whatever test He may
apply, he shall come forth from the trial as gold
(xxiii. 10). He may still be troubled at heart when
he thinks of the afflictions the Almighty has laid
on him (xxiii. I5ff.). But no such threatenings
of the Divine holiness and wrath as Bildad and
Zophar still urge (xxv. iff. ; xxvii. 7ff.) can induce

246 The Poets of the Old Testament
him to put away his integrity from him. As long
as he lives he will hold fast his righteousness ; for
his conscience has nothing against him.
God forbid I should justify you I
Till I die will I yield not mine innocence.
My right I hold fast, and will not let it go ;
My heart hath no shame for my days (xxvii. 5f.).
The full statement of Job's case is finally made
in the great chapters already referred to as his
Apologia pro Vita Sua : ch. xxix., in which he
draws that most glorious picture of a good man
happy and honoured ; ch. xxx., in which he depicts
the intolerable miseries of his present state ; and
ch. xxxi., a passage that touches the high-water
mark of Old Testament morality, in which he sets
forth his claim of righteousness. He has done
nothing, he asserts, to merit these calamities. For
he has not merely kept his hands clean from gross
sins, but he has never even admitted the thought
of such things into his heart. He has nowhere
walked with vanity, nor let his foot hasten after
deceit ; at no time has he allowed himself to be
seduced into idolatry, or made gold his confidence.
No cruelty or inhumanity can be laid to his charge.
From his fields there rise no cries of those that are
pressed to work without money, or whose lives
are involved in hardship and peril. In the market
place and the courts he has acted towards all men

The Spiritual Drama of Job 247
with perfect honour and uprightness. He has con
sistently respected the cause of the poor, and even
of his servants, when they contended with him
at the gates, regarding all men alike as brethren
whom the one God fashioned in the womb with
himself. He has been the steadfast friend of the
needy, the friendless and the stranger, for whom
his door and hand were ever open. While the
light of God still shone within his tent, the stranger
did not lodge in the street, nor had the wayfarer
to search for a shelter. The loins of the needy
blessed him, for they were warmed with the fleece
of his sheep. The fatherless and the widow also
blessed him ; for he upheld their rights, and shared
with them his morsel. Even his enemies were not
beyond the range of his sympathies. For he never
rejoiced at the troubles that befell them, nor allowed
his heart to be lifted up with pride when evil found
them out. Nor did he seek to hide any secret sin
in his bosom, for fear of the vengeance of the multi
tude, or the open contempt of his clansmen. This,
he triumphantly declares, is his case, duly drawn
up, and attested by oath. And here he affixes his
tau — his cross or sign-manual. Let his Antagonist
now present his indictment ! Let him bring to
gether the full catalogue of his transgressions !
Then Job will carry it on his shoulder, and even
twine it as a chaplet around his forehead— so radiantly

248 The Poets of the Old Testament
conscious is he of his innocence. And in this sub
lime confidence he draws near as a prince to the
Divine presence (xxxi. 35ft.)1
In fine dramatic harmony with Job's stupendous
confidence, the storm-clouds gather, the thunder
roars and the lightnings flash, and Jahweh Himself
swoops down on the whirlwind to answer His ser
vant's challenge. In vision after vision He unrolls
before him the whole panorama of creation : the
heavens and the earth, and the place of the dead,
the home of light and darkness, the treasuries of
the snow and hail, the path of the lightning, the
mists and floods that refresh even the desert places
and the lands where no man is, the constellations
in their ordered march, and the living creatures in
their native freedom. Then with magnificent irony
He invites him to ascend the throne, and himself
assume the government of the Universe.
xxxviii. 2 Who is this that darkeneth counsel
By words without knowledge ?
3 Gird up now thy loins like a man —
/ will ask thee, and thou shalt inform me.
4 Where wert thou when I founded the earth ?
Declare, if thou knowest at all ?
5 Who set its measures, thou that knowest !
Or who stretched the line thereon ?

1 It has been shown above (p. 212) that Job's Apologia ought
really to end with this majestic approach to God.

The Spiritual Drama of Job 249
6 On what were its columns sunk,
Or who laid the corner-stone —
7 When the morning stars sang together,
And the sons of God shouted for joy ;
8 When the sea was poured out in birth,1
When forth from the womb it burst,
9 And I made the cloud its garment,
And thick darkness its swaddling-band ;
10 When I fixed a limit thereto,
And placed on it doors and bar,
11 And said, ' Thus far, but no further ;
Here shall thy proud waves rest ! '
12 Hast thou ever commanded the morning,
Or shown the dayspring its place,
13 To lay hold of the skirts of the earth,
And change it as clay 'neath the seal ? 2
19 Where is the way to light's dwelling,
And the darkness — where is its place,
20 That thou lead it back to its borders,
And show it the path to its home ? 3
16 Hast thou gone to the springs of the sea,
Or walked in the depths of the ocean ?

1 The reference to ' doors ' in tf. 8 is certainly premature.
The context demands rather a parallel to the ' bursting from the
womb ' in the second stichos. Beer has rightly found in D.W13
a transposition of letters for JTI.^3, foUowed by the dittography
D\ As a verb he suggests 13D, shut up ; but T\J?Z IJB'1, and
was poured out in birth, would be both an easier and a more
natural reading.
2 I have followed Duhm, etc., in omitting the pointless stanza
regarding the scattering of the wicked.
3 As vv. igf. clearly continue the thought of vv. i2f., and in
their present position in the Hebrew almost harshly intervene
between vv. 18 and 21, I have followed Duhm in transplacing
them.

250 The Poets of the Old Testament
17 Have the gates of death been shown thee;
Hast thou seen the warders of darkness ?
18 Hast thou ranged o'er the breadth of the earth ?
Tell, then, if thou knowest, its greatness !
21 And thou knowest, for then wast thou born,
And the years of thy life are so many !
22 Hast thou gone to the treasuries • of snow,
Or seen the store-chambers of hail,
23 That I've kept for the time of trouble,
For the day of battle and conflict ?
24 By what way parted the vapours,
Or scattered the showers o'er the earth ?
25 Who cleft for the floods a channel,
And a way for the flash of the thunders, —
26 To give rain on the desolate land.
On the desert where no man dwells,
27 To slake the waste and the wilderness,
That the thirsty land may yield verdure ?
29 Out of whose womb issued the ice ?
Who begat the hoar frost of heaven,1
30 That like stone are the waters congealed,
The face of the deep is frozen ?
31 Dost thou link the chain of the Pleiades,
Or loose the bonds of Orion ?
32 Dost thou lead out the Mazzaroth in their season,
Or guide the Bear with her young ones ?
33 Hast thou laid down the laws of heaven,
Or established its power o'er the earth ?
34 Dost thou lift up thy voice to the clouds,
That the flood of waters may answer thee ?
35 Dost thou send forth the lightnings on journeys,
And they say to thee, ' Here we are ! ' ?
36 Who inspired the clouds with wisdom,
Or endowed their dark masses with insight ?
1 The prosaic v. 28 is almost certainly a gloss on this stichos.

The Spiritual Drama of Job 251
37 Who spreads out the clouds in wisdom ?
Who pours forth the bottles of heaven,
38 When the dust runs into a mould,
And the clods cleave fast together ?
39 Dost thou hunt the prey for the lioness,
Or sate the needs of her young ones,
40 When they couch together in lairs,
And lie in wait in the thicket ?
41 Who provideth their food al even-tide,1
When their young ones cry unto God,
When they roar in distress for hunger,2
And wander in search of prey ?
:xix. 1 Hast thou taught the wild-goats their season,
Or watched the throes of the hinds ?
2 Dost thou count the months they fulfil,
Or appoint the time of their calving ?
3 They bow, they open the womb ;
They cast forth their labour-pangs.
4 Their young ones grow strong, they wax great in the
field ;
They go forth, and return no more.
5 Who sent out the wild ass free,
Or loosed the bonds of the onager,
6 Whose home I have made the desert,
And the salt land his lodging-place ?
7 He scorneth the din of the city ;
The shouts of the driver he hears not.
8 He scoureth the hills for his pasture ;
After every green thing he searcheth.

1 As the picture of the Uons is manifestly continued through
this stanza, it seems necessary to read 3"11?7, at evening, forHTV?,
to the raven (cf. Wright, Duhm, etc.).
2 A fine is here wanting in the Hebrew. The translation may
represent something hke the original text.

252 The Poets of the Old Testament
9 Will the wild-ox be willing to serve thee ;
Will he spend the night in thy crib ?
10 Wilt thou bind the cord on his neck,
And he plough the furrows behind thee ?
n Wilt thou trust him — his strength is so great —
And leave him to do thy labour ?
12 Hast thou faith he will ever return,
And bring thy seed to the threshing-floor ? 1
19 Hast thou given the horse his might,
And clothed his neck with the mane ?
20 Hast thou made him to leap as a locust,
With the dread of his terrible snorting ?
21 He paws in the valley, and neighs ;
In his might he goes forth to the fray.
22 He mocketh at death, and fears not,
And turneth not back from the sword.
23 The quiver rattleth upon him,
The flashing lance, and the javelin.
24 In his raging rush he swallows the ground,
And he swerves not to right or left.2
25 He starts at the sound of the trumpet ;
At the blast he sayeth, 'Aha!'
From afar he scenteth the battle,
The hurrahs, and the shouts of the captains.
26 Doth the hawk soar aloft by thy wisdom,
And spread her wings to the South ?
27 At thy word doth she set her nest high,
28 And lodge on the tooth of the rock ? 3
1 The description of the ostrich (vv. 13-18) is quite unlike the
other pictures, and is significantly omitted from the original LXX.
In common with most modern editors, I have treated the section
as a later element.
2 On the text here followed, cf. Beer (in Biblia Hebraica).
For the sake of the connexion.the verb ' starts ' has been inserted.
3 By the omission of a few irrelevant details, the whole passage

The Spiritual Drama of Job 253
29 From thence she spieth her prey,
Her eyes behold it afar,
30 Her young ones suck up the blood ;
And where slain are, there is she.
xl. 2 Will the caviller then contend with the Almighty ?
He that censureth God — let him answer !
8 Wilt thou discredit my judgment,
Making me wrong, that thou may est be right ?
9 Hast thou an arm like God ?
Canst thou thunder with voice like His ?
10 Put on now thy glory and majesty ;
In pomp and splendour array thee !
11 Then pour out the floods of thine anger,
And all that is proud bring thou low !
12 All that is lofty abase,
And tread down the wicked beneath thee !
13 Hide them together in dust ;
Their face's bind up in the darkness I
14 Then will I also acknowledge
That thy right hand winneth thee victory.
Job had asked of God that He lay aside the terrors
of His majesty, and meet him as Man with His
friend. God has not listened to this prayer. For,
to the reverent thought of the poet, God could not
be God without His glory. But amid the thunder
and lightning with which the Almighty is encircled,
there may be caught the ' still, small voice ' of the
friendly God. And Job hears it, and is saved.
Thus the drama closes in the peace of God, which
the world can neither give nor take away.
becomes an integral part of the picture of the hawk (cf. Bickell,
Duhm, etc.).

254 The Poets of the Old Testament
xl. 4 Behold, I am small ; and what can I answer Thee ?
My hand I lay on my mouth.
5 Once have I spoken, but will not repeat it —
Yea, twice, but will add no more.
xiii. 2 J know that Thou art all powerful,
And that nought is too high for Thee.
36 J spoke of things that I knew not,
Things all too wonderful — beyond my wisdom
5 By the hearing of the ear had I heard of Thee ;
But now mine eye doth see Thee.
6 Wherefore I remain in silence,
And repent in dust and ashes.1
1 On the arrangement of the verses, cf. supra, p. 216.

CHAPTER XV
The Book of Proverbs
We have found song to be a natural and spontaneous
expression of the human spirit, the origins of which
must be sought on the misty mountain-tops of
antiquity. But the simplest mental life is no mere
bundle of feelings. It consists equally of observa
tion and judgment. And as men have given uni
versal voice to their feelings in song, they embody
their judgments also in those terse, sententious
sayings we call proverbs. Struck out in some hour
of quiet meditation on life and its problems, or
amid the strife of tongues around the camp-fires
or by the gates, and constantly polished by the
attrition of daily use, these sayings are real crystalli
zations of the practical wisdom of peoples. The
individual proverb cannot indeed reflect the whole
universe of truth. But to maintain its place in
tradition, it must be a genuine mirror of experience,
holding forth one aspect of life in brief, pointed,
memorable language, that will appeal to the under
standing even of the simplest of the people.
In its original impulse, therefore, the proverb has
255

256 The Poets of the Old Testament
no kinship with poetry. It wholly lacks the passion
which is the heart's blood of the poet. Yet, to
win its way into the imagination, the proverb is
compelled to use the simple, sensuous language of
poetry. Abstractions are alien to the spirit of
proverbs. Instead of inculcating general principles
of timely thrift and prudence, for example, they
urge concrete examples, ' A stitch in time saves
nine,' or ' Make hay while the sun shines.' Thus
proverbs are almost as rich as poetry in figurative
language. And often the proverb passes the
borderland, and assumes the rhythmical form,
the balance of lines, and even the rhyme of poetry.
In the proverbial treasure-store of all nations are
found numerous examples of such prudential
maxims that can be distinguished from pure poetry
only by the slower pulse of feeling.
The near kinsmen of Israel have been justly celeb
rated for the wealth and brilliance of their proverbs.
In the Old Testament the wisdom of the Bedouin
is alone held worthy to be matched with Solomon's
(1 Kings iv. 30), while Edom is honoured as the
true homeland of wisdom (Jer. xlix. 7 ; Obad. 8) .
The extant literature of Arabia is singularly rich
in proverbial lore. And so fertile a mother of
wisdom is the keen, shrewd Semitic mind that to
the present day, when more civilized nations have
lost the art of coining proverbs, the common speech

The Book of Proverbs 257
of the Bedouin sparkles with gems of polished wit,
and incisive criticisms of life and manners. The
people of Israel enjoyed a full portion of the racial
inheritance. From the long distant past there
flowed among them a perennial stream of pregnant
aphorisms, continually enriched by the sententious
contributions of wise men like Solomon, until it
reached the dimensions of a broad flood, from which
our Book of Proverbs has been mainly drawn.
The generic name for proverb in Hebrew — mashal
— implies likeness or comparison. The typical pro
verb is allied, therefore, on the one side to the
riddle, and on the other to the parable. The riddle
may be described as a veiled proverb, and the
proverb as an open riddle. Both are really pointed
similes suggested or unfolded. The story of Sam
son's wedding-feast (Judg. xiv. I2ff.) shows how
easily one form may pass into the other. And no
doubt many popular proverbs owe their origin to
riddles put forth on just such festive occasions as
this. The essence of the parable is the same.
For the point of the parable lies equally in com
parison. ' The kingdom of heaven is like unto a
man that sowed good seed in his field,' etc. Thus
the Hebrews describe both proverb and parable by
the common term mashal. The parable is simply
an elaborated proverb ; and the proverb on its part
is a real parable in germ. The Book of Proverbs *7

258 The Poets of the Old Testament
yields on every page material for the fully developed
parable. And in certain sections of the Book —
for example, the portraits of the sluggard (xxiv.
3off.) — the transition is clearly to be traced.
The quintessence of the mashal is preserved in the
old proverb of Gen. x. 9 — ' Like Nimrod a mighty
hunter before Jahweh ' — the rudimentary structure
of which may be closely paralleled in many Bedouin
sayings of both ancient and modern times. An
approach to the poetical distichs of the classical
proverb is found in the popular saying quoted by
Ezek. xvi. 44 — ' as the mother, the daughter ' —
while from the primitive simile there emerges also
such clean-cut ethical apothegms, or terse illustra
tions of general principles, as the ' proverb of the
ancients ' cited in 1 Sam. xxiv. 14 — ' out of the
wicked cometh forth wickedness ' — or the grave
moral maxim urged against the prophets' words of
cheer and counsel (Jer. xxxi. 29 ; Ezek. xviii. 2) : —
The fathers have eaten sour grapes,
And the children's teeth are set on edge.
But comparison may be drawn by contrast as well.1
Thus the simile leads by another path to the
antithetic type of proverb so widely in vogue during
the more literary age. Under this head may be
subsumed the simple monostich of 1 Sam. x. 12,
1 ' Contrar thingis evermair
Discoverings of the tother are,' — Barbous's Bruce,

The Book ot Proverbs 259
repeated in xix. 24, ' Is Saul also among the pro
phets ? ' — the point of which lies in the shock of
pained surprise with which Saul's friends saw so
distinguished, sane, and prosperous a young man
give way to prophetic frenzy. But the full force
of the antithetic proverb was reached only when
it assumed the couplet form. A certain stage in
this development is marked by the barbed arrow
shot by Ahab : —
Let him not boast that girdeth on (his armour)
As he that putteth off (i Kings xx. n).
A further step in advance may be noted in that
other pathetic proverb quoted by Ezekiel from the
lips of his contemporaries : —
The days drag on ;
Yet the vision faileth (Ezek. xii. 22).
But only by sedulous cultivation in the school of
' the wise ' did this latter type acquire the perfect
balance of thought and finely polished mould that
we associate with the Proverbs of the Bible.
The father of Hebrew wisdom is Solomon. In
Israelite tradition he is accredited with no fewer
than five thousand proverbs. His name thus
became a symbol for wisdom ; while proverbs of a
certain literary stamp were technically known as
' proverbs of Solomon.' His wisdom apparently
consisted in refinements of the more popular proverb

260 The Poets of the Old Testament
—acute reflections on life and conduct, passing
perhaps, like the later wisdom of Ahikar, into moral
fables or apologues, lit up by striking illustrations
from many fields of Nature (i Kings iv. 32f.). The
wisdom of the classical period was more self-con
scious in its aims and methods. On the pages of
the greater prophets ' the wise ' appear as a separate
guild of spiritual advisers, whose ' counsel ' ranked
in influence with the ' law ' of the priests and the
' word ' of the prophets (Isa. xxix. 14 ; Jer. xviii.
18 ; etc.). In the post-exilic age the " wise men '
virtually replaced the prophets as moral guides and
teachers. Thus the proverbs which formed one
part of their equipment are cast in a distinctively
ethical mould, for instruction in ' righteousness,
judgment, and uprightness ' (Prov. i. 3). But the
wise men of Israel versed themselves not in proverbs
alone. They played the part of moral preachers
as well. Taking their stand in the market-place,
or at the corners of bustling streets, or by the gates
where the people congregated, like the majestic
figure of Wisdom herself, they appealed to the
simple ones to embrace wisdom, and to fools to turn
from their folly and live (Prov. i. 2off.). Their text
book was ' the law of the Most High,' to the study
of which their whole mind was given, and from
which they drew the cardinal principles of life.
But the wise man had likewise his personal revela-

The Book of Proverbs 261
tion of truth, as he ' prayed before the Most High,
and made supplication for his sins.' And other
wisdom he learned in the school of experience, as
he wandered about the world, ' travelling through
strange countries,' mingling with kings and princes,
and ' testing the good and evil among men ' (Ben
Sira, xxxix. iff.).
The original type of proverb is most faithfully
preserved in the first three chapters of the ' Heze-
kiah ' coUection (ch. xxv.-xxvii.) .
Even in outward form these chapters stand out
clear from their context. The main body of the
Book of Proverbs consists of antithetic couplets.
But in this small group the older style of mashal
prevails. Some of these similes are exquisitely
cut and finished, e.g. : —
As apples of gold on baskets of chased silver
Is a word in due season (xxv. ii).
As silver overlaying an earthen potsherd
Are flattering words and a wicked heart (xxvi. 23).
Others are diamonds in the rough :—
A whip for the horse, a bridle for the ass,
And a rod for the back of fools (xxvi. 3).
The door turneth on its hinges,
And a sluggard on his back (xxvi. 14).
Though thou bray a fool in a mortar,1
His folly will not depart from him (xxvii. 22).
1 The additional words of the Mass. text, " with a pestle
among bruised corn,' are an evident gloss, marring the symmetry
of the proverb.

262 The Poets of the Old Testament
But in spirit also these proverbs differ from the
general tenor of the Book. For the wisdom here
inculcated is mainly shrewd worldly prudence,
couched in homely maxims that remind us of Hesiod,
often with a touch of real pathos, as in the com
parison of a faithless friend in time of trouble with
' a bad tooth and a tottering limb ' (xxv. 19), or a
man that wanders from his home with ' a bird
wandering from its nest ' (xxvii. 8), sometimes also
expanding into broad humour, as in the pictures
of the sluggard : —
Saith the sluggard, ' There's a roarer in the street,
A lion among the highways' (xxvi. 13).
The sluggard burieth his hand in the dish ;
He is too slothful to lift it to his mouth again (xxvi. 15).
In these respects the proverbs bear a close resem
blance to the popular wisdom of other nations. It
is significant, as Davidson has pointed out, that
these three chapters ' comprise almost all the
proverbs that we still use,' e.g., ' iron sharpeneth
iron,' ' as face answereth to face in water,' ' the dog
is returned to his vomit,' ' thou shalt heap coals of
fire on his head,' and the joy of ' good news from a
far country.' J The conditions of life reflected in
this section are also relatively simple. Various
grades of social rank are recognized. And the
1 A. B. Davidson, art. Proverbs, in the Ency. Brit., Ninth
Edition.

The Book of Proverbs 263
ambition to ' go up higher ' is held to be honourable
and right. But the ideal state is still found in
each one cultivating his own fig-tree, and looking
well to his flocks and herds (xxvii. i8ff.). The
chapters appear, therefore, to have formed an
originally independent collection of miscellaneous
proverbs, the beginnings of which run back probably
to the regal period, though in its present complete
form the collection presupposes a considerably later
date. For intermingled with more primitive ele
ments we find, even in the three opening chapters,
lofty moral apothegms (e.g. xxv. 2if.), in which
the influence of the greater prophets is evident.
And the rest of the collection (ch. xxviii., xxix.)
bears the genuine stamp of ' the wise.' The older
comparative mould here yields to the pointed anti
theses of deliberate art. The temper of these pro
verbs, too, is distinctively ethical. The great
issues of life are those of good and evil. And the
standard of moral judgment is the Law. The wise
are they who keep the law ; the foolish such as
despise the law (xxviii. 4ff.). However diverse,
then, the age and origin of the various component
parts, the ' Hezekiah ' collection as a whole must be
dated after the promulgation of the Law — somewhere
in the course of the fourth century.1
1 The relative antiquity of the proverbs in ch. xxv.-xxix. was
first clearly recognized by Davidson in the article alluded to.

264 The Poets of the Old Testament
The main body of ' proverbs of Solomon ' which
form the real kernel of the Book may reasonably
be assigned to the same general period. These pro
verbs show still more distinctive marks of ' the
wise.' The collection is composed exclusively of
couplets,1 the first half (x.-xv.) mainly in antithetic
parallelism, and the remainder (xvi.-xxii. 16) in
the more easily flowing synonymous or synthetic
measure adapted to moral exhortation. The
spiritual tone of these chapters is likewise that of
developed wisdom. The controversies of the pro
phetic age are past, and the vital principles of
ethical monotheism assumed as the basis of faith
and life. Jahweh is the one righteous Lord and
Ruler of the Universe, before whom all must bow
in humble reverence and ' fear.' While the Law
His position has been accepted in general by later scholars hke
Driver, Cornill, Frankenberg, and Nowack. The objection
raised by Kuenen— that the poetic rhythm of these chapters
shows ' a less degree of purity and beauty ' (Hist. crit. Onder-
zoek, III. 73) — seems to the present writer to point still more
strongly in the direction suggested. Toy finds ' the more human
and pointed tone of the second group ' to accord more closely
with the style of Ben Sira (Inter. Crit. Comm., p. xxvii.). But
the prevailing synthetic mould of the proverbs in Ben Sira recalls
rather the latter half of the first group (xvi.ff .), and the appended
' sayings of the wise.'
1 The only exception is found in xix. 7, where the text is
evidently mutilated. For the third stichos of the Mass. text,
LXX reads the complete couplet : —
He that works much mischief brings about harm ;
And he that useth provoking words shall not escape.

The Book of Proverbs 265
is set forth as the standard of conduct, the privileges
and hopes of the people of the Law are no longer
confined to Israel. The view-point of the proverbs
is universalistic in the fullest sense of the term.
Religion is a real ethical relation between God
and the soul that ' fears ' Him. In details of moral
life, these chapters show close dependence on the
prophets. The wisdom they enshrine is largely,
indeed, an application of prophetic principles to
the daily round of life. But the sphere within
which they move is the broad world of the more
liberal spirits of later Judaism. The centre of this
world is naturally Jerusalem — but a Jerusalem
watered by many streams of influence from other
regions. The holy city is now the theatre of a
rich and varied civilization, with all the comforts,
luxuries, social distractions, and vices that accom
pany such development. But the sympathies of
the wise reach far beyond the narrow circle of their
city and people. They mingle freely with foreign
kings and princes, enjoying their hospitality, and
offering them sage counsel for the welfare and
prosperity of their domains.1 To the sages of Israel
1 The frequent references to kings and princes is often held
to prove the pre-exiUc origin of these collections. But the same
phenomena appear in undeniably late sections of Proverbs (e.g.,
in the praise of Wisdom, vni. 1 5f .) and throughout the Wisdom
of Ben Sira, i.e. as late as 180 b.c. "The latter book bears wit
ness to the knowledge of the wider world possessed by the sages
as the result of travel, reading, and reflection.

266 The Poets of the Old Testament
the whole circumference of human life is God's ;
and their ambition is to bring all within the influence
of the Divine.
In these two collections, then, we have a com
pendium of Jewish wisdom at its purest and best.
The value of such is priceless. As crystallized
deposits of religious reflection, they help to fill in
the background of poetry and prophecy, revealing
to us the essential unity of religious life in Israel.
But the proverbs have their own intrinsic worth.
For spiritual insight and enthusiasm they cannot,
indeed, be compared with the splendid visions of
the prophets or the inspired devotion of the Psalm
ists. We move here on the common planes of life.
In general, the motive of the proverbs is prudential,
and even utilitarian. They show an undisguised
appreciation of the good things of this world — its
prizes, honours, riches, and pleasures — and point
us to the best ways of winning these. But the
tone of the Book is honest and true. The proverbs
have a due sense of the Divine dignity and glory
of life. Man's chief end is found, not in the abund
ance of his possessions, but in the fear of the Lord.
And all other good things are related to this. For
only as he governs his life by the fear of the Lord
can man attain to true happiness. In this respect
the proverbs of the Old Testament outshine all
other prudential literature. At their highest levels

The Book of Proverbs 267
they draw very near to the pure standard of Christ.
The proverbs were evidently a favourite study
with Him and His apostles. And not a few of the
choicer maxims of the Book have been woven into
the texture of Christian teaching. As the broad
principles of moral conduct remain essentially the
same in both Old and New Testaments, the proverbs
are still a true vade mecum for the man who wishes
to lead an honest and fruitful life. Nowhere is
sound wisdom more pithily commended ; and
nowhere have we such powerfully drawn pictures
of the ways and the end of folly. The proverbs lead
us on the straight, clear path of righteousness. And
even while they draw us aside to reveal the beauties
of the journey, or to give us glimpses of the joys
that await us at the end, they may be more win
some in their appeals than the pure persuasion of
more abstract principles.
These earlier collections are governed by no
fixed design. Occasionally proverbs bearing on
the same subject are strung together. But for the
most part the methods of the collector are quite
arbitrary. One chapter may embrace the most
heterogeneous sayings. And not unfrequently the
same proverb is repeated in different sections of
the Book, now in identically the same form, and
again with some slight difference in detail. To
read through the proverbs is thus almost like

268 The Poets of the Old Testament
wandering in a trackless forest, or sauntering
through the mazes of an ill-assorted picture gallery.
A certain approach towards methodical arrange
ment may be observed in the two groups of ' sayings
of the wise ' appended to the nucleus of the Book
(xxii. 17-xxiv. 22 ; xxiv. 23-34), where a series of
weighty moral maxims is gathered into little clusters
resembling the moral homilies of Ben Sira. A
somewhat similar collection of expanded proverbs
has found its way into the heart of the Introduc
tion (iii. 27-35 ; vi. 1-19). The hortatory style is
here still more developed, while the second part of
the collection (vi. i6ff .) offers an interesting example
of the numerical proverb so characteristic of the
' words of Agur,' and certain chapters of Ben
Sira and the Sayings of the Fathers.1 But the
movement of thought reaches full volume and
strength only in the sustained exhortation of the
introductory chapters (i.-ix.). The style of this
section is that rather of rich rhetorical prose than
of finely polished poetry. With a grave sense of
the solemnity of life, the wise man urges his youthful
hearers, now in the affectionate tones of a father
graciously counselling his children, and again by
lurid pictures of Folly and her ways, to choose
wisdom, and cleave to her in sincerity and truth,
that their path through life may be as that of the
1 Cf. Ben Sira, xxv. iff. ; xxvi. 5ft. ; Pirke Aboth, v. iff.

The Book of Proverbs 269
shining light, ' that shineth more and more unto
the perfect day.' The climax of the whole splendid
piece is reached in ch. viii., where Wisdom appears
at the right hand of God in heaven, His loved com
panion and associate when He wrought His mighty
works of old, and now, as she stands at the gates,
and implores men to come unto her and live, the
very Word of God and the Light of God.
The two former groups are clearly subsequent
in date to both collections of ' proverbs of Solomon,'
and may be assigned to the end of the fourth cen
tury. The introductory chapters are still later in
origin. The decadent language, the highly rhe
torical style, and such long-drawn syntactical
periods as ii. iff., point to the middle or end of the
third century B.C., when Greek influence swept
over the thought and life of Israel. The speculative
interest of the chapters also strongly suggests con
tact with the spirit of Greece. To the same fer
tilizing influence we may most reasonably ascribe
the curiously enigmatical, bitter, and sceptical
' words of Agur ' (ch. xxx.), which are saved from
pure agnosticism only by the robust Hebrew faith
that survived all the shocks and strains of circum
stance. The grave, yet kindly counsel of the old
Queen-mother of Lemuel (xxxi. 1-9) is an interesting
specimen of Arabic wisdom transplanted to Pales
tine, And the Book closes with the famous alpha-

270 The Poets of the Old Testament
betical poem in praise of the virtuous woman
(xxxi. 10-31), a picture whose colouring is unmis
takably Oriental, but which is cherished equally
by the daughters of the West, as embodying for
all time the ideal of the good and loyal housewife.
These three sections form an Appendix, added
soon after the introductory chapters. As a whole,
therefore, the Book can hardly have been completed
before the close of the third century. A later date
is precluded by the Wisdom of Ben Sira (c. 180
B.C.), which shows clear dependence on Proverbs
in all its parts.

CHAPTER XVI
The Good Man of the Proverbs
In even the choicest anthology of proverbs it is
vain to search for any consistent philosophy of life
— a moral universe centring round some fixed
principle — as in Aristotle and modern ethical
systems. The world of proverbs is rather a cluster
of shining points of light, with no discoverable
order or harmony. A certain unity is given to the
Proverbs of the Bible, however, by their vital
relation to wisdom. Their authors are ' wise men,'
who seek thus to instruct their readers in the ways
of wisdom. And the wisdom of Proverbs is not
the mere intellectual subtlety of the Greeks, nor
yet the worldly shrewdness, sagacity, and savoir
faire of early Hebrew sages, but the practical moral
principle of the good. The wise man is he who
directs his life worthily and well. His wisdom is
thus virtually identical with goodness. And the
roots of both lie in religion. The keynote of the
Proverbs is struck in the opening chord. ' The
fear of Jahweh is the beginning of wisdom ' (i. 7).
The same note rings through the whole Book,

272 The Poets of the Old Testament
One may be treading the commonest paths of duty,
adjusting the balances in the bazaar, or following
the oxen at the plough, or again tasting the cups
of pleasure in the banquetting-hall or at home,
when the angelus bell sounds out its heavenly peal,
recalling one's thoughts to the great end of human
life — the ' fear of Jahweh,' which is alike ' the begin
ning of wisdom ' and the eternal ' fountain ' of all
good (ix. 10 ; x. 27 ; xiv. 26f ., etc.) . x For in Proverbs
religion and daily life are linked in the closest wed
lock. The soaring piety of the Psalms raises us
often far beyond the world and its myriad interests.
But the wise men of Proverbs have their feet firmly
planted on mother earth. With them religion is
rather a duty than a joy, a motive principle of
honourable conduct than delight in God's love and
truth. The aim of the Proverbs is, in fact, to in
culcate on the minds of the young the vital principles
of duty, that by walking on the paths of righteous
ness they may make the most and the best of life.
The most conspicuous part of life is played on
the open stage of business. And the tone of the
Proverbs in this whole region is singularly sane and
strong. There is here nothing of that maudlin
piety which counts worldly success a matter of
1 In the Wisdom of Ben Sira, the ' fear of the Lord ' is not
merely the ' beginning ' or the ' root,' but also the ' crown ' and
the ' perfect fullness ' (ir\ti<Ti).ovtj) of wisdom — it is really the whole
of wisdom (i. i4ff.).

The Good Man of the Proverbs 273
moral indifference. To the wise men of Proverbs
business is a Divine calling, and riches and honour
are the just rewards of diligence. At the very
beginning of the collection this healthy tone is
set : —
A slack hand bringeth poverty ;
But the hand of the diligent maketh rich.
He that reapeth in summer is a wise son ;
But he that sleepeth in harvest is a shameless one (x. 41.).
The same principle is suggested in the quaint
picture : —
Where no oxen are, the crib is clean ;
But much increase cometh by the strength of the ox (xiv. 4).1
The duty of unremitting diligence is urged again
in the short eclogue appended to the ' sayings of
the wise ' (xxvii. 23ff.) : —
Look well to the state of thy flocks,
And give good heed to thy herds ;
For riches last not for ever,
Nor is wealth from age to age.
When hay-time is over, and aftermath shorn,
And the herbs of the mountain are garnered,
Lambs shalt thou have for thy clothing,
And goats as the price of thy field ;
Abundance of milk for thy food,
And living enough for thy maidens.
1 This fine saying has stimulated one of Walter C. Smith's
noblest Thoughts and Fancies, as well as tender proverbs among
various nations. It is possible, however, that we should give ~)2
its usual interpretation of ' corn,' and read DBS for D-13ijt, thus :
Where no oxen are, no corn is got ;
But much increase cometh by the strength of the ox.
18

274 The Poets of the Old Testament
But wealth is valued also for the position it gives
men, and the opportunities it brings of influence
and helpfulness.
The rich man's wealth is his strong city ;
But poverty is the ruin of the poor (x. 15).
The poor man is hated even by his neighbours ;
But the rich hath many friends (xiv. 20).
Seest thou a man skilled in his business, —
In the presence of, kings shall he stand,
He shall not stand in presence of the obscure (xxii. 29) -1
To bring its blessing, however, wealth must be justly
gained. For the world of business is Jahweh's,
the balance and scales are His, and the weights in
the bag (xvi. ii). Therefore ' justice and judgment
are more acceptable to Him than sacrifice ' (xxi.
3), while meanness and dishonesty are an abomina
tion. Divers weights, divers measures —
Abominations to Jahweh are both of them (xx. 10).
Far better poverty, therefore, than unjust gain.
Better a little with righteousness
Than great revenues with injustice (xvi. 8).
Better the poor that walketh in his integrity
Than the man crooked in his ways, though rich (xxviii, 6),
For character is more than riches.
1 The usual distich form is here departed from. It has there
fore been suggested that the second stichos should be omitted.
One would rather beheve that the original parallel to the first
stichos has dropped out, and that the second and third fit into each
other.

The Good Man ofthe Proverbs 275
A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches;
And to be held in favour is better than silver and gold (xxii. i).
Character abides ; but ill-gotten gains take wings
and fly away (xxiii. 4f.), or lead but to sin and ruin.
Treasures of wickedness profit nothing ;
But righteousness delivereth from death (x. 2).
Wealth gathered in haste grows small ;
But that which is gradually amassed increaseth (xiii. 11).
He that getteth treasures by a lying tongue
Pursueth a bubble to snares of death (xxi. 6).
Thus.while they commend the diligence that maketh
rich, the Proverbs warn men, as gravely as Jesus
did, against trust in riches.
He that trusteth in his riches shall fall ;
But like a green leaf shall the righteous flourish (xi, 28).
An honest man will be blessed abundantly ;
But he hath hasteth to be rich shall not go unpunished (xxviu. 20) .
The fair picture of the good man prosperous and
honoured is set in vivid relief by a series of brilliantly
drawn sketches of the contrast, which are as true
to life to-day as when they were drawn by the
wise men of Israel. The most effective, perhaps,
is the inimitable portrait of the sluggard, lying
lazily in bed, when he should be up and doing, pray
ing for ' a little more sleep, a little more slumber,'
until suddenly ' poverty cometh upon him as a
robber, and want as a man in arms ' (vi. gff.), or
' burying his hand in the dish, too slothful to lift
it to his mouth again ' (xix. 24; xxvi. 15), afraid to

276 The Poets of the Old Testament
plough by reason of the cold in winter, and finding
nothing when he looks for harvest (xx. 4), or kept
from business by fears of danger in the streets,
thus allowing the prizes of life to slip from his
grasp (xxii. 13; xxvi. 13). Other fine portrayals
of character are those of the fool whose eyes are ' in
the ends of the earth,' too engrossed in Utopian
schemes to attend to the duties of the near and
present (xvii. 24), the lover of pleasure, who gives
to indulgence in ' wine and oil ' the precious hours
of business, and thus never can be rich (xxi. 17),
the thoughtless man who becomes surety for a
stranger he knows nothing of, and must one day
' smart for it ' (xi. 15 ; xvii. 18, etc.), the litigious
who hurries his case to court, reckless of the loss and
shame he must suffer ' in the end thereof ' (xxv.
8f.), and the busybody who meddles with other
people's affairs, only to find he has ' caught a dog
by the ears ' (xxvi. 17). Into pictures like these a
strong dash of humour is often thrown. But the
Proverbs assume a darker tone when they paint
the portraits of the sharp dealer with his ' Bad,
bad ! ' while he haggles in the market, and his proud
boasting when he strikes his bargain, and returns
home with his capture (xx. 14), the remover of the
ancient landmark, who schemes to bring the whole
world under his control (xxii. 28), the monopolist,
who holds up the corn, regardless of the sufferings

The Good Man of the Proverbs 277
he inflicts on the needy (xi. 26), the disinheritor of
the fatherless (xxiii. 10), the oppressor of the poor,
who thus reproacheth his Maker (xiv. 31), and the
open bandit, who preys upon the simple and the
helpless, counting wrong-doing but sport for himself
and his comrades (iv. 16; x. 23; xxii. 22L, etc.).
But man's duties to his fellows are not confined
to business honesty. Jahweh has made all men
alike (xxii. 2). And He means them to live together
in friendship and harmony. Thus the wisdom of
Proverbs embraces also the courtesies and civilities
of polite society. The good man of the Proverbs
is a ' very perfect ' gentleman.1 He not merely
avoids the least appearance of evil, but he puts far
1 Toy has noted among the more conspicuous quaUties omitted
in Proverbs the virtues of courage, fortitude, moderation in
thought, self-sacrifice, and inteUectual truthfulness, which fill
so large a place in Greek ethical systems. He justly observes,
however, that ' the silence of the sages (and of Old Testament
generaUy) respecting these traits is doubtless to be interpreted
as indicating not that they did not exist among the Israehtes,
but chiefly that the moralists attached more importance to other
quaUties as effective forces in the struggle of life ; the last-men
tioned virtue, further, belongs to a mode of thought which was
foreign to the Jewish mind. The obUgation to seek truth is
recognized in i. 2 ; in. 3, etc., but the " truth " is that law of con
duct obedience to which secures prosperity and happiness. Of
beauty as an element of Ufe nothing is said ; the failure to men
tion it is due not to the rehgious character of the Book (for much
ofthe material of Proverbs is non-religious), but to the fact that
the Jewish sages had not been trained to distinct recognition of
the value of the beautiful in the conduct of Ufe ' (Inter. Crit. Comm.,
p. xiii.).

278 The Poets of the Old Testament
from him all vulgarity and forwardness, ostentation
and self-advertisement, sharp speaking, scandal-
mongering, scoffing and winking at sacred things,
and whispering and sowing seeds of discord behind
the scenes. The wise man is restrained in spirit,
believing that he who masters his spirit is stronger
than he ' that taketh a city ' (xvi. 32) ; he is peaceful
and humble, ' slow to anger ' (xiv. 29, etc.),
guarding his mouth as the very citadel of the life
(xiii. 3), silent when that is fitting, but master of
the pleasant word that is ' sweet to the soul and
healing to the bones ' (xvi. 24). He thinks not evil
of his neighbour, but rather believes and hopes the
best of him. Instead of harping on offences, to
the separation even of the chief of friends, he covers
up transgressions, letting bygones be bygones,
thus restoring affection (xvii. 9). He is no flatterer,
for he that flatters but ' spreadeth a net ' for the
ruin of his neighbour (xviii. 8 ; xxix. 5). But he
knows full well the influence of the ' gentle word '
to pacify anger (xv. 1, 4, 18, etc.), and does not even
disdain the persuasion of the ' gift in secret ' (xxi.
14). He will not withhold from his neighbour the
good that is due him, nor put him off by vain
promises for the morrow (iii. 27L). He is a lover
of friendly visits, though his foot is not too often
to be found in his neighbour's house (xxv. 17). And,
realizing the power of the ' merry heart ' to gladden

The Good Man ofthe Proverbs 279
the countenance, and so to flood the world with
sunshine, he enjoys the pleasures of the banquet
betimes. But he avoids all excess and display. At
table he takes a modest place, feeling how much
better it is to be called up higher than to be degraded
from the seat of honour (xxv. 6f.). He is temperate
in eating and drinking. There is nothing in the
Proverbs of that spirit of riot and licence which
runs through the banquetting-songs of the Greeks.
The wise man ' puts a knife to his throat,' if he be
given to appetite (xxiii. 2). He is especially careful
of the cup. He knows what evil strong drink has
wrought, and not merely restrains himself, but
urges upon his readers the deadly perils of intem
perance : — Wine is a mocker, strong drink a brawler ;
He that erreth thereby is not wise (xx. i).
Who have woe ? Who have pain ?
Who have strifes ? Who complaints ?
Who have wounds without cause ?
Who have redness of eyes ?
They that stay long over wine,
And give themselves oft to the mixture.
So look not on wine when 'tis red,
When it gleameth bright in the cup,
And goeth down smooth in the mouth I
At the last it bites like a snake,
And stings like an adder (xxiii. 2gff.).
Thus the wise man is a centre of gracious influence
to the whole circle of his acquaintance. But far
beyond that his goodness flows. His heart reaches

2 80 The Poets of the Old Testament
out in loving sympathy to all God's creatures. He
is a true friend and comforter of the suffering,
though he will not intrude upon the heart's secret
bitterness or joy (xiv. 10), nor ' pour vinegar on a
raw wound ' by singing songs to a heavy heart
(xxv. 20). Those in danger of death from oppres
sion or unjust judgment he exerts himself to save,
offering no pleas of ignorance or inability to help
(xxiv. 11). On the poor and needy he freely be
stows his kindness, believing that to show kindness
to the needy is really honouring his Maker (xiv.
31), and actually ' lending to Jahweh,' in the con
fidence of a rich return (xix. 17). The wise man
is equally considerate of his dumb brothers in the
field. The righteous regardeth the life of his beast ;
But the heart of the wicked is cruel (xii. 10).
His kindness extends even to his enemies. The
motive of personal reward may still linger in the
background. But there is a real approach to
Christian ethics in the good man's refusal to recom
pense evil, but rather to ' wait on Jahweh ' for
salvation (xx. 22), and still more closely in his warn
ing against Schadenfreude, and the encouragement
to requite one's enemies with good for evil : —
Rejoice not when thine enemy falleth,
Nor let thy heart be glad when he stumbleth ;
Lest Jahweh see it, and be displeased,
And turn His wrath from him (xxiv. 17I).

The Good Man of the Proverbs 281
If thine enemy hunger, feed him ;
If he thirst, give him water to drink ;
For coals of fire shalt thou heap on his head,
And Jahweh will bring thee reward (xxv. 21I).1
This kindness which is the cement of ordinary
courtesy and respect is still more truly the bond of
friendship. In the moral world of Proverbs friend
ship is an essential part of wisdom. And they
enshrine the glory of worthy friendship in memorable
figures. They know how pure and elevated a joy
the affection of a true friend adds to life, and how
richly it enlarges the nature, giving keenness of
edge to the intellect, and the fine touch of sympathy
to the heart.
As iron sharpeneth iron,
A man sharpeneth the face of his friend (xxvii.. 17).
As in water face answer eth to face,
So answer eth the heart of man to man (xxvii. 19).
1 The principle of ' Love your friends, and hate your enemies,'
which has been described as the Golden Rule of paganism, and
which finds so frequent expression in the Greek gnomic poets,
for example — though Plato and Aristotle both occupy the higher
ethical platform (cf. Apol. 30; Crito 49; Nic. Eth. II. vii. 15,
etc.) — is the prevailing ideal of the Old Testament too. Ap
proaches to the Christian standpoint have been met with in Ps.
vii. 4f . and Job xxxi. 29. Ben Sira also warns his readers against
mahcious joy over an enemy's death (vui. 7), and even counsels
forgiveness of injuries as the only sure means of winning forgive
ness from God in prayer (xxvin. iff.). But in general he moves
within the limitations of the older view, advising good to be done
to the godly, but no help to be given to the sinner (xn. 2ff.) ;
he even reckons it among his nine chief joys ' to Uve to see the
fall of his enemy ' (xxv. 7), or at least to leave behind him ' an
avenger against his enemy' (xxx. 6).

282 The Poets of the Old Te stament
To the good man of Proverbs friendship is a never-
failing support. A friend is a real brother in
affection and sympathy.
A friend loveth at all times ;
As a brother is he born for adversity (xvii. 17).
In times of trouble a neighbour or friend at hand
is better even 'than a brother afar' (xxvii. 10).
In the kindly touch of his hand there is comfort
and joy. Even in his wounds there is healing.
Faithful are the wounds of a friend ;
But treacherous the kisses of an enemy (xxvii. 6).
Thus the very preciousness of the gift should make
a man the more careful in the choice of his friends.
For there are few found to stand the fullest test.
There are friends that play the part of friendship ; 1
And a friend (Ut. lover) there is that sticketh closer than a brother
(xvin. 24).
Many a man will profess himself friendly ;
But a faithful man who can find ? (xx. 6) .
And there are friendships that lead but to ruin.
For just as good friends lift our natures Godward,
evil friendships drag us swiftly to the pit.
Walk with wise men, and thou shalt be wise ;
But the companions of fools shall come to grief (xni. 20). 2
1 I have here followed LXX, etc., in reading niFlfjn^ D>in t?*.
2 To such sayings parallels may be found in the proverbial lore
of many nations, as well as in systematic treatises hke Aristotle's
Nicomachean Ethics, Books VIII and IX. But perhaps the
nearest analogies are offered in the Wisdom of Ben Sira : —

The Good Man of the Proverbs 283
The good man shows the finest side of his nature,
however, to those of his own flesh and blood. The
ideal of happy home-life upheld in Proverbs is
singularly attractive. At the thought of home,
the habitual reserve of the Proverb-makers is broken
through. The idyllic grace of ' love in a cottage '
touches the hidden chord of music in their hearts.
Better a dish of herbs where love is,
Than a fatted ox and hatred therewith (xv. 17).
Better a dry morsel and quietness therewith,
Than an house full of feasting with strife (xvii. 1).
And in singing the praises of a good wife, their
A faithful friend is a strong defence ;
He that findeth him, hath found a treasure.
A faithful friend is beyond price ;
Nothing can outweigh the blessing of him.
A faithful friend is the medicine (?) of life ;
He that feareth God shall gain such an one (vi. 14ft.).
Exchange not a friend at any price ;
Nor a true brother for gold of Ophir (vii. 18).
Let not an old friend go ;
For a new one is not to be compared with him.
A new friend is like new wine ;
Only when it is old, canst thou drink it (ix. 10).
Every friend saith, I am a friend ;
But there are friends that are friends only in name.
There is a friend that keepeth his eye on the table,
But in the time of trouble turneth against one.
A good friend fighteth against one's enemy,
And in front of the foe holdeth up a buckler.
Forget not thy friend in the fight ;
And leave him not when thoufindest thy spoil, etc. (xxxvii. iff.).

284 The Poets of the Old Testament
words are charged with the joyful enthusiasm of
true poetry.
He that findeth a wife findelh u good thing ;
'Tis a favour from Jahweh he winneth (xviii. 22).
House and riches are an inheritance from fathers ;
But a prudent wife is a gift from Jahweh (xix. 14).
A good wife who can find ?
For her price is far above corals (xxxi. 10). 1

1 We may again compare the Wisdom of Ben Sira : —
Happy the man that hath a good wife ;
For the number of his days shall be doubled.
An honest wife gladdens her husband's heart,
And fills his years full of peace.
A good wife is a good portion ;
She shall be given in the lot of those who fear the Lord,
Be a man rich, then, or poor, his heart is glad ;
His countenance is always cheerful (xxvi. iff.).
A gracious wife delighteth her husband ;
A wise one fattens his bones.
A quiet wife is a gift of God ;
And nothing is worth more than a disciplined spirit,
A modest wife is grace upon grace ;
And a chaste spirit is beyond all price.
As the sun when it riseth on the heights of heaven,
Is the beauty of a good wife in the fair realm of her home (xxvi.
13ft).
A wife's beauty gladdens the countenance ;
It surpasseth all the delights of the eye.
And if thereto she be kindly in speech,
Her husband is no more like other men.
He that winneth a wife hath the best of gains —
A stronghold fortified, and a pillar of support.
Without a fence, the vineyard is destroyed ;
And without a wife, man is a restless wanderer (xxxvi. 22ff.).

The Good Man of the Proverbs 285
The high-water mark of poetic beauty in the Book
of Proverbs is reached, indeed, in this closing chap
ter, where the gracious features of the good wife's
character are lovingly dwelt upon — her loyalty,
industry, and intelligence, her care for herself and
her family, her prudence, dignity, and kindness of
heart, her charity to the poor, and her sweetness
of countenance and speech (xxxi. ioff.). And the
home where such love and goodness preside is
exalted as a sacred focus of honour and blessing : —
Her husband is marked in the gates.
When he sits with the elders in council.
* * * *
Her children rise, and bless her,
Her husband also extols her :
' Many daughters have done well,
But thou hast excelled them all' (vv. 23 ff.).
It is true, the ideal of the Proverbs is still based on
the old-world conception of marriage. But the
spirit of love that sanctifies the tie raises us far
beyond the common ethnic standard. In the
proverbs of Israel wedded love involves mutual
trust and loyalty. And on this foundation the
family life reposes. The wise man's delight is to
see his children growing up around him in wisdom
and honour. And his sorest trial is to find them
give way to folly and disgrace. The very first
proverb in the main ' Solomonic ' Collection points
the contrasts : —

286 The Poets of the Old Testament
A wise son maketh a glad father ;
But a foolish son is a grief to his mother (x. i).
And the same sharp antitheses are drawn in various
other proverbs (e.g. xv. 20 ; xvii. 21, 25, etc.). Thus
the importance of early training is duly emphasized.
For, according to the sane outlook of Proverbs,
the child's future lay largely in the hands of his
parents. Train up a child in the way he should go;
And even when he is old, he will not depart from it (xxn. 6).
The discipline of Proverbs may be somewhat severe.
For folly seems to the wise men of Israel to be
' bound up in the heart of a child,' to yield to no
less powerful a persuasion than the rod (xxii. 15).
Therefore they encourage timely application.
He that spareth his rod hateth his son,
But he that loveth him visiteth him with chastisement (xni. 24),
Chasten thy son while still there is hope —
And set not thy heart on his destruction (xix. 18).
Withhold not correction from the child ;
If 'thoubeat him with the rod, he will be saved from death (xxiii. 13).1

1 The same stern principles pervade the Wisdom of Ben Sira :
He that loveth his son plies him with many stripes,
That he may have joy of him at the end.
He that chasteneth his son shall have good by him,
And shall be able to boast of him among his acquaintance.
* * # *
An unbroken horse turns out stubborn,
And a child left to himself grows up headstrong.

The Good Man of the Proverbs 287
But with all its apparent sternness the home
training of the wise is governed by a spirit of
warm, deep affection for the children. Their aim
is consistently to win their tender hearts to the
love of wisdom. And they do so by painting her
attractions in the brightest of colours. One of the
later sages affectionately recalls the gracious influ
ence of his old home life : —
/ was a son to my father,
Tender and only beloved in the eyes of my mother ;
And he taught me, and said to me :
' Let thine heart retain my words,
Keep my commandments, and live ;
Swerve not from the words of my mouth.
The first thing is wisdom — so get wisdom ;
And with all that thou gettest, get understanding.
Forsake her not — she will preserve thee ;
Love her, and she will keep thee<
Prize her, and she will exalt thee ;
She will raise thee to honour, if thou wilt embrace her.
On thy head will she place a chaplet of beauty ;
A crown of glory she will bestow on thee (iv. 3ff.).
And he feels he can best express his gratitude to the
old father who taught him the ways of wisdom by
handing down the same gracious precepts to his
children and all besides who will hear him : —
Coddle a child, and he will bring thee to trouble ;
Play with him, and he will cause thee grief.
* * * *
Bow down his neck, while he is young ;
And smite his loins, while he is small.
Why should he grow stubborn, and disobey thee,
And sorrow be brought to thy soul? (xxx. iff.).

288 The Poets of the Old Testament
Hear, ye sons, the instruction of a father ;
And attend that ye may know understanding.
For counsel good I give you,
So forsake ye not my teaching (vv. if.).
This picture is in full harmony with the general
temper of the Book. The whole tone of family
life is honest, upright, healthy, because the founda
tions are surely laid on the fear of Jahweh, and the
great desire of parents is to train their children in
this fear — to make of their homes real sanctuaries
of reverence and love, and happy nurseries of noble
men and women.
Over against this bright and joyful scene stands
the dark shadow of the home whence love is ban
ished, and where contention and discord prevail.
The proverbs that depict so miserable a state seem
wrung out of bitter experience.
As a gold ring in a swine's snout
Is a fair woman that lacketh discretion (xi. 22).
A good wife is a crown to her husband ;
But a shameless woman is as rottenness in his bones (xii. 4).
Better to dwell in a garret on the housetop, 1
Than with a quarrelsome woman in u spacious house (xxi. 9).
Better to dwell in a desert land,
Than with a quarrelsome and nagging wife (xxi. 19).
To destroy the peace and comfort of the home
A constant dripping in a rainy day
And a quarrelsome woman are alike (xxvii. 15).
But still more tragic is the fate of the home that
shame has entered, or whose young men have des-

The Good Man ofthe Proverbs 289
pised instruction, and gone after folly. No blacker
pictures have ever been drawn of the seductions
of ' the strange woman,' who lieth in wait at the
corners of the streets, to lure young fools into the
perfumed chambers, which are but the trap-doors
to death and Sheol (cf . v. iff. ; vi. 2off. ; vii. iff. ;
xxiii. 26ff., etc.). The young man's only safety is
steadfast resistance to every form of evil.
My son, if sinners entice thee,
Consent thou not (i. 10).
Let thine eyes look right on,
Thine eyelids be directed straight before thee ;
Make level the path of thy feet,
And let all thy ways be firm ;
Turn not to right or left,
Thy feet keep far from evil (iv. 25fL).
This love of home which sheds such lustre on the
Book of Proverbs extends to the larger life of the
people. The Jews have been proverbial for their
wanderings. Yet their heart is ever toward Jeru
salem. Thus in a foreign land the wise man felt
himself lost, ' like a bird that wandereth from
its nest ' (xxvii. 8). And when his sons went
forth to seek their fortunes in distant places, there
was nothing that brought him greater refreshment
of spirit than ' good news from a far country '
(xxv. 25). The outlook of Proverbs may be human
istic. Yet the roots of the wise man's affections
are twined around the hills of Judea. And his
19

290 The Poets of the Old Testament
desire is to see his own city prosperous, happy,
and honoured among the nations. There is nothing
in Proverbs of the eager, cultured democratic feeling
of the Greek sages. The powers that be are estab
lished of God Himself. And the wise man cares
not to contemplate rash innovations.
My son, fear thou Jahweh and the king,
And meddle not with such as are given to change ; 1
For suddenly cometh ruin at their hands,
And who knoweth the destruction that both of them bring ?
(xxiv. 2lff.).
Yet the political sympathies of Proverbs are
not with unreasoning conservatism. Great ideals
of what a city ought to be float before their vision,
and they urge all legitimate means to make their
ideals effective. The true citizen should be law-
abiding, one that fears God and honours the king ;
he should be peaceable, prudent, restrained in
speech and conduct, and not given to disturb the
social order. But he should likewise exert himself
to raise the tone of the city. For long-established
prestige, and outward power and splendour, are
not enough as bulwarks of the state.
Righteousness exalteth a nation,
And sin is the ruin of peoples (xiv. 34).
In the Oriental world the king was all-powerful.
And the wise man's counsel is chiefly directed to
him. A wicked king was like ' a roaring lion, and
1 Or, according to LXX, lift not thyself up against both of them.

The Good Man of the Proverbs 291
a ranging bear,' making havoc of his people (xxviii.
15), corrupting his servants too (xxix. 12), and
making the land to groan under his oppression
(xxix. 2ff.). The true foundation of the throne
was righteousness, with its blessed results in gracious
kindness, mercy and truth (xvi. 12 ; xx. 28). It
should be the aim, therefore, of those to whom God
had given influence, through their age, position, or
wealth, to be good counsellors of the king, that the
land they loved might flourish in righteousness . And
the Proverbs have enough of the democratic spirit
to see that even apart from the king and his coun
sellors the city might prosper through the righteous
lives of its common citizens.
By the blessing of the upright the city is exalted ;
But by the mouth of the wicked it is overthrown (xi. ii).
When the righteous triumph, there is great glory ;
But when the wicked rise to power, men hide themselves (xxviii.
12 ; cf. xxix. 2, 16, etc.).
Godless men set the city in a blaze ;
But wise men turn away wrath (xxix. 8).
In such sayings may be seen already at work the
civic leaven which was yet to leaven the world.
The moral outlook of Proverbs is substantially
that of ancient Israel. The good are blessed with
all worldly prosperity, honour and happiness ; the
wicked are involved in life-long misery, and swift,
painful death. To those who seek and find her,

292 The Poets of the Old Testament
Wisdom holds out the most alluring hopes of future
glory :—
O happy the man that findeth wisdom.
And he that gaineth understanding ;
For the profit thereof is better than silver,
And her revenue richer than fine gold.
More precious is she than corals,
And nought that men desire is comparable with her.
A length of days is in her right hand,
And in her left are riches and honour.
Her ways are ways of pleasantness,
And all her paths are peace.
A tree of life she is to those who grasp her ;
And happy are they who hold her fast (ui. I3ff.).
But for those who despise her there is nothing in
store but hopeless sorrow and despair.
Because I have called, and ye refused,
I stretched out my hand, and none regarded —
Ye set at nought all my counsel,
And would have none of mine admonition —
I too will laugh at your calamity,
I will mock when trouble comes to you;
When like a storm your trouble comes,
And as a whirlwind your calamity (i. 24ff.).
The same dramatic contrasts appear throughout
the Book.
He walketh safely that walketh uprightly,
But he that twisteth his steps shall come to grief (x. 9).
When the tempest sweepeth, the wicked is no more ;
But the righteous is rooted for ever (x. 25).
A stronghold is Jahweh to the man that is upright,
But destruction to the workers of wickedness.
The righteous shall never be moved ;
But the wicked shall not abide in the land (x. 2gf., etc.),]]

The Good Man of the Proverbs 293
The principles of God's rule are thus simple and
consistent. The sententious style of the Proverbs
would of itself forbid the high-wrought struggle
with Providence which inspires a book like Job.
But even the sense of Divine inequality is wanting.
If Jahweh chasten the good, it is only the loving
disciplme of a Father (iii. ii). There is no example
of a good man afflicted to the end. His light may
be dim and flickering at times ; yet
The path of the righteous is as shining light,
That shineth more and more unto the perfect day (iv. 18).
On the other hand, the pathway of the wicked leads
surely to darkness and death.
There is no good end for the evil ;
The lamp of the wicked shall be put out (xxiv. 20).
We are here still far removed from the Gospel of a
Father's love that embraces both good and evil,
and is actually made perfect amid human frailty
and sin, almost equally far removed from the Psalm
ists' experience of God's forgiving mercy. In but
one proverb have we an approach to the Christian
evangel : —
He that covereth up his sins will by no means prosper ;
But he that confesseth and forsaketh them shall obtain mercy
(xxvni. 13),
though there is also held out the possibility of
' atoning for one's sins ' by deeds of ' kindness and
truth,' and thus through the fear of Jahweh escaping

294 The Poets of the Old Testament
from evil (xvi. 6). The whole temper of the Pro
verbs, in fact, is that of the moralist, for whom
character is determined even from youth. ' Be
not deceived ; God is not mocked : for whatsoever
a man soweth, that shall he also reap.' He that
soweth righteousness, therefore, hath ' a sure re
ward ' (xi. 18) ; but he that soweth iniquity ' shall
reap a harvest of misery ' (xxii. 8).

CHAPTER XVII
The Thoughts ofthe Wise
In even the late sections of Proverbs we have found
no consciousness of discord in the moral government
of the Universe. The path of the righteous leads
to honour and glory ; that of the wicked to misery
and death. Thus the wise man's persuasions are
aimed directly at the winning of the simple to the
fear of the Lord, as the first principle of wisdom
and prosperity. But in another direction his
thoughts take wing. And in the prologue to
Proverbs we have the germ of what among other
nations would take the shape of speculative philo
sophy. As has been noted, the wisdom of Hebrew sages
is practical moral inspiration — that by which the
good man moulds his conduct. Thus wisdom is
the hidden source of all that is worthy in life.
Wisdom is likewise the vital spirit of all just govern
ment. By me kings reign,
And rulers determine justice ;
By me princes rule,
And nobles govern the earth (vtii. I5f.).

296 The Poets of the Old Testament
And all this because wisdom is the principle on
which God Himself based the Universe.

Jahweh by wisdom founded the earth,
By understanding established the heavens ;
By His knowledge the abysses were broken up,
And the skies drop down the dew (iii. 19I).

The wisdom that illumines the lives of the gooa is
thus a reflection of the full-orbed wisdom of God.
But as the Hebrew mind avoided abstractions, she
is represented as a fair virgin, the counterpart to
Madam Folly, with her house and table furnished
and provided with all good things, which she invites
the sons of men to come and enjoy, pointing the
appeal with a glowing revelation of her intimacy
with the Eternal : —

Jahweh formed me first of His creation,
Before all His works of old.
In the earliest ages was I fashioned,
Even from the beginning, before the earth.
When there were no depths was I brought forth,
When there were no fountains brimming with water.
Before the mountains were sunk in their bases,
Before the hills was I brought forth —
Or ever He had made the earth and the fields.
Or the first clods of the world.
When He established the heavens I was there,
When He drew the circle over the abyss ;
When He made firm the skies above,
And set fast the fountains of the deep ;

The Thoughts of the Wise 297

When He gave the sea its bounds,1
And fixed the foundations of the earth,
Then was I by Him as a foster-child,2
And daily was I His delight,
As I played continually before His eyes,
Played o'er all the habitable world.
So now, my children, hearken unto me,
Receive my instruction, and be wise
For happy is the man that heareth me,
Happy are those that keep my ways,3
Watching daily at my gates,
And waiting at my door-posts.
For he that findeth me findeth life,
And winneth favour from Jahweh ;
But he that misseth me wrongeth himself —
All that hate me love death (viii. 22H.).

In this majestic conception of Wisdom it seems
hardly possible to deny the fertilizing influence of
Greek thought. Yet the picture is Hebrew in its
essence. Wisdom is no archetypal hypostasis
emanating from the Divine. She is still a true
impersonation of a moral quality, endowed with
life by the One Eternal Being, whose place in

1 The commandment laid upon the sea is a redundance which
mars the parallelism of the piece (cf. LXX),
2 I have here without hesitation followed Aquila in reading J-1DX,
ward, or foster-child, the subsequent verses demanding such an
idea. With the figure of Wisdom playing before Jahweh we may
compare Heraclitus' description of the world-creating spirit as
a child playing at draughts (frag. 79).
3 The closing phrases of vv. 31 and 33 have been omitted as
redundances, and v. 326 placed after 34a (with LXX) .

298 The Poets of the Old Testament
creation she nowhere usurps. She is merely by
Him while He carries through His work, learning
of Him, and enjoying His affection, that she may
teach mankind the ways of wisdom and peace.
And from heaven she easily descends to the streets
and market-places of common life, to invite the
simple to her banquet (ix. iff.). The distinctively
ethical character of Wisdom is equally evident in
the great Song of Praise in Ecclesiasticus, where
Wisdom is ultimately identified with the Law of
Moses which found its resting-place and seat of
authority in Israel : —
I came forth from the mouth of the Most High,
And like a cloud I covered the earth ;
I had my dwelling in the high places,
And my throne was in the pillar of cloud ;
I alone compassed the circuit of heaven,
And walked in the depth of the abysses,
In the waves of the sea, and through all the earth ;
And in every people and nation I got me a possession.
With all these I sought for a resting-place ;
' In whose lot shall I find a lodging ? '
Then the Creator of all commanded me,
Even He that formed me pitched my tent,
And said, ' In Jacob be thy dwelling,
And in Israel thine inheritance,'
In the beginning, before the world, He fashioned me ;
And to all eternity shall I fail not.
In the holy tabernacle I ministered before Him,
And thus was I established in Zion ;
Yea, in the beloved city He gave me a resting-place,
And in Jerusalem was my dominion.

The Thoughts of the Wise 299
All this is the book of the covenant of God Most High,
Even the law that Moses commanded
For an inheritance to the congregations of Jacob (xxiv. sS.).1
A decided advance is evident in the Wisdom of
Solomon. Here the concrete imagination of Israel
has been caught up in the full sweep of Greek
influence. And we seem to be actually moving
within the inner circle of neo-Platonist speculation.
All things that are either hidden or manifest I know;
for Wisdom, the artificer of all things, taught me
For in her is a spirit intelligent, holy,
only-begotten, manifold, subtle,
mobile, pure, undefiled,
clear, inviolable, loving the good, quick,
unrestrained, active in good, a lover of men,
steadfast, sure, free from care,
all-powerful, all-seeing,
permeating all intelligent, pure, and subtlest of spirits.
For wisdom is more mobile than any motion;
she penetrates and permeates all things by reason of her purity.
For she is a breath of the power of God,
and a pure effluence of the glory of the Almighty ;
therefore can no impure thing insinuate itself within her.
For she is an effulgence of the everlasting light,
and an unstained mirror of the power of God,
and image of His goodness.
Though but one, she can do all things ;
and while remaining within herself, she maketh all things new,
and in all ages, entering into holy souls,
she maketh them friends of God and prophets ;
for God loveth none but those that dwell with wisdom,
1 Unfortunately the original Hebrew of this section has not
yet been recovered. The Greek appears, however, to be a suffi
ciently exact reproduction of the original.

300 The Poets of the Old Testament
For she is more beautiful than the sun,
and above all the order of the stars;
if compared with light itself, she is found before it,
for night follows the light,
but no evil thing can prevail against wisdom (vii. 22ff.).
This gradual blending of Hebrew wisdom with
Greek idealism — a process which reaches its final
result in Philo's doctrine of the Logos — is of pro
found significance in the history of religion. The
Greek thinkers, in their own brilliant way, were
feeling after God. But as they approached Him
mainly by intellectual speculation, and conceived
Him in consequence as pure rational Being, He
remained to the end, as Plato says, ' difficult to
find, and, when found, impossible to impart to all.'
The Platonic ideas were, indeed, a bridge to the
Divine, but a bridge by which only the enlightened
could pass. To the Hebrew wise man, on the
other hand, God was not the end of a speculative
process, but the first principle of thought, the axiom
from which all their reasoning started. Hebrew
wisdom was, in fact, the explication of the idea of
God, as known from the revelation He had made
of Himself, and the actual experience of religious
life. Thus wisdom remained always in vital con
tact with practical faith. Only as the sense of
God's immeasurable greatness dawned upon the
imagination of the wise, they too found it increas
ingly difficult to bring God down to the planes of

The Thoughts of the Wise 301
human life. The need for some Mediator between
the transcendent God of heaven and His weak and
ignorant children on earth became ever more
keenly felt. The speculative conceptions of Wisdom
in some measure supplied the need. But if God
were to be known as He really is, He must manifest
Himself through a more personal Mediator. In
this respect also Jesus Christ ' fulfilled ' the older
Revelation. The Jews had been asking for signs,
and the Greeks seeking wisdom ; but to those that
were called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ was
now found ' the Power of God, and the Wisdom of
God.' In the very words of the Wisdom of Solomon,
He was the personal ' effulgence ' of the Divine
glory (Heb. i. 3). Even the Logos doctrine of
Philo was baptized into the new Name. In Jesus
of Nazareth the Logos took flesh, and ' tabernacled
among men,' revealing unto them in all its purity
the glory which the wise men of Israel had seen but
in image and symbol — ' glory as of the only be
gotten of the Father ' (John i. 14). But it is not
in the Johannine writings alone that we trace the
influence of Philonic speculation. The mystical
piety of the Odes of Solomon is equally touched
with this spirit. The saints of God are here too
' penetrated by the Word,' which is to them both
Truth and Love ; the Lord is the " mirror ' in which
the beauty of God's face may be seen, and which

302 The Poets of the Old Testament
likewise reflects His glory into human hearts and
lives (xii. 9ft. ; xiii. iff. ; xvi. git. ; etc.).
In other parts of the Old Testament there is a
decided protest against all such gnostic tendencies.
The most brilliant poetic expression is given to
this feeling in the Song of Wisdom incorporated
in the Book of Job (ch. xxviii.). The poet has
sought wisdom in the depths of the earth, where
miners dig for silver and gold ; in the heights of
heaven, whither the eagles soar in flight ; and in
the desert places, where the proud beasts roam in
solitary majesty. But nowhere is wisdom to be
found of man. Only God knows her dwelling-
place. And even from Him was her face at first
concealed. For wisdom is no longer the associate
and ' ward ' of the Almighty, still less the Mediator
of His will to men. She dwells alone in her glory,
fulfilling her own ends, and nowhere entering into
the purposes of God with men. He discovered
her when He founded the earth, and set its laws in
order, thus exposing the hidden mysteries of things.
But He has no thought of revealing the secret to
mortals. Wisdom — whence cometh it,
And where is the place of intelligence ? 1
For silver there is a mine,
And for gold a place to refine it ;
1 I have followed Duhm in inserting here, and before v. 7
the opening note of the remaining stanzas. On other changes.
cf. Kittel. &

The Thoughts ofthe Wise 303
Iron is drawn from the dust.
And the stone is molten to brass.
Man pierceth the dark to its bounds,
And searcheth for stones through the murk.
He breaketh a shaft underground,
Where they hang and swing upon ropes.
The earth — from which cometh bread —
Is upheaved below as by fire.
Its stones are where sapphires are found,
And the dust thereof yieldeth gold.
But wisdom — whence cometh it,
And where is the place of intelligence ?
No eagle knoweth its path,
The vulture's eye hath not seen it.
The proud beasts have nowhere trodden it,
Nor the fearsome lion passed over.
With his hand man graspeth the flint rock ;
From their roots he upturneth the mountains.
Through the rocks he cutteth channels ;
He exploreth the springs of the rivers.
All that is precious he seeth,
And the secrets he bringeth to light ;
For he looks to the ends of the earth —
Scans all things under the heaven.
But wisdom — whence cometh it,
And where is the place of intelligence ?
No man knoweth its way,
'Tis not found in the land of the living.
The deep saith, ' It is not in me,'
And the sea saith, ' Not with me.'
No gold can be given for wisdom,
Nor silver weighed as its price.
No gold of Ophir can buy it,
No precious onyx, or sapphire.
No gold or glass is its equal,
Nor jewels of gold its exchange.
No crystal or pearls can be thought of ;
Yea, far beyond corals is wisdom.

304 The Poets of the Old Testament
But wisdom — whence cometh it,
And where is the place of intelligence ?
It is hid from the eyes of all creatures,
And concealed from the fowls of the air.
Abaddon and Death acknowledge :
' But a rumour thereof have we heard.'
God alone hath perceived the way to it,
He knoweth the place thereof, —
Even He that made weights for the wind,
And meted the waters by measure.
When He made a law for the rain,
And a way for the flash of the thunders,
Then did He see it, and mark it —
He established, and searched it out.
A very different accent is heard in the ' words
of Agur, the son of Jakeh ' (Prov. xxx.). He, too,
has applied his mind to the facts of life. He has
observed and studied, and pondered over the
problems of the world. Like the daring spirit who
saw Wisdom playing by the side of the Almighty,
he has even tried to ascend to heaven, and pene
trate the veil that enshrouds the presence of God.
But he falls back exhausted. With all his strivings,
he cannot grasp the Divine. He feels God's pres
ence, indeed, in all the movements of Nature. For
it is He that ranges over the Universe, controlling
all things in heaven and earth, gathering up the
wind in His fists, and in due season sending it loose
again, wrapping the waters in His cloak (a bold
image for the clouds), to pour them forth as rain,
and ordaining the complex issues of life, But he

The Thoughts ofthe Wise 305
cannot ' name ' Him ; still less can he tell His
' son's ' name. He can neither raise his spirit up
to God, nor find any personal Mediator, in whom
he can assuredly trace the lineaments of His glory.
I am wearied, O God, I am wearied ;
I am altogether spent.
I am but a brute, and no man ;
I have nought of human intelligence.
No wisdom have I learned,
No knowledge I have of the Holy One.
Who is He that hath mounted to heaven, and come down
That hath gathered the wind in His fists,
The waters hath wrapped in His cloak,
And established all ends of the earth ?
What is His name, and His son's name,
If thou dost know? (xxx. iff.).
The speculative knowledge of God which seemed
so sure to other thinkers here crumbles into dust.
In Agur's wearied utterances we might well be read
ing the reflections of a modern agnostic. And his
general view of life is in perfect harmony with his
creed. This too is all a mystery — a riddle that
cannot be read. There are three things, yea four,
that never can be satisfied : the grave and the barren
womb, the desert soil and the devouring flame ;
three things, yea four, that are too wonderful for
him to follow : the eagle beating its way through the
air, the serpent gliding through the clefts of the rock,
the ship storm-tossed and buffeted, yet ever master
ing the waves, and the insinuating, invincible power
of love (vv. 15&.). Every other aspect of life leads
20

306 The Poets of the Old Testament
but to the same conclusion — that the problem is in
soluble. And the only practical counsel that emerges
from the general uncertainty is the easy, unambitious
' golden mean ' :
But two things I ask of Thee,
Withhold them not before I die :
Vanity and lies put far from me ;
Give me neither poverty nor riches,
Feed me with food sufficient for my wants (vv. 5I).
Were we here moving in the realm of pure Greek
thought, this would doubtless have been Agur's
whole philosophy of life. But the Hebrew agnostic
could not so easily cut himself off from his people's
faith. For to the Hebrews, as we have seen, faith
was no final result of philosophical speculation, but
the root from which all that was noble and true alike
in thought and conduct sprung. Thus, tested and
tried amid the storms of centuries, it still held fast
when other supports of life had gone. The agnosti
cism of Agur is anything but the ' scathing criticism
of the theology of his day, and sweeping scepticism
as to every form of revealed religion,' that the cava
lier modern litterateur has found in it.1 His words
are rather the subdued confessions of the restless
thinker who has been baffled in his quest of God, for
he has found this knowledge too wonderful for him,
too high to attain unto. He does not deny the
1 Dillon, Sceptics ofthe Old Testament, p. 133.

The Thoughts of the Wise 307
possibility of more fortunate or pure-hearted natures
winning the prize he has failed to grasp. For his
agnosticism never touches the existence of God
Himself. However unable man may be to reach a
satisfying knowledge of the Divine, He remains the
great energizing Force behind all the phenomena of
Nature. And to Agur this Divine presence is not the
inscrutable First Cause of the modern agnostic. He
is a real personal Being, with a Name, if only the
sons of men could learn it ! But there is yet more
positive faith in the words of Agur. If God be in
accessible even to the boldest flights of speculative
reason, He has nevertheless unveiled His mind and
will through the visions of prophet and Psalmist.
And on this revelation Agur finds a resting-place
amid the surging waters of his doubt. Even if the
brave notes of Ps. xviii. 30,
Every word of God is tried ;
He is a shield unto them that trust Him,
be a later insertion in the ' words of Agur ' (vv. 5f.),
the sequel shows how God was still his refuge and
strength. The request that he be kept true to the
golden mean is a prayer addressed to Heaven. And
the reason explicitly given is lest earthly riches and
enjoyments tempt him to deny Jahweh, or on the
other hand stress of poverty lead him to steal his
neighbour's goods, and thus ' profane the name of
his God ' (v. 9).

3 o 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
Thus, as wisdom based her speculations on God,
so does the fear of God remain the sure ground of
the wise man's confidence to the end. His efforts
to penetrate the final mysteries may drive him back
bewildered on the thought of his own utter ignorance.
Yet God is God for eVer. And in Him there is sal
vation. The mind is, no doubt, left with an un
solved antinomy. But the very strength with which
faith is maintained in the face of difficulty and doubt
is the prophecy of its ultimate victory. In darkness
itself the light is broadening ' unto the perfect day.'

CHAPTER XVIII
The Song of Songs
The scanty survivals of the old folk-poetry of Israel
were found strangely lacking in love-songs. It can
hardly be doubted, however, that here, too, the
heart-strings of man and maiden were touched by
the golden bow to sweetest music. In the more
literary age the tender grace of human affection gave
even to the quiet wisdom of Proverbs the true feeling
of poetry. But far richer strains are drawri forth
in the series of exquisite lyrics entitled shir hash-
shirim, ' the Song of Songs,' that is, the sweetest of
all songs. Through the whole Book there breathes
a fresh delight in Nature, and a joyous rapture of
affection, that reminds one rather of the idylls of
Theocritus and the Greek Anthologists, or the more
passionate love poetry of modern times, than the
grave religious tones of Scripture.
Our wider views of inspiration lead us to welcome
the presence of lovs-songs in the Canon. We may
even subscribe to Niebuhr's judgment, that ' the
Bible would be lacking in something if one could not
find in it expression for the deepest and strongest
309

3 10 The Poets of the Old Testament
sentiments of humanity.' 1 But the Book had its
struggle for admission. Its frank naturalism, and
highly sensuous imagery, raised persistent suspicion
against its sanctity. Not indeed till the Synod of
Jamnia (a.d. 90) was the question finally set at rest.
And even then the prohibition was laid down that
no Jew must read the Book unless he had reached
the mature age of thirty. But having finally secured
its place in the Scriptures, the Song speedily cap
tured the hearts of the most devout. The famous
Rabbi Akiba, writing about the year 120, says, ' The
whole world does not outweigh, the day on which the
Song of Songs was given to Israel ; all the Writings
are holy, but the Song is the holiest of all.' And he
pronounces a solemn anathema against any who
should dare to sing the Song at banquets, as was
apparently still done, in the manner of secular songs :
' Whosoever sings from the Song of Songs in the
wine-houses, making it a common song, shall have
no share in the world to come.' The Song was thus
no longer read by orthodox Jews as a human love-
song, but as a profound allegory of spiritual love,
Solomon being identified with God, and the beloved
with the Jewish people He had chosen for His own,
and the sweet interchanges of affection being trans
lated into passionate effusions of the heart of God
and His people in mutual love. In the Targum and
1 Kenan, Song of Songs, E.T., p. 106.

The Song of Songs 311
Midrash Shir rabba this mystical interpretation of
the Song blossoms into wonderful luxuriance. And
from the Synagogue it passed to the Christian
Church, where it enjoyed still greater vogue. Traces
of the influence of the Book may be noted as early
as the Odes of Solomon.1 But it was Origen who
gave the decisive impulse to allegorization. In his
ten-volumed Commentary on the Song he is said to
have surpassed even himself. He recognized the
literal significance of the Book as an epithalamium, or
marriage drama ; but his real strength he gave to
the elucidation of its mystical sense as a true love-
song of Christ and the soul He had redeemed, or of
Christ and His Church.2 Reading the Book in this
sense, devout natures, whose souls were starved by
the hard, dry bones of Scholasticism, found in the
warm feeling of the Song the refreshment and nurture
their spirits craved for. The mystics naturally
revelled in its fresh welling fountains of emotion.
Saint Bernard of Clairvaux has no fewer than eighty-
six sermons on the first two chapters of the Song.
And its influence is transparent in his own spiritual
hymns. But even so sternly logical a thinker as
Thomas Aquinas felt the spell of the Book. In his
last illness, uplifted by visions of God's love that
1 Odes, iii. 5ff.
2 Cf. Riedel, Die Auslegung des Hoheliedes in der judischen
Gemeinde und der Griechischen Kirche.

312 The Poets of the Old Testament
made all he had written on scholastic theology seem
as of no account, he is said to have turned lovingly
to the Song, on which he actually dictated a few
chapters of Commentary. Among Protestants also
mystical spirits have found in the warm outpourings
of Canticles the purest expression of their love for
the Redeemer. Works like Samuel Rutherford's
Letters are steeped in the feeling of the Song. And
till recent times it was for many devout Evangelicals
almost the heart of the Bible.1
These mystical interpretations of the Song are
not so unnatural as they appear to our modern taste.
God is the fountain of all love. And that human
love which is stronger than death itself does enable
us to understand and express something, at least,
of the love of God that passeth understanding. In
the imaginative East the lower love glided easily
into the higher. Persian love-poetry, for example,
has been found a real channel of mystical feeling.
And on several occasions the poets and prophets of
the Old Testament use human love as a symbol or
parable of God's. Thus Hosea can boldly transfer
1 In the vestry of the McCheyne Memorial Church, Dundee,
may be seen the Pulpit Bible of the Scottish saint, Robert Murray
McCheyne. It is quite black at the Song of Songs and the earUer
chapters of Romans ; the rest is comparatively white. Mc-
Cheyne's faith evidently supported itself on the solid substance
of Romans ; while his warm love for his Saviour luxuriated in the
glowing passion of the Song.

The Song of Songs 313
to God his own heart-broken affection for his poor,
sinful wife, Gomer. In the New Testament, too,
the love of Christ is frequently compared with the
love of the bridegroom for his bride. But in its
original sense, at all events, the Song is one of purely
human affection. The very fact that it could be
sung by frivolous youths in the wine-houses reveals
its essential character. It is significant, too, that
in the New Testament, where all the rays that stream
from the Old are focussed upon Christ, the Song is
nowhere quoted or alluded to. And with all the
rapture it inspires, the mystical interpretation is
liable to gross extravagance and abuse. The allegor-
ists find simply what they seek in the Song. Thus
the literature of its interpretation is like a dense
jungle of luxurious vegetation, through which no
clear path can be traced.
In the ancient Church the only serious attempt
to read the Song by its own light was made by Theo
dore of Mopsuestia, whose naturalistic methods
were subsequently condemned by Oecumenical
Council. Even the Reformation failed at first to
liberate the Book from its allegorical shackles. But
in the course of the following centuries its fresh,
sweet beauty made its own impression. The Song
thus came to be read as a simple drama of love trium
phant in marriage. Origen's suggestion of the
epithalamium was taken up by Bossuet and Lowth,

314 The Poets of the Old Testament
who found in it the dramatic celebration of Solo
mon's nuptials with the daughter of Pharaoh (cf.
1 Kings iii. 1) . The pastoral atmosphere of the piece
appealed strongly to the artistic taste of an age
whose elites delighted to play the roles of the Gentle
Shepherd and Shepherdess. But the more natural
feeling of the Romantic age revolted against such
artifice. In his charming Lieder der Liebe : die
altesten und schonsten aus dem Morgenlande (1778),
Herder, the prophet of Romanticism, with remark
able prescience of the trend of recent criticism, read
the Book as a collection of forty-four independent
love-songs, held together ' by no closer link than
that of a bunch of fine pearls on one string,' but all
of them most worthy of their place in the Bible, as
the sweetest and purest expressions in ancient litera
ture of the most Godlike of the emotions.1 And
where the dramatic theory was still adhered to, a
new character was introduced in the person of the
Shulamite's country lover, to whom her heart
remained true amid all the blandishments of her
royal wooer, who sought to win her as one of the
prizes of his harem.
The latter view, which is associated chiefly with
the name of Ewald, has gained wide acceptance
among scholars. For a full generation it virtu
ally held the field, and is still maintained, with
1 Herder, Werke, VIII. 541, 5s4ff.

The Song of Songs 315
modifications, in Driver's Introduction and Roth-
stein's article in the Dictionary of the Bible. Of
all the modern theories, it offers the noblest
interpretation of the Song as a drama of pure love
tried and proved in the furnace of temptation. But
grave difficulties confront the dramatic theory in all
its forms. The plot is anything but self-evident.
It is rather read into the text than suggested by the
sequence of the whole. The characters are elusive ;
the scenes continually shift ; and some of them be
long to the realm of dream-land. Moreover, there
is no definite progress in the plot — no real dramatic
movement or denouement. The great panegyric
on love (viii. 6) may no doubt be regarded as the
climax of the Song. But as the consummation of
love in marriage is already presupposed in the lus
cious odes i. 2ff., I2ff. ; ii. iff. ; iii. iff., etc., the denoue
ment is purely imaginary. The Song appears, in
fact, to celebrate various phases of love, not one
closely-knit romance.
Of recent years scholars have looked increas
ingly to the East for light on the baffling prob
lem of the piece. This way of approach was already
indicated by Renan, who referred to Schefer's
accounts of wedding festivities at Damietta and other
districts of Syria, and suggested that the Song was
an old Palestinian wedding play, in which the young
men of the village acted the part of Solomon's body-

3 1 6 The Poets of the Old Testament
guard, while the maidens impersonated ' the daugh
ters of Jerusalem,' the play being arranged in acts
designed for separate days of the wedding fete.1
The suggestion was thrown out afresh in Wetzstein's
famous article on the ' Syrian Threshing-board '
(1873), where the curious revelries of the marriage or
' king's week ' were described in detail, and a modern
specimen of the wasf, or sword-song in honour of
bride and bridegroom, offered for comparison with
the wasfs of Canticles iv.-vii.2 Apart from a brief
note by Stade, the article called forth no comment,
till Budde's enthusiastic Eureka in the New World
(1894), followed by his detailed Commentary in 1898,
raised the suggestion to the dignity of a well-estab
lished hypothesis. According to Budde, the Song
is a repertoire of wasfs and other wedding songs
covering the seven days of the ' king's week,' and
having no other link of connexion than their common
praise of wedded love. Thus many difficult knots
are cut. A strict dramatic unity in the Song is
no longer required. LThe literary similarities of
the different lyrics are explained by unity of feeling
and motive. Above all, the troublesome names of
Solomon and the Shulamite (the fair Abishag)
become mere sobriquets for the ' king and queen '
of the festal week. It is true, neither Wetzstein
1 Song of Songs, E.T., pp. 62L
2 Zeitschrift fiir Ethnologie, vol. v., pp. 27off.

The Song of Songs 317
nor Budde could point to any such use of royal
play-names. But more recent research in Arabic
folk-poetry has filled up the gap. For in certain
texts pubhshed by Enno Littmann (1902) popular
bridegrooms are not merely likened to kings in their
slow, majestic march, but are actually invested with
the title either of the reigning Sultan (Abdul Hamid)
or of famous sovereigns of old (Chosrau and Nu'-
man).1 It can hardly be doubted, therefore, that
Wetzstein has led criticism along true lines of in
vestigation. Whatever be the ultimate fate of
Budde's theory, the Song must henceforth be studied
in the light of modern Syrian love-poetry.
But our comparisons must not be confined to
marriage songs. Dalman has brought to light many
Arabic wasfs that celebrate the beauty, not of brides
alone, but of loved ones generally.2 This would
suggest that Budde has unjustly narrowed the
theme of Canticles. And in reality, while various
parts of the Book have a direct bearing on the mar
riage-rite, the majority of the songs are better
understood as the effusions of a young and ardent,
fond, yet often heart-sick, lover. The Book may
thus be regarded as a choice Anthology of ancient
Hebrew love songs, the main part doubtless from
1 Littmann, Neuarabische Volkspoesie, Texts A IV. 52, 98, 100
B I. 31.
2 Dalman, Paldstinischer Diwan, pp. xii., iooff.

3 1 8 The Poets of the Old Testament
one and the same sweet singer, and all inspired by a
common sentiment.1 The Aramaic colouring of
the whole, and the appearance of Persian and Greek
words like pardes (iv. 13) and appiryon (iii. 9), point
decisively to a date in the Greek era, probably in
the earlier half of the third century B.C. The spirit
of the Book is fresh and sunny. Its singers are all
of the open air. The choral-like appearances of
the ' daughters of Jerusalem ' would, indeed, sug
gest that the Book assumed its final shape there.
But the general scenery is that of the North, with
its blossoms reddening in the spring-time, its flocks
of sheep swarming from Gilead, its parks full of all
pleasant fruits, watered by ' running streams from
Lebanon,' and its villages nestling in the bosom of
scented fields and vineyards.
The Song opens with a love-dance in which the
rustic heroine expresses her ardent longing for the
favours of her ' king,' coupled with a modest apology
for her dark beauty, inasmuch as the sun has beamed
too kindly on her face, while she kept her brothers'
vineyard (i. 2ff.). This is followed by a tender
elegy, in which, in the guise of a fair shepherdess,
she seeks the loved of her soul, and is bidden to
follow him up by the tracks of the sheep : —
1 The wider view is taken by the most recent students of the
Song, e.g. Haupt, Biblische Liebeslieder , pp. xui.f. ; Schmidt,
Messages of the Poets, pp. 225ft. ; and Wheeler Robinson in the
new edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica.

The Song of Songs 319
i. 7 Tell me, thou loved of my soul,
Where thou tendest thy sheep ; 1
For why should I wander in vain
By the flocks of thy comrades ?
8 ' If thou know not thy loved one's pastures,
Thou fairest of women,
Go forth in the tracks of the sheep,1
By the tents of the herdsmen ! '
And now, as bridegroom and bride, they pour their
endearing flatteries, in true Oriental luxuriance of
imagination, into each other's ears.
9 ' To a filly in Pharaoh's chariot,
My love, I have likened thee.
10 Adorned are thy cheeks with spangles,
With stringed jewels thy neck.
11 Spangles of gold will I make thee,
With pendants of silver.'
12 While my king reclines on his diwan,
My nard yields its fragrance.
13 A scent-bag of myrrh is my loved one,
Reposing between my breasts.
14 My love is a cluster of henna- flowers,
In the gardens of Engedi.
1 5 ' Behold, thou art fair, my love ;
Thine eyes are as doves.'
16 Behold, thou art fair, my loved one ;
So beauteous thy form !
' Our bed is spread in the forest ; 2
Yea, green is our couch.
1 The two redundant phrases, ' where thou makest them rest
at noon,' and ' there feed thy kids,' have been omitted in the
combined interests of sense and rhythm.
2 This Une has been conjecturally filled in to complete the
parallelism.

3 20 The Poets of the Old Testament
17 The beams of our house are cedars,
Our rafters are fir.'
ii. 1 I am a rose of Sharon,
A lily of the valleys.
2 ' As a lily among the thistles
Is my love among the daughters'
3 As an apple-tree in the forest
Is my loved one among the sons.
In his shadow I rest with delight,
And his fruit is sweet to my taste.
4 To the house of wine hath he brought me,
The banner o'er which is love ;
5 He hath stayed me with cakes of raisins,
And with apples revived my strength.1
6 His left hand under my head,
His right doth embrace me in love.
7 I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem,
By the roes and the hinds of the field,
That ye rouse not love, nor disturb it,
Until it be pleased to awake !
From the sweet bliss of wedded love we are carried
back, in an exquisite lyric, to the glad spring season
when youthful affection first awoke in the maiden's
heart, and her lover came to woo her even in her
dreams by night.
8 Hark, my beloved !
See, he comes,
Leaping over the mountains,
Skipping over the hills ! 2

1 The closing phrase, ' for I am sick with love,' no doubt comes
from v. 8.
2 The comparison with roe and fawn is prematurely intro
duced from v. 17.

The Song of Songs 321
96 Lo ! there he standeth
Against our wall !
I look through the lattice,
I peer through the panes.
10 Then answers my loved one,
And speaks to me thus :
' Arise, my love ;
My fair one, come !
11 For, lo ! the winter is past,
The rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear in the land,1
And the voice of the ring-dove is heard.
13 The fig-tree ripens its fruit,
And the vines give forth their fragrance.
Arise, then, my love ;
My fair one, come ! '
A few verses tremulous with mutual affection (ii.
I4ff.) lead to another dreamland scene, in which
the love-struck maiden goes boldly out to search the
city streets for the loved of her soul.
Ui. 1 On my bed by night I sought
The loved of my soul.
2 ' / will rise now, and range the city,
Its streets and its squares.
There I'll seek the loved of my soul.'
I sought but I found him not.
3 / found men ranging the city :'*
' Have ye seen the loved of my soul ? '
4 Scarce had I parted from them,
When I found the loved of my soul.
I held him ; I let him not go,
Till I brought him home to my mother.3
1 The middle stichos is probably a mere variant to the last.
• The scene with the night-rangers has been expanded by
features from the similar scene in v. 7.
8 The closing line of v. 4 has been influenced by viu. 2. Dal-
31

322 The Poets of the Old Testament
The brilliant song of Solomon's palanquin is most
easily understood as an idealized representation of
the bridegroom's procession on the festal ' board,'
surrounded by his bodyguard of village youths. This
is followed by a fine example of the wasf, or sword-
song, in which the lover celebrates the beauty of his
love with a lavish display of that sensuous imagery
in which the Oriental delights.
iv. I Behold, thou art fair, my love,
Thine eyes are as doves ;
Thy hair like a flock of kids,
That swarm down from Gilead ;
2 Thy teeth are like shorn ewes,
Fresh from the washing,
All of them ranged in pairs,
And none of them lacking.
3 As a scarlet thread are thy lips,
And sweet is thy mouth ;
Like a piece of pomegranate thy temple,
Shining out through thy veil ;
4 Thy neck like the tower of David,
Built for an arsenal,
With a thousand bucklers therein,
All the shields of the heroes ;
5 Thy breasts like a pair of fawns,
The twins of a roe.1
7 Thou art all of thee fair, my love —
No spot is in thee.
With all this beauty the lover's heart is bewitched.
man would therefore expunge the whole. But the retention of
the nucleus, at least, seems essential to the sense.
1 The following phrases of the MT. come from another con.
text (ii. i6f.). On other omissions, cf. Kittel,

The Song of Songs 323
9 By one glance from thine eyes hast thou ravished me,
By one turn of thy neck hast bewitched me.1
10 How sweet is thy love, my sister, 2
How much better than wine thy caresses !
n With honey-drops trickle thy lips,
And milk lies beneath thy tongue.
Thy garments are fragrant as Lebanon,
Thine ointments are sweeter than balsam.3
To him she is a garden full of all precious fruits,
' enclosed ' but for his enjoyment, a ' fountain of
living waters ' sealed and preserved for himself
alone (iv. i2ff.). And at her invitation he comes,
eats and drinks, and is blessed.
16 ' Awake, North wind,
And come, thou South !
Blow on my garden.
That its spices may spread t
Let my loved one come to his garden,
And eat of his precious fruits !'
v. 1 7 am come to my garden, my sister,
I have gathered my myrrh and my balsam ;
I have eaten my comb with my honey,
I have drunk my wine with my milk.
Come, friends, eat and drink,
Yea, drink ye deep draughts of love I

1 The Hebrew text here is somewhat redundant. In the
translation I have sought to preserve the essential ideas.
2 The word ' sister ' is here an endearing name for the loved
one. In Egyptian love-poetry examples of the same usage are
found. 8 In the Hebrew text the closing stichos appears in v. 10 ; but
there it is quite out of place, while v. 1 1 lacks its necessary parallel
ism. The transposition of the phrase restores order to the verses.

324 The Poets of the Old Testament
A still more moving night-scene, in which the
fond maiden returns home weary and wounded from
a vain quest of her lover, adjuring the ' daughters of
Jerusalem,' if they find him, to tell him how ' sick
of love ' she is (vv. 2ff.), introduces us to a wasf in
praise of the beloved one's beauty, in the same ful
some style as its fellow in ch. iv.
10 My beloved is radiant and ruddy,
The chief of ten thousand ;
ii His head is as gold most pure,
His locks like the raven.1
12 His eyes are like doves
By brooks of water,
Washed as with milk,
Perched by the floods.
13 His cheeks are like beds of balsam,
Like banks of sweet herbs ;
His lips are as lilies,
Dripping with myrrh.
14 His hands are like tapers of gold,
Finished with topaz ;
His belly an ivory plate,
O'erlaid with sapphires.
15 His legs are as pillars of marble,
Set on sockets of gold ;
His form is like Lebanon,
Lordly as cedars.
16 His mouth is most sweet —
He is all of him lovely.
This is my loved one, my friend,
Ye daughters of Jerusalem.
1 The two redundant words nilhB' D\?FI?EI have been omitted.

The Song of Songs 325
With a passion more in harmony with our modern
taste, the poet sings the praises of his love. To him
she far surpasses in splendour all the beauties of
Solomon's court (vi. 8). The flash of those dazzling
eyes he can hardly even endure to face.
vi. 10 She looks out like the dawn1
Fair as the moon,
Pure as the sun,
Awful as army with banners.
In the next canticle a maiden of Shulem sings of
her capture by her ' prince,' amid the vain appeals
of her kinsfolk to return.
n / went down to the garden of nuts,
To see the green shoots of the valley —
To see if the vines were in bud,
Or the pomegranates had flowered.
12 Or ever I knew, on his chariot
The prince of my people had placed me.2
* * * *
13 ' Turn back, turn back, maid of Shulem ;
Turn back, turn back, that we see thee ! '
But why would ye see the Shulamite
With the dancers dancing in pairs ? 3

1 To introduce the stanza as a question (flNl'V?) spoils its
whole force.
2 This verse is one of the most uncertain in the book. The
simplest and most satisfactory text appears to the writer to be
got by transposing the last two words, and reading 'JOB'
'SJ? 3H3 ifDSID, the prince of my people placed me on his
chariot. A verse seems to have dropped out at this point, the
hiatus being too'marked for the context.
3 Here I have followed the MSS. which read r6hp3. If we

326 The Poets of the Old Testament
A sword-song in praise of womanly beauty, still
more full of abandon than the last, carries us onward
to a luscious lyric of rural love.
10 / am my loved one's,
And to me is his longing.
11 Come then, my love, let us go to the field,
'Mong the henna-flowers let us lodge !
12 Then at dawn let us out to the vineyards,
To see if the vine be in bud,
If the grape's tender blossom have opened,
Or the pomegranates have flowered ! %
1 3 For the mandrakes give forth their fragrance ;
At our door are all precious fruits.
All of them, new and old,
I have kept for thee, my beloved.
This is followed by perhaps the frankest utterance
of love-sickness in the whole Song.
viii. 1 O that thou wert my brother,
Nursed at my mother's breasts !
I would kiss thee whene'er I met thee ;
And none should hold me in scorn.
2 To my mother's house would I bring thee,
To the chamber of her that conceived me ; a
I would make thee to drink of the spiced wine,
And the must of the pomegranate.

take D.'Onan in its literal sense of ' the two bands,' we have a
reference to the country dances from which the maiden would
henceforth be missed.
1 The additional phrase of the MT. is a mere prosaic gloss,
which disturbs the regular measure of the song.
2 I have completed the parallehsm from the corresponding
passage (iii. 4).

The Song of Songs 327
From the meadows of intoxicating delight we soar
to the high mountain-peak of the book — that great
paean of triumphant love, the blended purity, ten
derness and strength of which can hardly be matched
in the poetry of passion.
66 For love is strong as death,
And jealousy hard as Sheol.
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
Its flames are flames of Jah.
7 No waters can quench love,
Nor can the deep floods drown it.
If a man gave all that he hath for love,
He would surely be despised.
Thus the Song ends in the peace and joy of love
requited. The maiden's brothers had asked what
they should do for their sister in the day men spoke
for her, and had resolved : —
9 If she be a wall,
We shall build her a turret of silver ;
If she be but a door,
We shall fence her with boards of cedar.
But through all the temptations of youthful impulse,
she had kept herself true to honour.
10 I was a wall,
And my breasts were as towers ;
Thus I appeared in their eyes
As one that found peace.
And she and her bridegroom could repose in each
other's love with perfect satisfaction and delight, en
vying not even Solomon his silver and his pleasures.

328 The Poets of the Old Testament
11 Solomon had a vineyard at Baal-hamon ;
He let out the vineyard to keepers.
Each one for its fruit was to bring
A thousand shekels of silver.
12 I have a vineyard — mine own ;
And its fruit is before me.
I leave thee the thousand, O Solomon,
And the fruit to the keepers thereof.1

1 On the reading, cf. Kittel.

CHAPTER XIX
Vanity of Vanities
Our study of the speculative wisdom of Proverbs
has shown the radiant faith of Israel ' sicklied o'er
with the pale cast of thought.' This blanching influ
ence of reflection is still more evident in Ecclesi
astes, where faith has sunk almost to inanition. One
is not surprised, therefore, that the Book shared
the same fate as the Song of Songs, and won full
recognition only at the Synod of Jamnia. Even
then its dark, depressing views of life, and its uncon
cealed Epicurean tendency, caused deep searchings
of heart among the Jewish Rabbis. But while it
pained and shocked devout spirits, the transparent
honesty of the Book, and the classical expression it
gives to certain recurring moods of humanity,
exercised a strange fascination, which has increased
with the ages. Over our modern world it has thrown
a peculiar spell. Not only have brilliant wits like
Heine and Renan found it ' the most charming
book ' in the Old Testament, but grave philosophers
have adopted its melancholic refrain as the keynote
of their own systems, and other thoughtful minds

3 3 o The Poets of the Old Testament
have caught in its haunting phrases the rich under
tones of their more serious reflections. It is aston
ishing how many quotations from Ecclesiastes have
passed into current use. And not a few of its brighter
gems shine with fresh lustre on the palace walls of
English literature.
The writer speaks in the name of Solomon, king of
Israel. But the garb thus assumed is very lightly
worn. The personal allusions scattered throughout
the Book point to a wise man speaking, not from
the throne, but from the ranks of the people, and
that, too, in an age wholly unlike the golden days
of King Solomon — one of political upheaval and
social disorder, when Israel had fallen under the
tyrannous rule of weak and upstart monarchs, who
farmed out the provinces to cruel and rapacious
satraps, under whom ' folly sat in positions of
dignity, and the rich and well-born had to take the
lowest place, slaves rode on horseback, and princes
walked as slaves upon the ground,' justice was per
verted, and the land was honey-combed with spies
and tale-bearers, bent on ruining the upright (iii.
i6ff. ; v. 8f. ; x. 5f£.). The earliest possible date for
Ecclesiastes is thus the later Persian period (c. 350
B.C.), when the strong Empire founded by Cyrus had
become thejhappy hunting-ground of political exploit
ers and adventurers. But the general picture of
anarchy and oppression still more strongly suggests

Vanity of Vanities 331
the Greek regime of the second century B.C., when
the national spirit of Israel lay crushed and broken,
till the fiery patriotism of the Maccabees roused it
to fresh enthusiasm. And the linguistic argument
bears almost irresistibly in the same direction. If
we except the Aramaic sections of Ezra and Daniel,
no book in the Old Testament shows more unmis
takably the passing of pure Hebrew. In phraseo
logy and idiom, indeed, it reminds us rather of the
Mishna than of anything else in the Bible.1
The historical allusions in iv. I3ff. and x. i6f . are
too vague to be relied on for evidence of date.
But both passages are most plausibly related to the
victory of Antiochus the Great over the degenerate
King Ptolemy V (Epiphanes) of Egypt, and the
enthusiasm with which he was welcomed as overlord
of Palestine (198 B.C.). A terminus ad quern for at
least the original cast of the Book is found in the
Wisdom of Ben Sira (c. 180 B.C.), which is full of
clear reminiscences of Ecclesiastes.2 We may date
1 The arguments for the late date of Ecclesiastes are detailed
in the various Commentaries and standard works of Introduction.
For the linguistic pecuUarities, cf. especially the Commentaries
of Dehtzsch and Siegfried.
2 The relation between Ecclesiastes and Ben Sira has been
carefuUy worked out by Plumptre in his charmingly-written
Commentary in the Cambridge Bible Series, pp. s6ff., and more
recently, in direct dependence on the Hebrew original of Ben
Sira, by McNeile, in his most valuable Introduction to Ecclesi
astes, pp. 34f£., and Barton, in the International Critical Commen-

332 The Poets of the Old Testament
it then about the beginning of the second century,
most probably just after 198 B.C., thus allowing
sufficient time for its influence to be felt in later
literature. The Book is stamped with the impress of strong
personal character and experience. Its prevalent
tone may be ashen grey ; but underneath the hard
ening lava the fires have burnt, the intensity of their
glow being revealed in the sparkling crystals of
thought that flash out upon us. The author was
evidently a man of high position, wealth, and cul
ture, who had drunk deep draughts of the cup of
life's enjoyments, though he suffered bitterly in the
sorrows of his people and city, and was wounded
also ' in the house of his friends ' (vii. 26ff.). The
cynicism which runs through the Book may be
partly the result of ennui, but the sharpest thrusts
of the sting are impelled by disappointment and
vexation of spirit. The author is no voluptuary
who seeks to drown the thought of the ' unborn To
morrow, and dead Yesterday ' in the ' ancient
Ruby ' of the vine. He is a serious thinker, proud
of his ' wisdom,' who has sought thus to wrest from

tary, pp. 53!!. From the rich material laid under contribution,
the latter arrives at the conclusion ' that Ben Sira knew the work
of Coheleth and used his words as a modern writer might weave
into his work the words of Browning or Tennyson or any other
weU-known author' (op. cit., p. 55).

Vanity of Vanities 333
life its secrets, and rebels against the Divinely
appointed limitations of wisdom. Of all the writers
of the Old Testament, he has caught most of the
Greek spirit. And in his judgments of life he often
reminds us of the Greek thinkers, though at heart
he remains a Hebrew of the Hebrews.1 Thus his
Book is didactic throughout. He introduces himself
as Koheleth, the Preacher or Teacher.2 And all
1 The hypothesis of Greek influence both in language and
thought was suggested by older scholars like van der Palm, Zir-
kel, and Graetz, but was first fully elaborated by Tyler in his
Ecclesiastes (1874), and definitely adopted by E. Pfleiderer,
Plumptre, WUdeboer, Siegfried, and Cornill, who have sought to
estabhsh the Preacher's dependence either on the philosophy of
HeracUtus or more generally on the later Stoic or Epicurean
schools. The theory has been carefuUy canvassed in the recent
Commentaries of McNeile and Barton, and a thoroughly negative
conclusion reached by both. ' The book of Ecclesiastes repre
sents, then, an original development of Hebrew thought, thor
oughly Semitic in its point of view, and quite independent of
Greek influences ' (Barton, op. cit., p. 43). WhUe agreeing with
these and other scholars that the Preacher is at heart a Jew, the
tone of the Book, its frank materiaUsm, and its almost cynical
commendation of the ' golden mean ' as the only course of wis
dom, with its thought of the endless flux of Nature reducing Ufe
to mere " vanity,' seem to the present writer clearly to suggest
that he was influenced by the general currents of Greek culture
that were then sweeping over the Eastern world.
2 n?n'p,fem.partic. of Pnj7, denom. verb from ^n|5, an assembly,
hence caller of assemblies. The Greek 'EK/cXi7<riaon}s (our Eccles
iastes) thus comes close to the original meaning of the term. The
fern, is no doubt that of official status, Uke JYJ^b, scribeship or
scribe (Ezra u. 55), etc. Examples of the same usage are found
in other languages, e.g. Ar. chalifa, ChaUf, Greek ¦% k^ovaia,
the powers that be, and modern English Your Majesty, Your Lord-

334 The Poets of the Old Testament
his reflections are couched in a vein of grave serious
ness, calculated to impress upon his readers the pro
found significance of his counsel.
The arrangement of the Book has caused much
difficulty to its students. Through the first four
chapters the argument is closely developed. But
thereafter the thought is warped and broken, the
sequence of the argument being interrupted by a
wealth of proverbial lore, and occasional reflections
wholly at variance with the real philosophy of the
author. We cannot, indeed, look for perfect con
sistency in a Book like Ecclesiastes. As a transcript
from life, it must needs reflect the author's changing
moods. And if the Book be of the nature of a
Journal Intime, the latter chapters of which were
penned at intervals during some little lapse of time,
the broken structure may be readily explained. One
can hardly resist the feeling, however, that Kohe-
leth's original treasury of wisdom has been enriched
by various alien elements, the presence of which is
most easily detected in chs. vii. and x., and that his
pronounced Epicureanism has been toned down by
a series of pious annotations from some orthodox
Jew, who sought in this way to remove occasions of
offence.1 The Epilogue (xii. 9-14) is also with in-
ship (the fem. appearing in the German, Eure Majestdt, die
Obrigkeit), etc.
1 The strange contradictions in the Book have long been noted

Vanity of Vanities 335
creasing unanimity recognized as an editorial appen
dix to the original Book, the closing verses (vv. itf.)
being probably the latest element of all.
At the outset the Preacher throws into full light
his general view of life. ' Vanity of vanities, saith
the Preacher, all is vanity ' (i. 2). And this judg
ment is deduced from the constant flux of Nature and
life. Things ebb and flow. The sun rises and sets,
then ' pants ' wearily backward to the place from
which he came. The winds turn continually upon
their circuits. The waters pour down to the sea,
which yet is never full. The generations come and
by commentators, who sought to explain them by the theory of
conflicting moods, or by such an analogy as Tennyson's ' Two
Voices.' But the contrasts are too strong, and often too abrupt,
to be thus dissolved away. Bickell and Haupt attempted to
solve the problem by the hypothesis of radical dislocations in the
text ; and Siegfried followed them up by his remarkable theory
of interpolations, according to which the work of the original
pessimistic Preacher (Q1) was overlaid successively by an Epicur
ean Sadducee (Q 2) , a ' Wisdom ' and a ' pious ' glossator (Q8 and Q*) ,
besides]certain other glossators (Q5) whose work cannot be individ
ualized. Although such extreme hypotheses have failed to carry
conviction, the presence of later interpolations is now generally
admitted. Both Peake and Davidson recognize quahfications
of Ecclesiastes' view in Ui. 17; xi. gc; xii. la, as well as in the
EpUogue. McFadyen goes somewhat further ; while the latest
commentators, McNeile and Barton, in addition to ' Wisdom '
enrichments, trace the hand of the orthodox annotator also in
ii.26; vii. i86,26&,29, and viii. 2&, 3a, 5, 6a, 11-1 3, most of which
passages, in direct contrast to the general tenor of the Book,
emphasize the certainty of Divine judgment. The elimination
of these verses offers a simple solution of the difficulties, while
preserving the essential integrity of the text,

336 The Poets of the Old Testament
go. The past are forgotten, and the present must
in their turn also pass into oblivion. Thus man has
no profit of all the labour at which he laboureth
under the sun. For no result can come of his work.
' There is no new thing under the sun ' (i. 3ff.).
The same depressing conviction is borne out by
the writer's varied experience of life. The search
for wisdom to which he devoted the enthusiasm of
his young manhood is ' a sad toil that God hath
given the sons of men to toil thereat ' and as vain
and profitless as it is hard. For with all man's
wisdom the crooked cannot be made straight, nor
that which is wanting filled in and numbered.
' I perceived that this also was but striving after
wind' — a quest that brings one nowhere near the
goal, and has no return but that of increased pain.
' For in much wisdom is much grief ; and he that
increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow ' (i. I2ff.).
To a soul thus wearied with thought the rewards of
pleasure seem doubly attractive. Thus Koheleth
gave himself with zest to the enjoyments of the
banquet and the vine, and all that wealth could
purchase of social comfort and delights. But the
end was the same. Surfeit brought satiety, and
that ennui and disgust of pleasure. ' I said of laugh
ter, It is mad, and of mirth, What is the good of it ? '
And when he looked on all his possessions and enjoy
ments, ' behold, all was vanity and a striving after

Vanity of Vanities 337
wind ; and there was no profit under the sun ' (ii. iff.).
As the wise man then quietly surveyed the diverse
courses he had followed, it seemed to him that wis
dom excelled folly, ' even as light excelleth dark
ness.' For the wise man had eyes in his head,
while the fool stumbled along in the darkness. But
again his joy in wisdom was short-lived. For there
was no difference in the end. ' The same event
happeneth to both of them.' The wise man died
just like the fool. And after death there was no
remembrance of either of them, ' inasmuch as in
the days to come both will have been forgotten '
(ii. I2ff.). The highways of duty lead to the same
result. Man may toil and strive, and give of his
finest wisdom and skill to his works ; yet he must
leave it all behind him, perhaps to a fool who shall
squander his inheritance. ' This also is vanity.'
Thus there seems nothing better for a man than
' that he should eat and drink, and find enjoyment
in his labours.' And this, the Preacher feels, is the
end of life ordained by God Himself, who has made
everything ' beautiful in its time,' yet has imposed
fixed barriers on human interests and activities,
and therewith also implanted the sense of ' eternity '
in men's hearts, ' so that man cannot find out the
work that God hath done from the beginning to the
end.' It is useless, therefore, for man to struggle
against his fate, ' What God doeth, it is for ever ;
28

338 The Poets of the Old Testament
nothing can be put to it, nor anything taken from it.'
Let every man, then, ' eat and drink, and enjoy good
in all his labour,' seeing in this ' the gift of God '
(ii. i8ff.).
If we cast our eyes over the broader stage of life,
the same weariness and vanity appear on every hand.
In the place of judgment stands wickedness trium
phant. On the high roads of life are violence and
oppression, made more poignant by ' the tears of
such as are oppressed,' and have no comforter to
uphold them. And even where happiness is found,
it is for so short a time. Inevitable destiny strikes
down the righteous and the wicked, the happy and
the miserable alike. ' For that befalleth the sons
of men which befalleth the beasts ; the same thing
befalleth them. As the one dieth, so dieth the other.
They have all the same breath. And man hath no
advantage over the beasts ; for all is vanity. All
go unto one place ; all are of the dust, and all return
to dust again ' (iii. iGff.).1 Life is so uncertain and
1 'The Ufe of the great majority is only a constant struggle for
this existence itself, with the certainty of losing it at last. But
what enables them to endure this wearisome battle is not so much
the love of life as the fear of death, which yet stands in the back
ground as inevitable, and may come upon them at any
moment. Life,itself is a sea, full of rocks and whirlpools, which
man avoids with the greatest care and sohcitude, although he
knows that, even if he succeeds in getting through with aU his
efforts and skiU, he yet by doing so comes nearer at every step
to the greatest, the total, inevitable, and irremediable shipwreck,
death ; nay, even steers right upon it : this is the final goal of

Vanity of Vanities 339
miserable, indeed, that the Preacher is inclined to
praise the dead that are already dead and gone more
than the living that are yet alive ; and better than
both he counts the untimely birth that has never
been in this miserable world to see the evil that is
done under the sun (iv. 2f.). Many other in
stances he accumulates of the vanity of life : the
rich man who has no son or brother to whom he
may leave his wealth, ' yet is there no end to all
his labour, neither are his eyes satisfied with wealth '
(iv. 8), the instability of position, and the fickleness
of the mob (iv. I3ff.), the impossibility of securing
justice in the State (v. 8f.), the carking care that
accompanies all increase of worldly goods (v. ii),
the nakedness in which the richest must return to
the earth's womb that gave him birth (v. 15), the
difficulty of knowing what is really good for man
during ' the days of his vain life ' (vi. 12), the oblivion
that sweeps away the righteous and their works, for
how often has the wise man seen the wicked buried
in honour, and their names handed down for per
petual praise, while it happened to the righteous
according to the just reward of the wicked (viii. ioff .),
the uncertainties of fortune, the race falling not to
the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither bread
the laborious voyage, and worse for him than all the rocks from
which he has escaped.' — Schopenhauer, The World as Will and
Idea, E.T., I. 403.

340 The Poets of the Old Testament
to the wise, nor riches to the prudent, nor favour to
the skilled, for ' as the fishes are taken in the net,
and the birds caught in the snare, even so are the
sons of men snared in an evil time, when it falleth
suddenly upon them ' (ix. nf.), the base ingratitude
of men to the saviours of their city and homes (ix.
I3ff.), the misery of unjust or weak government (x.
5ff.), and the heavy, weary weight ' of all this unin
telligible world,' for ' as thou knowest not the way
of the wind, nor the growth of the bones in the
womb of her that is with child, so canst thou know
not the work of God, who maketh all things ' (xi.
5). And the Book ends as it began : ' Vanity of
vanities, saith the Preacher ; all is vanity ' (xii. 8).
The general tone of Ecclesiastes, then, is pessi
mistic. We might almost be reading Schopenhauer's
judgment that ' life presents itself as a continual
deception in small things as in great,' that the con
viction inevitably borne in upon us from every side
is ' that nothing at all is worth our striving, our
efforts and struggles, that all good things are vanity,
the world in all its ends bankrupt, and life a business
which does not cover its expenses.' x The more
rigid critics have not hesitated, therefore, to class
the two thinkers under the same category. In Dr.
Dillon's words, ' Koheleth's conception of life, its
pleasures and pains, is as clearly and emphatically
1 Op. cit., III. 382f.

Vanity of Vanities 341
expressed as that of the Buddha or of Schopenhauer.
He is an uncompromising pessimist, who sees the
world as it is. Everything that seems pleasant or
profitable is vanity and a grasping of wind ; there
is nothing positive but pain, nothing real but the
eternal Will, which is certainly unknowable and
probably unconscious. . . . When all has been
said and done, the highest worldly wisdom is but a
less harmful species of folly. Existence is an evil,
and^the sole effective remedy renunciation.' 1
In connexion with Agur's riddles, however, we
have noted that the very agnosticism of the Hebrews
is religious. The baffled thinker may despair of
ever knowing God's ways ; yet God Himself remains
the eternal Rock of the good man's faith and life.
The pessimism of the Hebrews was equally religious.
The Preacher might find life vanity and disillusion
ment ; and yet his belief in God would stand the
shock. There is certainly no enthusiasm in his faith.
Thought and satiety have chilled the warmer im
pulses of devotion. God is no longer the gracious
Friend, near to comfort and bless the thirsting soul,
but a great Monarch on His throne above, whom men
can only reverence and ' fear ' (v. 2f£.). But even
such pale and cheerless faith may keep one clean in
heart, and true to the compass of honest duty. Ko-
heleth's moral principles read like undiluted Epicur-
1 Sceptics ofthe Old Testament, pp. 113ft.

342 The Poets of the Old Testament
eanism. But when touched by the fear of God, his
Epicureanism becomes, not indeed the heroic virtue
of the prophet or saint, but at all events decent
moderate morality. For Koheleth the true course of
wisdom lies in the avoidance of extremes on either
side. ' Be not righteous overmuch ' — strive after
no impossible ideals of goodness ; ' neither make
thyself overwise' — struggle not to penetrate mysteries
that are too high for thee ; ' for why shouldest thou
destroy thyself ? ' But, on the other hand, ' be
not overmuch wicked, neither give way to folly (or,
godlessness) ; for why shouldest thou die before
thy time ? ' (vii. i6f.). And this principle reduces
itself in practice to the steady pursuit of sanctified
common sense on the beaten track of life. Kohe-
leth's practical philosophy is perhaps best summed
up in the following paragraph : ' Go, eat thy bread
with gladness, and drink thy wine with a merry
heart ; for already hath God accepted thy works.
In every season let thy garments be white (or, fes
tal) , and let not oil upon thy head be lacking. Enj oy
life with the woman thou lovest all the days of thy
vain life that He giveth thee under the sun ; for
this is thy portion in life, through all thy labour at
which thou labourest under the sun. All that thy
hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ; for there
is no work nor reckoning, no knowledge or wisdom,
in Sheol, whither thou goest ' (ix. 7ft.).

Vanity of Vanities 343
To the man who pursues this principle Koheleth
can promise a real measure of happiness. For, after
all, life is good, if only men use it worthily. Though
God has imposed on life its resistless round of time
and season, ' He hath made everything beautiful
(or, fitting) in its season.' And the man who accepts
his destiny in a calm and thankful spirit will find
abiding joy in life. The Preacher will have none of
the pessimistic croakings that the world is growing
steadily worse. ' Say not thou, How is it that the
former days were better than these ? For not in
wisdom dost thou ask this question ' (vii. 10). As
the winding current of his reflections draws nearer
the end, he seems even to feel something of his old
delight in life returning. ' Truly the light is sweet,
and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the
sun ' (xi. 7). And at the close he rises clear above
the prosaic temper of his preaching to a rapture of
fine Oriental poetry.
Rejoice, young man, in thy youth,
And be glad in the days of thy prime ;
Yea, walk in the ways of thy heart, and the sight of thine eyes.
Put sorrow from thy heart,
And evil remove from thy flesh —
For youth and ripe strength are but vanity — l
Ere the evil days be come,
Or the years draw nigh when thou sayest,
' No pleasure I find in them ' ;
1 On the omissions from the text, cf . p. 335, n.

344 The Poets of the Old Testament
Or ever the sun be darkened,
The light, and the moon, and the stars,
And the clouds return after rain ;
In the day when the keepers tremble,
And the men of might bend downward ;
The grinding-maids cease because they are few,
And the ladies that look from the windows are darkened ;
And the doors are closed to the street,
And the sound of the mill is low ;
And the voice of the sparrow is faint,
And the daughters of song are laid prostrate ;
When man shrinks from all that is high,
And terrors are in the way ;
And the almond-tree is in bloom,
And the grass-hopper draggeth, and the caper is fruitless ;
For man wendeth his way to his everlasting home,
And the mourners move through the street ;
Ere the silver cord be snapped,
And the golden bowl be broken ;
And the pitcher be shivered over the spring,
And the draw-wheel fall broken into the cistern ;
And the dust return to earth as it was,
And the spirit return to God who gave it (xi. gff.).1

1 The poem pictures the decaying powers of old age under a
variety of images. The darkening of the sun, moon, and stars
clearly suggests the falhng Ught of Ufe ; the keepers of the house
are the once strong hands and arms, and the ' men of might ' the
legs and feet ; the grinding-maids are as evidently the teeth,
and the ladies of the window the eyes ; the closed doors are most
probably the tightly compressed Ups of old age, and the null is
the mouth. In the next couplet we should read a word hke ~\\p\,
bow, grow faint, for DIpJ he ariseth, both Unes suggesting the tEn,
unmusical utterance of the old. The following verse depicts the
fear with which he faces difficulties on the way. The bloom of
the almond-tree is a metaphor for the whitening hair, and the
grass-hopper probably figurative of the once alert joints and
springs, while the caper-berry is a favourite Eastern stimulant,

Vanity of Vanities 345
Thus Ecclesiastes leaves us involved in the same
antinomy as Agur. Neither has been able to round
the circle. Their speculative world may be likened
rather to an ellipse revolving round two separate
foci. Such antinomies are no doubt grave defects in
a speculative system. But the besetting sin of
philosophers is to round the circle at the expense
of vital facts. The Hebrew thinkers are loyal to
different aspects of truth. They may not be able
to reconcile faith in their fathers' God with the per
plexing problems of life. But they refuse to yield
to the temptation of a premature or one-sided solu
tion. The tenacity with which moral realists like
Agur and Koheleth held fast to faith amid all that
was dark and depressing in life is a striking proof of
the invincible hope of Israel. In Cornill's judgment
' the piety of the Old Testament never celebrated a
greater triumph than in the Book of Koheleth.1
But the world of faith cannot remain forever an
ellipse. A just conception of God must harmonize
with the facts of life. And already in the additions
which now fails to excite the appetite. The silver cord, the gold
en bowl, and the pitcher and draw-wheel are other symbols for
the life which vanishes with the severance of the spirit from the
dust. In this latter verse there is no real hope of immortality
expressed. Death is conceived in terms of Gen. ii. 7, where Ufe
is given through the ' breath ' or " spirit ' of God, and comes to a
natural end when God takes back His " spirit.'
1 Einleitung5, p. 280.

346 The Poets of the Old Testament
to Koheleth the attempt is made to reach this
higher view. The problem is still more resolutely
attacked in the later Wisdom of Solomon (c. 100-50
B.C.). The second chapter of this Book is a direct
protest against the Preacher's low, materialistic
theory of life. But the real advance of Wisdom
starts from one of Koheleth's own most pregnant
thoughts. The impossibility of knowing God's
works ' from the begining to the end ' he had con
nected with the sense of ' eternity ' that God had
implanted in the heart. To Koheleth, indeed, this
feeling but induced ' obstinate questionings
Of sense and outward things,
FalUngs from us, vanishings;
Blank misgivings of a Creature
Moving about in worlds not reaUzed.'
But to deeper reflection these same misgivings are
real ' intimations of Immortality.' This inevitable
outcome of the sense of ' eternity ' is clearly per
ceived by the author of Wisdom. Even for the
bravest of the Psalmists immortality had been a
leap in the dark. In Wisdom it is an assured hope.
For God created man to be immortal,
and made him an image of His own Being (ii. 23).
The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God,
and there shall no torment touch them.
In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to die,
and their going was counted an evil,
their departure from us destruction.

Vanity of Vanities 347
But they are in peace.
For though in men's sight they have suffered the penalty,
yet is their hope full of immortality (iii. iff.).
There is still, no doubt, an antinomy in the world of
faith. The glories of the life beyond are rather set
in contrast with the troubles of this present time
than viewed as the full fruition of faith. In another
passage of Wisdom (viii. 17) immortality is directly
involved in the good man's spiritual alliance with
wisdom. But the ripe development of this thought
is reached only in Christian mysticism. For here
' eternity ' is not merely projected into the future,
but made a real abiding inheritance of all the sons
of God. ' This is life eternal, that they should know
thee, the only true God, and him whom thou didst
send, even Jesus Christ ' (John xvii. 3).

INDICES

GENERAL INDEX
Agnostic tendencies in the Old Testament, 302ft.
Agur, Words of, 268L, 3041!., 345L
Ahikar, Wisdom of, 260
Anointed of the Lord, The, 74L, i88f.
Anthologies of Hebrew Song, 66ff., n6fi., 31711.
Anthropomorphisms in the Psalter, 126L
Arabic poetry, Qualities of, 6, oi., 17, 21L
Aristotle, 54 n., 61 n., 218, 281 n., 28271.
Asaph, Psalms of, 105:8.
Assyro-Babylonian poetry, Metre of, 17
„ „ ,, Musical accompaniments, 6off.
Balaam, Oracles of, 38ff.
Battle-songs in the Old Testament, 278.
Bedouin proverbs, 2566.
Ben Sira, Wisdom of, 106 n., 114 n., 26off., 28ifL, 298L,
33if-
Blessing of Noah, 37I ; of Isaac, 38 ; of Balaam, 38ff. ;
of Jacob, 4off. ; of Moses, 42
Book of Jashar, 6oi .
,, the Wars of Jahweh, 67L
Business life in Proverbs, 2726.
Canticles, see Song of Songs.
Choirmaster's Psalter, The, io8f.
Dance in ancient Israel, The, 53L
David's Elegy on Abner, 45L ; on Jonathan, 46f. ; his
relation to Psalmody, aoi.
* David, Psalms of,' iooff . ; ' Prayers of,' 103L
Deborah, Song of, 27, 3iff. 351

352 General Index
Ecclesiastes, Charm of the Book, 32gf . ; date and author
ship, 33off. ; Greek influence on the writer, 333 ;
later interpolations, 334L ; the author's survey of
life. 335tf. ; his pessimistic vein, 340L ; moderate
morality of the Book, 34if . ; brighter outlook towards
the close, 343I ; moral antinomy thus involved,
345f. ; approaches to a solution, 346f.
Ecclesiasticus, see Ben Sira.
Elegiac measure in Hebrew, i8ff., 7iff.
Elihu, Speeches of, 213ft.
'Elohim, Use of, in Psalter, 106, 128
Elohistic Psalter, the, io6f.
Exile, Sorrow and despair of the, 189ft. ; new hope and
life, ig2ff.
Ezekiel, Relation of, to Lam. ii. and iv., 76 n.
Fear of God, in the Psalms, 159L ; in Proverbs, 264ft.
Folk-poetry in the Old Testament, 23ft.; vintage-songs,
24L ; harvest-songs, 25 ; shepherd-songs, 25 ; well-
song, 25L ; songs of Nature, 26f. ; battle-songs,
27ft. ; satires, 351!. ; national songs, 37ft. ; songs
of festivity, 42ft. ; lamentations, 44ft. ; religious
songs, 47ft.
Folly in Proverbs, 275:8., 288L
Fool, The, as the ' Godless ' man, 120, 206 n.
Forgiveness in the Psalms, 136, i6gff.
Freedom, peace, and happiness of the good, in the Psalms,
l62ff.
Friendship, in Proverbs, 28 iff.
Gnosticism, Beginnings of, in Proverbs, 295ff.
God, in the Book of Psalms : primitive conceptions, 120,
122, 129 ; His essential unity, i2off. ; His exaltation,
yet nearness to His people, 122ft. ; His personal
Being, i26f. ; the Divine names, 127L ; His ethical
character, 129ft. ; truth, righteousness, perfection,
purity, and holiness, 130L ; love and mercy, 132ft. ;
the universal sweep of God's love, 135ft. ; as shield,
rock, sun, etc., 138L ; as motherbird, Goel, Shepherd,

General Index 353
and Father, 139ft. ; the glory of God in Nature, 142ft. ;
the image of God in man, 153ft. ; God the Source of
immortal life, 179ft. ; the Kingdom of God, 185ft.
Golden Rule, Approaches to, in Psalms, 162 ; in Job, 246 ;
in Proverbs, 280L
Goodness, Ideal of, in Psalms, 159ft. ; prosperity and
happiness of the good, 162ft. ; the good man of
Proverbs, 271ft.
Greek influence on the Book of Proverbs, 269L ; 297ft. ;
on Ecclesiastes, 333I
Hallel Psalms, 112L
Harma, Song of, 42 n.
Harmonies, Tonal, in Hebrew poetry, 5ft.
Harvest-songs in the Old Testament, 25
Hebrew poetry, its ' simple, sensuous, and passionate '
genius, iff. ; its picturesque force, 41. ; its har
monious effects, 5ft. ; parallelism, lift. ; rhythm
and metre, 15ft. ; strophic arrangement, 2of. ;
rhyme, 2 if. ; range of, 23ft. ; essentially religious
character of, 478.
Heraclitus, 297 n.
Hesed, fatherly love, 134I
Hodd Psalms, 112I
Holiness of God, 131L
Home life in the Psalms, 111, 165L ; in Proverbs, 283!!.
'I,' The, of the Psalms, n6f.
Imagination, Boldness of Hebrew, 5, 35
Immortality, Hope of, in the Psalter, 172ft. ; in Job,
240ft. ; in the Wisdom of Solomon, 346L
Imru'1-Kais, 27 n., 145 n.
Instrumental music in the Old Testament, 54ft.
Isaac, Blessing of, 38
Israel, Jahweh's righteous rule over, 187ft.
Jacob, Blessing of, 40L
Jahweh in the Psalter, i28ff. ; His appearance in Job,
2i5fi., 248ft, 23

354 General Index
Jahweh, Book of the Wars of, 67!
Jamnia, Synod of, 310, 329
Jashar, Book of, 6gi.
Jeremiah, Relation of, to Lamentations, 71ft. ; to Job, 208 n.
Jerusalem, the Psalmist's joy and pride in, i87f. ; the
metropolis of a God-fearing world, 194ft.
Job, Book of : literary character of, 202L ; problem of
203f . ; contrasts between Prologue and poem, 204ft. ;
origin and date of prose section, 206S. ; the poem
of Job, 2o8fE. ; the dramatis personcs, 210 ; dislocations
in the text, 21 iff. ; the speeches of Elihu, 213ft. ; the
Divine appearance, 215ft. ; the solution of the problem,
218ft. ; the poetical quality of the Book, 220ft.
Job, the patience of, 223ft. ; the spiritual drama of, 229ft.
Jonathan, David's Elegy on, 46L
Joshua, Battle-song of, 35
Joy of religion in the Psalter, 159
Jeremiah, Relation of, to Lamentations, 71ft.
Khayyam, Omar, 44, 332
Kindh measure in Hebrew, 18 ft., 71ft.
Kingdom of God in the Psalms, 185ft.
Koheleth, 333 ; see also Ecclesiastes.
' Korah, the Sons of,' Psalter of, 105!
Lamech, Song of, 21, 27
Lamentations in Israel, 44ft.
Lamentations, Book of : its literary form, 1 8f ., 71 ; its
relation to Jeremiah and Ezekiel, 71ft. ; authorship
and dates of the different lays, 75ft. ; translations,
78ft.
Law, Love of, in Psalms, 163! ; place of, in Proverbs,
263ft.
Lemuel, Words of, 269
Love and mercy in the Psalms, 132 ff., i6off.
Maccabean Psalms, The question of, 106 n., 113!
Man in the Psalms : his kinship with Nature, 148!, 153 ;

General Index 355
his Godlike dignity, 154 ; as the friend of God, 155ft. ;
his joy in God, 158!. ; likeness to God in character,
159ft. ; freedom, peace, and happiness, 162ft. ; sin
and forgiveness, 167ft. ; immortality, 172ft.
Mashal as satire, 35 ; as proverb, 257L ; as parable, 257
Masktl, 102 n.
Melodies, Early Hebrew, 25, 27, 50ft.
Messiah of the Psalter, 198ft.
Metre, Principles of Hebrew, 8ft.
Miriam, Song of, 28
Mikhtdm, 102 n.
Mizmor, 102 n.
Morality in the Psalter, its rehgious basis, 159L ; its
lofty standard, i6of. ; its close relation to common
life, i6if.
Morality in Job, 246f . ; in Proverbs, 266ft. ; in Ecclesi
astes, 341L
Moses, Song of, 29I ; Blessing of, 42
Mosh'lim as rhapsodists, 67
Musical accompaniments of Hebrew Song, 50ft.
„ notes in the Psalter, io8f.
Nature, the Hebrews' love of, 27 n. ; in the Psalms, 142ft. ;
the inner life of Nature, 146L ; sympathy between
Nature and man, 147L ; Nature the work of God,
148I ; Nature's praise of God, 149I ; Nature a
revelation of God, 150ft.
Nature-songs in the Old Testament, 26f.
Noah, Blessing of, 37!
Odes of Solomon, see Solomon.
Paneas, 145, 148
Parallelism in Hebrew poetry, lift.
Patriotism in Proverbs, 259ft.
Philo, 30of.
Pindar, 54 n.
Plato, 1, 54 »., 281 n., 3001.
Poetry, Characteristics of, iff.

356

General Index

Proverbs, Nature and origin of, 255I ; essence of Hebrew
proverb, 257ft. ; ' proverbs of the ancients,' 258L ;
' proverbs of Solomon,' 259ft. ; ' proverbs of the
wise,' 26of.
Proverbs, Book of : growth of, 261ft. ; date of different
parts, 263ft. ; humanistic standpoint, 264I ; rehgious
value, 265L ; beginnings of speculation, 268ft. ; the
good man of the Proverbs, 271ft. ; the thoughts of
the wise, 295ft.
Psalter : the ' heart of the Bible,' 97L ; origin and growth
of, 99ft. ; the ' Psalms of David,' iooff. ; the ' Prayers
of David,' 103I ; the Psalms of Asaph and Korah,
io5f . ; the Elohistic Psalter, io6f . ; the ' Choir
master's Psalter,' io8f. ; the ' Songs of Ascents,'
inf. ; the HallU and Hodu groups, H2f. ; Macca
bean Psalms, 113L ; completion of the Psalter,
114ft. ; its literary quality, n8f. ; its rehgious
value, 119ft. ; God, Nature, life and immortality in
the Psalter, 120ft. ; the Kingdom of God, 185ft. ;
vindictive elements in the Psalter, 162, 178, 190ft. ;
approach to Christian universalism, 162, 192ft.
Psalter of Solomon, see Solomon.
Rahdmtm, motherly compassion, 135.
Rhythm in Hebrew poetry, 8ff.
Rhyme in Hebrew poetry, 2if.
Righteousness of God in the Psalms, 129ft.
Samson, and his satires, 37 ; his riddles, 257
Sayings of the Fathers, 268
Selah, zogi.
Sheba, Battle-song of, 27L
Sheol, Conception of, in the Old Testament, 175, 240ft.
Shepherd-songs in the Old Testament, 25
Shiggdydn, 102 n.
Sihon, Satire over the city of, 35I
Sin and forgiveness in the Psalms, i68ff.
Social life in Proverbs, 277ft.

General Index 357
Solomon, his song of Dedication, 49 ; literary impulse of
his reign, 68 ; his relation to the proverbs of Israel,
2591-
Solomon, Odes of, 114 n., 301I, 311
,, Psalter of, 113 n., 200
,, Wisdom of, 43I, 299I, 346!
Song in ancient Israel, 23ft. ; its musical quality, soff . ;
instrumental accompaniments of, 54ft.
Song of Songs : literary charm of, 309 ; acceptance into
Canon at Synod of Jamnia, 310 ; allegorical inter
pretations, 310ft. ; dramatic theories, 3i4f. ; an
anthology of love and marriage songs, 315ft. ; date
of songs, 317I ; Northern origin of, 318 ; transla
tions, 319ft.
Songs of Ascents, 13, 19, inf.
Sophocles and the problem of suffering, 219I
Speculative philosophy, Beginnings of, in the Old Testa
ment, 295ft.
Stanzas or strophes in Hebrew poetry, 2of.
Suffering, the problem of, in the Psalter, 172ft. ; in Job,
202ft.
Tehillah, 119
T'phillah, 102 n., 119
Temperance, Inculcation of, in Proverbs, 279
Temple, Love of, in the Psalter, 155ft.
Vindictive element in the Psalter, 162, 178, 190ft.
Vintage songs in the Old Testament, 24I
Well-song in the Old Testament, 25I
Wisdom in Proverbs, Ethical quality of, 27of . ; personifi
cation of Wisdom, 2g6f . ; Song of Wisdom (Job
xxviii.), 212, 302ft.
Wisdom of Soldmon, see Solomon.
Wise men of Israel, 260L ; thoughts of the wise, 295ft.
Worship in the Psalms, Spiritual essence of, 158ft.

INDEX OF AUTHORITIES

Aben Ezra, 117 n., 125
Akiba, Rabbi, 310
Aquila, 109, 297 n.
Aquinas, Thomas, 311
Baentsch, 36 n.
Baethgen, 118 rt., lygn.
Barbour, J., 258 n.
Barton, G. A., 331 n., 333 rt.
335**-
Beer, 118 n., 244 rt., 249 rt.,
252 n.
BeUermann, J. J., 15I, 19
Bengel, 113 n.
Bernard of Clairvaux, 311
Bickell, 17, 78 n., 82 n.,
83 w., 124 w., 253 w.,335^.
Blake, Buchanan, 216
Blake, William, 147, 151 n.,
218 n., 220
Bossuet, 313L
Briggs, 106 n., now.
Biicher, Karl, 9
Budde, i9f ., 26 n., 34 n.,
48 rt., 68 n., 76ft., 2o6f.,
213ft., 3161.
Buhl, 181 n., 194 n.
Burkitt, F. C, 49 n.
Burns, 14
Calvin, 113 n., 117 n., 134 «.

Carlyle, 2, 222
Cheyne, 117 n., 135, 179 n.,
216 n., 218 n.
Cornill, 52 n., 207 rt., 215 rt.,
264 n., 333 n., 345
Dalman, 26 n., 317, 321
Davidson, A. B., 204, 2ioff.,
241 n., 262L, 335 n.
Davies, T. Witton, 48 n.
Davison, W. T., 118 n.,
179 n., 217 n.
Delitzsch, Franz, 102 n.,
204, 331 n.
Delitzsch, Fried., 203 rt.
Dillmann, 203 f ., 206
Dillon, E. J., 203 n., 306,
340I
Driver, 215 n., 264 n., 315
Duhm, 21, 113 n., 118 n.,
124 rt., 133 n., 146 n., 179
n., 199 n., 2o6ff., 241ft.,
302 n.
Dyserinck, 83 n., 94 n.
Ehrt, 114 n.
Ewald, 80 n., 102 n., 105 %.,
204 n., 314
Frankenberg, 264
Fullerton, Kemper, 114 n.

368

Index of Authorities 359

Gall, von, 38 n.
Godet, 204I
Gray, G. B., 39 n.
Gummere, 45 rt.
Gunkel, 41 n., 118 n.
Haupt, no n., 318 n., 335 n.
Heine, 329
Hengstenberg, 117 n., 119,
179 n., 215 n.
Herder, 4 n., 5 n., 14I, 314
Hitzig, 113 n.
Holzinger, 39 n.
Jerome, 72 n., 109
Josephus, 58, 63, 72 n.
Kautzsch, Karl, 205 n., 207
n.
Kennett, R. H., 113 n.
Kennicott, 211
Kimhi, 117 n.
Kittel, 31 n., etc.
Kuenen, 15, 264 n.
Lane, E. W., 52 n.
Lanier, Sidney, n«.
Ley, Julius, i6f., 19
Littmann, E., 2%n, 317
Lohr, 80 n.
Lowth, lift., 18, 313L
Luther, 98 n.
McCheyne, 312 n.
McFadyen, 89 n., 215M.,
335 n.
McNeile, A. H., 331 n.,
333 w., 335 w.
Meier, Ernst, i6f.
Milton, 3 n., 220

Miiller, D. H., 21
Miiller, Eugen, 203 rt.
Musil, 26 n.
Niebuhr, 309
Nilus, 26 n
Noldeke, 75 n
Nowack 264 n.
Olshausen, 113 n., 117 n.
Origen, 311
Palm, van der, 333 n,
Peake, A. S., 203, 212ft.,
335
Pfleiderer, E., 333 n.
Plumptre, 331 n., 333 n.
Raschi, 117 n., 211
Renan, 310 n., 315, 329
Reuss, 117 «.
Riedel, 311 n.
Robinson, Wheeler, 318 n.
Rothstein, 17, 21, 315
Rudinger, 113 n., 117 n.
Rutherford, Samuel, 312
Schechter, 114 n.
Schmidt, Nath., 207 «., 216
n., 318 n.
Schneller, Ludwig, 64 n.
Schopenhauer, 338 «., 34of.
Shelley, gf.
Siegfried, 331 n., 333 w->
335 n-
Sievers, 17
Skinner, 41 «., 49 n-
Smend, Rud., 117 «.
Smith, G. A., 46 rt., 49 ».,
79 »., 80 «., 145 n.

360 Index of Authorities

Smith, Walter C, 273 rt.
Smith, W. Robertson, 49 n.,
nyn.
Stade, 36 n.
Studer, 216 n.
Tennyson, 202, 335 n.
Thackeray, St. J., 49 n.
Theodore of Mopsuestia,
113 rt., 313

Toy, C. H., 264 n., 277 n.
Wallaschek, 59
Weir, T. H., 26 n.
Wellhausen, 49 n., 57 w.
180 n., 195 n., 206
Wetzstein, 3 161.
Wildeboer, 215 n., 333 n.
Wordsworth, 1, 340, 346
Zirkel, 333 n.

INDEX OF SCRIPTURE REFERENCES

Gen. ii. 7 .
iv. 21 .
iv. 23I
v. 24 .
ix. 25ft.
x. 9. .
xxiv. 60
xxv. 23
xxvi. 27ft
xxxi. 27
xlix.1. 10 .
Exod. xv. iff.
xv. 20f.
xxxi. 27
xxxii. 18
Lev. xxiii. 24
xxv. 9 .
Num. x. 2ff.
x. 351-
xxi. 14L
xxi. 171.
xxi. 27ft.
xxiii., xxiv
xxix. 1
Deut. xxxii.
xxxiii. .
Josh. vi. 5 .
X. I2f.

PAGE
345 n-
60, 62
• 27
181 n.
37*-
. 258
• 42
• 38
• 38
43. 63
. 4of.
• 44
18, 2gf.
28, 53, 55
• 63
• 48
¦ 57
¦ 57
• 58
48, 68
361, 67f.
. 26
• 35*-
38ft.
• 57
21, 71
4if.
• 56
35. 69

Judges iii. 27
v. v. 3. .
v. 11, 15
v. 12
v. 22, 26
vi. 34 .
xi. 34 .
xi. 35 •
xi. 40 .
xiv. lift.
xv. 16 .
xvi. 24 .
xxi. 21 .
1 Sam. ii. iff.
x. 5ff. .
x. 12 .
xiii. 3. .
xvi. i6ff.
xviii. 6f.
xix. 24
xxiv. 14
2 Sam. i. i8ff.
ii. 28 .
iii. 33f-
vi. 5 .
vi. 14ft.
viii. 2 .
xv. 10 .

PAGE
¦ • 56
31ft., 68
. 12
• 25
• 27 7
• 56
28, 53ft.
¦ 45
• 44
43, 257
• 37
22, 37
• 54
42 n.
54. 6°S-
258f.
• 56
• 63
81, 53ff.
¦ 259
. 258
46L, 69
• 57
45f-
55f., 62ft.
• 54
36 rt.
¦ 57

361

362 Index of Scripture References

PAGE

PAGE

2 Sam. xviii. 16

• • 57

Job xviii.

. . 238f.

xviii. 33 .

• • 45

xviii. 19

81 n.

xix. 35

• 43 n-

xix.

¦ 239, 243

XX. 1

. . 28

xix. 23L

• • 243f.

XX. 22

• • 57

xxi. 7ft.

• 239, 245

1 Kings i. 34 .

• • 57

xxi. 1 if.

¦ 43. 53, °°

i. 40

. . 60

xxii.

. . 221,245

iv. 32L

. 260

• • -245

viii. I2f.

• 49, 69

xxiv.

. 20 n., 211

xiii. 30.

• 45

xxv.

. 211, 245

XX. II .

¦ • 259

xxvi. 5ft.

. 211

2 Kings ii. 1, gf.

. 181 n.

xxvii. 7ff.

.211,245

xi. 14 .

¦ 58

xxviii. .

. 212, 302L

1 Chron. xv. 17ft.

. 107

xxix.-xxxi.

XV. 20f.
• 65
8, 20 n.,
212, 246ft.
xvi. 5 . .
. 62
xxix. 13
¦ • 43
xxv. 5f.
• 56
• • 44
2 Chron. v. 12
• 58
xxx. 31
. . 60
v. 13 . .
65, no
xxxii.-xxxvii . 213ft.
xxxv. 25 .
44. 72
xxxviii., xxxix.
Ezra ii. 41 .
. 107
2151., 248ft.
ii- 55 • ¦
533 ™-
xl. 1 ft., 205, 216, 253
Neh. vii. 44
. 107
xl. 15 — xii
34- 215L
xii . 27 .
• 63
xhi. iff. 216, 218, 254
Job i., ii. . .
223ft.
xiii. 7S.
205, 227f.
iii. iff.
. 229
Ps. i. . .7,
12I, 100 n.,
iii. 13ft.
8, 180 n.
142,
159I, 165
iv., v. .
229L
ii. . 7f.,
12, 100 n.,
vi., vii.
23°f.
116
127, ig8f.
vi. 8ff. . . .
. 240
iii., iv. .
. 102, 135
viii.
• 232
iv. 7f.
138, 159,
ix., x. .
232ft.
i
163
x. 22 .
. 240
V. . . .
60, lOlf.
xi 
. 236
236f.
xii., xiii.
V. 12
• • 135
xiv.
241L
vi., vii.
. 102
XVI.
239f.
vi. 5 . .
• • 175
Index of Scripture References 363

PAGE
Ps. vii. 4f  162
vii. 9, 11 . . 135!
viii. . 8, 101, 103,
144, 150, 153I
ix., x. . . 100 rt., 101
ix. 7f  186
ix. 9 . . . . 138
x. iff  177
x. 18 . . . . 136
xi. 4ft. . 122, 126, 131
xiii. 3 . . . 180 n.
xiv. . . . 101, 120
xv. . 101, 139, 155,
i6of., 165
xvi. 5 . . . .139
xvi. 8 . . . . 126
xvi. iof. . 101, 103,
136, 182
xvii. 7 . . . . 134
xvii. 8 . . . 135L
xvii. 14! . 102L, 179
xviii. 2 ... 138
xviii. 7ft.
123, 129, 145, 149
xviii. i6f. . . 135
xviii. 23 . . . 160
xviii. 25L . . . 127
xviii. 30 . . . 307
xviii. 31ft.
100, 103, 126, 129
xix. iff. . 101, 103,
144. I5I
xix. 7ft. . 103, 1631.
xix. I2f. . . . 171
xix. 14 . . 1381-
xx. . . 10 1, 122, 188
xxi. . . 101, 188

PAGE
Ps. xxii. . 27, 101, 116,
176, 194
xxiii. . 8, 19, looff.,
I39I-, 155
xxiv. iff.
101, 122, 160, 163
xxiv. 7ft. 20 n., 100,129
xxv. . . 101, 103,
132ft., 163, 166
xxv. 6ff. . . .171
xxvii. . 19, 10 1, 103,
122, 134ft., 155
xxviii. 8f. . . 101
xxix. . 13, 101, 103,
145L, 149, 151
xxx. 54, 134, 136,175
xxxi. 8, 15 . . 163
xxxii. 102I, 136, i68f.
xxxiii. 63, 100 n., 186
xxxiii. 5 . 132, 151
xxxiv. . 101, 135!, 163
xxxiv. 12ft. . . 165
xxxv. 13I . . 162
xxxvi. iff. 159. *73
xxxvi. 5ft. . 103,
133I, 138/149, 151
xxxvii. . ioif., 127,
165, 174, 177
xl. . . . 126, 134
xl. 6f£. ... 159
xiii., xliii. . 105, 144L,
148, 155I,
xliii. 4 . . . .63
xliv. . 105, 106 n.,
126, 191
xiv. . . 2o»„ 27,
43 n., 105, 189

364 Index of Scripture References

PAGE

PAGE

xlvi. . 105, i2g,

Ps. lxxix. 13 .

• • 139

138, 148, i87f.

lxxx. 1

¦ • 139

xlviii. 2 . 80 rt., 187

lxxxi. 2

. . 56

xlix. . . 105, 179ft.

Ixxxi. 13ft.

• ¦ 193

1. 2  187

lxxxiii. .

. 106 n.

1. 8ft  159

lxxxiii. 13ft.

. ig2

li. . 104, 136, 159L,

lxxxiv. .

108, i3g,

i6gf.

144, 156ft.

Iii. 5 . . . .178

lxxxv. 7ft.

108, 132L

liii  103

lxxxvi. 8 .

. 121

liv., Iv. ... 104

lxxxvi. 15 .

. . 132

lv. 6 . . .144, 178

lxxxvii. .

to8, ig4ff.

lv. 22 . . . . 163

lxxxviii. ioff

• ¦ -175

lvi.-lviii. 25, 27, 104

lxxxix. 6f.

. 121

lvi. 13 ... 136

lxxxix. 8ft.

. 129

lvii. iff. . 104, 132,

lxxxix. 14L

. . 186

134. 139

lxxxix. igff.

. . 189

lix. 8 . . . . 127

lxxxix. 26L

. . 141

lx. 5ft  104

xc. 112, 122:

- 143. 172

Ixi. 7 . . . . 158

xci. . . 112

, 158, 165

lxiii. 3, 7 . .134, i3g

xcii. 3 .

. • 63

lxv. . 104, 133, 136,

xcii. 12.

• • 143

143, 147ft., ig7

xciii.-c. 112,

123, 197

lxvii. 2ff. . . . ig7

xciii. 3..

¦ • 145

Ixviii. 18, 56, 104, 141

• • 139

Ixviii. 7ft. . . 122

xcvi. 1 if. .

147. 149

Ixix. 12 ... 44

xcvii.

• i97f-

Ixix. 23ft. . . . 178

xcviii. 2f. .

• ¦ 133

Ixx., lxxi. . . . 103

xcviii. 8f. .

• ¦ 147

Ixxii. . 104, 189 20of.

c. . 20 n.

116, I3g

Ixxii. 16 . . . 143

ci. 2ff.

. 160

lxxiii. . 105 n., 182L

cii. 113, 144

166, 187

lxxiv. . . . 106 n.

ciii. . 137!,

I43f- 155

lxxiv. 13ft. . . 129

civ. . 123, 1

43I, i48f.

lxxvii. 7ft. . . 134

cvii. .

¦ • 136

Ixxviii. 65I . . 127

lxxix. . . . 156 n.
Index of Scripture References 365

Ps. ex. .
cxi. 3L
cxii. 6 .
cxiii. 4ft. .
cxiv. 4ft. .
cxv. 2ft.
cxviii. 113,
cxix.exx.-exxxiv. .
exxi. iff. 13,
exxii. exxiii. 2
exxiv. 7
exxv. if. .
cxxvi. 4, 5f.
exxviii. 2f.
in,
exxix. 8
exxx. 4
exxxiii. 111,
exxxvi. iff.
cxxxvii. 2 .
cxxxvii. 7ft.
exxxviii. 6.
cxxxix.cxiv. 18
cxlvii. 3ft. .
cxlviii. .
cxlix. 3
cl. .
Prov. i.-ix.
i. 7 .
i. 10
i. 24ft.
ii. iff.
iii. n
iii. 13ft

PAGE iggf.
• 132
. 166
. 124
• 147
I2lf.
134. !39
112, 164
Illf.
136, 143
. Ill
• ¦ 158
• • 144
• • 143
• • 143
143, 165
. 48
• 136
143, 165
• 134
63, 148
112, igo
• 125
I25f.
. 124
• 125
I49L
54. 56
54. Il6
268f.
. 270
. 289
. 2g2
. 269
• 293
. 292

Prov. iii. igf.
iii- 27-35
iii. 27L
iv. iff.
iv. 16 .
iv. 25ft.
iv. 18 .
v. iff. .
vi. 1-19
vi. gff.
vi. 20ft.
vii. iff.
viii. 15I
viii. 22ft.
ix. iff.
ix. 10
x. I-XXll1 .
2.4*9, 25
15
23
x. 27
xi. 11
xi. 15
xi. 18
xi. 22
xi. 26
xi. 28
xii. 4
xii. 10
xiii. 3
xiii. 11
xiii. 20
xiii. 24
xiv. 4

26

2gf.

PAGE
. 2g6
. 268
. 278
. 287
• 277
. 28g
• 2g3
. 28g
. 268
• 275
. 28g

265 n., 2g5
26g, 2g6f.
. 2g8
. 272
264ft. . 286
• 275
• 273
. 2g2
• 274
• 277
. 272
. 2gi
. 276
• 2g4
. 288
• 277
¦ 275
. 288
. 280
. 278
• 275
. 282
. 286
• 273

COUC<u s-<
(^

u
-M
• 1—1 u
CO

E

o

xi

t^vO

rt-O

00

r-. io

¦*

Ol

ui

0*0

Ol

Ol

o

(1

l^

N

r^oo

Ol

t"^ kO

t>-

(^

r^

1^

1^

t^oo

OO

r>oo

ft

M

N

N N

<N

N

N

N

«

N

N

N

0) M

IS

n

N

roOCOujaiO .-HOOOOiHuJiON
OiOliO*! r--t^jti00 N00 00 i£l in M»

N N N " N N
. . . 0)

Oioo
00 00
N 0)

h ro h
00 <c <o
N N N

N

X X

>ou
a.

• x

H
N iO 00
'9 'i 'i
XXX

>
¦ X X I

¦H"B x x

N CO Ol
N N N

i-i --H -iH
XXXxxx

X X

'x X
X X

) lO Oi
:fl :H
¦iH -f-l •
X X
X X

O H

Th . • •
M N N H tj *H
™ " " XiOoo

.£ .£ > > > >
X S X X X X
X X X X X "

X

lO
5?"

N

Ol

no in
h N M

IO NOO N
' O 00 H H H N

> > •?' -pi v f 'f f f f f
 xx-X X

> .
X X X X X
X X X X X

HH

MX

H O it N OS O OOO fOVO tJ- rj- M 00 rOOO NOlOOO Tf- N ~ ^ O O "O OWO N Tt- lO O n ^" "OOO CO
(5 00 NN NOO D NCO 00 Oi O Ol O 00 O 00 NCO N00 X *- 00 00 00 N ts NCO N NOO Oi N NCO O
s  *> 

so CO

A

Ti- io
C4 M

M

o

vO

Ol

M

¦f

!>¦ 0
H N

„

N

¦*¦

>

cs

M

<s

ro

<"> w

<£>

00

H

IM

X

>

>

>

>

> ^

> >

•>-t >

•>

>

-.H >

>'

X

X

X

X

X X

X X

X

X

X

X

f. 00* H ng £j Jf
Ol H i-i IN CT

rt- NCO rt-
N W M W N !

:a:3

+ 10 H

*N 00
HON

> 'S '5 > ^ c; '^ > "> X X X X X u

X X X X
X X X X

x "x 'U 'x 'x
X X X X X

Index of Scripture References 367

PAGE

PAGE
Prov. xxvii. 23ft. . . 273
Song iv. i2ff. . . . 323
xxviii., xxix. . 263ft.
v. iff. . .
¦ 324
xxviii. 4ft.
. . 263
v. ioff.
• 324
xxviii. 6
• • -274
vi. 8ff.
¦ 325
xxviii. 12,
15 . . 291
vii. ioff.
. 326
xxviii. 13
• ¦ • 293
viii. if.
• 326
xxviii. 20
¦ • -275
viii. 6f.
515, 327
xxix. 2ff.
. 291
viii. gff.
327I-
xxix. 5
. . . 278
Isa. v. iff.
. 24
xxx.
. 269, 304ft.
v. 12 .
60, 63I
xxxi. 1-9
. 269
ix. 3 . .
• 25
xxxi. 10-31. 270, 284L
xiv. 11
64
Eccles. i. 2 .
• • • 335
xvi. 10
25
i. 3ff- •
¦ • • 336
xvii. i2ff.
7
i. I2ff.
• • ¦ 336
xxiii. 16
63
ii. iff. .
¦ • 33°*-
xxiv. g
43
ii. 12ft.
• • -337
xxvii. 13
57
ii. i8ff.
• • 337f-
xxix. 14
260
iii. i6ff.
¦ 330, 338
xxx. 29
60
iv. 2f. .
• 331, 339
LXV. 8 .
25
iv. 8-viii.
ioff. . 339
Jer. vii. 34 .
43
v. 8f. .
¦ 330, 339
ix. 17ft.
45
vii. 10 .
¦ • • 343
xviii. 18
260
vii. i6f.
¦ • -343
xx. 14ft.
. 208
vii. 26ff.
• 332
xxii. 18
¦ 45
ix. 11-xii
8 . .340
xxv. 30
• 24
x. 5ft. .
• • • 330
xxxi. 29
• 258
x. i6f.
• • • 331
xlviii. 33
¦ 24
xi. 7
• • 343
xlviii. 36
. 61
xi. gff.
• • • 343
xlviii. 45
40 n.
Song i. 2ft. .
• 315, 3l8
Lam. i. .
. 85ft.
i. Tf. .
. . • 3J9
ii.
78ft.
i. gff. .
. . • 3*9
ii. 1.
76 rt.
ii. iff. .
• -315,320
ii. 4.
yyn.
ii. 8ff. .
. 8, 18, 320
ii. 9
¦ ¦ 74
iii. iff. .
• -315,321
ii. 14
• 74, 77 »•
iv. iff. ,
¦ . 3221.
ii. 15
-
•
76 n.
368 Index of Scripture References

PAGE

PAGE

Lam. iii.

. . gift.

Amos iii. 6 .

¦ • 57

iii. 14 .

• • 44

v. 16 .

• 45

iv. .

82ff.

v. 23 . .

49, 64

iv. 6

76 n.

vi. 51. . .

• 43

iv. 17ft.

¦ ¦ 74

Nah. ii. 3ft.

7

iv. 2 if.

76 n.

Zech. iii.

. 207

v.

8gff.

ix. 14 .

• 58

v. 14L .

43. 54, 63

Mal. ii. 17 ; iii. i^

[ ¦ 207

Ezek. xii. 22

• • 25g

Matt. vi. 26ft. .

. 2ig

xiii. iff.

77 rt.

ix. 24 .

180 n.

xiv. 14, 20

. 206

xi. 17 .

¦ 53

xvi. 44

. . 258

xxii. 32

. 184

xvi. 46ft.

76 n.

xxiv. 31

• 58

xviii. 2

¦ ¦ 258

John i. 14 .

¦ 3QI

xix. 4, 8

76 n.

xi. 11 .

180 n.

xxi. 32

41 n.

xi. 25L

. 184

xxiv. i6ff.

77 n.

xvii. 2 .

• 347

xxvii. 3L

76 n.

1 Cor. xv. 52 .

¦ 58

xliii. 7 .

77 rt.

Gal. iii. 28 .

• 197

Dan. iii. 5ft.

. 61,564

1 Thess. iv. 16.

• 58

Hos. v. 8 .

• 57f-

Heb. i. 3 . .

. 301

Sutler and Tanner, The Stlwood Printing Works, Frotne, and London

¦ ¦' •