Ethics

The treatment of this subject is in- volved in a certain amount of dilficulty, from the fact that while the ethical character of the whole Jewish dispensation is strongly and unmistakably marked, tiiere is no ethical system, strictly so called, in the Bible at all. The ethical ideas, like the metaphysical ideas, underlie the histories, the prophecies, the legislation, and the writings of the apiMtles ; they are not deduced or criticised, but as.-<umed as premises.

For such a purpose as that of the present article they have to be ex- tracted and presented systematically ; and there is always danger that when this is done some greater precision of definition may be given to the ideas than they really possessed. There is another difiiculty, even greater than this, which arises from the critical discussions recently raised over the authorship and date of books. This pres.ses more hardly on the student ol OT ideas than of Christianity.

For even if the date of individual books of the NT be uncertain, the margin of uncertainty is comparatively narrow ; and the period within which they all must fall is, comparatively speaking, a short one. Hence critical questions may be neglected without any serious loss. But with the <)T it is ditl'erent.

We can no longer take for granted tlie traditional order or date of the books; and, what is much more serious, the period within which they must all have been written is a very long one, so that it would be unreasonable to expect tliat the ethical foint of view can have suH'ered no serious change, t is obviously impossible to discuss the various critical questions by the way.

We can only call attention to the part they play in the whole dis- cussion of our present subject, and then leave them aside. The plan of the present article is, then, to set forth the ethical ideas in the Bible, as far as possible, without reference to the literary history of the books, following such order as the subject itself seems to require. I. In the OT AND Apocbypha.

— The first point requiring attention is one of great imjiort- ance, which will have decisive significance in regard to our whole subject-matter. With the partial exception (considered later) of the Sapien- tial Books, tlie whole of the Jewish Scriptures are under the sway of religion. The ruling idea of life was conditioned by the prevalent conception of God, and the peculiar relation in which the Jewish people stood towards Him.

Hence the larger portion of the discussions with which othei ethical writings have ma<le us familiar, has no place whatever in Jewish literature. Greek ethi- cal speculation busied itself with the questions of the end of life, or the ideal order of life, or the nature of virtue, or the sanction of the moral law. But to the Jewish mind all these questions were prejudged by the peculiarly close relation of religion with life.

The God they worshipped was to the Jews the source and the sanction of the moral law. Their moral evolution consisted in their gradual discovery of the full meaning of their primary ethical conviction. Their notion of the content of the ethical idea varied as time went on ; their history is, in a sense, reflected in their ethical evolution.

Things which at one time were thought compatible with the due worship of God, cease to be thought so ; but the general relation in which they stand to God remains un- disturbed : morality is, to them, the embodied will of God. It follows necessarily from this that there are, roughly speaking, two, and only two, questions for the Jewish moralists. (1) What conduct does God command? (2) What conduct does God forbid?

Why He ordains or prohibits one or another line of conduct does not matter to them. They are concerned only with the fact. The answers to these remoter questions may, to some extent, be revealed in the process of moral evolution, but they are not of {)rimary interest or importance. The central question is that of the actiutl content of the divine law. It might seem, at first sight, as if this theory of the moral law must exclude a people from any marked development in ethical matters.

The most cursory glance, however, at the actual facts would destroy this supposition. The law of God is adapted to various stages in the progre.is of the people, and enforces the morality characteristic of the stage at which they are. It is obvious that this must nc(es.sarily have been the ca.se. If, as the Jews believed, (iod Himself revealed the moral law to them, it must necessarily have been in terms which they could understand.

It would have been idle, for instance, to promulga'e to a nation, as yet only in the tribal stage of its exist- ence, a law which assumed the existence of settled civic ideas. Thus the conviction of the special union of God with His people, and interest, in their moral life, affects the character of the evolu- 778 ETHICS ETHICS tion of ethical ideas, bat does not prevent their real growth. (A) The Pentateuch and the Historical Books.

— Tlie note of law is struck in the account of Paradise and the Fall. In this story we have all the elements of the ethical idea as it presented itself to the Jews. God gave a command wliich man disobeyed. In like manner the sin which led to the Flood was disobedience or rebellion against God. The law of murder, enacted after the Flood has disappeared, is given as a definite act of legislation on the part of God (Gn 9^"').

In the same way the sin of Sodom is represented as an outrage upon God ; and the destruction of the cities as the judgment of God. When we reach the times of Abraham the same phenomena appear in a more complex form. The intercourse between God and man, of which the covenant after the Flood was typical, is concentrated and intensified in the relation of God ^\'ith Abraham.

A demand is made for a more complete and detailed obedi- ence ; and the rite of circumcision has a special significance assigned to it. The special covenant is based on the readiness of Abraham to accept the guidance of God; cf. Gn 17'- ^ 'The Lord appeared to Abram, and said unto him, I am God Almighty : walk before me, and be thou perfect. And 1 will make my covenant between me and thee, and will multiply thee exceedingly.'

The same idea of a covenant is sustained throughout the whole history between Abraham and Aloses ; the people are regarded as standing in a peculiar relation to God, and bound by it to certain lines of conduct. The protection and interest of God in tlie chosen family is represented as a thing w hich they are bound to cherish with the greatest care, and it is implied throughout that the arrange- ment is jjart of a larger scheme.

The sin of Esau consists in the neglect of this covenanted right of access to God ; and the blessing of Jacob consists in his fitness to be the vehicle of the covenant- relation, rather than in any commendation be- stowed upon his own character. Whatever may be the literary history of the books in which this story is preserved, there is no doubt that it represents the belief of the Jewish l>eoi)le, and, that being so, it characterized their ethical ideas.

But it is important to notice also the area of moral action covered by the commands of God. We have already noticed the prohibition of murder, and the condemnation of Sodom. Apart from these, the morality consistent with the stage of civilization so far attained is implicitly per- mitted.

There is no condemnation of polygamy ; the fraud of Abraham upon Abimelech is not con- demned, though its uselessness is displayed by the action of God ; and, in like manner, Jacob's fraud upon Isaac is shown to be unprofitable by the fact of his exile. At the same time the witness of God is sought in order to preserve the validity of treaties (Gn 26-''°^), and His worship is regarded as distinct from that of many other deities.

There is little sign at present of any elaborate moral reform depending on the covenant-relation ; and the morality of the people as it is described is strictly governed by principles which prevail in the patriarchal stage. What is new and has the germs of much of the future development in it, is the intensification of the idea of the tribal God.

The relation asserted between God and the family of Abraham is peculiarly close and far-reaching in ita character ; and the ground is prepared for the substitution of a moral for a physical or tribal ba.sis of the covenant. The ne.xt stage in the history as it is presented in the OT books is marked by the Levittcal let/is- lation. It is here, probably, that tlie dithcuUies caused by critical discussions reach their highest point.

In pursuance of our plan we shall describe, first, the facts of the legislation as they stand, and reserve such discussion as there is space for, of the bearing of criticism upon the matter. Under the head of the Mosaic legislation we have to con- sider the Decalogue, the Priestly Code, and the Deuteronomic exposition of the Mosaic law. This will involve a brief consideration of the meaning and character of Sacrifice, and the meaning of Sin. Of the Decalogue it is not necessary to say much.

We need only call attention to the fact that it consists of two distinct parts : one con- taining prohibitions concerning man's relations to God, the other dealing more directly with ordinary social questions. Tlie Decalogue throws compara- tively little light on the condition of society at the time of its promulgation.

It deals with acts forbidden before, such as murder and idolatry ; but its last three sections imply the existence of a settled mode of life different from that of the patriarchal family. Theft, false witness, and covetous desire belong to a social state in which there existed within the social whole various houses or families holding property. The process of f I'voiKiff^As must have taken place ; but bej'ond this there is nothing that can be said definitely.

It is, however, important to notice that the command- ments come with the imprimatur of God upon them, and that the covenant-relation is alluded to in the prefatory verse as it stands in Ex 20^ : ' I am the Lord thy God, which brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.' The Priestly Code consists of a number of regu- lations which are largely ceremonial in character.

The laws of ceremonial uncleanness and other kindred matters are precisely defined : the great occasions of the ecclesiastical year are ordained, and the ritual due to them established. Further, the various types of sacrifice are described, the occasions on which they are to be performed, and the method of performing them. In regard to the whole of this legislation, we need only for our present purpose to call attention to two points.

In tlie first place, it is important to observe that the whole order is rested upon the covenant, relation with God, and, more than this, that the character of God is placed in definite connexion with the rules laid down. The holiness of God requires this elnljoiate ceremonial order to pre- serve it from the contamination of h.asty and unfit intruders, and to retain the condition of the peo]ile at a level high enough to enable tlicm to use their covenant privileges.

This is proved by the refrain which recurs at intervals in the course of Leviticus — 'I am the Lord'; and by such marked [ihrases as the following : ' Ye shall not profane my holy name ; but I will be hallowed among the children of Israel ; I am the LORD which hallow you, that brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your God ; I am the LoRD ' (Lv Sa'^-^). But, in the second place, it is no less important to notice the extraordinarily limited moral ranjjje of the laws enacted.

In Lv 6 there is a short list of moral delinquencies which require the atonement of a guilt ollcring. These consist chieily of broken pledge and other forms of dis- honest dealing. Besides this there are sacrifices ordained for sins of ignorance : ' If any one shall .sin unwittingly, in any of the things which the Lord hath commanded not to be done, and shall do any one of them ; and if the anointed priest shall sin so as to bring guilt upon the people ' (Lv 4'-^).

If we are instilied in referring this command to the legislation which appears in Exodus, it will include a certain number of other moral delinquencies. Thus, besides the Deca- logue, there are regulations concerning assault and murder, the proper treatment of slaves, the ETHICS ETHICS 779 relations of parents and children, and specially concerning idol-worship and magic.

Besides these there are ordinances referring to lost property ; the duty of actively aiiiing the restoration of straying animals is inculcated ; the poor are re- membered, and severe condemnations passed upon those who judge unjustly.

The service for the Day of Atonement is placed in close connexion with the unwarranted intrusion of the sons of Aaron into the presence of the Lord (Lv 16'), and is apparently intended to do away with ceremonial breaches of the covenant, relation, though the ritual would lend itself easily to a deeper mean- ing. See Atonement (Day of). The legislation in the Book of Deuteronomy, as it stands at present, covers a good deal of the ground of the preceding books.

It repeats and further develops laws elsewhere laid down. There is the same rigorous condemnation of idolatry, the same care for justice and equality between man and man, and the like. But there is a more pro- nounced insistence on the moral character of God, and the close relation of God to the people in view of His moral character. He is repre.

^ented as demanding exclusive worship, but as being faithful and long-suB'erinfj (Dt 7"), caring not only for the people of His choice, but also in a special de^ee tor the fatherless and stranger. The characteristic feature of Dt is that which it is now the f:isliion to call its pnrenetic tone ; it goes so far, indeed, as to find a spiritual meaning for circumcision as opposed to that which is purely ceremonial.

Moreover, the relation of the people to God is presented in a more spiritual manner : the ' first preat commandment of the law,' ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all tliy soul, and with all thy mind,' is in Dt 6'.* It has seemed hardly consistent with the subject of the present article to go into any preciseness of detail as regards the Pent, legishition.

Enough, hoivever, has been said to establish the truth of the position maintained at the outset, that morality for the Jew meant that which God had commanded ; immorality, that wliieh God forbade. It is obvious that the 15k. of Dt takes a slightly diilerent view of moral life from that which is expounded in Lv.

Tlie laws concerning the functions of judges (12"- »), the kingly olhce (IT""-*), the single central shrine, and the killing of animals for food (1'2"), clearly contemplate, either in fact or in anticipa- tion, the position of a settled nation. Similar cases might be quoted from the earlier books. But whereas in Lv the largest portion of the look concerns the ritual order in the land of Canaan, the Bk. of Dt is chiefly concerned with the religious effect upon the people.

One fact, however, U noticeable about a]l the tKX>k8 alike, and that ia the highiy archaic character of the re^latiorm them- ■elvea. The law and the ritual of sacrifice, the importance Ifiven to ceremonial pollution, the pnicticca connected witfi the avenprer of tilood, the ui*e of liie Uz taliunig, the le% irate law of marriage, the use of the ordeal, are all of them archaic in char- actor, and must have Bun-ived into later JudaiHm out of an archaic state of society.

As in other cases upon which anthro- pology haa thrown much light, practices have survived after their primary mcanitig has been lost. It is therefore reasonable to suppose that the evolution of ethics among the Jews followed ■oniothing like the same course as among other progressive nations.

Uaving been flr^t CTpressed in terms analogous to those of early humanity all the world over, the distinctively moral elementa were disentangled from the moss of nidimentary ideas, and took their place as the ruling principles of the religious polity of Juflma. It has sometimes been maintained that the elaborate cert-inoniat is a subsequent development to the more spiritual attitude of iJeuteronomy. This is surely Inconsistent with the t^'aching of anthropology.

The more spiritu 4l conceiJtions rise naturally out of the less spiritual ; the moral trutn breaks loose from the half-savage priictice in which it was enshrined. It ia almost inconceivable that this order should be reveracd ; and that the mind of the nation should have passed from a lofty spiritual conception of life to The second, Tbou shalt love thy neighbour u thyself, occurs Id Lv 1918. one that belongs by natural a.ssociation to minds lar^ly buried in liialter.

The clmracleristic note of this legislation is that God takes command over life as a whole, and, while the actual condition of the people is left unaltered, the way is prepared for further progress. The fundaiuentJil ideas as to right and wrong and the proper means of conununicating with the national God are left unmodified ; but practices are condemned which degrade and materialize the life of the nation and its conceptions of God.

* It has often been obeerred that the indications of the operation of the Levitical law are rare, if not altogether non-existent, in the historical books. It is certainly true that the sui)remacy of the sanctuary at Shiloh, and then later at .Jerus., falls considerably short of the unique sanctity ascribed in the law to the central shrine of .J". Further, tliere are no records of the celebration of the legal feasts till the time of the later kings.

It is plain that the worship of J" had not established its hold upon the common people; they are continually liable to defections to the gods of neighbouring races. Moreover, the unity of the people is hardly attained ; there are obviously differences of opinion and interest between various tribes. These facts and others like them have been quoted, reasonably enough, as bearing on the literary history of the books of the law.

They do not affect what has been said above as to the archaic character of many of the legal enactments. And we may say even more than this. The records contained in the historical books are the records of a people emerging from the tribal state into that of national life.

The assumptions of such a state of thing's underlie the action of Jael : they are displayed in the wars of extermination which form a somewhat repellent feature (to modem eyes) in the history of the invasion of Canaan, and in Samuel's de- nunciation of the Amalekites ; they appear in the attitude of the Jews towards the gods of the neighbouring tribes, stUI more noticeably in such a story as that of the Levite and his concubine (Jg 19. 20), or that of Micali the Ephraimite {ib. 17. 18).

The means by which the change is eflected is, to a large extent, the institution of the Kingship. It is this that prevents the separate action of the separate tribes, and develops the idea of a justice which is due to an individual, as opjiosed to the tribal notion according to which the tribe, not the individual, is the unit. At the same time it is clear that J" is regarded as the protector of moral rights.

David, for instance, commends Abigail for preserving him from the sin against the Lord that reckless vengeance implies (1 S 20""-). The eating of blood is a sin against J" (1 S 14") ; there is, to use a modem phra.se, a taboo upon the shew- bread oit'ered to J" ; t and otlier cases might be ?uoted showing that, though evidence is lacking or a complete ecclesiastical organization. rucIi as is described in the Pent.

, much of tne legislation embodied therein (and therefore the morality implied by it) dates from a time in which these social ideas prevailed. {B) The Prophetical Literature. — We must now turn to the prophets and endeavour to estimate the importance ot their work in the ethical develop- ment of Israel. They are rightly identified with the higher moral progress of the people ; but it is neces.

sary in dealing with them, more even than with any of the otlier UT authors, to remember that tluir writings are occasional and not sj-stem- atic. They deal with the comlition of the people as it appears to them, they comment on the vices which arrest their attention, and they give special weight to the ellcct of these lines of conduct on the field of politics. • Of. Lv IS" 20' «, Dt 12" etc t It is not accurate to say, with Wellhausen {Prolftj. p. ISl, Eng.

tr), that there is no dislinctioo between boly and unholy ia the matter of the shew-brcad. 780 ETHICS ETHICS The cycle of ideas in which tlie prophets move is much the same in outline, though of course Bome speak more precisely and fully than others. (a) The most conspicuous feature in their moral doctrine is their sense of the union of tlie nation with God, and the interest of God in the moral development of men.

Condemnations of idolatry and of all forms of defection from the proper allegiance to God are frequent in the prophetic books. The nation is described under tlie figure of a bride, bound by the marriage-tie to J", and continually breaking it. This appears in Is, Jer, Ezk, Hos ; it will not be necessary to quote passages in illustration of so familiar a phrase.

The practices most frequently condemned are unrigliteous judgment, oppression of the poor, and various forms of luxury and extravagance, especi- ally drunkenness. These do not take us much beyond the ideas which appear in the earliest legislation. The development is to be found rather in the application of the ideas which have already prevailed, and in the appearance of some of the problems which necessarily belong to moral life. Thus the theory of evil receives some considera- tion.

We have seen that the ceremonial legis- lation referred largely to ceremonial pollutions. It may possibly have teen due to this association that the presence of evil was treated as a taint which aflected others besides the actual sinner. On the other hand, holiness or righteousness was also regarded as a state which was efl'ectual as a preservation against judgment.

Thus in Abraham's colloquy with God (Gn 18) the presence of righteous persons is admitted as a reason for suspending the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. There is, of course, a real moral difficulty con- tained in this doctrine. It must be remembered that eWl is inseparably connected by the Jews with acts of rebellion, i.e. with Individual self-will and disobedience.

If, therefore, others who have not taken part in the sin are involved in its con- sequences, it is obrious that a serious question must be raised as to the definition of responsibility, and the relation of responsibility to guilt. We find in Is a sense of the polluting etiect of the presence of evil. Thus in the account of his call to the prophetic work (6') he says : ' Woe is me, for I am undone ; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell among a people of unclean lips.'

Isaiah expresses the general etiect of evil in the people, and acknowledges its influence upon him- self. It is, further, a general doctrine of the OT that the guilt of sin extends to those who are con- nected with the sinner, as is expressed in the second commandment. These ideas give rise to several lines of moral speculation. In the first p'^^i^e.

the sense of individual responsibility is gieutly strengthened, so that we find in Ezk a definite restriction or correction of the principle laid down in the Decalogue. Thus (ch. 18"), ' 'Tlie soul that sinneth, it shall die : the son shall not bear the ininuity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son ; the righteous- ness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him.'

This position is carried out on the side of virtue also; the presence even of the three men, Noah, Daniel, and Job, shall not avail to suspend judgment upon a sinful city (Ezk U"-^'), nor shall righteousness at one time prevent judgment if a soul relapse into wickedness (Ezk SS'""- ). Responsi- bility belongs to the individual soul for actual things done, and for nothing else.

On the other hand, the prevalence of evil and the uncertain incidence of affliction absolutely prevent the adoption of the view that each man IS punished simply for his own sins. Evil enters far too deeply into the constitution of things to be explained on the.«e terms.

Hence we find in le and elsewhere the view expressed that God works through evil, and leads men to higher things This notion is involved in the idea of visitation , it gives meaning to the metaphor of the refining fre ; and it expresses itself in the doctrine of the faithful remnant. These are they on whom suffer- ing and trouble have done their proper work ; they have learnt the lessons which God was teaching them. This conception reaches a climax in Is 5.S.

The boldness in language, which is so characteristic of the prophets, is nowhere more noticeable than in some isolated statements to be found on tin subject of evU. Not content with describing the probationary functions of it in the divine order, both Amos and Deutero-Isaiah speak of it as the direct etiect of God's action. ' Shall evil befall a city, and the Lord hath not done it ? ' Am 3'.

' I form the light, and create darkness ; I make peace, and create evil ; I am the Lord that doeth all these things,' Is 45'. These passages, in which 'evil' has not the moral sense but =' calamity,' ' misfortune,' are not inconsistent with the con- demnation of sin ascribed to God, and with His character as elsewhere described. Their real aim is to express in the sharpest form the absolute supremacy of God over the whole course of things.

(A) A second point in regard to which the pro- phetic attitude is fairly consistent is the contrast between ceremonial performance and real morality. The emphasis laid by the prophets upon the moral law, the growing sense of the holiness of God, the comparative lacK of moral reference in the cere- monial legislation, are factors in this development. Sacrifice in various parts of the world has tended to pass from an act of communion into an act of commerce.

Instead of being a means of reopening intercourse that had in some way become sus- pended, it is a process of barter by which some- thing valuable is given up or destroyed in order to secure some gain. Further, the tendency to polytheism — so rife in Palestine during the time of the kings — rests upon an assumption that it ia worth while to make friends with a variety of gods in hopes of bonefits to be received from them.

This theory, as well as the other, is inconsistent alike with the ceremonial law as we now read it, and with the prophetic doctrine of God. In pro- portion, therefore, as the sense of moral conditions to communion with God prevailed over every other, it became necessary to insist on the in- adequacy of sacrifice in itself as a means of re- ligious approach. This law is a common subject of the declamation of the prophets. We find it in Is (1'"-"), Jer (6'9-» etc.), Hos (2" 6«), Am (ch.

6), Mic (ch. 2), Zee (7"), and many other places, and in a most elaborate form in II Is (58). In all these, the close relation of J" to His people, their sinfulness and His hatred of sin, are the basal assumptions. It is the sense of the failure of material means of intercourse, and the difficulty of the more spiritual view of moral life, that gives force to the whole doctrine of salvation. The moral character of God was itself an assertion that evil was not final.

If the means at hand of getting rid of it were inadequate, God Himself must take measures to remove it. The one thing certain is that it cannot remain unmodified ; the holiness if God forbids tliis. Hence we find God continually represented as longing to pardon — rising up early and sending His prophets — that men may come back to their allegiance, and realize the blessings of the covenant-union.

The two ideas are here held together — the separation from God caused by sin — the prospect of forgiveness from the side of God. It would take us into the region of theology, pure and simple, if we discussed this matiei further ; but it is impossible to avoid reference to ETHICS ETHICS 781 It, as it is the characteristic feature of the ethics of the prophets, and is perhaps »n inevitjible result 01 the peculiarly theoloj^ical tone of the ethical thought of Israel.

It has already been observed that the ordinary list of virtues and vices in the prophets falls roughly under the same heads as those in the law. They are vices or virtues connected with the intercourse of man with man ; in other words, thev are political rather than ethical, in the narrower sense. They belong to the political activity of the prophets, and express their influence upon the ordinary life of the State.

There are, besides these, certain other conditions mentioned from time to time which are more purely subjective. Such is the peace which comes to those who are in true union with God, which the wicked can never share. But these are not the most frequent types of virtue. For these and such conditions we must go to the Psalms. (C) The Psahru really require a treatise to themselves to set forth their ethical contents adequately.

They have formed men's devotional handbook for century after century ; and this, in spite of the fact that they are full of national feel- ing, and are unmistakably Jewish. There are frequent allusions in them to the situation of the Jewish people in politics or warfare ; they must have been written, in many cases, like the pro- phecies, in close connexion with various political events. Yet their Bi;,'nifieance is never exhausted.

They have the twofold right to perpetuity, that they regard the current history in the light of the permanent principles that underlie all history and all life, and that they present these in the form of the highest poetry. The Psalmists see in the events of their own day the manifestation of the divine laws, and it is often this aspect of them alone which they present.

Hence the task of datin" the Psalms is no easy one ; the particular immediate event is often lost in the sense of the universal laws, the working of which it displays. In this connexion, as before in this article, we must dis- claim any intention of discussing or deciding the dates of the individual psalms, and conline our- selves to a general presentation of the moral indi- cations in the book as a whole.

As before in Jewish writings, we have to notice the decisive way in which the character of God is represented as the rule for the character of man. A very striking exi)ression is given to this prin- ciple in Ps 18*>-'» (KV) : ' With the merciful thou wilt show thyself merciful ; with the perfect man thou wilt show thyself perfect ; with the pure thou wilt show thyself pure ; and with the perverse thou wilt show thyself froward.'

The reference of all this is put beyond question by the next verse : ' For thou wilt save the alllicted people ; but the haughty eyes thou wilt bring down ' (cf. Ps 25"-"' Ol'"- ", and many other passages). Here, therefore, in the moat decisive way, the character of God is represented as the moral ideal. If we ask, further, for greater detail in regard to this divine char- acter, we find many points of contact with the books already considered.

It is a commonplace throughout the Psalms that God has a fiery hatred of evil. This is especially disjilaycd in a hatred of »11 forms of oppression. ' For the spoilin" of the poor, for the Hi;;hing of the needy, now will I arise, saith the Loud' (12"). 'Depart from evil, and do good ; seek peace, and pursue it. The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous, and his ears are open unto their cry. . The righteous cried, an<l the Loud heard, and delivered thum out of all their troubles.

"The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart, and savcth such as be of a contrite spirit ' (34"-'"). It is probably this care for the poor that leads, both in the I's and I)t, to the condemnation of usury (Ps 15') and of un- righteous judgment (Ps 82 throughout). But the Psalmists take us much further than this con- demnation of wickedness. God is represented as a God of loving-kindness — that is, looking with interest and love upon mankind.

It is this char- acter wliich, if tlie phrase may be used, accounts for and is expressed in the special intimacy be- tween the Lord and His people. ' Tlie earth is full of the loving-kindness of the Lord' (Ps 33») : it is 'in the multitude of the loving-kindness' of God that the Psalmist goes to the temple (Ps 5') : ' He showeth loving-kindness to his anointed, to David, and to his seed for evermore' (Ps IS"").

The merciful nature of God shows itself in two directions : in forgiveness and in judgment. "The two are not apparently regarded as incompatible. He is full of compassion and gracious, slow to anger and plenteous in mercy ( Ps 103"). ' If thou, Lord, shouldcst mark iniquities, O Lord, who shall stand ? But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared' (Ps ISO"-^). At the same time, upon those who work wickedness, the judg- ment of God falls severely and relentlessly.

' Thou settest them in slippeiy places ; thou casteth them down to destruction ' (Ps 73" etc.) The character of God as thus described forms the model of the true follower of J". His central motive is that of love and adoration to God ; but, at the same time, he so far identifies himself with the cause of God that he too burns with anger against the wicked. This is partly the explana- tion of the tone of unmodilied hatred that I)ervades certain psalms (esp. U9. 109).

It is not merely the annoyance of a person whose will is crossed, and who vents himself in petulant cursing of those who stand in his way. It is the wrath of the person who feels that God's cause is attacked throujjh him, and who is persecuted by the powers of evu. Such a condition is no doubt a perilous one ; but it is important to observe that these psalms by no means stand alone. The echo of conflict pervades the whole book.

The course of this world is largely atlected by the presence of sin and unfaithfulness. The followers of God are not by any means in the majority ; nor do they always prevail against their enemies. They pass through times of oppression, of menace, of per- secution ; they are the victims of treachery in the house of friends ; they see the ungodly in apparent "eliled and produces the fury against the enemies of God, already men- tioned, together with some other remarkable con- ditions of mind.

It is to this — the apjjarent triumph of the enemy — that we must assign the sense of being forsaken by God Himself which appears in Ps 22 ; to this also is to be traced the perplexity of mind as regards the providence of God which appears in Ps 73. The moods in which this i)roblem is approached vary greatly. At times it produces deep depression, almost desjiair ; at times it is treated (as in Ps 37) with calm and quiet triumph.

But it is important, for it is to the Jewish mind the fundamental problem of ethics, to account for the lack of apparent balan.'e between a man's lot and the life he leads. The idea of the probationary value of suffering appears in some iilaces ; but the full dLscussiun of the problem belongs rather to the Sapiential Books than to the Psalms. It would not, however, be true to suppose that all the evil in the world is due to the action of the enemies of God.

There are in many places signs that sinfulness is regarded as a trouble that touches even the good. It erects a barrier between the soul and God which sacrifices and burnt-ofl'er- ings are powerless to break down. In one place prosperity, and the holy things of God de insulted. This condition of the world 782 ETHICS ETHICS (Ps 51') it seems to be regarded as affecting the actual birth of men.

The man stands in solitary responsibility before God (49' 51) j and the essence of sin consists in not having the heart right (78). Together with this sense of incapacity and weakness may be classed the yearning after God which marks Pa 42, and the passionate enthusiasm for the service of God whicli appears in Pss 119 and 84. There would be no difficulty in extending largely this account of the ethical features of the I'salms ; but the space at our disposal does not permit it.

We therefore can only point out here the general character of the whole oook. It is essentially a book of reflective devotion. The whole of life is viewed from the point of view of the worship of and intercourse with J". It never reaches the point of ethical theory, even in regard to the ethical problem noticed above. The solution, so far as any is oflered, is always spiritual and religious, and not philosophical. {!)) The Sapiential Books.

— It is in these only that we find any definite ethical philosophy among the Jews ; and even in these, speculation moves over i a restricted area. As in otlier nations, speculation begins in the proverbial form ; the farst moral philosophers were men who spoke proverbs. These trace their intellectual lineage to the wise king Solomon, who was wiser than Ethan the Ezrahite, and Heman, and Calcol, and Darda, the sons of Mahol . . and who spake three thousand i)ro- verbs (1 K 4'"-).

These /)rowri*, if we may judge from the Bk. of Pr as we have it, were of a some- what utilitarian tone. They started with the assumption that virtue leads to worldly success and happiness ; and they dwelt on this relation with various degrees of insistence. They were maxims of ordinary prudence, rather than speculations as to ultimate moral problems, and the religious view of all these questions was somewhat left on one side.

Moral practice is still closely allied with the fear of the Lord, but its natural outcome is expected to appear in the form of worldly pros- perity. Thus 3*- "> ' Honour the LORD with thy substance, and with the first-fmits of all thine increase : so shall thy barns be tilled with plenty, and thy fats shall overflow with new wine.

The reflections upon life which till up the larger portion of the book are also somewhat subdued in enthusiasm, and seera to lack in some degree high moral inspiration. But it must not be supposed that commonplace utilitarian reflections are the sum of the contents of the Sapiental Books. It is to these that we must trace the development of two of the most striking of all the ethical figures of the OT— the Wise Man and the Fool.

The wise man is he whose life is orderly and well arranged — the man who follows the law of the Lord. The fool is he who is self-willed and sinful, and whose life therefore lacks principle, and fails to attain success. A large portion of the antitheses in the Bks. of Pr and Sir present the contrasted pictures of these two characters.

They are seen in various relations of life ; but the essence of the two char- acters lies in their different relation to the law of the Lord ; for the fear of the LORD is the be- ginning of knowledge (Pr 1', Sir l'"). 'All wisdom is the fear of the Lord, and in all wisdom is the doing of tlie law' (Sir 19'). The grossest forms of transgression, as well as the less im- pressive, are regarded as acts of folly (see esp. Pr 7«-", and comp. Pr 10«- » 13" H- " etc.)

It is noticeable that the nature of wisdom and of folly consists, not in an accurate intellectual knowledge of things, but in a prudent or imprudent ordering of life. The wise man shows his wisdom by his right choice, his far-seeing plans, his control of passion, and avoidance of all self-assertion. The fool is he who does the exact opposite of all thest things. See FooL.

It IS this notion of a wise ordering of practical life which reappears in the far more magnificent conception which we owe to these books — of the wisdom of God. This is conceived partly as an attribute of God, partly as a counsellor standing, as it were, by the throne of God. According to the latter view, which appears in some of the finest passages in these books, wisdom was the counsellor and helper of God in the creation of the world (Pr 8, cf. Wis 10, Job 28^ etc.

), and has been conspicuously embodied in the law (Sir 24^). Wisdom is the power that guides the history of man, and has watched over that of the chosen people (cf. Wis lO'"-). Hence the previous con- nexion between morality and wisdom is explained. Man's wisdom consists in following out the em bodied wisdom of God in the law. This particular character of the divine wisdom brings us back to the consideration of the problems which, as has been already pointed out, appear in the Psalms.

The problem of the true relation of virtuous action or righteousness is set forth, ai" in a tragedy, in the Bk. of Job. The author empha-sizes the fact that Job was free from all blame in the truest and strictest sense. He bewails his misery — the cruel change of fortune which comes upon him; but in it all 'he sinneii not.' He neither rejected the verdict of his conscience, which acquitted him of wTong-doing, nor called in question the supreme justice of God.

In this he proves superior to the popular opinion on such matters, as it is represented in the utterances of the friends. And the justification of his attitude is found in the answer of J" out of the whirlwind, the point of which consists in the assertion of the variety and mysteriousness of the activity of God. The question is not solved by any philosophical formula, but is referred simply to the nature of God Himself. In the Bk. of Ec we find a much more gloomy point of view.

In this case the obscurity of the whole matter presses very hard upon the author's mind. He is impressed with the apparent futility and lack of coherence in the life of man ; he can see no purpose served and no object attained by the pursuit of ^visdom, or the indulgence of pleasure, or tlie enjoyment of high place. Everytning lies under the doom of vanity ; there is no profit under the sun — nothing that endures, and can satisfy man's desire for the enduring.

Under these circumstances he approaches the form of ethical thought which, in modem times, is called pessimism. Indeed he only falls short of it in so far as he finds the good of man in the giini adherence to the com- mandments of God (if Ec U'^ be genuine). In both these works the general view of the life of man is closely akin to that which we have had occasion to notice before.

It is noted (Job 1') that Job rose up early in the morning and offered burnt- offerings according to the number of them all (i.e. his family), ' for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and renoimced God in their hearts.' He deemed it neces.sary to provide against in- advertences of this sort as regards God, and this of course adds to the impression of his complete virtue.

In later chapters we find the usual emphasis laid upon the protection of the poor, and the wickedness of oppression (cf. ch. 24. 31' etc.), upon purity (ch. 31), and justice (29"). In like manner, oppression is one of the things which attracts the attention of the preacher (Ec 4'"), as well £13 the vanity of the eflTorts of the righteous, when death conies and cuts short all that he is planning to achieve.

We may now review briefly the drift of this very imperfect sketch of the ethical ideas of the OT, ETHICS ETUICS 783 It seems that the central feature of OT morality is that it is religious ; it b grafted on to the national faith and worship.

But this must not be taken to imply that the ceremonial order was indissolubly bound up with the moral ideas ; the various sacri- fices, and the like, are, on the whole, held apart from the definite scheme (so far as there is one traceable) of virtues and vices. It would be truer to say that the ceremonial order and the ethical code are two co-ordinate developments of the one principle — the holiness of J".

The character of God was the final rule of the life of man, and the archaic details of sacrificial purification were tilled with this meaning ; the great holiness of God demanded cfvutious approach. On the other hand, the general impression left upon the mind by the history of the people and the reflections upon their life is one of considerable simplicity. The acts condenmed, the ideals commended, belong to a comparatively simple condition of society.

Acts of violence and oppression are the chief burden of denunciation ; the tendency is manifest to exact usurious interest ; and there are some few other forms of sin noticed, such as drunkenness and impurity. But the real depth and value of Jewish moral teaching is found, not in the political or social sphere, but in the religious life.

It is in the Psalms and in those passages of the Prophets which come nearest in tone to the Psalms that we find the permanent and supreme value of the Jewish notion of life. Varieties of religious emotion and aspiration such as we find in these forms are pos- sible only to a people whose whole ethical outlook is religious. II. In the NT. — Wlien we pass over into the NT we come into an atmosphere which is in many respects strikingly difrerent from that of the OT.

In the first place, the literature covers a com- paratively small area in point of time, instead of containing history and tradition from a long series of ages. Hence the type of life and thought, though there are signs of rapid development in it, is much the same throughout. further, the history in NT describes in fragmentary style a single life, and the results which flowed, from its activity.

We are not concerned with the history of a people, but of a body that was included in, but claimed to be wider than, the firmly estab- lished Roman Empire. Our knowledge of its external history is comparatively slight ; the empha.si.1 falls on the development of its mind.

Hence, while a large portion of OT requires to be explained out of tlie political history of the time, the tone of NT is more definitely moral, and deals more positively with the qualities and errors of individual minds ; it is ethical rather than political. And once more, the NT stands in much closer relation to our own modem experience than any- thing in the OT.

At the best, it is always diflicult to pet back to the point of view from which the OT writers spoke and wrote ; there is much which it requin'S careful argumentation to explain at all. But with the NT this is different. In spite of the ob\'ious dill'erences of national character, and the effects of all the history that has happened since, we still feel that we understand and are in sympathy with the ethical attitude of those who wTote the NT books.

Indeed, the fact that they seem so little Btrange is the measure of their effect. On the other hand, there are points of very close contact between the OT and the NT. We do not find the same external conditions, hut the moral attitude is much the same. The morality of the NT is essentially a religious morality ; it stands in verj' close relation to the worship of (iod.

That which was hope or a-spiration under the old covenant is fulfilled in the new ; the access to God, which was before an object of longing, is attained through Christ ; the forgiveness, the laek of which so seriously complicated the ancient religious etibrts, has become possible through Christ. This is, in fact, the central point in the comparison of the two systems ; the note of the old covenant is promise, that of the new is fuljilmcnt.

From this most of the other differences may be derived, directly or indirectly. As in connexion with the OT, so here, it will be impossible to enter into the various critical questions raised over the Gospels and Epistles. Taking the NT as it is, we shall endeavour to indicate its uear- ing on ethical questions. (A ) The Sermon on the Mount.

— Different views have been taken as to the actual history of this sermon as it stands in the Gospels, and of its meaning in relation to the purpose of Christ. All are agreed that it stands to tlie new covenant as the promulgation of the law on Sinai stood to the old ; it contains the law of the new kinj;dom. From this point of view two questions arise in regard to it. (1) What is its relation to the old law? (2) What new features does it add of its own ?

(1) In the Sermon on the Mount the old law is revised and fulfilled ; the precepts which it con- tained are interpreted, and their application deepened. Our Lord definitely affirms that He has come, not to destroy {KaTaXOaai), but to fulfil {rXjipuxrai). Hence He touches on a series of points upon which the law had defined its position, and develops them. The law of Murder includes in its prohibition the sin of anger and the harsh un- forgiving temper.

* The law against Adultery in- cludes lustful thoughts, and condemns them. The law of Divorce and of Perjury are extended in like manner. But the law of Retaliation is reversed ; and the narrow command to love the neighbour is extended so as to cover the enemy. In all this the difference lies not so much in principle as in inter- pretation. We are still in the region of law. Com- mands are addressed to the will from without, which it has to obey.

But the significance of the law is increased tenfold by means of the application of the rules. They no longer concern outward conduct only ; thej' touch the inmost springs of con- duct in the heart. In this they are akin to the deeper aspirations of the Prophets and Psalmists ; these too, though with less profound and unflinch- ing moral insight, saw that it was in these inward rejrions that the real issue of right and wrong was to be tried.

In the same way, on the positive side, in the matter of alm.sgiving, prayer, and fasting, our Lord lays emphasis on tne spiritual side of these acts, without in any way condemning the exterior and formal aspect of them. (2) But the indications given of the character of the citizens of the new kingdom contain the most significant departures from ancient rule. These appear chiefly m the Beatitudes, and in other parts of the NT in which the character of the new kingdom is described.

The nature of the descrip- tion given in the Beatitudes is not, perhaps, eiusy to brini' into formal order ; but there is no question as to the fundamental principles of the character therein set forth. Its rules and interests are in the spiritual world, and there alone. The rewards of its virtues are spiritual.

The pure in heart see God ; those that hunger and thirst after righteous- ness gain their desire ; the merciful receive mercy ; the poor in spirit (or the poor, Lk 6') are those to whom the kingdom of heaven belongs ; the peace- makers are called the sons of God. The meek are said to inherit the earth ; hut this must not be assumed to contradict the blessing upon those whom the world persecutes. The general drift ol the piussage is to oless those who are characterized Ct. Philo, De Spec.

Legg. Tom. ii. p. SI4, ed. Mang. 784 ETHICS ETHICS by certain spiritual qualities, and to leave on one side their relation to the ordinary standards of the world. The opinion of the world is, as such, of no value ; all that matters is the spiritual condition of the citizens of the kingdom. In like manner, later on in the sermon, the motive to prayer and fa.sting is found in the same region. The critical temper is excluded from the true life (Mt 7'"°, Lk gsT-sSj .

and it is distinctly asserted that care is to be exercised in the presentation of that which is holy. The whole temper indicated is inward and spiritual, though it is affirmed that the character must be expressed in act : the tree is to be known by its fruit. (B) Similar principles appear in our Lord's Para- holic teachings. A large number of tlie parables refer to the general characteristics of the new Society, and therefore do not immediately concern us.

* But others deal directly >vith moral char- acter. Thus the Parable of the Unmerciful Servant deals with the law of forgiveness ; that of the Pharisee and the Publican condemns self-righteous- ness ; the Good Samaritan defines the duty of the love of our neighbour ; that of the Two Sons distinguishes true and false obedience. Dives and Lazarus illustrates the peril of the love of this world.

Besides these, the Prodigal Son, the Unjust Judge, and the Friend at midnight declare the relations between the true believers and God. In these, and in the generality of the teaching recorded in the synoptic Gospels, our Lord uses a quasi-proverbial method. He does not promulgate rules of conduct, but describes in indirect fashion the principles upon which true conduct is to be based. (C) In the more profound teaching recorded in St.

John's Gospel, we are taken still further into the inner secrets of the moral life. While in the Synoptists we have the life presented in the simple picture of the Two Ways, St. John represents the true and the false life as two opposed conditions of being — Life and Judgment. This, while it con- tains ultimately the same idea as the simpler lan- guage in St. Matthew, lies deeper, and contains assumptions which do not appear elsewhere.

In this type of teaching, as in the other, the essential principle is that human life is trulj seen only on its spiritual side, and that in this view of it tnere is a single issue offered for the determination of each particular man. That course which places man on the side of God is described as Life ; the other is in itself Judgment. Further, whereas in synoptic tradition we find our Lord opening His mission with the preaching of repentance, so, in the first discourse recorded Dy St.

John (ch. 3), He sets forth the necessity of regeneration for the recognition of and entry into the new kingdom. Here, again, the positions are ultimately the same, but that in St. Jonn is the deeper. The new birth spoken of is essential to the repentance. Once more, the need of faith, which is constantly em- phasized in the synoptic Gospels, is by St. John shown to involve moral issues of a serious kind.

It is the self-assertion, the self-seeking of the Jews, that prevents their understanding the claims of Christ. And, lastly, it is union with Christ, and dependence upon His life, which sustains those who are His representatives in the world. And thus, again, a moral virtue inculcated in the synoptic tradition is asserted in deeper form in St. John.

The love which the followers of Christ are to have to one another rests upon tlieir union with Christ, the indwelling of the Spirit, and has as its ideal the love of the Father and the Son. In this Gospel there is very little direct exhorta- tion, even of the proverbial kind.

The most con- * Such are ; the Leaven, the Dnw-net, the Hidden Treasure, the Seed g^rowing secretly, et^- spicuous parenetic passage is that in which otu Lord (as also in the other Gospels) lays down the absolute necessity of sacrifice for all (Jn 12^). The discourses are concerned rather with the exposition of the final conditions of moral action, and in this sense they are of vital importance for the Christian ethic.

It should be noticed that they deal with action, so it seems at first sight, very simply. Truths which are complementary are stated, sometimes in antithesis, sometimes with- out any sign in the context of the complementary truth, which may appear elsewhere also without qualification. Thus, in ch. 6, the mysterious relations of the work of the Father and the coming of men to Christ are asserted, but not connected by any theory.

Or, on the other hand, the judg- ment given is said to be the coming of the light into the world, and the consequent action of men {3'") ; whereas in w.^- *> judgment is placed in the control of the Son of Man. This is largely due to the close connexion of the discourses in this Gospel with the circumstances under which they were delivered, and to the fact that, in life, different aspects of complex unities have a tendency to emerge into exclusive prominence.

But the great importance of aU these passages for our present purpose is this : they represent the Christian development of the principles already asserted in Judaism — the connexion of the character of God with moral life, and the historic operation of God in the lives of men. Where God declares Himself as a merciful God — in answer to the request of Moses to see Him — and declares His condemnation of the guilty (Ex 34'), Christ in St.

John sets out the love of God as the rule of life for the Christian society (Jn 17^). Whereas in the OT the hand of God is seen in the guidance of man throughout his life and history, Christ in St. John affirms definitely the entry of tlie Father's will into the actual life and choice of individual man. The im- portance of this, in regard to life, can hardly be exaggerated.

U means that the apparent simplifi- cation of moral ideas attained by referring all things to a spiritual standard must not be regarded as extinguishing all moral problems. The Gospel of St. John contains no elaoorate discussion of such problems, such as we find in St. Paul's Epistles ; it only indicates, in the direct way which lies close to immediate experience, that they are present.

Thus we derive from the preaching of Christ, not only a deeper view of positive duty, but also an indication of a large held of moral thought of which comparatively little had been known before. (D) In turning to the Apostolic Epistles we find the Church engaged in the endeavour to introduce the Christian law into the world. We derive, therefore, from these writings some knowledge of the effect of Christianity upon the life of Greece and Rome.

And, further, we find in the Epistles, especially in those of St. Paul, an endeavour to connect the faith of the Church with its practice. It will be desirable to consider these points in the reverse order, as the dogmatic basis of Christian fractice in many cases largely determines its form, n the first place, let us observe that there are, in the NT writers, certain moral premises or assump- tions which are inherited from the OT, and have been accentuated by the teaching of Christ.

The end of man is union or intercourse with God, and sin impedes it. Men are in a position of enmity — sin dwells in them — the wrath of God at present abides upon them— they have not passed from death to life. And they have no power of their own to break loose from this position ; the old lamentations of the Psalmist over their moral in- capacity are taken up and confirmed by the authority of the apostolic writers.

However great and sincere man's desire may be to attain to virtue ETHICS ETHICS 785 anJ to holiness, there is an impediment. Tlie law did little to improve the position ; it killeil instead of reviving ; it displayed the real nature of sin, so far as man was capable of appreciating it, but it {rave him no power to express his knowledge in his life. The sacrilices and other ceremonies, which were part of the legal dispensation, could never take away sin.

They only symbolized a purification whicii they could never convey. In all this the apostolic writers are using partly ideas which are inlierited, partly ideas which are original in them. The sense of failure and ruin appears, as we have said, in the OT, but in the Epistles it is more precise in itself, and its causes and range are more clearly known. The dis- abilities thus described are removed by the work of Christ.

And it is in consequence of this that the dogmatic basis of the Christian practice is so firmly and carefully fixed. The views of man's condition, with which the apostles start, are such that the first thing to be done in order to attain morality is to remove the impediment which at present bars the way.

To describe the advantages or the beauties of moral life — to develop a system of new and attractive moral ideas, is secondary to this ; to have made it the first interest would have been to leave mankind in the position of the law. It was power they wanted, more even than know- ledge. Christ in His teaching had concentrated attention increasingly upon Himself ; the central feature of the discourses recorded by St.

Jolm had been the presentation of Himself as satisfying in various ways the desires and tlie needs of man. Thus the apostles had general guidance as to the way in which they were to deal with life, as well as particular instructions for certain occasions. Christ had not, so far as we can gather from His recorded teaching, entered into any detailed and precise account of the ellect of His work in the moral world. It is this that the apostolic writers undertake.

In this respect it is possible to observe develop- ment and the presence of individual tendencies of thought. At first, the sum of their preaching; seems to be contained in the phrase, Jesus is Lord. The resurrection, of whicli all are witnesses, is the proof of this ; and the elFect is that men have repentance and remission of their sins. The Holy Spirit has been poured out upon them, and they have thus gained various moral and spiritual powers.

They are not left, as before, to struggle vainly ; a new spring of new lift has entered into the world, arising from the person of the risen and ascended Lord. St. Paul develops this position with great fulness in his Epistles. ' If Christ be not nsen,' he says (1 Co 15"), 'ye are yet in your sins.' And this position is elsewhere described as the state ' under law,' the condition of inability and partial knowledge which prevailed in the earlier dispensation (tjal 4'"'-).

'There is no ques- tion that to St. Paul's mind the possibility of moral achievement dc|>ends absolutely on the person and work of the Son of (iod. And we can go further than this. The death of Christ, whicli was the means of removing the barrier of separa- tion between us and God, was of the nature of a sacrifice — a sacrifice of propitiation (IXauT-ripioi', cf. Ro .3^). Thus the ancient ellorts at reconciliation were made efi'ectual. In similar fashion St.

John represents Jesus Clirist the righteous as a pro|)itia- tion (l\ac)xit) for our sins atict for the sins of the whole world (1 Jn 2'-). The author of the Kp. to the Hebrews dwells at length upon the unique import- ance of the priesthood of Clirist, and emphasizes the effect of it upon man's relations with God. St. John, the cast of whose mind is more contempla- tive than argumentative, sets forth as the essential condition of real Oiristian life, the confession that VOL. I.

— w Jesus Christ is come in the flesh (2Jn', cf. 1 Jn5'). His characteristic interest is in the truth of the incarnation considered as a fact in liistory ; his treatment of all the other points arises out of this. The others, not less certain than St. John iis to the nature of Christ, have given more sjiace to the discussion of the redemptive acts of Christ.

But, in spite of difl'erences in the nature and order of the presentation, one salient fact appears on the very surface of the NT, namely, tliat moral life depends upon the acts and the nature of Christ , in other words, that the true basis for morality is theological. 'The controversy over the princiiilei of faith and works, which occupies so large a ]ilace in St.

Paul, has no meaning apart from this ; it arises, and is of practical importance, just because it affects the relations of God and man. In like manner, as has been already implied in oui remarks upon St. John's Gospel, the controlling will of God in history becomes an element in man's moral life ; and in this connexion we have, of course, the Pauline doctrine of predestination.

Here, again, we are dealing, not with a mere philosophical speculation, but with a series of facts which must be taken into consideration in any valid account of actual practical life. It would be beyond our purpose to dwell further on these theological points. We have said thus much about them in order to call attention to ths fact that the Christian ethic as it appears in the NT, rests upon certain convictions as to the nature and acts of Christ.

The whole bearing and range of morality depends upon these. We must now return to the other matter remain- ing for discussion, viz. the attitude of the Church in its endeavour to spread the Christian view of life through the world, and in this connexion we shall consider two points — (1) the general attitude of the Church towards practical life ; (2) the system of virtues and vices which flowed from the use of the Christian ideal.

(1) We notice, first of all, that the Church dis- plays an attitude of unflinching hostility to all that is characteristically worldly. The world, to the eyes of St. Paul, presents a spectacle of varied and widespread wickedness. The heathen have lost the light that might once have lielonged to them, and, as they have lost the knowledge of God, have fallen into idolatry, and so into gross sin.

They have concentrated their attention and in- terests upon the material side of life, and find their satisfaction in the created world (Ko 1""'). The same point appears in connexion with the moral use of^the term ' the flesh. ' St. Paul does not mean by this that the flesh, as such, is the seat of evil ; but it is the material and transient side of man's nature, which has no right to stand as the oViject of his life.

The works of the flesh (Gal 5'") are all those acts and states of whicli the real explanation lies in man's choice of the matt-rial and transient, his desire for selfish satisfaction. Though there are still higher ideas and signs of moral asjiiration amoiifj the heathen, yet the pre- dominant note of their life is degradation and sensuality.* • It l« always hard to reod St. Paul's dcHcriptlons, ewp. lo Ro t, without woruk-riiiK wht'lluT he haa exn4;i;cnit<'ti. ami. If io, to whiit exttnt.

It nitlHl, however, ho remembered tliot we derive ovir vieWH of the ancient world rather from the hi(;ne»t minds of the norticulur perio<l« we amHider, than from men on ordinary levels. It was these lower, more ordinary strata of society wit ii which St. Paul wai* chiefly wxiuainted.

And, further, there run he no quei^tion that the etitry of Christianity ha8attiTe<l the tiu-o of thiii)s'S in many more directions than wo ortlinarily think ; so that, in all prohahility, the tone of ancient •ociety is much farther from us than we are wont to supi>ose. St. ioul repre- sentj the cjiHe of a person with sentiments very like our own actinjrnnd thinking; mirier the old conditions. And. lastly, it iiiust alwoys he rememhereil that St.

I'aul's iiiethofi rif (iresenting ills ideas is to insist stronfrly on one aspect of a matter at one time, modtfyinif it or insisting oa the coiuplemeutory truth io 786 ETHICS ETHICS In liks manner, St. John speaks of the world as lying in the evil one (xeiTai iv n^ jroxijpcji, 1 Jn 5"), an<i uses the word K6<Tt>.o$ somewhat in the same way as St. Paul uses the word ffdp|, lor the material creation considered, first as apart from, and then as hostile to God.

The world is guided by prin- cii)les of self-will and self-indulgence, and is doomed lo pass away witli all the objects of its desire. As Christ had anticipated persecution and hatred for those who followed Him, so St. Paul and St. John recognize an endless hostility between the world and those bom of God — between the flesh and the Spirit. There is no compromise and no cessation in the strife.

Hence the first thing which strikes us in the general attitude of the Church towards the world IS its uncompromising hostility. But in large measure these phrases, the flesh and the world, stand for tendencies or principles rather than for individuals. These tendencies appear in indi- viduals ; but there is quite another aspect in which the indi\-iduals arrest the attention of the Church.

Tlie world from this point of view is capable of being saved ; and this fact determines trie character of the warfare. There is no limit to the sacrifices which must be expected of the Christian : he must, as Christ said, hate his father and mother if he is worthy of his calling. But he will not retire into himself, and live an isolated withdrawn life in wliich mankind in general has no part.

He will live quietly in the state in which his lot is cast, fulfilling ordinary duties of citizen- sliip (Ro 13, cf. 1 P 4''), accepting even such an institution as slavery (1 Co 7", PhUem), without strife or cry. At the same time, he will not con- ceal his way of life, nor evade inquiry into its motive ; the power of example, the mere presence of the new principles of action, will tell. The world will know by this the disciples of Christ — by the fact that they love one another.

And the love to the brethren, which is the sign that they have passed from death to life (1 Jn 3"), is extended to the neighbour, and in this is the fulfilling of the law (Ro 13'°). As God loved the world, even when men were in a state of rebellion against Him, so those who are called by the name of Christ will endeavour, so far as in them lies, to fulfil God's desire to save it.

Thus the Christian's attitude towards the world is partly hostile and partly friendly — hostile so far as the world tries to con- vert him, but friendly in so far as he endeavours to convert the world. We must now consider certain special conditions of muid which, owing to the peculiar views of life characteristic of the Church, are now brought witliin the ethical sphere.

(a) We propose to consider, first, three moral conditions which are sufficiently similar to admit of such treatment, and which all depend upon a lack of zeal or whole-heartedness. In Ja 1°'" we find a severe condemnation passed upon the Slipi'xos or double-souled man. In Rev S's-i' the severest Judgment of all those passed upon the Seven Churches is the denunciation of the lukewarm (X>^iu.poi). And, again, in Rev 21' the first of those whose portion is the second death are the cowards (5fi\oi).

These three words, especially in view of the context they are in, seem to convey more than a reproach upon vacillation of purpose. The man who is double-souled and unstable in all his ways fails to obtain his prayers ; his life loses consistency and firmness, and becomes like the sea, driven by the wind and tossed. So the lukewarm is worse than the open enemy (' I would thou wert cold or hot'), and tlie coward is coupled in his condemnation with the unfaithful «nother context.

If Ro 1 represents the darker side of his mind, Ro 2, not to mention his practical altitude towards the nentUes, reprewnts the aspect of the question neglected here. as well as those who are guilty of open and obvious sin. All three are cases of insincerity. They are attemi)ts to serve two masters, and they lack the absolute singleness of aim which Christ demands of tliose who follow Him.

The severity of the condemnation upon them is the measure of the importance of the demand made upon the believei. He is to live a spiritual life pure and simple, guided by spiritual principles and spiritual aims; cowardice or lukewarmness or double-souledness is nothing less than the surrender of all this ; in other Avords, the rejection of Christ. On the positive side, we have St.

Paul's exhortations to sincerity of work (Col 3^), to tolerance of weaker consciences in all things lawful (1 Co 8*"'', Ro 14), and these exhorta- tions are based upon the same general principle. The sole concern of men is to be their relation to God, and this will colour all that they do in the ordinary ways of life. Under the same condemnation will be placed various sensual sins. Thus St.

Paul bases his exhortation to purity on the true function of the body, and its capacity as a temple of the Holy Ghost (1 Co 6'- etc.) Covetousness, mentioned at the end of a list of sensual sins, is stigmatized as idolatry (Col 3') ; the love of money is said to have power to pervert men from the faith, and to be a root of all evil things (1 Ti 6'°) ; and again the love of pleasure is set over-against the love of God (2 Ti 3').

In all these cases the error lies in mis- direction of aim, the transient is preferred to the eternal. Thev are not merely breaches of law, or, as a Greek philosopher might have said, disturb- ances of the due balance of man's nature. In the light of the faith they are errors in principle, a choice of the wrong thing altogether. This singleness of aim takes shape in social life in various noticeable forms.

The bond which holds the Christian society together is love — love to God and love to the brethren. This, in itself, would prevent any violence of self-assertion or rivalry. But there are also positive virtues based upon the conception of the Christian society. One of the most striking of these is humility. This appears in St. Paul primarily as a social virtue. It consists in voluntarily accepting a subdued estimate of oneself.

It is distinguished from all diffidence or indisposition to accept the call of God to special work by the fact that it deals fairly and simply with reality. On the practical side it con- sists largely in doing without hesitation or discon- tent the work assigned. So St. Paul exliorts the Romans (12*) not to think more highly of them- selves than they ought; and gives as his reason their unity in the body of Christ.

Immediately afterwards he exhorts them to perform faithfully the function that has been allotted to them in the Church. So in the Epistle to the Philiiipians (2^1 the spirit of humility is opposed to the vainglorious temper, and the factious ungracious service of a hireling. So St. Peter finds in huniUity the princijile of church order (1 P 5').

Thus the normal aspect of this Wrtue in the apostolic writings is social ; it answers to the social reserve of the Greeks — the disposition to give and take without savage selfishness or personal rivalry. But it difiers widely from this, in that it is not based upon the mere fact that all men cannot have tlie same thing, and must give way to one another ; it rests upon a positive love of men, one to another, and a profouncf conviction of the unique value of spiritual thing.s.

Moreover, it goes back upon the exaiiijile and the precept of Christ Himself ; it is a conspicuous embodiment of His mind and temper. In this connexion it will be well to speak of another virtue which holds a high place in St. Paul's teaching. In the list of the fruits of the Spirit (Gal 5'-^), the virtue which appears at the ETHICS ETHICS 787 end as a kind of climax is iyKpireia, self-control.

It will not lie justilialile to press too far its position in this catalogue ; but there can be no doubt that it holds an important position in St. Paul's mind. It is one of the qualities required of the bishop (Tit 1') ; it is inculcated by the example of the zealous athlete (1 Co 9^), and it appears in 2 P 1° as a stage in the progress of men in this world.

It is in regard to this virtue, probably, that the ethical ideas of the apostolic writers differ most chiracteristically from the views of contemporary Or. writers. The Gr. view of virtue was chiefly that of a condition attained after struggle ; it did not contemplate the persistence of tempta- tion, or of any disposition to yield on the part of the virtuous man.

The material side of man was not, 80 to speak, an actual element in virtuous action ; it required suppression, not control : on the other hand, the Cnristian virtue does not pretend to introduce warfare or sef)aration into the organization of man. It recognizes the need of self-control, but the character of the man who manages his physical nature and keejis it in its projier relation to his whole life is selected for commendation. The ^yKparfia of St.

Paul is a more real thing than the auippoavfr] of a Gr. philosopher ; and it is not, morally speaking, a lower conception of virtuous life. (i) We now come to consider three states or con- ditions or virtues which are most of all identified with the Christian point of view. These are the well-known triad, Faitli, Hope, and Love. They are for the most part identified with St. Paul, and found especially in 1 Co 13. But it is not true to suppose that they are limited to that passage.

They occur in close connexion, both in St. Peter (l'-2'«), and in the Ep. to the Hebrews (lO, ), and in other pa.ssages of St. Paul (1 Th 1-'-' 5", Col 1'°). Indeed their connexion is so remarkable that it has been recently argued that it must have been based on the teaching of Christ Himself.* Without committing ourselves on this point, it is at least worth noticing that the connexion is frequent, and it is natural to infer that it had some delinitely ethical significance.

The question then arises. What is implied by the combination of these three virtues? There is practically no doubt as to the meaning of Airij and a.ia.Tn). It is true that Airfs means sometimes a particular state of mind, sometimes the object on which it rests, but there is no serious ambiguity. liut with the third irlffTij this is not the case, ft is ambiguous ( 1 ) becau.

se it stands liolh for the temper of the faith- ful person and for the object of his faith ; but (2) more seriously, because the character of the moral temper is not clear. The word means not only trustfulness, but also trustworthiness. And even in those pa-ssages where the context excludes the passive sense, there are further differences in the associations given by various writers to the words. St.

James (2'") seems to mean by it little more than an intellectual assent to a [uoposition ; it is a state of mind in which the devils can be said to be. The word in St. Paul has a moral rather than a purely intellectual meaning. It describes the temper of one who, in full view of all that makes the other way, trusts in the character and power of Cod (cf. Ito 4'» UV). And so St. Paul speaks naturally of faith being made active by love (ivtpriov)Uvi\ iC dYdTTTjt, Gal 5').

It is inspired by the love of the person on whom it rests, and therefore does not fail. In the Kp. to the Hebrews we again notice a slight variation in use. The author describes faith in somewhat [irccise fashion as ' the substance of things hoped for, the evidence • Resell, Airrapha, p. 181 ; ct. Ho\Klt, Die Spriiche Jtmi, n, 24. Both these wurka are in llamock's series of TcxU und Viittr' mchur^jen, ikl. v. i and lid. xiv. 2. of things not seen' (11').

By this he seems to mean a certainty in the mind of the faithful person that the hopes he has will be realized. The con- fidence is so great that he seems almost to have in his possession the things which are not yet in being. Such a man, like Moses, 'endures as seeing the invisible.' It is somewhat difFicult to describe succinctly the character in which these three \'irtue3 converge.

It must be remembered that, for the apostles, Uie death and resurrection of Christ were the primary and salient facts with which all life had to deal. Hence these determine the primary reference of the faith, hope, and love of the believer. His faith rests upon Christ as risen and ascended ; his hope is in the consummation of God's purpose in the world ; his love is directed to the Father who guided, and the Son who effected, his redemption.

The whole atmosphere of the Epistles is full of these facts, and all practical results which flow out from the presence of these virtues are dependent on the truth of these facts. Thus, because the believer holds to the truth of the death and resurrection of Christ, he has certainty, where others doubt, in his view of the history of the world and of himself. His faith is not a blind acceptance of anything that happens.

He knows as well as any one the difficulties in life, and the darkness which hangs over human things. He sees things occur which he did not foresee and cannot explain. But he is not in presence of a mere chaos of irrational forces, with a blind belief in the existence of a purpose behind them ; he has a sure confidence in tlie death and resurrection of Christ; that is, he is able to take them as a type of the action of God, and to find in them a ground of anticipation for the future.

Because Christ has risen from the dead, instead of being of all men the most miserable he is the person of all others who has a sure hold ujion life. See Faith. In like manner, the natural object of the virtue of hope is the second coming of our Lord, and the consummation of all things which that event will bring. It is this hope that enables men to endure the sorrows and pain of the world ; it is hidden in some sort in the groaning and travailing of creation (Ro S'"'^).

It results from the steady endurance of persecution (Ko 5°), and it does not make ashamed. It is not ditiicult to see how this con- fidence in the future will affect life on its practical side. It involves no unreality, and no o|itimistic veiling of the real evil in tilings. With a full sense of the presence of pain and other troubles in the world, it looks upon the course of history with certainly and fearlessness.

There is no haunting dread lest the world may be, after all, a chaos ol irrational forces without purpose or true guidance ; because the events of Christ's life, the truth of His person, and the certaintj' of His promises, prevent all sucli hazy and depressing conditions of mind. The virtue of hope is closely allied with the virtue of faith. They both rest upon the character and self-manifestation of God ; they both affect life by bringing within its sphere the realities of the spiritual order.

And, lastly, the virtue of love depends upon the cessation of the feeling of hostility and cstran"e- nient which had so long been abroad in the wond. The eflorts of God for the salvation of man, His care for the souls of individual men — that is, the prominent events in the incarnate life of His Son — coimiicnd the love of God to us. From of old, men had sought by various means for intercourse with God, and yet had fallen short.

The life of Christ opened the way to a fuller communion than they had ventured to anticipate. Tlie law of God, seen in the light of the dcatii and resurrection of Christ, could be a regular principle of action ; not imposed 788 ETHICS ETHICS arbitrarily from witliout, but accepted and under- stood as the true form of intercourse with God in life.

Again, in regard to men, the old barriers which separated them would tend to be broken do^vn, because all alike came under the con- demnation of sin and within the range of salvation. The brotlierhood of men amongst themselves is the expression of the knowledge of the love of God towards all. To profess love to God and to fail in love to man is, morally speaking, a contra- diction. The one, by the logic of moral life, involves the other.

We have now concluded what it seems necessary to say as to the ethics of the Bible. It would be possible to develop the similarities and the con- trasts between the ethics of tlie Greeks or of modem philosophy and the moral doctrines of Christianity. Or we might endeavour to trace the effect of the principles here indicated in the history of the Christian Church. Both of these topics would be necessary to a complete discussion of Christian ethics.

Being restricted here to the ethics of the Bible, we must leave tliem aside as irrelevant. It remains, therefore, merely to emphasize the general principles which follow from our consideration of the subject. It seems to emerge clearly as a result of the whole, that the ethics of the Bible from one end of it to the other are religious. In the early days an ethical mean- ing was given to religious ceremonies whicli dis- tinguished them sharply from the generality of such rites.

In the hands of the propliets the ethical principles of life were asserted with ex- ceptional vigour and clearness ; but always, with however severe a side-glance at ceremonial, as an essential element in the worship of J". In tlie Psalmists tlie various shades of moral feeling are described with inhnite knowledge and fulness, but the further reference is always to tlie desire for intercourse with God.

Even in the Sapiential Books, where the tone is least lofty and spiritual, the msdom of man is found in the fear of the Lord and in obedience to His law. The change which results from Christianity is partly due to the deeper insight and more alluiing attractiveness of the example and preacli- ing of Clirist ; but it owes more still to the vast increase in knowledge of actual spiritual truth which Christ brought to man, and the infinite significance of the acts of Christ upon the life of men.

The truth is summed up, finally, in the words of St. John, ' The law was given by Moses, grace and truth came by Jesus Christ' (1'").

It was not merely that He charmed the world with tlie example of a sinless Man suffering because other men were sinful ; nor, again, does the effect of His life rest merely upon the graciousness or the austerity of His words ; but it flows from the fact that He brought truth as well as grace ; power to achieve what the world had so long failed to attain ; and knowledge of the spiritual order when all had been guesswork and hazardous conjecture before. Many things follow from this.

The various ethical doctrines which are from time to time represented as the only contribution of Cliristianity to the world's history are really corollaries of the facts upon which Christianity rests. The infinite value of each human soul, with all that has come of it in the changed position of individuals, jire- Bupposes, speaking historically, the belief in the scheme of salvation.

The idea of universal love is not the result of a change of sentiment in the world, so much as the practical exposition (as we have indicated above) of the true relation of God to man. And, again, the principle of self-.sacrifice is not an arbitrary law imposed on men, challenging an explanation which it never receives, but is the practical expression o'' the law of love, together with the paramount importance of the spiritual world.

We are well aware of the importance and the difficulty of many of the critical questions which surround the books of the Bible. In the present article, as has been already observed, they have been deliberately left aside. It would have been impossible, iu the first place, to treat them adequately in passing, and inadequate discussion is useless. But there is a further reason, which, now that the exposition of the ethics is completed, it seems well to mention again and emphasize.

These critical questions are not only irrelevant to the present discussion, they are largelj- irrelevant to any discussion. Speaking generally, we may say that the Bible has had its effect very largely as it stands. It comes before us a whole, and, though criticism may display for us the process by whicli some of the OT books have come into existence, it will not seriously alter this fact.

And in the case of the NT the date of the for- mation of the Canon and the publication of the various books is now put back so far that there is not room for a complicated evolution of ideas of which the traces are largely lost. Those who are concerned to trace the formative ideas in the Bible must take it as a whole.

For it is in view of the unity of thought which runs through it that the separate books have been gathered into one ; this was the chief guiding principle in the formation of the Canon. LiTERATURs [odded by the Editor ; the more useful nomefl are in small capitals).—^. THE OLD TESTAMENT: Dillmask, Ueber den Crsprum der Atttest. Religion^ 1865; Baupissin, Studien zur semit. Relujiowirjesch. (1878), u. 1-142 ; Bestmaao, Gmch. der chrut. SiUe (1880), i.; Kti.vio (Ed.), Uauplprableme der altigr.

Religiomijesch. 1884; Delitzsch in fUE^ v. 178, Riehm, HWB u. 1274 ; Kuenen, Relvjion qf Israel, i. 395-397 (Eng. tr. 1874) ; Modev, Ruling Ideat in Early Ages, 1877 ; Luthardt, Hist, of Christian Ethics (Eng. tr. 1889), 33-66: Ebrard, Apologetics (Eng. tr. 1880), i. 238-238 ; Hessey, Moral Difiadtiet in the Bible, 3 vols. 1872, 1873 ; .Moore in Luz Mundi'i, 1891, 52-65 ; Ladd, Doctrine of Sacred Scripture (1883), i.

464- 4S9, 738-742 ; Robertson, Early Religion of Israel (Baird Lecture, 1889), 296-326 ; CaiUard, Progressive Revelation (1896), 20-37 ; SCULLTZ, OT Theol. (Eng. tr. 1892), i. 147ff., 213II., ii. 62ff.; Bruce, Ethics of the Old Test. 1895 ; Smyth, Christian Ethia (1892), 88 93, 483-486; SUnton in Camb. Comp. (1893), 314-319; Stro.vo, Christian Ethics (BL, 1896), 12-20, 3.V-16. B. THE APOCRYPHA : Keerl, Apokriiphen de» AT, 1862, Das Wort Gottes «. die Apokr. lS.

i3, Die Apokryphen/rage, 1S55 ; Luthardt, Hist, of Chr. Ethics (Eng. tr. 1889), 67-74 ; Schiirer, HJP li. U. 90 ff.; Moktepiorb, Origin and (Jrowth of Religion (llib. Lect. 1892), 484-496. C. THE NEW TESTA.\IE.\T AND CHRISTIANITY: Bohmer, System des chr. Lebens, 1863 ; Wendt, Einleitung in di» Ethik, 1864; Schmid, Christ. Sittenlehre, ed. Heller. 1887; Maurice, Epistles of St. John, Christian Ethics, 1867 ; Light- foot, 'St. Paul and Seneca,' in Com. on Philipp.

(1868), 270-333, also in Dissertations, 247-322; Harless, Snslem of Chr. Ethic* (Eng. tr.), 1868; Weizs.'ickcr, ' Anfange cliristlicher Sitte,' in JDTh, 1S76, 1-36; Thoma, Gesch. der christ. Sittenlehre in der Zeit des NT, 1879 ; Wultke, Handb. der chr. Sittenlehre (1873), 17-242 (Eng. tr. Christiiin Ethics, 1873), new ed. by Schulze, 1895; Culmann, Chr. Elhik, 1874; Wace, Christianity and Mnralilv, 1878 ; Smith (L O.) Characteristics of Chr.

Morality (BL, 1876); von Ilofmann, Theologische Ethik, 1878; Lanjce, Grand, der Christ. Ethik, 1878; Jlartensen, Christian Ethics, Eng. tr.,3voK 1878-1882; Bestmass, Gesch. der Christ. SitH, vol. 1. 1880 (ii. 1885) ; Ersesti, Ethik des Apastels PaxUxu, 1880 ; Pfleiderer, Grumi. der Glaubens- und Sittenlehre, 1880; Lecky, Hist, of Enrojiean Morals, 1S82 ; Frank, System der Christ. Sittlichkeit, 1884-1887 ; Martineau.T^ipi-so/i.'WiVa; Theory, 1885 ; DoRNER, Christ. Sittetvlehre, 18S5 (Eng. tr.

1887); Chcrcb, Discipline of the Chr. Character, 1888 ; Goss, Gesch. der christ Ethik, 1881-1888; SlDOWlcK, Outlines of Hist, of Ethics, 1886; Ziegler, Gesch. der christ. Elhik, 1386 ; Wcstcott, Social A spectt of Christianity, 1887 ; Flugel, Die Sittenlehre Jem, 1888 ; Hatch, Greek Ideas and the Chr. Church (llib. Led. 1883), 158-170; Matbeson, Larulmarkt of NT MoralUy, 1888 ; Luthardt, Hitt. of Chr. Ethics (Eng. tr. 1889), 77-104 ; Stanton, Province of Chr.

Ethics, 1890; Ottlbt, 'Christian Ethics," in Lux Mundt (12th ed. 1891), 340-395; Scharling, Christ. Sittenlehre, 1392; Bright, Morality in Doctrine, 18'J2 ; Smttii, Christian Ethics, 1392 ; Uaird, Evolution of Religion (OiBoni Lect. 1893), i. 339 fl., ii 92 ff 127 ff. ; KsioilT, The Christian Ethic. 1893 ; DRrMMOND, yia Veritas Vila (llib. I-ect. 1894), 209-280 ; Findlay, Christian Doctrine and Morals (Fcmley Lect.), 1894 ; Stroso, Christian Ethics {BL, 1805), esp.

20-22, 47-73, and sects, iii iv. ; Harless, OArt»(. Ethik, 8th ed. 1895; Kidd, Moralilii and Religion (Kerr Lect. 1896), 383-401; Kuebel, Christ. Ethik, 1800; Lulhirdt, ETHIOPIA ETHIOPIA 789 Kcnpml. drr Ihrol. Bthik, 1806 ; T\-nim9 In Th' Aneifnl Faith in MmI. Lioht (1S97). 49-'S ; Harris, <J'Mi the Creator (18117), ii. 17t-iy2; B'^rtos, 'The Kthical Teuchinra of Jesus in Relation to the Ethics of the I'hariuces and OT,' in Biblical Ifortd (lsa7X X.

198-208 ; Bovos, ilorale Chritienne, 1887-1808. T. B. Stkono. ETHIOPIA {AWiovla), the name whereby the LXX tranpliitors rendered the Heb. b^3 passim, and in Ps 72» and 74" the Heb. or. 1. DERlVATl0>f, etc. — The word occurs in the earliest tir. literature a.s the name of a race to be found in the e.xtreme E. and the extreme W. ; in later writers the nation is more definitely localized as dwelling S. of Egypt. The name would seem to be Greek, and to signify 'Rwl-faces' (cf.

the similar word alSo\f/ applied by Homer to wine), a designation derived from the colour of the people, just as many names given by the Gr. geographers to African tribes are derived from their charac- teristics, habits, or mode of life ; and indeed the present inhabitants of Abyssinia are said to call themselves Kny ('red' in Amharie), as opposed to the Nubians, wliom they term black [tckuur in Ajiiharic, snlim in Ethiopic ; Lejean, Vuyitcie en Ahyssinie, 1S72, p. 77).

As, however, the colour that is a-ssociated with the 'Ethiopians' is not red, but black (Juv. Sat. ii. 23), it has been sug- gested that the Gr. name represents the Grecized form of some foreign appellation, such as Atijab, plural of the Arab. (Ih, 'scents,' used to designate the inhabitants of the country whence the incen.se came (Glaser, Die Abyssinier in Arabien, p. 10).

The word is a loan-word in the language called Ethiopic, imported from the Greek, and only em- Sloyed by the Abyssinians in Christian times to enote themselves. In the inscription of Adulis, the Abyssinian king claims to have defeated the Ethiopians among other foreign races ; meaning by this name, according to Lejean's suggestion, the Shan^allas, a tribe placed in the ma]is of Harris and Left'vre to the W. of the Abjssinian province Shire, between the rivers Mareb and Taccaze.

The name Ifabnsh, whereby the Abys- sinian country and people are designated in Arabic (whence the European Abyssinia), would appear to represent an ancient Egyp. name for some African race (Glaser, I.e., after W. Max Miiller) ; the native name is Geez. 2. Gkograpiiy.— Although the Gr. ^'eographers after the time of the Ptolemies distinguish the kingdom of Meroe from the neighbouring tribes, they make the term Ethiopia include both.

The extent of territory covered by this name is there- fore very great : to the ancients it represented all the land bounded by the Upper Nile on the W., and the Ked Sea and Arabian (Julf on the E. ; the southern extremity they did not profess to be able to fix. Only modem — the most modem — re- searches have been able to map out accurately the land known to the old geographers by vague reporU).

The land whence the Nile derives itfl waters Is described by Lucan as pxttres arena", but this doscrinlion is not true of the whole of Kthio]>ia. While the political (liviMions have constantly been, and are still, fluctuating, the natural divisions are three. The hi^'hlands of Abyssinia separate the Sudan (usually spelt Boudari), or 'black country,' on the N. anrl W. from the Dana- kil country, which lies between the Ethiopian range and the ■ea.

(o) The Soudan, having been mrcly traversed by Europeans before Sir .Samuel Uakvr (yile Trifnitariet of Abyn»iiiia, 1807), has, since the enterprise of Mohammed Ahmad, been fretiuently the centre of European interest, and the campai^'ns that have been fought there nave led to the elucitlation of its geography ; and the works of Wingat* (Mahdiittm in the Eijyptian Sottdan, 1891), Slatin Pasha (/■'ir^ and .S'tcord in the .

S'oKrfan, 1890), and others, give accurate details both of the nature of the country (2,u<io,U4H) sq. miles in ext^-'nt) and of the tribes that inhabit it. Houth of the thirteenth parallel of latitude is fertile country Btill the confusion of Ethiopia with Indis continues long Into the Christian era (Letronne, Mat^riaux pour Chittoire du Chrittulnigme, p. S2). with a six months' rainfall ; X. of it are vast steppes with frequent thorns and thinly-scattered wells fWingat, p. 8).

A narrow strip of rich vegetation is to be found on either wide ol the Nile, which Hows throu;^h it, making a gigantic curve be- tween the third and fifth cataracts, and receivuig at Al-l)amer (aliout 'iX 45' E. long., 17' 31)' N. lat.) the Atbara, laden in the rainy season with tiie waters of Abyssinia, but in the dry season a bed of white sand ; and some two degrees farther S. splitting at the modern town of Khartoum into the Blue and White Nile.

The scenery is diversified by mountain ranges of no great height. (6) Very different from this flat rolling plain is the Switzerland of Afrityi, Abyssinia, aplateau with a mean elevation of WXK) ft., extending from 9' to 15 20' N. lat., and at its greatest width from 37 to 40* E. long. Never completely severed from com- munication with Europe, this country was lii-st accuratel.

v described in the Ilinlona J-^thiopitB of the Etliiopic scholar Job Ludolf(lG81), while the scientific observations and measure- ments of the explorers Riippell (Reise in Al'esxinitm, 1838), Lef6vre (Voi/age en Abijsnnie, 1839-1843), and Ferret and Galinier (contemporary with the last), have in recent times vastly increased our knowledge of it, which has been supplemented yet more recently b^' the researches of M™* d'Abbadie (G'r'o- graphie de t'Ethiopie, ISOO) and others {e.g.

Theodore Bent, rhf. Sacred City uf the Ethiopians, 1893; Schoeller, ilittheitun- gen iil/er jneine lieiie in der Cotonia Eritrea, etc.) Separated on the E. from the Red Sea by the Ethiopian ranj^c (as it was first named by M. Theoph. Lef6vre), bounded on tlie S. Ijy the rivers Hawash and Abay (afterwards the Blue Nile), on the N. by the rivers Aiisaba, Barka, and Gaj^h, and on tiie W. by the Atbara, the Abyssinian plateau inclines towards the N.W., but reaches its greatest elevation in the mts.

of Samen or Semyen, of which the loftiest, Ras Dedjen, is 14,200 ft. high.

The four rivers Taccaze (the Nile of Ethiopia), Mareb, Abay, and Hawash, with their numerous tributaries, divide the country into a great number of natural provinces ; and as these rivers flow in deep ravines, intercommunication during the rainy season is fre- quently suspended ; while the Mareb and the Hawash lose themselves in the sand after dividing into many channels, the Taccaze (called during part of its course the Settite) flows into the Atbara at Tomat (in the province of K.

atarif), while the Abay (which near its rise curves through Lake Tsana, the greatest of the Abyssitiian lakes) later on in its course is called the Blue Nile. The jtulitical and linguistic division of the country into Tigre, Amhara, Shoa, and Galla districts is recent ; a more natural division is that according to which the native geographers divide their land into zanfS — the Kola or lowlands (Ijelow 6500 ft.), the Woin.a-Deja (6500-7600 ft.), and the Deja (over 7500 ft.)

, distinguished by their flora and fauna. (See on these esp. J. Dove, Lrgitmungttheft 37 to Petennann's Mitthev. iungen 'die Kulturzonen Nord-Abessiniens,' and for another division A. Raffray, Bulletin de la socit^tr* de G^ographie, 1882.) (c) Thirdly, on the E. side of the Ethiopian range, and ex- tending to the Red Sea and the Gulf of .\den, is a vast tract inhabited now by three Hamitic races called Oromo or Gallas, Afar or Danakils, and Somalis, not yet thoroughl.

v explore'I, ainong the descriptions of which may be mentioned Horelli'a J'Jthwpie 3f**n'(/j«/m^r (Paris, 18f!0), and Paulitsche's Klhmdogie Ont-Afrika's (Wieti, 1803), 'The geology, botany, and zoology of 'Ethiopia' are elattorately treated in Decken's Reisen in Ost- A/rika (1879), ap. iii. 3. 3. Sketch of History.

— Portions of this vast region were under some sort of government during the existence of the ancient kingdom of Napata, the earlier history of which has been sketched in tlie article CusH. In the time of Ptolemy I'hila- delphus wo find an Amonian king Ergamenes reigning at Meroe (Diod. iii.

G), whose name (Erlvamon, 'oath of Amon') was found in cartouches on Nubian monuments shortly after the commence- ment of hieroglyphic studies (see Champollion, Vnynge en Nuhie, 119; Rosellini, Monuinenti Storichi, ii. 321). To the .time of the same Ptolemy, Hrugsch (Zschr. f. Aqypt. Sprnrhe, etc. 1890, p.

29) assigns the reign of a king Horsiatef or Arsiotes (whose stele with a lengthy inscription is reproduced by Mariette, Monuments iHrcrs, plate 11); and two kings of the same family aa Ergamenes, Onclimachis and Honuachis, after the death of Ptolemy Philopator seized the Tliebaid, where they reigned twenty years (ISrugsch, I.e.; K6villout, Eev. &gyptol. v. 39)r. ). As Euergetesl. is said to have sent an expedition into Lower Nubia (Mon. Adttl.), the two powers must have been long at variance.

The invaders of the The- baid wore ejected by Ptolemy Epipliane.s — if the combinations of IWvillout V)c correct— by the aid of the Hlemmyans, an Ethiopian tribe, whose princes henceforth become supreme at Meroe, though acknowledging the suzerainty of the Egyptians and their heirs the Romans, whence it comes that 790 ETHIOPIA ETHIOPIAX WOMAN inscriptions in lionour of Tiberius and Nero have been found at Dakke (the ancient Pselcis).

An att«ropt was made during the reign of Augustus by a queen named Candace to drive the Romans out of the Thebaid, resulting in the taking of Napala and Meroe by C. Petronius in B.C. 24 ; but as peace was m.ade with the Ethiopian queen by Augustus at Samos in B.C. 21, the defeat of the former may not have been so complete as Strabo represents it (Book xvii. ; Ittivillout, i.e.) The same queen has been identified with a Kvpi» paW^jfl-ff-ot, who is mentioned in an inscription of the year B.C.

13 as sending an embas.<!y into Rom. territory (Wilcken in Hermes for 1893. p. 145 on Clii iii. 5080) ; and this name Kandake (in Kg^-p. RfiMki-i with family name Ainn-arit ; Lepaius, Denk- jmi/er, v. 47 a and b ; ap. Bruj^ch, Enlziff. der Meroit. Deilkin. p. 7) is said to have been the official name of the queen of Ethiopia (Bion of Soli, Frag. Hut. Greece, Iv. 351, 6).

Beyond a solitary allusion to the queen of Meroe in Ac 8^7 the history of this state is blank till a much later period, when the Blemmyans came into collision with the Roman empire (R6viliout, iUm. sur leu Ulcitimyens in * if^m. pr«^s. par divers savants ^ rAcad^mie,' \\n. 2. 371) ; and Pliny asserts that a tribune with some praatorians sent to reconnoitre by Nero, who was con- templating an Ethiopian war, reported that the regions about MeroS were deserted (A'af. Hist. \i. 35).

It has been con- iectured by Dillmann (* Uber die Anfange des Aksumitischen teiches' in Abhandll. der Akad. zu Berlin, 1S78, p. 204) that the downfall of Meroe was the result of the campaijcn of Petronius. Though this ma.v seem doubtful, he is probably right in connecting with the fall of MeroS the rise of another state in Abyssinia ; for whereas the classical geographers prior to A.D. 50 (Agatharchides of Cnidus, of the 2nd cent. B.C.

, excerpted in Photii Bibliotheca ; Artemidorus of Ephesus, of the Ist cent. B.C.; Diodorus Siculus, who relies in his elaborate account of Ethiopia, Bk. iii. 10-37, chiefly on Agatharchides, but partly on information which he had himself collected m Egypt ; Strabo, and Pliny) know of no other state but that of Meroe, the author of the Periplus Maris Erythrcei (of the second half of the 1st cent. A.n.) knows of a metropolis of the AuxoraitiB (A!

^|»/^Taj) situated at a distance of eight days from Adulis, ' whither all the ivory from beyond the Nile is brought through Cyenium to Adulis' for exportation.

It was governed by a king named Zoskales ; and in one of the inscriptions of Adul recorded by Cosmas Indicopleustes, the king, inferred from the phrases he employs to have been king of Axum, a worshipper of the Greek gods Ares, Zeus, and Poseidon, enumer- ates conquests extending over a great portion of modern Abyssinia, and into neighbouring tribes and countries, in a Ust wherein many extant names figure for the first time.

Since this king claims to have been the first of his line to conquer tribes which, in the time of the Periplus, were subject to Zoskales, Dillmann (I.e. 200) argues plausibly that the monu- ment of Adulis is earher than the Periplus ; whence it would appear that the empire of Axum came into being somewhere in the middle of the 1st cent. A.D.

The date cannot be much earlier, since othenvise its existence could not have escaped the Greeks, who had many factories on the Red Sea coast, dating from the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus, who is said to have organized elephant-hunting expeditions. Although there follows a gap of some centuries in the history of Axum, it is clear that the great antiquity claimed for their empire by the native Abyssinian chroniclers is fabulous (see Dillmann, ZDMO vii.) as well as its supposed Jewish basis.

Besides Meroe and Axum, the classical writers know only of tribes existing in Ethiopia in various stages of savagery, some of whose characteristics may well be preserved in extant races, while some may be relegated to tbe region of fable. (See further CusB.) 4. Language, etc. — The chief monuments of Nubian monarchs are in the Egyp. character and language ; although, in the opinion of experts, niany of them display a very imperfect acquaintance with both. Ergamenes, however, in the 3rd cent. B.

C., after overthrowing the power of the priests (it is thought), introduced the native language of Nubia into the monuments, using for it modifica- tions of the hieroglyphic and demotic writin", in wliich the phonetic value of the Egyp. symbols seems to have been shifted. In his Nubian grammar (1880) Lepsius speaks of these inscrip- tions as a still unsolved mj-stery ; and the import- ant study of them by Brugsch (Entziff. dtr Meroit. Den/cm.

, Leipzig, 1887) is not regarded as having finally solvetl it, although the discovery by Schiifer (Zschr.fiir A'jijptologie, 1896) of elements of modern Nubian in the Nubian words recorded by classical writers makes in favour of Brugsch's system.

While the basis of the language is, according to these authorities, to be aou<jht, not in the Beja dialect (as Lepsius had imagined), but in modern Nubian, Brugsch has made it probable that the language of the inscriptions was largely intermixed with Egyp. words, and indeed he fancies that many such are to be detected in the existing lan- guage. While tbe Ethiopian Pantheon was largely peopled with Egyp.

gods, a few native names are recorded by the ancients, as may be made out from the inscriptions ; and likewise Ethiopian civilization, though largely borrowed from Egypt, retained not a few native peculiarities. D. S. Margououth.