1. In the first place then, the author is annoyed that I spoke disparagingly of his scholarship [128:3]; and in reply he says that the criticism in which I have indulged 'scarcely rises above the correction of an exercise or the conjugation of a verb.' [128:4] I cannot help thinking this language unfortunate from his own point of view; but let that pass. If the reader will have the goodness to refer back to my article, he will find that, so far from occupying the main part of it on points of scholarship which have no bearing on the questions under discussion, as the author seems to hint, I have taken up about two-thirds of a page only [128:5] with such matters. In the other instances which I have selected, his errors directly affect the argument for the time being at some vital point. It would have been possible to multiply examples, if examples had been needed. I might have quoted, for instance, such renderings as [Greek: katabas peripateitô] 'come down let him walk about [129:1];' or [Greek: Iousta tis en hêmin esti Surophoinikissa, to genos Chananitis, hês to Thugatrion k.t.l.] 'Justa, who is amongst us, a Syrophoenician, a Canaanite by race, whose daughter' etc. [129:2] Both these renderings survive to the fourth edition.
I must not however pass over the line of defence which our author takes, though only a few words will be necessary. I do not see that he has gained anything by sheltering himself behind others, when he is obviously in the wrong. Not a legion of Tischendorfs, for instance, can make [Greek: epangellomenon] signify 'has promised,' [129:3] though it is due to Tischendorf to add that notwithstanding his loose translation he has seen through the meaning of Origen's words, and has not fastened an error upon himself by a false interpretation, as our author has done. And in other cases, where our author takes upon himself the responsibility of his renderings, his explanations are more significant than the renderings themselves. Scholars will judge whether a scholar, having translated quem caederet [129:4], 'whom he mutilates,' could have brought himself to defend it as a 'paraphrase' [129:5]. I am not at all afraid that dispassionate judges hereafter will charge me with having unduly depreciated his scholarship.
But our author evidently thinks that the point was not worth establishing at all. I cannot agree with him. I feel sure that, if he had been dealing with some indifferent matter, as for instance some question of classical literature, he would not have received any more lenient treatment from independent reviewers; and I do not see why the greater importance of the subject should be pleaded as a claim for immunity from critical examination. It does not seem to me to be a light matter that an author assuming, as the author of Supernatural Religion does, a tone of lofty superiority over those whom he criticizes, should betray an ignorance of the very grammar of criticism. But in the present case there was an additional reason why attention should be called to these defects. It was necessary to correct a wholly false estimate of the author's scholarship with which reviewers had familiarized the public, and to divest the work of a prestige to which it was not entitled.
2. In the next place I ventured to dispute the attribute of impartiality with which the work entitled Supernatural Religion had been credited. And here I would say that my quarrel was much more with the author's reviewers than with the author himself. I can understand how he should omit to entertain the other side of the question with perfect sincerity. It appeared from the book itself, and it has become still more plain from the author's Reply, that he regards 'apologists' as persons from whom he has nothing to learn, and with whose arguments therefore he need not for the most part concern himself. But the fact remains that the reader has had an ex parte statement presented to him, while he has been assured that the whole case is laid before him.
Of this one-sided representation I adduced several instances. To these our author demurs in his reply. As regards Polycarp, I believe that the present article has entirely justified my allegation. Of Papias, Hegesippus, and Justin, I shall have occasion to speak in subsequent articles. At present it will be sufficient to challenge attention to what Dr Westcott has written on the last-mentioned writer, and ask readers to judge for themselves whether our author has laid the case impartially before them.
Several of my examples had reference to the Gospel of St. John. Of these our author has taken exception more especially to three.
As regards the first, I have no complaint to make, because he has quoted my own words, and I am well content that they should tell their own tale. If our author considers the argument 'unsound in itself, and irrelevant to the direct purpose of the work,' [131:1] I venture to think that discerning readers will take a different view. I had directed attention [131:2] to certain passages in the Synoptic Gospels (Matt. xxiii. 37; Luke xiii. 34) as implying other visits to Jerusalem which these Gospels do not themselves record, and therefore as refuting the hypothesis that our Lord's ministry was only of a single year's duration, and was exercised wholly in Galilee and the neighbourhood until the closing visit to Jerusalem—a hypothesis which rests solely on the arbitrary assumption that the record in the Synoptists is complete and continuous. Thus the supposed difficulty in St John's narrative on this fundamental point of history disappears. In fact the Synoptists give no continuous chronology in the history of our Lord's ministry between the baptism and the passion; the incidents were selected in the first instance (we may suppose) for purposes of catechetical instruction, and are massed together sometimes by connection of subject, sometimes (though incidentally) by sequence of time. In St. John, on the other hand, the successive festivals at Jerusalem are the vertebræ of the chronological backbone, which is altogether wanting to the account of Christ's ministry in the Synoptists. We cannot indeed be sure even here that the vertebræ are absolutely continuous; many festivals may have been omitted; the ministry of Christ may have extended over a much longer period, as indeed Irenæus asserts that it did [131:3]; but the three passovers bear testimony to a duration of between two and three years at the least.
The second point has reference to the diction of the fourth Gospel, as compared with the Apocalypse [131:4]. Here I am glad to find that there is less difference of opinion between us than I had imagined. If our author does not greatly differ from Luthardt's estimate of the language, neither do I [132:1]. On the other hand, I did not deny, and (so far as I am aware) nobody has denied, that there is a marked difference between the Apocalypse and the Gospel, in respect of diction; only it is contended that two very potent influences must be taken into account which will explain this difference. In the first place, the subjects of the two books stand widely apart. The apocalyptic purport of the one book necessarily tinges its diction and imagery with a very strong Hebraic colouring, which we should not expect to find in a historical narrative. Secondly, a wide interval of time separates the two works. The Apocalypse was written, according to the view which our author represents 'as universally accepted by all competent critics,' about A.D. 68, 69 [132:2]. It marks the close of what we may call the Hebraic period of St John's life—i.e., the period which (so far as we can gather alike from the notices and from the silence of history) he had spent chiefly in the East and among Aramaic-speaking peoples. The Gospel on the other hand, according to all tradition, dates from the last years of the Apostle's life, or, in other words, it was written (or more probably dictated) at the end of the Hellenic period, after an interval of twenty or thirty years, during which St John had lived at Ephesus, a great centre of Greek civilization. Our author appears to be astonished that Luthardt should describe the 'errors' in the Apocalypse as not arising out of ignorance, but as 'intentional emancipations from the rules of grammar.' Yet it stands to reason, I think, that this must be so with some of the most glaring examples at all events. A moment's reflection will show that one who could write [Greek: apo ho ôn, k.t.l.], 'from He that is,' etc. (Rev. i. 4), in sheer ignorance that [Greek: apo] does not take a nominative case, would be incapable of writing any two or three consecutive verses of the Apocalypse. The book, after all allowance made for solecisms, shows a very considerable command of the Greek vocabulary, and (what is more important) a familiarity with the intricacies of the very intricate syntax of this language.
On the third point, to which our author devotes between three and four pages, more explanation is required. I had remarked [133:1] on the manner in which our author deals with the name 'Sychar' in the fourth Gospel, and had complained that he only discusses the theory of its identification with Shechem, omitting to mention more probable solutions. To this remark I had appended the following note:
Travellers and 'apologists' alike now more commonly identify Sychar with the village bearing the Arabic name Askar. This fact is not mentioned by our author. He says moreover, 'It is admitted that there was no such place [as Sychar [Greek: Suchar], and apologetic ingenuity is severely taxed to explain the difficulty.' This is altogether untrue. Others besides 'apologists' point to passages in the Talmud which speak of 'the well of Suchar (or Sochar, or Sichar);' see Neubauer, 'La Géographie du Talmud,' p. 169 sq. Our author refers in his note to an article by Delitzsch ('Zeitschr. f. Luth. Theol.' 1856, p. 240 sq). He cannot have read the article, for these Talmudic references are its main purport.