Up to within the last few years, the literary language alone could be studied. The books of the period were preserved, but the language of daily life was gone. Now, however, the papyri supply what was lacking. In them there is no attempt at style. They are composed in the language which was employed in the ordinary affairs of life and preserve the actual spoken language of every day.
At this point a remarkable fact must be noticed. The language of the New Testament is more like the language of the non-literary papyri than it is like the language of contemporary literature. The papyri indicate, therefore, that the New Testament is composed in the natural living language of the time rather than according to the canons of an artificial rhetoric. The artlessness of the New Testament has sometimes been regarded as a reproach. Instead, it is a cause for rejoicing. The simplicity of the gospel would only be concealed by niceties of style. The greatness of the New Testament is independent of literary art. It would be a mistake, however, to suppose that the New Testament, because it is composed in the language of the people, is characterized by anything like cheapness or vulgarity. On the contrary its simplicity is the noble simplicity of truth. In the New Testament the spoken language of the Greco-Roman world, in all its living freshness, becomes a worthy vehicle for the sublimest thoughts.
The non-literary papyri, then, reproduce for us the spoken language of the time as distinguished from the artificial language of literature. But that does not exhaust their importance. They afford a knowledge not only of language, but also of life. Through them ordinary people are revealed in the ordinary relations of every day. In them, the ancient world has been made to live again.
A few examples (see the book of Professor Milligan mentioned at the end of the lesson) will serve to indicate the character of the papyrus letters.
The following boy's letter (of the second or the third century after Christ) is written in very bad grammar, but is for that reason all the more lifelike. (The translation is taken from Grenfell and Hunt, "Oxyrhynchus Papyri," Part i., p. 186.)
"Theon to his father Theon, greeting. It was a fine thing of you not to take me with you to the city! If you won't take me with you to Alexandria I won't write you a letter or speak to you or say good-by to you; and if you go to Alexandria I won't take your hand nor ever greet you again. That is what will happen if you won't take me. Mother said to Archalaus, 'It quite upsets him to be left behind (?).' It was good of you to send me presents ... on the 12th, the day you sailed. Send me a lyre, I implore you. If you don't, I won't eat, I won't drink; there now!"
The following invitation to dinner, of the second century after Christ, throws light upon I Corinthians (the translation taken from Professor Milligan):
"Antonius, son of Ptolemæus, invites you to dine with him at the table of the lord Serapis in the house of Claudius Serapion on the 16th at 9 o'clock."