1608, book iv, chapter viii. His journey was made twenty years before.
For Father Boucher, see his Bouquet de la Terre Saincte, Paris, 1622,
pp. 447, 448. For Heidmann, see his Palaestina, 1689, pp. 58-62. For
Belon's credulity in matters referred to, see his Observations de
Plusieurs Singularitez, etc., Paris, 1553, pp. 141-144; and for the
legend of the peas changed into pebbles, p. 145; see also Lartet in De
Luynes, vol. iii, p. 11. For Rauwolf, see the Reyssbuch, and Tobler,
Bibliographia. For a good acoount of the influence of Montaigne in
developing French scepticism, see Prevost-Paradol's study on Montaigne
prefixed to the Le Clerc edition of the Essays, Paris, 1865; also the
well-known passages in Lecky's Rationalism in Europe. For Quaresmio
I have consulted both the Plantin edition of 1639 and the superb new
Venice edition of 1880-'82. The latter, though less prized by book
fanciers, is the more valuable, since it contains some very interesting
recent notes. For the above discussion, see Plantin edition, vol. ii,
pp. 758 et seq., and Venice edition, vol. ii, pp. 572-574. As to the
effect of Quaresmio on the Protestant Church, see Wedelius, De Statua
Salis, Jenae, 1692, pp.6, 7, and elsewhere. For Eugene Roger, see his La
Terre Saincte, Paris, 1664; the map, showing various sites referred to,
is in the preface; and for basilisks, salamanders, etc., see pp. 89-92,
139, 218, and elsewhere.
Not only were these views demonstrated, so far as theologico-scientific
reasoning could demonstrate anything, but it was clearly shown, by a
continuous chain of testimony from the earliest ages, that the salt
statue at Usdum had been recognised as the body of Lot's wife by Jews,
Mohammedans, and the universal Christian Church, "always, everywhere,
and by all."
Under the influence of teachings like these--and of the winter
rains--new wonders began to appear at the salt pillar. In 1661 the
Franciscan monk Zwinner published his travels in Palestine, and gave not
only most of the old myths regarding the salt statue, but a new one, in
some respects more striking than any of the old--for he had heard that a
dog, also transformed into salt, was standing by the side of Lot's wife.
Even the more solid Benedictine scholars were carried away, and we find
in the Sacred History by Prof. Mezger, of the order of St. Benedict,
published in 1700, a renewal of the declaration that the salt statue
must be a "PERPETUAL memorial."
But it was soon evident that the scientific current was still working
beneath this ponderous mass of theological authority. A typical evidence
of this we find in 1666 in the travels of Doubdan, a canon of St. Denis.
As to the Dead Sea, he says that he saw no smoke, no clouds, and no
"black, sticky water"; as to the statue of Lot's wife, he says, "The
moderns do not believe so easily that she has lasted so long"; then, as
if alarmed at his own boldness, he concedes that the sea MAY be black
and sticky in the middle; and from Lot's wife he escapes under cover of
some pious generalities. Four years later another French ecclesiastic,
Jacques Goujon, referring in his published travels to the legends of
the salt pillar, says: "People may believe these stories as much as
they choose; I did not see it, nor did I go there." So, too, in
1697, Morison, a dignitary of the French Church, having travelled in
Palestine, confesses that, as to the story of the pillar of salt, he has
difficulty in believing it.
The same current is observed working still more strongly in the
travels of the Rev. Henry Maundrell, an English chaplain at Aleppo, who
travelled through Palestine during the same year. He pours contempt over
the legends of the Dead Sea in general: as to the story that birds could
not fly over it, he says that he saw them flying there; as to the utter
absence of life in the sea, he saw small shells in it; he saw no traces
of any buried cities; and as to the stories regarding the statue of
Lot's wife and the proposal to visit it, he says, "Nor could we give
faith enough to these reports to induce us to go on such an errand."
The influence of the Baconian philosophy on his mind is very clear; for,
in expressing his disbelief in the Dead Sea apples, with their contents
of ashes, he says that he saw none, and he cites Lord Bacon in support
of scepticism on this and similar points.
But the strongest effect of this growing scepticism is seen near the end
of that century, when the eminent Dutch commentator Clericus (Le Clerc)
published his commentary on the Pentateuch and his Dissertation on the
Statue of Salt.
At great length he brings all his shrewdness and learning to bear
against the whole legend of the actual transformation of Lot's wife and
the existence of the salt pillar, and ends by saying that "the whole
story is due to the vanity of some and the credulity of more."
In the beginning of the eighteenth century we find new tributaries
to this rivulet of scientific thought. In 1701 Father Felix Beaugrand
dismisses the Dead Sea legends and the salt statue very curtly and
dryly--expressing not his belief in it, but a conventional wish to
believe.
In 1709 a scholar appeared in another part of Europe and of different
faith, who did far more than any of his predecessors to envelop the Dead
Sea legends in an atmosphere of truth--Adrian Reland, professor at the
University of Utrecht. His work on Palestine is a monument of patient
scholarship, having as its nucleus a love of truth as truth: there is
no irreverence in him, but he quietly brushes away a great mass of myths
and legends: as to the statue of Lot's wife, he treats it warily, but
applies the comparative method to it with killing effect, by showing
that the story of its miraculous renewal is but one among many of its
kind.(438)
(438) For Zwinner, see his Blumenbuch des Heyligen Landes, Munchen,
1661, p. 454. For Mezger, see his Sacra Historia, Augsburg, 1700, p. 30.
For Doubdan, see his Voyage de la Terre-Sainte, Paris, 1670, pp. 338,
339; also Tobler and Gage's Ritter. For Goujon, see his Histoire et
Voyage de la Terre Saincte, Lyons, 1670, p. 230, etc. For Morison,
see his Voyage, book ii, pp. 516, 517. For Maundrell, see in Wright's
Collection, pp. 383 et seq. For Clericus, see his Dissertation de Salis
Statua, in his Pentateuch, edition of 1696, pp. 327 et seq. For Father
Beaugrand, see his Voyage, Paris, 1701, pp. 137 et seq. For Reland, see
his Palaestina, Utrecht, 1714, vol. i, pp. 61-254, passim.
Yet to superficial observers the old current of myth and marvel seemed
to flow into the eighteenth century as strong as ever, and of this
we may take two typical evidences. The first of these is the Pious
Pilgrimage of Vincent Briemle. His journey was made about 1710; and his
work, brought out under the auspices of a high papal functionary some
years later, in a heavy quarto, gave new life to the stories of the
hellish character of the Dead Sea, and especially to the miraculous
renewal of the salt statue.
In 172O came a still more striking effort to maintain the old belief
in the north of Europe, for in that year the eminent theologian Masius
published his great treatise on The Conversion of Lot's Wife into a
Statue of Salt.
Evidently intending that this work should be the last word on this
subject in Germany, as Quaresmio had imagined that his work would be
the last in Italy, he develops his subject after the high scholastic and
theologic manner. Calling attention first to the divine command in the
New Testament, "Remember Lot's wife," he argues through a long series
of chapters. In the ninth of these he discusses "the impelling cause" of
her looking back, and introduces us to the question, formerly so often
treated by theologians, whether the soul of Lot's wife was finally
saved. Here we are glad to learn that the big, warm heart of Luther
lifted him above the common herd of theologians, and led him to declare
that she was "a faithful and saintly woman," and that she certainly was
not eternally damned. In justice to the Roman Church also it should be
said that several of her most eminent commentators took a similar view,
and insisted that the sin of Lot's wife was venial, and therefore, at
the worst, could only subject her to the fires of purgatory.
The eleventh chapter discusses at length the question HOW she was
converted into salt, and, mentioning many theological opinions, dwells
especially upon the view of Rivetus, that a thunderbolt, made up
apparently of fire, sulphur, and salt, wrought her transformation at the
same time that it blasted the land; and he bases this opinion upon the
twenty-ninth chapter of Deuteronomy and the one hundred and seventh
Psalm.
Later, Masius presents a sacred scientific theory that "saline particles
entered into her until her whole body was infected"; and with this
he connects another piece of sanctified science, to the effect that
"stagnant bile" may have rendered the surface of her body "entirely
shining, bitter, dry, and deformed."
Finally, he comes to the great question whether the salt pillar is still
in existence. On this he is full and fair. On one hand he allows that
Luther thought that it was involved in the general destruction of Sodom
and Gomorrah, and he cites various travellers who had failed to find it;
but, on the other hand, he gives a long chain of evidence to show
that it continued to exist: very wisely he reminds the reader that the
positive testimony of those who have seen it must outweigh the negative
testimony of those who have not, and he finally decides that the salt
statue is still in being.
No doubt a work like this produced a considerable effect in Protestant
countries; indeed, this effect seems evident as far off as England, for,
in 172O, we find in Dean Prideaux's Old and New Testament connected
a map on which the statue of salt is carefully indicated. So, too, in
Holland, in the Sacred Geography published at Utrecht in 1758 by
the theologian Bachiene, we find him, while showing many signs of
rationalism, evidently inclined to the old views as to the existence
of the salt pillar; but just here comes a curious evidence of the real
direction of the current of thought through the century, for, nine years
later, in the German translation of Bachiene's work we find copious
notes by the translator in a far more rationalistic spirit; indeed,
we see the dawn of the inevitable day of compromise, for we now have,
instead of the old argument that the divine power by one miraculous
act changed Lot's wife into a salt pillar, the suggestion that she was
caught in a shower of sulphur and saltpetre, covered by it, and that the
result was a lump, which in a general way IS CALLED in our sacred books
"a pillar of salt."(439)
(439) For Briemle, see his Andachtige Pilgerfahrt, p. 129. For Masius,
see his De Uxore Lothi in Statuam Salis Conversa, Hafniae, 1720,
especially pages 29-31. For Dean Prideaux, see his Old and New Testament
connected in the History of the Jews, 1720, map at page 7. For Bachiene,
see his Historische und geographische Beschreibung von Palaestina,
Leipzig, 1766, vol. i, pp. 118-120, and notes.
But, from the middle of the eighteenth century, the new current sets
through Christendom with ever-increasing strength. Very interesting is
it to compare the great scriptural commentaries of the middle of this
century with those published a century earlier.
Of the earlier ones we may take Matthew Poole's Synopsis as a type:
as authorized by royal decree in 1667 it contains very substantial
arguments for the pious belief in the statue. Of the later ones we may
take the edition of the noted commentary of the Jesuit Tirinus seventy
years later: while he feels bound to present the authorities, he
evidently endeavours to get rid of the subject as speedily as possible
under cover of conventionalities; of the spirit of Quaresmio he shows no
trace.(440)
(440) For Poole (Polus) see his Synopsis, 1669, p. 179; and for Titinus,
the Lyons edition of his Commentary, 1736, p. 10.
About 1760 came a striking evidence of the strength of this new current.
The Abate Mariti then published his book upon the Holy Land; and of
this book, by an Italian ecclesiastic, the most eminent of German
bibliographers in this field says that it first broke a path for
critical study of the Holy Land. Mariti is entirely sceptical as to the
sinking of the valley of Siddim and the overwhelming of the cities. He
speaks kindly of a Capuchin Father who saw everywhere at the Dead Sea
traces of the divine malediction, while he himself could not see them,
and says, "It is because a Capuchin carries everywhere the five senses
of faith, while I only carry those of nature." He speaks of "the lies of
Josephus," and makes merry over "the rude and shapeless block" which the
guide assured him was the statue of Lot's wife, explaining the want
of human form in the salt pillar by telling him that this complete
metamorphosis was part of her punishment.
About twenty years later, another remarkable man, Volney, broaches the
subject in what was then known as the "philosophic" spirit. Between the
years 1783 and 1785 he made an extensive journey through the Holy Land
and published a volume of travels which by acuteness of thought and
vigour of style secured general attention. In these, myth and legend
were thrown aside, and we have an account simply dictated by the love of
truth as truth. He, too, keeps the torch of science burning by applying
his geological knowledge to the regions which he traverses.
As we look back over the eighteenth century we see mingled with the new
current of thought, and strengthening it, a constantly increasing stream
of more strictly scientific observation and reflection.
To review it briefly: in the very first years of the century Maraldi
showed the Paris Academy of Sciences fossil fishes found in the Lebanon
region; a little later, Cornelius Bruyn, in the French edition of his
Eastern travels, gave well-drawn representations of fossil fishes and
shells, some of them from the region of the Dead Sea; about the middle
of the century Richard Pococke, Bishop of Meath, and Korte of Altona
made more statements of the same sort; and toward the close of the
century, as we have seen, Volney gave still more of these researches,
with philosophical deductions from them.
The result of all this was that there gradually dawned upon thinking
men the conviction that, for ages before the appearance of man on the
planet, and during all the period since his appearance, natural laws
have been steadily in force in Palestine as elsewhere; this conviction
obliged men to consider other than supernatural causes for the phenomena
of the Dead Sea, and myth and marvel steadily shrank in value.
But at the very threshold of the nineteenth century Chateaubriand came
into the field, and he seemed to banish the scientific spirit, though
what he really did was to conceal it temporarily behind the vapours
of his rhetoric. The time was propitious for him. It was the period of
reaction after the French Revolution, when what was called religion was
again in fashion, and when even atheists supported it as a good thing
for common people: of such an epoch Chateaubriand, with his superficial
information, thin sentiment, and showy verbiage, was the foreordained
prophet. His enemies were wont to deny that he ever saw the Holy Land;
whether he did or not, he added nothing to real knowledge, but simply
threw a momentary glamour over the regions he described, and especially
over the Dead Sea. The legend of Lot's wife he carefully avoided, for he
knew too well the danger of ridicule in France.
As long as the Napoleonic and Bourbon reigns lasted, and indeed for some
time afterward, this kind of dealing with the Holy Land was fashionable,
and we have a long series of men, especially of Frenchmen, who evidently
received their impulse from Chateaubriand.
About 1831 De Geramb, Abbot of La Trappe, evidently a very noble and
devout spirit, sees vapour above the Dead Sea, but stretches the truth a
little--speaking of it as "vapour or smoke." He could not find the salt
statue, and complains of the "diversity of stories regarding it." The
simple physical cause of this diversity--the washing out of different
statues in different years--never occurs to him; but he comforts himself
with the scriptural warrant for the metamorphosis.(441)
(441) For Mariti, see his Voyage, etc., vol. ii, pp. 352-356. For
Tobler's high opinion of him, see the Bibliographia, pp. 132, 133. For
Volney, see his Voyage en Syrie et Egypte, Paris, 1807, vol. i, pp.
308 et seq.; also, for a statement of contributions of the eighteenth
century to geology, Lartet in De Luynes's Mer Morte, vol. iii, p. 12.
For Cornelius Bruyn, see French edition of his works, 1714 (in which his
name is given as "Le Brun"), especially for representations of fossils,
pp. 309, 375. For Chateaubriand, see his Voyage, etc., vol. ii, part
iii. For De Geramb, see his Voyage, vol. ii, pp. 45-47.
But to the honour of scientific men and scientific truth it should
be said that even under Napoleon and the Bourbons there were men who
continued to explore, observe, and describe with the simple love of
truth as truth, and in spite of the probability that their researches
would be received during their lifetime with contempt and even
hostility, both in church and state.
The pioneer in this work of the nineteenth century was the German
naturalist Ulrich Seetzen. He began his main investigation in 1806, and
soon his learning, courage, and honesty threw a flood of new light into
the Dead Sea questions.
In this light, myth and legend faded more rapidly than ever. Typical
of his method is his examination of the Dead Sea fruit. He found, on
reaching Palestine, that Josephus's story regarding it, which had been
accepted for nearly two thousand years, was believed on all sides; more
than this, he found that the original myth had so grown that a multitude
of respectable people at Bethlehem and elsewhere assured him that not
only apples, but pears, pomegranates, figs, lemons, and many other
fruits which grow upon the shores of the Dead Sea, though beautiful to
look upon, were filled with ashes. These good people declared to Seetzen
that they had seen these fruits, and that, not long before, a basketful
of them which had been sent to a merchant of Jaffa had turned to ashes.
Seetzen was evidently perplexed by this mass of testimony and naturally
anxious to examine these fruits. On arriving at the sea he began to look
for them, and the guide soon showed him the "apples." These he found to
be simply an asclepia, which had been described by Linnaeus, and which
is found in the East Indies, Arabia, Egypt, Jamaica, and elsewhere--the
"ashes" being simply seeds. He looked next for the other fruits, and
the guide soon found for him the "lemons": these he discovered to be a
species of solanum found in other parts of Palestine and elsewhere, and
the seeds in these were the famous "cinders." He looked next for the
pears, figs, and other accursed fruits; but, instead of finding them
filled with ashes and cinders, he found them like the same fruits in
other lands, and he tells us that he ate the figs with much pleasure.
So perished a myth which had been kept alive two thousand years,--partly
by modes of thought natural to theologians, partly by the self-interest
of guides, and partly by the love of marvel-mongering among travellers.
The other myths fared no better. As to the appearance of the sea, he
found its waters not "black and sticky," but blue and transparent; he
found no smoke rising from the abyss, but tells us that sunlight and
cloud and shore were pleasantly reflected from the surface. As to Lot's
wife, he found no salt pillar which had been a careless woman, but the
Arabs showed him many boulders which had once been wicked men.
His work was worthily continued by a long succession of true
investigators,--among them such travellers or geographers as Burckhardt,
Irby, Mangles, Fallmerayer, and Carl von Raumer: by men like these the
atmosphere of myth and legend was steadily cleared away; as a rule, they
simply forgot Lot's wife altogether.
In this noble succession should be mentioned an American theologian, Dr.
Edward Robinson, professor at New York. Beginning about 1826, he devoted
himself for thirty years to the thorough study of the geography of
Palestine, and he found a worthy coadjutor in another American divine,
Dr. Eli Smith. Neither of these men departed openly from the old
traditions: that would have cost a heart-breaking price--the loss of all
further opportunity to carry on their researches. Robinson did not even
think it best to call attention to the mythical character of much on
which his predecessors had insisted; he simply brought in, more and
more, the dry, clear atmosphere of the love of truth for truth's sake,
and, in this, myths and legends steadily disappeared. By doing this
he rendered a far greater service to real Christianity than any other
theologian had ever done in this field.
Very characteristic is his dealing with the myth of Lot's wife. Though
more than once at Usdum,--though giving valuable information regarding
the sea, shore, and mountains there, he carefully avoids all mention of
the salt pillar and of the legend which arose from it. In this he set
an example followed by most of the more thoughtful religious travellers
since his time. Very significant is it to see the New Testament
injunction, "Remember Lot's wife," so utterly forgotten. These later
investigators seem never to have heard of it; and this constant
forgetfulness shows the change which had taken place in the enlightened
thinking of the world.
But in the year 1848 came an episode very striking in its character and
effect.
At that time, the war between the United States and Mexico having
closed, Lieutenant Lynch, of the United States Navy, found himself in
the port of Vera Cruz, commanding an old hulk, the Supply. Looking about
for something to do, it occurred to him to write to the Secretary of
the Navy asking permission to explore the Dead Sea. Under ordinary
circumstances the proposal would doubtless have been strangled with
red tape; but, fortunately, the Secretary at that time was Mr. John Y.
Mason, of Virginia. Mr. Mason was famous for his good nature. Both
at Washington and at Paris, where he was afterward minister, this
predominant trait has left a multitude of amusing traditions; it was of
him that Senator Benton said, "To be supremely happy he must have his
paunch full of oysters and his hands full of cards."
The Secretary granted permission, but evidently gave the matter not
another thought. As a result, came an expedition the most comical and
one of the most rich in results to be found in American annals. Never
was anything so happy-go-lucky. Lieutenant Lynch started with his hulk,
with hardly an instrument save those ordinarily found on shipboard, and
with a body of men probably the most unfit for anything like scientific
investigation ever sent on such an errand; fortunately, he picked up
a young instructor in mathematics, Mr. Anderson, and added to his
apparatus two strong iron boats.
Arriving, after a tedious voyage, on the coast of Asia Minor, he set to
work. He had no adequate preparation in general history, archaeology,
or the physical sciences; but he had his American patriotism, energy,
pluck, pride, and devotion to duty, and these qualities stood him in
good stead. With great labour he got the iron boats across the country.
Then the tug of war began. First of all investigators, he forced his way
through the whole length of the river Jordan and from end to end of the
Dead Sea. There were constant difficulties--geographical, climatic, and
personal; but Lynch cut through them all. He was brave or shrewd, as
there was need. Anderson proved an admirable helper, and together
they made surveys of distances, altitudes, depths, and sundry simple
investigations in a geological, mineralogical, and chemical way. Much
was poorly done, much was left undone, but the general result was most
honourable both to Lynch and Anderson; and Secretary Mason found that
his easy-going patronage of the enterprise was the best act of his
official life.
The results of this expedition on public opinion were most curious.
Lynch was no scholar in any sense; he had travelled little, and thought
less on the real questions underlying the whole investigation; as to
the difference in depth of the two parts of the lake, he jumped--with
a sailor's disregard of logic--to the conclusion that it somehow proved
the mythical account of the overwhelming of the cities, and he indulged
in reflections of a sort probably suggested by his recollections of
American Sunday-schools.
Especially noteworthy is his treatment of the legend of Lot's wife. He
found the pillar of salt. It happened to be at that period a circular
column of friable salt rock, about forty feet high; yet, while he
accepts every other old myth, he treats the belief that this was once
the wife of Lot as "a superstition." One little circumstance added
enormously to the influence of this book, for, as a frontispiece, he
inserted a picture of the salt column. It was delineated in rather a
poetic manner: light streamed upon it, heavy clouds hung above it,
and, as a background, were ranged buttresses of salt rock furrowed and
channelled out by the winter rains: this salt statue picture was spread
far and wide, and in thousands of country pulpits and Sunday-schools it
was shown as a tribute of science to Scripture.
Nor was this influence confined to American Sunday-school children:
Lynch had innocently set a trap into which several European theologians
stumbled. One of these was Dr. Lorenz Gratz, Vicar-General of Augsburg,
a theological professor. In the second edition of his Theatre of the
Holy Scriptures, published in 1858, he hails Lynch's discovery of the
salt pillar with joy, forgets his allusion to the old theory regarding
it as a superstition, and does not stop to learn that this was one of a
succession of statues washed out yearly by the rains, but accepts it as
the originaL Lot's wife.
The French churchmen suffered most. About two years after Lynch, De
Saulcy visited the Dead Sea to explore it thoroughly, evidently in the
interest of sacred science--and of his own promotion. Of the modest
thoroughness of Robinson there is no trace in his writings. He promptly
discovered the overwhelmed cities, which no one before or since has ever
found, poured contempt on other investigators, and threw over his whole
work an air of piety. But, unfortunately, having a Frenchman's dread of
ridicule, he attempted to give a rationalistic explanation of what he
calls "the enormous needles of salt washed out by the winter rain," and
their connection with the Lot's wife myth, and declared his firm belief
that she, "being delayed by curiosity or terror, was crushed by a rock
which rolled down from the mountain, and when Lot and his children
turned about they saw at the place where she had been only the rock of
salt which covered her body."
But this would not do at all, and an eminent ecclesiastic privately and
publicly expostulated with De Saulcy--very naturally declaring that "it
was not Lot who wrote the book of Genesis."
The result was that another edition of De Saulcy's work was published by
a Church Book Society, with the offending passage omitted; but a passage
was retained really far more suggestive of heterodoxy, and this was an
Arab legend accounting for the origin of certain rocks near the Dead Sea
curiously resembling salt formations. This in effect ran as follows:
"Abraham, the friend of God, having come here one day with his mule to
buy salt, the salt-workers impudently told him that they had no salt to
sell, whereupon the patriarch said: 'Your words are, true, you have
no salt to sell,' and instantly the salt of this whole region was
transformed into stone, or rather into a salt which has lost its
savour."
Nothing could be more sure than this story to throw light into the
mental and moral process by which the salt pillar myth was originally
created.
In the years 1864 and 1865 came an expedition on a much more imposing
scale: that of the Duc de Luynes. His knowledge of archaeology and his
wealth were freely devoted to working the mine which Lynch had opened,
and, taking with him an iron vessel and several savants, he devoted
himself especially to finding the cities of the Dead Sea, and to
giving less vague accounts of them than those of De Saulcy. But he
was disappointed, and honest enough to confess his disappointment. So
vanished one of the most cherished parts of the legend.
But worse remained behind. In the orthodox duke's company was an acute
geologist, Monsieur Lartet, who in due time made an elaborate report,
which let a flood of light into the whole region.
The Abbe Richard had been rejoicing the orthodox heart of France by
exhibiting some prehistoric flint implements as the knives which Joshua
had made for circumcision. By a truthful statement Monsieur Lartet set
all France laughing at the Abbe, and then turned to the geology of the
Dead Sea basin. While he conceded that man may have seen some volcanic
crisis there, and may have preserved a vivid remembrance of the vapour
then rising, his whole argument showed irresistibly that all the
phenomena of the region are due to natural causes, and that, so far from
a sudden rising of the lake above the valley within historic times, it
has been for ages steadily subsiding.
Since Balaam was called by Balak to curse his enemies, and "blessed them
altogether," there has never been a more unexpected tribute to truth.
Even the salt pillar at Usdum, as depicted in Lynch's book, aided to
undermine the myth among thinking men; for the background of the picture
showed other pillars of salt in process of formation; and the ultimate
result of all these expeditions was to spread an atmosphere in which
myth and legend became more and more attenuated.
To sum up the main points in this work of the nineteenth century:
Seetzen, Robinson, and others had found that a human being could
traverse the lake without being killed by hellish smoke; that the waters
gave forth no odours; that the fruits of the region were not created
full of cinders to match the desolation of the Dead Sea, but were
growths not uncommon in Asia Minor and elsewhere; in fact, that all the
phenomena were due to natural causes.
Ritter and others had shown that all noted features of the Dead Sea
and the surrounding country were to be found in various other lakes and
regions, to which no supernatural cause was ascribed among enlightened
men. Lynch, Van de Velde, Osborne, and others had revealed the fact that
the "pillar of salt" was frequently formed anew by the rains; and Lartet
and other geologists had given a final blow to the myths by making it
clear from the markings on the neighbouring rocks that, instead of a
sudden upheaval of the sea above the valley of Siddim, there had been a
gradual subsidence for ages.(442)
(442) For Seetzen, see his Reisen, edited by Kruse, Berlin, 1854-'59;
for the "Dead Sea Fruits," vol. ii, pp. 231 et seq.; for the appearance
of the sea, etc., p. 243, and elsewhere; for the Arab explanatory
transformation legends, vol. iii, pp. 7, 14, 17. As to similarity of the
"pillars of salt" to columns washed out by rains elsewhere, see Kruse's
commentary in vol. iv, p. 240; also Fallmerayer, vol. i, p. 197. For
Irby and Mangles, see work already cited. For Robinson, see his Biblical
Researches, London,1841; also his Later Biblical Researches, London,
1856. For Lynch, see his Narrative, London, 1849. For Gratz, see his
Schauplatz der Heyl. Schrift, pp. 186, 187. For De Saulcy, see his
Voyage autour de la Mer Morte, Paris, 1853, especially vol. i, p. 252,
and his journal of the early months of 1851, in vol. ii, comparing it
with his work of the same title published in 1858 in the Bibliotheque
Catholique de Voyages et du Romans, vol. i, pp. 78-81. For Lartet, see
his papers read before the Geographical Society at Paris; also citations
in Robinson; but, above all, his elaborate reports which form the
greater part of the second and third volumes of the monumental work
which bears the name of De Luynes, already cited. For exposures of De
Saulcey's credulity and errors, see Van de Velde, Syria and Palestine,
passim; also Canon Tristram's Land of Israel; also De Luynes, passim.
Even before all this evidence was in, a judicial decision had been
pronounced upon the whole question by an authority both Christian
and scientific, from whom there could be no appeal. During the second
quarter of the century Prof. Carl Ritter, of the University of Berlin,
began giving to the world those researches which have placed him at
the head of all geographers ancient or modern, and finally he brought
together those relating to the geography of the Holy Land, publishing
them as part of his great work on the physical geography of the
earth. He was a Christian, and nothing could be more reverent than his
treatment of the whole subject; but his German honesty did not permit
him to conceal the truth, and he simply classed together all the stories
of the Dead Sea--old and new--no matter where found, whether in the
sacred books of Jews, Christians, or Mohammedans, whether in lives of
saints or accounts of travellers, as "myths" and "sagas."
From this decision there has never been among intelligent men any
appeal.
The recent adjustment of orthodox thought to the scientific view of the
Dead Sea legends presents some curious features. As typical we may
take the travels of two German theologians between 1860 and 1870--John
Kranzel, pastor in Munich, and Peter Schegg, lately professor in the
university of that city.
The archdiocese of Munich-Freising is one of those in which the attempt
to suppress modern scientific thought has been most steadily carried on.
Its archbishops have constantly shown themselves assiduous in securing
cardinals' hats by thwarting science and by stupefying education.
The twin towers of the old cathedral of Munich have seemed to throw a
killing shadow over intellectual development in that region. Naturally,
then, these two clerical travellers from that diocese did not commit
themselves to clearing away any of the Dead Sea myths; but it is
significant that neither of them follows the example of so many of their
clerical predecessors in defending the salt-pillar legend: they steadily
avoid it altogether.
The more recent history of the salt pillar, since Lynch, deserves
mention. It appears that the travellers immediately after him found
it shaped by the storms into a spire; that a year or two later it had
utterly disappeared; and about the year 1870 Prof. Palmer, on visiting
the place, found at some distance from the main salt bed, as he says,
"a tall, isolated needle of rock, which does really bear a curious
resemblance to an Arab woman with a child upon her shoulders."
And, finally, Smith's Dictionary of the Bible, the standard work of
reference for English-speaking scholars, makes its concession to the old
belief regarding Sodom and Gomorrah as slight as possible, and the myth
of Lot's wife entirely disappears.
IV. THEOLOGICAL EFFORTS AT COMPROMISE.--TRIUMPH OF THE SCIENTIFIC VIEW.
The theological effort to compromise with science now came in more
strongly than ever. This effort had been made long before: as we have
seen, it had begun to show itself decidedly as soon as the influence
of the Baconian philosophy was felt. Le Clerc suggested that the shock
caused by the sight of fire from heaven killed Lot's wife instantly and
made her body rigid as a statue. Eichhorn suggested that she fell into a
stream of melted bitumen. Michaelis suggested that her relatives raised
a monument of salt rock to her memory. Friedrichs suggested that she
fell into the sea and that the salt stiffened around her clothing, thus
making a statue of her. Some claimed that a shower of sulphur came
down upon her, and that the word which has been translated "salt" could
possibly be translated "sulphur." Others hinted that the salt by its
antiseptic qualities preserved her body as a mummy. De Saulcy, as we
have seen, thought that a piece of salt rock fell upon her, and very
recently Principal Dawson has ventured the explanation that a flood of
salt mud coming from a volcano incrusted her.
But theologians themselves were the first to show the inadequacy of
these explanations. The more rationalistic pointed out the fact that
they were contrary to the sacred text: Von Bohlen, an eminent professor
at Konigsberg, in his sturdy German honesty, declared that the salt
pillar gave rise to the story, and compared the pillar of salt causing
this transformation legend to the rock in Greek mythology which gave
rise to the transformation legend of Niobe.
On the other hand, the more severely orthodox protested against such
attempts to explain away the clear statements of Holy Writ. Dom Calmet,
while presenting many of these explanations made as early as his time,
gives us to understand that nearly all theologians adhered to the idea
that Lot's wife was instantly and really changed into salt; and in
our own time, as we shall presently see, have come some very vigorous
protests.
Similar attempts were made to explain the other ancient legends
regarding the Dead Sea. One of the most recent of these is that the
cities of the plain, having been built with blocks of bituminous rock,
were set on fire by lightning, a contemporary earthquake helping on the
work. Still another is that accumulations of petroleum and inflammable
gas escaped through a fissure, took fire, and so produced the
catastrophe.(443)
(443) For Kranzel, see his Reise nach Jerusalem, etc. For Schegg, see
his Gedenkbuch einer Pilgerreise, etc., 1867, chap. xxiv. For Palmer,
see his Desert of the Exodus, vol. ii, pp. 478, 479. For the various
compromises, see works already cited, passim. For Von Bohlen, see
his Genesis, Konigsberg, 1835, pp. 200-213. For Calmet, see his
Dictionarium, etc, Venet., 1766. For very recent compromises, see J. W.
Dawson and Dr. Cunningham Geikie in works cited.
The revolt against such efforts to RECONCILE scientific fact with myth
and legend had become very evident about the middle of the nineteenth
century. In 1851 and 1852 Van de Velde made his journey. He was a most
devout man, but he confessed that the volcanic action at the Dead Sea
must have been far earlier than the catastrophe mentioned in our sacred
books, and that "the overthrow of Sodom and Gomorrah had nothing to
do with this." A few years later an eminent dignitary of the English
Church, Canon Tristram, doctor of divinity and fellow of the Royal
Society, who had explored the Holy Land thoroughly, after some
generalities about miracles, gave up the whole attempt to make science
agree with the myths, and used these words: "It has been frequently
assumed that the district of Usdum and its sister cities was the result
of some tremendous geological catastrophe.... Now, careful examination by
competent geologists, such as Monsieur Lartet and others, has shown that
the whole district has assumed its present shape slowly and gradually
through a succession of ages, and that its peculiar phenomena are
similar to those of other lakes." So sank from view the whole mass
of Dead Sea myths and legends, and science gained a victory both for
geology and comparative mythology.
As a protest against this sort of rationalism appeared in 1876 an
edition of Monseigneur Mislin's work on The Holy Places. In order to
give weight to the book, it was prefaced by letters from Pope Pius IX
and sundry high ecclesiastics--and from Alexandre Dumas! His hatred
of Protestant missionaries in the East is phenomenal: he calls them
"bagmen," ascribes all mischief and infamy to them, and his hatred is
only exceeded by his credulity. He cites all the arguments in favour of
the salt statue at Usdum as the identical one into which Lot's wife was
changed, adds some of his own, and presents her as "a type of doubt and
heresy." With the proverbial facility of dogmatists in translating any
word of a dead language into anything that suits their purpose, he says
that the word in the nineteenth chapter of Genesis which is translated
"statue" or "pillar," may be translated "eternal monument"; he is
especially severe on poor Monsieur De Saulcy for thinking that Lot's
wife was killed by the falling of a piece of salt rock; and he actually
boasts that it was he who caused De Saulcy, a member of the French
Institute, to suppress the obnoxious passage in a later edition.
Between 1870 and 1880 came two killing blows at the older theories, and
they were dealt by two American scholars of the highest character.
First of these may be mentioned Dr. Philip Schaff, a professor in the
Presbyterian Theological Seminary at New York, who published his travels
in 1877. In a high degree he united the scientific with the religious
spirit, but the trait which made him especially fit for dealing with
this subject was his straightforward German honesty. He tells the simple
truth regarding the pillar of salt, so far as its physical origin and
characteristics are concerned, and leaves his reader to draw the natural
inference as to its relation to the myth. With the fate of Dr. Robertson
Smith in Scotland and Dr. Woodrow in South Carolina before him--both
recently driven from their professorships for truth-telling--Dr. Schaff
deserves honour for telling as much as he does.
Similar in effect, and even more bold in statement, were the travels of
the Rev. Henry Osborn, published in 1878. In a truly scientific spirit
he calls attention to the similarity of the Dead Sea, with the river
Jordan, to sundry other lake and river systems; points out the endless
variations between writers describing the salt formations at Usdum;
accounts rationally for these variations, and quotes from Dr. Anderson's
report, saying, "From the soluble nature of the salt and the crumbling
looseness of the marl, it may well be imagined that, while some of these
needles are in the process of formation, others are being washed away."
Thus came out, little by little, the truth regarding the Dead Sea myths,
and especially the salt pillar at Usdum; but the final truth remained to
be told in the Church, and now one of the purest men and truest divines
of this century told it. Arthur Stanley, Dean of Westminster, visiting
the country and thoroughly exploring it, allowed that the physical
features of the Dead Sea and its shores suggested the myths and legends,
and he sums up the whole as follows: "A great mass of legends and
exaggerations, partly the cause and partly the result of the old belief
that the cities were buried under the Dead Sea, has been gradually
removed in recent years."
So, too, about the same time, Dr. Conrad Furrer, pastor of the great
church of St. Peter at Zurich, gave to the world a book of travels,
reverent and thoughtful, and in this honestly acknowledged that the
needles of salt at the southern end of the Dead Sea "in primitive times
gave rise to the tradition that Lot's wife was transformed into a statue
of salt." Thus was the mythical character of this story at last openly
confessed by Leading churchmen on both continents.
Plain statements like these from such sources left the high theological
position more difficult than ever, and now a new compromise was
attempted. As the Siberian mother tried to save her best-beloved child
from the pursuing wolves by throwing over to them her less favoured
children, so an effort was now made in a leading commentary to save the
legends of the valley of Siddim and the miraculous destruction of the
cities by throwing overboard the legend of Lot's wife.(444)
(444) For Mislin, see his Les Saints Lieux, Paris, vol. iii, pp.
290-293, especially note at foot of page 292. For Schaff, see his
Through Bible Lands, especially chapter xxix; see also Rev. H. S.
Osborn, M. A., The Holy Land, pp. 267 et seq.; also Stanley's Sinai and
Palestine, London, 1887, especially pp. 290-293. For Furrer, see his
En Palestine, Geneva, 1886, vol. i, p.246. For the attempt to save
one legend by throwing overboard the other, see Keil and Delitzsch,
Biblischer Commentar uber das Alte Testament, vol. i, pp. 155, 156. For
Van de Velde, see his Syria and Palestine, vol. ii, p. 120.
An amusing result has followed this development of opinion. As we have
already seen, traveller after traveller, Catholic and Protestant, now
visits the Dead Sea, and hardly one of them follows the New Testament
injunction to "remember Lot's wife." Nearly every one of them seems to
think it best to forget her. Of the great mass of pious legends they are
shy enough, but that of Lot's wife, as a rule, they seem never to
have heard of, and if they do allude to it they simply cover the whole
subject with a haze of pious rhetoric.(445)
(445) The only notice of the Lot's wife legend in the editions of
Robinson at my command is a very curious one by Leopold von Buch, the
eminent geologist. Robinson, with a fearlessness which does him credit,
consulted Von Buch, who in his answer was evidently inclined to make
things easier for Robinson by hinting that Lot was so much struck by
the salt formations that HE IMAGINED that his wife had been changed into
salt. On this theory, Robinson makes no comment. See Robinson, Biblical
Researches in Palestine, etc., London, 1841, vol. ii, p. 674.
Naturally, under this state of things, there has followed the usual
attempt to throw off from Christendom the responsibility of the old
belief, and in 1887 came a curious effort of this sort. In that year
appeared the Rev. Dr. Cunningham Geikie's valuable work on The Holy Land
and the Bible. In it he makes the following statement as to the
salt formation at Usdum: "Here and there, hardened portions of salt
withstanding the water, while all around them melts and wears off, rise
up isolated pillars, one of which bears among the Arabs the name of
'Lot's wife.'"
In the light of the previous history, there is something at once
pathetic and comical in this attempt to throw the myth upon the
shoulders of the poor Arabs. The myth was not originated by Mohammedans;
it appears, as we have seen, first among the Jews, and, I need hardly
remind the reader, comes out in the Book of Wisdom and in Josephus, and
has been steadily maintained by fathers, martyrs, and doctors of the
Church, by at least one pope, and by innumerable bishops, priests,
monks, commentators, and travellers, Catholic and Protestant, ever
since. In thus throwing the responsibility of the myth upon the Arabs
Dr. Geikie appears to show both the "perfervid genius" of his countrymen
and their incapacity to recognise a joke.
Nor is he more happy in his rationalistic explanations of the whole mass
of myths. He supposes a terrific storm, in which the lightning kindled
the combustible materials of the cities, aided perhaps by an earthquake;
but this shows a disposition to break away from the exact statements of
the sacred books which would have been most severely condemned by the
universal Church during at least eighteen hundred years of its history.
Nor would the explanations of Sir William Dawson have fared any better:
it is very doubtful whether either of them could escape unscathed today
from a synod of the Free Church of Scotland, or of any of the leading
orthodox bodies in the Southern States of the American Union.(446)
(446) For these most recent explanations, see Rev. Cunningham Geikie, D.
D., in work cited; also Sir J. W. Dawson, Egypt and Syria, published
by the Religious Tract Society, 1887, pp. 125, 126; see also Dawson's
article in The Expositor for January, 1886.
How unsatisfactory all such rationalism must be to a truly theological
mind is seen not only in the dealings with Prof. Robertson Smith in
Scotland and Prof. Woodrow in South Carolina, but most clearly in a book
published in 1886 by Monseigneur Haussmann de Wandelburg. Among other
things, the author was Prelate of the Pope's House-hold, a Mitred Abbot,
Canon of the Holy Sepulchre, and a Doctor of Theology of the Pontifical
University at Rome, and his work is introduced by approving letters from
Pope Leo XIII and the Patriarch of Jerusalem. Monseigneur de Wandelburg
scorns the idea that the salt column at Usdum is not the statue of Lot's
wife; he points out not only the danger of yielding this evidence
of miracle to rationalism, but the fact that the divinely inspired
authority of the Book of Wisdom, written, at the latest, two hundred and
fifty years before Christ, distinctly refers to it. He summons Josephus
as a witness. He dwells on the fact that St. Clement of Rome, Irenaeus,
Hegesippus, and St. Cyril, "who as Bishop of Jerusalem must have known
better than any other person what existed in Palestine," with St.
Jerome, St. Chrysostom, and a multitude of others, attest, as a matter
of their own knowledge or of popular notoriety, that the remains of
Lot's wife really existed in their time in the form of a column of salt;
and he points triumphantly to the fact that Lieutenant Lynch found this
very column. In the presence of such a continuous line of witnesses,
some of them considered as divinely inspired, and all of them greatly
revered--a line extending through thirty-seven hundred years--he
condemns most vigorously all those who do not believe that the pillar
of salt now at Usdum is identical with the wife of Lot, and stigmatizes
them as people who "do not wish to believe the truth of the Word of
God."
His ignorance of many of the simplest facts bearing upon the legend is
very striking, yet he does not hesitate to speak of men who know far
more and have thought far more upon the subject as "grossly ignorant."
The most curious feature in his ignorance is the fact that he is
utterly unaware of the annual changes in the salt statue. He is entirely
ignorant of such facts as that the priest Gabriel Giraudet in the
sixteenth century found the statue lying down; that the monk Zwinner
found it in the seventeenth century standing, and accompanied by a dog
also transformed into salt; that Prince Radziwill found no statue at
all; that the pious Vincent Briemle in the eighteenth century found
the monument renewing itself; that about the middle of the nineteenth
century Lynch found it in the shape of a tower or column forty feet
high; that within two years afterward De Saulcy found it washed into the
form of a spire; that a year later Van de Velde found it utterly washed
away; and that a few years later Palmer found it "a statue bearing a
striking resemblance to an Arab woman with a child in her arms." So
ended the last great demonstration, thus far, on the side of sacred
science--the last retreating shot from the theological rear guard.
It is but just to say that a very great share in the honour of the
victory of science in this field is due to men trained as theologians.
It would naturally be so, since few others have devoted themselves to
direct labour in it; yet great honour is none the less due to such men
as Reland, Mariti, Smith, Robinson, Stanley, Tristram, and Schat.
They have rendered even a greater service to religion than to science,
for they have made a beginning, at least, of doing away with that
enforced belief in myths as history which has become a most serious
danger to Christianity.
For the worst enemy of Christianity could wish nothing more than that
its main Leaders should prove that it can not be adopted save by those
who accept, as historical, statements which unbiased men throughout the
world know to be mythical. The result of such a demonstration would only
be more and more to make thinking people inside the Church dissemblers,
and thinking people outside, scoffers. Far better is it to welcome the
aid of science, in the conviction that all truth is one, and, in the
light of this truth, to allow theology and science to work together in
the steady evolution of religion and morality.
The revelations made by the sciences which most directly deal with the
history of man all converge in the truth that during the earlier stages
of this evolution moral and spiritual teachings must be inclosed in
myth, legend, and parable. "The Master" felt this when he gave to the
poor peasants about him, and so to the world, his simple and beautiful
illustrations. In making this truth clear, science will give to religion
far more than it will take away, for it will throw new life and light
into all sacred literature.
CHAPTER XIX. FROM LEVITICUS TO POLITICAL ECONOMY
I. ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF HOSTILITY TO LOANS AT INTEREST.
Among questions on which the supporters of right reason in political
and social science have only conquered theological opposition after
centuries of war, is the taking of interest on loans. In hardly any
struggle has rigid adherence to the letter of our sacred books been more
prolonged and injurious.
Certainly, if the criterion of truth, as regards any doctrine, be that
of St. Vincent of Lerins--that it has been held in the Church "always,
everywhere, and by all"--then on no point may a Christian of these days
be more sure than that every savings institution, every loan and trust
company, every bank, every loan of capital by an individual, every means
by which accumulated capital has been lawfully lent even at the most
moderate interest, to make men workers rather than paupers, is based on
deadly sin.
The early evolution of the belief that taking interest for money is
sinful presents a curious working together of metaphysical, theological,
and humanitarian ideas.
In the main centre of ancient Greek civilization, the loaning of money
at interest came to be accepted at an early period as a condition of
productive industry, and no legal restriction was imposed. In Rome there
was a long process of development: the greed of creditors in early times
led to laws against the taking of interest; but, though these lasted
long, that strong practical sense which gave Rome the empire of
the world substituted finally, for this absolute prohibition, the
establishment of rates by law. Yet many of the leading Greek and
Roman thinkers opposed this practical settlement of the question, and,
foremost of all, Aristotle. In a metaphysical way he declared that money
is by nature "barren"; that the birth of money from money is therefore
"unnatural"; and hence that the taking of interest is to be censured
and hated. Plato, Plutarch, both the Catos, Cicero, Seneca, and
various other leaders of ancient thought, arrived at much the same
conclusion--sometimes from sympathy with oppressed debtors; sometimes
from dislike of usurers; sometimes from simple contempt of trade.
From these sources there came into the early Church the germ of a
theological theory upon the subject.
But far greater was the stream of influence from the Jewish and
Christian sacred books. In the Old Testament stood various texts
condemning usury--the term usury meaning any taking of interest: the law
of Moses, while it allowed usury in dealing with strangers, forbade it
in dealing with Jews. In the New Testament, in the Sermon on the Mount,
as given by St. Luke, stood the text "Lend, hoping for nothing again."
These texts seemed to harmonize with the most beautiful characteristic
of primitive Christianity; its tender care for the poor and oppressed:
hence we find, from the earliest period, the whole weight of the Church
brought to bear against the taking of interest for money.(448)
(448) On the general allowance of interest for money in Greece, even at
high rates, see Bockh, Public Economy of the Athenians, translated by
Lamb, Boston, 1857, especially chaps. xxii, xxiii, and xxiv of book i.
For a view of usury taken by Aristotle, see his Politics and Economics,
translated by Walford, p. 27; also Grote, History of Greece, vol. iii,
chap. xi. For summary of opinions in Greece and Rome, and their relation
to Christian thought, see Bohm-Bawerk, Capital and Interest, translated
by Smart, London, 1890, chap. i. For a very full list of scripture texts
against the taking of interest, see Pearson, The Theories on Usury
in Europe, 1100-1400, Cambridge (England), 1876, p. 6. The texts most
frequently cited were Leviticus xxv, 36, 37; Deuteronomy xxiii, 19 and
26; Psalms, xv, 5; Ezekiel xviii, 8 and 17; St. Luke, vi, 35. For a
curious modern use of them, see D. S. Dickinson's speech in the State of
New York, in vol. i of his collected writings. See also Lecky, History
of Rationalism in Europe, vol. ii, chap. vi; and above all, as the most
recent historical summary by a leading historian of political economy,
Bohm-Bawerk, as above.
The great fathers of the Eastern Church, and among them St. Basil,
St. Chrysostom, and St. Gregory of Nyssa,--the fathers of the Western
Church, and among them Tertullian, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, and St.
Jerome, joined most earnestly in this condemnation. St. Basil denounces
money at interest as a "fecund monster," and says, "The divine law
declares expressly, 'Thou shalt not lend on usury to thy brother or thy
neighbour.'" St. Gregory of Nyssa calls down on him who lends money at
interest the vengeance of the Almighty. St. Chrysostom says: "What can
be more unreasonable than to sow without land, without rain, without
ploughs? All those who give themselves up to this damnable culture
shall reap only tares. Let us cut off these monstrous births of gold and
silver; let us stop this execrable fecundity."
Lactantius called the taking of interest "robbery." St. Ambrose declared
it as bad as murder, St. Jerome threw the argument into the form of a
dilemma, which was used as a weapon against money-lenders for centuries.
Pope Leo the Great solemnly adjudged it a sin worthy of severe
punishment.(449)
(449) For St. Basil and St. Gregory of Nyssa, see French translation
of their diatribes in Homelies contre les Usuriers, Paris, Hachette,
1861-'62, especially p. 30 of St. Basil. For some doubtful reservations
by St. Augustine, see Murray, History of Usury. For St. Ambrose, see De
Officiis, lib. iii, cap. ii, in Migne, Patr. Lat., vol. xvi; also the De
Tobia, in Migne, vol. xiv. For St. Augustine, see De Bapt. contr Donat.,
lib. iv, cap. ix, in Migne, vol. xliii. For Lactantius, see his Opera,
Leyden, 1660, p. 608. For Cyprian, see his Testimonies against the Jews,
translated by Wallis, book iii, article 48. For St. Jerome, see his Com.
in Ezekiel, xviii, 8, in Migne, vol. xxv, pp. 170 et seq. For Leo the
Great, see his letter to the bishops of various provinces of Italy,
cited in the Jus. Can., cap. vii, can. xiv, qu. 4. For very fair
statements of the attitude of the fathers on this question, see Addis
and Arnold, Catholic Dictionary, London, 1884, and Smith and Cheetham,
Dictionary of Christian Antiquities, London, 1875-'80; in each, under
article Usury.
This unanimity of the fathers of the Church brought about a
crystallization of hostility to interest-bearing loans into numberless
decrees of popes and councils and kings and legislatures throughout
Christendom during more than fifteen hundred years, and the canon law
was shaped in accordance with these. At first these were more especially
directed against the clergy, but we soon find them extending to the
laity. These prohibitions were enforced by the Council of Arles in 314,
and a modern Church apologist insists that every great assembly of the
Church, from the Council of Elvira in 306 to that of Vienne in 1311,
inclusive, solemnly condemned lending money at interest. The greatest
rulers under the sway of the Church--Justinian, in the Empire of the
East; Charlemagne, in the Empire of the West; Alfred, in England; St.
Louis, in France--yielded fully to this dogma. In the ninth century
Alfred went so far as to confiscate the estates of money-lenders,
denying them burial in Consecrated ground; and similar decrees were made
in other parts of Europe. In the twelfth century the Greek Church seems
to have relaxed its strictness somewhat, but the Roman Church grew
more severe. St. Anselm proved from the Scriptures that the taking of
interest is a breach of the Ten Commandments. Peter Lombard, in his
Sentences, made the taking of interest purely and simply theft. St.
Bernard, reviving religious earnestness in the Church, took the same
view. In 1179 the Third Council of the Lateran decreed that impenitent
money-lenders should be excluded from the altar, from absolution in the
hour of death, and from Christian burial. Pope Urban III reiterated
the declaration that the passage in St. Luke forbade the taking of any
interest whatever. Pope Alexander III declared that the prohibition in
this matter could never be suspended by dispensation.
In the thirteenth century Pope Gregory IX dealt an especially severe
blow at commerce by his declaration that even to advance on interest the
money necessary in maritime trade was damnable usury; and this was fitly
followed by Gregory X, who forbade Christian burial to those guilty of
this practice; the Council of Lyons meted out the same penalty. This
idea was still more firmly fastened upon the world by the two greatest
thinkers of the time: first, by St. Thomas Aquinas, who knit it into the
mind of the Church by the use of the Scriptures and of Aristotle; and
next by Dante, who pictured money-lenders in one of the worst regions of
hell.
About the beginning of the fourteenth century the "Subtile Doctor" of
the Middle Ages, Duns Scotus, gave to the world an exquisite piece of
reasoning in evasion of the accepted doctrine; but all to no purpose:
the Council of Vienne, presided over by Pope Clement V, declared that
if any one "shall pertinaciously presume to affirm that the taking of
interest for money is not a sin, we decree him to be a heretic, fit for
punishment." This infallible utterance bound the dogma with additional
force on the conscience of the universal Church.
Nor was this a doctrine enforced by rulers only; the people were no less
strenuous. In 1390 the city authorities of London enacted that, "if any
person shall lend or put into the hands of any person gold or silver
to receive gain thereby, such person shall have the punishment for
usurers." And in the same year the Commons prayed the king that the laws
of London against usury might have the force of statutes throughout the
realm.
In the fifteenth century the Council of the Church at Salzburg excluded
from communion and burial any who took interest for money, and this was
a very general rule throughout Germany.
An exception was, indeed, sometimes made: some canonists held that Jews
might be allowed to take interest, since they were to be damned in any
case, and their monopoly of money-lending might prevent Christians from
losing their souls by going into the business. Yet even the Jews were
from time to time punished for the crime of usury; and, as regards
Christians, punishment was bestowed on the dead as well as the
living--the bodies of dead money-lenders being here and there dug up and
cast out of consecrated ground.
The popular preachers constantly declaimed against all who took
interest. The medieval anecdote books for pulpit use are especially full
on this point. Jacques de Vitry tells us that demons on one occasion
filled a dead money-lender's mouth with red-hot coins; Cesarius of
Heisterbach declared that a toad was found thrusting a piece of money
into a dead usurer's heart; in another case, a devil was seen pouring
molten gold down a dead money-lender's throat.(450)
(450) For an enumeration of councils condemning the taking of interest
for money, see Liegeois, Essai sur l'Histoire et la Legislation de
l'Usure, Paris, 1865, p. 78; also the Catholic Dictionary as above. For
curious additional details and sources regarding mediaeval horror of
usurers, see Ducange, Glossarium, etc., article Caorcini. T he date 306,
for the Council of Elvira is that assigned by Hefele. For the decree
of Alexander III, see citation from the Latin text in Lecky. For a
long catalogue of ecclesiastical and civil decrees against taking of
interest, see Petit, Traite de l'Usure, Paris, 1840. For the reasoning
at the bottom of this, see Cunningham, Christian Opinion on Usury,
London, 1884. For the Salzburg decrees, see Zillner, Salzburgusche
Culturgeschichte, p. 232; and for Germany generally, see Neumann,
Geschichte des Wuchers in Deutschland, Halle, 1865, especially pp. 22 et
seq; also Roscher, National-Oeconomis. For effect of mistranslation
of the passage of Luke in the Vulgate, see Dollinger, p. 170, and
especially pp. 224, 225 For the capitularies of Charlemagne against
usury, see Liegeois, p. 77. For Gregory X and the Council of Lyons, see
Sextus Decretalium liber, pp. 669 et. seq. For Peter Lombard, see his
Lib. Sententiarum, III, dist. xxxvii, 3. For St. Thomas Aquinas, see his
works, Migne, vol. iii, Paris 1889, quaestio 78, pp. 587 et seq., citing
the Scriptures and Aristotle, and especially developing Aristotle's
metaphysical idea regarding the "barrenness" of money. For a very good
summary of St. Thomas's ideas, see Pearson. pp. 30 et seq. For Dante,
see in canto xi of the Inferno a revelation of the amazing depth of the
hostility to the taking of interest. For the London law of 1390 and the
petition to the king, see Cunningham, Growth of English Industry and
Commerce, pp. 210, 326; also the Abridgment of the Records in the Tower
of London, p. 339. For the theory that Jews, being damned already, might
be allowed to practice usury, see Liegeois, Histoire de l'Usure, p. 82.
For St. Bernard's view, see Epist. CCCLXIII, in Migne, vol. clxxxii,
p. 567. For ideas and anecdotes for preachers' use, see Joannes a San
Geminiano, Summa de Exemplis, Antwerp, 1629, fol. 493, a; also the
edition of Venice, 1584, ff. 132, 159; but especially, for multitudes
of examples, see the Exempla of Jacques de Vitry, edited by Prof. T.
F. Crane, of Cornell University, London, 1890, pp. 203 et seq. For the
canon law in regard to interest, see a long line of authorities cited in
Die Wucherfrage, St. Louis, 1869, pp. 92 et seq., and especially Decret.
Gregor., lib v, lit. 19, cap. iii, and Clementin., lib. v, lit. 5, sec.
2; see also the Corpus Juris Canonici, Paris, 1618, pp. 227, 228.
For the position of the English Church, see Gibson's Corpus Juris
Ecclesiastici Anglicani, pp. 1070, 1071, 1106.
This theological hostility to the taking of interest was imbedded firmly
in the canon law. Again and again it defined usury to be the taking of
anything of value beyond the exact original amount of a loan; and
under sanction of the universal Church it denounced this as a crime
and declared all persons defending it to be guilty of heresy. What this
meant the world knows but too well.
The whole evolution of European civilization was greatly hindered by
this conscientious policy. Money could only be loaned in most countries
at the risk of incurring odium in this world and damnation in the
next; hence there was but little capital and few lenders. The rates of
interest became at times enormous; as high as forty per cent in England,
and ten per cent a month in Italy and Spain. Commerce, manufactures, and
general enterprise were dwarfed, while pauperism flourished.
Yet worse than these were the moral results. Doing what one holds to be
evil is only second in bad consequences to doing what is really evil;
hence, all lending and borrowing, even for the most legitimate purposes
and at the most reasonable rates, tended to debase both borrower and
lender. The prohibition of lending at interest in continental Europe
promoted luxury and discouraged economy; the rich, who were not
engaged in business, finding no easy way of employing their incomes
productively, spent them largely in ostentation and riotous living. One
evil effect is felt in all parts of the world to this hour. The Jews,
so acute in intellect and strong in will, were virtually drawn or driven
out of all other industries or professions by the theory that their
race, being accursed, was only fitted for the abhorred profession of
money-lending.(451)
(451) For evil economic results, and especially for the rise of the rate
of interest in England and elsewhere at times to forty per cent, see
Cunningham, Growth of English Industry and Commerce, Cambridge, 1890,
p. 189; and for its rising to ten per cent a month, see Bedarride, Les
Juifs en France, en Italie, at en Espagne, p. 220; see also Hallam's
Middle Ages, London, 1853, pp. 401, 402. For the evil moral effects of
the Church doctrine against taking interest, see Montesquieu, Esprit
des Lois, lib. xxi, chap. xx; see also Sismondi, cited in Lecky. For
the trifling with conscience, distinction between "consumptibles" and
"fungibles," "possessio" and "dominium," etc., see Ashley, English
Economic History, New York, pp. 152, 153; see also Leopold Delisle,
Etudes, pp. 198, 468. For the effects of these doctrines on the Jews,
see Milman, History of the Jews, vol. iii, p. 179; also Wellhausen,
History of Israel, London, 1885, p. 546; also Beugnot, Les Juifs
d'Occident, Paris, 1824, pt. 2, p. 114 (on driving Jews out of other
industries than money-lending). For a noted mediaeval evasion of the
Church rules against usury, see Peruzzi, Storia del Commercio e dei
Banchieri di Firenze, Florence, 1868, pp. 172, 173.
These evils were so manifest, when trade began to revive throughout
Europe in the fifteenth century, that most earnest exertions were put
forth to induce the Church to change its position.
The first important effort of this kind was made by John Gerson. His
general learning made him Chancellor of the University of Paris; his
sacred learning made him the leading orator at the Council of Constance;
his piety led men to attribute to him The Imitation of Christ. Shaking
off theological shackles, he declared, "Better is it to lend money at
reasonable interest, and thus to give aid to the poor, than to see them
reduced by poverty to steal, waste their goods, and sell at a low price
their personal and real property."
But this idea was at once buried beneath citations from the Scriptures,
the fathers, councils, popes, and the canon law. Even in the most active
countries there seemed to be no hope. In England, under Henry VII,
Cardinal Morton, the lord chancellor, addressed Parliament, asking it to
take into consideration loans of money at interest. The result was a law
which imposed on lenders at interest a fine of a hundred pounds besides
the annulment of the loan; and, to show that there was an offence
against religion involved, there was added a clause "reserving to the
Church, notwithstanding this punishment, the correction of their souls
according to the laws of the same."
Similar enactments were made by civil authority in various parts of
Europe; and just when the trade, commerce, and manufactures of the
modern epoch had received an immense impulse from the great series of
voyages of discovery by such men as Columbus, Vasco da Gama, Magellan,
and the Cabots, this barrier against enterprise was strengthened by a
decree from no less enlightened a pontiff than Leo X.
The popular feeling warranted such decrees. As late as the end of
the Middle Ages we find the people of Piacenza dragging the body of a
money-lender out of his grave in consecrated ground and throwing it into
the river Po, in order to stop a prolonged rainstorm; and outbreaks of
the same spirit were frequent in other countries. (452)
(452) For Gerson's argument favouring a reasonable rate of interest, see
Coquelin and Guillaumin, Dictionnaire, article Interet. For the renewed
opposition to the taking of interest in England, see Craik, History of
British Commerce, chap. vi. The statute cited is 3 Henry VII, chap. vi;
it is found in Gibson's Corpus Juris Eccles. Anglic., p. 1071. For
the adverse decree of Leo X, see Liegeois, p. 76. See also Lecky,
Rationalism, vol. ii. For the dragging out of the usurer's body at
Piacenza, see Burckhardt, The Renaissance in Italy, London, 1878, vol.
ii, p. 339. For public opinion of similar strength on this subject in
England, see Cunningham, p. 239; also Pike, History of Crime in England,
vol. i, pp. 127, 193. For good general observations on the same, see
Stephen, History of Criminal Law in England, London, 1883, vol. iii, pp.
195-197. For usury laws in Castile and Aragon, see Bedarride, pp.
191, 192. For exceedingly valuable details as to the attitude of the
mediaeval Church, see Leopold Delisle, Etudes sur la Classe Agricole en
Normandie au Moyen Age, Evreux, 1851, pp. 200 et seq., also p. 468. For
penalties in France, see Matthew Paris, Chronica Majora, in the Rolls
Series, especially vol. iii, pp. 191, 192. For a curious evasion,
sanctioned by Popes Martin V and Calixtus III when Church corporations
became money-lenders, see H. C. Lea on The Ecclesiastical Treatment of
Usury, in the Yale Review for February, 1894. For a detailed development
of interesting subordinate points, see Ashley, Introduction to English
Economic History and Theory, vol. ii, ch, vi.
Another mode of obtaining relief was tried. Subtle theologians devised
evasions of various sorts. Two among these inventions of the schoolmen
obtained much notoriety.
The first was the doctrine of "damnum emergens": if a lender suffered
loss by the failure of the borrower to return a loan at a date named,
compensation might be made. Thus it was that, if the nominal date of
payment was made to follow quickly after the real date of the loan,
the compensation for the anticipated delay in payment had a very strong
resemblance to interest. Equally cogent was the doctrine of "lucrum
cessans": if a man, in order to lend money, was obliged to diminish his
income from productive enterprises, it was claimed that he might receive
in return, in addition to his money, an amount exactly equal to this
diminution in his income.
But such evasions were looked upon with little favour by the great body
of theologians, and the name of St. Thomas Aquinas was triumphantly
cited against them.
Opposition on scriptural grounds to the taking of interest was not
confined to the older Church. Protestantism was led by Luther and
several of his associates into the same line of thought and practice.
Said Luther. "To exchange anything with any one and gain by the exchange
is not to do a charity; but to steal. Every usurer is a thief worthy
of the gibbet. I call those usurers who lend money at five or six per
cent." But it is only just to say that at a later period Luther took
a much more moderate view. Melanchthon, defining usury as any interest
whatever, condemned it again and again; and the Goldberg Catechism of
1558, for which he wrote a preface and recommendation, declares every
person taking interest for money a thief. From generation to generation
this doctrine was upheld by the more eminent divines of the Lutheran
Church in all parts of Germany. The English reformers showed the same
hostility to interest-bearing loans. Under Henry VIII the law of Henry
VII against taking interest had been modified for the better; but the
revival of religious feeling under Edward VI caused in 1552 the passage
of the "Bill of Usury." In this it is said, "Forasmuch as usury is
by the word of God utterly prohibited, as a vice most odious and
detestable, as in divers places of the Holy Scriptures it is evident to
be seen, which thing by no godly teachings and persuasions can sink into
the hearts of divers greedy, uncharitable, and covetous persons of
this realm, nor yet, by any terrible threatenings of God's wrath and
vengeance," etc., it is enacted that whosoever shall thereafter lend
money "for any manner of usury, increase, lucre, gain, or interest, to
be had, received, or hoped for," shall forfeit principal and interest,
and suffer imprisonment and fine at the king's pleasure.(453)
(453) For Luther's views, see his sermon, Von dem Wucher, Wittenberg,
1519; also the Table Talk, cited in Coquelin and Guillaumin, article
Interet. For the later, more moderate views of Luther, Melanchthon, and
Zwingli, making a compromise with the needs of society, see Bohm-Bawerk,
p. 27, citing Wiskemann. For Melanchthon and a long line of the most
eminent Lutheran divines who have denounced the taking of interest, see
Die Wucherfrage, St. Louis, 1869, pp. 94 et seq. For the law against
usury under Edward VI, see Cobbett's Parliamentary History, vol. i, p.
596; see also Craik, History of British Commerce, chap. vi.
But, most fortunately, it happened that Calvin, though at times
stumbling over the usual texts against the taking of interest for money,
turned finally in the right direction. He cut through the metaphysical
arguments of Aristotle, and characterized the subtleties devised to
evade the Scriptures as "a childish game with God." In place of
these subtleties there was developed among Protestants a serviceable
fiction--the statement that usury means ILLEGAL OR OPPRESSIVE INTEREST.
Under the action of this fiction, commerce and trade revived rapidly
in Protestant countries, though with occasional checks from exact
interpreters of Scripture. At the same period in France, the great
Protestant jurist Dumoulin brought all his legal learning and skill in
casuistry to bear on the same side. A certain ferretlike acuteness
and litheness seem to have enabled him to hunt down the opponents of
interest-taking through the most tortuous arguments of scholasticism.
In England the struggle went on with varying fortune; statesmen on one
side, and theologians on the other. We have seen how, under Henry
VIII, interest was allowed at a fixed rate, and how, the development of
English Protestantism having at first strengthened the old theological
view, there was, under Edward VI, a temporarily successful attempt to
forbid the taking of interest by law.
The Puritans, dwelling on Old Testament texts, continued for a
considerable time especially hostile to the taking of any interest.
Henry Smith, a noted preacher, thundered from the pulpit of St. Clement
Danes in London against "the evasions of Scripture" which permitted men
to lend money on interest at all. In answer to the contention that only
"biting" usury was oppressive, Wilson, a noted upholder of the strict
theological view in political economy, declared: "There is difference in
deed between the bite of a dogge and the bite of a flea, and yet, though
the flea doth lesse harm, yet the flea doth bite after hir kinde, yea,
and draweth blood, too. But what a world this is, that men will make sin
to be but a fleabite, when they see God's word directly against them!"
The same view found strong upholders among contemporary English
Catholics. One of the most eminent of these, Nicholas Sanders, revived
very vigorously the use of an old scholastic argument. He insisted
that "man can not sell time," that time is not a human possession, but
something which is given by God alone: he declared, "Time was not of
your gift to your neighbour, but of God's gift to you both."
In the Parliament of the period, we find strong assertions of the old
idea, with constant reference to Scripture and the fathers. In one
debate, Wilson cited from Ezekiel and other prophets and attributed to
St. Augustine the doctrine that "to take but a cup of wine is usury
and damnable." Fleetwood recalled the law of King Edward the Confessor,
which submitted usurers to the ordeal.
But arguments of this sort had little influence upon Elizabeth and her
statesmen. Threats of damnation in the next world troubled them little
if they could have their way in this. They re-established the practice
of taking interest under restrictions, and this, in various forms,
has remained in England ever since. Most notable in this phase of the
evolution of scientific doctrine in political economy at that period
is the emergence of a recognised difference between USURY and
INTEREST. Between these two words, which had so long been synonymous,
a distinction now appears: the former being construed to indicate
OPPRESSIVE INTEREST, and the latter JUST RATES for the use of money.
This idea gradually sank into the popular mind of Protestant countries,
and the scriptural texts no longer presented any difficulty to the
people at large, since there grew up a general belief that the word
"usury," as employed in Scripture, had ALWAYS meant exorbitant interest;
and this in spite of the parable of the Talents. Still, that the old
Aristotelian quibble had not been entirely forgotten, is clearly seen by
various passages in Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice. But this line of
reasoning seems to have received its quietus from Lord Bacon. He did
not, indeed, develop a strong and connected argument on the subject;
but he burst the bonds of Aristotle, and based interest for money upon
natural laws. How powerful the new current of thought was, is seen
from the fact that James I, of all monarchs the most fettered by
scholasticism and theology, sanctioned a statute dealing with interest
for money as absolutely necessary. Yet, even after this, the old idea
asserted itself; for the bishops utterly refused to agree to the law
allowing interest until a proviso was inserted that "nothing in this law
contained shall be construed or expounded to allow the practice of usury
in point of religion or conscience." The old view cropped out from time
to time in various public declarations. Famous among these were the
Treatise of Usury, published in 1612 by Dr. Fenton, who restated the
old arguments with much force, and the Usury Condemned of John Blaxton,
published in 1634. Blaxton, who also was a clergyman, defined usury as
the taking of any interest whatever for money, citing in support of this
view six archbishops and bishops and over thirty doctors of divinity in
the Anglican Church, some of their utterances being very violent and all
of them running their roots down into texts of Scripture. Typical among
these is a sermon of Bishop Sands, in which he declares, regarding the
taking of interest: "This canker hath corrupted all England; we shall
doe God and our country true service by taking away this evill; represse
it by law, else the heavy hand of God hangeth over us and will strike
us."
II. RETREAT OF THE CHURCH, PROTESTANT AND CATHOLIC.
But about the middle of the seventeenth century Sir Robert Filmer gave
this doctrine the heaviest blow it ever received in England. Taking up
Dr. Fenton's treatise, he answered it, and all works like it, in a way
which, however unsuitable to this century, was admirably adapted to
that. He cites Scripture and chops logic after a masterly manner.
Characteristic is this declaration: "St. Paul doth, with one breath,
reckon up seventeen sins, and yet usury is none of them; but many
preachers can not reckon up seven deadly sins, except they make usury
one of them." Filmer followed Fenton not only through his theology, but
through his political economy, with such relentless keenness that the
old doctrine seems to have been then and there practically worried out
of existence, so far as England was concerned.
Departures from the strict scriptural doctrines regarding interest soon
became frequent in Protestant countries, and they were followed up with
especial vigour in Holland. Various theologians in the Dutch Church
attempted to assert the scriptural view by excluding bankers from
the holy communion; but the commercial vigour of the republic was too
strong: Salmasius led on the forces of right reason brilliantly, and by
the middle of the seventeenth century the question was settled rightly
in that country. This work was aided, indeed, by a far greater man, Hugo
Grotius; but here was shown the power of an established dogma. Great as
Grotius was--and it may well be held that his book on War and Peace
has wrought more benefit to humanity than any other attributed to
human authorship--he was, in the matter of interest for money, too much
entangled in theological reasoning to do justice to his cause or
to himself. He declared the prohibition of it to be scriptural, but
resisted the doctrine of Aristotle, and allowed interest on certain
natural and practical grounds.
In Germany the struggle lasted longer. Of some little significance,
perhaps, is the demand of Adam Contzen, in 1629, that lenders
at interest should be punished as thieves; but by the end of the
seventeenth century Puffendorf and Leibnitz had gained the victory.
Protestantism, open as it was to the currents of modern thought, could
not long continue under the dominion of ideas unfavourable to economic
development, and perhaps the most remarkable proof of this was presented
early in the eighteenth century in America, by no less strict a
theologian than Cotton Mather. In his Magnalia he argues against the
whole theological view with a boldness, acuteness, and good sense which
cause us to wonder that this can be the same man who was so infatuated
regarding witchcraft. After an argument so conclusive as his, there
could have been little left of the old anti-economic doctrine in New
England.(454)
(454) For Calvin's views, see his letter published in the appendix to
Pearson's Theories on Usury. His position is well-stated in Bohm-Bawerk,
pp. 28 et seq., where citations are given. See also Economic Tracts,
No. IV, New York, 1881, pp. 34, 35; and for some serviceable Protestant
fictions, see Cunningham, Christian Opinion on Usury, pp. 60, 61. For
Dumoulin (Molinaeus), see Bohm-Bawerk, as above, pp. 29 et seq. For
debates on usury in the British Parliament in Elizabeth's time, see
Cobbett, Parliamentary History, vol. i, pp 756 et seq. A striking
passage in Shakespeare is found in the Merchant of Venice, Act I, scene
iii: "If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not as to thy friend; for
when did friendship take a breed for barren metal of his friend?" For
the right direction taken by Lord Bacon, see Neumann, Geschichte des
Wuchers in Deutschland, Halle, 1864, pp. 497, 498. For Salmasius, see
his De Usuris, Leyden, 1638, and for others mentioned, see Bohm-Bawerk,
pp. 34 et seq.; also Lecky, vol. ii. p. 256. For the saving clause
inderted by the bishops in the statute of James I, see the Corpus Juris
Eccles. Anglic., p. 1071; also Murray, History of Usury, Philadelphia,
1866, p. 49.
For Blaxton, see his English Usurer, or Usury Condemned, by John
Blaxton, Preacher of God's Word, London, 1634. Blaxton gives some of
Calvin's earlier utterances against interest. For Bishop Sands;s sermon,
see p. 11. For Filmer, see his Quaestio Quodlibetica, London, 1652,
reprinted in the Harleian Miscellany, vol x, pp. 105 et seq. For
Grotius, see the De Jure Belli ac Pacis, lib. ii, cap. xii. For Cotton
Mather's argument, see the Magnalia, London, 1702, pp. 5, 52.
But while the retreat of the Protestant Church from the old doctrine
regarding the taking of interest was henceforth easy, in the Catholic
Church it was far more difficult. Infallible popes and councils, with
saints, fathers, and doctors, had so constantly declared the taking of
any interest at all to be contrary to Scripture, that the more exact
though less fortunate interpretation of the sacred text relating to
interest continued in Catholic countries. When it was attempted in
France in the seventeenth century to argue that usury "means oppressive
interest," the Theological Faculty of the Sorbonne declared that usury
is the taking of any interest at all, no matter how little; and the
eighteenth chapter of Ezekiel was cited to clinch this argument.
Another attempt to ease the burden of industry and commerce was made by
declaring that "usury means interest demanded not as a matter of favour
but as a matter of right." This, too, was solemnly condemned by Pope
innocent XI.
Again an attempt was made to find a way out of the difficulty by
declaring that "usury is interest greater than the law allows." This,
too, was condemned, and so also was the declaration that "usury is
interest on loans not for a fixed time."
Still the forces of right reason pressed on, and among them, in the
seventeenth century, in France, was Richard Simon. He attempted to gloss
over the declarations of Scripture against lending at interest, in an
elaborate treatise, but was immediately confronted by Bossuet. Just as
Bossuet had mingled Scripture with astronomy and opposed the Copernican
theory, so now he mingled Scripture with political economy and denounced
the lending of money at interest. He called attention to the fact that
the Scriptures, the councils of the Church from the beginning, the
popes, the fathers, had all interpreted the prohibition of "usury" to
be a prohibition of any lending at interest; and he demonstrated this
interpretation to be the true one. Simon was put to confusion and his
book condemned.
There was but too much reason for Bossuet's interpretation. There stood
the fact that the prohibition of one of the most simple and beneficial
principles in political and economical science was affirmed, not only
by the fathers, but by twenty-eight councils of the Church, six of them
general councils, and by seventeen popes, to say nothing of innumerable
doctors in theology and canon law. And these prohibitions by the Church
had been accepted as of divine origin by all obedient sons of the Church
in the government of France. Such rulers as Charles the Bald in the
ninth century, and St. Louis in the thirteenth, had riveted this idea
into the civil law so firmly that it seemed impossible ever to detach
it.(455)
(455) For the declaration of the Sorbonne in the seventeenth century
against taking of interest, see Lecky, Rationalism, vol. ii, p. 248,
note. For the special condemnation by Innocent XI, see Viva, Damnatae
Theses, Pavia, 1715, pp. 112-114. For consideration of various ways of
escaping the difficulty regarding interest, see Lecky, Rationalism,
vol. ii, pp. 249, 250. For Bousset's strong declaration against taking
interest, see his Oeuvres, Paris, 1845-'46, vol. i, p. 734, vol. vi,
p. 654, and vol. ix, p. 49 et seq. For the number of councils and popes
condemning usury, see Lecky, as above, vol. ii, p. 255, note, citing
Concina.
As might well be expected, Italy was one of the countries in which
the theological theory regarding usury--lending at interest--was most
generally asserted and assented to. Among the great number of Italian
canonists who supported the theory, two deserve especial mention, as
affording a contrast to the practical manner in which the commercial
Italians met the question.
In the sixteenth century, very famous among canonists was the learned
Benedictine, Vilagut. In 1589 he published at Venice his great work
on usury, supporting with much learning and vigour the most extreme
theological consequences of the old doctrine. He defines usury as the
taking of anything beyond the original loan, and declares it mortal sin;
he advocates the denial to usurers of Christian burial, confession,
the sacraments, absolution, and connection with the universities; he
declares that priests receiving offerings from usurers should refrain
from exercising their ministry until the matter is passed upon by the
bishop.
About the middle of the seventeenth century another ponderous folio was
published in Venice upon the same subject and with the same title, by
Onorato Leotardi. So far from showing any signs of yielding, he is even
more extreme than Vilagut had been, and quotes with approval the old
declaration that lenders of money at interest are not only robbers but
murderers.
So far as we can learn, no real opposition was made in either century to
this theory, as a theory; as to PRACTICE, it was different. The Italian
traders did not answer theological argument; they simply overrode it. In
spite of theology, great banks were established, and especially that
of Venice at the end of the twelfth century, and those of Barcelona and
Genoa at the beginning of the fifteenth. Nowhere was commerce carried
on in more complete defiance of this and other theological theories
hampering trade than in the very city where these great treatises
were published. The sin of usury, like the sin of commerce with the
Mohammedans, seems to have been settled for by the Venetian merchants
on their deathbeds; and greatly to the advantage of the magnificent
churches and ecclesiastical adornments of the city.
By the seventeenth century the clearest thinkers in the Roman Church saw
that her theology must be readjusted to political economy: so began a
series of amazing attempts to reconcile a view permitting usury with the
long series of decrees of popes and councils forbidding it.
In Spain, the great Jesuit casuist Escobar led the way, and rarely
had been seen such exquisite hair-splitting. But his efforts were not
received with the gratitude they perhaps deserved. Pascal, revolting at
their moral effect, attacked them unsparingly in his Provincial Letters,
citing especially such passages as the following: "It is usury to
receive profit from those to whom one lends, if it be exacted as justly
due; but, if it be exacted as a debt of gratitude, it is not usury."
This and a multitude of similar passages Pascal covered with the keen
ridicule and indignant denunciation of which he was so great a master.
But even the genius of Pascal could not stop such efforts. In the
eighteenth century they were renewed by a far greater theologian than
Escobar--by him who was afterward made a saint and proclaimed a doctor
of the Church--Alphonso Liguori.
Starting with bitter denunciations of usury, Liguori soon developed a
multitude of subtle devices for escaping the guilt of it. Presenting
a long and elaborate theory of "mental, usury" he arrives at the
conclusion that, if the borrower pay interest of his own free will, the
lender may keep it. In answer to the question whether the lender may
keep what the borrower paid, not out of gratitude but out of fear--fear
that otherwise loans might be refused him in future--Liguori says, "To
be usury it must be paid by reason of a contract, or as justly due;
payment by reason of such a fear does not cause interest to be paid
as an actual price." Again Liguori tells us, "It is not usury to
exact something in return for the danger and expense of regaining
the principal." The old subterfuges of "Damnum emergens" and "Lucrum
cessans" are made to do full duty. A remarkable quibble is found in the
answer to the question whether he sins who furnishes money to a man
whom he knows to intend employing it in usury. After citing affirmative
opinions from many writers, Liguori says, "Notwithstanding these
opinions, the better opinion seems to me to be that the man thus putting
out his money is not bound to make restitution, for his action is not
injurious to the borrower, but rather favourable to him," and this
reasoning the saint develops at great length.
In the Latin countries this sort of casuistry eased the relations of
the Church with the bankers, and it was full time; for now there came
arguments of a different kind. The eighteenth century philosophy
had come upon the stage, and the first effective onset of political
scientists against the theological opposition in southern Europe was
made in Italy--the most noted leaders in the attack being Galiani and
Maffei. Here and there feeble efforts were made to meet them, but it was
felt more and more by thinking churchmen that entirely different tactics
must be adopted.
About the same time came an attack in France, and though its results
were less immediate at home, they were much more effective abroad. In
1748 appeared Montesquieu's Spirit of the Laws. In this famous book were
concentrated twenty years of study and thought by a great thinker on
the interests of the world about him. In eighteen months it went through
twenty-two editions; it was translated into every civilized language;
and among the things on which Montesquieu brought his wit and wisdom
to bear with especial force was the doctrine of the Church regarding
interest on loans. In doing this he was obliged to use a caution in
forms which seems strangely at variance with the boldness of his ideas.
In view of the strictness of ecclesiastical control in France, he felt
it safest to make his whole attack upon those theological and economic
follies of Mohammedan countries which were similar to those which the
theological spirit had fastened on France.(456)
(456) For Vilagut, see his Tractatus de Usuris, Venice, 1589, especially
pp. 21, 25, 399. For Leotardi, see his De Usuris, Venice, 1655,
especially preface, pp. 6, 7 et seq. For Pascal and Escobar, see the
Provincial Letters, edited by Sayres, Cambridge, 1880, Letter VIII, pp.
183-186; also a note to the same letter, p. 196. For Liguori, see
his Theologia Moralis, Paris, 1834, lib. iii, tract v, cap. iii: De
Contractibus, dub, vii. For the eighteenth century attack in Italy, see
Bohm-Bawerk, pp. 48 et seq. For Montesquieu's view of interest on loans,
see the Esprit des Lois, livre xxii.
By the middle of the eighteenth century the Church authorities at
Rome clearly saw the necessity of a concession: the world would endure
theological restriction no longer; a way of escape MUST be found. It was
seen, even by the most devoted theologians, that mere denunciations and
use of theological arguments or scriptural texts against the scientific
idea were futile.
To this feeling it was due that, even in the first years of the century,
the Jesuit casuists had come to the rescue. With exquisite subtlety some
of their acutest intellects devoted themselves to explaining away the
utterances on this subject of saints, fathers, doctors, popes, and
councils. These explanations were wonderfully ingenious, but many of the
older churchmen continued to insist upon the orthodox view, and at last
the Pope himself intervened. Fortunately for the world, the seat of
St. Peter was then occupied by Benedict XIV, certainly one of the most
gifted, morally and intellectually, in the whole line of Roman pontiffs.
Tolerant and sympathetic for the oppressed, he saw the necessity of
taking up the question, and he grappled with it effectually: he
rendered to Catholicism a service like that which Calvin had rendered
to Protestantism, by shrewdly cutting a way through the theological
barrier. In 1745 he issued his encyclical Vix pervenit, which declared
that the doctrine of the Church remained consistent with itself; that
usury is indeed a sin, and that it consists in demanding any amount
beyond the exact amount lent, but that there are occasions when on
special grounds the lender may obtain such additional sum.
What these "occasions" and "special grounds" might be, was left very
vague; but this action was sufficient.
At the same time no new restrictions upon books advocating the taking
of interest for money were imposed, and, in the year following his
encyclical, Benedict openly accepted the dedication of one of them--the
work of Maffei, and perhaps the most cogent of all.
Like the casuistry of Boscovich in using the Copernican theory for
"convenience in argument," while acquiescing in its condemnation by the
Church authorities, this encyclical of Pope Benedict broke the spell.
Turgot, Quesnay, Adam Smith, Hume, Bentham, and their disciples pressed
on, and science won for mankind another great victory.(457)
(457) For Quesnay, see his Observations sur l'Interet de l'Argent, in
his Oeuvres, Frankfort and Paris, 1888, pp. 399 et seq. For Turgot, see
the Collections des Economistes, Paris, 1844, vols. iii and iv; also
Blanqui, Histoire de l'Economie Politique, English translation, p. 373.
For an excellent though brief summary of the efforts of the Jesuits to
explain away the old action of the Church, see Lecky, vol. ii, pp
256, 257. For the action of Benedict XIV, see Reusch, Der Index der
Vorbotenen Bucher, Bonn, 1885, vol. ii, pp 847, 848. For a comical
picture of the "quagmire' into which the hierarchy brought itself in the
squaring of its practice with its theory, see Dollinger, as above, pp.
227, 228. For cunningly vague statements of the action of Benedict XIV,
see Mastrofini, Sur l'Usure, French translation, Lyons, 1834, pp. 125,
255. The abbate, as will be seen, has not the slightest hesitaion in
telling an untruth in order to preserve the consistency of papal action
in the matter of usury--e.g., pp. 93, 94 96, and elsewhere.
Yet in this case, as in others, insurrections against the sway of
scientific truth appeared among some overzealous religionists. When the
Sorbonne, having retreated from its old position, armed itself with
new casuistries against those who held to its earlier decisions, sundry
provincial doctors in theology protested indignantly, making the
old citations from the Scriptures, fathers, saints, doctors, popes,
councils, and canonists. Again the Roman court intervened. In 1830
the Inquisition at Rome, with the approval of Pius VIII, though still
declining to commit itself on the DOCTRINE involved, decreed that, as to
PRACTICE, confessors should no longer disturb lenders of money at legal
interest.
But even this did not quiet the more conscientious theologians. The old
weapons were again furbished and hurled by the Abbe Laborde, Vicar
of the Metropolitan Archdiocese of Auch, and by the Abbe Dennavit,
Professor of Theology at Lyons. Good Abbe Dennavit declared that he
refused absolution to those who took interest and to priests who pretend
that the sanction of the civil law is sufficient.
But the "wisdom of the serpent" was again brought into requisition, and
early in the decade between 1830 and 1840 the Abbate Mastrofini issued
a work on usury, which, he declared on its title-page, demonstrated that
"moderate usury is not contrary to Holy Scripture, or natural law,
or the decisions of the Church." Nothing can be more comical than the
suppressions of truth, evasions of facts, jugglery with phrases,
and perversions of history, to which the abbate is forced to resort
throughout his book in order to prove that the Church has made no
mistake. In the face of scores of explicit deliverances and decrees of
fathers, doctors, popes, and councils against the taking of any interest
whatever for money, he coolly pretended that what they had declared
against was EXORBITANT interest. He made a merit of the action of the
Church, and showed that its course had been a blessing to humanity. But
his masterpiece is in dealing with the edicts of Clement V and Benedict
XIV. As to the first, it will be remembered that Clement, in accord
with the Council of Vienne, had declared that "any one who shall
pertinaciously presume to affirm that the taking of interest for money
is not a sin, we decree him to be a heiretic fit for punishment," and we
have seen that Benedict XIV did not at all deviate from the doctrines of
his predecessors. Yet Mastrofini is equal to his task, and brings out,
as the conclusion of his book, the statement put upon his title-page,
that what the Church condemns is only EXORBITANT interest.
This work was sanctioned by various high ecclesiastical dignitaries, and
served its purpose; for it covered the retreat of the Church.
In 1872 the Holy Office, answering a question solemnly put by the Bishop
of Ariano, as solemnly declared that those who take eight per cent
interest per annum are "not to be disquieted"; and in 1873 appeared a
book published under authority from the Holy See, allowing the faithful
to take moderate interest under condition that any future decisions
of the Pope should be implicitly obeyed. Social science as applied to
political economy had gained a victory final and complete. The Torlonia
family at Rome to-day, with its palaces, chapels, intermarriages,
affiliations, and papal favour--all won by lending money at interest,
and by liberal gifts, from the profits of usury, to the Holy See--is but
one out of many growths of its kind on ramparts long since surrendered
and deserted.(458)
(458) For the decree forbidding confessors to trouble lenders of money
at legal interest, see Addis and Arnold, Catholic Dictionary, as above;
also Mastrofini, as above, in the appendix, where various other
recent Roman decrees are given. As to the controversy generally, see
Mastrofini; also La Replique des douze Docteurs, cited by Guillaumin and
Coquelin; also Reusch, vol. ii, p. 850. As an example of Mastrofini's
way of making black appear white, compare the Latin text of the decree
on page 97 with his statements regarding it; see also his cunning
substitution of the new significance of the word usury for the old in
various parts of his book. A good historical presentation of the general
subject will be found in Roscher, Geschichte der National-Oeconomie in
Deutschland, Munchen, 1874, under articles Wucher and Zinsnehmen. For
France, see especially Petit, Traite de l'Usure, Paris, 1840; and for
Germany, see Neumann, Geschichte des Wuchers in Deutschland, Halle,
1865. For the view of a modern leader of thought in this field, see
Jeremy Bentham, Defence of Usury, Letter X. For an admirable piece of
research into the nicer points involved in the whole subject, see H.
C. Lea, The Ecclesiatical Treatment of Usury, in the Yale Review for
February, 1894.
The dealings of theology with public economy were by no means confined
to the taking of interest for money. It would be interesting to note
the restrictions placed upon commerce by the Church prohibition of
commercial intercourse with infidels, against which the Republic of
Venice fought a good fight; to note how, by a most curious perversion
of Scripture in the Greek Church, many of the peasantry of Russia were
prevented from raising and eating potatoes; how, in Scotland, at the
beginning of this century, the use of fanning mills for winnowing grain
was widely denounced as contrary to the text, "The wind bloweth where it
listeth," etc., as leaguing with Satan, who is "Prince of the powers of
the air," and therefore as sufficient cause for excommunication from the
Scotch Church. Instructive it would be also to note how the introduction
of railways was declared by an archbishop of the French Church to be an
evidence of the divine displeasure against country innkeepers who set
meat before their guests on fast days, and who were now punished by
seeing travellers carried by their doors; how railways and telegraphs
were denounced from a few noted pulpits as heralds of Antichrist; and
how in Protestant England the curate of Rotherhithe, at the breaking in
of the Thames Tunnel, so destructive to life and property, declared it
from his pulpit a just judgment upon the presumptuous aspirations of
mortal man.
The same tendency is seen in the opposition of conscientious men to the
taking of the census in Sweden and the United States, on account of
the terms in which the numbering of Israel is spoken of in the Old
Testament. Religious scruples on similar grounds have also been avowed
against so beneficial a thing as life insurance.
Apparently unimportant as these manifestations are, they indicate a
widespread tendency; in the application of scriptural declarations to
matters of social economy, which has not yet ceased, though it is fast
fading away.(459)
(459) For various interdicts laid upon commerce by the Church, see Heyd,
Histoire du Commerce du Levant au Moyen-Age, Leipsic, 1886, vol. ii,
passim. For the injury done to commerce by prohibition of intercourse
with the infidel, see Lindsay, History of Merchant Shipping, London,
1874, vol. ii. For superstitions regarding the introduction of the
potato in Russia, and the name "devil's root" given it, see Hellwald,
Culturgeschichte, vol. ii, p. 476; also Haxthausen, La Russie. For
opposition to winnowing machines, see Burton, History of Scotland, vol.
viii, p. 511; also Lecky, Eighteenth Century, vol. ii, p. 83; also Mause
Headrigg's views in Scott's Old Mortality, chap. vii. For the case of a
person debarred from the communion for "raising the devil's wind" with
a winnowing machine, see Works of Sir J. Y. Simpson, vol. ii. Those
doubting the authority or motives of Simpson may be reminded that he
was to the day of his death one of the strictest adherants to Scotch
orthodoxy. As to the curate of Rotherhithe, see Journal of Sir I. Brunel
for May 20, 1827, in Life of I. K. Brunel, p. 30. As to the conclusions
drawn from the numbering of Israel, see Michaelis, Commentaries on the
Laws of Moses, 1874, vol. ii, p. 3. The author of this work himself
witnessed the reluctance of a very conscientious man to answer the
questions of a census marshal, Mr. Lewis Hawley, of Syracuse, New York;
and this reluctance was based upon the reasons assigned in II Samuel
xxiv, 1, and I Chronicles xxi,1, for the numbering of the children of
Israel.
Worthy of especial study, too, would be the evolution of the modern
methods of raising and bettering the condition of the poor,--the
evolution, especially, of the idea that men are to be helped to help
themselves, in opposition to the old theories of indiscriminate giving,
which, taking root in some of the most beautiful utterances of our
sacred books, grew in the warm atmosphere of medieval devotion into
great systems for the pauperizing of the labouring classes. Here, too,
scientific modes of thought in social science have given a new and
nobler fruitage to the whole growth of Christian benevolence.(460)
(460) Among the vast number of authorities regarding the evolution of
better methods in dealing with pauperism, I would call attention to
a work which is especially suggestive--Behrends, Christianity and
Socialism, New York, 1886.
CHAPTER XX. FROM THE DIVINE ORACLES TO THE HIGHER CRITICISM.
I. THE OLDER INTERPRETATION.
The great sacred books of the world are the most precious of human
possessions. They embody the deepest searchings into the most vital
problems of humanity in all its stages: the naive guesses of the world's
childhood, the opening conceptions of its youth, the more fully rounded
beliefs of its maturity.
These books, no matter how unhistorical in parts and at times,
are profoundly true. They mirror the evolution of man's loftiest
aspirations, hopes, loves, consolations, and enthusiasms; his hates and
fears; his views of his origin and destiny; his theories of his rights
and duties; and these not merely in their lights but in their shadows.
Therefore it is that they contain the germs of truths most necessary in
the evolution of humanity, and give to these germs the environment and
sustenance which best insure their growth and strength.
With wide differences in origin and character, this sacred literature
has been developed and has exercised its influence in obedience to
certain general laws. First of these in time, if not in importance, is
that which governs its origin: in all civilizations we find that the
Divine Spirit working in the mind of man shapes his sacred books first
of all out of the chaos of myth and legend; and of these books, when
life is thus breathed into them, the fittest survive.
So broad and dense is this atmosphere of myth and legend enveloping
them that it lingers about them after they have been brought forth
full-orbed; and, sometimes, from it are even produced secondary mythical
and legendary concretions--satellites about these greater orbs of early
thought. Of these secondary growths one may be mentioned as showing how
rich in myth-making material was the atmosphere which enveloped our own
earlier sacred literature.
In the third century before Christ there began to be elaborated among
the Jewish scholars of Alexandria, then the great centre of human
thought, a Greek translation of the main books constituting the Old
Testament. Nothing could be more natural at that place and time than
such a translation; yet the growth of explanatory myth and legend around
it was none the less luxuriant. There was indeed a twofold growth. Among
the Jews favourable to the new version a legend rose which justified it.
This legend in its first stage was to the effect that the Ptolemy then
on the Egyptian throne had, at the request of his chief librarian, sent
to Jerusalem for translators; that the Jewish high priest Eleazar had
sent to the king a most precious copy of the Scriptures from the temple
at Jerusalem, and six most venerable, devout, and learned scholars from
each of the twelve tribes of Israel; that the number of translators thus
corresponded with the mysterious seventy-two appellations of God;
and that the combined efforts of these seventy-two men produced a
marvellously perfect translation.
But in that atmosphere of myth and marvel the legend continued to grow,
and soon we have it blooming forth yet more gorgeously in the statement
that King Ptolemy ordered each of the seventy-two to make by himself
a full translation of the entire Old Testament, and shut up each
translator in a separate cell on the island of Pharos, secluding him
there until the work was done; that the work of each was completed in
exactly seventy-two days; and that when, at the end of the seventy-two
days, the seventy-two translations were compared, each was found exactly
like all the others. This showed clearly Jehovah's APPROVAL.
But out of all this myth and legend there was also evolved an account of
a very different sort. The Jews who remained faithful to the traditions
of their race regarded this Greek version as a profanation, and
therefore there grew up the legend that on the completion of the work
there was darkness over the whole earth during three days. This showed
clearly Jehovah's DISAPPROVAL.
These well-known legends, which arose within what--as compared with any
previous time--was an exceedingly enlightened period, and which were
steadfastly believed by a vast multitude of Jews and Christians for
ages, are but single examples among scores which show how inevitably
such traditions regarding sacred books are developed in the earlier
stages of civilization, when men explain everything by miracle and
nothing by law.(461)
(461) For the legend regarding the Septaguint, especially as developed
by the letters of Pseudo-Aristeas, and for quaint citations from the
fathers regarding it, see The History of the Seventy-two Interpretors,
from the Greek of Aristeas, translated by Mr. Lewis, London, 1715; also
Clement of Alexandria, in the Ante-Nicene Christian Library, Edinburgh,
1867, p. 448. For interesting summaries showing the growth of the
story, see Drummond, Philo Judaeus and the Growth of the Alexandrian
Philosophy, London, 1888, vol. i, pp. 231 et seq.; also Renan, Histoire
du Peuple Israel, vol. iv, chap. iv; also, for Philo Judaeus's part in
developing the legend, see Rev. Dr. Sanday's Bampton Lectures for 1893,
on Inspiration, pp. 86, 87.
As the second of these laws governing the evolution of sacred literature
may be mentioned that which we have constantly seen so effective in the
growth of theological ideas--that to which Comte gave the name of the
Law of Wills and Causes. Obedient to this, man attributes to the Supreme
Being a physical, intellectual, and moral structure like his own; hence
it is that the votary of each of the great world religions ascribes to
its sacred books what he considers absolute perfection: he imagines them
to be what he himself would give the world, were he himself infinitely
good, wise, and powerful.
A very simple analogy might indeed show him that even a literature
emanating from an all-wise, beneficent, and powerful author might not
seem perfect when judged by a human standard; for he has only to look
about him in the world to find that the work which he attributes to an
all-wise, all-beneficent, and all-powerful Creator is by no means free
from evil and wrong.
But this analogy long escapes him, and the exponent of each great
religion proves to his own satisfaction, and to the edification of his
fellows, that their own sacred literature is absolutely accurate in
statement, infinitely profound in meaning, and miraculously perfect in
form. From these premises also he arrives at the conclusion that his own
sacred literature is unique; that no other sacred book can have emanated
from a divine source; and that all others claiming to be sacred are
impostures.
Still another law governing the evolution of sacred literature in every
great world religion is, that when the books which compose it are once
selected and grouped they come to be regarded as a final creation from
which nothing can be taken away, and of which even error in form, if
sanctioned by tradition, may not be changed.
The working of this law has recently been seen on a large scale.
A few years since, a body of chosen scholars, universally acknowledged
to be the most fit for the work, undertook, at the call of
English-speaking Christendom, to revise the authorized English version
of the Bible.
Beautiful as was that old version, there was abundant reason for a
revision. The progress of biblical scholarship had revealed multitudes
of imperfections and not a few gross errors in the work of the early
translators, and these, if uncorrected, were sure to bring the sacred
volume into discredit.
Nothing could be more reverent than the spirit of the revisers, and the
nineteenth century has known few historical events of more significant
and touching beauty than the participation in the holy communion by all
these scholars--prelates, presbyters, ministers, and laymen of churches
most widely differing in belief and observance--kneeling side by side at
the little altar in Westminster Abbey.
Nor could any work have been more conservative and cautious than
theirs; as far as possible they preserved the old matter and form with
scrupulous care.
Yet their work was no sooner done than it was bitterly attacked and
widely condemned; to this day it is largely regarded with dislike.
In Great Britain, in America, in Australia, the old version, with its
glaring misconceptions, mistranslations, and interpolations, is still
read in preference to the new; the great body of English-speaking
Christians clearly preferring the accustomed form of words given by the
seventeenth-century translators, rather than a nearer approach to the
exact teaching of the Holy Ghost.
Still another law is, that when once a group of sacred books has
been evolved--even though the group really be a great library of most
dissimilar works, ranging in matter from the hundredth Psalm to the
Song of Songs, and in manner from the sublimity of Isaiah to the offhand
story-telling of Jonah--all come to be thought one inseparable mass
of interpenetrating parts; every statement in each fitting exactly and
miraculously into each statement in every other; and each and every one,
and all together, literally true to fact, and at the same time full of
hidden meanings.