general English equivalent could be suggested for it. But then, _in a
certain context_, “ask” would be an inadequate rendering: in another, it
would be improper: in a third, it would be simply intolerable. Of all
this, the great Scholars of 1611 showed themselves profoundly conscious.
Accordingly, when this same verb (in the middle voice) is employed to
describe how the clamorous rabble, besieging Pilate, claimed their
accustomed privilege, (viz. to have the prisoner of their choice released
unto them,) those ancient men, with a fine instinct, retain Tyndale’s
rendering “_desired_”(569) in S. Mark (xv. 8),—and his “_required_” in S.
Luke (xxiii. 23).—When, however, the humble entreaty, which Joseph of
Arimathea addressed to the same Pilate (viz. that he might be allowed to
take away the Body of JESUS), is in question, then the same Scholars
(following Tyndale and Cranmer), with the same propriety exhibit
“_begged_.”—King David, inasmuch as he only “_desired_ to find a
habitation for the GOD of Jacob,” of course may not be said to have
“_asked_” to do so; and yet S. Stephen (Acts vii. 46) does not hesitate to
employ the verb ᾐτήσατο.—So again, when they of Tyre and Sidon approached
Herod whom they had offended: they did but “_desire_” peace.(570)—S. Paul,
in like manner, addressing the Ephesians: “I _desire_ that ye faint not at
my tribulations for you.”(571)
But our Revisionists,—possessed with the single idea that αἰτεῖν means “to
_ask_” and αἰτεῖσθαι “to _ask for_,”—have proceeded mechanically to
inflict that rendering on every one of the foregoing passages. In defiance
of propriety,—of reason,—even (in David’s case) of historical
truth,(572)—they have thrust in “_asked_” everywhere. At last, however,
they are encountered by two places which absolutely refuse to submit to
such iron bondage. The terror-stricken jailer of Philippi, when _he_
“asked” for lights, must needs have done so after a truly imperious
fashion. Accordingly, the “_called for_”(573) of Tyndale and all
subsequent translators, is _pro hâc vice_ allowed by our Revisionists to
stand. And to conclude,—When S. Paul, speaking of his supplications on
behalf of the Christians at Colosse, uses this same verb (αἰτούμενοι) in a
context where “_to ask_” would be intolerable, our Revisionists render the
word “_to make request_;”(574)—though they might just as well have let
alone the rendering of _all_ their predecessors,—viz. “_to desire_.”
These are many words, but we know not how to make them fewer. Let this one
example, (only because it is the first which presented itself,) stand for
a thousand others. Apart from the grievous lack of Taste (not to say of
Scholarship) which such a method betrays,—_who_ sees not that the only
excuse which could have been invented for it has disappeared by the time
we reach the end of our investigation? If αἰτέω, αἰτοῦμαι had been
_invariably_ translated “ask,” “ask for,” it might at least have been
pretended that “the English Reader is in this way put entirely on a level
with the Greek Scholar;”—though it would have been a vain pretence, as all
must admit who understand the power of language. _Once_ make it apparent
that just in a single place, perhaps in two, the Translator found himself
forced to break through his rigid uniformity of rendering,—and _what_
remains but an uneasy suspicion that then there must have been a strain
put on the Evangelists’ meaning in a vast proportion of the other seventy
places where αἰτεῖν occurs? An unlearned reader’s confidence in his guide
vanishes; and he finds that he has had not a few deflections from the
Authorized Version thrust upon him, of which he reasonably questions alike
the taste and the necessity,—_e.g._ at S. Matth. xx. 20.
(_b_) But take a more interesting example. In S. Mark i. 18, the A. V.
has, “and straightway they _forsook_” (which the Revisionists alter into
“_left_”) “their nets.” Why? Because in verse 20, the same word ἀφέντες
will recur; and because the Revisionists propose to let the statement
(“they _left_ their father Zebedee”) stand. They “level up” accordingly;
and plume themselves on their consistency.
We venture to point out, however, that the verb ἀφιέναι is one of a large
family of verbs which,—always retaining their own essential
signification,—yet depend for their English rendering entirely on the
context in which they occur. Thus, ἀφιέναι is rightly rendered “_to
suffer_,” in S. Matth. iii. 15;—“_to leave_,” in iv. 11;—“_to let have_,”
in v. 40;—“_to forgive_,” in vi. 12, 14, 15;—“_to let_,” in vii. 4;—“_to
yield up_,” in xxvii. 50;—“_to let go_,” in S. Mark xi. 6;—“_to let
alone_,” in xiv. 6. Here then, by the admission of the Revisionists, are
eight diversities of meaning in the same word. But they make the admission
grudgingly; and, in order to render ἀφιέναι as often as possible
“_leave_,” they do violence to many a place of Scripture where some other
word would have been more appropriate. Thus “_laying aside_” might have
stood in S. Mark vii. 8. “_Suffered_” (or “let”) was preferable in S. Luke
xii. 39. And, (to return to the place from which we started,) in S. Mark
i. 18, “forsook” was better than “left.” And why? Because men “_leave_
their father,” (as the Collect for S. James’s Day bears witness); but
“_forsake_ all covetous desires” (as the Collect for S. Matthew’s Day
aptly attests). For which reason,—“And they all _forsook_ Him” was
infinitely preferable to “and they all _left_ Him, and fled,” in S. Mark
xiv. 50. We insist that a vast deal more is lost by this perpetual
disregard of the idiomatic proprieties of the English language, than is
gained by a pedantic striving after uniformity of rendering, only because
the Greek word happens to be the same.
For it is sure sometimes to happen that what seems mere licentiousness
proves on closer inspection to be unobtrusive Scholarship of the best
kind. An illustration presents itself in connection with the word just now
before us. It is found to have been our SAVIOUR’S practice to “_send
away_” the multitude whom He had been feeding or teaching, in some formal
manner,—whether with an act of solemn benediction, or words of
commendatory prayer, or both. Accordingly, on the memorable occasion when,
at the close of a long day of superhuman exertion, His bodily powers
succumbed, and the Disciples were fain to take Him “as He was” in the
ship, and at once He “fell asleep;”—on that solitary occasion, _the
Disciples_ are related to have “_sent away_ the multitudes,”—_i.e._ to
have formally dismissed them on His behalf, as they had often seen their
Master do. The word employed to designate this practice on two memorable
occasions is ἀπολύειν:(575) on the other two, ἀφιέναι.(576) This proves to
have been perfectly well understood as well by the learned authors of the
Latin Version of the N. T., as by the scholars who translated the Gospels
into the vernacular of Palestine. It has been reserved for the boasted
learning of the XIXth century to misunderstand this little circumstance
entirely. The R. V. renders S. Matth. xiii. 36,—not “Then JESUS _sent the
multitude away_” (“_dimissis turbis_” in every Latin copy,) but—“Then He
_left_ the multitudes.” Also S. Mark iv. 36,—not “And when they had _sent
away the multitude_,” (which the Latin always renders “_et dimittentes
turbam_,”) but—“And _leaving_ the multitude.” Would it be altogether
creditable, we respectfully ask, if at the end of 1800 years the Church of
England were to put forth with authority such specimens of “Revision” as
these?
(_c_) We will trouble our Readers with yet another illustration of the
principle for which we are contending.—We are soon made conscious that
there has been a fidgetty anxiety on the part of the Revisionists,
everywhere to substitute “_maid_” for “_damsel_” as the rendering of
παιδίσκη. It offends us. “A damsel named Rhoda,”(577)—and the “damsel
possessed with a spirit of divination,”(578)—might (we think) have been
let alone. But out of curiosity we look further, to see what these
gentlemen will do when they come to S. Luke xii. 45. Here, because παῖδας
has been (properly) rendered “menservants,” παιδίσκας, they (not
unreasonably) render “_maid-servants_,”—whereby _they break their rule_.
The crucial place is behind. What will they do with the Divine “Allegory”
in Galatians, (iv. 21 to 31,)—where all turns on the contrast(579) between
the παιδίσκη and the ἐλευθέρα,—the fact that Hagar was a “_bondmaid_”
whereas Sarah was a “_free woman_”? “Maid” clearly could not stand here.
“Maid-servant” would be intolerable. What is to be done? The Revisionists
adopt _a third_ variety of reading,—_thus surrendering their principle
entirely_. And what reader with a spark of taste, (we confidently ask the
question,) does not resent their substitution of “_handmaid_” for
“bondmaid” throughout these verses? _Who_ will deny that the mention of
“_bondage_” in verses 24 and 25 claims, at the hands of an intelligent
English translator, that he shall avail himself of the admirable and
helpful equivalent for παιδίσκη which, as it happens, the English language
possesses? More than that. _Who_—(except one who is himself “in
bondage—with his children”)—_who_ does not respond gratefully to the
exquisite taste and tact with which “_bondmaid_” itself has been exchanged
for “_bondwoman_” by our translators of 1611, in verses 23, 30 and 31?...
Verily, those men understood their craft! “There were giants in those
days.” As little would they submit to be bound by the new cords of the
Philistines as by their green withes. Upon occasion, they could shake
themselves free from either. And why? For the selfsame reason: viz.
because the SPIRIT of their GOD was mightily upon them.
Our contention, so far, has been but this,—that it does not by any means
follow that identical Greek words and expressions, _wherever occurring_,
are to be rendered by identical words and expressions in English. We
desire to pass on to something of more importance.
Let it not be supposed that we make light of the difficulties which our
Revisionists have had to encounter; or are wanting in generous
appreciation of the conscientious toil of many men for many years; or that
we overlook the perils of the enterprise in which they have seen fit to
adventure their reputation. If ever a severe expression escapes us, it is
because our Revisionists themselves seem to have so very imperfectly
realized the responsibility of their undertaking, and the peculiar
difficulties by which it is unavoidably beset. The truth is,—as all who
have given real thought to the subject must be aware,—the phenomena of
Language are among the most subtle and delicate imaginable: the problem of
Translation, one of the most manysided and difficult that can be named.
And if this holds universally, in how much greater a degree when the book
to be translated is THE BIBLE! Here, anything like a mechanical _levelling
up_ of terms, every attempt to impose a pre-arranged system of uniform
rendering on words,—every one of which has a history and (so to speak) _a
will_ of its own,—is inevitably destined to result in discomfiture and
disappointment. But what makes this so very serious a matter is that,
because HOLY SCRIPTURE is the Book experimented upon, the loftiest
interests that can be named become imperilled; and it will constantly
happen that what is not perhaps in itself a very serious mistake may yet
inflict irreparable injury. We subjoin an humble illustration of our
meaning—the rather, because it will afford us an opportunity for
penetrating a little deeper into the proprieties of Scriptural
Translation:—
(_d_) The place of our LORD’S Burial, which is mentioned upwards of 30
times in the Gospels, is styled in the original, μνημεῖον. This
appellation is applied to it three times by S. Matthew;—six times by S.
Mark;—eight times by S. Luke;(580)—eleven times by S. John. Only on four
occasions, in close succession, does the first Evangelist call it by
another name, viz. τάφος.(581) King James’s translators (following Tyndale
and Cranmer) decline to notice this diversity, and uniformly style it the
“_sepulchre_.” So long as it belonged to Joseph of Arimathea, they call it
a “tomb” (Matth. xxvii. 60): when once it has been appropriated by “the
LORD of Glory,” _in the same verse_ they give it a different English
appellation. But our Revisionists of 1881, as if bent on “making a fresh
departure,” _everywhere_ substitute “_tomb_” for “sepulchre” as the
rendering of μνημεῖον.
Does any one ask,—And why should they _not_? We answer, Because, in
connection with “_the Sepulchre_” of our LORD, there has grown up such an
ample literature and such a famous history, that we are no longer _able_
to sever ourselves from those environments of the problem, even if we
desired to do so. In all such cases as the present, we have to balance the
Loss against the Gain. Quite idle is it for the pedant of 1881 to insist
that τάφος and μνημεῖον are two different words. We do not dispute the
fact. (Then, if he _must_, let him represent τάφος in some other way.) It
remains true, notwithstanding, that the receptacle of our SAVIOUR’S Body
after His dissolution will have to be spoken of as “_the Holy Sepulchre_”
till the end of time; and it is altogether to be desired that its familiar
designation should be suffered to survive unmolested on the eternal page,
in consequence. There are, after all, mightier laws in the Universe than
those of grammar. In the quaint language of our Translators of 1611: “For
is the Kingdom of GOD become words or syllables? Why should we be in
bondage to them if we may be free?”... As for considerations of
etymological propriety, the nearest English equivalent for μνημεῖον (be it
remembered) is _not_ “tomb,” but “_monument_.”
(_e_) Our Revisionists seem not to be aware that 270 years of undisturbed
possession have given to certain words rights to which they could not else
have pretended, but of which it is impossible any more to dispossess them.
It savours of folly as well as of pedantry even to make the attempt.
Διδαχή occurs 30,—διδασκαλία 21 times,—in the N. T. Etymologically, both
words alike mean “_teaching_;” and are therefore indifferently rendered
“_doctrina_” in the Vulgate,(582)—for which reason, “_doctrine_”
represents both words indifferently in our A. V.(583) But the Revisers
have well-nigh extirpated “DOCTRINE” from the N. T.: (1st), By making
“_teaching_,” the rendering of διδαχή,(584)—(reserving “_doctrine_” for
διδασκαλία(585)): and (2ndly), By 6 times substituting “_teaching_” (once,
“_learning_”) for “_doctrine_,” in places where διδασκαλία occurs.(586)
This is to be lamented every way. The word cannot be spared so often. The
“_teachings_” of our LORD and of His Apostles were _the _“doctrines”_ of
Christianity_. When S. Paul speaks of “the _doctrine_ of baptisms” (Heb.
vi. 2), it is simply incomprehensible to us why “the _teaching_ of
baptisms” should be deemed a preferable expression. And if the warning
against being “carried about with every wind of _doctrine_,” may stand in
Ephes. iv. 14, why may it not be left standing in Heb. xiii. 9?
(_f_) In the same spirit, we can but wonder at the extravagant bad taste
which, at the end of 500 years, has ventured to substitute “_bowls_” for
“vials” in the Book of Revelation.(587) As a matter of fact, we venture to
point out that φιάλη no more means “_a bowl_” than “saucer” means “a cup.”
But, waiving this, we are confident that our Revisers would have shown
more wisdom if they had _let alone_ a word which, having no English
equivalent, has passed into the sacred vocabulary of the language, and has
acquired a conventional signification which will cleave to it for ever.
“_Vials of wrath_” are understood to signify the outpouring of GOD’S
wrathful visitations on mankind: whereas “bowls” really conveys no meaning
at all, except a mean and unworthy, not to say an inconveniently ambiguous
one. What must be the impression made on persons of very humble
station,—labouring-men,—when they hear of “the seven Angels that had _the
seven bowls_”? (Rev. xvii. 1.) The φιάλη,—if we must needs talk like
Antiquaries—is a circular, almost flat and very shallow vessel,—of which
the contents can be discharged in an instant. It was used in pouring out
libations. There is, at that back of it, in the centre, a hollow for the
first joint of the forefinger to rest in. _Patera_ the Latins called it.
Specimens are to be seen in abundance.
The same Revisionists have also fallen foul of the “alabaster _box_ of
ointment.”—for which they have substituted “an alabaster _cruse_ of
ointment.”(588) But what _is_ a “cruse”? Their marginal note says, “Or,
‘_a flask_:’ ” but once more, what _is_ “a flask”? Certainly, the
receptacles to which that name is now commonly applied, (_e.g._ a
powder-flask, a Florence flask, a flask of wine, &c.) bear no resemblance
whatever to the vase called ἀλάβαστρον. The probability is that the
receptacle for the precious ointment with which the sister of Lazarus
provided herself, was likest of all to a small medicine-bottle (_lecythus_
the ancients called it), made however of alabaster. Specimens of it
abound. But why not let such words alone? The same Critics have had the
good sense to leave standing “the bag,” for what was confessedly a
_box_(589) (S. John xii. 6: xiii. 29); and “your purses” for what in the
Greek is unmistakably “your _girdles_”(590) (S. Matth. x. 9). We can but
repeat that possession for _five centuries_ conveys rights which it is
always useless, and sometimes dangerous, to dispute. “Vials” will
certainly have to be put back into the Apocalypse.
(_g_) Having said so much about the proposed rendering of such unpromising
vocables as μνημεῖον—διδαχή—φιάλη, it is time to invite the Reader’s
attention to the calamitous fate which has befallen certain other words of
infinitely greater importance.
And first for Ἀγάπη—a substantive noun unknown to the heathen, even as the
sentiment which the word expresses proves to be a grace of purely
Christian growth. What else but a real calamity would be the sentence of
perpetual banishment passed by our Revisionists on “that most excellent
gift, the gift of _Charity_,” and the general substitution of “Love” in
its place? Do not these learned men perceive that “Love” is not an
equivalent term? Can they require to be told that, because of S. Paul’s
exquisite and life-like portrait of “CHARITY,” and the use which has been
made of the word in sacred literature in consequence, it has come to pass
that the word “_Charity_” connotes many ideas to which the word “Love” is
an entire stranger? that “Love,” on the contrary, has come to connote many
unworthy notions which in “_Charity_” find no place at all? And if this be
so, how can our Revisionists expect that we shall endure the loss of the
name of the very choicest of the Christian graces,—and which, if it is
nowhere to be found in Scripture, will presently come to be only
traditionally known among mankind, and will in the end cease to be a term
clearly understood? Have the Revisionists of 1881 considered how firmly
this word “_Charity_” has established itself in the phraseology of the
Church,—ancient, mediæval, modern,—as well as in our Book of Common
Prayer? how thoroughly it has vindicated for itself the right of
citizenship in the English language? how it has entered into our common
vocabulary, and become one of the best understood of “household words”? Of
what can they have been thinking when they deliberately obliterated from
the thirteenth chapter of S. Paul’s 1st Epistle to the Corinthians the
ninefold recurrence of the name of “that most excellent gift, the gift of
CHARITY”?
(_h_) With equal displeasure, but with even sadder feelings, we recognize
in the present Revision a resolute elimination of “MIRACLES” from the N.
T.—Not so, (we shall be eagerly reminded,) but only of their _Name_. True,
but the two perforce go together, as every thoughtful man knows. At all
events, the getting rid of _the Name_,—(except in the few instances which
are enumerated below,)—will in the account of millions be regarded as the
getting rid of _the thing_. And in the esteem of all, learned and
unlearned alike, the systematic obliteration of the signifying word from
the pages of that Book to which we refer exclusively for our knowledge of
the remarkable thing signified,—cannot but be looked upon as a memorable
and momentous circumstance. Some, it may be, will be chiefly struck by the
foolishness of the proceeding: for at the end of centuries of familiarity
with such a word, we are no longer _able_ to part company with it, even if
we were inclined. The term has struck root firmly in our Literature: has
established itself in the terminology of Divines: has grown into our
common speech. But further, even were it possible to get rid of the words
“Miracle” and “Miraculous,” what else but abiding inconvenience would be
the result? for we must still desire to speak about _the things_; and it
is a truism to remark that there are no other words in the language which
connote the same ideas. What therefore has been gained by substituting
“_sign_” for “_miracle_” on some 19 or 20 occasions—(“this beginning of
_his signs_ did JESUS,”—“this is again the _second sign_ that JESUS
did”)—we really fail to see.
That the word in the original is σημεῖον, and that σημεῖον means “a sign,”
we are aware. But what then? Because ἄγγελος, in strictness, means “a
messenger,”—γραφή, “a writing,”—ὑποκριτής, “an actor,”—ἐκκλησία, “an
assembly,”—εὐαγγέλιον, “good tidings,”—ἐπίσκοπος, “an
overseer,”—βαπτιστής, “one that dips,”—παράδεισος, “a garden,”—μαθητής, “a
learner,”—χἁρις, “favour:”—are we to forego the established English
equivalents for these words, and never more to hear of “grace,”
“disciple,” “Paradise,” “Baptist,” “Bishop,” “Gospel,” “Church,”
“hypocrite,” “Scripture,” “Angel”? Is it then desired to revolutionize our
sacred terminology? or at all events to sever with the Past, and to
translate the Scriptures into English on etymological principles? We are
amazed that the first proposal to resort to such a preposterous method was
not instantly scouted by a large majority of those who frequented the
Jerusalem Chamber.
The words under consideration are not only not equivalent, but they are
quite dissimilar. All “_signs_” are not “_Miracles_,”(591) though all
“_Miracles_” are undeniably “_signs_.” Would not a marginal annotation
concerning the original word, as at S. Luke xxiii. 8, have sufficed? And
_why_ was the term “_Miracle_” as the rendering of σημεῖον(592) spared
only on _that_ occasion in the Gospels; and _only_ in connection with S.
Peter’s miracle of healing the impotent man, in the Acts?(593) We ask the
question not caring for an answer. We are merely bent on submitting to our
Readers, whether,—especially in an age like the present of wide-spread
unbelief in the Miraculous,—it was a judicious proceeding in our
Revisionists almost everywhere to substitute “Sign” for “Miracle” as the
rendering of σημεῖον.
(_i_) Every bit as offensive, in its way, is a marginal note respecting
the Third Person in the Trinity, which does duty at S. Matth. i. 18: S.
Mark i. 8: S. Luke i. 15: Acts i. 2: Rom. v. 5: Heb. ii. 4. As a rule, in
short, against every fresh first mention of “the HOLY GHOST,” five lines
are punctually devoted to the remark,—“_Or_, Holy Spirit: _and so
throughout this book_.” Now, as Canon Cook very fairly puts the case,—
“Does this imply that the marginists object to the word ‘GHOST’?
If so, it must be asked, On what grounds? Certainly not as an
archaism. The word is in every Churchman’s mouth continually. For
the sake of consistency? But Dr. Vance Smith complains bitterly of
the _inconsistency_ of his colleagues in reference to this very
question,—see his _Texts and Margins_, pp. 7, 8, 45. I would not
suggest a doctrinal bias: but to prove that it had no influence, a
strong, if not unanimous, declaration on the part of the Revisers
is called for. Dr. Vance Smith alleges this notice as one of the
clearest proofs that the Revisers ought in consistency to discard
the word as ‘_a poor and almost obsolete_ equivalent for
Spirit.’ ”(594)