The simple story of the book of Ruth abounds in problems for which no final solution can ever be found, since the materials for their solution are denied us. On this village scene, so different in character from most of the scenes of those ungentle times, the curtain is half lifted. But only half. Naomi returns from her sojourn abroad, bringing her daughter-in-law with her, and Ruth goes out to glean in the harvest-field. Then unexpectedly we find Naomi possessed of land, and we are left to guess how it came into her possession, and what had happened to it during the years of her sojourn in Moab. We are not told the relationship of Boaz to Elimelech, or the relationship of the nearer kinsman; nor are we told why the hand of Ruth went with the property. That the story of Ruth's marriage must be linked with the question of levirate marriage is generally agreed, though this is clearly not strictly a case of levirate marriage, since Boaz is not a brother-in-law or levir. There are not wanting, indeed, those who draw a much sharper distinction between Ruth's marriage and levirate marriage, but to this we must return. Of levirate marriage in ancient Israel we know very little, and while the later scholasticism of the Talmud may preserve, some ancient traditions, it cannot be implicitly trusted to throw light on customs which were already obsolete when the book of Ruth was written, needing to be explained to the reader as customs that formerly held in Israel.

Toward the end of the fourth book of his indispensable Church History Eusebius remarked:

At this time there flourished in the church Hegesippus, whom we know from former narratives, and Dionysius, bishop of the Corinthians, and Pinytus, another bishop of the Cretans, and in addition to them Philip and Apolinarius and Melito and Musanus and Modestus and, above all, Irenaeus, and their correct opinions on the sound faith of the apostolic tradition have come down to us in writing.

Professor H. J. Rose's thoughtful and suggestive article, “Mythology and Theology in Aeschylus,” has probably led many students of Aeschylus to reread his tragedies with an eye on the specific problems to which Rose directs our attention and also to rethink such impressions and views concerning Aeschylus' religious outlook as they may previously have formed. Professor Rose skillfully illustrates the difference between mythology and theology by contrasting the praise of Zeus in the first great chorus of Agamemnon with the references to Cassandra's experience which we find in a later part of the same play. It is probably true that there are in Aeschylus' work masses of traditional mythology that have not been reforged by his own creative imagination, not become organically assimilated to his own religion, but these are few and far between. On the whole, mythology provides the material which his vigorous and intense thought hammers into shape — into a new mythos which shows the gods acting as Aeschylus' own religious — or theological — convictions demand that they should act. In the larger part of his paper Professor Rose unless I have missed some points, is less anxious to separate the areas of mythology and theology by a clearly drawn boundary line, and to me at least this restraint seems very wise; for if one thinks too rigidly in the terms of these two concepts one runs a risk of cutting through the live tissue and of tearing asunder what has become intimately blended in the poet's own religion.

Tannaite rabbis were accustomed to summarize succinctly the 611 or 613 commandments of the Law in from one to eleven general precepts; but these summaries were merely private halakoth. Until the second century A.D. there were read in the synagogue service the Ten Words which God himself spoke directly to his people, without the mediation of Moses. A Hebrew papyrus from about 200 B.C. includes the Decalogue with the Shema. And Philo goes so far as to declare that “the Ten Words are summaries of the special laws which are recorded in the sacred books.”

The three books to Autolycus of Theophilus of Antioch enjoyed a considerable measure of popularity among later Christian writers. His work was used not only by Greek but also by Latin writers. Eusebius found it in one of the libraries he used, probably at Caesarea; it was also employed by Methodius, Epiphanius, Procopius of Gaza, and John of Damascus. Novatian, Lactantius and Jerome certainly knew his writings; probably Minucius Felix should be added to the list. Three manuscripts of the Ad Autolycum survive; two are copies (one incomplete) of a third, an eleventh or twelfth-century manuscript now in Venice.

I should like to suggest that the rather innocent petition, “ut mittas spiritum tuum sanctum in oblationem,” in the Anaphora of Hippolytus, is not a later interpolation.

In his valuable edition of the Apostolic Tradition, Dom Gregory Dix has argued that the difficulties of the Latin text are satisfactorily solved by deleting this petition. Much of his case rests on the fact that the Testamentum Domini omits the crucial clause; and it is in the light of this document that he attempts to reconstruct what Hippolytus wrote.

The outstanding importance of allegorical interpretation to the medieval scholar engaged on interpreting the Scriptures is well known. The method, which had originated in the East and was older than Christianity, became well established in the West during the Patristic age; in its application there was a good deal of variety. Ambrosiaster in commenting on the Pauline epistles combined orthodoxy with an unswerving adherence to the historical sense. Tyconius, on the other hand, laid down no less than seven rules whereby to interpret the prophecies in the Old Testament. Augustine went further in finding allegorical meaning in passages of Holy Writ than Jerome, who always maintained a certain balance in expounding the literal and the spiritual sense. The latter is more pronounced in his earlier commentaries when he was still consciously under the influence of Origen. In his later works allegorical interpretation becomes noticeably less; but it is not wholly absent even from his unfinished commentary on Jeremiah. To Gregory the Great the sensus spiritalis and particularly the sensus moralis were of such paramount significance as almost to oust the literal meaning. His influence on Bede and through Bede, as well as directly, on later expounders of the Bible was enormous.

Precisely a hundred years ago Preller called attention to a curious passage in the Confession of St. Cyprian describing certain Greek mysteries and printed the text adding a few brief notes. This Cyprian was a famous magician who was converted to Christianity, the prototype of Dr. Faust, and is often confused with his namesake, the bishop of Carthage. His legend became very popular, there are Greek, Latin, Syriac, Coptic, and Arabic versions, and it has been much discussed. The Confession, so called because in it Cyprian speaks in his own words, was originally independent and later, but before Eudocia's metaphrasis, was inserted between the first book, the Conversion, and the third book, the Martyrdom, of the Greek version. The Empress Eudocia who married Theodosius II in A.D. 421 put the legend into verse, presumably in her old age; she included the Confession, which also was known to Gregory Nazianzen who in A.D. 379 delivered a sermon on St. Cyprian.4 This is valuable because it determines the time in which the Confession was composed, somewhat before A.D. 379. Thus it is roughly contemporary with the Neoplatonic circle of the Emperor Julian and was written at a time when paganism was still a living reality, a fact which adds to the importance of the passage.

A generation ago the study of Russian church history was considered a highly specialized field. Outside Slavic lands little attention was paid to it and in Heussi's great compendium of church history the sections on Russia occupy hardly more than a page. Similarities and differences between Russian and Roman or Anglican theology interested enthusiasts for the restoration of unity between Eastern and Western Christianity and this led in some instances to serious historical study. The names of Palmer, Neale, Stanley and Fortescue in England, of Palmieri in Italy and d'Herbigny in France, not to mention other scholars associated with the excellent publications of the Pontifical Institute of Oriental Studies, are familiar in this connection. The Ecumenical Movement after 1918 effected a wider and better understanding of the Russian Church especially in England and America. No general and popular interest, however, was stimulated or sustained.

The attitude of the Society of Friends to the Bible is a chapter of Quaker history that has yet to be written. Among biographical features it would include the names of several Quaker scholars — including Robert Barclay (1648–1690), the apologist, Anthony Purver (1702–1777), who singlehanded made a complete translation of the Bible, S. P. Tregelles (1813–1875), the textual critic, though he joined later other denominations, Thomas Chase (1827—1892), President of Haverford College and a member of the American Bible Revision Committee, and, not the least, the versatile and venerable Rendel Harris (1852–1941).

It seems agreed that κερδαίνω in the sense of ‘to win over an unbeliever to one's faith’ (I Cor. 9.19–22, I Pet. 3.1) or ‘to win back a sinner to the way of life required by his and your faith’ (Matt. 18.15) is an echter terminus technicus der Missions-sprache; by which is meant, apparently, that there is no precedent for this sense of the word in either Hellenistic or Rabbinic language. I wish to suggest that this view is not correct; and that the use of κερδαίνω in the passages in question, while conceivably reflecting a specifically Christian trend, is in the main determined by the Rabbinic vocabulary.

Thanks to the considerable surviving corpus of Old-Norse literature much is known about Old North-Germanic religious practices and beliefs; by comparison, our knowledge of corresponding matters in the West-Germanic area is meager. For England, historically and sociologically an offshoot of, and by the time of the earliest written records long separated from, the north-west German homeland, our best source of information is a rather miscellaneous collection of charms. Next probably come the epic poem Béowulf and the historian Bede, who especially in his Historia ecclesiastica passim furnishes some additional information. Otherwise one is dependent upon scattered materials, ranging from single words to such cult objects as the cenotaph ship excavated in 1939 at Sutton Hoo in Norfolk. In the face of this relative paucity of knowledge any little additional information may be welcome.

In Armand Delatte, Anecdota Atheniensia (Bibliothèque de la Faculté de Philosophie et Lettres de l'Université de Liége, Fasc. xxxvi), Paris 1927, pp. 313–321, is found a short treatise on various Christian heresies, ending with a creed. The text is taken from a manuscript of the fifteenth century: Athens, Bibliothèque du Sénat. No. 33, ff. 240–244. Delatte remarks, “Le texte présente naturellement de nombreuses analogies avec les ouvrages bien connus sur les hérésies et particulièrement avec certains chapitres de la Panoplie dogmatique d'Euthymios Zygabenos (Patr. gr. t. 130).”

“To enter upon a Controversy in Things of Religion, without due Consideration and weighty Cause for it, is doubtless sinful. … How much Cause there is at this Time to attempt a Vindication of the Doctrines and Practices of our holy Religion, and oppose Error and Disorder, may be manifest by duly attending to the following Treatise: and as to my entering upon this Attempt, I think I may say, it was not hasty and without Consideration. I had early Knowledge of the rising of the Cloud which has covered our Heavens and darkened our Air.” So, in the year 1784, the Reverend Jonathan Scott of Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, stated the motives which led him to write, A Brief View of the Religious Tenets and Sentiments Lately Published and Spread in the Province of Nova Scotia, which are contained in a Book, entitled, “Two Mites on Some of the most important and much disputed Points of Divinity, etc.,” and in a “Sermon Preached at Liverpool, Nov. 19, 1782,” and in a Pamphlet, entitled, “The Antitraditionist,” All being Publications of Mr. Henry Alline, with some Brief Reflections and Observations, also a View of the Ordination of the Author of these Books, together with a Discourse on External Order. Such a formidable title in itself offers an outline of an almost forgotten chapter in the history of Canadian thought and literature.

Man poses for himself his most tantalizing problems. He seeks to discover what he is, to foresee whither he goes, and to find what limits are imposed on his progress. He ponders his connections with the realm of matter, and seeks to locate himself within a larger sphere of an all-inclusive Reality. As a citizen of the world of space and time, man feels an essential homelessness, and reaches out toward a possible realm in which those aspirations which are unfulfilled in his present experience may find fulfilment. He persists in looking beyond himself as an individual, and beyond the social group of which he is a part. In so doing he is confronted with a tension between the world of possibility which he intuits and his own present situation.

A note of mine written under war conditions may now be supplemented from literature to which I recently had access. I had proved, with the help of a Greek coin of Phalanna in Thessaly which is preserved in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, that the Zeus of the Thessalian Peloria had the name Peloris, not Pelorios. The latter is only the reading of the Epitome of Athenaeus against the best Athenaeus MS, the Codex Marcianus 447. I learned now that Professor Paul Maas had already demonstrated most plausibly in 1935 and 1936 that the so-called Athenaeus-Epitome is nothing more than an abbreviated revision, a metagraphe, of a MS of the type of Codex Marcianus 447. It is therefore without value here for reconstituting Athenaeus' text. We now have a primary document that decisively supports Professor Maas' thesis, and it is a rare occasion in textual criticism that the decisive primary document is a coin. Professor Maas' suggestion however that Πɛλώρι, which occurs in Cod. Marc. 447 has the nominative Πέλωρ, can now be slightly corrected by the evidence of our coin. It can be said with certainty that the nominative is in fact Peloris.