‘(3) Pourquoi donc, ô père, Dieu n'a-t-il pas donné l'intellect à tous? — C'est qu'il a voulu, mon enfant, que l'intellect fût placé entre les âmes comme un prix qu'elles eussent à gagner. — (4) Et où l'a-t-il donc placé?—Il en a rempli un grand cratère qu'il a envoyé sur terre, et il a appointé un héraut avec ordre de proclamer aux coeurs des hommes ces paroles: “Plonge-toi, toi qui le peux, dans ce cratère que voici, toi qui crois que tu remonteras vers Celui qui a envoyé sur terre le cratère, toi qui sais pour quelle fin tu es venue à l'être.” Tous ceux donc qui ont prêté attention à la proclamation et qui ont été baptisés (de ce baptême) de l'intellect, ceux-là ont eu part à la connaissance et ils sont devenus hommes parfaits, parce qu'ils ont reçu l'intellect. Ceux au contraire qui ont failli à écouter la proclamation, ceux-ci sont demeurés les logiques, parce qu'ils n'ont pas acquis en surplus l'intellect et qu'ils ignorent en vue de quoi ils sont venus à l'être et qui sont les auteurs de leur création.’

The word religion, as commonly used, refers to complex institutions which are made up of many different elements. I am not so much interested in the complex institutions which we call religions as I am in isolating from them the element which causes us to call them religions. I am interested in the religious attitude of mind rather than in religion as an institution. Similarly, in regard to science, I am interested in the scientific attitude of mind rather than in applied science. To most people the word science means applied science rather than the scientific attitude of mind.

Professor C. H. Dodd in The Apostolic Preaching and its Development has drawn attention to the importance of the “Kerygma” as a more or less formal statement of the Christian Gospel, lying behind the earliest Christian documents; it determines the structure of Mark, the speeches in Acts and the form of the Creeds. This conventional form seems to be derived from Judaism. A statement of the mighty works of God in creation and the history of mankind, more especially in the deliverance of his people from Egypt, is a recurring feature of Jewish literature in the post-exilic era; perhaps the most notable example is Ps. 136; cf. Nehemiah 9. 6 ff., Is. 63. 7 ff. Such a recital of the mighty works of God in delivering His people was obviously necessary if the religion of Israel was to be changed from a primitive Semitic tribal cult into a system of monotheism, centred on the national deity, identified with the one God of Heaven; it was specially necessary to find an aetiological myth for the principal festival of the Passover. The emphasis on this deliverance reflects the process by which vague legends of a migration from Egypt have been conflated with the return from Babylon to form the biblical picture of the Exodus.

The religions of ancient Western Asia, though presenting in detail a number of differences, agree in their conception of the relation between man and god. This is the same relation that exists between the servant and his master, or between the subject and his king or prince. According to the religions of ancient Western Asia, man had to serve his god, his king and his master, and this service constituted his religion. In fact, man was created solely to serve god, and all his life therefore was but a series of religious acts in the service of his god. The religious texts of all palaeo-oriental nations afford us ample proofs that this was the fundamental principle of their religion. I refer to Semitic nations, that is, to those who spoke Semitic languages, or to peoples of other tongues: the Sumerians or the Phoenicians, the Hittites or the South Arabs. All these saw divinity in masters, princes, or kings who had man as subject or servant.

The recent publication of the more important medieval handbooks of penance in an English version raises afresh the often disputed question, whether the Venerable Bede was the author or compiler of a penitential. What may be called the positive evidence that he did so is slight. In, or soon after, 906 Regino of Prüm composed his treatise, De synodalibus causis et disciplinis ecclesiasticis, in which he refers by name to the penitentials of Bishop Theodore and of the Venerable Bede. In the second place, there still survive several nearly related penitentials which are ascribed to Bede in the extant manuscripts. However, this ascription to Bede carries little weight, if unsupported by other evidence. For several centuries after his death his authority as a theologian ranked next to that of the four Latin doctors and the list of works going under his name, but not by him, is long. Nor is Regino's testimony unimpeachable, for his acquaintance with Bede's writings was not extensive. He does not seem to have used the theological works when composing the De synodalibus causis; and, though he did, when compiling his Chronica, make use of the chronicle inserted by Bede in the De temporum ratione, he did not consult the Ecclesiastical History. Had he been familiar with that basic work on British history, he would assuredly have drawn on it, as so many others did. He would also have found in 5, 24 Bede's own list of his writings. Thus we may suspect that Regino attributed a penitential to Bede merely on the strength of a rubric in a manuscript, and we shall do well to query the accuracy of his statement, unless corroborated by other proofs.

For many years it has been the accepted belief that ‘from the fourth century of our era’ the Book of I Enoch ‘gradually passed out of circulation, and became lost to the knowledge of Western Christendom’ until 1773, ‘when an Ethiopic version of the work was found in Abyssinia by Bruce.’ It is doubtless true that I Enoch was not in any exact sense known to Europe until the return of Bruce, but the belief that he was the first to ‘discover’ the book or its Ethiopic translation appears erroneous. This discovery had been made approximately two centuries before 1773. In his widely read Relation of a Journey George Sandys informs the reader that in a mountain fastness the

Abissens or A Ethiopians…have…the goodliest Librarie of the world: where many bookes that are lost with vs, or but meerely mentioned, are kept entire: as hath bin lately reported by a Spanish Frier that hath seene them, if we may beleeue him: amongst which, they say, are the oracles of Enoch (with other mysteries that escaped the Flood, ingrauen by him vpon pillars) and written in their vulgar language.

In a recent article, F. Pfister has put forth a theory which appears to me so interesting a mixture of fruitful suggestion and of error as to repay a detailed and critical examination. It is briefly that ‘der Verfasser des Urevangeliums, das in verschiedenen Fassungen den drei Synoptikern bekannt war, eine kynisch-stoische Heraklesbiographie vor Augen hatte, und in enger Abhängigkeit von dieser das Leben Jesu geetaltete.’ This proposition he endeavors to support by a series of comparisons between details of the life of Jesus as given in the Synoptic Gospels and descriptions of the corresponding events in the life of Herakles, especially as told by our later authorities, such as Diodorus Siculus and the so-called Apollodoros.

Among the Greek documents concerning Jews the tale told by Josephus in the name of Clearchus of Soli deserves special attention. This account, in which Clearchus describes the meeting of his master Aristotle with a Jewish sage, contains not only the earliest information about personal acquaintance between a Greek and a Jew, but also raises general interest by the personality of the Western representative. Josephus has omitted to report upon the subject of their discourse, although it would have been worth while to relate the words exchanged between the “maestro di color' che sanno” and one of the ἐκλεκτοὶ πιστοὶ `Eβραῖοι.

This paper is not, as the title would seem to imply, a discussion of Butler's famous novel, nor does it attempt to answer the question where Butler found the phrase. It may well be doubted indeed whether the novelist himself could have given us an exact reference to his source, since the phrase, as a euphemism for the dread word “death,” is one of those winged utterances which come into one's mind without a definite perception whence or how or when. English literature at least seems to furnish comparatively few examples of its use and the writers who do employ it, if we except Dickens who, in one of the stories in Sketches by Boz, makes Mr. Parsons remark that his wife's father “allowed us something to live on till he went the way of all flesh,” are not such as are commonly read. Moreover it is clear that the phrase was generally familiar before the date of its earliest appearance in our literature. This was in the year 1607, in the play Westward Ho, by Dekker and Webster, II, 2, where one of the characters remarks, “I saw him even now going the way of all flesh, that's to say, towards the kitchen.” This remark would have been without point, had the phrase not been in common use with a more serious connotation.

For obvious reasons, a study of the organization of the Church in Brandenburg-Prussia must begin with the formal acceptance of the Reformation in those territories. The Reformation was not accepted officially in Brandenburg until after the death of Joachim I in 1535. His son and heir, Margrave and Elector Joachim II joined the Protestant ranks in 1539. Prior to this time the Church in Brandenburg had been an integral part of the Catholic Church of Rome; and local church organization and the supervision thereof had been in the hands of the episcopal consistory. This latter body attended to all the business of reviewing and supervising the administration of its diocese, of issuing the reports of the bishop or administrator, of appointment of apostolic visitors, and of the government, temporal administration, and discipline of seminaries.

The writer's interest has been much aroused by two important monographs appearing in this Review: (I) ‘A Vision of Mandulis Aion,’ by A. D. Nock (vol. xxviii, 53–104); and (II) ‘The Gild of Zeus Hypsistos,’ by C. Roberts, T. C. Skeat, A. D. Nock (xxix, 39–88). The evidence is of necessity predominantly drawn from Graeco-Roman sources, while the Oriental background or parallels figure less because of the lack of material.

The term “Armageddon,” familiar in English literature, primarily designates the scene of the last great battle at the end of the present age, in which the powers of evil, represented by hostile nations warring against the Kingdom of God, are to be overthrown and destroyed. The name is derived from a passage in the Book of Revelation, 16:16, in which a standing feature of Hebrew eschatology is given a setting characteristic of the apocalypse.

In Arabic philosophic texts, and following them also in Hebrew philosophic texts, restatements of Aristotle's distinction between ‘equivocal’ (ὁμώνυμα, mushtarakah) and ‘univocal’ (συνώνυμα, mutawāṭi'ah), terms usually contain another type of term which stands midway between these two. It is called ‘ambiguous’ or ‘amphibolous’ (mushakkikah) terms. So far no adequate explanation as to the origin of this type of term has been advanced. In the latest and most important study of the subject, the problem of its origin has been left unsolved. To solve this problem as well as to account for the various treatments of ambiguous terms in Arabic philosophy, including Alfarabi, Avicenna, Algazali, Averroes and Maimonides, is the purpose of this paper.

The researches of the last three decades have conclusively shown that toward the end of the third century B.C. a profound change occurred in the spiritual life of the Jews. Literary prophecy, which had been declining since the time of Haggai and Zechariah (ca. 518 B.C.), now definitely came to an end. The noble tradition had been in its death throes for no less than three centuries. In vain did the Joels, the Obadiahs, and the Deutero-Zechariahs seek to save it from complete eclipse. Its hour had passed. In the meantime, new forces were arising to contend for its place in the spiritual leadership of Israel.

As the second canto of the Purgatorio opens, Dante's attention is attracted by a light which, swiftly approaching, discloses the form of wings.

‘Fa, fa che le ginnochia cali:

ecco l' angel di Dio: piega le mani:

omai vedrai di si fatti officiali.

Vedi che sdegna li argomenti umani,

sì che remo non vuol nè altro velo

che l' ali sue tra liti sì lontani.

Vedi come l' ha dritte verso il cielo,

trattando l' aere con l' etterne penne,

che non si mutan come mortal pelo.’

Even at the cost of a slight delay to the publication of the Homily on the Passion, it has seemed prudent to submit to the readers of this Review two problems arising out of Melito's language, which are not without their difficulties. If the view here taken about the first of these is open to other objections than those which the writer has anticipated, he will be grateful to any reader who will call them to his attention. As to the second, it is likely that Hebrew and patristic scholars may be able to add further illustrations. Such contributions will be most welcome.

Three dates have been suggested for the celebration of the festival of Adonis at Athens, all of which have found adherents in recent years. Deubner, relying solely on the apparent evidence of vase-paintings, as interpreted by Hauser, placed the Adonia at the beginning of autumn. The only argument in favor of so late a date, that bunches of fresh grapes appeared in representations of the κῆποι 'Aδώνιδος' was disposed of by Nock, who pointed out that grapes were also kept until the feast of Choes, Anthesterion 12.