dealing with this topic. Paul, he would have us believe, was not essentially altered. "Ardent men change, but are not transformed." All that he did, was to alter the direction of his fanaticism: it was directed against another object. How any sober-minded critic can read the thirteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, where the apostle's fervor in the depict ing of love lifts his style to a rhythmical flow, and still say that it is the same man who “made havoc” of the church, and "breathed out threatenings and slaughter," it is hard to see. That the apostle's native talents and dispositions did not forsake him when a new spirit entered into his heart, is, of course, true. Along with this moral and spiritual renewal, and as a part of it, was a conviction of personal unworthiness and condemnation. Righteousness-a right or justified position before God- he saw to be impossible under the law-method. The law went too deep: his heart and will were too far at variance with its exactions. Thus he saw that the Old-Testament system was only preparatory to the gospel of free forgiveness. Baur is right in saying that the perception by Paul that the death of Jesus, which was the stumbling-block to such as Paul in the way of believing in him as the Christ, no longer stood in his way when he saw that death was to Jesus the gateway to an exalted life and to a spiritual reign. It is also true, that, with this new view of the death of Jesus and of his present heavenly life and reign, the carnal conception of God's kingdom, with all Judaizing theories and prejudices, vanished. Christianity was seen to be equally for all. "There is no difference between the Jew and the Greek."1

But

1 This topic I have considered in the Essays on the Supernatural Origin of Christianity, p. 466 seq.

how did Paul arrive at this radically altered view of the death of Jesus? How did he come to look on him as having passed into the heavens to reign there? How was the prejudice against the idea of a dying Messiah, which had possessed his whole being, removed? This result was accomplished by the revelation to him of Jesus in this heavenly exaltation. Thus the turning-point was the event on the road to Damascus, when, according to his immovable conviction, he saw Christ. On this miracle, therefore, the conversion of Paul from a fanatical Jew to an ardent and life-long apostle of the faith which he had persecuted, hinged. Upon this event, all that was noble in his career, all that was beneficent in his work as the principal founder of Christianity in Europe, all that has flowed from his writings and life for the enlightenment of human souls and the uplifting of society, depends. Was this event a miserable mistake on his part, due to a thunder-clap, a sunstroke, or sore eyes? No one who believes in God will be satisfied with such a solution.

CHAPTER XII.

THE ARGUMENT FOR CHRISTIANITY FROM PROPHECY, WITH COMMENTS ON THE THEORY OF KUENEN.

It appears to be thought by many at present, that the argument for Christian revelation from prophecy is of little weight. In treatises on Christian evidences, it has fallen into the background, or has disappeared altogether. By some it would seem to be considered an objection, rather than a support, to the Christian cause. This impression, which has arisen in part from wrong methods of interpretation that were formerly in vogue, has no real foundation. On the contrary, prophecy, looked at in the light of a more scientific exegesis and a larger conception of the nature of prophetic inspiration, furnishes a striking and powerful argument for revelation.

One thing which modern theologians have learned respecting Hebrew prophecy is, that prediction was not the exclusive, or even the principal, constituent in the prophet's function. The prophets were raised up to instruct, rebuke, warn, and comfort the Israel of their own day. They dealt with the exigencies and obligations of the hour. They were the spokesmen of God, speaking to the people by his commission, and through his Spirit inspiring them. Prediction was involved, both as to the near and the distant future. But, as we see from the case of the prophets of the New Testament

church (1 Cor. xiv. 24, 31), foretelling was not the essential thing. The prophet was an inspired preacher.

Another change in the modern view of prophecy is in the perception of the limitations to which the prophets were subject, as to the extent and the form cf their vaticinations. Allegorical interpretation, in the form, for example, which ascribed to the language of the prophets a double or multiple sense of which they were conscious, or in the form which laid into their words a meaning at variance with their natural import, is now set aside. There is a broader view taken of the matter. The distinction between the inmost idea, the underlying truth, and the form in which it is conceived, or the imagery under which it is beheld, by the seer, is recognized. The central conception of the organic relation of the religion of the Old Testament to that of the New, the first being rudimental in its whole character, and thus in its very nature predictive, -just as a developed organism is foreshadowed in its lower forms or stages, illuminates the whole subject. It suggests the limitations of view which must of necessity inhere in prophetical anticipation, even though it be supernatural in its origin.

Prediction, in order to prove revelation, must be shown to be truly pre-diction,—that is, to have been uttered prior to the event to which it relates. On this point, as regards the Old-Testament prophecies, there is no room for reasonable doubt.1 The predictions must be shown not to spring from native sagacity or wise forecast, based on natural causes known to be in operation. And they must be verified to an extent not to be ex

1 As the date of the Book of Daniel is a controverted point, we leave out of the account its predictions as far as they relate to events prior to the Maccabean age.

plained either by the supposition of accidental coinci dence, or by supposing the effect to be wrought by the influence of the predictions themselves.

If we glance at the prophets as they present themselves to our view on the pages of the Old Testament, we shall be helped to judge whether their predictions can endure the test of these criteria.1

A man was not made a prophet by virtue of any natural talents that he possessed, or any acquired knowl. edge. He might, to be sure, be a great poet; but this of itself did not make him a prophet. The prophets, it is true, were not cut off from a living relation to their times. They did not appear as visitors from another planet. But what the prophet had learned, whether in "the schools of the prophets" (when such existed, and if he belonged to them), or from the study of the law, and of other prophets who preceded him, did not furnish him with the message which he delivered. day. He did not take up his office of his own will. So far from this, he is conscious of being called of God by an inward call which he can not and dare not resist. The splendid passage in which Isaiah recurs to the vision in the temple, when "the foundations of the thresholds shook," and the Voice was heard to say, "Whom shall I send?" shows the awe-inspiring character of the divine call which set the prophet apart for his work (Isa. vi.). The true prophet is conscious of being called to declare, not the results of his own inves

He was not like the rabbi or scribe of a later

1 Cf. Oehler, Theologie d. Alt. Test., vol. ii. p. 170 seq.; Bleek, Einl. in d. Alt. Test. (Wellhausen's ed.), p. 305 seq.; Schultz, Alt. Test. Theo logie, p. 187 seq.; Ewald, Prophets of the Old Test. (Engl. transl., Lond., 1875), vol. i.; Riehm, Messianic Prophecy; Oehler's Arts. (Prophetis mus Messias, Weissgung, etc.) in Herzog's Real-Encykl.

2 Oehler, p. 170.