An example of this, too!

We borrow it from the Hindoo theology, from the songs of the Veda, which mention it repeatedly; and we choose this specimen because it is one of the oldest myths of mankind, and we find traces of it in the Greek and Latin mythologies, under the form of the labours of Hercules, as well as in the old literature of the Persians and Germans. In brief, it runs as follows:-Indra, the national god, keeps a herd of purple cows. Vritra, a wicked spirit with three heads and the body of a monster serpent, steals the cows and shuts them up in his den. Indra pursues the thief, breaks through into his abode, gives him a sound thrashing, and brings the cows back to heaven, while their milk is poured out over the earth.

The meaning of this myth can be given in a single word. It is the description of a thunderstorm. The purple cows are the clouds which hold the gentle rain. Indra is the god of day, and when the wicked spirit tries to carry away the clouds and so parch the earth with drought, he compels him to release them. But in giving this account of the meaning of the myth, we must bear in mind that what we now regard as poetical personification, was looked upon as a complete expression of the truth by the ancients; we must put ourselves into the position of men who saw the immediate activity of Divine beings in all the phenomena of nature. Imagine, then, the sudden approach of a heavy thunderstorm, as seen in mountainous districts. The earth gasps for rain. Prayers rise on high continually to Indra, the god of blessings. They seem to have been heard, for see! the clear-coloured clouds rise above the horizon; they are the cows of Indra, and he is going to milk them to make the earth fruitful. They come. Soon may they yield their treasures! But, alas! they

seem to be drawing off again. A dark shadow falls over

them. Vritra, the serpent, whose breath parches the world, shuts up the cows of Indra in his gloomy den. A rumble of the distant thunder! It is the smothered lowing of the kine. Indra, the benefactor of mankind, advances to the battle, now alone, and now surrounded by the bands of howling winds. The thundering blows of the divine battleaxe may be heard, falling upon the cave. It bursts, and flames pour out from it. The trident spear of the serpent flickers through the darkness. At last the battle is over. The heavy shadow of cloud changes its shape, bursts, vanishes. At the same time the waters which it held imprisoned stream pattering on the earth below. Hurrah! Indra is milking the cows of heaven, and then, as the blue sky, he appears himself, in all the triumph of his glory.

You will see from these few hints that legends may be of very various nature and origin. Sometimes historical recollections play a chief part in them, and sometimes myths; here they have sprung up spontaneously, there again they have been expressly elaborated to give a visible shape to the author's impressions or thoughts. In either case they are of great value to us. It is true that they are not always improving; sometimes an unholy spirit speaks through them. That depends on the character of the men in the midst of whom they had their origin. But in every case they reveal something of the inner life of these men-of their thoughts, beliefs, hopes, fears; and now and then they make us acquainted with historical facts.

As

It stands to reason that we must go to work with the utmost caution when we draw our inferences from a legend, or use it as a contribution to our knowledge of the past. a rule, indeed, it teaches us nothing about the period in which it places us, but it does teach us something about that in which it was invented, or in which it sprang up. We consult the legend of the Drachenfels in vain for the particu

lars of the contest of Christianity and its conquest over the German heathenism; but it gives us a picture of the thankful joy of the Christians on the banks of the Rhine, as they looked back upon the wretched condition in which they had lived as heathens. From the myth of Indra we can draw nó knowledge of nature or of God, but it introduces us to the religious views of nature held by the Hindoos.

The same holds good of the Israelite and early Christian legends. The accounts of the fortunes of the patriarchs teach us very little about a hoary pre-historic age; those of the birth and childhood of Jesus hardly anything about the first years of his life. If we took up the legend of Balaam in connection with the Mosaic age, we should form a thoroughly untrue conception of it; if we looked to the Transfiguration on the mount for light on the history of Jesus, we should be bitterly disappointed. The evidence put in by all these narratives concerns times long after those into which they transport us; so that they cannot be understood or consulted to any purpose until we are acquainted to some extent with the character of these later times, with the modes of thought, the diverging tendencies, the social or religious condition of the men in the midst of whom the legend arose. So, for example, if we are to understand the story of Balaam, we must keep the condition of the Israelites under King Jeroboam II. before our eyes; and the legend of the Transfiguration on the mount cannot be explained until we are at home in the disputes of the apostolical community on points of doctrine.

It would be very troublesome to us, however, and not a little wearisome to you, if every time we took up a legend we were compelled by anticipation to transport ourselves to an entirely different condition of things from that described in the narratives which precede and follow; if, to confine ourselves to the same examples, while in the middle of our

treatment of the Mosaic age, we had to describe the century of Jeroboam II., or in the midst of the details of the life of Jesus to speak of the factions of the first century which followed him. But yet we must not treat such a legend carelessly; it must be explained in every point as thoroughly as possible. The way in which we have attempted to meet these difficulties is as follows:

In the first place, we have prefixed a review of the history of Israel to our treatment of the narratives of the Old Testament—a sketch of the history of Jesus and the Apostolic age to those of the New. In this we have been as brief as possible; but in the sequel of our work we suppose you to be acquainted with the principal features of the history. You must look upon these introductions, therefore, as the rapid sketch in outline of the drawings which will be worked up afterwards when we come to treat of the separate narratives.

In the second place, we shall transpose some few of our narratives, those, namely, which would compel us to make wide digressions if we took them up in the connection in which they are found in the Bible, but which are particularly valuable in throwing light upon the age to which they really belong. Thus, you would look in vain for the blessing of Balaam in the Mosaic age, but the narrative will find its place in the eighth century; and that of the Transfiguration will be considered when we are dealing with the Apostolic age, but not in the life of Jesus.

III.

Without intending it, we have enlarged a good deal on the unhistorical character of many of the Biblical narratives, and the influence which it has had upon the arrangement of our work. It really was a matter which could not be

settled in a couple of lines. But it is possible that we may have led one or two of our readers into the mistake of supposing that it is the essential point in our eyes.

This is by no means the case, however. As we said just now, our greatest care has been to make these narratives speak to the heart and conscience, and in explaining them to offer wholesome and pleasant food to the religious and moral sense. It is our heart-felt wish that they may do our readers good, bring God nearer to them, and lead them to the knowledge of the highest truth.

Now, if anyone thinks that these narratives can hardly serve such a purpose, because, after all, they are to a great extent, "mere" legends, he is under a mistake. When we ask, What took place? then, of course, a legend has much less value than an accurate account drawn up by an eyewitness, or at least a trustworthy contemporary; and for many a period of the history both of Israel and of Jesus and his apostles, we have to lament the absence of reliable accounts. But it is quite another matter if we use a narrative as a means of nourishing our religious and moral life. In this case its value depends entirely upon the spiritual stand-point of the composers, who lay before us in this symbolic form of expression their aims and opinions, their hope and fear, their love and their hate, their struggle after clearer light, their faith and their doubt. Now, the legends of the Old and New Testaments are the work of the Israelites and Christians, and may therefore serve in an eminent degree to enlarge our horizon, to purify our feelings, to enrich and strengthen our inner life. For the Israelites stand before all the nations of antiquity in their grasp of religious subjects, so that Israel is rightly called the people of religion. And if even they, who only walked in the twilight, and so had very imperfect, nay, often very perverted ideas of God and their own vocation, deserve a hearing,