39. Heitmüller. Jesus
Von W. Heitmüller, D. u. Professor der Theologie in Marburg. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr. 1913. 1 his volume contains a reprint of the Article "Jesus Christ" in the T third volume (1912) of the encyclopædia published under the name of "Die Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart"; together with an Address on "Jesus of Nazareth and the Way to God" delivered on March 11, 1913, at the seventeenth meeting (at Aarau) of the Conference of Swiss Christian
Students.
The occasion of the publication of the volume is not without its interest. The Theological Faculty of the University of Marburg has for some time been in controversy with the Prussian Kultusministerium over the appointments made from time to time to its professorships. One fruit of this controversy was a pamphlet—his opponents call it a Brandschrift— by Jülicher bearing the title of "Die Entmündigung einer preussischen theologischen Fakultät." Notice was taken of this pamphlet in the Prussian
Chamber of Deputies, and in the course of some remarks upon it the Freiherr von Schenk of Schweinsberg, who happened to be not only a deputy of the Chamber but also President of the Konsistorialbezirk Kassel, within the bounds of which the University of Marburg is situated, took occasion to comment also, with some sharpness, on Heitmüller's Article
"Jesus Christ" (April 5, 1913). This is what he said:
"I am constrained to show you by means of a scientific work to what such a critical tendency can lead. I will be quite brief and, with the permission of the President, will read from the scientific work, 'Die Religion in Geschichte und
Gegenwart,' only the following sentences from the Article Jesus Christ, II, Particular Questions in the Life of Jesus.
'For the Jewish conception there lies immediately comprehensible in the idea of "the Son," that God stands to Jesus in a special relation of trust and love; as "the Son" Jesus knows Himself as before all other men the object of the special love of God. As we must understand from the context, He knows Himself as the Son precisely because He knows God in a unique fashion and God has made Him the vehicle of Revelation. Vehicle of a unique revelation, the Son absolutely—we are almost appalled (erschrecken) by the loftiness of this consciousness. It is certainly in no way a divine consciousness, but yet a vocational consciousness which almost oversteps the bounds of humanity and evacuates all the human experience which is otherwise manifested—with reference to which we might ask indeed whether it can be made consistent with soundness and clarity of mind.' (Hear, hear! and for shame! from the
Right.) 'Here is the point at which the figure of Jesus becomes mysterious, almost unearthly to us. But' … Now comes the But, for were the author to stop at this point and not proceed to this But, I am convinced that he, like any professor who propounds such teaching, must be liable to have a process entered against him for blasphemy (deputy
Heckenroth, very true!) or at least for overstepping his professorial privileges. The text being read proceeds: 'But we have scarcely the right to distrust the essential contents of our passage, Matt. 11:25 to 27, and that the less that the whole manner of conceiving the significance of Jesus
(Revealer) which meets us here corresponds very little with the modes of thought of the primitive community.'
Gentlemen, I am constrained to place my finger upon this point, because I say to myself, Here is an absolutely essential point, which must receive attention, for here there comes to an end what is otherwise spoken of as a theological tendency; here there meets us a point of view which is absolutely different from what we otherwise speak of as the Christian point of view (very true! from the Right). We are not dealing here with two tendencies, but with two worldviews (very true! from the Right), with two completely diverse religions. They cannot be forced under the shibboleths of 'positive' and 'liberal' or dealt with from the standpoint of party politics.… Gentlemen, no indulgence can be shown to such things—even under the mantle of freedom of teaching (Lehrfreiheit). I am convinced, if we enter upon such a pathway, that we must ultimately reach the point where it must be said, What is here offered to the
people has nothing in common with Christianity except the name, but intrinsically nothing more. The monistic conception of life is making way among ever wider circles of our people, not merely among the professors at the universities, among the educated and learned—no, it is already penetrating into very wide circles of all ranks, and the more deeply our population descends on the downward sloping road of the monistic conception of life, the more firmly and steadily must the Kultusminister, as the first counselor of the throne, take his stand upon the high
Christian world-view, and give expression to this his point of view in his decrees and acts.…"
To the man in the street these must seem very sensible and straightforward remarks. But they naturally gave great offense at Marburg.
The venerable Herrmann at once protested against them in behalf of his colleagues, in an open letter addressed to von Schenk and published in Die
Christliche Welt for May 1, 1913 (No. 18), and Heitmüller has felt compelled by them to lay the Article attacked before the wider audience before which he was incriminated, as his sufficient defense. In republishing thus this Article Heitmüller adds to it the Swiss Address as offering "a practical-religious supplement" to it. The Article is a scientific statement of what we historically know of Jesus. The Address deals with "the complex of the much discussed questions which concern the significance of the historical Jesus for faith." The two together may supply us, their author thinks, with some suggestion at least of his whole attitude, scientific and religious, towards Jesus.
The line which Heitmüller takes in reply to von Schenk is apparently a simple denial that he can justly be charged with ascribing to Jesus an
unsound mind. He therefore contents himself at this point with a simple reference to a passage in his Article in which he expressly declares that the attempt to represent Jesus as of unsound mind has not succeeded. This passage (p. 89) runs as follows: "As assured data of the tradition, we have the vocational consciousness transcending the limits of the prophetic and the fact that Jesus laid claim to the Messianic dignity in some sense or other.
That these two facts raise difficult psychological questions, scarcely needs to be emphasized. And when of late the mental soundness of Jesus has been questioned, and He has been presented as a pathological subject, this attempt has at least a possible point of attachment here. It has not succeeded and it can never succeed. The poet of the parables, the framer of the proverbs, was as sound as ever man was. And in this sound consciousness we find that content! Much can be brought forward to mitigate the puzzle; we are in no position to solve it." It is right to recall, however, that von Schenk does not represent Heitmüller as declaring Jesus to have been of unsound mind. He represents him as saving himself from that by a "But." The gist of his representation appears to be that Heitmüller deals frivolously with the charge that Jesus was of unsound mind and seems indeed to treat it as a preferable hypothesis to the ascription of a divine self-consciousness to Him: that he even appears to suggest that had Jesus' mysterious self-consciousness been but a little more exalted than he allows it to have been, we should have had to admit that He was of unsound mind. And this representation we can scarcely deny to be fairly justified.
The self-consciousness of Jesus is manifestly the crux of Heitmüller's presentation of Him. He declares it roundly to be merely human. "That the self-consciousness of Jesus," he says (p. 68), "was through and through a human one, will be regarded as self-evident by every one who without hindrance from ecclesiastical dogma, makes use of the sources and of the
historical criticism which is indispensable with reference to them." But in the palmary passage, which von Schenk cites (p. 71), it is only by dealing most drastically with Matt. 11:27 (which is there under discussion) and violently reconstructing its text after the unfortunate example of Harnack, that he can reduce the lofty self-consciousness there ascribed to Jesus to something which he can pronounce human; and he seems indeed only barely able to pronounce even what he makes it soundly human. A little later he speaks of "this self-consciousness which far transcends all human experience and seems to lift its subject out of the series of men" (p. 118); and again at the end of the Article (p. 148) of "that extraordinary vocational consciousness transcending all human analogies, which, if we regard it as sound, can be represented only as an intimation that in this man in peculiar measure a creative, or as the pious man puts it, a divine life has entered into history." The constant recurrence of the suggestion that this self-consciousness may be thought to be unsound—or is thought by some to be unsound—may serve the purpose of conveying to the reader a keen sense of its exaltation. It also, however, leaves the impression on the reader's mind that in Heitmüller's view Jesus' self-consciousness just falls short of being unsound; and that, even after he has reduced it far below its actual representation in such an unassailable passage as Matt. 11:27. The conviction unavoidably forms itself, accordingly, that Heitmüller, after all said, finds himself with a Jesus on his hands whose self-consciousness is so little "through and through human" that he does not quite know what to do with it, and is compelled to allow that those who pronounce it a deranged self-consciousness have some show of justification, even after he has reduced it from the actual representation of it in, say, Matt. 11:27. And, if this reduction be not allowed—as it cannot be allowed—what then? We cannot see that Heitmüller safely escapes from the antithesis, aut Deus aut non sanus; and since he will not have the Deus at any cost, that he has any
just ground of complaint against von Schenk's charges. He does seem upon the verge of assigning to Jesus a diseased self-consciousness (and that is all that von Schenk charges) and he appears to save himself from this result only by dealing with extreme violence with his texts.
The vigor of Heitmüller's Socinianism in his conception of Jesus' person has already become evident. He will not hear of Jesus being anything else than a man and a man of His times. How he obtains this purely human Jesus from records which present a very different Jesus lies in that mystery of "Liberal criticism" with which we are so familiar nowadays:
Heitmüller's critical methods differ in nothing from those current in the "Liberal" circles of which he is an ornament, and require the less to be adverted to here in detail that we have recently had occasion to explain them pretty fully in this Review (xi. 1913, pp. 218 ff.). By means of this
"criticism" very drastically applied, he manages to extract from records which present to us a divine Jesus, a purely human figure; from records which present to us a supernatural Son of God surrounded by an aureole of miracle, a simply natural man who wrought no miracle. Not at Nazareth only, but throughout His career, He could do no mighty work, though He laid His hand on a few sick folk and healed them. Jesus had an impressive personality and may be credited with "faith-cures" (p. 67); it was from this beginning that tradition, certainly very rapidly, transmuted Him into "the Aesculapius of His people" (p. 60). But the historian can allow to Him no real "miracle" (p. 61). When "the historian" is done with the records, indeed, we find ourselves with very much less real knowledge of Jesus in our hands than we could wish. Heitmüller desires to separate himself, it is true, from that overstrained scepticism with reference to the knowledge of Jesus which he recognizes has been of late far too common even among theologians (p. 153). But he recoils from the other extreme also, which would have it that we know Jesus "as if He were one of our
contemporaries" (p. 154). The way in which he would express himself is this (p. 41): "What we can attain by this procedure is certainly far less than we could wish. It of course does not suffice for writing a Life of Jesus; but neither is it enough even to sketch a portrait of His character or of His activity. There are individual traits of the portrait of Jesus which we distinguish, some of them clearly, some of them only in obscure outlines; there is often lacking the unifying bond and if we are prudent and desire to proceed with surety we will do well to make very little use of complementary and psychologizing inferences. On the other hand what we can grasp historically is not little and it includes what is most important.
Whether the Christian can found his faith on it is a question which it is not the historian's business to answer and the Christian should not raise it."
It must be admitted that Heitmüller is not very exigent with reference to the historical foundations of a Christian's faith. That is a matter which is more fully discussed in the Lecture at Aarau; but there are some odd hints regarding it even in the encyclopædia Article which it may repay us to take note of in passing. When discussing the story of the Virgin-birth, he determines it to be an invention of Gentile Christians on the model of the heathen myths of divinely-begotten men, possibly in misapprehension of the proclamation of Jesus as the "Son of God" (pp. 45–46). Yet he can tell us (p. 43) that "the question as to the right of the faith which comes to expression in it, is not strictly speaking at all subject to the judgment of the historian." The historian, it seems, can only "determine whether this faith showed itself early or late, and in whom it is found in the primitive
Christian community." The plain man is apt to think that when it has been shown by the historian that the belief that Jesus was born of a virgin stands on a par with the similar belief as to Plato, it is already determined that it has no right to exist. At an earlier point the distinction here suggested is drawn broadly out (pp. 12–13). "The pious man, even the simplest and
most unlearned, on sinking himself believingly in these faith-laden accounts, finds the Jesus who kindles faith and whom faith needs. But the historian who does not ask what Jesus means for faith, but would fain ascertain and present what can be known of Jesus' life, acts, and nature by means of the generally recognized instruments and methods of scientific research, is able only through infinitely toilsome and complicated investigation to establish the treasure which is hidden in these writings on really sure reports. The chief question for him, before he uses them, is that which concerns the historical value of these sources." Is not this "the chief question" for the man who seeks spiritual life in them too? We observe that even Heitmüller says that the pious man finds what he seeks in the Gospels only when he sinks himself in them believingly (bei glaübiger Versenkung).
Can he ponder believingly upon accounts whose historical truth he suspects or denies? To recommend the pious man to kindle his faith by narratives which he knows or suspects to be fables is a frivolity which must avenge itself in the degradation of faith into empty sentimentality.
The state of the case is not really altered by Heitmüller's view that though the Evangelical narratives are not historically trustworthy we come into contact in them with Jesus' "creative personality." How can we come into contact with Jesus' "creative personality" in accounts of words which He did not speak and deeds which He did not do? Meanwhile, we are led by this remark to observe Heitmüller's point of sight. According to him, though we obtain from the Evangelical narratives very little knowledge about Jesus, we do obtain from them a very vital knowledge of Jesus. Not that they enable us to form a clear conception of His whole personality. We may regret this; but we may congratulate ourselves that what is most important lies within our reach—a sufficient insight into His religious character, at least in its fundamental traits. "No doubt insight into its development is here too almost wholly denied to us, and thus we lack an
important key to its full understanding. But we discover nevertheless its outlines and the chief elements of it" (p. 107). There are (apart from Jesus' acts) two sources for our knowledge of it: His words, and the religious life of the primitive Christian community, quickened by Him, from which we can argue back to the personality which inspired it (p. 108). Through these means we come into touch with the really creative thing in Jesus, which was just Himself. "The secret of His efficacy from His death on rests in His personality, which received its peculiar stamp from that extraordinary vocational consciousness, leaving all human analogies behind, which, if we regard it as sound, can be taken only as an indication that in this man a life, in peculiar measure creative—the pious man says, divine—has entered into history. Filled with life in and with God, sustained by this enigmatical consciousness, Jesus' personality has become—that is its significance—a 'power of God' from which ever new streams and surges of religious power have proceeded and proceed, the inexhaustible source of religious life, out of which Christianity still to-day draws" (p. 148).
In these few words there is compressed a brief exposition of Heitmüller's whole conception of the function of Jesus, of Heitmüller's entire "Christianity." Elsewhere he merely expands it, as, for example, thus
(pp. 105–106):
"The pious zeal of the dominant ecclesiastical party and the prudent calculation of the magistracy had won in the unequal conflict with the bold Galilean prophet. In the gibbet at Golgotha they had prepared an abrupt ending of the history of the Messiah Jesus. Yet at and with Golgotha this history really began: the history of Jesus in His community, which has not reached its end even to-day. And this history leaves no doubt of the answer which is to be
given to the historian's question, Where the original and creative element, the effective force of the manifestation of Jesus is to be sought, in what its world-historical significance is grounded. Not in His sacrificial death on the cross, as dogma has determined. Nor yet, as modern opinion wishes, in His teaching or preaching, which is called by predilection,
'the gospel.' It needs only a glance into the beginnings of the Christian community to perceive the truth. The disciples had in their enthusiasm hoped that Jesus should redeem the people Israel. Their hope was shattered by Golgotha. Like sheep who have lost their shepherd they were scattered, without guides, without hope. But in a little while we find them again in Jerusalem, at first behind closed doors, then, however, in the streets. At first they whispered it in the ear— then, however, they proclaimed it from the housetops: that Jesus is nevertheless the Messiah. Rapidly the little band of simple Galilean men and women became a company which was feared and persecuted and yet thus only increased. What turned these fishermen and peasants into missionaries, these fainthearted and stupidly fleeing disciples into heroes, the little community into the mustard-seed whose branches should soon shade the whole earth? What was the mark of this community? The knowledge of the preaching of Jesus?
The no-doubt valuable new information on religion and ethics which it contains? Certainly not. But the personality of Jesus. To Him the hopes and the thought of this band attached themselves, from Him it looked for everything in life and death; that He would come was its hope, its prayer that He would come soon. Jesus, He Himself, was the power
which wrought here, not some kind of knowledge or other, which He had discovered and proclaimed; not some kind of transaction or other which He had wrought. Jesus Himself is the 'gospel.' His personality was what was new and creative, that entered into history, animated the community, and has worked itself out in humanity."
This is eloquently said, but certainly not truly. On the face of it, it was the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, not His "personality," which reanimated His overwhelmed followers. Heitmüller, by the way, has strangely little to say of Jesus' resurrection: apparently he does not consider it even worth refuting, as he refutes, say, the Virgin-birth. But he had nevertheless, immediately before the passage which has been quoted, said this: "After a short time, we see His Galilean adherents back in Jerusalem; they proclaimed that Jesus was nevertheless the Messiah, that He was risen from the dead. This, however, belongs no longer to the history of the 'historical Jesus,' but to that of the primitive Christian community" (p.
104). On the face of it it was not "the personality" of Jesus that conquered the world, but the glad-tidings that God was reconciling the world with Himself in Christ—a text which Heitmüller misquotes (p. 169). Paul, for example, preached not Christ simpliciter but Christ "as crucified." Nor was
Paul the first to preach this. There is no "double gospel" in the records of the New Testament; and it was Jesus Himself who declared that He had come to give His life a ransom for many—a text which Heitmüller vainly strives to rob of its true content and bearing (p. 117). It is not by the influence of His "creative personality" but by His blood of the covenant which is shed for many that Jesus has redeemed the world.
These ideas of course recur in the Aarau Address, the precise purpose of which is to show that—and how—Jesus may still be the—or a—way to
God. This Address begins, like a sermon, with a text; and this text is taken from the words of Philip, "Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us." In Heitmüller's view (for he makes as strangely little of Sin here as of the Resurrection in the encyclopædia Article) the one thing needful is that we should "see the Father," that is, in his sense, realize God as Father. What
Jesus does is merely "to show us the Father," that is, by the impression made on us by His religious personality lead us to be, like Him, religiousminded. He is not the only one who can show us the Father: there are other ways of finding God and many there be who go to Him by them. We should not lose our faith, then, even were He to vanish out of history: should He prove a mere myth, we could still find our way to the Father. But Jesus is a Way to God; and we, in our surroundings, can not only best find our way to God by Him but the loss of Him as the inspirer of our faith would be a great loss indeed.
In developing these ideas Heitmüller begins by pointing out that the starting-point in all seeking after God must be found in our hearts. But only the starting-point. We cannot attain complete, victorious certitude of God, clearness as to that which He means for us, in isolation. "Generality, paleness, indeterminativeness, characterize the religious experiences which we make in ourselves, in independence. They are without blood and sap, without triumphant, compelling power, without concrete content.
Content and convincing, emancipating power are received by them, they become revelation of God, only and first when they fall in with a powerful experience of God outside of us, only by contact with the stream of religious life which surrounds and flows about us" (p. 158). Now, the religious life which thus surrounds us is in its peculiar form Christian— goes back to Christ as its source. "Not in all cases—that we wish to recognize—but certainly for the most part, when men meet us with living faith in God, we hear that they owe to Jesus ultimately the best that is in
them" (p. 161). Thus Jesus meets us in the way and serves as the rallyingpoint for the religious-minded. "His figure is the symbol and vehicle of all religious goods and knowledge" (p. 162). And as time has gone on the richness of this symbolism has become ever greater. Into it has been interwoven all that the later generations of the Christian community have experienced, and thus "the traits of His figure have been deepened, the outlines of its form here and there have been altered"—there have been contributions made to it by a Paul or a Luther or a Schleiermacher—and "thus Jesus, or what men have taken and still take for Him, the source and symbol and type of the Christian community's experience of God, as a whole," becomes indirectly and mediately, through His community, the way to God for us (p. 162). This, however, is not all: throughout Christian history, Christian faith has been powerful, rich, and clear in proportion as Jesus has been clearly laid hold of, and thus He has been also directly and immediately the way to God for many (p. 163). "This is certain—we wish to say it once more: that it is in any case not necessary that for men of the present day Jesus should be directly the guide to God, that the religious life of the individual should relate itself immediately and constantly to Jesus, be determined by Him, correct itself with reference to Him. There are other media of revelation, other ways to God. God lets Himself be found, experience of God can grow and gain power, through the community— and indeed also through the religious life outside the community" (p. 163).
But all through the Christian ages, nevertheless, "Jesus, the historical form of Jesus of Nazareth, has been the immediate way to God for many," and He can still be such for us. It is a mistake to think of Jesus as wholly a figure of the past. "Jesus belongs in any event also to the present—in His effects. In manifold reflections and radiations He reaches in His effects up to our day.
And we have to deal with that Jesus, who in His effects can be a part of our reality, not with the various fragments and externalities which are no doubt
important for the historian, and belong to His person, not with His several conceptions and ideas, with His view of the world and of nature and the like, but with His entirety, His personality, His essence, with that which has worked and works" (pp. 164–165).
If we ask where we are to find this really historical Jesus, "not the symbol and vehicle of the Christian religion, but the historical form of Jesus, of course that which is operative in history"—we must certainly say, not in the presentation of exact research. "The historian who works with the instruments and methods of exact research, and for good or evil must confine himself to them, can certainly even with the richest sources, grasp and set forth only details, particular traits, of a historical figure, not its personality. Here, however, we can have to do only with the indefinable, mysterious somewhat which we call personality—it is the source of the effects which proceed from a man. The personality is not, however, grasped by the instruments of exact history alone" (we beg the reader not to omit to mark this "alone"); "it is true even of the men with whom we live that we recognize and grasp their personality, their real nature, not through exact observation of details; they can be perceived only by the inner eye, intuitively understood—experienced" (pp. 165–166). There is perpetrated in this representation a complete reversal of the facts of life: if anything in life is certain, it is certain that it is precisely by the intense observation of details, often no doubt done unconsciously, and by their vital synthesis that we arrive at that vivid sense of personality which moves us in others. But working on this false analogy Heitmüller proceeds. Thus also we grasp the personality of Jesus by coming into contact with Him as He has lived in history; best of all in the narratives of Scripture (though Scripture, we have been told, does not depict Him as He really was!), when read—almost a lost art nowadays—simply and at large. Thus we meet with a character to which religion is first and God is all. Gazing upon this personality, we do not
acquire indeed a faith in the history of Jesus, but we acquire faith by means of the history of Jesus (p. 175). No doubt, we do not see Jesus as He was, but only as He has been interpreted to us—by a Luther, by a Schleiermacher. "But what Paul, Augustine, Francis of Assisi, Luther, and Schleiermacher experienced by means of Jesus, and on which we also nourish ourselves, was nevertheless also an effect of the historical Jesus."
"And what if now," Heitmüller proceeds to ask, "it were proven that Jesus was only the reflection and the cult-figure of a community? It has not been proven—but even if proven, then, what comes to the individual from the history of Jesus in the Gospels—which in that case would be a history of the oldest Christian community—by means of reception of it and living into it, bears in itself its own inner necessity and truth. No doubt, among other things we must in that case refrain from relating ourselves to Jesus and by this we would lose much. Above all for the times of inward uncertainty and weakness in our life with God, we should not be able to find support in this—that this manner of experiencing God has been actually a reality in its purity and compelling power in a man. It would be a great loss, but certainly not destructive of faith itself" (p. 176). After this clear declaration that Jesus may indeed be useful but cannot be necessary to faith ("Christian faith," mind you!) Heitmüller has little more to add except this positive declaration with which his Lecture closes: "Jesus' significance is a purely one-sided and limited one, and on that very account a very great and abiding one: it rests on the absolute forcibleness of His consciousness of God, which precisely for this reason makes Him the revelation of God for others, and in the apprehension of God as holiness and love. Thus He is a source of power; from which there ever proceed new waves and surges of that faith in God, the exposition and further development of which remains the task left to the exigencies and gifts of the different generations
—to the Spirit who takes of the things of Jesus (John 16:12 ff.). Our
generation too has had its particular task. But we too, like all generations, may with Philip turn to Jesus with the confident request: 'Lord, show us the Father, and it sufficeth us' " (pp. 177–178).
We have transcribed the argument of this Lecture with perhaps unnecessary fullness, because it seems to be put forward by Heitmüller as his defense against the charge that what he teaches is "Christianity" only in name, and has nothing but the name in common with anything that has hitherto been known by that name. Clearly it offers no sufficing defense against that charge. Under the name of "Christianity," indeed, it is clear that Heitmüller teaches a religion which stands in so external a relation to Christ, that it can get along very well without Him, and appeals to Him only to enable it to do a little more easily perhaps, perhaps a little more thoroughly, what it would be quite able to do even though He never existed. Jesus is an encouragement, an incitement, an inspiration to religious endeavor: nothing more. Obviously this has nothing but the name in common with the Christianity which sees in Jesus Christ not merely a revelation of God as Father, but the reconciliation of God to sinful man.
Here, as von Schenk truly says, are not two varieties of "Christianity," but two different religions, and the only question is, which of these two religions is Christianity. We know which is the Christianity of Jesus, of Paul, of all the New Testament writers, who all alike present Christ as offering in His blood a ransom for the sins of the world. This is not the "Christianity" of Heitmüller. We cannot profess to be of both parties here.
They stand in crass contrariety to one another and we must choose between them; and choosing between them, we must frankly declare of which of these two religions we are.
1. 1 The Princeton Theological Review, xii. 1914, pp. 315–324.