Formerly, evangelical orthodoxy was prone to dwell on the fulfilment of prophecy in the “restoration of the Jews,” Such interpretation of the prophets is less in vogue now.  The dominant mode is to insist on a Christianity that disowns its origin, that is not a substantial growth having a genealogy, but is a vaporous reflex of modern notions.  The Christ of Matthew had the heart of a Jew—­“Go ye first to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”  The Apostle of the Gentiles had the heart of a Jew:  “For I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren, my kinsmen according to the flesh:  who are Israelites; to whom pertaineth the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the law, and the service of God, and the promises; whose are the fathers, and of whom as concerning the flesh Christ came.”  Modern apostles, extolling Christianity, are found using a different tone:  they prefer the mediaeval cry translated into modern phrase.  But the mediaeval cry too was in substance very ancient—­more ancient than the days of Augustus.  Pagans in successive ages said, “These people are unlike us, and refuse to be made like us:  let us punish them.”  The Jews were steadfast in their separateness, and through that separateness Christianity was born.  A modern book on Liberty has maintained that from the freedom of individual men to persist in idiosyncrasies the world may be enriched.  Why should we not apply this argument to the idiosyncrasy of a nation, and pause in our haste to hoot it down?  There is still a great function for the steadfastness of the Jew:  not that he should shut out the utmost illumination which knowledge can throw on his national history, but that he should cherish the store of inheritance which that history has left him.  Every Jew should be conscious that he is one of a multitude possessing common objects of piety in the immortal achievements and immortal sorrows of ancestors who have transmitted to them a physical and mental type strong enough, eminent enough in faculties, pregnant enough with peculiar promise, to constitute a new beneficent individuality among the nations, and, by confuting the traditions of scorn, nobly avenge the wrongs done to their Fathers.

There is a sense in which the worthy child of a nation that has brought forth illustrious prophets, high and unique among the poets of the world, is bound by their visions.

Is bound?

Yes, for the effective bond of human action is feeling, and the worthy child of a people owning the triple name of Hebrew, Israelite, and Jew, feels his kinship with the glories and the sorrows, the degradation and the possible renovation of his national family.

Will any one teach the nullification of this feeling and call his doctrine a philosophy?  He will teach a blinding superstition—­the superstition that a theory of human wellbeing can be constructed in disregard of the influences which have made us human.