of their action is a sin committed in their midst
which must be done away; it is the sanctity of the
theocracy which brings these 400,000 men to arms and
fills them at once with unction and with sanguinary
zeal. The clerical instincts have entirely taken
possession of this uniform mass, have passed into
their flesh and blood, and moulded them into a single
automaton, so that all that takes place is invariably
done by all at once. No individuals come to the
front, not even by name, still less by deeds of velour;
the moral tone is anything but heroic. When
the godless reprobates of Gibeah seek to assail the
person of the Levite who is passing the night there,
he hands over to them his wife in order to save himself,
and all Israel finds nothing objectionable in this
revolting act of cowardice, the opinion probably being
that by his conduct the holy man had kept the sinners
from still graver guilt. “Of the Mosaic
law not a word is said in these chapters, but who
could fail to perceive that the spirit which finds
its expression in the law pervaded the community which
acted thus? Had we more narratives of similar
contents we should be able to solve many a riddle
of the Pentateuch. Where under the monarchy
could we find an Israel so united, vigorous, earnest,
so willing to enter upon the severest conflict for
the sake of the highest ends? “Thus Bertheau,
rightly feeling that this story has a quite exceptional
position, and contradicts all that we learn from other
quarters of the period of the judges or even the kings.
Only we cannot reckon it a proof of the historic value
of the story, that it gives the lie to the rest of
the tradition in the Books of Judges, Samuel, and
Kings, and is homogeneous not with these books but
with the Law. On the other hand, the writer betrays
himself with a self-contradiction, when, unconsciously
remembering the preceding chapters, he laments the
disorganisation of the time he is dealing with (xix.
1, xxi. 25), and yet describes Israel to us as existing
in a religious centralisation, such as demonstrably
was never attained in the earlier life of the nation,
but only came about as a consequence of the exile,
and is the distinctive mark of Judaism.
As this narrative is not one of those included in
the Deuteronomistic scheme of the Book of Judges,
there may be a question whether it presupposes the
Deuteronomic law only, or the priestly law as well.
Its language has most points of contact with Deuteronomy;
but one extremely important expression and notion,
that of “the congregation of the children of
Israel,” points rather to the Priestly Code.
The same may be said of Phinehas ben Eleazar ben
Aaron (xx. 28). The latter, however, occurs
but once, and that in a gloss which forms a very awkward
interruption between “and the children of Israel
inquired of Jehovah,” and the word “saying”
which belongs to that phrase. We have also to
remark that there is no mention of the tabernacle,
for which there is no room in addition to Mizpeh (p.
256), so that the principal mark of the Priestly Code
is wanting. It is only in preparation, it has
not yet appeared: we are still standing on the
ground of Deuteronomy, but the way is being prepared
for the transition.