culating the probable duration of life under given conditions of physical torture, could therefore gratify the worst instincts of a savage and vindictive nature by witnessing the sufferings of human beings, unprotected by any motive to mercy but the divine suggestion that they represented so much capital!

In Judges iv. we read the story of the assassination of Sisera. The Israelites having suffered twenty years' oppression under Jaban, King of Canaan, Deborah and Barak undertook their deliverance. A great battle was fought with the hosts of Jaban, under the command of Sisera, resulting in the defeat of the Canaanites, and the flight of their general, who, alighting from his chariot, fled swiftly from the field of battle towards the tent of Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, a friend and ally of King Jaban.

Jael invited him into her tent, satisfied his thirst with milk, covered him with a mantle, and promised to faithfully conceal him from his enemies. The unhappy fugitive, betrayed by her smiles, placed his life with trustful confidence in her hands, and sank into the deep sleep of exhaustion. Thus unconscious, he saw not the shadow of Jael, or the nail and hammer uplifted over his head. The treacherous woman and perjured hostess became the ruthless assassin of her sleeping guest, and the story of his murder stands forth prominently in Hebrew annals as one of the foulest crimes. recorded in their blood-stained pages.

This felonious violation of the laws of hospitality, held sacred in the East from time immemorial, might be assigned to the religious fanaticism or personal cruelty of Jael, but that an eminent prophetess compromises

revelation by an inspired eulogium extolling the crime and the assassin.

These homicidal episodes in Hebrew Scripture obviously indicate that the sixth commandment, as interpreted among the Israelites, was not incompatible with deeds to which modern civilisation gives the names of murder and assassination.

The seventh commandment-accepted by modern piety as a divine revelation of the sacred obligations of marriage, which formed, however, the rule of domestic life among the ancient Egyptians, before the world had heard of Moses and the Prophets-was obviously interpreted among the Israelites in harmony with polygamy, concubinage, and a facility of divorce which gave to nuptial vows a purely nominal character.

We need not dwell upon the oft-told tale of Hebrew licentiousness, but illustrate how lightly they regarded matrimonial ties, by an episode in the early career of the pious David.

Once upon a time, according to 1 Samuel xxv., when Saul was yet king, and David a fugitive in the wilderness of Paran, there was a man in Maon named Nabal, possessed of numerous flocks of sheep and goats, and a beautiful wife-Abigail, of good understanding, which meant, in her case, considerable aptitude for looking after her own interests. Nabal, the husband of this charming and accomplished woman, is depicted as a churlish fellow guilty of a fault common in modern life, namely, unwillingness to part with his own to strangers, without clearly understanding why.

David sent Nabal a polite message, soliciting his friendship and any more substantial gifts he might feel

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disposed to grant, on the grounds that he (David) had never injured or robbed him. Nabal, interrupted in the midst of festive preparations, replied in the churlishly interrogative style, declining to share with mere strangers the good things prepared for himself and his servants. The proper punishment for this incivility, in the opinion of David, was the immediate slaughter of Nabal and all his male followers, a sanguinary purpose which he forthwith prepared to put into speedy execution by arming four hundred of his followers. But the ready-witted Abigail, informed of all these things by one of her husband's servants, hastened to meet David with a liberal supply of wine and provisions, and won the heart of the amorous warrior by her charming countenance, and clever abuse of her churlish husband. David, with characteristic piety, saw in her the messenger of Jehovah, and sent her away with the assurance that her advice and person were equally agreeable to him.

On the return of Abigail to Nabal, she found that unlucky churl in no fit condition for matrimonial confidence. But the next morning she told him these things, and his heart died within him, and he became as a stone,' in other words the unhappy husband became paralysed, on learning that his wife had been intriguing with a stranger.

Our interest in this narrative, however, centres in the closing scene: 'It came to pass about ten days after, that the Lord smote Nabal, that he died.' For this tragical result David praises the Lord, forthwith marries Abigail, and takes another wife in the following verse! Let us compare this narrative with the famous

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scene in which Nathan the Prophet denounces David for his adultery with Bathsheba, in the memorable words

Thou art the man.'1 Might not the king have advisedly answered, 'Hast thou forgotten, O Nathan, most mistaken of the Prophets! how the Lord slew Nabal that I might marry his charming widow? Has not, therefore, Uriah fallen by the will of Jehovah, that the beautiful Bathsheba might become the lawful possession of his faithful servant, David ?'

Deuteronomy xxiv. records a law legalising divorce at the caprice of husbands. The wife had no voice in the question of expulsion from her home, but enjoyed the privilege of remarrying some one more appreciative of her charms, as often as she might be divorced, with the sole exception that she could not renew conjugal relationship with one of her former husbands. Attractive women, whilst yet young, may have found life tolerable under these conditions, but what became of them when old-a misfortune which overtakes women at a very early age in the East? Who provided for the victims of Mosaic legislation who failed to secure more than one husband during a lifetime? And what became of the children born of such marriages?

This statute, in fact, swept away the seventh commandment, and legally sanctioned an economical system of polygamy fatal to the domestic and social life of the Hebrews. The rich man might crowd his harem with wives and handmaidens, but his impecunious neighbour, adopting intermittent divorce, avoided the expense of keeping more than one wife, whilst retaining the privilege of changing her at discretion.

1 2 Sam, xii.

The last three commandments, condemning covetousness, dishonesty, and falsehood, simply define rules indispensable to even elementary civilisation; and we therefore fail to discover in the Decalogue any trace of a moral revelation superior to the ethics of uninspired Humanity. On the contrary, we find that, when Mosaic teaching nominally harmonises with the social virtues of the ancient Egyptians, it becomes forthwith marred by supplementary legislation characterised by ignorance, superstition, and barbarism. Can we imagine a more degraded law, enacted in the darkest hour of Nigritian fetishism, than the Mosaic test of female frailty ?1

In the event of a jealous husband suspecting impropriety in his wife, he forthwith brought her to a priest, who gave her a mixture of dust and holy water to drink, as the miraculous test of guilt or innocence. If the case were one of unjust suspicion the accused suffered nothing more than the pangs of injured innocence. But, if she were indeed guilty, the unsavoury dose became a deadly poison, which convicted the culprit by afflicting her with some loathsome disease. This miracle was, therefore, always at the disposal of jealous husbands; and revelation was compromised by a barbarous rite, admitting of the innocent being poisoned through collusion with venal priests.

We wonder if this ordeal is a lost secret to modern Jews; and whether, if substituted in our day for the more tedious and costly procedure of divorce courts, modern justice would also present the bitter cup to the lips of suspected husbands.

If theocratic legislation sanctioned the bondage of

1 Numb. v.