Chapter V: Introduction (3)

Some idea of the extent to which conservative opinion has been
modified by criticism, may be gathered from the concessions made
by Professor Orr, whose book, _The Problem of the Old Testament_,
deservedly ranks as the ablest assault on the critical theory
of the Pentateuch that has recently appeared in English. Dr.
Orr admits (a) that Astruc was right in dividing a considerable
part of Genesis into Elohistic and Yahwistic sections; (b) that
Eichhorn’s characterisation of the style of the two documents
has, in the main, ‘stood the test of time’; (c) that Hupfeld’s
observation of a difference in the Elohistic sections of Genesis
‘in substance corresponds with facts’; and (d) that even Graf
and Wellhausen ‘mark an advance,’ in making Priestly-Code a
relatively later stratum of Genesis than Jehovist (pages 196‒201).
When we see so many defences evacuated one after another, we
begin to wonder what is left to fight about, and how a theory
which was cradled in infidelity, and has the vice of its origin
clinging to all its subsequent developments (Orr, 195 f.), is
going to be prevented from doing its deadly work of spreading
havoc over the ‘believing view’ of the Old Testament. Dr.
Orr thinks to stem the torrent by adopting two relatively
conservative positions from Klostermann. (1) The first is the
denial of the distinction between Yahwist and Elohist (216 ff.).
As soon as Hupfeld had effected the separation of Elohist from
Priestly-Code, it ought to have been perceived, he seems to
suggest, that the sections thus disentangled are really parts
of Yahwist (217). And yet, even to Dr. Orr, the matter is not
quite so simple as this, and he makes another concession. The
distinction in the divine names remains; and so he is driven
to admit that Yahwist and Elohist were, not indeed independent
works, but different literary recensions of one and the same
old work (229). What is meant by two versions in circulation
alongside of each other, which never had currency as separate
documents, is a point on which Dr. Orr owes his readers some
explanation; if there were two recensions they certainly existed
separately; and he cannot possibly know how far their agreement
extended. The issue between him and his critical opponents
is, nevertheless, perfectly clear: they hold that Yahwist and
Elohist are independent recensions of a common body of tradition,
while he maintains that they were recensions of a single
document, differing in nothing but the use of יהוה or אלהים. What
reasons, then, hinder us from deserting the critical view, and
coming over to the side of Dr. Orr? In the _first_ place, the
difference between Yahwist and Elohist is _not_ confined to
the divine names. The linguistic evidence is very much clearer
than Dr. Orr represents; and differences of conception, though
slight, are real. It is all very well to quote from candid and
truth-loving opponents admissions of the close resemblance of the
narratives, and the difficulty and uncertainty of the analysis,
in particular instances, and to suggest that these admissions
amount to a throwing up of the case; but no man with an
independent grasp of the subject will be imposed on by so cheap
a device. In the _second_ place, Yahwist and Elohist consist
largely of duplicate narratives of the same event. It is true,
this argument is lost on Dr. Orr, who has no difficulty in
conceiving that Abraham twice told the same lie about his wife,
and that his son Isaac followed his example, with very similar
results in the three cases. But he will hardly affect to be
surprised that other men take a more natural view,¹ and regard
the stories as traditional variations of the same theme.――(2)
The second position is that Priestly-Code was never a distinct
or self-subsisting document, but only a “framework” enclosing
the contents of Jehovist (341‒377). Again we have to ask what Dr.
Orr means by a ‘framework,’ which, in his own words, “has also,
at certain points, its original, and, in parts, considerable
contributions to bring to the history” (272); and how he can
possibly tell that these original and considerable contributions
did not come from an independent work. The facts that it is now
closely interwoven with Jehovist, and that there are gaps in
its narrative (even if these gaps were more considerable than
there is any reason to suppose), prove nothing except that it
has passed through the hands of a redactor. That its history
presupposes a knowledge of Jehovist, and is too meagre to be
intelligible apart from it, is amply explained by the critical
view that the author wished to concentrate attention on the
great religious turning-points in the history (the Creation,
the Flood, the Covenant with Abraham, the Blessing of Jacob by
Isaac, the origin of the name Israel, the Settlement in Egypt,
etc.), and dismissed the rest with a bare chronological epitome.
When we add that on all these points, as well as others,
the ‘original and considerable contributions’ are (Dr. Orr’s
protestations notwithstanding) radically divergent from the
older tradition, we have every proof that could be desired
that Priestly-Code was an independent document, and not a mere
supplementary expansion of an earlier compilation (see, further,
page lvii ff. below). But now, supposing Dr. Orr to have made
good his contentions, what advantage has he gained? So far as
we can see, none whatever! He does indeed go on to assert a
preference for the term ‘collaboration’ as expressing the ‘kind
and manner of the activity which brought the Pentateuchal books
into their present shape’ (375).² But that preference might just
as easily have been exercised on the full literary results of
the critical theory. And Dr. Orr deceives himself if he imagines
that that flimsy hypothesis will either neutralise the force
of the arguments that have carried criticism past the barren
eccentricities of Klostermann, or save what he chooses to
consider the ‘essential Mosaicity’ of the Pentateuch.

¹ So even Sayce, _Early History of the Hebrews_ (1897), 62 f.,
64 f.

² It is a grave injustice to Dillmann to associate his name,
however remotely, with this theory of ‘collaboration’ (527).
What Dillmann is speaking of in the words cited is simply
the question whether the three documents, Priestly-Code,
Elohist, and Yahwist, were combined by a single redaction,
or whether two of them were first put together and
afterwards united with the third. Dr. Orr, on the other
hand, is thinking of “the labours of _original composers_,
working with a common aim and towards a common end” (375).
If everything beyond this is conjectural (376), there is
nothing but conjecture in the whole construction.

Professor Eerdmans of Leiden, in a series of recent publications,
has announced his secession from the Graf-Wellhausen school,
and commenced to lay down the programme of a new era in Old
Testament criticism (_Hibbert Journal_ vii. [1909], 813 ff.).
His _Komposition der Genesis_ (1908) gives a foretaste of his
literary method; and certainly the procedure is drastic enough.
The divine names are absolutely misleading as a criterion
of authorship; and the distinction between Priestly-Code and
Jehovist goes overboard along with that between Yahwist and
Elohist. Criticism is thus thrown back into its original chaos,
out of which Eerdmans proceeds to evoke a new kosmos. His
one positive principle is the recognition of a polytheistic
background behind the traditions, which has been obscured in
various degrees by the later monotheistic interpretation. By
the help of this principle, he distinguishes four stages in the
development of the tradition. (1) The first is represented by
remnants of the original undiluted polytheism, where Yahwe does
not appear at all; _e.g._ 35¹⁻⁷; the Israel-recension of the
Joseph-stories; the groundwork of chapters 1. 20. 28¹⁻⁹ 6⁹‒9¹⁷.
(2) Legends which recognise Yahwe as one among many gods; 4.
9¹⁸⁻²⁷ 22. 27. 28¹¹⁻²² 29. 30. 31. 39. (3) In the third stage,
polytheistic legends are transferred to Yahwe as the only God:
2. 3. 6¹⁻⁸ 7¹⁻⁵ 8²⁰⁻²² 11¹⁻⁹ 16. 18. 19. 24. 25¹⁹⁻³⁴ 26. (4)
Late additions of purely monotheistic complexion: 15¹⁻⁶ 17.
35⁹⁻¹⁵ 48³⁻⁶. Now, we are quite prepared to find traces of all
these stages of religion in the Genesis-narratives, if they
can be proved; and, indeed, all of them except the second are
recognised by recent critics. But while any serious attempt to
determine the age of the legends from their contents rather than
from their literary features is to be welcomed, it is difficult
to perceive the distinctions on which Eerdmans’s classification
is based, or to admit that, for example, chapter 17 is one
whit more monotheistic than 20 or 27, or 24. In any case, on
Eerdmans’s own showing, the classification affords no clue to
the composition and history of the book. In order to get a start,
he has to fall back on the acknowledged _literary_ distinction
between a Jacob-recension and an Israel-recension of the
Joseph-narratives (on this see page 439 below). Since the former
begins אלה תלדות יעקב, it is considered to have formed part of a
comprehensive history of the patriarchs, commencing with Adam
(5¹), set in a framework of _Tôlĕdôth_. This is the groundwork
of Genesis. It is destitute of monotheistic colouring (it
contains, however, legends of all the first three classes!),
Yahwe being to the compiler simply one of the gods; and must
therefore have originated before the Exile: a lower limit is
700 B.C. This collection was soon enlarged by the addition of
legends not less ancient than its own; and by the insertion
of the Israel-recension, which is as polytheistic in character
as the _Tôlĕdôth_-collection! The monotheistic manipulation
of the work set in after Deuteronomy; but how many editions it
went through we cannot tell for certain. The last thorough-going
reviser was the author of chapter 17; but additions were made
even later than that, etc. etc. A more bewildering hypothesis
it has never been our lot to examine; and we cannot pretend to
believe that it contains the rudiments of a successful analysis.
There is much to be learned from Eerdmans’s work, which is full
of acute observations and sound reasoning in detail; but as
a theory of the composition of Genesis it seems to us utterly
at fault. What with Winckler and Jerome, and Cheyne, and now
Eerdmans, Old Testament scholars have a good many new eras
dawning on them just now. Whether any of them will shine unto
the perfect day, time will show.

§ 8. _The collective authorship of Yahwist and Elohist._

In Yahwist and Elohist we have, according to what has been said above, the two oldest written recensions of a tradition which had at one time existed in the oral form. When we compare the two documents, the first thing that strikes us is their close correspondence in outline and contents. The only important difference is that Elohist’s narrative does not seem to have embraced the primitive period, but to have commenced with Abraham. But from the point where Elohist strikes into the current of the history (at chapter 20, with a few earlier traces in chapter 15), there are few incidents in the one document to which the other does not contain a parallel.¹. What is much more remarkable, and indeed surprising, is that the _manner_ of narration changes in the two documents _pari passu_. Thus the transition from the loose connexion of the Abraham legends to the more consecutive biography of Jacob, and then to the artistic unity of the Joseph-stories (see page xxviii f.), is equally noticeable in Yahwist and in Elohist. It is this extraordinarily close parallelism, both in matter and form, which proves that both documents drew from a common body of tradition, and even suggests that that tradition had already been partly reduced to writing.²

¹ The precise extent to which this is true depends, of course,
on the validity of the finer processes of analysis, with
regard to which there is room for difference of opinion. On
the analysis followed in the commentary, the only episodes
in Elohist to which there is no trace of a parallel in
Yahwist, after chapter 15, are: the sacrifice of Isaac, 22;
Esau’s selling of his birthright, 25²⁹⁻³⁴ (?); the theophany
of Mahanaim, 32²ᐧ ³; the purchase of land at Shechem, 33¹⁸⁻²⁰;
and the various incidents in 35¹⁻⁸ᐧ ¹⁴⁻²⁰. Those peculiar to
Yahwist are: the theophany at Mamre, 18; the destruction of
Sodom, 19¹⁻²⁸; Lot and his daughters, 19³⁰⁻³⁸; the birth of
Jacob and Esau, 25²¹⁻²⁸; the Isaac-narratives, 26; Jacob’s
meeting with Rachel, 29²⁻¹⁴; Reuben and the love-apples,
30¹⁴ ᶠᶠᐧ; the incest of Reuben, 35²¹ᐧ ²²ᵃ; Judah and Tamar,
38; Joseph’s temptation, 39⁷⁻²⁰; the cup in Benjamin’s
sack, 44; Joseph’s agrarian policy, 47¹³⁻²⁶ (?); and the
genealogies of 22²⁰⁻²⁴ 25¹⁻⁶.

² One is almost tempted to go further, and say that the
facts can be best explained by the hypothesis of literary
dependence of one document on the other (so Luther _Die
Israeliten und ihre Nachbarstämme_, 169: “Elohist steht
völlig in seinem [Yahwist’s] Banne”). But the present writer
is convinced from repeated examination, that the differences
are not of a kind that can be accounted for in this way (see
Procksch, 305 f.).

Here we come back, from the side of analysis, to a question which was left unsettled in § 5; the question, namely, of the process by which the oral tradition was consolidated and reduced to writing. It has been shown with great probability that both Yahwist and Elohist are _composite documents_, in which minor legendary cycles have been incorporated, and different strata of tradition are embedded. This presupposes a development of the tradition within the circle represented by each document, and leads eventually to the theory advocated by most recent critics, that the symbols Yahwist and Elohist must be taken to express, not two individual writers but two _schools_, _i.e._, two series of narrators, animated by common conceptions, following a common literary method, and transmitting a common form of the tradition from one generation to another.

The phenomena which suggest this hypothesis are fully described
in the body of the commentary, and need only be recapitulated
here. In Yahwist, composite structure has been most clearly made
out in the Primæval History (chapters 1‒11), where at least two,
and probably more, strands of narrative can be distinguished
(pages 1‒4). Gunkel seems to have shown that in 12‒25 two
cycles of Abraham-legends have been interwoven (page 240);
also that in 25 ff. the Jacob-Esau and the Jacob-Laban legends
were originally independent of each other: this last, however,
applies to Yahwist and Elohist alike, so that the fusion had
probably taken place in the common tradition which lies behind
both. Further, chapters 34 and 38 (pages 418, 450) belong to an
older stratum of tradition than the main narrative; and the same
might be said of chapter 49 (page 512), which may very plausibly
be regarded as a traditional poem of the ‘school’ of Yahwist,
and the oldest extant specimen of its _repertoire_.――With regard
to Elohist, the proof of composite authorship lies chiefly in
the Books of Exodus, Numbers, and Joshua; in Genesis, however,
we have imperfectly assimilated fragments of a more ancient
tradition in 34 (? if Elohist be a component there), 35¹⁻⁷ 48²²
and perhaps some other passages.――The important fact is that
these passages exhibit all the literary peculiarities of the
main source to which they are assigned; at least, no linguistic
_differentiæ_ of any consequence have yet been discovered.¹ The
problem is to frame a theory which shall do justice at once to
their material incongruities and their literary homogeneity.

¹ The only exception would be Sievers’ metrical analysis,
which leads to results far more complicated than can be
justified by other indications (see page xxxi f.).

While the fact of collective authorship of some kind is now generally recognised, there is no agreement as to the interpretation which best explains all the phenomena. Some scholars are impressed (and the impression is certainly very intelligible) by the unity of conception and standpoint and mode of treatment which characterise the two collections, and maintain that (in the case of Yahwist especially) the stamp of a powerful and original personality is too obvious to leave much play for the activity of a ‘school.’¹ It is very difficult to hold the balance even between the claims of unity and complexity in the documents; but the theory of single authorship may easily be pressed too far. If we could get through with only a Yahwist¹ and Yahwist², Elohist¹, Elohist² etc.,――_i.e._, with the theory of one main document supplemented by a few later additions,――it would be absurd to speak of ‘schools.’ And even if the case were considerably more complicated, it might still be possible to rest satisfied (as a majority of critics do) with the idea of _literary_ schools, manipulating written documents under the influence of tendencies and principles which had become traditional within special circles. Gunkel goes, however, much further with his conception of Yahwist and Elohist as first of all guilds of oral narrators, whose stories gradually took written shape within their respective circles, and were ultimately put together in the collections as we now have them. The theory, while not necessarily excluding the action of an outstanding personality in shaping either the oral or the literary phase of the tradition, has the advantage of suggesting a medium in which the traditional material might have assumed its specifically Yahwistic or Elohistic form before being incorporated in the main document of the school. It is at all events a satisfactory working hypothesis; and that is all that can be looked for in so obscure a region of investigation. Whether it is altogether so artificial and unnatural as Professor Orr would have us believe, the reader must judge for himself.

¹ See the lengthy excursus of Luther in _Die Israeliten und
ihre Nachbarstämme_, 107‒170, where the thesis is upheld
that the Yahwist (_i.e._ Yahwist¹) is not a stage in the
natural process of remodelling the tradition; that he does
not mean merely to retail the old stories as he found them,
but writes his book with the conscious purpose of enforcing
certain ideas and convictions which often run contrary to
the prevailing tendencies of his age (108). Luther seems
to simplify the problem too much by excluding the primæval
tradition from consideration (108), and ignoring the
distribution of the Yahwistic material over the various
stages of the redaction (155). It makes a considerable
difference to the theory if (as seems to be the case) the
sections which Luther assigns to Yahwist² (_e.g._ chapters
34, 38, 19) really represent older phases of tradition than
the main document; for if they existed in their Yahwistic
colouring prior to the compilation of Yahwist¹, there must
have been a Yahwistic circle of some kind to preserve them;
and even if they received their literary stamp at a later
time, there must still have been something of the nature
of a school to impress the Yahwistic character so strongly
upon them. His conception of the Yahwist as an Ephraimite,
a detached and sympathetic adherent of the prophetic and
Rechabite movement of the 9th century, an opponent of the
cultus, and an upholder of the nomadic ideal against the
drift of the old tradition, seems to go far beyond the
evidence adduced, and, indeed, to be hardly reconcilable
with the religious tone and spirit of the narratives.――To
a similar effect writes Procksch, _Sagenbuch_, 284‒308;
although he does justice to the composite structure of the
document Yahwist, and describes it in terms which throw a
shade of uncertainty on the alleged unity of authorship.
When we read of an “einheitlichen Grundstock, auf den
wie in einen Stamm ♦Geschichten ganz anderer Herkunft
gewissermassen aufgepropft sind, jetzt eng damit verwachsen
durch die massgebenden Ideen” (294 f.), we cannot help
asking where these branches grew before they were engrafted
on their present stem. If we are right in distinguishing
a strand of narrative in which Yahwe was used from the
beginning, and another in which it was introduced in the
time of Enosh, it is not easy to account for their fusion on
any theory which does not allow a relative independence to
the two conceptions.

♦ “Geschicten” replaced with “Geschichten”

§ 9. _Characteristics of Yahwist and Elohist
――their relation to Literary Prophecy._

It is not the purpose of this section to give an exhaustive characterisation of the literary or general features of the two older documents of Genesis. If Yahwist and Elohist are to be regarded as, in the main, recensions of a common body of oral tradition, and if they are the work of schools rather than of individuals, it is obvious that the search for characteristic differences loses much of its interest; and in point of fact the attempt to delineate two well-defined literary types is apt to be defeated by the widely contrasted features which have to find a place in one and the same picture. Our object here is simply to specify some outstanding differences which justify the separation of sources, and which may assist us later to determine the relative ages of the two documents.

Yahwist presents, on the whole, a more uniform literary texture than Elohist. It is generally allowed to contain the best examples of pure narrative style in the Old Testament; and in Genesis it rarely, if ever, falls below the highest level. But while Elohist hardly attains the same perfection of form, there are whole passages, especially in the more ample narratives, in which it is difficult to assign to the one a superiority over the other. Yahwist excels in picturesque ‘objectivity’ of description,――in the power to paint a scene with few strokes, and in the delineation of life and character: his dialogues, in particular, are inimitable “for the delicacy and truthfulness with which character and emotions find expression in them” (compare Genesis 44¹⁸ ᶠᶠᐧ).¹ Elohist, on the other hand, frequently strikes a deeper vein of subjective feeling, especially of pathos; as in the account of Isaac’s sacrifice (22), of the expulsion of Hagar (21⁸ ᶠᶠᐧ), the dismay of Isaac and the tears of Esau on the discovery of Jacob’s fraud (27³⁵ ᶠᶠᐧ), Jacob’s lifelong grief for Rachel (48⁷), or his tenderness towards Joseph’s children (48¹⁴).² But here again no absolute distinction can be drawn; in the history of Joseph, _e.g._, the vein of pathos is perhaps more marked in Yahwist than in Elohist. Where parallels are sufficiently distinct to show a tendency, it is found in several instances that Yahwist’s objectivity of treatment has succeeded in preserving the archaic spirit of a legend which in Elohist is transformed by the more refined sentiment of a later age. The best example is Yahwist’s picture of Hagar, the intractable, indomitable Bedawi woman (chapater 16), as contrasted with Elohist’s modernised version of the incident (21⁸ ᶠᶠᐧ), with its affecting picture of the mother and child all but perishing in the desert. So again, Elohist (chapter 20) introduces an extenuation of Abraham’s falsehood about his wife which is absent from the older narrative of Yahwist (12¹⁰ ᶠᶠᐧ).

¹ Driver, _An Introduction to the Literature of the Old
Testament_, page 119.

² Compare Gunkel, page LXXVII.

It is not surprising, considering the immense variety of material comprised in both documents, that the palpable literary differences reduce themselves for the most part to a preference for particular phrases and turns of expression in the one recension or the other. The most important case is, of course, the distinctive use (in the pre-Mosaic period) of Yahwe in Yahwist and Elohim in Elohist.¹ But round this are grouped a number of smaller linguistic differences which, when they occur in any degree of profusion in a consecutive passage, enable us to assign it with confidence to one or other of the sources.

¹ This, it is true, is more than a mere matter of phraseology;
in the case of Elohist, it is the application of a theory
of religious development which connected the revelation of
the name Yahwe with the mission of Moses (Exodus 3¹³⁻¹⁵).
It is now generally held that the original Elohist continued
to use Elohim after the revelation to Moses, and that
the occurrences of Yahwe in the later history belong to
secondary strata of the document. On either view the choice
of the general name of deity is difficult to account for.
Procksch regards it as due to the influence of the great
monotheistic movement headed by Elijah; but that is not
probable. The inspiring motive of Elijah’s crusade was
precisely jealousy for _Yahwe_, the national God of Israel.
Gunkel, on the other hand, thinks it arose from the fact
that the legends were largely of Canaanite and polytheistic
origin; and it is certainly the case that in the patriarchal
history Elohist contains several strong traces of a
polytheistic basis of the narratives (28¹⁰ ᶠᶠᐧ 32²ᐧ ³ 35⁷
etc.). But that Elohim had a monotheistic sense to the mind
of the Elohistic writers is not to be doubted (against
Eerdmans).

_The divine names._――While the possibility of error in the
Massoretic textual tradition is fully recognised, cases of
inadvertence in the use of יהוה and אלהים are in Genesis singularly
few. In Elohist contexts, יהוה occurs 22¹¹ᐧ ¹⁴ ᵇⁱˢ 28²¹ 31⁴⁹, where
its presence seems due to the intentional action of a redactor.
Yahwist has אלהים (a) in 3¹⁻⁵ 4²⁵ (a special case: see pages 2,
53); (b) where the contrast between the divine and the human is
to be emphasised, 32²⁹; (c) in conversations with, or references
to, heathen (real or supposed), 9²⁷ 39⁹ 41³²ᵇᐧ ³⁸ 43²⁸ᐧ ²⁹
44¹⁶; there are also (d) some doubtful examples which are very
probably to be assigned to Elohist, 33⁵ᵇᐧ ¹⁰ᵇᐧ ¹¹ 42²⁸. It is only
in the last group (if even there), with the possible addition
(see page 155) of 8¹, that redactional alteration or scribal
error need be suspected.

For _the inhabitants of Canaan_, Yahwist uses כנעני, 10¹⁸ᵇᐧ ¹⁹ 12⁶
(? Redactor), 24³ᐧ ³⁷ 50¹¹ + (with פרזי, 13⁷ (Redactor?) 34³⁰);
Elohist אמרי, 15¹⁶ 48²² +.¹

¹ The cross (+) means that the usage is continued in the other
books of the Hexateuch.

For the name _Jacob_, Yahwist substitutes _Israel_ after 35²²
(except 46⁵ᵇ); Elohist consistently uses _Jacob_ (except 46²
48⁸ᐧ ¹¹ᐧ ²¹ [50²⁵?]).

The following are selected lists of expressions (in Genesis)
highly characteristic of Yahwist and Elohist respectively:

Yahwist: אבי and ושם אחיו in genealogies: the former, 4²⁰ᐧ ²¹
10²¹ 11²⁹ 22²¹; the latter, 4²¹ 10²⁵ (compare 22²¹ 25²⁶
38²⁹ ᶠᐧ).――זְקֻנִים (in connexion with a late-born child), 21²ᵃᐧ ⁷
24³⁶ 37³ 44²⁰.――מצא חן, 6⁸ 18³ 19¹⁹ 30²⁷ 32⁶ 33⁸ᐧ ¹⁰ᐧ ¹⁵ 34¹¹ 39⁴
47²⁵ᐧ ²⁹ 50⁴ +.――טרם (without ב), 2⁵ 19⁴ 24¹⁵ᐧ ⁴⁵ +.――ידע (in sexual
sense), 4¹ᐧ ¹⁷ᐧ ²⁵ 19⁵ᐧ ⁸ 24¹⁶ 38²⁶ (also in Priestly-Code).――ילד
(= ‘beget’), 4¹⁸ 10⁸ᐧ ¹³ᐧ ¹⁵ᐧ ²⁶ 22²³ 25³.――יש, 24²³ᐧ ⁴²ᐧ ⁴⁹ 28¹⁶
39⁴ᐧ ⁵ᐧ ⁸ 42² 43⁴ᐧ ⁷ 44¹⁹ᐧ ²⁰ᐧ ²⁶ 47⁶ᵇ + (42¹ Elohist?).――Derivatives
of √ עצב, ♦3¹⁶ᐧ ¹⁷ 5²⁹ 6⁶ 45⁵ᵃ.――הפעם, 2²³ 18³² 29⁴ᐧ ³⁵ 30²⁰ᵇ
46³⁰ +.――צעיר, צעירה (for the younger of two brothers or sisters),
19³¹ᐧ ³⁴ᐧ ³⁵ᐧ ³⁸ 25²³ 29²⁶ 43³³ 48¹⁴.――קרא בשם י׳, 4²⁶ 12⁸ 13⁴ 21³³
26²⁵ +.――רוץ לקראת, 18² [19¹] 24¹⁷ 29¹³ 33⁴.――שפחה, 12¹⁶ 16¹ᐧ ⁵ᐧ ⁶ᐧ ⁸
24³⁵ 30⁷ᐧ ¹⁰ᐧ ¹²ᐧ ⁴³ 32⁶ᐧ ²³ 33¹ᐧ ²ᐧ ⁶ (20¹⁴ 30¹⁸ Redactor: also
common in Priestly-Code); see on אמה below.――השקיף, 18¹⁶ 19²⁸
26⁸ +.――מעט with following genitive, 18⁴ 24¹⁷ᐧ ⁴³ 43²ᐧ ¹¹
44²⁵.――_Particles_: בעבור, 3¹⁷ 8²¹ 12¹³ᐧ ¹⁶ 18²⁶ᐧ ²⁹ᐧ ³¹ᐧ ³² 21³⁰
26²⁴ 27⁴ᐧ ¹⁰ᐧ ¹⁹ᐧ ³¹ 46³⁴.――כי־על־כן, 18⁵ 19⁸ 33¹⁰ 38²⁶ +.――לבלתי, 3¹¹
4¹⁵ 19²¹ 38⁹ + (in Elohist and Priestly-Code once each).――נא, in
Yahwist about 40 times, in Elohist about 6 times (in Genesis).

♦ duplicate reference “16.” removed

Elohist: אמה, 20¹⁷ 21¹⁰ᐧ ¹²ᐧ ¹³ 30³ 31³³ + (see שפחה above).――גדול
and קטן (‘elder’ and ‘younger’), 29¹⁶ᐧ ¹⁸ 42¹³ᐧ ¹⁵ᐧ ²⁰ᐧ ³²ᐧ ³⁴
(compare 41⁵¹ ᶠᐧ).――כלכל, 45¹¹ 47¹² 50²¹.――משכרת, 29¹⁵ 31⁷ᐧ ⁴¹.――A
very characteristic idiom of Elohist is the vocative (sometimes
doubled: 22¹¹ 46², Exodus 3⁴, [1 Samuel 3⁴ LXX] +) with the
answer הנני: 22¹ᐧ ⁷ᐧ ¹¹ 27¹ᵇᐧ ¹⁸ 31¹¹ 37¹³ 46² +.――Elohist is
further distinguished by a number of rare or archaic words or
phrases: אמנה, 20¹² + Joshua 7²⁰; דגה, 48¹⁶ +; זבד, 30²⁰; חמת,
21¹⁴ᐧ ¹⁵ᐧ ¹⁹ +; טחה, 21¹⁶ +; כן (‘honest’), 42¹¹ᐧ ¹⁹ᐧ ³¹ᐧ ³³ᐧ ³⁴;
מנים, 31⁷ᐧ ⁴¹ +; נין ונכד, 21²³ (compare Isaiah 14²², Job 18¹⁹ +); עקד,
22⁹ +; פלל, 48¹¹; פתר, 40⁸ ᶠᶠᐧ 41⁸ ᶠᶠᐧ +; פתרון, 40⁵ ᶠᶠᐧ 41¹¹ +; צנום,
41²³; קשיטה, 33¹⁹ + Joshua 24³² [Job 42¹¹] +; by a partiality for
rare infinitive forms (31²⁸ 46³ 50²⁰ 48¹¹ +), and the occasional
use of long forms of the nominal suffix (21²⁹ [31⁶] 41²¹ 42³⁶).

The religious and theological conceptions of the two documents are in the main identical, though a certain difference of standpoint appears in one or two features. Both evince towards the popular cultus an attitude of friendly toleration, with a disposition to ignore its cruder aspects; and this tendency is carried somewhat further in Yahwist than in Elohist. Thus, while neither countenances the Asherah, or sacred pole, Elohist alludes, without offence, to the Maẓẓebah, or sacred pillar (28¹⁸ᐧ ²² 31¹³ᐧ ⁴⁵ ᶠᶠᐧ 35²⁰); whereas Yahwist nowhere allows to the maẓẓebah a legitimate function in the worship of Yahwe. A very singular circumstance is that while both frequently record the erection of altars by the patriarchs, they are remarkably reticent as to the actual offering of sacrifice: Elohist refers to it only twice (22. 46¹), and Yahwist never at all in the patriarchal history (contrast 4³ ᶠᶠᐧ 8²⁰ ᶠᶠᐧ). It is difficult to imagine that the omission is other than accidental: the idea that it indicates an indifference (Gunkel), or a conscious opposition (Luther), to the cultus, can hardly be entertained; for after all the altar had no use or significance except as a means of sacrifice.――The most striking diversity appears in the representation of the Deity, and especially of the manner of His revelation to men. The antique form of the theophany, in which Yahwe (or the Angel of Yahwe) appears visibly in human form, and in broad daylight, is peculiar to Yahwist (chapters 16. 18. 19), and corresponds to the highly anthropomorphic language which is observed in other parts of the document (chapters 2. 3. 7. 8. 11⁵ᐧ ⁷). Elohist, on the contrary, records no daylight theophanies, but prefers the least sensible forms of revelation,――the dream or night-vision (15¹ 20³ᐧ ⁶ 21¹² [compare ¹⁴] 22¹ ᶠᶠᐧ 28¹⁰ ᶠᶠᐧ 31¹¹ᐧ ²⁴ 46²),¹ or the voice of the angel from heaven (21¹⁷). In this respect Elohist undoubtedly represents a more advanced stage of theological reflexion than Yahwist.――The national feeling in both sources is buoyant and hopeful: the ‘scheue heidnische Stimmung,’ the sombre and melancholy view of life which marks the primæval history of Yahwist disappears absolutely when the history of the immediate ancestors of Israel is reached. The strongly pessimistic strain which some writers note as characteristic of Elohist finds no expression whatever in Genesis; and so far as it exists at all (Joshua 24), it belongs to secondary strata of the document, with which we are not here concerned.

¹ We do not include the dreams of the Joseph-stories, which
seem to stand on a somewhat different footing (page 345).
Nocturnal revelations occur, however, in Yahwist (26²⁴ 28¹³),
but whether in the oldest parts of the document is not quite
certain.

Here we touch on a question of great importance, and one fortunately capable of being brought to a definite issue: viz., the relation of Yahwist and Elohist to the literary prophecy of the 8th and following centuries. It is usual to speak of the combined Jehovist as the _Prophetical_ narrative of the Pentateuch, in distinction from Priestly-Code, the _Priestly_ narrative; and in so far as the name is employed (as, _e.g._, by Driver _An Introduction to the Literature of the Old Testament_⁸, 117) to emphasise that contrast, it is sufficiently appropriate. As used, however, by many writers, it carries the implication that the documents――or that one to which the epithet is applied――show unmistakable traces of the influence of the later prophets from Amos downwards. That view seems to us entirely erroneous. It is undoubtedly the case that both Yahwist and Elohist are pervaded by ideas and convictions which they share in common with the writing prophets: such as, the monotheistic conception of God, the ethical view of His providential government, and perhaps a conscious opposition to certain emblems of popular cultus (asheras, maẓẓebas, teraphim, etc.). But that these and similar principles were first enunciated by the prophets of the 8th century, we have no reason to suppose. Nor does the fact that Abraham, as a man of God, is called _Nābî’_ (20⁷, compare Deuteronomy 34¹⁰) necessarily imply that the figure of an Amos or an Isaiah was before the mind of the writers. We must bear in mind that the 9th century witnessed a powerful prophetic movement which, commencing in Northern Israel, extended into Judah; and that any prophetic influences discoverable in Genesis are as likely to have come from the impulse of that movement as from the later development which is so much better known to us. But in truth it is questionable if any prophetic impulse at all, other than those inherent in the religion from its foundation by Moses, is necessary to account for the religious tone of the narratives of Genesis. The decisive fact is that the really distinctive ideas of written prophecy find no echo in those parts of Yahwist and Elohist with which we have to do. These are: the presentiment of the impending overthrow of the Israelitish nationality, together with the perception of its moral necessity, the polemic against foreign deities, the denunciation of prevalent oppression and social wrong, and the absolute repudiation of cultus as a means of recovering Yahwe’s favour. Not only are these conceptions absent from our documents, but it is difficult to conceive that they should have been in the air in the age when the documents were composed. For, though it is true that very different religious ideas may exist side by side in the same community, it is scarcely credible that Yahwist and Elohist could have maintained their confident hope for the future of the nation intact against the tremendous arraignment of prophecy. This consideration gains in force from the fact that the secondary strata of Elohist, and the redactional additions to Jehovist, which do come within the sweep of the later prophetic movement, clearly show that the circles from which these writings emanated were sensitively responsive to the sterner message of the prophets.

§ 10. _Date and place of origin――Redaction of Jehovist._

On the relative age of Yahwist and Elohist, there exists at present no consensus of critical opinion. Down to the appearance of Wellhausen’s _Geschichte Israels_ in 1878, scholars were practically unanimous in assigning the priority to Elohist.¹ Since then, the opposite view has been strongly maintained by the leading exponents of the Grafian theory,² although a number of critics still adhere to the older position.³ The reason for this divergence of opinion lies not in the paucity of points of comparison, but partly in the subjective nature of the evidence, and partly in the fact that such indications as exist point in opposite directions.

¹ Hupfeld, Schrader, Nöldeke, Reuss, al.

² Wellhausen, Kuenen, Stade, Meyer; so Luther, Procksch, al.

³ Dillmann, Kittel, König, Winckler al.

To take a few examples from Genesis: Chapter 16¹⁻¹⁴ (Yahwist)
produces an impression of greater antiquity than the parallel
21⁹⁻¹⁹ (Elohist); Yahwist’s explanation of the name Issachar,
with its story of the love-apples (30¹⁴⁻¹⁶), is more primitive
than that of Elohist (30¹⁷); Yahwist (30²⁸⁻⁴³) attributes the
increase of Jacob’s flocks to his own cunning, whereas Elohist
(31⁴⁻¹³) attributes it to the divine blessing. On the other hand,
Elohist’s recension of the Bethel-theophany (28¹¹ ᶠᶠᐧ ¹⁷ ᶠᶠᐧ) is
obviously more antique than Yahwist’s (¹³⁻¹⁶); and in the Joseph
narratives the leadership of Reuben (Elohist) is an element
of the original tradition which Yahwist has altered in favour
of Judah. A peculiarly instructive case is 12¹⁰ ᶠᶠ (Yahwist)
∥ 20 (Elohist) ∥ 26⁷ ᶠᶠᐧ (Yahwist), where it seems to us (though
Kuenen and others take a different view) that Gunkel is clearly
right in holding that Yahwist has preserved both the oldest and
the youngest form of the legend, and that Elohist represents an
intermediate stage.

This result is not surprising when we understand that Yahwist and Elohist are not individual writers, but guilds or schools, whose literary activity may have extended over several generations, and who drew on a store of unwritten tradition which had been in process of codification for generations before that. This consideration forbids us also to argue too confidently from observed differences of theological standpoint between the two documents. It is beyond doubt that Elohist, with its comparative freedom from anthropomorphisms and sensible theophanies, with its more spiritual conception of revelation, and its greater sensitiveness to ethical blemishes on the character of the patriarchs (page xlviii), occupies, on the whole, a higher level of reflexion than Yahwist; but we cannot tell how far such differences are due to the general social _milieu_ in which the writers lived, and how far to esoteric tendencies of the circles to which they belonged. All that can safely be affirmed is that, while Elohist has occasionally preserved the more ancient form of the tradition, there is a strong presumption that Yahwist as a whole is the earlier document.

In attempting to determine the absolute dates of Yahwist and Elohist, we have a fixed point of departure in the fact that both are earlier than the age of written prophecy (page li f.); in other words, 750 B.C. is the _terminus ad quem_ for the composition of either. If it be the case that 37⁸ in Elohist presupposes the monarchy of the house of Joseph, the _terminus a quo_ for that document would be the disruption of the kingdom, _circa_ 930 (compare Deuteronomy 33⁷); and indeed no one proposes to fix it higher. Between these limits, there is little to guide us to a more precise determination. General considerations, such as the tone of political feeling, the advanced conception of God, and traces of the influence of 9th-century prophecy, seem to us to point to the later part of the period, and in particular to the brilliant reign of Jeroboam II. (785‒745), as the most likely time of composition.¹ In Yahwist there is no unequivocal allusion to the divided kingdom; and nothing absolutely prevents us from putting its date as early as the reign of Solomon. The sense of national solidarity and of confidence in Israel’s destiny is even more marked than in Elohist; and it has been questioned, not without reason, whether such feelings could have animated the breast of a Judæan in the dark days that followed the dissolution of Solomon’s empire.² That argument is not greatly to be trusted: although the loss of the northern provinces was keenly felt in Judah (Isaiah 7¹⁷), yet the writings of Isaiah show that there was plenty of flamboyant patriotism there in the 8th century, and we cannot tell how far in the intervening period religious idealism was able to overcome the depression natural to a feeble and dependent state, and keep alive the sense of unity and the hope of reunion with the larger Israel of the north. In any case, it is improbable that Yahwist and Elohist are separated by an interval of two centuries; if Elohist belongs to the first half of the 8th century, Yahwist will hardly be earlier than the 9th.³

¹ So Procksch (178 ff.), who points out a number of indications
that appear to converge on that period of history.
Wellhausen, Kuenen, Stade, Holzinger agree; Reuss, Dillmann,
Kittel place it in the 9th century.

² Procksch. 286 ff.

³ So Wellhausen, Kuenen, Stade, Kittel, Gunkel al.

Specific historical allusions which have been thought to
indicate a more definite date for Yahwist (or Elohist) prove
on examination to be unreliable. If 31⁴⁴ ᶠᶠᐧ 49²³ ᶠᶠᐧ contained
references to the wars between Israel and Aram under Omri and
his successors, it would be necessary to bring the date of
both documents down to that time; but Gunkel has shown that
interpretation to be improbable.――27⁴⁰ᵇ presupposes the revolt
of Edom from Judah (_circa_ 840); but that prosaic half-verse is
probably an addition to the poetic passage in which it occurs,
and therefore goes to show that the blessing itself is earlier,
instead of later, than the middle of the 9th century.――The curse
on Canaan (9²³ ᶠᶠᐧ) does not necessarily assume the definite
subjugation of the Canaanites by Israel; and if it did, would
only prove a date not earlier than Solomon.――Other arguments,
such as the omission of Asshur and the inclusion of Kelaḥ and
Nineveh in the list of Assyrian cities in 10¹¹ etc., are still
less conclusive.

While it is thus impossible to assign a definite date to Yahwist and Elohist, there are fairly solid grounds for the now generally accepted view that the former is of Judæan and the latter of Ephraimite origin. Only, it must be premised that the body of patriarchal tradition which lies behind both documents is native to northern, or rather central, Israel, and must have taken shape there.¹ The favourite wife of Jacob is not Leah but Rachel, the mother of Joseph (Ephraim-Manasseh) and Benjamin; and Joseph himself is the brightest figure in all the patriarchal gallery. The sacred places common to both recensions――Shechem, Bethel, Mahanaim, Peniel, Beersheba――are, except the last, all in Israelite territory; and Beersheba, though belonging geographically to Judah, was for some unknown reason a favourite resort of pilgrims from the northern kingdom (Amos 5⁵ 8¹⁴, 1 Kings 19³).――It is when we look at the divergence between the two sources that the evidence of the Ephraimite origin of Elohist and the Judæan of Yahwist becomes consistent and clear. Whereas Elohist never evinces the slightest interest in any sanctuary except those mentioned above, Yahwist makes Hebron the scene of his most remarkable theophany, and thus indelibly associates its sanctity with the name of Abraham. It is true that he also ascribes to Abraham the founding of the northern sanctuaries, Shechem and Bethel (12⁷ᐧ ⁸); but we can hardly fail to detect something perfunctory in his description, as compared with Elohist’s impressive narrative of Jacob’s dream at Bethel (28¹⁰⁻¹²ᐧ ¹⁷⁻²²), or his own twofold account of the founding of Beersheba (chapters 21. 26). It is Elohist alone who records the place of Rachel’s grave (35¹⁹), of those of Rebekah’s nurse Deborah (⁸), of Joseph (Joshua 24³²), and Joshua (³⁰),――all in the northern territory. The sections peculiar to Yahwist (page xliii) are nearly all of local Judæan interest: in 18 the scene is Hebron; 19¹⁻²⁸ is a legend of the Dead Sea basin; 19³⁰ ᶠᶠᐧ deals with the origin of the neighbouring peoples of Moab and Ammon; 38 is based on the internal tribal history of Judah (and is not, as has been supposed, charged with animosity towards that tribe: see page 455). Finally, while Joseph’s place of honour was too firmly established to be challenged, it is Yahwist who, in defiance of the older tradition, transfers the birthright and the hegemony from Reuben to Judah (49⁸ ᶠᶠᐧ 35²² ᶠᐧ, the Joseph narratives).――These indications make it at least relatively probable that in Yahwist we have a Judæan recension of the patriarchal tradition, while Elohist took its shape in the northern kingdom.

¹ Wellhausen _Prolegomena zur Geschichte Israels_⁶ 317. It is
the neglect of this fact that has mainly led to the belief
that Yahwist, like Elohist, is of Ephraimite origin (Kuenen,
Reuss, Schrader, Fripp, Luther, al.).

The composite work Jehovist is the result of a redactional operation, which was completed before the other components (♦D and Priestly-Code) were incorporated in the Pentateuch.¹ The redactors (Redactorᴶᵉʰᵒᵛⁱˢᵗ) have done their work (in Genesis) with consummate skill and care, and have produced a consecutive narrative whose strands it is often difficult to unravel. They have left traces of their hand in a few harmonising touches, designed to remove a discrepancy between Yahwist and Elohist (16⁹ ᶠᐧ 28²¹ᵇ? 31⁴⁹ ᶠᶠᐧ ⁽ᵖᵃˢˢⁱᵐ⁾ 39¹ 41⁵⁰? 46¹ 50¹⁰ ᶠᐧ): some of these, however, may be later glosses. Of greater interest are a number of short additions, of similar import and complexion but occurring both in Yahwist and Elohist, which may, not with certainty but with great probability, be assigned to these editors (13¹⁴⁻¹⁷ 18¹⁷⁻¹⁹ 22¹⁵⁻¹⁸ 26³ᵇ⁻⁵ 28¹⁴ 32¹⁰⁻¹³ 46³ᵇ{β}): to this redaction we are disposed also to attribute a thorough revision of chapter 15. In these passages we seem to detect a note of tremulous anxiety regarding the national future of Israel and its tenure of the land of Canaan, which is at variance with the optimistic outlook of the original sources, and suggests that the writers are living under the shadow of impending exile. A slight trace of Deuteronomic phraseology in 18¹⁷ ᶠᶠᐧ and 26³ᵇ ᶠᶠᐧ confirms the impression that the redaction took place at some time between the publication of Deuteronomy and the Exile.

♦ Abbreviation “D” undefined in forward or text; probably
Deuteronomy.

¹ So Nöldeke, Wellhausen, and most; against Hupfeld, Dillmann,
al.

§ 11. _The Priestly Code and the Final Redaction._

It is fortunately not necessary to discuss in this place all the intricate questions connected with the history and structure of the Priests’ Code. The Code as a whole is, even more obviously than Yahwist or Elohist, the production of a school,――in this case a school of juristic writers, whose main task was to systematise the mass of ritual regulations which had accumulated in the hands of the Jerusalem priesthood, and to develop a theory of religion which grew out of them. Evidence of stratification appears chiefly in the legislative portions of the middle Pentateuch, where several minor codes are amalgamated, and overlaid with considerable accretions of later material. Here, however, we have to do only with the great historical work which forms at once the kernel of the Code and the framework of the Pentateuch, the document distinguished by Wellhausen as Q (_Quatuor foederum liber_), by Kuenen as Priestly-Code², by others as Priestly-Codeᴷᵉʳⁿᵉˡ.¹ Although this groundwork shows traces of compilation from pre-existing material (see pages 8, 35, 40, 130, 169, 428 f., etc.), it nevertheless bears the impress of a single mind, and must be treated as a unity.

¹ Kuenen’s Priestly-Code¹ is the so-called Law of Holiness
(Priestly-Codeʰ), which is older than the date usually
assigned to Priestly-Codeᴷᵉʳⁿᵉˡ.