impelling force of morality, but itself furnishes the creative impulse,
the supreme commanding authority' (_Ethics of Judaism_, I. chap,
ii.). And so the Rabbi of the third century B.C., Antigonos of Socho, put
it in the memorable saying: 'Be not like servants who minister to their
master upon the condition of receiving a reward; but be like servants
who minister to their master without the condition of receiving a reward;
and let the Fear of heaven be upon you' (Aboth, i. 3).

Clearly the multiplication of rules obscures principles. The object of
codification, to get at the full meaning of principles, is defeated by
its own success. For it is always easier to follow rules than to apply
principles. Virtues are more attainable than virtue, characteristics than
character. And while it is false to assert that Judaism attached more
importance to ritual than to religion, yet, the two being placed on one
and the same plane, it is possible to find in co-existence ritual piety
and moral baseness. Such a combination is ugly, and people do not stop
to think whether the baseness would be more or less if the ritual piety
were absent instead of present. But it is the fact that on the whole
the Jewish codification of religion did not produce the evil results
possible or even likely to accrue. The Jew was always distinguished for
his domestic virtues, his purity of life, his sobriety, his charity,
his devotion. These were the immediate consequence of his Law-abiding
disposition and theory. Perhaps there was some lack of enthusiasm,
something too much of the temperate. But the facts of life always
brought their corrective. Martyrdom was the means by which the Jewish
consciousness was kept at a glowing heat. And as the Jew was constantly
called upon to die for his religion, the religion ennobled the life
which was willingly surrendered for the religion. The Messianic Hope
was vitalised by persecution. The Jew, devotee of practical ideals,
became also a dreamer. His visions of God were ever present to remind