caused no trouble to the Jew so long as those contradictions could be
fitted into his general scheme of life. Though he was the product of
development, development was an idea foreign to his conception of the
ways of God with man. And to this extent he was right. For though men's
ideas of God change, God Himself is changeless. The Jew transferred the
changelessness of God to men's changing ideas about him. With childlike
naivete he accepted all, he adopted all, and he syncretised it all as best
he could into the loose system on which Pharisaism grafted itself. The
legacy of the past thus was the past.

One element in the legacy was negative. The Temple and the Sacrificial
system were gone for ever. That this must have powerfully affected
Judaism goes without saying. Synagogue replaced Temple, prayer assumed
the function of sacrifice, penitence and not the blood of bulls supplied
the ritual of atonement. Events had prepared the way for this change and
had prevented it attaining the character of an upheaval. For synagogues
had grown up all over the land soon after the fifth century B.C.; regular
services of prayer with instruction in the Scriptures had been established
long before the Christian Era; the inward atonement had been preferred
to, or at least associated with, the outward rite before the outward
rite was torn away. It may be that, as Professor Burkitt has suggested,
the awful experiences of the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the
Temple produced within Pharisaism a moral reformation which drove the Jew
within and thus spiritualised Judaism. For undoubtedly the Pharisee of the
Gospels is by no means the Pharisee as we meet him in the Jewish books.
There was always a latent power and tendency in Judaism towards inward
religion; and it may be that this power was intensified, this tendency
encouraged, by the loss of Temple and its Sacrificial rites.

But though the Temple had gone the Covenant remained. Not so much in