'This is all that remains of the existence of Quiche; for it is

impossible to see the book in which formerly the kings could read

everything, as it has disappeared. It is over with all those of

Quiche! It is now called Santa-Cruz!'

_March, 1862._

XV.

SEMITIC MONOTHEISM.[100]

A work such as M. Renan's 'Histoire Generale et Systeme Compare des

Langues Semitiques' can only be reviewed chapter by chapter. It

contains a survey not only, as its title would lead us to suppose, of

the Semitic languages, but of the Semitic languages and nations; and,

considering that the whole history of the civilised world has hitherto

been acted by two races only, the Semitic and the Aryan, with

occasional interruptions produced by the inroads of the Turanian race,

M. Renan's work comprehends in reality half of the history of the

ancient world. We have received as yet the first volume only of this

important work, and before the author had time to finish the second,

he was called upon to publish a second edition of the first, which

appeared in 1858, with important additions and alterations.

[Footnote 100: 'Histoire Generale et Systeme Compare des Langues

Semitiques.' Par Ernest Renan, Membre de l'Institut. Seconde edition,

Paris, 1858.

'Nouvelles Considerations sur le Caractere General des Peuples

Semitiques, et en particulier sur leur Tendance au Monotheisme,' Par

Ernest Renan. Paris, 1859.]

In writing the history of the Semitic race it is necessary to lay down

certain general characteristics common to all the members of that

race, before we can speak of nations so widely separated from each

other as the Jews, the Babylonians, Phenicians, Carthaginians, and

Arabs, as one race or family. The most important bond which binds

these scattered tribes together into one ideal whole is to be found in

their language. There can be as little doubt that the dialects of all

the Semitic nations are derived from one common type as there is about

the derivation of French, Spanish, and Italian from Latin, or of

Latin, Greek, German, Celtic, Slavonic, and Sanskrit from the

primitive idiom of the ancestors of the Aryan race. The evidence of

language would by itself be quite sufficient to establish the fact

that the Semitic nations descended from common ancestors, and

constitute what, in the science of language, may be called a distinct

race. But M. Renan was not satisfied with this single criterion of the

relationship of the Semitic tribes, and he has endeavoured to draw,

partly from his own observations, partly from the suggestions of other

scholars, such as Ewald and Lassen, a more complete portrait of the

Semitic man. This was no easy task. It was like drawing the portrait

of a whole family, omitting all that is peculiar to each individual

member, and yet preserving the features which, constitute the general

family likeness. The result has been what might be expected. Critics

most familiar with one or the other branch of the Semitic family have

each and all protested that they can see no likeness in the portrait.

It seems to some to contain features which it ought not to contain,

whereas others miss the very expression which appears to them most

striking.

The following is a short abstract of what M. Renan considers the

salient points in the Semitic character:

'Their character,' he says, 'is religious rather than political, and

the mainspring of their religion is the conception of the unity of

God. Their religious phraseology is simple, and free from mythological

elements. Their religious feelings are strong, exclusive, intolerant,

and sustained by a fervour which finds its peculiar expression in

prophetic visions. Compared to the Aryan nations, they are found

deficient in scientific and philosophical originality. Their poetry is

chiefly subjective or lyrical, and we look in vain among their poets

for excellence in epic and dramatic compositions. Painting and the

plastic arts have never arrived at a higher than the decorative stage.

Their political life has remained patriarchal and despotic, and their

inability to organise on a large scale has deprived them of the means

of military success. Perhaps the most general feature of their

character is a negative one,--their inability to perceive the general

and the abstract, whether in thought, language, religion, poetry, or

politics; and, on the other hand, a strong attraction towards the

individual and personal, which makes them monotheistic in religion,

lyrical in poetry, monarchical in politics, abrupt in style, and

impractical for speculation.'

One cannot look at this bold and rapid outline of the Semitic

character without perceiving how many points it contains which are

open to doubt and discussion. We shall confine our remarks to one

point, which, in our mind, and, as far as we can see, in M. Renan's

mind likewise, is the most important of all--namely, the supposed

monotheistic tendency of the Semitic race. M. Renan asserts that this

tendency belongs to the race by instinct,--that it forms the rule, not

the exception; and he seems to imply that without it the human race

would never have arrived at the knowledge or worship of the One God.

If such a remark had been made fifty years ago, it would have roused

little or no opposition. 'Semitic' was then used in a more restricted

sense, and hardly comprehended more than the Jews and Arabs. Of this

small group of people it might well have been said, with such

limitations as are tacitly implied in every general proposition on the

character of individuals or nations, that the work set apart for them

by a Divine Providence in the history of the world was the preaching

of a belief in one God. Three religions have been founded by members

of that more circumscribed Semitic family--the Jewish, the Christian,

the Mohammedan; and all three proclaim, with the strongest accent, the

doctrine that there is but one God.

Of late, however, not only have the limits of the Semitic family been

considerably extended, so as to embrace several nations notorious for

their idolatrous worship, but the history of the Jewish and Arab

tribes has been explored so much more fully, that even there traces of

a wide-spread tendency to polytheism have come to light.

The Semitic family is divided by M. Renan into two great branches,

differing from each other in the form of their monotheistic belief,

yet both, according to their historian, imbued from the beginning with

the instinctive faith in one God:

1. The nomad branch, consisting of Arabs, Hebrews, and the

neighbouring tribes of Palestine, commonly called the descendants of

Terah; and

2. The political branch, including the nations of Phenicia, of Syria,

Mesopotamia, and Yemen.

Can it be said that all these nations, comprising the worshippers of

Elohim, Jehovah, Sabaoth, Moloch, Nisroch, Rimmon, Nebo, Dagon,

Ashtaroth, Baal or Bel, Baal-peor, Baal-zebub, Chemosh, Milcom,

Adrammelech, Annamelech, Nibhaz and Tartak, Ashima, Nergal,

Succoth-benoth, the Sun, Moon, planets, and all the host of heaven,

were endowed with a monotheistic instinct? M. Renan admits that

monotheism has always had its principal bulwark in the nomadic branch,

but he maintains that it has by no means been so unknown among the

members of the political branch as is commonly supposed. But where are

the criteria by which, in the same manner as their dialects, the

religions of the Semitic races could be distinguished from the

religions of the Aryan and Turanian races? We can recognise any

Semitic dialect by the triliteral character of its roots. Is it

possible to discover similar radical elements in all the forms of

faith, primary or secondary, primitive or derivative, of the Semitic

tribes? M. Renan thinks that it is. He imagines that he hears the

key-note of a pure monotheism through all the wild shoutings of the

priests of Baal and other Semitic idols, and he denies the presence of

that key-note in any of the religious systems of the Aryan nations,

whether Greeks or Romans, Germans or Celts, Hindus or Persians. Such

an assertion could not but rouse considerable opposition, and so

strong seems to have been the remonstrances addressed to M. Renan by

several of his colleagues in the French Institute that, without

awaiting the publication of the second volume of his great work, he

has thought it right to publish part of it as a separate pamphlet. In

his 'Nouvelles Considerations sur le Caractere General des Peuples

Semitiques, et en particulier sur leur Tendance au Monotheisme,' he

endeavours to silence the objections raised against the leading idea

of his history of the Semitic race. It is an essay which exhibits not

only the comprehensive knowledge of the scholar, but the warmth and

alacrity of the advocate. With M. Renan the monotheistic character of

the descendants of Shem is not only a scientific tenet, but a moral

conviction. He wishes that his whole work should stand or fall with

this thesis, and it becomes, therefore, all the more the duty of the

critic, to inquire whether the arguments which he brings forward in

support of his favourite idea are valid or not.

It is but fair to M. Renan that, in examining his statements, we

should pay particular attention to any slight modifications which he

may himself have adopted in his last memoir. In his history he asserts

with great confidence, and somewhat broadly, that 'le monotheisme

resume et explique tous les caracteres de la race Semitique.' In his

later pamphlet he is more captious. As an experienced pleader he is

ready to make many concessions in order to gain all the more readily

our assent to his general proposition. He points out himself with

great candour the weaker points of his argument, though, of course,

only in order to return with unabated courage to his first

position,--that of all the races of mankind the Semitic race alone was

endowed with the instinct of monotheism. As it is impossible to deny

the fact that the Semitic nations, in spite of this supposed

monotheistic instinct, were frequently addicted to the most degraded

forms of a polytheistic idolatry, and that even the Jews, the most

monotheistic of all, frequently provoked the anger of the Lord by

burning incense to other gods, M. Renan remarks that when he speaks of

a nation in general he only speaks of the intellectual aristocracy of

that nation. He appeals in self-defence to the manner in which

historians lay down the character of modern nations. 'The French,' he

says, 'are repeatedly called "_une nation spirituelle_," and yet no

one would wish to assert either that every Frenchman is _spirituel_,

or that no one could be _spirituel_ who is not a Frenchman.' Now, here

we may grant to M. Renan that if we speak of '_esprit_' we naturally

think of the intellectual minority only, and not of the whole bulk of

a nation; but if we speak of religion, the case is different. If we

say that the French believe in one God only, or that they are

Christians, we speak not only of the intellectual aristocracy of

France but of every man, woman, and child born and bred in France.

Even if we say that the French are Roman Catholics, we do so only

because we know that there is a decided majority in France in favour

of the unreformed system of Christianity. But if, because some of the

most distinguished writers of France have paraded their contempt for

all religious dogmas, we were to say broadly that the French are a

nation without religion, we should justly be called to order for

abusing the legitimate privileges of generalization. The fact that

Abraham, Moses, Elijah, and Jeremiah were firm believers in one God

could not be considered sufficient to support the general proposition

that the Jewish nation was monotheistic by instinct. And if we

remember that among the other Semitic races we should look in vain for

even four such names, the case would seem to be desperate to any one

but M. Renan.

We cannot believe that M. Renan would be satisfied with the admission

that there had been among the Jews a few leading men who believed in

one God, or that the existence of but one God was an article of faith

not quite unknown among the other Semitic races; yet he has hardly

proved more. He has collected, with great learning and ingenuity, all

traces of monotheism in the annals of the Semitic nations; but he has

taken no pains to discover the traces of polytheism, whether faint or

distinct, which are disclosed in the same annals. In acting the part

of an advocate he has for a time divested himself of the nobler

character of the historian.

If M. Renan had looked with equal zeal for the scattered vestiges both

of a monotheistic and of a polytheistic worship, he would have drawn,

perhaps, a less striking, but we believe a more faithful, portrait of

the Semitic man. We may accept all the facts of M. Renan, for his

facts are almost always to be trusted; but we cannot accept his

conclusions, because they would be in contradiction to other facts

which M. Renan places too much in the background, or ignores

altogether. Besides, there is something in the very conclusions to

which he is driven by his too partial evidence which jars on our ears,

and betrays a want of harmony in the premises on which he builds.

Taking his stand on the fact that the Jewish race was the first of all

the nations of the world to arrive at the knowledge of one God, M.

Renan proceeds to argue that, if their monotheism had been the result

of a persevering mental effort--if it had been a discovery like the

philosophical or scientific discoveries of the Greeks, it would be

necessary to admit that the Jews surpassed all other nations of the

world in intellect and vigour of speculation. This, he admits, is

contrary to fact:

'Apart la superiorite de son culte, le peuple juif n'en a

aucune autre; c'est un des peuples les moins doues pour la

science et la philosophie parmi les peuples de l'antiquite;

il n'a une grande position ni politique ni militaire. Ses

institutions sont purement conservatrices; les prophetes,

qui representent excellemment son genie, sont des hommes

essentiellement reactionnaires, se reportant toujours vers

un ideal anterieur. Comment expliquer, au sein d'une societe

aussi etroite et aussi peu developpee, une revolution

d'idees qu'Athenes et Alexandrie n'ont pas reussi a

accomplir?'

M. Renan then defines the monotheism of the Jews, and of the Semitic

nations in general, as the result of a low, rather than of a high

state of intellectual cultivation: 'Il s'en faut,' he writes (p. 40),

'que le monotheisme soit le produit d'une race qui a des idees

exaltees en fait de religion; c'est en realite le fruit d'une race qui

a peu de besoins religieux. C'est comme _minimum_ de religion, en fait

de dogmes et en fait de pratiques exterieures, que le monotheisme est

surtout accommode aux besoins des populations nomades.'

But even this _minimum_ of religious reflection which is required,

according to M. Renan, for the perception of the unity of God, he

grudges to the Semitic nations, and he is driven in the end (p. 73)

to explain the Semitic Monotheism as the result of a religious

instinct, analogous to the instinct which led each race to the

formation of its own language.

Here we miss the usual clearness and precision which distinguish most

of M. Renan's works. It is always dangerous to transfer expressions

from one branch of knowledge to another. The word 'instinct' has its

legitimate application in natural history, where it is used of the

unconscious acts of unconscious beings. We say that birds build their

nests by instinct, that fishes swim by instinct, that cats catch mice

by instinct; and, though no natural philosopher has yet explained what

instinct is, yet we accept the term as a conventional expression for

an unknown power working in the animal world.

If we transfer this word to the unconscious acts of conscious beings,

we must necessarily alter its definition. We may speak of an

instinctive motion of the arm, but we only mean a motion which has

become so habitual as to require no longer any special effort of the

will.

If, however, we transfer the word to the conscious thoughts of

conscious beings, we strain the word beyond its natural capacities, we

use it in order to avoid other terms which would commit us to the

admission either of innate ideas or inspired truths. We use a word in

order to avoid a definition. It may sound more scientific to speak of

a monotheistic instinct rather than of the inborn image or the

revealed truth of the One living God; but is instinct less mysterious

than revelation? Can there be an instinct without an instigation or an

instigator? And whose hand was it that instigated the Semitic mind to

the worship of one God? Could the same hand have instigated the Aryan

mind to the worship of many gods? Could the monotheistic instinct of

the Semitic race, if an instinct, have been so frequently obscured, or

the polytheistic instinct of the Aryan race, if an instinct, so

completely annihilated, as to allow the Jews to worship on all the

high places round Jerusalem, and the Greeks and Romans to become

believers in Christ? Fishes never fly, and cats never catch frogs.

These are the difficulties into which we are led; and they arise

simply and solely from our using words for their sound rather than for

their meaning. We begin by playing with words, but in the end the

words will play with us.

There are, in fact, various kinds of monotheism, and it becomes our

duty to examine more carefully what they mean and how they arise.

There is one kind of monotheism, though it would more properly be

called theism, or henotheism, which forms the birthright of every

human being. What distinguishes man from all other creatures, and not

only raises him above the animal world, but removes him altogether

from the confines of a merely natural existence, is the feeling of

sonship inherent in and inseparable from human nature. That feeling

may find expression in a thousand ways, but there breathes through all

of them the inextinguishable conviction, 'It is He that hath made us,

and not we ourselves.' That feeling of sonship may with some races

manifest itself in fear and trembling, and it may drive whole

generations into religious madness and devil worship. In other

countries it may tempt the creature into a fatal familiarity with the

Creator, and end in an apotheosis of man, or a headlong plunging of

the human into the divine. It may take, as with the Jews, the form of

a simple assertion that 'Adam was the son of God,' or it may be

clothed in the mythological phraseology of the Hindus, that Manu, or

man, was the descendant of Svayambhu, the Self-existing. But, in some

form or other, the feeling of dependence on a higher Power breaks

through in all the religions of the world, and explains to us the

meaning of St. Paul, 'that God, though in times past He suffered all

nations to walk in their own ways, nevertheless He left not Himself

without witness, in that He did good and gave us rain from heaven, and

fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness.'

This primitive intuition of God and the ineradicable feeling of

dependence on God, could only have been the result of a primitive

revelation, in the truest sense of that word. Man, who owed his

existence to God, and whose being centred and rested in God, saw and

felt God as the only source of his own and of all other existence. By

the very act of the creation, God had revealed Himself. There He was,

manifested in His works, in all His majesty and power, before the face

of those to whom He had given eyes to see and ears to hear, and into

whose nostrils He had breathed the breath of life, even the Spirit of

God.

This primitive intuition of God, however, was in itself neither

monotheistic nor polytheistic, though it might become either,

according to the expression which it took in the languages of man. It

was this primitive intuition which supplied either the subject or the

predicate in all the religions of the world, and without it no

religion, whether true or false, whether revealed or natural, could

have had even its first beginning. It is too often forgotten by those

who believe that a polytheistic worship was the most natural

unfolding of religious life, that polytheism must everywhere have been

preceded by a more or less conscious theism. In no language does the

plural exist before the singular. No human mind could have conceived

the idea of gods without having previously conceived the idea of a

god. It would be, however, quite as great a mistake to imagine,

because the idea of a god must exist previously to that of gods, that

therefore a belief in One God preceded everywhere the belief in many

gods. A belief in God as exclusively One, involves a distinct negation

of more than one God, and that negation is possible only after the

conception, whether real or imaginary, of many gods.

The primitive intuition of the Godhead is neither monotheistic nor

polytheistic, and it finds its most natural expression in the simplest

and yet the most important article of faith--that God is God. This

must have been the faith of the ancestors of mankind previously to any

division of race or confusion of tongues. It might seem, indeed, as if

in such a faith the oneness of God, though not expressly asserted, was

implied, and that it existed, though latent, in the first revelation

of God. History, however, proves that the question of oneness was yet

undecided in that primitive faith, and that the intuition of God was

not yet secured against the illusions of a double vision. There are,

in reality, two kinds of oneness which, when we enter into

metaphysical discussions, must be carefully distinguished, and which

for practical purposes are well kept separate by the definite and

indefinite articles. There is one kind of oneness which does not

exclude the idea of plurality; there is another which does. When we

say that Cromwell was a Protector of England, we do not assert that he

was the only protector. But if we say that he was the Protector of

England, it is understood that he was the only man who enjoyed that

title. If, therefore, an expression had been given to that primitive

intuition of the Deity, which is the mainspring of all later religion,

it would have been--'There is a God,' but not yet 'There is but "One

God."' The latter form of faith, the belief in One God, is properly

called monotheism, whereas the term of henotheism would best express

the faith in a single god.

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