All this appears to be derived from some incoherent speculations of Stade.

For example, that learned German cites the story of Micah as a proof that

the different tribes or clans had different religions. This _must_ be so,

because the Danites asked the young Levite whether it was not better to be

priest to a clan than to an individual? It is as if a patron offered a

rich living to somebody's private chaplain, saying that the new position

was more creditable and lucrative. This would hardly prove a difference of

religion between the individual and the parish.[14]

Mr. Oxford next avers that 'the earliest form of the Israelite religion

was Fetishism or Totemism.' This is another example of Stade's logic.

Finding, as he believes, names suggestive of Totemism in Simeon, Levi,

Rachel, and so on, Stade leaps to the conclusion that Totemism in Israel

was prior to anything resembling monotheism. For monotheism, he argues,

could not give the germs of the clan or tribal organisation, while Totemism

could do so. Certainly it could, but as, in many regions (America,

Australia), we find Totemism and the belief in a benevolent Supreme Being

co-existing among savages, when first observed by Europeans, we cannot

possibly say dogmatically whether a rough monotheism or whether Totemism

came first in order of evolution. This holds as good of Israel (if once

totemistic) as it does of Pawnees or Kurnai. Stade has overlooked these

well-known facts, and his opinion filters into a cheap hand-book, and is

set in examinations![15]

We also learn from Mr. Oxford's popular manual of German Biblical

conjecture that 'Jehovah was not represented as a loving Father, but as a

Being easily roused to wrath,' a thing most incident to loving fathers.

Again, Mr. Oxford avers that 'the old Israelites knew no distinction

between physical and moral evil.... The conception of Jehovah's holiness

had nothing moral in it' (p. 90). This rather contradicts Wellhausen: 'In

all ancient primitive peoples ... religion furnishes a motive for law and

morals; in the case of none did it become so with such purity and power as

in that of the Israelites.'[16]

We began by examining Mr. Huxley's endeavours to find traces of

ancestor-worship (in his opinion the origin of Jehovah-worship) among the

Israelites. We next criticised Mr. Spencer's efforts in the same quest,

and the more dogmatic assertions of Mr. Oxford and Stade. We now return to

Mr. Huxley's account of the evolution from ghost-cult to the cult of

Jehovah.

From the history of the Witch of Endor, which Mr. Huxley sees no reason to

regard as other than a sincere statement of what really occurred, he

gathers that the Witch cried out, 'I see Elohim.' These Elohim proved to

be the phantasm of the dead Samuel. Moved by this hallucination the Witch

uttered a veridical premonition, totally adverse to her own interests, and

uncommonly dangerous to her life. This is, psychically, interesting.

The point, however, is that _Elohim_ is a term equivalent to Red

Indian _Wakan_, Fijian _Kahu_, Maori or Melanesian _Mana_, meaning the

'supernatural,' the vaguely powerful--in fact X. This particular example

of _Elohim_ was a phantasm of the dead, but _Elohim_ is also used of the

highest Divine Being, therefore the highest Divine Being is of the same

genus as a ghost--so Mr. Huxley reasons. 'The difference which was

supposed to exist between the different Elohim was one of degree, not of

kind.'[17]

'If Jehovah was thus supposed to differ only in degree from the

undoubtedly zoomorphic or anthropomorphic "gods of the nations," why is it

to be assumed that he also was not thought to have a human shape?' He

_was_ thought to have a human shape, at one time, by some theorists: no

doubt exists on that head. That, however, is not where we demur. We demur

when, because an hallucination of the Witch of Endor (probably still

incompletely developed) is called by her _Elohim_, therefore the highest

_Elohim_ is said by Mr. Huxley to differ from a ghost only in degree, not

in kind. _Elohim_, or _El_, the creative, differs from a ghost in kind,

because he, in Hebrew belief, never was a ghost, he is immortal and

without beginning.

Mr. Huxley now enforces his theory by a parallel between the religion of

Tonga and the religion of Israel under the Judges. He quotes Mariner,[18]

whose statement avers that there is a supreme Tongan being: 'of his

origin they had no idea, rather supposing him to be eternal. His name is

Tá-li-y-Tooboo = "Wait-there-Tooboo."' 'He is a great chief from the top

of the sky down to the bottom of the earth.' He, and other '_original_

gods' of his making, are carefully and absolutely discriminated from the

_atua_, which are 'the human soul after its separation from the body.' All

Tongan gods are _atua_ (_Elohim_), but all _atua_ are not 'original gods,'

unserved by priests, and unpropitiated by food or libation, like the

highest God, Tá-li-y-Tooboo, the Eternal of Tonga. 'He occasionally

inspires the How' (elective King), but often a How is not inspired at all

by Tá-li-y-Tooboo, any more than Saul, at last, was inspired by Jehovah.

Surely there is a difference _in kind_ between an eternal, immortal God,

and a ghost, though both are _atua_, or both are _Elohim_--the unknown X.

Many people call a ghost 'supernatural;' they also call God

'supernatural,' but the difference between a phantasm of a dead man and

the Deity they would admit, I conceive, to be a difference of kind. We

have shown, or tried to show, that the conceptions of 'ghost' and 'Supreme

Being' are different, not only in kind, but in origin. The ghost comes

from, and depends on, the animistic theory; the Supreme Being, as

originally thought of, does not. All Gods are _Elohim, kalou, wakan_; all

_Elohim, kalou, wakan_ are not Gods.

A ghost-god should receive food or libation. Mr. Huxley says that

Tá-li-y-Tooboo did so. 'If the god, like Tá-li-y-Tooboo, had no priest,

then the chief place was left vacant, and was supposed to be occupied by

the god himself. _When the first cup of Kava was filled_, the mataboole

who acted as master of the ceremonies said, "Give it to your god," and it

was offered, though only as a matter of form.'[19]

This is incorrect. In the case of Tá-li-y-Tooboo _'there is no cup filled

for the god.'_[20] _'Before any cup is filled_ the man by the side of the

bowl says: "The Kava is in the cup"' (which it is not), 'and the mataboole

answers, "Give it to your god;"' but the Kava is _not_ in the cup, and the

Tongan Eternal receives no oblation.

The sacrifice, says Mr. Huxley, meant 'that the god was either a deified

ghost, or, at any rate, a being of like nature to these.'[21] But as

Tá-li-y-Tooboo had no sacrifice, contrary to Mr. Huxley's averment, he was

_not_ 'a deified ghost, or a being of like nature to these.' To the lower,

non-ghostly Tongan gods the animistic habit of sacrifice had been

extended, but not yet to the Supreme Being.

Ah, if Mr. Gladstone, or the Duke of Argyll, or some bishop had made a

misstatement of this kind, how Mr. Huxley would have crushed him! But it

is a mere error of careless reading, such as we all make daily.

It is manifest that we cannot prove Jehovah to be a ghost by the parallel

of a Tongan god, who, by ritual and by definition, was _not_ a ghost. The

proof therefore rests on the anthropomorphised pre-prophetic accounts, and

on the ritual, of Jehovah. But man naturally 'anthropises' his deities: he

does not thereby demonstrate that they were once ghosts.

As regards the sacrifices to Jehovah, the sweet savour which he was

supposed to enjoy (contrary to the opinion of the Prophets), these

sacrifices afford the best presumption that Jehovah was a ghost-god, or a

god constructed on ghostly lines.

But we have shown that among the lowest races neither are ghosts

worshipped by sacrifice, nor does the Supreme Being, Darumulun or Puluga,

receive food offerings. We have also instanced many Supreme Beings

of more advanced races, Ahone, and Dendid, and Nyankupon, who do not sniff

the savour of any offerings. If then (as in the case of Taa-roa), a

Supreme Being _does_ receive sacrifice, we may argue that a piece of

animistic ritual, not connected with the Supreme Being in Australia or

Andaman, not connected with his creed in Virginia or Africa (where

ghost-gods do receive sacrifice), may in other regions be transferred from

ghost-gods to the Supreme Being, who never was a ghost. There seems to

be nothing incredible or illogical in the theory of such transference.

On a God who never was a ghost men may come to confer sacrifices (which

are not made to Baiame and the rest) because, being in the habit of thus

propitiating one set of bodiless powers, men may not think it civil or

safe to leave another set of powers out. By his very nature, man must

clothe all gods with some human passions and attributes, unless, like a

large number of savages, he leaves his high God severely alone, and is the

slave of fetishes and spectres. But that practice makes against the

ghost-theory.

In the attempt to account thus, namely by transference, for the sacrifices

to Jehovah, we are met by a difficulty of our own making. If the

Israelites did not sacrifice to ancestors (as we have shown that there is

very scant reason for supposing that they did), how could they transfer to

Jehovah the rite which, by our hypothesis, they are not proved to have

offered to ancestors?

This is certainly a hard problem, harder (or perhaps easier) because we

know so very little of the early history of the Hebrews. According to

their own traditions, Israel had been in touch with all manner of races

much more advanced than themselves in material culture, and steeped in

highly developed polytheistic Animism. According to their history, the

Israelites 'went a-whoring' incorrigibly after strange gods. It is

impossible, perhaps, to disentangle the foreign and the native elements.

It may therefore be tentatively suggested that early Israel had its Ahone

in a Being perhaps not yet named Jehovah. Israel entertained, however,

perhaps by reason of 'nomadic habits,' only the scantiest concern about

ancestral ghosts. We then find an historical tradition of secular contact

between Israel and Egypt, from which Israel emerges with Jehovah for God,

and a system of sacrifices. Regarding Jehovah as a revived memory of

the moral Supreme Being whom Israel must have known in extremely remote

ages (unless Israel was less favoured than Australians, Bushmen, or

Andamanese), we might look on the sacrifices to him as an adaptation from

the practices of religion among races more settled than Israel, and more

civilised.[22]

Speculation on subjects so remote must be conjectural, but our suggestion

would, perhaps, account for sacrifices to Jehovah, paid by a race

which, by reason of 'nomadic habits,' was never much given to

ancestor-worship, but had been in contact with great sacrificing,

polytheistic civilisations. Mr. Huxley, however, while he seems to slur

the essential distinction between ghost-gods and the Eternal, grants,

later, that 'there are very few people(s?) without additional gods,

which cannot, with certainty, be accounted for as deified ancestors.'

Tá-li-y-Tooboo, of course, is one of these gods, as is Jehovah. Mr. Huxley

gives no theory of _how_ these gods came into belief, except the

suggestion that 'the polytheistic theology has become modified by the

selection of the cosmic or tribal god, as the only god to whom worship is

due on the part of that nation,' without prejudice to the right of other

nations to worship other gods.[23] This is 'monolatry,' and 'the ethical

code, often of a very high order, comes into closer relation with the

theological creed,' _why_, we are not informed. Nor do we learn out of

what polytheistic deities Jehovah was selected, nor for what reason. The

hypothesis, as usual, breaks down on the close relation between the

ethical code and the theological creed, among low savages, with a

relatively Supreme Being, but without ancestor-worship, and without

polytheistic gods from whom to select a heavenly chief.

Whence came the moral element in the idea of Jehovah? Mr. Huxley supposes

that, during their residence in the land of Goshen (and _a fortiori_

before it), the Israelites 'knew nothing of Jehovah.'[24] They were

polytheistic idolaters. This follows, apparently, from Ezekiel xx. 5:

'In the day when I chose Israel, and lifted up mine hand unto the seed of

the house of Jacob, _and made myself known unto them_ in the land of

Egypt.' The Biblical account is that the God of Moses's fathers, the God

of Abraham, enlightened Moses in Sinai, giving his name as 'I am that I

am' (Exodus iii. 6, 14; translation uncertain). We are to understand that

Moses, a religious reformer, revived an old, and, in the Egyptian bondage,

a half-obliterated creed of the ancient nomadic Beni-Israel. They were no

longer to 'defile themselves with the idols of Egypt,' as they had

obviously done. We really know no more about the matter. Wellhausen says

that Jehovah was 'originally a family or tribal god, either of the family

of Moses or of the tribe of Joseph.' How a family could develop a Supreme

Being all to itself, we are not informed, and we know of no such analogous

case in the ethnographic field. Again, Jehovah was 'only a special name of

El, current within a powerful circle.' And who was El?[25] 'Moses was not

the first discoverer of the faith.' Probably not, but Mr. Huxley seems to

think that he was.

Wellhausen's and other German ideas filter into popular traditions, as we

saw, through 'A Short Introduction to the History of Ancient Israel'

(pp. 19, 20), by the Rev. A.W. Oxford, M.A., Vicar of St. Luke's, Soho.

Here follows Mr. Oxford's undeniably 'short way with Jehovah.' 'Moses was

the founder of the Israelite religion. Jehovah, his family or tribal god,

perhaps originally the God of the Kenites, was taken as a tribal god by

all the Israelite tribes.... That Jehovah was not the original god of

Israel' (as the Bible impudently alleges) 'but was the god of the Kenites,

we see mainly from Deut. xxxiii. 2, Judges v. 4, 5, and from the history

of Jethro, who, according to Judges i. 16, was a Kenite.'

The first text says that, according to Moses, 'the Lord came from Sinai,'

rose up from Seir, and shone from Mount Paran. The second text mentions

Jehovah's going up out of Seir and Sinai. The third text says that Jethro,

Moses's Kenite (or Midianite) father-in-law, dwelt among the people of

Judah; Jethro being a priest of Midian. How all this proves that 'Moses

was a great impostor,' as the poet says, and that Jehovah was not 'the

original God of Israel,' but (1) Moses's family or tribal god, or (2) 'the

god of the Kenites,' I profess my inability to comprehend.

Wellhausen himself had explained Jehovah as 'a family or tribal god,

either of the family of Moses' (tribe of Levi) 'or of the tribe of

Joseph.' It seems to be all one to Mr. Oxford whether Jehovah was a god

of Moses's tribe or quite the reverse, 'a Kenite god.' Yet it really

makes a good deal of difference! For in a complex of tribes, speaking one

language, it is to the last degree unexampled (within my knowledge) that

one tribe, or family, possesses, all to itself, a family god who is also

the Creator and is later accepted as such by all the other tribes. One may

ask for instances of such a thing in any known race, in any stage of

culture. Peru will not help us--not the Creator, Pachacamac, but the Sun,

is the god of the Inca family. If, on the other hand, Jehovah was a Kenite

god, the Kenites were a half-Arab Semitic people connected with Israel,

and may very well have retained traditions of a Supreme Being which, in

Egypt, were likely to be dimmed, as Exodus asserts, by foreign religions.

The learned Stade, to be sure, may disbelieve in Israel's sojourn in

Egypt, but that revolutionary opinion is not necessarily binding on us and

involves a few difficulties.

Have critics and manual-makers no knowledge of the science of comparative

religion? Are they unaware that peoples infinitely more backward than

Israel was at the date supposed have already moral Supreme Beings

acknowledged over vast tracts of territory? Have they a tittle of positive

evidence that early Israel was benighted beyond the darkness of Bushmen,

Andamanese, Pawnees, Blackfeet, Hurons, Indians of British Guiana, Dinkas,

Negroes, and so forth? Unless Israel had this rare ill-luck (which Israel

denies) of course Israel must have had a secular tradition, however dim,

of a Supreme Being. We must ask for a single instance of a family or

tribe, in a complex of semi-barbaric but not savage tribes of one

speech, owning a private deity who happened to be the Maker and Ruler of

the world, and, as such, was accepted by all the tribes. Jehovah came out

from Sinai, because, there having been a Theophany at Sinai, that mountain

was regarded as one of his seats.[26]

We have seen that it seemed to make no difference to Mr. Oxford whether

Jehovah was a god of Moses's family or tribe or a Kenite god. The former

(with the alternative of _Joseph's_ family or tribal god) is Wellhausen's

theory. The latter is Stade's.[27] Each is inconsistent with the other;

Wellhausen's fancy is inconsistent with all that we know of religious

development: Stade's is hopelessly inconsistent with Exodus iv. 24-26,

where Moses's Kenite wife reproaches him for a ceremony of his, not of

her, religion. Therefore the Kenite differed from the Hebrew _sacra_.

The passage is very extraordinary, and is said by critics to be very

archaic. After the revelation of the Burning Bush, Jehovah met Moses and

his Kenite wife, Zipporah, and their child, at a khan. Jehovah was

anxious to slay Moses, nobody ever knew why, so Zipporah appeased

Jehovah's wrath by circumcising her boy _with a flint_. 'A bloody husband

art thou to me,' she said, 'because of the circumcision'--an Egyptian,

but clearly not a Kenite practice. Whatever all this may mean, it does not

look as if Zipporah expected such rites as circumcision in the faith of a

Kenite husband, nor does it favour the idea that the _sacra_ of Moses were

of Kenite origin.

Without being a scholar, or an expert in Biblical criticism, one may

protest against the presentation to the manual-reading intellectual middle

classes of a theory so vague, contradictory, and (by all analogy) so

impossible as Mr. Oxford collects from German writers. Of course, the

whole subject, so dogmatically handled, is mere matter of dissentient

opinion among scholars. Thus M. Renan derives the name of Jehovah from

Assyria, from 'Aramaised Chaldaeanism.'[28] In that case the name was long

anterior to the residence in Egypt. But again, perhaps Jehovah was a local

god of Sinai, or a provincial deity in Palestine.[29] He was known to very

ancient sages, who preferred such names as El Shaddai and Elohim. In

short, we have no certainty on the subject.[30]

I need hardly say, perhaps, that I have no antiquated prejudice against

Biblical criticism. Assuredly the Bible must be studied like any other

collection of documents, linguistically, historically, and in the light of

the comparative method. The leading ideas of Wellhausen, for example, are

conspicuous for acumen: the humblest layman can see that. But one may

protest against criticising the Bible, or Homer, by methods like those

which prove Shakspeare to have been Bacon. One must protest, too, against

the presentation of inconsistent and probably baseless critical hypotheses

in the dogmatic brevity of cheap handbooks.

Yet again, whence comes the moral element in Jehovah? Mr. Huxley thinks

that it possibly came from the ethical practice and theory of Egypt. In

the Egyptian Book of the Dead, 'a sort of Guide to Spirit Land,' there

are moral chapters; the ghost tells his judges in Amenti what sins he has

_not_ committed. Many of these sins are forbidden in the Ten Commandments.

They are just as much forbidden in the nascent morality of savage peoples.

Moses did not need the Book of the Dead to teach him elementary morals.

From the mysteries of Mtanga he might have learned, also, had he been

present, the virtue of unselfish generosity. If the creed of Jehovah, or

of El, retained only as much of ethics as is under divine sanction among

the Kurnai, adaptation from the Book of the Dead was superfluous.

The care for the departed, the ritual of the Ka, the intense

pre-occupation with the future life, which, far more than its morality,

are the essential characteristics of the Book of the Dead--Israel cared

for none of these animistic things, brought none of these, or very little

of these, out of the land of Egypt. Moses was certainly very eclectic; he

took only the morality of Egypt. But as Mr. Huxley advances this opinion

tentatively, as having no secure historical authority about Moses, it

hardly answers our question, Whence came the moral element in Jehovah? One

may surmise that it was the survival of the primitive divinely sanctioned

ethics of the ancient savage ancestors of the Israelite, known to them,

as to the Kurnai, before they had a pot, or a bronze knife, or seed to

sow, or sheep to herd, or even a tent over their heads. In the counsels of

eternity Israel was chosen to keep burning, however obscured with smoke

of sacrifice, that flame which illumines the darkest places of the earth,

'a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel'--a

flame how litten a light whence shining, history cannot inform us, and

anthropology can but conjecture. Here scientific nescience is wiser than

the cocksureness of popular science, with her ghosts and fetish-stones,

and gods that sprang from ghosts, which ghosts, however, could not be

developed, owing to nomadic habits.

It appears, then, if our general suggestion meets with any acceptance,

that what occurred in the development of Hebrew religion was precisely

what the Bible tells us did occur. This must necessarily seem highly

paradoxical to our generation; but the whole trend of our provisional

system makes in favour of the paradox. If savage nomadic Israel had the

higher religious conceptions proved to exist among several of the lowest

known races, these conceptions might be revived by a leader of genius.

They might, in a crisis of tribal fortunes, become the rallying point of a

new national sentiment. Obscured, in some degree, by acquaintance with

'the idols of Egypt,' and restricted and localised by the very national

sentiment which they fostered, these conceptions were purified and widened

far beyond any local, tribal, or national restrictions--widened far as the

_flammantia moenia mundi_--by the historically unique genius of the

Prophets. Blended with the doctrine of our Lord, and recommended by the

addition of Animism in its pure and priceless form--the reward of faith,

hope, and charity in eternal life--the faith of Israel enlightened the

world.

All this is precisely what occurred, according to the Old and New

Testaments. All this is just what, on our hypothesis, might be expected to

occur if, out of the many races which, in their most backward culture, had

a rude conception of a Moral Creative Being, relatively supreme, one race

endured the education of Israel, showed the comparative indifference of

Israel to Animism and ghost-gods, listened to the Prophets of Israel, and

gave birth to a greater than Moses and the Prophets.

To this result the Logos, as Socrates says, has led us, by the path of

anthropology.

[Footnote 1: _Science and Hebrew Tradition_.]

[Footnote 2: Op. cit. p. 361.]

[Footnote 3:_ Science and Hebrew Tradition_. p. 308.]

[Footnote 4: _Prin. Soc_. p. 306.]

[Footnote 5: _The Tshi-speaking Races_, p. 183.]

[Footnote 6: Some Australian tribes have cemeteries, and I have found one

native witness, King Billy, to the celebration of the mysteries near one of

these burying-places. I have not discovered other evidence to this effect,

though I have looked for it. The spot selected is usually 'near the camp,'

and the place for so large a camp in chosen, naturally, where the supply

of food is adequate.]

[Footnote 7: Cf. the Aryans, _Principles of Sociology_, p. 314.]

[Footnote 8: _Principles_, p. 316.]

[Footnote 9: Ibid. p. 317.]

[Footnote 10: Jeremiah xvi. 6, 7.]

[Footnote 11: Leviticus xix. 28.]

[Footnote 12: Deuteronomy xxxiv. 6.]

[Footnote 13: _Short Introduction to History of Ancient Israel_, pp.

83, 84.]

[Footnote 14: Stade i 403.]

[Footnote 15: Stade, i. 406.]

The Making of Religion · 第 24 / 30 段