CHAPTER XXV.
WHY THE HEBREW SCRIPTURES IGNORE THE FUTURE LIFE.

Veritas filia temporis.—Bacon.

It is impossible to become familiar with the monumental, and other, evidences of the position, which the idea of a future life held in the religious system, and in the minds and lives of the Egyptians, without finding one’s self again and again occupied with the inquiry—Why the Mosaic Dispensation rejected it?[5] To pass over a matter of this kind is to reject it. If a code makes no reference whatever to the idea of inheritance, but provides for the appropriation and distribution of the property of deceased persons in such a manner that the idea of inheritance does not at all enter into the arrangement, as, for instance, appropriating it all to the State, or distributing it all among the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, it is clear that the author of the code rejected the ordinary, and natural ideas of inheritance. In this way the Mosaic Dispensation rejects the idea of a future life, an idea which was the backbone of organized thought in Egypt, and among all Aryan people. It does not reject it in the sense of saying that it is false, but in the sense of omitting it as unsuitable for the purposes it has in view. It adjourns the consideration of it to another day, and to other conjunctures of circumstances.

But this is only a part of the wonder. Solomon, one of whose wives was an Egyptian princess, and who possessed so inquiring a mind that it is absolutely impossible he could have been unacquainted with the idea, nowhere in what has survived of his ethical, philosophical, religious, poetical, or practical writings, thinks it worth even a passing reference. On the contrary, like his father David, he emphatically speaks of death as the end. The former had asked whether God shows His wonders among the dead? Or whether the dead shall rise up again and praise Him? Shall His loving kindness be showed in the grave, or His righteousness in the land where all things are forgotten? The wisdom of the latter promised length of these subsolar days only.

Our surprise, already great, is carried to a still higher point on discovering that, for the six centuries which followed the time of Solomon, the Hebrew prophets, men of the profoundest moral insight, and whose very business it was to put before their countrymen’s minds every motive which could have power to induce them to eschew evil, and to do good, pass over in their teaching, just as Moses, David, and Solomon had done before them, this paramountly influential, and to us morally vital idea.

If one had been called upon to give an à priori opinion on the subject, it would have seemed, I think, utterly impossible that such an omission could have been made at the beginning, considering the nature of the work that had to be done; or, if for some exceptional, but decisive, reason it had been made at first, that it could have been maintained throughout. We must remember that the word throughout here applies to the whole course of a national literature, embracing history, legislation, philosophy, poetry, morals, and, above all, religion through a range of a thousand years. The idea was all that time all about the people, and those who contributed to their literature, in Persia, in Egypt, and in Asia Minor. In Europe every tribe of barbarians, and of semi-barbarians, and every civilized people, possessed it. It was the source of their respective religions. It made them all what they were. But in this all-embracing, vigorous, and long-sustained literature of the Hebrews it has no place. It might, for some special reason, have been excluded at one epoch, but why through all? It might, for some special reason, have been ill-adapted to some departments of Hebrew thought, but why to all? And the manner is as singular as the fact of the rejection. It is simply passed over in silence. No reference is made to it. It is not discussed. It is not denounced. It is not ridiculed. It is not insisted on: that is all.

Here, then, is an historical problem than which few can be more curious and interesting. We may not yet be in a position to answer it completely, but it is evident that the first step towards doing this is to set down all the reasons that appear to us possible, and to weigh each with reference to the mind, and the circumstances, of the times. We may not be able to divine all the reasons, or, indeed, the right one, but still this is the course that must be pursued.

The right answer will depend to a considerable extent on dates, that is to say, on the preceding and contemporary history; on ethnological facts; and on a right appreciation of the mental condition of the people. We shall have to ascertain the date of the Exodus; who the Hebrews were, or, to be more precise, who the Israelites were; and what were the popular beliefs, and forms of thought, that bore on the question before us. With respect, then, to the date of the Exodus, we shall, if we confine ourselves to the Hebrew accounts, find the inquiry beset with great difficulties. It is evident, from their character, that those accounts were intended primarily for religious, and not for historical, purposes. Had history been their object, we should have had some Egyptian names; the absence of which, however, from the records, alone throws some light on their purpose. The name, for instance, of the Pharaoh under whom the Exodus took place is not given, nor the name of the Pharaoh, whose minister Joseph was, nor that of the Pharaoh, who reigned when Abraham came down into Egypt, nor, indeed, of one of the kings, who reigned during the sojourn of the Israelites in Egypt. Nothing is told us of the internal condition of the country, with the single exception of the success of Joseph’s plan for enabling Pharaoh, in a time of famine, to become the actual proprietor of the whole of the land of Egypt, save what was held by the priests; nor is anything told us of its external history, notwithstanding that that was its most eventful and important period: for Egypt happened, just at that particular time, to be—having recently culminated in the very zenith of its power—the wonder, the terror, and the glory of the Eastern world. It was the period, which had seen the conclusion of the long struggle between the Egyptians and their Semitic invaders; a struggle in which the latter, having at first been victorious, had overthrown the native dynasty, got complete possession of the country, and ruled it for some centuries, but had in the end been expelled. This struggle, which had terminated when the connexion of the Israelites with Egypt commenced, was followed by a period of unexampled greatness and prosperity. To it belong the reigns of Sethos, whose minister Joseph was, and of Rameses II., the son of Sethos, and the oppressor of the children of Israel. These two greatest of Egyptian conquerors, both of them, overran Syria, and the neighbouring countries: the latter carrying his devastations even as far as Persia and Asia Minor. They had permanently occupied positions on the Euphrates; and were keeping open their communications with them through the sea-side plains to the west, and through the countries to the north, of the district the Israelites conquered, and took possession of. Sethos had been a great builder, but Rameses was the greatest builder the world has ever seen. All the chief structures at Karnak, Thebes, Abydos, and in a multitude of other places in the Delta, as well as in Upper Egypt, and even in Nubia, were his work. What he had done in this way was so far in advance of all that had ever been done before, that it must have been the talk of all that part of the world. Of all these great names and great events, no mention whatever is made in the Hebrew Scriptures, although, during the sojourn, Egypt was actually the scene of the sacred history. The omission is very similar to that which is the subject of this chapter, and almost as difficult to explain. If, then, we were confined to the Jewish accounts, it would be impossible for us to assign to the date of the Exodus its place in the history of Egypt. There is, however, one name occurring incidentally in the account of the oppression, which, in conjunction with monumental evidence, enables us to fix precisely this indispensable date—so precisely as that we are sure that it took place in the reign of Menephthah, or Menophres, the son of the great Rameses, and the grandson of Sethos. I shall reserve the demonstration of this till I have occasion to mention the Canal of Rameses.