The third and last class are the Semitic languages, as they are styled—the Hebrew and the Arabic, which, together with their kindred dialects, form the summit or apex of this pyramid. In these languages the ruling principle is that all the roots must be trisyllabic, for each of the three letters, of which the root is regularly composed, counts for a syllable, and is articulated as such. Whatever exceptions from this rule exist, must be treated as exceptions only. It cannot well be doubted that this principle of trisyllabic roots is purposely wrought into the whole internal structure of these languages, and perhaps not without some deep significancy—some presentient feeling implied by that triplicity of roots.[56] In these languages the verb is the first principle of derivation—the root from which every thing is deduced, and hence a certain rapidity, fire, and vivacity in the expression. But with such formal regularity the rich, full, elaborate grammatical forms and structure which distinguish the languages of the Indo-Greek race, are not at all compatible;—these trisyllabic tongues have a certain tendency to monotony, and do not certainly possess that poetical variety, and that flexible adaptation to scientific purposes, which characterize the second class of languages. The general characteristic of the Semitic tongues is their peculiar fitness for prophetic inspiration and for profound symbolical import—this is their special character. We speak here of the language itself, and of its internal structure, and not of the spirit which may direct it; and I shall only add that the character we have here assigned to the Semitic languages is according to the declaration of many of the most competent judges, more uniformly perceptible in the Arabic than in the Hebrew, although the former has received a totally different application, and has undergone a very diversified culture. Thus the Hebrew tongue was eminently adapted to the high spiritual destination of the Hebrew people, and was a fit organ of the prophetic revelation and promises imparted to that nation; and, even in this respect, this Semitic language is worthy of being considered the summit of the pyramid of human speech. But it never can be regarded as the basis of that pyramid, nor the root whence all other tongues have sprung, as many scholars in former times conceived—an opinion which would seem tacitly to imply that Adam could have spoken no other language in Paradise but the Hebrew. But this language of the first man created by God—this language which God himself had taught him—this word of Nature which the Deity imparted to man together with the dominion over all other creatures, and over the whole visible world, may have been neither the Hebrew nor the Indian, nor any of the other known or existing languages of the earth. Possibly it was not a speech which we could learn or understand, or which, according to the present scheme of language, we can even conceive or imagine. In the same way no one is capable of proving or discovering the geographical site of the one lost source in Paradise, whence those four rivers took their rise, which are in part to be still traced on the earth. As to the Hebrew language, I think that a deeper inquiry would shew that it is not so far removed from the Indo-Greek family; and that it is even partially related to it, although this affinity may be at first very much concealed by the great difference of structure, and by the total diversity of grammatical forms. In general we must not endeavour to enforce, with too rigid uniformity and too systematic precision, the division of languages here marked out. It suffices to adhere to one general point of survey; but in other respects so luxuriant, so various, so irregular has been the growth of the human mind in the region of languages, that it may be compared to the expansive life of free, uncultivated nature, to the wild variety of the thick-grown forest or of the flowery meadow.
To the second order of languages of the Indo-Greek race, probably belongs the great Sclavonian family of languages, which, after the others, would form the fourth member in this class; but a definite and decisive judgment on this matter, I must leave to those philologists who are perfectly conversant with this branch of human speech. Between the second and third class of languages, there are a multitude of intermediate tongues which have sprung up out of that intermixture of races and nations, occurring at all periods of history, and necessarily affecting more or less language itself. I allude particularly to such languages as are not perfectly monosyllabic, and which have nevertheless a very simple and imperfect, or even a very irregular, strange, and awkward grammatical structure. Such for instance are some of the American languages, which in this respect at least cannot be ranked in the third class, while they do not bear a closer, or at all close, affinity to those of the second. Most of the fragments of the earlier languages of Europe which are still extant, belong to this intermediate class of tongues partaking of both those species, or at least holding a middle place between them. Such are the Celtic or Gælic languages, the Finnish and other ancient remnants of language, which must not escape the study of the philologist, whose judgment is too frequently warped by some patriotic partiality or some learned predilection.
The noble languages of the second class have from a remote antiquity become indigenous to Europe, and are there now generally prevalent. The other fragments of speech which are to be found on our Continent by the side of these, either bear to them a remote affinity like the various Celtic or Gælic dialects, or lead the enquirer to the great Asiatic, perhaps even to the African family of tongues; for we could hardly expect to find a native race of languages peculiar to this small quarter of the globe, which holds the lowest place in point of historical antiquity. From the historical connexion between the North of Africa, and the Southern coasts of Western Europe, especially the Hesperian Peninsula, (a connection which has subsisted from the remotest ages, and has been renewed so frequently, and in such various forms), one might be induced to suppose that the existence of this intercourse would have been attested by an affinity between the languages of the two countries. But the ablest scholars and critics cannot trace in the Basque tongue any affinity with the primitive African family, though they can discover in it an analogy with the Scythian race of Finnish languages. The Magiar language at the other eastern extremity of Europe is most decidedly an Asiatic tongue, belonging to that class which prevails in the central regions of Asia; but in its grammatical structure it bears some analogy to the languages of the second class. If, in conclusion I might be allowed to hazard a conjecture, I should say that nothing would more materially contribute to a comprehensive knowledge of the whole system of human language, as well as to a deeper insight into its internal principles and structure, than the success of the now rising school of Egyptian philologists, who, in deciphering the hieroglyphics by the aid of the Coptic, endeavour to give us a more accurate knowledge, or at least a more minute conception, of the old Egyptian tongue. And if we would venture the attempt of approximating nearer to the primitive speech (the lost or extinct source of all languages), we must start from four different quarters, and thread our way not only through the Sanscrit and Hebrew languages, but through the primitive Chinese and the old Egyptian, as far as we can trace the latter.
How extremely alike ancient Egypt and India were to each other, not only in their political Institutions, but in their system of Idolatry, in their fundamental doctrines of belief, and in their general views of life, we have had ample opportunity of satisfying ourselves in the present age, when both these countries have been more accurately surveyed, and more closely investigated. In a remarkable expedition which occurred in our own times, this strong religious sympathy was strikingly displayed in a spontaneous and instantaneous burst of feeling. When, in the course of the French war in Egypt, an Indian army in British pay there landed, and, ascending up the country, came before the old monuments of Upper Egypt, the soldiers prostrated themselves on the earth, believing they had once more found the Deities of their native land. Great, however, as the resemblance between the two nations may be, they are still characterized by perceptible differences. On the one hand the Egyptian mind, so far as it has been delineated by the Greeks, appears to have been more deeply conversant and initiated in natural science: and on the other hand, the Egyptian idolatry was of a more decided cast, and was even more material in its fundamental errors than the Indian. The worship of animals, especially, was far more general, and was not confined to the god Apis, who may be compared to the Nandi, the bull sacred to Siva, but branched out into a variety of other forms. In the progress of Idolatry it needs came to pass that what was originally revered only as the symbol of a higher principle was gradually confounded or identified with that object and worshipped, till this error in worship led to a more degraded form of Idolatry; for it should be remembered that an error is not merely the absence of truth, but a false and counterfeit imitation of the truth, it has, like the latter, a principle of permanent growth and internal development. Several writers, who, in a general review of all heathen religions, have attempted to classify them after the manner of naturalists, assign the lowest place to the Fetish worship so called, which they rank immediately below the worship of animals. They make the essence of this Fetish worship to consist in the divine adoration of a lifeless, corporeal object; while they place on higher degrees, in this scale of Pagan error, the sensual Nature-worship—the apotheosis of particular men—and the adoration of the elements, the stars, and the different powers of Nature. However just and correct this view of the subject may otherwise be, it should be remembered that the question agitated is not only what were the objects of divine worship, but what were the views, intentions, and doctrines connected with that worship. For it is in these moral views we must look, either for the half-effaced vestige of ancient truth, or for the full enormity—the profound abyss of error. When we come to examine more closely the accounts of that Fetish worship (so called) which is most widely diffused though the interior of Africa, and prevails among some American tribes, and nations of the North East of Asia; it is easy to perceive, that magical rites are connected with it, and that all these corporeal objects are but magical instruments and conductors of magical power; and that the religion of these nations, sunk undoubtedly to the lowest grade of idolatry, comprises nothing beyond the rude beginnings of a Pagan magic, such as in all probability was practised by the Cainites, according to historical indications mentioned in an earlier part of this work. That the Egyptian mind had a certain leaning towards magic, though towards a magic of a very different, more comprehensive, and even more profound and scientific nature, cannot be called in question; for all the Hebrew, Greek, and native vouchers and authorities are unanimous in the assertion.
But if the different religions of Paganism must be classed according to their outward rites and outward objects of worship, the diversity of sacrifices would constitute a far better and more important standard of classification. We are taught that a difference in the mode of sacrifice was the principal cause of the dispute between the first two hostile brothers among men. Although, if we were to judge from first impressions and according to human feelings, no sacrifice is so filial, so simple, so appropriate, as that of the first fruits of the earth in returning Spring, (such for instance as the flower-offering of the pious Brahmins, or a similar oblation of thanksgiving among the ancient Persians and other nations); still on account of their deeper import and typical character, the pre-eminence has ever been allotted to animal-sacrifices; and these among the most civilized nations of Pagan antiquity have ever held the foremost place. Of this kind is the great sacrifice of the horse[57] in India, where in ancient times the bull was offered in sacrifice, till the destruction of the latter animal was severely prohibited, and came to be considered as a grievous crime. But there was ever a symbolical meaning attached to this sort of sacrifice,[58] and the victim selected as it was out of the purest and noblest species of domestic animals that surround man (such as the bull, the horse or the lamb), was looked upon only as the representative of another, and the emblem of a far higher victim.
It is an error to consider ancient Paganism as nothing more than mere poetry or agreeable fiction. The rites of the ancient Polytheism had very distinct and practical objects in view; and were intended either to propitiate the malignant powers of darkness, or to obtain by their agency preternatural power, or on the other hand, to conciliate the favour and appease the anger of the Deity. And for this object the Heathens shrunk from no expedient—- deemed no price—no victim too costly, as the existence of human sacrifices, and especially the sacrifice of children may serve to convince us; and I cannot conclude this first part of the ancient history of the world, without bestowing a more particular examination on this extreme aberration of Paganism, which passed by inheritance from the remoter ages to the second, more civilized, and, (in many respects) milder era of history. The species of human sacrifice most widely diffused among all the Phœnician nations was that in which the idol Moloch, heated from below, grasped in his glowing arms the infant victim. Even in the Punic city, Carthage, this cruel custom long prevailed, and was for a long time secretly practised under the Roman domination. These sacrifices existed among the Greeks and Romans, no less than among the Indians and Egyptians; and the Chinese, so far at least as my acquaintance with their authentic records extends, are the only people among whom I do not recollect meeting with any mention of this kind of sacrifice. But in the civilized states of Greece and Rome, this ancient custom was in later and milder times gradually abolished, or silently supplanted by some equivalent.
Besides the sacrifice of children, there was another species which was customary and particularly striking, and in one respect even more worthy the historian's attention—I mean the sacrifice of pure youths. I may here again enforce the maxim which I have before laid down—namely, that error is the most appalling when it is connected in its origin, or mixed up in its principle, with some confused notion—some profound, though obscure, feeling of the truth. Bearing this in mind, we shall find that the enigmatic lamentation of Lamech[59] over his mysterious slaying of a stripling, occurring in the Mosaic account of the Cainites, would seem to indicate that human sacrifices, and especially this particular kind, had their origin among the race of Cain, deeply imbued even at that early period with anti-Christian errors; and that an unhappy delusion—a confused anticipation of a real necessity and of a future reality, contributed to the institution of these sacrifices. Of that great mystery of truth, which the holy Patriarch of the Hebrews, with a prophetic intuition, had discerned in the sacrifice of his well-beloved son commanded him by God, but through the divine mercy not consummated—of this great mystery, we say, a diabolic imitation may have led to the human sacrifices by the early Heathens. But these sacrifices were more widely diffused, even in the Druidical North, and they continued down to a much later period than is commonly supposed, or at present asserted. Thus, for instance, the anti-Christian Emperor Julian sought to revive them, in order to promote the infernal purposes of his dark magical rites. We are so habituated to look on the divinities and beautiful fables of ancient Greece, as the fairy creations of poetry, that we are painfully surprised when we unexpectedly stumble on some historical fact, which discloses the true spirit and internal essence of polytheism—the fact, for instance, that Themistocles himself, the deliverer of Greece, offered up three youths in sacrifice.
The profound abyss of error, in which the most civilized nations of ancient Heathenism had sunk and were lost, becomes the more apparent, the more closely it is investigated and the more fully it is understood. And on this account, we should learn to see how necessary and salutary was that slow progression—that gradual preparation for a brighter futurity, wherein, as I above stated, consisted the peculiar destination and spiritual career of the Hebrew people. It is only from this its peculiar destination for the Future, the Hebrew people presents so high an interest to historical philosophy, and holds the lofty place assigned to it in the first period of human civilization. The later destinies of the Jewish nation, and the particular events and characters in their later annals, are subjects of the highest moment in a history of religion; for they can be rightly understood and fully appreciated only by their practical application, and profound symbolical reference to the circumstances of Christianity. But it is only the political constitution of the Jewish state in the earliest period of its history—a constitution which was so peculiar and unique in itself, so entirely without a parallel—that can be the appropriate subject of consideration in this general review of history; because this constitution was connected with the prophetic calling of the Hebrew people, and even bore a prophetic character itself. This constitution has been called a theocracy, and so it was in the right and old signification of that word, by which was meant a government under the special and immediate providence of God. But in the now ordinary acceptation of the term, which implies a sacerdotal empire or dominion, the Jewish state was at no time and by no means a theocracy. Moses was no more a priest than a king; and after him all those men of Desire, as they were called from the first circumstances of their institution, or men of the desert, because after a preparation in the solitude of the desert, they led and conducted the people in a literal or figurative sense, through the wilderness—all these men appointed by God, and without any other title or insignia but the staff, which as pilgrims they brought out of the desert, governed and directed the people under the immediate providence of God. If on a certain occasion one of the prophets girded on the sword and led out an army—this was only a transient instance; and the prophets in general were nothing more than the men of God, and the divinely appointed conductors of the people. When the wish in which the Hebrews had so long indulged of having a king, like the heathen nations, was at last gratified; a wish which in the higher views of Holy Writ, was regarded as the culpable illusion of a carnal sense;—the last of the prophets formed a party, and constituted in a very peculiar and singular manner, a species of political Opposition, which was acknowledged to be, and was in fact, perfectly legitimate and just. And when some of them, like Elias for instance, had received from God the supreme and immediate power over life and death, as the distinct badge of dominion; we cannot wonder that men should have followed them, the people have been at their bidding, and kings themselves, even though they followed not always their counsels, have hearkened at least to their warning voice. If those who are so fond of playing the part of oppositionists in every country, could only once rise superior to vulgar forms and formulas, and not every where seek for the echo of their modern opinions, an attentive study of the character of Elias would hold up to their admiring view an oppositionist, who in energy of conduct, and in burning zeal for the cause of truth and justice, or in other words, of God, could not be perhaps easily equalled by any historical personage whether of ancient republics, or of modern monarchies.
After the Jewish state had become a kingdom of no very great dimensions, it shared the destiny of most of the petty states in those regions; and was first a province of the Assyro-Babylonian empire, then became subject to the Persian monarchs, and afterwards to the Greek kings of Syria and Egypt, till with these it was finally swallowed up in the vast empire of all-conquering Rome.