25. When on earth they are clothed with a long white garment, have a face like lightning, and one can appear to be two, or not appear at all to some, though very distinctly seen by others (see Matt xxviii. 2, 3; Mark xvi. 5; Luke xxiv. 4; John xx. 12).
Of all the angels mentioned in the Apocalypse we need not write. One of the best accounts I have met with of the angelic mythology of the Hebrews is in Coheleth, or The Book of Ecclesiastes, by Rev. Dr. Ginsburg (Longman, London, 1861). It is written in explanation of Ch. v. 5, wherein is the expression, "Do not say before the angel that it was error" (page 340), and the following remarks are condensed therefrom:— "The angels occupy different rank and offices—seven of them as the highest functionaries; princes or archangels surround the throne of God and form the cabinet—(1) Michael, the prime minister, the guardian of the Jewish nation, the opponent of Satan (Zech. iii. 1, 2), of the prince of Persia (Dan. x. 13, 20), the conservator of the corpse of Moses (Jude 9), and the dragon (Rev. xii); (2) Raphael, who presides over the sanitary affairs (Tobit iii. 17, xii. 15)—'When God would cure any sick person,' says St. Jerome, 'he sends the archangel Raphael, one of the seven spirits before his throne, to accomplish the cure.' There can be little doubt that this was the angel who went down at certain seasons to move the waters of the pool to cure the impotent people (John v. 4); (3) Gabriel, the messenger to announce or to effect deliverance, also a presence angel (Luke i. 11-20, 26-35); (4) Uriel, mentioned in Esdras (2 b., ch. iv., w. 1 and 20). In Targums these four are represented as surrounding the throne of the divine majesty, but all do not agree; Jonathan's arrangement is—Michael at the right, Uriel at the left, Gabriel before, and Raphael behind.* The fifth, sixth, and seventh archangels are Phaniel, Raguel, and Sarakiel."
* An observation such as this distinctly shows how
completely the ideas of angels are associated with gross
anthropomorphism.
"Next to the cabinet comes the privy council, composed of four and twenty crowned elders (1 Kings xxii. 19; Rev. iv. 4; vii. 13; viii. 3), who surround the throne, before whom Christ will confess those who confessed him. Then comes the council, consisting of the seventy angel princes—the provincial governors presiding over the affairs of the seventy nations into which the human family is divided." Hence the Targumic paraphrase on Gen. xi. 7, 8—"The Lord said to the seventy presence angels, Come now and let us go down, and there let us confound their language, so that one may not understand the language of the other. And the Lord manifested himself against that city, and with him were the seventy angels according to the seventy nations." Hence the Septuagint translation of Deut xxxii. 8—"When the Most High divided the nations... he set the boundaries... according to the number of the angels." The doctor also notices the four angels mentioned in Zech. vi, who seem to have the management of four great monarchies, but he does not advert to the angels of the seven churches spoken of in the Apocalypse. He then proceeds—"Then comes the innumerable company of presence angels, since every individual has a guardian angel as well as every nation"... St Jerome, remarking upon Matt, xviii. 10, says,—"Great is the dignity of these little ones, for every one of them has from his very birth an angel dedicated to guard him."* When St. Peter was chained in his prison, his angel released him (Acts xiii. 7,11), and the damsel who opened a house door for him was told that he who was knocking was Peter's angel.
* We have never been able to see the force of this remark,
unless the idea of children having guardian angels was
associated with the belief that these beings left them when
they grew up. If the adults standing round Jesus had each an
individual warden, there would be nothing peculiar in the
warning given in the verse referred to. It is, however, just
possible that the notion existed that it was to adults only
that tutelary spirits were assigned, and that the prophet of
Nazareth declared that each infant had a protecting genius
as well as every man.
Then there are angels who preside over all the phenomena of nature. One presides over the sun (Eev. xix. 17); angels guard the storm and lightning (Ps. civ. 4); four angels have charge over the four winds (Rev. vii. 1, 2); an angel presides over the waters (Rev. xvi. 5); and another over the temple altar (Rev. xiv. 18).
We need not pursue this subject further; enough has been said to show that the Hebrew ideas of angels differ in no essential respect from those of other nations, who, if not older than the Jews, were certainly never influenced by the Hebrews. From the evidence before us, we are constrained to believe that the knowledge which we assume to possess of the celestial court has descended to us from heathen or pagan sources, and that the pictorial designs which pass current for likenesses of angels or archangels have descended from Egyptians, Assyrians, Persians, Grecians, Etruscans, and Romans, and cannot pretend to anything approaching to a revelation from God.
We have already remarked that the Hebrew notions of the heavenly hierarchy are evidence of a gross anthropomorphism; they indicate a belief in the existence of a monarch having a face and back, a right hand and a left, ears and a mouth, and a wherewithal for sitting upon a throne—the part which was shown, as we are told, to Moses; they tell of a theology that recognizes places in the universe where God is not, and of which He has no cognizance save through messengers. If this be so, what shall we say of the hagiology which tells us that there was on one occasion a conspiracy amongst the courtiers of the celestial ruler, a discovery of treason, and a punishment of the offenders as dire as the most malignant man could invent? We have often thought that no human being, unless he were vile, brutal, sensual, clever, disappointed, and revengeful, could have invented the idea of hell, and that none would ever have believed in it unless he was both timid, thoughtless, and malignant The dormant hate of the orthodox against opponents is an awful quantity. The expression of "fallen angels" is a pregnant text; it recalls to our mind the passage—"Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me" (Ps. xli. 9). It reminds us of David, Absalom and Ahitophel, of Solomon and Jeroboam, of Joram and Jehu, Benhadad and Hazael, Louis XVIII. and Marshal Ney. We feel sure that an individual who could write the words—"If we sin wilfully after that we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries" (Heb. x. 26, 27), could readily have invented a hell, if he had not found one already made to his hand. The sentence just quoted bears evidence of intense theological spitefulness, and a petty meanness that neither Sakya nor Jesus would have shown. Such thoughts are womanish, not manly, although apostolic.
We can fancy it having been penned by James or John, who once asked Jesus whether they should not call down fire from heaven to consume the Samaritans, simply because the latter were not polite to the master—"because he seemed to be going to Jerusalem" (Luke ix. 53, 54). But if so, those disciples must have forgotten the rebuke of Jesus—"Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of."
Here we must pause awhile, and consider the idea of various peoples about Hell.