we must rather look to the evidence of language and
fact, records which may indeed be misread, but which
cannot well be forged or falsified. These will
show us that in the earliest times the religious sentiment
of the Phoenicians acknowledged only a single deity—a
single mighty power, which was supreme over the whole
universe. The names by which they designated him
were El, “great;” Ram or Rimmon, “high;”
Baal, “Lord;” Melek or Molech, “King;”
Eliun, “Supreme;” Adonai, “My Lord;”
Bel-samin, “Lord of Heaven,” and the like.[0116]
Distinct deities could no more be intended by such
names as these than by those under which God is spoken
of in the Hebrew Scriptures, several of them identical
with the Phoenician names—El or Elohim,
“great;” Jehovah, “existing;”
Adonai, “my Lord;” Shaddai, “strong;”
El Eliun,[0117] “the supreme Great One.”
How far the Phoenicians actually realised all that
their names properly imply, whether they went so far
as to divest God wholly of a material nature, whether
they viewed Him as the Creator, as well as the Lord,
of the world, are problems which it is impossible,
with the means at present at our disposal, to solve.
But they certainly viewed Him as “the Lord of
Heaven,"[0118] and, if so, no doubt also as the Lord
of earth; they believed Him to be “supreme”
or “the Most High;” and they realised his
personal relation to each one of his worshippers, who
were privileged severally to address Him as Adonai—“
my
Lord.” It may be presumed that at this
early stage of the religion there was no idolatry;
when One God alone is acknowledged and recognised,
the feeling is naturally that expressed in the Egyptian
hymn of praise—“He is not graven in
marble; He is not beheld; His abode is unknown; there
is no building that can contain Him; unknown is his
name in heaven; He doth not manifest his forms; vain
are all representations."[0119]
But this happy state of things did not—perhaps
we may say, could not—in the early condition
of the human intelligence, last long. Fallen
man, left to himself, very soon corrupts his way upon
the earth; his hands deal with wickedness; and, in
a little while, “every imagination of the thoughts
of his heart is only evil continually."[1110] When
he becomes conscious to himself of sin, he ceases
to be able to endure the thought of One Perfect Infinite
Being, omnipotent, ever-present, who reads his heart,
who is “about his path, and about his bed, and
spies out all his ways."[1111] He instinctively catches
at anything whereby he may be relieved from the intolerable
burden of such a thought; and here the imperfection
of language comes to his aid. As he has found
it impossible to express in any one word all that
is contained in his idea of the Divine Being, he has
been forced to give Him many names, each of them originally
expressive of some one of that Being’s attributes.
But in course of time these words have lost their
force—their meaning has been forgotten—and
they have come to be mere proper names, designative