The Heavenly Father | Page 8

idols have absorbed
all the sap. The ancient God (allow me once more a comparison) is like
a sovereign confined in the interior of his palace: he is but seldom
thought of, and only on great occasions; his ministers alone act,
entertain requests, and receive the real homage.
The proposition of the historical priority of monotheism is very
important, and is not universally admitted. It will therefore be

necessary to show you, by a few quotations at least, that I am not
speaking rashly. One of the most accredited mythologists of our time,
Professor Grimm, of Berlin, writes as follows: "The monotheistic form
appears to be the more ancient, and that out of which antiquity in its
infancy formed polytheism.... All mythologies lead us to this
conclusion."[11] Among the French savants devoted to the study of
ancient Egypt, the Vicomte de Rongé stands in the foremost rank. This
is what he tells us: "In Egypt the supreme God was called the one God,
living indeed, He who made all that exists, who created other beings.
He is the Generator existing alone who made the heaven and created
the earth." The writer informs us that these ideas are often found
reproduced "in writings the date of which is anterior to Moses, and
many of which formed part of the most ancient sacred hymns;" then he
comes to this conclusion: "Egypt, in possession of an admirable fund of
doctrines respecting the essence of God, and the immortality of the soul,
did not for all that defile herself the less by the most degrading
superstitions; we have in her, sufficiently summed up, the religious
history of all antiquity."[12] As regards the civilization which
flourished in India, M. Adolphe Pictet, in his learned researches on the
subject of the primitive Aryas, arrives, in what concerns the religious
idea, at the following conclusion: "To sum up: primitive monotheism of
a character more or less vague, passing gradually into a polytheism still
simple, such appears to have been the religion of the ancient Aryas."[13]
One of our fellow-countrymen, who cultivates with equal modesty and
perseverance the study of religious antiquities, has procured the greater
part of the recent works published on these subjects in France,
Germany, and England. He has read them, pen in hand, and, at my
urgent request, he has kindly allowed me to look over his notes which
have been long accumulating. I find the following sentence in the
manuscripts which he has shown me: "The general impression of all the
most distinguished mythologists of the present day is, that monotheism
is at the foundation of all pagan mythology."
The savants, I repeat, do not unanimously accept these conclusions:
savants, like other men, are rarely unanimous. It is enough for my
purpose to have shown that it is not merely the grand tradition
guaranteed by the Christian faith, but also the most distinctly marked

current of contemporary science, which tells us that God shone upon
the cradle of our species. The august Form was veiled, and idolatry
with its train of shameful rites shows itself in history as the result of a
fall which calls for a restoration, rather than as the point of departure of
a continued progress.
The august Form was veiled. Who has lifted the veil? Not the priests of
the idols. We meet in the history of paganism with movements of
reformation, or, at the very least, of religious transformation: Buddhism
is a memorable example of this; but it is not a return towards the pure
traditions of India or of Egypt which has caused us to know the God
whom we adore. Has the veil been lifted by reflection, that is to say by
the labors of philosophers? Philosophy has rendered splendid services
to the world. It has combated the abominations of idolatry; it has
recognized in nature the proofs of an intelligent design; it has discerned
in the reason the deeply felt need of unity; it has indicated in the
conscience the sense of good, and shown its characteristics; it has
contemplated the radiant image of the supreme beauty--still it is not
philosophy which has restored for humanity the idea of God. Its lights
mingled with darkness remained widely scattered, and without any
focus powerful enough to give them strength for enlightening the world.
To seek God, and consequently to know Him already in a certain
measure; but to remain always before the altar of a God glimpsed only
by an élite of sages, and continuing for the multitudes the unknown
God: such was the wisdom of the ancients. It prepared the soil; but it
did not deposit in it the germ from which the idea of the Creator was to
spring forth living and strong, to overshadow with its branches all the
nations of the earth. And when