But names do not merely suggest individuals and communities: the meanings of the names reveal the ideas of the people who used them. It has been well said that “the names of every nation are an important monument of national spirit and manners, and thus the Hebrew names bear important testimony to the peculiar vocation of this nation. No nation of antiquity has such a proportion of names of religious import.”(31) Amongst ourselves indeed the religious meaning of names has almost wholly faded away; “Christian name” is a mere phrase, and children are named after relations, or according to prevailing fashion, or after the characters of popular novels. But the religious motive can still be traced in some modern names; in certain districts of Germany the name “Ursula” or “Apollonia” is a sure indication that a girl is a Roman Catholic and has been named after a popular saint.(32) The Bible constantly insists upon this religious significance, which would frequently be in the mind of the devout Israelite in giving names to his children. The Old Testament contains more than a hundred etymologies(33) of personal names, most of which attach a religious meaning to the words explained. The etymologies of the patriarchal names—“Abraham,” father of a multitude of nations; “Isaac,” laughter; “Jacob,” supplanter; “Israel,” prince with God—are specially familiar. The Biblical interest in edifying etymologies was maintained and developed by early commentators. Their philology was far from accurate, and very often they were merely playing upon the forms of words. But the allegorising tendencies of Jewish and Christian expositors found special opportunities in proper names. On the narrow foundation of an etymology mostly doubtful and often impossible, Philo, and Origen, and Jerome loved to erect an elaborate structure theological or philosophical doctrine. Philo has only one quotation from our author: “Manasseh had sons, whom his Syrian concubine bare to him, Machir; and Machir begat Gilead.”(34) He quotes this verse to show that recollection is associated in a subordinate capacity with memory. The connection is not very clearly made out, but rests in some way on the meaning of Manasseh, the root of which means to forget. As forgetfulness with recollection restores our knowledge, so Manasseh with his Syrian concubine begets Machir. Recollection therefore is a concubine, an inferior and secondary quality.(35) This ingenious trifling has a certain charm in spite of its extravagance, but in less dexterous hands the method becomes clumsy as well as extravagant. It has, however, the advantage of readily adapting itself to all tastes and opinions, so that we are not surprised when an eighteenth-century author discovers in Old Testament etymology a compendium of Trinitarian theology.(36) _Ahiah_(37) is derived from _’ehad_, one, and _yah_, Jehovah, and is thus an assertion of the Divine unity; _Reuel_(38) is resolved into a plural verb with a singular Divine name for its subject: this is an indication of trinity in unity; _Ahilud_(39) is derived from _’ehad_, one, and _galud_, begotten, and signifies that the Son is _only-begotten_.
Modern scholarship is more rational in its methods, but attaches no less importance to these ancient names, and finds in them weighty evidence on problems of criticism and theology; and before proceeding to more serious matters, we may note a few somewhat exceptional names. As pointed in the present Hebrew text, _Hazarmaveth_(40) and _Azmaveth_(41) have a certain grim suggestiveness. _Hazarmaveth_, court of death, is given as the name of a descendant of Shem. It is, however, probably the name of a place transferred to an eponymous ancestor, and has been identified with _Hadramawt_, a district in the south of Arabia. As, however, _Hadramawt_, is a fertile district of Arabia Felix, the name does not seem very appropriate. On the other hand _Azmaveth_, “strength of death,” would be very suitable for some strong, death-dealing soldier. _Azubah_,(42) “forsaken,” the name of Caleb’s wife, is capable of a variety of romantic explanations. _Hazelelponi_(43) is remarkable in its mere form; and Ewald’s interpretation, “Give shade, Thou who turnest to me Thy countenance,” seems rather a cumbrous signification for the name of a daughter of the house of Judah. _Jushab-hesed_,(44) “Mercy will be renewed,” as the name of a son of Zerubbabel, doubtless expresses the gratitude and hope of the Jews on their return from Babylon.(45) _Jashubi-lehem_,(46) however, is curious and perplexing. The name has been interpreted “giving bread” or “turning back to Bethlehem,” but the text is certainly corrupt, and the passage is one of many into which either the carelessness of scribes or the obscurity of the chronicler’s sources has introduced hopeless confusion. But the most remarkable set of names is found in 1 Chron. xxv. 4, where _Giddalti_ and _Romantiezer_, _Joshbekashah_, _Mallothi_, _Hothir_, _Mahazioth_, are simply a Hebrew sentence meaning, “I have magnified and exalted help; sitting in distress,(47) I have spoken(48) visions in abundance.” We may at once set aside the cynical suggestion that the author lacked names to complete a genealogy and, to save the trouble of inventing them separately, took the first sentence that came to hand and cut it up into suitable lengths, nor is it likely that a father would spread the same process over several years and adopt it for his family. This remarkable combination of names is probably due to some misunderstanding of his sources on the part of the chronicler. His parchment rolls must often have been torn and fragmentary, the writing blurred and half illegible; and his attempts to piece together obscure and ragged manuscripts naturally resulted at times in mistakes and confusion.