INTRODUCTION.

It may, we think, be taken for granted, that nothing is, or has ever

been, adopted into the service of Religion, without a definite purpose.

If it be supposed that a religion is built upon the foundation of a

distinct revelation from the Almighty, as the Hebrew is said to be,

there is a full belief that every emblem, rite, ceremony, dress, symbol,

etc., has a special signification. Many earnest Christians, indeed,

see in Judaic ordinances a reference to Jesus of Nazareth. I have, for

example, heard a pious man assert that "leprosy" was only another word

for "sin"; but he was greatly staggered in this belief when I pointed

out to him that if a person's whole body was affected he was no longer

unclean (Lev. xiii. 13), which seemed on the proposed hypothesis to

demonstrate that when a sinner was as black as hell he was the equal of

a saint. According to such an interpreter, the paschal lamb is a type of

Jesus, and consequently all whom his blood sprinkles are blocks of

wood, lintels, and side-posts (Exod. xii. 22, 28). By the same style of

metaphorical reasoning, Jesus was typified by the "scape-goat," and the

proof is clear, for one was driven away into the wilderness, and the

other voluntarily went there--one to be destroyed, the other to be

tempted by the devil! Hence we infer that there is nothing repugnant to

the minds of the pious in an examination respecting the use of symbols,

and into that which is shadowed forth by them. What has been done for

Judaism may be attempted for other forms of religion.

As the Hebrews and Christians believe their religion to be God-given,

so other nations, having a different theology, regard their own peculiar

tenets. Though we may, with that unreasoning prejudice and blind bigotry

which are common to the Briton and the Spaniard, and pre-eminently so to

the mass of Irish and Scotchmen amongst ourselves, and to the

Carlists in the peninsula, disbelieve a heathen pretension to a divine

revelation, we cannot doubt that the symbols, etc., of Paganism have a

meaning, and that it is as lawful to scrutinise the mysteries which they

enfold as it is to speculate upon the Urim and Thummim of the Jews. Yet,

even this freedom has, by some, been denied; for there are a few amongst

us who adhere rigidly to the precept addressed to the followers of

Moses, viz., "Take heed that thou enquire not after their gods, saying,

How did these nations serve their gods?" (Deut. xii. 30.) The intention

of the prohibition thus enunciated is well marked in the following

words, 1 which indicate that the writer believed that the adoption of

heathen gods would follow inquiry respecting them. It is not now-a-days

feared that we may become Mahometans if we read the Koran, or Buddhists

if we study the Dhammapada; but there are priests who fear that an

inquiry into ecclesiastical matters may make their followers Papists,

Protestants, Wesleyans, Baptists, Unitarians, or some other religion

which the Presbytery object to. The dislike of inquiry ever attends

those who profess a religion which is believed or known to be weak.

* "even so will I do likewise."

The philosopher of the present day, being freed from the shackles once

riveted around him by a dominant hierarchy, may regard the precept in

Deuteronomy in another light. Seeing that the same symbolism is common

to many forms of religion, professed in countries widely apart both as

regards time and space, he thinks that the danger of inquiry into

faiths is not the adoption of foreign, but the relinquishment of present

methods of religious belief. When we see the same ideas promulgated as

divine truth, on the ancient banks of the Ganges, and the modern

shores of the Mediterranean, we are constrained to admit that they have

something common in their source. They may be the result of celestial

revelation, or they may all alike emanate from human ingenuity. As men

invent new forms of religion now, there is a presumption that others

may have done so formerly. As all men are essentially human, so we may

believe that their inventions will be characterised by the virtues and

the failings of humanity. Again, experience tells us that similarity in

thought involves similarity in action. Two sportsmen, seeing a hare run

off from between them, will fire at it so simultaneously that each is

unaware that the other shot. So a resemblance in religious belief will

eventuate in the selection of analogous symbolism.

We search into emblems with an intention different from that with which

we inquire into ordinary language. The last tells us of the relationship

of nations upon Earth, the first of the probable connections of mankind

with Heaven. The devout Christian believes that all who venerate the

Cross may hope for a happy eternity, without ever dreaming that the

sign of his faith is as ancient as Homeric Troy, and was used by the

Phoenicians probably before the Jews had any existence as a people;

whilst an equally pious Mahometan regards the Crescent as the passport

to the realms of bliss, without a thought that the symbol was in use

long before the Prophet of Allah was born, and amongst those nations

which it was the Prophet's mission to convert or to destroy. Letters

and words mark the ordinary current of man's thought, whilst religious

symbols show the nature of his aspirations. But all have this in common,

viz., that they may be misunderstood. Many a Brahmin has uttered prayers

in a language to him unintelligible; and many a Christian uses words

in his devotions of which he never seeks to know the meaning. "Om manee

pani" "Om manee padme houm," "Amen" and "Ave Maria purissima" may fairly

be placed in the same category. In like manner, the signification of an

emblem may be unknown. The antiquary finds in Lycian coins, and in Aztec

ruins, figures for which he can frame no meaning; whilst the ordinary

church-goer also sees, in his place of worship, designs of which none

can give him a rational explanation. Again, we find that a language may

find professed interpreters, whose system of exposition is wholly wrong;

and the same may be said of symbols. I have seen, for example, three

distinctly different interpretations given to one Assyrian inscription,

and have heard as many opposite explanations of a particular figure, all

of which have been incorrect.

In the interpretation of unknown languages and symbols, the observer

gladly allows that much may be wrong; but this does not prevent him

believing that some may be right. In giving his judgment, he will

examine as closely as he can into the system adopted by each inquirer,

the amount of materials at his disposal, and, generally, the acumen

which has been brought to the task. Perhaps, in an investigation such

as we describe, the most important ingredient is care in collation and

comparison. But a scholar can only collate satisfactorily when he has

sufficient means, and these demand much time and research. The labour

requires more time than ordinary working folk can command, and more

patience than those who have leisure are generally disposed to give.

Unquestionably, we have as yet had few attempts in England to classify

and explain ancient and modern symbols. It is perhaps not strictly true

that there has been so much a laxity in the research, of which we

here speak, as a dread of making public the results of inquiry.

Investigators, as a rule, have a respect for their own prejudices, and

dislike to make known to others a knowledge which has brought pain to

their own minds. Like the Brahmin of the story, they will destroy a fine

microscope rather than permit their co-religionists to know that they

drink living creatures in their water, or eat mites in their fruit. The

motto of such people is, "If truth is disagreeable, cling to error."

The following attempts to explain much of ancient and modern symbolism

can only be regarded as tentative. The various devices contained herein

seem to me to support the views which I have been led to form from other

sources, by a careful inquiry into the signification of ancient names,

and the examination of ancient faiths. The figures were originally

intended as corroborative of evidence drawn from numerous ancient and

modern writings; and the idea of collecting them, and, as it were,

making them speak for themselves, has been an after-thought. In the

following pages I have simply reprinted the figures, etc., which appear

in Ancient Faiths embodied in Ancient Names (second edition). I make no

attempt to exhaust the subject. There are hundreds of emblems which find

herein no place; and there are explanations of symbols current to which

I make no reference, for they are simply exoteric.

For the benefit of many of my readers, I must explain the meaning of the

last word italicised. In most, if not in all, forms of religion, there

are tenets not generally imparted to the vulgar, and only given to a

select few under the seal of secrecy. A similar reticence exists in

common life. There are secrets kept from children, for example, that are

commonly known to all parents; there are arcana, familiar to doctors, of

which patients have no idea. For example, when a lad innocently asks the

family surgeon, or his parent, where the last new baby came from, he is

put off with a reply, wide of the mark, yet sufficient for him. When I

put such a question to the maids in the kitchen, to which place for a

time I was relegated, the first answer was that the baby came from the

parsley bed. On hearing this, I went into the garden, and, finding

the bed had been unmoved, came back and reproached my informant for

falsehood. Another then took up the word, and said it was the carrot bed

which the baby came from. As a roar of laughter followed this remark, I

felt that I was being cheated, and asked no more questions. Then I could

not, now I can, understand the esoteric sense of the sayings. They had

to the servants two distinct significations. The only one which I could

then comprehend was exoteric; that which was known to my elders was the

esoteric meaning. In what is called "religion" there has been a similar

distinction. We see this, not only in the "mysteries" of Greece and

Rome, but amongst the Jews; Esdras stating the following as a command

from God, "Some things shalt thou publish, and some things shalt thou

show secretly to the wise" (2 Esdras xv. 26).

When there exist two distinct explanations, or statements, about the

signification of an emblem, the one "esoteric," true, and known only to

the few, the other "exoteric," incorrect, and known to the many, it

is clear that a time may come when the first may be lost, and the last

alone remain. As an illustration, we can point to the original and

correct pronunciation of the word [--Hebrew--], commonly pronounced

Jehovah. Known only to a select few, it became lost when these died

without imparting it; yet what is considered to be the incorrect method

of pronouncing the word survives until to-day.*

* It is supposed by some that Jahveh is the proper

pronunciation of this word, but as the first letter may

represent, ja, ya, or e, and the third u, v, or o, whilst

the second and fourth are the soft h, one may read the word

Jhuh, analogous to the Ju in Jupiter; Jehu, the name of a

king of Israel; Tahu as it is read on Assyrian inscriptions;

Jeho, as in Jehoshaphat; Ehoh, analogous to the Evoe or Ewe

associated with Bacchus; and Jaho, analogous to the J. A. O.

of the Gnostics. The Greek "Fathers" give the word as if

equivalent to yave, yaoh, yeho, and too.

But the question is not how the word may be pronounced, but how it was

expressed in sound when used in religion by the Hebrew and other Semitic

nations, amongst whom it was a sacred secret, or ineffable name, not

lightly to be "taken in vain."------

We may fairly assume that, when two such meanings exist, they are not

identical, and that the one most commonly received is not the correct

one. But when one alone is known to exist, it becomes a question whether

another should be sought. If, it may be asked, the common people are

contented with a fable, believing it true, why seek to enlighten them

upon its hidden meaning? To show the bearing of this subject, let us

notice what has always struck me as remarkable. The second commandment

declares to the Jews, "Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image,

or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the

earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth; thou shalt not

bow down thyself to them," etc. (Exod. xx. 4). Yet we find, in Numbers

xxi., that Jehovah ordered Moses to frame a brazen serpent, whose power

was so miraculous that those who only looked at it were cured of the

evils inflicted by thanatoid snakes.

Then again, in the temple of the God who is reported to have thus

spoken, and who is also said to have declared that He would dwell in

the house that Solomon made for Him, an ark, or box, was worshipped, and

over it Cherubim were seen. These were likenesses of something, and the

first was worshipped. We find it described as being so sacred that death

once followed a profane touching of it (2 Sam. vi. 6, 7), and no fewer

than 50,070 people were done to death at Bethshemesh because somebody

had ventured to look inside the box, and had tried to search into

the mystery contained therein (1 Sam. vi. 19). It is curious that

the Philistines, who must have touched the box to put their strange

offerings beside it (see 1 Sam. vi. 8), were not particularly bothered.

They were "profane"; and priests only invent stories, which are

applicable to the arcana which they use in worship, to blind the eyes

of and give a holy horror to the people whom they govern. How David

worshipped the ark as being the representative of God we see in 2 Sam.

vi. 14, 16, 17, 21.

The ark of the covenant was indeed regarded by the Jews much as a

saint's toe-nail, a crucifix, an image of the Virgin, a bit of wood,

or a rusty old nail is by the Roman Catholics. So flagrant an apparent

breach of the second commandment was covered for the common Hebrews by

the assertion that the mysterious box was a token of God's covenant with

His people; but that this statement was "exoteric," we feel sure, when

we find a similar ark existing and used in "the mysteries" of Egypt and

Greece, amongst people who probably never heard of Jews, and could by no

chance know what passed in the Hebrew temple.

When become dissatisfied with a statement, which is evidently intended

to be a blind, some individuals naturally endeavour to ascertain what is

behind the curtain. In this they resemble the brave boy, who rushes upon

a sheet and turnip lantern, which has imposed upon his companions

and passed for a ghost. What is a bugbear to the many is often a

contemptible reptile to the few. Yet there are a great number who would

rather run from a phantom night after night than grapple with it once,

and would dissuade others from being bold enough to encounter it.

Nevertheless, even the former rejoice when the cheat is exposed.

As when, by some courageous hand, that which has been mistaken by

hundreds for a spectre has been demonstrated to be a crafty man, no one

would endeavour to demonstrate the reality of ghosts by referring to

the many scores of men of all ranks who had been duped by the apparition

thus detected; so, in like manner, when the falsehood of an exoteric

story is exhibited, it is no argument in its favour that the vulgar in

thousands and many a wise man have believed it. Speaking metaphorically,

we have many such ghosts amongst ourselves; phantoms, which pass for

powerful giants, but are in reality perfect shams. Such we may describe

by comparing them to the apocryphal vampires. It is to me a melancholy

thing to contemplate the manner in which mankind have, in every age and

nation, made for themselves bugbears, and then have felt fear at them.

We deride the African, who manufactures a Fetish, and then trembles at

its power, but the learned know perfectly well that men made the devil,

whom the pious fear, just as a negro dreads Mumbo Jumbo.

In the fictitious narratives which passed for truth in the dark ages

of Christianity, there were accounts of individuals who died and were

buried, and who, after a brief repose in the tomb, rose again. Some

imagined that the resuscitated being was the identical one who had been

interred. Others believed that some evil spirit had appropriated the

body, and restored to it apparent vitality. Whatever the fiction was,

the statement remained unchallenged, that some dead folk returned to

earth, having the same guise as when they quitted it. We believe that a

similar occurrence has taken place in religion. Heathendom died, and was

buried; yet, after a brief interval, it rose again from its tomb. But,

unlike the vampire, its garb was changed, and it was not recognised. It

moved through Christendom in a seductive dress. If it were a devil, yet

its clothing was that of a sheep; if a wolf, it wore broadcloth. If it

ravened, the victims were not pitied. Heathenism, by which I mean the

manners, morals and rites prevalent in pagan times or countries, like

a resuscitated vampire, once bore rule throughout Christendom, in which

term is included all those parts where Christian baptism is used by all

the people, or the vast majority. In most parts it still reigns supreme.

When vampires were discovered by the acumen of any observer, they were,

we are told, ignominiously killed, by a stake being driven through the

body; but experience showed them to have such tenacity of life that they

rose again, and again, notwithstanding renewed impalement, and were

not ultimately laid to rest till wholly burnt. In like manner, the

regenerated Heathendom, which dominates over the followers of Jesus

of Nazareth, has risen again and again, after being transfixed. Still

cherished by the many, it is denounced by the few. Amongst other

accusers, I raise my voice against the Paganism which exists so

extensively in ecclesiastical Christianity, and will do my utmost to

expose the imposture.

In a vampire story, told in Thalaba, by Southey, the resuscitated being

takes the form of a dearly beloved maiden, and the hero is obliged to

kill her with his own hand. He does so; but, whilst he strikes the form

of the loved one, he feels sure that he slays only a demon. In like

manner, when I endeavour to destroy the current Heathenism, which has

assumed the garb of Christianity, I do not attack real religion. Few

would accuse a workman of malignancy who cleanses from filth the surface

of a noble statue. There may be some who are too nice to touch a nasty

subject; yet even they will rejoice when some one else removes the dirt.

Such a scavenger is much wanted.

If I were to assert, as a general proposition, that religion does not

require any symbolism, I should probably win assent from every true

Scotch Presbyterian, every Wesleyan, and every Independent. Yet I should

be opposed by every Papist, and by most Anglican Churchmen. But why?

Is it not because their ecclesiastics have adopted symbolism into their

churches and into their ritual? They have broken the second commandment

of Jehovah, and refuse to see anything wrong in their practice or gross

in their imagery. But they adopt Jehovah rather than Elohim, and break

the commandments, said to be given upon Sinai, in good company.

The reader of the following pages will probably feel more interest

therein if he has some clue whereby he may guide himself through their

labyrinth.

From the earliest known times there seems to have been in every

civilised nation the idea of an unseen power. In the speculations of

thoughtful minds a necessity is recognised for the existence of a

Being who made all things--who is at times beneficent, sending rain and

warmth, and who at others sends storm, plague, famine, and war. After

the crude idea has taken possession of the thoughts, there has been a

desire to know something more of this Creator, and an examination into

the works of Nature has been made with the view to ascertain the will

and designs of the Supreme. In every country this great One has been

supposed to inhabit the heaven above us, and consequently all celestial

phenomena have been noticed carefully. But the mind soon got weary of

contemplating about an essence, and, contenting itself with the

belief that there was a Power, began to investigate the nature of His

ministers. These, amongst the Aryans, were the sun, fire, storm, wind,

the sky, the day, night, etc. An intoxicating drink, too, was regarded

as an emanation from the Supreme. With this form of belief men lived as

they had done ere it existed, and in their relations with each other

may be compared to such high class animals as elephants. Men can live

peaceably together without religion, just as do the bisons, buffaloes,

antelopes, and even wolves. The assumption that some form of faith is

absolutely a necessity for man is only founded on the fancies of some

religious fanatics who know little of the world.*

* Whilst these sheets were passing through the press, there

appeared a work, published anonymously, but reported to be

by one of the most esteemed theologians who ever sat upon an

episcopal bench. It is entitled Supernatural Religion.

London: Longmans, 1874. From it we quote the following, vol.

ii., p. 489:--

"We gain infinitely more than we lose in abandoning belief

in the reality of Divine Revelation. Whilst we retain pure

and unimpaired the treasure of Christian Morality, we

relinquish nothing but the debasing elements added to it by

human superstition. We are no longer bound to believe a

theology which outrages reason and moral sense. We are freed

from base anthropomorphic views of God and His government of

the universe; and from Jewish Mythology we rise to higher

conceptions of an infinitely wise and beneficent Being,

hidden from our finite minds, it is true, in the

impenetrable glory of Divinity, but whose Laws of wondrous

comprehensiveness and perfection we ever perceive in

operation around us. We are no longer disturbed by visions

of fitful interference with the order of Nature, but we

recognise that the Being who regulates the universe is

without variableness or shadow of turning. It is singular

how little there is in the supposed Revelation of alleged

information, however incredible, regarding that which is

beyond the limits of human thought, but that little is of a

character which reason declares to be the wildest delusion.

Let no man whose belief in the reality of a Divine

Revelation may be destroyed by such an inquiry complain that

he has lost a precious possession, and that nothing is left

but a blank. The Revelation not being a reality, that which

he has lost was but an illusion, and that which is left is

the Truth. If he be content with illusions, he will speedily

be consoled; if he be a lover only of truth, instead of a

blank, he will recognise that the reality before him is full

of great peace.

"If we know less than we have supposed of man's destiny, we

may at least rejoice that we are no longer compelled to

believe that which is unworthy. The limits of thought once

attained, we may well be unmoved in the assurance that all

that we do know of the regulation of the universe being so

perfect and wise, all that we do not know must be equally

so. Here enters the true and noble Faith--which is the child

of reason. If we have believed a system, the details of

which must at one time or another have shocked the mind of

every intelligent man, and believed it simply because it was

supposed to be revealed, we may equally believe in the

wisdom and goodness of what is not revealed. The mere act of

communication to us is nothing: Faith in the perfect

ordering of all things is independent of Revelation.

"The argument so often employed by Theologians that Divine

Revelation is necessary for man, and that certain views

contained in that Revelation are required by our moral

consciousness, is purely imaginary, and derived from the

Revelation which it seeks to maintain. The only thing

absolutely necessary for man is Truth and to that, and that

alone, must our moral consciousness adapt itself."

But as there is variety in the workings of the human mind, so there were

differences in the way wherein the religious idea was carried out.

Some regarded the sun and moon, the constellations and the planets, as

ministers of the unseen One, and, reasoning from what was known to

what was unknown, argued thus: "Throughout nature there seems to be a

dualism. In the sky there are a sun and moon; there are also sun and

earth, earth and sea. In every set of animals there are males and

females." An inquiry into the influence of the sun brought out the facts

that by themselves its beams were destructive; they were only beneficent

when the earth was moist with rain. As the rain from heaven, then,

caused things on earth to grow, it was natural that the main source of

light and heat should be regarded as a male, and the earth as a female.

As a male, the sun was supposed to have the emblems of virility, and a

spouse whom he impregnated, and who thereby became fertile.

In examining ancient Jewish, Phoenician, and other Shemitic cognomens,

I found that they consisted of a divine name and some attribute of the

deity, and that the last was generally referable equally to the Supreme,

to the Sun, as a god, and to the masculine emblem. If the deity was a

female, the name of her votary contained a reference to the moon and

the beauties or functions of women. The higher ideas of the Creator were

held only by a few, the many adopted a lower and more debased view. In

this manner the sun became a chief god and the moon his partner, and

the former being supposed to be male and the latter female, both

became associated with the ideas which all have of terrestrial animals.

Consequently the solar deity was associated in symbolism with masculine

and the moon with feminine emblems.

An inquiry into antiquity, as represented by Babylonians, Assyrians,

Egyptians, Phoenicians, Hebrews, Greeks, Etruscans, Romans, and others,

and into modern faiths still current, as represented in the peninsula of

India, in the Lebanon, and elsewhere, shows that ideas of sex have been

very generally associated with that of creation. God has been described

as a king, or as a queen, or as both united. As monarch, he is supposed

to be man, or woman, or both. As man differs from woman in certain

peculiarities, these very means of distinction have been incorporated

into the worship of god and goddess. Rival sects have been ranged in

ancient times under the symbol of the T and the O as in later times they

are under the cross and the crescent. The worship of God the Father has

repeatedly clashed with that of God the Mother, and the votaries of each

respectively have worn badges characteristic of the sex of their deity.

An illustration of this is to be seen amongst ourselves; one sect of

Christians adoring chiefly the Trinity, another reverencing the Virgin.

There is a well-known picture, indeed, of Mary worshipping her infant;

and to the former is given the title Mater Creatoris, "the mother of

the Creator." Our sexual sections are as well marked as those in ancient

Jerusalem, which swore by Jehovah and Ashtoreth respectively.

The idea of sexuality in religion is quite compatible with a ritual and

practice of an elaborate character, and a depth of piety which prefers

starvation to impurity, or, as the Bible has it, to uncleanness. To eat

"with the blood" was amongst the Hebrews a crime worthy of death; to eat

with unwashed hands was a dreadful offence in the eyes of the Pharisees

of Jerusalem; and in the recent famine in Bengal, we have seen that

individuals would rather die of absolute hunger, and allow their

children to perish too, than eat bread or rice which may have been

touched by profane hands, or drink milk that had been expressed by

British milkmaids from cows' udders. Yet these same Hindoos, the very

particular sect of the Brahmins, have amongst themselves a form of

worship which to our ideas is incompatible with real religion. The folks

referred to adore the Creator, and respect their ceremonial law even

more deeply, than did the Hebrews after the time of the Babylonish

captivity; but they have a secret cult in which--and in the most,

matter-of-fact way--they pay a very practical homage to one or other of

the parts which is thought by the worshipper to be a mundane emblem of

the Creator.

The curious will find in Essays on the Religion of the Hindus, by H. H.

Wilson, in the Dabistan, translated by Shea and Troyer (Allen and Co.,

London), 3 vols., 8vo., and in Memoirs of the Anthropological Society of

London (Truebner and Co.), vols. 1 and 2, much information on the method

of conducting the worship referred to. The first named author thinks it

advisable to leave the Brahminic "rubric" for the "Sakti Sodhana," for

the most part under the veil of the original Sanscrit, and I am not

disposed wholly to withdraw it.

But Christians are not pure; some of my readers may have seen a work

written by an Italian lady of high birth, who was in early life forced

into a nunnery, and who left it as soon as she had a chance. In her

account she tells us how the women in the monastery were seduced by

reverend Fathers, who were at one time the instruments of vice, at

another the guides to penitence. Their practice was to instruct their

victims that whatever was said or done must be accompanied by a pious

sentence. Thus, "I love you dearly" was a profane expression; but "I

desire your company in the name of Jesus," and "I embrace in you the

Holy Virgin," were orthodox. In like manner, the Hindus have prayers

prescribed for their use, when the parts are to be purified prior to

proceeding to extremities, when they are introduced to each other,

in the agitation which follows, and when the ceremony is completed.

Everything is done, as Ritualists would say, decently and in order; and

a pious orgie, sanctified by prayers, cannot be worse than the penance

ordained by some "confessors" to those faithful damsels whose minds are

plastic enough to believe that a priest is an embodiment of the Holy

Ghost, and that they become assimilated to the Blessed Virgin when they

are overshadowed by the power of the Highest (Luke i. 85).

There being, then, in "religion" a strong sensual element, ingenuity

has been exercised to a wonderful extent in the contrivance of designs,

nearly or remotely significant of this idea, or rather union of the

conceptions to which we have referred. Jupiter is a Proteus in form;

now a man, now a bull, now a swan, now an androgyne. Juno, or her

equivalent, is sometimes a woman, occasionally a lioness, and at times

a cow. All conceivable attributes of man and woman were symbolised; and

gods were called by the names of power, love, anger, desire, revenge,

fortune, etc. Everything in creation that resembled in any way the

presumed Creator, whether in name, in character, or in shape, was

supposed to represent the deity. Hence a palm tree was a religious

emblem, because it is long, erect, and round; an oak, for it is hard and

firm; a fig-tree, because its leaves resemble the male triad. The ivy

was sacred from a similar cause. A myrtle was also a type, but of the

female, because its leaf is a close representation of the vesica piscis.

Everything, indeed, which in any way resembles the characteristic organs

of man and woman, became symbolic of the one or the other deity, Jupiter

or Juno, Jehovah or Astarte, the Father or the Virgin. Sometimes, but

very rarely, the parts in question were depicted au naturel, and the

means by which creation is effected became the mundane emblem of the

Almighty; and two huge phalli were seen before a temple, as we now

see towers or spires before our churches, and minarets before mosques.

(Lucian, Dea Syria.)

Generally, however, it was considered the most correct plan to represent

the organs by some conventional form, understood by the initiated,

but not by the unlearned. Whatever was upright, and longer than broad,

became symbolic of the father; whilst that which was hollow, cavernous,

oval, or circular, symbolised the mother. A sword, spear, arrow, dart,

battering ram, spade, ship's prow, anything indeed intended to pierce

into something else was emblematic of the male; whilst the female was

symbolised as a door, a hole, a sheath, a target, a shield, a field,

anything indeed which was to be entered. The Hebrew names sufficiently

indicate the plan upon which the sexes were distinguished; the one is a

zachar, a perforator or digger, and the other nekebah, a hole or trench,

i, e. male and female.

These symbols were not necessarily those of religious belief. They might

indicate war, heroism, prowess, royalty, command, etc., or be nothing

more than they really were. They only symbolised the Creator when they

were adopted into religion. Again, there was a still farther refinement;

and advantage was taken of the fact, that one symbol was tripliform, the

other single; one of one shape, and the other different. Consequently,

a triangle, or three things, arranged so that one should stand above

the two, became emblematic of the Father, whilst an unit symbolised the

Mother.

These last three sentences deserve close attention, for some individuals

have, in somewhat of a senseless fashion, objected, that a person who

can see in a tortoise an emblem of the male, and in a horse-shoe an

effigy of the female organ, must be quite too fantastical to deserve

notice. But to me, as to other inquirers, these things are simply what

they appear to be when they are seen in common life. Yet when the former

creature occupies a large space in mythology; when the Hindoo places it

as the being upon which the world stands, and the Greeks represent one

Venus as resting upon a tortoise and another on a goat; and when one

knows that in days gone by, in which people were less refined, the

[--Greek--] was displayed where the horse-shoe is now, and that some

curiously mysterious attributes were assigned to the part in question;

we cannot refuse to see the thing signified in the sign.

Again, inasmuch as what we may call the most prominent part of the

tripliform organ was naturally changeable in character, being at one

time soft, small, and pendent, and at another hard, large, and upright,

those animals that resembled it in these respects became symbolical. Two

serpents, therefore, one Indian, and the other Egyptian, both of which

are able to distend their heads and necks, and to raise them up erect,

were emblematic, and each in its respective country typified the father,

the great Creator. In like manner, another portion of the triad was

regarded as similar in shape and size to the common hen's egg. As the

celebrated physiologist, Haller, remarked, "Omne vivum ex ovo" every

living thing comes from an egg; so more ancient biologists recognised

that the dual part of the tripliform organ was as essential to the

creation of a new being as the central pillar. Hence an egg and a

serpent became a characteristic of "the Father," El, Ab, Ach, Baal,

Asher, Melech, Adonai, Jahu, etc. When to this was added a half moon,

as in certain Tyrian coins, the trinity and unity were symbolised, and

a faith expressed like the one held in modern Rome, that the mother of

creation is co-equal with the father; the one seduces by her charms, and

the other makes them fructify.

To the Englishman, who, as a rule, avoids talking upon the subject which

forms the basis of many an ancient religion, it may seem incredible that

any individual, or set of writers, could have exercised their ingenuity

in finding circumlocutory euphemisms for things which, though natural,

are rarely named. Yet the wonder ceases when we find, in the writings of

our lively neighbours, the French, a host of words intended to describe

the parts referred to, which correspond wholly with the pictorial

emblems adopted by the Greeks and others.

As English writers have, as a rule, systematically avoided making any

distinct reference to the sexual ideas embodied in ancient Paganism,

so they have, by their silence, encouraged the formation of a school

of theology which has no solid foundation, except a very animal one. As

each individual finds out this for himself, it becomes a question with

him how far the information shall be imparted to others. So rarely has

the determination to accuse the vampire been taken, that we can point to

very few English books to which to refer our readers. We do not know one

such that is easily accessible; K. Payne Knight's work, and the addition

thereto, having been privately printed, is not often to be found in

the market. To give a list of the foreign works which the author has

consulted, prior to and during the composition of his book on Ancient

Faiths, would be almost equivalent to giving a catalogue of part of

his library. He may, however, indicate the name of one work which is

unusually valuable for reference, viz., Histoire abregee des Differens

Cultes, par J. A. Dulaure, 2 vols., small 8vo., Paris, 1825. Though

out of print, copies can generally be procured through second-hand

booksellers. Another work, 'Recherches sur les Mysteres de Paganisme,

by St. Croix, is equally valuable, but it is very difficult to procure a

copy.

The ancient Jews formed no exception to the general law of reverence

for the male emblem of the Creator; and though we would, from their

pretensions to be the chosen people of God, gladly find them exempt from

what we consider to be impurities, we are constrained to believe that,

even in the worship of Jehovah, more respect was given to the symbol

than we, living in modern times, think that it deserves. In their

Scriptures we read of Noah, whose infirm temper seems to have been on a

par with his weakness for wine, cursing one of his three sons because,

whilst drunk, he had negligently exposed his person, and the young

man had thought the sight an amusing one. Ham had no reverence for the

symbol of the Creator, but Shem and Japhet had, and covered it with a

veil as respectfully as if it had been the ineffable framer of the world

(Gen. ix. 21-27). As our feelings of propriety induce us to think that

the father was a far greater sinner than the son, we rejoice to know

that the causeless curse never fell, and that Ham, in the lands of

Canaan, Assyria, and Babylonia, and subsequently in Carthaginian Spain,

were the masters of those Hebrews, whose main force, in old times,

lay in impotent scoldings, such, as Shakespeare puts into the mouth of

Caliban.

One of the best proofs of the strong sexual element which existed in the

religion of the Jews is the fact that Elohim, one of the names of the

Creator amongst the Hebrews, is represented, Gen. xvii. 10-14, as making

circumcision a sign of his covenant with the seed of Abraham; and in

order to ascertain whether a man was to be regarded as being in the

covenant, God is supposed to have looked at the state of the virile

organ, or--as the Scripture has it--of the hill of the foreskin. We

find, indeed, that Jehovah was quite as particular, and examined a male

quite as closely as Elohim: for when Moses and Zipporah were on their

way from Midian to Egypt, Exod. iv. 24, Jehovah having looked at the

"trinity" of Moses' son, and having found it as perfect as when the lad

was born, sought to slay him, and would have done so unless the mother

had mutilated the organ according to the sacred pattern. Again, we find

in Josh. v. 2, and in the following verses, that Jehovah insisted

upon all the Hebrew males having their virile member in the covenant

condition ere they went to attack the Canaanites. We cannot suppose that

any scribe could dwell so much as almost every scriptural writer does

upon the subject of circumcision, had not the masculine emblem been held

in religious veneration amongst the Jewish nation.

But the David who leaped and danced, obscenely as we should say, before

the ark--an emblem of the female creator--who purchased his wife from

her royal father by mutilating a hundred Philistines, and presenting the

foreskins which he had cut off therefrom "in full tale" to the king (1

Sam. xviii. 27, 2 Sam. iii. 14), who was once the captain of a monarch

who thought it a shame beyond endurance to be abused, tortured, or slain

by men whose persons were in a natural condition (1 Sam. xxxi. 4),

and who imagined that he, although a stripling, could conquer a giant,

because the one had a sanctified and the other a natural member--is the

man whom we know as the author of Psalms with which Christians still

refresh their minds and comfort their souls. The king who, even in

his old age, was supposed to think so much of women that his courtiers

sought a lovely damsel as a comfort for his dying bed, is believed to

have been the author of the noble nineteenth Psalm, and a number of

others full of holy aspirations. It is clear, then, that sexual ideas

on religion are not incompatible with a desire to be holy. The two were

co-existent in Palestine; they are equally so in Bengal.

We next find that Abraham, the cherished man of God, the honoured

patriarch of the Jews, makes his servant lay his hand upon the master's

member, whilst he takes an oath to do his bidding, precisely like a more

modern Palestinian might do; and Jacob does the same with Joseph. See

Gen. xxiv. 8, and xlvii. 29.

As it is not generally known that the expression, "under my thigh," is

a euphemism for the words, "upon the symbol of the Creator," I may point

to two or three other passages in which the thigh (translated in the

authorised version loins) is used periphrastically: Genesis xxxv. 2,

xlvi. 26; Exod. i. 5. See Ginsburg, in Kitto's Biblical Cyclopadia, vol.

8, p. 848, 8. v. Oath.

I have on two occasions read, although I failed to make a note of it,

that an Arab, during the Franco-Egyptian war, when accused by General

Kleber of treachery, not only vehemently denied it, but when he saw

himself still distrusted, he uncovered himself before the whole military

staff, and swore upon his trinity that he was guiltless. In the Lebanon,

once in each year, every female considers it her duty to salute with her

lips the reverenced organ of the Old Sheik.

Again we learn, from Deut. xxiii. 1, that any unsanctified mutilation

of this part positively entailed expulsion from the congregation of the

Lord. Even a priest of the house of Aaron could not minister, as such,

if his masculinity had been in any way impaired (Lev. xxi. 20); and

report says that, in our Christian times, Popes have to be privately

perfect; see also Deut. xxv. 11, 12. Moreover, the inquirer finds that

the Jewish Scriptures teem with promises of abundant offspring to those

who were the favourites of Jehovah; and Solomon, the most glorious

of their monarchs, is described as if he were a Hercules amongst the

daughters of Thespius. Nothing can indicate the licentiousness of the

inhabitants of Jerusalem more clearly than the writings of Ezekiel.* If,

then, in Hebrew law and practice, we find such a strong infusion of the

sexual element, we cannot be surprised if it should be found elsewhere,

and gradually influence Christianity.

* See Ezekiel xxii. 1-30, and compare Jerem. v. 7, 8.

We must next notice the fact, that what we call impurity in religious

tenets does not necessarily involve indecency in practice. The ancient

Romans, in the time of the early kings, seem to have been as proper as

early Christian maidens. It is true that, in the declining days of the

empire, exhibitions that called forth the fierce denunciations of the

fathers of the Church took place; but we find very similar occurrences

in modern Christian capitals. In Spartan days, chastity and honesty

were not virtues, but drunkenness was a vice. In Christian England,

drunkenness is general, and we cannot pride ourselves upon universal

honesty and chastity. It is not the national belief, but the national

practice, which evidences a people's worth. Spain and Ireland, called

respectively "Catholic" and "the land of saints," cannot boast of

equality with "infidel" France and "free-thinking" Prussia. England will

be as earnest, as upright, and as civilised, when she has abandoned the

heathen elements in her religion, as when she hugs them as if necessary

to her spiritual welfare. Attachment to the good parts of religion is

wholly distinct from a close embrace of the bad ones; and we believe

he deserves best of his country who endeavours to remove every possible

source of discord. None can doubt the value of the order, "Do to others

as you would wish others to do to you." If all unite to carry this out,

small differences of opinion may at once be sunk. How worthless are

many of the dogmas that people now fight about, the following pages will

show.

In our larger work we have endeavoured to show that there may be a deep

sense of religion, a feeling of personal responsibility, so keen as to

influence every act of life, without there being a single symbol used.

The earnest Sakya Muni, or Buddha, never used anything as a sacred

emblem; nor did Jesus, who followed him, and perhaps unconsciously

propagated the Indian's doctrine. When the Apostles were sent out to

teach and preach, they were not told to carry out any form of ark or

crucifix. To them the doctrine of the Trinity was unknown, and not one

of them had any particular reverence for her whom we call the Virgin

Mary, who, if she was 'virgo intacta' when Jesus was born, was certainly

different when she bore his brothers. Paul and Peter, though said to be

the fathers of the Roman Church, never used or recommended the faithful

to procure for themselves "a cross" as an aid to memory. The early

Christians recognised each other by their deeds, and never had, like

the Jews, to prove that they were in covenant with God, by putting a

mutilated part of their body into full view. We, with the Society of

Friends, prefer primitive to modern Christianity.

In the following pages the author has felt himself obliged to make use

of words which are probably only known to those who are more or less

"scholars." He has to treat of parts of the human body, and acts which

occur habitually in the world, which in modern times are never referred

to in polite society, but which, in the period when the Old Testament

was written, were spoken of as freely as we now talk of our hands and

feet. In those days, everything which was common was spoken of without

shame, and that which occurred throughout creation, and was seen

by every one, was as much the subject of conversation as eating and

drinking is now. The Hebrew-writers were extremely coarse in their

diction, and although this has been softened down by subsequent

redactors, much which is in our modern judgment improper still remains.

For example, where we simply indicate the sex, the Jewish historians

used the word which was given to the symbol by which male and female

are known; for example, in Gen. i. 27, and v. 2, and in a host of other

places, the masculine and feminine are spoken of as zachar and nekebah,

which is best translated as "borers" and "bored." Another equally vulgar

way of describing men is to be found in 1 Kings xiv. 10. But these

observations would not serve us much in symbolism did we not know that

they were associated with certain euphemisms by which when one thing is

said another is intended; for an illustration let us take Isaiah vii.

20, and ask what is meant by the phrase, "the hair of the feet"? It is

certain that the feet are never hairy, and consequently can never be

shaved. Again, when we find in Gen. xlix. 10, "the sceptre shall not

depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet," and compare

this with Deut. xxviii. 57, and 2 Kings xviii. 27, where the words are,

in the original, "the water of their feet," it is clear that symbolic

language is used to express something which, if put into the vernacular,

would be objectionable to ears polite. Again, in Genesis xxiv. 2 and

xlvii. 29, and in Heb. xi. 21, it is well known to scholars that the

word "thigh" and "staff" are euphemisms to express that part which

represents the male. In Deut. xxiii. 1, we have evidence, as in the last

three verses quoted, of the sanctity of the part referred to, but the

language is less refined. Now-a-days our ears are not attuned to the

rough music which pleased our ancestors, and we have to use veiled

language to express certain matters. In the following pages, the words

which I select are drawn from the Latin, Greek, Sanscrit, Shemitic, or

Egyptian. Hea, Ann, and Asher replace the parts referred to in Deut.

xxiii. 1; Osiris, Asher, Linga, Mahadeva, Siva, Priapus, Phallus,

etc., represent the Hebrew zachar ; whilst Isis, Parvati, Yoni, Sacti,

Astarte, Ishtar, etc., replace the Jewish nekebah. The junction of these

parts is spoken of as Ashtoreth, Baalim, Elohim, the trinity and unity,

the androgyne deity, the arba, or mystic four, and the like.

I will only add, that what I refer to has long been known to almost

every scholar except English ones. Of these a few are learned; but for

a long period they have systematically refrained from speaking plainly,

and have written in such a manner as to be guilty not only of suppressio

veri but of suggestio falsi.

After reading thus far, I can imagine many a person saying with

astonishment, "Are these things so?" and following up his thoughts by

wondering what style of persons they were, or are, who could introduce

into religion such matters as those of which we have treated.

In reply, I can only say that I have nothing extenuated, and set

down nought in malice. But the first clause of the assertion requires

modification, for in this volume there are many things omitted which I

have referred to at length in my larger work. In that I have shown, not

only that religious fornication existed in ancient Babylon, but that

there is reason to believe that it existed also in Palestine. The word

[--Hebrew--] Kadesh, which signifies "pure, bright, young, to be holy,

or to be consecrated," is also the root from which are formed the words

Kadeshah and Kadeshim, which are used in the Hebrew writings, and are

translated in our authorised version "whore" and "sodomite." See Bent,

xxiii. 17.

Athanasius tells us something of this as regards the Phoenicians, for

he says, (Oratio Contr. Gent., part i., p. 24.) "Formerly, it is

certain that Phoenician women prostituted themselves before their idols,

offering their bodies to their gods in the place of first fruits, being

persuaded that they pleased the goddess by that means, and made her

propitious to them."

Strabo mentions a similar occurrence at Comana, in Pontus, book xiii.,

c. iii. p. 86--and notices that an enormous number of women were

consecrated to the use of worshippers in the temple of Venus at Corinth.

Such women exist in India, and the priests of certain temples do

everything in their power to select the loveliest of the sex, and to

educate them so highly as to be attractive.

The customs which existed in other places seem to have been known in

Jerusalem, as we find in 1 Kings xiv. 24., XV. 12, that Kadeshim

were common in Judea, and in 2 Kings xxiii. 7, we discover that these

"consecrated ones" were located "by the temple," and were associated

with women whose business was "to make hangings for the grove." What

these tissues were and what use was made of them will be seen in Ezekiel

xvi. 16.

Even David, when dancing before the ark, shamelessly exposed himself.

Solomon erected two pillars in the porch of his temple, and called

them Jachin and Boaz, and added pomegranate ornaments. We have seen how

Abraham and Jacob ordered their inferiors to swear by putting the hand

upon "the thigh"; and we have read of the atrocities which occurred in

Jerusalem in the time of Ezekiel. Yet the Jews are still spoken of as

God's chosen people, and the Psalmist as a man after God's own heart.

But without going so far back, let us inquire into the conduct of the

sensual Turks, and of the general run of the inhabitants of Hindostan.

From everything that I can learn--and I have repeatedly conversed with

those who have known the Turks and Hindoos familiarly--these are in

every position in life as morally good as common Christians are.

My readers must not now assert that I am either a partisan or a special

pleader when I say this; they must consider that I am making the

comparison as man by man. I do not, as missionaries do, compare the most

vicious Mahomedan and Brahmin with the most exemplary Christian; nor do

I, on the other hand, compare the best Ottoman and Indian with Christian

criminals; but I take the whole in a mass, and assert that there is

as large a percentage of good folks in India and Turkey as there is in

Spain and France, England or America.

The grossest form of worship is compatible with general purity of

morals. The story of Lucretia is told of a Pagan woman, whilst those

of Er and Onan, Tamar and Judah relate to Hebrews. David, who seduced

Bathsheba, and killed her husband, was not execrated by "God's people,"

nor was he consequently driven from his throne as Tarquin was by the

Romans.

In prowess and learning, the Babylonians, with their religious

prostitution, were superior to the "chosen people." Of the wealth and

enterprise of the Phoenicians, Ancient History tells us abundance.

There are probably no three cities in ancient or modern times which

contain so many vicious individuals as London, Paris, and New York. Yet

there are none which history tells us of that were more powerful. No

Babylonian army equalled in might or numbers the army of the Northern

United States. Nineveh never wielded armies equal to those of the French

Napoleon and the German William, and Rome never had an empire equal to

that which is headed by London.

The existence of personal vice does not ruin a nation in its collective

capacity. Nor does the most sensual form of religion stunt the

prosperity of a people, so long as the latter do not bow their necks to

a priesthood.

The greatest curse to a nation is not a bad religion, but a form of

faith which prevents manly inquiry. I know of no nation of old that was

priest-ridden which did not fall under the swords of those who did not

care for hierarchs.

The greatest danger is to be feared from those ecclesiastics who wink at

vice, and encourage it as a means whereby they can gain power over their

votaries. So long as every man does to other men as he would that they

should do to him, and allows no one to interfere between him and his

Maker, all will go well with the world.

Whilst the following sheets were going through the press, my friend Mr.

Newton, who has not only assisted me in a variety of ways, but who has

taken a great deal of interest in the subject of symbolism, gave me

to understand that there were some matters in which he differed

very strongly from me in opinion. One of these was as to the correct

interpretation of the so-called Assyrian grove; another was the

signification of one of Lajard's gems, Plate iv., Fig. 3; and the most

conspicuous of our divergencies was respecting the fundamental, or basic

idea, which prompted the use in religion of those organs of reproduction

which have, from time immemorial, been venerated in Hindostan, and, as

far as we can learn, in Ancient Egypt, Babylonia, Assyria, Tyre, Sidon,

Carthage, Jerusalem, Etruria, Greece, and Rome, as well as in countries

called uncivilised. I feel quite disposed to acquiesce in the opinions

which my old friend has formed respecting the Assyrian grove, but I am

not equally ready to assent to his other opinions.

Where two individuals are working earnestly for the elucidation of

truth, there ought, in my opinion, to be not only a tolerance of

disagreement, but an honest effort to submit the subject to a jury of

thoughtful readers.

As I should not feel satisfied to allow any other person to express my

opinions in his words, it seemed to me only fair to Mr. Newton to give

him the facility of enunciating his views in his own language. It was

intended, originally, that my friend's observations upon the

"grove" should be followed by a dissertation upon other relics of

antiquity--notably upon that known as Stonehenge--but circumstances have

prevented this design being carried into execution.

When two individuals who have much in common go over the same ground,

it is natural, indeed almost necessary, that they should dwell upon

identical topics. Hence it will be found that there are points which are

referred to by us both, although possibly in differing relationship.

As my own part of the following remarks were printed long before I saw

Mr. Newton's manuscript, I hope to be pardoned for allowing them to

stand. The bulk of the volume will not be increased to the extent of a

full page.

If I were to be asked the reason why I differ from Mr. Newton in his

exalted idea about the adoption of certain bodily organs as types,

tokens, or emblems of an unseen and an inscrutable Creator, my answer

would be drawn from the observations made upon every known order of

priesthood, from the most remote antiquity to the present time. No

matter what the creed, whether Ancient or Modern, the main object of its

exponents and supporters is to gain over the minds of the populace.

This has never yet been done, and probably never will be attempted, by

educating the mind of the multitude to think.

In Great Britain we find three sets of hierarchs opposed to each other,

and all equally, by every means in their power, prohibit independent

inquiry.

A young Romanist convert, as we have recently seen, is discouraged

from persevering in the study of history and logic; a Presbyterian is

persecuted, as far as the law of the land permits, if he should engage

in an honest study of the Bible, of the God which it presents for our

worship, and of the laws that it enforces. A bishop of the Church of

England is visited by the puny and spiteful efforts of some of his

nominal equals if he ventures to treat Jewish writings as other critics

study the tomes of Livy or of Herodotus.

One set of men have banded together to elect a god on earth, and

endeavour to coerce their fellow-mortals to believe that a selection

by a few old cardinals can make the one whom they choose to honour

"infallible."

Another set of men, who profess to eschew the idea of infallibility in a

Pope, assume that they possess the quality themselves, and endeavour to

blot out from the communion of the faithful those who differ from them

"on points which God hath left at large."

Surely, when with all our modern learning, thought, and scientific

enquiry, hierarchs still set their faces against an advance in

knowledge, and quell, if possible, every endeavour to search after

truth, we are not far wrong when we assert, that the first priests of

barbarism had no exalted views of such an abstract subject as life, in

the higher and highest senses, if indeed in any sense of the word.

Another small point of difference between my friend and me is,

whether there has been at any time a figured representation of a

kakodoemon--except since the beginning of Christianity--and if, by way

of stretching a point, we call Typhon--Satan or the Devil--by this

name, as being opposed to the Agathodoemon, whether we are justified

in providing this evil genius with wings. As far as I can judge from

Chaldean and Assyrian sculptures, wings were given to the lesser deities

as our artists assign them to modern angels. The Babylonian Apollyon,

by whatever name he went, was winged--but so were all the good gods. The

Egyptians seem to have assigned wings only to the favourable divinities.

The Jews had in their mythology a set of fiery flying serpents, but we

must notice that their cherubim and seraphim were all winged, some with

no less than three pairs--much as Hindoo gods have four heads and six,

or any other number of arms.

Mr. Newton assumes that the dragon mentioned in Rev. xii. was a winged

creature, but it is clear from the context, especially from verses 14

and 15, that he had no pinions, for he was unable to follow the woman to

whom two aerial oars had been given.

The dragon, as we know it, is, I believe, a mediaeval creation; such a

creature is only spoken of in the Bible in the book of Revelation, and

the author of that strange production drew his inspiration on this point

from the Iliad, where a dragon is described as of huge size, coiled like

a snake, of blood-red colour, shot with changeful hues, and having three

heads. Homer, Liddell, and Scott add--used [--Greek--] indifferently for

a serpent. So does the author of Rev. in ch. xx. 2. I have been unable

to discover any gnostic gem with anything like a modern dragon on it.

Holding these views, I cannot entertain the proposition that the winged

creatures in the very remarkable gem already referred to are evil genii.

In a question of this kind the mind is perhaps unconsciously biassed by

comparing one antiquarian idea with another. A searcher amongst Etruscan

vases will see not only that the angel of death is winged, but that

Cupid, Eros, or by whatever other name "desire" or love goes, frequently

hovers over the bridal or otherwise voluptuous couch, and attends beauty

at her toilet. The Greeks also gave to Eros a pair of wings, intended,

it is fancied, to represent the flutterings of the heart, produced when

lovers meet or even think of each other. Such a subordinate deity would

be in place amongst so many sexual emblems as Plate iv. Fig. 3 contains,

whilst a koakdoemon would be a "spoil sport," and would make the erected

serpents drop rather than remain in their glory.

These matters are apparently of small importance, but when one is

studying the signification of symbolical language, he has to pay as

close an attention, and extend the net of observation over as wide a sea

as a scholar does when endeavouring to decipher some language written

in long-forgotten characters, and some divergence of opinion between

independent observers sharpens the intellect more than it tries the

temper.

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