“Woman, the poetry of Nature,” says an elegant writer of the present day,
“has ever been the theme of the minstrel, and the idol of the poet’s
devotion. The only ideas we entertain of a celestial nature are associated
with her; in her praise the world has been exhausted of its beauties, and
she is linked with the stars and the glories of the universe, as if,
though dwelling in a _lowlier_ sphere, she belonged to a _superior_
world.”
This deification of the _female character_ was the true _substance_ of
those imaginary _goddesses_, so sadly disfigured by the circumscribed
stupidity of Greek and Roman mythologists. _Juno_, _Baaltis_, _Diana_,
_Babia_, _Venus_, _Aphrodite_, _Derceto_, _Militta_, _Butsee_,
_Semiramis_, _Astarte_, _Io_, _Luna_, _Rimmon_, _Lucina_, _Genitalis_,
_Ourania_, _Atargatis_, etc. etc., were all but fictitious and ideal
forms, resolving themselves into _one and the same representation_ of that
sweetest ornament of the creation, _woman_; and the same terms being
applied to the _moon_, with the same _symbolic_ force and the same
_typical_ significance, illustrates the aptitude of that _tributary_
quotation, with which this chapter has commenced, and to the beauty of
which the heart of every “man that is born of woman” must feelingly
respond.
Europa itself, now geographically appropriated, as a denomination, to one
of the quarters of the globe, was originally synonymous with any of the
above-mentioned names; and partook in the acquiescence paid by adoring
millions to the all-fascinating object of so refined an allegory.
Of all those various epithets, however vitiated by time, or injured by
accommodation to different climates and languages, the import--intact and
undamaged--is still preserved in the _primitive Irish tongue_, and in that
alone; and with the fertility of conception whereby it engendered _all
myths_, and kept the human intellect suspended by its _verbal
phantasmagoria_, we shall find the _drift_ and the _design_, the _type_
and the _thing typified_, united in the ligature of one _appellative
chord_, which to the _enlightened_ and the _few_ presented a chastened yet
sublime and microscopic _moral_ delineation; but to the _profane_ and the
_many_ was an impenetrable night producing submission the most slavish,
and mental prostration the most abject; or, whenever a ray of the
_equivoque_ did happen to reach their eyes--perverted, with that
propensity which we all have to the depraved, into the most reckless
indulgence and the most profligate _licentiousness_.
In the limits here prescribed for the development of our _outline_--which
even the most heedless must have observed, instead of being compressed, as
intended within the compass of one volume could more easily have been
dilated to the magnitude of four--it cannot be supposed that I could
dwell, with much minuteness, upon the several collateral particulars to
which I may incidentally refer. As, however, that _twofold tenour_ to
which I have above alluded, may require something more in the way of
illustration, I shall take any two of the aggregate of names there
collected, and in them exemplify what has been said.
Suppose them to be _Militta_ and _Astarte_. Of these, then, the first
means _appetency_, such as is natural between the sexes; and the second
_dalliance_, of the same _mutual_ sort; and while both alike typify the
_delights_ of _love_, they both equally personate the _mistress_ of the
_starry_ firmament whose influence was courted for the maturity of all
such connection, as the season of her splendour is the most suitable for
its gratification.
From _Astarte_ (Ασταρτη), the Greeks formed _Aster_ (Αστηρ) a star,
thereby retaining but one branch of this duplicity. The Irish deduced from
it the well-known endearment, _Astore_; and I believe I do not exaggerate
when I affirm that, in the whole circuit of dialectal enunciations, there
exists not another sound calculated to convey to a native of this country
so many commingling ideas of _tender pathos_, and of _exalted adventure_,
as this syllabic representation of the _lunar_ deity.[234]
Such was _Sabaism_,--composed of love, religion, and astrology: such too
was _Budhism_, as I have already shown; and _Phallism_ being but another
name, equivalent with this latter, it follows that the whole
three--_Sabaism_, _Budhism_, and _Phallism_--are, to all intents and
purposes, but _identically one_.
This being about to be demonstrated, a few pages forwards, as _the oldest
species of worship recognised upon earth_, it were needless, one would
hope, to enter into a comparison in point of antiquity between it and any
of its living derivatives. But as many learned men, misled by that cloud
which heretofore enveloped the subject, have promulgated the belief that
_Brahminism_ was the parent stock, whence _Budhism_, with its adjuncts,
diverged as a scion, I shall, omitting others, address myself to the
consideration of Mr. Colebrooke’s arguments, which I select from the mass
in deference to a character so honourably interwoven with the revival of
Eastern literature.
“The mythology of the orthodox Hindus,” says this venerable and good man,
“their present chronology, adapted to astronomical periods, their
legendary tales, and their mystical allegories, are abundantly
extravagant, but the Jains and the Bauddhas surpass them in monstrous
exaggerations of the same kind. In this rivalship of absurd fiction it
would not be unreasonable to pronounce that to be the most modern which
has outgone the rest.”
His second position is, that “the Greek writers who mention the Bramins,
speak of them as a flourishing society, whereas the Budhists they
represent as an inconsiderable handful: therefore,” etc.
To the first I shall oppose Dr. Buchanan’s testimony, who states that
“however idle and ridiculous the legends and notions of the worshippers of
Bouddha may be, they have been in a great measure adopted by the Brahmins,
_but with all their defects monstrously aggravated_.”
And even had we not this rebutting evidence the inference in itself is
decidedly weak; for it would go equally to establish that _Romanism_ is
more recent than _Protestantism_, as containing a greater number of
ceremonial observances than this latter does: whereas the reverse is what
_reason_ would lead us to conclude, namely, that _ritual multiplications_
are the growth of _longevity_, and that the retrenchment of their number
is what reformation aspires to.
I make a free-will offering, unrestricted and unimpeded, of all the value
that can belong to Grecian historians--the Greeks, whom their own
countryman, Lucian, so justly banters as distinguished for nothing so much
as a total indifference to truth! But admitting them to be as veracious as
they were notoriously not so, the intercourse, of the very earliest of
them, with India and its dependencies, was much too modern, to allow their
statements to be further conclusive, than as refers to the time being: and
I am very ready to allow that, at the particular moment described, the
Budhists were in the wane, while the Brahmins ruled ascendant--nay, that
there were but a few straggling votaries of the former creed then existing
at all in that country, the latter, though schismatics from the
ecclesiastical root, having, by gaining over the civil power on their
side, effected their expulsion many ages before.
The subterranean temples of Gyah, Ellora, Salsette, Elephanta, and those
other monuments of piety and civil eminence which still shed a lustre over
India, and which no subsequent state of the arts could rival, much less
eclipse, owe their existence to an era anterior to this catastrophe. The
Budhists were the architects when in the zenith of human power. The
sculptures and devices establish this fact: for of the whole list of
deities personated in those inscriptions, the Brahmins have retained none
but such as suited their purpose. These, in all conscience, were numerous
enough; and as the Brahmins, when at the helm, permitted not the
introduction of “strange gods,” it is evident that those, which they have
in common with the Budhists, are but _cullings_ from the “mother-church,”
ill-understood and worse interpreted; the similarity, however, being still
so great as, after a lapse of centuries, to give rise to the question of,
whether the stem or the branch, the sire or the offspring, had the
priority in point of time!
“J’ai remarqué,” says the philosopher Bailly, “que les Brames aimaient à
être appellés Paramènes, par respect pour la mémoire de leurs ancêtres,
qui portoient ce nom.”[235] Monsieur Gebelin is more explicit. “Pausanias
nous dit, que Mercure, le même que Butta, ou Budda, un des fondateurs de
la doctrines des Paramènes, ou Brames, est appellé Paramon.”[236]
This Paramon, who had seceded from the Budhist doctrine, and placed
himself at the head of that sect who still bear his name, was the son of
_Budh-dearg_, a religious denomination, most painfully inexplicable to
inquirers into those matters, but which _one, at least_, from his
acquaintance with the Irish language, should have better known. “I think,”
says Vallancey, “_dearg_ is a contraction for _darioga_, rex supremus,
which corresponds with the Chaldæan _darag_, dux, an epithet given to
_Budya_!”
All those words, in fact, _dearg_, _darioga_, and _darag_, are _one and
the same_, adjuncts, it is true, of Budya, but meaning neither _dux_,
_rex_, nor _supremus_, except inasmuch as they were _his_ epithets, the
correct rendering being _red_, which, added to Budh, signifies the _Red
Lingam_, the _Sardana-palus_, the _Eocad_, the _Penis sanctus_, the _god_
of _nature_, the _ruber palus_, the _Helio-go-balus_, the _corporeal
spirit_, the _agent of production_, the _type of life_, as it is also the
_concurrent symbol of universal dissolution_.
These several terms, which are, each and all, convertible, pourtray not
only the procreative powers of the _male_ world personified, but likewise
its symbols, which were the _Round Towers_; and not these only, but
_Obelisks_[237] also, and _naturally erect_ stones,[238] which though not
circularly fashioned, yet typified, in their ascension, the upward bent of
all vegetable growth.
This is the true solution of those enigmatical _lithoi_, by which the
ancients represented the _bounty_ of Providence. _Maghody_ was the name
appropriated to him under this character; and the import of this word
conveying, literally, the idea of the _Good God_, shows the philosophic
feeling, no less than it does the religious seriousness, of the grateful
contrivers.[239] And while reminded by the thought, perhaps I may be
permitted, with humble deference, to suggest to literary gentlemen
occupied in the translation of Eastern manuscripts, that whenever they
meet with any proper name of the inconceivable Godhead, or of any place or
temple devoted to his use, and beginning with the word _Magh_; such as
_Magh_-Balli-Pura;[240] they should not render _Magh_ by _great_,--which
hitherto had been the practice,--but by _good_; as it is not the _power_
of the divinity that is thereby meant to be signified, but his _bounty_:
such as his votaries chiefly supplicated, and such as was most influential
to ensure their fealty.
“Christnah, the Indian Apollo, is the darling,” says Archer, “of the
Hindoo ladies; and in his pranks, and the demolishing pitchers of milk, or
milk-pitchers, has acquired a fame infinitely surpassing that enjoyed by
the hero of the agreeable ditty entitled _Kitty of Coleraine_!”
I confess I do not understand the levity of temperament which betrays
itself in this witticism. For my part I cannot contemplate any form of
religion without a sensation of awe. There may be much imposture, much
also of hypocrisy, and no small share of self-delusion amongst
_individuals_ of every sect, but sincerity will be found in the
_aggregate_ of each: and where _certainty_ is not attainable by finite
comprehensions, nay, where _unity_ is incompatible with freedom of thought
and will, it would more become us, methinks, to make allowance for each
other’s weaknesses, than to vilify any worship, which, after all, may only
differ from our own as to mode. Christianity, beyond a question, does not
inculcate such intolerance. The _true_ follower of that faith recognises
in every _altar_ an evidence of common piety; perceives in every
articulation of the name of _Lord_, a mutual sense of dependence and a
similar appeal for succour; and taking these as inlets into the character
of the supplicant, he traces an approximation to that hope whereby he is
himself sustained, and rejoices in the discovery: yet it is no less true,
that, when superadded to these generalities, he beholds the “image” of his
Creator, acknowledging the mission of the second Godhead, and, by reliance
on the all-fulness of his immaculate atonement, immersed in the waters of
regenerating grace, his bosom expands with _more_ gladness, and he
welcomes the stranger as a brother.
That the rebuke here intended is not gratuitous or uncalled for, I refer
to the testimony of Sir William Jones, who, with some infusion, I regret,
of the same irony and incredulity, offers the following portrait, the
result of tardy conviction of the superhuman qualifications of this
identical Christnah, viz.: “The prolix accounts of his life are filled
with narratives of a most extraordinary kind, and most strangely
variegated. This incarnate deity of Sanscrit romance was not only cradled,
but educated among shepherds. A tyrant, at the time of his birth, ordered
all the male infants to be slain. He performed amazing, but ridiculous
miracles, and saved multitudes partly by his miraculous powers, and partly
by his arms: and raised the dead, by descending for that purpose into the
infernal regions. He was the meekest and best tempered of beings; washed
the feet of the Brahmans, and preached indeed sublimely, but always in
their favour. He was pure and chaste in reality, but exhibited every
appearance of libertinism. Lastly, he was benevolent and tender, and yet
fomented and conducted a terrible war.”
Mahony, also, is a reluctant witness to the same effect. “The religion of
Bhoodha,” says he, “as far as I have had any insight into it, seems to be
founded on a mild and simple morality. Bhoodha has taken for his
principles _wisdom_, _justice_, and _benevolence_; from which principles
emanate ten commandments, held by his followers as the true and only rule
of their conduct. He places them under three heads, _thought_, _word_, and
_deed_; and it may be said that the spirit of them is becoming and
well-suited to him, whose mild nature was first shocked at the sacrifice
of cattle.”[241]
I have already shown that Budha is but a title, embodying an abstract;
that, therefore, it was not limited to one individual, but applied
indiscriminately to a series. As I shall soon bring this succession nearer
to _our own fire-hearths_, and, in a way, perhaps, which may, else,
electrify over-sensitive nerves, it may be prudent that I should premise
another citation, descriptive of an answer, made by a dignitary of their
creed, to the last-mentioned author upon his enunciating a principle of
the Hindoo doctrine. “The Hindoos,” rejoined the priest, “must surely be
little acquainted with this subject, by this allusion to only one
(incarnation). Bhoodha, if they mean Bhoodha Dhannan Raja, became man, and
appeared as such in the world at different periods, during ages before he
had qualified himself to be a Bhoodha. These various incarnations took
place by his supreme will and pleasure, and in consequence of his superior
qualifications and merits. I am therefore inclined to believe, that the
Hindoos, who thus speak of the incarnation of a Bhoodha, cannot allude to
him whose religion and law I preach, who is now a resident of the hall of
glory, situated above the twenty-sixth heaven.”
Now it is stated in the Puranas, that a giant, named Sancha-mucha-naga, in
the shape of a _snake_, with a mouth like a _shell_, and whose abode was
in a shell, having two countenances, was killed by _Christnah_; and as
this irresistibly directs our reflection to the early part of the Book of
Genesis, I shall adduce what Mr. Deane has set forth on this latter head.
“The tradition of the serpent,” says he, “is a chain of many links, which,
descending from Paradise, reaches, in the energetic language of Homer,
‘Τοσσον ἕνερθ’ ἀϊδεω, ὅσον ουρανός ἐστ’ ἀπο γαίης,’
but conducts, on the other hand, upwards to the promise, that ‘the seed of
the woman should bruise the serpent’s head.’... The mystic serpent entered
into the mythology of every nation, consecrated almost every temple,
symbolised almost every deity, was imagined in the heavens, stamped upon
the earth, and ruled in the realms of everlasting sorrow.... This
universal concurrence of traditions proves a common source of derivation,
and the oldest record of the legend must be that upon which they are all
founded. The most ancient record of the history of the serpent-tempter is
the Book of Genesis! In the Book of Genesis, therefore, is the fact from
which almost every superstition connected with the mythological serpent is
derived.”[242]
That “the oldest record of the legend must be that upon which they are
all founded,” no one can gainsay, inasmuch as the parent is always senior
to the offspring: but it is not quite such a _truism_ that “the most
ancient record of the history of the serpent-tempter is the Book of
Genesis.” Before a line of it was ever written, or its author even
conceived, the allegory of the serpent was propagated all over the world.
Temples, constructed thousands of years prior to the birth of Moses, bear
the impress of its history. “The extent and permanence of the
superstition,” says the erudite ex-secretary of the Asiatic Society, now
Professor of Sanscrit in the University of Oxford, “we may learn from
Abulfazl, who observes that in seven hundred places there are carved
figures of snakes, which they worship. There is, likewise, reason to
suppose that this worship was diffused throughout the _whole_ of India,
as, besides, the numerous fables and traditions relating to the _Nagas_,
or _snake-gods_, scattered through the Puranas, vestiges of it still
remain in the actual observances of the Hindus.”
To explore the origin, however, of this Ophite veneration, all the efforts
of ingenuity have hitherto miscarried: and the combination of _solar_
symbols with it, in some places of its appearance, has, instead of
facilitating, augmented the difficulty. “The portals of all the Egyptian
temples,” observes the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, “are decorated with the
same hierogram of the _circle_ and the _serpent_. We find it also upon the
temple of Naki Rustan, in Persia; upon the triumphal arch at Pechin, in
China; over the gates of the great temple of Chaundi Teeva, in Java; upon
the walls of Athens; and in the temple of Minerva, at Tegea--for the
Medusa’s head, so common in Grecian sanctuaries, is nothing more than the
Ophite hierogram, filled up by a human face. Even Mexico, remote as it was
from the ancient world, has preserved, with Ophiolatreia, its universal
symbol.”[243]
How would Mr. Deane account for this commixture? “The votaries of the
sun,” says he, “having taken possession of an Ophite temple, adopted some
of its rites, and thus in process of time arose the compound religion,
whose god was named Apollo.”
But, sir, the symbols are _coeval_, imprinted _together_ upon those
edifices at the _very moment_ of their construction; and, therefore, “no
process of time” was required to amalgamate a religion whose god (it is
true) was Apollo, but which was already inseparable, and, though compound,
one.
[Illustration]
I have before established the sameness of design which belonged,
indifferently, to _solar_ worship and to _phallic_. I shall, ere long,
prove that the same characteristic extends equally to _ophiolatreia_; and
if _they all three be identical_, as it thus necessarily follows, where is
the occasion for surprise at our meeting the _sun_, _phallus_, and
_serpent_, the constituent symbols of each, _embossed upon the same
table_, and _grouped_ under the same _architrave_?
“Here,” says a correspondent in the supplement to the _Gentleman’s
Magazine_ of August last, “we have the umbilicated _moon_ in her state of
opposition to the sun, and the sign of fruitfulness. She was also, in the
doctrines of Sabaism, the northern gate, by which Mercury conducted souls
to birth, as mentioned by Homer in his description of the Cave of the
Nymphs, and upon which there remains a commentary by Porphyry. Of this
cave Homer says--
‘Fountains it had eternal, and two gates,
The northern one to men admittance gives;
That to the south is more divine--a way
Untrod by men, t’ immortals only known.’
“The _Cross_, in Gentile rites, was the symbol of reproduction and
resurrection. It was, as Shaw remarks, ‘the same with the ineffable image
of eternity that is taken notice of by Suidas.’ The _Crescent_ was the
lunar ship or ark that bore, in Mr. Faber’s language, the Great Father and
the Great Mother over the waters of the deluge; and it was also the emblem
of the boat or ship which took aspirants over the lakes or arms of the sea
to the Sacred Islands, to which they resorted for initiation into the
mysteries: and over the river of death to the mansions of Elysium; the
_Cockatrice_ was the snake-god. It was also the basilisk or cock-adder.
‘Habet caudem ut coluber, residuum vero corpus ut gallus.’ The Egyptians
considered the basilisk as the emblem of eternal ages: ‘esse quia vero
videtur ζωῆς κυριεύειν καὶ θανάτον, ex auro conformatum capitibus deorum
appingebant Ægyptii.’ What relation had this with the Nehustan or Brazen
Serpent, to which the Israelites paid divine honours in the time of
Hezekiah? What is the circle with the seasons at the equinoxes and
solstices marked upon it?--the signs of the four great pagan festivals
celebrated at the commencement of each of these seasons? The corner of the
stone which is broken off probably contained some symbol. I am not
hierophant enough to unriddle and explain the hidden tale of this
combination of hieroglyphics. We know that the sea-goat and the Pegasus on
tablets and centeviral stones, found on the walls of Severus and
Antoninus, were badges of the second, and the boar of the twentieth
legion; but this bas-relief seems to refer, in some dark manner, to
matters connected with the ancient heathen mysteries. The form of the
border around them is remarkable. The stone which bears them was, I
apprehend, brought in its present state from Vindolana, where, as I have
observed, an inscription to the Syrian goddess was formerly found. The
station of Magna also, a few years since, produced a long inscription to
the same goddess in the Iambic verse of the Latin comedians; and a cave,
containing altars to Mithras, and a bust of that god, seated between the
two hemispheres and surrounded by the twelve signs of the Zodiac, besides
other signa and ἄγαλματα of the Persian god, was opened at Borcovicus only
about ten years since. These, therefore, and other similar remains, found
in the Roman stations in the neighbourhood of Vindolana, induce me to
think that the symbols under consideration, and now for the first time
taken notice of, were originally placed near the altars of some divinity
in the station of the Bowers-in-the-Wood. I know of no establishment that
the Knights Templars had in this neighbourhood.”
The modesty of “V. W.” is not less than his diligence; and both, I
consider, exemplary and great. But he will excuse me when I tell him that
the _Cross_, the _Crescent_, and the _Cockatrice_, are still _maiden_
subjects after his hands. Neither Faber, Shaw, nor Suidas, pretend even to
approach those matters, save in their _emblematic_ sense; and, as every
emblem must have a substratum, I for one, cannot content myself with that
remote and secondary knowledge which is imparted by the _exoteric type_,
but must enter the penetralia, and explore the secrets of the _eisoteric
temple_.
“As an old serpent casts his scaly vest,
Wreaths in the sun in youthful glory dress’d;
So, when Alcides’ mortal mould resign’d,
His better part enlarg’d, and grew refin’d;
August his visage shone; almighty Jove
In his swift car his honoured offspring drove:
High o’er the hollow clouds the coursers fly,
And lodge the hero in the starry sky.”[244]