CHAPTER II.

PHALLISM IN ANCIENT RELIGIONS.

Dr. Faber, when treating of the ancient mysteries in opposition to

Bishop Warburton’s views of their original purity, says: “Long before

the time of Apuleius, whom he (Warburton) would describe as quitting

the impure orgies of the Syrian Goddess for the blameless initiations

of Isis, did the Phallic processions, if we may credit Herodotus and

Diodorus, form a most conspicuous and essential part, not only of the

mysteries in general, but of these identical Isiac or Osiric mysteries

in particular. Nor is there any reason to doubt their accuracy on this

point. The same detestable rites prevailed in Palestine among the

votaries of Siton, or Adonis, or Baal-Peor, long before the exodus of

Israel from Egypt. The same also, anterior at least to the days of

Herodotus, in Babylonia, Cyprus, and Lydia. The same likewise from

the most remote antiquity in the mountains of Armenia, among the

worshippers of the great mother Anais; and the same, from the very

first institution of their theological system, as we may fairly argue

from the uniform general establishment of this peculiar superstition,

among the Celtic Druids both of Britain and of Ireland. Nor do we find

such orgies less prevalent in Hindostan. Every part of the theology of

that country ... is inseparably blended with them, and replete with

allusions to their fictitious origin.”[4] It will not be necessary

for me to give details of the rites by which the Phallic superstition

is distinguished, as they may be found in the works of Dulaure,[5]

Richard Payne Knight,[6] and many other writers. I shall refer to them,

therefore, only so far as may be required for the due understanding

of the subject to be considered, the influence of the Phallic idea

in the religions of antiquity. The first step in the inquiry is to

ascertain the origin of the superstition in question. Faber ingeniously

referred to a primitive universal belief in a Great Father, the curious

connection seen to exist between nearly all non-Christian mythologies,

and he saw in Phallic worship a degradation of this belief. Such an

explanation as this, however, is not satisfactory, since not only does

it require the assumption of a primitive divine revelation, but proof

is still wanting that all peoples have, or ever had, any such notion

of a great parent of mankind as that supposed to have been revealed.

And yet there is a valuable germ of truth in this hypothesis. The

Phallic superstition is founded essentially in the family idea. Captain

Richard Burton recognised this truth when he asserted that “amongst

all barbarians whose primal want is progeny, we observe a greater or

less development of the Phallic worship.”[7] This view, however, is

imperfect. There must have been something more than a mere desire for

progeny to lead primitive man to view the generative process with the

peculiar feelings embodied in this superstition. We are, in fact, here

taken to the root of all religions—awe at the mysterious and unknown.

That which the uncultured mind cannot understand is viewed with dread

or veneration, as it may be, and the object presenting the mysterious

phenomenon may itself be worshipped as a fetish or the residence of

a presiding spirit. But there is nothing more mysterious than the

phenomena of generation, and nothing more important than the final

result of the generative act. Reflection on this result would naturally

cause that which led to it to be invested with a certain degree of

superstitious significance. The feeling generated would have a double

object, as it had a double origin—wonder at the phenomenon itself

and a perception of the value of its consequences. The former, which

is the most simple, would lead to a veneration for the organs whose

operation conduced to the phenomena, hence the superstitious practices

connected with the phallus and the yoni among primitive peoples. In

this, moreover, we have the explanation of numerous curious facts

observed among Eastern nations. Such is the respect shown by women

for the generative organ of dervishes and fakirs. Such also is the

Semitic custom referred to in the Hebrew Scriptures as the putting of

the hand under the thigh, which is explained by the Talmudists to be

the touching of that part of the body which is sealed and made holy by

circumcision; a custom which was, up to a recent date, still in use

among the Arabs as the most solemn guarantee of truthfulness.[8]

The second phase of the Phallic superstition is that which arises from

a perception of the value of the consequences of the act of generation.

The distinction between this and the preceding phase is that, while

the one has relation to the organs engaged, the other refers more

particularly to the chief agent. Thus the father of the family is

venerated as the generator, and his authority is founded altogether on

the act and consequences of generation. We thus see the fundamental

importance, as well as the Phallic origin, of the family idea. From

this has sprung the social organisation of all primitive peoples. An

instance in point may be derived from Mr. Hunter’s account of the

Santals of Bengal. He says that the classification of this interesting

people among themselves depends “not upon social rank or occupation,

but upon the family basis.” This is shown by the character of the six

great ceremonies in a Santal’s life, which are, “admission into the

family; admission into the tribe; admission into the race; union of his

own tribe with another by marriage; formal dismission from the living

race by incremation; lastly, a reunion with the departed fathers.”[9]

We may judge from this of the character of certain customs which are

widespread among primitive peoples, and the Phallic origin of which

has long since been lost sight of. The value set on the results of the

generative act would naturally make the arrival at the age of puberty

an event of peculiar significance. Hence we find various ceremonies

performed among primitive, and even among civilised peoples, at this

period of life. Often when the youth arrives at manhood other rites

are performed to mark the significance of the event. Marriage, too,

derives an importance which it would not otherwise possess. Thus, among

many peoples, it is attended with certain ceremonies denoting its

object, or at least marking it as an event of peculiar significance in

the life of the individual or even in the history of the tribe. The

marriage ceremonial is especially fitted for the use of Phallic rites

or symbolism, the former among semi-civilised peoples often being

simply the act of consummation itself, which appears to be looked on

as part of the ceremony. The symbolism we have ourselves retained to

the present day in the wedding-ring, which had undoubtedly a Phallic

origin, if, as appears probable, it originated in the Samothracian

mysteries.[10] Nor does the influence of the Phallic idea end with

life. The veneration entertained for the father of the family, as the

“generator,” led in time to peculiar care being taken of the bodies of

the dead, and finally to the worship of ancestors, which, under one

form or another, distinguished all the civilised nations of antiquity,

as it does even now most of the peoples of the heathen world.

There is one Phallic rite which, from its wide range, is of peculiar

importance. I refer to circumcision. The origin of this custom has not

yet, so far as I am aware, been satisfactorily explained. The idea

that, under certain climatic conditions, circumcision is necessary for

cleanliness and comfort,[11] does not appear to be well founded, as the

custom is not universal, even within the tropics. Nor is the reason

given by Captain Richard Burton, in his “Notes connected with the

Dahoman,” for both circumcision and excision, perfectly satisfactory.

The real origin of these customs has been forgotten by all peoples

practising them, and therefore they have ceased to have their primitive

significance. That circumcision at least had a superstitious origin

may be inferred from the traditional history of the Jews. The old

Hebrew writers, persistent in their idea that they were a peculiar

people, chosen by God for a special purpose, asserted that this rite

was instituted by Jehovah as a sign of the covenant between Him and

Abraham. Although we cannot doubt that this rite was practised by the

Egyptians and Phœnicians[12] long before the birth of Abraham, yet two

points connected with the Hebrew tradition are noticeable. These are,

the religious significance of the act of circumcision—it is the sign

of a covenant between God and man—and its performance by the head of

the family. These two things are indeed intimately connected; since, in

the patriarchal age, the father was always the priest of the family,

the officer of the sacrifices. We have it on the authority of the Veda

that this was the case also among the primitive Aryan people.[13]

Abraham, therefore, as the father and priest of the family, performed

the religious ceremony of circumcision on the males of his household.

Circumcision, in its inception, is a purely Phallic rite,[14] having

for its aim the marking of that which from its associations is

viewed with peculiar veneration, and it connects the two phases of

this superstition, which have for their objects respectively the

_instrument_ of generation and the _agent_. We are thus brought back to

the consideration of the simplest form of Phallic worship, that which

has for its object the generative organs, viewed as the mysterious

instruments in the realisation of that keen desire for children

which distinguishes all primitive peoples. This feeling is so nearly

universal that it is a matter of surprise to find the act by which it

is expressed stigmatised as sinful. Yet such is the case, although the

incidents in which the fact is embodied are so veiled in figure that

their true meaning has long been forgotten. Clemens Alexandrinus tells

us that “the bacchanals hold their orgies in honour of the frenzied

Bacchus, celebrating their sacred frenzy by the eating of raw flesh,

and go through the distribution of the parts of butchered victims,

crowned with snakes, shrieking out the name of that Eva by whom

error came into the world.” He adds that “the symbol of the Bacchic

orgies is a consecrated serpent,” and that, “according to the strict

interpretation of the Hebrew term, the name Hevia, aspirated, signifies

a _female serpent_.”[15] We have here a reference to the supposed

fall of man from pristine “innocence,” Eve and the serpent being very

significantly introduced in close conjunction, and indeed becoming

in some sense identified with each other. In fact, the Arabic word

for serpent, _hayyat_, may be said also to mean “life,” and in this

sense the legendary, first human mother is called Eve or _Chevvah_, in

Arabic _hawwa_. In its relations, as an asserted fact, the question

of the fall has an important bearing on the subject before us. Quite

irrespective of the impossibility of accepting the Mosaic Cosmogony

as a divinely-inspired account of the origin of the world and man—a

cosmogony which, with those of all other Semitic peoples, has a purely

“Phallic” basis[16]—the whole transaction said to have taken place

in the Garden of Eden is fraught with difficulties on the received

interpretation. The very idea on which it is founded—the placing by

God in the way of Eve of a temptation which he knew she could not

resist—is sufficient to throw discredit on the ordinary reading of

the narrative. The effect, indeed, that was to follow the eating of

the forbidden fruit appears to an ordinary mind to furnish the most

praiseworthy motive for not obeying the commandment to abstain. That

the “eating of the forbidden fruit” was simply a figurative mode of

expressing the performance of the act necessary to the perpetuation of

the human race—an act which in its origin was thought to be the source

of all evil—is evident from the consequences which followed and from

the curse entailed.[17] As to the curse inflicted on Eve, it has always

been a stumbling block in the way of commentators. For what connection

is there between the eating of a fruit and sorrow in bringing forth

children? The meaning is evident, however, when we know that conception

and child-bearing were the direct consequences of the act forbidden.

How far this meaning was intended by the compiler of the Mosaic books

we shall see further on.

The central feature of the Mosaic legend of the “fall” is the reference

to the tree of knowledge or wisdom. It is now generally supposed that

the forbidden fruit was a kind of _citrus_,[18] but certain facts

connected with _aborolatry_ clearly show this opinion to be erroneous.

Among peoples in the most opposite regions of the world various

species of the fig-tree are considered sacred. In almost every part of

Africa the _banyan_ is viewed with a special veneration. Livingstone

noticed this among the tribes on the Zambesi and the Shire,[19] and

he says that the banyan is looked upon with veneration all the way

from the Barotse to Loanda, and thought to be a preservative from

evil.[20] Du Chaillu states that in almost every Ishogo and Ashango

village he visited in Western Equatorial Africa there was a large

_ficus_ “standing about the middle of the main street, and near the

mbuiti or idol-house of the village.” The tree is sacred, and if

it dies the village is at once abandoned.[21] Captain Tuckey found

the same thing on the Congo, where he says the _ficus religiosa_ is

considered sacred.[22] Again, according to Caillié, at Mouriosso, in

Western Central Africa, the market was held under a tree, which, from

his description, must have been the banyan, and he noticed the same

thing in other towns.[23] It is evident from Dr. Barth’s “Travels in

Central Africa,” that superstitious regard for certain trees is found

throughout the whole of the region he traversed, and among some tribes

the fig-tree occupies this position. Thus, he says, “the sacred grove

of the village of Isge was formed by magnificent trees, mostly of

the _ficus_ tribe.”[24] Nor is this superstition unknown among other

dark races of the Southern Hemisphere. A species of the fig-tree is

planted by the New Zealanders close to the temples of their gods. The

superstition is traceable, according to Mr. Earle, even among the

aborigines of Northern Australia, certain peculiar notions connected

with the banyan tree being common to the inhabitants of the Coburg

Peninsula and of the Indian Islands.[25] Mr. Marsden met with this

superstition among the Sumatrans, and we learn from Mr. Wallace that

in one of the towns of Eastern Java the market is held under the

branches of a tree allied to the sacred fig-tree.[26] If we turn to

India, we find that while the banyan is venerated by the Brahmans,

it is the bo-tree which is held sacred by many of the followers of

Gautama Buddha. This may be because, under the name of the _Pilpel_,

it was the peculiar tree of the first recorded Buddha, of whom Gautama

was supposed by his disciples to be an incarnation. Both of these

trees belong to the genus _ficus_, and it is curious that, although

probably in consequence of Semitic influence, the _ficus sycamorus_

was the sacred tree in ancient Egypt, of which it was the symbol, its

place appears ultimately to have been taken by the banyan (_ficus

indica_),[27] so highly venerated in other parts of Africa. Now,

what is the explanation of the peculiar character ascribed to these

trees by peoples who must, on any hypothesis, have been separated for

thousands of years? The bo-tree of the Buddhists itself derived a more

sacred character from its encircling the palm—the Palmyra Palm being

the _kalpa-tree_, or “tree of life,” of the Hindu paradise.[28] The

Buddhists term this connection “the bo-tree united in marriage with the

palm.” The Phallic significance of the palm is well known, and in its

connection with the bo-tree we have the perfect idea of generative

activity, the combining of the male and female organs, a combination

intended by the Hebrew legend when it speaks of the tree of life, and

also of “the knowledge of good and evil.”[29] “The palm-tree,” says

Dr. Inman, “is figured on ancient coins alone, or associated with some

feminine emblem. It typified the male creator, who was represented as

an upright stone, a pillar, a round tower, a tree stump, an oak-tree,

a pine-tree, a maypole, a spire, an obelisk, a minaret, and the

like.”[30] As we have just seen, the Palmyra Palm is the _kalpa-tree_,

or the “tree of life” of the Hindu paradise, and this was not the only

kind of tree with which the idea of life was thus associated.

In the mythologies of more northern peoples the place of the palm is

supplied by the more stately, if less upright, oak. The patriarch Jacob

hid the idols of his household under the oak near Shechem,[31] and his

descendants afterwards made burnt offerings under every thick oak.[32]

Among the Greeks and Romans this tree was sacred to Zeus, or Jupiter,

the Father of Gods and men. With the Russians, the Prussians, and the

Germans, the oak was equally sacred. The sacred oak was the form under

which the Druids worshipped the Supreme Being _Hæsus_, or Mighty.

According to Davies,[33] it was symbolised by the letter D, which

forms the consonantal sound of the word denoting God in many languages,

as it does of the name of the mythical father _Ad_, of the Adamic stock

of mankind. In Teutonic mythology the great oak forms the roof-tree of

the Volsung’s hall, spreading its branches far and wide in the upper

air, being the counterpart, says Mr. Cox, of the mighty Yggdrasil.[34]

This is the gigantic ash-tree, whose branches embrace the whole world,

and which is thought to be only another form of the colossal Irminsul.

Mr. Cox observes on this: “The tree and pillar are thus alike seen in

the columns, whether of Herakles or of Roland; while the cosmogonic

character of the myth is manifest in the legend of the primeval Askr,

the offspring of the ash-tree, of which Virgil, from the characteristic

which probably led to its selection, speaks as stretching its roots as

far down into earth as its branches soar towards heaven.”[35] The name

of the Teutonic Askr is also that of the Iranian _Meschia_,[36] and the

ash, therefore, must be identified with the tree from which springs

the primeval man of the Zarathustrian cosmogony.[37] So Sigmund of the

Volsung Tale is drawn from the trunk of a poplar tree,[38] which thus

occupies the same position as the ash and the oak as a “tree of life.”

The poplar was, indeed, a sacred tree among many nations of antiquity.

This may, doubtless, be explained by reference to its “habit,” which

much resembles that of the sacred Indian fig-tree, with which the

trembling movement, as well as the shape, of its leaves have caused it

to be thus compared.

That the ideas symbolised by the various sacred trees of antiquity

originated, however, with the fig-tree is extremely probable. No

other tree has been so widely venerated as this. The sycamore (_ficus

sycamorus_) was sacred to Netpe, the mother of Osiris, whose statue

was generally made of its wood. In relation to that subject, Sir

Gardner Wilkinson says:[39] “The Athenians had a holy fig-tree, which

grew on the ‘sacred road,’ where, during the celebration of the

Eleusinian mysteries, the procession which went from Athens to Eleusis

halted. This was on the sixth day of the ceremony, called Jacchus, in

honour of the son of Jupiter and Ceres, who accompanied his mother

in search of Proserpine; but the fig-tree of Athens does not appear

to have been borrowed from the sycamore of Egypt, unless it were in

consequence of its connection with the mother of Osiris and Isis, whom

they supposed to correspond to Ceres and Bacchus.”[40] According to

Plutarch, a basket of figs formed one of the chief things carried in

the processions in honour of Bacchus, and the sacred phallus, like the

statue of Priapus, appears to have been generally made of the wood of

the fig-tree.[41] These facts well show the nature of the ideas which

had come to be connected with that tree. To what has been already

said may, however, be added the testimony of a French writer, who,

after speaking of the _lotus_ as one of the many symbols anciently

used to represent the productive forces of nature, continues: “Il faut

y joindre, pour le règne végétal, le figuier indien, ou l’arbre des

Banians, le figuier sacré ou religieux (ficus indica, bengalensis,

ficus religiosa, &c.), _vata_, _aswatha_, _pipala_, et bien d’autres,

idéalisés de bonne heure, dans le mythologie des Hindous, sous la

figure de l’arbre de vie, arbre immense, colonne de feu, énorme et

orgueilleux phallus, l’abord unique, mais depuis devisé et dispersé,

et qui n’est peut-être pas sans rapport, soit avec l’arbre de la

connaissance du bien et du mal, soit avec d’autres symboles non moins

fameux.”[42]

That the _ficus_ was the symbolical tree “in the midst of the garden”

of the Hebrew legend of the fall is extremely probable. That notion

would seem, indeed, to be required by reference to the fig leaves[43]

as the covering used by Adam and Eve when, after eating the forbidden

fruit, they found themselves to be naked. The fig-tree, moreover, meets

the difficulty in distinguishing between the tree of life and the

tree of knowledge. These, according to the opinion above expressed,

as to the meaning of the “fall,” would represent the male and female

principles, as do the bo-tree and palm, “united in marriage,” of the

Buddhists, the palm deriving more sacredness from being encircled

by the ficus. Probably, however, the double symbol was of later

introduction. The banyan of itself would be sufficient to represent

the dual idea, when to the primitive one of “knowledge” was added that

of “life.” The stately trunk would answer to the “tree of life,” while

its fruit was the symbol of that which was more especially affected by

the act of disobedience. This was the eating of the fruit, which, as

conveying the forbidden wisdom, is evidently the essential feature of

the legend, and the _fig_ had anciently just that symbolical meaning

which would be required for the purpose.[44] Throughout the East, from

the earliest historical period, the fruit of the fig-tree was the

emblem of virginity. Dr. Inman says: “The fruit of the tree resembles

in shape the virgin uterus; with its stem attached, it symbolises the

_sistrum_ of Isis. Its form led to the idea that it would promote

fertility. To this day, in Oriental countries, the hidden meaning of

the fig is almost as well known as its commercial value.”[45]

That we have in the Mosaic account of the “fall” a Phallic legend,

is evident also from the introduction of the serpent on the scene,

and the position it takes as the inciting cause of the sinful act.

We are here reminded of the passage already quoted from Clemens

Alexandrinus, who tells us that the serpent was the special symbol of

the worship of Bacchus. Now this animal holds a very curious place in

the religions of the civilised peoples of antiquity. Although, in

consequence of the influence of later thought, it came to be treated

as the personification of evil, and as such appears in the Hebrew

legend of the fall, yet originally the serpent was the special symbol

of wisdom and healing. In the latter capacity it appears even in

connection with the Exodus from Egypt. It is, however, in its character

as a symbol of wisdom that it more especially claims our attention,

although these ideas are intimately connected—the power of healing

being merely a phase of wisdom. From the earliest times of which we

have any historical notice the serpent has been connected with the

gods of wisdom. This animal was the especial symbol of _Thoth_ or

_Taaut_, a primeval deity of Syro-Egyptian mythology,[46] and of all

those gods, such as _Hermes_ and _Seth_, who can be connected with

him. This is true also of the 3rd member of the Chaldean triad, _Héa_

or _Hoa_. According to Sir Henry Rawlinson, the most important titles

of this deity refer “to his functions as the source of all knowledge

and science.” Not only is he “the intelligent fish,” but his name

may be read as signifying both “life” and a “serpent,” and he may

be considered as “figured by the great serpent which occupies so

conspicuous a place among the symbols of the gods on the black stones

recording Babylonian benefactions.”[47] The serpent was also the symbol

of the Egyptian _Kneph_, who resembled the _Sophia_ of the Gnostics,

the divine wisdom. This animal, moreover, was the _Agatho-dæmon_ of

the religions of antiquity—the giver of happiness and good fortune.[48]

It was in these capacities, rather than as having a Phallic

significance, that the serpent was associated with the sun-gods, the

Chaldean _Bel_, the Grecian _Apollo_, and the Semitic _Seth_.

But whence originated the idea of the wisdom of the serpent which led

to its connection with the legend of the “fall?” This may, perhaps, be

explained by other facts, which show also the nature of the wisdom here

intended. Thus, in the annals of the Mexicans, the first woman, whose

name was translated by the old Spanish writers, “_the woman of our

flesh_,” is always represented as accompanied by a great male serpent.

This serpent is the sun-god _Tonacatle-coatl_, the principal deity of

the Mexican Pantheon, while the goddess-mother of primitive man is

called _Cihua-Cohuatl_, which signifies “_woman of the serpent_.”[49]

According to this legend, which agrees with that of other American

tribes, a serpent must have been the father of the human race. This

notion can be explained only on the supposition that the serpent was

thought to have had at one time a human form. In the Hebrew legend

the tempter speaks, and “the old serpent having two feet,” of Persian

mythology, is none other than the evil spirit Ahriman himself.[50] The

fact is that the serpent was only a symbol, or at most an embodiment of

the spirit which it represented, as we see from the belief of several

African and American tribes, which probably preserves the primitive

form of this superstition. Serpents are looked upon by these peoples

as embodiments of their departed ancestors,[51] and an analogous

notion is entertained by various Hindoo tribes. No doubt the noiseless

movement and the activity of the serpent, combined with its peculiar

gaze and marvellous power of fascination, led to its being viewed as a

spirit embodiment, and hence also as the possessor of wisdom.[52] In

the spirit character ascribed to the serpent, we have the explanation

of the association of its worship with human sacrifice noted by Mr.

Fergusson—this sacrifice being really connected with the worship of

ancestors.

It is evident, moreover, that we find here the origin of the idea of

evil sometimes associated with the Serpent-God. The Kafir and the

Hindu, although he treats with respect any serpent which may visit his

dwelling, yet entertains a suspicion of his visitant. It may perhaps

be the embodiment of an _evil_ spirit, or for some reason or other

it may desire to injure _him_. Mr. Fergusson states that “the chief

characteristic of the serpents throughout the East in all ages seems

to have been their power over the wind and rain,” which they gave or

withheld according to their good or ill-will towards man.[53] This

notion is curiously confirmed by the title given by the Egyptians to

the Semitic God _Seti_ or _Seth_—_Typhon_, which was the name of the

Phœnician Evil principle, and also of a destructive wind, thus having

a curious analogy with the “Typhoon” of the Chinese Seas.[54] When

the notion of a duality in nature was developed, there would be no

difficulty in applying it to the symbols or embodiments by which the

idea of wisdom was represented in the animal world. Thus, there came to

be not only good, but also bad serpents, both of which are referred to

in the narrative of the Hebrew Exodus, but still more clearly in the

struggle between the good and the bad serpents of Persian mythology,

which symbolised Ormuzd or Mithra and the Evil spirit Ahriman.[55] So

far as I can make out the serpent symbol has not a _direct_ Phallic

reference, nor is its attribute of wisdom the most essential. The idea

most intimately associated with this animal was that of _life_, not

present merely but continued and probably everlasting.[56] Thus the

snake _Bai_ was figured as Guardian of the doorways of those chambers

of Egyptian Tombs which represented the mansions of heaven.[57] A

sacred serpent would seem to have been kept in all the Egyptian

temples, and we are told that “many of the subjects, in the tombs of

the kings at Thebes, in particular, show the importance it was thought

to enjoy in a future state.”[58] Crowns, formed of the asp, or sacred

_Thermuthis_, were given to sovereigns and divinities, particularly

to Isis,[59] and these, no doubt, were intended to symbolise eternal

life. Isis was a goddess of life and healing,[60] and the serpent

evidently belonged to her in that character, seeing that it was the

symbol also of other deities with the like attributes. Thus, on papyri

it encircles the figure of Harpocrates,[61] who was identified with

Æsculapius; while not only was a great serpent kept alive in the temple

of Serapis, but on later monuments this god is represented by a great

serpent with or without a human head.[62] Mr. Fergusson, in accordance

with his peculiar theory as to the origin of serpent-worship, thinks

that this superstition characterised the old Turanian (or let us

rather say Akkadian) empire of Chaldea, while tree-worship was more a

characteristic of the later Assyrian Empire.[63] This opinion is no

doubt correct, and it means really that the older race had that form of

faith with which the serpent was always indirectly connected—adoration

of the _male_ principle of generation, the principal phase of which was

probably ancestor-worship; while the latter race adored the _female_

principle, symbolised by the sacred tree, the Assyrian “grove.” The

“_tree_ of life,” however, undoubtedly had reference to the _male_

element, and we may well imagine that originally the _fruit_ alone was

treated as symbolical of the opposite element.

There is still one important point connected with this legend which

requires consideration as throwing light on another very widespread

superstition. Baron Bunsen says that the nature of the _Kerubim_

who were set to keep the way to the tree of life has not yet been

satisfactorily explained. He seems to think they have a volcanic

reference, although the usual supposition is that they were angels

bearing “flaming swords.” The latter opinion, however, could only have

arisen from the association, in other places, of kerubim with seraphim,

who are also popularly supposed to be angelic spirits, but whom Bunsen

thinks have reference to flame. All these explanations, however, appear

to me to be erroneous. According to one opinion, kerub is compounded

of two words, _ke_ a particle of resemblance, and _rab_, signifying

great, powerful. If this derivation be correct we may safely infer that

the _kerub_ was simply a representation of the strong deity himself,

of whom the flaming sword was also an emblem. This notion is confirmed

by the statement of the Jewish Targams that “the glory of God dwelt

between the two cherubim at the gate of Eden, just as it rested upon

the two cherubim in the Tabernacle.”[64] It is curious that in the

analogous Greek myth of the Garden of Hesperides, the golden apples

were guarded by a serpent. We have a closer resemblance to the Hebrew

Kerubim in Persian mythology. Delitzsch says “the kerubs appear here

as guards of Paradise, just as in the Persian legend 99,999—_i.e._,

innumerable attendants of the Holy One keep watch against the attempts

of Ahriman over the tree Hôm, which contains in itself the power of

the resurrection. Much closer, however, lies the comparison of the

winged lion-and-eagle-formed griffin,[65] which watch the gold-caves of

the Arimaspian metallic mountains, and of the sometimes more or less

hawk-formed, sometimes only winged and otherwise man-formed-guardians,

upon the Egyptian and Assyrian monuments. The resemblance of the

symbols is surprisingly great; and the comparison of the King of

Tyre,[66] to a protecting kerub with outspread wings, who, stationed

on the holy mountain, walked up and down in the midst of the stones of

fire, justifies us in assuming such a connection.”[67]

The real nature and origin of the Hebrew kerub is apparent on reference

to the language used by Ezekiel in describing his vision of winged

creatures. Dr. Faber shows clearly that these were the same as the

kerubim in the Holy of Holies of the Hebrew temple, and he argues,

moreover, with great justice, that the latter must have agreed with

those who were said to have been stationed before the tree of life in

Eden. In fact, the King of Tyre is styled by Ezekiel “the anointed

covering kerub of Eden, the garden of God.”[68] Now, a curious

difference is made by Ezekiel in the two descriptions he gives of the

creatures which appeared in his vision. In the one case he describes

them as having each four faces—that of a man, that of a lion, that

of an ox, and that of an eagle.[69] Subsequently, however, they are

described as having each the faces of a _kerub_, of a man, of an eagle,

and of a lion.[70] Judging from this discrepancy, the head of a kerub

being substituted for that of an ox, it has been suggested that the

kerub and the ox are synonymous. Dr. Faber very justly observes on this

difficulty, that Ezekiel “would scarcely have called the head of the ox

by way of eminence the _head of a kerub_, unless the form of the ox so

greatly predominated in the compound form of the kerub as to warrant

the entire kerub being familiarly styled _an ox_.”[71] This conclusion

is the more probable when we consider that in the first vision the

creatures are represented with feet like those of a calf.[72] In

fact, we have in this vision, as in the _kerubim_ of Genesis, animal

representations of deity, such as the Persians and other Eastern

peoples delighted in, the most prominent being that of the ox—or,

rather _bull_, as it would be more properly rendered.

But what was the sacred bull of the religions of antiquity, or rather

what its mythological value? Dr. Faber says expressly on this subject:

“There is perhaps no part of the Gentile world in which the bull and

the cow were not highly reverenced and considered in the light of

holy and mysterious symbols.”[73] He cites the traditional founder of

the Chinese empire, Fohi, as having a son with a bull’s head, this

personage being also venerated by the Japanese under the title of the

“ox-headed prince of heaven.” According to Mr. Doolittle, a paper image

of a domestic buffalo, as large as life, with smaller images in clay of

this animal, are carried in procession at the Great Chinese Festival in

honour of spring, while a live buffalo accompanies the procession for

some distance.[74] It is curious to find that at the other side of the

Europo-Asiatic continent the bull was considered sacred by the Celtic

Druids, it being reverenced by the ancient Britons as the symbol of

their Great God Hu. Thus also the Kimbri “adored their principal God

under the form of a brazen bull;” as the ancient Colchians worshipped

brazen-footed bulls which were said to emit fire from their nostrils,

which has reference to the sacrifices with which they were propitiated.

Dr. Faber says as to the Great Phœnician God, called by the Greek

translator of Sanchoniatho Agruerus, from the circumstance of his being

an agricultural God, that he “was worshipped by the Syrians and their

neighbours the Canaanites, under the titles of _Baal_ and _Moloch_;

and, as his shrine was drawn by oxen, so he himself was represented

by the figure of a man having the head of a bull, and sometimes

probably by the simple figure of a bull alone”. The Persian _Mithra_

is also represented as a bull-god, and it is highly suggestive that

in one of the carved grottos near the Campus Marjorum he is figured

under the symbol of the phallus surmounted by the head of a bull. Even

among the Hebrews themselves the golden calf was, under the authority

of Aaron, used as an object of worship, a form of idolatry which was

re-established by Jeroboam, if it had ever been abandoned. Dr. Faber,

indeed, thinks that the calves worshipped at Samaria were copies of

the kerubim in the Temple at Jerusalem. If we turn to peoples kindred

to the Hebrews, we find that the Phœnician Adonis was sometimes

represented as a horned deity, as were also Dionysos and Bacchus, who

were, in fact, merely the names under which Adonis was worshipped

in Thrace and Greece. Plutarch says that “the women of Elis were

accustomed to invite Bacchus to his temple on the seashore, under the

name of ‘the heifer-footed divinity,’ the illustrious bull, the bull

worthy of the highest veneration.” Hence in the ceremonies, during the

celebration of the mysteries of Bacchus and Dionysos, the bull always

took a prominent place, as it did also during the festivals of the

allied deity of Egypt—the bull Apis being worshipped as an incarnation

of Osiris. In India the bull is still held sacred by the Brahmans,

and in Hindu mythology it is connected with both Siva and Menu.[75]

A superstitious veneration for this animal is in fact entertained

by all pastoral or agricultural peoples who possess it. To seek the

explanation of this curious phenomenon in the traditional remembrance

of the kerubic representations of deity which guarded the tree of life

would be in the highest degree irrational. These representations were

merely copies of symbolical figures, which, like the story of the fall,

were borrowed from an Eastern source. The real explanation is found in

the fact that the bull was an emblem of the productive force in nature.

The Zend word _gaya_, which means “bull,” signifies also the “soul” or

“life,” as the same Arabic word denotes both “life” and a “serpent.” A

parallel case is that of the Zend word _orouéré_, which means a “tree”

as well as “life” or “soul.”[76] According to the cosmogany of the

Zend-Avesta, Ormuzd, after he had created the heavens and the earth,

formed the first being, called by Zoroaster “the primeval bull.” This

bull was poisoned by Ahriman, but its seed was carried by the soul

of the dying animal, represented as an _ized_, to the moon, “where

it is continually purified and fecundated by the warmth and light of

the sun, to become the germ of all creatures.” At the same time the

material prototypes of all living things, except perhaps man himself,

issued from the body of the bull.[77] This is but a developed form

of the ideas which anciently were almost universally associated with

this animal, among those peoples who were addicted to sun-worship.

There is no doubt, however, that the superstitious veneration for the

bull existed, as it still exists, quite independent of the worship of

the heavenly bodies.[78] The bull, like the goat, must have been a

sacred animal in Egypt before it was declared to be an embodiment of

the sun-god Osiris. In some sense, indeed, the bull and the serpent,

although both of them became associated with the solar deities, were

antagonistic. The serpent was symbolical of the _personal_ male

element, or rather had especial reference to the man,[79] while the

bull had relation to _nature_ as a whole, and was symbolical of the

_general_ idea of fecundity. This antagonism was brought to an issue in

the struggle between Osiris and Seti (Seth), which ended in the triumph

of the god of nature, although it was renewed even during the Exodus,

when the golden calf of Osiris or Horus was set up in the Hebrew camp.

The reference made to the serpent, to the tree of wisdom, and to the

bull, in the legend of the “fall,” sufficiently proves its Phallic

character, which was, indeed, recognised in the early Christian

church.[80] Judging from the facts above referred to, however, we can

hardly doubt that the legend was derived from a foreign source. That it

could not be original to the Hebrews may, I think, be proved by several

considerations. The position occupied in the legend by the serpent is

quite inconsistent with the use of this animal symbol by Moses.[81]

Like Satan himself even, as the Rev. Dunbar Heath has shown,[82]

the serpent had not, indeed, a wholly evil character among the early

Hebrews. In the second place, the condemnation of the act of generation

was directly contrary to the central idea of patriarchal history. The

promise to Abraham was that he should have seed “numerous as the stars

of heaven for multitude,” and to support this notion the descent of

Abraham is traced up to the first created man, who is commanded to

increase and multiply.

The legend of the fall is not unknown to Hindu mythology, but here the

subject of the temptation is the divine Brahma, who, however, is not

only mankind collectively, but a man individually.[83] In human shape

he is Sivayambhuva, and to try this progenitor of mankind, Siva, as

the Supreme Being, “drops from heaven a blossom of the sacred _vata_,

or Indian fig—a tree which has been always venerated by the natives

on account of its gigantic size and grateful shadows, and invested

alike by Brahman and by Buddhist with mysterious significations, as

the tree of knowledge or intelligence (_bodhidruma_).[84] Captivated

by the beauty of the blossom, the first man (Brahma) is determined

to possess it. He imagines that it will entitle him to occupy the

place of the Immortal, and hold converse with the Infinite; and on

gathering up the blossom,[85] he at once becomes intoxicated by this

fancy, and believes himself immortal and divine. But ere the flush

of exultation has subsided, God Himself appears to him in terrible

majesty; and the astonished culprit, stricken by the curse of heaven,

is banished far from Brahmapattana, and consigned to an abyss of misery

and degradation. From this, however, adds the story, an escape is

rendered possible on the expiration of some weary term of suffering and

of penance. And the parallelism which it presents to sacred history

is well-nigh completed when the legend tells us further that woman,

his own wife, whose being was derived from his, had instigated the

ambitious hopes which led to their expulsion, and entailed so many ills

on their posterity.”[86] That parallelism cannot well be the result

of mere coincidence, and the reference to the fig-tree in the Hindu

legend not only renders it highly probable that this was the tree of

knowledge[87] of Hebrew legend, but confirms, by the symbolical ideas

connected with it, the explanation of the nature of the “fall” given in

the preceding pages. The real meaning of the legend was well understood

by the Gnostics and Manicheans, and those Christian Fathers who were

brought into contact with Eastern ideas through them.[88]

The Persians, who were indebted to the Chaldeans for many of their

religious ideas, possessed the story of the fall in a form agreeing

more closely with that which may have been the original of the Hebrew

legend. According to the _Boundehesch_, one of the sacred books of the

Parsees, a tree gave birth to the primeval man _Meschia_. The body

of this androgynous being afterwards became divided, one part being

male and the other female—_Meschia_ and _Meschiana_,[89] as the man

and woman were called—were at first pure and holy, but seduced by

Ahriman, who had metamorphosed himself into a serpent, they rendered

to the Prince of Darkness the worship which was due only to Ormuzd,

the God of Light. Meschia and Meschiana thus lost their primitive

purity, which neither they nor their descendants could recover without

the assistance of Mithra, the god who presided at the mysteries or at

the initiations—that is to say, at the way of rehabilitation which

is opened before those who seek earnestly the salvation of their

souls.[90] At the instigation of Ahriman, the man and woman had, for

the first time, committed, in thought, word, and deed, the carnal sin,

and thus tainted with original sin all their descendants.[91] Lajard,

referring to this legend, adds in a note: “Le triple caractère que

presente ici le péché originel est très nettement indiqué dans le

passage cité du Boundehesch. Il y est accompagné de détails que font de

ce passage un des morceaux les plus curieux de ce traité. Quelques-uns

de ces détails ... rattache à ce même mot (serpent) ou à sa racine la

dénomination des parties sexuelles de la homme et de la femme.” The

Persian account of the fall and its consequences agrees so closely

with the Hebrew story when stripped of its figurative language that we

cannot doubt that they refer to the same legend,[92] and the use of

figurative language in the latter may well lead us to believe that it

was of later date than the former.[93] In Ahriman, who was known to

Persian teaching as “the old serpent having two feet,” we evidently

have the origin of the speaking serpent of Genesis, while in “the

seed of the woman who shall bruise the serpent’s head,” the follower

of Zarathustra would have seen a reference to Mithra, just as the

Christian finds there a prophecy of Christ. Even the antagonism between

the Cherubim and the Serpent can be found in Persian teaching, for it

was to the malignant action of the Serpent Az that the death, not only

of the first man, but of the “primeval bull,” was due.[94] The latter

was formed by Ormuzd after the creation of the heavens and the earth,

and that from which proceeded the material prototypes of all the beings

“who live in the water, on the earth, and in the air.”[95]

It is very probable, however, that when the legend was appropriated

by the compiler of the Hebrew Scriptures it had a moral significance

as well as a merely figurative sense. The legend is divisible into

two parts—the first of which is a mere statement of the imparting of

wisdom by the serpent and by the eating of the fruit of a certain tree,

these ideas being synonymous, or at least consistent, as appears by the

attributes of the Chaldean _Héa_.[96] The nature of this wisdom may be

found in the rites of the Hindu _Sacti Puja_.[97] The second part of

the legend, which is probably of much later date, is the condemnation

of the act referred to, as being in itself evil and as leading to

misery, and even to death itself. The origin of this later notion must

be sought in the esoteric doctrine taught in the mysteries of Mithra,

the fundamental idea of which was the descent of the soul to earth

and its re-ascent to the celestial abodes after it had overcome the

temptations and debasing influences of the material life.[98] Lajard

shows that these mysteries were really taken from the secret worship of

the Chaldean _Mylitta_, but the reference to “the seed of the woman who

shall bruise the serpent’s head,” is too Mithraic for us to seek for an

earlier origin for the special form of the Hebrew myth. The object of

the myth evidently was to explain the origin of _death_,[99] from which

man was to be delivered by a coming Saviour, and the whole idea is

strictly Mithraic, the Persian deity himself being a Saviour God.[100]

The importance attached to _virginity_ by the early Christians sprang

from the same source. The Avesta is full of reference to “purity” of

life, and there is reason to believe that in the secret initiations

the followers of Mithra were taught to regard marriage itself as

impure.[101]

The religious ideas which found expression in the legend of the fall

were undoubtedly of late development,[102] although derived from still

earlier phases of religious thought. The simple worship in symbol of

the organs of generation, and of the ancestral head of the family,

prompted by the desire for offspring and the veneration for him who

produced it, was extended to the generative force in nature. The bull

which, as we have seen, symbolised this force, was not restricted

to earth, but was in course of time transferred to the heavens, and

as one of the constellations was thought to have a peculiar relation

to certain of the planetary bodies. This astral phase of the Phallic

superstition was not unknown to the Mosaic religion. A still earlier

form of this superstition was, however, known to the Hebrews, probably

forming a link between the worship of the symbol of personal generative

power and that of the heavenly phallus; as the worship of the bull

connected the veneration for the human generator with that for the

universal father. One of the primeval gods of antiquity was _Hermes_,

the Syro-Egyptian _Thoth_, and the Roman _Mercury_. Kircher identifies

him also with the god _Terminus_. This is doubtless true, as Hermes

was a god of boundaries, and appears, as Dulaure has well shown, to

have presided over the national frontiers. The meaning of the word

“Thoth”—_erecting_—associates it with this fact. The peculiar primitive

form of Mercury or Hermes was “a large stone, frequently square, and

without either hands or feet. Sometimes the triangular shape was

preferred, sometimes an upright pillar, and sometimes a heap of rude

stones!”[103] The pillars were called by the Greeks _Hermæ_, and the

heaps were known as _Hermèan_ heaps—the latter being accumulated “by

the custom of each passenger throwing a stone to the daily-increasing

mass in honour of the god.” Sometimes the pillar was represented with

the attributes of Priapus.[104]

The identification of Hermes or Mercury with Priapus is confirmed by

the offices which the latter deity fulfilled. One of the most important

was that of protector of gardens and orchards, and probably this was

the original office performed by Hermes in his character of “a God of

the country.”[105] Figures set up as charms to protect the produce of

the ground would, in course of time, be used not only for this purpose,

but also to mark the boundaries of the land protected, and these two

offices being divided, two deities would finally be formed out of one.

The Greek Hermes was connected also with the Egyptian _Khem_, and no

less, if we may judge from the symbols used in his worship, with the

Hebrew _Eloah_. Thus, in the history of the Hebrew patriarchs, we are

told that when Jacob entered into a covenant with his father-in-law,

Laban, a pillar was set up and a heap of stones made, and Laban said

to Jacob, “Behold this heap and behold this pillar, which I have cast

betwixt me and thee; this heap be witness, and this pillar be witness,

that I will not pass over this heap to thee, and that thou shall not

pass over this heap and this pillar unto me for harm.”[106] We have

here the _Hermæ_ and _Hermèan_ heap, used by the Greeks as landmarks

and placed by them on the public roads. In the _linga_ of India we have

another instance of the use of the pillar symbol. The form of this

symbol is sufficiently expressive of the idea which it embodies, an

idea which is more explicitly shown when the Linga and the Yoni are, as

is usually the case among the worshippers of the Hindu Siva, combined

to form the _Lingam_. The stone figure is not, however, itself a god,

but only representative of a spirit,[107] who is thought to be able to

satisfy the yearning for children, so characteristic of many primitive

peoples, this probably having been its original object and the source

of its use as an amulet for the protection of children against the

influence of the evil eye. In course of time, however, when other

property came to be coveted equally with offspring, the power to give

this property would naturally be referred to the primitive Phallic

spirit, and hence he became, not merely the protector, as above seen,

of the produce of the fields, and the guardian of boundaries, but also

the God of wealth and traffic, and even the patron of thieves, as was

the case with the Mercury of the Romans. The Hebrew patriarchs desired

great flocks as well as numerous descendants, and hence the symbolic

pillar was peculiarly fitted for their religious rites. It is related

even of Abraham, the traditional founder of the Hebrew people, that

he “planted a grove[108] (_eshel_) in Beersheba, and called there on

the name of Jehovah, the everlasting _Elohim_.”[109] From the Phallic

character of the “grove” (_ashera_),[110] said to have been in the

House of Jehovah, we must suppose that the _eshel_ of Abraham also had

a Phallic reference.[111] Most probably the so-called “grove” of the

earlier patriarch, though perhaps of wood, and the stone “_bethel_”

of Jacob had the same form, and were simply the _betylus_,[112] the

primitive symbol of deity among all the Semitic and many Hamitic

peoples.

The participation of the Hebrew patriarchs in the rites connected

with the “pillar-worship” of the ancient world, renders it extremely

probable that they were not strangers to the later planetary worship.

Many of the old Phallic symbols were associated with the new

superstition, and Abraham, being a Chaldean, it is natural to suppose

that he was one of its adherents. Tradition, indeed, affirms that

Abraham was a great astronomer, and at one time at least a worshipper

of the heavenly bodies, and that he and the other patriarchs continued

to be affected by this superstition is shown by various incidents

related in the Pentateuch. Thus, in the description given of the

sacrificial covenant between Abraham and Jehovah, it is said that,

after Abraham had divided the sacrificial animals, a deep sleep fell

upon him as the sun was going down, and Jehovah spoke with him. “Then

when the sun went down, and it was dark, behold a smoking furnace, and

a burning lamp, that passed between those pieces.” The happening of

this event at the moment of the sun’s setting reminds us of the Sabæan

custom of praying to the setting sun, still practised, according

to Palgrave, among the nomads of central Arabia. That some great

_religious_ movement, ascribed by tradition to Abraham, did take place

among the Semites at an early date is undoubted. What the object of

this covenant was it is difficult to decide. It should be remembered

that the Chaldeans worshipped a plurality of gods, supposed to have

been symbolised by the seven planets. Among these deities the sun-god

held a comparatively inferior position—the moon-god _Hurki_ coming

before him in the second triad.[113] It was at Ur, the special seat of

the worship of the moon-god,[114] that Abraham is said to have lived

before he quitted it for Haran. This fact, considered in the light of

the traditions relating to the great patriarch, may perhaps justify

us in inferring that the reformation he endeavoured to introduce was

the substitution of a simple sun-worship, for the planetary cultus

of the Chaldeans, in which the worship of the moon must to him have

appeared to occupy an important place. The new faith was, indeed,

a return to the old Phallic idea of a god of personal generation,

worshipped through the symbolical _betylus_, but associated also with

the adoration of the sun as the especial representative of the deity.

That Abraham had higher notions of the relation of man to the divine

being than his forerunners is very probable, but his sojourn in

Haran proves that there was nothing fundamentally different between

his religious faith and that of his Syrian neighbours. I am inclined,

indeed, to believe that to the traditional Abraham must be ascribed

the establishment of sun-worship throughout Phœnicia and Lower Egypt

in connection with the symbols of an earlier and more simple Phallic

deity. Tradition, in fact, declares that he taught the Egyptians

astronomy,[115] and we shall see that the religion of the Phœnicians,

as, indeed, that of the Hebrews themselves, was the worship of Saturn,

the erect, pillar-god who, under different names, appears to have been

at the head of the pantheons of most of the peoples of antiquity. The

reference in Hebrew history to the _seraphim_ of Jacob’s family recalls

the fact that Abraham’s father was _Terah_, a “maker of images.” The

_teraphim_ were doubtless the same as the _seraphim_, which were

serpent images,[116] and probably the household charms or idols of the

Semitic worshippers of the sun-god, to whom the serpent was sacred.

Little is known of the religious habits of the Hebrews during their

abode in Egypt. Probably they differed little from those of the

Egyptians themselves, and even in the religion of Moses, so-called,

which we may presume to have been a reformed faith, there are many

points of contact with the earlier cultus. The use of the ark of Osiris

and Isis shows the influence of Egyptian ideas, and the introduction

of the new name for God, _Jahve_, is evidence of contact with later

Phœnician thought. The ark was doubtless used to symbolise nature, as

distinguished from the serpent and pillar symbols, which had relation

more particularly to man. The latter, however, were by far the most

important, as they were most intimately connected with the worship of

the national deity, who was the divine father, as Abraham was the human

progenitor, of the Hebrew people. That this deity, notwithstanding his

change of name, retained his character of a sun-god, is shown by the

fact that he is repeatedly said to have appeared to Moses under the

figure of a flame. The pillar of fire which guided the Hebrews by night

in the wilderness, the appearance of the cloudy pillar at the door of

the Tabernacle, and probably of a flame over the mercy seat to betoken

the presence of Jehovah, and the perpetual fire on the altar, all point

to the same conclusion. The notion entertained by Ewald that the idea

connected with the Hebrew Jahve was that of a “Deliverer” or a “Healer”

(Saviour)[117] is quite consistent with the fact I have stated. The

primeval Phenic deity El or Cronus was not only the preserver of the

world, for the benefit of which he offered a mystical sacrifice,[118]

but “Saviour” was a common title of the sun-gods of antiquity.

There is one remarkable incident which is said to have happened during

the wanderings of the Hebrews in the Sinaitic wilderness which appears

to throw much light on the character of the Mosaic cultus and to

connect it with other religions. I refer to the use of the brazen

serpent as a symbol for the healing of the people. The worship of the

golden calf may, perhaps, be said to be an idolatrous act in imitation

of the rites of Egyptian Osiris worship, although probably suggested

by the use of the ark. The other case, however, is far different, and

it is worth while repeating the exact words in which the use of the

serpent symbol is described. When the people were bitten by the “fiery”

serpents,[119] Moses prayed for them, and we read that, therefore,

“Jehovah said unto Moses, make thee a fiery serpent (literally, a

_seraph_), and set it upon a pole; and it shall come to pass, that

every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live. And

Moses made a serpent of brass, and put it upon a pole, and it came to

pass, that if a serpent had bitten any man, when he beheld the serpent

of brass, he lived.”[120] It would seem from this account that the

Hebrew seraph was, as before suggested, in the form of a serpent;

but what was the especial significance of this healing figure? At an

earlier stage of our inquiry reference was made to the fact of the

serpent being indirectly, through its attribute of wisdom, a Phallic

symbol, but also directly an emblem of “life,” and to the peculiar

position it held in nearly all the religions of antiquity. In later

Egyptian mythology the contest between Osiris and the Evil Being, and

afterwards that between Horus and Typhon, occupy an important place.

Typhon, the adversary of Horus, was figured under the symbol of a

serpent, called Aphôphis or the Giant,[121] and it cannot be doubted

that, if not a form of, he was identified with the god Seth. Professor

Reuvens refers to an invocation of Typhon-Seth,[122] and Bunsen quotes

the statement of Epiphanius that “the Egyptians celebrate the festivals

of Typhon under the form of an ass, which they call Seth.”[123]

Whatever may be the explanation of the fact, it is undoubted that,

notwithstanding the hatred with which he was afterwards regarded, this

god Seth or Set was at one time highly venerated in Egypt. Bunsen

says that up to the thirteenth century B.C. Set “was a great god

universally adored throughout Egypt, who confers on the sovereigns

of the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties the symbols of life and

power. The most glorious monarch of the latter dynasty, Sethos, derives

his name from this deity.” He adds: “But subsequently, in the course

of the twentieth dynasty, he is suddenly treated as an evil demon,

inasmuch as his effigies and name are obliterated on all the monuments

and inscriptions that could be reached.” Moreover, according to this

distinguished writer, Seth “appears gradually among the Semites as the

background of their religious consciousness;” and not merely was he

“the primitive god of Northern Egypt and Palestine,” but his genealogy

as “the Seth of Genesis, the father of Enoch (the man), must be

considered as originally running parallel with that derived from the

Elohim, Adam’s father.”[124] That Seth _had_ some special connection

with the Hebrews is proved, among other things, by the peculiar

position occupied in their religious system by the _ass_—the first-born

of which alone of all animals was allowed to be redeemed[125]—and

the _red heifer_, whose ashes were to be reserved as a “water of

separation” for purification from sin.[126] Both of these animals were

in Egypt sacred to Seth (Typhon), the ass being his symbol, and red

oxen being at one time sacrificed to him, although at a later date

objects of a red colour were disliked, owing to their association

with the dreaded Typhon.[127] That we have a reference to this deity

in the name of the Hebrew lawgiver is very probable. No satisfactory

derivation of this name, Moses, Môsheh (Heb.), has yet been given. Its

original form was probably _Am-a-ses_ or _Am-sesa_,[128] which might

become to the Hebrews Om-ses or Mo-ses, meaning only _the_ (god) Ses,

_i.e._, Set or Seth.[129] On this hypothesis we may have preserved, in

the first book of Moses (so-called), some of the traditional history

said to have been contained in the sacred books of the Egyptian Thoth,

and of the records engraved on the pillars of Seth. It is somewhat

remarkable that, according to a statement of Diodorus, when Antiochus

Epiphanes entered the temple at Jerusalem, he found in the Holy of

Holies a stone figure of Moses, represented as a man with a long beard,

mounted on an ass, and having a book in his hand.[130] The Egyptian

Mythus of Typhon actually said that Set fled from Egypt riding on a

grey ass.[131] It is strange, to say the least, that Moses should not

have been allowed to enter the promised land, and that he should be

so seldom referred to by later writers until long after the reign of

David,[132] and above all that the name given to his successor was

Joshua—_i.e._, _Saviour_. It is worthy of notice that “Nun,” the name

of the father of Joshua, is the Semitic word for _fish_, the Phallic

character of the fish in Chaldean mythology being undoubted. _Nin_, the

planet Saturn, was the fish-god of Berosus, and, as may possibly be

shown, he is really the same as the Assyrian national deity _Asshur_,

whose name and office have a curious resemblance to those of the Hebrew

leader, _Joshua_.

But what was the character of the primitive Semitic deity? Bunsen

seems to think that Plutarch in one passage alludes to the identity

of Typhon (Seth) and Osiris.[133] This is a remarkable idea, and yet

curiously enough Sir Gardner Wilkinson says that Typhon-Seth may have

been derived from the pigmy Pthath-Sokari-Osiris,[134] who was clearly

only another form of Osiris himself. In the Egyptian Book of the Dead,

Horus, the son of Osiris, is declared to be at the same time Set, “by

the distinction made between them by Thoth.”[135] However that may

be, the Phallic origin of Seth can be shown from other data. Thus it

appears that the word _Set_ means, in Hebrew as in Egyptian, pillar,

and, in a general sense, the erect, elevated, high.[136] Moreover,

in a passage of the Book of the Dead, Set, according to Bunsen, is

called _Tet_, a fact which intimates that Thoth inherited many of the

attributes of Set.[137] They were, however, in some sense the same

deities, it being through Thoth that Set was identified with Horus.

We have here an explanation of the statement that Tet, the Phœnician

_Taaut_, was the snake-god, Esmun-Esculapius, the serpent being the

symbol of Tet, as we have seen it to have been that of Seth also. In

this we have a means of identifying the Semitic deity Seth with the

Saturn of related deities of other peoples. Ewald says that “the common

name for God, _Eloah_, among the Hebrews, as among all the Semites,

goes back into the earliest times.”[138] Bryant goes further, and

declares that El was originally the name of the supreme deity among all

the nations of the East.[139] This idea is confirmed, so far as Chaldea

is concerned, by later researches, which show that Il or El was at the

head of the Babylonian Pantheon. With this deity must be identified the

Il or Ilus of the Phœnicians, who was born the same as Cronus, who,

again, was none other than the primeval Saturn, whose worship appears

to have been at one period almost universal among European and Asiatic

peoples. Saturn and El were thus the same deity, the latter, like the

Semitic Seth, being, as is well known, symbolised by the serpent.[140]

A direct point of contact between Seth and Saturn is found in the

Hebrew idol _Kiyun_ mentioned by Amos, the planet Saturn being still

called _Kevan_ by Eastern peoples. This idol was represented in the

form of a pillar, the primeval symbol of deity, which was common

undoubtedly to all the gods here mentioned.[141] These symbolical

pillars were called _betyli_ or _betulia_. Sometimes also the column

was called _Abaddir_, which, strangely enough, Bryant identifies with

the serpent-god.[142] There can be no doubt that both the pillar and

the serpent were associated with many of the sun-gods of antiquity.

Notwithstanding what has been said it is undoubtedly true, however,

that all these deities, including the Semitic Seth, became at an

early date recognised as sun-gods, although in so doing they lost

nothing of their primitive character. What this was is sufficiently

shown by the significant names and titles they bore. Thus, as we have

seen, _Set_ (Seth) itself meant the _erect_, _elevated_, _high_, his

name on the Egyptian monuments being nearly always accompanied by a

stone.[143] The name, _Kiyun_ or _Kevan_, of this deity, said by

Amos to have been worshipped in the wilderness, signifies “god of the

pillar.” The idea expressed by the title is shown by the name _Baal

Tamar_, which means “Baal as a pillar,” or “Phallus,” consequently

“the fructifying god.” The title “erect,” when given to a deity, seems

always to imply a Phallic idea, and hence we have the explanation of

the _S. mou_ used frequently in the “Book of the Dead” in relation

to Thoth or to Set.[144] There is doubtless a reference of the same

kind in the Phœnician myth, that “Melekh taught men the special art

of creating solid walls and buildings;” although Bunsen finds in this

myth “the symbolical mode of expressing the value of the use of fire

in building houses.”[145] That these myths embody a Phallic notion

may be confirmed by reference to the Phœnician _Kabiri_. According

to Bunsen, “the Kabiri and the divinities identified with them are

explained by the Greeks and Romans as ‘the strong,’ ‘the great;’” while

in the book of Job, _Kabbîr_, the strong, is used as an epithet of God.

Again, _Sydyk_, the father of the Kabiri, is “the Just,” or, in a more

original sense, the Upright; and this deity, with his sons, correspond

to Ptah, the father of the Phœnician Pataikoi. Ptah, however, seems to

be derived from a root which signifies in Hebrew “to open,” and Sydyk

himself, therefore, may, says Bunsen, be described as “the Opener” of

the Cosmic Egg.[146] The Phallic meaning of this title is evident from

its application to Esmun-Esculapius, the son of Sydyk, who, as the

snake-god, was identical with Tet, the Egyptian Thoth-Hermes.

The peculiar titles given to these deities, and their association

with the sun, led to their original Phallic character being somewhat

overlooked, and instead of being the Father-Gods of human-kind, they

became _Powerful_ Gods, _Lords_ of Heaven. This was not the special

attribute taken by other sun-gods. As was before stated, Hermes and

his related deities were “gods of the country,” personifying the idea

of general natural fecundity. Among the chief gods of this description

were the Phœnician _Sabazius_, the Greek _Bacchus-Dionysos_, the Roman

_Priapus_, and the Egyptian _Khem_. All these deities agree also in

being sun-gods, and as such they were symbolised by animals which

were noted either for their fecundity or for their salaciousness. The

chief animals thus chosen were the _bull_ and the _goat_ (with which

the ram[147] was afterwards confounded), doubtless because they were

already sacred. The Sun appears to have been preceded by the Moon as an

object of worship, but the moon-god was probably only representative

of the primeval Saturn,[148] who finally became the sun-god _El_ or

_Il_ of the Syrian and Semites and the _Ra_ of the Babylonians. The

latter was the title also of the sun-god of Egypt, who was symbolised

by the obelisk, and who, although his name was added to that of other

Egyptian gods, is said to have been the tutelary deity of the stranger

kings of the eighteenth dynasty,[149] whom Pleyte, however, declares

to have been Set (Sutech).[150] We are reminded here of the opposition

of Seth and Osiris, which has already been explained as arising from

the fact that these deities originally represented two different ideas,

_human fecundity_ and the _fruitfulness of nature_. When, however, both

of these principles became associated with the solar body, they were

expressed by the same symbols, and the distinction between them was in

great measure lost sight of. A certain difference was, nevertheless,

still observable in the attributes of the deities, depending on the

peculiar properties and associations of their solar representatives.

Thus the powerful deity of Phœnicia was naturally associated with the

strong, scorching, summer sun, whose _heat_ was the most prominent

attribute. In countries such as Egypt, where the sun, acting on the

moist soil left by inundations, caused the earth to spring into renewed

life, the mild but energetic early sun was the chief deity.

Serpent-Worship, and Other Essays, with a Chapter on Totemism · 第 2 / 14 章