Tho’ my business is to speak more fully of the religion of the Druids

in the next volume, yet I judge it very pertinent to the present

subject to anticipate that intention, so as to shew how far they might

advance toward that knowledge, by the dint of reason; to further the

works, wherein they have, in the largest characters that ever were

made, consign’d their notions of this sort, remaining to this day,

such as we have been describing; and which may induce us to have the

same sentiment concerning them as _Pere Marten_ in his _Religion des

Gaulois_, tho’ he knew nothing of our antiquities; but thus he writes,

“that the Druids worship’d the true God, and that their ideas of

religion were truly grand, sublime, magnificent.”

We may therefore very justly affirm of them, that in their serious

contemplations in this place, concerning the nature of the deity,

which, as _Cæsar_ tells us, was one part of their inquiries, they would

thus reason in their own minds.

A contemplative person, viewing and considering the world around him,

is ravish’d with the harmony and beauty, the fitnesses of things in it,

the uses and connexion of all its parts, and the infinite agreement

shining throughout the whole. He must belye all his senses to doubt,

that it was compos’d by a being of infinite power, wisdom and goodness,

which we call God. But among all the most glorious attributes of

divinity, goodness is preeminent. For this beautiful fabric of the

world displays thro’ every atom of it, such an amazing scene of

the goodness and beneficence of its author; that it appears to such

contemplative minds, that his infinite power and wisdom were but as the

two hands, employ’d by the _goodness_ of the sovereign architect.

Goodness was the beginning, the middle, the end of the creation. To

explain, to prove, or illustrate this topic, would be an affront to

the common understanding of mankind. The sum of what we can know of

him is, that he is good, essentially good. We are not more assured of

the existence of the first being, than that he is good, _the_ good,

goodness itself, in eminence. He is God, because he is good; which is

the meaning of the word in _english_, and in many other languages.

This, in God almighty, is the attribute of attributes, the perfection

of his all-perfect nature. He made and maintains those creatures which

he multiply’d to an infinite degree, the objects of his care and

beneficence; those great characters of supreme love, that render him

deservedly adorable.

All possible perfections, both moral and natural, must needs be

inherent in this first and supreme being, because from him alone they

can flow. This is in one comprehensive word, what we call good. But

good unexercis’d, unemploy’d, incommunicate, is no good, and implies

a contradiction, when affirmed of the all-good being. Therefore it

undeniably follows, there never was a time, never can be, when God was

useless, and did not communicate of his goodness.

But there was a time before creation, before this beautiful fabric of

the world was made, before even chaos itself, or the production of

the rude matter, of which the world was made. And this time must be

affirmed, not only as to material creation, but to that of angels and

spiritual beings. Reckon we never so many ages, or myriads of ages,

for the commencement of creation, yet it certainly began, and there

was a time before that beginning. For, by the definition, creation is

bringing that into being which was not before. There must have been a

time before it.

Here then occurs the difficulty, of filling up that infinite gap before

creation. Consider the supreme first being sitting in the center of

an universal solitude, environ’d with the abyss of infinite nothing,

a chasm of immense vacuity! what words can paint the greatness of the

solecism? what mind does not start at the horror of such an absurdity?

and especially supposing this state subsisted from infinite ages.

’Tis in vain to pretend, that a being of all perfections can be happy

in himself, in the consciousness of those perfections, whilst he

does no good to any thing; in the reflexive idea of his possessing

all excellency, whilst he exerts no tittle of any one. This is the

picture of a being quite dissonant to that of the All-good. And as

the Druids would, without difficulty, judge, that there must needs be

one, only, self-originated first being, the origin of all things: so

they would see the necessity of admitting one or more eternal beings,

or emanations from that first being, in a manner quite distinct from

creation.

That there ever was one eternal, self-existent, unoriginated being,

is the very first and most necessary truth, which the human mind

can possibly, by contemplation and ratiocination, obtain. Still by

considering the matter intimately, they would find it impossible to

conceive, that there should ever be a time, when there was but one

being in the universe, which we call the first and self-originated

being, possessing in himself all possible perfections, and remaining

for endless myriads of ages, torpid, unactive, solitary, useless.

This is a notion so abhorrent to reason, so contrary to the nature of

goodness, so absolutely absurd, that we may as well imagine this great

being altogether absent, and that there was no being at all.

This all the philosophers were sensible of, for good unexercis’d, that

always lay dormant, never was put into act, is no goodness; it may as

well be supposed absent, and even that there was no God. To imagine

that God could be asleep all this while, shocks the mind, therefore it

casts about, to remedy this great paradox.

Now it cannot be said of any part of creation, or of the whole, that

God always did good to any created being or beings; for these are not,

cannot be commensurate in time with his own being. Count backward never

so long for the beginning of things, still there was a time prior to

this beginning of things; for eternal creation is an equal absurdity

with an eternal absence of any being: where no part is necessary, to

affirm the whole is a necessarily and self-existing being, is a mere

portent of reason.

So we see, in every light, an absolute necessity of admitting a being

or beings coeval with the supreme and self-originated being, distinct

from any creation, and which must needs flow from the first being, the

cause of all existence. For two self-originated beings is as much an

absurdity as any of the preceding.

But, as ’tis impossible that the act of creation should be coeval with

the first being, what other act of goodness can be? For that being

which is essentially good, must ever have been actively and actually

so. To answer this great question, we must thus expostulate, as the

prophet _Isaiah_ does in the person of God, in his last chapter, when

summing up the business of his prophetical office: “Shall I bring to

the birth, and not beget, saith _Jehovah_: shall I cause to bring

forth, and be myself barren, saith thy God?” He is there speaking of

the birth of the son of God in human form; but we may apply it in a

more eminent degree, to the son of God in his divine nature; and as the

Druids may well be suppos’d to have done. The highest act of goodness

which is possible, even for the supreme being, is the production of his

like, the act of filiation, the begetting of his son, _Prov._ viii. 22.

“The LORD _begat_ me _from eternity_, before his works of old;” (so

it ought to be read) _ver._ 30. “then I was by him, as one _brought

up_ with him (_amoun_ in the original) and I was daily his delight,

rejoicing always before him.”

This is the internal divine fecundity of the fruitful cause of all

things. Creation is external fecundity. The Druids would naturally

apply the term generation, to this act of producing this person, or

divine emanation from the supreme, which we are oblig’d to admit

of: and to affirm him coeval with the supreme. The difficulty of

priority in time, between father and son, would easily be remov’d, by

considering the difference between divine and human generation, the

production of necessary and contingent beings.

If an artist produces an admirable and curious piece of mechanism, he

is said to make it; if he produces a person or being altogether like

himself, he is rightly said to generate that person; he begets a son,

’tis an act of filiation. So the like we must affirm of the supreme

being generating another being, with whom only he could communicate

of his goodness from all eternity, and without any beginning; or, in

scripture language, _in whom he always had complacency_. This is what

_Plato_ means, “by love being ancienter than all the gods; that the

kingdom of love is prior to the kingdom of necessity.” And this son

must be a self-existent, all-perfect being, equally as the father,

self-origination only excepted, which the necessary relation or

oeconomy between them forbids. If he is a son, he is like himself; if

he is like himself, he is God; if he is God, an eternity of existence

is one necessary part of his divine nature and perfection.

If the son be of the same substance and nature as the father, an

eternity of being is one part of his nature; therefore no time can be

assign’d for this divine geniture, and it must be what we call eternal.

Or perhaps we may express it as well by saying, it was before eternity;

or that he is coeval with the almighty father. In this same sense

_Proclus de patriarch._ uses the word προαιώνιος, _præeternus_. For

tho’ ’tis impossible that creation, whether of material or immaterial

beings, should be coeval with God; yet, if the son be of the same

nature with the father, which must be granted, then ’tis impossible to

be otherwise, than that the son of God should be coeval with the father.

If goodness be, as it were, the essence of God, then he can have no

happiness but in the exercise of that goodness. We must not say,

as many are apt to do, that he was always and infinitely happy, in

reflecting upon his own being and infinite perfections, in the idea of

himself. This is no exercise of goodness, unless we allow this idea

of himself which he produces, to be a being without him, or distinct

from himself; and that is granting what we contend for. A true and

exact idea of himself is the _logos_ of the ancients, the first-born

of the first cause. And this is the meaning of what the eastern and

all other philosophers assert, “that it was necessary for unity to

make an evolution of itself, and multiply; it was necessary for good

to communicate itself. There could be no time before then, for then he

would be an imperfect unity, and may as well be termed a cypher, which

of itself can never produce any thing.” Agreeable to this doctrine,

_Philo in_ II. _de monarchiis_, writes, “the _logos_ is the express

image of God, and by whom all the whole world was made.” It would be

senseless to think here, he meant only the wisdom of the supreme, the

reason, the cunning of God, a quality, not a personality.

What difficulty here is in the thing, arises merely from the weakness

of our conceptions, and in being conversant only with ordinary

generation. A son of ours is of the same nature as his father. His

father was begat in time, therefore the son the like. Not so in

divine generation. But as the father is from eternity, so is the son.

This only difference there is, or rather distinction; the father is

self-existent, and unoriginate; the son is of the father.

Further, we must remove, in this kind of reasoning, all the

imperfection of different sexes, as well as time, which is in human

generations; and all such gross ideas incompatible with the most pure

and perfect divine nature. The whole of this our reasoning further

confirms, that the son is necessarily existing. It was necessary for

God to be actively good always, and begetting his son was the greatest

act of divine goodness, and the first, necessarily. But the word

_first_ is absurd, betraying our own imperfection of speech and ideas,

when we treat of these matters; for there could be no _first_, where

no beginning. And the very names of father and son are but relative

and oeconomical; so far useful, that we may be able to entertain some

tolerable notion in these things, so far above our understanding.

But tho’ it be infinitely above our understanding, yet we reach

so far, as to see the necessity of it. And we can no otherwise

cure that immense _vacuum_, that greatest of all absurdities, the

indolence and uselesness of the supreme being, before creation. And

all this the Druids might, and I may venture to say, did arrive at,

by ratiocination. And we can have no difficulty of admitting it,

if we do but suppose, there were obscure notions of such being the

nature of the deity, handed down from the beginning of the world.

Whence in _Chronicon Alexandrinum_, _Malala_, and other authors,

we read, for instance, “in those times (the most early) among the

_Egyptians_ reigned, of the family of _Misraim_, _Sesosiris_, that

is, the branch or offspring of _Osiris_, a man highly venerable for

wisdom, who taught, there were three greatest energies or persons in

the deity, which were but one.” This man was _Lud_, or _Thoth_, son of

_Misraim_ or _Osiris_, and for this reason, when idolatry began, he

was consecrated by the name of _Hermes_, meaning one of those divine

energies, which we call the Holy Spirit.

This is a short and easy account of that knowledge which the ancients

had of the nature of the deity, deduc’d from reason in a contemplative

mind, and which certainly was known to all the world from the

beginning, and rightly call’d a mystery. For our reason is strong

enough to see the necessity of admitting this doctrine, but not to see

the manner. The _how_ of an eternal generation is only to be understood

by the deity itself.

The Druids would pursue this notion from like reasoning a little

further, in this manner. Tho’ from all that has been said, there is

a necessity of admitting an eternal generation, yet the person so

generated, all-perfect God, does not multiply the deity itself, tho’ he

is a person distinct from his father. For addition or subtraction is

argument of imperfection, a thing not to be affirmed of the nature of

the deity. They would therefore say, that tho’ these two, the father

and the son, are different divine personalities, yet they cannot be

called two Gods, or two godheads; for this would be discerping the

deity or godhead, which is equally absurd and wicked.

That mankind did formerly reason in this wise, is too notorious to

need my going about formally to prove it. ’Tis not to be controverted;

very many authors have done it substantially. And when there was

such a notion in the world, our Druids, who had the highest fame for

theological studies, would cultivate it in some such manner as I

have deliver’d, by the mere strength of natural reason. Whether they

would think in this manner _ex priori_, I cannot say; but that they

did so think, we can need no weightier an argument than the operose

work of _Abury_ before us; for nought else could induce men to make

such a stamp, such a picture of their own notion, as this stupendous

production of labour and art.

As our western philosophers made a huge picture of this their idea,

in a work of three miles’ extent, and, as it were, shaded by the

interposition of divers hills; so the more eastern sages who were

not so shy of writing, yet, chose to express it in many obscure and

enigmatic ways. _Pythagoras_, for instance, affirmed, the original of

all things was from unity and an infinite duality. _Plutarc. de plac.

philos._ _Plato_ makes three divine authors of all things, the first

or supreme he calls king, the good. Beside him, he names the cause,

descended from the former; and between them he names _dux_, the leader,

or at other times he calls him the _mind_. Just in the same manner, the

_Egyptians_ called them _father_, _mind_, _power_. Therefore _Plato_,

in his VIth epistle, writing to _Hermias_ and his friends, to enter

into a most solemn oath, directs it to be made before “God the leader

or prince of all things, both that are, and that shall be; and before

the Lord, the father of that leader or prince; and of the cause: all

whom, says he, we shall know manifestly, if we philosophize rightly,

as far as the powers of good men will carry us.” And in _Timæus_

he makes MIND to be the son of GOOD, and to be the more immediate

architect of the world. And in _Epinomis_ he writes, “the most divine

LOGOS or WORD made the world,” the like as _Philo_ wrote; which is

expressly a christian verity.

’Tis not to be wonder’d at, that the ancients wrap’d up this doctrine

in an abstruse and symbolic way of speaking, of writing, and in

hieroglyphic characters and works, as we have seen. It was communicated

to them in the same manner; they did not, could not comprehend it any

more than we, but they held it as a precious depositum of sacred wisdom.

We may therefore make this deduction from what has been said, that the

christian doctrine of distinct personalities in the deity, is so far

from being contrary to reason, as some would have it, or above human

reason as others, that ’tis evidently deducible therefrom, at least

highly agreeable thereto, when seriously propos’d to our reason. And

when most undoubtedly the ancients had such a notion, even from the

creation, those minds that were of a contemplative turn, would embrace

it and cultivate it, as being the most exalted knowledge we are capable

of. Of such a turn were our Druids, as all accounts agree.

CHAP. XVI.

_Of the third species of patriarchal temples, form’d in the

resemblance of a circle and wings. A description of one of this

sort on the banks of the_ Humber _in_ Lincolnshire. _A very

remarkable sort of barrows there, like to beds. This figure

of the alate circle, the_ Egyptians _call’d by the name of_

CNEPH; _authors mistake in telling us it was the name of God.

’Tis indeed the symbol of the third divine emanation from the

supreme, call’d the_ anima mundi. CNEPH _is an oriental word,

from_ canaph, _to_ fly, עוף. _The entire symbol, circle, snake

and wings, was call’d_ CNEPHPTHA. Ptha _more particularly meant

the serpent, or symbol of the second divine person. The supreme,

they held to be ineffable, as well as invisible, therefore

symboliz’d him by the circle. The Neptune of the_ Greeks _deriv’d

from_ CNEPH, דניא dunia, _a circle added to_ Cneph, _is_ circulus

alatus. _He was president of the waters, from_ Gen. i. 2. and

the divine spirit moved upon the face of the waters. _Hence

this temple set on the edge of the_ Humber. _Of the_ Egyptian

Canopus. _Another of these alate temples on_ Navestock-common

_in_ Essex. _The word_ ganaph _preserv’d in the name of the

town._ Knave, gnavus _and_ knap, _a teutonic word, all from the_

hebrew. _Mr._ Toland _mentions an alate temple of the Druids in

the_ hebrid _islands, but does not altogether understand it. Of_

Abaris _the hyperborean Druid, a friend of_ Pythagoras’_s. That

the directive virtue of the magnetic needle was known anciently.

The bed barrows on the_ Humber _banks explain’d. A metaphysical

disquisition concerning the Druids’ knowledge of a third

emanation or divine person, from the supreme; a truth agreeable

to reason. This was the_ Mercury _of the ancients, as well as_

Neptune. _The names which the Druids gave to the three divine

persons. Conclusion. They were in effect Christians._

When I wrote my _Itinerary_, I travelled a good deal of the

_Hermen-street_ road, and the _Foss_ road, having Mr. _Samuel Buck_ in

my company. At that time I engag’d him to take in hand the work, which

he has so laudably pursued, and sav’d the remembrance of innumerable

antiquities in our island, by that collection of elegant prints which

he has publish’d. When we were on the banks of the _Humber_, the name

of _Barrow_ invited my curiosity, and it was fully answer’d, by finding

that most noble antiquity there of the old Druids, upon the _marsh_,

call’d _Humbers castle_.

A rivulet rises near the town of _Barrow_, and when it falls off the

high ground, and enters on the level marshes on the _Humber_ shore, it

turns a mill. Just there, upon the edge of the marsh, upon a gentle

eminence, nearly overflow’d by high spring-tides, and between the salt

and fresh water, is the work we are to speak of, made of great banks

of earth thrown up, in an odd manner, which gives it the denomination

of castle. I observ’d all about it, and in the adjacent marshes, many

long _tumuli_ of different sizes, but all of a particular shape, such

as I had never seen elsewhere, being form’d like a bed. I immediately

set to work in digging into several of them, and we found burnt bones,

ashes, bits of urns, and such kind of matters, all extremely rotten

and decay’d; and the very same appearances as I had so often seen, in

digging the barrows about _Stonehenge_ and _Abury_.

This satisfied me that the work must belong to the most ancient

inhabitants of the island, notwithstanding its unusual form. And when

I attentively consider’d those banks, and made a plan of them, I was

very agreeably surpriz’d in discovering the purport and meaning, which

was to represent the _circulus alatus_ or winged circle, an ancient

hieroglyphic well known to those more particularly conversant with

_Egyptian_ monuments; and what they rightly call the symbol of the

_anima mundi_, or _spirit pervading the universe_; in truth, the divine

spirit.

I had no hesitation in adjudging this to be a temple of our Druids. All

reasons imaginable concurr’d. Tho’ instead of stones, they have made

this work with mounds of earth; I suppose for want of stones, lying on

the surface of the ground. It makes the third kind of the Druid temples

which I proposed to describe. The vertical line of it is north-east and

south-west, the upper part being directly north-east; and the barrows

generally conform to this line, being either upon it, or at right

angles with it; the head of the barrow sometimes one way, sometimes the

other.

The circle was 120 cubits in diameter. The wings 100 cubits broad, 150

long; but the eastern wing was more extended than the other. For the

design of it is somewhat in perspective, as ’tis sometimes seen on

_Egyptian_ antiquities.

This very extraordinary work, which I could not sufficiently admire,

has very often entertain’d my thoughts. We see an uniformity in

human nature throughout all ages. We build our churches, especially

cathedrals, in a cross, the symbol or cognizance of Christianity; the

first builders of churches did it in the symbol of the deity, which

was pictur’d out with great judgment, and that (most likely) from the

beginning of the world.

The circle and wings was the picture of the deity, which the old

_Egyptian_ hierophants call’d CNEPH. As there were three varieties in

this figure, so they had more names than one for it, I mean the whole

figure, the circle, serpent, and wings. And sometimes they used one

word, sometimes another, and sometimes conjoin’d them. _Eusebius_ in

_pr. ev._ III. 3. writes, “that the _Egyptians_ painted God, whom they

call’d _Kneph_, like a man in a blue garment, holding a circle and

serpent (not scepter, for no such figure ever appears) and on his

head, feathers or wings.” Now this very figure is seen on the portals

of the _Persian_ temple of _Chilminar_. Authors are not sufficiently

accurate in these matters, for want of a more perfect knowledge of

them. _Cneph_ is properly the alate circle; yet sometimes they call

the whole figure by that name. So a feather or two, or wings, are

often plac’d on the heads of the _Egyptian_ deities; but the picture

above-mention’d at _Chilminar_ has the wings, as more commonly, annexed

to the circle.

_Phtha_ was another name of one of these figures, which they sometimes

join’d to the preceding, and made the word _Cnephtha_. _Kircher_

erroneously calls it _Hemptha_; for before him _Iamblichus_ err’d in

calling _Cneph_, _Emeph_. _Strabo_ calls _Cneph_, _Cnuphis_, and says

his temple was at _Syene_, XVII. Undoubtedly a temple some way of this

form. _Athenagoras in Eroticis_ VI. calls him Κνεφαιος, _Cnepheus_; and

says, “he can’t be seen by our eyes, nor comprehended by our mind.”

_Hesychius_, and the etymologist _Suidas_, _voce_ κνεφυς, interpret the

word, _obscure_, _hidden_, _not to be seen or understood_. _Iamblichus_

and _Proclus_ the like, who make _Amûn_ and _Phtha_ the same, _Prov._

viii. 30. The truth is, the word _Cneph_ comes from the _hebrew_ ענף

_ganaph volare_, to _fly_, קנף a _wing_, _Psal._ xviii. 11. _He rode

upon the cherubim, and did fly._

Abury, A Temple of the British Druids, With Some Others, Described · 第 12 / 14 段