Supernatural generation. What is meant by the term. Examples. Children
given by the gods. Anecdote. Frequency of god-begotten children in
Ancient Greece. Their general fate. The stories not credited by the
grandfathers of children, nor apparently by the mothers. The babies,
how treated. Foundlings and Hospitals. Antiope. Leucothoee. Divinely
conceived persons not necessarily great or good. Babylonian idea that
a god came down to enjoy human women. Tale from Herodotus. Jehovah as a
man. Grecian idea attached to the expression Son of God. Homer. Hebrew
ideas. Roman notions. Romulus, son of Mars and a Vestal Augustus, son
of Apollo. Modern ideas respecting Incubi. Prevalence of the belief.
Its suppression. Causes of its origin. Bible made to pander to priestly
lust. Dictionnaire Infernal. History of incubi therefrom. Stories.
Strange idea that the Gods who made men out of nothing cannot as easily
make babies. Divine Androgynes. Strange stories of single gods having
offspring. Narayana and the Spirit of God of Genesis. Chaos. Hindoo
mythos of Brahma. Birth from churning a dead man's left arm, and again
his right. Ayonyesvara, his strange history. Similar ones referred
to. History of Carticeya. Christian parallels. Immaculate conception a
Hindoo myth. The dove in India and Christendom. Agni and cloven fiery
tongues. Penance and its powers. Miraculous conception by means' of a
dove. Other myths from various sources.
It is a question which should, in my opinion, be asked by every
individual in a rational community, whether it is advisable to continue,
as a matter of faith, a doctrine which must be repudiated, as a matter
of fact. To this we may join, as a rider, can anyone who puts his
credence in a legend because it is old, claim to be superior to those
who originally invented the tale, in the darkness of antiquity? When
moderns smile at the stories told by the classic Varro, how certain
mares in Lusitania were impregnated by the wind on a certain mountain,
without any access to a horse, and at the credence given to similar
accounts by Virgil, Pliny, and even the Christian bishop Augustine; and
by some old Scotch authority how a young woman became a mother through
the intervention of the ashes of the dead: and when they pity the
benighted Greeks who gave to Hercules, Jupiter for a father; and to
Mars, Juno for a mother, without intercourse with her celestial spouse,
it behoves them to inquire whether each may not be addressed in the
sentence, "Mutato nomine, de te fabula narratur"--i.e., change but the
name of the believers from Greeks and Romans to modern Christians, and
it will be found that Popes, priests, and peoples believe as firmly
now in supernatural generation as the most crass pagan of which history
treats.
Our classical reading tells us abundance of marvellous stories--how
Jupiter seduced Danae in the form of a golden shower, and yet had a
common son by her, who was not an aureous coin; how Leda received Zeus
as a swan, and bore therefrom a couple of eggs; how Europa was tempted
by him as a bull, and yet did not bear a calf; and how Callisto, a
maiden of Diana, was debauched by the same god under the guise of her
mistress, and yet that from two maidens a boy was formed.
Of the amours of Apollo with a dozen and a half damsels, and of the very
numerous disguises which he assumed, we find abundant details in our
classical dictionaries. Mars, though not so frequently adopted by
human females as a lover, had many children of whom he was the putative
father.
Jupiter had Bacchus and Minerva without Juno's aid, and Juno retaliated
by bearing Ares without conversation with her consort. We deride these
tales, and yet think, that because we laugh at a hundred such we shall
be pardoned for believing one. How little we are justified in acting
thus a few philosophical considerations will demonstrate.
There are few things in mythology that are more curious than the subject
of the miraculous formation of certain individuals. Some of these have
been regarded as the offspring of a celestial father and a mother of
earthly mould; others again, as for example AEneas, were said to be
the result of a union between a heavenly mother and a terrestrial
father--e.g., AEneas was the son of Anchises, a handsome man, and Venus,
goddess of beauty and love. Some, though these are few, are said to be
children of a virgin or deserted wife, who has produced them without any
extraneous assistance,* and others are declared to be descended from a
father whom no consort could ever claim. One individual, indeed, called
Orion, is represented as having been wholly independent of both father
and mother, and the result of a strange form of development, the like of
which Darwin never dreamed of as he came from a bladder into which three
gods had micturated. His name, we are gravely assured, came _ab urina_.
* The following is a good case in corroboration of what is
said in the text. In the _Dictionnaire Infernal_, to which
more particular reference will be made shortly, there is, s.
v. Fecondite, a report of a trial before the Parliament of
Grenoble, in which the question was, whether a certain
infant could be declared legitimate which was born after the
husband had been absent from his wife four full years. The
wife asserted that the baby was the offspring of a dream, in
which she had a vivid idea that her wandering spouse had
returned to love and duty. Midwives and physicians were
consulted, and reported on the subject. As a result, the
Parliament ordained that the infant should be adjudged
legitimate, and that its mother should be regarded as a true
and honourable wife. The judgment bears date 13th February
1537.
The quaint ideas associated in mythology with the supernatural
generation here referred to have been various. In some instances they
have been wholly poetical, as when we are told that "the Supreme" by his
union with law and order (Themis) produced "Justice," "the Hours," "Good
Laws," and "Peace" (Hesiod Theogony, 900), and as when Europa is said to
have tempted Jupiter to leave Phoenicia, and travel westward to Crete
as the first step towards the colonization of an unknown continent. In
other instances, the ideas have been framed upon the very natural belief
that anyone--whether existent in story only, or in reality--who has
greatly surpassed his fellows, must have had a large element of the
Deity in his constitution. In other instances, the notion has been
associated with the once prevalent belief, that the Creator had a sex,
to which we shall refer by and by; and in other cases, the fancy has
clearly been mingled with the fact, that many an unmarried woman has
attributed to some god, a pregnancy, or baby, which has been due, in
reality, to a very mortal man. Here we may notice that the fecundity
which damsels of old were wont to refer to a god or some inferior, but
yet beneficent, deity, more modern christian girls have associated with
a demon. Jupiter and Apollo being replaced by a special class of imps
who were named "incubi," and of the particulars of whose embraces the
strangest stories are told. This small truth seems to be sufficient to
demonstrate that the Greeks were not familiar with the being to whom
we give the name of "Satan" and the "Devil," and that their belief
coincided in one respect with that of the older Jews, who considered
that whatever occurrence happened in the world, whether apparently for
good or evil, was done by Jehovah, or as the Hellenic damsels reported
by Jupiter, Apollo, or Mars.
Here, too, I may be permitted to introduce a remark suggested by a
narrative, told to me by a lady of high British rank. She had been
brought up in a foreign country under the eye of a sensible and pious,
we may add prudish, mother, who endeavoured to shield her daughter from
all contact with external vicious influences, and to prevent her ears
or her mind from ever coming to the knowledge of those matters which
are associated with love, marriage, and offspring. When the young lady
naturally inquired of mamma where the infants sprang from which came
into the world and grew up around her, she was told, "from God," and she
was referred to Psalm cxxvii. 3, which declares that "children are an
heritage of the Lord, and the fruit of the womb is His reward." After
having attained adult age, and being wholly imbued with this belief,
she, on one occasion, expressed her opinion that Mademoiselle--who had
recently been confined--must have been a peculiarly virtuous maiden, to
have received so great a present as a baby from the beneficent Creator.
This speech fell like a bombshell amongst a mixed company, but she knew
not why. It was not until her marriage some time subsequently, that she
learned that infants were said to come from God or the Devil according
to circumstances, but that in reality they were always due to men and
women.
The anecdote given above, naturally enables us to call attention to
the remarkable fact that though the Grecian poets repeatedly spoke of
maidens being fertilized by a divinity, yet Greek fathers never paid
any heed to the power of that god, whom their daughters asserted to have
operated upon their femininity; but always treated the earthly love of
the alleged celestial spouse, as if the latter was wholly powerless to
punish the hard-hearted parent, who had no scruples to turn his daughter
from his door, so that she might hide her shame in distant lands. In
those classic times, procreation by a god upon a human being was the
attempted cover for bastardy. Moreover, even the woman herself, to whom
Jupiter or Apollo was alleged to have descended from heaven to honour,
felt herself so much injured by the visit, that she either tried to
destroy the resulting offspring with her own hands, or exposed it upon
a mountain to the tender mercies of dogs and vultures. Much in the
same way many a modern maiden places her shame-covered infant in
the turn-table of a foundling institution. Antiope, for example, the
daughter of a king of Thebes, was, according to her version, beloved by
Jupiter, who visited her in the form of a satyr and implanted twins.
When she discovered the coming event, which casts its shadow before, she
left the paternal mansion, to avoid her father's anger, and fled to a
mountain, on which she left her hapless offspring. They were found by
shepherds and brought up.
The story of fair Leucothoee is still more to the point. She was
sufficiently beautiful to attract Apollo, who seduced her under the form
of her own mother--not a very likely story it is true, but the two lived
happily together until a rival told the loved one's father of the amour.
The incensed paterfamilias ordered his daughter to be buried alive, and
yet the god who could change her body after death into the frankincense
tree, and himself into a matronly looking woman and yet retain his sex,
could not prevent his earthly spouse from dying a cruel death. In other
words, Orchamus, the parent of the damsel, wholly disbelieved in the
existence of a divine "spark," and felt assured that his daughter had
disgraced herself with a man far below her in earthly rank.
From these, and a number of other Grecian anecdotes, we can draw no
other conclusions than that the sires in those days were as jealous of
the honour of their daughters as we are of our own now; that when that
honour was in danger of being tarnished, a god was alleged by the
damsel to be the offender; that the story was not believed; and that the
daughter fled, was punished, or was pardoned, according to the sternness
or credulity of the parents. The idea that individuals who were the
sons or daughters of a god, must necessarily be great and good, does not
appear to have prevailed amongst the ancient Greeks. Nay, we may even
doubt whether any of them really believed that Jupiter, Apollo, or
Neptune, could, or had ever become incarnate, for the sole purpose
of impregnating a human female. That such an idea, however, prevailed
amongst the Babylonians we learn from Herodotus, who informs us, book i.
c. 181, that Belus comes into a chamber at the summit of a sacred tower
to meet therein a native woman, chosen by the god from the whole nation;
and in the succeeding chapter he indicates that a similar occurrence
takes place in Egyptian Thebes, and in Lycian Patarae. Yet even whilst
writing the tales, the historian expresses his own incredulity of their
value, and we may well suppose that the thoughtful generally, would only
give such credence to the statements of the temple priests, as was given
to certain Christian stories by a philosopher, who said he believed them
because they were impossible. Even if the common people credited the
assertion that "The Supreme" did elect a woman with whom to converse, we
must not despise them too lightly, for we are distinctly told in our own
scriptures that Jehovah appeared as a man, and as such, ate, drank, and
talked with Abraham (Gen. ch. xviii.); that Elohim was in the habit of
conversing face to face with Moses (Exod. xxxiii. 11); and that the
same God wrestled with Jacob as a man, and could not prevail against the
patriarch until he had lamed him. We must also notice that myriads of
Christians have believed, and many still do so, that He in a certain
form had commerce with a Hebrew maiden (Luke i. 34, 35), and had by her
a begotten son.
When civilization spread over Greece, there seems to have been a
change of expression--which being at the first wholly metaphorical,
subsequently became realistic. Thus, any man peculiarly characteristic
amongst his fellows for strength, knowledge, or power, was designated
"a son of God." Thus, as Grote remarks (12 vol. edition), vol. ii. p. 132,
note 1. "Even Aristotle ascribed to Homer a divine parentage; a damsel
of the isle of Ios, pregnant by some god, was carried off by pirates to
Smyrna at the time of the Ionic emigration, and there gave birth to the
poet" (Aristotle ap. Plutarch Vit. Homer, p. 1059). Plato, also by
some, called "the divine," was said by Seusippus to be a son of Apollo
(_Smith's Dictionary_, 8. v.) The Hebrews had a similar metaphorical
expression, and gave to everything supereminently good, an epithet which
we may paraphrase as "divine." Some few writers used the title, "sons
of God," as for example, Job i. 6, and xxxviii. 7, and Hosea i. 10; an
epithet adopted by John i. 12, Rom. viii. 14, 19, Phil ii. 15, 1 John iii
1, 2, as if the same were applicable to all who are virtuous and good
to an especial degree. The Hebrews even seem to have adopted the belief
that Elohim, like the Grecian Zeus, had many children, could, and
did really, associate with human beings, for we can in no other way
reasonably interpret the strange narrative in Genesis vi, wherein we are
told that the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, who became
the sires of mighty men of great renown.
Amongst the Romans, similar ideas to those which we find amongst the
Greeks prevailed. For example, Romulus was said to be the son of Mars
and a Vestal virgin; but so little did her relatives believe in the
possibility of the occurrence, or the divine nature of the maiden's
offspring, that the mother was buried alive, and the twins which she
bare were exposed, much in the same way as modern "foundlings" are. In
this case, as in many others, it is probable that little notice would
have been taken of such supernatural generation had the mother been of
low origin--but when a god inveigles a king's daughter from her duty,
both the one and the other must be punished; the one in her person, the
other in his child. Yet these very writers who told of the punishment of
the Vestal Hia for her intrigue with Mars, took advantage of the story,
and spread a report that Romulus, the offspring of the two, was, after
his death, taken up to heaven to dwell there as a god. At a subsequent
period, Augustus Caesar announced, on his mother's authority, that he
was the son of Apollo, and claimed to be treated as a veritable scion of
that venerable deity.
The account of the conception and birth of Servius Tullius is curious
from its circumstantiality. Ovid tells us, _Fasti_, vi., 625-659, Bonn's
translation: "Vulcan was the father of Tullius; Ocrisia was his mother,
a woman of Corniculum, remarkable for her beauty. Her, Tanaquil, having
duly performed the sacred rites, ordered, in company with herself, to
pour some wine on the decorated altar. Here amongst the ashes, either
was, or seemed to be, a form of obscene shape; but such it really was.
Being ordered to do so, the captive (Ocrisia was a slave), submits to
its embraces; conceived by her, Servius had the origin of his birth from
heaven. His father afforded a proof, at the time when he touched his
head with the gleaming fire, and a flame rising to a point, blazed upon
his locks." In some earlier lines, the poet tells us that the goddess,
Fortune, was enamoured of this same Roman king, and visited him
nightly--much as Venus came to converse with Anchises.
In this story, we have an unusual ingredient, inasmuch as there is a
witness to that which we may call the immaculate conception, and after
birth, a proof of the child's divine origin! Of course there are many
irreverent people who declare that the story is untrue--that it is far
more likely that the real father was Tarquin, who, finding his consort's
beautiful servant to be with child, contrived a plan by which she would
escape the vindictiveness of the mistress--one which, if devotionally
inclined, she was bound to give credence to. Nor can devout Christians
altogether range themselves amongst the unbelievers in the miracle, for
the founder of their religion was borne by a woman of low condition, and
is said to have been begotten by an overshadowing spirit. He assumed to
be a king; but the son of Ocrisia became one in reality, and instituted
games in honour of his divine progenitor.
For some more modern poetical fictions of the same nature, we may refer
our readers to Scott's _Lady of the Lake_, where, in the account of the
Highland seer, Brian, they will find a parallel to the story promulgated
by Alexander the false prophet, respecting his birth, described by
Lucian.
The same ideas, with which we are all of us so familiar in Christendom,
that they form a portion of the creeds which the orthodox weekly
rehearse, have obtained in far Ceylon. Thus, for example, we read in a
Buddhistic legend (_Kusa Iatakaya_, translated by T. Steele, Truebner,
London, 1871, small 8vo., pp. 260):--
"As Sakra*, with his thousand eyes gazed over every land,
The hapless queen, with heart distraught, he saw dejected stand;
His godlike eye revealed to him that to her blessed womb
Two radiant gods illustrious from Heaven's high town should come.
Then entering first the Bodisat's blest skyey palace fair,
And next unto another god's, did Sakra straight repair:
Benign he said:--Go to the world of men, that distant scene,
And there be born from out the womb of yon delightful queen.
The saying of the king of gods unto their hearts they took;
Then bathed they in his feet's bright rays that shone as shines a brook:
'Let us be so conceived,' they said, when they the order heard,
'Within the womb of yonder queen, even as the Lord declared.'"
--Stanzas 129-131.
* Indra, "The Supreme."
But the two children do not appear as twins, like Romulus and Remus, for
we find in stanza 155--
"Now when the darling little child, the wisdom-gifted one, Began to lift
his tiny foot, and learn to walk alone, Another god from Heaven's high
town flashed down the sky serene, And was conceived within the womb of
that delightful queen."
I may notice in passing, that the lady was married, but had always been
barren with her husband.
In the instances to which we have referred above, there has been no very
marked departure from the ordinary course of nature. In all, an union
between a father and mother has occurred--in all, the relation between
each to the offspring has been maintained, and the ordinary progress of
gestation observed. The main discrepancies which are to be noticed are,
that a divine is substituted for a human father, or, as in the case of
AEneas, the sire has been a man, and the mother a "celestial." But after
birth, instead of the child being cared for by its parents, it very
frequently happens that a goat, wolf, or other animal, performs
the mother's duty as a nurse. The reader whose antiquarian lore is
considerable, will probably remember that Christians in Italy, France,
and I dare not say in how many other Catholic countries, were implicit
believers in the idea that spirits from the invisible world could assume
a human form, and under that, have intercourse with youths of either
sex. The literature upon this subject was at one time very great, but
such pains have been taken to destroy it, in order that so great a blot
upon the infallibility of Papal rulers should no longer be found, that
there are few books to which I can refer inquirers. The first time I
met with the subject was in a Latin treatise by Cardan, a.d. 1444-1524,*
being commentaries upon Hippocrates. In this, many chapters are devoted
to the possibility of intercourse between women and embodied spirits.
The Mediaeval virgins, unlike the Greeks, always attributed their
pregnancy to demons and not to gods, although on some occasions maidens
were foolish enough, like those of ancient Babylon, to believe that they
were embraced, by a divine being or angel. Into this matter the Italian
doctor enters folly, and endeavours to establish some distinction how
a woman could distinguish an "incubus" from a human being, and if she
became pregnant and brought forth, how the devil's offspring could
be told from an ordinary baby. The particulars which are given to the
learned in Latin, will not bear to be reproduced in the vernacular,
suffice it to say, that they are such as would be given by silly women
more or less conscious of having been guilty of impropriety, and who
were goaded by sanctimonious but ribald divines to enter into every
detail of the devil's doings and the females' sensations.
* It is more than thirty years since I read the book in
question, and I have long ago parted with it. As I am unable
now to lay my hands upon a copy I am not sure whether the
author was Facio Cardan, who flourished at the period given
in the text, or the more celebrated Jerome Cardan who lived
A.D. 1601-1576.
Before saying more of the "incubi," we may bestow a passing glance upon
the foundation of the idea of their existence. In mediaeval times, a
large portion of the New Testament was taken to be literally true, and
the people were instructed to believe that the devil went about like a
roaring lion seeking whom he could devour. The papal priests encouraged
the idea, for by frightening the ignorant, they induced them to purchase
sacerdotal insurance by paying for masses to protect themselves from the
snares of Satan. For hierarchs who were obliged to live without wives,
it was easy in the first place to imbue the mind of a superstitious
maiden with a horror of Apollyon's power, and then to take advantage of
her fears by personifying the fiend. In this manner the bible suggested
the sin to the priest and made the maiden passive.
It would not be profitable to write a catalogue in detail of the
authorities upon which I found these statements. I will rather give a
short resume of an article upon "Incubi," which is to be found in a most
curious book entitled _Dictionnaire Infernal ou Bibliotheque universelle
sur les etres, les personnages, les livres, les faits et les choses
qui tiennent aux apparitions, a la magie, au commerce de Venfer, aux
divinations, aux sciences secretes,... aux erreurs et aux prejuges,...
generalment a toutes les croyances mer-veilleuses, surprenantes
mysterieuses et surnaturelles.--Par M. Colin de Plancy. Deuxieme
edition entierement refondue _; Paris, 1826. The book is rare, but most
interesting to the philosopher who concerns himself about matters
of "faith," for it shows, clearly, that there is no depth of human
degradation into which people who are guided by blind trust in some
fellow mortal, unchecked by the exercise of reason, will not enter, and
there reside permanently, until stirred up by those whom they assert on
the first blush to be "infidels."
After a few preliminary remarks, we are told that the French incubi did
not attack virgins, but in the next paragraph is an account of a maiden
who was seduced by a demon in the form of her betrothed. This was in
Sardinia. An English fiend acted in a similar way, and from the congress
followed a frightful disease of which the poor girl died in three days.
This story is told by Thomas Walsingham, b. A.D. 1410. A Scotch lass
is the next victim reported, and to her the unclean spirit came nightly
under the guise of a fine young man. She became pregnant, and avowed
all. The parents then kept watch, and saw the devil near her in a
monstrous unhuman form. He would not go away till a priest came, then
the incubus made a frightful noise, burned the furniture, and went off
upwards, carrying the roof with him. Three days after a queer form was
born, more horrible than had ever been seen, so bad indeed, that the
midwives strangled it. For the credulous, what fact could be more
strongly attested than this? The reporter is Hector Boetius, b. 1470.
The next tale, having a locale in Bonn, occurred at a time when priests
married and had a family. The daughter of one who was closely watched
and locked up when left by herself, was found out by a demon, who took
upon him the form of a fine young man. Such an occurrence was thought
nothing uncommon then, inasmuch as Paul had told the Corinthians that
Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light (2 Cor. xi. 14). The
poor victim became enceinte and confessed the whole to her father, who,
fearing the devil, and anxious not to make a scandal, sent the daughter
away from home. The impudent fiend came to remonstrate, and killed the
wretched sire with a blow of his fist.--Quoted from _Caesarii Heistere
mirac_., lib. iii., c. 8. The next case occurs at Schinin, wherein
we are told (Hauppius _Biblioth portai, pract._, p. 454) that a woman
produced a baby without head or feet, with a mouth in the chest near to
the left shoulder, and an ear near the right one; instead of fingers it
had webs like frog's feet, it was liver coloured, and shaky as jelly, it
cried when the mother wanted to wash it, but somebody stifled and then
buried it. The mother, however, wanted it be exhumed and burned, for
it was the offspring of a fiend who had counterfeited her husband. The
thing was taken up and given to the hangman for cremation, but he could
neither burn it nor the rags which enwrapped it until the day after the
feast of Ascension.
The following story is laid near Nantes:--Therein a young girl baulked
of her lover, mutters something like a modern order to him to go to
the foul fiend, and remarks to herself that a demon would be a better
friend. She is betrayed in the usual manner, and finds, when too late,
that she is embracing a hairy incubus which has a long tail. She exclaims
fearfully. The "affreet" blows in her face and leaves her. She is found
frightfully disfigured, and is brought to bed seven days after of a
black cat. The remaining histories are of a similar nature, all alike
showing how completely the so-called Christian people of Modern Europe
believed that disembodied spirits could assume human form with such
completeness as to be the father of offspring. We may fairly compare
these tales with that told by heathen Greeks about Jupiter and Alcmena,
but when we place them side by side, the ancients show a far superior
fancy in their fables than do the comparative moderns. I find from
_Reville's History of the Devil_, p. 54 (London: Williams & Norgate,
1871), that so late as a.d. 1756, at Landshut, in Bavaria, a young girl
of thirteen years of age, was convicted of impure intercourse with the
devil, and put to death. It is a pity that no account of the trial is
appended.
Talboys Wheeler, in his _History of India_, vol. IL, p. 515, indicates
that there is to this day, in India, a belief in _incubi_. Speaking
of Paisacha marriages, in which a woman is united to a man without her
knowledge or consent, he remarks:--"The origin of the name is somewhat
curious. The Paisachas were evil spirits or ghosts (see "_Lilith"
and "Satyr" Ancient Faiths_, vol. ii.) who were supposed to haunt the
earth.... If, therefore, a damsel found herself likely to become a
mother without her being able to furnish a satisfactory reason for her
maternity, she would naturally plead that she had been victimized by a
Paisach.... In modern times, however, the belief is still very general
throughout the rural districts of India, that wives, as well as maidens,
may be occasionally victimized by such ghostly admirers."
Every mythologist who has invented such stories as that of Jupiter and
Alcmena, and every woman who has ever attributed her pregnancy to a
divine being, call him what she may, seems completely to ignore the idea
that a god who deserves the name, does not require human aid to produce
a man or woman. Surely every profound thinker would say to himself,
The Supreme, who could by a word create full-grown creatures "in the
beginning," has not lost the power now; surely He, who could make Adam
out of dust, and Eve out of a bone of man, can produce in later days
similar images of the godhead, as we are told in Genesis i. 26,
without accoupling with a descendant of the rib. The mythological
idea, therefore, of a divine child coming from a celestial father and a
terrestrial mother, has nothing profound therein, for it is essentially
a bungling contrivance of some stupid man. On the other hand, such a
notion could only be entertained where a grovelling or anthropomorphic
idea has prevailed, or is cherished amongst a credulous people. To put
the subject into the fewest words possible, a god has never--so far as
thoughtful men can judge--been said to be the father in the flesh of a
human being, except by frail women, or vain, foolish, or designing men.
We are fortified in this conclusion by the method in which nations or
sects who have each their own favourite "son of God," treat each
other. None endeavour to prove that the mother of their own hero had
no commerce with man, for that is impossible--all, on the other hand,
ridicule the idea of there being a child without a human father, and
insist that no woman's word countervails the laws of nature. But this
argument is only used against opposing religionists--it has no weight
against their own divine leader. The cases which we have described are
wholly different from those mythological stories, in which the union
of the sexes is absolutely or relatively ignored. They differ also
from those in which the Creator is represented as androgynous, or being
originally without sex, becomes, by an effort of will, a bisexual being,
so as to bring about the creation of man and of the world. For example,
when we find in the Orphic Hymns (Cory's _Ancient Fragments_, pp. 290,
seq.), "Zeus is male, Immortal Zeus is female," it is clear that there
was in the writer an idea of an union of the sexes being necessary to
creation. But when we find Chaos alone being the progenitor of Erebus
and Black Night, from which again were born Ether and Bay, and Earth the
parent of Heaven and the Sea (Hesiod, Theogony, 116-130), there is a
total absence of a sexual notion. This idea, however, appears in the
subsequent lines which represent Earth wedding with Heaven. The same
sexual notion, appears in another fragment from _Aristophanes_, (Cory,
A. R, p. 293), which tells us that "Night with the black wings first
produced an aerial egg, which in its time gave rise to love, whence
sprung all creation." Yet the egg necessarily presupposes a being which
formed it, and another that fructified it, so that the mythos is not
wholly free from the intermixture of the sexual element.
When mythologists have been peculiarly anxious to shake off the somewhat
grotesque doctrine that the celestial Creator must be independent of any
other power, in the genesis of the world and heaven, there has been a
great variety of attempts to show how this has been brought about. In
one curious Hindoo legend, Vishnu is represented sleeping on the bosom
of Devi, at the bottom of the ocean which covered the world. Suddenly a
lotus sprung from his navel, and grew till it reached the surface of the
flood. From this wonderful flower Brahma sprang, and, seeing nothing but
water, imagined himself the first-born of all creatures. But ere he felt
sure, he descended the stalk and found Vishnu at its root; and then the
two contested their respective claims, but Mahadeva interposed, and, by
a curious contrivance, stopped the quarrel, demonstrating that before
either came into existence there reigned an everlasting lingam.
Another myth closely resembles one which is indicated in the Hebrew
Scriptures, viz., that Narayana, or the spirit of God, a self-existent
entity, moved over the waters, and made them bring forth all things
living. This Narayana is identical with the _yomer elohim_--"the spirit
of God" of the Hebrew Genesis i. 2; the [--Greek--]--the spirit of God,
or Holy Ghost of the Greeks. It is the same as the breezes of thick air
which hovered over chaos in the legend assigned to Sanchoniathon (Cory's
Fragments, p. 1), and produced the slimy matter from which all beings
sprung. Narayana is again the same as the Night of the Orphic fragment
which hovered with her black wings over immensity--the same as the
_chakemah_, or "wisdom" of Proverbs viii.; the Greek _sophia_ and the
_logos_--"the word" of John i. 1. The Buddha--or Brahma of the Hindoo.
From this mysterious source matter was formed into shape and all
creatures sprang into life.
Another Indian mythos (Moor's _Hindoo Pantheon_, p. 78), attributes even
more than this to Brahma. He is said to have produced four beings who
proved refractory, and grieved their maker. To comfort him, Siva issued
from a fold in his forehead--then strengthened by Siva, he produced
Bhrigu and the seven Rishis, and after that, Narada, from his thigh,
Kardama from his shadow, and Dacsha from the forefinger of his right
hand. He had, apparently, without a consort, sixty daughters, and from
these last proceeded all things divine, human, animal, vegetable, and
mineral.
This is not altogether dissimilar from the Hebrew idea of Jehovah
creating all things except woman from the dust,* and forming her
mysteriously from a rib of the only existing man. We may also compare
it with the birth of Minerva from Jupiter's brain, and Bacchus from
his thigh. But the Greek myth differs from the Hindoo, inasmuch as the
deities referred to were originally conceived by human women, and did
not grow from The Thunderer's body like branches from a tree.
* In Mythology, things ever repeat themselves, with very
little alteration. For example, Mahadeva is represented as
fighting with Dacsha, and producing heroes from the dost by
striking the ground with his hair. (See Moor's H. P., p.
107).
There is amongst the Hindoos a goddess called Prit'hvi, who is said to
personify the Earth; she had many names which we need not describe, and
she was also furnished with a consort, whose birth is thus described
(Moor, H. P., p. 111.)--"Vena being an impious and tyrannical prince,
was cursed by the Brahmans, and, in consequence, died without issue. To
remedy this, his left arm was opened, and churned with a stick till it
produced a son, who, proving as wicked as his father, was set aside; and
the right arm* was in like manner churned, which also produced a boy,
who proved to be a form of Vishnu, under the name of Prit'hu." We may
add that Prit'hvi treated him badly, and he had to beat and tear her
before she would be comfortable with him. Hence the necessity for
ploughing and digging before crops of cereals, &c., will abound. We can
understand the last part of the legend better than the first. In the
Vedic Mythology, we may say generally, that the means of producing
offspring are curiously numerous; for example, we find in Goldstucker's
_Sanscrit and English Dictionary_, page 20, under the word _angiras_--a
statement that an individual bearing this cognomen, is named in the
Vaidik legends, as one of the 'Prajapatis', or progenitors of mankind,
engendered, according to some, by Manu; according to others, by Brahma
himself, either with the female half of his body, _or from his mouth, or
from the space "between his eyebrows._"
* As these legends generally are based upon something which
Europeans would designate a vile pun, I turned to the
Sanscrit Lexicon (Monier Williams), first to ascertain the
names of "the arm;" and, secondly, if there were any words
allied to it, however remotely, which had a certain meaning.
Amongst others, I find that _buja_ signifies "an arm," and
_bhaga_ is a name of Siva--one of whose epithets, _bhagan-
dara_ = "rending the vulva." _Dosha_ also means "the arm"
and "night." Another word having the same meaning, is
_praveshta_, and this not only signifies the arm, but one
"who covers over." We can then, I think, see why the device
of the churning, referred to in the text, made a process
available for the production of a child. The legend is a
clumsy one, but not more so than that in Exodus xxxiii. 23,
wherein we are told that Jehovah showed to Moses "His back
parts,"--Vulgate, _posteriora mea_--inasmuch as no one could
see His face and live!
A still more curious story is related in the same dictionary, p. 451,
under the word _ayonijeswara_. This appellative is one belonging to a
sacred place of pilgrimage sacred to _Ayonija_, whose miraculous birth
was thus brought about. A very learned Muni, though making a commendable
use of the proper nasal way of reading sacred scripture in his own
person, yet associated with individuals who did not give the orthodox
twang.* The good man remained, in consequence of this, in a sonless
condition, but the legend does not condescend to explain why toleration
of tones in religious ceremony should make a husband infertile and
his wife barren. At any rate, the Muni, named Vidyananda, feeling the
punishment a great one, travelled, apparently alone, from one holy
place to another without being nearer paternity. At length he met with
a _yogin_ or male anchoret, hermit, devotee, or saint, corresponding
to the _yoginis_, who are represented by Moor (H. P., p. 235) as being
sometimes very lovely and alluring; and he, taking pity upon the Muni,
gave him a wonderful fruit, which, he informed him, if eaten by his
wife, would have the effect of procuring for Vidyananda the birth of a
son. But the Muni, like many another character in mythological and fairy
tales, seems suddenly to have lost his sense of hope deferred and a
certain prospect of relief, for instead of hurrying home he sought
repose under a tree on a river's brink, and whilst there ate the fruit
himself. He at once became pregnant. When the new state of things
was evident, he confessed all that had happened to the Yogin, and the
latter, by means of his supernatural power, introduced a stick into the
body of Yidyananda, and relieved him of the infant. The creature was a
beautiful boy, radiant like the disc of the sun, and endowed with divine
lustre, and on account of the mode in which he was born his father
called him _Ayonija_, which signifies, "not born from the womb." The
account then goes on to state that this miraculous infant became a
wonderfully good, learned, pious, religious, and fanatic man; that the
god, delighted with his piety, gave him sons and grandsons, and after
his death received him into his heaven. Any persons coming now to
bake at the spot where these favours from Siva were granted, and
duly performing the various duties of a pious pilgrim, are rewarded,
according to their piety, &c., with progeny, worldly happiness, freedom
from transmigration, and eternal bliss.
* This reminds me of an anecdote which I once read of a
devout Scotch mother, who, on hearing her son read the Bible
in an ordinary tone of voice, cuffed him violently because
he presumed to read that Holy Book without the customary
religious drawl.
Under the word _Ayonija_, Goldstucker gives the following examples
of individuals "not born from the _yoni_" viz.:--"_Drona_, the son
of Bharadwaja, who was born in a bucket" "_Suyya_, whose origin was
unknown." "_Draupadi_, who at a sacrifice of her father Drupada, arose
out of the sacrificial ground." "_Sita_, who sprang into existence in
the same manner as Draupadi" The same is also an epithet of Vishnu or
Krishna.
These stories pale in interest before that of the origin of Carticeya
(see Moor's H. P., p. 51, 89), and I give an account of this legend,
foolish though many conceive it to be, for everything which is
connected with a Hindoo mythos is remarkable, whenever it is found to be
antecedently parallel with Christian surroundings of a somewhat similar
narrative. We notice, for example, in the following tale, that the
Indian idea of the power of "penance" and "asceticism," is, that these
doings or actions are so great, that by their means alone man may compel
the Creator to do things against His design, whilst in the Papal
tales of certain monks and nuns, we find the doctrine asserted that by
preeminent fastings, scourgings and prayers, people have acquired the
power to sell salvation to their fellow men, in a manner different to
that which is appointed. Again, the god when forced to obey the power of
the devotee, is represented as inventing a method by which he could,
as it were, cheat himself, just as Jehovah or Elohim is said to have
contrived a plan by which He could circumvent Himself for the vow which
He had made to destroy all the men upon the earth by a flood of water.
Again, as the arrogance of the ascetic threatened to destroy the world
and the heaven, a deliverer or a saviour was promised, who should be
begotten by an incarnate god upon a goddess equally incarnate, and save
mankind from a terrible devil This is a counterpart of the Papal theory,
which makes it appear that a portion of the godhead became incorporated
with a dove, and had union with a woman, herself an immaculate
manifestation of another portion of "The Supreme." Yet still more
striking than this, is the part which the dove plays in the Indian
mythos of the birth of the Hindoo Saviour. In almost every mediaeval
painting or etching of the miraculous conception of the Virgin Mary, the
dove takes the position of the divine father of Jesus. Nay, so distinct
is the idea intended to be conveyed in one instance, that a dove,
surrounded by a galaxy of angelic heads, darts a ray from his body on
high, into the very part of the virgin, proper to receive it. The design
of the artist is still farther heightened by the _vesica piscis_, the
emblem of woman being marked upon the appropriate part of the dress, and
a figure of an infant within it, points unmistakeably to the belief that
the Holy Ghost, like a dove, absolutely begot the Jewish saviour as he
did the Hindoo deliverer of gods and men. (_See Ancient Faiths_, vol IL,
p. 648, fig. 48).
But the parallel may even be carried farther, for in the Indian history
it is Agni, the embodiment of fire or the fire or sun god, who
becomes the dove; whilst in the Christian history, fire is one of the
manifestations of the Holy Ghost (Acts ii. 3). We conclude this from the
fact, that all devout churchmen believe that the Holy Ghost descended
upon the day of Pentecost with the sound of a rushing mighty wind, as
a multitude of cloven fiery tongues, which again suggests to the
recollection of those familiar with the Vedic story, that the
Maruts--rushing, mighty, stormy winds--were frequent attendants upon
Agni For example, in one of the Hymns (p. 39) of the Rig Veda Sanhita
(translated by Max Mueller), the burden or chorus of every verse is,
"with the Maruts come hither, O Agni." Here, however, the parallel
between the two myths ceases, for in the Indian tale the saviour has no
earthly mother. We may really affirm that he has no mother at all, being
the offspring of the father alone, whilst in the Christian history, the
deliverer is represented as having no human sire. The one story is just
as likely to be true as the other, or just as unlikely. As a reasonable
being I cannot believe the one without crediting the other, or reject
only one of the two.
With this preface, we may proceed to relate the legend as recorded
by Moor. A certain devil or Daitya--for it must be remarked that the
Hindoos regard the devil as being composed of many individualities,
much in the same way as Christians do--was extremely ambitious and
oppressive, as Satan is said to have been in heaven.* To force Brahma
to promise him any boon he should require, the ascetic went through the
following penances, persisting in each for a hundred years. (1) He stood
on one foot, holding the other, and both hands upwards, and fixed his
eyes on the sun. (2) He stood on one great toe. (3) He lived upon water
alone. (4) He lived on air. (5) He immersed himself in water. (6) He
buried himself in the earth, and yet continued as before in incessant
adoration. (7) He then did the same in fire. (8) Then he stood upon his
head with his feet upwards. (9) He then stood upon one hand. (10) He
hung by his hands from a tree. (11) He hung on a tree with his head
downwards.
* I call attention to these parallels, for they compel as
either to accept the Hindoo stories as true, because they
coincide with that which Christians regard as "revealed
truth," or they oblige as to distrust our current ideas as
to the inspired verity of some biblical stories, founded as
they are upon the same, or a similar, basis to those of the
Brahmins. The Hindoo tale being founded in the Sinpurana,
there can be no reasonable doubt that its fabrication
preceded that of the Hebrew or Christian mythos.
The effect of these austerities alarmed all the gods, and they went to
Brahma for consolation. He answered that though he was bound to grant
the boon desired by a man who became powerful by his austerities, he
would devise a method of rendering it inoffensive to the heavenly host.
Tarika, the name borne by the Daitya, asked for the gift of unrivalled
strength, and that no hand should slay him except a son of Mahadeva.
This being acquired, he plundered all the minor gods--the sun, dreading
him, gave no heat; and the moon, in terror, remained always at the
full--in short, the devil, Tarika, usurped the entire management of the
universe. Nareda--the personification of Reason--Wisdom, the Logos, or
"word," now prophesied that the destined deliverer, or saviour of the
world, would come from the union of Mahadeva and Parvati. But the
first was indisposed to marry, and only consented to do so after being
mollified by ardent devotions and great austerities enacted by the
second. To the horror, however, of the discomfited world, Parvati was
barren; and the gods deputed Agni to try to produce the son whom all
so earnestly desired. He took the form of "a dove," and arrived in the
presence of Mahadeva just as he had risen from the arms of Parvati,
and received from him, in a manner not easy or necessary to describe
minutely, the germ of Carticeya; but, unable to retain it, the bird let
it fall from his bill into the Ganges. On the banks of this river arose,
therefrom, a boy, beautiful as the moon, and bright as the sun. This was
"The Saviour" promised by the prophet. When he attained to manhood, he
fought the devil in a terrific combat which lasted ten whole days; but
Carticeya came off the conqueror, and delivered the world. I may notice
in passing that as Carticeya is represented to be the son of his
father, Mahadeva alone--so Ganesa, who was born after the marriage
above referred to, is said to be solely the son of his mother, Parvati;
Mahadeva not having anything to do with him. It is still farther stated
in the _Sin purana_ that the husband was jealous, and displeased at
this assumption of independent power by his spouse, punished her in the
person of this mysterious son (Moor, H. P., page 171-2).
There is another Hindoo story in which a father alone becomes the
progenitor of twins--and it is remarkable, not only for this, but for
the dread which a deity is said to feel from the austerities of a man.
Wheeler (_History of India_, vol. i, p. 78; Williams' _Sanscrit Lexicon,
s. v. Kripa_), regards this tale as Brahmanical, and, accepting his
authority, we can see that the asceticism which is introduced into the
story is intended to exalt the claims of that section of the priesthood
who torture themselves. It runs thus:--Saradvat, by the magnitude of his
penances, frightened Indra, who sent a celestial nymph to tempt him.
He resisted all her wiles, and refused all commerce with her; but his
excited imagination produced one of its common effects, and from that
which was "spilled upon the ground" a boy and girl arose, Drona and
Kripa. In Wheeler's sketch of the story, two such miraculous events
occur, for a precisely similar occurrence took place with a certain
Raja--and the males sprung from this supernatural form of generation,
Drona and Drupada, became cronies, and were educated together. In
Wheeler's account Kripa becomes the wife of Drona, and not his twin
sister. She is represented to have been born from a Brahmin named
Gautama, in the same fashion as Drona was. Certes, the scribes who wrote
the gospels, and doubled wonders to make them more miraculous, are far
behind the Hindoos in the unblushing effrontery of their conceptions.
A story somewhat analogous to that of the origin of Carticeya--Drona
and Drupada, is to be found in Grecian mythology. Therein we read
(see Lempriere's _Classical Dictionary, 8.V_., Minerva), that
Jupiter promised to his daughter, Minerva, that she should never be
married--since that was her especial desire. But, unfortunately, the
Thunderer had not a good memory, and was unable to foresee the future;
he therefore promised to Vulcan that he would--in return for a perfect
suit of armour--give him whatsoever boon he asked. The distorted god,
being a great admirer of the personification of wisdom, demanded Minerva
in marriage. Zeus then granted his petition and gave Minerva to him for
a bride, so that "arts and arms" should thenceforth be wedded together.
But the goddess disliked Vulcan, just as much as science and philosophy
shun war and physical weapons. Jupiter then privately counselled his
daughter to submit, apparently, but to contend, actually, whenever her
husband should endeavour to caress her. This advice the goddess very
artfully and determinately carried out. But Vulcan's impetuosity was
extreme, and the contest between the spouses was prolonged. Though the
promised wife was in the end victorious, and retained her virginity, the
scene of the strife, like many another battle-field, required cleansing.
The material employed by the goddess in the process was thrown down
to earth, and from this stuff sprung Ericthonius, as the son of Vulcan
alone, who, on attaining man's estate, became the fourth king of Athens.
A somewhat similar story is told of Jupiter (Arnobius, _adv. Gentes_, B.
v.), who is represented as enamoured of Themis, who, when lying on the
rock Agdus, in Phrygia, and there surprised by the god, resisted his
desires, as Minerva had done those of Vulcan, and with a somewhat
similar result. But in this instance, that which the author calls in
another passage of his work, the _vis Lucilii_, fell upon the hard rock.
This conceived, and, after ten months, the stony soil brought forth a
son, called, from his maternal parent, Agdistis. His character, and even
his appearance, were frightful and rugged in the extreme. His strength,
recklessness, and audacity frightened all the gods. In their dilemma,
Bacchus offered to give his aid, and proceeded first to make the man
drunk by substituting wine for the water of the fountain from which he
habitually drank. Then, by a curious contrivance, he made the fierce
hunter emasculate himself. The earth swallows up the sanguinary ruins
of his manhood, and in their place comes up a pomegranate tree in full
bearing. This being seen by Nana, a king's daughter, she plucks some of
the fruit, and lays it in her bosom. By this she becomes pregnant, and,
her story being disbelieved, her father attempts to starve her. But the
mother of the gods sustains her with apples (see Canticles ii. 5),
and berries, or other food. Her baby, when born, is exposed as being
illegitimate, but found by a goatherd and brought up--becoming the all
but deified Atys.
In this legend, we see one son born without a human mother, and a second
without any other father than Rimmon, or a pomegranate.*
* Agdus, Agdistis, &c--I am frequently tempted, after
reading a story like the preceding, to search in the
Sanscrit lexicon to ascertain if there can be any esoteric
signification in the legend that can be explained by that
ancient language. Arnobius opens the story with a statement
of the remote antiquity of the tale, and how it is connected
with the Great Mother. He then tells of a wild district in
Phrygia, called Agdus. Stoaes taken from it, as Themis had
enjoined, were used by Deucalion and Pyrrha to repeople the
world which had been destroyed by a flood. The great mother
was fashioned amongst the rest, and animated by the deity;
then follows the story given in the text. Now, in the
Sanscrit, Agadha signifies a "hole or chasm," and such
things have from the earliest times typified the Celestial
Mother. Agdistis I take to be a Greek form of Agasti--son
both of Mitra and Varuna by Urvasi, said to have been born
in a water-jar, to have swallowed the ocean, and compelled
the Vindhya mountains to prostrate themselves before him,
&c. (Monier Williams' Sanskrit English Lexicon, pp. 4, 6).
Themis may be a corruption of Dhamas--the moon, an epithet
of Vishnu, Yama, and Brahma; also the Supreme Spirit (M. W.
op. cit., p. 448). Deucalion seems readily to be resolved
into the dyu or div--holy, and Kalam, semen virile (M. W.,
p. 211). Pyrrha may apparently be derived from bdra--an
opening or aperture (M. W.); also bhdra--bearing, carrying,
cherishing, supporting (M. W., p. 700). Atys, described as
of surpassing beauty, may fairly be associated with atisi
and atisaya--to surpass, excel, exceed; and pre-eminence,
superiority (M. W., op. cit., p. 15). Liber, again, who is
clever enough to outwit and conquer Agdistis, may, without
too strong a stretch of imagination, come from Idbha--
obtaining, gaining, getting; capture, conquest; the rootword
is labh--to seize, to take hold of, gain, recover, regain,
fcc. (M. W., p. 861, 2). Nana, the mother of Atys the
beautiful, has probably come from nanda--happiness,
pleasure, joy, felicity, delight (M. W., op. cit. p. 467).
In the previous volumes I have referred to the pomegranate--
Hebrew, Rimmon--as an emblem. In the legend which makes Nana
conceive by eating this fruit, there are, I fancy, two
ideas--one, that the pomegranate is filled with seeds and
pulp of a red colour; the other, that in the Greek its name
is rota, or roa, which has a close resemblance in sound with
reo--to flow or gush. Of the word Midas--the name of him who
sought to bring about the union of the opposite sexes by
marrying his daughter Nana to Attis or Atys, the most
appropriate etymon which I can find in the Sanscrit is in
the root math, which signifies to strike fire by rubbing
wood together, to churn or produce by churning.
If we allow that there is truth in these derivations, we can then see
how completely Arnobius has been deceived by taking the legend au pied
de la lettre. He sees nothing but the exoteric side of the fable; the
more instructed philosopher sees in it nothing beyond an attempt to
weave a story to account for ordinary men and women existing. The Earth,
from her deep womb produces stones which become male and female (compare
Psalm cxxzix. 15--"When I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in
the lowest parts of the earth." But mycologists were not always content
with giving precedence in creation to the "Great Mother," consequently
the "Father of all" comes upon the scene from no one knows where.
Refusing to share with him her supremacy, he, like the Hindoo Mahadeva,
becomes a father in spite of her. Like his parent, the son becomes
raging mad, like an elephant or a horse in spring. He is tamed by
castration, but the parts he loses still bear a fructifying power,
and once more, a maiden--type of the celestial virgin, has offspring.
Without going further into the tale, the story teller endeavours again
to introduce marriage, but on the threshold arrests himself, apparently
under the idea that the wedded state takes away the pleasure of freedom
from fine young men. Beyond this point it would be unprofitable to go,
since few of us can realize Greek ideas on certain matters.
The origin of Venus is told by Hesiod in such a manner as to lead his
readers to believe that, not only was she the daughter of a father
alone, but of that particular part of his body which has been deified
as a Trinity. After speaking (_Theogmy_, 170-200), of the cruelty of
Ouranos, and how his wife inspirited Cronos to punish his father by
means of a sickle made of white iron extracted from her body (t.&, the
earth), we read--"Then came vast Heaven, Ouranos, bringing Night with
him, and eager for love, brooded around Earth (_Ge_) and lay stretched,
I wot, on all sides; but his son from out his ambush grasped at him with
his left hand, whilst in his right he took the huge sickle, long and
jagged-toothed, and hastily mowed off the genitals of his sire, and
threw them, to be carried away, behind him. These fell into the sea,
and kept drifting a long time up and down the deep, and all around kept
rising a white foam from the immortal flesh; and in it a maiden was
nourished. First, she drew nigh divine Cythera, and thence came next to
wave-washed Cyprus. Then forth stepped an awful, beauteous goddess; and
beneath her delicate feet the verdure throve around; her, gods and men
name Aphrodite the foam-sprung goddess," &c. (Bonn's Translation, p.
11,12).
Still further, we find in the Grecian mythology that Minerva was the
offspring of Jupiter without a mother being in the case--unless we
put faith in the tale, that the god impregnated Metis, or wisdom, and
afterwards ate her up. In this case the goddess ought, however, to have
emerged from the abdomen, and not from the head of her father. Vulcan,
moreover, is said to have been the son of Juno alone, "who in this
wished to imitate Jupiter, who had produced Minerva from his brains"--a
mythos which does not tally with the statement that Zeus ordered Vulcan
to cleave his head open, not the part corresponding to the yoni The
tales certainly lack that evidence which the philosopher is bound to
seek for; but for those orthodox believers who are bound to credit every
extraordinary event which is recorded in the books of the faithful,
no testimony is required. Those who feel assured that a serpent, ox,
donkey, tree, bush, and other things have spoken rationally, can readily
extend their trust and assure themselves that a female has had a child
without a male, and _vice versa_--especially when the individuals were
divine.
As we have before remarked, there is nothing in the mythological stories
which we have just recounted that is either more or less miraculous than
conception, &c., by a virgin without the intervention of a human
spouse. There is, whenever a miraculous agency is presumed, no greater
difficulty in believing that children may be produced without mothers,
than that they should be formed without the intervention of a father.
Ere a tree can rise in the soil of a field, a germ, seed, or cutting is
as necessary as the existence of a moist mould, or other ground. There
being then no greater probability that a crop will spring from a moist
plain without seed, than that an abundant harvest will come from dry
seed alone, we are necessarily thrown back upon testimony, when we are
asked to believe in the paternity of man and the maternity of woman
without any association of the one with the other.
The mythologists who conceived, or who recorded the fabulous history of
Orion, evidently had some idea in their minds of the necessity of two
elements in the formation and growth of a child, when they told the
tale of the generation of that giant; and the myth connected with this
individual is so curiously like one recorded in the Hebrew Scriptures,
that it deserves full notice. In Genesis the narrative informs us that
there was an old couple, both beyond the age at which there is any
probability of either party performing the part necessary for the
production of offspring (Gen. xviii. 12), both were desirous of having
at least one son, but though they had been long united in marriage,
their aspirations had been vain. To this couple, or rather to the
husband, Jehovah is said to have appeared with two companions (Gen.
xviii. 1, 2), and as the man was hospitably disposed, he ordered his
wife to make some cakes, whilst he went to fetch and kill a calf for his
servant to dress and cook. The visitors then partook, alone, of the good
cheer, and when they had made the repast they promised the husband that
his long cherished desire should be fulfilled, and that he should have a
son. There does not, however, appear to be anything supernatural in the
generation of the infant, except the mere facts that the father had been
effete for some time, and the mother had always been barren even when
young, so that conception was more surely miraculous by reason of her
advanced age. The probability of pregnancy at Sarah's time of life was
certainly small, but she was reminded that nothing was too hard for
Jehovah to effect. Had not He already made man out of dust and woman out
of man? and surely after that it was easy to cause a man and woman to
act their respective parts. The reader must specially bear in mind this
observation of the Lord's when he reads the Greek story following. (See
Ovid's _Fasti_, book 5).
"Jupiter, his brother Neptune, and Mercury, were on their travels; the
day was far spent and evening approached. They were spied by a venerable
man, an humble farmer, who stood in the doorway of his small abode. He
accosts them with the words, 'long is the road and but little of the day
remains, my door too is ever open to the stranger,' and so earnest is
his look of entreaty, that the gods accept his invitation."
Jupiter and the others, however, conceal their divine nature, and
eat and drink like common men. But after a draught of wine, Neptune
inadvertently names Jupiter, and the poor man who has thus entertained
angels unawares, is frightened at their presence. After a few moments of
natural embarrassment, he goes to his field and kills his only ox--the
drawer of his plough--then he cuts up the animal, roasts it well,
produces his best wine, and lays the feast, when ready, before his
august guests. Then Jove, delighted with his hospitality and piety, says
to the farmer, 'If thy inclination leads thee to desire anything, wish
for it, and thou shalt receive it.' To which the old man answers, 'I
once had a dear wife, known as the choice of my early youth, yet she is
now gone from me and an urn contains her ashes.
To her I vowed, calling upon you my lord gods as witnesses to the oath,
that I would never wed me more. I swore and will keep my word. She and
I longed for a son, yet none came to bless our declining years. I yearn
for one now, but will not endeavour to procure one, I wish to be a
father, yet refuse to be a husband or enact his part.' To deities like
Jupiter, such a request was by no means a difficult one to grant, the
gods could as readily form a boy as they could fabricate Pandora--a
lovely woman--and send her to Prometheus, with all the ills which flesh
is heir to, confined in an ark, chest, or coffer. Yet the process of
what may be designated conception was a strange one. The three simply
relieved themselves of the wine which they had drunk, using the skin of
the slaughtered ox instead of a more commodious vessel. The man was then
ordered to bury the whole in the ground, and wait according to the time
of life. The gestation of the earth was completed in ten months, and
at the end of that period the venerable farmer possessed a fine lad who
grew up and became famous. If, now, we substitute for the Grecian name,
Hyrieus, the Hebrew title Abraham; if for Jupiter, Neptune, and Mercury,
we read, Jehovah and two angels; if for the phrase, "they were on their
travels," we read, "they were going down to Sodom to see if it was as
bad a place as it was reported to be" (see Gen. xviii. 21); if for the
ox which was roasted, we place, "a calf tender and good," we see a
wonderful resemblance between the stories of the conception of Orion and
Isaac. But there is this difference that in the Hebrew tale the divine
gift is brought about by a transient restoration of power to Abraham
and Sarah; whilst in the Grecian mythos, the old man is faithful to
the memory of a beloved spouse, and refuses to renew with another the
pleasure which he had in her company. We conceive that the exigency of
the Jewish account, made it necessary that the son of Abraham should be
of his father begotten, as well as a child of promise; whereas no one
can call Orion the son of any one, although he was as surely a child of
promise granted by the gods, as Isaac was, who was given by Elohim (or
the gods) of the Hebrews.
We may enter now, for a short time, into a speculation whether the
Grecian story was borrowed from the Hebrew or the contrary. We are
disposed to believe that the tale was adopted by the Jews after they
became acquainted with the Greeks. The following are our reasons:--The
conception of a godhead composed of three persons, is foreign to the
Hebrew thoughts of the Almighty. Still further was it from Jewish
belief to think, that Jehovah would come down upon earth to acquire
information, and when there, eat and drink and talk like any ordinary
man. Amongst the Israelites it was generally held that no one could see
the face of God and live, On the other hand, the Greeks were familiar
with tales which told of gods coming down to earth in the guise of men.
As an illustration of this, we may point to Acts xiv. 11-13, wherein
we find that the people of Lycaonia imagined that the gods Jupiter and
Mercurius had come down to them in the likeness of men, and prepared
to sacrifice to them. Yet after all, Paul had simply cured a single
paralytic. On the other hand, the Jews regarded as rank blasphemy, and
a crime worthy of death, that Jesus should assert himself to be a son of
God, even although the miracles alleged in support of the assertion were
as stupendous as they were numerous.
Still, further, we cannot imagine that the degrading story of Jehovah's
feasting with Abraham could have been composed, except when the Jews
were no better than an untaught and grossly superstitious race. We
have already, in _Ancient Faiths, &c._, expressed our opinion that the
Israelites were at the very lowest period of their history at the time
when Isaiah began his exhortations. There had been a confederacy between
the men of Edom, of Moab, Gebal, Amnion, Amalek, Tyre, Philistia, and
Assyria, the Ismaelites and the Hagarenes, which had attacked Jerusalem
and Judea, and captured all the inhabitants, many of whom they sold to
the Grecians (see Joel iii. 5-7). At, and shortly after this time,
the Jews were in a condition of abject misery (see Isaiah i. 4-9), and
capable of believing any story told to them, and would just as easily
credit the mythology which the Grecian captives told, or their Grecian
masters taught, as their successors do those which at a subsequent
period filled the Hebrew Scriptures.
Whilst then, on the one hand, there is a probability of the Hebrews
having borrowed the fable from Hellenistic sources, there is, on the
other, the strongest objection to the supposition that the Greeks
should have borrowed from the Jews. Everything which the latter say of
themselves, indicates that they were exclusive to an inordinate
degree, refusing to have intercourse on equal terms with any of their
neighbours, that they never sought to make their history, laws, and
customs, known to Gentiles, and especially those outside of Judea, and
that their writings never assumed a Grecian dress until the time of
Ptolemy Philadelphus, who ordered the Septuagint translation to be made
about B.c. 285, with the direct view of making the Hebrew Scriptures
known to the Greeks.
Moreover, we know from everything which was said of the Jews by
the Gentiles, that the latter treated the former with contempt and
contumely, and would no more dream of imitating any of their writings,
&c., than we should care to adopt the myths of Abyssinian negroes as an
integral part of Christianity.
It will now be profitable if we examine the story of Sanchoniathon and
the statements of the Orphic Hymns.
We have, in the course of this chapter and elsewhere, so" often referred
to the Grecian story of the Creation as given by Sanchoniathon and in
the Orphic hymns, that I think my readers are entitled to receive
some further account of them; so I reproduce passages which bear upon
supernatural generation, and especially that of the world and its
inhabitants--my main authority being _Ancient Fragments, &c._, by J. P.
Cory (London, 1832).
Of Sanchoniathon we know little; our information may be summed up by
saying that he is mentioned eulogistically by Eusebius (a.d. 270-338),
an historian whose veracity cannot be entirely depended on. He says that
Sanchoniathon had, ere his time, been translated by a certain writer
called Philon Byblius, and it seems that Porphyry is credited with
having copied a great part of this translation into Greek from the
Phoenician. Nothing, however, is actually known of the historian in
question, except from Eusebius (_Smith's Dictionary_, p. 308, vol.III.,
s. v., Philon.) We may then assume, according to our inclination, either
that the story is really a compendium of Tyrian legendary lore, or
simply a representation of what the Greeks imagined. The way, however,
in which the generation of beings is described, well deserves attention
from its similarity, and its contrasts with the biblical story. First,
there was a breeze of thick air and Chaos. These united and produced
Pothos. This again united with the wind, and Mot was the result, also
called Ilus; from this sprung the seed of Creation. And there were
certain animals without sensation, from which intelligent animals were
produced.* After this follows a quantity of stuff that is traceable to
Hesiod, and a part of which may be considered a paraphrase of Genesis.
Then mention is made of Elioun, called Hypsistus (the most High),
and his wife Beruth--as being the contemporaries of others; but no
indication is given from whence they came. These produced Ouranos
(Heaven) and Ge (Earth). Their father was killed by wild beasts! Then
Ouranos married Ge, and had offspring by her. But he had other women,
and Ge was jealous. Ouranos, however, came to her when he listed and
attempted to kill her children. He had a son, Cronus, who drove him from
his kingdom. This son turns out to be the original being called Ilus,
and he contrived to emasculate his father, and from the blood which
flowed sprang rivers and fountains. The remainder of this story scarcely
deserves notice.
* The author of the tale evidently had something in common
with our modern Darwin.
Ere we turn our attention to the compositions known as the Orphic Hymns,
it will be interesting to inquire whether the preceding account of
Creation had a Phoenician origin, or may more fairly be traced to an
Indian source flowing through a Greek channel After a diligent search in
the Hebrew Lexicon--and it is to be noticed that the Hebrew is all but
identical with the Tyrian and Carthaginian, I cannot find any words
or roots from which the proper names in the opening paragraph of
Sanchoniathon can by any ingenuity be derived. Nor can I discover in the
Greek anything which explains the esoteric signification of the story.
But, on reference to the Sanscrit, there is a curious identity apparent
between the second verse in Genesis and a Hindoo idea. The former
runs:--"The earth was without form and void (_tohu ve bohu_), and
darkness was upon the face of the deep, and the spirit of God moved
on the face of the waters." The Indian interpretation of the myth is
this:--"Air in motion, _vahu_, ruffled the inexplicable, or empty space,
_ka, has_, or _Icha, Icham_, a word also signifying 'nothing.' Thence
proceeded the earth, _Ua, or Mot_ (Sans); _Math_ (Sans) making fire
by rubbing sticks (coitus?) _Mada, mdda, and moda_, pleasure, delight,
gladness=love, Eros." This is almost the same idea that Hesiod
propounds.
In the Orphic Hymns we find much more clearly than in any other writing
amongst the ancient Greeks the early Hellenic notion of the generation
of the worlds and of mankind. Respecting the value of the fragments
there may be some difference of opinion. The curious and doubtful may
be referred to _Smith's Dictionary_ (s.v. Orpheus); for me it will
be sufficient to state that both Aristophanes and Plato refer to the
presumed author as a religious teacher and a preacher against murder,
and Euripides frequently mentions him. This will place Orpheus at least
before b.c. 480. If, however, we consider him as identical with the
oft-sung husband of Eurydice, we must place him B.c. 650 (Smith, s.v.).
In quoting from Cory's translation, I shall not scruple to make the
sense of more importance than literality: "Zeus is the first--he, the
thunderer, is the last; he is the head and the middle, he fabricated all
things. Zeus is male; he, the immortal, is also female; he founded the
earth and the starry heaven; he is the breath of all things, the rushing
of indefatigable fire. Zeus is the root of the sea, the sun and moon,
the king, the author of universal life; one power, one demon, the
mighty prince of all things; one kingly frame, in which this universe
revolves--fire and water, earth and ether, night and day, and Metis
(counsel); the primeval father and all delightful Eros (love). All these
things are united in the vast body of Zeus. Would you behold his head
and his fair face? It is the resplendent heaven, round which his golden
locks of glittering stars are beautifully exalted in the air. On each
side are the two golden taurine horns, the risings and settings, the
tracks of the celestial gods: his eyes are the sun and opposing moon;
his unfallacious mind the royal incorruptible Ether."
The next fragment has been filched by the author of _Sanchoniathon_, and
we must not quote it. After a recapitulation about Chaos, Cronos, Ether,
and Eros, he proceeds:--"I have sung the illustrious father of night
existing from eternity, whom men call Phanes, for he first appeared. I
have sung the birth of powerful Brimo (Hecate), and the unhallowed deeds
of the earth-born giants who showered down from heaven their blood--the
lamentable seed of generation, from whence sprung the race of mortals
who inhabit the boundless earth for ever."
"Chaos was generated first, and then the wide-bosomed Earth--the ever
stable seat of all the Immortals that inhabit the snowy peaks of Olympus
and the dark dim Tartarus in the depths of the broad-wayed earth, and
Eros--the fairest of the immortal gods, that relaxes the strength of
all, both gods and men, and subjugates the mind and the sage will in
their breasts. From Chaos were generated Erebus and black Night; and
from Night again were generated Ether and day, whom she brought forth,
having conceived from the embrace of Erebus; and Earth first produced
the starry heaven, equal to herself, that it might inclose all things
around herself."
The preceding is given by Hesiod (900 B.c.). The following is the
version given by Aristophanes:--"First were Chaos and Night, and black
Erebus and vast Tartarus; and there was neither Earth nor Air nor
Heaven: but in the boundless bosoms of Erebus, Night with her black
wings first produced an aerial egg, from which at the completed time
sprang forth the lovely Eros, glittering with golden wings upon his back
like the swift whirlwinds. But embracing the dark-winged Chaos in the
vast Tartarus he begot our race (the birds). The race of the Immortals
was not till Eros mingled all things together; but when the elements
were mixed one with another, Heaven was produced, and Ocean and Earth
and the imperishable race of all the blessed gods."
"Maia, supreme of gods, Immortal Night, tell me, &c." The next
invocation is to the double-natured Protogonus--the bull coming from
the egg, the renowned light, the ineffable strength, Priapus the king,
&c.--"Metis (wisdom) bearing the seed of the gods, whom the blessed
inhabitants of Olympus call Phanes Protogonus." "Metis the first father
and all-delightful Eros." Again, in allusion to Phanes,--
"Therefore the first god bears with himself the heads of animals--many
and single--of a bull, of a serpent, and of a fierce lion, and
they sprung from the primeval egg in which the animal is seminally
contained." "The theologist places around him the heads of a ram, a
bull, a lion, and a dragon, and assigns him first both the male and
female sex." "Female and Father is the mighty god Ericapeus; to him also
the wings are first given."
The Japanese account of the creation is of sufficient interest to
be noticed here. I quote it from a translation of the _Annals of the
Emperors of Japan_, by Mons. Titsingh, assisted by interpreters of the
Dutch Factory at Nagasaki, and rendered into French, after being duly
compared with the original by M. J. Klapworth--(printed for the Oriental
Translation Fund of Great Britain and Ireland; London, 1834). In the
account of the seven generations of the heavenly bodies, we are told
that "anciently the heaven and the earth were not distinct, nor was the
female principle then separated from the male. The chaos, having the
form of an egg, moved about like the waves of an agitated sea. The germs
of everything were there, and these ultimately divided, the pure and
transparent ones going upward to form heaven, whilst the dull and opaque
ones coagulated and formed the earth. Between the two a divine being
sprang up; he was followed by two others in succession." All these were
pure males, and engendered without consorts. After them came a male and
a female deity, but they had no intercourse with each other. These and
three other divine couples, who followed them, reproduced their like by
mutual contemplation. The last couple directed the "celestial spear
made of a red precious stone"--said by Japanese commentators to be
the phallus--into the world below, and stirred it up to the bottom. On
withdrawing the lance some drops fell from it and produced an island,
upon which the celestial couple descended. Each one then began to walk
in opposite directions around the isle, and when they met the feminine
spirit sang joyously--"I am delighted to find so handsome a young man."
But this vexed the male spirit, who, being a man, asserted that he ought
to have been allowed to speak the first. So they parted once more on
their solitary walk; and when they met the second time, the woman waited
to be spoken to. Then followed a conversation somewhat too coarse for
repetition, which was followed by corporeal union. From the intercourse
of these divine beings all creation sprang. But, after a time, the
partners reflected that there was still wanting a governor for the
world which they had engendered. So they again accoupled, and produced
a daughter so lovely, that her parents thought her too good for earth;
gave her the name of "the precious wisdom of the heavenly sun," and sent
her to heaven, there to assume the universal government of all things.
The parents once again united, and produced the moon, who was sent to
heaven to assist her sister. A terrible fellow was then born from them,
who represents the Devil, or those tempests which seem to oppose the
beneficent action of the sun upon the soil. The parents returned to
heaven, and there are constant contentions between the brother and
sister. The former is described as being furious under attempts at
control; generally, he was quiet, and always had tears in his eyes (dew
and rain), but sometimes, when provoked, he broke every thing, uprooted
trees, and set the mountain forests on fire. We need not pursue
the story further than to say that the celestial beings created a
terrestrial couple, whose children bear considerable resemblance to the
Greek Jupiter, Apollo, Neptune, and others, and from them came the first
Emperors of Japan. In the matter of evidence upon such a point as the
conception of a man without a woman, or a woman without a man, it is
clear that unsupported assertion is wholly valueless.
For example, I may for a time absent myself from general society, and
return to it again after a certain interval, having with me a child,
whom I assert to be my very own, produced by my own inherent power, just
as a tree produces a leaf which grows, matures, and falls. I may frame
a romantic account of a dream, in which I was told that if I planted
myself in the central bed of a certain garden, and contrived an
apparatus for daily watering my buried legs, that a child would sprout
from my right side, who should be to me as a daughter. Yet, however
ingenious my tale, there is not any one possessing sound sense and
knowledge who would believe me. In like manner, if a woman should tell a
story analogous, though not identical, she is certain to be discredited;
even the assertion of the existence of a divine father would not, if the
woman were unmated, save her character from a stain.
We may next refer to the legend of Prometheus, inasmuch as in many
points it resembles the Hebrew mythos so greatly, that we must imagine
they both have a common origin, or that the one is a copy--though
an indifferent one, of the other. Prometheus, or forethought, was
represented to be the first who made an ordinary man--he formed him
of clay, and then animated him with fire from heaven. The Jewish tale
asserts that it was Jehovah who made the first man. That man was first
formed like a statue out of clay or dust, and had no life until breath
was infused into his nostrils. In both stories man alone is formed
first. In the Grecian fable Prometheus does not make a consort for his
man; nay, he refuses to receive one for himself when the gods send
to him Pandora--a paragon of loveliness. Instead of this he gives the
damsel to Epimetheus--or after-thought--who takes her carelessly, and
finds that even a charming woman is not a guarantee against cares and
woes. Some accounts, however, say that Prometheus made both man and
woman out of clay.
The discrepancy does not signify much, for we see the same in Genesis,
wherein we are told in one place that man and woman were made together,
whilst in another the story runs that Adam preceded Eve, and that,
instead of being formed of dust or clay, the latter was formed of bone.
We may now refer to the story of Apollonius Tyaneus, whose history has
interest for us, inasmuch as it illustrates three important points, upon
which much stress has been, and may still be, laid by inquiring minds.
The most conspicuous is the propensity of historians, or, to speak
more correctly, of a biographer, to record wonderful things about an
extraordinary man; next the ridicule cast upon the tale by those who
have circulated stories equally improbable, and the indication that
travel to Hindostan was apparently common, prior to and during his time.
In sketching the life of the philosopher, I quote something from
_Le Dictionnaire Infernal_, and the rest from Smith's _Biographical
Dictionary_. The philosopher in question was born about 4 years B.C. His
history was written by Philostratus, about 100 years after the hero's
death, and is ostensibly founded upon memoirs left by his secretary,
Damis, an Assyrian, who accompanied Apollonius during his travels, and
recorded his discourses and prophecies, and acted much as Luke did with
Paul.
Amongst the proofs which Damis gives of his veracity, he tells us that
when he and his master traversed the Caucasus, they saw the chains which
bound Prometheus, still fixed to the rocks. This bit of verification
is now derided, but in my school-days I recollect having an account put
into my hands, written by some author, stating that the remains of the
ark were still to be seen upon Mount Ararat.*
* On the day before this was written there appeared in _The
Telegraph_ a paragraph, to the effect that an Assyrian slab
had been translated by Mr. Smith of the British Museum. The
record is said to give an account of "the deluge," and it
tallies nearly with that given by Berosus, recorded in my
second volume. It adds, however, that the ark was at that
period in existence, and its wood and bitumen used as
amulets. Singularly enough, the tale is supposed to confirm
the bible legend, the writer of the paragraph never dreaming
that it more certainly confirms the Babylonian or Assyrian
origin of the book of Genesis. The other parts of this slab,
which were wanting, have more recently been found. But there
is no necessity for me to change the wording of the note.
There was also current a "Joe Miller" about some old woman, who would
not believe in flying-fish, which her sailor-boy had seen, but who
readily believed his tale of hooking up a chariot wheel on an anchor
fluke from the bottom of the Red Sea!
Dr. Smith, or Mr. Jowett, the author of the article, very judiciously
says--"We have purposely omitted the wonders with which Philostratus has
garnished his narrative.... _Many of these are curiously coincident with
the Christian miracles_--(the italics are our own). The proclamation of
the birth of Apollonius to his mother by Proteus, and the incarnation of
Proteus himself; the chorus of swans which sung for joy on the occasion,
the casting out of devils, the raising the dead and healing the
sick, the sudden disappearances and reappearances of Apollonius; his
adventures in the cave of Trophonius, and the sacred voice which called
him at his death--to which may be added his claim as a teacher, having
authority to reform the world--cannot fail to suggest the parallel
passages in the Gospel history." We learn, moreover, that the biographer
was high in favour with Alexander Severus, and that Eusebius of Caesarea
naively allows the truth of Philostratus' narrative in the main, with
the exception of what is miraculous. None of the authors quoted seem
to think of the adage--"Change but the names, and the same classes of
wonders are a matter of faith to you." Surely it is as easy to credit
the strange deeds of Proteus as those of Gabriel.
Whether we choose to adopt the hypothesis that Apollonius was a rival
of Jesus, that the Nazarene and Tyanean were independent of each other,
that the evangelists took a hint from Damis, or Philostratus imitated
Luke in more ways than one, we have still the fact that two different
biographers, giving a history of the life of two contemporary
individuals, assert that the birth of their respective heroes was
announced by a divine being, who himself brought about the conception
of the infant that, on arriving at maturity, was held to be divine.
In writing thus, it will be distinctly understood that we draw no
comparison between Jesus and Apollonius, but only between the authors
who have undertaken their respective biography.
Leaving this curious point, the next noteworthy one is that Philostratus
records, that the Tyanean went through Assyria, Babylonia, and Bactria,
to India, "where he met Jarchus, the chief of the Brahmins, and disputed
with Indian gymnosophists _already versed in Alexandrian philosophy_."
I have placed these last words in italics, to call attention to the
apparent belief of the historian, that prior to his day there had been
extensive religious communication between India and Greece--a point on
which I have much insisted in a previous chapter. The Tyanean is said to
have been five years upon his eastern journey. We have no idea where the
Nazarene was during his youth and before he began his public career, and
we cannot help regarding the omission to notice this part of his life as
being blameworthy in the evangelists. Those who knew so much of Jesus at
his conception, and about his birth and infancy, could surely, if they
would, have informed us of his adult years.
Nor, _a propos_ to this short account of the biography of Apollonius, by
Damis and Philostratus, must we omit to notice the conceits of those
who have assumed that the Tyanean was set up as a counterfoil to, or an
imitator of, Jesus of Nazareth; for, just as the Christians may, with
some show of reason, affirm that the miracles recorded in their writings
have been filched by others; so may the Buddhist, with still greater
plausibility, declare that the greatest part of the life of the
Nazarene, as given in the Gospels, has been copied almost verbatim from
the biographers or evangelists of the Indian saga For myself, I consider
that the miraculous parts of the history of all the three conspicuous
men which have been named are equally true or--false.
The idea of attributing to the Supreme God the birth, or, rather, the
procreation, of an extraordinary man, seems, so far as we can judge, to
have existed in the Western Hemisphere as well as in the Eastern. For
example, in an interesting book, entitled _New Tracks in North America_,
by W. A. Bell, M.A., M.B., Cantab; London, 1869, we find the following
legend respecting Montezuma, the most popular ruler of the ancient
Mexicans. The legend is intended to explain the occurrence of vast ruins
amongst the Pima Indians, of which other history is silent, and runs
thus: "Long ago a woman of exquisite beauty ruled over the valleys and
the region south of them. Many suitors came from far to woo her, and
brought presents innumerable of corn, skins, and cattle to lay at her
feet. Her virtue and determination to continue unmarried remained alike
unshaken, and her store of worldly possessions so greatly increased,
that, when drought and desolation came upon her land, she fed her people
out of her great abundance, and did not miss it, there was so much left.
One night, as she lay asleep, her garment was blown from off her breast,
and a dew drop from the Great Spirit fell upon her bosom, entered her
blood, and caused her to conceive. In time she bore a child, who was
none other than Montezuma, who built the large 'Casas,' and all the
other ruins which are scattered through the land" (vol. i. p. 199).
It is allowable for the reader to doubt whether there ever was a Mexican
Queen whose renown was spread far and wide, who preferred celibacy to
marriage, and who, being rich, was not plundered by the chiefs whose
alliance was rejected. We may equally doubt the efficacy of a drop
of water, even though it came from the Great Celestial Spirit; but,
notwithstanding every objection which the most sceptical can advance,
the legend is quite as probable as those current amongst the ancient
Greeks, the religious Hindoos, and a large portion of modern Christians.
A miracle, always improbable, is not necessarily true because it is said
to have occurred in the old world, or indubitably false because it is
reported to have happened in the new. Nor can one who regards faith as
superior to reason, refuse to believe or to question the truth of
any supernatural story simply because he was not told it during his
childhood or youth.
When the philosophical inquirer finds that in every country, with whose
literature we are familiar, there are, not only abundance of tales
about supernatural generation before the world was formed, but from
the earliest periods of history to our own day, he may well pause
and inquire into the intrinsic value of a religion or a faith that is
founded mainly, if not wholly, upon the assertion that a certain person
was the son of the Supreme Creator, and being so, has the qualities of
his sire as well as those of his human mother. The orthodox in Britain
do not believe in Cristna, Krishna, or Vishnu, because the Hindoo sacred
books declare that he has appeared repeatedly as an incarnation of
the Creator--nor do they credit the tales told of the supernatural
generation of Bacchus or Hercules--yet, when they are asked what
stronger evidence they have for the truth of their own story, they are
unable to give more than affirmations, strong, perhaps, but not more so
than those of ancient Hellenic priests.
It is out of my province, now, to enter into every thing connected
with the doctrine held by those who are known as Trinitarians. My
main endeavour in this part of my subject is to clear the way for
"reconstruction." It is my desire to give to those who have not the
leisure, or, perhaps, the inclination, to wade through the dull tomes of
theological, mythological, and similar books, an account of what is and
has been entertained as religious belief by others, with whom, or with
whose opinions, they have not come in contact. I have no special wish to
prove that my opinions are right and the prevailing ones wrong; my chief
aim is to give data by which others may form a judgment for themselves.
With this view I have systematically endeavoured to satisfy myself of
the trustworthiness of the witnesses whom I call upon to testify to
facts; to my knowledge, nothing has been suppressed which seems to me to
bear upon my subject, nor is aught set down in malice.
In my next chapter I shall institute an inquiry into another important
doctrine, held by Christians from their first existence until the
present day, namely, the Existence and Ministration of Angels. Since the
chapter was originally written, Dr. Kalisch has published an essay upon
the same subject in the second part of his commentary upon Leviticus.
I shall probably take the liberty of quoting from his pages; but, as
we treat the matter from different points of view, I do not feel called
upon to suppress my own work because he has preceded me. It gives me
pleasure to feel and to know that fellow-workers in the same toilsome
task, not only may help each other, but rejoice in the opportunity of so
doing.