of the Garden of Eden, sternly enjoining Adam and Eve not to eat of its
fruit under pain of death. Now the poor woman knew nothing of death and
could not understand what a dreadful punishment it was; and there was
the fruit dangling before her eyes every hour of the day. Is it any
wonder that she brooded incessantly on the one thing forbidden, that her
woman's curiosity was irresistably piqued by it, and that at last her
longing grew so intense that she exclaimed, "Dear me! I can't refrain
any longer. Let the consequences be what they will, I must have a bite."
God made the woman; he knew her weakness; and he must have known that
the plan he devised to test her obedience was the most certain trap that
could be invented. Jehovah played with poor Eve just as a cat plays with
a mouse. She had free-will, say the theologians. Yes, and so has the
mouse a free run. But the cat knows she can catch it again, and finish
it off when she is tired of playing.
Not only did God allow Eve's curiosity to urge her on to sin, he also
permitted the serpent, "more subtil than any beast of the field," to
supplement its action. This wily creature is popularly supposed to have
been animated on the occasion by the Devil himself; although, as we
shall explain in another _Romance_ entitled "The Bible Devil," the book
of Genesis makes not even the remotest allusion to such a personage.
If, however, the tempter _was_ the Devil, what chance had the poor woman
against his seductive wiles? And even if he was only a serpent, he was
very "subtil" as we are told, and able to talk like a book, and we know
that these creatures have fatal powers of fascination. Surely Mother Eve
was heavily handicapped. God might have given her fair play, and left
her to fight the battle without furnishing auxiliaries to the strong
side.
The serpent, we have said, could converse in human speech. His
conversation and his conduct will be dealt with in the _Romance_ just
referred to. Suffice it here to say that he plainly told the woman that
God was a liar. "He," said the tempter, "has said ye shall surely die if
ye touch the fruit of this tree. Don't believe it. I tell you, ye shall
not surely die." What could poor Eve think? In addition to her native
curiosity here was another incentive to disobedience. Which of these two
spoke the truth? There was only one way of deciding. She stretched forth
her hand, plucked an apple, and began to eat. And immediately, says
Milton,
"Earth felt the wound, and nature from her seat,
Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe
That all was lost."
What a rumpus about a trifle! It reminds us of the story of a Jew who
had a sneaking inclination for a certain meat prohibited by his creed.
One day the temptation to partake was too strong; he slipped into a
place of refreshment and ordered some sausages. The weather happened to
be tempestuous, and just as he raised his knife and fork to attack the
savory morsel, a violent clap of thunder nearly frightened him out of
his senses. Gathering courage, he essayed a second time, but another
thunderclap warned him to desist. A third attempt was foiled in the same
way. Whereupon he threw down his knife and fork and made for the door,
exclaiming "What a dreadful fuss about a little bit of pork."
Eve's transgression, according to the learned Lightfoot, occurred "about
_high noone_, the time of eating." The same authority informs us that
she and Adam "did lie comfortlesse, till towards the cool of the day, or
_three o'clock afternoon_." However that may be, it is most certain that
the first woman speedily got the better of the first man. She told him
the apple was nice and he took a bite also. Perhaps he had resolved to
share her fortunes good or bad, and objected to be left alone with his
menagerie. Lightfoot describes the wife as "the weaker vessell," but
a lady friend of ours says that the Devil stormed the citadel first,
knowing well that such a poor outpost as Adam could easily be carried
afterwards.
Having eaten of the fruit, and thus learned to distinguish between good
and evil, Adam and Eve quickly discovered that they were naked. So they
"sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons." We are not told
who gave them lessons in sewing. Perhaps they acquired the art through
intuition. But the necessary implements could not have been gained in
that way. Dr. Thomas Burnet, whose mind was greatly exercised by the
astounding wonders of the Bible, very pertinently asked "Whence had
they a needle, whence a thread, on the first day of their creation?"
He, however, could give no answer to the question, nor can we, except we
suppose that some of the female angels had attended a "garden party"
in Eden and carelessly left their needles and thread behind them. Any
reader who is dissatisfied with this explanation must inquire of the
nearest parson, who, as he belongs to a class supposed to know almost
everything, and believed to have access to the oracles of God, will
doubtless be able to reveal the whole gospel truth on the subject.
A little later, God himself, who is everywhere at once, came down from
everywhere to the Garden of Eden, for the purpose of taking a "walk in
the cool of the day." He had perhaps just visited the infernal regions
to see that everything was ready for the reception of the miserable
creatures he meant to damn, or to assure himself that the Devil was
really not at home; and was anxious to cool himself before returning to
his celestial abode, as well as to purify himself from the sulphurous
taint which might else have sent a shudder through all the seraphic
hosts. Apparently he was holding a soliloquy, for Adam and Eve "heard
his voice." Colenso, however, renders this portion of the Romance
differently from our authorised version--"And they heard the sound
of Jehovah-Elohim walking in the garden in the breeze of the day."
Delitzsch thinks they heard the sound of his footsteps, for God used to
visit them in the form of a man! Could the force of folly farther go?
Any devout Theist, who candidly thought over this petty fiction, would
find its gross anthropomorphism inexpressibly shocking.
Knowing that God was everywhere, Adam and Eve nevertheless "hid
themselves from the presence of the Lord God amongst the trees of the
garden." But they were soon dragged forth to the light. Adam, who
seems to have been a silly fellow, explained that he had hidden himself
because he was _naked_, as though the Lord had not seen him in that
state before. "Naked!" said the Lord, "Who told thee that thou wast
naked. Hast thou eaten of that tree, eh?" "O, Lord, yes," replied Adam;
"just a little bit; but it wasn't my fault, _she_ made me do it, O Lord!
O Lord!" Whereupon God, who although he knows everything, even before it
happens, was singularly ill-informed on this occasion, turned fiercely
upon the woman, asking her what she had done. "Oh, if you please,"
whimpered poor Eve, "it _was_ I who took the first bite; but the serpent
beguiled me, and the fault you see is not mine but his. Oh dear! oh
dear!" Then the Lord utterly lost his temper. He cursed the serpent,
cursed the woman, cursed the man, and even cursed the ground beneath
their feet Everything about at the time came in for a share of the
malison. In fact, it was what the Yankees would call a good, all-round,
level swear.
The curse of the serpent is a subject we must reserve for our pamphlet
on "The Bible Devil," The curse of the woman was that she should bring
forth children in pain and sorrow, and that the man should rule over
her. With her present physiological condition, woman must always have
suffered during conception as she now does; and therefore Delitzsch
infers that her structure must have undergone a change, although he
cannot say in what respect He dwells also on the "subjection" of woman,
which "the religion of Revelation" has made by degrees more endurable;
probably forgetting that the Teutonic women of ancient times were
regarded with veneration, long before Christianity originated. Besides,
the subordination of the female is not peculiar to the human race, but
is the general law throughout the animal world.
Adam's curse was less severe. He was doomed to till the ground, and to
earn his bread by the sweat of his face. Most of us would rather take
part in the great strenuous battle of life, than loll about under the
trees in the Garden of Eden, chewing the cud like contemplative cows.
What men have had to complain of in all ages is, not that they have to
earn their living by labour, but that when the sweat of their faces has
been plenteously poured forth the "bread" has too often not accrued to
them as the reward of their industry.
Orthodox Christianity avers that all the posterity of Adam and Eve
necessarily participate in their curse, and the doctrine of Original Sin
is taught from all its pulpits. Only by baptism can the stains of our
native guilt be effaced; and thus the unbaptized, even infants, perish
everlastingly, and hell, to use the words of a Protestant divine, holds
many a babe not a span long. A great Catholic divine says--"Hold thou
most firmly, nor do thou in any respect doubt, that infants, whether
in their mothers' wombs they begin to live and then die, or when, after
their mothers have given birth to them, they pass from this life without
the sacrament of holy baptism, will be punished with the everlasting
punishment of eternal fire." Horror of horrors! These men call sceptics
blasphemers, but they are the real blasphemers when they attribute to
their God such supreme injustice and cruelty. What should we think of
a legislator who proposed that the descendants of all thieves should be
imprisoned, and the descendants of all murderers hung? We should think
that he was bad or mad. Yet this is precisely analogous to the conduct
ascribed to God, who should be infinitely wiser than the wisest man and
infinitely better than the best.
The crime of our first parents was indeed pregnant with the direst
consequences. It not only induced the seeds of original sin, but it also
brought death into the world. Milton sings--
"Of man's first disobedience,
And the fruit Of that forbidden tree,
Whose mortal taste
_Brought death into the world_."
And Saint Paul (Romans v., 12) writes "As by one man sin came into the
world, and death by sin."
Now this theory implies that before the Fall the inhabited portion
of the world was the scene of perfect peace. Birds lived on seeds and
eschewed worms, and the fierce carniverous animals grazed like oxen. The
lion laid down with the lamb. "Waal," said the Yankee, "I don't doubt
that, but I rayther guess the lamb was _inside_." The fact is that
most of the carnivorous animals could not live on a vegetable drat;
and therefore they must either have subsisted on flesh before the Fall,
which of course involves _death_, or their natures must have undergone
a radical change. The first supposition contradicts scripture, and the
second contradicts science.
Geology shows us that in the very earliest times living creatures died
from the same causes which kill them now. Many were overwhelmed by
floods and volcanoes, or engulphed by earthquakes; many died of old age
or disease, for their bones are found distorted or carious, and their
limbs twisted with pain; while the greater number were devoured,
according to the general law of the struggle for existence. Death ruled
universally before the human race made its appearance on the earth, and
has absolutely nothing to do with Eve and her apple.
Adam and Eve were warned by God that in the day they ate of the fruit of
the Tree of Knowledge they should surely die. The serpent declared this
to be rank nonsense, and the event proved his veracity. What age Eve
attained to the Holy Bible saith not, for it never considers women of
sufficient importance to have their longevities chronicled. But Adam
lived to the remarkably good old age of nine hundred and thirty years.
Like our Charles the Second he took "an unconscionable time a-dying."
One of his descendants, the famous Methusaleh, lived thirty-nine years
longer; while the more famous Melchizedek is not even dead yet, if any
credence is to be placed in the words of holy Saint Paul.
But all these are mere lambs, infants, or chicken, in comparison with
the primeval patriarchs of India. Buckle tells us that, according to the
Hindoos, common men in ancient times lived to the age of 80,000 years,
some dying a little sooner and some a little later. Two of their kings,
Yudhishther and Alarka, reigned respectively 27,000 and 66,000 years.
Both these were cut off in their prime; for some of the early poets
lived to be about half a million; while one king, the most virtuous as
well as the most remarkable of all, was two million years old when he
began to reign, and after reigning 6,800,000 years, he resigned his
empire and lingered on for 100,000 years more. Adam is not in the hunt
with that tough old fellow. On the principle that it is as well to be
hung for a sheep as a lamb, faithful Christians should swallow him as
well as Adam. When the throat of their credulity is once distended
they may as well take in everything that comes. What followed the Curse
clearly shows that man was not originally created immortal. Adam and Eve
were expelled from the Garden of Eden expressly in order that they might
not become so. God "drove them forth" lest they should "take also of the
tree of life, and eat, and live for ever." Many orthodox writers, who
have to maintain the doctrine of our natural immortality, preserve a
discreet silence on this text. Our great Milton, who has so largely
determined the Protestant theology of England, goes right in the face of
Scripture when he makes God say of man,
"I at first with two fair gifts
Created him endowed, with happiness
And _immortality_."
The fact is, the Book of Genesis never once alludes to any such thing,
nor does it represent man as endowed with any other soul than that
"breath of life" given to all animals. It is also certain that the
_ancient_ Jews were entirely ignorant of the doctrine of a life beyond
the grave. The highest promise that Moses is said to have made in the
Decalogue was that their "days should be long in the land." The Jews
were a business people, and they wanted all promises fulfilled on this
side of death.
Nor is there any real _Fall_ implied in this story. God himself says
that "the man," having eaten of the forbidden fruit, "is become as one
of us." That could scarcely be a fall which brought him nearer to God.
Bishop South, indeed, in a very eloquent passage of his sermon on "Man
Created in God's Image," celebrates the inconceivable perfection of
the first man, and concludes by saying that "An Aristotle was but the
rubbish of an Adam, and Athens but the rudiments of Paradise." But a
candid perusal of Genesis obliges us to dissent from this view, Adam and
Eve were a very childish pair. Whatever intellect they possessed
they carefully concealed. Not a scintillation of it has reached us.
Shakespeare and Newton are an infinite improvement on Adam and Eve. One
of the Gnostic sects, who played such havoc with the early Christian
Church, utterly rejected the idea of a Fall. "The Ophites," says Didron,
"considered the God of the Jews not only to be a most wicked but an
unintelligent being.... According to their account, Jalda-baoth,
the wicked demi-god adored by the Jews under the name of Jehovah, was
jealous of man, and wished to prevent the progress of knowledge; but the
serpent, the agent of superior wisdom, came to teach man what course he
ought to pursue, and by what means he might regain the knowledge of good
and evil. The Ophites consequently adored the serpent, and cursed the
true God Jehovah."
Before expelling Adam and Eve from Eden, the Lord took pity on their
nakedness, and apparently seeing that their skill in needle-work did not
go beyond aprons, he "made coats of skins, and clothed them." Jehovah
was thus the first tailor, and the prototype of that imperishable class
of workmen, of whom it was said that it takes nine of them to make a
man. He was also the first butcher and the first tanner, for he must
have slain the animals and dressed their skins.
Lest they should return he "placed at the east of the Garden of Eden
_Cherubims_, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way
of the tree of life." As this guard seems never to have been relieved,
profane wits have speculated whether the Flood drowned them, and
quenched the flaming sword with a great hiss. Ezekiel describes the
Cherubims with characteristic magnificence. These creatures with wings
and wheels were "full of eyes round about." And "everyone had low faces:
the first face was the face of a cherub, and the second face was the
face of a man, and the third the face of a lion, and the fourth the face
of an eagle." What monsters! No wonder they effectually frightened poor
Adam and Eve from attempting a re-entrance into the Garden.
Perhaps the reader would like to know what became of the Tree of
Knowledge. One legend of the Middle Ages relates that Eve along with
the forbidden fruit broke off a branch which she carried with her from
Paradise. Planted outside by her hand, it grew to a great tree, under
which Abel was killed; at a later time it was used in building the most
holy place of Solomon's temple; and finally it yielded the beams out of
which the cross was made! Another legend says that, after the Fall,
God rooted out the Tree of Knowledge, and flung it over the wall of
Paradise. A thousand years after it was found by Abraham, none the worse
for its long absence from the soil. He planted it in his garden, and
while doing so he was informed by a voice from heaven that this was the
tree on whose wood the Redeemer should be crucified.
Space does not allow us to dwell at length on the Paradise Myths of
other ancient peoples, which singularly resembled that of the Jews.
Formerly it was alleged that these were all corruptions of the Genesaic
story. But it is now known that most of them date long anterior to the
very existence of the Jewish people. As Kalisch says, "they belonged to
the common traditionary lore of the Asiatic nations." The Bible story of
Paradise is derived almost entirely from the Persian myth. It was after
contact with the reformed religion of Zoroaster, during their captivity,
that the remnant of the Jews who returned to Palestine collated their
ancient literature, and revised it in accordance with their new ideas.
The story of Eve and her Apple is, as every scholar knows, an oriental
myth slightly altered by the Jewish scribes to suit the national taste,
and has absolutely no claims on our credence. And if this be so, the
doctrine of the Fall collapses, and down comes the whole Christian
structure which is erected upon it.
THE BIBLE DEVIL.
BIBLE ROMANCES.--4.
By G. W. FOOTE.
The Christian Godhead is usually spoken and written of as a Trinity,
whereas it is in fact a Quaternion, consisting of God the Father, God
the Son, God the Holy Ghost, and God the Devil. The Roman Catholics add
yet another, Goddess the Virgin Mary. God the Devil, whom this _Romance_
treats of so far as his history is contained in the Bible, is popularly
supposed to be inferior to the other persons of the Godhead. In reality,
however, he is vastly their superior both in wisdom and in power. For,
whereas they made the world, he has appropriated it almost entirely to
himself; and, whereas they who created all its inhabitants, have only
been able to lay down a very narrow-gauge railway to the Kingdom of
Heaven, he has contrived to lay down an exceedingly broad-gauge railway
to the Kingdom of Hell. Few passengers travel by their route, and
its terminus on this side is miserably small; but his route is almost
universally patronised, its terminus is magnificent, and there is an
extraordinary rush for tickets.
According to the Christian scheme, the Devil tempted Adam and Eve from
their allegiance to God in the form of a serpent. He played the devil
with Eve, she played the devil with Adam, and together they have played
the Devil with the whole human race ever since.
But let any unbiassed person read the Genesaic story of the Fall, and he
will certainly discover no reference to the Devil A serpent is spoken
of as "more subtle than any beast of the field;" it is throughout
represented simply as a serpent; and nowhere is there the faintest
indication of its possessing any supernatural endowments.
The Story of the Fall contains clear relics of that Tree and Serpent
worship which in ancient times prevailed so extensively over the East.
The serpent was formerly regarded as the symbol of a beneficent God. In
Hindustan, says Maurice, "the veneration of the serpent is evident
in every page of their mythologic history, in which every fabulous
personage of note is represented as grasping or as environed with a
serpent." According to Lajard, the word which signifies "life" in the
greater part of the Semitic languages signifies also "a serpent" And
Jacob Bryant says that the word "Ab," which in Hebrew means Father, has
also the same meaning as the Egyptian "Ob," or "Aub," and signifies "a
serpent," thus etymologically uniting the two ideas. The Tree and
the Serpent were frequently associated, although they were sometimes
worshipped apart. The Aryan races of the Western world mostly worshipped
the Tree alone. The Scandinavians had their great ash "Yggdrasill,"
whose triple root reaches to the depths of the universe, while its
majestic stem overtops the heavens and its branches fill the world. The
Grecian oracles were delivered from the oak of Dodona, and the priests
set forth their decrees on its leaves. Nutpi or Neith, the goddess
of divine life, was by the Egyptians represented as seated among the
branches of the Tree of Life, in the paradise of Osiris. The "Hom," the
sacred tree of the Persians, is spoken of in the Zendavesta as the "Word
of Life," and, when consecrated, was partaken of as a sacrament. An oak
was the sacred tree of the ancient Druids of Britain. We inherit their
custom of gathering the sacred mistletoe at Yule-tide, while in our
Christmas Tree we have a remnant of the old Norse tree-worship. During
the Middle Ages the worship of trees was forbidden in France by the
ecclesiastical councils, and in England by the laws of Canute. A learned
antiquary remarks that "the English maypole decked with colored rags and
tinsel, and the merry morice-dancers (the gaily decorated May sweeps)
with the mysterious and now almost defunct personage, Jack-in-the-green,
are all but worn-out remnants of the adoration of gods in trees that
once were sacred in England."
Now the serpent and the tree were originally both symbolic of the
generative powers of nature, and they were interchangeable. Sometimes
one was employed, sometimes the other, and sometimes both. But in
that great religious reformation which took place in the faiths of the
ancient world about 600 years before the time of Christ, the serpent
was degraded, and made to stand as a symbol of Ahriman, the god of evil,
who, in the Persic religion, waged incessant war against Ormuzd, the god
of beneficence. The Persian myth of the Fall is thus rendered from the
Zendavesta by Kalisch:--
"The first couple, the parents of the human race, Meshia and Meshiane,
lived originally in purity and innocence. Perpetual happiness was
promised them by Ormuzd, the creator of every good gift, if they
persevered in their virtue. But an evil demon (Dev) was sent to them
by Ahriman, the representative of everything noxious and sinful. He
appeared unexpectedly in the form of a serpent, and gave them the fruit
of a wonderful tree, Hom, which imparted immortality and had the power
of restoring the dead to life. Thus evil inclinations entered their
hearts; all their moral excellence was destroyed. Ahriman himself
appeared wider the form of the same reptile, and completed the work of
seduction. They acknowledged him instead of Ormuzd as the creator of
everything good; and the consequence was they forfeited for ever the
eternal happiness for which they were destined."