PARADISE
No account of tree-worship would be complete without a chapter on that
tradition of a paradise or ideal garden of delight which is met with in
the mythology of almost all the nations of antiquity. The form of the
tradition varies. Paradise was sometimes represented (1) as the seat of
the gods; sometimes (2) as the first home of the parents of mankind; and
in other cases as (3) the abode of the spirits of the blessed.
Occasionally the different conceptions are combined; but the earlier
traditions all concur in connecting paradise with a miraculous tree or
trees, or with a more or less legendary mountain, from which it may be
plausibly inferred that they date back to the days of that primitive
cosmogony when the heavens were supposed to be upheld by a material
support. Thus in one, at least, of its aspects the tradition of paradise
must be regarded as an offshoot of the sacred tree.
It is not difficult to understand how the various conceptions arose. In
the first place, as the idea of a life or spirit more or less bound to
the tree became expanded into that of a powerful and wide-ranging god,
the idealising process demanded for him some home in heaven
corresponding to the tree which was his favourite habitat or embodiment
on earth. The sacred god-haunted tree, to which worship and gifts were
accorded below, suggested a mystical counterpart above, and the proper
home of deity was assumed to be that marvellous tree whose branches were
the sky and its fruit the sun and stars, or that lofty mountain whose
summit touched and supported the heavens.
In the second place, the belief, common in primitive mythology, that the
first parents were born from trees, presumably led to the idea that
these honoured ancestors, whose innocence was a part of their
idealisation, lived amongst trees and in a garden equally idealised.
The third conception of paradise naturally grew out of the earlier
conceptions, when there arose the belief in a future life of reward or
punishment; though it has been pointed out that the conception of heaven
under the form of a garden prevailed, _par excellence_, amongst settled
nations, living under kings of whose state a luxurious garden or
pleasaunce formed an essential part.[294]
Of paradise regarded as the abode of the gods, the Indian tradition of
the garden of Indra furnishes the best example. It was situated on Mount
Meru, on the confines of Cashmere, and contained the five wonderful
trees which sprang from the waters, after the churning of the cosmic
ocean by the gods and the demons. Under these trees the gods took their
ease, enjoying the ambrosia that fell from them. The garden, watered by
springs and rivulets, contained luminous flowers, fruits that conferred
immortality, and birds whose song even the gods loved to hear. The chief
of its five miraculous trees was the paridjata, the flower of which
preserved its freshness throughout the year, contained in itself every
scent and flavour, and gave happiness to whoever demanded it. It was,
moreover, a test of virtue, losing its splendour in the hands of the
sinful, and preserving it for him who followed duty. Each person found
in it his favourite colour and perfume. It served as a torch by night,
was a talisman against hunger, thirst, disease, and decrepitude, and
discoursed the sweetest and most varied music.[295] De Gubernatis quotes
several other instances from Indian literature of a legendary celestial
garden.[296]
[Illustration: Fig. 28.—From a Babylonian seal.(Goblet d’Alviella.)]
Of paradise, as the home of the first parents, the Pentateuch gives the
most circumstantial account, though it would appear from Genesis iii. 8
that the Biblical paradise was also regarded as a favourite resort of
Jehovah. The sacred books of the Parsis contain a very similar version.
The original human pair, Maschia and Maschiâna, sprang from a tree in
Heden, a delightful spot where grew hom or haoma, the marvellous tree of
life, whose fruit imparted vigour and immortality. The woman, at the
instance of Ahriman, the spirit of evil in the guise of a serpent, gave
her husband fruit to eat and so led to their ruin.[297] The tradition is
no doubt of very ancient origin, and is supposed to be represented on an
early Babylonian seal now in the British Museum. The tree stands in the
middle, from either side two human beings seated stretch forth their
hands for its fruit; the serpent stands erect behind one of them.[298]
On another cylinder in the Museum at the Hague there is represented a
garden with trees and birds; in the middle a palm, from which two
personages are plucking the fruit; a third with a fruit in his hand
seems to address them.[299]
The two mystical trees of the Biblical paradise find their common
counterpart in the sacred cedar of the Chaldaeans, which, besides being
essentially a tree of life, employed in magic rites to restore strength
and life to the body, was also “the revealer of the oracles of earth and
heaven.” Upon its core the name of Ea, the god of wisdom, was supposed
to be written,[300] just as the name of Ormuzd was first disclosed to
man by appearing carved in the wood of his sacred cypress. The tree of
life also finds a parallel in the divine soma, the giver of eternal
youth and immortality, a drink reserved only for the celestial gods or
the souls of the blessed.
The third conception of paradise, as the dwelling-place of the righteous
dead, is met with in the earliest Greek literature,[301] but there is no
definite trace of it amongst the Semitic nations until much later. It
did not, apparently, find recognition amongst the Jews until after the
exile, but references to it are frequent in their later apocalyptic
literature.[302] In the second book of Esdras, the Lord tells His people
that He will bring them out of the tombs, and that He has sanctified and
prepared for them “twelve trees, laden with divers fruits, and as many
fountains flowing with milk and honey, and seven mighty mountains,
whereupon there grow roses and lilies.”[303] “They shall have the tree
of life for an ointment of sweet savour; they shall neither labour nor
be weary.”[304]
In the Rabbinical writings, and still more in the Koran, this conception
of paradise is embroidered with many fanciful extravagances. The Talmud
even invents two paradises. “There is an upper paradise and a lower
paradise. And between them is fixed a pillar, by which they are joined
together, and which is called ‘The strength of the Hill of Sion.’ And by
this pillar on every Sabbath and festival the souls of the righteous
ascend from the lower to the upper paradise, and there enjoy the light
of the Divine Majesty till the end of the Sabbath or festival, when they
descend and return into the lower paradise.”[305]
This pillar is no doubt a survival of the old tradition of the
world-tree, a tradition still more obviously traceable in the Mahometan
belief. According to the Koran paradise is situated in the seventh
heaven. In the centre of it stands the marvellous tree called _Tooba_,
which is so large that a man mounted on the fleetest horse could not
ride round its branches in a hundred years. This tree not only affords
the most grateful shade over the whole extent of the Mussulman paradise,
but its boughs, laden with delicious fruits of a size and taste unknown
to mortals, bend themselves to be plucked at the wish of the happy
denizens of that blissful abode. The rivers of paradise take their rise
from the tree, flowing some with water, some with milk, and some with
honey; while others are filled with wine, the use of which is not
forbidden to the blessed.[306]
The confusion of thought apparent in these ancient traditions of
paradise was no doubt partly due to the fact that primitive man, with
his limited grasp of the possibilities of space, pictured heaven as not
far distant from him. It was a happier and a brighter earth, which
offered material rather than spiritual joys, and where, according to the
earliest conceptions, the spirits of the departed carried on the same
pursuits, reaped and sowed and hunted, as they had done while in life.
Thus the old Accadian dwellers by the Euphrates pictured the sky as the
counterpart of their own fertile plains, and the sun as a ploughman
yoking his oxen to the glittering plough, with which he tilled the
heavenly pasture.[307] The same idea is exemplified in the names of the
zodiacal constellations, which are of extremely ancient origin, the sign
we still know as Taurus being called by the Accadians “the bull who
guides the year.” So near was heaven that it was not impossible to climb
up to it, if you could but find the cosmic tree by which it was upheld.
The Khasias of India have a legend that the stars are men who have
climbed into heaven by a tree.[308] The Mbocobis of Paraguay still
believe that the souls of the dead go up “to the earth on high” by the
tree which joins us to heaven, and find an entrance by means of the
holes in the sky-roof through which the rain descends.[309] There is a
Chinese story of a king, who having heard of the glories of paradise,
set forth in search of it. After long wanderings he came to a mighty
column, which, he had been told, must be climbed in order to reach the
wished-for goal. But it was too slippery, and he was compelled to fall
back upon the alternative route, a steep and rugged mountain path. When
almost fainting with fatigue he was assisted by some friendly nymphs,
and at length arrived at a beautiful garden, with a wondrous tree in its
midst, and a fountain of immortality, from which four rivers, flowing to
the four corners of the earth, took their rise.[310]
The same notion of the similarity and propinquity of the heavenly field
is illustrated by the story of the Etruscan priest, who by his charms
brought down to earth a bit of heaven whereon to build his temple. The
Mahometans assert that the Caaba was lowered directly from the celestial
paradise exactly at the centre of the earth. And the Bedouins of Arabia
still believe that the jinni, living near the lowest heaven, can hear
the conversation of the angels, and so gain valuable information which
they are able to impart to men.[311]
Homer placed the seat of the gods and the court of Zeus upon the summit
of Olympus,[312] which was supposed to touch heaven, and piercing
through the region of rain and cloud to reach into the calm ether, where
reigned eternal spring. By later writers, however, Olympus was
represented as an unsubstantial region overhead, with the palace of Zeus
in its midst. The earlier view of Olympus exactly corresponds with the
Chaldaean “mount of the world,” the mountain of Arallu or Hades, where
the gods had their seat, and beneath which was the world of ghosts;[313]
also with the Mount of the Assembly spoken of by Isaiah, and with the
Scandinavian Asgard. But there is a clearer reminiscence of the elevated
paradise of Oriental legend in the beautiful gardens of the
world-supporting Atlas, with their delicious fruits, their golden
apples, and their protecting dragon. The third conception of paradise,
as the abode of the blessed, is also met with in Greek mythology in the
Elysian fields, or islands of the blessed, also placed by some
authorities in the neighbourhood of Mount Atlas. Here the souls of the
virtuous enjoyed perfect happiness, in bowers for ever green, and
amongst meadows watered by pleasant streams and bestarred with asphodel.
The air was pure and serene, the birds warbled in the groves, and the
inhabitants carried on such avocations as they had delighted in when on
earth. Later writers, however, substituted for these innocent pleasures
the voluptuous indulgences of the Mahometan paradise.
It was, no doubt, the ancient tradition of an elevated paradise, of a
paradise seated on the summit of a heaven-touching world-mountain, which
influenced Milton in his celebrated description, for there is nothing in
the Biblical account to suggest the excessive altitude that he so
deliberately accentuates. Paradise, according to the poet—
crowns with her enclosure green,
As with a rural mound, the champain head
Of a steep wilderness, ...
and overhead up-grew
Insuperable height of loftiest shade,
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm;
... Yet higher than their tops
The verdurous wall of paradise up-sprung.
* * * * *
And higher than that wall a circling row
Of goodliest trees, loaden with fairest fruit.[314]
As man’s conceptions of God have widened with a more extended knowledge
of His universe and a fuller realisation of his own history on the
earth, these older conceptions of paradise as the home of deity and the
abode of the blessed have decayed, until at the present day, however
much our theologians may differ in their descriptions of heaven, they
agree at least in this, that whatever it is, it is not a garden. But the
belief in the existence of an earthly paradise, which formed a part of
the traditions of so many ancient nations, lingered on for centuries
after “the Holy City” of the New Testament had displaced the Paradise of
the Old.
The features of this earthly paradise are for the most part similar to
those familiar to us in the Biblical description. It contained the
fountain of immortality, from which sprang the four rivers that flowed
to the four quarters of the earth. Purling brooks ran with the far-famed
ambrosia. The dwellers therein reposed on flowery lawns, lulled by the
melodious warblings of birds and feasting on delicious fruits. Whatever
there was of beautiful or sublime in nature there found its more perfect
counterpart. Absolute contentment and serenity and the delight that
never dies were the boons it offered. There man could cease from toil,
for nature, unassisted, produced all that was necessary for his
sustenance. This garden of delight was often sought after but seldom
found, except by semi-divine heroes divinely led. Hercules, directed by
Nereus, the sea-god, succeeded in attaining the gardens of the
Hesperides on the world-supporting Mount Atlas, the Pillar of Heaven, as
Herodotus calls it. He conquered the protecting dragon and secured the
golden sun-fruit from the central tree.[315] The Chaldaean Hercules,
Gilgames, referred to in a previous chapter, found a similar tree with
magic fruit upon it when he reached the gates of ocean.
This idea of an actual paradise upon earth has fascinated the mind of
man in all ages, and has been one of his most cherished and persistent
traditions. It was an idea that no doubt arose out of and corresponded
to his lifelong craving for a perfect peace and happiness which he never
found in the world he knew, and which he has at length realised to be
incompatible with his own organisation. It has taken him centuries to
discover that if there is no earthly paradise it is he himself and not
the world that is at fault. But the tradition was slow to die, and there
are probably people who still believe, as Sir John Maundeville believed
in the fourteenth century, that the Garden of Eden exists somewhere upon
the earth if it could only be found. This is what the famous traveller
says:—
“And beyond the land, and isles, and deserts of Prester John’s lordship,
in going straight towards the East, men find nothing but mountains and
great rocks; and there is the dark region, where no man may see, neither
by day nor night, as they of the country say. And that desert, and that
place of darkness, lasts from this coast unto Terrestrial Paradise,
where Adam, our first father, and Eve were put, who dwelt there but a
little while, and that is towards the east, at the beginning of the
earth.
“Of Paradise I cannot properly speak, for I was not there. It is far
beyond; and I repent not going there, but I was not worthy. But as I
have heard say of wise men beyond, I shall tell you with good-will.
Terrestrial Paradise, as wise men say, is the highest place of the
earth; and it is so high that it nearly touches the circle of the moon,
there as the moon makes her turn. For it is so high that the flood of
Noah might not come to it, that would have covered all the earth of the
world all about, and above and beneath, except Paradise. And this
Paradise is enclosed all about with a wall, and men know not whereof it
is; for the wall is covered all over with moss, as it seems; and it
seems not that the wall is natural stone. And that wall stretches from
the south to the north; and it has but one entry, which is closed with
burning fire, so that no man that is mortal dare enter. And in the
highest place of Paradise, exactly in the middle, is a well that casts
out four streams, which run by divers lands, of which the first is
called Pison or Ganges, that runs through India or Emlak, in which river
are many precious stones, and much lignum aloës, and much sand of gold.
And the other river is called Nile or Gyson, which goes through
Ethiopia, and after through Egypt. And the other is called Tigris, which
runs by Assyria and by Armenia the Great. And the other is called
Euphrates, which runs through Media, Armenia, and Persia. And men there
beyond say that all the sweet waters of the world, above and beneath,
take their beginning from the well of Paradise; and out of that well all
waters come and go.”[316]
The paradise in the existence of which the great traveller so firmly
believed is represented in a thirteenth-century map as a circular island
lying to the east of India, and the cartographer has not forgotten to
introduce even the gate from which our first parents were expelled.
A fourteenth-century Icelandic saga describes a voyage undertaken by a
prince and his chosen friend in search of the Deathless Land. They first
went to Constantinople to consult the Emperor, and were told that the
earthly paradise was slightly to the south of India. Arrived in that
country they continued the journey on horseback, and came at last to a
dense forest, the gloom of which was so great through the interlacing of
the boughs that even by day the stars could be seen. Emerging from it
they saw, across a strait, a beautiful land, which was unmistakably
paradise. The strait was crossed by a stone bridge guarded by a dragon.
The prince, in no ways deterred, walked deliberately sword in hand
against the dragon, and the next moment, to his infinite surprise and
delight, he found himself in paradise. Here he encountered all the joys
heart could desire, and exhausted with delight he fell asleep. In his
dreams his guardian angel appeared to him and promised to lead him home,
but to come for him again and take him away for ever at the expiration
of the tenth year.[317]
Many other mediaeval stories could be quoted, in which the traveller
claims to have found paradise. It was a favourite subject with the court
minstrels, proving that even the envied dwellers around a throne are not
less open than other men to the fascinating dream of a still more
perfect happiness.
Plato’s story of the lost Atlantis, supposed to have been related to
Solon when in Egypt, also belongs to the class of paradise legends. It
was situated in the Atlantic, in the neighbourhood of the Pillars of
Hercules. Larger than Libya and Asia together, it was the seat of a
great and wonderful empire, the subjects of which, after many conquests,
set out to subdue Hellas, but were defeated by the Athenians. Shortly
afterwards there arose violent earthquakes and floods, and in a single
day and night the island disappeared beneath the sea. All this happened
9000 years before the time of Plato.[318] According to other accounts,
when the gods distributed the whole earth amongst themselves Atlantis
fell to the lot of Poseidon, and the children he had by Cleito, a
mortal, ruled over the surrounding country. The eldest, Atlas, gave his
name to the island and to the Atlantic Ocean. This sacred land brought
forth in abundance the most beautiful and delicious fruits, and
magnificent buildings were constructed from the minerals and fragrant
woods of the place, notably a holy temple dedicated to Poseidon and
Cleito, which was protected by an enclosure of gold. A wealth of
fountains and hot and cold springs supplied luxurious baths. The
government was humane and just, and the people took their due share in
it. So long as the divine nature lasted in them they were obedient to
the laws and well affected to the gods, their kinsmen, evincing
gentleness and wisdom in the various chances of life and in their
intercourse with each other, and setting more value on virtue than on
wealth and luxury. But in the end, as the divine part in them died away,
they fell from virtue, and they and their island were submerged for ever
beneath the waves.
This legend, which would appear to combine with the idea of an earthly
paradise another tradition equally familiar to antiquity, that of a
retributory deluge, survived into the Middle Ages, and became blended
with the legends of the Celtic Church. For the Atlantic paradise is
distinctly reproduced in that legendary Isle of Avalon,[319] which St.
Brandan, an Irish saint of the sixth century, was said to have found in
the course of a seven years’ voyage; the isle—
Where falls not hail or rain or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly, but it lies
Deep-meadowed, happy, fair, with orchard lawns
And bowery hollows.
Columbus, in his third voyage, came upon a spot, the site of which
corresponded with the description given of the earthly paradise by “holy
and wise theologians.” But he hesitated to _ascend_ thither and assure
himself of the correctness of his conclusion, as no one could succeed in
such an undertaking without the divine permission.[320]
The Japanese have a legend of an Island of Eternal Youth, which exists
beyond the horizon in the shadowy unknown. Some fortunate observers have
from time to time seen a wondrous tree rising high above the waves. It
is the tree which has stood for all ages on the loftiest peak of Fusan,
the Mountain of Immortality. The island has the traditional
characteristics of the earthly paradise,—endless spring, airs ever
sweet, unclouded skies, unfading flowers, birds that sing of love and
joy, trees whose celestial dews carry with them the secret of eternity.
Sorrow, pain, and death are unknown, and the elect of the gods, who
people that delightful spot, fill their days with music and laughter and
song, knowing nothing of the flight of time. The miracle of the spring
in other lands is due to the whisper of the spirit of the island.[321]
This Japanese legend preserves the intimate connection between paradise
and the cosmic tree, which is often found to have dropped out of other
versions of the tradition. There can be no doubt, however, that
originally the mystical tree was the essential feature of paradise, and
the garden was merely its precinct or setting—one of the many
conceptions which grew up around the central idea of the cosmic tree.
Each nation, according to its stage of culture or its prevailing habit
of thought, emphasised one feature of it. The monster tree which,
according to primitive cosmogony, was believed to support the universe
by material branches, became in the minds of more cultivated races the
central tree of a dimly-realised paradise, and eventually the symbol of
an abstract idea. The intellectual Buddhist saw in it the emblem of
knowledge; the Persian thought of it as the tree of immortality; the
Hebrew, filled with the idea of man’s frailty and with the longing to
explain it, made it the tree of temptation.[322]
But in all these various conceptions we find a central idea, derived no
doubt from an antecedent and universal tree-worship, an idea which
places a tree at the root of all philosophy, refers all phenomena to the
existence of a central tree, serviceable to man here or hereafter, and
concentrating upon itself the reverent devotion which had outgrown its
earthly counterpart.
There are many facts to prove the importance attached in ancient times
to this conception of a glorified tree. Amongst the gorgeous decorations
of the palaces of Eastern kings a symbolical representation of the tree
of paradise was frequently found.
Tall as the cedar of the mountain, here
Rose the gold branches, hung with emerald leaves,
Blossomed with pearls, and rich with ruby fruit.
Sir John Maundeville describes one which he saw in the palace of the
Chan of Cathay. “It is a vine made of fine gold, which spreads all about
the hall, and it has many clusters of grapes, some white, some green,
some yellow, some red, and some black, all of precious stones; the white
are of crystal, beryl, and iris; the yellow of topazes; the red of
rubies, grenaz, and alabraundines; the green of emeralds and perydoz and
of chrysolites; and the black of onyx and garnets. And they are all so
properly made that it appears a real vine, bearing natural grapes.”[323]
According to an Arab writer, quoted by Gibbon,[324] there existed in the
magnificent palace of the Caliph of Bagdad, in 917 A.D., amongst other
spectacles of rare and stupendous luxury, a tree of gold and silver,
spreading into eighteen large branches, on which and on the lesser
boughs sat a variety of birds made of the same precious metals. While
the machinery effected spontaneous motions the several birds warbled
their natural harmony. The intention was, no doubt, to represent the
traditional luxuriance of paradise, and a similar motive is met with in
Eastern design even in the present day.
The tradition of a king who built a false paradise, like Sheddad in
Southey’s _Thalaba_, seems always to have been current in Western Asia.
There is in the British Museum a sculpture from Koyunjik representing a
palace, or may be a temple, constructed in imitation of a paradise. The
artificial hill, representing the world-mountain on which it stands, is
planted with trees and flowers, and watered by a stream that issues from
a hanging garden.