_SOURCES OF HEBREW MYTHOLOGY._
§ 1. If it is now established that we are justified in speaking of a
Hebrew Mythology, in the same sense as of the mythologies of Indians,
Hellenes, Germans, &c., then the question naturally arises, Can we come
upon the track of those forms of expression and those figures which
generally make up the elements of the Hebrew Myth; and Are these
elements when found recognisable as elements of myths, i.e. Are they
expressions and stories in which the ancient Hebrew, standing on the
myth-creating stage of his intellectual development, spoke of the
operations and changes of Nature? That in the abstract he was as capable
as the Aryan on the same stage of development of speaking myths, we have
admitted in assuming the _universality_ of the formation of myths; and
of what those expressions exactly consist, and what are the mythical
figures which he formed, it will be the business of a subsequent chapter
to exhibit.
In this chapter our task will be limited to the discovery of the sources
which we have to estimate by the method of Comparative Mythology, in
order to discern the various expressions and figures of the Hebrew myth.
Now both the incitement to the formation of myths and the course of
development through which they pass before they are noted down in a
literary age and then stiffen and undergo no further change, are based
on psychological operations, the laws of which are not governed by
categories of race and ethnology. It is therefore obvious, that for the
understanding of the Hebrew myths we must betake ourselves to the very
same class of sources which the mythologist finds fruitful on Aryan
territory. Fortunately such sources are open to us on Hebrew ground
also. They have, indeed, a less copious stream than those of Aryan
mythology, but yet suffice to give us a picture of what the ancient
Hebrew on the mythic stage thought and felt, and how he found expression
in language for these thoughts and feelings. It is true, this
investigation cannot be separated from another closely connected with
it—what method we must employ to arrive at the germ of the myth hidden
in these sources. But for the present we must still put off this second
question, and content ourselves with the search for the sources of
mythical matter. It will, however, not be always possible to avoid an
indication of the method; and this is the case now with the first of the
sources which we have to bring forward.
§ 2. _a._) We shall have to speak again further on of the question, What
factors in the minds of the Hebrew people produced the conception of
those _Patriarchs_, whose destinies form the most illustrious portion of
their national historic writing? It will then become clear that this
Patriarchal character represents only a later historical stratum of
mythical development, produced by those very factors. Originally the
names of the Patriarchs and the actions which are told of them signified
nothing historical, but only something on the domain of Nature. The
names are appellations of physical phenomena, and the actions are
actions of Nature. For surely we must at the outset come to a clear
understanding on the question, What is the origin of persons like Abram,
Sarah, Jacob and the rest, who fill the Hebrew Patriarchal history?
whence, how, and by what psychological law did they enter into the mind
of the primitive Hebrews? The facile assumption that these persons and
the actions with which they are concerned are mere _Fiction_ with no
external foundation, is so cheap and meaningless a way of getting over
the difficulties which their existence in poetry presents to the
investigator, that it as impossible to adopt it as to admit the opposite
equally arbitrary opinion, which makes them historical in the same sense
as Goethe or Frederick the Great. Certainly they are fictions, if by
that we mean that no historical persons correspond to them as human
individuals; but by no means in the sense that their origin, or rather
the conception of them, has no other foundation but the fancy of the
poet or writer. In this sense they have actual realities corresponding
to them—the events and operations of Nature, which are the main-springs
of mythical language. And it is not conceivable that the oldest
utterances of the human mind should have begun from anything else but
from the sensations which the operations of Nature aroused in their
breasts. As soon as they perceived these, occasion for myths was
present; and the myths show how they became fully conscious of the
operations of Nature.
The Patriarchal stories are therefore an important source for the
knowledge of myths. If we loosen stratum after stratum which has been
formed through the agency of psychological and historical factors over
the primitive form of the myth, and have at length penetrated back to
the stage at which many of the mythical appellations, through the disuse
of multifarious synonymous terms, were individualised and personified,
then it is easy to pick the primitive germ, the original mythic
elements, out of the shell in which they had been encased. Hence it
appears that the most fruitful field for mythological investigation on
Hebrew territory is the Book of GENESIS, the greater part of which
brings together the stories which the Hebrew people connected with the
names of the Patriarchs.
§ 3. _b._) The Patriarchal legends, in such fulness and artistic finish
as the remains of old Hebrew literature have preserved for us, are a
distinguishing characteristic of this literature. Other nations have
failed to transform their myths into such a wealth of reports about
their first progenitors. What meagre accounts the Hellenes give of their
national ancestors, in comparison with this rich and varied Patriarchal
history! A special peculiarity of the historical development of the
Hebrew people was active here, bringing the _national_ idea into the
foreground, and exerting its influence in this direction on the
transformation of the primitive mythological materials.[72] But instead
of this, other nations, among whom our above-named example, the richly
endowed Hellenes, are to be reckoned, have chosen rather to transform
the figures of their myths into Gods and godborn Heroes.
The figures of Gods, which were developed out of Hebrew myths, very
early retired into the background. It was partly the Canaanite influence
to which the Hebrew people very early succumbed, and partly the
progressing monotheistic tendency, that allowed no theology consistently
developed out of mythology to maintain itself for any length of time. Of
Heroes, however, there is no want in the memory of the Hebrews. In that
region as well as elsewhere, the Heroes had originally borne a different
meaning and belonged to mythology; and their heroic character is, on the
Hebrew as well as on the Aryan domain, secondary, produced by the
psychological and linguistic process which caused the natural meaning of
mythological figures to vanish from the mind.
Now although these Heroes are originally gigantic persons bound to no
definite place or time, yet they are gradually condensed into
individuals and regarded as more and more concrete and definite. What is
told of them puts off its generality and indefiniteness. They are
conceived as belonging to certain places where their heroic deeds were
performed—in other words, the legends of Heroes are localised. Their
activity is assigned to a definite time, they are inserted in a
chronological frame, in which they take up a definite position as to
time. What more natural localisation of the activity of the Heroes could
there be than to imagine them living in the same geographical districts
as those who tell of them? The localisation of heroic legends is always
enlisted in the service of patriotic feeling. Herakles and Theseus are
_Greek_ patriots, heroic benefactors of the Grecian people. The
determination of the time when they lived was influenced mainly by the
endeavour, natural to every civilised nation, to gain a clear,
comprehensive, and continuous picture of its own history. But truly
historical memory does not generally go far enough back to explain with
proper fulness the entire past doings of a nation. The historical
beginnings of a people are lost in the mist of indefiniteness and
uncertainty. What is easier than to fill up this obscure period of
history by telling of the doings of the Heroes? Why, the human temper in
its pessimistic mood is always inclined to fancy the very oldest age
peopled with men of gigantic proportions of both body and mind, in
comparison with whom the enervate present generation is a mere shadow.
So we find the stories of Heroes always at the head of the national
history. The history of the Greek people begins with their heroic age;
and the obscure period of Hebrew history between the first entrance into
Canaan and the creation of the Monarchy, the so-called time of the
Judges, is likewise the frame which must hold the Hebrew heroic legends.
The stories of the Hebrew Heroes group themselves round the history of
this period. The second important source of knowledge of the materials
of the Hebrew mythology is accordingly the cycle of stories to be found
in the canonical Book of Judges. This is the mine of mythology, whose
treasures Professor Steinthal has brought to light with such critical
acuteness in his dissertation on the story of Samson,[73] which breaks
up entirely new ground. Here for the first
time the method and results of the modern science of mythology were
independently applied to the domain of Hebrew antiquity. It must be
called a happy accident that the mythical character of the Hebrew heroes
could be proved by so convincing an example as Shimshôn (Samson); for
even the wildest scepticism cannot doubt that this name is equivalent to
shemesh, ‘sun,’ and that this fact gives us an undeniable right to
maintain the _solar_ significance of the hero, and to see in his battles
the contest of the Sun against darkness and storms.
§ 4. _c._) But the Old Testament stories do not cease to be a source for
mythological investigation exactly where the traditions of Genesis and
the Book of Judges are succeeded by really historical accounts. For it
is an admitted fact that, as soon as ever the myths have lost their
original meaning by the personification of their figures, mythical
characteristics are not limited to their proper domain, but often
actually attach themselves to historical persons and historical actions.
Alexander the Great, for example, is a phenomenon whose historical
character could not be shaken by the very boldest criticism. Yet the
story even of Alexander’s acts and fortunes has been forced to bear some
characteristics of the Solar myth, traits which were originally peculiar
to the Sun-hero, as especially the journey into the realm of
darkness.[74] Accordingly, not every phenomenon in the traditional
characteristics of which we discover solar features is mythical, even
though, strictly speaking, it can scarcely be classed with history (as
e.g. William Tell). It is highly erroneous to speak, as is often done,
of myth and history as two opposites which exclude any third
possibility.
However, there are two points to which we ought to attend when
considering the attachment of mythic elements to historical phenomena.
First, it is usual, as we have just mentioned, to find one or another
mythical characteristic attached to historical phenomena, as we may
observe (to keep on specifically Hebrew ground) in the portraiture of
the character of David or of Elijah (see Chap. V. § 8). The residence of
the Hebrews in Egypt, and their exodus thence under the guidance and
training of an enthusiast for the freedom of his tribe, form a series of
strictly historical facts, which find confirmation even in the documents
of ancient Egypt. But the traditional narrative of these events,
elaborated by the Hebrew people, was involuntarily associated with
characteristics of that Solar myth which forms the oldest mental
activity of mankind in general. Thus, for example, the passage through
the sea by night is to be compared with the myth of the setting sun,
which travels all night through the sea, and rises again in the morning
on the opposite side. Similarly, we find attached to the picture of the
life of Moses, which the Biblical narrative presents with a theocratic
colouring, solar characteristics, indeed more specifically features of
the myth of Prometheus. These have been clearly exhibited by Steinthal
in his fine Treatise on the Prometheus-story, to which I will here only
refer without reproducing its contents.[75] Secondly, we must consider
the converse relation—that historical facts, the names of the agents of
which have not been preserved in the popular mind, may be attached to
mythical names. We can go back to the time of the Judges for an example
of this. It is evidently real history that we read of the embittered
contests waged by the Hebrews in that age against the Philistines and
other tribes of Canaan. Remembrance of these contests, in the absence of
historical names, helped itself out by the mythical appellations which,
after the individualising of mythical figures, had obtained significance
as personal names. In the first case the bearers of the names are
historical persons, and the features of the story belong to mythology;
in the second, history is wedded to mythical names. In both directions,
accordingly, the Hebrew history treated critically is a source for
mythological investigation.
§ 5. _d._) One of the most reliable, but at the same time most
hazardous, sources of Hebrew, as of Aryan, mythological investigation is
the _language_ itself, and above all, the appellations to which the myth
is attached. These appellations, which in the process of transformation
of the original meaning of the myth became personal names, are in their
proper original sense appellatives; and we have to find the appellative
signification in order to establish the mythological character. In this
investigation it is best to follow the method, the use of which in Aryan
mythology has brought such brilliant results to light. In many
appellations the appellative sense can be found without much difficulty,
being explicable from the language itself, in our case from the known
treasures of the Hebrew tongue. In others the known material of the
Hebrew language refuses its aid, and we must then take refuge in a
cautious employment of the group of allied languages, i.e. the Semitic
stock. In this connexion we must never leave out of sight the fact that
the treasury of Hebrew words which is contained in the books of the Old
Testament does not even approximately embrace the wealth of the ancient
Hebrew vocabulary which we are enabled to infer from this fraction. In
the proper names much ancient linguistic property is preserved which
occurs nowhere else. The discovery of the appellative signification of
mythological proper names consequently does an important service to
mythological investigation, by finding a tangible starting-point for the
determination of the mythical sense of the root-word in question. But it
does more: it also fills up gaps in the Hebrew lexicon, and rescues many
an old component part of that important language, which otherwise would
remain utterly unknown.
An example will make this clear, and show that linguistic investigation
and mythology have an equal share in the instruction to be derived from
such inquiries.
We often meet in Hebrew with the verb hishkîm, denoting ‘to perform some
occupation early in the morning’ (the occupation itself being determined
by a dependent verb), ὀρθρεύειν. It represents the so-called
_Hiphʿîl_-stem, which has regularly the sense of a factitive, but is not
unfrequently used to express the entrance into a certain time or place,
the doing of an act in certain conditions of time or place. In this case
the Hiphʿîl verb is always derived from the noun which describes this
place or time. Here the conditions of time concern us most. We say, for
instance, heʿerîbh with the sense ‘to enter on the evening,’ ‘to do
something in the evening;’ e.g. ‘the Philistine came near _morning and
evening_,’ hashkêm we-haʿarêbh (I Sam. XVII. 16). The last word is
derived from the noun ʿerebh, ‘evening.’ From the word shachar, which
denotes ‘the dawn,’ is formed at a late stage of the language hishchîr,
‘to do something at that time;’ and this Hiphʿîl form of shachar can
then appear beside that from ʿerebh exactly like hishkîm in an earlier
age.[76] Now of course this verb hishkîm must have a noun for its basis,
which would denote ‘morning.’ But no such is found in the known Hebrew
thesaurus, for the nominal form belonging to this root, shekhem, means
‘neck,’ and etymologists have given themselves much useless labour in
trying to find any tolerable connexion between the meaning of this noun
and hishkîm. The most bearable which they could give is that one who
rises early to go after his business loads his neck with labour.[77] But
any one may reply, Does one who does his work after dinner or in the
evening load his neck with no labour? Considering the relation in which
these Hiphʿîl-forms stand to the nouns from which they are derived, we
might almost _a priori_ assert that in the ancient language shekhem must
have denoted ‘morning’ also. And in this instance mythological inquiry
offers us the safest clue. The name _Shekhem_ [Shechem] figures in the
Hebrew myth as the ravisher of Dinah, Jacob’s daughter. Without
anticipating the analysis of this myth, which fits into the context of
one of the next chapters, we immediately recognise in the mythic name
_Shekhem_ the noun from which the verb hishkîm is derived. Thus the
mythical appellation refers to the early morning, the red glow, as the
ravisher of the sun; and the same amorous connexion is expressed in
various ways in the Aryan mythology also.
No one can deny that the consideration of the myth has here enriched the
knowledge of the old Hebrew vocabulary; and thus, even on Hebrew ground,
mythology and linguistic studies go hand in hand. This makes the
investigation of language one of the richest sources for the discovery
of the mythical ideas of early humanity.
§ 6. _e._) While the circle of thoughts which guide the prose style
moves on the level of the general principles current at the time of the
writer, poetical language and style, on the other hand, have a tendency
to adopt modes of expression produced in a long past age in accordance
with the ideas then prevalent. These modes of expression, when they
arose, corresponded accurately with the general ideas of the time, and
had the signification which the _literal sense_ yields; they were used
whenever occasion offered for their employment, and everyone understood
what was meant by them, for the thought would in that age never be
expressed otherwise. The poetical language of a later time preserves
such modes of expression even when their significance in the general
conception of things is lost, and the occurrences thereby indicated are
imagined in a different way altogether; the language then becomes
_figurative_, as it is called.[78] Thus the language of the Hebrew
poetry and of those writers who speak in a lofty style bordering on that
of poetry, and are called Prophets, preserves many of the modes of
expression derived from the ancient mythological ideas of the world.
Mythical material may consequently be found now and then here also.
When e.g. Isaiah says (XIV. 28), ‘I will sweep it with the besom of
destruction,’ this is what we call a poetic figure—destruction being
pictured as a broom that sweeps away from the surface of the earth those
who are to be destroyed. But from another side it is seen to be
something more and different from a mere poetical figure, since its
origin is due, not to an artistic idea of the speaker, but to an
old-world mythical conception here employed figuratively, a conception
which occurs in many cycles of mythology. For instance, the Maidens of
the Plague are represented with brooms in their hands, with which they
sweep before house-doors and bring death into the village.[79] But
Isaiah says again (XXVII. 1) that ‘Jahveh with his sore and great and
strong sword shall punish Leviathan the piercing serpent, even Leviathan
that crooked serpent, and he shall slay the dragon (tannîn) that is in
the sea;’ and Job (XXVI. 13), in his grand picture of the contest which
Jahveh wages against the tempest, and the defeat of the latter by the
omnipotence of Jahveh, says ‘By his breath the heavens are brightened;
his hand has pierced the flying serpent (nâchâsh bârîach)’; and the
prophet living in the Babylonian captivity addresses Jahveh in the
following words (Is. LI. 9): ‘Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of
Jahveh! awake, as in the ancient days, in the generations of old! Art
thou not it that didst kill the monster (rahabh), and wound the dragon
(tannîn?)’ &c.[80] In these expressions we observe that prophets and
poets employ the long outgrown and obsolete notions of the myth of the
battle of the Sun against the flying serpent (Lightning) and against the
recumbent or curved serpent (Rain)—the monsters which want to devour the
Sun, but which the Sun shoots down with his arrows (Rays) or wounds with
a volley of stones; or else of the myth of the battle of the Sun already
set against the monster that lies in wait at the bottom of the sea to
devour him (a myth which is also preserved in the story of Jonah), only
that the monotheistic mind substituted Jahveh for the Sun. Many prophets
frequently speak in a perfectly general way, without reference to a
definite historical event, of a passage through the sea. This is by no
means a reminiscence of the Passage of the Red Sea, as an event in the
primeval history of the Hebrew people, unless a pointed reference is
made to that; it is another application of an old mythical notion of the
course taken by the Sun-hero after sunset through the sea, so as to
shine again on the following morning on the opposite shore. Indeed, that
Hebrew story of the Exodus itself, as we have indicated, is only a myth
transformed into history by a process which we can follow, step by step,
in the history of the evolution of Mythology. This becomes very clear
when we examine the sequel of the above-quoted words of the anonymous
Prophet of the Captivity (Is. LI. 10): ‘Art not thou it which dryeth the
sea, the waters of the great deep; that maketh the depths of the sea a
way for the ransomed to pass over?’ What is pictured in this verse is in
the mind of the speaker an event of the same character as that referred
to in the preceding verse—the killing of the Rahabh and the wounding of
the Tannîn. The description of Canaan, too, as a land ‘flowing with milk
and honey,’ points back to the myth of a sun-land; for the myths call
the rays of the sun and moon ‘milk and honey,’ regarding the moon as a
bee[81] and the sun as a cow. In Excursus E we shall speak of the
mythological conception of rays of light as fluids. Palestine, which the
writer wished to pourtray as possessed of every blessing, thus receives
attributes which the myth gave to a place above the earth, whence the
blessings of light streamed down to it. It is noteworthy that in the
Çatapatha Brâhmaṇa the same mythic conception which is employed
poetically in Hebrew meets us tinged already with an eschatological
colour. This work (XI. 5. 6. 4) makes _milk and honey_ flow in the
abodes of the Blest.[82] We also see from this that the notion of a
‘poetical figure’ requires frequent limitation. Many apparently poetical
figures have their origin in an ancient mythical conception. Not
everything that has the look of a poetical or rhetorical figure is one.
Who would doubt, for instance, on a superficial glance, that such a
phrase as nâr al-ḥarb, ‘the fire of war,’ was a figure of poetry or
rhetoric? Yet it is not; it is not derived from what only exists in the
fancy of the speaker, but from something which has a concrete, objective
existence. We learn this from the Arabic commentary on the proverb Nâr
al-ḥarb asʿaru, ‘the fire of war is burning.’ The scholiast[83] says
‘When the ancient Arabs began a war, they used to light a fire, to serve
as a beacon for those eager for the fight.’ It is also said (of the
Jews): ‘As often as they light a fire for war, Allâh extinguishes
it.’[84] Thus the fire of war of which the ancient Arabs spoke was only
a material or natural one.
§ 7. _f._) The Hebrew mythic tradition is not contained exclusively in
the Old Testament. This canon, indeed, was very far from receiving all
the remains of the old myths that were current among the people in an
historical transformation. Much of it is contained in the tradition
which was not incorporated with the canon, especially in the so-called
Rabbinical _Agâdâ_, which contains many a treasure of as high an
antiquity as the mythological sources which we have named within the
canon. In the discovery of such elements in the Agâdâ circumspection and
cautious criticism are necessary, because the valuable portion is only
an excessively small fraction of the whole, and has to be picked out of
a preponderating mass of very different character. Still we must
acknowledge the Agâdâ as a source for the discovery of the old Hebrew
myths. It has indeed already been employed for this purpose, though not
always wisely. The learned Professor F.L.W. Schwartz has referred to
this source,[85] and Julius Braun goes even too far in his mythological
estimate of the Agâdâ, when he says without limitation,[86] ‘The
Rabbinical stories are anything but arbitrary inventions; they are
echoes of primeval memories only refused entrance into the Bible by the
compilers of the canon. If Rabbinical erudition sometimes makes
unfortunate attempts to confirm extrabiblical tradition by a Biblical
quotation, and to prove its existence in Biblical times by imagined
allusions, this is no proof that the whole tradition is only a
speculation derived from misunderstood Bible-words.’ But Braun makes a
very bad use of the Rabbinical tradition, and vies with the foolish
writer Nork in taking from right and left without selection or judgment
whatever he can find, not caring whether it is Veda or Bible, Homer or
the Fathers, cuneiform inscriptions or some obscure allegorical writer.
The Agâdâ in many places gives names to persons who are mentioned in the
Bible without name; and these names have frequently so antique a stamp,
that we cannot suppose them to be due to the capricious invention of the
Agadists.[87] I believe that when these names appear justified by
internal evidence (i.e. when they show themselves quite fitting to the
nature of the myth), they may be ancient and important for mythological
inquiry. Of course we must not be ruled by excessive optimism, nor ever
forget the freedom with which the Agadic fancy rules in its own
sphere.[88] The same may be said also of the identifications, of which
the Agadists are very fond, and of the genealogical statements, which,
though deserving little attention from the historical point of view, may
have their origin in an old myth. So e.g. the Targûm on I Sam. XVII. 4
calls Samson the father of Goliath.[89] Now Goliath is the giant whom
‘the reddish hero with fine face’ overcomes by throwing stones; in other
words, the Sun-hero throws stones at the monster of the storm. Thus the
myth may very well say that the Sun (Samson) is the father of this
hostile giant of the night, just as the Sun in various forms frequently
appears in the character of father or mother of the Night.
It is easily intelligible how difficult it must be to determine the
mythological value of every such statement; and we have consequently
made very scanty use of this source. It might be relatively safer to use
them when they speak not merely of names and genealogies, but of actual
stories. The Abram-story especially has preserved in its Agadic form
much matter from ancient myths, the valuation of which by B. Beer, in a
lucid compilation on this very portion of the Agâdâ,[90] is easily
accessible. So e.g. the battle of Abram against Nimrod, which the
myth-investigator must take as the contest between the Nightly heaven
and the Sun, is known only from the Agâdâ; the Scripture says not a word
of it. For the solar character of Nimrod, which is however independently
clear from the Biblical statements, the Agâdâ has again preserved a
valuable datum, viz. that 365 kings (equal to the days of the solar
year) appear ministering to him.[91] This is the same conception of the
myth as that Enoch, of whom again the solar event of the Ascension is
preserved only in tradition, lived 365 years; or that Helios had herds
of 350 cattle (7 herds of 50 each); and that in the Veda the Sun-god is
blessed with 720 twin children, i.e. 360 days and nights,[92] and that
his chariot is drawn by seven horses, i.e. the seven days of the
week.[93]
The Agâdâ, again, has preserved the following mythical expression, which
Professor Schwartz interprets in this sense:[94] ‘Abraham was in
possession of a precious stone which he wore round his neck all his
life; when he died, God took the stone and hung it on the Sun.’[95] As
has been fully proved with regard to Aryan mythology, especially by
Schwartz and Kuhn, the myth calls the sunshine and other luminous bodies
stones in general, or more specifically precious stones.[96] By night,
as long as Abraham (the nightly heaven) lives, he bears the precious
stone himself; when the night dies, God takes this stone (the moonlight)
and hangs it on the sun.
How cautiously we must proceed in the mythological application of the
Agâdâ, is obvious to all who know the nature and origin of the Agâdâ and
the Agadic collections. I will adduce one other example to show how
easily one might be led astray by yielding too trustingly and
unconditionally to the temptation to employ this source in the
interpretation of myths.
In the course of our investigations, it will become certain that Jacob
belongs to the series of mythical figures which are connected with the
nightly heaven. How easily would this conception be disturbed, if we
were to accord to all the Agâdâ an absolute voice among the sources of
Hebrew mythical investigation! For there it is said in reference to Gen.
XXVIII. 11: ‘He (Jacob) reached that place and passed the night there,
for _the sun was come_ (kî bhâ hash-shemesh), i.e. had set.’ On this the
Agadist Chaggî of Sephoris remarks, 'This sentence indicates that Jacob,
when he was in Bethel, heard the welcoming voices of the angels: "The
Sun is come, the Sun is come," i.e. Jacob himself. Many years later,
when Jacob’s son Joseph told his father the dream in which an allusion
is made to Jacob as if he were the Sun (XXXVII. 9, 10), Jacob thought to
himself, ‘Who has informed my son that my name is Sun?’[97]
I must point out one other peculiarity in this part of the subject.
Sometimes the Agadists utilise mythological elements, by supplementing
the old mythic tradition with something added by themselves, _based on
some one of their hermeneutic principles_, but which could not possibly
be also a portion of the old myth. An example will elucidate this. We
will not lay down dogmatically, nor on the other hand dispute the
possibility, that the name Bileʿâm _Balaam_ is mythical. It signifies
‘the Devourer,’ and has consequently been identified for centuries with
the Arabic Loḳmân, which has the same meaning.[98] Accordingly Balaam
would originally have been a name of the monster which devours the sun.
It is not uncommon in mythology to find wisdom, cunning and prudence
attributed to the powers hostile to the sun. Hence the serpent appears
in the myth endowed with wisdom. This justifies Balaam’s character as
sage and prophet; the serpent delivers oracles, or is οἰωνός.[99] Balaam
is son of Beʿôr, or ‘the Shining’—a mythical expression which often
occurs when the darkness is described as springing from the daylight;
and the Agâdâ may be using mythic elements in identifying this Beʿôr
with Lâbhân ‘the White.’[100] So this myth, like many others, would then
have been _nationalised_ by the influence of factors, which will be
fully described in the Seventh Chapter. The Devourer of the Sun became a
Devourer of the Hebrew people, just as the Sun-hero became the Hebrew
national hero. Personations of the storms are often exhibited in
mythology as lame and limping.[101] This feature, which is not ascribed
to Balaam in the Bible, is found in the Agâdâ, which says, Bileʿâm
chiggêr beraglô achath hâyâ, ‘Balaam was lame of one foot.’ So far all
is regular. But then follows, Shimshôn chiggêr bishtê raglâw hâyâ,
‘Samson was lame of both feet’[102]—a feature which does not suit the
Sun-hero. We must consider that this latter is an inference drawn by the
Agâdâ in virtue of one of its hermeneutic principles, thus: Balaam’s
lameness is attached to the word shephî, ‘hill, high place,’ Num. XXIII.
3; the word shephîphôn, ‘serpent,’ Gen. XLIX. 17 (in the declaration
concerning Dan, which the Agadists take as referring to Samson the
Danite), must according to the Agadists’ hermeneutics express by its
form a doubling of the notion conveyed by shephî.[103]
Thus only what is said about Balaam could possibly belong to the old
myth; what is said about Samson is late Agadic induction, which has no
importance whatever for mythology.
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Footnote 72:
We shall treat of this in the Third Section of Chapter VIII.
Footnote 73:
Translated and given as an Appendix to this volume.—TR.
Footnote 74:
How readily Alexander’s history was combined with the Solar myth is
best proved by the fact that Arabian tradition gives Alexander a
Sun-name, the variously interpreted Ḏû-l-karnein = the Horned, i.e.
the Beaming.
Footnote 75:
Translated and given as an Appendix to this volume.—TR.
Footnote 76:
_Wayyiḳrâ rabbâ_, sect. XIX.: hishchîr we-heʿerîbh.
Footnote 77:
See Gesenius, _Thesaurus_, p. 1406. _b._
Footnote 78:
See Hermann Cohen’s dissertation, _Die dichterische Phantasie und der
Mechanismus des Bewusstseins_, in the _Zeitschrift für
Völkerpsychologie_, &c. 1869, VI. 239 _et seq._
Footnote 79:
On the German legends in which this idea occurs see Henne-Am-Rhyn,
_Die deutsche Volkssage_, Leipzig 1874, p. 268 _et seq._
Footnote 80:
See Ps. LXXIV. 13–14; LXXXIV. 11. There is nothing to justify those
interpreters who, caring nothing for the remains of ancient myths,
always wish to understand by _Rahabh_ and _Tannîn_ the kingdom of
Egypt.
Footnote 81:
Angelo de Gubernatis, _Zoological Mythology_, II. 217. On the meaning
of milk and honey in the Hebrew myth, Steinthal has written
exhaustively in his Treatise on the Story of Samson, given in the
Appendix.
Footnote 82:
See Weber in the _Zeitschrift der D. M. G._, 1855, IX. 238.
Footnote 83:
Al-Meydânî, _Majmaʿ al-amthâl_, II. 203.
Footnote 84:
_Korân_, Sûr. V. v. 69.
Footnote 85:
_Sonne, Mond und Sterne_ [i.e. Bd. I. of _Die poetischen
Naturanschauungen_, &c.], p. 4.
Footnote 86:
_Die Naturgeschichte der Sage_, I. 127.
Footnote 87:
See Excursus A.
Footnote 88:
Such names have often planted themselves firmly in popular tradition,
and are accordingly mentioned in various quarters with perfect
uniformity. So e.g. Ιαννῆς and Ιαμβρῆς, who appear both in Rabbinical
writings and in 2 Tim. III. 8 (see Jablonski, _Opuscula_, ed. Te
Water, II. 23).
Footnote 89:
See Wilhelm Bacher’s treatise, _Kritische Untersuchungen zum
Prophetentargûm_ (_Zeitschrift der D. M. G._ 1874, XXVIII. 7).
Footnote 90:
_Leben Abraham’s nach Auffassung der jüdischen Sage_, Leipzig 1859.
Another good compilation is that of Hamburger, _Geist der Hagada_,
Leipzig 1857, I. 39–50.
Footnote 91:
_Bêth ham-midrâsh: Sammlung kleiner Midrashim und vermischter
Abhandlungen aus der jüdischen Literatur_, ed. Ad. Jellinck, Vienna
1873, V. 40.
Footnote 92:
Max Müller, _Essays_ [German translation of _Chips_], II. 147; not in
the English.
Footnote 93:
Rigveda, L. 8; CCCXCIX. 9.
Footnote 94:
_Sonne, Mond und Sterne_, p. 4.
Footnote 95:
Bab. Bâbhâ bathrâ, fol. 16. _b._
Footnote 96:
See Kuhn, _Ueber Entwickelungsstufen der Mythenbildeng (Abhandl. der
kön. Akad. d. W._ 1873, Berlin 1874), p. 144.
Footnote 97:
Berêshîth rabbâ, sect. 68.
Footnote 98:
See on the other side Ewald, _History of Israel_ (2nd or 3rd ed.), II.
214.
Footnote 99:
Welcker, _Griechische Götterlehre_, Gottingen 1857, I. 66.
Footnote 100:
I find this identification, it is true, only in later books, Tânâ
de-bhê Elîyâ, c. 27; Sêder ʿôlâm, c. 21; see Halâkhôth gedôlôth
(hilkhôth haspêd). In the Sêder had-dôrôth, under the year 2189, Beor
is called son of Laban. On Laban see Chap. V. § 11. Besides the name
Loḳmân, which in signification corresponds with Bileʿâm (Balaam), we
find in the Preislamite genealogy of the Arabs, which in my opinion is
largely mixed up with mythical names, the chief Balʿâʾu, who is said
to have been a leper (Ibn Dureyd, _Kitâb al-ishtiḳâḳ_, p. 106. 8). It
should be observed that this is a man’s name with the grammatical form
of a feminine adjective.
Footnote 101:
See Chap V. § 10 end.
Footnote 102:
Sôṭâ, fol. 10. _a._
Footnote 103:
See Excursus B.
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