Chapter XXXVIII: Section VII: The Old Testament (1)

Before entering upon the comparative examination of the Hebrew Canon, it is necessary to say a few words of the extraordinary race who were its authors. There is probably no other book of which it may be said, with the same depth and fulness of meaning, that it is the work of a nation and the reflection of a nation's life. The history of the Bible and the history of the Jews are more intimately bound up together than is that of any other nation with that of any other book. During the period of their political existence as a separate people they wrote the Canon. During the long period of political annihilation which has succeeded, they have not ceased to write commentaries on the Canon. This one great production has filled the imaginations, has influenced the intellect, has fed the religious ardor of each succeeding generation of Jews. To name the canonical Scriptures, and the endless series of writings suggested by them or based upon them, would be almost to sum up the results of the literary activity of the Hebrew race.

Our first historical acquaintance with the Hebrews brings them before us as obtaining by conquest, and then inhabiting, that narrow strip of territory bordering the Mediterranean Sea which is known as Palestine. Their own legends, indeed, carry us back to a still earlier period, when they lived as slaves in Egypt; but on these, from the character of the narrative, very little reliance can be placed. The story, gradually becoming less and less mythical, tells us, what is probably true, that they overcame the native inhabitants of Palestine in war, and seized upon their land; that they then passed through an anarchial period, during which the centre of authority seems to have been lost, and the national unity was in no small danger of being destroyed, had not vigorous and able leaders interposed to save it; that, under the pressure of these circumstances, they adopted a monarchial constitution, by which the dangers of this time of anarchy were at least to a large extent averted, and the discordant elements brought into subjection to a common centre. Thus united, the Jewish monarchy rapidly attained a considerable height of splendor and of power. Surrounding nations fell under its sway, and it took rank as one of the great powers which divided Western Asia. But this glory was not to last long. The monarchy, broken up into two hostile parts by the folly of Rehoboam, lost alike its unity and its strength; and after a long series of kings, whom it is needless to enumerate, both its branches fell victims, at separate times, the one to Shalmaneser, king of the Assyrians, the other to Nebuchadnezzar, king of the Chaldees. The latter event, while it put an end to the very existence of the Jewish nation as an independent political power—for it was but a fitful independence which was recovered under the Asmoneans—marks an epoch which severs the history of the Jews into two periods, distinguished from one another by the completely different character borne by the people in each. It is customary, for theological purposes, to represent the religious development of the Jews as pervaded by a fundamental unity. They are supposed to have known and worshiped the true God from the beginning, to have been sharply marked off from the rest of the world by their strict monotheism, and to have been unfaithful to their inherited creed only when they refused to recognize Christ and his apostles as its authorized interpreters. Their own records tell a very different story. According to these, the religion of the Jews, like that of other nations, progressed, changed, improved, underwent purification and alteration, and was, in its earlier forms, not much unlike that of the surrounding heathens. Their leaders, indeed, and all those whom their Scriptures uphold as examples of excellence, worshiped a national God, Jehovah, whom they may have considered the only god who enjoyed actual existence and possessed actual power. But whether or not this were the case, he was, for all practical purposes, simply the tutelary deity of the Hebrews. In his name the conquerors of Palestine pillaged, murdered, and inflicted cruelties on the vanquished; to him they looked for aid in their belligerent undertakings; to him they offered the first fruits of victory. It was under his direct leadership that they professed to subdue the heathens, and to attain national security. The ark was his dwelling, and it could only bring destruction to the Philistines, who were not under the protection of its inmate. And when the Jews asked to be placed under the rule of a monarch, they were told by the mouthpiece of Jehovah that it was his divine government which they were rejecting. The morality of the chiefs who conducted the invasion and subjugation of Palestine was not one whit superior to that of their enemies, nor was the god on whose power they relied of an essentially higher nature than many other national or local divinities who were worshiped by other nations. They were the rude leaders of a rude people worshiping a rude deity. His character was such as we might expect the tutelary divinity of a tribe of wandering and unsettled Bedouins to be. Having to establish their right to a permanent home and an organized government by force of arms, it was only natural that they should represent their God as favoring the exploits of those arms, and even urging them on to the most ruthless exercise of the rights of conquerors. It was natural that even their most revolting acts should be placed under the especial patronage of this approving god. It was natural, too, that when the conquest had been at least in great part effected, while yet the anarchial and semi-savage condition of the victors continued (as it did more or less until after the accession of David), and internal strife took the place of external warfare, the national god should become to some extent a party-god; should favor one section against another, and even excite the ferocious passion of those to whose side he inclined. The god of Moses, of Joshua, and the Judges was thus a passionate, relentless, and cruel partisan. No doubt the facts were not precisely such as they are represented to us by the writers in the Old Testament, since in the internecine conflicts which occasionally broke forth we may assume that each side claimed for itself the approbation of Jehovah. But still the story of the Hebrew annals is clear enough to show us the semi-savage character of the people in these early days, and their utter failure to form that lofty conception of the deity with which they have been so largely credited by believers in the supernatural inspiration of their historical records.

The primitive conception entertained at this period, which corresponded with that generally found among uncivilized nations, was improved and elevated to some extent during the age of comparatively settled government which succeeded. As the Israelites advanced in the practice of the arts, in the possession of wealth, in the cultivation of the literary or musical attainments that refine domestic life, in the peaceful organization of a society that had become more industrial and less warlike, their idea of Jehovah underwent the modifications which these changes imply. The god of Samuel is widely different from the god of Isaiah or Jeremiah. Whether the popular notion had risen to the height attained by these prophets may indeed be doubted; but this too must have altered in order to make such prophets possible. Yet, in spite of the comparative improvement, there are abundant indications during the kingly period that the old Hebrew deity still retained the ferocious characteristics by which he had formerly been distinguished. Elijah's patron is gracious enough to his own adherents, but the attributes of mercy or gentleness towards human beings generally are undiscoverable in his character. And the deeds of blood which pious monarchs from time to time were guilty of in his honor, and which received his approbation, show that if the process of his civilization had begun, it was still very far from being completed.

But the special glory of the Jewish race is supposed to consist even more in the fact that this God, such as he was, stood alone, than in the excellence of the manner in which they conceived of his nature. The constancy of their monotheism, amid the polytheism of surrounding nations, has appeared to subsequent generations so marvelous as to require a revelation to account for it. The facts, however, as related to us by the Jews themselves, do not warrant the supposition that monotheism actually was the creed of the people until after the Captivity. It appears, indeed, that that form of belief was held by those who are depicted to us as the most eminent and the most virtuous among them, and it would seem that there was generally a considerable party who adhered to the worship of Jehovah, and at times succeeded in forcing it upon the nation at large. But that Jehovism was the authorized and established national religion, and that every other form and variety of faith was an authorized innovation, is a far wider conclusion than the facts will warrant us in drawing. This, no doubt, and nothing less than this, is the contention of the historical writers of the Old Testament; but even their own statements, made as they are under the influence of the strongest Jehovistic bias, point with tolerable clearness to a different conclusion. They inform us that while the most ancient leaders of the Israelites who conducted them to the promised land, the distinguished Judges who from time to time arose, and all the most virtuous kings, belonged to the religion of Jehovah, the people, notwithstanding these great examples, were continually guilty of relapses into idolatry of the most flagrant kind. This tendency manifested itself so early, and reappeared with such persistence during the whole history of the Israelites of both branches up to the destruction of their respective monarchies, that we cannot, consistently with the admitted facts, suppose that Jehovism had at any time taken very deep root in the mind of the people. They seem, on the contrary, to have been readily swayed to and fro by the example of the reigning monarch. Whether indeed they sincerely adopted monotheism under a monotheistic sovereign, may perhaps be doubted; but the emphatic denunciations of the Biblical writers leave us no room to question the perfect sincerity of their idolatry. All therefore that we can be justified in inferring from what they tell us is, that a succession of priests and prophets maintained the faith of Jehovah from age to age, and that from time to time a sovereign arose who favored their views, and did all in his power, sometimes by fair means and not unfrequently by foul, to advance the interests of the Jehovistic party. Indian history acquaints us with very similar fluctuations in the religion of a province, according as the priests of one or the other contending sect succeeded in obtaining influence over the mind of the reigning Rajah. But although we maintain that monotheism was not, previous to the captivity, the popular religion of the Jews, we need not go the length of asserting that there was no difference in their minds between Jehovah and the other deities whom they adopted from surrounding nations. Jehovah was unquestionably the national god, who was held to extend a peculiar protection over the Hebrew race. Nor does it follow that those who betook themselves to some idolatrous _cultus_ necessarily abandoned that of Jehovah. Both might well have been carried on together, and there is abundant evidence that the Jews of this period had much of that elasticity which characterizes polytheism, and makes it ever ready to add new members to its pantheon without discarding old favorites. So far as there was a national worship carried on by a national priesthood, Jehovah must have been its object. But we are not therefore compelled to imagine that the nation had adopted Jehovism in so solemn and binding a manner as to render its abandonment a gross violation of their fundamental institutions. No doubt, according to the Scriptural writers, it was a deliberate breach of the original constitution to forsake, even for a moment, the exclusive service of the national god for that of any other deity whatsoever. But the supernatural origin assigned by them to this original constitution throws a doubt on their assertions, while the facts they report serve to increase it. For while we learn that Jehovah was deserted by one generation after another in favor of more popular rivals, much to the indignation of his priests and prophets, we do not perceive any traces of a consciousness on the part of the idolaters that they were guilty of infidelity to fundamental and unchangeable laws. They rather appear to have acted in mere levity, and the repeated objurgations of the Jehovistic party would tend to the conclusion that the people were not aware of any binding obligation to adhere to the worship of this deity to the exclusion of that of every other. The efforts of the Jehovists may indeed show that _they_ believed such an obligation to exist: but not that their opponents were equally aware of it. Moreover, we are not without some more positive testimony which strongly favors this view of their mutual relations. Under the reign of the pious, and no doubt credulous, Josiah, a certain priest professed to have discovered a "book of the law" mysteriously hidden in the temple. Without discussing in this place what book this may have been, it is plain that it inculcated Jehovism under the penalty of curses similar to those found in Deuteronomy, and it is plain too that its contents caused the monarch a painful surprise, which expressed itself by his rending his clothes and sending a commission to "inquire of the Lord" "concerning the words of this book that is found." Now is it possible to suppose that the words of such a book as this could have inflicted on Josiah so great a shock, or have required the appointment of a special commission to inquire concerning them, if it had been a matter of familiar and general knowledge among the Jews that their forefathers had solemnly adopted Jehovism as the only lawful national creed, invoking upon themselves those very curses which the most devout of monarchs was now unable to hear without astonishment and alarm? And how are we to explain the production of this book by the priests as a new discovery? If it had been merely the re-discovery of a lost volume would the language of the narrative have been at all appropriate? Must not Josiah in that case have rejoiced at the restoration to Judah of so precious a treasure, however much he might have regretted the failure of the nation to observe its precepts? The difficulty of supposing such facts to have been forgotten is equally great. It would be scarcely possible to imagine that not only the people, but the priests, could at any period have lost all memory of the fact that they were bound, under the most terrible penalties, to adhere to the faith of Jehovah. At least the spiritual advisers of so religious a monarch must have been well aware that their own creed formed an essential part of the Jewish constitution; and we cannot doubt that they would carefully have impressed this fact on their willing pupil, not as a startling disclosure made only after he had been seventeen years on the throne and had attained the age of twenty-five, but as one of his earliest and most familiar lessons. In fact, this sudden discovery, in some secret recess of the temple, of a hitherto unknown volume, concerning whose claims to authority or antiquity the writers preserve a mysterious silence, rather suggests the notion of a Jehovistic _coup d'état_, prepared by the zeal of Hilkiah the priest and Shaphan the scribe. A long time had passed since the accession of the king. His favorable dispositions were well known. Since the eighth year of his reign at least he had been under the influence of the priests, and in the twelfth he had entered (no doubt under their directions) upon that career of persecuting violence which was usual with pious monarchs in Judea.[89] His mind was undoubtedly predisposed to receive with implicit confidence any statements they might make. Hence, if Hilkiah and his associates had conceived the idea of compiling, from materials at their command, a book which, while recapitulating some events in the ancient history of Israel, should represent those events in a light favorable to their designs, they could hardly have chosen a better moment for the execution of such a scheme. That they actually did this, it would be going beyond the evidence in our possession to assert. It may be that the book was an old one; and in any case, it is unnecessary to suppose that it was an original composition of Hilkiah's, palmed off upon the king as ancient. All that appears to me clearly to follow from the terms of the narrative is, that the law which this book contained (evidently the law of Jehovah) had not hitherto been regarded as the established law of the country, and that the production of this volume, in which its claims to that dignity were emphatically asserted, and its violation represented as entailing the most grevious curses, was one of the plans taken by the priestly party to procure for it the recognition of that supremacy which they declared it had actually enjoyed in the days of their forefathers. But although the history of Israel has been written by adherents of this party, and we are unfortunately precluded from checking their statements by any document recounting the same events from the point of view of their opponents, their records, biased as they are, clearly show us a nation whose favorite and ordinary creed was not monotheism; which was ever ready to adopt with fervor the idolatrous practices of its neighbors; and which was not converted to pure and exclusive monotheism till after the terrible lesson of the Captivity in Babylon.

This great event was turned to excellent account by the priests and prophets of Jehovah. Instead of regarding it as a natural consequence of the political relations of Judea with more powerful empires, they represented it as the fulfillment of the penalties threatened by Jehovah for infidelity towards himself. And as this view offered a plausible explanation of their unparalleled misfortunes, it was naturally accepted by many as the true solution of sufferings so difficult to reconcile with the protection supposed to be accorded by their national god. Under these circumstances a double process went on during their compulsory residence in heathendom. Great numbers, who were either not Jehovists, or whose Jehovism was but lukewarm, gradually adapted themselves to their situation among idolaters, and became at length indistinguishably fused, as the ten scribes had been, with the alien races. But a few remained faithful to their God. These few it was who formed the whole of the nation which, when return was possible, returned to their native soil. Those who were not inspired by a deep sense of the sanctity of their national religion; those to whom the restoration of their national rites was not the one object of overwhelming importance; those whose hopes of national restoration were of a temporal rather than a spiritual nature, had no sufficient motive to return to their native soil. Jerusalem could have no attractions for them which Babylon did not possess. Thus, by a natural process, the most ardent, the most spiritual, the most unbending monotheists were weeded out from the mass of the community, and it was they who accompanied Zerubbabel or Ezra on his sacred mission. Misfortune, which had not shaken their faith, had deepened and purified it. Not only were they Jehovists, but they were Jehovists of the sternest type. There was among them none of that admixture of levity, and none of that facile adaptability to foreign rites, which characterized the oldest Jews. From this time forward their monotheism has never been broken by a single relapse.

Thus the Captivity forms the turning-point in the character of the Jews; for, in fact, the nation which was conquered by Nebuchadnezzar was not the nation which, in the days of Kyros and Artaxerxes returned to re-colonize and rebuild Jerusalem. The conquered people belonged to a monarchy which, if it was now feeble and sunken, was directly descended from one which had been glorious and mighty, and which had aimed at preserving for Judea the status and dignity of an independent power. Under its influence the Jews had been mobile, idolatrous, deaf to the voice of Jehovistic prophets, neglectful of Jehovistic rites; desirous of conquest, and, when that was impossible, unwilling on political grounds to submit to foreign domination; rude if not semi-barbarous in morals, and distracted by the contention of rival religious parties. But this polity, of which the ruling motives were mainly political, was succeeded after the return of the exiles by a polity of which the ruling motives were exclusively religious. All were now adherents of Jehovah; all were zealous performers of the rites conceived to be his due.

This change must be borne in mind if we would understand Jewish history; for the same language is not applicable to the Jews before and after the Captivity, nor can we regard in the same light a struggling and feeble race upholding its unanimous faith in the midst of trials, and an independent nation in which a party, from time to time victorious, endeavors to impose that faith by force. We may without inconsistency censure the violence of the Jehovistic sectaries, and admire the courage of the Jehovistic people. But although there is much in this change that is good, it must be admitted that it has its bad side. While becoming more conscientious, more scrupulously true to its own principles, and more penetrated with a sense of religion, Judaism became at the same time more rigid, more formal, more ritualistic, and more unsocial. Ewald has remarked that the constitution established after the return from captivity is one that lays undue stress upon the exterior forms of religion, and may in time even become hostile to what is truly holy. As it claims to be in possession of something holy which temporal governments do not possess, it cannot submit to their dominion; hence, he observes, Israel could never become an independent nation again under this constitution.[90] Nor was this all. Even apart from its tendency to magnify external forms, which was perhaps not of its essence, the religion of Jehovah had inherent vices. The Jews, believing their god to be the only true one, and insisting above all on the supreme importance of preserving the purity of his _cultus_, were necessarily led to assume a haughty and exclusive attitude towards all other nations, which could not fail to provoke their hostility. This unloveable spirit was shown immediately after their return by their contumelious rejection of the Sâmaritan proposals to aid in building the temple—proposals which seem to have been made in good faith; by the Sabbatarian legislation of Nehemiah; and even more by the exclusively harsh measures taken by Ezra for the purification of the race. It was simply inevitable that all heathen nations who came in contact with them should hate a people who acted on such principles. Nor were the fears of the heathen altogether without foundation. When the Jews recovered a temporary independence under the Maccabees, their intolerance, now able to vent itself in acts of conquest, became a source of serious danger. Thus, John Hyrcanus destroyed the temple of the Sâmaritans (who also worshiped Jehovah) on Mount Gerizim, and the Jews actually commemorated the event by a semi-festival. Alexander Jannasus, too, carried on wars of conquest against his neighbors. In one of these he took the town of Gaza, and evinced the treatment to be expected from him by letting loose his army on the inhabitants and utterly destroying their city. It was no doubt their unsocial and proud behavior towards all who were not Jews that provoked the heathens to try their temper by so many insults directed to the sensitive point—their religion. Culpable as this was, it must be admitted that it was in some degree the excessive scrupulosity of the Jews in regard to things indifferent in themselves that exposed them to so much annoyance. Had they been content to permit the existence of Hellenic or Roman customs side by side with theirs, they might have been spared the miseries which they subsequently endured. But the Scriptures, from beginning to end, breathed a spirit of fierce and exclusive attachment to Jehovah; he was the only deity; all other objects of adoration were an abomination in his sight. Penetrated with this spirit, the Jews patiently submitted to the yoke of every succeeding authority—Chaldeans, Syrians, Egyptians, Romans—until the stranger presumed to tamper with the national religion. Then their resistance was fierce and obstinate. The great rebellion which broke out in the reign of Antiochus Epiphanes, under the leadership of Mattathias, was provoked by the attempt of that monarch to force Greek institutions on the Jewish people. The glorious dynasty of the Asmoneans were priests as well as kings, and the royal office, indeed, was only assumed by them in the generation after that in which they had borne the priestly office, and as a consequence of the authority derived therefrom. Under the semi-foreign family of the Herods, who supplanted the Asmoneans, and ruled under Roman patronage, as afterwards under the direct government of Rome, it was nothing but actual or suspected aggressions against the national faith that provoked the loudest murmurs or the most determined opposition. It was this faith which had upheld the Jews in their heroic revolt against Syrian innovations. It was this which inspired them to support every offshoot of the Asmonean family against the odious Herod. It was this which led them to entreat of Pompey that he would abstain from the violation of the temple; to implore Caligula, at the peril of their lives, not to force his statue upon them; to raise tumults under Cumanus, and finally to burst the bonds of their allegiance to Rome under Gessius Florus. It was this which sustained the war that followed upon that outbreak—a war in which even the unconquerable power of the Roman Empire quailed before the unrivaled skill and courage of this indomitable race; a war of which I do not hesitate to say that it is probably the most wonderful, the most heroic, and the most daring which an oppressed people has ever waged against its tyrants.

But against such discipline as that of Rome, and such generals as Vespasian and Titus, success, however brilliant, could be but momentary. The Jewish insurrection was quelled in blood, and the Jewish nationality was extinguished—never to revive. One more desperate effort was indeed made; once more the best legions and the best commanders of the Empire were put in requisition; once more the hopes of the people were inflamed, this time by the supposed appearance of the Messiah, only to be doomed again to a still more cruel disappointment. Jerusalem was razed to the ground; Aelia Capitolina took its place; and on the soil of Aelia Capitolina no Jew might presume to trespass. But if the trials imposed on the faith of this devoted race by the Romans were hard, they were still insignificant compared to those which it had to bear from the Christian nations who inherited from them the dominion of Europe. These nations considered the misfortunes of the Jews as proceeding from the divine vengeance on the crime they had committed against Christ; and lest this vengeance should fail to take effect, they made themselves its willing instruments. No injustice and no persecution could be too bad for those whom God himself so evidently hated. Besides, the Jews had a miserable habit of acquiring wealth; and it was convenient to those who did not share their ability or their industry to plunder them from time to time. But the Jewish race and the Jewish religion survived it all. Tormented, tortured, robbed, put to death, hunted from clime to clime; outcasts in every land, strangers in every refuge, the tenacity of their character was proof against every trial, and superior to every temptation. In this unequal combat of the strong against the weak, the synagogue has fairly beaten the Church, and has vindicated for itself that liberty which during centuries of suffering its enemy refused to grant. Eighteen hundred years have passed since the soldiers of Titus burned down the temple, laid Jerusalem in ashes, and scattered to the winds the remaining inhabitants of Judea; but the religion of the Jews is unshaken still; it stands unconquered and unconquerable, whether by the bloodthirsty fury of the legions of Rome, or by the still more bloodthirsty intolerance of the ministers of Christ.

SUBDIVISION I.—_The Historical Books._

It is scarcely necessary to say that no complete account of the contents of the Old Testament can be attempted here. To accomplish anything like a full description of its various parts, and to discuss the numerous critical questions that must arise in connection with such a description, would in itself require a large volume. In a treatise on comparative religion, anything of this kind would be out of place. It is mainly in its comparative aspect that we are concerned with the Bible. Hence many very interesting topics, such, for instance, as the age or authorship of the several books, must be passed over in silence. Tempting as it may be to turn aside to such inquiries, they have no immediate bearing on the subject in hand. Whatever may be the ultimate verdict of Biblical criticism respecting them, the conclusions here reached will remain unaffected. All that I can do is to assume without discussion the results obtained by the most eminent scholars, in so far as they appear to me likely to be permanent. That the Book of Genesis, for example, is not the work of a single writer, but that at least two hands may be distinguished in it; that the Song of Solomon is, as explained both by Renan and Ewald, a drama, and not an effusion of piety; that the latter part of Isaiah is not written by the same prophet who composed the former,—are conclusions of criticism which I venture to think may now be taken for granted and made the basis of further reasoning. At the same time I have taken for granted—not as certain, but as likely to be an approximation to the truth—the chronological arrangement of the prophets proposed by Ewald in his great work on that portion of Scripture. Further than this, I believe there are no assumptions of a critical character in the ensuing pages.

First, then, it is to be observed that the problems which occupied the writers of the Book of Genesis, and which in their own fashion they attempted to solve, were the same as those which in all ages have engaged the attention of thoughtful men, and which have been dealt with in many other theologies besides that of the Hebrews. The Hebrew solution may or may not be superior in simplicity or grandeur to the solutions of Parsees, Hindus, and others; but the attempt is the same in character, even if the execution be more successful. The authors of Genesis endeavor especially to account for:—

1. THE CREATION OF THE UNIVERSE.
2. THE ORIGIN OF MAN AND ANIMALS.
3. THE INTRODUCTION OF EVIL.
4. THE DIVERSITY OF LANGUAGES.

Although the fourth of these questions is, so far as I am aware, not a common subject of consideration in popular mythologies, the first three are the standard subjects of primitive theological speculation. Let us begin with the Creation.

One of the earliest inquiries that human beings address themselves to when they arrive at the stage of reflection is:—How did this world in which we find ourselves come into being? Out of what elements was it formed? Who made it, and in what way? A natural and obvious reply to such an inquiry is, that a Being of somewhat similar nature to their own, though larger and more powerful, took the materials of which the world is formed and moulded them, as a workman moulds the materials of his handicraft, into their present shape. The mental process gone through in reaching this conclusion is simply that of pursuing a familiar analogy in such a manner as to bring the unknown within the range of conceptions applicable to the known. The solution, as will be seen shortly, contrives to satisfy one-half of the problem only by leaving the other half out of consideration. This difficulty, however, does not seem to have occurred to the ancient Hebrew writers who propounded the following history of the Creation of the Universe:—

"In the beginning," they say, "God created the heavens and the earth. And the earth was desolate and waste, and darkness on the face of the abyss, and the Spirit of God hovering on the face of the waters. And God said: Let there be light, and there was light. And God saw the light that it was good, and God divided between the light and the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And it was Evening, and it was Morning: one day.

"And God said: Let there be a vault for separation of the waters, and let it divide between waters and waters." Hereupon he made the vault, and separated the waters above it from those below it. The vault he called Heavens. This was his second day's work. On the third, he separated the dry land from the sea, "and saw that it was good;" besides which he caused the earth to bring forth herbs and fruit-trees. "And God said: Let there be lights in the vault of the heavens to divide between the day and between the night, and let them be for signs and for times and for days and for years." Hereupon he made the sun for the day, the moon for the night, and the stars. "And God put them on the vault of the heavens to give light to the earth, and to rule by day and by night, and to separate between the light and the darkness; and God saw that it was good. And it was evening, and it was morning; the fourth day" (Gen. i. 1-19).

Let us pause a moment here before passing on to the next branch of the subject: the creation of animals and man. The author had two questions before him; how the materials of the universe came into being, and how, when in being, they assumed their present forms and relative positions. Of the first he says nothing, unless the first verse be taken to refer to it. But this can scarcely be; for the expression, "God made the heavens and the earth," cannot easily be supposed to refer to the original production of the matter out of which the heavens and the earth were subsequently made. Rather must we take it as a short heading, referring to the creation which is about to be described. And in any case, the manner in which there came to be anything at all out of which heavens and earth could be constructed is not considered. We are left apparently to suppose that matter is coeval with the Deity; for the author never faces the question of its origin, which is the real difficulty in all such cosmogonies as his, but hastens at once to the easier task of describing the separation and classification of materials already in existence.

Somewhat similar to the Hebrew legend, both in what it records and in what it omits, is the story of creation as told by the Quichés in America:—

"This is the first word and the first speech. There were neither men nor brutes, neither birds, fish, nor crabs, stick nor stone, valley nor mountain, stubble nor forest, nothing but the sky; the face of the land was hidden. There was naught but the silent sea and the sky. There was nothing joined, nor any sound, nor thing that stirred; neither any to do evil, nor to rumble in the heavens, nor a walker on foot; only the silent waters, only the pacified ocean, only it in its calm. Nothing was but stillness, and rest, and darkness, and the night; nothing but the Maker and Moulder, the Hurler, the Bird-Serpent" (M. N. W., p. 196.—Popol Vuh, p. 7).

Another cosmogony is derived from the Mixtecs, also aborigines of America:—

"In the year and in the day of clouds, before ever were either years or days, the world lay in darkness; all things were orderless, and a water covered the slime and the ooze that the earth then was" (M. N. W., p. 196).

Two winds are in this myth the agents employed to effect the subsidence of the waters, and the appearance of dry land. In another account, related by some other tribes, the muskrat is the instrument which divides the land from the waters. These myths, as Mr. Brinton, who has collected them, truly remarks, are "not of a construction, but a reconstruction only, and are in that respect altogether similar to the creative myth of the first chapter of Genesis."

In the Buddhistic history of the East Mongols, the creation of the world is made, as in Genesis, the starting point of the relation. But the creative forces in this mythology are apparently supposed to be inherent in primeval matter. Hence we have a Lucretian account of the movements of the several parts of the component mass without any consideration of the question how the impulse to these movements was originally given. "In the beginning there arose the external reservoir from three different masses of matter; namely, from the creative air, from the waving water, and from the firm, plastic earth. A strong wind from ten-quarters now brought about the blue atmosphere. A large cloud, pouring down continuous rain, formed the sea. Dry land arose by means of grains of dust collecting on the surface of the ocean, like cream on milk."[91]

Although the sacred writings of the Parsees contain no connected account of the creation, yet this void is fully supplied by traditions which have acquired a religious sanction, and have entered into the popular belief. Those traditions are found in the Bundehesh and the Shahnahmeh, works of high authority in the Parsee system. According to them, Ahura-Mazda, the good principle, induced his rival, Agra-Mainyus, the evil principle, to enter into a truce of nine thousand years, foreseeing that by means of this interval he would be able to subdue him in the end. Agra-Mainyus, having discovered his blunder, went to the darkest hell, and remained there three thousand years. Ahura-Mazda took advantage of this repose to create the material world. He produced the sky in forty-five days, the water in sixty, the earth in seventy-five, the trees in thirty, the cattle in eighty, and human beings in seventy-five; three hundred and sixty-five days were thus occupied with the business of creation. It will be observed that, though the time taken is longer, the order of production is the same in the Parsee as in the Hebrew legend. This fact tends to confirm the supposition, which will hereafter appear still more probable, of an intimate relation between the two.

Always prone to speculation, the Hindus were certain to find in the dark subject of creation abundant materials for their mystic theories. Various explanations are accordingly given in the Rig-Veda. Thus, the following account is found in the tenth Book:—

"Let us, in chanted hymns, with praise, declare the births of the gods,—any of us who in this latter age may behold them. Brâhmanaspati blew forth these births like a blacksmith. In the earliest age of the gods, the existent sprang from the non-existent: thereafter the regions sprang from Uttānapad. The earth sprang from Uttānapad, from the earth sprang the regions: Daksha sprang from Aditi, and Aditi from Daksha. Then the gods were born, and drew forth the sun, which was hidden in the ocean" (O. S. T., vol. v. p. 48.—Rig-Veda, x. 72).

With higher wisdom, another Vaidik Rishi declares it impossible to know the origin of the universe:—

"There was then neither nonentity nor entity: there was no atmosphere, nor sky above. What enveloped [all]? Where, in the receptacle of what, [was it contained]? Was it water, the profound abyss? Death was not then, nor immortality; there was no distinction of day or night. That One breathed calmly, self-supported; there was nothing different from, or above, it. In the beginning darkness existed, enveloped in darkness. All this was undistinguishable water. That One which lay void, and wrapped in nothingness, was developed by the power of fervor. Desire first arose in It, which was the primal germ of mind; [and which] sages, searching with their intellect, have discovered in their heart to be the bond which connects entity with nonentity. The ray [or cord] which stretched across these [worlds], was it below or was it above? There were there impregnating powers and mighty forces, a self-supporting principle beneath, and energy aloft. Who knows, who here can declare, whence has sprung, whence, this creation? The gods are subsequent to the development of this [universe]; who then knows whence it arose? From what this creation arose, and whether [any one] made it or not, he who in the highest heaven is its ruler, he verily knows, or even he does not know" (O. S. T., vol. v. p. 356.—Rig-Veda, x. 129).

A later narrative ascribes creation to the god Prajapati, who, it is said, having the desire to multiply himself, underwent the requisite austerities, and then produced earth, air, and heaven (A. B., vol. ii. p. 372).

We now return to Genesis, which proceeds to its second problem: the creation of living creatures and of man. This is solved in two distinct fashions by two different writers. The first relates that on the fifth day God said, "Let the waters swarm with the swarming of animals having life, and let birds fly to and fro on the earth, on the face of the vault of the heavens." Having thus produced the inhabitants of the ocean and air on the fifth day, he produced those of earth on the sixth. On this day too he made man in his own image, and created them male and female. The whole of his work was now finished, and on the seventh day he enjoyed repose from his creative exertions, for which reason he blessed the seventh day (Gen. 1-ii. 3).

* * * * *

Here the first account of creation ends; the second begins with a descriptive title at the fourth verse of the second chapter. The writer of this version, unlike his predecessor, instead of ascribing the creation of man to the immediate fiat of Elohim, describes the process as resembling one of manufacture. God formed the human figure out of the dust of the earth, and then blew life into it, a conception drawn from the wide-spread notion of the identity of breath with life. Again the narrator of the second story varies from the narrator of the first about the creation of the sexes. In the first, the male and female are made together. In the second, a deep sleep falls upon the man, during which God takes out a rib from his side and makes the woman out of it. Generally speaking, it may be remarked that the former writer moves in a more transcendental sphere than the latter. He likes to conceive the origin of the world, with all its flora and all its fauna, as arising from the simple power of the word of God. How they arise he never troubles himself to say. The latter is more terrestrial. God with him is like a powerful artist; extremely skilled indeed in dealing with his materials, but nevertheless obliged to adapt his proceedings to their nature and capabilities. This author delights in the concrete and particular; and not only does he aim at relating the order of the creation, but also at making the _modus operandi_ more or less intelligible to his hearers.

A somewhat different account of the origin of man is given in the traditions of Samoa, one of the Fiji islands. These traditions also describe an epoch when the earth was covered with water. "Tangaloa, the great Polynesian Jupiter," sent his daughter to find a dry place. After a long time she found a rock. In subsequent visits she reported that the dry land was extending. "He then sent her down with some earth and a creeping plant, as all was barren rock. She continued to visit the earth and return to the skies. Next visit, the plant was spreading. Next time, it was withered and decomposing. Next visit, it swarmed with worms. And the next time, the worms had become men and women! A strange account of man's origin!" On which it may be remarked, as a curious psychological phenomenon, tending to illustrate the effects of habit, that the missionary considers it "a strange account of man's origin" which represents God as making him from worms, but readily accepts another in which he is made out of dust.

The third question dealt with in Genesis is that of the origin of evil. This is a problem which has engaged the attention and perplexed the minds of many inquirers besides these ancient Hebrews, and for which most religions provide some kind of solution. The manner in which it is treated here is as follows:—

When God made Adam, he placed him in a garden full of delights, and especially distinguished by the excellence of its fruit-trees. There was one of these trees, however, the fruit of which he did not wish Adam to eat. He accordingly gave him strict orders on the subject in these words: "Of every tree of the garden thou mayst eat; but of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, of that thou mayst not eat, for on what day thou eatest thereof, thou diest the death" (Gen. ii. 16, 17). This order we must suppose to have been imparted by Adam to Eve, who was not produced until after it had been given. At any rate, we find her fully cognizant of it in the ensuing chapter, where the serpent appears upon the scene and endeavors, only too successfully, to induce her to eat the fruit. After yielding to the temptation herself, she induced her husband to do the like; whereupon both recognized the hitherto unnoticed fact of their nudity, and made themselves aprons of fig-leaves. Shortly after this crisis in their lives God came down to enjoy the cool of the evening in the garden; and Adam and Eve, feeling their guilt, ran to hide themselves among the trees. God called Adam, and the latter replied that he had hidden himself because he was naked. But God at once asked who had told him he was naked. Had he eaten of the forbidden tree? Of course Adam and Eve had to confess, and God then cursed the serpent for his gross misconduct, and punished the man by imposing labor upon him, and the woman by rendering her liable to the pains of childbirth. He also condescended so far as to become the first tailor, making garments of skins for Adam and Eve. But though he had thus far got the better of them by his superior strength, he was not without apprehension that they might outwit him still. "And God, the Everlasting, spoke: See, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil; and now, lest he should stretch out his hand and take also of the tree of life, and eat and live forever! Therefore God, the Everlasting, sent him out of the garden of Eden, to cultivate the ground from which he had been taken" (Gen. iii. 22, 23). And in order to make quite sure that the man should not get hold of the tree of life, a calamity which would have defeated his intention to make him mortal, he guarded the approach to it by means of Cherubim, posted as sentinels with the flame of a sword that turned about. In this way he conceived that he had secured himself against any invasion of his privilege of immortality on the part of the human race.

Like the myth of creation, the myth of a happier and brighter age, when men did not suffer from any of the evils that oppress them now, is common, if not universal. Common too, if not equally common, is the notion that they fell from that superior state by contracting the stain of sin. I need scarcely refer to the classical story of a golden age, embodied by Hesiod in his "Works and Days," nor to the fable of Pandora allowing the ills enclosed in the box to escape into the world. But it may be of interest to remark, that the conception of a Paradise was no less familiar to the natives of America than to those of Europe. "When Christopher Columbus," observes Brinton, "fired by the hope of discovering this terrestrial paradise, broke the enchantment of the cloudy sea and found a new world, it was but to light upon the same race of men, deluding themselves with the same hope of earthly joys, the same fiction of a long-lost garden of their youth" (M. N. W., p. 87). Elsewhere he says: "Once again, in the legends of the Mixtecas, we hear the old story repeated of the garden where the first two brothers dwelt.... 'Many trees were there, such as yield flowers and roses, very luscious fruits, divers herbs, and aromatic spices'" (M. N. W., p. 90). Corresponding to the golden age among the Greeks was the Parsee conception of the reign of Yima, a mythological monarch who was in immediate and friendly intercourse with Ahura-Mazda. Yima's kingdom is thus described in the Vendidad: "There was there neither quarreling nor disputing; neither stupidity nor violence; neither begging nor imposture; neither poverty nor illness. No unduly large teeth; no form that passes the measure of the body; none of the other marks, which are marks of Agra-Mainyus, that he has made on men" (Av., vol. i. p. 76.—Vendidad, Fargard ii. 116 ff.). In another passage, found in the Khorda-Avesta, not only is the happiness of Yima's time depicted, but it is also distinctly asserted that he fell through sin. "During his rule there was no cold, no heat, no old age, no death, no envy created by the Devas, on account of the absence of lying, previously, before he (himself) began to love lying, untrue speeches. Then, when he began to love lying, untrue speeches, Majesty fled from him visibly with the body of a bird" (Av., vol. iii. p. 175.—Khorda-Avesta, xxxv. 32, 34).