THE PRIMÆVAL HISTORY. (continued 2)

29‒31. The record of creation closes with another (tenth) divine utterance, which regulates in broad and general terms the relation of men and animals to the vegetable world. The plants are destined for food to man and beast. The passage is not wholly intelligible apart from 9^{2 ff.}, from which we see that its point is the restriction on the use of animal food, particularly on the part of man. In other words, the first stage of the world’s history—that state of things which the Creator pronounced very good—is a state of peace and harmony in the animal world. This is Priestly-Code’s substitute for the garden of Eden.

A distinction is made between the food of man and that of animals: to the former (a) seeding plants (probably because the seed is important in cultivation, and in cereals is the part eaten), and (b) fruit-bearing trees; to the latter all the greenness of herbage, i.e. the succulent leafy parts. The statement is not exhaustive: no provision is made for fishes, nor is there any mention of the use of such victuals as milk, honey, etc. Observe the difference from chapters 2. 3, where man is made to live on fruit alone, and only as part of the curse has herbs (עשב) assigned to him.—31. The account closes with the divine verdict of approval, which here covers a survey of all that has been made, and rises to the superlative ‘very good.’

Verses ^{29 f.} differ significantly in their phraseology from the preceding sections: thus זֹרֵעַ instead of מַזְרִיעַ (^{11. 12}); העץ אשר בו פרי עץ זרע זרע instead of the far more elegant עץ עשה פרי אשר זרעו בו; the classification into beasts, birds, and reptiles (contrast ^{24. 25}); נפש חיה of the inner principle of life instead of the living being as in ^{20 f. 24}; ירק עשב instead of דשא. These linguistic differences are sufficient to prove literary discontinuity of some kind. They have been pointed out by Kraetschmar (Die Bundesvorstellung im Alten Testament 103 f.), who adds the doubtful material argument that the prohibition of animal food to man nullifies the dominion promised to him in verses ^{26. 28}. But his inference (partly endorsed by Holzinger) that the verses are a later addition to Priestly-Code does not commend itself; they are vitally connected with 9^{2 ff.}, and must have formed part of the theory of the Priestly writer. The facts point rather to a distinction in the sources with which Priestly-Code worked,—perhaps (as Gunkel thinks) the enrichment of the creation-story by the independent and widespread myth of the Golden Age when animals lived peaceably with one another and with men. The motives of this belief lie deep in the human heart—horror of bloodshed, sympathy with the lower animals, the longing for harmony in the world, and the conviction that on the whole the course of things has been from good to worse—all have contributed their share, and no scientific teaching can rob the idea of its poetic and ethical value.

29. נתתי] = ‘I give’; Davidson § 40 b; Driver A Treatise on the use of the Tenses in Hebrew § 13.—זרע (over Athnach)] wrongly omitted by LXX.—אכלה] found only in Priestly-Code and Ezekiel, and always preceded by לְ. It is strictly feminine infinitive, and perhaps always retains verbal force (see Driver The Journal of Philology xi. 217). The ordinary cognate words for food are אֹכֶל and מַֽאֲכָל.—30. ולכל וגו׳ The construction is obscure. The natural interpretation is that ³⁰ expresses a contrast to ²⁹—the one specifying the food of man, the other that of animals. To bring out this sense clearly it is necessary (with Ewald al.) to insert נתתי before את־כל־ירק. The text requires us to treat לכם יהיה לאכלה in ²⁹ as a parenthesis (Dillmann) and את־כל־ירק as still under the regimen of the distant נתתי.—רוֹמֵשׂ] LXX ἑρπετῷ τῷ ἕρποντι—assimilating.—נֶפֶשׁ] here used in its primary sense of the soul or animating principle (see later on 2⁷), with a marked difference from verses ^{20 f. 24}.—ירק עשׂב] so 9³, = י׳ דֶּשֶׁא Psalms 37². יֶרֶק (verdure) alone may include the foliage of trees (Exodus 10¹⁵); י׳ הַשָּׂדֶה = ‘grass’ (Numbers 22⁴). The word is rare (6 times); a still rarer form יָרָק may sometimes be confounded with it (Isaiah 37²⁷ = 2 Kings 17²⁶?).—31. יום הששי] The article with the number appears here for the first time in the chapter. On the construction, see Driver A Treatise on the use of the Tenses in Hebrew § 209 (1), where it is treated as the beginning of a usage prevalent in post-biblical Hebrew, which often in a definite expression uses the article with the adjective alone (כנסת הגדולה, etc.). Compare Gesenius-Kautzsch § 126 w (with footnote); Holzinger Einleitung in den Hexateuch 465; Driver The Journal of Philology xi. 229 f.

II. 1‒3. The rest of God.—The section contains but one idea, expressed with unusual solemnity and copiousness of language,—the institution of the Sabbath. It supplies an answer to the question, Why is no work done on the last day of the week? (Gunkel). The answer lies in the fact that God Himself rested on that day from the work of creation, and bestowed on it a special blessing and sanctity.—The writer’s idea of the Sabbath and its sanctity is almost too realistic for the modern mind to grasp: it is not an institution which exists or ceases with its observance by man; the divine rest is a fact as much as the divine working, and so the sanctity of the day is a fact whether man secures the benefit or not. There is little trace of the idea that the Sabbath was made for man and not man for the Sabbath; it is an ordinance of the kosmos like any other part of the creative operations, and is for the good of man in precisely the same sense as the whole creation is subservient to his welfare.

1. And all their host] The ‘host of heaven’ (צְבָא הַשָּׁמַיִם) is frequently mentioned in the Old Testament, and denotes sometimes the heavenly bodies, especially as objects of worship (Deuteronomy 4¹⁹ etc.), sometimes the angels considered as an organised army (1 Kings 22¹⁹ etc.). The expression ‘host of the earth’ nowhere occurs; and it is a question whether the plural suffix here is not to be explained as a denominatio a potiori (Holzinger), or as a species of attraction (Driver). If it has any special meaning as applied to the earth, it would be equivalent to what is elsewhere called מְלֹא הארץ (Isaiah 6³ 34¹, Deuteronomy 33¹⁶ etc.)—the contents of the earth, and is most naturally limited to those things whose creation has just been described.¹ In any case the verse yields little support to the view of Smend and Wellhausen, that in the name ‘Yahwe of Hosts’ the word denotes the complex of cosmical forces (Smend, Lehrbuch der alttestamentlichen Religionsgeschichte 201 ff.), or the demons in which these forces were personified (Wellhausen, Die kleinen Propheten 77).—2. And God finished, etc.] The duplication of verse ¹ is harsh, and strongly suggests a composition of sources.—on the seventh day] The Samaritan Recension of the Pentateuch, LXX, Peshiṭtå read sixth day (so also Jubilees, ii. 16, and Jerome, Quæstiones sive Traditiones hebraicæ in Genesim), which is accepted as the original text by many commentaries (Ilgen, Olshausen, Budde, al.).² But sixth is so much the easier reading that one must hesitate to give it the preference. To take the verb as pluperfect (Calvin al.) is grammatically impossible. On Wellhausen’s explanation, see above, page 9 f. The only remaining course is to give a purely negative sense to the verb finish: i.e. ‘desisted from,’ ‘did not continue’ (Abraham Ibn Ezra, Delitzsch, Dillmann, Driver, al.). The last view may be accepted, in spite of the absence of convincing parallels.—and he rested] The idea of שָׁבַת is essentially negative: cessation of work, not relaxation (Driver): see below. Even so, the expression is strongly anthropomorphic, and warns us against exaggerating Priestly-Code’s aversion to such representations.³—3. blessed ... sanctified] The day is blessed and sacred in itself and from the beginning; to say that the remark is made in view of the future institution of the Sabbath (Driver), does not quite bring out the sense. Both verbs contain the idea of selection and distinction (compare Sirach 36 [33] ^7‒9), but they are not synonymous (Gunkel). A blessing is the effective utterance of a good wish; applied to things, it means their endowment with permanently beneficial qualities (Genesis 27²⁷, Exodus 23²⁵, Deuteronomy 28¹²). This is the case here: the Sabbath is a constant source of well-being to the man who recognises its true nature and purpose. To sanctify is to set apart from common things to holy uses, or to put in a special relation to God.—which God creatively made] see the footnote.—Although no closing formula for the seventh day is given, it is contrary to the intention of the passage to think that the rest of God means His work of providence as distinct from creation: it is plainly a rest of one day that is thought of. It is, of course, a still greater absurdity to suppose an interval of twenty-four hours between the two modes of divine activity. The author did not think in our dogmatic categories at all.

¹ Compare Nehemiah 9⁶ “the heavens, the heavens of the heavens, and all their host, the earth and all that is upon it, the seas and all that is in them.”

² Expressly mentioned as LXX’s reading in Mechilta: see above, page 14, and Geiger, l.c. 439.

³ In another passage of Priestly-Code, Exodus 31¹⁷, the anthropomorphism is greatly intensified: “God rested and refreshed Himself” (literally ‘took breath’).—See Jastrow (American Journal of Theology ii. 343 ff.), who thinks that God’s ‘resting’ meant originally “His purification after His conquest of the forces hostile to the order of the world,” and was a survival of the mythological idea of the appeasement of Marduk’s anger against Ti’āmat. The verb there used is nâḫu, the equivalent of Hebrew נוח, used in Exodus 20¹¹.

The origin of the Hebrew Sabbath, and its relation to Babylonian usages, raise questions too intricate to be fully discussed here (see Lotz, Quaestiones de historia Sabbati [1883]; Jastrow, American Journal of Theology ii. [1898], 312 ff.; Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament³, 592 ff.; Driver A Dictionary of the Bible, s.v., and The Book of Genesis with Introduction and Notes 34; Stade Biblische Theologie des Alten Testaments § 88, 2). The main facts, however, are these: (1) The name šab[p]attu occurs some five or six times in cuneiform records; but of these only two are of material importance for the Sabbath problem, (a) In a syllabary (II R. 32, 16 a, b) šabattu is equated with ûm nûḫ libbi, which has been conclusively shown to mean ‘day of the appeasement of the heart (of the deity),’—in the first instance, therefore, a day of propitiation or atonement (Jensen Zeitschrift für Assyriologie, iv. 274 ff.; Jastrow l.c. 316 f.). (b) In a tablet discovered by Pinches in 1904, the name šapattu is applied to the fifteenth day of the month (as full-moon-day?) (Pinches Proceedings of the Society of Biblical Archæology, xxvi. 51 ff.; Zimmern, Zeitschrift der deutschen morgenländischen Gesellschaft, lviii. 199 ff., 458 ff.). (2) The only trace of a Babylonian institution at all resembling the Hebrew Sabbath is the fact that in certain months of the year (Elul, Marchešvan, but possibly the rest as well) the 7th, 14th, 21st and 28th days, and also the 19th (probably as the 7 × 7th from the beginning of the previous month), had the character of dies nefasti (‘lucky day, unlucky day’), on which certain actions had to be avoided by important personages (king, priest, physician) (IV R. 32 f., 33). Now, no evidence has ever been produced that these dies nefasti bore the name šabattu; and the likelihood that this was the case is distinctly lessened by the Pinches fragment, where the name is applied to the 15th day, but not to the 7th, although it also is mentioned on the tablet. The question, therefore, has assumed a new aspect; and Meinhold (Sabbat und Woche im Alten Testament [1905], and more recently [1909], Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft, xxix. 81 ff.), developing a hint of Zimmern, has constructed an ingenious hypothesis on the assumption that in Babylonian šabattu denotes the day of the full moon. He points to the close association of new-moon and Sabbath in nearly all the pre-exilic references (Amos 8⁵, Hosea 2¹³, Isaiah 1¹³, 2 Kings 4^{22 f.}); and concludes that in early Israel, as in Babylon, the Sabbath was the full-moon festival and nothing else. The institution of the weekly Sabbath he traces to a desire to compensate for the loss of the old lunar festivals, when these were abrogated by the Deuteronomic reformation. This innovation he attributes to Ezekiel; but steps towards it are found in the introduction of a weekly day of rest during harvest only (on the ground of Deuteronomy 16⁹; compare Exodus 34²¹), and in the establishment of the sabbatical year (Leviticus 25), which he considers to be older than the weekly Sabbath. The theory involves great improbabilities, and its net result seems to be to leave the actual Jewish Sabbath as we know it without any point of contact in Babylonian institutions. It is hard to suppose that there is no historical connexion between the Hebrew Sabbath and the dies nefasti of the Babylonian calendar; and if such a connexion exists, the chief difficulties remain where they have long been felt to lie, viz., (a) in the substitution of a weekly cycle running continuously through the calendar for a division of each month into seven-day periods, probably regulated by the phases of the moon; and (b) in the transformation of a day of superstitious restrictions into a day of joy and rest. Of these changes, it must be confessed, no convincing explanation has yet been found. The established sanctity of the number seven, and the decay or suppression of the lunar feasts, might be contributory causes; but when the change took place, and whether it was directly due to Babylonian influence, or was a parallel development from a lunar observance more primitive than either, cannot at present be determined. See Hehn, Siebenzahl und Sabbat bei den Babyloniern und im Alten Testament, 91 ff., especially 114 ff.; compare Gordon, The Early Traditions of Genesis, 216 ff.

1. צבא] Literally ‘host’ or ‘army’; then ‘period of service’ (chiefly military), LXX κόσμος and Vulgate ornatus look like a confusion with צְבִי. Used of the host of heaven, Deuteronomy 4¹⁹ 17³, Isaiah 24²¹ 40²⁶, where Vulgate has in the first case astra, in the others militia; LXX κόσμος in all.—2. ויכל] For the alleged negative sense of Piel (see above), examine Numbers 17²⁵, or (with מן) 1 Samuel 10¹³, Exodus 34³³ etc.—מלאכה] the word “used regularly of the work or business forbidden on the Sabbath (Exodus 20^{9. 10} 35², Jeremiah 17^{22. 24} al.)” (Driver); or on holy convocations (Exodus 12¹⁶, Leviticus 16²⁹ 23^{28 ff.}, Numbers 29⁷). It has the prevailing sense of regular occupation or business, as Genesis 39¹¹, Jonah 1⁸.—השביעי¹] The Samaritan Recension of the Pentateuch, LXX, Peshiṭtå, The Book of Jubilees., Bereshith Rabba הששי, given as LXX’s reading in Mechilta (compare page 14 above).—וישבת] The omission of continued subject (אלהים) might strengthen Wellhausen’s contention that the clause is a gloss (see page 10 above): it occurs nowhere else in the passage except possibly 1⁷. The verb שבת (possibly connected with Aramaic sabata = ‘cut off,’ or Assyrian šabātu = ‘cease,’ ‘be completed’: but see Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament³, 593 f.) appears in Old Testament in three quite distinct senses: (a) ‘cease to be,’ ‘come to an end’; (b) ‘desist’ (from work, etc.); (c) ‘keep Sabbath’ (denominative). Of the last there are four undoubted cases, all very late: Leviticus 25² 23³² 26^{34 f.}, 2 Chronicles 36²¹. But there are five others where this meaning is at least possible: Genesis 2^{2. 3}, Exodus 16³⁰ 23¹² 34²¹ 31¹⁷; and of these Exodus 23¹² 34²¹ are pre-exilic. Apart from these doubtful passages, the sense ‘desist’ (b) is found only in Hosea 7⁴, Job 32¹ (Qal); Exodus 5⁵, Joshua 22²⁵, Ezekiel 16⁴¹ 34¹⁰ (Hiphil); of which Hosea 7⁴ (a corrupt context) and Exodus 5⁵, alone are possibly pre-exilic. In all other occurrences (about 46 in all; 9 Qal, 4 Niphal, 33 Hiphil) the sense (a) ‘come to an end’ obtains; and this usage prevails in all stages of the literature from Amos to Daniel; the pre-exilic examples being Genesis 8²², Joshua 5¹²(?) (Qal); Isaiah 17³ (Niphal); Amos 8⁴, Hosea 1⁴ 2¹³, Isaiah 16¹⁰(?) 30¹¹, Deuteronomy 32²⁶, 2 Kings 23^{5. 11}, Jeremiah 7³⁴ 16⁹ 36²⁹ (Hiphil). These statistics seem decisive against Hehn’s view (l.c. 93 ff.) that שָׁבַת is originally a denominative from שַׁבָּת. If all the uses are to be traced to a single root-idea, there can be no doubt that (b) is primary. But while a dependence of (a) on (b) is intelligible (compare the analogous case of חָדַל), ‘desist’ from work, and ‘come to an end’ are after all very different ideas; and, looking to the immense preponderance of the latter sense (a), especially in the early literature, it is worth considering whether the old Hebrew verb did not mean simply ‘come to an end,’ and whether the sense ‘desist’ was not imported into it under the influence of the denominative use (c) of which Exodus 23¹² 34²¹ might be early examples. [A somewhat similar view is now expressed by Meinhold (Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft, 1909, 100 f.), except that he ignores the distinction between ‘desist’ and ‘come to an end,’ which seems to me important.]—3. ברא ... לעשות] The awkward construction is perhaps adopted because ברא could not directly govern the substantive מלאכה. LXX has ἤρξατο ... ποιῆσαι.

4a. These are the generations, etc.] The best sense that can be given to the expression is to refer the pronoun to what precedes, and render the noun by ‘origin’: ‘This is the origin of,’ etc. But it is doubtful if תולדות can bear any such meaning, and altogether the half-verse is in the last degree perplexing. It is in all probability a redactional insertion.

The formula (and indeed the whole phraseology) is characteristic of Priestly-Code; and in that document it invariably stands as introduction to the section following. But in this case the next section (2^4b‒4²⁶) belongs to Yahwist; and if we pass over the Yahwist passages to the next portion of Priestly-Code (chapter 5), the formula would collide with 5¹, which is evidently the proper heading to what follows. Unless, therefore, we adopt the improbable hypothesis of Strack, that a part of Priestly-Code’s narrative has been dropped, the attempt to treat 2^4a in its present position as a superscription must be abandoned. On this ground most critics have embraced a view propounded by Ilgen, that the clause stood originally before 1¹, as the heading of Priestly-Code’s account of the creation.¹ But this theory also is open to serious objection. It involves a meaning of תולדות which is contrary both to its etymology and the usage of Priestly-Code (see footnote). Whatever latitude of meaning be assigned to the word, it is the fact that in this formula it is always followed by genitive of the progenitor, never of the progeny: hence by analogy the phrase must describe that which is generated by the heavens and the earth, not the process by which they themselves are generated (so Lagarde, Orientalia ii. 38 ff., and Holzinger). And even if that difficulty could be overcome (see Lagarde), generation is a most unsuitable description of the process of creation as conceived by Priestly-Code. In short, neither as superscription nor as subscription can the sentence be accounted for as an integral part of the Priestly Code. There seems no way out of the difficulty but to assume with Holzinger that the formula in this place owes its origin to a mechanical imitation of the manner of Priestly-Code by a later hand. The insertion would be suggested by the observation that the formula divides the book of Genesis into definite sections; while the advantage of beginning a new section at this point would naturally occur to an editor who felt the need of sharply separating the two accounts of the creation, and regarded the second as in some way the continuation of the first. If that be so, he probably took ת׳ in the sense of ‘history’ and referred אֵלֶּה to what follows. The analogy of 5¹, Numbers 3¹ would suffice to justify the use of the formula before the ביום of ^4b.—It has been thought that LXX has preserved the original form of the text: viz. זה ספר ת׳ וגו׳ (compare 5¹); the redactor having, “before inserting a section from the other document, accidentally copied in the opening words of 5¹, which were afterwards adapted to their present position” (Bennett). That is improbable. It is more likely that LXX deliberately altered the text to correspond with 5¹. See Field, Origenis Hexaplorum quæ supersunt; sive Veterum Interpretum Græcorum in totum Vetus Testamentum Fragmenta, ad loc.; Nestle, Marginalien und Materialien, 4.

4a. תולדות] only in plural constructs or with suffix; and confined to Priestly-Code, Chronicles and Ruth 4¹⁸. Formed from Hiphil of ילד, it means properly ‘begettings’; not, however, as noun of action, but concretely (= ‘progeny’); and this is certainly the prevalent sense. The phrase א׳ ת׳ (only Priestly-Code [all in Genesis except Numbers 3¹], 1 Chronicles 1²⁹, Ruth 4¹⁸) means primarily “These are the descendants”; but since a list of descendants is a genealogy, it is practically the same thing if we render, “This is the genealogical register.” In the great majority of instances (Genesis [5¹] 10¹ 11¹⁰ 11²⁷ 25¹² 36^{1. 9}, 1 Chronicles 1²⁹, Ruth 4¹⁸) this sense is entirely suitable; the addition of a few historical notices is not inconsistent with the idea of a genealogy, nor is the general character of these sections affected by it. There are just three cases where this meaning is inapplicable: Genesis 6⁹ 25¹⁹ 37². But it is noteworthy that, except in the last case, at least a fragment of a genealogy follows; and it is fair to inquire whether 37² may not have been originally followed by a genealogy (such as 35^22b‒26 or 46^8‒27 [see Hupfeld, Die Quellen der Genesis und die Art ihrer Zusammensetzung, 102‒109, 213‒216]) which was afterwards displaced in the course of redaction (see page 423, below). With that assumption we could explain every occurrence of the formula without having recourse to the unnatural view that the word may mean a “family history” (Gesenius-Buhl s.v.), or “an account of a man and his descendants” (Brown-Driver-Briggs). The natural hypothesis would then be that a series of תולדות formed one of the sources employed by Priestly-Code in compiling his work: the introduction of this genealogical document is preserved in 5¹ (so Holzinger); the recurrent formula represents successive sections of it, and 2^4a is a redactional imitation. When it came to be amalgamated with the narrative material, some dislocations took place: hence the curious anomaly that a man’s history sometimes appears under his own Tôlĕdôth, sometimes under those of his father; and it is difficult otherwise to account for the omission of the formula before 12¹ or for its insertion in 36⁹. On the whole, this theory seems to explain the facts better than the ordinary view that the formula was devised by Priestly-Code to mark the divisions of the principal work.—ב^הבראם] ‘in their creation’ or ‘when they were created.’ If the literal minuscule has critical significance (Tuch, Dillmann) the primary reading was infinitive Qal (בְּבָרְאָם); and this requires to be supplemented by אלהים as subject. It is in this form that Dillmann thinks the clause originally stood at the beginning of Genesis. (see on 1¹). But the omission of אלהים and the insertion of the ^ה minuscule are no necessary consequences of the transposition of the sentence; and the small ^ה may be merely an error in the archetypal MS, which has been mechanically repeated in all copies.

¹ On Dillmann’s modification of this theory, see above on 1¹.

Babylonian and other Cosmogonies.

1. The outlines of Babylonian cosmogony have long been known from two brief notices in Greek writers: (1) an extract from Berossus (3rd century B.C.) made by Alexander Polyhistor, and preserved by Syncellus from the lost Chronicle of Eusebius (lib. i.); and (2) a passage from the Neo-Platonic writer Damascius (6th century A.D.). From these it was apparent that the biblical account of creation is in its main conceptions Babylonian. The interest of the fragments has been partly enhanced, but partly superseded, since the discovery of the closely parallel ‘Chaldæan Genesis,’ unearthed from the debris of Asshurbanipal’s library at Nineveh by George Smith in 1873. It is therefore unnecessary to examine them in detail; but since the originals are not very accessible to English readers, they are here reprinted in full (with emendations after Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament³, 488 ff.):

(1) Berossus: Γενέσθαι φησὶ χρόνον ἐν ᾧ τὸ πᾶν σκότος καὶ ὕδωρ εἶναι, καὶ ἐν τούτοις ζῶα τερατώδη, καὶ ἰδιοφυεῖς [emphatic by Richt., codex εἰδιφυεῖς] τὰς ἰδέας ἔχοντα ζωογονεῖσθαι· ἀνθρώπους γὰρ διπτέρους γεννηθῆναι, ἐνίους δὲ καὶ τετραπτέρους καὶ διπροσώπους· καὶ σῶμα μὲν ἔχοντας ἕν, κεφαλὰς δὲ δύο, ἀνδρείαν τε καὶ γυναικείαν, καὶ αἰδοῖα δὲ [corrected by von Gutschmid, codex τε], δισσὰ, ἄῤῥεν καὶ θῆλυ· καὶ ἑτέρους ἀνθρώπους τοὺς μὲν αἰγῶν σκέλη καὶ κέρατα ἔχοντας, τοὺς δὲ ἵππου πόδας [corrected by von Gutschmid, codex ἱππόποδας], τοὺς δὲ τὰ ὀπίσω μὲν μέρη ἵππων, τὰ δὲ ἔμπροσθεν ἀνθρώπων, οὓς [ὡς? von Gutschmid] ἱπποκενταύρους τὴν ἰδέαν εἶναι. Ζωογονηθῆναι δὲ καὶ ταύρους ἀνθρώπων κεφαλὰς ἔχοντας καὶ κύνας τετρασωμάτους, οὐρὰς ἰχθύος ἐκ τῶν ὄπισθεν μερῶν ἔχοντας, καὶ ἵππους κυνοκεφάλους καὶ ἀνθρώπους, καὶ ἕτερα ζῶα κεφαλὰς μὲν καὶ σώματα ἵππων ἔχοντα, οὐρὰς δὲ ἰχθύων· καὶ ἄλλα δὲ ζῶα παντοδαπῶν θηρίων μορφὰς ἔχοντα. Πρὸς δὲ τούτοις ἰχθύας καὶ ἑρπετὰ καὶ ὄφεις καὶ ἄλλα ζῶα πλείονα θαυμαστὰ καὶ παρηλλαγμένας [emphatic by von Gutschmid, codex παρηλλαγμένα] τὰς ὄψεις ἀλλήλων ἔχοντα· ὧν καὶ τὰς εἰκόνας ἐν τῷ τοῦ Βηλου ναῷ ἀνακεῖσθαι, ἄρχειν δὲ τούτων πάντων γυναῖκα ᾗ ὄνομα Ὀμορκα [corrected by Scaliger, codex Ὁμορωκα] εἶναι· τοῦτο δὲ Χαλδαϊστὶ μὲν Θαμτε [corrected by W. R. Smith, Zeitschrift für Assyriologie, vi. 339, codex Θαλατθ], Ἑλληνιστὶ δὲ μεθερμηνεύεται θάλασσα κατὰ δὲ ἰσόψηφον σελήνη. Οὕτως δὲ τῶν ὅλων συνεστηκότων, ἐπανελθόντα Βηλον σχίσαι τὴν γυναῖκα μέσην, καὶ τὸ μὲν ἥμισυ αὐτῆς ποιῆσαι γῆν, τὸ δὲ ἄλλο ἥμισυ οὐρανὸν, καὶ τὰ ἐν [σὺν? von Gutschmid] αὐτῇ ζῶα ἀφανίσαι, ἀλληγορικῶς δέ φησι τοῦτο πεφυσιολογῆσθαι· ὑγροῦ γὰρ ὄντος τοῦ παντὸς καὶ ζώων ἐν αὐτῷ γεγεννημένων [A]¹ τοιῶνδε [emphatic by von Gutschmid, codex τὸν δὲ] Βηλον, ὃν Δία μεθερμηνεύουσι, μέσον τεμόντα τὸ σκότος χωρίσαι γῆν καὶ οὐρανὸν ἀπ’ ἀλλήλων, καὶ διατάξαι τὸν κόσμον. Τὰ δὲ ζῶα οὐκ ἐνεγκόντα τὴν τοῦ φωτὸς δύναμιν φθαρῆναι, ἰδόντα δὲ τὸν Βηλον χώραν ἔρημον καὶ ἀκαρποφόρον [emphatic by Gunkel, codex καρποφόρον] κελεῦσαι ἑνὶ τῶν θεῶν τὴν κεφαλὴν ἀφελόντι ἑαυτοῦ τῷ ἀποῤῥυέντι αἵματι φυρᾶσαι τὴν γῆν καὶ διαπλάσαι ἀνθρώπους καὶ θηρία τὰ δυνάμενα τὸν ἀέρα φέρειν. Ἀποτελέσαι δὲ τὸν Βηλον καὶ ἄστρα καὶ ἥλιον καὶ σελήνην καὶ τοὺς πέντε πλανήτας. Ταῦτά φησιν ὁ πολυΐστωρ Ἀλέξανδρος τὸν Βηρωσσὸν ἐν τῇ πρώτῃ φάσκειν [B]¹ τοῦτον τὸν θεὸν ἀφελεῖν τὴν ἑαυτοῦ κεφαλὴν καὶ τὸ ῥυὲν αἷμα τοὺς ἄλλους θεοὺς φυρᾶσαι τῇ γῇ, καὶ διαπλάσαι τοὺς ἀνθρώπους· διὸ νοερούς τε εἶναι καὶ φρονήσεως θείας μετέχειν.

¹ The sections commencing with [A] and [B] stand in the reverse order in the text. The transposition is due to von Gutschmid, and seems quite necessary to bring out any connected meaning, though there may remain a suspicion that the two accounts of the creation of man are variants, and that the second is interpolated. Jeremias Das Alte Testament im Lichte des alten Orients², 134, plausibly assigns the section from ἀλληγορικῶς to φθαρῆναι to another recension (restoring [B] to its place in the text).

(2) Damascius: Τῶν δὲ βαρβάρων ἐοίκασι Βαβυλώνιοι μὲν τὴν μίαν τῶν ὅλων ἀρχὴν σιγῇ παριέναι, δύο δὲ ποιεῖν Ταυθε καὶ Ἀπασων, τὸν μὲν Ἀπασων ἄνδρα τῆς Ταυθε ποιοῦντες, ταύτην δὲ μητέρα θεῶν ὀνομάζοντες, ἐξ ὧν μονογενῆ παῖδα γεννηθῆναι τὸν Μωυμιν, αὐτὸν οἶμαι τὸν νοητὸν κόσμον ἐκ τῶν δυοῖν ἀρχῶν παραγόμενον. Ἐκ δὲ τῶν αὐτῶν ἄλλην γενεὰν προελθεῖν, Λαχην [codex Δαχην] καὶ Λαχον [codex Δαχον]. Εἶτα αὖ τρίτην ἐκ τῶν αὐτῶν, Κισσαρη καὶ Ἀσσωρον, ἐξ ὧν γενέσθαι τρεῖς, Ἀνον καὶ Ἰλλινον καὶ Ἀον· τοῦ δὲ Ἀου καὶ Δαυκης υἱὸν γενέσθαι τὸν Βηλον, ὃν δημιουργὸν εἶναί φασιν.[B]¹

¹ The Greek text of Berossus will be found in Müller, Fragmenta Historicorum Græcorum ii. 497 f.; that of Damascius in Damascii philosophi de primis principiis (edited by Kopp, 1826), cap. 125. For translations of both fragments, see Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament³, 488 ff.; G. Smith, Chaldean Genesis (edited by Sayce), pages 34 ff., 43 f. (from Cory, Ancient Fragments); Gunkel Schöpfung und Chaos in Urzeit und Endzeit 17 ff.; Nikel, Genesis und Keilschriftforschung 24 f., 28.

2. The only cuneiform document which admits of close and continuous comparison with Genesis 1 is the great Creation Epos just referred to. Since the publication, in 1876, of the first fragments, many lacunæ have been filled up from subsequent discoveries, and several duplicates have been brought to light; and the series is seen to have consisted of seven Tablets, entitled, from the opening phrase, Enuma eliš (= ‘When above’).¹ The actual tablets discovered are not of earlier date than the 7th century B.C., but there are strong reasons to believe that the originals of which these are copies are of much greater antiquity, and may go back to 2000 B.C., while the myth itself probably existed in writing in other forms centuries before that. Moreover, they represent the theory of creation on which the statements of Berossus and Damascius are based, and they have every claim to be regarded as the authorised version of the Babylonian cosmogony. It is here, therefore, if anywhere, that we must look for traces of Babylonian influences on the Hebrew conception of the origin of the world. The following outline of the contents of the tablets is based on King’s analysis of the epic into five originally distinct parts (The Seven Tablets of Creation, page lxvii).

¹ The best collection and translation of the relevant texts in English is given in L. W. King’s Seven Tablets of Creation, volume i. (1902); with which should be compared Jensen Mythen und Epen, in Keilinschriftliche Bibliothek, vi. 1 (1900), and now (1909) Gressmann, Altorientalische Texte und Bilder zum Alten Testament, i. 4 ff. See also Jensen Die Kosmologie der Babylonier (1890), 268‒301; Gunkel Schöpfung und Chaos in Urzeit und Endzeit (1894) 401‒420, and the summaries in Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament³, 492 ff.; Lukas, Die Grundbegriffe in den Kosmogonien der alten Völker (1893), 2 ff.; Jastrow The Religion of Babylonia and Assyria (1898) 410 ff.; Jeremias Das Alte Testament im Lichte des alten Orients², 132 ff.; Encyclopædia Biblica, article Creation.

i. The Theogony.—The first twenty-one lines of Tablet I. contain a description of the primæval chaos and the evolution of successive generations of deities:

When in the height heaven was not named,

And the earth beneath did not bear a name,

And the primæval Apsu,¹ who begat them,

And chaos, Ti’āmat,² the mother of them both,—

Their waters were mingled together,

Then were created the gods in the midst of (heaven), etc.

First Laḥmu and Laḥamu,³ then Ansar and Kisar,⁴ and lastly (as we learn from Damascius, whose report is in accord with this part of the tablet, and may safely be used to make up a slight defect) the supreme triad of the Babylonian pantheon, Anu, Bel, and Ea.⁵

¹ Damascius, Ἀπασων.

² Damascius Ταυθε, Berossus Θαμτε (emphatic, see above).

³ Damascius Λαχη and Λαχος (emphatic).

⁴ Ἀσσωρος and Κισσαρη.

⁵ Ἀνος, Ἰλλινος (In-lil = Bel), and, Ἀος.

ii. The Subjugation of Apsu by Ea.—The powers of chaos, Apsu, Tiamat, and a third being called Mummu (Damascius Μωυμις), take counsel together to ‘destroy the way’ of the heavenly deities. An illegible portion of Tablet I. must have told how Apsu and Mummu were vanquished by Ea, leaving Tiamat still unsubdued. In the latter part of the tablet the female monster is again incited to rebellion by a god called Kingu, whom she chooses as her consort, laying on his breast the ‘Tables of Destiny’ which the heavenly gods seek to recover. She draws to her side many of the old gods, and brings forth eleven kinds of monstrous beings to aid her in the fight.

iii. The conflict between Marduk and Tiamat.—Tablets II. and III. are occupied with the consultations of the gods in view of this new peril, resulting in the choice of Marduk as their champion; and Tablet IV. gives a graphic description of the conflict that ensues. On the approach of the sun-god, mounted on his chariot and formidably armed, attended by a host of winds, Tiamat’s helpers flee in terror, and she alone confronts the angry deity. Marduk entangles her in his net, sends a hurricane into her distended jaws, and finally despatches her by an arrow shot into her body.

iv. The account of creation commences near the end of Tablet IV. After subduing the helpers of Tiamat and taking the Tables of Destiny from Kingu, Marduk surveys the carcase, and ‘devised a cunning plan’:

He split her up like a flat fish into two halves;

One half of her he stablished as a covering for the heaven.

He fixed a bolt, he stationed a watchman,

And bade them not to let her waters come forth.

He passed through the heavens, he surveyed the regions (thereof),

And over against the Deep he set the dwelling of Nudimmud.¹

And the lord measured the structure of the Deep

And he founded E-šara, a mansion like unto it.

The mansion E-šara which he created as heaven,

He caused Anu, Bel, and Ea in their districts to inhabit.

¹ Ea.

Berossus says, what is no doubt implied here, that of the other half of Tiamat he made the earth; but whether this is meant by the founding of E-šara, or is to be looked for in a lost part of Tablet V., is a point in dispute (see Jensen Die Kosmologie der Babylonier 185 ff., 195 ff.; and Keilinschriftliche Bibliothek, vi. 1, 344 f.). Tablet V. opens with the creation of the heavenly bodies:

He made the stations for the great gods;

The stars, their images, as the stars of the Zodiac, he fixed.

He ordained the year and into sections he divided it;

For the twelve months he fixed three stars.

The Moon-god he caused to shine forth, the night he entrusted to him.

He appointed him, a being of the night, to determine the days;

Every month without ceasing with the crown he covered(?) him, (saying,)

“At the beginning of the month, when thou shinest upon the land,

Thou commandest the horns to determine six days,

And on the seventh day,” etc. etc.

The rest of Tablet V., where legible, contains nothing bearing on the present subject; but in Tablet VI. we come to the creation of man, which is recorded in a form corresponding to the account of Berossus:

When Marduk heard the word of the gods,

His heart prompted him, and he devised (a cunning plan).

He opened his mouth and unto Ea (he spake),

(That which) he had conceived in his heart he imparted (unto him):

“My blood will I take and bone will I (fashion),

I will make man, that man may ... (...)

I will create man, who shall inhabit (the earth),

That the service of the gods may be established,” etc. etc.

At the end of the tablet the gods assemble to sing the praises of Marduk; and the last tablet is filled with a

v. Hymn in honour of Marduk.—From this we learn that to Marduk was ascribed the creation of vegetation and of the ‘firm earth,’ as well as those works which are described in the legible portions of Tablets IV.‒VI.

How far, now, does this conception of creation correspond with the cosmogony of Genesis 1? (1) In both we find the general notion of a watery chaos, and an etymological equivalence in the names (Ti’āmat, Tĕhôm) by which it is called. It is true that the Babylonian chaos is the subject of a double personification, Apsu representing the male, and Tiamat the female principle by whose union the gods are generated. According to Jensen (Keilinschriftliche Bibliothek, 559 f.), Apsu is the fresh, life-giving water which descends from heaven in the rain, while Tiamat is the ‘stinking,’ salt water of the ocean: in the beginning these were mingled (Tablet I. 5), and by the mixture the gods were produced. But in the subsequent narrative the rôle of Apsu is insignificant; and in the central episode, the conflict with Marduk, Tiamat alone represents the power of chaos, as in Hebrew Tĕhôm.—(2) In Enuma eliš the description of chaos is followed by a theogony, of which there is no trace in Genesis. The Babylonian theory is essentially monistic, the gods being conceived as emanating from a material chaos. Lukas, indeed (l.c. 14 ff., 24 ff.), has tried to show that they are represented as proceeding from a supreme spiritual principle, Anu. But while an independent origin of deity may be consistent with the opening lines of Tablet I., it is in direct opposition to the statement of Damascius, and is irreconcilable with the later parts of the series, where the gods are repeatedly spoken of as children of Apsu and Tiamat. The biblical conception, on the contrary, is probably dualistic (above, pages 7, 15), and at all events the supremacy of the spiritual principle (Elohim) is absolute. That a theogony must have originally stood between verses ² and ³ of Genesis 1 (Gunkel) is more than can be safely affirmed. Gunkel thinks it is the necessary sequel to the idea of the world-egg in the end of verse ². But he himself regards that idea as foreign to the main narrative; and if in the original source something must have come out of the egg, it is more likely to have been the world itself (as in the Phœnician and Indian cosmogonies) than a series of divine emanations.—(3) Both accounts assume, but in very different ways, the existence of light before the creation of the heavenly bodies. In the Babylonian legend the assumption is disguised by the imagery of the myth: the fact that Marduk, the god of light, is himself the demiurge, explains the omission of light from the category of created things. In the biblical account that motive no longer operates, and accordingly light takes its place as the first creation of the Almighty.—(4) A very important parallel is the conception of heaven as formed by a separation of the waters of the primæval chaos. In Enuma eliš the septum is formed from the body of Tiamat; in Genesis it is simply a rākî‛a—a solid structure fashioned for the purpose. But the common idea is one that could hardly have been suggested except by the climatic conditions under which the Babylonian myth is thought to have originated. Jensen has shown, to the satisfaction of a great many writers, how the imagery of the Babylonian myth can be explained from the changes that pass over the face of nature in the lower Euphrates valley about the time of the vernal equinox (see Die Kosmologie der Babylonier 307 ff.; compare Gunkel Schöpfung und Chaos in Urzeit und Endzeit 24 ff.; Gordon). Chaos is an idealisation of the Babylonian winter, when the heavy rains and the overflow of the rivers have made the vast plain like a sea, when thick mists obscure the light, and the distinction between heaven and sea seems to be effaced. Marduk represents the spring sun, whose rays pierce the darkness and divide the waters, sending them partly upwards as clouds, and partly downwards to the sea, so that the dry land appears. The ‘hurricane,’ which plays so important a part in the destruction of the chaos-monster, is the spring winds that roll away the dense masses of vapour from the surface of the earth. If this be the natural basis of the myth of Marduk and Tiamat, it is evident that it must have originated in a marshy alluvial region, subject to annual inundations, like the Euphrates valley.—(5) There is, again, a close correspondence between the accounts of the creation of the heavenly bodies (see page 21 f.). The Babylonian is much fuller, and more saturated with mythology: it mentions not only the moon but the signs of the Zodiac, the planet Jupiter, and the stars. But in the idea that the function of the luminaries is to regulate time, and in the destination of the moon to rule the night, we must recognise a striking resemblance between the two cosmogonies.—(6) The last definite point of contact is the creation of man (page 30 f.). Here, however, the resemblance is slight, though the deliberative 1st person plural in Genesis 1²⁶ is probably a reminiscence of a dialogue like that between Marduk and Ea in the Enuma eliš narrative.—(7) With regard to the order of the works, it is evident that there cannot have been complete parallelism between the two accounts. In the tablets the creation of heaven is followed naturally by that of the stars. The arrangement of the remaining works, which must have been mentioned in lost parts of Tablets V. and VI., is, of course, uncertain; but the statement of Berossus suggests that the creation of land animals followed instead of preceding that of man. At the same time it is very significant that the separate works themselves, apart from their order: Firmament, Luminaries, Earth, Plants, Animals, Men,—are practically identical in the two documents: there is even a fragment (possibly belonging to the series) which alludes to the creation of marine animals as a distinct class (King, The Seven Tablets of Creation, lix, lxxxvi). Gordon (Early Traditions of Genesis) holds that the differences of arrangement can be reduced to the single transposition of heavenly bodies and plants (see his table, page 51).

In view of these parallels, it seems impossible to doubt that the cosmogony of Genesis 1 rests on a conception of the process of creation fundamentally identical with that of the Enuma eliš tablets.

3. There is, however, another recension of the Babylonian creation story from which the fight of the sun-god with chaos is absent, and which for that reason possesses a certain importance for our present purpose. It occurs as the introduction to a bilingual magical text, first published by Pinches in 1891.¹ Once upon a time, it tells us, there were no temples for the gods, no plants, no houses or cities, no human inhabitants:

The Deep had not been created, Eridu had not been built;

Of the holy house, the house of the gods, the habitation had not been made.

All lands were sea (tāmtu).

Then arose a ‘movement in the sea’; the most ancient shrines and cities of Babylonia were made, and divine beings created to inhabit them. Then

Marduk laid a reed¹ on the face of the waters;

He formed dust and poured it out beside the reed,

That he might cause the gods to dwell in the habitation of their heart’s desire.

He formed mankind; the goddess Aruru together with him created the seed of mankind.

¹ So King; but Jeremias ‘a reed-hurdle’ (Rohrgeflecht); while Jensen renders: ‘Marduk placed a canopy in front of the waters, He created earth and heaped it up against the canopy’—a reference to the firmament (so Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament³).

Next he formed beasts, the rivers, grasses, various kinds of animals, etc.; then, having ‘laid in a dam by the side of the sea,’ he made reeds and trees, houses and cities, and the great Babylonian sanctuaries. The whole description is extremely obscure, and the translations vary widely. The main interest of the fragment lies in its non-legendary, matter-of-fact representation of the primæval condition of things, and of the process of world-building. Of special correspondences with Genesis 1 there are perhaps but two: (a) the impersonal conception of chaos implied in the appellative sense of tāmtu (Tĕhôm) for the sea; (b) the comparison of the firmament to a canopy, if that be the right interpretation of the phrase. In the order of the creation of living beings it resembles more the account in Genesis 2; but from that account it is sharply distinguished by its assumption of a watery chaos in contrast to the arid waste of Genesis 2⁵. It is therefore inadmissible to regard this text as a more illuminating parallel to Genesis 1 than the Enuma eliš tablets. The most that can be said is that it suggests the possibility that in Babylonia there may have existed recensions of the creation story in which the mythical motive of a conflict between the creator and the chaos-monster played no part, and that the biblical narrative goes back directly to one of these. But when we consider that the Tiamat myth appears in both the Greek accounts of Babylonian cosmogony, that echoes of it are found in other ancient cosmogonies, and that in these cases its imagery is modified in accordance with the religious ideas of the various races, the greater probability is that the cosmogony of Genesis 1 is directly derived from it, and that the elimination of its mythical and polytheistic elements is due to the influence of the pure ethical monotheism of the Old Testament.—Gunkel in his Schöpfung und Chaos was the first to call attention to possible survivals of the creation myth in Hebrew poetry. We find allusions to a conflict between Yahwe and a monster personified under various names (Rahab, the Dragon, Leviathan, etc.—but never Tĕhôm); and no explanation of them is so natural as that which traces them to the idea of a struggle between Yahwe and the power of chaos, preceding (as in the Babylonian myth) the creation of the world. The passages, however, are late; and we cannot be sure that they do not express a literary interest in foreign mythology rather than a survival of a native Hebrew myth.²

¹ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, 1891, 393 ff.; translated in King, The Seven Tablets of Creation, 131 ff.; Keilinschriftliche Bibliothek, 39 ff.; Das Alte Testament im Lichte des alten Orients², 129 ff.; Texte und Bilder, i. 27 f.; Sayce, Early Israel, 336 f. Compare the summary in Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament³, 498.

² The chief texts are Isaiah 51^{9 f.}, Psalms 89^{10 ff.}, Job 26^{12 f.} (Rahab); Psalms 74^{12 ff.}, Isaiah 27¹ (Leviathan); Job 7¹² (the Dragon), etc. See the discussion in Schöpfung und Chaos in Urzeit und Endzeit 30‒111; and the criticisms of Cheyne Encyclopædia Biblica, i. 950 f., and Nikel, pages 90‒99.

4. The Phœnician cosmogony, of which the three extant recensions are given below,¹ hardly presents any instructive points of comparison with Genesis 1. It contains, however, in each of its recensions, the idea of the world-egg—a very widespread cosmological speculation to which no Babylonian analogies have been found, but which is supposed to underlie the last clause of Genesis 1². In Sanchuniathon, the union of ‘gloomy, breath-like Air’ with ‘turbid dark Chaos’ produces a miry watery mixture called Μωτ, in which all things originate, and first of all certain living beings named ‘watchers of heaven’ (צֹפֵי שָׁמַיִם). These appear to be the constellations, and it is said that they are ‘shaped like the form of an egg,’ i.e., probably, are arranged in the sky in that form. In Eudemos, the first principles are Χρόνος, Πόθος, and Ὀμίχλη: the two latter give birth to Ἀήρ and Αὔρα, and from the union of these again proceeds ‘an egg.’ More striking is the expression of the idea in Mochos. Here the union of Αἰθήρ and Ἀήρ produces Οὐλωμος (עוֹלָם), from which proceed Χουσωρος, ‘the first opener,’ and then ‘an egg.’ It is afterwards explained that the egg is the heaven, and that when it is split in two (? by Χουσωρος) the one half forms the heaven and the other the earth. It may introduce consistency into these representations if we suppose that in the process of evolution the primæval chaos (which is coextensive with the future heaven and earth) assumes the shape of an egg, and that this is afterwards divided into two parts, corresponding to the heaven and the earth. The function of Χουσωρος is thus analogous to the act of Marduk in cleaving the body of Tiamat in two. But obviously all this throws remarkably little light on Genesis 1².—Another supposed point of contact is the resemblance between the name Βααυ and the Hebrew בֹּהוּ. In Sanchuniathon Βααυ is explained as night, and is said to be the wife of the Kolpia-wind, and mother of Αἰών and Πρωτόγονος, the first pair of mortals. It is evident that there is much confusion in this part of the extract; and it is not unreasonably conjectured that Αἰών and Πρωτόγονος were really the first pair of emanations, and Kolpia and Baau the chaotic principles from which they spring; so that they may be the cosmological equivalents of Tōhû and Bōhû in Genesis. There is a strong probability that the name Βααυ is connected with Bau, a Babylonian mother-goddess (see Das Alte Testament im Lichte des alten Orients², 161); but the evidence is too slight to enable us to say that specifically Phœnician influences are traceable in Genesis 1².

¹ Eusebius Præparatio Evangelica i. 10 (edited by Heinichen, page 37 ff.; compare Orelli, Sanchoniathonis Berytii Quae Feruntur Fragmenta [1826]), gives the following account of the cosmogony of Sanchuniathon (a Phœnician writer of unknown date, and even of uncertain historicity) taken from Philo Byblius:

“Τὴν τῶν ὅλων ἀρχὴν ὑποτίθεται ἀέρα ζοφώδη καὶ πνευματώδη, ἢ πνοὴν ἀέρος ζοφώδους, καὶ χάος θολερὸν, ἐρεβῶδες. Ταῦτα δὲ εἶναι ἄπειρα, καὶ διὰ πολὺν αἰῶνα μὴ ἔχειν πέρας. Ὅτε δέ, φησιν, ἠράσθη τὸ πνεῦμα τῶν ἰδίων ἀρχῶν, καὶ ἐγένετο σύγκρασις, ἡ πλοκὴ ἐκείνη ἐκλήθη Πόθος. Αὕτη δὲ ἀρχὴ κτίσεως ἁπάντων· αὐτὸ δὲ οὐκ ἐγίνωσκε τὴν αὐτοῦ κτίσιν, καὶ ἐκ τῆς αὐτοῦ συμπλοκῆς τοῦ πνεύματος, ἐγένετο Μώτ. Τοῦτό τινές φασιν ἰλύν, οἱ δὲ, ὑδατώδους μίξεως σῆψιν. Καὶ ἐκ ταύτης ἐγένετο πᾶσα σπορὰ κτίσεως, καὶ γένεσις τῶν ὅλων. Ἦν δέ τινα ζῶα οὐκ ἔχοντα αἴσθησιν, ἐξ ὧν ἐγένετο ζῶα νοερὰ, καὶ ἐκλήθη Ζωφασημὶν [Ζωφησαμιμ] τοῦτ’ ἔστιν οὐρανοῦ κατόπται. Καὶ ἀνεπλάσθη ὁμοίως [+ ὠοῦ, see Orr] σχήματι· καὶ ἐξέλαμψε Μὼτ ἥλιός τε καὶ σελήνη, ἀστέρες τε καὶ ἄστρα μεγάλα” ... “Καὶ τοῦ ἀέρος διαυχάσαντος, διὰ πύρωσιν καὶ τῆς θαλάσσης καὶ τῆς γῆς ἐγένετο πνεύματα, καὶ νέφη, καὶ οὐρανίων ὑδάτων μέγισται καταφοραὶ καὶ χύσεις. Καὶ ἐπειδὴ διεκρίθη, καὶ τοῦ ἰδίου τόπου διεχωρίσθη διὰ τὴν τοῦ ἡλίου πύρωσιν, καὶ πάντα συνήντησε πάλιν ἐν ἀέρι τάδε τοῖσδε, καὶ συνέῤῥαξαν· βρονταί τε ἀπετελέσθησαν καὶ ἀστραπαὶ, καὶ πρὸς τὸν πάταγον τῶν βροντῶν τὰ προγεγραμμένα νοερὰ ζῶα ἐγρηγόρησεν καὶ πρὸς τὸν ἦχον ἐπτύρη, καὶ ἐκινήθη ἔν τε γῇ καὶ θαλάσσῃ ἄῤῥεν καὶ θῆλυ.” ... Ἑξῆς τούτοις ὀνόματα τῶν ἀνέμων εἰπὼν, Νότου καὶ Βορέου, καὶ τῶν λοιπῶν, ἐπιλέγει· “Ἀλλ’ οὗτοί γε πρῶτοι ἀφιέρωσαν τὰ τῆς γῆς βλαστήματα, καὶ θεοὺς ἐνόμισαν, καὶ προσεκύνουν ταῦτα, ἀφ’ ὧν αὐτοί τε διεγίνοντο, καὶ οἱ ἑπόμενοι, καὶ οἱ πρὸ αὐτῶν πάντες, καὶ χοὰς καὶ ἐπιθύσεις ἐποίουν.” Καὶ ἐπιλέγει· “Αὗται δ’ ἦσαν αἱ ἐπίνοιαι τῆς προσκυνήσεως, ὅμοιαι τῇ αὐτῶν ἀσθενείᾳ, καὶ ψυχῆς ἀτολμίᾳ. Εἶτά φησι γεγενῆσθαι ἐκ τοῦ Κολπία ἀνέμου, καὶ γυναικὸς αὐτοῦ Βάαυ, τοῦτο δὲ νύκτα ἑρμηνεύειν, Αἰῶνα καὶ Πρωτόγονον θνητοὺς ἄνδρας, οὕτω καλουμένους.” ... [the sequel on page 124 below].

The other versions are from Eudemos (a pupil of Aristotle) and a native writer Mōchos: they are preserved in the following passage of Damascius (cap. 125; edited by Kopp, page 385):

Σιδώνιοι δὲ κατὰ τὸν αὐτὸν συγγραφέα (i.e. Eudemos) πρὸ πάντων Χρόνον ὑποτίθενται καὶ Πόθον καὶ Ὀμίχλην. Πόθου δὲ καὶ Ὀμίχλης μιγέντων ὡς δυοῖν ἀρχῶν Ἀέρα γενέσθαι καὶ Αὔραν, Ἀέρα μὲν ἄκρατον τοῦ νοητοῦ παραδηλοῦντες, Αὔραν δὲ τὸ ἐξ αὐτοῦ κινούμενον τοῦ νοητοῦ ζωτικὸν προτύπωμα. Πάλιν δὲ ἐκ τούτων ἀμφοῖν ὦτον [read ὠὸν] γεννηθῆναι κατὰ τὸν νοῦν οἶμαι τὸν νοητόν. Ὡς δὲ ἔξωθεν Εὐδήμου τὴν Φοινίκων εὑρίσκομεν κατὰ Μῶχον μυθολογίαν, Αἰθὴρ ἦν τὸ πρῶτον καὶ Ἀὴρ αἱ δύο αὗται ἄρχαι, ἐξ ὧν γεννᾶται Οὐλωμὸς, ὁ νοητὸς θεὸς, αὐτὸ οἶμαι τὸ ἄκρον τοῦ νοητοῦ· ἐξ οὗ ἑαυτῷ συνελθόντος γεννηθῆναί φησι Χουσωρὸν, ἀνοιγέα πρῶτον, εἶτα ὠόν· τοῦτον μὲν οἶμαι τὸν νοητὸν νοῦν λέγοντες, τὸν δὲ ἀνοιγέα Χουσωρὸν, τὴν νοητὴν δύναμιν ἅτε πρώτην διακρίνασαν τὴν ἀδιάκριτον φύσιν, εἰ μὴ ἄρα μετὰ τὰς δύο ἀρχὰς τὸ μὲν ἄκρον ἐστὶν ἄνεμος ὁ εἷς, τὸ δὲ μέσον οἱ δύο ἄνεμοι Λίψ τε καὶ Νότος· ποιοῦσι γάρ πως καὶ τούτους πρὸ τοῦ Οὐλωμοῦ· ὁ δὲ Οὐλωμὸς αὐτὸς ὁ νοητὸς εἴη νοῦς, ὁ δὲ ἀνοιγεὺς, Χουσωρὸς, ἡ μετὰ τὸ νοητὸν πρώτη τάξις, τὸ δὲ ὠὸν ὁ οὐρανός· λέγεται γὰρ ἐξ αὐτοῦ ῥαγέντος εἰς δύο, γενέσθαι οὐρανὸς καὶ γῆ, τῶν διχοτομημάτων ἑκάτερον.

5. A division of creation into six stages, in an order similar to that of Genesis 1, appears in the late book of the Bundehesh (the Parsee Genesis), where the periods are connected with the six annual festivals called Gahanbars, so as to form a creative year, parallel to the week of Genesis 1. The order is: 1. Heaven; 2. Water; 3. Earth; 4. Plants; 5. Animals; 6. Men. We miss from the enumeration: Light, which in Zoroastrianism is an uncreated element; and the Heavenly bodies, which are said to belong to an earlier creation (Tiele, Geschichte der Religion im Altertum, ii. 296). The late date of the Bundehesh leaves room, of course, for the suspicion of biblical influence; but it is thought by some that the same order can be traced in a passage of the younger Avesta, and that it may belong to ancient Iranian tradition (Tiele, l.c., and Archiv für Religionswissenschaft., vi. 244 ff.; Caland, Theologisch Tijdschrift, xxiii. 179 ff.).—The most remarkable of all known parallels to the six days’ scheme of Genesis is found in a cosmogony attributed to the ancient Etruscans by Suidas (Lexicon, s.v. Τυρρηνία). Here the creation is said to have been accomplished in six periods of 1000 years, in the following order: 1. Heaven and Earth; 2. the Firmament; 3. Sea and Water; 4. Sun and Moon; 5. Souls of Animals; 6. Man (see K. O. Müller, Die Etrusker, ii. 38; Das Alte Testament im Lichte des alten Orients², 154 f.). Suidas, however, lived not earlier than the 10th century A.D., and though his information may have been derived from ancient sources, we cannot be sure that his account is not coloured by knowledge of the Hebrew cosmogony.

II. 4b‒III. 24. The Creation and Fall of Man (Yahwist).

The passage forms a complete and closely articulated narrative,¹ of which the leading motive is man’s loss of his original innocence and happiness through eating forbidden fruit, and his consequent expulsion from the garden of Eden. The account of creation in 2^{4b ff.} had primarily, perhaps, an independent interest; yet it contains little that is not directly subservient to the main theme developed in chapter 3. It is scarcely to be called a cosmogony, for the making of ‘earth and heaven’ (2^4b) is assumed without being described; the narrative springs from an early phase of thought which was interested in the beginnings of human life and history, but had not advanced to speculation on the origin of heaven and earth (compare Frankenberg in Gunkel² 24). From chapter 1 it differs fundamentally both in its conception of the primal condition of the world as an arid, waterless waste (2^{5 f.}: contrast 1²), and in the order of creative works: viz. Man (⁷), Trees (⁹), Animals (^18‒20), Woman (^21‒23). Alike in this arrangement and in the supplementary features—the garden (^{8. 10 ff.}), the miraculous trees (^9b), the appointments regarding man’s position in the world (^15‒17), and the remarkable omissions (plants, fishes, etc.)—it is governed by the main episode to which it leads up (chapter 3), with its account of the temptation by the serpent (^1‒5), the transgression (^{6. 7}), the inquest (^8‒13), the sentences (^14‒19), and the expulsion from Eden (^22‒24).

¹ Compare especially 2^4bβ with 3^{19. 23}; 2^{9. 16 f.} with 3^{1‒5. 11. 17. 22}; 2^{8b. 15} with 3^{23 f.}; 2¹⁹ with 3^{1a. 14}; 2^21‒23 with 3¹²; (2²⁴ with 3^16b); 2²⁵} with 3^{7. 10 f.}.

The story thus summarised is one of the most charming idylls in literature: chapter 3 is justly described by Gunkel as the ‘pearl of Genesis.’ Its literary and æsthetic character is best appreciated by comparison with chapter 1. Instead of the formal precision, the schematic disposition, the stereotyped diction, the aim at scientific classification, which distinguish the great cosmogony, we have here a narrative marked by childlike simplicity of conception, exuberant though pure imagination, and a captivating freedom of style. Instead of lifting God far above man and nature, this writer revels in the most exquisite anthropomorphisms; he does not shrink from speaking of God as walking in His garden in the cool of the day (3⁸), or making experiments for the welfare of His first creature (2^{18 ff.}), or arriving at a knowledge of man’s sin by a searching examination (3^{9 ff.}), etc. While the purely mythological phase of thought has long been outgrown, a mythical background everywhere appears; the happy garden of God, the magic trees, the speaking serpent, the Cherubim and Flaming Sword, are all emblems derived from a more ancient religious tradition. Yet in depth of moral and religious insight the passage is unsurpassed in the Old Testament. We have but to think of its delicate handling of the question of sex, its profound psychology of temptation and conscience, and its serious view of sin, in order to realise the educative influence of revealed religion in the life of ancient Israel. It has to be added that we detect here the first note of that sombre, almost melancholy, outlook on human life which pervades the older stratum of Genesis 1‒11. Compare the characterisation in Wellhausen Prolegomena zur Geschichte Israels⁶ 302 ff.; Gunkel page 22 ff.

Source.—The features just noted, together with the use of the divine name יהוה, show beyond doubt that the passage belongs to the Yahwistic cycle of narratives (Yahwist). Expressions characteristic of this document are found in קדמת 2¹⁴, הפעם 2²³, מה־זאת 3¹³, ארור 3^{14. 17}, עצבון 3^{16. 17}, בעבור 3¹⁷; and (in contrast to Priestly-Code) יצר, ‘create,’ instead of ברא, חית השדה instead of ח׳ הארץ, נשמת חיים instead of רוח ח׳ (see on 7²²); and the constant use of accusative suffix to the verb.

Traces of Composition.—That the literary unity of the narrative is not perfect there are several indications, more or less decisive. (1) The geographical section 2^10‒14 is regarded by most critics (since Ewald) as a later insertion, on the grounds that it is out of keeping with the simplicity of the main narrative, and seriously interrupts its sequence. The question is whether it be merely an isolated interpolation, or an extract from a parallel recension. If the latter be in evidence, we know too little of its character to say that 2^10‒14 could not have belonged to it. At all events the objections urged would apply only to ^11‒14; and there is much to be said, on this assumption, for retaining ¹⁰ (or at least ^10a) as a parallel to verse ⁶ (Holzinger).—(2) A more difficult problem is the confusion regarding the two trees on which the fate of man depends, a point to which attention was first directed by Budde. According to 2^9b the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil grew together in the midst of the garden, and in 2¹⁷ the second alone is made the test of the man’s obedience. But chapter 3 (down to verse ²¹) knows of only one tree in the midst of the garden, and that obviously (though it is never so named) the tree of knowledge. The tree of life plays no part in the story except in 3^{22. 24}, and its sudden introduction there only creates fresh embarrassment; for if this tree also was forbidden, the writer’s silence about it in 2¹⁷ 3³ is inexplicable; and if it was not forbidden, can we suppose that in the author’s intention the boon of immortality was placed freely within man’s reach during the period of his probation? So far as the main narrative is concerned, the tree of life is an irrelevance; and we shall see immediately that the part where it does enter into the story is precisely the part where signs of redaction or dual authorship accumulate.—(3) The clearest indication of a double recension is found in the twofold account of the expulsion from Eden: 3^{23. 24}. Here ²² and ²⁴ clearly hang together; ²⁰ and ²¹ are as clearly out of their proper position; hence ²³ may have been the original continuation of ¹⁹, to which it forms a natural sequel. There is thus some reason to believe that in this instance, at any rate, the ‘tree of life’ is not from the hand of the chief narrator.—(4) Other and less certain duplicates are: 2⁶ ∥ 2^{10 (11‒14)} (see above), ^8a ∥ ^9a (the planting of the garden); and ^{8b 15a} (the placing of man in it); 2²³ ∥ 3²⁰ (the naming of the woman).—(5) Budde (Die biblische Urgeschichte 232 ff.) was the first to suggest that the double name יהוה אלהים (which is all but peculiar to this section) has arisen through amalgamation of sources. His theory in its broader aspects has been stated on page 3, above; it is enough here to point out its bearing on the compound name in Genesis 2 f. It is assumed that two closely parallel accounts existed, one of which (Yahwistᵉ) employed only אלהים, the other (Yahwistʲ) only יהוה. When these were combined the editor harmonised them by adding אלהים to יהוה everywhere in Yahwistʲ, and prefixing יהוה to אלהים everywhere in Yahwistᵉ except in the colloquy between the serpent and the woman (3^1‒5), where the general name was felt to be more appropriate.¹ The reasoning is precarious; but if it be sound, it follows that 3^1‒5 must be assigned to Yahwistᵉ; and since these verses are part of the main narrative (that which speaks only of the tree of knowledge), there remain for Yahwistʲ only 3^{22. 24}, and possibly some variants and glosses in the earlier part of the narrative.—On the whole, the facts seem to warrant these conclusions: of the Paradise story two recensions existed; in one, the only tree mentioned was the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, while the other certainly contained the tree of life (so van Doorninck, Theologisch Tijdschrift, xxxix. 225 f.) and possibly both trees;² the former supplied the basis of our present narrative, and is practically complete, while the second is so fragmentary that all attempt to reconstruct even its main outlines must be abandoned as hopeless.

¹ So Gunkel. A still more complete explanation of this particular point would be afforded by the somewhat intricate original hypothesis of Budde. He suggested that the primary narrative (Yahwist¹) in which יהוה was regularly used, except in 3^1‒5, was re-written and supplemented by Yahwist² who substituted אלהים for יהוה; the two narratives were subsequently amalgamated in rather mechanical fashion by Yahwist³, with the result that wherever the divine names differed both were retained, and where the documents agreed אלהים alone appears (Die biblische Urgeschichte 233 f.). Later in the volume (471 ff.) the hypothesis is withdrawn in favour of the view that Yahwist² contained no Paradise story at all.—A similar explanation is given by van Doorninck (l.c. 239), who thinks the retention of אלהים in 3^1‒5 was due to the redactor’s desire to avoid the imputation of falsehood to Yahwe!

² The point here depends on the degree of similarity assumed to have obtained between the two recensions. Gunkel, who assumes that the resemblance was very close, holds that in Yahwistʲ probably both trees were concerned in the fall of man. But the text gives no indication that in Yahwistʲ the knowledge of good and evil was attained by eating the fruit of a tree: other ways of procuring unlawful knowledge are conceivable; and it is therefore possible that in this version the tree of life alone occupied a position analogous to that of the tree of knowledge in the other (see, further, Gressmann, Archiv für Religionswissenschaft., x. 355 f.).

4b‒7. The creation of man.

On the somewhat involved construction of the section, see the footnote.—4b. At the time when Yahwe Elohim made, etc.] The double name יַהְוֶה אֱלֹהִים, which is all but peculiar to Genesis 2 f., is probably to be explained as a result of redactional operations (v.i.), rather than (with Reuss, Ayles, al.) as a feature of the isolated source from which these two chapters were taken.—earth and heaven] The unusual order (which is reversed by The Samaritan Recension of the Pentateuch, LXX, Peshiṭtå) appears again only in Psalms 148¹³.—5. there was as yet no bush, etc.] Or (on Dillmann’s construction) while as yet there was no, etc. The rare word שִׂיחַ denotes elsewhere (21¹⁵ [Elohist], Job.30^{4. 7}) a desert shrub (so Syrian, Arabic); but a wider sense is attested by Assyrian and Phœnician. It is difficult to say whether here it means wild as opposed to cultivated plants (Hupfeld, Gunkel), or perennials as opposed to annuals (Holzinger).—For the earth’s barrenness two reasons are assigned: (1) the absence of rain, and (2) the lack of cultivation. In the East, however, the essence of husbandry is irrigation; hence the two conditions of fertility correspond broadly to the Arabian (and Talmudic) contrast between land watered by the Baal and that watered by human labour (Robinson, Smend, Lectures on the Religion of the Semites², 96 ff.).—to till the ground] This, therefore, is man’s original destiny, though afterwards it is imposed on him as a curse,—an indication of the fusion of variant traditions. אֲדָמָה, both here and verse ⁶, has probably the restricted sense of ‘soil,’ ‘arable land’ (compare 4¹⁴).—6. but a flood (or mist, v.i.) used to come up (periodically)] “The idea of the author appears to be that the ground was rendered capable of cultivation by the overflow of some great river” (Ayles).

It is certainly difficult to imagine any other purpose to be served by the ‘flood’ than to induce fertility, for we can hardly attribute to the writer the trivial idea that it had simply the effect of moistening the soil for the formation of man, etc. (Rashi, al., compare Gunkel, Cheyne, Traditions and Beliefs of Ancient Israel, 87). But this appears to neutralise ^5bα, since rain is no longer an indispensable condition of vegetation. Holzinger, accordingly, proposes to remove ⁶ and to treat it as a variant of ^10‒14. The meaning might be, however, that the flood, when supplemented by human labour, was sufficient to fertilise the ’ădāmāh, but had, of course, no effect on the steppes, which were dependent on rain. The difficulty is not removed if we render ‘mist’; and the brevity of the narrative leaves other questions unanswered; such as, When was rain first sent on the earth? At what stage are we to place the creation of the cereals? etc.

If the above explanation be correct, there is a confusion of two points of view which throws an interesting light on the origin of the story. The rain is suggested by experience of a dry country, like Palestine. The flood, on the other hand, is a reminiscence of the entirely different state of things in an alluvial country like the Euphrates valley, where husbandry depends on artificial irrigation assisted by periodic inundations. While, therefore, there may be a Babylonian basis to the myth, it must have taken its present shape in some drier region, presumably in Palestine. To say that it “describes ... the phenomena witnessed by the first colonists of Babylonia,” involves more than ‘mythic exaggeration’ (Cheyne Encyclopædia Biblica, 949).

4b‒7. The sudden change of style and language shows that the transition to the Yahwistic document takes place at the middle of verse ⁴. The construction presents the same syntactic ambiguity as 1^1‒3 (see the note there); except, of course, that there can be no question of taking ^4b as an independent sentence. We may also set aside the conjecture (Wellhausen Prolegomena zur Geschichte Israels⁶ 297 f.; Kautzsch-Socin, al.) that the clause is the conclusion of a lost sentence of Yahwist, as inconsistent with the natural position of the time determination in Hebrew. ^4b must therefore be joined as protasis to what follows; and the question is whether the apodosis commences at ⁵ (Tuch, Strack, Driver, al.), or (with ^{5 f.} as a parenthesis) at ⁷ (Dillmann, Gunkel, al.). In syntax either view is admissible; but the first yields the better sense. The state of things described in ^{5 f.} evidently lasted some time; hence it is not correct to say that Yahwe made man at the time when He made heaven and earth: to connect ⁷ directly with ^4b is “to identify a period (verse ⁶) with a point (verse ⁷) of time” (Spurrell).—On the form of apodosis, see again Driver A Treatise on the use of the Tenses in Hebrew § 78.—4. בְּיוֹם always emphasises contemporaneousness of two events (compare 2¹⁷ 3⁵); the indefiniteness lies in the substantive, which often covers a space of time (= ‘when’: Exodus 6²⁸ 32³⁴, Jeremiah 11⁴ etc.).—יהוה אלהים] in Hexateuch only Exodus 9³⁰; elsewhere 2 Samuel 7^{22. 25}, Jonah 4⁶, Psalms 72¹⁸ 84^{9. 12}, 1 Chronicles 17¹⁶, 2 Chronicles 6⁴¹. LXX uses the expression frequently up to 9¹², but its usage is not uniform even in chapters 2. 3. The double name has sometimes been explained by the supposition that an editor added אלהים to the original יהוה in order to smooth the transition from Priestly-Code to Yahwist, or as a hint to the Synagogue reader to substitute אלהים for יהוה; but that is scarcely satisfactory. A more adequate solution is afforded by the theory of Budde and Gunkel, on which see page 53. Barton and Cheyne (Traditions and Beliefs of Ancient Israel, 99 f.) take it as a compound of the same type as Melek-Aštart, etc., an utterly improbable suggestion.—5. שיח is probably the same as Assyrian šiḫtu, from √ = ‘grow high’ (Delitzsch Assyrisches Handwörterbuch), and hence might include trees, as rendered by Peshiṭtå, Targum.—On עשב, see on 1¹¹. The genitive השדה, common to both, denotes open country, as opposed sometimes to cities or houses, sometimes to enclosed cultivated land (Delitzsch, 96).—On טֶרֶם with imperfect, see Gesenius-Kautzsch § 107 c; Driver, A Treatise on the use of the Tenses in Hebrew § 27 β. The rendering ‘before’ (LXX [one of the deviations mentioned in Mechilta—see on 1¹] Vulgate) would imply בְּטֶרֶם, and is wrong.—6. אֵד] LXX πηγή Aquila ἐπιβλυσμός, Vulgate fons, Peshiṭtå , Targum^Onkelos עננא. Cheyne conjecture יְאֹר; others עַיִן (after versions). The word has no etymology in Hebrew, and the only other occurrence (Job 36²⁷) is even more obscure than this. ‘Cloud’ (Targum) or ‘mist’ is a natural guess, and it is doubtful if it be anything better. The meaning ‘flood’ comes from Assyrian edû, applied to the annual overflow of a river (Delitzsch Assyrisches Handwörterbuch),—note the frequent imperfect. Gunkel thinks it a technical semi-mythological term of the same order as Tĕhôm, with which Rashi seems to connect it; while Abraham Ibn Ezra interprets ‘cloud,’ but confounds the word with אֵיד, ‘calamity’ (Zephaniah 1¹⁵); so Aquila, who renders the latter by ἐπιβλυσμός in Proverbs 1²⁶, Job 30¹² (see Bereshith Rabba § 13).—On the tenses, see Gesenius-Kautzsch § 112 e; Driver A Treatise on the use of the Tenses in Hebrew § 113, 4 (β).

7. Yahwe Elōhîm moulded man] The verb יָצַר (avoided by Priestly-Code) is used, in the participle, of the potter; and that figure underlies the representation. An Egyptian picture shows the god Chnum forming human beings on the potter’s disc (Das Alte Testament im Lichte des alten Orients², 146).—The idea of man as made of clay or earth appears in Babylonian; but is indeed universal, and pervades the whole Old Testament.—breath of life] Omit the article. The phrase recurs only 7²² (Yahwist), where it denotes the animal life, and there is no reason for supposing another meaning here. “Subscribere eorum sententiæ non dubito qui de animali hominis vita locum hunc exponunt” (Calvin).—man became a living being] נֶפֶשׁ here is not a constituent of human nature, but denotes the personality as a whole.

The verse has commonly been treated as a locus classicus of Old Testament anthropology, and as determining the relations of the three elements of human nature—flesh, soul, spirit—to one another. It is supposed to teach that the soul (נֶפֶשׁ) arises through the union of the universal life-principle (רוּחַ) with the material frame (בָּשָׂר): compare e.g. Grüneisen, Ahnenkultus, 34 f. No such ideas are expressed: neither בשר nor רוח is mentioned, while נפשׁ is not applied to a separate element of man’s being, but to the whole man in possession of vital powers. “All that seems in question here is just the giving of vitality to man. There seems no allusion to man’s immaterial being, to his spiritual element.... Vitality is communicated by God, and he is here represented as communicating it by breathing into man’s nostrils that breath which is the sign of life” (Davidson, The Theology of the Old Testament 194). At the same time, the fact that God imparts his own breath to man, marks the dignity of man above the animals: it is Yahwist’s equivalent for the ‘image of God.’

7. אדם ... אדמה] Both words are of uncertain etymology. The old derivation from the verb ‘be red’ (... πυῤῥόν· ἐπειδήπερ ἀπὸ τῆς πυῤῥᾶς γῆς φυραθείσης ἐγεγόνει: Josephus Antiquities of the Jews i. 34) is generally abandoned, but none better has been found to replace it (recent theories in Dillmann 53 f.). According to Nöldeke (Zeitschrift der deutschen morgenländischen Gesellschaft, xl. 722), אדם appears in Arabic as ’ānām (compare Haupt, ib. lxi. 194). Friedrich Delitzsch’s view, that both words embody the idea of tillage, seems (as Dillmann says) to rest on the ambiguity of the German bauen; but it is very near the thought of this passage: man is made from the soil, lives by its cultivation, and returns to it at death.—עפר] Accusative of material, Gesenius-Kautzsch § 117 hh. Gunkel regards it as a variant to האדמה from Yahwistʲ.—נפש חיה] This appears to be the only place where the phrase is applied to man; elsewhere to animals (1^{20. 24} etc.). נ׳, primarily ‘breath,’ denotes usually the vital principle (with various mental connotations), and ultimately the whole being thus animated—the person. The last is the only sense consistent with the structure of the sentence here.

8‒17. The garden of Eden.

That the planting of the garden was subsequent to the creation of man is the undoubted meaning of the writer; the rendering plantaverat (Vulgate: so Abraham Ibn Ezra) is grammatically impossible, and is connected with a misconception of מקדם below.—a garden in Eden] This is perhaps the only place where Eden (as a geographical designation) is distinguished from the garden (compare 2^{10. 15} 3^{23. 24} 4¹⁶, Isaiah 51³, Ezekiel 28¹³ 31^{9. 16. 18} 36³⁵, Joel 2³, Sirach 40²⁷). The common phrase גַּן עֵדֶן would suggest to a Hebrew the idea ‘garden of delight,’ as it is rendered by LXX (often) and Vulgate (v.i.). There is no probability that the proper name was actually coined in this sense. It is derived by the younger Delitzsch and Schrader from Babylonian edinu, ‘plain,’ ‘steppe,’ or ‘desert’ (Delitzsch Wo lag das Paradies? 80; Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament², 26 f.; Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament³, 539); but it is a somewhat precarious inference that the garden was conceived as an oasis in the midst of a desert (Holzinger).—מִקֶּדֶם] ‘in the (far) East’; i.e. from the Palestinian standpoint of the author; not, of course, to be identified with any other עֶדֶן within the geographical horizon of the Israelites (see 2 Kings 19¹² [= Isaiah 37¹²], Ezekiel 27²³, Amos 1⁵).

Besides the passages cited above, the idea of a divine garden appears also in Genesis 13¹⁰, Ezekiel 31⁸. Usually it is a mere symbol of luxuriant fertility, especially in respect of its lordly trees (Ezekiel 31^{8 f. 16. 18}); but in Ezekiel 28¹³ it is mentioned as the residence of a semi-divine being. Most of the allusions are explicable as based on Genesis 2 f.; but the imagery of Ezekiel 28 reveals a highly mythological conception of which few traces remain in the present narrative. If the idea be primitive Semitic (and גַּן is common to all the leading dialects), it may originate in the sacred grove (Hima) “where water and verdure are united, where the fruits of the sacred trees are taboo, and the wild animals are ’anīs, i.e. on good terms with man, because they may not be frightened away” (Wellhausen Prolegomena zur Geschichte Israels⁶ 303²; compare Reste arabischen Heidentums 141; Barton, A Sketch of Semitic Origins¹, 96). In early times such spots of natural fertility were the haunts of the gods or supernatural beings (Lectures on the Religion of the Semites², 102 ff.). But from the wide diffusion of the myth, and the facts pointed out on page 93 f. below, it is plain that the conception has been enriched by material from different quarters, and had passed through a mythological phase before it came into the hands of the biblical writers. Such sacred groves were common in Babylonia, and mythological idealisations of them enter largely into the religious literature (see Das Alte Testament im Lichte des alten Orients², 195 ff.).

8. גן] LXX παράδεισος (compare פרדס, Canticles 4¹³, Ecclesiastes 2⁵, Nehemiah 2⁸: probably from Persian), and so Vulgate, Peshiṭtå.—עֵדֶן] is regularly treated as a proper noun by Targum^Onkelos, Peshiṭtå, by Vulgate only 4¹⁶ (everywhere else as appellative: voluptas, deliciæ). LXX has Ἐδεμ only in 2^{8. 10} 4¹⁶; elsewhere τρυφή[ς], except Isaiah 51³ (παράδεισος).—מקדם] Literally ‘in front’ (on the מן see König Historisch-kritisches Lehrgebäude der hebräischen Sprache ii. page 318; Brown-Driver-Briggs, 578ᵇ): in the history books it always means ‘east’ or ‘eastward’; but in prophets and Psalms it usually has temporal sense (‘of old’); and so it is misunderstood here by all versions except LXX (Vulgate in principio, etc.).—9. כל־עץ] Gesenius-Kautzsch § 127 b.—הדעת] The use of article with infitive construct is very rare (Davidson § 19), but is explained by the frequent use of דעת as abstract noun. Otherwise the construction is regular, טוב ורע being accusative, not genitive of object.—Budde (Die biblische Urgeschichte 51 f.) objects to the splitting up of the compound object by the secondary predicate בתוך הגן, and thinks the original text must have been ובתוך הגן עץ הדעח וגו׳; thus finding a confirmation of the theory that the primary narrative knew of only one tree, and that the tree of knowledge (page 52; so Ball, Holzinger, Gunkel, al.). In view of the instances examined by Driver in Hebraica, ii. 33, it is doubtful if the grammatical argument can be sustained; but if it had any force it ought certainly to lead to the excision of the second member rather than of the first (Kuenen Theologisch Tijdschrift, 1884, 136; van Doorninck, ib., 1905, 225 f.; Eerdmans, ib. 494 ff.). A more important point is the absence of את before the definite object. The writer’s use of this participle is very discriminating; and its omission suggests that ^9b is really a nominal clause, as rendered above. If we were to indulge in analysis of sources, we might put ^9b (in whole or in part) after ^8a, and assign it to that secondary stratum of narrative which undoubtedly spoke of a tree of life (3²²).

9. all sorts of trees ... food] The primitive vegetation is conceived as consisting solely of trees, on whose fruit man was to subsist; the appearance of herbs is a result of the curse pronounced on the ground (3^{17 f.}).—and the tree of life (was) in the midst] On Budde’s strictures on the form of the sentence, v.i. The intricate question of the two trees must be reserved for separate discussion (pages 52 f., 94); for the present form of the story both are indispensable. The tree of life, whose fruit confers immortality (3²²; compare Proverbs 3¹⁸ 11³⁰ 13¹² 15⁴; further, Ezekiel 47¹², Revelation 22²), is a widely diffused idea (see Dillmann 49; Wünsche, Die Sagen vom Lebensbaum und Lebenswasser). The tree of knowledge is a more refined conception; its property of communicating knowledge of good and evil is, however, magical, like that of the other; a connexion with oracular trees (Lenormant, Les Origines de l’histoire i. 85 f.; Baudissin, Studien zur semitischen Religionsgeschichte ii. 227) is not so probable. As to what is meant by ‘knowing good and evil,’ see page 95 ff.

The primitive Semitic tree of life is plausibly supposed by Barton (A Sketch of Semitic Origins¹, 92 f.) to have been the date-palm; and this corresponds to the sacred palm in the sanctuary of Ea at Eridu (IV R. 15*), and also to the conventionalised sacred tree of the seals and palace-reliefs, which is considered to be a palm combined with some species of conifer. Compare also the sacred cedar in the cedar forest of Gilgamesh, Tablets IV. V. For these and other Babylonian parallels, see Das Alte Testament im Lichte des alten Orients², 195 ff.

10. a river issued (or issues) from Eden] The language does not necessarily imply that the fountain-head was outside the garden (Driver, Bennett); the verb יָצָא is used of the rise of a stream at its source (Exodus 17⁶, Numbers 20¹¹, Judges 15¹⁹, Ezekiel 47¹, Zechariah 14⁸, Joel 4¹⁸). Whether the participle expresses past or present time cannot be determined.—from thence it divides itself] The river issues from the garden as a single stream, then divides into four branches, which are the four great rivers of the world. The site of Paradise, therefore, is at the common source of the four rivers in question (page 62‒66 below). That is the plain meaning of the verse, however inconsistent it may be with physical geography.—11. Pîšôn] The name occurs (along with Tigris, Euphrates, Jordan, and Gihon) in Sirach 24²⁵, but nowhere else in Old Testament. That it was not a familiar name to the Hebrews is shown by the topographical description which follows. On the various speculative identifications, see Delitzsch and Dillmann, and page 64 f. below.—the whole land of Ḥăvîlāh] The phraseology indicates that the name is used with some vagueness, and considerable latitude. In 10^{7. 29} 25¹⁸ etc., Ḥavilah seems to be a district of Arabia (see page 202); but we cannot be sure that it bears the same meaning in the mythically coloured geography of this passage.—12. Two other products of the region are specified; but neither helps to an identification of the locality.—bĕdōlaḥ] a substance well known to the Israelites (Numbers 11⁷), is undoubtedly the fragrant but bitter gum called by the Greeks βδέλλιον or βδέλλα. Pliny (Naturalis Historia, xii. 35 f.) says the best kind grew in Bactriana, but adds that it was found also in Arabia, India, Media, and Babylonia.—the šōham stone] A highly esteemed gem (Job 28¹⁶), suitable for engraving (Exodus 28⁹ etc.), one of the precious stones of Eden (Ezekiel 28¹³), and apparently used in architecture (1 Chronicles 29²). From the Greek equivalents it is generally supposed to be either the onyx or the beryl (v.i.). According to Pliny, the latter was obtained from India, the former from India and Arabia (Naturalis Historia, xxxvii. 76, 86).—13. Gîḥôn] The name of a well on the East of Jerusalem (the Virgin’s spring: 1 Kings 1³³ etc.), which Abraham Ibn Ezra strangely takes to be meant here. In Jewish and Christian tradition it was persistently identified with the Nile (Sirach 24²⁷; LXX of Jeremiah 2¹⁸ [where שִׁחוֹר is translated Γηών]; Josephus Antiquities of the Jews i. 39, and the Fathers generally). The great difficulty of that view is that the Nile was as well known to the Hebrews as the Euphrates, and no reason appears either for the mysterious designation, or the vague description appended to the name.—land of Kûš] Usually Ethiopia; but see on 10⁶.—14. Ḥiddeḳel] is certainly the Tigris, though the name occurs only once again (Daniel 10⁴).—in front of ’Aššûr] Either between it and the spectator, or to the east of it: the latter view is adopted by nearly all commentaries; but the parallels are indecisive, and the point is not absolutely settled. Geographically the former would be more correct, since the centre of the Assyrian Empire lay East of the Tigris. The second view can be maintained only if אַשּׁוּר be the city which was the ancient capital of the Empire, now Ḳal‛at Šerḳāt on the West bank of the river. But that city was replaced as capital by Kalḫi as early as 1300 B.C., and is never mentioned in Old Testament. It is at least premature to find in this circumstance a conclusive proof that the Paradise legend had wandered to Palestine before 1300 B.C. (Gressmann, Archiv für Religionswissenschaft., x. 347).—Euphrates] The name (פְּרָת) needed no explanation to a Hebrew reader: it is the נָהָר par excellence of the Old Testament (Isaiah 8⁷ and often).

The site of Eden.—If the explanation given above of verse ¹⁰ be correct,—and it is the only sense which the words will naturally bear,—it is obvious that a real locality answering to the description of Eden exists and has existed nowhere on the face of the earth. The Euphrates and Tigris are not and never were branches of a single stream; and the idea that two other great rivers sprang from the same source places the whole representation outside the sphere of real geographical knowledge. In ^10‒14, in short, we have to do with a semi-mythical geography, which the Hebrews no doubt believed to correspond with fact, but which is based neither on accurate knowledge of the region in question, nor on authentic tradition handed down from the ancestors of the human race. Nevertheless, the question where the Hebrew imagination located Paradise is one of great interest; and many of the proposed solutions are of value, not only for the light they have thrown on the details of ^10‒14, but also for the questions they raise as to the origin and character of the Paradise-myth. This is true both of those which deny, and of those which admit, the presence of a mythical element in the geography of ^10‒14.

1. Several recent theories seek an exact determination of the locality of Paradise, and of all the data of ^10‒14, at the cost of a somewhat unnatural exegesis of verse ¹⁰. That of Friedrich Delitzsch (Wo lag das Paradies?, 1881) is based partly on the fact that North of Babylon (in the vicinity of Bagdad) the Euphrates and Tigris approach within some twenty miles of each other, the Euphrates from its higher level discharging water through canals into the Tigris, which might thus be regarded as an offshoot of it. The land of Eden is the plain (edinu) between the two rivers from Tekrit (on the Tigris: nearly a hundred miles North of Bagdad) and ‛Ana (on the Euphrates) to the Persian Gulf; the garden being one specially favoured region from the so-called ‘isthmus’ to a little South of Babylon. The river of verse ¹⁰ is the Euphrates; Pishon is the Pallakopas canal, branching off from the Euphrates on the right a little above Babylon and running nearly parallel with it to the Persian Gulf; Giḥon is the Shaṭṭ en-Nil, another canal running East of the Euphrates from near Babylon and rejoining the parent river opposite Ur; Ḥiddeḳel and Euphrates are, of course, the lower courses of the Tigris and Euphrates respectively, the former regarded as replenished through the canal system from the latter. Ḥavilah is part of the great Syrian desert lying West and South of the Euphrates; and Kush is a name for northern and middle Babylonia, derived from the Kaššite dynasty that once ruled there. In spite of the learning and ingenuity with which this theory has been worked out, it cannot clear itself of an air of artificiality at variance with the simplicity of the passage it seeks to explain. That the Euphrates should be at once the undivided Paradise-stream and one of the ‘heads’ into which it breaks up is a glaring anomaly; while verse ¹⁴ shows that the narrator had distinctly before his mind the upper course of the Tigris opposite Assur, and is therefore not likely to have spoken of it as an effluent of the Euphrates. The objection that the theory confuses rivers and canals is fairly met by the argument that the Babylonian equivalent of נָהָר is used of canals, and also by the consideration that both the canals mentioned were probably ancient river-beds; but the order in which the rivers are named tells heavily against the identifications. Moreover, the expression ‘the whole land of Ḥavilah’ seems to imply a much larger tract of the earth’s surface than the small section of desert enclosed by the Pallakopas; and to speak of the whole of northern Babylonia as ‘surrounded’ by the Shaṭṭ en-Nil is an abuse of language.—According to Sayce The Higher Criticism and the Verdict of the Monuments, 95 ff.; A Dictionary of the Bible, i. 643 f.), the garden of Eden is the sacred garden of Ea at Eridu; and the river which waters it is the Persian Gulf, on the shore of which Eridu formerly stood. The four branches are, in addition to Euphrates and Tigris (which in ancient times entered the Gulf separately), the Pallakopas and the Choaspes (now the Kerkha), the sacred river of the Persians, from whose waters alone their kings were allowed to drink (Herodotus i. 188). Besides the difficulty of supposing that the writer of verse ¹⁰ meant to trace the streams upwards towards their source above the garden, the theory does not account for the order in which the rivers are given; for the Pallakopas is West of Euphrates, while the Choaspes is East of the Tigris.¹ Further, although the description of the Persian Gulf as a ‘river’ is fully justified by its Babylonian designation as Nâr Marratum (‘Bitter River’), it has yet to be made probable that either Babylonians or Israelites would have thought of a garden as watered by ‘bitter’ (i.e. salt) water.—These objections apply with equal force to the theory of Hommel (Aufsätze und Abhandlungen arabistisch-semitologischen Inhalts, iii. 1, page 281 ff., etc., The Ancient Hebrew Tradition as illustrated by the Monuments, 314 ff.), who agrees with Sayce in placing Paradise at Eridu, in making the single stream the Persian Gulf, and one of the four branches the Euphrates. But the three other branches, Pishon, Giḥon, and Ḥiddeḳel, he identifies with three North Arabian wādīs,—Wadi Dawāsir, Wadi Rummā, and Wadi Sirhān (the last the ‘wādī of Diḳlah’ = ḫad-deḳel [see on verse ¹⁴ above], the name having been afterwards transferred to the Tigris).

¹ This objection is avoided by the modified theory of Dawson, who identifies Pishon with the Karun, still further East than the Kerkha. But that removes it from all connexion with Ḥavilah, which is one of the recommendations of Sayce’s view.

2. Since none of the above theories furnishes a satisfactory solution of the problem, we may as well go back to what appears the natural interpretation of verse ¹⁰, and take along with it the utopian conception of four great rivers issuing from a single source. The site of Paradise is then determined by the imaginary common source of the two known rivers, Euphrates and Tigris. As a matter of fact, the western arm of the Euphrates and the eastern arm of the Tigris do rise sufficiently near each other to make the supposition of a common source possible to ancient cosmography; and there is no difficulty in believing that the passage locates the garden in the unexplored mountains of Armenia. The difficulty is to find the Pishon and the Giḥon. To seek them amongst the smaller rivers of Armenia and Trans-Caucasia is a hopeless quest; for a knowledge of these rivers would imply a knowledge of the country, which must have dispelled the notion of a common source. Van Doorninck has suggested the Leontes and Orontes (Theologisch Tijdschrift, xxxix. 236), but a Hebrew writer must surely have known that these rivers rose much nearer home than the Euphrates and Tigris. There is more to be said for the opinion that they represent the two great Indian rivers, Ganges and Indus, whose sources must have been even more mysterious than those of the Euphrates and Tigris, and might very well be supposed to lie in the unknown region from Armenia to Turkestan.¹ The attraction of this view is that it embraces all rivers of the first magnitude that can have been known in western Asia (for, as we shall see, even the Nile is not absolutely excluded); and it is no valid objection to say that the Indian rivers were beyond the horizon of the Israelites, since we do not know from what quarter the myth had travelled before it reached Palestine. Yet I find no modern writer of note who accepts the theory in its completeness. Delitzsch and Dillmann identify the Pishon with the Indus, but follow the traditional identification of Giḥon with the Nile (see page 61 above). But if the biblical narrator believed the Nile to rise with Euphrates and Tigris, it is extremely likely that he regarded its upper waters as the Indus, as Alexander the Great did in his time;² and we might then fall back on the old identification of Pishon with the Ganges.³ But it must be admitted that the names Ḥavilah and Kush are a serious difficulty to this class of theories. The latter, indeed, may retain its usual Old Testament meaning if Giḥon be the upper Nile, either as a continuation of the Indus or a separate river; but if it be the Indus alone, Kush must be the country of the Kaššites, conceived as extending indefinitely East of Babylonia. Ḥavilah has to be taken as a name for India considered as an extension of North-east Arabia, an interpretation which finds no support in the Old Testament. At the same time, as Dillmann observes, the language employed (‘the whole land of Ḥavilah’) suggests some more spacious region than a limited district of Arabia; and from the nature of the passage we can have no certainty that the word is connected with the Ḥavilah of Genesis 10.—An interesting and independent theory, based on ancient Babylonian geographical documents, has been propounded by Haupt. The common source of the four rivers is supposed to have been a large (imaginary) basin of water in North Mesopotamia: the Euphrates and Tigris lose themselves in marshes; the Pishon (suggested by the Kerkha) is conceived as continued in the Nâr Marratum (Persian Gulf) and the Red Sea, and so ‘encompasses’ the whole of Ḥavilah (Arabia); beyond this there was supposed to be land, through which the Giḥon (suggested by the Karun) was supposed to reach Kush (Ethiopia), whence it flowed northwards as the Nile. The theory perhaps combines more of the biblical data in an intelligible way than any other that has been proposed; and it seems to agree with those just considered in placing the site of Eden at the common source of the rivers, to the North of Mesopotamia.⁴

¹ Strabo reports the belief of the ancients that all Indian rivers rise in the Caucasus (XV. 1. 13). The fact that in mediæval Arabian geographers Ǧeiḫun is a proper name of the Oxus and the Cilician Pyramus, and an appellative of the Araxes and the Ganges, might seem at first sight to have a bearing on the question at issue; but its importance is discounted by the possibility that the usage is based on this passage, due to Jewish and Christian influences in the Middle Ages.