Chapter X · THE TRADITION OF NOAH AND THE DELUGE

I now come to a different set of illustrations still more germane to my subject.

Calmet says:—“Plusieurs scavans out remarqué que les pagans ont confondu Saturne, Deucalion, Ogyges, le Dieu Cœlus ou Ouranus, Janus, Prothée, Prométhée, Virtumnus, Bacchus, Osiris, Vadimon, Nisuthrus avec Noë.”

I must add that this enumeration by no means exhausts the list. It is not my purpose, however, to pursue the subject in all its ramifications. I shall limit myself to the examination of one or two of these counterparts of Noah.

I. And in the first place, “Him of mazy counsel, Saturn,” the expression of Hesiod (τ’ Ιαπετον τε ιδε Κρονον ἀγκὔλομήτην), Hesiod. Theog. v. 19, which so well befits the intermediary between God and the survivors of the Deluge. “Under Saturn,” as Plutarch tells us, “was the golden age.” Calmet says (Dict. “Saturne”), “Quant aux traits de ressemblance qui se trouvent entre Noë et Saturne, ils ne peuvent être plus sensibles.[167] Il (Saturne) est représenté avec une faulx comme inventeur de l’agriculture[168]: Noë est nommé ‘vir agricola’ (Gen. ix. 20) et il est dit qu’il commença à cultiver la terre. Les Saturnales, qu’on célébrait dans le vin et dans la licence et où les serviteurs s’égaloient à leurs maitres—marquent l’ivresse de Noë et sa malédiction qui assujettit Chanaan à ses frères tout égal qu’il leur étoit par sa naissance.” [I have little doubt that this Bacchanalian recollection originated the tradition of the equality of conditions in the golden age, contrary to the facts of Scripture and history.] “On disoit que Noë avait dévoré tous ses enfans à l’exception de Jupiter, de Neptune, et de Pluton. Noë vit périr dans les eaux du déluge tous les hommes de son temps dont plusieurs étoient ses parents et plus jeunes que lui. Dans la stile de l’écriture on dit souvent que l’on fait ce qu’on n’empêche pas, ou même ce que l’on prédit.” Further resemblances are traced in Calmet.

Now, I find in Sanchoniathon,[169] i.e. in the most ancient Phœnician historian, a tradition running exactly parallel with this Greek tradition as interpreted by Calmet:—“Ces genies, ces sages, ces dieux, nous expliquent les autres dieux qui, d’après Berose, forment l’homme du sang de Bélus, et tous les dieux que Sanchoniaton nous représente saisis d’épouvante à la vue de Saturne, faisant périr par le déluge son fils Sadid.”—(Le Peuple Primitif; Rougemont, i. 303, quoted by Gainet, iii. 561, with reference to the worship of spirits.) I adduce it in evidence of the connection in tradition between Saturn and the Deluge, and in corroboration of Calmet’s interpretation, which clears the Greek myth of what is grotesque and repulsive in it.

If I have sufficiently identified Saturn with Noah and the period of the Deluge, the lines of Virgil (Æneid, 8th Book, 315), besides bearing testimony in the same direction, appear to me to acquire a new meaning and significance:—

Allowing for the confusion incidental to the deification of Noah in the person of Saturn, which necessitates his descent from heaven, the rest of the verses seem merely to describe what is recorded in tradition, if not implied in the scriptural narrative, that Noah, a voyager and exile, his possessions having been lost in the Flood, flying the wrath—not indeed as directed against himself, but the consequences of the wrath of the Almighty[171]—persuaded the survivors of the Flood to abandon the mountains, to which they clung in fear of a second Deluge, and brought them into the plains, incited and encouraged by his example,—he who, if he be the same (vide supra, 208, 209) with Nin and Nebo, we have seen called “the sustainer,” “the supporter,” “he who strengthens the hearts of his followers,” who taught them the cultivation of the soil, and of whom it is now said more distinctly than we have seen it heretofore stated, legesque dedit.[172]

There is no doubt much that is monstrous and grotesque in the classical conception of Saturn, but I must again suggest that as all traditions met in Noah, and were tradited through him, we must not be surprised to find all antediluvian traditions confused in Noah. Thus even the tradition of Lamech, which we have seen (vide supra, 178) variously distorted in the legends of Perseus and Œdipus, are again repeated in the legends of Saturn.

There are, no doubt, also divers astral complications arising out of Saturn’s place in the planetary system. When, however, we are told that Saturn was son of Cœlus and Tellus or Cœlus and Vesta,[173] the same as Terra (Montfauçon), it seems to occur to us, as a thing “qui saute aux yeux,” that this was only a mode of expressing a truth, applicable to all men in general, and Saturn as a primal progenitor in particular, and having reference to the composite nature of man; in other words, that this was simply the tradition which Noah would have handed down that he was created,[174] as were all other men, out of the earth, yet with something ethereal in his composition which came direct from the Deity. What the astral explanation may be I am at a loss to imagine. It cannot by any possibility be supposed to have reference to their relative positions in the heavens.

I shall return to Saturn, under the representation of Oceanus, when I come to speak of Janus.

II. Bacchus.—The Saturnalia may be taken as the connecting link between Saturn and Bacchus, and I think that it is sufficiently remarkable that there should be this link of connection.

But as the legends of Saturn are not all derived from Noah, so neither do all the traditions concerning Bacchus appertain to Saturn. I shall simply separate and note such as appear to me to be in common, e.g. “that Bacchus found out the making of wine, the art of planting trees, and many things else commodious for mankind.” [“And Noah, a husbandman, began to till the ground, and planted a vineyard, and drinking the wine was made drunk,” Gen. ix. 20.][175] It is said there were several Bacchuses. This may be only a reduplication, such as we have seen in the case of Oannes, Nin, and Nebo, or as in the multiplications of Jupiter. “Joves omnes reges vocarunt antiqui.”[176]

On this subject Montfauçon says (i. 155)[177] apropos of a point to which I shall again refer, viz. that Bacchus was Tauricornis.

“Diodorus Siculus says that the horns are only ascribed to the second Bacchus, the son of Jupiter and Proserpine; but these distinctions of various Bacchus were minded only in the more ancient times, hardly known in their worship.... This will also hold good of most of the other gods who were multiplied in the same manner.”

Vicomte d’Anselme (Gainet, i. 224), asks with reference to his Greek name of Dionysius, “Pourquoi les Grecs donnaient-ils le nom de Dionysos ou de divin Noush (dios nous ou Noë) à l’inventeur du vin?”—Vide supra, ch. ix.; vide also Gainet, i. 225.

Bacchus is by some called “Tauricornis” (compare supra, p. 203, Nin) “or Bucornis, and moreover he is frequently so represented,” (i.e. not only with the horn in hand, a “bull’s horn,” as he is sometimes, which might be a drinking horn or cornucopia, in its way emblematical of the vir agricola”), “but also with horns on the head. Horace calls him “Bicorniger,” Orpheus, Βουκερως; Nicander, Ταυροκερως.“—Montfauçon, i. 147, 155; comp. p. 204, note to “Nin.”

One Bacchus, Cicero tells us, “was King of Asia and author of the Laws called Subazian.”—Montfauçon, i. 144. It is, moreover, said that Bacchus travelled through all nations as far as India,[178] doing good in all places, and teaching many things profitable to the life of man. His conquests are said to have been easy and without bloodshed. But it is also noted that amidst his benevolence to mankind, he was relentless in punishing all want of respect for his divinity, and indeed the conduct and punishment of Chanaan may be said to be narrated in the history of Pentheus.—Vide Montf. i. 161.[179]

III. Janus.—Janus represented the most ancient tradition of Noah in Italy; subsequent migrations brought in the legend of Saturn, and thus we find them variously confounded—Saturn sometimes figuring as his guest, sometimes as his son, sometimes as his colleague on the throne. Like Saturn he appears as double-headed or bifrons, he is said to have introduced civilisation among the wild tribes of Italy, and under him, as under Saturn, there appears to have been a golden age.

I have made reference to Saturn as Oceanus (vide Montfauçon, i. 5), and as Oceanus his representations are very remarkable. In one he appears as an old man sitting on the waves of the sea, with a sea monster on one side of him, and his spear or rod in his hand. In another as sitting on the waves of the sea with ships about him; he is “holding an urn and pours out water, the symbol of the sea, and also of rivers and fountains.”

But Janus is also represented in his medals “with a prow of a ship on the reverse,” and he is said to have first invented crowns, ships, and boats, and to have coined the first money.

“According to the accounts of mythologists,” says Macrobius, “all families in the time of Janus were full of religion and holiness.” “Xenon says he was the first that built temples and instituted sacred rites,” and was therefore always mentioned at the beginning of sacrifices.

With reference to his description as “bifrons,” Macrobius says (some say) he was so called “because he knew the past and future things.... Some pretend to prove that Janus is the Sun, and that he is represented with two faces, because he is master of the two doors[180] of heaven, and opens the day at his rising and shuts it at his setting.”

A good secondary explanation is,[181] that “as Janus always began the year” (whence January) “the two heads do look on and import the old and new year” but then occurs the question—and this is why I submit that it is only a secondary explanation—how came Janus to commence the year?

In the nomenclature of the calendar connected with any system of hero worship, worship of ancestors, or even spirit worship, who more fitly chosen to commence the year than Janus, supposing him to be Noah?

There are, however, two what we may call primary explanations, and we must take our choice. The epithet is either applied to him, as exactly according with the reminiscence of Noah, who was pre-eminently acquainted with the past and the future; or we can take the astral explanation that Janus was called Bifrons,[182] because he opened the sun at his rising and shut it at his setting. As a symbol of Noah this double head appears to me very simple and natural, Noah forming the connecting link between the antediluvian and modern worlds; but as applied to the Sun or to Janus as in relation to the Sun, even allowing for personification, this twofold head of man strikes me as incongruous in the extreme. Besides, if it be allowed that it might apply to Saturn and Janus through the connecting idea of Chronos, how does it apply to Bacchus? Let us press this argument further. Here is a symbol common to Bacchus, Saturn, and Janus, and combining harmoniously in each instance with the representation of Noah. Can this symbol, common to these three, combine even congruously with any solar or astral legend? I have somewhere seen it noted as suspicious and as tending to confirm the solar theory that these mythological personages all “journey from east to west, and meet their fate in the evening.” But is this so? Have we not just seen that Bacchus, according to mythology, travelled from the west into India?

But not only were Saturn, Janus, and Bacchus represented as “bifrons,” but so also was Cecrops. Cecrops will present a difficulty the more in the way of any solar theory; but Cecrops,[183] like all founders or supposed founders of states, has something in common with Noah. Like Saturn and Janus in Italy, Cecrops was said to have brought the population of Attica into cities, to have given them laws, taught them the worship of the idols, planted the olive, and finally, was represented as half man, half serpent.[184]

To return to Janus. Before concluding I must note that Janus is called Eanus by Cicero, which may perhaps have analogy with “Hea and Hoa” (ch. ix., and with Eannes and “Oannes,” although Cicero derives it from “eundo.”

Janus was also called “consivius a conserendo,” because he presided over generation, a title singularly appropriate to Noah as the second founder of the race, and through whom the injunction was given “to increase and multiply.”[185] He is moreover called “Quirinus or Martialis,” “because he presided over war,” which is precisely the aspect under which it is the original and main purpose of this dissertation to consider Noah; and here I think I am entitled to urge, that if I have succeeded on other grounds in showing that Nin, Hoa, Janus, &c., represented Noah, then that these epithets, “Quirinus,” “Martialis,” “King of Battle,” &c., can only be applied to him whose conquests were bloodless in the sense of controlling and regulating war.[186] In connection with this title of “Martialis,” as applied to Janus—and, by the by, all the traditions concerning him are altogether peaceful and bloodless—it will be remembered that his temple was open in war and shut in peace, and closed for the third and last time at the moment of the birth of our Lord.

His name was also invoked first in religious ceremonies, “because, as presiding over armies,” &c., through him only could prayers reach the immortal gods. Is not this a reminiscence of the communications of the Almighty to man through Noah?

IV. Ogyges and Deucalion.—I might pass over these traditions of Noah, since, having reference only to the fact of the Deluge and the personality of Noah, they will not furnish matter for the special purpose of this inquiry; but on these grounds the investigation may be justified, and moreover seems necessary, for the completion of this chapter, and to indicate the independent source and derivation of the classical tradition.

It appears to me manifest that the deluges of Ogyges and Deucalion were neither locally historical nor partial deluges, but merely the reminiscences of the universal Deluge. Of the universal Deluge, whether we call it the Mosaic Deluge or not, there is evidence and tradition in all parts of the world; though in every instance it is localised in its details and its history of the survivors.[187]

Since, however, there is nothing to be said against the possibility of subsequent partial inundations, there will, I suppose, always be found persons ready to maintain that the deluges of Ogyges and Deucalion were partial and historical; although I submit that the arguments which were formerly used to prove the priority of Ogyges to Deucalion, and the posteriority of both to the general Deluge, turned upon points of chronology which will hardly be sustained at the present day.

If, however, I can succeed in showing that the deluge of Deucalion is identical with the deluge of Noah, I shall consider that I shall have also proved the point for the deluge of Ogyges, which all agree to have been much older!

The following is Mr Grote’s narrative collating the different traditions respecting the deluge of Deucalion:—

“Deukalion is important in Grecian mythical narration under two points of view. First, he is the person specially saved at the time of the general deluge; next, he is the father of Hellên, the great eponym of the Hellenic race; at least that was the more current story, though there were other statements which made Hellên the son of Zeus.” [This was merely the incipient process of the apotheosis of their more immediate founder.] “The enormous iniquity with which the earth was contaminated, as Apollodorus says, by the then existing brazen race, or, as others say, by the fifty monstrous sons of Sykorôn, provoked Zeus to send a general deluge.” “The latter account is given by Dionys. Halic. i. 17; the former seems to have been given by Hellenikus, who affirmed that the ark after the Deluge stopped upon Mount Othrys, and not upon Mount Parnassus (Schol. Pind. ut supra), the former being suitable for a settlement in Thessaly.” [I have already pointed out how the general tradition is everywhere localised.] “An unremitting and terrible rain laid the whole of Greece under water except the highest mountain-tops, where a few stragglers found refuge. Deukalion was saved in a chest or ark, which he had been forewarned by his father Prometheus to construct. After he had floated for nine days on the water, he at length landed on the summit of Mount Parnassus. Zeus hearing, sent Hermes to him, promising to grant whatever he asked. He prayed that men and companions might be sent him in his solitude: accordingly Zeus directed both him and Pyrrha to cast stones over their heads, those cast by Pyrrha became women, those by Deukalion men. And thus the ‘stony race of men’ (if we may be allowed to translate an etymology which the Greek language presents exactly, and which has not been disdained by Hesiod, by Pindar, by Epicharmes, and by Virgil), came to tenant the soil of Greece. Deukalion on landing from the ark sacrificed a grateful offering to Zeus Phyxios, or the God of Escape; he also erected altars in Thessaly to the twelve great gods of Olympus. The reality of this deluge was firmly believed throughout the historical ages of Greece (localising it, however, and post-dating it to 1528 B.C.) Statements founded upon this event were in circulation throughout Greece even to a very late date. The Magarians ... and in the magnificent temple of the Olympian Zeus at Athens, a cavity in the earth was shown, through which it was affirmed that the water of the Deluge had retired. Even in the time of Pausanias the priests poured into this cavity holy offerings of meal and honey. In this, as in other parts of Greece, the idea of the Deukalionian deluge was blended with the religious impressions of the people, and commemorated by their most sacred ceremonies.”—Grote’s “History of Greece,” vol. i. ch. v. 132, 133, “The Deluge.”[188]

Mr Max Müller (comp. “Myth.,” “Chips.,” ii. 12), incidentally speaking of the legend of Deucalion, treats it with great contempt. “What is more ridiculous,” he says, “than the mythological account of the creation of the human race by Deucalion and Pyrrha throwing stones behind them (a myth which owes its origin to a mere pun on λαός and λᾶας).” And ridiculous it certainly is from any point of view from which Mr Max Müller could regard it, i.e. either as the invention of a mythic period, or as a fugitive allegory arising out of some astral or solar legend: per contra, I shall submit that there is nothing forced in supposing that this legend arose out of some one of the processes of corruption to which all tradition is prone, of the known fact that the human race was re-propagated by Deucalion or Noah.[189] If I am asked to explain how it came about that there should have been this identity between the word for a “man” and a “stone,” I must simply confess my ignorance. Perhaps if Mr Max Müller could be brought to look at things more from the point of view of biblical traditions, he might be enabled to see it. All that I can suggest is, that perhaps it may have a common origin with that Homeric expression quoted by Mr Max Müller at p. 175 (vide supra), “Thou art not sprung from the olden tree or from the rock.” I consider that I shall definitely establish, however, that it originates in a tradition and not “a mere pun,” and at any rate that it is not local, it is not Greek. It is no doubt singular that the word for man, λαός, populus, should so closely resemble the word for a stone, λᾶας; but not only is this coincidence found in the Greek, but we shall see that it is widely spread in all parts of the world. In proof, I adduce the following extract from Dr Hooker’s inaugural lecture at Norwich in 1868, (since the publication of Mr Max Müller’s work):—

“It is a curious fact that the Khasian word for a stone, ‘man,’ as commonly occurs in the names of their villages and places as that of man, maen, and men does in those of Brittany, Wales, Cornwall, &c.; thus Mansmai signifies in Khasia the Stone of Oath; Manloo, the Stone of Salt; Manflong, the Grassy Stone; and just as in Wales Pen mæn maur signifies the Hill of the Big Stone; and in Britanny a Menhir is a standing stone, and a Dolmen a table stone,” &c.[190]

Here it is seen that the word for stone in these respective places is the same with our word “man” it is not specifically said that the word would carry this sense also in the places indicated, but I infer it from the analogy which runs through homo, homme, and by a connection of ideas through the Greek ὠμός to the Sanscrit—thus “âma-ad” (ὠμος-εδω]), are names applied “in the Sanscrit” to “barbarians” who are cannibals. (Max Müller, ii. p. 44.) And I am not sure that Mr Max Müller does not say so directly, in reference to the word “Brahman,” for although the word originally is said to mean power (i. 363), yet “another word with the accent on the last syllable, is Brahmán, the man who prays.”—Max Müller, i. 72.[191]

Also Kenrick (“Essay on Primæval History,” p. 59), “Thus the Hindus attribute the origin of their institutions and race to Manu, whose name is equivalent to man. The Germans made Tuisto (Teutsch) and his son Mannus to be the origin and founder of their nation.” Also Sir W. Jones’ “Asiat. Res.” i. 230; Rawlinson’s “Bamp. Lect.” lect. ii. 67:—“From Manu the earth was re-peopled, and from him mankind received their name Manudsha.”

Gainet (i. 170) says:—“The stones changed then into men by Deucalion and Pyrrha, are they not their children according to nature? In Syriac the word ‘Eben’ signifies equally a child and a stone. In spite of these confusions their accounts of the Deluge are striking as well on account of their resemblance, as on account of their universality, as the reader will soon be able to convince himself.”—Vide Gainet, i. 167.[192]

But if the whole human race were re-propagated by Deucalion and Pyrrha, how are we to locate the anterior legend of Ogyges, occurring among the same people? It is barely possible that the memory of a long antecedent and partial deluge may have remained in the memories of the survivors of the subsequent and universal calamity, but the much more reasonable conjecture seems to be that it was by a different channel the reminiscence of the same event. It must be remembered that it was the Ogygian deluge which was said to have been partial and to have inundated Attica. The deluge of Deucalion by all accounts, except by Pindar, was considered to have been universal, and corresponds in its details with Mosaic accounts, e.g. it was universal, covering the tops of the highest mountains; it was caused by the depravity of mankind; the single pair who were saved, were saved in a ship or an ark, and floated many days on the waters. In the end, they settled on the top of a mountain, went to consult the oracle (as Noah is said to have sacrificed and to have had communications with God), and re-peopled the earth. The version of Lucian gives particulars which brings the tradition to almost exact correspondence. Deucalion and his wife were saved (on account of their rectitude and piety) together with his sons and their wives. He was accompanied into the ark by the pigs, horses, lions, and serpents, who came to him in pairs. If the account of Lucian is somewhat recent, on the other hand it is the account of a professed scoffer, and moreover, shows what I do not remember to have seen noted from this point of view that the tradition was common to Syria as well as Greece.

This brings us to the contrary, but, as it appears to me, much less formidable objection—bearing in mind that the tradition of the Deluge is common to Mexico, India, China, the islands of the Pacific, &c. &c.—viz. that the tradition came to Greece from Asia.

This is Mr Kenrick’s objection[193] (vide Preface to Grote’s “History of Greece,” 2d ed.) The most direct, and, as it appears to me, sufficient answer, seems to be that it was necessarily so; since, ex hypothesi, the population itself came to Greece from Asia. Mr Kenrick says, “It is doubtful whether the tradition of Deucalion’s flood is older than the time when the intercourse with Greece began to be frequent,” i.e. about the fifth century B.C. (p. 31.) But as the Septuagint, according to Mr Kenrick himself, could not have influenced Greece till the third century, this tradition can only have been the primeval tradition. Mr Kenrick is a fair opponent, and I must do him the justice to add that he repudiates the Voltairean suggestion that this tradition originated in a Hebrew invention. If then the inhabitants of Greece, who came originally from Asia, had not the tradition, or had it imperfectly, when they arrived, it can only have been because they had lost it; but as admittedly they recovered it at a later period, the presumption, even on this showing, is, at least for those who can realise how difficult it would be to make a pure fiction, as distinguished from a corrupt tradition, run current, more especially among different nationalities and during a lengthened period,—that when circumstances brought them again into contact with Asia, they added fresh incidents, only because they found the tradition fresher there than among themselves. Voila tout! for Mr Kenrick’s whole argument depends entirely upon this—that “as we reach the time when the Greeks enjoyed more extensive and leisurely communication with Asia, through the conquests of Alexander ... we find new circumstances introduced into the story which assimilates it more closely to the Asiatic tradition.”

It has been allowed (vide supra) that the tradition of Deucalion is as old as the fifth century B.C., and, not to speak of the deluge of Ogyges, connected with what was earliest in Grecian history, the following passage from Kenrick seems to me in evidence of long antecedent traditions among the Greeks themselves, which they must have brought with them originally from Asia.[194]

Mr Kenrick says (p. 31):—

“The account of Deucalion, given by Apollodorus (i. 7, 2), bears evident marks of being compounded of two fables originally distinct, in one of which, and probably the older, the descent of the Hellenes was traced through Deucalion to Prometheus and Pandora, without mention of a deluge. In the other, the destruction of the brazen race by a flood, the re-peopling the earth by the casting of stones, is related in the common way. That these two narratives cannot originally have belonged to the same myths is evident from their incongruity; for as mankind were created by Prometheus, the father of Deucalion, there was no time for them to have passed through those stages of degeneracy by which they reached the depravity of the brazen age.”

Here are evidently two early traditions, ostensibly Greek, distinct, it is true, yet perfectly compatible. The one the tradition of Grecian descent through Noah to Adam and Eve, the other the tradition of the Deluge. But after what we have already seen (vide supra, pp. 157, 158) of reduplications and inversions, can a serious argument be based upon the expression that Deucalion (Noah) was the son of Prometheus (Adam)?[195] Is it not a most natural and inevitable façon-de-parler to connect the descendant directly and immediately with his remote ancestor, e.g. “Fils de St Louis—fils de Louis Capet—montez au ciel!”

I do not of course attempt, within this narrow compass, to grasp Mr Kenrick’s entire view. I am merely dealing with the special argument; but it is curious to note how the line of reasoning adopted by Mr Kenrick, whilst it sustains the Greek traditions, as traditions (though not Greek), unconsciously neutralises the arguments which would dispose of the testimonies derived from them, by saying that they were not traditions of a general, but of a local and a partial deluge.

These latter arguments appear to have had weight with one against whom I hardly venture to run counter, Frederick Schlegel (“Phil. of Hist.” p. 79)—“The irruption of the Black Sea into the Thracian Bosphorus is regarded by very competent judges in such matters as an event perfectly historical, or at least, from its proximity to the historical times, as not comparatively of so primitive a date.” Compare with passage from Mr Kenrick.[196] Schlegel adds:—“All these great physical changes are not necessarily and exclusively to be ascribed to the last general Deluge. The presumed irruption of the Mediterranean into the ocean, as well as many other mere partial revolutions in the earth and sea, may have occurred much later, and quite apart from this great event” (p. 79). But it may also have occurred much earlier, as is clear from the following passage from Schlegel, to which I wish to direct the attention of geologists, and in which Schlegel speaks according to the original insight of his own mind, and not in deference to the opinions of others:—

“These words (‘the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; but the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters,’ Gen. x.), which announce the presage of a new morn of Creation, not only represent a darker and wilder state of the globe, but very clearly show the element of water to be still in predominant force. Even the division of the elements, of the waters above the firmament, and of the waters below it, on the second day of creation, the permanent limitation of the sea for the formation and visible appearance of the dry land, necessarily imply a mighty revolution in the earth, and afford additional proof that the Mosaic history speaks not only of one but of many catastrophes of nature, a circumstance that has not been near enough attended to in the geological interpretation and illustration of the Bible.”—Schlegel, p. 82.

The point that is material to this discussion is to decide whether or not those disruptions in Thrace are historical and subsequent to the Deluge. Now, here Mr Kenrick’s main theory, that “speculation is the source of tradition,” comes in with fatal effect to dispose of the arguments I am combating, and yet in no way at this point militates against the view I am urging, that these supposed inundations were localisations of the tradition of the general Deluge which the Pelasgi brought with them from Asia.

Mr Kenrick says (p. 36):—

“It was a λογος, a popular legend, among the Greeks, that Thessaly had once been a lake, and that Neptune had opened a passage for the waters through the vale of Tempe (Herod. 7, 129). The occupation of the banks of the rivers of this district by the Pelasgi tribes, which must have been subsequent to the opening of the gorge, is the earliest fact in Greek history, and the ‘logos’ itself no doubt originated in a very simple speculation. The sight of a narrow gorge, the sole outlet of the waters of a whole district, naturally suggests the idea of its having once been closed, and, as the necessary consequence, the inundation of the whole region which it now serves to drain.”

Now, if this reasoning is just, it seems to establish two things pretty conclusively: First, That the current legend among the Greeks was not the tradition of a local deluge; but, if not a reminiscence, was at any rate the observation of the evidences of a deluge previous to their arrival. Moreover, the deluge of their tradition exceeding the actual facts is in evidence of their recollection of an event adequate to such effects. Second, That the tradition, if it arose out of a speculation, must have arisen out of a speculation made in the earliest commencement of Greek history.

It is difficult to reconcile the latter conclusion with Mr Kenrick’s view that the tradition was imported from Asia in the fifth century B.C.

It is impossible to reconcile the former with the acceptation of a local and historical inundation in the time of the Ogyges and Deucalion of popular history.

This digression on the legend of Deucalion has led me away from what is properly the subject-matter of this inquiry; and I therefore propose now to summarise the results of the last two chapters. To pursue the tradition of Noah in all its ramifications would extend the inquiry beyond the scope which is necessary for the purposes of my argument. It will have been seen, I think, that my object has not been merely antiquarian research. I have sought to bring into prominence the reminiscences of Noah, which recall him at any rate as the depository of the traditions, if not the expositor of the science of mankind, as the channel, if not the fountain-head, of law, which thus became the law of nations—as the intermediary through whom the communications of the Most High passed to mankind, and under whose authority mankind held together during some three hundred years.[197]

Let me collect more directly and more fully the epithets in this sense which are dispersed in the above traditions.

We have seen that Calmet properly identifies Saturn with Noah; that according to Virgil and Plutarch “under Saturn was the golden age” Saturn of whom Hesiod says:—“Him of mazy counsel, Saturn” that in the tradition, as we see it in Virgil, he is described as bringing his scattered people into social life, and the noticeable phrase is used legesque dedit;[198] that in Bacchus, directly connected with Saturn through the Saturnalia, we also see much in his characteristics in common with Saturn, all which equally identifies him with Noah; and Bacchus, as we are told by Cicero, was the author of the “laws called Subazian.”[199] In Janus, too, we find great resemblances to Saturn, and in the very respects which would identify him with Noah. Under Janus as under Saturn was the golden age, and it is added that in the time of Janus, “all families were full of religion and holiness,” and although his rule is described as singularly peaceful, he is called Quirinus and Martialis, as presiding over war. The closing and opening of his temple, too, had a conspicuous and direct connection with peace and war.

If we turn back to the mythological prototypes in Assyria we find him as Hoa in connection with “the mystic animal, half-man half-fish, which came up from the Persian Gulf to teach astronomy and letters to the first settlers on the Euphrates and Tigris,” himself “known to the first settlers” he is called “the intelligent guide, or, according to another interpretation, the intelligent fish,” “the teacher of mankind,” “the lord of understanding” “one of his emblems is the wedge or arrow-head, the essential emblem of cuneiform writing, which seems to be assigned to him as the inventor, or at least the patron of the Chaldæan alphabet.” In the Vedic tradition as Satiavrata (vide Rawlinson’s “Bampton Lect.,” lect. ii. 67), having been saved “from the destroying waves” in “a large vessel” sent from heaven for his use—which he entered accompanied “by pairs of all brute animals”—he is thus addressed, “Then shalt thou know my true greatness, rightly named the Supreme Godhead; by my favour all thy questions shall be answered and thy mind abundantly instructed” and it is added that “after the deluge had abated,” Satiavrata was “instructed in all human and divine knowledge.” In fine, if we recognise him as Hoa, we shall find his benefactions to mankind thus summed up in Berosus. (Vide the original in Rawlinson’s “Ancient Monarchies,” i. 154.)[200]

“He is said to have transmitted to mankind the knowledge of grammar and mathematics, and of all the arts, of the polity of cities, the construction and dedication of temples, the introduction of laws (καί νομων εἰσηγήσεις); to have taught them geometry, and to have shown them by example the modes of sowing the seed and gathering the fruits of the earth,” [the “vir agricola” of Genesis], and along with them to have tradited all the secrets which tend to humanise life. And no one else at that time was found more super-eminent than he.”—Vide Rawlinson, i. 155.

We have seen that he was known to “the first settlers on the Euphrates and Tigris.” The Abbé de Tressan says, Berosus begins his history with these words:—“In the first year appeared this extraordinary man” (Oannes). Now, with “the early settlers” on the Euphrates and Tigris the commencement of all things would have been naturally dated from the Deluge.

It appears to me worth while, in conclusion, to place more succinctly before the reader the identical terms in which the ancients (various authors) spoke of the first founders of states or their earliest progenitor—compelling the conclusion that allusion was made to one and the same individual and epoch.

Bryant (“Myth.” ii. 253) says that Noah was represented as Thoth, Hermes, Menes, Osiris, Zeuth, Atlas, Phoroneus, and Prometheus, &c. &c. “There are none wherein his history is delineated more plainly, than in those of Saturn and Janus.” These I will now omit, as we have just seen them to be identical—and so too Bacchus, who equally with them plants the vine, teaches them to sow, and gives them laws.

Phoroneus, “an ancient poet quoted by Clemens Alex. (i. 380) calls him the first of mortals, φυρονευς πατηρ θνητων ανθρωπων.” The first deluge took place under Phoroneus: “He was also the first who built an altar. He first collected men together and formed them into petty communities.”—Pausanias, lib. 2, 145. He first gave laws and distributed justice.—Syncellus, 67, 125. They ascribed to him the distribution of mankind, “idem nationes distribuit” (Hyginus’ Fab. 143), “which is a circumstance very remarkable.”

Poseidon’s epithets connected with the ark are very striking (Bryant, ii. 269, Deucalion, vide ante, p. 232); but he is also said (Apollon. Rhod. lib. 3, v. 1085) to have been “the first man through whom religious rites were renewed, cities built, and civil polity established in the world.”

Cecrops (vide ante, p. 220), the identical terms are used.

Myrmidon, “a person of great justice.” “He is said to have collected people together, humanised mankind, enacted laws, and first established civil polity.”—Scholia in Pindar, Ode 3, v. 21.

Cadmus, vide ante, p. 221.

Pelasgus also is described as equally a benefactor to mankind, and instructed them in many arts.—Pausanias, 8, 599. He is said to have built the first temple to the deity “ædem Jovi Olympis primum fecit Pelasgus.”—Hyginus’ Fab. 225, 346. Bryant says, “I have taken notice that as Noah was said to have been ἁνθρωπος γης,” a man of the earth—this characteristic is observable in every history of the primitive persons; and they are represented as ‘νομιοι,’ ‘αγριοι’, and ‘γηγενεις.’ Pelasgus accordingly had this title (Æschy. “Supplicants,” v. 250), and it is particularly mentioned of him that he was the first husbandman. Pelasgus first found out all that is necessary for the cultivation of the ground.”—Schol. in Eurip. “Orestes,” v. 930.

Osiris.—The account of Osiris in Diodorus Siculus is exactly similar. He travels into all countries like Bacchus. He builds cities; and although represented as at the head of an army, is described with the muses and sciences in his retinue. In every region he instructed the people in planting, sowing, and other useful acts.—Tibullus, i. E. 8, v. 29. He particularly introduced the vine, and when that was not adapted to the soil, the use of ferment and wine of barley. He first built temples, and was a lawgiver and king (Diod. Sic.).—Bryant, ii. 60.

Chin-nong (vide also Bunsen, supra, p. 63) “was a husbandman, and taught the Chinese agriculture, &c., discovered the virtues of many plants. He was represented with the head of an ox, and sometimes only with two horns.”—Comp. Bryant, iii. 584.

Manco Capac.—Peru, vide infra, ch. xiii.; very curious.

Strabo, 3, 204, says of the Turditani in Spain (Iberia), “They are well acquainted with grammar, and have many written records of high antiquity. They have also large collections of poetry (comp. ch. vii.), and even their laws are described in verse, which they say is of six thousand years standing.”

Deucalion, according to Lucian, was saved from the Deluge on account of his wisdom and piety—“εὐβουλιης τε και εὐσεβιης εἱνεκα.” [εὐβουλια—literally, “good counsel.”]

Mercury gave Egypt its laws—“Atque Egyptiis leges et literas tradidisse.”—Cicero, “De Natura Deorum,” iii. 22.

Apollo.—Cicero says the fourth Apollo gave laws to the Arcadians (comp. infra, p. 331): “Quem Arcades Νομιον appellant, quod ab eo se leges ferunt accepisse,” id. iii. 23; vide also Plato, “Leges,” i. 1.