Chapter XVIII
When I cast back my eye upon this narrative, through the long perspective of ages which it involves, I confess I feel incommoded by some misgivings of self-distrust. When I consider the mighty individuals, of transcendent powers and almost inexhaustible resources, who, having reconnoitred its coast, either perished in the impotency of effecting a landing, or, more wisely, receded from it as impregnable, I am thrown back, as it were, upon myself, and impeded by the comparison of my own littleness.
But if “God has often chosen the small things of the earth to confound the great”; and if success in past undertakings be any guarantee against the illusiveness of inward promise; if the roads be all chalked, the posts lighted, and the sentinels faithful, why, then, allow the influence of petty fears to mar, at all events, the project of an ennobling enterprise?
In that cherished volume, whence our first lessons upon religion have been deduced, and which, as embodying the principles of our happiness here, and our hopes hereafter, has been honoured with the pre-eminent and distinctive appellation of the Bible, or Book, there occur numerous phrases of mysterious import, but pregnant significancy, which pious men, unable to solve, have contented themselves with classifying as under the head of “above reason”—“contrary,” and “according to,” being the two other constituents of their predicamental line.
Those conventional terms which expediency alone has invented are, to say the least, arbitrary; and as all men have an equal right to form a specification of their subject-matter, I shall, without disconcerting the order of the above division, endeavour only to rescue the points to which I refer from immersion in the first class;258 or—if allowed the latitude of parliamentary elocution—to take them out from the condemnation of Schedule A.
To begin, then, with the following text, viz. “The sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair, and they took them wives of all which they chose.”259
What do you understand by the expression “sons of God”?
His peculiar people, you reply; such, for instance, as called upon His name;260 or, perhaps, Seth’s descendants in opposition to those of Cain, the unrighteous.
Turn, sir, to the beginning of the first and second chapters of Job, and read what you are there informed of.
“Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also among them.” And, “Again, there was a day, when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also among them to present himself before the Lord.”
Well, what is your answer now? or will it not be different from what it was before? Can you seriously imagine that it was any race of ordinary human beings that was thus denominated? And are you not compelled to associate the idea with some one of the other superior productions of omnipotent agency?
I will make you, sir, if you have candour in your constitution, acknowledge the fact. Listen—“Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth? Declare if thou hast understanding: when the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy.”261
Here allusion is made to a period antecedent to the existence of either Cain or Seth. The myriads of revolving ages suggested by the interrogatory set even fancy at defiance; nor are their limits demarked by the vague and indefinite exordium of even the talented and otherwise highly-favoured legislator, Moses himself.262 And yet, in this incomprehensible inane of time, do we see the sons of God shouting for joy, before the species of man—at least in his degenerate sinfulness—had appeared upon this surface!
It is manifest, therefore, that some emanation of the Godhead, distinct from mere humanity, is couched under the phrase of “the sons of God”; and accordingly we perceive that, when they “went in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them,” it is emphatically noticed, as an occurrence of unusual impress, that “the same became mighty men, which were of old, men of renown.”263
At the commencement of the verse, whence the last extract has been taken, you will find the name of giant mentioned; and instantly after, as if in juxtaposition, nay, as if synonymous with it in meaning, is repeated “the sons of God”: thereby identifying both in nature and in character, and proving their sameness by their convertibility.
The Hebrew word from which giant has been translated, signifies to fall: and what, do you suppose, constituted this apostasy? In sooth, nothing else than that carnal intercourse, which they could not resist indulging with the “daughters of men,” when their senses told them they were lovely.264 Thus do both names corroborate my truth; while both reciprocally illustrate each other.
“It may seem strange,” says Wilford, “that the posterity of Cain should be so much noticed in the Puranas, whilst that of the pious and benevolent Ruchi is in a great measure neglected. But little is said of the posterity of Seth, whilst the inspired penman takes particular notice of the ingenuity of the descendants of Cain, and to what a high degree of perfection they carried the arts of civil life. The charms and accomplishments of the women are particularly mentioned. ‘The same became mighty men, which were of old, men of renown.’”
And again,—“We have been taught to consider the descendants of Cain as a most profligate and abominable race. This opinion, however, is not countenanced, either by sacred or profane history. That they were not entrusted with the sacred deposit of religious truths, to transmit to future ages, is sufficiently certain. They might, in consequence of this, have deviated gradually from the original belief, and at last fallen into a superstitious system of religion, which seems, also, a natural consequence of the fearful disposition of Cain, and the horrors he must have felt, when he recollected the atrocious murder of his brother Abel.”
This, so far as it goes, is satisfactory enough; but it is groping in the dark, and without a pilot. A few pages, in the distance, will, however, bring us to the right understanding of these points also; meanwhile, I return to the Mosaical record, for the insight therein afforded into the history of Cain.
We are told then that he “knew his wife, and she conceived and bare Enoch”: and as this name signifies initiation in sacred rites, as well as it does an assembly of congregated multitudes,—in which latter sense it was accurately applied to the “city” which he had “builded,”—it shows that the new religion bade fair for perpetuity.
Irad, the name of Enoch’s son, proves the crowning finish of the matured ceremonial, for intimating, as it does, consecrated to God, we are naturally led to connect its bearer with the profession of that worship which his name represented.
As Irad signifies consecrated to God, so Iran does the land of those so consecrated; and accordingly we may be assured that it was in that precise region that the Budhists had first established the insignia of their empire.265
Let us now inquire what light will the Dabistan afford to our labours. It is known that Sir John Malcolm was no ready convert to its merits; his abridgment of it, therefore, cannot be suspected of any colouring; and, as I like the testimony of reluctant witnesses, I shall even make him the interpreter of its recondite contents.
“In almost all the modern accounts of Persia,” says he, “which have been translated from Mahomedan authors, Kaiomurs is considered the first king of that country; but the Dabistan, a book professedly compiled from works of the ancient Guebrs, or worshippers of fire, presents us with a chapter on a succession of monarchs and prophets who preceded Kaiomurs. According to its author the Persians, previous to the reign of Kaiomurs, and consequently long before the mission of Zoroaster, venerated a prophet called Mah-abad, or the Great (rather the Good) Abad, whom they considered as the father of men. We are told in the Dabistan that the ancient Persians deemed it impossible to ascertain who were the first parents of the human race. The knowledge of man, they alleged, was quite incompetent to such a discovery; but they believed, on the authority of their books, that Mah-abad was the person left at the end of the last great cycle, and consequently the father of the present world. The only particulars they relate of him are, that he and his wife, having survived the former cycle, were blessed with a numerous progeny, who inhabited caves and clefts of rocks, and were uninformed of both the comforts and luxuries of life; that they were at first strangers to order and government, but that Mah-abad, inspired and aided by Divine Power, resolved to alter their condition; and, to effect that object, planted gardens, invented ornaments, and forged weapons. He also taught men to take the fleece from the sheep, and to make clothing; he built cities, constructed palaces, fortified towns, and introduced among his descendants all the benefits of art and commerce.
“Mah-abad had thirteen successors of his own family; all of whom are styled Abad, and deemed prophets. They were at once the monarchs and the high priests of the country; and during their reigns, the world, we are informed, enjoyed a golden age, which was, however, disturbed by an act of Azer-abad, the last prince of the Mahabadean dynasty, who abdicated the throne, and retired to a life of solitary devotion.
“By the absence of Azer-abad his subjects were left to the free indulgence of their passions, and every species of excess was the consequence. The empire became a scene of rapine and of murder. To use the extravagant expression of our author (the Dabistan), the mills, from which men were fed, were turned by the torrents of blood that flowed from the veins of their brothers; every art and science fell into oblivion; the human race became as beasts of prey, and returned to their former rude habitations in caverns and mountains.
“Some sages, who viewed the state of the empire with compassion, intreated Iy-Affram, a saint-like, retired man, to assume the government. This holy man, who had received the title of Iy (pure), from his pre-eminent virtues, refused to attend to their request, till a divine command, through the angel Gabriel, led him to consent to be the instrument of restoring order, and of reviving the neglected laws and institutions of Mah-abad. Iy-Affram founded a new dynasty, which was called the Iy-abad; who, after a long and prosperous reign, suddenly disappeared, and the empire fell again into confusion. Order was restored by his son, Shah Kisleer, who was with difficulty prevailed upon to quit his religious retirement to assume the reigns of government. His successors were prosperous till the elevation of the last prince of the dynasty, whose name was Mahabool. This monarch, we are told, was compelled by the increasing depravity of his subjects to resign his crown.
“He was succeeded by his eldest son, Yessan, who, acting under divine influence, supported himself in that condition which his father had abandoned. This prince founded a new dynasty, which terminated in his descendant, Yessan-Agrin. At the end of his reign the general wickedness of mankind exceeded all bounds, and God made their mutual hostility the means of the Divine vengeance, till the human race was nearly extinct. The few that remained had fled to woods and mountains, when the all-merciful Creator called Kaiomurs, or Gilshah, to the throne.”
We only now want a key to unlock the portals of this Magh-abadean household; and I flatter myself that this, which I am about to tender, will consummate to an accuracy that very desirable purpose.
Cain’s immediate progeny are they which are included under the above denomination. Their faith and worship are exactly symbolised under its derivative dress. Magh, as before explained, is good; and Abad, a unit; that is, when combined, the Good One, or Unit, the author of fruitfulness and productiveness—in which light alone, as all-bountiful and all-generous, was he recognised by this family.
This unity of the Godhead was what was religiously comprehended under the Phallic configuration of the Round Tower erections; and this, furthermore, elucidates that heretofore enigmatical declaration of the Budhists themselves, viz. that the pyramids, in which the sacred relics are deposited, “be their shape what it will, are an imitation of the worldly temple of the Supreme Being.”266
But if Magh-abadean was the name adopted by them with this spiritual tendency, Tuath-de-danaan was that which pictured them a sacerdotal institution. The last member of this compound I have already expounded. It remains that I develop what the two first parts conceal.
Tuath, then, is neither more nor less than a dialectal modification for Budh, which, according to the licence of languages, transformed itself, otherwise and indifferently, into Butt, Butta, Fiod, Fioth, Thot, Tuath, Duath, Suath, Pood, Woad; and in the two last forms—of which one is Gothic, and the other Tamulic—admitted a final syllable,—which was but an insignificant termination,—namely, en, making Pooden and Woad-en; or Poden and Woden.
In these several variations, and the innumerable others which branch therefrom, while the sensible idea is preserved underneath, there is superinduced another of a more refined complexion. Thus, Budh, while it primarily represents the sun, its type, the penis; and again, its sign, a tree, expresses also the attributes of magic, science, divination, and wisdom.
These were the consequences of that mysterious garb in which the priests invested the true elements of their religion. Being themselves the sole possessors of its inward secrets, and all literature and erudition going hand in hand also therewith, it was so dexterously managed, that a sort of reverential feeling attached, not only to those qualities in the abstract, but to the consecrated personages who were their depositories. Hence, while Budh came to signify divination and wisdom, Budha, its professor, did a divine and wise man; and Tuath, being only a modification of the former epithet, Tuatha is the corresponding transmutation of the latter.
Tuatha, therefore, signifies magicians;267 and so we have the first component of Tuath-de-danaans elucidated. The second requires no Œdipus to solve it, De being but the vernacular term whereby was expressed the Deity; and as I have previously established the import of Danaans to have been Almoners, it follows that the aggregate tenour of this religious-compound-denomination is the Magician-god-almoners, or the Almoner-magicians of the Deity.
As from Budh was formed Fiodh, so from Fiodh arose Fidhius; and as I have before shown that Hercules and Deus were synonymous terms, and both personifications of the Sun, so, accordingly, we find that this symbolical adjunct was reciprocally appropriated to one as to the other.
I dwell upon those terms with the more impressive force, because that the spirit of no one of them has ever before been developed. Me Deus Fidhius, and Me Hercules Fidhius, we where taught at school to consider as appeals to the God of Truth, and the Hercules of Honour. Most assuredly those virtues are comprehended under the radix of the great mysterious Original; but the dictionaries and lexicons that gave us those significations knew no more of what that Original was than they did of the connection between soul and body.
Deus Fidhius, then, means God the Budha, and as such the All-wise, the All-sacred, the All-amiable, and the All-hospitable; and Hercules Fidhius, that is, Hercules the Budha, is, in sense and meaning, exactly the same.
The Latin word Fides, and the English Faith, are but direct emanations from the same communion. A thousand other analogies must suggest themselves now in consequence. In a word, if you go through the circle of natural religion and artificial science,—if you analyse the vocabulary of conventional taste and of modish etiquette, you will find the constituent particles of all the leading outlines resolve themselves into the physical symbolisation of the radical Budh.
What inference, I ask my reader, would he draw from the above facts? Unquestionably that at the outset of social life, mankind at large had used but one lingual conversation; and as the Irish is the only language in which are traced the germs of all the diverging radii,—nay, as it is the focus in which all amicably meet,—it follows inevitably that it must have been the universal language of the first human cultivators—the nursery of letters, and the cradle of revelation.
“How charming is divine Philosophy!
Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose,
But musical as is Apollo’s lute,
And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets
Where no crude surfeit reigns.”