CHAPTER I. THE EARLY TRADITIONS OF THE CREATION.
The Hebrew account—Its principal points—The Babylonian account—The story of the Creation properly so called—The version given by the Greek authors—Comparison of the Hebrew and the Greek accounts—The likenesses—The differences—Bêl and the Dragon—The epilogue—Sidelights (notes upon the religion of the Babylonians).
To find out how the world was made, or rather, to give forth a theory accounting for its origin and continued existence, is one of the subjects that has attracted the attention of thinking minds among all nations having any pretension to civilization. It was, therefore, to be expected that the ancient Babylonians and Assyrians, far advanced in civilization as they were at an exceedingly early date, should have formed opinions thereupon, and placed them on record as soon as those opinions were matured, and the art of writing had been perfected sufficiently to enable a serviceable account to be composed.
This, naturally, did not take place all at once. We may take it for granted that the history of the Creation grew piece by piece, as different minds thought over and elaborated it. The first theories we should expect to find more or less improbable—wild stories of serpents and gods, emblematic of the conflicting powers of good and evil, which, with them, had their origin before the advent of mankind upon the earth.
But all men would not have the same opinion of the way in which the universe came into existence, and this would give rise, as really happened in Babylonia, to conflicting accounts or theories, the later ones less improbable than, and therefore superior to, the earlier. The earlier Creation-legend, being a sort of heroic poem, would remain popular with the common people, who always love stories of heroes and mighty conflicts, such as those in which the Babylonians and Assyrians to the latest times delighted, and of which the Semitic Babylonian Creation-story consists.
As the ages passed by, and the newer theories grew up, the older popular ones would be elaborated, and new ideas from the later theories of the Creation would be incorporated, whilst, at the same time, mystical meanings would be given to the events recorded in the earlier legends to make them fit in with the newer ones. This having been done, the scribes could appeal at the same time to both ignorant and learned, explaining how the crude legends of the past were but a type of the doctrines put forward by the philosophers of later and more enlightened days, bringing within the range of the intellect of the unlearned all those things in which the more thoughtful spirits also believed. By this means an enlightened monotheism and the grossest polytheism could, and did, exist side by side, as well as clever and reasonable cosmologies along with the strangest and wildest legends.
Thus it is that we have from the literature of two closely allied peoples, the Babylonians and the Hebrews, accounts of the Creation of the world so widely differing, and, at the same time, possessing, here and there, certain ideas in common—ideas darkly veiled in the old Babylonian story, but clearly expressed in the comparatively late Hebrew account.
It must not be thought, however, that the above theory as to the origin of the Hebrew Creation-story interferes in any way with the doctrine of its inspiration. We are not bound to accept the opinion so generally held by theologians, that the days of creation referred to in Genesis i. probably indicate that each act of creation—each day—was revealed in seven successive dreams, in order, to the inspired writer of the book. The opinion held by other theologians, that “inspiration” simply means that the writer was moved by the Spirit of God to choose from documents already existing such portions as would serve for our enlightenment and instruction, adding, at the same time, such additions of his own as he was led to think to be needful, may be held to be a satisfactory definition of the term in question.
Without, therefore, binding ourselves down to any hard and fast line as to date, we may regard, for the purposes of this inquiry, the Hebrew account of the Creation as one of the traditions handed down in the thought of many minds extending over many centuries, and as having been chosen and elaborated by the inspired writer of Genesis for the purpose of his narrative, the object of which was to set forth the origin of man and the Hebrew nation, to which he belonged, and whose history he was about to narrate in detail.
The Hebrew story of the Creation, as detailed in Genesis i., may be regarded as one of the most remarkable documents ever produced. It must not be forgotten, however, that it is a document that is essentially Hebrew. For the author of this book the language of God and of the first man was Hebrew—a literary language, showing much phonetic decay. The retention of this matter (its omission not being essential at the period of the composition of the book) is probably due, in part, to the natural patriotism of the writer, overruling what ought to have been his inspired common-sense. How this is to be explained it is not the intention of the writer of this book to inquire, the account of the Creation and its parallels being the subject in hand at present.
The question of language apart, the account of the Creation in Genesis is in the highest degree a common-sense one. The creation of (1) the heaven, and (2) the earth; the darkness—not upon the face of the earth, but upon the face of the deep. Then the expansion dividing the waters above from the waters below on the earth. In the midst of this waste of waters dry land afterwards appears, followed by the growth of vegetation. But the sun and the moon had not yet been appointed, nor the stars, all of which come into being at this point. Last of all are introduced the living things of the earth—fish, and bird, and creeping thing, followed by the animals, and, finally, by man.
It is noteworthy and interesting that, in this account, the acts of creation are divided into seven periods, each of which is called a “day,” and begins, like the natural day in the time-reckoning of the Semitic nations, with the evening—“and it was evening, and it was morning, day one.” It describes what the heavenly bodies were for—they were not only to give light upon the earth—they were also for signs, for seasons, for days, and for years.
And then, concerning man, a very circumstantial account is given. He was to have dominion over everything upon the earth—the fish of the sea, the fowl of the air, the cattle, and every creeping thing. All was given to him, and he, like the creatures made before him, was told to “be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth.” It is with this crowning work of creation that the first chapter of the Book of Genesis ends.
The second chapter refers to the seventh day—the day of rest, and is followed by further details of the creation, the central figure of which is the last thing created, namely, man. This chapter reads, in part, like a recapitulation of the first, but contains many additional details. “No plant of the field was yet in the earth, and no herb ... had sprung up: for the Lord God had not caused it to rain ..., and there was not a man to till the ground.” A mist, therefore, went up from the earth, and watered all the face of the ground. Then, to till the earth, man was formed from the dust of the ground, and the Lord God “breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living soul.”
The newly-created man was, at this time, innocent, and was therefore to be placed by his Creator in a garden of delight, named Eden, and this garden he was to dress and keep. A hidden danger, however, lay in this pleasant retreat—the tree of knowledge of good and evil, of which he was forbidden to eat, but which was to form for him a constant temptation, for ever testing his obedience. All might have been well, to all appearance, but for the creation of woman, who, giving way to the blandishments of the tempter, in her turn tempted the man, and he fell. Death in the course of nature was the penalty, the earthly paradise was lost, and all chance of eating of the tree of life, and living for ever, disappeared on man’s expulsion from his first abode of delight.
In the course of this narrative interesting details are given—the four rivers, the country through which they flowed, and their precious mineral products; the naming of the various animals by the man; the forming of woman from one of his ribs; the institution of marriage, etc.
Such is, in short, the story of the Creation as told in the Bible, and it is this that we have to compare with the now well-known parallel accounts current among the ancient Babylonians and Assyrians. And here may be noted at the outset that, though we shall find some parallels, we shall, in the course of our comparison, find a far greater number of differences, for not only were they produced in a different land, by a different people, but they were also produced under different conditions. Thus, Babylonian polytheism takes the place of the severe and uncompromising monotheism of the Hebrew account in Genesis; Eden was, to the Babylonians, their own native land, not a country situated at a remote distance; and, lastly, but not least, their language, thoughts, and feelings differed widely from those of the dwellers in the Holy Land.