A critical and exegetical commentary on Genesis

volume i. (1902); with which should be compared Jensen

Chapter 27,274 wordsPublic domain

_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 Testament_³, 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 Orients_², 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 Testament_³).

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 Orients_², 129 ff.; _Texte und Bilder_, i. 27 f.; Sayce, _Early Israel_, 336 f. Compare the summary in _Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament_³, 498.

² The chief texts are Isaiah 51⁹ ᶠᐧ, Psalms 89⁸⁹ ᶠᶠᐧ, Job 26¹² ᶠᐧ (Rahab); Psalms 74¹² ᶠᶠᐧ, 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 Orients_², 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 Orients_², 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 2⁴ᵇ ᶠᶠᐧ 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’ (2⁴ᵇ) 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 (2⁵ ᶠᐧ: 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 (⁸ᐧ ¹⁰ ᶠᶠᐧ), 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 (⁶ᐧ ⁷), the inquest (⁸⁻¹³), the sentences (¹⁴⁻¹⁹), and the expulsion from Eden (²²⁻²⁴).

¹ Compare especially 2⁴ᵇ{β} with 3¹⁹ᐧ ²³; 2⁹ᐧ ¹⁶ ᶠᐧ with 3¹⁻⁵ᐧ ¹¹ᐧ ¹⁷ᐧ ²²; 2⁸ᵇᐧ ¹⁵ with 3²³ ᶠᐧ; 2¹⁹ with 3¹ᵃᐧ ¹⁴; 2²¹⁻²³ with 3¹²; (2²⁴ with 3¹⁶ᵇ); 2²⁵} with 3⁷ᐧ ¹⁰ ᶠᐧ.

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 (2¹⁸ ᶠᶠᐧ), or arriving at a knowledge of man’s sin by a searching examination (3⁹ ᶠᶠᐧ), 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 Israels_⁶ 302 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 3¹⁴ᐧ ¹⁷, עצבון‎ 3¹⁶ᐧ 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 2¹⁰⁻¹⁴ 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 2¹⁰⁻¹⁴ 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 2⁹ᵇ 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 3²²ᐧ 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: 3²³ᐧ 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 ∥ 2¹⁰ ⁽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 (3¹⁻⁵), where the general name was felt to be more appropriate.¹ The reasoning is precarious; but if it be sound, it follows that 3¹⁻⁵ 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 3²²ᐧ 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 3¹⁻⁵, 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 3¹⁻⁵ 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. 30⁴ᐧ 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 Semites_², 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 ⁵ᵇ{α}, 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 1¹⁻³ (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 Israels_⁶ 297 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 ᶠᐧ 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 ᶠᐧ 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 7²²ᐧ ²⁵, Jonah 4⁶, Psalms 72¹⁸ 84⁹ᐧ 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 (‡ Syriac word), Targumᴼⁿᵏᵉˡᵒˢ 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 Orients_², 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 (1²⁰ᐧ 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 2¹⁰ᐧ ¹⁵ 3²³ᐧ ²⁴ 4¹⁶, Isaiah 51³, Ezekiel 28¹³ 31⁹ᐧ ¹⁶ᐧ 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 Testament_², 26 f.; _Die Keilinschriften und das Alte Testament_³, 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 31⁸ ᶠᐧ ¹⁶ᐧ 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 Israels_⁶ 303²; compare _Reste arabischen Heidentums_ 141; Barton, _A Sketch of Semitic Origins_¹, 96). In early times such spots of natural fertility were the haunts of the gods or supernatural beings (_Lectures on the Religion of the Semites_², 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 Orients_², 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 Targumᴼⁿᵏᵉˡᵒˢ, Peshiṭtå, by Vulgate only 4¹⁶ (everywhere else as appellative: _voluptas, deliciæ_). LXX has Ἐδεμ only in 2⁸ᐧ 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_,